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lovelykhaleesiii · 1 year ago

Note

hi there! would you be up to writing smut

Dark!Aemond? something for example with age difference, daddy kink, corruption kink, degradation and breeding? If you are comfortable then Reader could be a Targaryen what would be great but if you aren't comfortable then Stark is perfect too

Twisted, Beautiful Minds.

PAIRING: Dark!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Niece!Reader

WORDS: 2,677.

WARNINGS: mentions of warfare/murder, mentions of death-threats, swearing, degradation kink, choking, Daddy kink, corruption kink, breeding kink, manipulation, narcissistic tendencies, male oral receiving [cock sucking], mentions of p in v sexual intercourse.

A/N - you know I'm always down for some dark!Aemond... I want to also dedicate this piece, as a small bday gift to my wonderful friend Mar @aemondsmoon you have been an absolute light for me on this hellsite, and one of my dearest friends... thank you for always being there for me, and thank you for being you. you are an absolute gem, don't ever change. ilysm! 🤍

The turmoil and toils of war had finally come to an end, when Aegon the Elder, your Uncle, had commanded Sunfyre to set your beloved mother, Rhaenyra, and younger brother, Aegon III, to death by dragonfire. Your heart shattered, and mind numb, you were certain your own death was imminent in the moments after: at the very least, your Uncle would punish you with a dragonrider's death... Yet that would not be the case at all.

It seemed other plans had been set in stone. Chained and escorted by the Kingsguard to return to King's Landing once more, where you had only days previous, fled in fear, were you welcomed by the cold stares of the "Green" Council. Your chains removed, as neither the King nor his Mother, had seen you as a threat, you felt no purpose to resist nor to fight back... Your family dead, your will had died along with them.

"Fetch for Aemond. Tell my younger brother that his betrothed has returned."

His stern words felt incomprehensible in your thoughtless mind, lagging to understand the notion. You felt a cool, chill course through your weak body, rigid as though you had turned to stone, and yet, you were still breathing, still ever so present. No one had consulted you on such plans or schemes. And you were certain that Aemond himself would definitively refuse to marry the daughter of a traitor [as you presumed he would justify]. Your Uncle, Aemond, was a formidable man, fought against your late father, and had emerged the victor... And as the war, and the recent imprisoned days had taken its toll on you, your eyes darkened with the lack of sleep, unable to eat a crumb of bread, you did not look as you once had in your frivolous court, as he had once remembered you.

Although, as he sauntered into the room with such poise and stature, a certain charisma of that of a victor oozing about him, with not a single word exchanged, other than a devious smirk supplanted across his once serious face...It seemed there was more to the union than meets the eye.

Since your captive return to King's Landing, a place in which you had once considered your home, felt nothing more foreign. The stone sand walls that you had walked and run through as a child, now looked strange, the unfamiliar symbols of the Seven proudly hung around every available wall and space, gave an ominous feel. The halls seemed less brighter, even during the break of day, with the sunlight blatant in the sky, you instinctively felt as though a shadow lurked around every corner, attentive to your every move.

Dragonless, and defenceless, you were less of a threat than the younger Princess, Jahaera. The King and his Council had deemed you stable enough to roam the castle grounds freely, with a close knight in pursuit, only to ensure your own "protection" [as Aegon would admit that Aemond insisted], although you saw it more as means to deter you from being tempted to run away.

Regardless, Aemond had not spoken a word to you since hearing of the betrothal. He attended dinners with you in sight, although you rarely spoke yourself, mostly pleading and bickering with Alicent to remain in the desolate confines of your chambers. She was incessant about you joining the family, as the union was to be set in a moon's turn.

He dared not even to sit beside you: constantly at opposing ends. Although, there were rare occasions you had caught the younger Prince, brazenly staring at you with his one good eye. Unapologetically, his full attention spanned towards you, even if he had noticed you had become aware, he did not cease gawking.

Something about his looming gaze made you feel uneasy, very much on edge: a dark tinge to his violet eye, his pupils darkened as they seemed dilated. It inevitably made your stomach churn, only forcing you to resign in defeat, often excusing yourself to bed.

And often you were left undisturbed to recluse in your chambers... Although tonight, it seemed you were not alone in your ventures.

Retracing the exact steps you would take most nights, often on your lonesome return to your quarters: this time there was an accompanying sound in the distance, echoing down the hallway behind you. Heavy footsteps that caught your immediate attention. Slowly panning around, the shimmer of his lengthy, silver hair against the pale moonlight that peaked through the open crescents of the corridor, was alluring to your eye. Halting in your tracks, your breath hitched against your throat, all in trepidation, as Aemond effortlessly caught up with you in a few short strides. This was the closest he had ever truly come up to you, his towering height against you, made him even more daunting face to face.

"Running off to bed again, I see. And why is that?"

The sudden eruption of his deep, low voice breaking the stillness of the castle passage, startled you uneasily. You had exchanged many words and conversations with your elder Uncle before, during an ancient time long before the Dance had spurred. Although, the dynamics had inevitably changed, blood had been shed viciously and cruel words spat. Despite the same Valyrian blood coursing through your veins as of your betrothed, you felt solitary in their surrounding presence.

"I-I lost my appetite, U-Uncle. I wish to retire for the night," You aimlessly stutter, too weak to hold eye contact with Aemond, whose gaze remained fixated on you. His vibrant lilac orb luring over every inch of your timid body.

"Do you think it wise to roam the castle your lonesome self? Has the war not taught you otherwise? Is my niece still that same stupid, little whore I have known?"

His harsh remarks shadowed by that familiar, sly grin struck across his slim face, was plenty to furnace an incoming reaction from you, your blood boiling beneath your tender skin.

"Ah- tongue tied now, princess? Have I struck a chord with you, hmm? Mayhaps you are as weak as your father was... Now, how would he feel knowing you are to marry me? That I'll fuck his little girl, like the common whores he saw."

Your mind had no correlation to your hand, and yet the simmering rage that blistered through your body sent your mind to abyss. The small palm of your hand, strikingly latched across Aemond's face furiously. And yet, although a sharp stinging sensation poured across your hand, Aemond remained unfazed and sturdy. It seemed you had smacked the grin across his face, and in its stead, that familiar, unnerving dark tinge in his eyes scorned across at you.

Before you knew it, Aemond gripped your sides firmly, forcing your body forward, as he harshly shoved you against the cold, stone wall.

"You think that wise, whore? After the mercy I fucking showed you. I could have your fucking hand for that, or worse your head. My pretty wife's head on a spike, I'll have it right outside my window."

The cruelty that oozed from his precise lips was relentless. You wanted to burst into tears or more, burst into flames there and then...

"Do you know how long I have waited to have you under my very touch? All the sacrifices I made, the arguments I fought against my own Council to keep you alive? Ungrateful fucking bitch. Did your Daddy not teach you to be a good, obedient girl?"

One of Aemond's calloused, rough hands reached up hastily, his long fingers wrapping just so lightly around your throat, as his thumb gently stroked at your lips. His viable eye ogling tentatively over your mouth, smacking his lips innately.

"I'm your fucking Daddy now. Teach you how to be a proper lady, and a good fucking wife. I'm going to fuck that pretty pussy of yours, till you are dripping of me. I'll have you begging like a pathetic, stupid whore. I'll fuck you till I have heirs of my own, till I see fit that you have disgraced your extinct, traitorous bloodline."

"A-Aem, U-Uncle-" You breathlessly whimper in fear: freshly, swelled tears glaze your vision, as they begin to clear with each shedding streak.

"What did I just fucking say? I'm not your Uncle anymore, bitch. I'm your fucking Daddy. You would be helpless without me. Probably dead without my doing. You fucking owe me."

"Y-Yes-" Another breathless whimper, although Aemond's grip loosened, his other hand began to slowly move its way over towards your breast. His uninjured eye moving in motion with his hand, eagerly wandering over your bust. That same, very hand, began to keenly grope at your plush side, kneading at your breast tenderly, it felt foreign and sensitive under his strange touch.

"All fucking mine... Finally. Did you really think, I would let some insolent lord have you to himself? I'd start a war for you, I won the war for you. And now you're going to repay me, just so-"

A mindless moan flew out of your wet lips, catching you abruptly by surprise, and by the looks of it Aemond, as his blackened pupil dilated with a ravenous hunger, his ears pricking and leaning forward in delight.

"I'll have you moaning for more, precious. Now on your fucking knees-"

Even with the hatred that roared deep within your belly, you felt reluctant to retaliate, as you knew Aemond would effortlessly overpower you. As he had in your youth, when you were caught in a brawl with him, often ending with him wrestling you to the ground. And after his detailed spill of such vile threats, you dared not to risk the second chance of life, you had been granted.

Your knees hit the concrete floor with some brutality, although you regained from the ache. As you steadied your propped position, your hands gripping tightly at Aemond's slim waist, he began to undo his grey, washed out trousers.

The sheer sight of his cock, was intense enough to have you questioning whether you could even take him. Although slim in girth, his length was extraordinary. A reddened tip just oozing lusciously with a white, clear film glistening over the crown.

"Suck Daddy real good, bitch. Show me that, that mouth has other good uses than for talking back."

Your attention lurking from below, dropping from Aemond's face to his cock and back up once more to his face: the sudden change in his mood shifting was palpable. The momentary, light-hearted look of ecstasy dismantled as a cold, unsettling gaze resumed across his handsome face, lingering over your kneeled state.

"Make me fucking repeat myself one more time, whore and I'll treat you worse than a whore. I'll have you forget that you are a Targaryen princess."

Aemond's large hands found their way at the base of your skull, teasingly stroking your loose strands away from your face, within a few seconds the sudden shove towards him, left you physically speechless. Your mouth slightly agape, was enough for Aemond's stiffened, pulsating tip to propel its way into your tight mouth. The friction of his hard cock against your silky, warm flesh inside, was enough to set Aemond's breathing into a speedy pace. Lean chest heaving, the mindless groaning on his behalf was somewhat alluring. You had never seen nor heard such sounds or vulnerability in Aemond before.

"F-Fuck, that feels so fucking good- Just as I prayed to the Gods. I'm going to make your mouth so numb, so fucking filthy of me, you'll be tasting me still in the months to come."

No coherent words exchanged from below his waist, only muffled moans and breath hitches, as you sulked with crave. As much as it infuriated you, pained you to admit, the feeling of Aemond's rigid, throbbing cock in your mouth, was elevating. You had to admit, in your youth, previous to the blood that had been shed, you had a childhood feverish crush on your elder Uncle, although thought it unlikely that anything would flourish from it.

"Seven Hells. Such a pretty whore, with a pretty mouth. J-Just the p-prettiest whore in the Seven Kingdoms."

With each plunge, rhythmically bobbing backwards and forwards, the raw taste of Aemond's cum, tastefully filling your mouth to capacity, as a mixture of his reside and your own saliva oozed from your crevices. The dreading thought of being caught in such a contentiously vulnerable position, especially before being wedded, was disturbing enough, for you were not yet widely favoured by the Council...

"Ughh- Swallow and get up, whore."

Self-disgust stirred nauseatingly in the pit of your gut, as you reluctantly devoured small mouthfuls of Aemond's load, almost convincing yourself you would retch it all up in a matter of seconds. Much to your relief, you remained poised, meekly wiping away the mess across your lips, shying away from Aemond's unmoving regard. As you regained your normal pace of breathing, Aemond lent a hand over, grasping your undivided attention. With such ease, Aemond aided you, lifting you up to stand, before confining you closely between the wall and his heated body once more, closing whatever space was made between.

"Now let's see what that cunt has to offer."

His skilful hands hiking your layered gown up, making way for his arms to snake around your bare thighs, lifting you idly off the ground.

"Can't wait till the wedding to tarnish you, I've waited long enough."

A sudden bolt of lightening pain shot from within your inner thighs, as your tight walls stretched out ceaselessly to accommodate, as Aemond shoved his rigid cock inside. Your back flattened against the sandstone wall, its texture rough against the delicate silk of your gown. Burying his length deeper and deeper with each harsh thrust, his heavy balls collided with your silky folds as he vigorously pumped himself back and forth. His pace, although rough, remained steady. His raw, sensitive tip pummelling at your cervix, felt scorching inside your lower belly.

"And if I fuck you so good, that you begin to swell with my child... What would your dead family think of their precious daughter then, huh? These tits belong to me now, and the mother's milk that comes with it. Your entire being belongs to me now. That babe in your belly will be all because of me, and you'll fucking love every bit of it."

"I-I owe you my l-life, D-Daddy-"

The words mindlessly slipped from you lips, and yet it felt instinctual to say. As Aemond's mouth lapped at the sensitive crook of your neck, you felt the smirk of his grin against your skin, his sharp teeth faintly biting at your soft flesh.

"That's right, baby. That's so right my needy, little slut. You have a Daddy now that can really take care of you, protect you... Love you."

The epitome of his words, the calm depth in his voice, had reached its glorifying peak, as Aemond's hot load shot up directly into you, reverently coating your insides. Like some royal orchestra in unison to his final thrust, did a growling moan escape his lips, followed by an whisper of a swear. Leaning his exhausted, heavier mass over you, as he safely guided your legs back down to the surface, his breath densely hot against your ear, his outstretched palms cladded against the wall for support.

"Clean yourself up, Y/N... Wouldn't want anyone else to see you as the whore that you are, and get any ideas-"

His heavy breathing made his voice less formidable and more husky. Eyeing over your form, as you once more scoured and polished up the mess he made between your thighs, with the inner layer of your gown. You simply nodded in response to his demand, before hastily attempting to rush back to the confines of your quarters.

Yet, a firm pull tugged at your elbow, causing you to halt in your tracks, unavoidably.

"I will seek you out again tonight... Be ready for me."

general taglist - @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @hightowhxre @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @aegonslawyer

Aemond taglist - @megatardisbaby @harrypotteranna23-blog

credit for divider - @/itbmojojoejo

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rosenyras · 2 years ago

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The Night of Feud and Desire

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon ( Strong ) Female Reader

Summary: After Aemond stirs up the Dragon’s Dinner with his taunts, you go and search for him to give him a piece of your mind. However, the night ends very differently than you had planned.

Warnings: Nsfw, typical Targaryen inc*st, language, slight violence, slight choking, Aemond is rough, overstimulation

Notes: I used a Valyrian translator so apologies if it’s not correct!

To be truthful, you were just about done with every one of your family members.

Your brothers - more so Lucerys - despite being your bestest of friends had never irked you more so than tonight. You had wanted so badly for this dinner to go smoothly, especially after the heartfelt speeches both Alicent and your mother spoke towards the other. But the men in the family clearly had other plans.

By the time you had seen Lucerys’ teasing smirk towards Aemond, your foot kicking into his leg to abruptly stop him came too late and the long haired blonde had already embarked on his disguised digs towards Rhaenyra’s children. His part towards you, however, was slightly different - if not a bit basic - even though the obvious reference to Harwin Strong applied to you as well.

“To my beautiful niece, Y/N, I hope the days ahead of you treat you with kindness. And to my nephews …” And the night fell in sure swiftness after the rest of his words were alight in the air.

When the boys began their scuffle, you had originally wanted to intervene more so to get Aegon’s hands off your little brother. Though he was a nuisance, you were quite protective of him. However, a hand on your arm and a warning look belonging to your great uncle, Daemon, refrained you from doing so.

After all of you were dismissed to your separate bed chambers, only an hour had passed before you decided to leave. You did not blame Aemond for the retaliation in his own right, but the constant digs that he threw you and your brothers about being bastards over the last couple of years had rooted itself in your gut and would not ease unless you confronted him about it.

Aemond and your brothers war of words were one thing, to be entirely truthful you did not forget how Aemond was often tormented as a child, but most of that was derived from Aegon, and he did not show that same aggression towards his brother. And to you - you did not understand it.

You and Aemond were so very close as children, being outsiders in your own right - you, a girl amongst brothers and him, a dragonless child that was often picked on. You defended him from Aegon, and your brothers knew when to quiet so not to face your wrath. You also allowed Aemond to be close to your dragon, Rhyxia, so he could at least satisfy his yearning for a dragon.

In turn, he taught you the way of a sword - in secret of course. You were not allowed to join public practice due to the sole reason of your gender, so he would use whatever he learned in lessons to teach you how to defend yourself. The two of you had an undisclosed agreement of sorts, yet you had never been happier than when you were together.

And then, the distance grew when your mother announced your family would inhabit Dragonstone. Once the year passed and you and Aemond were reunited once more by way of Laena Velaryon’s funeral, it was as if no time had passed at all. Until your brothers and cousins engaged in a fight that took his eye.

You were not there during the attack, but you knew when you heard of the word he had chose to spit in the face of Luke and Jace - and by extension, you - your childhood bonding would be forever fractured. And as he stood with his mother and you yours, you never imagined yourself alone with Aemond again. Until now.

As you shut your door, you were instantly met with your assigned guard. He was a lovely young man, but as your eyes lay on him irritation grew within your bones. “Princess Y/N, where are you headed at such a late hour?”

Biting your lip, you deigned him a response that would indeed be unsatisfactory. “Ser Rolland, I just wish to go for a stroll alone, if you’ll excuse me…”

As you made to take a step, he placed a hand in front of you. “Your mother instructed I stay with you, I’m sorry, my lady.”

You loved your mother dearly, but right now you had to refrain from rolling your eyes at her overprotectiveness.

“Well, we best get a move on then, Ser Rolland.”

As you strolled the hallways, the sound of moving armour dawned each of your steps. It soon became clear to you in your want to keep the secrecy on where you were headed would be of no use, and besides, you couldn’t exactly remember where Aemond’s quarters were now, especially if his rooms had changed.

Turning to your guard, you placed a small smile upon your lips. “If you may, Ser, could you please escort me to Prince Aemond’s chambers?”

A single blink was all you received in terms of facial expression as your guard responded. “Of course, my lady.”

As he took charge, you followed Ser Rolland for quite a distance until he stopped outside a door that held a guard posted outside. So Aemond had changed his rooms. Interesting.

As you approached the door, you decided a knock would be more pleasant than simply barging in on your uncle, no matter how much you wished to do so. If he were to be indecent and you stumbled upon him with no clothes … you shook your head to get rid of those thoughts as your face warmed with embarrassment.

A faint call of ‘Enter’ was your only preparation before you opened and stepped inside Aemond’s room.

You noticed him immediately, sitting in front of a fireplace, his back towards you. You could only see the slightest hint of his face, his eyepatch calling to you as if serving you of a memory you would much rather forget.

“How may I help you, niece?”

His voice spoke louder than the crackling embers dancing in front of him. You clasped your hands behind your back, deigning your voice to remain as steady as possible. “How come you know it is me, uncle?”

Aemond’s head turned towards you in the slightest move that he might not have even moved at all. “Only you knock in such a pattern, Y/N. I have not forgotten.”

You couldn’t help but scoff slightly. “Yet it seems you have forgotten what I once was to you. Are you often in the company of remembering the knock patterns of bastards?”

Silence fell, the tension so heavy that you could easily slice it. And just as suddenly, Aemond stood, as if he couldn’t help but remind you that he towered over you even from afar. As he spoke, he crept closer and closer towards you - as if a magnetic pull was driving the two of you closer.

“You know those insults irk your brothers more so than you, it is why I speak them. Did you not say as a child you had no care for who your father was and by extension that word had no effect over you?”

Well. Damn.

To be truthful you did not expect him to remember such a throwaway comment and in such detail, perhaps you should know better than to underestimate Aemond Targaryen.

“You are right, but perhaps my expectations that you would have forgotten about this childhood melodrama were foolish-”

Not a second passed after those words left your mouth that Aemond had grabbed hold of your waist and pushed you up against the closest wall. Your back thudded with the impact, more so shock from not expecting such a move.

It was a low blow, of course it was, but you had not forgotten that Aemond had not even looked at you the night his eye was taken, as if acknowledging your presence was beneath him from that point forward.

Aemond placed a hand next to your head, caging you in with both his body and his glare. “Your brother took my eye and I swear, I will take revenge for that. You should be content that I did not do more tonight.”

Your eyes briefly flicked down to his lips but you forced yourself to keep eye contact with him, not allowing yourself to flinch away. Instead of replying in English, you flicked your tongue to Valyrian. “Ao would ōdrikagon nyke, Aemond?” You would hurt me, Aemond?

Aemond slightly tilted his head downwards before raising his eyes towards yours. “Daor ao, aōha brothers.” Not you, your brothers.

“Naejot ōdrikagon ñuha brothers iksis naejot ōdrikagon nyke.” To hurt my brothers is to hurt me.

Aemond immediately drew himself closer, his breath mingling with yours as he lifted his right hand up to your throat, to do what, you did not know.

All you replied with was a small whisper. “Kostilus, Aemond.” Please, Aemond.

And that seemed to break him.

Closing the short distance between your lips, Aemond crashed his mouth upon yours, not caring about the smashing of teeth - almost like he was desiring the slight pain. His left hand remain caged against your head while his right enclosed around your throat with the slightest pressure as if it was in every inch of his desire to control you.

A slight whimper escaped you, the heat of anger and wanting building up inside you as you tried your best to convey that within the kiss. Once your mouth departed with that slight noise, Aemond didn’t miss a chance before slipping his tongue inside your mouth, your tongues not so much as dancing but instead his just completely dominating yours.

You lifted your hand against his cheek, the rough leather on the straps of his eyes patch rubbing against your skin. And as suddenly as you had placed it there, Aemond used the hand that was against your head to grab both of yours, lifting your arms up and holding them against the wall.

The sudden impact caused you to gasp, moving your hips subconsciously forward, instantly feeling the effect you were having on Aemond with his hardness stretching tight against his pants. In return, Aemond let the slightest of sighs slip between his lips as he moved his mouth towards your neck, tugging on your earlobe and using his tongue to run its way up and down your skin.

“I’ve wanted you since we were young, Y/N. My heart has always belonged to you.” His right hand moved from your neck to cup your cheek. “Ziry va moriot kessa.” It always will.

“Aemond, I-” before you had a chance to finish your sentence, Aemond took ahold of your arms and dragged you towards his bed, placing you on it before making his way on top of you so the two of you were eye to eye.

“I need to hear you say it, Y/N, that you want this.”

“I do,” you breathed, your words no more than whispers. “I want you, Aemond.”

Giving you one final look, Aemond began moving his way down your body until he was face to face with your clothed lower half. Your dress for the night had been one that was easy to slip on and so you had no other expectations as Aemond quickly slipped it off and with it your undergarments. As you lay completely naked, your nipples hardening with the fresh air, Aemond’s eyes rove over every inch of your body, as if you were a meal he wished to take his time with.

As he lifted his hands towards your thighs, separating them to get a good view of your cunt, slight whines escaped your mouth with the need to be touched. Aemond’s fingers circled around your inner thighs, drawing closer and closer with such a teasing touch.

“Seven hells, Aemond, please just-”

Your whine was soon cut off with his lips upon yours and with it, his fingers finally found your cunt. Considering how wet you were, it took you by no surprise as he easily found his way to your clit, circling it with such ease that you nearly exploded right then and there. His mouth managed to silence most of your moans, but they soon were unleashed as Aemond moved to one of your nipples and began licking and softly biting at it.

It was soon after that he slipped a finger inside your entrance, moving with such efficiency that an added second wasn’t far behind. He soon moved to your other nipple, continuing the same movements. It was after he fitted a third finger inside did he speak.

“Jaelan naejot rȳbagon skorkydoso olvie ao jorrāelagon nyke, isse Valyrīha.” I want to hear how much you need me, in Valyrian.

You whined in defiance slightly, but you were too far gone to refuse altogether.

“Ao gīmigon skorkydoso olvie nyke desire ao, Aemond. Emā va moriot known ziry. Just, please-” You know how much I desire you, Aemond. You’ve always known.

Suddenly, Aemond removed his fingers from you, making you annoyed with displeasure. His raised his hands to his lips, tasting you while remaining eye contact. Having enough of being the only presence in the room without clothes, you quickly tore at his leathers to get rid of them. You just wanted to be close to him.

Once he was rid of his clothes, he hooked your leg around his body, lowering you on the bed as he hovered over you, the two of you simply staring at each other was enough to make you content in the moment. As you lifted your hand to his face, you spoke in a hushed tone. “Take me, Aemond. Make me yours.”

And that he did. Aemond placed a singular kiss on your lips as he directed his cock towards your entrance, pushing in as he rested his forehead on yours. His hand that wasn’t fisted in the sheets beside your head made its way to your clit, circling it to relieve some of the pain.

Your breaths were getting louder by the minute, slowly turning into moans as Aemond moved back and forwards, easing into you more with each thrust. As you wrapped your hands around his shoulders, pulling him even more closer to you - if that was possible - you breathed out, “Aemond… please.”

Taking that as a sign to go faster, he began moving with more urgency with every thrust. It was as if he was conveying how much passion he had for you with how direct he was with snapping his hips against yours. As the seconds pass and your moans became louder and louder, both of your release on the edge, you couldn’t help but slip out, “I love you.”

Aemond’s head was buried in the crook of your neck, his hitched breaths and slight sighs abruptly stopped, but his hips sure didn’t. Aemond began thrusting with sudden urgency, the bed creaking against the wall. The hand that was gripping your thigh began pressing harder, something that was surely going to leave bruises the next morning.

Your release crept up without warning, exploding with such urgency that you couldn’t help but yelp. Aemond, however, didn’t let up on his pace. At first you thought he was helping you ride out your orgasm, but then it became clear he had no intention of stopping. “Aemond-“

“Did you mean it?” His hips slowed to a steady pace as he raised his head to look you in the eye, his only sign of pleasure was his hitched breaths. You instantly knew what he meant and you didn’t even try to deny it during the midst of such pleasure.

“Yes, fuck, yes I meant it.” Your nails began raking down his back as you couldn’t help but chase after another orgasm. Aemond didn’t waste a second before fastening his pace, wanting you to reach the height of your pleasure before he came.

“Fuck, Aemond!” You would feel sorry for every pair of ears in close proximity to you, but right now the only focus was your second orgasm rippling through every part of your body. You soon felt Aemond cum inside you, his only hint of outward pleasure was a low grunt escaping his lips.

Still inside you, Aemond once again placed his forehead upon yours, placing his lips on yours with such contrasted gentleness to the pace of his hips moments before. He made sure to look you in the eyes before speaking.

“It is true for me too, I love you with every inch of my being, Y/N.”

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 9 months ago

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''Fight and Die'' Slightly darkAemond x AFAB Reader 18+ MDNI PART 4

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, abusive brother (but its not aemond) mentioned of forced marriages and duels, mentions of parental loss.

🔷Summary: Your ancestors once betrayed the Targaryens and paid a high price. Now you are back at court with your brother, who hopes to sell you in exchange for his freedom.

🔷Author's note: It might still be a little darkish but not as dark as usual. I think this is the closest to show aemond I ever got. So he still is not a unicorn yall but he is at least imo he is decent and nice.

🔷Wordcount :5133

Warnings below the cut

Special thanks to: @pterodactylterrace for spelling and grammar tips!!!:) ((it is much appriciated friend!)x

CW: Mention of oc's mother dying in childbirth, mention of treasons, also vaginal sex, oral sex (f recieving) fucking, dirty talk, smut, aemond being a little dark but nothing too extreme! Discussion of murder.

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Only a few days ago, your brother swore he would restore your house, house Marthyralys back to it’s former glory, back to where it was during Maegor’s time. Your ancestor, Daeyor Marthyralys was a council member for king Maegor. His crimes eventually ended with him on the stake, being burned by dragon fire and ending with your family being banished from Westeros for almost a century.

That was until you and your brother Fyrand returned to the Seven Kingdoms. You remember how you first entered the Red

Keep, your hands shaking and your eyes scanning every inch of every room, taking in as much security detail and doors as you could. It was clear to you that these silver-haired people were not your friends. They were your enemies. Your brother, Fyrand, said so himself multiple times.

The Targaryens frightened you. Of course they did. They were your father’s killer, your older brother's killers, the reason your house became dragonless, why you almost starved to death. And aside from that, Targaryens are known for their short tempers and long grudges, their insanity and incest. There is much to fear from the dragon people. And so you do.

And now, two days later, you are married to the King's son, Prince Aemond Targargyen. He won the duel for your hand against Prince Jacaerys Velyaron, the Princess’s heir. You assumed Fyrand would prefer Jacaerys, as it would be his mother that one day will become Queen, but for some reason unknown to you, he had already made peace and assumed Aemond would win the duel. He was very certain of it when you visited him in the dungeon.

And he was right, as always.

Prince Aemond won the duel and humiliated prince Jacaerys. The wedding ceremony followed the same evening, as was custom in your house. The one-eyed Prince had done his research into your house, your brother, your traditions…even you. He knew of the full day rule when it comes to duel-marriages, and he used it to his advantage by forcing you into marriage with him on the same day he won your hand.

Fyrand simply had asked you to keep the prince happy and so far you like to think you succeeded. You have done your duties and even went as far to sleep with Aemond, which was surprisingly pleasant. He was not the beast he wants the world to think he is. He has not hit you. Not once. Nor forced you or hurt you. He is gentle. Kind, in a way. And so unmistakably broken.

Your brother assumed you would have no trouble winning Jacaerys and Aemond over, and in his head that might have made sense but outside of that skull, there is no magic in your veins. You can’t just snap your fingers and make Aemond fall in love with you. He is his own person and you have the feeling that even if you tried to manipulate him into doing your bidding, it would either be too obvious or end up in an argument.

Ever since you were born, you were loyal to your house. But now that you are married, you are starting to doubt everything you ever know. Aemond shows you kindness and grants you protection in ways you never thought possible. Ways you never dared to even dream of.

But the rest of his kin, his blood and his fire that roams the halls of the red keep, hells, even the bloody servants and the guards, from the kitchen wenches to the maids cleaning your chamber pots: They all despise you and your brother for the crimes of your ancestors. There is no winning these people over with whining by Aemond’s side, you need to show them that you are different. But how? Your personal life does not matter, it is your last name that defies you and that is still Marthyralys and not Targaryen, for better or for worse.

And therefore you are worried that you will never be accepted into the Red Keep. Not truly. At first, that did not matter to you. But now that you have met and came to know Aemond, you already developed complicated feelings for him in a very short time. And you know: You want his mother to like you. To at least approve of you. For the sake of your brother’s plans and Aemond’s approval.

She’s his mother, yes. But also the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You can imagine that Fyrand would like it if you became her friend, or even trusted advisor, some honerably position among court.

You are preparing for the meeting by putting on a different, less pious gown. Your old gown is disposed of, It slides down your body, bearing you half naked in front of your husband, who does his best to pretend to be busy with his book to notice. However, you notice his good eye, sometimes briefly lifting from the words on paper taking secret glances at your body instead. As if he’s not your husband yet, as if he is not entitled to you. ‘’Does your mother have a preference for a dress?’’ You ask him, as you pillage the closet that servant earlier had filled with gowns for you. Red, black, green, gold and even silver gowns end up on the ground as you quickly look everything over, your head drowning in fabrics and ideas of what Alicent Hightower would approve of.

Aemond no longer pretends to read, slamming the book shut so carelessly that you doubt he was even reading to begin with. ‘’She loves wearing green.’’ He says, politely, smiling and clearing trying to talk you into picking a green dress.

‘’That’s what I’m afraid of.’’ You mutter. You wearing green would be a declaration of war to Princess Rhaenyra. She would see it as an allyship with Alicent. And for now, it’s important to play and appease both sides, Fyrand told you that before you left Pentos.

‘’I would like it as well.’’

Aemond continues to push you slightly, standing up from the chair he was sitting on. His hands wrap around your waist as he puts the green dress in front of you, eyeing you despite standing behind you all thanks to the big mirror in his room. You nervously bite down on your lips, tasting a bit of blood. He picked a dark green gown with sleeves made of dark lace. The back is also made of lace almost exclusively for the corners. It is a beautiful gown. ‘’You’d look beautiful in this gown. Although,’’ He lowers his voice, whispering in your ear. ‘’I can’t make any promises it won’t be ripped before the next sunrise.’’

‘’When I rip it off your body when we are home, tonight.’’ He leaves several soft kisses on your neck, all the way to both your shoulders.

You stagger on your feet, shocked and pleasantly affected by his words. He grins, pleased with the effect and leaves a soft kiss on your cheek. ‘’Pick whatever you like, but know that Green is superior.’’ Those words echo a lot in your head as you compare the dress to a red more modest gown with less lace made of modest silk.

You doubt if Alicent would appreciate you showing up half covered in her rooms, wearing the lace green dress. It also perhaps would be chilly or awkward to wear as well.

So, you pick up the red dress. The fabric feels much softer, much more pleasant and warmer. You let your fingers pet and slide along the fabric, following where the stitches were once put. There is a golden belt to accompany the dress, a thin accessory. The shoulders have subtle details, but you can tell it is supposed to represent dragonscales. Perhaps a nice dress if you are meeting with Rhaenyra.

You hold the dress to your body, imagining yourself in the lush fabric. ‘’Hm. Opposite of Green.’’ Aemond comments, from where he leans against his desk. He pretends to be busy with cleaning it, putting aside quills, vials of ink and parchment.

You put the red gown back on the bed, and instead pick up a gorgeous soft blue coloured gown, with silver patterns of swirls on the sleeves.

‘’Blue?’’ You ask Aemond, tilting your head slightly.

He has one response and it is not a pleasant one. His nose slightly rises in disapproval and his stance becomes closed, as if he reminds himself to be careful around you. ‘’You do as you wish.’’

You sigh, careful to not roll your eyes at that. What a horrible answer. You do as you wish is not only dismissive, impersonal and cold but also vague. He truly seemed to care about the dress a moment ago and now he pretends he does not care at all? Who does he think he’s with? Your memory is not failing you yet.

You feel a sting and have to fight the tears, but instead of running away or hiding from him, you stand up to him. ‘’Don’t be like that. Just say you don’t like the gown.’’ In another time, you would’ve ran or cowered. Not anymore. No longer.

Aemond sighs, still with his mind elsewhere. ‘’It’s not the gown I don’t like…’’ He murmurs.

You wonder if it’s you he does not like anymore. ‘’Revaera,’’ he tries to touch you but you step out of his reach. Aemond sighs. ‘’I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t like the color blue.’’ He says. ‘’You wear what you want. Green, black, blue, fuck it, go nude. You’re a Princess now. Someone will always be offended.’’ And that is the truth and it terrifies you. Someone will always be offended. How do you please a world that will never be happy?

You look over the gowns, but can’t stand to wear the blue or red one anymore. But going with green is also not an option. You dig a bit further into the pile of gowns, and eventually you stumble upon a beautiful purple with silver piece. Your fingers touch the silverwork, feeling the metal. The last time you saw these colors, they were on your brother Kagyr, your mother Roysa, and your father Laeyol’s caskets. Purple, violet almost so dark purple it's nearly black, and clear untroubled silver. Symbolizing the pride and the unity of your house. You hear yourself take a deep breath. You tug the dress with you. You first put it on your body, fitting it without lacing the corset.

You dismissed all your maids and ladies maids, or rather, Aemond did that. ‘’I wish we didn’t dismiss all my maids.’’ You tell him, laughing despite a few lonely tears escaping your eyes. You do it subtly, so he does not notice it.

Yet your face is turned toward his own anyway, and he wipes away the tears, before leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. ‘’We can always hire other people.’’ Instead of calling someone else in, he steps behind you, and grabs the laces of your corset. He laces it for you. You look a lot better than you did a few days ago, and with you finally dressed and proper you two can go meet the Queen.

Aemond and you walk to her chambers. Your husband has long legs and could be there long before you but instead trails behind you to ensure you are not alone in the Keep. When passing statues and portraits, Aemond tells you about the history of the people behind it, making the trip to his mother’s rooms entertaining, and useful. You know some things about the Targaryens, but more information is crucial to your survival out here.

Aemond walks as a true prince, hands folded on his back, back straightened and his pace slow as if he is in no rush to get there, despite his long legs making this challenge impossible.

Soon, instead of late you both arrive in front of a majestic looking door that already somehow tells you just exactly who is waiting behind it. These are the Queen’s chambers. Her rooms, her den, in a way. The page announces you both, as the doors swing open.

You gulp, feeling the nails on your left hand in an impulse to pull again, but you have no more nails to pull or to rip off your fingers.

You and your husband both walk in.

When you enter the lavious and luxurious rooms of the Queen, she is sitting on a bench, with her feet pulled up under her. She reads an old looking book, her mind elsewhere, clearly.

Aemond politely clears his throat, and Alicent’s red haired head snaps up in his direction. You see kindness and love in her eyes, in a way you never saw yourself. You see a mother looking at her child. Her smile dies the moment she sees you, however. ‘’Ah, Aemond. There you finally are.’’ She says, ignoring you as if you are air. You keep smiling regardless, as you do want her to approve of you.

The tender, loving slender hands of your husband find your own once again, as he whisks you away to his mother, showing you to her, introducing you formally to the Queen. ‘’Mother, I brought someone. This is Revaera, my lady, and my wife.’’ Try as he might, Aemond Targaryen cannot stop the smile that slowly grows on his lips as he speaks those words, and he seems a different man when he looks at you.

You understand now is the moment to show your respect. You make a curtsy for the Queen. Alicent sits back down, closing the book.‘’I am glad you brought her here.’’ She tells Aemond, and you can’t help but uncomfortable at that. They are like farmers talking about their broodmare. Your opinion is clearly not required.

Your husband reaches out to touch his mother, hugging her in such a gentle way unfamiliar to you. You wonder what he is feeling when he hugs his mother. Does she feel warm? Did your own mother feel warm, did she hold you like that, before she died? Did she smell as nice as Alicent? Dozens of questions you never will get answers to.

The pain of seeing another child with their mother, is unfamiliar to you. You would never wish for another to go through what you did. But why did you have to go through that regardless?

The two break their hug, unaware of your feelings and your pain. Aemond gestures a bit vaguely to you. ‘’You told me you had questions for her.’’

Whatever could she want, indeed. She’s queen of the seven kingdoms, has a husband and you have been kind to anyone here except…

You close your eyes, softly cursing yourself. This is about that handmaid that you hit. The one who called you unworthy of carrying Aemond’s children. You just know it, when you see the poorly hidden rage in Alicent’s eyes.

Somehow you should have know that Alicent provided the maids, and that in upsetting them, you upsetted her. You came in this room wishing for a allyship, you are lucky if you leave this room with mutual displeasure instead of a conflict.

Alicent nods, smiling at you. She turns to her son, her locks briefly turning so they catch the light of the chandelier. ‘’Yes, thank you for bringing her here. Aegon needs your help in his chambers. I’m afraid it is quite urgent.’’ The queen speaks, sweet as a fox. Aegon is Aemond’s brother. You have yet not spoken a word to him. You know he is the elder brother, despite Aemond being taller. Despite that he was present during the duel and your introduction, he did appear to be there with his mind at all. He was a ghost.

The expression on your husband’s face pains you, as you can see he is in clear conflict. He is ordered by his mother, by his Queen to help his brother. But he is also bound to you, his wife and his lady.

As much as it scares you to be alone, to be alone without Aemond to protect you, as you have discovered pretty early that your word means nothing without him, you know you must confront Alicent alone. She will never be honest with her son near her. ‘’It is alright, husband. I am quite certain I have nothing to fear of her grace, the Queen.’’ Famous last words, perhaps.

Alicent returns your smile, very pleased with your words. Aemond grabs your face with both his hands, gently and caresses your cheeks. He kisses you soft and kindly, respectful of his mother watching you both. ‘’I shall return soon.’’ He promises you. You hope he is right.

Aemond finally takes his leave and Alicent gestures to the lavious armchair across the small bench she is sitting on, inviting you to come sit. And so you do.

The moment you sit down, she begins her questions. ‘’I understand your life has been anything but uneasy.’’ She pauses when she sees you pinching and clawing at your own skin, in lack of nails to pull. She tries to hide it but you can see she is very distraught. She sits up straight. Unexpectedly she comes a bit closer, yet keeps her distance. As if she does not know yet if she wants to come closer or stay away.

You hear her words, silent. Why does she care? Yet you nod, agreeing with her. Your life has been uneasy. Your mother died, your father tried to kill the king, your house was exiled and poor, you nearly starved and your drunk of a one-handed brother almost daily abused you. It has not been easy.

And yet, here you sit. Alive. Whatever that is worth. Alicent takes a deep, shaky breath. It catches your attention, and when you look into her eyes you see small tears shimmering, despite her efforts to hide it. ‘’I must know, for my own sake. How does Aemond treat you?’’ You think back of the few days you have known your husband. He has been kind, gallant, gentle. A dream come true, a breaker of your chains, a light of hope you cling to in utter darkness. But why does she care?

‘’He treats me well, your Grace.’’

‘’My ladies reported they found blood on Aemond’s bed linen. You can tell me,’’ she reaches out to grab your hands. ‘’Anything, Revaera. I am not angry with you.’’ You become uneasy at her treatment, perhaps even insecure and worried.

You would not feel comfortable with lying about how well Aemond treats you. So you tell her the truth, despite you feel umcomfertable sharing such personal details and matters. ‘’Aemond and I consummated the marriage. That was expected of us both, so we did that.’’ Your voice sounds a bit snappy, and you hope that the Queen reads your body lanagune that you do not want to talk about it at all.

But to think a Hightower would just give up, would be a mistake. ‘’How did that happen, Revaera? Did he force you?’’ She asks, folding her hands against her lap.

You shake your head.

‘’No. I went willingly. It was ..pleasant, in a way, your grace.’’

Alicent seems relieved, almost happy by those words. ‘’You are happy, then? With my son?’’

You feel heat creep up to your cheeks when you think about your husband, your prince Aemond. Happiness is an unfamiliar, strange, alien, concept to you. You have never been really happy. You don’t know what that feels like. But Aemond makes you feel safe, respected and as if you matter. That is enough, for now.

‘’I’d say so, your Grace.’’ You nod to confirm your words.

She sighs, clear relief written on her face. ‘’I am glad, you are happy and both have respect for each other. A marriage without mutual respect is a marriage destined to fail.’’ You know it is unwise to speak when Alicent speaks, as she is the Queen. So instead, you sit there, nodding, as if you lost your tongue.

‘’I am afraid we must discuss a unpleasant matter.’’ Alicent says, suddenly very sharp. You gulp.

‘’I heard you abused a servant.’’

‘’She told me I was unfit to marry Aemond. That I was a traitor and a …whore.’’ You mutter. ‘’I do regret hitting her. I do. Aemond told me not to worry about it, but the truth is: I do worry. I worry a lot.’’

The door behind you opens, and your husband walks inside. You are relieved to see him, standing up. He makes a respectful bow for his mother, and after he has done that rushes to your side, to kiss you. ‘’You both seem well.’’ He observes. ‘’I hope your conversation was a pleasant one.’’

He stands next to you, hands folded on his back as you take a seat in the chair. ‘’Is your brother alright?’’ You ask. He thinks long before you get an answer.

‘’My brother is…my brother. He is fine.’’

That is a relief. And somehow also a concern.

Alicent is silent. ‘’Aemond, is it true that my handmaids have spoken about Revaera’s virtue? Did they call her a …whore?’’

He nods. ‘’Yes. I meant to speak to you about that, Mother.’’ His tone is still gentle and kind. He continues. ‘’I know it was not your fault, Mother. You likely thought they were well, kind and good for Revaera. But they were not kind or good or well for her. Not at all.’’

He takes a deep breath.

‘’Revaera has become a Princess of House Targaryen. She is my lady and my wife, one day she will become the mother of my children, gods willing.’’ You can’t help but feel even more heat rush to your cheeks at that description. Desire and fear fight in your head. Your own mother died when birthing you, and now Aemond wants to do the same with you? But to remain childless, forever out of fear…It is a big conflict. One that won’t be solved easily.

He continues, making wild movements with his hands. ‘’So, I cannot, we, as House Targaryen cannot, let this insult stand. We cannot have our servants or who else spread rumours about my wife’s purity.’’ You don’t like the sound of the finality in his voice. The sound of a man who is hurt and shamed and must restore his honour.

‘’What do you suggest, Aemond?’’ Alicent asks, and you are prepared for anything but what Aemond chooses to say.

His licks his lips briefly, his good eye so focused on you that it makes you uneasy. He is good at staring. ‘’I want them all hanged.’’ He reveals, after a brief moment, shocking you.

‘’Aemond! You can’t mean that.’’ You say, instantly. ‘’Surely a mistake was made-’’

He ignores you, planting you back in your chair firmly but gentle. He cups your chin into his hands, touching and caressing it. ‘’But I do.’’ he insists. ‘’By questioning your virtue, they question if you were pure for me.’’

You become uncomfortable once more, as you were more than pure for him. He was your first. You turn your head away. Aemond lifts it, forcing you to look into his one eye as he speaks. ‘’By questioning your purity, they question any future children we might have. Your life could be in danger, as well as the life of any child we may have. That is why I am so angry.’’ He finishes, and you understand him a bit more, but still…

You already blame yourself for your mother’s passing. What will become of you when another soul is added to that list? ‘’Fine. But only the woman that said I was a whore. The other two shall live.’’ You declare, as if it is up to you. Aemond chuckles, kissing your cheeks.

‘’I understand you have a kind, gentle heart, my wife but this is not an insult. ‘Tis high-treason.’’ And Targaryens have only one answer to that. Two, actually. One word in high-valyrian and one in the common tongue. ‘’Dracarys’’ and ‘’Behead’’.

Yet you don’t give up. You can sway your husband. You must. ‘’At least spare the girl that talked with you. You know the one. The kind one, who regretted her actions. Surely, a good man must know when to forgive?’’

To that, Aemond is briefly speechless. He thinks himself a good man.

Alicent sighs.

‘’What shall we do with her, Revaera? After she was caught, no one wanted her as their maid anymore.’’ You can imagine that must be a dealbreaker for many of the guests at the red keep.

But not for you.

‘’Have her become mine.’’ You say.

—

The maid is known as Dyana. She is a kind, humble servant from flea bottom, and you need to tell her several times to stop apologizing to you. She is very thankful. You told her she should thank Aemond for changing his mind, but she is convinced you had a hand in it. You did of course. She is lacing up your gown for the evening supper.

You and the Targaryens will have dinner tonight. It is your first official dinner and it worries you. Will you live up to the expectations? Will you do well? ‘’You have nothing to worry for.’’ Dyana assures you. ‘’Just keep smiling.’’

That is an easy one for you.

You leave Aemond’s room at last, bumping into your husband. ‘’Aemond.’’ You greet him, politely. He grins mischievously, briefly looking around for witnesses. Once he has concluded there are none, he gently pushes you against the castle walls, kissing you fiercely and without shame. You moan against his lips, lost in pleasure as he gives you dozens of little kisses on your shoulders that all feel like little bites at the same time. They pierce through your skin and leave memories and marks. Your husband grins, madly in love with you. ‘’Yes, wife?’’ He greets you, teasingly. You stutter, your cheeks heated once more. ‘’I-’’ He silences you with a grin. ‘’I think we may skip supper this once. I am in the mood for a certain Marthyralys delicacy.’ He traces a finger down your throat, slowly pulling down your gown a bit, so he may have a look at your breasts. ‘’I wish to taste my wife, properly.’’ He whispers. ‘’You will like it. I promise.’’ He adds, when he sees your worry. ‘’I told you, I would never do anything you would not like, and I meant it.’’ You pant, softly, whimpering as he kisses you again. Aemond opens the door to your bedroom again. You are turned around, your back facing his front as he works on your corset. ‘’Aemond, we have promised we would be there for supper.’’ You tell him, as you hear him breath heavily with anticipation and lust. You wonder if itll feel as pleasant as the first time.

Aemond chuckles, amused. ‘’Have we? I seem to have come down with a terrible headache. I can’t possibly attend.’’ He says, blinking at you. You realize that is him winking. Your dress is finally pulled down, as are your small clothes. Aemond throws his eyepatch on the bed, pushing you next to it. Your hands intertwine as Aemond pulls his pants down, revealing his already erected member. Your head hits the front of a pillow as your husband parts your legs, feeling your wetness and slith. He grins, rubbing your shimmering, wet pearl as you whimper, at his mercy fully. ‘’You were going to attend supper like this? Soaked up, ready for my cock?’’ He whispers in your ear. ‘’Were you hoping I would bend you on the table between two plates of food and gave you a good through nice, warm, fucking?’’ His fingers increase in speed and you notice him smirking as his face becomes closer to your entrance. Eventually, he levels it and you watch as his tongue comes out, taking a good and proper lick of you. You gasp, twist, under his grip and finally you feel pleasure waves hit your body as Aemond feasts upon your body. He moans as well, giving you fuckings with his fingers and licking you at the same time.

You cry out. He grins. He is taunting you. You think. You can taunt him back. You look at his swollen length, wrapping your fingers around it, and start touching it. Aemond growls. You smile, innocently and stop touching him the moment his length nearly jumps, ready with delicious white precum you can’t wait to lick off. Aemond grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you to his face. He kisses you one last time, before you end up on your back. ‘’Do you want this?’’ He asks one final time. You nod. Aemond grabs your legs, leveling himself back inside of you. You sigh in bliss and pleasure as he begins to push. It as if he never truly left. Your hips join in this time, surprising the prince in a pleasant way. ‘’Yes, my wife. Just so.’’ He tells you, kissing your forehead. He picks up the speed, making the movements and what men call ‘’fucking’’ go faster and harder. Your needy cunt is being taunted by his lenght and skill and you would very much like to feel as good as the first time. ‘’Please.’’ You beg soft in his ear.

‘’Pleasuring you is my duty.’’ He whispers back in your ear, before giving you a firm hard trust. You cry out, bucking your hips back. Aemond answers by taking you harder and harder on your back, fucking you so hard that you have tears of pain and pleasure. He keeps going until your soft whimpers become cries and your cries become desperate needy screams. He gives you one final time to beg for it. ‘’Please.’’ You whisper. And then, he gives it his all with a final push, sending you down in a spiral of insanity and pleasure your body can’t really handle. Your body spasms and your mind feels wonderfully blank as all there is your husband, lining himself up at your entrance and emptying his load inside of you. You have come.

‘’Good girl.’’ Aemond whispers, knowing you appreciate that. ‘’So proud.’’ He adds, kissing your sweaty hair. He gently pats your hair. ‘’I think we’ll have some servants bring us some food. As delicious as your cunt was, I can’t survive on it alone.’’ You nod. He smiles, and tucks you in as you are used to. After that, you both have supper in your bed. But the dessert? You already had the dessert. A bit earlier.

Oh, they nasty-

Anyway, thanks for reading along with me!:) Soon we'll see people hang i guess? And everyone's favourite character Fyrand returns! And also, Revaera will meet Daemon, that is sure to be interesting.....Thanks for reading!:))

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goodqueenaly · 4 months ago

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I had a new thought about the Quickfinger story we hear mentioned briefly in “The Sworn Sword”. I had always imagined that Quickfinger was merely trying to steal any (or all) dragon eggs available or accessible to him and give them instead. The benefit to Daemon Blackfyre would have been obvious, I think, in both immediate and potential symbolic power. Only Targaryens (and a very limited number of historical Velaryons) could be given dragon eggs, and only Targaryens (and, again, a small handful of Velaryons) had proven their (assumed) Exceptionalism by riding dragons. Daemon Blackfyre, possessed of a dragon egg or eggs, would now make himself equal to any of his trueborn Targaryen king, just like every other prince born to a Targaryen monarch. What’s more, if he could hatch a dragon, then Daemon might have seen his claim be supremely strengthened: even diehard Targaryen loyalists might have wondered whether the hatching of a dragon for the dragonless Daeron II’s rival meant that the gods had bestowed their favor on the Blackfyres instead.

However, I could see where Quickfinger’s mission - from Daemon Blackfyre himself or a Blackfyre agent - may have been more specific in its intended target (without losing any of that assumed general benefit, of course). We know that the future King Aegon IV was given a dragon egg in infancy, and while we cannot confirm Princess Daena was as well, the fact that her younger sister Elaena had a dragon egg of her own strongly implies, I think, that Daena was given a dragon egg as an infant or young girl. In turn, I wonder whether Quickfinger was sent to obtain not just any Targaryen dragon eggs, but particularly the eggs of Princess Daena and/or King Aegon IV (to the extent either or both were still extant, of course). As far as Daemon Blackfyre may have been concerned, either or both of these eggs were his rightful inheritance, as the only son of his mother and the eldest (acknowledged, legitimated) son of his father. Daemon did not claim the throne in right of his mother, and his would-be regal dynasty was a new political creation rather than a strict continuation of the royal House Targaryen, but Daemon’s appearance and propaganda certainly emphasized his doubly Targaryen heritage. He who had first been held out by Daena as her ostensibly fatherless son, teased as the pseudo-product of Daena’s Targaryen parthenogenesis, was then at 12 acknowledged by Aegon as his own son, in a way almost post facto fathered by Targaryen king (complete with the unsubtle phallic imagery of Aegon IV presumably using the sword Blackfyre to dub Daemon, then passing the sword to him); in turn, as Daemon grew older, "Daemon's friends and supporters often remarked on how much he resembled Aegon the Conquerer", with "all the hallmarks of his house". To receive the dragon egg(s) of one or both of his parents would be perhaps, for Daemon (and again, at least in his own mind and/or the minds of his supporters), to complete that confirmation of his specific Targaryen ancestry: he, unlike the no-good-very-bad Daeron Falseborn, supposedly the unlegitimated bastard of two Targaryens, had every legal right (again, so Daemon might have thought) to the dynastic property of his Targaryen parents - that is, their dragon eggs.

I do also like to parallel this potentially specific thievery with two other moments in Targaryen history. In 48 AC, after young Jaehaerys Targaryen was proclaimed king at Storm’s End, his sister Rhaena “mounted Dreamfyre and flew to join him”, taking with her “Blackfyre, stolen from the king’s own scabbard as he slept”. Just over eight decades later, at the dawn of the Dance of the Dragons, Ser Steffon Darklyn abandoned the new King Aegon II’s Kingsguard and defected to Rhaenyra, and with a small party “brought … a stolen crown: a band of yellow gold ornamented with seven gems of different colors” - that is, “the crown King Viserys had worn, and the Old King Jaehaerys before him”. Whether Daemon intended so or not - and again, we don’t know how much he even knew of, much less orchestrated, the Quickfinger plot - he had, like Jaehaerys and Rhaenyra before him, attempted to benefit from a potent symbol of Targaryen royal authority being stolen from (in the minds of Daemon, as well as Jaehaerys and Rhaenyra, notwithstanding the actual accuracy or inaccuracy in each case) an illegal usurper to be presented to the “rightful” monarch. Just as Rhaena had presented young King Jaehaerys with the sword of his royal grandfather, and Ser Steffon had presented the would-be Queen Rhaenyra with the crown of her royal father and great-grandfather, so now Quickfinger would, as Daemon or his faction may have hoped, present “King” Daemon with the egg or eggs of his father and/or mother, investing him with the symbolic legitimacy of these familial draconic artifacts.

#asoiaf meta #daemon blackfyre #dragons

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lemonhemlock · 2 years ago

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Who do you think should be the ruler in hotd?

I put off answering this because it was the most complex question and, as a result, I'm going to break it into two parts (part II linked here).

I've already posted my thoughts on House Hightower, so my answer will unfold in a similar way: I do not believe House Targaryen should be in charge of the affairs of Westeros (and, no, I do not believe Dany will sit the Iron Throne at the end of the series, but ofc we will only get confirmation once the final book is published).

This issue goes beyond Targaryens being awful people or the system being structurally unfair in the first place, favouring the strong and rich above the majority of population. House Targaryen are proudly descendant from the fallen empire of Valyria, which became as evil a place as you could probably conceptualize within a fictional world, before you write in their inevitable demise by hubris. House Targaryen should and do meet a similar demise in the main series.

Old Valyria was not only a slaver's empire, but they based their entire way of life on horrific blood magic. They intentionally expanded and conquered peaceful societies in order to subject those people to forced labour and human sacrifice rituals to sustain their malignant civilisation. The Great Empire of the Dawn predates Valyria and tells a similar story: of a great and vast society that reached legendary peaks only to fall as a result of corruption and depravity. We are not meant to look at these fallen empires and wax nostalgic over them.

The Targaryens are in no way as repugnantly villainous as their ancestors, but they have not escaped the rot of Old Valyria either. They take pride in being the last Valyrians left and actively look to preserve their Valyrian bloodline, keep to their Valyrian customs as much as possible and set themselves apart from society with their doctrine of exceptionalism and their refusal to assimilate. "People say Targaryens are closer to gods than men".

Incest and polygamy are one thing, but the main issue I would highlight in regard to the Targaryens is their use of dragons. It's easy to overlook because dragons are very popular mythical creatures, look cool AF and represent a very entertaining wish-fulfillment fantasy. But in-universe, dragons are a terrifying weapon of mass destruction that Targaryens use in order to subjugate an entire continent. They represent the worst type of absolutism - the one you can't fight back against because they possess a military weapon that outclasses any other and they can wield it with impunity, without any checks and balances.

The fact that the dragons die at the end of the Dance is a good thing.

After losing their dragons, the Targaryens do not necessarily get any better at ruling. At least now the balance of power with the other great houses is fairer, but the history of the dynasty continues with rebellions (of their own making) and many other questionable reigns. Their last King, Aerys II, commits such appalling abuses of power that the Westerosi lords have no choice but to depose him.

The removal of House Targaryen is not done bloodlessly and without its share of barbarity, but it is not meant to be seen as an unfair usurpation either.

I thought it very fitting that we begin HotD with our two main characters discussing Princess Nymeria finding shelter in Dorne. Alicent is trying to convince Rhaenyra to take the lesson seriously, but she is distracted and playful. She knows the story already, but does not engage with it critically. In that scene, she is merely a girl bored by a historical event she is made to recite from memory.

But we, as the audience, shouldn't discount the symbolism: Rhaenyra the dragonlord is telling Alicent the dragonless about Princess Nymeria and her people fleeing the horrors of dragonfire and extreme violence. She rips the page out. "So you remember."

Alicent will remember and, years later, when she is the one terrified for her own children's lives under Targaryen rule, she sends the page back to Rhaenyra, as a reminder of their childhood friendship. But there is nowhere for Alicent to run and no other way for her to protect herself. She has appropriated dragons for her faction (Aegon's banners hanging behind Otto as he hands Rhaenyra the page) and is now using them as her own deterrent.

Princess Nymeria found shelter in Dorne, but Dorne is not part of Targaryen rule at this moment, even though they abusively include Martell sigils on their emblems of state. Targaryens play by their own rulebook and there is no way to resist them other than controlling them via infiltration or fighting fire with fire. The Greens have failed with the former; now they will try with the latter.

#house of the dragon #asoiaf #house targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd meta #alicent hightower #nymeria of ny sar #ask #anon #house hightower

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god-crazy · 2 years ago

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If Aemond was born a girl, he would never lost an eye

Here again with my cracked brain headcanon ;3

If Aemond were a girl and raised by the same people, he would never lost his eye, this I’m sure. He would even granted the chance not to faced the humiliating pink dread or mocked over for being dragonless by the Strong boys. I know this for a fact. Here’s why.

Started with Rhaena. She’s a Targaryen whose egg didn’t hatched. but the Strong boys never jest her for that, they even seem considerate for her. Even Helaena, she started off being dragonless just like Rhaena and Aemond, but she never is a topic among the boys. They might jest her before she bonded with Dreamfyre considered Aegon’s shite. But the Strong boys? I doubt they would even agree to Aegon bullying girls. Especially Jace. Luke might be too young to be considerate but Jace, I think at the very young age, Jace is a good and kind kid at heart. Plus he’s raised by Rhaenyra. For the very least Jace would talked Aegon out of it like ‘man, don’t bully a lady like that, tis not what a proper gentleman would dooo’

How about Aegon? Sure he’s the bully of the kids and often encourage the jests. But if Aemond were a girl, I bet Alicent would never allow her daughters to go practice sword, lest practice in dragonpit with Aegon and the boys. Least Aegon can do is call her a book-freak or a nerd. Or if there’s a situation where he can jest his youngest sister for being dragonless, Alicent would slap him real hard for sure. (given her being especially softhearted towards Helaena and fellow women.)

Alicent is not Ned Stark or Jon Snow who would let a lady do as she liked. And Aemond is definitely not Arya. First he’s a Targaryen, and dragons are the biggest part that lift up Targaryen from common lords. Cannon Aemond very much obsessed with that. (I think one thing Rhaena and Aemond have in similarity is that they craved acceptance. Rhaena wished Daemon looked and favored her like he did Baela. Aemond wished Viserys looked and acknowledged him as his son. As both of them didn’t have dragons as a Targaryen should.) So I think, even if Aemond were a girl, growing up with Alicent as it is, his core personality would still be a low self-esteem dragonless lonely Targaryen princess who’s not only a dutiful and a people-pleaser but also seeks great acceptance, seeks somewhere to belong.

Given Helaena being dragonless, I think femAemond would strongly bonds with Helaena since she’s also a dragonless Targaryen(before Dreamfyre), fem!Aemond wouldn’t be so lonely as he is a boy. Given (s)he would have an older sister to sympathize with. They would go to dragonpit together and practice with Dreamfyre instead of with Aegon. Fem!Aemond might study history and philosophy and Targaryen lores all day. So I think fem!Aemond might not so familiar with Aegon as she did Helaena, less chance for the pink dread joke. (But still, we never know what could’ve happened and Aegon might finally find a way to pinkdread her anyway)

And fem!Aemond has no one to do anything as so pleased, given Viserys never care for any of Alicent’s kids and Ser Crispy Creme is loyal to Alicent that he would also not allowed the princess to act out of her mom’s words. Swordsmanship is a no for sure. But given his(her) Targaryen traits, Aemond might find a way to practice swordsmanship or do as she like, but more discreetly than openly do so. (But I doubt she would even try to do that since she must be heavily influenced by the Seven(from Alicent) and swordsmanship is not for a woman anyway. But she’s descendant of Visenya so it’s not like it’s impossible.) Although I still believed fem!Aemond would still be dutiful, with or without fighting skills. Since his canon core personality is that he wants to belong, princess Aemond would still try to please her mom anyway. And given Ewan latest interview, Aemond felt any love towards him comes with conditions.

I also believe fem!Aemond would try to bond a dragon anyway,(again, given her Targaryen traits) she might even aimed for Vhagar just as canon, (consider Vhagar is more than just the biggest dragon but also the loneliest and too big to fit in, just like the lonely canon Aemond anyway.) But I think Luke and Jace would never hurt her or at the very least seriously injured her. (given they were raised by The Rhaenyra and The gentleman Ser Harwin cmon).

If she still lost an eye, I think it would be by non of Rhaenyra’s sons. I bet they would even have a crush on her even.🥴 (yes I’m too shippy to let it slide given any chances i can ship bby aemond with the strong boys🤭)

But yep, Aemond was born a boy. Not a girl. So he has the pink dread and has to lost an eye! Uwu >;3

#aemond targaryen #female aemond #aemond one eye targaryen #hotd #what if #lucemond #a little bit #jacemond #too #house of the dragon

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wherethewolfsbaneblooms · 2 years ago

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What if Rhaenyra Targaryen had a baby sister who lived instead of a baby brother who died? What if she fought for the Blacks during the Dance of Dragons?

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WARNING: !!HOTD SPOILERS + MENTIONS OF TARG INCEST (it’s Game of Thrones nobody panic)!!

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Storyline (pre-Dance of Dragons) —

Her name was Saerys Targaryen (SAYR-iss)

Born in 102 AC

Second born daughter to King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Aemma Aryn

Queen Aemma still dies giving birth but Saerys stays healthy and survives

She is 4 years younger than Rhaenyra

Saerys was said to have hair “whiter than moondust”, which earned her the nickname the “Moon Princess” and later “Saerys the Silver”

She grows to be very tall, standing at 6’0. She is the tallest of all her siblings, including the boys

While Rhaenyra was said to be the most beautiful of the sisters, Saerys was often described as “lovely still, but with a ruggedness one can only describe as handsome; the princess’s jawline was sharp as a cutlass and her lilac eyes pierced like Dornish spears.”

Rhaenyra was so devastated over the death of her mother that she didn’t put a dragon egg in her baby sister’s cradle, leaving Saerys dragonless.

Instead, Saerys claimed her great grandfather’s dragon, Vermithor, at the age of 10. Everyone was very surprised to see a renowned dragon such as Vermithor allow a young girl to mount him. Saerys was emboldened by her cousin Laena after she claimed Vhagar, the largest of the living Targaryen dragons.

Rhaenyra and her sister weren’t close at first, but they eventually bonded deeply in their grief and expectations as Saerys grew older. It wasn’t long before they became practically inseparable. While they were not always at the Red Keep together, they always could count on one another.

Saerys very much never felt like she truly belonged. She was never like the other women at the Red Keep; she didn’t want to wear frilly dresses, learn to sew, and never fawned over the young lords. The people of the court saw her similarly; she was the second daughter of the king, worth no more than the political advantage the womb between her hips could gain. She didn’t even feel like a Targaryen for haven’t had a dragon egg put in her cradle. As a little girl, Saerys felt as though there was something wrong with her and that her interests (which were considered to be “for boys”) were wrong. For a long time, Saerys felt alone and blamed herself still for her mothers death. She thought everyone was against her and thus became very defensive in nature. It was only when she and Rhaenyra got a bit older that they started to become friends. Saerys’ first act of confidence was claiming Vermithor.

Saerys grew up feeling guilty for causing her mother’s death. She was always afraid Viserys and Rhaenyra blamed her for killing Aemma. Later, Saerys would also blame herself for starting the war, for if she hasn’t killed Aemma during labor, none of it would’ve happened.

She holds a lot of repressed guilt and self-resentment over her start in life — though no one truly blames her for it, least of all her father. Rhaenyra held some resentment for a time, but slowly came to realize it simply was not Saerys’ fault for being born.

Rhaenyra confides in Saerys a lot after Alicent Hightower marries Viserys and they become very close, though Rhaenyra can be jealous at times towards her sister’s sense of freedom and free will.

Saerys rarely does what she is told if it doesn’t suit her. She will do the exact opposite of what she is told just to spite those who told her to do it *ahem, poor Viserys*

She is profoundly bold in nature, but not stupid; she only takes calculated risks.

As an adult, Saerys is suave, charming, witty, and bold.

Though Viserys had wished for a boy, Saerys quickly became the son he always wanted. She hated lady-like activities and instead begged her father to train with sword and shield. She wanted to learn about politics, study military strategy, and be taught all that a young Prince would. Viserys resisted at first, but eventually allowed it despite the upset he faced amongst his court. He was, in secret, proud. This made Rhaenyra a little jealous, as Rhaenyra was typically viewed as their father’s favorite.

Saerys was always considered to be the more “unhinged” of the two girls. While Rhaenyra was kind and calculating like their father, Saerys reminded the King more of his brother Daemon with her brazen charisma. The sisters gave Viserys and the castle servants a run for their money.

Long before Rhaenyra’s sons (Jacerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey) were born, the Red Keep harbored another parentage scandal: that of Princess Saerys. So like Daemon in appearance and personality, Saerys was insatiably rumored to be his bastard daughter, sired on Queen Aemma in attempt to give Viserys the son he so desperately wanted after her many miscarriages. Some accounts differ on whether or not the encounter was consensual — or if it ever occurred in the first place. Viserys quickly put these rumors to bed after Aemma’s death, but as Saerys grew ever the witty, defiant, and charming girl, the whispers persisted despite his attempts.

It is thought these rumors were seeded by Viserys’ Hand — Otto Hightower — as a way to disinherit Daemon and tarnish his reputation. Daemon denies these claims, but the resemblance between him and Saerys is almost incriminatingly striking.

Otto was never overly fond of Saerys due to her similarities with Daemon. As a young girl, Saerys quickly found that out and made it her life’s mission to bother him as much as possible.

While Rhaenyra grew up closest to her father (something Saerys envied her for), Viserys’ lack of attention led Saerys instead to become very close with Daemon. Daemon always seemed to favor her over Rhaenyra. She has an almost fatherly bond with him, which further fueled the rumors of her parentage.

Daemon loves to gift his nieces. While Rhaenyra gets foreign jewels and necklaces, Daemon would eventually forge Saerys her own, priceless Valyrian Steel Sword made from ore found on his journeys after she gained her knighthood. Saerys names it Moon Wing.

Saerys was trained by Daemon (with Viserys’ permission) in swordsmanship, mounted combat, dragon riding, and the histories of Old Valyria (which fascinated her). This caused a lot of controversy in the Red Keep. Never before had a woman been taught “men’s work”, but Viserys merely wanted his daughter to be happy. Saerys also harbored a deep sense of old tradition because of Daemon’s teachings, whereas Rhaenyra did not like history and called it “boring old stuff”.

Fittingly, Saerys is obsessed with dragons and loves to learn about them; she has a theorized dragon genealogy chart on her desk.

Saerys is a decent artist and sketches her sister and the dragons in her free time.

She seems like bad news at first glance, but when you get to know her, she actually has a very kind/gentle nature and is fiercely protective of those she cares for. Sometimes to the extreme and will not hesitate to choose violence.

Though free in spirit, Saerys has a strong sense of duty. She seems morally grey a majority of the time, but usually does the right thing in the end.

She is the first woman to become a knight of the seven kingdoms at the age of 16. After her knighthood, Saerys was sometimes referred to as “Saerys the Silver”. When Saerys competed in her first tourney, she was harassed by four of the male knights who taunted her for being a woman in a “man’s sport”. When the King heard of this, he ordered the four knights to have their tongues cut from their mouths, but Saerys stopped him. She insisted on fighting them fairly in combat. Though he was hesitant, Viserys agreed. Saerys ended up winning the tourney; one of the knights yielded to her, two were severely injured, and the last was killed in combat. Saerys was never bothered at a tourney again.

Daemon once said of Saerys (to Viserys) “that girl fights with dragon fire in her blood; she will eat her lord husband’s heart and spit it out should you marry her away”.

Saerys grew up with a dislike for Ser Criston Cole for “reasons”. When asked, she would oft describe him as a “self-righteous twit”. It is unknown what caused their animosity, but most say it started after Rhaenyra’s rumored sexual encounter with him.

Saerys, while she loved Rhaenyra unconditionally, would often roll her eyes at the latter’s romantic adventures in a way not only a sister would, but perhaps in a way one might describe as jealousy. Jealousy of what is unknown.

When Aemond claims Vhagar in 126 AC and the squabble between he and Lucerys begins following the death of Laena Velaryon, it was a 24 year old Saerys who intervened to protect her cousins and nephews from him. Lucerys was ultimately blamed for maiming Aemond’s eye, but rumors say it was actually Saerys.

Afterwards, Saerys sported a straight, thick scar across her upper and bottom lip. She never reveals how she received it but says “she will never let anyone get that close to her again”.

Overall, Saerys is “eh” with her half-siblings. Her least favorite by far is Aegon. She thinks Aemond is a pain in the ass crybaby who’s desperate for attention, but she at least respects him a hair more (which is still not a lot) than the whoring Aegon. To her, Helaena is a strange but kind soul. Daeron is her favorite. Saerys doesn’t appreciate Alicent dressing them all in green, however. She says “green taints the blood of Old Valyria”. Saerys even laughed and said they looked like “flocked toads” once when Alicent and her half siblings posed together in emerald threads for a painting.

Saerys was originally betrothed to her half-brother Aegon, who was four years her younger, when she was a teenager till the princess grew up to despise him and proved too much for the boy to handle. Aegon was then betrothed to Helaena instead.

Aegon always picked fights with Saerys like the rotten little shit he is. Saerys has absolutely no time for him and grows up to despise him even more for his alcoholic behavior, constant womanizing, and overarching laziness. She even threatened to castrate him (and she meant it too) on one occasion when she caught wind that he’d sired several dozen bastards on the brothel women of the Street of Silk. But, instead of cutting his balls off, she broke his nose. The fight had to be broken up by the Kingsguard.

Alicent was furious to learn Saerys attacked Aegon. However, when she found out why, Alicent almost allowed the Kingsguard to step aside so Saerys could go back to hitting him.

Viserys thought Aegon deserved a reality check for the shame he brought upon himself, Helaena, and their children. As a king, Viserys was forced to scold Saerys in public, but in private she received a pat on the back for dishing out punishment to Aegon that was well deserved.

Saerys finds her half sister Helaena to be a bit of an enigma but likes talking to her in and listening to her riddles. Saerys has an ongoing game with herself on how long it takes for her to become confused while speaking to her half-sister.

Saerys enjoys playing with Aegon and Helaena’s twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera (her niece and nephew), since Aegon is an absent father for the most part. It also pisses Aemond off for a reason Saerys can only speculate and she enjoys getting under his skin just to watch him squirm. Aemond doesn’t appreciate Saerys interacting with the twins but refuses to speak up about it. Whether it is out of fear or respect for Saerys no one is sure.

Saerys constantly fought with Aemond due to his inherent need to prove his metal to her. He always loses their duels. Aemond always secretly looked up to Saerys, but never showed it in the right ways. Instead he came off like a jerk. Sometimes him and Aegon would team up against Saerys, but even as a duo, they still never won against her.

Aside from Rhaenyra, Saerys is closest to her half brother Daeron despite their twelve year age difference. Daeron looks up to Saerys and idolizes her. He wants to become a knight just like her. Saerys sees a gentleness, kindness, and honorability in him that Aegon and Aemond don’t have. Him and Saerys are often seen training in the yard together or training on horseback. When Tessarion was large enough enough to mount, Saerys even took Daeron flying and taught him the basics of dragon riding like Daemon did for her. She calls him Squirt a lot and fluffs his hair.

Saerys is very close with her cousin, the Princess Rhaenys, and refers to her as “Auntie Rhaenys”. Saerys visited Rhaenys and Lord Corlys on Driftmark often. Saerys, Rhaenys, and Laenor would often fly on dragonback together. Rhaenys was like a mother figure to her growing up and Saerys often spent time with her on Driftmark in her teen years after Laenor married Rhaenyra.

Later on, Saerys is the only one who knew the real truth of Rhaenyra’s son’s parentage and will take the secret to her grave. She understood Rhaenyra and Laenor’s marital situation on a personal level, but she also gave Rhaenyra an earful for threatening her position as heir to the Iron Throne by having children out of wedlock with Ser Harwin Strong instead of Laenor. Saerys, however, does comfort Rhaenyra in her grief when Harwin is killed in the fire at Harrenhal and then again when both Laena and Laenor are killed.

Saerys is henceforth fiercely protective over her nephews. No one dared to call them bastards in her presence, no matter what, lest they face the steel of her blade. She once sliced an ear off the son of a petty lord for not telling her where he heard such a thing after he uttered the insult.

Viserys was outwardly not happy, but inwardly a very proud father. He had to scold her (but he really didn’t).

A rumored “lover of the fairer sex”, Saerys was said to have zero interest in any of her lord father’s choices for her in a husband, which is why she went unmarried and childless by the start of the Dance of Dragons. Having endured more than enough with the fight Rhaenyra gave him on marriage, Viserys all but gave up with his second daughter. Some also say Saerys had seduced nearly all the ladies at court, aside from Queen Alicent Hightower (though some say she tried) by age 20.

Rhaenyra supported Saerys’ sexual/romantic appetites 100%. Rumors were Rhaenyra enjoyed the company of both sexes. Rumors also said in the past Rhaenyra had the buddings of a relationship with the (then) Lady Alicent before the latter was married to the king.

Since then, Saerys filled the gap Alicent left in Rhaenyra’s life and took that role very seriously.

After Laenor’s passing, Saerys was left in the dark on Rhaenyra’s and Daemon wedding. Her sister never spoke a work to Saerys about it. Still grieving the loss of both her cousins, Saerys stayed on Driftmark for several months following Laena’s (who had been married to her Uncle Daemon before her death during childbirth) and Laenor’s “death” to help her Auntie Rhaenys. When word came of Rhaenyra’s wedding to their uncle, Saerys had already flown back to the Red Keep. She received such news bitterly. Originally, Saerys was furious with Rhaenyra, thinking her stupid for doing such a thing while knowing their father would not be happy about the union. Even more so, she felt betrayed. Saerys did not discount the idea that Rhaenyra would be disinherited by their father, which would mean she’d be next in line for the throne. Saerys was also, almost more so, furious that her sister did not tell her about the wedding prior.

Daemon and Rhaenyra’s marriage sparked a conversation between Saerys and King Viserys that they might not of had, had it not happened. It happened the night the raven came announcing the news. Viserys called Saerys to his study and sat her down. He was weak, frail, and growing more and more feeble by the day with a growing sickness. It is said they spoke well into the night. What they spoke of one could only wonder, but it was speculated the king told his second daughter that he wished to make her his heir. Whispers in the Red Keep (who’s origins are unknown) would say Viserys named Saerys the “heir of dreams” that night. From then on, Saerys would sometimes be called, in hushed voices, the “Princess of Dreams”.

Nothing changed, but after that, Saerys seemed more at peace with herself. No one could understand why, nor knew what happened, other than the Princess carried herself with a sense of self-knowledge rather than bitterness henceforth.

The next day, Saerys flew to Dragonstone on Vermithor to confront Rhaenyra. Daemon attempted to intercept a furious Saerys, which resulted in surprise for onlookers. Saerys drew her weapon against her uncle, the very sword he’d forged for her, and gave Daemon no choice but to draw his. As a result, Vermithor and Caraxes stirred on either end of the Dragonbridge, each dragon coming to the defense of their rider. Eventually, Daemon yielded (though onlookers accounted that it was Saerys who disarmed him) and Saerys entered Dragonstone without further resistance. But that was only the beginning.

When the sisters confronted each other, it was said their shouts could be heard all the way up on the Dragonmont and reminded the castle servants and lesser lords of “two great dragons roaring”. Although, some said it sounded more like a quarrel between lovers rather than of sisters. Eventually, Saerys stormed out of the castle and took flight on Vermithor toward the Red Keep. Some accounts say Rhaenyra ran after Saerys following their immense fight and begged her to stay. However, others recall that the Princess Rhaenyra shed a tear at the furious departure of her sister but moved not an inch.

Henceforth, the monumental argument would be dubbed by nobility the “Battle of Gold and Bronze” for the colors of Vermithor and Syrax — the mounts of each Targaryen princess. The sisters would not see or speak to each other again for over two years.

After this, it was thought Saerys would not support her sister’s claim. Some even thought Saerys would challenge Rhaenyra for the throne or that Viserys might finally change his decision on who his heir would be. Saerys, however, never spoke ill of Rhaenyra. In fact, she hardly spoke of her at all.

Afterward, Saerys was said to have a reoccurring fling with the daughter of a lord at the Red Keep. Some say it was casual while others say the princess would have taken the girl to wed had she the means to. Rumors say this girl was Lady Fell’s daughter, Amelia.

The Red Keep seemed at peace for a time, settled between Driftmark and Dragonstone, where House Targaryen found family on each. But it was less like peace and more like a hollow stillness. Rhaenyra and Daemon welcomed two sons and were expecting a third child on the way. Saerys, betrayed by both of the two people closest to her, lost herself in books and in steel. There was a rigid calmness that shrouded House Targaryen. The nights drew blacker and the days became greener, but King Viserys grew sicker by the passing of each. The Dance of the Dragons was near.

Part two will be on Saerys and Vermithor’s impact on the Dance of Dragons

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fromtheboundlesssea · 2 years ago

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For the current poll!

“Might we not run, my princess?” he asked, his brow pressed against her hair. His warm breath fanned across her neck like a summer breeze. He held her hand to his heart as though it were a precious jewel. “I shall take you to the godswood and we shall swear ourselves to one another so that no man might part us.”

“It would be no man,” she whispered. “But a dragon.” Her bloodied fingers smeared against the black of his jerkin, swallowing the red into its darkness until none could be found. “And you are a Stark. You swore yourself to my cousin when you took your father’s seat. Do not ask that I forsake my family and the vows made to them when I know you cannot forswear yours.”

“But I could,” his voice an urgent prayer. “I could forswear them for you.”

“But would you remain the man I love if you did?”

“I shall ask nothing of you, cousin,” she said as he held her hand before him, the marred flesh laid bare before his violet gaze. Trueborn Targaryens who had found themselves misplaced in the affections of their father had found themselves bound in a twisted game of fire and blood. “Save for the crown I shall place upon your head. And in return, I promise to give you trueborn sons that might carry on the beloved name the gods have cursed us with.”

“And what shall you give me beyond a crown, sweet cousin?” he asked, licking his lips and pressing them against her bloodied fingertips. “What could you offer me that any other lady might swear? I cannot be loyal. It is not in my blood to deny love that might come my way. Will you promise me tearless duty and swallowed honor all for a name and crown we so despise?”

“We are Targaryens, Aegon,” she said. “Should the fires come, we will not burn. And what children I give you shall be so unlike any Targaryen before.”

“You love your brother, do you not?” he asked, blue eyes as cold as a dragonless sky. “So too do I love my brothers and sisters. Love the storms born from the fire and blood of your house. I shall not ask that our union bring peace—for it is not possible now. Blood has been spilt already. There is a storm upon the wind and we might at least withhold its fury. Just as the Starks whisper of winter coming, might we not brave the winds and guide them towards a less bloody path?”

“And would you ask that I break bread with the boy who took my brother’s eye? With the woman who has broken my mother’s heart with betrayal upon betrayal? What loyalty is there when I cannot trust loyalty in return?” Her fingers were bloody already. What peace could be made with bloody hands?

He pulled her close and Celia felt the storm of his breath curl the ends of the hair that framed her cheeks. “Use me, fair Celia. Use me to your content and weave your whispers and betrayals. For I shall attempt to undo everyone with love and worship upon the alter of your lips.”

#wildfire and blood #snippet

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horizon-verizon · 2 years ago

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The cruelty of children is known to all. Prince Aegon Targaryen was thirteen, Princess Helaena eleven, Prince Aemond ten, and Prince Daeron six. Both Aegon and Helaena were dragonriders. Helaena now flew Dreamfyre, the she-dragon who had once carried Rhaena, Maegor the Cruel’s “Black Bride,” whilst her brother Aegon’s young Sunfyre was said to be the most beautiful dragon ever seen upon the earth. Even Prince Daeron had a dragon, a lovely blue she-dragon named Tessarion, though he had yet to ride. Only the middle son, Prince Aemond, remained dragonless, but His Grace had hopes of rectifying that, and had put forward the notion that perhaps the court might sojourn at Dragonstone after the funeral. A wealth of dragon’s eggs could be found beneath the Dragonmont, and several young hatchlings as well. Prince Aemond could have his choice, “if the lad is bold enough." Even at ten, Aemond Targaryen did not lack for boldness. The king’s gibe stung, and he resolved not to wait for Dragonstone. What did he want with some puny hatchling, or some stupid egg? Right there at High Tide was a dragon worthy of him: Vhagar, the oldest, largest, most terrible dragon in the world. Even for a son of House Targaryen, there are always dangers in approaching a dragon, particularly an old, bad-tempered dragon who has recently lost her rider. His father and mother would never allow him to go near Vhagar, Aemond knew, much less try to ride her. So he made certain they did not know, sliding from his bed at dawn whilst they still slept and stealing down to the outer yard where Vhagar and the other dragons were fed and stabled. The prince had hoped to mount Vhagar in secrecy, but as he crept up to the dragon a boy’s voice rang out. “You stay away from her!” The voice belonged to the youngest of his half-nephews, Joffrey Velaryon, a boy of three. Always an early riser, Joff had sneaked down from his bed to see his own young dragon, Tyraxes. Afraid that the boy would raise the alarm, Prince Aemond shouted at him to be quiet, then shoved him backward into a pile of dragon droppings. As Joff began to bawl, Aemond raced to Vhagar and clambered up onto her back. Later he would say that he was so afraid of being caught that he forgot to be frightened of being burned to death and eaten. Call it boldness, call it madness, call it fortune or the will of the gods or the caprice of dragons. Who can know the mind of such a beast? We do know this: Vhagar roared, lurched to her feet, shook violently...then snapped her chains and flew. And the boy prince Aemond Targaryen became a dragonrider, circling twice around the towers of High Tide before coming down again. But when he landed, Rhaenyra’s sons were waiting for him. Joffrey had run to get his brothers when Aemond took to the sky, and both Jace and Luke had come to his call. The Velaryon princelings were younger than Aemond—Jace was six, Luke five, Joff only three— but there were three of them, and they had armed themselves with wooden swords from the training yard. Now they fell on him with a fury. Aemond fought back, breaking Luke’s nose with a punch, then wrenching the sword from Joff’s hands and cracking it across the back of Jace’s head, driving him to his knees. As the younger boys scrambled back away from him, bloody and bruised, the prince began to mock them, laughing and calling them “the Strongs.” Jace at least was old enough to grasp the insult. He flew at Aemond once again, but the older boy began pummeling him savagely...until Luke, coming to the rescue of his brother, drew his dagger and slashed Aemond across the face, taking out his right eye. By the time the stableboys finally arrived to pull apart the combatants, the prince was writhing on the ground, howling in pain, and Vhagar was roaring as well.

Fire and Blood, by George R.R. Martin, pg 380-381 [Long Version/“Full” Account of the Claiming of Vhagar]

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sxmmander · 2 years ago

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These Violent Acts CH 04 - House of the Dragon fic

THESE VIOLENT ACTS CHAPTER 04 | THE MOVEMENTS OF DRAGONS

Previous Next

They would bow. She would make them bow.

Naenya had been young and foolish when she first claimed her dragon. The egg that had been given to her as a babe had never hatched, leaving the eldest daughter of the King as much of a Targaryen as her mother was. Young Naenya had always been rather attentive, noticing the way people treated her baby sister, the soon-to-be dragon rider, in comparison to her, the dragonless babe. It was when the girl was a mere five years old that she realised what was occurring around her, and at the age of six, she decided to do something about it.

Her mother had taken the two girls to Dragonstone, where her uncle Daemon resided, while their father visited the Velaryons on important business about the stepstones. Aemma, pregnant with another child that was never to be born, was too tired to keep up with the energetic girls and so asked Daemon to look after them as she rested. Daemon, a man who only respected the power of the dragon, placed all his attention on the toddler Rhaenyra and the small dragon she had with her and left Naenya to herself.

The young princess had wandered out of the castle and onto the moors of Dragonstone with a single guard's notice. After all, who would care about a Targaryen that didn't have a dragon? Her short, stubby legs had moved her toward the less travelled areas of Dragonstone. The areas that held the wild, untamable dragons. She had seen Grey Ghost first, giggling at its silver colouring. She had gotten close to it before the dragon noticed the young princess and promptly took flight to get as far from any human as possible.

The young princess had pouted, watching the dragon disappear among the clouds, much like the ghosts it was named after. Young Naenya was unwavering, though, continuing her search for more dragons to befriend.

After a while of walking, her bare feet becoming increasingly muddied after her decision to walk off the paths and search elsewhere, she came face-to-face with a new dragon.

Cannibal lay before her, fast asleep. The dragon was of magnificent size, but it was his colour that made the girl starry-eyed. He was black as coal, not a single mark of colour on him. Had Naenya walked the area at nighttime, she was sure she wouldn't have seen the large dragon. While Naenya had always been a girl who enjoyed bright and vibrant colours, she couldn't help but be amazed by the pure abyss of the dragon in front of her. She'd never seen such a dark colour before, never worn anything close to darkened versions of the vibrant colours she was so used to, yet this dragon wore them perfectly. As though nothing else would be able to suit him.

The girl, overcome with awe at the dragon, walked closer to the dragon. A single menacing green eye flew open as the girl placed her hand on one of the dragon's claws.

Cannibal was one of three wild dragons that found a home in Dragonstone. Had it not been for the Cannibal's preference for food, there may well have been many more dragons. Cannibal, having been around since Balerion the black dread himself, had never been claimed by a dragon rider. The world-eater had quickly devoured every Targaryen foolish enough to try.

Yet, here stood a girl of only six, completely unharmed. In the meantime, at least.

The devourer had watched the young girl with such intensity it could have burned through a lesser man. Naenya, however, simply stared back with a toothy smile. Perhaps it was her age that interested the dragon, no one of her age had ever come close to the dragon before. Perhaps it was mere shock that such a child would even try such a thing that saved Naenya in those beginning moments.

The young girl, completely unaware of the danger she had placed herself in, sat beside the dragon and let out a loud yawn, "Ēdrugon,"

As it turned to dawn the next morning, a group of guards accompanied by Aemma and the newly arrived Viserys Targaryen were out searching for the lost princess. Noticing the slumbering Cannibal, Aemma burst into tears, assuming the worst. Viserys, drawing his dragonglass dagger, shakily approached the mighty dragon. The dragon turned in its slumber, its wing moving to reveal the young princess curled beside it.

At that moment, Naenya had claimed her own dragon.

Still, Cannibal was as elusive as ever. Cannibal was unable to be coaxed into the dragon pit by the dragon keepers, and, despite choosing a rider for himself, he was still a wild dragon at heart. He would soar the sky, free as ever, and return to Dragonstone to find his food, only ever returning to Naenya when he knew she needed him. As Cannibal's dragon rider, the two held a close bond that allowed Cannibal to know when Naenya was calling for him. Naenya, the ever-understanding princess, hardly ever did so and instead allowed Cannibal the freedom he so loved - with many believing that if Naenya was not like this, Cannibal would likely have gotten bored and killed his own rider.

Naenyna hardly rode Cannibal, let alone let someone else join her for a ride. However, she needed her faithful companion to take her to her first stop on her journey. She was to begin her tour in the furthest region of Westeros. She would ride to the North and continue South until she returned home. And, since all the Lords and their trusted guards were leaving at the same time as her, she had offered Lord Stark a ride back to Winterfell with her. She had taken a very risky decision, considering Cannibal was still as interested as ever in eating humans and animals alike, but luckily Cannibal had listened to his rider and brought both the young woman and the older man to their desired location.

On dragonback, every journey is far shorter than it would've been otherwise. It was one of Naenya's favourite parts of having a dragon. Travelling by carriage for months did not do her good.

Naenya could feel Lord Rickon's hands tighten around her waist as they soared past the villages closest to Winterfell.

Their landing was rough, the mighty devourer letting out a roar as it lowered itself to the ground to let Naenya and Lord Rickon off his back. Naenya jumped first, offering her hand to Lord Rickon to help him down.

"Are you feeling alright, Lord Rickon?" Naenya asked as Cannibal shook his body free of the humans and took off into the sky.

"Flying may not be for me," Lord Rickon groaned, pausing to hold his stomach as he waited for a wave of nausea to leave him.

Naenya nodded, taking the time to look around the courtyard. The entire area was clothed in a soft layer of snow, though none of the inhabitants seemed to notice. Turning in a circle, she tried to take in the entirety of the formidable castle around her. It was nothing like Kings Landing. It was stripped bare of all the fanciful detailing that the Red Keep used to lure people in. Instead, Winterfell stood plain and strong, only there to allow in those that seek it.

"We are humbled that you would come all the way to the North to see us," Lord Stark's wife, Gilliane Glover, lowered her head, "I hope we can make you feel adequately at home,"

Gilliane Glover was only slightly younger than Lord Rickon, but her face made her look that much more youthful. It held creases that indicated she had lived a life of laughter and merriment, and the twinkle in her eyes gave the impression Gilliane was a Lady who was happy to share that life with others.

Lord Stark had found his way beside his wife, following her movements along with the maester, the master-of-arms among others that formed the lineup of people to greet her. Casting her gaze over the group, she noticed the lack of children.

"Thank you, Lady Stark. I am most excited to see Winterfell and learn what its inhabitants have to teach me," Naenya smiled, glancing around, "Would I be able to ask for a tour of your lovely home?"

— — — —

Naenya had found her way to the Godswood after the feast, where she was able to converse with many of the other houses of the North, wishing to use the time to think through her plans. Her handmaids and guards were to meet her at her next stop, the Vale, so she relied on Winterfell's resources for the time being. The choice to fly via dragonback had been one she made to prevent the time that she spent away from home from extending significantly longer due to travel, but it also prevented her from having her loyal companions with her to converse with in the beginning. She couldn't fit everyone she wanted on her dragon. Cannibal likely would've thrown them all into the ocean if she had tried that.

Naenya sighed, sitting on a flattened rock as she stared at the tree that wept before her. She knew she should have been grateful that she was only alone for her time in the North. It would be her easiest trip by far. There had never been a Stark alive that would dare to break an oath. As soon as Rickon Stark bent the knee, she had successfully gained the loyalty of the North. It was the only kingdom she was sure of when it came to undying loyalty.

Still, it was the first time she had ever been without her family, and it truly scared her.

"I have to say, the weirwood tree in the Red Keep left much to be desired," Lord Rickon spoke from the shadows, walking towards her, "I much prefer ours,"

"It is awfully mighty," Naenya gave a polite smile, shifting slightly to allow Rickon a seat.

"You did well in the feast. Your father ought to be proud," Rickon said, never one to let things go over his head, "But you needn't worry when it comes to the North. We will back our Targaryen Queen until our death. We made a promise to you, a promise we will keep,"

Naenya nodded, an actual smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Perhaps she did have someone to confide in.

"Thank you, your words mean a great deal to me. Truly," Naenya said, turning to see Rickon more clearly, "But it's only going to get harder from here. Do you have any advice you could give me? As an old man who's seen lots in his life?"

Rickon let out a fatherly laugh, slapping Naenya on the back. The blow caused her to jolt slightly, but she did her best to maintain her posture.

"The first thing I'd say is don't trust someone's words just cause they're an old man who's seen a lot. Old men like me get stuck in our ways sometimes. New blood is always needed," Rickon grinned, staring into the face of the weirwood tree, "But I'm sure an old man like me might have some useful tips,"

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #hotd aegon #hotd helaena #hotd aemond #aemond #princess rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenys velaryon #daemon targeryan #jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon lucerys #alicent hightower

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lupuslikethewolf · 1 year ago

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@k-michaelis in response to your tags:

the reason daemon ‘acts out’, at least in my interpretation of both the show and the text, is because he has spent his life trying to do his best by his brother - eg, raising an army at 20 to defend viserys’ claim, arming and training the city watch, fighting against the crabfeeder - with his only request being to annul the marriage to rhea royce, stay in king’s landing and (in the show, not clear in the books) marry rhaenyra. viserys grants him none of those requests, and instead banishes deamon for two of those three acts. and it ultimately ends with viserys rescinding the banishment and/or agreeing to back the war because daemon was right to do so in the first place.

you are right, viserys wants things to look orderly, but they really arent, and he ends up as a pretty ineffective king, having caused two major wars (stepstones, dance).

it is the king’s responsibility to prevent warfare or - if war becomes inevitable, which it did - to fight against it. daemon did that in viserys’ name, and viserys punished him for it.

on the note of ‘targaryen daughter syndrome’ of course daemon has it much better than most of the targaryen queens/princesses, but that doesn’t take away from the many many parallels, including: the fact that most of the targ daughters were the ones also labelled as rebellious (laena, daena, visenya, alyssa (his mother), viserra (his aunt)), alyssane forcing his marriage, being the monarch’s ‘consort’, wielding Dark Sister, etc etc.

also, on a different note, how is viserys (dragonless) supposed to control daemon (rider of a war dragon) anyway? mf could easily just hop on ceraxes and fuck off back to essos, which he does multiple times during the banishments.

and yes, in the show they whitewash aemond’s character and the circumstances of how he claimed vhagar, and it ended with viserys acting as a neglectful father to aemond “the most” (which, really, only furthers the idea of him also being a neglectful brother), but in the books he is not. at least, not until the illness sets in, but even then he spends time with at least helaena and her children.

in the book, aemond at ten, started a fight with kids aged three, five and six, and even started to ‘beat jacaerys savagely’ at which point lucerys slashed his eye in defence of his brother. everything that happened were the consequences of aemond’s own actions, and viserys only questioned where he heard the bastardry rumours.

now ofc you are allowed you’re own opinions and interpretations, tbh you’re tags just gave me the perfect reason to elaborate and talk about one of my fave targaryens lmao i cant stop thinking about him

something something daemon was sixteen when alyssane made him marry something something he was uprooted from his home and forced to live in an entirely new kingdom with someone he hated and who hated him back something something every time he did something that viserys didn't like he was kicked out of the only home he had and sent away something something daemon fought for viserys but viserys never fought for daemon something something daemon has targaryen daughter syndrome

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aemonds-sapphire · 2 years ago

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Reassurance

Summary: You give birth to Aemond’s daughter, and immediately worry as a male heir is always preferred. But it seems that you might have underestimated the man you were married to.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff. Comfort. Aemond showing how attentive he can be.

Word count: 1k

Warm tears streamed down your flushed face when Aemond finally walked into the quarters. The handmaidens hurried around you, cleaning and whispering words of comfort at you and the babe.

But your tears weren’t of pain. Not for the most part, at least.

“It is a girl, my prince,” one of them informed him with a bow. “As healthy as can be.”

You looked away before you could witness his reaction.

Disappointment, most likely.

Male heirs brought safety and stability. Should Aemond ever need to replace his brother on the iron throne, it’d be best if he had one.

The other handmaiden brought a rag damp in hot water to brush away the sweat, as you tended to the child in your arms who’d squirm and cry out occasionally as she settled into this new world

Aemond came to sit by your side, but you kept your head low, not wanting to face him.

“Are you well?” He whispered, placing one hand on your arm.

Nodding, you kept on rocking the child, not trusting yourself to utter any words.

Queen Alicent came walking in shortly, bearing the kind smile you had grown accustomed to.

“My sweet girl, you did so well,” she hurried to your side, placing a tender kiss on your forehead before shifting the attention to her granddaughter. “Oh, she is so beautiful… Aemond, take a look.”

Your husband shifted closer to finally meet his daughter, and you felt your heart clench.

“She has your hair colour,” the Queen’s smile deepened at the sight of thin and unruly silver hair.

Aemond nodded, eyes fixed on the wriggling babe in your arms. “The blood of the dragon is strong.”

His mother then leaned to peck his cheek. “I’m so happy for both of you. There’s no bigger blessing than a child.”

You met her eyes and bowed your head lightly, genuinely appreciating her words of kindness.

Gods know you’d need them.

“I’ve arranged for the dragonkeepers to bring an egg to be placed in her cradle,” she whispered, caressing your hand with hers, but you noticed his expression shifted. “I will now leave you two to it.”

He, too, had once had a dragon egg keeping him company, but nothing had come of it. The egg never hatched, and Aemond Targaryen was to remain dragonless for years to come.

With a tender squeeze and final look at your daughter, Queen Alicent took her leave.

Aemond’s eye was still fixed on the tiny bundle of cloth with turfs of silver hair at the top.

“Do you want to hold her?”

He seemed unsure at first, but nodded, taking his daughter into his arms.

You had managed to lull her into calmness, but she soon broke out crying, bringing two restless arms to break free from the cloth.

“Hmm,” he said, wincing lightly from the shriekd. “You are definitely a dragon.”

At this, you couldn’t hold back the grin on your face. “She’s perfect…”

“My prince, the babe is hungry. Should I fetch the wet nurse?”

Aemond lifted his arms to her, but you halted him with one hand. “No… actually, I would like to… try…”

The young girl bowed nervously. “Of course, my lady. Allow me to help the babe to latch properly,” she offered, taking the young princess from Aemond’s grasp and placing her to your chest.

Aemond promptly aided in lowering the chemise, and you felt your heart soar from such attentiveness.

The moment your daughter latched, the young handmaiden smiled widely. “It is a good latch, your grace.”

You two sat in silence for a while, until you were finally able to muster the courage to speak.

“I apologise, my prince…”

Aemond’s eye lifted from the babe and landed on you. “What for?”

“I’m sure you expected a boy.”

He sat upright, seemingly taken aback. “Do you think that lowly of me?” he said in a strained voice. “She is blood of my blood.”

Your heart clenched. “I…”

Aemond wasn’t one to show emotions as easily as others. He’d rather bury all them them deep.

You were aware of this, but you’d seen your fair share of men throwing fits over having only daughters.

“You gave her to me,” he carried on. “Whatever you can give me, I will willingly take and protect.”

There were subtle traces of hurt on his face, and you felt the dread of guilt wash over you.

“Aemond…”

He shifted closer to you, taking a damp cloth to your forehead. “You have my utmost respect for giving birth to my daughter. Our daughter,” he quickly added.

Your heart hammered rapidly against your rib cage from the many emotions that took over you.

This time, your tears were of pure relief.

“You still need to choose a name,” you said in between sobs, clutching your daughter closer to you.

He shook his head, before planting a kiss to your lips. “We. We do this together.”

Aemond Targaryen might have grown up without the love and affection from his father, but your daughter would not share the same fate.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fluff #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen

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asykriel · 2 years ago

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Love is the Death of Duty - Prologue

® do not repost or translate !

☆ Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Male! Targaryen OC

☆ Status: Ongoing

☆ Summary:

“He is half of my heart.”

War made monsters of them all, but it also brought the two second sons together in a flurry of death, love, deceit and delusion. The story of Aemond Targaryen and the eldest son of Daemon and Rhaenyra, Maegor Targaryen, second of his name.

☆ Warnings: Sexual content, explicit violence, dark themes, targcest etc.

☆ AO3 ☆ || ☆ Wattpad ☆

☆ CHAPTERS: (Prologue) / ( 1 ) / ( 2 ) / ( 3 ) / ( 4 ) / ( 5 ) / ( 6 ) / ( 7 ) / ( 8 ) / ( 9 ) / ( 10 ) / ( 11 ) / ( 12 ) / ( 13 ) / ( 14 ) / ( 15 ) / (16 from now on upcoming chaps only on- AO3 || Wattpad )

☆ Masterlist ☆ || ☆ Spotify Playlist ☆

➸ Next part

PROLOGUE

The birth of Rhaenyra's second son occurred two years following the arrival of Jacaerys Velaryon. It was a turbulent labor, a terrible storm raged outside the Red Keep, rain poured loudly, and the wind howled within its walls.

Despite the difficult childbirth, the babe arrived amidst the tempest, bringing some relief to the rumors circulating among common folk and nobility, rumors that had cast doubt on Jacaerys's legitimacy and him being a Strong bastard. At least until Rhaenyra gave birth to two more sons, Lucerys and Joffrey. Even Queen Alicent Hightower felt reassured when she first laid eyes on the child, seeing tufts of silver and bright eyes, allaying any concern about dark hair.

Maegor Velaryon, bore pure Targaryen features, so much so that new rumors were stirring as time slowly passed and he grew into a fine young boy. As he grew, whispers circulated anew, suggesting that he might be the illegitimate offspring of an affair between Daemon Targaryen and Rhaenyra. He bore a striking resemblance to the Rogue Prince, with one notable exception - his heterochromatic eyes. His right eye was lilac, while his left was cornflower blue.

Unlike the Cruel tyrant he was named after, Maegor was was a quiet, studious child, displaying a penchant for knowledge and swordplay. He was often considered a shy loner, persistently hounded by his brothers for declining to join their antics and pranks. Yet beneath his composed exterior, a driven character simmered, accompanied by something darker lurking behind his mesmerizing eyes.

Despite his remarkable qualities, the brilliant Prince, as the maesters affectionately dubbed him, had not yet bonded with a dragon. Like his uncle Aemond, he was frequently taunted about this by his brothers and older uncle Aegon. He had received his first dragon egg, but it failed to hatch, and the second egg rotted away. Maegor chose not to request another egg, preferring to remain dragonless rather than face further disappointment.

In their childhood, the children of Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent shared a degree of closeness, growing up together, studying together, and training together. However, this fragile bond was shattered as quickly.

The day Laena Velaryon died and both families gathered to Driftmark to pay their homage to her was the day Aemond Targaryen claimed her former dragon and lost his left eye to Lucerys Velaryon marking the fraying of whatever fragile bond was left between the two family branches.

It was also the day Maegor met Daemon Targaryen, forever changing his life.

The young Princeling never took part in the squabble that turned violent. He was in bed staying up late to read a book like he always did, in the light of a candle. It was only when he started hearing incoherent shouting that he let his curiosity get the best of him and led him into the Hall of Nine where he saw his two brothers, Lucerys and Jacaerys all bruised up, fearfully hiding behind their mother and Aemond's bloody and mutilated face who was holding a defiant gaze towards them, seemingly unbothered by the pain of having his eye sliced out and the wound stitched up.

"It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon." Aemond said proudly.

Something awoke inside Maegor hearing his uncle's words that night, he couldn't sleep at all for the next few days. Aemond's audacious act of claiming a Conqueror's dragon, the last remnant of Old Valyria, at the tender age of fifteen unconsciously stirred something in his younger nephew's mind forever. He couldn't tell if it was awe, admiration, envy or everything at once or something else.

The next day watching Vhagar's giant form become minuscule on the horizon was the last time he saw Aemond. Maegor felt a peculiar bitterness, regretting that he hadn't spent more time with his uncle while their families were still united, despite their differences.

However, his introspection was short-lived. Days later, his supposed father, Laenor Velaryon, died in a sudden blaze. Maegor did not grieve as one might expect even if he always treated him and his mother kindly. He knew about Laenor's true inclinations, and as much as his mother fought to secure her children's legitimacy, Maegor was aware of the impossibility of Laenor being his biological father.

Maegor's suspicions were confirmed when shortly after Laenor's funeral, Daemon married his mother in a traditional Valyrian wedding and he was officially legitimized as Daemon's trueborn son on the same day making him Prince Maegor Targaryen, second of his name, future Prince of Dragonstone and heir of the Iron Throne, third in line after his mother, Rhaenyra and older brother, Jacaerys.

For an eleven-year-old, the changes were overwhelming. It was a lot to take in, but Maegor gradually adjusted to all the sudden changes. He grew closer to his father, Daemon who took a personal interest in Maegor's education and combat training. Even if their mother loved all of them equally, Maegor receiving such obvious favoritism from the only father figure in their life made Jace, Luke and Joffrey grow colder towards him. They never felt any hatred towards their silver haired brother but they excluded him from their activities, some times more obvious than others, uniting more closely with each other. Back then Maegor didn't mind being cast aside by his brothers that much like he probably should've. He had his father's guidance. This however would be something he'd regret as he grew up into a man.

Even if he was yet to claim a dragon after two failed attempts of making an egg hatch, Daemon often brought him out to ride Caraxes with him and show him the ways of a dragonrider, both on dragonback and on land. Those were his favorite times in his childhood. Being able to touch the clouds even if it was not his own dragon and he was not flying alone. Not having to hear the constant whispers around him whether or not would he turn out just as rogue and dangerous as his father or maybe worse, not feeling the envious stares of his brothers and constant teasing, not hearing the concerned words and nagging of his mother.

It was almost peaceful, even with a shadow starting to loom from King's Landing all the way to Dragonstone.

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