#but I'll only carry Aemond's baby

[thee-horny-thicky]

I’ve recently binged hotd and it’s been on my mind like I did not expect to be thinking about it for DAYS AAA like it’s so good T_T and strangely I find daemon and aemond sooo hot 🤭🤭 i wouldn’t mind getting my back blown and coming out pregnant by them

I didn't simp for Aemond at first, but then somewhere along the way, I became obsessed. I'd carry his bastards, and smash season one Daemon. Season two Daemon needs to get his shit together and leave Harrenhal.

[idkyetxoxo]

Aemond Targaryen - Embracing the Unexpected

Summary - Aemond and his wife navigate the fear, love, and uncertainty of new parenthood, discovering that the joy of new life is irresistible, even when it arrives as an unexpected set of multiple babies.

Pairing - Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings - Childbirth (brief)

Word count - 2482

Masterlist for Aemond • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

"You startled me," I gasped, my voice trembling as I felt a pair of hands trail softly across my bare shoulders. My heart raced, pounding in my chest, as I clung desperately to the discarded fabric of my gown.

"It's only me," Aemond murmured, his voice low and soothing. He pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of my neck, his hands gliding along my sides. 

I drew in a shaky breath, trying to calm myself. With a subtle wriggle, I slipped out of his embrace and stepped away, wrapping the nightgown more securely around myself before turning to face him.

His expression was a mixture of concern and sadness.

"What's the matter?" he asked softly as I made my way to the bed. I sat down, crossing my legs and began to braid my hair with methodical movements.

"Nothing," I replied, barely above a whisper. Aemond sat beside me, his fingers gently untangling the strands of my hair as he watched me with a worried gaze.

"Then why have you been keeping me at a distance these past few weeks?" he asked, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. 

I gripped the sheets tightly, my face averted as the flush of distress spread from my cheeks to the tips of my ears.

He pulled back, his eyes searching mine with a pained expression. 

"Am I repulsing you?" he asked, his voice thick with hurt. Before I could respond, he continued, "Do you no longer want me?"

I shook my head quickly, my heart aching at the thought of causing him such pain. I moved closer to him, desperate to reassure him. 

"No, it's not that at all. I promise," I said, my voice earnest. I could see the hurt in his eyes, and it made me feel even more unsettled.

"Aemond, it's just..." I started, the words tangling in my throat as I struggled to articulate my feelings. My mind raced, the weight of the truth pressing down on me until I couldn't hold it back any longer. 

"I'm with child," I blurted out, the confession leaving my lips before I could second-guess it.

His reaction was instant. His head snapped towards me, eye wide with shock. 

For a moment, his face lit up with joy, but as he registered my anxiety, that joy dimmed. The light in his expression faded, and he slowly stood from the bed, turning away from me as if to shield himself from what he feared might come next.

"Wait," I cried out, desperation seizing my heart as tears welled up in my eyes. The mere thought of him walking away from me, from us, was unbearable. "Please, don't leave."

His back remained turned, but his voice was sharp, carrying the weight of his wounded pride. 

"Does the thought of having a child with me cause such distress?" he asked, his words laced with bitterness. I shook my head, realizing too late that he couldn't see my silent denial.

"No, no, Aemond, it's not like that at all," I pleaded, my voice cracking under the strain of my emotions. "I'm just... afraid."

Finally, he turned around to face me, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. 

"Why are you afraid?" he asked, his voice softer now, though it was clear he was struggling to understand.

"I'm afraid that I won't be enough," I whispered, my deepest fears spilling out into the open. 

"That I'll fail you, that I'll fail our child. I'm terrified of what's to come, of not knowing how to be a mother, of not being able to protect our child from the dangers of this world and most of all, I'm afraid that you'll see me differently now, that I'll lose you in ways I can't even fathom."

Aemond's expression softened, and he took a step closer to me, reaching out to cup my face in his hands. 

"You're not going to lose me," he said, his voice steady and full of conviction. "We'll face this together, whatever comes. You're not alone in this, and I will be by your side every step of the way. We'll figure it out, I promise you."

Tears spilt over, and I leaned into his touch, finding comfort in the warmth of his hands. His words were a balm to my anxious heart, but the fear still lingered, a shadow that would take time to fully dispel. 

Eight months later, I found myself pacing the chamber, one hand pressed against my back, the other cradling my swollen belly. 

Each step was a struggle, my breaths coming in short, laboured gasps as the pain in my abdomen grew more intense. Every contraction felt like a wave crashing over me, leaving me trembling and weak.

I groaned, my forehead resting heavily against the bedpost as another contraction tore through me. My hair was matted to my forehead, damp with sweat, and my body ached under the immense strain. 

It felt as though I might burst from the pressure, the sheer force of it overwhelming me.

"Where is Aemond? Where is he?" I gasped, my voice tinged with desperation as I scanned the room. 

Faces blurred around me, the maids and midwives moving quickly, but none of them were the ones I needed to see.

"The father's presence is not customary during the birth," the maester explained calmly, though his words were drowned out by the scream that erupted from my lips. 

The pain was unbearable, and the thought of going through this without Aemond made it worse.

"I want Aemond!" I cried out, pushing away the handmaidens who were attempting to soothe me. Their gentle hands and soft words were of no comfort, only he could provide that.

As if summoned by my plea, the door to the chamber burst open, and Aemond rushed in, his face pale with worry. Without a moment's hesitation, he ran to my side, his arms encircling me in a protective embrace.

"Aemond, please, stay with me. I can't do this alone," I sobbed, clutching at him as if he were my lifeline.

"My prince," the maester began, his voice tinged with disapproval, "it is not customary for the father to be present—"

"I do not care what is customary," Aemond snapped, his voice steely with resolve. "If my wife wants me to stay, I will stay."

He guided me toward the bed, his hands gentle but firm as he helped me lie down. Another scream tore from my throat, the pain intensifying as my body prepared for the final stage of labour. 

Aemond held my hand tightly, his presence grounding me amid the chaos.

"You're doing so well," he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple as he tried to soothe me. "I'm here, love. I'm not going anywhere."

Each contraction came with a force that seemed to split me in two. Time lost all meaning as I focused solely on Aemond's steady presence.

The pain was blinding, but knowing he was there kept me from being completely consumed by it.

Minutes stretched into hours, each moment a battle as my body worked tirelessly to bring our child or so we thought into the world. Aemond never wavered, his hands steady on mine, his words a constant source of comfort. 

When I felt I could push no more, when I was certain I had nothing left to give, his voice would pull me back, reminding me that I was not alone.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the maester's voice broke through the haze of pain. 

"The babe is crowning," he announced, and I gasped, the realization that the end was near bringing a rush of determination.

"Just a little more," Aemond whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You're almost there."

With a final, desperate push, I felt a release, and the sound of a baby's cry filled the room. Tears welled up in my eyes as I collapsed against the pillows, utterly exhausted but relieved beyond measure.

"It's a boy," the maester announced, placing the squirming, crying infant in Aemond's arms. His face was a mixture of awe and disbelief as he looked down at our son, and then back at me.

"You did it," he whispered, his voice filled with pride.

Before I could respond, another contraction hit, more intense than before. My eyes widened in shock, and I looked at Aemond, fear creeping back into my heart. 

"There's another one," I gasped, my hand gripping his with renewed urgency.

The maester's expression shifted from concern to realization. "There's another babe," he confirmed, moving quickly to assist with the unexpected second birth.

Aemond's eyes were wide with shock, but he quickly regained his composure, focusing entirely on me. 

"You can do this," he said, his voice steady. "I'm right here with you."

The second labour was just as intense, but somehow, knowing what to expect made it more bearable. Aemond's hand never left mine, his voice guiding me through each agonizing contraction. After what felt like an eternity, a second cry filled the room.

"It's another boy," the maester said, handing the newborn to a waiting handmaiden to clean and wrap.

Aemond's eye was shining with tears as he looked between our two sons.

Before I could catch my breath, a sharp pain tore through me once more, I felt as though my body was being torn apart.. My heart raced, panic rising as I realized there was yet another child.

The maester's expression turned serious as he realized the truth. "Triplets," he said, a mix of amazement and concern in his voice. "This will be the last one."

Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me, but Aemond's presence kept me from sinking into despair. 

"You're almost there," he whispered, his voice strained with emotion. "Just one more, love. You can do this."

With every ounce of strength I had left, I pushed through the final wave of pain. The third birth was the hardest, with my body protesting the entire way, but finally, mercifully, it was over. 

The last cry filled the room, softer and more delicate than the others.

"It's a girl," the maester announced, his tone gentler now, as he carefully swaddled our daughter.

Aemond was speechless, his eye wide with disbelief and joy as he looked at the three tiny bundles in the hands of the midwives. "Three..." he whispered as if he couldn't quite believe it. "We have three."

I collapsed back onto the pillows, utterly spent but filled with a profound sense of love and accomplishment. Tears streamed down my face as Aemond placed our daughter in my arms, her tiny features perfect and serene.

He sat beside me, holding our two sons, his expression one of utter devotion. "You did it," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You brought them into the world."

Despite the exhaustion, despite the pain, nothing could overshadow the overwhelming joy of that moment.

A couple of hours passed in a haze of exhaustion and bliss. The room, once filled with the frantic energy of childbirth, had quieted into a peaceful sanctuary. 

The three tiny bundles nestled in our arms were the centre of our world, their soft breaths and occasional whimpers the only sounds breaking the stillness.

Aemond sat beside me on the bed, cradling our two sons, while our daughter rested against my chest. I marvelled at their delicate features, the softness of their skin, and the way they seemed to fit perfectly into our arms. 

It was overwhelming to think that just hours ago, they had been growing inside me, and now they were here each a tiny miracle.

The door creaked open, and I looked up to see Alicent entering the chamber. Her face, usually so composed and regal, softened as she took in the sight before her. 

Her eyes shone with a mixture of pride and love as she approached the bed, her steps careful and measured.

"Aemond," she greeted her son, her voice warm with affection. "And how are you, my dear?" she asked, turning to me with a smile that reached her eyes.

"Tired, but happy," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, still feeling the lingering exhaustion from the ordeal.

Alicent's gaze shifted to the three babes, her expression one of awe. She reached out to gently stroke the cheek of our daughter, her fingers tender and light. 

"They're beautiful," she said softly, her voice filled with admiration. "Three little blessings. I don't think I've ever seen anything so perfect."

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride and joy. 

"They are," I agreed, my voice catching in my throat as I looked down at our daughter. The love I felt for them was overwhelming, almost too much to contain.

Alicent moved her gaze to the two boys in Aemond's arms, her smile deepening as she reached out to touch their tiny hands. 

"Have you decided on names?" she asked, her tone gentle as she looked between us.

Aemond and I exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between us. We had spent countless nights talking about names, but now that they were here, the decision felt weightier, more significant.

Finally, Aemond spoke, his voice soft yet steady. "We have," he said, his eyes meeting his mother's. "Our daughter will be named Viserra,"

Alicent's eyes softened further, her smile widening. "Viserra," she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue with reverence. "A beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

"And our sons," I added, my voice trembling with emotion, "will be named Vaegon and Viserion."

Alicent's eyes flickered with recognition, and she nodded approvingly. "Vaegon and Viserion," she echoed, her voice filled with pride. "Strong names for strong boys. They will carry them well."

She looked between us, her expression one of deep affection and pride. "You have chosen well," she said, her voice filled with warmth.

Alicent leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. 

"I am so proud of you both," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You have brought such light into this world, and I know you will be wonderful parents."

She stepped back, giving us a moment of privacy, her eyes lingering on the three tiny babes who had already stolen all our hearts. 

"Rest now," she said, her voice tender. "You have earned it and when you're ready, we will celebrate these new additions to our family."

As she left the room, the warmth of her presence lingered, filling the chamber with a sense of peace and fulfilment. Aemond looked at me, his face filled with love and gratitude. 

"Viserra, Vaegon, and Viserion," he repeated softly as if the names were a prayer, a promise for the future.

I nodded, smiling through my tears as I looked down at our children. "They're perfect," I whispered, my heart swelling with love for the tiny lives we had brought into the world.

Aemond leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, his hand resting gently on our daughter's back. 

As we sat there, surrounded by the quiet strength of our love and the promise of our future, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together.

A/n - I swear thinking of the names took longer than writing the whole thing literally had to hop onto reddit.

Aemond tag list - @darylandbethfanforever9 @lessdepressy

[adragonprinceswhore]

Sexting & Taking Nude Pics w/ Hockey player!Aemond

Warnings: 18+, smut, AFAB reader, naughty pictures, degradation, teasing, masturbation, edging, manhandling, orgasm denial, P in V

A/N: Sometimes ovulation wins.

Inspired by this amazing art by @novembermorgon 🩵

“Where's my reward?”

An amusement snort leaves your nose. The game only ended a few moments ago, yet he's greedily demanding that you send him what you'd promised.

“Only winners get rewarded”

“I won.”

You smile to yourself as you type, fingers quickly moving over the screen.

"We won*"

"Whatever. Send it."

"Winning by sudden death doesn't count. You should've scored before it went into overtime"

You see him typing, but knowing Aemond, the reply won't be a long one. The delayed answer is due to him not knowing what to say.

God, you love tormenting him.

In all fairness, you were just quoting what he'd told you before. Winning a match that goes into overtime means that the other team scores a point, even if they lose. "If you can't beat them in 60 minutes, you didn't win", he'd said.

"I'll do better next time. Please, send it."

Usually, it'd take more to make him beg. He must be desperate.

You're still smiling as you close your eyes momentarily, imagining him sneaking off to one of the bathrooms by the locker room, still breathing hard from the strenuous match and with sweat covering his face, droplets sliding down his neck and disappearing inside his away jersey.

If you were there, you'd help him out of the white shirt and shoulder pads, planting tender kisses to his wet neck, secretly craving the taste of his salty skin. He always smelled his best straight after a game.

Maybe you'd get a bit carried away and let your tongue glide over the smooth skin over his adam's apple, prompting him to huff in proud amusement as he teases you for being such a needy slut.

Unfortunately, he’s not playing home in Old Town tonight and you're not there to greet him as he exits the ice.

Instead, you've agreed on a different arrangement. Whenever his team wins a match, you send him a little reward.

Today, it’s a picture of your ass, clad in a black thong you know he likes. It had taken you a good 30 minutes to get the position, lightning and angle of your camera just right, and you weren't about to spoil that on someone who can't beat the Winterfell Dires before overtime.

"Only winners get rewarded. Do better."

Still smiling, you bite your lip to calm yourself.

You can picture it so clearly; Aemond frustratingly exhaling through his nose at your unwillingness to give him what he craves.

He's not much better himself. He's teased you to the brink of madness before; edged you until you couldn't think of anything but him.

You feel a dizzying yet pleasant rush of power wash over you as your screen lights up again.

"Please, baby. I need you"

Mischief makes the smile on your face grow wider.

"I don't entertain losers"

Oh he must be fuming. Running his hand over his face in annoyance, clicking his tongue, thinking of all the ways he wishes to make you submit to his will.

Surely only making his balls ache more with need.

"Please, I've thought about this all night. I'm so fucking hard."

Warmth spreads in your chest. You know he only wants you; that he's just as insatiable for you as you are for him.

Yet, opportunities to tease him like this do not come often.

"There's plenty of porn online. Enjoy!"

If you were with him right now, this is where he would've had enough. Picking you up and throwing you on the bed, climbing on top of you and caging you in. Pressing his heavy bulge against your core, lowly murmuring "If you don't shut up, I'll make you" into your ear.

But the distance between the two of you has robbed Aemond of his cockiness.

"Please."

"Show me"

Your mouth waters as you open the image he sends you. The large hand he has around his shaft holds on to it firmly, veins on the back of his hand and down his forearm popping out from the intense blood flow. The tip of his cock looks vexed; bright red and glistening with arousal. You press your thighs together, no longer able to ignore the pounding growing fiercer.

You type even faster than before.

"What are you thinking about right now?"

"You. About how badly I wish you were here. About how I'd fuck you in this filthy bathroom as the lads are getting ready outside"

Defeated by your own desires, you send him the picture of your ass before putting away your phone, closing your eyes and allowing your hand to travel down between your thighs.

You can see him clear as day. He's grabbing the side of the white sink with one hand, the other furiously stroking his length, eyes glued to the screen of his phone as it rests on the ceramic surface.

He's panting; biting his lip and huffing loudly through his nose. Sweat slides down from his forehead to his flustered cheeks, pooling above his parted lips, dripping down.

Staring at his reward, he thinks back to all the ways he's had you. In your flat, in his car, in the bathroom of that high-end restaurant.

His grip on the sink tightens, thinking about how he'd grabbed the flesh of your ass so harshly it left marks as he pounded into you, causing your unabated moans to echo through the room.

He bites his lip to stop the words from spilling;

"My little slut", "My dirty girl", "My good whore”

Mine.

Mine.

Aemond runs the soft pad of his thumb on your cheeks, collecting the tears of frustration spilling from your tired eyes.

“Poor thing can’t take a bit of teasing”

He’s tone is infuriatingly smug, tutting and interrupting you when you open your mouth to protest.

”Doesn’t feel nice, does it?”

No, it doesn’t feel nice.

Or does it?

You honestly don’t know what’s pleasurable anymore, being forced to the edge of pleasure but denied release time and time again.

Aemond’s fingers, lips, tongue and teeth had coaxed you into pleasure-drunk submission. They’d made you beg for permission to cum, cry for permission to cum, plea for permission to cum. But to no avail.

“Tell you what-”, he starts, seeing eye boring into yours with an intensity only ignited when he was feeling particularly bloodthirsty.

“-I’ll take some photos of you, to enjoy when I win next week’s away game, and then I’ll let you cum”

You’re beyond feeling embarrassed, head instantaneously moving up and down in a furiously eager sign of compliance.

Aemond’s teeth sink into his bottom lip to stop the amusement bubbling up inside of him from making itself know.

He must admit that he likes you best like this; completely at his mercy. His to do whatever he wants with.

Grabbing his phone from the nightstand next to the bed he’s got you caged within his arms in, he swipes his thumb over the screen to open the camera.

He admires you through the lens. The way the short, delicate hairs by your hairline stick to your sweaty forehead. The way your naked breasts still heave from exhaustion; skin damp and glistening. The way your agape mouth pants softly.

And then, your features change.

“Stop doing that”

“What?”

Aemond looks stern, like he’s about to lecture you, “Faking it. You’re posing”

“I’m not!”, you defend yourself with a high-pitched protest.

“You are”

Mind still fuzzy from the strenuous, extensive foreplay Aemond had insisted upon, you don’t know how to appease him.

What does he want?

Sensing your confusion, he places two large palms on each side of your waist, leans down to offer you a soft kiss, and flips you over so you’re on your stomach.

Being manhandled by Aemond while your senses have left your head and relocated to your throbbing centre feels comforting, so when he grabs your hips to pull your ass up, you mumble a muffled “thank you” into the mattress.

He always moves your body with soft yet commanding hands, making his display of dominance feel more like an act of adoration and care.

And he’s always so warm, soothing your exposed skin from the chill air of the hotel room.

“Look at me”, he commands softly, tracing his fingers from the small of your back down to the velvety skin of your buttocks.

Turning your head to the side, you meet his eye, watching as he picks up his phone once more with one hand, while the other grabs his hard length, stoking it briefly before lining it up with your dripping cunt.

As he finally enters you, after god knows how much excruciating teasing, you feel your body turn into jelly; pliable to his every whim.

Your fists grab the sheets of his bed with a cramp-like grip, your mouth falls open with a loud moan, and your back arches in pleasure.

And you hear a click.

Aemond smiles behind the camera, satisfied with getting the picture he’d wanted all along. He moves it down to inspect the way you eagerly take him in, swallowing his cock over and over like the greediest of gluttons.

Enthralled, he admires the way he goes in and out; stretching and shaping you from the inside.

He puts his phone to the side, both hands once again finding home in the dip of your waist. His eye flickers to your bliss-filled face, an amused, condescending laugh leaves his lips,

“Are you drooling?”

You don’t care about his taunting anymore; too filled with him to care about anything else. Aemond moves forward, resting his face right next to yours.

The damp skin of his cheek sticks to yours, his breath fans hot air over your face,

“You’re so pretty like this”

You wait for him to kiss your cheek and award your endurance by finally paying attention to your aching clit.

Instead, he leans back once more, and pulls out.

“Aemond!”, you cry, unable to hide the utter devastation you feel at being denied your peak yet again.

“If you want to come you’ll have to work for it”

He’s smug again, enjoying your desperation a bit too much for your liking. Irritated and impatient, you push him to lay on his back and sink down on him in a selfish attempt to chase your own pleasure.

To your surprise, he allows you to take command; placing one of his hands on your hip, thumb coming down to flick your clit. The other hand picks up his phone again.

“You’re close?”

“Y-, yes”

His thumb continues to rhythmically circle your bundle of nerves as the grip he has on you tightens. His hips roll up to meet yours each time you sink down.

You grab his bicep, anchoring yourself to him with nails that harshly dig into his flesh.

So close.

A few more rhythmic movements and you feel fierce pleasure erupt inside of you, causing your mouth to fall open again as you whine out your pleasure.

Click.

Click.

Click.

You’re still sitting on him, breathing heavily as you try to catch your breath and come back to reality after feeling the release of seven denied orgasms wash over you.

Suddenly, you’re on your back again, Aemond hovering over your panting form. Your face is flustered and your hair is even messier than it was before.

Click.

The smug smile on his face has morphed into pride, and perhaps there’s something more, something far more vulnerable than he’s ever allowed himself to show you, hiding behind his miss-matched gaze.

“Gevie”

Thank you for reading! I have an idea for an upcoming part about these two, but with loads of angst as well 🤩 lmao you know I can’t help myself! Kisses 😙

[howdoesagrapewrites]

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: fem!reader, cisgender female reader (I'm sorry mascs and nbs, I'll make something for you later) incest/targcest implied for later, platonic and romantic yanderes, yandere EVERYONE x reader, here's a list of every character that will be featured (not all of them are romantic):Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhea Royce, Alicent Hightower, Otto Hightower, Viserys I Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Haelena Targaryen, Daeron Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Laena Velaryon, Laenor Velaryon

Notes: I go by a very strange mix of the series and the books, I haven't seen the series in a while so the timeline will most likely be a mess. I'd like this to be a series but I've been incredibly busy. Extra: at first I thought about making reader Mysaria's daughter, but this is a self insert, so it's best that you look however you like, leaving the mother anonymous. The only physical reference I'll make will be reader's silver hair

>After Rhaenyra was declared the heir of the iron throne, Daemon, insulted, flew away with his mistress, the white worm, who he would conceive a child with, even asking for a dragon egg for the prince or princess to come

>However, Viserys demanded him to go back to his home and wife, he sent Mysaria off to lys, where the stress of a storm in the trip back made her lose the baby

>Daemon never fully forgave his brother, and this left him less than eager to have another child anytime soon

>So imagine his surprise, when 7 years later, there's a rumour spreading in flea bottom like wildfire, about a girl carrying Daemon's bastard

>Many women had claimed to carry a royal child before, thinking this could give them any sort of prize, so Daemon didn't think much of it at first, but when he heard her name, he recognized her as one of his previous "favorites" who disappeared without a trace months ago

>She was said to have taken residence in Essos, and Daemon went on dragonback to find her. She was from the free cities, five years older than Daemon, and a heart as cold as a northern winter, or so they said. She was not expecting Daemon, running away to have the child in peace

>"They said I was too far along when I found out, moon tea would've only harmed me. Besides, it was lucrative in its own way" said the woman. Daemon did little to suppress the disgust on his face when thinking about her being defiled by other men while carrying his dragonseed babe

>She wanted no part in the baby's life, and Daemon, in his particular fashion, informed her he'd take the youngling as soon as it's out of her, may even pay her a few coins to make sure she won't do much as think about keeping it

>A few months passed, and he returned to king's landing with a babe in arms. Demanding an egg in honor of the birth of princess Y/N Targaryen

>This egg would later hatch into the dragon Dagahrion, the princess' bound dragon

>The court was a hot mess, according to Otto, he wouldn't be surprised if the young creature lost its left ear because of all the gossip and ill-speaking of her, just like her father. This was a scandal, considering he was still married to Rhea Royce, who he gravely dishonored time and time again, Daemon was always shameless, but this was crossing a limit, even for him, to call his bastard a princess while refusing to lay with his own rightful wife, disgraceful

>Daemon tried to use you as yet another attempt to get his brother to annul his marriage to "the bronze bitch", but even when he failed, he did everything in his power to legitimize his daughter

>Despite everyone on the council telling Viserys how foolish it'd be to do it, making enemies out of the Royce house, further insulting Rhea, and putting a whoreborn on the line of succession (no matter how far from the throne), all it took was a little yawn and the bright twinkle of your eyes to make him melt, he is fully committed to his role of uncle, even as a doting grandfather, considering his father passed long before her birth

>Viserys sent Daemon back to the Vale, saying he should do his best to give lady Rhea an heir, to make up for the slip and avoid causing the Targaryen house any more trouble. Viserys, for totally not selfish reasons wanted to keep the princess in KL, saying Rhea should not be made to raise his bastard

>Daemon said he'd rather be exiled again than to leave his daughter in Hightower hands to go try to fuck his wife. Viserys was greatly offended by the implication that the Hightowers truly ruled and schemed while he reigned

>To his outmost displeasure, he finally had to let his niece go to the Vale with her father

>Rhea loved you as soon as she set eyes on you, completely separating you from your father's actions, and seeing you as a pure angel in this horrible situation

>But it was so difficult with Daemon around, she just wanted to whisk you away and love you, she'd pray to the mother to be able to breastfeed you, crying when she heard you wail in frustration of your hunger, since it took several wet nurses to get you to drink milk

>But Daemon was always around to remind her you were not hers, that he considered her lowly, not worthy of you. He'd correct you when you learning to speak, and dared to refer to her as "mama"

>It was said the ground of the vale would shake upon them yelling when fighting over you

>But this joy to Rhea was short lived, as Daemon sent you to KL when he had to fight in the war of the stepstones, saying the "nest of vipers" was more deserving of you than she was. When you were three, your step mother had an accident while hawking, many said Daemon orderded for her to be poisoned when she was bed bound, others said the distress of your parting made her lose skill

>It was Viserys greatest pleasure when you were left at his care, his adorable baby niece was now an infant, and somehow you were even more charming, being able to speak, sing and walk

>To no one's surprise, Viserys' reaction was not generalized, with many not being keen on having a bastard running around the castle playing with the princes, by that point, Aegon was 8, Haelena was 7, Aemond was 5, and Daeron was 1, and almost all of them could see people treated you differently

>Rhaenyra was welcoming, baby Lucerys had just been born, and she was delighted to have a girl to spoil, it only helped that Jacaerys loved you as well, and would often fight his uncles for the chance to be with you

>Alicent in particular was not pleased with your presence, thinking you were an uncomfortable conversation to have with her children, especially resentful of the fact her youngest son would be attached at the hip with you

>To Otto, you were an annoyance, a living proof of Daemon's pure disregard for the norms, however, he could rest at night knowing you were ninth in the line of succession, and a girl, who would someday marry a son of a minor house and be too busy bearing children to present a claim to the iron throne

>Even though the Hightowers were tougher than the king, they did eventually succumb to your spell, and became just as enamoured with you as everyone else, in their minds, you were almost a product of spontaneous generation, completely ignoring your shameful father and prostitute mother

>Your arrival also caused the birth of Lucerys (who was again, born with a striking resemblance of Harwin Strong, just like his older brother) to be less gossiped about, after all, your case was much more interesting

>Some people in court starting referring to you as "The princess of flea bottom", this title costed quite a few tongues around the castle, ordered by Viserys, happily approved by Otto

>The Hightower hand was careful not to show too much affection to you, as it was improper and he knew how zealous was Viserys when it came to you

>Aegon was "already too old to be playing" in his words, and kept his distance from you, you reminded him to much of his sticky handed little brothers

>But as if you knew, you chased him around and praised him for his knightly demeanor (in your eyes) and how he's just like the heroes in Viserys' stories. It was not a long time before Aegon now appointed himself as your guard, watching like a hawk over his brothers and nephews when he thought they were being too rough on you

>Haelena loves you from the start, sees you as a little doll, she loves showing you her bugs, you're the only one who listens to her attentively

>Jacaerys and Daeron are only a year old, but always search for you, you think they're cute, something that spikes jealousy on Aemond, he wants you to think of him as someone worthy of admiration, like you see his older brother, he'd even accept being cute in your eyes, but he has none of those traits to appeal to you. You love him and love playing with him nonetheless, but he thinks he needs something else to win your favor

>The Velaryons dote on you too, with Laenor married to Rhaenyra and once your father marries Laena that same year, they are maybe too eager to become part of your family, and regard you as theirs

>Especially Laena, who Daemon allows (unlike with Rhea) to pamper and care for you, but still corrects you when it comes to remembering your origins, Laena may love you, but she's not your mother

>Maybe Daemon does this as a way to imagine you're only his, he doesn't care for the woman who abandoned such a precious treasure, she has been wiped away from your life and memory, you're only familiar with your father, you only belong to him

>You have his silver hair, you have his name, no matter who your mother was, you are his true valyrian heir, his dragonseed

>Unfortunately, Daemon is not the only one whose eyes light up when thinking of owning you

[darkestspring]

Request for big sister reader please with platonic yanderes Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond where reader is the one who has cared for them since young so they absolutely adore her. However, Rhaenyra wants to take her full sister with her to Dragonstone. The three do whatever it takes to make sure reader stays with them.

You were only a few years younger than Rhaenyra. Old enough to grieve your mother, who you loved greatly but not old enough to feel the same injustice your sister did when your father remarried and decided to take Lady Alicent as his wife.

In the months between Alicent becoming queen and up until Aegon's birth, Rhaenyra became increasingly more at your side, shooting Alicent a distasteful glare whenever she got close to you, even doing so when it was your father who came near you.

You were her sister, her flesh and blood, you both mourned, you were vulnerable, she wouldn't let anyone take advantage of you in this state.

But she couldn't deny the jealousy eating at her when you happily started to carry Aegon around, beaming and happily chatting about your new baby sibling to anyone who would listen.

You loved Aegon, of course, he was loud and sticky and stinky, like all babies were but he was your baby brother! You were his big sister, so you'd always love him and look out for him.

"Do you like your new brother, dearest?" Your father asked you one day, running his hair softly through your hair and you nodded happily, beaming up at him.

"Yes! I like Aegon a lot, I'm his big sister! So, I'll take care of him." You were happy at the touch of affection from your father.

Viserys, Alicent, and Otto all smiled at the answer which only incensed Rhaenyra more. You were her sister! Not that... that stupid baby's! He had only been born but he was stealing you and her rightful place as the next ruler from her. Her father had promised and sworn but he had the son he wanted now, so what would happen now?

Nothing, as she found out, she was still the next ruler, as the King's first born child. The revelations calmed her fears, as did the happiness on your face when you congratulated her.

She could always count on you. Her lovely sister.

Just as you adored Aegon, you love Helaena just as much. You had a little sister! Your very own little sister! She was such a quiet thing, but just as lovely!

Her quietness made her no less lovely to you. You carried her around, bringing her flowers to show her and little bugs in small jar before letting them go.

"If you love something, let them go. If they love you, they'll come back. That is why I'll always be by your side, lovely Aegon, sweet Helaena." You cooed at the three year old Aegon and eight months old Helaena.

"Sister." Aegon babbled, clinging close to you. He hated being away from you.

only about six months late, came baby Aemond and Rhaenyra hated how doting you were.

But things were peaceful for a while, things were still good. you spent most of your time with Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond. Taking walks with them, reading to them, playing with them.

Rhaenyra remained distant from them but not from you, she was as close as ever with you. She wanted to bring you to dragonstone. it was hers. as the heir, it was hers but you didn't want to leave while your younger siblings were still growing up.

She didn't want to leave you, so she let it be.

You were so happy for your sister when she got married, happy for your cousin Laenor too. You were even happier when both Alicent and your sister announced their pregnancies to you.

"Oh! Rhaenyra! I'm so happy for you!" You held her hands in yours, a beaming smile on your face. "Oh! I wonder if it'll be a girl or a boy!" You beamed happily before turning to your stemother.

"I'm so happy for your too! I'll be a big sister again! Oh, i wonder if Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond will be happy too." It'll Aemond's first time being a younger brother! You're overjoyed for him.

Alicent and Rhaenyra glared at each other when you weren't looking and you were oblivious as you were sucked in your joy.

You didn't get much time with Daeron but you were overjoyed by him, always trying to be there for him but Jace.

Oh sweet Jace, you adored your nephew. You coddled him endlessly, which Rhaenyra was happy about and your younger siblings weren't. Their nephew was jjust a bastard child, what did he have that they didn't?

It only became worse with luke's birth. They hated them both.

When Rhaenyra decided to leave for Dragonstone, she begged you to come with her.

"Oh, sister. Our younger siblings needs me here," You didn't want to make your sister feel bad but your siblings were still so young! Aemond was such a fragile child, as was Helaena and Aegon.

Rhaenyra held your hands in hers, her face twisted into a saddened expression. "I need you as well, sister. I am..." There was one more thing she could try to convince you with. "I am frightened, sister. All these baseless rumors. They all sneer at my children, I can't take it anymore. Jace and Luke, Joffrey too, I don't want them to bear the consequences of the ill rumors." It wasn't manipulation, she was indeed scared but if this took you aware from her siblings who sneered at her children and from her stepmother who openly questioned her children's legitimacy, then so be it.

Your face fell and you were quick to try and soothe your sister. "Oh! Oh, sister, do not fret." You whispered softly, hugging her softly, "Those awful people with nothing better to do! Jace is a prince, your heir, and luke will be the heir of driftmark one day, I am certain of it. How dare they!" Your sister shouldn't have to suffer such things.

"All I need is you by my side, please come with me." Rhaenyra pleaded with you.

"Oh, of course, I'll come with you. I shouldn't be away too long though." You fretted softly and Rhaenyra softly smiled at you.

You'd be too content to worry about coming back, she'd make sure of it.

As you left to dragonstone with Rhaenyra and her family, Rhaenyra waved at the watching trio while you weren't watching, only angering them further.

'I win.' she smiled as you.

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch Chapter Six: Salt and Blood

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: Alright, everyone. This is the last time you'll see baby Aemond and the reader, so let's cherish it. In the next chapter, we will start where the show did with the characters aged up in Ep. 8. I'm very excited to write for adult MC. I'm not going to lie; I'm a bit worried about writing Aemond's inner dialogue, as I've never written for a male character who isn't obsessed with the reader, but I'm sure I'll do fine. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Alicent being delulu, parentified sibling trauma, and watch me make you feel even worse about Driftmark.

As you journeyed from the gloomy corridors of the Red Keep to the sulfuric atmosphere of Dragonstone and now to the sandy shores and scattered shells of Driftmark, an air of sadness seemed to cling to you wherever you went. You stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing down at the tranquil sea, overlooking the stone coffin that cradled your late Aunt Laena. Two deaths, each carrying its weight of sorrow, yet only one mourned.

You wondered what it would be like to die choked in flames like Ser Harwin and Lyonel Strong did. Would it be the same as suffering dragon fire like your Aunt? Most likely not. Hers was a swift burning of flesh from bones, while theirs was hours of agony and suffocation. 

Despite what your family claimed, the idea of dying to your own dragon’s flames wasn’t an appealing end to you. It didn’t seem noble like how stories explained it to be. It was horrifying to have your skin torched from your body, to feel the power of a thousand suns on your flesh. It would be excruciatingly painful, and you wished it upon no one, not even those you despised most. You would much rather meet the Stranger in your sleep. 

You barely settled into your new home on Dragonstone before your mother received the two ravens. One bringing news of Ser Harwin and the other of Laena, containing death in the ink. You consoled your mother and father as best you could, hugging and kissing and telling them that you loved them and were sorry. It was an impossible task to do, but you couldn’t help yourself. You hated seeing them so distraught and wanted to make them feel better. 

At night, you cried into your pillows in your now isolated bedroom until Jace and Luke entered, watery eyes matching yours. As the eldest, it was your job to hold your family together when your parents couldn’t, and it left you no time to properly grieve the loss of an Aunt and a father figure.

You felt terrible for your cousins Baela and Rhaena. To go to bed one night and wake up the next without a mother was a depth of grief you couldn’t imagine. You didn’t think you could live a life without your mother; you would die with her, and the ability of your cousins to continue without her was admirable as you observed their sullen faces streaked with tears. 

Your Great Uncle Vaemond spoke his sermon in High Valyrian, which was too fast and practiced for you to understand. You could decipher some words here and there, but ultimately, you were lost listening to a man you rarely met. You felt your mother straighten her stance from behind, her arms coming to circle the three of you in a protective embrace.

Vaemond’s eyes were on yours, Luke’s, and Jace’s, but everyone else was focused on him—on the coffin with Lady Laena’s face carved into it.

As your eyes wandered to the other people surrounding the funeral procession, fear struck you as you caught your eldest uncle’s eye. It wasn’t very comforting to see Aegon so soon. You had set it in your mind that you wouldn’t have to see him for many years, and yet, here you were, dressed in an obsidian and red-sleeved gown, pearls adorning the collar and your veiled headpiece. Quickly, you turned away, instinctually taking Jace’s hand in yours.

An air of stiffness surrounded your family that you weren’t blind to. It was always there, but now, more than before, you felt it. You thought it was childish to be so locked into familial drama when someone lay dead inside a casket. Though you didn’t remember much of the times you met your Aunt Laena, she still deserved the respect of putting these grievances aside. You knew you were part of it, but more important things were happening than what you suffered. 

The cries of your father sent waves of sadness into your heart, and with the sudden urge to get him to stop, you left the safety of your brother and clung to your father’s waist. He lifted you into his sea-worn arms and clung to your frail body as if it was the only thing that kept him from sinking into his grief. You rested your temple onto his shoulder, tears of empathy falling from your eyes as he pressed your head closer. 

Afraid of what would become of your father if you let go, you allowed him to crush you in his embrace for as long as he needed it as a scornful laugh broke through the tense atmosphere. You peeked from your position to see Great Uncle Daemon chuckling to himself with a shake of his head at what Vaemond said. You felt annoyance bubble inside you, solidifying your distaste for the man as the Velaryon guards clad in silver armor and blue seahorse sigils lifted the ropes and lowered your Aunt into the roaring sea. 

You didn’t leave your father’s side for the remainder of the day, not even when he slowly lowered himself into the sea with his sister as the cold, salty breeze swept through the evening. You wanted to speak with Aemond, if just for a small moment, but your family came first. They always came before anyone else, a fact that your mother instilled into the very fabric of your being.

Sitting atop one of the rock ledges near your father, you dipped your feet into the saltwater, dragging your toes to watch the water ripple and allow time to pass. It didn’t feel right to leave him alone. The image of him falling into the ocean as your Aunt played repeatedly in your mind’s eye. You were afraid in his grief, he would follow her. Only when your father’s squire, Ser Qarl, took your father from his place with his sister did you leave, joining the rest of the goers for the wake late in the evening.

Searching through the crowd of people for your mother and your brothers, you couldn’t find them. Alone with none of your family for protection, you felt fear pull at your chest. Your hands began to scratch at your arms and scalp, attempting to quell the insatiable itch. The fabric prevented you from doing so, and tears of fright soon began to collect at your lashes. 

From across the balcony, you saw a flash of green, a color that had never offered you comfort until now. Yet as quickly as you saw it, it vanished, leaving only a head of white promptly running down the stairs. You felt your heart drop into your feet as you watched Aemond run across the sandy dunes like he was running from you. 

The call of a dragon you never heard before screeched through the gray skies. It was mournful as if it were calling for a lost pet or child. In this case, it was a rider. As you looked up, you could see the vast shadow of Vhagar’s silhouette soaring through the clouds, flying in the same direction your uncle went. You felt your eyes grow wide with worry at the realization, wanting to chase after Aemond and warn him.

“Let’s get you to bed,” a tender, feminine voice came from behind you as you jolted in surprise. The tall figure of Queen Alicent stood before you, curly auburn hair pinned back into a magnificent updo and clad in her usual green and gold as she put a hand on your back. “Your mother already sent your brothers.” 

“Where is she?” you hastily asked. Aemond was no longer on your mind.

“I’m uncertain. Your father is off drowning his sorrow in his cups with his squire,” she answered in the same velvet voice you remembered her having, bitterness you didn’t understand laced in the undertone.

You felt offended by how the Queen spoke about your father. He was grieving. He was allowed to spend time with whomever he wished, doing what he wanted.

Alicent lifted her arm, wrapping it around your petite frame, and led you inside Hightide. It was not as cold or formidable as Dragonstone; its dark magic melted into the walls, yet it didn’t hold the warmth of the Red Keep. Still, you felt unwelcomed here, either by the place or its people. The pale stone walls were filled with bits and pieces of shells from clams, mollusks, and other long-dead shell creatures mixed into the mortar to make it stand the test of salty air. 

The Hall of the Nine, where you passed as Queen Alicent, led you to the guest chambers, where you held the Driftwood throne where your grandfather Corlys reigned. You recalled when you visited this place many years ago and how he went on about the many treasures from his sieges and conquests that decorated the room in all its glory. He and his wife, Rhaenys, sat in a heated discussion in front of the hearth.

Once you reached the door to your shared bed chambers with your brothers, Alicent turned to you. It was the first time you had seen her since what Aegon had done to you, and you felt tension. It seemed as if she wanted to speak, to say everything that had been bottled up since the revelation of her son’s transgressions, but she was unable to do so as tears choked her. Instead, the only words that came out were those she couldn’t say to her children. 

“I hope you can find the time to visit the Keep. Helaena asked when you would be returning, and it broke my heart to tell her you wouldn’t be,” she confided, stroking the thin black fabric covering your dark hair. “Aemond has turned inwards since you left, and Aegon has become crueler to him. It makes me wonder if he’s always been this way and that my love for him has blinded me from his transgressions.” 

You said nothing. The mention of Aegon’s name still felt like a blow to the stomach. “I hope you can find it within your heart to forgive my son for what he did to you and that we may yet be the family we were always meant to be.” Your tongue felt like lead as your breathing began to race, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as Alicent kneeled before you, a sad smile on her supple lips as she tenderly swiped your tear-stained cheeks with her smooth thumbs. 

“I love you, my shining light, my dream.” 

Leaning in, she took your small frame by your shoulders, kissing your forehead as one would do to their babe. You felt sick, nausea churning in your stomach as you quickly opened the bedroom door, hastily shutting it behind you in fright. 

It was all too much—Lady Laena’s death, Ser Harwin’s, seeing your father in shambles, and Queen Alicent’s steadfast belief that you should become a part of her family no matter what happened to you. The Queen desired to wed you and Aegon despite the horrors he committed. The realization that she genuinely didn’t see what your eldest uncle did to you as something that would permanently bar you from joining the union pierced your heart. You would much rather marry Aemond or Helaena, but having no ties to her seemed better.

Your brothers peered at you curiously from their beds as you clutched your chest, looking as if you ran the entire way here. They didn’t ask any questions, and you didn’t move to speak, loosening the ties of your gown and shrugging it off until you were only in your smock. You didn’t feel like changing into your nightdress in front of your brothers, deciding to climb into bed and shove your face into the pillows, refusing to cry in front of Jace and Luke as you fell into a dreamless sleep.

When Aemond learned of Lady Laena’s death, he knew it was a sign from the Gods that his time had come. The Seven had deemed this the moment to prove himself to everyone who doubted him and thought him useless without a dragon. 

Vhagar. 

The largest, oldest, and strongest dragon in the world was riderless. 

Aemond believed that once he gained the only thing he lacked, life would finally be what it should have been. He would make his father proud, shove all the taunts and jests from Aegon and his nephews back into their faces, and finally become a man you deemed worthy—your Mors Martell. 

As Aemond fled from the wake when the candles had long melted, he thought only of the ichor coursing through his veins. Dusk was upon the island, and the night’s wind blew harshly, strands of his silver-blonde hair covering his face as he climbed over the dunes. Vhagar was further from the castle than he initially thought.

“Fuck.” Aemond released a sigh of exasperation and scrambled across the uneven ground. 

When he came upon the dragon, he was in awe. Vhagar was as frightening as she was enormous—a giant, green-scaled, moving mountain that shook the ground and blew sand with every movement and breath from her powerful lungs. 

Taking advantage of Vhagar’s resting state, Aemond crept along the sparse grass, feeling each gust of air she created with her wide nostrils, blowing the sand into his face and ears. Anxiety was present in his gut, feeling a slight tremble in his limbs as he closed the distance, wrapping his hand around one of the many ropes draped across Vhagar’s scales. Suddenly, he felt the ground underneath him quake, and the head of the dragon lifted with a low rumble.

Vhagar observed Aemond with tired yet calculating amber orbs, double eyelids blinking. She grumbled as she bore her teeth to him. They were the size of a fully grown adult, sending a shiver down his spine. As if it were an act of divine intervention, Vhagar laid her enormous head back down, seeming disinterested in the young boy before her. 

If Lady Laena’s death wasn’t proof enough Aemond was fated by the Gods to claim a dragon, the most powerful beast in the world, laying its head in acquiescence certainly was. Blinded by his small victory, nerves still in his mind, he reached for the rope ladder again, only for Vhagar to raise her head and growl, low and deep. A snarl formed on her great maw as Aemond stumbled back in shock and saw the light of orange flames gather at the back of her throat. 

“Dohaerās!” (Serve!) he shouted instinctively, recalling the many lessons he observed in the Dragonpit as he felt the heat of fire on his countenance. “Dohaerās, Vagus! Lykirī!” (Serve, Vhagar! Be calm!)

With Aemond’s commands, the she-dragon relaxed, recalling her flames and closing her mouth. She purred to him like a cat, a sign that she approved his merit while standing in the face of death. Vhagar would allow the Prince an attempt to claim her, but he must prove himself before the eyes of the Gods, before the eyes of a dragon. 

Aemond took the ropes and climbed atop the mighty Vhagar’s back, positioning himself in the saddle and grabbing the reigns. 

“Sōvēs!” (Fly!) Aemond ordered, and Vhagar rumbled, raising her legs and shaking the sand from her scales. “Sōvēs!”

She obeyed, taking a few giant steps and flapping her great wings, pushing off from the ground and leaving a sandstorm in her wake. Though Aemond told Vhagar to fly, he still had yet to control her as she took to the night sky in a near-vertical position, catching him unaware. The force knocked him from the leather saddle, leaving him dangling in the air with just the reigns for purchase. Aemond screamed with fear, feeling as if his stomach lurched out of his body as he struggled against the whipping wind to regain control. 

She tested him as he grabbed the pommel, sat upright, and pulled the ropes to balance her. He felt like he was on a bucking horse, loosening, tightening, twisting, and turning to the left and right to steer her safely. Vhagar ignored Aemond’s movements and continued to fly like he wasn’t there, diving into the dunes of Driftmark before he reared her upwards, dragging her claws across the sand. He squealed in terror, blocking the debris that scratched his face as she soared over the sea.

Aemond knew he needed to prove himself to her, to show the war-hardened dragon that he deserved to ride her. Her chirps and groans from the day earlier called to him like nothing before, singing to the Prince in her dragon song of forlornness and isolation. Perhaps that was why he felt compelled to claim her. They both shared that feeling of loneliness deep within their souls, that same oddness in their families. The dragoness was too large to be held within any structure, leaving her in forced solitude, her only companions being her rider. Aemond was the only one, despite his Valyrian features, not to have a dragon. 

That would no longer be his story.

Aemond fortified his mind and will, putting his soul into his movements as he lifted Vhagar higher in the sky. He could feel the blood of Old Valyria coursing through his veins as the mighty dragon obeyed, leveling out her vast wings and soaring over Spicetown and back to Driftmark. He screamed with fear and joy as she flew with him in the skies, a bright smile he was sure you could see in Lannisport. 

Aemond had proven himself. He had shown himself and all who doubted and bullied him for not having a dragon that he was capable, that he was worthy. 

Everything was as it should be.

Perhaps you would allow him to kiss you again and spend the night in his embrace. Aemond had no doubt you would be proud of him as he listened to your assurances that he was brave, a dragon knight who you could trust with your secrets and protect you from enemies, and that he deserved your heart. 

Aemond landed Vhagar with a grace he hadn’t possessed before, climbing down the rope ladder on her side with windburnt cheeks. As soon as his feet touched the sand, he ran straight to the underground caverns of High Tide to wake you and explain everything.

“Jace!” 

You faintly heard a voice calling, sounding distant in your dream state. Ignoring it with a groan, you rolled over, trying to return to sleep.

“Jace, wake up! Someone stole Vhagar!”

This woke you from your sleep. You sat up to see Baela and Rhaena hovering over your brother’s bed. 

“We need to stop them!”

Jace and Luke quickly threw the covers off and stuck their feet into their slippers as you observed them curiously. Rubbing the sleep from your face, you yawned, begrudgingly following them. 

“You cannot steal a dragon,” you countered after a long silence in the pale stone halls, your voice laced with sleep. It felt like you had hardly gotten a wink. 

“She is my mother’s dragon! I was supposed to claim her,” Rhaena countered, tears collecting in her dark eyes. 

Yawning again as you followed a few paces behind your siblings and cousins, you rolled your eyes, wanting to bite with the remark, “Why didn’t you?” But you didn’t say it. The reason was apparent why she didn’t, and Rhaena didn’t need any more reason to be distraught.

They led you to the caverns of High Tide, stumbling in your sleepless state. They led to the beaches lit only by dim torchlight, your movements groggy and slightly annoyed. On the other end of the tunnel, Aemond appeared before you with a proud grin and windswept hair. You couldn’t help but mirror his expression, a contagious self-satisfaction that spread to you. 

He needn’t say it aloud. You could tell by how he carried himself, shoulders back, chin high, and a slight lift to his cheeks, that your uncle claimed a dragon—the mightiest one in the world, Vhagar. 

“It’s him!” Rhaena exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Aemond.

It didn’t deter him, countering with his head high, violet eyes flicking from you to your cousin. “It’s me.”

“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon!” she yelled, hurt as if this reasoning would change Vhagar’s fate. As you moved to Aemond, Jace grabbed your hand, stopping you with an anxious yet demanding look on his face. 

“Your mother is dead, and Vhagar has a new rider now,” your uncle replied, and you felt your brows raise in shock. You knew better than most of the cruelty he could commit, but after spending time with Aemond and seeing the softer, gentler, and kinder side of him, it took you off guard. 

“She was mine to claim!” Rhaena argued, charging toward him in a challenge. Your skin began to itch, and your breath quickened. 

The hatred felt at the funeral carried over into your brothers and cousins. Tension in the air crackled like a fire in a hearth, watching the yellow and orange flames slowly dwindle into embers until someone threw tinder to spark it.

“Then you should’ve claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride,” Aemond sneered. “It would suit you.”

Your lips parted in empathetic offense as you looked from your uncle to Rhaena, tears of guilt and shame pricking at your eyes. You apologized about the pig, and you thought Aemond forgave you, but it seems he couldn’t let go of the hurt no matter how close you were. The feeling of joy for your uncle’s feat was as brief as your friendship.

With a surge of rage, Rhaena charged forward, attempting to push Aemond, but he swiftly countered, and she fell to the ground. You jumped back in shock as you covered your mouth, Luke standing beside you. Baela screamed, protecting her sister as she punched him across his face and Aemond yelped in pain. Without thinking, you went toward your uncle, fearful for his well-being in your heart, but he swiftly stood before you could reach him, returning the same swing to Baela. You gasped in horror and moved to the side, narrowly missing your cousin’s body from colliding with yours. 

“Come at me again, and I’ll feed you to my dragon!” Aemond snarled at the twins, and without warning, Jace ran to him with a shout, shoving your uncle in offended anger and smacking him across the cheek.

You screamed for them to stop as you watched Luke try to join the fray, but you held him back, scared that he would get caught in the crossfire. He was the youngest and the littlest, most likely to get hurt. You needed to protect what family you could. Aemond brought this upon himself with his words of arrogance, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to defend him, too.

The scene before you was violent, a flurry of white, black, and red running atop Aemond as Luke slipped from your grasp, all pummeling, kicking, and screaming at him as you cried for them to stop. He was helpless as he suffered blow after blow, and you felt your heart splinter. This wasn’t a fair fight. Without worrying for yourself, you jumped on top of Jace, pulling him back from your uncle and giving him a chance to defend himself. You felt like a betrayer, turning against your twin to save your uncle. Your brother grunted as you both fell to the ground, his body on top of you as you struggled to keep him from fighting. 

You and your siblings had fought before, but nothing like this. It was so vicious, filled with violence and want for pain, as Jace whipped his head back into yours, causing it to slam against one of the many jagged rocks across the ground, having you see stars. He went back into the brawl with no worry for your safety as you heard the unsheathing of a knife, your eyes blurry as you struggled to see the scene before you. 

“You will die screaming in flames just as your father did!” Aemond yelled, suddenly holding Luke by his neck with a rock in his hand.

“My father is alive!” Luke gasped in protest, flinging his arms and blood running down his face.

You needed to get up to protect Luke from physical harm and the threat of discovering your lineage. You didn’t believe Aemond would kill Luke. He was capable of violence, but he wasn’t a murderer. As you tried to move, your skull felt filled with sand, pulling you back down to the ground as you felt the warm trickle of liquid run down your neck. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your sight and mind. 

Aemond spoke again to Jace, seeming to forget your existence and holding a sense of superiority. “He doesn’t know, does he, Lord Strong?” 

You forgot how cruel Aemond could be. Your stolen moments of reading and kisses in the night had closed your eyes to it.

“Aemond, don’t,” you mumbled, skull pounding as the excruciating sounds of your brothers and uncle’s shouts pierced your ears like needles. 

You blinked your eyes into focus, seeing Jace wildly swinging a knife at Aemond as you managed to kneel. Your brothers didn’t realize how dangerous what they were doing was, that a knife wasn’t something to use against someone who was armed with only a stone in hand. While Aemond was bigger and had more combat experience, a dagger would kill him. Being upset because someone claimed a dragon wasn’t worth murdering over. 

Reaching your arm out with a soft grunt, you grabbed Jace’s ankle as Aemond pushed him over, holding the same rock above his head as he did for Luke. You thought Aemond knew better than this. You gave him the perfect opportunity to run and get help now that Baela and Rhaena huddled into a scared, crying mess, but he was too far gone into his anger to see reason, blinded by it. 

“Aemond! No!” you shouted hoarsely, trying to stand but failing as your head pounded like a drumbeat.

He turned to you then, lowering the rock to his side as he stared at you with the sudden realization of what he had done. Your uncle was filled with a surge of superiority inside him. He couldn’t think straight, and when he happened upon the five of you, people he was always told that he was above, something inside him that lay dormant finally broke free. He knew he was always capable of violence, but felt remorse when he saw your bruised nose, tear-streaked cheeks, and blood dripping down your throat. 

Did he do that to you? 

Suddenly, Aemond was blinded, sand thrown into his eyes as he stumbled back and heard the yell of Luke, unimaginable pain soon following. You watched in horror as your brother savagely sliced into your uncle’s left eye, blood pouring and splattering across the ground. 

Aemond couldn’t remember if you were amid his attackers. He surveyed the bruised and battered bodies before him and realized what he had done as his stomach fell to his feet.

He hurt people, just like Aegon. You would never entrust your secrets to him. His hands committed violence, but his heart desired to tell a different story—one of a strong and noble prince who went through many trials and tribulations to prove himself worthy of the princess's heart.

All you could hear were screams. Screams from you, screams from Aemond as you crawled towards him, sobbing. 

“Aemond!” you cried as he doubled over, falling into your body as he screeched in pain. 

“It hurts!” he wailed into your chest, his free hand clawing into your back. “It hurts! Help me!” 

You trembled, arms struggling to keep yourself upright against his weight as the flurry of guards rumbled inside your skull like thunder. Unable to make out their words as they moved, it seemed like you were watching the world from outside your body, from the lenses of another, as Ser Harrold pried Aemond from your embrace.

It hurt. Everything hurt—your heart, stomach, muscles, and head. You weren’t sure who led you, Baela, Rhaena, Luke, and Jace to the Hall of the Nine as a flurry of people gathered, pushing and shoving as you clutched your skull. The room was so bright, so loud, as you heard your uncle’s screams. You felt sturdy arms grab you by your shoulders, roughly moving you as if you were nothing more than a doll, as it felt like your eyes were about to burst. Steel blue fabric blocked your eyes as you saw the hazy image of a seahorse stitched into the fabric.

“Father?” You reached out, small digits feeling along the fine silk until the texture of scruff scratched at your skin. Blinking, you saw the aged face of your grandfather, Lord Corlys, as he gathered you and your brothers behind him. 

Where was he, and where was your mother? 

You felt sick as people scattered around you like seagulls when they discovered a bloated whale carcass, all trying to see the injured Prince, who cried until the Maester poured Milk of the Poppy down his throat. It felt like when you accidentally drank the water from Blackwater Bay, like a cold, nauseous sensation that sent beads of sweat rolling down your spine. 

“I don’t feel good,” you whispered to Jace as you leaned into his side, clutching your head and gut. He paid you no mind, peering behind your grandfather to see your other one appear, bearing total weight upon his dragon-head cane. 

“How could you let such a thing happen?” Viserys questioned Ser Harrold, examining Aemond as you heard the sickening squelch of flesh and rattle of metal tools. “I will have answers!”

Despite it undoubtedly being a harrowing sight, you wanted to be by your uncle, to hold his hand through it, to feel his pain with him, but you couldn’t. You needed to be with your brothers. What they saw and experienced would haunt them for the rest of their lives. Luke had taken Aemond’s eye. 

“The princess and princes were supposed to be abed, my king,” the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard explained, shame woven in his words. 

Viserys wouldn’t allow his knights to show such carelessness, surveying each of them with critical eyes. “Who had the watch?”

“The young prince was attacked by his cousins, your grace,” Ser Cristion nonchalantly replied. His words angered you for reasons unknown, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. 

Viserys turned to the room, looking between the two Kingsguards on opposite sides of the family as he hobbled on his cane. “You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!” he boomed in a way you hadn’t seen before. You were afraid he would direct his anger at you, Jace, and Luke, wrapping your arms around them like you were in any state to protect your brothers. 

“I’m very sorry, your grace,” Ser Westerling said, head hung low in unimaginable disgrace. You felt bad for him. There was no way he could have stopped this. He was doing his duty and serving his King. It was Ser Criston who should be blamed.

“The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes before, your grace-”

“That is no answer!” your grandfather yelled at Ser Criston, causing a clap of pain to thunder inside your skull. 

You wanted to go to bed, sleep for eternity, and be awake to everything as it was yesterday. Your brothers and cousins unbloodied and Aemond dragonless and with an eye. 

“Where’s mother?” you noiselessly questioned Jace, leaning into his ear and almost losing your footing. You needed to stay strong for them. 

“It will heal, will it not? Maester?” Queen Alicent asked, velveteen voice quivering with pain for her poor son. Maester Kelvyn finished stitching Aemond’s skin, throwing the needle and thread into a bowl with your uncle’s fleshy, viscous eye. 

“The flesh will heal. The eye is lost, your grace,” his nasal voice replied matter-of-factly.

You were going to be ill. 

Quickly, you ran through the multitude of people, pushing past Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, who tried to stop you before you vomited all the contents of your stomach onto a person’s unsuspecting shoes. The crowd gasped in revolt, those not close to you jumping back and clutching their chests in shock. You found yourself before the fireplace, basking in its comforting warmth as you leaned onto the hearth and looked at the unlucky soul you retched on. 

Perhaps the Gods had a twisted sense of justice as you saw the disgusted face of Aegon before you. You didn’t hide your amused smirk.

“Tend to the Princess!” the King shouted to the Maester, seeming to forget about his injured son and throwing his cane in your direction. 

A flurry of green came before pale gray, tenderly cradling your visage in her palms as if you were her child, inspecting it. You grabbed the Queen’s wrists and attempted to push her away as if her touch burned, but she resisted, struggling against your childish strength until she grabbed your shoulders. Her touch reminded you of Aegon as you burst into tears, muscles going limp and at Queen Alicent’s mercy. She turned your head in her grasp, examining you with the utmost care that made another wave of nausea through you. 

The crowd observed in anxious silence as Aemond turned to watch his mother treat you with the affection he wished to receive. Familiar hatred bloomed inside his heart, swallowing his dry mouth as he thought resentfully. He would still have his eye if he hadn’t been so concerned with you. 

“I want my mother.” you whimpered, lips quivering in fear as the Queen lovingly wiped the blood from your neck. 

The Queen released you from her grip as if you had struck her, chest heaving and wide brown eyes watering as she turned to her eldest son. Your mother was here; you didn’t realize it.

“Where were you?” she interrogated Aegon, smacking him upside down before he could answer. 

“Ow! What was that for?” he questioned, incredulously rubbing at the afflicted area grimly. You held no sympathy for him as you hugged your sides. 

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your siblings suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool!” she whispered heatedly so only he could hear, shaking his gangly body in rage. You looked at the Queen with confusion, thinking she had gone mad with grief when she said “siblings.”

As the grand Hall doors creaked open, a shaft of golden light spilled into the room, casting long shadows on the marble floor. With an air of elegance, your mother swept into the room, her silk gown trailing behind her. Following closely was Uncle Daemon, his formidable presence filling the space. Amidst the whispers and murmurs, your name and that of your brothers floated through the air, drawing your attention. Without a second thought, you moved toward her, the sensation of fingertips brushing your bicep as if a ghostly hand had tried to hold you back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Show me, show me!” your mother ordered you and Luke, softly running her digits across your body as you sobbed with relief. “Who did this?”

“They attacked me!” Aemond yelled before you could get a word out, leaning from behind his chair. 

You saw his wound on full display. An ugly crisscrossed row of stitches lined up his eye socket and onto his forehead, the flesh puckered and pink as it fought the infection. Your mother moved your face before you could stare any longer as a chorus of accusations from your brothers and cousins sang. You couldn’t get the image of his gash out of your head. 

“He was going to kill Jace! I didn’t do anything!” Luke loudly shouted as you scrunched your eyes with a painful wince.

“Enough!” you heard your grandfather yell, and you looked at him with helpless, watery eyes, but no one listened. 

“It should be my son telling the tale!” the Queen protested, fist pounding against her chest with conviction over the voices.

You continued to look at your grandfather in anguish, the King of The Seven Kingdoms, whom everyone ignored except you. “Silence!” he yelled, voice rattling inside his hollow chest as flem flew from his decaying mouth. 

The Hall went silent, quieter than the Stranger himself, as everyone looked at one another, stunned at the turn of events. People came here to mourn the loss of a daughter, an aunt, a niece, a wife, and a sister. Viserys looked at you and then at his son, his ivory staff sounding with every movement as you swallowed, the taste of bile strong. 

“He called us bastards.” you silently whispered to your mother, wiping the tears and snot from your face.

“Aemond, I will have the truth of what happened.” The King approached your uncle as he slumped into the armchair, stepping swiftly and with a newfound curiosity. “Now.”

“What else is there to hear?” Alicent questioned, clutching at her neck as tears threatened to spill. “Your son has been maimed, and her son is responsible.”

“Twas a regrettable accident,” your mother countered, moving her body to shadow the three of you from the onlookers.

“Accident?” the Queen repeated, astonished. “The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush! He meant to kill my son!” 

You realized the truth didn’t matter now. All that did was what people perceived it to be. 

“Twas my children who were attacked and forced to defend themselves!” your mother argued as she placed a comforting hand onto Luke’s shoulders. “Vile insults were levied against them!” 

Your grandfather turned from his son to the four of you as you inhaled a shuddering breath. “What insults?” he questioned, a dangerous lilt to his tone that you had never heard before as the Hall went silent. It raised the hairs on your arms. 

“The legitimacy of my children’s birth was put loudly to question,” your mother replied, her chin high yet holding a nervous waver to her voice. 

As she turned towards you, your mother’s eyes conveyed a silent but insistent demand to verbalize what you previously whispered. She wished everyone to hear these words from you—the compassionate and considerate eldest daughter known as The Gods’ Light among the common folk. With tears streaming down your cheeks and your chest heaving with emotion, you gazed at Aemond with a sense of guilt. You knew the words you were about to utter would carry an extraordinary weight. Both sides sought someone to bear responsibility for the turmoil, but you recognized the unspoken truth. 

At that moment, honesty seemed inconsequential. Aemond had suffered the loss of his eye due to Luke’s actions, and you keenly felt your failure to shield your brothers from harm. You would never fault at your duty again. 

“He called us bastards,” you confessed, lacking the anger and conviction of your siblings as you sniffled, refusing to look at Aemond. 

You watched as the Queen’s auburn tresses bounced with the slight affirming nod of her head, a look of disbelief and recognition crossing her face. At that moment, it became clear that she had informed Aemond about the deception, hardening your heart with betrayal. You had believed that she was different and loved you like family, and it stung to realize that she didn’t hesitate to spread lies that would hurt you.

“My children are to inherit the Iron Throne, your grace. This is the highest of treasons,” your mother reasoned, stepping forward to her slouched father as you attempted to reach for her hand to keep you hidden. “Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such awful slanders.”

As you gazed at your mother, her expression eerily mirroring that of Alicent’s, your lips began to quiver with unease. Was your mother implying that he should be subjected to torture? It seemed unfathomable. She couldn’t possibly be serious.

“Over an insult?” the Queen asked, shaking her head in disbelief. You knew she was trying to protect herself as you glared at the woman you once thought held the moon. “My son has lost an eye!”

“Tell me, boy. Where did you hear such lies?” the King seethed, face a hairsbreadth from Aemond as you whimpered.

“The insult was training yard bluster,” Alicent swiftly reasoned, eyes flicking desperately from her son to her husband. “The lot of boys. ‘Twas nothing-”

“Aemond,” your grandfather interrupted, ignoring his wife’s explanation. “I asked you a question.” 

Your uncle sat in solemn silence, his lone violet eye unwaveringly fixed on the ground while his father awaited his reply. Before he could utter a word, the Queen unexpectedly interjected. 

“Where is Ser Laenor, the children’s father? Perhaps he would have something to say on the matter,” she jeered.

Your grandfather turned, sparse brows scrunching together as he turned to Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. “Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?”

“I do not know, your grace. I… could not find sleep and decided to take a walk,” your mother answered for them, smooth palms wiping across her crimson skirt.

The Queen let out a derisive laugh, her disbelief evident as she shook her head at her old friend. It was impossible to ignore the precise timing of Daemon’s arrival into the Hall of the Nine, trailing just moments behind Rhaenyra with her tousled strands of golden hair. Alicent bore the knowledge of her friend’s calculated machinations, even as Rhaenyra’s children stealthily slipped out of their beds to perpetrate the heinous act of maiming her son. She couldn’t dismiss the nagging suspicion that Ser Laenor was likely engaged in equally treacherous activities.

“Entertaining his young squires, I presume,” Queen Alicent sneered like before, making you feel the same deep-seated ire. 

As no one dared to voice their opposition to her words, a glint of silver caught your eye from the corner, revealing Ser Criston Cole’s silent laughter. Like Ser Harwin, you felt the urge to wipe that smug grin off his tanned face, even though you knew it was impossible.

“Aemond, look at me. Your King demands an answer,” your grandfather began, staggering before your uncle. “Who spoke the lies to you?”

Everything went silent; the roaring of the fire and the crashing of the waves in the darkness were all that could be heard in the Hall. You understood that whoever Aemond implicated might not live til the next morn. You felt your throat grow tight and struggled to breathe, clutching at your throat as you swallowed the acrid taste in your mouth. Queen Alicent told him as you recalled the time in Helaena’s room. It confused you at first why she would spread such gossip as she seemed to hold a tenderness for you. Claiming your brothers were bastards went without saying you were, but you realized that whatever contempt she had within her heart weighed far more significant than any affection for you. 

Some of you wished to shout that it was her, but you realized that was something Alicent would do without a second thought if the roles were reversed, and you did not want to be like her. She was wicked and cruel, just like her eldest.

“It was Aegon. He told Aemond to call us that,” you answered as every pair of eyes flocked to you. You didn’t like how close your grandfather was to him, afraid that he might strike him for the consequences of his mother. You felt your heart lurch into your throat as you gained the courage to speak the words aloud of all the bad things he did to you. “And he… he”

Before you could finish, your mother tucked you into her waist, kneeling and pushing your face into her shoulder. You tried to pull away from her when his hand rested on your head, the welt sensitive to touch. 

“Don’t,” she whispered into your hair, disguising it as a kiss. They deserved to know. Everyone needed to know what awful Aegon did to you. You wanted to move against her, but your mind was foggy and muscles weak.

“Me?” Aegon exclaimed with shock, wide amethyst orbs looking at you with a broken expression. 

“And you, boy,” your grandfather crept towards him, the rhythmic tapping of his cane piercing your skull like an ice pick. “Where did you hear such calumnies?” Your uncle refused to answer him as his gaze bore holes into your being. There was no remorse in your heart for him. “Aegon, tell me the truth of it!” Viserys shouted, causing you to flinch and cover your ears. 

“We know, father,” Aegon replied fearlessly, refusing to remove his stare from your quivering form. “Everyone knows. Just look at them.”

Feeling the stares from the guests, you admired your uncle for not implicating his mother like a coward, removing your body from your mother, wiping the snot from your lip. Let them look, you thought, inhaling a deep breath as you felt your mother bring you closer. They would stare at you for the rest of your days. It was best if you grew accustomed to it now.

“This interminable infighting must cease!” the King declared, banging his walking stick off the pale stone floor. “All of you! We are family! Now, make your apologies and show goodwill to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your King demands it.” 

You grimaced at his words, and though you loved your grandfather, having been his favorite granddaughter, you disagreed with him. You refused to apologize for your family trying to defend themselves, and the Queen couldn’t help but agree more. 

“That is insufficient,” Alicent said, gesturing to her son. “Aemond has been damaged permanently, my King. Goodwill cannot make him whole.” 

Aemond’s fingers dug into the wooden framing of the armchair, and your chin quivered at the thought of what he might be feeling. 

“I know, Alicent,” Viserys sighed, “but I cannot restore his eye.”

“No, because it’s been taken,” she sobbed, clutching at her chest, flicking her hair back in a manner that reminded you of Aegon. “There is a debt to be paid. I shall have the hand of her eldest to one of my sons. To mend the rift and unite the House of the Dragon once more.”

“Alicent,” your grandfather breathed in a warning, yet still turned to his daughter, having a hint of hope in his violet eyes.

You looked at your mother, shock overcoming any sadness you felt as she shoved you behind her skirts like a hen would do to her chick, too stunned to speak. “I refuse.” 

The Queen shook her head, a sneer curling her plump lips and wet cheeks. Rhaenyra was a selfish, wicked woman with no inclination of decency. Why couldn’t she see this would be solved if she returned Alicent’s rightful daughter to her? The Queen steeled herself to the belief that she would have to fight for her right to have you. She knew deep in her bones that you would one day be by her side.

“Then I shall have one of her sons’ eyes in return. The Princess is innocent,” the Queen declared with a desperate wave of tears. 

Aemond looked to his mother, face impassive, and senses dulled from Milk of the Poppy. He didn’t recall telling her about what you did for him, though it was very little. It felt like he was becoming a second thought to his mother, who seemed only to be scheming on how to insert his niece into their lives. Aemond realized then that he would always be second in his mother’s heart to you, and he felt hollow at the thought, the love that once filled it for his niece ceasing to exist.

“Do not allow your temper to guide your judgment,” your grandfather warned Queen Alicent. She said nothing as her chest heaved, brown orbs flicking between her husband and old friend.

Believing the matter finished, the King backed away, but Alicent wouldn’t allow this to be the end. She looked to her sworn protector, an apathetic expression on her visage. 

“If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.” Ser Criston looked to the Queen with a startled expression as Luke cried for your mother. “He can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son.”

“You will do no such thing,” your mother steadfastly declared, ensuring the three of you were behind her.

“Stay your hand,” the King commanded as the Queen shook with rage, desperately looking between her husband and sworn protector. She reminded you of a deer cornered in a vast forest, listening to the distant howls of wolves closing in for the hunt.

“No, you are sworn to me!” she yelled, finger pointing to her chest indignantly. All waited for the knight to respond, the Lord Commander slowly bringing his hand to the hilt of his sword.

“Protect your brother,” your mother whispered, never straying her eyes from the Queen. Without further instruction, you stood before Luke, gradually backing him away from the group of people unnoticed. You understood Alicent would not hurt you, as did your mother. 

“As your protector, my Queen,” Ser Criston replied with a wary head tilt.

“Alicent, this matter is finished. Do you understand?” your grandfather declared, seething, his face centimeters away from his wife before he addressed the room. “And let it be known that if anyone’s tongue dares to question, the birth of Rhaenyra’s children should have it removed.” 

Breathing a sigh of relief, you let go of Luke, coming to take your place beside your mother as she thanked the King. The unsheathing of a blade cut through the room as the form of Queen Alicent charged toward your family, startling you, the King’s ancestral dagger in her grasp. Luke screamed as she reached the four of you, but your mother stepped in her path before Alicent could enact her rage. 

Suddenly, a person shoved into you, disregarding your existence as you found yourself on the floor. You noticed how the stone seemed to ebb and wave like the flow of the tide. Lord Corlys appeared beside you, lifting you into his arms, securely bound around your torso as he took you into the circle of your cousins and brothers, your mother struggling against the Queen. 

“You’ve gone too far!” your mother admonished the Queen as tears burned her eyes. She pushed against Alicent, and she jerked against her, trying to get to your brother.

“I?” Queen Alicent exclaimed, voice thick with anguish as you attempted to push out of your grandfather’s arms, kicking your legs into his side. “What have I done, but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, and the law while you flout to do as you please?”

“Alicent, let her go!”

The Queen still poised the dagger to strike, its new path being that of the heir to the Iron Throne as your mother looked helplessly to the onlookers. No one made to separate the two as they all stared in shock, the fire illuminating their faces like wraiths of death. Landing a hard smack to Lord Corlys’s neck, he dropped you as you shoved through the onlookers toward your mother. She put her life for yours and your brothers, but who would put hers before theirs? 

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? My happiness and dreams? It’s templed under your pretty foot again!” the Queen sobbed, her form trembling with hurt and rage, everything that she bottled inside her for years. 

“Release the blade, Alicent,” Lord Otto commanded, a man you hadn’t met until this morn, but she paid him no mind, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she pushed against her old friend. 

“Wasn’t taking her, my only light, enough for you? And now you take my son’s eye, and to that, you feel entitled,” she confessed, tears making the Queen’s mouth thick with wetness as you shouldered your way to the inner circle of people. 

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness,” your mother interrogated, a bitter grimace on her sharp lips. “But now they see you as you are.”

Alicent stared at your mother with an enraged offense that wrinkled her brows as she felt fire surge through her, and with a loud cry, she unthinkingly swung your family’s ancestral dagger. You screamed, running to your mother as you pulled her back, seeing a gash on her inner arm that gushed with blood. 

“Mama,” you wept, tenderly holding her limb as if it would break. 

Dropping the dagger, Alicent took an instinctual step toward you, a blanched, horror-stricken expression across her round face. She longed to go to you, to dry your tears and stroke your head against her bosom like your true mother would, but she could not. The terror and fear in your wide brown eyes that resembled her own sliced through her chest and laid her heart and soul bare as she felt a small hand slide into hers. The Queen hoped to see you standing beside her and thought herself mad before she securely took her son’s fist.

Much like you, Aemond knew his parent needed him. “Do not mourn me, mother. ‘Twas a fair exchange,” he expressed with a maturity beyond his years. He turned to you, a violet gaze once filled with joy now devoid, hollow, and one less eye. “I may have lost an eye but gained a dragon.”

You wished Aemond hadn’t claimed one this way and felt a hiccup wrack your lungs as you cried into your mother, Jace, and Luke coming beside you. You sadly realized this was the end of the fleeting companionship you cultivated with your uncle. All the stolen moments of reading, ideas, philosophies, and aspirations you shared under the cover of privacy were nothing more than air the moment he ran across the dunes. You would have still cared for him without a dragon, as before, but his pride wouldn’t allow it, and now he stared at you with an eye that you knew far too well. 

Aemond hated you. He loathed you and your brothers with a fire that would never cease. This was your fault. He lost an eye because of you—because he cared about his bastard niece and had the foolish dream of becoming the man you loved. You did not deserve it. You were nothing more than a common girl born from sin, undeserving of your station. He would despise you for the rest of his days no matter how his heart screamed to have you by his side when darkness fell and all that was left was the ghost of your touch. 

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Happiness never lasts in ASOIAF. I'm going to miss writing for baby Aemond and reader. They were so cute! From now on it's going to be messed up young adults with severe mommy uses and mental illness. I'm not going to say who has which XD. Thank y'all so much for reading and I hope to see y'all in the next chapter!

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[daenysx]

omg just read all of your aemond fics and 😭😭😭 actual perfection !!!! thank you for sharing your writing!!

not sure if this is a type of request that would interest you but maybe modern!aemond finding out you somehow got injured? not a creative prompt but we love a protective/possibly overreacting aemond with some fluff hehe 💙

thank you so much for reading them, angel, i really hope you like this <333

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

cw; stitches, reader cuts her hand and needs stitches but nothing graphic

it was a nice plan overall, really. you were sure everything would go alright, imagining the perfect outcome as you keep moving in kitchen.

well, until you had a work accident anyway.

"can i call my boyfriend real quick before you start?" you ask the doctor as you sit down, your injured hand feeling numb with all the adrenaline.

"of course." she answers. "we can start after."

you take your phone, press aemond's contact, and beg internally for him to be available. you don't think you can get your hand stitched without him honestly and the idea of him being in a meeting right now makes your stomach turn.

"hello?" he answers. "sweetheart?"

"hi." you say, your voice coming out weaker than you intend to. "is this a good time?"

"of course." he says. "what happened? something wrong?"

he's picking up the clues quickly, first of all why do you sound like that? and second why is he hearing some weird noises on the background?

"um- i'm at a hospital right now." you say, biting your bottom lip, telling him the name of the hospital after that. you need to lay out the details nice and slow, otherwise he'll drive like crazy to be here. "i was cooking dinner and i cut my hand."

"are you okay?" he asks, concern dripping from his voice. "what will they do?"

"the doctor's saying i need stitches." you explain. "i'm okay, i just- can you come here if there's nothing important you have over there?"

you hear some noises like a pushed chair and grabbed keys, aemond suddenly starts breathing quicker. "you are crazy if you think i'll work when you're literally getting stitches." he says. "i'll be there in ten minutes, okay?"

"aemond, please drive safe." you say, because it should normally take at least 15 minutes to get here from his office. you know he won't listen, he tends to be very irresponsible of himself every time you call him and tell him you need him.

"don't worry about me." he tries to reassure you and you hear him starting the car. "only ten minutes, okay, sweetheart? i'll be with you."

"okay." you say.

he keeps his promise really well, and only after ten and a half minutes you see him walking with huge steps towards you. not that you were counting down the seconds. the doctor is a lovely lady, she tries to keep your mind occupied as she cleans up your wound.

"it's a deep cut, but it's clean." she says. "i'll make sure you don't feel anything."

"thank you." you smile weakly. "oh, here he is."

aemond is by your side in a second, his eye quickly inspecting the situation. "are you okay? are you hurting?"

you shake your head. the doctor smiles. "i don't really feel anything right now." you say. "it was just a bit bad when i first came in."

"and the stitches?" he asks, looking at the doctor.

"she will need only a few of them." she answers. "don't worry, we'll make it quick and painless."

she starts doing her job, asks you politely to look elsewhere. aemond holds your other hand as you watch him, it's a bit weird knowing you're being stitched but not feeling it. the worry lines on aemond's face look ever most prominent.

"i'm fine." you give him an easy smile.

"how did it happen?" he asks, softly.

"i was planning on preparing a dinner table." you say. "we've been relied on take out lately, so i wanted to cook you something nice."

"baby." he says, his voice carries too many emotions.

"it's okay." you tell him. "it can happen to anyone, really. i won't even get upset if i have a scar. just another story to tell."

"it may leave a faint scar in time." the doctor says. "but nothing too big."

"that's good enough."

aemond clearly thinks that is not good enough but he won't tell this when you're getting your hand stitched. he only squeezes your fingers. he'll make sure you don't touch knives until you heal, that's all.

"and we're done." the doctor says. "let's wrap it up, and then you can go."

"thank you." you and aemond say at the same time. the wrapping doesn't take long, you're ready to leave the hospital in five minutes.

after the doctor telling aemond instructions about the bandages and the stitches, you walk to the exit. you're glad it's over for now, and your hand still doesn't hurt really. aemond waits by your side until you settle down on the passenger seat.

you expect him to close the door and sit down on his own seat but he doesn't. instead, he turns you to his side by holding your thighs gently and cups your cheeks. he gives you the warmest kiss on your forehead.

"i was terrified." he confesses, almost whispers.

"i'm sorry." you say. "it was an accident."

"i know, my love." he says, putting another kiss on the side of your head. "you don't have to say sorry, it's not like you did it on purpose."

"and now we need to order something again." you say, giving him a mocking pout. "i wanted to eat something homemade tonight."

he smiles at your dramatics. you're right of course, you've both been too busy with work lately and relied on ordering pizza or sushi, or something else. he thinks cooking together can be nice now that he left work early and you want something cooked in your own kitchen.

"i'll cook anything you want for us." he says. it's a good promise.

"you sound pretty confident." you laugh.

"you need to help me with the recipes, of course." he says, coolly. "anything with knife, i'll do it. you can only do harmless things if you want to participate."

you pull him to yourself to give him a kiss. he immediately surrenders, any teasing words he has in mind is gone with your lips on his.

you think he'll look really good wearing an apron.

[witchthewriter]

Spoilers for S2 Ep5 of House of the Dragon:

𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝟺/𝟷𝟶. 𝑉𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑢𝑝𝑠𝑒𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑝𝑖𝑠𝑜𝑑𝑒. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠.

Rest in Peace for The Queen Who Never Was... Rhaenys you WILL be missed. You were backing Rhaenyra left right and centre. You gave her support.

Rest in Peace To Our Red Queen...Meleys, you were a beautiful dragon and what they did to you ... baby you deserve better. You will always be remembered.

CRISTON COLE YOU ARE AN IDIOT. YOU ARE BRINGING HOUSE TARGARYEN DOWN WITH YOUR PARADING. Take your hand necklace off and be a MAN. THINK. THINK. I feel like he's scared of Aemond a bit lol....

Um I'm also confused ... so Aegon is alive. A bit burnt from flying around ... SUNFYRE BABY WHERE ARE YOU. ARE YOU OKAY? SEND A RAVEN BABY I'LL COME GET YOU.

Alicent who do you think you are?? Litte Miss Regency Era?? THAT'S THE WHOLE SUCCESSION PROBLEM BITCH?!

I love the relationship between Mysaria and Rhaenyra; it's brilliant. Power Duo.

(yes this is aegon in a box lol) Like ... wow ooh I wonder who is in that big human sized box... we haven't seen the King .. wonder where he is ... oh the box is going to the King's chambers ... huh how weird.

Alicent is most highly pissed that Cole, her secret lover, incel misogynistic liar didn't choose her, a woman to sit on the throne for the regency...

Daemon... his storyline is confusing me! Yes I understand Harrenhall is haunted, Alys is tormenting Daemon, but ... ITS CONFUSING ME GIRLS. Are we playing Jack from The Shining right now? I'm not in the mood for Redrum. Geezus. AND HIS MOTHER. WE ALL THOUGHT IT WAS AEMMA, WE THOUGHT IN THE PAST HE HAD AN AFFAIR WITH AEMMA. BUT NO. IT'S HIS MOTHHEERRRRRRR.

Oh my god I need a cigarette (i don't even smoke).

Because they are EVICERATING Daemon's character for me.

He always came off as brash and daring and violent. But he had positive qualities - like caring for his family. Keeping the Targaryen name in power. He would never do the things that he's doing this season, let alone this episode!?

And so the idea of the Dragonseeds are born and soon random people will be claiming our beautiful dragons - people we do not know are going to be given nuclear weapons and we just ... hope they're on Team Black? Okay.

All in all - Baela carried this episode.

She was an absolute power house. Bethany was stunning in all her scenes and not only her appearance was spectacular but she really is nailing the character of Baela. She's truly bringing her to life.

gif credit: @kissoflifes, @rhcenyra, @userparamore.

[wonderbias]

Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) - Chapter One

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Visenya Targaryen)

Warnings: MDNI, +18, language, violence, manipulation, sexism (style a la medieval), blood, angst, kinda dark?, kinslayer Aemond.

AN: The dividers are from @itbmojojoejo. Their work is awesome, and they make one of the prettiest dividers I've seen. Any questions/asks/any kind of message, feel free to contact me. Enjoy!

Dearest daughter, I've accepted the terms. You are right, as always, and this war will only lead to more losses. I cannot say that your father is of the same opinion, but I managed to convince him. We've lost too much…and I am a selfish woman, I cannot bear to lose another one of my children. I'll be seeing you in two weeks and I only pray for the time to go by faster. All my love for you, my sweet girl. Mother.

Visenya, All is fucked, sister. Mother and Daemon are devastated, she took the only thing that kept him away from his grief: the war, and he's fucking pissed. Joffrey pulled a joke on him…didn't work. Baela cut her hair short…nobody bat an eye. Rhaena, I'm so worried for her, before he was her betrothed Luc was her friend…the tear marks seem like they are permanent on her face. This war has taken their strength to live and, honestly, I don't give a shit about the Throne (like, Aegon can get impaled on a sword and I wouldn't care) when my family is suffering. I wish things were like before. All of us playing on the beach, Luke alive and you not married to the Kinslayer. I've tried…like you asked me, but he took our brother Vis…and, as much as I wish for him to be dead, I know it wouldn't be possible without hurting you in the process. So I'll be visiting the Red Keep for one last time…and you're welcome to visit me and Baela (she misses you too) in Driftmark. I need you. I need my sister. I miss you. But don't ever ask me again to make a truce with Aemond. Jace.

The Red Keep had never been livelier.

The walls had been covered with more heraldry of the Seven but also the old Targaryen and Valyrian decorations had been placed back. Servants ran quickly through the halls, carrying food or clothes; the King's Guards armor had been polished until it shined like silver under the sun.

The new Targaryen heraldry hung proudly at the entrance of the Great Hall, and inside it was filled with more. It was truly a lavish and expensive Targaryen party, a banquet and hunting celebration for the newfound peace in the Realm.

But Aemond paid attention to the details…

Like the green drapes, or the green tablecloths. The maids and servants were also in green, and the whole family had expensive clothes made in green for the occasion.

It was a Targaryen party, yes, but the Hightowers were the ones celebrating the rendition of Rhaenyra.

When he walked into the Great Council, everyone turned to look at him. An already drunk Aegon smiled -the same disgusting smile he had given Aemond before making fun of him-.

"There he is, Mother. Ask him and don't bother me," Aegon said as he raised his cup to be filled.

Her mother's tense gaze found his eye, "Is it true?"

His tongue poked his cheek while he sat down, his grandfather calculated eye didn't leave him, "Is what true?"

"That Alys Rivers has come as the Lady of House Strong," there was a plea in Alicient's eyes. 

His face was devoid of any expression, "Aegon legitimized her and she's an ally. I don't see any problem." His fingers moved to touch the pad of his thumb. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Alicient's face fell, her heartbeat pounding in her ears and desperation creeping up her muscles. Her face turned to her father, but he didn't return her look, Aegon seemed preoccupied by the fact that the wine didn't last too much. Was she the only sane person here?

"Aemond, if they find out-"

"I'm taking her as a second wife. The official version will be that Visenya is barren…and that she wasn't able to give me an heir," his tone was flat and devoid of any kind of emotion.

His mother looked like the Stranger had appeared in front of her eyes. 

Then Aegon laughed, a loud and unfunny sound, one that the maids knew well when he forced himself upon them, "You fucker! You're really humiliating our sister! Oh, Aemond, I never knew you were this funny!"

His mother grabbed her necklace, the points of the Star digging in her skin, "This isn't right. Rhaenyra will think that this is an insult…all of this will be for nothing…"

"If I may speak, my Queen," Lord Larys whispering voice was finally heard, "It is not a bad idea. It would weaken Princess Rhaenyra's claim even more."

"Rhaenyra and her family are coming to sign a peace treaty. We are walking on thin ice with them, and it is only by your wife's intervention that we have come to this point. If she comes to sign and finds her only daughter, unhappy and surrounded by rumors of infertility, with her husband taking a second wife…I'm afraid she'll have enough reason to put our heads on pikes," Alicient remarked, her voice trembling at the thought of everything going wrong.

There was a silence in the room, only interrupted by Aegon sipping sounds. For a King he has the manners of a drunken peasant.

"Prince Aemond will wed Alys Rivers a fortnight after the signing of the treaty. You must not be seen in public with the woman," the Hand finally spoke, calculating eyes fixed on Aemond.

Alicient's mouth went agape, "Father you surely-"

"This is for the sake of the Realm, my Queen. Besides, the Princess has no lands to her name…while Lady Alys does. Your son will be the next Lord of Harrenhall…you must think with perspective," the tone of his voice made Alicient blush and sit back on the chair.

From the corner of his eye Aemond noticed Aegon's smile…he took great joy at seeing his mother reprimanded like some little girl. Maybe that explained why he let their grandfather rule in his name.

Aemond stood, "If that's all, I shall retire. My King."

He didn't wait for Aegon's dismissal to leave.

As soon as the door opened, Aemond was greeted with the sun peeking through the curtains and the room filled with his wife's perfume.

They had been moved to bigger chambers after their marriage, ones that his mother had cautiously decorated in black and red, to try to make Visenya feel at home. The last rays of sunlight made it look more spacious and the view to the Blackwater Bay gave the sensation of being on the edge of the world…where nothing could stop you and nothing could reach you.

He walked into the room, his footsteps resounding in the emptiness of the chamber, and stopped at one of the chairs in front of the window.

"Wife," was all he said.

The woman in the chair turned, "Husband."

Visenya Targaryen was everything a woman of their house was supposed to be. Her beauty could only resemble that of the Goddesses of Old Valyria, with high cheekbones, plump lips and a soft straight nose. Her hair was the same shade of her mother's, but longer and always styled with intricate braids, while her eyes were a bright purple.

Sometimes Aemond wondered if her beauty was what made her so hard to love.

She was ethereal, a true beauty with impeccable manners, a proud daughter of Old Valyria.

He had been ecstatic when their engagement had been announced. Aemond Targaryen, the scarred prince, was to wed the most beautiful maiden House Targaryen had seen in years? A pure Valyrian bride just for him?

It was as if the Gods were compensating him for his losses, for his place in birth, for the lack of love he had.

So he had married her. Bedded her. Made her scream his name in pleasure, over and over again.

He had found a partner, the friend he had always needed, and a lover…all in the same person.

They were happy. 

But shit happens.

After his father had died, his mother had ordered for her to be locked in their rooms. Visenya had asked him, day after day, to set her free, to let her write to her mother, to use her as a messenger and a bridge for peace.

Otto had dismissed her and so had Alicient, when she had asked for reason, to let her intervene. Aemond had talked with his wife, over and over again, trying to convince her to stay quiet and to obey.

But she was too much like…them.

And then, Storm's End had happened.

Water dripped from his thick coat and from his hair while he walked through the hallways to their chambers.

He knew he had a report to make, but right now he needed…he needed peace.

When the doors closed behind him, he started to undress, his clothes leaving a puddle of water on the floor. 

He needed them out. It…it felt like the water was pulling him down like…

Like the tides over Luke's body…

Gods…he hadn't meant to. No, no, he didn't kill him, Vhagar attacked Arrax…yes, Vhagar had defended herself and her rider…she was old, surely everyone would understand…and she was a war dragon…she had tried to protect him…Arrax should…should have flown faster…but…maybe it was Luke's fault…who takes a dragon like that in the heavy rain? Yes, it…it was Luke's fault…

"Aemond…?" her voice sounded from the spot on their bed. "Aemond what…? What happened? You're dripping wet!"

Her footsteps resounded in their chamber and, suddenly, she was in front of him, her hair shining gold from the light of the candles. Her hands helped him take off his clothes quickly and covered him in dry clothes, her mouth moved but he couldn't understand her words.

He shook his head, trying to focus on her soft voice while her hands worked on him.

"...and you're gone. What's happening? Please, Aemond, tell me…I'm going mad and my husband leaves without telling me to Gods only know where and-"

"Storm's End," was his shaky answer. Gods, he was freezing.

Visenya furrowed her brows and moved him closer to the fire, her hands rubbing his chest to warm him, "What were you doing there?"

It was obvious she was deceiving herself, she knew what had happened the past days…there could only be one reason for his presence in Storm's End.

Still, his mouth and his mind weren't in the same rhythm, he had never been this cold, "Allies…Luke."

Her brows furrowed even more as she understood the meaning: he had been sent by his brother to seek an alliance with House Baratheon, her mother had apparently had the same idea so she sent Luke there too.

"Oh…" what more could she say? Every word she spoke about this matter left her in a more dangerous position. "I'll give you some wine to warm you up."

She moved off him and went to the little table where the pitcher and two cups were, after filling one she returned by his side and helped him drink, "Well…maybe this…this will bring a peaceful solution. I'm sure Luke will-"

"He had an accident," the wine had helped him get warmer…and to make his tongue loose.

At that, he felt her body stiffening and she moved to look him straight in the eye, "Luke…what? Is he alright?"

"He fell off his dragon…to the sea," was his only answer.

A gasp left her lips, her hands already shaking, "What? H-How?!"

When he didn't answer, her hands went to the collar of his shirt. The tears were already coating her beautiful face…she looked like the statue of The Maiden crying for losing her virtue, "What happened Aemond?! Tell me?!"

His hands gripped her wrists, his voice coming now a little more stable, "Calm down, woman. It…it just…happened."

Her cries were heartbreaking, "Why?! He…He was just a child! How…how did it happen?"

He moved to wrap his arms around her, her tears wetting his neck, "He fell off his saddle…Arrax was already dead."

They stayed like that for a few moments, hugging each other tightly. It had been a horrible accident…but Luke had should known better than to fly with-

"What do you mean that Arrax was already dead, Aemond?" her voice was only a whisper, her hands slowly falling from his shoulders while her head moved away from his neck. When her eyes found his she pulled away, eyes wide open and her lips curved into a sinister sneer, as if she couldn't control her face and emotions.

"I-I…" his mouth opened and closed, not knowing how to answer his wife. What could he tell her? "He…Arrax came too close to Vhagar…and his fire hurt Vhagar so…she chased him…" 

Her nostrils flared and her eyes still shined with tears, "You fucker…tell me the truth." 

Suddenly, their doors opened and Alicient came running , followed by Aegon and the Hand, the older woman's face contorted in pain and…anger.

"What did you do?! You cursed us all!" his mother's hands grabbed his face painfully.

"Mother I-" she didn't gave him time before a slap hit his scarred side.

Aegon was already laughing, delighted in the pain of others, "Oh, niece. My condolences. If you miss your younger brother search in Vhagar's mouth…some people say that his Velaryon cape is between her teeth. Keep it as a memory, your King allows it."

A toe curling scream was her only answer, her hands going to her chest…as if wanting to rip her heart out.

After that he had given her space while he distracted himself with his brother's duties. After a few weeks she had allowed him to touch her, some weeks later she had finally allowed him to bed her again. But there was something missing…

After that, fucking her had become something distant, her presence a memory of his new gained title and, slowly but surely, every little thing about her that he held dear in his heart just…turned into things he despised.

That's why when he had met Alys it had been easy to let her into his bed, and not only her some other women too. He found himself enjoying their touch upon his skin, his confidence coming back. After all…what better thing than to carry a Targaryen bastard?

Alys had been so different to Visenya, always answering his demands and searching for his company.

Alys knew the hardships of the world, knew how unfair it was and how hard one had to fight to be heard. Her drive and ambition was what had pulled him to her, the fact that she was everything that his mother would hate in a woman made it even more exciting, a witch that wasn't afraid to play with magic to get what she wanted.

Visenya wasn't like that. 

She had been handed everything in a silver platter. Name it, she had it. Love, richness, luxurious clothes and people kneeling at her feet. 

A mother that loved her, a grandfather who had loved her even more than he had loved his own daughter, three father figures that protected her and loved her fiercely. 

A dragon. Because of course that Visenya had to claim Silverwing at seven namedays. 

(His father had thrown a feast for a week after that. Everyone already calling her "the Good Princess")

Even his own mother loved Visenya, her hate always directed to the bastards, one could see it in the way Alicient's eyes shined with nostalgia and love every time the Queen looked at her.

He took a deep breath and sat beside her, "Visenya, I need you to listen-"

She held up a hand, she didn't like to be interrupted when writing.

He closed his mouth and pressed his lips tightly, for a few seconds the only sound that was heard was that of her quill against parchment. His fingers tapped rhythmically the arm of the chair, impatiens growing on him.

The door opened and two servants walked with their hands full of clothes, but they knew better than to be seen or heard. Their light footsteps were added to the sounds in the room.

Finally, her quill stopped moving, "Sorry, Aemond. I didn't mean to interrupt you, please, tell me."

His jaw clenched a few times, "Tomorrow your mother arrives and, I'm sure, she will hear of our troubles-"

"Troubles that all couples have," her lilac eyes were soft. This is weird.

"Yes. But, as I was saying, if she's displeased, the Peace Treaty is in danger and we can't afford that, can we?" his tone was condescending, as if speaking with a child.

Because you are a child, always sticking your nose where it isn't called.

To his surprise her hands moved to grasp his softly, "Aemond…I'm sorry."

"F-For what?" just what was she saying?

"I haven't been the best wife for you. I placed a blame on you because I was angry and torn with grief, and that was wrong and uncalled for. Day by day, I ask myself 'what could have been if…?' but recently I have started to ask myself 'What can I do now?'

But now I know: we have to work for our future. And my future is with you, giving you babies and loving them. And loving you…I have never stopped loving you. So, I'm asking you for another chance, to give our marriage a second chance for love."

His mouth was closed but his eye was wide open, confusion and surprise mixed in the lilac of his eye, "I…"

Be calm. Be calm. Be calm.

A sigh left her lips and her hands gave him a soft squeeze, "Think about it, please. We…can take one step at a time…so that we can remember why we fell in love with each other."

She stood up and grabbed her letter, then leaned down to kiss his forehead, her sweet and fruity perfume invading his nose.

When the door had closed behind her and the maids, he went in search of the pitcher and took a great swig of wine.

What the fuck was that?

Rhaenyra arrived the next day.

On dragon back, obviously. 

He saw his mother swallow and close her eyes in a quick prayer at the roaring of the dragons, Helaena beside her with her usual disperse demeanor and Aegon sitting on the chair at the head of the table looking…well, absolutely miserable. The only one who looked truly happy was Otto: he could swore he had never seen his grandfather's smile. The rest of the Councilmen were present, the Lords barely holding their excitement at the perspective of "Maegor with teats" kneeling.

The Great Hall was covered on Aegon's and Rhaenyra's heraldry, a symbol of the union and peace between the two factions of House Targaryen, and a huge banner of the red dragon in a black background was displayed behind Aegon. Just for this occasion, they all were wearing black and red.

"You should have brought your wife, Aemond. That would make Rhaenyra feel…at ease," whispered Alicient, her hand against her chest.

He bit his tongue before answering, "She didn't want to be here, mother."

Visenya and him had spoken the night before about this and she had expressed her desire to not be present at the moment of signing the treaty, a frown and sadness in her face as she said it.

Just then, the doors opened and then his half-sister appeared, followed by his uncle and their offspring. It was evident that no one except Rhaenyra wanted this: Daemon had a expression of disgust and his hand was at the pommel of Dark Sister, ready for a fight; Jacaerys seemed like he would rather swallow shattered glass than being here, and his betrothed had the same expression, and Lord Corlys looked absolutely furious…another chance lost for the Velaryons for their "blood" to sit on the Throne.

The expression on Rhaenyra's face was…shocking, to say the least. She looked like the shell of the woman he had met and heard of, her lilac eyes seemed…lifeless.

He was surprised to see the twin of Ser Erryk move forward, "Queen Rhaenyra, first of her name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms. Protector of the Realm."

They all watched as she walked forward, followed by two members of her Queensguard and Daemon, until she was face to face with Aegon.

"Brother."

"Sister."

In an extremely surprising act of manners, Aegon had offered his sister his arm. If Rhaenyra was shocked by it she hid it very well, the only sign of her surprise was a slight twitch on her mouth corner, and her hand placed on top of his arm, accepting his offer.

When they finally reached the table, where two parchments and two quills waited for them, Otto couldn't hold back and finally spoke, "It is a wise decision Princess. You are preventing unnecessary bloodshed."

Daemon looked ready to go over the man and make mincemeat out of him.

"Then my baby and my son were blood that needed to be spilled?" her voice was filled with anger despite it's tone.

She turned around to look at Aemond, pure hate in her eyes. It was obvious that Otto had fucked up and the treaty hung on a thin thread.

Alicient moved forwards as a last attempt to stop violence before it began, her hands clasped on the front of her gown and already bloody, "No one is implying that, Princess. We mourn the deaths of Princess Visenya and…Prince Lucerys, we are family after all."

Daemon scoffed and muttered "fucking cunt".

Taking advantage of the distraction, Aegon's Master of Laws moved forward, "If I may interrupt, your highnesses, we should proceed with the signing."

He handed Rhaenyra her copy of the treaty and motioned to a chair. After her eyes scanned those of Aemond and Alicient, she moved and sat down on the offered chair. Her eyes moved along the parchment, her face still devoid of any emotion as she analyzed the contents. After what felt like hours she reached for the quill.

That was it. That was the moment they were all waiting…the moment where she would finally renounce any claim for her and for her line.

"Is there any reason why my daughter is not here?" she asked no one in particular.

Alicient's eyes opened wide and her mouth opened and closed a few times.

"My wife didn't want to be present," Aemond stepped forward.

Daemon raised an eyebrow, "And why is that?"

Rhaenyra placed a hand on the parchment and looked at the Dowager Queen, "I will sign…but I would like to see my daughter. Surely you can understand…"

The soft and broken lilac eyes melted Alicient and she found herself incapable of denying a mother that simple plea -after all, Rhaenyra had lost two children and her only daughter was the one that tried to mend things between the two factions-.

The Dowager Queen searched Aemond's face but it was Aegon who gave the order, "Brother, go and fetch your wife. Now."

Aemond took a deep breath and nodded, before turning on his heels and walking out of the Great Hall, the path to the chambers on Maegor's Holdfast took him some time.

The door was unguarded -he had ordered all the white cloaks and yellow cloaks to be on guard earlier that day- so he twisted the knob for himself.

The chamber was dark, someone had pulled the curtains blocking the sunlight, "Visenya? Your mother requests your presence…"

Silence.

He walked in and tried to navigate, as best as he could, in the darkness of their room. 

"Visenya?" He repeats again.

Nothing.

By the corner of his eye he noticed a thin strip of light, so he walked to it and extended a hand, making contact with the thick cloth of the curtains.

With a movement of his arm, he pulls the curtains away, light invading the room and hitting every corner. Things are just like he left them this morning: a linen shirt on the back of a chair, the teapot and two cups on the table against the window, and one of his daggers on the nightstand.

But there's one thing that has changed.

His wife is nowhere in sight.

The sixth day of the seventh month - 127 AC I proposed. I have never heard of a woman who propositions a man -not a decent one, at last. But I did. I proposed to my uncle. And he said yes. His beautiful purple eye opened wide in shock when I asked him…as if he couldn’t believe it and then he grabbed me by my neck and asked if I was playing a game, that he would take one of my eyes if I kept on teasing him. I was not. I confessed my feelings. How I had always loved him -first as a sweet boy, now as a woman can love a man-, how I mourned for him when my brother took his eye, and how I wished for him to be my King Consort when my mother died.  I told him I loved him. He kissed me, and was not soft, his mouth on mine was demanding, but his hands on my hips were gentle, as if I was made of the finest porcelain. He is the only one I desire. The only one I will love for the rest of my days. Even if he does not know it, my heart already belongs to him.

Taglist: @snh96

[nrilliree]

https://www.tumblr.com/dreaming-of-the-reality/746890557891198976/rhaenyra-my-only-child?source=share

Hope you enjoy reading this...

Well anyways, I'm not defending Viserys, but you can't just expect him to not have kids or to marry a woman close to his age, I think you can count with one hand the amount of women from that century who married someone close to their age

Is the (probably) 12th century my love, at 21 women were considered dry and unmarriable

And also again, he had dementia???? And the comments just "well he didn't have enough dementia to forget about Rhaenyra" and it's like dude that's the point of dementia, they forget the newest memories and remember the oldest ones and guess what? Rhaenyra is like 18 years older than her younger siblings

Okay…Viserys was a bad father to EACH of his children and a lousy husband. Everyone knows that. We established this a long time ago. But if you're going to complain about him, people, do it with sense and truth…

Okay, I'll have some fun and detect the untruth and hypocrisy in @dreaming-of-the-reality's post

1) Viserys was not an "old creep of a man" when he married Aemma. He was five years older than her and he married her because he was ordered to do so. Just like Alicent ordered Aegon to marry 13-year-old Helaena when he was 15. Does that make him an "old creep of a man"? Viserys didn't beg his father to let him marry an 11-year-old. The king ordered, the father ordered - Viserys did it. However, his mistake, for which he is responsible, was that he listened and consummated the marriage when Aemma was 13… Right when Aegon consummated his marriage with Helaena. Where's the "fuck Aegon and Alicent" post?

2) "willing to sacrifice his wife for him" Another untruth. Yes, Viserys is a piece of shit because he ordered Aemma to be cut open without even the slightest thought of asking her opinion, giving her poppy milk - whatever. But he didn't sacrifice Aemma's life. She was dying. She and the baby would die. However, the maester said that the child has a chance to survive, Aemma does not. No matter what Viserys would do.

3) "nor paid attention to any of them while growing up" Another untruth! In the series, we see Viserys interacting with young Aegon several times (during his birthday, we see him with him three times in three different scenes), and later we see that he watched their training, knew that Aegon had tricked his nephews into bullying Aegon, and knows that Aemond believed the untruth again and was too gullible for his age. The fact that Viserys at that time no longer had fingers or an arm, was coughing up blood, could barely walk and had memory loss shows that he had little ability to take care of his children… And guess what? Alicent didn't raise her children alone. She had nannies, wet nurses and servants for this. She was a queen, not a washerwoman.

4) “Rhaenyra… my ONLY child” You know what? I really hope that people who write posts like this don't have sick people around them. Neither sick parents nor sick grandparents. Because they would probably get offended and leave, slamming the door at the first mistake of a name or forgetting a fact. My grandmother was terminally ill (it wasn't even Alzheimer's) and for a long time she thought my sister-in-law was me, and when she looked at me she had no idea who I was. And she had much better care than Viserys, who was high on poppy milk.

5) "Don't have more than one child if your not capable of loving more than one. Even better: don't force two woman to carry your children if your only going to love one…" A great plan for a king. That no one thought of it! Oh no, wait… Do you know why? Viserys had one child. Rhaenyra. In ten years, Rhaenyra dies - falls off a horse, gives birth, is poisoned… Whatever. And now the end of House Targaryen has come, because Viserys is too old and too sick to father a child, and his only heir has died.

[peachysunrize]

- Aemond's 🧸

https://www.tumblr.com/peachysunrize/761612449064583168/literally-jumping-on-the-back-of-that-anon-and?source=share

thank you nonnie! #piggybackride, carrying you on my back as we speak x also you're 100% right, i remember watching the promo Ewan did and him saying how chilly the studio was, and it's known when men are freezing they 'shrivel up' but in another promo this time with Tom, he whipped out the nickname "big balls" for Ewan so he in–fact was avg. size even in the cold temp! also can we talk about Aemond's sac size for a minute (i'm not a fan of a/b/o but i'll be using some of it's terminology), because of how big they are imagine the loads of come he'd spurt out... it'd be like a knot <3 it'd be leaking out and he'd fill reader to the brim and referring back to a tho(ugh)t reply you (yes you Rue!) answered with, he'd most definitely be fingering it back inside with his infamous pout saying "why aren't you taking it?" "stop refusing my gift rūs (baby)" blah blah blah...

https://www.tumblr.com/peachysunrize/761623535551758336/gets-flowers-and-cookies-for-that-lovely?source=share

and 🪴 emoji anon! thank you for the cookies 🍪 and flowers 🌸, they're greaty appreciated x also 🧸 anon fact time! i <3 🌼 daisy flowers, they're my fav (which is kind–a weird since they're a weed :( ...) anyway, he totally has a praise k!nk like never in his life has he recieved any only degradation since he was bullied by his nephews who are younger than him! and his older brother whose meant to protect him :( and referring back to another one of my tho(ugh)ts about a lucemond shipper's headcanon about Aemond having a sensitive right ear and heightened hearing due to his lost eye, if you were to whisper into his blind side's ear about what a pretty t!p colour, how he's *so* close bcs of how much pre he has, how pinkish his c0€k is that reader would get a dress comissioned in the same hex colour (modern!au), how big his sac, that he should know what a delicious taste (a slightly bitter, salty taste but mainly milky) his c0m£ is that next time reader blows him she'll spit it into his mouth while shoving her tongue inside to have a make–out session 🤗 he'd be a waterfall in miliseconds...

also i <3 all the appreciation i recieve on my tho(ugh)ts but it's YOUR blog Rue and i feel like i'm taking that away from you, i simply only come up w/ these ideas bcs of how h0rn¥ i am, i seriously think there's sumn in this spring air #hayfever that's making my ovulation 10x worse to deal w/ (it's Aemond's existence, a fictional character.) also i'm abt to get you all in your feels again (teehee 🤭) in my next note bcs it won't fit here :( i also don't want this note to be *too* long

Babe, I love your thots!!! Don’t think you’re taking anything from me because you’re actually making me love this blog more and more!!!

It’s not even 9am and you’ve got me all giddy and giggly because Aemond having a sensitive ear is such a blessing I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM JUST COMING FROM DIRTY TALK

[factorydefaultlu]

I hope you're doing well! Time for another either or, Tin

Imagine being Helaena's lover, imagine her fluttery kisses, your warm embraces, the way she'd rest her head on your chest or stomach. Imagine the stories you'd tell, the games of pretend you'd play - the roles you'd take: lord husband and lady wife, knight and squire, outlaws, Florian and Jonquil, Elenai and Durran Godsgrief, starcrossed lovers running away. You'd spend hours gently caressing each other's bodies as you spun these yarns, reminding each other of the places 'you'd been', or your 'shared past' and making plans for 'your future'. Later, you wouldn't remember who brought the idea up of children, like so many other things impossible for you - for obvious, rather irritating biological reasons. Then Helaena would bring it up again, and again and again, in each scenario, in each game. Curiously, you'd ask her why.

"I can't stop thinking about our baby.", she'd admit, blushing, talking of all scenarios - her hair and your eyes, your hair and her eyes, a blend of both. A boy, a girl, tall or short, shy or confident. All pretend, you'd thought, until she asks you straight. "Would you carry our child...if you could?". It takes a while for your smile to fade, to realise she is serious. "I would, I think."

She goes quiet, but not for long. Only a few days later, your eyebrows threaten to vanish in your hair as you go to meet Helaena to find both her and Aemond there. Her little brother, a shy, but gentle lad, at least to Helaena just barely of age. He's nervous, and fidgety, but determined and eager to fulfill his sister's wishes. Poor boy, you weren't sure if he had ever had a woman, and now he'd have two, because there was no way Helaena would have no part in the conception of your child.

2.

Alys had always scared you, at least a little. At Harrenhal, she had had a reputation. Good, hardworking girls like you knew better than to cross her path - everyone said so. But when the castle fell, who cared what the others had said? She was there, and alive, and she'd promise to protect you. How you did not know, but you so desperately needed something to hold onto as Prince Aemond burned all your life in the ground, only to quench the fire in blood. And Alys kept her promise - no Green soldier touched you, even looked at you. You had food, and access to the baths. Your things weren't raided, your room not seized or occupied, unless by Alys, of course. She holds you in the night, to keep you warm and make you forget.

You're scared at first, but she never ever hurts you, the opposite really. And she's all you had left, all you had to hold onto. Of course you wanted to make her feel as good as she made you feel, eager to learn the skills she had used to make your legs weak and your eyes roll to the back of your head. It was only fair, and beyond that, you'd do anything to stay close to her, to show your gratitude for how she had saved you, no matter how.

You say that too, again and again, but she never asked for anything, until she asked for everything. "What?", you'd ask breathlessly, feeling as if the ancient castle had crumbled away under you. "A child.", she'd repeat, stroking your palm. "It won't hurt much, and it would make me endlessly happy. Some life, after so much death, don't you want that?" Don't you want to make me happy? You were afraid, but you did. "Will it hurt?", you'd asked, Alys shrugged, smirking. "I'll be there every step of the way."

She hadn't included that the steps led you right to the bed of the Kinslayer, Aemond One-Eye. How you'd wanted to run, but Alys was right behind you, whispering in your ear and pressing kisses to your neck. You didn't want to disappoint her, ever, even if the smirk that met you and that glint of the sapphire terrified you to the core. He didn't say it, but you knew all the same that he wouldn't merely be giving the seed for the child Alys so desperately wanted, he'd take something from you too.

~❄️

Helaena, 100% I love her so much she's my wife

[lovelykhaleesiii]

ok I am going to be super-annoying because I have ideas.

first of all, I love this nonnie's idea and I absolutely love 'the great' as it is one of the few period dramas that don't attempt to accuracy and cracks me up so badly.

in all truth, one of my favorite scenarios with aemond and a s/o, is hypercompetent s/o keeping his ass in check. not obsessively or in an abusing way, just like 'aegon, time to wake up', 'aegon, if you keep drinking that then you'll fall asleep' 'the meeting awaits just the king'.

and she handles most of the stuff for him and aegon is very impressed but also a bit insecure: like does his wife love him, even? he doesn't seem to be doing anything and she is so pretty and he has grown chubby (not that she says anything). and yeah, she might cuddle up closer to him at night, brings him sweets when she knows he has been having a bad day and she is just generally loving in her own strict and severe way.

and then one time, she sits him down and she is serious - more than usual - and he thinks he somehow fucked up and that she got tired of him and chubby tummy... but no she is like crying and being like 'I am pregnant'.

(she has to repeat because aegon was like 'you what?', while gawking at her, because no thots behind those eyes).

and at first, he is confused as to why she might be crying, then hink that maybe she doesn't think him a fit father but then she blurts:

'I am going to grow so fat and ugly! and I won't be able to handle you! and then I'll have no use for you' full on bawling onto every insecurity she had carefully hidden and aegon - very confused because babe you are perfect in his eyes, although you could work a bit more on getting relaxed - comes to her side and kneels by her and first is like 'babe, we are having a child!' all happy because that's his baby in your belly!

he did that! he might be incompetent at kingdom ruling, but he put a baby in your belly!

and then he is like 'you think so little of me that I'd love you only when you are of some use to me? and not always. because I do always love you. I actually am the one who thought that you had no use of me'.

and his s/o is all like 'no no, babe, I just thought... I was... to be of use... you know... so you wouldn't put me aside and go back to wh*res'.

and aegon is like heartbroken because he should have done something but he just thought you so strong to handle things...

you have a good cry and then he is officially ready to handle everything that you want, any craving, although it makes you smile because 'I am just one month along, aegon' and he is like 'well... better be early. now what cakes do we want?'

boo I always love your ideas you know this 🥰

OMG YES!!! Aemond and his s/o would be so efficient like outstanding teamwork, sometimes even competitive with one another. whereas Aegon with a super competent s/o would make him question if they even genuinely love him, or if he’s even worthy for them. because his s/o takes care of everything even bathing, feeding and caring for him, he grows quite plump (let’s be real you overfeed him because you want to make sure he is well nourished & he eventually grows an appetite). he starts becoming insecure of his looks too!!! 🥺🥺🥺

ugh but the moment you tell him that you’re pregnant, his heart gets all fuzzy!!!! he assumes you’re just really emotional right now, and seeing you cry breaks his heart & hearing you say those awful things about yourself kills him!!

“you’re literally carrying my child, y/n.” he’s so proud of you, and will now be at your beckon call!!!!

he definitely would be heart broken to hear that the reason you bent your back for him, was so he didn’t think you useless and run back to his whores… he could never return to that life since meeting you, let alone now, you bearing his child 😫🥺

now it’s his turn to shine!!!! ✨

[darkestspring]

😅 I don't think Rhaenyran needs to help. Her cousin puts everyone in their place. What if Alyssa and Helaena are born? What would Rhaenyra's reaction be? Baelon/ Aegon/ Alyssa/ Helaena/ Ameond/ Daeron.

after four boys, it's honestly a surprise that your next child was a girl. aemond was only two years old. twins, twin girls. Not even Otto Hightower could ruin the high of happiness you felt as you cuddled them close to your chest.

"Alyssa and Helaena." You had decided on the names, refusing to hear otherwise, you didn't care what other names anyone else had to offer. They were your little girls. Your beloved daughters.

eight year old Baelon looks down at the sleeping twins. "They look sleepy." He remarks, Aegon had come out wailing and refused to quiet down until you hummed him to sleep. but his sisters weren't wailing, they were sleeping soundly.

"They'll need all the sleep they can get until they get a bit older." You explained to him softly, looking up as viserys entered carrying three year old aegon and two year old aemond.

"Mama." They both murmured softly, seeming to be completely oblivious to each other.

"Careful." Viserys warned them softly, keeping them in his hold. "Mama is recovering from having babies."

"Mama is never too weak for her boys." You cooed at them as they reached for you.

Viserys settled them into the bed at you sides. Aemond seemed almost entranced by the sleeping babies and you giggled, it was his first time seeing a baby after all, aegon was the same way and so was baelon.

"Rest easy, my love." Viserys rested his hand against your cheek and you beamed a smile up at him tenderly. "I'll keep all the annoying flies.... I mean, concerned nobles away." He smiled at you as if he hadn't just had a murderous moment.

[daenysx]

as a person who studies out of town, this was a little triggering for me to write lol. i hope you like it, i tried to do my best with reflecting all the emotions they feel. <3

requests are open!!

my masterlist

missing his sweet baby

your voice sounds sad and modern!aemond is quick to leave everything behind just to make you smile.nsfw.

it's too hard to miss someone. the feeling crawls in your heart like a heavy burden, you don't know how to carry it. it's because of him.

"i miss you. please, call me."

you leave a message to him with teary eyes.

aemond targaryen is the man of your dreams. he came into your life and shattered your heart for any other person who tries to have it. your heart belongs to him, you had accepted this a long time ago.

you are far away. this is only for six months, you are studying for your dreams. at first it was harder to be away from him, to get used to a new place and a new school. you tried to stay strong against the desire to go back and see him. aemond always supports you, keeps reminding you that this is only for six months and then it will be over. still, the amount of time you spend away from him burns you inside.

three months passed and you got used to it a little. focusing on your studies helped a lot, talking to aemond at least three times a day helped as well. he is working at his family's company and he is quite busy. he does anything to be successful and worthy, you know it must be hard for him. you wish to be with him when he has difficult time with all those bad feelings but there are still three months for you to go back.

you can't stop crying today. all you want to do is to crawl into aemond's arms and bury your face to his neck. he is not here, he is busy to call you back. you feel your heart clench painfully. today, you don't really feel like doing anything, there is no class or assignment to focus on. you are free and sad, sitting in your bed.

the city you now live in is beautiful. your life is the life you always want, you work for your dream career and you have plenty of new friends. the only thing missing is him.

your phone rings, his name is on the screen. you brush your tears away, try to clear your throat for a better voice and slide your finger on the screen.

"hey."

"my love? sorry, there was a meeting, i couldn't answer the phone."

"that's okay. how are you?" you ask, try to keep your voice steady.

"i'm fine, baby. how about you, hmm? don't you have any class today?" aemond asks.

"no, i'm free today. just staying in bed, doing nothing."

"hmm, that's good. you needed to rest."

his voice sounds like he still has a lot of things to do and talks to you at the same time when he works.

"we can talk later if you want. you are still at work, i don't want to take your time." you wonder if you sound sad because you can't control your voice this time.

you hear him chuckle on the other side. "please take my time. talking to you is the most important part of my day, okay? now, tell me how was your study group yesterday, anything new?"

you start telling him about the study group but then you hear another voice on the phone. "mr.targaryen, there is an emergency-"

aemond scoffs. "i'm sorry, sweetheart. i'll call you back."

"that's fine, i love you." you can't help your voice shaking this time. he says he loves you and hangs up.

you burst into tears once more. the crying doesn't stop, you quit trying. you stay in bed for hours, sleeping and crying. the emotions overwhelm you and you just give in. there is no point anyway. you close your eyes after a while and have a restless sleep.

you wake up a few hours later, the room is dark now. you feel extremely tired and your head is empty. you are hungry but you don't want to eat anything, instead you decide to have some coffee.

you drag yourself to bathroom first. you wash your face with cold water, hoping for some relief. then you go to kitchen and make a cup of coffee. you clean the little mess you made in kitchen and hear the doorbell ring as you reach for your cup.

you frown slightly, and wondering who that might be. you reach for the doorknob and open the door.

aemond is standing right there.

your mouth falls open. your sleepy brain can't process the fact that he is here. he gives you a few seconds, a happy expression on his face.

he opens his arms for you and you jump right into them. you wrap your arms around him like a koala and bury your face to his neck. his arms instantly reaches to your waist, holding you close. you feel his lips on your hair and you start crying again.

"shh, don't cry baby. i'm right here. oh, my sweet baby."

he cups your cheeks and presses a slow kiss on your lips. you hold his hand and lead him to your room, closing the door. he puts his bag on the floor and looks at your room.

"looks like someone here had a little crisis, hmm? why didn't you tell me you feel bad?"

you look at his face with shy eyes. "i didn't want to upset you, you are already too busy. i don't want you to worry over me."

he shakes his head. "i can't believe you think like this. nothing i do in that company worths more than you, okay? you should tell me about your feelings so that i can be with you, my love."

you kiss him with tears. you miss him too much, it still doesn't feel real. for three months, both of you never had the right time to fly and see each other, always waiting for the end of six months for your sweet union. the moment he heard your shaky voice and worried tone, he couldn't stay there. that was too much to deal with.

he keeps kissing you until he is longing for air. you lead him to your bed, tearing off his clothes desperately. "calm down, baby. i'm here, i'm right here. let me take care of you, please."

he takes off the rest of his clothes and helps you out of the shirt you wear. his shirt. you take off your knee socks as well and stay only in your panties.

he looks at you for a moment. "you have no idea how much i missed you. you have no idea what you do to me. i would leave everything and go to the end of the world with you just to put a smile on your pretty face."

you open your arms for him and he leans into you. he brushes kisses on your soft breasts and the spot between them. your neck crave his attention and he is quick to give it to you. he sucks and bruises, then softens his pressures with kisses. you become a whimpering mess under him quickly.

"it looks like you missed me, too. is that right, sweetheart?"

you nod. "yes, yes, i missed you so much. so much, aemond."

he chuckles. "it's fine. i'm here now and i will take care of you."

he kisses your lips and you kiss him back. 3 months of missing and longing for each other finally shows itself physically. your fingers travel in his hair, his beautiful hair. his hands are on your waist slowly reaches to your panties.

"let's take this off, hmm?" he smiles as you move your hips. "there you go."

he is painfully hard but he doesn't care. he has to take care of you first.

"aemond, i need you. now, please."

he nods. "would you like me to use my fingers, my love?"

you shake your head, "i can't take it, i just need you inside me. please, please."

he adjusts himself a little. "how were you taking care of yourself when i wasn't here, hmm?"

you show him your hand, playfully. "my fingers."

he kisses your hand. "and were they enough?"

you shake your head. "no, never enough. not like you."

"so, my sweet baby deserves a good orgasm, hmm? i think we can do that."

he slowly pushes himself to your entrance. you are already soaked for him, your muscles painfully throb around his length. he is inside you, holding the flesh of your thighs. he waits a little for you to get used to him. three months of agony and now he has you. he kisses your lips and starts moving when you nod approvingly.

he quickly finds a strong pace. his long fingers stroke your swollen clit. he loves hearing your moans, your closed eyes and messy hair. fuck, he missed the image too much, he is not gonna last.

"aemond, hmm, so close- so clos-"

he moves a little faster. "me too, baby. don't hold back, i need you to come with me."

your first round ends with his skilled fingers applying the right amount of pleasure on your clit and your walls clenching around him. he comes inside you with a deep moan and you arch your back as you find relief.

he stays inside of you. you look mesmerising like this under him, all those emotions you feel make themselves visible on your face. he kisses your lips and moves your hair from your face.

"are you alright?" he asks.

"mm-hmm. can we do that again?"

he chuckles. "don't worry babygirl. we are not done yet."

after your breathing turns steady, he brings his fingers on your cunt. the mix of your liquids keeps you wet. he quickly puts one finger in, his thumb on your clit. he pushes his second finger in as you try to move your hips.

his fingertips touch your g-spot suddenly and you scream his name. your fingers are not enough for you to reach there and when his fingers make a great job at finding and rubbing it, you feel like you'll cry.

"oh, my sweet baby. my beautiful baby, how much i've missed you."

he keeps moving his fingers and rubbing your clit. his free hand goes up to touch your hardened nipple. he squeezes the bud and you flinch. he touches the other one then, pressing and squeezing.

"i'm close, aemon-" you can't complete the sentence because he fastens his fingers in a way that makes you speechless. he is too strong, it's almost too much. you moan his name once more when you come, his fingers are soaked from your wetness. he waits for you to find your balance until he takes his fingers off.

he leaves the bed to get a clean towel from the bathroom. he helps you sit on the bed, your back against your pillows. he cleans the mess he made and brings you a cool glass of water.

"come on, drink it baby. i tire you too much, hmm? come on, finish the glass."

you drink all your water and look up to him. "i'm not tired. i feel perfect. i'm just- so happy that you're here."

"when i heard your voice and your words trying to hide your sadness from me, i left everything. i couldn't take it anymore, i had to see my girl."

you smile. "but you were too busy. what about the work?"

"i don't give a shit about the work now. they'll be fine without me."

"when will you go back?" you ask sadly. you need to know how much time you have with him.

"tomorrow night, baby."

you nod. "that's okay. it means we have time, right?"

"yes, and i will not leave until you have a smile on your face. a lasting smile, sweetheart. you don't know how much it hurts to be far away from you and knowing that you're sad."

you kiss him. "today was different. i've never been like this before."

he nods. "i know but you can't blame a guy for worrying over his sweet baby, hmm?"

you shake your head. "no, i guess i can't."

you pull him closer and he understands what you want to do. he leans his back to the headboard and makes room for you on his lap.

you adjust yourself comfortably on his lap and stroke his cock until it's hard for you. he watches the effect you have on him, he loves being undone because of you. you take him inside you and try to get used to the different angle. he holds your waist and guides you.

you start riding him, your fingers brush his chest and his neck. you move your hips in a certain rhytm. he tries to lift his hips and hits that sweet spot inside you. you moan, clenching around him. he encourages you to keep moving. you ride him through your third orgasm that night. that's not an unusual thing with aemond, you always manage to fuck each other until you are both satisfied. you come apart once more, this time it takes longer and your thighs are a little sore.

you lift your hips and take his weeping cock in your hand. you stroke him until he closes his eye, curves his mouth into a soft smile and comes on your fingers. you don't wait for your next move, take your fingers into your mouth and licking everything.

all he can do is to stay right there and watch you. he doesn't know how will he manage to leave tomorrow night when you look so perfect and when he is so in love.

after you are done, you put your head on his chest and pull the covers on both of you. he lays down and you bury your face to his neck, inhaling his scent. "i've dreamt about you holding me like this, all day long. almost afraid that i lost my mind."

"you are in the right place for your future, sweetheart. only three months more and you'll be back, remember? we can do that. we should do that."

you nod, wrap your arms closer. "i love you."

"i love you." he says it the second time for today but this time not on the other side of the phone, instead in the bed with you, holding you close.

"i think there is some wine in the kitchen. or we can drink coffee. oh god, i forgot to ask, are you hungry? i should've asked before i jump into your arms, i'm sorry." you say the last part teasingly.

"i'm not hungry. and you see, a man in the right mind always prefers you jumping into his arms before food."

"come on, that's too romantic even for you. let's stay in bed for a while, then we'll think of something."

he nods, kisses you hairline. you try not to think about the time he has to leave. you missed him too much and you deserve some good time with him instead of worrying and being sad.

aemond targaryen is the kind of man who would leave things behind just to see you smile. he takes care of your heart, supports you, and stays with you. your love for him feels overwhelming sometimes, how much more can you fall in love with him?

you press a kiss on his chest, ask him about his day. both of you know that you won't be sleeping tonight, it will be a night full of holding, kissing, talking, and touching each other. and it will be perfect.

[faces-ofvenus]

hello love, I already wrote to you on the application and now I have another one, only I'm afraid to seem intrusive, but I would like to see the Damon/eymond/luceris and yegon reaction to pregnancy? If you can, I would be glad to read it, I love how you write and wish you inspiration 🤭❤️

I'll tell you, being pregnant with Aemond's child would be a bit suffocating to say the least, that's only because he would be overprotective in the extreme, you both grew up in this relationship, and honestly arranged or not you had a deep feeling for each other, so much so that when you heard the news that you would be parents it was unimaginable happiness but also uncontrollable fear.

Besides the extreme care you would be subjected to, usually you already had a royal guard at your feet every day, but all this would double if not triple, Aemond suffers at the thought of a life without you or your son, you are in his view the only ones who could love him completely, He knows that he is not the most loved person in Westeros, and he knows that he has enemies left and right, so using his son and wife as revenge would be a very effective method of making him suffer indeed.

Aemond is a rather thoughtful man if we may say, he thinks, thinks, and thinks and usually none of his thoughts are good, such as losing you, what kind of father he would be, and whether his son would have a dragon or be like... He, it almost drove him crazy but you are always there to calm his thoughts, you let his head in your belly, and just ask him to appreciate the now, and the moment you two are experiencing, you are carrying a child, your child, hugging your belly Aemond maybe doesn't cry, but he feels a mix of so many feelings, such good feelings.

He already treated you very well, now the treatment is a thousand times better, you don't have to ask, or think much, he will give you everything, even if you didn't even think you wanted it, he will fulfill all your wishes, even if to do so you have to leave flying with Vhagar at 4 in the morning, it doesn't matter, what matters is you and your baby, he doesn't care about having to keep awake all the nannies, midwives or anyone else who is in charge of your care, because if you don't sleep, he doesn't sleep and neither do they.

Okay, Aegon is the one that would deal worse with children, or with news of his pregnancy unlike Aemond, they were both scared, but Aegon would be the worst at dealing with it, he doesn't feel ready for it, actually I don't think Aegon would ever feel ready for it, he was always told that it was his duty, but he was never really taught how to raise a child, not that he paid much attention, the oldest prince told you that openly, he felt that he could talk about this insecurity that for so long he kept inside, he would say that he didn't feel he would be a good father, the insecurities, the feelings of abandonment as if all his life he was nothing more than a second option, Aegon didn't feel much love from his father, it was strange, he felt a shadow of his sister, even though he was the male child, and for his mother he didn't even know, he didn't even know if Alicent at some point wanted to have him as a son.

This conversation was sure to happen when he was drunk, it had been so long since you had seen him so drunk, since your marriage and since you had established a real relationship, but the relapse of knowing that you and he were about to have a child life, made your body and your stomach turn around, he felt so confused, when he walked into your shared room drunk, you didn't know exactly what to do, in other situations you would yell at him, for appearing drunk to the point that he couldn't stand up, but seeing how hard it was being for him to cope... Aegon didn't want to get too close to you, knowing your smell and honestly not wanting to bother you, you knew that, mainly because when it's just you two your bodies would never be apart, and he would be taking your hand gently, while telling you all your worries, you lay him down on the bed and gave him a kiss on his forehead, Aegon wanted to deny it all, but still he didn't protest, feeling your big belly resting on his body, it was. .. Good.

From then on Aegon still kept a certain distance from you, but even so he showed that he was worried about you, like when he didn't take his eyes off you even from a distance, or when you realized that there was always a person near you to fulfill your wishes at his command, and at night he would sleep near you and your belly, hugging your baby and you protective mind once you stopped him before sleeping, and told him that honestly he would be a great father, not like Viserys, that he would be more, and that you would never treat your son like anyone's shadow, because he was the result of your love, he didn't say anything but you knew how much he was listening to you, and how much he really might have slept with the idea of having a family with you, a complete family.

Aegon would care for you even more, still keeping his distance, but honestly he still wasn't one to touch your belly much beyond sleep or when the two of you lay down, he didn't know how to do that, only when you gave him the initiative, but he would want his baby to know that he was there, and first, and he would love the possibility of it being a girl.

Daemon must admit that he is not very attracted to the idea, being a father. He always wanted to imagine it would be the two of you, no kids or anything like that, just you guys at least so honestly you were on the back foot about telling him or not, you also never saw yourself clearly in the role of a mother, but your heart warmed to know that the child was Daemon's, it obviously didn't take long for him to find out, and you didn't try to hide it even if you didn't say the first word about it.

You had long talks and were frank with each other, he didn't want things to change, you knew it was also quite scary, you got so used to your life, it was hard to think of another one, but you wanted the baby, and Daemon wanted you, he didn't try to get too close to your belly, even though he was very protective, you weren't the clingy couple but you always appreciated and longed for each other's company, so Daemon trusted him more with your protection than anyone else, and even if he said he could take care of himself he only trusted him for that process, but little by little you started to make him feel more secure to leave, as you said the child didn't come to suffocate you.

And for a while it was like that, Daemon would kiss you and give you affection as he always did, but he avoided your belly with a worrying fear or trepidation, you once got a little tired of this, as you sat down on his side you just snuggled into his arms, but directed your hands to his belly, Daemon didn't have much reaction even though his son was moving, his heart beat a little strong, he certainly wasn't used to that feeling, so for the night you would stay awake as you normally did before the pregnancy, your hand never leaving your belly and yours never leaving his.

He would bring your son into your conversations more often, subtly, you would smile whenever he did this without thinking, your nights awake would return as normal, where your hand would not leave your belly, Daemon would just... You were really feeling it, regardless if at first you didn't want or think about children, maybe it wasn't so bad, maybe it is, but he wouldn't do it alone, least of all you.

He trains Caraxes to protect you above everything and everyone, you are not a person of very strange desires for which he is grateful because he does judge your strange foods, but he always has someone on your side, he is not a man to wake up at night, even if he is not even a man to sleep, I say that he loves your pregnant sex, it is exciting if I may say so, to see you pregnant with his child, it seemed that it would not be so good, but he was well cheating, and you seemed to want him even more, he liked that.

I say that you and Lucerys were already planning to have children, so the news was very well accepted, maybe the best among all the boys, his heart beat stronger just with the thoughts of your son, of you, a family with him, this took all his daily thoughts, he would like to stay with you, not exactly for protection, but just to convince himself for all the time that this son was yours, he didn't know with what shade or characteristics his son would have, he cursed himself for having these thoughts, but honestly it doesn't stop loving him more, with your appearance or his, it was his son and it didn't matter.

He was the one who helped you the most in terms of food or even massages, he wants to make you feel good, and you never liked to bother the poor maids, it was funny to see him doing little massages on your feet, so attentive, so focused, you would kiss him and say you were simply the luckiest woman in the world, which he would laugh because it is totally the opposite, you run away from your quarters to the castle kitchen, almost having a heart attack when one of the guards thought you were thieves, but it's just the prince and princess "stealing" food, even with the embarrassment you continue until you are 100% satisfied, he would taste all your gororobas, and praise them all, but in his mind he just wants to spit them out.

Lucerys feels so insecure about what kind of father he would be, he doesn't know how to be one, what would make a good father, he hasn't had the best father in the world, even though he loves his father deeply, but you would reassure him, that he would be a good father figure over his son, that he is simply the sweetest and kindest man in the world, and he is so grateful that you are taking this step with him, he usually gives you several kisses on your belly, and he is one of the ones who talks the most with your baby, sometimes you feel that it is just a piece of meat between these two people who already seem to love each other so much.