#all is bliss(in the court of aemma the great) fic

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 38

Cw:dragon egg-laying in the background, toddlers displaying symptoms of trauma

Gif by @targaryensource

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @watercolorskyy @alexandria-millie @darylandbethfanforever9 @ewanmitchellcrumbs @aemondx @sweethoneyblossom1

Aemma with a child on her hip is a sight from which he can never tire.

She plays with two-year-old Viserys who has been clinging to Helaena believing she is Rhaenyra.

Three-year-old Aegon was more withdrawn, preferring Baela over everyone else save for his nurse.

It was no issue for his sister to care for their orphaned nephews, Helaena adored children, and gave her an excuse to make sure they weren’t fostered with people willing to kill them before the sentence is even completed.

Mother hardly saw them; the guilt ate at her when faced with the reality that she played an exceptionally large part in the death of their mother.

Aemma used any moment to visit them, play with them and lie to them when they asked their father.

She has Viserys on her hip as he babbles to her in half-coherent sentences about his new toy dragon.

“Vhagar’s begun laying her eggs.” Aemond greeted her with a kiss just below her ear. An onlooker could mistake it with a kiss on the cheek, a show of affection after greeting his nephew with ruffle of his pin straight fair hair.

Of course, that was as uncharacteristic of him as it was for the sun to rise from the west, but no one truly knew him except for a handful of his kin.

“Do you want to go see the dragons, Vis?” she asked the toddler with that annoying baby talk he refuses to do.

The toddler is effusive in his excitement, Aemond managed to make out a suggestion to invite his brother Eggy and Aena(Helaena) to go with them.

He has her eyes, whatever features they shared with their mother making it look like he might be her own babe.

Would Aenys look like him, he wonders.

He won’t ever admit it, but he wondered to himself how his children with Aemma would look.

Would they have her thick curls or his straight hair? Would they have his nose or hers, would something tracing back to his grandparents shine through in him?

Perhaps Alys is wrong and it’s a daughter, one who looks like little Daenaera or maybe like dead little Ellyn.

Then it hits him that he will only be uncle to them and the whole dream turns sour.

If they manage to secure Harrenhal and its surrounding lands for Aegon, he may be here to meet the babe that is his in all but name.

He could manage that, five moons is more than enough time.

“You should ask him to join us.” Jena whispers as she helped her change Vis and Aeg into clothes more suitable for an outing.

Well, sturdier play clothes and shoes.

“He is his brother, he’d never do it.” Aemma shook her head as Aeg obediently extended his feet so she may fasten his shoes.

“He’s your lover, he’d take out his good eye if you asked.” Jena said in that baby talk as if she were a toddler too. “Besides, he’d get to be king and never live under his brother’s shadow again.”

Strange how having been intimate with the same men brought people together.

It was fuckin bizarre that she’d find a friend in Jena after their tumultuous beginning.

“No, but hell would have to freeze over before the realm comes to accept a female ruler and I doubt Aemond would like to live under my shadow even if we had a joint monarchy.” Aemma countered her point.

Aemond was proud to the point of arrogance, he’d never accept that he would be her second. She would sit on the throne, and he’d wield Blackfyre.

Well, he already wields Blackfyre because Aegon can no longer fight, but he would function much like a second Hand and general.

He’d live under someone’s shadow, and Aemma is not sure he’d be alright with her casting it being a woman. After all this war was started because men cannot stop thinking their cocks make them superior.

“It could happen. Especially now that Aegon’s dragon no longer flies,” the dark-haired woman said with cunning smile.

“He’s infertile not impotent, Jena.” The queen corrected thinking she mixed it up.

“Oh, you didn’t know? Your darling grandmother, may she rest in peace, broke his little dragon and now he can’t even get it up.”

This was definitely news to her.

If Aemma could ever get an annulment, she’d get it in seconds.

House Targaryen couldn’t hope for the best with one singular heir, for fuck’s sake, Jaehaerys and Alysanne had thirteen children and yet had to call for a great council because they all fucking died.

“Fu-fork!” Aemma gasped amending her word at the last minute, Viserys had recently started picking up words he heard the adults use. In one instance he had exclaimed the word shit when his toy dragon fell out the window.

Aegon gave him a magnificently carved rocking horse made to look like a dragon as a reward.

Now it was up to Aemma, Helaena and Baela to un-teach him those words.

But that is a problem for another day.

Today was going to be the best fucking day ever, so her little brothers have some fucking joy in this gilded prison.

“Just make sure to give my suggestion some thought, your grace.” Jena whispers as she takes her stepchildren back to her manse.

And she does.

Would he be up to it?

Vhagar roars and Aeg covered his ears. He’s been afraid of dragons since mother died.

“I want muña.” He cried before running to his nurse in fear.

“I will take him back to Princess Helaena, your grace.” The nurse said quietly as she held him, and he cried harder into her shoulder because Helaena is not mother.

But Aemma thanked her nonetheless while Aemond called for a guard to return to the keep with them.

Dangerous place this was, anyone here would be willing to hurt the children for something they do not even understand.

Someone would kill them to ingratiate themselves to Aemond and Aegon, others because Targaryens are inbred abominations.

Aemma’s lost count how many times she’s been called an inbred whore now that she’s allowed to leave the keep.

Of course, she shuts them up by doing charity work and letting the Prince Regent deal with it however he likes, but two toddlers alone with no guards invited trouble.

“I apologize, he’s been scared of dragons since mother died and Stormcloud died of sadness soon after when Syrax went feral.” Aemma apologized as the nurse and the guards took both toddlers. Viserys couldn’t cope with being separated from his brother fearing he’d never come back like mother and Daemon, so he chose to leave too.

“Perhaps if he were to be given an egg, he may overcome it. I think Vhagar’s clutch will be quite large. Enough for everyone.” He suggests trying his hardest to pretend there isn’t anything going on beyond friendship between them.

But his words also betray how isolated he felt when everyone had a dragon and he didn’t.

Aemma had a little hatchling that never grew and eventually died when her wedding date was announced, Elēnar had been more loyal than a dog and more trouble than anything in creation.

I would rather have one like him than have none at all, he had once said the day before Joffrey was born and he was humiliated by Aegon’s cruel prank at the Dragon Pit.

Mother had been livid, Harwin and father as well.

The boys had no sweets for a month, were barred from the Dragon Pit unless an adult was with them, and all three of them were to have a very special lesson from Teora about why bullying is bad and why good children do not do it.

It had been so long since then. Nearly seven fucking years.

She had only been six and ten when she arrived here and now, she is just a week or so away from her eight and tenth nameday. Aemond’s nine and tenth had been just before the war, they had snuck off during the hunt in his honor and fucked like animals against a tree until they came looking for him.

“What are you thinking about, dearest?” he asked quietly, his voice low enough to send a shiver through her.

“My name day, and whether your gift to me will be as great as the one I gave you for yours.” She flirts with him knowing he still gets tongue tied like when he was two and ten and blushed every time anyone called him handsome.

“I thought the orange blossoms would have been to your liking.” He defends the flowers he had hidden in a book of hours made of the finest quality. “Perhaps a tourney crown would move you, my queen. Or dragon’s egg, you did famously have two dragons.”

“I already have a second dragon, three would be too many.” She teased him forgetting they aren’t alone. Although no one would dare speak it, and she can always be vague and have them believe she meant her husbands.

“And where do you keep this second dragon of yours, your grace? Silverwing is chained like a criminal in her nest.” He takes the bait with a smile while Vhagar’s gives out a final huff as she delivers the searing hot and fleshy egg case containing her progeny.

“Why, in my bed, your highness.”

He cannot know what she and Jena are plotting.

He loves her, but not enough to usurp his brother and that is a fault she cannot ignore.

[julyzaa]

⭐️ for any section of All is Bliss

Thank you Ange 🖤 😊 also congrats again to you and your husband on your wedding.

So for this i am going with ch.41 , aka the group stabbing.

Putting this under the cut for length and spoilers

I had alwayd intended to write a scene where Baela, Aemma and Helaena (and Daeron Velaryon) go apeshit and remind the readers that despite the three of them being princesses(in Aemma’s case queen twice over) they are still capable of great violence... much like their dragons.

I also needed to explain that this is also a medieval society where murder is legal in certain circumstances (like a duel, or because they are dragon riding royalty), show the horror of what happened at the Battle of the Gullet, have Helaena snap and how Alicent’s reaction to Aemond’s accidental maiming was really about her vs Rhaenyra hence why she is the only targtower accepting the trophies Sharako Lohar brought.

Aemond at this point in the story doesn't want Luke's eyes because Luke was tortured to death by the Triarchy so tehre was no honor in it and he's spent enough time with Aemma to understand his maiming was really an accident and also it's huge no to relish in the death of your lover’s beloved baby brother a day before her birthday

It was also fun to write Helaena be defiant and showing she is still a motherfucking dragon

[evita-shelby]

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks for the tag @emotionalcadaver and @darklydeliciousdesires !!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

38 and counting , might make it 39 when i get around to uploading Seeds on there

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

750,325

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mainly Peaky Blinders, House of the Dragon and Masters of the Air, have written for the Inuyasha Fandom, one fic for Black Panther, game of thrones/a song of ice and fire, the Avatar cartoon series, wrote a one shot series for republic commando before i found out the writer is the jk rowling of star wars, tried a batman fanfic one time, did a one shot for pride and prejudice, did a saltburn crackfic and removed from hiatus a Silmarillion and Rings of Power fic

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

Someone will remember us :1261

Between the shadow and the soul: 623

All is bliss (in the court of aemma the great):368

You read me poetry while i wash the dishes: 229

Nothing more difficult than love: 222

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes, will take between 5 seconds or 5 days lol

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The Knife, a one shot/epilogue for Incantatrice where Eva plans her and Luca's murder suicide after the events of the fic

7. What’s a fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Completed on ao3, Misao of the Fire Nation where Misao and Iroh just elope instead of having the wedding their families wanted. Happiest because the fic itself was pretty low stakes

Between the shadow and the soul is a close second because it ends with Eva arriving in Veracruz with her exile finally over and the series as well. And its a good pay off after a lifetime of drama

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yep

9. Do you write smut?

When the stars and planets align

10. Craziest crossover?

I once tried an x men/starwars/tranformers crossiver when i was 15, it was bad, i deleted it. That year i also did an inuyasha/lord of the rongs crossover

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Also no.

14. All time favorite ship?

Elizabeth Bennett/Fitzwilliam Darcy

My favorite oc x cc ship?

Eva x Jack Nelson followed by Aemma Velaryon x Aemond Targaryen

15. What’s a fic you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My namor x Eva fic, unless Tenoch Huerta comes back in something in costume i can't erase the thought that he look like my tio in monarchas

16. What are your writing strengths?

Character building!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Grammer! Descriptions!

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Depends. Like i have written a fic where the dialogue is entirely in spanish and then made a seperate fic with it English because i was not gonna put translations in the og fic.

I think if it doesn't detract from the story, it should be fine, and your story should be fine if the readers skip it.(i do when its a language i can't speak or read)

19. First fandom you wrote in?

*sophia petrillo voice*: picture this, a bored eighth grader discovers quotev in keyboarding class after reading the outsiders and seen Patrick Swayze as Darry Curtis. It was actually a Sodapop Curtis x oc fic for a friend because they thought he was the hotter brother.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Shock and Delight, the hotd bridgerton inspired aemma x aemond fic

[lya-dustin]

All is Bliss

(in the Court of Aemma the Great)

Chapter 60

A/n: rewrote parts of it and then added more to the og chapter

Cw: mentions of a past murder, murder accusations, good ol misogyny.

She hasn’t even been crowned yet and already she is sick of being queen.

Kingslayer, kinslayer, whore, unnatural, usurper, monster.

These and many more are the insults the pockets of Green Loyalists hurl at her face and behind her back. Some never liked that some houses like the Velaryons and Celtigars are black, others do not like her for being a woman. A crown wasn’t going to make them change their minds.

A cock would, but alas the only one she has is Aemond's but he isn’t in the mood these days.

“Helaena isn’t speaking to me. She thinks I was part of it.” Aemond confides as if she wasn’t in the same boat.

“We will deal with this later, for now we must prepare for the arrival of our guests, dearest.” Actually, she is treating Jena almost as badly as Helaena is treating them. Well not badly, just giving them the silent treatment. But they can’t worry about it now. Not when the Wolf of Winterfell comes too late to be of much use.

Everything was already done; peace had been achieved and should last through the winter.

Atleast.

Green and black can’t be worn in court unless paired with other colors or for funerals. Court will have new rules and the realm as well to protect the rights of heiresses and bastards claimed by their adoptive fathers.

Aemma has many plans and won’t stop until the realm shines in the golden light of progress.

Easier said than done.

She must wait a year to wed Aemond as a widow and to confirm Aenys’ status as Aegon’s heir, she must find a way to keep the realm from rioting after most lords and men have been maimed and killed, and worst of all, find a compromise that works for all.

She has a council and a court, but everyone demands she personally oversees it to mollify their fucking egos.

Some seek to humiliate her for being a woman the other seeks to put her on a pedestal for being a woman. Aemma must be unimpeachable, she must be perfect in every way or else they will think she is unworthy of crown. Aegon never had to prove anything, he had a cock and in the end that’s all they care about.

“Your grace, your highness, the Northern Envoy has arrived at the gates.” The guard notifies them interrupting Aemond who had been about to speak. Likely wanted to remind her that his sister believing they are murderers is not something you can just deal with it as if it were a state matter.

“We will continue talking about this later, Aemond. I promise.” Aemma amends her earlier words as they follow her security detail to the throne room where they will receive Cregan Stark and those with him.

Westeros, unfortunately, now had to come first.

Her first thought when she met Cregan Stark was: do I look as mature as him?

Followed by: how much of this so-called maturity is actually life beating the living shit out of you and making you age prematurely?

Either way, Cregan Stark with his fearsome reputation looked closer to thirty than his actual three and twenty. This was not a man to take lightly, and his great sword felt more earned than inherited when you knew what he has lived through.

“Well met, Lord Stark,” Aemma offers the bread and salt as is custom and he takes it with a courteous nod.

“My condolences to you for the deaths of your kin, your grace.” He would either bend the knee or demand something before it.

Everyone wants something, none of them offer anything to prove their worth. A lord’s so-called loyalty, Aemma has learned is not free.

Cassandra would be Lady Arryn and have her father reinstated as Lord Baratheon, Joffrey would wed Great Uncle Malentine’s only daughter, nine year old Daena, to ensure his claim goes uncontested for generations to come while Lord Royce demanded a match to replace him with, Sabitha wanted House Vypren for her daughter, Joan, and the Reach wanted to bleed her dry because they blamed her for all the problems their kin caused the realm.

“My thanks, my lord.” Aemma had an inkling as to what Stark would want, but she needed to see what else he would want beyond the Pact of Ice and Fire.

“There are rumors that you were participant in your husband’s murder.”

Well at least he got to the point.

“Just rumors, my husband was murdered by his own followers. They have been arrested and tried; I assure you.” Aemma had turned the tables on the council and arrested them all the moment she returned to the Red Keep as the last monarch standing. “The war is over; I thank you for leal service to me even after my brothers’ deaths.”

They were awaiting trial, well, those who were confirmed participants were arrested and tried. Whether their families cared to ransom them back or they’d be sent to the chopping block was left to Daemon, the generals for the Riverlands, the Vale and now the North.

The war had been a costly beast. Even those who held most of their money and lands were hesitant to beg for mercy. But there were people here complicit of her mother’s death and the ensuing bloodshed, and while Aemma was generous, her mercy had limits.

Cregan Stark would allow her the opportunity to show her claws.

Unfortunately, he had claws as well. He wouldn’t leave without showing them either.

“By whose hand and at whose word? Oldtown has not put down their swords, Lord Borros has not either, and you hold in your dungeons. If we march now on the Stormlands and the Reach, we will have taken their seats before winter comes.” The burly man speaks with authority and makes a good case for his cause, but Aemma will have to say no to this.

Too much has been lost, and they simply cannot afford more bloodshed. Besides, as the Starks say, winter is coming, and they should focus more on that.

“A good plan, and meant with good intention, but I do not intend to take their castles with violence.” Just a threat that she will.

Jaehaerys threatened Rogar Baratheon with Vermithor, Vhagar or Caraxes would do, Silverwing too, but she shouldn’t be flying I to her enemies’ stronghold if she can help it. If not ,well, Lady Tyrell can execute Garmund Hightower, and dear uncle Borros would be publicly executed but not before making Cassandra his heir.

The loss of status, the divestment of holdings, and other assets sometimes hurt more than a physical blow. Baratheon couldn’t afford to lose face now that his son was born, Hightower couldn’t lose another son, not when Samantha has not become pregnant since a misscarriage, and Lyonel refuses to wed because he is fucking Samantha.

Those were usually more effective than terrorizing people with actual violence.

Her grandfather, and hand until a better man is found, speaks, “You speak of taking Storm’s End, Oldtown, and Casterly Rock, my lord, but the men who held those seats were slain in battle, every one. Small boys and suckling babes sit in their places now, no threat to us. Grant them honorable terms, and they will bend the knee.”

She should’ve had him arrested too, but there had been no real proof of his involvement. Besides, he was her grandfather, and that would look bad. Her allies from the beginning were spared. Those who stuck out until the bitter end learned their lesson the hard way.

“Small boys become large men in time,” he replied, assuming her grandfather was the one pulling the strings, “a babe sucks down his mother’s hate with his mother’s milk. Finish these foes now, or those of us not in our graves in twenty years will rue our folly when those babes strap on their father’s swords and come seeking after vengeance.”

“King Aegon said the same and died for it. Had he heeded our counsel and offered peace and pardon to his foes, he might be sitting with us here today.” Aemma warns, reminding the Lord that no one made decisions for her here.

“Is that why you poisoned him?”

Ah ha, so he didn’t believe her! Why does no one believe her?!

“I. Did. Not. Poison. Him!

If I say the war is over, it is because I, Aemma Targaryen, say it is over! You may be Lord of Winterfell, but do not forget I am Queen by right of blood and marriage!” Aemma shouts at him, standing up to him at eye level because they are almost the same height.

Even worse, in her anger, she had slapped the Wolf of Winterfell.

[lya-dustin]

Growth

Or Aemond breaks up with his mistress/friend with benefits, Lady Jena Wylde but doesn't tell her why.

Takes place in my fic, All is Bliss

Cw: abuse of power, mentions of nonconsenual sex and Aegon being show!Aegon

Thanks @emilykaldwen for the request of "I am sorry that you found out this way"

“Couldn’t you be man enough to say it to my face?” Jena took his book away to make sure she had all his attention.

Aemond had broken things off with her, he’d sent an impersonal message through the page who delivered their correspondence and with Aegon’s permission gave into his desire for his brother’s wife.

“I am sorry that you found out this way.” He apologized out of guilt of tossing Jena, his friend and former lover, out of his life like that.

Normally he wouldn’t have cared, Aemond wasn’t raised to truly care about other people’s feelings especially people his mother doesn’t like.

But Aemma cared, she didn’t like hurting others and he supposed being in her constant company had infected him with empathy.

“You could have told me, instead I am told just as Aegon tells me I am to be his new mistress.” There is no mention of her having consented.

Doesn’t surprise him one bit. Aegon never waited for a yes because it could be a no and knows mother won’t ever dare to stop him because she can’t give grandsire a perfect puppet if she corrected his most heinous habit.

Aemma had admitted she had never even been asked if she wanted to have marital relations with him when he visited her chambers.

If Rhaenyra ordered Aegon’s death when she ascends the throne it might actually be what he deserves.

“I had not expected for Aegon to do that, usually he waits longer and plies ladies with drink to get a drunken yes from them.” The one-eyed prince has never lied to Jena, made no sense to start that now. “I am sorry if this has hurt our friendship, Jen.”

“I suppose I can forgive you, your brother, is well, your brother.”Jena is taken aback by his words, surprised as he is about this new trait of his and assumed he’d misspoken earlier.

He only ever apologized to his mother, Helaena, and Criston, one or twice to Daeron and never Aegon.

“One can hope.”

“And considering how bad Aegon is in the sack, I can forgive sweet princess Aemma from stealing you away. Gods know the girl needs to have a good fuck every night to endure your family.” Harsh, but nothing she hasn’t said before. “If the gods are good, your seed will be as useless as your brother’s.”

[evita-shelby]

Thanks Lee 🖤

1) technically 30 on ao3, but its more like 200+ on this blog alone as i write a lot of drabbles and one shots, like maybe 15 in my @lya-dustin blog

May have written more than that

2) my most successful one overall is All is Bliss (in the court of Aemma the great) in ao3 followed by Between the Shadow and the Soul(my og Tommy x Eva fic), here its a one shot called the Meek shall inherit the world which i personally don't really like cuz idk.

3)no pressure tag: @moral-terpitude @deadendtracks @arcielee @assortedseaglass @look-at-the-soul @urgonnaneedabiggership @areyenotfondofmelobster @peakyblindas @johnathancanines

#1 How many total fics have you written #2 What's your most successful one (if you know the answer to this). #3 Send this to your fic writing mutuals ❤❤

Thank you for ask 🥰 I had to clean up my masterlists before I could answer 🙈

1.I've got about 120 fics if you count the blurbs with some of my moodboards too (I was expecting even less tbh)

2.Well, I'm not entirely sure how to measure that...

if we are talking note count then it's definitely one of my Hangman fics

but I appreciate more of actual interaction than just likes so I, personally, wouldn't say that's my most successful one bc peaky fandom tends to be much better in that regard 🥰

For me, one of the best fic experiences was writing the Billy the cat drabble series. The comments really kept me going there and I had fun writing it too

3.I'm tagging instead of sending bc I'm on my phone and I'm lazy. So no pressure tags: @stardustmorozov @marvelmusing @zablife @raincoffeeandfandoms @drabbles-mc @withmyteeth @storiesbyrhi @autumnleaves1991-blog @ddejavvu @the-little-ewok

[lya-dustin]

All is Bliss

Chapter 51

Cw: mentions of blood sacrifices, bullying, and murder

Gif by @beyondtheciouds

Taglist @mercedesdecorazon @ewanmitchellcrumbs @darylandbethfanforever9 @watercolorskyy @alexandria-millie @sweethoneyblossom1

Aegon remembers all the times he teased Aemond over his egg not hatching.

Its had been a smoky gray with red flecks given to him by Laenor and clutchmate to Jace's Vermax and Aemma’s annoying little dwarf dragon, Elēnar.

It had a name, some name that was meant to inspire fear, but made Aegon want to bully him some more.

Once mama caught him offering his blood to it after Aegon told him to, father had shouted at Aegon, taken Aemond aside and given him Barth's book on dragons while mother shouted at father for shouting at him only to slap him when she turned to yell at him, and he pointed it out.

Now as the king tries to make a second Sunfyre for himself, he finds himself looking for the dragonglass dagger Aemma keeps under her pillow for her protection.

They haven’t slept in the same bed since he was poisoned, mainly because he finds it gross as she told him she is to bleed for the forty days after the birth. Aemma had about a week or so to go and appreciated having the bed to herself.

She keeps busy, restless in her cage like the dragon she is and much like Silverwing, she does a good job of pretending she is fine as she is.

This morning he finds her reading her correspondence and having a late breakfast. She wears lilac today, brings out the purple of her eyes and matched the tie at the end of her long braid.

“What are you up to this morning, dear wife?” he asks completely forgetting what he came here for.

Aemma was always lovely, sure she was not the most beautiful, but she was kind and good company and had the old blood of Valyria running through her veins just like him. It would be nice to see her fly again, to see her throw her head back and laugh as Silver’s wingtips skim the ocean.

Once Baratheon wins this war for them, he will give her the freedom to fly again.

Of course, not often because it would look wrong when the king had no dragon of his own.

“Just some letters, Aunt Elenda wants me to take my cousins into our household, apologizes for the whole trying to drug me and almost killing your brother the night before his wedding, oh, and wants to confirm if Uncle Borros is still the man you want as Aenys’ godsfather.” She said showing him the letter as if he would doubt her word.

Aegon trusts her, a stupid thing to do, but he knows Aemma would never hurt him nor try to kill him. He quite likes her, finds himself missing waking up to her in the mornings.

“Tyland suggested him, I guess he had sent the letters already. I know you wanted Aemond to be Aenys’ godsfather, but we can keep Baratheon loyal to us without promising him a royal groom.” Aegon admits knowing why she wants Aemond to be made the babe’s godsfather. If either were to die, Aemond would be the man to raise Aenys as one would a son, if he was close to the boy no one would be suspicious of it and his overly familiar way with his wife not be too obvious.

The reason Aegon readily agreed to make Borros his godsfather.

Besides, Aemond fled Crossed Elms like a coward claimed to have dragon dreams knowing those tree worshiping cunts would believe him. Had he fought they would have won the battle, his brother just won’t admit it. Claims that the fucking riverlords had archers and the commanders too experienced for them to do more than to wave a peace banner and hope for the best.

If he had been there and had Sunfyre, the Riverlands would have burned, and he’d be a fucking warrior king like the conqueror.

Instead, he is here, stuck in this castle because he has been unmanned by his wife’s own fucking grandmother and humiliated by his own little brothers. Even Daeron went down as Daeron the Daring as he died like a man should.

When Borros comes, Aegon intends to lead the battle. He did it once and his sword arm is strong enough to fight, how hard could it be? And what better way to announce it than by entering the tourney.

“I suppose you are right, husband, especially because it will remind people that both your mother and my great-grandfather were brown of hair and eye. A shame Borros refused Cousin Joffrey, we could have had the Vale and Aunt Jeyne would be here to show she also has brown hair.” Aemma pretends it doesn’t bother her. Does a great deal of that since they married, Aegon wondered if one day she will like him and trust him like he trusts her.

He envies Aemond for getting to see the true Aemma, not the poised lady hiding her dragon’s blood underneath silks and brocade.

Aegon would’ve preferred Daeron had been the one to return and not Aemond. Daeron didn’t steal his wife’s heart from under his nose.

“If anyone dares to insinuate you cuckolded me, I will have their heads, dear Aemma. I plan on making sure they get the message at Aenys’ anointing next week.”

“Harwin used to have the worst nightmares as a boy, always dreaming he and father were burning to death and Larys’ laughing as he stood outside the door.” Alys speaks softly as she nursed Aenys.

The babe had been small and frail when he was born and yet the moment Alys became his nurse that night, he awoke as healthy as if he had not been born early. Her witch’s blood refused to let her create new life but made her able to nourish life that already existed.

“I had nothing to do with their deaths.” The queen mother says even though she remembers asking Larys to do what he must to bring her father back to court. Larys had been using her, like all men have done, and yet this time she had the power to say no.

But she hadn’t said no.

Instead, she prayed for forgiveness and put it out of her mind when word of their deaths came just as the raven from Daemon did.

“Just because you say it outloud does not make it true, your grace.” The witch chides her like a mother does to lying child. “I know you agreed to it for your cause.”

“Then why join me? Why kill Harwin’s lover and his sons?” the queen asked hoping that was the answer as to why everything had gone wrong.

“To get to Larys, to have the Blacks kill all those who stand between me and Harrenhal. I work the corridors of self-interest just as anyone here. Now with the war lost and my dear little brother getting his comeuppance, you are of no use to me ,your grace.” The witch said as if it were just something trivial that had failed and not a system of governance.

As if it was always meant to fall.

“You said it was Aegon’s destiny to be king!” the queen cannot comprehend why Alicent would make her do such things if it had not been meant to happen.

“And it was, I never said for how long. Two years is more than Aegon the Uncrowned got.” Alys put the babe in his basket without burping him first and went to stand by the window.

Why did no one else seem to care about this more? Why did no one see that for her family to be safe, Aegon needs to be king and her as his right hand?

Aemma had poisoned her sons against her an now her most trusted ally is led astray by her.

“Oh, no, the little queen did not seduce me from your side, your grace. Our paths are no longer aligned. You stand at the end of your road while I still have so far to go.” the witch answered as if she had spoken aloud.

“You tricked me! You had me sell my soul to the Stranger and damn myself to the Seventh Hell!” Alicent begins to see her with horror.

And yet the witch just stands there by the open window as if nothing was happening.

It would be so easy to kill her. She could lie and say she was going to hurt the little bastard, that she cast a spell on him and she as his grandmother only meant to save him.

Alys would die instantly on the spikes in the dry moat, no one would know.

What is one more kill?

“You said you would do anything to make Aegon king, you agreed to the price, your grace.” Alys coos at her making the queen mother snap and barrel towards her like an angry bull.

Just over the window.

That is all she needs.

And yet when they stand over the edge, Alys overpowers her and instead, Alicent is forced to look down at her grave.

“Now be a good girl for mummy and pay it.” The witch whispers in her ear like a lover and tosses her over the edge as if she weighed as much as little Aenys.

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 48

Cw: Butcher’s Ball, childbirth complications, hallucinations, attempted murder

Gif by @daemonsdarksister

Taglist @mercedesdecorazon @alexandria-millie @watercolorskyy @darylandbethfanforever9 @ewanmitchellcrumbs

Their men were laid out as if they had been killed at a feast.

They have been like that in every village they have marched through these four days.

A grotesque thing Aemond is glad he isn’t walking through.

Because his mission is of great urgency, he attacks only if he must. House Darry folds at the sight of him and Lady Darry tearfully asks him to spare her infant son after Criston obliterated her husband and eldest sons in battle when they first marched out of Kingslanding.

Criston’s hand shook as if remembering an ill prophecy and agreed no harm will come to those who surrendered.

Something he hadn’t done when they set out. Had the chill of the Stranger in the air caught to him too?

Crossed Elms proves that nagging feeling right.

Their enemy had more men, fresh horses and every advantage they lacked.

Save for a dragon.

Archers attack them in woods unknown to them, Aemond is not spared as he tries to evade them in the air.

Vhagar’s too large and old to perform like a younger and sleeker dragon.

And they knew that.

So he and Cole call for a parley, just enough to buy them time.

“If I strike my banners, do you promise us our lives?” he asked the three of them.

Three seasoned and grizzly commanders, such men bore scars and dents in their armor enough to make Cole look green as grass.

Aemond felt like a squire pretending to be a man. Like the little boy who used to wear Daemon’s winged helm as he stand before Ser Garibald Grey, Pate of Longleaf ,now called Longleaf the Lionslayer, and Rodrick ‘Roddy the Ruin’ Dustin.

Men who won the Fishfeed with only their wits and skill.

They have no chance against them even with Vhagar.

“I made my promise to the dead,” Ser Garibald replied. “I told them I would build a sept for them out of traitors’ bones. I don’t have near enough bones yet, so…”

No.

They choose to fight on knowing their victory is assured.

If he dies he will die with Aemma’s name in his lips, like all the knights in the songs.

Ser Criston answered, “If there is to be battle here, many of your own will die as well.”

The Northman, Roderick Dustin, laughed at his words, saying, “That’s why we come. Winter’s here. Time for us to go. No better way to die than sword in hand.”

Ser Criston drew his longsword from its scabbard. “As you will it. We can begin here, the four of us. One of me against the three of you. Will that be enough to make a fight of it?”

It won’t, they won’t give in. They know better than to let them live.

So Aemond interrupts with the thing that may make them change their mind.

“The King is dying, our mother’s own cupbearer poisoned him after her brother failed to kill me. Queen Aemma, the queen you fight to liberate is nearing her time. If you let us go you have my word that her son will be named king and I will not move a finger to take what is hers by right.” The prince regent said hoping to make them change their minds.

“We know, we took down your ravens and your riders. The question is, how do you know that?” Red Robb Rivers and his sister, Alysanne Blackwood, asked coming down the ridge with their archers.

Oh, they were fucked.

“Dragon Dreams, I have been plagued by them for the past five nights. The king in his bed weak by the poison and the queen in hers as she brings forth her babe.” He lies. Better blame his Valyrian blood than tell them the witch is in his mother’s employ. “For all I know both my brother and his wife are already dead and the babe with them.”

The men are divided about it, but those of the north, especially the silver haired Crannogman with eyes as green as Vhagar’s flames seem to believe him.

“The First Men have Seers too. You may go, but only you.” Roddy the Ruin said, thank the gods for the Northman and their superstitions.

“Go, your brother needs you more than I.” Criston said as Aemond looked at him for the last time. “Godspeed, your highness.”

Vhagar is scarcely in the air when what’s left of their men and the Lord Commander are killed by a rain of arrows.

Garibald Grey would later call it Butcher’s Ball.

The babe is taking its sweet time to come.

The queen has been in labor for a day, and the midwives and maesters are close to giving up.

She has walked up and down the hall, she has been given castor oil, she has been moved by the midwives on the blanket and nothing is working.

“There is a way.” A maester suggested as Silverwing echoes her rider’s scream.

There is no real need for it, not yet.

But the queen knows the whore is the reason her son is half dead in his bed.

If she’s gone, Aegon will live and so would her two younger sons.

The only way her family is safe is if all of Rhaenyra’s family is dead.

They see will see you as you are, the dead princess whispers behind her as blood runs down Alicent’s hands.

Yes, they will, they will see a mother who would do anything for her children, the queen bites her tongue lest they think her mad.

Her aunt went mad, Denyse who was committed to the Motherhouse for fear of shaming them.

They would lock her up too ,if they knew.

“No. We cannot.” Gerardys and Orywle are of the same mind on this.

If she dies any chance for peace is gone.

If she dies like her namesake did, Aegon will be known as her killer.

But her family will be safe from her and that is all that matters.

Queen Alicent chooses to override them. “The king’s heir is at risk, if we wait longer both she and the babe will be lost.

If we must choose, we need to choose the king’s son over his mother.”

There is clear horror in their faces as she says this.

Even Alys cannot hide it in hers.

“Your grace, will you not reconsider it?” the aging midwife pleaded with her. The same woman who helped bring Aemma into the world now being told to help them take her out of it.

“If we do not decide now---” the queen pretended to care for her gooddaughter's wellbeing and yet she is interrupted by the all too familiar roar.

Aemond.

She had told Alys not to summon Aemond, why had she gone against her wishes?

If he is here he will choose her.

How can she save her family if they refuse to let her?

“Maester Orwyle, do what you must to save the prince.” The queen ordered and the man did as ordered.

He can hear screams, those of his men and Aemma’s in Silverwing’s roars ringing in his ears as he rides his coal black horse like a madman.

Aegon was weak but not dying, Aemma was having trouble delivering their babe.

His mother had ordered for them to save the babe at the cost of it’s mother.

This was the news he received the moment he arrived.

We have lost the Riverlands, was all he had to say in turn.

It would be a mercy if Aegon died now.

If Aemma died with their babe, Joffrey would be made king with his Lady of Runestone beside him. Nothing would stop Daemon from burning the city to the ground nor his men from sacking it.

If Aegon died, but Aemma lived, Aemond would be king and have the upperhand in negotiations.

There would be other children and even if she is left barren she had three brothers and two cousins to provide heirs for House Targaryen.

They would wed and all will be righted before winter sets in.

“Whatever you do, save the queen.” He orders as he raced against time.

It helped both were in the same suite of rooms saving him the trouble of having to choose which bedside he goes to.

Her screams bring a chill to his bones not unlike Criston’s and his men’s.

“If you fail to save the queen I will kill all of you myself.” Aemond runs to her instead of his brother.

Aemma cries out for him, covered in sweat, blood and tears.

They were going to cut her open. Mother had given the order.

The moment Aemma is safe, he will have her placed under custody.

His mother had very knowingly committed treason, but that look in her eyes speaks of madness.

Madness he’s never seen before.

“I’m here, Aemee, I’m here.” The prince takes her sweat covered hand and kissed it as if it would will her to keep fighting. “You can’t leave , not when I’ve only just returned, sweet girl.”

His reputation be damned, he won’t leave her and he won’t let his mother kill her.

[lya-dustin]

Delirium

de·​lir·​i·​um:an acute mental disturbance characterized by confused thinking and disrupted attention usually accompanied by disordered speech and hallucinations.

Or a small au for All is Bliss where Aemma misscarries and in her delirium beats the shit out of Alicent.

Inspired by that scene in Magnificent Century where a delirious Hürrem beats the shit out of Hatiçe who cursed her.

Tw: violence, misscarriage, madness and implied murdere

Aemma had known her misery would only go from bad to worse.

The Stranger is not done taking from her and the first week as Aegon’s Queen and Prisoner ends with blood just as it began.

She had felt the pains, seen the blood as the dawn began after another sleepless night.

Aemond holds her despite the bloody sheets, comforting her and himself for the death of their baby.

And yet, Aemma doesn’t grieve for it like he and the rest of the keep do.

She is burning on hatred, on rage, on grief for her mother, her grandmother and everyone who has died because of the war she never wanted.

She hates her. She hates Alicent now more than ever.

Alicent who no longer has the precious heir she wanted, Alicent who killed her mother and her baby sister, Alicent who ruined her life in the name of duty.

They give her milk of the poppy for the pain, for the sleepless nights and yet she roams the halls like a ghost because she cannot rest until Alicent and Aegon are dead.

The young queen sees her at the end of the hall, a green thing shrouded by a black web. A black spider web only she sees since they day they brought her back here in chains. Webs that emanate from Alys who sits in them like a green spider.

She’s told no one about those webs lest they think she has gone mad, but it all makes sense now.

Alicent had used Alys to kill her mother and take the throne.

“You should rest.” The auburn haired woman says with concern. As if she truly cared about her well-being.

Aemma only scoffed at her words. “I will rest when you are dead, your grace.”

“Aemma, you are grieving, you are in pain, you do not mean that.” The bitch of the Hightower continues speaking in a calm tone, almost motherly, as if she did not spend her entire adult life making others miserable.

Even worse, she comes and tries to touch her.

Aemma has always recoiled from her touch ever since she was child, there was always something about Alicent that made her feel sick to her stomach even then.

Now she knows why.

This time in her revulsion at feeling her clammy pale hands on her, the young queen reacts with violence.

She slaps the hand away and when her goodmother tries again, she hits harder and then the slaps turn to punches and before she knows it, Aemma is straddling her as she beats her to bloody pulp.

She is screaming, obscenities and cursing her the seventh hell for murdering her mother.

No one stops her, no one comes. Not Criston who’s too busy elsewhere, not her maids who fear her, not Alys who knows she will hang or burn or be split apart by carts because she won’t stop until she’s dead as well.

It is cathartic, primal and something she’s never been allowed to do. No wonder men are always in better moods after a spar or a melee or a hunt.

Sometimes what you need is violence. Sometimes what you need is to kill those who wronged you.

Aemma leaves the hall in the same daze she walked in with and wakes up with no recollection as to why her fists are raw and bloody.

She only knows it's been the first time in a week that she’s managed to sleep in peace.

[lya-dustin]

All is Bliss

Chapter 50

Cw:postpartum depression, refrenced murder, mental illness and intrigues

Gif by @merlinaddams

Taglist @mercedesdecorazon @alexandria-millie @watercolorskyy @sweethoneyblossom1 @ewanmitchellcrumbs

“I’ve never seen you hold him.” Aemond rewards her for this with a kiss on her shoulder.

“I held him when he was born.” The queen points out. It had taken her a few days to feel good enough to leave bed and see the babe.

Three weeks have passed, and she feels no interest in her own child.

What sort of mother did that make her?

There is no bond between her and the babe. Mother claimed she felt that instinctual and instant connection with all her children the moment they were put in her arms and yet…

Aemma cannot seem to make that connection that this is her son, and she must love him. Teora surmised it was due to the birth and that she’d only need to give it time.

And yet Aemond has no such problem and is in awe of the babe that has his nose, or so he says. Aemond who now steals away from court with the excuse of keeping her up to date on things just to see her and the babe.

One would say it was because blood called blood.

Aegon pays Aenys little mind, his arm isn’t strong enough to hold him and he’s never really cared about children to begin with. He came the morning after the birth, had the Septon bless them, gave her a necklace to match the crown he gave her on her nameday and gave Aenys his own dragon egg.

Aemma would have preferred the bronze and red one, but much like the pregnancy itself, she had no actual choice ---another factor that caused her to be so out of sorts.

Instead Aenys shares his cradle with a silver one shot through with iridescent gold to match the one Aemond gave Aegon before he sent him to his death.

A perfect mix between Silverwing and Sunfyre.

She wants to laugh as she remembers Otto arguing that Aegon was king because he had all the symbols.

All the symbols and the names were there to mark Aenys as Aegon’s and yet he does not even look like he was his, or even Aemond’s.

Aemma would have been afraid of the implications if she didn’t get to see those who called her mother a whore and her brothers bastards ardently defend why the baby has brown hair and possibly brown eyes.

“If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead.” It is a thank you for saving me, and while she doesn’t say it, he heard it all the same.

“As would I.” her secret husband admits as he helps her sit on the rocking chair Alys uses to soothe and care for Aenys as if she couldn’t do it herself.

This was news to her; all she knows is that the greens lost the Riverlands, and the blacks are closing in on the city.

The particulars are as unknown to her as the mysteries of maternal instinct.

“I’m sorry, it must have been difficult for you.” She said softly, wishing she could offer more than platitudes. She could offer him a chance to end the war through her, but she needs to be sure he won’t say no, or worse tells Aegon.

He loves his brother, even now that Aemond has been blamed for their failure in the riverlands. They would make up soon enough just as all siblings do, especially now that news has confirmed Daeron’s murder just before the second battle of Tumbleton.

Aegon wants a statue of his brother, like that of the Titan of Braavos and made in gold. As if such a feat were humanly possible.

“It was, but they don’t see it that way. To them I am a craven green boy who ran and let his men get butchered while Criston died honorably.” His anger hides his grief and fear well, just not from her.

“If you hadn’t come, I would be dead, and Daemon would be burning the city to ash.” She reminds him and voices the reason she cannot simply adore the baby in her arms as freely as he did. “Alys said she summoned you because your lovely mother had always intended to kill me once the babe is born.”

Aemma would have been murdered. It is something she had hoped had been just her being so out of it that she misheard it, but Alys had then fed her some fortifying broth and explained that Alicent had believed her to be the one behind Aegon’s assassination and intended to kill her.

I summoned Prince Aemond the moment I learned of her intentions, the witch had said and somehow the young queen believed her.

“She said the same to me and Aegon, mother will be sent to the motherhouse in Oldtown once we can spare the men to send her there.” Aemond agreed with her about her suspicions on Alys’ loyalties. “Mother cannot hurt you and so far, everyone believes she left court willingly. If Alys tries anything, she is to be handed over to the royal confessor and the Faith.”

What was the witch’s agenda? She had been remarkably close to Alicent and now she was casting her lot with Aemma. Very fishy, but then again, every rat is jumping off this sinking ship.

Jena has had many ladies and lords seeking to shower them in favors in hopes of surviving this imminent defeat. Many gifts to her and her allies, but not all of them are true and it’s a tricky thing to find which one is the wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Aemma will have a lot to do once she returns to court next week after the High Septon purifies her and gives a thanksgiving mass for her and Aenys.

“That’s not all, isn’t it?” she asks, knowing he means to say something that scares him more than leaving again.

The war was as good as won, the city would be sieged and while Baratheon and the Reach were close, their enemies were closer.

Tyland Lannister names him Master of Ships while styling himself as Hand.

The meaning is not lost on those assembled. Ironrod hides his allegiance well, but it was clear to all the only green in this table where the two green eyes of the Lord Hand.

Queen Alicent has been removed from Court after her stunt and is no longer to attend the Small Council as an adviser.

There were rumors of madness, of her speaking to ghosts and claiming Aenys is a bastard.

To think the queen mother used to be the sullen little girl who cried to herself because Laenor and Rhaenyra could spend hours on their dragons leaving her to wait alone with Laena.

If she is mad, it would explain her attempt at murder.

Corlys hopes she is mad. It would invite a kinder fate for her. She’d be taken to a motherhouse they could trust, likely the one in Driftmark so Helaena and Aemond may visit her with their children, cared for and treated gently as Aemma was not raised to be vindictive and believes in kindness.

If she weren’t, he would not be surprised to find the queen being left for Syrax by Daemon and Teora.

Teora, who had never hated anyone and raised Aemma into the queen she is now, had demanded he do something about the queen mother.

Aemond and Aegon had taken action and by the end of the week, Alicent had been put under custody. There was a matter that had them arrest their own mother and have it made to look like her willingly going into seclusion and pray to the Seven for peace and a healthy life for the infant prince.

Ellyn Waters had been killed by her or so Mysaria had learned. A ritual the rivers woman did to heal Aegon from his injuries that were supposed to kill him.

The White Worm had learned a great many things, like how in the seventh hell did Lyonel Strong have a shadowbinding daughter with a witchwoman selling fortunes in the city.

The witch would have to die. Even if she was only acting on someone else’s command, such a power couldn’t be allowed to exist.

And the witch knows it too, Corlys can see it in her gaze as she tends to the babe and Aemma now that her mistress is in her gilded cage.

“Lord Borros has sent ravens; the Vulture King has been dealt with and his army marches this way with the men from the Reach under Lord Peake’s command.” Lannister tosses the letter onto the table as if daring them to doubt his word.

The Reach and the Stormlands still didn’t have enough men to push back the North, the Riverlands and the Vale.

There was only one way to end this war: depose Aegon and instate Aemma. Aemma had a son now, Aegon’s life was now fair game as was Aemond’s. If they stepped away peacefully, they may be spared.

“It will not be enough, my lords. We only have one dragon, even if Prince Aemond were to lead the charge, the war is lost.” Ironrod pretends to mull over the pros and cons of Lannister’s last stand before turning the offer down.

They have a way to make peace: Aemma. If they had Aegon abdicate in favor of his wife by his own will, it would all end in a better way.

But that won’t happen, not when Aegon refuses to accept defeat.

The only way to get this war to end without unnecessary bloodshed was to coup Aegon and place Aemma on the throne.

Hence why this meeting did not include Prince Aemond. Aemond would never kill his own brother, kinslaying was too grievous a sin and no matter what happens a brother is a brother.

Aegon must die for this war to end.

This time Corlys isn’t going to fuck it up.

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 22

Warnings: description of a hangover,vomit, implied attempted murder, mentions of pregnancy and menstruation, death, ghosts

Taglist:@mercedesdecorazon @aemondx @darylandbethfanforever9 @sweethoneyblossom1 @ewanmitchellcrumbs @watercolorskyy

Gif by @maggie-stormborn

The last thing he remembers is thinking the wine tasted wrong.

Before he could say anything, everything slowed down and no noise left his mouth as his tongue felt thick and numb.

Now he is awake in a strange room with a hangover from hell and his eye on a clean handkerchief on the nightstand.

Aemond struggles to sit up and barely registers himself in a nightshirt and, thankfully, his own underpants.

He hardly indulges this much, the last time he got this drunk he had woken up to Jena fresh as a daisy teasing him for being such a lightweight.

The prince hardly reaches the chamber pot before the wine repeats itself.

“There, there, brother, let it out.” Helaena’s hands are cool on his forehead and talks to him like he was a baby and not a man grown.

In his confusion he almost calls her mother.

“Where am I?” he asks, leaning on her for comfort as she wipes his mouth and continues to fuzz over him.

“Why, you are in Dragonstone. Sea Dragon Tower, to be exact.” Hel answers and has her attendants call the maester, and worse, Aemma.

“How did I get here?” he asks wincing at his own words.

He’s never drinking again, Aemond tells himself as he shuts his eye to stop the nausea and pain the light causes.

He is smelly and still struggling to even sit, yet he is fine.

A relief because whatever they put in the wine had him unconscious for the entire night and even most of the next morning.

“How in the seventh hell did I end up here, Aemee?” he asks after he has been seen to by Gerardys and given a fortifying hair of the dog.

“Do you remember the wine and how I told you Storm’s End was a trap?” she asks, hoping he does not remember the slight hinting to her pregnancy before that.

After he had fainted from the sweetsleep laced wine, Aemma had tried her best to get him to wake up. Somehow she had gotten him onto her bed and went as far as to throw water at his face to get him to wake up.

He had mumbled in his sleep, turned on his side and began to snore.

Had that not been a trap set to capture her, Aemma would have just left him in Storm’s End.

It was Baela’s idea to take him with them as both a hostage and in case Baratheon had meant to kill her with a wrong dose of sweetsleep.

Baela who helped her roll him into the sheet and convinced a half asleep Joffrey into carrying him to the courtyard through the servants corridors.

How they weren’t caught is a mystery she doesn’t care to find out.

Even worse, how Aemond survived being chained like luggage on her dragon all the way here, is something she has no way to explain.

“Where’s Vhagar?” he asks once she is done with the strange tale of how they kidnapped him.

“The Dragonmont or the beach near it, she was seen trying to entice the Cannibal away from Meleys, mating season has yet to end this year and she is making up for lost time by the looks of it.” She answered placing the cold cloth on his forehead, they were alone and with no audience the queen was free to sit at his bedside despite his smell making her nauseous. “She followed us here, was very annoyed with me until we un-swaddled you and she saw you were fine. When you didn’t wake, we feared you were dead or getting there.”

“Hmm. I suppose I can forgive that. You were only seeking to protect yourself ---” He said as if she had asked for forgiveness and then added as he moved his hand to her flat belly “ ---and our little one.”

She could lie and said she made it up to get Borros’ attention.

But she doesn’t.

Instead the young queen placed her hand over his.

Had been a fortnight since she had seen him let alone touched him.

Just having his hand on the low part of her stomach had her feeling butterflies.

“That is why you went there, to tell me.” He concludes despite how out of sorts he is.

“No one else knows, not even Gerardys. He believes my monthlies did not come from the grief.” Aemma confessed knowing it won’t be long before her delicate condition is discovered. “If anyone deserves to know first, it should be you.”

And after telling him that she was supposed to end things because she doesn’t want Cassandra to be hurt by their affair nor their child hurt by the Baratheons.

Cass was her father’s daughter, even if Maris was his favorite.

Cassandra was humiliated, and her family insulted so much they had to send Joff to Wyl and start with plan b, but she will recover from that.

She was young, pretty and anyone would be lucky to have the eight and ten year old girl as a bride, but thank the gods she is not Aemond’s wife.

Aemma couldn’t bear it if he belonged to someone else.

“That way I know why you wished to end things. To keep our child safe from them.” He concludes, his hand still on her stomach tracing circles with his thumb.

That was one of the reasons, but Aemond has never really cared about anyone beyond a handful of people.

“And now I am your hostage.” He drops his hand from her stomach, but keeps it on her knee as if she might disappear if he doesn’t touch her.

If he didn’t smell slightly of vomit, she would have gotten into bed with him.

It has been so long since she has felt safe and loved and comforted.

“I prefer honored guest.” She said just because he’d give a sensible chuckle at her words. “Hostage implies you’d be chained to a bed or thrown in the cells to rot.”

“I wouldn’t mind being chained to your bed.” He supplies with the smallest hint of a smirk. “Would make us even, come to think of it.”

Aemma feels her face heat up remembering with great fondness that time he tied her up in his bed.

“If you weren’t hungover, it would take more than my duties to get me out of your bed, dearest one.”

“Fear not, I am not dead.

Had I not gone to her rooms to give her my condolences for my sister’s passing, it is possible that my dear niece would have been the victim of a miscalculation in how much sweetsleep was needed to sedate her.

Fearing that had been an attempt on her life and I had been victim to it, she and her companions, the Lady Baela and Ser Joffrey Arryn, smuggled me out of the keep onto her dragon and brought me to Dragonstone.

Maester Gerardys confirmed the dose had been wrong and had she drank the wine, she would have died given the dose was too great for a woman of her measurements.

Save for the aftereffects of consuming such concoction, I am well and treated with all respect due to my station by my hosts.

I would leave, but Vhagar has been caught up in the last legs of this year’s mating season and until it is over, I am the Queen’s honored guest.

Given it has been seven years since Vhagar has coiled with any male dragons, it may be she is making up for lost time and I expect a sizable clutch of eggs to excuse her odd behavior.

From what I have been told, Lord Baratheon is far too busy with the Vulture King encroaching on his lands to join either side.

After violating the guest right by giving his royal kinswoman tainted wine, I have decided that my betrothal to his daughter, the Lady Cassandra, should be broken.

If you wish to wed Daeron to his younger daughters, I will not stop you, but do warn my younger brother to pass on any wine brought to his chambers or at least have the servant taste it first.

Your son,

Aemond Targaryen.

Postscript: send me my clothing, I cannot stand to be dressed in Daemon’s hand-me downs.”

Had Alicent not been forewarned by Alys that night, she would have been shocked.

She is shocked at how unbothered he is, however.

“The king has called for the council to meet, he has gotten the little queen’s list of demands.” Alys interrupts, coming with a dress for her to wear in her arms.

When the queen arrived to the Throne Room whatever had happened had been over, or came to an end when Aegon himself took her father’s brooch off his lapel and gave it to Ser Criston.

“My new Hand is a steel fist,” he boasted, angry and eyes red with drink. “We are done with writing letters.”

Ser Criston wasted no time in proving his mettle. His face growing harder as he clutched the brooch in his palm.

“It is not for you to plead for support from your lords, like a beggar pleading for alms,” he advised Aegon. “You are the lawful king of Westeros, and those who deny it are traitors. It is past time they learned the price of treason.”

“And if they kill your brother? Have you thought about that, my son?” Alicent asked knowing the answer and hoping it will be different.

“My whore of a wife is in love with him, she would never hurt him. Why do you think she stopped his wedding, mother?” Aegon laughed bitterly.

Why couldn’t she love me, it said.

“Send for the High Septon, have him end my marriage on the grounds of adultery.” He orders and the queen is the only one to stand against him.

“No. You need an heir now more than ever, once she gives you a son, you may expose her and send her away. I only ask that you think this through, Aegon.” She said buying the girl time.

Alys said she was with child at the last supper, that child is the only thing that assures this war will end soon and not let Aegon sacrifice his brother to get to his wife.

Aenys, she had said the babe would be named.

Until Aenys Targaryen is born, Aemma and Aemond are safe.

The next morning, Alicent sees Helaena, Aemond and Daeron in the pile of headless servants, knights and nobles Criston had executed in his first hour as Hand of the King.

“You knew what would happen when you made him king, Alicent, and you did it anyways.” A young Rhaenyra says over her shoulder as she holds a crying babe in her arms.

When Alicent turns the ghosts are gone and the bodies stop being those of her children and granddaughter.

"Now you shall pay the cost."

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 33

Cw: murder, mentions of sex, pornography, mentions of a past miscarriage, slavery, child abuse, sexual exploitation

Gif by @aemondx

Taglist @mercedesdecorazon @darylandbethfanforever9 @watercolorskyy @sweethoneyblossom1 @ewanmitchellcrumbs

Aegon’s recovery is estimated to take the better part of the year.

His arm and burns would heal up nicely in some months, but the hip fracture required time. Not just to heal, but to regain his full mobility.

Until the king was able to walk unassisted and have his looks return to what they were, Aemond ruled in his stead.

Aemma had been banned from court for her defiance, but for the price of having Aegon watch, she was now seated in mother’s chair at the end of the table.

Aemond had been against it even if Aemma had found a loophole for them to exploit.

As far as Aegon knows, Aemond is refusing to touch Aemma because she didn’t consult him about their deal.

Aemma and Aemond had talked it over and agreed to do give him a show once he delivered on his promises.

So far, Aegon had gotten Corlys out of the Black Cells, Baela into Aemma’s household and this morning Aemma was to receive all the powers, titles, and privileges of a queen even if half the Small Council is against it.

The coronation and the introduction of a joint rule could wait until after the birth, but today’s most important matter was that Aemma be officially installed as Queen Consort.

But not with her father’s name.

All queens who married into House Targaryen kept their family name given how rare such a thing was.

Aegon had agreed to letting her keep her new name because he is desperate to win her over and end the war.

Mother and grandfather were adamant that she remains Aemma Velaryon just as mother remained Alicent Hightower to remove any chance of getting the joint rule they know she is after.

They went as far as insinuating she wasn’t proud of her Valyrian heritage in their arguments.

“As proud as I am of my family name, my surrender was signed as Queen Aemma Targaryen. If I were to revert to my former name, it would make my surrender invalid as I ceased to be Aemma Velaryon the day my mother died.” Aemma had Jena and Samantha poring over books to find a way to make the small council keep her regnal name as it was.

If that didn’t work, Aegon was alert enough to veto the Council and make them all look worse than they already do.

The slight increase in taxes already had the smallfolk already sharpening their knives, someone spread a rumor about mother killing little Ellyn and one about grandfather killing father in his sleep.

“What does the Prince Regent say about this matter?” Orwyle asked knowing he’d side with them.

It was Orwyle, Wylde and Lannister backing her.

Orwyle because he had always been in Rhaenyra’s corner and knew they wouldn’t kill him, Wylde because Jena would make him suck his own cock for the rest of the year if he didn’t and Lannister because they need her to call off the Ironborn.

Cole always took mother’s side, Larys remained neutral, and grandfather didn’t have a formal seat at the table anymore but still had a say in these matters.

The Green Council is going to hate it when Lord Celtigar, Vaemond’s goodbrother, is made Master of Coin.

“Queen Aemma is by birth and marriage a Targaryen, she claimed Queen Alysanne’s dragon and the marriage contract negotiated by my late father states she must become Aemma Targaryen upon ascension.” He had responded in a much more poetic way last night, but what he had said and how he said it was not at all proper.

Something Aemma remembered given the way her periwinkle eyes dilated, and she bit her lower lip as subtly as she could.

“I see no problem with it, neither does my brother.”

Mother scoffed at his words; she thought him a weak man ruled by Aemma.

She thinks the same of Aegon now.

“She rose against him, why reward her for not submitting to her husband?” His mother argued as if ‘she’ wasn’t right there.

“Had she been sent a raven, this could have been avoided. She received neither condolences nor an invitation to her husband’s coronation.” Aemma replied facetiously and reminded them all that this was their fault.

“There was no time—” mother said in her defense, a stupid lie because there was time to do this except Cole killed Beesbury who had that great suggestion and grandfather shot down all of Orwyle's ravens before realizing Aegon was missing.

They didn’t want Aemma as queen because Aegon would’ve gladly handed it all to her.

In fact that had been Aegon’s plan, to leave Aemma to run the realm and just be Aegon.

It would have also been avoided if they had had the marriage annulled, giving Aemond to blindside them by marrying Aemma and establishing a joint monarchy to appease the Greens.

Not that it would have, grandfather wanted power and mother believed she needed power to keep them alive.

Hence why they are doing the impossible to keep Aemma shut inside Maegor’s Holdfast for as long as they can.

“You waited a week to give King Viserys a proper funeral, you could have waited another three to have the Princess of Dragonstone and her babe cremated and crown her heir alongside her husband.” Aemma refused to let her continue speaking, after all, Aemma now outranked her.

The Queen Mother came after the Queen Consort, even Visenya Targaryen learned that the hard way.

“This war would have been avoided with a raven, it didn’t even have to be a raven, it could have been a certain golden dragon and its rider or even one those carrier pigeons the Citadel has been testing for a year now.

And because you didn’t, our only chance to end it is to accept a joint monarchy between Aegon and I.”

The last to have a joint monarchy were Aegon and his sisters, even Jaehaerys and Alysanne didn’t have one as he was not expected to marry his own sister.

Aemond and Aemma had said they would have a joint rule but had yet to hash out all the details.

“But that can wait until Prince Aenys is born and King Aegon fully recovered, for now all you need to do is instate me, Aemma Targaryen, as queen consort and use that to call for a temporary cease fire for the next nine moons.

With autumn ending soon, no one will want to risk war and bend the knee knowing their objective has been achieved when I am crowned Aemma the First besides my husband.”

Somehow, Aemma’s speech has them fold and the deposed Queen Aemma Targaryen leaves that council session as Aemma Targaryen, Queen Consort.

“Next thing you know she will be asking for her dragons.” The queen complained to her confidant and lover as they walked home that night.

They had gone to sup with Helaena and her goodfamily and stayed there until the Hour of the Ghosts.

She hadn’t wanted to leave and almost accepted her daughter’s invitation to stay the night, but something told Alicent her father needed her home.

The queen felt like a girl again, like when she was three and ten and refusing a sleepover with Rhaenyra because someone had to make sure Gwayne hadn’t left a candle unattended again.

Something feels wrong though, like it did that night when Gwayne’s bedding caught on fire.

Alicent hastens her pace as Alys takes the long and sharp hair pin from her bun and hid it in her sleeve even when the porter and guards in the tower act as if nothing is amiss.

Something is wrong.

Something has happened to her father.

The queen screams in horror when she sees her father’s headless body slumped over his desk.

Ellyn’s toy dragon sits where his head should be.

Someone knows she killed Aegon’s daughter.

“Have the head prepared for travel, Prince Daemon won’t appreciate it if Ser Otto’s head rots before it gets there.” Mysaria orders as she pays Blood and Cheese for their services.

Daemon did not give a shit about who framed him for the bastard girl’s murder, in fact he bragged about it to strike fear in his enemies.

But Mysaria did.

Ser Otto had his spies taint her foods with abortifacients to kill her along with her sweet baby boy in that ship.

Ser Otto had confessed to killing Daemon’s nieces and nephews before having his grey rat murder Aemma Arryn to take the crown for his darling little girl.

Ser Otto planned to do the same with the new little queen.

Mysaria would have let him destroy the dragons if he had kept his end of the deal they made the morning she kidnapped Aegon the Elder.

But the Snake of the Hightower had not.

The child fighting pits continued to run and worse, brothels selling children and unwilling adults had been ignored while properly regulated brothels like hers were being burnt down since King Aegon was crowned after they discovered her spies in their households.

She had been clear.

If he did not deliver, she would collect her dues and give her services to those who can.

“Oh, and tell the Seasnake, the White Worm accepts his offer.”

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 32

Cw: mentions of voyeurism, infidelity and past murders

Gif by @fxtxdsxuls

Taglist @mercedesdecorazon @darylandbethfanforever9 @aemondx @ewanmitchellcrumbs @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy

They negotiate a truce.

She will give him a chance if he begins giving her what she is owed as his wife.

Her affair with Aemond would continue with conditions.

Conditions that she agrees to because to lose Aemond would kill her desire to live.

Aemma is aware that she could survive a breakup like that, but Aegon knows she was not lying about those thoughts that creep into her mind telling her to jump.

But Aegon will need more than one heir because Targaryen babies are as fragile as porcelain dolls ---and occasionally born without hearts, covered in dragon scales and filled with maggots.

“Fine, I suppose Aenys will need a sister to marry or we might need a spare in case he dies, but I will watch as he seeds you.” Aegon threw up his hands as he caved.

Aemond will hate it.

But he negotiated with Aegon about the terms of their affair without any input from her whatsoever the first time around. The queen supposed this was karma reminding Aemond she never forgets a bitch.

Besides, Aemma will make Aegon hate it, hold eye contact as Aemond ruins her pussy in front of him and cry out his brother’s name in a way she will never say Aegon’s.

It’s the perfect plan.

“Why?” she asks playing dumb. Aegon likely wants to stake his ownership of her that way or at least make it awkward enough to make them break things off themselves.

Oh, Aemma is going to make him wish he had never married her.

“I enjoy watching people fuck.” He said with a shrug. “Besides, I’m curious as to how my One-Eyed baby brother gets you to scream until you’re hoarse. Once I am completely recovered, I may deign to share you with him, you have not known fucking until you have had both ----"

“Orwyle said a year, by then I suppose I will be sufficiently recovered from the birth. You do not need to paint me a picture.” Aemma is embarrassed by how freely he speaks of this, of how his eyes dilate as he paints a vivid image of her being fucked by both brothers.

“Ah, yes, but what a picture it would be. A reversal of Aegon the Conqueror with me being the Visenya and Aemond being the Rhaenys.

Next son we have will be named Maegor, to complete the portrait, obviously.”

Her plans of torturing him until he annuls their marriage have been dashed to pieces now that because this fucking shithead gets aroused just by speaking of it!

Gods, she can never win against this man!

“If you want us to perform for you, you will have to give me what I am owed as your wife.” If she must lower herself for this and drag Aemond with her, it will cost him.

For Aegon’s sake, Alicent graciously moves out of the rooms she has had since she was made queen.

He wants to fix things with the conniving little whore who smirks as she directs her servants into adjusting the chambers to her tastes.

The green fabrics and images of the faith are the first thing to go.

Alicent chooses to move into the Tower of the Hand with her Father than accept lesser chambers here.

Aemond has moved into Rhaenyra’s old chambers as Prince Regent and interim Prince of Dragonstone, Helaena and her husband kept their modest chambers by the royal nursery and Daeron has moved into Aemond’s old rooms as they are perfect for a young and unattached prince.

Alicent refuses to let them see this as an insult to her.

“She is his queen; it is only appropriate for her to reside in the queen’s rooms.” She says when Criston pretends to be offended on her behalf.

Criston is to guard the king and queen because he is also Aegon’s Hand.

This Aegon had said when he threatened to have him punished for breaking his vows with the king’s wife when he still lived.

“Taking Rhaenyra’s maidenhead I can forgive, she was unwed and stupid, you, had Aemond in crippling pain from the loss of his eye and your husband alive in the next room,” Aegon had said eating an apple as he ruled from his bed. “Kingmaker, I should call you mother fucker.”

Aemma had managed to get her grandfather out of the Black Cells, her mother’s ladies sent home and now Baela Targaryen was back in her household.

Jena Wylde was her Mistress of the Robes, Samantha Tarly and Baela as ladies-in-waiting. Elinor Stokeworth and Elinor Swann were made her cupbearers, and Septa Teora was returned her.

Alicent does not wish to know what sort of price Aemma paid to get all this.

“I know, but it is that sort of thing you are not into.” Alys quips as they begin moving in her things into the mistress’ chambers in the Tower of the Hand. “Well, you aren’t, but our dear Lord Commander has had the occasional fantasy about.” The witch adds with a wink and Criston answered with an annoyed scoff.

“Keep out of my mind, witch. Do not forget many would like nothing more than to be rid of you.” He threatened, but by then Alicent was no longer paying attention.

She lived here as a young girl, after mother died and she began to run father’s household.

When Lyonel Strong lived here it was occupied by the eldest of his daughters as he had never remarried after his second wife’s death.

Then after the rooms had stayed empty.

Until now, that is.

“I see your son has tossed you aside as well.” Her father comments with that ‘I told you so’ she has been dreading since Criston returned with Aemma fettered in iron chains.

“Something must be done to curb her influence on them.” She confides in him once Criston leaves and Alys busied herself with the day’s work.

“Yes, a shame we must wait until the babe is born to be rid of Rhaenyra’s whelp.” Her father said, casually hinting at murder as they had supper together. “The first Aemma died birthing the heir for a day, her mother died from childbed fever and your darling stepdaughter bled to death, if our little queen were to perish then, none would be the wiser.

You are not the only one with blood on your hands, my dear. I killed the first Aemma, now allow me to kill the second Aemma.”

He looks at her knowing she killed Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra who was her soulmate and sister and only true friend.

Would her father look at her with pride when he discovers she killed little Ellyn too?

A part of her tells her he will be prouder than he has ever been before.

After all, he just admitted to killing gracious queen Aemma who never did anything to him except exist.

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 23

Cw: unintentional bodyshaming, mentions of symptomatic pregnancy in men, prophecied infant death, bullying, implications of religion persecuting people

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @darylandbethfanforever9 @aemondx @ewanmitchellcrumbs @sweethoneyblossom1

Gif:@elena-gilbert

Being a hostage is surprisingly fun.

Apart from leaving the keep, he is quite free.

He has trained with her Queensguard, read until his eye hurt, eaten good food, had intelligent conversation with her courtiers and, best of all, had her in his bed every night.

Sure, he must be loyal to his brother and he cannot stand her brothers ---the feeling being mutual--- but he was quite content as her prisoner.

“If Teora pinches my cheek again and tells me I look like Daemon, I will tell her she looks like Vaemond.” Aemond complains to Helaena as he sits on his stool like a good boy as she presses his hair with her hot comb.

“Don’t say that, she will be sad and then Daenaera will cry and then I will cry too.” Helaena talked him out of it as of he had been serious.

“It was a joke, Hel. A bad one. It’s just annoying to wear Daemon’s old clothes. These haven’t been in fashion since we were born.” He clarifies and she nods.

“Yes, Teora said he wore that when he came to court Aunt Laena. Goodmother Alarra and Aunt Rhaenys say most men gain a few stones after marriage, Daemon was no different, I suppose.” She said as she continued doing his hair.

He snorts at her words knowing his sweet sister doesn’t understand that she just called Daemon fat.

She didn’t even understand why Aemma, and everybody had found his toast to be in bad taste.

“Daeron ate as much as me when I was with child both times, Daemon shared Rhaenyra’s morning sickness, I suspect you will too.” Helaena chatters away knowing she has a captive audience.

Marriage had made her very happy; her husband did not care she never lost the baby weight last year and went as far as going to Pentos for fresh fruits.

“How do you know that?” he asks as she put the comb down and brushed his hair with her mother of pearl brush.

“She has not complained about bleeding or cramping or bloating. The two of you do the deed as much as Daeron and me, from what’s she said to me in confidence.” His sister answered with a small sad sigh. “A shame he will be like his namesake.”

“What?” he asks, his voice catching in his throat as he is told their first child is going to die.

“Aemma and I talk, like confidants do. She cannot talk about these things with Baela or Rhaena or even her other ladies, save for the two of us most of them are still unmarried and yes, it is a little uncomfortable to talk about what you two do under the sheets because you’re my brother and I still remember when you used to pick your nose when mama wasn’t looking ---.” Helaena explains in her ramble the wrong part of her answer.

“Not that, Hel, what do you mean the babe will die?” he asks in a whisper.

“Oh, I don’t know. I just know that but no details. Like when I told you that you were going to lose an eye, but I didn’t know it was because you would get into a scrap with the twins and the boys.” she said with a shrug. “I need to study an insect to know more, but Dany doesn’t give me much free time these days.

Maybe he will live to father children or not, I just know his life will not be long. I will tell you when I know more of it.”

He had forgotten Helaena’s dragon dreams, they used to come so often when they were little that they feared mother would let the Faith burn her for witchcraft.

Aegon used to bully her for them too.

Anything that made him feel insecure or had father’s attention would do the trick.

It wasn’t Helaena’s fault that they could spend hours talking about dragons and bugs and fixing his model of Old Valyria because Hel knew how the freehold looked like in truth.

Anymore than it was Aemond’s fault that father believed he was destined for a great and untamable dragon.

And now he was king.

And if Aemma lost, her life depended on having his heir.

An heir that needed to live to succeed him.

“Aemma cannot know about this.”

The last time she wore this much black, her father had died.

Her father had been stabbed in the back repeatedly by his lover and Aemma’s former sworn shield and left to rot in a field near Spicetown.

They had gone down to the fair and he had left them under Daemon’s watchful eye while he took care of some business.

Ser Qarl was to leave for reasons Aemma hadn’t comprehended yet and instead of leaving with his dignity he, he drew his dagger and killed her father out of anger.

They had barely started wearing colors again after Aunt Laena, and then they had to return to wearing mourning black again.

Aemma has run out of black dresses and looks at the ones her mother once wore when she was her age.

She had given them all to her as Baela and Rhaena split Laena’s between them.

The hems had to be let out, some had to be torn apart and redone to accommodate Aemma’s height, but in the end all fit perfectly.

Mother hadn’t liked black all that much when she was a girl, preferred light colors like soft golds and reds and pinks.

Aemma picks out the black dress her mother wore at her mother’s funeral.

It was a simple thing, black honeycomb cotton with a black lacing on the sleeves, a silver coin girdle and metal dragons on the neckline.

It had been cool, the first cool of autumn when they burned her and the heir for a day.

Strange how both women died in autumn.

“Ser Otto has come to present the Dowager Queen’s terms, your grace.” The Lord Commander of her Queensguard, Steffon Darklyn, says as they begin court in the Dragonstone Throne Room.

“Bring him in, Lord Commander. Have bread and salt and water brought in for our guests.” She says knowing Daemon is itching to shorten the former Hand of the King by a head.

“As you wish.” He says before ordering his squire to run that errand for them.

Aemond should be here, and he is standing beside Helaena and Daeron amongst the courtiers.

“I come at the behest of Queen Mother, Alicent Hightower, mother of King Aegon, Second of His Name, Lord and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms.

I’ve been directed to deliver these terms to Princess Aemma Velaryon.” The former hand begins, no longer afforded the power and prestige of his former office and reduced to simply an advisor.

It is laughable how quickly his dreams were shattered by Aegon’s hand.

It must be killing him that a common man born of Dornish servants has his job now.

“Ah, but you see, Ser Otto, Princess Aemma Velaryon is no more. I am Queen Aemma Targaryen now, I have been so since the day my mother and sister died because of your and your daughter’s treachery.

Present your queen’s terms.” Aemma felt nervous, a thrill at being able to say what she wanted to say and know there were no longer any consequences for it.

Power gave you a voice and the tools to carry out the impossible.

No wonder the man before him became addicted to it.

“King Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name… in his wisdom and desire for peace, is offering terms:

Acknowledge your husband, Aegon, as king and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne.

In exchange, His Grace will confirm you as queen consort and declare any child of your body his heir.

Prince Jacaerys will be confirmed as the legitimate heir to Driftmark and all the lands and holdings of House Velaryon.

Prince Lucerys will squire for the new Lord Hand; Prince Joffrey will be made page until he is old enough to foster and squire for the king and their present betrothals honored.

Your brothers born to the late Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon will also be given places of high honor at court: Aegon the Younger as the King’s squire, Viserys as his cupbearer.

Finally, the King, in his good grace, will pardon any knight or lord who conspired against his ascent.”

To those who do not know how this places her brothers and stepsisters as hostages at court, these seem perfectly reasonable.

To those who see through this shit they are to be rejected immediately.

“I would rather feed my sons to the dragons than have them carry shields and cups for your drunken, usurper cunt of a king.” Daemon leans on Dark Sister, ready to make a second Vaemond out of the king’s grandfather.

But they are not to break the guest right and even Daemon knows better than to do so.

“We refuse his terms, Ser. You may tell him so.” Aemma speaks calmly and coldly. “I am queen as dictated by King Viserys’ and my lady mother’s will, if it were not enough, my father, the late Ser Laenor was the firstborn son of Prince Aemon’s only heir. Why should I submit to a man with a claim weaker than mine when by right of birth and that of the king’s last will, the Iron Throne belongs to me?”

“Aegon Targaryen sits the Iron Throne.” Ser Otto begins his response, his eyes never betraying the fact that he hates being talked down by a girl old enough to be his grandchild.

“He wears the Conqueror’s crown, wields the Conqueror’s sword, has the Conqueror’s name. He was anointed by the High Septon of the Faith before the eyes of thousands. Every symbol of legitimacy belongs to him.”

“A ruler needs a good head and a true heart. A cock is not essential.” Aemma quotes Queen Alysanne’s famous last words to King Jaehaerys. “My husband only has the third and it is optional, tell me do all those symbols give him a good head and a true heart when he does not possess them?”

“Queen Alicent has not forgotten the love she and your mother held for each other once. No blood need be spilled, so the realm can carry on in peace.

Queen Alicent eagerly awaits your answer, your highness.” Otto finished his piece and reminded her they would never see her reign as legitimate.

“Tell the king these are my terms:

The first that he recognizes me as Queen Regnant by honoring his late father’s will, the second that all those executed by him be given over to the Silent Sisters and returned to their families, and third, the heads or tongues of those who decided the King’s Will would not be honored as it is dictated by every law in the Seven Kingdoms.

Those who choose to live may join the Night’s Watch or the Faith. I hear silent orders are known for their virtue.”

None of these terms will be agreed to. Aegon would have folded without a second thought, but he is only a king in name.

And sure, Criston Cole was an iron fist, but he has not been taught to govern like a lord or a king and in her case, a queen.

War was inevitable, that had been decided the moment Ser Otto chose to whore out his five- and ten-year-old daughter to the king.

“You may leave this moment and arrive at the Red King before the King has his supper and leaves to visit his favorite brothel.”

[lya-dustin]

All is Bliss

Chapter 58

Cw:murder, gaslighting, poison

Taglist:@alexandria-millie @mercedesdecorazon @watercolorskyy @darylandbethfanforever9 @ewanmitchellcrumbs @sweethoneyblossom1 @toms-cherry-trees

Aemma waits in her rooms as the procession comes into the keep and all are arrested the moment they arrive at the great feast hall to celebrate.

The guests are given a chance to change into their feast clothes and leave their weapons behind ---the city riots had them taking weapons to the anointing--- thus making them all the weaker.

The men who will be penning them inside the Great Hall are sworn to her, to her grandfather and Lord Wylde.

Not the council that just turned against Aegon when they saw the end at the gate, but those who have been on her side since she gave up her crown eight months ago.

“Will you kill him?” Aemond asks quietly standing behind her.

They had come here because no one must see him until Aegon is brought to the Great Hall and forced to admit defeat.

Gave them a chance to be together and plan their life a little.

Aemma would have to wait until the High Septon annuls their marriage to wed him and with the incoming winter it will likely be a small affair and then there is the issue that it might be viewed as illegitimate.

But they hadn’t really talked about that mess and instead had fucked like beasts the moment the door shut behind them.

Lucky for her, she had to change into something more appropriate for winning the war through deceit.

Aemma had never worn the armor her mother and grandmother commissioned for her before their deaths and despite having had a baby, it fit like a glove.

Melusina of the Sea, Aemond had called her as he saw in her Velaryon silver armor chased with gold and inlaid with Targaryen rubies.

“I promised your sister I would spare him; with any luck he will live a long life as her guest in Driftmark.” Aemma assured him.

If he rose against her, she would have to kill him. She doesn’t want that, but life loves making her do things she doesn’t want.

“A stupid thing to ask, I know its not in you to kill him. It is what makes you the woman I love.” Aemond took her hand and kissed it as if apologizing for doubting her. Perhaps he had doubted her and doubts her still.

“It’s finally over.” Aemma whispers when Aegon’s litter comes through the gates and comes to the Holdfast.

Aegon asks his new Kingsguard, Ser Alfred Broome, for wine, and the man hands him the wine skin halfway through.

Helaena had ridden with him to make it look less emasculating for him and cared for Aenys as his Godsmother.

It is her screams that have them stopping just at the serpentine steps and having the guards pull back the curtains as King Aegon chokes on his wine.

His face turns purple as he tries to scream and Helaena screams murderer at the knight who gave him the wine.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

Jena.

Jena had killed her husband with the Yi-Tish poison called the Strangler. Most had assumed he choked on the truffle he had just eaten, but the poison had been dissolved into his wine by Jena herself.

Just as it had been with Aegon.

Aegon the Usurper was twenty-two years old when he was murdered on the day of his only child’s anointing.

When Corlys saw the body, he saw the toddler he once bounced on his knee. Kinslayer, Rhaenys' voice hissed in his ears.

The keep is put on lockdown by Borros Baratheon while he thinks he is in control.

“Find the queen, make sure her guards do not let her leave her rooms.” Baratheon takes up the mantle of Hand and Regent the second Aegon’s body is sent to the Silent Sisters and Helaena is taken by her husband and Teora to the Holdfast.

The poor girl had witnessed her brother die and all she could do was rightfully accuse his council of kingslaying. The Dreamer was right, and as much as it pained the Seasnake to call her sanity into question, it had to be done.

He will apologize later, when the war is over and all of them can go home.

Aemma had been spotted by the window and Borros had sired five children therefore he knew the rule of 49 days never changed even if there had been complications.

Aemma is the most obvious suspect, something easy to disprove when they find evidence that Broome was paid by Daemon to kill him. Daemon would take the blame as they had agreed and in exchange he’d get his children, Joanna Westerling as a wife and a chance to die in battle reclaiming the Stepstones.

“You waste your time, my lord.” Aemma comes in armor with Aemond at her heels. Aemond wears chain under his court clothes and his sword at his hip.

Neither make their case any easier.

“Has his murderer been questioned?” the One-Eye asks reminding Baratheon he was the man in charge here.

He had ruled for most of Aegon’s reign, and now he would rule beside his widow.

A second Hand of sorts, Aemma had called it. He will wage battle and do all the things I can’t, and I will be the Queen of the Realm.

“Broome was taken to the Black Cells, Lord Larys has seen fit to be the one to extract the truth from it.” Corlys answered and saw his wife’s kinsman narrow his eyes in suspicion. He suspected something was afoot, only he believed the real culprit was a girl who struggled to kill spiders and the boy who liked stories from the Stepstones.

“Good. The sooner this is taken care of, the sooner this nightmare ends.” Aemma ignores the suspicion in Borros’ eyes. “Thank you for securing the keep, Lord Baratheon, we will take it from here.”

“This is no place for a lady, your grace.” Baratheon tries to regain control as it becomes obvious that he is outnumbered here. “Retire to your rooms with your babe, your safety is paramount.”

“That is what Prince Aemond and Ser Steffon are here for, my lord. Now, if you will excuse us we have a war to end.” Aemma wastes no time and has him taken to his rooms for safekeeping. “Order a guard and ready horses for you and the men, I will take Silverwing and a peace banner to the parley.”

It feels surreal, his brother is dead, his sister has gone mad and yet here he is checking the straps are secured correctly on the saddle as if it were an ordinary afternoon.

“I can give you a lift if you wish it.” Aemma suggested as she climbed on the back of her dragon after summoning her from the roof to the courtyard.

People do not scatter as before; they have grown used to the dragon deciding to hang out on the courtyard or the godswood. Aemond no longer kept his distance either, most dragons do not like other humans save for children or spouses of the rider. Silver never accepted Aegon nor any attempt by Sunfrye to coil with her but took to Aemond as if he were Aemma and changed sex to sire silver eggs onto Vhagar.

Had people paid attention to the habits of their creatures, they would’ve seen their affair clearly written in it.

“Tempting, but no. I will ride my horse and carry your standard, so our dear uncle knows I am on your side come what may.” He shook his head as he helped her into the saddle. It had been so long since he’d done this, felt like a lifetime ago.

Aemond had been hesitant to say goodbye then as he was now.

And just like then he cannot bid her farewell so instead he says, “I love you.”

“You say it as if you’d never see me again, Aemond.” Aemma gave a sad smile and amended her words. “I love you too, now hurry up, the sooner we end the war the sooner you can grieve for your brother.”

Oh grief, something he’s not been good at. Not because it got ugly, mainly because he was not prone to much emotion.

He’s never wept for a dead loved one, not even mother when she was murdered. He paced and felt anger over his lack of emotion at her wake, but Aemond could never grieve like other did.

He feels sad over his brother’s passing, hates that he is dead and knows he will miss him. He just knows he will not cry over him like Helaena does now and knows people will chalk it up to him being heartless.

Aemond is not looking forward to that.

“Godspeed, my queen.” He says and she commands her dragon to fly out of their cage.

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 27

Cw: depression, teen pregnancy

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @watercolorskyy @darylandbethfanforever9 @ewanmitchellcrumbs @sweethoneyblossom1 @aemondx

Gif @nina-zcnik

It is known that while Queen Aemma never came to have more than some fondness for her first husband, her closeness with his younger brother ---and eventual second husband--- gave birth to many sordid rumors.

The greatest one being him seducing her with his brother’s knowing consent after his bout of smallpox left him sterile and siring Prince Aenys in the weeks before the untimely deaths of their father and sister.

The rumor, according to Septon Eustace ---who was their confessor--- was slander spread by gossips who envied the young queen's position in court especially after her pregnancy saved her and the Blacks from the executioner’s block.

Prince Aenys had been conceived in Aegon the Usurper’s monthly couplings with his wife ---Grand Maester Orwyle, Mushroom and Eustace coincide in this--- as demanded by their marriage contract and aided by fertility tonics the princess bought at the markets from Summer Island apothecaries.

That then Prince Aemond was often found in her company ---going over the rulings of the realm and new books says Orwyle and Eustace, conspiring to kill Aegon and wed once and for all says Mushroom--- and in her rooms was merely coincidence.

The fool, Mushroom, while fond of the most salacious stories of his time in court, was never found to speak any ill of the young queen.

Princess Aemma had been a sweet and dutiful child with a head full of dreams and as docile as her dragon until you provoked her, but never dared to flirt with impropriety for fear of being branded a whore like her mother. The fool reminds his readers the young queen grew up hearing all sorts of things about her mother and the paternity of her brothers no matter what her family did to shield her from it.

On the rumors of the affair between the princess and her half-uncle, he claims the young queen had been wooed by her second husband even before the late King Viserys tried to call for an annulment before his murder.

He claims the prince gave her a sapphire cut to resemble his false eye before they departed Kingslanding and grew flustered whenever her friends and Septa asked about it.

The One-Eye knew the great prize she was and wasted no effort to make her love him and see him as the Jaehaerys to her Alysanne, and he succeeded, the fool had said.

Septon Eustace writes that then Prince Regent had confessed to improper feelings for his brother’s wife stemming from the neglect she suffered at the hands of her lord husband, but other than that there is no record of either confessing to an affair.

The princess had on some occasion confessed to similar feelings and having, in a moment of anger with her first husband, told Prince Aegon she wished his brother had been the one wed to her on more than one occasion.

There were rumors and gossip even in the first six moons of her ill-fated marriage to Aegon the Usurper, however.

The source of those rumors seemed to have been started by the Master of Laws’ fourth wife, Lady Jena Wylde.

Lady Jena Wylde was once heard by Septon Eustace saying such slander and was put in her place by the princess and from then on came to defend her from all who would insult her.

Why did that happen? No one seems to care enough to know.

“After Princess Aemma striped her, Lady Wylde became her most steadfast supporter. Perhaps the lady wished to test her mettle and prepare her for the harshness of court.” The Septon had written in his memoirs.

But even then, this supposed affair and cuckolding that is the subject of scandalous novels and mummeries was as fabricated as Prince Aemond calling his late sister ‘the old whore’.

---Archmaester Gyldayn, Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros

He kissed her wrists even though the manacles have been off for a while now.

Once that gesture would have melted her.

Nothing stirs her anymore.

Not even the fear of being discovered by her new handmaids does anything to her.

She had become the voiceless doll to be paraded about as a cautioning tale.

Aemma had kneeled before Alicent, mute and demure to the point the court itself was silent as well when the Queen forgave her of her crimes and announced to all that the child in her womb would be what heals the rifts between them.

She wasn’t given her rights as queen, though.

Alicent would rather die than lose her power, this war showed as much.

Aemma was given a good room in Maegor’s Holdfast, but not the Queen’s rooms that connected to Aegon’s. She was given servants that were well-trained, but reported to her goodmother, all sharp objects were taken away, the mirrors only brought in when needed and only given a week to retreat from society.

“I can stay with you tonight; I know you don’t like sleeping alone.” Aemond said softly as he helped her bathe. Treats her with great care, as if she might shatter if he touches her too firmly.

They are in her bath, him doing everything he could to remind her she has someone to live for and reminding her that he meant it when he said he loved her.

Aemond has been made regent, wears the crown better than Aegon and if it had not happened at cost of nearly a thousand people, she would given him a sign that she found his words amusing.

Orwyle has seen to her, said her humors has become even more unbalanced and yet shot down any talk of leeching the black bile in her blood.

Hot baths, a special diet that limited animal meats and exercise were ordered to balance her humors and treat her melancholia.

This was added to all the new care given to her to ensure she has a healthy child.

As healthy as a child can be born to a family famous for its inbreeding, mind you.

All nobles practice it, even Otto Hightower himself married his first cousin on his mother’s side.

Only House Targaryen seems to get the nasty looks over it because they don’t draw the line at closely related cousins and uncles or aunts.

“Once he is dead, all this will be over.” Aemond promised her as if it would make it all better.

All she has done these days is cry. She would like to stop crying and be herself again, but the thing is, she doesn’t know how.

Because every moment reminds her that over three thousand people have died because of her.

And many more will.

News of her and her court being paraded about in chains has fueled the bold instead of making them bend their knees in submission.

Daemon refuses to stand down, as does the North and some of the minor lords.

House Blackwood and Bracken had put aside their differences, if the rumors were to be believed. Dalton Greyjoy said he’d kill Aegon himself and take the Silver Queen as his rock wife as he drank his victory at Faircastle. Alan Tarly in the Reach had begun amassing hedge knights and sellswords in her name. House Frey had begun to charge all known Green Lords double for crossing their bridge citing the smallfolk of the crownlands migrating to the Riverlands en mass.

Too many people willing to die and kill for her.

There is only one way to end this.

Aemma must kill Aegon and end it once and for all.