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girlwiththoughts13 · 4 months ago

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The Blackest Green

Aemond Targaryen x F!reader/ Daemon Targaryen x F!reader

Warnings: Incest/ P in V /infidelity/ Age-gap/Minor breeding kink/

Word count: 4k

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Aemond Targaryen was an intellectual. The cost of being the object of his elder brother and young nephews jests, was that there was no place he could turn to. With no dragon, no companions, no love, his studies of the histories, his mother tongue and his extensive training with the sword, soothed the ache of his inadequacy.

As well as the shameful lusting of his half-sister Rhaenrya's child. He couldn't recall when he developed these feelings for the girl but he knew he resented himself for it. She was the only one of Rhaenrya's children that inherited valyrian features. Sliver hair that you always wore in a simple braid in order to allow the rest of your locks to flow long down your back, striking violet eyes that looked straight through anyone who gazed into them. You were a mystery to him. He couldn't tell whether you were a bastard or the true born daughter of Laenor, as it seemed Rhaenyra had made you all on her own. However, your beauty went beyond your mother's, it was fact in his mind that no one would ever be able to compare. When you smiled or your eyes met his, his chest burned, his heart attempting to free itself from the confines of his chest and jump into your hands. Regardless, you were the enemy to Aemond and he would not allow himself to fully indulge in these sinful thoughts, your brothers were menaces and although you never participated in his humiliation he had no doubt you were just as savage as the rest of them.

After his eye was taken his hatred grew for Rhaenrya and her bastard children, but as much as he tried, this hatred did not extend to you. To compensate for the immeasurable loss and to eliminate any strife between the families a marriage pact between Aemond and Rhaenrya's daughter was made. Although deep down they all knew that this would not uphold the weight of the growing divide.

You were allowed to journey back to Dragonstone with the rest of your family, only being 10 summers old, it was agreed that you would not wed until you flowered.

That day came at the age of 5 and 10. On the dock leading to your ship, Your mother, the crowned heir stood tall in front of you, looking to you as the great leader you knew she'd be. But you could tell by her misty eyes and the slight tremble in her movements, sending you away to the greens was breaking her heart as it was yours. It was not your desire to leave and be thrown to the wolves who would surely tear you apart for the blood that ran through your veins.

"You must be strong, my girl, you are my heir, the future queen of the seven kingdoms, don't forget that and don't let them forget it either" You nodded hastily as she brought you into a tight embrace. Over her shoulder you locked eyes with your step-father Daemon who had fought very hard to break this betrothal but to no avail. His hand rested on the pommel of Dark sister knuckles white with tension. Daemon had spent these many years on Dragonstone teaching you.. about everything. He said it was to prepare you for the land you would one day rule. He gave you a curt nod which you knew was his way of saying goodbye without all the sentiments. Rhaenrya slowly detached herself from you in a way that let you know she didn't want to. She brought her hand to your check and softly stroked the skin there, staring deeply into your eyes to commit you to memory. There was a very real possibility she would not be seeing you for years to come.

"We won't be there for the ceremony but I'll be in here every step of the way, I promise" She rested her free hand on your heart as a tear slid down your face.

"Goodbye mother"

Being married to the one-eyed prince was not at all the death sentence your brothers had made you to believe it was. It was simply fine. Your arrival to kingslanding was well received and your wedding celebrations were beautiful. No expense was spared for the favorite child of Queen Alicent, no matter how insignificant his station was as a second son. Somewhere along the lines you and Aemond found a way to coexist in peace..in a semblance of care. You would break your fast together, watch him train, ride your dragons and perform your martial duties. Marriage had at last allowed Aemond's heart to open the door to the room that was always meant for you. He knew that you cared for him but it was your love he was after and he had no doubt he'd successfully receive it one day. In the one year you were married your womb did not bare the evidence of his seed, however, he had much fun with the process of conceiving a babe, therefore there were no complaints from him. He instead took this time without children to learn about you as you were. Your favorite color, flower, time of day. You would humor him only when you felt like It; you were greedy with your time and attention, mainly spending that with your grandsire. When he died it broke your heart you had much love for the man and would visit him regularly. But there was an eagerness to ride and alert your mother yourself of her new title of Queen.

One tug at the locked doors of your chamber and you knew what you tried so hard to ignore. Mere hours later Aemond entered your chambers, you wasted no time rushing over to him before he even fully closed the door, grabbing his lapels and pulling him close.

"Tell me what has happened and don't lie to me" Tears were already pressing against the back of your eyes.

"Viserys is dead" Aemond turned into the fearsome man that everyone knew him as, cold and unyielding. "Aegon will be his successor" The moment the words left his lips you released your hold and let out a sharp gasp as if someone had knocked the air from your lungs. "He will be crowned before the masses as his family stands behind him-loyally" You look up at his insinuation that you'd ever support that drunken fool. A scoff escapes you.

"Do you think I will stand behind a usurper? My mother is the rightful Queen and I her heir" Your voice gaining more volume as you spew the proclamations.

He hand reaches out for your arm, pulling you harshly to him "You're my wife, you will stand beside me, without argument" Though you give no further fight, you rip your arm away and turn toward the bed. Aemond lets you go, granting you some reprieve.

Unlike Princess Rhaenys you were not able to escape. Aemond was highly paranoid and had kept you with him at all times. Going as far as moving you into his chambers; Although he was gone for most of the day with you locked within the room with nothing but the walls and your own thoughts as company. Alicent visited you once, attempting to coax you to see things from her point of view. You told her that her and her false king could go fuck themselves.. she never returned.

Night fell and with it came harsh winds that rattled your windows. You regularly added more wood to the hearth to keep yourself warm. It was there you found yourself when Aemond entered the chamber. His steps were erratic and his breaths uneven. "Has anyone been in here?!" Gone was his usually calm and quiet voice replaced with a manic tone. "The door only opens by your hand husband" you answered sarcastically. Your humor vanished at once when he hasty made his way to Maegors tunnels ensuring they were still sealed. You stared into his back remaining seated. "Has something happened?" It was as if he forgot you were there with the way he jumped to you.

He walked quickly and kneeled before you. Hands resting on your hips. "You must know it was not my intention... Vhagar she just.. she wouldn't listen to me anymore..you see" He whispered his eye trained on your stomach. You placed one hand on top of his. "Okay, okay, I hear you, tell me" you were gentle with your voice and touch, understanding this was what he needed from you. Aemond inhaled deeply and finally looked up.

"I killed Lucerys"

The world turned early quiet which then gave way to a ringing so loud it drowned out whatever he was saying. You saw his lips moving fast before your eyes began to blur. His hands beneath yours suddenly burned, so you pulled away from him all together, standing. Your weight was too much for your shaking legs, you made it all of two steps before collapsing, forehead pressed into the ground, mouth beginning to let out pained wails. Your little brother, too kind, too gentle, dead and in such a violent way. Aemond crouched beside you and put his hand on your back wanting nothing more than to comfort his wife. You crawled away from him, screaming all the while. "Get away from me!!"

You made it to your vanity using it as a crutch to lift yourself from the floor. You made quick work of grabbing the small dagger hidden beneath the furniture, the one Daemon had gifted you on your 2 and 10th nameday. You pointed the dagger at him. "I'll kill you". Lunging for Aemond with the intent to kill but no real power behind it. He grabbed your arms and held them high above both of you. "I'm so sorry, my love, stop" Retraining you was no real struggle for him. The dagger dropped to the floor as the fight continued. When he released your hands your palms opened flat against his chest as you pushed him, then again, then a slap across his cheek "Kinslayer" push, slap, "Fight back!" you yelled straining your voice. Wrestling a bit to lower your arms he crushed you into an embrace holding you there as you cried and squirmed. His head rested on the top of your own, whispering apologies.

Since then you scarcely saw Aemond. He avoided you like the plague not wishing to see the anger and hatred in your eyes. You were at abed when your doors were thrown open. You sat up immediately knowing Ameond would never enter your rooms in such a way. The stench of wine and debauchery that was Aegon's signature scent invaded your nostrils. He stumbled his way over to you, calling your name, laughing all the while.

Aegon took a seat at the end of your bed and extended his upper body to you. "Sweet sister, are you not so lonely without your dear husband?"

"What is it that you want Aegon?" In no mood to entertain his idiotic tendencies.

Ever the jester on a mission to embarrass his little brother at every turn, Aegon retold the accounts of his late night adventure in the city. How he went into a brothel and found Aemond curled up in the arms of the madame of the establishment like a new born-babe. It was nice he said how Aemond still found himself with his first woman. It was at times difficult to understand with the crude words and his growing laughter. By the time he was done he had gotten drowsy enough to lay his head down. The soft snores that emitted from his mouth let you know he was down for the night. Aemond the kinslayer, Aemond the unfaithful husband. How much could you take of the shame he forced upon you. With a new determination you knew the fool had left the door unlocked and as Aemond assured the kingsguard there was no way for you to exit, it was unguarded.

Cannibal wouldn't have been tamed into the dragonpit. There was no point attempting to find him there. He wouldn't be to far either, not without his rider. In the long hallways, you pulled your common looking cloak around your self tighter, paying special care to hide your sliver locks. Sending a quick prayer to your gods you pushed open the chamber and it gave way without fuss. Entering you made swift strides to the tunnels in Daemon's old chambers. Once again opening with just a shove.

Somehow you made it to water, a little off from the docks to avoid being seen. When you bring your pointer and middle fingers into your mouth you ready yourself to make it worth it, you let out a loud whistle. There won't be a second chance until people come looking for the source. A beat of silence passes than another. Suddenly you hear the distinct flapping of wings and the wind blowing harsher in your face. Thank the gods cannibal does not let out a roar, as if he's aware of the delicacy of the situation. When he lands at your feet, lightly as he can, you break for his back to climb atop him. Once properly situated he flys high above in the sky, no commands leave your lips but you know where he's taking you, home.

Rhaenrya was restless. The loss of her son and the enslavement of her only daughter. The taking of her throne, her inheritance. The greens had taken so much from her. And yet she still hoped foolishly to avoid war. It was a tiring thing keeping Daemon at bay. He smelled blood. As if he didn't already want Aemond Targaryen's head on a stick for taking you from him, now he has murdered Luke and Rhaenrya was doing nothing about it. He was fully prepared to fly to the red keep and bring you home. It's this same argument he brings to the war room, hovering over the painted table.

"I can go personally. No one will expect my arrival" Daemon is determined facing his new Queen. Jace stands between Baela and Rhaena believing no one to be as affected by your absence than his step-father. "Yes because no one would do something this rash Daemon" Rhaenrya counters. "If we send anyone at all it should not be someone of your high station Prince Daemon" Rhaenys wisely counseled. This meeting was one for those who shared blood, no other lord was present in the room which Rhaenrya was glad of.

"She's the heir to iron throne the longer we wait the faster they''ll kill her" His words were rough to convey the urgency. "Alicent will not kill my daughter" There was still faith in her heart that their friendship during youth held importance to Alicent. "Oh just like she wouldn't take your birthright Rhaenrya? Or kill your son?!" A feign chuckle followed by a huff of bitter words

"Enough! She's my daughter Daemon, Mine and I have decided there's nought to be done for the time being" Rhaenrya commanded the room as now was her right, Rhaenys let the corner of her lip curl forward at the prince's reprimanding. Daemon gives the Queen a cold stare before stomping out of the room.

Rhaenrya sighs while turning to her son walking toward him. "I will bring your sister home, I have not abandoned her, but there are right and wrong paths to go about it and Daemon's way is the wrong one" Jace always thought that all of Daemons 'ways' were the wrong way, he gave a nod to his mother "I know mother, I know"

"DRAGON!!" Knights scurried around the fortress attempting to arrange the scorpion with haste. "Alert the Queen now!"

Grateful that she had not gone to bed after her spat with Daemon, The Queen made her way to the top of the watch towers to oversee the scorpions. They were in position and awaiting her command. Her violet eyes scanned the skies when she spotted the dragon and their rider. A strangled cry escaped her "Stop! It's my daughter!", The knights made quick work to dismantle the weapon "Stand down it's the princess"

Rhaenrya practically ran down the steps. She felt as if her eyes were deceiving her and you'd vanish once again. She stopped a foot away from you as you climbed down your dragon. There was a pause when you hit the sand, taking each other in before you both ran into each others arm. She pressed your head into the top of her breast holding you there, rocking you gently back and forth. "Oh my girl, my sweet girl" She grabbed the sides of your face with both hands looking you all over "Are you hurt?"

"No mother, I'm okay, I'm home" You cried, tears falling.

Rhaenrya and her daughter made their way back into the castle, hand in hand. The queen leading them back to the war room, where she instructed a guard to alert her family to gather. The weight in your chest disappeared when the door gave way and you knew you were in the presence of your true family. Jace spotted you first and stepped forward to wrap you in his arms. He stepped aside to allow your cousins Baela and Rhaena to give you quick embraces followed by "I'm glad you're safe cousin".

Your mother tugged you to her side once again to assure herself you were safe.

A moment passes, all cries and laughs, when the door crashes open. Daemon wordlessly moves forward into the room making a beeline for you. He brings his arms around you when your within reach and stares into the eyes of Rhaenrya over you shoulder while having you in his hold, still upset you had to make your escape all on your own which could have resulted in your death. He turned his head so that his words would only reach your ears.

"Gōntan pōnta renigon ao" Did they touch you? Daemon does not know what he would do if he hears of any wrongdoings brought upon you, his sweet dragon, his purest little girl. "Daor kepus" No uncle.

He steps back and allows you to be swept back into Rhaenryas arms.

It had taken a while to convince your mother that you would be okay in your chambers alone. There was no greater desire than to sleep in the safety of your acestral home and forget the war to come. You sat at your vanity in nothing but your shift combing your hair after a much needed bath. The warmth and weight of a palm fell on your shoulder, you shuddered.

"Kepus" you turned head and he moved his hand to catch your chin and tilt it up. Daemon had never seen such a beautiful sight. A siren if he ever knew one. He was convinced that you had bewitched him. His gentle niece, so eager to learn from her uncle.

"Skorkydoso gōntan ao jiōragon hen, gōntan aōha valzȳrys jikagon ao kesīr?" how did you get out, did your husband send you here? As much as he believed in your strength, he was surprised to see you escape on your own unscathed too. "Daorys iksin jurnegēre, nyke geptot" No one was looking, I left, you shrugged, there really was nothing more to it and It didn't matter now.

You stood to your full height but your uncle towered over you nonetheless. Daemon stared down at you with the same lust he did those few years ago. His hand came up to your shoulder once more this time dragging your sleeve down, freeing one of your breast. he repeated this action to the other, never breaking eye contact as your shift pooled around your feet. His big hand came around your jaw and his thumb stroked your lips softly, barely there. Hand falling down to your neck which he grasped tightly, jealously had a hold on him at the thought of the one-eyed bastard laying his filthy hands on your soft skin. Skin that belonged to him, that was made by him.

You came up on your tip toes in attempt to catch his mouth with yours but he pulled back slightly, a smirk gracing his face. He leans down and you turn your face so his lips meet your cheek which he delivers gentle kisses onto. When you face each other your noses brush together, not being to wait any longer you both press your lips together. His tongue invades your mouth reacquainting himself with your taste. His fingers lace into your moonlight hair, puling you more deeply into him, his other hand falls to your lower back, he lifts you and walks toward your bed where he drops you at the edge of it. You fall back on your elbows and watch as he kneels and brings his hands to the back of your thighs spreading your legs wide for him. He pounces at your center, like a man starved, eyes closing at your sweet essence swirling on his tongue. You throw your head back and let out a quiet moan. Daemon slowly brings one finger to your entrance teasing you before it slips in easily from your wetness and his salvia. He adds another as he sucks at your clit. A shriek rushes out with your building release. Just as you're about to jump off the edge he pulls aways and presses kisses to your skin as he works his way up. From the top of your mound, to your belly, collarbone, neck, jaw, cheek, and when his bulky body that covers yours entirely rests between your legs he smashing his lips on yours once more.

Your fingers rush out to undo his laces of his breeches and the ties on his loose shirt which he shrugs off promptly. Daemon lays atop you bare, his length gliding across your glistening cunt. "Aōha valzȳrys gaomas daor qogralbar ao sȳrī gaomas ziry?" Your husband does not fuck you well does he?

Thoughts of the whore he is coddled by invades your mind. Ever since you were girl you craved a man. You would not find Daemon in the arms of anyone much less a whore play-acting as a babe. No this man above you was all fire and blood in its truest form-and nothing made you more wet than the thought. He taps your cheek "Answer me" switching to common tongue.

"No Kepus, when he laid above me, I'd imagine it was you. I'd remember all the times you were inside me, how good it felt" You pant out. Daemon groaned at your words, pushing inside you. On instinct you wrapped your legs around his waist, letting out a sharp gasp. Long has your shame gone of lying with your mother's husband; Especially when he thrusts hard instantly hitting the spot deep inside you that only he has ever reached. Daemon grunts when he removes himself from your warmth bringing his hands to your waist and flipping you around, dragging your hips up and smoothing a hand down your back, he puts his cock back inside you and begins rutting into you like an animal. You push back against him and he brings one hand around you to furiously rub at you clit. "Uh kepus I'm coming" You cry out. The wave of your orgasm is so intense you feel your cunt clench tightly in an attempt to squeeze him out of you. Daemon stuffs himself back in and chases his own release. "Iksan jāre naejot dīnagon ñuha rūs isse ao" I'm going to put my babe in you. "Everyone can see who you spread your legs open for".

"Yes! Kepus please finish inside me, I want your seed" With that and the tightening of your pussy, Daemon releases with a shout, his cock twitching inside you, seed coating your walls. When he pulls free you feel his seed run down your thighs and onto your fresh sheets.

Daemon moves to lay on his back and pulls you to his side so your head rest across his chest. His hand caresses your arm up and down, it's a nice comfortable silence, and in this moment you can both pretend that it is each other you are married too and there's no threat of war.

"Your soon to become a widow" He promises

"Good"

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 1 year ago

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When The World Is Crashing Down [Chapter 7: Keep Quiet, Nothing Comes As Easy As You]

A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you so much for reading and loving this fic. 🥰 We are now officially halfway done with WTWICD, can you believe it?! I hope you enjoy Chapter 7. 💜

Series summary: Your family is House Celtigar, one of Rhaenyra’s wealthiest allies. In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, Aemond unknowingly conscripts you to save his brother’s life. Now you are in the liar of the enemy, but your loyalties are quickly shifting…

Chapter warnings: Language, warfare, violence, the smallfolk having a bad time everywhere you look, Aemond being a menace, serious injury, alcoholism/addiction, references to sexual content (18+), discussions of pregnancy/babies, dragons, murder, some new perspectives! 🥰

Series title is a lyric from: “7 Minutes In Heaven” by Fall Out Boy.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner” by Fall Out Boy.

Word count: 6k.

Link to chapter list: HERE.

Taglist (more in comments): @tinykryptonitewerewolf @lauraneedstochill @not-a-glad-gladiator @daenysx @babyblue711 @arcielee @at-a-rax-ia @bhanclegane @jvpit3rs @padfooteyes @marvelescvpe @travelingmypassion @darkenchantress @yeahright0h @poohxlove @trifoliumviridi @bloodyflowerrr @fan-goddess @devynsficrecs @flowerpotmage @thelittleswanao3 @seabasscevans @hiraethrhapsody @libroparaiso @echos-muses @st-eve-barnes @chattylurker @lm-txles @vagharnaur @moonlightfoxx @storiumemporium @insabecs @heliosscribbles @beautifulsweetschaos @namelesslosers @partnerincrime0 @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @yawneneytiri @marbles-posts @imsolence @maidmerrymint @backyardfolklore @nimaharchive @anxiousdaemon @under-the-aspen-tree @amiraisgoingthruit @dd122004dd @randomdragonfires @jetblack4real @joliettes

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰💜

In the Eyrie, Rhaena is praying for one of the three dragon eggs in her keeping to hatch. In the shadowy ruins of Harrenhal, Daemon and Nettles are bathing in rooms thick with steam, while outside by the lakeshore Baela brings plump goats to Moondancer. In King’s Landing, Rhaenyra’s Master of Coin Bartimos Celtigar is levying heavy taxes on the smallfolk: taxes on wine, taxes on ale, taxes on inn beds and shop goods, even taxes on the bittersweet parody of love purchased in brothels, taxes on every possible distraction from the ceaseless bloodletting that has infected the world like plague. In the North, Cregan Stark is following the Kingsroad towards Moat Cailin and imagining what you will say to him when you are rescued from the clutches of the Usurper: Oh my love, my champion, my savior, my lord. But south in the Reach, Daeron is flying.

Tessarion’s scales are a blue sheen like light on the ocean; the flapping of her wings is a deafening, roaring wind. She is nimble in the air, lethally quick, banking seamlessly when Daeron asks her to turn towards the Hogs Head, an inn from which torrents of men and women run shrieking. They do not run fast enough. Tessarion’s flames are an electrifying cobalt blue like lightning. Flesh melts away, bones are charred black, screams evaporate as lungs are singed, consumed, destroyed. Daeron’s own lungs work perfectly fine; he is cackling, almost loud enough to hear over the wings and inferno of his dragon. After the inn, Tessarion burns the sept, the marketplace, the castle that is the seat of the disloyal House Caswell. There is a stone bridge, after which the town is named, traversing the Mander River. People are fleeing across it. There are children on the bridge, but this does not stop Daeron. Maelor was a child when these traitors ripped him apart with their bare hands. Jaehaerys was a child, and so is Jaehaera, who may be alive in Storm’s End or may be dead but in any case has suffered the decimation of her family, her brothers and her mother and her grandsire. Daeron is burning Bitterbridge for the Greens, yes. But he is also doing it for himself. And in the wake of Tessarion’s fire, Lord Ormund Hightower’s forces pour into the rubble of the town to seize whatever treasures it has left.

In the Riverlands, Aemond and Vhagar are setting fields of wheat ablaze and incinerating cattle, pigs, sheep, forests that can no longer be used by the Blacks and their supporters for timber. In the Citadel, white ravens are being sent out to the great houses of Westeros to proclaim the end of summer. And on Dragonstone, the Beggar King heals.

He spars with guards that Larys found, is tended by maesters that Larys recruited from the turncoat houses of the Crownlands, rules over a microcosm kingdom that Larys built for him. Aegon tires quickly, sleeps often, aches and collapses and bleeds, gets sunburned when he is outside too long on those rare clear days. But he always rises again. “Perpetual Resurrection,” he says, grinning through the pain when you caution him to be patient, to be careful. “I’m not dying. I’m becoming brand new.”

You hunt for softshell crabs together on the rocky shoreline, fill a basket with them, bring them to the cooks to serve the skeleton crew of the castle for supper. You walk through the gardens, a pine-smelling woodland of towering coniferous trees, thorny rose bushes, blood-red cranberries, indelicate creatures that can thrive in the thin, inhospitable earth here. You study the books of the castle library—an impossibly vast, ancient collection, safeguarding texts from Old Valyria—while Aegon swims in the ocean with Sunfyre, laughing and diving as the dragon glides around him in large, lazy circles. Sunfyre can fly, but only a very short distance at a time; he is ungainly when he walks on land with his improperly-healed right wing. But in the water, he and Aegon are both unbroken again. Soon they will be ready for battle. Soon they will have to leave this island, this mist-and-smoke haven, to rejoin the war effort; soon they will have to leave you.

You crave Aegon like some people need wine, rum, gin, gold, power, violence, milk of the poppy. He is ecstasy, he is consolation, he is a spell. He is your home; and any place you’ve ever mistaken for home was only an echo of the truth that you would one day find him. Even on that very first night, as the storm raged outside, you whispered to Aegon when you both woke long before sunrise: “I want you again.”

“You’ll be sore,” he warned, a warm murmur against your forehead. “We can wait. I can wait.” But already his hands were moving, and your thighs were opening, and he followed your body and your words when they told him yes, now, and tomorrow, and the day after that, and the next day too.

You smile when Aegon calls you insatiable, but you know that’s not quite it.

You are acutely aware that nothing lasts forever, not even him, not even you.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Are the days getting shorter?” you ask, your bare feet ankle-deep in wet sand. Sunfyre is out in the waves eating dolphins; a slippery-looking grey tail hangs from his snaggletoothed jaw.

“I think you just want the nights to be longer.” Aegon winks up at you. His head is in your lap, his arms linked around your waist. You are weaving his little braid for him. His hair is just above shoulder-length and as choppy as ever. He periodically takes his dagger to it and hacks away haphazardly, determined to never look like Aemond, Daeron, Daemon, his father. He burrows into the softness of your belly and shuts his eyes. “Perhaps winter is coming.”

In more ways than one, you think bleakly, picturing Cregan Stark on the Kingsroad with snow in his long dark hair and dirt on his hands. “We should ask Lord Larys if he’s heard anything.” As the Citadel—and most of the rest of Westeros—believes Dragonstone to be unoccupied, they would not have sent a white raven here. But several times each week Larys receives visitors from Eagle Harbor, and they bring him rumors in exchange for gold coins and promises that when Aegon once again sits the Iron Throne, their faithfulness will be generously rewarded.

Aegon hums agreeably; he is dozing. After a moment he says: “I keep dreaming of her.”

“Who?”

“Helaena,” Aegon says, his voice lethargic and eyes still closed. “She brings me things. Butterflies, crabs, snakes. Things that are reborn. She puts them in my hands or in my bed and won’t take them away when I ask her to. She keeps telling me: Don’t fall, don’t fall.”

You finish Aegon’s braid and comb his unruly hair back with your fingers, soothing him, listening to him. You try not to think of the way Helaena died, crushed and hemorrhaging on golden sandstone. Instead, you picture her living: strange yet gentle, tragic but kind. You see her children as well, white-haired and beautiful and doted on not by their parents but by Alicent and Otto and you…and Aemond. You remember Aemond’s quiet resentment, his simmering and dangerous envy. You recall Aegon’s half-flippant accusation: You’re always developing attachments to things that are mine. Targaryens have wed brothers to sisters since long before the Conquest, but that doesn’t mean they always got the combination quite right. “Aegon, was Aemond…was he in love with Helaena? Did he desire her?”

“No. Not like that. He cared for her, but I don’t believe he had any lust for Helaena. He just thought he would have been a better husband to her than I was. That he would have caused her less misery. That he was more worthy of carrying on the bloodline, of being the children’s father. And he was right, of course.”

“What happened to Helaena is not your fault,” you say. “And neither is what happened to Jaehaerys or Maelor.”

“I’m glad Daeron burned them all,” Aegon says quietly, meaning the people of Bitterbridge, a tale ferried to Larys from one of his numerous, nameless informants.

“I know you are, Aegon.” You can’t bring yourself to agree with him. Does one dead child bring back another? Does each swatch of flesh burned away from a supporter of Rhaenyra replace one that was sheared off the bones of a Green? No, of course not, but the wheel goes around and around and around.

In the sky, another sort of wheel: a sun that burns cool and muted behind a thicket of iron-colored clouds. High above where you and Aegon are entwined on the beach, something crosses in front of the shrouded sun, casting an impossibly large shadow. You gasp; at the sound, Aegon bolts upright onto his palms and knees and follows your gaze. There is a profound, archaic rumbling, something old and intractable like thunder, earthquakes, floodwaters rising.

A dragon, you know immediately. You try frantically to determine whether you recognize its voice. Too large to be Tessarion or Syrax, too deep a roar to be Caraxes. Sheepstealer?? Vermithor?? But no, you have heard this beast before after all, it’s—

“Vhagar!” Aegon shouts, and scrambles to his feet. As the massive swamp-green dragon disappears behind the castle, soaring rather sluggishly, Aegon sprints as fast as he can up the stone steps towards the entranceway. You follow Aegon into Dragonstone and there the visitor meets you both, sailing down a staircase with eerie lightness, his boots hardly making a sound, his long silver hair secured in a single thick braid. Larys arrives as well and stands in the dreary, torchlit chamber, appearing as he always does: face servile and tactfully intrigued, hands laced together overtop the handle of his cane, back stooped as if to make himself smaller, less threatening, more invisible.

“I got to thinking you might be here,” Aemond tells Aegon. He sounds pleasantly surprised. “You look better.” Then he notices you. “Oh. Perhaps that accounts for some of it.”

“Where’s Criston?” Aegon asks. Meanderingly, so it is sufficiently subtle, he takes several steps until he has placed himself between you and Aemond.

“Somewhere near Saltpans.”

“You left him?” Aegon is incredulous, furious.

“Temporarily,” Aemond says. “It is not the first time. Between battles Vhagar and I raze the farms and villages of the Riverlands. Criston and his men are more than capable of fending for themselves. I’ll be back in a day.”

“You’re supposed to stay with Criston,” Aegon insists, speaking slowly and deliberately as if to a child who might have difficulty understanding. “You promised that you would. The war is on the battlefield, not on goddamn farms.”

“And what feeds Rhaenyra’s forces? Is it not grain and cattle? And so if I destroy their food supply—while our own soldiers are still receiving regular shipments from the Westerlands and the Reach—am I not inflicting catastrophic damage to the Blacks?”

“You’re burning…civilian property?” you say to Aemond. “You’re killing women and children and old people? You’re laying waste their homesteads?”

“It’s total war.” Aemond stares at you defiantly; there is no suggestion of self-doubt in his face. “It is a well-documented strategy employed across continents and centuries. We kill soldiers on the battlefield. We endanger their families back home. Many men will desert to return to their imperiled wives and children. Others will starve. All are broken. All are rendered ineffectual to our enemy’s cause. And thus we will triumph.”

You and Aegon gape at him, not knowing what to say, not knowing what is right or wrong in a world where children are slaughtered and grown men murder with impunity. When will this war be over? How can we end it? Will any of our souls survive the choices we’ve made with our backs to the wall?

“My prince, you chose an excellent time to pay us a visit,” Larys offers diplomatically. “I have just received news that may be of interest to you. And you can bring it back to Sir Criston and his men when you return to the Riverlands tomorrow.”

“What news?” Aegon asks.

“Wait,” Aemond says; and he smiles, dark and hungry like a wolf, like a dragon. “I want to see the place where my ancestors made their war plans. I want to sit in Rhaenyra’s chair.”

On the top floor of the Stone Drum, the main keep of Dragonstone that booms and growls during storms, servants light the candles beneath the Painted Table and bring wine, ale, bread, cheese, honeycomb, jam, candied walnuts, red cherries and violet grapes. The map of Westeros, older than the Conquest, is striped with snakes of fiery luminance like lava. Aegon twists the gold dragon ring on his finger, its jade eyes sparkling. You gave it back to him the day after you arrived on Dragonstone; he says that when he wins the war, he will have a matching piece made for you, but with a crab in place of a dragon.

Larys cautions before he begins: “I cannot tell you the perfect truth. I can only tell you what I’ve heard from the whispers that make their way to me.”

“And what have you heard?” Aemond says. Aegon glances petulantly at him, as if debating whether to remind his brother that a prince regent is not quite a king.

“The Dragonseeds known as Hugh Hammer and Ulf the White—and with them, Vermithor and Silverwing—have officially declared for the Greens.”

“Yes!” Aegon beams and raises his wine cup. He refuses milk of the poppy, even on his worst days; he does not want to be senseless, he does not want to leave you unprotected. But he drinks red wine often and grows ill if he is without it for long. Aemond is laughing victoriously. The brothers are momentarily united.

“There was a battle at Tumbleton in the Reach,” Larys continues. “Lord Ormund Hightower was slain by Roddy the Ruin who, allegedly, managed the feat after one of his arms was severed clean from his body. These Northmen are formidable beasts, to be sure.”

Aegon looks at you, a fleeting, fearful look.

“The people of Tumbleton believed the battle to be over, but then Vermithor and Silverwing joined Tessarion in torching the city. All the Blacks’ commanders were killed, along with most of their soldiers. And the city was sacked. There are reports of looting and…well, all manner of indecencies being committed against the civilians of Tumbleton, mostly women and children. Even septas and silent sisters.”

Now an awkward silence settles over the Painted Table. Ruin, heartbreak, agony, death; but somebody else’s. It could have been yours instead. Perhaps tomorrow it will be. Perhaps there is no end to suffering, only a reallocation of it to people who you do not know, do not love. Perhaps the debt can never be satisfied but only passed to another.

Larys goes on: “The people of King’s Landing are petrified that the Greens and their dragons will descend upon them and subject the capital to the same atrocities that Tumbleton experienced. Rhaenyra had to order the gold cloaks to seal the city gates to keep her supposedly loyal subjects inside.”

“The smallfolk’s support for her continues to weaken?” Aemond says.

“It does more than weaken. Many people there detest her. Bartimos Celtigar has imposed heavy taxes upon the city. The smallfolk fear that Daemon has abandoned Rhaenyra, and therefore that they cannot expect protection from Caraxes and Sheepstealer. And…” Larys peers around the Painted Table apologetically.

“…And?” Aegon presses.

“Rhaenyra’s youngest son…Viserys…” Larys sighs, an anemic, perfunctory breed of sympathy. “He is dead. Of illness, it seems. The luckless lad.”

“He was always sickly,” you say, remembering his unwaveringly watery eyes and dripping nose. And you almost say Poor Rhaenyra, but then you remember how the Blacks celebrated Maelor’s death with cheers and rare, bloody boar meat.

“Yes,” Larys concurs. “That is what the people believe, that he perished due to natural causes.”

Aemond is watching the Master of Whisperers closely. “What does Rhaenyra think caused it?”

“She suspects poison,” Larys tells him. “She is convinced of poison, I should say. She raved and she threatened and she spewed accusations. She executed a dozen people, none of whom could be connected to the death of the boy with any certainty. The smallfolk feel she has gone mad. And there is one more crime the people have branded her with.” Larys turns to you.

Your heard pounds wildly, hot blood thuds in your ears. “Has something happened to Everett—?”

“Not him. The Celtigars themselves are safe from her wrath. Bartimos is too near to the throne, and Rhaenyra trusts him. But the servant girl—Autumn, you called her—she went into labor a month early and was delivered of a boy.” Now Larys’ eyes flick to Aegon, whose face goes pale and panicked. “A boy with blue eyes and silver hair.”

Aemond rocks back in his chair and shakes his head.

“Oh,” Aegon moans. “Oh.” He clutches his chest with one hand and looks to you. He says weakly: “I’m so sorry, Angel. It didn’t mean anything. The child…it…it will never really be mine—”

“It won’t be anyone’s,” Larys says. “Rhaenyra had him run through with a sword.”

“What?!” Aemond exclaims. “A baby? An infant? In her own castle, in the Red Keep?”

You are horrified. “Did Autumn witness this?”

“I’m not certain, my lady,” Larys replies. “What I have heard is that Rhaenyra proclaimed it vengeance for agents of the Greens murdering her youngest son. She declared all bastards of the Usurper to be enemies of the realm and thus sentenced to death. She has offered rewards for anyone who brings a white-haired child to her for execution. And the smallfolk are absolutely, viciously appalled by her. The Street of Silk in particular is rife with people plotting the so-called queen’s downfall. She is surrounded by enemies. And she has only two male heirs left.”

“Two more than Aegon,” Aemond mutters.

“Is Autumn alright?” you ask Larys. “Did Rhaenyra harm her?”

“Your brother Everett attempted to advocate for Autumn and the child. He was ignored; your father and eldest brother were vehemently in support of the murder. Shortly after the baby was killed, Autumn disappeared from King’s Landing. I’m sure Everett facilitated this escape. No one knows her present whereabouts.”

“She’s just gone? No signs whatsoever?”

“Nobody ever knows anything.” Aemond waves at Aegon. “They think he’s in Dorne.”

“Seven hells,” Aegon whispers, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Rhaenyra is destroying herself,” you say. “She is doing the work for us. If you try to take King’s Landing with dragonfire raining down on Green supporters who are effectively held captive, there will be ill-will against you in the capital that will last for generations. But if they overthrow Rhaenyra on their own, you can reclaim the city bloodlessly.”

Larys taps his fingers meditatively against the Painted Table. “I do wonder if Daemon would intervene to support her. His present motivations are…somewhat nebulous. To Blacks and Greens alike. But he controls their most powerful assets.”

“You haven’t crossed paths with Caraxes and Sheepstealer in Riverlands, I assume?” Aegon asks Aemond.

“No. We are locked in a dance of sorts. I’m not certain that Vhagar can win against two dragons of that size; they must know that it is almost certain that at least one of them would be killed in the struggle even if they defeated me. This Nettles girl’s dragon riding skills are unclear. Perhaps Daemon is training her, perhaps he is now sufficiently attached that he does not want her in combat. So we avoid each other. But when the girl is gone—when Daemon tires of her, or when Rhaenyra sends assassins to murder her, or when she is removed from the board by some other means—I will meet Daemon in battle and end him.”

“Your priority is protecting Criston,” Aegon orders; but there is trepidation in his large, ocean-blue eyes, there is defenseless worry there. “Wherever Criston goes, you go with him. I’ll be ready to fight again soon. I’ll be able to help you.”

“Daemon is mine. I want to face him alone.”

“I am the king!” Aegon thunders, and you can see the strength leaving him like birds taking flight from cold, bare winter trees. “You will not behave recklessly. You will not abandon Criston. We are winning in the Reach, and we are winning in King’s Landing without even being there, and we will win in the Riverlands too if you don’t sabotage us with your relentless fucking pride.”

You and Larys study Aemond. He examines the flame-colored light of the Painted Table, tracing the etchings of rivers and mountains with his fingertips. “Fine,” he concedes, very quietly.

“And one more thing,” Aegon tells his brother.

With great reluctance, Aemond meets his gaze. “Yes?”

“If you have the opportunity to burn Cregan Stark, take it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Aegon collapses into the bed you share, you curl up against his scarred chest, listen to his heartbeat, breathe in heat and rose oil and the salt of the ocean. He does not ask you what is wrong. He does not speak of Autumn or her child, his child, no matter how indifferent or remorseful he might have been. He holds you knowing that there is nothing he can say to make the world whole again. He can only rest until he is well enough to fly into battle, where he might be further maimed or taken captive or murdered. And what then? What was this all for?

“Somewhere there are people just living,” you marvel. “They’re reading books, they’re having supper, they’re getting married, they’re tending to their crops and their animals. And none of them are thinking about war or massacres or dragonfire.”

“Yes,” Aegon says simply, pulling you in closer, one palm pressed to the small of your back and the other brushing your hair away from your face so he can kiss you, soft and slow. “But they’re not us.”

When Aegon is on the edge of sleep, you tell him that you love him, as you do each day. He has not heard it enough in his life; you are trying to remedy that now. And as always, Aegon does not say it back. Instead, he murmurs something in High Valyrian that you cannot understand. Now you commit it to memory, repeating it silently to yourself again and again until Aegon is sleeping deeply and you can rise from the bed without disturbing him. You go to your writing desk and scribble it down on a small piece of parchment: the way this word sounds in the letters of the Common Tongue. You have no way to translate it. There are books written in High Valyrian in the castle library, but you do not know the alphabet of the language, and you have yet to find a text that can teach it to you. When you ask Aegon for lessons, he demurs and says that he doesn’t know High Valyrian well enough to teach you. You think he just wants a way to say things you won’t be able to comprehend. You squirrel the parchment away in the pocket of your gown and slip out of the bedchamber you share with Aegon.

It is far too early for your mind to stop racing, only sunset. You wander down halls of shifting shadows and iron dragons, fantastically high ceilings and narrow slits of windows. Questions fill your skull like rushing blood in the chambers of a heart: Where is Autumn? Is she alright? Is she safe? Is Everett, is Jaehaera, is Alicent? Are Criston and Daeron? Are any of us?

When you cross through the doorway and onto a balcony that overlooks the ocean, Aemond is to your left. He is nursing a cup of wine and leaning over the stone wall that separates you from a long, treacherous fall onto black rocks that jut out of the sea like the hilts of daggers from a corpse’s back. You whirl away from him and towards the craggy staircase that leads down to the beach.

“Now you’re going to pretend you didn’t see me?” Aemond calls out.

You halt mid-step, consider it, then return to him. “You’re just so undistinguished in appearance. So easy to miss.”

He gives you one of his enigmatic, teasing smirks. His hair blows in the breeze that tastes like salt and sulfur and mist. He wears a dark, lush green. Then he peers avoidantly down into his wine. “I…I don’t think I ever adequately apologized for what transpired regarding the brothel. The Pink Pearl.”

“You didn’t.”

“It is a place…” Aemond pauses. He chooses his words cautiously, like handling something that could easily break, a glass goblet, an egg, a butterfly in an open palm. “It is a place that I associate with great unpleasantness. I made assumptions about where your loyalties lied. I felt that you had hurt me, that you had caused me to suffer. And I wanted you to suffer in return.”

“It was a horrific thing to do,” you say pitilessly. “It was cruel. It was evil.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that now. That’s why I’m apologizing.”

“Then do it properly.”

“I’m sorry,” Aemond says. It takes some effort. “I was wrong.”

“You were.”

“And I’m glad Aegon was able to haul himself out of bed to rescue you. It’s not often that he gets to be the noble brother, the gallant one.”

“It happens more often than you’d think.”

Aemond raises his eyebrow. Beneath his eyepatch, you know, is a winter-cold sapphire in a bed of mangled flesh, a treasure steeped in corruption. “How long have you been here?”

“Two months.” No, more than that. “Two and a half, or thereabouts.”

“And I assume there has been no shortage of…horizontal activities with my brother.”

“Not exclusively horizontal,” you snap, to make him regret being so forward, to make him uncomfortable. “We are more inventive than that.”

It works; Aemond flushes a gory mottled pink. Still he manages: “And you have not yet conceived?”

You glare at him, ice and fire at once. “No.”

“Why do you think that is?”

You shrug, exasperated, dismissive. “Aegon has been through so much physical trauma, perhaps he is no longer capable of having children. Perhaps I never was. Perhaps it will happen in a month or six months or a year. Perhaps it is not meant for us. Only the gods know.”

“You aren’t at all concerned?”

In truth, no; you are so consumed by whether Aegon will survive the war with any vestige of humanity intact that anything beyond this seems hopelessly distant, a constellation, a shadow on the moon, the silvery gleam of a comet. “It’s not something I spend much time thinking about.”

“It should be,” Aemond insists. “If the Greens expect men to go to war for us, for women to give up their husbands and sons to us, we should have a stable succession to offer them in return. Jaehaerys and Maelor are gone. Jaehaera is a girl and cannot inherit even if she is alive and well in Storm’s End. Aegon needs an heir.”

“Aren’t you next in line for the throne, Aemond?” you say cuttingly. “And isn’t that the role you believe yourself best suited for? Being king? Proving how worthy you were all along?”

He is uneasy, perhaps ashamed, evading your eyes. “Regrettably, I cannot begin trying for my own sons until the war is over and I marry Borros Baratheon’s daughter, as I pledged to in return for his support for our side. Daeron will not be able to marry for several years. In the meantime, there is this…disquieting lack of certainty. To complicate matters, Aegon has bastards in King’s Landing, I’m sure. The red-haired girl was far from the first whore to lie with him. If he does not have a trueborn son, claimants will appear to challenge mine or Daeron’s for the throne.”

You search yourself—unspoken longing and ancient cobwebbed fears—for any desire for a child of your own. You cannot find it. You are fond of children, you find fulfillment in caring for them, but the need to carry and deliver one yourself? It is not something you can remember ever yearning for. It always felt like yet another way in which your body would be used to further some man’s legacy, to give him pleasure at your expense. “Can you tell me what this means?” you ask, handing Aemond the folded piece of parchment that you’d tucked into the pocket of your gown. He takes it with one long, lithe hand. “I’ve probably spelled it wrong. I’ve never seen it written, only heard it spoken aloud.”

Aemond opens the parchment. His river-blue eye narrows; thoughtful creases appear in his brow. “Aegon has said this? To you?”

“More than once.”

“What prompted it?”

“Does your translation depend upon the context?”

“Hm.” Aemond skates his thumbprint over the dried black ink. Then he looks at you. “It means: To your misfortune.”

The alarm must show on your face.

“Not like a threat,” Aemond clarifies. “It is a common expression. It suggests that someone has entrusted something of value to the undeserving. It implies naivety. Unwise benevolence. But it is certainly not malicious. It is usually said fondly, like a backhanded compliment.” He returns the parchment to you. You rip it over and over again until it is only scraps that vanish in the wind, Aegon’s voice speaking to you: I ruin causes. I ruin people.

“Why did you kill Luke?” you ask Aemond, not accusingly but with hushed, weary wonder. “There was very little strategic advantage in it. There was great peril as a result. Rhaenyra will never surrender, never negotiate. You will forever be known as a kinslayer. You could have taken him captive. You could have humiliated him, you could have shown the world how weak he was. Why did you have to kill him?”

Aemond says nothing for a long time. He stares out over the ocean where the sun is setting, dolphin fins cut in swift arcs through the surf, Sunfyre dozes on wet sand, the sky glows dream-lavender and blood orange. He sips his wine and contemplates things that are mysteries to you. Aemond keeps his thoughts like untrustworthy animals: in cages, in darkness, turning fierce and feral, snapping jaws and rattling chains. At last he says: “They’re all dead anyway. They were from the moment Aegon was born and my father refused to name him the heir. It’s all of them or all of us. You think there is any scenario in which Aegon reigns as king while Rhaenyra’s children survive? No, no. Someone will always be willing to fight and die for them. Just like Green loyalists would have been willing to fight for Jaehaerys and Maelor.” Something shifts in his face like the breaking of a wave, and for a second you can glimpse the deep well of dark, helpless misery inside him, filling up drop by drop since he was a boy. Then Aemond is steely again. “Luke had to die. So did Jace and Rhaenys and that eternally sniffling toddler Viserys. And all the other Blacks will follow. Unless you care to see Aegon’s blood spilled. And mine, and Daeron’s.”

“No,” you say softly, an agonized little whisper that understands, that surrenders. “No, that cannot happen.”

Aemond takes another swallow of his wine and drums his fingertips restlessly against the cup. “Any heir our side puts forth must have undisputed parentage and Valyrian features. Aegon’s wife is dead. He can marry you. You are a Celtigar, you share our blood, you carry the memories of silver hair and rare magic in the marrow of your bones. These attributes are dormant in you, yet could be passed on to a child. A son of yours could secure the succession and one day inherit the Iron Throne. But the father has to be a Targaryen.”

You turn to Aemond, perplexed and wary. His wording is strange. “Well, it has to be Aegon.”

Aemond is impatient, irritated. You have not been keeping up. He says, his eye on the darkening horizon: “There are other Targaryens.”

You stare at him. You don’t understand, you don’t understand, and then suddenly you do. “What?”

This is not the reaction Aemond had hoped for. He gulps down the last of his wine, leaves the cup on the stone wall, storms down the staircase to reunite with Vhagar and resume burning the noncombatants of the Riverlands to ash.

~~~~~~~~~~

He finds her at the shore of the Gods Eye, rippling blue like a vast mirror. The Isle of Faces—forbidden, undiscoverable—is a faint mirage in the distance. Moondancer is circling overhead. Baela is perched on a large rock by the water’s edge and fishing; she is intrigued by tales of the strange creatures that dwell here, the hungry currents, the way this corner of the world has only a translucent, threadbare veil between our world and the realm of spirits, ghosts, demons. She has always been curious and bold by nature. She has always been his most beloved child.

“You found your way out of Nettles’ bed,” Baela pitches, a jest but not a judgment. She is already developing an appetite of her own that renders monogamy woefully lacking. She mourns Jace, but not the woman she would have had to pretend to be for him. “I’m shocked.”

Daemon smirks, tilting his head to the side like a wolf does as it’s listening. “You know how sheets have a way of getting tangled. Around ankles, around wrists…sometimes it is difficult to free oneself.”

“You were fighting hard, I’m sure.”

“Yes, all morning.”

Baela chuckles, reels in her fishing line, recasts it. She cares deeply for Rhaenyra and is loyal to her still, but Baela shares her father’s pathological aversion to weakness. She feels that Rhaenyra has driven Daemon away with her moodiness, her melancholy, her unmooring from the fearless, ardent woman she once was. Daemon says that being with Nettles is like being with a young Rhaenyra again. It would not be just to condemn him for seeking out what Rhaenyra took from him and has no intention of returning.

Daemon says: “I want you to go to Dragonstone.”

Baela is aghast, betrayed. “You are getting rid of me?”

“I am entrusting you with a vital enterprise.”

Now she is intrigued. Now she is considering it.

“Moondancer is too small to fight Vhagar, Tessarion, Vermithor, or Silverwing,” Daemon says. “If Caraxes and Sheepstealer meet Vhagar in battle, you cannot go with us. Nor should we leave you here unprotected. And I know you have been impatient for an opportunity to play a more…consequential role in the war.”

“I long to be useful,” Baela agrees. “More than anything.”

“Go to Dragonstone,” Daemon says. “It is vacant, it is safe. But it must remain under the Blacks’ control. Patrol it and ensure the Greens do not try to take the island and find riders for Grey Ghost or the Cannibal. Rhaenyra will return to Dragonstone if she is ever forced out of King’s Landing. I have tasked you with making it ready for her.”

“And I have permission to execute any traitors who might appear there?”

“Yes. You may swing the sword yourself. Or feed them to Moondancer, whichever you prefer.”

Baela smiles, a slow, toothy grin that spreads across her face like plague, like fire. “When can I leave?”

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader

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sunfyre-targaryen · 3 months ago

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HOUSE OF THE DRAGON S2E8

i finally managed to rewatch the episode and here is again my personal opinion about it.

essos: again they want the stepstones, those damned rocks. the stepstones are like the harrenhal of the sea: everybody wants it, but nobody manages to keep it for a long time without dying painfully.

sharako lohar is really cool. kinda looks like daario naharis (the first one).

aemond burning sharp point because he was angry about rhaenyra's new dragonriders. sir, you have too many problems.

my poor king aegon. he asking himself what was the point of all of this now that rhaenyra managed to have more dragons to her side. and larys wanting to help him is kinda heartwarming but also creepy as fuck at the same time.

rhaena starving and dehydrating herself for a dragon instead of taking care of the future of house targaryen. as i said previously, this obsession reminds me of little aemond (before he became a completely menace to society).

jace beefing with ulf. he is angry with the dragonseeds and he wants to prove them that they are not like every trueborn targaryens. well, ulf jests too much about it in my opinion. seeing hugh and ulf going out of the room together, foreshadowing iykyk.

rhaenyra and corlys. he sees what she cannot, just like rhaenys, he's a good hand of the queen. when they mentioned dreamfyre, my heart melts because she's one of my favourite dragons. finally, corlys saying that his ship's name is "the queen who never was" and then we see the boleyn which pictures rhaenys holding the crown...such an heartbreaking moment.

daemon and ser alfred. daemon has already decided to let the crown go and follow rhaenyra as we understand it from his last vision when he didn't take the crown from his brother. i adored how he looks at ser alfred since we all know how he hates traitors and the details of ser alfred hearing "traitor" whispered was perfect. let us all appreciate again ser simon "no treason on my watch" strong.

alicent and helaena. it's heartbreaking. she really loves her daughter and now that alicent does not have power anymore, she fears for her life. i loved the scenes we had between alicent and helaena a lot.

AEMOND HOW FUCKING DARE YOU. your sister is an innocent and plus she is still the queen, as your mother kindly reminded you. i have to say, dear alicent, that you should have behaved like this with him before he became a fucking problem to everyone. i loved that when he looks again at helaena, alicent raises her voice to him "NOT LIKE THIS"

ser criston cole, i despise alicent for saving your life that night. "she is my beacon", it reminds of the hightower's sigil, i adore this detail. i fucking love gwayne. "then resist it", ser gwayne slaytower, the man you are. last but not least, dear ser crispy you should have imagined that a war with dragons would have been a thousand times worse than the wars you saw in your life.

jacaerys targaryen, the pout of the realm. btw, baela and jace the supreme couple of westeros.

rhaenyra at dinner with the dragonseeds. addam answering to ulf that there will be a time to show who of them is really a coward (iykyk). addam of hull, the man you are. i adored the fact that rhaenyra chooses him to go with her to harrenhal.

daemon's vision. i adored it. bloodraven, the white walkers, the death of dragons and daemon's death which also represent the loss of power of house targaryen and then the red comet and daenerys, the rebirth of house targaryen. AND HELAENA.

i hope that in season 3 we'll have a further explanation of helaena's powers and what she can do, because in that scene it's clear that she entered the vision somehow. infact, we also see her kinda smiling after it. (again, foreshadowing: she's standing on a balcony, iykyk).

helaena and aemond. he still tries to convince her to go to war with dreamfyre. she answering back at him that she knows everything and that she saw everything, she does not speak in riddles anymore, she's clear as fuck, and those words hurt aemond like a knife. "aegon will be king again. he's yet to see victory [...] and you'll be dead". and when he threatens her, she says that it wouldn't change anything. he is scared now, he knows how it will end and everything he has done for glory will only bring him into the void.

rhaenyra and daemon at harrenhal. i'm glad to hear them speak in high valyrian to each other once again, kinda missed it. daemon's speech was just amazing and pure perfection.

alyn is angry as fuck and he has all the rights to be it. when he said to corlys that he remembers them now only after the death of his children was like a slap in the face for corlys. the best part was alyn saying that if he survives this war, he will continue to live his life as it was before.

mysaria and rhaenyra. "and who pays the price?" and mysaria looking at the dragons.

alicent and rhaenyra. probably my favourite scene. alicent wearing a light blue dress as she used to do when she and rhaenyra were close friends. we can see that now they inverted their roles: alicent who tries to get close to rhaenyra while rhaenyra is cold towards her, as it was after alicent wore the green dress the first time. another detail that i appreciated is when alicent says "i lost my way", another reminder to her house since their motto is "we light the way", now she is lost and alone, she feels like a nobody, she cannot count on her house and family anymore. when rhaenyra says "still, you defend him" OF COURSE SHE IS, despite everything aegon is her son, her first son. THIS IS NOT BOOK ALICENT, as i said previously, i understand this development but i would have liked to see a bit more of book alicent. rhaenyra: "a son for son", what about what helaena have endured? did we forget about jaehaerys?. rhaenyra: "history will paint you a villan. cold queen [...]", alicent: "let them think what they must. i have at last myself [...]", i loved this. they still love and care for each other somehow, when alicent asked rhaenyra to go with her it reminded me of young rhaenyra telling young alicent that she wanted to fly with her on dragonback, see the great wonders across the narrow sea and eat only cake.

seeing everybody getting ready for what they must do kinda makes me feel anxious for season 3 even if i know what happens.

TESSARION. GLAD TO SEE YOU, MY DEAR.

i am not ready for the battle of the gullet and for tumbleton. but at the same time i cannot wait to see the battle above the gods' eye.

finally rhaena found sheepstealer.

otto in a cage, this is larys' hand FOR SURE.

aegon fleeing from KL. cannot wait to see him in season 3. he's yet to see victory.

THE FINAL SOUNDTRACK ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL, AMAZING.

the end: alicent is free. rhaenyra holds all the weight of history on her shoulders.

now we have to wait two years for the most brutal part of the story.

if you want to share your thoughts or talk about it, send a raven! 💌

#house of the dragon #asoiaf #house targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #alicent hightower #dance of the dragons #team green #asoif/got #team black #queen rhaenyra #helaena the dreamer #hotd spoilers #hotd season 2

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zeciex · 10 months ago

Text

A Vow of Blood - 62

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: “You will be trapped by the obligations of love and duty, unable to escape the web of expectations others have woven around you,“ the witch said….

Chapter 62: Waves

AO3 - Masterlist

The early morning was imbued with a crisp chill, the air holding onto the remnants of the night’s cold. Daenera, with a gentle but firm touch, lifted young Aegon from the dew slick stones. Inside, Lady Elinda welcomed the boy into her arms, embracing him as they disappeared into the comfort offered by the litter’s interior.

Through the open door, the soft, muffled cries of Viserys seeped out, his young voice tinged with the unmistakable disapproval of being roused too early. Daenera caught a glimpse of Aegon, his youthful face momentarily contorted into a sympathetic grimace at the sound of his brother’s displeasure. Leaning forward with a brotherly instinct, Aegon reached out to gently pat Viserys’ red cheek, his small hand offering a tender gesture of comfort to the squirming boy nestled in Sheran’s lap.

“Shh,” Aegon soothed, smiling gently at Viserys.

The younger boy began to quiet.

Nearby, Joffrey halted momentarily at the steps of the litter. He turned his bright, inquisitive eyes towards Daenera, his voice weaving threads of curiosity and hope. “Do you think Tyraxes has grown big enough to ride since we left?”

Daenera looked down at him, her lips curving into a light, amused smile, reflecting the soft morning light. “Perhaps a little, though I doubt it’s enough for you to notice. After all, it’s barely been a fortnight since you left.”

Joffrey’s eyes danced with the spark of excitement, “Daemon promised I could feed Tyraxes a goat one we return!”

Daemon, standing by the second litter, his posture commanding as he talked with his daughters, chimed in with a note of caution. “If the Dragonkeepers deem you ready.”

Daenera’s smile widened with encouragement as she inclined her head towards Joffrey. “I have no doubt the Dragonkeepers will grant you the chance to feed Tyraxes.”

Joffrey, excited by the prospect, stepped fully into the litter where Luke was already seated, helping him find a comfortable spot to settle for the journey to the docks.

At that moment, a soft utterance of her name captured Daenera’s attention. She turned gracefully, her gaze meeting that of her mother. Rhaenyra’s expression was adorned with a gentle, motherly smile.

“Could you please find your brother for me?” Rhaenyra asked, a subtle note of concern lacing her words. “Jace has forgotten his cloak and has gone to retrieve it, I fear he might have gotten into trouble.”

“Jace is properly still looking for it,” Daenera reassured her mother, hoping to alleviate her concerns. “How much trouble can he get into?”

“Please find him, and tell him that if he doesn’t hurry, we might just leave without him.” The playful cadence of her voice clearly indicated she wasn’t serious about the threat.

“Oh, there’s no way you’re leaving him here with me! I’ll find him and I’ll bring him back by his ear if I have to,” Daenera declared. As she spoke, she gathered the rich fabric of her gown, redying herself to ascend the steps of Maegor’s Holdfast.

The early morning was a hive of activity around her; the castle grounds teemed with people engaged in various morning rituals, while others meandered in a daze, still caught in the clutches of sleep. Amidst this bustling backdrop, Daenera navigated through the inner courtyard, her stride purposeful as she headed towards the grand staircase.

As Daenera commenced her ascent of the grand staircase, her gaze inadvertently caught the sight of her brother, his posture taut with tension. His shoulders were hunched, elevated by deep scowl directed at the silver haired, one-eyed menace, who stood leisurely, hands folded behind his back. She could already imagine the provocative smirk on his lips. Her brother loomed over Aemond, his height advantage evident only due to his elevated position–up two steps from the level on which Aemond stood. His hands, clenched into tight fists, hung by his sides, his jaw set in a firm, unyielding line, betraying his simmering frustration.

A surge of apprehension unfurled within Daenera’s chest, propelling her feet to quicking their pace up the stairs. The tension between the two was palpable, and she felt an urgent need to intervene before the situation escalated. With each step, her concern grew, her mind racing to find a way to defuse the brewing conflict and avert the likely outfall of a war.

Daenera arrived just in time to catch the tail end of Aemond’s sentence, his words trailing off as she approached, “...Ask your sister.”

Jace’s demeanor changed in an instant, his face darkening with a tumultuous blend of brotherly protectiveness. His eyes narrowed into slits, and he gritted his teeth so tightly that Daenera momentarily worried they might shatter under the pressure.

After a prolonged, tension-filled silence, Jace managed to suppress his boiling anger, though his voice dripped with contempt as he issued a low, menacing warning, “Stay away from my sister, or I swear you will lose your tongue.”

Before Daenera could reach them to intervene and diffuse the situation, Aemond’s biting retort sliced through the charged atmosphere, sending a jolt of fear through her heart.

“Your sister would surely miss my tongue,” Aemond quipped, the corners of his mouth curling into a smug, provocative smile. “And I would certainly miss the taste of her sweetness.”

His words were a masterstroke of provocation, deliberately crafted to stir and escalate the already tense atmosphere. The innuendo laced within his statement was unmistakable, a calculated move designed to needle her brother further.

“I always assumed it was your brother who excelled in depravity,” Jace answered, a muscle in his jaw visibly twitching with irritation. “But it appears his vile traits have influenced you too; you’re no different from him.”

In response to the escalation, Daenera quickly stepped in, positioning herself between the two. She placed a hand firmly against her brother’s chest, her gesture a silent but urgent call for restraint.

“Enough,” she insisted sharply, her voice laced with a commanding firmness. Her gaze, burning with a combination of worry and resolve, bore into her brother’s, silently begging him to step back from the edge of confrontation. She applied gentle, yet firm pressure against his chest, subtly but effectively steering him away from the precipice of another public outburst.

As her brother descended the steps to join her and Aemond on the middle level of the staircase, Daenera held her ground firmly.

“Do not cause another scene,” Daenera implored.

“I wasn’t–” Jace huffed, “He–”

Daenera silenced him with a look.

Jace, meeting Daenera’s gaze, displayed a look of sheer exasperation. He let out a heavy sigh of annoyance, “He’s practically asking to lose another eye, and I’m starting to see no reason not to oblige him in balancing his face.”

Daenera, mirroring his frustration yet maintaining her composure, replied with cutting clarity, “He’s intentionally baiting you. Do not satisfy him with a response. “

As they spoke, she felt an unexpected, delicate sensation on her shoulder. A single finger subtly brushed aside the loose strands of her hair, sending a shiver down her spine and raising the hairs on her body. This faint caress traced gently over her skin, pushing her hair to unveil the graceful line of her shoulder, making her skin feel sensitive to the breath that curled over it.

“Remove your hands from my sister this instant,” Jace growled, his temper igniting. He leaned forward, edging past Daenera in a fervid attempt to confront Aemond, his eyes burning with anger.

Unfazed, Aemond responded in a low, provocative tone, dripping with suggestion, “Ah, but appears she doesn’t object to my touch, isn’t that so byka ābrazȳrys?”

Feeling a visceral reaction to Aemond’s presumptuous reference to her as his wife, Daenera squirmed away from him. She swiftly maneuvered to push her brother back from Aemond’s reach while simultaneously swatting at him. Her hand struck his arm with a solid thud, and she sharply reprimanded him, “Piss off!”

Jace pointed an accusing finger at Aemond. “My sister would never consent to marry someone who’s half a man and a thief at that!”

A flush of warmth coursed beneath Daenera’s skin, stirred by the intensifying confrontation. Maybe she ought to let them make fools of themselves before the entire court, as long as they kept her out of their quarrel.

Aemond, undaunted, fired back with a dry retort, “I may have lost an eye, Lord Strong, but I assure you, I am twice the man that you will ever be.”

“Jace,” Daenera cautioned, her tone a clear signal of warning as she sensed him halt abruptly. His gaze flickered to her, before darting back to Aemond.

Jace raised his hands, signaling a truce of sorts, neither moving closer to Aemond to beat him to a pulp nor retreating as his sister wanted. He drew in a deep, intentional breath, visibly gathering his composure under the watchful eye of those around him.

“You’re right, sister,” Jace conceded, his voice now stable but carrying an icy edge. “Engaging with such provocations is beneath me. It’s disheartening, uncle, to witness the depths of your bitterness. One might have hoped for you to have accepted your own fault in the incident, but it appears your past grievances has made a callous man out of you.”

He paused for a moment, his gaze unwavering. “It’s truly tragic. One is left to wonder if my brother’s actions did more than rob you of an eye – perhaps they stripped something essential from you.”

His gaze briefly dropped, conveying a clear, unspoken message.

“You might conceal the loss of your eye,” he began, his voice laden with implication, “but the… honor you’ve forfeited… that’s not something you can hide.”

For a fleeting moment, Daenera shut her eyes, sensing the weight of Jace’s words as they landed. She was acutely aware that without her intervention, their verbal sparring would likely have devolved into an outright brawl. One of them would have been thrown down the stairs, or both of them.

“I pity you, uncle,” Jace continued without a note of pity in his voice. “It’s a real tragedy that you’ve allowed the loss of your… eye to define you…”

Daenera’s hands gripped Jace’s shoulders and forced him towards the stairs, a knot of frustration sitting at the top of her stomach. She firmly guided him down the final set of stairs, her grip on his shoulders unyielding in her determination to prevent further conflict.

From behind them, Aemond’s retort was sharp as ever. “Your pity is of no consequence to me, Lord Strong. I may have lost an eye, but that is all you and your brother have taken from me. Your sister is well aware of this fact. Ivestragon zirȳla, byka ābrazȳrys.”

Daenera scowled as she felt the slight resistance in Jace as he obviously wanted to have the final word.

“I’m looking forward to seeing whether your fighting skills have improved by the time you return,” Aemond continued with his taunt. “It will be quite a pleasure to defeat you at your best, proving that the loss of my eye doesn’t hinder my ability to outmatch a pup such as yourself.”

Daenera shot a final, scathing glare at Aemond, whose self-assured smirk only served to affirm his success in provoking her brother. His air of smug satisfaction was infuriating, especially when Jace rose to the provocation.

Her brother, typically composed and measured in response to mockery, seemed to come undone in Aemond and Aegon’s presence. Given that each of them had a way of getting under one's skin, Daenera couldn’t help but exult an exasperated breath. She knew Jace knew better, and yet, he rose to their provocation against better judgment. It was infuriating.

As Jace attempted to shrug off Daenera’s persistent hands, she continued with determination, firmly grasping the collar of his doublet as she changed direction and dragged him into a vacant chamber. The abruptness of her pull elicited a stifled grunt from Jace as the fabric momentarily constricted around his neck.

Once secluded, Daenera faced him squarely, her tone a mixture of irritation and worry. “What was that about?”

Jace, smoothing out his doublet and adjusting the collar to a more comfortable position, locked eyes with Daenera. His expression was hard, tinged with a sense of resignation.

“Don’t put this on me. I was standing up for you, for your dignity,” Jace said petulantly. “You wouldn’t believe the insinuations he made, the lack of respect…”

Daenera pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out an exasperated breath, “What exactly did he say to you?”

Jace was quick to dismiss the question, his head shaking in adamant refusal, his hands sweeping across his face, his posture one of frustration.

Not satisfied with his evasive silence, he pressed on, her voice growing more insistent. “Tell me, Jace. What did he say?”

“I don’t want to repeat his vile words,” Jace said firmly, his stance on the matter unyielding.

Daenera let out another exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes. “We can’t afford another scene like yesterday’s. This is exactly what he wants – to provoke you into causing another spectacle.”

Jace scowled at her. “He is the one who caused that scene with–”

“And you responded–”

“I know what he’s trying to do!” Jace responded, his voice laced with anger and frustration, a sneer on his lips.

“If you know what he’s trying to do, why do you rise to his provocation?!” Daenera argued. “They’ll see you as the hot-headed one, the one who acts rashly and without thinking–”

“I am painfully aware of his game,” Jace cut in, his voice both rising in volume and frustration, no longer able to mask his irritation. Confronting Daenera, his expression was a mix of disbelief and concern. “He couldn’t be more transparent. ‘Wife’ – that’s what he calls you, right? His ‘wife.’ I may struggle with High Valyrian but I know that much. Ābrazȳrys.”

“It is meaningless–” Daenera said warily, dragging a finger along the curve of her brow as she tried to ease the pounding within her head – the pounding of her heart.

“It’s not ‘nothing’, Daenera,” Jace countered sharply, looking at her with an accusatory set to his brows. “What I can’t fathom is your apparent nonchalance in all this–”

“Nonchalance?” Daenera repeated, her voice rising with a blend of surprise and irritation. Her brows furrowed deeply, reflecting her growing frustration. A mix of disbelief and anger churned within her, as intense as the flames flickering in the hearth.

“Yes, nonchalance! You seem unaffected when he presumptuously calls you his wife. You don’t intervene when he encroaches on your space – when he has the audacity to touch you,” Jace’s voice was charged with fury, his words tinged with accusation. “How can I remain composed when he insinuates such intimate familiarity with you! As a man knows his wife…”

Daenera’s mouth fell open in shock, a hot flush creeping up her cheeks, her heart pounding in disbelief. She was going to strangle Aemond.

But Jace was relentless as he continued, “He’s deliberately trying to dishonor us by labeling us as illegitimate, as Strong bastards! His accusations against our mother are outright disrespectful, and aimed to weaken her position. He understands the repercussions his words bring upon us, he knows that it means and yet he has the audacity to say them anyway! He even has the audacity to defy the King’s authority. And now, he’s not just insulting us, he’s trying to ruin your reputation with his vile insinuations, putting your virtue at risk by implying–”

“I’ve been married, Jace. My ‘virtue’ isn’t a matter for you to defend anymore,” Daenera snapped, her voice sharp with irritation.

“And what of your honor? Your standing? Am I to just watch as he turns it into a mockery, making you the laughing stock?” Jace’s voice rose in exasperation, his hands flailing in a mix of frustration and annoyance. “I’m your brother, I’m supposed to protect you against such vile insinuations.”

Drained, Daenera leaned against the edge of the table, a deep, weary sigh escaping her lips. She pressed the heel of her hand against her eye in a vain attempt to alleviate the prickle of tears. A tight knot formed in her throat, her emotions a tumultuous blend of frustration, sadness, and exhaustion.

“You’re my younger sister,” Jace said, his tone shifting, the earlier heat now replaced with a softer, yet still deeply frustrated and concerned timbre. “I am supposed to protect you from men like him.”

Daenera let out a mirthless laugh that bordered on a scoff.

“Aemond bears only malice for you, for all of us… for what happened,” Jace continued. “He would ruin your reputation if given half a chance. He’s not forgiven us, and I have no doubt he’s plotting his revenge.”

Indeed, Daenera was aware of Aemond’s past intentions to bring about her downfall – her ruin. He had openly confessed to such designs. Yet, now his tactics had evolved; he seemed driven to wreak havoc in her life, using her as a pawn to aggravate her family. And she suspected that this… confrontation between him and Jace was a way of lashing out, of sinking his claws into her, all because she was leaving.

“Jace,” she said, her voice a weary whisper.

“I can’t even begin to fathom your struggles here,” Jace said, stepping closer to join her in leaving against the table. His fingers curved around the edge, taping on the underside of the table. “Dealing with the Hightowers, not to mention the ceaseless hostility from Aegon and Aemond…. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you, as your brother it’s my responsibility.”

Daenera quirked her head up, a tug curving her lips as she said, “I’ve always been more than capable of protecting myself. You know that. You’ve suffered through it.”

Jace let out a chuckle, “Are you admitting to poisoning me that time?”

“No,” Daenera answered, adopting a faux innocence. “I am not admitting to anything… I’m just saying I know how to protect myself against the likes of Aegon and Aemond.”

“Still…” Jace hummed.

“It doesn’t matter now, I’m coming home.”

“There’s something about what he said,” Jace began after a moment of silence. He hesitated as if he searched for the right words, debating whether to continue. “He insinuated… suggested there might be some sort of… relationship between the two of you… a dalliance…”

Daenera stared at him incredulously. “Are you actually asking this?”

Jace faltered, struggling to find his words. “I just… he implied that you and him…”

“Yes, I understand what he was implying,” Daenera interjected with a touch of dryness in her tone. “What confuses me is why you’re suddenly dancing around the question. His insinuations were blatantly clear when he referred to me as his wife, and when you said he suggested he knows me intimately. What was it you said, ‘as a man knows his wife.’”

Jace appeared somewhat uncomfortable, his eyes avoiding hers as he scratched the back of his neck. “Well, it’s not exactly the kind of thing a brother wants to consider.”

“Again, I’ve been married,” Daenera pointed out.

“It is different,” Jace insisted with the same tone she used.

Daenera, feeling a surge of irritation at the brother’s sudden display of prudishness, rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t he be direct with her, especially when he didn’t hesitate to accuse her of things that he now seemed to struggle to ask her about? She released another sigh, her patience wearing thin.

Observing him, she noticed the seriousness etched into his features – his brow furrowed in concern, his chin set determinedly, his eyes reflecting a deep, protective worry.

“Aemond would say anything to provoke you,” Daenera answered.

“There’s just something about him,” Jace muttered, a sense of frustration evident as he shook his head. “He just gets under my skin.”

Internally, she yearned to unveil the entire truth to Jace, to share the complex nuances of her relationship with Aemond – how he had deeply affected her, burrowing under her skin to make a home there.

Yet, she held back, knowing all too well the pointlessness of such disclosures. She knew that Jace’s capacity to understand the situation would be limited, hindered by his deep-seated inability to forgive Aemond for past grievances and the public humiliations he had caused.

“Everything I’ve undertaken here,” Daenera started, her voice imbued with a sense of purpose, “has been for you and mother, to strengthen your claim and to secure your legacy.”

“I know,” Jace said softly.

“Good, because it hasn’t been easy,” Daenera admitted. “I will tell you about it when I return.”

With a tired sigh, Daenera leaned slightly into his supportive presence. “We better head to the litter before mother dispatches Daemon to find us.”

Standing by the bustling docks, Daenera watched the sailors as they diligently prepared the ship for departure.

A peculiar sensation of unease twisted in Daenera’s stomach, her heart pulsating to a rhythm that was both irregular and tense. The disquiet within her was hard to pinpoint – whether it was mere anxiety at the impending separation or the anticipation of her own forthcoming journey, she couldn’t tell. The feeling hovered in her chest, a silent echo of uncertainty, coloring her thoughts with shades of apprehension as she contemplated the changes on the horizon.

She found a small measure of comfort in the knowledge that she would soon follow them–see them again and be with her family.

A brisk, salty breeze wafted in from the sea, carrying the distinct aroma of the open waters. Daenera descended onto the wooden dock, the planks emitting soft creaks under her steps. Her eyes roamed over the scene – the chaotic yet purposeful movement of crates being hoisted onto the ship, ropes being secured, and the sails billowing in readiness.

The ship itself was a majestic sight, its mast soaring skyward, a symbol of both hope and the impending separation. The black sails bore the striking sigil of House Targaryen – a fierce red, three-headed dragon. The brow was adorned with a golden dragon figurehead, skillfully crafted to resemble Syrax, reinforcing the vessel’s royal lineage.

The sun’s rays played upon the water’s surface, creating a mesmerizing dance of light upon the ship’s hull. In the distance, the ship Meraxes awaited at anchor, its sails furled and poised to take the departing vessel’s place in the harbor once it set sail.

In her arms, young Viserys wiggled excitedly, his small fingers pointing towards a seagull that had brazenly snatched half a loaf of bread, now hastily retreating from the irate baker. His babbling attempts at speech were as unintelligible as they were endearing, a brief moment of innocence amidst the solemnity of the departure.

Daenera adjusted the young Viserys higher on her hip, tenderly brushing his pale curls from his face before planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. The boy, absorbed in the bustling scene around him, remained blissfully unaware of his sister’s swirling emotions.

With a soft sigh, she passed him into the waiting arms of Sheran, who accepted the boy with a smile on her lips.

Turning to Aegon, she leaned down for a goodbye. The little boy eagerly wrapped his arms around her neck, planting a somewhat messy kiss on her cheek, leaving behind a trace of saliva that she affectionately wiped away. Elinda Massy gently guided the small boy away, adjusting him in her arms as they headed down the dock.

Joffrey then clung to her legs, prompting her to bend down for a proper hug. His small voice, muffled in her hair, asked, “Will you tell me stories?”

“Yes, I will read you stories when I return,” she promised, feeling his smile against her hair. Joffrey, content with her assurance, spun away and scampered after Sheran and Elinda, his small shoes tapping rhythmically on the wooden planks leading to the ship.

On board, Aegon and Joffrey continued to wave to her. Aegon, perched on Elinda’s shoulder, and Joffrey, both beaming and waving enthusiastically, created a heartwarming scene that Daenera memorized in her heart.

Turning to Luke, she quipped with a playful smile, “By the time I get back to Dragonstone, you’ll have outgrown your brother.”

Jace, ever the sarcastic one, shot back, “How amusing. Maybe you’ll pick up a sense of humor on your way home, sister.”

Daenera’s laughter was light as she playfully teased her brother. “Only if you find a pair of scissors on your travels.”

She reached up to tousle his short cropped, yet somehow long hair. The uneven cut was less than flattering, a disservice to his naturally curly and wild locks that usually added a certain roguish charm to his appearance. She mused that it might have been an attempt to look less like Ser Harwin Strong. “Level it out a bit before it grows out.”

Jace quickly swatted her hand away, attempting to smooth the hair she had ruffled. “Your thoughts on my hairstyle are of little consequence to me.”

“I’m merely saying what others are too polite to mention,” Daenera replied with an amused smirk, as he gave her a playful shove.

His comeback was swift. “Perhaps you should invest in some politeness, along with that sense of humor.”

Daenera reached up towards his hair again, playfully jibing at him as he attempted to swat her away. “Oh, you’re so grumpy. Has your short stature made you bitter?”

“Maybe it’s best that you stay in King’s Landing after all,” Jace quipped back and earned a slap on the arm from Luke who clearly disagreed with him.

Jace’s expression softened into a smile as he enveloped Daenera in a warm hug. “I don’t understand why we’re saying the long goodbyes, you’ll be back home soon enough.”

Daenera tightened her embrace. “Maybe it’s you who needs a lesson in manners. And when I return, I’ll give you a proper haircut so those curls of yours grow out even.”

Jace, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, playfully pushed Daenera away, returning the favor by tousling her hair much like she had done to him. “You’re not coming anywhere near me with scissors, I’d end up losing an ear.”

Daenera swatted his hand away, her fingers quickly moving to smooth out her disheveled hair and fixing the damage he had done to the pinned up braid.

Baela, stepping down from the ship to bid farewell, chimed in with amusement. “You trust her to stitch your wounds but not with a haircut?”

Jace defended his stance. “She’s trained in stitching up wounds, not styling hair.”

“I’m not sure I’d trust her with stitching either. Have you seen her embroidery work?” Rhaena joined in with a gentle smile that widened as Daenera scowled at her.

“Stitching wounds and embroidery are entirely different skills!” Daenera protested with a chuckle, even as Baela wrapped her in a warm embrace, her laughter ringing clearly in her ears.

“Actually, I think she’s right. You’re officially banned from any medical stitching,” Jace added, his tone teasing and laced with a brother’s characteristic jest.

As Daenera hugged Rhaena, she shot Jace a mock-threatening glance. “Next time you’re hurt, you’re on your own. I might just let you bleed.”

Jace let out a scoff, his head shaking in disbelief as he crossed his arms and with a knowing look in his eyes, retorted, “As if you could ever resist jumping in to treat a wound.”

In the midst of their banter, Rhaenyra approached, her expression soft and affectionate. She lovingly brushed Luke’s hair from his forehead, her maternal gaze filled with tender care. She then turned to Jace, signaling him towards the ship.

Jace gave Daenera one last smile, a silent message of love and farewell, before he made his way to join Baela and Rhaena on the vessel. Luke, however, lingered behind. His feet seemed rooted to the pier, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

Daenera moved closer to Luke, gently lifting his chin so their eyes met. He was growing taller each day, inching closer to matching Ser Harwin’s impressive stature. Yet his eyes remained the same, revealing every single flicker of emotion. She addressed him with a caring tone of a proactive sister. “What is on your mind?”

Luke’s voice was filled with apprehension as he answered, “Why can’t you come with us now?”

Glancing briefly towards their mother, Daenera then focused back on Luke, letting out a breath as she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “I have a few things to take care of first, then I’ll be able to join you. It’s only a few days.”

In a quiet, almost conspiratorial whisper, Luke expressed his concern further. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here alone, undefended.”

Daenera fought back a laugh, touched by his concern. His protective instincts were endearing, but came too late. The recent events, particularly Aemond’s provocative comments, had clearly unsettled him and Daenera found herself offering some comforting words.

“I’m not alone; I have Joyce and Fenrick with me,” Daenera reassured him.

Luke’s worry was evident as he mentioned the crux of his concern. “But Aemond–”

“Aemond won’t cause any more trouble,” Daenera cut him off, her hand gently stroking through his hair to comfort him. “He only said those things to provoke a reaction, and he succeeded.”

Luke’s concern seemed to deepen, his voice tinged with apprehension. “But he despises us. What if he seeks revenge for what I did?”

What if he hurts you, for what I did. The words hovered between them, unspoken but very much there, hanging like ominous clouds before a deluge.

A frown creased Daenera’s brow as she struggled to find the right words. How could she explain the intricate and volatile nature of her relationship with Aemond? The truth – that Aemond still sought retribution for his lost eye, or that she had willingly given herself to him despite that. It would only inflame Luke’s worries further and escalate the tension between them.

“Luke…” Daenera’s voice was gentle as she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly, trying to convey reassurance through her touch. “I’ll be on Dragonstone soon, safe at home. Aemond won’t risk his chance to finally be rid of me.”

As she hugged her brother, Daenera’s mind drifted to Aemond’s conflicted expressions – his claim over her, his proposal of true marriage, and the pain and disappointment on his face as she rejected it. She realized the uncertainty of their future; leaving King’s Landing meant an indefinite separation, with no certainty of what might change before her mother ascended the throne, or whether his feelings would endure the test of time.

And if he still wanted her then…

Daenera reassured him with a gentle kiss on the temple before withdrawing from him. “And once I return we’ll work on improving your sea legs, future Lord of the Tides.”

At the mention of sailing, Luke groaned, clearly not fond of the idea. “Can’t I just rule the Tides from dragonback?”

Daenera laughed lightly. “It is amazing, isn’t it? You can fly through the skies on Arrax without a second thought, but set foot on a ship, and you’re as green as the sea.”

Luke glared resentfully at the ship waiting in the harbor, then scowled back at Daenera, responding with a grumble, “A dragon doesn’t roll like a ship does.”

“How about when I return, you take me for a flight? If Arrax can carry two, show me the difference between a ship and a dragon,” Daenera said, offering him something to look forward to.

Luke’s expression transformed from concern to surprise and then to excitement, his eyes sparkling with the prospect. “Really?”

He was aware of Daenera’s longstanding reluctance to fly, having heard her repeated refusals over the years. What he didn’t know was that she had already had a taste of the skies.

The thought of sharing that experience with her seemed to lift his spirits immensely, bringing a rare, wide smile to his face.

“Yes, but it’s conditional. He needs to be big enough for the both of us, and you must have absolute control over him,” Daenera stressed, underscoring the significance of safety in their aerial endeavor. “Also, we only fly under clear skies.”

Luke’s response was filled with eager resolve. “I promise, I’ll have him completely under control!”

“Good, because I’m not getting killed because you overestimate your control,” Daenera said. “I will haunt you.”

“I promise, I promise!” His voice conveyed not just his excitement about the prospect of sharing the skies with his sister, but also his commitment to ensuring their safety during the flight. His enthusiasm was palpable, lighting up his face with anticipation.

Daenera enveloped Luke in another heartfelt embrace.

As Daenera’s embrace with her brother came to an end, she felt a gentle hand brushing over the back of her head. Turning, she saw her mother standing beside her, her gaze tender yet searching as she looked into Daenera’s face. In her Rhaenyra’s eyes, there was a flicker of hesitation, a mother’s concern subtly surfacing. “You could still join us on the ship.”

Daenera’s gaze lowered to the gentle curve of her mother’s belly. Instinctively, she placed her hand there, seeking to feel the life of the child within. The unborn baby remained still, and Daenera felt a surge of anticipation. “I think it’s a girl this time.”

Rhaenyra smiled, her own hands covering Daenera’s. “I have the same feeling.”

Daenera’s eyes sparkled with joy. “I’m so excited to meet her.”

“We’ll need to be patient a little while longer. She’s not ready to greet the world just yet,” Rhaenyra said softly, her touch tender as she caressed her belly. “But I’m sure she’s just as eager to meet you.”

“Baby Visenya,” Daenera murmured softly, imagining a little girl with silver locks running through the halls of Dragonstone, chasing after her brother’s as Daenera had done with hers.

Rhaenyra’s eyes shimmered with a touch of amusement and pride at the mention of a name. “A formidable name for a Targaryen.”

Daemon, joining them, inquired with a hint of curiosity as he gently placed his hand on the small of his wife’s back. “What name?”

In unison, both Daenera and Rhaenyra replied, “Visenya.”

Daemon nodded in approval, his voice warm. “Formidable indeed.”

A fond smile graced his lips as he gazed down at Rhaenyra’s belly, his hand tenderly following the contours of her growing bump. His gaze then drifted towards the ship, signaling the time for departure. “They’re ready to set sail.”

Rhaenyra pulled Daenera into a hug, her arms wrapping tightly around her as though she never wanted to let go. “Stay safe, my love.”

“If you’re not back in time, your brother’s will be searching every wave for you,” Daemon added, a gentle but firm warning.

Daenera let out a light chuckle, fully aware that her brothers would be vigilantly patrolling the skies and seas if she was even slightly delayed–while Daemon would likely make his way towards King’s Landing.

As Rhaenyra released her from their embrace, Daenera felt a knot form in her stomach. It was a blend of apprehension and regret, the weight of it bearing down on her. She glanced at Daemon.

“I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you,” she murmured.

Daemon scrutinized her for a moment, his lips pursed in contemplation. “You are young. Although we might have lost Storm’s End, not all houses in the Stormlands agree with their liege lord. You have your youth, wit, and no current obligations. There are still prospects for you.”

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra interjected reproachfully, her touch on his chest a gentle reminder that this was neither the time nor place for such discussions.

Seeming to understand her intent, Daemon nodded and leaned in to kiss Daenera’s forehead, offering his silent support. “Eight days.”

Rhaenyra mirrored her husband’s affection with a kiss on Daenera’s cheek, caressing her face. Then, with a final glance, the couple walked down the pier towards the waiting ship.

As the ship prepared to depart, the sound of mooring lines being released resonated through the air, mingling with the rustle of sails billowing in the wind. The vessel, grand and imposing, began its journey across the water of Blackwater Bay.

Daenera remained at the pier’s edge, her eyes unwaveringly locked on the silhouettes of her family standing at the ship’s stern. Her younger brother’s waved eagerly to her, Joffrey on Jace’s shoulders and Aegon in Luke’s arms. Daenera waved back at them, watching with a knot in the back of her throat as the vessel glided further from the dock, the tall figures becoming smaller and smaller–yet their waves of farewell were still discernible. Lifting her hand higher, Daenera responded with a wave of her own, a silent exchange of love and parting.

Breaking her from the reverie, Joyce approached, her tone indicating she had success with her task. “I was able to acquire what we needed.”

Turning her attention to Joyce, Daenera peered into the basket she carried. Inside lay an assortment of dried herbs–tansy, mint, wormwood, and pennyroyal, each with its specific purpose.

Daenera’s nod was one of quiet appreciation and understanding. They would prepare the moontea come morning.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x oc #hotd fanfic #a vow of blood

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lokisprettygirl · 1 year ago

Text

Brokenhearted (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Modern AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 7 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 8

Summary: A certain Ghost of the past catches up with Daemon but it might turn into a blessing for him.

Warning: 18+, Smut, sex, filthy smut, degradation, dom sub relationship in bed, reader gets tied, Discussion of mensuration and Pregnancy, arguments and angst, flashbacks of abusive relationship, sexual abuse, Samantha, traumatic distressing content, Daemon is a big time smoker so if it’s something triggering don’t read it, he’s not the best boyfriend, alcohol drinking, mention of past trauma and therapy, cigarette smoking, possessive behaviour, some violence, baby needs therapy, baby is trying

"Hello, my sweet boy"

Samantha smiled as she looked him up and down as if he was a prey, you turned to look at him and he already seemed shaken just by her presence, he didn't answer her so she continued to stare at him. She then got up to step closer to him but you got in the way and glared at her.

"Move out of my way " she said to you so you crossed your arms and moved one step closer to her.

"Get out of my restaurant right now" your voice was low and menacing, filled with contempt for the vile woman in front of you. She was taken aback by your boldness for a moment before she spoke again.

"And who do you think you are?" She cackled like a witch and it took everything for you to not jab the very fork she was eating from right into her stomach,

"Someone you're going to wish you had never met" you stood your ground, there's no way you'd allow her to get close to Daemon at any cost. The disdainful smirk faded from her face and she got visibly upset all of a sudden,

"Look you bitch–"

"Claire call 911, a customer is causing a nuisance again" you raised your voice to cut her mid sentence and she seemed livid now. She raised her hand so you grabbed her arm and twisted it, a yelp of pain escaped her throat and you let her struggle against you for a moment before you allowed her arm to be free again.

"Go on..get the heck out of here now" you puckered your lips to make a mocking kiss sound as if you were talking to an animal which to be fair, that's exactly what she was. The gesture infuriated her further and she stomped on her leg before she tried to walk past you.

You followed her movements and kept yourself between her and Daemon so at no point she'd come in contact with him. Once she was out of the restaurant you kept your eyes on her through the window and you watched her cross the road and disappear out of the sight.

"What was that about?" Claire asked you, she seemed a bit uncomfortable as well.

"Just don't let her enter again, she's absolutely crazy" Claire nodded as you said that.

You didn't want to make a further scene so you walked towards Daemon to make him sit down on one of the secluded booths and poured a glass of water for him. He immediately put his hands on the table and hid his face in between his palms to calm down his nerves but it was in vain.

You didn't know what to say so you squeezed his shoulder in a comforting manner before you caressed his back gently,

"I'll get my stuff and we can leave then okay?" You told him softly and he didn't say anything but as you turned around to go back to the staff area he grabbed your hand in a desperate attempt to seek comfort. Truth to be told he was scared of all those thoughts that were running through his head.

"Don't leave me alone" he placed his head down on your torso as his arms wrapped around your waist, you immediately leaned down to kiss the top of his head, offering him the much needed comfort he needed.

From the distance Samantha was watching the scene and she realized that the information she had received wasn't wrong, he was really moving on and allowing some other woman to love him again, it wasn't just physical anymore, he was getting attached to her and she couldn't tolerate that. He can't forget her.

After a minute or so you pulled him away slightly so he looked up at you,

"I'll just get my bag okay, you want me to fix you a sandwich before we go home?" You asked him so he sighed and nodded so you pecked his lips and went back to the kitchen area.

The way you had stood up for him had warmed his heart, if Samantha was there she'd have called him a weak, fragile man for taking comfort in the arms of a woman who was supposedly physically weaker than him but he didn't want to hear her voice in his head any longer.

Well that was a wishful thinking that he had. He never thought he'd ever see her again, Viserys had promised him that she was taken care of and that she'd never bother him again then why was she there now?

As the other chef arrived you both left for Daemon's apartment. You wanted him to be at a place where he felt the most comfortable, you didn't allow him to drive either because he seemed lost in his head.

You didn't understand why she was there after all these years? What did she want? Was it because Daemon was moving on? But how did she know that? Was she always keeping an eye on him? Several questions were weighing heavily on your mind.

You both were on the couch after eating and showering, you didn't have spare clothes so you had put on one of his shirts.

He was just quietly smoking, not saying anything, you didn't want to disturb him either but you felt really worried about him.

After minutes of quiet you got off the couch and sat down on your knees in front of him so he had his eyes on you, you took the cigarette away from him and gave it a drag before you passed it back to him,

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked and he ran his fingers through his hair before he sighed deeply.

"Nothing to talk about" he mumbled under his breath so you scooted closer to him and caressed his thighs with your hands in a comforting manner.

"What do you want to do then, what can I do?" You questioned him, you really wanted to ease his fears, he put out the cigarette in the ashtray and tapped on his thigh in a way to gesture you to sit on his lap so that's exactly what you did..

His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer and grabbed your chin to make you look at him,

"I care about you, you know that right? Do you feel it?" He asked you and you brought your hands up to caress his cheeks but he pulled his head away from you "Hands to yourself angel" he mumbled sternly and you figured he was in a mood of sorts where he wanted to dominate you, he had a public moment of weakness in the restaurant and perhaps her presence had triggered something in him.

"I feel it..i really do" you whispered, keeping your voice low and timid on purpose, he grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you before he clutched your hair in his fist to pull your head back.

His other hand trailed up your thigh and he smacked your ass harshly which in turn made you gasp and moan at the same time.

"I want to fuck you senselessly, and I want you take it like the sweet little whore that you are, I don't want to hear you until I permit you to speak, can you do that for me?" He spoke with authority, his voice was deep and raspy.

"Yess I'll do anything for you"

"Good girl, remember the safe word?"

"Yes sir" he smiled as you addressed him like that.

"You trust me? You want this?"

"Mmmm i trust you and I want you pleasee" he kissed you once more and tapped on your cheek lightly as he spoke again.

"Wait for me on the bed, I'll be there in a minute.. take your clothes off"

You nodded and got off his lap to make way to his bedroom, maybe he needed to release some frustration, you weren't going to question his methods. You knew he wouldn't hurt you or well hurt you without your permission.

He smoked one more cigarette before he finally stepped in the room and reached for a tie in his closet before he walked towards you, your eyes were on him, anticipating his each and every move, he leaned over you and caressed your neck with end of the fabric before he trailed it down from your sternum, you sucked a breath as it kept going lower and lower. As it reached between your legs, you could feel your clit twitching because of how aroused you felt.

His eyes locked on yours as he got on top of you, his stare was intense and so were his expressions.

"Bring your hands together" he said firmly so you raised them up and he immediately tied your wrists together, you gasped as he tightened the knot.

"On your front" you turned around with your hands still tied together. He slapped your cheek one by one making your eyes roll back in your head. Spreading your legs apart he pressed his middle finger inside you and all the way to his knuckles, he tucked your hair to the side before he placed his other arm right next to your head and leaned into you, pulling his finger out he shoved it in again but this time you felt three of his digits in there.

"God .. Daemon" you whimpered as you felt your walls stretching out.

"Shhhh kitten, no speaking..just take it quietly, you're my whore are you not?" He whispered in your ear and you bit on your lips at the whispery sultry sound of his voice,

"Mmm yess sir I am your whore, all yours" his fingers scissored and curled inside you, he quickly found your sweet spot and rubbed it over and over again until you were shivering with the building pleasure, he pleased you in a way you have never been pleased before, you were about to cum when he pulled out of you and turned your head to the side to watch your brows furrowing as the feeling of pleasure subsided slowly.

Your cunt felt sensitive, you just needed one touch, one stroke, one stimulation and you'd be pushed over the edge but he didn't want you to cum just yet. This wasn't about you. He had made it pretty clear. That didn't stop you from whining though-

"Mmmm baby please..touch me"

"I told you not to speak, didn't i?" You whimpered as he gripped your hair and pulled your neck up, his lips latched onto your soft skin and he sucked harshly,

"Mmmm sorry I'm sorry"

"Fucking listen to me kitten, I won't hesitate to leave you all night here, dripping and helpless with your hands tied up" he mumbled in your ear so you nodded instead of speaking this time.

You have never been treated this way before, not even by him, he had been rough with his words and actions alike but this was something next level. He had never denied your orgasm like this before.

He sat up on his knees and rubbed his fingers over your seeping cunt to collect your wetness and then you heard the sound of him stroking his cock, you desperately wanted to turn your head and watch him pleasure himself but resisted the urge to not anger him.

"She never allowed me to treat her like this, not once, but youuu…you're such a good girl for me, willing to be whatever i want you to be" his voice had a tinge of hoarseness to it, his breaths were becoming heavy. He then let out a deep grunt as he pushed his cock inside you slowly, his arms rested on either side of your body.

"Allowing me to use your body for my pleasure, you'd do anything for me won't you?" He asked you condescendingly, even though you couldn't really see him you just knew there was a devilish smirk on his face.

"Mmm yesss sir.. anything" he flipped you on your back and his pretty face came into your view.

He placed his hand on your cheek and used his thumb to open your mouth, you immediately sucked on his thumb and the sight aroused him even further if that was possible.

"And that makes you a dirty little whore.. made just to please men like me in bed" his degrading words made you want to hump against him but again you resisted the urge.

He quickened his pace and leaned over you as he fucked you, no words came out of your mouth except for those whiny whimpers, this was no love making, far from it, but you were not complaining.

Your clit was already sensitive so when he held those nubs between his fingers and pinched it gently you lost all control, your walls clenched around him, halting his movement at once, milking all his cum out, it seemed as if he was surprised too as how quickly he had cum just because you came around him. He threw his head back and rode his high with you, both of you needed time to recover from that mind numbing orgasm.

After sex he was always predictable, he'd clean himself up, kiss you sweetly as if to show his appreciation and then he'd grab his cigarette but he seemed a bit different today.

He was lost in his head again.

He picked you up in his arms as if you weighed nothing and took you to the bathroom where you both showered again and then you were back in his shirt.

"Do you feel okay?" You asked him as you watched him put a trouser on. He checked his phone and sighed deeply.

"Yeah..i have to go, this bloke missed his training this morning and wants to do it now" he mumbled innan agitated tone so you hummed.

"Can I come?" You asked him nervously. He averted his gaze at the question.

"I'll drop you home..it won't be wise to take you there.. I'll get distracted" your heart sank as he said that. Was he thinking about her? Did seeing her bring back those memories of the time he used to be with her? When he used to be hers?

You didn't say anything but got dressed instead and he drove you to your apartment.

When you finally arrived he was staring ahead of him so you placed your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

"I'm worried about you" you whispered softly and he gulped, he didn't want to hurt you, that was the last thing he wanted to do right now but he really needed to be alone before he snaps at you again for no reason, however he knew his distant behavior was equally hurtful.

"I'm alright, I'm not a child y/n, just go home and rest, think about yourself for once" he spoke firmly and your eyes teared up, maybe he needed space but you couldn't help but feel hurt by his sudden distant behavior.

He leaned into you and at first you thought he was going to hug you but he merely opened the door so you could get out. You didn't say anything after that and stepped out, he immediately drove off once you did.

On the way to the centre he called Viserys, he really needed a few answers.

"Why is she here? You said she was taken care of.. and that ..that I'd never have to see her again soo whyy the fuck is she here" he raised his voice, he was frustrated and rightfully so. But as usual he was taking his anger out on people who meant no harm to him.

"Calm down Daemon, where are you?" Viserys asked him calmly, he didn't want his brother to be so angry especially while he was driving.

"Have to train Chris, meet me there" Daemon hung up after that.

Hello sweet boy

Her voice was still ringing in his head, the sweet voice that he had fallen for, the voice that held the power to reduce him to mere dirt under her boots.

Viserys told him that he had no clue of her whereabouts so it wasn't something he knew of, he was shocked himself that she had come back.

"Brother listen to me, it's been years..don't let her get to you again…she's not worth it"

He tried to convince Daemon to not worry about it and let it go, as it would only bring him pain. However a part of him did fear that she had returned to harm him again.

"You have got a nice thing going on for you, focus on that" Daemon sighed as Viserys reminded him about you, he had done it again, he had shown you how big of an arse he can be at times.

Late at night when he went back home he sat down on his bed to call you but before he could hit your number he heard the buzzer ringing so he made way to the living room and walked towards the intercom. His jaw clenched as he realized who it was. How did she find out where he lived? He gulped as he pressed the button on the intercom to speak to her,

"Samantha, go away or I'm calling the cops" he saw her snickering as he said that.

"I'm just here to talk baby, it's been years and i know you have missed me as much as I have missed you, I still miss you my sweet boy, in every way" his eyes teared up as she whispered softly but he knew better now, he knew better than to get involved in her mess again.

He turned the intercom off and stepped away from his door to go back to his room.

She kept pressing the buzzer but he ignored it. He won't be her plaything anymore, he won't let her mess with his head again.

To avoid hearing the buzzer he placed his headphones on and closed his eyes, and that's when he saw your face, your sweet Beautiful face, sometimes he wished he had never met Samantha, that maybe he had met someone like you instead, or maybe just you, why fate didn't bring you to him sooner? He would have had it all if only he had met you sooner.

He wanted to give you the world, he really did but his issues were skindeep, his heart was not in the right place in this relationship unlike yours, you were so pure, so supportive and you just wanted him to heal but it wasn't easy for him, he pushed you away and then pulled you in as he pleased and like the angel that you were you took him in your protection and gave him everything that he didn't deserve.

He wanted to acknowledge that he wasn't treating you fairly, he was afraid someday he'd turn into Samantha and hurt you the way she had hurt him, he was afraid he'd ruin you slowly the way she had ruined him.

Hurt people hurt people, he had read that somewhere and now he understood what it actually meant .

Daemon knew losing you now when he had gotten himself so accustomed to your warmth would only damage him more than he already was, he didn't want to lose you, he needed you, he really did and he knew he had to fix his behavior if he wanted to treat you better.

He grabbed his phone and finally dialed your number, it took a few rings before you picked it up,

"Hey" you mumbled and he took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry" his eyes were filled with tears as he spoke and as you heard his broken little voice your eyes welled up as well, you feared he was going to do something awful, you didn't know why you had a feeling that he'd leave you and this relationship, you feared that it was becoming too much for him and for once you wanted to be proven wrong.

"Daemon? Where are you baby?" You asked him softly.

"Bed" he mumbled as he sniffled and wiped his tears.

"Okayyy..you're safe?"

"Mmmhmm"

You breathed a sigh of relief as he said that.

"Alright. Listen to me Daemon, you have to talk to me, you can't push me away like that everytime you're in your head, that hurts me, alot. I'll give you your space whenever you need it but I don't want you to be completely alone when you're feeling that way, just let me be around at least" your voice was tender as you spoke. You weren't upset with him but you needed him to know that it really bothered you whenever he closed himself off like that.

"I know I do and I wanted to talk to you, I really did but then I just wanted to run again. I wasn't like this darling.. I used to be a different man and that was the man that a girl like you deserved, but I'm not that man anymore, she made a mockery of all the virtues that I held so dearly once, my dreams, my ability to show love.. she destroyed everything" there was a hint of anger in his voice but it wasn't directed at you, you knew he was trying at the best of his ability.

"I know it's not easy baby..it will take time, years perhaps, all I'm asking is for you to take my hand whenever you are feeling scared..that's it okay? That's all I want you to do, you're not alone and i won't let her hurt you anymore" you didn't want to be his weakness in this relationship nor you wanted him to feel weak, you just wanted to be his strength.

"Alright love..I'm sorry..will you see me tomorrow? I'll make it up to you i promise" you smiled as he said that.

"I will, just try and sleep now okay..I'll see you tomorrow"

It was late at night and it has been a long day so you just wanted him to rest, he was probably thinking about everything at once. You really wished you were there at the moment but if he needed his space you didn't want to get overbearing.

You laid down on your bed with your phone in your hand, scrolling through the pictures you have taken with him in the past few months, you noticed how his eyes always seemed so sad even when he was smiling and it broke your heart.

And now you feared that her arrival would ruin whatever progress he had made with you.

You were about to put your phone down and sleep but you heard the buzzer going off and leaped out of your bed, it was Daemon.

You weren't expecting to see him tonight but you couldn't have been happier that he came. As soon as he entered from the door he grabbed a hold of your cheeks between his hands, kissed your forehead and then he tilted his head to kiss you passionately, no words were said, he only pulled away for a second to breathe before he kissed you again and then again, it was thirsty and needy as if he was starving for it. When he finally pulled away there was a small smile on his face,

"I love you" he mumbled softly and your eyes widened in a mixture of shock and surprise. You were expecting the worst from tonight and It felt good to be proven wrong. His fingers brushed through your hair and then he kissed the tip of your nose. Did he really say that or your ears were ringing?

"I love you" he mumbled again making your heart blossom "Yeah i do" he didn't give you a chance to respond as he kissed you again. Soft feathery kisses, his lips barely brushed over yours, he had never kissed you this way before, so romantically and with such ardent need.

You grabbed the collar of his leather jacket and pressed your body against him as intimately as you could.

"I love you too, so muchhh" you whispered between the kisses and that made him smile. He didn't need the confession, he could tell how deeply you felt for him but his cold dead heart felt warm at those words. You took his jacket off, shirt followed and then you hooked your fingers around the loop of his belt to drag him to your room.

You didn't want to overstep so you laid on your side but you felt his hand on the back of your neck as he pulled you closer to him slowly, you took in the scent of his skin as you nuzzled your face between his neck, your arm draped around his waist, he caressed your head gently and closed his eyes to as he breathed in the sweet scent of your hair.

"Darling?" He called out for you so you hummed in response "You said you believed in me" you put your head up as he said that and kissed his forehead.

"I do ..i believe in you" his eyes teared up at the gesture and your words but then a small smile formed on his lips

"I want to give it a try, I want to fight again" your heart skipped a beat as he said that.

Maybe her arrival was the reason he had this epiphany, perhaps he needed to see her to realize that she no longer had a hold on him, maybe seeing her again was the push he needed to get the clarity that he was in control of his life, maybe that was the catalyst he needed to take that final step towards his healing journey.

You didn't know why she had returned after all these years, you still didn't know why he had given up on his dreams that night but as he slept holding you so close to him you felt a sense of strong protectiveness overcome you.

He wasn't weak, not at all, but he needed a gentle loving support in his life and you wanted to be that person to give him that, you wanted to be his person.

Whatever happens now you'd be there with him, for him, he wasn't alone anymore and you were determined that won't allow her to ruin his life any more.

❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

Taglist (please check your setting if I’m not able to tag you)

@simbaaas-stuff @ajthefujoshi @witchybitch2 @hypocritic-trash-baby @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @thefallenangel21n @kmc1989

#daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen x reader angst #daemon targaryen x reader fluff #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader smut #non canon #modern au

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daenysthedreamer101 · 8 months ago

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HOTD S1 Rewatch

Ep1 - Heirs of the Dragon

I looove the opening scene of Nyra on Syrax, and the following sequence. It's majestic and I adore the score in the back. (It's called 'Rhaenyra's welcome' and it sounds so happy, pure and innocent I can't 😭)

Corlys was done with everyone's bs in that Small Council meeting lol

The first time we see Alicent I thought to myself omg she's so cute. Look at her in her pretty blue dress. And then it struck me - her and Nyra will be the bitterest of enemies by ep6 💀💀

Aemma did not deserve any of what happened to her. We only saw her for a little while, but I know she was a good Queen, a kind Queen and she deserved a better husband than Viserys.

Otto you are such a snake, I can't wait for you to die omg...

He was really out here pimping his 15 year old daughter to the grieving King the night of his wife's funeral...

Alicent you deserve a better dad, you really do.

At the end of the tourney scene, when it's revealed that Aemma died, Corlys whispers to Rhaenys and I noticed she was looking at Nyra, I just thought it was interesting

Daemon is such a menace i love him. I love the scene of him and Otto bantering during the Small Council meeting,it's soo fun!

#asoiaf #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd season 1 #young alicent #young rhaenyra #queen aemma #you deserved better #prince daemon targaryen #corlys velaryon #princess rhaenys targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #anti otto hightower

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dreamfyre03 · 8 months ago

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A Dragon's Love

Warnings: Grief, mentions of death

Chapter 16: Grief and Dreams

Daenys sat in her room reading another book Jace had brought her, this time, a novel about a princess who fell in love with a dashing prince, but was stolen away by the evil sorcerer. It was quite engrossing, and she almost didn’t hear when the door opened, and Rhaenyra entered. “Sister.” She greeted her, surprised. “Daenys.” She stood across from her.

“Have you come to kill me?” She asked her. “Despite my earlier outbursts, for now, your life is safe. You are better off to any of us alive than dead, and I’m no kinslayer.” Her sister replied. “Then why are you here?” “To give you a chance. The first strike has been landed against the greens, justice for their crimes. You can escape their fate, if you swear allegiance to me as your Queen.” Daenys felt fear creeping up her spine at her sister’s eerily calm voice.

“Rhaenyra… what have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything. Daemon, however, has many friends, people in all places, in King’s Landing.You might be especially interested to know her a butcher they call Blood, and a rat-catcher they call Cheese.” She revealed. Daenys imagined the worse praying that her siblings were alive… Aemond…

“My son’s death has been avenged, sister. A life for a life. A son for a son.” She said in a menacing fashion.

She felt a ringing in her ears, and her heart hammering in her chest. The realisation hit her so hard it physically sucked all the strength out of her body that kept her standing. Daenys fell to her knees, as a sob overtook her. Aemond had no sons. Which could only mean…

No.

Not sweet Jaehaerys. Not the little boy she held when he came out of her sister’s womb, smiling and giggling happily. Not Helaena’s pride and joy, and Aegon’s little miniature.

Daenys felt the last thread of hope in her snap, letting out a guttural cry as she mourned the loss of the nephew she loved as her own son. “He was a child, Rhaenyra! An innocent child!” She screamed, not even feeling the stone floors bruising her knees. “So was my son!” Her sister shouted back at her. “But this is war, and war is not fair sister. You have a choice. You can choose your rightful Queen, or you can leave see what awaits you if you lay your life down for the Usurper King.” She said, shutting the door behind her as she felt.

Leaving Daenys there, wailing and crying on the floor, nothing but a ball of grief on the ground, truly and utterly broken.

She laid there on the floor for hours, not even registering the soft opening and closing of the door, and Jace’s voice that softly called out her name. She felt numb, lifeless. She knew Rhaenyra would want some form of debt for Lucerys’s death, but never did she think her sister was capable of masterminding the death of an innocent boy. The war was raging for probably a month, but to Daenys it felt like an eternity. Perhaps it was her grief, or her captivity talking. She felt like the days before her father died were nothing but distant memories. Dragonriding with Helaena, drinking and laughing with Aegon, poor Daeron, she wished she had more time with him, and Aemond, her beloved Aemond. It wasn’t until she felt her body being raised up and she saw Jace’s face did she register his presence. “Please talk to me, can you hear me?” He asked nervously, and she felt a cool hand touch her cheek.

“He was just a child, Jace. Barely a boy, still so much like a babe. He still slept with his sister. When he was a babe, when he first said my name, he called me ‘Dany’. Just like Aegon did when we were children.” She didn’t know why she was rambling on like this, but surprisingly, Jace just sat next to her on the ground and listened. “Alicent was overjoyed Aegon had an heir. But Helaena, my sweet sister, she was just happy to have a child. She was so young when she had him, but I saw in the childbed, the moment she held him, there was nothing but love in her eyes.” Jace took her hand in his reassuringly, and in her grief she didn’t give the gesture a passing thought.

“Aegon was terrified to hold him, and Jaehaera. But when I finally convinced him to, it was as if all the pain in his heart simply melted away, and he felt genuine, true happiness in those moments. And now, that sweet child, a ray of light in his parents’ lives, is gone. Gods know I would have traded my life for his in a heartbeat.”

“Don’t say that.” Jace spoke softly. She turned to look at him. “I would. I wish Rhaenyra had chosen to take my life to settle the debt, than his. I would have laid my life down smiling. I have spent my life trying to love my family, protect them, with what little power a woman has, and I could not help him. I left to go North to give them all a better chance of staying alive, and it has all been for nought.”

Jace simply kept holding her hand, and Daenys had to ask. “Did you know?” “No. I had no idea until we received a raven from King’s Landing, announcing the death of Prince Jaehaerys, and proclaiming Prince Maelor as Aegon’s heir.”

“I suppose you are glad, your brother’s death is avenged.”

He sighed. “Killing a child is not justice. Only killing the man responsible is.”

Her mind instantly went to Aemond, Daenys had no doubt he was blaming himself entirely. She needed to feel his arms around her, she needed to cry and grieve in the arms of someone who loved those children as much as she did.

“Please, eat, and get some rest. I’ll come back to see you in the morning.” He said, getting up, and helping her to her feet. She rose and went and sat at the table, where a plate of food was, she didn’t even recall hearing or seeing a servant come in.

Before he shut the door, he turned around and called her. “Daenys?” She looked at him.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You mother would be livid if she knew you were in my rooms at such an ungodly hour.” “Ah yes, but she won’t know, will she, sweet sister?” Aemond grinned as he watched her sitting up on the floor in front of the fire in her room, letting the heat warm her skin as they shared a bottle of Dornish wine Aegon left in her rooms earlier that day. Her skin was flushed from the heat and the wine. Her hair was slightly tousled from being roused from sleep, but she didn’t mind. He had a nightmare, and couldn’t return to sleep, so he sought her out instead, needing her presence to clear his mind. The firelight on her skin made her appear like a goddess radiating the beauty of Old Valyria, and when she drank again, and passed the bottle back to him, his eye couldn’t leave her frame as he watched her slip her sage coloured robe from her shoulders, exposing her pure alabaster skin to him, her shoulders bare but for the straps of her nightgown. Her wine stained lips curved into a kind, empathetic smile. “Do you feel better, brother?” She asked him softly, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair.

“Mmm” was his only response, as his eye closed, relaxing into her touch. She giggled, the wine’s effects beginning to show. “Aegon will be jealous when he learns I’ve taken his drinking partner.” Aemond said. She laughed. “I suppose you’ll have to learn to share me.” “I don’t think I could ever share you with anyone.” The wine loosened his tongue, and he realised his words, worrying that they would perturb her, but she simply gave him an affectionate smile, and shifted over to lie into his chest, and he tried not to look down her nightdress, but couldn’t resist the urge, and glanced downward to see the curve of her breast. “Well, you’ll have to learn. I received a letter from Daeron this morning.” “Mmm” “He’s excited to return for my name day. I told him he should come for yours instead, it’s only a few moons after, but he aches to return home.” “I would imagine so.” He couldn’t resist the urge and took advantage of their wine induced states, and pulled her closer to him, keeping his arm on her waist. She was so warm, and soft, and-

Aemond woke with a start in his bed, his sheets soaked with sweat, and Daenys’s name on his lips. Even in sleep, she haunted him. But he felt it was a blessing that she haunted his dreams, at least that way, the gods let him see her face.

#aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond fic #aegon ii targaryen

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adventure-showdown · 1 year ago

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What is the greatest Doctor Who story ever told?

Everything has been split into groups of 32 that I think are of similar levels of notoritiy, but likely not popularity. Seeding within the groups decides the matches. At the end of the round groups are paired up and mashed together to do it all again.

What that means right now is the order the matches below are listed in has no baring on what they'll be against in the next round

There will be 16 matches a day with Fridays off

Lastly, you can still submit propaganda for posts here

ROUND 1

ROUND 2

Day 16

The Metaphysical Engine or What Quill Did vs Alien Avatar

The Last Oak Tree vs Dead Man Walking

Black Hunger vs Dream-Eaters

From Out of the Rain vs Detained

A Day in the Death vs Nightvisiting

Fragments vs Taphony of the Time Loop

Lost Library of Ukko vs The Custodians

Sirens of Ceres vs Children of Earth

K9 and Company vs Regeneration/Liberation/The Korven

Mutant Copper vs Reset

For Tonight We Might Die vs The Lost

Miracle Day vs The Cambridge Spy

Mind Snap/Angel of the North/Last Precinct/Hound of the Korven/Eclipse of the Korven vs Fear Itself

Exit Wounds vs Something Borrowed

Co-Owner of a Lonely Heart/Brave-ish Heart vs Oroborus

The Fall of the House of Gryffen vs The Curse of Anubis

previous and future days under the cut - unfortunately i've had to get rid of the links because there were too many and the post broke, however they are all tagged #round 2

Day 1

The Mind Robber vs Galaxy 4

The Moonbase vs The Daleks' Master Plan

The Evil of the Daleks vs The Space Museum

The Gunfighters vs The Macra Terror

The Dalek Invasion of Earth vs The Celestial Toymaker

The Reign of Terror vs The Daleks

The Rescue vs The Ice Warriors TIE

The Ark vs the Romans

The Tenth Planet vs The Web Planet

An Unearthly Child vs The War Machines

The Invsion vs The Keys of Marinus

The Underwater Menace vs The Aztecs

The Edge of Destruction vs The Massacre

The Sensorites vs The Seeds of Death

The Chase vs Marco Polo

Planet of Giants vs The Time Meddler

Day 2

The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances vs Love and Monsters

Human Nature/The Family of Blood vs The End of the World

The Waters of Mars vs The End of Time

The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit vs Fires of Pompeii

Blink vs The Unquiet Dead

Boom Town vs Utopia

Army of Ghosts/Doomsday vs Father's Day

Daleks in Manhattan/Evolution of the Daleks vs Bad Wolf/The Parting of the Ways

Dalek vs New Earth

Rose vs Planet of the Ood

The Runaway Bride vs The Sontaran Stratagem/The Poison Sky

The Girl in the Fireplace vs Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead

Partners in Crime vs The Christmas Invasion

School Reunion vs The Stolen Earth/Journey's End

The Unicorn and the Wasp vs The Sound of Drums/Last of Time Lords

Tooth and Claw vs Midnight

Day 3

A Death in the Family vs The Eleven

Ship in a Bottle vs Blood of the Daleks

Albie's Angels vs Phobos

No More Lies vs UNIT Dating

Horror of Glam Rock vs Companion Piece

The Grey Man in the Mountain vs The Love Vampires

Human Resources vs The Widow's Assassin

The Company of Friends: Izzy's Story vs The Side of the Angels

Day of the Master vs The Crucible of Souls

1963: The Assassination Games vs The Red Lady

Stranded vs The Sonomancer TIE

The Doomsday Chronometer vs The Silver Turk

Absent Friends vs The Eighth Piece

Paradox of the Daleks vs Better Watch Out/Fairytale in Salzburg

Inside Every Warrior vs Robophobia

Stop the Clock vs To the Death

Day 4

The War Games vs The Abominable Snowmen

The Sea Devils vs The Time Warrior

The Time Monster vs Fury from the Deep

The Tomb of the Cybermen vs Terror of the Autons

The Three Doctors vs The Ambassadors of Death

The Highlanders vs The Power of the Daleks

Doctor Who and the Silurians vs Carnival of Monsters

The Faceless Ones vs The Daemons

The Enemy of the World vs The Monster of Peladon

The Mind of Evil vs Frontier in Space TIE

The Claws of Axos vs Inferno

Spearhead from Space vs The Ark in Space TIE

The Horns of Nimon vs The Seeds of Doom

Planet of the Spiders vs The Web of Fear

Colony in Space vs The Green Death

Invasion of the Dinosaurs vs The Curse of Peladon

Day 5

Vincent and the Doctor vs Closing Time

The Snowmen vs The Beast Below

The Doctor's Daughter vs The Rings of Akhaten

Vampires of Venice vs The Doctor's Wife

Gridlock vs A Town Called Mercy

The Wedding of River Song vs Amy's Choice

The Girl Who Waited vs Time of the Doctor

Hide vs Smith and Jones

The Eleventh Hour vs Curse of the Black Spot

A Christmas Carol vs The Time of Angels/Flesh and Stone

A Good Man Goes to War vs Name of the Doctor

Dinosaurs on a Spaceship vs The God Complex

Day of the Doctor vs Asylum of the Daleks

The Hungry Earth/Cold Blood vs The Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon

Rise of the Cybermen/The Age of Steel vs 42

Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS vs Turn Left

Day 6

The Lumiat vs A Spoonful of Masters

Nightshade vs Rhys and Ianto's Excellent Barbecue

Solitaire vs Paradise 5

Serenity vs The Last Post

No Place vs The Hollow King

Warfare vs Square One

The Cars that Ate London! vs Out of Time

Iterations of I vs A Full Life

I am the Master vs Forever Fallen

The Creeping Death vs Expiry Dating

Peshka vs The Forgotten Village

First Days of Phaidon vs The Scorchies

Gallifrey IV vs The Queen of Time

Wink vs Death and the Queen

Too Many Masters vs Peri and the Piscon Paradox

The Concrete Cage vs The Fifth Citadel

Day 7

City of Death vs The Creature From the Pit

The Key to Time vs The Ribos Operation

The Keeper of Traken vs The Masque of Mandragora

Image of the Fendahl vs The Brain of Morbius

The Horror of Fang Rock vs The Armageddon Factor

Terror of the Zygons vs Mawdryn Undead

The Sunmakers vs The Androids of Tara

The Sontaran Experiment vs The Pirate Planet

Genesis of the Daleks vs Destiny of the Daleks

Warriors' Gate vs The Invasion of Time

The Stones of Blood vs The Hand of Fear

The Leisure Hive vs State of Decay

Logopolis vs Robot

Full Circle vs The Face of Evil

The Deadly Assassin vs Pyramids of Mars

Meglos vs The Robots of Death

Day 8

Heaven Sent vs Cold War

Under the Lake/Before the Flood vs The Zygon Invasion/The Zygon Inversion

Flatline vs The Return of Doctor Mysterio

The Angels Take Manhattan vs Dark Water/Death in Heaven

The Magician's Apprentice/The Witch's Familiar vs Empress of Mars

Smile vs Extremis

Hell Bent vs Knock Knock

The Rebel Flesh/The Almost People vs The Husbands of River Song

Mummy on the Orient Express vs The Power of Three

Twice Upon a Time vs Listen

Face the Raven vs The Eaters of Light

Robot of Sherwood vs The Pilot

The Pandorica Opens/The Big Bang vs The Girl Who Died

The Pyramid at the End of the World vs Oxygen

Time Heist vs Deep Breath

The Lodger vs World Enough and Time/The Doctor Falls

Day 9

The Bekdel Test vs The Blood Cell

Human Nature vs Doctor Who and Shada (fan novelisation)

The Book of the War vs The City of the Dead

The Adventuress of Henrietta Street vs The Stranger

Mad Dogs and Englishmen vs The Crooked World

Anachrophobia vs Alien Bodies

Harvest of Time vs Interference

The Blue Angel vs Vampire Science

Lungbarrow vs The Turing Test

Oh No It Isn't vs The Eleven Day Empire/The Shadow Play

Living Legend vs The Gallifrey Chronicles

Engines of War vs The Year of Intelligent Tigers

Scratchman vs The Scarlet Empress

Psychodrome vs Camera Obscura

This Town Will Never Let Us Go vs Unnatural History

The Martian Invasion of Planetoid 50 vs A Photograph to Remember

Day 10

The Caves of Androzani vs Warriors of the Deep

Revelation of the Daleks vs Paradise Towers

Snakedance vs The Mysterious Planet

The Visitation vs Ghost Light

Survival vs The King's Demons

Black Orchid vs Battlefield

Planet of Fire vs Frontios

Attack of the Cybermen vs Enlightenment

The Curse of Fenric vs Mindwarp

Terror of the Vervoids vs The Mark of the Rani

Kinda vs Trial of a Time Lord

The Two Doctors vs Earthshock

The Five Doctors vs The Ultimate Foe

Terminus vs Vengeance on Varos

Castrovalva vs Ressurection of the Daleks

Delta and the Bannermen vs Remembrance of the Daleks

Day 11

Whatever Happened to Sarah-Jane? vs Kerblam!

Flux vs The Caretaker

Eve of the Daleks vs Revolution of the Daleks

Praxeus vs Last Christmas

Village of the Angels vs Revenge of the Slitheen

The Ghost Monument vs War of the Sontarans

Nikola Tesla's Night of Terror vs Resolution

The Tsuranga Conundrum vs The Haunting of Villa Diodati

Demons of the Punjab vs Eye of the Gorgon

The Halloween Apocalypse vs Rosa

The Woman Who Fell to Earth vs Once, Upon TIme

Ascension of the Cybermen/The Timeless Children vs Spyfall

The Power of the Doctor vs Can You Hear Me?

Invasion of the Bane vs Fugitive of the Judoon

It Takes You Away vs The Witchfinders

Arachnids in the UK vs Thin Ice

Day 12

Downtime vs Sil and the Devil Seeds of Arodor

Dalek Weetabix advert vs The Fallen

Divided Loyalties vs The Land of Happy Endings

Summoned by Shadows vs Space in Dimension Relative and Time

More than a Messiah vs Step Into the 80s/On Through the 80s

Famine Appeal vs The Devil of Winerborne

Unnatural Selection vs Lepidometry for Beginners

Ground Zero vs Merry Christmas Doctor Who

The Zero Imperative vs When to Die

Fear Itself vs 12 Doctors, 12 Stories

Zygon: When Being You Just Isn't Enough vs The Room With All the Doors

The Terror Game vs Eye of the Beholder

Old Friends vs In Memory Alone

Wall's Sky Ray lollies advert vs Nothing at the End of the Lane

Something Borrowed vs The Flood

The World Shapers vs The Star Beast

Day 13

The Chimes of Midnight vs Minuet in Hell

The Holy Terror vs Spare Parts

The Happiness Patrol vs The Company of Friends: Benny's Story

Dragonfire vs The Company of Friends: Fitz's Story

Doctor Who and the Pirates vs Singularity

The Condemned vs The Greatest Show in the Galaxy

The Girl Who Never Was vs Neverland

Other Lives vs Caerdroia

Scherzo vs The Company of Friends: Mary's Story

Jubilee vs The TV Movie

The Harvest vs Seasons of Fear

Terror Firma vs Storm Warning

Zagreus vs Arrangements of War

Master vs The Natural History of Fear

The Marian Conspiracy vs The Apocalyse Element

Loups-Garoux vs The Kingmaker

Day 14

Death of the Doctor vs The Gift

Lost in Time vs The Mark of the Berserker

Small Worlds vs Secrets of the Stars

Sleeper vs Everything Changes

Countrycide vs To the Last Man

They Keep Killing Suzie vs Out of Time

Cyberwoman vs The Nightmare Man

Combat vs The Temptation of Sarah-Jane Smith

The Wedding of Sarah-Jane Smith vs The Empty Planet

Random Shoes vs Adam

Goodbye, Sarah-Jane Smith vs The Mad Woman in the Attic

Prisoner of the Judoon vs Ghost Machine

The Curse of Clyde Langer vs The Lost Boy

The Last Sontaran vs Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

Sky vs The Day of the Clown

Mona Lisa's Revenge vs Captain Jack Harkness

Day 15

Time Crash vs Tardisodes

Dreamland vs Dr Who and the Daleks

Shada (webcast with 8) vs The Battle of Demons Run: Two Days Later

Ronald Rat Continuity Announcement vs Pond Life

P.S. vs The Shrink

The Daleks' Invasion of Earth 2150AD vs Doctorin' the TARDIS

Farewell, Sarah-Jane vs The Infinite Quest

Shada (1992 version with linking narration) vs An Adventure in Space and Time

Night of the Doctor vs The Doctor's Meditiation

Real Time vs Dimensions in Time

Clara and the TARDIS vs The Great Detective

Rain Gods vs Scream of the Shalka

Doctor in Distress vs Space Time

Night and the Doctor vs The Five(ish) Doctors Reboot

Shada (2017 animated reconstruction) vs Born Again

Search Out Space vs The Curse of Fatal Death

#doctor who #round 2

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allkordelia · 2 years ago

Text

Keep Me in Your Thoughts (12)

A/n: comment and feedback are welcome and highly encouraged. Thank you! Luv ya 😘. Things are about to be getting interesting in the next few chapters 😀

❧

You rubbed your temple as you sat in your usual council meeting listening to the men around you talk, for once the headache you are serving isn't about your new home. But, of a white-haired man who just won't leave you alone or leave in general, the men from your council are now complaining to you about daemon's latest escapade.

"That man is a menace, you must do something about him, my queen. He is disrupting the peace not only in the castle but in the city too." You sigh exasperated, all you wanted was to celebrate the return of your two sons, and you can't do that when daemon's around causing trouble.

"What do you want me to do? You want me to tell him to go home, I tried he won't. You want me to lock him up somewhere, we can't do that then it will look like we are holding the prince, hostage. So, tell me what you think I should do," Banneth chewed on the inside of his cheek looking at her before looking at the other men in the room.

"He listens to you and only you, he wants your attention so I'm just suggesting..." You raised your brow at him waiting for him to speak, you soon grow tired of him stalling before hissing.

"Spit it out." He gives you a look.

"...maybe you could entertain him, maybe if he sees that your no longer ignoring him maybe he starts behaving better, or like you say he gets bored go away." Banneth looks at you with a nervous look, you sigh with a look of annoyance.

You know his right the only reason daemon is here is for your attention. But, you don't want to entertain him and make him think that he can get back into your good graces, you were serious when you told valaena that what you and Daemon had is in the past and will stay there. You don't trust daemon. You feel he is here for another reason, but you have yet to figure out what it is. Your thoughts were interrupted by Janas walking in with his blue cloak flying in behind him, he held his bronze helmet under his arm as he bow his head at you.

"My Queen there is an urgent matter in the throne room," he said making you furrow your brows as you stood up.

"What sort of matter." Janas looks at banneth before glancing at you, you notice his hesitation making you look at banneth.

"I will deal with daemon on my own time, for now just ignore him he will get bored eventually. This meeting is closed." Banneth wore an unsatisfied expression as he and the others gathered up their things and started to leave.

You follow suit with Janas by your side companying you to the throne room, as you walk you think back on daemon. You truly hope daemon is smart enough to take a hint that you are not interested in him anymore, ever since he decided to stay in Magonsæte for the time being it feels like a noose has been tied around your neck and you waiting for the crate under your feet to be kicked from under you. You sigh mentally, you truly wish you had the power to read people's minds, it will save you the heartbreak in the long run.

You make it to the double doors only two guards stood there guarding it, one opens the door for you as you and Janas walk in to find Daemon with a goblet in his hand sitting lazily on your throne with his legs spread apart. You turn your eyes to Janas who glares at Daemon before looking back at Daemon with an exasperated look, you walk further inside catching Daemon's attention as he rolls his eyes from the side to look at you before grinning.

"Issa jorrāelagon, nyke missed ao. Skorkydoso istan aōha meeting?" He said sitting up straight. [My love, I miss you. How was your meeting?]

You stare at him unfazed and stood in the middle of the throne room with your hands clasped in front of you.

"Daemon, we need to talk." You said causing the older man to raise his brow.

"Skoros bē, issa jorrāelagon?" He asked with a tilt of his head. [What about, my love?]

You sigh again as he speaks in valyrian, he has taken to doing that more often. Long ago it was something he love to do when people were around, so it will feel like he was talking to you and only you. In some way, it was a way to show his love for you, and lady rhaelle found it flattering and cute but you now found it irksome.

"First, I need you to get off the throne and come with me." He pulled a face as lean back into the seat moving to rest his free hand on his right leg.

"Nyke emagon nykeā sȳrkta idea, skoro syt ȳdra daor ao jikagon se byka doggie qrīdrughagon, " He glance at Janas when he said 'dog' making you glare at him, "se māzigon sit va issa lap. Raqagon uēpa jēda." His free hand moved up and down his leg as he look at you with a sly grin and you notice him squeeze himself through his pants. [I have a better idea, why don't you send the little doggie away....and come sit on my lap. Like old times.]

You heard Janas behind you as he let out a low growl at the prince's action.

"My queen with your permission I can drag him off your throne by his greasy white hair," he spoke from behind you making the corner of your mouth curve a bit as you see daemon scowl the man, you cleared your throat wiping the unformed smile from your face before shaking your head.

"That will not be needed, ser janas." You exhale and look at daemon thinking about what banneth said before walking closer to him.

Daemon watch alluring as you slowly climb the steps to the throne and stood in front of him, he smiled at you moving to grasp your hand and bringing them forward to kiss your knuckles.

"Issa gevie dāria." His lips ghosted over your knuckles and fingers. [My beautiful queen.]

You glance at him before taking your hand back making hin look at you, you slowly lowered yourself to kneel in front of him making him at look.

"Daemon, if I let you say your piece will you come with me, " You ask gently in valyrian, his purple eyes stared back into your pale lilac ones trying to see any deception.

"Sȳz." He said making you give a grateful small smile as you stood up making him follow suit, "Yn aōha pet līs henujagon, nyke gaomagon daor raqagon jaossa." He says looking at janas as you both descended the throne. [Fine...but your pet must leave, I do not like dogs.]

Janas shot daggers at the targaryen male as he and you came to walk towards him, you shook your head at the two males before looking at janas.

"Ser Janas, I believe it is close to your rounds, you should go and relieve Ser Anrik from his duties." Janas wore a look of disdain as he look at daemon who smirk as he stood close behind you, so close that you could feel his pelvic brush against your backside.

The knight didn't say anything as he bowed his head and left through the double doors, after a moment you and daemon emerge from the throne room. Daemon follow behind you as you lead him across the castle to your studies, you nod and smile at two servants who were coming from your chambers with your dirty sheets in hand. You opened your door and look over at daemon to find him looking at the servant girls as they turn to glance back him with red cheeks and smiles, he turn away to you staring making him give you a raise brow and a small smile. You roll your eyes and headed inside going over to the sofa and standing near it, as you watch daemon come in and look around before closing the door behind him.

"I was expecting to be lead to your bedroom, but if you wish to make love here. I do not object." He purr coming up to but stop when you put your hand up, he stood still looking at you with lust as his eyes rake over your body.

"I said I'll let you say your piece," you move to take a sit on the armchair facing him, "So, speak." You look at him with your leg cross over your left leg with your hands in your lap.

Daemon slowly move to walk over to the fireplace close to you and leaned against it, you two had some space between you as you both stare at each other. You look away from him couldn't take his piercing gaze any longer, why must he make things so difficult, you thought. The silence was working your nerves, he been trying to talk to you for days now but you always shut him down or drop him off with valaena and her brothers, so you could do your duties. But, you know what he is doing, he is making you suffer for all the times you brush him away or ignored him. Once a child, always a child.

"You have no idea how much I missed you," You look over at him to find him staring at you, "All I thought about during the war was you, and I'm not only talking about the bits about the night we spent togther. But, the times we got into trouble together and venture off on dragonrides to get away from our red prison." You shook your head at the memories, you try not to look back on those days since you were so young all you could remember was wanting to go home and be with your mother.

You notice a shadow moving making you look at daemon as he slowly walks to you, he comes to kneel in front of you putting his hands on your knees.

"All I want to do is be with you," He says moving his hand to take your own and rub circles on your palm, you exhale moving your hand to rub your mouth as you glance away focusing on a old painting of a man and woman.

You do not trust his words. You feel you shouldn't trust anything that comes from his mouth, but what does he gain from saying all of this and bringing up old wounds that have barely healed. You are not ready to love someone again, even if you had a long history with that someone. It feels like the gods are playing a trick on you or maybe it is a test to see if your still that same stupid girl you were before.

"Why are you doing this daemon." You asked looking back at him, "You know I am married, and yet you are here pestering me. Why don't you go back home and bury yourself underneath some whores and leave me alone." Daemon moved back as you stood up walking around him.

"I have no home." He said making you stop, "I have no place to go. I will not return to the Vale to that wench and I can not return to Dragonstone, I am not sure my brother is ready to see me after all these years and I am not sure if I want to see him." You turn away from the door and look back at him as he stood.

"I have nowhere else to go." He says, and you take him, you could see the tension in his shoulder and the tiredness of his body, you look at his purple eyes and you can't see the glint he usually have in his eyes but a glimmer.

You have seen daemon in many lights. You have seen him as the Rogue Prince, the man who enjoyed causing chaos, Prince Daemon, the young lad who pretends to care about politics and such to make his brother happy, and then there's Daemon, the boy who enjoys singing in high valyrian and love his family to a fault. That Daemon you could trust because that daemon can't lie or shield his feelings from you, you were fond of that daemon because he shows you his true self and what a man should be more like.

You sniff glancing away before looking back at daemon, "...You can stay here for the time being until you are ready to fave your brother," You started, a shimmer of hope in his eyes made you let out a low sigh knowing you will regret doing this.

"But, you must behave yourself this is not king's landing and I am not your brother. I do not have patience for your antics, I do not wish to hear from my advisors that you have been starting tavern fights, terrorizing my hand, and distracting my guards with gambling." You snap your fingers at him seeing the small smile appear at the mention of his escapade, "I mean it when you are here and around my childern you will be on your best behavior, do you understand." He gave a curt nod.

"Good." You looks down moving your hands to wipe at your gown, you look up at daemon and see a twinkle in his eyes. As he stares back at you, you know that look making you rub your cheek.

"I know you came here looking for a lover, daemon. But, I can not be that for you. I have...to many things going on to focus on your gesture to get me back," Daemon frowns looking away chagrin, "But, I am willing to be your friend, but it stops there and only there." He looks back at you and looks at you for a moment before he nods again making you sigh in relief.

"I promise I'll won't cause anymore trouble for you or your advisors." You sway and nod your head satisfied with his words.

"That's good to hear because tomorrow is the celebration, and many lords and ladies will be coming to see their future heir. And I want you–"

"To be on my best behavior, yes. I know." You narrow your eyes at him.

"That and also you will be looking after baelor for the time being," Daemon's face scrunched up in confusion.

"I don't do childern–"

"Too bad you will tomorrow and every day after that until you leave," Daemon frown at this little job you will have him doing, " I truly hope you didn't expect to stay here and do nothing, everyone has duties to uphold and I expect you to do yours." Daemon couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"What am I suppose to do with him, do he even know who I am." You rolled your eyes this time as you folded your arms.

"Of course, he does, you are his uncle and he heard of your reputation. All you have to do is watch over him and help him with his flying lessons while I am away." You said watching him, you could see the many thoughts going through daemon's head as he weigh his options.

Before daemon could say a word there was a knock at the door, you turn to get it and saw a servant. She gave a smile before leaving making you turn back to daemon.

"I have to leave. I trust you will be at the celebration at 8 on time and with baelor, I do not want you drinking around him or saying any vile words." You moved over to your desk where your dark red and black pattern cloak was hanging on your leather armchair, "His lessons start in the morning you should meet him and ser rewan in the courtyard near 9." You make your way back to the open door before stopping in the doorway to look at daemon.

"Before I go," Daemon leaned against the door way looking at you, "...stir clear of the tower the east wing," Daemon raised his brow.

"What's in the tower–" You shush him waving your hand in front of him.

"Nothing of your concern, and if you know what's good for you. You leave it be and stay clear of it, okay?" The seriousness in your voice made daemon reply with a simple yes.

You wished him a goodnight and leaving quickly, he watch you walk down the hall before he left himself opposite way. You hope that he took the bait and would wonder to the east wing, you may not have the power to read people mind but you do know couple of woman who can.

❧

@watercolorskyy @beggarsnotchoosey @cleverzonkwombatsludge @green-lxght @stormgirlfriendd @supermassiveblackhope

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mini-kunoichi · 1 year ago

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One Chance, pt.2

I wanted to add a little more to this before posting it, but I'll be busy for the next few weeks and I didn't want to leave y'all hanging. One of these days, I'll come up with my own header/line breaks. Just not anytime soon.

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing: Daemon x OC

Summary: What happens when you put Daemon and Addie together? Peak Youngest Sibling Energy, apparently.

Warning: swearing, hints at parental abuse, Daemon being a menace.

Many thanks to @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for beta reading and translating the High Valerian for my lazy ass.

Part 1 Here; Read on AO3

Daemon waited a few days before bringing up the idea of Adelayde staying at the Red Keep for the duration of their courtship. He would stroll the gardens with her every afternoon, and it quickly became the highlight of his days. Despite her family being only slightly above Small Folk, the lady proved herself to be intelligent and quick-witted. Once Daemon was sure he wanted to continue the courtship, it was time to put his plan into motion.

It didn’t take much to convince Adelayde’s parents to have her stay. Her father was too ambitious to decline and her mother seemed intent on pushing her daughter on him. His brother was harder, but not by much. Once he was able to speak to Viserys privately (and therefore openly) about his reasoning, his brother did not put up too much of a fuss. In fact, he seemed to think it was a lovely idea. Though he did make Daemon promise to “do things properly.” The Queen and her cunt of a father objected on behalf of “propriety” or whatever-the-fuck, but Daemon didn’t really care about them.

The hardest person to convince was, surprisingly, Adelayde herself. When Daemon brought it up to her, she suddenly became agitated.

He was leaning against a wall in the garden, arms crossed, watching her pace and wring her hands.

“I don’t see the issue,” he said eventually. “You will have a much more comfortable life here. You can have a life away from your parents.”

Daemon really didn’t like Lord and Lady Mullendore. They were both overbearing, though in very different ways. He had already suffered through a handful of dinners with them. Adelayde was such a different person when her parents were around; meek, quiet, and submissive. Everything he didn’t want in a wife. He would have thought she would want to be away from her parents.

“Daemon, I don’t know anyone here,” Adelayde replied.

“You know me. And Rhaenyra.”

“That’s not . . . that’s two people out of hundreds.” The hand-wringing got worse, and Daemon pushed himself off of the wall to take her hands in his own. She started to shift from foot to foot instead. It was annoying, but not as self-destructive.

“You will flourish here. I know you will. Especially without your family holding you back.” He had learned early on that honesty fostered honesty with Adelayde. Though how she always knew whether or not he was being honest was currently lost on him.

“My family doesn’t hold me back,” she replied with a frown.

“Well, your parents sure as fuck do.” Her frown deepened, but she didn’t reply. She knew he was right.

“Does not knowing anyone in King’s Landing really bother you that much?” he asked.

Adelayde let out a resigned sigh before saying, “I suppose I should be used to solitude by now.”

“So there should be no problem, then.”

“The place was familiar, though. I had my brothers. And a cousin.”

“I will keep you company,” Daemon said confidently.

It wouldn’t be too much trouble, he figured. They’d had interesting conversations thus far, and she’d even asked him to teach her High Valyrian. Lessons would surely take up much of her time. But instead of happily agreeing (as most maidens would), Adelayde’s nose scrunched in distaste.

“Surely we would get sick of each other.”

Nonsense. No one ever got sick of Daemon Targaryen. Though, he supposed he might become sick of seeing her. Right now, Addie was like a shiny new toy, and he did have a habit of tiring of his paramours rather quickly.

“Well, I’m sure you can find a way to occupy yourself,” he replied eventually.

“Yes,” she agreed. “I suppose I can spend time in the library when you become boring.”

The nerve of this woman.

– – – – – – – –

In the end, it was agreed that Addie would stay at the Red Keep for the duration of their three-month courtship. After that period, her return to the Uplands would be decided based on if and when a wedding would take place.

She was moved to more permanent (and lavish) quarters and assigned handmaids who tended to everything from dressing her to serving her meals and preparing baths. She found it discomfiting.

Being from a minor house, Addie was not used to having such attention. Sure, her father employed cooks, housekeepers, and the like, but nothing as elaborate as handmaids. They were surprisingly understanding, however, and mostly kept to themselves when not performing their duties. One of them even took it upon herself to acquire thread, cloth, and needles so that Addie could work on embroidery.

The little bluejay visited a few more times. No one ever acknowledged the bird and it never sang, so she ignored it each time.

Now that she had been moved to a new room, her father insisted that they break their fast as a family every morning. He always insisted she dismiss her handmaids so that they could “talk as a family.” It was the worst part of the day.

“You will not fuck this up for me,” her father growled, the same as every other morning.

“I won’t, Father,” Addie replied the same as every other morning.

“You’d better not,” he continued. “My place at court depends on this match. If he finds out you’re fucked in the head, he’ll reject you and it’ll all go to shit.”

I am not ‘fucked in the head’, she thought to herself bitterly, though she didn’t dare say anything out loud. Such defiance had major consequences.

She was saved from having to respond when her mother spoke up.

“Addie is a clever girl. She has navigated court politics quite well thus far. And the Prince seems taken with her.”

“I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion,” he spat. “Speak out of turn again and there will be consequences.”

The rest of the meal was eaten in tense silence.

— — — — — —

Addie was uncharacteristically reserved in the days leading up to her parent’s departure. Daemon still had certain duties with the city watch and Rhaenyra had taken it upon herself to entertain her, which he appreciated.

It was kind of the Princess, but the two did not really have much in common. Rhaenyra enjoyed the many forms of hunting; and while Addie was perfectly happy to visit the hawks, hounds, and horses used in such activities, she disliked the killing of animals. Rhaenyra’s assurance that the meat would be used in the kitchens made her feel only slightly better.

— — — — — — —

Daemon took it upon himself to tutor his potential bride in High Valyrian. Partly because the palace tutor had decided she was “too simple for such a task,” (where he’d gotten such an idea was beyond Daemon’s comprehension) but mostly because he wanted to spend more time with her.

Adelayde was a surprisingly quick study. And Daemon was a surprisingly good teacher. The only problem was their motivations; Addie intended to learn and Daemon intended to flirt.

This led to the woman’s never-ending frustrations and the prince’s never-ending amusement.

“Would you get your hand off my leg?” she hissed through her teeth.

“Whatever for?” Daemon asked innocently.

“I am trying to learn.” She smacked his hand off of her thigh, but he quickly replaced it.

“Say it in High Valyrian and I’ll consider it,” he replied with a smirk.

“Aōhi ondos hen ñuha pore ondurās.”

“Close. Kirimvose, aōhi ondos hen ñuha pore nādīnās. Manners go a long way, you know.”

Addie’s eyebrows pinched slightly as she processed the sentence. It’s rather cute. Not that he’d admit that out loud.

“What does ‘kirimvose’ mean again?” she asked eventually.

He answered with a smirk and she smacked him on the chest with the back of her hand. Addie had taken to delivering light swats or kicks when provoked—as long as they were alone, that is. Daemon understood the importance of appearance within the court and society, but he appreciated that she had become comfortable enough to treat him as an equal. He once asked her if she treated her own brothers with “such brutality” and she replied that she did not. She hit them harder.

“I’m not saying please when I’ve already asked you several times,” she stated primly.

Daemon compromised by scooting his chair closer to hers and draped his arm over the back of her chair. Addie shot him an annoyed look that made her look a little bit like her mother. She opened her mouth to make a smart retort when they were interrupted.

“I believe the lady has asked to not be touched,” came the cold voice of Criston Cole, their assigned chaperone for the afternoon. He had been the one to chaperone them a lot lately, probably instructed to spy on them by either the Queen or the Hand.

Addie turned to look at him, gave him one of the most judgemental and condescending once-overs that Daemon had ever seen, and replied, “I am perfectly capable of handling myself, Ser Criston.”

The knight hung his head and mumbled an apology, thoroughly humbled. Once Addie’s attention was back on the books, Daemon shot the knight a haughty smirk.

#daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #daemon x oc #daemon targareyn x oc #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic

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theforgottenmcrmy · 2 years ago

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Reprieve~ Part 3/3 (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

᯽ Please note that this is an overall Part 20 to the series Growing Strong. The masterlist, and part 1, can be found HERE ᯽

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, mentions of past character death, Daemon Targaryen is was and always will be a menace, and pg-13 level🔥🔥🔥

Summary: Harwin bit his tongue, ignoring the harsh pangs that resulted. He sincerely hoped that if he ever lost his senses and talked to you in such a disrespectful fashion, that you would swiftly thump him upside the head for his insolence. Regrettably, Queen Rhaenyra was in a decidedly more difficult position in her marriage than the both of you were, and you were far easier to appease than Prince Daemon would ever be- if he even bothered to try.

A/N: thank you all so much for the continued love and support for this story. this one was particularly fun to write. i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it.🖤🖤🖤

“I do hope you can forgive me.”

You wandered out from behind the dressing screen, blindly tugging at the laces behind you as you did so. Across the room, Harwin was fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt by the fireplace. When he saw you emerge, he paused and looked over. His hazel irises were illuminated by the nearby flames, and even from a distance, you saw them light up further, containing a warmth within them that caused your heart to skip a beat.

He beckoned you closer with a light wave of his hands. “And just what precisely am I to forgive you for, My Love?”

You crossed the room to stand before him, and turned once he calmly gestured for you to do so. The laces were exchanged from your hands to his own, fingers brushing one another softly. As he took them under his sole control, he immediately set about finishing the slightly frustrating but entirely achievable- with patience, of course- task of fastening them up.

“When the queen invited us to dinner earlier this afternoon, I readily agreed on our entire family’s behalf. But I must admit, I did not immediately consider the additional strain granting the request would place upon you and our sons… This day has been a rather endless one.”

And perhaps that was putting it lightly. It seemed rather difficult to believe that just that morning, you were still sailing across the Blackwater Bay, and had yet to even reach the shores of Dragonstone.

Harwin was silent for a few moments as he finished with the laces. You felt a slight tug on your back as he tied off the ends. You were certain it was not the neatest of ties- but you would not have changed it. You had dismissed all servants who had offered to assist you with preparing for dinner, desiring for little else than a few moments alone with your husband. Having Harwin generously take the frustrating task off your hands was merely an added benefit.

The worry that stirred within you was suddenly shattered by the feel of a feather light kiss placed soothingly upon the nape of your neck. You closed your eyes for a pause, leaning into the affection.

“The day has been long,” Harwin agreed, his own tiredness evident in his voice as he spoke lowly. For good measure, he pressed another tender just below your ear. “But a dinner with the queen could be a pleasant enough way to end it. What should you have done? Rejected her offer?”

“I was in no place to do so,” you acknowledged, turning around slowly to face him.

When Harwin looked down, eyes seeking yours, you suddenly realized that there was little space between you. Your noses brushed as you readjusted your stance, all too aware of your rather close proximity.

There was no other way to describe the look on Harwin’s face as his eyes raked you in other than pure suggestiveness.“Seems we are of the same mind about that… However, now that I have been blessed with the sight of you in this gown, I am starting to have grave concerns about how you have volunteered us to spend our time this evening.”

You flushed, dropping your gaze and adjusting the sleeves of the dress to smooth them out. It was not a new gown, but as it was one you loved. The fabric was of your favorite color, and it was one of the nicest ones you owned. The latter was a fortunate coincidence- when you had packed for the trip, you had only anticipated sharing company with a princess, not the queen.

“The gown is not new, Dearest. I have worn it before, and you have seen me in it many times.”

“Aye, I know.” Harwin reached out slowly, and took both of your hands in his, effortlessly ceasing your fidgeting with the finicky fabric. You were forced to meet his eyes again. While his gaze had never made you feel unsafe, there was something pleasantly daunting about the way he looked upon you then. “But each time you wear it, the feelings I felt the first time I ever saw you in it come flooding back. And with a vengeance, I might add.”

Damn Harwin and his incorrigibility. Your husband had never claimed to be a poet, but his words moved you more than those minstrels and singers ever could. And gods be damned, Harwin not only knew the effects that he could have upon you, but he always seemed to relish in it as well.

Had your sons not been on their way to your chambers to meet the two of you, perhaps even at that very moment, you might have indulged Harwin and given some serious reconsideration as to how else you could spend the evening.

But as it stood, any mutually enjoyable pursuit of pleasure would have to wait.

Regretfully, you withdrew your hands from his, ignoring the disappointed frown he gave you in response, and turned to the nearby lounge. Harwin’s doublet had been strewn across the back of it. You picked it up and held it out to him, helping him into the garment one arm at a time.

You straightened out the front of it for him, returning his earlier favor and fastening the buttons. You kept your focus on your hands while you worked, internally bracing yourself as you cleared your throat. “Whilst we still have a moment to ourselves, there is something I needed to speak with you about.”

You sensed the look of concern flashing over Harwin’s face without having needed to have seen it.

“What is it?”

After finishing the last of the buttons, you withdrew the letter, which you had kept with you after swapping your sandy beach dress for the evening gown, and held it up for Harwin to see. When you did, you bravely forced yourself to meet his eyes once more. “We have received a proposal. Terms of peace, as it were, from Dowager Queen Alicent.”

Judging from the lack of surprise on Harwin’s face, he had half-expected such a thing. On the other hand, part of you was still taken aback to having received any communication from the dowager queen, let alone communication on behalf of the Usurper, at all.

“A bold move, but not a foolish one,” he conceded after a moment of thoughtful silence. “Your actions carry a lot of weight, and within a particularly vital region of the realm, no less. The Usurper would make himself out to be more of a fool than he already is if he did not make at least one last attempt to sway you to his cause.”

You made a queer face.

“Do I want to read what the dowager queen has proposed? …Or will doing so put me in a foul mood?”

After the excursion on the beach, and the brief stop by the training yard, you had taken a few moments to skim over the contents of Queen Alicent’s letter before Harwin had returned to your chambers. Since Rhaenyra had firmly impressed upon you the importance of considering whatever the Greens had offered the two of you, the thought of the dowager queen’s letter had lingered in the back of your mind the entire afternoon. While it was vital that Harwin read the letter for himself, your curiosity had gotten the better of you, and you had found yourself unable to wait until he had found the opportunity to do so.

You had read the details of the dowager queen’s letter, stunned to a silence as you mulled over her words. Your first instinct was to feel insulted by the proposed terms. But upon further thought, and for not the first time that day, you were reminded of Rhaenyra’s words.

But the children, she’d said. The children could never be replaced…

The Usurper’s offer was, at first glance, entirely preposterous and completely unfair. If what he sought came to pass, everything that you and Harwin had worked for would be stripped from you. But the offer extended to your children had been considerably less harsh. With the Usurper’s terms, Derrik, Selwin, and Luciya, would have futures. Guaranteed futures.

And though they might feel betrayed, it was better to have your children alive and cross with you than to have to mourn the loss of them. Should the realm go to war, and should you choose to side with Rhaenyra, her victory was desired, but by no means certain. Anything less than absolute victory for the queen could spell fatal consequences for your entire family, even your children.

Yes, the contents of the letter desperately needed to be discussed with your husband. And while you could not- and would not- reach a conclusion on the matter without Harwin’s most trusted input, you knew what result showing him the letter now was likely to achieve.

“Perhaps it is best for us to discuss the details of it later,” you suggested hastily, flashing him a reassuring smile as you placed the letter down onto the small table beside the lounge. “Let us focus on getting through dinner first. That should be painless enough.”

With the almost guaranteed absence of the Rogue Prince, it was at least promised to be a quiet affair.

Harwin’s stubborn look confirmed that you would be discussing the letter in detail later, but he was quick to let the subject drop for the time being. “I suspect Prince Daemon will not be joining us this evening. Lucerys mentioned that he has been acting peculiar since the death of Viserys. Do you think there is trouble between him and the queen?”

You believed as much, based on Prince Daemon’s notable absence since your arrival this morning, and a passing comment Queen Rhaenyra had made to you during your conversation that morning.

… And if you believe my husband will willingly bend the knee to my witless half brother, you must understand him even poorer than I…

But, as you had no proof, you did not feel comfortable confirming your husband’s suspicions outright. Even if Rhaenyra had acknowledged any existing strife in her marriage-- and, she most certainly had not- it would not have felt proper discussing the intimate details of such things with others. Even Harwin.

You settled for a half-truth. “I could not say. However, it is a trying time for them all. That I know.”

Harwin’s expression softened with guilt. “Of course. I know you spent some time with the queen this afternoon. I would never ask you to betray her trust and divulge specific details- but how is she?”

“Almost all who surround her care for her greatly. And everyone else, who may not feel strongly about her personally, still actively vye for her success and ascension to the throne. She has been through an ordeal over the past few days,” - as we all have - “but I believe that the queen is precisely where she is meant to be.”

“-We, however, are not.”

The pair of you turned your heads to the door, where your sons had managed to slip into the room without detection. As you took in the sight of them, it was difficult to stifle the sense of pride that began to bubble within you. Before you stood two young men, physical portrayals of the best of both sides of their families, and donned in clothes of expensive fabrics you were most fortunate to be able to afford. Derrik and Selwin looked every bit the part of young lords who were about to dine with the royal family.

And far too grown, you realized with a small sadness.

Harwin’s own glint of pride within his eyes did not go unnoticed by you. “There the two of you are.”

Derrik hummed, feigning contemplation. Then, he turned to his brother. “Selwin, do you find it humorous that our parents, who have always preached the importance of punctuality, are about to be late to dine with our hosts?”

Selwin smirked. “And with that host being the queen, no less. It is shameful, really.”

“That’ll be enough from the two of you,” Harwin warned, though no true malice accompanied his words. Now that all attendees were present, he extended a familiar arm for you to take. “Shall we?”

The dining hall was a bit of a ways away from your chambers, but it offered a perfect opportunity for Harwin to gather and refocus his straying thoughts. As you walked through the stone corridors of Dragonstone, the four of you remained in a comfortable silence. Derrik and Selwin trailed a few paces behind you, while you were at Harwin’s side, your arm wrapped around his.

Harwin hoped to never lose the astounding feeling your simple touch gave him; it had the damnedest way of making his head spin and keeping him grounded. Perhaps his multitude of feelings about you might simply swallow him whole one day, and he’d drown- but if they did, he knew there would have been no kinder hands that could have dragged him beneath the waves.

He felt intermittent blips of pressure as your fingertips pressed into his bicep every now and then, as though you were lost in your own thoughts too. Harwin glanced down at you, hoping to discern what might have been on your mind. But though you were beside him, you seemed to be leagues away. You stared at the corridor up ahead, looking but not truly seeing your surroundings.

Whatever weighed on your mind, it must have been heavy. Harwin wanted little else than to ease you of that burden, but with the young ears of your sons just a few paces away, he begrudgingly accepted that it would have to wait.

When you finally reached the dining hall, which was identified only by the members of the Queensguard posted outside of the doors, the environment into which you entered felt just as calm. As your family walked through the threshold, the first thing to be heard was the soft crackling of the fireplace across the spacious room.

But the room was far from unoccupied. Though Queen Rhaenyra had yet to arrive- most fortunately, Derrik joked under his breath- the Velaryon princes were already present and waiting. Jacerys and Lucerys stood along the left hand wall of the room, conversing amongst themselves in hushed tones.

Hovering nearby, Harwin was surprised to discover, was none other than Joffrey, who had been deemed old enough to attend. Given that the youngest Velaryon prince was nothing but smiles as he patiently rocked back and forth with on his heels, Harwin was pleased he would be joining the festivities. When Joffrey noticed him, his face brightened considerably.

For all the faith Harwin seemed to have lost with Jacaerys over the years, it had seemed to have been transferred to his younger brother, whom Harwin had never truly known. But Harwin was not about to scorn Joffrey’s blind approval of him, and neither would he give up his efforts to make amends with Jacaerys.

The gods have a twisted sense of humor.

But there it was- a small, nearly imperceptible nod Jacaerys gave in Harwin’s direction as your family entered the room. It was not much, but while it was reinforced by Lucerys’s encouraging words from earlier that day, it all culminated in gifting Harwin the faintest sense of hope. Perhaps not all bridges had been burned between he and Jacaerys after all.

Before Harwin could debate on whether to broach a conversation with them or to take a seat at the long table, he was spared making a choice by the sudden arrival of the queen.

For everything she had been through, both from what was confirmed and suspected, Queen Rhaenyra entirely put together, with not a single hair out of place. She donned an exquisite gown that enhanced her already regal and commanding presence, and her attire was outshone only by the small smile that graced her lips. As she glanced about the room, starting with your family, and then to her own sons, her smile deepened.

Your words from just a short while ago echoed in Harwin’s mind.

… the queen is precisely where she is meant to be…

Rhaenyra was flanked by two young women on either side of her. Harwin did not need the introduction that the queen was likely about to offer- the young women were the very images of their late mother, Lady Laena Velaryon.

Harwin offhandedly hoped they shared her temperament, as opposed to that of their father’s, as well.

“Good evening,” Rhaenyra greeted all present, walking to the table with a determined pace. “Please forgive our lateness.”

One of the girls offered apologetically, “We had hoped our grandmother, Princess Rhaenys, would be joining us this evening.”

“Unfortunately, she was not feeling up to it,” finished the other.

That was understandable. If Harwin had been in Princess Rhaenys’s position, and had been all but forced to wait for days on end in the hope of your arrival, if the news of your passing had not managed to reach his ears first, he knew he would not have been up for idle chit chat either.

“Have you met my husband’s daughters?” the queen redirected politely. “Lady Baela and Lady Rhaena Targaryen. My ladies, this is Lord Harwin Strong, Lady Y/N Tyrell, and their sons- Lords Derrik and Selwin.”

After the pleasantries of nods and curtsies were exchanged between the members of your family and the two Targaryen girls, the queen gave her next command.

“Let us not delay any further. Please- sit.”

Having waited for her queue, several musicians promptly filed into the room. As a minstrel began to pluck away at his lute, a piper began to emit a few soft lulls from his instrument, and a few sweeping notes from a fiddle swept over the room, Rhaenyra took her rightful seat at the head of the table.

Harwin wordlessly gave you the honor of sitting at the queen’s right hand side. He pulled back the chair for you, and you whispered your appreciation to him as you sat down in the place he had offered. Once you were settled, Harwin took the seat to your right. Derrik took the next chair, and then Selwin followed suit, claiming the chair on the other side of him.

Across the table, Jacaerys went to take the seat across from Harwin, leaving the chair to the immediate left of the queen unoccupied. Lady Baela saw down on Jacaerys’s left, followed by Lucerys, and then Lady Rhaena.

Selwin extended a hand towards the empty chair to his right- an offer for Prince Joffrey, who looked about the room uneasily, visibly unsure of where to go. But upon the young lord’s silent invitation, Joffrey happily sat and took the chair for himself, helping to balance the number of those seated at the table.

Once the youngest of her present sons was seated, Queen Rhaenyra gave him a pleased smile.

The first course was brought out swiftly after, and for a short while, all was pleasant. Soft music filled the air, and small talk dictated most of the conversation, at least until the delicious wine that was offered as refreshment began to work its effects. Harwin participated in conversation whenever he was addressed, but for the most part, he enjoyed being witness to the otherwise calm and relaxing scene around him. It was refreshing to see you forget your woes for a while, and to discuss things with Rhaenyra that were not restricted to the state of the realm or other political matters. It gave him joy to see his sons lower their guards for the first time in weeks, and to work on reforging their bonds with the Velaryon princes and spark new relations with Ladies Baela and Rhaena.

Years ago, Harwin had borne witness to a similar moment. An evening meal, surrounded by his loved ones. You, joined by your sons, enthralled by the tales being told by Lord Lyonel. Harwin hadn’t known it then, but that moment had been the calm before the storm. That very same night had ended with Harrenhal aflame, again, and his father dead in a most monstrous fashion.

Despite the overall happiness of those around him, a small, unsavory part of Harwin feared that this moment before him shared too many similarities with that night from years ago. His gut was filled with an inescapable sense of dread.

What laid ahead? What laid beyond Dragonstone, back on the mainland? What foul plots were being devised in King’s Landing? How many men marched- or creatures soared- towards Dragonstone at that very moment?

…

By the time the second course was well underway, the empty chair to the queen’s left had become somewhat of the elephant in the room. Rhaenyra looked at the empty chair on the occasion, and Harwin had already caught you glancing at the place across the table from you more than once.

As servants tidied up in order to make way for the third and final course, the queen called out to her eldest son.

“Jacerys, in light of the company present, perhaps you might move to take this seat here?”

Jacaerys, visibly honored to have been invited to sit at his mother’s side, bowed his head and rose to his feet. He looked down to Lady Baela, and offered for her to follow.

“Ah, good! I see that you have not started the main course without me.”

There was an audible falter in the musicians’ playing, followed by a hasty resumption of the song.

The heads of all those in the room whirled towards the entryway, where none other than Prince Daemon Targaryen strolled into the room. Prince Daemon was dressed in finery one would expect of a prince, and his hair was styled intentionally, not unkempt in the slightest. Had Harwin not heard Lucerys’s recounts of his bizarre behavior, he would not have been able to deduce anything was amiss with the prince consort from his looks alone.

It had been many, many years since Harwin had last seen the Rogue Prince. If his memory served him well, and it usually did, the last time had been at the then Princess Rhaenyra’s wedding celebratory feast. Whilst keeping a watchful eye on you as you were forced to entertain the incessantly trifling Lord Loreon Lannister, Harwin had caught glimpses through the crowded dance floor of Prince Daemon acting rather unseemly with his niece. But in the scuffle and panic of the masses that was ignited by Ser Criston Cole bludgeoning a man to death with his bare hands, Prince Daemon had managed to flee the scene and the room without a trace.

Harwin had heard, second hand of course, that Prince Daemon had then- briefly- courted Lady Laena Velaryon. The pair were then swept off to Essos, courtesy of Caraxes and Vhaegar, for years thereafter.

Though many members of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon had grown over the years, Harwin knew without a doubt that Prince Daemon had changed little. The calculating look in his eyes as he swept the room, noting every soul present, was a familiar one. The Rogue Prince seldom placed himself in a situation where he was not fully knowledgeable of the stakes, or where he might be taken by surprise. For Prince Daemon, knowledge had always been power. He might not have ever been as downright scheming as Lord Otto Hightower, but like the former Hand of the King, Prince Daemon had means with which he accomplished his ends. Harwin had personally witnessed the younger Targaryen prince leverage many situations to his favor throughout their shared time on the City Watch.

“My Love,” Rhaenyra greeted him curtly, turning her focus back to her plate. “You have come to join us. At last.”

“Forgive me,” Daemon replied, sounding half-sincere at best. “I was strategizing on your behalf, My Queen.”

As he meandered across the room and headed over towards the unoccupied seat that was to be his own, he eyed the food upon the table with slight disdain. The servants scurried under his scrutinous gaze, quickly removing the last of the empty dishes and gesturing for the main course to be brought out with haste.

Daemon hummed shortly. “I was not aware we were celebrating… Had I known there was to be a feast, I might have made more of an effort to be punctual.”

Harwin bit his tongue, ignoring the harsh pangs that resulted. He sincerely hoped that if he ever lost his senses and talked to you in such a disrespectful fashion, that you would swiftly thump him upside the head for his insolence. Regrettably, Queen Rhaenyra was in a decidedly more difficult position in her marriage than the both of you were, and you were far easier to appease than Prince Daemon would ever be- if he even bothered to try.

The queen watched her husband out of the corner of her eye. With more patience than Harwin would have had, she corrected him. “This is dinner. ‘Tis hardly what I would deem a feast.”

Daemon said nothing. As he approached his chair, he gave Jacaerys a pointed and nearly challenging look. In silent defeat, though his jaw was noticeably clenched, the young man sat back down into the seat he had been occupying throughout the evening thus far. Daemon slid into the empty chair with a practice ease, and when he was settled, he looked up and across the table. His smile was almost playful as he drank in the sight of your family.

“I see our guests have arrived.” His attention drifted further down the table, to your sons. “Ah, and these must be the Strong boys.”

“Derrik and Selwin,” you clarified immediately, sparing either of them from having to formulate a response.

“Always a pleasure to see you, Lady Tyrell,” Daemon addressed, his violet eyes flickering back over in your direction. “However, it is most unfortunate that your long-awaited visit to Dragonstone was overshadowed by such gloomy circumstances.”

“Agreed, My Prince. My family and I would like to offer you our sincerest condolences on the loss of your brother.”

Daemon tilted his head thoughtfully. “Thank you.”

Relieving his tongue, Harwin bit the inside of his cheek next. Though Daemon’s words were perfectly cordial, it felt as little more than a prelude to some further trickery. There was a noticeable shift in the air, and tension sunk into most of those seated at the table; Harwin could not have been the only one waiting for the usual chaotic demeanor to emerge from the Rogue Prince.

Meanwhile, Prince Daemon poured himself a goblet of wine from a nearby pitcher, and took his time indulging in several sips. “I suppose you, Lady Tyrell, more so than most everyone else present, can truly understand what it is like to lose a brother.”

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra warned him.

You stiffened beside Harwin, who watched you carefully out of the corner of his eye. However, his focus was mainly on Daemon, who seemed to be regarding you with a gleeful look in his eyes. Daemon looked to be practically on the edge of his seat as he impatiently waited to see if you would take the bait he had so plainly laid before you.

Unfortunately for him, you did not. Instead, you only offered him a conceding nod and a tight lipped smile. As you reached for your own goblet of wine, Harwin could not help but note how comparatively pale your knuckles appeared as you gripped the cup with unnecessary force. The death of your brother had been many years ago, but it had always been a sore subject, even on better days. He was not sure how he might have known, but Harwin believed Daemon more than capable of deducing as much, and that his incendiary words to you had been chosen deliberately.

Slowly, as to not be seen, Harwin lowered his left hand beneath the table, and reached out towards you. His fingers brushed against the fabrics of your skirts briefly before he rested his palm reassuringly just above your knee. The tight grip you had on the goblet immediately eased, the blood returning to your knuckles once more.

Opting to ignore Harwin for the time being, Daemon looked down the row once again, towards Derrik and Selwin. When his eyes landed on the younger of the two, they visibly lit up. He let out a short laugh. “Gods, this one really looks just like him, doesn’t he? Why, I practically feel as though I am dining with a ghost… You know, I bested Lord Derron Tyrell in a tournament or two back in the day.”

But never in archery, Harwin recalled. That had always been your brother’s forte, and one of Daemon’s few weaknesses. It was a skill that you had been most elated that your eldest son sought to better himself at, and something that traditionally the Lords of House Tyrell had always prided themselves on.

Selwin sat up straighter, slightly fidgeting underneath the weight of all the attention. In an innocently misguided attempt to defend the memory of your late brother, he responded, “I have been told I am an even better swordsman than my uncle was at my age, My Prince.”

Daemon merely hummed in response, clearly not putting too much credit into the young man’s claim.

“‘Tis true,” Jacaerys asserted, strong and steadfast. Unlike Selwin, it was apparent that Jacaerys was entirely too familiar with the Rogue Prince’s ways. “Luke and I saw it for ourselves. We were all in the training yard for a few hours this afternoon.”

Daemon’s voice was dry. “So I have heard, young prince.”

Daemon locked eyes with Harwin for the briefest of moments, but it felt far from coincidental. Then, he turned to face the queen.

“I ran into Ser Joran on my way here. He had more than a few choice words to describe what transpired this afternoon in the yard… Were you aware of our guests’ attempts to usurp your sons’ training regimen?”

Harwin’s lips twitched as he mentally chided himself to stay quiet. He should have known Ser Joran was not one to let things lie. Thankfully, the queen saved him from having to come to his own defense.

“I am aware that Lord Harwin offered his insight into areas in which Ser Joran’s tutelage may have been lacking, My Love. Based on the immediate improvement I witnessed from Lucerys and Joffrey personally, I dare say that Ser Joran might have been over exaggerating his claims when he spoke with you.”

“Hm... Seems as though he might not be the only one with a proclivity to over exaggerate around here,” Daemon sneered, eyeing Selwin.

“My brother speaks the truth, My Prince,” Derrik chimed in, his protective nature coming to the forefront as a result of the Rogue Prince’s taunting remarks. “Perhaps he could stand to be a bit more modest, but Selwin is rather skilled for his age. He’s even bested me a handful of times.

After yet another prey making their presence known, Prince Daemon turned almost menacingly towards your eldest son. “And as for you… Why, Lord Strong, this one looks just like you when you arrived at the capital, all those years ago. You were around his age then, were you not? …. Let us hope your sons are not as green as you were.”

“You need not dignify that with a response, My Lord,” Rhaenyra informed Harwin coldly, though her piercing eyes did not leave Daemon. Her next words served as both an explanation for and warning to the man beside her. “My husband has not been well since my father’s passing. He is most certainly exhausted, and knows not what he says.”

But now that Harwin had been properly addressed, he was all too eager to get a word in. He could have cut in earlier, and was very tempted to do so from the first moment Daemon had spoken to you. Had the circumstances been different, had King Viserys still lived and Prince Daemon was merely still a prince, and not the prince consort of the new queen, Harwin just might have.

However, Harwin also knew that doing so would have only caused more of a scene than was already unfolding. And though Harwin did not hold Daemon in high regard, he did care for Queen Rhaenyra, and your devotion to your former lady was even greater than his own. Disrespecting the queen’s husband without cause, or even with it, would have been a poor demonstration of you and your family’s loyalty to her.

If Harwin had to resign himself to speaking to Daemon far more kindly than he would have preferred in order to maintain the already fragile peace, so be it.

“My Prince, as you may recall, King Viserys granted me my knighthood shortly after arriving at King's Landing. At the time, he had cited multiple noble acts performed under your command, and most assuredly events that you would have been knowledgeable of, as cause. My sons may be young, but there is no telling what they may achieve in time. Practicing poor offensive techniques for years can cost one their life in a duel gone awry. But a week’s worth of proper defensive maneuvers could save oneself in an instant. Years of experience by itself is not always a guaranteed indication of success.”

“But it does not hurt to have, no?” Daemon countered. To Harwin’s great annoyance, he was still smirking and appeared to be completely unbothered. “Although, I suppose what you lacked in experience might have been more than compensated by your father serving as Hand of the King. In light of these ‘noble acts’ you speak of, we can all be most assured that your father having my brother’s ear had absolutely nothing to do with your rather expedited knighthood, my Lord Strong.”

“That is more than enough, Daemon.” The queen’s glare was not made of ice, but fire. “Perhaps you ought to retire, and clear your head. You might even be more agreeable after getting some rest.”

Her words were laced with extreme displeasure, and Harwin highly suspected that any other man in the Seven Kingdoms might have bent to her will by the sheer force of them. But, unfortunately for the rest of them present, Prince Daemon never would.

Daemon waved her off flippantly. “I do not need rest, My Queen. I need to take Caraxes, fly to King’s Landing at once, wrangle that oaf of a man that they call my nephew from the throne, and knock his far more deserving namesake’s crown off his empty head, so that you may climb its steps and take your rightful seat completely unencumbered. But, since you have deprived me of that pleasure for the time being, all I am in need of now is a fine meal with my wife, my children, and our lovely guests.”

Harwin had not felt the need to seek the approval of Prince Daemon and had not held his opinion in high regard for many years. The other man could think- and say- whatever he wished about him. The more Daemon focused his meddling ire on Harwin, the less likely he would be to turn it towards you, or Derrik, or Selwin. Despite his better sense, Harwin’s patience for verbal slights against the three of you was rapidly deteriorating. No matter what Daemon had experienced over the past few days, none of it gave him the right to target his anguish upon you.

But still, the Rogue Prince’s words about him and Lord Lyonel must have caused Harwin to have at least grimaced. He was so taken by surprise, he nearly flinched when he felt your hand cover his, which was still resting above your knee.

Looking somewhat dejected and disappointed that, like you, Harwin had refused to take his bait, Daemon sighed somewhat dramatically. Suddenly, he tilted his head backwards, taking his goblet with him, downed the remainder of his wine in one go.

The music continued to play as all watched his rather improper display.

Letting out another sigh, albeit a content one this time, Daemon placed the goblet back onto the table with a rather rude force.

If looks could kill, the queen would have felled her husband right then and there.

Not for the first time that evening, Daemon ignored his wife. His attention reverted back to Derrik and Selwin.

“A word of advice? You needn’t even bother with gaining combat experience- the realm is going to war. And if you wish to save your own heads, or at the very least, spare your parents the grief of having to bury either of you, I pray that you cease your efforts of making yourselves out to be grander than what truly you are at once and heed these words: bide your time. You will soon bear witness to the many rewards the two of you shall reap as a result of your mother and father’s closeness to our queen. And it will come to you at no effort, no cost at all.”

“I imagine that you must be speaking from your own experience, having been the brother of a king.”

The music erupted into a short but loud shriek of a wail as the minstrel plucked a lute string so hard it snapped, the piper gasped up into his instrument, and the fiddle player squeaked out a pitiful abomination of a nonexistent chord.

At first, Harwin could not be sure who had spoken. But then, on a hunch, he turned to look down the row.

Selwin was staring daggers into the Rogue Prince, in what was easily the harshest of looks Harwin had ever seen upon his youngest son's face. His jaw was clenched tightly, as though forcing another word from his lips might break it altogether. The boy gripped his fork in his fist so similar to how you had been clutching your goblet.

Part of Harwin was immensely proud at Selwin’s boldness. The other part of him was completely appalled at his brazen lack of respect for one of their royal hosts. The most dangerous one of them, at that.

“Lad, apologize to Prince Daemon at once.”

But Selwin said nothing. He did not even move. He only continued to stare down his indomitable foe across the table. As if it were possible, the grip he had on his fork only seemed to tighten.

The room was silent, eerily so. The eyes of all present flickered between Prince Daemon and Selwin, bearing witness as the two seemed to lock onto one another with unwavering steely looks. Your fingernails dug into Harwin’s hand then, silently conveying your rising panic.

A sense of urgency came over him then, and Harwin’s mind was all but shouting for him to intervene. He knew he had to say something, anything to spare his youngest son the wrath of the Rogue Prince that Harwin was all too familiar with.

But the Tagaryen prince’s next move shocked the room even more so than Selwin’s insensitive words had.

Prince Daemon smiled.

The corners of his lips upturned dramatically, and the hardness of his stare softened. He let out a breathy chuckle, and with it, the tension in the room began to disappear, giving way to a far more tolerable air of caution.

Daemon wagged a finger vaguely in Selwin’s direction. Still chuckling, he looked over at you and Harwin. “I like this one. Tell me, did the two of you intentionally set out to raise your sons to be so blatantly disrespectful of their betters?”

“Of course not,” you quipped, firmly, but still obviously weary of the Rogue Prince’s potential rebuke.

“Splendid,” Prince Daemon deemed, beaming as he looked back over towards your sons, particularly focusing on Selwin. “A wild streak you’ve got, then. I’ll say, there may be hope for you Strong boys yet.”

Once the realization that Prince Daemon was not enraged, but rather thoroughly bemused, the other room’s occupants, Harwin, yourself, and Rhaenyra chief among them, settled uneasily back into your seats.

The minstrel quickly restrung his lute, and the trio of musicians resumed their song.

The queen could not call for the last course to be served quick enough.

The rest of the dinner passed relatively uneventfully.

Unfortunately, while Prince Daemon’s snide comments had lessened considerably after Selwin’s noble and brave outburst, they had not ceased entirely. By the time Harwin had made it back to your chambers, he was still brewing from all the insults he had begrudgingly been forced to bear throughout the evening.

When the door finally closed behind the both of you, Harwin exhaled an audible sigh of relief.

“Can you believe him?” Harwin admonished, practically storming across the opposite end of the room. “I still have half a mind to find the prince consort right now and enlighten him on how disappointed I was in his rather poor welcome.”

“You will do no such thing,” you ordered Harwin, only half-seriously. “We are guests here, solely at the mercy of the queen. We cannot instigate altercations with one of our hosts- no matter how rude his remarks might have been.”

Selwin had tiptoed an extremely dangerous line at dinner, one that briefly had you genuinely fearing for his very life. You would not have any other member of your family repeat his mistake.

Harwin ripped off his doublet, a few buttons protesting and popping off with the harsh action, and tossed it onto the nearby lounge, but did not face you yet. The theatrics of it all gave him pause. He was angry at Daemon, not you, he reminded himself quickly. He took a moment to take a few deep breaths, staring into the flames of the fireplace as he did so. When he could speak clearly once more, he looked back over at you.

“So I am expected to sit in silence, while he hurls insults at his leisure? I am not prideful, he can make as many jabs at myself as he deems fit- but I will not allow him to speak of you, or our sons, in such an ill manner ever again.”

You followed him across the room slowly, undeterred by your husband’s understandable anger. “If you allow the prince to see how much it troubles you, I fear he will only garner more satisfaction from it, and increase his efforts to rile you up so.”

Harwin huffed in defeat, and rested a hand against the ledge above the fireplace. He leaned his weight into it, bracing himself as he stared back down into the flames. You were right, and he knew that. But that didn’t mean he had to happily accept the reality of the situation.

He was so lost in his thoughts, he had failed to notice you sneak up beside him. When one of your hands gently brushed some stray curls up and away from his face, he flinched slightly. Only when he visibly relaxed under your touch did you speak.

“If it is the same to you, I do not wish to speak any more of the prince consort tonight.”

Harwin nodded in agreement, but could not meet your eyes yet.

“You have all this… energy,” you observed thoughtfully, a specific inflection in your tone that immediately piqued Harwin’s curiosity. “Might I offer you a more productive means of expending it?”

You brushed a few more strands of curls up and away from his face. The action was terribly calming, and Harwin’s eyes fell shut of their own accord.

Another sigh slipped from his lips. “I admire your tenacity My Love, but if I have to write one more letter to some lord I have exchanged a few words with ten years ago at the feast of another lord whom I only ever met in passing-”

“No, no. No more letters,” you promised sweetly, removing your hand from his hair and letting it trail to his shoulder, and then down his arm. Once you reached his hand, you wrapped both of yours around his. “When was the last time we had a moment alone, and out of the earshot of the children? … A moment where we could do anything we wished?”

Not for the first time that evening, Harwin tensed. But this time, it was not caused by a sense of uneasiness, but rather anticipation. He stood up straight, abandoning his post by the fireplace as a more enticing idea crossed his mind. “Now that you mention it, it has been a while.”

“Mhmm. It has.”

“You have always been one for excellent ideas, My Love,” Harwin praised, lightly tugging on your hand in order to close the remaining distance between you. As your familiar bodies pressed up against one another, it was clear that any tension from the dinner from whence you had just returned from was gone.

You smiled up at him coyly. “We would be fools to squander this opportunity, no?”

Harwin softly withdrew his hand from yours and reached up cup the sides of your face. As his tender thumbs swiped lightly over your cheeks, he offered you a small smile, feeling strangely bittersweet. “I am afraid that the time is well past for that, My Love.”

You placed your hands overtop of his own, and your brows furrowed in confusion. “Is that so?”

“Aye. I have been a fool for you since the day we met.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, embracing the burning sensation you felt in your cheeks as you stood up on your toes. Harwin craned his neck downwards to meet you halfway.

Once your lips met, all thoughts of Larys’s betrayal, Prince Daemon’s cruelty, and even the ominous and rapidly looming war were far removed from your minds. The only thing that mattered was each other. And thoroughly enjoying being in the other’s presence in all the delightful ways you had come to know.

A startled gasp slipped from your lips as Harwin took you up into his arms. You broke away, but your faces remained close. When he smirked at having taken you by surprise, you decided to kiss it right from his face. You succeeded, and Harwin’s face scrunched up humorously as you felt him walk the two of you over towards the large bed.

He plopped you gently, but still, rather unceremoniously, upon the mattress, and followed shortly after. As he crawled on top of you, you were trapped into place by his arms and legs. But, you wondered- if you were a willing captive, did that even make you a prisoner at all?

Harwin looked down at you hungrily. He was unabashedly gawking at you, but you could not say you minded. Bracing his weight on one of his hands, the other trailed up the sleeve of your dress, and up past your shoulders, before finally resting on the side of your neck. He applied no pressure, but his touch was scorching just the same.

Suddenly, his expression softened.

“What is it?” you breathed, concerned by the sudden shift.

Harwin shook his head once. Then, he leaned down and captured your lips with his own. Unlike the fervent kisses that had come before, this one was softer. Almost sweet. However, like the others, when Harwin broke away, you were still left craving more.

“I love you,” he said simply.

The love you felt for Harwin felt nearly all-consuming. You wondered if one day, it might just set you ablaze, and you’d burst into nothing but flames- but if it did, you knew there was no one you’d rather burn away to nothingness with.

The very thought, while not a new discovery by any means, left you feeling as though you’d lost your voice. In lieu of returning Harwin’s words, you reclaimed his lips, hoping the gravity of your feelings were conveyed in the passionate expression.

Harwin seemed perfectly placated with your more than adequate response. You mutually pulled away only when you were in dire need to breathe. But even then, Harwin was persistent. As you lightly gasped for air, Harwin leaned down, burying his face into your neck and placing kisses wherever he could.

When you felt him nip at the tender skin, you yelped.

“Harwin!” you chided half-heartedly. “We will have to leave this room in the morning. Perhaps you ought to limit your markings to places not so visible?”

Harwin chuckled deeply into your ear, the sound filling your heart with an intoxicating warmth. He pulled back, budging his nose with yours, and his eyes danced down to your lips. “Now, where would be the fun in that?”

You took advantage of his temporary distraction and snuck your hands underneath his undershirt. Now that Harwin had been the one to have been taken by surprise, it was easy to see why he enjoyed it so much. Your hands traveled up his chest, slow and teasing, before you laid your palms open and flat upon his pectorals. His skin was practically searing to the touch.

“You are wearing far too many clothes.”

In a flash, Harwin had removed the offending garment with a flourish, and was now lingering above you once again, his chest now bare. You snuck your hands around his broad shoulders, placing them upon his back and willing him to come closer. Not that he needed much guidance.

One of Harwin’s hands traveled south, and his fingers brushed tantalizingly upon your waist. Then, he tucked his hand between your back and the mattress, blindly seeking out the laces of the dress. “Perhaps we can level the field?”

“Wait!” you exclaimed, clasping a hand around his wrist to stop him.

Harwin stilled at once, nearly crippling worry washing upon his face as he feared he had terribly erred. “What is it?” he asked, his concern compelling his voice to come out in a hushed whisper. “Do you wish to stop? … Perhaps that is for the best. It has been a long day and-”

“No, no, no,” you insisted hurriedly, placing your index finger upon his lips to silence him. Harwin’s hazel eyes, now widened with worry and confusion, settled upon you. “I do not wish to stop. But I just thought of something. If you enjoy this gown as much as you claim, perhaps we could… leave it on?”

Harwin’s eyes widened as he processed your suggestion.

“Just for a little bit?”

The look in Harwin’s eyes did not change.

Mistaking his lack of immediate response as hesitancy to reject you, your face grew hot from embarrassment. You moved to shuffle out from underneath him, accepting that you had inadvertently killed the intimate moment, but Harwin’s hand on your back pressed firmer.

In a whirl, he swooped you up once more, swapping places with you. As Harwin’s back hit the mattress, his strong arms ensnared you, steadying you in place atop of him. Embarrassment fleeted as more alluring feelings flittered back into your mind. You tucked your legs into Harwin’s sides, and slowly leant forward. Now having the upper hand, you traced your fingers idly over his bare chest.

You could see Harwin watching you mesmerizingly in your periphery.

“You are going to be the death of me one day,” he informed you plainly, his voice thick with restraint.

You reached up and nipped at his lower lip playfully. One of Harwin’s hands pressed flat against the small of your back, and the other cupped the back of your neck. Though several layers of clothing still existed between you, it certainly did not seem that way.

“Sounds like a heavenly way to go.” You bit teasingly at his collarbone next, smiling to yourself as Harwin exhaled a shaky groan. “If it’s any consolation, I would not be too far behind you.”

Not even Dowager Queen Alicent’s letter, still placed upon the table beside the lounge, was enough to deter either of you as you sought comfort from one another for the first time following an emotionally taxing few days.

To Lady Y/N Tyrell of Highgarden:

I write to you on the behest of His Grace, Aegon, second of his name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.

I will spare you pretty words and petulant musings. Mother to mother, I beseech you to give serious thought to all that His Grace has generously offered in the hopes of maintaining peace across the realm. Whilst you and Lord Harwin deliberate your next course of action, I needn’t remind you of your children, as I presume they shall be at the forefront of all your considerations.

In his mercy, King Aegon is willing to pardon both you and your husband for your failure to immediately swear fealty to him, which, as you know, he is owed as your rightful king and honorable liege. However, such pardons shall only be granted if all of the following terms are rigorously adhered to and acted upon with the urgency with which they demand:

Neither you or Lord Harwin shall make any public or private, written or verbal, declaration of support for any liege other than that of His Grace, King Aegon. Your entire family shall return to King’s Landing at the soonest opportunity. You all shall publicly bend the knee and swear your allegiance before the eyes of the Court and His Grace alike. You will vow to serve your king faithfully and justly until the end of your days, or suffer pain of death.

Lord Harwin is to renounce his lordship to Harrenhal, including all claims he may have upon its wealth, holdings, and lands. Your eldest son, Derrik, shall inherit the title in his stead, and will be declared by His Grace to be Lord of Harrenhal. Your youngest son, Selwin, shall be proclaimed as Derrik’s heir, which he shall remain until your eldest son has acquired a son of his own.

Whilst Selwin will serve as heir to Harrenhal for as long as is needed, King Aegon has learned of the promise he shows with a blade and other relevant military skills. His Grace has determined that Selwin’s interests may be best suited in pursuits outside of the political scope. As such, it has been decided that Selwin will be made a squire, with a knighthood in a few years time likely to follow, pending loyal service and skilled merit. Your son will be granted the honor of choosing whom he shall serve. My dear cousin, Lord Ormund Hightower, and my personal shield, Ser Criston Cole, have already informed me that they would be more than willing to take him in their service immediately.

You are to renounce your ladyship to Highgarden, including your claim to all other titles, wealth, holdings, and lands that are incorporated into the lordship of House Tyrell. Your daughter, Luciya, will inherit these titles in your stead, and will be declared by His Grace to be Lady of Highgarden. You shall be permitted to act as regent, under the supervision of an advisor of His Grace’s choosing, until Luciya and her betrothed come of age.

Your daughter Luciya will be betrothed to Lord Justan, only son and heir of Lord Garrett Redwyne. They shall be wed one month after the youngest of the two has passed their fifteenth name day. Upon their union, the titles, lands, holdings, and wealth of the Houses Redwyne and House Tyrell shall be unified, and from that day on, shall become one in the same for all inheritance purposes.

Adhere to all of these terms, and in exchange, King Aegon has promised that you, Lord Harwin, your children, and all of those in your service who follow your lead shall be spared your lives. Swear your unyielding loyalty and obey his commands, and you shall be pardoned from all treasonous acts which you may have committed since the passing of His Grace, King Viserys.

There will be no other terms offered, nor negotiations considered. I ask that you and Lord Harwin discuss this proposal with the seriousness with which the grave circumstances that have befallen the realm requires.

I await your response, but accept that there may be none.

Sincerely,

Her Grace,

Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower

A/N: hey, you! yeah, you! if you’re still reading this story, I just wanted to say thank you, and that I appreciate you a lot.🖤 have a great rest of the weekend and upcoming week!🖤🖤🖤

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harrylovesteas · 1 year ago

Text

xoxo , little bird .ᐟ ( modern hotd )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ the end of a chapter.

summery : you and your two best friends are preparing to move to king’s landing for the summer. as always , helaena is always right.

rating : mature , this chapter will include drug use and mature language.

hello , my little birds , i know , i have been silent for sometime now. i’ve seen your messages that have piled up over the last few months , and i can promise i have not abandoned you. i’m sure our lovely nobles have been praying to the seven that i would not return. but , alas , i am not here for them. of course , i take pride in exposing their affairs and showing all of their nasty flaws. but i’m the pride of smallfolk , i live to show you all that all of your ‘idols’ are nothing more than the worst of the seven kingdoms.

now , that is is summer and all of our favorites are swarming the capital once again , what can we expect this summer , i wonder? i’ve seen several questions whether i suspected that our favorite mysterious prince would reunite with the baratheon sisters after their orgy , but i do not think this will happen. several little birds in storm’s end informed me that floris and cassandra have not gotten along since they shared our prince. aegon , on the other hand , i’ve seen he’s already started his partying along the streets of silk with some of the locals’ favorite dancers. i’m sure our lovely queen will be paying off the tabloids to make sure all the videos and photos do not leak into the media , but do not fear , the green queen cannot buy my silence and you shall find them linked in his album like always. i’ve also heard that our dreamy helaena will be returning this summer now that she has graduated citadel university this year. i suspect she will be returning within a few days with our daring daeron and baela who also attends the oldtown university.

in other news , we have heard that princess rhaenyra and prince daemon have returned with their children from their quick family vacation in pentos. jacaerys seems to have gotten a tan , joffrey has apparently gotten past his biting habit , rhaena has been charming all the elites across the narrow sea , the two youngest princes have been sleeping , and lastly , i’ve heard the whispers that our young lucerys has been an absolute menace to society.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ as always , my little birds , send me photos , videos and all the dirty details that you have heard and witnessed.

until next time ,

xoxo

your favorite little bird.

Boxes lay scattered around the house you had shared with Helaena and Baela. Now that your final semester closed behind you, and graduation passed, your university home showed the close of your academic career. For weeks now, you and the eldest Targaryen girl remained close to campus as your rental agreement had not ended until now. If the three of you had been mildly responsible you would have started packing as soon as the semester had ended as Helaena had suggested, but instead, the three of you manage to push off packing until only two nights before the end of your lease. Of course, the trio had deep cleaned their humble abode before packing, but it was not until the night before the move-out day that everything had been packed into a mountainous amount of boxes.

Your body officially ached with the amount of of packing you had done, and all you wanted to do at this point was take a hot shower and wash away the dried sweat that surely covered every inch of your body. Letting out an exasperated sigh, your legs lay spread out along the cherry hardwood floor of the dining room and you began to lay back on the ground. With your eyes closed, your back cracked as it realigned itself. If you knew that the movers would not be knocking at the front door at any moment, you probably could have drifted off into a somewhat needed slumber.

Somewhere in the kitchen, by your guess, by the island came a loud crash. A groan passed through your lips, but your eyes remained shut.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ shit,❞ Baela hissed as footsteps coming from Helaena’s former bedroom flooded your ears.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝What happened?❞ the blonde questioned finding you unmoving able Baela bent picking up the large box once again.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝Our snack box scared the shit out of me, that’s what happened,❞ Baela remarked with slight annoyance. ❝ do we even need all of this for our ride to King’s Landing?❞

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝We are not throwing it all out,❞ the eldest female argued for the fifth time since she instructed that you and Baela pack it all up earlier that day. ❝ besides, if we don’t eat it all, I’m sure Daeron will eat most of it.❞

While Baela began to argue with her cousin, you could feel your eyes roll, all you wanted was some sort of peace and clearly, that was not going to happen any time soon. Part of you wanted to know how you got yourself in such a predicament. If you would have told yourself that you would be spending your last summer of freedom with your roommate and her family, you would have laughed. Of course, when you and Helaena had been fast friends in your freshman year of university and moved in together, you knew that you two would be inseparable. But, what you didn’t count on was how it felt wrong when the two of you were apart. Then, when Baela had started hanging around the two of you so much that she lived at your place, it only made sense to add her to the lease and make it official. Now, the three of you felt more like sisters than roommates, and you knew that the three of you were the lucky ones. Especially when you heard all of the horror stories of bad roommates.

But that did not mean that the three of you did not have your issues as well. Baela was a wild child, the very definition of the life of the party. She was beyond gorgeous, had a huge heart, and had the loudest laugh. When Baela was around there was little doubt of not having a good time. Helaena was artistic, divine beauty, quiet, and like you indulged in marijuana. Where you fit between the two of them you weren’t certain, you had been more reserved and less trusting of the two of them combined. Where you loved music as much as both of them, you would rather stay at home with a good book or movie rather than go out. You were no saint, but the idea of being caught up in some sort of trouble made you more reserved than the two of them. While royalty flowed in their blood; family, duty, and honor ran through yours, and due to that you feared that your actions would reflect poorly on your family. Arguably, that made you the 'good girl’ of the group, but even that did not seem right. It was well known that you had the worst temper out of the trio. Each moment it was as though you were one inch from letting go and saying every harsh thing on your mind, Helaena always said it had to do with the fact that you were a March Pisces, but since you did not know much about the zodiac signs, you did not know if this was true or not.

Feeling someone standing over you, your eyes reluctantly flew open to see Helaena smiling down at you. Her smile was so genuine that you wondered if you had missed something. Did you manage to doze off with no knowledge?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ Comfortable?❞ Hel questioned.

Just as you opened your mouth to answer the Targaryen, there was a knock at the front door.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ I got it,❞ Baela exclaimed unnecessarily loud making her way to the front door, while Helena offered you her hand.

Accepting her soft hand you stood and readjusted your black spandex shorts that kept creeping up your stomach to meet your red crop top.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ I can’t wait to sleep,❞ you admitted with a small yawn.

A small tsk came from the blonde girl. ❝ you’ll have plenty of time for sleep on the drive. Baela can handle making sure the movers put all of our stuff in the moving truck since we already packed a our essentials in the car for the drive.❞

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ And what are we going to do, hm? Hide in the car and sleep?❞ you questioned somewhat hopefully.

For a moment you noticed a trace of mischief swirling in the lilac hues that were watching you closely.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ No, I have a much better idea, just help me with the box of snacks❞ she promised.

Knowing that it was futile to argue, you followed the girl into the kitchen. Though the snack box was large, you knew that it was not a two-person carrying job.

With both of you holding one handle, the two of you made for the front door as Baela and four movers entered.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ Bae, can you help walk them through our stack of boxes, while Butterfly and I finish some last-minute things?❞ Helaena stated more than asked.

As if no was not an option the two of you made your way to the trunk of the black Escalade. Effortlessly, Helaena opened the passenger’s backseat door and you sat the box down on the floor of the car. Questionably, you watched the girl dig through her sports bag. You almost asked what she was looking for, but before you could voice your question the mischievous look was back before she showed you a joint rolled in her pink paper and a lighter in her hand. Now, you had a smile of your own tugging at your features.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ We are ending our life here just like we started.❞ Helaena commented as light as air.

Like the two of you did many times before you found yourselves sitting next to an old oak tree in the front yard. Your head rested against the bark of the tree as you watched the blonde light the joint between her lips. When it finally became light, the potent scent of the weed flooded your senses. When the girl passed it to you wordlessly, you graciously accepted and took a long puff. It wasn’t long before your senses grew dull and you felt yourself relax.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ My uncle and his family should be asleep by the time we reach their place, but Daeron will be awake since he is finishing packing. He said he will let us in so we don’t wake anyone, and that will give us enough time to shower before sleep. I’ll wake you and Baela in the morning and then we will officially start our road trip.❞

Though you heard this plan a thousand times, you simply nodded.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝Are you sure that your parent won’t mind you bringing me? Baela has been trying to get me to stay with her on Driftmark for the last couple of days. Or I could go back to Riverrun for a couple of weeks. Besides, I know their nerves must be shot with having the four of you home for the summer anyway.❞

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ Absolutely not,❞ Helaena began. Her voice was strong and laced with what you could only assume was offense at the notion, ❝ you hate Riverrun, first of all. Second of all, my parents adore you and I have been your best friend longer than Baela. She can suck my dick if she thinks you’d be staying on the island rather than with me. Besides, I don’t know what I’d do without you.❞

As if on cue you passed the joint over to the blonde after taking several puffs.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ Aren’t you sick of me yet,❞ you questioned playfully.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝Hell no, you’ve been my constant for six years now. I think you’ve seen me at my worst and my best more than my own family. Plus, what we do if we didn’t live with each other? FaceTime constantly?❞ She laughed lightly at the thought, ❝ we would be on the phone more than enjoying the moments as they came. This is better, trust me. Plus, now you’ll finally meet my siblings in the flesh.❞

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ And what will you do if they all hate me?❞ You asked a little more worried than you cared to admit.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ They’ll love you as much as I do. I just know it.❞ she promised.

The pair sat smoking until they had finished the joint and noticed the movers pulling out of the driver. The atmosphere was filled with silence other than the faintest sounds of summer night’s around them. Down the road, they could hear music coming from one of the frat houses and bugs buzzing around in the sky. Entering the house for the last time, you mentally said the final goodbye to your home and all the memories echoing around the walls. Your eyes burned from the smoke that you had been welcoming into your lungs, but what you handed expected was for your eyes to do was begin tearing up.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ Just like that, we’re starting all over. ❞ you murmured to Helaena who pulled you into a hug.

Feeling left out, you felt Baela’s arms wrap around the two of you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ C’mon you old ladies, we should head out.❞ Baela stated pulling you from the ghosts of the years prior.

Grabbing your three keys from the countertop, you follow the three of them from the home before flicking off the lights for the last time. Locking the door from behind you hand the keys to Baela, who tucks them under the rug as the landlord would be swinging by after dinner with his wife.

It felt like your schooling had ended in a blink of an eye. Sitting in the backseat, Helena sat in the front with Baela who drove. As the three of you abandoned the house your eyes locked on the house from the backseat until it was no longer insight.

Closing your eyes you sent a small prayer that this summer would be as memorable as your university years.

#aemond fic #aemond targaryen #aemond x fem!reader #hotd aemond #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x reader #aemond the one eye #hotd modern au #modern!aemond #house of the dragon #fire and blood #aemond targaryen x reader

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ronni-right · 2 years ago

Note

13 -“I love you Daemon.” -“I love me, too.” -“Can't you just tell me you fucking love me, for once?!—”

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing(s): Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen

Warning: Daemon and Rhaenyra are very very distant cousins, age difference is around 4-5 years, fluff, attempt in humor

Headcanon: Daemon and Rhaenyra are friends, they aren’t a couple, but they act like they are married.

Author’s note: English isn’t my native language.

Based on @dumplingsjinson prompts.

Word Count: 992

She probably shouldn't have drunk so much. But alas. Too late to think about it as she is already drunk.

Rhaenyra barely stands on her feet. And she is lucky to hang on Daemon, with her arms around his neck, her whole body pressed to his, while he opens the door to his apartment. He is all solid, and smells nice, and Rhaenyra presses even closer to him, giggling. Her mind is fuzzy, and she vaguely remembers everything that happened after the fifth Negroni. She remembers them, Laena and her, drinking and dancing, and then they drank and danced more. And then she remembers the leather interior of Daemon's Mercedes and Laena and her in the back seat, hugging and singing Miley Cyrus songs on top of their lungs, with Daemon looking at them disapprovingly through the rearview mirror.

Well, it was Daemon's turn to pick them up from the club after all.

“You are so lucky that you all live in the same building.” Rhaenyra drawls. “You can visit Laena and Harwin at any time! Or they may come to you. And you can have fun, and it always feels like eternity to get to your place. Am I always missing a party? Did you have private parties, just the three of you, where I'm not invited?” She rumbles, while Daemon helps her inside the flat and closes the door behind them.

He isn’t irritated by her rambling, but he looks tired, with circles under his eyes.

“It’s just ten minutes for you to get there.” He helps her to sit on the soft ottoman and he starts to undo the straps on her high heels. “We don’t have private parties where you aren’t invited.”

Rhaenyra hums, caressing his hair. His hair looks soft. And they are indeed soft. And she knows he has his own hair care routine and ten bottles of hair products. As well as he has his own skin care routine. She runs a finger along his cheek, then presses lightly on his nose with her index finger, making a "beep" sound, giggles, and then says thoughtfully:

“If it takes 10 minutes to get home from there, why am I there?”

And really why is she here, if the drive to her flat is only ten minutes longer. Is it because she's drunk and he's afraid to leave her alone? It's nice of him.

“Because you told me you don’t want to go home and want to stay with me tonight.” Daemon tells her with a sigh and he finally pulls off her high heels and then helps her to her feet.

“Ah, well.” For some reason she is upset by this. And she can't even understand what upset her. Rhaenyra tries to figure out what's wrong as Daemon leads her somewhere, holding her hand. But they really don’t go that far, because she notices two cats sleeping in the cat's tree house. They are so cute that she can't hide her reaction, exclaiming: “Cute kitties!”

And she purposefully goes to them. They look so sweet and she wants to cuddle with them right now. Her gait isn’t so confident, as she sways slightly, with the world spinning around her. And she bumps into the armchair on her way to the cats. Rhaenyra almost almost falls to the floor, but she doesn’t fall as Damon grabs her elbow and keeps her from further movements into the cats’ direction. And her name sounds menacing from his lips when he says:

“Rhaenyra.”

“What?” She pouts. “I want to touch them, they are so cute and fluffy!” She makes grabby hands at them.

“And they are a menace if you wake them up. You will pet them in the morning, sweetheart.” And with that Daemon lifts her up, bridal style, like she weighs nothing.

She can say that she can get to the destination without his help. But instead, she wraps her arms around his neck. What can she say? She likes this display of strength. He can carry her whenever he wants.

Every day.

Every week.

Every month.

Eternity.

She won’t mind.

She won’t mind a lot of things he can do to her that she has in mind.

Too bad that they find themselves in the guest bedroom quickly. And Daemon gently lowers her onto the bed. But she doesn’t let him go, whispering:

“You are such a daddy material.”

He appears to be stunted by that, his eyes are comically big and he gulps like it makes him nervous:

“What?”

“You are such a daddy material!” Rhaenyra says louder this time, giggling, because she never saw this kind of expression on his face: a little bit lost, like he doesn’t understand what she is fucking talking about. He is still leaning over her, because she doesn’t let him go still.

“What do you mean by that?” And Daemon sounds way too serious.

“You always take such good care of me, Daemon.” She purrs and then whispers: “I love you.”

Not that it’s a serious confession. She tells him she loves him, as a friend, from time to time but all she gets always is his i know. Like he doesn’t fucking care. And of course he doesn’t take it seriously this time too as he says, smirking:

“I love me, too.” Oh, that’s something different.

“Can you just tell me you love me for fucking once!?” She is suddenly angry, and she slaps him on the shoulders and pushes him away from her, wrapping herself in a blanket and wiggling underneath to take off her dress and throw it in his face. He catches it easily.

“We will talk about it when you ain’t drunk.” All Daemon says, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. And he leaves quickly. So the pillow she throws at him doesn't reach him at all.

Maybe he isn’t her bestie anymore.

And no, she doesn’t sob into the pillow.

#daemyra #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra × daemon #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #matt smith #milly alcock #hotd #house of the dragon #house of targaryen

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just-some-random-blogger · 4 months ago

Text

YN:

“THERE IS a dragon at our gates.” [...] You would rather not face your husband. Not today. Not ever, if you are being truthful with yourself.

Lock him out queen. Make him beg to-... Oh nvm he has a dragon......... 😭😭😭 I'm so sorry

You have gained weight. The slim figure that you flaunted at sixteen is long gone. There is more weight in your hips and chest, a bit of softness around your middle. You know he will mock you for it.

SHES PREGNANT?? 😭😭😭😭😭 NOW that I'm rereading this I don't think she is maybe stress eating. Or maybe that's what you WANT ME TO THINK!!!🫵🫵🫵 nah but then again later on the fic says they banged once so your honor it's just adulthood

Not after he had left your shared home and started living in sin with her, shaming you in front of the whole realm.

This man is not your husband. This man is not even one of Rhaenyra’s men.

THE WAY I GASPED I WAS LIKE WHOOO JACAERYS WHOO WHOO

“Prince… Aemond.”

It's aemond 😛😛😛😛😛😛😛😛 OF COURSE ITS AEMOND YOU DUMB FUCK YOU READ THE TAGS HEY DADDY 🥰🥰🥰🥰 HOW YOU DOIN N N

“My husband is not here.” You say, hurriedly. It’s your first instinct. You do not want that dragon of his torching your tenants.“You are welcome to check the castle and my lands, but there is no love lost between us. I assure you I am not hiding him.”

I love her. 🥺 Idk she seems so pragmatic or whatever that means HAHAHHAHAH. I love how quickly she dropped daemon too DASURV

“It is not our place to judge.” You say, voice firm. This man is at least ten years your junior, you will not allow him to intimidate you. [...] “Only the Seven are perfect, and thus, entitled to judge others' actions.”

Me. I ain't letting no younger person intimidate me. ALSO THE MOMMY KINK IS MOMMY KINKING AEMOND HEARD THE FIRST PART AND SAID SAY LESS LETS BANG

“Very devout.” Aemond steps closer to you, his smile widening. The way his face contorts, sharp and with too many teeth, reminds you of one of the piscivorous fishes you have seen swimming up the stream during summer. The look in their eyes is the same he sports now, right before they decide to feast on an unaware trout. “Just like us. Seems like we have a lot in common.”

🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵SEE SEE. ALSO WHY IS HE SMILING WITH HIS TEETH I DONT THINK. AEMONDS EVER DONE THAT GET BACK 🤺🤺🤺🤺 BACK DEMON 🤽‍♀️🤽‍♀️🤽‍♀️🤽‍♀️ BACK I SAY

“We do. I don’t like your husband either. [...]

Then why do you have a big ass poster of him in your room?🤨

If you were a quieter woman, a less brave one, you would accept your fate. You would say your marriage had been unconsummated, [...]

I was gonna say how she gone do that while pregnant but nvm lol

“Perhaps we can make a widow out of you yet.” Aemond says to you, a hint of a smile making his expression turn even more menacing.

HES SO FUNNY I WANT HIM

YOU ARE on your side, Aemond thrusting into you from behind. His hand envelops your hip, greedily grasping your flesh. His other arm is under your head, serving as a pillow. For once, you are not self-conscious.

🧍‍♀️

Aemond had to convince you to get you here, and you had fumbled like a maiden every step of the way. You didn’t dare defy Daemon either. Despite your loneliness over the years, you had never taken another to your bed. No matter how tempted you had been.

DAMN GIRL GOOD FOR YOU FUCK HIM SILLY

“Did he fuck you like this?” He mouths at your ear, lightly biting. No matter how much you want to banish the thought of Daemon from your mind, Aemond doesn’t let you. It makes you feel guilty, breaking your self-imposed celibacy with your nephew in law, but he seems to get a secret thrill from it.

Holy fuck the daemon obsession goes crazy. I FEEL BAD FOR HER BECAUSE HE CLEARLY DOESNT WANT HER BECAUSE HE WANTS HER FUCKK

Aemond bites at your nape, sharply. Just like his uncle, he doesn’t take kindly to not being the center of attention.

THE POISON DRIPS OR WHATEVER THE FUCK

“I'll give you one.” He promises, rubbing your pearl. His thrusting slows down, allowing the head of his member to hit deep inside you. “In my bed, you won't want for anything.”

🫦🫦🫦🫦 but just one though 🙄✋BAABAHAHAHHSISWKKEK

Never before had you felt like this. In your encounter with your husband, as he huffed and puffed over you, you had only felt a quick pain and a vague feeling of shame. He had focused on his pleasure first, kicking you out of bed as soon as he was done.

LOVE THAT FOR YOU BESTIE GET THAT ORGASMS YOU WERE NEVER GIVEN

“I’ll worship you how you deserve, Muña.”

........ IS MUÑA MOM STOOOOPP NSJENSNSJSJJW

“I'll wed you, and place my son on your belly.” He grins against your nape, contemplating his final triumph against Daemon. “My seed will take, where his never could. He is weak.”

BREEDING KINK GO BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR STOPPP DAEMON HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS YET EVERYTHING TO DO WITH THIS ⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️ HES NOT EVEN THERE AND YET HES EVERYWHERE GUYS HES TOO REGINA GEORGE WHY ARE YOU SO OBSESSED WITH HIM

“That’s a good aunt. Squeeze your tight little cunt for me.” He grins, and you think this is it. The two of you are going to the Seven Hells.

You mean seven heavens surely

Muña (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: At the start of the Dance of the Dragons, you host a familiar face. But it is not your husband who darkens your doorstep. It is his nephew.

Warnings: Daemon haunting the narrative. Smut. Body image issues, self-esteem issues. Tully! Reader (Reddish undertone hair) Implied mommy issues. Vaginal sex. Breeding kink

A/N: I got no explanation for this. Might end up writing a part 2 if this does well.

“THERE IS a dragon at our gates.” One of your guards announces. You get up from your seat, a wave of nausea already beginning to make herself known. You would rather not face your husband. Not today. Not ever, if you are being truthful with yourself.

You have gained weight. The slim figure that you flaunted at sixteen is long gone. There is more weight in your hips and chest, a bit of softness around your middle. You know he will mock you for it.

“Open them.” You order, bracing yourself for the uncomfortable encounter. You can’t bar him entrance to what is his home too, despite him not visiting in years. “Tell him to leave the dragon there. I’ll send it some food.”

The guard bows and exits the room. One of your companions, Lady Whent, starts to pace the hall. She fears what your husband coming here might mean for you. The rumors said he had loudly proclaimed he would deal with you himself.

Your choice to keep the Riverlands out of the war effort is controversial, but predictable. Surely, no one in their right mind thought you would aid your husband install his Queen. Not even him. Not after he had left your shared home and started living in sin with her, shaming you in front of the whole realm. Yet again, no one would have called Daemon Targaryen the epitome of saneness.

You go sit on your throne, placing your embroidery aside. Your tenants are happy enough that you don’t hold court as often as the other lords. And when they are not, they still refuse to bring their problems to you unless absolutely necessary. No one wants to burden their poor lady more.

You wish they did. The days would seem less empty that way, rotting away in this castle, your house’s sigil mocking you from every corner. Family, Duty, Honor, they had promised you. None had come.

The guard comes back. You remain sitting on your throne, the one you hardly use. You intend to receive your husband from a position of power, not allow him to cower you. But when you look at the man next to the guard, your breath catches.

This man is not your husband. This man is not even one of Rhaenyra’s men.

“Lady Tully.” He says, taking a deep bow. Very respectful, which would make you doubt his relation to your husband were it not for the fact he shares his silver hair.

“Prince… Aemond.” You say, looking at his face. It’s your best guess as to his identity, considering he has a green banner and an eye patch. He wears all black, the color of House Targaryen. You stand up, and curtsy.

“My lady.”

“I know.” He answers, lips twitching into a smirk. You find nothing humorous about it, but you do not dare voice it. You do not understand what he is doing here, if not chasing after Daemon. “I understand your people… Resent him.”

“It is not our place to judge.” You say, voice firm. This man is at least ten years your junior, you will not allow him to intimidate you. No matter how he towers over you, no matter how menacing and mean his features seem. He is no Daemon Targaryen, this green boy. Your husband is the only man you had truly feared. “Only the Seven are perfect, and thus, entitled to judge others' actions.”

You gulp. You wish you were less easy to intimidate.

“We do?”

“We do. I don’t like your husband either. The tales of his prowess have been overly exaggerated. And I do not think you are too keen on bowing to Rhaenyra, considering your marriage will be annulled.” A pair of his fingers pluck a stray curl from your up do, twirling it between his fingers. The slightly copperish undertones of it glint under the candlelight.

The threat looms in the air, uncontested by you. Both Prince Aemond and you know that Queen Rhaenyra would be dissolving your marriage as you speak, were it not for the fact that your husband and her need your lands and men for her war. Annulment in exchange for your life would be a much less cruel punishment than whatever they are cooking.

If you were a quieter woman, a less brave one, you would accept your fate. You would say your marriage had been unconsummated, that you will aid your new sovereign and your ex-husband in their war. But you won’t leave your people to their tender care. With the privileged position your lands have, they are also in the privileged position to be amongst the first to burn.

You are not so craven as to save your life in exchange for the ones of your subjects. Hence, neutrality. Hoping it will spare you. All of you.

“Do you think I want to still be married to him? After all this?” It is not enough, you see it now. With the green banner inside your hall, with the one eyed prince himself sent to rally you behind their cause. Neutrality won’t save you. You need to resist Daemon, not just sit praying he won’t attack you. The Seven know he has no such qualms.

“Perhaps we can make a widow out of you yet.” Aemond says to you, a hint of a smile making his expression turn even more menacing.

Tasting freedom on the tip of your tongue for the first time in years, you smile back.

How could you be, when he had practically begged for entrance to your bed? He wanted you, and the thought of that was as thrilling as it was foreign. You hadn't broken your marriage vows ever since you took them. No man had dared voice interest, considering who your husband was.

When you had seen Aemond, you weren’t planning to, either. He was your good nephew, Daemon’s family. It was utterly scandalous, yet here you were.

You weren’t too sure how you had ended up into this predicament, though. One second the two of you had been making plans, your Lord Commander eager to be at his service, and the next, Aemond was crowding you against a wall and kissing you with unparalleled hunger. Your doubts had been quieted by his warm hands and eager mouth, as he forced you to writhe on his arms and try to divest him of his clothes. Perhaps he had carried you to your room then. You can’t remember, you just hope no one saw you.

You don’t have the heart to tell him Daemon and you have only gone to bed together once. The night of your wedding.

You stay silent. His hand slides over your stomach, down to your mound. A single, long finger, slips through your folds and starts to rub circles on your pearl.

“Did my uncle ever make you peak?” Aemond asks you, still rubbing those maddening circles. You can’t think. All that is on your mind is a cloud of pleasure, warm and shameful. You shouldn’t be in bed with Daemon’s nephew. Nor should you be breaking your vows.

Aemond bites at your nape, sharply. Just like his uncle, he doesn’t take kindly to not being the center of attention.

“I asked you a question.”

“No.” You tell him, closing your eyes. Your face burns with your shame. Perhaps it is the embarrassment at your husband hating your bed so much he never visited It any longer, or perhaps it is the fact that you are breaking a vow you had really believed in. But Aemond doesn’t seem to like it, pressing soft kisses into your shoulder in an attempt to relax you.

“I'll give you one.” He promises, rubbing your pearl. His thrusting slows down, allowing the head of his member to hit deep inside you. “In my bed, you won't want for anything.”

The way he says it startles you. Dark, possessive. As if he doesn’t intend to let you go after one night, as if he intends to keep you.

“I don't belong in your bed.” You moan, trying to resist the pleasure that seems so sinful in your eyes. You clench around him despite it, not wanting him to leave your body. His free hand, the one serving as your pillow, grabs at your hair, the auburn mane as a bracelet in his pale arm. The pain of the tug only heightens your pleasure, making your body soar above the wave that threatens to crash and drag you under on the pools of hedonism.

But Aemond. Aemond stares at you, proud of how you unravel in his arms. He encourages you to do it, taking great delight in watching you fall apart.

“You do. With your gorgeous hair and your delicious cunt, I won't allow you to go elsewhere. You are a gift from the Mother herself.” He whispers, darkly. “I’ll worship you how you deserve, Muña.”

The last word seems to amuse him greatly, for it prompts a chuckle out of him. It’s an odd sound to hear coming from him. He seemed the kind who took himself too seriously. He licks at the shell of your ear, at your face, slobbering all over you.

It should disgust you, yet you can’t help but sigh in his arms. Surrender tastes cloyingly sweet in your mouth.

“I… Married.” You repeat, trying to get Aemond to see reason. You claw at his hands, trying to stop him from bringing you this overwhelming ecstasy that makes your body tense, and your thighs quiver. Your mind feels foggy, your wit reduced to half whimpers and softly spoken words.

“I'll wed you, and place my son on your belly.” He grins against your nape, contemplating his final triumph against Daemon. “My seed will take, where his never could. He is weak.”

“I am already married.” You repeat, a bit more firmly. Aemond laughs, rubbing at your pearl once more.

“Shhh, quiet. Quiet, Muña.” He whispers, pulling you to lie under him. He enters you in a single thrust, not giving you a moment of respite. You cry out, nails raking down his back. “I'll kill him. He is just an old man.”

You mutter something. Maybe a reply. Your lips move, incoherent, and you are screaming, the wave of pleasure finally crashing and pulling you under.

“That’s a good aunt. Squeeze your tight little cunt for me.” He grins, and you think this is it. The two of you are going to the Seven Hells.

#GIRL I LOVE THIS SO MUCH MY BRAIN IS ON FIREEEE #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #daemon fanfic

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this-week-in-rust · 3 months ago

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This Week in Rust 559

Hello and welcome to another issue of This Week in Rust! Rust is a programming language empowering everyone to build reliable and efficient software. This is a weekly summary of its progress and community. Want something mentioned? Tag us at @ThisWeekInRust on X (formerly Twitter) or @ThisWeekinRust on mastodon.social, or send us a pull request. Want to get involved? We love contributions.

This Week in Rust is openly developed on GitHub and archives can be viewed at this-week-in-rust.org. If you find any errors in this week's issue, please submit a PR.

Want TWIR in your inbox? Subscribe here.

Updates from Rust Community

Newsletters

thisweekinbevy - 0.14.1, tracking change detection, and more rendering examples

Project/Tooling Updates

Tauri 2.0 Release Candidate

CGlue 0.3 Future and Beyond

ratatui - v0.28.0

Pigg 0.3.3 the GUI for RPi GPIO interaction released, with Remote GPIO feature!

Announcing SeaORM 1.0

Danube - Queuing and Pub/Sub message patterns

Observations/Thoughts

Trying and mostly failing to optimize frustum culling in a WebGL + TS + Rust engine

Panic! At The Async Runtime Shutdown

Debugging a rustc segfault on illumos

Tracing my way with tracing-rs

[Series] The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Building a Distributed Filesystem in Rust.

Best Rust books for 2024

Phantom Menace: memory leak that wasn't there

Developing a cryptographically secure bootloader for RISC-V in Rust

Extending the #[diagnostic] tool attribute namespace

Rust Walkthroughs

Tracing Tokio Resources

[Series] Mastering Dependency Injection in Rust: Crafting a Custom Container

Research

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Building a Distributed Filesystem in Rust.

Miscellaneous

Rustic: Enhanced Org Babel integration

Efficient Logging - Speeding up production code by logging more efficiently

Crate of the Week

This week's crate is WhenFS, a FUSE filesystem that misuses your google calendar as storage. And yes, your schedule will look as packed as mine once you store one or two files in there.

Despite yet another week fully devoid of suggestions nor votes, llogiq is reasonably pleased with his choice.

Please submit your suggestions and votes for next week!

Calls for Testing

An important step for RFC implementation is for people to experiment with the implementation and give feedback, especially before stabilization. The following RFCs would benefit from user testing before moving forward:

RFCs

No calls for testing were issued this week.

Rust

No calls for testing were issued this week.

Rustup

No calls for testing were issued this week.

If you are a feature implementer and would like your RFC to appear on the above list, add the new call-for-testing label to your RFC along with a comment providing testing instructions and/or guidance on which aspect(s) of the feature need testing.

Call for Participation; projects and speakers

CFP - Projects

Always wanted to contribute to open-source projects but did not know where to start? Every week we highlight some tasks from the Rust community for you to pick and get started!

Some of these tasks may also have mentors available, visit the task page for more information.

rencfs - Abstract file access layer

rencfs - Add RustCrypto as a feature

rencfs - File and fs API

rencfs - io API

rfs - Coordinator node API)

rfs - Data node API

rfs - File upload and changes

rfs - Communication between Coordinator and Data nodes

syncoxiders - Two-way sync

syncoxiders - Sync chunks in parallel

syncoxiders - Integrate SurrealDB to store metadata

syncoxiders - Migrate scripts tests to integration tests

rencfs-desktop - Implement daemon

Proposal: Deprecate Tokio's LocalSet

If you are a Rust project owner and are looking for contributors, please submit tasks here or through a PR to TWiR or by reaching out on X (Formerly twitter) or Mastodon!

CFP - Events

Are you a new or experienced speaker looking for a place to share something cool? This section highlights events that are being planned and are accepting submissions to join their event as a speaker.

No Calls for papers or presentations were submitted this week.

If you are an event organizer hoping to expand the reach of your event, please submit a link to the website through a PR to TWiR or by reaching out on X (formerly Twitter) or Mastodon!

Updates from the Rust Project

381 pull requests were merged in the last week

fix vita build of std and forbid unsafe in unsafe in the os/vita module

derive(SmartPointer): require pointee to be maybe sized

add #[must_use] to some into_raw* functions

add REDUNDANT_IMPORTS lint for new redundant import detection

add f16 and f128 math functions

allow overwriting the output of rustc --version

allow setting link-shared and static-libstdcpp with CI LLVM

android: remove libstd hacks for unsupported Android APIs

assert that all attributes are actually checked via CheckAttrVisitor and aren't accidentally usable on completely unrelated HIR nodes

better handle suggestions for the already present code and fix some suggestions

built-in derive: remove BYTE_SLICE_IN_PACKED_STRUCT_WITH_DERIVE hack and lint

cleanup sys module to match house style

create COFF archives for non-LLVM backends

custom MIR: add support for tail calls

delegation: second attempt to improve perf

delegation: support generics for delegation from free functions

detect non-lifetime binder params shadowing item params

do not fire unhandled attribute assertion on multi-segment AttributeType::Normal attributes with builtin attribute as first segment

don't re-elaborate already elaborated caller bounds in method probe

elaborate unknowable goals

emit an error if #[optimize] is applied to an incompatible item

enforce supertrait outlives obligations hold when confirming impl

fix removed box_syntax diagnostic if source isn't available

fix the invalid argument type

ignore use declaration reformatting in .git-blame-ignore-revs

implement UncheckedIterator directly for RepeatN

improve error message when global_asm! uses asm! operands

interpret: on a signed deref check, mention the right pointer in the error

make /// doc comments compatible with naked functions

mark Parser::eat/check methods as #[must_use]

match LLVM ABI in extern "C" functions for f128 on Windows

match lowering: Hide Candidate from outside the lowering algorithm

more unsafe attr verification

normalize when equating dyn tails in MIR borrowck

on short error format, append primary span label to message

peel off explicit (or implicit) deref before suggesting clone on move error in borrowck, remove some hacks

properly mark loop as diverging if it has no breaks

remove crate_level_only from ELIDED_LIFETIMES_IN_PATHS

revert recent changes to dead code analysis

set branch protection function attributes

simplify match based on the cast result of IntToInt

structured suggestion for extern crate foo when foo isn't resolved in import

temporarily switch ambiguous_negative_literals lint to allow

the output in stderr expects panic-unwind

turn invalid_type_param_default into a FutureReleaseErrorReportInDeps

tweak type inference for const operands in inline asm

use object in run-make/symbols-visibility

use a separate pattern type for rustc_pattern_analysis diagnostics

miri: add a flag to do recursive validity checking

miri: add miri_start support

miri: use Scalar consistently in foreign item emulation

linker: pass fewer search directories to the linker

use Vec in instantiate_binder_with_fresh_vars

change output normalization logic to be linear against size of output

check divergence value first before doing span operations in warn_if_unreachable

accelerate GVN a little

stabilize Wasm relaxed SIMD

stabilize unsafe extern blocks (RFC 3484)

enable std::io::copy specialisation for std::pipe::{PipeReader, PipeWriter}

rewrite binary search implementation

implement cursors for BTreeSet

implement the once_wait feature

configure which platforms have f16 and f128 enabled by default

hashbrown: implement Default for iterators

regex: rust nightly removed the lifetime from Pattern

cargo-miri: better error when we seem to run inside bootstrap but something is wrong

cargo: build-std: remove hack on creating virtual std workspace

cargo: config: Adjust MSRV resolve config field name / values

cargo: publish: Don't strip non-dev features

cargo: also build manpage for cargo.md

rustdoc-json: discard non-local inherent impls for primitives

rustdoc: cleanup CacheBuilder code for building search index

rustdoc: fix handling of Self type in search index and refactor its representation

rustdoc: make the hover trail for doc anchors a bit bigger

rustdoc: Make the buttons remain when code example is clicked

rustdoc: simplify body usage

rustfmt: add repo cloning to check-diff crate

rustfmt: check exit status of git commands spawned by build script

rustfmt: impl rewrite_result for Pat, TuplePatField

clippy: check exit status of subcommands spawned by rustc_tools_util

clippy: fix redundant_closure false positive with closures has return type contains 'static

clippy: fix redundant_slicing when the slice is behind a mutable reference

clippy: fix broken list for lints config

clippy: fix false positive for missing_backticks in footnote references

clippy: limit number of nonminimal_bool ops

clippy: lintcheck: force warn all lints

clippy: make restriction lints use span_lint_and_then (a → e)

clippy: make restriction lints use span_lint_and_then (q → w)

clippy: remove multispan_sugg[_with_applicability]

clippy: remove duplicated peel_middle_ty_refs

clippy: simplify lint deprecation

clippy: use a deterministic number of digits in rustc_tools_util commit hashes

clippy: use a single multipart suggestion for implicit_hasher

rust-analyzer: implement diagnostic for await outside of async

rust-analyzer: load sysroot library via cargo metadata

rust-analyzer: support inlay hint for more expr with label

rust-analyzer: apply IndexMut obligations for non-assigning mutable index usages

rust-analyzer: errors on method call inferences with elided lifetimes

rust-analyzer: insert a generic arg for impl Trait when lowering generic args

rust-analyzer: insert a tail Ok(()) for expr block instead of wrapping with Ok

rust-analyzer: panic in path transform with default type parameters

rust-analyzer: remove AbsPath requirement from linkedProjects

rust-analyzer: surpress type mismatches in calls with mismatched arg counts

rust-analyzer: improve crate manifests, adding missing [package.repository] and [package.description] fields

rust-analyzer: segregate syntax and semantic diagnostics

rust-analyzer: split out syntax-bridge into a separate crate

rust-analyzer: when josh-proxy screws up the roundtrip, say what the involved commits are

Rust Compiler Performance Triage

This week saw several large improvements caused mostly by the update to LLVM 19. There were some regressions in several pull requests, but most of them were immediately fixed in a follow-up PR.

Triage done by @kobzol. Revision range: 7e3a9718..8c7e0e16

Summary:

(instructions:u) mean range count Regressions ❌ (primary) 1.0% [0.2%, 3.8%] 91 Regressions ❌ (secondary) 1.9% [0.2%, 19.2%] 104 Improvements ✅ (primary) -4.4% [-15.8%, -0.3%] 120 Improvements ✅ (secondary) -3.3% [-10.4%, -0.2%] 70 All ❌✅ (primary) -2.1% [-15.8%, 3.8%] 211

6 Regressions, 3 Improvements, 5 Mixed; 4 of them in rollups 51 artifact comparisons made in total

Full report here

Approved RFCs

Changes to Rust follow the Rust RFC (request for comments) process. These are the RFCs that were approved for implementation this week:

Merge RFC 3529: Add named path bases to cargo

Merge RFC 3668: Async closures

Promote aarch64-apple-darwin to Tier 1

RFC for project goals

Final Comment Period

Every week, the team announces the 'final comment period' for RFCs and key PRs which are reaching a decision. Express your opinions now.

RFCs

No RFCs entered Final Comment Period this week.

Tracking Issues & PRs

Rust

[disposition: merge] Stabilize raw_ref_op (RFC 2582)

[disposition: merge] Tracking Issue for Ready::into_inner()

[disposition: merge] Tracking issue for thread::Builder::spawn_unchecked

[disposition: merge] Tracking Issue for is_none_or

[disposition: merge] CloneToUninit impls

[disposition: close] Tracking issue for HashMap OccupiedEntry::{replace_key, replace_entry}

[disposition: close] Tracking issue for HashMap::raw_entry

[disposition: merge] Implement DoubleEnded and ExactSize for Take\<Repeat> and Take\<RepeatWith>

[disposition: merge] Implement owned ops for HashSet and BTreeSet

[disposition: merge] Tracking Issue for Option::get_or_insert_default

[disposition: merge] Unify run button display with "copy code" button and with mdbook buttons

[disposition: merge] Greatly speed up doctests by compiling compatible doctests in one file

Cargo

No Cargo Tracking Issues or PRs entered Final Comment Period this week.

Language Team

No Language Team Tracking Issues or PRs entered Final Comment Period this week.

Language Reference

[disposition: \] Reformat (and only reformat) the inline assembly chapter

Unsafe Code Guidelines

No Unsafe Code Guideline Tracking Issues or PRs entered Final Comment Period this week.

New and Updated RFCs

[new] crates.io: Remove dev-dependencies from the index

Upcoming Events

Rusty Events between 2024-08-07 - 2024-09-04 🦀

Virtual

2024-08-07 | Virtual (Indianapolis, IN, US) | Indy Rust

Indy.rs - with Social Distancing

2024-08-08 | Virtual (Charlottesville, NC, US) | Charlottesville Rust Meetup

Crafting Interpreters in Rust Collaboratively

2024-08-08 | Virtual (Nürnberg, DE) | Rust Nuremberg

Rust Nürnberg online

2024-08-08 | Virtual (Tel Aviv, IL) | Code Mavens

Rust Source Code Reading: The thousands crate (English)

2024-08-13 | Virtual (Dallas, TX, US) | Dallas Rust

Second Tuesday: Typestate Pattern in Rust

2024-08-15 | Virtual (Berlin, DE) | OpenTechSchool Berlin + Rust Berlin

Rust Hack and Learn | Mirror: Rust Hack n Learn Meetup

2024-08-20 | Virtual (Washington, DC, US) | Rust DC

Mid-month Rustful

2024-08-21 | Hybrid - Virtual and In-Person (Vancouver, BC, CA) | Vancouver Rust

Rust Study/Hack/Hang-out

2024-08-22 | Virtual | Conf42: Online Tech Events

Conf42 Rustlang 2024

2024-08-22 | Virtual (Charlottesville, NC, US) | Charlottesville Rust Meetup

Crafting Interpreters in Rust Collaboratively

2024-08-22 | Virtual (Karlsruhe, DE) | Karlsruhe Functional Programmers Group

Stammtisch (gemeinsam mit der C++ UG KA): various topics, from C++ to Rust

2024-08-27 | Virtual | Ardan Labs

Fearless Concurrency with Rust

2024-08-27 | Virtual (Bordeaux, FR) | Rust Bordeaux

Live coding - A distance #1

2024-08-27 | Virtual (Dallas, TX, US) | Dallas Rust

Last Tuesday

2024-08-27 | Virtual (Tel Aviv, IL) | Code Mavens

Declarative macros in Rust (Virtual) - מקרוים בראסט

2024-08-28 | Virtual (Tel Aviv, IL) | Code Mavens

Command Line Tools: Implementing wc in Rust (English, Virtual)

2024-08-29 | Virtual (Berlin, DE) | OpenTechSchool Berlin + Rust Berlin

Rust Hack and Learn | Mirror: Rust Hack n Learn Meetup

2024-09-03 | Virtual (Buffalo, NY, US) | Buffalo Rust Meetup

Buffalo Rust User Group

2024-09-04 | Virtual (Indianapolis, IN, US) | Indy Rust

Indy.rs - with Social Distancing

Europe

2024-08-14 | Köln/Cologne, DE | Rust Cologne

This Month in Rust, August

2024-08-14 | Reading, UK | Reading Rust Workshop

Reading Rust Meetup

2024-08-20 | Aarhus, DK | Rust Aarhus

Hack Night

2024-08-21 | Nürnberg, DE | Rust Nuremberg

Walk'n'Talk around Wöhrder See (+ Burritos)

2024-08-22 | Manchester, UK | Rust Manchester

Rust Manchester Talks August

2024-08-26 | Mainz, DE | Fachschaft Mathematik+Informatik der JGU Mainz

Ferienkurs Rust

2024-08-29 | Berlin, DE | OpenTechSchool Berlin + Rust Berlin

Rust and Tell - Title

North America

2024-08-08 | Mountain View, CA, US | Mountain View Rust Meetup

Rust Meetup at Hacker Dojo

2024-08-08 | Seattle, WA, US | Seattle Rust User Group

August Meetup

2024-08-19 | Minneapolis, MN US | Minneapolis Rust Meetup

Minneapolis Rust Meetup: "State of Rust GPU Programming" & Happy Hour

2024-08-20 | New York, NY, US | Rust NYC

Rust NYC: Doing the Bare Minimum with Isograph (talk)

2024-08-20 | San Francisco, CA, US | San Francisco Rust Study Group

Rust Hacking in Person

2024-08-21 | Virtual and In-Person (Vancouver, BC, CA) | Vancouver Rust

Rust Study/Hack/Hang-out

2024-08-28 | Austin, TX, US | Rust ATC

Rust Lunch - Fareground

2024-08-29 | Nashville, TN, US | Music City Rust Developers

Music City Rust Developers : placeholder

Oceania

2024-08-22 | Auckland, NZ | Rust AKL

Rust AKL: Dot IX: Diagram Generator + Deep Learning from Scratch in Rust

2024-08-27 | Canberra, ACT, AU | Canberra Rust User Group (CRUG)

June Meetup

If you are running a Rust event please add it to the calendar to get it mentioned here. Please remember to add a link to the event too. Email the Rust Community Team for access.

Jobs

Please see the latest Who's Hiring thread on r/rust

Quote of the Week

Want to have a crate with a million features? Host your own registry and revel in the combinatorial explosion of choices!

– Jake Goulding on rust-users

Thanks to Jonas Fassbender for the suggestion!

Please submit quotes and vote for next week!

This Week in Rust is edited by: nellshamrell, llogiq, cdmistman, ericseppanen, extrawurst, andrewpollack, U007D, kolharsam, joelmarcey, mariannegoldin, bennyvasquez.

Email list hosting is sponsored by The Rust Foundation

Discuss on r/rust

#rust-lang #rust #rustlang #twir #long post

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