#corlys velaryon when i catch you….

[tqwnw]

[thedeadestdove]

Baela and Rhaena Targaryen with the only relatives that ACTUALLY care for them besides their late mother, Laena Velaryon.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

More Beautiful Than the Stars

addam velaryon x targ!fem!reader

Summary: After the war Rhaenyra has you enter a strategic marriage. You were unsure at first but quickly fell for your betrothed. After a moon of courting you two cannot wait to be wed. 

Warnings: 18+ wine, mentions of death from the war, arranged betrothal, oral (f receiving), p in v, proof read like 95%

Authors Note: i was late to work bc i wanted to keep writing this :))

Word Count: 6.8k anyways 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

In the wake of the war we’ve lost many who were in high positions of power and authority. Lesser Lords and Lady’s have been granted new lands and titles helping strengthen the loyalty to my mother. What took everyone by surprise was when she offered Driftmark to Addam Velaryon. 

The house seat should’ve passed to one of my brothers should they have lived. Addams elder brother refused due to resentment of Corlys. I can’t blame him for his feelings, if I was in his position I would have felt the same. Addam on the other hand wanted the recognition and the title. He served my mother well and faithfully even when Corlys did not. 

I think my mother sees a lot of Leanor in him. He has a gentle and kind spirit who is very laid back but fiercely protective. I’ve never had much interaction with him since we met right before the war. I did admire him for his bravery to flying to war in the name of my mother on dragonback. Now I’m watching his eyes water as my mother offers him Driftmark and all the comes with it. 

“Your Grace, I am honored.” Addam bows his head deeply and goes to his knee. 

“Rise, Addam, Lord of the Tides.” Rhaenyra smiles pulling him up to his feet. 

“I don’t know what to say.” he shakes his head as a smile spreads across his face. 

“Say yes, and become my master of ships.” she hums as he shakes his head in disbelief. 

“I will serve you well and faithfully. I am yours to command.” he nods and she dismisses him from the council chambers. 

“That was very generous,” I hum nodding my head to her. 

“I have one more thing to offer him.” she nibbles on her lip looking to me. 

“What more could you offer him?” I tilt my head. 

“A wife.” I shake my head in confusion. 

“I didn’t think you were so eager to marry again?” I study her face. 

“Not me, my sweet girl.” she reaches across the table to hold my hand. 

“Who?” my heart starts to race as I fear I know her answer. 

“You.” I feel my heart drop. 

“Mother, I barely know him.” my voice cracks. 

“You’ll get to know him. You’ll stay with him on Driftmark for a moon and then you will marry. I need you to do this for me. I need you there making sure he remains loyal.” her eyes pleading to mine. 

“There’s no one else to contest your throne. Why do you remain so paranoid mother?” I don’t mean to lash out with my words but I never expected her to marry me off. 

“As long as I, a woman, sit the throne there will always be scores of men to contest my birthright.” her eyes harden and she pulls her hand back. 

The chair groans as I push it against the stone and leave the hall. I try to control my breathing as I make it to my chambers. I never thought she would put me into a marriage pact. I knew with the end of the war I would be expected to marry but I didn’t think she would choose for me. 

As I push my chamber doors open I see a half dozen maids packing my bags and trunks. My breath catches at how quickly I’m to leave apparently. I feel like everything is moving so quickly as I just stand idly by. I lay back on my bed and breathe deeply as my maids continue to work. 

“Is there anything I can get you, Princess?” one of them comes to my side. 

“Please just leave me.” I wave my hand at them and they’re scurrying out of my chambers quickly. 

I sigh and turn to burry my face in my pillow. It’s not that I don’t like him, I just don’t know him. The small conversations we have had he’s been nothing but kind and sweet. I groan into the pillow feeling sorry for myself and pouting. I rise from the bed and drag my feet across the stone to finish shoving gowns into my trunks. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

As we enter the docking area I look around at the life buzzing around them. Seasmoke sings out a song over the docks as he dips in and out of the water. Once the boat stops moving I get up and walk to the edge to make it to land again. The rickety ladder won’t pull from the dock and I’m ready to tell them to just turn the boat around. 

“Allow me.” Addams voice trails from the dock and I look him over. 

He pulls on the ladder and it still won’t budge. I look to him with a raised brow as he huffs and looks up to me. He reaches up and I gasp as his hands wrap around my waist as he lifts me down to the docks with him. I steady my feet and tilt my neck to look up to him. 

“Thank you,” I feel my cheeks heat as his smile spreads across his face. 

“Of course, my Princess.” he dips his head down. 

“Y/n will do just fine.” I smooth my skirts as he continues to smile down at me. 

“Come, Y/n. Let me show you to your chambers.” he offers me his arm and I reluctantly accept as he leads me through the docks and people. 

“How fares Driftmark, my Lord?” I ask breaking our silence. 

“It fares better now that a beautiful Targaryen Princess has graced its shores.” I blush at his words and avoid his eyes. “I’m sorry if that was too forward.” he says worriedly. 

“No, my Lord it’s okay.” I shake my head hoping my blush recedes.

“Please, call me Addam.” he hums as we turn and start our way up to the castle. 

My eyes dart around the castle as I take in its beauty. Guards and servants bow their heads to us as we enter. My head tilts up to take in the enormity of the hall and its ceilings. I look across the hall and can see the Blackwater crashing into the stony shore. He leads me up the stairs and looks both ways. 

“I must admit I’m still learning this castle.” he murmurs leading us right. “But I’ll be able to show you the best places in Hull and Spicetown with ease.” he smiles down to me. 

“We shall learn this castle together then.” I offer him a small smile of my own. 

“Here we are.” he stops in front of a large set of double doors with a guard standing sentry. 

“My trunks and bags?” I turn to him. 

“Are being brought up. I will go check on them. I’ll send a servant up to see to it your needs are met while I’m indisposed. Should you need me let your guard know and I will come at once. No matter how small the issue is, I will come.” Addams words a promise as he nods his head to me. I go to turn to slip into my chambers and he grabs my hand and places a soft kiss on it. 

I click my doors shut behind me and pray he didn’t see my cheeks catch on fire. Gods that man is so chivalrous. I look around the chambers and see how massive they truly are. I’m standing in what I assume to be the solar as there’s a large table with chairs and couches spread around a rug. I walk into the next room and gasp as I see the bed. The bed takes up an entire wall with stone pillars jutting up to the ceiling. There’s a small couch in front of a great hearth with fur hanging off the back. I peer through the next set of doors and smile at the sunken pool I have as a bath. I look out to the balcony and dip down to one of the chairs to soak in the salt in the air. 

“Princess,” I hear a woman’s voice come from inside my chambers. “Is there anything I can do for you?” the maid lowers her head. 

“Maybe some wine and a fire.” I ask softly not wanting to be too demanding already. 

“Of course, at once.” she nods her head and is out of the doors before I can even offer her thanks. 

I get up and walk back into the main room as my bags and trunks are trickling in. Maids start to unpack them at once and begin to hang my gowns. The first maid comes back with a glass of wine and a man trailing behind with wood. I thank the woman for the wine and the man who starts my fire. I thank the servants in my room and offer them leave. I wish to unpack myself and set out gowns for my upcoming days. 

I change into a fresh gown and peek out my doors. I close them behind me and the guard goes to follow me. I shake my head saying I’m just staying to the castle. My skirts flow behind me as I start around the corner. I go to turn another corner until I hear a couple of maids talking about Addam. 

“Can you believe he gave her the main chambers?” the first woman’s voice hushed. 

“You sound jealous.” the second woman scolds. 

“Of course I am. He lets her sleep lavish while he goes to the guest chambers. I heard she pouted the whole way here.” my heart beats at the insinuation that he gave away his chambers to me. I care not if they think I pouted, because I probably did.

“She just lost most of her family to war and now she’s being sent away from her remaining family to be wed.” one of them defends me and I decide I like her. 

“How terrible it must be to be a Princess of the realm and be forced to marry a handsome Lord who also rides a dragon.” I can hear the eye roll in her voice and I’ve had enough. 

“Did you watch your family get taken by The Stranger day after day?” I ask turning the corner. “Did you watch your family crumble to the ground around you? Tell me.” I cross my arms looking to her. 

“My Princess, I didn’t mean-“ 

“What did you mean then?” I cut her off narrowing my eyes at her before looking to the other who I recognize as the first woman to bring me wine.

“I just- I I’m sorry.” she lowers her head and scurries down the hall. 

“I’m sorry for her words, my Princess.” she dips her head.

“Thank you for defending me, what is your name?” I hum looking her over. 

“Cyerra, if you wish.” she keeps her head bowed. 

“Cyerra I would be honored if you would be my personal handmaid. I need someone headstrong and loyal and I fear I have no friends here.” my voice hushed as her eyes rise to mine. 

“You honor me.” her voice shakes. “I shall be your friend and anything you need.” she smiles. 

“Thank you, Cyerra.” I smile to match hers. “Does this place have a library?” she smiles even wider and I follow after her as she leads me through the winding stone halls. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

My first week on Driftmark has been going well. Cyerra keeps me company when I’m not roaming the library for a new book. Addam has been very sweet but has had a lot of meetings to deal with due to his new position.

“Do you ever go anywhere else?” Addams voice reverberates off the library walls and I huff and put my book down. 

“I go outside..” I trail off. “Sometimes.” he smiles and takes a seat next to me. 

“The people are curious about you, they wish to meet you.” he says softly as his eyes search mine. 

“What if they don’t like me?” my voice hushed. 

“How could they not?” he scrunches his brows. “Come, let me show you around Hull and maybe if you like it I can take you dancing.” his smile is infectious as I abandon the book and accept his hand as we exit the library.

As we exit the castle I feel as if everyone is staring at me. I lean into Addams side more and he looks down to me to offer me a comforting smile. We walk through the main gates and continue on into the crowd. People stop and talk to him and offer me warm smiles and welcomes. 

“This is where I grew up.” his voice soft as we enter into a different part of town. “It is my wish to focus on and help the people of this island. We may be formidable but we could use help.” he ushers me over to a stall with delicious smelling food. 

He offers the vendor more coin than this stick of meat is worth and hands it to me. I moan as the meat melts into my mouth. I eat another piece before offering him some. He shakes his head and I finish the rest not caring about the juices sliding down my fingers. 

“That was divine.” I lick my lips looking up to him with a smile. 

“Let me show you my favorite.” he smiles grabbing my hand and leading me to another vendor. This time it’s a smoked fish that is well seasoned and smoked. 

“Addam,” I moan as I take another bite. “I fear I’ll eat Hull dry.” I giggle as he wipes the side of my mouth. 

“There’s another delicacy we’re known for, but it’s not everyone’s favorite.” he leads me down the streets closer to the docks. 

I look at the small chopped up raw fish in front of me with vegetables and grains. I sniff it and look at Addam with raised eyebrows. He pops a piece into his mouth and blink at him in surprise. 

“You eat it raw?” my voice full of concern. 

“You’d be surprised at how good it is raw.” he hums bringing a piece to my lips. 

I sigh and accept the fish from his fingers. The texture throws me off but the flavors still burst through my mouth. I chew almost in question as I contemplate if I like it. 

“Not my favorite, but I don’t hate it.” I take another piece to try it some more as he chuckles softly. 

The sun slowly begins to drop behind the horizon as we stop at more vendors and I try new foods and drinks. We walk deeper into the city until we start to hear laughing and music. He pulls me into a tavern and it erupts into cheers as we enter. 

“Lord Addam!” they all cheer and clap as I look up to him admiring his smile. 

“You’ve finally blessed us with a glimpse of your beautiful Princess.” a man approaches and bows deeply to me. 

“That is unnecessary,” I shake my head with a smile. “There’s no need to bow to me.” the man rises with a smirk. 

“You’ve got yourself a sweet one.” he claps Addam on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd. 

“A drink?” Addam smiles down to me and I nod. 

He leads us to the bar hands and encases me with his body placing both of his hands on either side of me on the bar top. I lean back into his chest enjoying the simple protection he’s offering me from the crowd. I don’t even focus on his words to the man and allow myself to shrink into him. 

“Did you hear me?” his voice is low as he dips down to my ear. 

“Hm?” I hum turning my head to him and blush at how close our faces are. 

“I asked if you wanted to go to a table.” I blink up to him still lost. 

He chuckles and grabs both of the cups by their handles in one hand. He turns us and keeps an arm around me as he pulls us to a back corner. He somehow manages to find us an empty table in the back and I take a sip from the cup he places in front of me. It burns as it goes down my throat and warms the entity of my body as I relax back into my seat. 

“What are you thinking about?” he hums from next to me. 

“How I could feel this warming me all the way down to my toes.” I raise my cup to him with a smile. 

“If you ever wish for me to help warm you up, just say the word.” his words playful. 

“Addam,” I gasp as my cheeks heat. 

“I jest,” he jokes but I can see the seriousness in his eyes. “I’ll get you hot enough when we dance you’ll be asking me to help cool you down.” his smirk is downright devious. 

“Is this your attempt to get me out of my gown before we wed?” a smile plays at my lips. 

“Is it working?” he licks his lips as he looks to mine as I tilt my head up to him before rising to meet his face. 

“Not in the slightest.” I kiss his nose and sit back down. 

“I don’t mind waiting.” he chuckles taking a sip from his cup. 

We drain our cups continuously teasing one another. I’m in a fit of giggles at his words when the music gets louder and starts to thrum through me. I look to the moving bodies and turn back to Addam. 

“I want to dance.” I pout my lips to him. 

He rises and pulls me up by both of my hands. Giggles spill from my mouth at my uneven feet and he’s quick to steady me. He shakes his head looking at me with lowered lids as he brings us to the moving bodies. His hands go to my waist and pull me close. I sigh resting my head against his chest as we begin to sway to the music. My hands roam across his back fueled by liquid courage. 

We dance and hold each other as if we’re the only people in this building. His hands squeeze at my hips every now and then reminding me of his delicious strength. We slowly pull apart and we take in each other’s heavy breathing. 

“It’s late, let me take you back to the castle.” he says lowly and I nod my head not trusting my voice. 

He gets us back to the castle in impressive time and is helping me navigate the stairs as I’m still on uneven feet. I giggle when he gives up guiding me and simply tosses me over his shoulder. His hands hold on at the back of my thighs and I squirm in his arms. He sets me down in front of my doors and looks down to me with a lazy smile. 

“The maids said you gave me your chambers.” I look up to him. 

“So what if I did?” he bites his lip. 

“You didn’t have to.” I murmur. 

“I’ll be moving back in soon enough,” he places a kiss on my forehead and opens the doors for me. He seals the doors shut and leaves me to our large apartments. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

I groan as Cyerra opens the curtains and lets in the early morning light. I kick the blankets off of me and stretch across the bed. She starts to revive the fire to ward off the chill and goes to my wardrobe to find appropriate attire for collecting shells and muscles. 

“Curse Addam for having me wake so early.” I groan wiping my eyes. 

“It’s not so early.” Cyerra chuckles bringing me over a pair of pants and a white billowy shirt. 

“Could you possibly get me some tea?” I rise from the bed stretching once more. 

“Of course, I can always have it brought up in the mornings if you wish.” she offers. 

“No no, that’s too much trouble.” I shake my head grabbing for the pants. 

“It’s not, my Princess. If it makes you happy.” Cyerra nods walking to the door. 

I sigh at how much she waits on me. I slip the pants on and walk around getting used to them. I rarely wear pants and they just feel so different. I pull the shirt over my head and push the sleeves up my arms. I step into my slippers cuffing my pants up and go sprawl on a couch in the solar. 

“Your tea, my Princess.” Addams voice comes into the room as he kneels before me and offers me my tea. 

“Why must everyone insist on waiting on me?” I playfully roll my eyes and accept the tea. 

“What a tragedy.” he shakes his head and sits next to me on the couch. “Are you ready for a day on the shores?” he hums placing my legs in his lap and massaging my calves. 

“I am, but I’m afraid I lack the proper footwear.” I rub my fur lined slippers. 

“Is this you asking me to carry you on the sands?” he leans his head back onto the couch and lets out a laugh at my face. 

“No, I expect a full covered litter with at least ten men carrying me.” I hum sipping my tea. 

“At once,” he chuckles rising and offering me his hand. 

I quickly finish my tea and discard the cup on the table. We’re bounding down the main stairs quickly. Addam pulls me along and soon we’re approaching the shores. We stop on the edge of the sands and he begins to remove his boots. 

“I won’t make you be the only one barefoot.” he tosses his boots to the side and I start to push off my slippers. “Ready?” he pulls me into the warm sand and my toes curl in. 

“It’s so soft and warm.” we continue to pad out to the water. 

Addam pulls me away from the workers so we don’t interrupt their flow. He’s brought a small basket with us to put our collection in. He falls to his knees near the water and waves me over. I look down and thank the Gods I’m wearing black pants before I shrug and kneel next to him. 

“This is where it gets fun.” he smiles and shoves his arms into the sand up to the elbow. When he heaves the sand back up there’s a bunch of muscles that he quickly grabs and tosses into the basket. 

“How do you know where they are?” I tilt my head as he places more shells into the basket. 

“You’ll feel them.” he nods encouragingly. “So hands open and pull up.” I bite my lip as start to emerge my hands into the sand. 

The sand is cold and damp as I plunge my hands in deeper. I don’t feel anything so I push my hands further down until my nose is practically touching the sand. My finger grazes a cold, slimy shell and I yelp pulling my hands out quickly causing me to fall back.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Addam is quickly hovering over me and smiles once he sees I’m laughing. 

“I didn’t know they would be so slimy.” I get out in between giggles as he helps me upright. “Let me try again.” I steady my breathing and plunge back into the sands. I give a small jolt when I feel them and I pull up quickly. 

“Very good.” his smile is genuine as he begins to pick out the shells. 

We dig in the sands for a while longer until we decide to stop and admire the water. We walk around the shore line allowing the water to lick at our heels. We stop and pick up rocks that catch our eye. As I pick up a particularly vibrant one his hands linger on mine as we examine it. As I look up to him I see that he’s staring at me and I blush pulling the rock into my hand. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to drone on.” I say looking down. 

“You weren’t.” my eyes lock to his. “I was just admiring you.” his words are soft as a snails spreads over his features. 

“Mm, and what were you admiring?” I tease pursing my lips. 

“Everything.” his eyes look to my lips before they flick back to mine. 

“Everything?” my tongue licks along my bottom lip and I see his eyes catch the movement. 

“I want to kiss you.” his face moves closer to mine. 

“I want you to kiss me.” he kisses me once the words leave my mouth. He pulls me closer deepening the kiss. My hands hold on to his back as he cups my face. His tongue dances with mine as we melt into one another. He pulls back as we both breathe heavily. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” he offers me a soft smile. “There’s a lot of things I want to do.” his voice low which stirs something low in my stomach. 

“Like what?” my voice still breathless but not from the kiss and he smiles knowing it. 

“You’ll find out soon enough.” he chuckles at my red cheeks. “You seem flushed. Shall we cool down in the water?” he scoops me up and runs us into the waves and I gasp as it splashes on us and he sets me in the water. 

“Addam,” I huff as the cold water seeps through my shirt. I push him back and he falls back into the water laughing loudly. 

“You don’t seem as flushed anymore, my Princess.” he hums as he stays below the water and starts creeping his hands up my sides. “Although, I made your shirt see through and it seems as if you’re too cold now.” he pointedly looks to my chest and I look down seeing my nipples pushing through the wet fabric. 

“Was that your plan?” I look down to him huffing with red cheeks trying to hide the smile on my face. 

“No,” he shakes his head trying to look anywhere but my chest. “You can use mine and hopefully it’ll cover you up a bit more.” he pulls off his shirt quickly and hands it to me. 

“You’re the only one here so I don’t mind.” I push his shirt back in his hands but don’t miss an opportunity to allow my eyes to linger on his muscles. 

“Are you admiring me?” his tone playful as he inches closer. 

“I am.” I nod my head as my hands spread across his toned stomach. “You are very handsome.” I hum as my hands slide up his chest. 

“How long until we’re wed?” Addams voice low as his hands grab mine.

“Just under a fortnight.” I look up to him. 

“Gods give me patience.” he mumbles before pressing his lips softly against mine. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

I lay awake in bed tossing and turning. I kick off the blankets and walk out to the balcony to see if the night air will help. The breeze kisses my heated skin and I sigh out. It’s times like this when I wish I had a dragon of my own to fly under the moonlight. I walk to the door and crack it open. 

“If Addam is awake, could you see if he could come here?” I ask softly. 

He turns the corner and I click the door shut behind me. I sit on the couch in the solar looking to the door waiting. There’s a quick knock and he’s slipping inside the doors. 

“What’s wrong?” he looks around the room and looks me over to make sure I’m unharmed. 

“I couldn’t find sleep.” I chew my lip. “I wanted to know if you could take me for a ride on Seasmoke.” I look up to him as he sighs in relief. 

“It’s cold out.” he looks over my simple night dress. 

“I’m hot.” I bring his hand to my forehead. “If not, could we walk along the shore?” I look up to him with pleading eyes. 

“You will let me at least put you in a cloak.” his lips turn upwards as he leads me back into the bed chambers to my wardrobe. 

“Are you ready to have your bed chambers back?” I ask taking the cloak he hands me. 

“Only two days left.” he hums pulling the cloak around me. 

I trail after him as he takes me to the shores. I try to take off the cloak multiple times but Addam will hear none of it. There’s a low whistle on the wind and Seasmoke lands on the sands in front of us. He walks up quickly and I curl into Addams side. Seasmoke tilts his head as Addam lets out a low chuckle. 

“He is truly more cat than dragon.” he rubs my shoulders trying to soothe me. “You’re going to scare her off.” Addam chides as Seasmoke burrows his snout into the sand huffing. 

“You speak the language well.” I hum watching him walk up to his dragon. 

“That means a lot. Thank you, my Princess.” he rubs Seasmokes neck and he seems to purr. 

Addam waves me over and I slowly walk to him. My hand slips into his as he brings it to rest on Seasmoke. The dragon leans into our touch and gives a soft chuff. Addam walks us over to his wing and nods at me to start climbing. I make my way up to the saddle and I feel Addam following close behind. We settle and Seasmoke has us launching into the skies. 

I lean back into Addam who holds me tightly from behind. Seasmoke circles us around the island and I sigh as the moonlight kisses our skin. The breeze flows through my hair and I close my eyes contented. Addam leans into me as we allow the skies to lull us into a dreamlike state. 

Seasmoke lands us on the barren shores before he shoots himself back into the skies. I slip the cloak off and lay it on the sands. I kneel down and lay back to look up at the stars. He joins me on the cloak and looks over to me. I turn my head with a smile spread across my face. 

“You’re supposed to look at the stars.” I purse my lips. 

“Mm, but I’d much rather look at you.” he turns on his side so he’s fully facing me. “You’re more beautiful than the stars.” he looks at me with pure devotion.

I lean in and press my lips against his. I melt into his touch as he rolls over on top of me. I pull him down to me to reunite our lips once more. I pull around his body trying to get him to press against me but he’s steadfast. I hook my legs around his waist and try to lure him that way but he just chuckles into my mouth as I’m just hanging off of him. 

“Addam,” I whine against his lips. 

“You’re gunna kill me.” he groans dipping down to capture my lips once more. He rolls back over onto his back and I turn over narrowing my eyes at him. “I can feel how hard you’re staring.” his chest moves up and down as he chuckles. 

“Do you not want to touch me?” he rolls his eyes as he turns to me. 

“You know that I want to touch you so very badly.” his voice low as he looks at me with dark eyes. 

“Do you?” I scoot closer to him. 

“Y/n,” his hand goes to my waist, his voice strained as I drape across his chest. 

“I can’t sleep because you’re all I think about at night.” I whisper against his lips. “I work myself up to the point where I get so hot it’s unbearable. It’s why I had you come to me tonight, I couldn’t take it anymore.” my voice barely a whisper as his fingers dig into my sides. 

“Then I’m just going to kiss you as you look at the stars.” he smirks as he flips us over once more. 

“Well how am I going to see the stars your head is in the way.” I giggle before he captures my lips and trails them down to my neck. I gasp as his tongue licks across my throat. 

“I’m gunna kiss you other places if that’s okay?” he pulls back and looks down to me and I nod my head quickly. 

He brings his lips back down to my neck and sucks softly on my pulse. I gasp as my hands grab onto his back. He trails kisses down over my night dress and peppers his lips across my covered breasts as I arch into him. He licks around my hardened nipples before continuing down my navel. I’m panting above him as I watch him move lower. His hands spread my thighs more as he settles between them. 

“Is this okay?” he looks up to me. 

“Yes, please Addam,” I feel my body hum in anticipation. 

He licks up my slit and my head falls back into the sand. My breathing is ragged as he swirls around my throbbing bud. My hips grind against his face as a moan tears through me. His tongue lashes against my bud as my legs shake around him. 

“Addam,” I mewl as he licks down to my core. 

He wraps his arms around my thighs to hold them open as his tongue licks at me feverishly. My hips roll onto his face as they seek pleasure. Whimpers fall from my mouth along with his name as I feel myself about to go over the edge. 

“Yes, please Addam,” I sob as I explode across his tongue. 

He continues to lick at me until my thighs are shaking before he slowly pulls back. He looks down at me licking his lips. His breathing is as equally as ragged as mine and we look to each other. He pulls my night dress back down and sits back. I sit up and squeeze my thighs together still feeling my release. 

“I hope my kisses were to your liking.” he smiles looking over my flushed body. 

“I think I might need kisses every night.” I smile nibbling my lip. 

“Then you shall have them every night.” he chuckles as he stands pulling me up with him and begin to make our way back to the castle. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“You both make such a handsome couple.” Rhaenyra beams at us after the ceremony. 

“Thank you, mother.” I feel my cheeks blush at her words. 

“She pouted the whole week before coming here, you know?” she smiles to Addam who chuckles. 

“Oh, I believe it.” he pulls me into his side. “Look she’s even pouting at our wedding.” he pinches my cheek as I roll my eyes at him. 

“I’m happy for you.” she cups my cheek before she returns to her seat. 

“You look absolutely divine in this gown, my wife.” he whispers into my ear as he leads me to the dance floor. 

He pulls me against him and smiles down at me tenderly. The rest of the hall blurs as we sway around the room together. I rest my head against his chest as I hear his steady heartbeat beneath me. He wraps his arms around me and holds me tightly. I look up to him and he places a soft kiss on my lips. As the slow song comes to an end we continue to hold each other as more couples join us in the next dance.

Throughout the night guests come up to congratulate us and we offer them polite smiles. As the night grows late I begin to get restless wanting to finally get to enjoy my husband. When there’s only a handful of guests left we retire to our chambers for the night. 

“I’m really just excited to have my bed back.” his tone playful as he opens our doors. 

I roll my eyes at him as I brush past him and walk into our bed chambers. I hear the door thud shut and he comes behind me chuckling. He starts to unlace the back of my gown causing it to slide down. I turn to him only left in my slip as he soaks in my body. 

I reach out and start to unbutton his doublet. My fingers make quick work and I’m soon pushing it down his shoulders. He pulls his shirt off quickly and my eyes linger on his muscles. His fingers grip the hem of my slip and he has it over my head in seconds. His hands caress my sides before he cups my breasts. He looks to me as he starts to softly knead them. 

“You’re perfect.” he dips down to kiss me as his fingers brush across my nipples. 

I gasp into his mouth as his fingers offer pleasure to my sensitive peaks. He drinks down my noises as one of his hands travel between my thighs. I whine pulling back as he swirls his fingers slowly around my bud. 

“Addam,” my breath comes out in pants as his fingers coax pleasure through me. 

He dips a finger into my core and a loud moan falls from my mouth. He pumps into me as his thumb starts a rhythm on my bud. I rest my head against his chest as he slips a second finger into me. I cling to his arms as whimpers pour off my lips as he begins to curl his fingers. My legs clamp around his hand as pleasure washes through me with his name on my tongue. 

“Let’s go to the bed.” he hums pulling his hand from between my thighs. 

I make it to the bed on weak legs as he chuckles keeping his hands on my waist. I fall back onto the bed and watch him begin to unlace his pants. I sit up so I can fully appreciate his body. I reach out to him and he begins to crawl over me. 

“You’re sculpted by the Gods, husband.” I pull his lips down to mine. 

His tongue pushes into my mouth as we mend ourselves together. He presses his body against mine and I sigh at the feel of him. His hips roll into mine and I squirm at the feel of his hardened length against me. His tip brushes against my wetness and I buck my hips up. 

“Are you ready?” his breath fans across my chest as he lines himself up at my core. 

“Yes,” I pant watching as he sinks into me. 

My nails dig into his back at the stretch of him. He continues to push into me until he’s fully settled. The feel of him filling me has me gasping. I move my hips slightly and whine at the stretch. My muscles continue to relax around him and soon enough I’m rolling my hips into his waiting for him to move. 

“You just feel so good.” he rasps as he starts to slowly pump into me. When he pushes his hips into mine more rushed my breath catches. “I’m sorry,” he grunts trying to slow his hips. 

“No, faster,” I buck my hips into him whining. 

He groans as he snaps his hips into mine. Moans seep through my mouth as I start to lose myself to my pleasure. I cry out his name as I pulse around him and he groans slowing his movements. His breath comes out in pants as his hips start to move faster again. 

“Yes, yes Addam,” I feel my release coiling once more. 

He finds a rhythm that has me squeezing my eyes shut. The second his thumb brushes against my bud I burst around him. His hips stutter as I feel him begin to fill me. His breath fans across my face as we both try to calm our breathing. I shiver as he pulls out of me and cuddles into my side as my eyes flutter shut. 

“Don’t go to sleep yet, I haven’t given you your goodnight kisses yet.” my thighs clench remembering my request a couple nights ago as he slides down the bed and opens my thighs once more. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

masterlist 🔌 

this got out of hand and i’m not mad abt it

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @callsignwidow @gabriella-aesthetic @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @anaviieiraaa @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @zanygot7straykidsbonk @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @hueanhdang

[bookofbonbon]

Pairings: Aegon II Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader.

Warnings: There's no Aegon in the prologue. It's just world/context building, I suppose you don’t have to read it if you don’t want to lmao. Spelling/grammar errors. Inconsitent tenses.

Summary: As a heavy blown is dealt to Lord Corlys Velaryon leaving him incapacitated, you realise you will have to return to King's Landing for the first time in five years when your nephew's position as heir to Driftmark is called into question.

Word Count: 2.8k+.

Masterlist.

The ground beneath your feet sways gently, a rhythmic to and fro accompanying your every step as you boarded the legendary Sea Snake with three of your own commanders - Eadric, Selyse and Trystane. 

The walk to the captain’s quarters of the Sea Snake is short; Velaryon guards standing at attention as you pass them, led by Velaryon captain and acting admiral, Luceon. 

You wrinkle your nose in distaste at him, Luceon whom you frequently butted heads with. The thought, however, is quickly banished when you enter the room- breath catching in your throat. 

The sight unsettles you, hands flexing and releasing as you looked upon the comatose Lord Corlys Velaryon - if you didn’t know better, you would've thought him dead. 

The room is suspended in silence, tension thick in the air as they all wait with bated breath for you to cut it but, instead, out of habit, your gaze passes quickly over the occupants of the room.

The ship maester, four Velaryon knights, Luceon and one other you don’t know but had heard about - all present in the room and several more Velaryon men aboard the ship and out of your sight. 

Your shoulders pull tensely, hand inconspicuously coming to rest on the pommel of your longsword with a practiced ease that alerts no one. 

You may have been allied and fought side-by-side with these very men for over two years but, it was with Lord Corlys at the helm, who at present was incapacitated and you were severely outnumbered - something your commanders had picked up on as well as they too shifted their stances discreetly, ready to draw at the slightest threat. 

“How did this come to pass?” you question, gaze drawing back to Luceon. “I will have answers.” 

While it was true that you were forced to leave the Stepstones earlier than you would have liked, it did not change the fact that the Stepstones had already been won when you did. 

“A final ambush by the Triarchy, Princess,” the solemn man tells you. “A ship made to look as if it were abandoned.” 

You almost laugh in disbelief, head shaking as the information renders you more confused than you previously were that the Sea Snake would find himself in such a predicament.

“Six years of what has felt like an interminable war and finally, Lord Corlys secures victory only to be felled by what should have been an obvious trap laid by our enemies.” 

A rebuttal is on the tip of Luceon’s tongue but, you’re quicker than he is. 

“I do not wish to hear of what incompetencies led Lord Corlys to pursue such a folly. Not when there are more urgent matters at hand now, such is the current state of him,” you dismiss Luceon and turn to the maester.

“What of Lord Corlys’s health?”

The maester steps forward with a deep bow before he answers.

“Lord Corlys was severely wounded by the dagger of a Corsair before being thrown overboard. He has lost much blood and now battles a blood fever that burns from within.” 

Your stomach drops at the mention of blood fever. You had heard of the dreaded fever before. How it had made victims of even the strongest of men, delivering them swiftly to the Stranger’s door.

“And what of his prognosis?” you ask, fearful. 

The maester hesitates, his head dropping and you’re not sure you want to hear what he has to say. 

“I… cannot say, Princess. We have done all that we can. We can only pray now to the Seven, that the fever breaks before the Stranger comes.”

Uneasiness consumes your being as you cast an anxious glance at your uncle through marriage; his life now hanging in the balance as he teetered the fine line between life and death. 

The thought does not dwell for long however, as a new uneasiness settles within you in the form of Vaemond Velaryon should the Stranger come for Corlys.

Skin pulling impossibly tight around your knuckles, you had no doubt that he would set his sights on Driftmark, likely petitioning the succession if he had reason to believe his brother was on death’s door. 

A petition you had no doubt would be entertained by the Queen Consort and her Lord- Hand father who now sat the Iron Throne more often than that of your own King-father from what you had heard.

You would need to buy yourself time, try to stop the news from reaching Vaemond if word hadn’t already been sent. 

“Who else knows of Lord Corlys’s current state?” 

“I dispatched a raven to Driftmark on the morrow. Princess Rhaenys will expect our arrival in three, at most four days.” 

You let out a frustrated breath. Vaemond would no doubt hear of the news, the leech opting to remain on Driftmark while the rest of his house warred.

“And what of the Triarchy following their ambush?”

Luceon steps forward. 

“The ambush was but a last ditch effort from the Triarchy to win one last victory, it, however, amounted to nothing.”

“Amounted to nothing?” you bark a hysterical laugh. “Lord Corlys lays comatose before you and you speak of this attack amounting to nothing? We will be cut at our knees if he does not wake.” 

Luceon’s eye twitches and you note the way the acting admiral’s nose flares as you insult him but he reigns his temper.

“I meant no offense, Princess. While I deeply regret the suffering Lord Corlys must now endure, it does not change that we have ensured the Triarchy have been put down. If you will, Princess-” he gestures to the maps haphazardly laid across a table on the opposite end of the room.

“Once we had routed the Triarchy - shortly after your departure but, prior to the ambush - my Lord Corlys had sent word for more ships and men to ensure complete control of the Stepstones. In a week or so, the territory will be fully garrisoned and a total blockade on the shipping lanes will be in place.” 

Your gaze meets the young admiral with a nod. 

“Very good,” you acknowledge with an apologetic smile. “We must ensure the fortification of the Stepstones. If Lord Corlys falls, it cannot be in vain. I will also send for more of mine own men and ships to join the blockade. They are stationed far closer than that of the Velaryon fleet and can be there in the next two days, maybe less. They will ensure the territory is garrisoned until the Velaryon fleet arrives.” 

“Thank you, Princess,” he offers a genuine smile. “We shall all sleep better for it. For now, however, we shall make haste for Driftmark and set sail at dawn.”

Still pouring over the maps, you offer him a curt, “no.”

“No?” 

“No,” you straighten your back, both hands now resting on the pommel. “Lord Corlys must remain here until his fever breaks.”

“But, Princess-”

“Our own voyage to Evenfall was a treacherous one,” you explain. “The journey is far too dangerous and the Sea Snake has taken considerable damage. A journey such as the one you suggest will be too long in Lord Corlys’s current state, lest we wish to hasten his meeting with the Stranger.”

“Not to mention,” you continue with a shaky breath. “If Lord Corlys’s current state were to turn while at sea, the ship maester may not have what is needed to tend to him. Should the Sea Snake set sail for Driftmark, it should be only after either Lord Corlys’s fever has broken or after his death. I pray it is not the latter.”

Luceon holds your gaze for a moment as he contemplates your words before agreeing with your position.  

“Very well,” you nod to all in the room. “We will see ourselves out.”

You pause however, turning to the unknown man seated in the corner. 

“I hear you are the hero who pulled Lord Corlys from the sea,” you address him. “Your name sailor?” 

“I am called Alyn, Princess,” he bows his head. “I am, however, no hero.” 

You breathe a small laugh and step closer to him, curious hand touching at the familiar silvery locks of his hair as you smile at him with a knowing look. 

“How very modest of you but, I assure, if Lord Corlys was not indebted to you before, he is now.”

 -

You were right. 

Vaemond Velaryon was petitioning the succession of Driftmark. You shouldn’t have been surprised. You predicted it. Yet there was still a small part of you that was. More so, because of how quick the news came- just shy of a day to be exact.

Aboard your own capital ship, you sit around the table with your commanders. The four of you going back and forth, planning your next moves and altering plans accordingly until you're satisfied. 

“So, that’s settled then,” you run over the plan a final time. “Trystane you will remain here with fifty men and keep eyes on the Sea Snake and for any movements they might make.”

“Aye,” the curly-maned man nods.

“Selyse, you will move forward with joining Sybelle to lead the bulk of the fleet to the stepstones,” you address the raven-haired beauty. “A raven had already been sent to her to set sail at the earliest convenience and only under Velaryon colours as we have been this entire time.”

You tap your finger on a point of the map.

“Remember, patrol only until the rest of the Velaryon fleet arrives. Once they do, you will sail to Driftmark and anchor there until I send word. Let the men rest, let them recuperate and ensure what damages can be, are fixed but, remember we must not bring unwanted attention to ourselves. The rest of the fleet will remain where they are with Ajax.”

“Understood, Princess.”

“Very well,” you smile grimly. “Trystane, Selyse, set the patrols and get some rest. You in particular, Selyse, you hoist sail soon and have a long few days ahead of you.” 

Both commanders stand and bow their heads as you bid them farewell. Once the door closes behind them, you slump in your chair. Your comfort however, does not last long when a knock soon sounds at your door. 

“Enter,” you call with a sigh. 

It is your own maester, Olyvar, who peers around the now ajar door and you beckon him in with a welcome hand. 

“Apologies, Princess,” the graying man shuffles in with two parchments in hand. “I know the hour is busy but I bear news that I thought you would prefer soon rather than late.”

“There is no need for an apology, Olyvar, I intended to come see you shortly. Please sit,” you gesture at the chair beside you. “What news do you bring?”

He holds out the first parchment, it’s thick, several pages sealed together.

“From Winterfell.”

You straighten your back, excitement coursing through you as you eagerly reach for it. 

“News from Lord Cregan?” 

“Aye.”

You hastily break the seal, eagerly reading the familiar scroll of your old friend and letting out a small laugh at the news he sent, Olyvar and Eadric sharing a smile at your joy.

“You must read this,” you hand one of the papers to Eadric. “You as well, Olyvar.”

A gruff laugh is shortly followed and Eadric passes it to Olyvar whose own belly laugh soon fills your quarters. 

The smile on your face soon falters however, as a mournful feeling spreads through you and dampens your mood. Olyvar and Eadric feel the shift immediately as silence blankets the room; Olyvar placing a comforting hand atop yours, your other hand rubbing at your chest as you try not to think of your absence. 

You offer a weak smile and change the subject, “what other news do you bring?”

Olyvar hesitates as he hands the other folded piece of parchment to you, the broken seal sloppily stamped with your family’s sigil stares back at you.

“It appears to have been sent at least three moons past and has since passed through several hands before it reached here. The seal was unbroken of course on arrival but, I did as you instructed.”

Your heart skips a beat, hands and cheeks suddenly feeling warm as a different type of ache settles in your chest.

“He still writes?”

“Yes, Princess. Still not very well, I must confess. The ink still runs with water stains and the words are not always legible but he still writes.”

You inhale sharply. 

You were sure that his previous letter would be the last. Although, you thought every previous letter would be the last and yet, it never was. 

You turn the parchment over in your hands but don’t open it. 

“What of its contents?”

“The same as always. Wondering of your whereabouts, when you will come back home and… that he still wai-”

“Thank you, Maester Olyvar,” you cut him off before he finishes and hand the parchment back to him unread. “Now, I have other business I need you to attend to.”

Doling out the several messages you need him to send as soon as possible, you quickly dismiss him with a grateful but tense smile. Slumping once again when the door closes behind him. 

“I suppose he will not need to wonder much longer of your absence,” Eadric comments across from you.  

“I suppose not,” you agree. 

“You do not have to go to King’s Landing if you do not wish to. Princess Rhaenys and Princess Rhaenyra will both be there to vouch for Prince Lucerys.”

“Yes…” you stand and pour yourself a cup of wine. “But, Rhaenyra and Rhaenys have both been far away from court for as long- longer, than I have and you know just as well as I do that it might not be my King-father who will preside over this petition.” 

“Princess, you have just said so yourself that you have been away from court for almost as long as they have.”

“Yes but, we have spent the past two years side-by-side with Lord Corlys. Something only my King-father knows. For Lucerys, I must appeal to him, to the court and let it be known that Lord Corlys reaffirmed several times that Lucerys is to be his heir…” you absentmindedly toy with the thin brass whistle hanging from your neck as you gulp down the red liquid. “What good is a Lord’s word over his own keep if it is so easily disregarded by disgruntled and greedy family members?”

“Apologies, Princess, I spoke out of turn.” 

Hand tightening around the whistle, you wave the apology off and tell him there's no need for it.

“If it is of any comfort, Deimos is well, Princess. He was sighted nesting on an island not far from here.”

“Hm?”

Eadric nods at the whistle you anxiously pull at- the whistle you had trained Deimos to respond to given your frequent movings.

“It is not Deimos who worries me,” you place the goblet down and take a shaky breath. “It's returning home, returning to my family… it will disarm me in a way that I have not been in five years...”

You pause for a moment, trying to find your words as you toy anxiously now with your fingers. Eadric looks at you sympathetically, all too aware of your struggles with them.

“In truth, I am afraid, Ser Eadric. I do not know what has become of my family, especially my half-siblings and step-mother. None know that I am coming and given the… nature of how I left, I do not know how they will receive me. In the Free Cities, I could build a wall of protection, quite literally, around me but, in King’s Landing? I am vulnerable.”

Not just to your family but, to matters of the heart but, you don’t tell Ser Eadric that. You don’t need to. He already knows. 

Ser Eadric and Deimos were all that you left your home with and both still remained at your side five years later. And not only did Ser Eadric fulfill his role as your appointed Kingsguard and sworn sword but he had also filled the parent-shaped hole that was left in your life when you left Westeros. 

“And that is why I am there for you, Princess,” the aging man reassures you with a warm smile that settles your nerves. 

Putting the subject to rest, you instruct Eadric to ready his ship, “Ensure you have all that you need for the Dragon’s Trident to sail for King’s Landing at first light.”

“You do not wish to take your own ship? I do believe the journey would be of more comfort to you if you did.”

“It would but, I suspect my King-father will not appreciate The King’s Deceit anchoring at his port,” you snort a laugh. “And besides, the owings of comfort are of no consequence to me. I will fly to King’s Landing. I do believe it’s time I also took Deimos home. He has not been around other dragons since we left all those years ago.”

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonbon 2024. All rights reserved.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Playing With Fire

24/12: A Fancy Party & Praising - modern!Aemond Targaryen Word Count: 2.1k~ | Warnings: raunchy texts, pussy slapping, public sex, p in v sex, praise, dirty talk A/N: missed these two??? It's our Perfect Score duo!

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

She hates these events. Hates the pomp and ego. Her situation has changed but the figure skating business certainly hadn't.

Since returning to Singles, Rhaenys had encouraged her to get involved in it all again, as much as she knew she loathed it. Connections were everything after all. And she supposed it was an excuse to have a glass of bubbly.

Rhaenys was in her usual flawless getup. A floor length pale blue, with the corset littered with sparkles. Except this time, instead of dragging her around by her forearm, she'd bought her doting husband, Corlys, and was dragging him around instead.

She gravitated instantly to Baela and Rhaena, dressed in matching blues. Baela wore a skin tight dress without sleeves and it was such a dark blue that in some light, it could've been black. Whereas Rhaena matched her blue to Rhaenys, bar all the sparkle, since she insisted it was 'tacky'.

She'd rolled her eyes at that.

Some things never change.

"Hello, you", she turned to find a familiar face, voice and mop of curly brown hair.

"Jace!"

He gave her a tight-lipped smile and a friendly hug somehow without really touching her, "nice to see you out on the ice again."

"Oh, you know me, can't keep away", she smirked, throwing a lock of waved hair over her shoulder.

Yet another familiar face poked from the shadows, "miss me?"

Both Jace and her smiled brightly, "Cregan, nice to see you!"

"You too," he smiled, "fucking hate these things."

She gave a dry laugh, "yeah, me too. Just an excuse to have some fancy food really."

Cregan laughed, "at least you're honest."

As the glasses of bubbly began to work their magic, her head swirling pleasantly, she watched Jace and Cregan laugh with each other, and then Baela and Rhaena alike.

There was a full ache in her chest, tapping her fingernails against the glass flute, wishing that a certain person was also here to accompany her.

She had respected Aemond's decision to not attend events such as this.

He would support her at matches, cheering from the sidelines, even watching when she practised, sometimes joining her, but he couldn't for the life of him force himself to go to an event where he might catch a glimpse of Alys Rivers.

He'd get no judgement from her for that.

Besides, if Alys Rivers ever dared to show her face in the same building as her, she'd face her wrath.

She finds herself, absentmindedly sipping the tart prosecco, her third she notes, listening to Corlys Velaryon harp on about how amazing Rhaenys was in her day. How sensually she moved, how she used to wink at him from the sidelines and-

“Okayyy…I think I've heard just about enough.” She says awkwardly. Without that he might have gone on forever.

“Apologies. I can't say enough things to describe her.”

She nods, “I'm lucky to have her as a manager, certainly. Excuse me.”

She blinked a few times as she slid away, through the brilliantly dressed people, downing the rest of her bubbly as she pushed the glass doors towards the back of the hall to get some fresh air.

She fanned herself with her hand, feeling all hot from the humid air vaped off everyone’s bodies inside. Her phone illuminates her face as she pulls it from her clutch, a smile rising to her lips to find Aemond’s name as the most recent contact to have sent her a message.

She laughed quietly, her thumbs moving quickly to reply, heart all aflutter.

There’s a long quiet. Those three lines to say he’s replying come on, then off, then on again.

Um.

What. 

Okay. What the fuck.

Her eyes were like saucers, the cold blue light bouncing off them as she stared at his response.

Gods, what the fuck was Aemond on??

She found herself looking around briefly.

Aemond hadn't known what she'd worn. How could he have?

She was stunned for a moment, her thumbs unmoving as her eyebrows furrowed at her screen in confusion.

It was a good job she was outside, the squeal she let out bounced off the walls when she felt two hands sliding around her waist.

If she were a different person, she'd have used her clutch as a weapon, it was certainly heavy enough.

But in the end she's glad she didn't as she whips around to be greeted with the familiar smirk, platinum tied-back hair and mismatched eyes of Aemond.

Her phone nearly falls from her hands in shock, "Aemond, what the fuck?!"

He chuckles breathily, "Nice to see you too, princess."

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, gaining her breath back slightly, her chest feeling hot but at the same time, a smile rising to her lips at his presence. Stupidly, seeing him is just what she needed.

"Thought I'd come and see my girl, only to find that yet again that cunt Northerner is trying to get into her pants."

She swallowed at the way he'd said it, all low and halfway between flirty and angry. And ashamed as she is to say it, a warmth drifts between her thighs, her insides clenching around nothing, remembering perhaps the borderline dirty words he'd typed over text.

"I was...just being nice-"

"Oh were you now?" he drones, leaning forward impossibly close, a platinum strand falling from behind his ear to frame his sharp features. His hand on the wall on one side of her head feels close, half caging her in and the anticipation of his proximity is suffocating.

His gaze drops to her outfit, akin to the one she wore when her and Aemond had to attend their first shmoozing event back when they worked in Pairs.

"You do look gorgeous," he starts, humming appreciatively, "I remember you wearing something like this back when we hated each other."

"We didn't hate each other." She rolls her eyes, not able to help the smile that quirks at her lips.

But Aemond cocks his head, narrowing his gaze, "Uh huh, sure. Well you hated me then," he grins, "in any case, princess, I'm not sure I can wait for us to ditch this place."

Her lips part, unsure what he means until he has her pressed to the wall, his tall, broad form easily framing her in to trap her, rather enjoying the lost, dumb look on her face as his fingers trickle down to the hem of her dress.

"Aemond!" She whisper shouts, looking around as her face burns at the thought of being so brazen out in public like this. If anyone came through those horrendous glass doors... the thought has her core throb with danger and her skin alight with nerves.

"What? I promised, didn't I?" He muses, his lips descending to place open-mouthed kisses on her neck, below her ear, "I said I'd fuck you stupid."

Yes, but I didn't think you meant here, is all she's able to think.

But her mouth fails to move as he rucks up her dress to her middle, surprised in himself to find there was nothing beneath.

"Trying to impress someone?"

"Can't wear underwear with this dre-ah!"

She has to cover her mouth when Aemond slaps her harshly right onto her hot core, throbbing with want for him by now she's sure. The action, so lewd and exciting, has her clenching around nothing.

"Yeah yeah, don't want your pathetic fucking excuses, princess," he utters darkly, his tongue running over the bit of skin he'd just bitten lightly, and she mewls, turning into a choked moan the second he eases two fingers into her.

She's not as wet as she would be with some preparation, but right now that's half the thrill. She's still excited enough from his words over text alone that there's no pain but only the stretch of his fingers as he crooks forwards, brushing that spot inside her that has her toes curling in her heels.

She grabs his wrist, "fuck-Aemond-"

"There it is. Such a dirty fucking girl for me, aren't you."

She nods feebly, not even really listening, too focussed on tightening her grip on him as he pistons two fingers into her, the tightness in her belly beginning to crest as Aemond brushes her sweet spot with every push inside.

"Fuck-I can feel you tightening around me you little slut."

He punctuates it with yet another wetter slap as he pulls his digits from her, making her let out a muffled squeal.

She barely has time to crack her eyes open before Aemond is pressed up against her, his hands grasping her thighs to pull her up the wall against him. He only really needs one hand to do it, his chest anchoring hers to him as his other fumbles with his belt.

"Tell you what, if you can be quiet for me, I'll let you cum." He breathes against her lips, his jaw all tense like this is all he's been able to think about since he saw her.

"Aemond, wai-"

He doesn't.

Both of them have to stifle a sort of relieved moan as he slides into her, the stretch of him never failing to steal the air from her lungs. Her arms tighten around his back, all ideas of being caught or the fact that there are several dozen people inside the building next to them right at this moment, is completely distant.

The first genuine thrust he gives makes her want to cry out, but she thinks better of it and presses her lips together, each movement of himself inside her making that task ten times harder. But the prospect of not being allowed fulfilment is the thing that keeps her from it.

"That's my girl - that's my good fucking girl - doing so well-"

She's ashamed to say how the praise shoots straight to her core, tightening around him so impossibly much that she swears Aemond fucking whines when he tries to push inside her again.

"Aw, did you like that, baby? - do you like being my good girl?"

She's not sure if she nods or if it's the force of Aemond's brutal thrusts that is making her head move, but he takes it as confirmation nonetheless.

"Fuck - I could stay buried in your pretty little pussy all fucking day -" he muses, his voice all strained the longer he continues his rapid pace, his skin that pokes out from beneath his shirt meets hers with a soft slap, her face heating up when she feels that her slick is beginning to come away on him each time.

And she knows she's done for as soon as his hand drifts down between her legs, his thumb playing with her pearl with the aid of her arousal.

And he expects me not to make a sound or cum? she thinks to herself.

She keeps herself together through sheer stubbornness if anything, the two overwhelming pleasures at once threatening to have her topple over the edge at any moment.

"My perfect girl - come on, I can't wait any longer, want you to fucking soak my cock, come on-"

He almost sounds impatient, and if the needy tone of his voice doesn't propel her into rapture, the way he presses his thumb against her clit certainly does. And she falls over the edge with a muffled whine into his neck, near sobbing with pleasure as Aemond doesn't let up, fucking into her with abandon to chase his own when he feels the way she clamps around his length.

She lets out another moan to chase the last as she feels Aemond's shuddered breath and the warmth fills her as he hits his own high. Staying like that for a brief, warm moment, before he sets her down on wobbly feet.

He grins at the exhausted look on her face as he pulls her dress down, not missing the way he's already started to leak out of her. But he can't talk, he's all flushed in the face as well, tugging his trousers back over his hips.

She adjusts her hair, all frizzy from the moisture in the cold winter air.

"Come on then." He grins wolfishly.

He walks the opposite direction she expects. And her brows furrow in confusion as Aemond heads to the glass doors, to go inside the venue.

"Where are you going?"

"Can't go without at least saying hello to everyone, now can I? Maybe I'll speak to Cregan Stark."

Her mouth hangs open in shock, "Aemond-"

Your cum is running down my thighs. She wants to say.

And he seems to understand, based on the way he smirks at the warmth that graces her cheeks in embarrassment, "Come on, princess, don't be rude now."

She bites her lip in annoyance, hooking her arm into his.

If she didn't love him, she'd kill him.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

[bookishcarmela]

Dark Desires

warnings: none

pairings: jacaerys velaryon x targ!reader, aemond targaryen x targ!reader

synopsis: Princess Y/n, the eldest daughter of Daemon and Laena Targaryen, faces a tumultuous life after her mother's death. Her father marries Rhaenyra Targaryen, and Y/n is betrothed to Rhaenyra's eldest son, Jacaerys. Over time, Y/n and Jacaerys grow to love each other deeply. However, their lives are thrown into turmoil when Y/n unexpectedly reunites with her cousin, Aemond igniting new emotions. As the threat of war looms, Y/n grapples with her feelings and the competing demands of love, duty to her family, and her betrothal to Jacaerys. She must navigate this emotional and political minefield to find her true path amidst the chaos.

Chapter 1: Drift Mark

 Y/n Targaryen felt the cold bite of winter against her skin as she rode Silverwing through the crisp morning air. The dragon's scales gleamed in the early light, a beacon against the pale sky. The flight from Dragonstone to Driftmark was short, but the chill in the air tinted her tan skin a soft pink. As she approached High Tide, she saw the pale stone towers peeking over the clouds. The welcoming cry of her grandmother's dragon, Meleys, echoed in the distance.

Landing gracefully, Y/n spotted her sister Baela waiting for her. They laughed and embraced each other warmly.

"Sister, it’s been too long," Y/n said, though it had only been a fortnight since their last meeting.

Baela’s silver hair was now cut short and braided, a change Y/n noticed immediately. As they let go of each other, Baela still held her hand.

"Come, sister," Baela said. "We have much to talk about."

They made their way down the corridors of High Tide, catching up on everything they couldn’t fit into their letters. Entering the main room, they saw their grandmother, Rhaenys, sitting upon the driftwood throne. She stood and embraced Ayra warmly.

"My sweet girl, it’s been too long. I’ve missed you," Rhaenys said.

"I’ve missed you as well, Grandmother," Y/n replied.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the maester and their uncle Vaemond. Y/ns' heart sank as she remembered her grandfather, Lord Corlys, who had been gone for six years fighting in the Stepstones. The maester spoke solemnly of how Corlys had been injured in battle and had contracted a fever that many hadn’t survived.

Rhaenys thanked the maester, asking him to prepare for Corlys’s arrival. Y/n could see the mix of emotions in her grandmother’s eyes.

"The Sea Snake is strong, Grandmother," Baela said, trying to comfort her. "Truly, it’ll take much more than a fever to best him. The Sea Snake is much too stubborn."

"I’m afraid not even my brother’s stubbornness can save him," Vaemond interjected, stepping closer. "I have seen blood fever overcome men half his age."

"I will not suffer the talk of crows in my house, Vaemond," Rhaenys said sternly, giving him a pointed look.

"I love my brother," Vaemond continued.

"If you loved your brother so much, then you would be doing your best to help him, not trying to usurp his seat while he is ill," Y/n said, interrupting.

"I speak only the truth, niece," Vaemond replied, turning to Y/n. "We might greet that ship only to find my brother already gone. Who will sit the driftwood throne then?"

"My grandmother seems quite comfortable here," Baela said.

"She resides only in the absence of her husband," Vaemond snapped. "Upon his death, the seat passes."

"To Lucerys Velaryon," Rhaenys interrupted, her voice firm. "As is my lord husband’s wish."

"I am the Sea Snake's own blood, the closest he has left," Vaemond said, looking at Rhaenys.

"I would mind my words if I were you, Uncle," y/n said. "One could take your words for treason."

Vaemond’s hard gaze turned back to Arya as he stepped onto the dais where Ayra and Baela stood on either side of their grandmother.

"I speak the truth, niece, and you know it. All of you know it," Vaemond said, looking at all three of them. "It has been decided," Rhaenys said, her voice steady but tinged with anger.

"By a man whose ambition has brought calamity upon us," Vaemond said, raising his voice. "My brother cares only for the history books, but the Velaryon line is to be snuffed out, supplanted by the pups of House Strong. Driftmark is mine by all rights. I should like your support," he said, looking Rhaenys dead in the eyes, "but I do not… need it. The winds have shifted. The crown has good reason to take my side."

"My cousin, the king, would have your tongue for this," Rhaenys said, her voice venomous.

"But it’s not the king who sits the Iron Throne these days, good sister. It is a queen," Vaemond said, stepping closer.

"You best mind yourself. She is still the lady of this household, and you are no more than a second son," Ayra said.

"Why, you little—" Vaemond started, straightening himself, his words cold.

"I would choose my next words carefully," Y/n said. "You forget yourself, Uncle. I am a princess of House Targaryen. You best mind your tongue before you lose it."

"You’ve overstayed your welcome, good brother," Rhaenys said, standing. "You may take your leave."

Vaemond tilted his head up and sent pointed looks to both Ayra and Baela before leaving in angry steps.

After her strenuous morning, Rhaenys excused herself back to her rooms, leaving Y/n and Baela to spend the day together. They walked along the beaches of Driftmark, the ocean seemingly calm today. The waves lapped gently at their feet, and the salty air filled Y/n with memories of her mother.

The sea always made Y/n think of her mother: her long curly white hair, her soft skin, and the way she used to hold Y/n. She remembered those last days before her mother passed, the day she had claimed Silverwing. She had rushed into her mother’s room, filled with happiness, to announce that she had finally claimed her own dragon. Her mother, sitting in a long white dress with a hand on her pregnant belly, had been so proud.

Her mother had promised that after the baby came and she healed, they would fly together. Such a simple memory, yet it brought a heavy weight to Y/n heart. Baela’s voice brought her back to the present.

“So, dear sister,” Baela said with a mischievous smile, “how is your betrothed?”

Y/n let out a giggle. “Jace is fine. He’s still struggling with his High Valyrian, but he’ll get it in no time. Vermax is big enough to fly now, so we’ve been flying together over the Dragonmount and the Blackwater.”

“You seem quite taken with him,” Baela teased, laughing. “You’ve come so far from playing kissing games with Father’s squires.”

Y/n nudged her with her shoulder, laughing as well. “If I remember correctly, I wasn’t the only one playing those games.”

“Yes, but you are the older sister. You’re supposed to set an example,” Baela replied in a light, airy tone.

“Oh, please, Baela. You were just as much trouble as I was. Besides, now I’m too old for kissing games,” Y/n giggled.

“Yes, we do much more than kissing now,” Baela said, laughing and bumping into Y/n.

“It is unladylike to speak of such things,” Y/n teased. “All I will say is that Jace does not leave me wanting for anything.” She winked, and both girls erupted into laughter once more.

After laughing until they were out of breath, they looked at each other.

“I’ve missed this,” Y/n said. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Baela replied. “How much longer will you stay here, Baela?”

All the humor left Baela’s face. “I don’t want to have this conversation again, Y/n.”

“Baela, please,” Y/n said. “You cannot stay mad at Father forever. Rhaena misses you. I miss you. Father misses you. We have two younger brothers who barely know you. You have to let this go. You have to come home.”

“Dragonstone is not my home,” Baela said. “Driftmark is my home, as it was Mother’s. My place is here with Grandmother. You see how things are here—Grandfather’s not dead yet, and still, vultures come to try to take his throne. I must stay here with Grandmother.”

“You and I both know that Grandmother can take care of this on her own,” y/n said. “With Meleys, she would make quick work of anyone who tried to harm her or her house. Don’t use her as an excuse to stay here. You’re five and ten, Baela; you’re too old for these games.”

Baela kept quiet and looked away, towards the sea, watching the sun slowly set as the sea swallowed it whole.

“The hour is late, sister,” Baela said. “Our grandmother is waiting for us.” The rest of the walk was quiet, and once they were within the walls of High Tide, they took their separate ways.

High Tide had always been an odd place for Y/n. They had lived in Pentos until she was four and then made their way here because her mother wished for her children to be raised in her childhood home. Y/n could tell that her father never really liked it. He never fully adjusted to High Tide, yet he stayed for her mother’s sake.

As she made her way into her childhood room, closing the door behind her, it seemed almost frozen in time, unchanged since she was a girl. No one ever took it. High Tide had a lack of guests ever since the death of her mother and uncle Laenor. Y/n quickly stripped out of her riding leathers and bathed herself, changing into an airy dress.

Its top was a light blue silk, almost so light it looked silver, with two silver dragons connected at her waist. The bottom of the dress was white lace. It was rare to see her out of her house colors, but she did love the blues and silvers of House Velaryon.

A servant took her to where her sister and grandmother waited. She sat opposite Baela, who only glanced at her. Y/n looked towards her grandmother, grabbing her hand.

“How do you fare, Grandmother?” Y/n asked.

“I am well, my dear. These leeches try to take everything from me, but I am of my father’s blood. I will stay strong,” Rhaenys replied, pausing before continuing. “My dear, I need you to write to your father about what has happened today. I have received word that Vaemond is readying to go to the capital to petition for your grandfather’s seat. We will leave on the morrow.” She looked at both her granddaughters, grabbing Baela’s hand as well. “We must stand as a united front. I need you both to ready yourselves for anything that might happen. It has been too long since we’ve been in the capital, and I fear we have no friends there.”

The rest of dinner was light, filled with simple conversations and old memories. When they were done, Y/n excused herself and went back to her chambers. As she wrote to her father, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of excitement. It had been too long since she had been in King’s Landing since they had all been in King’s Landing. Once she was done, she lay in bed and readied herself for what the morning held.

next chapter

[litchifaerie]

Guilty as Sin [Aemond Targaryen]

pairing: aemond targaryen x niece!reader (unspecified dad)

warnings: fluff, very little angst, not Daemon's daughter but she has silver hair, ooc!aemond (?), "i burn for you" typa confession. niece!reader strikes again.

word count: 3.3k

After the incident of Driftmark, it was a known fact that the family of the dragon has now broken into two factions, namely: The Hightower Greens and The Targaryen Blacks. Young Prince Lucerys had somehow managed to blind his uncle, Prince Aemond, in an act of what rumours say to be “self defence”. The family damaged beyond repair went on to live separately, no longer finding joy in maintaining the facade of a “happy joint family” to appease their king. Now years later, the question of inheritance of Driftmark is raised. Lord Corlys Velaryon is feared to be nearing his death and thus Vaemond Velaryon has raised a petition for himself to be declared the heir instead of its true heir, Lucerys Velaryon.

When the Blacks made their home in Dragonstone it took them quite a while to settle in with its rough seas and jagged cliffs. In a few months everyone seemed to settle in well. Everyone except for Rhaenyra’s eldest child, her only daughter, you. Back at King’s Landing you loved the court. You loved meeting the ambassadors of kingdoms you had read about in books with Aemond. You loved sneaking around the castle at midnight with Aemond. Your bare feet hurriedly rushing over the cold of the stone floors in search of some leftover lemon cakes in the kitchens. You loved sewing with Helaena and learning the names of her friendly little creatures. You and Aemond were perhaps the only companions she had growing up.

Yes, yes, you missed Aemond even more so. And now six years later, here you are, sitting in the carriage with your mother and step-father awaiting to reach the Red Keep soon. You’re busy gazing out the windows, looking at how much King’s Landing has changed. I wonder if that jeweller still has a shop in the city market. Lost in your thoughts you jump a little when you hear your mother speak. “Do keep an eye on your brothers there. Daemon and I have some matters to attend with the King the moment we reach. I do not want those two to pick a fight with your uncles.” Rhaenyra speaks calmly.

You nod with a polite “Of course mother”. And with a moment of hesitation, you ask “Is it alright if I invite Helaena for an afternoon tea, perhaps even a play date for her twins and little Viserys and Aegon? Please allow it mother! It has been ages since I last saw her! I wish to see my baby cousins and catch up with my dear aunt…” Rhaenyra can never say no to your pleading eyes. She only chuckles “yes my dear you may”.

It wasn’t a long while before the carriage came to a stop. A knight comes to open the door for you. “No one to greet us hmm” murmurs Daemon. His ability to remain stoic sometimes makes him seem invisible even in close proximity. He steps out first, helping you and your mother down next. Jace and Luce come rushing begging to go to the training grounds. “Boys”, you call out, “Mother and Father have some matter to attend to. Now if we may, lets see how the knights here train at King’s Landing.” With that you just turn around and they follow you like ducklings, ever the obedient little brothers.

You make your way to the training yard, looking around and seeing specks of your past. It all seemed like a far away dream now. How happily the boys played fight together, with you dabbling in some swordplay at times. Distant shouts of cheers catch your attention and you look their way. “Seems like there’s a fight going on” Jace remarks. And Luce replies energetically “Lets go see how the knights fare then” and drags you both towards the crowd.

A clash of swords and flurry of movements of men later you are able to catch a glimpse of long silver hair. A Targaryen. Long hair and a fine swordsman? Can’t be Aegon. That leaves the 2 others. And as you get closer you recognise his silhouette. It took you a little time but you can spot him anywhere still. It’s not your eyes that tell you of his identity but your heart. Its him. Yes, it is. Its Aemond.

“Well done my prince. In no time will you be participating in Tourneys.” Says the knight, who if your memory serves right must be Ser Criston Cole. “I don’t give a shit about tourneys” Aemond replies trying to gather himself after that tiring display of amazing swordsmanship. And then he spots you. At first Aemond believed it to be untrue. His mind had played many such games with him through the period of your absence. The Gods were cruel to not only rob him of his eye but also his dearest friend the same night. Maybe he stared at you a moment too long because that was enough for Jace to step in front of you and shield you from his uncle's view. At that Aemond seems to snap back to reality. “Nephews, come to train? Shall we see who has turned into a better swordsman these past 6 years.” He clearly is still looking to pick fights. You put your hand on Jace’s shoulder “Do not engage he just wants to rile you up”.

The crowd whispers amongst itself. Do you see that? The sons of the Queen and Princess do not get along. Are the whispers true then- You think you need to squash these whisperings now by a show of goodwill. You walk towards Aemond in the “dainty” manner a proper Lady should approach a Lord. “Uncle” you come to a halt just a bit away from Aemond, a few inches closer than it is deemed appropriate. “How have you been? I see the years have been kind to you. The tales of your growing talent of sparring has reached Dragonstone. And I am happy to say those words do no justice to your skill. You’re much better than what they lead us to believe.” Flattery. Heaps of it. So what if it’s a little backhanded. I need to patch things up even if it’s a little. “Dear niece” Aemond raises your hand to place a kiss on your knuckles “Ever the beauty. That must mean the tales of Lords and Knights fighting over a chance to court you must be true then?” and all you can do is chuckle. Oh so he will play this game then. “You flatter me too much my prince. I was wondering if you and Princess Helaena would have your afternoon tea with me. I’ve missed you incredibly. And I just can’t wait to meet little Jaehaera and Jaehaerys”

Ser Cole places his hand on the prince’s arm, “Perhaps some other day Princess. Prince Aemond has some mat-”. “Yes I will” Aemond butts in before Cole can finish. “Very well then” you fold your hands together. “I shall take my leave now. The journey here was rather long and tiring”. You look behind you to see the astonished faces of your brothers. You know what thy must be thinking. What the fuck is going on in her head? “Come Jace. Come Luce. Let us go freshen up. Mother is waiting for us” You wait for your brothers to take one of your arms each. And you leave just like that. Maintaining eye contact with Aemond for as long as it was societally acceptable of you to look his way without it spurring rumours.

Are her hips swaying? Is what Aemond notices as he watches you leave. With a smirk on his face his last thought is: You’re home now zaldrītsos.

You walk with your brothers to your room, both of them still silent, a little surprised at your actions that’s all. You’re at your door when you turn around “Brothers if you may. Please go to your respective rooms and tell your servants how you’ll like your rooms arranged. The long jouney has taken a toll on me and I wish to be alone.” They know that tone. They know what you say is less of a suggestion and is most definitely a command. And they know better than to cross you when you’re tired. Being short tempered is something you have learned from Daemon while growing up. He truly was your father in every way imaginable except biologically.

Once in the comforts of your room you let a deep beath out. And there it is on your bed. You hoped it would be. The letter with the blue wax seal on it. A sapphire blue.

“Welcome back dear niece.

 The crown jewel has finally returned to the court.

 See you in the evening.”

                              ~ A. T.

It’s evening now and in another part of the Keep, Aemond seems to overhear a very important conversation on his way to his sister. One about the matter of your betrothal. “Those Hightower cunts” Daemon seethes openly. Mother? Aemond hides behind a pillar in the seemingly deserted corridor while he heard his uncle openly badmouth his “kin” without any care of who might hear. The doors to the chamber were left ajar. “When you suggested y/n be betrothed to Aegon and Jace to Helaena. She refused the very moment it was suggested. Appalled that such a proposal can even be made. And now when we are here to have the king’s blessing to betroth Jace to y/n, the so called Hand has already made a suggestion for a match between that one eyed boy knight and our daughter!” Rhaenyra is just silent. Daemon seethes in his anger. But all Aemond focuses on is that he could have your hand if his mother finds a way. And also, a little angry that Jacaerys Velaryon, rather Strong, might covet what’s his.

Fuelled by what he refuses to call jealousy, the prince makes his way through the Keep. With only one destination in mind, he storms through the corridors paying no mind to the strange looks he receives. And its as if he is 10 again, knocking at the doors of his beloved friend. But now he is a man of 19, and she is more than his friend. She is his destiny and he will have her.

You’re busy taking your heavy necklace off, opting to wear long delicate crystal earring instead which matches the long flowy gown you changed into for the tea when you notice the knocks. Thinking its your ladies-in-waiting you yell out a “Come in.” Setting the necklace on top of the dresser, you’re surprised to find Aemond’s reflection staring at you through the mirror. “My prince” you turn to face him, still sitting at your vanity, “Aren’t you here a little early for the tea?”

“Hmm…” Aemond just hums in reply and sits on the settee nearby, “I’ve come to know of an interesting proposition regarding you my niece”. That was enough to have your attention, “And what that might be Aemond?” you cock an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to be betrothed by the time your stay here ends”. You’re a little stunned but you expected this coming. Your mother has given you the liberty to choose who you might marry but you won’t do so at the expense of her political foothold. Marriage cannot always be for love and you will follow your duty like the honorable Princess of the realm you are if that is what’s required of you. “Yes, I’m aware” you tell him plainly. “I think they have Jacaerys in mind.”

“And you have no issue regarding it” Aemond asks, finding himself to be a little unnerved at your calm demeanour. “No issue whatsoever?” And you can’t help but sigh “It is what is expected of me uncle. Targaryens are known to marry their siblings. Look at yours. I always knew that there might be a possibility of me marrying Jacaerys. I am my mother’s firstborn. Her heir. But I am not a son. She only seeks to squash any problem that might raise for when I ascend the throne by marrying me to her firstborn son.”

“He’s not worthy of you. None of those plain-featured boys. You’re more valyrian than they are with your silver hair.” Aemond speaks out. “If I were you, I would watch my tongue Aemond. Don’t want you to lose your other eye due to your idiocy.” You say casually while combing through your hair.

Aemond was a little sick of your nonchalant attitude. How can you agree to this match? Why do you seem so fine? Why are you willing to go through with this? All he can do is sit in silence, his eye refusing to watch your figure, his ego stopping him from expressing what he wants. But you know what he wants, and you want him to say it out loud.

You get up from the vanity, your silver hair in loose waves, the setting sun casting an ethereal glow around you. You look like the very picture of an angel to Aemond with a halo behind you. And suddenly all he can see is you, all he can breathe is you. You’re close, too close to him, his knees are touching your leg as you stand in front of him. The door to your room is only closed shut and not locked. One can just simply walk in and catch you.

Your fingers ghost over his cheek, trailing up to his eyepatch. “Does it hurt now?” he hears you say. There is no pity on your face, just curiosity. And your touch is so delicate, so soothing. “Not as much. Sometimes when I have worked myself too hard a sharp sensation shoots up but then subsides in a while”. And now its your turn to hum. Bringing your other hand to his other cheek you gently cup his face. And Aemond’s lone eye meets yours.

His eye seems so vacant. But if I look hard enough, I can catch a glimpse of the young boy who chased me through the gardens. “Can I see it. Your eye?” you rub your thumb against his cheek. Affection. Aemond bring his hand up to reach for yours, the one on the side of the maimed eye. “It is ugly. It might frighten a lady.” He hesitates. She will take one look at me in my hideous glory and never look my way again.

“Not to me. Especially when its you.” That sentence holds a lot more meaning and truth than what one might think and you only hope Aemond understands. And Aemond does what you ask of him. He gently removes his eyepatch waiting for you to let out a gasp. He wants to close his eyes for your inevitable disgusted expression but he cannot look away from you. He looks at every muscle you move on your face but he doesn’t see a grimace, instead could it be, is it awe?

A soft smile graces your face, wildly different from what he anticipated it to be. “The sapphire compliments your features nicely. I hope the gem isn’t uncomfortable?” He is dumbstruck for a minute. “No, it doesn’t, I always wanted to thank you in person for this gift.” When his eye healed, Aemond was surprised to find the city’s most famous jeweller with a chest full of his best gems waiting for him in his mother’s parlour. A reparation I suppose, the queen had said, the Velaryon girl wrote this letter saying how “sorry" she was for her brother’s action and expresses her regret for not being able to defend you against her brother. He wanted you to be there with him when he woke the next day, he remembered your crying face when the master said Aemond’s maimed eye can’t be repaired. It’s worth it y/n. I lost an eye but gained the biggest dragon that there is.

You resume rubbing your thumb gently over his scar and that’s what brings him back. “No man, no matter how noble he is, deserves you”. “Then who does my prince? Pray tell”, you say. You know his answer. Just say it Aemond. I beg you. “I have a duty to the crown Aemond”, dropping your hands from his face, you walk away from him. “And I will do it, even if I don’t wish to.”

Aemond was furious “How can you be so blind? Do you not see my pain?”. Your back was turned to him and you closed your eyes in frustration. You turn to look at him, with angry tears in your eyes, “I am tired of waiting for you!” you yell, “These past years have been agonising. It hurt not to be around you. But those letters kept me going. Our secret exchanges were what I kept looking forward to every week.” Aemond’s chest is just heaving. “And just when I thought that there’s a sliver of chance you feel the same-”

“I do.” Aemond interrupts you. He reaches forward to hold you but you back away. “Then why Aemond” there’s a slight tremble in your voice. “Thousands of lords and knights came to have my hand. And I rejected every single of them, hoping that you will present yourself in front of my parents and ask for me. You claim to have affection for me but I don’t see it.” You cut him off before he has a chance to explain.

“I’ll show my love for you” is all the silver haired prince says before tugging you to him harshly and planting his lips on yours. Its wild, full of passion and fury. The kiss seems to ignite something in you. Both your inner dragons coming to life and breathing out fire. He’s burning you with the force of the emotions the kiss conveys.

Although you feel breathless you still craved more of him. Your hand went at the base of his neck, tangling at his roots. You drag him even close if that’s possible. Aemond’s one hand is around your throat, controlling your movement, dominating you completely. His other strongly grips your waist keeping you in place. Your lips move together in perfect synchronisation although there seems to be a bite here and there.

The Targaryens are only gods because of their dragons. Right now, right here, were two young lord and lady lost in each other and were in dire need of air yet unwilling to be apart, fearing what comes next. You’re the first to break the kiss. The evidence of your passion is seen on Aemond’s swollen red wet lips and messy hair and you can only imagine yours to look the same.

Aemond leans his head against yours, your foreheads touching. His eyes are closed in pleasure and a rare smile graces his leeps but all you can do is admire him through your eyelashes. “Make me your wife” you call out softly. “Ask my mother for my hand. I do not wish to marry Jacaerys…he is too much of a brother. It is you I want. I’ll fight for you if needed be” Aemond opens his eyes at that. “Silly girl”, he says, “The Queen has asked the King for our match to be made.” Your brows furrow in confusion, “My mother agrees?” Aemond brings a hand to caress your face, “I think she does. Daemon on the other…” Even you become anxious at that statement. “My uncle is a challenge I welcome” he continues, “Nothing can keep me away from you. I’ve waited years for this, I can’t let go of you now.”

You can’t help but smile. You loved Aemond but marrying him meant going against what your mother had taught you. Knowing the distaste Daemon held for the members of green party, and thinking of your brothers’ action against Aemond made you feel immensely guilty. But you waited all these years, you were the exceptional daughter all this while, ever obedient, ever graceful. Never a hair out of place. Always the perfect princess. And if Aemond is the treason you commit against your family, then you will happily be guilty as sin.

[misguidedasgardian]

The Hour of the Wolf (1)

1. The wolf and the sheep

MASTERLIST

Summary: Cregan Stark takes the capital

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, threats of mutilation, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon 

Wordcount: 2.2k

Notes: Sorry for the delay people jeje, anyways, this is a warm up for the real thing, this is and will be very political, I hope it can go smoother than this

King Aegon, second of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven kingdoms and protector of the realm, was dead

He had been poisoned by his own council

As Cregan Stark and an army of twenty thousand men strong, plus the survivors of the Riverlands, known as “the Lads”, and the Vale by the sea, all sieged the Capital in name of their late Queen Rhaenyra, he didn’t think of surrendering, he intended to keep fighting the war, killing hundreds of thousand more 

He was never going to surrender, and he was going to get himself, and everyone else on the Red Keep, killed

The king had grown mad in the last year

How couldn’t he? he had lost his entire family but his daughter, and his dragon, and he was the cause for millions of deaths all over the seven Kingdoms

It had finally catched up to him 

And he was going to harm the Princess, little Prince Aegon, and Baela Targaryen

Corlys Velaryon couldn’t let that happen 

So in the crack of dawn, the servants found Aeggon dead in his bed, he seemed like he had perished in his sleep, but he was still holding a cup of wine in his hand

People celebrated his death

And now people could call him the usurper out loud

Because everyone knows the truth…

Cregan Stark was coming

They were dark weeks in which the wolf was looming over the herd of sheep

And the remains of the small council were still discussing what to do, Larys Strong, Corlys Velaryon, Maester Olwyle, who was let out of his imprisonment by Rhaenyra, and Aegon’s former King’s guard, Gyles Belgrave,  and other Lords from higher houses, Borros’ younger brother

“Aegon the younger should be named heir”, said one

“King”, corrected another, “we are too late to name heirs, someone must sit the iron Throne”

“We have her older daughter” said Corlys, “if we don’t name her then all the war was for nothing, because we would be denying her in favor of the male heir”

“Let's marry them, they will rule together”

“Aegon is six, the princess is shy of turning eight and ten!”, fighted Corlys

“Aegon must marry princess Jahaera, to finally unify both fronts, and end this war once and for all”

“They are children”, fought another

“Addam Velaryon is alive, I will marry him to the Princess”, demanded Corlys

“Of course you will, so your bastard son will rule?”

“There is a inconvenience”, muttered maester Orwylde

“Which is?”, asked the Sea Snake

“According to the pact of Ice and Fire, a treaty signed by the late Prince Jacaerys and Cregan Stark, the princess is set to marry the Wolf of Winterfell” 

“That was two years ago”, said Corlys, “many things had happened since then”

“Stark is marching on the capital in revenge for his Queen!”, the old man fought, “as said treaty dictated”

“When he arrives… who will he find on the Iron Throne?”, asked Tyland, “his betrothed? or her six year-old brother?”

“It is dangerous to have Cregan Stark as a King consort”

“I think it’s exactly what we need”, muttered Corlys

“You just now wanted to marry the princess to your bastard!” 

“Where is the princess?”, asked Larys Strong, with a unsteady smile on his face

“She is her rooms”

“That girl is… she is not well!”, muttered Tyland

“She is traumatized…”, said another

“I checked her myself, she has no signs of being… unhinged nor unstable”, muttered Olwylde 

“Aegon made his dragon eat her mother alive in front of her”

“Aegon, a six year old boy was also there present, the one you would prefer to sit on the Iron Throne, a child!”

“She will seat the Iron Throne!”, said Corlys, “we must agree to it, don’t we?”

“Yes we have to” 

“Aye”, said Maester Orwylde 

“Has anyone spoken to her?”, muttered Tyland

“No since Aegon died”

“The usurper”, called Corlys

“We cannot call him that, we served him…”, remembered the Lannister 

“Cregan Stark, and the armies of the Riverlands are marching on the capital”, remembered the Sea Snake

“Do we know what his intentions are?”

“To take the capital for the blacks”, muttered Corlys, “and right now, we are all Greens”, the room was silent

“We have to please the wolf” 

“We have the Queen”

“We have to surrender the city to Stark”

Lord Baratheon just watched, amused, Larys had his eyes on him, curious about what he wanted to say

“Open the gates, we receive Stark”, he demanded, and everyone looked at him

“He will kill us all”

“Not if we don’t put resistance”, he tried, “the girl or the boy, whichever we place on the throne, is from Rhaenyra’s blood, not our Queen, but our enemy, Stark is coming here to kill us, and make sure one of them sits the Iron Throne, if you want to survive this week, i say we grab the kid, send him to the wolf and the Lads as a sign of good faith”

“What about the girl?”

“The road is no place for a princess”, he continued, “she should stay in the Keep, safe”

“As insurance”, mocked Tyland, “in case something happens to the boy”

“We send Aegon to The Lads, not to Stark”, said Alard Baratheon, “see if the Wolf takes the bait”

“She can’t know”

So the council grabbed Aegon the younger from his rooms, gathered a large caravan and delivered him to the Tullys, and leader of an army

While you… remained in your rooms unaware of what was going on.

. . .

The realms had been submerged in chaos for the last two whole years, brothers fighted sisters, kin usurped kin, dragons danced with dragons, and the results where incalculable loss of people, the fall of the greatest dynasty in Westeros, and the death of Dragons, the most incredible and powerful creatures

because dreams didn’t make the Targaryen Kings, Dragons did 

The Red Keep, House of the Dragon since a hundred years ago, had seen four monarchs in the last three years, people had come and gone, killed for their alliances, traded for others, like a mythological creature.

One man, with one monarch to serve lost his head, two more, following a different monarch rose on its place

Now the castle lay inert, quiet, those who followed Aegon had been decimated, those who had followed Rhaenyra were killed or chased away, now everyone who resided there seemed to be replaceable, taken for granted.

It wasn’t the home of the reigning family anymore

It was a carcass, waited to be filled by the next power who dared to take it for themselves, waited to be lived again by those faithful to the next Queen or King of the Seven Kingdoms

The castle was grim, silent, Viserys, Alicent, Aegon, Rhaenyra, and then Aegon again, all of them had tried to make his mark inside these walls, so now it had taken a form of some sort of Chimera, a monsters with a different head, body and feet, a part of each animal, a part of each monarch.

The colors gold, green, black and red, one started where the other ended, melted together sewing the bloody story of what it was about to be known like the Dance of the dragons, it was upsetting

Uncertainty

Doubt

Three survivors of what it once a big and powerful family

Three broken children

A empty castle

A divided Kingdom

An empty carcass, and no brave men left to fill it

None but one

Cregan Stark had come home after the defeat of the winter wolves, to gather a powerful army of forty thousand men strong.

The mission was to eliminate the remain of the Green forces, and strengthen the position of his Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen

Even though as he gathered his army, his Queen had been assassinated by her brother

That did not deter Cregan Stark, if anything, it made his mission even more imperative, now, he was up for revenge

He knew Rhaenyra had two remaining children, her oldest and only daughter, and her son Aegon the younger. The first one, two years ago, he agreed to wed, back when she was the second older child, behind Jacaerys, and a princess with nothing to her name but to make alliances

It was for her he marched south, to keep his word to her mother

He planned in taking the capital, no matter the cost, he planned on killing every single last green, even though The Lads had gotten ahead of him, eliminating Borros baratheon and the remains of his army, the Green army

As he had no news of the capital since he left Winterfell, he knew the Usurper sat the Iron Throne, no, he didn’t actually, he sat on a wooden chair at the feet of it, since he couldn’t even climbed up the steps for it

He was going to surrender the city or die at his hands

He was the late Queen’s biggest supporter, and he failed her, he took too long, he had to make amends, make things right

He, and his army, was going to mach to all corners of the Kingdoms, until everyone was accounted for their part in the usurpation of his Queen

A rider reached his army when he was passing through Harrenhal

King Aegon the usurper was dead, killed by his own men

But this did nothing but to disgust the wolf

Snaked inhabited the capital, no one else

His new Queen, and his prince were there, in midst of traitors and turncloaks, so the news of the Usurper being dead only encouraged him to march south even Quicker

The Lads were ruling those zones, assumed to ambush everyone who passes through the king’s road, but even though his scouts encountered men from the Riverlands, they did nothing to prevent him from passing

A silent truce, and agreement, they were on the same size

They did not join one another, but The Lads let Cregan Stark pass through the RIverlands uninterrupted 

Independently from Aegon the younger traveling to Harrenhal to The Lads as a gesture of good fiat, even though the young prince was part of Cregan’s mission, his main goal was to bring justice to the realm

And to keep you safe

With prince Aegon in his power, and the main commanders of the Lads, Cregan reached King’s Landing on the twentieth day of the sith moon of the year 131 AC

He found the city gates wide open, waiting for him

He found the city completely ready for the taking, the people didn’t stop him, he couldn’t see soldiers anywhere, when he arrived at the Keep, the small council was right there, on the steps leading to the great Hall where the Iron Throne was.

“Lord Stark”, greeted Corlys

Cregan was still atop his horse, looking down at this.. things, more serpents than men

He dismounted, not even caring to respond to the calling, his household, his most trusted men entered the keep, swords in hand

“This city is now under my control”, he demanded, “I have taken it, in the name of Late Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen!”, he said out loud

The soldiers there did surrender their weapons, as the northerners spread all over the courtyard and the main streets of the city 

A pack of wolves in a hunt

Cregan paid no mind to the weakened remains of the Green council, and he found no real authority there, Cregan Stark started to give orders

“Send word to Dragonstone, to send whomever is left from Queen Rhaenyra’s council”, he said to the maester Orwylde, who just nodded and limped away to fulfill the order. “Including a new maester”, he said with a demanding look on his face 

Nobody questioned him

He was tall, and broad, long black hair secured by braids, two piercing eyes and a reputation in battle.

The wolf had come to the capital

He had taken the city without even shedding a drop of blood, without even unsheathing his sword 

He entered the throne room, and he was not surprised to see it empty, The Iron Throne right there.

A strange wooden chair with wheels at the foot

“Have that burned in the courtyard, where everyone can see”, he demanded to his second in command, he nodded and took three men with him to fulfill his order, “For every green dragon banner that I see I will behead a Lannister, a Baratheon or a Hightower!”, he said aloud, and at least ten men from the Keep ran to get rid of the sickening symbol

He took only one step up the Iron Throne, he only needed the one, he turn around, to meet the council of traitors and cowards 

“Where is she?”, he asked out loud

“Where is who, my lord?”, asked Corlys Velaryon

“Where is the Queen?”, his voice resounded en the entire Throne Room

taglist! <3

@lyannesworld @unlesshouse @mxtokko

[the-desilittle-bird]

AN- I am back after my long writer block. Here is a little preference for you all...

Requests are Open and Well Appreciated!

Thank you and Enjoy your reading.

HOTD Preferences

You Are a Foreign Deligate

Characters - Daemon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Otto Hightower, Corlys Velaryon, Cregan Stark and Criston Cole

Warnings - Angst for Criston (given that he is a King's Guard)

Daemon 'Rogue Prince' Targaryen

You are a visiting foreign delegate from the Free Cities and went to Westeros in order to establish good relations between the two places.

You and Daemon met far too later after your arrival.

You met the King's brother during the feast held in order to honour the new relations; and you were the guest of honour for the evening.

His long hair of silver catch your eyes and you were enchanted by his looks.

Viserys was the one to introduce you and you two hit it almost instantly.

While you were completely spellbound by his voice, Daemon found your intelligence extremely eye-catching.

At the end of the evening, if the prince feels quite giving, you will be spared a rare dance or two.

Or you would be sharing a cup or two of wine with him, in his room or in some tavern of Flea Bottom.

It is safe to say that he becomes obsessed with you till the end of your trip.

One fine morning, a few days before your departure back to Essos, you are informed that you will return to your place; but with an extra person.

Your marriage to Daemon was shipped on the point of strengthening the alliance, but everyone knew better...

Aemond 'One-Eyed' Targaryen

You were from Qarth and were sent by the Thirteen to secure a safe trade route. It was during the time when the King was disappointingly sick and the Queen and Hand of the King held the throne in his stead.

It was the time of extreme peace, every person in the harbour discussed quietly.

You were quite excited but also extremely nervous. You wondered what would happen if you failed to complete the task given to you.

You met the young prince when he received you at the port of King's Landing.

Despite his quietness, you were completely mesmerized by his commanding aura and killer looks.

It takes long period of time of observing you from a far on Aemond's part before he decides to talk to you.

The talk would start formally before he starts asking you about your country.

The entire conversation would be pleasant and you would be smitten at the end.

Maybe even fantasizing a life with him.

You two would met during the Council meets where Alicent makes him sit with his drunken brother. No wonder that Aegon will flirt and will end up being punched by Aemond.

A few days later, expect the One-Eyed Prince proposing you in the name of 'a way to strengthen the bonds'.

Otto 'Hand of the King' Hightower

This man has lost his wife and has plenty of kids, while you are a young and bright assistant of sorts to the visiting delegate.

You are feisty and know your way around the formalities well.

Otto notices you when you punch one of his family's knight after the knight made some comment on you.

Even though he was clear to show his disappointment to you, he kept the interest brimming in him inside his head.

Suddenly, he asks for your opinion and sometimes, catches you on your walk around the garden.

The Queen also warms up to you, surprisingly, and invites you to tea.

While you like the attention, you are confused.

And hence, you confront him.

Otto is nervous as heck. And starts blabbering along the lines of 'I know that you might not like me...' and 'We are born ages apart...'

And as much as you found him enduring, you wanted for him to shut up.

And so, you slam your lips to his.

Corlys 'Sea Snake' Velaryon

You aren't exactly a delegate but more of his friend who knows the rules of the sea.

You arrive at Westeros with him and are ushered quickly to the Small Council's chamber in order to discuss a safe route for trading.

You were quick to realize that no one in the Council knew about the pirates or literally any other threats of sea.

You were ready to interrupt the Hand of the King but before you could, the Sea Snake does.

You are surprised by his understanding of the sea.

When Corlys is done, he settles back into his seat with a smirk as his eyes find yours.

He approaches you later after the meeting is over and you two end up flirting quite a lot.

Days pass with both of you sharing your experiences.

And you end up kissing him one fine day after having enough of his teasings.

He was smug about it. But at last, ends up proposing you.

And you two end up marrying on the shores of Driftmark with only a few close friends.

Cregan 'Wolf of the North' Stark

The Lord of Winterfell was surprised to receive a raven informing him to prepare for the arrival of the king and a foreign delegate from Meereen.

That was quite unusual, but Cregan could done nothing to object.

When you arrive alongside the King, he was left completely spellbound.

Your wits and broad thoughts intrigue and so does your beauty.

Also, you aren't afraid of drinking with the vassal lords or dancing with the common ladies.

At end of a fortnight, he is completely and utterly in love with you. And you do notice.

But you wait for him to approach you.

But you hadn't expected a marriage proposal at the very beginning.

That is when you decide to approach him for a conversation.

The entire conversation was pleasant.

And at the end you decide to accept the proposal.

Criston 'Kingmaker' Cole

You notice him first when you met the Queen and you were completely infatuated, to be honest.

But your first ever conversation happened days after, on a feast.

You weren't quite accustomed to loud celebrations and quietly slips out of there unnoticed.

You see him there and somehow gather the courage to make small talks to him.

You find him a man of great morals, even if they were twisted in their own way.

That conversation sparked the flames of love in Criston's cold heart.

You try to keep whatever it is between you two a secret, given his position as a member of King's Guard.

And soon, the day for you to leave came.

You had asked him to come with you, only for him to reason with you.

At last, you part ways, grieving whatever you had.

Doubting whether it was even true.

[violetastridhotd]

Lawful v. Moral/Team Black v. Team Green

Rant incoming. (This is Fire and Blood centric, not HotD centric, but most of it applies to both)

So, I have always been a firm Rhaenyra supporter for the Dance. And for a long time, I couldn't understand how people could legit be "Team Green" outside of liking individual characters or their portrayal. And then I realized:

Team Black has a moral mentality and Team Green has a lawful mentality. Follow me here.

Rhaenyra and Aegon both have legitimate claims to the throne by birth and by law. So, we essentially have an ethical dilemma on our hands. With many ethical dilemmas, the "right" solution is based on an individual's perception of morality.

(Example of Lawful thinking v. Moral thinking: You catch a woman stealing food to feed her children. Do you put her in prison (she broke the law) or do you let her go (because letting children starve is immoral)? Also, please note this is purposefully a simplistic example.)

In Defense of Team Green:

The biggest argument for Team Green is "They weren't wrong. Jace, Luke, and Joff were literal bastards. Rhaenyra was trying to trick everyone by passing off bastards as true-born heirs."

And this is facts. Rhaenyra is committing high treason for having an affair and passing off her bastards as legitimate. As far as the law is concerned, this is a black and white issue. It doesn't matter she was Viserys' favorite. It didn't matter that Corlys and Rhaenys didn't care. None of it mattered because Rhaenyra didn't even try to hide her affair or even have the decency to make sure the father had features similar to her husband. What Rhaenyra did was not only high treason, but the fact that she wasn't careful about keeping it a secret because she knew Viserys would turn a blind eye, made it all the more offensive.

Especially to Otto, who relied on the strict laws of the court to enact his plan to obtain power. Especially to Alicent, who was a victim of these strict laws as a woman who "did her duty." Especially to Aegon and Aemond who were ignored no matter what they did in favor of their sister. Rhaenyra's actions were a huge, cruel middle finger to everyone on Team Green (except Otto, but fuck him).

In Defense of Team Black:

For the good of the realm, Rhaenyra needed to have that affair.

Hear. Me. Out.

The alliance between House Velaryon and House Targaryen was the Big Picture Problem, not who would sit the Iron Throne. Now, we have to remember that Corlys married Rhaenys while her father was still alive and it was assumed that she was going to be the next Queen. This is important.

When Rhaenys was passed over for Baelon for heir, Corlys was pissed. When the Great Council chose Viserys over Rhaenys/Laenor, he was pissed. When Viserys married Alicent instead of Laena, pissed again. Now, Corlys being upset is Not Good. Corlys has the largest naval fleet at this point. It is made clear several times that repeatedly pissing off Corlys is not the move to be making because he was rich, powerful, and had an entire fleet (and two dragons) and could make things very difficult for King's Landing if he felt frisky.

Cue Rhaenyra and Laenor getting married. Corlys no longer has a reason to beef with House Targaryen. Laenor will sit the Iron Throne. House Velaryon will now be tired directly to the Iron Throne and will practically be unstoppable. Team Viserys v. Team Rhaenys no longer matters because the two lines are coming together as a power couple.

And then Rhaenyra and Laenor struggle to conceive (which, as far as Fire and Blood is concerned, I fully believe Jacaerys is Laenor's son, but that is a whole other rant). This is a problem. If Laenor can't have children (because he's gay, infertile, etc), then that means his marriage to Rhaenyra needs to be annulled.

(In Fire and Blood, Alicent wanted to marry Rhaenyra to Aegon. Viserys denied it to keep the Hightowers from getting on the throne. If Rhaenyra's marriage with Laenor falls apart, Alicent would have pushed hella hard for her to marry Aegon)

Rhaenyra was either the heir to the Iron Throne, or she was a valuable bargaining chip for the heir. She would not be allowed to remain in a unfruitful marriage. If their marriage is annulled...we are back at square one. House Velaryon is powerful and pissed off for the fourth time. There was a very real possibility that shit would go down between House Velaryon and House Targaryen.

Conclusion

The Dance of Dragons is an ethical dilemma and no one is right or wrong. And that is the whole damn point.

So don't be weird and have such intense, Twilight-esque, beef with each other. I'd love it if the TB v. TG could be fun like Team Valor v. Team Mystic discourse, but some of ya'll really try to make one side right and the other wrong, one side morally superior and the other moral degenerates, and its super cringe.

[my-on-and-off-writingstuff]

A Soft Smile | Daemon x reader

Summary: The battle in the Stepstones left Daemon Targaryen wounded and a fever strikes. Corlys Velaryon had sent for a gifted healer who immediately catches the eye of a certain prince when he wakes up.

Warnings: none I think

Disclaimer: I have not written a piece of fanfiction in years so it might be absolute shite. in addition to that I have a form of dyslexia and english is not my first language so in advance my condolences for poorly written sentences, wrong grammar and spelling. I just wanted to write some fluf for Daemon. (I hope I did not make him too much out of character

He came by to a voice singing a song he did not know. However the language of the song was quite familiar. With a groan he opened his eyes to immediately close then again due to the bright light. The singing transition into a hum and moved away from him. He tried again this time succeeding. His eyes were filtering the room towards your figure standing over a table grinding some herbs by the looks of it.

“How do you know High Valyrian?” His voice was a little more unsteady and raspy then he would have liked but it did its job. “King of the Stepstones you are awake.” You had turned around from your previous occupation and gifted him a soft smile. He was taken away with your beauty but also curious about you all the same. It was clear that you had taken care of his wounds as they were bandaged and he smelled like a field of herbs.

You helped him sit upright and with a wet cloth dabbed the sweat of his forehead. He frowned at the gesture almost ready to grab the cloth as he was not a babe, but he also relinquished in the soft touches of your hands, the light feathering touches and the soft smile that had lasted on your lips. “Here my lord.” You handed him a cup of a fool smelling mixture and encouraged him to drink it. “Gods women are you trying to poison me?” A soft giggle came from your lips and enthralled he looked at you. “No milord of course not, it’s a mixture of herbs and water, it’s not the tastiest but it will help with getting your strength back from the fever.”

Fever? “How long was I out for?” He asked before knocking back the drink like it was the wine from the pubs in flea bottom. “Not more than two days my lord, Lord Corlys Velaryon has sent for me right away.” Even though he was not aware of what the potion exactly was for he started to guess when his eyes started to drop. Not wanting to yet return to an unconscious state he concentrated his full attention on to you. Trying to still his curiosity as much before he had to give in.

“So little dove you did not answer my question, how is it that you know high Valerian?” For a moment it looked like you were going to ignore his question. The soft smile that had adored your lips the entire time disappeared for just a moment before returning only to not reach your eyes this time. “I learned it from my father.” Ah so his little bird was well educated. As some nobles learned their children various degrees of High Valerian although none of them ever reached the ability you had.

“If my lord does not mind can I check his wound on his back? I have not really had the change to look it over as I could not get you to move on my own.” She politely asked diverting her eyes from his own not caring to elaborate further on how she knew the language only so few knew. He snorted amused. “Are you calling me fat little one?” He ignored the pain in his shoulder and pressed his fingers underneath your chin forcing you to look at him. Your cheeks heated under his graze something he found irresistible and to be fueling his growing obsession with you. “Of course not my lord I only meant to not bring you any discomfort.” He jested further finding it almost hard not to do. “So you ignored my wounds in favor of my comfort.” You had now caught on to his jests a playful glint noticeable in your eyes. “You are the prince after all.”

“Ah Some mere minutes ago I was a king.” Referring to when you had called him the king of the Stepstones. He repressed a yawn but not without you noticing. you lightly pressed on his shoulder to move him forwards so you could check out the bandage on his back. “King or prince it matters little if you are dead.” You shrugged at him little impressed with him it seemed. “So you do wish me dead? I knew you made me drink poison.” “My lord, if i was out to kill you I would have done it sooner to save me the hassle of bringing you back from the fever.” He smiled at your words finding it hard to remember the last time someone so innocently and carefree had spoken to him. “Daemon Targaryen.” You looked up at him confused. “I know who you are lord, did you hit your head?” You hovered over him wanting to check his head for any bumps fearing you had missed something.

He grasped the your hand before it could make contact with the back of his head. “Not that I am aware of but I want you to call me Daemon” he kissed your hand and heard you take a sharp intake of breath. “None of that my lord nonsense either.” He added before letting go of your hand. Again the heat rushed to your cheeks and he smiled pleased with himself. “If that is what you want Daemon.” His names rolled of your tongue like sweet honey and he found a smile of his own tugging at his lips. “And what do I call you little healer?” You starred at your hand which was still in his and he made use of that opportunity to pull you on the bed he was laying on. Your eyes met his before you answered aware of the connection between the two of you. “Y/N” no last name but he would get your story from you another time. At this point he was barely keeping his eyes open. “Well little witch of mine it seemed a proper thank you for saving my life is in order.” He tugged you even closer to him. Surprised by the movement your free hand moved to his chest stabilizing yourself.

He moved forwards and captured your lips in a soft kiss. A pre taste for what was to come. He softly bit your lower lip before drawing backwards. Your body moved instinctively forwards when the contact between two if you broke and he smiled at the sight of that. Oh yes you were going to be fun. Woken up from the trance like state his kiss has brought you in you glanced at the tent opening before making your way of the bed. The place where your hand has rested suddenly felt cold. With cheeks still flushed you made your way to the opening. “Sleep now Daemon I will let lord Corlys Velaryon know you are awake.”  He tiredly blinked before nodding. You turned around to go find Lord Corlys but his voice interrupted once more. “Promise you will be back when I wake up little one?” You once more turned around to the sleepily prince who now had his eyes closed. “I will be there when you wake up.” She promised him. Even with his eyes closed he smiled once more at her. You were quickly becoming his new little obsession.

___

Part two!

[sunnyie-eve]

8. Secession

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Series: Devious Opportunity

Pairing: (Aegon II Targaryen x Cousin! OFC Targaryen!)

Word Count: 1.5k

Notes: Incest, death, betroth offers, Aegon being giggly

| MASTERLIST |

The next day everyone gathers in the throne room to discuss the succession. As Rhaenyra, Daemon, the girls, and the boys enter the room walking to the front, Aegon looks over at her trying to hold back his smile.

"Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the secession of Driftmark." Otto starts off, "As Hand, I speak with the King's voice on this and all other matters." He adds taking a seat on the throne, "The crown will now hear the petitions.

Ser Vaemond goes first saying while Targaryen's ruled the skies, Velaryon's ruled the seas. That true unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through his veins. Rhaenyra says it's the same for her sons but Alicent cuts her off saying it wasn't her turn to speak.

Aegon sees the look she gave Alicent making him slightly smiling loving how she got when she started to get pissed with someone. He thought the little look she always gave was cute. She then gives him a look catching him so he nods his head as an apology.

When it was Rhaenyra's turn as she stepped forward the doors open to show Viserys showing up even at his worst for his daughter. Celeste could tell Rhaenyra was shocked but grateful while the Hightowers and Vaemond were just in shock.

Slowly but surely, Viserys made it to the throne and Daemon helped his brother up the steps taking a seat before going back to his spot. "I must... admit... my confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession." He starts, "The only present who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys's wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.

She goes to speak saying that his wishes were to pass to his son's true-born son Lucerys and his mind never changed nor her support to him. She even adds that Rhaenyra informed her that she desires her sons to marry Baela and Rhaena. And that she agrees to the proposal given to her.

Celeste can't help but look over to the other side getting upset at what was being said making her smile a bit. With Aegon watching her, he smiles a bit too as they make eye contact.

With Viserys saying the matter was settled with Luke being heir to Drifmsark, Vaemond starts to snap, "That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine."

"Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you... are no more than the second son of Driftmark." Viserys tells him and Celeste covers her mouth from laughing as Damon gives her a look.

"You...may run your house as you see fit... but you will not decide the future of mine." Vaemond starts to shake in anger, "My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned... I will not see it ended on the account of this-,"

"Say it." Daemon tells him wanting him to say it.

Vaemond looks at him for a good few seconds, "Her children... are bastards!" He shouts pissing off Viserys, Daemon, and Jace while Celeste holds Luke's arm as he looks concerned, "And she...is...a whore."

"I...will have your tongue for that." Viserys gets up but Daemon uses his sword slicing the top of his head off from behind.

Helaena covers her ears as Alicent turns her away, Aemond steps back shocked, Aegon made a disgusted face just like Celeste did, Luke had a shocked face, Jace had no reaction, and Rhaenyra, Rhaenys, and Baela were also a bit surprised.

"He can keep his tongue." Daemon looks down at the body.

"Disarm him!" Otto yells so guards pull out their swords.

"No need." Daemon says calmly stepping back as he did want he needed to do was over with.

The King starts to feel worse after everything and is helped out of the throne room. They start to have everyone else leave so they could clean up Vaemond's body to take away. Walking out Celeste and Aegon ends up beside each other but don't say anything to each other since Otto was right behind them. They could basically feel his eyes on them. Before walking out the door, Celeste secretly slips a note into Aegon's hand without Otto seeing.

Once he was alone he read the note that was saying to go by her room because the girls wanted to see him again. All morning they had been asking for him wanting to play. Celeste didn't understand why they specifically wanted Aegon but she told them maybe later he'll play.

"What is that?" Helaena walks up behind him.

"Nothing." He hides it.

"For Celeste, isn't it?" She smiles a bit, "If anyone looks for you, I'll say you went off somewhere wanting to be alone." She tells him.

"You'll do that?"

"Go see them." She says knowing about the twins from her dreams.

He was going to ask her more about what she said but she was already wandering off from him, "Thank you!" He shouts to her rushing off to his room to go see the three.

Getting to her room he makes a little noise to let her know he was there and hears her say it was just them so he goes in. "Helaena said she'll cover for me. She knew about the girls. Did you tell her?"

"I didn't tell her. Maybe she knows because she probably a dreamer." Celeste says knowing about them from story's Rhaenyra told her about.

"What?" He asks confused not knowing a thing about it.

"Some dragonriders can be dreamers. It's a type of prophetic dream or vision experienced by some individuals of Valyrian descent." She gives him a short summary.

"Is that why she says odd things at times?"

"Probably," She agrees, "The handmaids said she'll be waking up soon." She lets him know about Astraea sleeping while she held Dahlia who was still sleepy.

"I'm not surprised my father showed up for Rhaenyra. I was hoping he would actually because the Hand wouldn't let Luke keep his inheritance." Aegon goes to take a seat on the sofa.

"Speaking of Rhaenyra... She told me before I went to bed last night. You said she'll make a good Queen." Celeste follows taking a seat as well. As soon as she sat down, Dahlia left her lap going over to Aegon so he could hold her.

He chuckled picking her up, "I did and we made amends as well." He tells her as Dahlia cuddles into him falling back to sleep, "Our talk was nice. For the first time ever we were siblings. I did not know how much I needed that from her. Her words helped me think about some things."

"I'm glad to hear such a thing. Mostly on your half." She tells him as Astraea wakes up.

"You're here!" She runs over to Aegon causing him to laugh quietly because of Dahlia.

"I'll put her back in bed." Celeste gets up taking her from him.

"Your mommy tells me you and Dahlia wanted me to play with you girls?" He leans forward with a smile talking to her and she nods her head quickly, "Let's play then." She grabs his hand leading him over to her toys.

Celeste was surprised by how well Aegon was with Astraea but then again he was still very childish himself. He proved that in the way he played with the dragon figures making noises for them.

After sometime there was a knock at the door as it starts to open Otto announces himself to let her know before coming in all the way. As soon as Aegon heard his voice he rushed to hide in the room.

"Yes?" Celeste turns to face him as Astraea gets up making her way over to where Aegon hid.

He puts his finger over his mouth to tell her to be quiet making her giggle. Otto looks over in the direction but he couldn't see due to the panel blocking the bed area where Aegon was hiding in a corner next to a cabinet.

"She often does that. Running away from strangers giggling." Celeste lies, "You came for?" She asks.

"The King has requested that tonight the family all eats together. Of course, excluding the younger ones."

"Thank you for letting me know." She smiles hoping he would hurry up and leave.

"Mommy, tell Aegon to come play." Astraea walks over with a pout making both her parents curse in their heads. "Not long ago, Jace and I were taking about everyone's reaction to what happened with Vaemond. She must have heard his name. Anytime she hears a new name she wants to play with that said person." Celeste makes up another lie on the spot, "Especially when she doesn't know that person."

Otto nods his head, "Speaking of my grandson, have you seen him around?"

"Not since we left the throne room." She lies, "I don't have much time to wonder about the Red Keep. My priorities are my daughters."

He says he understands before leaving her so Aegon comes out of hiding, "Some help you were." He grabs Astraea picking her up spinning around with her causing her to giggle.

[importantchaosgiver]

The Griffin And The Dragon:

The Announcement

Summary: Never had (Y/N) been called to a meeting in King's Landing. And what further shocked her was to see her father there. But she never anticipated what came next...

Warnings: Swearing

******

No One's POV

Never in the Seven Hells did (Y/N) expect this. Even Alcatrax was surprised. "Father? What are you doing here?" she asked, beyond confused and surprised to see Maximus and his griffin land in the courtyard. Maximus chuckled, putting his hands on his daughter's shoulders. "You shall see soon, my daughter. Tis a happy day," he said with a bright smile before walking inside. She was just stunned, turning to look at her father's griffin, who raised its wings in a 'I don't know either' fashion.

"You are being oddly illusive, father," (Y/N) said, jogging to catch up with him. "I am not. Can I not be happy to see my daughter?" Maximus asked with a smile. "No, however you still have not said why you are here," she stated. He just gave her a mischievous grin, a playful glint in his eyes. "You shall see soon," he chuckled, walking off. She was just left there, beyond confused and surprised. What was her father planning? More importantly, why was he being so secretive?

Then, Rhaenyra approached (Y/N). "My lady, the king is asking for you to be in attendance to the meeting happening today," she said. What is it today with surprises? Why was she being asked to attend a meeting? Had something bad happened? Was that why her father was here? (Y/N) cleared her throat, smoothing down her skirt before heading to the council chambers, her heart pounding against her ribcage. When she entered the council chambers, she noticed her father sat at the table, smiling away. Lords Corlys Velaryon and Otto Hightower were also confused to see the King of Concordia there amongst some other lords of the council. (Y/N) stood near her father, who gave her a reassuring nod. Beside Otto stood Alicent Hightower and Rhaenyra stood off to the side. Alicent glanced at the Princess of Concordia and was praying for good news. She was a woman grown, beautiful and from what she had heard, had a good heart. If this is what she anticipated it to be, she hoped she would be staying out of it. Otto, however, was (metaphorically speaking) on the edge of his seat. Viserys stood. "I have decided to take a new wife," he said. (Y/N) froze. Oh, that. Could this have anything to do with that kiss? No, it couldn't be, right? It was a need the Seven Kingdoms had been awaiting for. But, then why was her father here?

She noticed Viserys glance and Rhaenyra who gave him a reassuring smile and subtle nod. Maximus reached back and held his daughter's hand to ease her nerves and confusion. "I intend to marry..." Viserys began. In the corner of her eye, (Y/N) saw Otto smirk a little. Odd. But his eyes looked at her with a hint of distain. She held her breath, as Alicent nervously fiddled with her fingers, her breathing noticeably shallow. "Princess (Y/N) Arcane, before Spring's End," Viserys said. Many things happened in the dead silence that followed. Maximus nodded with a gentle smile, looking at his daughter. Otto and Corlys both looked shocked and even slightly angry. Alicent looked beyond relieved. Rhaenyra smiled at her father. Lords of the court all nodded in agreement and (Y/N), well, she had to take a moment to process these words. Viserys wished to marry her? Her?!

"Excuse me, my lords, your grace," she whispered, leaving briskly, walking away until she was in the gardens and sat on a bench. What the actual fuck?! Sure, she felt something for Viserys. But it all became surreal. She was to become his wife. Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms. Not only that, but bear children for him. It felt like all her future responsibilities for the throne of Concordia vanished and returned with ten times as much weight. "Apologies if I have offended you, my lady," Viserys said, walking up to her after about ten minutes.

She jumped at the sound of his voice as he took a seat beside her. "You haven't offended me, your grace. I am just rather... surprised," she whispered with a weak smile. Viserys gave a small soft smile. "I understand. But, you are the best candidate. You are beautiful, kind and caring. Not only that, you are strong," he said gently, putting a hand on her arm carefully. All (Y/N) did was nod, the news still quite a shock to her. "And, I fear I would be a fool to dismiss you. When my heart beats so fast when you are near. I cannot forget the way your lips felt upon mine," he whispered, gently stroking her jaw. She took a quick breath. She would be lying if she said she hadn't felt the same. But, could she do it? Could she be a queen and mother? It seems fate may take a different turn for our dear king and the land of Westeros. What shall we make of it? Only time will tell...

******

Sorry it took so long to post, I had a bit of writers block. But I am back and ready once again. I am still thinking of the plot as it progresses, so please bear that in mind. Now, question time: Should I or should I not write a smut? I don't know if I should or if I should just insinuate it. I hope you enjoy this. Sorry if it is a bit short.

[theliliesofthevalley]

Driftwood ༄

♖Alicent Hightower x f!reader

Summary: As King Viserys draws his last breath, tensions rise among factions in court as each side scrambles for support. As the secret paramour of Queen Alicent Hightower, y/n Hill is summoned to Alicent's chambers for her support.

Category: Angst

Footsteps grow louder and louder as the doors are blown open and a silver-haired woman walks through.

"You called?" Y/n said, catching her breath as she ran to Alicent's chambers.

Alicent ran into her arms as she smelled the familiar scent of seawater stuck onto y/n's clothes, calming her already rising nerves. As their bodies unraveled, y/n looked down at Alicent's hands as she saw torn skin and fresh scabs along her cuticles. Frowning, she brought Alicent's hands to her soft lips as she laid a chaste kiss upon her knuckles.

Since they were just teenagers, Y/n and Alicent had an unbreakable bond as Viserys had Y/n serve as one of Alicent's handmaidens. Due to her father's manipulation, her marriage to King Viserys deeply strained the relationship between Rhaenyra and Alicent, and y/n was the only one to truly stand by her side. Both bonded over their father's ambitions to one day have their kin on the iron throne.

"What has troubled your mind, my love?" y/n softly whispered.

"The king has died," Alicent murmured, "the maesters have confirmed it."

Y/n remained silent as she ungrasped her hand, "go on?"

"The iron throne remains vacant, with Rhaenyra on Dragonstone, Aegon can take the throne," she says, "Father says to strike now."

Y/n remained silent as she crossed her arms, "I cannot take part in this."

"What do you mean?" Alicent says, "If Aegon is crowned, I can have him legitimize you as a true Velaryon."

Thanks to Corlys and his extended stay in the free cities, he brought back a silver-haired Velaryon bastard clutched in his arms as he docked on Driftmark's harbors. Forever known as Y/n Hull, her Valyrian looks remained one of her most striking features as people and nobles from across the seven kingdoms were enchanted by her ethereal beauty. Alicent couldn't even deny Y/n's beauty had rivaled that of the realm's delight.

Those last two words struck a nerve in y/n's body. How could she, for years, openly bash the two young princes as bastards when she, the queen's secret lover, is a bastard herself? The hypocrisy in her very words upset Y/n as she cleared her throat.

"What about Princes Jacerys and Lucerys?"

"I've told you for years and years that they are not your brother's children! Look at them! Look at you!" Alicent shouted, "They're bastards! Your hairs aren't even the same!"

"They are my family! My blood!" Y/n grew angered, "Assuming their legitimacy based on the color of their hair, this is ridiculous Alicent! I will not have my nephews usurped and their birthrights snatched from them."

Frustrated, Alicent gripped y/n by the collar of her shirt, "By my command, you will no longer be Y/n Hill, you will be Y/n Velaryon. I will have Aegon label you as the next heir of Driftmark, the last of Corlys's kin. I will have your other siblings found and dealt with to ensure this."

Anger boiled in y/n's eyes as she ripped off Alicent's hands from her shirt, "You're not the woman I loved years ago."

A moment of uncomfortable silence filled the room as they stared at each other, unable to muster a response.

Tears rolled down her porcelain cheeks as Alicent's lips quivered, "Y/n, please, just think about this, about us," Alicent begged, "don't let this break us apart."

"I won't have you question my loyalty to the princess. from now on, I don't want my name uttered from your lips."

Y/n turns as she makes her way out of the room, not even batting an eye at her broken lover.

"If you step out of this room, I swear by the seven, I will have you labeled as a traitor to the crown," Alicent sobbed.

Without a word, y/n continued on as Alicent was left crying, the green garments donning her body were soaked in tears that tasted like the salty waters from raging oceans. Her lover, the one that stuck by her side when Rhaenyra turned the other cheek, who held her hand when she labored her four children and gave them the love their father couldn't provide, was forever gone.

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

credits: dividers by @v6que

[ladystarksneedle]

Greedy

Summary: A lady at sea finds warmth amidst its endless waters.

Warnings: angst, mentions of voyeurism, infidelity, period typical sexism and misogyny, derogatory language, rumor mongering, slight canon divergence.

Word count: 7.5k

Dividers by @saradika

She clawed at the threads in her lap, entangling them for the third time as her husband droned on about the costs of war. There were ramparts, fortifications and more men needed at Tarth to stop the incursion of the Triarchy that he spoke of, agitating himself further as he paced before her, taking her absent minded humming in response to be borne out of interest. The “War of the Stepstones" as it had come to be known, was the newest point of conversation throughout the realm from the Blackwater to the Bay of Crabs, with every household eager to contribute their share of mockery, awe or support. The Valyrians, she thought, had always managed to entrench everyone in their affairs.

Sadly she hadn't found an inch of interest in the one before her.

She had been delivered to Claw Isle almost a year ago, packaged rather gaudily in fabrics of silk and gold, to be unwrapped by the lord of salty seas and misty air. He'd torn in rather clumsily, mistaking haste for pleasure, like a crab feasting at her shore, yet no tears came to her, all the salt had seemingly washed away before she'd entered Crackclaw point. The castle stood surprisingly tall, jutting out of the small island located to the south of Dragonstone, close enough to hear the roars of the beasts of long forgotten might and far enough to be sheltered from their unexpected wrath. She'd often look out her window, imagining what they'd look like, though a year had passed and she had yet to catch a glimpse of them. Some of the locals claimed they'd seen one, a “gray ghost” they'd called it, as elusive as the fog lining the seas, scaring away the fishermen trying to make their catch for the day. They were baseless rumors to her, all the same, recited idly at tea by the ladies of the Point, when they'd run out of their keepsake of slanders. Dragons to her were beasts of myth and true as they might be, posed no consequence to her life, until now.

“Prince Daemon has assembled an army of ten thousand men with Lord Corlys Velaryon. It would be folly to not join such an endeavor.”

“You mean to join the war?” she asked incredulously “We hardly have the numbers.”

“If those shipping lanes fall it affects us all dear wife or have you not been paying attention.”

“I have, husband” she huffed “But decisions made in haste cost dearly. Claw Isle boasts enough wealth to tide us through this predicament without meriting involvement, as you've proclaimed countless times yourself, why then should we waste our men and resources?”

“You're a woman Belinda and as witty as you might be, you do not understand the consequences of uninvolvement. Tarth may very well be under siege as we speak” he remarked.

“And what has the King to say for this expedition undertaken by his brother, I doubt it is with his full consent, ten thousand men seems quite less of a number for a royal army does it not?” she replied back “But yes you're right, I'm just a woman, what would I know about numbers when it is your forte dear husband. I shall leave you to your accounts in peace” she said as she left his chambers with a swift peck to his cheek, quick to evade his reply.

“You must learn when to keep your mouth shut daughter, the ability to do so shall last you long” her mother's words were tight around her neck, a noose waiting to throttle her should she stray too far and though she hadn't managed to keep her wayward tongue in check, she'd found out soon enough that scraps of affection meted out at opportune moments often did the trick.

Dinner proved to be less in her favor. Bartimos was ever eager in spirit, having invited the lords of the neighboring keeps to convene on pretext of merriment. While she sat drinking with the ladies whispering animatedly amongst themselves at the other end of the hall, she realized just how hard headed he could really be. Perhaps her mother was right and there was still more to learn.

“Have you heard the tales of Lady Swann? It is such a tragedy. I've heard she's been sold to a pillow house in Lys”

“She was always a wild one, I've heard. I'm sure she'll do just fine there” chirped Lady Crabb, ever the glutton at any such occasion.

“You have quite the tongue Lady Crabb, you must learn to hold it lest you earn the likeness of the Crabfeeder himself” snickered another.

“Perhaps he styles himself after your own lord husband” remarked Lady Brunes, her fellow at arms of wit.

“Jest all you want ladies, but there is some truth to it. My husband was knighted at the mere age of four and ten, how many of yours can claim such laurels. It will be him who'll bring glory back to Crackclaw point and you'll be all the fools for it” huffed Lady Crabb clawing at the pearls around her neck.

Being the youngest among them had its merits in times like these. Despite being the hostess she was seldom asked her opinions, merely considered to be in accordance with the consensus they reached as the wine dried up and their husbands returned to eagerly escort them back home. Feasts in the Crownlands often had one way of ending, with most of them on their backs. As the bed creaked below her, she realized her’s would be a happy one. Sweaty and sated, she lay next to him as he struggled to catch his breath, exhausting himself to fruition this once. Bartimos seemed to outperform whenever he had a point to make, in matters that required more convincing on his part. She only wished they were more in number and came more often.

“We shall leave for Driftmark in three days' time” he said as he turned to sleep, blowing off the candles near them. “It is a good thing Belinda, you'll come to realize soon enough. You'll even get to see those dragons you've been so curious about.”

“They do not interest me as much as you think” she thought “But if admitting to it makes you more amiable in bed I might as well go set up camp there, husband” she pondered as she drifted off to sleep dreaming of distant roars and crashing waves engrossed in a hazy tussle of their own.

Driftmark proved to be a much grander island. They'd sailed for a day to get there, bypassing Dragonstone on the way. The captain of their ship had pointed it out, a black speck of monstrous rock jutting out from the coast, with a multitude of deep rumbles reverberating through the masts, as they had sailed past. It felt ominous and rather insidious, intriguing enough for her to want to halt and explore for the first time since they'd left, but her husband wished for no time to be wasted and ordered them to sail ahead. High Tide shone bright under the sun as they'd arrived, its pale stone greeting them in a stark contrast to the home of their Valyrian overlords. The Castle was said to have been newly built by Lord Corlys with all the wealth he'd amassed on his nine voyages, its turrets gleaming haughtily at them with their beaten silver tops. They'd been ushered in shortly, with their infantry in tow to the “Hall of Nine” in attendance before him as he sat atop the Driftwood Throne.

“We welcome you to High Tide, Lord Bartimos. The support of the Celtigars, in these trying times is much appreciated” he boomed.

“Thank you for your graciousness Lord Corlys” he smiled as she fidgeted near him.

“Perhaps your lady wife would like to rest as we get to the matter at hand, the journey would have been quite tiring for those not accustomed to it” he said as she was ushered away to the depths of the Castle by one of the Velaryon ladies nearby.

“Princess Rhaenys shall receive you my lady, please follow me. I am Daena, cousin to Corlys in case you're wondering. We have assembled here to convene on our own council” she stated, leading her up the winding stairs to a hall overlooking the Bay. At its head sat none other than the lady of the manor, Rhaenys Targaryen, a tall woman with a welcoming smile in tow “Lady Celtigar so good of you to join us, welcome to High Tide.”

There were more than a dozen ladies in the room who turned to look at her, the Velaryons with their teal dresses and silver locks, a few from Crackclaw point that she recognised immediately, ladies Crabb and both the Brunes, of Dyre Den and Brownhollow, ladies Bar Emmon and Staunton and a few stromlanders judging by the intricate braids on their heads who greeted her in response. Lady Daena led her to her seat as they resumed speaking, each advocating for their preferred course of action. As she observed their leader at the head of the table listening intently to each prompt she wondered why a dragon rider such as her wasn't involved in the affairs of the main council. Noticing her inquisitive stare she turned to address them once again “We have dragons and they are more than sufficient to weed this Crabfeeder out of his cave. My son Laenor shall be joining Prince Daemon, leading from above though your support at both sea and ground is much appreciated. We shall soon be rid of this menace together” she spoke with pride. “We've hosted a feast tonight as an inauguration of our joint partnership. Please rest, explore and enjoy your stay before we meet again ” she concluded.

The beaches of Driftmark were a true wonder, she thought as she strolled along unbothered by the sand coating her stockings. They were unlike Claw Isle, with white sand stretching endlessly surrounded by pristine blue waters, secluded and picturesque. “Could wealth be used to acquire such beauty? Perhaps Lord Corlys’ expeditions had played a part in shaping the sea before her too” she considered enjoying her solitude. Her path soon led her to a hut, nestled away surrounded by a bed of grass, small enough to be overlooked, making her walk towards it, observing its peculiar vantage point overlooking the sea. As she passed through the rickety gate, she heard shuffling inside before coming across a man leaning against one of the posts. His eyes lit up as she came into view, trailing over her, before a smirk etched itself onto his face.

“Well Hello” he drawled lazily.

“Apologies my lord I didn't know someone was here” she replied hastily.

“Do you often walk into other's properties at will, my lady?” he inquired mockingly.

“I considered it abandoned” she flushed. “I was merely curious”

“Hmm” he said, appraising her “It is not safe to be wandering these waters alone, considering the threat that looms ahead”

“But I am not alone” she quipped back.

He chuckled as he made his way towards her.

“And what a sharp tongue you've got there. It would be a shame if that were the only weapon at your disposal”

“I don't think it wise for you to want to find out” she replied, standing her ground.

His smirk widened as he brushed past her, leaning down to whisper into the shell of her ear “Welcome to Driftmark my lady, your claws do you justice.”

Evening couldn't arrive fast enough. Her encounter with the man at the beach left her more shaken once she came to realize who he was. Bartimos spoke of the surprising absence of Prince Daemon from their war council, baffled as he dressed in haste. She merely shook her head in response, finding the lord or rather the prince she'd met, to be all the more intriguing. Dinner proved to be a lavish affair with an assortment of opulence. Dishes of roasted duck glazed with honey adorned the plates before them, along with sardines and roasted tomatoes coated with fennel and saffron. There were freshly picked cherries and apricots, apple and cinnamon pies and a heap of lemon cakes being passed around the hall, along with overflowing cups of Dornish red mocking the enemies they were to face. She sat next to known faces, taking comfort in familiarity amidst the novelty she'd found herself in, while Lady Crabb delighted in the feast before her, munching away wholly unbothered by her sullenness. Her husband was in better spirits after the toasts that had been made to their victory, conversing heartily with Lord Staunton as she looked about inquisitively.

Prince Daemon sat at the head of the table flanking Lord Corlys to the left looking disinterested as he sipped his wine, pretending to listen in to the conversation at hand. She smiled to herself at the glazed look in his eyes, present for a fleeting moment before wandering again to places far beyond her reach. One of the Velaryon lords next to Princess Rhaenys, Ser Vaemond, if she remembered correctly, said something which swiftly brought him back.

“Perhaps you'd like to find out for yourself Ser Vaemond, Caraxes would be all the more willing” he said smirking “A toast then” he spoke standing up as the chatter died down.“To our allies and their good health, may you weather the battle ahead well” he said as a few cheered in response. “And to our enemies, near and beyond, narrow be their deaths, narrow be their beds” he said looking around “To our appetite for war” he spoke at last, winking at him as the man below him gazed back in defiance “and more” he finished seemingly staring right at her. She squirmed with apprehension as the crowd erupted in cheers “Hear, hear” they chanted “To the Rogue Prince Daemon” , they continued, banging their cups on the spread in front.

She wondered if her husband realized what he partook in, as the celebrations continued, forever wanting for fame and glory begotten through company, only for her to be the unwitting recipient of the eye of the Dragon.

As the evening drew close and Bartimos drunkenly staggered through the halls supported by his peers, she fought back a scoff. He bade her goodnight, eager to continue his quest for companionship while she politely shut the door waiting to leave their chambers as soon as she felt the coast was clear. Drawing her robe close she snuck out to explore, excited at her newfound freedom, delighting in the sliver of opportunity she'd happened upon. High Tide was quiet as the waves lapped the shore in the distance, a peaceful contrast to the jeers of the evening. A few servants scurried about bowing as they passed by her without question, perhaps to tend to the many guests that the castle currently housed. It was relatively easy to navigate with its shiny walls of pale stone mixed with wood twisting to form an interesting maze. She passed by low chandeliers, banisters with carvings of sea creatures, walls of teal painted with murals of voyages at sea, retinues of Velaryon soldiers and seafarers shouting orders and rowing through storms, intricately decorating the hallways. Statues of oceanic figures greeted her, lining each corridor connecting together till she came upon one, wooden and endless, larger than the rest, with a small alcove at the end. Darting ahead at once to claim it for her own, she stopped as she heard an unfamiliar sound. A soft moan greeted her at the end followed by a series of grunts and the all too familiar sound of skin slapping against each other making her peer in. A maid lay bent over the edge, her dress ruched up to her waist as he pounded into her roughly muffling her sighs with his hand, her own clinging desperately to the railing ahead. “Quiet, I do not wish to hear you wench” he remarked, brutally thrusting into her as she whined. She watched, shocked and unable to move as he finished within her with a grunt, his silver hair falling over her shoulders, before turning around to face the door abruptly.

“It will never fail to amuse me how you find yourself in situations that do not concern you” her husband's voice rang through her ears as she ran out, only to find herself at the beach again. “You must learn your place wife and it isn't in every nook and corner of the castle” he'd remarked once, after her incessant interjections in an argument with his lord father. “The fool had some sense to what he'd said”, she thought, cursing herself loudly as she caught her breath. Admitting defeat had never felt so shameful, she sulked running her hands through her hair before turning around to find a voice addressing her.

“Couldn't sleep?”

“New waters, princess. I'm not used to change” she replied sheepishly.

“Hmm. You should have told Vanya, she's in charge of the guests. She'd have brewed you a nice tea, it works wonders for light sleepers”

“I presume you speak from experience” she ventured walking towards her.

“There is much to be thought of” she replied back as she welcomed her presence.

“You wish to join the war, contrary to what you spoke of at the council”

“What kind of dragon rider abandons their people in need. What am I, if not a warrior for a just cause”

“A ruler who knows when to step back” she countered.

“Those are flattering words, empty as they might be”

“I disagree, princess. Your children are young and you are needed here. Battles may not always be fought at sea or up in the air, the biggest ones often lie closer to home” she spoke, still unnerved by the night.

“You are wiser than your years Lady Celtigar”

“Many have called me rather impudent”

“And they always shall, anything otherwise would be to admit defeat” she scoffed.

“May I extend my impudence further tonight” she asked looking up at her in question “I think I know why you wish to join. Forgive my boldness but I feel a familiar reluctance in staying behind, with what has happened amidst those seas before”

She smiled ruefully in response. “Have you had the chance to see a dragon yet, Lady Belinda? Caraxes rests a few feet away from where we stand, slumbering in peace while his rider feasts for the night” she remarked causing her to turn abruptly “I fear I will not have peace till I fly to battle with him this once, a wish that was left unfulfilled years ago and a regret I hold with me still”

She looked around in unease before replying “It is not for me to advise you princess as I've often led myself off a cliff with my own words.”

“Do not fret he doesn't harm at will” she laughed sensing her distress. “Merely judges who he considers his prey”

“Like his rider” she wished to scream, smiling back at her instead.

“Sleep well my lady, I might require your impudence on the morrow after all,” she said before walking back to the Castle behind.

“There is no rest for the wicked” her mother used to say, scolding her when she acted out of impulse. “Your flights of fancy shall be the death of me” she'd scream as she chastised her for her conduct. The “morning after” drone on, just as painful to her as the throbbing in her husband's head, as he sat grumbling at breakfast.

“Seems like you had an interesting night” he remarked sullenly.

“What?”

“Princess Rhaenys was all praise for you at dawn.”

“Oh, it was nothing” she said as she tried to mask her raging thoughts, her mind wandering to a different head of silver that had caught her attention.

“Do not be so coy Belinda, it is good to see you putting yourself out there. Let them know what we stand for as a house” he said, sipping his tea.

“Your pride will be your downfall one day, husband, but I'm sure glad for it today” she thought, carefully evading the topic at hand.

The days that followed passed in a blur with her trying to make herself as scarce as possible and she'd found blending in with the decor a fine way of going about it. She'd attend meetings whenever she was called upon dressed in teals and blues, dine with her husband and their contemporaries adorned with silver, gossip idly with the ladies at sessions in sapphire, butting in more often, hoping to be included more but most of all she vowed never to stray out of company whenever she could, for she knew he was around, waiting to strike when she least expected it.

“There you are little trespasser” he'd caught her by the arm swinging her to the side on one such occasion, her burnished gold gown taunting her absurdity.

“Unhand me now or I'll scream”

“I doubt you would little mouse, I think you seem to take an undue amount of pleasure in depravities as such”

“I don't know what you mean”

“Don't play coy now, it doesn't suit you as much as you'd like it to” he retorted sharply

“I didn't mean to barge in on you, it was an accident”

“Hmm as are most instances you find yourself in, yes?”

“I am telling the truth,” she said, squirming in his grasp.

“Now what would your husband think, hmm, were he to find out, compromising yourself not once but twice” he whispered, twisting her towards him, pulling her flush against his chest.

“I have done nothing of that sort, you seem to mistake mischance for willingness”

“I am under no illusion my lady, but anyone in your current predicament would beg to differ” he said smirking as a few curious lords passed by them in the hallways whispering to themselves as they looked away abruptly.

“Walk with me and let me put you out of your misery” he replied, tugging her along, as he took her arm into the crook of his elbow, swiftly guiding them towards the other end of the hall.

“I want nothing more to do with you, my prince. Please leave me alone”

“Now where's the fun in that” he laughed humorlessly “Do not take me for a fool lady Celtigar, I’d prefer it if you'd play along”

She huffed as she followed him out onto familiar territory, the sandy soil welcoming her once again.

“You are married, what would your lady wife think if she found out” she said trying to dissuade him.

“I think she'll be all the more happier for my absence, something you and I might have in common” he retorted, eyes twinkling as he gazed down at her.

“I don't know what you mean” she said which earned her a click of his tongue in response.

“Bartimos is nothing but kind. He's faithful and just, I could ask for nothing more from a husband” she said after a pause.

“Perhaps you'd prefer a dog instead if that is what pleases you in a man” he huffed “Or was that your reason to linger last night?” She blushed furiously in response as he laughed at her silence.

“You presume too much”

“I only say what I think. Life is too short to hide behind false pleasantries.”

“One needs to be amiable enough to get by, not everyone has the veil of protection of a dragon rider”

“It is not Caraxes that speaks to you now, as much as you'd like, I am more myself when I say as I do.”

“And what exactly do you wish to achieve out of this” she asked, stopping as she stood before him.

“To unwind that needle you've stuck up yourself” he said “Your husband's brought you here all dolled up to decorate his empty promises, espousing might and support when all he has to his name is a house of Crabs with too few men. I do not need the likes of foolhardy lords who'll run the moment they come to face real danger.”

“What do you want then, my prince? We've come here with goodwill and whatever we have to offer” she said plainly

“I think you have far more to offer.”

“If you've come to ask me to bed you, I'd prefer it if you said so plainly”

“If I wanted to bed you I wouldn't need to ask and I don't mean taking you as an unwilling partner, as pretty as you might be”, he replied, turning a lock of her hair in his hands “You'd come to me willingly”

“Then it seems we are at an impasse” she replied. “I cannot give you what you want nor do you possess anything I seek”

“How do you know?”

“What”

“How do you know what it is that you wish to seek?” he asked “How does someone so sheltered know what they want if they haven't seen what life has to offer”

“What is it that you think I want then”

“A taste of the unknown,” he replied, looking towards the sea.

She stared after him for a moment choosing to continue beside him, the silence between them feeling akin to punishment as they made their way ahead. He stopped soon to pick up a tiny crab running across the shore.

“That is your husband,” he said, examining the creature.

“Come now, that is cruel”

He laughed before pointing towards it again “Look at its legs and tell me what you see”

“It has threads attached to it”

“They're not threads. They're remnants of flowers that thrive deep below

the seas, of colors so bright they'd put a Tyroshi head to shame” he said turning it around for her to look “Flowers like these cling to the crab, beautifying it, helping it forgae the sea weeding out prey, a perfect companion won't you say” he continued watching her swallow “Yet when this little soldier feels the need to return ashore he discards his companion to the solitude of the sea” he finished before tossing the crab aside.

“I am not a flower” she said lifting her head up in defiance “To be discarded so easily”

A broad grin lit up his face as he nodded at her continuing down his path.

Preparations for the war soon ramped up, prolonging her discomfort. She felt stifled putting up smiles, talking incessantly to fill the silence lest she be drawn back in, while he lingered on. She began seeing him more frequently, at most meals of the day. A few of the men had taken to dining with their ladies, mostly those of importance to the warfront and with Bartimos finally being offered a place at the table it was hard to refuse his advancement. She began sitting with them stiff as a board, his gaze burning into her across the spread before them, ashamed to be the cause of her husband's newfound happiness. Watching him drink and talk with pride oblivious to the danger that lay ahead of them both prompted her to consider the nagging thought in her head, perhaps she needed to be his sea flower at last.

He was relentless in his pursuit all the while, smirking with his head tilted to the side whenever she caught him looking, observing her with a heavy gaze waiting to strike again.

It came to a head finally, one sunny morning. She didn't know what possessed her to go to the council room, perhaps it was to seek out Bartimos, as a warning or with counsel itself, but she had opened those great oak doors only to find him inside. He sat alone at the head, with one foot propped up on the map before him, eyes looking out the window, disinterested and lost.

“Are you here to apologize again?” he asked, raising his eyebrow in question.

“I was looking for my husband. Since he's not here I shall leave you to it”

“Ever the dutiful wife, byka embar rūklon”

“Don't call me that”

“Hmm” he chuckled. “Given that he's occupied at the moment, what can I do for you, my lady?” he said standing up.

“Must we keep coming back to it” she replied back, exasperated.

“It is you who makes things difficult”

“Hardly. I've told you what I do not want, I think that should make things much easier for us both”

“You may speak all you want but it's the things left unsaid that matter the most” he continued, before they were interrupted by a servant. She turned to look at her in shock as she greeted him, striding forwards to fill his cup to the brim, privy to all their secrets. He grinned at her expression as he held up a hand

“Leave it and tidy up those scrolls like I taught you” he remarked dismissing her as she wordlessly turned her back to them.

“Now this must be a familiar sight to you” he chuckled, addressing her.

“Your cupbearer” she asked, switching to High Valyrian delighting in his pleased expression.

“Yes it is quite convenient. She knows when I'm full”

“How ingenious” she remarked dispassionately.

“Come on, it's fun”

“To see her each morn, when you're discussing matters of importance and know how you'll be having her at dusk? Was this the unknown you spoke ok?” she spat

“Stand up, let me show you something” he remarked suddenly as he led her to the window.

“To anyone who walks in now, I'm showing you how the sky melts into the sea, explaining to you the foreign territory we'll soon find ourselves in, ” he said, moving close to her.

“What concerns us, is how I've ordered her to tidy up everything. All the scrolls and there are a hundred of them, before she thinks of lifting her head up again” he whispered as she heaved at his proximity, her back flush against his chest.

“We could do whatever we want and she wouldn't move an inch” he hummed against her ear pulling her close. “No one would know, for the reward that awaits her at dusk”

“Obedience for pleasure” she sighed as he tilted her head up gazing into her eyes.

“Precisely” he grinned, grabbing her neck without warning.

“What will you choose, embar rūklon?” he said brushing his nose violently against hers. She bit his lip in response, delighted with his painfully grunt as she tasted him, metallic and raw, of blood and smoke.

“I think that suffices as an answer ” she responded breathlessly, crashing her lips against his.

As she walked out the door later, she noticed the neatly arranged scrolls in the corner with seven cups lined in order, ready for each member of the council to use. The dragon behind her grinned greedily, having found yet another conquest to his name.

Daemon Targaryen was more beast than man, she'd come to learn over the days that followed. As the time to leave finally drew close and tempers ran hot at council meetings, his thirst for flesh increased, seeking her out in shadowed corridors, grasping and rutting into her savagely. She'd be showered with equal affection later on masking the bruises marking her skin. Jewellery of pearl and rubies adorned her pulse points, bitten and sore from their heady encounters as she strutted around with unfaltering poise delighting in her newfound routine. She had come to enjoy their little game, often finding ways to excuse herself to explore another hideaway the castle had to offer, leaving it separately with the lingering smell of their sweat and arousal. Despite the intensity of their meetings it was the aftermath she had come to cherish the most, when he'd kiss the crown of her head after pulling her hair, or play with her wrists as he drew her close. The little trinkets that she hid among her dresses, made her heart beat faster whenever she sat looking out at sea smiling to herself as her company chatted on.

“I got you something”

“What is this?” she laughed “A bird of paper?”

“There is a technique they use in Yi-Ti, where they make creatures out of paper, style them as they like '' he said “This is a crane shown to me by a merchant in passing, as a token for the hefty purchase I made. They say if you make a thousand of these the Gods grant you anything you desire.”

“I thought you didn't believe in the Gods,” she mocked.

“I do not but there isn't a man more foolish than the one who doesn't appreciate beauty, in all forms” he smirked.

“There is a catch though” he said, pulling it away before she had the chance to grab it.

“There always is, isn't it”

“If and when you make a thousand of these you'll be granted but a single wish. I would choose one carefully embar rūklon”

She closed her eyes as she thought smiling to herself.

“Not now”

“Ah but what if I wish for something this very moment, what's to stop me”

“You play by my rules alone byka gevie, never forget” he said pulling her towards him delighting in her laughter.

As much as he'd claimed ownership of the people in his service Daemon had glossed over a singular fact common to all women alike, they preferred nothing more than a fresh rumor served cold. From the smallfolk to the ladies in their fine towers, each held a kinship to one another when it came to gossip, spreading it far and wide. Rumors of her entanglement with the dragon prince spread like wildfire, with fresh tongues wagging in her direction, holding her accountable with their judgy eyes and insolent mouths. His little cupbearer was the one responsible, she thought as she found herself cornered, how fitting it was to be felled by the keeper of his secrets.

The most disappointing though, was the reaction of the lady she'd lent her sympathy to days ago.

“I'd like to give you a piece of advice Lady Celtigar” she remarked one morning

“You are young and have many years ahead of you, do not waste it in pursuit of fleeting pleasure. I know what it's like to feel constrained and alone. When my husband went off on his travels across the world it was I who held fort here, braving it all, ensuring our legacy wouldn't be tarnished by even a wisp of bitterness. You will soon be put in a similar position and you won't weather it should you choose to continue as you are now” she said plainly. “A woman's reputation makes or breaks her family and her house. It is the most important tool you have in your arsenal and you must learn to weild it well.”

“I can take care of myself Princess. My impudence shall weather me through whatever storm awaits me yet, besides you have a dragon to protect you, I doubt it was your diplomacy that carried your legacy forwards”

“And now you've found yours” she remarked with distaste. “Heed my warning my lady, I have known my cousin long enough to realize he always does as he wants. He will not change no matter how much you wish for it to be so” she said as she left her in thought.

The storm at her horizon approached faster than she could have anticipated striking the pearls around her neck first, with an innocuous question posed at dinner.

“That is such a beautiful necklace my lady wherever did you get it”

“Oh it is one of the many treasures of our house” she countered “A little trinket, one of many the Celtigars boast. We have chests of ancestral rubies, Myrish carpets, Volantene glass, jeweled cups and more that await you at Claw Isle should you choose to visit” she remarked satisfied with turning the conversation at hand. If only it had been so easy.

“Where did you get that Belinda?” Bartimos asked cornering her when they were alone

“The necklace? It is one of the many you've given me”

“Do you take me for a fool” he scoffed

“I don't know what you mean, if not then it must belong to one of the chests back home”

“I know every gift that I've ever given you Belinda, your honeyed words fool no one” he said looking at her with contempt.

“Do you think I don't know what's been happening behind my back? Do you think I'm such a fool to not recognise how you've been whoring yourself while I have been away and for what” he asked, ripping them from her neck “Pretty trinkets that I'd buy you had you bothered to ask? Are you so starved for attention to be acting as such. Do you know what they call you? '' he screamed “They call you the Harlot of Driftmark! The Whore of High Tide who's been strutting around the Castle with her cheap keepsakes. Why must you act as such? Have I not given you enough?”

“You're one to talk, have you even bothered looking at me this once. Ever since we've stepped foot on this dreaded island you've done nothing but jest and play at your war never bothering to inquire how I've felt. Ever since I've married you, you've never made the effort. Do you think I want your wealth and all the treasures that you hoard with your claws, boasting at every opportune moment? It makes you look like the fool that you are Bartimos” she screamed “If you'd just asked me once, if you'd just listened to what I had to say, to what I've felt this past year, things would have been-”

“If I had listened to you then you wouldn't have fucked him, is that it then?”

“Why don't you love me?” she cried “Why is it always honor and virtue and claiming and parading myself as yours when I am anything but. I've never been yours because you haven't let me. Why don't you want me as I am”

“Neither does he. He doesn't see you as anything more than a vessel for his pleasure, ripe for taking and you are a fool for thinking otherwise, just as I am for thinking you'd ever want me” he said looking at her in pain.

“I shall leave on the morrow. You shall be escorted back shortly with Lady Crabb. Say your goodbyes as I have none for you”

The noose felt tight around her neck as she wiped the wetness staining her cheeks, the tears she'd wished for had come at last.

It was dawn when she ventured out again, awoken by the shrill roar of Caraxes taking flight. She rushed to his chambers barefoot with a robe covering her, only to find them empty. A wail left her throat as she collapsed near his bed clutching the sheets, sitting still on the floor gazing at his walls, lost and alone till the sun rose and her tears dried up. The time to lament was over. The mirror at the entrance caught her attention, alerting her to her haggard appearance. She looked at the bags under her eyes, puffy and glistening as she walked towards her reflection, noticing a cushion nestled beneath. On it lay a single paper crane greeting her solemnly.

“It is time for you to do your duty, embar rūklon just as it is time for mine. To the unknown you've been searching for”, she read through hazy eyes running her fingers over the scrawled words on its wings.

The journey back to Claw Isle proved to be an arduous one. She felt their eyes on her as she boarded the ship, when she stood on deck and when she took her meals in silence on board, their judgment never leaving her. She wished for nothing more than to be sequestered in her home once again, laughing to herself at the irony of it all. She had often heard the tale of the weary seafarer glad to return home after his travels, delighting in its familiarity and Claw Isle had never felt more welcoming than it did now. As she stepped onto the beach leading up to the Island, she felt a sense of relief wash over her. She spent the next few days in silent contemplation, barring visitors and well wishers alike. She went on long walks, worked on her embroidery, read whatever she could find in the castle library and kept herself as occupied as she could, though the thing about an idle mind was that it soon merited thought. The news of the warfront floating around crept up to her soon. The advancement of the Velaryon forces on Bloodstone with Prince Daemon and little Lord Laenor's assistance spread rapidly delighting noble and commoner alike, for a war involving dragons had been fought after so long and the gossip accompanying it proved even meatier. She heard it in passing as her maids whispered to themselves, mentions of herself with Prince Daemon graced the hallways as well as chuckles at Bartimos and his misfortune of being stuck with her. It was the twentieth day of the fifth moon when she decided to confront it all, bringing out and dismantling the object of her ire. The crane was easy to take apart, soggy from its travels at sea and as the wet parchment of paper stared at her she remembered why it was given to her in the first place. Over the next few moons she learnt how to make one, it was easy enough with no shortage of paper for anything to be considered amiss. Every night before she went to bed she crafted a little bird with her hands, closing her eyes and stuffing it away come morning. The war carried on as did her own effort at home.

Almost three years later when she had diligently made her last one she sat staring at it in silence, crying to herself as she closed her eyes, thinking her effort had perhaps all been in vain.

News of the war reached her a fortnight later, Prince Daemon had killed Craghas Drahar, slicing him from head to torso, styling his weapon into a crown, calling himself the “King of the narrow sea”. It had been a happy occasion for all of Crackclaw Point uplifting their spirits enough for her to invite the neighboring ladies to tea. They had all won and a celebration was to be hosted in their honor. As the castle was tidied up and the ornaments brought out, she noticed a giant red crab placed near the entrance welcoming the guests she was to host, on its back writhing and beautiful were a myriad of familiar coloured threads.

“What is that” she asked the Castellan as he caught her looking.

“Those are sea flowers my lady, nestled upon the great crab’s back. It is a beautiful relationship they share in harmony, uplifting one another. The flower beautifies the crab as well as helping it forage while being offered protection inturn. No other creature of the sea dare touch it's beauty as long as the crab stands vigil”

A looming sense of dread washed over her as she excused herself from the hall, rushing to find the old crane. As she sifted through her drawers desperate to find it among the thousand others she'd made she felt herself grow weary and tired, frustrated as she collapsed to the floor. Each crane she'd found was henceforth burned in the hearth before their bed, meticulously chucked into the fire as she watched them be swallowed by the flames. Her wish had finally been fulfilled.

Bartimos returned nearly four moons later to a full house and a happier wife. His apprehension at seeing her was soon eclipsed by her contagious demeanor. She apologized to him, with Rhaenys' advice fresh in her mind, wishing to make amends to which he acquiesced soon after a moon of coaxing. The rumors still reached them from time to time yet she had him, to weather them together. Prince Daemon's lady wife soon passed away. A hunting accident they'd called it followed by the scandal of the Jade tiara from Yi-Ti, his hefty purchase she'd assumed finally coming to fruition. The deflowering of his niece in the capital brothel followed soon, as her belly swelled and by the time he'd returned to wreak havoc on the royal wedding she had laughed at it all mirthlessly.

When he took a new bride five moons later in the form of Lady Laena Velaryon she took it well with a stiff lip, mind drawn to the Red Queen herself and as her confinement approached a few moons later and she lay in bed she found the old crane at last. Scrawled illegibly on one of its wings was part of the phrase her hazy eyes had missed moons ago

“To the unknown you've been searching for and for the one you've helped me find.”

She crumpled the weary crane in her lap clawing at it as her husband droned on recounting the accounts of the castle for the moon. The Valyrians, she thought, had always managed to entrench everyone in their affairs.

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[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Daemon x velaryon warrior reader please

This is set during the war in the Stepstones. Reader is Corlys’s daughter who is a little older than Leanor and Laena

keep sending requests

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Many knights had shared a laugh when you arrived on dragon’s back alongside your brother Leanor. They thought your father was a fool to allow you to join them in the Stepstones, to fight at their sides. According to them– according to men, you needed a cock – regardless of its size – to partake in wars and battles and they were very insistent about that.

Every time you opened your mouth to share your input on a strategy or offer to go on the warzone, someone would oppose and make a sexist comment, but you were always quick to remind them that a war was fought with swords, arrows and dragons, not genitals.

And Daemon loved every second of it. He marveled at the way you never let anyone walk over you and weren't scared of putting men back in their places.

‘’Woman, leave the strategy to the men and stick to the embroidery,’’ Vaemond sniggered, getting other men to laugh along.

Your blood was boiling. ‘’Are you insinuating that I lack the wit to come up with an attack strategy? I'll have you, uncle, know that the last attack was my idea and we successfully put down a hundred men thanks to my night patrolling. You should know by now, uncle, that knowing your enemy is essential to plan an attack. It lowers the fatalities on our side and you know we need all the men we have left.’’

Vaemond refused to believe you. ‘’Lies!’’ he called. ‘’Leanor came up with the idea.’’

‘’Knowing you would oppose to the idea, I shared it to Leanor and asked him to present it to prove you all that I am capable of coming up with war plans.’’

Before you, Vaemond was speechless and Leanor was looking smug, proud of his sister.

‘’What role have you played in this council, Uncle, other than Master of Complaints?’’ you added to fuel the fire just as a dragon’s shriek was heard over your heads, announcing Daemon returned with Caraxes.

‘’Enough!’’ Lord Corlys barked, breaking the bickering between his brother and daughter. He narrowed his eyes at Vaemond, wishing the older man would just stop belittling you and accept that you were part of the war council. Mayhaps if he did, the other knights would do the same. ‘’Leanor! What are our options?’’

‘’The Crabfeeder created a choke point here, beyond these dunes.’’ Your brother placed the paw on the war map to better explain. ‘’Archers hold the high positions, foot soldiers hold the ground. We’ve strafed them on dragon back again and again, but they just retreat within the caves. Dragons can circle Bloodstone until they fall out of the sky–’’

Leanor’s voice was drowned, your eyes and attention shifting to Daemon as he walked up to the table everyone was reassembled around, having returned from flying over Bloodstone. He removed his gloves and put them on the table, then removed his helmet, revealing sweaty silver hair and fierce braids. You felt a tightening in your stomach from looking at him, the dirt on his face rendering him more attractive in his warrior attire armor.

‘’What’s the report, my prince?’’ a knight asked, waiting expectantly.

‘’The Crabfeeder and his pirates retreated to the caves the moment they saw the dragon,’’ Daemon reported, finding himself at a stalemate. 

‘’We could block the issues of the caves and catch them when they leave? They can only last so long in the caves,’’ one of the Velaryon knight suggested.

You shook your head. ‘’How long would we be standing there for? Hours? Our knights will get tired and the pirates will use it to their advantages to attack. It could end in a bloodbath for us. We cannot afford to lose more soldiers.’’

‘’Besides, the caves go on for miles,’’ Laenor added, supporting your point. ‘’They probably have food and all else they could ever need in the caves. The Crabfeeder and his men have no reason to leave those caves.’’

‘’Then, we must give them one.’’ It was crazy, but you had used up all the sane strategies by now -- and you were running out of time and men. ‘’An offering of flesh to bait the crab.’’

A thick silence installed itself around the table, knowing your strategy would put someone’s life in jeopardy -- and possible death.

‘’Who?’’ your father asked, breaking the silence. 

Vaemond's obnoxious laugh followed. ‘’Which man here will happily go to his death? Show me the knight who will march into that hell pit, niece, and I will show you a madman.’’

Your eyes flickered to the silver haired warrior before you. ‘’Daemon.’’

You would not call Daemon a madmen; he was impulsive and unforgiving, but also a devoted and talented warrior and, unlike some people at the table, he was fighting this war in the Stepstones, swinging Dark Sister and slaying pirates on the grounds. 

‘’Please elaborate, Lady Y/N?’’ the prince said, interested in your idea.

Once again, Vaemond was baffled. ‘’You are willing to let the woman direct us? To drive you to your death?!’’

’’Call me ‘woman’ again, uncle, and I’ll have you fed to my dragon. Silverwing hasn’t had her breakfast yet,’’ you said, your threat not empty. 

The corner of Daemon’s lips curled into a smirk. ‘’Caraxes could use some more meat too, in case anyone agrees with Lord Vaemond.’’

-

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