#criston cole x rhaenyra targaryen

[cherriready]

Among snakes I shall dance, ch. 5: Not dead yet

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Targaryen!Fem!Reader

Previous Chapter // Epilogue

Summary: Rhaenyra's firstborn finds herself surrounded by the greens and, to her misfortune, betrothed to one of them. So she begins to plan how to take them down, one by one, from the inside.

Word count: 6.3k

Warning: Allusions to incestuous relationship, use of obscene language, mentions of sexual assault, dub-con and graphic possible death. some characters might be a bit out of character.

A/N: THE LAST CHAPTER IS HERE!

Feedback is always appreciated! ❤️

"You are with child.” These were the words Grand Master Orwyle blurted out.

"I don't understand..." was all that the peincess managed to say.

She was in a state of complete shock after all that had just happened with Aegon in her chamber, not more than an hour ago. An unparalleled anxiety had come over her at the ultimatum her husband's older brother had given her. She felt dazed and overwhelmed, fatigued and exhausted.

"The maid who came to fetch me has spoken of your behaviour these past few weeks," the Maester spoke, trying to make her feel more at ease. He spoke, trying to make her understand her situation.

"Dyana is not my maid, she is the king and queen's maid.” The young woman spoke with a somewhat lost look in her eyes. She was totally lost in herself. "She can't make these conjectures. I cannot be expecting a child."

"Servants tend to talk among themselves, that's why she'll be aware of your situation."

"This has to be a mistake."

"Princess. When was the last time you bled?" The old man ran a cloth dipped in aromatic waters over her forehead and neck, to make her feel better and help her calm down. "Have you had any unusual symptoms lately?"

"I have been fatigued, but that is because my Lord Husband and I have been-" she paused before continuing. "We've been spending a lot of time together, doing things."

"That's something we have all noticed." The princess put her hands to her head at the comment, "Tell me, have you bled this past moon?"

"No." That was when the young Velaryon realised that Orwyle was possibly right in everything he said. "I haven't done it in two moons, actually."

Aemond did had an excellent aim, then.

"During the first few moons it is normal for a woman to seek intimacy with her husband. It is another symptom, the appetite for intercourse, due to the new state the body is in."

"My breasts feel fuller." The woman commented, looking at the Master, who gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Then it is a fact, Princess. Congratulations, you will bear the prince a heir."

"Could we keep it a secret for a few days?" the young woman asked nervously, as she rose from the bed and pulled a blanket over her shoulders. "I would like to tell the prince first, before anyone else lets him know."

"Of course. I won't say anything." Nodded the man as he prepared to leave.

"Grand Maester, if the maid is still outside, could you ask her to come in, please?"

The Grand Maester nodded again before heading out the door, but not before bowing his head. "Princess."

The young silver-haired woman put her nails in her mouth and began to pace the room, nervous, once the shock was beginning to wear off. Her head began to spin, a lump formed in her throat and her chest felt heavy.

"Princess." Spoke in a whisper the young maid, Dyana, as she entered the room.

"Close the door, please." Said the woman, standing and looking at the other woman. She was not much younger than she was.

"Are you all right, my lady?" the young woman asked, her hands clasped in front of her. "Is there anything I can do to make you comfortable?"

"How could it be that moments after the king left my chambers, one of his maids came into my room and found me in the state I was in?" She asked, the young woman just stared at her in silence, thinking of an answer. "Did he send you, by any chance?"

"No, of course not, princess." The young woman shook her head, vigorously.

"Then?"

"I... I followed the king here. I saw him come in and noticed how he was slow to leave... then I heard you crying and screaming." The young woman spoke nervously, fiddling with her hands and with her head down. "I just wanted to make sure you was alright, that's all."

"A servant girl shouldn't get into trouble that doesn't concern her, Dyana. If the king had come to see you, he might have-"

"He began to tell me what he planned to do to you, princess. A few days ago, when I was serving him wine. He was very drunk, I think he mistook me for someone he shouldn't have." The blonde woman took a step forward, unsure of the reaction the Velaryon might have. "I wanted to make sure he didn't do anything to you, nothing more. I'm so sorry for intruding."

"Why would you want to do that for me? Aren't you supposed to be one of the queen and king's most loyal servants?" The princess's voice trembled, not quite able to reach why that specific maid would care about her. The young woman said nothing, only giving her a quick tear-filled glance, before looking away and lowering her gaze.

And then she understood where the girl's concern was coming from.

"He did the same to you, as he did to me." It wasn't a question, more of a fact. The Princess felt anger gnawing at her insides at what he had done to the girl. "You're just a child, you must be the same age as my brother Luke, and he-" she stopped herself before turning her back on the girl and walking over to the dresser by the window, pulling out a small bag.

"Princess?"

"You need to get the hell out of here." Said the Valyrian-featured woman, walking over to where the young servant stood and taking her hand, then resting the bag she had just taken on top of it. "I want you to get out of here, right now. You're not safe, and I won't let that depraved, son of a bitch do anything else to you."

"I can't leave, I have obligations here. My family depends on my work here and-"

The princess took Dyana's face, and made her look into her eyes. "Fuck those obligations. You have to do it and you will do it, you have to be safe, all right? There's enough gold in that bag for you and your family to start over far away from here, anywhere. I refuse to put you through this."

"What about you, princess?"

"It's complicated." The princess spoke. "But at least I'm relieved to know that I've been able to help someone escape this nightmare." She smiled sadly at her. "Don't look back and try to live a life away from here."

"Princess..." Dyana's lower lip began to tremble, but she nodded at the words she had just heard.

"Thank you, Dyana. For caring about me. Now, go." The young maid stood still where she was. "Go." The Red Mermaid insisted.

Dyana nodded and left, but not before giving to the Velaryon princess a glance. "Finish him off." The young woman encouraged her, before bowing her head and leaving the place.

It was moments later when the silver-haired woman fell to her knees in defeat and burst into tears. She put one hand to her belly and another over her mouth to silence her cries.

What could she do now, in the situation she was in?

Such was the mental, emotional and physical exhaustion she felt at the position she was in, that she didn't even have the strength to get up from the floor and go to her bed. She felt the weight of the world on her, and she didn't know what to do.

She needed Aemond. Without him, her danger was inevitable. She just wanted him to hold her and reassure her that everything was going to be all right, that she could get out of all of this.

"What am I going to do?" she asked in a whisper, as she closed her eyes and caressed her lower belly, now lying on the floor. In a fetal position. "I can't let anything happen to you. I-I... I can't let you be born into a world like this."

She gave no more of herself, she collapsed and gave up, let sleep overtake her, on that cold, uncomfortable floor. Thousands of questions and fears haunted her, so that even in her dreams she was chased by them.

"My love..." was the first thing she heard when she slowly opened her eyes the next day. "My love..." a soft caress ran down her back.

Confused, she looked around. She saw the light coming through the windows, but noticed that it was not the light of dawn, but rather the light of dusk. She turned and realised that she was on the bed, not on the floor, and Aemond was lying next to her, watching her silently as he gently caressed her figure.

"You're back." She whispered moving closer to her husband's body and hiding her face in his chest, inhaling his fragrance for comfort.

"Here I am." He murmured into her hair. "I found you on the floor, asleep, when I arrived a few hours ago. I thought you needed rest, so I didn't wake you."

She looked up and stroked his cheek, as she watched his face, her expression hard for him to read.

"Has something happened in my absence?" Concerned he asked, frowning slightly.

"No." She lied to him, before giving him a weak smile and hiding her face in his chest again. "Nothing for you to worry about, hm?" Then she remembered why he had to leave the day before, unannounced. "How did it go at Storm's End? Did anything happen?" She asked him, now sitting up in bed, waiting for an answer from him.

"Things got complicated, they got out of control." The sapphire man answered her, as he sat down next to her.

"Did Lord Baratheon say anything to you? Are you all right?" the young Velaryon woman asked worriedly as she took his hand.

"Borros is a complex man, but yes, I'm fine." Her husband looked down at his hands, unsure how to tell her what had happened at Storm's End last night. "It has to do with your brother Lucerys, my love."

"I don't understand, Aemond. What does Luke has to do with any of this?" she shook her head in confusion. "Has a raven come for me in my sleep, by any chance? Has something happened to my baby brother?" She got out of bed as she felt the panic and anticipation wash over her.

Couldn't the young princess catch her breath at least? Fucking hell, because what a twenty-four hours she had been up to.

"No, no raven has come." The Red Mermaid relaxed slightly at those words. "You see, last night when I arrived at Storm's End to negotiate with Borros, I-"

Strange coincidence that someone knocked on the door just as Aemond was about to tell his wife what had happened at Storm's End and what Luke apparently had to do with it.

"Come in." Said the prince with the long silver hair and one eye.

"Good evening, my prince, my princess." Announced a servant boy entering the room with two small papyrus. "They are for you."

The young princess took the note the kid brought for her, while the Targaryen took his, respectively.

"My brother wants us all to gather tonight for dinner, to celebrate how the negotiations with Lord Baratheon went." Aemond read aloud, as he walked over to where the flagon of wine sat and poured a cup for himself and another for his wife.

'In the throne room, after supper, I will await your response to my offer.' That was what was written on the note from her, who, after reading it, threw it into the fire in the hearth.

"Why are you burning it?" Aemond asked her, arching an eyebrow at the silence in which his wife found herself.

"No reason, darling. It wasn't for me, they must have made a mistake." She replied, taking the glass of wine he offered her. "Thank you."

The man with the blue sapphire embraced the red mermaid from behind, resting his chin on her head and bringing his hands to her waist. He closed his eye and tried to find the strength to be the one to tell her what happened the night before. He didn't want her to find out from someone else.

"Aemond." The silence was broken by the young woman, catching his attention. "There is something I must tell you." The young woman turned on her heels, and rested her hand on his chest.

It was obviously not simply something she had to tell him. There were two of them, and they were huge issues to address. And honestly? She didn't want to do it alone, because she was terrified to the core.

"I..." the young woman gasped. She didn't have the strength to tell him everything that had happened in her absence. "I don't want to spend a minute without you by my side, even when you have to go. If you must leave the Red Keep at any time, I want you to take me with you." I don't want to be in the same cage as the beast, she omitted to say.

"All right." Was all the prince said before placing a kiss on the Velaryon's temple, who closed her eyes at the warm gesture.

His story was going to have to wait.

She definitely felt like a competition pig, about to be executed at any moment and served on a platter. Those words were exactly how she felt under the predatory gaze of Aegon, who gave her a malicious grin as he munched on his dinner. She glared hatefully at him, clutching the knife with which he was cutting into her steak, so tightly that her knuckles were completely white.

"Is it me or is the atmosphere tense tonight?" spoke that excuse of a King, as he looked at his brother and sister-in-law. "We should be celebrating."

"Aegon, please." Alicent spoke, giving his daughter-in-law and granddaughter-in-law a fleeting glance, trying to stop his son from doing something stupid.

"Don't worry, Mother." Aegon spoke, rising from his seat, then picking up his goblet and raising it. "I want to make a toast, so please raise your glasses."

"Aegon. Don't." Alicent knew what was coming.

"A toast to my little brother, Aemond, who has secured the loyalty of the Baratheons in our favor.” All present, Otto, Alicent - who looked relieved - Helaena, and even the couple, Aemond and the princess raised their glasses. "The kingdom is grateful to you, Aemond. Your king is."

"Hear, hear." Said Otto with a smile on his face, he seemed satisfied.

Everyone drank from their cup after that toast, but Aegon was not finished yet. "By the seven hells, how could I have missed it. How tactless of me, how insensitive I am." Aegon lowered his glass and forced a look of sadness onto his face.

The young Velaryon, looking with confusion at her husband, who sat tense in his seat, gave her a look he could not decipher.

"I would like to say a few words for our nephew, Lucerys Velaryon. For your brother."

The young woman's heart began to beat violently against her chest, she felt suddenly breathless. "What?" was all the young woman managed to whisper.

"I would like to honour his memory by saying, that it comforts me to know that the boy was very brave until his last moments, even when he was unfortunately pitted against Vhagar. He also showed himself to be very... Strong, like his father, with whom I hope he is resting in peace right now."

The princess let out a short nervous laugh. "I don't understand. Luke is fine, he's not dead. Why would you say something like that?" the young woman asked angrily at the last part, rising from her seat, though she was still confused by her uncle's words.

"I am sorry, dear niece. Has your husband not told you the tragic news?" The silver-haired girl looked at Aemond, who was rising to his feet, and extended a hand in his direction.

"Don't touch me." The young woman mumbled, feeling her eyes burn from the accumulation of tears. He remained silent, but tried to touch her again. "Luke is fine."

"No, my dearest. Your brother is dead, and your husband is the one who can confirm it. After all, he's the one who killed him."

Without a word, the young woman rose from her seat, and with a completely neutral countenance, so as not to give Aegon any satisfaction, she looked at everyone present but Aemond. She did not even deign to address him. To him, for his part, having had no reaction from her to the news, he knew perfectly well that she had given him up for dead, that he was so insignificant that he did not deserve even a look of contempt.

"Niece..." whispered Helaena, with immense sadness, as she watched her friend leave the room. They all stood and watched, silently as she left, while Aegon smiled to himself before sitting back down and taking a drink from his goblet.

"Someone put some more wine in my cup." Was what he said, satisfied with the damage he had done to the couple.

His plan was working, indeed.

With firm, quick steps, the young woman made her way to her chambers. Once inside, standing in the middle of the room, she burst into a rage and began to ravage everything within her reach. Between screams and cries of desolation, she tore down the curtains, threw the cups against the wall, tore the bedclothes, threw the table and everything on it.

The Valyrian looking woman put her hands to her head and let out from between her lips the most heart-rending scream ever heard in the Keep. "Fucking monsters! You are filthy snakes, all of you! May you rot in fucking hell and die the worst fucking deaths!" She screamed at the top of his lungs. "Fuck you all!" Between shaky, angry breaths, she did try to wipe the tears from her beautiful eyes.

"My love-" her husband's voice was heard behind her.

There he was, the person she had fallen in love with and married, much to her fucking disgrace now. The person who had been, nothing more and nothing less, the one who had ended her brother's life. "What the fuck do you want, kinslayer?" she said venomously to her husband, clenching her jaw.

He tried to approach her, but she pointed her finger at him, causing him to stop in his tracks. "I have to explain to you exactly what happened. Please."

"You disgust me." She said to him with bated breath. "I don't want you anywhere near me, do you hear me? DO YOU HEAR ME!?"

Aemond held up his hands in response. "Let me tell you exactly what happened. Please, darling?"

"Seven hells! Don't call me that!" She shouted at him as she came up to her husband. "I should kill you for what you did to my brother." She said between her teeth, tears of rage and anger forming in her eyes. "You made me trust you, Aemond! You told me you would protect me! And that means you would never let anything to hurt me, that goes for you too! Fuck!"

"Listen-"

"NO! I have nothing to listen to! I'm not going to let you tell me lies, I'm not going to let you trick me." The Velaryon brought her hands to her face and let her air out through her nose. "You're no better than any of them, not even Aegon, and that's saying a lot. You're all fucking, filthy snakes."

Aemond stood still, not moving, just watching as his wife paced up and down the room, shouting at him - and rightly so. At that moment he felt like the world was closing in on him, a suffocating pressure preventing him from breathing normally, his own racing heart pounding in his ears and chest. His eye was beginning to burn from the tears that were forming.

But he could do nothing, he could say nothing. He could only stand there, still and silent. Watching it all fall apart.

"I want you to leave." She said after she had been silent for a few moments. "I never want to see you again in my fucking life."

"You know I can't do that."

"You will. Or I swear on my soul I'll kill you, but not before I gouge out your other eye!" Then she let out a laugh full of irony. "Seven hells, that would be poetic to see."

"Please-" tears slid down his face.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Aemond nodded only once, then left the room, but not before giving his wife one last pain-filled look.

"I love you..." he whispered to himself.

After that, once completely alone, the young princess with angsty features, sat down in front of the fireplace and began to drink the wine that remained in the jug. As she stared at the fire, she could feel the reflection of it within her, it burned her, or rather motivated her to do what she had to do. She knew she could not stand idly by and do nothing, do nothing for her family. For what was left of her, at least.

Once she was drunk enough to have the confidence and the little courage she lacked and needed, she went to her dresser and dressed in what she considered to be the best nightgown she had.

If she was going to do what she was supposed to do, she had to do it properly. After all, as Aegon had said the night before, there should be no impediment to the two of them making something profitable out of the situation.

She set off for the throne room. It was already dark, and there was almost no one in the cold, dark corridors. Aegon was smart to tell his niece to meet in the huge, now empty room.

"You are late." He said once he saw her enter the room. "I thought I was going to have to send for you, to have my guards drag you out."

She brought a hand to her lower belly, caressing it, and sighed, turning her back to him as she closed the Throne room’s door. "As you can see, that won't be necessary." She said forcing a smile for her uncle.

"Come closer." He commanded, sitting on the Iron Throne. "I don't bite. Well, it depends on the occasion." He joked darkly.

With a cold, determined gaze, the king's niece walked to the stairs leading to the throne, where she stopped, and watched him silently. "Here I am." She said.

"Do you not intend to bow to your king?" Aegon asked, resting his face in his hand.

"My mistake, uncle." She curtsied to him, but never took her eyes off him at any point.

"That's better. Though... you should be taught manners, taught your place, dear niece."

"You are right, my apologies." She whispered with a certain air of innocence.

The usurper king let out a small laugh. "You do learn quickly..." he said, rising from the throne and descending the stairs slowly. His footsteps were loud, echoing in the wide hall. "That really turns me on, you have no idea."

She gave him a smile. "I... I wanted to apologise, Aegon. For my hostile behaviour towards the crown, towards you." She ducked her head. "But now I know you were right when you told me yesterday that we could both profit from our... situation."

"Hm... I forgive you, don't worry." He cupped her hand, cool to the touch, and then grabbed her chin gently, lifting her face so that he could look her in the eye. "I'm glad you made the right decision."

"I'm grateful to have been encouraged to do so, Uncle."

"At last... I can admire your scar up close." He said, moving her face to get a better view of her old wound. "What's the real story behind it?"

"A man tried to rape me, and I wouldn't let him."

"Surely he wouldn't have satisfied you the way I would."

"Surely not." She whispered, closing her eyes. He nuzzled her neck, and felt her pulse in it. "I hope you don't dislike my scar."

"Not at all, it fascinates me."

"That relieves me to know." The Velaryon opened her eyes and made eye contact with him, even with her face cocked to one side.

"You've changed since the last time I took you." The short, silver-haired man brought his face close to her hair and sniffed. "You're a real woman now, all thanks to me." He whispered in her ear.

"Let me show you what a real woman can do, please." She implored, as she gave him an innocent look and bit her lower lip.

He turned away from her, and walked back up the stairs to the throne, where he took a seat and watched her.

"Undress." He commanded her. She silently and slowly removed the only garment she was wearing. "Come over here and kneel." He said spreading his legs apart, making room for her.

As her nightgown landed on the cold floor, she climbed up those stairs, then positioned herself between his legs, kneeling and placing her hands on his knees.

"Hm." He cocked his head to one side as he reached for her face with one hand. "Now kiss me." He moved his face slightly closer to hers.

She lifted up a little, and sought support by resting her hands on both of his thighs. Then, that's when she kissed him. It was quick and shy.

"Surely you can do better, eh?" She nodded, and hesitantly took his face and kissed him again, but now more violently and heatedly. "That's a hell of a lot better, dear niece."

She blushed and averted her gaze. "Well, thank you." she murmured.

"Yes, much better than the first time, no doubt." Said the man with satisfaction in his voice. "Good, now I want you to feel me. I want you to feel the reaction you've caused in me." Aegon blurted out as he lowered his gaze to his own crotch, where she knew what she would find.

The princess, without a sound, moved her hands from his knees to the buttons of his breeches, slowly and sensually caressing his thighs, causing Aegon to pull his head back and bite his lip, trying to stifle himself.

"May I?" she asked, pointing her head towards the buttons of his trousers. He nodded, and she proceeded, unbuttoning them and pulling the trousers afterward, thus leaving the king fully exposed. "It's... impressive."

"You like what you see, little one?" she nodded her head in reply.

"Aha." She moaned as she brought a hand down to his crotch, and then began to massage the area, and started kissing his thighs and lower belly, which caused him to bring his hands to her hair, and clench his fists in his grasp.

"Put your mouth to better use."

"Whatever you order, Uncle." She began massaging his shaft, then massaging his balls.

Aegon let out a moan, full of pleasure, causing him to roll his eyes. His knuckles turned white as he felt her lips on his balls. But what had started as a moan of pleasure soon turned into an agonised cry, filled with a pain unimaginable for a man, as he felt a sharp, wrenching bite coming from that area.

"YOU FUCKING WHORE!" he shouted, before kicking her and sending her tumbling down the stairs. He brought his hands to her between her legs and watched as blood gushed violently.

"No more bastards nor rapes… from Aegon the Ball-less." Then she let out a laugh, the scene was so comical to her, her whole body ached from all the laughing. "Did you really think I would do any of this? If so, you were not paying attention, HA!”

The usurper came awkwardly down the stairs, staggering as he tried to pull up his trousers as best he could. "Your pathetic existence, and that of your entire filthy family, ends today." He said as he reached where she was lying, and began to kick her stomach and head. Hard.

She tried to protect herself from the blows as best she could, but with every blow she received she felt more dazed and less strength was left. Once he was satisfied, with all the kicks he had given her, he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to where his sword was resting against the throne.

"I should give your fucking head to your mother. And maybe one of your eyes, or both of them, to my brother." He said, bringing the blade of his sword close to her neck.

"That would be a very nice gesture on your part, Uncle." She mocked, giving him a defiant smile, while showing her face full of blood, both his and hers, in equal parts.

"The first thing I'll do is cut out your filthy tongue!" He exclaimed between his teeth, with fury and contempt.

"Do it." She retorted, and then he swung a blunt punch at her face, he gripped the sword tightly and pressed it against her neck, causing a flesh wound, but only a superficial one.

"And to think I was going to give you a chance to make things right." He prepared to slit her throat, but she stepped forward and spat in his face, which caused him to pause for a few moments and caused her to gain enough leverage to elbow him over his freshly made wound, where his balls had once been.

"Rot in the seven hells." She sentenced, as she rose to her feet, in all her naked glory, and gave him a parry on the hand, thus causing him to lose his grip on the sword, that once belonged to Aegon the Conqueror.

She took a firm grip on the sword, and taking advantage of the fact that he was lying on the ground, she took the opportunity to thrust it into his abdomen, causing him to let out a groan.

Without giving him a second glance, she started her way towards the door of the room, but her legs gave out and she ended up falling to the floor, being in a state between consciousness and unconsciousness. It wasn't until a few seconds later that saw the doors open and two figures emerge.

Ser Criston and Aemond.

She tried to say something, but by the time Aemond knelt down beside her and took her by the face, to check on her, and seeing also how Ser Criston covered her with his white cloak, she completely lost all senses, and so, she was plunged into darkness.

"With wounded pride, the beast will roar. The dragon will rise up and claim what is his."

"Shh... shh..." she felt a warm hand on her cheek, which made her try to open her eyes, still with difficulty, due their sore and swollen state.

"Aemond...?" she whispered as she caught a glimpse of long, silver hair, similar to hers, out of focus.

"Hey, hey my darling..." She heard a voice, on her other side. She turned her head and there he was, sitting in a chair next to the bed she was lying on. "You had us worried sick." he whispered as he took her hand and kissed it gently.

"Sissy." She heard a childish voice at the foot of her bed. She lifted her head awkwardly, and saw her little brother Joffrey, who was giving her a sweet, expectant look through his brown curls. He was not alone, beside him was Jace and, to her surprise, Luke as well -who was covered in some wounds, but nothing fatal.

"You're home, sweetheart." Said the first voice she'd heard before, she turned her face again, and there she was. Her mother.

"Mama..." she sobbed as she saw her mother kneeling beside her. Rhaenyra's eyes were filled with tears, but she still smiled at her, relieved to see that her daughter was well and back by her side. "Am I dead?" she asked in disbelief that the people she loved most in the world were in her presence.

"No, no." Her mother replied, as she stroked her hair tenderly, while crying silently.

She gave then, her husband a look. "You came back..." she whispered, squeezing Aemond's hand, with what little strength she had.

"Yes." He nodded, as he continued to place kisses on her hand. She noticed that he wasn't wearing his patch, and it was noticeable that he had been crying as well.

"You came back." The princess said again, Aemond placed a kiss on her forehead. "I can rest now... I can rest now..."

"Wha-What? What, darling?"

"I'm dying... I know I'm dying."

"No, no. Hey, you gonna be fine? Can you hear me?" Aemond pleaded, as he stroked her bruised cheeks.

"Take care of them, please..."

"Listen, I didn't come here for that, eh?" He told her, trying to control his urge to cry. He closed his eyes and found the strength to try to steady himself for her. "You're going to be fine, they're going to take good care of you. I promise you, you'll be fine, yes?"

The Red Mermaid could no longer contain herself, and began to cry. "Aemond, I'm scared. I’m so scared.”

"You're going to be alright, sweetheart." Aemond whispered before placing a small kiss on her lips.

"I'm so sorry, for everything I said to you." She sobbed as she apologised to the man she loved. “I’m so deeply sorry, Aemond. I crossed the line by saying all those awful things. It was not fair…”

"Don't worry, my love. It's okay, it's all right, okay?" he murmured, she nodded relieved to hear him say that. “There is nothing you can do that is impossible for me to forgive you for, alright? I forgave you of anything you ever could do the day you said you trusted me."

“I love you.”

“And I, you, my precious love…”

She smiled softly. "Mom, I'm sorry I didn't keep my promise." She whispered giving a glance to her mother and younger siblings, who approached her.

"Sweet girl, you've done well, okay? All that matters to me is that you are back home, with your family." Rhaenyra said, as she gave her only daughter a reassuring smile.

Luke placed his hand on hers, and soon after, Jace and Joff did the same, resting their hands on his in a sign of bonding and support. "It's going to be alright, sister."

"We're proud of you." Jace said with a small smile.

“We love you, sissy.” A Joff with no front teeth said, sweet.

Someone knocked on the door of the room, it was Daemon, the closest thing she had to a father, who was accompanied by the Maester of Dragonstone. "The Maester has arrived, he's going to take care of her."

And that was the signal they needed for everyone present to leave, except Aemond who stood by the young Velaryon. She gave a glance to her family, and finally to Daemon, who gave her a smile and a nod. "I'm glad you're back home."

"Will you stay?" She asked Aemond, once they were alone, save for the Maester who nimbly began to prepare his things to attend her.

"I'm not going anywhere, I'll never be away from you again." Aemond said, as he continued to stroke her hair. "And may the gods save anyone who tries from my wrath."

"What has become of Aegon?" she asked fearfully. She felt her body begin to tremble after thinking of all he had put her through since she was a child. "Does my mother know anything of what he did to me?"

"No, she doesn't, I haven't been able to tell her. It was not my place to do so, you must be the one to make the decision as to whether she should know or not, and I must not be the one to tell her." The Targaryen prince spoke as he ran a hand through his hair, which was loose from its usual updo. "And about Aegon, I don't know. I don't know if he lives or not, we'll soon find out, I assume."

"I see." She closed her eyes and let a halting sigh escape her split lips. Suddenly she opened them as she remembered that it was not just Aemond who had come to her aid. "What happened to Ser Criston?"

"He is dead." Her husband confessed with regret. "He stayed behind, fighting so that we could get to Vhagar and Scarlex... He gave his life so that we could made it here."

"Oh, I-I see." She whispered, feeling inwardly conflicted emotionally at the news of her biological father's death. "I'm grateful to him, then, for giving us this opportunity."

"So am I." Aemond smiled at her, resting one of his hands on her belly. She stared at him in disbelief, speechless.

He knew about the baby.

"There's something you should know. I'm-"

"I know. Don't worry, I know." The smile he gave his dear wife, the woman he loved most in the world, radiated a tremendous warmth, one that made her melt with tenderness. "I've known it for some time, in fact. You haven't bled in two moons, basically most of the time we've been sharing a bed."

"But I only found out yesterday. It's still too early for you to figure it out." The woman was to stunned to speak.

"Do you remember what I said about wanting to keep abreast of all matters concerning you?" he asked in a slightly joking tone.

She nodded. "And... what do you think about it?" she asked expectantly.

"I hope the babe has your beautiful, radiant smile. I hope they have your wit and your kindness, my beloved." He said before lowering his face to hers and kissing her tenderly.

"I love you, very much."

"I simply adore you."

"You won't regret it, will you? Choosing me over your family." she asked as she admired his face, and caressed his exposed scar.

"YOU are my family." He said, pressing his forehead to hers. "And I would choose you over all things, again and again."

Perhaps the princess's plan to destroy the greens had failed miserably, but the relief she felt, despite having gone through that dark and macabre nightmare, was in some ways worth it. And she knew that if given the choice to go through it again, she would accept, because she knew she would find him in her arms at the end.

He was definitely her safe space, her husband, her lover, her confidant, her friend.

And above all, her person.

[mm2324]

Author's Note: Sorry for the late uploads. When I wrote this story, I was inspired by the song TRAITOR by Olivia Rodrigo. It was meant to reflect the connection between Rheanyra and Criston, but it turned out differently. Here is a new story about Rheanyra and Criston.

" I am carrying his child"

Rheanyra thought, gently touching her swelling belly. The child of him and her, the result of their passion during that fateful night in her bed. A memory that now seemed distant.

She whispered those words when she spotted him, Sir Criston Cole, with the Queen. "How everything has changed," she mused with a solemn expression.

She hadn't meant to cause him pain, but she had failed to find the right words to explain. After their wedding, she sought him out, never expecting that rejecting his proposal would lead to this. She refused to blame him though. Despite her efforts to talk to him afterwards, he seemed out of reach, avoiding her gaze with a hint of hatred.

Her heart ached as she recalled his vows, knowing too well of their doing which cause everything to fall apart. She had deceived and manipulated him. Feeling betrayed, she realized they had both deceived each other, but the child was the only thing left from their shattered promises. Broken and betrayed...

[thebaileybee]

[sunflowerstories]

On Begged and Borrowed Time

Inspired by that Criston x Rhaenyra edit and Ivy - Taylor Swift (y'all broke me with this one ok)

Pairing: Criston Cole x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Laenor Velaryon x Rhaenyra Targaryen

Tags: Angst, Fix-it (kinda), Laenor is a good guy okay he needs love and better PR in this fandom, Possible multi-chap, Sadgirl Rhaenyra is a simp for Criston

Summary:

Ser Laenor Velaryon and Rhaenyra Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone are married. But with the spectacle of her lover murdering his in their wedding feast, both are languishing in their home in the Red Keep. Rhaenyra feels the weight of being heir and starts to wonder if her disgraced lover, Ser Criston Cole, was right about Essos. Ser Laenor, who feels for his wife as much as she does for him, decides to find a way to keep her from wasting away. 

Chapter 1

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, The Realm’s Delight, known for her beauty and wit, is wasting away in her chambers in the Red Keep. Her hair, usually in beautiful braids, lay uncombed and unkempt on her shoulders. She changes from one night dress to another, her dresses remaining untouched and gathering dust in her closet. She refuses to eat, save for a few sips of water, and many many glasses of wine. She drifts off from one drunken stupor to another, refusing to speak to anyone, even to her father, the king of the seven kingdoms himself, King Viserys. 

The king, flanked by his loyal kingsguards, is reduced to a pleading mess at his beloved daughter’s bedroom door, pleading for her to eat, to say something, to do anything at all. 

“My girl.” pleaded the king, tears in his eyes. “I blame myself for this. For all of this.”

The king weeps, clinging to the knob of the princess’ door. “I hurt you.”

The princess, sitting on a table by the window oblivious to her father’s pleas, pays no mind and takes a long, big sip of wine from her goblet. 

Dornish Red. The humor of the gods sometimes. 

The king, slowly losing hope in getting through the walls of his beloved daughter’s heart of ice, once tearfully pleads with the princess for audience, to calm the storms of her heart that were his making. 

But was it his making? 

-

On another side of the Red Keep, Ser Criston stands guard to Queen Alicent Hightower, who is sitting on the Iron Throne, listening to the concerns of the realm in her husband’s absence. 

His armor has been a lot heavier than he first donned it, especially after the night the princess had taken it off of him. Now that talk of the princess languishing in her chambers are making rounds in the castle, his already tattered heart shatters even more. 

“Rhaenyra hasn’t eaten for days.” he hears Princess Helaena whisper to her mother, the queen. The astute Queen Alicent may not have been on good terms with her stepdaughter and former friend, but a look of worry paints her face quickly at Helaena’s words. 

“Send the maester to her, mother.” says the kindly young princess, “She’s ill.”

“She refuses to listen to father. What makes you think she’ll listen to the maester?” huffed Aegon, drunkenly, sipping on his tenth cup of ale for the day. 

A furrow makes its way to Queen Alicent’s face. Rhaenyra has always listened to her. Maybe she’ll listen to her now? 

Ser Criston swallows down the bile that had been rising in his throat. Maybe he’s to blame for all of this. If he had just refused that princess that night. Maybe if he just kept his stupid heart in place and knew where he stood. 

A relief washes over Criston as he sees Ser Arryk Cargyll arrive to relieve him from his shift. As soon as the knight made his entrance known to the queen, Ser Criston bid his queen farewell for the day, hoping that back at his chambers in the White Sword tower, a bottle with still enough ale left awaits to soothe him. 

-

Ser Laenor was not any worse than his wife. His beloved was snatched away from him by the Stranger, on his wedding day no less, by his own wife's lover, of all people. The gods did have a strange humor.

He takes out all this anguish and pain in swordplay, tearing down training dummies one by one to pacify the rage in his heart, spending more time in the training yard more than the marital bed with his wife. 

While he couldn’t love her the way a husband should love a wife, he cared for her. The princess has always been close to her Velaryon cousins, and he couldn’t ask for a better marriage of convenience than his beloved cousin and friend. 

As much as it pains him to lose his first love, his Knight of Kisses Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, to the princess’ beloved himself, the lowborn Ser Criston Cole, he could never fault her for the actions of her beloved. 

As much as it pained him to admit, no amount of gold or power they earned could ever make them happy, take away their pain. 

Laenor was about to strike down another training dummy when a ward of the Red Keep calls for his attention. 

“Ser Laenor, I apologize for interrupting.” says the nervous young girl, who he recognizes to be one of his wife’s handmaidens. 

“You interrupt nothing.” Laenor says kindly, putting down his long sword. 

“The king pleas for the princess to see him. “ the handmaiden tells Laenor with obvious sadness on her face. “The princess refuses, still.”

“He is stood at her door, ser.” continues the handmaiden “He refuses to leave.” 

Laenor wipes sweat off his forehead. He put this longsword back to its hilt on his belt, walking towards the handmaiden who leads him back to the chambers he shares with his wife. 

It was possibly the longest walk of his life, with all his thoughts and guilt crashing down on him as he made his way into the halls that lead to the royal chambers. 

When was the last time he spoke to Rhaenyra?

He tried. He spoke to her, but all she gave him was a small, sad smile. He had the kitchens prepare her favorite meals, which she politely tasted but still refused to eat. He offered to take her back to Driftmark, offering the hospitality of his family and the calming sea breeze to cure whatever ills her, but she refused. 

What was left for him to do?

Laenor had the training yard, his dummies, his sword. But what did Rhaenyra have? 

Ser Joffrey was gone. He doesn't have to be reminded of his loss everyday, as long as he does not let his mind linger onto his memories for too long. 

But Ser Criston lives. And everyday, the princess has to see him. To look at him. To speak to him. To have their lost love roaring back to her, all while reminding her the best thing to ever happen to her is in plain sight, but will always be out of her reach.  

He hated Ser Criston for murdering his beloved. He could put him to death if he liked. After all, his family is the wealthiest, most powerful in the realm, next only to the house of the dragon themselves. 

But he remembers Rhaenyra. Her tears at his expense. How she comforted him in their mess of a wedding. How she offered him the freedom to love as he pleases despite their marriage. 

He knew what it was like to lose the one you love. 

He could never do that to her. 

Laenor and the handmaiden arrive at the door of their marital chambers, where he finds the king, ill and aging, desperately clinging to the door handle, and to whatever remains of his daughter’s love for him. 

“Your grace.” Laenor greets, saddened by the king’s state. “I apologize for all of this. I shall speak to my wife.”

“There is nothing to forgive, ser Laenor.” replies the king. “Had I tried to listen to her…”

“Let me speak to my lady wife, your grace.” offers ser Laenor, feeling sorry for the sickly old man that rules the realm. “I will do everything to restore her joy and her health.” 

Laenor gives the king’s hand a reassuring pat. The king, understanding the young lord’s sympathy, truly believes that her husband could make a difference. King Viserys steps away from the door and makes his way back to the throne room, while Laenor takes his place by the door. 

“My love? Rhaenyra?” calls out Laenor, knocking on the door. “It’s me.”

In seconds, he hears the door make a small sound. 

“Laenor.” was all she said, his presence comforting her. 

Laenor enters the room, as the princess returns to her seat by the window. He notices many empty bottles of wine on the floor. 

The princess, still a beauty despite the disheveled hair and crumpled night dress, gives him a small smile. 

“I can’t stand seeing you like this.” says Laenor, grabbing one of the wine bottles and filling a goblet for himself. “Please tell me what I could do. What I need to do to help you.”

Rhaenyra gives him a small, sad smile, the kind he always saw her wear since they married. 

“Nothing.” says the princess. “You being here is enough.”

-

Laenor couldn’t believe what he was doing. Of all the times he had the misfortune to run into Criston Cole, it took everything in him not to pommel his face in, the way he did with his Joffrey. 

In fairness to the lowborn knight, Criston looked every bit guilty whenever Laenor’s eyes would meet his in the court, and this possibly would be the only reason why he hasn’t murdered him yet. 

This and Rhaenyra, his wife. 

Laenor knew Criston would be training in the yard at this hour, and he knew it would be an opportune time. 

As he moves closer to where the Dornish knight stood, he notices his presence and immediately faces him. 

“You really are a skilled knight.” says Laenor, impressed with Criston’s reflexes. “No wonder your princess chose you.”

Your princess. 

Laenor’s words echo in Criston’s mind, along with the princess’ voice from all of his memories of her. He so wanted to drive his sword deep into the Valyrian knight’s heart for mocking his pain. 

But then he remembers. 

“I apologize, ser.” says Criston, quicker than he would have liked. “I know nothing I do could ever…”

“You can never bring him back.” says Laenor, the sting of Joffrey’s loss in his heart still fresh and painful as ever. “But there is one thing you can do.” A feeling of relief and fear crept into Criston’s heart. What did Laenor want? A quick death for him by his hand? Throw him in the black cells? Send him to exile in Dorne?

But he owes him. That, Criston knew. Whether he liked it or not, he is at Laenor’s mercy. 

He takes in a breath, gathering himself and his thoughts, readying himself for the young lord’s sharp sword - or sharp words - when the Laenor’s words take him aback. 

“Your princess needs you.”

[tantasila]

Ya çok yanlış zamanda karşılaştık ya da hiç karşılaşmaması gereken iki insandık. Biz neydik bilmiyorum. Sevgili desem değil aşık desem değil bildiğin rastlantıydık işte, ondan öteye gidemedik…

[nyeisha95]

Criston Cole fought in one battle where 3 dragons were present and fought each other and was like “Oh I get it now…… I ain’t shit”, and that’s literally the best his character has been all series, and probably the best character Arc in the entire season!!!

[heavenhatesme]

Alicent and Ser Crispy Cream having a righteous flirty session.

Meanwhile Gwayne Hightower:

[shuichiakainx]

🤟😂🖤

[ophelieverse]

Otto on his way to Dragonstone to apologize to Rhaenyra after dealing with Aegon bullshits:

he regrets everything

[blakeswritingimagines]

Leaving Kiss Prints On Them

Aegon: He's amused, maybe intrigued as to why you've done it in the first place. But at the same time, he would be strangely touched, flattered that you would want to leave your mark on him, to show others that you own him.

Aemond: As he looked into the mirror, the glistening traces of a deep red lipstick print stood out boldly against his pale complexion. A sly smirk played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the mark's presence. The memory of the partner flashed through his mind, your passionate kiss leaving a lingering kiss upon his skin.

Jacaerys: "Oh, you cheeky wench", Jacaerys exclaimed, surprised by the bold display of affection from his partner. He touched the mark on his cheek, feeling the slickness of the lipstick and a smile playing on his lips. "You know you're marking your territory?", he teased. "This better wash off, or I'll be walking around with your signature smudge for days."

Lucerys: He would blush and smile genuinely, appreciating the sign of affection from you. He'd gently touch the lipstick print, feeling a sense of closeness and love. After a moment, he would take your hand, intertwining your fingers and pulling you close for a tender embrace.

Rhaenyra: Upon realizing the lipstick mark, she would feel a rush of warmth and affection. She'd reach up to gently touch the mark, a sly grin curling her lips in appreciation of the affectionate gesture. Her fingers might linger there for a moment, tracing the faint outline of the mark, her thoughts filled with the memory of the kiss that left it behind. "Attempting to mark your territory, huh?"

Daemon: He'd chuckle, running his hands through his hair before giving you a playful smirk. With a gentle tug, he pulled you closer until your front was flush against his, a hand moving to rest at the curve of your waist. "Leaving your mark on me again, darling?" He says, arching a brow in amusement.

Alicent: It is a pleasant surprise to find a mark of affection on her cheek, like a colorful stamp of love. She might glance into a mirror to appreciate the delicate contour and color of the imprint against her skin. A smile would likely spread across her face, touched by the thought that you took the time to leave this intimate memento as a silent declaration of tenderness. She might even feel a slight flutter of affection, feeling her cheeks warm up with a hint of bashfulness.

Helena: When you leave a lipstick print on her cheek, she feels a mix of amusement and flattery. She can't help but smile at the playful gesture, knowing that you've marked her as yours in a subtle but endearing way. The glossy imprint on her skin reminds her of your presence and the affection you have for her. As she catches a glimpse of the colored stain, it serves as a pleasant reminder of the intimate moment you shared or the playful banter you engaged in.

Harwin: He would chuckle softly as he felt the warm, familiar softness of lips against his cheek, leaving a trail of a vivid lipstick stain. The subtle scent of sweetness and roses gently drifted to his nostrils, prompting him to lift a hand and brush his fingers against the mark. A soft smile played on his lips. “You’ve left your mark, I see,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice, though the words were laced with an unmistakable fondness.

Cregan: He noticed the lipstick stain on his cheek and ran a finger over it, a sly smile spreading across his face before he turned to you, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Well, well, it seems someone has marked her territory." He leaned back in his chair, still smiling as he regarded you with a playful gleam in his eyes. "And here I thought I was the possessive one."

Criston: At first, a flush of embarrassment washes over his face as he becomes self-conscious of the lipstick mark. However, it quickly dissolves into a smirk at the realization that you have marked him as yours. A wave of possessiveness washes over him, and he can’t help but feel a sense of pride knowing that everyone will know whom he belongs to. The rest of the day, he’ll find himself subconsciously rubbing his hand over the lipstick print, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

[yandereunsolved]

Seer reader: "Today is gonna be totally normal."

Approximately thirty seconds later—

Yandere Aegon: "Which one of us is more likely to marry you?" Deep breath "Is it me or Aemond? Is it me or Aemond?"

—

Yandere Rhaenyra: "It is good to have you here. You will surely aid us in the war."

Seer reader: "H-How did I get all the way back here?"

Yandere Daemon smugly standing in the corner after he kicked a child and stole you back from Team Green.

—

Yandere Criston Cole: "I will protect you with every bone in my body."

Seer reader: "You can't protect me from the horrors."

Yandere TB & TG: "We're the horrors."

—

Yandere Aemond: "Mine."

Seer reader: "I am a bastard, my prince."

Yandere Aemond: "That just means you will have to marry me and have my children to be considered legitimate."

—

Yandere TB & TG: "Whose side are you on?"

Seer reader: "The side of my freedom." Eyes the map and looks at Essos.

—

Yandere Helaena: "You're very pretty."

Seer reader: "Thank you."

Yandere Helaena: "Did you know the copulation process is exceptionally long among ladybugs? It can last more than two hours. Is that how your visions work? Are they induced by your hormones? If my husband were to couple with you, do you think you would end up getting a vision in the middle of it?"

Seer reader: "I—uh."

Yandere Helaena: "If we were to entwine limbs do you think our process would be close to that of a ladybug? We were both given divine gifts. It would make sense if it took that long for us."

Seer reader: whispering "Daemon, Rhaenyra, Jacaerys, save me."

—

Viserys: Gets down on one knee

Seer reader: "Oh my gods, it’s finally happening."

Viserys: Dies.

Seer reader: "The poison kicked in."

—

Yandere Daemon: "Three words. Say them and I'm yours."

Seer reader: "Three words."

Yandere Daemon: "A win is a win. A win is a win."

—

Seer reader: Running around the castle panicked, blind, and with a bloody nose.

Yandere Daemon: "What did you see, my dear?"

Seer reader: "Nobody died. I promise."

Yandere Rhaenyra's mother senses kicking in: "WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!"

—

Yandere Alicent & Yandere Ser Criston worrying over Seer reader and the fact Yandere TB will try to kidnap them again.

Seer reader: "Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve."

Yandere Alicent: "I think you mean cards."

Seer reader, pulling knives out of their sleeves: "No, I do not."

Both yanderes silently questioning how you got those knives.

—

Random noble: "Do you have a spouse?"

Seer reader: "Emotionally, or legally?"

—

Yandere Helaena: "Treat spiders the way you want to be treated."

Seer reader: "Killed without hesitation."

Yandere Helaena: "No!"

—

Seer reader: "What time is it?"

Yandere Aegon: "I don’t know. Scream and we’ll find out."

Seer reader: Screams.

Yandere Criston COLE: "WHO THE FUCK IS HURTING SEER READER AT TWO IN THE MORNING!?"

Yandere Aegon: "It’s 2 am."

—

Seer reader: Looks at draft. "That is way too long."

Author: "I'm making it longer."

[greenqueenhightower]

The primary reason I love the Greens is that they are so messed up. They are not perfect, they are not disinfected and favored by the narrative, and they are raw to the bone; they are real.

Aegon is as real as a devastated and soul-crushed father gets whose grief translates to anger and violence. Helaena’s silent inner turmoil and anguish haunt the Red Keep. Alicent has become a wreck as she weighs this tragedy the only way she knows how: against her own failed moral compass, holding herself responsible.

Otto sees his strings of power stretch and snap as he pursues the unattainable dream once more. Criston feels unworthy and consoles himself with the deception that he remains unsullied by still bearing a white cloak to his name, having been absolved of his original oath-breaking years before. And Aemond refuses to acknowledge any weakness or softness in front of his family so he seeks consolation elsewhere.

This green family doesn’t know how to process emotions, doesn’t know how to grieve together, and can’t find solace in each other’s suffering despite yearning for comfort. Otto doesn’t know how to comfort Alicent, Alicent doesn’t know how to comfort Aegon, and Aegon doesn’t know how to comfort Helaena.

Larys exerts his influence and puppeteers Alicent to his own liking by giving her a much-desired grasp of agency over political affairs. Alicent finds escape in undiscovered indulgences that give her the intoxicating illusion of control over a lifetime of servitude. Criston succumbs to the addictive drug of being desired and wanted on equal terms. The Greens live in a vicious circle of unhealed trauma, a bottomless pit of fears and insecurities, and a tangled web of deception and control.

They are wounded, dysfunctional, and forsaken, and that makes them so intriguing.

[mm2324]

Author's Note: I'm back with another Rhaenyra x Criston stories. I plan to share stories monthly, as there are only few of Rhaenyra x Criston stories remaining.

This story continues from the previous oneshot I wrote, which is still untitled. This time, we’ll explore Ser Criston’s perspective. In the next chapter, I’ll ensure that Rhaenyra and Criston engage in some lively dialogue and a title for the oneshot. Enjoy!

ONESHOT #1 CONTINUATION

Ser Criston stood watch like a lone wolf under the cloak of night, his senses sharp and alert. Memories of the evening with the princes danced in his mind, igniting a fire of longing within him. In this stillness, while the world around him lay in slumber, he remained ever vigilant, anticipating a threat that loomed in the shadows. Little did he know, the true danger was embodied in the very princess he admired.

As dawn broke, it was time for him to relinquish his post and seek rest, knowing that the day ahead would be long and filled with duty once more. Yet, a storm of anxiety brewed within him at the thought of facing the princess after their shared moment. Would he be able to maintain his composure? His thoughts raced like wild stallions, each one more frantic than the last, until the door swung open, revealing the one who had ensnared his heart. His pulse quickened, thundering in his chest like a galloping steed. Could she hear it? And if she did, would she embrace what lay between them?

The princess approached Ser Criston with a radiant smile that lit up her already enchanting features. "Good morning, Ser Criston," she greeted, her voice like a gentle melody. Ser Criston felt his tongue tie itself in knots, stumbling over his words like a fish flopping out of water. "G-Good morning, Princess," he finally managed to utter, his heart racing.

As he pondered the day’s events, his reverie was interrupted by the princess's voice "If someone seeks me, kindly tell them, I am in the library." It struck him as odd; the library was not her usual haunt at this hour. Typically, she preferred the shade of the werewood tree, where she would lose herself in the pages of her favorite tales.

A flicker of concern crossed his mind, and he considered following her, wanting to keep her company and stand guard at the entrance. But his thoughts were abruptly halted when she added, "It's okay, Ser Criston, I will go alone. Please take some rest. The day is long, and you require energy for your daily duty."

Ser Criston, ever the stubborn knight with the fiery spirit of his Dornish heritage, couldn't help but interject. "Might I inquire, Princess, what brings you to the library at such an hour?"

"I wish to explore some books that I have yet to read," Princess Rhaenyra replied, her voice steady and resolute.

"But at this hour?" Ser Criston pressed, a hint of disbelief in his tone. He relished this rare moment of conversation, granted by her own request. Others would surely envy the connection they shared, yet the princess remained unfazed.

"The time I choose to spend and the places I visit are of no concern to you," she retorted, her gaze unwavering.

Caught off guard, it was the first time the princess had addressed him in such a manner. Her unwavering gaze met his with a determination that was unmistakable; after all, she was Rhaenyra Targaryen, forged from the flames of her lineage, resolute and unyielding. He found himself at a loss for words.

Noticing the confusion etched on his face, the princess softened her tone. "I apologize for my sudden outburst. I understand your responsibilities, Ser Criston, but may I have a moment to myself?"

"Of course, Your Highness," he replied, the words slipping from his lips. Yet, beneath the surface, a desire to delve deeper into her thoughts stirred within him. He longed to offer his support, to uncover the weight she carried, but he held his tongue.He knew better than to defy her wishes.

[thebaileybee]

As promised, a teaser of chapter 2:

Criston had been with the Princess the night that Prince Aemond had been born. He had heard her pace the length of her bedchambers like a caged lion until, all of a sudden, the door of her chambers had opened and she had wordlessly set a brisk pace away from them. Criston had dutifully followed her, of course, until they reached the Heart Tree in the Godswood where she had sat, a barely lit oil lamp in her hand, and opened a large book on her lap. They had stayed there for hours, the gentle murmur of the pages turning and the scarce hoot of a nearby owl their only company, until the bells in the Keep’s Sept rang to welcome the new Prince of the realm. Criston had seen Princess Rhaenyra sag against the Heart Tree and close her eyes for a moment whispering into the night in High Valyrian. When they had silently made their way back, she had asked him to inquire after the Queen’s health on the morrow before closing the door.

It had been different on the night of Prince Jacaerys’ birth. The Queen had dined with her ladies until the candles had been almost out, Arbor gold flowed into the chambers like Blackwater Rush flowed into the bay, and the laughter roared over the sweet notes of the lute and through the hallways in discordance with a Keep that kept mute, the silence only broken by the ghost of a scream full of pain. Criston had stood outside the Queen’s chambers, wishing he could drown his senses in the ruckus that reigned on the other side of the door, if only every echo that managed to travel from the rooms he had once called home and reach his ears wouldn’t shake him to the very core. Ser Harwin had appeared several hours later on his way to the King’s chambers, his pace slow and his head down, exhaustion seeping out of him in waves that hit Criston as the well-practised blows of a skilled swordsman. Criston had dreaded the worst then, when Ser Harwin had somberly lifted his eyes to find his, and kept on walking without a word. Fear twisted in his belly, tugging at the strings of the broken heart that he wasn’t sure would survive another blow. 

“A healthy Prince,” Ser Harwin had said, having stopped a few paces ahead. “He shall be named when Ser Laenor arrives in the morrow.”

“The Princess?” Criston had croaked back.

“She will live. She loves her boy too much to leave him behind.”

“I shall tell the Queen. Her Grace will be pleased.”

Ser Harwin had huffed in disbelief and walked away. Criston had been grateful for the sound of his boots against the stone floor for covering the silent sob that escaped him.

[imthefkgsupreme]

Harwin Strong was the only man brave enough to beat Criston Cole's ass and for that, he's dearly missed

[daemonsdarksister]

Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen are back in

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON 2 (2024)