#call me a dragon rider the way i will

[lale-txt]

FUCKKKK MY STUPID BAKA LIFE FUCKKKK FIFLLLL FUKCCCC AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA FUKCCCKKKKKK NO ONE TALK TO MEEE I CANT DO THISDDD ASDFJFKDLDLW

[gracexthoughts]

Māzigon arlī naejot issa.

(Come back to me)

jacaerys velaryon x betrothed!reader

warnings; talk of injuries and blood, canon divergence, angst ending with comfort summary; reader was sent to rook’s rest and when she returns injured, jace nearly looses his mind  a/n; reader is targaryen and in my head she is maybe rhaenyra’s cousin but i didn’t feel like fleshing out a whole family for her so you can use your imagination. 

Jacaerys has been going mad. The Lady Y/N has been gone for hours, and every second more that the Prince was ignorant of her fate was a second closer to him flying off in search of her. She’d volunteered to fly to Rook’s Rest and face Cole’s army herself. Her dragon, Silverwing, is the largest dragon with a rider second only to Vhagar, but she’s been gone too long for the prince’s liking. He’d begged her not to go, begged his mother to send him instead, and neither had listened. He couldn’t deny the logic of the choice, but the longer she stayed at battle, the more images of her broken and bloody flooded her betrothed’s mind. 

The Prince and the Queen stand on the balcony off his chambers. Queen Rhaenyra has tried calming her son, but to no avail. The sun nears the horizon, setting the sky on fire in shades of gold and red, but Jacaerys only watches for signs of his betrothed. 

“I’m going after her,” Jacaerys blurts out, unable to contain himself any longer, pushing off the stone half wall. 

“No,” the queen says firmly, moving to block her son’s path. Ever since the death of Prince Lucerys, the queen has kept her eldest son close, refusing to send him out on dragon back. 

“She should have been back by now! I will not just sit here and await news of her fate,” the prince argues, his voice strained and fraught. The Queen’s heart aches at the panic in her son’s eyes. 

“Y/N is a fierce dragon rider. I am confident she will return soon,” she says placatingly, reaching up to cup his cheek, but Jacaerys pushes her away. 

“No, I can’t just sit here. She’s to be my wife; I’m meant to protect her, not sit safely by in a castle while she risks her life protecting my birthright!” The prince exclaims and pushes through the doors to his chambers, but a dragon’s shriek stops him in his path. He whips around, his eyes scanning the skies for the sight of his betrothed. And then he sees her. 

Jacaerys sprints through the halls of Dragonstone, his steps echoing against the stone as he makes his way out of the castle. He should feel relieved, but the prince cannot shake the fear clutching at his heart. 

As Jacaeryrs reaches the mouth of the Dragonmount, all his fears come to the forefront. Y/N isn’t in the saddle; instead, she’s clutched in the silver claws of her dragon, her arm hanging limply down. Silverwing sets her down gently before landing herself, and Jacaerys swears he can see the sadness in her massive silver eyes. “No, no, no,” Jacaerys mutters, dropping to his knees next to her body, tears blurring his vision as he pulls her body to him. Her clothes are covered in blood and singed, an arrow lodged in her shoulder, and a gash on her side. Her silver hair is dark with ash and crimson, but breath still moves through her lips shallowly, a small beacon of hope. Without any thought but her care, he scoops her into his arms, cradling the body of his betrothed to his chest and running as fast as he can back to the castle. 

“Call the master!” He bellows to the first guard he sees, his voice fraught and cracking, the princely tone he maintains forgotten in his panic. “Hold on, my love.”

As he pushes his way through the doors of the castle, the Grand Maester and the queen, followed by Ser Lorrent, rush towards the pair. “Help her!” The prince shrieks at the maester, all manners forgotten, and his expression is wild with fear. Used to such behavior, Grand Maester Gerardys simply nods and inspects the body in the prince’s arms. 

“We’ll take her to her chambers. I’ll meet you there,” he says and turns, hurrying off to gather supplies. Ser Lorrent steps forward, his arms outstretched, to take the girl from the prince, but Jacaerys pushes past him, following after the maester up to the stairs and hurries to her apartments. 

As they reach her chambers, the prince lays her down gently on her bed, not caring for the state of her bedclothes. He stays close to her side as the maester gathers his things, watching her closely to make sure she stays breathing. Soon, Geradys comes to her side. “Excuse me, my prince,” he says softly to the young prince, but he doesn’t seem to hear. Rhaenyra steps forward, her hand wrapping around her son’s shoulder. 

“Darling, let the Grand Maester work,” she says softly, pulling Jacaerys back a few steps. Rhaenyra tries to coax him away to wash and change, as he is now covered in his betrothed’s blood, but he refuses. 

“No, I won’t leave her,” he says, pulling against his mother. 

“We won’t; just give him space, my darling,” she coos, pulling him to her and wrapping her arms around her darling son, whose body is shaking. He relents to his mother’s pull, allowing him to be held like a child as he watches the maester struggle to keep the love of his life in the world of the living. 

Nearly an hour later, the maester turns to the prince and queen, blood staining his front and hands and his eyes weary. “I’ve done all I can, your Grace, my Prince. It is up to her spirit and the gods now. But she is a fighter, if ever there was one,” the Geradys says, his eyes soft for the Prince of Dragonstone. The Queen thanks him, but Jacaerys isn’t listening, moving forward numbly. He kneels next to the bed, his shaking hands reaching for hers, the ash and blood washed clean by the maester. He presses a gentle kiss on her skin, gripping her hand tightly between his own. 

“Y/N, my love,” the Crown Prince whispers, reaching up to brush a strand of silver hair from her brow. “You have to fight. Please, you can’t... I can’t lose you as well, please. Kostilus, māzigon arlī naejot issa. Ko-Kostilus,” he begs, his throat closed tightly as tears slip down his cheeks. Please, come back to me. 

***

It’s a full day before Y/N wakes, and Jacaerys has refused to leave her side. Late afternoon light shines into the room, beams of light cutting the air and washing it in an amber glow. Amethyst eyes flutter open, blinking in the brightness of the room. 

“Jace?” She mutters; her voice is rough and her throat is burning. 

“Y/N!” Jace gasps, jumping up from his seat in the center of the room to kneel at her side, gingerly taking her hand in his. “You’re awake!” he laughs in relief, his vision blurring with tears of joy. He drinks her in, her weary smile, and the lilac swirls in her eyes he thought he’d never see again. 

“How long-?” She begins groggily, attempting to sit up by the wound in her abdomen, causing her to grimace. Jacaerys gently pushes her back down to the pillows.

“Don’t move, my love. Silverwing brought you back one evening past. You were,” the prince swallows, his throat constricting at the memory, “badly wounded. Gods, I feared you’d not wake.” He reaches for her, his calloused hand cradling her head. 

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, my prince,” she smiles. Even wounded and weak, her humor remains. Jacaerys laughs through his tears, moving to sit on the bed and covering her face in kisses, making her giggle until it causes too much pain in her stomach. 

“What happened?” Jace asks, sitting back and holding her hand tightly. 

“Aemond was there, and Aegon. It was a trap,” she sighs, grimacing. “We were engaged with Sunfyre when Vhagar appeared... I had to fly close to the ground to get out from between the pair, and their archers took advantage.” 

“Gods, I will kill both of them for laying a hand on you,” the prince says, his voice crackling with anger.

“I’m alright, Jace,” she coos, reaching up to cradle his beautiful face in her hands. His anger subsides at her touch, her gentleness soothing the fires raging inside him. 

“You’re wounded; you nearly died. If you’d arrived minutes later, you would have been passed by the time you returned to me. My love, Icouldn’t bear it if you-”

“Jace-”

“Promise me. Please just promise me you’ll be more careful,” the prince implores, his amber eyes fierce and wide. 

“I promise, Jace. I do, and I will,” she says earnestly, their eyes locked for a long moment. “Come here,” she whispers, pulling on his hands to bring him closer. “Lay with me?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You could never. Please?” Y/N’s eyes plead with the prince, and he forgets any notion of courtly manners or what is proper for two betrotheds as he comes to lay in her bed. Careful of her injuries, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her frame into his, and she rests her head against his chest, sighing in relief at returning home to him. There they lay, the future king and queen of the Seven Kingdoms, basking in each other’s warmth and thanking the gods for another day of safety in this war.

[emmaofnormandy]

Imagine Aegon is the father of your children.

Warnings: fluff all the way; canon divergence; long post.

( @dracaryxzs for you! One hopes you might like seeing Aegon happy here)

***

• How it all began…

You are his twin, his other half… What one feels the other feels it too. Naturally, as a result, bond came. Courtiers like to say how “wherever the Lord Aegon goes, Lady Y/N is after him like a loyal puppet.”

What they don’t understand is that you and him are two sides of the same coin, blood of dragon, despite the prince calling you his sun, to which he himself gravitates.

“I cannot not believe you are never bored whenever we are together”, says Aegon.

You both are blossoming into youth. You are the only one he trusts, the one he is naturally charmed to. But something about his age doesn’t let him admit there are feelings too.

“I am unlike any other”, you tell him in turn, a smile on your rosy lips. “We came together to this world, Aegon.”

He gives you a shy smile, lowering his gaze—you tamed him, like, it is said, your grandmother had tamed her husband, your grandsire, when they were both the same age.

Lively and so full of life, not even Aegon can deny you anything.

“Let us ride, shall we?”

And not waiting for a response, he takes you by the hand and in between giggles and chuckles the two of you go after your respective dragons.

Sunfyre has been enamored by Dreamfyre and as a result the female dragon has put some eggs. As soon as you are told this, you tell the object of your affections that:

“See, Egg? Evident signs that we are bonded right here”, and you show him the different coloured eggs.

Aegon smiles at you. How can you make him forget the scars of his troubled soul? How can you even sweep away grey clouds, making it seem that it is possible to find happiness?

When looking at your serenity, at how beaming you are before the eggs you cling yourself to, the prince sees himself in you.

You are the light of my world, Y/N.

As if you feel the tenderness his thought emanates, you turn your head at him and give him an egg.

“We are grandparents now, I’m afraid.”

That makes him cackle. A sound so rejoicing, full of life. Few could tell to have ever heard Lord Aegon laugh merrily.

“Too young for that. Come, Y/N!” And then turning to Sunfyre, Aegon is the image of a boy who finds love and happiness where at home such were taken from him.

You smile warmly when seeing the golden dragon almost smiling itself the moment he welcomes his rider.

A bond as strong as the one I have with my beloved.

Then you are distracted by nearly losing balance when Dreamfyre comes at you, resting her head against your face.

“Calm down, girl. I am not as heavy as you are”, you giggle, gently laying your head over the scales of your dragon, whom you claimed when you were ten years old. “Ready to fly high? To some adventures, eh?”

A sound comes from your dragon’s throat. It’s almost as if she speaks excitedly: “Aye, let us go! I’m ready for it!”, which only increases your good mood.

Now here you two are, flying synchronized, one being the extension of the other. Skies may have some clouds, but sun shines high with some warm breeze that announces summer.

“I suggest we could fly atop Dragonstone”, you tell Aegon over your shoulder. “There’s a spot no one goes there.”

“Rhaenyra is settled there with her children”, says Aegon with an unread expression.

You shrug your shoulders.

“So what? I’ve been there frequently and not once she scoffed me off. I doubt she ever knew I flew to this spot.”

And you flash him a mischievous smirk.

Aegon laughs in turn, realizing he’s unable to deny you anything. Flying as high as he could, there’s little need to tell Sunfyre where to go. As if the creature captured the rider’s thoughts, he flies exactly to where he wants… as does Dreamfyre.

It is almost as if both dragons suspect something may come up… even if you and Aegon don’t know that yet.

*

There is a lake in the midst of vast forests, where silence reigns and there is no sign of any living being. A few hills here and there separate the spot of the rest of Dragonstone.

“How did you come here?”, Aegon inquires you, intrigued by this unusual place. Hardly a man acostumed to wild life, his eyes scan these new surroundings with a mix of suspect and curiosity.

You are untying your hair and loosening your gown—you often ride Dreamfyre in your feast gowns, much to the Queen’s dismay— when you say:

“I don’t think I fit very well at court. I tend to flee whenever I can.”

Aegon is somewhat distracted by your curves, and how poorly hidden your curves are beneath the fabric you dress. He swallows hard, then says:

“We are betrothed. One day you’ll be queen.”

You flash him another of your typical mischievous smirks.

“When have I never performed my duties, brother?”

Aegon shakes his head, but he’s chuckling when he comes next to you.

“Well?”, you tilt your head and the prince seems to notice how handsome you look, wild and free—the way you are born to be. “Aren’t you going to swim with me?”

“Is that a challenge?”, he asks you in a whisper.

You like how he looks at you. Maybe this makes your nipples hard. And maybe this makes him burning inside.

“Perhaps.”

And without waiting for a response, you jump in. Aegon smirks, soon following you.

***

• Summer Children.

His kiss is indescribable. No words can do justice to the warmth his breath gives you, to the bliss it inspires you, to the affection it craves in you. Oh, where are the words when we need most?

Whispers at court regard you and Aegon as the “Baelon and Alyssa” of your age, perhaps two souls reincarnated. Whatever the truth, all you can think about is the taste of his lips against yours.

Not only that, there is more to inspire. As you are riding Dreamfyre in the absence of your lover—he’s been summoned by your father to attend the council—, summer breeze cannot cool down the heat in your heart. And you still recall that night.

Where no living being is found amidst corridors, when, for a moment of weakness, no guard lies awake; when unprotecting is at stake… Here he comes, visiting you.

Boldly so, his steps are silent—right under his demeanor there is a haunted boy, famine for affection, filled with desire to please… but above all, a very insecure man who needs to play pretend before all.

Even though you are not like any other, being in fact the only one who’s witnessed his fragility, he remains blunt in his manners.

Yet when the door opens… and you stand there in your line nightgown with your hair loose, his confidence dies.

“I feared you’d not come”, but there is nothing blunt or arrogant in how you welcome him; but rather tenderness from the moment he’s engulfed in your arms. “I missed you, Aegon. Too much I long for you.”

“My dear Y/Nickname…”, he buries his head against your neck and from the moment he inhales your scent, no pride is strong enough to resist the obvious. “In vain have I struggled to repress my sentiments for you.”

Hearing these words give you the reassurance you’ve been longing.

“Oh you took long enough, didn’t you? I’ve been kept in waiting, but it was worth it.”

One kiss and you are doomed. Aegon waits no longer, not anymore. He takes hold of your face and presses his lips against yours, biting your bottom lip and slamming the door as he leads the way.

“You must promise, though”, you push him away gently, much to his frustration. But you need to be sure… just in case.

“Anything”, his voice comes out in a plea.

You raise your eyebrows and Aegon, though sensing what might be asked of, is willing to pay the price. He is not letting go of you.

“No more whoring. I am no woman of sharing”, you tell him seriously.

Aegon smiles warmly, but you spot relief behind his eyes. He grabs you by the waist and says:

“I am yours and yours alone, Y/N. We came out to this world together, didn’t we? So we are dying together as well.”

“That is some drama you put in there, love”, you smirk before clashing your lips against his.

That night you came to learn you loved riding your dragon and we are not talking about Dreamfyre.

*

Nine moons later, the results of you and Aegon’s indiscretion comes to the world with a very strong pair of lungs.

“Here comes a very strong prince”, so announces the midwife.

You are exhausted after almost 12 hours in labour, a puddle of sweat and blood, but from the moment you are told you delivered a boy, you beamed proudly:

“I performed my duty well.”

Aegon, in the meantime, is left waiting outside, pacing impatiently in the corridors.

“One wonders what witchcraft has Y/N used to keep you in this state”, muses Aemond in his unusual show of sense of humor.

The prince of Dragonstone doesn’t bother answering Aemond, rather limiting to shooting a glare. It’s when Princess Helaena comes with a smile on her lips.

“My brothers.”

“We salute you well, sister. But pray tell us the news soon: is Y/N well? How’s the child?”

“She is doing great, Aegon. She’s recovering and getting some rest. As for the child… congratulations! You have a healthy baby boy!”

Aegon is paled by the news and even Aemond gets somewhat concerned with his older brother, holding him by his elbows.

“Are you well?”

“A boy”, he mumbles. “Y/N gave us a boy.”

“Our line is safe”, Aemond agrees. Then turning at Helaena, he asks: “Has the name been chosen?”

“Well, Y/N wants a traditional name… so she decided to have the boy named after you, Aegon.”

No one had ever seen the prince Aegon this overjoyed. The way he smiles�� who wouldn’t be captivated by this sight? Even Aemond smiles too at this sight. Of all the misadjusted family, at least two of them found happiness… though when Helaena looks at him, he’s not too far from it himself.

“I must see her!”

Ignoring Helaena’s advice that no man is allowed in these chambers, Aegon, tradition-breaker, storms inside, demanding to see you.

You have just left your privy quarters dressed in a line nightgown with your hair wet and recently brushed when he comes at you.

“Husband!”, you giggle quietly when you are engulfed by his strong arms. “You should wait for me. I am not churched yet and we must…”

“Fuck traditions. I wanted to see my wife”, says he, peppering your face with tender kisses before looking at you with the devotion of a lover. “Are you well?”

You cast him the most infatuated glance to him, locking your hands around his neck as if there were no witnesses in the room.

“I am, thank you. Nothing that I could not handle myself”, you assure him. “Aegon, I performed my duties. I gave you a son.”

“Even if it wasn’t, as long as the child is healthy and you are healthy too, nothing else matters”, he whispers in your ear.

The prince cannot state enough his relief in seeing you well and safe. By how he holds you close, it is as if he needs another reassurance that childbirth will not steal you of him.

Feeling his fears, you raise your chin and give him that blunt gaze that marks your lively personality which he’s familiar with.

“I have no intention in leaving you alone in this world, unless you choose another to be in my place.”

Aegon gives you a meaningful look before snorting and scoffing at the same time.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N! How could you possibly consider I’d find a substitute for you? I thought you knew me better, woman.”

You both share a quiet laugh before kissing as if to seal an unspoken vow. Not too far from the scene is the Queen, with her father by her side.

“Who’d know this was coming?”, she sighs, content with the merry scene that rolls before her gaze. “I may have been deprived of happiness myself, but on the other hand… thankfully such a burden is not placed on the shoulders of mine own offspring.”

“Do not be so dramatic, Alicent. This match is as fruitful as yours was”, says Otto, nonchalantly like usual. “But at times even I admit that I can see Baelor and Alyssa once more.”

A struggle he keeps to himself, since Otto and Baelor never saw eye to eye. Leaving such personal haunting aside, eventually this summer prince also named Aegon is seen placed in the arms of his mother.

“He’s a lovely child”, murmurs Aegon, whose head is now resting over your shoulder. “I cannot stop looking away of his delicate features.”

“Perhaps you should hold him”, you suggest in a whisper since the regal baby is asleep in your arms.

“I do not wish to wake him up”, says your husband, though you may detect a degree of panic in his voice.

You find his concern adorable, respecting his time. This afternoon, you and him watch over your newly born soon in great delight of how your love produced a handsome baby.

“Our summer prince”, you beam at him.

Aegon shares a smile with you. He looks thrilled before kissing your forehead.

“I cannot believe I am his father.”

“A doting father as I’m sure you will be.”

At times he doubts it, but this is a shadow he is unwilling to cast in such a bright moment. All Aegon can say is:

“Thank you for believing in me.”

He does blush though when you kiss his cheek and tell him in turn:

“How could it be otherwise? As my other half, you shall burn as bright as any dragon, my sun and stars.”

***

Little Egg, as he is called, is getting every attention Aegon’s father never bother doting his son. Whilst you are breast feeding, just nine months later his birth, a baby girl whom you named Alysanne after your favourite ancestor, father and son are found together at the nunnery.

“Your mother told me she plans to take you and Dear Alys to fly our dragon. I am not discouraging her, but we should best wait for a litttle bit, uh?”, says the protective father whilst rocking his lively and often chuckling boy in his arms. “Oh so you think this is funny? Are you planning to take after your great-grandparents?”

Aegon is holding him still, playing with the boy when the moment is interrupted by a maid.

“Excuse me, sire. His lordship must be fed. And your lady wife has summoned you.”

“Very well”, he stands, with the prince in his arms. “Before I handle you my precious jewel, Lady H/N, I must be certain you have been fed well. After all, you are responsible for feeding my child.”

“Indeed, lord. I am healthy and robust from the day I started the service”, the woman says seriously.

“Good. I appreciate it”, he nods before kissing his son’s temple. When seeing he’s about to weep, Aegon softens: “Do not cry, my prince. This is not a farewell. I shall go back later, I assure you.”

Reluctantly, he parts, though he does wish to go back when hearing a cry. Aegon pauses at the door but when looking back, Lady H/N has taken little Egg inside the quarters.

*

“How is mine faire ladies?”, the soon to be king asks you the moment he steps inside.

“Looking better than you”, you giggle quietly. “What happened, love?”

“I had to leave him with those women”, Aegon grumbles.

“I know. I don’t like leaving him there either, but thanks to you I can only feed one child now”, you laugh quietly.

Alysanne, whose hair is as silver as her parents’s, makes noises and Aegon, now more confident in how handling babies, carefully holds her.

“If I remember well, you were climbing on me when I was trying to sleep just the day you were churched”, Aegon chuckles.

“You keep saying that to yourself”, you lean to kiss his cheek. “You have been blessed with a handsomeness that makes me difficult not to merrily engage in marital affairs.”

Again, your bluntness makes him blush, a deed only you could brag in succeed doing so. Aegon gives you a long, meaningful look.

“Watch your tongue, woman. You don’t know what you are saying.”

But his mischievous smirk tells you precisely otherwise. The connection you two share has never grown stronger…

***

• Midnight Sun.

Little Egg is barely three when Aegon takes him for a ride in Sunfyre and you take two year old Alysanne with you as you mount Dreamfyre. It’s late night and since this family is restless, there’s no obligation to stop them in doing so—as if any would do in other period of the day.

“Fly high, Dreamfyre”, you whisper the command in High Valyrian and the dragon doesn’t need much before taking impulse and… weeeee, you and your excited child finally get to the skies.

“Let us do this, S.”, Aegon tells his beautiful golden dragon, resting his face against the creature’s forehead. “Look, this is the son I told you about. He gets my name, and Gods hope that he takes after my best traits. Not that I have many, but…”

Sunfyre buffs as if saying: oh please, you may not be perfect, but you have great qualities! To which Aegon blushes and smiles.

“You are a great friend, Sunfyre.”

“Daddy”, says Little Egg. “Fly!”

“Calm down young man. Are you in a rush?”, Aegon chuckles at his demanding son.

“Mommy… flew.”

“Oh. She’s always in a rush that woman you call your mother. Let’s do it then.”

And soon Aegon’s smile would spread larger if possible as Sunfyre finally spreads his large wings and begins to fly, the reason why Little Egg is happy.

When they are finally getting higher, Aegon makes sure his son is enjoying it. He wants to create this memorable moment that shall reinforce the bond father and son has.

It’s working since little Egg turns his head to his father and says:

“Amazing!”

“Are you enjoying that, my boy?”

“Yes! More, more! Please!”

Aegon laughs happily and does as requested. They fly as high as possible before diving below to meet you and Alysanne. The scene makes the prince emotional. His wife is looking as beautiful as wild as the day he realized he loved you to an unbearable point.

Sensing his gaze, you turn your head to meet him. And feeling your feelings, Dreamfyre is instantly drawn to Sunfyre.

“How’s it going?”, you ask him, eyes sparkling with delight for making it possible an old dream where you and Aegon, together with children of your own, would fly with your respective dragons.

“Just the way you wanted”, so Aegon tells you as if he’s read your mind.

You and him exchanged loving gazes and sweet smiles, letting the dragons taking the reins of the situation.

Indeed, as your children beam, Dreamfyre and Sunfyre dance.

Such is the dance of the dragons.

**

The toddlers are snoring by the time you and Aegon land.

“They should sleep with us in bed this night”, he suggests you, as he passes an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss on top of your forehead.

“I agree”, and then you instantly pause before the door of the red keep. “Aegon… I would like to thank you.”

“What for?”, he asks you, intrigued.

“For giving me these lovely children, for being the partner I’ve always known you’d be. For being my other half.” You smile softly. “I’d die for you, I hope you know that. You deserve to be loved, to all that you are given.”

“Y/N…”, he’s surprised to hearing these words of you, even though Aegon never needed proof of how you felt for him.

You stroke his face, wiping away his tears. Both of you know that you only have each other, and yet it’s enough. Specially now you have children of your own.

Resting his forehead against yours, the prince closes his eyes and kisses you.

“Whatever our souls are made of…”

“���mine and yours are the same.”

***

• Epilogue.

Alysanne is fast asleep when she dreams of dragons. Dragons that fight, dragons that die, dragons that survive. In the midst of chaos, she runs after her father.

Where is he? She calls out his name only to find another who is not in his throne. She wakes up thus, unable to remember the usurper’s identity, a mere shadow. But it’s enough to scare the seven year old princess.

She leaves her privy chambers. It’s still dark, but she needs to be sure he’s there somehow. Alysanne runs barefoot to her parents’ chambers. She opens its door, holding her breath but praising the Gods there’s some fire in the fireplace.

She sees you’re sleeping next to your father, but when seeing he’s there…. what a relief. Yet, the princess is scared to go back to her chambers.

“Papa”, she pokes him. “Papa, wake up.”

Aegon groans lightly, but when seeing it’s his oldest daughter calling him, he only rubs his eyes and makes sure to sit properly, careful in not waking you up.

“Lys”, he calls her affectionately and is probably thankful for wearing some proper garments after early copulating with you. “What’s wrong?”

Alysanne quickly throws her arms around his neck.

“I am scared. I don’t want to lose you”, she sniffs.

Aegon rocks her in his arms, smiling quietly for doing so.

“You’re not losing me. Who told you this nonsense? Has Little Egg been teasing you again?”

“No. He’s been good, actually”, she tells him, holding tightly against his neck. “I had a nightmare.”

For some reason, this gives him shivers. But Aegon isn’t inclined to dig into this deeper.

“A nightmare is just a nightmare. Come. Do you want to sleep with mama and papa today?”

Alysanne smiles brightly. She then kisses his cheek just as you are waking up.

“What happened?”, you ask, worried. “Are you well, my dear Alys?”

“She had a nightmare”, Aegon tells you as if this doesn’t mean anything, but one exchange of glances tells you this isn’t anything. Yet neither should feed it. And you agree. “So I’m letting her sleep with us tonight.”

You nod discreetly before kissing your daughter’s forehead.

“Of course. Like the good old days uh?”

And you watch as Alysanne makes herself comfortable in between you and your husband. Aegon strokes her hair as you cover her.

“Do you think…?” Aegon leaves the question in the air.

“Let us leave to concern about it tomorrow. It’s late.”

Aegon agrees. But neither looks forward to go back to sleep. As he casts a fond gaze at the princess, you take his hand and give it a small squeeze.

“It’s going to be all right. Helaena is doing well with it.”

“I know. But…”

“And at the same time she’s not like Helaena”, you tell him. “Let us not confuse things. It’s going to be well.”

“I just worry. I do not wish…”

Aegon looks away, remembering the wounds of his neglect childhood. There’s little need to explain since you can feel what he feels.

“Aegon, my love. We are not like them”, you tell him firmly. As he looks at you, you stroke his hair and place a lock of his messy hair behind his ear. “We are not like our parents. We are better than them. I’d not say so if I believed otherwise. Just look at how Egg seeks to impress you, how Alysanne came after you tonight… or how our twins Jaehaerys and Jaehaera often run after you.”

Aegon smiles quietly.

“How can you convince me that easily?”

“It’s the truth I speak. Besides… I have to tell you something”, and here you whisper. “I conceived again.”

“Oh how fertile we are!”, Aegon chuckles merrily.

You both kiss, before settling to lay down, careful now with your daughter fast asleep in between you. Shadows for once are pushed and in late night midnight sun comes to shine bright.

Oh these delights…

[novaursa]

A Flame All Her Own

- Summary: Caraxes always knows how to snatch all your attention for himself. Which leaves Daemon jealous of his own dragon. 

- Paring: sister!reader/Daemon Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Next part: dragons after dark

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The morning air is thick with the salt of the Narrow Sea as you stand by the cliff edge, Caraxes sprawled before you, his great, sinuous body stretched luxuriously along the rocks. His scales glisten, the deep crimson reflecting in the morning sun as his slitted eyes, always watchful, follow your every movement. The dragon’s head rests lazily beside you, large enough that one of his breaths could likely knock you off your feet, yet gentle as he huffs softly, nuzzling your hand as you scratch just beneath his horned jaw.

“You’re spoiling him,” comes Daemon’s voice from behind, laced with a tone that’s both disapproving and… sulking? You smirk without turning around, knowing full well what that look on his face must be: arms crossed, brow slightly furrowed, mouth drawn into that familiar pout that’s often mistaken for mere arrogance but, today, has a hint of jealousy.

“Am I?” you respond, your voice light with feigned innocence as you continue to scratch Caraxes. The dragon rumbles in pleasure, tilting his head like a hound angling for more affection. You can feel Daemon’s eyes drilling into your back, but you don’t let up, laughing softly as Caraxes leans closer, nearly knocking you sideways in his enthusiasm.

“Yes, you are,” Daemon steps closer, his dark cloak billowing slightly as he stands beside you, looking down at his dragon with mild disdain. “He’ll be insufferable now, demanding pets and scratches like some slobbering mutt.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” you tease, glancing at Daemon. “You’re as spoiled as Caraxes is.”

Daemon’s eyes narrow at the comparison, though a glimmer of amusement tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Spoiled, am I?”

Caraxes’s head shifts, his large, amber eyes drifting from you to his rider as if sensing Daemon’s displeasure. He rumbles again, a deep sound that vibrates the rock beneath your feet, and Daemon gives his dragon a flat look.

“Not you too, you great overgrown lizard,” Daemon mutters. “I am your rider, remember? Mine, not hers.”

Caraxes blinks slowly, looking almost unimpressed. You swear, for a brief moment, that the dragon’s gaze shifts back to you with what could only be called affection. It’s as if he’s saying, “Oh, but she’s my favorite.” You can’t help but laugh at Daemon’s expression.

“I think he’s simply decided that I give better scratches,” you say, grinning.

Daemon arches a brow, eyes glinting with a mixture of challenge and feigned affront. “Is that so?” He steps closer, nudging you out of the way so he can place a hand on Caraxes’s scales, patting his dragon’s neck with exaggerated enthusiasm. “You like me, don’t you, boy?” he asks, scratching roughly—too roughly, if Caraxes’s sudden flick of his tail and indignant huff are anything to go by.

“See?” you laugh, folding your arms as you watch with a smirk. “Gentleness, Daemon. Perhaps Caraxes prefers a softer touch.”

Daemon looks at you with a pointed glare. “Are you suggesting I’m not gentle?”

“Oh, Daemon, of course not,” you reply, lips twitching as you fight a smile. “You’re a Targaryen knight in shining armor.”

“Knight, indeed,” Daemon snorts, but there’s a glimmer of mirth in his eyes as he takes your bait. He shifts closer, one arm snaking around your waist, pulling you to him with a quick, possessive motion that sends a thrill down your spine. “Tell me, then. Should I be jealous of my own dragon? Or are you so starved for attention that you’ll take affection where you can get it?”

His words are laced with mock offense, but his hand holds you firmly, his thumb brushing against your waist in a way that belies his teasing tone.

“Jealous?” You raise a brow, feigning surprise. “Of Caraxes?”

He leans closer, voice dropping to a murmur. “Perhaps I ought to start breathing fire to gain your favor, then.”

You tilt your head, amused by the thought. “Imagine how well that would go at court,” you muse. “The Rogue Prince, reduced to petty flames for his sister’s affection.”

Daemon chuckles, the sound warm and rumbling, yet his hand on your waist tightens. “I’d reduce more than just my pride to flames if it meant keeping your attention on me.”

Caraxes huffs suddenly, a low rumble that sounds suspiciously like laughter, if a dragon could laugh. He lowers his head to nose at your shoulder, nudging Daemon’s hand away in the process as if to say, “She’s mine, actually.” You burst out laughing, leaning into Caraxes’s scaled cheek, feeling the warmth radiate from his skin.

“Seems like he’s made his choice,” you say with a sly smile, watching Daemon’s face flicker between exasperation and humor.

“Oh, has he?” Daemon drawls, arching a brow as he watches you and Caraxes, clearly unimpressed. “Well, perhaps I should be jealous, then. I might have to fight him for your favor.”

You laugh, raising a hand to smooth over Daemon’s arm. “Poor Daemon,” you tease, your tone laced with affection. “Unseated by your own dragon.”

He rolls his eyes, though the warmth in his gaze softens his expression. “If Caraxes intends to keep you for himself, he should remember who his true rider is.”

Caraxes turns his head slightly, eyeing Daemon with a look that, impossibly, feels smug. You laugh again, patting the dragon’s neck in reassurance. “Don’t worry, Caraxes. There’s room enough for both of you.”

Daemon grunts, slipping an arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer as he casts a sidelong glance at Caraxes. “You’re lucky I tolerate you, you red menace,” he mutters, though the fondness in his voice is unmistakable.

The dragon lets out a huff, almost as if he’s rolling his eyes, and settles his head back down, clearly satisfied with his small victory. And as you lean into Daemon’s side, his arm wrapped securely around you, you catch the slight smile on his lips. For all his talk, the Rogue Prince is more than happy to share your affections—even if it means indulging in a rivalry with his own dragon.

[myladysapphire]

Two Halves of a whole

Aemond had always understood you in ways others could not, your bond so deep nothing could severe it. A bond so deep that they would do anything to save the other, even if it meant being trapped with the enemy.

based of this request

word count: 6,208

cw: MDI+, 18+, Smut, Angst, fluff, love conffessions, arranged marraige, cheating. (im so sorry Cregan i love you i swear), not proofread!

Aemond Targaryen x twinsister!reader (or Creaganswife!reader)

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

authors note: so sorry i haven’t updated in two weeks! ive been in such a writting slump but here is finally some work! <3

Aemond had always understood you in ways now one else had.

Born together, you had never seen the day apart. Your lessons spent together, your rooms shared until you where three and ten.

And even then that did not stop you form spending every moment together.

You were so similar, not only where you twins but it was almost as If you where the same person, two halves of a whole.

You were kind, where he was cruel.

Your were beautiful where he seemed himself ugly, no matter the words you spoke to call him otherwise.

Where he was bold, you where shy.

And where you thrived, he drowned.

But something shifted the day Aemond claimed Vaghar.

You had both been dragon less, teased for it and faced the constant bullying of your older brother and nephews.

you had spent days talking and studying dragons, and where Aemond started to loose hope, and yet you pushed him to believe he could claim a dragon.

And he did, the biggest and most fearsome dragon in the world.

And you were left behind in the process.

That night, no one told you of what had transpired until you were dragged from your bed and greeted with the bleeding face of your twin brother.

Your house divided, and your brother a changed man.

Form that day he became cruel and cunning, hellbent on being the best swordsman. the best dragon rider. Skilled and wise.

And though you where there for it all, helping him and watching. It was all from the sidelines. As if you only mattered when he was involved.

that’s what your family thought anyway.

Until you became of marital age, and your father decided a alliance with the north was necessary.

You had always thought you would marry Aemond, and yet here you where on your way to winterfell about to marry a stranger you had never met.

Your nephew Jace had talked of him often, recounting his days spent in Winterfell. And though he  sounded honourable and kind, you feared what it would be like to be apart fork Aemond, the man who was truly the other half of you.

even after years of drifting apart he was still everything to you.                                                                                                

“are you excited, aunt?” Jace asked, he and the rest of your family where all accompany your north, using the journey as a tour of Westeros.

“As one can be to be marrying a stranger I suppose” you mused, looking out of the window.

Whilst your siblings all rode their dragons around Westeros, you were forced to ride with your nephews and cousins, with dragons too small to withstand the long journeys.

“Cregan stark is a good man, I’m sure you with have a good marriage” Baela spoke, looking up from her book.

You scoffed, “so everyone has met him but me?” you mumbled to yourself, shifting uncomfortably.

“I always thought you would marry Aemond” Rhanea spoke up, she and you had strike a surprising friendship, despite her distaste for Aemond. Your common lack and want for a dragon bonding you both.

“As did I” you spoke longingly, looking up and seeing the shape of Vaghar in the distance.  

The rest of the journey was spent with minimal words spoken, and your eyes never leaving Vaghars form.

Ever since they announced your betrothal Aemond had been distant, still ever present as he was, but distant.

The day he had found out he had stormed out of his rooms and ignored you for the remainder of the day.

And though the day after he had carried out your old routine, it seemed different, strained.

Though Aemond was never a talker, he was never silent around you. If he didn’t respond with words, he responded with actions. Whether it be brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, caressing your hand, or bringing you flowers.

But since then, the casual touches or small gifts of flowers or your favourite snack or bringing you a book he thought you’d enjoy, stopped.

Conversation was strained, always ending on an awkward note, and when you had wished to confront him on it you had found he had gone to the silk of streets with Aegon.

You felt hurt, betrayed almost and yet it was you who was marrying another, leaving him behind, even if you had no choice in the fact.

And the tour had been even worse.

Your days spent in a carriage alongside people you hardly knew, with Jace and Luke the very boys who had once teased your mercilessly. The very people who had caused Aemond so much pain and even harsher words in the past years.

And yet you were forced to put on a pretty smile and put up with their chatter. Though had no quells with Rhaena, finding many conversation flows easy with her.

You felt all alone, stranded in a marriage yet to happen and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

The journey around Westeros was as long as it weas boring, full of lords trying their hardest to appease you father, spoiling you all with gifts and pretty words.

You were grateful once you started to visit the northern houses, they were honest, less kind, less welcoming and less inclined to spoil you with meaningless gifts.

It took six months, six months of travelling of Aemond being distant and eventually ignoring you altogether before you reached Winterfell. And met Cregan stark.

And though you could tell he was a good man and that there was no way to deny he wasn’t handsome, he wasn’t Aemond.

You got along well, though every smile or laugh was met with Aemond’s glare. His disapproving stare. His harsh words and even harsher steps as he followed you both through the halls.

He hadn’t said a word to you, but made sure you new his anger.

Even as he watched you walk down the aisle in the godswood and take Cregan as your lord husband.

After that day you felt perpetually lost, as if you had lost the other part of you, that you were never whole.

Perhaps it was because Aemond had left without so much as a goodbye, or that now there was no chance of you and Aemond getting what you both wanted.

Two years passed, two years in the north as Cregan’s wife, a babe born and not a single word or letter from Aemond.

You felt stranded in the north, with no dragon nor any dragon rider offering you an escape. Any letters took weeks to arrive, any news arriving long after the fact.

You heard little from anyone frankly, that’s why it was such a surprise to see your nephew Jace once more.

“Jace?” you questioned, as you walked into the great hall. He sat beside Cregan, clearly having spent the night.

You were shocked, no one had told you of his arrival.

“Aunt” he greeted in turn, his voice kind as he greeted you.

“What are you doing here?” you said, as you approached where they sat.

He looked over to Cregan, shocked you didn’t know he was here. “Your father…Viserys is dead”

“oh” you said, not feeling any emotion in particular. He had never been a father too you, always distant, treating you more like a cousin child, than his own. “did he- was it peaceful?”

“I don’t know” he said, as you finally took your seat beside him, “we had left Kings Landing before-“

“Is that why your here? My fathers death?”

Jace looked over to Cregan an awkwardly, “Aegon usurped my mother, I have been sent to remind the north of their oath.”

Aegon being king wasn’t a surprise, your mother and grandsire had been plotting for years to crown him since he was born. If anything, you were shocked that Jace seemed surprised by the betrayal, as if the court hadn’t been treating Aegon as heir for years.

“And as I told the prince, the north remembers” Cregan said looking over to you, his tone serious. “we pledge our loyalty to the queen”

“and if war comes with you plunge your sword into my brothers back, husband?”

“if it comes it it, aye”

You looked down and remained quite through the remainder of Jace’s stay, keeping to yourself, as you always did.

The harsh realisation that your husband would so easily kill your brothers hurt, even if they were traitors and usurpers.

You had never felt whole since Aemond left and you knew a part of you chipped away the longer he was gone, the longer he punished you with his silence.

And then news came, Luke was dead at the hands of Aemond. And you felt apart of you break.

The realisation that Aemond would not survive this war without erasing the entirety of Rhaenrya’s line.

You felt more stuck than ever.

Stuck with a husband plotting a war were the allegiance was split.

You had married Cregan in hope of uniting the north to the greens. But of course the loyal house stark would never wavier form their oath, even if it meant a wife forced to watch as her kin was murdered.

You hated this war, and it had yet to start.

You had been left in charge of Winterfell in your husbands absence, and you felt even more lonely without him. The one person who you had felt some stability from.

Your dreams was filled with blood and death, fear of what was to come. And yet another dream chased you. Flashes of blue flames, ice eyes and cold scales. A song sung through your mind, it had no words or melody, it was as if it were a secret language only your dreams could understand.

A storm raged on, leaving you locked inside and a feeling a dread filling your bones.

You couldn’t escape the nagging feeling, the feeling like something was very wrong.

You could scarcely see outside the window, let alone leave the keep. The snow thick and relentless, and yet you could make out a figure ever so slightly.

A dragon.

Large and far away, your mind hoped it was Aemond, though he would be a fool to travel north, especially in this storm.

And yet it seemed to pale, not nearly as monstrous or large.

It called to you, your eyes following if, unable to tear themselves away from the dragon.

Had it not been the call of your name from your maid, Lyra, you were sure you would have chased after it, its song luring you to were ever its layer sat.

“my lady” she started, her demeanour nervous

“what is it?” you questioned, finally pulling your eyes away from the creature.

“you have a visitor”

“who-“ your words were cut off as your twin strolled in, his yes firm, a hand gripping his sword “Aemond”  you breathed, your hand gripping at your chest.

“sister” he greeted.

You sent a look to lyra, sending her running, though she seemed relived at the dismal.

“my husband is not here”

“good”

“he pledged for Rhaenrya”

His gaze hardened, a smile gracing his lips “you betray your own kin”

You scoffed “me betray? You are the one who has not spoken a word to me since the day i was married, no letter no word! Even Aegon wrote me and yet you my own twin, the very man i have loved and been with since the day we were born, betrays me without a word all because I am shipped of in a marriage you very well knew I did not want! If anyone has betrayed the other it is you”

His gaze fell, his smirk falling, “you choose him-“

“by the gods! I had no say”

His eyes dropped their firm, “no…mother said you had chosen him and rejected my bid” “your bid? You bid for my hand?” you scoffed once more, “do you think that if I knew I had a choice I would have come crying, begging for your help?”

He seemed you look at you, look at you for the first time in years, his yes boring into you in a way you did not realise you missed.

Aemond had always been selifish and cruel, a man who only believed his opinion to be the truth and yet with you he was patient and kind, and though you saw a glimpse of the man others did see, you knew he was still the Aemond you had long knew.

Though the fact remained, as it stood you were on opposing sides of this war, and with no dragon and your son the heir to house stark, you were powerless to change sides.

But as he looked at you, and as you heard to coo of your son as he sat in his crib your mind went back to the day your life changed and Aemond drifted apart.

You knew the day was coming, word had been circling around court, suitors from throughout the realm had come to bid for your hand.

Though you in truth you only wanted one man, your twin Aemond.

It wasn’t wrong for you to assume that you and he would marry, it was within the custom of your house, you had always been close and he had practically been courting you for years.

With gifts an-d days spent walking the gardens, with soft words and caresses.

Though he never made his intentions clear, you were sure he was of the same mind of you.

And yet days spent whining about the men hellbent on following you, with cheesy words of love and gifts you already had too may off. It was all impersonable and endlessly repetitive. And Aemond never uttered a word. Simply nodding his head in what you hoped was silent contempt.

and yet your mother had summoned you to her chambers, a sombre expression on her face.

“daughter” she greeted, a soft smile as she reached for your hand.

The feeling of dread encompassed you, your face pale and stricken as she ushered you to sit.

“an offer has been made, one your father could not refuse” she started, her hand caressing yours, “one with house stark…lord Cregan Stark has made a bid and your father has accepted.”

You swallowed, your head dropping.

“I know your heart bid for another…but this is the way of the realm, and lord Cregan is a good man, your- Rhaenrya’s son knows him well.” She spoke the last part hesitantly.

“when?”

“we leave in a moons turn”

You nodded your head, standing quickly you nodded your head as your turn to leave, the tears already threatening to fall from your eyes.

You had ran to Aemond’s rooms, his chambers adjacent to yours.

Your eyes were filled with tears, your face red and your breaths short.

He breathed your name, coming up to hold your face in his hands.

“I am to be married” you breathed through shallow breaths.

Aemond held his breath.

“mother…mother has said I shall marry…Lord Cregan Stark” you stuttered out, and Aemond back away from you, his hand dropping as if your face was fire.

“what?” he muttered harshly, “out of all your…suitors, him?”

“I had little say…I alw-“  you cut yourself of as you saw the look on Aemond’s face.

With you Aemond had always had patience, been kind where he was usually curel, his face never harsh or firm but now…now he seemed to hold the anger of the sun as he looked at you, as if he had been betrayed, as if he was the one being made to marry a man thousands of leagues away, a man you had never met.

“please Aemond” you begged, trying to move towards him once more.

You were unsure of what you were begging for.

Whether it was to help you get out of this betrothal or to marry him instead, but Aemond scoffed and sent you a glare that would send anyone else running.

“what do you want? Hmm?” he began, stalking over to you, “to help you out of it? Or what claim a dragon so that you might escape?” he said, his tone mocking.

“what is with you!” you spoke through tears, “why are you being so cruel?”

“cruel?” he scoffed once more, “you are the one being cruel!”

“how?! I had no choice!”

“you had every choice” he seethed, “and yet you continuously turn a blind eye to the right choice!”

“what choice? you think I had any choice in this?” you scoffed, “gods! Heleana had no say, even Rhaenyra had little say in her first husband and yet you think I got to choose?” tears were falling from your eyes but for an entirely different reason, you felt betrayed, the one person you knew or had thought you could trust with all your heart had betrayed you. Had made you lose all trust, and made you feel alone.

A feeling that had followed you for moons, even the following years that were to come. As he grew more and more distant, no more gifts or walks, days spent in each other’s company and now they were spent listening to your nephew trying to sell your future husband. Your mother and planning your wedding.

You felt like you had lost Aemond In his entirety and yet here he stood before you, claiming you a traitor.

“why are you here?” you breathed, trying to forget the words he had said.

“for you” he spoke, straightening his stance as you walked towards your sons crib.

“for me? What of Rickon? Hmm?” you said, bouncing your six month of son in your arms. “he is the heir to Winterfell and his father fights for your enemies, you expect me to leave with you? To abandon my home?”

“your home?” he huffed, “last we spoke, you hated it here.”

“last we spoke was two years ago, opinions change especially in years apart”

“so what? You will stay in here in the cold, damp, baren land that is the north?”

“in favour of what?” you questioned genuinely, leaving the north would gain you nothing, instead you would lose the comforts of a husband and your son his birthright.

“you know…I always assumed we would wed” Aemond began, a small gasp left your throat, “and so you will wed me, your son will be Aegon’s heir until you and I have a son of our own”

“what…I am already married-“

“to a man I shall kill myself”

“Aemond! Gods you are mad! You speak of a life this war will never offer us!” you shook your head, “I- I cannot leave here, not for a life you cannot guarantee, especially after years of neglect over something I could not control”

“so you are a traitor”

“I pledge to no one, I care not for the throne especially if the fight is between Aegon and Rhaenyra” you spoke “I have no means to fight in this war for either side, and I do not desire to…if that is what you want…for me to leave my home for no reason other than an empty promise for a life we will never live then I must tell you to leave”

“leave?” he said bewildered, unbelieving you would send him away so quickly.

“you can stay the night or until the storm clears up, but I will here no more of this war or of your fantasy you have suddenly conjured up” A fantasy you had long desired yourself, had craved for him to desire it to. And now you were offered it, it seemed unreachable now. A war in its way, a war started by him and only one ending could grant you this fantasy, an ending to messy and deadly.

“I will go now” he spoke harshly, sending you a single glance before he took his leave.

That night the storm raged harsher, and sleep evaded you.

The storm did not stop raging once and for the first time since Driftmark you feared for your brothers life.

You stared out your window once more, trying to find the familiar shape of Vaghar, and yet you saw nothing.

Your eyes closed as you hoped, prayed that he had manged to get out of the storm.

But instead of a prayer you heard the song, the singing of that dragon once more.

Opening your eyes, you instantly found its shape, its wings flying through the sky as if the storm was nothing, its song enticing you to follow it, to find were it sat.

Grabbing your cloak and your boats you were quick to sneak from the castle, with no one questioning the steps of their lady, even less when you made a hopeful glance to where you were told Vaghar had landed. Hoping Aemond had chosen to wait out the storm.

But the typical stubborn man had left, mostly likely gotten himself stranded on some cliff.

As you left the walls of Winterfell, your sight blinded by snow, you were guided by the dragons song, a song that grew louder and louder as you went deeper into the wolfs woods.

You had been hunting here on a few occasions, never alone and always at Cregan’s side.

The trees dwarfed the sky the further you went, and yet there was a clearing amongst the trees, leaving a trail of discarded leaves and twigs, snow parted by what could only be a tail.

The trail lead to a cave, encased with snow and yet here the song stopped and the familiar smell of dragon began.

You had not know of caves in these woods, then again you had long strayed from the trail others took, and perhaps the word of a dragon had made this corner of the woods scarce.

With hesitance you entered the cave, with no sword nor light, simply will.

The cave was empty, bar what seemed to be a cliff, leading below.

Had there not been the unrelenting scent of dragon you would have turned back and yet, you climbed down, down rugged rocks only to turn and be meet with an ice cold bolt shotting from the dragons mouth.

A roar filled the room, alongside ice cold blue flame.

The dragon you had only seen from a distance lay facing you, its stare made to intimidate.

You left out a breath at the sight of her.

She was so different yet similar to the dragons you had grown up seeing.

She tilted her head, assessing you, before she nudged you.

Whether it was playfully or an attempt to get you to leave you did not now.

And yet you continued to step forward.

“lykirī” You spoke softly, walking towards the dragon hand raised, “lykirī” your hand reached forward, touching the dragon’s snout softly. She was warm and yet freezing under your palm, so different from the hot scales you were used to under the touch of your siblings dragons.

“nyke ryptan aōha vāedar” you started, softly stroking her, “īles gevie…iksā gevie”

I heard your song… it was beautiful… you are beautiful.

A soft grumbled left the dragons lips.

“iksin ziry syt nyke? aōha vāedar?” you swore she nodded her head.

Was it for me? Your song?

“gōntan ao brōzagon syt nyke?” you whispered, moving down her snout and towards her back, the place a saddle usual sat.

did you call for me?

“eman dreamt hen ao, ryptan aōha vāedar syt jēdri. se yet mirre bisa jēda īlē paktot gō ñuha pungos”

i have dreamt of you, heard your song for years...and yet all this time you were right under my nose.

The dragon shook her head softly, turning to face you as if to urge you up upon her back.

You swallowed roughly as you climbed upon her wing and then her back. she was larger than your brothers dragon Sunfyer, you would even wager larger than dreamfyer, and yet she was younger, her eyes softer and scales thinner. Her fire, or ice, however was strong, perhaps even stronger than Caraxes.

You settled upon her back, holding onto her scales, and before you could utter a word, she took flight.

“daor” you muttered, “dohaerās” you spoke, your hands gripping tightly as you urged her to serve. “Paez”

No…serve…slow

The storm still raged, you were blinded as the snow pelted your eyes, and yet your dragon seemed unfazed.

She circled the woods in what seemed to be glee.

Showing of tricks that left you praying to the gods as you gripped onto her horns for dear life.

And then you heard a roar.

An old and ancient roar.

“jikagon ūndegon” you urged.

Go see

She flew through the sky at a rapid place before the sight of Vaghar became clear, she lay stranded on the lonely hills, covered in snow and Aemond lay beside her.

���elēnās” you commanded, urging our dragon to bank.

Jumping of her back you rushed towards Aemond, his body cold and shivering.

“Aemond…gods” you whispered, “I told you to stay the night!” you near screamed, trying to urge him awake, and yet he seemed unresponsive to your words.

“Vaghar jikagon, jurnegon syt shelter” you screamed, as you made moves to drag Aemond towards your dragon.

Vaghar go, search for shelter

The old dragon seemed to rumble at your words her gaze following you as you near threw Aemond body on top of the dragon, a dragon you decided very well needed a name.

You were scared to take flight once more, with nothing but your arms to hold onto the dragon and Aemond.

“gods” you muttered, your eyes blinded once more by snow. “sagon qucik se gīda” you commanded, pulling Aemond to your chest and below the winter coat you wore, your hands gripping your dragon, as you commanded her onwards.

Be quick and calm

The flight to Winterfell seemed short, though worry racked through you as Aemond’s breaths grew shorter.

You landed rather ungracefully in the godswood, a landing that seemed to awake the whole castle as you were greeted with the entirety of your staff, your maid, Lyra rushing towards you a blanket in hand.

“my lady” she muttered rushing towards you, only to gasp at the sight of Aemond as you struggle to carry him.

“Gunther, Torren” you shouted for your guards, to help you carry Aemond, “send for the maester my brother is in need of aid.

“my lady is that your dragon?” Lyra asked, nervously as your dragon seemed to send menacing glares to your staff.

“yes” you nodded, catching your breath from your seemingly heavy brother.

“what is its name?” she asked stepping behind your form nervously.

“Stormfyer” you decided, and she herself seemed to like it as she eagerly nudged you, pushing you back ever so slightly.

That night the maester cared for Aemond, his body slowly recovering.

Though whispered moved swiftly of your brothers presence, and his lack of dragon.

A week passed before Aemond woke.

His voice scratchy and body weak, his head confused. Even more so when he saw your face.

You stood with broth and bread in your hand, a soft nervous smile on your face as you faced him.

His eyes were angry, but his face seemed to relax ever so slightly at your face.

“am I a prisoner?” he asked, as you placed the tray on his lap.

“if you talk a single word of war then yes” you joked, though the words soured soon after they were spoken.

“how did you find me?”

You smiled at his words, “there is a dragon in the north, she sang to me and I answered her call and in doing so I found you, your body beside Vaghars…. I rescued you, near a week ago”

“a dragon?” he spoke “you have dragon now?”

You nodded, “Stormfyer, I named her…she is near the size of dreamfyer I believe, though closer in age to Vermax” you spoke with a smile.

“I am…happy for you sister”

“I won’t reconsider… before you say anything”

“I know…I realised as such as I lay here dreaming”

“dreaming…of what?”

“of you” he spoke instantly, his hand gripping yours, “I meant what is said, all I have ever wanted was you by my side, as my wife and my queen” “I do not wish to be queen”

“then we shall be farmer and wife…in Essos or I shall shave my head and take the name snow and be your faithful sworn sword here in the north”

“Cregan will kill you second he sees you”

“then we leave”

“what if my son?” you argued, “he is the heir to Winterfell, it is his birthright”

“as is Aegon’s as king” Aemond snapped.

“and yet a war rages for Rhaenyra as queen, a queen the north supports and you lie as the enemy within.”

“then will you kill me sister?”

“never” you whispered, gripping his hand tightly, “you are the other half of me, I found you dying on the hills for a reason, I have felt your pain and joy for years…I will not betray you” “you staying here does…it hurts me, makes me ache for you”

You took a deep breath, moving the tray of Aemond’s lap, and yourself towards him.

You took his face in your heads, your forehead lent against his.

“I ache for you…everyday of my life I have ached for you” you breathed “I waited, I waited for you to feel he same for you to tell me you wished to have me as your wife and yet that day never came until a week past…after I am married and made a mother” your eyes swelled with tears, “if the gods wished us together they would have made it easier for us Aemond…they never would have put us on opposing side of a war…or me with a husband i-“ you were cut off with Aemond’s lips on yours.

His mouth merged with yours, moving in tandem with the others, years of love and desire melting into one as his mouth kissed yours, his hands gripping your sides as he pulled you onto his lap.

Your hands reaching for his hair, tugging him closer to you.

Soft moans left your moth as his tongue danced with yours.

Your dress loosened by his wandering hands.

Your hips moving slowly against this, his length hardening against your thigh as you cunt became sickened with your wet heat.

“Aemond” you moaned breaking away from him. “I am married”

“and I do not care” he smoke, removing his shirt and they your dress. Leaving you both bare.

Your eyes were roaming and quick.

As if nervous to see another man naked, and yet Aemond had long been the only man you ever desired.

You should be filled with guilt, with the thought of your husband and yet, no guilt chased you as you removed the covers and revealed Aemond’s cock.

You swallowed at he sight of him.

You moved forward placing a quick kiss to his lips, hovering over his cock, before lunging down.

The feeling of your walls wrapping around his cock made you both moan, your breaths heavy as you adjusted to the size of him.

Your head reasted on his shoulder, his hands gripping your waists as you began to lift your self of his cock, only to push them down once more.

You set a slow pace as you rode him, moving your hips in slow circular motions.

Aemond placed soft kisses to your neck, urging you to look at him.

He moaned your name, his hands caressing your sides, before settling once more on your hips.

Gripping your waist, he began to move you up and down on his cock, his pace fast and full of pleasure.

Your peak came fast, your moans covered by your hands as you rode his cock.

Your walls clenching around his cock, causing Aemond’s own peak to wash over him, his seed filling you as you lay breathless above him.

“Aemond” you breathed, kissing his chest lightly as he held you to him.

“I have wanted to do that forever” he whispered, kissing your head.

You wanted to say so may things and yet you couldn’t.

You felt joy at having Aemond finally, at your emotions being laid bare before him.

And yet a sadness watched over you as if this was a goodbye.

And seeing as shouts were heard, the sound of hooves and a rapid knock upon the door, you realised it was.

He gripped your hand, “stay” he urged.

“it is my husband” you whispered, gathering your clothes in a rush., “he can never know…you must leave!”

“leave? How when our husband and his men circle the courtyard”

“i- i- don’t..” you mumbled in a panic as your redressed, “this never happened Aemond, you must bend plea for something…I don’t know say you pledge for Rhaenyra”

“he will never believe it…and why would I come here if I did”

The knocking sounded once more…look asleep and sickly… I will come back” your promised rushing out the doors and to greet your husband.

“Husband” you greeted, a breathless smile on your face, “you are back?”

“only for a time, I’m afraid” he said, sad smile on his face as he gave you a kiss in greeting.

He turned serious as he faced you, his voice a whisper as he spoke, “your brother…Aemond” he began, “he is here?”

You swallowed, “yes…but please I beg don’t kill him” you said tears filling your eyes, “he can be our prisoner…I sent his dragon away he has no means of leaving” you begged.

He looked at you hesitantly, before urging you to talk inside.

“he is a kin slayer” he spoke outright, “he should be killed…executed”

“I know…but he is a valuable prisoner.” He looked at you the, with the same look he gave you the first few months of your marriage. When you felt alone and needed Aemond like you need air to breath.

“do you still love him?” he spoke after a moment, “and do not deny that you ever did…I know of the whispers and I know you saved his life days ago”

“you are my husband…the father of my son…I have cared for you and even started to love you-“

“but do you love him?”

You stared at him your eyes begging for what, you did not know “what does it matter” you sighed in mock defeat.

Cregan kissed his teeth, “queen Rhaenyra has taken Kingslanding, Aegon is missing, and Aemond now a hostage of the north and you...” he stopped himself unsure of what to make of you, “you are my wife and the lady of the north, a kingdom pledged to the queen”

“so what? Am I too a prisoner until you can test my loyalty?”

“do I need to test your loyalty?”

You had no reply as you stormed out of his solar, and to your own rooms.

You realised you had no choice in what was to come, Aemond would die and no prayers would save him from what his fate was set to be.

Sighing you faced the room you had made a home, now it seemed empty.

The crib lay empty, your son in the nursery.

Your bed made and fire well kept.

Your thing scattered, with clothes left tidy in their dresser, blanket slung over chairs, books left stacked.  

You sighed, your head falling in your hands as you began to pace your room.

Then the realisation hit, the need to flea and run

Grabbing a bag you packed everything you could, clothes and books, hairbrushes and toys for your son.

A cloak slung over your shoulder, the bag well hidden as you made way to the nursery.

Smiling as you greeted him, his smiles lighting the room as you took him into your arms and made way to where Aemond was kept.

He lay in his bed, the food you had brought now eaten, a book lay in his hand.

“Aemond” you breathed, closing the door behind you. “we must leave” you said as you chucked some of the clothes Cregan kept in your chamber towards him.

Fleeing proved easier than you had thought. With feasts and revelry at your husbands return it was easy to sneak through the keep and towards the godswood.

Vhagar had made her way there only days ago, and though Aemond was still weak from the cold, he seemed to lighten up at the sight of her.

“where are we going?” he breathed as you tossed Aemond the bag you had packed.

“to lys” you began, “we cannot stay in Westeros and with the triarchy as your ally I am sure we would be safer there than here.”

After that day no one knows what happened to the Targaryen twins, many assumed Aemond had kidnapped you in act of revenge for your supposed loyalty to Rhaenrya and your betrayal against him. When in truth the escape had been your plan, and whilst you had lived in lys, myr and Tyrosh, moving from place to place for the first five years in fear of assassins, you later found a home where you thrive away from the war Aemond had began.

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to be added to taglist

[brokenmenswhore]

tables & chairs | aemond targaryen

request from dms! thank you for this one because PHEW

pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!reader (sister!reader)

summary: there’s a chair… and a table… and you get it

warnings: s2 spoilers!!, smut (MDNI 18+), slight voyeurism

────── ☾ ──────

While everyone assumed an angry Aemond should be isolated, lest he lash out at anyone, you knew better.

You had always looked up to him as a younger sister would an older brother, and as such, you knew him well enough to know when he needed space, and better yet, when he needed comfort. At least, you usually did.

Unfortunately, you found yourself confused when your brother stomped past you toward the council room. You figured that perhaps a council member committed some form of transgression, but it was much too late in the day for the usual meetings called by the Prince Regent, and you could spot at least two of the council members speaking with one another on the steps.

You followed behind Aemond, entering the council room slowly to find him seated alone, evidently frustrated and annoyed by something. He sat tall on the chair at the head of the table, only moving his head to turn toward you as you entered the room.

“Does something trouble you, brother?” you asked.

“It need not concern you,” Aemond responded, averting his gaze from you.

You sighed, “Talk to me, Aemond.”

“Truly, it is of no concern.”

You took a deep breath; sometimes it was difficult to get Aemond to break his walls down and allow your comfort in. You approached him, using your arms behind your back to hoist yourself up onto the table, shifting over slightly so that you were seated on the table directly in front of him. You made yourself unavoidable.

You reached out a hand and lifted his chin until his eye met your own. “Talk to me, Aemond.”

He took a deep breath. “The false queen has found more dragon riders.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion; that was the last thing you expected him to say. “That- that is impossible,” you replied.

“Evidently it is not,” Aemond said, “I thought the same, but I was behind Silverwing only moments ago. She had a rider, and her mate was awakened as well.”

“I-“ you were not sure what to say, or how to comfort him, “I do not understand how such a thing is possible.“

Aemond leaned forward and suddenly slammed a hand on the table directly next to your thigh. “She is raising an army. I must do the same,” he said, the volume of his voice slightly elevated, his frustration evident.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked.

Aemond gave you a small smile, despite his current temperament. He began to toy with the hem of your dress. “I can think of a few things.”

“I meant something genuinely helpful, Aemond.”

Aemond looked up at you, his fingers never leaving the fabric of your dress, as he said, “I’m simply pleased to have you here, and so close to me, no less.”

“Aemond-“ your voice trailed off, losing itself as he began to slowly push your dress higher and higher up the tops of your thighs.

“Yes?”

“This is the small council room.”

“I am aware,” he responded.

Aemond tapped two fingers against the sides of your thighs, prompting you to lift your hips briefly so he could move the fabric of your dress from underneath you to behind you. The hard wood of the table was rough on your bare skin.

“So pretty,” Aemond whispered, kissing up one of your thighs, leaning forward more and more in his chair as his hands gripped your legs to keep them open.

“Aem-“

Before you could even get the full word out, Aemond moved your small clothes to the side and licked a strip from your hole all the way to your clit, causing a gasp to leave your lips at the sudden feeling.

He pulled away briefly. “Something to say, sweet sister?”

Your chest rapidly rose and fell in anticipation. “I came in here with intent to make you feel better, you know.”

“This makes me feel better than you could possibly know,” Aemond replied, diving back in as he sucked on your bud. You fell backwards, propping yourself up on your elbows as he grabbed your waist to pull you to the edge of the table and therefore even closer to him.

You whined, keeping quietness in mind, as Aemond gave small kitten licks to your pearl, causing your breathing to become erratic. The feeling of his mouth on you was heavenly, and the potential of getting caught only added to your arousal.

Aemond moved his tongue to your hole, gazing up at you as he began to taste within you, curling his tongue as much as he could as his grasp on your hips tightened to keep you in place, the pressure destined to leave marks.

His nose was buried in your clit, almost involuntarily at the mercy of his positioning, further stimulating you as it rubbed against your clit with every movement of his head.

You threw your head back, one of your hands moving to hold onto the back of his hair. You pulled lightly, giving him direction on how to move his head. He groaned in response, the vibration sending a shiver up your spine. His eye never left your face as he watched exactly what he was doing to you.

Aemond hit a particularly sweet spot within you and your arms grew weak, your back falling onto the wooden table with a small thud. You whimpered at the pain, but it only egged Aemond on more as he intentionally nodded his head up and down as his tongue fucked you, causing his nose to give your bud even more stimulation.

Your back arched off of the table, your hand still on Aemond’s head, fingers tangled in his hair. Holding his hair acted as an anchor for you to begin grinding your hips upward against his face, and he loosened his grip on your hips to allow for your movements.

Right when he felt you begin to clench around his tongue, he pulled away. You caught your breathing for a moment before shifting to look at him, his face still between your legs.

“Why’d you stop?” you breathed.

“Just giving you a break,” he shrugged, nonchalant, “it’s no fun if you come already.”

You pouted as your arousal calmed down and Aemond returned his mouth to your clit, flicking it with his tongue.

He tapped two fingers against your hip to catch your attention, so you looked down at him. He pulled away from you for a moment and held out two fingers.

You pulled his wrist toward you and put his fingers into your mouth, making a show of sucking on the digits before pulling them out of your mouth with a pop.

He quietly growled at the sight, retracting his hand away from your mouth and inserting his now-wet pointer and middle fingers into your hole, causing a loud whine to leave your lips.

He pushed his fingers in and out of you as he sucked your clit, watching you the best he could as you writhed beneath him. He draped his unoccupied arm across your stomach, holding you down as he moved his fingers faster and faster.

“Aem- Aem- fuck-“ you breathed out.

He only pulled away from you long enough to speak the words: “Say my name and I’ll let you come.”

You whimpered under his touch as he moved his tongue and fingers at a ruthless pace, working overtime to pull your orgasm.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging to keep his head where you needed it most as you squealed, “Ae- Aemond!”

Your high crashed over you, Aemond not letting up until he could no longer feel your spongy walls squeezing his fingers.

He gave a few gentle kisses to your hips, leaning backward and relaxing into his chair as you caught your breath, covering yourself with your dress and sitting back upward.

No words were exchanged between you two as you hopped off the table, standing dangerously close to Aemond as you locked eyes with him, your bodies nearly touching as you sank to your knees, ducking your head so you were fully underneath the table.

Aemond only watched, maintaining his relaxed position as you untied his breeches and pulled them, along with his small clothes, down just enough to free his cock.

You gazed up at him as you licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, giving special attention to the very top before sinking your head down on the length. He was too big for you to keep him entirely in your mouth, but you were able to control the reflexes in your throat for a moment so that you could take all of him briefly, the head of his cock poking the back of your throat as your nose hit his pelvis.

You pulled back to just the tip, sinking back down to a comfortable length and setting a pace you could manage. Every so often, you stilled your head and swirled your tongue around the head of Aemond’s cock, and you could hear his breathing become heavier as you did so.

You bobbed your head at a steady pace and Aemond continued to watch you, groans leaving his lips each time you looked up at him, tears forming in your eyes from his size.

You heard the door to the council room swing open, and you instinctively tried to pull back, but Aemond grabbed the back of your head and kept you on him, forcefully inching the chair closer to the table so that you were fully covered by the wooden furniture above you. You shifted backwards on your knees to accommodate his actions. Aemond bunched up your hair, quickly moving you up and down once to prompt you to continue before removing his hand and placing both of his elbows on the table in front of him.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Alicent spoke, standing on the other end of the table with one hand resting on the back of the chair opposite Aemond.

Aemond cleared his throat. “What for, mother? I’m rather busy.”

“You do not look much busy to me,” Alicent patronized.

At that moment, you moved your hand to his cock, lightly grasping the base and helping yourself as you continued to move your head up and down, allowing for stimulation over his entire cock. He shifted in his seat at the feeling, fighting with all his might to maintain his composure.

“What do you want?” he asked, trying so hard to sound normal that he sounded even more strained.

“Whispers say you chased another dragon toward Dragonstone this morn,” Alicent said.

You ran your tongue along the slit at the top of his cock, causing his entire body to jolt. To cover up the reaction, Aemond slammed his hands on the table. “Silverwing has a rider.”

“Whispers also say you burned down an ent-“

“Mother,” he cut her off, and you took his slight pause as an opportunity to move your hand up and down even faster, and you could feel his cock twitch in your mouth, “I wish to be alone.”

Alicent sighed and stepped closer to him, and you could feel his body tense up beneath you.

“I truly hope you will one day allow yourself to forget this grudge you hold,” she spoke.

Aemond simply gave her a small nod, his self control slipping further and further away from him.

Alicent took a deep breath. “Have you seen your sister anywhere?”

You disconnected your mouth from his cock and instead ever so gently began to suck on his balls, your hand stroking his cock at a torturously slow pace.

Aemond’s breathing was becoming erratic as he cleared his throat to cover up a groan, “No, I have not.”

“Shame,” Alicent responded, “if you see her, inform her I need to speak with her, will you?”

Aemond was fighting with every cell of his being to remain stagnant as you began to suck his cock again, bobbing your head and moving your hand significantly faster. “I will,” was all he could get out.

Alicent gave him a nod, still gazing at him with confusion for his strange attitude, but she left the room regardless.

When the doors slammed shut, Aemond leaned back again and looked down at you. You met his gaze, the sight of you causing his cock to twitch and flex in your mouth, signaling he was near his climax.

“Fuck you,” Aemond quipped lightheartedly.

He gently pushed at the bottom of your jaw, prompting you to cease your actions. He held underneath your arms and began to pull you upward, his hands trailing further and further down your body as you stood, finally landing on your hips. He pulled you close to him, sitting tall as you moved to straddle him on the much-too-large chair.

“Hi,” you said.

Aemond smiled. “Hi.”

He stretched his neck up toward you and kissed you, starting off gentle before intensifying the kiss by tightening his grip on your hips, moving them back and forth to grind against his cock.

You moaned into the kiss, reaching down to move your dress out of the way and ensure there were no obstructions as Aemond slowly rocked his hips to allow for even more friction.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, anchoring yourself to his body.

His lips moved down your jawline to your throat, sucking a sweet spot just below your ear and eliciting a whine from your lips.

“Need you,” you sighed.

“Thought you came in here for my benefit?” Aemond teased, reaching down to move your small clothes to the side again and line his cock up with your entrance.

“At least when you’re under the table, there’s an equal chance we may not get caught,” he started, slowly gesturing your hips down onto his length, “but if anyone saw us now, I doubt they would question such a sight.”

“Aemond-“

You lost yourself in your pleasure, setting a steady pace, riding him as he watched you in awe, your hands bracing yourself on the chair behind his head.

“I think you like the idea of getting caught,” he teased.

You stuttered out, “and I think you q-uite like being r-regent, Your Grace.”

You put special emphasis and attention on the final two words, knowing it would send Aemond into a frenzy, and you were correct.

Aemond was holding your hips so tightly you were certain they would bruise as he began to fuck into you ruthlessly, watching your face contort in a mixture of pain and pleasure as his cock nearly split you open.

You were still moving up and down on top of him, but your rhythm was becoming less and less stable as Aemond moved faster and faster. His arms wrapped around you to hold you down and in place.

“Aemond, fuck,” you moaned, your spongy walls squeezing him in anticipation.

“Try again,” he demanded, referencing your words.

“Y-Your Grace,” you whimpered, the pressure becoming too much.

“Good girl,” he cooed, and his words sent you over the edge, your climax washing over you as you squeezed his cock in intense pleasure.

His thrusts didn’t stop or lessen in intensity at all. He was still chasing his own high, the feeling of yours only bringing him closer.

You were overstimulated from now two orgasms, nearly crying at Aemond’s final few sharp thrusts that allowed him to spill his seed inside of you, no urgency to pull out whatsoever.

Aemond left his arms wrapped around you as he caught his breath, and you did the same.

“I forgot what was plaguing my mind when you first came in here,” Aemond stated.

“Good,” you giggled, “that was the point.”

────── ☾ ──────

tags: @ellijg

[spacerockfloater]

Alicent and Criston have every right to be together.

I’ve read a lot of posts regarding their non-existent hypocrisy and I’d like to clear some things up.

First and foremost, stop using Alicent’s “Where is duty, where is sacrifice?” line against her or Nyra’s outrageous “Exhausting, wasn’t it?” speech because you think you’re eating when you’re, in fact, starving. Alicent has done her duty and sacrificed herself. It’s the only thing she’s been doing for the past 20 years. She gave the man she was forced to marry four children and she took care of him despite all the shit he put her through. She has lived all her life based on her principles and now her husband is gone. She mourned him, she buried him, it’s been more than 10 days since his death (confirmed that E1 S2 takes place 10 days after Lucerys’ death) and she is finally fucking free. She deserves a sliver of comfort. Alicent is the only one in this series that’s been faithful and dutiful to a T, yet look where that got her. If someone has the right to break the law a little bit, it’s definitely her.

That being said, I don’t know when it was decided that Alicent is a pious saint that can do no wrong, but I need to remind y’all that following a religion does not magically prevent you from sinning. Is she committing fornication? Obviously. However, you are all under this impression that this is hypocritical on her behalf because she berated Rhaenyra for it when they were younger, without considering that her anger was justified for a myriad of other reasons, such as (but not limited to): 1) the fact that Rhaenyra’s freedom to marry whomever she pleased was a privilege granted to her thanks to Alicent’s efforts, who supported her even if Rhaenyra hated her, yet her friend casually threw that away, 2) the fact that Rhaenyra lied to her by swearing on her morher’s grave and never even mentioned Criston, 3) the fact that Rhaenyra had the guts to call her “sister” while lying to her face, 4) the fact that her lies resulted in Otto getting fired since Rhaenyra misled Alicent so that she speaks to Viserys in favour of her friend and betraying her own father by siding against him (a decision she wouldn’t have made if she knew the truth), leaving her completely alone and friendless at court, even if he was right all along and finally 5) the fact that Rhaenyra is the most sought after bachelorette in the whole world and by having sex she undermines herself (Rhaenyra knows this well, hence why she denies these accusations) and literally endangers herself, because had she been married to any other man but Laenor and had this man found out his wife and future queen is not a virgin, imagine the fucking horrors she could have been subjected to. Like, I hate to break it to you, but a 40-year-old widow, who’s had four kids and has completed her duty to the point where she is actually no longer needed and could leave the palace to go live the rest of her life in peace somewhere else and no one would notice her absence (literally though, she has birthed heirs, her husband is dead, her son is a grown adult king, her job is done there), having sex, is not the same as an 18-year-old princess and future heir in her prime, whose purity is linked to her worth, getting caught drunk in a brothel, hooking up with her uncle and losing her virginity to her guard, all in one night. Viserys himself was outraged. There’s lows and then there’s lows, y’all.

By the way, the crazy assumptions that Alicent has been cheating on Viserys with Criston for a while now need to stop. When Olivia Cooke said that they had filmed a messy sex scene with Fabien Frankel in a recent interview, she never said this was for S1 of HOTD. I don’t know where y’all got that from, but even if it was true, that scene has been scrapped so it is not canon. And don’t make me laugh about Daeron, a dragon rider who canonically has Valyrian features, potentially having brown hair. You’re all so blinded by your hatred for Alicent that you want her to be a lying hypocrite in order to make yourselves feel better about Rhaenyra’s mishaps, that you don’t get that the whole point of her and Criston getting physical is that she is a tortured woman who is finally able to break free, not that she has been a hypocrite all along. You’re heavily misunderstanding her arc.

Finally, when it comes to my good man Criston, y’all have lost it completely. No, Alicent is not raping him, unless he tells her to stop and she closes the door behind her like Rhaenyra did that is. No, Criston did not lie about how important his honour is to him. There’s a whole article on how Clare Kilner, the director of E4 S1, decided that Cole removing his armour slowly was necessary because it symbolises his inner conflict and uncertainty over breaking his vow: should he soil his cloak for the sake of the woman he loves? And he does soil it, because he thinks she loves him back. But that honourable man dies the day Rhaenyra tells him that he’ll never be anything more than a side piece to her. This man stops giving a flying fuck about his honour, oath, position and life. He is trying to kill himself. And you know what stops him? Alicent. Alicent is the only thing between him and death, the only person to show him kindness and understanding, to pull him up from the lowest point in his life. I don’t think you heard Alicent in E7 S1: “No, you’re sworn to me!”. Y’all. His life is hers. He doesn’t care about Rhaenyra, his job, Viserys, anyone else at this point. Only Alicent exists in his mind, Fabien himself has said time and time again that his loyalty to her is unwavering. He only exists for Alicent’s sake. He’s who you wish Daemon was. Crying that “Criston is a bad knight and a liar because he broke his chastity oath yet again!” is so pointless because that knight has been dead since Rhaenyra’s marriage to Laenor. What does an oath mean when you find out the people you swore it to have betrayed you? Why should he keep his promise to the people who abused him?

[ophelieverse]

Hii there Lia,i’m a little embarrassed because i’ve been following you since the beginning and i loved all of your posts,this time i wanted to be brave and ask for a request.I’m a Daemon girly,so can I request an imagine where he and reader kinda have a thing going on?Like it’s not official but they do😏😏things?Thank you for your service and your works,luv u💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

✦ ⟢balance

Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

—Summary:reader is a dragonseed,the daughter of bastard child of one of the Targaryens,when the Rogue Prince went to search for dragon riders to fight in the war he sets his eyes on her for more than one purpose.

—Warnings:poor smut writing,reader will have the valyrian silver hair,kinda of incest,Daemon cheats on Rhae with reader(i apologize my Queen i love you)age gap(reader is legal)and Daemon being himself as always.

•—thank you so much for requesting and let me know what you think🫶🏻🩷

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If as a child they had told her that balance would be one of the basic requirements to ride a dragon,Y/n would never have believed it.

Because after all,even though she could have guessed it with the strength of the intellect,she was just a child who loved to dream and saw soldiers as heroes who had become such thanks to the strength of training.However,the truth was in the middle:it took talent and strength to become a good soldier,then a good dose of willpower and finally balance.

Y/n had lived her whole life on the island of Dragonstone and she was pretty sure that she was also going to die of old age,maybe in her warm bed or with her feet deep in the sand,in the place that she had always called home.

Her father was a fisherman from Essos,Volantis to be exact that loved to take her on his boat and tell her stories about his home in the other continent.A simple man,an insignificant part of sand in the sea.Nothing special.Her mother however,was definitely something more special and it could be seen in her wild silver hair that danced in the morning breeze.

The white tangle of mess that crowned her head was the only thing that Y/n had inherited from her mother.The stained and not pure Valyrian blood that circled in her veins,the proof that the fairy tales about dragons,princesses and castles that her mother used to whisper to her at night before putting her to sleep,were part of them.Her mother was a bastard child,daughter of the princess Gael Targaryen.

And Y/n was her granddaughter,her mother made sure that she remembered that before her death,that she was also the blood of the old Valyria and that the dragons that she had saw on the island were hers by birth right.That she shouldn’t be settling down for an ordinary life but that she could be so much more.A dragon rider.

Balance.

And she would have never believe it as a child that that word would be one of the keys to her entire future:of choices made on the spot that could aim for the balance of the situation in just a few seconds.

But also of balance merely on the physical side: she remembers how long it took to find the balance necessary to stand straight on Vermithor,the bronze fury who seemed to have taken a liking in her choosing Y/n as his new rider. When from the bottom of her eight years and with a few teeth missing it seemed so easy to her for the Targaryen to fly up there.

She had spent years of her life,running up and down the docks,nose up in the air,eyes never leaving the sky and the beautiful creatures flying back on the hills of Dragonstone.Never in her life Y/n thought that one day she would have been up there with them,riding King Jaehaerys dragon for the coming war.

She remembers it as if it were yesterday:the heavy wood on her shoulders, the suspenders pulling on her dress,the smell of sweat and fish -by who stood still under the sun,like her,to look at the Rogue Prince,Daemon Targaryen walking through the dirty streets.She remembers the gravel under his feet,the clean smell of his clothes,the way his purple eyes seemed to shine under the light and the way they were studying her whole body from the top of her head to her bare feet.

Y/n could also remember the way she felt her skin catch of fire,they way her father trembled next to her without saying a word,as the prince took a strand of her hair between his fingers.Carefully,as if he was counting every single hair,he brought them to his nose to give them a sniff.

«Yes.»his voice was low,it made her shiver,his eyes never leaving hers«You smell like a dragon.»it sounded like he was disgusted but on his face there was no trace of it.

It’s been months since then,but Daemon hadn't aged much from that day,or at least,she remembered him exactly with that aspect.The long pale hair styled to perfection,the nails well-groomed,the voice deep.Clean clothes.The blade of his sword shiny and sharp.Purple eyes with pure fire behind them.White skin and beard shaved to perfection.

He is sitting in front of Y/n with his legs apart at the foot of the bed as he finishes reading a report.The war was closer each day and they needed to be ready.Y/n slipped into his room like every night.

Daemon was married to Queen Rhaenyra,but he didn’t spend much time with her.He had a war to prepare and to win.He was the one that suggested to find more dragon riders,the one that went searching for them and the one that trained them.All of them,four to be exact,were simple people before a dragon had claimed them.

Y/n was chosen by Vermithor,a massive creature with more teeth than anything else,whose roar shook the very foundations of Dragonstone.

«The best for the best.»Daemon had commented,holding her hand as he helped her getting down.

«I’m sure he is.»Y/n had muttered once she was steady on her feet,on the solid ground«But i don’t know if i will be able to be of any help.He will be better without me on him.»she said,placing a insecure hand on the dragon head.

The Rogue Prince observed the way the creature nuzzled against her touch«You have blood of the dragon in you.He knows it,you know it.You exist and there are no more excuses,you were born to do this.»his voice was more gentle this time.

He hadn’t been this caring and careful with Ser Hugh or Addam,keeping his face stoic and his eyes cold while he was telling them what to do with their dragons.But the war was closer each day and the last thing he needed was a scared little girl that didn’t knew how to ride a dragon.

Y/n was young,naive,soft and pure.Everything that he wasn’t,everything that he saw in his niece when he was just a child,everything he took from him previous wife,that he had lost in the daughter he didn’t met and in the one that he ignores.Everything that he craved and wanted,that was pulling him to her like a moth to a flame.

In the beginning he thought it was because of that.Y/n was much younger that he was,she didn’t had any manners,he would think of her as a ignorant and savage girl that didn’t knew how to read or write,which silverware to use at the dinner table,how dress properly or how to take care of her beautiful moon hair.

So he took care of her.He thought her how to read and write,how to sit at a table,how to hold a sword .Once her face was clean from the dirt and her skin smelled of roses and vanilla,dressed in one of Rhaena pastel pink dresses,he saw in her the purity and familiarity he had lost in those years.The innocence that he took from the women in his life without asking,the perfect immaculate skin that he didn’t stained yet,the hair,just like his,that he didn’t pulled,the beautiful heart shaped lips he didn’t tasted.

It was like looking at a ghost from his past,as she was in front of him so unsure and with the desire to please in every possible way,to make him proud,to have him pay attention to her,to just become his favorite.

«The key is in the balance.»he had explained to her,his big hand covering her lower back as he walked her back to the castle.

«Balance?»Y/n asked confused with a little voice.

Daemon nodded«Once you will find your balance and be steady on your own feet,everything will be easier.»he said.

Balance.

Y/n marks it in her mind,every letter as a stepping step.It's what she thinks she's found for the first time in her life:Daemon gives her a sense of calmness,peace after the battle,even after the biggest losses,even if he seems more broken,more broken after every defeat or every time that he has a fight with Rhaenyra.

But his presence is still reassuring.It's like a hot tea when you have a sore throat.Like honey in milk.Reassuring,comforting.Somehow.

Daemon was the first person that had spent so much time to take care of her and Y/n knew it was wrong.It wasn’t proper the way he would sit next the bathtub while she was washing,in the way he would brush her hair every night,kiss her forehead and cradle her head on his chest before falling asleep.It wasn’t proper when he was married,to the Queen no less,it was treason and it mean death penalty.But that didn’t stop them.

He had a perfect balance between Y/n,the young and virgin girl,the pure maiden,the new thing in his life and Rhaenyra,the old mad Queen,the one thing he already had possessed and had nothing else to offer him.

Daemon is all Y/n knows about life.He made sure to teach her that.It is the balance of the spirit and the balance of the body.It's the beauty of his armor and in the way he stands proudly on Caraxes,the way he spend his time to clean Dark Sister.The shirt just opened and messy hair on his head.

He is tired.He is already half undressed.The cloak hung him on the chair.

Y/n,on the other hand,is not as balanced as he is,she had tried for him but she had failed:she still feels the adrenaline running through her blood, running through her veins and singing her soul.She knows what she wants to put out the fire,to turn off the brain,to regain balance.

And she waits with all her might just like Daemon with patience.

Balance.First duty then pleasure.He had talked with Rhaenyra about the battle plans and then he went to call for Y/n to spend the night with her.

Y/n is learning to be patience,so she observes him:she looks at his long silver hair tickling down his neck,the first buttons of his shirt open and his lips reading.His purple eyes are hidden behind the paper in his hand:he has a curved back and his arms resting on his thighs.

Y/n can't help but think about how much he likes Daemon,even with sweaty hair,especially like that. So human,so true.In that little corner that is created between them,in the late evening,in that room.

It seems to her that everything else does not exist,that the world is not that terrible place dominated by fire and blood,that human beings are free,that she can love Daemon and that Daemon can love her.

And so she wait impatiently on the bed with her bare feet rubbing placidly on the sheets«Do you still have a lot of those?»she whispers not to be heard outside the room and perhaps not to be heard even by Daemon himself,because she knows how this war is important and how easy he is to piss off.

«Yes.»Daemon answer was short and he didn’t moved a inch from his previous position.

Y/n didn’t responded.She barely snorts and drops her head on the pillow.Her mental balance is quickly faltering.After that day all she wants is Daemon,she wants to forget,she wants sex and to hold him.

She wants to tell him all those things that can only be said in bed.Where she could pretend to be princess,the only woman in his life,the only one that he has ever touched and wanted like this.

«I'm almost done.»Daemon then adds without saying anything else.

But Y/n smiles.She knows that message.Daemon does this when he realizes that he has been too rude,too unpleasant or cold especially after a battle.

«Alright.»Y/n lifts her back from the mattress and leans with her forehead against his.

It's hot.She breathes his perfume and goes straight into her veins and it's like wood on the fire:she can't do it and grabs him by the jaw and makes his head turn to the side,she kisses him with her tongue,puts it in his mouth as much as she can and then bites his lip.The breath hiss against her cheek because there is not enough room for the air to pass through.

Y/n hears him moaning with annoyance but he doesn't move.And the balance is lost in that fire of souls and bodies that is being consumed.

He puts a hand in her hair and kisses her again.He wants it,he wants it more than anything,more than revenge,more than blood.Daemon indulges her because after all he needs it too,he needed the taste of skin,the smell of her body,that balance was broken,broken like them.

Then he turns around and puts a hand around her neck and pushes her forcefully against the mattress.That's enough to start to make her feel the familiar warmth between her legs.

Daemon notices it right away.He knows she likes it,he knows it excites her.He blocks the air in her throat and sticks his index finger in her mouth.

«Do you want me to fuck you,little girl?»his voice is far more gentle than the one he use to commands armies,but still it made her shiver«Is that what you want?»he could still sound so authoritative.

«Yes.»Y/n mutters with his finger in her mouth and the air that lacks in her lungs.

«I told you that I’m almost done.»he reminded her,referring to all the papers that were now on the cold floor.

Y/m mumbles something similar to a «I’m sorry.»her eyes are shiny.She’s red in the face and looks so desperate.

Daemon loosens his grip«Never mind,you made me want it too.»he said.

He kisses her without taking his hand off her neck,he kisses her vigorously,his tongue that caresses hers and in that moment she knows that Daemon has also lost control,the balance.

Y/n stretches her hand on his dressed erection and squeezes it,feels it hard,feels it warm and tense and this makes her arch her hips while they still kiss.

He once told her that dragons prefer heat and right now she feels like she's in a hot bath:her body is on fire.Daemon is able to do that to her,she doesn't understand it,she doesn't control it.She can't.

Y/n bites his lip and slowly unbuttons his shirt, discovers his chest like the first time and finds it – like every time – beautiful.

Even after a battle he always looks so clean,in this he reminds her of her mother.But Daemon more, he’s cleaner,more beautiful,more like fire and balance at the same time.He’s is the greatest contradiction of her life;yet,her greatest certainty.

Daemon hikes the material of her nightgown up her soft legs,keeping them open with his beautiful and muscular thighs.Trapping her in his spider web of pleasure and warmth.

Before Daemon,Y/n had never been interested in sex,or men.To anything that wasn't living another day on the island.Then he came looking for her,first as a soldier then as a man.

And he killed and at the same time gave birth to a part of her.By now her life was divided into before and after of Daemon.

He let the nightgown slide over her rib cage,his fingers feels like fire as they trace a path on her pure skin leaving goosebumps all over it.Her breast,her perky little nipples,the way her chest rise and fall so fast was enough to drive him crazy.He takes the nightgown off and leaves it at the foot of the bed with the grace that distinguishes him.

He leaves her neck flushed just to place a messy kiss on her puffy and rosy lips«It's really too easy to get you excited,little girl.» he murmurs,perhaps more to himself than to her.

However,Y/n is not embarrassed because she sees him in the same state:then with a tacit look she asks him for permission to undress him and finishes untiening his shirt, in a hurry as only she can do,then she moves on to his belt and pants.

He feels her skin on fire when his naked body matches with her own,when his erection and her wet flower meet and dance like their tongues.There is something poetic in that dirty dance,because everyone knows they shouldn't do it,but it's the only thing that makes it stable in that life devoid of any meaning,devoid of balance and certainties.

Daemon and his body,Daemon and his perfume,Daemon and his mouthpiece.Daemon and his tongue digging into her mouth as if to want to suck even the last particle of oxygen into her lungs.Daemon and that rude and delicate way of doing things at the same time that sends him into ecstasy when he fights and fucks her.

He takes his time preparing her,caressing and tasting the sweet wet flower in between her legs.The purest ambrosia gifted by the gods,the most delicious sounds of pleasure.She feels his hot erection pressing against her little entrance,ready to ravish her.

Y/n tries to relax just like he taught her but her heart is stally and suddenly she feels like she is in a battle:she clings to Daemon hair,loses her balance on her elbows and leaves herself totally to him.

Daemon enters her with a blow drier than his hip,he mutters something in her mouth,as he bites her lips red as blood and she scratches his back.There is no need for words:he begins to push,and she feels her flesh give way,widen for him and make room for him,squeeze him in that welcoming way that vaguely reminds Daemon of home.

He pushes and Y/n tries to breathe as best as he can,she looks for oxygen that is not there,touches him on his back and spreads her legs more:she wants it more,more,more.She doesn't even have the strength to call his name for how strong the thrusts are and he touches that point so sweet and secret inside of her that makes her tremble.The one she,sometimes,looked for on her own but never found.Daemon knows how to touch it,he knows how to loosen her every uncovered nerve.

He knows how to make her lose her balance and then find her in that bath of sweat and moods,saliva and scratches.

The bed squeaches and no one cares,not even that anyone can hear them at that moment because,when they are together there is nothing else.The sheets are a disaster under their bodies, they are the perfect synthesis of what is going on in that bed.

Y/n welcomes the thrusts of Daemon,welcomes the moans with her mouth,squeezes him between his thighs and does not let him go but indulges him in that fluid and dancing movement.

The hands that squeeze her neck,then her arms and then her ass.

And then the orgasm comes like a thread that suddenly breaks;like a rubber band that breaks and bounces into the body and mind.He hits her deeply and can't help but indulge in those sensations.To that sea that invests her at the same time while Daemon comes inside her but she no longer understands anything.

Y/n feel like she is on a cloud,she feel like she is flying.The sweat-soaked back doesn't touch the bed but the sky.

And all of a sudden everything becomes calms and quiet.

Daemon kisses her shoulders as if to console her because he knows her thoughts,he knows his little girl.He cautiously gets out of her and moves to her side.And the balance in silence returns,as the beats of their heart slow down.

Because after all,life was a game of balance,and that was the perfect balance for them.

[myadmiringmind]

Sunrise | Hiccup Haddock

Hiccup Haddock Masterlist

Word Count: 1.3k

Genre: Domestic-ish fluff

Pairing(s): Hiccup Haddock x Fem!Reader

Summary: An early morning ride turns into a race between you and Hiccup.

Warnings: Heights

Notes:

Reader is a dragon rider

Readers dragon is never specified

Take place on Dragons Edge

|PICTURES ARE NOT MINE|

——————————————————————

Hiccup makes handling dragons look easy.

It’s not.

It seems that Dragon Hunters have a never ending schedule of making your life difficult.

All you wanted to do was sit outside your hut (that you spent far too much time trying to decide where to place) and enjoy the beautiful view with your dragon, your boyfriend, or your friends.

Easier said than done.

When your boyfriend is Hiccup Haddock who has devoted most of his life to protecting dragons, free time doesn’t come often.

Hiccups values are part of the reason you fell so hard for him, but sometimes it seems to take from your relationship.

Laying in your bed thinking all of this over in your head is not a great start to your morning.

So, you climb out of your bed and throw on some clothes.

You whistle as a sort of wake up call to your dragon who is sleeping soundly.

Your dragon groans and moans barely opening one eye to look at you. This was their way of saying, “Do you know what time it is?”

You scoff under your breath completely aware they could still hear it, "Don't worry, I haven't lost track of the time. Let's go for a ride, just you and me." You move to get their saddle as they move around loudly in protest.

"Weren't you the one who wanted to start doing this?" You bring up the time Hiccup mentioned that he and Toothless go for early morning rides often and your dragon looked at you as if to say, "We should do that!"

Your dragon lets out a regretful moan in response.

You throw the heavy saddle over their back with little difficulty.

"Come on, if you really don't like it, we'll end it early."

____________________

Your dragons behavior has done a full one-eighty. How the dragon you're riding on now and the one you argued with this morning were the same creature baffles you.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" You tease, watching your dragon close their eyes at the feeling of the wind hitting their face.

They snort and suddenly drop a few feet in the air.

A shriek makes it's way out of your mouth and it takes you a few moments to realize that you aren't falling anymore.

"Not funny." You ground your teeth a little.

All your dragon does is laugh in response.

Just when you got over the shock in your body does a familiar voice startle you.

“Good morning, milady!”

Turning your head to peer over your shoulder, you make eye contact with the voice, returning his wide grin with your own.

“Good morning!” You laugh, only needing to wait a minute more before Hiccup and Toothless were right beside you.

Your own dragon and Toothless exchange greetings as you and Hiccup chat.

“Didn’t expect to see you out so early. Something on your mind?” Hiccup questions

You shake your head, grin never faltering, “Just wanted some fresh air, before everyone wakes up. But it seems someone is up.”

Hiccup chuckles, “Oh, you know, just out looking for some adventure. Right, bud?” Toothless grumbles in agreement.

“Adventure, you say? Well, do share with the group.” Your tone is playful.

Hiccup waves his hand in dismissal, “Unfortunately, me and Toothless have seen quite enough adventure for one day. But, I wouldn’t be opposed to sharing our stories to you, milady.”

“You’re all out of adventure for the day? Don’t say that, Snotlouts not even up yet.”

Hiccup's laugh echos around you.

—————————

"So this is where you run off to hm?" You tease sitting down on what you previously believed to be a watch tower. Now realizing it was Hiccup's camouflaged hideout.

Hiccup scoffs playfully, "I don't run off anywhere."

"You're right, you fly." You add

Both Hiccup and your dragon roll their eyes but Toothless lets out a snort of amusement.

"At this point he barely walks himself anywhere, isn't that right?" You look over at Toothless, who happily humors you.

"All right, all right. I guess I won't take you on any morning rides anymore bud." Hiccup voices looking a little smug.

Toothless no longer looks amused.

"Nothing to say Toothless?" Hiccup pokes, earning a glare from the Nightfury.

"Don't worry, Toothless. If he doesn't take you on any morning flights, I will." You whisper loud enough for the other two to hear you, earning a protest from both.

Toothless lets out a laugh and hops around in satisfaction.

Your dragon makes loud noises of detestment and even goes as far as glaring at Toothless.

"What?" You address the cranky dragon, "Do you know how hard it was to get you out of the hut this morning? I'm sure Toothless wouldn't make it so hard for me?" You tease

"Now wait a minute, who said you could steal my dragon?" Hiccup says

"Your dragon." You reply and hear Toothless agree behind you.

Hiccup's mouth opens but no words come out.

You were too busy soaking in the satisfaction you felt from Hiccup's response that you didn't notice your dragon make its way over to you until they knocked you over with their head.

"Hey!" You shriek as your dragon "attacks" you.

You can hear Hiccups laugh in the background and Toothless' sound of surprise.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, I was just teasing!" Finally they let up looking satisfied with themselves.

"Like rider, like dragon." Hiccup comments

You scoff, "Says you."

Hiccup leans back against a rock, "Says me." He agrees.

You lean back against your dragon and shake your head.

After a few moments of comfortable silence you reopen the conversation, "Any news from Johann?"

Hiccup sighs, "No. I know he's scouting almost as much as us but it's as if they've gone completely underground."

"Maybe they finally feel defeated. With the more people we meet and become friends with, the more unpopular the dragon hunters get." You add

"Maybe. Or they're planning their next ambush on a new dragon. I feel uneasy with how quiet they've been." Hiccup confides

"We'll keep looking Hiccup. Once we find them we'll stop whatever they're doing, just like we've done before."

Hiccup nods in agreement.

You find a way to bring up your next sentence, "While the dragon hunters are quiet maybe.. we could spend some time to enjoy it." At Hiccup's confused face, you continue, "It's been a long time since we've hung out together, just the two of us."

"We're hanging out together right now?" Hiccup says.

"I know. But just the two of us." You repeat

"Oh. Oh." Hiccup understands

"I know everything has been chaotic, I was just wondering since we seem to finally have some downtime. It'd be beneficial spending it doing something other than talking about the dragon hunters." You explain

"No, you're right. It has been a while since we've hung out, just the two of us. What were you thinking?" Hiccup asks

"I don't know, I wasn't even sure if you wanted to so I didn't really think about what." You say

"You think I wouldn't want to hang out with you? Of course I'd want to hang out with just the two of us, I enjoy your company more than anyone else." Hiccup says

You smile genuinely, "I've been wanting to go down on the beach and examine the shells, see if I could find any fossils or something. How about that?"

Hiccup grins, "Yeah, that sounds really fun."

Your smile grows and you stand up feeling high on adrenaline, "Come on. The others we'll be up soon and we don't want them setting the edge on fire before breakfast again." You offer your hand to Hiccup.

"No we don't." Hiccup takes your hand, "Thank you milady."

"So..race you back to the edge!" You hop on your dragons back.

"Wha-Hey! Wait a minute!" Hiccup calls after you hopping on Toothless' back, "That's not fair!"

-------------

edited on 05/13/2024

[aemondsbabe]

Gevie

summary: you finally agree to go for a ride on sunfyre and your betrothed certainly makes it worth your while

pairing: aegon ii targaryen x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, aegon being sickeningly sweet, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), breast/nipple play, dirty talk, doin' it on a dragon, gratuitous use of valyrian

word count: 4.5k

a/n: finally proving to myself that i can remain semi-tame with the word count, i bet y'all thought i couldn't do it!! they're fucking around on a dragon. he gets road head, except it's on sunfyre. they're very cute.

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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A high-pitched yelp rips its way from your throat as you feel Sunfyre move beneath you, stirring up dirt and dust from the floor of the Dragonpit as he beats his wings. Behind you, Aegon laughs, tightening his thighs around yours on the saddle and letting out an excited whoop as the dragon finally pushes off the ground. 

“Seven protect me!” You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as soon as you see the world fall away beneath you as Sunfyre rises higher and higher into the air. 

“Eglikta, Sunfyre! Sȳz!” Aegon calls out, pulling at the reins on the dragon's saddle as he guides him up and out of the Dragonpit. “You need not be so worried,” he soothes you, his voice loud and clear behind you as he speaks over the air whipping around the two of you, “You are with a highly skilled rider, my lady.” He reminds you sarcastically. (Higher, Sunfyre! Good!)

You gasp loudly as Sunfyre tilts upward, making you lean heavily on Aegon, your back to his chest as the dragon flies higher into the air. “It is not the rider I am worried about!” You call over the rushing wind, not daring to open your eyes as you grasp onto the sturdy leather straps of the saddle, white knuckling the material. 

“Sunfyre is a part of me,” Aegon explains for the thousandth time, smiling as he steadies himself on the saddle, wide eyes flicking in every direction as he scans the skies, “I trust him with my life, and I trust him with you.”

This was a familiar argument, one you’d heard many times before over the previous months as Aegon tried time and time again to convince you to go riding with him; it was one of the first things he’d asked of you as soon as the courtship had been arranged nearly a year ago. 

You’d finally relented, much to the prince’s delight, when news of your marriage was officially announced. “Consider it an early wedding present, your grace,” you’d told him at the time. 

Oh, how you had come to regret those words now that your heart felt like it was in your throat, your hair whipping wildly in the air behind you as Sunfyre climbed ever higher. “M-My love,” you stuttered, trying your damnedest to keep your voice level, “Could we not stay closer to the ground?”

Aegon chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back even through the various layers you both wore to guard yourselves from the cold air. “Bē konīr, gaomagon jāre!” The prince spoke, Sunfyre grumbled beneath you in response. Although you did not understand the command, and certainly not the beast's response, you could feel the bond between your betrothed and his dragon — some invisible current connecting one to the other. (Almost there, keep going!)

“You should trust me more than this!” Aegon laughs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the side of your head, “You seemed to have plenty of it the night of the banquet last week,” he began in that brash, cocky tone you’d grown accustomed to, “When you let me shove my head up your dress in the gardens onc—"

“Aegon!” You chided, one hand abandoning the leather straps long enough to playfully swat him on the thigh. 

“What?” He asks, no doubt smirking deviously, “Surely there is no one to overhear us up here!” 

Suddenly, Sunfyre tilts forward, righting you in the saddle once again and making you let out an embarrassing squeal. “Gīda, Sunfyre! Dohaeris!” Some small amount of happiness at recognizing one of the words, dohaeris, manages to cut through the fear you feel, making you let out a small giggle. “Almost there, sweetling,” Aegon smiles, one of his hands abandoning the reins to wind around your waist instead, holding you securely to him, “You’ll love this.” (Calm, Sunfyre! Obey!)

Still squeezing your eyes shut, you nod wordlessly, tightly gripping onto his forearm, your thighs trembling around Sunfyre’s saddle. “Are we up very high?” You ask, your voice sounding small, even to your own ears. 

Aegon chuckles again, eyes scanning the horizon as the golden dragon finally breeches the clouds, “We’re just as high as we need to be, hush.” The vague answer makes you uneasy, but you do feel slightly calmer as you notice a change in the air. It’s calmer now, breezing around you like a soothing song, making your hair flutter about gently rather than whip at your face. It’s quieter too, you cannot even hear birdsong nor the rushing of air anymore, as if the two of you have entered a void. 

“Sȳz, Sunfyre. Gaomagon gīda.” Again, Sunfyre grumbles, his agreement to whatever Aegon commanded vibrating through your body. A moment later, the prince runs a hand through your hair, tenderly brushing it away from your face as he presses another light kiss to your cheek, one arm still holding onto you tightly. “Open your eyes, my love.” He says softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. (Good Sunfyre, keep steady.)

Cautiously, you do as he asks and slowly open your eyes. At first, you cannot see much, blinking to dispel the tears brought on by bright sunlight, but once your eyes finally adjust, you gasp. You can feel your eyes widen to the sight before you, one unlike any you’ve seen before. Aegon had brought you up above the clouds, the dreary grey skies that had once been above you now spread out below you like an endless pale sea. Up here, everything was so bright, slightly pink tinted from the sun, and so stunningly still and calm, the only movement coming from Sunfyre gliding through the air.

“Gods,” you breathe, your grip finally loosening somewhat on Aegon’s arm as you scan the skies before you, “Aegon, it’s…” You trail off, mouth hanging open at a loss for words. 

“Beautiful,” he finishes, though when you turn your head to him, his gaze is already fixed on you, the corners of his lips turned up into a barely there smile. 

You can feel your face heat up at his attention, suddenly all too aware of how much of your bodies are pressed together on the saddle, of how his arm is still wrapped so securely around you. Despite being so far up in the cool atmosphere, you can feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks, your heart beating faster as a pleasant, familiar coil starts spiraling in your stomach – your thighs tightening around the firm leather of the saddle in an attempt to press together. 

“You were right,” you smile contentedly at Aegon over your shoulder, “It is magical up here, my love. And so calm and quiet…” You let your voice trail off as you relax into his chest, his warmth encompassing you as Sunfyre continues gliding above the clouds, his beautiful golden scales gleaming in the early evening sunlight. 

Every once in a while, pockets in the thick cloud floor open up, giving you glimpses of green farmer’s fields, the blue water of lakes, or the dusty browns of the roads that litter Westeros. The pockets seem to zip by as quickly as they come, leaving you unsure of exactly where you are above the kingdoms. “I feel so far away from everything.” You conclude finally, a strange sense of calmness threading its way through the unease that still blankets your belly. 

“Precisely,” Aegon answers, a far-away look taking hold in his dark violet eyes, one you had grown used to seeing over the course of your courtship with the prince.

Now it seemed as if it was your turn to gaze at him instead of the view, letting him have a moment to himself as you admired him, eyes trailing over the gentle slope of his nose, the pout of his pink lips, the alabaster column of his neck. You couldn’t help but squeeze his forearm tighter, trying to ground him you suppose — ironic as it was — to save him from whatever snare he had been trapped in in his mind. 

All at once, whatever melancholy had taken hold of him seems to wash away with a small gasp as he comes back to himself, centering you with a calm smile, though to you it may as well be as dazzling as the sparkle of Sunfyre’s scales.

 “We are indeed far away up here, sweetling,” he drawls, the familiar smooth, cocky cadence back in his voice sending a shiver up your spine, butterflies erupting in your belly. “Away from court, away from guards,” he continues, trailing light kisses down the slope of your neck and onto your shoulder, relishing the way you sigh and go ever more limp against him, “Away from any prying eyes at all, really.” He finishes, raising his eyebrows in sarcastic surprise as he shrugs. 

You can’t help but laugh at his tone, morphing into an uncontained moan as his teeth lightly graze your shoulder, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as your head tilts back against him. “Up here?” You ask, your voice already breathy.

He chuckles against you, low and dirty, “What better place is there, sweet girl?” He asks, rutting against you atop the saddle, making you gasp as you feel his hard length pressing against the small of your back, “There’s no one up here to stop us, no one to see us…” he husks, pressing wet kisses against your neck as his hand, the one not currently wrapped around you, abandons Sunfyre’s reins, coming instead to press against your breasts – his touch, even through your layers of clothing, making your nipples harden, the coil in your belly winding ever tighter. 

You whine as he touches you, unable to resist him even after all this time. “Aegon, please,” you whimper, gasping as you feel him unbuttoning your overcoat, sending a chill down your spine from the cold air against your skin. You’re unable to find it within yourself to care when you feel his warm hand, encased in a smooth leather glove, encompass your breast, lithe fingers immediately seeking out your nipple and teasing it relentlessly, “Oh, my love!” You gasp, grinding your hips down against the leather of Sunfyre’s saddle. 

He shushes you gently, teeth grazing against the side of your neck once more before you feel his lips curl into a smirk. Slowly, he removes his hand from where it’s nestled beneath your overcoat and dress, chuckling when you whine; quickly, he pulls off one of his riding gloves, tucking it securely into a coat pocket.  “Suck,” he says simply, pressing his fingers against your lips. You do as he says without complaint, running your tongue over the digits before properly sucking at them, moaning unabashedly when he presses them further against your tongue. “Gods,” he groans, voice deep and gravelly, “I love being in your sweet little mouth,” he murmurs, letting you suck contentedly for a moment longer, “Such a good girl, drooling around my fingers.”

His praise makes you moan, garbled around his fingers, as your eyes roll back in your head, your head bobbing as you suck, drool pooling at the corners of your lips as you lathe your tongue over his fingers. 

All too soon, he pulls them away, making you whine at the loss. However, that quickly turns into a loud, punched out moan when he resumes teasing your nipple, your spit instantly cooling in the air, which only serves to make the bud somehow harder. He groans with you as he spreads the slick around your breast, rutting his hard length against you.

“Sweetling,” he begins, a hint of taunting laughter in his voice, “Do you remember what we did during the last hunt? Hm? Hidden away in one of my tents?” 

You whimper, nodding as the memory floods back to you – the two of you sneaking away together during the final night of a large, week long, hunt, leaving everyone else feasting and dancing at the campfires. You were both giggling like children, half-drunk on Dornish wine, when you’d stumbled into one of Aegon’s tents, lips crashing together haphazardly in the dark. It had ended with you on your knees, taking the prince into your mouth as he leaned back against a storage chest, his hands tangled in your hair as your lips and tongue skirted up and down his length. 

The memory still floods you with arousal; it hadn’t been your first time pleasuring Aegon in that way, but it had been by far the most daring. “I have not felt your mouth on me in some time, my love,” he teases, moving you back against his length, still trapped in the confines of his trousers, “And we’re so hidden up here, no one to walk in and catch us, it would be a shame not to use the chance while we have it…”

Despite the circumstances, his offer is tempting; you love bringing him pleasure, love hearing the little gasps and moans he makes escape his lips. “How would we?” you ask, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, his violet eyes full of desire, “All the way up here, I mean.”

“You trust me?” Aegon asks, placing both of his hands on your hips.

You nod instantly, not even needing to give his question a second of thought, “Of course, you know I do.” You answer truthfully. 

Smiling, he slowly moves his hands until they come to rest at your hips. “Gīda, Sunfyre.  Rȳbagon naejot nyke,” he commands the dragon before once again looking at you. “Okay, my love,” he taps one of your thighs, “Just bring this leg up and over the saddle, yeah? Like on a horse.” (Steady, Sunfyre. Listen to me.)

“Oh, definitely, just like on a horse,” you say sarcastically, an attempt to keep your nervousness at bay, which makes Aegon chuckle behind you. Slowly, you do as he says, leaning back onto him for support as you swing your leg up and over Sunfyre’s massive saddle, coming to sit side-saddle atop the beast. 

“Okay, good,” Aegon smiles, keeping his hands tight on your waist, “Now just turn…” He murmurs in concentration, patiently helping you turn your torso to face him, and sighing happily when you do. “And the other leg,” he commands, steadying you as you bring your opposite leg back over the saddle, “Perfect.” He praises you as you right yourself again, now facing him.

You give yourself a moment to breathe, getting used to facing the opposite direction. As soon as you look at the prince, though, that coil of arousal that was winding itself tight in your belly starts moving once again when you notice his eyes scanning over your chest, a sliver of your skin exposed from where your overcoat remains unbuttoned, your own underneath pulled to the side. 

His eyes meet yours, and he smirks when he notices your own arousal. All at once, the two of you crash together once again – lips colliding together as you moan into each other's mouths, hands grasping onto whatever parts of the prince you can reach; you bite his lip teasingly, making Aegon growl.

“Little minx,” he breathes against your neck as he kisses down your jaw, “Wanting to suck my cock so badly you’d risk life and limb on a dragon.” He teases, smirking when your hands shoot out to undo the ties and buttons at the top of his trousers.

Rolling your eyes, you finally manage to free his length, making him let out a relieved groan. You languidly stroke him for a moment, savoring the broken, choked off moans he breathes into your mouth, the flushed tip of his cock already leaking onto your hand. 

“Gods,” he groans lowly, his hips already fucking up into your hand, “Your mouth, my love, please!” He asks, his eyes squeezed shut.

Smirking, you kiss your way down his jaw before carefully leaning forward, pressing yourself against the firm leather saddle until your face is level with him. You give a quick kiss to the underside of the tip, right where you know a little sensitive ball of nerves lies, before you softly run your tongue over the head; you’re a goner as soon as the salty taste of him hits your tongue, losing yourself in the task as always. With a whimper, you begin bobbing your head up and down along his cock, one of your hands coming up to stroke the small bit at the base that you can’t fit in your mouth. 

One of Aegon’s hands comes up and wraps itself in your hair, pulling it back and away from your face as he grinds up into the heat of your mouth. “Fuck,” he moans, long and low as he tilts his head back, “So good, so good, fuck.” He repeats, already lost in the way you feel, in how dutifully you pleasure him – just like a good little wife should, and he knows you will be the best wife for him.

You close your eyes, head spinning with adrenaline as you continue pleasuring him, the hand at the base of his cock moving lower to cup his stones and gently roll them in your palm, just the way you know he adores. The effect is instantaneous, a punched-out groan wrenching itself from his throat as his abdomen contracts, making him jerk in your hold. You chuckle around him, drool slipping out of the corners of your mouth as you smile around his length, pleased to have reduced him to such a state already. 

The noises he’s making, along with the feel of him in your mouth, hot and heavy on your tongue, make you clench around nothing, whining onto his length, which catches his attention. You hear him chuckle above you, laughter turning to a pleasured hiss when you suck him deeper into your mouth, “Is having my cock in your mouth getting to you, sweetling?” He questions in the same cocky tone you’ve come to know so well, “Making your little bud ache?”

You nod around him as best you can, moaning around him when the hand in your hair clutches the strands tightly, leading you in the exact rhythm he wants as he ruts in and out of your mouth. He lets out a pleased hum, “I’ll take care of you, my love,” he promises, pressing you lower on his length, his eyes rolling back when he feels you spit and gag around him, “Fuck, just as soon as I finish down this pretty throat.”

At that, you redouble your efforts, moaning around his cock as you suck him down eagerly. He starts grumbling in Valyrian under his breath, a sure sign that he’s close, as if the way he was fisting your hair and panting into the cool air wasn’t enough of an indication. Right when he lets out a deep moan of your name, almost sounding in pain, you move the fist around his base faster and press your tongue to the sensitive underside of his head as you suckle on it, one of your hands tugging at his stones in just the right manner. 

“Fuck!” He spits out, his body tensing up as he presses you further down onto his cock, a deep, resonating growl leaving him at the same second that his hot seed spurts directly down your throat as his length pulses and twitches in your grasp. You moan at the familiar taste of him, your eyes slipping shut as you allow him to use your throat, swallowing down the last few drops of his seed while he whispers your name again and again in reverence. 

Finally, his hips stop twitching and the hand in your hair falls limp, allowing you to pull away from him. You sit up, moaning in surprise when he immediately tangles his hands in your hair again and pulls your face to his, uncaring that you’d swallowed down his spend mere seconds before as he bites your lip and tangles your tongue with his. 

You press yourself against him, sighing when you feel the warmth of his chest against yours, his body somehow hot despite the temperature, as if lit from within like Sunfyre. “Such a good wife,” he sighs against your lips, “How have I come to deserve you?”

“We are not yet married!” you laugh, shaking your head as you marvel at him, taking in the way his cheeks are still lightly flushed.

“A moon's time is close enough,” he shrugs, violet eyes gazing at you with adoration, though growing darker when he catches the sliver of your chest still exposed where your coat is open, “Turn back around.” He whispers suddenly, his voice husky. 

You don’t bother questioning him, simply nodding, although his hands are already back on your waist, helping you turn back around on the dragon’s saddle.

“Need to touch you,” he explains anyway, contently humming, low in his chest, when you’re pressed against him once more, “Need to make you feel good – you deserve to feel good.” He babbles, mostly talking to himself as he skirts his hands over your body. “Lenton sir, Sunfyre. Soves!” He commands, grabbing at the reins with his still-gloved hand, coaxing the large beast into a slow, smooth turn, although he still held you tightly to him until the dragon was once again gliding – his huge, rosy wings slicing through the air with practiced ease. (Home now, Sunfyre. Go!)

“Where –”

“Home,” Aegon huffs, fingers desperately tugging open the remaining buttons on your coat, frantically pushing the fabric out of the way as soon as the last one is pulled undone, eager to get his hands on your soft skin.

“But –” You start, only to be cut off as he groans impatiently, practically ripping the skirts of your dress in an effort to push them to the side, exposing your smallclothes.

“We’ll have time, sweetling,” he breathes, pushing a hand into the thin fabric, groaning when he feels how wet your slick folds are, so warm against his skin, “It’s not like it takes me long to bring you pleasure.” You can hear the boastful pride dripping from his low voice as he speaks against the side of your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver up your spine as your back arches against him.

“Oh!” You gasp as you feel his fingers finally touching you, immediately zeroing in on your aching, swollen bud with a practiced ease, sending electricity zipping up your spine. 

“Ooh, someone’s sensitive,” he teases, rubbing tight, wet circles against you as his gloved hand finds its way into your coat again, yanking down the fabric of your dress before he cups your breast, kneading the delicate skin in time with the ministrations to your cunt, “Do you enjoy my fingers, sweetling?”

 You nod, already panting heavily in his grasp, your body going from rigid to pliant as you moan unabashedly in the air, not needing to be mindful of your volume all the way up here – Sunfyre as your only witness seems wholly uninterested. He chuckles against your neck as he bites at the sensitive skin, the small pinpricks of pain only adding to the pleasure radiating from your core. 

You buck up against him as you feel two of his fingers venture lower, prodding at the opening of your slick heat, gathering some of the wetness there before roughly pushing them into you. You grunt out a curse as you feel them enter you completely, Aegon not bothering to tease them into you as he usually does and instead pressing incessantly against that rough spot within you that makes you see stars. 

“Aegon, my love,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand, his thumb catching against your bud as his fingers continue tormenting your center, scissoring and curling within you, “I’m–” You cut yourself off, unable to finish a thought with the way he’s handling you.

“I know you’re close,” he grunts, his hands moving frantically against you as you shake against his chest, one hand plucking and pinching at your nipple as the other fucks into your squelching wet heat, “I can feel this lovely cunt squeezing me.”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck!” You cry in time with the thrusts of his hand, your head tilting back onto his shoulder as you feel your high creeping ever closer, the fire in your belly growing to a blazing, roaring inferno. 

He laughs lowly as he mouths at the spot just below your ear, never tiring of being able to reduce you to such a base state, moaning and writhing in his arms. “Go on, sweetling,” he coaxes you, fingers rubbing up against that rough patch within you ceaselessly as his thumb circles your bud in the same rhythm, “Let yourself have it – you’re so close, let yourself feel good, my good girl, my love.” He begs between love bites, panting against your neck as you fuck yourself against his fingers. 

“Aegon!” You cry, your eyes squeezing shut as your entire body tenses with a sob, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as wave after wave of pleasure crashes into you. Your walls grip desperately at his fingers, coating his hand in your sweet juices as stars explode behind your eyelids, a vicious, loud moan punching out of your chest at the intensity of your high. 

Eventually, the waves begin to subside, leaving you whimpering pathetically against him as he continues gently pleasuring you, helping you ride out your peak for as long as your body will allow. After a moment though, his fingers finally come to a stop when he hears your small whimpers and whines, indicating that his touches are bordering on overstimulating you. 

He coos lovingly, soothing you with soft touches and kisses against your cheek as he licks your spend from the hand that had been fucking you, savoring your taste with drawn out, dirty moans, taking pleasure in the way it made you blush and squirm like you were still the innocent maiden everyone believes you to be. 

“Ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys,” Aegon murmurs after a moment, violet eyes studying you as he peeks from over your shoulder, “Nyke daor umbagon naejot dīnagon ao.” (My beautiful wife, I cannot wait to marry you.)

You don’t know what the words mean but they sound so beautiful coming from his pouty lips that you cannot help the blush that blooms on your cheeks, the sight making him chuckle. 

“Look,” he says, pointing into the distance, “You’ll love this.” 

Following the tip of his finger, you narrow your eyes, not seeing anything for a second. Just as you’re about to inquire as to what exactly you’re supposed to be looking at, you gasp, watching with wide eyes as the tallest tower of the Red Keep emerges from behind a cloud. 

“Seven,” you whisper, watching as the rest of the large fortress is slowly revealed, followed by the large domes of the Dragonpit and the Sept of Baelor, “Oh, Aegon…it’s beautiful.” You whisper, eyes sweeping over the entirety of King’s Landing, from the waves of the shores of Blackwater Bay all the way to small houses of farmers that lie beyond the city walls, all bathed in the golden, pinky lighting of the setting sun. 

“Gevie,” he breathes, gaze entirely fixed on you, on the way you hands grasp his, “Gevie ābrazȳrys.” (Beautiful, beautiful wife)

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[k4marina]

— ii. Dragon Rider || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: a new routine in a new world

warnings: idek lol. unedited and not properly read (i kept falling asleep lmao)

series masterlist || next part

~ 2.5k word count.

game of thrones x modern!fem!reader

[gif found on pinterest]

Never in my life have I regretted anything more than I did now. 

“Me and my big fucking mouth,” I grunted, getting up from the ground and dusting my leather pants. Gray Worm looks at me with a slightly amused expression. Of course he would, he just dropped me onto my ass for the fifth time today. 

It had been almost two weeks after the Small Council meeting. There had been a few more since then, but no major topics were discussed, other than Varys begrudgingly backing what I had said about Cersie having scorpions when asked if his little birds had any news. The new armor and weapons for the Unsullied are also being made. After a few talks with Daenerys, Gray Worm, a few Unsullied commanders, and I, the new armor design was decided on. Surprisingly the Unsullied were very artistic people and had great ideas. 

And, within the past two weeks, I’ve been tortured everyday, my limbs aching all the time, threatening to fall off. Everyday, I’ve been woken up at four in the morning for my sword lessons with Gray Worm for five hours a day. When I said I wanted to learn, I didn’t mean I wanted to train to be the world's best swordsman of all time. 

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I say towards him, wiping away the sweat on my face. 

“I have no idea to what you are referring to, My Lady.” Gray Worm says, feigning innocence. 

“You can’t call me ‘My Lady’ and then drop me on my ass for the fifth time.” I pointed out. 

Gray Worm smiled and got into a fighting stance and I mirrored. “Your defense has gotten better; however, your strength and stamina is lacking.” 

He gave the signal and charged towards me, going to swing towards my left. I sidestepped and blocked the hit with my sword before knocking it back. This time, I went for the attack, but Gray Worm expertly blocked me and knocked the sword out of my hand. The sword clattered against the stone ground, landing a few feet away from me.

“Maybe it’s best we stop for today.” He says, picking up the sword and placing it back onto the rack. I let out a sigh of relief and walked over to the inches, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat away from my face and neck. 

“Be honest,” I said, turning towards him. “Am I a lost cause?” 

He snorts out a laugh and shakes his head. “Apologies, My Lady.” Once he’d composed himself he answered, “No, I do not believe you are a ‘lost cause’. It may seem difficult now, but it will get easier later on.” 

“Wow, wise words,” I said sarcastically, taking a swig of water from the canteen. “They should call you ‘Gray Worm the Wise’.” 

“I’m pleased that you think I am someone with wisdom.” He says, giving a small bow, making me chuckle. 

After the lessons, I took a bath in my room, this time with the help of the servants. The first few days I would have them leave so I could bathe myself, but I guess over the days it just naturally happened. Once bathed and dressed in a white dress with gold embroidery and pearl beads before I made my way to the hall to have breakfast with Daenerys. 

Not only was it a good way for us to get to know one another (mainly her learning about me) as well as discussing future events and how we would maneuver through it. However, not all of it. I had made the decision to not tell her about Jon Snow or the White Walkers, I think that’s something she should organically go through. All she knows about Jon is that he’s the King in the North is Jon Snow, Ned Stark's “bastard” and the former Nights Watch Lord Commander who came back from the dead.  

The doors to the hall were swung open for me and I walked in, spotting Daenerys at the head of the table, looking through some documents. The sound of the doors closing, snapped her out of her thoughts. When she saw me she smiled, which I returned. 

“What did I say about bringing work to the dining table,” I lightly scolded. She gave me a sheepish look and protested, “it can’t be helped, it's important work. As Queen I’m expected to do this and more.” 

I walked over to her, carefully taking the documents and setting them off to the side. “Dany, you’ve been a Queen since you married Khal Drogo. You need to step back and take some time to just be Daenerys. Otherwise you’ll grow overworked.” 

“Alright, alright. If you’re so sure.” She nodded towards the servants to begin serving the food. Like always, an array of food was laid out for us to eat. We both began to eat, making small talk and updating each other with any new updates. 

“Gray Worm has been telling me that you’re quite exceptional with a sword,” She teased. 

I playfully rolled my eyes, groaning, “not you too.” She let out a laugh, teasing me some more. “What? He says you’re a fast learner. He says he’s never seen someone land on their arse five times in a row.” 

“Right, that’s it.” I huffed. “I’m running away.” 

Daenerys laughed some more and I tried to hide my smile. Truthfully, she reminded me of my younger cousin in Volantis, Mera. Both of them had a heart of gold and an innocent child-like soul deep down. 

“The servants told me that you refused to have your hair braided.” Daenerys points out. She’s not wrong. Instead of braiding my hair I opted to leave it in a ponytail or let it down. 

“Well, I haven’t won any battles.” I said. “Each one of your braids represents a battle won, I haven’t won anything.”

“So if you win you’ll braid your hair?” 

“Sure, why not. Why? Do you not want me to?”

“No, no. Actually, I would quite like that.” She smiled. 

I eyed her suspiciously, “don’t tell me you’re planning on putting me in the frontlines.” 

She shrugged. “Maybe. Your lessons with Gray Worm are going well. Who knows, by the time we’re ready for war you’ll be a master swordsman –or rather swordswoman.”

The rest of the breakfast went fine. Daenerys and I decided to take a stroll around the castle ground claiming she has something to show me. She dropped off the papers in her office before taking me through the back of the castle to the open fields in the back. The wind swept by us, carrying the saltiness of the ocean and the fresh scent of grass. 

“Where are we going?” I asked as she led me deeper into the field. 

“I just wanted to show you something. They’re right over there.” 

We stood atop a hill and at the foot of the hill on the other side resting were Daenerys’ dragons. I felt my heart stop. No way. What the actual fuck. My mouth ran dry as I looked over the three dragons. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion, all in their full glory. I looked over to Daenerys who was already looking towards me. 

“You’re serious?” I ask. She smiles and nods. “What if they don’t like me and decide to eat me?” 

Daenerys laughed, her cheeks turning pink. “They will do none of that sort, I swear. I have a strong feeling that they will like you.” 

Carefully she led me closer to the three dragons. With every step they just grew more and more. They towered over the two of us and stood with immense power. And to think that these three are just a small fraction of the size of Balerion and the rest of the Targaryen fleet. 

We stood a few feet away but I could still feel the heat that they emitted from their bodies. Their majestic eyes that were probably the size of my head watched me carefully. Shiny scales adorned their bodies that looked to be about the size of my hand or bigger. Their one claw nail was the same size as my limbs. 

Holy fuck was this crazy. I’d read about these dragons and even saw a few drawings made by people who’d seen them in textbooks, but being this up close and personal with them was a whole other experience. 

Oddly enough, for such dangerous creatures, they seemed to emit a sense of calm. 

“You feel it too?” Daenerys eyes my reactions to the dragons. “Their calm.” 

I nodded. “I thought my heart would be doing somersaults in my chest, but it’s not.” After the initial shock, I felt my body relax. 

“They’re so beautiful.” I said to no one in particular. 

We hung around them for some time, allowing me to get used to their presence while Daenerys told me stories about her and her dragons. 

I looked over the dragons. Drogon, named after Daenerys’ husband Khal Drogo. Rhaegal, named after Rhaegar the Dragon Prince. Viserion, named after Viserys the Beggar King. 

Daenerys followed my gaze to the cream and gold scales dragon that laid on the grass alongside his brothers. Viserion and Rhaegal seemed to play fight while Drogon watched. 

“Despite their playful nature, those two are the oldest.” 

“What? 

The dragons carefully made their way over to where we stood. Drogon moved towards Daenerys, moving his tail around her as if giving her a hug. Rhaegal moved around behind us, opting to lounge. Viserion, however, moved closer to me. His green eyes bore into mine, as if it was trying to communicate with me. 

He brought his face closer to me, like a dog wanting to be pet. I glanced back at Daenerys who nodded. 

Viserion tilts his head when I carefully bring my hand up to stroke his gold and cream scales. A deep purr comes from him, nearly startling me. He nuzzles his head into my palm and purrs some more. It wasn’t like a cat's purr, more like a deep bass. 

“Would you like to fly him?” Daenerys asks. 

“Yes,” I replied without a thought, too entranced at the dragon in front of me. 

She moves around Drogo, standing to the side of him. 

“Stand like this,” she says. “This is what I find the easiest.” 

I mimic her stance, standing besides Viserion. Drogon crouched down and Daenerys carefully stepped up, using his scales and spikes to seat herself atop the dragon. 

I copied her, being careful to not hurt Viserion (not that I’d be able to) and sat myself on top of the gold dragon. It was uncomfortable, almost like riding a really large horse with spikes and scales. How Daenerys was able to ride her dragons without a saddle or harness was beyond me. 

My hands gripped onto the spikes on Viserions back, holding on tightly as the gold dragon began to shift around from a crouched position to fully stand. My hands gripped onto him tighter as I tried not to fall off. I peaked over its massive body to see that Viserion was getting ready to take off. 

“W-wait!” I looked towards Daenerys who was watching from atop Drogon. “Why is it taking off? What do I do?” Panic filled my voice. 

There was no way in seven hells that she thinks that I can fly, right? 

“Hold on!” She grins just as Drogon takes off into the sky. VIserion gets ready and I can already feel myself slipping off. He takes off just as I adjust my position, hunching down and tightening my grip onto his spikes. 

Wind rushes past my ears and my hair flows all over the place. Instinctively, I closed my eyes while Viserion flew in the air. I could hear Daenerys call for me from across the sky. 

“Open your eyes!” She says. “You’ll be safe, I promise.” 

Carefully, I opened them. It was brighter up in the sky than on the ground and had a lot less clouds. I could hear the, surprisingly, gentle flaps of Viserions wings. I cautiously looked down, seeing that we were miles off the ground, so far up that we could see Dragonstone Island and I could feel my stomach start to buzz. 

“Don’t look down,” I look up to see Daenerys. “When it was my first time I was terrified, as well, but you cannot let your fear control you or else it will transfer to your dragon.” 

I nodded, taking in her words and sitting up straight with confidence. Despite still feeling uneasy I managed to get my grip on things (literally). Daenerys’ words rung in my ears. 

“Your dragon,” 

I’d read of Dragons bonding with non-Targaryens or non-Valyrians, case and point being Hugh Hammer riding Vermithor during the Dance of Dragons. But it would make sense if I could bond with Viserion in light of recent findings. 

“Alright, let’s see what we can do.” I said to Viserion and I. 

—

Daenerys and I spent the rest of the day riding our dragons. It was challenging, especially the part where you literally have to hold onto for dear life, but rewarding in the end. 

In the end Viserion and I had truly bonded. He would know what I was thinking or how I was feeling without even saying a word to him. At first I thought it was just the two of us getting the hang of each other, but Daenerys explained that this was what she and Drogon felt. It was hard to believe that I was a Dragon Rider. But then again, this past week has shown that anything could be possible. 

Getting off the Dragons was harder than getting on, my dress snagging on its scales, but not ripping entirely. 

“I can help you with your riding,” Daenerys says as we walk back into the castle. 

“I’d like that.” I replied. “I’m sure we can find books in the libraries that can help us too.” 

“Have you uncovered anything else?” She asks, expectantly. 

I shook my head. “Nothing of significance. I’ll keep reading and let you in on my findings.” 

We split off so we could clean ourselves up and get ready for dinner. The bathtub was already ready for me when I entered the room. I pulled off my dress and sunk into the steaming hot water. The tension in my shoulders loosened and I dipped my head back to rest on the edge of the bathtub. 

The weight of my necklace lay heavy on my chest, a firm reminder of my… predicament. I tried not to think about it all, otherwise I’d just spiral into some rabbit hole. Some days I wonder if it’s all some sort of dream. A long, vivid dream that I can't wake up from. A knot pulls at my chest, and my throat closes. My eyes flicker up to the ceiling, tears threatening to fall. I took a deep breath, the only thing I can do is take everything in day by day.

And then I fully submerged myself into the water.

a/n: finally, it’s here :) mb if there’s any spelling mistakes, i tried to proofread it but i kept falling asleep and couldn’t be asked anymore 😭 i’ll fix it later, trust 🙏.

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[r0ugesun]

I was looking for an angel who could write for Addam Velaryon and I found you🥹 (I've become obsessed with this man and he deserves more recognition).

After Addam is taken to the Black Queen's castle, he becomes betrothed to the Reader (daughter of Daemon and Rhaenyra)?? Addam meets her and she is super tough. The Reader is also assigned to accompany his training and teach him the basics of High Valyrian. Something funny and cute.

If you could write it, can you add that the Reader is Vermithor's rider?

(and sorry for the long request)

Hii tysm for sending this request I absolutely love addam and though he’s not as popular as other characters i am soo happy to be writing for him I hope my writing meets ur expectations :>

Synopsis: Addam, betrothed to Y/n Targaryen, trains rigorously in dragon riding and High Valyrian under her guidance. As he transforms from novice to warrior, they forge a powerful bond

Addam Velaryon x Targaryen! Reader

Addam stepped into the courtyard of the Black Queen’s castle, his eyes wide as he surveyed the imposing architecture. The grandeur of the castle, with its high walls and intricate stonework, was almost overwhelming. His thoughts were interrupted by a thunderous roar reverberating through the stone walls. He glanced skyward to see Vermithor, the massive dragon, perched regally atop a high tower. His heart skipped a beat, the tales of Vermithor’s might paled in comparison to the reality of seeing the dragon in person.

A voice, sharp and commanding, cut through his reverie. “Cease your gawking at my dragon. Vermithor doesn’t take kindly to strangers”

Addam turned to see a young woman standing with an air of confidence, her arms crossed. She was tall, her fierce violet eyes unmistakably reminiscent of her father, Daemon. This must be his betrothed, the daughter of the black queen Rhaenyra.

“You must be Addam,” she said, approaching with a confident stride. “I am here to ensure you do not make a complete fool of yourself in training and to instruct you in the basics of High Valyrian.”

Addam nodded, attempting to mask his apprehension with a courteous smile. “Your assistance is most welcome. And you are…?”

“Your betrothed,” she replied with a wry smile. “But you may call me y/n. Now, let us ascertain whether your skills on dragon back match you talent for gawking.”

They proceeded to the training yard, where an array of wooden dummies and practice weapons awaited. Y/n stood beside addam and seasmoke.

“The enemy will show you no mercy and neither should you, seasmoke is fast and agile when you are within reach of the enemy command seasmoke to burn the enemies, ‘dracarys’ is the command” Addam nodded, absorbing her words as they stood before Seasmoke.

The dragon, sleek and agile, seemed a stark contrast to the imposing figure of Vermithor. Addam felt a surge of determination as he mounted Seasmoke, the dragon shifting slightly beneath him.

Y/n watched him with a critical eye, her arms still crossed. "Remember, Addam, confidence is key. Dragons respond to strength and certainty. Show any hesitation, and Seasmoke will feel it."

Addam took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Dracarys!" he commanded, his voice firm.

Seasmoke responded immediately, unleashing a torrent of fire upon the practice dummies. The wooden figures were engulfed in flames, the heat palpable even from a distance. Addam felt a thrill of exhilaration course through him.

Y/n's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Hmm..Not bad" she conceded. "But there's more to dragon riding than just giving commands. You need to become one with your dragon, understand their movements, their moods."

She mounted her own dragon, Vermithor, with practiced ease. "Watch closely" she instructed. Vermithor took to the sky, his powerful wings beating against the air. Y/n guided him through a series of maneuvers, displaying a seamless connection between rider and dragon.

Addam watched in awe, determined to reach that level of mastery. He knew he had a long way to go, but with Y/n's guidance, he felt a glimmer of hope. As she landed gracefully beside him, she gave him an appraising look.

"You're not completely hopeless" she said, her tone teasing. "But you've got a lot to learn. Come, we'll start with the basics of High Valyrian. It’s time to see if your mind is as sharp as your instincts."

Addam dismounted, following her towards a shaded alcove where a table laden with scrolls and books awaited. He felt a mixture of anticipation and apprehension, but also a burgeoning respect for the woman who was to be his wife.

Two weeks had passed, and each day was a rigorous test of Addam's resilience and determination. Y/n proved to be a relentless instructor, her expectations high and her methods demanding. Under her watchful eye, Addam's mornings began with intensive dragon-riding sessions, where he learned to maneuver Seasmoke with precision and confidence. Afternoons were dedicated to mastering the intricacies of High Valyrian, a language as complex as it was ancient.

The once unfamiliar syllables and guttural sounds began to flow more naturally from Addam’s lips, thanks in no small part to Y/n’s exacting standards. Her fierce violet eyes missed nothing, and she corrected his slightest missteps with a firm, yet patient, demeanor.

One afternoon, after an exhausting session of both physical and linguistic training, Addam found himself in the castle’s library, poring over a scroll of High Valyrian texts. Y/n entered, her presence commanding as always.

“Your pronunciation has improved,” she remarked, settling across from him with a satisfied nod. “But there is still much to perfect.”

Addam looked up, a weary but grateful smile on his face. “Your guidance has been invaluable. I could not have come this far without your relentless instruction.”

Y/n smirked, a playful glint in her eyes. “Relentless, am I? Perhaps today we will tackle something more challenging.”

She leaned forward, her fingers tracing a line of text on the scroll. “Repeat after me: Nyke nykeā zaldrīzes kipagīros”

Addam furrowed his brow, focusing intently.

“N-nyke nykeā zaldrīzes kipagīros” he echoed, stumbling slightly over the unfamiliar words.

“Good,” Y/n encouraged, though a hint of mischief danced in her voice. “Now, try this one: Nyke hen lopor se embar”

Addam’s concentration deepened, his tongue struggling with the fluidity of the language. “..Nyke hen lopor se embar” he repeated, his pronunciation faltering.

Y/n chuckled softly, her laughter like a melody. “Close enough,” she teased. “One more, but this time I wish to hear what you’ve learned.”

Addam sighed, determination and frustration mingling in his expression. “Avy….. jorrāelan” he said, the words foreign yet strangely familiar on his lips.

Y/n’s eyes softened, her demeanor shifting from instructor to something more tender. “Do you know what you just said?” she asked, her voice a gentle whisper.

Addam gazed at y/n with sincerity in his eyes. “Tell me what you heard”

Y/n leaned in closer, her gaze locking with his. “You said, ‘I love you.’”

Addam’s heart raced, suddenly feeling foolish like a schoolboy with a crush. “Y/n” he began, his voice trembling slightly, “I…I meant it. I do love you.”

Her smile deepened, her hand reaching out to gently touch his. “And I love you, Addam,” she confessed, her eyes shining with emotion.

Gently, almost hesitantly, Addam closed the distance between them. His hand rose to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin. Y/n’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest as she tilted her head slightly, meeting him halfway.

Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, the world around them fading into insignificance. The kiss was a tender melding of shared affection and unspoken promises, each moment stretching into eternity. Addam’s hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss.

In that quiet corner of the castle library, amidst the ancient texts and whispered secrets, their hearts spoke a language older than any scroll, bound by a love that needed no translation.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Cherrywood

(1-2)

Short story # 19

Gif NOT mine.

Summary - On this night your land experiences the worst storm it's suffered in nearly a hundred years. Amidst the storm came a crashing noise like no other, and curiosity gets the better of you. When you find the source of the commotion, you are stunned to find the Rouge Prince unconscious beneath his fierce dragons wing.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (roughly) - 15 minutes

I haven't watched the show, or read the books. So please excuse any inaccuracies there might be.

"Easy boy, it's just a storm." (Y/n) murmured softly to her sheepdog, who whimpered and growled with every crack of thunder. She pet behind his ear, hoping to console her loyal dog. While still idly tending to her dinner over the hearth. "I hope Zero is okay." She muttered aloud, thinking of her horse sheltered in the barn. With a particularly loud crack of thunder, Leo whimpered and scurried under the nearby table. "Some guard dog you are." (Y/n) teased her pet playfully, felling sorry for him, but trying to make light of the situation. As she herself was afraid of what this storm would bring, and the damage that was bound to occur as it swept over her orchard. Thunder struck once more, but alongside it came a near deafening crash. "Oh no." Afraid the barn might have collapsed, (Y/n) rushed to grab her cloak. "Stay here." She called back to Leo, before rushing out the door of her cottage and into the storm. Lifting her head just enough to spot the barn, she was relieved to find it standing intact. But what had caused such a noise?

An animalistic yowl of sorts emitted from the shore afar, a sound unlike anything she'd heard before. Curiosity getting the better of her, (Y/n) began her treck towards the beach, wondering what sort of creature could make such a sound. The ground was soft and muddy beneath her boots, causing her to slip every so often, though she maintained her balance enough not to fall into the muck. Again the sound emitted from the beach, much louder now that she neared it's source. All that was left between her, and the creature, was a steep hill. With slow meticulous steps, she made her way up the hill, careful not to slip and fall all the way back down. When she reached the top, she cautiously peered over the top, as another deafening roar ripped through the night air. Her eyes immediately landed upon a mighty red dragon, and she was quick to duck her head back down, fear surging through her body at the sight of the beast. Again it roared and it sounded distressed, perhaps even in pain. "Gods protect me." She whispered softly, going against her better judgment, and peering over the hill at the mighty beast.

This time she observed a saddle strapped to the dragon, and when it shifted, she noticed the sigil for house Targaryen. "Not good, definitely not good." She muttered softly, as she scanned the beach for any sign of the rider. Her eyes quickly snapped back to the dragon, when it again shifted, this time lifting its wing just high enough for (Y/n) to spot the silhouette of someone laying in the sand. Assessing the situation (Y/n) concluded that something must be wrong with the rider, and the dragon was trying desperately to wake them with no success. "I must be crazy." She muttered under her breath as she worked up the courage to stand. Despite her body telling her to run for the hills, (Y/n) rose from her spot, and slowly descended down the hill towards the beast. Before she even reached the end of the hill, the dragons attention snapped to her, growling low in warning. "Definitely crazy." She breathed out quietly, holding her hands up in surrender to the beast. With slow steps she began walking towards the dragon, hoping it would understand that she meant no harm.

It's nostrils flared, as it bellowed smoke at her, halting her in her steps. "I only want to help, let me help please." She called out to the crimson beast, hoping she wouldn't be burned alive. The dragon shook its head, as if to dismiss the idea. "Their hurt, let me help." She tried again, her heart hammering when the dragon spread out it's wings, which covered the span of the beach itself. "I don't mean you harm, I just want to help." She kept her hands held out, bowing her head a little even, in hopes that it would understand her submission to its power. The dragon once more shifted, and turned its head to the side. It's furthest wing tucking back into its side. While the other wing over their rider remained outstretched. She took slow steps, not wanting to spook the beast into aggression, but wanting desperately to help the rider. When she finally reached them, she wasn't surprised to find that the man was definitely a Targaryen. If his clothes and dragon weren't enough to convince her, the long mane of snow white hair definitely was. His hair lay around him like that of a halo, and (Y/n) found herself stunned by how handsome he was, even drenched to the bone with rain.

She felt the dragons eyes on her, and tried to ignore it as she knelt beside the man. Carefully she pat his cheek, in a vain attempt to stir him awake. Though she suspected that if the loud bellowing roars of his dragon couldn't wake him, she would be just as unsuccessful. That is if he was even alive to begin with. Pulling her hood down, (Y/n) pressed her ear against the man's sternum, trying desperately to hear the rhythmic beating of a heart, over the rain pattering noisily on the dragons wing. Closing her eyes to try focusing better, she slowed her breaths, and strained to listen over the storm. "He's alive." She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally heard his heart beating steadily. She looked closely over his body, assisting that he had no major wounds that needed immediate tending to. Only to then realize she needed to get him back to her cottage somehow, and soon lest the cold take him while he sleeps. Looking back at the dragon she worried if it was something the beast would even allow. Though it had allowed her to come this close, perhaps even it knows what needs to be done.

She rose from her spot beside the man, removed her cloak, covering him with it, in an attempt to keep him warm. "I'll be back, I promise." She spoke to the dragon, still hoping it wouldn't lash out at her. It blew air out of its nose in her direction, and remained in place guarding its master. (Y/n) took that as her queue and dashed off towards her orchard. She became drenched in no time, shivering from the cold, but she ignored it and kept running home. Once there she made a beeline for the barn, barging in with enough force to startle her horse Zero. She rushed about, finding what she would need in order to transport the man back to her cottage. And old sled from when she was a child, which was designed to be pulled by a horse, was her go to. She also gathered rope and several blankets, before getting Zero's saddle onto him, along with the harness needed to strap the sled to. Once everything was ready, (Y/n) grabbed the spare cloak in the barn, pulled it on, and led Zero out into the storm. After she'd ensured the sled was secure, she pulled herself up onto the saddle, and set Zero into a trot back to the beach. Praying to the old gods and the new to protect her, to let the man still be alive, and to keep his dragon docile.

As she neared the hill Zero began to snort in discomfort and fear, sensing what was beyond the hill. "Easy buddy, we have to do this. Stay with me." She soothed him before ushering him to climb the hill. He neighed and pounded his hoof, before doing as he was told. When they reached the top of the hill, the dragon looked to them, and Zero reared up a little. "Easy Zero easy, it's okay." (Y/n) soothed him once more, her heart pounding noisily in her ears. The work horse snorted and trot in place for a moment, before slowly calming as the dragon showed no aggression. "Come on." She urged him forward, breathing a sigh of relief when he did so without hesitation. The dragon once more turned its head away when they neared, and Zero snorted in displeasure. "It's okay, we'll be okay." She assured him, hoping she was right about that. Once close enough (Y/n) dismounted Zero, and moved back to the man's side. Quickly and carefully she moved him onto the awaiting sled, covering him with several blankets to try and keep him somewhat dry, and clean from the mud Zeros hooves would kick up.

When she was satisfied with her work, she moved to secure several pieces of rope around him and the sled, to ensure he wouldn't fall off at any point during the trip. Certain that they wouldn't come untied or loose, she rose to her feet, gently patting Zero on the side. "Home Zero, take us home." She instructed the horse, remaining beside him to better watch over the man. Zero huffed once and began walking back towards home, his pace slow and calm. (Y/n) watched the dragon cautiously as they began the treck up the hill, hoping it would remain docile and wouldn't suddenly grow aggressive. However her anxiety didn't calm as the beast moved to follow them on foot. Trailing behind them like some massive winged dog, still loyal to its master and refusing to leave his side. Steadying her breathing she tried to focus on the task at hand, subconsciously wondering how in seven hells this all could have possibly happened. She'd heard the stories of the Targaryens, and they were renowned for their skill at dragon riding. Was it merely the storm that knocked them out of the sky? Or was it the work of something else entirely? What would happen if the man dies? Will the dragon kill her for not saving its master? Would the Targaryens kill her for not saving him?

Shaking her head of those thoughts she kept her eyes forward, as they neared her home. Pushing Zeros side a little to guild him to the barn. The dragon walked the opposite direction, making itself comfortable beside the cottage, though still watching (Y/n)'s every move. Quickly she removed Zeros saddle and harness, ushering him into his stall which she latched behind him. Still utilizing the sled, (Y/n) picked up the straps and began hauling him out herself, closing up the barn, then continuing on to the cottage. Luckily the front door was wide, which allowed her to pull the sled straight into the cottage and out of the rain. "Stay." She warned Leo who was still under the table where she'd left him. He wined but complied to her command. Setting to work (Y/n) removed the ropes and blankets, and even removed the top layers of the riders clothes. Knowing he needed to get warm, and into dry clothes before the cold could set in and make him sick. Thinking momentarily about the things her mother had taught her, she determined that it would be best for his health, if she just removed all of his wet clothes.

Before doing so she pulled the sled closer to the hearth, so he could get warm and dry off faster. Uncomfortable with the thought of a naked man she didn't even know laying unconscious in her home, she found a clean dry cloth and covered his modesty. "Leo come." She called to her sheepdog, who rushed to her side and followed her into her room. Closing the door behind her, (Y/n) quickly shed off her own wet clothes, dried herself with clean linen, and redressed into dry clothes. "Stay." She told Leo before she left the room, closing the door behind her for good measure. Afterwards she made her way to the room her and her brother shared when they were children, finding a decent pair of trousers tucked away in a chest. With those in hand she made her way back to the main part of the cottage, assessing the man to see if he was dry. Determining he was plenty dry, she worked to get him changed into the trousers, relived to find that they fit him just fine. Noticing the bruises on his ribs she retrieved a healing salve she made herself, gently rubbing a generous amount onto all the places she found bruises and scratches. Aside from those he seemed relatively unharmed. Again she walked off to her childhood room, retrieving a loose top from the same chest as before.

And before leaving the room, she assessed the only remaining bed within the room. It was a little dusty, but it would have to do for the night. She pulled the furs from the bed, and replaced them with cleaner furs. Flipping over the pillows she hoped it didn't smell musty, and the man would simply appreciate that she even helped him at all. Satisfied with her work, she grabbed the shirt, and made her way back to the man. Dressing him in the shirt with a gentle touch, she wondered who exactly this man was. Judging by his exquisite clothes he had to be a Targaryen of some importance, although most of them as far as she knew were of great importance. Mustering her strength, and bracing herself, (Y/n) carefully hauled the man up from the sled. And carried him as best she could to the bedroom she intended on letting him use. When she reached the room, she fell backwards onto the bed with an exhausted huff, groaning at the added weight of the man now laying on top of her, with his back against her chest. Carefully she maneuvered her way out from under him, then pulled him the rest of the way onto the bed. Afterwards tucking him under the fur covers, then leaving to rest by the hearth for a while.

After eating her dinner, (Y/n) determined that his clothes would need to be cleaned soon. Securing her cloak around her shoulders, she rushed out into the rain. Her heart jumping at the sight of the sleeping dragon, having forgotten about its presence until now. Swallowing the lump in her throat she made her way to the well, gathering several buckets of water over the span of several minutes. And filling a large cauldron over the hearth to warm the water in order to properly clean the clothes. When the water was sufficiently warm, she transferred the water from the cauldron into the washbasin. Thoroughly cleaning the clothes with care as to not cause them any damage, but get them sufficiently clean and tidy. She worked into the small hours of the morning, cleaning the clothes, and hanging them near the hearth to dry faster. Afterwards she cleaned the mess from doing laundry, and the small mess she'd made earlier in the day while preparing dinner. Lastly she cleaned up the mess made from the muddy sled she'd dragged into her home. By the time she was finished, the sun was beginning to rise, the storm subsiding a short while ago. And in that time she'd accidentally fallen asleep sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall across from the hearth.

While she rest soundly in the main room of the cottage, Daemon began to stir awake. Hissing in discomfort at the stinging pain in his sides, and the dull throb of his head. He felt hungover, and as if he were half on deaths door. Regardless he opened his eyes, blinking away the drowsy need to close them again. Realizing quickly that he didn't know where he was, or how he got there. Clearly it wasn't the castle, and the more he tried remembering the night before, the more confused he was. He remembered arguing with his brother, about something trivial, and then taking Caraxes for a ride. Then he remembered the storm, he remembered flashes of lightning nearly striking them out of the sky. And he remembered falling for what felt like an eternity. He quickly rushed out of the bed, trying to ascertain where he ended up. Barging out of the room, he half expected to be in a tavern or maybe even a brothel. And he was admittedly a tad bit surprised to find himself in a quant cottage instead. He wandered around the room, only realizing he wasn't in his own clothes, when he saw his hanging near the hearth. Peering around the hearth he finally spotted his host, sound asleep and looking exhausted.

He wondered how longs she'd been awake, and if she had been the one to bring him into her home. Caraxes made a noise from outside, startling the woman awake, which made Daemon smirk softly. "You're awake!" She breathed out in near astonishment, quickly standing from her spot on the floor. "Who might you be?" He asked her, committing her face to memory. "(Y/n) Voss, my lord." She bowed her head respectively. "I am no mere lord, sweetling, I am Prince Daemon Targaryen." He held his head high, smirking again at her clear surprise. "My Prince." She bowed more respectively, but Daemon waved it off. "Daemon will suffice." He hummed watching her closely as she relaxed before him. "How did I get here?" He asked with a tilt of his head. "I brought you here, I found you on the beach last night during the storm. Your dragon... It made quite a commotion, and I went to investigate." She looked almost bashful, making the Rouge Prince smile. "And he let you bring me here?" He inquired curiously. "It took some convincing, but he's a smart creature, and I think he knew I only wanted to help you." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You must be a special creature to gain the trust of a dragon so quickly." Daemon mused with a grin, loving the faint blush that dusted her cheeks.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

Part two ->

[novaursa]

What about a Jace x sister

Where he fell in love with her and in the same time he is not ok with it. He might be the only Targaryen related who thinks that’s not okay to loved their related. But no matter how he can stopped loving her, she might have a look more “Targaryen” with white hair with some black in it (narcissia Malfoy style?)

He always do some weird shit to be closed to her without drow to much attention, And when they finally get really closed their mother call all the bastard to become dragon rider. And Ulf find them in the Pit and try to get something from them in exchange of his silence.

Jace wake up and choose violence 🫣 and just say no and fuxk her in front of him and say that if he say anything he make sure his dragon will eat him

Sins of the Blood

- Summary: Jacaerys always loved his sister, more than he should. It was wrong, he knew it, but the dragon in him claimed you as his long ago.

- Paring: sister!reader/Jacaerys Velaryon

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top. Requests are closed!

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 4 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

- A/N: I've bonded the reader with Grey Ghost for the plot.

The sea breeze dances through the open halls of Dragonstone, carrying with it the scent of salt and the distant roar of the waves. You stand with Baela and Rhaena on the sun-warmed terrace overlooking the cliffs, the three of you bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Your laughter rings out, clear and melodic, mingling with the cries of the gulls that circle above.

Jacaerys Velaryon watches from a distance, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions. He knows he should not be here, should not be watching you so closely, but he cannot help himself. You, his sister, the only daughter of Rhaenyra, have been a constant presence in his life, a source of both comfort and confusion. His eyes trace the silver streaks in your hair, a reminder of your Targaryen blood, mingling with the deep brown inherited from your true father, though only you, he, and his mother know the truth.

He remembers when you were children, how you would chase each other through the halls of the Red Keep, your laughter infectious, your bond inseparable. He had always been protective of you, even when you didn’t need it. You were fierce, a dragon through and through, and yet, as you stand now with Baela and Rhaena, there is a softness to you, a grace that makes his breath catch in his throat.

"Do you remember the first time we flew together?" Baela’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. She grins at you, her violet eyes bright with the memory.

"Of course," you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. "I thought Jace would never let me ride my own dragon, he was so worried."

Jace feels a pang at your words, both pride and regret mingling in his chest. He had always been overly cautious with you, more so than with Luke or Joffrey. Perhaps he had always known, even then, that his feelings for you were not entirely brotherly.

Rhaena giggles, leaning in closer to you. "He’s always been that way, hasn’t he? Always the protector, always looking after you."

You shrug, though the warmth in your eyes betrays your affection. "He cares. That’s just how he is."

Jace clenches his fists at his sides, torn between the pride that swells in him at your words and the guilt that gnaws at him for the thoughts he cannot seem to banish. He knows it is wrong—this desire that burns in him like dragonfire—but it is also undeniably a part of him, a flame that refuses to be extinguished.

Take what is yours. The words echo in his mind, a voice that is both his own and something darker, something ancient. The blood of the dragon runs hot in his veins, urging him to act, to claim what he believes is his by right. You are his sister, yes, but you are also so much more. You are the embodiment of everything he has ever wanted, ever desired.

You turn then, as if sensing his gaze, and your eyes meet his. For a moment, the world seems to stop. The laughter of Baela and Rhaena fades into the background, the sound of the waves dulls, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heart.

"Jace," you call out, your voice breaking the spell. "Come join us!"

There is no hesitation in your invitation, no hint that you are aware of the storm raging inside him. You are just his sister, inviting him to share in the simple joy of the evening, oblivious to the battle he fights within.

He forces a smile, masking the turmoil beneath, and steps forward. "I was just enjoying the view," he says, his voice betraying nothing.

Rhaena giggles again, nudging Baela. "See, I told you he’s always watching over her."

Baela laughs, a sound like the tinkling of bells. "It’s because he’s a good brother."

The words cut deeper than they should, a cruel reminder of the line he cannot cross. He wants to be a good brother, he truly does. But the blood of the dragon does not care for such boundaries. The blood of the dragon demands more.

As he approaches, you smile up at him, that same smile that has always had the power to calm him, to soothe the fire within. But today, it only stokes the flames higher.

"Are you alright?" you ask softly, your eyes searching his face for something he cannot give.

He nods, the lie slipping easily from his lips. "Of course. Just… thinking."

You raise an eyebrow, a knowing look passing over your face. "You think too much, Jace. You always have."

He laughs, though it is a strained sound. "Someone has to, with you lot always running headlong into trouble."

Baela snorts. "As if you don’t love it."

He shrugs, unable to deny it. "Perhaps."

You laugh then, a sound so pure and unburdened that it twists something deep in his chest. How can you be so carefree, so unaware of the darkness that haunts him?

The conversation drifts to other things—plans for the next dragonride, the latest antics of your younger brothers—but Jace finds it hard to focus. His eyes keep returning to you, to the way the setting sun catches in your hair, to the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh. Every moment is a battle, every word a reminder of what he can never have.

Take what is yours. The voice whispers again, insistent, relentless.

He pushes it down, burying it beneath layers of duty, of honor, of love for his family. But it is there, always there, a part of him that he can never truly silence.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting the world in shades of orange and gold, you turn to him once more, your expression soft, almost tender.

"Thank you, Jace," you say quietly.

He frowns, unsure of what you mean. "For what?"

You smile, and it is a smile that breaks him, because it is so full of warmth, of trust, of love. "For always being there. For always watching over me."

He swallows hard, forcing down the lump in his throat. "Always," he promises, and it is both a vow and a curse.

You reach out, your hand brushing against his arm, and the simple touch sends a shock through him, setting his nerves alight. For a moment, he forgets himself, forgets everything but you.

But then Baela speaks up, her voice pulling him back to reality. "We should head inside. It’s getting late."

You nod, but your eyes linger on his for a moment longer, as if searching for something, something you cannot name.

Jace watches as you turn away, following Baela and Rhaena back into the castle, your laughter fading into the evening air. He stays behind, his heart a tumult of emotion, his mind a battlefield.

He knows what he feels is wrong. He knows that he should push these thoughts away, should bury them deep where they can never see the light of day. But he also knows that the blood of the dragon is not so easily denied.

As the stars begin to twinkle in the darkening sky, Jace makes a silent vow to himself. He will protect you, he will care for you, as a brother should. But he will also fight this desire, this hunger that threatens to consume him. He will not let it destroy him, or you.

But deep down, he knows that it will be difficult.

And as he watches the last light of day fade into night, he wonders if it ever truly will be.

Months have passed since that evening on the terrace, and yet the fire within Jacaerys Velaryon has not dimmed. If anything, it has only grown stronger, a persistent heat that simmers beneath the surface, threatening to consume him at every turn. He has thrown himself into his duties, into training and studies, hoping that the rigor will burn away these unwanted desires. But nothing works. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot escape the pull you have on him.

Today, he finds himself wandering through the halls of Dragonstone, his mind restless, his heart unsettled. The castle is quiet, the stillness only amplifying his thoughts. His feet carry him to the library, a place he knows you often retreat to when you seek solace or simply a moment of peace. He tells himself it is a coincidence, that he has come here to study, to distract himself with books and knowledge. But deep down, he knows the truth.

As he enters the library, the scent of aged parchment and ink greets him, a familiar comfort. He pauses in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room until they find you, seated near the window, the light of the midday sun casting a soft glow around you. You are engrossed in a book, your silver-streaked hair falling over your face, your expression serene. The sight of you, so peaceful and unguarded, sends a wave of warmth through him, and before he can stop himself, he is walking towards you.

You look up as he approaches, a smile tugging at your lips. "Jace," you greet him, your voice soft and welcoming. "What brings you here?"

He hesitates, his mind racing for an excuse. "I thought I might find you here," he admits, the words tumbling out before he can catch them. "I wanted to see if you needed any help with your studies."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful glint in your eyes. "Since when do you offer to help with my studies?"

He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. "I just thought... we haven't spent much time together lately. I miss it."

Your expression softens at his words, and you close the book in your hands, setting it aside. "I’ve missed it too," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

He can feel the tension between you, a charged energy that crackles in the air. The pull is stronger now, a magnetic force that draws him closer, and before he knows it, he is sitting beside you, his body instinctively leaning towards yours.

"What are you reading?" he asks, his voice rougher than he intended.

You glance at the book, then back at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "A history of Old Valyria. I’ve always been fascinated by our ancestors, by the dragons and the blood magic they wielded."

"Of course," he murmurs, though he hardly registers the words. He is too focused on the way your hand rests so close to his, the way your eyes seem to shimmer in the light. "Our blood is strong, isn’t it? The blood of the dragon."

You nod, your gaze holding his. "It is. It’s what makes us who we are."

The words resonate deep within him, a reminder of the truth he has tried so hard to ignore. The blood of the dragon is what binds you together, but it is also what drives him to the brink of madness. The fire that burns in his veins is not just a curse, but a part of him, a part of you. And he is no longer sure if he can continue to fight it.

"I wanted to ask you something," you say suddenly, breaking the silence that has settled between you.

He blinks, trying to focus. "What is it?"

You hesitate for a moment, as if gathering your thoughts. "I was wondering if you could help me with my dragon training. Grey Ghost is so much more... spirited than he used to be, and I thought maybe you could help me understand him better."

Jace swallows hard, the thought of spending more time with you, alone and away from prying eyes, sending a thrill through him. But it is also dangerous, more dangerous than anything he has faced before. Still, he finds himself nodding. "Of course. I’d be glad to help."

You smile, a smile that warms him from the inside out, and he knows he is lost. He cannot deny you, cannot deny himself any longer. The pull is too strong, the fire too fierce. And as you rise to your feet, gesturing for him to follow, he feels that pull tighten, like a chain around his heart, binding him to you.

The two of you walk side by side through the corridors of Dragonstone, the silence between you comfortable, yet charged with an unspoken tension. Your presence is a balm to him, calming and yet igniting something deep within, something he can no longer ignore. Every brush of your arm against his, every glance in his direction, fans the flames higher, until he feels as though he might burst from the sheer force of it.

When you reach the courtyard where the dragons are kept, you turn to him, your eyes bright with excitement. "Let’s start with the basics," you say, your voice full of eagerness. "You’ve always been better at this than I am."

Jace shakes his head, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. "It’s not about being better," he says, trying to keep his voice steady. "It’s about understanding them, forming a bond with them."

You nod, your attention fully on him now, and he feels a surge of pride at the trust you place in him. "I know," you say softly. "And I trust you to help me."

The words strike him like a blow, the weight of your trust almost too much to bear. He wants to be worthy of it, to be the brother you believe him to be. But he also wants more, so much more, and it terrifies him.

As you step closer to him, your arm brushing against his, he feels that pull again, stronger than ever. He knows he should move away, put some distance between you, but he cannot bring himself to do it. Instead, he finds himself leaning in, his body drawn to yours like a moth to flame.

"You know," you say, your voice barely above a whisper, "I’ve always felt safest when I’m with you."

The confession catches him off guard, and he looks down at you, his heart pounding in his chest. "Why?"

You smile up at him, a gentle, almost shy smile. "Because you’ve always been there for me, Jace. No matter what."

His breath catches in his throat, the intensity of the moment almost too much to bear. The pull between you is undeniable now, a force of nature that neither of you can resist. And as you stand there, so close that he can feel the warmth of your breath on his skin, he knows that he is about to cross a line that he can never return from.

But before he can act, before he can make the decision that will change everything, you reach out and take his hand in yours, your fingers curling around his. The simple touch sends a jolt of electricity through him, and he is lost, completely and utterly lost.

"Jace," you whisper, your voice trembling with something unspoken.

He looks down at you, his heart in his throat, and he knows that this is it. This is the moment he has been dreading, the moment he has been craving. The pull between you is too strong, the fire too fierce, and he knows that there is no going back.

But then, as if sensing the turmoil within him, you give his hand a gentle squeeze, your eyes full of warmth and understanding. "Thank you," you say, your voice soft and sincere. "For always being there."

And just like that, the moment passes. The tension between you eases, and you step back, releasing his hand. The pull is still there, still strong, but it is no longer overwhelming. For now, it is enough to simply be with you, to feel your presence beside him, to know that you trust him.

As you turn your attention back to the dragons, Jace takes a deep breath, steadying himself. The battle within him is far from over, but for now, he has won a small victory. He has resisted the pull, resisted the fire. But he knows it is only a matter of time before the dragon within him demands more.

And when that time comes, he is not sure if he will be able to resist.

The winds howl around the jagged peaks of Dragonmont, the volcanic heart of Dragonstone. The sky above is dark, thick clouds swirling in ominous patterns, but here, beneath the shelter of the mountain, you and Jacaerys find solace in the company of your dragons. Vermax and Grey Ghost, their massive forms partially obscured by the mist that clings to the rocky terrain, rest quietly nearby, their watchful eyes ever alert.

The air between you and Jace is charged, as it has been for days now. Since the arrival of the Dragonseeds and the beginning of the Red Sowing, there has been an unspoken tension, a shared anxiety that neither of you has fully voiced. Today, it seems, that silence is about to be broken.

Jace paces before you, his brow furrowed, his steps uneven. "I can’t help but worry," he finally says, his voice low, almost a growl. "Mother’s decision to let these Dragonseeds try to claim the dragons… it could destroy everything. The only thing that sets us apart, that makes us legitimate in the eyes of the realm, is our bond with the dragons. What happens if anyone can do it? What happens if they succeed?"

You watch him, feeling the weight of his concern settle over you like a heavy cloak. You understand his fear; it echoes within you as well. "They are Targaryen bastards, Jace," you say softly, trying to find the right words. "The blood of the dragon runs in their veins, even if the world doesn’t see them as we are seen. But you are right to be cautious. We cannot control what might happen if they succeed. But we can control how we respond."

He stops pacing, turning to face you fully. His dark eyes are intense, filled with worry and something deeper, something you’ve seen growing there in recent days. "What if it shatters everything? What if the realm no longer sees us as the rightful heirs? If they can claim dragons, what does that mean for us?"

You rise from your seat on a smooth outcropping of rock, moving closer to him, your steps slow and deliberate. You can feel the warmth of the dragons nearby, the heat from the mountain beneath your feet, but most of all, you feel the heat radiating from Jace, a fire that matches your own.

"We are more than our dragons," you say, your voice steady. "We are the blood of the dragon, yes, but we are also our mother’s children, the heirs of House Targaryen. That will not change, no matter what happens with the Dragonseeds."

Jace’s gaze softens as he looks at you, the storm in his eyes momentarily easing. "You always know what to say," he murmurs, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But I’m still afraid. Afraid of what this means for us, for our family."

You reach out, your hand finding his, and the contact sends a spark through you both. "Then we face it together," you say firmly, your fingers tightening around his. "Whatever comes, we face it together, as we always have."

For a moment, there is only silence between you, the kind of silence that speaks louder than words. The dragons are quiet too, their presence a comforting weight in the background. Jace’s thumb brushes over your knuckles, and the simple touch sends a shiver down your spine, the connection between you deepening with each passing second.

Without thinking, you step closer, and suddenly the space between you is gone. You can feel his breath on your skin, warm and unsteady, and the intensity in his eyes is almost too much to bear. The pull between you is stronger than ever, an undeniable force that you can no longer resist.

"Jace," you whisper, your voice trembling with something unspoken, something that has been building for so long.

He doesn’t reply, at least not with words. Instead, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that is both hesitant and eager, as if he is afraid you might pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you kiss him back, your hands moving to cup his face, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepens, all the pent-up emotions of the past weeks, months, perhaps even years, pouring out in that single moment. It is as if the fire that has always burned between you has finally found release, and there is no stopping it now.Jace’s hands find their way to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the desperation in his touch, the need that mirrors your own. "I’ve wanted this for so long," he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with desire.

"So have I," you admit, the words coming out in a breathless rush. "Jace, I—"

He silences you with another kiss, more urgent this time, and you can feel his hands moving to the fastenings of your attire. There is a moment of hesitation, a final chance to turn back, but neither of you takes it. Instead, you help him, your fingers trembling as they work to undo his clothing as well.

The air is cool against your skin as your garments fall away, but you hardly notice. All you can focus on is Jace, on the way his hands move over your body, on the way he looks at you as if you are the only thing that matters in the world. And perhaps, in this moment, you are.

He guides you down onto the warm rock, his movements careful, almost reverent. The heat from the mountain seeps into your skin, mixing with the heat of his touch, and you feel yourself trembling, not from fear, but from anticipation.When he finally joins with you, the pain is brief, a sharp sting that quickly fades, leaving only the overwhelming sensation of being completely and utterly connected to him. Jace pauses, his eyes searching yours, as if waiting for your permission to continue.

You nod, your voice caught in your throat, but the look in your eyes says everything. "Please," you whisper, and that is all it takes.

He begins to move, slow at first, almost tentative, but as the moments pass, the hesitation fades, replaced by a growing urgency, a passion that neither of you can control. You cling to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, urging him on, meeting his every movement with your own.

The world around you fades, the sounds of the dragons, the wind, the distant roar of the sea, all becoming nothing more than a distant echo. There is only Jace, only the fire that burns between you, the flames that consume you both, driving you higher and higher until you feel as though you might burst from the sheer intensity of it.

Just as you reach the peak of your union, lost in the sensation of him, you hear a sound, the soft crunch of footsteps on the volcanic rock. Your eyes snap open, and you see him—Ulf the White, one of the Dragonseeds, standing a short distance away, his expression one of surprise and amusement.

Jace’s movements slow as he becomes aware of the intruder, but he doesn’t stop, his body still pressed intimately against yours. His eyes narrow, and you can feel the tension in him, the protective instinct that flares up at the sight of another man watching you in such a vulnerable moment.

Ulf’s smirk widens as he recognizes both of you, his voice carrying an easy confidence as he speaks. "Well, well, what do we have here? Prince Jacaerys and his fair sister, indulging in some… private time, I see."

Jace doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze locked on Ulf, his body shielding yours from view. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, dangerous. "You will leave now, Ulf. And you will speak of this to no one."

Ulf’s amusement doesn’t fade. "And if I don’t? I imagine this little secret could be worth quite a bit."

Jace’s expression hardens, the dragon within him rising to the surface. "I have another proposition for you. Leave now and never speak of this, or tell someone… and Vermax will feast on your bones."

The threat hangs in the air, thick with the promise of violence. Ulf’s smile falters, the realization of Jace’s seriousness sinking in. He glances at the dragons, both Vermax and Grey Ghost now fully alert, their eyes locked on him, and he takes an involuntary step back.

"Fine," Ulf mutters, the bravado gone from his voice. "Your secret’s safe with me, Prince Jacaerys. I was never here." With that, he turns and hurries away, casting one last nervous glance at the dragons before disappearing into the mist.

Jace watches him go, his body still tense, but as the danger passes, his attention shifts back to you, his focus returning to the moment you had both been lost in. The fire that had momentarily cooled begins to burn again, his hands finding yours, his gaze intense.

"I will marry you," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "In the traditions of our ancestors, in the ways of Old Valyria. You are mine, and I am yours, for now and forever."

The words send a shiver through you, the weight of them, the promise in them, filling you with a sense of certainty, of belonging. You nod, your voice trembling as you respond. "Yes, Jace. Yes."

And as he moves within you once more, the world around you falls away, leaving only the two of you, bound together by the fire of your blood.

[moraxine]

Third Time’s the Charm [Aemond Targaryen]

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: Two times you almost kissed Aemond, and one time you actually did.

Words: 1.4k

i.

The Red Keep looms large as always, a castle of shadows and whispers, but there's a familiar charge in the air tonight. You feel it as you step through the winding corridor, the night breeze caressing your skin, making your feet nearly silent as you pace on the stone floor.

It’s nights like this you’re unable to find sleep, too preoccupied filling your head with duties of the day ahead. And it’s nights like this you’ve noticed that prince Aemond leaves the urgent late-night meetings of the council around the same hour.

It’s a ritual at this point. A ritual that you’ve grown to be quite fond of. You would rather die than admit it, of course, but it thrills you knowing that Aemond passes by your corridor to head to his before calling it a day. What started as a way to ease your mind, ended up being the reason you stay awake in the first place.

And it always goes like this: you trade barbs — sharp words laced with deeper meanings that neither of you dare to confront outright. It’s strange how easy it is to exchange insults when it’s clear that you both have cultivated something more than feigned animosity. You can see it in the prince’s intent gaze as well, he knows too.

You are not of Targaryen blood, not a dragon-rider, as exciting as that would’ve have been. Your father, a highborn lord, has served as Hand of the King for as long as you can remember. Thus, you found yourself living at the Red Keep from a young age, allowed to weave yourself into its intrigues. However, as safe as it might be, it does not shield you from the most dangerous flame of all—Aemond Targaryen. Not that you need it to, anyway.

You meet him at the entrance of the library this time. His silver hair gleams even in the dim light, and as he spots you, his single eye narrows.

“Ah,” Aemond drawls, his voice smooth and taunting, “…here to read something above your station?”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the slight tug at your lips. “Maybe. Shouldn’t you be stabbing something? Since your reading skills are questionable…”

His lips curve into something that could almost be a smile, but it’s too sharp, too full of challenge. “I save my blades for those who warrant it. You’ve never been important enough to see any of it.”

You scoff, stepping closer to him, close enough to see the flicker of amusement in his eye. “No? And here I thought I kept you awake at night, my prince.” The word drips from your lips with a mockery that only you can get away with—well, almost.

Aemond's jaw tightens for a fraction of a second, and you see the fire ignite behind his composed mask. He steps towards you, and for a split second, you think he might actually close the distance. His face is so close to yours now, his scent—a mix of leather and smoke—filling the space between you.

“You think far too highly of yourself,” he murmurs, his voice low. “Tell me, what could you possibly do to keep me awake?”

Your heart pounds in your chest, a rhythm that slightly betrays the composed expression you’re trying so hard to maintain. His eye flickers to your lips, and for a moment, just a mere heartbeat, the air between you burns with a heat that neither of you wants to openly embrace. And though fierce, you’re no stranger to its burning. You both always keep a safe distance behind the heated stares and dance of words.

The tension is broken as quickly as it comes. You can’t let it overcome you, not yet at least. If someone is to break first, let it be him. You will never be merciful enough to give him the satisfaction of victory. So, you take a step away with a smirk, your pulse still racing.

“One day, you shall find out, in case you are not aware of it already, that is…” you manage to reply before walking away, your heart still racing in your chest.

ii.

A few days later, you find yourself in the training yard, watching with interest as Aemond spars with Ser Criston. His movements are precise, deadly. He’s all grace and fire, every swing of his sword like pure poetry. And you hate that you notice it, you hate that you can’t take your eyes off him. You hate the way his presence is enough to hypnotize you.

As if sensing your gaze, Aemond looks over mid-swing and meets your eyes. You raise an eyebrow, trying not to smile. “Missed a step there, prince.”

Aemond's lips twitch into that infuriating yet attractive smirk again. “If you think you could do better, you’re welcome to try. Though, I imagine your skill in combat matches your intellect—woefully lacking.”

You glare at him, and without giving it a second thought, you step into the training yard. “Hand me a sword and we’ll see. Unless you're too frightened to be bested by someone woefully lacking.”

Ser Criston senses the tension between you two and with a hesitant nod your way, he steps aside, giving you a wooden practice sword. You barely have time to grip the hilt before Aemond lunges, his speed catching you off-guard. But you recover quickly, deflecting his blow with a sharp clang. The impact rattles through your arm, but you don’t falter.

“Careful, my prince,” you hiss, your face inches from his, “if you lose, they might start calling you the one-eyed fool.”

His eye blazes as you trade blows, the clang of metal echoing through the yard. It’s not the most graceful fight you’ve ever had, but it’s the most exhilarating. The air around you is electric, charged with the tension of every unspoken word, every look, every insult you’ve ever thrown at each other.

Aemond’s sword swings wide, and you duck beneath it, twisting to bring your own blade up to meet his. His arm catches yours, and suddenly, you’re chest to chest, your breaths coming fast as your swords clatter to the ground.

“Call me a fool again, and I’ll—” he growls, his breath hot against your face, but the words are swallowed by the closeness of your bodies, the overwhelming pull between you.

For a few moments, neither of you moves. His gaze drops to your lips again, and this time, it’s harder to ignore the fire blazing between you. But before either of you can cross that final line, you shove him back with a scowl.

He cannot win.

“Get over yourself,” you mutter, turning on your heel before you can give in to the storm inside you.

iii.

The night before Aemond is to leave to deal with some unrest in the Riverlands, you find him alone in the godswood. The moon casts a pale glow over his features, making him look even more breathtaking, as if that’s somehow possible.

“I see you’re brooding as always,” you say, crossing your arms as you approach him.

“And you’re still insufferable,” Aemond replies without looking at you.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the pang in your chest. “You’re leaving.”

“It’s only a mission,” he says, his voice cool. “Don’t tell me you’ll miss me.”

“Hardly,” you scoff, though your heart says otherwise. “I just want to be here when you inevitably return defeated. Then I can gloat properly.”

Then, Aemond turns to you, his eye burning with something you don’t quite understand. “You’ve always talked too much.”

“And you’ve always been an arrogant ass.”

His lips quirk into a smirk. “Perhaps. But you like it.”

Before you can hurl another retort, Aemond closes the distance between you. His hand finds your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. Your breath catches as his lips crash against yours, fierce and consuming. It’s as if every unspoken word, every insult, every stolen glance suppressed over the years is poured into that kiss.

And you let yourself fall. You fall for the way his hand is resting on your burning skin. You fall for the way his lips move in perfect sync with yours. You fall for how good he tastes, for how good he makes you feel when you go back and forth each time.

When he pulls away, you’re both breathing hard, your heart beating hard in your chest. “Be careful,” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Aemond's expression softens. “I always am.”

And with that, he turns and walks away, leaving you and your glistening lips already anticipating for the next time.

In a way, Aemond Targaryen has won.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Command Me 1/2

knight!benji blackwood x strong!fem!reader //

oc!brandon stark x strong!fem!reader

Summary: Your mother thinks it’s best you marry sooner rather than later and betrothes you to a man you’ve never met from the north. The only say you have in your life at the moment is picking out a sworn protector. Your marriage leaves you unhappy and unfulfilled and Benji has no problem helping in anyway he can. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, mentions of murder, arranged marriage, wine, age gap, marriage duties, unhappy marriage, moon tea, cheating, oral(f receiving), p in v, bit angsty ngl

Authors Note: request from @chainsawsangel, no explicit detail of oc!stark and y/n intimate moments

Word Count: 5.4k

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

My ears start ringing as my mother’s words start to float around my head. I focus on my breathing as I feel like I’m gasping for air. The council members nod around the table as I can hear the blood pumping throughout my body. She places her hand on mine and looks to me expectantly. 

“What?” I shake my head confused. 

“I asked if you wanted to travel back with Cregan to meet your betrothed.” she says with a smile that tells me I’ll have a scolding later. 

“Absolutely not.” I take my hand from hers and place it in my lap. 

“That is fine, Princess. My uncle won’t mind coming down here for you.” he offers me a smile that doesn’t seem genuine. 

“He shouldn’t since he’s my king consort.” I scoff. 

“Y/n.” my mothers tone low and warning. 

“I await his arrival in anticipation, my Lord.” I nod my head and push my chair back against the stone. If looks could kill my mother would have me stringed up against the council chamber walls. I walk out of the hall and practically start sprinting out of the castle. 

“Princess!” guards shout after me as I take a horse from the courtyard and gallop into the city. The city folk move out of my way as I race to the pits. I abandon the horse outside and call for the dragon keepers to wake my dragon. The ground begins to shutter as my dragon emerges. 

“Hello my handsome boy.” I coo as he pushes into me. I admire his black scales that simmer the brightest lilac in the sun and begin to mount. Once my clips are in place he’s running us out of the pit as we both share the sentiment to get out of this city. As we fly over Kings Landing my dragon gives a fearsome cry and we shoot off to the Kings Wood. 

The breeze flows through my hair and I finally feel some relief. I lean down and hug my dragon as he offers me a deep rumble. I beat my mother by two years for youngest dragon rider. I was five when I first mounted him and he brought us about the city giving high pitched screeches at the common folk. Ever since then we would disappear for a week or more to just fly and explore.

She would send countless parties in search of me but we quickly found caves that would keep us hidden. She’s learned where I go now so I decide to just stick to the Kings Wood to avoid the yelling I’m sure to receive. We land in the cover of the tree canopies by the lake and sprawl out in the sun. I rest my head on his tail as he buries his head into the tall grass scaring away the mice and bugs. 

“I can’t believe she would marry me off to some old northerner.” I sigh looking up at the clouds. My dragon offers me a deep chuff. 

I hear the high pitched dragon call before I see him. As Caraxes comes into view I sigh at her sending him. She knows that we butt heads like bulls so I’m not sure what she’s expecting from this. Daemon lands and begins to walk over to me and my dragon raises his head and bares his teeth. 

“Relax, mother would kill me.” I pat my dragons thigh chuckling and look to Daemon expectantly. 

“Sometimes I wonder how you’re not my child.” he chuckles as he approaches. 

“I don’t know why you would think that. You never raised me and still don’t.” I look up to him from the ground intent on staying where I am. 

“Fair enough,” he sits on the ground and looks to me with a taunting smile. 

“What?” I snap sitting up. 

“Your mother wants you back at the Keep. She wants you to pick out a sworn protector for yourself.” he studies me as I roll my eyes. 

“As if I’ll have a choice in the matter.” I push myself up and my dragon rises behind me. I mount him and leave Daemon behind at the lake. When I land back at the pits my mother is there waiting for me with a furrowed brow. The carriage ride back to the Keep is silent and when we stop in the inner courtyard I try to run off to my chambers but she stops me. 

“What’s wrong?” she searches my eyes. 

“I don’t want to marry some second son from the north who I’ve never met and you think allowing me to pick a sworn protector will fix that?” I rise my hands at a loss. 

“Into the Keep now.” she says lowly and I see the eyes on us from around the grounds. She brings us into her solar and I huff sitting on the couch. 

“You remind me so much of my younger self.” she hums with a soft smile. 

“Mm,” I nod my head wanting to be back with my dragon or in my chambers. 

“You may find love with Brandon.” my mother tries to hide her wince. 

“So that’s his name. How bland. Brandon the Bland I should call him.” I groan throwing my head back against the couch. 

“Y/n I worked hard to make this match. You will treat him with respect. He comes from an honorable and noble house.” her voice starts rising. 

“I don’t care if he’s noble,” I shake my head angry. “I don’t know him, I don’t want him,” I feel tears start forming and I wipe them away frustrated with the world.

“Sweet girl,” 

“Don’t sweet girl me.” I rise from the couch. “I’m tempted to get in my dragon and flee to where you’ll never find me.” I run out of her chambers and straight into Jace. I push him back and he calls after me. 

I seal myself in my chambers and let my tears flow freely. I don’t care about a husband or a sworn protector. I don’t care about the crown or ruling. I hear the whispers everyday about who my father is and how dark my hair is. I don’t want to be ridiculed for the entirety of my rule especially with some man who doesn’t even know me. 

“I’m not here to baby you. Get up and let’s go.” Daemons voice comes from the other side of the door. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” I yell back through the wood. He pushes the door open harshly and grabs my arm pulling me with him. 

“Your mother has been inviting these knights here for well over a moon. You will not embarrass her.” he says through his teeth pulling me down the stairs. I start to push and hit his hand off as the servants in the hall advert their eyes from our spat. We stumble down the rest of the stairs and we stare at each other waiting to see what the other does. I go to pull my arm back and he pulls me closer with a scowl on his face. 

“Get the fuck off of me.” I spit out at him. 

“You’re causing a scene.” he tugs me along to the hall and as we enter all of the knights turn to look at me. I push Daemon off of me and look over the men before me with a raised chin and a death glare. 

“Leave.” I wave off Daemon and the men before me look at the ground as if it’s the most interesting. 

“Step forward if you’re from Kings Landing or the Queens guard.” I hum and a handful of men step forward. “You are dismissed.” I nod them to the door and they look at me with their mouth agape and I look at the five remaining men. 

“If you are from the north step forward.” two men slowly step forward. “You are dismissed.” I look over them unamused. 

“You three are the only remaining.” I offer them a serpentine smile. “Tell me why I should choose you.” I take a seat and watch them look at me. 

“I am a Dornish Swordsman and trained along side Ser Criston-“ 

“A mistake. You are dismissed.” I wave him off and place my head in my hand bored. “Next.”

“Princess,” the man older than Daemon nods his head. “I trained this young man here. He was recently knighted and easily my best student. Anything and everything he knows, I taught him.” he sounds proud. 

“So the most obvious choice is him then? You’re old and withering and he’s young,” I look over the man next to him who only seems to be a handful of years older than me. “Did you even come here to try for a place as my sworn protector?” I look over the old man. 

“I- Princess, I’m-“ 

“Enough,” I wave him off. “You’re dismissed.” 

I turn my head back to the man in front of me and tilt my head. I study him with squinted eyes and can see that he has the muscle required for this job. He’s easy on the eyes which will be a welcome reprieve if my betrothed isn’t. He stands with a puffed out chest and confidence pouring off of him and I rise and walk in front of him. I look up to him and he nods his head down to me. 

“Tell me your name.” I look into his eyes and smile when I see no fear. 

“Ser Benjicot Blackwood.” his voice flows through my ears like honey. 

“Mm a Riverman,” I smile. “I’ve had some great times in taverns outside Raventree Hall when I was on the run.” I chuckle thinking back. 

“On the run from what, my Princess?” he offers me a soft smile. 

“My life and duties.” I shrug. “It looks like you’re the last knight standing Benji.” his spine straightens at the name. 

“It seems that I am.” he nods chewing his lip, the only sign that he has some nerves about being dismissed. 

“Then you shall be my new sworn protector.” a smile pulls across my face as his shoulders relax and he returns my smile. 

“Y/n,” my mother bursts into the hall in a rampage. 

“I’ve chosen Benji.” I turn to her with a smile and she looks him over. 

“You didn’t even give the other men a chance.” she seethes. “Why must everything be like this with you?” she sighs shaking her head. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Today is the day Brandon gets to Kings Landing and I try to convince the maester I’m sick and can’t meet him. He knows my antics and deems me healthy. I’m being tied into a gown as pins are being stuck into my head holding my braids in place. I kick my handmaidens out after hours saying I just needed a moment to myself and I’ll be down shortly. 

“Are you ready, Princess?” Benjis voice comes through my doors. 

“Can you come in?” my voice soft and he slips into my chambers leaving the door open. 

“What can I do for you, Princess?” he looks over my dress and I see him swallow before his eyes make his way to mine. 

“Did you see him?” my voice hushed. 

“I did.” he nods standing up straighter. 

“Do you think he’s handsome?” I pick at my nails. 

“I don’t know how to answer that.” he says clearing his throat. 

“Benji,” I whine. “It’s simple. Does he look old and decrepit or does he look like you?” his eyes snap to mine and I smirk at him. 

“Your betrothed is waiting for you, Princess.” he turns to walk out of my chambers and I sigh and walk to his side. 

As we make our way down to the main hall I groan and drag my feet. Benji chuckles and slows his pace to stay with me. Over the past moon I’m thankful everyday to this man for traveling here to become my sworn protector. He jokes with me and keeps me company. He is also handsome which I never cease to remind him as his cheeks tint. 

“If I asked you to kill my betrothed would you?” I whisper to Benji. 

“It is my duty to do anything you ask of me.” he nods his head and I smile. 

As we walk into the hall my stomach drops as my eyes land on Brandon. My mother can’t possibly be serious. This man has to have almost two decades on me. I find my mother and I scrunch my eyebrows at her and begin walking to her. 

“Princess,” a gruff voice stops my feet as I turn to Brandon who is looking over my body like a starved man. I step back into Benji and he steadies me. 

“You’re Brandon I presume?” I raise my eyebrow looking up to him. 

“I am.” he grabs my hand much to my horror and places a wet kiss on it. 

“How kind.” I hope my disgust isn’t written over my face. 

“Y/n,” my mother’s worried voice calls me over to her side and I’m practically sprinting to her. 

“I would rather die than marry that man.” I hiss to my mother. 

“That’s enough. You will be married by the end of this moon and that’s final.” I feel so stuck and I turn and see that Brandon is walking back over here. 

“Could I offer you a walk through the gardens, Princess?” Brandon offers me his and I stare at it and look to my mother who nods encouragingly. 

“Sure,” I sigh. “Benji let’s go.” I nod my head for him to follow. 

“Your dog doesn’t need to come with.” Brandon chuckles and I cement my feet. 

“He is not my dog. You will treat my sworn protector with respect or I’ll have him take your tongue.” I look over Brandon who is smiling. 

“Feisty, I like it.” he smiles grabbing my arm and tugging me out of the hall. 

It takes all of my strength not to rip my arm out of his hand. I lead us to the gardens and the silence is anything but comfortable. I look at Brandon out of the corner of my eye and see his years written on his wrinkled forehead. I shiver of disgust runs through me as we enter the gardens. He leads us to the nearest table and sits down and I take a place across from him. 

“You are more beautiful than Cregan lead on.” he hums licking his lips. 

“Did he say anything else?” I drawl looking him over. 

“That I would probably have to wear you down a bit but that’s not an issue, I have great stamina.” he winks at me and I know there’s no hiding the horror on my face. “Mm tell me, do you still have your maidenhead?” his smile makes me feel disgusting. 

“Is that anyway to speak to a Princess?” Benjis voice just short of a growl. 

“She’s to be my wife, boy.” Brandon looks over him and turns his eyes back to me. “Well do you or are you sullied?” 

“I do.” my voice barely a whisper as I feel my cheeks heat. 

“There’s one plus.” he leans back in his seat and looks me over. “I thought you Targaryens were supposed to have silver hair?” he tilts his head. 

“The Gods are mysterious.” I clench my jaw. How could my mother do this to me? I know I wasn’t the easiest child to raise but she can’t possibly think I will be willing to wed this man. My heart starts to beat rapidly and I’m getting overwhelmed. 

“What’s wrong with you now?” Brandon narrows his eyes at me. 

“Benji can you take me to the maester? I feel faint.” I reach for his arm and he’s bending down and helping me to my feet instantly. 

“What’s wrong?” Benjis voice is rushed as he searches my face. 

“I’m hot and I just can’t breathe.” I all but gasp as we make it into the Keep. 

“Just a bit further, Y/n.” he keeps a steady hand around my waist and on out for me to hold on to. 

“Thank you, Benji.” I sigh in relief as we make it to the maesters chambers. 

“Princess what’s wrong?” the maester helps me lay on the bed. 

“She said she’s overheating and her breathing was heavy.” Benji says brushing my hair back. 

“Were you doing something strenuous?” the maester asks as he fills me a glass of water. 

“No, I was just-“ 

“What’s happened?” my mother bursts into the room. 

“Mother,” my voice breaks as I reach out to her. “Please, don’t make me, please,” I start crying and Benji and the maester look worried. 

“What do you mean sweet girl?” she shushes me kneeling at my side. 

“I’ll be better,” I hiccup. “Don’t make me marry that old man, please, mother.” a tear slips down my cheek. 

“Leave us.” she waves her hand at Benji and the maester who are shutting the door behind them quickly. “What possibly could’ve happened?” she sits back looking over my state. 

“He made remarks about bedding me and he made remarks about who my father was.” I sit up looking to her with pleading eyes. “Mother please,” I feel the tears start to well up. 

“Just give it a chance. Maybe he was just excited to see such a beautiful young woman.” she offers me a smile and I sigh knowing I don’t have a choice. 

“I will keep Benji with me. I don’t want to be alone with Brandon.” I shake my head furrowing my brows. 

“Of course you two shouldn’t be alone before you wed.” she nods her head. 

“I don’t want to wed him mother, please.” my voice breaking again as I continue to plead.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It feels as if there are rocks in my stomach as I’m twirled around the dance floor. Brandon pulls me back against him and dips down to my ear. His tongue trails along the outer shell and I try to pull back but he holds me firm. When he lifts his head he chuckles at my red cheeks and the crowd claps as our dance ends. 

“Go get a drink and stop being so uptight.” I slip into the crowd trying to keep a smile pinned on my face as I head to find wine. Gods know I’ll need it for tonight. I can’t believe my mother made me go through with this. 

The servant offers me a fresh glass and congratulations on my marriage and I smile and nod. I walk to the outskirts of the crowd and try to calm my nerves. I focus on my breathing and let the hall and celebrations fade away. 

“I wanted to tell you that you look absolutely divine, Princess. I know it’s not my place but I needed to tell you.” Benjis voice is barely a whisper as I turn to him. 

“I wish I wed you tonight.” I feel the tears form and ready to fall. 

“Princess,” Benjis voice strained. 

“I know,” I shake my head wiping my eyes. “Just don’t leave me, please.” my eyes pleading. 

“Anything you ask.” he nods his head. “I am sworn to you.” 

“Thank you.” I finish my glass of wine and head back over to Brandon. 

“Feeling better?” Brandon pulls me against him.

“Much.” I smile trying to pretend I’m not repulsed at his touch. 

“The Princess and I will retire for the night.” he announces loudly and there are rowdy cheers that follow. I feel like my legs are about to give out as he starts to pull me off the dais. I search frantically around the hall for Benji even though I know he can’t stop what’s to come. 

“I’ll escort you both.” Benji comes behind us as Brandon chuckles. 

“Do you expect to witness the act itself too, boy?” Brandon roars out a laugh. 

“No.” I say quickly. 

“Embarrassed, my innocent wife?” I feel my cheeks heat and I bite my tongue deciding to stay silent. We stop outside of his chambers and he pulls me inside sealing the door leaving Benji on the other side. 

I knew what tonight was going to entail but I had hoped he would’ve been more kind and caring of my needs and wants. I performed my duty as best as I could but it didn’t make it any more enjoyable or less painful. He pulls me up from the bed and pushes me out of his doors leaving me in the halls in my slip holding my wedding dress. I look down at the stone floor as it cools my bare feet. 

“Princess?” Benjis voice is soft as he stands in front of me. 

“Can you please take me back to my chambers?” I whisper continuing to look down. 

He pulls his cape off and wraps it around me. I drop my wedding gown outside Brandon’s chambers as I cling to the cape. As we start up the stairs I wince at the pain between my thighs. We make it to my chambers and a sob of relief bubbles out of me. I turn towards Benji to thank him and see that his jaw is set and he looks ready to murder someone. 

“I need you to command me to stay right here. In this exact spot. Or I will walk down those stairs and make you a widow.” I can feel his temper rising around us and I’m tempted to let him make me a widow this very second but this isn’t a decision to be made in haste.

“I need you here with me. I need you to find a servant to bring me water for a bath and I need you to do something with discretion.” my voice hushed as I look around the halls. 

“Anything.” he nods his head searching my eyes. 

“Go to the maester. Offer him good coin for his silence. Say you had a lapse in judgment and slept with a maid and you need moon tea. Please Benji, I can’t have his child.” I beg. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Brandon pushes me outside of his chambers again and I see Benji clenching his fists. He falls into step beside me as we walk silently back to my chambers. I gave up on wearing slippers to his chambers because the cool stone on the walk back helps ground me. This has been happening once every fortnight for the past three moons and I either have Benji or my personal handmaiden retrieve my moon tea. 

“I’ll be back with the tea.” Benji says lowly leaving me at my chamber doors. 

“Benji I don’t need,” I stutter. “He made me suck-“ I shake my head feeling my cheeks burn and I hear him deeply inhale. 

“Princess,” his voice like gravel as his eyes slide to mine. 

“Can you just come in with me?” my voice barely audible as I hold my door open. He sighs and follows allowing the door to shut behind us. 

“What can I do for you?” he stands at my doors back ridged. 

“I just need you to be here with me,” I sit and he claims the chair furthest from me. “Do you find me repulsive now that I’m sullied?” I don’t mean for my words to sound as pathetic as they do. 

“I could never find you repulsive.” he replies quickly. “I think you’re the most ethereal being I’ve ever met.” his voice laced with reverence. 

“Why do you think my husband wants to cause me so much pain? Or is that how it’s supposed to feel? I don’t have anyone to talk to.” I fidget my fingers and hear his sharp inhale. 

“It wouldn’t hurt if he was worshiping you properly. He’s a fool he should have his face buried,” he stops himself and finds his composure. “I’m sorry, please forgive my words Princess.” 

“The only place his face is buried is my neck as he ruts into me. I used to try to think of someone else in hopes that it would make it more pleasurable but when that didn’t help I just learned to keep my eyes squeezed shut and toss out a couple fake moans.” I should feel embarrassed to be divulging this to Benji but it feels so relieving to talk to someone about it. 

“He should be able to tell the difference.” he shakes his head as I see his knuckles turning white from his grip on the chair. 

“I don’t know I can be convincing.” I allow myself to chuckle.  “Yeah, so good,” I moan followed by a whimper and I burst out in giggles as Benjis head snaps up to me. 

“Has he made you come?” his dark eyes search my face. 

“No.” I shake my head as my blush revives on my neck. “He just uses me and throws me out of his chambers. I could live with it if I at least got that relief but I just get to walk back to my chambers and go to bed.” I sigh leaning back in the chair. 

“Can I, I want to,” he bites his lip turning away. “I should let you rest for the night.” he starts to stand. 

“Say it.” I nod my head prompting him. 

“Can I make you come?” my heart skips at his words and I nod my head quickly. “I need to hear you say it.” his voice wrecked. 

“Can you please make me come, Benji?” I bat my eyelashes at him. He rises from the chair and stalks over to me. He towers over me before he kneels before me and begins to trail his hands up my legs spreading them. My cheeks burn as my core is exposed to his face and he looks up to me with hooded eyes. 

“Has he ever kissed you here before?” he asks propping my legs on his shoulders. 

“No,” I shake my head gasping at the coolness of his metal armor on my calves. 

“May I?” he looks up to me as he places soft kisses on the inside of my thighs. 

“Please Benji,” I reply breathlessly. 

He licks up my slit and my chest heaves. His tongue circles my neglected bud and I push my hips into his mouth. Whimpers pour from my mouth as he pulls me flush against his face. He moans into my center as my hips grind against him. I brush against his nose and I moan loudly burying my hand in his hair holding him close. I continue to buck against him as he laps at me. 

“Benji, I-“ I sob as pleasure washes over me and his tongue continues to work me through it. He pulls back and looks up to me with a smile on his face. 

“Those moans sounded nothing like what you did before.” his words laced with confidence. 

“I want to come again.” I say still trying to catch my breath. 

“As you command, Princess.” he dips back between my legs. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Benji is walking me back to my chambers after a particularly rough night with Brandon. I’m starting to loathe my husband more than I thought possible. Benji follows me into my chambers and seals the doors behind us. 

“Your handmaiden should be back with the tea shortly.” he sits on a chair in front of me trying to gauge my emotions. 

“Would you still kill him if I asked?” I look up to him and he nods. 

“Just say the word.” he searches my eyes. 

“Maybe we use poison or something so they won’t know it’s you.” I nibble on my lip trying to come up with a plan. 

“It’d have to be one that would make him suffer. He doesn’t deserve an easy way out.” he shakes his head working himself up. 

“Your devotion never ceases to amaze me.” I look to him and stand as there’s a soft knock at my door. “Thank you.” I smile at my handmaiden and click the door shut once again. I drain the contents of the cup and join Benji on the chairs again. 

“When do you want him dead?” his tone low as he watches my slip rise up. 

“As soon as possible. I can’t take it anymore.” I sigh stretching. “You can say no because I know where I just came from but can you make me feel good Benji? I want to forget everything.” I slide my eyes to him. 

“I will always want you.” he starts to rise from his chair. 

“I need you, Benji. Show me how good it can feel.” I plead as I pull him over to the bed. 

We start to remove his armor and when I finally lift off his shirt and feel his bare chest I groan. He pulls my slip above my head and leaves me bare before him. He pulls me into a kiss and I melt into him as our chests mold together. I unlace his trousers and he begins to kick them off. We fall back onto the bed and I feel his hardness pressed against my leg. I buck against him waiting for him to push into me. 

“There’s no rush, I’m taking my time with you.” he kisses down my neck and between my breasts. He licks across them and sucks a nipple into his mouth. I gasp as he swirls his tongue around my hardened peak and my nails hold onto his back. He chuckles and moves the next to offer it the same attention. 

“Benji,” I gasp as he grazes his teeth across my nipple before pulling up. 

“There’s a lot of pleasure I can show you, Princess.” he kisses down my navel and I buck my hips in anticipation. “Do you wanna come?” he chuckles pressing my hips into the bed. 

“Please Benji,” I cry out as his lips attach to my bud. 

As he circles his tongue I feel his fingers glide through my wetness and I squirm. He slips two fingers into my core and I whine squeezing my thighs around his head. When he curls his fingers I feel my high building in my lower stomach. My whines become more high pitched the faster he pumps his fingers. 

“Benji right there, yes,” I gasp as I come undone. He slowly comes back up my body trailing soft kisses. “I need you in me.” I wrap my legs around his waist. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop at any point.” his eyes look to mine and I nod kissing him softly. 

He slowly pushes in and I whimper at his stretch. He slowly rocks his hips into me as I mewl clinging to him. He rolls his hips and a broken moan falls from my lips. The difference is absolutely mind blowing. The pleasure he is pulling from my body has me feeling as if I’m flying through the sky. 

“How does it feel, Princess?” Benji rasps as I clench around him. 

“I’m so full of you, Benji.” I gasp holding him closer. He starts to pump into me at a quicker pace and my eyes roll back. His fingers find my throbbing bud causing his name to fall from my lips like a prayer. I pulse around him losing myself to my pleasure and I feel him begin to fill me. He slides out of me and pulls me against his chest kissing my face and smoothing my hair. I feel safe and loved in his arms.

“I’m gunna kill your husband tomorrow.” he promises as he rests his forehead on mine. 

“Thank you, Benji.” I capture his lips as we get lost in each other once more. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

Part Two

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @callsignwidow @gabriella-aesthetic @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n