#daeron targaryen x you

[arcielee]

Aōhon iksan

Summary: Daeron has come back from Oldtown to play his role in King’s Landing and marry one of the Four Storms.   Paring: Daeron Targaryen x Female!Reader (third person)  Word Count: 1183 Warnings: AFAB, sexual innuendo mentioned, kissing.  Author’s Note: This is dedicated to the lovely @harrycollettapologist who submitted this request and inspired this drabble ♥ Thank you to my amazing beta readers @aspen-carter​ and @killergirlfuria​  Also! Aōhon iksan is I am yours in Valyrian.  Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @sirenofavalon @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll

Daeron Targaryen was the third son of King Viserys and the youngest of his siblings; yet despite how his grandsire instilled the thought that his sole purpose would be to create alliances, he seemed more of an afterthought, with the way he was sent away to Oldtown. There he remained isolated, just a squire in Lord Ormund’s shadow until word arrived that his father was dead and it was his brother who now sat on the Iron Throne. 

This ignited the dragon’s blood that burned in his veins as he returned at once aback Tessarion. He landed at the peak of Rhaenys’ Hill, the dragonkeepers rushing to assist the blue scaled dragon, alerting his grandsire of his arrival. Daeron was greeted at the barbican of the Red Keep, his mother wrapped her arms around his shoulders while his grandsire feigned the excitement of the news that his brother had just returned from Storm’s End after securing a betrothal for him to one of the Four Storms. 

He prepared himself for the namesake, but instead found himself enamored with the arrival of Lady Baratheon. 

She was beautiful, in the least, with a presence that soothed whatever room she entered, with grace to her every movement and a voice that was the soft trill of musical chimes. Lady Baratheon was the physical embodiment of a princess-to-be, but in the moments they were allowed alone, the few before the wedding, she showed him her tactful wit and sound mind, their conversation at ease between them. 

The whispers of the Red Keep fluttered about the rushed engagement, how the poor Lady Baratheon could not be afforded even the second son, but that she had to wed the third. Though he flushed with the rumors, oddly enough, she appeared to be just as intrigued with Daeron as he was with her. With the allotted time allowed together, her questions seemed genuine and she was rapt to his attention with his reply; as they were escorted back to their respective rooms, he felt himself both fortunate and flustered by her. 

A week after her arrival, it was decided to have an intimate ceremony in the Royal Sept, with only a family meal afterwards to allow them all to become better acquainted. Daeron kept his large hands folded in front to keep from fidgeting, a shyness that accompanied the lady when she came up to his side, though the soft touch of her hands to his own settled him. The Septon was monotonous and they echoed the vows, his low timbre with her melodious lilt.  

They were escorted to the small hall that glowed golden with the candle light, decorated tastefully and the table laden with a feast while the minstrels played low, but jovial, melodies while they ate.

It was almost unnerving to be back within this very room, his last memory almost a decade prior where he saw his father sitting center and his mother perched at his side. Now, his mother sat at one end while his brother, King Aegon, who proudly wore the Conqueror’s Crown since it had been placed on top of his head, was seated center with his sister-wife at his side. They were picturesque, he was regal and Helaena now seemed to exude a queenly aura that complemented her serenity. 

Aemond sat at the end, his severity etched into the sharp contours of his face and his jeweled eye gleamed in his scarred socket–Daeron only learning the day he returned that his eye had been taken. He glowered with the authority from the title bestowed by the king, Protector of the Realm, which seemed to be a cover-up from the debt of his eye repaid in blood. 

Daeron was seated by his new lady wife, who spoke with her musical diction that engaged the attention of his family, and he sat silent at her side, the always-forgotten Targaryen prince. 

In so many ways, his family had changed and grown into themselves, but some habits remained, including Aegon’s love of Dornish wine. Daeron watched his red stained lips utter a crude comment about a crude custom abolished two kings prior–his right to the first night.

There was the thought of how Targaryens were closer to gods than men and Daeron now felt the thrum of ichor curl with the fire in his veins. 

But Aemond acted first, grabbing Aegon by the scruff of his regal fabric and dragging him from the table. He saw the tears that pearled in his mother’s eyes, her regret threatening to spill, and how his sweet sister excused herself to disappear in the shadows of the Red Keep. 

Daeron stood, offering his arm to his lady wife.

It was a white fury that clouded his vision, the combination of his embarrassment, the rumors that trickled within the castle walls and the blatant disrespect shown at the dinner table. He wished to speak to her, to apologize, to take action, but instead his tongue remained swollen in his mouth, choking him. 

His automatic steps halted when the white knight broke his trance, “My prince, this way.”

Oh. The realization they were being escorted to the marital room prepared and he now found himself truly alone with his wife, the lovely Lady Baratheon. 

It was the same warm, golden hue from the candles light and that poured from the ornate hearth lit and waiting for their arrival. They both remained standing and then she moved towards the small tablet, pouring a fresh goblet and bringing it to Daeron, which he accepted numbly. 

He took a sip to wet his throat. “My lady, I want to apologize,” he began, setting down the goblet and turning to face her.

“What for?”

His tongue wet his lips as he looked to her, watching her slow, serene movements as she sat down the picture and moved towards him, one step in front of the other, her brow both knitted and elegant above her scrutinous stare. “You did nothing wrong, my prince,” she continued.

He felt his cheeks warm within her proximity. “Daeron,” he placed his hand to his chest, “I wish you to call me Daeron.”

He felt his cock twitch against the crotch of his trousers from the demure way her eyes lifted, how they watched him under her long, dark lashes, how her perfectly pink lips curled. “Yes, Daeron,” she tested his name and it was sweet like honey on her tongue. “You have nothing to apologize for, nothing has changed what happened tonight.”

He blinked, empty, almost dumb until she sweetly reminded him, “I am your lady wife now,” and her smile brightened as Daeron grew rosier with her words. “I am yours, Daeron.”

She closed what little space had remained between them, her small palm resting on top of his large hand stilling resting on his chest. Daeron felt his throat hitch from her sweet scent of lavender that curled into his chest and beckoned him to her. He tilted his head, his silver tresses spilling forward, until the tip of his nose gently touched her own.

And he kissed her. 

arcie’s masterlist

[br0kenangel]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅: 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

The nursery was a whirlwind of noise as Aegon and Aemond, stood nose-to-nose, arguing fiercely. Their baby sister sat on a blanket nearby, her wide violet eyes watching them with a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“She likes playing with me more!” Aegon insisted, his voice rising as he pointed toward their sister. “I’m the one who makes her laugh!”

“No, she likes me better!” Aemond shot back, crossing his arms defiantly. “I’m the one who reads to her!”

Their bickering continued, growing louder with each passing moment, neither of them noticing the soft patter of tiny footsteps approaching. Little Daeron toddled into the room, his big eyes full of innocence. He looked from Aegon to Aemond, then over to his sister, who was sitting quietly on her blanket, seemingly forgotten by her squabbling brothers.

Without making a sound, Daeron walked over to his sister, his steps wobbly but determined. He reached out with his small hands, and she, always delighted by her youngest brother, lifted her arms toward him. With surprising ease for his age, Daeron picked her up, wrapping his little arms around her as he balanced her on his hip.

The older boys were so engrossed in their argument that they didn’t notice as Daeron carefully carried their sister out of the nursery, her giggles muffled as she snuggled against him. He navigated the corridors with surprising confidence, eventually finding his way to the garden, where the late afternoon sun bathed the roses in a warm, golden light.

Daeron gently set his sister down between the tall rose bushes, their vibrant blooms towering over her. She giggled again, reaching out to touch the soft petals of a nearby flower. Daeron watched her for a moment, a wide smile on his face, before carefully plucking a small rose. He held it delicately in his tiny hands, just as he had seen the maids do, and then leaned in to tuck it into her hair.

“There,” he said in his sweet voice, his words still slightly lisped. “Pretty.”

His sister beamed at him, her little hands clapping in delight as she reached up to touch the flower in her hair. Daeron’s smile widened, and he began to hum a tune—one of the lullabies he had heard their mother sing. His voice was soft and uncertain, but the simple melody seemed to enchant his sister, who watched him with adoration in her eyes.

Meanwhile, back in the nursery, Aegon and Aemond’s argument had finally come to an abrupt halt when they realized their sister was nowhere to be found.

“Where is she?!” Aegon asked, his voice tinged with panic as he looked around the empty room.

Aemond’s face had gone pale, his one good eye wide with fear. “She’s gone!” he cried, the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes. “We lost her!”

The two brothers tore through the Red Keep in a frantic search, their hearts pounding in their chests. Servants were questioned, corridors were scoured, and they even checked behind the curtains in every room. But there was no sign of their sister.

Finally, they reached the garden, bursting through the door with wild, desperate energy. Aegon was ready to yell out for help, his voice rising in a cry that was sure to bring the whole Keep running, when he suddenly stopped short.

There, nestled between the rose bushes, was their baby sister, sitting comfortably in Daeron’s lap. The tiny boy was still humming his lullaby, his chubby fingers gently combing through her silver hair as she gazed up at him with adoration. And then, to the utter shock of Aegon and Aemond, she leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on Daeron’s lips, her expression filled with innocent affection.

Daeron giggled, delighted by the kiss, and wrapped his little arms around her in a tight hug. She responded by snuggling into his neck, hiding her face shyly as if to escape the world in the safety of her youngest brother’s embrace.

Aegon and Aemond stood frozen in place, their jaws dropping in unison. The jealousy that coursed through them was almost palpable, their earlier argument now seeming insignificant in the face of this new development.

“How did he—” Aegon started, his voice a mix of disbelief and frustration.

Aemond, still stunned, could only shake his head. “She kissed him,” he murmured, as if saying it aloud would make it any less unbelievable.

Daeron, completely aware of the turmoil he had caused, simply looked up at his older brothers with a straight face. “We playing,” he explained in his cold voice, as if he didn't wanted them here.

Finally, Aegon stepped forward, reaching out to take his sister from Daeron’s lap. “Come here,” he said softly, his voice gentler now as he lifted her into his arms. She looked up at him with those big, trusting eyes, and his heart melted all over again.

Aemond joined them, standing close as he reached out to stroke her hair, his earlier panic forgotten. “We were so worried about you,” he murmured, his voice filled with relief.

But their sister, still cuddled against Aegon’s chest, just giggled and reached back toward Daeron, making it clear she wanted to keep playing. Daeron, proud of his little adventure, stood up and toddled over to them, his smile as bright as the sun.

“She's mine,” he said, more sharp this time, and the two older boys couldn't help but be scared of his tone.

Part 1 ♡ Part 2

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴛ ʏ ʀ ᴀ ɴ ᴛ ⸻

Pairing: Yandere HOTD x Targaryen Reader Part 1

Summary: Everything was fine. You were happy. Your mother was expecting a child, and soon enough, you would have another one to call family, to call your own. Everything was perfect. What could possibly go wrong?

˚꒰notes꒱‧ Reader is Rhaenyra's twin. Criston is already reader personal gourd. Dark reader. English is not my first language. Gifs don't belong to me credit to the owner. Hope you enjoy!

The chamber was warm, bathed in the soft glow of afternoon light that streamed through the narrow windows, casting golden patterns on the stone floor. Y/n stood by her mother’s bedside, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from Aemma’s face. Her mother was always beautiful, but now, heavy with child, there was a fragility to her that made Y/n’s heart stir in ways she wasn’t used to. A strange protectiveness, an almost suffocating need to keep her safe from all the sharp, ugly things in the world.

Aemma’s hand, delicate and pale, rested atop her swollen belly. Her breathing was slow, rhythmic, and tired. Y/n could see it, the weariness that clung to her mother’s every movement. She had been sick often lately, and though no one spoke of it, Y/n could feel something dark looming over them. Something inevitable.

"You must be kind, Y/n," Aemma said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, but still full of that soft warmth that made her sound so motherly. "Be careful… be kind. To people… to the babe."

Her mother’s words hung in the air, and Y/n felt a smile tug at her lips—soft, gentle. Kind. I have always been kind, she thought, her mind drifting to the moments where she had shown her love, in the ways only she knew how.

“I am kind,” she replied softly, kneeling beside her mother’s bed and taking Aemma’s hand. It was cool to the touch, but still, her mother’s fingers closed weakly around hers. “I’ve always been kind to you, Mother. To Father, to Rhaenyra... I will be kind to my brother too.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, a secret shared between them. “I’ve already chosen a dragon egg for him. Dreamfyre's, and he will be great. He will be a king, Mother.”

Aemma smiled, but it was tired, worn. “You sound so certain it’s a boy,” she said with a faint laugh, but there was no real joy behind it—just exhaustion.

“It’s just a feeling,” Y/n said, her smile deepening as she leaned down to kiss her mother’s cheek, lingering just a little too long. Her skin is soft, she thought, and cold. Like a candle that’s been left to burn too long. But that’s alright. Y/n had warmth enough for both of them. She could give that to her. She would always take care of her mother.

Her lips brushed her mother’s cheek one last time before she pulled away, straightening her posture. "Rest, Mother," she whispered, her fingers trailing lightly over Aemma’s arm as she withdrew. “I’ll be back soon.”

As she left the chamber, Y/n's mind wandered. A king. My little brother will be a king, and he will love me more than anyone else. More than Rhaenyra ever could. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. Her brother, with silver hair like hers, riding a dragon she had chosen for him. She could already see it—the two of them, bounding, and nothing would ever come between them. This time there would be no rats like that cunt, Alicent.

But now... now she had other needs to attend to. A different kind of satisfaction.

She made her way through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, her mind already drifting to him. Her favorite. He’s always so eager for me, she thought with a smirk. So desperate to please, so desperate to be needed. She liked that about him—his submission, his willingness to do whatever she asked without question. And his hair... gods, his silver hair. It always reminded her of home.

She reached the brothels and paused at the door, her hand resting on the cold wood. Do I want him soft tonight? Or do I want to see him cry? She wasn’t sure yet. Maybe both. Maybe neither.

Pushing open the door, she stepped inside, her eyes immediately finding him. He was kneeling, waiting, as she had taught him to. His head bowed, silver hair falling into his eyes. The sight sent a flicker of warmth through her—something like affection, but sharper. He’s beautiful, she thought. Perfect.

"Look at me," she commanded softly, and he obeyed, lifting his head to meet her gaze. His eyes were wide, nervous. Good. She liked him that way.

"I’ve missed you," she purred, moving closer, her fingers already itching to thread through his hair. Yes, he’ll do well tonight. Maybe I’ll let him cum.

The smile that spread across her lips was soft, almost tender. I am always kind.

The room was dark, the air thick with the remnants of sleep. Y/n stirred under the silk sheets, her body warm, still damp from the night’s indulgences. Her skin glowed faintly in the low light, the satisfaction of her desires lingering like an aftertaste. She let out a sigh, stretching lazily, the weight of Aelor’s body no longer pressed against hers.

Then she heard it. A faint sound—something off. Her eyes snapped open, sharp, awake.

Aelor stood at the foot of the bed, naked but trembling, a dagger held to his throat. His silver hair was messy, his chest rising and falling quickly, eyes wild with panic.

She sat up slowly, letting the sheets fall from her body, completely unbothered by her nakedness. Her gaze locked onto the dagger, her voice calm, almost disinterested. "Aelor," she said softly, “put that away.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he shook harder, his knuckles white around the handle of the blade. “I can’t,” he whispered, his voice shaking. "I can’t do this anymore."

Y/n frowned, her brow furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?"

Aelor let out a sob, his knees buckling as he stumbled backward, pressing the dagger harder against his skin. “You—you’ve made me miserable! Every time I’m with you, I feel like I’m dying. You’re cruel, you’re wicked, and you’ve taken everything from me! I hate you!”

Y/n blinked, her head tilting slightly, almost like she was confused. “You hate me?” she repeated, the words foreign to her. No one hated her. How could they? She was perfect. Is this a joke? She didn’t like it.

“Yes!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “You’ve ruined me! I want to die! I want to end it, right here, right now!”

For a moment, she just stared at him, her mind racing. This is ridiculous. He’s being ridiculous.

"Aelor," she said, her voice low, almost soothing. "Stop this nonsense. I can give you anything you want. Do you want gold? A dragon egg? A house by the sea? Just put the dagger down and tell me what you want."

But he shook his head violently, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t want any of that! I want to die! I want to be free of you!”

Die? The word was distant to her. Why would he want that? He has everything. She shifted, the furs slipping from her as she regarded him coolly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Aelor. You have a good life. You’re mine. What could be so bad about that?”

But he wasn’t listening. His breaths were coming out in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as he teetered on the edge of some terrible decision. “I can’t... I can’t... I want this to stop. I want—”

And then she heard it. A whisper. Faint, from the other side of the door.

“The queen… she’s gone.”

Her heart stopped.

Everything froze. The room, Aelor, the very air around her seemed to still as the words sank in.

"The queen is dead," came another hushed voice from outside the door. "Died in the birthing bed."

The words hit Y/n like a physical blow, sinking deep into her chest. Dead? No. Not Mother.

The room spun, and suddenly her world collapsed in on itself, like a dying star pulling everything into its cold, black heart. Her breathing quickened. She blinked fast, too fast. Her mother was gone. Her mother was gone.

No.

She felt her throat tighten, the air in the room thick and heavy, pressing against her skin. Her vision blurred, the walls seeming to warp and bend. She could hear something—an incessant buzzing in her ears, like bees trapped inside her skull, buzzing louder and louder until it drowned out everything else.

Y/n’s world collapsed inward. The sound of blood rushing in her ears, louder and louder, a deafening buzz. Her vision blurred, the room swimming, spinning. Mother. Mother is dead. She’s gone.

She tried to shake her head, tried to clear the sound, but it wouldn’t stop. The room was too bright. Too small. Too loud.

Her chest tightened, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the edges of her world shrank, leaving only the endless ringing in her ears and the hollow, aching emptiness that stretched out before her.

Gone.

Blinking rapidly, she shook her head, trying to clear it, but the buzzing only grew louder, drowning out everything else. She wanted to scream, wanted to tear the walls apart, to make everything stop, but her body wouldn’t move. Her hands twitched, her fingers curling into the sheets, the fabric slipping through her grasp as if it wasn’t even there.

And then, through the haze, she saw Aelor again, standing there, still holding the dagger to his throat, still crying, still screaming for a release that didn’t matter anymore.

For a moment, she just looked at him. Her mind was blank, her heart hollow. Then, like ice breaking through, her lips twisted into something resembling a smile, cold and sharp.

“You know what?” she said softly, her voice almost sweet. “You should do it.”

Aelor blinked, his tears stopping momentarily as confusion washed over his face. “W-what?”

“Go on,” she urged, her voice a low, deadly whisper now. “Slide it across your throat. End it, like you said.”

His face paled, and the dagger in his hand shook. “No… I don’t—”

“I’m not asking.” Her voice was like steel, cold and unyielding, her eyes dark and focused on him with terrifying intensity. “I’m telling you. Do it.”

“Y/n, please—”

“Do it!” Her voice cracked, sharp and vicious. “You want to die, don’t you? You hate me, don’t you? Well, go ahead, Aelor. Do it. Kill yourself. Right here, right now.”

He stumbling back, eyes wide with terror. “No… I don’t want to—”

Y/n stood, the sheet slipping from her naked body as she stepped forward, her eyes locked on his. “Oh, but you were so sure a moment ago. You were so brave.” Her voice was mocking now, cruel and sadistic. “What happened, Aelor? Where did all that courage go?”

He whimpered, pressing himself against the wall as if he could disappear into it, his eyes wide with horror.

And Y/n’s smile widened, her gaze never leaving his. "Do it," she whispered again, her voice now laced with something dark, something cold. Like Mother’s skin. Cold like her.

Criston stood outside the king’s chamber, listening to the muffled sobs of the king as he grieved for his dead wife. It was a sound that shook him—a king reduced to tears, broken by a loss so profound that even Criston, found himself feeling an unfamiliar weight in his chest.

Rhaenyra sat silently beside her father, pale and stiff, like a statue carved from stone. But Y/n was nowhere to be found.

"Where is she?" the king whispered, his voice hoarse. "Where is Y/n?"

Rhaenyra lifted her eyes, but said nothing, her gaze distant, lost. She was mourning too.

Criston stepped forward, his hand instinctively tightening around the pommel of his sword. He knew where the princess was. He always knew. She had a… pattern.

Viserys looked up, his eyes red and swollen. "Find her. Bring her back."

Criston nodded, his expression calm but his insides twisting. "Yes, my king." He turned swiftly, leaving the room with heavy steps, his mind already racing. The brothel. She's at the brothel.

He moved with purpose, the corridors of the Red Keep passing in a blur as he descended into the streets of King's Landing. The brothel was well know, a place where she often disappeared when the weight of her world became too much. The place where she would indulge in the pleasures that soothed her disturbed soul. Criston had been there many times—always to fetch her, to drag her back to the world she so desperately wanted to escape.

The madam greeted him at the door, her face a practiced mask of indifference. She knew why he was here. She always knew.

"The princess?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.

The madam didn’t even blink. "Upstairs. First room on the left."

Criston didn’t wait for more. He strode through the dimly lit hall, the stench of sweat, wine, and sex thick in the air. His heart pounded harder with each step, the weight of dread settling in his gut. He knew Y/n's moods—her recklessness—but something felt different this time. Something was wrong.

He reached the door, pushing it open without hesitation. The sight before him made his breath catch in his throat.

The man, her lover, lay sprawled on the floor, his throat slit from ear to ear, blood pooling beneath him like a dark, crimson lake. The smell of death hit him instantly—metallic, thick, suffocating.

And there, in the center of the room, sat Y/n. Naked, her knees pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. Her skin was stained with blood—his blood—and in her hand, she still clutched the dagger. Her face was blank, hollow, as if all life had drained from her.

Criston’s heart clenched painfully in his chest. Gods. What has she done?

Without thinking, he rushed to her side, kneeling in the blood, ignoring the way it soaked into his white cloak, staining it red. His hands were shaking as he reached for her, gently trying to pry the dagger from her grip. "My princess… Y/n… what have you done?" His voice was soft, filled with worry, but there was no judgment, no anger. Only concern. Only devotion.

She didn’t respond. She didn’t even look at him. Her eyes were distant, staring ahead as if she were seeing something far beyond this room, far beyond the dead body at her feet.

Criston’s heart raced as he pulled the bloodied dagger from her hand, tossing it aside. He reached for the corner of his cloak, the pristine white fabric now ruined, and began to gently wipe the blood from her skin. His hands moved with care, as if she were fragile—like a porcelain doll that might shatter at any moment.

"My princess," he whispered again, his voice tight with desperation. "It's me, Criston. It’s all right. You’re safe. I’m here."

But she still didn’t respond. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes unblinking. Criston could see the toll it was taking on her, the way her body shook faintly with each breath. She looked… lost. Like the little girl she had once been, scared and small.

“I want to go home,” she whispered, her voice so soft he almost didn’t hear it.

He froze, his hand stilling on her arm as he looked at her. She didn’t meet his gaze, didn’t seem to even recognize him.

“I want to go home to my mother,” she repeated, her voice breaking, fragile, as if she were clinging to some distant hope.

Criston’s heart shattered. The queen. He knew the news hadn’t reached her yet. Her world had been her mother, and now… The queen was gone.

He swallowed hard, blinking back the sting in his eyes as he reached for a cloak from the bed, wrapping it carefully around her naked body, covering her from the cold that seemed to seep into her skin. "You’ll go home," he whispered, his voice trembling just slightly. "I’ll take you home."

With a soft grunt, he lifted her into his arms, her body limp and unresponsive as he held her against his chest. She was so small, so light. He hated seeing her like this. She was always so strong, so sharp. But now… now she was silent, and it terrified him.

He held her tightly, cradling her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, his white cloak now drenched in blood as he carried her through the brothel.

The madam said nothing as they passed, and the other patrons kept their eyes averted. Criston’s face was set, his jaw clenched, his eyes forward.

I’ll take her home. It's alright. Everything would be fine.

Even if the rest of the world collapsed around them, he would be there. Always. For her. Only for her.

As they left the brothel behind, he felt her shift slightly in his arms, her breath warm against his neck.

“I’ll take you home, princess,” he whispered again, more to himself than to her. "You don't need to be scared anymore."

Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[sialater18]

I find myself agreeing with this woman’s thoughts on Alicent’s character this season. Which is a shame in many ways…

(Tagging those who might be interested in what this video has to say, I apologize if any of y’all have been trying to get this off your mind only for me to tag you here lol)

@alicentsgf , @lemonhemlock , @thewitchqueenofharrenhal , @spacerockfloater , @gwenllian-in-the-abbey , @forgotten-fossilised , @florisbaratheons , @applepie2523 , @tessarionbestgirl , @queenvhagar , @the-daily-dreamer , @chocobroing , @lunamond , @gojuo, @fearthhereaper , @abla-soso

[maidragoste]

hey , si only 8 days till the first episode arrives sooooooo , will we blessed with new the queen and her husband content ? ;)

Hi anon, a day late but here you have new content of the Queen and her husbands, this time Aemond is not present in this but I still hope you like it 🥰🥰

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated 💖💖

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Prince Daeron snuggled deeper into his hiding place as he heard footsteps. He silently waited for whoever he had entered to leave. But then the long tablecloth that covered the table was lifted, revealing his parents crouching down.

“Is there a place for us?” His father asked with a smile and normally Daeron would have calmed down when he saw it but with the words of his grandmother and the maester still running through his head, he wanted to cry.

You and Aegon exchanged a worried look when you saw that your son only nodded with his lips in a straight line, nothing like your always happy baby.

The prince saw how his parents took the crown off their heads and then left them on the floor and got under the table with him. Father pulled the tablecloth again to hide the three of them from the rest of the world.

Daeron felt warm and loved with his body pressed between yours and Aegon's. He wanted to stay there forever, with father holding you two and your hands gently stroking his hair while you hummed his favorite song. But he knew that his parents couldn't stay hidden with him forever because you were king and queen and you two had many things to do and he also had to return to his lessons.

“Am I grounded?” he asked making you stop humming.

“Should we punish you?” Aegon asked instead making his son look at him confused.

“I ran away from my lessons,” the prince said, not understanding why neither you nor Aegon seemed upset or angry with him.

“We know, your grandmother and the maester told us,” you told him.

Both you and Aegon noticed how Daeron grew smaller at the mention of adults. You watched as your husband frowned and clenched his jaw. You had no idea what was going on in his head but it clearly wasn't a good thing.

“Did they do something to you?” he asked, surprising you and your son. But Aegon didn't mince words, if Alicent or that maester had dared to lay a hand on his son then his mother would return to her family home in Old Town and the maester would be Sunfyre's next meal. “. “Daeron if they did something to you you have to tell us.”

"They didn't do anything," the boy quickly said when he saw the serious look in his father's eyes. He didn't want his grandmother and the maester to get into trouble because of him. "It's just that," he fell silent, not being sure if he wanted to talk about what was distressing him. He didn't want to disappoint you two.

“You can tell us anything, little dragon,” you encouraged him when you saw that he seemed hesitant. “No one will be mad at you,” you assured him and kissed his forehead.

“They said I should do better in my lessons if I want to be a good king.”

Your heart broke as you heard your baby's trembling little voice. And Aegon felt his anger with his mother increase, it had not been enough for him to make him feel inadequate for most of his life and now he made his son feel bad too.

But any anger was forgotten with Daeron's next words.

“But I don't want to be king because if I'm king then it means mother and you aren't with me anymore!” He shouted before bursting into tears and Aegon rushed to pick him up and lift him onto his lap. Daeron's hands quickly latch onto his father's neck as he begins to rock his body from side to side like he did when Daeron was a baby.

You watch with a heavy heart and without knowing what to do. You weren't prepared for this conversation. You can't lie to your son and tell him that the two of you would never leave his side because neither of you is immortal. But you don't want to stay silent either. You want to comfort your baby and make his anguish disappear.

“My little dragon, you don't have to worry about that yet,” you began to speak while you gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Your father and I will live for many years, so long that we will start to bother you and you will want us to leave you alone."

“It's a lie, I'll always need you,” he said, making Aegon laugh and earning a kiss on the forehead from her.

“I'm going to tell you a secret but you have to promise not to tell anyone,” you said as you raised your little finger and your son soon intertwined his own finger with yours, looking at you with his violet eyes full of curiosity.

“Won't you make Father promise too?” He asked when he saw that you didn't extend your pinky to Aegon.

“No, because he has known for a long time and never told anyone,” you responded, making your husband smile and you leaned in to steal a short kiss, making the prince complain. “Someone’s anxious,” you scoffed.

“Mother, I want to know!”

“Do you remember your uncles Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey?” Your son nodded repeatedly, excited because you didn't usually talk about your brothers as much as Uncle Egg, and Aegon made sure to put one of his hands on Daeron's head to prevent him from hitting the table.” Well, when I miss them a lot they usually come to see me in my dreams. So when you miss us or need us you can look for us in your dreams.”

“And you are always going to come?” Daeron asked anxiously.

“We can't promise that but we'll try,” your husband answered for you when he saw that you weren't sure what to say.

“I hope you make an effort or I will get angry with you,” the prince warned, crossing his arms, but instead of intimidating you, he made you two smile.

“It seems fair to us” You kissed his cheek and Daeron smiled.

“Now stop worrying and go find your brothers to play,” your husband said as he carefully lowered Daeron off of him.

“But my lessons”

“I ran away from my lessons all the time and I'm still a good king, right?”

“Aegon, don't give him any ideas,” you patted him on the back but your husband could see that you weren't seriously reprimanding him or that you were upset by how you were holding back a smile. After all, he sometimes sneaked out of his lessons to be with you. He still remembered how Alicent scolded him when she found him in the gardens with you but he didn't care because in the end, you had made him a pretty flower crown, if it were up to him he would have worn it until the flowers had withered but he could barely use it for two days when his mother forbade him to continue wearing it because he was not acting like a prince. “Today is an exception but then you have to continue attending your lessons with the maester and pay attention,” you said, bringing your husband back to the present.

“If I have to study more then I don't want to be king” the boy complained.

“Being king sounds tough, right?” Aegon sighed dramatically. "But don't worry, your mom and I will take care of everything so when your turn comes you won't have a lot of work to do,” he assured his son as he ruffled Daeron's hair. “Now go to play.”

Daeron smiled and kissed each of them on the cheek.

“I love you,” he said before quickly leaving under the table feeling much better.

Taglist The Queen and Her Husbands:

@watercolorskyy @chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @sweethoneyblossom1@fudge13 @alisoncdariel @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @your-favorite-god

@snowprincesa1 @snh96 @rosey1981 @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99   @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @hannaeditzs @multi-fandoms-stuff

@zverea @solacestyles @lilithskywalker  @justsumtuffstuff @crispmarshmallow @afro-hispwriter @libdarkheart @chevelledahuman @helloitsshitzulover  @ladybug0095

@ietss @serendippindots @ultraviollett @akinatrix @papery-maniac @merovingianprincess @hnybitches @m1ndbrand @giulia2372   @noisyinfluencerstrawberry

@bajadotcom @woodandwaxwings @mendes-bae @sustisama @imjustboredso @remuslupinwifee @sarcasticking9 @melllinaa  @letsloveimagines   @zillahvathek

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[l-uminescent]

˚⁀➷｡˚ THE EYES OF A DRAGON  ━━━ DAERON TARGARYEN X FEM! READER & JACAERYS VELARYON X FEM! READER

synopsis: the dreary weather of dragonstone results in you recalling the events of the past year. your escape from your first love, daeron targaryen leaves you with a new life as a dragon keeper where you eventually learn to love again, much to jacaerys velaryon's delight. with the calling of the dragon seeds you are needed to protect the crowd against the fury of vermithor's wrath. surprisingly however, you find yourself with a new companion, one in which the green's are keen to acquire. as daeron writes requesting to talk to you again after finding out this news, your loyalty to jacaerys velaryon will evidently be tested with the return of your old lover.

request (rough translation): hello, could you please make a love triangle story between jacaerys x reader x dareon. since she is the daughter of an ancient dragon guardian (reader's mother died when she was born) she was raised by her uncle who is also a guardian of the dragons and her other uncle was a grand maester in ancient times. when she visited her uncle she met dareon, where she had a friendship and then dareon broke reader’s heart and returned to dragonstone. the war began to recover the throne of rhaenyra and jacaerys calls for the dragon seeds. reader in dragonstone was guarding the nests of dragon eggs by order of her uncle and came across the cannibal who was going to eat the eggs. not wanting that to happen, she tried to calm and control the terrifying dragon, and let her ride it. she realises that she is a dragon seed, therefore meeting jacaerys and striking up a friendship with him. after a while, in battle she meets daeron again. he tries to apologise, telling her he loved her and that he wants her to come back with him - it could be because of her, or the dragon she possesses, as she and cannibal are capable of seriously injuring vhagar and destroying the green’s. but, the reader loves jacaerys and doesn’t plan on betraying him.

notes: thank you sm @alyssa-dayne for requesting!! i kind of went off on a tangent and completely disregarded some of the requests you made, i’m so sorry😭 i hope you enjoy what i did write in its place though bc i had so much fun writing it and absolutely loved your request!! ive also seen a tiktok fan casting harry gilby as daeron and omg i am in love ?? and will be using him from now on. both daeron and Jace have been aged up to 21.

warnings: kind of dark! daeron, language, misogyny, violence, blood mentioned, angst, fluff w jace, friendship w ulf

word count: 4.9k

IT HAD BEEN ALMOST A YEAR SINCE YOU HAD STEPPED FOOT IN KING'S LANDING LAST. the pain of it all was still an open wound. still raw, still bleeding. it would take time for it to heal, time for the cut to be fully stitched up, to pick up the broken pieces. you were prepared to take all the time in the world for it to mend itself since escaping the viper's den. but it seemed like the gods were out to get you, throwing you back into the war that cut you in the first place.

it was many many moons ago that you were brought to the capital in the first place. your uncle was a maester and after the passing of your mother thought it would be best that you were to be brought to the red keep. he kept you close, keeping it a secret from the rats in the walls that he was giving you the same education the males received. so you spent many late nights with him, studying the language and histories of old instead of the usual sewing and stitching you would do during the day with your septa.

that was where you met him for the first time. daeron targaryen. you had been studying late with your uncle in the library. you uncle was an avid believer that a girl had every right to the same knowledge as a boy. a creak of a door had broken your study of the history of the seven kingdoms, revealing a slender blonde in its place. he walked over to your dimly lit table greeting your uncle, whispering something you couldn't make out. you studied him as he spoke, hazy mind too frazzled with tiredness to fully comprehend the boy that had been brought before you.  he was an angel to you, nothing like you had ever seen before. you thought the seven had blessed you with his falling from the heavens above, with hair as blonde as the snows in the north and eyes as purple as the flowers that blossomed in high garden you could not help but be enamoured. and that was the beginning of your fall.

you often reflected on that day in the library, meeting daeron for the first time as the rain patters against the walls of stone in dragonstone. being in a room with nothing but your own thoughts and defeaning silence lead you to the edge of madness. most days, it meant you reminisced on your times in the capital and now, as you lay in bed as the fire in the hearth dwindles and your candles burn low, you think of the blonde beauty. you finally understand why your uncle fought so hard to keep you away from the targaryen boys, "cynical beings" he called them as daeron left the library that night. you would never forget how his eyes graced your figure. the soft smile playing on his lips was a definite contrast to the dark hue that took hold in his eyes. you failed to pick up on this, too besotted by the man in front. panic however, was written clear across your uncle's face. he was accustomed to the targaryen's and their 'favourites'. how a being of lesser status would be that intriguing to them that they had to keep them near was a tale that was repeated constantly in the cycle of the dynasty. "they would stop at nothing to get what they desire, my dear." you remember him warning you, "and i began to fear that daeron targaryen has set his sights on you."

you had wished you heeded the look of distain and the words of warning from your uncle. yet you were so naive to the ways of the world, so young to be thrown into the den of dragons. you recount the day he began to approach you. it was subtle to begin with, he often sought you out to walk in the gardens when your uncle was meant to be teaching him. sneaking away early claiming he was needed to train in the yard, yet it was to seek you out instead. it was every so often at the start, you used to mistake it for coincidence. but it soon turned to daeron needing to see you all the time, glancing at you as he trained, the odd walk in the garden was never enough. and so it began.

daeron began to court you in every sense of the word. small trinkets and gifts would often be sent to your chambers. blushes would stain your cheeks as looks of wanting were shared across feasts and celebrations. touches, that were held a tad too long were daeron's favourites for a while.  he adored seeing the bashfulness on your face, as his slender fingers tapped your waist as he sought you out for every dance. 

you were a fool to fall for it. the targaryen's were a messy family, a mess you had no business being thrown into. but, you were drawn in just the same. the longing glances and subtle touches, turned into stolen kisses as daeron snuck his way through the passages maegor had built. you had thought you were in love with the man, and he with you.

how wrong you were. 

and you were too late to realise.

with the death of king viserys came what would be known for centuries as the 'dance of the dragons.' and you had just so happened to find yourself in the middle of it. your strong-mindedness and wilful opinions clearly saw you taking the side of the blacks. what right did anyone have to deny the heir the king had named just because she was born a girl? you often thought. you saw how unfairly women were treated by the scholars, how they were subjected to needle work with the septa's rather than the histories from the maesters. with the reign of a new queen you had hope that she would put an end to the inequality that was evident throughout the realm.

this sense of hope came crashing immediately with the entrance of daeron to your chambers. he spoke of aegon being raised as king. "it is only right." he would exclaim, "he is male. what use would my half-sister be if  she were to sit the throne, she is too weak."

you were enraged by this. the blatant disregard for rhaenyra, branding her as weak felt like a swift knife to your stomach. "you think i am weak then too daeron?" you recalled saying with a shake to your voice. "just as i am a woman, you deem me incapable. you think me stupid? hmm? you believe just because i was born this, i would not be fit to do anything other than sew, and produce heirs?"

you had always heard the people of the court say that the targaryen's were closer to god than man, something you would often brush aside. you could never picture your sweet daeron as mad as they claim the rest to be. but, you had finally awoken from whatever haze-induced state in that comes with being in love with a targaryen. the look in his lilac eyes would be one you would never forget, haunting your nightmares for moons to come. you now understood the fear of those who crumbled beneath that of the conqueror, swearing fealty. daeron's eyes conveyed the message words could not. you would learn to fear him, if you ever dared cross him.

tears, made themselves known then. spilling from your cheeks, you began to silently cry as the man you loved left you with that. daeron, would never see you equal just as he would never see rhaenyra fit to sit the iron throne. because of what you had been born. 

and thus with that you had made your decision, no amount of fear could stop you. with the news of aegon's planned crowning seeping through the walls of the red keep, and your once whole heart being left behind also, you had slipped away into the shadows, disguising as a fisherman's daughter as you and your uncle sailed to dragonstone to declare for queen rhaenyra targaryen, first of her name.

it was hard at first in dragonstone. your uncle sought audience with the queen, stating what had occurred on dragonstone and how you had managed to escape. nevertheless, the queen was wary of you. it was no secret that daeron had began to court you, how the two of you would eventually marry. they did not know you had discovered the darker side, the misogyny within. a look of sympathy was evident in the queen's eyes as she saw your heart break all over again as you recalled the story, she herself being reminded of the betrayal of alicent hightower. her good-will meant that you were allowed to stay within the castle, your uncle taking up schooling the queen's sons and you were to begin work with the dragon keepers along with your other uncle, who you barely knew. 

the many days of training with the other keeper's kept your thoughts off daeron's betrayal. you had hardened over the course of many moons, building your walls high and swearing to never give your heart to another.

that would be seen to not have lasted very long due to a certain dark-haired prince.

you had met jacaerys velaryon for the very first time when you were sent to keep guard of the smaller dragon's, vermax being one of them. you had tried your very best to make yourself scarce in his presence as you patrolled the pits. but the loud roar's of the dragon's still made you jump every so often, and in doing so you had dropped your spear. landing with a loud clatter, jacaerys' head had whipped around to see what had happened, only to find you. a chuckle had escaped his lips at your clumsiness, calling out a "new to the job?"  much to your unamusment.

"yes, well, my prince i am very much new to being this close to a dragon." you bit back in response.

a second had passed before jacaerys had beckoned you closer to him and his dragon. not wanting to anger him, you gingerly approached; still deathly afraid of dragons. 

"vermax here is a sweet dragon, here place you hand atop his snout. you will not come to any danger so long as i do not will it." he teased, but seeing your face pale he quickly announced he was only jesting.

your hand shook as it rose from your side as you slowly reached for the dragon. faltering, as vermax breathed out smoke. jacaerys noted your fear and guided your hand with his placing it on his dragon's snout. goosebumps rose across your skin at the contact and you were sure your sickly face regained some colour as your cheeks heated at the close proximity.  "see i told you, you would not get hurt."

and so it began again,except it was different this time. 

you found it almost easier to love jacaerys, or jace as he wanted you to call him. he was not as needy as daeron was, allowing you to always have your space but making sure you knew he would be with you in a heartbeat if you needed him. you adored the boy, how freckles splattered across his cheeks like stars, how his dark curls sometimes got in his eyes when he yielded as sword, and how he respected you. jace would always take the time to help you with your studies if needs be, to teach you how to wield your keeper's spear. he treated you as an equal, something daeron never did. the softness of jace was something you also never had with daeron. the kisses shared, were full of longing, full of love differing, heavily from the fierce, lustful ones of your previous lover. he was everything daeron was not.

you knew then that you wanted to marry jacaerys. there was not a second doubt in your mind. your loyalty for him was unwavering, he had made you learn to trust love again. you owed him everything, and you swore you would repay the love kindness he gave you as you still looked out at the dreary weather of dragonstone.

━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━

with jace's calling of the dragonseeds, your skills as a keeper were put to the test as many poor folk streamed in from the streets of king's landing and dragonstone alike. the drone of voices woke you from your daze as you paced up and down the stony column that separated you from the dark unknown of vermithor's cave. both men and women started to appear being lead by rhaenyra herself, jace slowly behind. you were confused with the lack of dragon keeper's accompanying her, as it seemed to be only you and your uncle who accompanied the crowd. 

you stood to the side, as both rhaenyra and your uncle called for the dragon in high valyrian - a language you were still learning to speak. a slow, menacing growl greeted rhaenyra in response to her call and movement caused the crowd to stir fearfully. from what you had studied about the ways of the keepers, was that dragon's could smell the fear of the person approaching. and with a crowd this afraid you were sure vermithor would not react well. 

the rising of the copper beast saw many yelp as he beared his blood stained teeth. despite your focus on the dragon ahead, you noticed those of higher status leaving to take shelter in the stone stands above.  you willed yourself to take a few deep breathes as your eyes met jace's worried ones, he took note of how you remained still not daring to follow the other lord's footsteps. he knew how stubborn you were, you swore to protect the people from the dragon's and he knew you would not leave no matter how hard he begged.

a forced smiled adorned your lips as you stared back at jace, a nod following, telling him that you were to do the role his mother had assigned to you.  facing the beast as jace returned to safety you pointed your spear at it, forcing yourself to remain as calm as possible, you slowly approached him. it was no use. the overpowering fear of the dragonseeds had sent vermithor into a hunger induced frenzy, sending sprouts of fire into the group. chaos erupted as the fire took hold of the first seed who had tried to approach. rolling out of the way, you had began to push a group of star-struck women who seemed to be rooted to their spot. you shouted an ear-defeaning "run"as loud as you possibly could to as many people as possible, as you stayed as close to the edge of the column trying to take vermithor's attention away from the others.  adrenaline coursed through your veins as you attempted to poke the dragon with your spear. yet it was no use, vermithor moved too fast and too furiously for you to catch him sending waves of fire to whatever living thing he could see as he did so.

jace watched on in absolute terror as you moved yourself closer to the dragon, dodging at only the last second to avoid the ripple of flame. his hands gripped the ledge of the stand he looked out upon tightly, knuckles whitening as he did. he had already tried to run down the steps to pull you to him, but the queen's guard had stopped him in the process, his mother deemed him too important as heir to be killed in such a way. so all jace could do is watch, praying to all the gods he could think of to grant him this wish of keeping you alive.

a loud shout from behind you had alerted you of the oncoming flames as you tried to help another group of people to safety, rolling out of the way you had landed up against rock who seemed to also cover the man who had warned you of vermithor's next attack. returning your gratitude, you had grabbed the man's cloak and had pulled him against the wall at the back of the cave. the two of you grabbed ahold of two of the many torches that lit the dark room, and scaled the edge of the cave, holding onto the side as you weaved in and out of the connecting paths between each lair. "thank you for saving me back there." you remember saying to the man. as the two of you walked, you had learned that he was called ulf, and claimed to be the bastard son of baelon targaryen. you did seem to be weary of the claim, you had heard from many the love the man had for his wife alyssa, swearing not to take another lover for as long as he remained alive, but now wasn't the time to question it so you left it at that. 

as you continued to walk for what felt like hours, ulf roared in happiness that he seen a light at the end of the awful narrow cave you had ventured down. the two of you began to break out into a run, thanking the gods that you had managed to make it out unscathed. the feelings were short-lived though, as the alley had opened up to the largest cave you had ever seen, and an even larger eye glistened in greeting you as you stepped out. 

the sound of blood could be heard in your ears as you realised that you were now face to face with the largest dragon on dragonstone - the cannibal. your flight or fight seemed to kick in that moment, months of keeper training seemed to as well, as you shoved ulf back down the corridor you came down and spun to point your weapon at the monster ahead. 

the dragon seemed to be almost taken aback by your courage, nose flaring with smoke as you stood eyes wide with the spear facing him. the cannibal knew you were no match for him, yet it seemed he admired your courage. he studied you, as you also studied him waiting for his attack. his black scales made him blend in easily with the darkness of his lair, only the torch you had dropped when you pushed ulf seemed to mark his presence as well as his gleaming green eyes. they seemed to bore into your own, as he assessed whether you were friend or foe. you did not break the eye contact once, your hands still tightly gripping the spear as if it was your lifeline, your only hope at survival. 

it seemed however, that this hope prevailed. the cannibal had made his decision of you, bowing slightly smoke emitted from his gigantic snout almost knocking you down. it seemed somewhat friendly. you could not believe what you had done, with your courage it appeared that you had somehow managed to claim the largest dragon alive, the first person to ever do it. gods you could not wait to show jace about this. 

you remembered that day like it was almost yesterday despite many weeks having passed since. jace had almost murdered you. he thought you had perished in the flames of vermithor. as you stumbled up to the castle to tell the queen what had occured, jace had been there too. he had kissed you in front of everyone, not caring that the rumours would swirl afterwards. he was in sheer relief that you had returned to him safely and managing to tame the cannibal in the process. 

in that time also, you had taken to flying the cannibal. only a short distance at first, around dragonstone as you were still wary of his size and his cannibalistc nature having to fight him many a time to not eat the eggs laid by the other dragons on island, it took him a while to gain your trust and he you due to his unease with having a rider. it was not until you began to speak to him in high valyrian that the bond between the two of you was sealed, completely unbreakable.

and at this, you woke earlier than usual this morning to fly him to king's landing - making it known to the green's that rhaenyra had the largest dragon on her side. a smirk was plain on your face as you sawed the skies on your beloved dragon, and you were sure he held the same expression. it almost felt revengeful as you lapped around king's landing dipping as close to the castle as possible without being in reach of arrows. your intent was to prove to daeron you were stronger than he thought - you had claimed the biggest dragon after all. you had made sure that all were to see. the cannibal seemed to enjoy the screams of terror revelling at the attention, he let out a defeaning roar as he dipped and rose again, just to sweeten the revenge. 

you knew it was time to go when you heard the rustling of trees in the distance. vhagar was indeed no match to your dragon but you weren't ready to test the water's just yet with a dragon nearly the size of your own. you drew back from the capital, as the she-dragon's body became visible in the skies. "let us go home"you spoke to the cannibal. heeding your words he carried you across the waters back to the safety of dragonstone. as he settled once more in his lair and a stern "don't eat any more eggs!" from you, you began to clamber back to the castle, your ego boosted now that aemond targaryen deemed you a threat. you had only wished now to see the targaryen brothers reactions when they discover that it was you that rode the largest beast in the realm. 

━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━

the rain pattered steadily against the window as you lay in bed, recounting these moments. the candle's in your room seemed to flicker as they reached the end of their wicks giving you the sign that it was time to go. the note clutched in your hand deemed that the whispers seemed to reach daeron targaryen's ears quickly enough, he was now informed that the rider of the cannibal was none other than his old lover. you pulled your robe on, reading the piece of parchment for the final time before the candle's fizzled out completely. daeron had requested to meet you, no violence, no fights. he just wanted to talk. your curiosity got the best of you sadly and you wrote back earlier in the day saying you would talk peacefully. he had agreed to meet you on your own shore, at the edge of dragonstone. it was safely out of the way of the black's, meaning that they would not be able to see the meeting but not far enough that a screech from a dragon would go unnoticed, so you deemed yourself safe enough.

even though the cannibal blended perfectly with the night sky, the sheer ferocity of his size meant that there was absolutely no way you would be able to bring him without being spotted by a guard of some sort. so you entrusted the help of ulf, the man you had protected from your dragon many moons ago. the two of you had struck up some sort of odd friendship despite the age difference being vast, you found the man quite funny and he you. he could not believe a girl as clumsy as you had managed to save him from the cannibal as well as claiming him in the process.

ulf was the perfect man to deliver you to daeron. as you snuck into the dragon cave silverwing resided, he had already mounted the dragon - a sense of excitement emitted from him for doing something so secretive, something the queen could never find out about. you however were the exact opposite. nerves ate at your stomach as you gripped onto elf's torso. you had thought you were going to be sick, you hadn't seen daeron in almost a year. you wondered if he looked different, if he sounded different, if he thought different.

you had to force these thoughts out of your mind as silverwing made her descent in the trees a few yards away from the clearing where daeron and tessarion stood. you did not want him to know that you had entrusted someone with the knowledge of this secret meeting, so you had told ulf to patrol the skies and you would wave at the sky if you needed him. he agreed to go reluctantly, only after making you promising to give him a ride on cannibal the following day. you huffed out a laugh at this, ulf always knew what to say when you felt anxious. 

as your friend and his dragon took to the skies again, you began to enclose the distance between you and the blonde prince. anxiety once again took reign of your body, you could feel your heart pounding in your ears and you hands began to shake uncontrallby. you forced them to play with the ring jace had given you in promise that he would marry you after the war had ended. your mind grounded itself at the thought of jace, even as you came face to face with daeron. you thought of jace, how you had to return home safely to him.

"you claimed the cannibal then." daeron spoke. he hadn't changed one bit since you seen him last, his lilac eyes still sparkled in endearment at you even after all this time. 

a sigh escaped your lips as you drew even closer to him, "didn't think i could do it?" you responded snarkily, head tilting to the side slightly as awaited his answer. 

all he could do was shake his head and laugh. "you have not changed one bit. i have missed you."

your eyes were slightly wide at his confession, taken aback by it. you weren't expecting that, you were prepared for daeron to beg you to join the green's, for him to tell you how you would be increasingly useful to win the war. you had not prepared for his expression of feelings. he took your look of bewilderment as a sign to continue.

"i still stand for aegon's claim, he is stronger than my half-sister, but i wish for you to come back. aegon said he will pardon you for your crimes of betrayal and treason if you return with me to king's landing. we will marry and you will become a princess of the realm."

there it was. you knew his confession was too good to be true. "oh speak plainly daeron." you spat. "you only wish for me because of my dragon." rage took hold as you moved close, tilting your head up, you began look him in the eyes. you wished to convey to him the sheer anger you felt at his words, just like the look he had given you all that time ago. except now, the blood of the dragon ran within you too. 

you were now nearly pressed to the boy, your voice dropped to a dangerously low whisper as you continued. "you see me as weak daeron. i alone, have claimed a dragon twice as powerful as yours and you still do not deem me as worthy, as an equal. i will never join the cause of a fucking usurper when the woman who i fight for deserves the throne."

he hummed in response, a wicked smile taking over his face. "you only fight for them because of that bastard." the look of shock on your face was clear as you faltered slightly at his sharp words. "didn't think i had heard? i have given you a chance to join me, my love and you have refused. i will bring fire and blood upon that bastard until you have no choice but to stand by my fucking side."

his hands came up to grip your jaw forcing you to look into his eyes as he spoke the last sentence. you knew what he was capable of and you knew what he said he meant to make true. that didn't stop you from scoffing at his words, your tongue rolling over your lips as you did so "he is more man than you will ever be daeron. bastard or not i will marry him, or i will be long cold and dead in the ground. either or, it would happen long before i would ever, ever stand by you and you betray the man i love."

at this, daeron used the hand he had on your jaw to shove you away, anger plain on his face. the heart that had once bled for him was replaced by something cold, something darker. the love for jace was the only thing in it that burned strong, you would do anything to protect him from the monster before you. you promised yourself, you would die before you let daeron touch a hair on his head. you weren't the same naive girl you had been when you first laid eyes on daeron targaryen. and you weren't the same stupid girl who coward when that  his lilac bore into yours the night you left. as that look returned to his face before he once again turned to leave, tears did not stream from your eyes as it did all that time ago. instead, you held his gaze, your own pupils mirroring that look - you now too held the eyes of a dragon.

[asumi2020202]

The Right Choice

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader(slight), Daeron Targaryen x reader

Summary: After everything that has happened, you thought he would change. Only for him to inflict a bigger scar as your hope for this marriage vanishes into thin air.

A/n:Thank you for reading.

Alternate ending of: Everything has a Price to Pay

_______________________________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ__

War was at its peak. It had been almost two weeks since the last time you met Aemond in your shared chambers. Your wounds had healed leaving behind just some aches.

You knew that he didn't speak the truth. The informer of the green, Larys Strong had informed them that Aemond had returned to Harrehal. And that his whore was pregnant with his bastard.

You knew he would do so. You knew he would not be able to keep his word. Because if he truly was faithfully, then he wouldn't had slept with her in the first place.

You didn't really feel anything. You were disappointed,Yes, but you wouldn't hold him back if he did love her. You had your son and your family.

Instead of being dissatisfied with his actions and crying over it, you thought of asking your eldest brother to annul the marriage.

Aemond had broken the gentle girl you once were. The pain and betrayal numbed your mind. No longer did you care of what the others would say.

_________________________________________

Word had been sent to the Red Keep from Harrehal that Prince Aemond would bring back his whore to the Keep.

Your numbed soul hurt. Alicent didn't even want to call him her son but she couldn't deny it.

He had stated that a room should be prepared for... Alys. The name of his whore.

You simply couldn't stand the thought of being with him again. Not when that perpetrator would also stay with his whore inside your very home.

You asked the maids to shift your belongings and your son's to another room. Your mother, the dowager queen had told you to stay with Helaena since Aegon doesn't sleep with her.

She thought that since both of you had the same fate, you could find comfort in each other.

You had agreed. Hastily leaving the room along with your son to find your eldest brother, the king.

_________________________________________

Aemond had landed near the dragon pit. He got off of Vhagar before carefully taking Alys off of Vhagar as well.

Alys had tried to touch Vhagar. Trying to pet her like Aemond does but Vhagar gave a loud and angry growl. And almost tried to bite her before Aemond intervened.

Alys fearful of the dragon, hid behind Aemond.

He turned and saw Moonfyre giving a very angry and loud scream towards them before both the female dragons flew off in the sky.

Aemond, turning his gaze back to Alys, guided her inside.

_________________________________________

As he walked through the garden and inside the corridors, he could see you talking to someone. It was a man. He too had white hair like him and was tall like him.

Aemond asked a passing maid to escort Alys to her room before he saw you coming towards his direction. The man going the opposite direction.

As you tried your hard to walk past Aemond and avoid him, he grabbed your hand.

"Y/n.." he started.

You turned to look at him. He felt a pang of hurt in his chest. Your eyes looked hollow unlike the way it shined when you conversed with the other man.

" It was just one night . I didn't think she would get pregnant. I couldn't leave her there, knowing our enemies might attack any time. I really am guilted. I didn't wish to hurt you love. Please forgive me." He spoke, looking at your face as you looked outside.

"I'm sorry I couldn't satisfy you. That you sought out another woman for pleasure." You said. He was about to speak but you didn't give him the chance.

"From now on you can live with her. I hold no grudge. After all, it is my fault for not being able to hold my husband to myself.

But don't worry you can love her as much you wish from now. You and I will only be related through blood and name, nothing else. I already found someone who will love me."

"My love. I don't understand what you mean. Found another? We are married. I am your husband and you are my wife." He spoke up, hoping you didn't mean what he thought you mean. Anger and jealousy in his voice.

"No longer. I had asked Aegon to annul our marriage after you're raven arrived. And he did so. The whole of kings landing knows of what you did brother. The council has decided that me and my twin will marry each other so I can be relieved of the shame you bestowed upon me. Daeron and I did loved each other before he was sent to old town.

Now that I am no longer bound to you, I am free to marry him and my son does need a father. Aegon assured me that my son will be acknowledged by the people as mine and Daeron's son, as the people haven't seen Aenor yet. You would be wise to not disturb us." You spoke with venom as you walked away.

Annul the marriage? Your twin? When did Daeron return from old town? Aenor will be claimed as Daeron's son. His younger brother.

So many thoughts went around Aemond's head. He had messed up everything just for pleasure. He lost the only who loved him for who he was and now she left him along with his son.

Defeated, he asked a maid to escort him to where Alys was.

_________________________________________

All the family had gathered in the dining hall. Aemond came in and saw everyone already chatting and conversing. His eyes looked for you until they did find you.

In your right sat Helaena, conversing with you. And on your left, in his seat, sat Daeron.. he saw how the two of you held hands and occasionally smiled at each other.

His thoughts were disturbed as he felt a tugging on his arm. It was Alys.

The entire family's laughter and peace was stopped due to the unwanted face in the dining hall.

"Brother. I thought that this hall was only for family, you had been the one to tell me that. And yet you bring some whore here. Aren't you acting hypocritical?" Aegon said. Giving a disgusted look towards Alys.

Aegon noticed your discomfort with Alys present. He knew he treated his wife the same but Helaena was weird to him. Yet you... were his perfect little sister.

Aegon had completely changed after becoming the king. He couldn't quit drinking but he didn't go to brothels.

"Alys will be eating with us from now on. And I suggest you show her some respect." Aemond replied as Alys looked down.

"Suggest? Hah!" Aegon laughed. "Are you trying to intimidate me brother? I am the king. Your whore is of little worth to me." Aegon continued.

"Aegon." Alicent tried to stop her son. She got up from her seat and came around the table at your side and gently placed her hand on your arm.

"I could behead you and whore at once for the shame you brought to the house and my sister." Aegon said as Aemond had nothing to reply with. He only looked at your face as you turned away.

"Guards. Escort prince Aemond and that.... Witch! to their chambers." Aegon ordered as the said people were escorted away.

You looked at Daeron as he offered you a smile which you reciprocated and intertwined your hands together.

_________________________________________

"How could you?! You ruined everything that I had! Just to cover up one lie of yours! You decieved me!!"

"I'm sorry Aemond but I needed money to raise my child! I had to do it. I am sorry if I hurt you.. but I do accept that I never loved you to begin with."

Hurt?! You took everything from me! My child! My wife! My family!.. And now you tell me that... The child is not even mine?!!

Shouting could be heard throughout the castle.

Alys had been secretly seeing and writing to her lover. Not Aemond. Aemond had accidentally seen them kissing when he entered the room.

She confessed that she was pregnant before they even laid with each other. That the child was of her lover's.

Aemond in a fit of rage even slapped her when she told him that she only stayed with him for money to run away with her lover.

Aemond felt betrayed. Just as he felt when his father didn't take his side when he lost his eye. He felt blocked from all sides. Because of his mistake, no one in his family believes him anymore.

He ran out the door as fast as he could. He hastily reached the dragon pit and mounted Vhagar.

He took off to the place where Aegon had been coronated. As got off and pushed through the crowd. Tears flowed from his eye.

There you stood before the crowd. You and Daeron. As the High Septon finished his speech. You lips and palms were already cut. By the time he reached, you two were drinking from the cup.

He saw the way you both kissed eachother so lovingly, the same way he did when you both got married. But now he had to see his brother do that to you.

His mother, the dowager Queen. His brother, the king. His grandsire, the Hand. His sister, the Queen. All stood there and smiled. The crowd were cheering. Yet Aemond felt bitter.

_________________________________________

The Dowager Queen and The Hand had left for the Red Keep along with the King and the Queen.

Daeron was mounting Tessarion and you Moonfyre. Aemond ran to meet you. As he did, you looked down at him.

"It isn't mine. That child isn't mine." Aemond spoke. He was panting, having to run all the way to you.

"Oh that.. I already knew. Helaena told me 2 days after I last met you." You spoke calmly.

"Already knew?" He felt confused.

"Well if my mind serves properly, Helaena told me through her riddle 'The one who he sacrificed for is not his own.' "

Aemond didn't even know what to say, so you spoke for him.

"Brother..... I know it was a mistake you made. I won't blame you for seeking love hence I forgive you for what you did but I don't know if mother will. I am thankful to you." You spoke.

"Why would you thank me for what I did?" Aemond didn't understand what you said.

"I am thankful because for your mistake I was reunited with my twin, my husband. I blindly thought I loved you but it seems that I was wrong. I can only give you one advice... Move on." You said the last sentence coldly, not sparing him even a glance. And with that Moonfyre and Tessarion flew into the sky, roaring from above.

Aemond stood there, his one eye saw your pain and anguish. His tears fell endlessly as he stared into the sky.

_________________________________________

You stood near the corridor of the second floor, staring at the training yard. While your husband, Daeron, cradled your son to his chest.

You turned to your husband as he gently kissed you with one hand cupping your cheek and tilting your head up.

"I am to go get a dragon egg for my little princess." Daeron said as his eyes travel to your stomach.

"Princess? How do you know it'll be a girl? I am betting a barrel of wine that it'll be a boy. Mother's intuition." You replied to your husband, smirking at him.

"Let's see who will win. The father or the mother." Daeron spoke, giving you his kinky smile. You got on your toes to kiss his cheek as you both were leaving for your chambers.

Beknownst to you, Aemond had seen everything you two were doing. He felt hurt. Hurt because he couldn't experience it. Hurt because he saw how happy you were with his brother. He regretted everything he had done that day. The day he laid with the whore.

He saw you both leaving. While he was blinking away his tears, he saw you angle your head a little towards him. He saw you smile and rotate you head back to the front.

He heard you say a sentence before you left with you husband and child. One that completely broke him.

..."I finally made The Right Choice".......

-Lillian

[aemondmybbg]

five (5) new bots out!!

@ illumielle on character ai ᡣ𐭩

(1) aegon x wh0re!user (he takes her to red keep as maid (like shae and tyrion)) (req)

(2) daemon x sister!user (during the tournament he calls his sister the queen of love and beauty who was engaged to viserys to piss off the court and his brother. but of course he loves her hehe (like aemon and naerys but i dont think i got it right) (req)

(3) cregan x targaryen(strong)!user (rhaenyra sends her only daughter to the north to betroth cregan and gain Stark's support, they spend a lot of time together and become closer, but one evening news comes of luke's death!) (req)

(4) daeron x niece!user (marriage after the dance of the dragons, where they learn to show affection to each other) (req)

(5) gwayne x targaryen!user (she's the forgotten second daughter of viserys, always overshadowed by rhaenyra, and he's otto's son, always overshadowed by alicent! they actually find a lot in common and gwayne invites her to go to oldtown with him!) (req)

my requests are still open but will be closed soon. i have a few more requests left that i will definitely do! but now i'm a bit tired of it and want to focus more on my own ideas!

[novaursa]

I need this kind of drug please Dareon targaryen x reader velarion Dareon kidnaps his loving niece of dragonstone after he finds out that he will marry jacaerys in 1 moon Dareon and her get married on while she argues with him, she pulls him by the hair so he lets her go, she takes his virtue after the moonlight act If you want you can go wife but you are mine not your brother's oh can you stay uh figure out with me a way to avoid this ridiculous war

Wedded in War

- Summary: Your uncle steals you from Dragonstone and takes you as his wife; true to his name: Daeron the Daring.

- Paring: niece!reader/Daeron Targaryen

- Note: I hope this is what you had in mind. 🙂

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The cool winds of Oldtown bite at your skin, tugging at your gown as Daeron pulls you through the crowded streets, his grip firm on your wrist. The Starry Sept looms ahead, its dark silhouette bathed in the fading light of the setting sun. The scent of salt from the nearby harbor mingles with the distant smell of incense, and despite the beauty of the ancient city, all you can feel is anger seething in your chest.

“How dare you take me from Dragonstone!” you snap, your voice low but filled with fury. You tug against his grasp, but his hand tightens, his pace unrelenting. “You had no right, Daeron! You must take me back. You will take me back.”

His face, pale and sharp in the dwindling light, remains tense. His violet eyes flick to you, but he does not stop, does not yield to your demands. “I couldn't leave you there to marry Jacaerys. You were meant to be mine,” he says, his tone desperate yet determined. “I love you, Y/N. I won’t let you go so easily.”

His words ignite a fire within you, burning with the weight of your stolen future. “This is madness!” you shout. “Do you not see what you’ve done? You’ve stolen me from my home, from my family!”

“You’re Targaryen blood,” he responds, stopping at the steps of the Starry Sept and turning to face you. The people passing by give the two of you strange looks, but you don’t care. All that matters is the rising anger within you and the thrum of your heartbeat. “And Targaryen blood must stay pure.”

Your chest tightens at his words, his intention sinking into you. He had taken you not out of love, but out of duty, out of a belief in keeping the family line strong, unbroken by outsiders. “So, that’s all I am to you?” you spit, your voice shaking with a mix of fury and pain. “A means to an end? A symbol of blood and fire?”

His hands come up to your shoulders, his gaze pleading as he draws closer. “No, you’re more than that, far more. I’ve always loved you. Since we were children.” His voice softens, and you see something in his eyes beyond duty, beyond the pressures of his station. “This isn’t just for the bloodline, Y/N. I will love you, cherish you, protect you. I swear it on my life.”

You hesitate, your heart warring with your mind. There’s truth in his voice, an undeniable sincerity in the way he looks at you. But the weight of what he has done presses on your chest, suffocating and confusing. You had been promised to Jacaerys, and now everything has been turned upside down.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice breaking slightly. “Marry me. Stand by my side, as you were always meant to.”

Your heart skips a beat, caught between his words and the bitter reality of your situation. Can love truly grow from such treachery? You don’t know, but even as your thoughts swirl in chaos, you can feel the pull between you and Daeron, the undeniable bond forged in dragon’s blood and shared history.

With a deep breath, you nod once, barely perceptible, and his shoulders sag with relief. Before you can think further, he pulls you into the Starry Sept, where the High Septon waits.

The vows are spoken in hushed tones, and your fingers tremble as Daeron slides a silver ring onto your finger, the weight of it foreign and heavy. The Starry Sept is grand and cold, its vaulted ceilings seeming to reach toward the heavens, but it feels like a prison. Your heart aches as you repeat your vows, your mind still reeling from the events of the past few hours. 

When it's done, the ceremony leaves an emptiness within you. You’re no longer the daughter of Rhaenyra, destined for Dragonstone and a future with your brother, Jacaerys. You are now the wife of Daeron Targaryen, bound by the oaths you swore beneath the Seven’s watchful eyes.

Later, in the solitude of the chambers prepared for your wedding night, you sit by the window, looking out over the darkened city of Oldtown. Daeron stands nearby, silent as he watches you with an unreadable expression. The bed looms in the background, its presence thick with expectation, with the weight of the night ahead.

“Do you hate me?” he asks quietly, his voice almost swallowed by the sounds of the city below.

You don’t answer immediately, unsure of how to put your feelings into words. You look back at him, at the young man who had taken everything from you and offered only himself in return. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what I feel.”

He approaches slowly, cautiously, as though fearing you’ll turn away. His hand brushes against your cheek, and despite everything, there is tenderness there. A part of you wants to flinch away, to push him from you and demand he return you to Dragonstone. But another part, deep inside, wants to believe him, to believe that perhaps, in this dark, twisted way, he loves you as deeply as he claims.

“I swear to you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, “I will never hurt you. I will love you every day, with every breath. You are mine, Y/N, and I am yours.”

The words, soft and full of promise, melt the last of your resistance. You reach up, touching his face, your heart a chaotic mix of anger, confusion, and something that feels dangerously close to love.

The night is a blur of emotion—of whispered vows and lingering touches. You both lose yourselves in the heat of the moment, shedding the weight of your shared innocence in the embrace of one another. The world outside ceases to exist, replaced only by the warmth of his skin against yours, the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand. For a moment, you forget the war, the bloodshed, and the sacrifices.

Afterward, as Daeron sleeps beside you, his silver hair fanned out against the pillows, you lie awake, staring at the ceiling. The sheets feel too heavy, and the silence too loud.

Will this sacrifice, this union born out of desperation and desire, truly end the war? Can love, even one as complicated and fraught as yours, be enough to save the realm from the fires that rage on the horizon?

You don’t know, but as you drift toward sleep, you find yourself clinging to the fragile hope that perhaps, just perhaps, it might.

[misswynters]

Chance Meeting in Oldtown

Daeron Targaryen x reader

[WARNING: none

[word count: 561

[a/n: harry gilby fan casted as daeron since we have no daeron currently (pretend in the gif he has white hair)

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

The bustling streets of oldtown were alive with the sounds and smells of the market. As the daughter of House Baratheon, you had visited many cities, but Oldtown's unique charm always drew you in. Today, you wandered through the maze of stalls, your curiosity piqued by the variety of goods and the stories behind them.

As you admired a delicate piece of jewelry at one of the stalls, you felt a presence beside you. Turning, you found yourself face-to-face with a young man of striking Targaryen features: silver hair, violet eyes, and an air of quiet confidence. He smiled, a warm and genuine expression that immediately put you at ease.

"Admiring the crafts of Oldtown?" he asked, his voice smooth and melodic.

You returned his smile, nodding. "Yes, they're quite beautiful. The artisans here are very talented."

He extended a hand in greeting. "I am Daeron Targaryen. It's a pleasure to meet you, my lady."

You took his hand, a bit surprised by the informal introduction. "I am ____ Baratheon. The pleasure is mine, Prince Daeron.”

Daeron's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "What brings a Baratheon to Oldtown? Seeking knowledge at the Citadel, or perhaps just enjoying the sights?"

"A bit of both, actually," you replied. "I find the history and culture here fascinating. And what about you, My prince? What brings you to the market today?"

He laughed softly, a sound that was both charming and disarming. "Sometimes, it's nice to escape the confines of the keep and see the world through the eyes of its people. Plus, I have a fondness for exploring new places."

You found yourself drawn into conversation with him, his easygoing nature and genuine interest making the time pass quickly. As you walked together through the market, you shared stories of your respective houses, your hopes for the future, and your thoughts on the state of the realm.

At one point, Daeron paused at a stall selling rare books. He picked up a worn, leather-bound volume and handed it to you. "Here, a gift. This book contains some of the oldest legends of Westeros. I think you might enjoy it."

You accepted the book, touched by the gesture. "Thank you, Daeron. I will treasure it."

As the afternoon sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the city, Daeron turned to you with a thoughtful expression. "It has been a pleasure spending the day with you, ____ . I hope we can meet again."

You smiled, feeling a connection with the Targaryen prince that you hadn't expected. "I would like that very much, Daeron."

He took your hand once more, this time pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "Until we meet again, my lady."

As Daeron walked away, you couldn't help but watch him go, a sense of anticipation and curiosity filling your heart. The chance meeting in Oldtown had been brief, but it left you with the feeling that it was only the beginning of something significant.

࣪⠀⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗  

Back in your chambers that evening, you opened the book Daeron had given you. As you turned the pages, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for you and the enigmatic prince you had met in the heart of Oldtown.

© misswynters ‘24 - don’t modify or steal my writings

[br0kenangel]

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐁𝐒: 𝘓𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯.

Aegon and Aemond, along with little Daeron, played with the great beast. The boys were fearless in their affection, cuddling close to the lion, burying their faces in his soft fur, and giggling as his tail swished lazily from side to side. Silver Fang tolerated their antics with the patience of a creature who knew he was the king of the jungle—though he was well aware that his true queen was you, the lady who sat nearby, watching with a soft smile.

"Mother, tell us how you got Silver Fang," Aegon asked, his eyes wide with curiosity as he stroked the lion's thick mane.

Aemond, who was more reserved but no less intrigued, looked up from where he was resting his head on Silver Fang’s massive flank. "Yes, please, Mother. Tell us."

You smiled, your heart warming at the sight of your boys so carefree and happy. "It was a gift from my father," you began, your voice soft, your eyes distant as you recalled the memory. "He gave Silver Fang to me when I was just a little older than Aegon is now."

"Why did he give him to you?" Aemond asked, his voice tinged with awe as he glanced at the lion, who lay still and majestic beneath their hands.

A knowing smile tugged at your lips. "Because I was afraid something might happen to me. I was a child, and the world seemed so big and dangerous. My father, Lord Gerold Lannister, knew this. He knew the fears that lurked in my heart, so he gave me Silver Fang to protect me, to keep me safe when he could not."

Aegon’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "And did he? Did Silver Fang protect you?"

You chuckled softly, leaning back in your chair as you regarded your sons. "Oh, yes. He did. Once, a man tried to harm me. I don’t remember his name—he was someone who thought he could get what he wanted by force." You paused, watching as Aegon and Aemond leaned closer, their young minds enthralled by your tale. "But Silver Fang… he didn’t let that man take a single step toward me. He tore him apart, devoured him alive."

You said the words calmly, almost casually, with a smile that was both serene and chilling. There was no fear in your recollection, only satisfaction in the lion’s loyalty, in the protection he had offered you when you needed it most.

Aemond’s eyes widened, a mixture of amazement and admiration in his gaze. "He ate the man alive?"

"Yes, Aemond," you replied, your smile widening slightly. "He did. And that’s why I know you’re safe with him, just as I was."

Aegon reached up, placing a small hand on the lion's massive paw, marveling at its size and strength. "He’s so beautiful… and strong."

"That he is," you agreed, your voice filled with pride as you looked at Silver Fang, who blinked lazily at you, his golden eyes reflecting the light of the setting sun. "And he will always protect you, as long as you treat him with love and respect."

Your conversation was interrupted by the soft sound of a servant approaching. The young woman curtsied deeply, her voice deferential as she spoke. "My queen, your brother has arrived. He is waiting in the hall."

You rose gracefully from your seat, your golden gown shimmering in the light. "Good," you said with a smile. "I have been expecting him." You looked down at your sons, your expression softening. "Stay here with Silver Fang, my loves. I will return shortly."

Leaving the boys in the lion's care, you made your way to the hall, where your brother awaited you. As you entered, Jason turned, his face breaking into a broad smile at the sight of his sister.

"Y/N," he greeted warmly, enveloping you in a tight embrace. "It’s good to see you."

"And you, Jason," you replied, returning the embrace with affection. Though he could be brash and arrogant, Jason had always been a loving brother to you. He wanted nothing but your happiness, and you appreciated that more than words could express.

Jason stepped back, his smile turning mischievous. "I brought what you asked for."

Your eyes lit up with anticipation. "You did?"

Jason nodded, gesturing to the guards who stood behind him. They stepped forward, each one holding a small, squirming bundle of fur in their arms. Four lcubs, barely old enough to be away from their mother, their eyes wide and curious as they took in their new surroundings.

Your heart swelled with joy at the sight of them. "They’re perfect," you breathed, reaching out to take the smallest of the cubs into your arms. It was a beautiful and rare creature, white as snow, with striking red eyes that seemed to see into your very soul, very much like your daughter. This one, you knew immediately, would be for Helaena.

Jason watched you with a fond smile. "I’m glad you like them. I thought they might make good companions for the children… and perhaps ease some of your worries."

You looked up at him, your expression softening. "Thank you, Jason. You’ve done more than I could have asked for." You kissed his cheek, and he smiled, pleased by your approval.

"I just want you to be happy, sister," he said, his voice sincere. "You deserve it."

You gave him a grateful smile before turning to the guards. "Bring them to my chamber," you instructed. "I want the children to meet their new friends."

The guards nodded, carefully carrying the cubs as they followed you back to your chamber. As you entered, Aegon and Aemond looked up, their eyes widening with wonder as they saw the cubs.

"Are these for us?" Aegon asked, his voice filled with awe.

You smiled, kneeling down to their level as you cradled the white cub in your arms. "Yes, my loves. They are for you." You gently passed the cub you held to a guard, then gestured to the other cubs. "You may each choose one. They will be your companions, your protectors, just as Silver Fang is mine."

Aemond’s eyes were drawn to a playful cub with a mischievous glint in its eyes. The cub was rolling around on the ground, batting at the guard's boots with its tiny paws. Aemond smiled, reaching out to pick up the spirited creature. "I want this one," he declared, laughing as the cub nuzzled into his arms.

Aegon, meanwhile, was drawn to a slightly larger cub with a wild, untamed look in its eyes. It growled playfully, baring its tiny teeth, and Aegon grinned, clearly captivated. "This one is mine," he said proudly, holding the cub close.

You watched them with a soft smile, pleased by their choices. "Take good care of them, my darlings," you said. "They will grow with you, and one day, they will be as strong and fierce as Silver Fang."

Little Daeron, sat nearby, giggling as he watched his brothers with their new pets. You approached him, your heart swelling with love as you picked up the calmest of the cubs. She was a gentle creature, her eyes soft and trusting as she looked up at you.

You knelt before Daeron, placing the cub in his small arms. "This one is for you, sweetling," you whispered, smiling as Daeron immediately began laughing and hugging the cub, his tiny hands stroking her soft fur.

The sight warmed your heart, and you watched for a moment longer, reveling in the joy on their faces. But there was still one more child to tend to, and you knew exactly what you had to do.

Holding the white cub with red eyes close to your chest, you left your chamber, making your way to Helaena’s chamber. The guards followed, but you dismissed them at the door, wishing to be alone with your daughter.

You found Helaena sitting on the floor, surrounded by her collection of bugs. The girl was lost in her own world, humming softly to herself as she watched a beetle crawl across her hand. You paused for a moment, your heart aching with love for the gentle, strange girl who was so different from her brothers.

Steeling yourself, you approached Helaena and knelt beside her, holding the cub up for her to see. "Helaena, my love," you said softly, holding the white lion cub up for her daughter to see, "this is for you."

Helaena looked up from her bugs, her pale lavender eyes focusing on the cub in your arms. For a moment, she simply stared, her expression unreadable. Then, a small, almost shy smile curled at the corners of her lips.

The cub squirmed slightly, letting out a soft, high-pitched sound as it gazed at Helaena with its striking red eyes. It was a strange creature, just like Helaena—different, unique in a way that set it apart from the others.

"She's different," Helaena murmured, her voice soft and melodic, as if she were speaking to herself rather than to you. Her fingers brushed lightly against the cub's fur, and the little lioness responded with a gentle purr.

"Yes, she is," you agreed, your heart swelling with a mixture of love and sorrow. "Just like you, my sweet girl. I thought you might like her."

Helaena’s smile widened, her eyes lighting up with a rare spark of joy. "She’s beautiful, Mother. Thank you."

A pang of bittersweet emotion welled up in your chest, but you pushed it aside. You gently placed the cub in Helaena’s lap, watching as your daughter cradled the tiny creature with a tenderness that belied her years.

As Helaena stroked the cub’s fur, she looked up at you with an expression of quiet understanding. "You’re doing this because you’re scared, aren’t you?" she asked, her voice soft but unwavering.

The question hit you like a blow to the chest. For a moment, you could only stare at your daughter, caught off guard by her perceptiveness. You had always known that Helaena was different, that she saw things others did not, but hearing those words spoken aloud shook you more than you cared to admit.

Your smile faltered for a brief moment, and you felt your carefully constructed composure begin to crack. But you forced yourself to remain calm, to keep the fear at bay. "I just want to make sure you’re all safe, my love," you said, your voice steady, though it took more effort than you would have liked. "That’s all I want."

Helaena tilted her head, her gaze softening as she watched you. "You’re afraid of what’s to come," she said quietly, as if she could see straight into your soul.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. You couldn’t afford to be weak, not now, not ever. Your children needed you to be strong, to protect them from the dangers that lurked in every shadow.

So you forced a smile, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to Helaena’s forehead.

Helaena smiled back at you, her eyes filled with a quiet wisdom that made her seem far older than her years. "I love you, Mother," she said softly, her fingers still gently stroking the cub’s fur.

"And I love you, Helaena," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You lingered for a moment longer, watching as your daughter continued to bond with the cub, before slowly rising to your feet.

You left Helaena’s chamber with a heavy heart, closing the door quietly behind you. As soon as you were alone in the corridor, you pressed your back against the cold stone wall, breathing deeply as you tried to steady yourself.

Helaena was right. You were scared—scared of what the future held, of the dangers that could threaten your children, of the possibility that you might not always be there to protect them. It was a fear that gnawed at you constantly, one that you tried to hide behind a mask of strength and calm.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay calm. You had to be strong, for your children. They were your life, your everything, and you would do whatever it took to keep them safe.

After a few moments, you pushed yourself away from the wall, your composure once again firmly in place. You had a role to play, and you would play it well. There was no room for doubt or fear, not when your children’s lives depended on you.

With one final deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and made your way back to your chamber. Your sons were still there, laughing and playing with their new friends, their faces alight with joy.

You watched them from a distance for a moment, a soft smile playing on your lips. They were so full of life, so innocent and unaware of the dangers that surrounded them. You envied them that innocence, but you would do everything in your power to preserve it for as long as you could.

As you approached, Aegon looked up, his face splitting into a wide grin when he saw you. "Mother, look! He’s already getting used to me!" he called out, holding up his cub proudly.

You chuckled softly, nodding in approval. "I see that, Aegon. You’re doing a wonderful job."

Aemond, who was still cradling his cub, looked up at you with a serious expression. "Thank you for this, Mother," he said quietly. "We’ll take good care of them, I promise."

"I know you will," you replied, your voice filled with pride as you looked at your sons. "And they will take care of you, just as Silver Fang has taken care of me."

You spent the rest of the afternoon with them, watching as they bonded with their new companions, your heart swelling with love and pride. The future was uncertain, and the path ahead was fraught with danger, but in this moment, you allowed yourself to believe that everything would be okay.

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ♡ Part 3 ♡ Part 5 ♡ Part 6

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[cambion-companion]

tell me why i imagine sweet daeron having a little boy's crush on aemond's wife because she's so gentle and kind with him

i saw someone else's ask about how he wants to be just like aemond, not only out of admiration but because he thinks "if someone like aemond can get a wife like (y/n) then so can i if i'm like that!!"

and sweet boy copying his mannerisms, pulling her chair out at dinners before aemond can and even though the chair basically towers over him, she's coddling and gushing at how polite and thoughtful he is and he MILKS that

so it becomes a playful rivalry between aemond and him and she's just "it's like you're actually intimidated by your baby brother"

and aemond who's hiding a giant bouquet of flowers behind his back only to one up the little rose daeron gave you "absolutely not. me? be rivaled by the twerp? never-"

Hi!! Oh my god this is darling, I cannot wait to write for these prompts! Cute little Daeron is 4 years younger than Aemond...so we will say he's 15 during this. Adorable.

Aemond x wife!reader | Daeron learning from his brother | admiration crush | playful brother rivalry

"Thank you Daeron, you're so sweet!" You smiled brightly at the boy as he extended to you a bouquet of wildflowers. "Ouch!" A stinging sensation spread around where a sprig of green had touched your hand.

"Ah, stinging nettle." Your husband mused, eyebrow raised at his younger brother as you dropped the offending bunch of flowers to the ground. "An interesting addition, Daeron."

"Gods I am so sorry Y/N!" Daeron looked from your wincing face to his bouquet now scattered upon the stone ground in alarm. "I have gloves on...and a very mediocre knowledge of local flora it seems."

Aemond took your sore hand in his, placing a gentle kiss to where your skin was reddening and swelling. Daeron noted his brother's movements with a studious gaze.

"Let's get you to the maester, I'm sure they have ointment on hand for such an affliction." Giving Daeron one last severe look, Aemond swept you from the room, leaving the crestfallen prince standing alone chewing his lip.

Later that evening, your finger lightly bandaged and no longer hurting, you found yourself entering the dining hall on Aemond's arm.

Daeron took note of your entrance, waving to you enthusiastically and striding over, a look of concern on his face. "Are you alright? I truly apologize for my earlier blunder." He extended a single red rose to you, giving you a slight bow.

You took the delicate flower, trying hard not to let your amusement show, especially as you felt Aemond shift in annoyance beside you. "Thank you Daeron, that is very thoughtful. I am quite alright."

"No loss of limb yet." Aemond agreed, shaking his head at Daeron's earnest expression. "Though I cannot speak for yourself should you continue giving my wife flowers."

Daeron frowned only slightly before he gestured for you towards the dining table, sweeping your chair out from its place for you to sit. He bowed again as you carefully took your place, sinking into the welcoming cushion. You scooted forward as Daeron pushed you into table. He overdid it in his eagerness to help, and your midriff was pressed uncomfortably hard against the wood. You let out a slight "oof" as some air was expelled from your lungs and pushed back with your hands.

From your peripheral vision you saw Aemond take his brother by the scruff of his collar, forcefully seating the young man into his own seat and giving him a hard pat on the shoulder. "If you want to impress a lady, Daeron, I suggest resisting the urge to bisect her."

You hid your laugh in the goblet of wine you brought to your lips, pretending to take a sip as Aemond took his place beside you, his hand resting briefly atop your knee. "Did my oaf of a brother do any permanent damage?" He was only half-joking, the annoyance still evident in the timber of his voice.

"I may never recover." You jested, leaning into him slightly, turning your face to place a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. "He is simply trying to mirror what he sees you do for me."

"He's failing spectacularly."

"Aemond." You chided, taking a moment to make sure Daeron couldn't overhear. "He looks up to you. Clearly he wants to learn from you."

Aemond huffed, bringing his own goblet to his lips. He didn't answer you, seeming to sink into deep contemplation as he often did when something troubled him.

------

The next day was clear and crisp, the winter air still chill despite the shining sun. You descended a set of marble stairs to the room you usually took your luncheon in. To your surprise you found Daeron and Aemond within, deep in conversation with each other. Daeron was nodding and Aemond had his hands clasped tight behind his back. They ceased speaking as soon as you entered, looking almost guiltily at you.

"I hope you're not up to anything that will raze King's Landing." You teased, your skirts rustling as you moved toward the table.

You stopped, looking at the spread of food laid before you. It was all of your favorite things to eat and drink. A little sample of each treat you so adored. "Aemond?" You asked, not taking your eyes off the delicious array of delicacies.

"I arranged for your favorite foods to be brought up for your enjoyment." Your husband inclined his head as you finally looked at him.

"I brought some books I thought you'd like to read while you took your afternoon meal." Daeron volunteered, looking slightly guilty as Aemond shot him a bemused glare.

"That was so very thoughtful of you Daeron, thank you for thinking of me." You smiled graciously at the young Targaryen.

Daeron beamed.

You moved to Aemond, tilting his head toward you with a finger to his sharp jaw. "Thank you my dearest." You kissed him softly upon his plush lips. You moved your mouth to his ear, whispering so only he could hear. "Though you do not need to compete with your brother."

"Speaking of my brother." Aemond said loudly, turning to face Daeron, an impish smile on his curved lips. "I've arranged for you to meet with several ladies your age from notable noble houses this eve."

Daeron's face blanched. "I...meet...tonight?"

"Indeed." Aemond shook his head, chuckling. "You seem intent on practicing your courtship skills on my wife, it's only fair you get more experience with other women." He patted Daeron on the shoulder. "Though do try not to maim them too badly."

"I'd never!" Daeron spluttered, glancing at you guiltily. "Not on purpose!"

"Remember what I told you regarding..." Aemond started but Daeron waved him off.

"Yes, yes, no need to repeat it in front of Y/N." A faint blush painted the younger Targaryen's cheeks, causing your brow to raise as you looked inquisitively between the brothers.

"You're lucky Aegon hasn't gotten wind of what you've been up to." Aemond continued. "He'd give you unending grief."

"Helaena's given me some useful tips I think." Daeron looked at you. "She told me flowers and chocolates are a sure way to a girl's heart."

"Being interested in her and listening to what she has to say, what she's interested in, is also a solid start." You agreed, smiling knowingly at Aemond as his eye found yours. "Though chocolate does go a long way."

The three of you laughed, Aemond's arm snaking around your waist, pulling you against his side. Daeron watched each movement Aemond made around you with attention, his lilac eyes bright with interest.

"Don't go to Aegon for advice on women." Aemond warned suddenly, his face grave as he looked down at his younger brother. "And if he offers to teach you anything about them, you come to me instead. Understand?"

"Yes." Daeron nodded, looking mildly confused at Aemond's unexpected severity.

You squeezed Aemond's waist lightly, reassuring him with your presence. "All will be well. Daeron, you are a dashing young man who is sure to sweep the right girl off her feet in no time."

"Thank you, Y/N. I can only hope to be as lucky as Aemond."

[allyriadayne]

There's something about maekar naming most of his children after other targs while baelor gave his own names free of any burden. something something maekar wanting glory and recognition through them something something baelor gifting autonomy to his sons under his own legacy. And in valarr's case it's interesting because he's free of an overbearing father like maekar but being baelor's son is such a heavy weight too. he's a mediocre knight, he wont be dunk's champion..... maekar saying when there's a drought and valarr's king, the smallfolk will wish for baelor and blame him.

Of course, this IS maekar projecting (fork spotted in kitchen etc) but it'd be true if valarr had ever become king. how noble baelor was, how honorable, how brave, how good. and these would be enough for someone to resent him (maekar!) but valarr kept participating in tourneys to try and become his father. and when I think about baelor just accepting nothing is ever going to change, accepting maekar's unfair stubbornness and valarr's indifference I want to screammm. he must be the good he wants to see in the world. and he dies.

[maidragoste]

can we get some headcanons for mister daeron, since he finally was mention on the last episode ✊🏻

Hi anon, thank you very much for your request! I really wanted to write to Daeron 🤭

btw, there is a headcanon that has smut but it is not very detailed, I still warn you that it is number 4 in case you want to skip it 👀

I really hope you enjoy what I wrote 💖 and if you ever come back to my inbox if you want you can choose an emoji so I can identify you ☺️

Now I wish you a good read!

•Daeron who is not interested in marriage but does his duty and marries you because he knows that having an alliance with your house is important to the greens.

•Daeron, despite not being enthusiastic about a hasty wedding with war looming, is enthralled when he sees you in your wedding dress.

•Daeron who recites his wedding vows while looking into your eyes and intends to be a better husband than Viserys was to his mother even if the two of you are only together for a short time.

•Daeron who on your wedding night is patient and sweet with you. He takes his time so that your first time isn't so painful. First, he distracts you by kissing you over and over again. Then he surprises you not by fucking you directly but by pleasuring you with his mouth, making you cum again and again with his tongue until you forget about your nerves. And when the time comes for him to go inside you, he intertwines his hand with yours. He waits for you to assure him that you're fine before he starts moving and it doesn't take long for the room to fill with your moans again as you feel his cock find your sweet spot.

•Daeron who you manage to impress when you meet Tessarion for the first time and don't show even the slightest bit of fear.

•Daeron having to stop himself from kissing you during their first fight because he's touched that you want to accompany him during the war instead of going back to your house.

“I can be useful. I am sure that the maester will value my help when he cannot afford so many wounded. I also know how to sew and...

“It's not about whether you're useful or not. It's about the fact that it's dangerous and I don't want you to end up hurt," he interrupted you with obvious frustration because you continued to insist on the topic of accompanying him during his war camp.

“I am your wife and my place is at your side!” you say stubbornly.

“And my duty as your husband is to protect you, not put you in danger!”

•In the end you end up joining the camp but it was not because Daeron wanted to but because the news of Jaehaerys' murder arrives and his uncle Ormund and your father think that Daeron and you need to have a child as soon as possible in case Aegon loses his other heir.

•That same night Daeron lets you see him vulnerable while he crying the death of his nephew hugging your hip. You accompany him in his grief and try to comfort him as best as possible while you hug him.

•Daeron was always protective of his family and now that you are part of it he will not allow anyone to disrespect you. A lord once mocked you for voicing your opinion during the war council and you and Ormund had to intervene so that Daeron doesn't end up doing the lord major harm.

•Daeron only relaxes once the two of you are alone in his tent. He lets you take off his armor and feels a moment of peace as you massage his shoulders and kiss his back.

•Daeron who prays that the war ends soon so that he can reunite with his family soon and above all because he wants to have a quiet life with you. Every night he asks the gods to protect you and not let anything bad happen to you.

•Daeron who, before going to fight, asks you to give him your favor and the two say goodbye with a kiss, earning mockery from Lyonel.

•Daeron who returns victorious from his first battle and feels his heart race as he watches you run towards him with a smile and he smiles when you scream in surprise when he lifts you into the air before kissing you fiercely, forgetting about the exhibitions and allowing himself to feel hopeful for the future.

Taglist: @stillalive-notdead @jasminecosmic99 @cloveradora @ghostingdaily @stareatch @accidentpronedork @universemagicreading

@cosmitton @momoko-world @descon0cidacl @fadingbatmuffindonkey @bryandechartisasmolbean

@arainbowteddybear @your-favorite-god @vicelis

@muramiko @strawberrrymomo @r4ndomgirlblog

@bringfhghghhggg @fifilynn16 @annie-panda

@mega-girl-xoxo @rovakiap @edenvvsblog @ryuuisthecutest @hebeth

hotd masterlist

[arcielee]

My House of the Dragons masterlist. Please be mindful of each story's tags and warnings!

modern Aemond masterlist modern Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Warnings: Please be mindful of the warnings for each story! Author’s Note: Just a masterlist of my ever-growing modern Aemond Targaryen stories. Enjoy! 💜

A love that burns. Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader [third person] Summary: Aemond is a man obsessed and you are the object of his unwavering devotion.

+ + + +

Ābrazȳrys dark!Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader Summary: Aemond goes to see is the king is truly dead and finds his wife instead.

+ + + +

dōna mandia Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader x Aegon Targaryen [third person] Summary: Her brothers convince her to play a game.

+ + + +

Hae iksā Aemond Targaryen x Plus Size Reader Summary: Aemond has been tasked to find himself a wife.

+ + + +

ilībio Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Summary: Aemond finds comfort in your cunt.

+ + + +

Zȳha lyks Aemond Targaryen x Plus Size Reader Summary: You find an ally with the second son of King Viserys.

She Walks in Starlight Aemond!Hades x OFC!Persephone Summary: Greek mythology HotD AU, some Aemond!Hades x OFC!Persephone slow burn.

+ + + +

The Dragon and the Wolf - WIP Aemond Targaryen x Stark!reader Summary: “...perhaps the fire of a Targaryen prince is what is needed to thaw out your heart.”

+ + + +

Ours never knew peace. Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader [first person] Summary: On the morning of the Great Tourney of Harrenhal, Lyanna Stark's granddam visits to give her an heirloom, a necklace with a sapphire stone...

There's not one thing that I would change. Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader [first person] Author's Note: This is what was implied, the smutty interlude that granddam could not read out loud to Lyanna.

+ + + +

Quietly, it slips through your fingers - Part 1 Aemond Targaryen x Rhaena Targaryen Summary: Rhaena confronts Aemond after dinner.

We gave our time to something undefined - Part 2 Aemond Targaryen x Rhaena Targaryen Summary: Aemond receives a late night visitor.

+ + + +

Only If For A Night Aemond Targaryen x Female! Reader, Aegon Targaryen x Female!Reader Summary: You find comfort in your husband's brother.

The Sapphire Prince Aemond Targaryen x OFC!Stark Summary:  A Targaryen prince falls for Cregan Stark’s sister and it sets to tear apart the Hightower’s devise.

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Call It Dreaming Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Summary: You have a delightful sex dream.

modern Aegon masterlist modern Aegon Targaryen x Female!Reader Warnings: Please be mindful of the warnings for each story! Author’s Note: Just a masterlist of my ever-growing modern Aegon Targaryen stories. Enjoy! 💜

Call It Dreaming Aegon Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Summary: You have a delightful sex dream.

+ + + +

Only If For A Night Aemond Targaryen x Female! Reader, Aegon Targaryen x Female!Reader Summary: You find comfort in your husband's brother.

dōna mandia Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader x Aegon Targaryen [third person] Summary: Her brothers convince her to play a game.

+ + + +

Fare Well Aegon Targaryen x Female!Reader Summary: You visit Aegon after another council meeting ends.

dōna riña Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen x Female!Reader Summary: You are enraptured by the prince and princess.

+ + + +

ānogar Daemon Targaryen x Wife!Reader Summary: Your husband helps comfort you.

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Aōhon iksan Daeron Targaryen x Female!Reader [third person] Summary: Daeron has come back from Oldtown to play his role in King’s Landing and marry one of the Four Storms.

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At last, when all of the world is asleep Ser Erryk Cargyll x Dornish!Reader Summary:  A Dornish princess is the siren call to break the vows of the Kingsguard.

Devotion Ser Erryk Cargyll x Targaryen!Reader Summary: You are a Targaryen princess with an infatuation on a certain White Cloak.

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A night of pleasure. Ser Gwayne Hightower x Female!Reader Summary: Ser Gwayne decides on you.

gifs by @mojogifs || arcie's navigation

[damn-stark]

Chapter 29 A dot Targ. A dot Vel. (REPRISE)

Chapter 29 of Moonlight

A/N- Its good! I’m so proud!

Warning- talks of pregnancy, ANGST, fluff? violence, blood, swearing, and death. 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- 515-520

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW YEARS BACK*

“There. We drop from the top of this cliff and fall right into the water. There’s no rocks below, there’s no way to get hurt. It’s a straightforward jump that’s not high whatsoever.”

Perhaps it was easier for you to say it, you have jumped from the cliff multiple times already, but to your brothers, Daeron, and Helaena? For them, the jump from the small cliff is like being high in the sky and jumping off your dragon's backs. The big body of water that glimmers like gems against the sun's reign is dull and grey in their eyes, and the target is small and an unattainable feat.

“You can walk back down,” Aemond interjects and directs at his little brother. “That’s what Jacaerys and Lucerys are doing. You don’t have to jump if you don’t want to.”

Daeron steps forward an inch to drop his brown eyes on the body of water below and gulp with fear.

“We can hold hands and jump together,” Helaena offers her little brother. “That’s how her…” Helaena pauses and points at you and then points her eyes at Aemond standing beside you. “…and Aemond do it.”

Said boy looks away out of embarrassment but doesn’t argue because it’s true. Every time you come to the top to jump down you do it hand in hand. Never have you done it without each other—yet maybe today might be the day considering Aemond might want to show off to Aegon.

“Yes,” Daeron says shakily and peers over his shoulder before he lifts his hand off his side and starts to reach out for his older sister.

However, it’s in his attempt to seek support that suddenly Aegon sprints forward. “Don’t be such a coward!” Aegon exclaims. “You’re a man with balls not a girl with a cunt!”

Before you can stop him, he shoves past Aemond and you to throw his hands out and shove Daeron off the cliff.

“Aegon!” You snap and run to the edge, whilst Helaena lets out a shocked gasp, and Aemond trails after you.

“Why would you do that?” Aemond remarks to his brother as you all watch Daeron screaming from the top of his lungs before he hits the water with a big splash!

“What’s wrong with you?!” You exclaim and snap your eyes to Aegon, but he just flashes you a cocky smile before he walks back a few paces and then runs forward to jump off the cliff himself and land beside his brother.

“Jacaerys!” You call out as you keep your eyes on where Daeron hit the water. “Check on Daeron!”

Your brother shoots you a thumbs up and walks in the water to do as you asked, and luckily he doesn’t need to assist. Daeron resurfaces with a big gasp of air as he wipes his face.

“Daeron! Are you okay?!” Helaena asks loudly, but she gets ignored as Daeron spins around and begins to splash Aegon out of spite. However, as expected, Aegon only finds his brother's reaction humorous.

“I told you not to invite him,” you quip at Aemond with a side glare. “Of course, he was going to do some shit like this.”

“I thought he’d behave,” Aemond mutters. “Besides, I didn’t invite him. He found out and invited himself.”

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Whatever, do you want to go next?” You ask and throw your hand out to offer it to him. And at first, he looks at your extended invitation and hesitates for a few seconds, so you think today will be the day he refuses your assistance, but alas, he thankfully doesn’t give in to his self-consciousness about being judged by Aegon and puts his hand over yours and make you smile at him.

“Ready?” You make sure to ask as you secure your hold around his hand.

Aemond nods and you proceed to walk back a couple of steps before you both run forward at the same time and jump off the cliff together hand in hand just like you always do. When you hit the water with a big splash and sink in the depths of the deep body of water, you let go of Aemond’s hand and open your eyes, catching him struggling to find his composure for a moment.

Only for a moment though because he’s quick to calm down and stop flailing his limbs around, letting his heartbeat come to a calm beat, and finding the moment to open his eyes and come face to face with you and your close-mouthed smile as you’re the center of each other's attention.

He tries to mirror your sweet gesture, but his smile is not as grand or excited as yours. There’s a warmth in his smile as sees you being so giddy, but he can not reflect that joy you carry because this, the depths of these waters aren’t his favorite; he feels like he’s playing with death by being down under for so long, but for you? This is basically your natural habitat. You were given the name the Siren of Driftmark for your singing ability, but what no one knows is that you’re basically a siren when you’re in the water.

You can hold your breath a long time and that’s something that was self-taught just to be able to dive down and collect stuff off the surface, and be able to mingle with the sea creatures that call these waters their home. Honestly, if it were up to you you would live here if you could, but alas you need air, so after you swim around him you resurface and take a breath of air without failing to grin brighter than the sun shining above.

“Come on, Helaena!” You encourage her whilst you see Aemond resurface and take a large gasp of air from the corner of your eye.

“Maybe I should go push her,” Aegon taunts, but you quickly snap around.

“Don’t you dare you ass!” You remark and push him, but alas he just laughs it off.

You respond to his maniacal laugh with a scoff as you turn away from him and look up again. However, Helaena is not in sight anymore.

“Helaena?!” You call out with worry.

Albeit only a few seconds later she shows up again as she runs toward the edge and jumps off with her fingers pinching her nose.

When she hits the water you swim toward her right away, but she resurfaces quickly and looks at you with relief to be alive. “I’m okay,” she reassures you as she breathes heavily.

You grin at her and nod. “Great. Would you do it again?”

She shakes her head and scoffs. “No.”

You giggle at her response and grab her hand to swim to shore together. Once your feet hit the sandy ground you find Daeron sitting on a rock with his eyes on the water before him.

“Are you okay?” You make sure to ask as you break away from Helaena and crouch down beside him.

“Yes,” he sighs and blinks as he turns his head to look at you. “It was not so bad. It just looked further when I was up there.”

You smile softly and nod in comprehension before you raise a quizzical brow. “Would you do it again?”

Daeron scoffs and nods softly. “Yes. It was fun.”

You beam at him and nudge him playfully. “See, I told you it was not so bad!”

Daeron smiles shyly and rolls his head down as he averts his gaze. “Yes I suppose you were right,” he echoes you before he meets your eyes with that sweet smile. “Just don’t let Aegon push me this time.”

You shake your head and pat his shoulder to reassure him. “No, never. I won’t let him come close. Swear.”

——

*NOW. TUMBLETON*

The stars in the night sky are dancing and mingling with the moon. The breeze is cool, colder than any that’s been felt yet, keeping the warm bodies in their tents to preserve heat and also sleep off the nighttime activities that have been transcending for the past week.

Overall the night is at last calm, giving the army of men a peaceful night. However, it’s in that silence and peace that they are easily able to feel the ground beneath them starting to tremble. And even if they can’t mistake it for anything absurd like all the men getting piss drunk, they don’t question the earth, yet.

With not a moment to spare, more and more men start to wake up when they hear the sound of faint rumbling echoing in the distance. They try to play it off as some distant storm coming their way, but that rumbling grows louder, going from rumbling to it sounding like a thousand storms of thunder clapping on the ground, making the ground shake even more violently and once and for all luring them out of their tents.

Albeit it’s a good and bad thing that they did. It’s a bad thing because they’re met face to face with death, but it's also a good thing because they can alert everyone of death rolling in on them in the shape of two large dragons that dive from the sky unleashing waves of fire upon their tent grounds that engulf the once darkened campsite in a raging firelight and drown out the soft and bright light of the moon and the stars.

From there on it's impossible for anyone to mind their business and ignore the sound of chaos outside, the firestorm falling upon them, and the wave upon wave of screaming men all charging toward them. Now they have to get up and dress for a fight, or get up and walk out whilst they’re dressing to grab any weapon they can or grab their horses to have some fighting chance.

And some men do have a fighting chance—Those men far from the initial line of fire can quickly dress and grab what they need to meet their attackers. However, those men caught under the dragon's shadows are nothing more than ash and bones, especially as you and Astraea make a sharp turn and fly low, descending a fiery death as you fly directly toward the main tents because that’s where you’ll find him; Daeron Targaryen.

Many would call you a Kinslayer for directly killing your uncle Daeron. You’ll forever be marked as one in the history books. All your great achievements will be watered down to that single fact especially because you’re a woman, but here’s the thing, you don’t give a single fuck what people in a hundred years think of you. All you care about is killing one man at this very moment, and you notice him just as you’re flying directly toward the main tents.

Daeron is standing outside, half-dressed with his silver-blond hair standing out like a sore thumb against the wild flames feeding on the bodies, the tents, and the ground around him. He stands there with his dark eyes on you and your dragon charging directly at him. He’s there and as his figure reflects in your eyes all the deaths you’ve endured; Lucerys, your grandmother, Jacaerys, Viserys, Joffrey, and even Aemond—Even his own brother's death flashes behind your eyes as if he was the sole cause of their deaths. As if he himself killed them with his bare hands.

And in some messed up way your mind does see him as the sole cause of their deaths because there’s no one else to blame; Aegon is dead or lost somewhere, you can never truly blame Aemond, and anyone else can never compare to the man standing before you. The Hightower and Targaryen boy whose family took away everything good. It’s because of his family that all of your own family is gone, and all that you knew is dead along with them. So yes, you blame him. You want him dead. You want to see his flesh melt off his bones. You want to give his mother his head so she may feel your mother's pain and the pain you have endured as well.

It would satisfy your thirst for revenge just enough to get off the field and watch from a distance to not make Cregan, Ser Cane, and Addam worry. Daeron is all your anger wants. He’s all your desire locks on. Daeron.

Daeron.

Daeron.

“Dracarys,” you growl as you lean forward and grab onto the handle with a vice grip.

Astraea clicks from the back of her throat as she builds up fire before she blasts her burning flames on Daeron and the path behind him.

Nevertheless, just before the flames can hit Daeron and the ground, the boy jumps out of Astraea’s aim.

You immediately snap your head around as Astraea flies forward, and soon thereafter catch him pushing himself to his feet to be able to run away and hide in between the crowd all running from the dragon's wrath.

“RAHHH!” You cry out enraged and hit the handles of your saddle. “<Turn Astraea!>” You command in Valyrian as you nudge the handles to the side. And without needing to be told twice Astraea makes a quick turn, whipping her tail and thrashing men to the side whilst also destroying tents and clutter in the way of her swinging tail.

When you’re facing the way Daeron ran you have Astraea unleash more waves of fire, catching irrelevant men in the way of your wrath until your uncle is all that you see ahead of you now that he’s not able to hide in the sea of bodies.

Yet before you can give your command to Astraea with your words or through your connection, you unhook all your restraints and push yourself off your seat to swing your leg over the saddle and reach the ladder hanging off Astraea’s side. After that, without needing to be told, your dragon comes to a stop and hovers over the ground of burning bodies to let you descend the ladders and land on an empty spot on the ground.

Daeron notices what you're doing and doesn’t stop running. You look at his path ahead and assume he’s attempting to reach Tessarion, so, considering Astraea knows your deepest desire, she swoops around him, unleashing a line of fire around him to cut him off in his attempts and bring him to an immediate stop before the wall of fire.

You then proceed to watch him, but don’t call out his name. You narrow your glare and start trudging toward him with heavy footsteps and Blackfyre in one hand. And perhaps that sight of you is much more terrifying than being called out because silence is much more threatening. It's tense and deadly because he knows, he feels it on the hairs on the back of his neck and the goosebumps crawling down his spine that you’re coming.

It’s only once Daeron hears you come to a stop that he turns around while he fixes his grip on his own sword, and confronts your piercing glare spewing hatred and a ferocity that he has only heard of until now.

Yet it doesn’t scare him. He doesn’t tense or try to find a way to escape, he stands there with you in a small clear spot surrounded by dead bodies and a wall of fire that stays alive by feeding off some of those dead bodies.

“Goodsister,” he greets warmly, but you don’t even attempt to return a feigned friendly greeting. You breathe out heavily through your nose and tighten your grip around your Valyrian sword.

“It’s been a while. You’re glowing,” he finds some way to be funny, but again, you don’t mirror him. You do respond though.

“I’m not your Goodsister anymore. Aemond is dead.”

Daeron blinks and nods stiffly. “Yes, I know. My condolences, you were married and you were best friends from what I remember. He really loved you.”

You blink repeatedly as one of your heartstrings is pulled at by his words.

“Don’t patronize me,” you hiss and throw your hand out to point the tip of your sword at him. “Fight.”

Daeron swallows back nervously and remains still for a second before he shakes his head. “No, I won’t fight you. You’re my niece and you’re with child. It would not be fair.”

“You have until my Astraea reaches us to swing your sword,” you ignore him and then lift your hand to point your sword at Astraea circling around to return this way. “If you refuse she will unfurl her fire and catch us both with her flames, but,” you suck your teeth and begin to smile a menacing smile. “Only one of us can withstand the fire's fury. You…will burn and Tessarion won’t be able to reach you in time to save you. So choose. You can fight me and have a chance to survive, or die a fiery death.”

Daeron glances at Astraea getting closer and then glances at the army of men you came with before he slowly lets his eyes fall back on you. “And if I fight you and survive, how long until your army of men comes after me?”

You scoff. “Not long. Lord Stark is lurking nearby, and my sworn protector is also close, so,” you pause and hum as you come up with an estimate. “About ten to fifteen minutes, but that’s enough to get close to your dragon. That is if my dragon doesn’t eat you first.”

He hums and nods in comprehension before he chooses to glance at his options again and debate whether he really wants to fight you at a disadvantage, or give up and die.

It is a hard choice given he doesn’t hate you or hold any ill will. It was always your brothers that he was taught to dislike, but his mother never really taught them to hate you. She did bad mouth you and was rude, but she never told her kids to hate you, so he can’t find it in himself to flip a switch and all of a sudden want to kill you.

Yet…he also doesn’t want to die. He can’t die when his men and his own mother need him. He owes it to the siblings he’s lost and their cause to fight. So with a deep breath, he tightens his grip, fixes his stance, and chooses.

“Alright if it’s what you want.” He mutters, making that menacing smile turn to a grin, and without saying a word, causing Astraea to drift and now circle you and him rather than setting you both on fire.

“It’s what I want and it’s what I need,” you grumble and fix your stance before you slowly let out a deep breath.

~~~~~

There’s a breath you take in your lungs, but rather than being filled with relief as the breath of air runs through your lungs something grainy travels into your lungs before you’re overcome with a pressure over your chest.

A darkness also accompanies the pressure as you open your eyes, and all you can do is panic rather than staying calm and thinking about what’s going on or where you are.

You throw your hands out and fling them around to try and remove the heavy grain that’s burying you without thinking about taking steady breaths. You pant, taking in more and more grains of sand bit by bit until a beam of light breaks through the darkness, bringing hope to the desperation and letting you break through the barrier that was on top of you to let you see an endless blue sky.

Yet even as you face the horizon and the freedom it brings, the panic still unsettles your heart as you face an endless sea that you weren’t near mere moments ago and violently cough out the grains that you now know are sand.

It’s all so sudden, the sand, the sea, the blue sky, and the shining sun. You were just…

You don’t remember…

You can’t remember where you were. You don’t—you can’t.

“Hey, hey, breathe. Breathe,” a familiar voice tries to instruct you before their hand falls on your shoulder, but you just bolt to your feet and spin around to swat their hand away in your panic.

Only, it’s when you face the person comforting you that you recognize…your father.

“Father?” You ask breathlessly and step back out of fear.

“Yes.” He nods. “Yes. It’s me. You’re okay. It’s me.”

You shake your head and close your eyes to try and wake up back where you had been, but when you rip your eyes open you still see him and the beach standing behind you.

“No, no,” you keep denying what you see even if you don’t know what’s going on. You just know seeing your father isn’t right. “You’re not supposed to be here,” you say between pants and step back again whilst you reach for your belly for some support. Albeit your hands don’t come in contact with your swollen belly, your hands hit your torso, but there's no bump. It’s gone. The twins…

“What,” you gasp and feel your heart racing in your chest as your panic heightens, making everything around you spin, and making your head hurt. “Where are my children?!”

“Breathe!” Your father yells out over your panic and grabs your arms to yank you toward him so he can repeat himself louder. “Breathe.”

You look him in the eyes and don’t see a stranger or any trick or sorcery. You see the same brown eyes you saw when he was still alive. You see him, the man you loved, and the man you lost. He’s there in front of you. It’s no trick, no dream, no vision. It’s him.

“Father?” You question and blink repeatedly before you stare at him for a lingering minute and then avert your gaze to think back to what you remember last and what brought you to this moment. And even if you assume that you won’t remember, you do. You remember what led you to where you currently are.

“Father,” you breathe out and lift your hands to grab his arms and huff out with relief. “Father!”

“My girl,” he coos and finally offers you a smile as you’re calm now. “Hello.”

You offer him a smile but don’t redirect his greeting. Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “My twins?” You ask and he sighs before he offers you an assuring smile.

“They’re fine. You on the other hand…” he trails off and his face falls with pity and heavy concern. “My girl, do you know where you are?”

You blink repeatedly and come up with a quick idea. “I think so. I think,” you pant out and face him with worry. “Maybe I’m dead?”

He breathes out and neither nods nor shakes his head, he parts his lips and gives you a response instead. “Not yet, but you can choose to.”

“Choose to?” You echo and shake your head before probing in more confusion. “I don’t understand. I thought I died.”

He shakes his head. “Not yet, that’s why you can choose. You can pass on and stay here, or you can leave this place. You can also choose to live. That’s the difference between me and you. You just have to know what you want.”

You slowly let go of him and think over his words as if it were some great mystery when what he said and what it meant is clear as day.

“Do you know what you want?” He asks and looks deep into your averted gaze.

“I,” you mouth and breathe out before you drag your eyes up and face him with a sense of confusion on how to answer his question because why would you want to go back?

You did have some great plans you went over with Cregan, but as you’re here, in this great limbo with your father on the beach without any pain or worry, why would you want to leave to suffer?

You don’t want to cry anymore. You don’t want to live through more loss. You don’t want to suffer any more pain. You want to stay here where you can be by the sea, breathing in the salty air, and being with a man you love.

“I don’t know,” you mutter under your breath and look away shamefully as if waiting for him to scold you and try to argue with you. Albeit he just pats your arms before he strokes your cheeks.

“That’s okay, take your time.”

You meet his dark eyes and offer him a thankful smile before you once again look around at where you are.

Your father follows your line of gaze and takes a step away from you to finally probe. “Why did you choose the beach?”

You turn around to face the endless blue sea and answer without having to think about it. “Because it’s where I was always the happiest. It’s where I would come with my brothers and the others. It’s where you taught me to fish and how to read the stars. It’s where you taught me to sing sailor shanties.” You share and giggle breathlessly before you look over at him and finally wonder why he’s here when he should be long gone with the man he never stopped loving.

“Why are you here, father? Shouldn’t you be with your partner Joffrey?” You ask, making him scoff and look out at the peaceful waters that you stand in front of.

“No,” he then answers quietly. “I’m where I’m meant to be.”

You meet his gaze and try to dig deep for the real answer, but you can’t find it in his eyes or find any clue in between his body language, so you accept his answer as it is.

“You know I’m proud of you, right?” He interjects and steals all your divided attention. “You…have come so far,” he muses. “My little siren.” He laughs breathlessly and steps forward to once again grab your face. “You have grown into such a strong and beautiful young woman.”

“Father,” you mouth as your eyes start to fill with tears, making the sight of him turn blurry.

“You are a good mother, and you are a good daughter. Despite all your doubts, you are a good daughter, your mother knows that. I know that. You are just young, you will make mistakes, but the important thing is you admit them and learn from them, but never shame yourself because of those mistakes.”

More tears overfill your eyes, causing them to break out and roll down your cheeks.

“I love you, my girl,” he continues in the same soft and affectionate way as if he didn’t have all the time in the world despite being dead—“you are my greatest achievement. You are what I’m most proud of and I’m,” his voice breaks and tears fill his own eyes. “…I’m sorry for leaving. I hurt you and I’m sorry. You needed me and I left. I tried to come back. I was on my way back to see you, but I…” he trails off and his tears roll down. “…that’s when I died. You believe me right?”

You lift your hands to grab his jaw and offer him a wobbly smile before you nod. “I do. I believe you because I saw it in a vision from a good witch.”

He scoffs in amusement and you giggle before you slide your hands down and proceed to throw them around his neck to pull him in for an embrace.

“I forgive you, Father,” you assure him and unknowingly offer him everything he had been waiting for.

You finally give him the forgiveness that he was waiting for to move on to peace.

“I love you, and I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” his voice cracks as he hugs you back with a tight force. “And I love you more than anything.”

You weep on his shoulder and grip onto him as if your life depended on it. “Father,” you cry and unleash a very shaky and heavy breath that feels like you shed off a weight you did not know you had been carrying on your shoulders.

“It’s okay to be selfish,” he whispers. “No one will shame you for it if it’s what you want.”

You pull away slowly and wipe your tears before you look him in the eyes and continue with a quiver as you talk through your pain. “I don’t want—”

Albeit before you can finish, there’s other people that catch your eye. There in the distance, along the shoreline are your three brothers; Joffrey, Lucerys, and Jacaerys. They’re here too and the sight of them makes you forget the pain you were about to share and the choice you didn’t know if you wanted to make. You were going to debate it, but now as you see your brothers all you can think about is going to them.

“Go,” your father tells you as he sees what you focus on. “They’re waiting for you.”

You quickly look back at him and query. “Are you sure?”

He holds your gaze and stares at you for a lingering second before he nods softly. “I’m sure. Go.”

You offer him one last giddy smile before you peel away and face your beloved brothers. “Joffrey! Luke! Jace!”

All three boys turn to look at you and you throw your hand in the air and wave.

Lucerys is the first to respond with a sweet smile before Joffrey waves you over.

You then don’t debate your choice or look back at your father, you move your foot forward and go to them.

~~~~~~~

*NOW*

A breath unfurls from your lungs and escapes past your lips. Your once deadly grip on your blade's handle loosens, and your feet shift into a fighting stance as you lock eyes with Daeron.

“I am sorry—”

“Shut up,” you grimace and lunge forward to swing Blackfyre at his neck, but Daeron is quick to block your attempts and then push you back, causing you to grunt and then proceed to thrust violently.

However, Daeron then throws his body to the side to avert your action, but you don’t let him collect himself and come up with some alternative. You overwhelm him by swinging your blade again.

Albeit Daeron meets your blade with his once more, causing a sharp clinging to ring out against the sound of men fighting and dying, dragon wings clapping as they flap in the sky, fire blasting out of their mouths, and crying as you hear them fighting.

Nevertheless, it’s while your swords are pressed against each other, and your eyes are locked on one another that you slip one hand off your blade handle and curl your fist to throw him an uppercut that makes him stumble back. After that, you probably would have followed with a kick, but with your belly weighing you down you can’t, so instead, you opt to rush him and throw your blade down. Albeit Daeron follows up by throwing his own blade up to meet your actions before he manages to drop one hand to grab your wrist and try to shove you back.

“I don’t want to fight you. It’s not fair!” He cries out to try and make you listen. “And above all else, you’re my niece. We grew up together, doesn’t that count for something?”

Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes narrow to a nasty glare. “Aegon grew up with my mother and he still took her throne. He was a man capable of thinking for himself. He could’ve fought back, but he didn’t, he still took my mother's throne,” you growl and use your strength to try and push him off you, but his grip only tightens and he pushes back against you, causing you to drop one hand to grab onto his forearm and try to rip his grip off your wrist that holds you captive.

“And you still chose to fight against her. She would have given you a spot beside her!” You cry in anger. “But you still betrayed her and for what? A mother that hardly cares about you? Brothers that forget you exist?” You scoff and shoot him a smirk to try and piss him off, but he’s more emotionally mature. Daeron slides his hand off your wrist instead and then presses it against your chest to shove you back with a strength that’s enough to make you lose contact and stumble back.

You try to quickly find your balance to counter, but Daeron then kicks dirt and ash in your eyes, causing a roaring cry to rip out from your throat and break through all the barriers of noise that surround you, while your sword falls from your hands as you fling yourself around and fall to your knees to try and wipe the trash out of your stinging eyes.

“What the hell?!” You hiss and groan as you frantically rub your eyes.

“Is that what you want?!” Daeron remarks and steps forward, but you manage to crawl away and throw your hand back.

“Don’t you dare,” you snap back and go back to rubbing your eyes.

“You really think this is what Aemond would want?” He throws out as if he knew the man Aemond grew up to be. He only knew a child, he didn’t know the man he was.

“Don’t you dare,” you hiss and drop your hand to blink hard and repeatedly, whilst also feeling your eyes overflow with tears that try to wash out all the trash in your eyes—“don’t talk about him like you know him,” you remark and finally manage to see the ground. It’s cloudy, but you can still see it nonetheless so you continue to crawl away in search of a weapon.

“You didn’t know him,” your voice cracks. “Your mother didn’t know him. Aegon didn’t. Only I did…he was mine and he’s gone now because of your family. Because of you! So shut up.”

“What happened to you?” He asks boldly as he stays where he is and watches you aimlessly move away from him and your sword—“You used to be kind-hearted. You were good and now…”

“I’m everything you and your family made me,” you finish his sentence and feel your breath catch in your throat when you see an intact bow and scattered arrows just beneath a burnt corpse.

“No, no I don’t believe that,” he says as he doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re starting to pull at something.

“The girl I knew is still there. You were the Realm’s Golden Girl,” he goes on rambling. “I don’t believe you could have fallen this far.”

You manage to get the bow out so you test your luck with one arrow so as to not risk raising suspicion by reaching for the other arrow scattered further away from you.

“Believe what you want. I do not care,” you grumble and align your arrow with the bow before you throw yourself around and garner his attention.

Daeron sees your intentions and tries to quickly react, but without thinking too much about your aim because of your blurry eyesight, you let the arrow go, and in that flash of a second after the arrow flies through the air, you manage to pierce Daeron through his eye.

And as soon the arrow hits his face you gasp with surprise while he freezes in place as he’s overcome with disbelief over what just happened.

Yet it’s while he’s caught in his paralyzing shock that you drop the bow and hastily push yourself to your feet to be able to run toward Blackfyre abandoned on the ground, giving Daeron the push to snap out of his stupor and finally realize he’s in agonizing pain and also targeted for another attack.

Although the arrow pierced through his eye makes him slow, he’s still dealing with his paralyzing shock which doesn’t let him be as fast as he wants to be. Thus he does what he can and throws his hand out as you stride toward him with your hands reeling your sword back, and he stammers, “Wait—”

However, you don’t let him finish his sentence before you swing your sword with every ounce of strength you can muster, managing to cut through his neck and slice his head clean off his shoulders with a loud cry of determination.

When the head hits the ground a loud and solemn cry pierces through the sky in the distance, but you ignore it and instead let out a heavy breath and follow your body forward toward the wall of fire as you stumble due to the strength you used, letting the flames consume you as you stand there in your disbelief.

Killing Daeron didn’t affect you. You don’t feel a twinge of grief or remorse. You’re just surprised it happened. You killed Daeron.

What does that make you feel? Deep inside.

You blink as hard as you can to keep trying to remove the dirt still stuck in your eyes and think about it.

There’s no grief. No guilt or remorse. Do you feel relieved?

No.

Do you feel proud?

You tilt your head up toward the sky and blink repeatedly a few more times to finally rid your eyes of all the gunk Daeron kicked at you to blind you and finally see clearly, and it’s like a breath of fresh air.

You make out the screen of smoke that pollutes the air and completely covers the starry sky and its illuminating light. You see the thick ash that falls down to the earth like snowflakes fall, and in between all that ugly pollution you find your answer to your question, and it’s a no. You don’t feel proud, you only feel a hunger for more. You still feel…unsatisfied. Like you’re missing something.

How funny, killing Daeron was supposed to satisfy your thirst for blood for a while, just until you reached Kings Landing and sought revenge for what the Smallfolk did to your mother and the dragons. Albeit not an ounce of that thirst is satisfied.

So it’s true what they say? Killing out of revenge won’t satisfy someone?

Well…it has to. It has to mean something!

Thus you bring your head down and walk out of the fire with your chainmail burning red because of the heat, and your fur cloak burning behind you as you walk over and collect Daeron’s head off the ground.

“Goodbye uncle, it was nice knowing you,” you mutter to his bleeding head without meaning a word as you lift it to look at him in his lifeless brown eye. “They’ll remember you because of me,” you add before you drop your arm and roll your shoulders back as you let out a deep breath. You then walk away from the small empty space and walk over dead body after dead body littered on the battlefield ground and reach a boulder that stands at the center of all the chaos.

Before you climb on the large boulder though, you look down at the head you carry and force pride upon yourself. You think about the wave of encouragement and hope all your men will feel upon seeing Daeron’s head, and that fills you with excitement and more pride that you couldn’t muster before.

And it’s only once those emotions now rush through you that you start to climb the boulder without caring if you’re dragging Blackfyre against the stone, or that blood is staining your hand. You climb the boulder and reach the top, seeing multiple banners spread throughout the thick of the battlefield all waving the same red three-headed dragon against a black background, and you think of her, your mother, and your Queen.

She won’t have to worry about Daeron or his dragon anymore. It’s not the guarantee she needs to end this war, but it’s one less piece of the board. You can win and she will ascend her throne.

You believe it with your whole heart and it’s that belief that overflows your running heart with enthusiasm and malice.

“The Daring is dead!” You make your voice boom, catching the attention of your men and your enemies before you throw your hand up to show off the head like a trophy, causing an eruption of cheers and gasps alike.

“BLOOD DRAGON!”

“BLOOD DRAGON!” The cheers of your alias scatter around the field, causing goosebumps to spread over your skin and a smile to spread on your lips.

“FOR—” you cut yourself off as a large shadow casts over you, making you roll your head back and catch Daeron’s cobalt dragon, Tessarion torpedoing toward you with its mouth open.

Yet even if you do see the potential danger, you don’t turn to run or shield yourself because you know and feel Astraea behind you, flying directly toward the threat to protect you. Besides, Tessarion can’t burn you with her flames like she thinks she can, so you welcome the rain of fire with a wicked smile

Even then as the fire barrels over you, you basically just get scraped because Astraea rams into Tessarion and shoves her to the ground with a loud boom that shakes the ground and makes a crater.

“<Good girl,>” you praise your dragon even if she can’t hear you before you rip your attention away and search for Addam and Seasmoke.

Luckily, or maybe not so luckily you spot him in the distance caught in a dance between Seasmoke and Vermithor.

You look out for Silverwing, but you don’t catch her anywhere, it’s just Vermithor against Seasmoke, but is that really relieving?

Not in the slightest because Vermithor is the largest dragon. He has more battle experience than Seasmoke, and much more power in his fire and whatever hits he throws. He could find a way to kill Seasmoke if his rider is smart enough.

All while Tessarion is now riderless and smaller. Without a rider, she’s aimless in this fight, so you need to help Addam and Seasmoke first. You can then worry about Silverwing and Tessarion if they turn out to be a threat.

Therefore, you descend the boulder with haste and turn in your dragon's direction, seeing at that moment as if having read your thoughts, Astraea leaving Tessarion stranded and struggling on the ground so you can meet each other halfway, and hastily climb her after sheathing your sword.

“<Let's go help Seasmoke and Addam,>” you tell her while you shove Daeron’s decapitated head into a saddlebag. Albeit was there really a need to tell her what you wanted? Astraea had already met up with you without needing to be told, and she knows what it is you want and your desperate desire because she feels it too.

~~~~~~~

“Jace! Luke! Joffrey!”

There’s nothing that can stop you. No obstacle, no force, or divine intervention. There’s only them at the other end of that sandy beach as if they’re encouraging you to the big finish line. They call out your name with excitement and big smiles, only further exciting your already racing heart, and fueling your encouragement already running at high speed in order to let you reach them out of fear that they are a figment of your imagination.

“Jace!” You call out again with tears running off your face and joining the windy breeze. “Joffrey! Luke!” You say with a wobbly grin illuminating your once gloomy face.

Once you finally break through all the barriers that stood in between and cross that finish line to reach them, they can’t hold their excitement either, they run to you as you run to them and throw your arms around each other while you all laugh a quivering laugh and grin as you’re overfilled with joy.

“You're all here,” you say with a whimper and cling onto them tighter. “I missed you.”

“We missed you too,” Joffrey offers you some consolation before you all pull away, letting you crouch to grab your youngest brother's shoulders and look at him with pity.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to save you, Joffrey.”

Said boy offers you a half smile and shrugs. “It's okay, I had a great death.”

You frown and he sighs before he closes the gap to wrap you in an embrace that just involves him and you.

“Don’t forget me,” he says with a quiver. “And tell Mother I am sorry. If you decide to return that is. Will you?” He doesn’t let you give him a response to his previous comments before he bombards you with a heavy question and pulls away to look at you with an impatient stare.

“Joffrey lay off her,” Jacaerys warns your brother, making you stand up and slowly drag your eyes up to face him. “Don't start crying on us. We know,” he breathes out. “We know all the guilt, the shame, and the longing, so just don’t repeat it.”

You laugh softly and nod before snapping your attention to Lucerys. “Luke,” you greet him softly, making him offer you a sweet and childlike smile.

“I missed you,” he tells you and steals a small breath from your chest.

“I,” you breathe out. “I missed you too.”

Lucerys smile widens before he walks over to wrap his arm around your waist, letting you wrap your arm around his shoulders.

“Are you here to stay?” Lucerys now presses, causing you to sigh and drop your head whilst you all begin walking forward along the shoreline, unbeknownst to the fact that your father is no longer behind you or waiting for that matter. He’s passed because it was your forgiveness that he was waiting for and now that he has it he can know peace. He would help you find the answer to what you want, but that’s something he can’t assist with, that’s an answer only you can come up with.

“I don’t…know…” you trail off and lift your head to look at the blue sky with wonder and confusion.

“I…am so sick and tired of just feeling agony, of losing people, and losing parts of me in this war that staying is more tempting than I care to admit. But on the other hand, I have people depending on me to continue fighting. So,” you pause and swallow back the lump that forms in your throat. “I don’t know.”

Jacaerys hums and you stop walking, causing your arm to slip off Lucerys shoulder whilst his arm also slides off you as you linger behind with your head down and your eyes full of tears.

“Would you,” you pause and hear them come to a stop and shift around against the sand to look at you and wait for the rest of what you were building up to say.

“…would you be mad if I chose to stay here with you all?” You ask and draw in a shaky breath before you slowly face them with tears running down your cheeks. “Would it be selfish of me to trade my pain for an eternity of happiness here on this beach with you? Because I want to…I want to stay. I want to be happy and laugh again. I want to be with you, I don’t want to go back and live on without you!”

Jacaerys and Lucerys share the same pitiful look before Jacaerys steps forward to speak his peace. “I would drag you back because you have the chance we didn’t, but,” he sighs deeply. “If staying is what you want. If that’s what will make you happy, who am I to keep you from happiness? Besides, life here would be a little less boring with you.” He says and offers you that ever-so-heartwarming smile that brightens this moment just a little more.

“I,” you part your lips as your heart yearns to be with them, but before you can give them your answer, water splashes over the side of your face and that of your brothers. When you look over at where the water came from you see that Joffrey was the mischievous culprit.

“Of course it was you,” you remark lightheartedly and push aside the choice you were going to make to run over and grab Joffrey and throw him over your shoulder.

“No, let me go!” He exclaims between laughs, but you run deeper in the water to drop him and make a big splash that makes him burst out laughing even harder.

Lucerys and Jacaerys then join in on the harmless fun in the water as they see you and Joffrey getting carried away; choosing to splash water on each other and or shove each other in the water like you would on those hot summer days when you were young.

For a while you get everything you just said you wanted; you laugh like you haven’t laughed in months. You flash a beaming smile and forget all about the chaos that is your life outside of this limbo. For a moment as you’re having fun with your brothers in the water, it's almost like your heart is set on a decision.

You want to stay. You want to live in this happiness under the sun. You don’t want to wake up under a cloudy sky without your brothers. You want to stay with them for as long as you can. And almost as if to solidify your choice, there in the distance shining in your eyes like the bright sun is your beloved, your Aemond…

~~~~~

*NOW*

Beneath your most desperate desire lies another need. A wicked need just fueled by anger and hate.

A rather unnecessary need to see through because your fight is outside the walls and all the fighting men that are inside Tumbleton’s walls are coming out to join the fight, or are already affected by the chaos the surprise attack caused.

Yet as unnecessary as the need is, the need is still a rather burning desire to rain fire on the entire town as if they’re single-handedly at fault for being taken and sacked by the enemy.

The need makes you itch to follow through with it. The need screams at your mind to tell Astraea to make a sharp turn and fly toward the town. You feel a pressure building within to unleash all that you have balled up inside you, but…you have more control than easily giving into that specific desire, besides, Addam needs your help and that takes priority. So, you continue to fly toward him at a quick speed while also thanking the fact that this fight is taking place at night because Astraea can take cover through the shadows that the wildfires and scattered firelight leave untouched.

Albeit you also grow to resent that night because it makes it harder to see Vermithor and Seasmoke fighting. You can see them tangled on the ground, and you can hear them snapping at each other while they also growl and cry, but this cover makes it difficult to make out their figures so you can know where to hit. And it’s not like you can unleash a blast of fire because Addam could get hurt in the process. You have to rely on Astraea, and you have to strain your eyes.

Much to your conflicted mind though, when you get close enough, you see that Vermithor’s saddle is empty. Ser Hugh is not strapped on his dragon, and you can’t say that he’s crushed, burnt, or eaten because there would be evidence on the saddle or lack thereof, but the saddle is intact. So does that mean…Vermithor is fighting out of his own will? He has to be. And is Ser Hugh dead?

That’s a question you don’t ponder or care to learn the answer to now. Right now you scan the scene as much as the visibility allows you to, finding an opening on Vermithor’s belly.

An attack there would give Seasmoke wiggle room to get out of the entanglement.

Hence you nudge the handles on your saddle down to try and guide Astraea in that direction, but it seems she was already thinking the same thing because she tucks her wings and completely head butts Vermithor’s belly, bringing both male dragons to an abrupt stop, and then forcing Vermithor to unlock his jaw off Seasmoke’s wing to snap back and try to throw his jaw down on Astraea.

Alas, your dragon bites down hard and swings her head to the side, creating a deep gash on Vermithor’s belly that makes him bellow out in pain.

Seasmoke then sees his opening and slips away from Vermithor. You look over and see him try to rise, but his wing is too battered to use, he can’t pick himself off the ground.

“Addam!” You call out as loud as you can so your voice can be carried out. “Addam!”

Said man catches wind of his name traveling through the breeze and his attention falls on you.

“Jump off the dragon!” You try to tell him as Astraea and Vermithor are fighting. “Jump off!” You shout at the top of your lungs as you also try to motion with your hands so you can get your point across and so he can continue to have some fighting chance.

“Addam! Jump! Please!” You continue to plead before you throw your hand out to offer to him and let him know that you will help him. You can get out of this together.

Alas, Addam holds your pleading gaze and shakes his head as he understands well what it is you’re trying to say. He doesn’t try to yell out his response, he just hits his chest with his fist the same way you tap each other's chest with your own fists.

“No,” you mewl and clutch onto your handles to try and nudge Astraea toward Addam and Seasmoke. However, just as Astraea pulls her jaw away from Vermithor’s belly, from the cover of night falls a blast of fire that unfurls over Astraea and you.

It’s a good thing that you don’t burn or else this is where you would have met your end. The only thing that happened was that you were caught by surprise so much that your heart leaped. Besides that and the rest of your fur cloak burning off, Astraea and you come out unscathed.

Actually, your dragon just comes out more enraged, so as Seasmoke is aiming for her neck, she snaps around as the fire is dying out to be able to whip her tail and throw him off his intended path.

“Addam!” You yell out without paying any mind to what happened or Tessarion’s possible retaliation. You turn your body against your saddle to search and find Vermithor shifting his focus back to Seasmoke.

“Addam!” You call out desperately, hurting every possible muscle aligning your throat to get your voice across, and actually manage to catch his attention.

Addam snaps his head to the side and his eyes fall on you. You can see his dark brown eyes through the cloud of debris that floats in the air and the scattered light that finds room in between you both, and you have the need to continue trying to get your plea across, but you know he’ll just ignore you, so you just narrow your gaze to a more determined look and offer him a small smile.

Addam returns your smile and holds your gaze for a second longer before Astraea throws herself in the air to tackle Tessarion while she tries to regain her balance, and shoves her to the ground.

You trust Astraea to fight so you turn your head to focus back on Addam, catching at that moment Seasmoke biting down on Vermithor’s neck with so much force that the bronze dragon begins to gush out blood.

Your eyes brighten with glee, and your first thought is to search for Addam.

Nevertheless, as you’re searching, Vermithor then counters the attack and clamps his jaw hard on Seasmoke’s throat before, with one forceful yank, rips Seasmoke’s head clean off his neck.

Your eyes peel back with shock and horror at that moment, but you still try to call out for Addam. You still continue to search for him, but you can’t find him. Once again your attention is pulled away, and this time it’s by Tessarion tangling her body around Astraea and rolling her on the ground.

You quickly bend over your saddle to avoid being thrashed around in the midst of the dragons rolling on the ground, whilst Astraea lets out a sharp cry as she swings her claws on any part of Tessarion she can reach, causing the cobalt dragon to stop in her actions and unleash Astraea from her hold.

Once your dragon has her feet on the ground you sit up and notice Tessarion struggling to get up so you look away and frantically search for Addam.

This time though you don’t find his face. You don’t meet his eyes. You see the headless corpse of Seasmoke bleeding out on the ground but no sign of Addam trying to find a way out, so you panic. You shouldn’t, there’s a high chance he was unharmed, but you still panic, so without caring about Vermithor dragging himself away, or Tessarion and Astraea still at each other's throats, you unbuckle yourself and hastily unmount your dragon to run through the blood-soaked ground.

You trip and fall on your hands and knees, staining your skin and your chainmail gown of dragon blood that lets out steam due to how hot it is, but you don’t stop to linger, your mind and your heart don’t let you stop. You run and run as fast as your body can let you, feeling your chest rise and fall quickly with heavy pants, and feeling your heartbeat quicken bit by bit as you approach Seasmoke’s saddle and fail to see Addam walk out unscathed or minimally injured.

“Addam!” You call out in hopes he’ll assure you he’s fine as he hears you approach him, but you don’t receive a response. Besides, all the calamity already surrounding you, his voice doesn’t rise over the clamoring.

Which is why you go again. “Addam?!”

You wait for a response but once again you fail to get one, so instead of quickening your pace, you slow down and focus on your pounding heart rather than ignoring the panic that makes it race with so much haste.

“Addam?” You call out weakly and press your hand on Seasmoke’s corpse to run it over his scales as you approach the saddle.

You don’t want to expect the worst due to Addam’s lack of response but you have already lost so much. You’ve been the butt of death's joke so many times that you prepare yourself mentally to face tragedy.

“Addam?” You whisper as you start to round the corner and stay connected to Seasmoke to try and spare your poor heart from what may await you.

Yet you can’t avoid the truth forever because if Addam is injured he might need your help. So with a few heavy breaths, you slip your hand off Seasmoke and finish turning that corner to finally come face to face with the saddle, and see Addam lying on the ground. You don’t pay attention if his back is moving with every breath, your eyes go wide as you gasp and a heightened sense of panic shoots through your heart, causing you to break into a sprint.

“Addam!” You call out with that sense of panic laced in your voice.

When you reach him you continue to not listen for his breaths. You don’t take note of his neck bent at an odd angle, you just see blood leaking out from a gash on his head and work to unstrap him from his saddle.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “You’ll be okay. I will put pressure on the wound. I know how to do that. I can do it until we reach a healer.”

Once again the response is silence, but you don’t care, you manage to unhook him from his saddle and hook your arms under his arms to drag him back onto the stable ground.

“You did great, you know that?” You continue as you use all your strength to drag his heavy body back with you. “I killed Daeron, I took his head and I want to,“ you pause to groan. “…give it to his mother. Which sounds cruel, but alas I do not care. She deserves it for what she caused, don’t you think?” You ask and lay him down on his back, catching the way his eyes are half-lidded and the blood running out of his gash is no longer bright crimson, but dark.

“Addam?” You call out and lose every ounce of warmth that was building up in your voice as you wanted to be oblivious. “Addam?” Your voice cracks and your heart slowly sinks down to your stomach, but you don’t come to any conclusion yet. First, you turn his head so it’s not bent at a concerning angle, and then, rip a long piece of fabric from your gown's skirt to wrap it around his head and apply pressure on his wound.

“You’re all patched up,” you strain to say as he remains motionless and with his eyes half-lidded. “Addam? Did you hear me?”

You bring your hands down from his head and press them on his chest to shake him gently so he can wake up, but he doesn’t even twitch. Thus you press your palm over his heart and wait.

Wait. And wait.

You even hold your breath as if that was in the way of letting you feel a single beat of his heart, but even in the silence that surrounds you and him, you fail to feel his heart thump under your palm. There’s not even a weak and soft thump, his heart is still. Lifeless…

“Addam?” Your voice quivers and you proceed to drag your hands up to grab his shoulders and shake him gently. “Addam?!” You croak, but there’s not even a groan or a pained gasp. He lies there breathless with his eyes lifeless and dull.

“A…Addam,” you keep calling out in hopes something will change when you know the truth. You had known it since the moment he failed to respond to your call the first time because even though there was a chance he was just unconscious then, you knew deep inside that life wouldn't treat you that kindly and death wouldn’t spare someone you loved just for you to suffer less. Yet you still tried to cling onto some fragment of hope. You wished desperately for there to be a positive outcome, but…there isn’t. Addam is dead…that's what all his wounds mean. He’s dead.

“Addam!” You cry and shake him again, but like before there’s no response so you let go of his shoulders and lift your hands to stroke his face still kept warm. “Please,” you plead, but not to Addam, to life, to destiny, the gods, or death. You pleaded to any divinity that existed so they could provide you with a miracle and not steal the life of yet someone else you loved.

Alas, they also ignore you and you're left on your knees having to cradle Addam’s body in your arms and continue to be ignorant of the fact that lies before you. “Please. Please!” You bellow out and tilt your head up, causing your glossy eyes and tear-pampered face to glisten under the light of the scattered fires on the battlefield.

“Cregan?! Cregan!” You call out and strain your throat as you do so, but he doesn’t come. There’s not even a glimpse, so you drop your head and face Addam’s lifeless face feeling powerless and useless.

“I’m sorry,” you weep and press your forehead on his. “I’m so sorry, Addam…why did you have to leave me too?”

You draw in a shaky breath and close your eyes as you rock his body back and forth with you.

You would cry harder, you would plead with every fiber of your being. You would be mad, and try to curse life, but you have already lost so much. You faced death so much that this time you feel so worn out. You can’t keep pleading for some miracle or for life to be just. You accept death even as your heart aches, even as your throat hurts with how much you’re crying, and even through the way your chest tightens and tightens to the point it feels like you can’t breathe.

When you let him go you do so without your usual fight because you don’t have the energy to keep falling apart every time you lose someone. You can’t do it again, so you press a kiss on his forehead, wipe your bloody hands over his face to close his eyes, and leave him next to Seasmoke.

“Astraea,” you call out with a shaky breath and walk away from Seasmoke and Addam to try and search for your dragon since you hear her moving on the ground nearby and hear Tessarion mewling out like an injured cat. You don’t care to look for Vermithor, you just have one dragon in mind so you can fly off the battlefield.

Alas, when you walk past Seasmoke’s corpse the first thing you notice is Cregan in the distance. He steals your attention, and you steal his too, but unlike you, he’s hit with fear when he sees the blood that covers your body because from where he stands he doesn’t know if it belongs to you or not. All he sees is blood and it seems like all he’s filled with is panic because you catch his lips part while his brown eyebrows knit together.

Now you should somehow show that you aren’t the one wounded, but the moment your eyes fall on him and you see that he’s looking right at you, you point your eyes behind you with a sorrowful look before you face him again and break into a more heartbroken sob whilst the agony you’re under heightens.

Yet you’re not paralyzed. You take a forward to try and meet him halfway, but the moment you do you catch the glimpse of something glistening against the firelight in the distance, so you look. You don’t know why, but you do, you stop in your tracks and look over. That’s when your breath catches when you notice an archer aiming his arrow at you.

There’s no mistaking it. His arrow is way too small to hurt Astraea or any of the other dragons, and due to all the beasts nearby, no one dares to be close. No one except him, so there’s no mistaking it. The archer is aiming at you, you meet his hardened gaze under the orange-yellow light of the flickering fire and make out his determination clearly because you have reflected those emotions in your own eyes many times before.

It’s why you know that it’s dangerous and impossible to break, and it’s why you try to throw yourself on the ground to hide and be able to throw off his aim, but the man quickly lets the arrow go. And just as you turn away to throw yourself on the ground, the tip of the arrow scrapes along the side of your head, making panic and shock hold you in place. All the while Cregan feels his breath catch and a paralyzing fear wash over him.

He wants to yell out your name and warn you to duck, but the archer is faster than he is at catching his breath and pulling himself back together after seeing the love of his life being hit on the side of the head. The archer actually manages to send off another arrow before the great fearless Lord of Winterfell, and you could react, managing to pierce the arrow right above your left breast, just inches from hitting your heart.

This time Cregan bellows out your name when you hit the ground as if startled out of his paralyzing shock and sprints over to throw himself on the first horse he finds to ride it towards you at full speed, fearing that the archer will go after you and finish the job he started. Yet perhaps his fear is now misplaced because your wounded dragon finally seems to be hit with the knowledge that you’re hurt and snaps her neck around, finding the archer responsible right away, and piercing her glare into him before blasting a ball of fire in his direction without needing to be told.

Astraea acts on her own will a moment too late to spare you from being hit, but she does counter out of anger, and pain that she doesn’t physically feel but feels through your tethered connection, managing to catch the archer on fire as he accepts his fate.

Once the archer is dead and no longer a threat, Astraea walks over to you and sniffs your unconscious body before she mewls out as if calling out your name. When she doesn’t get a response she nudges you to turn you on your back and then nudges you again as if pressing for a response, for a sign you’re okay, but your eyes remain closed and you continue to not move a muscle.

However, just like you, Astraea remains defiant on accepting a tragic reality and instead tilts her head to watch you closely. When she catches your chest moving with the breaths you take she backs away, and then flaps her wings to push herself off the ground and fly toward you to scoop you off the ground with her claws before Cregan can reach you.

He was right there, he was about to jump off his horse, but Astraea scooped you off the ground first.

“Astraea!” He calls out desperately. “Put her down! I can help her!” He tells your dragon and walks toward her, but as he gets close Astraea snaps at him as a warning before she turns away and flies off without caring that her wounds are bleeding or that the man she knew you trusted was there. She just thinks about you getting better and flies away to some place she knows you’ll be safe.

Or so she thinks…

~~~~~~

Even though you saw your father and your brothers in this limbo as you lie between a state of life and death, no one shines brighter than him, Aemond.

Many people would shame you for feeling such joy and putting him on such a high pedestal after the pain he has caused you, but how can you play the victim when you’ve hurt him too?

Besides, they wouldn’t understand how deeply you love him, and how much you miss him despite loving someone else and securing your future with your other lover.

No one will ever understand that he is the love and loss of your life and that’s okay because no one but one another needs to understand your intertwined souls.

“I will be back,” you tell your brothers breathlessly over your shoulder and don’t wait for their response. Your heart and every muscle in your body drive you to Aemond’s waiting embrace.

“<My love,>” he coos in Valyrian as he entangles his arms around you and holds you against him, letting you find solace in the sound of his beating heart that truly beats like no other.

“Aemond,” you whisper and nuzzle your face against his chest to breathe in his scent lost to your memory over the months he’s been dead, and time you’ve had away from anything that could smell like him.

“Aemond,” you say again, but this time your voice trembles as you grin and cry.

“I’m here,” he whispers against the top of your head before he presses a kiss on it and nuzzles his nose against your head.

Neither of you proceed to move away. You stay in each other's embrace until your hearts and your breaths are in sync, and you’re familiar with each other's warmth once again.

“Is this really how you see yourself?” You ask as you cup Aemond’s face and stroke his cheek with your fingers.

Aemond grabs your hand and drops his head, causing you to cover his eye and scar for a brief moment. When he lifts his head back up the scar that was left over his eye is gone, and the sapphire is replaced with his eye.

“I never minded the sapphire though,” you assure him as you move your hand back to his cheek. “I thought you looked sexy with it.”

Aemond scoffs and smiles timidly at the ground.

“But I know you never liked it,” you add and regain his attention.

“I missed you,” he says as he presses a kiss on your palm. “It’s not the same without you by my side…but even then…I was cruel to you…I hurt you even though you were the one that I loved the most.”

You sigh and take in his words before you interject. “I hurt you too. I’m not innocent.”

Aemond holds your gaze and doesn’t respond. He swallows thickly before he continues. “Perhaps, but I never should have done anything to hurt you or drive you away. I’m sorry. I wish…I could take it all back.”

Tears well in his eyes, making your heart ache. He was not one to cry so when he does it feels like a knife to your heart.

“I’m sorry too,” you don’t let him take all the blame even though he was avoiding yours. “Will you forgive me?”

His eyes narrow for a brief second before he nods gently and then presses you. “Will you forgive me?”

You smile at him and nod. “Of course.”

His lips twitch to a smile before he drops his forehead on yours and simply basks in your presence.

“We’re together now,” you whisper against him. “And we’ll never—” you cut yourself off as the sound of a girl laughing behind you cuts you off.

You want to ignore it. You’re going to ignore it, but then there’s a manly yet soft voice speaking that steals your attention, making you pull away from Aemond. When you peer over your shoulder you see two beautiful young women with white-silver hair and a tall and slim young man with them with the same colored hair.

Now they shouldn’t be familiar, you have never seen them in your life, but when you study their faces and their colored eyes, you recognize them. From head to toe, you know that they are your children; Aerion, Daenerys, and Daenys.

They’re not dead or in any state of in-between. You know that. You know they’re here by the sheer power of your mind and it’s need to keep you fighting.

Your mind wants to keep you away from making a choice that will seal your fate, and how better to spark your motivation than to show you a glimpse of your children?

The children you love the most, the children you are willing to give your own life for just to keep them alive. It’s true you have been selfish lately, you have put them last, but you want to get to know them. You want to watch them grow up. You don’t want to lose them, but they’re getting away. They’re walking away!

“Wait!” You shout and throw your hand out to try and stop them, but they don’t stop, they keep walking so you try to go after them.

Yet before you can get far, Aemond grabs your hand and stops you.

“What are you doing?” He asks, making you turn around to face him with panic that slowly falls as your face softens.

“I,” you breathe out and pause to look back at your children.

“What do you want?” Aemond queries.

You watch your children, you see them smiling and talking amongst themselves as they get further away and there’s no debate on what you want. Not anymore. Your choice is clear because of them.

“I want to meet the twins,” you say as you slowly start to slip your hand away from Aemond’s grasp. “I want to raise my children. I…I want to live!”

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A/N-No break next week is a good one!

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