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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 7 months ago

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𝒢𝑜𝑜𝒹 & 𝐹𝒶𝒾𝓉𝒽𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒮𝑒𝓇𝓋𝒶𝓃𝓉

haha, another fic I wanted to finish...I'm team Black, I swear...but Alicent is just too pretty I don't know what to say

Summary: Alicent struggles to deal with the feelings she harbors for you, her chambermaid and ally.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), religious guilt, infidelity, slight dubcon, oral, fingering, some angst

word count | 3.2k🤙🏻

Alicent sighs heavily as you inform her of yet another servant that has been chased away by her son, Prince Aegon. She didn’t know why she was surprised anymore, it happened so frequently. Even worse, she expected it to happen more often as he aged. She just couldn’t catch a break…

It was hard enough being married to an old, rotting man at such a young age, but to raise all of her children alone? Alicent often wondered how they aren’t turning out worse than they already are. She had no support from anyone, not her husband nor her own father, him banished from the Red Keep and Lord Strong only helping her for his own gain and power. She couldn’t even rely on her childhood friend anymore, now her stepdaughter. It was almost laughable the hand Alicent was dealt. The Gods were cruel. But they did give her one good thing though; you.

You had been Alicent’s personal servant ever since her last child was born, helping raise them the best you could whenever Alicent had to rule in the king’s name, meaning she was often busy. You clicked instantly, though you had a sort of talent for always getting on someone’s good side. You could see the light in her eyes that was slowly dying out the older she got and the more time she had to spend in the Red Keep. You could tell she missed her home and her father, so you often comforted her whenever those feelings seem to cloud her thoughts. She warmed up to you pretty quickly, longing for a companion other than her favorite child. And when she needed information, you’d get that for her too. Unlike Lord Strong, you didn’t ask for anything in return.

The first time you made her laugh was when you accidentally voiced your thoughts about fantasizing about kicking his cane out from underneath him. You thought she’d scold you for thinking such a horrible thing, but the prettiest sound you ever heard escaped from her lips. Bashful giggles filled her chambers which caused your face to heat but filled you with a sense of pride. Even so, Alicent looked more ashamed of herself for finding what you said funny. But from then on, you were determined to make your queen laugh whenever appropriate.

She confided in you a lot, about everything, even things she never admitted to herself before you came along. You never judged her, ever. You may have been biased but in your eyes, your queen could do no wrong. For Alicent, ever since getting close to you, she started to feel things she thought she never would again. She hadn’t felt this happy being around someone since Rhaenyra was her best friend all those years ago. But therein lied another problem; Alicent wasn’t just friends with the Targaryen princess, she wanted to be more than that. Now that she was feeling that same way about you, her feelings of guilt came back even stronger than before.

Alicent always struggled with accepting herself. All her life, she was told how to behave and how she should be. Following the Faith of the Seven, being attracted to the same sex was strictly forbidden. It was just another reason to pick at her cuticles until they bled. She hadn’t done it in a long time (mostly thanks to you), but every time she had…sinful thoughts about you, she didn’t even notice she was hurting herself again until you called her out on it.

You were concerned and had asked what had been causing her to hurt herself again, but Alicent very well couldn’t tell you the truth, could she? So, she blamed it on Aegon’s behavior and that seemed to quell your curiosity, but you still kept a more watchful eye on her to keep herself from picking at her skin. You just didn’t know that you were the cause and kind of made it worse, though it meant you spent even more time with her, so she couldn’t really complain. But after this incident with the servant girl that Aegon harassed, you could tell Alicent needed time to herself, so you quietly dismissed yourself.

You felt horrible for thinking such things at a time like this, but you also felt you needed some special time to yourself. Unbeknownst to Alicent, you were having some of the same issues she had. Although, you were ashamed of yourself about it. Even though she was upset, Alicent looked absolutely stunning in her green dressing gown and the urge to relieve yourself was almost overbearing. Now, you weren’t the most lecherous individual, but to say you weren’t a prude would’ve been an understatement.

You had some distant relatives from Dorne and went to visit them for a couple months, your parents saying something about you needing to experience the world before being tied down to King’s Landing. You weren’t going to complain, in all your life you never thought you’d ever even travel past the Stormlands. You were somewhat sheltered, but just a few weeks in Dorne and you learned more than most highborn ladies ever did. You learned much about yourself with the help of the Dornish, especially learning about your sexuality which everyone was open about there. Even just a kiss in public between lovers always seemed to be looked down upon north of Dorne. You came back to King’s Landing changed, but for the better.

You found pleasure whenever you could and without shame, but you also knew you had a reputation to uphold, not just for yourself but for the family you worked for. Not many people get the opportunity to serve the royal family, so you knew acting out on your feelings for the Queen was the quickest way to getting your head impaled on a pike for all the Red Keep to see. You would be labeled a heathen, whore, and a dishonor to your family and those statements would follow you all the way to the Seven Hells. So, you always found your release in the privacy of your own chambers, not having to fear wandering eyes or ears. If you were ever to go to a brothel on the Streets of Silk, word would travel before you could even blink. But you couldn’t think of that now. As you laid back in your bed with your hand in between your thighs, all you wanted to think of was your Queen Alicent.

You ran your delicate fingertips over your hardened nub hastily, grabbing at your breasts, desperation painting your features as you thought of Alicent’s soft lips. You imagined how they’d feel pressed against your own, on your neck, chest, and even further south. Just the image threatened to oversensitize you, but you needed the thought to find release. “Alicent…” You breathed a whimpery whisper, your peak building steadily, that burn in your belly spreading over you like waves. But just as you were about to finish, you heard a loud gasp. “My Queen-!”

The Queen Alicent stood wide eyed in shock, mouth agape, unable to stop herself from looking where your fingers were coated in your arousal, your cunt glistening in the sunlight seeping through the curtains into your chambers. “My apologies.” Alicent spoke curtly, quickly turning and exiting your chambers without another word.

In quite a blunt manner, you expressed your embarrassment as soon as she was out of your sight: “Fuck.” You prayed to the Seven that she hadn’t heard you moan her name.

In truth, you had nothing to worry about. Queen Alicent was too flustered to even register that she was the object of your desire, blood thrummed loudly in her ears as her face reddened at the sight of you in the throws of near ecstasy. She didn’t know how to react, and she certainly didn’t know what to do about the ache in between her legs as she made it back to the sanctuary of her solar.

Alicent sat in her chair with a shaky exhale, closing her eyes to try and calm herself, only to see the image of your fingers inside yourself. She could still hear the faint sound of the moist suction from your fingers moving in and out, sending a shiver down her spine. She didn’t realize she was picking at her cuticles until she felt a droplet of blood running down her hand. It wasn’t enough that she had these sinful feelings and desires, the gods kept tempting her, but that went too far. How is she supposed to resist temptation when she has to be around someone so intoxicating as you? It wasn’t fair. Why were the gods consistent in handing her the short straws in life? What had she done to deserve such divine punishment?

The ache in Alicent’s core hadn’t faded, the image of you still burning through her mind. She gazed around, there was no one but her in her chambers and there was no one likely to barge in without knocking first. Perhaps this one time, she could try to quell that desire that’s begun to feel so familiar every time she’s around you. But she didn’t know where to start.

Of course Alicent knew of her clit, but she never dared to touch it lest she gets sent straight to one of the Seven Hells. But that spot of throbbing so badly, it would hurt to leave it untouched. So cautiously, she lifted her skirts past her knees, experimentally running her fingers up her inner thighs. The closer she got to that aching spot, the more her breath quickened. And just as she was about to reach closer, she stopped abruptly. No, as soon as she gives in to herself it's more likely she’s to give in to you. That couldn’t happen. That will not happen, or so she believed.

The next couple weeks were awkward, to say the least. The Queen could rarely make eye contact with you, let alone sit with you in private as you used to do. You knew it wasn’t really your fault, but you still felt guilty Alicent caught you like that. You knew she wasn’t used to pleasure, her marriage to an old man being proof enough. You felt bad for her, but you didn’t know how to help her if you even could. You tried easing into a discussion about it, but she never took the bait. You would’ve given up entirely if it weren’t for you catching her staring at you on multiple occasions. And besides, if she was offended or heard you moaning her name, you’d be a headless body right now. But the way you caught her looking at your fingers with an almost glazed over expression, you figured she wasn’t offended and uncomfortable with you, but herself. The poor woman, she didn't understand it at all, did she?

You decided to confront her later in the evening, when her other maids rested for the night and the children were asleep. Your heart thumped in your chest rapidly, scared but excited for how this conversation might turn out. You watched as she sat in her plush chair in exhaustion, looking at the window in thought. She was beautiful.

“Your Grace?” Your soft whisper almost startled Alicent if it wasn’t for the fact she was acutely aware of your presence at all times. “May I speak with you?”

Alicent shut her eyes, already knowing what you must’ve wanted to talk about. She did not want to have this conversation at all, but there was no escaping it any longer. “You may…” She spoke quietly, tensing up when you took steps closer to her, sitting on the footrest of her chair, entirely too close for comfort. It wouldn’t have bothered her before, your closeness, but all she could think about was you pleasuring yourself.

“If I can be quite blunt, your Grace…you’ve been distant these past couple weeks and it’s quite obvious why.” Alicent’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest. “I hadn’t meant you to see me like that, my Queen. I thought I was alone…”

Alicent sighed, shaking her head. “I’m the one at fault. I never should’ve barged into your chambers like that, especially without knocking. You’ve nothing to apologize for.”

“And I’ve also noticed…how you can’t keep your eyes off me since.”

Alicent breathed in a sharp breath, her lips dipping into a frown. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I believe you’re forgetting your place.”

With a shaky exhale, you placed a trembling hand on the Queen’s clothed knee, feeling her tense immediately. “I think you do, your Grace. I may be disrespectful right now, but I can’t help but see how everyone else treats you, including the King. I can see how he doesn’t even care to make you feel loved. You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel like the only woman in the Seven Kingdoms.”

Alicent blushed brightly, whispering your name in disbelief.

“Please, let me serve you, my lady. Properly. That’s what I’m here for. I can’t see you like this any longer.” And without another word from either you nor Alicent, you delicately lifted her skirts up past her knees, smelling her obvious arousal from where you sat. She wanted this, whether she admitted it or not.

Alicent looked down at you with a conflicted expression, the soft tips of your fingers gently spreading her legs apart and tracing them up her inner thighs. Her core throbbed achingly, the guilt of sinning threatening to overwhelm her, but the feeling of you finally coming into contact with her dripping cunt making those feelings retreat to the back of her mind. So wet, you thought, bringing her face closer and licking a stripe up her slick folds. Alicent gasped at the sensation, the feeling of your tongue running up and down her sensitive flesh, making her wonder why she’d never had this done to her before.

Alicent’s moan as you circled the tip of your tongue around her clit was music to your ears, you would die a happy woman if you were able to hear her moans again and again. You needed to hear more. You used your middle finger to gently push inside her, feeling her tight walls clenching at the intrusion. She moaned your name as you thrusted your finger against her sweet spot as you lapped at her engorged clit. You could tell she was already so close, her moans raising an octave, her walls trying to push your finger out, and her hips bucking against your face. That fool of a King never made her feel this way, that much you were sure of. Could it be you’d be the first person to make her feel such pleasure?

You moaned as the Queen Alicent released on your finger and tongue, your mouth eager to taste and lap up all her sweet juices until she was licked clean. You were grinning as you pulled away, looking up at her like she was the one to put the moon and stars into the night sky. The Queen herself looked quite satisfied, a thin sheet of sweat coating her hairline, her natural curly auburn waves cascading down her body and framing her like a golden halo. Her eyes were glazed over, pupils dilated in the aftermath of her pleasure. “May I kiss you, your Grace?” But those words seemed to snap her out of whatever haze she was in, her eyes blinking rapidly, the fondness in them disappearing altogether and replaced with shame and rage.

“Leave. Now.” Alicent snapped, hastily smoothing out her skirts and pushing you away to stand. The feeling of rejection overtook the feeling of pride when you saw her legs tremble as she walked to her chamber doors, opening one and giving you a look that almost scared you. You left without another word, wondering if you should write to your family one last time before you were surely beheaded for overstepping.

You awaited death, but it never came.

Queen Alicent couldn’t stop thinking about you, no matter how much she tried to distance herself from you, you were her every waking thought. She hated feeling this way, wracked with such guilt. She couldn’t even look at her husband anymore, for fear that somehow he’d be able to sense her debaucherous acts with a servant. Her thoughts never drifted far from how amazing you made her feel, the memory of your tongue on her never failing to make her shiver. She had never desired someone so much after Rhaenyra, she never wanted to, but you invaded her mind and made a home there.

More weeks passed, you and Alicent together but never more apart. She only talked to you when she needed to, which she tried talking to other servants in your stead. It was infuriating, and it hurt. You almost regretted making your desires known, but it was done. You couldn’t change what you did. The Queen would have to decide for herself whether she wanted to continue what relationship you had on her own.

But for Alicent, it couldn’t have been further from simple. She wanted you, truly, but she’d be putting you and herself in danger if she pursued more. There were spies everywhere, and she couldn’t have any harm come to you. But every day, seeing you, it got harder to hold herself back. She needed you, and she knew you needed her just as much. At the end of the day, it wasn’t a difficult decision. She couldn’t keep herself away from you. You were shocked when she came barging into your chambers one day, without knocking once again. But she was the Queen, she didn’t have to knock.

“Your Grace.” You stood up from your bed with a startle, your heartbeat picking up at the sight of Alicent’s beautiful frame. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Alicent sighed breathily. “I didn’t know I’d be coming here.”

You raised a brow. “Why are you here, your Grace?”

Without another word, the Queen rushed to you, taking you in her arms and colliding her lips with yours in a passionate embrace. You moaned in surprise, her soft lips felt like pillowy clouds as she moved against you, bringing your body close to hers desperately. You never thought a pair of lips could feel so heavenly. “Your Grace-”

“Alicent. Call me Alicent.” She interrupted, keeping her lips close to yours, never taking her eyes off you.

“Alicent…” You whispered, “are you sure you want this? Want me?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” She spoke clearly, her big, brown, doe eyes boring into yours, making you feel like she could see into your soul. You believed her, and that was enough for you. Damn the consequences.

You surged forward, capturing her lips once again. “I’ve wanted this for an age.” You confessed against her lips, not having the will to pull away, even to tell her what you’ve wanted to say for what felt like a lifetime. “I’ve always wanted you, Alicent.”

“And I you…it took me a bit of time to figure that out. I apologize. I did not wish to be rude to you, but I was scared. I still am.”

You cupped her jaw, encouraging her to look into your eyes. “I’m scared too. But whatever happens will be worth being with you, my beautiful Queen.”

i'm team black, i swear😰

#house of the dragon #alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower x f!reader #alicent hightower x fem!reader #alicent hightower smut #alicent hightower imagine

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thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 3 months ago

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Devil's Snare part.5

Aemond Targaryen x reader

Description: Aemond introduces Y/N to his mother as his betrothed, much to the displeasure of Otto Hightower. The strength of their love for one another is tested by the whispers which spread throughout the court of the one-eyed Prince and his strange choice to wed his handmaiden. All the while, Aemond is insistent that Y/N meet Vhagar.

Previous part

Writer's note: I am so sorry this took so long! I had major writer's block and overthought the hell out of it. Its giving "started making it, had a breakdown, bon appetit" for the people who get that reference 😂. Also wanted to avoid HOTD content when the leaks happened. We finally get the wedding in this part so shout out to @ateliefloresdaprimavera this one's for you! Unsure whether you guys want this to continue into the dance of dragons plot, I might need to diverge from canon. I thought I'd do a Lord of the Tides part next as a test run.

Warnings: female reader, canon typical misogyny, slut shaming, Granny Vhagar (in the flesh this time), sexual innuendo but no smut (sorry, I just don't read it so don't think I could write it well), lengthy as always.

Y/N felt nervous butterflies fluttering against her ribcage as Aemond led her along the halls of the Red Keep to his mother's chambers, grounded only by the feel of his hand wrapped around hers. It was all she could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other, so anxious was she of the Queen's response to her son's decision to marry her, a mere handmaiden. But she could not bear to hold Aemond back any longer, not when his face glowed with such happiness. Besides, she did not think he'd allow her to go back on her word now she'd promised herself to him. He'd all but taken her breath away with the force with which he'd kissed her and grabbed her hand to pull her from his chambers almost immediately afterwards in his eagerness. She'd subconsciously halted where she stood, her thoughts panicked and frenzied as she realised the weight of her words and that Aemond really meant to waste no more time in informing his mother, the Queen herself. Aemond, however, was all too impatient to marry the girl he loved.

Stopping as he felt her hand go limp in his he turned to her, assessing the panic on her face. Suddenly taking hold of her waist, he pulled her against him so that their bodies seemed to melt into one another, causing Y/N to blush a furious shade of scarlet as she felt the contours of his body against hers. Aemond smirked, always pleased he was able to have such an affect over her. "I'm afraid my patience has been entirely spent, my love. I can tarry no longer in making you my wife. I will carry you to my mother's chambers if I must." His hand tightened around her waist, not enough to hurt but enough to make her gasp as she realised he may actually be serious. Strengthening her grip on his hand, she stuttered out a semblance of a response. "That will not be necessary, My Prince." Aemond's eyebrows shot up at that. "I am no longer just Aemond to you?"

Y/N's blush deepened at her blunder, hoping she hadn't offended him in her state of nervousness. "I am sorry, my love. It just slipped out."

Aemond's face softened and he lightly trailed a hand across her face. "You have not called me that before." Y/N realised he was right. Aemond was so free with his affections, with terms of endearment, but this seemed to be the last layer of intimacy she had struggled to breakthrough. Y/N looked down, somewhat ashamed that she had been so slow to offer Aemond the love he gave so freely in return, feeling strongly that she did not deserve him. Her chin was tilted upwards by a gentle hand as Aemond brushed his lips against hers, the ghost of a kiss. "It matters not what you call me, only call me yours and I should be content." Y/N felt such a strong surge of love for Aemond in that moment, in light of his understanding of her difficulty expressing affection and his unfaltering patience with her nonetheless. She felt her nerves dissipate a little, and grabbing his hand more resolutely she led them from his chambers herself.

Aemond had been pleased Y/N had gone willingly, he had not been jesting when he told her he'd carry her to his mother's chambers. He knew that she loved him and it was only the opinions of others that concerned her, and Aemond could no longer allow such unfounded fears to delay their union. He wanted her and by the grace of the Seven she wanted him too. That was all that mattered to him now, and he was prepared to fight for the girl he loved, from any opposition they may face. Aemond strode purposefully towards his mother's chambers, having no care for the lateness of the evening, but slowed as he felt Y/N's grip loosen oncemore, looking back to see her tailing behind him. Sighing, he lowered his torso to meet her eyes. "Y/N I will put you over my shoulder. Unless you have decided you will not have me after all?" He hated the tinge of insecurity that laced his voice.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide with alarm. "That is not what I want. I wish to be your wife. I am only frightened of meeting your mother."

Aemond took hold of her elbows. "I assure you there is nothing to fear. She will love you in time as I do. I will not allow anyone to come between us."

"You sound so certain."

Aemond shot Y/N a roguish grin. "You can depend upon it. Come now." Reclaiming her hand he pulled them down the final corridor which led to his mother's chambers, addressing his mother's sworn protector before they'd even reached the end of the hall. "Ser Criston, I would speak with my mother."

Ser Criston's eyebrows pulled into a confused frown as his eyes flitted between the Prince's serious expression and the hand which clasped his handmaiden's. "The hour is late, my prince. Her grace is presently engaged with the Hand of the King."

Aemond startled slightly before schooling his features into a mask of calm, not wishing to alarm Y/N any more. He had not expected to contend with both his mother and Otto Hightower this night, but it mattered little. He had no intention of backing down on the matter of his marriage to Y/N, whatever the opposition.

"It is no matter Cole, my mother will be gladdened by the news I bring her."

Aemond was not certain of this fact, but he assumed an air of self-assurance nonetheless as he released Y/N's hand to pat Criston on the shoulder, pushing the door to his mother's chambers open.

His mother's eyes snapped up to him as he entered, Y/N shuffling in behind him whilst lightly clutching onto his tunic. He discreetly reached behind him to take hold of her free hand, hoping to provide her some degree of comfort. His mother looked flushed as if she had just been shouting and his good eye immediately sought out the object of her distress, landing on his grandsire Otto whose expression was one of irritation. Aemond narrowed his eyes at the scene before him, clearly he had interrupted an argument. He loved his mother and had never forgotten how she had been the only one to speak up for him and defend him on driftmark when he had lost his eye. Fixing Otto with a stern glare he returned his gaze to his mother. "Mother, I wish to introduce you to my betrothed. I have asked Y/N to marry me and, happily, she has agreed to become my wife." Aemond spoke with finality, he would not prevaricate or draw this out any longer than he needed to. An eery silence followed for an agonisingly long time before Alicent rose to meet Aemond, hands reaching out towards him. He regretfully released Y/N's hand to take his mother's proferred hands. She spoke softly as if to a young child who needed to be coaxed away from doing something dangerous. "Aemond, she is your handmaiden."

"She was my handmaiden, she is my lady now."

Alicent shook her head and closed her eyes, as if when she opened them again the image of Aemond and his handmaiden would only have been a figment of her imaginings. When she opened them and observed her son's determined expression, she blanched. "Aemond, you cannot mean to marry a servant. You are a Prince of the realm and you know it is your duty to marry for the benefit of the crown. I'm sure your handmaiden is lovely, but she is not a suitable marriage prospect."

Aemond's own tone sharpened. He misliked his mother talking as if Y/N was not standing right behind him, her own hand tightening on his tunic.

"Mother, I did not come to argue with you. The matter is settled. I love her and will marry no other. Would you deny me this happiness I have been fortunate enough to find, after all I have lost?" Aemond began to hope his mother was losing her resolve as her eyes softened, one hand reaching up to cup his cheek. But it was at that moment that Otto hightower broke his silence. "Will you truly entertain this nonsense Alicent?"

Then turning to Aemond, "Are you so foolish boy? Or have you got the girl with child? There are other ways of dealing with this than sullying your title with a marriage to a low born girl." Alicnet had to push against Aemond's chest as his face contorted in anger, taking a step forward towards his grandsire. He practically snarled in response. "I will not suffer insults to my betrothed or allow you to taint her honour with your vile assumptions."

Otto's anger only rose to match Aemond's as he shouted back at him. "It would be an embarasment for your family, for your House, for the crown itself. Do you care for nothing but your own base desires, boy?"

Aemond's voice was dangerously low and seething. "My love for Y/N is pure, there is nothing base about it. I'll thank you to watch your words, grandsire. I intend to serve my House dutifully with Y/N at my side. Am I not our House's strongest sword? Do I not ride the largest and most ancient dragon in the world?"

Seemingly writing Aemond off as a lost cause, he looked around the Prince to the girl cowering behind him. Perhaps she might be swayed to sense.

"Girl, you must know that this would be a disastrous match for the realm. I am sure you must feel something for the Prince. Would you not then see him ascend to his rightful position and marry for the good of the realm?

The girl's face turned disconsolate. Aemond lost his composure entirely, brushing past his mother and advancing on his grandsire, each word laced with venom. "Do not speak to her as if she were just an object to be dispensed with when it is no longer of use."

Otto's eyes flitted back to the girl, ignoring his nephew's attempts at intimidation. He was sure Ser Criston would intervene if it came to violence.

"What will you take to renounce this farcical pact? A girl like you should want for security, the path you tread will offer you only strife and judgement. Will you take coin, jewels, an elevated position perhaps?"

He watched his nephew's reaction closely for any sign he would strike, coiled as he was like a viper.

Instead, he saw his nephew's face crumple and his good eye widen. Mayhaps he feared the girl would take him up on his offer.

Looking back to the girl, Otto was startled by the fierceness of the glare she now levelled at him. She'd only seemed a timid creature moments before, easily malleable to his will. She took determined steps forward until she stood next to Aemond, taking his hand in hers. Looking steadfastly up at Otto, she spoke for the first time with an air of confidence he had not expected from her. "I love Prince Aemond and I will not abandon him, whatever you offer me." His nephew's face softened as he gazed down at the girl, perhaps he had not expected such a reaction from her either. Before Otto could incite Aemond enough to strike him, Alicent intervened. "Aemond, we will discuss this further tomorrow. I will have separate chambers prepared for Y/N. She cannot be permitted to continue in service as your handmaiden if these are your wishes. It would continue to raise questions." Alicent knew her son. He was determined and unlike to make a vow he did not mean.

Aemond smiled at his mother, pleased by her softened resolve, though she still looked unconvinced. "Very well Mother, thank you. I will see you on the morrow." Lightly pulling Y/N with him he quickly strode from the room, not stopping until they had passed along several hallways and were far from his mother's chambers. Halting without warning, Y/N almost bumped into him before he caught her, wrapping her up in his arms and leaning his head down to rest against her shoulder.

"Thank you, my brave girl."

Aemond had felt a deeper scar than the one he bore upon his face begin to heal over as Y/N had affirmed her love for him, standing up to the Hand of the King himself to remain at his side. He could not put into words how much her actions had meant to him, knowing how difficult it must have been for her to do so. He cursed himself for believing, just for a moment, there was a possibility of Y/N taking Otto up on one of his sordid offers, so used was he to being the second choice as the second son, and even then it was only Rhaenyra his father truly cared for. He knew how inherently good Y/N was, how she returned his love, and decided his faith would never falter again. Releasing his hold on her he slid his hand down her arm before interlocking their hands. "Come, I will walk you back to the servant's quarters for tonight. Tomorrow you will have more adequate chambers fit for a princess."

Y/N lightly swatted at Aemond's chest. "Aemond, it would scare the servant's half to death for a Prince to show up unannounced at this hour. Rumours will run rife. And I am no princess."

"I do not care, my love I wish to walk my betrothed safely to her door. Besides, you shall be my princess shortly and I wish you to be treated as such. I would shower you with jewels if you would allow it."

Y/N blushed, looking down at the ground. "I have no need of extravagant gifts, Aemond. You know I have always managed quite well with my room in the Keep and with less before that."

Aemond frowned, his heart dropping at the thought of the hardships Y/N must have faced whilst his every need was tended to in the Keep. "I do not like to think of you suffering any deprivation." Y/N squeezed his hand comfortingly. "It was not so bad, I was very lucky to secure a position in the crown's service at a young age."

Aemond tucked a tendril of hair behind Y/N's ear, smiling softly at her and humming as if in thought. "Well, if you will not take jewels, I will need to find another way to express my adoration for you, little one."

Aemond made good on his promise, and everyday a squire would arrive at Y/N's newly appointed chambers to deliver a bouquet of bluebells to her door. Y/N had no idea how Aemond was managing to get hold of so many bluebells, aware as she was that they did not grow within the grounds of Kings Landing, but she adored them and her heart fluttered at the Prince's thoughtfulness. He had heeded her previous rejection of jewels, but he sent her gifts he thought would be more acceptable to her instead; books he thought she might like to read, as thanks to him and Helaena this had become a favourite past time of hers, new gowns in the colours of his House, which made the prospect of their marriage feel more real to her, that she really would be his lady. But it was the flowers that made her feel closer to him as her abrupt change of circumstances meant she could no longer spend time with him alone in his chambers, and she missed him when he was attending to his duties during the day.

She would have been bored out of her mind if not for the company of Helaena who was only too happy to receive her as a sister. She spent the better part of her days in Helaena's chambers, either playing with the little Prince Jahaerys and his sister Princess Jahaera, or discussing her upcoming nuptials with the Princess Helaena. Aemond came to see her at least once a day when it was permitted in his sister's chambers, or she would come to watch him in the training yard. But she misliked the stares she received and found herself seeing Aemond less and less as a result. The Queen had tentatively consented to her marriage with Aemond, despite the Hand's open distate, but she had not spoken to Y/N since. She was all too aware how the Queen and her father saw her as a burden to the Prince, to House Targaryen. As such, the wedding was set to be a small affair, which suited Y/N's shy nature. Though she did hope that in time she might be able to bond with the Queen if she truly saw how happy she and Aemond were together. What mother would not wish their son to be happy?

Rounding a corridor on the way to Helaena's chambers, Y/N heard giggles and muffled whispers, halting in her tracks as she heard the repeated refrain of Aemond's name.

"The Prince Aemond...marrying his handmaiden."

"With child, surely?"

"It is a wonder she is not frightened of him with that scar."

"I could not do it."

"Perhaps no other ladies of the court could stand it?"

She struggled to discern the nature of the conversation between the three ladies of the court, only picking out bits and pieces at first. But when she pieced it together she felt her blood heat as outrage rose up within her.

Before she could think through her actions, Y/N stepped out from behind the wall which concealed her and stormed towards the three ladies who glanced up at the heavy tread of her steps. "You should not speak of the Prince in such a manner. Have you no shame, no respect for the Crown?" The lady closest to her scowled, shifting her raven hair over her shoulders as she upturned her nose at Y/N. "Who are you to presume you can dictate what we should or should not discuss? This is a private conversation."

Y/N was sure she must resemble Vhagar, though she'd never seen the she-dragon, with her own flames pouring forth from her in the form of her heated cheeks. "I am the Prince Aemond's betrothed you speak of. I will not allow you to sully the Prince's name with your false rumours or distasteful remarks about the scar he bears through no fault of his own." The raven haired lady's tone turned mocking then. "So you are the handmaiden then? How dare you talk to your betters this way? Know your place girl."

Y/N's fists clenched unconsciously. "My place is beside the Prince, or defending him from ignorant people like you who would insult him over something entirely out of his control. I must refute your cruel assumptions. The Prince is a noble warrior, a fierce dragon rider, and a dedicated scholar, deserving of your respect. Greater still, he is kind and a gentleman, and I do not fear him in the slightest. Any lady would be lucky to receive his affections and it is my good fortune that he has decided to bestow them on me, though I am but a lowly handmaiden as you say. This only speaks more to his character, that he is able to see past the physical appearance of things, unlike certain members of this court."

Chest heaving, her breath coming in short pants as she finished her tirade, Y/N glared at the three ladies, daring them to speak another word against Aemond.

The raven haired girl took a step towards her, a clear attempt at intimidation. "Be careful girl. You are not wed yet. Who knows how long you will have Prince Aemond's favour. The love of a Prince is a fickle, fleeting thing." When Y/N only continue to scorch her with her glare, the three ladies stalked away. Y/N could feel herself still trembling slightly in her anger at the insults levelled at Aemond. She had never stood up to anyone, her naturally timid nature and status as a servant did not lend themselves to such agency. Though she felt a sense of satisfaction in having done so in defence of the man she loved.

Alicent Hightower had been making her way to her daughter's chambers when she came across the odd sight of the girl, Y/N, squaring her shoulders and raising her voice to three ladies of the court. Shocked at first that she should be so brazen, she stepped forward to intervene, quickly relenting once she approached close enough to hear the nature of the girl's tirade. Instead, the Queen felt her heart warming to the girl as she heard her passionate defence of her son, beginning to understand the depth of Aemond's feelings for the girl. No one save herself had ever defended him so steadfastly. And Alicent could admit that even she had been somewhat lax in expressing her affections for Aemond. This girl clearly loved her son, unconditionally so, and Alicent could not but help to feel grateful to her for this fact. She loved all of her children and wanted them to feel safe and loved. The King barely took note of Aemond, no matter how hard he tried to embody the traits of a true Targaryen, whilst he revered Rhaenyra's plain featured bastards. It was an insult to all decency. In that moment, Alicent resolved to accept this marriage fully and try to bond with the girl, Y/N she reminded herself. Aemond deserved to be loved and she would defend his right to marry the girl should her father or husband express any further opposition.

Aemond was surprised to be summoned to his mother's chambers that evening, she spent the greater portion of her time with Helaena and rarely sent for him. Though he often wished she would show him more affectation as his mother. He grew concerned she wished to talk him out of his engagement with Y/N, already having tentatively expressed her apprehension to the match to no avail. He would not hear anymore on the matter if that were the case.

"Prince Aemond, your grace."

"Thank you Ser Criston."

Aemond entered his mother's chambers as Cole announced him, back ramrod straight and hands clasped behind his back.

Hi mother waited until Cole had shut the door behind him before taking both his hands in her own. "I wish to talk to you on Y/N, Aemond."

"Mother..."

"No, let me speak my peace. I wish only to tell you that I approve of your marriage to the girl and give you my blessing. I will defend your choice alongside you should the need arise again. Though I believe your grandsire has written it off as a lost cause and you well know your father's condition."

Aemond squeezed his mother's hands, hardly believing such a change could have come about so suddenly. "I thank you, Mother. May I ask what has prompted you to change your opinion on Y/N?"

Aemond felt the love he had always wished for from his mother as she smiled warmly up at him. "You'll be pleased to know your betrothed is not so timid as she seems. I came across her defending you quite passionately against three members of the court today. She would hear no insult to your name or your intentions towards her, and made her love and respect for you abundantly clear to the three ladies...and to myself. I confess myself greatly moved by her love for my son."

Aemond felt pride rise within him at Y/N's defence of him and his love grow for her if that were even possible. Taking his mother's hand to place a kiss upon her knuckles, he released her to go and thank his lady. "My heart is gladdened to hear of it mother, and grateful for the affect it has had upon your own. I will bid you goodnight now."

Y/N jumped at the sound of a knock at her chamber door. The hour was late and she had been preparing for bed. She was not entirely certain she should be opening the door in her night dress at this hour but did not wish to be rude if it were a matter of importance, a summons from the Queen herself even. Y/N had barely taken the lock of the latch and opened the door before she was unceremoniously crushed to Aemond's chest, shrieking as she was lifted into the air and spun until her back met the door as he quickly swung it closed, shushing her as he did so. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck reflexively, though she knew he would not drop her. "Aemond what in the Seven..?"

Aemond silenced her with a kiss that took her breath away as he continued to hold her against his body. Melting into his kiss, Y/N tangled her hands in his hair, not caring anymore for the abruptness of his greeting. Pulling away so they could catch their breath, Aemond gently set her down though he kept a hold on her waist. To Y/N, his face looked ethereal in the soft glow of the candle light as he smiled at her.

"I apologise for startling you, my love. I did not wish anyone to see me enter given the lateness of the hour."

Y/N was half dazed by Aemond's proximity and the tingling sensation on her lips from when he'd kissed her, but she willed herself not to just stand gaping at him. "And what brings you to my chambers at this hour?" Her tone was light and teasing. She had missed him and was glad he'd come to see her whatever his reason.

Aemond stepped closer towards Y/N before bringing his lips to her jaw. Y/N gasped softly, but pulled him closer to her instinctively as he kissed down her jaw and spoke against her skin. "I came to thank you for defending me. My mother spoke of it to me."

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as Aemond began to kiss her neck but tried to maintain a degree of composure to respond to him. She had not been aware of the Queen's presence at the time. "I did not like to hear others speak badly of you. They do not know you as I do." Y/N lifted a hand to stroke his hair as Aemond hummed in response, planting a kiss against her clavicle just above the neckline of her night gown. Her eyes flew open as she realised for the first time that she was, in fact, only in her night gown and the situation was less than appropriate. Pushing Aemond back slightly by his shoulders she tried to keep her voice quiet so as not to alert anyone who might pass by to Aemond's presence in her chambers. "Aemond, I'm only in my night gown!"

Aemond looked confused that she had only just realised this. "I'm well aware, you look beautiful."

Y/N blushed scarlet. "That's not what I meant. But if we're seen together like this, people will think..." She trailed off, hoping Aemond would understand her concerns without her having to spell it out.

Aemond grinned at her. "I only wished to thank my lady for defending my honour. Having done so I shall depart forthwith. I will be discreet." He took Y/N's hand and pulled her with him as he quietly opened the chamber door, glancing around for any signs of movement. Quickly turning to bid his lady goodnight with a final peck on the lips, he shut the door behind him and hurried back to his own chambers, unable to contain his smile as the image of Y/N's flushed cheeks and hair mussed from his ministrations swam in his mind.

Y/N shivered as a cold breeze blew through the courtyard of the Red Keep, blowing whisps of hair into her eyes, which she quickly brushed away. Aemond had asked her to meet him that morning for she knew not what, but the presence of the horse being saddled by a young squire by the steps of the Keep entrance concerned her somewhat.

"Y/N"

At the sound of her voice she looked up to see Aemond taking the steps three at a time to meet her, immediately wrapping an arm around her waist to kiss her as he reached the bottom.

"Good morning, my love" He pulled back to smile at her, the biting cold of the crisp morning seemingly having no affect on his mood. She supposed the blood of the dragon spared him.

Placing a hand against his chest she realised she was right as heat seemed to radiate from him whilst she stood there shivering. "Good morning, Aemond."

Taking hold of the hand that was on his chest in both of his, Aemond began rubbing his hands up and down hers "Your hands are cold. We should head off while the skies remain clear." With that he began pulling her towards the horse, just as she'd feared. She'd never ridden before and could foresee embarassment just at the thought of mounting the horse. "And where are we going, Aemond?"

Without stopping Aemond called back to her over his shoulder. "To visit Vhagar. It is important to me that you become acquainted." Y/N blanched, she'd expressed her interest in dragons early on to Aemond, they were almost like gods to her, but also her fear of them...and Vhagar was the largest and fiercest of them all. Aemond had taken to mentioning Vhagar with increasing regularity to her and she should have realised this was inevitable. His grip on her hand was tight and carried with it a sense of finality. Sighing and accepting her fate, hoping the dragon wouldn't cook her on sight, she asked the other question that was on her mind.

"Why do we have need of a horse to see your dragon? The dragon pit is within walking distance, is it not?"

"Vhagar is too large for the dragon pit. She resides on the outskirts of the city."

Y/N gulped. Aemond was always so nonchalant about his fearsome dragon, as if she were a friend to him rather than a fire breathing beast. She could not be so calm about the danger.

As Aemond released her hand to take the reigns of the horse from the squire, she looked sceptically at the saddle. Before she could make a disastrous attempt at mounting the horse, warm hands lifted her by the waist onto its back. Aemond followed swiftly, positioning himself behind her.

Y/N blushed as Aemond reach around her to take the reigns, encompassing her in his arms as the horse broke into a canter. His breath tickled the hair by her ear as he leant his head on her shoulder. "Relax." She realised she had been sitting stiff as a board, tilted forward, and leaned more fully into him, her back pressing against his chest. She felt a sense of security in Aemond's arms, even as she want to meet a dragon, his warmth seeping into her.

Aemond smiled as he felt Y/N shift closer to him, basking in her proximity and how far they had come for her to be so comfortable with him now. He'd been bemused at the look on her face as she'd approached the horse, tentatively placing her smaller hand on the saddle. He doubted she had any or at least very little experience with horse riding. Lifting her up onto the horse himself and wrapping his arms around her to take the reigns, he thought to himself that he should have invented an excuse to do so long before.

They fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by Y/N's gasp as what she'd thought had been a huge mountain moved and lifted its head, seemingly sensing its rider's approach. Not a mountain...Vhagar.

"It is alright, Y/N. She will not harm you. I am here."

Bringing the horse to a stop a safe distance away from the she-dragon, Aemond jumped down before turning to lift Y/N down. Vhagar was looking inquisitively at them and Y/N feared she was wondering whether Aemond had brought her a snack, though she was also awestruck by the sight of a real dragon before her. "Stay here a moment, I will calm her before I introduce you."

With that he approached the large dragon as if she were only a small dog, speaking softly to her and patting her snout when he was close enough.

"Lykirri Vhagar, dohaeras."

Y/N felt her lips quirk up in an involuntary smile and her cheeks heat at the smooth, low tone of Aemond's voice as he spoke in High Valyrian. She had not heard him speak it before but found it unspeakably attractive. Y/N could not understand what Aemond was saying, but whatever it was seemed to have a calming affect on the she-dragon as she rested her head back on the ground, not even looking at Y/N anymore. She could not school her features before Aemond looked back at her, returning to her side and looking down at her questioningly. "I do so love to see you blush, might I inquire as to the cause on this occasion?"

Y/N wanted the ground to swallow her up at his directness, but as she began to turn from Aemond to hide her glowing cheeks, he only took hold of her elbow and turned her back towards him. "There is no need to be embarassed, Ñuha prūmia." As her blush deepened and she squirmed away from him realisation dawned on Aemond's face, and he graced her with a knowing smirk.

"Ah, I see."

Y/N felt the need to explain herself, but only managed to stumble over her own words. "It is only that I like to hear you speak in Valyrian, it has an elegance to it. I mean to say that I find the sound of your voice comforting. Wait, that sounds worse." Flustered she placed her head in her hands, hearing Aemond chuckle softly as he prised her hands from her face. "I am glad you like the sound of my voice, my darling, and I'll speak to you in High Valyrian more often if it should please you.

Brushing his hand over her blazing cheek he brought his face low to speak against her ear, his voice barely above a whisper. "Iksā gevie, Issa jorrāelagon."

A shiver went down Y/N's spine, though she did not understand the meaning of the words. "What does it mean?"

Aemond pulled back, his smile widening at her physical reaction to his voice. "Do you truly wish to know?" Y/N narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the cunning glint in Aemond's eye, resolving to just ask Helaena later. She hoped it was not anything too crude. "I'm suddenly not so sure I do." Aemond patted her cheek affectionately before taking her hand in his. "Come then, I wish you to meet Vhagar. She is calm now. It is safe."

Interlocking their fingers, Aemond gently pulled Y/N towards Vhagar until she was close enough to touch the she-dragon. Pulling their joint hands up, he placed Y/N's palm on Vhagar's side. The Prince observed Y/N's face switch from one of trepidation to a look of of wonder as he smoothed their hands down the tough surface of Vhagar's scales. His dragon was not perturbed in the slightest, a relaxed hum reverberating through her as she huffed out soft tendrils of smoke.

He knew that Vhagar could feel the great importance the girl beside him held for Aemond, could feel his love for her, through their shared bond. And as such she would not harm her. But it warmed his heart to see the two great loves of his life interact. His bond with Vhagar had been the most important connection in his life before he met Y/N. She was his only friend, their bond with one another unequivocal, unbreakable. Introducing Y/N to Vhagar felt like baring the most essential parts of his soul to her. He hoped that Y/N might even agree to a ride with Vhagar in the future as she grew more comfortable with his dragon, and his heart raced with excitement at the prospect. There was no feeling like riding high in the skies, as if touching the heavens, nothing so pure as the trust between a dragon and it's rider. Aemond wanted to experience this with Y/N in time.

Y/N allowed the Queen to manage preparations for her wedding entirely, grateful there would only be a small wedding feast afterwards. The Queen had been nothing but warm and welcoming to her since she'd witnessed Y/N defending her son so vociferously. Y/N would be forever grateful to Helaena for teaching her the basics of dancing and only hoped she would not embarass herself too greatly, though she was excited at the prospect of dancing with Aemond. There was only one matter she had a strong opinion on, and that was her dress. One conversation with Helaena had convinced her that her dress should be blue. The Queen had seemed unsure at first, the common colour being white, but did not see the harm if Y/N was adamant.

Though Y/N was racked by nerves on the morning of her wedding, she was overjoyed by the way her dress had turned out. The soft midnight blue fabric and the golden detailing shifted elegantly as she moved, and Y/N thought it resembled the night sky. She only hoped Aemond would also like it. Butterflies erupted in the pit of her stomach as she faced the long expanse of the aisle of the Sept, her arm interlocked with the Prince Aegon's.

Aemond's brother had been surprisingly pleasant to her, despite his reputation for being somewhat of a menace at court, and had offered to walk her down since she had no surviving male relatives of her own to do so. Searching Aemond out, she felt her nerves settle somewhat at the sight of him, handsome garbed in his ivory tunic and with a soft smile upon his face as he took her in. Taking his hand in hers, Y/N felt a wave of calm rush over her at how their hands fit together, as if made for one another. Her feeling of contentment, of pieces falling into place, only intensified as they spoke their vows and Aemond placed a cloak embroidered with the colours of House Tagaryen over her shoulders.

The wedding feast itself passed with little ceremony, including only a small gathering of nobles. Aegon had sunk into his cups early into the evening and managed to make a fool of himself drunkenly pulling Y/N about the room in the semblance of a dance, insistent that he should "welcome his new sister into the family properly" before she was rescued by her husband. Her heart fluttered at the thought as she placed her hands on his shoulders and he pulled her close to lead her in the steps of the dance. Aemond did not much like to dance, but that night he did for Y/N and found he did not mind so much when it was his wife he held in his arms rather than the simpering noble ladies that had been thrust upon him at feasts before. As the hour grew late and Y/N felt herself growing overwhelmed under the watchful gaze of the courtiers, they made to retire to their chambers. Aegon had just barely spoken the words "bedding ceremony" before Aemond fixed him with a glare so fierce he immediately quietened and went back to his cups.

Shutting the doors to their shared chambers, his heart warming at the thought, Aemond's smile fell as he turned to see his wife anxiously wringing her hands and shifting from one foot to the other. He gently gripped her shoulders. "Are you well, my love?"

"I confess I am a little afraid." Realisation dawned upon him. It was not uncommon for ladies to be concerned about their wedding night, but he did not wish his wife to be.

"You needn't be. We do not have to do anything. I can just hold you."

Aemond's felt a surge of guilt at Y/N's still uneasy expression, he hated to think she felt she had to do anything she was not yet comfortable with out of duty. It was more than enough for him that she was now his wife. He wished her to understand that he would never force her, or pressure her for anything more than she would allow.

Gently taking her hand he purposefully pulled her away from the bed to the chaise in the centre of the room. "Come, sit and talk with your husband a while."

He hoped if he continued on as they normally would, Y/N would feel less nervous. Keeping hold of her hand in both of his he turned to her, mouth quirked up in a conspiratorial smirk. "You have been thoroughly inducted into House Targaryen now with all its foibles. I hope Aegon's fool hardy behaviour did not alarm you too much. I must warn you that I will not allow myself to be parted from you even if it did."

Aemond felt his heart warm at her laugh, hoping she was beginning to feel more comfortable. They talked for a while before Y/N suddenly quietened, her expression sheepish. Aemond squeezed her hand gently, concerned that his wife might be afraid of him by the way she was looking at him. Her next words quickly dispelled that thought. But they instilled in him a different fear entirely, causing him to stiffen as she tentatively raised a hand to brush against his cheek, along the strap of his eyepatch.

"May I see you without your eyepatch, husband?"

Aemond caught her wrist, halting her movements, his voice laced with an admixture of shame and fear he had carried with him since he had lost his eye. He had gained a dragon, the largest and fiercest in the world, but he had been irreparably maimed for it. It was an act of violence that had changed the way people looked at him ever since and he could not bear it if Y/N should look at him with disgust or horror, or shame. "It is an ugly thing, my love. Not for the faint of heart."

"It is a part of you, Aemond. I will not judge you for it. I wish only to look upon the face of my husband, who I love dearly."

Aemond closed his eyes briefly, trying to control the erratic beating of his heart as he sought a way to distract his wife from her current train of thought, to disway her from her wish to see what lay beneath his eyepatch. He did not know if he could part with this layer of armour, the fear of rejection palpable in the air between them.

"I do not know..."

Y/N cut him off before he could give his excuses.

"If you will not show me, will you tell me how it happened? If it is not too painful. I know that it was your nephew Lucerys who was to blame." Aemond was surprised by the biting tone of his wife's voice as she spoke the name of his nephew. But he was grateful for the escape she had offered him and so he told her everything. Of how he had so oft been an outcast, jeered at by his brother and nephews when his dragon egg failed to hatch. He told her of how they'd mocked him with the promise of a dragon, only to present him with a pig. He told her of how he'd tried to offer his nephew Jacaerys comfort upon the death of Harwin Strong, of how he'd been rebuked and sought out Vhagar. How he'd claimed the largest dragon in the world, and how he'd lost an eye for it.

All the while Y/N stroked the side of his face, his hair, her eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowing at each painful memory Aemond recalled. When he'd finished, she pulled him to her, his head coming to rest in the crook of her neck. "I hate that you have suffered so much at the hands of those who should love you. I wish I had been there for you." Aemond felt his heart seize, unused to such care, such devotion to his well being. "I do not wish to distress you, my wife. I am perfectly content now."

Y/N huffed. "I always want you to feel comfortable telling me about these parts of yourself Aemond. I would like a word with your nephews though" she grumbled out under her breath. Aemond let out a hearty laugh at that, clutching his wife tighter to him "Perhaps it is not Vhagar my enemies should fear, but my fearsome, protective wife. I have long since forgiven Lucerys, it is his lack of punishment that has always pained me, rather than the act itself."

Y/N pulled away from him to look into his face, cupping his cheek where his eyepatch rested. "Then you are a better man than most."

As gratitude for his wife's care washed over him, Aemond felt that he did not need to hide from Y/N anymore, that it might be a relief for her to see him as he truly was without the fear of her reacting negatively. She had not judged him at any moment for his scar or as he told her of the misfortunes of his childhood. Had she not been the one to mend the very eyepatch he now wore upon his face the day they had met, knowing what it meant to him? He trusted her fully, and would show her as much.

"I do not mind if you wish to see it, my love." Taking strength from the warmth of his beloved's hand he placed both their hands atop the strap of his eyepatch and slowly removed it from his face, leaving only the sapphire where his eye should have been. He closed his good eye, not wishing to see his wife's initial reaction, aware the sight was ghastly and harrowing for most. The soft touch of her fingers down the line of his scar grounded him, reassuring him that she was not disgusted with him. She did not despise him.

"It is beautiful, Aemond."

Aemond snapped his eye open, looking at Y/N as if she'd lost her mind. "Beautiful? I expected you to shriek or faint at the sight of it. You are always surprising me Y/N."

"I think every part of you beautiful, the sapphire compliments you well. Why did you think I had a blue dress made? It is not the common colour for a wedding gown."

"You had your dress made to match me?"

Aemond spoke slowly, each word latent with barely repressed emotion.

Y/N nodded eagerly. "Yes, Helaena told me of your sapphire. I know it is not common knowledge but I thought it might please you."

Moved by his wife's sweet gesture, Aemond pulled her towards him so she was halfway in his lap, one hand holding her head to his chest.

"I worried you would hate me for it, that you would come to regret tying yourself to a man with such a deformity when you are perfection itself."

Y/N pulled back from him then, all seriousness as she considered how best to show Aemond that his scar did not make him any less in her eyes, that she love all of him.

"I could never hate you, and it does not frighten me. If anything I only love you all the more for allowing me to see you this way, for trusting me. And as to me being perfect, I assure you it is only you who thinks so and I most certainly am not."

Leaning over Aemond, Y/N placed a trail of kisses along the length of his scar, pulling away to rest her hand on his cheek. "You will always be the most handsome man to me. My brave husband."

Y/N lowered herself from her position leant over him until she was straddling Aemond, his hands moving to her waist to keep her secure as he gazed up at her in awe. Bringing her lips to his, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself as close as she could to him. In the comfort of his arms and with the feel of his lips on her, Y/N realised she had never felt so safe, so seen with anyone as with Aemond, and her previous worries dissipated. She parted her lips, allowing Aemond to deepen the kiss, before reaching one hand down to take hold of Aemond's.

He did not oppose her as she moved it from her waist to place it on her collarbone, slowly moving it down her chest until it rested over her breast. She heard Aemond's breath hitch but steeled her courage as she continued to move her lips against his, all the while trailing his hand down her torso, her hip and finally her thigh. Aemond pulled away from her then to look into her eyes, seemingly searching for any doubt. "Are you sure, my heart?"

Y/N had never been so sure of anything in that moment as she was of her love for Aemond and his love for her. Bringing her hands up to his shoulders she pressed her lips to his forehead. "Yes."

Aemond smiled tenderly at her, his voice soft as he ran his fingers through her hair. "Avy jorrāelan." He knew that she would understand what that meant from the tone of his voice. Pressing her closer to him still, if that were possible, the prince crashed his lips against hers.

Valyrian translations:

Avy jorrāelan~ I love you

Iksā gevie~ You are beautiful

Issa jorrāelagon ~My love

Nuha prumia~ My heart

This might be the prettiest a man has ever looked. I was in shock your honour.

Also. How the fuck did he do this????!!!!

@zoetje2004 @jjkysnk @ieieibhibu8 @skymoonandstardust @truly-abysmal @idonotknowenglish @leonesimp @hyacinthesiss @nanawaffles @callsigncrushx @bitchyfestivalbouquet @void21 @sapphiresandferrari @pinkykats-place

@lportes-22

@superintenseart @youknownothingjohnwatson

@misspinkonmars @ateliefloresdaprimavera

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x f!reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen imagine #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen oneshot #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond x reader #alicent hightower #hotd season 2 #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aegon targaryen

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biwitchenergyz · 4 months ago

Text

A House of Blood and Fire (Teaser)

Next Chapter->

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“What gives you the right to defy me? What have I done to deserve your cruelty? Your disregard?” Rhaenyra never raised her voice to you, but now you have pushed her too far. “Why bring me news of your own deceit?” She does not plead for answers; instead, she demands them. You do not quiver under her gaze as you once would have. Instead, you state your case. "I will not apologize for marrying the man I love. If given the choice, I would be the conqueror reborn with Helaena and your brothers at my side.”

Saera Targaryen was born with ambition. Only now does Rhaenyra believe that you have inherited your mother's tenacious trait. “ I must admit, I was misled into joining the usurpation as I believe many were.” Your breath catches in your throat when Rhaenyra’s hand tightens around yours. You continue, “That is why I am here, to stop a war before it begins.” Helaena grips your waist, a comforting gesture.

“Will you make us prisoners, your grace?” Rhaenyra seems to break at your question. Her hardened eyes scan the room before she lands on you. The throne room is empty; no one knows of your arrival. “Fly back to your usurper husband and tell him I will have my throne, or I will have his head.” The realm’s delight raises her hand to dismiss the both of you, but your tongue is sharp and boundless. “Good sister, I fear it is the throne that shall have both your heads.”

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Read the first chapter of my story (inspired by my Saera Targaryen's daughter AU) on AO3

#house of the dragon #aemond x reader #aegon x reader #aemond x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #alicent hightower #aemond one eye #helaena x reader #f/f/m/m #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenicent #Targaryen Polyamory #aemond targaryen x reader

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myladysapphire · 5 months ago

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Solace

As the daughter of Alicent Hightower you had been fed stories of your older sister and her children, so when you are bethrothed to Jacaerys you arent too sure as to what to expect, and go into your courtship expecting the worse, only to find out you couldn't have been more wrong.

word count: 5,908

CW: MDI 18+, smut, fluff. p in v, fingering, loss of virginity, oral (f reciving), incest not beta read!

Jacaerys Veleryon x Fem!reader

a/n - no war au

Masterlist

She had been betrothed to Prince Jacearys since they were both children, before most noble children even knew the expectation of one day getting married off and yet since the day of said betrothal, they had not spent a single moment together. Nor had you exchanged a single letter nor a single thought of the other, at least she had not.

In all honesty she had simply lived as if he and their impending marriage did not exist, so when he returned for his brother's hearing and for their courtship to officially begin, they were at a complete loss of where to begin, they knew of no common interests, and there family’s had been pitted against each other their entire lives. Seeing as they had never been close in their youth, nor present much time together, seeing as she had kept to herself or Heleana, and Jacearys having spent most of his time with his brother and hers.

She had always preferred solitude, preferred to keep to her books, painting, and her beloved dragon Gaelithox. Gaelithox perhaps the only being she would spend day after day with willingly.

she had hoped he would be similar. Though from what she could remember, he always seemed to find himself surrounded by others, not once does she remember seeing him alone. Perhaps if she had then she would have gotten to know him. But for her crowds were her worst fear, talking to more than one person or anyone was really. But Jacearys was always the centre of attention, with his good looks and charisma, it seemed he never begged for attention, it just always simply found him. She hoped marrying him would not force her to become the same.

How they expected her to one day be queen confused her. With Jacearys as the future king she would have all these responsibilities and have to do everything she hated. Her mother had made sure to tell her that, to start to show her what would be expected of her.

For all she knew it was a scare tactic from her mother, y/n knew her mother hated them, she would call them bastards and would whisper in her ear more and more rumours about her eldest sister and her eldest son.

So, when he arrived all she could do was watch him. Scared to start a conversation, and too nervous to make any moves towards him. So she stood from the sidelines as he found himself surrounded by the keeps inhabitants.

As she watched him at dinner, following lucerys victory of being declared the future lord of the tides, she very much doubted he would like solitude as much as she did. The few moments where he found himself not in conversation, he almost seemed nervous. She feared he would never understand her fear of crowds, or her hate for balls and feasts. Nor understand what her mother referred to as her quirks. He was loud and charismatic, all traits she lacked. He was drawn to crowds and seemed to thrive at the events she hated. But he seemed to suffer in the moments she loved the moments alone, the quiet moments.

She had been forced to sit away from her usual seat and sit nearer to the centre, a place where all eyes were on her. She sat opposite her eldest sister, Rhaenyra, with Jacearys on one side, and Aegon on the other.

Aegon had been making crude jokes all evening, whispering and taunting her. Though she had become extremely talented at ignoring him, it was starting to bug her, and all she wished was to retire to bed.

Luckily, he seemed to be the only one interested in her, until Rhaenyra decided to start a conversation with her. She had never really known her eldest sister, having always been stopped by her mother. She remembered when her and Rhaenyra would have bi-weekly garden tea, until her mother found out and banned her from even going near Rhaenrya chambers.

Over the years her mother had told her only the worst about Rhaenyra, and forced her own hatred or mayhap envy of her onto y/n. And yet she only ever seemed to be kind to her when they did interact.

“Sister?” y/n heard her call out.

“Yes princess?” she responded, stuttering from being addressed.

“Are you quite alright, you look quite pale?” her face was concerned, as did Jaceaerys when he turned from his seat to face ger at his mother’s words.

“i-“ you looked down starting to pull at the skin on your fingers, “i do not find i fit in well in such gatherings, it's just stress” she spoke, voice shaking as y/n looked down and bringing her fingers to her mouth biting the skin around them.

“Would you like me to escort you back to your chambers?” She heard Jacearys ask in concern.

At this her mother’s attention was captured, as she snapped her head around, ending her conversation with her grandsire, in doing so capturing the whole tables attention “what’s wrong dearests?”

“i- i would like to retire mother?” y/n almost begged, desperate for the offered reprieve.

“of course Aem-“her mother began, before being interrupted, clearly offering Aemond to escort her to her chambers.

“I shall escort her,” Jacearys interrupted, standing from his seat and offering his hand that

she took it nervously. These were the most words either had spoken for each other, at least that she could remember.

Walking down the halls of the keep, she found herself in a comfortable silence. Though Jacearys seemed to find it rather uncomfortable as he began to ramble on about gods knows what.

“so i told Luke -“

She hummed, responding to a question she probably heard minutes ago, she hated to admit it but she was seriously struggling to follow whatever he was talking about. The topic of which changed near every second.

He stopped walking suddenly, causing her to be pulled back as their arms were still interlinked. He seemed to finally realise he was talking nonsense and had lost her completely “I’m sorry, I’ve been rambling on and you can’t even follow a word of what i was saying i-“

“oh no i- i, well yes, but I believe you are just nervous… as am il” y/n spoke softly.

He nodded, “your right, i- i have been trying to think of anything i know about you, any shared memories and yet i can not find a single thing” he shook his head, seemingly ashamed.

“oh well… we never really talked until today, i always much preferred my own company to that of others”

“oh i- really?” he sounded confused as if spending time by himself was beyond him.

“i always found i was always more myself when with others, in fact i find myself nervous when I am alone '' he spoke, slowly making sure not to ramble on once more.

“I suppose I have never found such solace with another person as to feel myself with another person” you looked down, she too seemed so polar to one another and feared her solitude would always be interrupted once she married him.

“I understand that, Luke is the same way” he looked at her then, “i hope that i can be the person you find solace in, one day..” he took her hands, stoking them softly, it was always a hard thing for her, touch. Always avoiding it, and only taking hugs to shaking someone’s hand when she knew social construct dictated she should. And yet with him it was fine it seemed nice almost, something she could get used to, even find solace in.

“I would like that” she nodded, and he gave her a sweet smile, relief almost washing over his face. He took her arm once more and led her back to her chambers, this time instead of rambling, he simply asked her questions about herself, and for once she happily answered them.

The next day she was awoken to the sound of rapped knocks on her door. Though she normally slept in, it was still rather early for such a thing. Opening the door she saw Jacaerys standing with a bouquet of flowers, more specifically peonies, a flower that you would often find embroidered on several of her dresses.

“Prince-“

”Jace” he interrupted “ please call me Jace, we are to be a married soon it is only right”

“Jace” she said slowly, getting used to the informality she lacked with even her own family , “what are you doing here so early?”

“Early?” he laughed, as if if the idea that nine in the morning could ever be considered early, “i suppose it could be”

”Why are you here?” She asked, almost irritated.

“Sorry,” he spoke, reaching his arm out to present her with the peonies'' i simply came to ask if we may break our fast, with the hope you had yet to eat and yet it seems i woke you,” he shook his head “i apologise, i am used to waking up early for training. I should have thought you may have preferred to sleep in” he looked down nervously.

Sniffing the flowers, she moved into her room, leaving the door agar as an invitation for Jace to come in. ”I would like that” she nodded, “Though this is still rather early for me, so i shall need to call my maids to help me dress and prepare our breakfast”

”early?” He again asked, “what time do you normally wake?”

”Mostly before noon, but not before 10,” you looked up with a small smile, “i find i can sleep the days away if allowed, it is one of the few things i can never seem to get enough off”

He laughed, the nerves leaving him slightly. “I find i am always awake by eight, at the latest, sadly i do not possess the same skill to sleep in, a skill i am much jealous of.” He smiled, “ i shall have the guards fetch your maids and order breakfast, and perhaps tomorrow we may share lunch instead”

“I would like that,” she nodded.

Their fast was spent with the exchange of shy smiles and timid questions asked, as time went on they grew more comfortable and found their rhythm, and she found the tiredness she felt from talking to others never came.

The next moon was perfect, each day she would wake, dress, then Jace would meet her and she broke her fast and he took his second meal. Then they would walk the gardens. After a few days, she confessed how typically she would ride Gaelithox the second she awoke, and soon they found they were going for dragon rides every morning. Vermax and Gaelithox enjoying each other's company. Every second was filled with chatter, and those few that were not, neither felt any awkwardness, just contentment, solace.

They seemed to spend almost every second of every day with each other and yet she not once found it tiring, or wished for a reprieve, she simply wished for more.

There were even days where she wished for no talking and Jace was more than happy to spend the whole day in silence, simply enjoying each other's company, as they went about their own tasks.

She felt as if she was learning everything there was to know about him, through his stories she felt as if she knew his brothers, his family, like she had grown up with them , and not just watching them. She learnt his quirks and he learnt hers. And every day they seemed to learn something new.

But today was the first day she would spend without him since his arrival, with her father , the king, asking for Jace to accompany the small council meetings from now on.

So she had planned to spend the day alone, resuming her old daily routine even on the days where Jace was not in her company.

That was until her mother decided to skip the small council meeting and spend the day with her.

”Do not ever trust them, dearest” her mother tutted, brushing through her hair. “They only wish for you and he to grow close so when the time comes you are on their side-“

She had tried to tune her out, but the instant comments answered messing with her head. She felt as if she was falling in love with Jace and yet they way her mother spoke of him, it was as if he was worse than Aegon, a fact she knew was not true.

“mother!” she finally snapped , shaking her head she pulled away from her mother, “i do not care! Jace shall be my husband and as you have reminded me since the day I first bleed, that my duty is to my husband and his family before my own.” she then whispered to herself “a fact you do not follow yourself” continuing she said “ so why now when it is the son of the woman you despise, am I to do the opposite?” It was so out of character for her and yet years and years of hearing the words bastard and betrayal and whispers of war, she was finished.

She fully pulled away from her mother and stood up, straightening her dress, “this past moon i have felt more seen and known by Jace than anyone my whole life. My whole life I have detested company, and chatter, and have at any and all attempts avoided events. and now i find the one person i do not detest, and would falsely attend any event he wishes me to, someone i enjoy spending time with, my future husband! You wish to ruin it for me! Do you not want me to be happy?” She nearly yelled, her face turning from the sweet, shy and docile face it had always been had turned angry “you clearly do not wish for Heleana to have happiness, as clear with her marriage to Aegon at three and ten!” She was steaming, years of biting her younger so as to not gain attention, or do more talking that’s necessary, bitterness flowed through her.

”dearest i-“ her mother started, moving towards and reaching for her to pull her in a hug, only to be met by an instant rejection.

”I simply wish for whatever war you are making up in your head to end, so you can finally allow me the happiness I deserve!” And with that she walked about, only to be met with Jace and Rhaenyra's face as she walked out.

Jace chased after her, leaving his mother left to deal with Alicent.

”y/n” he called out, “y/n stop!”

“No, I can't,” she said as she continued down the halls, though she did slow down, allowing Jace a chance to catch up with her. “if i stop walking I’ll march right back in there and apologies!” she proclaimed.

“I'm sure you won't, you did the right thing '' Jace spoke, still trying to catch up with her.

“i have bite my tongue my whole life, never expressing my thoughts or opinions, and today i did!” she spoke, as she realised she was walking towards Jace’s chambers. She didn’t even think of where she was going, having stormed out of her own rooms, it seemed that in this past month his room had become a comfort to her.

Finally catching up in time to open the door to his rooms. “y/n you don’t have to explain, you didn’t do anything, you just spoke up for yourself and…for me” y/n swear she saw him blush.

“i know it was hard for you, that talking and expressing yourself is something your struggle with…but you stood up for yourself it’s nothing you have to feel bad about it’s something you should be proud of” he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips “and in all honestly i was rather impressed”

“you where?” she blushed, stepping one closer.

he nodded, “ you know me and my mother were coming to your chambers to discuss the wedding” he said wrapping his arm around her waist. a movement and touch she had now grown to love. “ We are to be married in a fortnight” his face moved closer to her.

“We are?” she questioned, her breathing getting heavier.

he nodded, there faces so close they were sharing their breaths “yes, soon you will be my wife, and i your husband and your mothers silly little rants will have no sway any longer”

she gasped, he leant forward and finally kissed her, it was soft and sweet, leaving them both a blushing mess.

The next two weeks moved slowly, filled with wedding planning.

Her relationship with her mother was strained, finding most of the planning to be with her eldest sister Rhaenrya and even Heleana more so than her own mother. And the few times she was there she simply sent a glare in their direction and took at every laugh and smile.

She found that she rather enjoyed her sister's company, the two having a few similar interests. Rhaenyra seemed kind and cared for her children a great deal and as a result she did with her too.

She knew her mother cared, but watching her mother interact with Rhaenyra highlighted that most of her mothers objections were actually ones of jealousy. She was Jealous of Rhaenyra and more so of Daemon, as he received more glares the more he and Rhaenrya showed affection to one another. So much jealousy that she swear she saw some longing in her gaze whenever she stared at Rhaenrya.

The day before her wedding she finally found herself alone with her mother though from the way her mother barged into her room she knew the conversation the pair were about to have would not be a pleasant one.

“sit down dearest” she spoke as she herself got comfortable. Doing as her mother bid, she sat beside her. Her mother quickly took her hand in hers, tight enough that even if she were to recoil it would not break her free.

“When I had this. Conversation with your sister, she already knew some of what was to come, with her Marrying Aegon, and will he loved to taunt her with the gory details for moons before their wedding” Alicent took a deep breath. “On the morrow you will be wed, and with that shall come some expectations”

she nodded, not quite sure what her mother meant. “not only will you be taking on some of my duties but there is also the expectation of an heir…” she looked at her then, expecting her to interrupt in some way. She stayed quiet, she knew she would have to have children but how the act itself was done was peculiar to her.

Her mother shifted uncomfortably, “once you are wed the marriage must be consummated” she awkwardly grabbed at her hands, “it will be uncomfortable but some pleasure can be found in the act” she sent her mother peculiar look, causing her mother to cough uncomfortably and once again move to explain “your husband will…insert himself in you, and spill his seed, allowing a babe to be made, though it can take some time so i shall prey you are lucky and conceive soon…”

she looked down quietly “mother “she spoke slowly, “Aegon is my brother, though he and i aren’t close i have…walked in on him numerous times, time enough to know what sex is”

Her mother was shocked, looking down and shaking her head, “your brother has no shame-“

“mother, i also have a septa who taught me” she laughed, Heleana only did not know because she was young mother, i am aware, in fact me and-“ she cut herself off not wanting her mother to become more shocked at hearing how her and Jace have already talked of the wedding night.

They were both inexperienced, though Jace had been taken to brothels by Daemon he had never actually done anything, wanting to save himself for his wife. A fact she was most happy about.

She loved Jace, she realised. He was everything she did not expect, though he was chatty and loud, he was also kind and sweet, a perfect gentleman. She and him had more in common than not, they both loved to read though Jace found little time to do so, so was more than happy to listen to her ramble on and on about the last book she read. She had shown him how to paint and draw, a skill he, though terrible at, found rather enjoyable, especially when he got the flicking paint at her. She herself had even found she loved a few of his hobbies or well if you can call sword fighting a hobby.

she remembered the morning, it was still early in their courtship, the first week in. She and Jace had yet to sleep and yet they could see dawn breaking through the windows in his room. They had spent the whole day and night talking, getting to know each other. “it’s dawn already?” Jace sighed as he moved from his spot on the sofa. she sighed from the movement, missing his warmth.

“it’s seems so” she hummed

“it’ll be time for training soon.” he spoke, not necessarily to her.

“Do you train alone?”

“Here I do, On Dragonstone Daemon is typically dragging me and Luke out of bed the second the sun begins to rise but here he has no desire to train” he looked at her, “why don’t you join me?” he asked.

“i have never even touched a sword” she exclaimed, as if the idea was a mad one.

He grinned “exactly, it’ll be most entertaining!”

she laughed, “fine, but you must promise to show me your high Valyrian!” y/n declared, he had been complaining how bad his Valyrian was but refused to show her, despite her being fluent and offering to teach him.

He sighed, then a big grin filled his face “very well, let us teach one another, i teach you in swordsmanship and you teach me high Valyrian”

she laughed “very well! though i make no promises to these swordplay lessons!”

They met again in the training yard, both in training clothes. She had borrowed hers from Jace and she was sure he was trying to sabotage her. His clothes hung from her in an almost comical way, he himself had laughed as she nearly tripped netting the training yard.

“you look beautiful” he said though his eyes were full of mirth as he took in the way his clothes hung from her.

“Perhaps you could have given me some of Luke's clothes instead” she sighed, a frown forming her face as she hung her arm up to show just how big his sleeves were compared to her arms.

“Next time we shall!” he declared, stopping his laughter to then pass her a wooden sword “for now it’s fine.”

The sword was heavier than she was expecting, as shown by how she nearly dropped it.

“do you do any exercise?” he asked, seeing her near miss with the sword.

she scoffed “no, do i look like someone who does?” she asked bewildered.

he laughed “no i suppose not, and knowing you it doesn't surprise me that you do not” he took the sword off her “perhaps we should start with some exercise”

“what?” she asked, she hated doing anything that could be remotely referred to as exercise.

“Don’t worry, just some light exercise, to build stamina” he looked at her then, something passing through his eyes. something she had yet to see.

He had made her run ten laps, stretch in more easily than she knew possible, And then finally let her hold the sword. “You know I was hoping you wouldn’t take this so seriously�� she sighed, hitting the dummy repeatedly. Jace corrects her technique with each hit. “really?”

“Of course not, when you said it I had hoped we would just be jesting around” she sighed dramatically, before moving to place the sword down on the rack. “I think that this ‘lesson’ is over.” she started to walk away only for Jace to grab her arm.

“Wait!” he said, pulling her back to him gently. “Are you really not enjoying yourself?” he asked with a sad smile on his face.

y/n sighed, before a small smile graced her face “no, but perhaps hearing you speak some high Valyrian may make it more joyous.” she spoke, though she was enjoying herself a little, though it would definitely not be a hobby she would be taking up, though watching him practice his swordsmanship, that is a hobby she will be taking up.

“I- really?” he asked, his face unsure, “nyk-e don’t ȳdragon ziree sȳr”

She laughed, his accent and pronunciation were all over the place, perhaps she was better at swordsmanship after one lesson that he was at high Valyrian after years of lessons, “it’s gaoman daor ȳdragon ziry sȳrī”

I do not speak it well

“See what I mean!” he exclaimed, as she continued to laugh.

“oh Jace, gaomagon daor worry nyke sure kesā jiōragon sȳrkta isse daor jēda” she taunted.

do not worry I’m sure you will get better in no time

“I have no idea what you just said '' he sighed, shaking his head, “but at least i can hold a sword properly” he taunted back to her.

“Hey! It's my first lesson, have you been learning high Valyrian for how long?” she questioned, a gleam in her eyes.

“hāre jēdri” he replied, a smile as he realised he had pronounced it correctly

Three years

She hummed, beginning to circle him, “hāre jēdri? funny seeing hae heleanas riñar ȳdragon sȳrkta eglie valyrain than ao se issi balrey hāre pōntāla”

three years? Funny seeing as Heleanas children speak better high Valyrian than you and they are balrey three themselves

“I- well, stop taunting me!” he protested.

“Only if we can stop this, will I have reached my yearly exercise limit.. For the year!” she joked, dramatically falling, conveniently into his arms.

“Fine, fine!” he said, “but you can not mention to anyone about my high Valyrian.” he brought her back to her feet.

“Oh please who would i tell? se lo nyke gōntan, skorkydoso would ao sesīr gīmigon?” she laughed, starting to walk away, only to have Jace chase her back all the way back to her chambers.

and if i did, how would you even know?

It was safe to say she never participated in his training again, but on the odd days she was awake when he went, she found she did in fact enjoy watching him.

It took a few attempts before they found a hobby they both loved equally. Painting. She had been painting for as long as she can remember, Jace however had taken it up about two weeks ago, but seemed to love it as much as she.

“Let's paint each other!” Jace declared, as he saw the paints y/n left out.

She hesitated, “have you ever painted before?”

“No, but how hard could it be?” She laughed at that, but said nothing.

They sat opposite each other, their art facing only themselves. They gave themselves an hour before they would show each other what they had painted.

Jace went first. He seemed so proud of himself. To give him credit it was fairly good, though it looked nothing like her.

“It's good!” she exclaimed, “i like it” she reached forward to grab it “i shall have it framed” she hummed. Jace smiled widely at that.

“Show me yours!” he asked, or more declared as he turned the canvas around himself.

His face was shocked, mouth wide, “i- wow” he was at a loss of words. “This is incredible!” he exclaimed, his face one of awe, “and you said mine was good!, you were lying!”

She laughed, “no-no it is, i promise” i grabbed his art then, comparing the two, before throwing his on the floor, “oh please, mine is rubbish, yours is wow! I think it shall become my official portrait!” he exclaimed standing up and walking to the doors with it.

“woah ! where are you going?” she asked standing up to follow him.

“Too show everyone” he stated as if it was the obvious answer.

He showed it to everyone he saw, a blushing y/n on his tail.

“Mother.” she spoke, back once more in the present, “i trust him, more than anyone and anything” at that her mother relaxed, and for the first time in what felt like a long time, she saw a real smile gracing her mothers face.

The day of the wedding came, she had expected nerves and jitters, and yet all she felt was contentment. She knew she was lucky, most brides barely knew their husband before they wed them, and she knew Jace and he knew her. She knew his quirks, his hobbies, and he knew hers. They were polar opposites, and yet they fit so perfectly together. She was excited for this day, and as was he.

The dress she wore was her mothers dress. A white dress with sleeves coming down to her elbow before dropping down to the length of her dress showing a deep red. On her shoulder sat two dragons, dragons she had changed to represent Vermax and Gaelithox. The dragons were joined together and connected in an intricate pattern on her bodice. She wore no jewellery, only a small head piece, woven into the braids on her hair.

“You look beautiful” her mother declared. “Are you ready?”

y/n nodded, taking one final look at herself in the mirror, one last time before leaving her room.

The wedding was a blur, it went by so fast and before she knew it, Jace and her were declaring their love and sealing it with a kiss. They exchanged giddy smiles as they left the

sept, their hands never wavering from their grip. The night celebrations went by quickly. The only time they never once left each others sides. It was the first event y/n ever truly enjoyed, they had danced four times that night, feasted to their heart's content, and enjoyed the first few hours of being newlyweds.

Then it was time for the bedding. She had never been more grateful than when Jace shouted at the men attempting to drag her away, and he himself picking her up and taking her to their now shared chambers.

“I am sorry for that.” he spoke, taking her hand in his, “I had made it clear we would not have a bedding, but -”

“Aegon had other plans' ' she interrupted, “do not worry, it's just who he is' ' she laughed.

For the first time in weeks the silence between them was awkward. Both knowing what was to come, but not how to start.

After a few moments Jace finally moved forward, he reached for her slowly, one had wrapping around her waist, the other reaching up to caress her face. They both looked at each other shyly, before Jace moved in closer, his lips capturing hers. It was soft and slow.

His lips still joined with hers they moved further into the room, his hand moving from her waist to her back, reaching and slowly unlacing the binds of her bodice.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked, breaking away from her lips.

She nodded, “yes.” As she slowly reached to pull of her dress, leaving her in just her chemise.

Jace groaned his pants tightening, he reached forward once again capturing her lips in his.

They slowly moved towards the bed, her hands reaching towards his clothes, slowly taking them off and leaving him in his small clothes.

There lips breaking apart, they both took each other in, before finally lying on the bed. Jace continued to kiss her slowly moving from her lips to her neck, his hands reaching down to her should and moving the straps of her chemise down, revealing her breasts.

“gods” he groaned, “you’re so beautiful” he said as he moved down to kiss her breasts. Slowly moving down her body, removing her chemise as he did, leaving her bare beneath him.

He was level with her heat, he had heard of kissing there and the thought of tasting her in such a way made a groan escape him. “Can I?” he begged, unsure of what he meant y/n nodded.

Jace dived in, giving a cautious lick through her folds, he groaned at the taste and quickly went back licking and tasting like a starved man. She herself was moaning in pleasure, her hands clutching the back of his neck, tightening when he finally found her bud.

Releasing the reaction form touching the small bud of nerves, he made sure to focus his efforts on it, sucking it into his mouth, and bringing his fingers up to her entrance, beginning to circle her juices and slowly tease his way into her.

Tensing at the feeling of the intrusion, she gripped further onto him, and started to move away. With his spare hand he gripped onto her and pulled her back to him. His finger now pully in he instead started to focus his intentions of pumping them in and out of her. Causing her to start moaning once again in pleasure, even more so when his second and third finger entered her. Soon she was reaching her peak.

He slowly backed away from her, pulling down his small clothes to revel his hard, thick long length.

“gods” they both groaned at the sight of the others naked body. He slowly crawled back onto the bed, his body covering hers. He once again took her lips with his, in a passionate and heated kiss, his legs slowly parted hers as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Are you sure?” he once again asked, caressing her face.

She nodded, covering the hand on her face with her own and reaching forward to kiss him again, “yes” she consented.

He nodded, kissing her once more as he slowly entered her.

She groaned at the stretch, feeling at slight sting as he slowly entered her. Her face contorted in quick discomfort, but quickly faded as he settled himself fully inside her, allowing her time to adjust.

“gods, you feel amazing” he groaned, moving his head to her neck. “can I move?” he groaned, near begged.

“yes” she said, and he wasted no time, slowly pumping in and out of her. Slowly the discomfort faded and all she could find was pure pleasure.

Moving in and out of her, Jace was moaning, kissing her neck with each thrust, he had never felt such pleasure as he did in this moment.

Slowly picking up the pace, he soon found that sweet spot inside her, that turned her into a moaning mess. Wrapping her arms around his neck she was soon grinding her hips against his, chasing her peak, and he was soon reaching one of his own, spilling his seed inside of her.

Slowly pulling from her, her moved to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her towards him, he kissed her slowly and whispered, “I love you”. In that moment she felt what could only be described as solace.

That night, they did not sleep a wink, nor would they in the moons that followed. Their marriage was a harmonious one, one of love and joy. And when the king finally passed, and Rhaenrya was queen, there was no division of factions of house Targaryen, she liked to think that their marriage has helped branch the units, and make them once more a family.

Even more so when nine moons after their wedding she birthed their first child.

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violetrainbow412-blog · 4 months ago

Text

From hate to love… or something like that

Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader

word count: 15.7k (sorrrryyyy)

warnings: arranged marriage, hate-to-love, mentions of rape, mentions of incest, mentions of suicidal thoughts, drinking alcohol, mommy issues, daddy issues, mentions of sex without love, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), porn with plot (but something cheap, tbh) and I probably forgot something but I think that makes it clear that this shit is not for minors, so MINORS DNI :)

A/N: I started this since the second season premiere started so if you find any canon-like scenes I completely promise it wasn't intentional. I also want to make it clear that you are responsible for what you read and if you don't like something please just let it go, that would be very kind of you!

And this doesn't make me team green at all, I'm a defender of the rightful queen to the death… it's just that her brother is too sexy to ignore 🫦

Enjoy!

taglist (who I thought might be interested): @barcelonaloverf1life @ilovequeen978

FIRST ACT: HATE

Finding a wife for Prince Aegon II was probably one of the most difficult tasks Alicent Hightower had to face.

The engagement with his sister Helaena had been broken after a more tempting offer for the princess, which would get them a permanent alliance with the Lannister house that they couldn’t refuse. Viserys himself had agreed to accept and the queen consort had no choice but to give her little daughter in marriage to a blonde lord. The problem was that her son was left without a fiancée.

Aemond didn't worry her, after all he was growing up quite quickly and she knew that he was more inclined to become a warrior than to fulfill his marital responsibilities. But Aegon, however, was a lost cause.

It was no secret that Alicent had always felt disappointed in her eldest son. He was careless, lazy, and a hopeless alcoholic, qualities that couldn’t be celebrated at all. Now that her beloved father had returned, the queen didn’t hesitate to consult him on the matter, hoping that the man had a solution for the problem that afflicted her, and together they analyzed what was the best option to unite the king's first-born son. Especially after, years ago, Rhaenyra and Daemon got married and moved to Dragonstone indefinitely.

“It must be someone we completely trust, someone who cannot dare to hurt us because they know that their blood is linked to ours.”

The Arryns were loyal to the future queen Rhaenyra and some of the houses south of Vale were too. The Westerlands was the richest section of the Seven Kingdoms and was already secured, so it seemed prudent to the king's hand to go for the next widest section: The Reach. The most formidable options within this area were the Hightower and the Tyrell. Obviously taking the first option would be a waste since the members of that house would support Aegon without complaint due to their kinship, so the decision was made with the direct heir of Highgarden.

King Viserys agreed to the idea without putting up many obstacles, since poppy milk clouded his judgment most of the time and also the affairs of his first son had never interested him much.

The union was sealed as soon as the deal was offered to Lyonel Tyrell, who was extremely happy to be able to assure his family a future with said marriage. It was thus that he gave you, his only daughter, to Prince Aegon II Targaryen.

And the second the boy saw you, he absolutely hated you.

He had come to the idea (very unpleasant, by the way) of marrying his younger sister and now that his mother was forcing him to marry a complete stranger, he couldn't be angrier. In a short time he would turn twenty and it seemed pathetic to him that at that point he would have to offer shows like those before the kingdom. Because the wedding wasn’t simple, of course, but thousands and thousands of guests were present at the banquet that Alicent forced the king to prepare, claiming by saying that he had done the same for Princess Rhaenyra's wedding.

“It is a pleasure to finally see each other, your grace. They have told me a lot about you”

You had said those precise words the first time you had met, when his mother organized a walk so that you could 'get to know each other better', although supervised by her own eyes that were behind you, making sure that her son didn’t commit any indecency. But no matter how sweetly you smiled and spoke them, Aegon could sense that you were lying.

There was hatred in your eyes and a clear resentment towards the life from which you were torn, as if it weren’t an honor to have the opportunity to marry the prince of the seven kingdoms. Your hypocritical words represented an insult to the boy and that is why he decided from the first moment that he would hate you deeply.

With your mere existence you would have deprived him of his freedom, his entertainment, his youth. He would be tied to you for future occasions, he would have to take you to all the events, secure your food, your clothes. share the same roof and pretend to be nice to you in the eyes of others. And, besides, he could have thought of a lot of candidates better than you, physically speaking. Your beauty was quite ordinary for his taste, as if he were looking at any painting; cheap and repetitive.

“I regret to admit that I am not so fortunate, Lady Tyrell. But I am happy for the union of our houses” he lied, in the same way that you had done.

And it was obvious that this didn’t go unnoticed by you, that you had the same critical eye as your recent fiancé but that you sought to maintain composure in the presence of your future mother-in-law.

On the wedding day Aegon had a good time only because he was able to drown himself in monumental quantities of liquor and because he was able to eat as much as he wanted of the exquisite banquet. He didn't even pay a bit of attention to how you looked in the wedding dress that the royal seamstresses had been in charge of making in record time, because when the time came he flattered you superficially and then ignored the matter. The ceremony kiss was the first you shared, and it was so fleeting and awkward that the prince felt disappointed. On the wedding night he was so drunk that he didn't even look at you.

You knew that the unfortunate day would come when you would have to carnally please the young man and the simple thought of being defiled in this way caused you terror and nausea in equal parts.

It was a stranger whom you had married, of whom the only thing you knew was his noble title and name.

In the days following your marriage, unfortunately or fortunately, Aegon didn’t even speak to you. You didn't have to share a room, so it was easier for him to completely ignore you while he went about his ways.

You had to admit that the only good thing about having taken this trip was the beautiful landscapes that King's Landing offered you. Your room had a direct view of Blackwater Bay and you spent several days looking out the window at the beautiful sea. Sometimes you could watch Prince Aemond ride his dragon, and honestly, the size of the beast scared you a little. You hadn't had the chance to observe Aegon in Sunfyre yet but if he was as impressive as Vhagar, then he would be quite a sight.

A week passed, then another and another where you were nothing more than a guest in the palace. You didn't talk to anyone, you ate dinner alone, you barely saw the outside of the castle. Sometimes you went to the Sept, pretending to pray, but really just killing the endless boring hours of the day. You were somewhat lucky if you found Helaena, the most sensible and calm within the royal family, because you had pleasant conversations with her. When you met the queen it was a little more difficult, because she asked you endless questions in which you had to fake the answers. How could you be fulfilling your parenting responsibilities if the capricious prince wouldn't deign to lay a finger on you?

After a month, Alicent seemed to take matters into her own hands and forced her eldest son to take you to sleep in the same room as him. However, Aegon seemed to want to blame you for something you hadn't chosen. He never spoke to you and every time you went to bed, he would stand with his back to you as far away as possible. And as if that weren’t enough, he had explicitly ordered his guards not to allow you to leave the room unless it was in his company. It was his way of punishing you, of getting even for the complaints of his mother and grandfather regarding his lack of interest in marriage.

“My mother wants us to attend a dinner tonight” you were so unaccustomed to hearing his voice addressing you that it took you a second to process what he was telling you “I will talk to the maids to bring you a suitable dress.”

You didn't know what to say. You didn't want to go to that dinner, nor did you want to be with him, or wear one of those tight, annoying dresses. Aegon, noticing your silence, deigned to look at you and in your eyes he could see the aversion you felt for him. It was something difficult to mask and he had seen it on so many faces that it was nothing new.

“As you wish, prince.”

A bitter laugh came from your husband's throat.

“Don't be a hypocrite, for God's sake. I know you hate me as much as I hate you. Save appearances for guests, not in the chambers."

You wouldn’t have had the courage to admit out loud what his majesty had said, but you didn’t dare to contradict him either. You had to play the role of a self-sacrificing and suitable wife for the man if you wanted to keep your honor, but above all your head.

You tried, with all your might, to see some quality in Aegon that you liked so that you could treat him in a better way, which always resulted in something useless. Perhaps if he had been nicer to you, you could have known how to forgive his faults, but even that wasn’t granted to you.

The dinner was mostly family-oriented, with the guest of honor being from House Baratheon whose purpose was to discuss some political matters with the king and queen. Due to his health, Viserys didn’t usually leave his room more than necessary, however, that night the occasion warranted it.

“Lady Tyrell, how is your stay in King's Landing?”

The king had a reputation for being gentle with his guests and was the first person to ask you a personal question, so the smile you showed him was genuine.

“Very pleasant, your grace. The servants treat me as well as possible and I must admit that the views from my room are beautiful. Your dragon is impressive, Prince Aemond, by the way.”

The boy, who wasn't all that expressive, just looked at you for a moment and tilted his head down slightly.

“I'm glad you like it, princess.”

"And my son? How is our Aegon treating you?”

That question was more complicated to answer, since it required expressing a lie. Everyone present focused their attention on you, except your husband who had been staring into nothingness for a long time.

“Very well, my king. He’s a good husband and I am happy to have been able to unite our houses.”

The aforementioned snorted, incredulous at what you were saying at the table, and took a long drink from his glass of wine.

“And I hope very soon you can give us strong and beautiful heirs.”

Although that was intended as a compliment, you felt the weight of that responsibility pressing down on you again.

“I wish the same. It will be an honor to serve the crown and bear the progeny of a house as formidable as yours."

The queen was pleased with your answer and for a moment felt sorry for you. She knew her son well, so deep down she knew that it wasn’t a gift from the gods to be married to him. The rest of the table looked at you curiously, wondering if you were serious, trying to be ironic, or just trying to play the good girl role.

Aegon, as expected, became intoxicated during dinner and when Queen Alicent announced that she was going to retire to sleep you thought it prudent to do the same. Your husband, however, had other wishes.

“Stay here,” he asked, his voice serious.

When he was drunk he looked you up and down, probably evaluating how worth it would be to decide to strip you naked and fuck you once and for all. Your body in the dress you were wearing looked better with a few drinks on him.

“I think it would be best to retire, my husband. This way you can stay with the men to chat and… drink”

“But I want you to stay here to keep me company,” he insisted, holding your wrist tightly “Or don't you want to please your prince?”

It wasn’t a loving request, but one for control. He wanted to have you there only to demonstrate his power over you, without paying attention to you or talking; only as an ornament.

“Aegon, enough,” Alicent interrupted, observing the scene that had begun to unfold. “Daughter, let's go to sleep. “I will accompany you”

“Fine, do whatever you want,” he spat contemptuously, abruptly releasing the wrist that was holding you. There was hatred in his eyes, but also pride.

The queen said goodbye to everyone present and then offered you her hand to take you away from there. You spent most of the way in silence, walking through the long, wide corridors of the fortress followed only by the faithful footsteps of Ser Criston Cole.

“You must be patient with him” he began to say “He is a particular man and sometimes… difficult, but I know that with your docile character you will be able to deal with his temperament.”

What did she know about your character? She didn't know you at all.

“So it shall be, Queen Alicent.”

“I understand what you are going through, dear. We both come from the same lands to endure the difficult task of accompanying a monarch. But it is our duty to carry it out with all the honor and temper worthy of our homes. Of course, I can trust that as a woman you will be able to help him fulfill another of the most important marital commitments, such as having children, to maintain the lineage and blood. For a virgin like you, Aegon may be rough, but... patience and resilience are among the best virtues. A woman in royalty must endure these things to give the best to the people.”

You had never wanted to be a princess. And just when you thought the queen was showing you compassion, you realized that she was only looking out for her interests and those of her family.

"Thanks for the advice. I'll keep it in mind"

She smiled and immediately left a kiss on your forehead, which could have been taken as a maternal kiss but which you didn't like at all. The longer you can postpone suffering, the better. If Aegon didn't even want to look at you, it was perfect.

That night, as soon as you touched the mattress and the silk sheets that decorated it, you began to cry until you fell asleep.

SECOND ACT: CONTROL

Time passed again and although the punishment of not leaving your room was not revoked, you found multiple activities with which to entertain yourself in the prince's absence. You filled your mornings and afternoons with reading, writing, knitting and embroidering. The nights were even more boring because most of the time your husband wasn't there either.

Rumors that you hadn’t yet consummated the marriage had spread through the halls of the palace and soon the smallfolk would murmur too. After all, the people couldn’t entertain themselves with anything more than the gossip and the plays that were going on in the poor neighborhoods, making fun of royal affairs.

You no longer even had the energy to deny those accusations and Aegon had given you the perfect opportunity by throwing you out of his room and refusing to leave the four walls of yours: if you didn't leave there, there was no way anyone would question you. And since you didn't have family inside the Keep, you didn't have any visitors either.

One night, however, your husband surprised you by entering your room. It had been days since you two had seen each other and his staggering around the room warned you that he was drunk again. You often wondered how he resisted drinking so much and the long-term effects it would have on his health, but right now your mind could only focus on the fear of what he might want in that state.

“Good night, dear,” he drawled, sounding as sarcastic as possible.

You were in your nightgown and you were carrying in your hand an old book that you had been reading and that you threw on the nightstand as soon as you saw him approaching you. You didn't have time to say or do anything else when he had already approached you in giant steps to grab you by the back of your neck and start kissing you. He was abrupt, careless, with his mouth smelling of wine and tasting even worse. You wanted to cry from helplessness.

“It's what everyone wants, isn't it?” he murmured, separating himself from you, but still holding you by the hair at the back of your neck. “A marriage arranged in a couple of days to form alliances. And that's it, my life was ruined thanks to my father wanting your stupid castle to expand his domain."

The truth is that couldn't be further from the truth. Viserys’s ambition had never been that, as he had been so little involved in the process that he simply didn’t care who his children were or were not married to. Except for Rhaenyra, of course.

Aegon continued:

"I didn’t want this. I didn't want to marry you, or anyone..."

“And you think I do?” you confronted him.

You were tired of the insult, the humiliation and him ignoring you as if you were worthless; even if that was what a husband did. And the most likely thing was that your words would be forgotten due to alcohol or that they would put an end to the wait for your suffering to begin and Aegon decided to take you once and for all.

“You have nothing to lose, prince,” you continued. “You get drunk as much as you want, you run away from your responsibilities and walk everywhere when I have to stay locked up here all day just because you want me to. I have to endure the suspicious looks of everyone because I still don't have an heir in the womb while you go and fuck your whores."

“I'm the prince and I fuck whoever I want, did you hear me?” he hissed. The grip on your hair had already begun to become painful and a few tears slipped down your cheeks “And I stop fucking whoever I want too. I'm not going to please anyone by getting you pregnant. There they will see if they come and force me to put my cock in you”

“Do you doubt that, your grace?” you exclaimed bitterly “Doubts that will force us to conceive?”

“So that's what you want? Do you want me to do it?”

“I want to go home. That is what I want. But my father used me as a bargaining chip and that's why I can't do anything."

“I'm sorry it was like that. If I had chosen my wife, I would surely have chosen someone prettier and more educated than you, but I can't do much either."

Once again, the man pushed you until your lips joined his and the same discomfort settled in you. He didn't kiss you with love, but with fury and violence to the point that you had to push him away when he bit you so hard that a trickle of blood began to come out of your lower lip. Aegon was also stained by it and with an acidic smile he ran the tip of his tongue all over his mouth to remove any traces.

Looking at you he didn't look happy, but he didn't look angry either. He just seemed fed up.

Everyone knew, or suspected, that the prince was very capable of taking sexual advantage of any woman. He had done it before with maids and prostitutes and had slept peacefully throughout that time. However, there was something about you that encouraged him not to. He didn't even think it was something about you specifically but about the situation, because he wanted to do the opposite of what he was ordered: if everyone ordered him to take you to have an heir, it automatically became an unpleasant act and at the same time that he refused.

He was hurt, not because of you but because of years and years of abuse and neglect. He didn't really know you at all, he only knew what you represented.

You were just the unlucky one who had married him.

"I hate you. I hate that you are my wife and you are not worthy of me even touching you” he snapped with disdain. You were still fighting to keep the tears inside your eyes and his vision had also blurred slightly “I wish I had never met you.”

“The feeling is mutual, your grace,” you expressed, your voice breaking. If it was an offense to the crown, you wouldn't even care anymore and if he killed you right there you wouldn't regret it too much either.

Aegon looked at you one last time before staggering back out the door without another word, closing it behind him with a loud gesture and leaving you alone in the room. The reality that you had escaped, once again, from being raped by the man fell on you like a bucket of cold water and your knees weakened until you fell to the floor.

You were hurt, tired, and defeated by the stress of the situation and the fear that had washed over you the entire time. Luckily he was gone, otherwise you didn't know if you would have endured what he had to do to you. It was better to have him busy in a brothel than to have to endure him in your bed.

You wished you could talk to someone and cry on a loved one’s shoulder, only to realize a second later that that was impossible. Aegon was your new family, now you belonged to the Targaryens and you would have to do as they wished.

Anger completely overwhelmed you to the point where you stood up from your seat and began throwing pieces of glassware all over the room, in a violent outburst at what had just happened and the way you felt. None of the guards outside your door dared to come in to check on you and soon enough you fell back to the ground, exhausted from the effort.

As you cried, perhaps for the umpteenth time since you had been married, you thought about how you would never be able to love Prince Aegon. Not even if you tried.

THIRD ACT: PAIN

After months, the inevitable arrived. The truth was that the first time you felt sorrow and anger, but the following times it became more tolerable. Not because it was better, but because you began to get used to it. Aegon didn't change his attitude towards you one bit. You indeed spent more time together, although that didn’t mean that you got along better or that you had begun to have more sympathy for each other.

The only advantage was that you had started to be friends with some people in the palace. Your sister-in-law, to begin with, as well as some of the maids who were in charge of looking after you, as they turned out to be your only company during those days. Those distractions were more than enough for you, considering the situation you were in, and they kept you sane as time went by.

Almost like a punishment from heaven, it seemed that you weren’t pregnant yet, since your biological processes seemed to continue working to the letter. That meant that, unfortunately, you would have to keep trying; when Aegon was lost enough to forget who you were and you had to stand still as a statue to let him loom over you.

You often liked to imagine what your life would have been like if you had stayed in Highgarden. Nobody knew it yet, but there you had found your first love and although it never went beyond a few kisses, you treasured the memory with particular affection. You had always wanted to marry a sweet man who loved and respected you, who would give you your place as a wife and adore you day and night; someone with whom you could feel protected, cared for, but above all happy. You thought, naively, that that boy you had met and who was nothing more than a commoner could have given you that life, but all those possibilities were nothing more than fantasies in which you tried to lock yourself in to feel less miserable with your unpleasant reality.

One night Helaena had invited you to a modest dinner in her company that you couldn't refuse, since none of your husbands were present and some time with friends could clear your mind. You didn't even know where the prince was, although it was expected that he was spending some time in the town with his friends.

“Sometimes I feel sad about our situation,” said the blonde. You were in the privacy of her chambers, not even with the maids present, so confessions like that were allowed “But I am happy that you are my friend, something that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise.”

“I'm glad to talk to you too,” you smiled sincerely. “You're the best thing I've found around here.”

“My brothers aren't that bad, they're just… well, we've had a hard life. And that's why they behave like that."

“I think there is no justification for being a…” idiot, you wanted to say, but you had to remember that you were in the presence of the princess, “a person who is rude to others. But I guess that happens with royalty, right? They do what they want without consequences”

"I guess so. Kings, princes, the heirs, lords, dukes…”

“Okay, I get it,” you laughed bitterly “It's probably a masculine quality.”

You never thought your sister-in-law would have that kind of humor and to be honest, most of the time she was a comic relief for the situations you two were going through. Sometimes her prophecies scared you, especially the way she phrased them, but you wanted to think that her premonitions would never affect you directly.

When you finally got tired of chatting and the food was finished, you decided to return to your room, so you could have a peaceful night's rest. It was raining outside and thunder echoed in the distance, making the atmosphere slightly gloomy, but at the same time cooling every corner of King's landing.

The novelty of your position was no longer important enough to require you to be escorted by guards twenty-four hours a day, so you were able to slowly walk through all the corridors that led to your sanctuary. It was modest but cute, although not on the level of Aegon’s.

A man was guarding the door and you bowed your head to him to let you pass, which he did without any opposition. Once inside you got rid of your shoes and unbuttoned your corset, not caring that the room was almost in darkness; only the moonlight illuminated from the window. You took a few steps forward and squealed when you discovered that there was another person in the room, sitting at the small table with a drink in his hand. You would have started screaming for help if you hadn't noticed that said intruder had silver hair falling like a curtain over his face.

"Your grace?" you asked cautiously.

It isn’t usual for Aegon to drink in your room, as he preferred other places with more interesting company, and when you didn’t receive an answer you approached slowly. You thought that at best he had simply fallen asleep and at worst he would be dead.

At first his long, wavy hair covered your view of his face, but when he noticed your presence he raised his head and then you could see him. His features became clearer as lightning illuminated him from the outside and for a second you were horrified.

His cheek was red and a trickle of blood was dripping from his nose, however, what surprised you the most was seeing his eyes completely swollen.

“For the seven, I… I'll go call a maester”

“Don't even think about it,” he exclaimed hoarsely, seeing that you were already rushing towards the door.

Your husband didn't sound like his usual angry tone, but rather he seemed... hurt.

You thought for a second about what the appropriate reaction to the situation was. You couldn't leave the room because, in addition to the guards murmuring, it would be impolite to leave him in that state; also, where would you go? If you ignored him, he would probably take it as an insult and he had already made it clear that he didn't want to see someone who could take care of those injuries.

You hated him, it was true, but you weren't an insensitive monster either.

"Who did this to you?"

Aegon was surprised by how soft, even kind, your question sounded and the intoxication gave him some courage to answer.

“My mother and my grandfather. Mostly my mother, my grandfather rather dedicated his efforts to reminding me how useless I am”

You didn't know what to say. You never believed that the queen would be capable of hitting one of her sons like that. You didn't believe it from any mother, actually.

With some trepidation you took one of the chairs and placed it in front of him, expecting him to immediately push you away or ask you to get out of his sight. However, the prince didn't seem to have enough energy to do any of those things.

He had a lost look on his face and tears began to run down his face.

“Nothing… nothing I do pleases her. Neither to her, nor to my grandfather. All the time they are pressuring me, demanding me, yelling at me. Apparently Otto still hopes that my father will name me king, but I've never wanted that. They blame me for drinking all the time and how do they expect them not to? My father cares so little about me and my mother hates me. All his life he has hated me. She does it, my brothers… and so do you. My own wife hates me. Everyone… everyone who knows me does it”

You were silent for a moment.

There were mixed feelings inside you, because you couldn't forget the mistreatment that the man had given you during those months, nor the way he used you for his pleasure. He was right when he said you hated him. However, there was a compassionate part of you, deep down, that felt sorry for the man's state.

“And sometimes I just want to be dead. I just wish all the shit would go away and drowning in alcohol and dying would take away Alicent's problem and allow her to focus her attention on something better”

His gaze lifted and he looked at you with crystallized eyes.

“Maybe you should poison me one day. So your suffering would also end”

“Your highness, I cannot do that”

“But would you like it? Do you hate me enough to wish me dead?”

“Of course not,” you said quickly.

"Liar. You lie like everyone else. You want me dead”

You knew that saying something negative at that moment, in the state he was in, could result in him making some incoherence that you would be blamed for the next morning. So it was best to act cautiously.

“I don't think anyone wants that”

“My mother does. My father, Rhaenyra does it, and so does her stupid new husband…”

“Your grace…” you interrupted him harshly. Listening to him sink into his self-indulgence was too much to bear “You better go to sleep, don't you think? Now you're not thinking clearly, you'll feel better in the morning."

But Aegon seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, oblivious to anything you had to say to him.

“I guess I just wish someone wouldn't completely detest my existence, you know?”

Aegon had done terrible things to you, of course, but seeing him at that moment made you wonder if all of this was the product of poor parenting and psychological abuse that had been perpetuated for twenty long years. You couldn't say your father loved you, not after what he had done, but at least he hadn't constantly hurt you as the man in front of you had. You knew better than anyone that hate had to be healed with empathy and for a brief moment you felt soft for him.

Once Aegon was a small child, without sins, without accumulated hatred, without evil... and apparently that frightened child hadn’t been completely buried, because it was him who cried inconsolably and saw death as a viable alternative to end that suffering. However, there is no redemption without guilt, right? You don't get to heaven without first repenting.

You stayed silent for a long time, listening to him sob, and when you gathered the courage you spoke:

“Prince, can I be honest with you?”

You had spoken in a low and benevolent voice, while you slid from your chair until you were kneeling in front of him. The boy didn't even want to take advantage of that position for a sexual act, he was simply too tired and drained to think. You placed your hands on his knees and seeing that he nodded, you continued:

“You say you wish someone wouldn't hate you, but have you ever made an effort to do so? Or have you even wondered why people feel that way about you?”

“It's something natural for them”

“I didn't feel it,” you said, honestly. You hated the idea of getting married out of obligation, but if he had been different from the beginning maybe your feelings for him would be too “And you made me feel it. With your contempt, your humiliations, your punishments…”

“If everyone thinks you're a monster, what's the point of contradicting them?”

“And then you prefer to agree with them?”

You were probably taking too many liberties with the prince, but you would never have a chance to talk to him like that again. He was vulnerable and therefore less defensive than normal.

“Every person is responsible for their actions,” you continued. “You can't change how the queen or king feels about you, but you can choose to offer something better to others. If it’s your desire that people not hate you, that won’t happen overnight just because you tell it to. It takes time, effort and above all it requires kindness. If you live regretting the concept that people have of you, without doing anything to change it, then you will live a lifetime of dissatisfaction. If you seriously want someone to feel happy about your existence then pursue that goal, don’t expect it to be granted to you as a divine work.”

A deeper cry began to well up from the man and you almost thought he would lean down for your hug. Still, he didn't.

“I don't know how to be someone else. I have always been this”

“Not always, that's for sure. Water that stagnates rots and becomes a swamp. The one that runs, on the other hand, becomes a river and flows into the ocean.”

You raised the handkerchief you always carried and, in an act of kindness that was also intended to be an offering of peace, you gently wiped the tears and dried blood from his face. Aegon squirmed as he had never experienced that kind of care.

“You just have to ask yourself: what do you choose to be?”

For an endless moment he watched you. His judgment was clouded by drunkenness, but he wondered if he wasn't hallucinating and you were simply the voice of his conscience telling him something he had never wanted to accept.

It was easier to blame others for his mistakes, to justify himself by saying that everything about him was his mother's fault and that if he behaved the way he did it was only a defense mechanism. Aegon had never thought about how his treatment of women was a direct consequence of Alicent's upbringing: if his own mother had hurt him, why wouldn't other women do the same to him? And since he was convinced that they were all going to do it, he preferred to turn them into objects that he could use for his benefit.

He was so drunk and so exhausted from all the crying he had shed that he simply pushed your hand away from his face and stood up from the chair, without saying a word. You, now standing, saw him begin to undress and the first thing you thought was that he would seek to heal his sorrows by having sex with you. However, he only got rid of the essentials and then lay on his stomach on the bed. Without any choice, you took off your clothes for the day, put on a nightgown and also lay down on the mattress to sleep.

You were sure that the next day Aegon wouldn’t remember anything and you weighed the possibility of the whole story repeating itself, in an endless and painful loop for the two of you. And if you were right, it would be a shame if you had to live like this for the rest of your days.

FOURTH ACT: REDEMPTION

“Do you know where Meryna is?” you asked one of the maids who had come in to change your bedding.

“No, your grace”

“I'm starting to get hungry and she still hasn't brought my breakfast,” you exclaimed sadly.

You had woken up a while ago and had gotten dressed to go for a walk after eating, to see if this would cheer you up a little. It had been a few days since Aegon had opened up in the privacy of your room and after that you had barely seen him, much less spoken to him. You believed that everything was due to a matter of pride or even shame for what you had witnessed and you simply didn’t give it importance, because you knew that eventually he would approach you again. You just had to wait for him to want to do it.

Almost as if by summons, the black-haired girl appeared through the door, looking agitated and embarrassed by the delay. Furthermore, she came empty-handed.

"Princess…"

“Didn't you bring breakfast?” you asked, still sounding cordial but slightly surprised.

“I'm very sorry, it's just that Prince Aegon asked me to bring the food to the royal dining room. He is waiting for you there, he told me to come and get you.”

He hadn’t mentioned requiring your presence for any breakfast and, according to you, there were no guests in the palace to accompany. The two women noticed your dismay and Meryna stood waiting for a response.

“Did he tell you why?”

“No, your grace”

"Good. Then tell him I'll be there in a moment."

You only took a few minutes to change your dress, one more suitable for being in the presence of the prince and in case there was a guest you didn't know about. There were no guards at your door so you were able to walk to the dining room by yourself and were surprised to see that only your husband was at the table. He had an expression that you interpreted as a mix of impatience and nerves.

“Oh, you finally arrived. Sit down. You, bring the princess something to drink,” he ordered a maid. He used to call you that in the presence of guests, but it was rare for him to have that courtesy when alone.

“Are we waiting for someone?”

"No. I just thought you might want to have breakfast together.”

You were already sitting next to him, and for a second you watched him with a frown. Had he hit his head somewhere or why was he acting so strange?

“Do you prefer juice or wine, your highness?

"Juice"

“And bring her some strawberries,” Aegon exclaimed.

There was something about the situation that scared you, because you imagined that he wouldn't be treating you so kindly without wanting something in return. But you were already his wife and he did whatever he wanted with you, what more could he want from you?

You looked him up and down, as if searching for some sign, but he looked completely normal. He was wearing one of those full black robes he was used to, with a golden chain with emeralds decorating the hem of his neck and a belt accentuating his figure. The dark circles in his eyes were pronounced, as always, but the look was not that of someone angry; you would even say that he looked somewhat passive, even sleepy.

While you were thinking about all that, you remembered the last conversation you had had with him. You feared that madness had finally exploded in your husband and the food you were about to eat was poisoned, as he had suggested at the time. Perhaps out of courtesy he was waiting for you to take the first bite and, trying to control the trembling in your hands, you took a portion of the cold cuts on your plate to put it in your mouth. Luckily the food didn't taste different and after seeing that the man ate it with the utmost calmness, you assumed that it didn't contain any poison either.

There was freshly baked bread, jam, some cheeses, the aforementioned cold cuts, a variety of fruits, scrambled eggs with fresh herbs and chives, as well as some stuffed buns for dessert. It was a mini banquet and as you ate it you couldn't help but wonder why this show of kindness was due.

Aegon didn't seem to have any intention of talking and you didn't try to force him, not wanting to either. The atmosphere was one of peace and tranquility, one you had not experienced since your wedding day until now, and it was a very different but strangely pleasant feeling.

It was just a couple sharing breakfast time, but for two people who come from such a broken home it felt like a totally new experience.

You continued in silence until most of the things served were finished, leaving only what wasn’t to your palate's liking or that your body was simply no longer able to ingest.

“Do you need anything else, your majesty?”

“Clear this table, we won't eat anymore,” he said to the maid, nonchalantly pointing to the leftovers you had left. Then he looked at you “Satisfied?”

"I am. Everything was delicious”

“I want us to do the same tomorrow. I will send a maid for you, so get ready soon,” he said decisively.

Then he got up from his chair, stretched a little, and left the room without saying anything else to you.

You didn't see your husband the rest of the day, but the next morning he kept his promise without fail. Although the breakfast menu was different the routine was the same and again it made you wonder what the reason for it was.

The next day he also requested your presence for breakfast and you concluded that he intended to make it a habit. For the rest of the morning you were supposed to dedicate yourself to your activities, but after a week of following that routine Aegon informed you that he had other plans for you.

“I want you to come with me for a walk.”

"To the exterior?"

"Yeah. I have training with Ser Criston but I don't wish to attend, so you will be my excuse. I'll tell him that the princess wanted to go for a walk and that I couldn't let her go alone."

He was telling you that lie almost like a childish prank and you would swear he was about to smile.

“Huh, okay. If you want it, we will”

You were still confused by his actions, because in all the time you had been there it was the first time he treated you decently. You didn't know if he was still drinking in large quantities, but at least when he went to sleep he no longer reeked of liquor in the same way. And all that week he hadn't forced you to have sex with him.

What had motivated the prince to change his way of behaving towards you?

"Do you want to go to the beach? I will order a couple of horses to be saddled for us” he exclaimed when you had already left the dining room.

You couldn't refuse to go to the bay, because in your entire life you had never seen the ocean and your curiosity was greater than any other feeling. Besides, you loved horses, and being with them might even make you feel better.

Aegon did as he told you and soon enough you were in the stable. He had ordered a beautiful white mare for you, with a silver mane the color of your husband's hair and a formidable build.

You approached to pet the animal, carefully, and tensed completely when you felt another body behind yours. Until that moment you hadn't realized how warm your husband was.

“She's pretty, right?”

His voice sounded at your ear level, as he had also reached out to touch Frostfire’s hair.

"She is"

“I guess you know how to ride,” he muttered under his breath and you let out an offended sigh.

“Of course I do. Highgarden is the heart of the chivalry of the seven kingdoms”

After saying that you turned your head just a little and met his gaze, indigo eyes with hints of lilac looking at you carefully. You could feel his breath against yours and at that closeness your cheeks had already turned red involuntarily.

He separated from you and then went to choose his horse, a black thoroughbred with beautiful braids, to get on it and ask the guards to open the door for you. You almost managed to sneak away, but Ser Criston stopped the two of you just before you could do so, claiming that he had a scheduled practice with the prince.

“I'm taking my wife to Blackwater, she hasn't had a chance to visit since her arrival.”

“But your grace, your father…”

“We will continue with training later, Ser Criston,” he said firmly.

“Will you go to Blackwater without an escort?”

“I will”

"That's impossible"

“Don't worry, I don't want to be accompanied. Just rest for now.”

“But you are the prince.”

"Exactly. I am the prince and I want my orders to be respected."

The boy was a smug son of a bitch when he put his mind to it, just like now. The man had no choice but to obey the words and then the two of you were able to leave. You could get there on foot, but Aegon had felt like riding and had wanted an alternative to quickly escape if something went wrong.

You walked along a path that still belonged to the Red Keep grounds, so there was no great danger of being attacked along the way, and you soon reached the bay. It was even more beautiful up close and as soon as you got off the mare you forgot any courtesy towards your husband, as you rushed towards the shore to watch the waves crash. Your pumps and dress were soaked when the water reached your calves, but it didn't bother you too much because you were happy for the reason.

“Have you never been to the ocean?”

“I'm afraid not, your grace. There was never any business that required me to be on the coast of The Reach and I have always lived surrounded by hills and forests. I had seen some rivers, but…”

Before you could continue your story you staggered because of a wave and to avoid falling you tried to hold on to whatever was within reach, which turned out to be the man next to you. He supported you from the elbows with his strong arms.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he laughed. For the first time in your presence, he had laughed “But we should get away from the shore. I wouldn't want to take you back to the castle all soaked”

You heeded the boy's advice and, still leaning on him, walked towards the sand. The sky was slightly cloudy, so the weather was perfect for walking around without any discomfort.

“I've never visited Highgarden, is it as impressive as rumored?” he asked, as he began to walk in the opposite direction of the Red Keep.

Although you never believed that the prince would be interested in such things, you began to talk to him about your hometown with particular emotion. You told him about his surroundings, about the castle and you also told in greater detail the gardens that once belonged to you and were full of golden roses, as was the emblem of your house.

You were surprised by how attentive the boy was to everything you had to say to him and for the first time since your arrival, you didn't feel like a stranger in your own skin. Talking about your home was like remembering a part of yourself, as if you were showing him your insides through stories of the beautiful hills where you had ridden so many times.

“Everything sounds wonderful,” he concluded. The sea breeze had already ruffled both of your hair and he took advantage of this to brush a strand out of your face “Someday I should go visit it”

“Yes, maybe you would like that” you exclaimed smiling. You had come too far and it was time to walk back, towards where you had left Frostfire and Moonshadow tied up “Your grace, may I ask you a question?”

"Yeah"

You opened your mouth to ask him why he was doing all that and why he had suddenly started showing so much interest in you. You wanted to know the reason for his unexpected kindness and his abstinence from activities that weren’t very pleasant for you. But before you could speak, you took a moment to observe him. His skin looked paler in the light outside and his silver hair waved in the wind, however, what caught your attention the most was the serene expression on his face.

Although you couldn't say that you knew Aegon, the time you had lived together had shown you that his personality was extremely challenging. If you pointed out that he was being nicer to you and questioned him about it, he would most likely revert to his old behavior towards you simply on a whim. So no, you couldn't ask him about anything or you'd ruin the minuscule part of a good relationship you had managed to build.

“I was thinking... Do you think we can one day bring golden roses to the royal gardens? Green and gold are part of your emblem too and that would beautify the place. I could take care of them, if you want.”

“That's a good idea,” he exclaimed happily. You had already turned around to return and you calculated that it must be after noon “I will order them to be brought in as soon as possible, in the hope that the hot weather at King's landing will not ruin them”

“I hope not,” you said, although a little less enthusiastic than before.

You had been lost in thought after the appearance of that question that you did not verbalize and suddenly Aegon feared that he had made some mistake. You walked a few meters in silence, until this state was unbearable for his majesty and he stopped you by holding your shoulders. You were about to ask what had happened when he pulled you against his lips, stealing your breath. It was still a rough kiss, but this time less desperate than before. His hands went down to your waist and held you to his body until there wasn’t even a centimeter of distance left, with your belly touching the heat of his stomach.

“Still no signs that you are pregnant?”

You thought that, perhaps, your answer was in that question and that the only thing the man wanted was to convince you to hurry up the matter of producing an heir.

“I'm sorry to say no. It's very unfortunate."

“We'll have to keep trying,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as if he wanted to downplay the matter “Mother insists on it.”

“Has your mother always been like this to you?”

"What are you talking about?"

“It's just… she seems to have everything under control all the time.”

You couldn't be further from the truth and rather than describing it that way Aegon would have said that she was controlling. She wanted to have things under control, but she couldn't and as an example was the eldest prince himself, whom she had never been able to persuade to behave the way he did.

“Well, she is the queen. I guess that's how she must be” he exclaimed without much encouragement. He was still holding you by the waist and was surprised by how intimate that position was. “But we better get back, they must be wondering where we are”

“Maybe they even think I ran away, taking advantage of the fact that you weren't there to watch me,” you joked.

"Would you do it?"

"Do what?"

“Run away”

You looked at the man, incredulous, because it was stupid to think that if you were planning to run away you would just tell him like that. That was the characteristic of it, that it was surprising and hidden.

“Why would I do, your grace?”

“Maybe because I'm a bad husband,” he said quietly. You weren't understanding the game Aegon was playing and it was driving you crazy.

“I wouldn't dare do it. I have nowhere to go and I know I couldn't even get through the doors without your majesty noticing,” you replied.

The prince didn’t want pragmatic reasons like that, but rather his question was more aimed at whether it was your will to abandon him.

Against all odds a couple of raindrops began to fall and very soon a storm had already brewed over your head. It was useless to run, but you did it anyway and Aegon held your hand to prevent either of you from falling due to a trip. Somewhere along the way you lost one of your pumps and at this you began to laugh and he, infected by your joy, did the same. It amused you greatly to think of the face the queen would make when she saw you enter the castle, with her eldest son soaked from head to toe and your clothing incomplete. But you also laughed from the joy of feeling so alive in that moment. You felt like a girl playing in the rain and despite the coldness of the falling water, you felt a certain warmth traveling from the tips of your fingers to your chest.

Although he was sure that you were an excellent rider, your husband insisted on taking you on his own horse to avoid any accidents and you agreed without complaint. His body sheltered you all the way to the Red Keep and once there, under the roof, he helped you down from the chair with extreme care. You didn't think he was that strong until you felt him grab your waist and place you on the floor effortlessly.

“Ask the maids to prepare a bath for you, or you will catch a cold,” he said, putting on your back a cloak he had found hanging on one of the walls.

There was the hint of a smile on his face and seeing him behave like this towards you made you feel weird. You almost felt like he was trying to be affectionate with you, even though he wasn't quite succeeding.

“You should do the same,” you exclaimed softly.

Motivated by the kind moment you had shared, you reached out to brush away the wet hair that had stuck to his face and he shivered at your touch. It was the first time you touched him that way, out of conviction and with care.

“Your majesty, Lord Hand is looking for you. He says he needs to talk to you urgently."

“My grandfather,” he sighed at you, as if wanting to apologize for the words the guard behind you had just said.

He gave the man Moonshadow's reins and then explained that someone had to go get the horse you had left in the bay, so you assumed your presence there was no longer necessary. You were about to leave when he stopped you, grabbing your arm somewhat roughly and looking at you with a feeling that you couldn't decipher.

“I'll go to your room tonight,” he informed.

You felt a little disappointed by the reality of having to share a bed with him, after so long without having done so, but you were grateful that he was at least warning you.

You nodded your goodbyes and he did the same, forming an unspoken agreement. You thought maybe that was why he had been polite to you, so he could get back under your bed sheets. But there was no point in doing it, he wasn't courting you to win your hand, but you were already his wife and he had made it very clear that he could do with you whatever he wanted.

Still a little confused, you were escorted to your bedroom, where you hoped that a tub with hot water and essences would be enough to appease all those doubts that were growing in you.

FIFTH ACT: LOVE

At some point Aegon would get tired of all this, you were sure. But while that moment arrived, you were thoroughly enjoying all kinds of attention you received from your husband. He kept his promise to bring golden roses for the gardens and although the queen wasn’t very happy, in the end they adorned some of the busiest sections of the place. You took that as an act of good faith, so you thought that maybe the thought of repaying him for some of the decency he was showing you wouldn't kill you.

There wasn’t a single breakfast that you skipped, except when the prince was required for political matters or had to travel. You were too proud to admit that you had begun to genuinely enjoy his company, as you still had some distrust due to how temperamental the man was. It wasn't all sunshine and flowers, as the young man still had some outbursts that made you fear him and reminded you that this was who you were really talking to.

His drinking habits hadn’t changed much, since although he was able to handle it during the first week after that period, it was inevitable that he would go back to his old ways and drink an entire jug of wine in a couple of minutes. With sex it was the same, because he continued to fuck you without signs of care and regularly when he was lost in drink. It amused you to think that perhaps that was the reason why you still didn't carry a child in your womb; that he was too drunk when you tried to be of any use.

However, as your relationship strengthened you could notice slight (you almost swore they were imaginary) changes when having sex. He was no longer as rough towards your body as before and tried to thrust into you a little slower, as if he wanted to lengthen the moment and not just unload into you and sleep like a baby after that. Maybe it was just that the drink made him lethargic, but he had even started seeking your lips in the middle of the act or kissing everything within reach of the skin on your neck. You didn't intend to spend much time analyzing his behavior because for you it already represented a victory that he had stopped hurting you after every time you had sex and, honestly, you didn't want to inquire about it. Once again you thought it was more prudent not to question the prince and simply let him continue behaving that way.

Until one night, things looked different for you.

When you heard your husband open the door, quite late at night, and saw him approach your bed, you knew that the same dynamic of nighttime visits would take place. Aegon, already hard as a rock, would kiss you a few times, undress, order you to undress, and then position on top of you to satisfy himself. Needless to say, under the confidence that being in the dark gave you and your husband's lack of interest, you looked away or concentrated on something else while your martyrdom was carried out. He would finish, lie naked next to you, and then sleep soundly with no memory the next morning of what had happened.

Aegon called your name, just to check that you were awake or otherwise wake you up, and you were surprised to hear that his voice sounded quite normal. He wasn't slurring his words like usual.

"Your grace?" you called back, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could look at him.

He did what was expected and as soon as he was far enough away, he started kissing you. You must have known something was wrong from that first moment, when he grabbed your cheek with his wide hand and offered you the most passionate kiss you had ever had. It is reiterated that Aegon was always somewhat careless in intimacy, but this first contact hadn’t felt as impatient as others, but rather was something more careful and planned.

Only one other man had kissed you like that in your life and although the feeling brewing in your chest must have been pleasant, the truth was that it wasn't. You had endured too much abuse from the white-haired man so your body didn't know how to react otherwise. That's why when he continued kissing you for longer than usual and then laid you down meekly, you couldn't do anything but tense uncomfortably.

You were only in your nightgown so there wasn't much difficulty in sliding the straps to the side, almost exposing your tits. Suddenly Aegon lowered his kisses to your neck, where his stubble scratched your skin. Knowing that he would be busy in that area, you turned your head away to focus your gaze on a tapestry on the wall. However, you got a surprise when you felt the prince move away from you and then a bigger one when he took your face between his fingers, placing his index finger and thumb on each of your cheeks to force you to look at him. At first you thought there was anger in his eyes, but after looking at them for a second more you concluded that the feeling was more like that of someone insulted. And why? you asked yourself. What had you done that had offended the prince?

“Why are you looking away?”

His question had a certain aggressive tone, but, at the same time, he sounded hurt. With that you confirmed that he wasn’t drunk or that, if he was, he had drunk just enough to make him feel slightly dizzy. You couldn't tell the way your eyes looked at him, but Aegon interpreted your expression as one of disdain.

Unbeknownst to you, he had his own whirlwind of feelings inside him, one that was driving him crazy and causing him to look you up and down while still holding you. He’d never been like this on another night, so you were at the mercy of knowing how good or bad that would turn out.

Suddenly he seemed upset, you would even say disgusted, and surprisingly stood up from his position. The cold air hit you where he had been before and you sat on the bed to watch him, completely confused by the way he was behaving.

"What's going on…?"

“You don't want this,” he spoke firmly. It was obvious that you didn't want to and you wondered how he had barely realized it. “Not like that… I… no. Not this way"

His babbling confused you even more and when you saw him walk away with exaggerated steps until he left through the door, you couldn't help but feel totally amazed.

What was the reason for what your husband had just done?

The feeling of being abandoned was more hopeless than having him fuck you would have been, and for a moment you even felt ashamed. Maybe he didn't like you anymore or he would just go and cure his frustration in the bed of a woman you didn't know.

He had watched you very strangely and the whole scene wasn't like him. You even pinched yourself just to check that it wasn't some strange dream, getting a moan of pain in response to your question. You thought that perhaps you were acting impulsively, but barely a minute later you put on a green robe over your nightgown and headed towards the door, still not knowing exactly what you were going to do.

“Where are you going, your grace?” the guard on duty asked, putting his voluptuous body in your way.

“Prince Aegon, do you know where he went?”

“In that direction, your majesty. But I'm afraid I must recommend that you return to your room, it is dangerous to walk around the palace at this time."

“But I wish to see my husband,” you said firmly.

The man let out a sigh and then slid to the side of the hallway, leaving you a clear path. Even so, when you started walking you felt his footsteps following you because he probably wanted to make sure that something didn't happen to you. You walked for a while, but you knew it was useless when all you found were locked doors that you couldn't knock on and that you couldn't open either. If Aegon was in any of those rooms, you wouldn't know it. Defeated, you returned to your room and, as expected, found it empty again.

The next morning there wasn’t a single word about that event, but it was present in your mind throughout the day. You had already lived with him enough to realize that something was bothering him, however, upon noticing that he was less talkative during your usual breakfast, you decided to give him time.

You were about to leave the table when he stopped you, asking you to take your seat again and looking at you seriously.

“I have to travel for a couple of weeks,” he informed you. You were surprised to hear that he almost sounded sad “The king is required on some business and since my father can no longer travel, I will have to do it.”

“I hope the entire journey is favorable and the visit profitable, your grace,” you exclaimed cordially. However, your husband didn’t seem pleased with it.

One of his hands slid to hold yours, with a strength that surprised you. There was urgency in his grip, like he needed to hold on to something.

“Is that all you have to say?”

A couple of wrinkles appeared on your brow, as you clearly weren't understanding what he expected of you. Accompanying him would be reckless and you didn't know if he wanted you to keep him there at King's landing.

During those last months something had changed in the man's face, because those eyes surrounded by purple marks no longer saw you with the same aversion as the first time. And it disheartened Aegon that his attempts to please you were yielding no apparent fruit. He was giving you time, effort, and being kind to you like you had said was necessary, but he still couldn't help but feel that you still considered him a stranger.

He had been patient because he thought that, as time went by, you would begin to seek him out or not shy away from his touch. Aegon cared a lot about the physical, so every time he sneaked into your room he did so with the hope that you would welcome him with open arms and give yourself to him willingly. Countless nights he waited in his own room for you to show up to keep him warm and love him throughout the night. But it never happened and a part of him couldn't blame you either.

However, he was already tired of it. He wanted to make it clear to you that he not only wanted to give, but also receive. But forcing you to do anything would ruin everything; you had to want it.

“Have I said something that offended you, prince?”

“I just thought you would say you were going to miss me”

A laugh echoed in your throat at those words and for a second Aegon felt hurt, like you were mocking you. He was going to let go of your hand and walk away, insulted, but you squeezed his hand harder as a sign that you didn't want him to do that.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you. I just didn't think that if I harbored feelings of that kind they would be of interest to your majesty."

“Do you miss me when you don't see me?” he asked now, allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of you “Or are you glad to have me away?”

You didn't know what those direct questions were about, because you didn't expect that a man like him would be plagued by uncertainty about knowing the answers.

“Not at all. I will always be willing to be with you whenever you want.”

“And you want to be with me?” he insisted.

“I think that what I want is not important”

“But I'm trying to make it so. I thought I was making it clear enough,”

He was angry, but not for the reasons you might think. It frustrated him that he was trying hard to improve and that your eyes continued to see him like that first time. Too many people were already observing him like that and he thought that, perhaps, since you were the most recent to do it, you could also be the first in whom he could manage to modify it.

You, however, were still too confused by his signs. Sometimes his attitude didn’t coincide with the intentions he had, since antipathy was often the only emotion with which he allowed himself to express and feel, accustomed to what he received during all his years of life.

All those months of effort were a direct product of the talk you had had with him, of that moment of weakness in which, instead of ignoring him like everyone else did, you had stayed with him. Aegon was aware that the treatment towards you was sometimes inhumane and he couldn’t explain how despite this you had wiped away his tears with such care, expressing nothing more than an act of integrity. Sometimes he even just imposed things on you to see if he could push you to the limit and he was surprised to see that you endured everything with honor and decency. You were good, something he could never be.

He didn't want to hear anything more and then let go of your hand, feeling rejected again.

"Majesty…"

"It's getting late. I have to go feed Sunfyre so he can endure the trip.”

“Will you travel by dragon?”

“How else would a Targaryen do it?” expressed obviously.

You were silent for a moment and then he stood up, ready to fulfill his obligations. In the afternoon he had already left, without emotional goodbyes or anything like that.

You had those weeks alone to reflect on everything that had been happening. You firmly believed that a cruel and evil person would always be that way, even if they hid it, because humans can’t change from one day to the next. Still, you had to allow Aegon the courtesy of admitting that he wasn't being a complete jerk lately.

You tried to think of any unpleasant moments with him during that week and although you found a couple, you realized that they had all been because of minor arguments or simply that one of the two of you had woken up in a bad mood. The hatred for the boy had been so ingrained in you that now it was difficult to decipher how much of it was due to things that were really happening and how much of it was a resentment carried from the past, at the beginning of that harmful relationship that existed between you.

He was no longer a mean man to you, he just sometimes had those logical slips for anyone who has never been taught to love. He didn't know how to care for you, how to talk to you, or even how to touch you properly. He had always existed alone and could still be seen reflected in his incessant desire for you to be the one to look for him, in his longing to know that you would miss him during his absence and in wanting you to look forward to his return. He wanted you to pay attention to him. He needed it.

One fine afternoon the vision of Sunfyre finally appeared in the bright blue of the sky, with you watching from the huge window of your room. He looked majestic, flying deftly and confidently with the rider above him grinning from ear to ear. Aegon had once confessed to you that he loved to fly on his dragon and he spoke about it with a devotion that completely touched you.

You thought about going to look for him, grateful that he had returned, but you were afraid that your presence would bother him or, in that case, that there would be murmurs about you. You didn't want to seem like a desperate wife so you thought it would be best to look for him at dinner time and in case he wanted to see you before, you stayed in your room all afternoon.

Once night fell, you put on one of your prettiest dresses and went to the royal dining room hoping to find him there, but it was in vain. Luckily one of the cooks had seen him and he told you that he was in his room, since he had ordered that something to eat and drink be brought there.

Determined, you made your way there and took a moment before entering. You hoped that the time away from King's landing had not hardened your lover's character, because it would be a shame to waste what you had built for some time and have to start over, or not do it at all, which would be even worse. Since there were no guards at the door, you were able to push the wood without any hindrance and then you saw it.

Aegon was sitting near the fireplace, his back to the entrance and leaning against a table that had a jug that you assumed was full (or not so full anymore) of wine. When he heard your footsteps he turned slightly and when he saw you, he kept a serene expression on his face.

“Hey,” he exclaimed quietly.

“The maids informed me that you were here” you explained and he nodded.

You noticed that he no longer wore his black doublet with the Targaryen emblem, he only kept the breeches of the same color and a mint-colored linen shirt that left part of his chest exposed. His white hair had some natural curls that fell delicately over her shoulders.

“Yeah. I don't feel like seeing my parents.”

“I understand” you assumed that if he hadn't wanted to see you he wouldn't have hesitated to tell you, so you approached him. Undecided whether you should greet him with a kiss or just stay to the side, you placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned a little to look at him “How was the trip?”

“It was good,” he responded with reluctance. “But my body feels completely crushed”

“Hm. It shows” you whispered, amused. The tension in his body was palpable and that's why you began to massage him, pressing hard just where he needed it. Aegon, feeling your skilled hands doing this, let out a satisfied grunt and leaned his head back with his eyes closed.

Doing that wasn’t something you had planned when you went there, it had only happened out of the heat of the moment and the reality that your husband's body was taking its toll on him for the hours he had spent riding his dragon.

With each passing second Aegon's burden felt lighter and lighter, wondering where you had learned those movements and how your hands were strong enough to exert the right pressure.

"Feel better?" you asked kindly and he nodded immediately, eyes still closed.

Suddenly one of your hands slid lower, towards his chest, to caress him. This time your fingers were light as feathers, sending an electrical current up and down the man's spine under your touch. No whore had ever touched him like that, with that force and at the same time so delicately.

But it was clear that you were not a whore. You were his wife.

“Come here,” he said firmly, reaching out to wrap his hand around your wrist and pulling you directly into his lap.

It was extremely painful to admit that he had missed you. He was physically frustrated because he hadn't dared to take any other woman in your absence. It had been a long time since he had frequented pleasure houses, since his appetite was awakened only by being with you.

What the hell had you done to him?

“The cook told me that you ordered some food, but I only see wine around here. Have you already eaten anything?”

“Mhmm,” he said absently. Your legs dangled to the side and one of his hands came up to your face, brushing your loose hair away from it. The other one surrounded you until it planted itself firmly on your belly. “Still no signs of anything?”

“Honestly, I don't know. The maesters can’t say with certainty… I am sorry”

“What if you are sterile?” the mere possibility of it made you nervous and you wondered what your fate would be if that was the case. Aegon didn't look so worried “What a disappointment for Alicent.”

You didn't know how to take that, because on the one hand it could be that your husband was amused by the irony of the matter and on the other hand it was that he would never have wanted to have children with you. For a moment you thought that the tranquility of the environment had been fragmented by this, but it turned out that the man couldn't care less. He was completely focused on your lips, almost as if hypnotized.

“I trust that is not the case, your grace. Just… it was a streak of bad luck.”

“I guess so,” he murmured nonchalantly. He was still watching your mouth when you spoke “But now I don’t care much about that.”

He carefully grabbed you by the back of your neck and brought you closer to shorten the distance, giving you an eager kiss that took your breath away. The hand that was on your waist pulled you closer to his body, leaving practically no separation between you and him. You could feel the desperation on his lips and in his touch, like he was eager to make you his. And at the same time, he was kissing you like he had never done before: it was sweet, yearning, passionate. You felt like he really wanted you.

He separated from you so you could breathe and, as best he could, he maneuvered to lift your body until he placed you on the table, where it was easier for him to place himself in the space between your legs. You instinctively placed your hands around his neck and wrapped one of your legs around his body.

“I longed for you. These weeks” you finally confessed. You heard him, and felt him, breathe more erratically at this because your words had fallen on him with the force of an axe.

From there, Aegon acted solely driven by the feeling of knowing that you had wanted to see him as much as he had wanted to see you.

His entire body leaned over you to kiss you, with the same urgency as at the beginning. While he did that he grabbed you by the lower back, pulling you until your body collided with his crotch which, if it wasn't already hard, wouldn't take long.

His kisses were clumsy due to urgency and after a while he moved away from your mouth to descend to your neck. Sometimes he left a kiss or two, at most, but this time he seemed to want to take his time. His tongue ran all over your skin, freshly washed, and he spread caresses without restraint. Every place the dragon's lips touched lit up with fire and his hips grinding against you weren't doing much for the blush on your cheeks. Inevitably you began to sigh from so many stimuli, right at the level of his ear, which only motivated him to continue.

As best he could he pulled the laces on the back of your dress and it didn't take long to get rid of the restraints. He slid one of your sleeves over your shoulder to begin kissing that section, the same way he had done with your neck. An indiscreet moan escaped you as your husband bit into your soft flesh and you could feel him smile against your skin.

“You're mine, right?” he sighed brokenly. You had tilted your head back to give him more space and he took the opportunity to lower the entire torso of your dress. “Only mine…”

With the same devotion he took care of your breasts and you couldn't do anything but continue alternating between sighs and some muffled moans. You could feel how he longed for you, eager to be able to kiss every inch of your skin even if it took him the entire night. Suddenly your body had become a temple, an object worthy of worship. The prince continued to distribute kisses that each time descended towards your belly, until with one hand he violently threw everything that was on the table and you ended up lying completely on it. Then he walked away.

You were about to ask what had happened when he took care of taking off your ballerina flats and throwing them somewhere far away in the room, only to stretch your leg up to the height of his torso to start kissing it. No one, not even him, had ever done that to you, so it was natural for you to be dismayed. His kisses moved quickly up your thigh and once he did that, he dropped to his knees in front of you. The skirt of your dress blocked your view and when you tried to get up something made you scream. Aegon had bitten into the tender flesh of your thighs, quite close to your crotch and with more force than he had hit your shoulder. You could only imagine his face when he carefully licked the mark he had surely left on you, once again making your chest exhale a moan.

What he did next and the sensation it caused, you could never have even imagined. That mouth, which most of the time was used for ironic puns and sloppy kisses, was now taking expert care of all of your pussy. Aegon was devouring you completely, touching just where it was necessary to make you squirm on the table. He wasn't careful at all; it was a touch hungry and extremely dirty.

You wanted to hold on as much as you could to keep yourself attached to reality, but it was difficult with your husband eating you like that. One of his arms wrapped around your leg and placed it over his shoulder, probably to give him better access. You had never moaned like that in his presence and it only made him harder and harder beneath the tight fabric of his breeches.

The pleasure was barely getting to your head when he stopped and a dissatisfied grunt escaped you shamelessly. Aegon laughed unabashedly at this, pleased at the control he had gained over you, and then went up again to kiss you hungrily. You couldn't do anything but welcome his salty lips and you moaned against him as he leaned against your body and you could feel his crotch, not knowing if it was your own wetness or his that was present.

He held you from behind and, without stopping kissing you, carried you until he placed you on the bed. You considered it somewhat unfair that your husband already had you trembling beneath him and still hadn't taken off a single piece of clothing, but your complaints were silenced when he hurriedly pulled his shirt over his head and took off his breeches in record time. In the same way, he pulled your dress towards your legs so that a second later it ended up on the floor, along with everything else.

He knelt down on the mattress and spread your legs roughly, lining himself up with your entrance. He began to rub the tip of his member up and down your already wet center and that did nothing but drive you crazy again.

When a delicate, pleading, «please» escaped your swollen lips, Aegon knew it was more stimulating to have you begging for him than to worry about only satisfying himself.

He played with you for a while longer, smiling from ear to ear at the sight of his delicate, pretty wife vibrating from having him close, until he finally plunged into you. For the first time there was enough wetness in you that the stroke felt satisfying rather than painful and both of you let out a delicious moan.

He set the pace, slow at first, but after a while his movements became more desperate. He wanted to get to the core of you, he wanted to fill you completely so you knew that only he could make you feel that way. When his body began to ache he leaned towards you, resting each of his arms on the side of your head and looking directly at you. You had stopped looking away from him, now you were looking at him with your mouth open with pleasure, your eyes watery and your pupils dilated on your completely flushed cheeks.

“Aegon,” you sobbed pathetically, clouded by everything you were experiencing and proving that it wasn't long before you reached your orgasm.

You had never called him by his name. You always referred to him as «your grace», «prince» or «husband», at best. So hearing his name come out of your lips like that, under those circumstances, was too much for him to bear.

Knowing that he couldn't last much longer, one of his hands moved down to rest his thumb on your clit and once there he began to make erratic circles. You closed your eyes, completely seized by pleasure and a couple more thrusts were enough to make you lose the battle. Hearing your whimpers, combined with the way your walls squeezed him, was enough to make him cum too. With trembling legs you felt the warm liquid filling you and, for the first time, it was comforting.

When Aegon plopped down next to you, you immediately missed his body warmth. Both of you were breathing heavily, trying to catch the breath that the orgasm had taken from you. You could clearly feel your heartbeat bouncing off your bare chest and the stinging sensation coming from your crotch and running through your entire body was something you could get used to. Your hair had stuck to your face from the sweat and not to mention your lips, which you felt were burning from your husband's attention.

Aegon had already had many orgasms in his life so this time he decided to turn his gaze a little to see you enjoying yours. The mere idea that he was responsible for your condition made him completely shake.

“You look beautiful,” he blurted out suddenly. You thought he had heard wrong because of the rush, but from the way he was smiling at you, you highly doubted it. “Just like that”

“Like what?”

“Freshly fucked. Well fucked” he corrected himself.

A laugh bubbled up from within you and you blushed even more, if that was possible, perhaps from the nerves and elation of what had just happened. The man stood up a little from his seat and leaned down to kiss you, although this time he did it with a calm and affection that you never thought you would see in him. It was just that he couldn't deny it anymore; from that moment on he would become an open book for you, where you could see all his feelings, desires and fears.

“I don't know why you're doing this,” you suddenly murmured and Aegon pulled away enough to look at you “And I don't know why you've been acting like this these past few months. But I like it. I think it's a good time for you to know."

“You said I could choose who I am,” he said meekly. One of his hands grabbed your chin and stole another fleeting kiss from you. “I haven't forgotten, every word is present in my head. It's just... sometimes it's hard. And I thought I would have a better chance with you, even with the things I did to you when we got married”

You smiled at him and were happy to know that the change in his behavior was because of the talk you once had with him. If he continued like this, ignoring the demons inside him and trying to be better, then your marriage had a chance to become more than just a condemnation.

Driven by the pleasant feeling growing in your chest you reached out towards him to reward him with a kiss. The man's breath hitched when you pushed him to the side and reversed roles, now you being the one pampering him while he was lying down. There was a playful glint in your husband's eyes as you looked at him.

“Do you know this is the first time you kissed me?” he exhaled softly.

You couldn't believe that was possible and for a few seconds you tried to remember so you could contradict him. But every time you remembered you realized that it was always him who initiated the contact to which you only responded, so, effectively, it was the first kiss you gave him out of conviction.

Maybe it was an omen that something good was coming.

Still happy with how everything had turned out, you snuggled into his side, your head resting on his chest while he hugged you and threw a sheet over your bodies. You planted a hand on his bare skin and began drumming your fingers, alternating with small circles made with the greatest delicacy.

You were silent for a long time, you even thought that your husband had fallen asleep until you heard him speak again:

“It's also the first time I'm doing this.”

“Are you talking about sex, your grace?”

“No, I'm talking about cuddling,” he confessed softly, his hand caressing your back the same way you did with him, “And don't call me your majesty anymore. I am Aegon. Or my prince, at any rate. But my is important”

With the affection worthy of a wife, you raised your head to place a kiss on his cheek and assured him that from now on you would call him that in the privacy of your chambers.

Suddenly, after another moment of silence, Aegon pulled you close to him as if afraid you were going to suddenly evaporate. Intending to calm his fears, you climbed until you were on top of his body, hiding your head in his neck so that the distance became minimal.

There was silence for another couple of minutes.

“Do you think I can ever be forgiven?”

Apparently the atmosphere of the moment had managed to soften the boy's heart.

“We can all be absolved, Aegon.”

"And you?"

"Me what?"

“Do you think you can ever love me?” you were quiet for a second, thinking about your response. Then, he added “Or could you at least try? It would be a nice detail for me. No one has ever done it before.”

Not wanting to ruin the mood with a false word you decided to kiss his neck gently and that was enough of an answer for him. He would have to trust in your goodwill and that he could continue to restrain his impulses to keep this newly discovered gem that was his wife. With some luck you could even be that person he prayed for so much all his life, one with whom he could feel safe.

The slowing of the man's breathing revealed to you that he had already fallen asleep and you discovered that it seemed not so bad to find yourself in that position, sheltered by your lover's arms.

Under that scenario, the idea of eventually loving Prince Aegon Targaryen no longer sounded so far-fetched.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x fem!reader #aegon targaryen x female reader #aegon targaryen #aegon x you #aegon x reader #aegon x y/n #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen fic #aegon ii targaryen

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councilofcastamere · 2 months ago

Text

WINTER NIGHTS | CREGAN STARK X TARG!READER ꧂

a b r i d g e m e n t : With tensions rising, your elder half-sister Rhaenyra arranges for you to seek asylum in the freezing land of the North. And fortunately for you, Cregan is there to show you how Northmen operate.

TW: penetration, loss of virginity, breeding kink, mentions gender roles but in a sexy way, sexual tension, sibling jealousy, childhood neglect, mentions of death by birth, shitty character development

A/N: I know the girly portrayed is Visenya but her body is tea in this so maybe I do know best…

The second daughter. The oh-so passed over maiden. Not belonging to anything, nor belonging to nothing. Not the first, and not the last. An ever enduring memory to a passed over era. Nothing significant. Never anything significant.

That’s what you were. Insignificance. A beautiful insignificance, if you could see beauty in tragedy. Beauty in all the ways of life. All the little horrible things that make up a big, beautiful, picture. People shan’t look close, you’d assure yourself.

But you were you. Born to the everlasting way of royal life. To the peaceful Viserys, and his second wife, a woman whose name is not all that important. Another maiden from a noble house that perished to childbirth. Lost her life, giving life.

And as it did not to many maidens, the Gods did not grant you the chance to grow up with your mother. The blood that dripped down her thighs had covered you from head to toe as you came into existence, and she had naught of you in her arms before a deep and long slumber overcame her. The stranger had come for her, and he did not slow down on its way. He’d taken her as quick as she’d given you to the world. A quick exchange, you’d suppose.

Now and then you think about her. What she might have looked like, what she might have liked, what she might have been had she survived the wretched burden of your existence. You’d often wonder if infants who survived childbirth ever felt as deep a burden as she did. To have your very first breath of life tainted with the death of an innocent. Tainted with tragedy.

Growing up in King’s Landing hadn’t been all that as it sounded. You’d never really been that happy, as ungracious as it sounded.

You had an older sister - Rhaenyra - who’d occasionally humoured you. You’d never seen much of her, really. Perhaps it was your own fault as well. For not actively seeking her out. For not being the younger sister one was supposed to be. Some people - as close to you as they may be - are just unattainable in your mind. Your kin aren’t your kin until you allow it.

You have better companions than her, you figured. You had your lady-in-waitings. Lady Vievenne of house Swann. Lady Laycie of house Oldflowers. Lady Claere of house Ambrose. Lady Evelyne of house Hightower, who was, by all accounts, a gift from your newest stepmother, Alicent of the house Hightower.

What you also had was younger siblings. Such as Aegon. Though he is naught but a skirt enthusiast, swimming along the sea of young maidens at his whim. But he cares not whether they are, does he?

And oh, do not get yourself started on the one-eyed prince and that smug little smile on his sharp-featured face. Nonetheless, he was gentle. Oh so gentle with his touch. And oh so sinister in the way that made you feel important enough to be in his good graces.

However, you chose to distance yourself from all parties involved as fate made it clear what it had in store. A great slap to the great Targaryen dynasty. A dark cloud looming over the already curse-clad clan.

For even you knew that the only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon, was itself.

“Sister.” you greeted one late evening, having taken flight to Dragonstone on your she-dragon, Starfyre. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“…y/n.” the elder sister called out, a small smile on her lips. “I… am glad for your visit.”

“…I’m certain you are,” you say, trying with all your might to contain a frown.

You eyed her awkwardly as she wiped her sweaty hands off her dress, letting out a sigh as the elder royal wasn’t quite certain how to approach the topic.

“I… understand… things quite haven’t been… that active, in our kinship,” Rhaenyra speaks up, taking a step closer. “And for that, I apologise.”

You could only nod, a small smile gracing your lips at the heartwarming confession of absent love.

“I apologise, also.” you smiled, your hands finding each other behind your back. “I suppose I should have been the one to seek your company and counsel as well.”

“Good.” Rhaenyra smiled awkwardly, a silence engulfing the echo-ridden chambers. “The reason, as to why I called you, might be surprising.”

You froze slightly, heart pounding as the possibilities of implications travelled through your mind. The goosebumps on your arms grew more prominent as a cold breeze passed through.

“Oh?” you answered, cocking a brow. “And what might that be, sister?”

“I ask of you to travel to the North,” Rhaenyra admits, a tone of seriousness overshadowing the warm moment. “I have already sent a raven to Lord Cregan Stark, and he has agreed to host you. If it pleases you, of course.”

No answer came out of your lips, save for your a mere breath. You felt a pang in your heart, consuming your every emotion, making certain you cannot detect how you feel about the news.

A dragon in the north? What a jest. You’d do better in Dorne, surrounded by sun-kissed squires and stable boys than laddish lordlings and Northern butchers.

“And… why should I?” you asked, respect in your tone. “Pardon me, my sister, but why have you made this decision for me?”

“Tensions are rising, y/n. You know that as well as I do.” Rhaenyra sighs, her body language giving up on its tense posture. “And I am aware of your… complex feelings on it. But to the North you must. I’m sending Rhaena to the Va-”

“Yes, because Rhaena gets to be hosted by a relative of yours, in safety. Meanwhile you sent me off to some Northern stranger!”

“Y/n.” Rhaenyra warned, raising a brow. She took a step closer as you composed your words. “You are my sister, and I will have you safe in the North. The Northmen are honourable men, and in time you’ll know.”

✫彡

And so you were, clad in thick fur, lady Vivenne and lady Evelyne at both sides of yourself. Across from you sat three servants, and somewhere else sat your sworn shield.

“It will be splendid.” Evelyne beamed, properly adjusting her hair, tied up in a bun, similar to the ones the older maidens wear. “We shall meet every dusk, and speak about our day. In front of the fire.”

“Not if I can help it.” you sighed softly. “Apologies, my ladies, but I’ll let you two get at it. I’d love to explore the North in solitude.”

“Right…” Vivenne nodded, looking through the small peep holes as the carriage slowed down, just outside the gates of Winterfell. “We’ve arrived, I suppose. You’ll have to greet Lord Stark. If he’s anything we’ve heard of and more, I wish you luck.”

You only nodded, watching as your ladies exited the carriage, standing at the side of the door. Their faces are cast down, as if in mourning. Perhaps they’re mourning the life of luxury provided at King’s Landing.

You could not blame them for it, really. From growing up in their own house, to growing up in the Royal house, to trade it again to live to see the snowy winters of Winterfell.

You shook slightly, the cold air hitting your face in an instant as you slightly lifted your dress, taking a step out of the three provided for the carriage.

You looked ahead of you, eyes locking on the noblemen and women, standing straight and proud. The women bore clothes of low quality, so obviously sewn to fit any class. The men wore dark furs, contrasting to the blue clothing of the opposite sex.

And in the midst of it, stood Cregan Stark, accompanied by a mere little boy of just two years of age. Your eyes locked upon his stormy-grey ones, his face etched into a stern expression, eyes focused on yours.

You maintained the eye contact, taking each step closer to him.

“Princess Y/N.” Cregan greeted formally, taking your soft hand in his. “Welcome to Winterfell. I am Lord Cregan Stark.”

“Thank you, Lord Stark.” you smile, curtsying in a fashionable manner. Your eyes stood glued on his as his lips brushed against the palm of your hand. “I’m truly honoured to be here.”

“…I’m certain you are.” Cregan answered, eyeing you skeptically.

Hearing false compliments wasn’t out of the ordinary for the wolf of Winterfell. He knew well enough that you weren’t suited for the North. You were a Southern lady, used to the life of feasts, luxury, and sparkly dresses.

“Let us go inside, shall we?” you smiled charmingly, looking up at the tall castle with dread in your eyes.

“Aye, so we shall.” Cregan nodded, his broad shoulders most notable as he sauntered into the opened gates.

✫彡

The first night went unfamiliar to you, the harsh blows of the cold weather creating a prominent presence looming over the already melancholic times.

You sat in your chambers, sitting at the stony window sill as you watched Cregan from above.

The lord was overlooking young squires on the courtyard, engaged in conversation with the knight in charge of guiding the young to-be-knights.

All dressed in fur, shoulders looking as if they were padded. Cregan’s hair was tied up, with two front strands escaping and hanging loose. His grey-blue eyes stood glued at watching the young squire’s techniques, and you could only sigh as you got lost in his appearance.

Ever since stepping foot into the North of Westeros, you’d developed a strange sense of interest in the beauty of Northern men. How they all dressed so grimly, but intimidating. How they’re oh-so honourable and hard working. How they always seemed so clean shaven but rugged all at once.

And you could not help but wonder what it would be like had you wedded one of them.

Being completely honest, you’d never really been the sort of maiden to stay inside of her chambers, waiting for her husband to return from his duty, deprived of affection.

With any Southern lord, being a doting unappreciated wife would never cross your mind.

But with Northern men, however, you had the feeling your efforts wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Before you could continue your vulgarly confusing thoughts, you saw Cregan’s eyes shift to yours, finding your gaze.

You could only lean against the window, a hand on the stony side as you gazed back at him. Your hair was loose, and you were dressed in your creamy beige nightdress.

You held his gaze for a moment, until ultimately turning away, leaving the implications of that gaze to his imagination.

✫彡

By the third day, you’d been reading in the old library belonging to House Stark. You’d sat on a plush seat, the dusty book on your lap as your gentle fingers flipped through the pages.

But you weren’t alone.

Cregan Stark sat near you, his knees in almost touching proximity to yours.

“Aye, the North is cold, but it’s honest.” he tells you, gently shutting his own book. “The snow doesn’t lie about its intention. No courtly games like they play in the South.”

“Oh, please.” you smiled, shutting your book as well. your body shifted so it was facing his, resting your head on one hand. “The courtly games are what makes it so fun.”

“Now, riddle me this.” You smiled, noting his full attention on you. His body language exuded calmness, and you felt secure in the knowledge that his comfort lies with you. “How do you not like courtly games? Personally, it makes my life all the more amusing.”

“I suppose it’s all jesting for you, princess.” Cregan said, his eyes resting on yours. “Amusement or not, I’d rather know where I stand…”

“With you, however…” His eyes trailed down to your bare shoulder, the white nightdress you’re wearing very much a sight of sore eyes. “I think I know.”

“Oh, do you?” you teased, cocking a brow. “And how so, pray tell?”

“Well…” he grunted, shifting in his seat to tighten the proximity around you two. “You’d do well not to cross any Northern man. They don’t take well to… courtly games.”

You only smiled at that, your upper body instinctively leaning in, albeit torturously slow.

“And, uh, suppose I… marry a Northern lord.” you teased quite coquettishly, a hand moving to rest on the thick fur coating his body. “What am I in for.”

You watched as his smirk only widened, gently taking the hand that rested on his fur, and taking it in his.

“Marry a Northern lord like me, and have your nights warmed under the thick fur of blankets.” he says, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles. “Northern loyalty runs deep, princess. That’s what you’d be in for.”

You nodded slowly, and you could not help but notice those coloured eyes of his descending onto your perky breasts.

Great, this was all going well so far. “I’d imagine… do you think he’d gift me a pup? I’ve always wanted a tiny pet, to keep.”

“Yeah?” The lord licked his lips, a hand resting on your waist. “You think you’d handle a wolf properly?”

“Well, I would.” you smiled, nodding in agreement. “I’m a dragon… and dragons do not surrender that easily.”

You smiled, shifting in your seat again as Cregan amusedly indulged you in your silly thoughts. “Just imagine it, my lord. I’d be holding that pup every night trying to get it to warm to me.”

Your hand slowly, but surely, trickled down to his clothed thigh, trying to maintain a sense of quiet intimacy.

“You’ll have your work cut out for you, then.” his voice lowered, bordering on husky. “Wolves aren’t so easily tamed, not even by someone with…”

He paused for a moment, a hand gently taking the one you placed on his thigh.

“…your charms.”

You’d have a cheeky comeback on the tip of your tongue, had it not been for Cregan’s lips descending upon yours, clashing together like Blackwoods and Brackens.

You let out a soft breath as you eased into the kiss, feeling his large hands grip your waists as if his life depended on it.

Your hands moved from his shoulders, to his neck, and then to his armoured chest. The armour he carried felt cold to your hands, yet it made it all the more sinful.

“Did you have this in mind?” you murmured against his lips, tongue circling his as you so sloppily attempted to kiss him. “Seducing me?”

The silence engulfed you two for a moment, only being overshadowed by the sound of soft breaths.

“You have it wrong, princess.” he breathed, firmly planting you upon his lap, your back pressing against his chest. “Do you take me for a halfwit?”

You smiled, looking over your shoulder as you attempted to chase his lips with yours again.

“No, but I certainly did not take you for a man so easily seduced.” you teased, guiding his hands to your clothed breasts. “You don’t seem the type to give in that easily.”

“Because it’s untrue.” he spoke up, lips brushing to against your neck. “But do you honestly think nothing would be done about the way you saunter around, looking as you do?”

His hands slowly tugged against your nightdress, pressing a hard kiss to your achy jaw before pulling away.

“Lay yourself down on the carpet.” he commanded, hands shifting to peel off his fur coat, along with his armour and tunic.

All you could do was nod and watch on as his armour went discarded on the floor, the metal material cranking against the stone ground.

His bare chest was now visible, the defining abs illuminated by the glowing fire. His hair messed up when he threw his tunic over his head.

“Cregan, I-"

And in one moment, you felt his large body overshadow yours, clashing lips again. Cregan lifted his body as to not crush you, hands on either side of your head.

You only permitted yourself to breathe unevenly, stead of moan. Your hands found his shoulders, desiring to pull him closer than possible.

“Ever since you’ve arrived you’d been nothing but trouble.” Cregan murmured, lips finding your throat. “Sauntering around with your ladies, endlessly teasing me.”

Your legs only shifted to wrap around his waist, back slowly arching at the kisses.

He took notice, and let one of his hands pin you down, lips descending towards your perky breasts.

“Gods, you’re wrong for this.” he grunted, swirling his tongue around the nipple. “For provoking me, as you did yesterday, and the day before that.”

“For thinking you have the authority to do this to a lord.” he breathed, your small breast fitting into his large palm.

“For…” he continued, kissing down your stomach, before ultimately glancing back at you “…thinking you’d get away with this.”

“I did not think I’d get away with this.” you tease, watching as he moves face-to-face again. “Which is why I did it.”

Your hands find his muscled arms, squeezing it gently. “I want to know how Northern men do it.”

You’d think you were jesting, but were you truly?

You’d have opened your mouth to say anything else, looking up at him, if it weren’t for the Northern lord himself roughly flipping you to your stomach.

“You wish to know, my princess?” he murmurs, unlatching his breeches. “You’d have your first time be with a Northman?”

You nodded, cheek resting on the carpet fabric without surrender. “Yes. Gods yes.”

He hiked your skirt around your waist, your plump ass visible to his peering eyes.

“You’ll be ruined for other men, aye.” He grunted, his hand wrapping around his rock hard cock.

“That’s good, because I desire no one save you.” you smiled, allowing him to lift your hips up and arch your back.

“Yeah?” he smirked, the tip of his cock rubbing against your damp hole. “You’ll have me make you my wife?”

You nodded, impatiently moving your hips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“You’d be a good wife, wouldn’t you?” he grunted once again, head finally pushing into your unloosened clit. “No Southern games, no poignant looks of yours.”

“You like that about me.” you painfully breathed, feeling the uncomfortable ache of his cock in your newly penetrated cunt.

His head descended, placing gentle kisses upon your shoulders. “A maiden. Perhaps you aren’t as well-equipped to handle a wolf as you said you were.”

“I am.” you protested, pushing your hips back. “Move your hips. I wish to prove myself.”

He only speeded up his thrusts, and as you allowed the moans to fill your lips, his hands found a way to push your head down.

“You’d carry my pups?” he asked, thrusting into you aggressively, pumping his cock in and out. “Wait on my cock every night?”

You only moaned incredulously, asscheeks clapping along with every snap of his hips.

“Yes.” you breathed, gasp and claps filling the room. “Fuck, put a babe inside of me. I want your children.”

“We’ll have to wed sooner, before the babe gets born in wedlock.” he grunted, hands gripping your hips, pushing you back onto his thick length. “But that’s what you wanted all along, was it?”

You gripped the fabric of the carpet, cheeks burning as it rubbed against the irritating carpet.

“For a thick cock such as this.” he teased, tugging at your hair.

“Yes.” you moaned pathetically, cheeks flushed as you felt a knot forming into your stomach.

Your lips parted, your eyes rolling above-ways.

“Yes, yes!” you moaned loudly, feeling his hands grope your breasts. “Fuck, you’re moving fast.”

“Never fast enough.” he murmurs, member sliding against your wet slit.

He could feel your tight walls clenching around him, milking his cock for all it is worth. His grip on you tightened as he thrust down to meet your upward motion.

And with one sharp thrusts, you felt the knot loosen and the cream dripping out your twitching clit.

Yet, he didn’t stop, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he rode you through your orgasm.

The feeling of your walls clenching around his cock was enough to send him reeling as well, burying himself deep inside of you.

Hot spurts of cum dripping out of your hole, you completely got yourself spent, closing your eyes and deciding you could just fall asleep on this carpet.

“No sleeping in the library.” he scolded lightly, putting on his fur coat, covering his naked physique. “Come here.”

You exhaustedly crawled over to him again, and snuck yourself into his coat, the clothing covering both of your naked bodies.

“I’m taking you to your chambers.” he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “And for the next time, do not attempt to get so exhausted. I went easy on you this time.”

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lizzyiii · 2 months ago

Text

Rōva Mandia

pairing | aemond targaryen x sister!reader

word count | 7.1k words

summary | no one has ever loved aemond as fiercely as his beloved older sister. in return, aemond honors the vow he made to you in his youth.

tags | (18+MDNI!) SMUT. unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f), tiddy suckin', lactating kink, targaryen incest, reader is described to have auburn hair and lilac eyes (that's all), very very soft aemond, tooth rotting fluff at the end.

a/n | you know when you just randomly maladaptive dream entire storylines. this was one of them.

likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated ✨

You were the firstborn child of King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Alicent Hightower, yet you drifted in the shadows of memory like a wisp of smoke. Your presence often eclipsed by the bold brilliance of your elder half-sister Rhaenyra, or merely the existence of your younger brother, Aegon. Yet, you never truly minded.

In the year 107 AC, on a night heavy with anticipation, the young Queen Alicent Hightower cradled the weight of her impending pregnancy. She had endured anxiety and dread throughout her pregnancy, her every waking moment tinged with the consuming fear that the fate of her marriage—and of House Hightower—hinged solely on her ability to provide King Viserys with a trueborn son. Yet, as fate would have it, the child that emerged from her womb was not the hoped-for heir but a daughter.

When you were born, the moment felt like a betrayal. Alicent, still young and with deep-seated insecurities, could barely bring herself to lay eyes upon the newborn. The girl, scarcely fifteen years of age, cringed at the sight of her own flesh and blood. What stung the deepest was your hair, a rich auburn hue that betrayed your Targaryen lineage. The only remnant of your noble bloodline was found in the child’s striking lilac eyes.

Each time the queen gazed at her daughter, a cascade of shame washed over her, intertwining with a deep self-loathing for how she could harbor such sentiments towards an innocent babe. Yet, Alicent felt a cruel twist of self-loathing rise within her, her heart heavy with despair as she struggled to accept the sight of you, a precious life she was unsure she could embrace.

Just a year later, however, Alicent finally brought forth Aegon, a true prince, heartily welcomed into the world as the firstborn son of King Viserys. With the birth of Aegon, a new dawn broke in the halls of the Red Keep, overshadowing your existence, casting you into the recesses of memory.

A joyful spirit, you moved through the world with ease. Sleep came effortlessly, as did your feeding time; you were a balm to your septas and caretakers, never troubling them with cries or demands. In the halls of the Keep, you were fondly known as the Realm’s Jewel, a title that shimmered like sunlight on water.

Yet, for a girl of merely five summers, there was an oddity to your existence—the way your father and your mother rarely sought your company or cast their eyes in your direction. Your youthful heart struggled to grasp the currents of neglect that flowed through the air, as the King seemed to have all but forgotten you and the Queen wore a mask of shame with every fleeting glance at you.

Still, when nestled amid your younger siblings, you found a sanctuary of joy. Aegon, though just four, was a whirlwind of energy and laughter, his playful spirit infusing warmth into your days. Helaena, your sweet baby sister, was quiet, perhaps too quiet for one so small, and yet her beauty was a radiant comfort to you.

Your mother, Queen Alicent, was on the cusp of bringing forth another child. To your youthful mind, this was the extent of your knowledge, as imparted by the ever-watchful Septa Emery who accompanied you. The thought of a new sibling filled your heart with a joyous anticipation that seemed to dance within your chest.

"Septa Emery," you interjected with a voice that was soft yet insistent, "has Mama had the babe yet?"

The Septa turned to you, her lips curving into a gentle smile, a reflection of her amusement at your eagerness. "I believe she has, my dear princess."

A gasp escaped your lips, bubbling forth in delight, and you leaped to your feet. "Can we see her? Please, may we?"

Septa Emery paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face as she regarded the earnestness shining in your eyes. Her voice, though laced with an air of formality, held a hint of affection. "I am uncertain, my princess. It may not be the proper time..."

But you pressed on, your pleas tumbling forth in a torrent of childlike sincerity. "Please, just for a moment! Then we shall return at once! I promise!"

After a drawn-out moment of contemplation, during which you could see the battle of duty and affection warring within her, Septa Emery sighed, her resolve crumbling. "Very well, let us go, Princess."

A smile erupted across your face, the kind that radiated pure joy, and in that instant, you were off—your feet barely kissing the ground as you raced from your solar. Septa Emery followed in your wake, her steps hurried yet careful, endeavoring to keep pace with your youthful exuberance as you dashed toward the birthing chambers.

You offered a quick, respectful curtsy to the guard stationed at the door, earning a small chuckle of amusement in return as he nodded and swung the heavy door open. You slipped into the room, your heart racing as your gaze landed on your mother, Alicent, who appeared weary and drenched in beads of sweat.

Following her weary eyes, you spotted your father standing at the center of the chamber, cradling a small bundle swathed in soft linen. A gasp escaped your lips, the sound a mixture of surprise and joy as you hurried to his side, eagerness bubbling within you.

“Father, may I see, please?” you asked, tugging excitedly at the hem of his tunic.

“My darling, be gentle with your father,” Alicent said with a scolding look, her voice tinged with exhaustion. At her words, you sheepishly withdrew your hand, though your excitement remained constant.

Viserys chuckled warmly, his eyes twinkling as he looked down at you. “Calm yourself, Alicent. She merely wishes to meet her new brother.”

A wide smile broke across your face upon learning that it was a boy. With a tender motion, Viserys lowered his arms, revealing the tiny face of your new brother. You leaned closer, your heart swelling with wonder.

"What is his name?" you asked, your voice a soft whisper filled with awe as you gazed at the small figure.

“Aemond,” the King replied quietly, an approving smile gracing his lips as he looked at the bundle with pride. “Aemond will do nicely.”

Aemond Targaryen struggled to recall the days of his infancy, memories shrouded in the mists of time. The solitary shard of clarity that pierced through his mind was the profound grief that accompanied the failure of his dragon egg to hatch, a sentiment that lingered like a shadow, filled with sorrow and disappointment. Pleasurable memories from his youth were rare as dragon's gold, yet the few he clung to were always linked to you.

His older sister, radiant as the sun, with a warm smile that graced her lips whenever she cast her gaze upon him. You never ridiculed him or taunted him for lacking a dragon of his own; rather, it was you who offered him solace. The first time he soared through the skies upon a dragon's back, it was your magnificent purple beast, Aegarax, that carried him aloft.

He recalled the fleeting moments when the weight of training and the useless lessons at the Dragonpit would lift from his shoulders. During those precious respites, he sought you out, drawn like a moth to a shimmering flame. Often, you would be found in the company of Helaena and your kind Septa, ever eager to absorb knowledge. Yet, there were those cherished times when you chose to spend your hours alongside him, wandering through the fragrant gardens or nestled in the library. There, you would ask him to read, his heart swelling with joy at the opportunity to please you.

Yet, a constant sense of unworthiness gnawed at him. If he ever hoped to be deemed worthy of your love, he felt he must embody the essence of a true Targaryen—a feat he believed could only be accomplished through claiming a dragon of his own. Thus, on one fateful day, he dared to enter the Dragonpit, almost succumbing to the searing flames of Dreamfyre. Shortly thereafter, a White Cloak hastily whisked him away to his mother, where he braced for her ire. Yet, to his astonishment, amidst a stern scolding, he found unexpected comfort in her embrace—an offering that was never given freely.

After cleaning his ashen skin, Aemond sought you out, yearning for your presence to soothe his troubled heart. It felt like an eternity as he navigated the many corners of the keep—the library, the gardens, and the courtyard—yet you remained elusive. Just as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, he finally discovered you in your chambers.

Without a moment's hesitation, he pushed open the door and slipped inside, finding you gracefully at work on the chaise, your fingers deftly weaving threads into intricate patterns. You were a breathtaking vision, embodying grace and beauty. In Aemond’s eyes, no other woman could rival you; with your bouncy auburn locks framing your face and your wide lilac eyes sparkling with warmth, you were perfection itself in his young gaze.

Suddenly aware of his presence, your lilac eyes widened in surprise, quickly softening into a gentle smile. “I didn’t hear you come in, Lēkia,” you said, your voice a soothing balm to his troubled spirit.

Aemond maintained a stoic facade, yet you recognized the telltale signs of turmoil he tried to conceal. Setting your embroidery aside, you rose and approached him, concern etched on your soft features. “What’s wrong?”

He bit his lip, fighting against the tide of tears that threatened to spill from a heart burdened by inadequacy. With a sudden rush, he wrapped his arms around you, burying his head against your soft stomach, the familiar comfort of your embrace drawing away the weight of his struggles. You enveloped him in your warmth, holding him close.

“What ails you, my sweet?” you asked softly, your voice gentle as you cradled him within your warmth.

In a muffled tone, he whispered something into your midsection, prompting you to hum thoughtfully. You gently withdrew from your embrace, seeking to meet his gaze. "Please, speak to me," you urged, your eyes searching his.

"I... I attempted to claim a dragon within the Dragonpit," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper as he averted your lilac gaze.

“Aemond,” you breathed, a soft sigh escaping with your words. He continued to gaze elsewhere, so you delicately entwined your fingers with his, leading him toward the luxurious chaise. “Come, sit.”

For a moment, you gazed at him tenderly, while you settled beside him, you brushed aside the silvery strands that shrouded his face, your touch light and affectionate. “You will have a dragon, Aemond. It flows through your bloodline, just as it does with every Targaryen.”

“But when?” he replied, his voice tinged with desperation and despair as his sad gaze finally met yours, shimmering with unfulfilled longing.

"I cannot say when, but the day will come," you assured him, caressing his cheek with a resolve you wished to impart. "In the meantime, you are always welcome to ride Aegarax with me. He enjoys your company as much as I do."

A flicker of relief sparked within Aemond, a small smile breaking the solemnity of his features. “One day, I shall marry you, Mandia,” he declared, his tone earnest.

You let out a light laugh—a melodious sound akin to a sweet harp, which soothed his troubled spirit. "Oh, really?"

He pouted at your playful response, brow furrowing with the weight of his intentions. "You think I jest, but I assure you, I will."

Meeting his earnest gaze with a warm smile, you nodded in playful affirmation. "Very well, Valonqar. We shall see."

In the gentle silence that followed, the two of you simply enjoyed the comfort of each other's presence. Aemond cast his gaze toward the window, observing the encroaching darkness that swallowed the sky. With a soft glimmer of hope in his brilliant violet eyes, he turned back to you, asking quietly, “May I stay here tonight?”

Your response was a tender smile only reserved for him, a sweet beacon that quickened his heart. “Of course, Aemond.”

His sister’s words rang with an undeniable truth. In time, Aemond did indeed lay claim to a dragon—not just any dragon, but Vhagar herself, the Queen of Dragons, the largest creature to ever soar the skies of Westeros. Yet, claiming such a majestic beast came at a grievous cost; he sacrificed an eye in the process. At first, he boasted that the price was worth it, but upon returning to the gilded halls of King's Landing, the true weight of his loss bore down on him.

Aemond found himself faced with the daunting challenge of relearning the world around him. He had to master the art of reading anew, to walk with the steadiness that had once come naturally, and to wield a sword with the same grace as before. Each endeavor was a trial, a relentless drain on his youthful body and spirit. Yet, through the trials of his recovery, you, his beloved elder sister, remained steadfast by his side, offering unwavering support and encouragement as he navigated this painful journey of transformation.

Until, all too suddenly, you weren't.

He entered your solar, seeking the solace of your presence, only to be met with the voices of your grandsire and mother. Concealed from their gaze, he peeked through the door, his heart heavy, and caught a glimpse of you standing by the window. Your arms were wrapped around yourself, as if trying to shield your heart from the world beyond.

"What was his name again?" your voice, laced with a softness that belied your inner turmoil, floated through the air, causing Aemond's brow to furrow in concern at the sorrow woven into your words.

"Thaddeus Rowan, Lord of Goldengrove," his mother replied, and Aemond felt a flicker of confusion as he noticed her wide, imploring eyes fixed upon you, as though she were silently pleading with you.

You nodded gently, your gaze lost in the sprawling landscape beyond, "Would I be able to bring Aegarax with me?"

"I daresay Goldengrove would welcome your dragon's protection with open arms, granddaughter," Otto declared, his eyes sharp and calculating as they scrutinized every nuance of your demeanor, awaiting your reaction with a predator’s patience.

A tumult of emotions roiled within Aemond’s chest, though he could hardly fathom why. A longing to comfort you surged, even as your back remained turned. At last, you responded, your voice resolute yet laced with vulnerability, "Then I shall fulfill my duty as a princess of the realm."

A spark of satisfaction flared in Otto’s expression. "I am glad to hear it, granddaughter," he affirmed, a tone of finality settling into his words.

Yet Alicent lingered, her gaze still fixed upon you, her eyes a tapestry of sadness and shame. She reached out a hand, a gesture of motherly affection, but in a moment of hesitation, withdrew before she could bridge the distance between you. With a shared understanding, she and Otto exchanged a nod before departing your solar. Aemond pressed himself behind a grand pillar, concealed from their view as his heart raced.

He knew he couldn’t linger long in the facade of concealment. After a moment's hesitation, he stepped into his sister's solar. Your back was turned to him, and as he drew nearer, he announced his presence with a caution, “Mandia.”

Startled, you flinched at the sound of his voice, swiftly raising your hands to your face—a gesture of self-protection. Only then did Aemond catch a glimpse of the tears streaming down your cheeks, slivers of silver glimmering in the waning light. His brows knitted together in concern as he advanced, but your dismissed his worry with a bittersweet laugh, “Lēkia. I fear you have caught me in a most untimely moment.”

He longed to comfort you, to wipe away your grief, yet an insatiable curiosity compelled him to press on gently, “Why were mother and grandsire speaking of Goldengrove?”

You cast him a scolding glance, brow raised, your slight smile faltering as you continued to dab at your damp cheeks, “It is considered rude to eavesdrop.”

“I do not understand what is happening,” he continued, urgency creeping into his voice. Deep down, however, he felt the ominous truth threatening to crush him.

With a heavy heart, you met Aemond’s gaze directly, your big lilac eyes filled with sorrow and reluctant acceptance. “I am betrothed to Lord Thaddeus Rowan of Goldengrove.”

His world shattered around him; the pain radiating from his chest was more excruciating than the loss of his eye. “What? No. You cannot.”

“It is not my choice, Aemond,” you replied, shaking your head in defeat, the shimmer of hope fading from your countenance.

“You are a Targaryen!” Aemond nearly shouted, his voice a crescendo of desperation. “He is unworthy of you.”

“It matters not,” you whispered softly, the finality of your words echoing in the stillness of the chamber.

Deep down, Aemond clung desperately to the hope that this was but a nightmare from which he would awaken. The truth, however, was a crueler torment than any physical wound. Breath came to him in ragged gasps, as if all the air had been stolen from his lungs, leaving him to struggle against a tide of despair.

“I think Aegarax will take nicely to The Reach," lost in your own turmoil, you failed to notice the torment that mirrored your own within Aemond’s piercing gaze. Instead, you murmured to yourself, perhaps seeking solace amidst the tempest of your emotions, "Yes, he will like it very much.”

And soon, the fates would conspire against them both. Just after Aegon and Helaena exchanged their vows, you would be sent away to the Reach—a gilded cage from which Aemond would not see you for six long years. Yet even in that time apart, his heart remained tethered to yours, longing for the touch of his lost sun amidst the shadows of his world.

It was done.

Aemond savored the sweet taste of victory. Aegon, his pitiful brother, lay incapacitated, the remnants of his power reduced to whispers, his body marred by burns that etched a grim testament to Aemond's fury. Aemond had dismissed his mother, Queen Alicent, from the Small Council, casting aside any vestige of her influence. Now, he stood unchallenged as Prince Regent, the shadow of his ambition stretching across the realm.

With resolute determination, he summoned Ser Criston Cole and commanded the Lord of Casterly Rock to march forth from the west, their forces destined to converge upon the foreboding shadows of Harrenhal. Aemond would join them at the opportune moment, ready to solidify his claim and quench the fires of dissent.

Though Aegon was silenced and the realm lay at his feet, one yearning gnawed at Aemond’s heart—a singular desire that eclipsed all else. He had longed for a figure who transcended mere ambition, a presence that had haunted his dreams since early childhood. As the sun dipped below the horizon, surrendering the sky to twilight, a raven arrived with a missive to his council from The Reach.

The missive bore grim tidings: Lord Thaddeus Rowan had perished in battle, and his brother Thoren had ascended to the title of Lord of Goldengrove, swearing fealty to Rhaenyra Targaryen. Rage bubbled within him as he recalled the moment his mother had all but surrendered you—his beloved sister—into the arms of that faded, middle-aged lord.

Images of you flooded his mind—your laughter echoing off the stone walls of your ancestral home, your smile a beacon in the dreariness of courtly life. Aemond felt the fire of desire ignite within him. The time had come; he would reclaim what fate had stolen.

It struck him as odd that, despite news of your firstborn being a daughter, you had recently given birth to a second child. Goldengrove, a jewel in the Reach, should rightfully have been entrusted to you, yet it now rested, unjustly, in the grip of Thoren Rowan.

But the thought that consumed Aemond was not one of territorial politics. No, it throbbed with the pulse of a more personal victory: your husband lay dead. At last, he could claim you as his own, severing the chains that bound you to another.

As soon as the first light of dawn kissed the horizon, Aemond resolved to pay a visit to Thoren Rowan. He would make the traitor pay for his disloyalty to the crown, and yet it was the promise of rekindling the bond with you that stoked the flames of his ambition.

In truth, Aemond had not found a moment's respite, his restless mind weaving visions of your long-anticipated reunion. As dawn broke over the horizon, shimmering rays of light filtering through the castle, he adorned himself in his finest garb, meticulously chosen for this momentous occasion. With a determined heart, he mounted Vhagar, ready to embark on his journey to the Reach.

The journey to Goldengrove was one of anticipation and fury. Hours slipped by, and at long last, Aemond beheld the looming silhouette of the castle. Vhagar’s terrifying wings overshadowed the stone walls, casting a foreboding shadow over the realm. The sounds of alarm bells rang out like wails of despair, mingling with the frightened cries of its inhabitants, as his arrival heralded both dread and a reckoning.

As Vhagar touched down, Aemond swiftly rounded up the Rowan men, making them kneel before him. Thoren Rowan, trembling and desperate, pleaded for mercy in the face of certain doom. Although the moment summoned an eager anticipation within him, Aemond felt a flicker of disappointment—he had hoped to catch a glimpse of you upon his arrival, yet you remained elusive, lost within the sprawling estate of Goldengrove.

Just as he prepared to utter the command that would unleash Vhagar's fiery wrath upon the trembling men, his gaze was drawn to a figure advancing through the smoke and chaos. Time seemed to stall as he recognized you, and his breath hitched in his throat.

You appeared as though a radiant goddess had graced the earth, clad in a gown of shimmering white and gold that caught the fading light. Your auburn locks, intricately braided, framed your face perfectly. Aemond studied you intently, noting that six years had graced you with maturity; the gentle roundness of your cheeks had given way to a more defined beauty, and your figure had blossomed into becoming more full, heralding your entrance into womanhood.

"What is this commotion?" you inquired, a frown tugging at your lips as you regarded Aemond, dismissing the row of quaking men at your feet with a mere glance.

Thoran Rowan, breath escaping him in a heavy sigh of relief, turned to you with palpable gratitude. “Good sister, finally! You must put an end to this madness.”

You turned to Thoren, tilting your head thoughtfully, your expression inscrutable. After a moment, you replied, “I shall call my brother off, but only on one condition, Thoren.”

Aemond listened intently, the gleam in his eye revealing no discontent with your words, while Thoran’s expression shifted to one of desperate anticipation. “Anything,” he affirmed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“My daughter shall inherit Goldengrove when she comes of age and ascend as its Lady,” you declared, unwavering and resolute, maintaining your composure in the face of any opposition.

“Sister!” Thoren's face contorted in disbelief. “She is a girl; It goes against tradition.”

You studied Thoran with a cold gaze, your shoulders rising in a nonchalant shrug. “Then I cannot help you. Without a male of the Rowan line, my daughter stands as the only viable heir to Goldengrove.”

“No, sister, I beg of you!” Thoren and the other men around him begged, their voices rising in a cacophony of panic.

But your expression turned frostbitten, and you regarded the men with a chilling finality. "And do not presume I have forgotten the vile rumors you spread about my children's legitimacy."

Aemond observed you with admiration, respect swelling within him as you seized control of the situation. The moment your eyes locked with his, he understood the silent command, the signal to act. Clearing his throat, he commanded, “Dracarys.”

In response, Vhagar unleashed a torrent of fire, roaring with fury as the flames enveloped the Rowan men, their terrified shrieks echoing through the vast fields of The Reach, and erasing the male line of House Rowan from existence.

As the smoke began to dissipate and the flames waned, you remained, an ethereal figure standing amidst the ash and remnants of destruction. A sweet smile graced your lips—a memory from his childhood, vivid and cherished, resurfacing in his mind like a long-lost song.

With a magnetic pull, Aemond moved towards you as if drawn by the siren call of your presence, oblivious to the world crumbling around him. You stood resolute, a beacon of strength and beauty. Finally, as he reached you, your delicate hand brushed against his scarred cheek, an intimate gesture that forced him to close his eye and lean into your tender touch. “I was wondering when you’d come for me, Lēkia,” you said softly, your voice like a gentle breeze amidst the ashes.

His heart swelled, and he leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss upon your palm. “You were expecting me,” he replied, his tone laced with wonder.

“Of course,” you replied with a teasing smile, the light in your eyes igniting a warmth within him that he thought was long gone.

With a deliberate slowness, you entwined your fingers with his and led him toward the opulent halls of Goldengrove’s palace, each step drew him deeper into the heart of the estate, much like a sailor lured by the enchanting call of a siren echoing from the depths of the sea.

The servants of Goldengrove shrank back at the sight of the One-Eyed Prince Regent, their expressions shifting to disbelief and dread as they recognized his formidable presence. Oblivious to their fear, you led him toward the sanctuary of your solar, a space filled with the warmth of flickering sunlight.

“Now, the question lingers: what shall you do now that you’ve arrived?” you purred softly, leaning against an intricately carved table, your heart quickening as Aemond advanced toward you, his movement both predatory and possessive.

“I think you know, Mandia,” he murmured, lowering his face until his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and tantalizing against your lips. “How I have yearned for this moment.”

“What moment do you speak of?” you breathed, barely able to contain the electricity crackling in the air between you.

“To finally taste you,” he replied, his voice a husky whisper, before closing the distance between you and bringing his lips to yours in a fervent kiss that ignited a wildfire within his soul.

Your lips were as sweet as they appeared, and Aemond felt his hand tighten possessively around your figure, surrendering to the primal urges that consumed him. His fingers explored your soft curves, gripping you gently yet firmly, eliciting a soft moan from your lips—a sound he swiftly took as his masterful invitation.

Aemond plunged into the depths of your mouth with his tongue, that fierce pleasure driving him onward. He knew at once you had indulged in lemon cakes, the remnants of their sweetness lingering. His tongue danced about the cavern of your mouth, searching hungrily, like a ravenous beast giving in to instinct, as you, too, welcomed his explorations with eagerness and fervor, your tongues entwining in a passionate dance.

Your hands instinctively found their way around his neck, drawing him closer as his rough hands roamed your body, grasping and squeezing with an insatiable hunger. A soft gasp escaped your lips when Aemond lifted you effortlessly, placing you upon the polished surface of the nearby table. The kiss broke, leaving you breathless, your cheeks flushed with heat as your heart raced, “What do you intend to do to me, Lēkia?”

Aemond’s breath came in heavy bursts, fueled by the desire of his cock that throbbed against the confines of his tight leather trousers. As he lifted the hem of your gown, revealing the delicate curves of your thighs, he spoke with a husky intensity, “I have savored your lips, and now I yearn to taste your cunt.”

A wanton moan escaped your throat at his words, succumbing to the heady thrill of surrender. He wasted no time, bunched your gown at your hips, and with a swift motion, he tore away your smallclothes, leaving you exposed to his ravenous gaze. Aemond’s eye, a vivid violet, widened in awe as they beheld your glistening and wet form, a sight that drove his desire deeper, hardening his erection further as he prepared to claim what was rightfully his.

Mouthwatering at the sight, Aemond was unable to resist sticking his face closer and inhaling you and the sweetest ambrosia he’s ever smelt. He adjusted himself in between your legs, bending down in front of you as he placed his lips right on your gleaming pearl.

“Yes, Lēkia!” you screamed almost squealing in shock. Aemond moaned in return, rutting his hips against the table beneath you.. Not wasting any time, he began to lick you from bottom to top, never touching your pearl after that first lick. Your hands reached once more into his long silver hair and directed him where you needed him most. Following your instructions, he allowed you to guide him, as to know the best way to please you.

Giving in, he finally started nibbling at your pearl, causing you to jerk up into him, trying to get more pressure. Not needing your instructions anymore, Aemond started devouring your cunt, giving most of his attention to your pearl but licking at your hole too. You could feel your peak start to bubble up inside you, that rising feeling inside your stomach letting you know you weren’t going to last much longer.

“I’m so close,” you moaned out, and Aemond was quick to remove his face from your pearl and replace it with his fingers as he spoke. The cool touch of his fingers was a shock to your system, your body jerking involuntarily.

“You want to come, Mandia. Go on then, peak on your Valonqar's tongue.” He almost ordered, placing his mouth around your pearl once more and sucking hard. His words and the suction on your pearl had you releasing immediately. Bucking hard against his face, blindly reaching for his hands to hold onto as you gave into the pleasure and moaned out his name.

“Too much,” you muttered after you came down from your peak, attempting to push him away. Aemond gave one last kiss to your pearl before standing up, his face covered in your glistening wetness. Grabbing his face, you pulled him toward your lips to taste yourself. Both moaning out at the perversity of it all as Aemond took that opportunity to once again stick his tongue in your mouth. Bringing you in closer as he tried to devour you, seemingly content to stay like this forever.

Taking advantage of the distraction he had with your tongue, your hands caressed his leather-clad chest, drifting down to his trousers and finally finding his erect cock. Feeling his hard length straining through was enough to ignore everything and focus on the way your cunt once again tingled in excitement, as your legs came to wrap around him, pulling his cock closer to your cunt.

“Do you wish to fuck your Rõva Mandia?" Groaning he involuntarily bucked his hips, causing you to arch and moan into his neck. His head was resting against your neck as well, holding you close to him in a very intimate embrace as you rolled your hips.

“Please,” Aemond barely whispered. Reaching your hands down, you hastily untied his laces as you grabbed his covered cock, stroking him before guiding him to your wet slit. Aemond released a groan as he felt your throbbing, tight cunt around him. Neither of you moved getting used to the overwhelming sensations stirring inside.

The feelings were so intense he thought he was going to release from just feeling you wrapped around his cock like a vice. In an attempt to distract himself, he started peppering small kisses on your neck. When Aemond – at last – buried himself to the hilt, he pulled his lips from yours and stared down at your face.

"I never could have imagined it would feel this way,” Aemond said in a strained voice. You let out a sweet laugh and he groaned, your cunt fluttering around him. He reached his free hand down and circled your pearl, letting small bits of pleasure seep through you.

He pulled out, leaving only the tip in, before pushing his cock back inside you. His eye widened and his breath vanished. Admittedly, Aemond was doing everything in his power not to thrust into your tight cunt. You were squeezing the life out of him and he just wanted to ravish you. Yet, Aemond reminded himself, you were not some random whore, no, you were his beloved sister.

Aemond continued thrusting into you slowly, one thumb still dangling over your pearl, as he eyed you. He carefully gauged your reaction, measuring each sigh and whimper from your lips. He took great pride in seeing the pleasure trickling into your eyes as he rocked his cock into you.

“Aemond!” you moaned, your head falling back against the table. Your cunt tightened and wetness flooded around Aemond's cock. You moaned again, and Aemond knew you were ready. He grinned, manic and excited, and pushed inside of you a bit harder, a bit deeper, and you loved it.

“Yes, Lēkia, right there,” you moaned as he fucked into you a bit faster. You knew he was holding himself back and you were thankful for that. His thrusts were rough and hard, but he cradled you carefully. His nails bit into your thighs gently as he grabbed your legs, spreading you wider so he could get deeper.

Your brother brought you so much pleasure that you couldn’t think of any words other than his name. You babbled it, along with a few expletives, about how much you wanted his cock, how you needed him, and eventually, how badly you needed to release.

Aemond wasn’t far behind you. Your tight, wet cunt was Heaven to him. You were a gift that no others could compare to. He wanted to sink himself so deeply into your body that he could never find the way out.

Aemond's breath caught in his throat as he noticed a damp patch on the fabric that veiled your breasts, his desire igniting. You opened your lilac eyes to find his gaze locked onto your chest, fixated as he rhythmically thrust into you.

Summoning all your strength, you pulled away from Aemond, your hands trembling as you expertly undid the ties at the front of your bodice, lowering your dress and liberating your breasts for his eager gaze.

"Take what you need from your Rõva Mandia," you moaned softly. The moment those words left your lips, something shifted in Aemond. He immediately dipped down, descending upon one of your nipples, his lips enveloping the hardening peak, teeth grazing teasingly as if he yearned to savor you completely. When he began to suck, a low groan escaped him as the sweet essence of his sister filled his mouth. After a moment, he switched to the other nipple, lavishing equal attention as he continued to drink from you.

Aemond eventually pulled away from between her breasts, mouth glistening with saliva and a few escaped beads of milk; licking the remnants away. Aemond released one of your thighs and pinched your pearl. He rubbed it furiously, daring you to release. His eyes were wild as he stared down at you, beautiful, throaty groans escaping his body.

“Cum for me, Mandia. Cum all over my cock, Ñuha jorrāelagon,” Aemond grunted. He tapped your pearl quickly, and with a shout of his name, you came all over him. Your body writhed with pleasure as whiteness blinded you. His name fell from your lips like a seductive mantra, and as he heard you cry out for him, Aemond came inside of you. He filled you with his seed, pumping himself slowly inside of you, as if to fill you to the brim.

With a deep sigh of utter exhaustion, Aemond sank against your chest, cautious not to crush you beneath him as he sought comfort among the softness of your breasts, recovering from the passionate lovemaking you had just shared. You lovingly combed your fingers through his silken hair, each stroke a tender caress that echoed your affection.

After a lingering moment, Aemond raised his head, his violet gaze locking onto yours, as he captured your lips once more in a fervent kiss.

When he finally drew back, his breath warm against your mouth, he murmured, "You shall accompany me back to King's Landing and take your place as my Queen."

A small smile graced your lips as you cupped his face with your hand, your touch gentle yet deliberate. "As you wish, Lēkia," you replied, pausing thoughtfully before adding, "Now, do you wish to meet my daughters?”

Aemond could only respond with a broad grin at your words, paying no mind to his softening cock still inside you.

As the echoes of your shared passion lingered in the air, you both took a moment to compose yourselves, the warmth of your reunion still glowing between you. You reached for Aemond's hand, and he clasped it eagerly, allowing you to guide him through the labyrinthine corridors adorned with intricate white stone.

Aemond's thoughts began to wander, drifting to your daughters—would their features reflect your beauty or the visage of your late husband? Perhaps a delicate blend of both? A pang of jealousy gnawed at him, a reminder that you would forever carry ties to a man who had once been a significant part of your life.

Yet, he swiftly reassured himself. He would cherish your daughters just as he cherished you. They were woven from your essence, and in his eyes, that already made them flawless. A gentle smile graced your lips as you led him into a sunroom, a sanctuary bathed in sunlight, where stained glass cast colorful patterns across the floor, and vivid bouquets of blossoms filled the air with sweet fragrance.

“Mama!” came the high-pitched voice of a little girl, breaking through Aemond’s reverie.

He looked down, a smile spreading across his face. But as his gaze fell upon the small figure before him, that smile faltered, his eye widening in surprise as he beheld a small girl with a cascade of silver hair—the complete counterpart of her mother’s rich auburn locks.

With gentle grace, you lowered yourself to scoop up the little one. Your daughter’s delicate silver locks were intricately woven into a braided crown, and she wore a regal purple gown that beautifully complemented her enchanting lilac eyes.

“Aemond, meet Elaena,” you introduced softly, your voice warm as your daughter peered up at him, a hint of shyness flickering across her face. “Elaena, this is your kepūs, Aemond.”

With a gentle nudge, you encouraged the girl to greet him, and she shyly waved her small hand from the safety of your embrace. Aemond’s heart softened at the sight, and a genuine smile broke across his features as he took Elaena’s tiny hand in his, pressing a soft kiss upon it. “Hello Elaena.”

Elaena stifled a soft giggle at Aemond's antics, her mirth spilling into the cozy air like sunlight filtering through the leaves. Just as you were about to respond to his playful tease, a plaintive cry shattered the tranquility that enveloped you. Turning your head, you carefully set Elaena down, and Aemond watched with rapt attention as you glided toward a nearby cradle, your smile radiating warmth as you leaned over the tiny bundle nestled there.

In that moment, Aemond understood that your babe had awoken to the sound of your voice, her cries a sweet summons for her mother’s embrace. He felt a surge of pride wash over him as you lifted your second daughter into your arms, her Targaryen silver hair gleaming like strands of moonlight.

With tender affection, you nuzzled the baby’s soft cheek, laughter bubbling forth as you said, “Has my little love finally awoken?” The baby responded with delighted coos, her tiny hands reaching out in eager recognition of her beloved Mama.

Aemond, entranced by the sight before him, felt a moment of stillness, the world around him fading into the background. Yet this reverie was soon interrupted by a gentle tug, pulling him back to reality. Glancing down, he found Elaena grasping the hem of his tunic, her arms reaching up to him, a beacon of innocence. A smile blossomed across his face as he swiftly bent down, cradling her in his arms. In an instant, she eagerly reached for his eye patch, prompting a chuckle to escape his lips at her curiosity.

With Elaena nestled securely against him, he approached you and the babbling babe, your brilliant smile illuminating the sun filled chamber. You gestured toward the child cradled in your arms. “This is Aelora,” you announced, your voice filled with pride.

Aelora babbled softly, her cherub face aglow with happiness as she settled back against you, content in her mother’s loving embrace. As Aemond stole a glance at you, with Elaena in his arms and Aelora wrapped in your tender care, a profound realization washed over him. Your daughters, with their shimmering silver tresses and purple gaze, could have been a perfect reflection of him.

In the tangled depths of his thoughts, it seemed as though you had fashioned a perfect little family just for him to claim. His two precious daughters and his beloved Rõva Mandia.

a/n | in my head, her name is aelyri in tribute of alicent's mother, alerie florent.

headcannon: she named elaena after helaena.

another headcannon: after coming back to king's landing, she realised goldengrove was the upgrade.

mandia - sister

rõva mandia - big sister

valonqar - little brother

lēkia - brother

ñuha jorrāelagon - my love

kēpus - uncle

Goldengrove

Aegarax

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #hotd #hotd fanfic #ewan mitchell #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut

1K notes · View notes

iwassupremacy · 5 months ago

Text

A lady’s pleasure

Jacaerys Valeryon x fem!reader

Summary: For Jace Sex was always just duty. Get naked, be careful but quick and produce an heir. But when Aegon once again provokes him by saying his nephew was unable to please his wife it bothered him. Perhaps his uncle was right? It never occurred to him to please you or himself for that matter. Now he’s determined to learn.

Warnings: husband!jace x wife!reader, nipple play, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), fingering

Please let me know if I missed anything

“You must certainly know how to make your lovely wife feel good. After all you are the crown prince, Jacaerys Valeryon. You must have her quivering and singing underneath you.”

“Aegon, stop it at once!” Alicent Hightower urged her oldest son with a firm voice.

“With what reason? Should he feel as if I am mocking him then it could only be because I am false. Am I false, nephew?”

Jace could only stare and listen to his uncle making cruel jokes right in his face. His hands were angrily balled into fists but he remained silence.

Denying Aegon the pleasure of starting a fight about his performance in the bedroom in front of their family and worse you.

You stayed just as quiet and unreadable as he himself did and for an unknown reason it made Jace feel insecure. Did he know how to make his wife feel good? How to please her needs? Or even his own?

For him the act of it was only ever a way of making a family and producing heirs. Participating in its activity purely out of desire never occurred to him for many reasons.

For once he was terribly afraid of fathering any bastard children since he very much knew how it could feel like.

Besides he saw in Aegon how the needless pleasures and suspensions of its houses could turn a man into a beast.

But he was also an unwanted participant of a conversation between his mother and ser Harwin Strong when he was a child and realised how incredibly unfair it was for women to be the only gender having to save themselves.

For those reasons and others he kept to himself. Besides he rarely felt the need to anyway.

“Jacaerys, my apologies. I sincerely hope, you are not taking any of his unfounded claims to heart. You must be aware of how he can get” she looked away from him and at her son instead “when he is drowning in his cups.” she now angrily frowned.

Jace only sighed. “Do not worry. You might remember that I grew up around his nagging. Therefore I am quite used to this behaviour of his.”

Later when the young prince and his family arrived back at Dragonstone he accompanied you to your chambers.

“See me tonight, my prince? I am in no mood to sleep alone these days.” You whispered, putting your hands on his face in a comforting manner.

It was rather obvious that you felt quite compassionate towards him after such an exhausting feast.

Jace smiled lightly and nodded. He felt grateful for having you. And if you were honest you were very grateful for having him as well.

“Let me quickly inform my mother and the guards about my presence in your chambers for the night and once it’s done and I am ready for bed time I will be with you, my lady.”

You bit your lower lip at the tingling feeling in your stomach. He had a way of making you feel like this.

“And stop addressing me as your prince, please. I am not saying I do not enjoy it or that it is not true, I am only reminding you that you are not obligated to refer to me in such formalities. Call me your husband or by my birth name.”

You girlishly giggled. “But you are addressing me as your lady as well, my prince.” No matter how many times he reminded you of this you simply liked teasing him.

“These two are not the same at all to me. But I shall refer to you differently if you wish it.” He smiled.

“Yes please, I wish it. And I will wait for you tonight, husband.”

Jace took a deep breath as he entered the throne room and found who he was looking for. His mother’s husband and his great uncle.

“Daemon.” He called across the room.

“Jacaerys. What brings you here at this late hour?”

The young man came to a halt his face turning a bright red giving his intent right away. Daemon still awaited for Rhaenyras son to voice it.

“I am here about the matters I was so” he swallowed thickly “rudely tormented about this afternoon.”

“Boy, do not let it get to your head. You are more a man than Alicents son could ever be. Both of then in fact.“ Daemon was quick to push Jaces pride.

“I appreciate the compliment. But I have to admit that I fear my uncle might have had a point. Though I do not desire to be anything like him I have to admit I don’t know much about“ he paused “a womans body.”

“So you came to me to ask for advice on these affairs?”

“I am afraid so.”

You were comfortably sitting in your bed waiting for your husband in the light of your many candles while reading a book about Aegon the conqueror and his sisters.

He was taking suspiciously long for simply informing his guards about his stay at your chambers but you let him be since even a gentleman like your husband was were allowed to have a wounded pride.

You carefully manoeuvred your body out of the huge bed which was nice and warm but felt a little lonely by yourself.

Your night gown was of a light blue and thin which was not an unconscious decision. You liked to be a little cold at night so you had a reason to ask for your husband’s embrace.

You carefully approached the big door of your room. You only wanted to peak. Maybe you could spot him coming for you down the hallway.

And just as you reached for the handle of your wooden door it opened and you were met with the dark brown eyes of your husband.

“Jacaerys~” you let out.

“My love” he whispered “I am terribly sorry to had you waiting for me too long. There were some urgent issues I had to discuss with Prince Daemon.”

This new nickname send shivers down your spine and for a second you could only stare at him before regaining confidence.

“It is quite alright. Come on in. I have warmed the bed for us.”

You took his hand in yours and lead him to the bed. Once you were there both of you stood on opposite sides of it. You couldn’t help but notice his staring. Especially of your upper region.

“Are you tired yet, my love?” He sheepishly asked.

“Not quite. Is there something you want to discuss with me, husband?” You innocently wondered resting your body with your hands on the bed and stretching your face in his direction, subconsciously biting your lips.

“First lesson, boy. Get her excited for it first.”

He only chuckled at that which made your stomach tingle again. “The way you’re asking me is almost tempting, my love.”

He did the same as you pushing his face and upper body in your direction until you could feel his warm breath fan over your face.

For several minutes the two of you just looked at each other from opposite sides of your bed and even though you didn’t say or do anything and he didn’t either your breath heaved.

The silence got interrupted by his chuckling again and then he touched your cheek with his right hand.

“Have I ever told you how incredibly beautiful you are?” he whispered to your lips. And then, only lightly and almost unnoticeable, he bit it. Barely scraping your lower lip with his teeth.

Your breath hitched. “You- you have. On our wedding night.”

“I remember. Almost two moons ago. I should have told you every single day since then and I shall tell you every single day from now on.” He pecked your cheek. “Come, my love. Lay down.”

You did as he asked you, crawling into the middle of the bed and lying down on your back. His stares burning in your skin.

This was so different from what you knew. So far you only ever got into bed, shared a kiss and did what had to be done.

Of course he was gentle and looked after your well being but it was still always quick and a little uncomfortable.

But this? This was exciting. This made you feel things. New things.

Once you were comfortable Jace climbed on top of you, settling between your legs.

He smiled at you brushing the strands of hair out of your face. “Are you alright?“

You brushed through his wild curls as well and muttered “of course.“

He leaned down to you his breath fanning your face once again. “Good. Tell me if anything changes.”

He leaned down to you and kissed you tenderly, his plush lips pressing against yours. Carefully you returned his gesture but he didn’t stop there as usual.

Suddenly you could feel his tongue brushing over your lips which made you tremble and remove yourself from him. “What-“

He didn’t let you finish. “Do you trust me, my love?” You quickly nodded your head.

“I shall lead you then. I have waisted far too many weeks keeping you dissatisfied. I plan on making up for my mistakes tonight.” He whispered to your ear.

“You don’t have to, dear husband. I am happy as is.” You whispered back.

“I most certainly have to. Let me do this please. I no longer desire to be mocked by my uncle and feel he is right. I shall have you quivering and singing underneath me.”

You couldn’t help but whimper at that.

“Second lesson. Worship her body. I mean kiss her, touch her, feel her up. Not only down under but everywhere. Even her tits. Especially her tits.“

“Jacaerys~”

“Call me Jace, my love. Everybody does so.” He breathed down your throat and kissed the lobe of your ear.

He started to scatter kisses all over your shoulder and the bending of your neck as well, going lower and lower.

Driven by the desperate need to hold onto something your hands went up into his hair and slightly pulled at his unkempt curls.

Your body was now acting on its own needs and without realising you threw your head back and pushed your hips up against him.

As a reaction to the friction he received from your movement Jace unwillingly bit into the softness of your cleavage.

You let out a surprised hiss and pulled on his hair even harder.

You lightly pulled his head back until he was looking at you through lewd eyes. Your pupils were slightly dilated and your eyes blown wide with wanton which only made him grin boyishly.

“Fuck. My apologies, my love. Seems like you will have to wear dresses with a rather high neckline for some time. I left quite the mark there.“ he chuckled.

Your walls clamped, your slick gushing out. You had never before seen him like this let alone heard him swear so freely.

Without a second thought you pulled him down again and kissed his lips. Once again he was licking your lower lip but this time you didn’t pull away,

Instead you opened your mouth granting him entry.

His tongue found yours quickly, circling and sucking it. It practically had you rolling your hips and this time Jace pushed back, accommodating his rhythm to yours until the two of you were mindlessly grinding against each other while your tongues were almost doing the same.

One of his hands was resting next to your head, holding your face while he held his weight up on his arm. The other hand was brushing your sensitive skin with his fingertips, sometimes tickling a little.

Until this hand finally had a purpose when it wandered straight to your breast. Your mounds were hardened, peaking through the thin layer of clothing

Jace tested the waters by only gingerly pinching one of them. When you broke the kiss to push your head back into the pillow and softly moan he immediately twisted and pinched a little harder which resulted in your eyes squinting and your hips stuttering.

Jace bit his swollen lip and groaned at the sight before him. How could he have possibly missed out on this up to now?

He let go of your breast and stopped his movements all together. Your eyes opened and when you saw him grinning down at you with a raised brow, you blushed and tried to look away.

But he didn’t let you and instead used his now free hand to grab your chin and make you look at him.

His stare was stern and intense and you were struggling with holding it but you didn’t look away this time.

“I would like to undress you now if that is okay with you.“ he said while caressing your skin and hair.

You nodded. You always liked your husband, even back when he was only one of many suitors you long preferred him over anybody else but this night might just make you fall in love with him.

“Yes, Jacaerys, it is more than okay for me.“

His hands let go of you as he sat up on his knees to balance himself and they now grabbed the inside of your thighs which made you gasp and close them.

You looked at him through apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, my prince.”

He raised his brows. “Do not apologise or call me your prince. What is the matter, my love? It is not as if I have never touched or seen what hides between your thighs before.“

You blushed and looked away. “I know you have. But this- this is so… different-“ you stuttered quietly.

“How so?“ he wondered and you just knew he was being ignorant. He knew, he only wanted you to tell him.

You whined, pouting a little and looking back at him through innocent eyes but when he did not budge you sighed.

“Because this is more intense. More intimate.“ your face was burning up so much you had no desire to know how you looked like right now.

For Jace on the other hand you looked really adorable right now. He chuckled, freeing you from your suffering. “I see. Shall I undress first then?“

You only nodded and looked him up and down which made you realise something you payed no attention to so far. He was still wearing what he wore to the feast.

“You’re not wearing anything fitting for the bed.“ you noticed, brushing over his tunic.

“I was not planning on wearing anything when I sleep over at your chambers tonight, my love.“

Your breath instantly hitched. He was panning for this?

Carefully you tucked at his tunic. “Take it off. Jace~ please.”

He only slowly started to unbuckle the belt around his waist, unbuttoning his tunic even slower.

You whined. “Stop being a tease~ please.”

He smirked and got out of bed and up entirely brushing his tunic off his shoulders.

You sat up and stared at him through blown eyes. It was not as if you had never seen his body before but you had never mustered him so extensively.

His skin was tanned and his shoulders broad. His chest was beautifully shaped and there was a little line of hair going down to where his sex was.

Your eyes wandered up to his meeting his intense stare once again and it made a shiver run down your spine.

Jaces big hands went to his trousers and just as before he removed them tauntingly slow.

You whined again, this time louder. “I told you not to be a tease!”

Without another word he let his trousers fall to the ground and your eyes automatically shot down again. He was simply perfect.

It was standing up, touching Jace’s stomach. Tip colored in a dark red color and leaking and it made you feel almost proud.

Naked and as the gods formed him Jace stood before your bed still staring down at your small frame.

Your legs were angled up, your knees touching your chest while you rested all of your weight on your palms.

“You cannot tell me what to do or not do, dear wife. I am your husband after all.” He reminded you, getting your attention again and though you knew he didn’t mean it, you frowned, feeling sorry.

Without another word he nakedly climbed on the bed, crawling towards you.

Once he was face to face with you smiled again as he did too.

“So I” he kissed your forehead “can only tell you what to do.”

Your eyes closed at the touch of his lips with your head. “What shall I do, my love?” you whispered, your hand touching his chest, caressing his defined muscles.

Jace groaned at you using this nickname as well and your touch and harshly pressed his lips against yours.

Again your hand went in his hair straight away, brushing it out of his face, clinging to it.

He moaned to your lips. “I love it when you do that. Keep your hands in my hair, love. Do not remove them, no matter what.”

“Third lesson. Use your tongue on her, boy. Eat her cunt like a man starved. Women do love that.“

Finally he took your night gown in his hands and pulled it over your head in a swift movement.

Without shame he starred at you, his hands squeezing your breast which made you whimper and lay back down.

“I should have appreciated your body much sooner. Only ever doing what was necessary. My poor, poor lady wife. Must have felt so frustrated and unsatisfied.”

He openly mocked you and all you could get out was a pathetic whimper.

“All of it will end tonight.” he whispered in your ear, biting the lope.

Without realizing your thighs spread wider at his action and you pulled his hair. “Jace~”

Jacaerys looked down at your legs, biting his lips and smirking at your subconscious reaction. “You are the most perfect woman I have ever laid eyes upon. I dare even say the most perfect human.”

“Jacaerys, please.” You pleadingly looked at him through blown eyes. “T-touch me.”

Your face became of a deep red color but you still held his intense stare. You couldn’t quite believe what you had just asked of him. No woman of your class should ever beg for such lewd doings.

Or even desire them at all.

Jace could do nothing but chuckle at your embarrassed face and take it in his hand “Where do you desire my touch the most, my love?”

“Perhaps” he whispered “here?” His thumb lightly brushed over your bottom lip.

“Or maybe” his fingertips tickled your neck and down your shoulder to your hand “here?”

Softly he took your hand in his.

And then suddenly not so soft anymore he pinned it over your head, down onto the mattress which made you yelp in shock.

“Perhaps you don’t even want me to touch you with my hands at all? Would you rather I use my mouth, my love?”

Your eyebrows knitted and right when you wanted to ask him about the meaning behind his questions his mouth went straight down to your breast.

Your back arched when you gasped and tried to pull his head away with your hand that had remained in his hair.

“Oh~” you sighed, having no other choice than finally relaxing at his touch when he didn’t move away.

He licked and bit your mound, sometimes even sucking as if he were a babe.

Oddly enough it felt amazing and you couldn’t stop arching into him and letting out shallow breaths.

“Fuck~ so sensitive here, my love. Perhaps someday I could make you cum just by paying attention to your tits.”

You gasped at his vulgarity, it made you shiver and pull his head up to look at him. “Fuck~ never stop pushing and pulling my hair.”

You giggled girlishly and brushed through his wild curls. “I would never.”

Quickly he got back to his work but this time switched sides, paying attention to your other mound until your loud breathing turned into whining from all the soreness.

Once again he switched sides, teasing and testing you and never touching down were you needed him most.

Not even when you started to push your hips up, desperately trying to get some friction. “Jace~ enough, please. ‘m s-so sore.”

He detached himself and stared for a few seconds as if in awe, lightly biting it one last time, making you whimper.

Without another word he spread your legs as far as he could to comfortably settling between them and kissed his way from your stomach down.

Every once in a while he bit your skin which had you squirming in anticipation. He certainly knew how to take his time.

When he finally was eye level with your core, he didn’t came to a halt and instead started to kiss down your inner thighs as well.

“Jace~ my love, please. Please do not do this to me. You are being mean. I- I need your touch. Please.”

You panted, trying to pull him up by his hair, not caring about any decency anymore.

“So impatient. Do you not want me to enjoy this as well as you?” He said, his hot breath hitting your wetness while talking, making you gasp.

You quickly nodded “Yes, of course I want you to enjoy yourself.”

“Very well.” He mumbled, distracted by the sight in front of his eyes. “But I won’t make you wait any longer.”

He sticked out his tongue, flattening it and then took a long lick up your cunt, now having eye contact with you.

“Oh~ Gods~“ you moaned, arching your back. “What-“

“I need you to relax, my love. I promise you will like it.” he murmured against your core. His hot breath making you shudder.

“I- I already liked it. It was only much of an sur- OH” he experimentally sucked on your little bundle of nerves he so far had barely touched before, rudely interrupting you and making you yelp.

Your hand that was still im his hair gripped it tightly, making him groan in the process. The vibration of it got you to clench your thighs around his head.

“Respectfully. You talk too much.” he murmured once again. “Simply enjoy.”

You pathetically whimpered, not mustering any more than a nod. He could only smile at that.

He licked with his tongue again, circling your clitoris with it. Your breath fastened, free hand desperately searching for something to hold onto as well.

Silently Jace took it in his, squeezing lightly. He didn’t part from your core though, still feasting on you as if you were his most favorite meal.

You imagined your slick to be smeared across his chin and lips by now and it made you embarrassed and excited all the same.

Suddenly grabbed your thighs, putting your legs on his shoulders, your feet touching his back. His hands now holding your hips.

Your again free hand went up, fisting the cover of the cushion. His tongue was now flicking your bud in a fast motion.

You couldn’t help but stretch your lower half in the air, putting it right in his face. “Jace~”

His name left your lips like a prayer. Whispered, moaned, whined and whimpered. Your eyes wandered down, meeting his intense stare.

And then one of his hands left your hip, brushing the inside of your thigh. While he was still sucking at you, two of his fingers were now prodding at your entrance.

You gasped “Jacaerys- what-“ but he again interrupted you this time by pushing his fingers in, your walls welcoming them.

“So wet and warm. Tell me how you are feeling, my love.” He now parted from you, messily cleaning his face with the back of his other hand.

All the while his fingers were moving slowly in and out of you, making it hard to answer properly. “Good~ oh I~ I feel good.”

His previous cleaning was to no use when he simply chuckled and dived right back in getting back to work immediately.

It was as if he could not get enough of it.

“Fourth lesson, the most important one, you cannot and will not enter her before she isn’t as slick as a snail. Best if you have her finish at least once before you even attempt to your own pleasure.”

His fingers were moving at a rapid pace now, keeping a steady rhythm with his tongue, making you wonder if it wasn’t tiring for his muscles.

But you couldn’t really worry about that, your head being to full of Jace. His scent, his body against yours, his hair tingling your thighs.

Out of reflex you brushed it out of his face, his wild curls stickig to his forehead and neck.

Suddenly your entire body tightened when he hit a special spot inside of you. You moaned loudly “Jace~ stop it.”

But he didn’t. Instead he looked at you through thick lashes, fingers curling and massage said spot, mouth sucking.

“Jacaerys. Please~ hah” you were now trying to crawl away from him, his hand moving across your stomach, pinning your hip down as good as he could.

“I feel weird. Let us take a break OH GODS” your legs practically suffocated him, squeezing his head. Again he did not stop, still looking at you.

You were wondering if perhaps he was searching for any actual discomfort on your part, because even though you were begging him to stop you also felt you might cry if he actually did.

A strange sensation was building up inside you, stomach tingling, muscles tightening and most importantly your core was almost itching.

It felt as if you needed to get rid of this itch, grinding up on him to soothe the feeling.

“Your cunt is clenching so much, I have trouble believing you want me to stop.” Jace whispered against your core.

You couldn’t even answer, only violently shaking your head and welcoming the relieving feeling that washed over you.

You were whining so loud, you wondered if everyone could hear but you did not care. The only thing you cared about was him. Between your legs. Making you feel things you had never felt before.

And then it was all over. Your back arched one last time, thighs squeezing your husband incredibly tight. A wave of pleasure washing from your head down through your body to your tows.

Pretty much immediately it was all too much. His touch was now burning and you were practically pushing his head away.

“S’ too much.” You slurred. Your eyes were heavy, as was your breathing. Your legs now felt sore and weak.

Carefully Jace took them in his hands, removing them from his shoulders. He gently put them down on the mattress, coming up to you.

When he was eye level with you, he took in your figure. You seemed quite overwhelmed, one hand still very loose in his hair, which he also carefully removed, holding it in his hands.

Your other arm was hanging over your forehead and closed eyes. Your face was flushed and Jace couldn’t help but grin.

“How are you feeling, my love?” he whispered, pecking your lips. Weakly you returned his favor.

“Quite well I think.” you laughed breathlessly. “Tank you.”

Jace could only chuckle at you for thanking him. “Feels good, does it not? Have I never had you do that before?” he asked, a frown adorning his face.

Your face was flushed, cheeks red and breath still heavy. “Do what?”

He shaked his head the tiniest bit almost unnoticeable. “Finish. Have I never had you finish before?”

“I- I am unsure of it. So far I was not told a woman could even do that, my love.” you admitted lowering your arm and looking at him “Is that offensive to you?”

“No! Gods no. It should be to you. I have been ignoring your needs.”

“I was not aware I had those needs, Jace. Do not beat you up on it. I beg you.” You lifted your head up, looking in his saddened eyes.

“Which was my fault. I should have introduced you to all the good sides of a marriage. I failed. My uncle-“

“Your uncle is a drunken fool.” You interrupted his doubting “I doubt he has ever done to any Lady what you have done for me tonight. He has a loud mouth, I believe most of his talk is untrue.”

One of your hands brushed through his hair, stroking his cheek while the other held your weight up.

“Besides I decide whether or not you are a good husband and I decide that you are. I am content, I am happy, Jacaerys, I am pleased.”

Slowly you got fully up, pushing him down by his chest, swinging a leg over him and putting your weight on his thighs.

“What exactly are you doing?” your husband wondered, his hands automatically grabbing your hips.

Without answering you took his sex in your hand and slowly stroked it. “Ohh~ oh gods. What-“

“I am returning the favor, my love.”

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys valeryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen #hotd jacaerys #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys smut #hotd smut #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #smut #got smut

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swordgrace · 4 months ago

Text

𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

༺ aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

synopsis: in aemond targaryen’s eyes, you have far exceeded anything that he could’ve imagined. during a moment of solace, you indulge in the prince’s growing affections.

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༺ FORMAT: one-shot — not requested.

༺ WORD COUNT: 7.1K.

༺ WARNINGS: SMUT, oral sex (f!receiving), p in v sex (unprotected), multiple positions, biting, scratching, switch!aemond, fingering (f!receiving), groping, lots of kissing, hair pulling, vulnerable aemond, melancholy aftercare, slight power imbalance, possessive aemond, talk of insecurities, begging, etc.

༺ AUTHOR’S NOTE: finally ,,, an aemond fic! I am currently looking for requests for this account, and hopefully this is a good showcase in terms of getting people interested! This was so fun to write and helped me get into the Aemond headspace, I so look forward to sharing more of my work with all of you!

𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐊 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 the skies over King’s Landing, bringing with it a sense of wariness and discomfort. Rumors and whispers grew of an approaching war between Rhaenyra Targaryen and King Aegon Targaryen — a war between kin that would surely plunge the realm into a great darkness.

Bloodshed and the mere thought of violence caused you to shiver, goosebumps prickling along the length of your spine. The evening was a touch colder, the air bitter and misty with the first inklings of a nighttime deluge. Raindrops smashed into the courtyard, against the castle walls in a steady sheet.

Sworn to serve Lady Alicent Hightower, the dowager Queen, she had dismissed you quite suddenly, citing that she preferred to be left alone this evening. You found it intriguing that Ser Criston Cole so vigilantly guarded the former Queen’s chambers with wandering eyes, but it was none of your business.

The halls of the Red Keep were warm with the glow of torchlight amongst the illumination of the moon, clouds bringing down rain and the low rumble of thunder. You were prepared to make the venture down to the Servant’s Quarters, until you were stopped by a guard somewhere down the corridor.

“My Lady,” One of the Kingsguard, Ser Cargyll, addressed you nobly, even if you were just a handmaiden. “The Prince Aemond is searching for you. He is requesting your presence.”

Prince Aemond — a name not unfamiliar to you.

You felt the subtle hitch within the depths of your throat at the mention of Aemond Targaryen. The Prince was rather acquainted with you, in ways that many would consider uncouth and sinful, but it was a budding relationship. If anything, you found him to be a being of mystique and repression, in your experience.

Under the guise of mere duty, you nodded, curtsying before Ser Cargyll. “Thank you, Ser. I will make my way to his chambers.” You kept your voice hushed, ensuring an air of respect for those who slumbered within the Keep’s walls.

Carrying bundles of fresh linens within your arms, you made your way to the Prince’s quarters, a path that you were somewhat familiar with. Your encounters with Aemond weren’t often, but whenever they did occur, it filled you with a certain thrill and exhilaration. You never imagined yourself to be desirable, the object of a Prince’s infatuations, yet here you were.

A sharp clap of thunder caused you to gasp, nearly losing your footing as you traversed through the darkened corridors, passing by the occasional fellow servant or patrolling knight. Something about this night felt unusual — as if there was an ominous presence lingering around the corner.

Thunderstorms had a horrible habit of making you incredibly paranoid — tonight was no different, it seemed. With a deliberate pace, you ascended the grand flight of steps toward Aemond’s chambers, noticing the lack of protection outside. The Prince wasn’t fond of being hovered over, a notion that you could understand.

The set of ornate, mahogany doors were equipped with iron knobs fashioned into the heads of dragons — quite fitting, considering his heritage. You knocked thrice, stepping back as you waited for the Prince himself, or his summons.

With bated breath, you wrung your digits into the silk and linens clutched within your arms, awaiting the Prince to allow you inside. The suspense was nearly unbearable — sometimes he called you inside, and other times, he greeted you himself with a sly curl of his mouth and that glittering, violet eye of his.

To your delight, the door creaked open, groaning in protest as Aemond stood within the gap, regal and svelte in his leather tunic and fine regalia. His hand perched along the edge of the door, lips tilting into that familiar countenance of his — cunning yet tinged with faint hints of amusement.

“My Lady,” Aemond’s voice was a lull, like the purr of a great cat as he beckoned you inside. He cared little for prying eyes, allowing you to step into the warmth of his open chambers before he latched the door behind him. “You came rather swiftly.” He stated — a mere observation, but it was most accurate.

“Is this not an urgent matter?” To keep appearances, you sometimes asked redundant questions — but Aemond enjoyed them nonetheless. He let out a brief hum, violet hue raking over you as it had several times before. There was something reverent there, a silent appreciation that happened to scream if someone looked close enough.

With a brief hum of amusement, Aemond ogled you, head canting slightly to one side. Blackfyre sat soundly atop his hip, bound in the finest sheath and belt that hung atop his narrow waist. “I suppose not,” He reached out, gently swiping his fingers across your jaw. “I merely wanted to see you.”

Warmth fluttered within your breast, spreading like ivy across the rest of your body. The bulk of the heat settled within your features as you struggled to maintain your composure. “And I you, my Prince.” It was enough to make Aemond’s stare sparkle. “Any word on what will come of the growing conflict?”

Aemond stepped toward the large table, scattered in maps and scrolls, the largest of it being a cartographic description of Westeros. Coins were scattered atop it, meant to resemble garrisons of their forces. “Not yet.” He replied, circling the table before he looked at you. “It is hard to plan for a war that you’ve no counsel in.”

From what Aemond had told you during previous trysts, he was not on the small council — and his brother, the King, seemed more content on drinking and letting others run his kingdom for him. A piece of Aemond spited Aegon for this, for his lack of propriety and sense of duty.

The Prince’s woes weren’t unfamiliar to you. In fact, he had placed his head within your lap and recounted the multitude of misfortunes that had befallen him on many occasions before he had any desire to touch you. Perhaps it was this gesture that had given your budding relationship such a firm foundation.

War was on the horizon, and Aegon hadn’t the slightest clue of what to do — which left Aemond to stew and plot away, to strategize where there wasn’t any inkling of it. It would always fall upon him, the more responsible sibling.

You trailed after him, curious to see such a large map of the continent. If anything, you were more perplexed by the different kingdoms and sigils on coins than the war. “You mean to strategize without the King?” You inquired, noticing the scoff that emerged from Aemond.

“It is nothing new. I only wish to serve the King and my house.” He replied, expression becoming pensive before he sank down into the cushioned armchair, the one placed before his sea of maps and books. Candles danced atop the table, listless and bright.

Aemond was a learned individual, with a thirst for books and tomes, alongside the blade. You admired his desire for more, his desire for knowledge. There was a stark duality to Aemond that you had caught glimpses of during the course of your endeavors — from sharp and cold, like steel, to a hint of warmth.

The Prince’s chambers were spacious, surrounded by an ocean of quiet, with a high terrace and an open wall. You watched as the rain fell, providing a gentle ambiance to your surroundings. A flash of lightning split the sky, and the thunderous gloom of the night raged on.

With a soft exhale, you approached the terrace, lined in a thick bannister and a row of columns. If you extended your hand out far enough, you could catch the rain, feeling the chill of the droplets glide across your palm. It was soothing, enough to ease the heat that had made permanent residence within your skin.

In silent rapture, Aemond watched you carefully, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The glow of moonlight framed your features in silver, accompanied by the twinge of orange — it made you look like a goddess, a beauty incarnate standing before him. His fingers tensed into the arm of his chair, desire beginning to fester inside of him.

Initially, he thought little of you — the lowborn girl that dutifully served his mother, yet the night you’d found him strewn about in his quarters, wounded and wistful, he’d changed his mind. Aemond fell swiftly, and he fell hard — many nights were spent with you in his bed, his head within your lap. It inevitably transformed into desire and the first blossoming of affection.

“Thunderstorms used to terrify me as a child,” You broke the silence, recoiling until your palm was pressed close to your chest. “Now, they seem to make everything ominous, as if there is a lingering dread.” You let out a chuckle, seemingly embarrassed. “It isn’t much different than being afraid.”

Aemond tucked a hand beneath his chin, leaning some of his weight against it as he listened to you. “What do you fear, my Lady?” He questioned, as if attempting to pick you apart, crawl beneath your flesh. You enticed him, evoked a sense of intrigue that he seldom felt in the presence of noble women.

A rather heavy question, but you decided to answer honestly, depositing the stack of linens onto the lounge in front of you. “Being locked away in a cage, perhaps the darkness.” You trailed off. “War.” You grimaced, gaze flickering toward the map on his table yet again.

You always feared war more than anything — it always brought worse things with it. Bloodshed, famine, death, the feeling of no sanctuary or peace.

With a soft huff, Aemond’s violet eye flickered away from you and to his map, surveying his growing plan for any imperfections. He remained quiet for a moment, and decided that he had little desire to talk to you on the topic of war — not when there were plenty of other things he could do.

“War is inevitable, like so many other things in life,” Aemond’s voice carried an indiscernible edge to it. After a brief pause, he continued. “I would keep you safe.” Sometimes, you had difficulty detecting sincerity with the Prince, but you could see it now, even if it was subtle.

If it was meant to be a flattering or sentimental statement, it happened to work, prompting you to dip your head. Sheepishness settled into your features, causing you to tether your hands together. “You honor me, my Prince. I did not know that the life of a handmaiden meant something to you.”

At last, his head angled toward you, lilac hue dancing with light as he leaned back within his chair, the wood groaning in protest. “Come here.” He waved you forward with a flick of his fingers, desiring to feel your warmth, be close to you. Aemond’s lust for you was subtle, but when it sparked to life, it burned like a dragon’s fire.

Your heartbeat fluttered like the wings of a bird, stirring beneath your breast as you obeyed the Prince’s command. Stepping closer, you felt Aemond’s hand trace the swell of your hip, coaxing you into his lap. Without a word, he rested his cheek against your sternum, feeling your fingers rake through his silken tresses.

“Your life is worth a great deal.” Aemond stated, breath fanning out across your collarbone. The Prince savored the sensation of your soft flesh beneath him, heart loud enough to ring within his ears as he pressed close to your chest. Wordlessly, he planted a kiss against the column of your throat.

A shiver rolled down your spine, a sensation that left you aching for more. You never imagined yourself becoming the object of the Prince’s affections, enough for him to state that your life had meaning beyond the station of a servant. “Then it is a mutual feeling.” You uttered, nails lightly scraping against the nape of his neck.

Aemond had often been deprived of affection — even in his dealings with whores, it was originally Aegon’s design, his will enforced. There was no shared connection with a woman seeking coin and a boy, barely thirteen. He preferred you above all else, warm and tender within his grasp, with no desire to use him to further your station.

He used to believe that the only solace he could find was in himself — until he began seeking you out.

What originally began as an arrangement of convenience, purely lust and instinct, had now spiraled into something more. He shared his past with you, treated you to the inner machinations of his splintered family, and in rare instances, became quite vulnerable. Sentiments be damned, Aemond was beginning to feel affectionate towards you.

The growing connection he shared with you, albeit unorthodox and unexpected, outweighed any previous experience he had. You were his — a precious creature that he intended on savoring forever, if he could. Not many would approve of his hunger for a lowborn girl, but Aemond cared little for it.

Above all, known or unknown, he wanted your love.

Aemond’s lilac eye drifted to your visage, drinking you in as he had many times before. The way you cradled his skull within your hand, your other palm planted firmly against his chest — it was intoxicating. He sank closer, finding comfort in your warmth.

He listened to your heart — the way it excitedly galloped for him, pounded within his ear like the deep lull of a drum. The Prince kissed your collarbone, shifting some of your robes away to reveal the soft expanse of your skin. Perhaps, he hadn’t made it known, but you belonged to him — it would stay that way.

A slight chill caused you to press closer, seeking the warmth of the Dragon Prince. Rain continued to pour outside, with thunder rattling the black, cloudy skies, as powerful as a dragon’s cry. Your hand found his shoulder, digits gently massaging into the broad, sinewy muscle of his clothed shoulder.

The sharp ridge of his nose brushed along your neck, lips following suit as he planted several deliberate kisses against your jugular; underneath your jaw. “Cold?” Aemond inquired, able to feel the icy bite of your flesh as it brushed against his. He felt you shudder — but he wondered if that was from something else.

“Slightly, my Prince.” You confessed, though your body’s physical responses were from his lips, in-tandem with the misty chill from the thunderstorm. The flicker of candlelight danced across his features — narrow and defined, beautiful beyond comparison.

“Hm,” Aemond hummed, dragging his lips around the curve of your jawline, pressing another kiss beneath your ear. His scent filled your nose — spiced herbs, smoke and leather, intermingled with that of a dragon. “Shall I remedy this misfortune?” He uttered, his voice crackling with desire.

He nearly smirked at the sound of your breath hitching within your throat — a delicious response to his shameless flirtation. Aemond’s hand crawled along the length of your leg, grabbing at the end of your robes before slipping underneath. His narrow digits danced along your calf, before finding the pliant meat of your thigh.

“Aemond,” You whispered, shifting within his lap as the Prince continued to kiss your neck. The garment you wore was shoddy and somewhat ill-fitting, and you longed to have it removed. You pressed a kiss against his brow, the one that had the beginnings of a scar. “Please.”

The sensation of your lips against his scar nearly drove him into a frenzy — it did the last time you coupled. Aemond let out a brief huff, detaching his mouth from your throat as he hungrily sought your lips. The kiss was overflowing with desire, his hand slithering against your inner thigh.

His slender digits found the apex between your thighs, swiping over the slick heat of your cunt. It was feather-light and tantalizing, meant to make you squirm, a promise of more to come throughout your night together. You whimpered, feeling his thumb ghost around your clit, splitting past your folds.

You reciprocated the kiss with a flurry of passion, tilting your hips forward toward Aemond’s hand. The playful curve of his mouth was tangible as you kissed him again, reaching to cup his face. The pad of your thumb traced along his cheekbone, feeling his teeth graze along your lower lip.

Aemond shivered beneath your palm, finding the sensation of it to be foreign, yet comforting all the same. He hadn’t removed his eyepatch before, during your previous trysts — the thought of you seeing it somewhat unnerved him. It was often used for intimidation, to terrify others into subservience, but it wasn’t like that with you.

As you pulled your head back just slightly, you pressed a tender kiss against Aemond’s jaw, and then against his cheek — another secured itself atop his eyepatch. You felt the Prince’s breath hitch, a subtle noise that left you wanting more.

His hand stilled between your legs, the other holding just underneath your breast. “It would be unwise to remove it.” Aemond uttered, voice as smooth as silk, and just as tantalizing. There was something forlorn about him, as if he were afraid of you glimpsing upon his face.

“I would never insist upon it, Aemond. Just know that I would never pass judgment,” You replied, tucking several strands of pale, silky hair aside. “You are still just as handsome, just as perfect.” Your soft-spoken reassurance made him flustered, yet he was unwilling to reveal that side of himself.

Admittedly, he considered taking it off then, but he decided against it, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist. Your hand drifted to the front of his tunic, lined in an impressive array of metallic buttons, bearing the Targaryen sigil. Aemond found your sentiments to be sweet — just like the rest of you.

Wordlessly, the one-eyed Prince coaxed you to your feet, bringing you toward the roaring hearth, beside the light of a crackling fire. The ground beneath you was covered in the layered pelts of various game, from stags to the thick hide of a bear, cushioned enough to provide a safe landing for the both of you.

Aemond towered over you, svelte and broad-shouldered, hand coming to cup your chin as he kissed you. It was slow and unusually sweet, but much to your disappointment, it was short-lived. His hands moved to the front of your robes, tugging at the rugged laces to loosen the bodice.

He watched you hawkishly, enraptured as the both of you maneuvered the shoddy fabric aside. You pulled it over your head, tossing the garment somewhere behind you. It landed on the stone floor with an unceremonious thud, leaving you bare before the Prince.

It was an exchange, one that Aemond silently complied with as he peeled aside his own tunic, lips twitching into a smirk as you pushed away the leather and fine linen of his undershirt. He was all sinewy muscle and narrow limbs, with a pale musculature that seemed to glow whenever the light touched it.

The both of you gazed at one another, your breathing significantly more labored than his own. Your excitement was palpable, the anticipation stirring within your stomach as arousal pooled between your legs. Aemond hungrily consumed your mouth in a blistering kiss, hands grabbing at your hips and chest.

You reached for his shoulders, arms tossing themselves around the back of his neck, digits raking through his hair. Aemond’s tongue greedily slipped past your parted lips, allowing you to taste him. A low hum of approval rumbled within his throat as you submitted to him, chest blossoming with warmth.

It was all tongue and teeth and want — a dance that finally gave way to carnal desire and primitive instincts. You felt Aemond’s hand grope at your haunch, feeling your pliant flesh as he nipped at your lower lip. The flame of desire glistened within his lilac hue.

“Lie down,” Aemond uttered, his voice becoming a touch gravelly, saturated with lust. He watched as you obeyed, sinking down onto the furs with a flustered expression. He stood over you, reveling in the sight of your body, kissed by fire, legs pulled up at the knee. “You are perfect.”

Perfect — you shuddered, stomach churning with liquid heat as you propped yourself back upon your elbows, palms idly running across the soft furs. Aemond sank down, pressing a hot, needy kiss to your lips before he knelt between your thighs, mouth hungrily returning to your throat.

“Aemond,” You moaned, the noise soft and simpering as he assaulted your neck in passionate kisses. Teeth and tongue worked together, leaving behind a handful of marks, some glaringly obvious. He continued his descent, kissing your collarbone, and then your breast. “Please keep going.” A breathy whine left you, then.

His lips twitched into a smirk as he planted a series of hot kisses around your breast, the other palm preoccupied with groping and kneading into the soft flesh there. Aemond felt your body arch into him, knees squeezing at his narrow hips.

With a stroke of his tongue, the Prince began to suck at the peak of your breast, nose brushing along your sternum. The heat from the flame crawled across your body, leaving you feverishly hot. Aemond’s actions did little to soothe it, igniting the fire within your belly.

Your hands flew toward his crown of pale tresses, digits digging in toward the nape of his neck. The furs brushed against your back as you reclined, stealing glimpses at Aemond, who methodically and reverently worked his way along your body.

“Ao sytilībagon naejot nyke,” Aemond purred, sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh below your breast, as if to ensure his point was made. That singular lilac hue caught your heady gaze, prompting him to continue his descent. He abandoned your breast with a lasting kiss, mouth traveling along your stomach and hips. “Ñuhon.”

Listening to Aemond’s enchanting High Valyrian made you shudder, allowing it to encompass you. His voice was nothing more than a lascivious purr, meant to entice and tempt you — you were beyond elated to oblige. You watched with doe-like eyes as Aemond kissed your waist, and then your thighs.

His incendiary stare never faltered, and as he pushed his shoulders between your legs, he held it throughout. Aemond listened to the delicious hitch within your throat, the way you preemptively curled your nails into his shoulders — it was intoxicating.

In an unexpected maneuver, Aemond gingerly abandoned the fine leather of his eyepatch, revealing the glistening, sapphire eye, marred-over with an age-old scar. You were dazzled, perplexed by his beauty and the vibrant gleam of the jewel that was permanently socketed into his eye.

As a display of reassurance, your fingers crept from his shoulder to his face, gingerly tracing around his countenance, from eyebrow to cheekbone. Aemond’s subtle exhale of delight signaled his approval, and without warning, he raked his tongue across your cunt.

Your lips fell apart, unable to smother the pleasured whine that escaped you. His tongue raked hot embers across your aching core, delivering a series of deliberate strokes that were sure to make you squirm. Aemond preferred to savor you, consuming every drop of your nectar as if it were the finest of wines.

Those dextrous, spindly hands of his found the pliant flesh of your thighs, hooking underneath to provide a place of rest for your legs. He squeezed slightly, signaling his presence there as he pressed forward. His mouth greedily lapped at your cunt, gliding from the hood of your clit to your entrance.

“Aemond!” A wanton moan tore past your lips, back beginning to arch into his ministrations. The Prince slowed, sharp nose brushing against your mouth as he dipped forward, tongue briefly pushing inside of you. The subtle sensation made you whine, nails dragging themselves across his shoulder.

You were perfect — flesh velveteen beneath his palms, physique begging for more, your pleasure coming to fruition. You were at his mercy, but fortunately, Aemond was feeling most gracious this evening. The echo of the thunderstorm shook the walls a time or two, but it all became atmospheric, simply background noise.

With one hand fisted within his platinum tresses, the other scratched haplessly at his shoulder, nails leaving behind reddish crescents as he flicked his tongue across your clit. The sensation was fleeting, but he sought to drag it out, lips greedily pursing around the pearl of your cunt.

Another breathy moan left you, stomach pooling with a rush of molten heat. It oozed between your legs as your arousal fell upon the Prince’s tongue, much to his delight. He did not waste a drop, mouth traveling wherever he pleased, lapping at every inch of your cunt.

His throat echoed with a low growl, hands grabbing at your thighs. He traced his tongue around your clit, teasing you with feather-light jolts of bliss. You let out a whine, occasionally writhing atop the furs, head lolled back in a display of pure ecstasy.

Aemond’s subtle groan of delight reverberated throughout him whenever you tugged on his tresses, forcing him further into the warm embrace between your thighs. He pressed a string of kisses along your clit, as if he were worshiping you. He enjoyed your greed — if anything, he wanted to indulge you.

The warm lick of the hearth danced across your flesh, seeping into your very bones. Perspiration dotted your brow, jaw tight as Aemond ogled you from between your legs, like a svelte predator, poised for the kill. “You’re perfect, Aemond.” You exhaled, noticing the subtle twinkle in his lilac eye.

That familiar cheshire smirk of his returned; your sweetly-spoken compliments and shower of praise clearly satiated Aemond. He kissed your thigh, breath hot as it fanned across your aching core. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” His voice was cajoling, playful as he nipped at your hip.

You squirmed, becoming desperate for a release, one that your Prince seemed to dangle before your eyes like a carrot on a stick. “Please,” You moaned, digits tightening within his tresses, a subtle signal to continue. “Please, Aemond!” With such an urgent plea from a sweet mouth, Aemond couldn’t resist you.

It seemed that begging would get you places — Aemond thoroughly savored every second of it. Your lust mirrored his own, perhaps subdued, but it was a raging desire nonetheless. He placed another string of kisses against your inner thighs, gazing at you with an incendiary fondness.

Sluggishly, he descended to your cunt once more, dragging the flat of his tongue along your slit in one broad stroke. With a shiver, your hips rolled forward, eased into submission by Aemond’s hands, which happened to lock you into place as he swarmed forward.

He drank you in, tongue greedily flicking between your weeping core and clit, until he began to apply that same pressure as before. His thin lips pursed around the pearl of your cunt, suckling on the clutch of sensitive nerves until it drove you mad, back arching from the furs.

By the Seven, the things Aemond did to you.

There was a fervor in his ministrations, a ravenous hunger that threatened to tear you asunder. His tongue lapped at your core, interchanging with those brief moments of his lips latched around your clit. You whimpered, thighs pressing on either side of his head.

“Aemond,” You sighed with passion, fisting his silky tresses until you tugged him closer, burying his face within the warmth of your cunt. Aemond didn’t seem to mind, treating you with another barrage of suckling and kisses until you were spent. “Fuck.”

Your unholy mouth made Aemond shudder, groping at your thighs as he brought you to climax. Your release was bittersweet upon his tongue, the most sinful taste imaginable — yet he never claimed to be a pious man. He worked tirelessly to clean you up, cock aching within the confines of his leather trousers.

As you rode the pleasurable high of your release, your body unfurled, the tension within your stomach coming to a halt. A molten bliss wept between your legs, soothed by the cool lick of Aemond’s tongue. Your tryst was far from finished — you had more left to give.

In a coiled, poised fashion, Aemond moved from between your legs, prepared to untie the strings of his trousers and sink himself into you, but you stopped him, placing your palms against the plane of his chest. His musculature was lean and narrow, almost spider-like.

Aemond did not make a sound, watching as you rocked up onto your knees, thighs quivering as you eased him down onto his back — the same position you had been trapped in moments prior. He was enraptured, lilac eye glued to you as if you were heaven sent, a goddess coming to claim him for yourself.

You tossed one leg over him, thighs straddling those spindly hips of his, palms dragging across his shoulders, his chest, his abdomen — wherever you could reach. Aemond shivered beneath the intensity of your embrace, lips quirked into the ghost of a smirk, a look of perplexity to mask his desire to submit to you.

“Tell me you want this,” You whispered, nails lightly raking themselves toward his breeches, not daring to go any further until Aemond offered you his consent on the matter. He was often on top of you, domineering and incredibly energetic, but this was different — for him, and for you. “Say the word and you can have me elsewhere.”

The subtle bob of his throat wasn’t easy to spot, masked by shadow, one half of his countenance basked in the glow of the firelight. His sparkling sapphire gazed at you for an eternity, the other drifting across your supple physique, seated atop him as if you’d mounted a stallion.

His hands came to rest atop your thighs, splayed out, possessively groping your pliant flesh. “I want you,” Aemond uttered, his voice a delicious purr, an octave full of an unrestrained lust. “In whatever way that is.” He quite enjoyed this position — he liked seeing you in all of your beauty, bared before him.

With a gentle smile, your digits began to unravel the ties of his trousers, gracing across his hip bones. It was enough to make him shudder, even if the action was barely noticeable. Together, you and Aemond removed the rest of his clothing — and there he was.

He was a beautiful creature, all lanky musculature and pale flesh, stringy and angular. Everything about him was sharp, like the edge of a blade. Aemond was charming, enchanting to you whether he realized it or not. It was enough to prompt you to lean forward, pressing a string of kisses along his collarbone.

“My Prince,” You murmured into his skin, your nose nuzzling underneath the sharp slope of his jaw. You kissed him there, listening to the hitch in his throat. Aemond hummed, lips curling into something of a perplexed line as his hands wandered about your frame, ensuring to touch and caress every curve, every part of you. “My Prince.”

Aemond turned his head, the movement precise and not at all coincidental. His lips captured yours in a feverish kiss, his cock eagerly pressing against your slick cunt. You gasped, feeling the length of it tempt you as he had several times before, but this time, he grabbed your chin, ogling you with his lilac hue.

He wanted to watch your face as you sank yourself onto him, briefly grabbing his cock in order to guide it to your aching slit. The pleasure that blossomed across your countenance was a sight to behold, and you were met with the familiar tilt of his mouth, a fire smoldering within his gaze as he bucked upwards.

His cock speared you with a suddenness, causing you to moan as you adjusted yourself, rocking up onto your knees. Aemond’s palms held your thighs, and he was more than willing to do some of the work, unwilling to let you tire yourself.

It was mesmerizing to see you on top of him like this, breasts full and lovely, softly jostling with each movement. Your flesh was velveteen, pure perfection cast in the sienna glow of the hearth. The fire was dying, but the lust between you and Aemond was far from extinguished.

Your palms fell flat atop his abdomen, finding your purchase there as you began to ride him. It was sluggish and erratic, at first — you let out a soft moan whenever Aemond moved too, using his strength to meet you halfway. His hips lurched forward, cock thrusting into your cunt several times over.

A string of wanton whines and moans escaped you in droves, feeling his grasp on your thighs tighten. He was quite enamored with you, especially like this — there was no sweeter feeling. He continued to buck up into you whenever he could, sheathing himself inside of you, possessing you from below.

Aemond’s visage contorted into one of shared satisfaction, shifting from indiscernible to pleasurable. He sat up just enough to be within reach of you, hips pushing up to meet the downward fall of your body, his cock buried deep inside of you.

“Aemond,” You exhaled, tossing your arms around his shoulders, feeling one of his hands wander from your thigh to your waist, colliding into you with a passionate fervor. The pace you set was sporadic and needy, wanton with desire as you rode him, your movements attempting to temper themselves. “Kiss me.”

That breathy plea of yours was enough to make Aemond submit, lips claiming yours again in an achingly slow, heated kiss. The feeling of your tight cunt around him, slick and warm, made him groan. He was desperate to keep a rhythmic pace, if that were even possible.

Flesh collided against flesh, and you felt Aemond’s mouth pry itself away from yours, creeping toward the column of your throat. He kissed your jugular, face buried within the hollow between your neck and shoulder. You continued your conquest, rocking up and down along his length, nails digging into his shoulder.

Aemond coaxed you backward, wanting you on your back for the final moments of your coupling. You were swift, slumped back down within the furs as the Prince seized your haunch, spreading your legs by bullying himself between them as he had before.

His thrusts became a touch rougher, chasing after a release as he began to rut into you, cock reaching the threshold as he filled your cunt. Strands of pale hair fell around his face, brow glistening with a thin layer of perspiration.

You gasped, back arching as you hitched one leg around his hips, grabbing at his biceps. Aemond’s pace intensified, turning into something carnal and primal, need outweighing sensibility. Lewd noises filled his chamber — the clash of flesh, the sound of your entangled panting and groans of ecstasy.

Wordlessly, he sought your mouth, kissing you with a blistering force that made your head spin with delirium. You reciprocated with passion, feeling his tongue split past your lips, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. Your teeth snagged across his lower lip, enough to make Aemond’s throat echo with a faint growl.

Between the tangle of teeth and tongue, bodies becoming one, you rolled your hips in-tandem with Aemond’s sharp, brutal thrusts. “Don’t stop.” You whispered, wanting him to chase after his release, feeling the pleasurable pulsations between your thighs.

Aemond let out a soft grunt, cock burying itself within you over and over again, precum slathering your insides. The sensation of your cunt around him was perfection — he wanted more of you, all of you. You felt his hand snake around your throat, cupping beneath your jaw as he squeezed just enough to make you whine.

He was relentless, pounding into you with an obvious desperation that only furthered your desire for him. You gripped his shoulders, bringing yourself as close as you could, any sliver of distance beginning to dissipate, eclipsed by conjoined bodies and shared bliss.

At last, his countenance contorted into one of complete and utter pleasure, pale brows furrowed in concentration, violet-colored eye closing for just a moment. His cock throbbed inside of you, brazenly spilling himself wherever he saw fit. He pulled out halfway through, painting your thighs in a sticky sheen of glistening seed.

With a huff of finality, Aemond kissed your jaw, removing himself from you long enough to retrieve one of the many blankets draped across the foot of his bed. You watched him in rapturous silence, the way his physique moved, sinewy muscle highlighted by the flicker of a fading fire.

You cleaned yourself up, feeling Aemond return as he draped the blanket within your lap. As the hearth began to die, the chill of his chambers became evident, thunder rattling overhead, accompanied by the onslaught of a cold deluge. He rekindled the flame, wordlessly slinking down to curl next to you.

Strewn beside the fire, Aemond’s head came to rest atop your sternum, arm draped across your midsection. You held him, kept him close — it provided a sense of vulnerability that made you truly believe that he was yours. You stroked his hair, surprised that he hadn’t asked for you to leave.

“Whenever you wish for me to depart, say the word, my Prince.” You uttered, feeling him tighten his hold upon you. Aemond gazed listlessly into the flames, lilac hue half-lidded as you continued to caress the crown of his head. He didn’t want to go anywhere.

“No,” Aemond’s command was sharp and punctuated, despite the softness of his tone, something that demanded you yield to him. “I want you here.” He uttered, shivering when your other hand traced along what expanse of his spine you could reach.

Prepared to make your vigil beside Aemond, you settled, leaning into him just as he careened into you. The silence was eerily comforting, lulled by the atmospheric backdrop of the thunderstorm. You always enjoyed the aftermath — you enjoyed holding Aemond, most of all. It made you feel cherished in a different way, one that others might not have understood.

You shifted forward, burying your lips atop the pale crown of Aemond’s skull, letting it linger beyond the boundaries of chastity. He exhaled, body fully curled against yours, half of him reclining against you, the other half left to soak in the crackling warmth of the fire.

As your digits tenderly traced the muscle of his forearm, Aemond finally broke the silence once more, happy to let you stroke his hair. “I have always been different, teased and ridiculed,” He lamented, a twinge of melancholy within his voice. “Underestimated, most of all.”

It was a rare glimpse into the window of Aemond’s being — the man that craved love and affection, longed to be thought of as important. After Storm’s End, his mother had cast her frustrations and scorn down upon him, condescending and detached.

A gentle exhale escaped him as you stroked along the angular slope of his jaw, turning his head away from the fire and toward you. You looked down upon him, this man capable of ruthlessness and cunning, and saw the threads of a shattered youth — of someone who longed to feel a tender touch.

“Those who’ve attempted to slight me have always fallen so short of the mark,” Aemond uttered, a vague reference to the Velaryon boy that he had wrongfully slaughtered. He had some regrets about that one, but he hoped that it would cement his strength — he was the rider of Vhagar, and even then, it never felt like enough. “Hm.”

He seemed incredibly comfortable like this, pressed into your warmth, his cheek nestling against your collarbone. You continued to trace along the smooth plane of his musculature, allowing your digits to finally brush underneath his scarred, sapphire eye.

“You feel cold,” You hummed, noticing the way in which he absentmindedly leaned into your palm, allowing you to fully cup his face. “You are strong, Aemond — resilient and cunning. It is not my place to speak of your family, but I’ve come to know you, and I know that you are stronger than all of them.”

Bristling underneath the sweetly-spoken purr of your praises, Aemond kept his arm draped around you, the other coming to rest underneath your breast. The pad of his thumb graced your silky flesh, and he wanted to stay like this forever, if he could.

Aemond regarded you with a forlorn intensity, one that still danced with a subtle frustration, intermingled with his growing sense of possessiveness towards you. He kissed your palm, and then placed a kiss against your chest, ear pressed to the beating swell of your heart.

“I do not feel different with you,” Aemond uttered, able to listen to the little flutter within your chest, the steady gallop of your heart. “I do not want that to change.” His tone became solemn, and you simply coaxed him closer, allowing him to use the crook of your elbow as a place to rest, fingers raking through his hair.

“It won’t change, my Prince.” Your reassurance was gentle, as saccharine as the finest honey. Aemond’s hum was one of contentment as he crawled forward, head resting against your shoulder instead, allowing him to better hold onto you just as you held him.

Silence passed between you, accompanied by the brief crackle of dried tinder atop the logs, the light of burning embers dancing before you both. He kissed your jaw again, the slope of his nose brushing around your neck as he peered towards the flames.

Again, you felt your breath hitch when Aemond held tightly to you, lifting his head just enough to gaze down upon you. Your countenance was captivating — beautiful beyond compare, awestruck of his appearance. His lilac hue flickered across your face, drinking in the doe-like look you had before he hummed.

The ghost of an indiscernible expression fluttered across his features — incredibly subtle, yet present nonetheless. “I certainly hope not.” He murmured, lips molding themselves to yours, and then to the corner of your mouth before he resumed his former position.

You kissed the top of his head once more, cradling him as you would something fragile. You knew that Aemond’s insecurities resurfaced often, but now, they seemed far more prevalent. Regardless, your affection for him wouldn’t waver — you worried that he wouldn’t feel the same for you, however.

Unbeknownst to you, Aemond already possessed you, body and soul — and that was more dangerous than any blade or any dragon.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd x reader #hotd x you #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x reader

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axelsagewrites · 2 months ago

Note

Hey can I request a Aegon x Hightower!aunt reader?

where she's got this holier-than-thou attitude but secretly enjoys seeing Aegon lusts over her (even doing stuff on purpose to fuel his desire). And ultimately she humiliates him in some pleasurable way.

Aegon Targaryen*Pray For Me

Pairing: sub!aegon x f!reader

Word count: 1694

Warnings: a lot of blasphemy, religion, face riding, p in v sex, teasing, m!recieving oral, f!recieving oral, orgasm denial (male), sub aegon, dom reader, good boy, smut 18+

Masterlist here

Your sister was at her wits end, and you couldn’t blame her when you visited court for the first time. Your father was very determined to keep his youngest daughter away from the antics of court but when Alicent requested your presence as the Queen, he decided it was best not to argue.

“Impropriety is a sin, you know,” your voice was quiet, but it shut the whole table up when you spoke.

It was your first family dinner with the queen and her children. Aegon had arrived already tipsy and was being exceptionally loud. “You think me immoral? For having some fun?” he asked, drunkenly smiling as he leant forward.

Alicent let out a sigh and opened her mouth to speak but you spoke before she could, “I think punishment will find those who deserve it,”

“Whatcha gonna do?” he slurred, putting his elbows on the table which you glared at, “Spank me?” he teased.

You smiled sweetly at him and just as he went to sit back in you gave the table a quick jerk causing the wine, he reached for to spill across the table. The red liquid instantly covered his frame, “You bitch!” he jumped up as he tried to shake the wine of his tunic, “This is new!” his whines were almost drowned out by Heleana’s giggles and Alicent’s attempt to hide her laugh.

“If you squandered your money less this wouldn’t be a problem,” you said but it fell on deaf ears as he went to storm out the room.

You weren’t shocked when the guards informed your sister Aegon had taken to the silk streets after dinner. He was shocked to find you leaving his room as he got back, “You’re waiting for me?” he smirked when he saw you, “Need me that badly?”

“You’re driving your mother mad,” you sighed, crossing your arms.

Aegon ignored you, his gaze instead lower to how your breasts threatened to spill from your dress, only exaggerated by your crossed arms. You glowered at him as you lowered them, “If you’re worried, pray for me,” he said as he stumbled to his chamber door.

You rolled your eyes as you walked away. However, you still vaguely heard his cries of ‘what the fuck’ when he discovered you’d taken all the wine from his chambers.

Each day went the same. Aegon did something that would make a septa blush, you reprimanded him, he hit on you, you made him regret it. “As if you’re perfect,” he’d scoff at you when no one else could hear, “Bet you’re up to all sorts when no one’s looking,” You internally smirked but would just remind him of the sins of the flesh eating away at his soul. He didn’t need to know the truth. Not yet.

Slowly he was beginning to learn, beginning to behave better, but no amount of your scolds would stop his eyes from wandering your frame. Hell, the one time he came to the sept Alicent nearly leapt for joy. You didn’t want to break it to her he’d knelt beside you and kept looking down your dress when he thought you couldn’t see.

You also weren’t willing to admit you’d enjoyed it.

One-night Aegon came to your chambers. He was drunk and begging for your touch, so you sent him away. Your blood went Firey hot however when Aemond later confessed to seeing Aegon in a brothel with a woman who may as well be your twin.

Maybe it was time to punish him on his level.

You wanted him to be sober for this. You wanted him to remember his mistakes. So, you waited in his chambers while he was out to morning sword practise. He opened the door with a heavy sigh and let out an even heavier. “What did I do now?” he groaned as he made his way to his wine.

“Leave it,” you said, your voice calm, “And sit down,”

“I’m really not in the mood for a lecture,” he huffed as he grabbed a chalice.

You tutted as you crossed the room, grabbing his wrist gently. Aegon span around, ready to argue, but you stepped forward. Your lips ghosted over his and his breath got stuck in his throat, “Don’t make me ask again,” you said slowly before sleeping back, pointing at the bed.

He nodded softly before slowly making his way to sit on the edge of his bed. His eyes stayed glued to you as he took his place. You followed him slowly, standing between his legs as he gazed up at you, “Better. It’s good when you listen,”

“What are you gonna do?” he mumbled as his hands went to reach for your hips.

You grabbed his wrists softly before he could, “I’m going to give you what you deserve,” you smiled, pushing his hands back to step away.

Before Aegon could protest your hands found the ties of your dress. He swallowed thickly as you unlaced them, allowing the heavy fabric to pool to the floor. Left standing in your thin shift you felt a rush of energy go through you as his eyes drank you in.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled.

“Blasphemous,”

“I don’t care,” he was too distracted by your figure to notice your smirk.

You stepped closer, lifting his chin with your finger. You smirked as his cheeks tinged pink. Your hand stroked gently over his cheek. A quick glance down and you could see he was ready. “Get rid of those,” you instructed and instantly he obeyed, “And lay down,”

Without moments Aegon was laying naked, on his bed, an excited look on his face. You moved to straddle his lap, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. He tried to follow them when you pulled away, but you kept a hand on his chest.

“Patience,” you chastised, “Good things come to those who wait,”

“I don’t think I can wait,” he mumbled.

You ignored him as you leaned down to kiss his cheek, then along his jaw. Just as you began to kiss his neck you lowered your hips, pressing your clothed core against him. He moaned softly as you began to grind against him.

You felt his hands on your hips and pushed them away, “Not yet,” you said, pinning them softly down onto the bed.

“Sorry,” he moaned, gasping when you pressed harder.

After all good behaviour got rewarded. You released one wrist, taking him into your hand. He moaned softly; eyes fluttery shut as you worked your magic. You enjoyed the little sounds he’d make as your kisses moved lower.

Eventually you released your grip on his other wrist as you kissed softly down his chest. However, when you felt his hand move to your hair, you let him go. “What?” he whined as you moved back up his frame.

“You haven’t earned it yet,” you smiled softly, running a hand over his soft locks.

“What do you want?” he asked, his eyes desperately searching yours as his body craved release.

You let your fingers trail down his face till they graced his lips, “I think you know,” you said, and his eyes turned hungry.

Slowly you moved further up till you hovered over his face, “Can I touch you?” he asked, his cool breath fanning over you making chills run down your spine.

“Yes,” you said as you gently lowered yourself down. You couldn’t help but gasp when his tongue began rubbing over your clit. His hands found your thighs, pulling you further down as you grabbed onto his headboard.

Curses fell from your lips as his tongue worked wonders on your bundle of nerves. He moved his head, his tongue now curling inside you as his nose nuzzled your clit. Your hips began to buck, grinding against his face. He let out a low groan, vibrations shooting up your spine.

“Good boy,” the small whisper seemed to egg him on as his movements grew faster. His moans grew louder. It was becoming impossible to hold on as a knot tightened in your belly.

your nails dug into the wood of the headboard as you let out a loud gasp when your peak crashed over you. You kept riding his face till you milked every drop of the pleasure.

Slowly, once you could move your legs again, you moved down his frame again. “You’re amazing,” he said, face wet as his eyes gazed at you with stary like wonder.

“I think you’ve earned a reward,”

Fire sparked in his eyes. He watched with bated breath as you positioned yourself over him. You lined him up, rubbing him against your slit and watching his eyes flutter shut. “Fuck,” he groaned as you slowly sank down.

Your hips moved slow at first, riding him at a tortuous pace. He went to grab your hips but stopped himself. He looked up at you, silently asking permission. You gave a curt nod, a simple smile, and suddenly his fingers dug deep into your hips. “you feel so good,” he mumbled in bliss.

You felt him start to twitch and just as quickly as you brought him to the brink, you pulled away. “What-?” his eyes shot open, searching the room as if someone had caught you, only to discover you’d stopped for seemingly no reason, “Why-?”

“Do you really think you’ve earned that yet?” you chastised, “After all your stunts?” your hand brushed against his cheek as his eyes went wide. You smirked gently, “Oh sweet one, I want to enjoy this,”

You moved down his body till you were between his legs. Your hands reached for the edge of your shift and Aegon watched with bated breath as you pulled it off. “You better not forget what happens to boys who don’t behave,”

You took him in your hand again, leaning down to place a soft kiss to his tip. Aegon hissed at the feeling. He groaned loudly as you began to kiss down the shaft, “Don’t worry,” you told him, “I’ll let you finish,” you licked up the side making him moan, his eyes shutting involuntarily, “eventually,”

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#aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen smut #aegon ii smut #hotd #hotd smut #hotd x reader #aegon targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon smut #hotd imagine

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zaldritzosrose · 1 month ago

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Pretty Little Thing (Gwayne x Handmaiden!Reader)

Hello! This is fic number two in my Milestone Celebration! Thank you to the lovely anon for requesting this and for giving me the chance to write Gwayne for the first time!

Summary: You were the object of Gwayne's curiosity, a thought he couldn't seem to shake. As his sister's handmaiden, there was rarely a time when you weren't in his presence. Your innocence and gentleness had captured his senses and he was prepared to do whatever he needed to have you as his.

CW: MINORS DNI, she/her pronouns, afab reader, reader with Hightower coded physical description, loss of innocence, obsessive love/desire, innuendo, profanity, Gwayne being a gentleman, reader is described as innocent and a little naive, dry humping, oral (f receiving).

Words: 4963

The handmaidens she surrounded herself with were one of Alicent’s only true sources of comfort in the Red Keep. Aside from her father, Lord Otto, and her brother, Ser Gwayne, there were few other escapes from House Targaryen.

So almost all of her ladies were closer to her own Hightower physicality than Targaryen. Ladies with darker or auburn hair, or rounder features that were common within The Reach. Some were younger and others were close to her own age. The younger ladies made her feel like she was regaining the youth that marriage had stolen from her.

Her favourite was you.

You were young, in your early twenties, Gwayne would wager. Though you were not the youngest of Alicent’s handmaidens, you were the one that fascinated him the most. On every visit Gwayne took to King’s Landing, he would find himself looking at you, and only you, whenever you were in his presence.

Alicent would keep you close, finding your calm, sweet nature a welcome reprieve from her tumultuous life as a Queen. So, wherever your Queen would go, so would you. Which meant you were regularly in Gwayne’s presence when he paid visits to his sister.

And word had come that he was to make another of those visits.

This visit was one Gwayne had been looking forward to. There was no political pretext or command from his father. He was simply here to see his family and, he hoped, to relax.

You had been within his sister’s service for a good few months now. A mainstay in her life. His curiosity about you had only grown in that time. How had you managed to stay so untainted by the venomous life at court? Was this sweet and innocent personality you displayed a façade, or was that your true nature?

That morning, you were called to help your Queen ready herself for the breakfast she had planned with her brother. It wasn’t unusual for you to be chosen for such tasks, Alicent did prefer your company in general.

As you stood at her back, taking the soft bristled brush through her curls, you dared yourself to ask a question that had lingered in your mind since you had first met Gwayne. You knew little of him, save for that he was a knight and the Queen’s brother.

“May I ask you something, my Queen?” you said softly, setting down the brush and taking the small bottle of hair oil from the Queen’s vanity.

Alicent glanced at you in the mirror and simply smiled.

“You may ask me anything, sweet one.”

You took a small breath, calming yourself as you smoothed a few drops of oil into her hair before beginning her braids.

“It is about your brother, your Grace. I only wonder, out of curiosity, what he is like?”

If you had not been concentrating on the first braid in Alicent’s hair, you would have seen the surprised twitch in her eyebrow. But she answered your question, nonetheless. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by her, in the few times Gwayne had already been around you, that his gaze would always find you – though you had never spoken to him.

“Gwayne? He is much as most would expect him to be, intelligent and honest but not without a quick-witted comment or two.”

You supressed a smile, you knew exactly what Alicent was getting at. Your experiences of the Hightower family were only her and her father, Otto. And it seemed Gwayne took a lot of his personality from his father, in both of your opinions.

“Much like our Lord Hand then, your Grace?” you said with a small laugh, which was answered with a warm smile from Alicent.

It was her way of saying she agreed, without saying it aloud. In truth, you appreciated that she allowed you to be almost informal in your conversations. It made your relationship with her far easier to manage, considering the time spent at her side.

The rest of the morning passed with little more on the topic, until you walked with your Queen to the breakfast room – where you would leave her for other duties.

Gwayne was already there, a small plate of fruit already in front of him as a servant poured tea.

“Sister, good morning!” he called out, standing to pull out a chair.

Alicent gave him a kiss to the cheek as greeting before giving you permission to leave her side. But Gwayne was not going to let you leave in silence.

“My lady, a good morning to you as well,” he said with a smile, taking your hand gently and giving a pause for your consent before he pressed a gentle kiss to the skin.

You couldn’t see Alicent’s expression, but there was a knowing glint in her eye. She knew Gwayne well enough to know his thinking when it came to you. And the blush that was growing on your cheeks was enough to tell her about your feelings on the matter.

“Good morning, ser, I will leave you to eat in peace.”

Your hand slid from his grasp, your skin almost tingling from where he had touched. You gave a soft curtsy to both siblings, before leaving the room.

Gwayne simply stood, watching your retreating figure. The soft fabric of your gown, in a beautiful pale green, that hugged your gentle curves. The light, auburn toned curls that reached just above your waist and were tied half up with a matching green silk bow.

Though most ladies would embrace their femininity, you seemed to do it with almost a girlish innocence. From the bows that tied back your hair to the softer, more flowing fabrics of your dresses. It was as though you lived to define what a woman should be.

As for you, the second those doors closed, your hands flew to your cheeks. The heat that came off them only had you more embarrassed. You had never been on the receiving end of such attention before, especially from a man such as Gwayne. He was a knight, of all things. The Queen’s brother.

Your heart hammered as you hurried to begin your daily tasks. But your thoughts remained with Gwayne.

You didn’t see him again until the next day. Or more to say, you weren’t in his presence until the next day.

Alicent was at the royal council, so you and the other handmaidens were in her solar with tea and embroideries. But not one of you were concentrating on the threads in your hands.

Gwayne hadn’t received word that Alicent would not be in her rooms, but he stopped dead at the door when he heard the girlish giggles from within – realising quickly his sister was likely not present.

“You are so lucky!” a voice giggled, from who he assumed was another handmaiden.

But his ears only pricked up when he heard his name.

“Ser Gwayne was simply being polite; the Queen had been greeted so I imagine he felt it was only right to greet me as well.”

That was a voice he recognised. It was a voice that he had kept in his memory since the first time he’d heard it – all be it only yesterday. A sweet song he wished to hear again and again.

Part of him wanted to interrupt, assure you that he greeted you out of his own volition, not for politeness. But Gwayne knew if he was caught eavesdropping, you would likely think badly of him.

But what was said next caught his attention yet again. Not the compliment paid to his looks, but your agreement to it.

“He is quite handsome, though, is he not? And dare I say more handsome up close?” Another handmaiden asked, clearly directing her question to you, he realised.

There was a pause, and Gwayne waited in bated breath for what you would say.

“More so, far more handsome up close. I could scarcely look him in the eye.”

It was almost Gwayne’s turn to blush, if he had been inclined to. Did you truly find him so handsome you had to avert your gaze? Or were you so inexperienced, his mere presence had you nervous?

He decided then, he had every intention of finding out.

Gwayne knew getting you alone was not going to be easy, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be uncomfortable. So, he chose a longer game. He would woo you, secretly if he must. Enamour you with him, as he was with you.

First, he needed to learn what you liked. He had seen your preference for your silk hair bows every time he’d visited. A different one every day, almost. Your hair styled intricately and held together with the soft fabrics, always matching your gowns.

It was the one thing he could picture immediately if he tried to imagine you.

So, he wagered then, you must have an eye for pretty things. He had no plans to leave King’s Landing anytime soon, so he had more than enough time to put his plan to action. The first step, having the perfect bow made for you.

He found a dressmaker, a sweet lady who was more than happy to help him.

Gwayne had a picture in his mind. Something that would have enough clues to tell you the gift came from him, but he didn’t want you to figure it out too easily.

The first choice of clue would be the colour green. In all the times he had seen you, you worn some shade of it. Though it was likely Alicent’s influence, it was a colour that suited you perfectly. So, he had the dressmaker choose a soft green fabric, intricately embroidered with dainty flowers.

There was something about you that seemed to call out for everything sweet, soft and innocent. And Gwayne wanted the gift to be tailored entirely to you.

It wasn’t long before it was done and the whole situation sworn to secrecy with a few extra coins in the dressmaker’s hand. Gwayne was almost giddy with excitement as he took the box back to the Keep. It had been a long enough time since he had felt the need to woo a lady.

With a few questions, he soon found your rooms, leaving the box on your vanity with a note that simply stated,

A pretty little gift, for a pretty little thing.

He now only had to wait for you to find it.

That evening, you returned to your rooms exhausted. It wasn’t until you sat at your vanity to untie your hair that you saw it. A velvet box with a note attached. The words written had you blushing almost immediately.

But when you opened the box, your breath caught in your throat. The soft, green fabric embroidered with the prettiest of flowers. The bow was perfect, your hands stroking the fabric in awe.

Who could possibly have sent you such a thing?

There was no clue on the note, but the compliment had your heart hammering and a heat simmering deeper than you had ever experienced before.

A pretty little thing…

Those words played in your mind long into your sleep.

Gwayne felt nervous. Alicent had let him know that one of her ladies would be joining her that morning and he found himself hoping it was you.

Had you liked his gift? Would you be wearing it, even?

His questions were all answered the moment you walked through the doors. He could see your eyes widen at his presence, the faintest of pinks in your cheeks as he stood and pulled out a chair for you to sit.

“I hope you do not mind Gwayne joining us this morning, sweet one?” Alicent asked as you sat.

“Of course not, your Grace, more company is always welcome.”

Gwayne lingered behind you for a moment, his eyes falling on your bow. The bow he had gifted. He could barely hide his smile as he spoke softly.

“That is quite the accessory you have there, my lady. Very pretty indeed.”

Your heart could have stopped. The emphasis on pretty was surely purposeful? But the sender couldn’t possibly haven Gwayne…could it? Mentally you shook your head, that was impossible and ridiculous, you thought.

But the coincidence was surely too great?

The thoughts circled your mind for the entirety of breakfast. Gwayne’s eyes catching yours whenever they could. And there was something behind them you couldn’t quite decipher. It made that heat rise in your belly again, simmering low and making your skin prickle. He looked at you as if you were the most important on in the room – but surely you were just imagining those things?

Breakfast ended and Alicent gave you leave to spend a few hours as you pleased. You appreciated the gesture but were curious as to the reason behind it. But you knew better than to question your Queen.

Alicent however, had seen how Gwayne looked at you. The twinkle of desire in his eyes that she had seen when he had courted ladies before. But you were precious to her.

“Brother, a word?” Alicent asked, just as your form disappeared around the door.

Gwayne knew that look. Whatever Alicent wished to say, it was likely not going to be enjoyable. She remained stood, her hands holding on to the back of the chair you hadn’t long vacated.

“Is something the matter, sister?” Gwayne asked, finishing his tea and doing his best to appear calmer than he felt.

Alicent raised a brow, a look that sent a shiver down the spines of most.

“Be careful with her, that’s all I ask.”

Nothing more needed saying. Your place in Alicent’s affection was clear, and Gwayne wanted nothing less than to hurt you. He stood, rounding the table and taking one of Alicent’s hands in his.

“I would never dream of it. She is far too precious.”

His words held two meanings, and Alicent was free to take them as she wished. You were precious to your Queen, yes. But Gwayne had all the hopes that you would become just as precious to him.

Gwayne spent most of his visit training, spending time with the Queen and his other family, or seeking your presence. Whether it be when you would tend to his sister, or when you would be sat in the gardens drinking tea and embroidering with the other ladies.

He would observe you from afar during the latter. Learning about you from simply watching you exist. Everything about you was gentle and innocent, like a doe that needed to be protected.

There was nothing about you that he didn’t find beautiful. You truly were a pretty little thing. He understood entirely why Alicent kept you in her service. You were like sunshine personified. Gwayne couldn’t picture a time he hadn’t seen you with a smile on your face or a laugh leaving your lips.

It was truly a refreshing sight to see.

It was as though, wherever you went, Gwayne was there. Whether it was intentional or not, you didn’t know. And you also now wondered just how long he planned to stay in King’s Landing. But you could never quite work up the courage to ask.

Every time he would speak to you, he would render your mind blank. Cheeks always flushed pink. It was as though he knew every little way to get you flustered.

But at the same time, you didn’t really understand why it flustered you so. You had been around handsome men before, a side effect of being at royal court. Gwayne, however, was different.

He was handsome. No…beautiful was a better word for him. There was a softness about him despite the sharpness to his features. And his smile would always have your heart pounding. But the word to describe the feelings you had, seemed to escape you.

Gwayne decided to up his game a little. The bow had been a sweet surprise, but you still remained blissfully unaware of his affections, it seemed. So, he needed to do more. He needed you to see him as he saw you. To want him as he wanted you.

But you were not going to be an easy catch.

He needed to make his affections more obvious. To leave you with absolutely no doubt that it was him who pursued you.

Gifts inspired by things that he could only associate with you.

Your favourite flowers? Left in your rooms every morning.

The poems you adored? Handwritten notes slipped under your chamber doors in the evenings.

And yet, you said nothing to him. Your demeanour around him barely seemed to change, that was noticeable anyway. But fate seemed to drop an opportunity at his feet.

It was a warm night, not even the light nightdress and open drapes seemed to cool you. What you wanted was a walk and some sweet cakes. Not that the cakes would cool you down, but a trip to the kitchens was a walk enough.

You donned your robe and slippers, making sure there was no one in the corridors as you slipped through the door. Your steps were quick, the path to the kitchens was well ingrained into your mind.

Thankfully, your journey was quiet. Or so you thought.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain knight seemed to have had the same idea. He was several paces behind you, his bare feet keeping his presence hidden from you. But Gwayne hadn’t even seen you, until he heard noises in the kitchens as he passed.

He recognised you immediately. The now signature hair bow loosely holding your curls in place in a messy braid. Not wanting to disturb you or startle you in the middle of the night, he simply observed.

How you hurried around searching for what he imagined was something very specific. And he could barely contain his smile when he saw what it was. A tray of honeyed cakes. The way your face lit up as you filled a plate with as many as you could made his heart swell. Your innocence was intoxicating, and it was sending more than just heat to his heart.

It made him almost obsessive. Desperate to know everything about you. To know the inner workings of your mind. To know whether his touch could fluster you as much as his words.

He kept himself hidden as he saw you hurry away with your treasures. Smiling at your retreating figure before continuing his walk, a final step to his plan to claim you now in his mind.

Morning came, just as warm as the night before. Your dress choice was lighter to accommodate the constant layer of sweat on your skin. Your hair braided up and away from your neck with a few curls loose around your face. And of course, your hair bow holding it all together.

Gwayne had gifted you a few more. Some left anonymously on your vanity like the first time. Others given to you through others. And today, you wore one of those very bows.

It was a soft white, like the underdress of your gown, small flowers embroidered around the edges. It had become a favourite of yours, the plainer colour matching many of your dresses.

You were almost finished getting ready, the last job left was to roll on your stockings and slip on your shoes, when a knock sounded at your door. When no voice called out to you, you simply called out to the visitor.

“Come in?”

The door clicked open, and a young servant stood holding a tray of honeyed cakes with a note. Your brows furrowed in confusion, motioning for the young girl to bring them inside while you finished rolling on your stockings.

Outside of your chambers, the door having been left ajar, Gwayne waited. His eyes dropping to the soft blue of your stockings as you rolled them high up your legs. It was a sight that felt almost sinful to see. Yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He wondered what they felt like. Would they be soft? Would your skin be as soft beneath it? Would you even let him touch?

Your movement brought his attention back to his actual purpose here. The cakes. He wanted to see your reaction, though to his note not the treats themselves.

I hope you like my little gift, my pretty little thing. I hope you have liked all of my gifts; they look ever so beautiful on you. And I will read those poems to you, whenever you should wish it. GH.

Your hands held the note tight, almost crumpling the paper beneath your fingers. GH, those initials spoke of only one person in your mind.

Gwayne.

Everything seemed to fall into place. The bows, the poetry slipped beneath your door, the flowers in your chambers. It had all been him…

“My lady.”

His voice pulled you from your reverie. The note falling to the table in front of you.

“Ser…” your voice was barely a breath, your heartbeat loud in your ears.

Gwayne entered slowly, giving you the chance to send him away. But you didn’t.

“It was you.”

You said it so simply, he could only smile. There was almost a hint of surprise in your voice.

“Is that such a surprise, my sweet lady?” Gwayne asked, closing the door gently behind him.

You were still in such shock that you hadn’t even registered you were now alone in your chambers with him. But everything about him had you calm, made you feel safe.

He had never done anything to make you feel differently. If anything, you felt happier within his presence. Maybe even sought it out.

“All these gifts, you have spoiled me.”

Gwayne was next to you now, his hands coming to rest on your arms. His chest barely pressed against your back. He wanted nothing more than to pull you tight against him, to feel your skin on his. But he knew he needed to ease you into it.

“You are worth spoiling. You are deserving of more than I could ever give…”

He smiled as he felt you lean into him, letting your body relax. Heat pooled in your belly. A heat you only felt around him.

His fingers trailed up and down your arms, making you shiver. Your cheeks slowly reddening as your supressed a sigh. Gwayne leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You truly are a pretty little thing…”

His lips pressed to the skin just beneath your ear as he finished speaking, and you gasped. Surprised both at the touch and at just how good the tingle that went through your body felt.

You turned in his arms, meeting his gaze and seeing nothing but want behind his eyes.

“I do not understand, why me?”

Gwayne chuckled. Not to mock you, but out of sheer adoration for your naivety.

“Because you are beautiful, because you are like sunshine in human form, because you have entranced my very soul…”

His voice was low, somewhere between a whisper and a growl. His body caging yours against the table behind you. And yet you didn’t want to push him away.

“I desire you, my lady. I crave you.”

Desire. That was the word for it. The right explanation for the fire that was beginning to flicker in your stomach. No, lower, somewhere deeper that had your whole body crying out for his touch.

Your hands had a mind of their own, trailing up his chest almost in fascination. Gwayne tried to suppress his own sigh of satisfaction. The heat and left him free of his usual heavier tunic, so he could almost feel the softness of your skin.

His face was so close to yours; one movement would have your lips locked. Your hands slowly reached his shoulders, as if you were mapping him out. When his eyes finally met yours again, he found his own desire mirrored back at him.

“Kiss me?”

You didn’t need to ask him twice. His lips were gentle but demanding. His hand coming up to cup your jaw as he finally tasted your lips. Your hands gripped at his shirt, whimpering into his mouth as his tongue traced your lower lip. And you were quick to grant him access.

You had read romance novels; you had pictured yourself in such entanglements. But you had never thought they would become reality.

His hand moved to tangle in your hair, your curls soft under his palm. His chest was now pressed firmly against yours, and the thin fabric of your gown did nothing to cushion the growing hardness that now pressed against your stomach.

Gwayne groaned into your mouth as his tongue finally tangled with yours, head tilted as he deepened the kiss. His free hand travelling down to grip your waist, your gown bunching in his hand.

“Will you let me have you, my lady? Let me sate the desire we both feel?”

He needed your words, to know you wanted him as he wanted you.

“Yes, but I am still…”

Gwayne caught your words with a kiss. He knew you were a maiden, but that was further than he was willing to push you.

“I would not taint you like that, my sweet lady…I simply wish to satisfy you.”

His lips trailed down your jaw, to your neck. Marking the skin with his kiss. Your head fell back, a sigh of his name leaving your lips. The hand that gripped your gown moved to your hip, urging you back towards the table behind you.

And you sat back gladly. Your knowledge of such carnality was purely fictional, but from the way Gwayne now dropped to his knees before you, you could gather what he wanted.

“Will you let me, my darling?” he asked, his hands gripping the hem of your gown.

“Yes…please…”

Your voice was a mere whisper, and it fell to silence as he lifted your gown. You let your eyes follow him. The way his hands now lingered on your stockings, tracing the embroidery with his fingers.

“So pretty, every inch of you…”

Gwayne moved his hands higher, his lips following after as he kissed a path up towards your core. This was his reward. He had pictured what it would be like to finally have you in his grasp. But the reality was far sweeter.

Your head dropped back the second his lips kissed at the apex of your thighs. One hand gripping your gown as the other found purchase in his hair. His hands made quick work of your undergarments, tugging them down and throwing them behind him.

His lips grazed the soft flesh of your core, teasing with gentle kisses. Your hand tightening in his hair every time he came close to your folds.

“Gwayne, please…”

Your voice was so sweet, tentatively begging him for more while saying so little. And there was only so much teasing he could endure himself.

His tongue gave a gentle swipe over your folds, relishing the breath moan that spilled from your lips. You tasted sweeter than he could have ever imagined. Like those honeyed cakes you loved so much. It was addicting.

With hands hooked under your thighs, he delved deeper. No longer teasing. He wanted to taste every inch he could. To feel you come apart on his tongue.

Your fingers scratched at his scalp as his lips attached to your pearl, the knot in your stomach already tightening. Gwayne could feel your walls quivering, quickening his movements as he felt you falling closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh, I feel…oh!” you panted and Gwayne persevered.

His tongue lapping as your back arched from the table, thighs tightening around his head as you peaked. His fingers replaced his tongue as you came down.

“Oh, my sweet girl…did that feel good?”

His fingers massaged over your shaking thighs as you relaxed, heavy pants making your chest heave. But he was surprised when your hands tugged him back to standing. He had promised to sate you both after all.

“So good, I have never...”

Gwayne smiled, slipping between your thighs as your hands rested on his chest. He wanted to watch you fall apart this time. And the throbbing between his thighs was quick to remind him of his own needs.

“Do you wish to again; I will make you feel that way whenever you wish…”

You nodded, pulling him in for a kiss as Gwayne let his hips roll against yours. Instinct drove him now, his hands on your waist as he rutted softly against your body. Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him tighter against you.

It had been a long time since he had satisfied himself like this. There was still an innocence to the whole thing that had his heart warming. You were his now, he knew that.

“Oh, my pretty little thing…mine…” he grunted into your neck, your hands flat against his back.

Your fingers dug into the muscle of his shoulders, as you felt his rhythm become erratic. He was close, and your name fell from his lips like a prayer. You were his, you knew it.

Gwayne’s movements slowed, soft kisses pressed to your throat as he spilled into his breeches. Your name a final sigh as he relaxed. Your hands stroked his back as he pulled back to look at you.

Where there was once want in his eyes, there was only affection. An affection that you could feel swelling in your chest. Gwayne’s head rested against your chest.

“Yes, all yours.”

Your words hung in the air, a promise. A promise of a future. Of a pretty little thing and her knight.

Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added/deleted):

@blissfulphilospher @multyfangirl @thenameswinter99

@elaratyrell @tumblin-theworldaway @legitalicat @sylasthegrim

#gwayne x reader #gwayne smut #gwayne fic #gwayne hightower #gwayne x you #gwayne hightower smut #gwayne hightower x reader #follower milestone #milestone celebration

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biwitchenergyz · 4 months ago

Text

A House of Blood and Fire

Chapter Three: The Warning

<-Previous

"Perhaps we can talk?" You whisper in the quiet of the empty library. The soft, warm light of the metal chandelier casts a gentle orange glow on Aemond's pale face, creating an eerie atmosphere. He keeps his distance since releasing you from his embrace, yet his body is still turned to you, a clear sign of his reluctance to let you go. Silence follows, but you cannot stand to let it linger. As you move to clear your throat, the silence is broken.

"Talk? What could we possibly talk about." Aemond's voice may very well haunt your dreams tonight. His deep, velvety voice sends shivers down your spine. You struggle to discern the emotions he stirs within you – your closest guess would be hatred. "We haven't seen each other in many years. I am sure there are many things we could discuss," you venture, the words hanging in the air. Aemond remains silent momentarily before humming softly as he turns away; his silver-gold hair catches the light. He is walking away from you, and the mere implication that he can treat you with so little respect is infuriating.

"Aemond-"you start, only to be abruptly cut off as he snaps, "Stay away from my brother." His words echo through the extensive library, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on you. In an attempt to lighten the mood, you respond with a snicker, "Which brother, my prince? Or did you forget you had two?" Your attempt at humor sounds more cruel than humorous, and as Aemond remains motionless, an uncomfortable stillness settles between you.

"Aegon always changes when you're here. In the past, when you would ward under our mother, he rarely visited the brothels, and he did not indulge in his cups as much as he does now. Every time you leave, he grows sullen, and his vices become more frequent.” Aemond’s lip curls in disgust, but he continues, “ This past year has been an improvement for him, but with you here…when you leave again, his condition will deteriorate. Save him that pain. Stay away."

A pang of heartache washes over you, opening old wounds that fester and sour. It's undeniable that Aegon fared better when you were with him. You two were thick as thieves, but your actions caused a rift that may never mend. The memory of him in the stands earlier was already tormenting you. When you close your eyes, you can still see his pouty lips whispering your name like a fervent prayer. Aemond is right; you should stay away from Aegon, but know you cannot.

"What of you?" you ask, your voice steady and confident. Aemond's interest is piqued, and though you barely notice, he turns slightly toward you. "Must I avoid you too?" Saageal’s soft meow answers you; standing in the doorway, your beloved companion has managed to escape as he always does, regardless of what castle you reside in. The sleek black cat gracefully prances to Aemond, affectionately rubbing his face against the silent man's calf. After gentle nudges from the large feline, Aemond leans down to tenderly brush Saageal's back, eliciting a chorus of contented purrs that resonates throughout the room. As a kid, Aemond was the only one of his siblings to be comfortable around your pet. Your mother always told you that Saageal was special.

"Just like you, this kitty has two very different parents. A strong alley cat for a father and a cunning Shadowcat mother." Saera would whisper as she combed your silver-gold hair, letting the water from your curls drip onto the luxurious Dornish carpet, not caring if it was ruined. Saageal was undoubtedly the most treasured gift your mother ever gave you, and it filled your heart with warmth to witness your favorite companions also develop a deep affection for him.

Aemond recoils, pulling his hand away as if Saageal is made of flames. "You know what happened that night, as well as I do. You took my sister from me." There is a heavyweight in the air, suffocating any chance of explanation. You know that revealing the truth would only cause more pain, so you choose silence. He would not understand. Any admission of guilt would hurt him; nothing is left to say. Aemond's gaze pleads with you, hoping for honesty and genuine compassion, but all he receives in return is your stony silence. You feel a mix of anger, guilt, and sorrow towards Aemond, a man who was once a friend but is now a reminder of your biggest secret.

"Helaena loved you. She loved you, and you drove her away." He does not say anything else; The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken anguish. Aemond takes one final glance at you before departing and leaving you alone in the deserted library; book still clutched in your hand.

• • • • • • •

You can't help but mull over Aemond’s words, even though it infuriates you. As two castle maids help you prepare for dinner, you find yourself imagining Aemond in chains. Perhaps you would take his tongue if given the chance. You are completely astonished by the audacity he has to blame Helaena’s disappearance on you and claim that you drove her away; it is a stab to your already wounded heart. The two handmaids exchange occasional glances, and finally, one asks with concern, "Are you feeling well, princess?" This maiden is around your age but far more timid and soft-spoken.

"Apologies. I am perfectly well. Remind me of your name?" You speak gently, not to scare the shy maid. She shares one more glance with the older handmaid, who encourages her. "My name is Dyana if it pleases your grace." She is pretty with her full cheeks and bright eyes. You remember her from somewhere. When you realize who she is, you feel sick. Helaena's bedmaid who once followed the princess to and from her chambers.

"Dyana. I remember you now. I appreciate your help today. Both of you, I am grateful for the assistance." The maids thank you for your kindness, but it strikes you as odd to be thanked for simply showing human decency. Despite having lived in Westeros for eight years, the culture of the Summer Isles still profoundly influences your thoughts. In the Isles, the king's household roles are considered a great honor, chosen by priests who seek the guidance of the goddess. A completely different sentiment is shared in Westeros, and serving as a maid seems more like a punishment than a service. It is common for maids to stay in one home only briefly, but Dyana has been in the Red Keep for over six years.

"Her Majesty is overjoyed to have you home, princess. She missed when you wintered in the keep," the elder handmaid, Lenna, remarks as she delicately puts pearl pins in your luscious curls. Memories flood your mind as you recall the precious moments spent in the company of the Queen and her children.

" When we were younger, Aegon and I would count the leaves of the godswood to tell when summer had finally arrived. In the winter, the godswood would lose all its leaves, which is how Aegon knew I would return to the keep. As summer approached, the tree bloomed a beautiful shade of red. Aegon told me that he believed the number of leaves on the tree was the number of days I would be away at Dragonstone. Aemond and Helaena were not fond of our game; it saddened them," you reminisce while the maids attentively listen, sharing in your nostalgia.

The memory resonates with them- a time when Aegon didn't need assistance to his chambers after a night of frivolous partying, an Aegon who didn't make crude comments when deep in his cups, one who didn't weep in his room for hours on end. It was also a memory of when Helaena roamed the halls in silence, radiating warmth.

" If you liked it so much, why did you leave, princess?" Dyana hands you a vibrant garnet lip paint. The maid's job is over, as you prefer to apply your own makeup, but they linger, eager to share in your company. You rise to sit on your bed; you gesture for them to join you, and after a moment of hesitation, they settle in comfortably. Saagael rises from his place on your cushioned chair to join the three of you. At first, Dyana seems afraid but soon begins to stroke the soft feline with a tender touch.

"I arrived in Westeros at the tender age of thirteen, not long after the tragic death of Lady Laena and Aemond's injury. Our journey was prompted by my bastard brother's claim over the Summer Isles and his subsequent usurpation of my throne," You pause, gathering your strength before continuing, "He... inflicted grave harm upon my mother, but Viserys struck a deal with her, offering me asylum on the condition that I become a ward of Princess Rhaenyra's. The Queen argued that it was more fitting for me to be under her care, and after much debate, the king decided that I would spend six months with Princess Rhaenyra and six with the Queen Alicent."

Your mother, weakened by her wounds, never had the opportunity to advocate for you. She would have, if not fearing for your life, vehemently opposed Viserys' plan to treat you as a ward and insisted that you be honored as a princess rather than relegated to the position of a ladies' maid. Her wounds had weakened her; by the time your boat docked in Blackwater Bay, she lacked the strength to stand. It stung her pride to allow her only trueborn child to be treated as a lady-in-waiting, but she could not risk you being handed over to your halfbrother. Dyana and Lenna see the sadness in your eyes. "The only reason I was allowed to remain on Dragonstone is because the king's hand practically banished me from the Red Keep."

"I would be willing to bet you've got more restrictions than even us bedmaids," remarked Lenna, albeit with a touch of amusement. "Not that we don't have plenty of rules ourselves," she quickly added to soften her words. You worry that you might have inadvertently belittled their own struggles.

" I wouldn't dare compare my plight to your own! I have so few rules here, apart from the changing seasons and my mother's final wishes." You worry that you have offended your bedmaids by making your issues seem more significant than theirs, but they are entirely at ease with you.

"Forgive me if I overstep, but what were your mother's last wishes?" Dyana inquired gently as Saagael nestled contentedly in her lap. As you sit among them, surrounded by comfort, you recall how your mother used to recline on the countless cushions in her chambers, attended by lady's maids and noblewomen, all indulging in Saera's captivating voice and flirtatious manners. She would often take you onto her lap, allowing you to revel in the lively atmosphere. You couldn't help but wonder if you possessed even a fraction of her grace or remarkable ability to spark love in others.

"She made me promise her three things," you began, feeling the weight of her final requests. "Firstly, I must never ride a dragon. Secondly, I am forbidden from marrying a Targaryen. And lastly, I can never sit the iron throne in any way. To remain under the king's protection, I mustn't press what little claim I have or use my Targaryen blood for gain."

• • • • • • •

Dinner in the Red Keep is always a lavish affair. The scene's grandeur immediately strikes you as you enter the dining room. The long, intricately painted wooden dining table, a gift from the Tyrells to Queen Alysanne, sits empty, awaiting the night's guests. Servants move about the room, rushing to light candles, arrange the table, and add cushions to the king's seat. They nod to you as they pass, a gesture you return.

"You are early, pretty lady." You sense his presence before even turning around. You would know him in a crowd of thousands; you would know him in another life. Four years apart could not make you forget the way his heartbeat from within his chest.

"Aegon." You do not need to say anything else. Your reunion is swift as he draws you into his embrace, grasping you as if he fears you will slip through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. The scent of wine was long gone, replaced by the soothing aroma of frankincense.

"Four years. It has been four years." Aegon's body shivers. You fear he has begun to sob, but he pulls away to hold your face; his eyes are teary, but he composes himself as he cups your face gently in his hands. His touch, unexpectedly tender, is much unlike the rough hands of a dragon rider." You still stun me after all these years." He whispers as one might when confessing their sins.

"My prince does not realize how beautiful he is." You tell him, your heart filling with the happiness only your old friend can create. He shakes his head, eyes never leaving your own. "All beauty fades in comparison to yours." You know you should take his words with a grain of salt; he has always been a flirt, but you can't contain the flush that heats your cheeks. "My prince is cruel with his jests."

The heavy door creaks open, and the flickering candlelight reveals the shadowy figure of Aemond Targaryen as he descends the stairs with the kind of casual confidence one would typically see in a king. “Ziry vestragon ao emagon umazigho īlva jorrāelagon raqiros, lēkia.” It seems you have found our dear friend, brother. Aegon frowns, his response slow and uncertain, "Skoro… syt ruaragon… ñuhon?" Why..hide…mine? Aemond hums at his brother's failed valyrian. Aegon was never good at paying attention to his maester's, but it looks as if he will try to speak again, so you cut in.

"Jaehossi uēpossi arlȳssī, sepār ȳzaldrīzes se quptenkys Ēngos!” By the old gods and the new, speak the common tongue! Your valyrian accent is like liquid honey, flowing from your mouth with the same silky musical tone as the summer tongue. Saera had a hard time ridding you of your summer accent, finally giving up when your accent had shifted into a unique combination of both your mother tongues. Nevertheless, your high valyrian was as rusty as your summer tongue, and you sometimes mixed words between the three languages you spoke. Aemond humms in agreeance but Aegon is cautious. He watches his brother carefully as he moves closer. Aemond slowly paces around the dining table, his every step drawing nearer until he looms behind you.

" Be glad it is I who found you. Others would spread damning rumors." Although Aemond is not close enough to touch you, you feel his strong presence as if he were right against you. Aegon instinctively clutches your hands tightly. "Tread carefully, Aemond," warns Aegon. His warning goes unheeded. " I have saved her from ruin. The people already speak so ill of her mother. Would you want to feed their distaste simply because you can’t keep your hands off?" You pull from Aegon's grasp and step away from both brothers. In your time as a ward, you learned that there are many moments to stay silent and very few moments where you should speak up.

“Can I not embrace an old friend? When has friendship become a scandal?” Aegon demands of his brother, but his words cause Aemond to smirk, almost as if he knew something that the two of you did not.

"Aemond Targaryen, you have no right to speak as though you fear for my reputation. Was it not you in the library making vile accusations against me?" Aegon's head whips from you to Aemond as he repeats your last words in bewilderment. Aemond scoffs, "Too much time with my half-sister has changed you." He boils your blood. Aemond steps closer to you, and instead of backing down, you match him, bringing the both of you barely an inch from each other. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you missed me."

"Don't be ridiculous, princess."

"Is it so ridiculous to assume you might miss an old friend?"

"We are not old friends," Aemond hisses, his words hanging in the air like a heavy fog. You restrain yourself from asking him about the nature of your relationship. Just as the tension becomes unbearable, the door swings open, and Rhaenyra enters the room, flanked by Jace and Luke. Their sudden appearance shatters the moment's intensity, and you quickly assume the role of lady-in-waiting, bowing respectfully to the princess as she approaches.

“Sister.” Aegon and Aemond both quip in unison, their voices subdued in her presence. The princess acknowledges them with a curt nod before turning her attention to you. Her mere presence seemed to quell the sibling rivalry.

“Have I interrupted something, dear brothers?” In her presence, the boys are like puppies caught fighting for a bone. With one look, she makes her brothers fall silent. Very little has been resolved between the Targaryen siblings since the disappearance of Helaena, but to Rhaenyra’s credit, she had flown to King’s Landing to be with her family. Since then, they had exchanged the occasional letter. She kept the contents of the letters she exchanged with her brothers close to her chest despite your begging to read them. Helaena was dear to all her siblings, and in her absence, they were able to share one thing: a longing for her.

“And is Daeron not joining us?” Rhaenyra questions, but it is Daeron’s timely arrival that quiets her. Daeron holds his mother's hand, helping Queen Alicent down the stairs so she does not stumble over the long fabric of her gown. Not far behind them are Otto and Daemon, accompanied by your dear cousin Rhaenys and her granddaughters.

Without a word to anyone, Alicent takes her seat to the left of the king’s chair. Rhaenyra follows as if pulled to the other woman, sitting on the king's right. You all head towards the nearest chairs, placing you between Aegon and Aemond with the dragon twins in front of you and their respective betrothed beside them. Rhaenys takes the seat opposite the king’s chair, a dignified place for your beloved cousin. Otto and Daemon sit across from each other at the corner of the table beside the queen and the princess.

Viserys is carried in barely a minute after everyone is seated. With his arrival, the dinner finally begins.

#aegon x reader #aemond x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #helaena x reader #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #alicent hightower #aemond one eye #aegon the second #rhaneyra targaryen #rhaenicent #rhaenys the queen who never was #f/f/m/m #fanficton

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jacesbeloved · 3 months ago

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for the kingdom: part v

summary: being the youngest daughter of alicent, you hadn’t known what it was like to feel restraint until you had been betrothed to the eldest son of queen rhaenyra for a pact. for who? for the kingdom.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

warnings: explicit content, cunnilingus, dirty thoughts in a church, porn with (little) plot, dirty talk, slightly public sex, overstimulation | if you liked this, pls do leave a heart or comment, it’d be greatly appreciated ^w^

part: I, II, III, IV, V

ftk taglist: @kentarosbaby @lady-ashfade @simrah1012 @mfrnchsk @sexualityisajoke @elsyyie @instabul l @ephemeralninon @chrisevansgirlfriendsposts @mainstreambitchlife @alexandra-001 @writer-lee5 @nightly-polaris @m4nd0l0r @roroswitherose @how2besalty @eds-gryff f @icantpickausername @solacestyles @blue1006 @highexpectationsgurl @doe-inluv @kitkat-writes-stuff @alex4040 @cl-0-vr @frogoerson @neo-weareone @theamuz @illainebedeakin @littletargaryens-blog @ietss @ttae-yong @daevinvan333

Alyrie Florent.

Alerie Hightower.

Viserys Targaryen.

"Mother," Alicent jumps at the sudden call. Her eyebrows confusedly joining together as she stares at you, rugged and breathless.

Clearly, you had not remembered of your commitment to come with your mother to the Sept at early morrow.

She stares at you from top to bottom before you invite yourself to the place beside her, kneeling and clasping your hands together as she had always told you to do once you arrive at the Sept.

"My goodness, daughter, it is only early morrow... why do you look like that?"

You run a hand through your hair, your chest heaving up and down as you close your eyes. "Look like what?" You ask although you could not really care for an answer.

"Nothing. Pray for your father." Thank the gods you thought.

The run from the inn inside the Streets of Silk was far from the Sept. Not to mention, the hundreds of steps that you had to walk up both in the Red Keep to get dressed and to the Sept itself.

As you finally feel the silence around you, visions of last night cannot be stopped as it runs through your mind again.

"I expected more from you, princess," the teasing tone of Jacaerys' voice hits just the right buttons. His hips hitting your pelvis in slow, hard strokes that has you seeing stars by the minute. The moment his cock entered your cunt, you knew it was over for you.

"Just fuck me, Jace," you say in between moans. Your hands going up your head and into your hair as you desperately pull at it. You hear a deep chuckle come from him as his hands hook your legs around his waist, snaking his arm across your chest and to the back of your neck before his pace quickens.

You scream his name, the sound entering his ears like one of the greatest songs ever sung by poets. That pushes him further. His lips latching onto one of your perked nipples before his warm tongue lovingly laps circles around it. You put one hand on his head, messing up his hair as your sanity decreases by the⎯

"Daughter, did you hear what I said?" The images in your head disappear and you are faced with a furious look from Alicent. Sighing discreetly, you look back at her, giving back the same look. "I didn't catch you clearly."

She shakes her head disapprovingly, "Your uncle, Uncle Gwayne, might return. However, I do not know when exactly he'll come back."

For such a meaningless sentence, you hum and simply throw her a question as you exhale loudly. Feeling your body slowly heat up again. "Really? Why is he bothering to come back?"

Once you heard your mother's continuous flow of words in answer to your question, you peacefully close your eyes again. Hoping to all of the gods that it would keep your mother at bay. You gulp nothing but saliva down your dry throat, feeling all of the tingles and touches you felt last night.

"That's it... Keep your eyes on me, princess. You're doing so good," Jace's eyes lazily look up at you, a grin etched on his lips as you bounce up and down his length. This new position hitting places you never thought one could reach.

Your thighs were burning. You feel the pain in your hips going stronger but the pleasure overpowers it by a league. You wished the two of you could have stayed like earlier where he was the only one moving but after he makes you release in that position, he kisses you messily then pulls you off of the cushion.

His big hands hold the sides of your hips, helping you bounce, even thrusting up on his own every now and then to catch you off-guard. Your eyes close for your own sake as you feel another release close by. Jace watches you with amusement in his eyes as your hips begin grinding on his length, no longer bouncing like you used to, chasing after your release.

So close. Your eyes close shut even firmer. You can taste it⎯

A hand breaks your thoughts again. On the brink of sanity now as the hand belonged to your sister, Helaena, who shows you a caterpillar that she sets on the concrete ground before kneeling beside you.

Gods, you are cruel. You say in your mind. Letting your face do the talking while Helaena opens up about her insects.

"It looks nice." Alicent smiles. You have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes as both your mother and your sister converse with each other while you kneel there in the middle. When you close your eyes, Alicent speaks again. "You two must bear the Hightower name."

What is this woman talking about? The thoughts in your head are all over the place. Helaena being too pre-occupied in watching her caterpillar to even bother reply to your mother.

"You married me off to a Targaryen, remember?" You say in a low voice. Clasping your hands together.

Alicent puts a hand on your shoulder and bicep, "It was for the better. Besides, it would have been Jacaerys, Queen Rhaenyra's eldest, or Lucerys. Would've you rather rule over the seas than the seven kingdoms?"

"I agree with you wholeheartedly, mother, now please let me pray in peace."

You peek at her by opening just a small portion of your eye, your mother shaking her head once more before she closes her own eyes. Pressing her hand to her forehead as she too, probably, prayed.

Jace's arms instinctively pull you closer. Wrapping his arm around your waist as he pounded inside of you from over edge of the bed. He's only came once while you couldn't even count how many times your legs shook at his expense.

"How does that feel?" Jace asks in your ear, feeling his hand snake through your stomach and down the apex of your thighs where his fingers skillfully rub against your cunt. The contact making you dive further into the mattress if not for the his arm holding you up by your waist. "Does it feel good? Are you pleased, princess?"

No words leave your mouth, only moans and whimpers as his thrusts got deeper. Each thrust into your delicious cunt making him feel delirious. After delaying his own release numerous times, his release was approaching him now just like a wave.

"Don't stop, Jace, fuck," you grit, gripping the sheets as another orgasm awaits.

Continuous groans and grunts leave his mouth. The veins in his neck just as angry as the ones that line his cock. His hands rush to pull your upper body up, placing his hand flat against your neck as your back is now flush against his chest. His other hand stimulating your clit. Every part of your body was on fire and he knows it.

His hand around your neck tightens ever so slightly and you feel your vision turn white. Everything becoming too much. "I'm close. Fuck, I'm coming again, Jace," you cry out.

"It's okay, princess," he grunts, feeling his own release come about as your legs shake, cunt tightening around his cock with a scream escaping your lips. His lips ghosting all across your ear and the side of your neck as rubs soothing circles on your belly. "I got you."

"Y/N, are you okay?" The question from Helaena makes you jolt. Sweat beading on your forehead as you rush to stand up. Both Alicent and Helaena looking at you with great concern. Your face was pale and your clothes had numerous wet spots because of the sweat.

You laugh uncomfortably, "I am. Are we going now?"

"You're the only one we're waiting on." Alicent tells you with a nod, turning around and walking away.

Brushing the feeling of last night off, you hurriedly follow your mother and sister out of the Sept and into a carriage back to the Red Keep.

Before the council meeting later in the day, you have a good amount of time to rest in your own shared chambers with your husband.

He hasn't arrived yet so you use the time to take back some strength after tiring yourself out last night. It may be the low-end cushion that you laid yourself on last night but your bed now has never been comfier. You were tossing and turning all around it while hugging your pillows.

Your handmaidens had their own affairs to deal with, thankfully, it meant no random hair braiding and no anything that would disrupt your peace in your haven.

That is if your brother only bothered to take the locked door as an answer.

"Does my door being locked mean nothing?" You ask at Aemond, having to walk back to your bed after opening your door for him. His return meant the others have just came back as well, it was only a matter of time now before Jace comes to both of your rooms and your peace is disrupted.

Aemond takes a seat near the fireplace. "You sneaked out last night, didn't you?"

Your brother knowing wasn't too surprising for you. He knew of all things, even things he shouldn't know in the first place. So when he asks, you answer with honesty.

"Are you telling Mother?"

Your brother hums, shrugging subtly as he inspects the things you had on the table. Random stacks of books and golden chalices filled with water. Jewelries of various design scattered all over.

"Alicent scolding you does give me some pleasure," Aemond says but you know he's just being an asshole. "It does not give me any use though."

You sigh. Dramatically falling on the soft cushion of your bed as you speak again. "Then tell me what I have done to warrant this astonishing visit from you, Aemond."

A thought hits and you jolt, "You're betrothed?" The scowl on his face says otherwise. "Found a girl?" "Aegon's dead?" You exclaim in a theatrical manner.

Aemond snickers, "Have you seen Otto?" The sudden question goes past your mind as you ask him about the mission last night.

"It was just me and Cole working. Our brother and Jace were as useful as a dragon without wings," Aemond shakes his head, standing up from his chair and exploring the room. The constant walking around bugged your senses.

You glare at your brother's remark. "Honestly, brother, shouldn't you be reporting to the Queen about what happened to the mission?"

"Shouldn't you be welcoming your husband with open arms outside?" Aemond retorts before he holds up a finger, "Oh, apologies, you already welcomed him with open legs last night."

"You should visit a brothel, brother. Or talk to Cole if you are truly irritated with the world," you throw him over an old mirror compact that you had on your nightstand, your brother catching it perfectly before settling it down on a random surface.

Your door opens and just in time, Jace enters. He looks surprised seeing Aemond first thing inside of your room.

Gazing at him, he had his usual clothes back on and not the cream-colored shirts and pants. His hair was in a different way disheveled, there were some strands that look naturally curled compared to how his hair used to look like the first night when you two married.

Aemond glances at him before he turns to you. With a nod, he leaves your room in silence.

"What's your brother doing here?" Jace asks as the door closes. Opening his closet and placing his clothes inside.

"I don't know either," you shrug indifferently. Lying back down on your bed as you watch him move around. The curls on his head bringing back a certain person that you met only once or twice before.

Jace notices you staring at his hair and so he speaks, "It is better not to comment unless you want to be deemed treasonous, my dear wife." The grin on your lips telling him everything he needs to know about what was in your head.

A meeting was called into the council room. Something about an update regarding the recent mission that finished last night⎯or so you thought.

"Where were you?" Your curious eyes go over Otto's figure. He definitely looks surprised when you stop him before he enters the council room. Your grandfather's presence giving you an unsettling feeling as he comes from one of the farther connecting hallways within the keep.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "If it pleases you, I came from Maegor's Holdfast." The way he says it has a condescending tone that you would rather not point out.

You nod quietly, going inside the small council that was now full of people.

Rhaenyra's way of ruling always boggled you. She is Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and yet her small council is crowded. Not only are the seven mandatory positions already here but, Rhaenyra's children were there, Baela and Rhaena Targaryen were there, you and Aemond were even there despite not having any official position in it.

"I want everyone to feel included," as Rhaenyra said on the week that she was able to compose her own small council.

As you walk through the room, your eyes immediately lock with Jace's. It was clear that he had just finished bathing, as evidenced by the wetness of his hair, curls bouncier and more evident than before. It would be a crime for you to say it was not refreshing seeing a new hairstyle on him.

"Dearest wife," Jace nods at you with a small smile.

Contrary to his greeting, you sneer lowly, "Husband."

You take a stone ball from the middle, occupying the vacant seat beside your husband as the council chamber quiets down. The queen nodding at her other council members before she starts.

The meeting at the council went smoothly. Majority of Rhaenyra's council members did their job exceptionally well. Food was not scarce, problems were given solutions, and houses were given adequate attention in terms of their worries.

Whilst the Queen went on about the operations within the city, an occasional share of ideas from you and your mother, you could feel your husband's stare boring into you every time you look away to stare at Her Grace.

He figured that was not enough. His fingers brushing past your hand like a sin. So discreet, so subtle underneath the table as if you two did not consummate your marriage the night before.

You feel his hand creeping on yours again, this time you feel the warmth of it stay a little long before he withdraws it fast. "Jace? Aemond? How did the task go?"

Jace clears his throat, gesturing at Aemond who seemed to already have an answer to the Queen's question.

Aemond starts, "The task cannot be said as a success, your grace. It is clear from last night that more men must be employed in the field, not just Prince Jacaerys...nor Prince Aegon," he raises an eyebrow at your direction. Giving him back the same look before he clicks his tongue and turns back to Rhaenyra.

"I believe the perpetrator has someone inside of the Red Keep, as well as outside, where they hide their other men. They cannot hide this long if not for said allies." Aemond pulls off of the stone table and rests on the chair.

"What do you propose we do?"

This time, it's Aemond that gestures at Jace. "We need to set out more guards on patrol. Not just guards wearing their uniform but guards that are civilians. If these perpetrators do have men inside of King's Landing, we can only know if we live within King's Landing and see its every day operations without raising any suspicions."

People around the table nod, some even proposing additional ideas to it but Rhaenyra seemed to be well pleased with what her son and your brother suggested earlier.

"Your Grace, I fear this has not reached you yet but the mercenary that Prince Jacaerys and my granddaughter bought here is allegedly from the North."

Your head turns, "He's not."

All of the attention zones on you at the sudden interjection. "The man is from Essos. He has burns on his wrist to his arm. There's a group of people within Essos that have those."

"And how would you know that? You have not travelled to Essos nor have you seen this prisoner face-to-face," Otto says with another rather condescending tone. It was clear from the look on his face that he was undermining the information you're giving.

Your jaw clenches. Scoffing in disbelief at your grandfather's statement. "I would know that because I was the one attacked, as you should have known," you put your elbow on the table. "You do know that, right? Jacaerys was not the only one attacked—Hells, it was me that was attacked not him. I killed him."

"That is not something to be proud of," Alicent whispers from beside you.

"Let her be," says Aemond with a bored tone.

Otto does not say any more as an uncomfortable silence settles around the small council. Rhaenyra, sensing this unsettling atmosphere, clarifies the situation before her orders are officially given out.

Jace glances at you as a check up after the cross between you and your grandfather. He was nibbling on his lips as you two lock eyes once more.

"Am I the one speaking?" You question him rhetorically, rolling your eyes at him as you lean on your chair and listen to the politics between them one more.

The thought that you would soon be in a higher place than you are now—clearly not in Rhaenyra's place as the ruler of the iron throne—but still in a high position as the queen consort, having to listen through all of this talk and plans and politics, then plan treaties and feasts together with the other houses, it suffocated you.

Your husband knows that too but, he says no more.

Years of your life was spent within the four wall of your own room. Now, you stand outside of it as numerous servants usher in and out of it while holding different furniture.

You did not want to dwell on the thought of your own space being changed now that your mother's going to occupy your previous room before the marriage but, it stood right across the door from the library—a reason on why you loved your room as well—you cannot just ignore it.

With a deep sigh, you turn around, going inside of the library only to find it empty.

The gods may have hated you enough to take you away from the room you call home, but they do have some conscience to let you have the library all on your own.

Studying was never your forte, reading was. Folklores, history, stories of the maesters, you loved reading about them all.

"I figured you would be here," a voice speaks from the reading area. You were in between the bookshelves, looking for another book to read along with the five that you already have stacked on your hand. "No one loves the library as you do."

"I'm occupied, fortunately, you can go back to our chambers, my beloved husband," you huff, pulling out another book from the shelves before you head out to the open area for reading only to see Jace holding a stack of books himself.

You fake a gasp as you point at him, "I didn't know you can read."

He ignores your attempt to ridicule him and instead places his stacks of books beside yours. You raise an eyebrow at him and he already feels another joke coming up. "I knew you couldn't read! Do you want me to read them then summarize 'em for you, my dear husband?"

"I had this delivered from the Citadel's Library. I figured my beloved wife could use more books to read to...broaden her horizons." Jace crosses his arms, hip leaning on your table.

"I din't take bribery, Jace. What do you need?"

The prince's forehead creases in disbelief, "Are we not allowed to give gifts now?"

"You're awfully suspicious," you reply back fast, standing up from your seat and going back to the stacks of bookshelves.

Jace doesn't reply, instead, he watches you look for books again. He swears he could feel his life span decreasing each time you act like that—like how? He doesn't know as well. The poor man massages his temples as he grabs the book at the uppermost stack from those he bought before walking over to you.

"Your servants have told me that you have almost finished all of the books in the library so I sent a raven to ask for more books. You are free to read them as they are yours and I will make sure the books in our chambers are sorted out as well, if that's okay."

You tap your fingers over the spines of the books, Jace slipping the one he held in his hands at the end so you go past it as well.

"And why would you do all that, husband?" You ask, staring into his eyes as you stand in front of him.

Jace keeps his cool, clasping his hands together, "You said it yourself. I am your husband. It is my duty to keep you entertained."

"Oh but there's a lot of different ways to keep me entertained," you say with a sly smile, the rising ends of your lips making his breath hitch. His mouth falls open but no words leave it, his eyes, however, darken.

The prince replies back, "I'm sure I know a way or two to keep you entertained."

You grin, thinking he's not getting the signal and so you run a hand through his curly hair. "That hair suits you... but I think I know how your hair could look better."

"And how's that?"

"In between my thighs."

Jace scoffs, looking through the cracks behind the bookshelves go check if anyone sneaked in. When he sees no one, he does the first contact as he backs you slowly into the other side of the wall.

The two of you no farther than an inch away from each other as he places his hands on your sides with much care. Pressing his lips on yours before you feel the sides of your dress be bunched up by him.

You willfully open your mouth to him, letting him explore it with his tongue as you did his. Sucking on the wet muscle while you tangle your arms around his neck like a second nature. You could feel his lips stretching into a smile when he starts to pull away.

The dashing smile on his lips seemed to have put you under a spell as you nod eagerly when he nods first. Jace keeping his eyes on yours as he went on his knees in a hurry. He bunches up your skirt, your urgent hands grabbing a hold of said skirt so his hands would be free to—

"Jace!" You hiss, getting caught off-guard when he pushes himself in between your legs. Gripping your thighs tightly as you start to feel his hot breath right where you need him the most. Praise all of the gods for letting you wear a kirtle because it made everything all the more easier. Your legs nearly give out when you feel him lick a stripe up your slit. Mouth falling open in pure ecstasy. It's only been a day since he last touched you but it felt like a year. His mouth laps at you like a starved man. Nose poking at your bud which made everything much more pleasureful. Your hands naturally find solace in his hair, pulling and tugging on it until groans vibrate through your core. He nips at your cunt, the contact of his teeth to the sensitive bud making you yelp. It doesn't take long for him to have you screaming quivering in his grasp. His name spilling out of your mouth like a prayer. You tasted so good, the prince feeling addicted to your taste as he can't even stop himself from fucking his tongue in and out of your hole. "Seven hells, it feels so fucking good, Jacaerys," you mewl, shamelessly grinding your hips on his mouth. His curls scattered all over your hands as you slowly feel that release coming up. He abruptly inserts two fingers inside as he pulls away, chin glistening with your release. You nearly come at the erotic look on his face. His lips crashes with yours again, silencing your moans while you taste yourself on his tongue. His fingers thrusting in and out of you in a quick motion. "I'll make you feel so much better later, I just need to fuck you now," his voice is strained. Desperately untying his trousers. You were so caught up in your own pleasure that you didn't notice his shaft poking against his trousers so when he finally undoes them, you pull it down in one swift motion. The sight of his erect cock making your mouth water. Jace puts one of your legs up to his hips, whispering, "Jump," as you do so enthusiastically. Your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders as both of your legs hook around his waist. You pull him into another hungry kiss, Jace navigating the two of you until he finds a counter. He pushes everything off of it and places you gently on it, the sounds of books and metal hardware falling onto the carpeted floor. He didn't care, nor did you. "I need it so bad, Jace," you whimper, pulling away to look down your middle. The sight of your husband holding his cock as he runs it up and down your slit making you roll your eyes way back as your head falls back. You were biting your lips to try and stop more of your sounds from coming out. He thrusts in one swift motion, the blunt head of his cock hitting the sweet spot of yours that he seems to have memorized already. The two of you moaning loudly in unison. Jace wastes no time in fucking you. His pelvis snapping aggressively into yours as your legs desperately try to pull him closer. "I'm so close, Y/N," he grunts, putting more force into his thrusts as he chases after his own orgasm. Your cunt clenches greedily on his cock. The sensation making Jace bite his lips to stop himself from spilling before you do. He drops a hand to your clit, instantly getting a reaction from you. Your back arching off of the table as you scream about the pleasure. One, two⎯a few more strokes to your spot and you almost⎯ "Can I have a word with my sister once you two are done?" You thought it was only your mind making up scenarios but it wasn't. Another knock sounding, "Oh, and keep it down. Halaena is trying to put Jaehaerys to sleep."

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