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damn-stark · 26 days ago

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Chapter 27 The field of stars

Chapter 27 of Moonlight

A/N- And when I say she’s depressed would you believe it?

Warning- talks of pregnancy, angst, FLUFF, fluff, and more fluff, and SPOILERS!! FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode/Pages- 491-515

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

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You’re still in that lake. Even if you’re miles away, you’re still there in the cold water in search of Aemond.

He hurt you, he betrayed you, he killed your family, he indulged the darkest parts of you, and he didn’t listen, but you’re still there, searching, hoping that by some miracle he survived that blow to the head and is coming to meet you when the reality is that you need to let him sink in the depths of those shallow waters.

“May I come in?”

Cregan.

You get up from your seat to give your back to the entrance and draw in a deep shaky breath whilst you wipe the tears off your cheeks and rub your nose before you exhale, and invite him in.

“Yes, come in.”

The flap opens and his heavy footsteps find themselves inside before they stop and the flaps close behind him.

“Are you okay?” He asks as he takes in the sight of your back to the entrance.

You nod softly and rub your nose with the back of your hand before you turn and face him, feigning a smile. “I’m just…letting these twins get their kicking in. They’re pretty restless right now.”

Cregan meets your gaze right away before you avert it and manages to catch the redness in your eyes left behind by tears, which means you were crying. Again. It was the third? Time he’s caught you crying. About what? He has an idea, but his jealousy of a dead man doesn’t let him accept it.

“Maybe it’s all that gold aligning your gown,” he says with a teasing tone and a smile to accompany his rather serious face. “It’s weighing them down even more.”

“Pft,” you scoff and flash him a second of a smile which isn’t much, but he managed to get something out of you and he’s proud of that.

“Unless they want to meet in the afterlife then they need to get used to it,” you quip and he walks in with his head hanging low as he speaks softly but with every word laced with frustration.

“It hardly protects you.”

And there it is, what he’s been holding back.

“It protects me enough,” you rebuttal and walk back to sit on the cot, catching him shaking his head stiffly and tapping the wooden post with his knuckles as he shares a frustrated chuckle.

“But that’s not enough for you is it?” You point out as you watch him make his way to you.

“If I could I would throw you in a carriage and send you to your mother,” he retorts and snaps his heavy gaze on you. “But alas your dragon would eat me alive.”

You flash him a smug smile and quip. “I’m not my brother, I would use my dragon to intimidate you.”

Cregan holds your eyes with that heavy intensity that doesn’t move you, not now. He notices that so he eases and sits down beside you without furthering the argument. Instead, he chooses to slide his hand over yours to gently cup it.

Now rather than matching his fire, you feel the need to cry as you feel his comfort and don’t feel his frustration radiating off him. However, even if tears prick in the corner of your eyes, you hold yourself back by inhaling sharply and instead focusing on another matter.

“They really are kicking,” your voice quivers no matter your efforts. “Feel,” you say and pull your hand out from under his to cup it and lift it off the bed to press it against your side.

“That’s Daenerys,” you let him know. “She’s smaller than her sister and has developed a little bit behind her, but she’s still feisty,” you share with a growing excitement. “You feel her?”

Cregan focuses on the little flutters and a smile flashes on his face as he feels who you’re talking about kicking like she has somewhere to be.

“Yes,” he says breathlessly. “Yes, I do.”

You beam at your belly and the moment you do Cregan sees a glimpse of it and can’t help but watch you instead. Yet it’s while he’s admiring you that a thought that’s been building up in his mind makes itself loud and present, managing to escape the depths of his mind and slip past his lips before he can even think about stopping. “These twins…are they mine?”

And just like that your beaming smile dies and the contact you had slips as you shift away.

“I have been thinking about it,” he continues to say and makes you uncomfortable. “And it would align. We lay together before you left the North, and that was seven months ago, so tell me while we’re alone if these twins are mine.”

You get up from the cot and bring your hands together to start fiddling with your rings. “Cregan,” you warn him, but he gets up and goes after you as you wander away.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell a soul,” he tries to assure you, but that’s not what you need. You need him to stop.

“Just tell me. I can protect you. I will protect you,” he keeps saying, causing you to stop fiddling with your rings to turn around sharply instead and grab his biceps to make it clear to him.

“These twins are Aemond’s,” you press, but not because you know that for a fact, but because what other choice is there when you don’t know? What other choice is there when he was your lawful husband when you slept with Cregan, and even thinking that the twins could be bastards could get you and them killed?

“It aligns with him too so they’re his Cregan.”

Said man clenches his jaw and his eyes start to harden, but he doesn’t seeth or hiss, he talks in a colder voice, but he’s still very gentle. “Are they? You do not need to lie to me. No one will know. No one will hurt you. Not while I’m alive, so tell me the truth. Confide in me.”

His words have a way of enticing you even through the persistence you try to hold so he won't question you about it any further.

“Cregan,” you mutter and fight hard with yourself to not indulge him, to not get his hopes over something you don’t even know, but as he looks at you with those grey eyes of his, and as he tells you with a look alone to trust him; how can you not give in?

“I don’t know,” you whisper and slide your hands off his biceps. “Maybe one of them can be yours, but I don’t know.”

Cregan’s eyebrows briefly meet together as he’s overwhelmed with confusion over what you just said. “What do you mean by one? Is that even possible?” He asks.

You shrug. “I don’t know,” you repeat yourself. “But maybe it is possible and maybe just one of them is yours, but I don’t know, I won’t know until they’re born or not at all.”

His confusion heightens to the point he can’t think of anything to add.

“But Cregan listen to me,” you press further and lean in so you’re all he sees. “Even if one is yours. Even if they both are, the truth of the matter is that they won’t ever truly be yours. Not by name, and not under the law or the eyes of the gods because when we lay together I was married, so they will always be Aemond’s. They will have the last name Targaryen even if they happen to look like you.”

This time that confusion he did feel slowly leaves his face and a deep ache replaces it. “Will they?” He mutters back even if he knows how things have to be. “How do you intend to hide that? If they look like me?”

You swallow back nervously and share the solution you have had in mind since you realized that the twins or one of them could be Cregan’s and can come out looking like him. “My grandmother was half Baratheon, they have dark hair, and Alicent is a Hightower, they have dark hair too. She’s red of hair because of her mother, but Hightower’s tend to have dark hair. That’s what I will say, it’s what I have to say unless you want me to die.”

Cregan backs away with his head slowly falling and he shakes it lightly to give your comment a response.

“But that’s only if they come out with dark hair, if the gods are good they’ll have silver hair. They need to,” you whisper against your fingers as you gnaw on your fingers, making him drag his eyes up to meet your gaze with a deep sorrowful look that aches your heart to see.

“Cregan,” you whisper and reach out for his arms, expecting him to back away and storm off like Aemond would have, but he lets you grab his arms and actually holds your elbows to talk through his pain.

“I know how things have to be, but it doesn’t mean I will take away my protection. If they are mine, or if one of them is and she looks like me, I will protect her with my life. You know that,” he says sweetly, making you smile at him and lift your hand to stroke his jaw.

“I know,” you say back softly.

He hums and cups the hand you have on his face before he parts his lips to try and utter two certain words, but he then stops as he sees the remnants of your grief clinging to your eyes.

“Forgive me,” he blurts. “You were grieving and I was selfish. I’m sorry.”

You gulp and nod in agreement. “You know,” you laugh dryly. “Aemond and I used to have these terrible fights. He never would hurt me, but they were nothing like this. We…just…had so much to say. So much going on…” you trail off and lower your head, letting Cregan caress your knuckles in an attempt to comfort you even though you’re talking about someone who still makes him seeth.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble and slowly face him. “That’s the last thing you want to hear.”

He scoffs. “He was your husband,” he says out loud. “And he’s gone now. It’s alright.”

You sigh with relief and glance down, mustering a faint smile as you watch your belly. “What would the people say if they keep seeing you walk in my quarters, Lord Stark?”

He scoffs. “What would they really think with the condition you’re in?”

You giggle and he watches you with a smile.

“I’m just a friend taking care of his Princess,” he reassures your worry. “That’s all.”

You draw out a heavy breath and then meet his gaze to offer him a soft and comprehensive nod. “That’s right.”

He lets out a small breath and finally shares what he was supposed to share in the first place. “The Lord of the Keep is ready to meet with you, so whenever you’re ready we can walk in to meet with them.”

You nod. “Okay, I think I’m ready now. Should I change into a different gown? One with no protection since it is heavy?” You tease, causing him to flash you a charming smile.

“Funny, I’d rather have you wear it than see you without it,” he retorts and walks around you without losing the attention of your gaze as you follow him with your eyes—“I’ll let them know you’re ready then so we can move on quickly and hopefully arrive at our next location by nightfall so you may rest.”

Since you know you won’t change his mind you nod in agreement before he walks out and leaves you to your lonesome, letting you put on a golden headpiece that has pearls dangling over your forehead before you take Blackfyre with the intention of hanging it over your shoulder, but as you hold the pommel you lose yourself on it and for the first time, question taking it with you, and ask yourself for a fleeting moment why you want them to fear you?

You look at your reflection painted on the Valyrian steel blade and remember how loved you wanted to be if you had been chosen heir since the beginning. You wanted to be loved and looked at with admiration and hope. Now what is hope? And can you really be admired when people can’t even meet your eyes?

Hm.

Alas, the thoughts are fleeting. You force yourself to push them away before you secure the sword over your shoulder, thinking now that you need a prettier sheath, one that looks good with your gowns. Maybe you can replace the strap with a golden chain?

It would hurt, but it wouldn’t ruin your entire outfit. The black leather just stands out against the lilac…

Whatever.

You step out and get greeted with a small squadron of men lined up and ready to accompany you, which is courtesy of Cregan and Ser Cane’s over-protectiveness—Their need to make sure you’re protected aligns so no detail is left out.

“Here, I can carry the sword,” Ser Cane immediately offers his assistance and doesn’t fret, he reaches for it, albeit you then step back so he doesn’t grab it.

“What if I need it but I can’t get it because you’re carrying it?” You query with a quirked brow.

“Well,” he sighs. “If you happen to need it would be after our squadron of men is dead,” he says and makes you smile. “And that’s not going to happen, but just so you may be assured, I will be right behind you at all times.”

“Like a shadow,” you tease and start to let the sheath slip off your shoulder. “Maybe you should smile then, Ser, so you may be less intimidating.”

“I’ll smile when there's a need for it,” he retorts, making you laugh.

“Okay, okay,” you roll out and hand him Blackfyre. “Let’s go.”

He hums and just as promised he’s right behind you and honestly it’s one of the best comforts when you're far from home.

“Addam, did you figure out what you’re going to say?” You ask the man as he makes his way to your side.

“Yes,” he affirms and right away finds Lord Stark as he catches up to you both. “Every question has a response. You need only step in if they keep refusing.”

It’s better that way, nowadays you tend to respond too bluntly, and with impatience and anger which doesn’t bode well when you’re trying to convince a Lord or Lady to lend some of their fighting men to your army, so it's good that Addam is glib of tongue. He says he isn’t but he took after your grandfather in that aspect, they’re both so good at talking to people, at reassuring them, and or convincing them to do something they need.

You can admit that you have never had that skill, you grow impatient too quickly and tend to get right to the point. It’s a skill you need to practice especially now that you’re heir…

It’s still an unbelievable title.

It's so surreal after wanting it for so long and only having it in your deepest desires. But now that you wear the title in all its glory, you can’t muster a single flicker of glee for it. It’s too heavy of a title to find much pride or joy in…which would have upset your younger self.

Honestly, if you think about that girl, all you feel is grief. The life you always wanted was never in your reach like you thought it was, it turned out to be an illusion, and as you think about that now and think about who you were, all you feel is sad and bad for that girl with her head in the clouds. If you could you would tell her to come down to see what you do now, terror in the eyes of the people you wanted to love you.

It’s so loud and striking in everyone’s eyes. When you enter the hall of the rather small keep, and walk down an illuminated path made of fire posts that stand tall and proud with their dancing flames, all you see is their fear; it stands out behind the flickering flames, just like you stand out to them more than the raging flames they know you mingle with; and not in some graceful way like the sun against a blue sky, you’re like a terrorizing ball of fire that brings only destruction and death.

There’s nowhere to hide from something so rageful, but they find comfort in the shadows, letting the dancing flames only consume your presence and the presence of those who accompany you.

“My Lord, my Lady,” Addam greets the head of the house sitting before you in their wooden chairs set in front of even more fire that keeps the hall warm.

“We are honored by your greeting,” he continues and bows his head, letting you stand tall in the middle of the path, demanding their immediate respect that they give by getting off their seats and kneeling to you. And all without meeting your eyes; not even when they stand back up or offer you refreshments and something to eat. Their eyes dance around you. It’s such a noticeable thing and maybe it's because you pay all your focus on the way they all look at you, but you can see it clearly. All the awe and admiration are non-existent in their eyes. Even as you stand under the illuminating firelight in the dark hall, all they see is someone to fear, and someone to be cautious about. They see all that you feared people would see, and it makes the bright firelight dim in your eyes.

“…we still grasp onto the hope that the rightful ruler will win the war and end this tyranny,” you catch the Lord of the Keep saying after tuning out the conversation they had while you were lost in the looks behind the flames.

“No,” you blur, causing Addam to slowly look at you with panic after not expecting you to utter a word since you were so quiet—“there’s no such thing as hope.”

A heightened tension grabs a tighter hold around everyone’s throats at the sound of your tragic words.

“We alone pave our own path. Hope has nothing to do with it,” you share and cause a sadness to strike in Cregan’s heart as he hears you say words he thought you would never say.

“…and it’s why we will win. Your assistance will just make us stronger than ever before,” you say and at last the eyes of the Lord find a way to fall on you without strain, seeing the way you illuminate so hauntingly against all the glimmering fire.

“But it's not a guarantee?” He rebuttals. “If I give you my swords will it be a guarantee? I already lost so much with the previous wars, what makes this one any different?”

You draw in a deep breath and roll your shoulders back as you slowly point your nose in the air to show your arrogance. “Addam and I will be fighting with our dragons this time. That’s the difference.”

The Lord taps his fingers on his armrests and looks to Addam as if thinking over what he had said for a moment before he sits up straight and nods. “So be it. I will give you the fighting men but leave a handful to protect my home.”

A weight can be felt lifting off the room as the Lord does what everyone hoped he would do to avoid being bathed in dragon fire in the same way your Kinslayer of a husband terrorized the Riverlands.

Actually, if you’re being realistic, if you sit and think about the reality, that’s why the Lord was so easily swayed because he feared you turning his family and his home to ash. That fear painted such a beautiful picture in his eyes and the eyes of everyone that was in that hall.

Then again maybe it’s because as the day passes all you can do is think about how clear and easy it was to see, like fire in the darkness.

You would ask yourself why if you were oblivious, ignorant too, but you’re not either of those things, you know why they fear you, you basked in that persona. But the question that you do ask yourself is if you want them to keep fearing you...

You look at the fire. You admire its beauty against the night-consumed earth swallowing everything in darkness but the piece of land you sit on, and know that you don’t want to give up the power you hold, and why should you? Men don’t have to give up anything to appear less threatening, people welcome that aspect from a man, so why don't they welcome that from you too? You’re in a war, you can’t just sit by and do nothing while you have a dragon and the ability to touch fire without getting hurt. You have to take advantage of it, so why can’t they love you despite it?

Why do they fear you? What can you do to appear less threatening and rageful, and more warm and trustworthy instead?

Then again can fire be anything but the embodiment of rageful, threatening, hot, and untrustworthy unless it's snuffed out or starving?

“You’re not meant to be out here all alone,” Addam interrupts your moment of silence, causing you to crush the dry flower you were burning to ash in your hand before you slowly peer back and watch him make his way to your side on the piece of land you're plopped on.

“I have Blackfyre and my fierce need to protect myself,” you try to assure him, but that doesn’t ease his annoyance. “I’m not far from camp,” you add and drift your eyes away to watch the fire burning on your torch instead as he falls on his ass beside you.

“And it’s secluded.”

“So you say,” Addam remarks. “One of the men said there’s a lot of bandits in these parts. What would be of you if they kidnapped you?”

“Well,” you sigh and pull the torch off the ground to stick it at your other side so you can lie down on the ground. “…They would either blackmail Cregan or my mother for money to release me. Or I would have watched them burn.” You shrug mindlessly and watch him take his turn to lie down next to you.

“Quite an easy day huh?” You change the subject and smile brightly as you watch Astraea and Seasmoke fly overhead.

“Yes, it was,” he agrees as he folds his arms behind his head and watches the sky with you. “Considering the Keep is small I thought they would put up more of a fight, but they gave in without a fight. Maybe that’s why I got that vision of bringing you along. The gods knew your presence would make it easier.”

You let out a dry chuckle and shake your head in protest. “They fear me,” you mutter almost shamefully. “I don’t fill them with inspiration. They are scared of me. It was obvious.”

There’s a moment of silence that creeps over you and Addam. It lingers, letting you have no other option but to watch as the dragons dance with the stars as they fly high in the sky.

“They fear the unknown,” Addam finally shares the thought he was carefully forming; a thought so pure and sincere that there’s no hint of malice—“they fear all the things they hear, that version of who you are, but it’s not who you are. As long as you know that you keep trying to prove that to them. That’s all you can do, you can’t beg them or force them, just keep trying to be the person you are, not the person they hear about. Or else you’re more of the same.”

And he would know that. He was a smallfolk up until a couple of months ago when he bonded with Seasmoke.

“So no more walking through fire?” You question him as you turn your head to look at him, making him then look at you as he feels your stare.

“No, no.” He shakes his head. “We’re still at war, just be less…Aemond. Be more you, who you were.”

You scoff and turn your head away. “You did not know Aemond,” you remark and watch the dragons again, but this time you watch them flying out of view.

“No, but I knew of him. He sounded like a terrifying man. Who burns their own brother?”

“Someone who was bullied all his life by that same brother,” you defend Aemond quietly as you can feel the jabs of pain by just thinking about him. “He was not…scary,” you say and swallow back the lump that was forming in your throat.

“I’m sure he wasn’t to you,” Addam begrudges you, keeping you quiet instead of trying to argue with someone who wouldn’t understand. No one would.

Thus you leave it be and admire the sky until slowly you let your head loll to the side to slowly take Addam in and watch him as his eyes and mind get lost in the cloudy night hiding the sea of stars, but not dull even for a second that glimmer in his dark eyes. He carries not the moon and the stars, but the warm sun that’s missing so often in this part of the country. He carries warmth that could melt the frost that blankets the earth in the early mornings…just like Jacaerys could.

He is everything your brothers were, being with him is like having a part of them back. He could never fill the void they left, but he is a reminder of that warmth your brother's death took from your soul. And it’s because of that reminder that you know you can trust him with the dire request you need to ask of him.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” You ask with the person you trust the most with this matter.

“Of course,” Addam says without hesitation or truly knowing what you’re going to ask for.

Even still, you continue. “As you know I’m seven months along with these babes,” you start saying and slowly have him turning his head toward you—“and something I learned from my septa when I was young was that twins sometimes come before nine months. So…maybe in a couple of weeks I might give birth, and with that comes a risk.”

“Yes, I know,” Addam says breathlessly as he thinks about the tragedy of birth. Yet he hasn’t grasped the full picture when it comes to twins so you interrupt him.

“No, when it's twins there’s a higher chance for me to die,” you say without a pause, just a small crack in your voice. “And if that happens, if something happens to me on that birthing bed and the babes come out looking like...” You trail off for the first time and take a deep breath as if what you’re going to say is weighing you down. But then that’s because it does.

“…Cregan,” you finally give Addam that insight he had been missing, and what he had been suspecting since the moment he saw Cregan and you reunite—“I need you to take them, mount Seasmoke and fly far away.”

This time Addam sits up in a flash and stares down at you hard, making you slowly push yourself up and meet his gaze with desperation instead of shame or anything else that you might feel when admitting that you cheated on your husband, and now want Addam to run away with your children.

“Aerion will be taken care of by my mother, but the twins,” you insist with a vulnerability he can clearly hear in your voice. “If they turn out to be Cregan’s and I am not here to protect them they could be killed, or live their lives ostracized and belittled. And without me in their lives to protect them and scare those demons away, their lives will be a waking nightmare.”

Addam’d face falls, losing that initial shock and surprise and instead showing his concern and confusion. “But what of Lord Stark?” He can't help but ask as if that’s not something you have already thought about. “He can protect them, and your mother can and would too.”

“Did you not hear me?” You quip. “No matter where they live, their lives would always be about them being bastards. And I know it’s my fault, I am to blame for sleeping with a man that wasn’t my husband, but…they don’t deserve to pay for my sins. And I know my being here wouldn’t change much, but at least I could protect them. I would be the face of all the people’s scrutiny, but if I’m not here…if something happens to me, I need you to take them. I need you to protect them and raise them. Promise me.”

Addam’s disbelief looks like a raging storm behind his brown eyes while you look into them, so you quickly look away, missing the way his face falls before he shares his disbelief. “But why me? I know that even if we win this war with our efforts, the people won’t look at me differently. I will always be a bastard, so I understand your need to protect your children from that, but….why do you trust me to take care of them?”

You tilt your head down in an attempt to meet his gaze with a softened look of your admiration. “Because you’re a good man, Addam,” you reassure his insecurity. “Because you have a good heart and you’re everything my brothers were, and everything I want my children to grow up to be. That’s why.”

Addam slowly picks his head up, meeting your gaze to share his gratitude with his glistening eyes and a small smile.

“You would risk your life so if you don’t want to take this responsibility say it, I won’t be offended and they would be looked after either way. It’s just a precaution, a path that I am willing to take, or have someone take.” You add for his own benefit. “Or if you want to consider it, just tell me.”

Addam averts his gaze for a moment, looking around thoughtfully before his gaze hardens and he looks at you with a fierce dedication. “I will do it,” he says and catches you by surprise with how quick he was to make such a heavy decision that should have taken him days to weeks to decide. Especially because it comes with so many risks, and so much sacrifice for someone he’s known for such a short time.

“You mean it?” You ask, and he offers you a sweet smile.

“Of course. I know how it feels to be ostracized, I know the looks and all the bad that comes with it,” he says, causing your own face to fall as your heart sinks deeper.

“Then it makes me a terrible mother for putting my children at risk,” you mumble so it’s barely audible, but he catches what you said and quickly rebuttals.

“No, unless it was on purpose,” he rolls out so you can trail on with an explanation.

“No,” you do as he wanted you to do. “When I lay with Cregan it was not out of malice to get something out of him or to possibly fall with child. I was lonely and he was there. He was everything I needed. He was all the love I left behind, I didn’t think of it as a payback against Aemond for killing Lucerys. Cregan was and is a light in the darkness so no it was not on purpose.”

“Then no,” Addam assures you while also finally understanding the connection between Cregan and you. He at last understands the lingering looks and stolen glances, he understands why you dance around each other when you talk, and finally understands Cregan’s protectiveness that made him appear like a threatening wolf trying to keep Addam away from what Cregan cherishes the most.

“It doesn’t make you a terrible mother,” he continues sweetly. “A bit thoughtless? Yes, but you’re young and you love him.”

“I did not love Aemond any less,” you quickly explain yourself as if that makes the situation any better.

“I know, you don’t need to explain it to me. I know.”

You nod faintly in comprehension and sink down on the ground to once again stare off at the flames dancing on the torch as you still feel so terrible for possibly putting your twins at that risk after seeing how your brothers were treated all their lives.

“But what I don’t understand is why you’re taking precautions when you know you’re going to live past this war,” Addam finally shares his thought out loud.

“Alys says our lives are already a story,” you say as you keep looking at the fire. “Everything that will happen is already set, but…I can’t rely on that knowledge when I have not lived it yet. I need to think of it as a possibility or else I will get caught up in it and live mindlessly.”

Addam hums and you hear him shift against the grass. “If that’s so then…if I die—”

You snap your head toward him and shoot him a pointed glare. “Don’t say that, Addam.”

He puts his finger up and interjects right away. “If I die, return me to Driftmark. I want to rest by the sea, not in some wetlands.”

You keep passing him your glare and grumble. “Tumbleton are not wetlands.”

“Swear,” he presses and disregards your comment.

You roll your eyes away but you still throw out your response. “I’ll do it, but I don’t believe you’ll die.”

“Oh—”

“Because I’ll die first so you can miss me,” you cut him off and laugh quietly. “You’ll miss my siren song. Who will fill your heart with such amazing music then?”

Addam scoffs and chuckles dryly, making you look over at him with a smile.

“I have yet to actually hear you sing,” he remarks. “So until then, it’s all a myth.”

You raise a brow and nudge his arm. “Don't worry I’ll bless you with my song soon enough. Not now though. We should return to camp now.”

You proceed to try and push yourself to your feet but with all the extra weight you struggle, causing Addam to jump to his feet swiftly and then grab your hand to assist you in your endeavor.

“Yes let’s,” he follows up by saying. “I wouldn’t want someone to be lurking about the woods ready to rip me to shreds,” he teases you about Cregan and you can't help but let out a fake laugh—“really, he’s got this really piercing stare. I feel like he’s devouring me.”

“If his stare is piercing then he can’t really devour you, more like…pierce you,” you correct him, causing him to stop as he’s grabbing Blackfyre for you to stare deep into the abyss of your soul.

You proceed to swipe the torch off the ground first and then catch him staring with a judgmental look that makes you giggle without fault.

“You sound like the maester,” he grumbles. “And very snobby too.”

“Oh haha,” you feign your laugh and kick dirt at him, but he doesn’t react, he shrugs and stays true to his word.

“You are very snobby and pretentious, you know that? It’s a miracle you don’t float away with your nose always stuck in the air,” he says as he mocks the way you talk.

“My other great traits keep me anchored,” you play along and spin around to start walking back to camp with him behind you.

“Aha, your big head.”

You snort and nod eagerly. “Exactly!”

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

Days pass and between that several miles have been crossed that bring new Keeps of Lord and Ladies you only knew by name. All who are different in their own way, for example, in the way they speak, the way they greet their guests, the way they carry themselves, and the different arguments they bring up when met with the demand to lend their swords to your army of men. However, no matter the differences, they all share a key similarity in their eyes, and that is fear.

They all look at you like you’re wildfire, a spark they need to be cautious of and keep calm so it doesn’t develop and consume everything in its path. It’s only because of Addam’s glib tongue that they find some ease in their choice, so you’re grateful for him. What would have this journey turned out to be without him you have to wonder.

You probably wouldn’t have inspired as many Lords and Ladies to lend their fighting men. You are like the push Addam��s speeches need, or like the threatening dragon in the back guarding him. But you alone wouldn’t have persuaded them like him. You would be here with Cregan and his army, that's something you’re certain of because you still would have tried to make it right for your mother, but you wouldn’t be greeted with open arms or curiosity.

You also would be in the forest, that’s something you are also certain about. You would be out under the cloudy sky, breathing in the brisk air, listening to the birds chirping in the trees they call home, avoiding the mud to not get dirty, taking breaks as the twins are getting heavier by the day to carry, and you would have your bow and arrow out to stalk a fish as you wonder if killing it to eat it is really right.

You look at the fish, you admire its pretty blue scales glimmering under the water's surface, and can’t build the courage to let your arrow go. It doesn’t feel right, so you loosen your aim and rest the bow against your swollen belly to watch the fish instead.

Only, in the minutes that follow you gasp when the blue fish turns around and swallows a smaller fish whole, causing you to quickly change your mind and pick the bow back up to let the arrow go and hit the fish before deciding to retreat back to camp with the single blue fish. And once you are back in camp you come to find Cregan and Addam walking and talking together so you waddle toward them and announce your presence by throwing your arm over Addam.

“My dearest uncle,” you greet him and earn both of the men’s attention.

“You’re back, and with,” he pauses and you show off your trophy. “…a single fish.”

You beam at him and peel away from his side to spin on your heels and face them as you walk backward. “It ate another fish after I was going to spare it so I shot it and now I’m going to eat it, or feed it to the hound.”

Addam hums and Cregan passes you an amused look that’s also filled with slight judgment, but you let it be and instead bring up another matter. “Addam today is your lucky day.”

Said man lifts a brow and probes. “How so?”

You flash him a smile and then giggle before you respond. “Tonight Ser Cane agreed to play the lute, isn’t that right ser?”

“Twisted my arm,” he deadpans and you chuckle since you know that’s far from the truth because the campfire was the idea he shared with you. He said he wanted to play the lute as long as you sang, so how could you deny the request?!

But you'll let him act all nonchalant.

“And!” You clap. “I’m going to accompany him by singing, so boys you are invited to our campfire, there will be singing, dancing, and lute playing!” You exclaim. “Oh! And women as well, the healers are going to attend. I have persuaded them, so Addam put on your most charming smile.”

Addam rolls his eyes and grumbles. “There’s no time for that.”

You ignore him and proceed to taunt him. “Oh? Rhaena you say?”

“No!”

“Well I’ll say Rhaena is the best choice for you, Baela is a bit too tough for you,” you keep ignoring him. “She might bite your head off, but Rhaena is more gentle, so yes I agree she is the right one.”

Addam shakes his head and you bounce your eyebrows and share the idea you had already told her. “And if you don’t make a move when we see each other again, just know I will put something in your breakfast and shove you in a boat so you may drift to the middle of the sea and be forced to find a way back to shore together because nothing screams romance like a good adventure!” You exclaim dramatically and grab his arm to shake him. “You will fall in love, thank me when you wed, and name your first daughter after me!” You giggle and then squeal. “I can see it already.”

Addam pulls his arm out of your grasp and tries to share a glance with Cregan, but he is too busy looking at you with a smile in his eyes to even pay attention to Addam.

“As to why people fear you? I don’t know. They should fear how annoying you are, you know that? Why don’t you worry about your own love life now that you’re a widow.”

“Oh, my love life is decided,” you joke around and flash Cregan a smirk, catching a frown flicker on his face. “My mother has given me the freedom to choose my next husband so I will find my Tyroshi knight whom I had a crush on when I was a little girl,” you say and touch your chest to pretend to be swooning. “He was tall, buff, with very black hair, and green eyes. And when I was young I would purposely take the long way to the library to pass by his post so he could greet me.”

Addam passes you a disgusted look and Cregan scoffs.

“He left not so much later after I discovered I was fond of him so I’m going to search for him and marry him,” you add with a teasing smile.

“Good luck,” Addam quips and you bow your head in return.

“Thank you. As for now though I’m going to cook this fish, think about him, and get ready for later,” you let them know before you spin around and head toward your tent, expecting to ruminate in that hint of joy you were riddled with, but it’s hard.

When you’re in the warmth of your tent, hearing the day pass around you, remembering the faces of everyone you met, the joy slowly burns away. You watch it turn to ash in the fires that keep your tent warm, and in doing so, also bringing forth this exhaustion from the ashes that makes you want to do nothing else but sleep it off as it all gets too heavy to carry. Just staying awake is a trudging effort, but you fight hard to push down that nagging exhaustion and get ready instead, while also making sure to tug on a smile before stepping out without carrying that weight on your shoulders to be like one of the stars that miraculously make an appearance tonight.

“Hello and what a joy it is to see all of your faces tonight,” you address the crowd with an ever-so-blinding charm that you’re using for the night. “I would do my signature bow, but,” you sigh and then click your tongue. “Alas my twins won’t let me, so no bow, but you do get a smile and my ever-so-royal presence.” You say and flash them a beaming smile, causing some of the men in the crowd to hoot before you you lean back and drive all your attention to Addam.

“I would just like to point out a very special person here in the crowd with us tonight, my uncle, and my dearest friend, Ser Addam of Hull!” You exclaim with words that flow easily out of your mouth. “He said one of his dreams was to hear me sing, so today is your lucky day, my friend!”

Said man shakes his head to deny your false claim told to interact with the crowd.

“But I will say,” you continue and lean forward. “My grandfather, Lord Corlys said that when you hear a siren song in the sea you know you’re in danger. Are you in danger tonight, Ser?”

“No, because we’re not in the sea!” He retorts, making you and the crowd laugh.

“Then it is your lucky day!” You exclaim. “Because this song is just for you!”

You proceed to look back at Ser Cane and he starts strumming his lute before you start to sing the words to your absolute favorite song. And with not so much effort or much time later, the atmosphere around the campfire explodes like embers exploding in the fire; going from a standstill and just watching to dancing and singing along with drinks in their hands. And it’s because you see the crowd enjoying themselves that you get drunk off their glee, going from exhausting smiles to a genuine smile that hurts your cheeks. There even comes a point when Addam joins you and sings the last few lines with you as he watches you from the crowd.

Yet nothing makes that bright smile reach your eyes like seeing Cregan finally join the celebrating crowd.

“Okay, okay,” you calm the crowd down when the song comes to an end. “I need you all to listen well because this next song is one I myself translated from Valyrian for someone close and dear to my beating heart,” you share and never once tear your eyes away from Cregan parting through the crowd without once saying excuse me. The people move for him and make space so he can make his way to the front where he stands next to Addam and becomes all you can focus on because there's nothing brighter, or more interesting than him, the person the song is about.

“Is it me?!” One of the men exclaims in the crowd. “If it is, I will marry you!”

You squint your eyes and search the crowd until you find the daring culprit to be Lord Benjicot Blackwood, the excited young boy from before. “You would marry me?” You play along. “While I look like this?”

“Of course! If the song is for me, why not?!”

You giggle and tilt your head to the side. “Aw well how sweet of you, but I cannot say who the song is about or it will ruin the mystery,” you let him down in a smart way. “Sorry darling. Maybe one day.”

He hollers out of excitement so you flash him a grin before you straighten up and continue to address the entire crowd. “Dance if you want, cry, or sing, I don’t know. Do what your heart desires and enjoy because I will soon leave this stage and join you all,” you proclaim before you peer back and give Ser Cane a gesturing nod that lets him begin to strum his lute so you can start singing your song.

And this time around, as you stand in some field in the middle of the Riverlands as a widow and no need to hide your connection from anyone anymore; you hold Cregan’s grey eyes with a soft glistening admiration and dedicate your smile just to him, finding nothing more heartwarming or heart pumping then that small smile he offers you as you are the sole captor of his attention and shine in his eyes like the morning and evening star, the sun, the fire in the darkness, and the moon in every single phase of its cycle.

Anyone with eyes would see how the wolf is so enamored with the dragon, but everyone is so busy in their own happy states that they fail to notice the sparks that give life to a different fire elsewhere. Even Addam’s attention is stolen, so for as long as the song lasts only Cregan and you exist under the starlittered night. The campfire blazing in the distance is only meant to keep your bodies warm, and the music is just meant to make your hearts dance.

Do you wish that moment stolen from time could last forever? Yes, you both want to prolong this moment, but alas, the song comes to an end and other singers and musicians take the stage, letting the men caught up in the moment pull you away from Cregan’s sight to make you dance along with them. And even though you do lag behind with the twins weighing you down, you don’t let that weight from before keep crushing your soul, you become weightless to be a part of the moment, and find joy in this stolen moment on a random night because there’s nothing more exciting and memorable than stolen moments is there?

Yet you can’t truly be lost in the crowd, you don’t blend with your white-silver hair glimmering like diamonds against the fire blazing in the center, but Cregan doesn’t steal you away from the crowd to avoid diminishing your excitement. Cregan stands in the back of the crowd where the light barely touches him, but where he can see you clearly as you’re pulled around the campfire from partner to partner until you land in Addam’s arms and laugh with him like you don’t harbor any sadness or grief.

That’s all Cregan could ever want, your happiness. How can anyone be so cruel as to want you to suffer? Why do the gods find amusement in your pain? Can’t they see you shine your brightest when you’re happy? Don't they like to see you smile and be happy like he likes to?

If only this moment could last forever, or at least linger for a few more days so he doesn’t have to see that weight crushing you or the dark shadow of grief cast over you again, but alas, it can’t last forever so he basks in the now and continues to watch you from the shadows until suddenly you make your way to him with a cocky smirk playing on your lips.

“Come dance with me,” you don’t say it as a request, but more as a demand. “Just this song.”

You reach him and grab his hand to pull him with you regardless of what his response might be.

“It’s not a request is it?” He asks nevertheless as he's taken away from the shadows and becomes a participant in the events of the night.

“No,” you giggle, and once you make it back near the campfire, you bring him to a stop and face him before you pull your hands up as they stay interlinked, and start to walk around him to follow the beat of the new song.

“Dance Lord Stark,” you demand again and nudge his foot, causing him to sigh before he matches your pace and starts walking around you with your hands interlocked in the sky.

“You look beautiful,” he compliments you as you get lost in each other's eyes.

“Thank you,” you say sweetly and offer him a matching smile. “You look quite handsome yourself under this starlight.”

He scoffs and hides his smile by pointing it to the ground. The song then starts to pick up so you don’t falter, but he still finds it in himself not to lose sight of your eyes, he holds your gaze and you get lost again, finding nothing more comfortable than the depths of his eyes that reflect the roaring fire behind you and make him look that more passionate.

“Is it okay if I steal you after this? I want to talk to you,” he reveals, making your heart jump. “Or we can wait until this is over if you’re enjoying it.”

You swallow thickly and shake your head. “No, we can go after this song,” you assure him because honestly, you can’t take the anticipation. And until then you stay in each other's proximity, not daring to change partners or ever look away out of fear you’d lose each other if your eyes weren’t as interconnected as your hands are, but can you blame each other for being so attached? There’s finally nothing holding you back, your paths are meeting up to intertwine and become one once and for all. Why would you be anything else but attached to the hip?

When the song comes to an end and the time comes to part away from the clamoring crowd, you don't even let go of one another, you’re like kids in love again refusing to be too far from each other and wanting nothing else but find one special place to hide and be alone without getting caught or disturbed.

That’s perhaps something no one could take away from you because it was your special thing just like going to the roof was yours and Aemond’s thing.

“Come on just over here,” he lets you know as he keeps his hand secured around yours so you don’t fall behind.

“Hey, what did you think about that last song I sang?” You ask as you blindly follow him through the thick of the woods, and he huffs softly before you catch a glimpse of his eye as he peers back at you with a rather timid smile.

“I found it in this book of ballads and songs I was gifted and it reminded me of you,” you share shamelessly and make his grip around your hand tighten as you receive silence. “I was planning to talk about it through a letter, but alas our paths crossed again.”

“Well it was popular amongst the crowd,” he finally says in a softened tone. “But most of them were getting drunk.”

You hum and keep your eyes on him to await his answer with your heart starting to race since he doesn’t say anything in regards to your question.

“And those who weren’t drunk probably thought it was about your husband,” he says and there’s a bit of roughness that makes an appearance in his tone for a second, so you interject.

“But it wasn’t. You know that?” You say it as a question rather than a comment, making him look at you over his shoulder to look into your eyes and get the reassurance he was missing before he nods and flashes you a charming smile.

“I do, It was a beautiful song. I liked it,” he finally fills your heart with bliss as he responds to your question before he lets himself be flirty. “You should sing it again but in a more private setting this time.”

You grin at him and offer him an agreeing nod before you look ahead with the intention to finally question where it is he’s dragging you to, after all, all the walking is starting to exhaust you, but the moment you look past his shoulder a gasp escapes your lips as you see a clearing just ahead where the moon bathes the field of grass in its illuminating glow.

“Look at that,” you muse and quicken your pace to take the lead and step into that grass field kissed by the moon's hue.

“I came walking and I discovered it,” Cregan shares quietly as he admires the way you admire the clearing. “It reminded me of the clearing we would escape to in Winterfell.”

You spin around and face him with a taunting smile. “Are you still using me as your midnight rendezvous, my Lord?”

Cregan scoffs. “No, not anymore, but,” he sighs and smiles ever so softly that it barely shows on his face, but his eyes, they smile the brightest. “…I thought it would be special.”

You hum softly and take one more step back before you sit on the ground and pat the spot next to you even though that’s the exact spot he was going to take regardless. You then want to comment on the fact that the small piece of land is breathtaking especially as the moon seems to shine just for the field of grass, but you’re so caught up in the bliss and peace of the moment that silence brings that you can’t bring yourself to break it just yet. You simply take in and release the crispy air of the night and get wrapped in the comfort of Cregan breathing beside you.

You get so lost in the moment in fact that you forget the world past the perimeters of the field of moonlight, it’s just him, you, the moon, and the field of stars in his eyes. When Cregan is not paying attention you steal a lingering look at him and admire how beautiful his grey eyes are as they reflect the beautiful painting of the field of stars above your head, reminding you of the endless field of stars in the North, and those warm and cold nights you would spend selfishly under them with only each other as company as you tried not to but failed at not falling in love with another.

You wish you could go back to those nights. You wish you could be back there again where it was just you and him. And for a moment it does feel like you are but only for a moment until you peel your eyes away from him and remember that you’re far from the North and that life you once had.

“Can I ask you something?” Cregan brings up, cutting through the silence, but not the bliss, and making you hum as a response without tearing your eyes away from the sky, in doing so, missing the way he admires the way your silver-white hair glistens under the moon's hue like the pure untouched snow in the North.

He actually wishes he could be back home now with you at his side and at last sharing his family name. You would be happier there because you were always happy when you were in Winterfell. Alas…

“Do you really not believe in hope anymore?” He asks such a heavy question that kills your smile and makes you blink in disbelief before you face him.

“It’s just what you say worries me,” he continues to share. “It’s not you.”

You look at him for a while as you try to gather your thoughts and try to come up with some lie to not include your grief and your agony that have taken turns stripping at that hope you used to cherish, but as you look at him you see your best friend, someone you can trust, and have told everything to, so why would you lie about this?

“There’s just no point in hoping,” you share quietly as you blink and slowly bring your head down. “Hope did not save my brothers or my grandmother. And hope has not won this war, the people fighting in it have, so no, hope is not something I believe in anymore. We carve our own path.”

Cregan sighs and scoots himself closer to you to grab your chin with a gentle touch before he then tilts your head up so you’re looking into his eyes softened by the sorrow you make him feel. “Darling, you can’t give up on hope. I know the losses you have suffered have taken a piece of you with them. The way your story has unfolded has not been pleasant or merciful, but we need hope just like we need to breathe.”

You shake your head and feel your eyes sting as tears start to well in your eyes. “I have hoped,” your voice quivers. “I have set my heart on hope, but…the world is set on seeing me and my family suffer. If I cling to hope again I will be crushed and there’s hardly any of me left. I can’t…I need to keep my guard up.”

A deep breath leaves his nose and the hand he had on your chin slides up to your cheek whilst the other one gently cups your other cheek so he can hold your face. And it’s that gentle hold that causes you to break into a quiet weep as you melt into his grasp.

“It’s made me a monster, hasn’t it? I wanted power, I wanted to be looked at as a warrior like the woman that came before me, but they all hate me now. They fear me, Cregan. And you do too.”

Cregan leans forward and presses his forehead against yours, but at that moment, your head droops so his face is pressed against the side of yours. “No, no,” he whispers. “Never. You became who they forced you to be, but it does not make me fear you or look at you any differently. You know that,” he says and his breath unfurls over your cheek as he speaks, bringing goosebumps to your skin. “And as for everyone else, you will show them exactly who you want them to see when you win that battle. I know it’s not now, but give them time, okay? They’ll see, they will all see what me and those men that respect you do, hm?”

You blink repeatedly, shedding more tears that make him look cloudy as you pull your head up to look at him. And as you do you accidentally brush your lips against his.

“I need to ask you something else,” he whispers against your lips as he looks between them and your eyes with this temptation starting to burn within him.

“Okay,” you say breathlessly and watch his eyes darting between your lips and your attentive gaze.

“I know,” he breathes out and licks his lips. “…you said to give you time. And time is what you will get, as much as you need, but I need to ask you now that I can, now that nothing is holding us back…” he trails off and you feel your heart skip a beat before it starts to race whilst your eyes slightly widen with curiosity even though you suspect where he might be taking this.

“…marry me,” he says and steals your breath even though you felt it coming in the same way he says winter is coming before the first winter winds blow—“It does not have to be right away, I can wait until after the war, but I just want you to be mine already by promise at least. I don’t want to lose you again. I want…to take you back home after this war,” he says sweet words that make butterflies flutter in your stomach, and make a warmth start to unfurl all over your body.

“I want to love you without having to hide. I want to see your belly swollen with a child of our own,” he continues, making you chuckle and hold onto his wrists for stability. “I want to share my life with you until I take my last breath when we’re old and grey.”

You let out a deep breath as your heart swoons and brings an awe-struck smile to your face. “I want a life with you too,” you assure him. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and I want to know the son we will share.”

You both chuckle and he also reaffirms his grasp on your face.

“I just…can’t kiss you right now,” you almost feel pain to say. “I want to but I can’t—”

“I understand,” Cregan cuts you off and gently caresses your cheek. “I do because you’re mine now.”

You beam at him for a second before your face falls as you close your eyes and just take in the moment.

“Please don’t leave me,” you barely form into an audible sentence because it’s so laced with fear. “Please.”

He shakes his head. “I would be mad to leave you. Death can’t even keep me away from you.”

Your lips twitch to a smile before you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him into an embrace you melt into as much as you can.

“I love you,” you whisper as you hold onto him tightly out of a deep fear he will be taken away from you like so many others have.

“I love you too, my darling,” he doesn’t hesitate to say back as he rubs your back with one hand and gently cups the back of your neck with the other.

A peaceful silence then proceeds to roll back in, and in that shared bliss as you sit interconnected with one another under the moon's illuminating light, you both find yourselves back home.

A/N- Blue fish, blue fish what do you symbolize???

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan @weepingfashionwritingplaid @answer-the-sirens @silverlightsaber @rosey1981 @amortentiaaaa

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sweetbonniebel · 5 months ago

Text

Jaes's hen jēdar

god's of the sky

Two

Daemon x reader, Rhaenyra x reader, Qoren Martell x reader

Masterlist <-previous , next->

100 AC Dragonstone

Alysanne's youngest and most favored daughter, Gael, died during childbirth with her first child the princess y/n. Gael's death broke the good Queen, for she had outlived all but two of her children. No longer able to bear living at King's Landing and the Red Keep, Alysanne returned to Dragonstone. She died of a wasting illness on that took away most of the joys in her life, her body was cremated, and her ashes were interred on Dragonstone.

Little y/n watched curiously from her grandsire's arms her head tucked in his neck. She saw tears leaving the King's eyes, his expression somber and broken.

"My little princess." Jaehaerys whispered. With no parents of her own, the King became the guarding of his fifth grandchild. The little princess as the King affectionately called her became a crutch for the wise monarch just as her mother has been for Queen Alysanne.

His age prevented him from flying on dragon back as well as most of activities that brought him joy. Jaehaerys ordered that the crib of little y/n be moved to the chambers that once belonged to him and his sister-wife Queen Alysanne.

From then on princess y/n was always with the King. The old monarch played and read to the little child. Due to his condition Jaehaerys was bedridden for most of his days, rarely leaving his chambers. To the surprise of many his granddaughter accompanied him everywhere, to small council meeting, official suppers and many other. From then on the little princess was dubbed Jaehaerys's shadow.

...

101 AC Harenhall

„Mama who is that?” The great-granddaughter of King Jaehaerys princess Rhaenyra asked her mother, curiously watching the six year old girl talk to the king.

„This is your aunt, Rhaenyra.” Aemma whispered gently stroking Rhaenyra’s silver hair. „Her name is y/n. If the King allows it you two will be brought up together.”

„y/n…” Rhaenyra muttered leaning on her mothers shoulder looking intensely at the girl. „Can I show her Syrax?”

„Not today but one day my sweet” Aemma responded smiling at her daughters love for her steed.

„Aemma!” Viserys called searching for his wife. He stopped once he saw his daughter and wife awaiting at his presence.

„I am here my love.” Aemma said rising from the seat, her pregnant belly swollen and heavy. „Rhaenyra go with Daena to your nursery.”

After the death of Queen Alysanne and their two oldest sons Aemon and Baelon, Jaehaerys called upon the great council to decide the matter of succession. Fourteen claims have been brought before the council. Nine lesser claims were quickly discarded.

Archmaester Vaegon the only living son of the old king was passed over due to his vows, and Princess Rhaenys and her daughter Laena were passed over on account of their sex. The assembled lords then focused down on two major candidates: Prince Viserys Targaryen and Rhaenys's son Laenor Velaryon.

Primogeniture favored Laenor, as his mother, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, was the daughter of Prince Aemon Targaryen, who had been the eldest living son of King Jaehaerys. Yet proximity favored Viserys, who, in addition, had been the last Targaryen prince to ride Balerion.

Rhaenys stood proud with her husband Lord Corlys Velaryon and her young children at her side. Viserys along with his pregnant wife rivalled Rhaenys's claim. Despite the fondness the princess held for her cousin she despised him in this moment. She had more of a claim than Viserys but men would sooner put the realm to the torch than crown a woman.

The little girl was seated in her own little throne next to the King, she watching curiously the people before her. The soft giggles of his granddaughter brought Jaehaerys a moment of peace in this troubling moment. He was overly fond of his granddaughter, a sweet and charming babe she was, she reminded him of his first daughter, Daenerys.

In the end, the lords in the realm saw the most importance in having the male line taking precedence over the female line. While the maesters never revealed the actual numbers, it was rumored that Prince Viserys had won by a twenty to one vote.

Begrudgingly Rhaenys's supporters accepted the great council's choice. The realm decided to name Viserys the heir to the Iron Throne and prince of Dragonstone.

...

101 AC Red Keep

The wise King Jaehaerys threw a great feast in honour of his granddaughters eight name day. No expense was spared, lords from all over the realm gathered in king's landing to attend the celebration.

Little y/n watched curiously from her grandfather's lap. Her little fingers playing with the material of the King's attire.

The king held fondness in his heart for his granddaughter. A happy and lively girl. So much unlike Gael, who cried restlessly. He smiled at the memory of his late daughters.

The six year old clumsily played with her food, she stared at her grandsire and the court before them.

The celebration continued lords and ladies danced, drank and ate their fill. It was almost after the hour of the owl that the guests began to return to their chambers.

"Come little princess, I must show you something."

The old king summoned the commander of the King's guard ser Gyles Morrigen, and ordered a carriage to be prepared at once.

"Your grace it is unwise for you to leave the keep at this time." Ser Gyles said unsure.

"I will hear none of it." The king muttered and the carriage took off towards the dragopit.

The little princess awoke once the carriage stopped at the gates of the dragonpit. She looked around curiously and looked back at her grandsire.

"Zaldrīzes!" The little girl mumbled holding onto the king's clothes. The king nodded and led them to where his steed the bronze fury rested. (Dragons)

"Bring Vermithor." The King ordered the stationed dragon keepers. The bronze fury lazily stepped out of the dragonpit "Issa jorrāelagon raqiros" (my dear friend)

The large beast looked at his rider than at the little girl next to the old King. In turn the girl let go of her grandsire's hand and took confident steps towards the dragon. The King watched curiously, nobody has ever dared to approach his steed with such confidence.

"Mithor!" The girl said, her chubby hands clapped. The bronze fury looked curiously at the little human before him. He laid his large head on the ground next to the baby. "Mithor" The girl repeated, as she was one step away from the beast. With no hesitance, she laid her head on the dragons snout, lightly petting his once shiny scales.

The king looked at the scene before him in awe. The blood of old Valyria was strong in his little princess, a future dragon lord he thought. Just like Aegon the conqueror has been. He watched as his granddaughter talked and petted the bronze fury. His body ached yet he smiled, moments passed in serene silence. But the pain soon became unbearable for the old King.

"Come y/n, we must return." The king said interrupting the bonding of his steed with his grandchild. The girl run up to him obediently, petting Vermithor one last time. The king took little y/n by her hand and returned to the carriage.

"You my grandchild may not have been what was desired but you are no less dear to me." He said to the child "Once I pass your brother will inherit the crown but you my little princess will claim Vermithor. You will make house Targaryen stronger than it has ever been."

...

"Grandsire can you tell me a story?" You pleaded sitting on Jaehaerys's bed, the king smiled.

"What would you wish to hear?" He asked quietly, his voice raspy and hoarse.

"What was grandsire Aegon like?"

"Oh sweet child... I was your age when he died. My father your great grandsire Aenys became King but he wasn't well loved."

"Then your uncle Maegor took the throne after his death." You said quietly.

"Yes, he usurped my elder brother Aegon. But many didn't think that Maegor's accession as treason, they were worried that my brother would be a weak king like our father." Jaehaerys said reminiscing his past "He was King for five years, until his mysterious death."

"Mysterious?" You questioned staring up at your grandsire's face from his lap.

"In the same day as Lord Rogar Baratheon declared me King, Maegor died impaled by the swords of the Iron Throne." The king said "Many believe that the Iron Throne is capable of killing anyone unfit of it."

"Have you ever been cut, grandfather?" You asked curiously.

"I have not, no."

"Was Aegon rejected by the throne?" Your grandsire let out a chuckle and shook his head.

"Aegon built it sweet girl. He was the one that conquered the seven kingdoms."

"Except of Dorne." You added.

"That is true, but we have won four wars against Dorne." Your grandsire noticed you were not convinced "What would you do to bring Dorne under our rule?"

You perked up at his question and thought for a moment.

"War has done nothing to bring Dorne into the seven kingdoms, perhaps a marriage would be more successful." Jaehaerys raised his long silver eyebrows.

"Who would you offer to Dorne?" He questioned curiously.

"Princess Mara has a son Qoren, I would offer an engagement to him as he is the next Prince of Dorne."

"Would you marry him?"

"If it would aid your rule grandfather then yes." You stated confidently.

"Even if you have never met him?"

You nodded cautiously.

"I can get to know him..."

"If you wish I could invite him to court." You smiled and laid down on his lap. "Your great great grandsire would be very proud of you, too smart for your own good."

You smiled up at the wise King as he caressed your hair.

"He was charismatic yet commanding, but many did not know him. His only friend was Orys Baratheon his half-brother. He spoke to my elder brothers Aegon and Viserys and myself of the conquest, of Old Valyria and the Dragonlords before him."

"Like Gaemon the Glorious?" You asked curiously

"Yes sweet girl, in 114 before the conquest he along with his father Aenar and Daenys the dreamer came to Westeros before the doom of old Valyria."

"I wish to know what Valyria was like." You murmured thinking of the ancient civilisation.

"Valyria was filled with Dragonlords, Targaryens were one of the minor houses that populated the peninsula. But through dreams we became the most powerful house in the known world."

As your grandsire told you stories of your ancestors sleep began to take over you.

...

In a month Prince Qoren arrived in the Red Keep, you were giddy to meet the boy. You stood behind your brothers as they welcomed him in the royal courtyard. A blush appeared on your cheeks as you saw the future Prince of Dorne.

"Your highnesses." He bowed his head as he approached you all with his entourage. Rhaenyra giggled as she saw the blush appear on your features.

"Hush." You whispered to her, she snuck out her tongue.

Qoren was not a lot older than you, only five years. Despite being only one and ten he was a handsome boy. Your grandsire to ill to receive his new guest stayed in his chambers, opting for meeting the prince during supper.

"It is a pleasure to be meeting you Prince Qoren." Viserys said, his wife Aemma standing beside him.

"His Grace has invited you to supper this evening." Aemma said leaning on Viserys's shoulder. The boy nodded and smiled.

"A great honour, thank you your highnesses."

You smiled at his charm, you couldn't wait for the supper to begin so you could meet the prince and get to know him.

Daemon however didn't seem too pleased with the Dornishman's presence, he scowled at the prince. You giggled at your brother's obvious resentment towards a boy almost ten years younger. Rhaenyra however was pleased with a new face in court.

"What do you think of him?" Rhaenyra whispered to your ear as Qoren was led away by servants to his new chambers.

"I have not even met him, therefore I cannot say."

"I bet you look forward to meeting him though." She cheekily answered placing her head on your shoulder, you giggled and nodded. Daemon's scowl seemed to grow even bigger.

Quickly hours passed and your maids appeared to dress you. A pale purple dress with wide sleeves and embroidered silver dragons at the side. You smiled gleefully as the maids tied the gown on you. Soon ser Ryam Redwyne knocked on the doors of your chambers to escort you. You smiled seeing the dark haired knight.

"Princess." He bowed his head

"Ser Redwyne." You answered a wide smile on your face "I hope you are doing well."

"With your presence princess I am." The knight answered and led you to the small council chamber where the supper was to take place.

The walk through Maegor's holdfast was quick and quaint, the spare nobles and servants bowed as you walked by them.

You saw that only your grandsire was present, you skipped towards him and placed a kiss on his wrinkled cheek. He smiled seeing you.

"Good morrow y/n" Jaehaerys said placing his bony hand on your silver locks affectionately.

"Where is everyone?" You asked sitting on his left.

"I have asked them to come later." His grace answered and you nodded "I wish to ask you something sweet girl... Do you want to marry?"

You looked a bit dumbfounded at your grandsire.

"One day, as is my duty." You answered

"Your grandmother was the one to arrange marriages for half the realm, I think she would support my intuition... I wish to know what you think of Prince Qoren once the supper is over."

"Certainly." You mumbled your conversation was cut short as the room began to fill. Viserys and his family along with Daemon, the small council along with Rhaenys and her family the last to enter was Prince Qoren himself. He sat next to you as was the King's desire.

"Princess y/n" Qoren said as glanced at you.

"Prince Qoren it is nice to meet you" You mumbled a bit shy. The curly haired boy smiled your way.

"You look very beautiful, princess." He said, a small smile on his lips.

"Thank you, you look very handsome yourself."

Jaehaerys smiled seeing his favourite grandchild happy and laughing. Soon the servants arrived with various dishes ranging from roasted pigs to pies. The cups were full of wine and laughter echoed through the small council chamber.

"Perhaps we could visit the gardens on the morrow?" Qoren asked quietly, you nodded and smiled.

"I would enjoy that very much." You answered, you said your goodbyes with the prince as he returned to your chambers. Feeling a bit tired yourself you decided to retire. The adults drank and laughed.

You laid comfortably in the canopy bed, the cool breeze of spring caressed your covered body. As you were drifting off to sleep you heard shuffling, you glanced around your room the search for the source of the noise.

"Rhaenyra?" You asked as the princess climbed into your bed. "What are you doing here? You should be in your chambers, it is late."

"Do you like him?" Rhaenyra teased and a blush appeared on your cheeks.

"Do I like who?" You answered evading her question. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. You sighed admitting defeat.

"He is nice." You mumbled playing with your fingers. The silver haired princess smiled at your answer.

"Grandsire will be pleased then." Rhaenyra murmured "He found you a husband without much difficulty."

"I am too young to marry Rhaenyra..!" You whispered angrily.

"But you want to marry him if you do then you will become Princess y/n of Dorne!" She sang jumping on your bed.

"What if I want to marry him?"

"Marriage is boring, boys are boring!" She said her brows furrowed and a scowl appeared on her face. "You should stay with me, we would eat cake and listen to songs and dance!"

"But it won't be that way..." You said sadly "Sooner or later you and I will have to marry and produce children."

"I will never ever have children!" Rhaenyra stated crossing her arms as she sat in front of you. "The babies in mama's belly never come and that makes mama and papa sad."

"If you say so Rhaenyra." You said sadly stroking the realm's delight hair. She leaned into your touch and laid next to you, quickly falling asleep. It soon became a habit that Rhaenyra slept in your chambers instead of her own. You did not mind, at night it was awfully quiet in the Red Keep and you felt alone.

"I envy you..." You whispered when you made sure that the silver haired princess fell asleep.

You awoke early the sun was barely over the horizon, Rhaenyra sprawled herself all over your bed. You sighed and covered the girl with blankets and left her to sleep.

The castle was quiet, not wanting to bother your maids you dressed yourself. A burgundy dress with gold vines embroidered on the corsage, the sleeves reached your elbows but the material continued.

Perhaps after breaking fast with your grandsire, you will walk the garden's with Qoren. It was a pleasant thought, at your door stood ser Clement Crabb.

"Ser Clement." You said "Could you please escort me to my grandsire?" You asked politely at the elder knight.

"Of course, princess." He said and walked ahead through Maegor's holdfast.

"y/n?" Jaehaerys asked from his bed as you entered his chambers, the smell of incense abused your nose.

"Good morrow, grandfather." You said happily and skipped towards the old King. "Ser Clement could you ask for breakfast to be brought?"

The knight nodded and left the chambers.

"You seem happy." Jaehaerys stated, as you helped him sit up in his bed, placing sating pillows behind his back.

"I am excited yes. I am to spend the afternoon with Prince Qoren."

"Ah, yes..." The King nodded and smiled. "What do you think of him? Is he worthy?"

"He is... clever and thoughtful." Your voice was thin "I hope to get to know him better today. But I do enjoy his presence and look forward to the stroll."

"That is good, sweet girl. He should be honoured merely by your presence."

"Grandsire!" You chuckled at his grace's boldness.

"I know it will be some time till you are eligible to marry but I wish to give you the choice of a suitor. Gods know that forcing a Targaryen to marry only brings misery."

"Is that why you married grandmother?"

"Precisely little dragon, our mother tried to marry her off to Orryn Baratheon hearing this she came to me and we fled to Dragonstone and wed." Jaehaerys reminisced about the past, the happiest days of his life were spent on Dragonstone with Alysanne.

The servants arrived with plates of fruits and cheeses, oatmeal and pies. Ser Ryam Redwyne helped your grandsire sit in a chair on the balcony of his chambers. You laughed as you ate occasionally helping his grace.

"Your Grace." The Kingsguard interrupted, you stared curiously at the famed knight. "Prince Qoren is here." Jaehaerys nodded and the Dornish man entered.

"Prince Qoren come." He asked and the prince obliged taking a seat on your left. "My granddaughter is very fond of pomegranates... I assume that they grow abundantly in Dorne."

"Oh yes, your grace. After all Dorne is the main export of exotic fruits." The dark haired prince answered a confident smile on his lips. You caught on, your grandsire was a very smart man.

"Grandsire, I think that the fruits that grow in Dorne are not his biggest interest." You mused cutting a piece of a fruit pie.

"As the future prince of Dorne I must be well aquainted with the land I will rule. That includes the fruit." He jested, the king smiled and chuckled. Your Grandsire quickly tiered himself, you helped him to his bed as the servants took away the plates.

"Please help yourself to the leftovers." You said to the servants, they nodded thankfully and left. "Prince Qoren shall we walk to the gardens?"

"As you wish princess." He responded and took you by the arm and you walked to Rhaenys's gardens escorted by Ser Clement.

"Thank you for sparing me the time of day, your highness." Qoren spoke glancing at you with his brown orbs.

"You do not need to be so modest, my prince."

"It is not everyday I get to be graced with the presence of a princess of the realm." You smiled bashfully at Qoren.

"You are too kind."

"I cannot help it, you are perfection itself." Qoren said

"Should I be like my aunt Viserra and simply agree?" You jested, the dark haired boy chuckled.

"I would not blame you princess."

You strolled comfortably through the gardens of the red keep. The prince proved to be wonderful company, charming and funny.

"Your Highness I know that we are much too young." The prince began taking your hand in his "But I would be honoured if you considered me as a potential husband." A bit appaled and flustered you simply nodded. The prince smiled bashfully and kissed your hand.

A few letters were exchanged between King Jaehaerys and Princess Mara. The fruit of these negotiations became the betrothal of Prince Qoren Martell and Princess y/n Targaryen. If the pair were to conceive a child, Dorne would officially become a part of the seven Kingdoms. Without war or conquest the wise King, the Conciliator managed to complete the work of his grandsire. But it wouldn't happen if it weren't for his beloved grandchild, princess y/n.

Prince Qoren stayed at court for many moons but word has spread that his mother Princess Mara has fallen ill. Worried for his mother he decided to return back to the south. Tears glossed over your eyes as you learnt that Qoren had to leave.

"Do not cry princess." He said as you stared bitterly at the ground.

"I am not crying." You stubbornly said, Qoren laughed at your words.

"I will see you soon, y/n."

"Promise me you'll be back." You whispered taking the boys hand, a small smile appeared on his thin lips.

"I promise." He said and placed a kiss to your cheek, tears dropped from your red orbs as you engulfed Qoren into a hug. "We will marry soon princess and then I will never leave your side."

"Promise it! Promise it on the old Gods and the new." You said strongly into his chest.

"I Prince Qoren of House Martell, future Prince of Dorne promise by the old Gods and the new that we will marry and that I will never leave your side until the stranger comes."

"I Princess y/n of House Targaryen, promise by the old Gods and the new that I will be by your side until the stranger comes." You said your vows after letting Qoren go.

"Goodbye, princess." He whispered and pressed a kiss against your forehead.

You watched as he climbed on his sand steed, salty tears stained your cheeks as you watched him leave.

...

102 AC Red Keep

When the bells rung, maids and guards kept y/n away from her grandsire's chambers.

The king is dead.

Tears flowed from the red orbs of the Targaryen Princess. The halls around her felt suffocating, silence rang in her ears. She stared intently at the doors of her grandsire's chambers.

y/n ran from the stench of death and yet it followed her. The cold feeling of the stranger hot on her tail. Before she knew it, her feet had taken her to the stables. She quickly jumped on a horse that was closest to her. Without a saddle she galloped through the busy streets of King's Landing. Even in the hour of the eel, the laughter of whores and lords echoed through the city.

Tears streamed down y/n's ample cheeks. She saw the dome of the dragonpit. Easily evading the dragon keepers she snuck into the many caves of the structure, easily finding her way to the bronze fury. It was as if she was simply following after a thread. Knowing where he was despite not stepping a foot in the dragon pit before.

"Vermithor?" y/n asked looking around the vast cave littered with bones, a deep grumble made her turn her gaze. The bronze fury rested on the ground, his nostrils expelled smoke. The dragon instantly stared at the girl before him. Without a second though she threw herself at Vermithor's snout petting his horns.

"māzigon, ivestragī īlva sōvegon hēnkirī" y/n pleaded her cheek pressed against his bronze scales. Vermithor roared, one wing moved then the other, his maw opened and closed. y/n looked expectantly at the bronze fury. When the beast lowered his head in her direction she smiled and climbed atop of the old steed of her grandsire. (come, let us fly together)

"Ivestragī's jikagon, Vermithor!" The dragon roared and rised from his position moving expertly among the many corridors of the dragonpit. When the light of the moon reached her eyes she laughed excitedly. Taking Vermithors reins and deepening her seat in the brown and gold saddle. "Sōves, Vermithor!" (Let's go! Fly!)

The beast roared and spread his wings, taking flight. The dragon keepers shouted and exclaimed as they noticed the bronze fury leaving the dragonpit, atop his back the little princess laughed and smiled at the people under her. The dragon took off and y/n screamed with happiness.

Grandsire I have done what you told me. I have claimed Vermithor.

While the bells rung signalising King's Jaehaerys's death the city watched as the bronze fury circled the Red Keep. Golden fire escaping it's maw.

...

The body of the wise and beloved King Jaehaerys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm laid wrapped in cloth at the burning pyre. Vermithor looked on from the hills at the royal funeral. The high Septon said his prayers in honour of the late King. Thousands of nobles and small folk gathered to witness the funereal of the beloved King.

"May he rest with his sister wife Queen Alysanne and their many children. The god's blessed their union and King Jaehaerys's rule. We are surrounded by the fruits of his labour."

y/n looked on with sad eyes at the pyre before her. The body of her beloved grandsire wrapped in cloth. Her gaze travelled from her cousins to her brothers. She examined their saddened expressions. Then she looked at the bronze fury, he too looked sad, his dark eyes focused on the corpse of his former rider.

"y/n, my sweet it is time." The new Queen Aemma whispered to her sister in law. The seven year old looked at the silver haired woman and nodded. The little princess let go of Rhaenyra hand and stepped forward.

"Dracarys"

Vermithor roared and his throat begun to bubble with fire. The dragon breathed at the pyre. The flames delicately caressed y/n cheek, the same way Jaehaerys used to do. Salty tears flowed from the red eyes of the little princess.

The princess y/n Targaryen became the youngest dragon rider in recorded history. On the same night as her grandsire passed she secretly mounted the bronze fury at just eight years of age. This only shows the bond that y/n held with the dragon. -From the dragon bringer by the feather and quill of Grand Maester Roland.

#aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #house targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targeryan #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targeryan #rhaenys velaryon #qoren martell #baelon targaryen #gael targaryen #jaehaerys targaryen #alysanne targaryen #a dance with dragons #hotd #hotd season 2 #hotd x reader

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hikarimiyanaga · 4 months ago

Text

The Queen's Bride (Part 4)

Warnings : Omegaverse. Stark!Reader. Omega!Reader x Alpha!Daenerys Targaryen. Modern!AU.

Taglist : @kelloggs4cereal

You pace around the mansion's living room.

Even though you had class today, you opted to skip in order to know Sansa's second gender first. Your sister is more important than anything else.

"Mom! I- Y/N! You're back?" You smile at her.

"Yeah, just for a bit. How did your test go?"

"Beta. I am a beta." You sigh in relief and hug her tight.

"Good for you, my baby sis!"

"What- I'm not a baby." She pushes you away.

"Sansa, you are to me. Tonight, we celebrate! I'm taking everyone to your favorite restaurant!"

"With dad's money?" You wink at her.

"My own."

The truth was, you and Tyrion have a lucrative business. You guys help high school students cheat. It wasn't an ethical business but it did fill your pocket and secret bank account.

It also helps that your father has given you free reign on your allowance that is refilled monthly.

As you promised, you did take everyone except your mother, father and Robb as they were all busy.

"So what is the occasion, big sis? Why take us here?" Rickon asks and you smile at him.

"This is for your big sis's freedom!" You grim then turn to Sansa. "At least you get to have decisions regarding your marriage and your course. Do not choose any of the Lannisters even if they offer. I will kill you in your sleep."

"How about the Targaryens?"

"No. I'm already marrying one of them."

"Theon?" Arya asks innocently and both you and Sansa gag.

"Ew. We grew up with him. Borderline incest."

"Then who?" Sansa asks and you grin.

"Grow old without anyone."

"Y/N!" She slaps your arm and you laugh.

"Just stop looking at Westeros' Nobility and we're good."

"Are you oppose to any second gender?" You shake your head at that.

"No. Choose anyone you like."

"Okay." She leans on your shoulder and you pat her head.

"Come on, Sansa, order up. I can pay for everything if you want."

"No. Just because we brought Arya doesn't mean we can eat everything." You chuckle then turn to the other three.

"Choose anything you guys like, okay?"

"Even dessert?" Rickon asks, clearly excited.

"Yes. But that's after a meal. Eat up first."

"Okay!" Rickon says as he scans the menu.

It was an eventful evening. You had fun with all of them before all of you went home to the Stark Mansion.

You came inside carrying an asleep Rickon, a very sleepy Arya, and a barely awake Bran. Thankfully, Sansa is still awake.

"Looks like you guys had fun." Robb greets you and you roll your eyes at him.

"Too bad, you weren't there. Jerk." He laughs at that.

"Hey, someone had to man the company."

"Sure, you did." You carry Rickon up to their room while dragging Bran. "Bran, just a few more steps, okay? I'll help you guys change into pajamas."

"Thanks, sis." You sigh in relief as you reach their room and deposit Rickon in his bed.

"Come on, dude. Toothbrush then change. I'll help you find your clothes." Bran nods at that then he goes in the bathroom. You get their change of clothes and place Bran's on his bed. Then you carefully changed Rickon's clothes. Bran finishes up in the bathroom and changes into pajamas. He yawns loudly and smiles at you.

"Thanks for the fun night, sis. Goodnight."

"You're welcome, Bran. Goodnight." You kiss his forehead and tuck him in. "Sweet dreams, little brother." Bran sleeps with a smile on his face. You go downstairs and see a now sleeping Arya on the couch.

"Hey. Who are you texting?" You ask Sansa as you carry Arya.

"Margaery. She's also a beta." You hum.

"The Tyrells, huh?"

"Yeah. She's asking about you too." You raise an eyebrow at her.

"Me????"

"Yeah. You're taking knightho-" you cover her mouth and frown.

"Stop. Father doesn't know. Your room. Now." Sansa nods and goes to her room while you carry Arya to hers. You tuck her in quickly and go to Sansa's room.

"Dad doesn't know?" You shake your head as you close the door.

"Mom doesn't either. They both think that I'm only taking management."

"Why are you hiding it from them?"

"Because they only want management for me." You sigh as you sit besides her.

"Why?"

"Because I'm a weak omega." Sansa tilts her head at that.

"Weak? You?" You nod at her. "Does mom and dad need glasses????" You chuckle at her comment and pat her head.

"Everyone keeps thinking that omegas are only good for well-"

"Breeding?" You glare at her. "What? Margaery told me."

"Do not ever say that word again. Got it?" Sansa nods. "But pretty much, yeah. Why do you think one of the Targaryens are willing to marry me?"

"Because you're awesome?" You shake your head at her. "Omega?" You nod and smile at her sadly. Sansa has never seen you so sad.

"An omega from one of the noble families is considered a rarity. After all, Alpha and Beta bloods are much stronger. So they fought for me."

"Is that why you didn't want me to be an omega?" You nod at her.

"It's much better to be married by love than by being a trophy." You couldn't help the tear as it fell from your eye. Sansa panics now. You're her big sister and she has never seen you cry, not even when you get scolded by Ned or Catelyn. "I'm okay." You assure her as you wipe your tear. "Father might choose someone for you but I'll fight him every step of the way, okay? You, Arya, Rickon and Bran deserve freedom."

"What if they become omegas too?"

"By then, I'll be a Targaryen so-" you sit beside her. "So I can protect them." Sansa hugs you and you hug her back.

"I'll choose someone good, sis." You smile then kiss her head.

"That's all I want, little sister."

You get back to your class the next day.

Oberyn raises an eye at you.

"Did you get fucked all day yesterday?" You glare at him as you sit.

"Do tell, how the hell did you get into that conclusion?"

"Well, you've been wearing that outfit since two days ago." You look down and realize that he was right.

"Yesterday was Sansa's result day."

"Oohh. Do the Starks have another omega?" Oberyn says loud enough and almost everyone in the class looks at the both of you. Everyone here wants to know if there is another omega from the Starks that'll be fought for by every noble house in Westeros.

"No, dear loud mouth." You pinch his arm, pretty annoyed by him. "She's a beta." Everyone else looks away when they hear the disappointing news. Oberyn slaps your hand away and you glare at him.

"You must be relieved then?" You nod.

"So much."

"Congrats on her freedom, then." You smile as you nod then you bring out your notebook for the class.

You were about to go home when Daenerys sees you and takes you away. You look confused as she just looks at her phone.

"Where are we going?"

"Gala."

"Huh?"

"It's one of the Baratheon's birthday or something. The daughter of the eldest?"

"You mean Shireen?"

"You know her?"

"I met her before. Why are you going? Aren't the Baratheons your enemies?" You recall the bad blood between them.

"Still, I have a responsibility. Or did you really think the "heir" will come?"

"Ah. Okay. But I have nothi-"

"We'll pick up a suit and dress on the mall."

"You thought of everything." You deadpan at her and Daenerys smiles at you.

"You can't escape."

You arrive at the Baratheon's villa and unbutton the collar of your suit. It was suffocating the air out of you.

"We're here." You help Daenerys out of the car and hum.

"Do we have an invitation? the Baratheons can be picky about their guests." You still remember the one time you attended a gala of theirs without Robb and they rudely kicked you out.

"I am a Targary-"

"Yeah, that won't work here." Daenerys was about to refute you when-

"Y/N!" Someone calls out and you were suddenly lifted off.

"Ah! Uncle Robert!?" You struggle against the big man and glare as you find your footing.

"It is you!" Robert slaps your back and you feel like your spine broke. Jeez, the strength of this man.

"Yes. I didn't know it was Shireen's birthday today."

"It is. One of the reasons why I came home."

"What? Are the brothels not treating you well?"

"Ah, this jerk!" He slaps the back of your head and you rub it in pain.

"Y/N. Who-"

"Ah, this must be Daenerys! Your fiancé, right?"

"She is." You admit and sigh. "Daenerys meet Robert Baratheon. Unmarried. Although he has countless kids. Commander of The Baratheon Forces. And my father's best friend." Robert laughs at your introduction.

"Nice addition of titles, young one. You learned well."

"Is Gendry okay? He should be in high school, right?" Gendry and Shireen were the cousins from the Baratheon that you didn't mind talking to.

"He is. He likes Sansa, did you know?" You pale at that. As much as Gendry was a good person, you still didn't like the thought of high school romance, specially when it involves one of your younger siblings. "Maybe we'll finally be family!" He laughs wholeheartedly while you politely nod.

"We should get inside." Daenerys can feel that you are uncomfortable with the current topic so she tugs your arm.

"Right. It was nice talking to you, Uncle."

"Go. Tell your father that I will see him soon." You nod at him and escort Daenerys to the door.

"Sorry about that." You open the door and Daenerys just nods.

"So you're pretty close with the Baratheons?"

"No. Only Uncle Robert. He's kind of seen as a separate entity."

"And why is that? He is the middle child, is he not?"

"True, but he doesn't like to be in the family mansion. Or be associated with his siblings that much."

"Why?" You shrug at her.

"I don't know the particular details but some say bad blood between the three."

"I see."

"Y/N!" Shireen runs through the crowd and hugs you.

"Hi, cousin. Happy Birthday."

"Yeah! Although you did celebrate with me two days ago."

"Yeah. But I also got dragged to this gala." Shireen giggles.

"Who dragged you?"

"Hi there. I'm Daenerys. Her fiancé." Shireen looks at you.

"Fiancé? But Y/N! You promised me." Shireen gets teary-eyed and you panic.

"Huh!? Wait, wait, don't cry? Shireen? What promise?"

"That I'd be the one you married!" You chuckle and ruffl her hair.

"Not happening, little cousin, and besides we had a condition, didn't we?"

"Yeah." She sulks and crosses her arms.

"And? What was it?"

"That you'll only do it when you're a beta."

"Good girl!" You ruffle her hair even more and she pouts at you.

"Do you like her?" Shireen points at Daenerys as if she wasn't there and you chuckle as you bring down her hand.

"Yes. Incredibly so." And you realize as you say it, that it was the half-truth. You fell in love with her at first sight but you also knew why she wanted to get married to you.

"Then, uh-, Daenerys!" You beckon her closer as Shireen holds out her hand.

"You win! But um- don't you dare break Y/N's heart!" Dany forces a smile on her face as she shakes Shireen's hand.

"I promise."

The gala ends around midnight and you take off your jacket as you board Dany's Limousine.

"Not close to the Baratheons?" She asks and you nod.

"Not really. Shireen is special. She's the only one in that mansion that doesn't have a malice bone in her body."

"Do you like her?"

"As a cousin, yes. She's inquisitive and a reader like me."

"Are you in love with her?" You look at Daenerys with a dumfounded expression and she glares at you. "Answer me!"

"The fuck? No! Not at all! She's my little cousin, for the gods' sake!"

"We all know how famili-"

"Do not even say it. It's making me feel disgusted." You shudder as you even think about hearing the word.

"So, do you like someone?" You raise an eyebrow at her.

"What?"

"Like- you want to date them or something." You shake your head.

"None at all. Being an omega meant everything was going to be chosen for me. Even the people I hang out with. No more betas or Alphas. No more close friends. Just need to find me a suitable fiancé." You successfully hide the bitter tone in your voice but not the way you clenched your fist.

Daenerys, thankfully, stop questioning you and just drop you off at your apartment building.

'As if I ever had a choice.' You think as you board the elevator. 'I wonder how that'll be.'

A/N:

AS PROMISED!! YAY!!

Writer's block defeated once again... For how long, I don't know.

Also, I got a job! So that's cool!

#daenerys targaryen x reader #game of thrones x reader #omegaverse #omegaverse fanfic #daenerys stormborn #daenerys targaryen

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megsironthrone · 1 year ago

Text

More Than Any Throne

Based on this request: may i request a ramsay bolton x targaryen! reader? they are opposites since she is fire and he is ice and she is kind while he is well.. ramsay. he comes to essos to request her help in conquering the north (much like yara came to daenerys) and they end up ruling side by side, and ramsay doesn’t anticipate it but he actually loves her more than the throne?

Here you are! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!*

Warnings: None??

Pairings/Characters: Ramsay Bolton x fem!Targaryen reader

Ramsay stared up at you as you sat on your throne. For a queen of fire, you regarded him with such an icy expression it almost made him shiver. "I have heard of you, Lord Bolton. Of your betrayal of the Starks and the Greyjoys. I have heard of the murder of your father by your hand. Word of your horrible deeds has spread far and wide. I see no reason to trust you, especially not enough to form an alliance."

Ramsay knew he had to say something and quickly before you had his head. He was nothing if not quick-witted. "Queen Y/N, I too have heard of you. Tales of your kindness and compassion have reached far across the Great Sea to Westeros. I know my reputation. Even if I should gain the Iron Throne, the people would not accept me. I would be assassinated the moment the crown was on my head." You arched a brow.

"You aren't exactly helping your case, Lord Bolton. Flattery may work on my sister and most definitely would have worked on my brother, but I am not them. Why should I not let you return to Westeros for your, most likely, inevitable assassination then cross the sea to take the throne for myself?"

"Because then the people of Westeros would believe that you too are cruel. What sort of queen allows a potential ally to run to his death when she could stop it? That is what the people would say. Together, we could rule side-by-side. You would be returned to your rightful home as the true heir to the Iron Throne and the people would love you. And you can sway them in my favor as well. If the kind Targaryen queen could love the ruthless, mad dog Lord Bolton, there must be some good in him. They would accept and follow us both as their rulers. But I cannot-" Ramsay cut himself off for a moment. He hated sounding so weak, but he needed to do this. "I cannot do this alone. I need someone like you by my side."

You let out a huff. "Prostrating yourself before me does not suit the 'Mad Dog', Lord Bolton. Once again, your words of flattery mean nothing to me." Ramsay felt himself growing frustrated. You were supposed to be swayed by him, but you weren't. You showed nothing toward him except amusement.

It grew quiet in the hall as your Hand whispered in your ear. You hummed and nodded slightly. For a few moments, you watched him as Ramsay grew more and more irate. It was becoming difficult to keep his temper in check. After a while, you hummed again. "You've amused me, Lord Bolton. That's not an easy feat. I will consider your proposition and inform you of my decision in the morning. You are free to explore Essos, with an escort, of course. Or you may choose to retire to the chambers I keep for visiting nobility. Until morning." With that, you stood and swept from the room, leaving Ramsay utterly confused and, maybe a little bit impressed.

The next morning, Ramsay entered the dining hall to find you already waiting for him. He bowed to you and you smiled at him. "Lord Bolton," you greeted with a warmth that had been missing the day before. Once again, Ramsay was utterly confounded by you. You sipped your drink before speaking again as Ramsay sat down. "Though your proposal was…ridiculous, to say the least, I accept." Ramsay blinked stupidly for a moment.

"What?"

"I will sail to Westeros with you and rule, as equals, by your side." Ramsay began to smile, but you continued, "Know this, however. If you betray me in any way, I will destroy you. Bear in mind that my sister is not the only Targaryen with dragons. My reputation may be one of kindness and compassion, but I will answer betrayal and harm with ruin." This time, Ramsay did smile.

*time skip*

Ramsay glanced at you across the table as you broke your fast together one morning. The stress of ruling over Westeros had done nothing but enhance your beauty. If possible, you had grown more confident, stronger, and intelligent since coming over from Essos. You lead the people compassionately and held Ramsay's temper back whenever possible. People respected you and feared him and the dragons. It worked well for you and Ramsay, to his surprise, found himself caring more for you than for the throne he'd fought for.

"You're staring, Husband," you stated, hardly looking up from the scroll in front of you. "Am I not allowed to look at my wife? My queen?" You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "I am only your wife and queen because you wanted the throne and knew there was no other way to get it. So either you're forming some devious plan, or you've come to the realization that you've fallen in love with me."

Ramsay blinked in surprise. The man had prided himself on keeping any and all emotions under wraps. Did he love you? He had his throne, but would he give it up for you? Yes. In a heartbeat, he would. Did that mean he, for the first time in his life, was actually in love?

A soft laugh from you broke Ramsay from his thoughts. He looked at you again. "Did you think you were hiding? Ramsay, my darling, you forget that I have been able to see right through you from the moment we met." You pushed your chair back and rose to your feet. As you passed by Ramsay, you placed a hand on his shoulder. "There is nothing wrong with admitting that you're in love, Ramsay." You squeezed him lightly before moving to leave the room. Ramsay stood and turned to watch you leave. "Oh, and Ramsay?" you called over your shoulder, "I love you too." Ramsay stood still for a moment as his brain processed what you'd said. Once he snapped out of it, he was instantly running after you, intent on spending the rest of the day getting you to ignore your duties and spend time with him.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @etherealpotter @line-viper @cd1242 @frozenhuntress67 @smalltownbigheart @gruffle1 @supernatural4life2022 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

#game of thrones #george r.r. martin #ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay x reader

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 2 years ago

Text

The Most Impossible Battle

Pairing: Young Robert Baratheon x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: soft dubcon, NSFW, gradual consent, rough sex

Words: 3020

Summary: Robert hated all Targaryens. Wise words from those close to him though make Robert Baratheon give in to the idea of taking (y/n) Targaryen as his bride.

By the Gods Robert, have mercy on the girl.” Ned pleaded but was immediately shut up by Robert’s roaring voice.

“Mercy?! MERCY?! Did that Targaryen whore’s brother show your sister mercy when he raped her?!! The Targaryen don’t deserve mercy Ned!” Young and callous, Robert Baratheon’s beautiful blue eyes were now tainted with his fury and anger. He stood a few inches higher above the his Stark brother. Even with that fact, Ned refused to stand down on the matter.

With a stone face, he goes on “Her brother is to blame. She has done nothing wrong.”

That made Robert scoff. “Except let the others escape. She’s fully aware of her family’s guilt. Have you so quickly forgotten what her father had done to your brother and father? The whole family is taint and should be eradicated.”

Yes, young (y/n) Targaryen had made sure her younger siblings were well out of harms way. At the moment she had been captured she had sent her younger brother Viserys and newborn sister Daenerys away on a cargo ship. To where, she refused to say. Brave, Ned admired that much about the girl. In that moment he was reminded so much of Lyanna. Brave, beautiful and stubborn.

Ned couldn’t let Robert execute her. He didn’t want anymore blood shed thanks to this stupid war.

He gives Jon Arryn a sideways glance, asking for his help. Jon Arryn, Lord of the Vale, purses his lips together for a moment. “Think rationally Robert.” The older man did always have a way in reining him in. Both men viewed him as a surrogate father and in that aspect resonated a great deal of respect. “Even though there were a great deal of people who hated Aerys, there an even greater many who loved Rhaegar and (y/n). Those supporters are already upset at the death of Rhaegar, as deserving as it was. But (y/n)? She’s but a sweet maid who has done nothing. Those families might do something hasty if you were to execute her.”

“Then I’ll kill them. I’m king now and if a see someone that isn’t obedient I can surely have them executed. The whole lot of those Targaryen loving scum.” Spitting he stomps over to a large window to look over his new dominion of King’s Landing. Hands splayed on the windowsill he glares out over the city.

“Be reasonable Robert.” Jon tries again. “That will just earn you more resentment from the people you now govern. Otherwise you’d be just like Aerys.”

That made Robert’s broad shoulders go rigid. The last thing he wanted was to be compared to the Targaryen king. No, he didn’t want to be anything like Aerys. “Then what do you suggest I do with the girl?”

The room was quiet for a moment, as if Jon was afraid to even say the solution. One encouraging look from Ned gave him the strength he needed. “Marry her.”

Ned gaped at the Arryn lord, he hadn’t been expecting that as a solution.

Robert spun on his heel, dark mane of hair flying as he did so. “Marry her? Have you lost your mind?!”

“Not as much as you have.” Jon speaks truthfully, staring down the young man who used to be his ward. “Think about it Robert. If you marry her, then those who still support the Targaryens will have no choice but to support you. She’s well loved among the people. That would give you good reception, having her as your bride.”

Gritting his teeth, his blue eyes narrow. “No. Never. I will never marry her. It would be a disgrace upon the memory of Lyanna. Lyanna was who I was supposed to marry. And now because of that Targaryen bastard, she’s dead.”

“What’s done is done Robert. You cannot turn back time. But you can attempt to move on.” He tries to sound a little sympathetic. Robert had been deeply in love with Lyanna, but even Jon Arryn knew that his love only ran so deep. It hadn’t stopped Robert from sleeping with dozens of other women.

Sighing, Ned places a hand on Robert’s shoulder. “He’s right. You’re king now. You must do things that you don’t necessarily want to do. Keeping the peace by marrying her… It needs to be done Robert. There is still unrest all throughout Westeros. Her father and brother may have been bastards, but she was beloved by all the realms. It would do you good.”

“Damn you Ned. Damn you and your sensible words.”

Were they okay? You hoped Viserys didn’t lose his temper with the newborn Daenerys.

Your fingers made circles in the dirt that you called your bed.

They should be safely out in the open water. People would have a hard time finding that ship.

Fear and worry and the echo of Viserys pleading with you to go with them. But there wasn’t any time. Not for you at least. You had to delay Robert’s soldiers. That was the only way that the ship would be able to leave the port in time. Daenerys’ shrill cries still haunted you as you stared at the walls of your cell. You never thought in a million years that you would wind up there, in the dungeons of your ancestors.

You didn’t know what would be worse, you rotting away in the dungeon or Robert Baratheon having you executed. You understood why all this had happened, you weren’t that much of a naive girl. True you had been sheltered most of your life, you knew how the world worked. Your brother had been a fool. It was his fault for stealing the Stark girl although you didn’t believe one bit that he had raped her. That was not in Rhaegar’s nature. Neither was war. Now you were paying for the price of it. You knew that if the soldiers had caught Viserys he would have been as good as dead. He posed a threat to the usurper as now being the next in line for the Iron Throne. The last male heir of Aerys. What would your fate be?

You hadn’t anticipated marriage being an option.

Guards had dragged you out of your cell, filthy and stumbling as your eyes tried to adjust to the bright light that suddenly blinded you. You were lead to the reception hall that was once filled with the skulls of your family’s dragons. There in the back, commanding authority was the Iron Throne. On it now sat an imposing Robert Baratheon. It was an odd sight for you, seeing a man that wasn’t your insane father on the throne. One that lacked the Targaryen violet eyes and snow white hair. Robert’s thick hair clashed against your own; violently dark opposed to your gentle silver tresses. He looked every part of king, much more than your father did. During the last few years, Aerys’ body had begun to deteriorate greatly as his body thinned and became frail. Not Robert. His body was taught with muscle, ready to strike. His thick beard betrayed his young age, making him look so much more older than you knew he was. The new King of Westeros.

You had thought you were there to hear your death sentence. What came out of the stag king’s mouth nearly made you lose balance.

“I will take you as my queen. You have no say in the matter and will act accordingly unless you want to meet the same fate as your brother and father.” Stating with no compassion in his heart, rich blue eyes glare at you. “It seems fitting since he took my bride away.”

Opening your mouth you realize you didn’t know what to say. Surely you could oppose but what would that do to help you? From his voice it was clear that the last thing he wanted to do was marry you. The feeling was very much mutual. Even though your brother had been an idiot and had been in the wrong, you still hated Robert for killing him. You realized you might want death rather than this. To have to bed the man that killed Rhaegar… It made you sick. Rhaegar was an idiot, but he was your idiot. Dozens of memories resurfaced that nearly had you weeping.

“I… I am to be your bride?” The words were laced with venom. “A usurper’s queen?”

If he hadn’t been perched on the throne you knew he would’ve slapped you. Instead you noticed the subtle whitening of his knuckles as he gripped at the throne. “Watch your tongue, whore. You should be grateful that I don’t crush your skull in with my hammer.”

Dragon fire flushed your face. “I would rather you do that than subject me than your disease ridden cock.”

There was a collective gasp in the hall. A beloved princess you were, but that didn’t mean you let people step over you. You were blood of the dragon after all.

“Your grace,” broke in a voice next to you. A solemn looking man took to your side. The sigil of a direwolf displayed proudly on his vest. “Please, I know this must be difficult for you but it is the best course of action for you to take. You’ll still have your life and your people.”

“And what of my respect? My dignity? I lose all that to the Baratheon usurper.”

In a more hushed tone, the young Stark lord bends a bit to whisper in your ear. “I promise to you, if you go through with this I’ll make sure your siblings remain safe. To the old Gods and the new, I swear that they won’t be harmed.”

You soften. The Starks kept good to their word, everyone knew that. How could you say no when it ensured the safety of your siblings?

“Okay… Okay.”

By the Gods she was beautiful. Disgustingly beautiful with her Targaryen traits. Robert hated it. Hated her and her entire family. But he couldn’t deny her beauty. Especially when she stood there in front of him, her Targaryen cloak around her shoulders about to be replaced by the Baratheon yellow and black. She looked every bit a queen should. Full pouting lips, dark eyelashes that kissed at her cheeks when she fluttered her eyelids. The trail of her neck that led down to a prominent collar bone (probably from having been denied food for days).

It should have been Lyanna there in her place. Jon Arryn was right in one thing though, he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t dream of mending the past. Nothing would bring Lyanna back to him. Robert would take Rhaegar’s sister as retribution; watch the fallen prince turn in his grave as he married her.

Robert couldn’t deny his immense attraction to her though. More so now that she stood in front of them in their wedding chambers. The Bedding Ceremony was about to commence. Violet eyes hold onto blue as she stands her ground.

“Turn around.” He growls out. “I don’t want to look at your face.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” She hisses back and turns around. Her silver hair had been done so meticulously in luscious braids and curls that even Robert couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and grabbing her hair. Catching himself, he gives it a good yank making her suck in breath at the pain. His other hand goes to the laces on the back of her dress, easily ripping them to reveal her flawless, bare, back. Such beautiful skin. Robert’s fingers glide along her back before tearing off the rest of her dress so that it pooled around her feet. (y/n) continues to stand tall with her back straight. Grabbing the back of her neck, Robert bends her over the bed so that her face was pressed into the mattress; her small hands curled tightly into the silken bedsheets. Preparing for whatever Robert had planned for her. Surely she must know what he would do. Treat her as harshly as Rhaegar must have treated Lyanna. His thick thigh pushes her legs apart and Robert nearly sighs at the sight. The sight of her exposed and bent over was enough for him to salivate over. What a beautiful cunt she had. Possibly the most beautiful he had seen. He wanted to run his tongue along her slit and taste her.

(y/n) struggled slightly to move her face into a better position for her to breathe. As she did so she unconsciously wiggled her ass, an ass that begged for a smack.

That’s just what he did. Reeling his hand back and smacking her ass. “Stay still.” A vivid red handprint starts to bloom on her rear. His large hand grabs her pussy and with his fingers spreads her lower lips apart in preparation for his cock. He was a little bit too excited to fuck her. He shouldn’t have felt the thrill of it rush through him. In the end he was just as weak as any other man. As much as he wanted to be rough, he also wanted to enjoy it. Ever so slowly he pushes his cock inside of her inch by inch. Each slow movement of him entering her made (y/n) tremble and dare he say, even moan a little bit. Finally he was completely sheathed inside of her. Robert let his head roll back, eyes closing at the sublime feeling of her wonderful cunt. It was unlike anything else he had felt before. And he had fucked many maidens. Many virgins as well. None had felt quite so good though. His pace was slow at first, enjoying each contraction her cunt made as he slid his cock in and out. Using his hands, he tilted her hips up even more and hitting the right place, (y/n) lets out a shaky moan. It made him pick up the pace and pound into her. The sound of his pelvis smacking against her ass as he went balls deep into her was maddening.

“Fuck.” His deep voice groans out. He wanted to see her face. Wanted to see her tits as he fucked her senselessly. With such ease he flips her onto her back. (y/n)’s face was incredibly red now that she faced him. She was trying to glare at him but once Robert slid back into her, her eyes rolled back into her head. Crying out as he rammed into her over and over again, so much so that it made her tits bounce. Robert wraps his fingers around her slender neck putting the slightest pressure; tightening his grip little by little.

Fuck

FUCK

It was becoming hard to breathe but that was the least of your worries. The sight of Robert, his barrel chest and taught abs fucking you was too much to bear. Hard lines of his muscles twitching as he tightened his fingers around your neck.

Why did it feel so good? He was basically fucking you like a whore. You were a pureblood Targaryen and deserved better. But you found yourself enjoying his harsh treatment. You wanted him to get rougher. You wanted him to pound harder into you so that you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Head becoming light and warm, something else was happening. You felt a tightening below. The more he fucked you, the tighter the coil seemed to get until…

No. You didn’t want to be the first one to come undone. You didn’t want him to know that you were actually enjoying it. At the rate he was going though it was only a matter of time.

To take back control you launched yourself at him, catching him by surprise and his hand releasing from your neck. With your surprise attack you wrestle him so that he was now the one under you on the bed. His cheeks are red, eyes hard as he regards you with question. His about to protest until you sit yourself down on his cock. Protest devolving into a groan he lets his head fall onto the mattress as you roll your hips. You place your hands on his hard chest. Bobbing up and down his cock you try to ignore your cunt begging for release. Curling your fingers, you dig your nails into his chest and drag them harshly down. His face scrunches up, baring his teeth and hissing. Hands reaching around you to grab at your ass, he pulls you quickly up and down. You wouldn’t allow him to be in control for too long though. Again you dig your nails and drag them. Robert releases your ass and glares up at you. Beautiful blue eyes. Your own little hands reach to his thick neck and tighten like claws of a hawk. Using that as support you lift yourself off of his engorged member and start to tease the head of his cock. Slowly, torturously slow, you barely sit down enough for the head to be sheathed before coming back up. Your husband growls impatiently, wanting you to go back to riding his cock. You’re just buying yourself more time and shortening his. That’s when you sit all the way down on his cock. His mouth gapes open as you ride him. His breathing become hard, his hips desperately thrusting to match you.

You feel his body lock up underneath you as he lets out a loud groan.

The two of you were frozen in that position, trying to regain your breath. You had won. At least this battle. A bit unsteadily you lift yourself off of him; something warm and wet dribbling out. Smuggly you lay down beside him and stare at the ceiling, the space between your legs upset with you that you denied yourself your own orgasm.

“Well fuck.” Robert pants. Lazily he turns his head. “You didn’t come.”

“I wouldn’t dare grant you that satisfaction.” You roll away from him and onto your side.

Determined to prove you wrong, Robert’s hand lands on your shoulder and rolls you onto your back. “Fuck that noise. I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you’ll see stars.”

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #asoiaf fanfiction #game of thrones #asoiaf fanfic #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #asoiaf fandom #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones reader insert #got fandom #got fanfic #got fanfiction #robert baratheon fanfiction #robert baratheon fanfic #robert baratheon x reader

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witchofhimring · 1 year ago

Text

Until there comes another

This series is being edited. I feel Alys came off as one dimensionally evil and the reader as a pretty flat character. So this will be heavily edited.

Queen you shall be, until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all you hold dear

Pairings:

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Part 1: Queen you shall be

Part 3: Younger and more beautiful

Warnings: angst, cheating, mentions of stillbirth/miscarriages, death

How did it comes to this? A year ago you had been Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Now you were simply Lady Y/n, the King's former partner. By the Gods you had fought with everything you had. Your family and friends had thrown their support behind you. But it was no use against the Kings will. The High Septon and mysteriously died, some said of poison. Whether or not it was true mattered no, he was dead. Shortly after the King had a catspaw for the Septon. Then, in a trial you had been forbidden, the marriage had been dissolved. Twenty years erased without a thought.

The end was swift. They removed your title, your finery, your ladies and lastly your daughter. You cried out as Daenerys, newly thrust into adulthood, desperately clung to on. Your little girl was ripped from your arms. Aemond did not extend his mercy. Not even then. Your daughter was taken to a far off room, hardly fit for a Princess. You were not even given a place within the palace. A sept in the heart of the West was your new prison. Far away from any true help. The only one they felt you with was Floris Baratheon, who accompanied you all the way.

You tried to write to your daughter to the best of your abilities. But you never received a reply. Whether she ever got them was unknown to you. But you did get messages snuck in from the other lords and ladies who supported your cause. All loyalty to your husband must cease for the sake of your only child. Plotting did not cure the constant dreariness you felt locked in these ancient stone halls. They seemed to close in around you. The only people there were the Silent Sisters. Silent as the grave. You might have gone mad if you had not been hard at work to plan your daughters future and Floris.

The day, stuffed in an apple core, there was left a rolled up note. You made sure you were utterly alone before unraveling it.

Your Grace,

I have heard you plight from across the sea. In your position the situation is dire. But I have come with an offer that will please both parties, Gods willing. As the only surviving child of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen I wish to extend my hand to your daughter, Princess Daenerys Targaryen. This match will satisfy both parties and unite out houses. Please leave your reply under your mattress, one of my informants will receive it.

King Viserys Targaryen, Second of His Name

You new this was an incredible risk. It might not even by the long lost Prince who you had once lead armies against. But it was all or nothing.

You had wanted to leave this place for so so long. Three years inside its confinements and you would be leaving. Only it was not in the way you expected. Three months ago you woke with a great pain in your belly. It took hours to subside only to come the next day. And from then the decline was swift. You lost weight, hair thinned, your eyes became bloodshot. Still, you fought on. You stayed up conspiring with the exiled Prince. You had come to accept this was the way things would go.

Life was not easy for the royal family from what you heard. Alys, now Queen Alys, was vastly unpopular. It gave you a slight satisfaction to hear that people called your name during her coronation. She was finding out that being Queen was more than just enjoying power. It was carrying the complete weight of Westeros on your shoulders. From what you heard she no longer glided through the halls confidently. And her fertility, unfortunately, was no better than yours. She had lost two babies, finally, she had a daughter. A baby girl who most considered a bastard. You pitied this baby. This poor girl would not receive the same support your little girl would. She may receive the title your girl once, but it would never truly be hers.

One day, Alys visited you. It was not a total surprise. Somehow you knew that one day, when her hour was darkest, she would come. Whether to seeks advice or cursed you was unknown. You sipped the tea your belly would allow in. The moment Alys entered Floris hissed like a cat. She stood up but you held her hand. "To what do I owe this pleasure." The words were polite enough, however you remained seated in your chair. You felt no need to feel ashamed at your predicament. You had done nothing wrong and this woman knew it. Gone was the beautiful Alys of four years ago. You now saw something of yourself in her. She bent over slightly, a testament to how her breasts now ached. Her hair had lost its fine luster and hung lose about her like a mop. "Lady Floris, I will ask that you leave the room." "I will do so if the Queen requests it." She replied stubbornly. "And your Queen has just given a command." "Wearing another woman's things hardly makes you the Queen." Floris replied stubbornly. You knew this would not end well. Alys had guards just outside the door. "Floris, please wait outside. I doubt I shall be in danger." She looked ready to defy you. But upon seeing the resilient look in your eyes, finally departed. She knew from that look you would be fine. "So, you have come to visit." You said once the door had closed. Alys took a seat in front of you. Labored huffs escaped her. "The King has offered you amnesty and a comfortable retirement should you only deny you were ever Queen." So, she had come to challenge you. "I like to make a habit of telling the truth, Lady Alys. I do not think I will stop now." Alys's nails scrapped the wooden chair. "You are ill. I doubt you shall last much longer. If you were to die in favour of the King she would be well looked after." "Of course she will. Princess Daenerys is the next Queen." Alys sneered. "My daughter is next in line." She sneered. "As mine once was. And look where she is now." With a stumbled Alys lurched to her feet. "Is that a threat!" She hissed. You simply took another sip of tea. "When you married the King you set a president. Now any woman must watch out, for another just might take her place. And all daughters must fear for their place. Tell me Alys. If you fare no better than I what shall become of yours?" Alys was struggling to breath. You gestured to the tea pot. Alys drank before slumping back into her chair. "If I can not do this....if I can not give him at least this." She mumbled. Pityingly, you looked at her. "There is much, you will find, you can not give a man who has the world at his feet.

Your death drew closer. By the hour of the wolf you knew this was the end. They had allowed you this moment of solitude. One last meal before you were tucked into bed. Your eyes had become hazy, your belly hurt. You could hear Floris's sobs as the minutes went by. "Oh Floris. You are so good to me." Your cold fingers brushed her head. Tears rolled down her face and onto the sheets as she prayed to the Seven. Despite everything you felt as peace. You had done your best. Gods willing your daughter would be Queen one day. Queen Daenerys Targaryen. The words sounded so sweet to you. "Floris, please get me some paper." Floris protested, saying you needed to rest. You simply smiled. "My Lady, I shall get plenty of sleep soon." Paper was brought and you drafter your last note.

My beloved daughter,

I hour of my death comes I leave if the knowledge that you will be protected. For even if my woes the thought of you in despair gives me greater sorrow than anything I could suffer. Daenerys, you must be strong. The path ahead will not be an easy one and I am so sorry there was little I could do. As a mother it is my greatest wish to ensure the happiness of my child. I want you to be happy. Know that even gone I watch over you. I have always loved you, more than any worldly riches. You may feel alone at times, but I want you to know my love for you will never die.

Be Strong. I love you.

Queen Y/n

Y/n's hand slackened and took lost consciousness. And as her final moments drifted by she thought of a beautiful girl with silver hair, wearing a crown.

Floris's wails heralded a new dawn.

Note: Two down, two to go! I know this was probably not the ending you guys wanted for the reader but its a much better one than Alys will get. Also y'all comparing Alys to Rashta from Remarried Empress had me cracking😂.

Taglist:

@watercolorskyy

#alys rivers #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x alys #aemond targaryen x alys rivers #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader angst #aemond angst #aemond x reader angst

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hansensunshine · 2 years ago

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More mommy Daenerys x little sister reader please, maybe like Jon snow flirt’s with reader doesn’t notice but Dany does and punishes her.

I love your work

i’m starting to love mommy! daenerys x little sister! reader so i’d love to write more about them, here you go 🎀

— 𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋. [18+]

pairings: mommy! daenerys targaryen x little sister! reader

synopsis: you are daenerys’ last alive sibling and frankly, she loves you more than a sibling should.

tw: mommy kink, punishment in forms of; edging.

summary: daenerys notices how jon is with you, how he’s flirting with you at every turn. sweet and innocent you can’t tell the difference between someone caring for you and someone who wants you. this makes daenerys jealous, with only one way to keep you in your place.

┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ౨ৎ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈

you woke up in daenerys’ bed this morning, being woken up by someone shaking you. you groaned as your half asleep body laid there. “i’m tired.. i want more sleep.” you let your body relax before hearing a voice, you pulled yourself up and rest yourself against the headboard before yawning and slowly opening your eyes. “what is it, momm-“ before you continued you realised it wasn’t daenerys standing in front of the bed, it was one of her friends, although you couldn’t make out who. “oh.. ‘m sorry, thought you were dany..” you rubbed your eyes before getting a better look at the man. “she’s currently busy, so i thought i’d make myself known to somebody else, i’m jon.”

you smiled at him a little, before getting out of the bed to walk over to him. “your hair is very long.” you couldn’t help but giggle softly. “would you like to touch it?” you smiled in response before touching a strand of his hair. “it’s a pretty colour!” he chuckles before putting an arm on your shoulder. “you’re very sweet.” without realising, he leaned forward, wanting to peck your cheek.

daenerys had been watching them from afar, even though their encounter had lasted barely a few minutes, she walked in on the both of you. jon immediately saw her and inched back away from your body, you were the one who saw her last, you smiled over at her and gave her a small wave. “dany! you should introduce me to your friends more often, jon is really nice.” you were still smiling, daenerys couldn’t help but feel jealous so he sent jon out of the room. “but—“ “no, you heard me, leave.” jon did as instructed before she gives him a death stare. she went over to you and held your body close to hers before letting go of you and staring at you in disbelief. you were confused to say the least, you didn’t do anything wrong, but daenerys saw otherwise.

she grabbed your wrist before pulling you over to the bed, almost throwing you on it as she got on top of you. you had almost no time to react since she was already undressing you. “you’ve been a naughty girl whilst mommy was away, haven’t you?” she looked at you as she continued undressing you. you simply shook your head at her. “nu uh! i was just being nice..” she took sympathy on you for a moment. “such an innocent girl, doesn’t know the difference between someone being caring for you and someone who wants you.” as she fully unclothed you she started teasing your clit by rubbing a finger overtop.

you kept your mouth shut, letting a mumbled whine come out. “a bad girl must be punished, right baby?” she looked at you for an answer but you didn’t say anything. she pushed a finger into you as you squealed in delight. “right, baby?” she looked at you once again before nodding frantically. “baby, i need you to speak for me. or are you already begging for my fingers to fuck you?” again, you didn’t answer her, finding her touch more overpowering. she chuckles at this before shoving another finger into you, your body was already arched back in delight before she fastened the pace. you were so wet for her, you could already feel yourself about to come.

“mommy.. ‘m gonna come!” you felt yourself now grinding against her fingers before she suddenly stopped. you looked at her, being a whining mess. “mommy..? why’d you— ahh!” she started fingering you again, even faster this time. you had your body arched back again before you felt both of your hands gripping the bedsheets in pleasure. you were about to come again before daenerys stopped once again. she was edging you, but you just wanted a feeling of release, you couldn’t help but sob to her. “please.. i need to finish..” she took your sobs and kissed you gently on the cheek. “okay baby, but you will only be allowed to on my command, got it?” you nodded before she started putting her fingers into you again, she knew you were about to release so she made it as pleasurable as she could she curled her fingers going in deeper before you felt yourself about to come. “go on baby, do it for me.” you couldn’t help but come on command. all of your juices fell onto her fingers before she licked them off. “you taste so sweet.” you smiled in response before clinging onto her, she was going to make jon pay for ever speaking to you.

#my inbox <3 #daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys targaryen x little sister! reader #mommy! daenerys targaryen x little sister! reader

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romancingromanoff · 1 year ago

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Hi there, your stories are amazing, I really love them, I was wondering if you could do a margaery tyrell x F targaryen reader, where the reader is the sister of daenerys, and she also has a personality like her badass ancestor visenya instead of being ladylike

Sorry this took so long but I had a lot of fun with this request. It made me realize how much I miss writing for GoT and Margaery. I made our reader similar to Visenya in the sense that they share a love for combat and have tenacious spirits, but she isn't a complete carbon copy of her ancestor and lacks more of the diplomatic skill/finesse she was also known for. I hope you enjoy and thank you!

Daenerys was finally on the throne. You had already left Essos with a massive force the world had not seen in centuries with the Dothraki, the Unsullied, and three full grown dragons at your sister’s command. With the additional support from the Tyrells, the Dornish, and the Greyjoys, Cersei Lannister stood absolutely no chance. As Dany rode on Drogon and you rode Viserion, the sky over King’s Landing and the Red Keep instantly darkened.

The smallfolk and many of Cersei’s supporters had already begun to turn on her after the destruction of the Great Sept of Baelor. Luckily, Margaery Tyrell and a few others had been able to escape thanks to her sharp wits and quick thinking, while the High Sparrow and the majority of his followers had perished in the explosion. Poor King Tommen, who was under the impression that his wife had been killed, had taken his own life soon after by jumping from the Red Keep. As your army surrounded King’s Landing, the City Watch peacefully surrendered before any blood needed to be shed and your forces quickly closed in on the queen. There were a few loyal members of the Kingsguard that were willing to put down their lives for their queen, the most notable among them being the Kingslayer himself, however, they could only delay the inevitable.

Your father’s murderer was swiftly stabbed in the back by Grey Worm, killed the exact same way he had betrayed his king. Every part of you envied your friend for being the one to end the Kingslayer’s life. You were told that Cersei broke down upon watching her brother and lover die protecting her. She had poison on hand which she planned to use on herself but wasn’t quick enough to evade capture. No, she would not get a swift death. Dany had her presented to the entire city and lit her up with Drogon’s dragon fire in the tradition of your ancestors. She died screaming for mercy while the crowds cheered, the tyrant queen was finally gone.

Unfortunately, there had been very little time to celebrate your victory before a convoy from the North traveled down with news of an ancient threat that sought to wipe out all of humanity.

Neither you or Dany believed that the White Walkers actually existed until you flew north of the wall yourselves to witness the army of the dead with your own eyes. You immediately summoned dragon fire to try and destroy whatever portions of the army you could, but then Viserion and you had nearly been killed in the attack when an unimaginably deadly spear made of ice had been launched in your direction by the Night King himself. Viserion dove quickly and turned his body so that you wouldn’t be hit but part of his left wing was snagged and soon the two of you were falling out of the sky. Your dragon was able to soften the landing for you as best as he could but the impact was still extremely damaging on your body.

Being more of a fighter, you had suffered your fair share of injuries in the past. Around your sixth nameday, a special sling had to be made for your arm. You had broken it while wielding a large stick you found in the gardens of one of the many sponsors in Essos you lived with before moving onto the next. In your mind, you imagined it was the Valyrian steel sword Dark Sister that had once belonged to your great ancestor Visenya Targaryen. One jump off of the roof with your imaginary dragon had led to a nasty fall and started a series of mostly self-induced, reckless wounds.

Scars covered your body, telling the stories of every horse you’d fallen off of and time you’d wrestled a Dothraki warrior that was easily twice your size. Daenerys hated how eager you were to pick up any sword or bow you could get your hands on but understood that trying to stop you only fueled the fire in your veins. When she had entered the funeral pyre and given birth to her three dragons, the only thing you could talk about from then on out was when they’d be large enough to ride. Not once did you worry about the possibility of falling out of the sky.

It took an entire week before you finally awoke, your first action trying to scramble out of bed despite the maesterscolding you for breaking several of your stitches. You had to know if your sister and friends were safe. Dany soon informed you that you were back in King’s Landing where Viserion was also healing. It was truly a relief to find out that he would be okay. Then your sister informed you of her plan to return to the north and aid in the fight against the dead at Winterfell while you were ordered to stay and rest in the capital.

“Dany, please!” You protested with every ounce of energy you had, causing a sharp pain to rip through your shoulder. “Let me go with you. I won’t let you do this alone!”

“You are in no shape to fight, sister, and neither is your dragon. As your queen, I order you to stay here. I still have not been crowned and I need someone I can trust to guard the iron throne.”

It was a fight you knew you could not win, yet you dreaded being left alone in this strange city. “We have no allies here. I have no friends. Please, let me at least go with you to Winterfell and I won’t fight, I give you my word.” The thought of not being able to participate in the battle pained you but you at least wanted to be there for support.

Your sister adamantly shook her head. “No, I will not gamble with your life. You are my heir and the only other person I trust to enact our mission. That is my final decision. Missandei and a few of the Unsullied will stay here with you. You should take the opportunity to get to know the people here, learn about the culture and make more allies. Many in Westeros still view us as foreigners and I need to know who I can truly trust to fully support my reign.”

“Dany, you know I’m hopeless when it comes to this stuff,” you sighed and could already tell your head would be hurting for weeks if you were forced to sit and make pleasantries with strangers. Between you and your sister, she had always been more naturally gifted in the ways of diplomacy and charming others to listen to her words. You, on the other hand, were more inclined to laugh at the absolute worst moment of a conversation or trip over your own words and accidentally curse in a way completely unfit for a highborn lady. “If it’s seven kingdoms you wish to rule then you’ll ensure I’m not able to make a fool of myself in front of the most powerful families in Westeros.”

There was no convincing her. Your eyes stung stung for hours when your sister left you behind. In the following days, more agonizing than your wounds was the dreadful feeling of not knowing whether or not your friends were alive or dead. Being bedridden you felt completely helpless as the days came and went with no ravens delivering news of any sort of outcome yet. After a few days, you were finally given permission to try and walk again and took every opportunity to explore the castle. Missandei eventually tried to force you to rest and it took a great deal of effort to ditch her. Trying to shuffle as quickly as you could through several smaller corridors resulted in you being completely lost.

That was where you first met Margaery Tyrell. Somehow, she managed to sneak up on you the third time you realized you had walked past the same statue. “Your grace,” she performed a small curtsy in front of you. “I’m glad to see you have progressed tremendously from your injuries. I’m Margaery of the House Tyrell, truly, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“I…“ Oh gods, you weren’t prepared for this at all. It was like you instantly had forgotten how to speak. Many had said that Margaery was the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros. And although you had seen very little of the seven kingdoms thus far, you were inclined to agree. She was utterly breathtaking, with honeyed hair and hypnotic eyes. You cursed at yourself for leaving Missandei, the only person that might have been able to save you in this current situation. You needed her to say absolutely anything else in literally any of the several languages she spoke. Even gibberish would have been better than you just standing there gaping at the poor lady.

She went ahead and continued speaking after you failed to respond with anything more than a wordless stare. “May I assist you in any way? I know how daunting finding your way around the castle can be. During my first two weeks of living here I got lost on my way to the Great Hall and found myself in a sunken courtyard where two men conversed with one another in a foreign language I didn’t recognize and ignored my presence when I tried to ask for help in Common Tongue. I had to wait for a cook to come rescue me and that was only because he was chasing a pigeon that had stolen his spoon from the kitchen!”

It was unclear whether or not you were meant to laugh at her anecdote and you didn’t want to risk doing the wrong thing. But then Margaery herself began chuckling at her previous misfortune and you felt relaxed enough to lift your lips into a small smile. Her energy was contagious and frankly, so was the sound of her laughter. You immediately wished to hear more of it.

“Yes, well… It’s, uh, strange never having been here myself but knowing my family has walked these halls for generations. I asked a servant if the rumors that dead Targaryens haunt the corridors were true and she nearly fainted. I suppose that answered my question. Honestly, it would be nice if their ghosts could offer me any directions.”

You worried that you might have overshared, although you had only been trying to follow Margaery’s lead. But the charming woman in front of you suddenly burst into the most melodic laughter you’d ever heard and a strange warmth rushed into your face.

“That would be helpful, wouldn’t it, if those from the past could offer their wisdom to us before we make the exact same mistakes they did?”

“Yes, exactly!” The fact that the two of you are on the same page has you giggling with complete elation. “Do you ever think about your dead family?”

As soon as the words left your mouth you only realized what you just said. Oh gods, why did you have to phrase it like that? How foolish did you have to be to forget that her own brother, Loras Tyrell, had been unable to escape the Great Sept not even two moons ago?

Margaery blinked twice, staring at you mildly stunned. It was the same look you see on your sister’s face whenever tries to hold in a cringe and realizes she’ll have to offer up an explanation for your infantile behavior.

“I-I must apologize, my lady, I didn’t mean to say it like that.” You took several steps back from the woman, unsure if she wanted to turn and leave so you were prepared to excuse yourself first. “I understand if you want me to leave.”

“It’s alright. Please, stay.” You felt her hand reach for your wrist and although her touch was nothing but gentle it startled you. Your eyebrows immediately shot up like she had frozen you by some strange magic. “You’ve done nothing to offend me. I suppose I was simply surprised by your choice of words.”

You released a breath you’d been holding. “That tends to be a regular occurrence I’m afraid. My lady, I truly am sorry about the loss of your brother. My own was rather cruel and I feared him since I was a small child, yet his death unsettled me greatly even though he deserved it. I understand you were very close with yours and no one deserves that sort of fate. You and your family have my deepest condolences.”

“Thank you,” Margaery spoke more softly before with a new contemplative look in her eyes. “Loras was deeply misunderstood and unfortunately people weren’t very accepting of his differences. I wish he had been able to freely live as himself without judgment.”

It sounded all too familiar. Recently, people you knew had spoken about the youngest Tyrell son’s… sexual preferences… But you always tried to avert your attention from such conversations when you came across them, even if the participants didn’t seem hostile with their judgment. You were no longer in Essos where people like yourself were generally more accepted in society. And although the High Sparrow and his fanatics were gone, members of the Faith of the Seven continued to persecute others like you.

“I understand the feeling. My sister and I hope to build a new Westeros where everyone is free to make their own decisions. A place that’s free of judgment and everyone can decide their own future, so long as it is done fairly. The weak and the poor will no longer break their backs for greedy men that would abuse them for a few coins.”

“I should be quite fortunate to witness it,” she gave you a bright smile and offered you her arm, which you hesitated to take at first. A part of you knew even the slightest bit of her touch would be addicting for you, which turned out to be correct. She guided you throughout the rest of the castle and you decided that you’d let her lead you anywhere.

You found it strange when only a fortnight had passed and surprisingly you felt as if you’d been friends with MargaeryTyrell much longer. Whether you were struggling to find the proper words to use or going off on one of your many animated tangents, the southern lady never judged nor criticized you. It quickly became evident that she was a master at socializing and had no problem carrying the conversation on her own when you internally fussed over what to say. However, she was also eager to listen when you finally let one of your passionate ramblings pour from your heart. Even subjects that were positively unladylike, which you had first assumed would be of no interest to your new companion, became effortlessly easy to talk about with her.

“Valyrian steel is objectively the best material to use if you ever needed an amputation. It cuts clean through skin, flesh, and bone, unlike more blunt blades which would be more likely to cause even greater injury. I’ve seen some medics have to practically saw their tools back and forth through limbs in order to get them to detach. It’s completely gruesome!”

“And Dark Sister, that was the one you used to pretend to have?” Margaery’s eyes shimmered like she was completely enthralled in your story. Never once did you think she’d call you a freak or too violent to be considered a lady.

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. It was Visenya’s during Aegon’s conquests. I’ve always wanted to be a warrior like her for as long as I can remember. Of course Viserys only ever saw me and Daenerys as pawns easy enough to use, as was his right he said, to help take back his throne.”

“What he did was cruel and how I wish you had been treated better. Had a better childhood surrounded by your loved ones and a proper place to call home. I’m sure we would have met sooner, perhaps here at court. Except then you’d be the one showing me around and rescuing me from becoming lost!”

There’s nothing you could do to stop the blush from filling your cheeks as you imagined this rewritten version of history and who you might have been had things been different. The past wasn’t something you liked to dwell on too often as you knew there was no point in trying to change things, but one other thing had become incredibly clear about your future. You couldn’t imagine it without Margaery in your life.

Daenerys was finally due to come back tomorrow and while you were certainly eager to see her and have her introduced to Margaery, many other mixed emotions came with the letter she had most recently sent you. She’d mentioned several losses over the series of battles that had taken place up north. You knew victory would never have been easily won, but feared finding out which friends’ faces had been permanently taken from your life. Thankfully, Margaery was there to listen to you express your anxieties.

“I have this horrible feeling that Jorah is dead. As complicated as his past was, I never doubted that he would lay down his own life to save me or my sister. He once promised me that he would never leave us and yet somehow, I know he’s gone and done just that.”

“I will be here for you every step of the way,” Margaery assured you, grabbing your hands and softly rubbing her thumbs upon the tops of them. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I may not know any of your friends but I will not leave you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Do you promise?” You squeezed her hands tighter, gazing up into her wide eyes and looking for any sign of uncertainty. There were so few people in this world that you’d let get to know the real you, and even fewer that had stayed and accepted it.

Her eyes softened, and in a way of almost sealing her promise she slowly lowered herself to her knees in front of you. You were a princess as your sister was the queen and people were regularly brought to bow before you just the same. Still, the way Margaery executed it without ever breaking eye contact made her particular act feel incredibly intimate, like she was pledging her loyalty not only to your blood or titles, but simply because it was you.

“I promise, my little dragon. Where you go, I go.” It was whenever she made statements like this that you almost believed she might have felt the same way as you did about her.

A snarky smile crept across your face. “Does that mean you’ll finally ride Viserion with me?” You’d recently been begging the woman you were infatuated with for a chance to impress her with the one experience you knew she would not have had. Or could find anywhere else.

She let out a nervous laugh. “You forget, my dear, that I am a rose and am meant to be firmly planted into the ground. And while I’m sure Viserion has no qualms with you riding him, he’s surely to be mistrustful of a stranger like me. There are no dragon riders in my family’s history, I’m afraid.”

“Maybe you’re a stranger to him as of now but we can remedy that! I am bonded to him more deeply than humans can be with normal animals, which means he should inherently trust you as much as I do. He’s going to love you, I know it. Margaery, you must know I would never put you into danger like that.”

There was a substantial amount of hesitance which began to fade from her eyes. You tried to show her what you believed was your most empathetic look and you watched as your words caused the last few threads of doubt to come undone.

“I trust you as well. But I shall have to ask for something small in return, if you’d agree to it.”

She could’ve asked you for the world and you knew you would give it to her. The two of you then struck a deal and made your way to dragon pit.

Viserion was already in protective mode as you approached him, making sure he had at least one eye on Margeary at all times. You started to speak to him in High Valyrian, explaining that you had brought a special friend and your comfort around her appeared to ease him. The golden rose tried to remain calm throughout the whole ordeal as well, though you sensed that she was dealing with a reasonable amount of nerves deep down. Her hand timidly reached out for yours, in a way that was surprisingly bashful for the normally confident woman, and you immediately accepted her touch.

Three circles around King’s Landing was all it took to change Margaery’s mind about flying. A perfectly blue and cloudless sky made for the perfect views. The few screams she attempted to stifle had turned into pure uninhibited laughter by the second lap, and you only landed shortly after to be certain you weren’t overworking Viserion so soon after his injury.

As much joy spending time with Margaery brought you, there was a voice from your past softly whispering in your ear, telling you not to get too attached. You were a dragon but you had been burned before. Dany was the only other person that truly knew how complicated your relationship with Doreah had been. Completely smitten with her from the start, it was easy enough for her to win over your innocent heart with a few stolen kisses and flirtatious words. She made you believe you were her favorite and even more special than your sister. It eventually drew a wedge between you and Danythat gave Doreah the opportunity to betray the both of you. Worst of all, you couldn’t prove it but you knew she had killed Irri too.

“Now do you see why I told you not to trust her?” Both your sister’s embrace and her words were firm as she had turned from the vault where Doreah and Xaro Xhoan Daxos were sealed inside. Your body was still shaking but Daenerys was determined for you to remember every detail of that exact moment. “As Targaryens, people will always envy our power and try not only to take it but to have us give it to them if they can.”

“I won’t ever let us feel like that again, sister, I swear it,” you had promised with the utmost sincerity.

You never let yourself fall for another again until you invited Margaery Targaryen to accompany you on Viserion and it made you feel alive again. The realization began to set in when your feet landed back on the ground, with a heaviness in both your heart and your knees suddenly overtaking you. Margaery naturally caught sight of the grimace on your face and asked if everything was alright. Honestly, you didn’t even know what the truth was.

“Margaery,” the gravity in your voice made even Viserion shift uncomfortably. You knew you had to be honest to receive honesty in return. “I will grant whatever favor you request of me as I am a woman and princess of my word. I only ask that you be sincere with me. Getting to know you recently has felt like a breath of fresh air, but I have been used and toyed with for my name and my power since I was born. You are a woman of noble birth with the duty of uplifting your family and house. I can respect that. It is also evident that you are more than capable of securing your own means of influence. You have been wed to three men that have called themselves ‘King’. It would be foolish of you not to try and befriend me, but I must know, what is it that you really want?”

Margaery sighed and momentarily averted her gaze from you. You’d never seen her that reserved before. Having her be the one too nervous to open up to you was a strange switch in the roles you’d mostly settled in over the past few weeks. It made you eager to demonstrate the lack of judgment you held on your part. You ached to be someone she could trust and every second of silence that passed had you sitting in bitter anticipation.

When she finally spoke, it was with a solemn sense of conviction. “I have wanted to be Queen for so long. You’re not wrong to assume it has completely consumed my life. These past few years have been especially driven by my obsession, which might have started as a seed planted by my family but became fully grown and sustained by my own ambition a long time ago.”

She paused after that, clearly unaccustomed to the position she had found herself in. There was also something else about her demeanor that you couldn’t clearly define. Shame, regret, possibly even indignation? You slowly leaned in closer, careful to make sure you weren’t overstepping, but wanting to show that you were there for her.

“I was always maintaining a specific persona, trying to play the role of a voice for the poor when I only cared about how the publicity could serve my own interests. I was not like you or your sister. Truthfully, I made very little effort to help anyone aside from myself and my family and never sacrificed more than a few comforts or dresses I dirtied. Even when I was officially the queen, all the power that came with the crown wasn’t enough to save my brother from the animosity and unfairness which runs so deeply in the establishments that uphold our society. Things that I didn’t spare a second thought for until they came to hurt the ones I love and it was too late to do anything.

“Margaery,” you shook your head and bravely reached for her hands. “None of what happened is your fault. You’re only one person and shouldn’t put the pressure to change history and customs by yourself. We’re all human.”

She squeezed your hands tightly, pulling you closer to her so that only a few inches separated your faces. Gods, being near her affected you like a powerful drug. She smelled of roses and fresh morning dew in the early spring as you expected from a lady of Highgarden. There was something in her presence that seemed to transport you there. And though you had never actually been, it strangely felt like home.

“Yes, you are human, dragon rider, and more,” she smiled and came to run the back of her fingers softly down your cheek. Your legs would have given out had you not been so determined to keep looking up into her enchanting eyes. “And yet when all odds were against you, you and your sister freed thousands and bettered the lives of countless others with nothing expected in return. That is true selflessness and deserves the right to rule, as I am certain you shall do fairly as these kingdoms desperately need. You will bring forth the future where people like me and Loras could have lived freely. A place I never even imagined until I met you.”

Nothing in her words or demeanor felt dishonest but something told you the request she had yet to make would reveal the ultimate truth. If she believed in you and your sister’s mission then would it be so outlandish to think she’d ask for your friendship above additional power? Your heart was beating frantically and you strained your voice to get out your next few words.

“Margaery, what is it that you want from me?” Despite knowing that she had the power to end you right then and there, you chose to cling onto hope and held onto her one hand and lean into the touch of the other which now rested on the opposite side of your face. Doreah had been gentle with you at times but not in a way quite like this. Her affections had always been calculated and she gave you just enough to leave you wanting more. Teasing and playing games with you where you were only awarded by granting her favors. Margaery held you like she never wanted to let you go, even if it burned her skin in the process.

“If you wouldn’t be opposed to it, I’d like to kiss you, little dragon.”

Your heart must’ve stopped and all you could do was nod. Then as soon as Margaery’s lips met your own it began to beat once more, complete with new life she breathed into you. Her kiss was soft at first, careful to ensure the continued contact was alright with you before you deepened it. She tasted of vanilla and sweets and you eagerly chased to explore into her mouth further with her tongue. Your enthusiasm must’ve surprised the other woman, though she gave off a pleased chuckle before shortly taking back the lead and her other hand found your waist.

“Kostilus,” you moaned as she pressed your bodies even closer together. Everything else you wanted to say you put into your movements. Margaery smiled once again and her chest vibrated when you went to wrap your arms around her neck and continued to interrupt your dance with brief pronunciations of Valyrian words. She didn’t need to speak the language to understand what you were pleading for, and it pleased her greatly in many ways.

The two of you instantly separated when Viserion let out a deep cry that vibrated the ground around you. He twisted his neck up towards the sky where a dark mass grew faster and faster in its descent. Drogon answered his brother’s call and you realized Dany must be home. You grabbed Margaery’s hand, the biggest grin painted across your face. Getting to kiss Margaery and reunite with your sister had you so giddy that it didn’t occur to you how Margaery had never met Drogonbefore, who was much larger and intimidating than your sweet Viserion.

But all you could think about was how relieved you were to see your sister and her dragon both safe and unharmed. You raced to Dany when she began to dismount and dragged Margaery along with you. You felt as if you could burst with joy in that very moment, although your sister’s face did not show the same excitement or relief as you would have expected. No, this wasn’t Dany excited to greet you after an easy victory. This was Queen Daenerys already fueled on anger and glaring daggers at the woman next to you.

To her credit, Margaery stood firmly next to you in the face of the Mother of Dragons and her fiercest son.

“Who is she?”

#margaery tyrell #margaery tyrell x reader #game of thrones #margery tyrell imagines #game of thrones insert #wlw #Natalie dormer characters

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damn-stark · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 1 Heir to the iron throne

Chapter 1 of Sandstorm

A/N- First chapter I hope you guys like it!

Warning- Y/N has a son, swearing, death and blood, talks of sexual assault, fluff.

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

Episode- 7x02 & only the beginning of 7x03

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*21 YEARS AGO*

“Mother, when is father going to return?”

He has been gone for months now, you can’t seem to recall what he told you last, but you know you miss him.

“Soon,” your mother assures you and tucks you in bed. “I swear.”

It was always the same answer. Vague, “he’s fighting a war.”.

“Now, Little Sunspot,” your mother continues softly and sits at the other end of your bed. “It’s your turn to pick a story for tonight, so what will it be?”

Without a moment of hesitation you beam at her and give her your answer. “Tell me the story of Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters.”

“Oh no!” Rhaenys whines from her side of the room. “Not that one again, Visenya, pick a different one!”

You pull your blanket over your mouth and snuggle under your blankets. “That’s mine and fathers favorite,” you mumble and then look at your mother to bat your lashes. “Please mother, tell it!”

Your mother offers you a sweet smile and nods in agreement. “I will, but I must warn you, I am not as good as Rhaegar is at telling it, but I will try my best.”

——

Home.

What a fickle thing. Home is as some say where your own family is. But for the 21 years you lived at Sunspear with your family; with your late uncle Oberyn and his daughters you thought of as sisters, and with your late uncle Doran and his son, both of them brothers to your mother, both beloved uncles, it seems you could never find such belonging amongst them.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t feel peace and happiness at Sunspear. Because you did. Yet it’s that sense of belonging that you’ve always craved and missed.

It’s a belonging you hope you’ll find here in Dragonstone, your family’s ancestral home, amongst the only living relative you still have from the House of the Dragon, from your fathers side of the family. Amongst your aunt Daenerys Targaryen.

Your great reunion has been a long time coming, years perhaps, but time only seemed fitting now. Especially since it’s not until recently that she herself has arrived back home, at Dragonstone.

A place you were born at and left a long time ago, a place you did not recall in any of your memories.

Coming upon it in the clouds seems so surreal, like a dream maybe, a faded one. It was a lot grayer than you imagined, colder; but that’s maybe due to the fact that you’re several hundred feet in the sky—The ocean's waters are darker as well; a lot more than the ones at Sunspear. It was strange, truly.

Dragonstone seems a lot smaller too—or seemed a lot smaller, but as you began to descend from the sky the castle became larger. Not only that but now that the clouds didn’t hide you anymore something else came to view, three dragons. They all looked dark and small, but the more you began to descend the larger they got, the more you can see their colored scales.

There was a green one like the green fields of grass, but it seems it’s also mixed with bronze. There was a cream and gold one, smaller than the other two. And the third one was larger, a beautiful black dragon with red mixed within it as well. And without fault all three of them screech, sing their song as they catch sight of Eraxis, your beautiful white She-dragon descend to the sand in front of the castle gates.

All three of them circle Eraxis as she lands. And Eraxis just watches them before she sings, a loud echoing and sharp song.

Once you climb down her and hit the sand, you can’t help but smile at her and caress her neck. “It is alright girl. It’s okay, they're family.”

Eraxis turns her head and tilts it before she looks back up to the sky as the dragons keep circling her.

You look up and smile at the three dragons before you drop your eyes to the sand beneath your shoes, and slowly crouch down to scoop up some of the cold sand in your hand and watch each grain drop out between the gaps between your fingers. You proceed to dust off the sand and rise up again until you hear a soft thump on the sand behind you.

“Welcome home,” you break your silence and begin to grin a soft smile. “Rhaenar.” You look back and meet the pair of dark brown eyes of your son.

Said boy lets out a small breath and looks up the castle gates to slowly examine it and watch the guards that stood in front of them. “It’s cold,” he mutters and buttons the top button of his shirt as if that would make any difference

You sigh softly and nod. “Quite is. Come on, let's get inside then.”

Rhaenar drags his hand along Eraxis as he follows you to the gate, but hesitates to depart from her as you reach the guards.

“I’ve come to see the Queen,” you tell them.

The guards eyes shift over your shoulder and land on the white dragon who watches them intently.

“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “She won’t do any harm.”

The guard's eyes shift back to you before he shifts to push the doors open, finally letting you see the long and grand stairway that leads up to the castle.

“Come Rhaenar,” you tell the boy who you know has probably only moved an inch from the dragon.

“And if she does not like us?” He asks in a timid voice that let his Dornish accent come out even after he tries to hide it.

You sigh and turn to reach him. “You do not have to worry about that my Sunspot,” you assure him. “Okay? She is family, your grandfather's sister, it will take some time to get used to one another but I am sure she will love you.”

Rhaenar lowers his gaze and nods, letting you smile as you cup his cheek. “And do not hide your accent, what would your uncle say?”

“Targaryens do not talk like me, mother,” he mutters and fists his hands.

You scoff. “Who said that?”

Rhaenar goes quiet, so you grab his face with both hands and press him. “Rhaenar, tell me.”

“Myself, books I have read about our family,” he whispers.

You sigh. “Oh my sweet boy, we talk how we damn want to, no one can tell us otherwise. Not books of old dead ancestors. Be proud you are part Dornish. That only makes you more fierce than any other Targaryen.” You smirk and brush the strands of hair out of his face. “Come. Let’s go.”

You turn back to face the gate and offer him your hand, but he just scoffs and shakes his head.

Now without any more delay and falters, both Rhaenar and you walk up the long stairway, catching Eraxis now flying overhead, keeping her distance from the other dragons flying in the sky. You can see the grand castle getting closer and closer.

Yet, before you can reach the castle gates, an army of unsullied, and tall, dark and muscular men in fur garments walk out and meet you halfway.

“Halt there,” a slender and tall man orders, causing you to do as he said.

“I have come to see the Queen,” you inform him. “I am…family.”

“Doubtful,” you hear a familiar voice interject between the crowd of men. “Who are you…” the moment the men part to the side to let him meet you halfway, the tiny man trails off and looks at you in shock and yet a puzzled look.

You scoff in amusement and smile mischievously as you instantly come to recognize the short man. “I am sorry, Lord Tyrion, it seems the last time we met, my hair was a different color.”

The small man hums and loses the confusion and now looks more serious. “Y/N Sand. Prince Oberyn’s daughter. I thought Dorne was not meant to get here yet.”

You shake your head. “No, but they are on the way, I,” you glance up at Eraxis and smile, “flew here.” You glance down at him. “And my name is not Sand. I am Princess Y/N Targaryen Martell,” you reveal yourself. “If you want to get technical, my true name my father gave me is Visenya, but well…I’ve grown accustomed to my new name.” You sigh. “I am the niece of your Queen. I have come to meet her, to join her.”

Lord Tyrion studies you for a brief moment with doubt lingering in his stare, making you smirk.

“Do you wish for me to prove myself to you, my Lord? Wash my hair? Bleed my veins, or tell my dragon a command?” You retort.

Lord Tyrion sighs and shakes his head. “No. Please none of that. I was just trying to progress the fact that a supposed dead princess is standing right in front of me.” He counters.

You swallow thickly. “I was never presumed dead, was I?” You ask rhetorically. “Nevertheless, I have no reason to lie, nor am I, Eraxis can prove that.”

Tyrion looks up at the white dragon and watches her as she keeps circling the area.

“Well,” Lord Tyrion says and meets your gaze. “Greetings Princess. It is very nice to finally meet you.” He offers you a faint smile. “Now please if you don’t mind please hand your weapons over.”

Usually parting from your weapon is a condition you don’t like to follow, but in this case it’s only fair, besides these large handsome men didn’t seem like they were going to let you pass if you didn’t follow orders.

“Rhaenar,” you say and hold a tall man’s dark gaze as he watches you unsheath your weapons. “Hand over your weapons.”

Without arguing, your son does as he’s told and hands his sword and daggers to the men, leaving you to bend down to unsheath the daggers you have hidden under your dress.

“Dothraki, I assume,” you comment as you keep holding the man’s gaze with a sly smirk.

“Yes,” Lord Tyrion confirms. “The Queens warriors.”

You stand up to your given height and catch the tall, dark man smirking at you as he takes your weapons. You then smirk back at him.

“Follow me,” Lord Tyrion breaks the tension and pulls your gaze back to him. “The Queen is already waiting.”

When you walk inside, the soldiers that had come out to greet you continue to follow you inside. They surround Rhaenar and you, and don't let you take in your surroundings very well.

“I do pardon for such a cold greeting,” Lord Tyrion interjects. “We just don’t know the true intentions of you or your…dragon.”

You scoff. “Do not worry, Lord Tyrion, I understand.”

“Tyrion,” he corrects you. “I am not the Lord of anything now.”

“My apologies.”

“It’s alright,” he assures you and brings his army of men and you to a halt in front of big black doors that lead to only one obvious room, the Throne Room.

Now it’s closer than ever. The moment you have dreamed of since you found out about her being alive. Beside your son Rhaenar, she was the last piece of family you have remaining from your Targaryen bloodline.

Her….

Let’s just say that happiness isn’t the most powerful feeling you feel now. Rhaenar senses that it seems, your nerves, and reaches for your hand to give it a gentle squeeze.

You look down at him and offer him a soft smile before you secure your hold around his hand.

Before the doors can be opened, Tyrion asks for your name and titles. It’s only after you give it to him that the guards begin to push the doors open, letting the gray dimly lit throne come to view.

As you proceed to walk inside, you see her. She’s sitting so poise on that stone throne at the end of the room. You see the color of her silver-white hair that matches yours. You see her fancy black garments and her red cloak elegantly hanging off her chair. You see her pale face, her blue eyes. You see her, your aunt, the Queen. She’s there, she’s real.

“Princess Y/N Targaryen, Princess of Dorne, and Daughter of late Prince Rhaegar Targaryen,” Tyrion announces as you keep slowly walking inside.

Now you notice a bald man, a man you know as Lord Varys. You catch his gaze narrow, and see him take a slow step forward as if fascinated by your presence. You then don’t fail to notice the Queen's face twist to something you can read as disbelief and…anger.

“Prince Rhaenar Targaryen, son of the princess.”

You come to a stop before you can reach the unsullied guards standing in front of the steps that lead to the throne, and let go of Rhaenar’s hand to curtsey; while he bows to the Queen.

“My Queen,” you say and return your gaze back on her as you stand up straight. “It is an honor finally getting to meet you.”

“You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of house Targaryen. Rightful heir to the Iron Throne, Rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains.” A woman with brown skin, and dark curly hair announces the mouthful of titles that must be a pain in the ass to see each time.

Nevertheless, Queen Daenerys holds your gaze and retorts. “I am sorry I am not rejoiced by your presence. Until now I had no idea you were alive.” She slightly raises her eyebrows as she seems to pierce her glare in you.

You scoff in amusement. “That’s good, it means my uncles did a good job in hiding me from the world that wanted me dead,” you rebuttal confidently and pass a discreet glance at Tyrion. “But I do swear to you on my fathers memory that I am who I say I am. I mean…if I wasn’t would I have come flying on a dragon?” You smirk. Yet no one else finds it so amusing.

“You have no reason to believe me,” you continue. “But I do know people who know of me.” You glance over at Lord Varys standing a bit a ways from the Queen, and make her gaze drift to the man.

“Lord Varys, can you attest to her word? Can you prove that who stands before me really is a niece I have thought long dead?” She asks and looks at you.

The Lord slowly steps forward and stops at the top step to study you from closer.

“Yes, I can,” Tyrion speaks up and walks to the top step. “I can attest to her word. I have met her before. However, back then she went by another name.”

You scoff and nod. “Yes. Back then I went by Sand. I was just another bastard daughter to my uncle Oberyn Martell, but it was for my own safety. After all, it is his family who wanted me dead.”

Tyrion nods and accepts your accusation. “Yes. It was my family.”

You clench your jaw and let out a deep sigh.

“Her uncle died for me,” Tyrion continues. “He was a good man. That is why I trust her word.”

The Queen slowly stands up from the chair and begins to head your way, yet she stops at Tyrion’s side. “If it is you. If you do have a dragon, where have you been this entire time?” She asks you.

You clasp your hands in front of you and part your lips to speak, but then Lord Varys speaks up before you could. “She was hiding, by her uncle's demand. Sworn to keep her identity a secret until the right time came. As was I.”

The Queen shifts her head to the side to look at her Lord.

“She is who she says she is. She is Princess Visenya Targaryen, daughter of your brother Rhaegar Targaryen. She is blood of your blood, My Queen.”

You shake your head and correct them. “No. It’s Y/N. Not Visenya. Not anymore.”

The Queen begins to glare at the man for a second before she finally returns her gaze to you and begins to step down the steps to meet you halfway.

She then continues to study you, to check out the gold dragon scale corset over your red dress, the golden rings on your fingers, the golden snake around your bicep. She looks at your silver-white hair probably trying to see if your hair color was actually real and not fake, or if you were actually real or not. Her eyes then shift to Rhaenar for a brief second before returning to look at you again.

You don’t do anything, you let her take her time, and take this time to study her too; to realize how beautiful she is, how tiny she is as well now that she’s not sat on the throne.

“Who might you be?” The Queen breaks her silence and looks back at Rhaenar.

Said boy bows and then tries his best to once again hide his Dornish accent. “I am Prince—”

You clear your throat to correct him, making the Queen glance at you in confusion before returning to look at your boy.

“I am Prince Rhaenar Sand, your Grace,” he shares in his normal voice, and this time you glance at him slightly concerned since he refers to himself as Sand.

The Queen scoffs softly and her lips are just faintly showing a smile. “Sand?” She questions.

Rhaenar nods. “I am a bastard,” he tells her, making you sigh.

“And like I have told him before,” you interject. “That does not matter. That does not change who you are descended from.”

Daenerys nods. “Your mother is correct,” she agrees in your defense. “You are still the blood of the dragon aren't you? You are a Targaryen first and foremost.”

Rhaenar shrugs. “I suppose.”

The Queen offers a soft laugh before she looks at you. “Let’s take a walk.”

You nod, and without a fault when you walk out, the curly headed woman, the Unsullied, and the Dothraki warriors follow you out and walk behind you like lurking shadows. It’s something you have never grown unaccustomed to after your years of being somewhat free in Dorne.

“What’s your dragon's name?” The Queen asks once you’re out of the castle and walking up a stairwell that leads to some place you can’t see yet.

“Her name is Eraxis,” you share with a faint smile.

Queen Daenerys eyes snap to you, and you catch her surprise at your comment.

“Your dragon is a female?” She questions.

You nod. “Yes. She is. Or at least that’s what I like to say, I don’t think we can really place a gender on a dragon.” You smile.

The Queen nods. “Yes, I suppose we can’t.”

A screech sounds from the sky before Eraxis flies down past you. Both the Queen and you look up to watch her, to admire how her white scales glimmer like diamonds against the sun's rays; to watch as she let her large wings soared, and how her horned tail swung to the side as she flew up.

“She’s…quite big,” the Queen points out with an admiring smile. “How old is she?”

Once Eraxis passes, the Queen's black dragon flies past you to follow Eraxis up in the sky.

“She is fifteen,” You answer softly, and catch her swallow thickly before she brings you to a stop so you can watch the both of your dragons as they begin to twirl up to the sky together, like if they’re dancing. Like if they were familiar with one another already.

“It seems Drogon is quite taken by Eraxis already,” the Queen says. “That should be good.”

You rest your hands on the stone before you and nod. “It is. It means Eraxis won’t be alone anymore.” You look down to look at the Queen. “What are the names of your other dragons?”

The Queen drops her gaze and answers, “the green one is Rhaegal, I named him after your father.”

Your smile falters, and your eyes go soft.

“And the gold and cream one is Viserion, named after my brother, Viserys.”

Ah. Him. The youngest brother. The uncle you only have one memory of, and it’s not a pleasant one.

“If I may ask,” the Queen continues. “How was Eraxis born to you?”

The story is something you hardly know how to explain to make it sound sane. Yet it is one people ask for a lot.

“To be honest,” you laugh softly. “It’s going to sound funny, but…” you avert your gaze and begin messing with your rings. “…a dream…”

You hear the Queen's feet shift against the stone ground at the sound of your comment.

“…it was a dream I scarcely remember anymore. But it was of my dragon being born from fire and blood.” You let out a deep breath and slowly look up to once again meet her gaze. Now you notice her look slightly disbelieved.

“It was fate then,” the Queen interjects softly.

You shrug and smile faintly at your rings. “Perhaps.”

You could tell her what you did to have the egg hatch, every detail. You can tell her that even if you don’t recall every detail of the dream, you still have a fragment of it painted so it could keep your mind from clouding at that time.

Yet you don’t.

At least it doesn’t seem so fit yet. Instead you let the conversation drift, you let her continue to lead you up the steps. And it’s now that you can see you’re being walked to some green cliffs where you spot her two other dragons resting.

“I have heard a lot of great things about you, not only because I have made it my job to keep myself informed, but word travels. I am more than in awe, I am fascinated,” you share sweetly, and make her smile a lot more timidly.

Yet when you reach the cliff her smile begins to falter, a serious and almost threatening look paints on her face as she comes to a stop and faces the ocean.

“If you have been alive this whole time why have you not tried to take what’s yours,” she says seriously. “You have the right claim, you, my brother's last living heir.”

You look away from her and face the ocean as well to watch the horizon as you think of what to say. Something that would sound like you’re not lying. “There’s many reasons, one, I am a woman. My claim is not as strong.”

“But you have a son,” she cuts in.

You nod and peer back at Rhaenar, catching him watching the dragons with awe. “A bastard. In Dorne they might not be shamed, but here they are. They would never accept my son, even if he is my fathers grandson.” You sigh and face her. “There is also time,” you reveal carefully. “My uncle had a plan, we couldn’t just risk ourselves by flying down to Kings Landing and burning everything. We needed a lot of time, ally’s, and resources. I actually was meant to marry your brother, but,” you scoff with a playful smile on your face, and catch her stare. “Before the proposal was officially announced, well, we heard the news he passed.”

The Queen scoffs and smirks. “Maybe it was a good thing,” she interjects, making you slightly furrow your brows in confusion. “I loved my brother, but I don’t think he would’ve made a good husband. Especially not to someone who already had a dragon before him.”

You laugh softly. “Is that so?” You query. “Well I for one was quite excited. More so for the promise of seeing the family I thought I had lost.”

The Queen lowers her gaze before she goes serious again, letting you continue.

“Anyway, before much else could be done my uncle…died, and the dream died with him.” You swallow thickly and let out a deep sigh. “Albeit, I can’t say I ever shared his dream, that's another reason I haven’t tried to claim what’s “mine”. I never had a desire to rule. Not after what happened. That’s why I have not taken the throne, that’s why I am here. Why, I sent Dorne to ally with you.” You meet her gaze and raise your head proudly.

“I don’t want the throne for myself. I want to help you take it,” you share confidently. “I want to take back what is ours with fire and blood, I want Cersei to pay for what her family did to mine. I know,” you sigh. “You have no reason to trust me, but know that I am done hiding and tired of doing nothing. I want my son to be proud of me, I don’t want him to hide anymore either. I just want to help you, at your side, united like family. Just like how Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters did, together.”

Daenerys continues to look at you with a threatening and piercing glare, she lets out a deep breath and looks past her shoulder. And without saying anything both her dragons walk over, causing Rhaenar to step back. When her dragons stand behind her you see the same burning, piercing glare that their mother carries.

“If it’s true, bend the knee,” she orders in a menacing tone. “Swear to me that you nor your son will go against me, that you will fight alongside me and help me win this war to take back what belongs to our family. Swear to me, Y/N Targaryen, and you and your son will have a place in my court. You will keep your title as Princess, your son as Prince. If not….” She pauses and her dragons begin growl. Yet you don’t react out of fear, you hold her gaze and stay calm.

“…I would hate to consider my last living relatives as traitors.” She finishes.

You look back at Rhaenar, and he meets your gaze, and together without hesitation you get down on one knee and look up to meet her gaze. “I swear to you,” you assure her. “I swear I will have no ill intentions. I will not fight against you. I will fight at your side.”

Daenerys begins to smirk and continues to walk over to you to offer you her hand. You’re confused at first, but when you take it she helps you up to your feet and keeps you in front of her for a moment, before she pulls you in for an embrace.

You’re caught off guard for a brief second, but once you feel her grip tighten you return the embrace and clutch onto her with relief, and joy.

Finally after years, here she is. You’re finally together.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Nights were already hard to sleep. Returning to Dragonstone sounded like it could be a solution to your restless nights, to the nightmares that plague your mind, but the bitter night air made it harder. There was some reassurance in the morning when you woke up and saw that meeting Daenerys wasn’t some fever dream. She was real.

As slow as things are between her and you currently considering you only just met, she was a comfort, that instant familiarity. Plus, you shared the restless night and got to speaking about everything you were missing about her current progress of the war, you spoke of other mindless things until the sun broke the sky. After the sun started to rise from the earth, you shared a mutual craving and spent no time finding your dragons.

“What’s on Eraxis back?” Daenerys points to the saddle on your dragon's back as she lowers her neck down to the ground.

“A saddle,” you say slowly and find it surprising she had to ask. “I can’t ride her bareback, not anymore at least, I have the scars on my thighs to prove that,” you laugh softly and approach Eraxis to grab one of her many horns that align her neck. “It helps me steer her too. And since Rhaenar rides her with me, I had it made so he wouldn’t fall off.”

Daenerys approaches Eraxis and then glances at you. “May I?” She asks and points to your dragon's body.

You nod, and watch Daenerys turn and begin to smile at your dragon as she carefully begins to stroke a part of her neck.

“I find it quite easy to ride Drogon with no saddle,” she shows off, making you scoff in amusement. “Then again it’s not like I have had much of an education besides what feels natural, and the few books I did have.”

You hum and smile at her. “Well don’t worry, I am here now. I can teach you all I’ve learned about our family.”

Daenerys eyes drift to you and her gaze softens as a softer smile appears on her lips.

“Now,” you say playfully and begin to climb onto Eraxis. “Let’s fly, yes?” You smirk down at her, and Daenerys begins to grin before she rushes over to Drogon to climb on him.

Since this won’t be a long flight, you don’t bother restraining yourself on her, you just climb on your saddle and grab your handles before you speak to Eraxis in High Valyrian. “<Fly, girl.>”

Without hesitation Eraxis begins to run off the hill, and Drogon follows, creating thunderous stomps on the green hill until both dragons flap their wings and take flight.

At first Daenerys and you are riding side to side, glancing once at one another with playful looks as both dragons gain more momentum and fly higher. However, it’s once Eraxis reaches the clouds that you turn her to her side, exposing her belly to Drogon, before you then drift to the left to hide within the clouds.

Drogon calls out for Eraxis, most likely to know her whereabouts, but Eraxis stays quiet and flaps her wings, blowing air and clouds behind her before she twirls upward rapidly and shoots out above Drogon. Once again the black dragon calls out, and this time Eraxis responds. You then lift your body off the saddle to peek down, catching Daenerys urge Drogon forward so she could lead, instead of being right under you.

You grin at the action and push the handle forward, causing Eraxis to flap her wings harder and get ahead of Drogon with ease. Daenerys looks up and sees, and then as if they have been mentally communicating, Drogon flies up.

Before they both could lose them, you motion Eraxis to fly up as well. Now both dragons have their bellies exposed to one another as you all fly up.

The dragons screech, and you snicker before you lean forward and exclaim happily, “<Dracarys!>”

Eraxis blows out a cloud of fire, and as Drogon was going to approach it, you make Eraxis drift to the side so you both could then begin diving down.

Daenerys doesn’t notice you flying in front of her anymore until she’s past the fire cloud. And when she sees you and Eraxis diving down, she beams and makes Drogon do the same.

Since gravity is what is pulling you down, Daenerys and Drogon don’t take long to catch up, but Eraxis and you do end up beating her to the surface of the ocean water. Albeit before Eraxis could splash in, she instead flies up and only lets her body barely skim above the water, creating ripples on the surface as she flies past.

Drogon and Daenerys on the other hand drift to the side and he skims the tip of his wing in the water as he flies at his side. When he fixes himself he then flies at your side, letting Daenerys and you turn your heads to smile at one another.

Now as little as you have known one another, there was a sense of a connection no one else can understand. For the first time you both could share the joys of flying with another soul, for the first time it wasn’t just the two of you alone in the skies with your dragons. It was now you and her. Her and you. Together.

However, as you flew, as you got closer to the castle, you could now spot Dorne, Greyjoy, and Tyrell ships sailing to Dragonstone. Daenerys sees them too, but instead of flying above them like you, she flies ahead without you. Yet you don’t stay just above them for long, you instead fly to the first Dorne ship leading the way and stay flying by it.

And since only the people you were truly closest to, and a few trusted guards knew of Eraxis, those who didn’t gawked as they saw you on a dragon, and as they literally saw a dragon. Those who did know about Eraxis however, like Tyene, looked excited and happy to see her again. Your other sisters climbed out to deck to watch Eraxis too, but unlike Tyene, they watched with more calm and collected demeanors.

Once you landed on the sand to wait for them to get to shore, Tyene shares that same excitement for your dragon when she arrives. She didn’t even bother to greet you.

“Eraxis!” She exclaims and rushes past you to reach Eraxis. And since Tyene, Nymaria, Tyrstane, and Obara helped you raise her, Eraxis was comfortable around their presence and didn't fail to let herself get caressed.

“This is where you wanted to come to so badly?” Nymeria asks in a teasing manner as she and Obara approach you after they climb off the boat.

You look back at the castle gates and nod. “This is where I was born…albeit I do prefer Dornes heat, and the Water Gardens.”

“It’s very bland,” Obara doesn't hold back from saying.

You hum as you can’t help but agree since you are used to more color because of where you were raised.

“How is it going?” You hear your late uncle's paramour, Ellaria, ask as she approaches all of you.

You glance at her and swallow thickly before you speak. “Good. I’ve made peace with my aunt, we were just bonding.” You meet her gaze briefly, but can’t stand looking at her for too long because all you see when you look at her is her with a knife in your uncle's stomach; all you can see is his death, you remember him dying in your arms after you were too late to save him.

You remember pain and grief, and feel it all over again. Ellaria is only alive now because of the love your uncle Oberyn had for her, you only tolerate her because she's Tyene’s mother. Otherwise she would no longer be here.

“Rhaenar is inside,” you say and look back at your sisters. “He’s excited to see you all again. It’s as if he hasn’t seen you in months.”

Obara smirks at the mention, and before you could spend more time out in the chilly air they follow you inside.

——

*LATER*

“If you want the Iron Throne, take it,” Yara Greyjoy tells Daenerys, making her turn to face the table you're all gathered around. “We have an army, a fleet, and four dragons now. We should hit Kings Landing now. Hard. With everything we have. The city will fall within a day.”

You scoff to yourself and drop your gaze to the table.

“If we turn the dragons loose, tens of thousands will die in the firestorm,” Tyrion protests.

“It’s called war,” Ellaria interjects. “You don’t have the stomach for it, scurry back into hiding.”

You roll your eyes and proceed to lift your leg over the other.

“I know how you wage war,” Tyrion snaps. “We don’t poison little girls here. Myrcella was innocent.”

“She was a Lannister. There are no innocent Lannister’s,” Ellaria says, and to some degree you can agree with her. But not about what she did, not about Myrcella; like Tyrion said she was innocent, she was also never cruel, not to you, not to Rhaenar. You can understand Tyrion’s anger. Yet you can’t accept their bickering, not if you’re meant to be ally’s now.

“My great regret is that Oberyn died fighting for you,” Ellaria continues to spat, finally causing you to cut in.

“Ellaria, that's enough. Please. Tyrion is the hand of the Queen, you will treat him with respect.” Without bothering to look back you glance over at Tyrion and sigh. “More so because we both know my uncle died fairly. Tyrion is no one to blame for my uncle's carelessness. Besides…” you peer back to side eye her. “You would find it wise to try and forgive him just as I have forgiven you for what you have done.”

There is a bit of silence for a lingering second before Ellaria talks back. “Yes, Princess.”

You hum and let the meeting continue.

“I am not here to be Queen of the ashes,” Daenerys finally inputs.

“That’s very nice to hear,” Lady Olenna of House Tyrell interjects. “Of course, I can’t remember a Queen who was better loved than my granddaughter. The common people loved her. The nobles loved her. And what is left of her now? Ashes. Commoners, nobles, they’re all just children, really. They won’t obey you unless they fear you.”

You glance down, clasp your hands over your knee and let out a small sigh. “May I add something?” You interject and gain everyone’s attention.

“Go on,” Daenerys encourages you.

You sit back and share what comes to mind. “A century back, when our ancestors were fighting amongst each other in the Dance of Dragons…it’s those same commoners that raided the Dragonpit and killed our dragons.” You glance at Daenerys, and then at Lady Olenna. “And I know for damn sure that dragons were feared back then as they are now. Burning Kingslanding down will turn everyone against us. We have to be smarter. We have to make them fear us without killing the people.”

Daenerys nods in comprehension and pulls her gaze away from you to look at Lady Olenna. “I’m grateful to you, Lady Olenna, for your counsel,” Daenerys says. “I’m grateful to all of you. But you have chosen to follow me, I will not attack King's Landing. We,” she makes her word clear. “Will not attack King's Landing.”

You nod in agreement, but Lady Olenna on the other hand doesn’t seem so convinced.

“Then how do you mean to take the Iron Throne?” She questions. “By asking nicely?”

“We will lay siege to the capital surrounding the city on all sides,” Daenerys shares. “Cersei will have the Iron Throne, but no food for her army or the people.”

“But we won’t use Dothraki and Unsullied,” Tyrion adds after your aunt. “Cersei will try to rally the Lord of Westeros by appealing to their loyalty.” He begins to walk around the table as he continues to speak. “Their love for their country. If we besiege the city with foreigners, we prove her point. Our army should be Westerosi.”

“And I suppose we’re providing the Westerosi?” Ellaria questions,

Tyrion nods. “You are,” he agrees. “Lady Greyjoy will escort you home to Sunspear.”

You slowly begin to put your leg back and lean in as your interest is piqued.

“And her Iron Fleet will ferry the Dornish army,” Tyrion continues, “back up to King's Landing. The Dornish will lay siege to the capital alongside the Tyrell army. Two great kingdoms United against Cersei.”

“So,” Lady Olenna quips. “Your master plan is to use our armies. Forgive me for asking, but why did you bother to bring your own?”

Tyrion places down a dragon figurine that represents Daenerys and her people as he begins to explain and walk again. “The Unsullied will have another objective. For decades House Lannister has been the true power in Westeros. And the seat of that power is Casterly Rock. Greyworm—” you have learned that he is one the Queen's most trusted war advisors, and the commander of the Unsullied army, an old friend now to describe it better.

“…will dial for the Rock and take it,” Tyrion continues and knocks down a lion figure to place down the dragon, leaving a silence to linger thereafter as everyone takes in what was explained.

Yet, it’s you who breaks that silence rather quickly to comment on something else. “In regards to the upcoming siege on Kings Landing, I will meet up with them on Eraxis.”

Both Lady Greyjoy, and Ellaria turn their heads to look at you, and agree with their look alone.

Yet...“no, that would not be wise,” Tyrion interjects. “People still believe you’re dead, Princess. We can use that to our advantage.”

You scoff and argue, “what better way to reveal myself than to stand with my people? Cersei’s fleet will be there as well, I will fight with my people.”

Tyrion looks back at Daenerys to share a quick look before they look to Lord Varys, and all come to a speechless agreement.

“Go then,” Daenerys says. “When the day comes you can meet with the army and stand to fight alongside them.”

You offer her a kind smile and nod. “Thank you, my Queen.”

Daenerys offers you a nod herself, and then rather than letting the meeting proceed you share one more question.

“What about the North? Have we heard anything from the King?”

Lord Varys steps forward and responds this time. “No. Not yet.”

You hum and sit back to continue on the matter. “Well, as we well know, the North is made up of proud people. The Starks as well have just taken back their house, what will we do if they want to keep being an independent Kingdom?”

“You have dragons,” Lady Greyjoy interjects.

You scoff. “So did Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters when they wanted Dorne to pledge their allegiance to them. What did we do? We resisted for years.” You remind them.

Daenerys slightly narrows her gaze and questions your comment. “What is it you’re trying to say then?”

You begin to smirk and meet her gaze. “Well if they come on their own accord. Listen to them. I doubt they’ll come just to bend the knee, no, they probably want something. If they resist.” You pause briefly. “Then offer them a marriage proposal. What better way to unite the grand Kingdoms than through marriage of the Queen and King?”

Daenerys quirks her brow in disbelief to your suggestion, and Tyrion speaks for her. “That could work. Winter is among us. They will need food for their people, what better way to sway them than to bargain. It will be hard to decline.

Daenerys swallows thickly and interjects. “I hear you, Princess. I agree, but we will decide what to do when the time comes.”

You hesitate before you nod agreement, causing the silence to return for a moment before Daenerys continues to interject. “Do I have your support?”

Lady Greyjoy steps up first. “You have mine,” she adds.

Without hesitation you follow, “Dorne is with you, Your Grace.”

Lastly Olenna nods agreement, and with that this meeting is settled.

“Thank you all,” Daenerys ends the meeting. “Lady Olenna, may I speak with you alone?”

You get out of your seat and walk out of the room alongside Ellaria since you’re both going to the same place.

And it’s a quiet walk at first, you both wait for everyone else to pass by and get out of earshot first. Even then when you were approaching the hall your family was in, neither of you could right away say what you both had to say.

First actually, when you were reaching your chambers, you spoke to the guard bringing in your things. “How are my paintings? Did they make it alright?”

The Dornish guard nods. “Yes, my Lady.”

“Princess,” Ellaria corrects him. “Y/N is a Princess, you shall address her as such.

The guard looks nervously between her and you and immediately bows his head. “My apologies, my Princess.”

You shake your head. “It is quite alright. Go on please.”

The guard nods. “Neither your, nor the…Prince’s items got damaged.”

You offer him a faint smile. “Thank you,” you say and then continue to the hall.

This time Ellaria finds the courage to speak. “How can you not be angry? How can you even look at him after what he’s done to your family?”

You sigh and begin to mess with the rings on one hand. “You know why, Ellaria. He is not mine to make leave, nor is he at fault for my uncle's death. You have accepted the facts of his death. We were there that day, we saw.” You glance over at her, and she meets your gaze. “In regards to…my mother and siblings, it is other Lannisters I set my anger on. I suggest you do the same if you want to keep having a chair at that council, I can't let your anger get in the way.”

Ellaria lets her gaze linger on you as she scowls for a brief moment before she nods. “I will try,” she says.

You nod and offer her a faint smile. “That's all I ask,” you tell her before you open the hall doors and make yourselves known to your sisters and your son.

“Mother!” Rhaenar greets and breaks away from his fighting stance to run over and greet you.

You grin down at him. “Hello, my Sunspot, what have you been doing?”

He points back to Obara. “Aunt Obara and I were just training.”

You smirk and ruffle his dark curly hair. “Did she kick your ass?” You tease him as you make your way to the wine tray.

Obara begins to snicker. “He held his own for a few minutes. It is a much better improvement.”

You grab a cup and serve yourself some Dornish wine before walking over to sit with your back facing the fire so it’s easier to face your family. Whilst Rhaenar returns to Obara to pick up the stuff they had around them.

“Dorne will be part of the siege on King’s Landing,” you share with your sisters.

Tyene stands from her chair and begins to smirk. “Are we?” She questions. “Does that mean we can finally kill Cersei?”

You snicker. “I wish it were that easy. Albeit if all goes well, we will be one step closer.”

“Will you accompany us?” Nymeria asks.

You nod and take a sip of wine before speaking. “I will. Once you reach King’s Landing I will go on Eraxis and help fight the enemy fleet.”

“We will be done in no time then,” Tyene says cockily.

You smirk and nod in agreement. You then proceed to take a longer sip of wine, and when you set your cup down you share a thought you've had since you knew you were coming here.

“I have a proposal for you, sisters.” You sit up and look between the three of them. “After this siege, I want the three of you to join me in the fights to come. I want you to be by my side.”

“Like what? Your ladies in waiting?” Obara asks teasingly.

You scoff and shake your head. “Not quite. More so my protectors. I may have Eraxis, but one can never be so sure now that I am going to reveal myself to Westeros again. Of course only if you want, I won’t force you.”

All three girls look at one another, and Tyene looks at her mother before the three of them look back at you.

“I will join you,” Tyene says first. “Father would have wanted us to stick together. Besides,” she begins to smirk mischievously. “It seems there’s a lot of Dothraki men here I would like to get to know.”

You smile, and then look at Nymeria as she interjects. “I will also join your side.”

Lastly, Obara walks over to be in your pherial view and says her response. “I will also join you too, sister.”

“Yes!” Rhaenar exclaims as he runs over to be a part of the conversation. “Does it mean we won’t have to be apart?”

You glance at him and assure him. “Yes. Exactly.”

Rhaenar grins with excitement, causing Tyene to ruffle his hair whilst he turns to face Ellaria. “What about you aunt Ellaria?” He asks. “Will you stay with us?”

Ellaria draws in a deep breath and shakes her head. “No, little warrior,” she sighs. “I will have to stay with our armies. But I will come see you frequently.”

Rhaenar gets comforted by her response and then takes a seat amongst you all.

In the meanwhile you lift your cup of wine and offer a toast. “Thank you, sisters. And to our bond, may it only get stronger.”

All three of them lift their cups and Tyene is the one that interjects with excitement. “To us! And to our battles to come!”

——

*A YEAR BACK*

The doors locked. The windows are sealed.

Why—

Footsteps are approaching the door.

“Rhaenar?” You call out in hopes it’s your son. “Rhaenar, is that you?”

The footsteps stop and a thud sounds at your door. You run back to your door and try to open them again, but to no avail.

“Rhaenar?” You call again and try to peek through the doors creak. But there’s nothing there. You get on your hands and knees to peek at the creek below and see only boots.

“Hey! Let me out! Guards! Let me out!” You yell and jump back up to your feet. “What’s the meaning of this?!” You pound your fists on the door before you begin to kick it. “Let me out! Let me out! Let me out or I will feed you to my dragon!”

There's a shift at the sound of that threat. Yet the damned door remains closed.

“Do you hear me out there? I will feed you to my dragon,” you curse and step back to look around your room for anything that could knock this door down. “Let me talk to my uncle!” You yell as you search your room until you think of your daggers, and sneak over to snatch them from the chest.

“I will give you one more chance,” you sneer and tiptoe back to the door to pick the lock. “Open…” you pause as you hear the lock click. “The door,” you mutter before you throw the doors open, startling the guards that were for some reason placed outside.

“What's going on?” You demand to know from the guards as you point your daggers at them. “Where is my uncle?”

The guard to the right clenches his jaw and gives you an answer. “Go back to your room, Princess.”

You scoff and then lunge at him to throw him back to the wall and point your blade at his throat. “Tell me now,” you sneer and side-eye the other guard who keeps his hands out to show that he won’t hurt you. “What is going on? It’s only a matter of minutes I assume before my dragon comes to me. Should I throw you to her first? Or you,” you point at the watching guard.

“The prince's chambers, he’s there,” the watching guard spits out.

“See,” you scoff and drop your dagger before letting the guard go and stepping back. “Easy. Next time you disobey, I will make Eraxis eat you.” You offer them a sweet smile before you turn and storm over to your uncle's chambers.

And as you pass halls and step outside, guards begin to look at you weirdly, they pass odd looks between one another and give you second looks as they watch you storm past them. The closer you get to your uncle's chambers, the more suspicious they get. They even try to stop you, but you just ignore them and quicken your pace.

Once you begin to see the pool outside his quarters, the guards try to grab you, but you just swiftly slip past them without hassle.

“Princess wait!” One of them yells before you can turn the corner of the patio to reach your uncle's quarters. “Princess!”

He runs after you, and as guards around his pool see you approaching, they unstiffen from their stance and try to rush over to you. Yet you just run past them until you get to the steps of the deck. That’s when you notice the dead Maester and a pool of blood dripping down the steps. As you slowly look up you see Areo Hotah dead next to where Tyene is standing. Next to her is Ellaria pulling a dagger out of your uncle.

“No!” You immediately cry out and gain the attention of your cousin Tyene. “No!” You try to run over to him as he falls to the ground, but Tyene runs over to hold you back. “No!” You sob.

Your uncle Doran flips over and reaches his hand out to you. You try to pull away from Tyene, but guards then help her keep you away.

“When was the last time you left this palace?” Ellaria snaps at your uncle. “You don’t know your own people. Their disgust for you.”

Your uncle begins to cough out blood, but he keeps trying to drag himself away, making you try to squirm with more force to try and reach him.

“Elia Martell, raped and murdered, and you did nothing,” Ellaria spats out, causing you to hit the guards harder. “Oberyn Martell butchered, and you did nothing. You cloud your niece's head with that same ignorance.”

Your uncle flips over again and begins to pant.

“…You’re not a Dornishman. You’re not our prince.” Ellaria finishes spitting out.

“My son Trystane,” your uncle mutters.

Ellaria turns around and scoffs. “Your son is weak just like you. And weak men will never rule Dorne again,” she says spitefully. And finally the guards let you free so you quickly rush over to your uncle and fall down on your knees next to him.

“Uncle,” you cry and cradle him in your arms. “I’m here. I’m here. I will help.”

Your uncle groans, and slowly pulls his bloody hand away from his wound to cup your cheek. “My sweet y/n, you have the power to change the world, do not let vengeance cloud your judgment.”

You sob and shake your head. “I won’t, I swear to you,” you whisper, knowing deep in your heart that there was no saving him anymore.

He lets out labored breath and offers you a wobbly smile. “You have your mothers smile, you know that?” He whispers. “Smile for me, one last time, will you?”

A sob escapes your lips, but you muster a wobbly smile before he takes his last breath and drops his hand from your cheek.

“No,” you mutter as tears stream down your face, and your heart feels as if someone had just stabbed it. “No, no, no!”

“It was for your own good,” you hear Ellaria say from behind you. “Now you can come out of your uncle's shadow. You can finally fulfill your destiny and take back what is yours!”

You swipe your hands over your uncle's eyes to close them, and then slowly put him down.

“Now you can stop living in fear,” she continues.

You let out a shaky breath and drop your head, choosing to ignore her, choosing not to act out on your desire to stab her through the heart.

“Y/N,” she mutters and grabs your shoulder. “Now…” she trails off as the sound of flapping wings sounds from the sky only seconds before Eraxis reveals herself and lands down on the ground, only barely managing to fit her body in the courtyard.

You keep staring at the ground regardless and only hear her growl at Ellaria as she stands stiffly behind you.

“Sister!” Tyene cries out, but doesn’t move.

Eraxis breath slowly unfurls out of her nose, blowing back Ellaria’s dress.

“I watched my own mother die,” you whisper in a quivering voice. “Every night in my dreams. Of course I didn’t know what it meant then, I was only four,” you feign a laugh. “And well it was only fragments of her death, pieces I couldn’t place together. Not until years later. And now it lives over and over in my mind.” You stand up from the ground and let out a shaky breath.

“Do you want to know how that feels, losing a mother?” You ask Tyene, and turn, seeing Eraxis keep her eyes pierced on Ellaria.

“Please,” Tyene pleads to you.

“Do not hate your sisters,” Ellaria interjects, making your eyes snap to her. “They had no fault in it. It was all my doing.”

You swallow thickly and slowly begin to walk around her. “Yes,” you say. “I figured as much. Only you are capable enough to fill their heads with poison.” As you reach Eraxis side you pierce your glare on Ellaria as well, mirroring your dragon's same burning glare.

Ellaria scoffs and lifts her head with confidence. “Tell me what you would have done if I hadn’t killed your uncle?” She spats. “He was a plague. You would have kept hiding, kept dying your hair pretending you’re someone you're not, you would have kept hiding your dragon. You would have kept living in ignorance here. It’s time to wake up y/n!”

Perhaps she’s right. Perhaps you have lived your entire life in fear. But she still killed him. And you still couldn’t avoid it.

“I am only sparing your life because of Tyene,” you change the subject, and Eraxis begins to lose her scowl and begins to whimper and lean her head against you. “Betray me again and I will burn you alive.”

Eraxis pulls her snout out the deck and then lifts her head as you walk over to begin mounting her.

Once you’re on your saddle you grab your handles, and Eraxis flies off.

——

*NOW*

“Lower,” you tell Rhaenar and walk over to push his arms down a bit lower. “Pull your arms down.”

The boy sighs. “Uncle Oberyn said this way,” he tries to argue.

You nod and move back. “Yes, I understand, but there are many fighting styles, you have come close to mastering his way, now you must use different tactics,” you advise him and slide your foot back to once again stand in your fighting stance. “If you want to become a great warrior you must know much more.”

Rhaenar sighs and mirrors your stance. He then looks at your blade and lunges, but you quickly change your stance and swipe off his feet.

“That’s no—” Rhaenar cuts himself off and instead pushes himself to his feet.

You drop your head and laugh softly to yourself.

“You did better,” Daenerys tries to assure him as she watches him train—out of simple curiosity she said. “Less complaining this time.”

You chuckle before you turn around and watch the boy scratch the back of his head whilst he walks to grab a spear off the rack.

“Perhaps the young prince could spar with me soon,” Greyworm offers from the Queens side, as he too was curious to watch your morning training session.

You glance at the soldier and then at your son. “How does that sound, Rhaenar, hm? Maybe Greyworm will be a much kinder teacher than I am.”

Rhaenar turns with his spear in hand and offers the soldier a grin that goes from ear to ear. “Yes I would love it!” He exclaims happily.

Greyworm smiles faintly and nods. Daenerys smiles at the boy, and you part your lips to tell him something, but the door then opens and Tyrion and Qhono, the Dothraki Lieutenant, walks in behind him.

“My Queen, Princess,” Tyrion says, and gains the attention of everyone in the room. “Your guest ship has been spotted docking at shore.”

Daenerys nods in comprehension, letting The Hand turn to leave. Qhono albeit lingers and meets your gaze, making you smirk at him before you turn to face Rhaenar. Daenerys catches your interaction but doesn’t say anything about it.

“Go change out of your training clothes,” you tell the boy. “When you’re done go to the Throne room.”

Without argument Rhaenar puts away his sparring weapons and does as he’s told.

Before long you also go and change out of your training outfit, deciding to put on a long red dress that perhaps is too revealing for the chilly weather of Dragonstone. The long matching red cloak that attaches under the golden dragon scales on your shoulders provides some warmth, but then again you never much mind being too cold or too hot in something if it means looking good.

And sure, The King of the North wasn’t yours to impress, if it came to it it’s not you he’d marry, but you still do choose to show off your golden chained gloves that connects to your golden rings, and matches with the golden breast plates that was elegantly carved to go over the dress. You still didn’t choose to cover your exposed chest, or a part of your sides, or your arms. Because the truth is, if it were a choice to choose between armor and dresses, you’d choose the expensive and most beautiful dresses, even for dragon riding.

And well there is maybe Qhono that you are trying to impress.

“Come,” you call Rhaenar over once you walk in the Throne room.

Rhaenar sighs and lets you walk to where he was standing already.

“Your pin is all crooked,” you let him know and unpin the dragon pin to correct it. “There. Better. Handsome.” You pat his shoulder.

Rhaenar rolls his eyes out of embarrassment, making you laugh softly before you fix his hair.

“Mother,” he whispers sharply and pulls back to then glance back at the Queen.

Daenerys catches his embarrassed glance and shoots him a teasing smile.

“Fine,” you scoff lightheartedly. “I’ll go.” You then go and stand in your spot to wait patiently.

Once those doors open, the first one to walk in is Qhono, Tyrion, and Daenerys most trusted advisor Missendei of Naath follow, but you watch Qhono, as he watches you while he walks past you. You don’t notice the King of The North right away, not even when Missendei says all of Daenerys titles, you instead then look at your rings when Qhono is out of sight until you hear your name.

“…and the Princess Y/N Targaryen Martell, Princess of Dorne, daughter of late Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.”

You finally blink and look up, finally taking in the sight of the King of the North, and noticing that his eyes are already on you. They were on you for most the time he’s been in here but you didn’t notice, not until now.

Until now you see that he isn’t as tall as you imagined Northern men to be, he isn’t as musclary built, or as hairy. He’s quite small, more lean. His hair is dark, as dark as perhaps a moonless night. His eyes aren’t rough, they’re soft and a very pretty dark brown you can get lost in. He has soft features, scars on his face that he wears more than well.

The King of the North is handsome and breath-catching. Much to your surprise.

“And Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, son of the princess.” Missendei finishes introducing everyone that she needed to, leaving a very long silence as the King of the North looks at his advisor.

“This is Jon Snow,” the advisor reveals, letting said man glance at the Queen. “He’s King in the North.”

You smile at the introduction and once again catch the softened gaze of Jon Snow, the King of the North. His gaze lingers on yours, as your eyes linger on him. Neither of you dare to look away, it seems in a way you’re both too mesmerized. For that brief moment until Daenerys spoke up all that existed was just the two of you.

It was such a…weird and new feeling. One you never want to lose.

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smutcraft · 22 days ago

Text

Little Dragon, Loose Lips | Daemon Targaryen x Fem! Reader

"I want to hear you cry out for me, little dragon," Daemon growls against your ear as his hips pick up speed. "Let the world know that I ride you, and you will take no other."

Smut ahead! 18+

Gif Credit to daenerys-stormborn

When Daemon Targaryen has a chance encounter with you during your betrothal tour in King's Landing, he is reminded of how infuriatingly indifferent you act around him. So when he learns the maesters are concocting a harmless "truth draught," he decides to take matters into his own hands and force out the truth of what you truly think of him, once and for all.

Words: ~5,000

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60314251

“May I help you, Lady Vaella?”

You freeze at the sound of Prince Daemon's voice. As always, you can't decide if the Rogue Prince is being sincere or sarcastic. Does he know you’re in the process of fleeing to your chambers before your brother Laenor can summon the first suitors on your betrothal tour? You glare at Daemon from outside the throne room, opting to say nothing in the end.

"You look like you're caught in the middle of something...intriguing," Daemon observes, quirking an eyebrow. "Do I need to repeat myself?"

At his haughty tone, you draw yourself up. "No need," you reply curtly. You don’t trust Daemon Targaryen as far as you can throw him -- none of the Velayrons do. "No need for your help, either, my prince. I'm quite busy at the moment, thank you."

"Is that so," Daemon says, clearly amused as he draws nearer. "And what exactly keeps Lady Vaella busy when the most eligible bachelors of King's Landing will soon be awaiting her presence?" Now within arm's reach, he folds his arms and lifts his chin to await your reply. "Perhaps she’s already under the thrall of someone special, hidden away from court?"

You glance anxiously behind Daemon. To your horror, you can hear the approach of your suitors. On impulse, you seize Prince Daemon by the arm and drag him around the corner and out of sight - you don’t trust him not to alert Laenor and his entourage if left to his own devices. To his credit, Daemon allows himself to be led away with his usual sinuous grace.

"My 'special someones' are none of your business, Prince Daemon,” you hiss under your breath. “Loose lips sink ships, as we say in House Valyron, and mine are sealed."

Daemon grins. "You are quite right to put me in my place, my lady. My curiosity often gets the better of me." True to form, his gaze wanders slyly to appreciate the flushed skin of your décolletage.

You’re on the verge of rebuking the prince when you hear the sound of Laenor's voice drawing closer. "Vaella?" Laenor calls out, equal parts vexed and perplexed, by the sound of it.

"Your suitors must be anxious to meet you,” Daemon says quietly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Shall I distract them while the lady makes her escape?"

"Distract - ? You would do that?" you marvel under your breath. Your pleasant surprise is tinged with suspicion. Daemon Targaryen is not known for being particularly helpful or charitable, after all. Before you can accept his offer, however, Laenor stumbles upon the two of you.

"Ah, Vaella! Here you are, sister," Laenor says grandly, though his wide eyes betray his horror at seeing his sister alone with the Rogue Prince. "Prince Daemon was just showing you the way to the throne room, was he?"

"Indeed I was," Daemon replies smoothly, stepping aside with his hands folded behind his back. "It seems Lady Vaella had....lost her way." He bows slightly in your direction before sauntering off, leaving you behind with your disappointing entourage of prospective husbands.

*****

Unbeknownst to all, Daemon watches the throne room’s proceedings through the window of a hidden alcove at the back of the throne room. Most of the men gathered before Vaella Velayron are pompous old fools, though a younger Stark lad appears to catch her eye. Ser Eyan Stark of Winterfell is certainly the least horrible of her sycophantic options, but he is still an unbearably grim and ill-humored marriage prospect for Vaella – and nowhere near worthy of such a Velayron lady, thinks Daemon before slinking from the alcove with his hood raised.

His mind swirls with thoughts, plans, potential outcomes. How best to procure what he wants?

First, a visit to their ever-pliable king, Daemon decides. And then a visit to the grand maester.

*****

As fate would have it, you encounter Daemon again the following morning, before breakfast. Once again, you don’t see him at first - only now, instead of lurking away from the throne room, you’re pacing back and forth before the dining hall entrance. Though you don't know it, Daemon slows his approach and casts his eye along a side corridor so that you believe yourself to spot him first.

“Daemon!” you whisper urgently. As soon as a passing servant has rounded the corner and out of sight, you grip his arm and tug him away, around a different side corridor. Already the gesture feels familiar.

"Good morrow, Lady Vaella," Daemon says with an easy grin. "Did you enjoy the attention of our most eligible Westerosi bachelors?"

“One of your handmaidens has just informed me,” you hiss, ignoring his attempt at coyness, “that King Viserys plans to foist *you* off upon me instead.” You force yourself not to look away from Daemon’s face, curious as to whether he was already aware of this possibility - and his instinctive reaction to it, if not.

But Daemon's eyes merely flicker with their bottomless amusement. "Is that so?” he asks. “My dear brother seems to have quite an imagination when it comes to matchmaking." He pauses, considering you. "But what do you think, Lady Vaella? Do you desire me to be your lord and husband?"

You sweep your eyes around the room before satisfying yourself that no waitstaff linger nearby to eavesdrop.

"What *I* desire is of no consequence, as you know. Were the decision in my hands, I'd prefer a kind and gentle husband - and you'll pardon me for saying so, my prince, but you are not known for your kind or gentle nature."

Daemon snorts. "You reveal what little you know of me, my lady. You suppose me to be nothing more than the Rogue Prince, the one who is feared and whispered about in corridors. You've not considered that there's more to me than meets the eye."

At the approach of a servant, you quickly step back, keeping a more respectable distance between the two of you for the sake of propriety. At this, Daemon looks more amused than ever.

"Perhaps I could persuade you to find some enjoyment in this arrangement," Daemon continues, his voice low and husky. He takes a step closer, and his gaze slides down your form before returning to your eyes.

"You are a scoundrel, Daemon," you snap, your face coloring. "You haven't a shred of respect for any woman, have you?"

"I'm a Targaryen," Daemon replies smoothly. He takes another step, his chest mere inches from yours. "What we have is what we want, when we want it. And I want you, my lady."

You slap the Rogue Prince before you can help yourself. You cannot seem to string two words together, however, as you stand there with your chest heaving.

Daemon catches your wrist as your hand drops. He studies you, his eyes unreadable for a moment before he chuckles softly. "I think I like you more each day, Lady Vaella." With a nod and a wink, he turns away from you, releasing your wrist. "Get used to the idea, little dragon. *I* won't be so easily deterred." With that, he strides away, leaving you standing in the corridor, your hand stinging.

You breakfast in silence, your mind whirling. To your surprise, no mention is made of your new marriage prospect, and you are able to forget your worries - at least for a little while. As soon as you’re alone, you march straight to the Dragon Pit to have Duskfyre saddled. A peaceful ride along the coast of the Narrow Sea is just what you need.

Yet even hundreds of feet over King's Landing, you cannot seem to get away from the most irksome Targaryen. After an hour or so you recognize the distant shape of Caraxes, Daemon's spindly dragon, with the Rogue Prince himself astride. Curious, you lean forward, commanding Duskfyre closer. In no time you’ve come up alongside Daemon and Caraxes, coasting so closely over the water that the ocean spray mists your skin.

You raise your slapping hand in a teasing wave to the prince, your mood more buoyant now thanks to the fresh air and sun. You will not be reduced to girlish attacks or petulant sulking any longer, you decide - you will meet Daemon on whatever battlefield he chooses.

Daemon tilts his head back, grinning at you and Duskfyre. You can’t help but admire his regal confidence atop his dragon as he lifts his own hand to return the greeting. "I see you've decided to come play with the big boys, my lady," he calls out, his voice ringing over the wind.

It's true enough that Daemon is much larger than you, and Caraxes is slightly larger than Duskfyre. However, the unusual shape of Duskfyre's wings allows your dragon to twist and turn most unexpectedly. You use this to your advantage now, playfully commanding Duskfyre in High Valyrian to ambush your company by clipping a wing against the ocean's surface. You grin as the deluge of water thoroughly soaks Daemon and startles Caraxes.

Daemon's sputter of surprise carries over the water. "I see you've learned to play to your strengths!" he shouts, his begrudging laughter carrying over the roar of the wind and sea. "My lady is more formidable than I thought." He steers Caraxes higher into the air with an easy grace, a grin never leaving his face.

"And what might be your strengths, my prince?" you call in reply.

"That is only for a wife to know," he calls back, his tone teasing. He nudges Caraxes higher and banks around, waving goodbye with a flippant smile.

You are left with much to ponder in his wake. Seeing Daemon's easy companionship with his dragon has softened your in a way you hadn't expected. The bond he shares with Caraxes is obvious. Perhaps the Rogue Prince is not quite as awful as your family has made him out to be...

*****

Later than evening, exhausted from a long day of flying, you retire to a small library near the Red Keep to read before bed. You’ve barely cracked the cover of a tome about the First Men, however, when Daemon appears in the doorway with two goblets in hand.

"Would our guest enjoy a nightcap of mead before retiring for the evening?" he asks softly, his tone smooth, unassuming.

You accept the goblet he holds out to you, nodding your thanks without a second thought. "To the imprisonment of marriage," you toast, raising your goblet to Daemon's. After taking a sip, however, your eyes widen, and you hasten to add, "Apologies. What a tasteless thing to hear so soon after the loss of your lady wife."

"Fear not, my lady. The late Lady Rhea is the least of my concern at present." Daemon raises his own goblet, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he drinks deeply from it. As he sets the cup down, he continues in a low murmur, "Your thoughts, on the other hand, concern me very much.”

You match his greedy drink from your own goblet of mead, which tastes differently than it did at supper, more like honeysuckle and melon. "My thoughts?" you repeat, confused. "Whatever on?"

"The ones that dance behind those pretty eyes of yours. I imagine they're filled with desires and secrets just waiting to be discovered." You merely snort in reply, but Daemon watches you closely, with a look that’s almost…expectant. As if he’s waiting for something. "I'm afraid to disappoint you, Daemon, but my 'pretty eyes' are filled with no such thing. Unfortunately for you, I'm a very simple character. What you see is what you get."

Daemon chuckles softly, his smirk returning. "Oh, I don't know about that. But perhaps your dreams are more vivid than your waking life?" He leans closer, lowering his voice to an intimate whisper. "Tell me about the dreams you keep hidden, my lady."

You finish your goblet of mead as Daemon's last words sink in. "Why this sudden interest in my dreams and secrets?" you ask with an eyebrow quirked.

In the next breath, however, as if someone were plucking the words from your mouth, you add: "I once feigned a fever while the Grand Maester was away just so his apprentice would examine me in private."

Daemon's eyes widen slightly. Unbeknownst to you, a serum intended for a criminal trial this evening is already working its effect on you, and the prince is more than intrigued to hear more from you. "And what happened when the young maester came to check on your well-being?" he asks, his voice huskier than before.

"I undressed under the covers and pretended to be only half-awake when he arrived," you continue without hesitation. What in the seven hells is happening?

"And then?" Daemon prompts, his voice thick, his eyes unwavering from yours.

Another torrent of damning words escape your lips: "I saw him grow hard. But he was a man of infuriatingly high scruples and left without touching me as I desired." Your face reddens further as you continue, "Afterward, I dreamed of him giving me a sponge bathe and granting my release with only his fingers. Since then I still grow wet whenever he attends to me with the Grand Maester."

“Do you now," Daemon's voice deepens as he processes your words, his eyes fixed on your flushed face. "What else do you dream about during the night?" His hand reaches out to brush against your exposed arm.

You jump at his touch as if shocked. Laying eyes on your goblet, suspicion dawns much too late. "I dream about you, my prince.” The words pass your lips you with a jolt. You immediately brace your hands over your mouth to prevent any more from escaping.

"And what do I do in these dreams?" Daemon asks, his voice huskier than ever.

You merely shake your head and spring to your feet to get away from him. But Daemon shifts and easily blocks your path, looking almost predatory in the way he towers over you.

He moves closer, leaning down to whisper into your ear. "You may as well speak plainly. There's no use resisting me now." His fingers gently brush against the backs of your hands, attempting to pry them away from your mouth.

You give a muffled cry of anguish and attempts to dart around Daemon, the color high in your cheeks. You keep your hands clenched tight over your lips, which are already trembling, on the verge of revealing all. You’d sooner die than admit to the fantasies you’ve harbored about Daemon Targaryen.

Daemon grabs you by your arm, pulling you back into his grasp before you can escape. "Vaella," he growls low in his throat, the intensity of his gaze burning through yours. Clearly, he’s determined to learn your secrets one way or another.

You do your level best to squirm free from his grip, but with your slight frame, you’re simply no match for Daemon's height and brute strength. He seizes your forearms in his hands and looks in your eyes, relishing your anguish before forcing your hands to your sides.

"Oh, by the Seven, Daemon," you groan. "I've dreamed of you, of us..." You breathe in frantic gasps, fighting to regain control over your speech, but it's no use. "I dream of us...doing things...that would shock even the lowest whores of Flea Bottom."

Daemon's grin widens as the words spill from your lips. "Tell me," he breathes, moving closer until he's almost nose-to-nose with you, the front of his breeches stiffened. "You'll have to share all of your dreams with me, my lady. I won't rest until you do."

You shudder and speak with your eyes unable to raise above Daemon's chest. “I was once in disguise on the street of silk when I heard two women speaking of the Rogue Prince's prowess with his tongue, and that night I - "

You press your face into Daemon's chest before your last words can be heard.

But Daemon only tightens his grip your shoulders and smiles wickedly before kissing the top of your head. "Fear not, Lady Vaella. I daresay you'll enjoy your confessions."

With this, he forces you against the wall of the library, leaving you with no more options to stifle your speech.

"I pleasured myself with thoughts of your face between my legs," you blurt, your face a mortified red. "And I dreamt of you lashing me to the bedpost, when another prostitute spoke of you restraining her.”

Daemon's eyes darken at the mention of his whorish escapades. He moves closer still, his body now pressed against yours, his desire palpable. "Good girl, making these confessions to your prince. And when I take you, my lady," he growls in your ear, "I'll show you how much better I can make you feel than any of my whores ever have."

"I want it," you gasp. "Gods help me, I want you to bar the door and consummate our marriage before it's begun."

A feral grin spreads across Daemon's face. "A promise I can keep." He leans in and seizes your mouth in a brutal kiss, his hand sliding up the inside of your thigh as he takes control, leaving no doubt about his intentions. You melt into his touch with a grateful moan. To your horror, however, whatever strange draught he’s given you isn’t losing its potency.

"I have other dreams of you," you gasp, "that shame me. I cannot bear to share them. I want - "

You shake your head furiously, gnashing your teeth.

Daemon's grip tightens on your thigh as your words falter. He nips at your bottom lip before pulling away, his eyes filled with an intensity that borders on menace. "Come now. There is no shame in fantasy,” he says, pressing his body against yours, his voice a rumble that sends a thrum of pleasure to your core. "Tell me the whole of it, little dragon."

In one last final attempt to keep your secrets unspoken, you lean forward to capture Daemon's lips in another kiss. But the prince pulls away, grinning darkly, with each frantic attempt. Already he can see your lips wavering.

"You've dreamt of being at my mercy, haven't you?" Daemon presses on, his hand drifting up your thigh, his fingers teasing the edge of your skirts.

"Often," you confess with a sound of purest longing. "Those dreams are most depraved, my prince. I have pleasured myself at the thought of you examining my body at a brothel house, as if I were a purchase to be enjoyed no longer than an evening. I have thought of you parading me about while I'm naked for the amusement of your drunken comrades on the city watch."

Daemon inhales deeply as you make your confession. "You enjoy the thought of being my property, don't you?" He moves closer to your ear, his hand stroking along your thigh, making you quiver. "Why don’t you tell me how I ought to use my property.”

"I want you to spread my legs and drive me incoherent with lust. To inflame and refuse me with every touch. I want you to ignore my pleas and lay me low in my desire until my body is just another of the Rogue Prince’s many cheap playthings.” You are trembling by the end of this confession, overcome with shame and humiliation. You cannot bring yourself to meet Daemon's eyes. What if this is all a jape? Your heart drops at the thought of Daemon laughing at you and sending you from the room in tears.

Instead, Daemon’s hand slips higher under your skirts until it finds the damp patch of fabric he’s searching for. He grunts with something like approval as he teases you through the fabric, making you hiss and buck against him, your eyes still downcast – until his thumb rubs gently over your clit. Only then do you lift your gaze to meet his. Daemon meets your gaze with a intensity that promises everything you’ve dreamt about, his thumb working a new magic against you through the fabric.

"Your prince will see it done,” he says, as if making a threatening vow.

And then his fingers slip beneath the final clutch of fabric, to your slick folds. He circles your entrance with a deftness borne from experience, his eyes still locked with yours. Your breath intermingles as he whispers against your lips, "Soon, little dragon. Soon you will be the prince’s plaything in more ways than even your whorish mind has conceived of."

You groan in reply before pressing your lips hungrily against his. "I want to taste you, Daemon - "

"And I want to devour you, my lady.” With a crooked twist of a smile, Daemon kneels before you, his eyes never leaving yours.

At the sensation of his breath against your skin, you cry out before you can help yourself. You fear what the servants will say if anyone rushes into the room at the sound, but Daemon only grins, if anything. His lips trace a path from your inner thigh to the apex of your thighs, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The scent of your arousal fills his senses, and he smirks wickedly before lowering his head further. His tongue circles your honeyed entrance before he fully buries his face between your thighs, nosing at your clit. Your back arches in response, your moans growing louder with each stroke of his skillful tongue.

"Daemon," you cry out, writhing. But as you writhe, Daemon stops.

"Be still for your prince,” he commands in High Valyrian, "or you will regret it."

Daemon resumes your torment with renewed vigor, his clever tongue driving you closer and closer to the edge with each expert touch. But just as your body trembles, signaling your impending orgasm, Daemon removes himself from between your legs and stands. With a simple jerk of his chin, he signals that you’re to move to the daybed in the far corner of the small library.

You clutch at the dress falling from your shoulders. Your dignity is in tatters, Gods be good, but still you cannot help yourself from complying with Daemon's silent command by slinking silently to the daybed. You cannot remain entirely quiet as you kneels at its center, however.

"I wonder," you say silkily, "whether my prince would like any more mead.” You gesture to the remains of your goblet on your desk and watch as Daemon considers your request, his expression unreadable. "Go on, my fearsome dragonlord," you say in your most honeyed voice. "Allow me to hear your darkest dreams, as you've heard mine.”

You watch eagerly as Daemon approaches the desk and twirls the cup in his hands. “If you like,” he says only, draining it all at once until nothing is left. He tosses the empty container aside with scarcely a grimace, despite having downed the equivalent of nearly half a bottle of wine. As a result, the effects seem to take hold of him more quickly.

His eyes lock on yours once more as the serum takes hold. He returns to your side with a primal slowness, his voice dark. "I dreamt of having you beneath me the moment I first set eyes on you, my lady.”

His eyes never leave yours as he unbuckles his belt and pushes it to the side, revealing the shape straining against the fabric. He leans in to nip at your breast while his hand slides under your skirts to spread your folds. Your hands grasp at the arm of the daybed as he moves south to nip at the skin beneath your breast, along your ribs, and along the edge of your lower hairline. And then Daemon's fingers are teasing the boundary of you, dipping in and out of your wetness as he nips at your flesh, his breath hot against your skin.

Only when he sees you on the verge of cresting the clouds again does he push inside.

The size of him is a shock. Inch by inch, he fills you in a way you’ve never been filled before. “My lady is even tighter and wetter than I imagined when I first kissed her hand,” Daemon jeers through your bliss.

You can only moan in reply and press your forehead to his. "What do you want of me, Daemon?" you pant, reveling in the knowledge that he's now under the same spell as you.

Daemon thrusts into you, groaning with each motion. "I want you to cry out for me, little dragon," he growls against your ear as his hips pick up speed. "Let the world know that I ride you, and that you will take no other."

You hiss with satisfaction as Daemon slides in up to the hilt. "Daemon," you cry out, loudly enough for someone to hear if they happened to be passing the room from the outside, and then louder still, as Daemon moves to pulls you astride him. He grunts in approval while you find your rhythm, his hands gripping your hips. "Tell me you want me to breed you," he orders, his voice hoarse as his gaze drifts from yours to admire your expanse of bare skin. "Say it.”

You groan as you ride him, meeting Daemon thrust for thrust. "I do want you to breed me, my prince," You gasp in his ear. "I want you to fill me until I’ve taken all you can give. Fill me so I can bear your dragonlord sons and daughters. Fuck…Daemon," You calls out, with urgency, daring him to stifle you now. “*Daemon*!”

Daemon groans as he picks up pace, his thrusts becoming more violent. He grinds his hips against yours, his fingers digging into your hips as his thrusts become more erratic. His cock throbs within you, his release imminent.

"So deep,” you groan, your tongue still loosened from the truth draught. "Do you enjoy stretching me like this, Daemon? Will you enjoy watching me struggle to walk tomorrow?"

Your filthy words have their desired effect. Daemon growls his approval, his body tense as he empties himself of his pleasure. His hips grind as he pumps himself into you, every drop that he has to spare. He pulls out slowly, watching with an appreciative gleam in his eye as the evidence of your coupling drips onto your lovely dark skin.

Before you know it, a new resolve is already glittering in the prince’s eyes. "Taste yourself,” he commands in a snarl, pushing you off of him to face you on his knees. “Taste me.”

You open your mouth all too eagerly to catch the cum dripping from the head of Daemon's cock. You’ve scarcely swallowed before he gives an almighty shudder and forces you, harshly, onto all fours.

His tongue flicks over the rosette of your ass. From between your legs, you watch his mouth twist in another wicked grin as he coats his length in your generous arousal and positions himself between your legs. You can feel the tip of him pressing against your tight entrance, making you arch your back and gasp in pleasure. Has the truth-telling draught unleashed some kind of side effect on his libido?

"Daemon," you moan, your hips undulating in search of more. You press your face deeper into the cushion, shamelessly exposing yourself for his pleasure.

Daemon laughs more darkly than you’ve ever heard him. "Beg me for it," he demands in High Valyrian, his voice low and commanding as he prods at the spot that makes you squirm. "Tell your prince how much you want him to claim your ass, my depraved lady. Tell me how much you need it."

Daemon's words flood you with lust all over again. Already on the brink of your climax from the wicked ministrations of his tongue, you're unable to resist bucking backward again, seeking friction.

"Take me there," you beg, your face red with humiliation. "Please, Daemon."

He grins at your submission, his cock twitching in anticipation. He spits on his fingers for good measure and circles your entrance, preparing your body for this new invasion.

"Louder, my lady. Tell me you need this. Tell me how desperate you really are,” he says, his voice low as he presses in.

At first, you grit your teeth against this new invasion. But the sensation of being stretched this way, along with Daemon’s savage rumble of pleasure, quickly has you whimpering, your body betraying your eagerness. The added sensation as Daemon works his fingers around your sensitive pearl is almost too much to bear without tipping over the edge. But you know what he wants, and you force the word out:

"Take me...I beg you, Daemon. My body is yours. Only yours…” With this, you press your hand over his, driving more pressure against your sensitive pearl and driving your ass out farther. You savor the delicious stretch as he seats himself within your rear entrance. The feeling is not entirely uncomfortable - only intense.

"You're taking me well," Daemon praises, his voice low as he begins to pull out and push back in, setting a slow rhythm. "Let's see how long you can take it all."

He nudges your thighs apart further, his hands roaming to grasp at your chest. But Daemon's praise makes you weak.

"I’ve dreamt of this too," you cry out in admission. "I have spied on you in the pleasure houses while you used your whores as you use me now." Clearly the truth-telling draught is still wreaking havoc over your better judgment.

Daemon's grip on your hip tightens at your admission. Looking back at him, you see his lips spread with deepest satisfaction.

"And how did you feel watching me?" he growls against your ear, the rhythm of his thrusts picking up pace. Clearly he likes this, the thought of you secretly watching and wanting, for he tightens his grip on your hip, driving into you with renewed vigor. "Did you think to join me in those pleasures?"

"I felt envious," you confess, much to your dismay. "I longed to be in their place while you tasted them and chased your pleasure down their pretty throats. I longed to join you only so I could force them aside and make them watch as you fucked me senseless in their stead."

Daemon's eyes flare with delight as you admit your jealousy. "You should have," he growls, his voice low and thick with lust. He slams into you, the force of his thrusts driving you forward onto your forearms. The thought of your sudden arrival in one of his previous escapades has him groaning with pleasure, his pace increasing even faster now.

As you near your own climax, pressing your fingers frantically against your sensitive pearl, you can't resist looking back to meet the dragonlord’s gaze. "Daemon," you groan in appreciation as one of Daemon's hands replaces yours, trapping your sensitive bud between his fingers. “Claim me," you groan in High Valyrian. "Let no other stuffy lord think himself worthy of me. Let all know that I belong to the Rogue Prince of Westeros.”

Daemon grins, his eyes glinting with mischief and lust. His voice is laced with approval as he speaks, watching your face flush. "They will know it soon enough," he replies in kind. "They will know you are mine, taken and tamed.”

He leans forward, his lips brushing against your ear as he reaches the height of his pleasure. His thrusts become more erratic, his hips slamming into yours before he empties himself deep within you, shuddering as release overtakes him. With your hand pressed tightly over his, you shudders in equal pleasure, your mind a wonderful blank as Daemon’s touch sends you over the edge.

Several shuddering moments later, Daemon withdraws from you with care, his chest heaving as he collapses beside you. His hand reaches out to brush the hair from your face as he gazes down at you with a look of satisfaction – and smugness, above all.

"Sleep now, little dragon. Tomorrow we'll continue this lesson of ownership until there is no question of whose bed you belong in." With that, his eyes drift closed, his breathing becoming slow and steady as he falls into a deep sleep.

You merely smile, enjoying the sound of that prospect more than you care to admit. You wait for Daemon to fall asleep before dressing and slipping quietly from the small chamber, knowing all too well how your reputation would be toiled if you were found together like this in the morning.

Someday, you promise yourself. Someday you’ll collapse at his side, your skin beaded once more from your lusty exertions, and it won't matter worth a damn who knows...

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hikarimiyanaga · 1 year ago

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The Queen's Bride (Part 1)

Summary :

Being a rich man's kid isn't as exciting as everyone makes it out to be.

You have no freedom.

Every choice has been made for you ever since you were born.

What you eat. What course you were going to study. What school you're going to.

Even the one you were going to marry.

So to your surprise, your father has finally chosen one thing right for you.

Daenerys Targaryen.

Warnings : Omegaverse. Stark!Reader. Omega!Reader x Alpha!Daenerys Targaryen. Modern!AU.

Look who's finally watching Game of Thrones. Surprise, surprise, I fell in love with Daenerys.

"This is bullshit!" Jon, your cousin, shouts as he paces around you.

Both of you were just given two names.

Two people you never met that you were going to spend the rest of your life with.

"Who the fuck is Ygritte and why do I have to marry her?" Jon shouts in frustration and you shrug.

"I mean, Father could've paired you with one of the Lannisters. Myrcella is an omega-"

"Shut up." Jon glares at you.

"You have to admit it. Ygritte is pretty as fuck."

"Lucky for Robb, huh? He's the heir so he could choose freely."

"She is. But- I don't know her, Y/N." Jon sighs as he sits next to you.

"Lucky asshole." You slap his arm.

"He's my big brother."

"He is. I wish I could be the heir."

"Seriously? You? Jon Stark of Winterfell Corp? Are you hearing me?"

"Shut up." The two of you look at each other then laugh. "Yours is pretty too, by the way. And a Targaryen too."

"Why them? Our mottos are literally parallels."

"Yeah. Winter is Coming."

"Fire and Blood. Like why her?" You groan at the ceiling.

"Just be glad that she's pretty. Some don't get that lucky."

"Are you talking about-" Jon nods and you sigh.

"I just wish we had freedom."

"Me too. Y/N. Me too."

You get your bag and look at the empty apartment around you.

"I need Sansa to room with me. Like gods, this place is fucking big enough for ten people at least." You mumble to yourself as you leave the apartment.

Just like everything else in your life. The apartment was provided by your Father, Ned Stark. You could count the number of times on your fingers that you've actually talked to him rather than just receive orders or scolding from him.

Your phone rings just as you get inside the Westeros University. You answer it as you see your little sister's name.

"Y/N! How are you?" You smile at Arya's voice.

"I'm good, Arry. Where are you?" How is she calling you right now?

"I'm at home. There was a lice problem at school today so we went home! Are you free??" You grin at her exciting tone.

"In two hours, I will be. Why?"

"Can we go play? Mom said she'll let me go to the mall if I'm with you!"

"Sure, can you wait there and behave?"

"Yep! See you later!"

"See you." You say softly and smile as you go to your first and last class of the day. You were so glad that you chose your own schedule. You sit down at your usual seat and hum as you take out your laptop. Looks like professor Varys is late today.

Westeros University is the biggest University in all of Westeros. It has lessons even in magic.

"Did you hear, Y/N?" You look up as Oberyn sits beside you. You were somewhat friends. He can charm anyone in a room while you can outread anyone in a room. Truth be told, even you didn't know why he talked to you.

"Hear what?"

"Not interested in rumors as usual?" He asks and you shake your head.

"Even if Varys tells us otherwise, I still don't like rumors and hearsays." Oberyn nods and grins in satisfaction.

"Which is why you make the perfect audience." You sigh. "Listen to this. Someone is doing it."

"Doing what?"

"Seeing if the dragons will choose them."

"Seriously? That thing hasn't been done in like 200 years."

"Right? But someone is brave enough to do it now. You know what it means, right?"

"Yeah. They get to sit on the Iron Throne regardless of their last name."

"And?" You raise an eyebrow at him in confusion.

"And what?"

"Complete freedom!" You tilt your head at him. "No more choices by parents! No arranged marriages!"

"Damn. Sounds like a dream come true."

"For you guys. I still don't get why you guys won't love freely."

"Because last names have a value of their own. Here at Westeros at least. Oh. And Westeros Conglomerate too." Oberyn shakes his head.

"What you guys should value is talent, not blood."

"Meritocracy rather than blood right. Reasonable." Oberyn looks at you. "I don't make the choices though."

"Marry the king then."

"I'd rather die, Oberyn. I'd rather eat my own shit."

"Still hate men?"

"Only romantically." Oberyn chuckles just as Varys comes through the door.

"You're missing out on like half of the world then." You give him a smile.

"I don't think I am."

You hum as you park your car in front of the Stark Mansion. You were just getting your bag when you feel a pair of arms circle around your legs. You look down and see Arya smiling at you.

"Hey, Arya!" You scoop her up and she squeals. Arya is only 9 years younger but you love doing this to her. "Where's Ma and Father?"

"Dad is still at work! Ma is inside!" You put her down and nod.

"Come on, then. I'll tell Ma that I'll take you to the mall." Arya grins at you and she begins to tell you about her classmates and school.

"And then this one guy-"

"Y/N! You're home!" Catelyn Stark rushes over and hugs you. You hug her just as tightly.

"Hey, Ma. Arya wanted to play with me and it's been months since I've been home so I figured I should take her."

"I'm sure she understands that you're busy with university and all."

"I know, Ma! But school is out and she said she was free." Arya pouts from beside you and you smile.

"I am free, no worries." You ruffle Arya's hair and she smiles at you.

"Be sure to be back for Dinner then."

"We'll buy some before we get home. Are Robb and Father-"

"Busy." You nod in understanding then take Arya's hand.

"You ready for an afternoon with me? Your best sister?"

"YEAH! We'll destroy those high scores in the arcade!" You grin and agree.

You come home with a passed out Arya, a bag full of plushies, and a bag with food.

"You actually made her sleep? You are a godsend." You laugh at your mom and grin.

"Once you get Arya's quirks and use them against her, she can make herself run out of energy."

"Please don't tell-"

"Ma, she wants to. She can afford to learn it still."

"But her marri-"

"She's still 9, ma. She doesn't need to think about that yet."

"Right. Are you staying for dinner at least?"

"Sure. Is Sansa-" Before you finish your sentence, someone has already hugged you.

"Y/N! Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" You turn around and find your other little sister, Sansa Stark.

"Well, I had to exhaust this one so." Sansa looks at Arya who was cuddling your neck still.

"Whoa. Arya never sleeps this early."

"Like I said. Exhausted. Are Brandon and Rickon here?"

"Yep! They should be getting back from Winterfell by now."

"What did they do there??"

"Father wanted to show them something. Are you staying tonight?"

"If you're willing to share your bed."

"ALWAYS!" You shush her and smile.

"I'll just be putting this one in her bed then I'll come down. Here." You give the bag full of food to Catelyn and smile. "Some of my favorites."

"I'll plate them up." You nod and begin your walk with Arya still sleeping while cuddling your neck.

"You're becoming heavier, Arya. I wonder if I should do some training just so I can carry you around."

"Y/N! You're back!" Brandon says then hugs you.

"Hey, little brother." You kiss his head and smile as he beams at you.

"SIS!" Rickon shouts then tackles you to no avail.

"Heya, baby bro." You pick him up and grin. "Did you grow??"

"I did! I'm defeating Arya soon!" You grin at him.

"Don't let her hear you!" You ruffle his hair then turn to Sansa. "Did you do your homework yet?"

"No? Will you help me later?" She gives you her puppy dog eyes and you groan at her. You admit that you're too weak to your siblings.

"Fine. But no talking about boys. I swear to God if I hear one more thing about-"

"But Ser Loras is just so dreamy." You look at her with a deadpan expression.

"Try me and I will sleep besides Arya." Sansa pouts.

"Fine. No boy talk." She grumbles. "Stingy."

"I'm gay. I'd rather marry another omega as long as she's a woman." Catelyn smiles as she sees you getting along with your siblings.

"Do not plant ideas in their head."

"Ma, Sansa is as straight as a ruler. These two don't even know what their second genders are." Catelyn rolls her eyes at you. "That reminds me, when's your test?" You look at Sansa as you place Rickon at his seat.

"This Monday! I'm so excited to confirm that I'm an Omega!"

"And if you're a beta?" You ask and Catelyn slaps your arm. "What? There's nothing wrong about being a beta! I wanted to be one before."

"You did?" Sansa asks and you nod. "Why?"

"More options." Catelyn hits your head and you laugh.

"Why? Does being an omega lessen your options?"

"Technically, I can't have another omega as my soulmate. Not that it matters."

"Oh yeah, dad said he sent you someone." You roll your eyes at that.

"He sent a file of someone. He wouldn't just let some stranger in my apartment."

"Who is it?? Can we know??" You groan at the excitement in Sansa's voice. There's nothing more that interests her than love talk.

"She's a Targaryen."

"The Dragon Family!" Rickon shouts and you ruffle his hair.

"Yup! Bran, do you know their motto?" Brandon hums as he gets some food.

"Yeah. Fire and Blood, right?"

"Yup! You all will get some ice cream. I brought some earlier." Catelyn glares at you. "What?"

"Cavities."

"I only visit once in a while, Ma. Just this once." Catelyn pinches your cheek. "Ow! Give! Give!"

"Just this once and don't ever do this again without saying anything to me."

"Yes, Ma! I got it! Ow!" Catelyn finally lets you go and you hold your cheek. You pout at her. "You didn't have to pinch that hard."

"You know how I feel about sweets." You sigh.

"I know. Sorry."

"Good thing the ice cream didn't give Rickon sugar rush."

"Yeah. It was a relief that Ma didn't pinch me."

"Those two boys really love you and adore you."

"They do." You look at Sansa and pat her hair. "I hope you become a beta, baby girl." Sansa scoffs at you.

"Wha- why!?" You smile sadly at her.

"So then you'll have more freedom." Sansa holds your hand. "Sadly. As an Omega, everything is controlled for you here in Westeros. Specially if you have a last name of a noble."

"Y/N." You squeeze her hand and grin.

"Hopefully, you and Arya get to decide your own futures. And your own partners." Sansa gets teary eyed at that. You let go of her hand then pat her hair again. "Time to get ready for bed. I'll just check on Arya for a second, okay?" Sansa nods at you and you close her door before covering your mouth with your hand.

Freedom. What a grand word. For you, it was thrown out the window when you got your test results.

Everyone says that Omegas have equal standings with Alphas. That the world is getting better.

"What a load of fucking bullshit." You mumble to yourself as you make your way to Arya's room.

You open the door and see that Arya is still fast asleep. You get to her bed and kiss her head.

"I hope you'll have more freedom than me, little one." You tuck her in and leave.

PS.

Jon is a Stark here and Catelyn knows he's Lyanna's son but no one knows who his father is. Let's just pretend for a second that he's not a Targaryen.

I actually was going to go the usual route for this aka Alpha Reader but decided against it. Omega Reader just works better for the angst inside my head.

#daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #omegaverse #omegaverse fanfic #omegaverse fic

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multi-fandom-fanfiction · 2 years ago

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Requests I have (if you don't see yours please let me know)

Jamie and Cersei Lannister X Daughter!Reader (Platonic)

(Cersei wants to marry off there daughter but she is Jamie”s pride and joy and wont let that happen)

FP Jones X Reader (Smut) (FP Jones x reader!Andrew!rough)

Joffery Baratheon X Sister!Reader (Platonic!!!) he’s sadistic like joffery? that’s the reason they’re really close and trust each other more than anything

Joffery Baratheon X Sister!Reader (Smut) (joffrey imagine where him and his sister (2 years older) have always had sexual tension but they never saw it that way and one night while she’s changing joffrey bursts through the door angry about something but stops when he sees her. both of them at this point are horny for each other and he comes up to her kissing her while he grabs her breast and shes kind of in shock still but melts into it and yeah they have sex on the bed and take turns topping each other)

Ramsay Bolton X Sister!Reader (Smut) (Ramsay (got) has a younger sister and they often have intercourse, but this one night Ramsay brings Reek, his father and mother into readers room and ties them up. He tells them to watch. So Ramsay and her have really rough sex and tells them to look at her and makes her look at them to make sure they knows how good Ramsay makes her feel. When they’re done they kill them)

Betty Cooper X Fem!Reader (damn! i would have never imagined myself being with betty but when i was reading your post, u couldn’t stop myself from smiling! soft girlfriends haha. i love it! 💖💖💖 could you do something like this but as best friends with cheryl/toni or even both if it’s not too hard for you? i wanna see where it would go!)

Daenerys Targaryen X mercenary!male reader (The reader is a mercenary whom Cersei hires to kidnap Daenerys shortly after she arrives at Dragonstone. But instead of bringing Dany to Cersei, the mercenary decides to keep her for himself and tame her into becoming his willing lover)

Cersei Lannister X Fem!Reader (The reader faints in Cersei"s arm)

Petyr Baelish X Baratheon Fem!Reader (Semi Requested!) (Now that all of her brothers are gone Robert"s legitimate daughter has risen to be seated on the throne. Her council is demanding a husband what will the new queen do!)

Robb Stark X Baratheon Fem!Reader (Hey I love your work! Could I request some angsty robb stark x reader? Maybe reader is Cersei and robert’s true child and was married off to robb. Cersei is very distressed about your wellbeing when the war breaks out and when she learns of the plans of the red wedding, she begs her father to spare you. He does but at a price for your continued show of hatred of the Baratheons and lannisters. Letting you have to watch as robb dies and returning you home without realizing you’re pregnant.)

A wolverine request but I can’t find the info (so if you requested a wolverine request please resend it)

1.Twisted Desires

Dean, Sam, and Y/N Winchester were trapped together from the moment John found yellow eyes had killed the mother of his child was killed by yellow eyes in 1988 exactly five years after his wife and mother of his eldest two children were murdered by the same demon. The three lived by there father’s code doesn’t go somewhere twice and you don’t stay long. They never got to make friends so they were all each other had so maybe it was a flower in the attic complex. The three siblings loved each other far more than anyone else ever but maybe Sam and Dean’s love wasn’t a way older brothers were supposed to love their little sisters and Y/N’s love wasn’t a way a little sister should love her brothers. But they controlled themselves the best they could. Sam went away to college and Y/N and Dean continued until Sammy got home. The three of them wouldn’t admit it but they needed each other but one night after all three Winchesters were frustrated over a particularly hard case and tightened sexual tension. Sam threatens to leave and Dean tells him to go. What happens when Y/N breaks down and begs him to stay? Will she confess how she feels or will there twisted desires remain hidden?

1.Going against the gods

Ivar the Boneless always felt like everyone tortured him everyone but his perfect goddess like Y/H/C (Your Hair Color) hair and Y/E/C (Your eye color) little sister. She was made for him she loved all her brother’s but Ivar knew he was her favorite. Whatever he wanted she gave him whatever he wanted her to do she did. When he killed Sigurd she didn’t call him a monster and never talk to him again. She began to cry and beg the gods to let him into Valhalla but not before Ragnar’s only living daughter took his hands softly and told him he needs to work on his temper but she still loved him. When Ubbe and Hvitserk boarded the boat she refused yelling, “He needs us I will not leave our brother and I will not choose between the three of you.” Though his sister began to distance herself after he married Freydis and realized he was a god. She began to pull away from Ivar and with ever pull there was a slide closer to there older brother Hvitserk. Ivar didn’t like it and as king he had to stop it even if that meant going against the gods.

1.Love At First Sight

Okayyy so It Would be the little sister of Scott (cyclops) and Alex(Havok) wich would fall un Love With logan the first Time she sees him☺️(3

1.I never stopped loving you

Billy Hargrove and Y/N Harrington were young and in love many years ago in high school. They broke up because Billy didn’t know his worth. Billy stayed in Hawkins went to a trading school and opened a garage. He even started steadily with a new girl after Y/N never came home at Christmas and then summer. She went to a big college a few states away her way of escaping her family even though Billy always said she was running from him and his messy life. A few weeks after moving to college she finds out the biggest shock of her life. She was carrying Billy Hargrove’s baby. Only one person knew, her twin brother Steve Harrington. Now four years later Billy is engaged and Y/N is finally coming home. What will happen with the two back in town together?

2.Love Again

After Diana left him he though for sure he would never love again. Then the summer after the Hargrove's moved to town here comes Neil’s eldest daughter. 22-year-old Y/N moves to Hawkins Indiana after college. She pulled up one day to pick Max up from El’s. The moment Jim swung the door open his breath left his chest. What happens when he hires her as Eleven’s tutor and Jim finds himself falling in love with the young woman. Will Y/N fill the same way? Is this Jim Hopper’s chance to love again or will he get his heart broken again?

MY girl

Nikki and her new girlfriend make it official

1.Two Broken Souls

Y/N is heavier than her friends and suffers from it. They are constantly putting her down. Her parents are constantly fighting at home. Jughead Jones is the loner boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Both are broken and hurting. Will They find Solace in each other or will they both suffer in silence.

2. Death … and new chances

Y/N Andrews's best friend dies and she is opened to a new possibility for her son

1. Together:

Alex Standall Smut (4)

2. Our kids …..

Y/N Jensen is ready to co-parent with her one night stand

3. octavia blake x sister reader smut

4. Rebekah mikaelson x sister reader smut

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livingdreams97 · 2 years ago

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Daenerys Targaryen -- "The rightful heir." (part 5)

Daenerys Targaryen x Male reader/oc

Summary: Tiryon Lannister asks his queen for a favor: to help his missing nephew in a questionable way and just as his sister; Cercei proclaims the iron throne. The favor is to save his nephew and create a union between the heir of the House Baratheon and the mother of dragons.

Words: 3.839

Masterlist

Daenerys POV

I stand on top of the wall, looking down at the lush, snowy forest on the wild side of the wall. I watch the beginning of the forest with hope, hope that a miracle will happen and Y/n will appear from the trees unharmed.

But with each passing minute, that hope disappears more and more in the icy breeze from the wall. And while the hope inside me diminishes, the guilt increases replacing that feeling full of positive possibilities.

I knew I shouldn't have let him come with me. I knew I shouldn't have been impressed and allowed him to fly over Viserion. There is only one person who deserves to be blamed and that is me.

The only thing left for me to do is thank Y/n for his sacrifice in putting himself at risk and saving one of my children. Because I don't know what would have happened if Viserion had suffered the same fate as Y/n.

Because not only would I have to mourn the possible loss of the one who was going to be my husband and the man with whom I was falling in love with. The most sensitive, affectionate, fun and bold man I have had the pleasure of meeting in recent weeks. But also the death of one of my children, the most sensitive and trusting of the three of them.

I watch my son fly over the area, squawking and crying for the loss of Y/n. I let out a sigh full of pain and sadness, knowing that if I were a dragon; I would be doing the same.

Jorah: We have to go, majesty.- I listen as my old friend and protector tells me.

Daenerys: A little more.- I ask looking at the beginning of the forest with the little hope that I have left.

I am not the most believing person, especially after everything I have lived and everything I have seen. But praying won't hurt me and hope is the last thing to lose.

So I pray to any god or entity that listens to me, to make Y/n come back to me and be healthy. That's all I ask.

I wait a few more minutes, seeing no change, and decide that I can no longer wait for a miracle. All hope within me disappears and I feel my eyes burn with reality.

The reality that Y/n is dead and I will never see him again.

I turn around, meeting Ser Jorah's sympathetic, sad gaze. I walk straight ahead, brushing past him and stopping when he doesn't follow me. I turn my head to look at him, when I hear a trumpet and Viserion's squawks.

I walk quickly back to the lookout, immediately seeing a horse walking towards the entrance of the wall and carrying someone.

My heart begins to beat wildly inside my chest, at the possibility and the hope that Y/n is on that horse.

I turn around again, walking quickly and almost running to get down from the top of the wall. Wanting to get to the ground as soon as possible and verify the person's identity.

As soon as I get to the courtyard of the black castle, I see how two people are lowered off the horse and a tear slides down my cheek without being able to avoid it. I feel tears of relief slide down my cheeks, when I recognize the clothes of both people and distinguish them as Jon and Y/n.

I run to the unconscious body of Y/n, who is being carried by some men and placed on a stretcher.

Davos: Hurry up, take them to the ship's cabins quickly.- He orders moving quickly along with the rest of the people.

I run after them, climbing onto the ship following the stretchers and feeling Jorah on my back at all times. They put Jon Snow into his cabin first, but I keep walking and follow Y/n's stretcher.

Once he is placed on the bed in his cabin, Jorah enters the room and helps the other two men undress him, while I watch from the doorway.

My worried gaze travels over every part of his body and every bit of skin that is exposed as they remove his hard and icy garments. I look carefully, trying to find signs of bruises or visible injuries. From my site, I can't see or appreciate anything.

But it's not until he's flipped over and his back is exposed that I see the real damage to his body.

His entire back is covered with a large bruise, of different shades and colors. Although I don't think it's the worst, but the wound that runs through his arm from the elbow to his shoulder.

A worrying blue wound, similar to when a part of the body begins to freeze and lose all blood supply. And the pale blue veins surrounding the wound are also worrisome.

Jorah: Your Majesty better come out for this.- He spots me, as they turn him around again and prepare to take off his pants.

Daenerys: I'll be in my cabin.- I nod in agreement. -Let me know when you have cleaned and cured him.- I order and leave the cabin closing the door behind my back.

I walk towards my cabin, keeping an impassive and serious face before the eyes. But as soon as my back hits the inside of my closed cabin door, I collapse to the floor, letting out the tears I've been holding back.

I cry thanking the gods for listening to me and bringing Y/n back. For giving me another chance with him and being able to do things right this second time. I cry with relief and happiness that Y/n has come back to me alive.

Because even if he is injured, wounds heal and only scars will remain in their place.

POV You

Before I even open my eyes, I can feel everything around me; including my body shake. I try to open my eyes, feeling my eyelids heavy and as if they are glued to not open.

As I try to open my eyes, I realize that I am face down and that my head is resting on something soft.

I open my eyes just a few inches, noticing the wooden wall in front of me, the dim lighting of the candles in the place and the pillow under my head.

I feel the warmth and softness that something on my back causes, while in my right arm I feel the opposite. I feel an intense cold in the area, the same cold I felt when the spear of the white walkers grazed my arm.

I am also aware of the pain in my arm, more specifically in the area between my elbow and shoulder.

I try to sit up, immediately regretting it as I feel a sharp pain in my back and let out a grunt of pain in response.

Daenerys: Hey don't move.- I hear the whisper of her voice near me in the room. -Your back is very bruised.- She whispers again and I feel how the warmth of her hand is placed on my forehead. -You're burning.- She comments with a hint of concern in her voice.

Y/n: What happened? - I ask confused, since my last memory is falling from Viserion and then an icy cold wrapping my body.

Daenerys: You fell from Viserion and I don't know how you ended up on a horse with Jon Snow heading for the wall.- I listen to how she answers me and I manage to open my eyes, finding myself with the silver-haired woman sitting next to me on the bed.

Y/n: And where are we? - I ask still confused with the whole situation.

Daenerys: On my ship.- She answers me with a slight smile and slightly reddened eyes. -We are on our way to King´s Landing, for the meeting with your mother about the truce and to ask for her help with the walkers.- She explains me better and I can only let out a sigh.

Y/n: Can you help me sit down.- I ask in a low voice, feeling uncomfortable with the position and with a slight discomfort in my neck.

Daenerys: Sure.- Nods in response. -But slowly, yes?- She tells me with a serious tone and I nod in response.

I feel her place her hands gently under my armpits, trying her best to help me roll over and sit up. With some difficulty and some pain on my part, I manage to sit up on the bed.

In this position, I can see my surroundings much better and I can better appreciate Erys's condition.

Y/n: Are you okay? - I ask a little worried, seeing the dry marks of tears on her cheeks and understanding the reason for her red eyes, and a little watery.

Daenerys: It's me who should ask you that question.- She comments avoiding the question. -It is you who has fallen from the back of a dragon from a height of more than twenty meters and been submerged in icy water for who knows how long. – She comments with worry.

Y/n: I know.- I assure her with a slight nod of the head. -But clearly something has affected you and I'm worried about your condition.- I assure her, stretching my hand towards hers and wrapping my cold hand with her warm one.

Daenerys: It's nothing.- She denies, downplaying it and fixing her gaze on the union of our hands.

Y/n: Of course it's something.- I say immediately. -It is clear that you have cried and nobody cries for nothing.- I defend my question and concern for her condition. -So I repeat again. Are you okay? - I ask again, leaving a small squeeze on her hand and feeling one in response.

Daenerys: Now yes.- She answers me in a whisper. -Only that I have been so afraid for you, you don't know how bad I felt when I saw that you weren't on Viserion's back, or how hurt and guilty I felt when I thought I had lost you.- She admits looking at me in the eyes and allowing me to see the pain behind her own.

Y/n: But now I'm here.- I assure her giving her a small smile.

Daenerys: But you weren't until recently.- She denies trying to hold back her tears. -I thought you were dead, that I had lost you and that my last chance to be happy had disappeared.- She whispers looking away, letting out the first tear and causing a painful shift inside me.

Y/n: Erys.- I whisper the affectionate name that I only use when we are alone. -Hey look at me.- I whisper pulling her hand a little, so that she feels closer and I can wipe the tears from her face with my hand. -I'm here now and I'm with you.- I assure her again.

Daenerys: I know, but I feel like it's a dream and that when I wake up you'll still be missing in the cold water.- she whispers looking at me with eyes full of pain and sadness.

Y/n: It's not a dream.- I say raising my right hand as best I can, feeling some pain when moving it and placing one of her silky silver hair behind her ear.

Daenerys: And how can I be sure of that? - She asks me with such vulnerability in her voice, that it's almost like a knife stabbing into the heart.

Y/n: How can I show you that it's not a dream?- I answer with another question, wanting to reassure her and free her from the pain she shows.

Daenerys: Kiss me.- she whispers looking at me with eyes full of supplication.

I widen my eyes surprised, since it is a request that I did not expect and for which I was not prepared. But I'm not going to deny that in the last few weeks something inside of me has been born, a pure feeling for the woman in front of my eyes that over time has evolved and become bigger and bigger.

When I agreed to marry her, I was doing it only for the greater good and because I believed it was the right thing to do. But over time, I became something more selfish and sentimental.

I wanted to marry her because I was beginning to love her and I wanted to be able to call her my wife. I wanted people to know that I was her husband and she was my wife, that we are together and that no one can come between us.

But i believed that feeling was not reciprocal. In my head I was the only one with feelings of the two and I thought that she did it only for the throne.

Although with her request to kiss her right now, I see her approaches, comments, acts and behavior around me with different eyes.

I realize how blind I've been these last few weeks and what an idiot I've been about her intentions towards me.

Daenerys: I'm sorry, it was stupid.- She apologizes immediately, separating her face from my hands and putting more distance between the two.

That is when I realize that I have been thinking for a long time and that I have sent her the wrong signal.

Y/n: No, Erys.- I deny immediately, leaning forward abruptly to prevent her from leaving and hurting my back and arm. –Ouch.- i growl closing my eyes tightly.

Daenerys: Don't make any sudden movements.- She orders me quickly with concern, putting her hands on my bare shoulders and pushing me to sit up straight again.

Y/n: Well, don't run away.- I ask looking at her eyes and trying to connect them with mine.

Daenerys: I'm not running away.- She denies looking anywhere but my face.

Y/n: Then why aren't you even able to look me in the eyes.- I reproach placing both hands on her and grabbing them so that she doesn't move away.

Daenerys: Because I think I've bothered you enough and I don't want to bother you anymore.- She excuses herself and I can't help but smile at her misunderstanding.

Y/n: Look at me.- I ask her without removing the smile from my face and looking at her face carefully.

Daenerys: Why are you smiling? - she asks abruptly when she sees me, frowning and looking at me with a slight fire on her face.

Y/n: Because you don't bother me, you never would and you never will.- I assure her removing the smile and putting on a more serious face. -I haven't answered you, not because I don't want to kiss you or feel the same as you; but because your request has surprised me.- I clarify seeing how the fire in her eyes disappears and is replaced by a different brightness.

Daenerys: Do you feel the same? - asks between confused and excited.

Y/n: If feeling the same as you means that I love you and that I want to marry you to spend the rest of my life by your side, then yes; I feel the same.- I assure her with a smile and receiving a huge smile from her.

Daenerys: Do you love me? - she asks, having teary eyes again, but this time with happiness and placing her hands on my cheeks, causing my hands to fall to my sides.

Y/n: A lot.- I nod in response. -And you, do you love me?- I ask a little insecure.

Daenerys: As I have never come to love anyone.- admits immediately and with all the honesty in the world.

Y/n: So do you want me to kiss you or...?- I leave the question in the air, with a playful and amused tone.

Daenerys: I'm going to let you pass that because you're hurt.- she tells me seriously. -But yes, I still want you to kiss me.- She whispers, looking straight into my eyes.

I place my left hand on her cheek, gently caressing her and feeling the warmth of her skin against my palm.

I slide my hand to the back of her neck and gently pull her towards me. I feel the heat of her repair crash into my face, feeling the anticipation and desire of her body with the rapidity of her breathing.

I stop torturing her, finishing bringing her closer to me and bringing our lips together in a slow kiss. With some effort, I move my right arm and place my hand on her waist to bring her body closer to mine.

Her hands go from my cheeks to the back of my neck, where she leaves small caresses and pampering on the spot.

We separated for a few seconds, staring into each other's eyes and rejoining our lips in a somewhat more needy kiss.

Daenerys ends up sitting on her side in my lap, running her hands through my medium length hair and pressing her chest completely against mine.

My left hand trails down her back, wrapping around her hip and leaving a grip in place as she bites my bottom lip.

From one moment to another, I feel a sharp stab in my right arm and I break away from the kiss because of the pain.

Daenerys: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. - She apologizes with heavy breathing, since in an oversight her hand ended up on my bad arm and she left a grip on the place without realizing it.

Y/n: It's okay- I shake my head with my eyes closed and holding the affected area with my left hand.

Daenerys: I'm really sorry, I've gotten carried away and I've completely forgotten.- She apologizes again with obvious guilt in her voice.

Y/n: Erys is fine.- I try to assure her, opening hmy eyes and seeing her face contracted by worry and guilt.

Daenerys: The best thing would be to let you rest.- She assures me trying to get up from my lap, but I react quickly and gently hold her forearm with my good hand.

Y/n: Don't go.- I beg her not to go and less so now that I know she feels the same as me.

Daenerys: But you must rest.- She defends herself by sitting on my lap again. -We will arrive at Dragon Pit in a week and a half if everything goes well, so you have to be rested and strong for the meeting.- She tells me stroking my hair.

Y/n: Then rest with me.- I ask, looking straight into her eyes.

Daenerys: I don't want to hurt you again by accident.- she denies insecurely.

Y/n: You won't.- I deny with a smile. -And if you do, I'm sure it's because I deserve it in some way.- I say with a certain humor, trying to convince and reassure her.

Daenerys: Okay.- Nods after a few seconds. -But I have to go to my cabin first to get some of my things, you have to eat something and they have to heal your arm.- She tells me, leaving a quick kiss on my lips and getting up from my lap. -Besides that you have to put on clothes if you want me to sleep with you.- She comments with amusement.

Y/n: Clothes? - I ask confused, looking at my body and that's when I realize I'm not wearing anything.

I open my eyes in surprise, lifting the bison blanket from my lap and seeing that she's right, since I'm completely naked. I quickly cover myself up, feeling the blush creep up my neck to my cheeks and avoiding her gaze at all costs.

Daenerys: I think that talking while you're naked is already something usual. - she comments amused.

Y/n: Anyway.- I play it down a bit embarrassed.

Daenerys: I'll be back shortly.- She tells me walking towards the door and a doubt arises in my head.

Y/n: Wait.- I call seeing how he stops and turns to look at me. -How is Viserion? - I ask remembering the dragon.

Daenerys: He's perfectly.- She answers me with a wide smile. -Waiting for you to leave the cabin to see you and receive some kind of affection from you.- She tells me with a sweet smile.

Y/n: That's good.- I nod letting any kind of possible concern disappear from my body.

Daenerys: Yes it is.- She agrees with me, before giving me one last affectionate smile and walking out the door of my cabin.

I stay alone in the room, replaying the latest events of my life and feeling like the luckiest man in the world.

Because not only have I survived an unimaginable fall, but I have also survived drowning in freezing waters, hypothermia and one of the most wonderful women in the world has admitted to returning my feelings.

I smile with a little melancholy, when a light scent of almost imperceptible lilies is smelled next to me and I close my eyes enjoying the distinctive smell of Margaery.

Y/n: Thank you for putting her in my path.- I whisper in gratitude, knowing that Margaery put Daenerys in my path and that it is her way of taking care of me from heaven.

Within a few seconds, I feel a very subtle warmth on my forehead, and then the smell of lilies completely disappears.

Margaery Tyrell was my first love and I will always remember her with one of my best smiles. But Daenerys Targaryen is the love of my life and the woman I will be able to spend the rest of my life with.

Because after defeating the white walkers, we got married on the cliff of Dragonstone and with the people we both cherish the most as the only witnesses to our marriage. In addition to my wife's children, of course.

To fight and defeat my mother, ensuring that the casualties are not other people than some people from my mother's army and thus win the throne for my wife.

The woman who proclaims herself as the first Targaryen queen, with whom by some miracle of the gods I share two daughters and a son, in addition of the return of the dragons with our heirs.

Daenerys: What are you thinking about, love?- She asks me, pulling me out of my thoughts, when I feel her hug me around the waist from behind and I stop looking at the city where I grew up and where I live again since the day she sat on the iron throne.

Y/n: How lucky I am with my queen.- I answer turning around and grabbing her slightly wrinkled face in my hands.

Daenerys: Not as much as I am with my king.- She answers with a big smile, standing on her tiptoes and bringing our lips together in a meaningful kiss.

But even after little more than fifteen years of marriage, I feel that each kiss and each caress are the first. And I don't want that feeling to ever change.

THE END

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