#and how aemond felt about the possibility of marrying helaena | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lxdyred · 4 months ago

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By order of the King

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader, Helaena Targaryen x Niece!Reader (Possibly in the future), Aegon Targaryen x Niece!Reader (Possibly in the future)

WC: 2.4k

Summary: Amidst political turmoil and family feuds, the only and eldest Velaryon daughter, struggles through a tumultuous marriage arranged for strategic gain that quickly escalates into betrayal and tragedy. As she grapples with grief and tensions mount, she faces heartache and sorrow, she grapples with her future as a looming conflict threatens to engulf her in a web of deceit and fear.

Warnings: Mature themes, sexual content (mentioned and lightly described), power dynamics, toxic relationship, violence and death, incestuous overtones, emotional turmoil, psychological themes, character deaths, ambiguous morality.

If you wish to be tagged let me know :)

Not only was war about to break out, ready to blow everything up — including the Targaryen dynasty. Her damn marriage of convenience was also about to explode.

It was King Viserys, her grandfather, who proposed the marriage between his eldest granddaughter and his second son, Aemond Targaryen. The idea was not well-received by any of the black team's supporters, especially Rhaenyra Targaryen, but having to ensure that her son Luke was the heir to Driftmark, she had to give in and betroth her firstborn and only daughter, her dear baby girl.

Not everything was disadvantageous, since having her younger half-brother married to her daughter would bind and commit the greens to seeing her as the future queen.

Or so they all briefly thought, until the King's death.

"The rift in our family will heal, and we will be more united." This was what Viserys the Peaceful said, with difficulty, as he received Rhaenyra and Daemon, and all their progeny, at court for the first time in six years.

The wedding was held that same afternoon, privately. Only the closest to the king attended the ceremony. His children, his wife, his grandchildren, his nieces, the Hand, and Princess Rhaenys. Shortly after, he succumbed to pain, having to be taken to his quarters where he drank milk of the poppy to be able to sleep.

The Hightowers thought this would benefit their discussion about Driftmark's inheritance the next day. Without the king present, they could declare Vaemond Velaryon as heir to his brother, the Sea Snake, who was still hovering between life and death. And, in a way, they could more freely insinuate the illegitimacy of Rhaenyra's elder children. Killing two birds with one stone.

"Now you are a recognized Targaryen, despite your illegitimate descent, wife." These were the first venomous words Aemond addressed to his now wife for the first time in years. "I will make sure you do not follow your mother's path, that the children you carry in your womb are mine, and no one else's." He murmured, while caressing his wife's dark hair, a certain warmth and delicacy in the act.

"I would never think of it, my prince." She whispered, carefully watching his movements as he circled her.

As if she were his prey.

"Do you know what comes next? What is expected of you on our wedding night?" He asked, tilting his head, once he stood in front of her.

"To consummate our union, to give you an heir."

"Hm." He hummed. "I will not be harsh with you, I will be gentle. Until you ask me not to be."

There was no love between them, not even the slightest hint of the friendship that once existed in their childhood. She would be lying if she said he did not keep his word. He was not rough or harsh with her, but considerate and gentle. The union brought something she did not expect, pleasure.

She felt a lot of pleasure; he gave her pleasure. She supposed it was to keep her satisfied, so she wouldn't seek comfort in another man's arms, thus avoiding the possibility and shame of bastards.

Bastards of a bastard, it sounded ironic.

Once he finished inside her, after making her climax three times, he caressed her face, looking attentively at how her face reflected pleasure and satisfaction. Then he got off her, dressed, and left her alone in her room, without a word.

A few days later, her mother, her brothers, Daemon, and her stepsisters had to return to Dragonstone, leaving her in that place infested with snakes and traitors — without knowing what was to come.

Her grandfather died that very night, and the next day, not even a full day later, they crowned Aegon as king in the Dragonpit, in front of the entire people. Placing the conqueror's crown on his head, wielding his sword to the cheers of the people.

She could only bite her tongue and dig her nails into her skin until she bled, while averting her gaze. Not recognizing her uncle, the usurper, as king.

That night, when her husband visited her chambers to have sex with her again, as expected of him, as had been the case every night since they married, it was she who took control. It was she who set the pace and used him, leaving behind the gentleness he had previously offered her. It was she who began to be harsh.

Their encounters became rough and hard, with no room for frills or romance. After all, that was the only way she had to vent.

They did it, finished, and each went their separate ways.

In less than a month she was already pregnant.

"Blessed be the gods for this good news." Was what Alicent Hightower said upon receiving the news, while taking the hands of her young daughter-in-law. "Viserys would be delighted with this news. Finally, the Seven smile upon us."

"Do you think? I think they mock us." She whispered, tears in her eyes.

She wanted to go home, to find comfort in her mother's arms, who should be the queen of the Seven Kingdoms and sitting on the Iron Throne.

From the day they received the news, Aemond stopped visiting her at night, and she spent hours staring at her bed canopy, caressing her still nonexistent baby bump. The life growing inside her was the only thing she had in that cold place.

How she longed to talk to her mother freely, but of course, writing to her and sending a raven at that time, without supervision, without practically the entire king's small council approving it, could be considered treason. And to think of proposing to visit her, by the Seven Gods.

What a fucking mess.

Days went by, her loneliness grew, her breasts became more sensitive, her aversion to certain smells became more noticeable. Still, the only pleasant company she had and found some comfort in was Helaena and her children.

Beings of light, innocent and joyful.

"How are things with my brother?" Helaena asked while observing the cages in which she kept some insects.

"He usually asks about how I am feeling, how the pregnancy is going — but other than that, we do not... interact. We practically live separate lives."

"Does he not discuss his duties with you?"

"The bare minimum. I only know that today he is leaving for Storm's End, to speak with Borros Baratheon."

"Oh." Helaena said, looking at her with an expression she couldn't decipher.

"What is it?"

"It is just that I feel a storm is coming. I do not know, it is strange."

"But the skies are clear, Hel?"

And the storm came, just as Helaena had said.

The next morning she woke up later than usual, none of the maids who usually attended to her came to wake her, which made her wonder why no one had disturbed her until then. She tried to dismiss the thought, leaning towards the belief that they were simply letting her rest due to the lack of energy she felt because of the pregnancy.

When she left her room to meet Helaena and have breakfast with her, she encountered one of the Kingsguard, Ser Arryk Cargyll, who had been patiently waiting for her, for who knows how long.

"Did Helaena send you for me?" The young princess asked doubtfully, as it was usually not Ser Arryk who escorted her anywhere.

"No, princess." Replied the sworn knight softly. "The queen mother sends me; she is waiting for you to meet her and Prince Aemond in her apartments." He said, pointing out the path they were to take, a fleeting, small, empathetic smile adorning his face as if he were trying to hide something.

"Has something happened, Ser Arryk?" She asked as they walked towards Alicent Hightower's apartments. Uncertainty gripped her, for each time they encountered someone from the court, or a servant or guard, they averted their gaze from the young woman, as if not wanting to reveal something. "Have I been accused of treason or something?" The young woman murmured with a mix of doubt and jest, stopping and looking at the Cargyll twin.

"Not at all, princess." The man replied, shaking his head. "The reason for the audience will be revealed when we arrive, I promise."

"Has someone died, by any chance?" The young woman asked, the question hanging in the air.

Ser Arryk did not respond, simply escorting her to the queen mother's chambers. Where, indeed, she discovered that someone had died.

Her baby brother, Luke. At the hands of her own husband, ironically.

With one hand over her mouth and the other over her stomach, she shook her head, under the watchful eyes of Aemond, Alicent, Otto, Aegon, and Ser Criston. She leaned against the brick wall of the queen's chambers, her gaze passing over each of the people present, her tears welling up in her eyes, and the words unable to pass her throat, where she felt a tight knot.

Alicent tried to approach her, raising a hand to touch her shoulder in consolation. "Oh, sweet girl, this was—" she tried to speak, as she finished approaching her.

The young woman, with a slap, pushed her hand away and took a few steps back to distance herself. Now, with tears streaming down her cheeks, blurring her vision, she clumsily opened the door and briskly set off towards anywhere far from any of them.

Without a fixed direction, she turned every corner she encountered until an overwhelming urge to vomit flooded her, and she ended up clutching a large decorative urn, where she emptied her stomach. Amidst the vomiting and retching, she felt a hand rubbing her back in support.

“No, no—” she tried to speak as she pulled away from the person, slightly dragging herself on the ground, wiping her lips with the sleeve of her dress. “No, please,” she whispered through tears, her eyes closed.

“I do not like feeling sick either.”

“What— Jaehaerys…” she whispered the boy’s name, who brought his little hand to her face and wiped away a tear.

“Does your tummy hurt, Auntie?” asked the little boy, who was kneeling beside her, his head tilted and looking at her with concern. Innocence was all that reflected in the eyes of the usurper's progeny.

“A little, yes. Something did not sit well with me, little one.” The young woman sniffed and tried to smile at the boy as best she could.

“Jaehaerys.” Helaena called to her young son, and seeing how he tried to comfort the princess, she approached them, kneeling in front of the duo. “Why don’t you go play with your sister, hm? I shall stay and take care of her, yes?”

The silver-haired boy looked at his mother and then at his aunt, who was still giving him a small smile, even though her lower lip was trembling. He nodded and looked at the small wooden dragon he had in one of his hands before placing it in the young princess’s hand.

“You can keep it until you feel better.”

“Thank you, little prince.”

“Maybe playing with it will help you.” He murmured before standing up and running towards one of the servants who took care of Helaena’s children.

The usurper’s wife, whom she had adored since childhood, helped her up from the ground, and with an arm around her, while she cried silently, accompanied her to her room, where she broke into almost agonising, pain-filled sobs. Helaena sat at the foot of the young woman’s bed while she cried with her head in her lap, broken with grief.

For hours, the one considered the new queen, with a pure heart and only good intentions, stayed in the same position, doing everything in her power to calm and console her dear one, who was her sister-in-law, niece, and friend, all in one person. She stroked her long hair while trying to offer comforting words; the young Velaryon, slightly younger than her, could only cling to her waist with one arm, while in the other hand she held the wooden dragon that little Jaehaerys had given her. She kept her face hidden in Helaena’s lap, crying and crying, until finally, she fell asleep from crying and sobbing so much.

“Leave. Have you not made her suffer enough?” she thought she heard Helaena say sharply, something that very rarely happened, in the distance of her dream.

She knew that the one who was now definitely her only trusted person in the place had just thrown out her husband, the murderer of her younger brother.

Aemond did not manage to articulate a word to excuse himself when he showed up, merely mumbling under his breath, his gaze fixed on his beautiful wife, clinging to the body of his sister.

Helaena gave him a fierce, defiant look, insisting without repeating her words that he leave, which he eventually did. The slam of the door behind him woke the princess, who turned her head and stared at the door.

“Do not worry, he is gone now,” murmured Helaena, looking at her with sadness and empathy, still stroking her hair.

“I do not know what I am going to do,” whispered the young Velaryon, her voice hoarse from crying so much, as she lowered her hand to her belly, where her baby was growing.

That creature, who was also the progeny of a Kinslayer, the prince with one eye. The person she could most despise at that precise moment.

The mere thought of being responsible for giving him a child, something that was already happening, made her blood boil and filled her with deep disgust for the situation.

And indirectly, a certain rejection, towards her unborn child.

She was condemned to spend the rest of her days with him, bound to him, because of her condition. Because of the son or daughter who had not yet been born, but soon would be.

She was in that position by the decision of Viserys, her late and naïve grandfather. “By order of the king…” she murmured sarcastically, as she felt the tears well up in her eyes again.

By order of the late king, she was in that situation, but that would not stop her from making things difficult for Aemond.

A shadow began to loom over her, just as the war that was about to be declared.

Although, to be honest, they were all screwed.

So royally fucked.

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targaryen-dynasty · 1 year ago

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alrightie bestie, I find the slutty sleepover a lovely idea!

with this being said, I'd love if possible the gif number eleven with aemond and if possible as kinks: breeding kink and size kink!

(I'd love canon era but I am fine with whatever you come up with)

alrightie I am off and have a spooky time!

KINKTOBER SLEEPOVER.

No. 2 -> GIF.

Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; p in v, breeding kink, breeding, pregnancy kink, size kink, size difference, mentions of reader's appearance

WORDS: 1.5 K

NOTES: My beloved angsty, thank you so, so much for this request! That gif is my favorite. Hope you like this!

Moments like these always made you terribly aware of how much taller, and stronger, your husband was than you, whereas that realization made you incredibly aroused. Where Aemond had you captured between his tall frame and the stone wall before, forcing you to meet his gaze by craning your neck up to look at him, you now were pinned between him and your marital bed.

But Aemond had not always been like that. There was a time where he was hesitant to take you whenever he desired, whenever he needed you.

In the early stages of your marriage, it almost seemed as if the young prince was intimidated by you, afraid to touch you, but perhaps he just had been incredibly embarrassed by his lack of hands-on experience with the act of bedding his partner.

He hadn’t told you about the bad experience he had when he turned three-and-ten, his older brother did to make fun of him, and your heart ached for the poor man you had married when you had heard the story.

So, you made it your duty to show him the true sensuality of fucking, and, surprisingly, it didn’t take too long for him to relax, his confidence growing rather quickly.

But something at supper with his family must have aroused him to the point of no return, and you partly blamed it on the slowly growing swell of his older sister’s middle.

And boy, never before had he given into his desires so easily. While he had taken you like a man starved a hundred of times before, the man that thrusted into you now came closer to a wildling that lived beyond the wall, than the dutiful second son of King Viserys Targaryen.

Even before the door to your chambers was closed completely, Aemond‘s lips were on yours, claiming them while he herded you against the wall. His nimble fingers clawed at your gown, and, once it fell to the ground, your smallclothes, a tad too eagerly undoing the laces of your bodice and everything that lay beneath.

You had to physically stop him from easing into you right then and there, and even when you were allowed to climb onto the bed, Aemond was very adamant to mound you as fast as possible.

‘On your hands and knees,’ he had ordered, and when you weren’t quick enough to follow his command, he had used his hand to nudge you into the position he desired. Despite the urgency he had held in him, he was gentle, but there just was more determination in him than usual.

You had done as he told you to, presenting him your slick womanhood while he stripped himself of his breeches and braises, not caring much if the tunic hung still from his shoulder. He had positioned himself behind you, the tip of his cock dragging up and down your slick folds, until it eventually breached your core with a sigh of relief leaving his parted lips.

‘Tonight is the night I shall put a babe in you,’ he had panted, his voice hoarse despite not really doing anything. The thought of getting pregnant had so often crossed your mind, especially when you had heard the news of Rhaenyra being pregnant with hers and Daemon’s first child, and then the second followed. And when Helaena announced her pregnancy, the longing became more and more apparent.

And it seemed your husband felt exactly the same.

The topic had felt too delicate for you to approach it for the longest of time, hence your lack of conversation regarding it, but the threads of your husband’s restraint had obviously snapped, and you knew it was time to give him an heir.

When the ministrations of Aemond’s hips became too harsh, too rough, your small frame toppled forwards, landing stomach first on the bed. But his thrusts didn’t stop at that, and the dragon behind you merely moved to straddle your thighs, until eventually the weight of his body collapsed on you and hugged you like a mantle, pinning you down beneath him.

“Gods,” you moaned, shushed by Aemond’s lips on your temple. “I can not wait to see your belly swell with my child,” he rasped into your ear to which you just whimpered. “I want everyone at court to know. I want them to look at you and know who is fucking you every night, to whom you belong.”

Your hands clawed the linen beneath your sweaty frame, and Aemond was quick to bring both of his own to put them over yours, his hand big enough to cover them whole. He interlocked his fingers with yours, grasping them mayhaps even a bit too tightly.

“Do you like that?” he asked, keeping his lips against your skin, and you could hear his smug grin from miles away, you didn’t even have to look at him.

The warmth of his body, his weight and scent clouded your every being, and even though his thrusts weren’t as fast as before anymore, they still were determined and harsh enough to render you speechless, your mind and body completely claimed by him.

You were not exactly frail or petite, but he was so much bigger than you that it didn’t even matter. You felt safe and blessed in his hold, fucked like a wildling, but loved with such intensity you felt like the most desired lady in the realm.

“Y-Yes,” you whimpered beneath him, releasing one gasp after the other when his cock repeatedly brushed the spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. “I-I want… need you, husband,” you moaned, heat building inside of your belly. As you took in a deep breath, you turned your head slightly to chase his lips for a kiss, which he eagerly granted you.

Your lips only parted to release breathy groans and whimpers, but your faces stayed close together. “Want a babe so, so much, husband,” you whimpered against his lips, “you will give me one, yes?”

At your words, you could feel his body tense with desire, his cock twitching at the thought putting a child in you. “Yes,” he panted, “as many children as you wish. Sons and daughters both, I swear.”

One of his hands released yours to snake beneath your body, aiming for your sensitive pearl. Though the linen beneath had granted you at least a bit of friction, it wasn’t enough to bring you to your peak. His thumb circled over the little bud, coated with your arousal, and the thread in your belly was close to snapping.

“Let me give you an heir. Put a babe in me, husband.”

It appeared that your words granted him a new-found vigor that had you gasping, the pace of his hips increasing. “My seed, my heart, ‘tis all yours,'' he groaned, “you want it, wife? You want my seed?”

You could only whine at the question, and started to roll your hips against his hand and hips, creating some extra friction that not only fed your own pleasure, but his, too. You came with a cry of his name, and if you wouldn’t be lying on your stomach already, you surely would have toppled over at the force of your peak.

As you clenched around him like a vice, with your small frame trembling beneath his, Aemond released a strangled moan, his own peak being milked out of him by your convulsing walls.

Both your bodies moved on their own accords, rutting and rocking in rhythm to make sure that your act bore fruit. Only when Aemond felt as if there was not one drop of his seed left inside of him, he stopped his ministrations, the hand that had circled your pearl coming up to seize your hips, stilling them.

He pressed his lips to the side of your face, his heavy, erratic breathing fanning over your flushed and sweaty skin. In that moment, you felt whole. His weight pinned you down, keeping you grounded, and the softness of his gestures comforted your tumbled mind. “Are you certain it worked?” you whispered, the matter suddenly seeming far too delicate again.

Aemond braced himself on his hands, but was careful to stay nestled inside of you, despite his cock slowly becoming flaccid. “Only time will tell, sweet wife,” he replied, “but that does not have to stop us from trying a few more times… just to make sure.” There was a teasing edge in his voice, and when his arms wrapped around your body to take you with him as he sat back on his haunches, you knew that a long night lay ahead of you – but you didn’t mind at all.

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yanderes-galore · 4 months ago

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Could you do prompts by starbabytae 14, 19, and 21 for Aemond Targaryen?

Aemond has gone FERAL in Season 2... so I'm ready. S2 E4 has definitely given me ideas. End is a bit awkward as I was unsure how exactly to fit it with the prompts.

‼️POTENTIAL SPOILERS FOR HOTD SEASON 2 - ALTERNATE TAKE ON THE EVENTS OF S2 E4‼️

Prompts Here

Yandere! Aemond Targaryen Prompts 14, 19, 21

“I just want you all to myself. Is that such a crime?”

“That’s where you belong. Worshipping me on your hands and knees.”

“Maybe if I branded you, other people would finally get that you’re mine.”

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Swearing, Stalking, Mature themes, Typical ASOIAF themes, Potential Targcest (You replace Helaena), Manipulation, Sadism, Threats, Possessive behavior/Jealousy, Murder, Blood mention, Forced/Dubious relationship.

Aemond had gotten used to the fact he'd be overlooked. He wasn't king due to being born after his brother Aegon. He tried to settle with simply being a warrior for his king on top of Vhagar.

But he still hated it all the same.

Aegon, the whiny brat of a king and brother, always got what he wanted because he was older. As king he had all the say. Meanwhile Aemond was left envious and irritated at how incompetent his brother was as king.

Aemond studied like the good prince he is, he's even better in battle. He's a better tactician and doesn't sleep around like his whore of a brother. He doesn't understand. Why must Aegon be king simply because he's older.

What makes it worse? Aegon also got his first and only love.

You were betrothed and married to Aegon. Aemond had loved you since you both were kids, yet the younger prince was forced to watch as you married his brother. Not only that... but he had to witness the babes you bore for him.

The thought still makes Aemond seethe. He's tired of allowing Aegon, an entitled brat, get what he's always wanted. Aemond always thought he'd make the better king... he's always followed his duties...

He wishes you and him were betrothed instead of Aegon.

While you may not belong to him, Aemond still yearns for you. For years he's loved you. Even when you were married to Aegon he still fantasizes about how it would feel to have you as his.

Aemond always watched you from afar, swearing himself as your protector. On top of Vhagar he felt he was the one making decisions for this war. He's the one making plans while Aegon flirts with other women.

Aemond can tell you aren't happy with Aegon... Aemond could treat you so much better.

Aemond wasn't expecting the opportunity to act on his desires ever. At first he was just going to take Criston Cole to take down Rook's Rest along with Rhaenys and Meleys. Vhagar has been so eager for a fight.

Then he saw Aegon swoop in on Sunfyre... making him pause.

He should be ashamed... but the plan was too perfect.

It was too easy to swoop in on Vhagar when Sunfyre and Meleys were busy. Aemond just had to say one word and the whole situation would look like a freak accident. The thought of finally taking what he deserved makes him grin.

"Dracarys!"

The command is short, simple, but executed with a plume of fire from Vhagar as both smaller dragons are struck down.

Aemond took sadistic delight in taking out both riders. The fire from Vhagar was enough to make Aegon and Sunfyre crash down. However, it took some stealth tactics to bite the neck of Meleys to make the red queen fall with her rider.

By the end of the fighting, Aemond found himself standing in front of his burned brother on the ground. His brother barely moved, yet his breathing was faint. Aemond barely hesitated when he picked up his brother's dagger and hovered it over his burned brother's chest.

"I will be the one to make her happy, brother." Aemond whispers, not caring if Aegon even heard or not. "I will be king, I will win this war, and I'll do it much better than you did."

It's then Aemond does the finishing blow, tucking the dagger away before leaving. The sight of the blood trickling from his brother's chest indifferent to him. Criston Cole enters the foliage to see Aemond and the corpse of the king. The knight goes to say something, yet Aemond's remaining eye glares at him.

"It was a freak accident, that's all it was." Aemond hums, walking past the knight. "Say otherwise and I'll have you gutted by my sword."

The loss of Aegon was a much bigger loss to The Greens. In comparison, The Blacks only really lost one dragon and dragonrider. The Greens...? They lost their king.

Which leads to them placing Aemond in power in an attempt to regain control.

The death of your husband makes you... conflicted. You didn't really love him... yet you feared the vulnerability that came from having the king slain. You believed it was genuinely an accident caused by Aegon's rash decision to prove himself.

Completely unaware of the culprit hovering around you, coddling you and cheering you up like he didn't kill his brother.

With the death of Aegon, Aemond began courting you. You're a widow queen... and he's the new king. Naturally... you two end up being betrothed to keep up support for The Greens. The marriage is then scheduled to happen within the week.

Such an announcement brings rumors from both sides and supporters. The whole thing seems too convenient. Soon there were rumors of Aemond being a kinslayer, killing his brother just to take his wife.

Aemond could care less for such problematic rabble.

All he really cared about was making you his, let them gossip.

Aemond couldn't help the playful chuckle that poured out of his lips when he saw you pacing about your chambers. You looked so vulnerable without Aegon around anymore. Now you are his queen... one who should listen to him and love only him unconditionally.

Aegon never deserved you, at least Aemond promises to only pay attention to you.

"Here you are, love." Aemond greets, cupping your cheek. "Gods how I love you... I've always loved you...

Aemond leans closer to brush his lips over yours, you leaning into his touch obediently.

"I'm so happy to call you mine... It makes everything I've done worth it...." Aemond hums, kissing your lips. He craves your taste, your touch, always has since you young.

Now you're finally his to claim....

"I always hated the fact Aegon got to have you..." Aemond whispers, pressing your face closer to his own in between kisses. "I always wanted it to be me... always should have been me... but now you're mine...."

Your feelings for Aemond are... complicated. You loved him more than Aegon yet couldn't help but distrust him. It felt too... planned.

Yet you were scared to push.

"Aemond... it is scandalous to act this way with a recently widowed queen...." You whisper, yet Aemond only ignores the comment.

"Let the commonfolk think what they wish..." Aemond growls, pulling you flush against him. “I just want you all to myself. Is that such a crime?”

Aemond then chuckles, the idea of the common people and the royals knowing you're his a pleasing thought. To him, this is the ultimate revenge. Even now he despises his brother for taking advantage of the privilege he was given.

At least Aemond plans to use it right.

“Maybe if I branded you, other people would finally get that you’re mine.” Aemond teases, tracing his hands over the exposed skin of your nightgown. "Just as you should be...."

The way you shiver in his touch excites him. Be it from pleasure or fear, he doesn't care. Now that you're his... Why would he ever let go?

"Do you believe the rumors, Aemond?" You ask him in such a sweet voice, his one eye looking at you affectionately. He wonders if you can see the darkness in his violet gaze. "The ones where they call you a kinslayer?"

"Do you believe them?" Aemond asks, affectionately kissing your skin. "Do you really care what the common folk think?"

Aemond waits for you to answer, yet is met with silence. He chuckles at your conflicted gaze, kissing your lips softly. It really didn't change anything if you believed them or not... only two people knew the truth...

and Criston Cole was dangerously close to being hanged, anyways.

"Don't worry so much, love." Aemond whispers, pulling back a bit to view you fully. "You'll hurt yourself... just focus on me..." He kisses you one more time before sitting on the bed, hands on your shoulders. "Could you sit on your knees for me...?"

Obediently you listen to him, making Aemond shiver in anticipation. This was what he always wanted. You listening to him... coddling him... tending to only him.

“That’s where you belong. Worshipping me on your hands and knees.” Aemond praises, petting your head as he lays your head in his lap. "No need to worry about anything, my queen... I'll take care of it all for you."

You merely listen to your new king as he strokes your hair. This is all he's ever dreamed of. Aemond can't hide the dark smirk on his face as he gives you the affection he's always wanted to give.

You shouldn't look too much into rumors, you shouldn't worry about a thing, who cares about the fate of Aegon?

You have Aemond now... he'll fix everything... for you, the kingdom, and the seven realms.

#yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #yandere asoiaf #yandere aemond targaryen

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nothingbutsweetwords · 3 months ago

Text

ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

"ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ɢᴏ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴀɴᴅ…"

Word count: 7,150.

Fandom: House of the Dragon.

Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.

REUNION — 11. Her.

Her heart skipped a beat when, inadvertently, she nearly collided with him at the threshold of Helaena’s door. Although she should have anticipated the possibility of finding him there, her thoughts had absorbed her so completely that she forgot about that eventuality.

Aemond looked at her intently before slightly inclining his head in a greeting that felt as harsh as a cold slap. “Niece” he pronounced with a formality that seemed unusual, like a barrier that had risen.

It was as if that single word was a reminder of the distance that now lay between them, a sharp contrast to the days when they had called each other by their names, when their voices had been soft and intimate, meant only for each other’s ears.

Upon entering, a feeling of relief enveloped her, as if the warmth of the place allowed her to release the breath she had been holding and as if the very air within had the power to soothe her troubled spirit.

It was a reflection of Helaena: decorated with soft tones and peculiar objects that seemed to have been chosen with almost ritualistic care. There were antique furnishings and pale blue silk curtains, and delicate aromas of dried flowers and spices pervaded the air. Everything created an atmosphere that made her feel like she was in a world apart, far from the realities waiting outside those walls.

“It is lovely to see you, princess” Helaena said, her voice as soft and ethereal as she remembered, a melody that always seemed to float in the air. Despite the years, she retained that magical aura.

“And you as well, princess” she replied, returning the smile. “I was wondering, could I interest you in a walk through the gardens?”

Helaena’s smile deepened as she nodded, then rose from her chair and approached her. She remembered that she had never been fond of physical contact, so with a subtle gesture, she decided not to offer her arm, respecting that particular trait that had always characterized her.

They walked side by side, exchanging words about trivial matters as they made their way through the halls. The bustle that filled the place and the presence of others compelled them to keep the conversation light, avoiding topics that might attract idle glances. However, there was an undercurrent of unspoken thoughts, a tacit understanding flowing between them.

Eventually, the noise of the castle faded as they reached the gardens. The winding paths were lined with freshness and color, and the murmur of the fountains created a soothing symphony. The sky was a clear blue, dotted with fluffy clouds, and the air was filled with the sweet perfume of flowers and the crisp and salty scent of the sea.

“I heard that you got married” she began gently as she chose her words with care. She watched Helaena closely, noticing the way her serene expression flickered for a brief moment, a fleeting shadow crossing her face. It was a subtle change, almost imperceptible, but it revealed melancholy. A pang of guilt quickly followed, realizing she had touched a delicate subject. “I apologize, I did not intend to…”

“It is quite alright, do not fret” Helaena raised a hand to reassure her, a gesture filled with understanding that eased her discomfort. “This marriage may not have been what any of us would have wished for, but some things simply must be.”

She nodded, feeling a small ache as she saw the resignation in her aunt’s blue eyes, those that used to shine with such pure light and now seemed to have lost some of their sparkle. “He may not be the greatest husband, but he is a good brother” she added, offering a faint smile. Her words were an attempt at comfort, though she knew they carried a weight, an acknowledgment of the complexities and compromises Helaena had to endure.

She found herself wondering how much she had sacrificed, how many dreams had been set aside for the sake of duty.

“And are you happy here?” she asked, hoping to delve into Helaena’s feelings, into that deep well of emotions her aunt had always carried with her. There was something in her expression, a latent sadness, a yearning for something more that she couldn’t ignore.

Helaena paused, gazing into the distance before she spoke. “Happiness is a curious thing,” she said with a wistful tone, “sometimes it hides in the most unexpected places. I believe I have discovered a peace here that I did not foresee, though it is not what one might imagine.”

She felt admiration and sadness as she listened, recognizing the strength it took to find peace in less-than-ideal circumstances. “That can be a form of happiness” she offered gently, aiming to convey her understanding. “It may differ, but it is nonetheless genuine.”

Helaena smiled softly. “Indeed” she agreed. “It is a gift in itself, and I have learned to cherish it.”

She nodded slowly. She knew her aunt had always had a special connection to the world, a perception that transcended the visible, touching the mystical, the ineffable, and that what she had found was not resignation but a deep acceptance of her place in the grand scheme of things.

“And how has time treated you?” Helaena asked.

She swallowed, aware of the subtext in her own response. “Time can be relentless, yet it is also revealing” she said, with a tone that tried to remain neutral. “However, Dragonstone has truly brought me joy and transformed me.” A faint smile touched her lips as she allowed herself to reflect on the place she had come to love. “I hope you might visit someday; Aegon’s garden is as beautiful as they say. Perhaps less vibrant than this, but just as lovely. There are blueberry trees and numerous pines” she added.

Helaena nodded, her eyes shining. “Yes, I do like it very much” she said.

She cleared her throat, as if preparing to pose a question whose weight could change the course of the conversation. “How has he been?” she finally asked, her voice dropping to a whisper, almost as if fearing that the wind might carry her question away before receiving an answer.

“My dear brother is quite hard to decipher” she responded. “He has merely been… simply existing.” She paused, then added, “I do believe your visit might prove beneficial for him.”

A sharp, bitter laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it, a sound born of frustration and the nagging doubt that her presence could make any difference. Her expression twisted with sadness and cynicism, the weight of her feelings pressing down on her. “I am uncertain that my presence is what he requires” she muttered, the words tinged with a bitterness she hadn’t intended to show.

Helaena, however, only chuckled softly at her response, her gaze knowing. “You may be surprised” she said with a smile. “Sometimes, fate takes its toll on us in ways we cannot control” Helaena mused. “I am sure he wishes to speak with you.”

She knew that when Helaena spoke with certainty about the future, her words were more a revelation than a mere observation, so a spark of hope emerged within her.

The sea breeze gently caressed their faces as they continued walking through the gardens. The sound of waves breaking against the sand in the distance provided a soothing backdrop that accompanied their conversation.

“I recall when we used to play here” she said, her eyes sweeping over the landscape that had witnessed so many shared laughs and secrets. “We were so different then, so innocent.”

Helaena nodded. “Time alters us all… Yet, at times, I wonder if we truly change or if we merely uncover who we are meant to be.”

She furrowed her brow, pondering these words. “Perhaps that is the case” she murmured, more to herself than to Helaena, as if trying to unravel the hidden meaning behind that reflection. There was something in her aunt’s serenity that had always puzzled her, a kind of deep calm that contrasted with the turmoil that seemed to envelop the rest of the world.

“So, Silverwing” Helaena said suddenly, smiling with a glint of complicity in her face. She smiled at the simple mention.

“It was magnificent, Helaena” she said, filled with emotion. “I feel as though all the years I awaited have finally borne fruit.”

“I knew it would come to you,” Helaena said softly. “It was destined to be.” She lowered her gaze, her voice descending. “I did see a story repeating” she murmured. “The connection between you and her is deeper than you imagine, and your destiny is tied to hers in ways we do not yet understand.”

The words lingered in the air, imbued with mystery, as if the future was traced on an invisible line only she could see.

She fell silent, immersed in the depth of what she had just heard. The sensation of standing on the edge of a premonition, of knowing that something was coming but being unable to see it clearly, was both intriguing and unsettling. Her mind raced with possibilities, questions, and the fear of the unknown. With a nervous laugh that barely masked her growing unease, she asked, “Should I be fearful?”

Helaena’s expression softened, her lips parting to speak, but before she could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the fragile moment. A maid appeared before them, and with a respectful bow, informed them that Rhaenyra was awaiting her presence.

She nodded, thanking the maid with a faint smile. She turned to Helaena, who said, “It appears that duty always beckons.”

“Shall I accompany you back to your chambers?” she asked, hoping to prolong their time together, even if only for a few more minutes. There was so much left unsaid.

“I would prefer to stay here a little longer” Helaena replied softly, almost dreamy.

She nodded again, though her mind remained tangled. As she headed toward the exit of the gardens, her steps grew slower, and before crossing the threshold back to the castle, she turned once more to look at Helaena. There, standing among the flowers and the murmurs of the garden, Helaena with her enigma and wisdom seemed to hold answers to questions she hadn’t yet fully formed.

As she stood there, torn between staying and leaving, a flicker of movement caught her eye. From one of the nearby galleries, she saw Jacaerys making his way toward the garden. A spark of intrigue ignited within her at the sight of her brother, his presence unexpected.

She watched him for a brief moment, curiosity mingling with a sense of foreboding. With questions swirling in her mind, she finally turned away, continuing on her way.

After a quiet dinner with her family, she retired to her room. Although the bath was meant to be a refuge of calm, it did little to soothe her agitated mind; the words continued to echo in her head like an unrelenting echo.

Once in bed, frustration took hold of her, marking every line of her face with the hardness of unease. Uncertainty gnawed at her inside. Why would he want to talk to her? After years of cold silence, after so many unanswered letters and desperate pleas, what could he possibly have to say?

She wrestled with the idea of seeking him out. Why should she be the one to make the first move when he had maintained such a cruel distance? She recalled how that very morning, during breakfast, he had shown not the slightest indication of wanting to address her, and that indifference had felt like a calculated insult, intensifying the raw edge of her anger.

The annoyance turned into an oppressive presence. She felt trapped in a cruel paradox: cast aside and yet irresistibly drawn to him. She closed her eyes, grumbling. Worse still, memories began to flood her, each one more painful than the last. Everything about him was etched into her being in an indelible way, and yet, he remained an enigma, a question without an answer.

It was tormenting to dream of the delicate act of brushing his long, silken hair; distressing to aspire to feel the softness of his skin under her fingers; exasperating to imagine being close enough to trace the features that the years had added and molded on his face; unbearable to visualize his imposing presence beside her, and maddening to fantasize about kissing the lips she once knew.

Would it be enough to stand on tiptoe to reach him, or would he have to bend down as well to close their distance? Would his mouth still hold the same sweetness it had that night? Would she still melt under the heat of his proximity with the same intensity?

Then more demoralizing questions arose: Would she still be the only one whose arrival softened his gaze with relief and illuminated it with joy? Would she still be the only one he allowed himself to show his true vulnerability to, the only refuge for his battered soul?

Each memory, each fantasy, was an echo of what had been and what could have been, both a comfort and a torment. Resignation and hope intertwined within her, each struggling to dominate the other, leaving her at an emotional crossroads. The battle between the desire to forget him and the longing to reclaim him was so intense that it offered no peace.

She wanted to hate him for what he had caused her, for the endless nights of loneliness and tears shed in his name. She wanted to hate him for the agony of waiting for a sign that never came, for the affection that remained alive despite the pain. Yet, despite her resolve, she could not. Her soul, bruised and defenseless, could not harbor that hatred.

“Fuck” she cursed under her breath, burying her face in the pillow as if she could smother everything within her. But it was futile; every emotion refused to be silenced, every memory clung tightly to her soul.

Finally, unable to bear the pressure in her chest any longer, she got out of bed with a nearly frantic impulse. She needed to see him, and needed answers. She hastily dressed, her determined hands slipping into a silk robe that barely covered her attire, and took a candle to light her way.

She left her room, traversing the hallways she had long abandoned. Each step echoed in the night’s silence, and her thoughts raced uncontrollably, driven by an uncontainable longing. She didn’t know what she would find at the end of this path, but something inside her urged her to keep going, to face whatever awaited her in the darkness.

With each step, she questioned her decision, but then she saw him. There, approaching her. The dim light of the candle barely illuminated his features, but she didn’t need more to recognize him. They both stood frozen, staring at each other, each trapped in their own thoughts.

She wondered if he was there for her, if he had felt the same impulse, or if their meeting was merely a coincidence. Before he could confirm the latter, her lips moved forward, and though her voice tried to remain steady, a subtle tremor betrayed her nerves.

“I wished to speak with you” she said, her words hanging in the air, a tentative bridge between the two of them, each waiting for the other to cross it. “Shall we go to your chambers?”

He nodded, and though the dimness made it hard to read his expression, the surprise was evident in the tension of his posture, in the way his shoulders lifted slightly.

He walked silently beside her, guiding her to his room. The space had remained untouched, as if the years had not left their mark. Everything was in place, meticulously ordered.

She set the candle on the bedside table, and with an instinctive gesture, her gaze landed on a sapphire resting in the same spot as the one she had gifted him so many years ago. This one was smaller, less imposing, yet its presence in that familiar place pierced her core in a way she hadn't anticipated. A dull ache pierced her chest.

Without saying a word, she walked to the window, seeking the fresh air that seemed just beyond the glass. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her irregular breathing, but the words slipped from her lips before she could stop them.

“Why?” The word cut through the air like a knife, sharpened by years of pain, unrequited love, and accumulated fear that had festered in silence. She turned on her heels to face him, her voice trembling with the intensity of what she felt. At that moment, more than ever, she needed the truth.

Why had he ignored her for so long? What invisible force had kept him away, preventing him from responding, from seeking her, even once?

She wasn't sure what answer she was yearning for. Perhaps finding comfort in the notion that he hadn’t cared as much as she had; though such a revelation might break her heart again, it would at least allow her to turn away and bury those fragile hopes that kept her on edge.

Finally, in a grave and almost muted whisper, he said: “Why what?” Hearing him again made her pulse race.

“Why did you never come to see me?” she asked, her composure wavering, barely upheld by the strength of her resolve.

The silence that followed was unbearable. He looked at her, his eye reflecting a storm of emotions, but his lips remained sealed, as if the answers were trapped in his throat, unable to escape. His mouth opened and closed several times, making no sound, as if the weight of the truth was too heavy to bear.

“I did not know if you wished for my presence” he finally responded, so simple that it seemed almost insulting, only deepening her disbelief.

“Is this some jest? I asked you so many times” she demanded with growing bitterness. “Did my letters mean so little to you that you did not even take the time to read them?” Her voice hardened, laden with a suppressed rage that had been wounding her for too long.

“What letters?” he asked, his confusion evident, etching across his face like a blank canvas, as if he couldn’t comprehend the words she spoke. The question seemed almost naive.

“The letters!” she exclaimed, feeling her short patience running thin with every passing second, “the ones I sent you” she added, stating the obvious. The urgency to clarify the situation was like an unstoppable force, driving her to speak, to bring to light what had remained hidden. “I thought we had something special. Did I imagine it?” She finally cracked. “I waited for so long, I wrote to you so many times, like a fool. I hoped… I hoped for a response, a visit, something to let me know you hadn’t forgotten me” she confessed, her emotions overflowing, raw and naked before him.

“You wrote me?” he asked, as if he needed to hear it once more to fully grasp the reality of her words.

She glared at him, her frustration boiling over. How could he be so cruel as to toy with her emotions? “Do not mock me” she snapped, turning her back on him in anger.

She felt his proximity, the radiance of his body like a magnet drawing her in, but she forced herself to look out the window, struggling to regain her composure. Then, his voice broke through, filled with a desperation that tugged at her heartstrings.

“I wrote to you as well, hundreds of times. I swear this to you, by all the gods” he said, pleading. There was something in his tone, an earnestness that made her hesitate. It sounded so genuine, so wounded, that she couldn’t simply dismiss it.

“I never received a single letter from you” she countered, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Nor did I. Not one. Had I received any, I would have come to you at once. You must believe me" he replied with pain, as if each word cost him dearly. “I thought you did not want to hear from me”

She studied him, trying to read the truth in his eyes, the shadow of anguish that seemed to cling to him. Despite the sincerity she sensed, a veil of doubt still loomed over her, casting a cold shadow over her. He had never deceived her before, and she had no reason to disbelieve him now, but the situation didn’t make sense.

“Why would I not?” she asked, distrustful. His shoulders rose in a gesture of ignorance, unable to offer a concrete answer. The confusion on his face reflected the internal chaos they shared.

Then, a possibility emerged in her mind. What if he was telling the truth? What if the years of separation were not due to their own actions, but to some malevolent force that had kept them apart? The idea was both terrifying and liberating, but she still couldn’t fully accept it.

She shook her head, her mind spinning in a whirlwind of contradictory thoughts. She began to pace nervously around the room, searching for answers in the air. Her steps were quick, uneven, as her mind tried to process what she was hearing. The room felt smaller, as if the walls were closing in. After several minutes of internal struggle, she halted abruptly and turned to face him. He stood still, his gaze fixed on her.

“Are you not upset about this?” she asked, skepticism still marking her tone. If all of this was true, then the situation was even more perplexing, almost impossible to comprehend.

He looked at her intently, his eye piercing through all her barriers, touching her very soul. “I cannot find it within myself to be angry at this moment, not when you are here before me once more” he whispered with a tenderness that seemed straight out of her wildest dreams. His words were heavy with a melancholic sincerity, as if every syllable was a tribute that carried the weight of the years they had been apart. Her own heartbeats began to quicken, almost painfully, resonating in her ears.

“I never stopped thinking about you, wondering why I never heard from you, missing you” he continued, cutting through the layers of her distrust. “I never wanted to lose you.”

The tears that had been threatening to appear pooled in her eyes, clouding her vision. “Is that true?” she asked, trembling. “Did you truly never stop thinking about me?”

He moved closer slowly, closing the distance between them with each step. “Never,” he confirmed, “not for a single second.” A small shiver ran down her spine as she heard him. The romantic words she had longed for so much, which had seemed like mere whispers in books and songs, were now manifesting in her reality, but it felt so surreal that surrendering to it seemed almost naive.

She bit her lower lip, struggling to maintain control, to not give in. She shook her head, avoiding his gaze, murmuring softly, “This is too much.”

With an air of quiet acceptance, he responded, “I understand. Take all the time you need.”

She turned away, still in shock, her mind unable to fully process what had just happened. Before she could think any further, she turned back and threw herself into his arms, her body acting on her deepest wants.

He, always so prepared for anything, took a step back, caught off guard by her sudden move. Feeling his heart racing, tears began to fall uncontrollably. The embrace was fierce, as if she could hold onto the fragments of their lost time and prevent them from slipping away like the letters they never received.

He held her close, gently resting his head on hers. The only sound in the room was her ragged breathing and the small sobs escaping from her throat, creating an intimate cocoon of shared vulnerability.

“I am sorry, I am sorry for everything” she whispered through her tears. She didn’t quite know the reason for the lament, perhaps for the love they had let slip away, or for the illusion she had created to justify his silence, which didn’t do justice to the boy she had loved. She closed her eyes, letting herself be carried away by the moment, allowing her emotions to overflow.

After a few minutes, she lifted her head to look at him. “What do we do now?” she asked, searching for a glimmer of direction, a way forward amidst the uncertainty.

He raised a hand to her face, gently wiping away the tears that fell, the hot contact on her skin causing a tingling sensation. “I won’t let us be separated again” he said with firm determination. “If you will allow me, I wish to mend what has been broken.”

He looked at her expectantly, searching for a sign of consent, and she nodded softly, accepting the offer. In that moment, she understood that, despite the time and distance, maybe, just maybe, they could find a way back to each other.

Time seemed to stand still, suspended in a heavy silence. Their gazes intertwined, merging in an instant that felt endless. Finally, she slowly pulled away from him, though his hands seemed reluctant to let her go. With her mind overwhelmed, she let out a deep sigh and turned toward the door.

He took the candle and opened the door. He went first, leading the way that she knew better. A small smile appeared on her lips.

Arriving at the door of her room, she pushed it open and entered, pausing to look back at him. He stayed a few inches behind, right at the threshold. “Take it” she said, pointing to the candle. He nodded with a small smile forming at the corner of his lips. “Good night” she added.

“Good night” he replied.

Before closing the door, she gathered her courage and planted a small kiss on his cheek. The contact, though brief, left him momentarily stunned. As the door clicked shut, she leaned against it, allowing herself a moment of solitude, letting out another deep sigh.

As the minutes passed and the echo of his footsteps faded in the hallway, she moved further into the room. She set aside her silk robe and collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. She buried her face in the pillow, stifling a cry of frustration and relief, letting the weight of the evening’s emotions pour out.

Dawn brought a new perspective and a soft light that had yet to filter through the window. She woke up with a sense of duality, both agitated and peaceful, her thoughts still tangled with the events of the previous night.

The revelation that her letters had never reached their recipient, that the words she had poured out with so much love and desperation had been lost in a void of no return, was a bittersweet blow.

It had been both reassuring and heart-wrenching at the same time, a truth that revealed much and, at the same time, very little. It had stolen her years of companionship but also showed her the resilience of a bond that seemed to defy distance and time.

She slowly sat up, the weight of emotions still fresh. Before she could finish getting ready, the door creaked open, and Lyra entered with a look of shock.

“Did you tumble from your bed?” she joked. “Are you well?” she asked, moving closer upon noticing her expression.

She took her friend's hand and gently guided her to the bed. Lyra sat beside her, her eyes filled with silent empathy.

“Has something happened?” Lyra pressed, shifting from playful to serious, and her brow furrowed more intensely.

“I visited his chambers last night” she said directly, without preamble. The reaction was immediate: her mouth fell slightly open.

“Why on earth would you do that?” Lyra asked, her voice rising with indignation. She made a gesture with her hand, signaling her to keep her tone down. “Why?” she repeated, more forcefully this time.

“I needed to speak with him” she replied. The expression on Lyra’s face turned into a blend of understanding and exasperation as she tilted her head, studying her. “You yourself suggested we needed to resolve matters” she justified, trying to validate her actions.

Lyra’s eyes narrowed slightly, a gesture of reprimand. “I did not intend for you to seek him out in his chamber in the middle of the night” she corrected, low and tense. “If someone were to find out…”

“Nothing happened, we merely conversed” she interrupted, trying to defuse the situation.

“But you are not children any longer” Lyra continued, concerned. “Such a visit would not be well seen, especially not for you.” She nodded, acknowledging the truth in those words. “Well, go on then, what did he say?” Lyra asked finally, her curiosity clearly overcoming her initial concern.

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “He claimed he never received my letters and that he had written to me” she replied, quoting his words. “It turns out, both of us were left waiting, each under the impression that the other had moved on.”

“How can that be?” Lyra inquired. “That is a great deal to process.” After a moment of reflection, she asked cautiously, in a barely perceptible whisper, squeezing her hands. “Do you believe him?”

“Yes, I do. Besides, what motive would he have to deceive me? If he had truly ignored my letters, he would have no reason to deny it.” She sighed before continuing. “Aemond can be unkind at times, but he has never been untrue.”

Lyra nodded, although doubt still lingered in her mind. “Do you think it could have been…?” she began, her tone dropping even further, as if fearing the words she was about to utter, hesitant to voice the suspicion.

“I do not believe so” she replied firmly. “This seems excessive, even for her.” Lyra looked at her skeptically, recalling past actions.

“For the woman who nearly harmed your mother?” Lyra asked, with an incredulous grimace. She bit her lip, knowing that a mother’s desperation can drive one to extreme measures, but she didn’t dismiss the idea entirely.

“But this situation does not solely affect me” she continued, with an intensity reflecting the complexity of the situation. “It affects him as well. And she cares for him deeply.”

“Precisely” Lyra agreed. “She would do whatever it takes to protect him.”

“Protect him from what?” she asked with confusion. The question hung in the air, and Lyra remained silent, without a clear answer.Then, finally spoke, thoughtful.

“She might have had reasons to keep him away from you, perhaps out of fear or misguided protection.”

She pondered, her mind racing with the possibilities. “But why? What could be so dire that it would justify such measures?”

“I do not know. But at least you have cleared the air now. What comes next?”

“I am not entirely sure” she admitted.

After a few minutes of silent reflection, a soft chuckle escaped Lyra’s lips, slowly building into a cascade of infectious giggles. The accumulated tension seemed to dissipate with that joyful sound. She looked at her, caught off guard by the sudden shift in mood.

“What is so amusing?” she asked.

Lyra tried to stifle her laughter, covering her mouth with her hand, but her eyes sparkled with a mischievous gleam. “Ever since I arrived, I have been giving him the cold shoulder” she admitted between giggles. “The poor boy must be utterly baffled.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image of a confused and helpless Aemond. “Do you think he noticed?” she asked, the smile still lingering on her lips.

“Most likely, I looked at him like he was the stranger himself.” Lyra replied, her laughter still bubbling up. “He must have wondered what on earth he did to earn such hostility.”

Their laughter intertwined, filling the room with a warm, rejuvenating energy, washing away the remnants of earlier worries.

“Thank you for always standing by my side” she said with genuine gratitude.

“Always” Lyra replied, her hand gently brushing against hers.

Before long, a soft, persistent knocking at the door interrupted their conversation. Lyra stood up and went to open it, revealing the small figure of her younger brother, peeking in with some shyness.

“I came to fetch you for breakfast” Joffrey said.

She smiled and rose from the bed, feeling a renewed sense of purpose as she got up. She approached him, taking his tiny hand tenderly, and let him lead her.

After breakfast, she enjoyed a leisurely stroll with Joffrey, their small conversation peppered with laughter. Later, they lost themselves in the depths of the library, where he became utterly captivated by the history of dragons, his curiosity leading to a flurry of questions that she eagerly answered, pleased to see his fascination.

As the day wore on, and she returned to her chambers, she began to feel the gentle pull of fatigue settling over her. With thoughts of a possible meeting lingering in her mind, she slipped off her shoes, intending to indulge in a brief nap. But just as she was about to surrender to the comfort of her bed, a series of gentle knocks interrupted her reverie. The sound was unusual, coming from the back door. A flutter of excitement stirred within her as she quickly made her way to the door.

When she opened it, she found him standing there, his expression showing relief. The sight of him brought an instant smile to her lips, one that he mirrored with a sincere, if slightly reserved, smile of his own. The mere sight of his face was a cure for her restless soul.

“My prince, it’s a pleasure to see you” she said, friendly.

“The pleasure is all mine, my princess” he responded carrying a touch of formality that didn’t quite mask the underlying nervousness. After a brief pause, he cleared his throat and added, with a hint of uncertainty, “I was wondering if you might grace me with your company for lunch.”

She looked at him, feeling a pleasant warmth spread through her. Her heart fluttered with anticipation. “Yes, I would like that. Shall we dine on the balconies?” she suggested, her tone light and inviting.

He hesitated, a flicker of unease crossing his features as his gaze shifted. “I was thinking… perhaps my chambers” he finally said, unsure whether his proposal would meet her expectations.

She raised her eyebrows in mock startelement, a playful glint as she teased, “Do you truly believe that to be appropriate?”

His composure faltered, and a faint blush crept up his neck. “No, of course not, you are right” he stammered, clearly flustered. “If the balconies are your preference, I can…” His voice faded into a murmur, the words trailing off into an insecure murmur.

She interrupted him with a light laugh, a melody that seemed to dissipate the tension in the air. “I was only jesting, let us be off.”

She turned away momentarily to slip her shoes back on, then returned to his side, his expression more relaxed. He offered his arm to her, and she took it gently, feeling the heat of the contact despite the leather suit he wore.

Together, they walked their way down the hall, the midday sun filtering through the narrow windows, bathing their faces in golden light that made the atmosphere feel even more intimate. They couldn’t help but steal furtive glances, trying to decipher each other’s thoughts.

Upon reaching his room, she was greeted by a scene of meticulous preparation. The table near the window was elegantly set, offering a breathtaking view of the city below. Every detail had been considered—the dishes arranged with care, the variety of delicacies laid out like a feast for the senses, all reflecting the thoughtfulness of someone who had taken great pains to create something special.

As they approached the table, he hurried to pull out a chair for her, a courteous gesture that brought a soft smile to her lips. “Thank you” she murmured as she settled into it.

He sat across from her, and as he did, the atmosphere seemed to soften, the initial tension giving way to a more comforting familiarity. “An entire army could feast on this” she teased, her gaze sweeping over the overflowing table. “Does no one find it strange that you requested so much food?” Her curiosity was laced with a hint of excitement, wondering if he had mentioned she was joining him.

He offered a shy smile, a quiet laugh escaping as he began serving the food. “I was unsure of your preferences” he admitted. “And no, I usually dine with my sister.” His voice held a note of apology that didn’t go unnoticed by her.

“I am sorry for the inconvenience to her” she said, with a slight disappointment, but acknowledging the thoughtfulness behind his gesture. The care he’d taken in preparing the lunch spoke volumes, revealing a sincere desire to share this moment with her.

“No such thing” he reassured, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. She understood the unspoken message—Helaena, no doubt, was already aware and understood.

As they began to serve themselves, the meal took on a significance beyond the food on their plates. Their conversation flowed easily, touching on lighthearted topics—books they had read, childhood memories that evoked shared laughter, recent events that bridged the gap of time they had spent apart. She noticed how his face brightened with each bite, relaxed. Yet, beneath their words, there was a palpable tension underlying it, a tacit acknowledgment that something important was about to be discussed.

When the meal drew to a close, a silence settled between them—not the awkward kind, but rather the type that felt like a collective breath, a pause before something of great importance. It was as if they were both gathering their thoughts, preparing for the conversation they both knew was inevitable. The room, now quieter, holding its breath alongside them, the air thick with anticipation as they hovered on the brink of a pivotal moment.

She stood up slowly, excusing herself before walking toward the window. Perching on its edge, she gazed out, lost in the endless expanse of the city below. After a brief pause, he followed, leaning against the wall beside her, close enough to share the view but leaving a respectful distance. “It seems like the city never rests” she whispered, barely louder than the soft hum of life outside. He followed her gaze, nodding in quiet agreement.

The silence between them grew deeper, as if the world itself had paused to allow them to find the right words. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Last night… I did not truly know what to say” he confessed, his gaze fixed on the ground as if searching for answers in the stones. His hands, usually so sure and steady, now betrayed him, fidgeting with a nervous energy that seemed out of place. “It was… too overwhelming.” She watched him, allowing him to find his own rhythm as he spoke, giving him space to organize his thoughts.

“I cannot help but feel that this is an opportunity the gods have placed before us” he continued, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips, a fragile flicker of hope igniting within him. “I know not if this is the right moment… or if there ever is a right moment” he added, his fingers scratching at the sensitive skin on the side of his nails.

Before his nervous hands could inflict harm, she reached out, gently enclosing them within her own, her fingers wrapping around his in a tender, reassuring embrace. Under her comforting touch, his anxiety slowly faded. She drew him closer, making him sit beside her, their faces now almost at the same level.

He looked out toward the horizon. “I know I promised you time last night… and if that is what you require, I shall honor it” he murmured. “We can start anew… rediscover who we are now. But I feel that, no matter how much we have changed, deep within… we are still ourselves. And I have spent too many days regretting the words I never spoke, the chances I did not seize.”

He turned his gaze from the horizon back to her. “And if there is one thing of which I am certain, it is what I feel for you” he whispered, raw with emotion.

She met his gaze, her curiosity flickering, the unspoken need to hear the words that had yet to cross his lips. “And what, pray tell, do you feel for me?” she asked softly, aching to uncover the depths of him.

He inched a little closer, his eye locking onto hers with a fierce intensity that seemed to draw in all the light around them and steal her breath away. “A force that compels me to search for you in every corner of my soul, the reason my days feel hollow and incomplete if you are not in them" he said, letting the weight of his feelings settle between them like a fragile, precious thing. "Without you, I am but a dragon without fire, a mere shadow of what I could be… with you by my side”

She stared at him, paralyzed by the beauty of his words, unable to find her voice. The seconds stretched out, feeling like an eternity until he, with a tone laced with vulnerability, asked, “And you, do you feel the same about me?”

A pang of remorse pierced her chest for making him wait and for the doubt she had created in him. “Yes, I do” she answered with the undeniable truth.

He sighed, relief and hope lighting up his face. “I believe we must tread cautiously, at least for a time” he said. “There is still one who does not wish to see us united. If we keep this between us, it will be easier to protect what we share.”

She nodded, caught in a tug-of-war between the desire to proclaim their love to the world and the understanding of his wish for caution. While every fiber of her being longed to declare their victory over the obstacles that had stood in their way, she knew there was wisdom in his words.

“I have missed you” he confessed so soft it was almost swallowed by the quiet of the room.

“And I you” she replied, “dearly”

He looked at her with a tenderness that made her heart swell, then the space between them seemed to dissolve as their hands remained clasped. He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against hers. “Would you like to spend the rest of the afternoon with me?” he asked, his tone gentle and inviting.

@helaenaluvr @purplegardenwhispers @callsignwidow @scarletbedlam @fics-i-love-and-recommend @squidscottjeans @truly-abysmal @fossface @congenialcopycat @that-girl-named-alex @oh-you-mean-me

now it's going to start the good part i promise! besitos.

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen fluff #hotd fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond

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e1e4n0r5 · 11 months ago

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Twisted Love - Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Summary: You always expected to marry your twin brother, Daeron. However, when this does not come to be, you find comfort with your siblings. As only Targaryens could.

Okay, can't lie, I struggled with this chapter. I just wanted to bring Daeron back but logistically couldn't because of the necessary time jump. After all, it would have been very unlikely for Alicent & Otto to allow Daeron to come home the second Reader is no longer "available", so yes we have a time jump. Lovely family life for our foursome!

Warnings: oral sex, vaginal sex, pregnancy, descriptions of childbirth, lactation kink, talk of postpartum bodies

As it turned out, perhaps you were meant for Aemond all along. Over the two years previous, Aemond had proven himself to be an excellent lover, whilst still able to maintain the public façade of being simply a loving brother to his younger sister. But from the moment the two of you first walked arm-in-arm through the corridors of the Red Keep, he excelled as a husband. He thrived on it, basking in it. Born to fulfil that role. The validation and approval he felt when he saw the courtiers looking at your matching rings satisfied him immensely. He practically preened whenever someone addressed either of you as ‘husband’ or ‘wife’. Your husband was glowing with pride, and you loved that for him.

Growing up, the middle Targaryen-Hightower sibling often felt excluded from the five of you. There was Aegon and Helaena, and you and Daeron. Where did that leave Aemond, he wondered all his life. He didn’t know that you had never intended for your second brother to be excluded; you would have taken him as a second husband in the very same ceremony in which you would have married Daeron. The five of you would never have been separated. You would never have allowed that to happen. Never.

But now he felt secure in his place, with you officially by his side and he by yours. Before your marriage, the two of you would spend time together, of course, you were siblings after all. But now, it was like Aemond wanted you with him constantly. He could barely stand to be apart from you. He even moved his training time to the first thing in the morning, at the very crack of dawn, because he knew you slept until mid-morning, and he wanted to be there when you woke. He didn’t want to miss a second with you. After he broke fast with you, you bathed together – he had to clean after his training, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to spend time with your handsome naked husband – then you would both spend time with family, typically Helaena and the children. You would ride your dragons together, walk through the gardens together, read in the library together. Every possible second he could spend by your side, Aemond did so.

But it didn’t madden you, because you understood the reason why: Aemond was happy.

At long last, Aemond Targaryen was finally happy.

After spending his entire childhood feeling isolated, being bullied by the Velaryon boys for not having a dragon, then having his eye carved out by Lucerys after claiming Vhagar, Aemond was finally happy with his life. He had a beautiful wife who loved him; two lovers in his other siblings; and finally approval from the courtiers – despite how much he might deny how important that last part was to him. You were well loved at court, and he was your husband; having an adored wife was always a bonus for a prince. After Rhaenyra’s long absences from court, her moniker had somehow been placed upon your head, and Aemond flourished in the knowledge that his wife was now the Realm’s Delight. It thrilled him.

So no-one was shocked when you announced your pregnancy within only a few months of being married. You lay with your husband almost every night and you never once drank Moon Tea. It was inevitable, and most welcome. Not entirely by your mother or grandsire. They both smiled for you and toasted your health, but you could tell they weren’t completely happy. Perhaps they had hoped that if no children occurred soon enough, that they could dissolve the marriage and use either you, Aemond, or both of you to secure alliances elsewhere in the Six Kingdoms. But your mother hugged you and wished you well, offering advice and support about pregnancy and what you could expect.

Helaena announced her pregnancy a fortnight after yours but told you when you were all together that night that she had conceived the same night as you – your wedding night. The four of you were all thrilled; you had everything you wanted. You were all together, and there were two babes on the way. Life was perfect.

But you did still miss Daeron. You were delightfully happy and content with your new life, but that didn't - couldn't – take away how much you still longed for your twin. When the midwife had confirmed your pregnancy and a kiss had been pressed to your cheek, a part of you had expected to turn your head and see Daeron beside you. You weren't disappointed that it was Aemond, but that part of you that had long desired to marry Daeron hadn't gone away.

And you knew Daeron felt the same. You wrote to your twin almost every day, even though ravens took almost a week to travel to Oldtown and another week to return. You and Daeron would just send your replies to each other paired with the original letter, that way you would always know which conversation you were replying to. But when you sent him your letter announcing your pregnancy, he didn't respond to it. He replied to others, with an undeniably stilted tone, but he never addressed your condition. He would ask if you were well and that he wished you good health, but he never directly acknowledged the babe in your belly. You knew it must have been hard for him, to hear of your marriage to another brother and know that you were carrying that other man's child, but it still hurt.

You could only hope that your mother and grandsire would finally allow Daeron to return home, now that they thought you weren't free to marry each other. Nothing to do, but wait for the final sibling to return home. It was just a question of how long that would take.

Aemond closed the door behind him as he returned from visiting Vhagar. He glanced around your rooms on his way inside.

“Abrazȳrys? (wife)” he called.

A sash suddenly came down over his head, pressing lightly against his throat. For a split second, Aemond panicked, but then he calmed as he assessed the situation. It was a silk sash, not a rope or chain. Whoever was behind him was significantly smaller than him, with breasts and a bumped stomach. An unlikely assassin. Then a familiar perfume filled his senses.

“You shouldn't play with fire, little one,” he purred. “We wouldn't want you getting burned,” he looked over his shoulder at you.

You smiled up at him, the ends of the sash in your hands. “I won't get burned, husband-”

“Then would you care to explain your actions? Sneaking up on a trained warrior, tying a rope around his neck... Something awful could have happened to you had I not recognised your delicious fragrance.” His voice was hard, reprimanding you.

You pouted. “I wanted to take charge tonight.”

That shocked Aemond. You had never once expressed a desire to be in charge in the bedroom, always so happy and willing to follow his lead in everything you did together. You didn’t even top with Aegon or Helaena – you were the most submissive sibling, always happy to submit to everyone. Aemond himself was the most dominant, never submitting to anyone. Aegon was mostly dominant, though he did enjoy certain submissive activities – he had even fully submitted to Aemond on several occasions. Helaena was flexible, though she was always dominant to you.

“What has provoked this new want of yours?”

You shrugged. “I don't know precisely. I just want to try it, see if I like it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I can fetch Aegon or Helaena-”

“No,” you protested. “I want it to be you.”

He turned slowly in your arms, the sash moving from his throat to the back of his neck. “I'm not suited to submission, Y/N.”

You frowned sadly. “You don't trust me.”

“I trust you with my very being, with all that I am.”

“…But?”

He pulled you close, pressing his hips to yours as best he could, given your lightly rounded pregnant belly. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather I take over, darling? You always receive such pleasure with me, do you not? You know I can give you anything you desire,” he ran the tip of his nose up your neck, pressing soft kisses as he went.

Your eyes fluttered closed, sighing softly. But you stopped. “No! No, I know what tricks you’re playing,” you protested.

Aemond sighed through his nose. “You won't be swayed?”

You shook your head.

“There is nothing I can offer, or promise, or provide you that will change your mind?”

Again, you shook your head.

“Very well then.” He stood up straight, clasping his arms behind his back. “Do you want to begin now?”

You grinned widely, nodding. “Yes!”

“Then I am yours.”

Hours later

You took control hours ago, and you had only climaxed once, Aemond not at all. You had started the two of you off slowly, asking Aemond for a long massage of your entire body. Your pregnancy was starting to send aches through your body as you grew to accommodate your baby, and you were getting sore most days. It was certainly no hardship for Aemond to lie you down, supporting your body with soft pillows atop your bed, and slowly, sensually, and thoroughly rub his hands across your body. He made a note to himself to do it for you more often; going by the sounds you made, your body definitely needed it.

He had soothed your body for an hour, leaving you floppy and relaxed on the bed. Afterwards, you took control back and had him get on his knees at the end of the bed. Again, not exactly a hardship for him. But it had been for you; your desire to be in control had made you direct him too much – ‘up a bit, harder, suck gently, faster’ – and rendered you unable to truly relax and enjoy your husband’s attention. When Aemond politely suggested that you relax and let him please you his way, given how he knew your body and knew precisely how to give the most pleasure, you had reprimanded him, thinking he was trying to take back control.

It was a long hour for the both of you before your legs had finally started to shake and your orgasm eventually arrived, not as satisfying as usual. You then ordered your husband onto his back on the bed, climbing over his hips and started to ride. Something you had done many times and that you both always enjoyed. But it wasn't going well.

Aemond looks up at you, pity rising inside him as he watches you grip the headboard over his head and try to maintain your rhythm. You’re tiring, quickly. He can read your face perfectly after years of experience; your head tilted forward indicates your fatigue from riding; the tiniest crease between your brows shows your frustration at not climaxing for so long; and the subtle tremor of your jaw tells him you’re close to tears.

He squeezes your hips softly. “Y/N,” he purrs your name, “stop, sweetheart-”

“No!” you snap. “I can-” you pause to pant, “I can keep going! I’m doing it! I’m in charge!”

He shakes his head. “Y/N, do you trust me?”

His random question makes you stop, your quivering thighs giving way and dropping your hips onto his. “What?”

“Do you trust me?” he repeats calmly, rubbing his hand over your tense thighs. He’ll need to massage them again later.

Your shaking arms drop down from the headboard, falling limply at your sides. “Yes,” you concede.

He knows you’ve given up, and that you’re upset about it. He knows you feel like a failure. “Come here, darling,” he urges you to lie down against his chest, holding you tightly. He gives you a minute to catch your breath, kissing your forehead every few seconds. When your breathing has slowed, he tightens his hold on you, slowly and carefully rolling the two of you over. With your body under his, you visibly relax, your drained body sinking into the soft mattress with a relieved sigh.

“You did so well, darling,” he praises, dotting kisses all over your cheeks and neck.

You’re too exhausted to shake your head. “It was awful! I could have done-”

“It was your first attempt at domination, Y/N. You can always try again.”

“With Aegon or Helaena,” you giggle.

He smiles down at you. “That would be best. I’d be happy to instruct you, if that was what you wanted?”

You shake your head. “I actually didn’t enjoy it that much. It made my mind too busy; I couldn’t focus on enjoying myself. How do you do it? How do you make it seem like you’re focusing on me completely, and still be able to find your own pleasure?”

He slips his fingers into your hair, rubbing your scalp gently. Your eyes close as you release a low moan. “Because for me, receiving your submission and giving you pleasure is what gives me pleasure. Having you suck my cock is pleasurable, but it’s your submission in the act that is most satisfying for me. Your cunt is a joy to fuck, but it’s the trust you place in me as I do that fulfils me. Do you understand, darling?”

You nod. “I think so?”

He kisses your lips. “Good. Do you want to continue, or should we let you rest?”

“I want you to finish,” you answer, surprising him.

“Not yourself as well?”

You shrug. “I think I’m too tired.”

He smirks. “Well, that is a challenge if ever I knew one. Let’s see what we can do for you, shall we?”

And he did not disappoint. He started slow, letting your body adjust to him again through your fatigue. It was the most pleasure you’d experienced all evening. He held you close, kissing you deeply, knowing just what rhythm to keep by how you moved under him, the sounds you made, the way you begged him for more. It was well into the night when you finally used your safe word, tapping his shoulder three times with a mumbled 'bantazma' (long night), indicating to Aemond that perhaps eight orgasms was sufficient for the evening.

He made you do fifteen the following night.

Your pregnancy went perfectly, everyone said you handled it wonderfully. Like a true Princess, many courtiers had complimented. Helaena gave birth only a few days before you, to a beautiful healthy son. They had yet to announce a name for their third child, and you suspected she and Aegon were waiting for you to give birth yourself. Your sister had mentioned a few times that she thought it would be nice for your children to have similar names, given that they were conceived on the same night. If the Maesters and midwives were to be believed, your labours would begin any day.

And it was. You started having pains in the late hours, Aemond staying up all night to rub your back and tummy for you as you tried to get some rest. By day break, your waters had broken and your pains increased. The Maesters tried to make Aemond leave the room, but he just stared them down.

"The birthing room is not a fit place for a man, your Highness."

"And how do you plan on removing me from my wife as she births our child?" he snapped coldly, even as he rubbed your hips whilst you clung to him during a contraction.

"He stays," you insisted through gritted teeth. “If you take him from me, our dragons will feed well tomorrow.”

Helaena and your mother came in from time to time, giving Aemond brief respites, but he was never gone long. Aegon stayed with the children and nannies, keeping himself occupied and out the way. Whilst he did want to see you, it wasn't permitted – after all, to everyone else, he was merely your brother, nothing more. To have him, a man who wasn’t your husband or a Maester, in the room would have caused scandal and rumour. Aemond assured him whenever he left the room that you were doing well and the Maesters had absolutely no concerns about you or the child. They anticipated an easy birth for you both.

And they were correct. It was agony, but all went well. You insisted on pushing completely naked, standing in front of the window, looking out over the city. The sun was high in the sky and bathed your skin with its heat. It soothed your Targaryen blood, and you felt peace as you pushed, despite the pain. Aemond stood by your side, holding you upright as the midwife guided your efforts. With a long and low groan, your child was born just after midday. A son was placed in your arms, crying his lungs out until he rested his ear against your chest. Aemond held you tightly as you wept with joy, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as a tear slipped down his own cheek.

The midwives cleaned you up and got you back into bed, your mother the Queen waiting patiently outside to be let in. She, Aegon, and Helaena carrying her new-born son, all entered when you called them in, large smiles all around.

“Well done, my darling,” your mother praised, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “A healthy son?”

You smiled down at your sleeping babe. “He’s perfect.”

“Have you got a name?” Aegon asked, standing next to Aemond and giving him a congratulatory pat on the back.

Aemond looked at you, and you gave him a happy nod. He lifted his head proudly. “We've called him Maenor.”

Aegon raised his eyebrows. “There's never been a Maenor before.”

“First of His Name,” you agreed. You looked at Helaena and her baby. “Have you finally got a name for your son, sister?”

She came and sat next to you on the bed. “We waited for you. This is Maelor.”

Aemond looked at Aegon, “First of His Name?”

Aegon nodded proudly. “Great minds think alike, brother.”

“Maelor and Maenor?” Alicent blinked a few times but smiled at both her daughters. “They're both beautiful boys, with strong names. Though it may take some time to...Remember.”

You smiled at your obviously tense mother. “Just remember that both Helaena and Maelor have Ls in their names, and me and my son don't.”

She nodded. “Very helpful, daughter, thank you.”

Motherhood came naturally to you. Of course you had nannies and a wet nurse to care for your son during the nights, but you wouldn't be removed from him after you woke. You even followed in Helaena’s footsteps and shocked the court by feeding Maenor from your own breast. It was almost completely unheard of that a high-born lady would nurse their children – your own mother certainly hadn't – but you loved the bond it created between the two of you. It was hard at first, even painful at times, but it was worth it to you.

Your brothers and sister had no complaints either. After the Maester and midwife had cleared you and Helaena to resume ‘marital relations’, the four of you had almost fallen over each other to get back to Aegon’s and Helaena’s rooms. And the first thing the three of them did was strip you naked, lay you down and worship your breasts. You, Aegon, and Aemond had all sampled Helaena’s milk from having the twins; and now the three of them wanted to try yours.

Aemond had already had a taste when you nervously indulged his interest one night, so he settled his head between your legs whilst your siblings kissed and licked and sucked gently on your breasts. He had sorely missed this most intimate part of you since your birth, and he was aching to get reacquainted. He kissed and licked and sucked gently, bringing you to a soft and peaceful climax for your first time after having a baby, and you almost cried with your release.

Then it was Helaena’s turn, receiving the same treatment from the three of you; her husband between her legs and her siblings at her breasts. She had a few more lines on her tummy than you, and you made sure to kiss every single one.

Life had moved on with your growing family, now a family of four with a daughter following your son. Maenor was now four, and your beautiful, sweet Aena was nine moons. You didn’t know where the time had gone, life and time were odd concepts. Helaena hadn’t had another child after their son born only one week before Maenor, but she and Aegon had said she was going to stop taking Moon Tea soon. Knowing how easily she had fallen pregnant with the twins and their son Maelor, Helaena would be pregnant before her next moon’s blood.

The four of you were all passing an afternoon together, surrounded by your growing brood of children, when a page was let into the large sitting room. He headed for you as you were closest to the door, pouring yourself a cup of tea from the sideboard near the door. Helaena was sat on a sofa with Aena in her lap and her daughter Jaehaera at her side, showing the older child illustrations of insects from a book; Aena was asleep in her arms, still needing several naps a day. Aegon and Aemond were on the floor rough-housing with Jaehaerys, Maelor, and Maenor.

The page presented a scroll on a silver platter to you, a polite nod of his head with a quiet ‘princess’. You smiled and gave a thanks as you opened the scroll, your smile widening when you saw Daeron’s seal. You unfurled the scroll, your eyes moving left to right as you read the carefully penned words. Your eyes welled up.

Aemond saw you from his spot on the floor, even as he dangled Maenor over his shoulder whilst the little boy screeched with laughter. “What is it, issa jorrāelagon (my love)?”

You looked up at him, joyful tears trickling down your cheeks. “Daeron’s coming home.”

And Aemond’s heart sank.

Chapter 3

@watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek @aemondsdelight @thelittleswanao3 @misspascalpunk

#twisted love #aemond targaryen #reader #aemond x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #helaena targaryen #helaena x reader #helaena targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #daeron targaryen #daeron targaryen x reader

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maidragoste · 1 year ago

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Worry

Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aegon is worried about Jaehaera's future.

This is part of the universe of "The Queen and her husbands" but it can be read independently without having read the series. The only thing you have to know is that Helaena is dead, as are Jaehaerys and Maelor. And Reader is Aegon's second wife.

Aegon and Jaehaera are very important to me so I wanted to write something related to them for a long time. I hope you like it 💖💖

REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated 🥰🥰💖💖

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

You entered the cameras you shared with Aegon and Aemond. You found the king with a glass of what you supposed to be wine and watching through the window like Jaehaera flew with Morghuel while she was followed by her siblings and they dragons. You weren't surprised to see Aegon alone and thoughtful. You knew that the last meeting with the Council was not to his liking. Nor was it from yours.

Aegon turned for a moment when he heard the sound of the door open but his attention soon returned to his daughter.

"Do you think I'm a fool to refuse?" He asked.

During the last meeting, Jaehara's possible nuptials had been discussed. After the last day of his daughter's name, they began to receive proposals for her hand. Now that Jaehaera is sixteen, the court thinks she is ready to marry but Aegon could disagree more. Or maybe he was the one who was not ready to see her leave.

Jaehaera was the last thing he had left of Helaena. Aegon may haven't loved her sister romantically and her marriage may have been unwanted but he loved her just as he loved all of their children. He had to protect Jaehaera as he had been unable to protect Jaehaerys and Maelor. He owed it to Helaena.

If Jaehaera married, she was expected to go live on her husband's lands. If his daughter was away how was he supposed to protect her? He couldn't trust her future husband to take care of her. He couldn't trust anyone. Years ago people whispered about how strange Jaehaera was, how she sometimes seemed immersed in her own world, how she rarely smiled. Now those same people were fighting for his attention so they could marry his daughter, the same girl they didn't want to be around before because of her supposed weirdness.

Aegon wasn't stupid, he knew that they only wanted Jaehaera because they thought the house she married would get more power, they assumed that he would get them more lands and receive more favors from him.

“Of course not,” you responded as you hugged him from behind. You felt your husband's body relax a little. “I would be more worried if you had said yes” you confessed, resting your cheek on his back.

Aegon took one of your hands from around him and kissed it before placing it back on his chest, where your hand was before.

“If Jaehaera gets married, people will expect her to give her husband children. I don't want him to go through the delivery bed. She's too young,” he declared and took a long drink of wine, trying to get the image of her daughter bleeding on the delivery bed out of her head.

He also didn't like thinking about Jaehaera having a baby. She was only sixteen years old—the same age as him when she and Jaehaerys were born—she shouldn't have to worry about raising a child when she was still a child. He wanted to continue watching her grow, he wanted to continue seeing her flying carefree with her siblings, he wanted to see her making flower crowns with her siblings, he wanted her only worries to be taking care of Morghul and taking care of her gardens. Jaehaera didn't need a husband. She was happy as she was.

"I don't want to lose her or for her to end up hurt. I want her to always continue enjoying her freedom."

You frowned as you heard the defeat in your husband's voice. As if he thought that it wouldn't matter what he wanted, Jaehaera would end up getting married and suffering because of it. You couldn't let him continue thinking that so you took the glass out of his hand and then left it on the table and took his face in your hands to get his attention. "Remember that you are the king, love. You have the power. Not the court or the council. No one can force you to get Jaehaera married" you reminded him with determination in your eyes "Don't let yourself be carried away by the pressure. Don't make the same mistakes as your father" you advised him.

Aegon couldn't help but grimace at the mention of Viserys but still valued your words. He was grateful to have you by his side, you always helped him open his eyes and come to his senses. The truth is he wouldn't know what he would do without you. If it weren't for you, it would surely take forever to find the solution to his problems or he would be making mistake after mistake. Taking you as his wife was the best decision he had ever made.

"Please don't mention Viserys again. I can't stand it," he complained and feigned retching exaggeratedly.

"You needed to come to your senses" You defended yourself with a shrug "Desperate situations call for desperate measures" you joked.

Your husband laughed before kissing you. You hummed happily and satisfied that you had gotten him back into a good mood before kissing him back, pulling him closer to you.

At the next meeting with the council, Aegon announced that Jaehaera would not marry anyone unless she wanted, not knowing that his daughter at that very moment was on Dragonstone having a Valyrian wedding. But that's a story for another day.

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celtigxr · 2 months ago

Text

The Pink Dread (Master List) - - - - - ch. ix: Protector

Chapter Summary: Riddled with regret, Aemond searches for Valeana after what had happened in the library.

Word Count: 3843

Sneak Peak: “Nonsense,” He shook his head and extended his hand, “Take my hand, and you’ll be fine.” “But what if I fall–” “You won't,” He gave her a reassuring smile, and flexed his fingers to encourage her to take his hand. “I won’t let you fall, ever.”

Warnings: Active anxiety attack due to ptsd.

T H E G R E E N S

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Aegon never held a strong friendship with his sister, Helaena. They had nothing in common and having a conversation with her felt like navigating a labyrinth. A labyrinth full of riddles that he needed to solve in order to pass through doorways. His love for Helaena only ever extended as much as a brother’s love for his sister could in normal families. He was equally as protective of her as he was annoyed by her.

He would get annoyed at her hyperfixation of insects and other vermin. He would get annoyed when she moved at her own pace, or flat out didn’t listen when being commanded to do something by him or literally anyone else. He’d get annoyed when she didn’t look at him when he talked to her, or derailed the conversation to talk about something unimportant. Most of all it annoyed him how much his mother ran to her and coddled her whenever Helaena was slightly uncomfortable. However, when Helaena was uncomfortable, even by small things by the standards of everyone else, it was like the world was ending.

That was when Aegon’s protectiveness would come through. Helaena’s fits would be explosive, sometimes destructive. It had gotten better as she got older, but that only meant that if something was happening, it was much worse than rearranged furniture, or a stain on her sleeve that she was convinced was an omen of death. From the day they were betrothed, Aegon was forced to spend more time with her (to establish some sort of romantic bond with her. Really, his mother asked for the impossible), and over time he recognized the warning signs and learned through trial and error how to calm her down. These fits had started to become fewer over the years, and eventually the possibility of them being married dwindled with his father’s growing health and dislike of the match. Despite all that time wasted, Aegon was still the first to be summoned to calm his sister when she needed it.

That night, Aegon returned from Flea Bottom from a failed quest to find a new platinum blonde to conquer in his usual preferred whore houses. He was drunk, blue balled, and a bit frustrated when they only offered brunettes that he’s had dozens of times. By the time he reached Maegor’s Holdfast, he was tired beyond belief. He silently cursed his ancestors for making the castle incredibly inconvenient to navigate, particularly for drunkards such as himself.

Aegon rounded the corner, just in time to see her stumbling and groaning in pain, hands grasping at her leg. He quickly sobered and went over to her, hands reaching out to grasp her shoulders. Her eyes were glazed over by thick tears and a fog that reminded him of his sister.

Something happened, something terrible had happened. But a quick glance of her form showed him no physical wounds. She wasn’t bleeding, but her leg seemed to pain her a great deal. Valeana was a disheveled, and the thought that someone raped her had immediately crossed his mind.

“I hate him. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!”

Aemond? Would his brother actually be capable of such a thing?

Fear and doubt flushed out the alcohol from his veins. He wouldn’t get straight answers from her, not when she is in this mind set. Brushing her tears from her face, Aegon concluded that a distressed Valeana Celtigar was almost as bad as a distressed Helaena. Perhaps it was divine intervention that he happened upon her in this state before anyone else.

The apartments he shared with his siblings weren’t that far from there, so he guided her to his quarters. When the guards posted at the doors looked at him curiously, veiled with concern and assumptions on their minds, Aegon gave them a pointed look.

“It is not what it looks like. Something’s happened, but I do not want you to alert a Maester until I figure out what it is. Swear to me your silence?”

The knights bowed their heads, then replied in unison, “I swear it, my Prince.”

With a stiff nod, Aegon helped Valeana enter the apartments and into his private solar. He would not be able to keep her there until dawn, he knew. If people saw her exiting in the morning, the gossip would be like wildfire and before he could even blink, they would be at the altar in front of a Septon, swearing their vows and exchanging cloaks. First, he needed to get her to calm down, then he would summon his sister.

They entered his bedchamber, and he nudged the door closed with his foot to give them privacy. Then, Aegon helped her onto the edge of his bed after he pried her arms from his neck. Her entire body was shaking; her trembling fingers grasped at her leg, as she gasped in pain.

“Let me see,” he bent down, but when he tried to lift her robe and nightgown, she panicked and shrieked. Immediately Aegon lifted his hands and stepped back.

Valeana folded into her body, her forehead nearly touching her knee, and both of her hands grasped at her calf as long groans emitted from deep in her chest. She was starting to gasp for breath, allerting Aegon immediately. Bending down to a knee, he grabbed her hands, forcing his fingers under her grip.

“Valeana, look at me,” He craned his neck down to her knees to try to catch her eyes, “I need you to breathe.” With his free hand, he cupped her cheek and gently forced her to look up so he could anchor her stare to his. Her pupils were completely dilated, like how Helaena’s got when she had lost her grip on reality. Aegon’s grip on her cheek was firm as she tried to pull away from it.

“Eh-eh, it’s just me, Egg. Just silly ol’ Aegon, remember? Darling, I need you to breathe, like this—” He took a deep inhale through his nose and exhaled through his lips.

She blinked at him, which allowed a rogue tear fall over the apple of her cheek down to her dry lips. With shaky shoulders and a constricted throat, Valeana took in an uneven breath. When she exhaled it came out stuttering through pouted lips.

“That’s it, that’s it, now again,” He inhaled the same time as she did, and then exhaled.

They stayed like that, breathing in and out for a few minutes until her body stopped shivering and her shoulders relaxed. Every few moments she would moan or groan from a wound that the prince still could not identify. Through the pain, he would gently encourage her with a soft, “That’s it, Val, keep going.” Eventually, Aegon felt his efforts working when the full weight of her head dropped in his hands, and the muscles in her limbs loosened.

He grinned, tapping his fingers gingerly on her cheeks, “There you go, Crab Cake. You know this isn’t what I had in mind when I imagined you in my bed. The breathing hard part, yes–”

“Shut up, Egg,” her eyes fluttered closed, chest heaving heavily as she continued to level her breathing.

He gave a soft laugh, “There’s my girl.”

Valeana’s eyes gently opened, her mind still in a fog, but if she had to relate it to anything now, it was more like a dense humidity. The kind of humidity that makes every part of you exhausted. Her tongue ran over her dry bottom lip, “I’m sorry. It must be so late.”

Aegon gave a shrug, “I should be thanking you. I’ve never felt more sober.”

From a mixture of exhaustion and delirium, a chuckle shook her shoulders. She brought her hands to her face in an attempt to control her giggles. Aegon, still on his knees before her, remained silent, a small, kind smile upon his face as he watched her. He decided he quite liked her like that – laughing, that is. But then he was reminded of the distress she was in only ten minutes ago, and that smile fell.

“Valeana,” his hand crept onto her right knee, palm facing up in an invitation for her to hold his hand. “What happened?”

She stopped laughing to take in a sharp inhale, the butt of her palms reached up to press firmly in her eyes. When she finally pulled away, she blinked rapidly and looked down at his hand on her knee. Surprising herself, she dropped hers onto her thigh and allowed the tips of her fingers to curl around Aegon’s.

“He pushed me,” the words came out painfully. Her brows furrowed and her lips pursed, “In the library. I just-I just touched his arm and—” a stuttered sigh released through her lips. “It just felt–it just… everything all over again. I thought– fuck, I’m sorry, I cant–” Her hands were back on her face, fingers digging into her skin before combing through her hairline.

“No, no, shh, it is fine,” Aegon took her wrists and pulled them away from her face. “It’s fine…. Are you hurt? Do you need a Maester? What about your leg…” He looked down at the one she was holding earlier.

She shook her head vigorously, “No, no, please… don’t call the Maester. I don’t want my dad to know. He’ll make it worse, please, just… I’m just so tired.”

“Are you sure? You looked like you were in a lot of pain.”

Valeana shook her head again, a little softer this time, “I’m fine, really – it does that sometimes… It feels like something is there, but there isn't.”

“What do you mean?”

There was a clear hesitation. Her eyes didn’t meet his curious gaze, but eventually her hands moved down to the length of her robe as she pulled up the fabric and then her nightgown underneath. Aegon watched intently in slow anticipation, until he realized what he was looking at. There was polished oak wood where her calf and foot should have been and a sophisticated and complex ball joint for an ankle. His eyes roamed higher, where he could see the wood cutting off at the knee, before continuing around her thigh where it was secured by various straps and buckles.

This was beyond surprising for multiple reasons. He had no idea that she had lost her leg – he had clear memories of the Maesters at the time righting it properly, and putting her in a split. Clearly, it wasn’t enough. He didn’t know anything about infections or anatomy, but there had to be a reason for it to be amputated. The other surprising reason was that he had not seen this the other day when he was hiding under her dress. Then again, she was wearing very tall, thick red stockings. Now that he thought about it longer, he did see a strap around her thigh, but he had assumed it was a garter that was holding up her stocking.

Valeana put her skirts back down and wrapped her arms around her legs, “Sometimes I feel things there… But there is nothing, because there is nothing. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Aegon nodded stiffly, eyes still on her left leg, now hidden under the curtains of her robe. Finally he pulled his gaze away and returned it to her, “I’m going to get Helaena.”

T H E P A S T

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“We’re lost, Aemond!”

“We’re not lost, we’re just…” Aemond stopped walking as he craned his neck up to look at the leafy ceiling of the Godswood. “A little off track.”

A simple picnic in the woods had gone amiss when Aemond insisted on going deeper into the thicket, away from the judging eyes of his brother and nephews. They were aware of his friendship with Valeana, but not the extent of how close they were. And while Aemond did not want to give up his companion, he did not want to give his brother more arrows for his quiver.

Aemond also simply wanted a peaceful moment between him and his friend… quite frankly, his only friend if he thought too closely on it. No interruptions, no curious or amused stares by the kingsguard or other adults. Typically they remained around the fringes of the forest, near the Heart Tree, since Valeana wasn’t good with steep hills and long treks. But, he had a plan; there was a clearing near the bubbling brook that would only take them twenty minutes to get to. There was a large weeping mulberry tree that he wanted her to see. Valeana loved the berries, but he also thought a picnic underneath its protective canopy would be the perfect setting for…

And he blushed at the thought.

His first kiss…

Unfortunately, it did not go as planned, and he had no one else but himself to blame. Valeana sat on a rock, breathing heavy, face flushed and hair slightly wet from the sweat building up on her brow and upper lip. He could tell she was self conscious about it, the way she kept on dabbing a handkerchief on her face and looking away from him. Valeana was always hot, always sweating. He remembered she used to wear lighter colours, but her stepsister would scold her for having sweat stains under her pits. Then, Valeana started to wear darker colours, which did not help with the glare of the sun.

Still, he always found her flushed appearance enduring. She looked like a porcelain doll with a red button nose, and peridot gems for eyes.

They conversed, like they usually did. All the while Aemond tried to inch his way closer to her, but always found something in the way. A twig holding his tunic, or a rock prodding his backside. Val was blissfully unaware, too busy gazing up at the natural umbrella of the mulberry tree and the light that peaked through.

Once he managed to worm his way to her side as subtly as possible, he found himself fidgeting with his hands nervously, barely listening to a thing she was saying. Something about how a specific berry looked like a mole on Floris’ back. Aemond turned to her just as she was munching on a particularly large one, with her tongue flicking out and licking up the juices that stained her lips. Subconsciously he mimicked the movement.

“What’s wrong?” She asked when she noticed him zoning out.

He chickened out. Once he realized he was staring, Aemond flushed and moved away from her.

Now they were lost in the Godswood, and they were losing daylight. The bright blue sky was now becoming duller and grey as the clouds gathered for a possible light rain for the evening.

“A little off track?” She repeated his words as she looked down at a steep hill they were expected to climb down. Valeana turned to him, face wholly unamused, “Aemond, my prince, my friend. We are practically in the Vale.”

Aemond couldn’t help but laugh, at both the overstatement and the look on her face. “We are still in the Red Keep, Val. We can walk in any direction, and eventually we will find a castle wall.”

“And what will we do when we find the wall, Aem? Grow wings and fly over it? Will you launch me over it like a scorpion or katapult?”

It was difficult to wipe the smile from his face, but he managed to suppress the chuckle. Instead, he started to scale down the hill, then waved for her to follow, “C’mon, if we go down here, it will save us time…”

When he didn’t feel her presence next to him, he turned sharply to see her looking down the hill with a visible frown and worry in her eyes.

“Aemond, that’s too steep, I’ll … I’ll go around. I’ll meet you there.”

“Nonsense,” He shook his head and extended his hand, “Take my hand, and you’ll be fine.”

“But what if I fall–”

“You won't,” He gave her a reassuring smile, and flexed his fingers to encourage her to take his hand. “I won’t let you fall, ever.”

She looked at him skeptically, “Well, you can’t say ever–”

“Valeana!”

With a huff, she took his hand, “Fine.”

It took time, but the two managed to scale the steep hill with only a few close calls. When they made it to the bottom, Valeana heaved a long sigh of exhaustion and victory.

“See? It was not so bad,” Aemond watched in mild amusement as she bent, hand on her knee – the other still in his – as she tried to catch her breath.

She sent him a withering glare, “Oh, yes, string bean. Piece of pigeon pie.” Valeana straightened up, brushing the wrinkles of her dress – of all the good that’ll do – and looked about where they ended up. She could vaguely see the white spidery branches of the Heart Tree and its blood red leaves in the distance.

“We’re almost there,” he confirmed her speculation, but there is still a great distance, even if they could see their destination from there.

“Uh huh,” her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Now we just need to survive an impending storm, and wolves and bears and hellhounds–”

“Hellhounds?” He snorted, “What do you think we keep in here, Valeana?”

“My imagination is wild,” She replied with a sigh. They started to walk onward, towards the direction of the weirwood tree. “It is especially vivid when I’m afraid.”

Aemond still had her hand in his. With her confession, he gave it a little squeeze, “I’ll protect you, Val. From whatever beasts that lurk around us.”

She raised her eyebrows at him, “And what of the beasts that lurk in my mind? Would you protect me from those as well, Aemond?”

His grip on her hand tightened, “Even those. Especially those.”

T H E G R E E N S

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Another regrettable, regrettable mistake.

But Aemond doesn’t make mistakes. Not anymore. And yet there he was, staring at his hand like it was a foreign appendage; like it had moved on its own accord.

When he entered the library, he was tightly wound up after the bath. It had the complete opposite desired effect, and he blamed his cock for that. He was no better than Aegon in that regard, allowing depraved fantasies to weaken his will of mind. He wagered the celibate Cole didn’t have any words of wisdom for him to keep his loins protected from his own sinful thoughts, did he?

Aemond convinced himself that in the throes of lust, his mind simply grasped at the first faces that came to mind. Much like the dreams of his own mother and step sister he used to have – those, he was sure, meant absolutely nothing. And what happened in the bath was exactly the same. It meant nothing.

Aside from the comfort of his own bedchamber, or on the back of Vhagar amidst clouds and sky, the library was his place of peace. In the dead of night, no one was there, not even the overseeing Maester. However, when he entered and saw that his sanctuary had already been breached by none other than the object of his ire, Aemond bristled like an overstimulated cat.

He didn’t realize how tightly strung up he was until it became hindsight.

The heat of her hand, even through the fabric of his tunic, felt like hot iron. His body reacted impulsively, instinctually, and out of survival, like she was an enemy approaching from behind. Aemond immediately realized his mistake when his hands felt soft skin, familiar to him like a forgotten memory.

He froze, embarrassingly. Standing, staring at his hand as if it was not his, and before he finally registered what he had done, it was too late.

“Valeana–”

Aemond barely saw her in his panicked tunnelled vision. He saw the flurry of her robes and nightgown fall over her knees as she got to her feet, and a glimpse of the furrow on her brow just before she turned away and fled the library. He found himself taking strides toward her, but he stopped midway.

This is for the best, a voice of reason told him. It sounded a lot like Ser Criston. Was this his mind protecting his heart? If it was, then why did it feel like he had stabbed it himself?

He turned back to the book of his ancestors propped on the pedestal, and then back to the door. Remaining here would be easy, and probably the smartest thing he could do. But then came a second voice, more nagging the first, and it came to him in the form of his mother.

She is a lady in distress, Aemond. It is not safe.

He shut his eye and sighed heavily through his flared nose. If Alicent learned of what he had done, and then allowed Valeana to run out of the Library during the hour of the owl, she would whip him herself.

In the end, and as always, his mother won his eternal struggles. With stiff strides, he left the comfort of the library and stepped into the corridor, only to find it void of life. Looking left and right, and then ahead of him, he could hear nor see a living soul. Hedging his bets, he decided to walk ahead, and after a few strides he saw something on the ground: a woman’s red slipper.

Aemond bent to snatch it up and examine it. He didn’t get a good look at her feet when she had pushed herself off the ground, but he doubted many women would leave their footwear behind unless they were running away. At least he knew now that he was on the right track.

His steps became a little faster, though as he continued on for another minute or two, he realized he was getting closer to the apartments. When he reached the grand door that led to the wing he shared with his siblings, he paused to face the two knights guarding it.

“Have you seen the Celtigar girl in these halls?”

The two men exchanged a look, one Aemond immediately caught with suspicion. He gritted his jaw and took a step towards them, “Where is she?”

The knight bit his bottom lip before speaking, “We were told–”

Aemond pushed passed through them into the doors. The vestibule between each private quarters was grand, giving room for a dining table, and a lounge in the balcony that faced the small courtyard. Aegon’s quarters were on the far left, to which he confidently strode to, sweeping through his solar until he got to his brother’s bedchamber door. That is when he stopped himself.

He could hear heavy breathing through the wood, coupled by soft moaning and groaning. Then he heard his damnable brother’s voice:

“That’s it, Val, keep going.”

That was it.

That was when winter claimed Aemond’s heart, and turned his blood into rivers of ice.

Note: I know you're wondering.... "Celt... this looks like an Aegon x ofc in disguise." I promise you it isn't. I am a slow burn novella writer. SIT TIGHT, BESTIES, IT'S GONNA BE A BUMPY RIDE.

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Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

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farity · 2 years ago

Text

Insufferable

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: Aemond realizes his sister’s best friend is being considered for a political marriage

Warnings: Smut

“I can take them back, you know I will be careful with them.”

“Of course, you are one of the few people who loves them as much as I do,” Helaena smiled at you. “I will say good night to the children. Much will change tonight.”

You didn’t exactly love the insects and other small animals she was so fond of, but you were careful and considerate with them. They were important to your friend so you took good care of them in her stead. You carried the small cages back to the shed and began putting them on the shelves as Helaena preferred.

When you turned, you were surprised to see her brother Aemond standing there. “My lady.”

“Prince Aemond,” you curtsied, “the queen has gone to put her children to bed, is there something I can help you with?”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “I hear there is a gathering tomorrow afternoon. Three suitors vying for a certain lady’s hand.” There was an undertone of bitterness to his voice and you wondered at it.

“Yes, it is time for me to marry,” you replied.

“And you will accept any of them?”

You walked to the flower table, where various cut flowers were leftover from that morning’s stroll in the garden. “I will accept whoever father chooses for me.” Because the one man you really wanted for your husband did not seem to know you existed other than to ask you where his sister was.

When he said nothing, you turned. There was anger in his gaze and he took a step toward the table. “You will accept it so easily. Someone else’s choice.”

“Father will make a good choice,” you continued, not really sure where this odd conversation was headed. “He would not choose someone I would despise.”

“Are you sure about that?”

You smiled at the prince, but his expression didn’t change. “Yes. Father wants a good alliance but he also loves me and would not choose someone insufferable, or cruel.”

Aemond scoffed at your words. “So as long as they are not insufferable or cruel, they’re a good match?”

“Prince Aemond, I do wonder at all these questions,” you were beginning to lose your patience. “You must know what political marriages are, I consider myself lucky in that father is in a position to choose from various possibilities. Mmm, this one is lovely,” you held a pale yellow bloom close to your nose, inhaling its delicate scent before it was taken from your hand. “Oh!”

He was holding the yellow flower to his nose now, considering its scent before he put it down.

Truly, he was behaving very oddly.

You picked up another flower, this one a deep magenta, and held it to your nose. “No, don’t like this one.”

Again he took it from you and again he held it to his nose before putting it down. Then he walked around you until he was standing in front of you.

“I have known you for a while, my lady,” he said softly, “and by now, I know what my favorite scent is.” He leaned in until his nose was very close to your cheek.

You held your breath, and he moved until his nose was below your ear. You felt his hands on your hips and he pulled you closer. You let out your breath as he lightly brushed his lips on your neck. He continued traveling down the edge of your neckline until he reached the swell of one breast and again, lightly brushed his lips back and forth over the exposed skin.

“Prince Aemond,” you whispered, “this is most improper.”

He pulled back, looked down at you. “How improper?”

You studied his face, usually so unreadable. “What you are doing is a, uh, a lover’s caress, and,” you swallowed, wondering why you had to explain why his mouth on your breast was inappropriate, “no one has ever, uh, I mean, I have never allowed-”

“Is this a lover’s caress?” He brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin.

Your whisper was almost inaudible. “Yes.”

His hand slid down to your chin, lifting your face to his. “Yet we are not lovers.”

You placed your hands on his chest. Mistake number one.

Looked up at his eye, blue fury bearing down on you. Mistake number two.

Your gaze dropped to his mouth. Mistake number three.

Reaching up, you did something you had dreamed of for years, and wrapped your hand around his hair, bringing his mouth down to yours. You felt him inhale in surprise in that split second before his lips touched yours, and then he brought his hands down to your bottom, pulling you sharply against him.

You felt him raise you to sit on the edge of the table, making space for himself between your thighs. You knew where this was going, you knew if found, you would be ruined, and yet you held on as he fumbled with the laces on his breeches. Your other hand caressed his cheek while he kissed you, the taste of him one you would never forget.

You felt him nudging against you, knew that if you wanted him to stop then you needed to speak up now.

Instead, you curled a leg around his hip and felt him start entering you. He took his time, going slowly before finally snapping his hips, and you gasped against his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “it should not hurt for much longer.”

You knew this, had been told what took place between a man and a woman, and knew what it meant. Instead of shame you felt a surge of joy fill you, for it meant you were his. Even if you married someone else, you would have belonged to him first. You pushed aside the thought of your marriage, curling your other leg around him as he moved within you.

“My lady,” he murmured, kissing your neck as he started moving faster. hips pumping while you held on, “I have wanted you for so long.”

His words puzzled you, but there was something happening, an ache that had blossomed into need low in your belly, and you rocked your hips, seeking more.

“Yes,” Aemond whispered, “just like that.”

Encouraged, you rocked your hips again and felt yourself fluttering around him, something wondrous almost within your grasp. Aemond grabbed one of your legs, raising it higher around his side and the change in angle made you gasp. You were so close, and then everything began to go blurry and you felt the most delightful pleasure you had ever felt in your life. It pulsed through your body, and you almost swooned in his arms. You felt him kiss your temple, and as you were coming down from your incredible high, you felt him reach his own, holding you tightly against him.

It took you both several moments to recover, him gently withdrawing from you as you readjusted your skirts and stepped down from the table.

“I must go,” you said, not wanting to go through some embarrassing and probably awkward farewell conversation.

“You will not marry any of them.”

You looked up at Aemond. “What?”

He began tying the laces on his breeches, then dropped them. “Unless you fall madly in love with one of them, that is,” he smirked, “unless one of them is so not-cruel and not-insufferable you cannot possibly resist their suit.”

“Prince Aemond, I am well aware of what we have just done, as I am well aware that it does not make for any obligation on your part.”

He slapped his hands on either side of you, gripping the edges of the table where he had just had you. “It is not obligation, my lady, that compels me to repeat how long I have wanted you. And not just to have you.”

You waited, the intensity in his eye pinning you in place.

“Do you really think I am not aware of where my sister is at any given time? She has the same routine every single day. I have been remiss, it seems, in making my feelings known, and have let it get this far until it was clear that I was going to lose you, but-”

You grabbed him and kissed him, interrupting him, and he wrapped his arms around you, not letting go for a long time.

Eventually you pulled back. “You truly have left it to the last minute, Prince Aemond.”

“Aemond.”

You smiled. “Aemond.”

He smirked again. “We can send ravens and let the suitors know the gathering tomorrow is cancelled.” He kissed your hand. “If you will have me for your husband.”

Your smile grew, “well, you are very much not-cruel.”

@arryn-nyx @greenowlfactif @hydrationqueensworld @megzdoodle@melsunshine @queenofshinigamis @throughgoeshamilton @travelingmypassion @kaemond-zafiro

#aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #hotd smut

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jaegonsmoon · 2 years ago

Note

Omega pregnant Aegon: *is married to Alpha Aemond and gives birth to a dark haired beautiful baby*

King Viserys: *is oblivious and just happy have more grandchildren*

Rhanyra: *freaking out over being an aunt and grandmother at the same time and also trying to spin this situation in way where this won’t end in war or death*

Aemond, Otto, Alicent and Baela: *absolutely furious and ready to draw blood*

Luke and Rhanea: *not looking and anyone and edging out of the room to avoid any fallout*

Daemon:* smirking and leaning against the doorway with popcorn*

Jace:*sweating bullets and debating on running to the free cities to keep his balls in tact*

Aegon: *ignoring everything and just holding /in love with his new Baby*

THIS IS GOLDEN!!!!!! I love it!

Aemond, who has fucked Aegon probably two to three times out of duty since they wedded. Aemond who has been fucking unbonded omega Lucerys since he presented as one not long after his and Aegon’s wedding. Aemond who, after his and his brother’s coupling, looks the other way and pretends he does not see when Aegon downs moon tea like a cup of the finest westerosi wine. Aemond who is in love with Lucerys and curses his and his own existence every day for the omega not presenting sooner so they could’ve been bonded against all odds instead. Aemond, who knows where Aegon’s heart lies since they were kids: *Fake offended gasp at the babes dark hair*

Lucerys, who forgot to take his moon tea last time and drank it a tad too late, way past the 24 hours cycle, physically sweating: *gulps*

Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena, who have always known what’s stirring inside the pot and have all come to a silent agreement because they’re all young and craving a love of their own, not one forced upon them: *trying to contain their smirks and compostures*

Jacaerys, who has loved Aegon since he learned the meaning of it. Who’s first kiss, first time, first everything he shared with his uncle. Jace who was denied Aegon’s hand when his mother, who knew all along, tried to arrange their marriage. Jace who couldn’t steal Aegon away because Alicent, suspicious of it all, wed him to Aemond privately, before anyone could make a move. Jacaerys whose chest was swelling with pride at the sight of what they made together. Their babe. It was his seed the one to blossom in his womb, it was him the one that put it there, and now were all gonna possibly be beheaded for it, but in truth there was only one person in the room who gave a fuck about it, and no one would listen to her. Jacaerys who couldn’t be more obvious right now if he could help it: Gevie.

Aegon, who had only eyes for Jacaerys his entire life, ever since he had been born, till the moment present where he knew, the moment he became pregnant. He felt it. Aegon who spent his entire pregnancy sneaking out on rides where he and Jace would meet halfway in a small island they had found as an escaped in their early youth. Where they would curl up in between their dragons and talk, kiss, touch and fuck and hold each other for hours. Ageon, whose babe was restless when their sire was away. Aegon who wished this would happen, that his baby would inherit their true sires features for the world to see. For his mother to see. The inevitable, how they were meant to be from the start and no faith and costume of the Mother or The Seven could come between the ways of Old Valyria, of the dragons. Aegon who was in love with what he and his nephew had created out of love and passion, couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful creature in his arms: I would burn the seven kingdoms for you.

And much like with Rhaenyra’s first three children, King Viserys would have the tongues and eyes of whoever dared to speak ill against his grandchild.

And when a couple of months later, unmated omega prince Lucerys gave birth to a beautiful silver haired baby, then what—

#They’re giving poor Alicent an aneurysm #I know Viserys is amused af #everybody knowzz #aemond x lucerys #lucemond #aemond targaryen #lucerys velaryon #aegon ii targaryen #lucerys targaryen #jaegon #jacaerys velaryon #jacegon #aegond

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misguidedasgardian · 2 years ago

Text

A little payback

Jacaerys Velaryon x Milf!Alicent HIghtower

NSFW

Warnings: Dub-con (Alicent is unsure and a little drunk), Jace is 19 in this, this is nasty NASTY I SAID, Alicent is such a MILF, smut, fingering, dirty talking, humilliation, might miss some warnings

Jacaerys couldn't let it slide, not anymore

It had been years and years of humiliations, mockings, despective looks, whispered insults towards him and his brothers, it had been too much

He thought that coming back to King's Landing was going to be different, he had grown up, he was a man now, but as soon as he took a step out of the carriage, and there was no one there to receive them, he knew that nothing had changed, not a single things

People still looked at him and whispered Strong

His uncle had mocked him in front of his entire family, for fun, to rub in his face how flimsy his claim to the throne was.

He had had enough

If Aemond Targaryen thought he could humiliate him, he was going to humiliate him right back, hit it where it hurts the most. And what hurt the most was...

His dear mother

Alicent treatment of his mother Rhaenyra always bothered Jace, she had denied him of marrying Helaena, and she was constantly trying to pin the King against them.

She believed herself so high and mighty with her worshipping the seven, and being so pious, acting as Queen regent, deciding the succession of Driftmark

But he knew

When Aemond left the room angry after he punched him in the face, the Queen had come to him, she placed her small hand in his arm and looked at him sympathetically

"I'm very sorry Jace", she whispered, "I shall talk to Aemond", she assured him, and then she squeezed his thick arm, his muscled arm, of years of training with the sword.

He could see the Queen's pupils enlarging as her fingers traced the shape of his arm, and then she released him. It was one of Jace's most intimate secrets, that when he started the need to touch himself as a young man, Alicent is the one he thought about when self pleasing... but nobody knew that, that was in the darkest corners of his mind. Until tonight

He loved his grandfather, but he couldn't imagine what that poor woman had been going trough, nobody to keep her company at night...

It was perfect really...

So when the castle slept, he used the secret passageways from his rooms, and followed them to the Royal chambers.

He was no longer a boy, he was a man, the pleasure house in Dragonstone and every worker in it could bauch for it, he thought with a smile, as he felt his cock enlarging in his trousers as he walked towards the room he knew perfectly were it was

A few taps and he managed to know how to open it, and just like that he sneaked into the Queen's chambers, she found her seated in the bed, her sleep had always been light

"Jacaerys?", asked Alicent, recognizing him immediately, covering her flimsy nightdress with the pristine white sheets, "what are you doing here?"

"There is something I wanted to talk with you"

"This is improper", she whined, "Leave, or I will scream", she warned, and he only smirked

"I'll make you scream", he warned

"What are you doing here?", she repeated the question, as he neared the bed, but he wasn't interested in telling her, he wanted to show her, so when she was going to open her mouth to scream as promised, he quickly placed his big hand over her mouth

"I'm not going to hurt you", he said gently, his soft demeanor and voice make Alicent believe he was telling the truth, "I just want something from you, and for you"

Alicent barely nodded, and he retrieved his hand

"Jace, you need to leave", she whined, with her big eyes opened in surprise, Jace thought she always looked like she was about to cry, he was going to give her a reason to cry... of pleasure

"Not before I give something to you", he said.

Alicent had drank a cup or two... or five, of wine, and those cups made her think that this was a dream, that Jace couldn't possibly be standing by her bed, leaning into her, and his eyes... they were just like Rhaenyra's

"What do you want to give to me at this late hour?", she asked innocently, and Jace smirked. As was going to say something else, Jace took the opportunity to lean in and trap her lips with his, he didn't want to hear anything coming from her mouth but screams of pleasure.

He smiled against her mouth when he felt her answering to the kiss, so he took the oportunity to climb on the bed and straddle her smaller form underneath him

"Jacaerys1", she said loudly as she released herself from his kiss, but it was too late, he was in her bed.

"You must be so lonely", he said, his hand went to her neck, to grab it gently but teasingly, letting her know that he was the one in control

"You need to leave", she whined

"I need to fuck you, that is what I need", he said huskily, and he was so amazed that he was getting away with this

Alicent was going to struck him, but he catch her wrist easily, and entrapped it with one of his hands and her other wrist.

"I think you are so bitchy all the time because you had never gotten a good fuck", he said roughly, making her wince, "but I'm here"

"I'm going to tell your mother...", she warned

"Please do", he mocked, and he pounced at her again, trapping her mouth into his, and this time, Alicent had convinced herself that this was a dream, and she better enjoy it, she could ask for the God's forgiveness in the morning

"You are so fucking hot", whine Jace as he left her mouth and descended down to nibble at her jaw, "you deserve to be fucked rough", he said, reaching her neck, a sucking on her pulse joint, making her draw the first of many moans.

It was a quiet one, almost a whisper, but Jace's cock twitches in his linen pants and Alicent whimpered when she felt it in her belly

"Jacaerys, this is wrong", she pleaded, already lost in her touches

"I know", he said back, with the hand that was not grabbing the Queen's wrists, he pushed her down, back into the matress, her beautiful hair displayed all over the white pillow

Only a couple of kisses and nibbles and he had her panting underneath him, so needy, so horny, Jace chuckled darkly, and let her know

"So needy for a good fuck are you?", she even nodded slightly, "I'm going to give that to you"

He ripped her night shirt off of her, releasing her gorgeous body to his eyes.

The tight dresses she wore left little to the imagination, but Jace could have never foresee that Allcent's body was one of the sexiest he had ever seen... so curvy, full breasts, soft skin. His mouth watered at the sight, he grabbed her generous, soft thighs and parted them, revealing to him her pussy.

He smirked when he saw how wet she was, all for him.

It was true, her pious, devote self was just a front, behind it, she had needs like everybody else.

He grabbed her by the hips, and one of his hands didn't take to long to reach her pussy. Alicent whined, one of her hand grabbed his wrist, but didn't attempt to remove him, as he explored her folds teasingly, barely touching with the tip of his fingers, he wanted to know if she wanted this as much as he did.

When she moved the hips searching for his touch, he chuckled darkly

"I fucking knew it", he sank two fingers inside her wet cunt, and she moaned loudly when she felt them intruding inside of her

"Jacaerys!", she complained, but he made her shut up when he bend his fingers. Alicent's hands were restless, so they went to her own breasts, she squeezed them tightly, needing something to hold on to.

He kept fingering her, searching inside of her for that weak spot he learned was inside every woman, and when he found it, when her cunt squeezed his fingers and she drew a high pitch moan, he exploit it, concentrating all his movements in that area, twitching his fingers, rubbing that spot, and that is all it took to have Alicent Hightower twisting and moaning like a common whore underneath him

He drew a orgasm from her before he released her to get rid of his own clothes.

Now naked before her panting form, Jace pounced on top on her, her mouth taking one of her nipples, his other hand started torturing the other, and his free hand went again to finger her soaked pussy.

"Jace, please", she moaned,

"What?", he teased, you want my cock?"

Jace separated himself from her and she looked down and gasped

He was big, long and thick, veiny. Jace smiled wickedly, he knew his cock was massive, he took pride in it.

He took his fingers off of her, licking them clean of her arousal

"Jace", she called

"Shut it, Criston is probably hearing how you are moaning like a whore", she whined when she realised this, but she stopped caring at once when Jace took his cock to her entrance, taunting her, rubbing her clit with the tip.

The mocking didn't last long, not because he didn't want to tease her, but because he needed to fuck her so much, so he left it anchored in her entrance, then he grabbed her hips, and entered her slowly, but relentlesly

"Fuck!"

"Ah!", Alicent moaned loudly when he finally entered her, her walls squeezed him so tightly, like a fist, Jace cursed and took all of his strength not to come right there. He took some soft thrusts, testing the waters, and her cunt, even though was tight as a fist, received him whole. And that was all Jace needed.

He took himself out, and Alicent whined in complaint

"Be patient", he warned, he grabbed her roughly, threw her on the other side of the bed, face down in the mattress.

Jace marveled at the sight of her ass, and he came out with a dark idea.

He grabbed her by the hips and raised them until she folded her legs underneath her, her soaked pussy and ass in display for him

"We can't forget thegol of all of this, can't we?", he said teasingly, he grabbed his cock and rubbed it againsst her slippery folds, making her whine

"What is it?", she managed to ask, truly concerned

"This is a punishment", he said, Alicent looked at him over her shoulder, wide-eyed, "you had been so bitchy with my mother and brothers, you deserve to be punished", he said, and she whimpered, wanting to get out of his grasp, but it was too late, he impaled her on his massive cock, and she moaned like a whore in the street of silk.

Jace chuckled as he grabbed Alicent's ass roughly, this was her punishment, his right hand separated itself from her soft flesh, only to descend again in a cruel slap, that had Alicent crying out in pain but more so in pleasure

"Jacaerys!", she whined

"Yes, say my name", he groaned with greeted teeth, and he slapped her again, hard, starting to leave a red handprint on her perfect ass

He was buried to the hilt within her, but soon he felt the need to move, he kept slapping her, but more sloppily since he also started thrusting in and out of her.

Soon he couldn't focus anymore, her pussy felt so good and it was so tight, he only grabbed her, her hips, hoping they will bruise, and he started fucking her roughly, her ass slapping against his groin, her moans louder and louder each time, as she didn't even wanted to hide them in the mattress anymore.

"Tell me how good it feels", he demanded, slapping her again, her skin jiggled underneath his palm, and he moaned wantonly, wanting to be buried inside of her forever

"So- mmm so good", she moaned, moving on her own according, impaling herself on Jace, he even stopped moving, so she could fuck herself on his massive cock

"Fuck, you are just a little whore aren't you?", he mocked, watching her round ass bouncing on him

"Yes!", she admitted, taking her own pleasure for herself, "I am, please!", she begged, and that is all it took for Jace to grab her again and thrust so hard into her the moved moved underneath them, "I'm going to come Jacaerys", she moaned

And who was Jace to deprive her of that?

So he fucked her even rougher

The bed threaten to brake underneath them, Jace grabbed a fistful of hair of Alicent and made her face resurface from the sheets, his other hand went to one of her breasts, grabbing it, squeezing it

"Jace, oh, yes, fuck, please!", she screamed bloody murder when she came on jace's cock, making a mess of it, her arousal dripping down into the shits underneath

"Fuck, that's it", he growled, feeling her cunt squeezing him for all he was worth

He didn't last much longer, he threw her cruely back to the bed, he grabbed her hips and thrusted hard into her.

And he cummed deep in her womb

They both fell into the bed, he on top of her, both panting, recuperating their breaths, Jace still inside of her

"Oh, what did we do?", she whined, covering her face, thinking about the repercussions of what they had done

"You mean, what are we doing?", he said darkly, and she winced when she felt his cock twitch inside of her, "this isn't over" he threatened, grabbing her by the back of her neck, "there are years of crap you need to make up for"

More notes: alright, I'm going to check myself in because clearly I need professional help

I dind't check this before I pubished it, I'm so horny and tired... anyways... I want mIlf Alicent and horny Jace

#alicent hightower #alicent #the greens #the blacks #misguidedoneshot #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys #hbo house of the dragon #house targaryen #house hightower #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon #alicent x jace #alicent x jacaerys #alicent hightower x jacaerys velaryon #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x alicent

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darkestspring · 2 years ago

Note

When Rheanyra proposes a betrothal between Jace and Helaena, what if she also proposed a betrothal between Jaces twin and Aegon.

Viserys tells Alicent she can only deny one of the betrothals so she agrees to marry Aegon and Jaces twin.

Years later, Jaces twin stays in Kings Landing, aegon is still a lecherous drunk, but he has no need for whores or servants when he has his own dark haired beauty he can fuck anytime and anywhere.

No one speaks up about the bruises and bite marks that litter her exposed flesh, God only know what the flesh under her dress look like.

She constantly pregnant, Aegon doesn't even wait until she is fully healed before he's fucking her again and if he can't fuck her cunt then he fucks her mouth.

When Rheanyra and her children come back, Jaces twin is so excited to see them but Aegon doesn't leave her alone, still trying to hike up her skirt even in front of her mother and brother.

“You can only refuse one.” Viserys had told her, a stern look in his eyes as he stood in support of his eldest daughter, once again.

Alicent had chosen you. Rhaenyra’s only daughter. Her sweet, brave and kind daughter who’s heart was bigger than anything else in the world. Jace had protested against it. His beloved sister? Why could she not marry him? Even dragonless Aemond was better than Aegon!

But it had happened regardless of any protests, Aegon was severely pleased about it. His own sweet little wife to fuck.

Aegon had remained a drunk, often indulging in the wine that he loved, much to Alicent’s disapproval. You often hid away with Helaena to avoid your drunk husband but it never worked. He always found you.

“My sweet wife.” He whispered to you, fucking into you harder as you gripped onto the pillow underneath you. You were already bruised and bleeding from how tightly he held you and how hard he bit down on you to show his wonership of you.

“I’ll never let you go.” He swore as he gripped your dark hair. “My sweet dark haired bride.”

It wasn’t a surprise that after a few months of marriage, you had swollen with his child. Alicent had been overjoyed, keeping you company as much as possible. As did Helaena, Aemond and Daeron. No matter how much Daeron and Aemond had hated your brothers, they felt bad for you.

But that didn’t stop Aegon from fucking you through your pregnancy up until it became a risk to the baby, and then he switched to fucking your tits and your mouth. He refused to fuck servants and whores, he had you after all.

You had just had your fifth child when your family came to visit, you had been excited, happy despite the fact that Aegon refused to let you go without his morning fuck.

nothing could ruin this.

“My love, please.” You whispered to Aegon as his hands held onto your hips steadily as he lifted your skirts, “We must go to dinner.”

“Later.” He hoarsely whispered into your ear, his hand going up further. “You spent all day with your strong brothers, show me affection too. I am your husband.”

You knew he would not let this go. He never did. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Yes.... my husband.” You whispered, eyes directed towards the ceiling in resignation.

#yandere hotd #yandere aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #jaces twin reader

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iris-sistibly · 4 months ago

Text

The Targ Talk: House of the Dragon S2

Episode 4 commentary

HOLY SHIT, that's all I've been saying all throughout this episode.

I just find it amusing at how the greens keep calling Rhaenyra a "whore of dragonstone" when their righteous queen dowager not only fucks her shitty guard dog, but also gets rid of the product of her own indulgence. And please don't be pulling that "Oh but she's a victim in all this, she's innocent blah, blah, blah." Honey, no...she knows exactly what she's doing so that argument doesn't apply in this scene. I also find it cringey at how some people find the affair between Crispy and Alicent romantic like...????

Hail Aegon, the useless, lame, and stupid Targaryen. I do love Tom Glynn-Carney but this is the dumbest Aegon has ever been. I swear to the gods I was laughing the whole time when Aemond read him to filth in High Valyrian, and he only realized that no one takes him seriously as king now? Even his own mother admits that he's not half of the king Viserys was, and him [finally] realizing that he's nothing without Otto is fucking priceless (as much as I hate that old bitch, he did the job). Speaking of which, when Alicent told Aegon about the "sacrifices that has been made" to put him to the throne tells me that she knew exactly what she was doing, I don't accept and will never accept that bullshit that she misunderstood what Viserys said.

Aegon going to that war with him not having the skills and tactics Aemond has is bold of him, but crazy in a really stupid way. I've said it a couple of times at how pathetic he was, but this is next level. Rhaenys would have effortlessly shredded him and his dragon into pieces if it weren't for Aemond and Vhagar, although I feel bad for Sunfyre because this beautiful boy do not deserve it.

I knew Rhaenys was gonna die, but watching it unfold breaks my heart. She knew it was impossible to fight Vhagar on her own, but she fought like a true dragon rider. I'm gonna miss seeing Eve Best in the show, but her performance as Rhaenys Targaryen will always be iconic.

Daemon still being haunted by the young Rhaenyra, questioning his true intentions, his mirrored path with Aemond, his dead ex-wife appearing before him, perhaps a reflection of his guilt for moving on so quickly and not even processing his grief before marrying Rhaenyra. Alys Rivers taunting him about his wife--damn, that castle is fucking his mind. I also sense that Alys was trying to seduce Daemon which I don't think ever happened in the book (Alys and Aemond did have a thing though) but maybe it's just me. But also felt like [hopefully] it will push him to get his shit together, and fight for his wife's cause.

Aemond obviously hates his brother for not only tormenting him since childhood, but also having everything he does not deserve. He's smart, skilled, and a damn good warrior. It shows, he shoved it right to Aegon's face that he would make a better king than him. We all know Aegon is not gonna die...yet, but he would be performing his duties and responsibilities as Prince Regent, and possibly...an affair with Helaena? The latter never happened in the book but what if?

I actually thought that Rhaenyra was gonna confess to Jace that his real dad is Crispy Cole hahahahaha!

I dread the upcoming episodes.

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emmaofnormandy · 5 months ago

Text

The Dragon and the Rose.

• In this universe, Lady Kathryn Howard crosses path with King Aegon II. The result of it may be more surprising than what onlookers have judged at first…

Long post; fluffy.

"You need a wife", the Dowager Queen of Westeros tells his son. "As a king, specially given the current circumnstances, you need to produce an heir. Such a deed cannot be done by yourself, as you must know.”

Aegon rolls his eyes at his mother’s words. Despite his reluctance to get himself crowned as the overlord of the seven kingdoms, here he is now, urged to get married. And he cannot take his sister as his wife as former Targaryens did because she simply eloped with Aemond.

Not that I needed her anyway.

Besides, Aegon believes he can have any woman he desires. Why marrying one alone? When he makes this point to his mother, Queen Alicent takes a very deep breath as if she is beseeching her patience in Heaven before saying:

“We need allies, you fool. And a legitimate heir.” She says between gritted teeth. “If you are not looking for one, I will. Should I explain the basics to you? If you don’t have legitimate heirs, Rhaenyra’s sons will rule after you. Is that what you want?”

That has her son’s attention. Good. Alicent softens and smiles.

“You can choose any noblewoman you like as long as it’s a highborn damsel appropriate for the rule of a consort.”

“Very well”, Aegon sighs. “I will do my best, my lady mother.”

Yet, where should he begin? Perhaps Aegon should ask the aid of his siblings for that task. As he summons Aemond back to court, Aegon does not need a very long time to tell the reason why he needs his younger brother’s help.

“Ah right. A wife, a queen. I’ll pity the woman who might get all the praises but your attention when she sits in the place once occupied by our mother.”

“If I needed your disdain, Aemond, believe me… I would rather you to stay with Helaena wherever the fuck you have been.”

“Watch your tongue, Your Grace”, Aemond smirks. “Very well. I’ve been traveling for a while and if no Westerosi ladies get your attention, I can give you other suggestions.”

Aegon’s eyebrows are epically raised.

“Oh?”

And so he is told of England and its own noble houses, one of which has been friendly towards Aemond and Helaena in their journey to the west: the Howards.

***

Katherine never before felt so uncomfortable as when she was at the court of King Henry. Specially when she’s getting his unwelcome flatteries.

King he is, but he could be my father. Worse, he is not handsome at all. Why cannot he be content with his wife? Poor lady Anne does not deserve this treatment.

However, her uncle seems pleased with the idea of rising high in the court sphere once again. Whilst Thomas Howard contemplates a form to separate the king from his wife by joining him to his niece, his brother, Edmund Howard, is not sharing his enthusiasm.

In fact, without Katherine’s knowledge, her father has been entertaining other ideas. Having received Lord Aemond and his wife, lady Helaena, there had been conversations concerning a possible betrothal to Aegon Targaryen and his daughter. Eventually, though, Edmund becomes anxious to remove Katherine out of court.

“What?”, Katherine is talking with her first cousin, the countess of Richmond. “What are you talking about? Why would my father ask me to leave? You are lying.”

Lady Mary Howard sighs.

“Just read this envelope here. I’m sure you can read, can you not, cousin?”

Katherine blushes at the sharp tongue of the other woman, but takes the letter and opens it without giving an answer. As she reads the content, she is partly relieved for leaving—she��d been feeling like a fox about to become the prey of a dangerous predator with no chance to escape. On the other hand, she is somewhat preoccupied about how this will be handled.

“How familiar are you with this plan, cousin?”, inquires Katheryn, suspicious about the veracity of it.

Lady Mary shrugs her shoulders in a nonchalant posture, although her eyes give an otherwise meaning.

“Familiar enough to help you escape the hands of the tyrant. I am helping you because I’ve been there too, although he ensured to deprive me of the presence of my beloved”, she explains in between gritted teeth.

Lady Mary was referring to the days she’d been married to Henry FitzRoy, King Henry’s favoured son, albeit illegitimate. But due to the monarch’s paranoia, they never made to consummate their love for each other and what happened next was her widowhood.

Katheryn understands well her sentiments and appreciates that amongst her family members there was at least one relative she could trust. The relief is evident in her features which softens her cousin’s pride mask.

“You deserve better, cousin.”

And so the new journey to Katheryn Howard’s life begins.

***

As the feast begins, Aegon is nowhere to be found, much to his mother’s dismay. The unpleasant task to find him falls upon Ser Criston Cole’s dutifulness since Aemond has been too busy with his wife to remind Aegon of his regal duties.

“Bring him to us as soon as possible. We have been told the lady is arriving anytime now. Aegon must be here to receive her”, so the dowager queen points out as-a-matter-of-fact.

It takes little time for Ser Criston to find the king. He is in his bed, taking his time to let the hangover state out of himself.

“Your Grace”, says the knight. “Do you intend to spend the rest of the day in your bed whilst the Seven Kingdoms await your good will in ensuring its rule goes as expected?”

Aegon sighs heavily. His hair is a mess, his eyes are only half open, in a state that only irritates the knight. But before the king is lectured about his misconduct, Aegon decides to take leave of his bed.

“You may spare your breath”, says the silver haired prince. “I am doing what is expected of me today.”

Ser Criston raises an eyebrow all the whilst folding his arms, in a posture that clearly disbelieves the other’s words.

“I mean it. I am perfectly aware that very few have some faith in me”, he says grudgingly.

As if to prove him right of surprising everyone, Aegon cleans himself and dresses in his mother’s colors. Although unwillingly, he knows there is a role to play. And this is the day he ought to do things in a different way.

The moment he arrives to the grand hall is the same moment where his soon to be wife arrives too. His mother, Dowager Queen Alicent, is relieved and ensuring nothing goes wrong.

But when the doors open, destiny plays the card that will change everything.

***

It is a beautiful court, so Katheryn judges as her eyes capture the shades of dark green that somehow mixes with red and black, although it could be more colorful.

She is very impressed, though. The Red Keep is all about grandiosity, reinforced by the regality in the decoration, joined by the beautiful landscape that has been running through her eyes during her journey from London.

But nothing impacted her more than seeing the shadow of grand beasts, flying across the skies and howling through the air. Katheryn once read about them… Dragons, that’s what they were named. They were the symbol of the Tudor dynasty, the same one her beloved uncle sought to marry her into.

The prestige is not worth it, I know it in me.

Nevertheless, she wanted a good marriage for herself, being the noble lady she is. So her father sent her to be the wife of another king, whom he assured to be more gentle and closer to her in age than Henry Tudor.

Now that she is walking into the Red Keep surrounded by her retinue and her eyes are glued upon the regal figure that stands tall, Katheryn finds herself amazed.

As Aegon slowly comes to greet her, both seem to be oblivious to the anxious parts that seem to be eager to join them in sacred ceremony. They too ignore the pair of eyes that follow them curiously.

They only seem to notice each other. Whilst Katheryn is, admittedly, baffled by his Valyrian features, so is Aegon by her English inheritance. Never before had he met dark, astonishing and deep eyes staring so intently into his lilac ones.

“My lady Howard”, Aegon is the one who breaks the ice by greeting her with a proper bow. “Welcome to King’s Landing. I pray your journey has not been uncomfortable for your ladyship.”

A weak blush paints her pale cheeks as she curtseys in return.

“Your Majesty, I appreciate the kindness you display towards me. Indeed the journey has been good, thank you.”

“That is fantastic to hear”, says Aegon, unable to refrain his growing smile. Then gallantly he extends his hand to her and Katheryn promptly takes it.

It is as if the world breathes in relief when the Westerosi king is delighted at his foreigner queen-to-be. To some as the former queen of the realm, though, there is still much to wait for the unpredictable Aegon.

But even the lady Alicent is forced to admit that prospectives are positive so far.

“What are your impressions of this land you’ve set foot? In all honesty, I’ve never encountered a foreigner lady like yourself before”, says the charmed king.

Kathryn smiles, pleasantly blushed to get his attention. Indeed, Aegon’s handsomeness, gallantries and youth count positive for this alliance favoured by her father against her uncle’s ambitions in rising another of his family to occupy King Henry’s vacant side.

Even before these impressions, Kathryn is no fool. She spent enough time at the court of the old king to know that appearances can be misleading—and deadly.

This conversation is the start of something new for both parts involved… and more so when considering a new world beyond the seven kingdoms of Westeros.

For King Aegon, however, this marriage is politically fruitful: not sooner and his reign will be acknowledged before his fellow kings out of Westeros.

Yet… when looking at Lady Katherine, these dark eyes and darker hair make him forget of the true purpose of this union. Each time she smiles, Aegon realizes that maybe now… he wants more than casual flings.

***

As controversial as the wheel of fortune might be, Lady Katherine occupies the higher ground without fearing for her life. Henry Tudor is no more the reasons of her concern nor disgusts, the mere thought of him is now turned to dust.

She is queen herself… of a distant realm, where she has a husband to please and duties to attend without the fear of reprehension of her uncle Thomas Howard, even though Aegon’s grandsire, Otto Hightower, has the same likes—somewhat irksome to her.

What does it matter? I am the queen now.

In these festivities, Kathryn enjoys the attentions of her handsome husband, with whom she comes to discover there is so much they share in common.

“As soon as we can, I’ll take you to a ride. Have you ever been to a dragon’s back before?”

“I do not think husband”, she says, savouring the taste this new word brings, with a gentle smirk, “that I have ever even seen one.”

It is inconceivable to Aegon that there is a world out there where dragons are not part of it. Thus as his wife tells him about her origins, all she’d known about these flying creatures are stories, legends, myths, his bafflement only increases.

“I shall bring you to Sunfyre by tomorrow dawn”, he vows to her, very serious in keeping his promise when locking their hands tied.

In this crowded room, every sound dies before this new level of intimacy just recently disclosed. When Aegon looks at Kathryn, she knows he sees her for who she is.

Not just her beauty. But who she really is underneath all of this pomp she likes to exhibit in a form to conceal her sensibility and all of her dreams that her family despised and she had no other choice but to hide.

One gaze is enough. No more words are enough. Silence already speaks for itself.

“You fancy her”, observes Lord Aemond when he occupies the vacant place left by Lady Kathryn. By his brother’s side, their eyes follow the brunette’s moves, captured by the vivacity in her gracious steps as she dances.

“Could it be otherwise?”

“When mother at first suggested you to wed Helaena, you despised her.”

“Suggested?”, Aegon snorts at his younger brother. “That is kind of you. Well, Laena and I never saw eye to eye, which worked out for you just fine if I recall well.”

Aemond gives the eldest of the two a smirk.

“Indeed, though what I wanted to say is that you can be…”

“Imprudent?”

“I’d prefer to say careless”, says he. “Whereas the lady Kathryn is a blossom rose.”

Aegon’s eyes go to the woman the High Sparrow crowned, the brunette of a foreigner land he espoused. So much joy in her figure, the gentleness evident in her countenance, reinforcing a beauty that brings her the attention.

“I am not a man who shares”, says the king, subtly, giving more in these words than his pride would bend to admit.

Aemond takes the glass to his lips, pleased for the result of his match.

“I know how well you like to keep your prizes to yourself.”

And nothing further has been discussed about it.

***

“Lady, today you will experiment few out of our family has ever had”, so boasts Aegon, proudly. He likes the eyes of his wife on him, carrying a new genuine admiration he’s never found on the eyes of another.

“And what is that, husband?”, she asks, excited and intrigued.

They are out of the Red Keep this day. Though it’s not cloudy, it’s a little windy, but perfect condition to fly. Kathryn is frightened, though she struggles to conceal it, before the sight of large beasts that howl through the air and are not mythological.

“I appreciate your efforts in playing the brave, my dear”, Aegon smiles at her, bringing her closer to him. “But no need to fear. Come, let us make these new memories together.”

Kathryn is thus taken to Sunfyre, whose large yellow wings and its golden eyes impact the new queen. She blinks a few times, frozen before this encounter, but does not shy away of it.

As Sunfyre bows to her, she smiles gracefully, taking the hand Aegon extends her. The next thing she knows is adventurously wordless.

“I’ve never taken anyone to fly so high”, he whispers in her ear, pleased to see her blushing as his arms snake around her waist. “Do you want to command Sunfyre? Go on. I know you can do it.”

Kathryn gazes at her husband with a mix of surprise and atonement. Never before she was consulted in anything of the kind; her views and tastes were often disregarded as a matter of little importance.

Underneath titles two lost souls are found in a surprising alliance that is turning positively healing for both parts.

The moment she smiles, Aegon knows there is chance for redemption…. And he’s prompted to take it.

***

• Epilogue.

According to the unofficial and unnamed chronicler of Aegon’s court, the king and the queen had a very successful marriage. This gleeful union, which seems to have cast a shadow over the king’s questionable past by designing a better future, has resulted in the following children:

1. Jaehaerys, Prince of Dragonstone.

2. Elysbeth, Princess of Dragonstone, who married her oldest brother, following the Targaryen tradition.

3. Eddmund, named after the queen’s father, chose to become a Maester.

4. Alysanne, Princess of Dorne.

5. A stillborn child.

6. Daeron, who took the oath of becoming part of the King’s Guard.

7. Aemon, his twin brother, who, in due time, moved to Dragonstone and there resided with Lady Rhaella Targaryen, a cousin.

8. Laena Targaryen, who became Lady of High Garden.

It’s said that the Queen suffered with poor health after giving birth to Lady Laena. However, she managed to have a long and happy life by Aegon’s side. So then peace reigned…

#tudor dynasty #House of the Dragon #Katheryn Howard #Queen Katheryn #Katherine Howard x Aegon Targaryen #Katheryn Howard x Aegon Targaryen #Aegon II #Aegon II Targaryen #fire and blood vol 1 #team green #alternative universe #crossover #the Tudors #house targaryen #aegon ii fanfic

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written-in-flowers · 2 years ago

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Hiii. Do you think you could write something with Aemond x a disabled/chronically ill reader? Like maybe she struggles with walking and holding things/dexterity and is just sick very often. As a disabled person I’m often pretty drawn to disabled characters like Aemond but there’s like never any disabled reader fics for them 🧡 (Also I’ve sent this request to multiple people I hope you don’t mind and I can’t remember if I’ve already sent this to you so sorry if it did)

More Than That

It did not bother him at all when they told him you came with "complications". He had one himself and it irked him when his mother commented that House Lowe did not detail these "complications". Aemond had a duty to his family and his house, and he was nothing if not a good son. So, when he saw your long weirwood crutches on your wrists and the difficulty of your walk to him, he understood why you’d gone through so many suitors.

The "complication" was clear as day. You suffered from a spinal condition you've had since birth, which severely impacted your lower extremities, mainly your legs and knees You walked relatively well on your own, though it became more obvious that walking long distances pained you greatly. On your first meeting, he could tell by the clenched jaw and determination in your eyes, you tried not showing your "weakness". He could tell by your shifting eyes how aware you became of people around you. Some stared in pity and others in disgust. He knew how you felt. People often did the same to him, even though he tried hiding it.

As expected, his family held a feast for yours. Your father and his mother talked about dates and doweries while you both sat nearby. It was awkward, he won’t lie, but not because he was next to “Y/N The Broken”. It was mostly because he wasn’t much of a talker, yet he’d have to speak to you eventually. He saw how your eyes watched the dancers on the floor, seeing them move gracefully in unison to the music.

“Everyone looks so lovely here,” he heard you say. “In the North, we usually wear leather or wool, so our clothes aren’t so ornamental or colorful. But, everyone here is always shining and pretty. Is it like this all the time?”

“Not so much. It’s mostly because it’s a feast, so people enjoy showing off.” He couldn’t help looking over your soft features. You looked just as lovely, the loveliest. A daughter of The North, you stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of bright gowns and golden jewels. “If you ever wished...I could, um, have someone...fashion gowns...” it sounded so stupid, but what else could he say? He didn’t want you thinking he did not like you or was disappointed. He was the opposite. “For you?”

“Oh,” you were a bit stunned by this offer. “Um, yes, that’d be...that’d be nice.”

“You’re going to be a princess soon,” he said, “You should look like one.”

“Ha,” you huffed.

“What? You’d be marrying me, and I’m a prince.”

“I don’t look like a princess.” He noticed you eyeing his sister, Helaena, who danced with her nephew, Jacaerys.

“Who said this?”

“People.”

“What people?”

“Just...people...I see how they look at me when I walk down the corridors. They pity me. They think I’m helpless and useless. My own family even says so. My uncle asked my father how could he possibly offer me to the King when he has other daughters much more fitting for a prince. He said it’s an insult to The Crown.”

“From what I understand, your sisters are already betrothed to other lords,” he said. “Your father would be insulting them by dissolving those pacts in favor of me. I’m sure he’s more concerned with keeping his bannermen and lords content over a King thousands of miles away.” He then said, “Do you believe any of the women here would want to marry me? Some of them would rather take Aegon than me.”

“Why? You’re still a prince and...handsome...” you looked away, embarrassed by your own compliment.

“Because of this.”

Aemond removed his eyepatch to show the sparkling sapphire underneath. The deep, thick scar broke through his pale skin from brow to cheek, with another ring around the brim of his eye. The moment he did, people instantly started staring at him instead. He’d trained himself not to give them notice or pay them any mind. When he looked over at you, he saw your wide eyes and parted lips.

“I’ve heard the things people say about me. They speak about how my eye will work against me in sword fights; they say I’ll always have trouble being the same as everyone else, and how ugly my scar is. Noblewomen who are presented to me look away from it or refuse to marry me because they’re marrying a man who isn’t...” Whole. Complete. He sometimes wondered what his life might be like if he’d never lost his eye. “What I mean to say is, that I understand how you feel.”

“You’ll never be able to dance with me properly.”

“I don’t care about dancing, but we’d find a way for you to dance.”

“I won’t be able to pleasure you how you want.”

“That's certainly not true at all.”

“You’ll become burdened by me. I require assistance a lot.”

“That’s what servants are for, and you’d never be a burden to me even if I did have to do it myself.”

“I can’t ride horses...or dragons.”

“You can and I’ll help you.”

“I’ll be useless to you.”

“No, you will not. Are you trying to convince me to not marry you?”

“I’m only telling you what you’ll have to put up with from me.”

“There’s more to you than your condition. From what your father boasts about, you’re very knowledgeable in diplomacy and strategy. You’ve studied philosophy, cultures, and histories. You’ve studied other cultures and languages, and he claims you speak High Valyrian?”

“Oh, no,” you shook your head and laughed. “Your uncle, Prince Daemon, visited my father once at Tower Hill, and he taught me a few words. I think he was only being kind to me because he felt sorry for me.”

Or because he’d never bedded a crippled woman before and wanted to see what it was like. It angered him somewhat. You’re not a novelty or exotic sexual venture. You’re a person, a beautiful person, and his wife-to-be. “I could teach it to you,” he said, “If you wished to truly learn it. I speak it the most fluently out of my siblings, and I won’t mind.”

You smiled softly. It lit up your face and crinkled your eyes slightly. You looked beautiful. “That’d be lovely.”

“I’d also like to introduce you to my dragon,” he added. “Vhagar is a bit skittish with strangers, but once she’s used to your scent, she’s less aggressive.”

“I heard she’s the oldest of them all?”

“And the largest.”

You then giggled, and when you gave you a questionable look, you said, “Oh, forgive me, my prince. I just had the silly thought that perhaps she chose you because you remind her of Queen Visenya.”

“What?” he almost laughed at it himself.

“With your hair being white and long like hers, and her being the dragon equivalent of an old maid, I imagined her thinking you were, but only missing an eye.”

He couldn’t help laughing with you. “Oh gods, now I’m going to think of that whenever I ride her.”

The mood between you lifted after that. Aemond continued talking with you all night, slowly building a world with only the two of you. To him, you were the most interesting person in the room. It was rare for him to meet someone who didn’t stare at his eye or give notice to it. Most people usually couldn’t stop. He hated to think how you’d react if he ever removed it, and he’d never do so.

Once you started living in the Red Keep, Aemond constructed a chair with wheels, so you’d go places faster instead of relying on guards to lift you everywhere or struggle with your crutches. It gave you a sense of freedom whenever you went down long halls in your chair. You liked it more when Aemond wheeled you around instead of a guard. He took you on walks around the gardens, and showed you all his favorite places within the castle. He brought you to the godswood, which quickly became your favorite place since it reminded you of home. It always was the sight of your first kiss. You’d been reading out loud about the Ghiscari empire when he softly called your name. When you turned your head, he kissed you briefly. When you gave him that bright smile, he kissed you again.

To ride horses, since you admired them so much, he constructed a special saddle for you. You’d command the horse with words and sounds instead of feet movement, even though you managed to do that as well. He marveled watching you trot your horse, Summer, around the yard for a while. Your delighted giggles, and cheers made him smile, a thing he so rarely did. Riding Vhagar was no problem, since he held you close to him in the saddle. You admitted you’d prefer staying on the ground, but you still greatly admired his mount.

He didn’t wear his eye patch around you. Seeing his own disability made you more comfortable with yours. Soon, he stopped caring if people stared, because it certainly took attention away from you on your chair. Your comfort and happiness is always a priority to Aemond.

The day of your wedding, he thought you were the most beautiful woman in the room. He couldn’t take his eyes off you for too long, because nothing kept his attention as much as you. Aemond hated dancing, but he let your feet stand over his as he moved around the room. It was careful and not the same speed as everyone else, yet it made you happier than ever. When time for the bedding came, Aemond carried you to the bed, kissing and taking great care not to hurt you.

That night, Aemond showed you all the ways you both could pleasure one another. Having you on the edge of the bed broke your maidenhead for him. Then propping you up on pillows to have you from behind (as you’d asked if he would); the second time involved you in his lap so you grinded against one another and on your sides facing one another and also with your back to him became part of your regular routine. Aemond kissed and fondled you throughout it, and you did the same back.

When you had your firstborn, you thought the child might come out with a disability the same as yours, but you’d been wrong. Taegon Targaryen came out healthy and pink with white hair and your eye color. A son of The North and The South. You wrapped him in a shawl you’d embroidered, dragons and bears running side by side over a field of dark green. He grew into a handsome, capable youth who had his mother’s good heart and his father’s martial skills.

Aemond loved and adored you, and he showed that to you every day until his last.

***

A/N: okay, so this was my first attempt at writing a disabled character. Since the illnesses I have aren’t physical ones, I wasn’t sure where to begin, but I looked to my mother who has a lot of physical/spinal issues and took direction from there. I really enjoyed writing this little venture from my comfort zone, and I hope the requester enjoyed it too.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x yn #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd drabbles #hotd imagines #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #ewan mitchell

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