#dark daemon targaryen x oc

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Daddy dearest (Rhaenyra/Harwin Daughter x Darkish Daemon Targaryen) (READER OR OC)

🔷Summary: You are Rhaenyra's and Harwin's daughter and you just proposed to Aemond, your stepdaddys worst enemy.

WORDCOUNT: 2159

🔷Author's note: This was a request, this is my first Daemon fic so i hope i did him justice without turning him into a carebear or a scary pookie.

🔷Warnings: Oc/reader is a brat, reader has clear empathy issues, reader has a daddy kink (liiiiiterallly) targcest!, dark!daemon, smut, p in v, fucking, desk fucking, choking, slut-shaming, high-treason, cheating, (daemon) slight gore, and dom/sub themes.

There is something about Targaryens that makes them a little more dangerous than other families. You have always known that. But there is something about you that makes you a little more dangerous than most Targaryens. 

Like a dragon, you wish to be close to the fire, letting it consume your everything while you hiss at your pain. You always enjoyed creating drama and orchestrating plots. You have been good at it. 

So, when your one-eyed uncle, Aemond Targaryen one day writes a sobby letter where he confesses his love and devotion to you, regrets killing your little brother, and vows that he will love you from the end of his days, it is not the prospect of peace that makes you happy. It is the prospect of war.

You write back, of course you do. You appeal to Aemond’s pride, his titles, his ‘’beauty’’ and most of all: His ego. You assume that the two of you will be married soon, should your mother wish it. Everything to avoid the war.

You happily brush your hair, thinking of all the good things that will hopefully happen to your family now. You love wearing your hair on a side-braid, the way Visenya wore hers.

You have just finished preparing for the day to come when your stepfather, Daemon Targaryen barges into your rooms. You don’t bow or greet him, instead you just smirk at his furious expression and red worked up cheeks. You fold your hands on your back and raise your chin with an innocent smirk. ‘’You seem upset.’’ You speak, your voice cheerful.

Daemon hands you an opened letter. You briefly scan the words and sigh, noticing the familiar awfully nauseating perfect handwriting of Aemond Targaryen. He brags to Daemon about ‘’Seducing’’ you and that you ‘’soon will be pregnant with child.’’ Inwardly, you roll your eyes, but you did suspect that Aemond would write Daemon about his ‘’conquest’’ of you. Of course he would. That is why you picked Aemond in the first place. He thinks you are being conquered but in reality he is a pawn in a plot he has no clue of. He is as a sheep being lured in the wolf’s den, unaware he is about to be slaughtered.

But you don’t let Daemon see your disgust at this, kinslayer waving his win in his rival’s face.  Daemon is very worried for your safety. ‘’Are you insane, courting him? Have you forgotten what that child murderer did to our family?’’ As much as you miss Lucerys, you won’t kill yourself or others for his dead chewed up corpse. Luc would want everyone to get along and to make peace, not war. Which is why he died, as it is a very foolish way of handling enemies. You feel indifferent about his loss. You miss a bit, but you won’t trade a limb back for him.

You hand him the letter back. ‘’Yes. I am betrothed. Aren’t you happy for me?’’ It is almost funny how quickly his emotions change from utter rage and murder, to disappointment, to heartbreak and finally how all his emotion die and only a mask remains.

He becomes silent. The only thing you hear is the betrayal of your own heart beating. ‘’With Aemond?’’ He asks, now a bit calmer than previously. ‘’You know you can get much better.’’ He says. You don’t know who he refers to.

You roll your eyes. ‘’No, with Aegon. Of course with Aemond!’ You know he hates it when you roll your eyes.

‘’What the fuck do you mean with ‘’of course’’?’’’You giggle inwardly.

You blink rapidly, innocently.

‘’Daddy dearest, don’t cuss please. It’s very peasant-like. Aren’t you happy I’m finally engaged? You tried so hard to find a good suitor for me.’’ You grin.

‘’Your mother and I should choose your suitor! Have you thought about any of us during these games with Aemond?’’ More than he would ever know. 

You sigh, lying easily.

‘’I will be honest, you haven’t both been on my mind very much.’’

You need a final push. You are so close. ‘’Daddy dearest, me and Aemond are meant to be. Soon I’ll carry his babies for him and make him a father when I polish his creepy sapphire eye for him while he breeds me as if I am livestock. You either adjust-’’ That is pushing it too far, part of you just knows it. You can see when you cross a line and you just did that. You see a reflection of danger and insanity in the eyes of Daemon, the man you’ve yearned for so long. 

He grabs you violently by the throat, and you squeak pathetically when he drags you with him. Daemon has lost his patience with you and drags you with him as if you are a toy. ‘’Not another word. No one is breeding you. Not him at least.’’ With a push you are on your back, on your writing desk. Daemon throws several of your books and your quills on the ground, bending you under him. You pretend to groan but your lips are curled up in a smile, when he removes your smallclothes, pulling them down and exposing your body to him. 

His big hands grab each of your asscheeks when you hiss in anticipation. He releases his anger on your poor behind but you can’t say that you mind. If anything, you love it. You wait for Daemon to finish his spanking before turning on your desk, revealing your other entrance to him. A glistering wet and needy entrance. ‘’Aemond rides the biggest dragon. Do you think his cock is the biggest too? I read something about men with funny noses-’’ You will never finish the sentence.

Your head is smashed down and you finally feel Daemon’s experienced hands touch your so eager cunt. You whimper, weak and softly when he takes a stance behind you, and you clench yourself when you hear the sound of his belt being removed. ‘’You want a man to breed you, you horny little slut? You want to be fucked and owned as a whore? Fine with me.’’ He groans in your ear when spitting in your face. You recoil in brief disgust before your legs are spread wide and open and his cock is forced deep inside of you, causing you to grunt against the wood of the desk. Daemon yanks you up by your arms, fucking you without speaking. You become a little light in the head as pleasure mixes inside of you, and you can’t believe it's finally happening. His cock feels good to have inside of you and once again you clench, needy as a whore.

Daemon grins in your ear when noticing your little cries and gasps of pleasure. ‘’You wish to be bred, little girl? You wish for your Kepa to make you his little whore?’’ He grins, using his Valyrian accent for that one word. You become even more aroused because of that and moan, weakly. Daemon sinks in back inside of you, pulling you up so he can fuck you when you lay on your desk. Your wooden deks cracks of the movements as Daemon takes your maidenhead on it, not giving a fuck for your sore museles or your begs. 

‘’Daemon…’’

You are close to your heights. There are days just like these when you touch yourself, imagining it was him all along. And now he is, taking you as his spoils and fucking you the way a conquerer takes his spoils. You beg. ‘’Daemon..’’ You are spanked another time, this time on your cunny that is brutally fucked at the same time. You cry out in pain and glare at Daemon who simply smirks back at you, before dragging his nails into your skin, forcing you back on his cock for another good, but painful ride. You become used to the pain, and to the feeling of having a man inside of you. It is better than everything you ever did to yourself. ‘’Kepa, please…’’ You beg, pathetically. 

Your stepfather has no mercy for you, grinning as if you are his enemy and this is your end. ‘’You are a little greedy whore. I won’t finish you off. The only one who comes is me, little Princess. Your Kepa will put a child inside your belly, perhaps that will teach you some respect.’’ He vows, riling you up against his cock until you nearly come.

You become even more aroused, fighting your desires and the urge to ride his cock. ‘’What if I’m not with child?’’ You ask, knowing you will like the answer very much.

Daemon pauses, the cock half inside of you, taunting you, torturing you. ‘’Then I simply must return and fuck you the way a dog fucks his bitch until you are, won’t I?’’ He breaths out, before taking you again on the desk. You are taken now quicker, faster and can barely keep up. Your cries become louder and freer and Daemon needs to wrap his free hand around your mouth to silence you when his cock fucks your body sore. The thrusts become rougher and more dominate and Daemon hits you again, and again and again on your ass when fucking you sore and likely very bloody. Yet you cry in approval, beg without words and plead for more by slowly grinding back against his body.

You see a determination that is very arousing in his eyes. He grabs your hips, impales you with his cock, all the way in and fucks you harshly and more animalstic than before. You lose count of how many he times he fucks you, but when he is finished, you can hear him grunt and you know his cum is inside your body right now. You remain on the desk, frozen, half undressed, and needy and naked.

Daemon grabs you by your throat once more, moving you to your bed. He throws you on it, grabbing a pillow. You protest but are turned on your stomach. He presses your face in the pillow so your cries can’t be heard and whispers in your ear. ‘’You’re going to become such a marvelous little mother for my son, Princess. Yes you will.’’ He murmurs against your belly. You whimper wordlessly.

His cock finds your body again and is pushed all the way in, when he kisses your hair and fucks you gently this time. ‘’Come for Kapa. Show me what a pretty obedient slave you can be for me.’’He whispers. You feel it build as he fucks you harder and harder and as your eyes close you cry out in the pillow he forces you on your mouth, soaking it in the process when Daemon fucks you when you scatter around him, breaking into million of pieces. 

Satisfied with your state, Daemon removes the pillow and looks at your wet, but bloodied cunny. ‘’Such a good slut for Kepa.’’ He tells you with a smirk. You pant still in denial that that happened. He pats your belly next. You lean in and want to kiss him. ‘’Kepa..’’

But he pulls away, disgusted all of a sudden and angry. ‘’You will write to Aemond today. You will invite him to an inn somewhere close and you will seduce him. I want him to think mine child is his. I want to be there, when you reveal to him you played him and I want to see his pathetic little mind break at the betrayal you and me pulled on him.’’ He grins. You nod, absently. 

‘’What if I don’t want to fuck Aemond?’’ You have seen the man and he seems very boring in the sheets, almost as boring as he is in the streets.

Daemon grabs you by your throat, choking you and you gasp, but you feel a different connection to him now. He seeded and sored you. He made you his in a way and you are now his little princess. ‘’Did I fuck your brains out, little dumb princess?’’ He groans out. 

You are shocked as you gasp for air, worried it ends there for you. ‘’K-Kepa…’’

He sighs at your stupidity. ‘’You will fuck Aemond, you’ll be a needy little slut for him and fuck the shrimp he calls a cock, and you’ll pretend your baby is his.’’ What does that even accomplish?

‘’But we don’t know yet if I am even pregnant!’ You whisper distraught by the idea of bedding your uncle.

Daemon smirks. ‘’One of these days, you will be. I have had a taste of you, princess and I will be back. Your mother is not cutting it for me anymore. She is the love of my life, but love only does so much.’’ He speaks, petting your cheeks when you silently cry. 

‘’Go make Aemond happy. Then we will destroy him. Together.’’ He promises you, with a kiss on your lips.

A/N

Aemond, thinking he has a pure valyrian woman waiting for him that will help him destory daemon:

HE HAS NO IDEA-

Yeah this was fun! Actually a lot of fun. I hope you guys liked it!!!

If you did be sure to let me knoww xxxx

[bl00dlight]

A Song of Shadow & Flame

CANON Dark! Aemond Targaryen x OC niece Targaryen. | SERIES

Warnings - Family trouble, violence, father issues, general suffering, teenagers getting their ass beat by said individuals over 18, not proof read.

Author's note ● Essentially part two of the previous chapter, get ready for some major mischief next chapter.

Word Count ~ 5.4k+

Tags - @mamawiggers1980

Index

i ● ii ● iii ● iv ● v ● vi ● vii● viii ● ix ● x ● xi ● xii ● xiii ● xiv ● xv

ix - 'The Last Supper'

The supper had gone on in relative peace, a quiet contempt lingering in the background but mostly, it seemed the Blacks and Greens of House Targaryen stuck to their relative side when it came to conversation. A few passing crude comments from Aegon had won the glares of Visenya and her siblings, especially when they were targeted towards Jace and Baela’s betrothal, but a scattering of toasts, seemingly made in good will seemed to draw attention away from the brewing tension.

There were a few moments, Visenya might wonder if such contempt would erupt into something larger, however it seemed to be kept at bay by the King’s presence, most specifically after his speech which although seemed to harbour some kind of effect upon both the Queen and Rhaenyra – his words of familial love landed upon death ears of the younger members of House Targaryen. There was little love to rekindle, if there ever any to begin with – and the wounds that had been made had festered for so long that they had rotted into their very bones. There would be no reconciliation between the two Green Prince’s and the Black siblings. Of course, Princess Helaena being the odd one out in which no one seemed to have any bone to pick with her. It was that in which sparked Prince Jacaerys to offer the lonesome princess a dance. Most specifically after Helaena had made a toast, mentioning her brother-husband Aegon’s neglect.

Visenya had noticed the exchange between her two uncles as they watched their sister dance freely, with her brother. She’d never seen Heleana smile or laugh brightly; it was rather heartwarming in truth.

But such a scene had a dark shadow casted upon it, as Prince Aemond turned his body to face his sister, and Prince Jacaerys – his jaw hardened by the sight of one his half-sister's bastard spawn daring to make such a brazen gesture. However, Aemond’s glare would be brought to a halt, as in his illness, King Viserys grew weary, spawning all eyes to draw upon him as his wife, Alicent called for the old man to be taken back to bed to rest.

As Visenya gazed with a glimmer of sorrow within her eyes upon her withering Grandsire, she noticed the servants pass, holding what seemed to be but a rather large pig, stuffed with an apple in her mouth. The princess had always thought such a sight was particularly gruesome – even more gruesome than any bloodshed she had witnessed earlier that day.

It was a rather cruel gesture, to slaughter something then display it’s cooked corpse with little but an apple shoved into it's mouth. It hardly seemed appetising at all, it seemed brutal. She had supposed it was what she had liked so much about dragons, despite such chaos one could unleash, they were not brutal in the way men were. They do not require their meals be presented so prettily as to draw attention from the fact they had slayed a creature to feed. Death by dragonfire was quick, easy. No apple required.

Visenya’s thoughts were soon brought back to the supper as the small snicker of Lucerys was heard beside her. She followed his gaze as he looked upon the pig, then up to Aemond. One thought in her mind.

The Pink Dread.

The young prince Lucerys giggled again, and his eyes gleamed with mischief. He thought longingly to the prank he had pulled upon his uncle, it seemed after all these years he had forgotten the mischief that had been made in the name of poking fun at his uncle’s lack of a dragon in their youth.

Visenya’s face dropped for a moment, both in amusement and apprehension – as she noted the one eyed stare from across the table. Oh, he knew…

It was clear, Aemond was once again being mocked so subliminally – so underhandly that none else upon the table had noticed the smarmy flicker of Luke’s eyes, nor the raised brow of his harlot sister. The one-eyed Prince had grown rather adapt to people’s expressions, having become suspicious of them for most of his life from the troubles in his youth. The fact that the bastards before him have gotten away with so freely tormenting him, so openly maiming and disregarding him, made Aemond’s blood boil beyond the point of consolation. No, there would be no reassuring, he cannot just break bread and forgive the suffering he has endured. He would not stand for a bastard born of a whore Princess and her lesser House lover to continue to show him no respect. He would not dare to take the mocking of the boy who stole his eye, who was weak and craven. Born of lesser blood, lesser nobility – illegitimacy. Born of his mother’s constant whoring, and the lecherous men who indulged in it.  

Nor would he tolerate the half-brained Targaryen bastard beside him snickering in Aemond’s wake either. Another product of the degeneracy of his Uncle Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra. Another abomination to the House Targaryen name. Regardless of how fare Visenya’s face or big her tits – it was all artifice to cover the rotting wench beneath. All sorcery to distract men from the fact she was conceived in a brothel by way of sin, then pawned off as another man’s child. Though, at least she was a bastard of royal blood. At least she had Prince Daemon as a father and not some brute of the Riverlands. That saved her in some regard from Aemond’s ire – but it was not necessarily for anything other than his own envy. Visenya, unlike her brothers was less craven, she had not bothered to pretend to settle any dust between them. Not played into any idea they were capable of making amends. And the only one who had ever bothered to show him some level of acknowledgement, once.

Though he had tried to keep it at bay, he did oft think of his niece in their youth, the time she had found him crying in the Dragonpits. How she did, to some degree attempt to console his humiliation. He had also remembered how she once defended him against Aegon’s torment, how he had not returned the favour – yet… she for some reason unbeknownst to him, went out of her way to punish Aegon.

As he glared across from Visenya, his gaze still hard and temper still soaring, Aemond found himself grow more angered by this. Angered because it had amounted to nothing, amounted to him being pushed back into the dirt by her. Betrayed.

He felt a swarming sense of disgust, he was but a boy and she tricked him. Made him feel the beginnings of kinship or trust. Bewitched him into believing she thought him anything more than pathetic and weak. It was all an elaborate jest, all another way to mock him.

But when it finally came down to it, when she could have proven herself not a traitorous slut, more devoted to her Strong bastard half-brothers, then a Prince born of her House… Visenya had turned away. She had looked away as her snickering little brother ripped Aemond’s very eye from its socket. Looked away when Aemond had coiled upon the ground in pain, blood pooling from his face and she protected the boy. She protected Luke knowing what he had done. Knowing that she could have stopped her foul siblings from beating and maiming Aemond. And for that reason, all traces of the seeds of kinship and affection were lost between them.

She could rise above her bastardy, become a great Targaryen as I, or as her father. But she indulges in her own depravity as they all do.

Aemond’s eye then narrowed upon Luke who still had a vile smile upon his young face, he noted how the boy had let out a harsh snicker as he noticed Aemond’s rising irritation. His mind went from wrathful to blackened.

The bastard mocks me, yet he thinks me the same boy who shall swallow his pride and conceal his temper. They all mock me, yet they think I shall turn the other cheek by virtue of breaking bread and kinship of blood… all know what they are, Strong bastards. They are not of my blood. They do not look like my blood nor behave like my blood. They are stains, lesser bred stains, who mock me to conceal the fact it is they who are outsiders, they who do not belong at a dragon’s table, nor their voices being heard by the realm. They are rats spoiling our line. They are the defect that spoils Targaryen blood. What irony they are 'Strong' when their legitimacy as royals is so weak.

Before Aemond could prevent himself, his temper had made his fist fly upon the table sending him to stand swiftly. He raised his goblet and then,

“Final tribute. To the health of my nephews, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise...” His soft voice silencing all idle chatter, all music swiftly stopping and the dancing Helaena and Jacaerys, too, stopped in their tracks.

Aemond watched with satisfaction as the heads upon the table had turned, he relished in their wide eyes, their bated breath. “Hm..” His eye widened, like a shark upon smelling blood, his softened his voice further, “…Strong.”

Visenya took a breath out, at that word. He must think himself terribly clever. She was already exasperated by the scene before her, she couldn’t even be angry at this point for it was only a matter of time before the pretence would be done away with. She sat back, noting the way her little brother’s face had dropped. The princess let her hand fall to Luke’s wrist, as he placed his goblet down, preventing him from exacerbating the situation.

As a bitter silence fell over the table, Queen Alicent brought her hands to her face in concern, her tone low, warning, “Aemond.”

But all warnings were lost upon the prince, as he smiled with satisfaction, gazing at Jace before raising his goblet further, his tone mockingly jovial, “Come… let us drain our cups to these three…Strong boys.”

Below him, Prince Aegon joined his brother in the false toast, his goblet raised as he looked glibly upon Luke and Jace.

To which both dark haired prince’s found themselves beyond the point of anger, and Jace in his rashness found his fists clenched tightly, his voice a dignified bark, “I dare you to say that again.”

Aemond turned his head swiftly, “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment.” Slowly, he stalked towards his nephew, “Do you not think yourself Strong?”

Prince Jacaerys had found himself already moving towards his silver haired uncle, and before he could stop himself, the young prince had slammed his fist against Aemond’s face. Before Visenya had even noticed, Luke escaped her grip sauntering towards Prince Aegon who had gleefully joined the brawl.

Aegon grabbed Luke swiftly, forcing his head into the table, sending herself and her sisters to their feet. “Luke-” Visenya barked.

Her brow furrowed in anger as once again, as she went to charge at Aegon, but she was met with her father’s hand suddenly grabbing at her wrist.

She looked into Daemon's eyes, and the rage that brewed within her fell away as she eased. She could not indulge; she could not get involved once again in such disputes. Not after what had happened last time.

In the corner, Rhaena was forcing her sister Baela back, as the young Lady had watched as her betrothed, Jacaerys was forced to the ground by a snickering Aemond.

“That is enough!” Queen Alicent had shouted harshly at her son.

The one eyed Prince, whom had barely so much as winced after being punched, chuckled gleefully, as he turned away from his fallen nephew. He had pushed Jace with such ease, it was not worth much more of a fight to Aemond, for he would easily beat them, and he took little pleasure in an unworthy opponent. It was no challenge.

Before any could comprehend, the guards had seized the two dark haired princes, pulling them away as now, all members of the table had risen. Daemon had let go of Visenya as they flocked to the detained Lucerys and Jacaerys, who still in their anger struggled to accost their uncles once more.

As Visenya had finally reached her younger brothers, she suddenly gripped at the hand of one of the guards who being particularly rough with Jace, her tone fierce, “OFF!” The princess pulled his thick hand free from her brother, and she gripped his arm.

Jace’s brown eyes seemed red with a dire fury, she gripped his wrist harder her expression giving a fair warning to temper his nerve. Their mother was now at their side, holding her belly as she looked upon her children with a slight despair.

Visenya turned her head and noticed the auburn hair of Alicent whipping around the table as she swiftly pulled Prince Aemond close, reprimanding him slightly out of ear shot.

“Why would you say such a thing before these people?” Alicent’s eyes were wide and unsettled as she gazed upon the sharp, satisfied features of her son.

She had always known there was something particularly strange about Aemond, strange of how easily such impulse for inciting such disharmony came to him and how he seemed to be unable to resist all desire to act upon whatever rage dwelled within him.

The prince narrowed his eye upon his mother, her hand gripping at his wrist tightly. He crooned and spoke again, his tone incendiary, “I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother.” Aemond tilted his head, ready to spark a greater fire, “Mm, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.”

With that he had ripped his hand straight from his mother’s grasp with ease, turning sharply as he approached his nephews and Visenya. His eye landing on Princess as she had gripped the arm of Luke too now, putting them both behind her.

Though it was little use, because Jace was far stronger than she and forced his way from her grasp, leading him to charge once more at Aemond as Lucerys had once again been held back.

The sudden sound of her father’s voice, made all come to a stop. “Wait! Wait…”

Daemon raised his finger, stepping in between Jace and Aemond. He gave Jace a look of warning as the dark haired boy slowly retreated and Princess Visenya now gripped Jace again forcing him further back.

“Go to your quarters. All of you go, now.” Rhaenyra spoke sternly, her eyes scanning the flock of young Targaryen’s before her. Visenya had felt Jacaerys force himself from her grip as her siblings moved away. Her eyes came to her mother and father who both gazed upon her and she felt a sudden disturbance fill her.

Visenya then shot a glare at Aemond, who stood with his shoulders peaked – his eye all but narrowing upon the Princess and she stepped forward. She couldn’t believe him, couldn’t believe the arrogance, the foolishness, she had almost wished she had let her brothers loose upon the cunt.

They both stood there for a moment, Prince Daemon separating the two as they glared with all the hatred in the world upon each other. The two knowing of what had transpired in the past, the truth of it, the failure of reconciliation and betrayal that went beyond just what their family’s knew of. The quiet moments between them in which were yes, strained but undoubtedly flickering sparks of trust or understanding. Visenya felt disgust coil upon her face as she looked into Aemond’s lonesome eye, thought it would be hard to say a sense of guilt didn’t follow such feelings.

A hard hand meeting her shoulder forced her from such thoughts, she looked up to meet Daemon’s eyes, her fathers’ eyes and her head bowed slightly as she backed away.

 Aemond tilted his own as he watched the princess concede to her father, he almost wanted to laugh, to shout in righteousness. To see her narrowed eyes weaken before Daemon, stirred Prince Aemond in a manner which he didn’t quite understand. He had only ever seen such utter surrender of Visenya to her father, and that was what pleased him the most… she had to pretend such surrender was merely respect of her mother’s husband. She had to restrain the urge to behave as a daughter would to her father, to concede and resist revolting against him. His eye followed Visenya as she walked after her siblings.

The one eyed prince soon found his body stiffening as felt his uncle turning to face him, a small almost glib sigh leaving Daemon’s mouth. An odd tension brewed, a strange comradery he thought. Aemond felt himself buzz, itching to indulge in more of his anger, to show them exactly what he was capable of. What he was so eager to do so and when he looked into the eyes of his uncle, he could’ve sworn he saw the same in Daemon, a match, an equalised opponent. It took the Rogue Prince having to step in to stop me from beating those bastards to a pulp. It took Daemon himself to recognise that I was just a greater threat as any.

Visenya had paused for a moment as she walked, briefly glancing at the interaction of between her father and uncle. The odd tension that brewed thickly between them, her gaze lingered upon Daemon and as she turned away. She recognised the look her father had given Aemond. One of amusement, just as he had given her countless times. That gleam of condescension driven by superiority. As if he were watching a child attempt to yield of sword… a pitiful endearment.

●

The princess hadn’t bothered to wait for her mother or father, she simply returned to her chamber swiftly. Slamming the doors as she soon found herself laying upon her bed and shutting her eyes.

Less than an hour had gone by before the creek of her chamber door filled her room, she sighed, it was likely her mother ready and willing to wag her finger. Visenya muttered, “How come no matter what transpires I am always the one to be lectured, mother?”

“It’s me, sister.” A small voice mumbled.

Visenya sat up and turned her head, her gaze softening at the sight of familiar dark eyes and shaggy black hair.

Lucerys.

The princess tilted her head and waved him over, to which he slowly approached her, sitting upon her bed. As she laid back down, neither of the siblings said anything, she merely watched as Luke hung his head low and sulked.

Visenya sighed and then, tapped his back with her boot, forcing him to turn his head.

“Come.” She said expectantly, rolling her eyes. She sat up, gesturing for him to come lay beside her.

He let out a small breath and mumbled, “I am nearly a man grown. I ought not be coddled.” Luke pouted.

Visenya scoffed, and raised her brow, “So why have you come?”

Then, a small but obvious moment passed between the two siblings, Luke looked down and sighed. She was right, why else would he have come? He was weak, he was not like his elder brother who brimmed with such confidence and self-assurance. Try as Lucerys might, he couldn’t suppress his anguish, his anxiety.  He knew he must now, he was to be married to Baela, would then be a father soon after and then named Lord of Driftmark. How could he dare assume such roles if he still needed to be assured his world was not crumbling before him? That he was deserving of his titles and of his position as a man? His mother and sister would not be there forever, and he knew no wife would surely tolerate a weak husband. Especially not a woman as fierce and formidable as Rhaena. She deserved a man who would be the one to soothe her woes, to ease her worries.

Though mayhap, tonight was not the night to try and call upon that man he wished be.

Visenya slowly made her way to the end of the bed, sitting beside him. She gazed upon her young brother, noting the flickering uncertainty within his eyes. She couldn’t help but feel her eyes soften upon him, suddenly struck with how young he was, how he still looked like a boy straining desperately to be a man. Her hand came to his head and gently, she brought him to her shoulder, noticing the bruise upon his forehead from where Aegon had attacked him. Her fingers gently grazing it making him wince.

"You must see a maester." Visenya said, her gaze flickering upon the discolored skin.

Lucerys shook his head, and a moment of silence settled between them before finally, he gained the courage to speak, “I keep making this worse for mother.” He whispered.

She sighed, bringing him closer as she rested her chin about his scalp, “It was no fault of yours, brother.” The princess spoke softly as her fingers grazed his hair.

“Yes it was. I laughed at him, didn’t I? I thought myself clever when I should have looked the other way. I caused trouble and now… now I whine like a babe about it.” Luke suddenly pulled his head from her shoulder, stifling down tears of both sorrow and wrath. “A man takes accountability. A boy cower in his sister’s arms.” His voice firm.

The princess gazed upon the side of Luke’s face, scanning his boyish features. She raised an eyebrow and suddenly a laugh escaped her.

The young prince turned his head in shock, his voice stuttering, “Do… do not laugh.”

Visenya continued regardless, she rolled her eyes and leaned back upon her elbow, forcing Luke to turn his head.

“Brother I laugh because you are boy. I laugh because I cannot tell you how many times I have watched our brother, or my father… or even our un-” She stopped herself, “Even other boys, do the same as you are now. Fighting themselves so foolishly over what is a condition of having a heart, not the weakness of a man.” Visenya rose to sit up once more, taking his hand.

“You took accountability just before, no?” She beckoned.

Luke nodded.

“Well then, you have done what a man would do... recognise you made an error at laughing at our uncle, who himself, made an even greater error by throwing a most bitter tantrum! Precisely after our Grandsire was not there to witness such a thing.” Her voice firm as she ranted.

Lucerys raised his brow as he took in her words, his mind churning, “Yet I doubt Aemond is scuttling off into the arms of his sister.”

“No, he likely to craven to even admit such weakness to his own kin, but one never knows what other methods of comfort he seeks. My point is that it is he who acts more boyishly then you. Aemond who relishes in such causing scenes! Yes you laughed, so bloody what? You are the one who is truly but a boy still. Aemond is but a man grown, he ought have a stronger spine.” The princess lowered her tone, shaking her head as she scoffed with contempt.

As Prince Lucerys looked upon his sister, he felt tears beckon in his eyes his heart aching as he realised how terribly he wished to be long gone from this place, how he wished things could be as they were in their youth at Dragonstone. Yet a sense of doom befell him, that things had changed now.

Slowly his head came back to her shoulder, and Visenya could do nothing but look upon her younger brother with an affection like no other. She brought her hand up to his hair, stroking it and she felt droplets of tears fall upon the fabric of her gown.

“I shall never be like you… or Jace… or even mother. I shall always be afraid.” He whispered.

“Sweet brother. We are all afraid. Fear does not make you weak...and it took me many years to see that neither does the revelation of vulnerability.” Visenya’s voice dropped to a soft, cooing tone. Her hand still gliding upon the mop of his black curls.

Luke shook his head, protesting her words. His voice strained, “You are not vulnerable as I am.”

“Yes… I am. I am, Lucerys... but I feel I must stay strong. I cannot falter as I once did, not when mother depends on me so. Not when you and Jace… and, and Joffrey are in such danger. I did not understand it when I was young, did not see how everything I did reinforced the slander against mother and therefore put you three in greater danger. You are not weak for leaning upon me, it was I who was weak because I resisted being leaned upon.” The princess looked out upon the soft glow of the candles which flickered. She felt her gaze and voice become low. A whirlwind of regret and emotions pooling through her.

“But I must be strong too.” He muttered.

“You are.” She whispered back, the moment paused, which led to the both of them realising what was said, and they let out small snickers. It was nice, to acknowledge the truth.

 Luke raised his head, his face turned to his elder sister. In this moment he found his gaze weakening, he needed her strength, he needed her honesty, “Ser Leanor is not my father, is he?”

A soft breath left the princess, her mind was in no state of conflict as she spoke. Her eyes still looking out, “No brother. Nor is he mine.”

And there it was, the clear truth. She had had this moment with Jace once before, and now she would have it with Luke. Slowly, Visenya turned her head, gazing into his simpering eyes, her hand coming to his cheek, “Then at least… now I know that I can be brave. For Ser Harwin was. He cared for Jace and Joffrey… and me. Protected us, even though it put him in danger.” The young prince’s voice beaming with reverence.

Visenya pouted softly and nodded. She felt her eyes weaken and tears beckon as she slowly pulled his head to her heart. Luke’s arms wrapped around his elder sister, and in that moment he realised how much like their mother she truly was. How much he was willing to give to prove himself worthy of his name.

The princess gazed out longingly, tears falling but she did not acknowledge them. She felt a slight pang of jealously but also gratitude. For Ser Harwin despite the world being against him, did not abandon his boys, did everything he could to protect them and see to his mother. She even remembered how he would treat Visenya like his own and would call her fierce like Rhaenyra. She remembered the man who harboured dark curls like her brothers, his sweet kind words and fatherly affection.

As the princess spoke, she found her voice failing her, “You are lucky, brother. To have had such a father… and even luckier to inherit such a good heart. He was but a good man… and I have little doubt you shall be too.”

Luke looked up and furrowed his brow, “You have a good heart too sister.”

“If I have been gifted any goodness… it comes from mother. I feel, as I grow older… more estranged from Daemon. More attune to his ways.” Visenya crumbled, her heart sinking as her voice was no more than a whisper.

“His ways?” The prince asked.

Visenya's gaze drew distant as she muttered, “Coming and going…”

“He married mother. Does that not prove you and her are where his heart truly lies? If as you say… all of us have vulnerability, would you not be one of them?” Lucerys scrunched his nose, contemplating his own words. Even he were not too sure if they were accurate, for it was true Prince Daemon was indeed, an enigma.

“He is impossible to understand. He was not like Ser Harwin, he abandoned me...would barely acknowledge me in public. There was never a moment when he would dare guide or teach me before the eyes of others. Everything was done in the shadows; everything was done where none could see, and it was so rarely he might as well have been just an uncle. Most of the brief moments we shared were him reprimanding me for being a strain upon my mother, and then he would leave again, barely reaching out. Setting out to Pentos to spend the rest of his days when he had little reason not to come to Dragonstone. There were times when... when I could see it in his eyes, that I was something he regrets.” She found herself simpering, looking down. In that moment she felt like a girl again and all she could do was lean in to such heartache.

“Perhaps not. Perhaps he just… kept away because… because he could not risk what may happen to you if he didn’t. Though, I am grateful for Ser Harwin’s affection… it made things all the worse did it not? Many people still think you to be Ser Leanor’s.” Luke mumbled, a quiet wisdom falling unknowingly from him.

Visenya shook her head, bringing her hand to her face as she spoke, “Yes but that is because I-” Her eyes suddenly met Luke’s and they both knew what she was to say. She appears Valyrian.

Lucerys nodded and another quiet moment passed before he found his way into her arms. The two siblings finding a sense of understanding and comfort, just as she did with Jacaerys all those years ago. Mayhap one day even she will have to do the same with Joffrey.

There was then, a small exchange of fumbling and bickering that echoed outside her door, Luke pulled away and raised his brow,

“Just go inside!” One rang.

“What if she with a suitor? I heard another?” A softer responded.

The first scoffed, “Too bloody bad, Luke is missing, and we must leave.”

“Jace!” A third winced.

The sudden opening of her chamber door meant for Visenya to shake her head.

“Sister… I shall give you a moment to, ready yourself… and also any other who may be present.” The awkward voice of Jacaerys bellowed.

“You’ll have to give them all a moment brother.” The princess mocked, waiting for the foolishness to end.

His eyes widened suddenly, and face coiled in horror as he awaited what he thought would be a flock of men, “Them all? How.. how many- “

“Jacaerys just come in!” She snapped slightly, winning a snicker from Luke.

As Jace made his way in, he approached the corner where her bed was. Cautiously his eyes readying to shut before he found himself grimacing in embarrassment as he saw the likes of his two siblings. The prince scoffed and gestured to his younger brother, “Why would you not say you were with him?”

Visenya raised her brow, giving him a “Why would you not knock if you thought me apprehended?” A small laugh escaping her as she watched Jace’s face turn over itself, he raised his brow and nodded.

Soon, the shutting of her door warranted the arrival of Baela and Rhaena.

Baela having huffed and gently nudged at Jace, “Sorry, sister.” She said softly, tilting her head and giving a gentle look to her elder upon the bed. Visenya returned the gesture. “We were merely worried because, Luke had disappeared, and we weren’t so certain if he were with you or…” Baela trailed off.

“Why were you looking for me?” Lucerys turned his head.

Jace stepped forward, “Mother says we are to leave tonight.”

“Tonight…why? When?” Visenya raised her brow.

“After what happened at supper she thinks it best we return to Dragonstone. They are preparing a ship still; we have some time but.. you best be ready.”

The eldest Targaryen shook her head, her voice beaming with frustration “But I came on dragonback?”

“Oh… yes I think Rhaenyra mentioned something of the sorts of having Silverwing readied.” Baela assured.

Visenya rose to her feet, straightening her gown as she collected her trunk, “Hm. Very well, I shall… be ready then. How much time is left?”

“Mayhap… an hour or two?” Rhaena shrugged, “Rhaenyra had just said for us to be ready to leave as hastily as possible, so…” The youngest girl continued.

Visenya nodded, and began to collect her things upon the vanity, swiftly bringing them into her trunk. As she did so, Lucerys had joined his brother as they bid each other farewell.

However, there was but one thing on the mind of the Princess as she hastily shoved her things into her trunk: Blood of Old.

○x○

[two-white-butterflies]

parallel lines | d. targaryen | part six

Description: An ordinary middle school teacher moves to a desolate town with her fiancee. After suffering episodes of vivid nightmares, she realizes that his uncle looks exactly like the man in her dreams.

Pairings: daemon targaryen/reader, aemond targaryen/reader

Trope: Reincarnation

series masterlist |

<<previous chapter

"To hold on, to the days when you were mine." - Peter, Taylor Swift.

These past few days, something has deeply changed in Daemon's psyche. He was always a neat freak, preferring to remain polished and clean on the outside while his mind was an overgrowth of plants that clouded his thoughts. He couldn't think straight then - but he kept a facade, pretending that he was sane. He wasn't.

Since seeing you in St. Joseph, he's lost all remnants of himself - the facade broke down and he was thrown into disarray. "Why is your shirt always untucked?" you chuckled, taking a step forward, as if it was second nature to fix his polo and tuck it into his pants.

"I was rushing," he found himself mumbling, confused at your sudden proximity to him. How long has it been since he's felt you? Had his fingers dance against your skin and body? You were always warm, and that was all he remembered about you.

Everything seemed to zone out in the background. He almost forgot that he was in a parking lot, and the sound of cars zoomed past him. All he could see was you, all that he could hear was you. He takes a deep breath, quickly composing himself.

"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday, Rhaenyra herself even admitted that it was wrong. We shouldn't have fought in front of a guest." he apologized, forcing a tight-lipped smile. "If I'm lucky, I won't be a guest for long." you teased, fixing the strap of the handbag on your shoulder. "Mhm." was all he could muster.

The thought of you being married to his nephew made him want to puke. It made him want to kill himself.

He senses the awkwardness, he decides to clear his throat and look at his watch. "I guess this is goodbye. I'm running late for a meeting." he lied, staring at the side. "Of course, nice talking to you." you answered, equally as awkward as his intonation.

"See you tomorrow?" he smiled, walking past you.

"See you tomorrow." you replied, but he was too far to hear.

(ISLAND NEAR THE GHISCARIS)

Your mother descended from a long line of voyagers. Her family remained in Lyss, and life led her to Westeros. The skill of voyaging was long lost. You couldn't command a ship, even if your life depended on it - luckily, you were able to meet a group of female pirates on their way to the liberated islands near the Ghiscari Empire.

It was untouched due the large wall-like fortress that surrounded the shores. "I am surprised by your aptitude, not a lot of people appreciate the oceans well." Serenei, the woman that promised to keep you safe, handed you a cup of tea, the liquid inside of the cup was moving back and forth due to the waves.

"It's much like riding a dragon, though you shouldn't compliment me that much - I emptied my stomach a few hours ago." you giggled, remembering the reddish hue that your face turned into. Oh, your ancestors were turning in their graves. "Don't worry, it'll only be a few more hours until we reach the shores of Pharmaka." she placed a hand on your shoulder.

There was silence between the both of you, in fear of the unknown. You stared at the small round window beside you.

Would Daemon love the ocean too? You remember the War of the Stepstones. A sigh escapes your mouth, the wars have marred him and he wouldn't have loved the smell of salt air as much as you. "It's an island filled with women, not a single man is allowed." Serenei continued with a smile, and for a moment you pondered if she went though the same things that you did.

You shake your head. You wish that she didn't.

"It must be heaven, then?" Alyssandra leaned on the doorframe, trying to keep herself steady due to the treacherous waves that pumped against the ship's bodice.

"It is - utopia is what they call themselves." Serenei continued telling the story, a smile ghosts your face. Your life had turned into a story indeed, finding true love with a Dragon Prince - losing him and being forced to live through the tragedy in Harrenhal, and now you were halfway across the world, riding a ship that is going to a place that calls themself utopia.

(ST. JOSEPH SCHOOL OF DRAGONSTONE)

The steam of your coffee littered your face with kisses, and a groan escapes your mouth. You couldn't believe that you feel asleep through your entire free period. Those dreams weren't stopping, but the scenarios were drastically changing.

At first, they were filled with love - of scenes with you and the 'Dragon Prince' then they changed into nightmares - of ones that you couldn't remember, only waking up in tears - but now, you were in a ship to some unknown island that made you feel hopeful.

Once the story ends, would you be free of those dreams? Would you be free to live your life without those headaches that forced your head open, telling you that there was something that you forgot?

AEMOND NEW SIM How are you? You haven't messaged me in a while :(

YOU sorry i fell asleep hehehahaha 😭

AEMOND NEW SIM Sleeping on duty? tskk

Daemon interrupts you from replying by sitting next to you. There was a pang in your heart, something deep inside your mind telling you to run towards him and offer him a warm embrace. Flashes from your dreams come to you. The small round window, the small of salt breeze and his lavender eyes that felt like a thousand sleepless nights cuddled by the fire.

"Congratulations." Daemon opened his mouth to speak. He stared deep into your eyes, almost peering inside your soul. There wasn't an expression in your face that he hasn't seen a million times. "For what?" you inquired with a slight smile.

"The students proficiency in math has improved since you started teaching them." he informed, and you quickly remember that he attended a meeting earlier today.

A nervous chuckle escapes your mouth.

"They're struggling with the basic stuff, things that they're supposed to know in the first and second grade. I try to go back to those topics before getting back into the complex stuff." you explained, and the smile returns to your face, happy to speak about your passion.

"Whatever you're doing, it seems to be working." he continued to compliment, liking that look in your eyes - the fire. Your body shifts unconsciously, your elbows much closer to his. Your coffee has long gotten rid of its heat, but there was still a million things you had to talk about with him.

"By the way, I thought that you were familiar even before I got to know you - then Harwin and the family talked about that trip to Italy that we both had at the same day. I know it sound a little weird, but I'm pretty sure that the picture you posted on your instagram was taken by me." you opened up the conversation, and he freezes like a deer caught in headlights.

August 23. He remembered vividly, right after you took that picture of him, he promptly collapsed on the curb and was brought to a hospital. That was also the day that he finished remembering his past life. His memories were revived by you?

"A funny coincidence," he managed to choke out.

The Gods were playing a cruel joke.

He stares at your face, seeing your squinting eyes - waiting for his reply. He decides that this might be the right time to talk about Tirano. "When you left, I actually collapsed." he chuckled, playing with the ring on his finger.

"What? Why?" your eyebrows merged into each other.

"I don't know if I'm the only one but - when I was younger I used to dream about weird things, dragons, kings, wars. At first, my parents thought that it was just the result of an overactive mind but the dreams persisted until I turned into an adult - actually I think I was in my late thirties or early fourties when they stopped. It stopped after that trip to Tirano." he monologued, now evading your gaze.

If you weren't able to make the connection, then he would've revealed himself for nothing. "I dream about those things too. Strange." you whispered, your voice suddenly decreasing in volume. "I'm not the only one then," he looked to the side.

"But you said that they stopped? How did they stop?" you asked, wanting to rid yourself of those nightmares. He smiled, remembering seeing your face before everything faded to black.

"I dreamed about myself dying, and after waking up in a hospital bed feeling like I slept a million years, I never dreamt about it again." he confirmed and your heart sinks to your chest. "Holy shit, this sounds so fanatically cultish." you cursed. "- you're telling me that I need to die in the dream to stop dreaming about it again?" you repeated.

He replies with a shrug.

"Well that's going to take a long time. I'm in like, Act Three of the whole novel." you decided to keep the conversation light, although the topic was serious and you weren't sure if you were there to believe him. "How many acts are there?" he raised an eyebrow. "How many acts are in Madame Butterfly?" you quizzed.

"Three...so you're near the end." he smiled. "I'm not sure, for all we know it might just be the end of the beginning." you answered.

He stands up, hearing the bells ring.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure that you'll find a cure of your own." he bid his goodbyes and disappeared from the teacher's lounge.

AEMOND NEW SIM Can you pls catch a ride with someone u work with? I'm a little busy here in mom's house She's moving a few things Yknow her trip to Turkey

YOU Okay, what time will u be home?

AEMOND NEW SIM Probably before dinner If I'm out past six have dinner before me

YOU Alright, take care

next part >>

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (13)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, trauma, regret, depression, mention of a suicide attempt ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Daemon understood better than anyone what it meant to be the second son, the one who would inherit nothing. It seemed to him that, in contrast to Viserys, he was a blazing fire like a true dragon, giving warmth, light and shelter to those close to his heart, burning those whom he saw as his enemies.

Viserys was always blind, soft-spoken, lacking strong character and clear opposition when things got too far out of hand.

This trait of his had been carefully exploited by Otto Hightower over the years, putting himself in the role of his friend and adviser, playing his part with an extraordinary devotion from which he felt like throwing up.

He knew it was pure courtesy, perfectly calculated, taking advantage of the mourning of the entire Red Keep and his inattention after Aemma's tragic death he slipped his brother his daughter under his nose.

Looking at her on their wedding day, standing in a long, ornate gown he thought she looked like a child on whom someone had put layers of cloth and precious stones; overwhelmed by it all she looked down at her feet, around her nails the red wounds he had seen on her hands ever since.

On that one day, knowing what was awaiting her, he truly felt compassion for her.

After that, however, he stopped.

She could have built her independence, committed herself to the needs of the kingdom, she, however, in the company of that cunt, Criston Cole, gave herself over to prayer and mortification, obediently following her father's orders.

As a woman, she was in his eyes pitiful, weepy, whiny, merely pretending to be saintly and virtuous, having in fact nothing to do with these qualities.

His feelings about her and her father moved involuntarily to her children.

He recognised the dragon's blood in them and treated them differently from the Hightowers, yet he was unable or unwilling to bond with them, seeing how they were suckled to their mother's breasts, which did not allow them to think or breathe on their own.

He watched from the sidelines, observing from afar as Rhaenyra and Alicent's children trained together, how a divide formed between them. He knew that once they grew up and understood what was really at stake, they would throw themselves at each other's throats.

He knew perfectly well whose right to the throne he would support.

Aegon was a drunkard and a cunt, Helaena was quiet and withdrawn, Aemond was sullen and vindictive − he thought with amusement that each of them had inherited the worst from his brother and their mother.

However, he couldn't help but show at least a little compassion and understanding for his brother's second son, who had been punished by the gods, left without a dragon of his own.

Some part of him wanted to speak to him, to get to know him, to see through him as a kind of reflection of himself, but on those rare occasions when he was with Leana and his daughters in the Red Keep he never made such a gesture, which he later, though he did not want to admit it to himself, regretted.

Perhaps things would have turned out differently then.

He could see with what admiration he looked at him, how much he longed to hear at least one word of appreciation from him, any gesture of interest.

He knew that if he could decide who his father-figure would be he would choose not Viserys or Cole but him, and he pretended not to notice that.

Once though, he noticed something that surprised him; strolling through the cloisters of the Red Keep he spotted his nephew and Rhaenyra's only daughter standing side by side in the square, leaning over the table filled with the various weapons. He smirked under his breath as he walked closer, wanting to listen to their conversation.

They were betrothed.

A clumsy attempt by his brother to avoid what he felt in his bones had to happen.

He saw his niece point her finger at one of the weapons lying on the wooden tabletop, a steel black spiked ball hooked on a chain to a special handle.

"What is it? It looks scary." She said with amusement, her voice light and pleasant; he thought with surprise that his nephew's grim and stormy nature did not deter her.

Alicent's son grunted loudly, lifting his chin slightly in a gesture of superiority and intelligence that he hated so much about the Hightowers, clearly proud to be able to speak on a subject in which his knowledge was extensive.

"It's a flail. A very heavy weapon requiring great strength and agility in its use. It literally crushes the opponent." He said, forcing himself into a low, mature, masculine voice, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his hair in a slight disarray from the few duels he had already had.

"That weapon looks like the kind you die from in agony." Mumbled his niece, tentatively touching her fingertip to one of the spikes – her uncle pushed her away immediately, surprised by her gesture, grabbing her hand by the wrist.

"Are you insane? What are you doing? It's sharp after all, you could have hurt yourself." He said angrily, but she only blinked, surprised by his outburst, and smiled indulgently, showing him her finger.

"I know, silly. I wouldn't want something like that to hit me in the face." She sneered, raising her eyebrows in amusement, joy in her gaze and embarrassment at the fact that he still hadn't let her go.

She took a step closer to him, but he stepped back quickly and lowered his gaze, he noticed in disbelief that his pale cheeks had turned scarlet.

"Not here. Later." He muttered letting go of her wrist immediately. He heard her quiet sigh of disappointment as she nodded and walked away without another word.

He watched as, a moment later, his nephew cursed under his breath, pulling off his leather gloves and moved after her, grabbing her at one of the side entrances by her arm. She turned to him with a smile as if she was sure he would follow her, her lips placing a quick, brief kiss on his cheek.

He let her go, embarrassed and blushing, looking sideways, muttered something, and she nodded and disappeared behind the walls. His nephew returned to the square as if nothing had happened, a lazy, barely visible smile on his face; Aegon looked at him from afar with a look full of pity, as soon as his younger brother came closer he said loud and clear:

"What a twat you are."

He snarled under his breath as he heard Criston Cole immediately respond to his remark by saying that it was inappropriate for a prince to use such vocabulary, his younger brother only gave him a grim look indicating that he himself was torn internally, ashamed of his weakness.

He thought then, moving ahead, amused, that his brother had inadvertently contributed to something that was certainly not his original plan.

These kids really wanted it.

He felt shame because, looking at them, he wondered how he really felt about his wife. He recognised that she was his companion and lover, whom he respected and cherished, but she was not his friend, he could not allow her into the depths of his heart.

Only when he saw Rheanyra did he feel something more; he had the feeling that the air around them quivered when they spoke, he sensed that she understood perfectly the source and reason of his impulsive nature.

Despite this, he found his life peaceful and prosperous, and the death of his wife in childbirth was something shocking and painful to him. He covered his grief with laughter, the thought that he had wasted years of her life, a wonderful, beautiful woman who deserved someone to love her with all her being, giving her something more than a substitute of affection.

Then, however, his nephew lost an eye and everything fell apart like a house of cards, showing how weak their family actually was.

The events that followed wove together in his mind, the closeness of Rhaenyra and their later nuptials brought him a sense of relief, as if two parts that belonged together had been joined.

He watched her daughter from afar, the sadness and grief painted on her after all still so young and innocent face made her seem to him pale and lifeless, at once beautiful, cool and inaccessible, walking around Dragonstone like a ghost, not speaking to anyone despite how much his daughters tried to get close to her.

She was warm, helpful and welcoming when anyone approached her, but did not raise any discussions herself, eating and drinking little at suppers, immersed in her thoughts.

He knew that she was with them only in body.

He decided not to make the same mistake as with his nephew and offer her his interest, his support in the ironic and mischievous form peculiar to him, the only way in which he could show his affection to anyone.

What surprised him was how much she clung to him, how often she cried during their walks together; despite her innate vulnerability she had a strength of character that he appreciated – she was inclined to rash actions or anger, but she was also not docile or naive, she tried to find order in the chaos that surrounded her.

Only he and his niece had been invited to Aegon's nuptials to Helaena; Alicent had expressed in her letter her concern that the meeting of their children might affect them badly and reawaken old wounds, which his wife took as a reasonable argument, and indeed, albeit reluctantly, it was only the two of them who travelled to the Red Keep.

The whole ceremony in the Great Sept dragged on endlessly for him; he looked around, bored, unwilling to stare at the horrified, sad faces of his nephew and niece, testament to the fact that neither of them wanted this marriage.

The wedding supper held in the fortress was lavish with dancing and music, lords from all over the kingdom descended and gathered in the throne room at large, long oak tables filled to the brim with food. Sitting down in his seat next to his wife, he glanced sideways and noticed a figure looking at him intensely, the One-Eyed Prince staring at him coolly, his lips pressed into a thin line.

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief and admiration, finding that he looked like a man, well-built and muscular, tall, his hair much longer, a black eye patch covering the left side of his face.

He grinned with amusement and mockery, wondering to what he owed his attention, and his nephew only hummed under his breath, looking away, apparently discouraged by his reaction.

He wondered, looking at him, taking a sip of wine from his goblet, if he had shown him fatherly concern then, taken him under his wing, separated him from Alicent and Otto, he would be a different man now.

Several toasts were made to the bride and groom, during each of which Aegon drank his cup to the bottom, clearly intent on fulfilling his marital duty completely drunk.

"Stop it. You've had enough." Growled his younger brother, taking his goblet from him with an aggressive flick of his hand, setting it impatiently far from his older brother's reach.

Aegon slapped him angrily on the shoulder, mumbling something under his breath; his younger brother stood up, towering over him, showing him wordlessly that if he touched him again he would regret it.

"Aemond." Said their mother, this green whore, who was looking at them in pain, her hands folded in front of her as if to pray.

His nephew rolled his eyes and left the hall by a side entrance, furious, unwilling and unable to look at it apparently; Aegon with a wide grin reached for his cup again and to his despair took the empty seat next to him that had been occupied earlier by his wife, now conversing with the King.

"Uncle! So many years." He mumbled, tapping him on the back in a friendly, masculine greeting. He rolled his eyes, amused, smelling the stench of alcohol and sweat from him.

"As you can see, everything stays in the family. I don't know how I'm going to survive this. After all, she'll surely cry. Fuck." He muttered, taking a deep, catchy sip from his cup, tilting it so that he drank it all at once.

He ran his tongue over his lower lip, feeling discomfort at the thought that he felt compassion for Helaena for what was about to happen to her.

He glanced at her sad, petite figure; she sat gazing off into the distance somewhere, dreamy.

He wondered as he watched her if she realised what awaited her.

"She doesn't seem to fully understand what I will have to do to her. After all, she's my sister. I don't want to hurt her. She's odd and I don't understand her, but I don't want her to fucking cry." He mumbled out covering his face with his hand, his voice breaking with his every word – he drew in air loudly as if he was out of breath, and he looked at him not knowing what to do.

What was he supposed to answer him?

"Be gentle and kind. Make her feel as little pain as possible. You know very well that how it will look lies in your hands. If you want her to suffer as little as possible, stop drinking because it will take you a fucking hour." He growled, taking the cup from his hand just as his younger brother had earlier, and wondered if that was what he meant then, if he knew his condition would only worsen whatever was to await them next.

"You pity yourself and you smell of alcohol and sweat. Go take a bath or do you want to lay on her like that? Give her some dignity for goodness sake." He said coolly, looking ahead indifferently; his nephew swallowed loudly, sitting beside him like a little rebuked child, playing with his fingers.

He wondered, looking at him out of the corner of his eye if his brother had ever spoken to him about it, if he had prepared him and explained to him how he should behave.

"All my life I've envied him. My brother. He had someone of his own who cared about him. I think he really loved her, uncle. Now I barely recognise anyone myself. I'm not sure any of us are the same person anymore. Only Helaena has remained the same − innocent and ignorant. That's because she doesn't step outside her mind. If she did, she would have gone mad like we did."

It turned out that he was partly right.

What he didn't expect was that when they arrived all together as a family after several years in King's Landing to defend Luke's rights to inherit the Driftmark these two would be lying in bed with each other on their very first night.

"If you tell me you still want to marry him, I will help you. I'd rather you be his wife than lead you and him into a scandal that could destroy your mother. Your betrothal has never been called off, the king will easily prove that no other plans for you can be in force against his decision. But if you decide not to, I will personally see to it that you never see him again and that no letter of yours leaves Dragonstone. Make a manly, mature decision with all its consequences, and stop wallowing over yourself."

He told her then, wanting her to understand that they could not stand in the middle, that they had to choose, or their decisions would drag them all down.

Watching them in the throne room audience, however, the greedy, desperate gaze of his nephew fixed on her as if he wanted to devour her gave him no illusions.

What this boy was telling himself was one thing, but what he was feeling was another.

It was this thought that made him decide to question Alicent's decision in front of everyone, wanting to hear his brother's opinion on the matter, the only one that really counted. He had expected nothing but objections from both sides, however, against the desperate attempts of their mothers, his nephew and his niece's daughter made a decision that did not surprise him at all.

It was enough for her to get up from her seat and walk out to make him press his lips together in rage and follow her out, exactly as he had done then, in the courtyard, when he had thrown himself after her, and she knew perfectly well that he would do so, knowing his nature.

He wondered if she had kissed him this time too, if the tension between them had eased.

He thought that this marriage might actually calm the emotions a little, especially as his brother was over his deathbed.

This union was forcing both parties to be cautious, which could be mutually beneficial.

"She has decided that she wants to stay in the Red Keep until I return." His wife said to him, putting her black leather gloves on her hands, walking beside him towards the dragon's lair. He stopped, looking at her in disbelief, furious.

This was not the plan.

"What?" He growled, looking at her as if she had completely lost her mind. "You're leaving my daughter in the care of that whore and her father-traitor?"

He saw that she smiled at his words emphasising that in his eyes she was his child, that he had taken responsibility for her and protected her as any true father should.

"She asked me to do this. I imagine they both want to clarify a lot of things with each other. Since the nuptials are to take place as soon as possible there is no need to fret, I will personally take her back in a few days." She replied calmly, and he let out a loud breath, impatiently licking his lips.

It was a bad idea, he could feel it in his bones, but he didn't protest and that was his mistake.

The next day he lost two of his daughters.

Rhaenyra, his brother's heir to the throne fell with a groan when envoys reported to her that her father was dead, that her brother had been crowned king, that they had imprisoned their daughter.

She cried out loudly in pain, clutching at her womb; at first he thought it was despair, but then he saw the pool of blood beneath her feet, her terrified gaze, her lips parted in agony.

They both knew it was too soon.

Their daughter already looked like a tiny infant, but sadly her fate was sealed; she wasn't moving or breathing, she was cold, looking more like a doll than a human being.

He felt that he had to leave the fortress; he followed exactly where he always went out with her, with one of his daughters, to the sea itself, and he fell to his knees, breathing heavily, not knowing what he was supposed to do with the rage and chaos that overtook his mind.

He wanted to mount Caraxes and burn them all.

However, his cousin and daughters had cooled his ardour, recognising that they needed to prepare, gather an army, make a plan of action.

He recognised that it was only female sentiment, a weakness that kept them from making the risky decision that his whole life consisted of.

When his wife finally recovered from her brief mourning, despite his entreaties, she did not listen to him and decided to send her sons as her representatives, wanting to extract the pledge of allegiance from those who had paid her tribute many years ago.

He had thought it nonsensical, however, when Luke returned from Storm's End it turned out that his step son had been a naive idiot.

"You flew after him? You flew after him knowing he could imprison you, use you as your mother's weakness? Fucking fool." He growled, turning away from the table with fury, massaging his face with his palm, not believing he could have done such a thing.

"Daemon." Said Rhaenyra in a voice trembling with despair; she looked at her son, trying to calm herself. "What happened next?"

"He brought her. Someone hit her, mother, and I think she tried to take her own life. There were cut marks on her wrists." He muttered, forcing himself into a calm tone of voice.

He turned towards him, looking at him with his heart beating fast.

She had done this for them, so they could attack the Red Keep without fear.

She wanted to make a manly decision, to sacrifice herself, his brave daughter, his little dragon.

"Gods." Said his wife, clutching at her womb, apparently involuntarily recalling the moments when she had carried her under her heart, the maternal tears of pain in her eyes.

"And then?" He finished for her, seeing that she didn't have the strength to get anything else out, Luke swallowed hard, afraid to look at him.

"I told her to run away with me, but she didn't agree. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she remains faithful to you, mother." Said with difficulty, Jace slammed his fist on the table, furious.

"That fucking bastard purposely made her stay. He planned this, he never had any intention of marrying her!" He said red with anger and he glanced at him indifferently, sighing heavily.

"And then what? He let you just walk away? No one else saw you?" He asked further, pretending not to have heard his outburst; Jace pressed his lips together, furious. Luke shook his head quickly.

"N-no, I was surprised, but no. Forgive me, I had to see her, make sure that she is still alive." He muttered, and he sighed heavily, placing both of his hands on the table, leaning over it, and closed his eyes, trying to focus.

He let her see him without any other witnesses and then let him go even though he hated him, even though he could have trapped and humiliated him.

Why?

A memory flashed through his mind, the way his nephew cursed as he fought with himself to finally run after her, her smile full of reassurance as she turned to him knowing he would follow her, his blush of embarrassment and lazy smile as her lips placed a soft, warm kiss on his cheek, her proof of her devotion and affection that he craved so much.

He had never stopped loving her.

This stone-cold, dangerous man had done something for her, surely after she had tried to take her own life.

"Bring me a parchment and a quill. I need to speak with my nephew."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

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[allkordelia]

Keep Me Near Your Heart XXI

"This all such a mess...a big mess...Why...What were you hoping to accomplish when you brought that woman here, Alicent?"

Alicent stare ahead at the flames in the fireplace despair and bitter, ignoring the woman she considered to be her second mother, she and the rest of the family were in the great chambers, Jaenara and Aemond have been gone for five days and the due date was coming up close. And no one know where they are. Their dragon are gone, of course, and nobody from Mageonste or Dragonstone seen them. It's as if they disappeared off the face of the earth, and it's all her fault.

"I can tell you that, mother. She was trying to get rid of Jaenara, so the bastard can give her a real grandchild." Aeron accused glaring at his half-sister as she sat sulking in the armchair close to the fireplace.

"You don't know if thats true, Aeron." Valaena spoke up quickly to defend her sister, she walks up  behind her husband to stand next to him.

"No, it's true." Aegon announce, getting everyone attention expect for his mother as he tilt his goblet back, "What? We all know it is." He says when he notice everyone looking at him.

Rhaelle looks away from her cousin with distress look, she was so worried about Jaenara and the babe, when she went to her chambers that night in hopes to comfort her. The young girl and her prince were no where to be find, at first Rhaelle didn't think much about it, she knew how the young girl felt and she understood that she needed time away. But, that's didn't mean she had to like the fact that her neice was in the wind. 

"I still do not see why we can't go looking from them." Alys says looking over at her mother with her arms cross.

"They need to come home on their own, we can not just drag them back if they are not ready to come home and...and for all we know, maybe they don't even want to come back."

Alys frowns at her mother, before she look over at Alyssa to see her with a small frown too.

It was true. Everyone knew it. What happened at the dinner was despicable and cruel, it was obvious that Alicent wanted to get under Jaenara's skin. And they all knew why, after the private dinner that caused tension between not only Rhaenyra and her father but the king and his queen.

"Maybe, that's a good thing." Rhaenyra said.

Multiple pair of eyes glare over at her as she sat on the couch between her older and younger son, Luke look over at his mother with a deep frown.

"In why in the fuck would that be a 'good thing'" Alys hiss, rhaenyra looks over at her cousin with a placid look.

"I'm just saying, if she doesn't want to come back maybe there's more than one reason than what happened at dinner."

"Yeah, and we're looking at her right now." Baelon snips.

Rhaenyra ignore her cousin before looking at her lady wife and lord husband as daemon just walked in putting his hand on his wife back.

"You know I'm right." Rhaenyra says.

Rhaelle frown at her princess-wife before turning her attention to the queen, Jaenara didn't really talk much about the first couple of months of her marriage to Aemond. All she told us was she miscarried before this one and that's it, we probably wouldn't have known about the miscarriage if it wasn't for Alicent bringing it to light one night at dinner.

"Hard for me to say, but maybe she's right."

Rhaelle along with her kin look at Maekar with a mixture of expressions.

"Are you serious?" Baelon says in dismay, not believing what he was hearing, Maekar gives his mother a look.

"Sadly." Rhaenyra roll her eyes looking away, "But, I wouldn't put it pass Aemond to punish Jaenara for her brother's actions." Maekar looks over at Lucerys, who frown at his cousin making Jacerys glare at Maekar.

"This isn't Luke's fault."

"I didn't say it was, did i?" Maekar snip.

"Then, what are you trying to say, because last time I check. Aemond ran off with Jaenara and they seem to be  happy with one another."

"Well, if your self-righteousness wasn't blinding you, you would have notice how much your sister has change. How she doesn't smile as much as she use to or how she rather spend most of her time outside in the garden than inside the castle--" Romarn chuckles making Maekar stop to look at him.

"It sounds like you fancy her, cousin."

Maekar roll his eyes at Romarn.

"No, unlike you have a very keen sense of detail that helps me understand what's going on around me." Maekar snide, making Ronas snort.

"Sure you do, did your 'keen sense of detail' tell you anything when you were watching her and aemond cooing another that night." Ronas smirk.

Maekar swallow as he stare at his cousin, the look he was giving them was emotionless and some of the others in the room stood awkwardly silent at the tension that appear in the room.

"No." He finally answered, making Ronas raise a brow while his brother grin, "But, if you have any keen sense of a brain, I advise you to keep your asinine, which means foolish by the way, remarks to yourself unless you want to swallow all of your teeth." He threatened.

Ronas roll his eyes with a peeve look, unlike his younger brother, Romarn sneer at the older boy.

"No need to be so testy, Mae." Romarn ribbed, making Maekar flick his eyes to him,"You should learn how to take a jest, maybe then jaenara would find your company a little less intimidating." He chuckle.

Maekar narrow his eyes at his young cousin before he close his eyes and took in a deep breathe before reopening his eyes as he exhale, the rest of the clan watch holding their breath as Maekar turn his attention back to Romarn.

"Yes...Maybe your right, cousin." Romarn smirk as he raise his brow with a look, "Maybe that's why it was easy for you to get Alyaena into bed--"

"Maekar! You bastard." Alyaena cries out with a look of horror and embarrassment.

"I guess humor can be consider an aphrodisiac." He shrugs nonchalant before looking away from Romarn's shock expression, while Alyaena glare at her brother.

"Fucking pig." She mumbled making her brother look at her.

"Stop fussing. If you want to blame someone blame that idiot you let dump his seed into you--"

Alyaena growled balling her fists, she turns to Romarn who looks back at her with a fear in his eyes.

"I'm going to kill you--"

"No." Daemon was quick to around his wife and grab Alyeana's elbow before she could charge at her moronic cousin, her father pulled her back to stand between him and his wife.

"It slipped out." He said low with a sheepish look.

Alyaena roll her eyes angrily looking away from him and crossing her arms, Daemon kept a close eye on his daughter as another argument ensures. 

"Slip out? More like he projectile vomited it out, he wouldn't stop talking until he finally passed out." Aegon chortles from his seat besides Adrielle and Helaena, romarn glared at aegon.

"Shut up." He snapped, "Atleast I wasn't making a fool of myself. Oh where's my belove? Where Adrielle? Where is my beautiful wife, Adrielle? Adrielle, Adrielle, Adrielle." Romarn mocks with a annoyed look, aegon scowled him before he could say anything Adrielle spoke up.

"Don't even justify that with an response, Aegon." Adrielle said leaning against Aegon, "He is just mad that he doesn't have the type of relationship you and I have." Adrielle looks at her lover who gaze at her with a lovesick smile, Aegor stood behind his adopted sister with a shake of a head.

"A relationship build on empty promises and lies, why would anyone want such a union."

Adrielle snap her head around to glare at Aegor, he looks back at her with a raise brow with a look that made her look away with a bitter mood.

"Well, not all of us are bless to be born a boy, little brother. Not all of us have a say in what we can do in our life--"

"Stop it." Aeron interrupted.

"Don't you dare blame my gender for your shortcomings, big sister." He sneer, "It is not my fault that you can't learn to keep your legs close, or mouth for that matter."

"Aegor, that's enough! Apologize to your sister." Valaena chided with a displease look, Aegor look over at his mother before looking back at his sister.

He look at her for a minute, she had a brow raise high with a smug look, she mouth taunts at him as aegon looks at him with a sneer.

"I'll apologize when she pray to the gods for forgiveness."

"For what?" Adrielle gives him a offended look, Aegor tilt his head to the side.

"For killing your baby."

Adrielle's face drop along with Aegon, the room went quiet, so quiet that rhaelle could hear the rats in the walls.

"What is he talking about, Adrielle." The young princess drop her gaze to the floor, "...Aegor." Aeron turn his accusing eyes to his eldest son, who averted his own to anywhere that wasn't his family.

"Maybe, this should be discuss in a more private setting–" Rhaelle started.

"No! There's no need for that...I already got my answer."

Aegor and Adrielle look towards each other before looking at their father, Aeron stare at them with a coldness that they never been on the receiving end of before.

"Papa--" Adrielle start with tears in her eyes but Aeron raise up a hand stopping her.

"Don't." He drop his hand with an exhale, "I have allow you to do..whatever you want for the pass seventeen years, mainly because of your mother, but now I see I should have done more." He nodded to himself before he looks up at his daughter, he glance at aegon before looking at adrielle, "This decision hurts me more than you can ever imagine." Adrielle frown at her father's words before staring in confound as he turn on his heels walking away.

"What does that mean?" She asked once he left out the door, Adrielle look at her mother and grandmother, "M-Mama, what does father speak of?" She asked desperately, Valaena snap out of her thoughts before she looks at her daughter.

Valaena didn't say a word as she turns making Adrielle stand up from the couch, she called for her mother again only for it to fall on deaf ears as Valaena left quickly. Adrielle stood in the middle of the room feeling as if her world just came crumbling around her, Aegon glance at Helaena who stare at Adrielle with worry.

Alyssa was the first to move as she stood and walk over to her cousin, she touch Adrielle's shoulder gently as the other girl stare blankly at the door.

"Adrielle...Are you alright?" Alyssa whispered moving to stand beside her.

Adrielle didn't respond instead she starts crying, she covered her mouth before she stumble forward towards the door.

"Adrielle!" Aegon called after concerned before getting off the couch with Helaena in toe.

They left the great chambers to follow after Adrielle, the rest of the family stood still watching in utter shock. Again, Alyssa was the first to move and she turn to Aegor with a look, making the other boy sense his belove heated gaze.

"Don't look at me like that, she started--"

"Your an ass, Aegor." Alyssa snapped making Aegor roll his eyes.

"Spare me, please." He started, "She did it to herself, if she stop pushing me--"

"You could have walked away." Baelon said, Aegor look at him.

"Would you and Alys."

Baelon glance at Alys before shrugging his shoulders.

"Fair point."

Alyssa rolled her eyes at him putting her attention back on her nephew.

"You had no right--" She pointed at him.

"Gods! Why is it every time something happens between me and adrielle, im the one at fault and not her."

"That's not true, darling." Rhaelle said.

"But, it is, my mother has always taken adrielle's side and father only does what mother tells him to do." He says, "It's not fair she never gets in trouble...never." he looks at Alyssa before shaking his head and stalk towards the door.

Rhaelle touch his arm but he only kept walking, Alyssa goes after him not before giving her mother a look that she take care of him before leaving out the door.

"Can this day get any worse." Alyaena utter under her breathe before flopping down on the couch that was inhabited by Adrielle, Aegon, and Helaena.

Just as she said that Alicent gets up from her chair catching everybody's else attention, the queen turns slowly looking over towards rhaelle with red eyes and dried tears covered her flush cheeks.

"Do you really wish to know why I brought Alys River here?" Alicent said in a low and empty voice, rhaelle swallow eyeing Alicent, "I brought her here because I knew if jaenara saw her...she fall back into desolation, she would have shut herself out, stop eating, and slowly fade away in her room like before. She would have loss the baby but...atleast Aemond would have had Rivers and their child in the end." Alicent finish, she glance around the room fo Daemon along with his children glare at her with hate, while Rhaenyra and her son were unbothered by her words.

Alicent snap her eyes to rhaelle when the old queen took a step forward before walking up to her, Alicent straighten her back and she close her eyes, hoping the slap would be painful. She waited for a moment, but nothing came, she opened her eyes and she felt her heart crack in her ribcage as she stare back at the disappointed and unforgiving eyes of her step-mother.

Rhaelle gaze over Alicent's features trying to figure out what she did to make Alicent like this, all she ever done was be a good mother to her and love her like she birth her. But, love from rhaelle wasn't enough for the queen, or maybe there wasn't love in her at all, maybe Otto made sure of that.

Alicent held her breathe when rhaelle opened her mouth, but rhaelle stop herself and purse her mouth shut. She looks at Alicent with a tired a look before she turn away from her, Alicent watch with furrow brows as the rest of the family follow after the former queen.

Rhaenyra was the last to leave, she held onto the handle of the door before looking at Alicent. The queen stood there hollow as tears gathered in her eyes again, Alicent look at Rhaenyra finally, they stare at each other for a moment before Alicent was the first to look away and turn back to the fure. Rhaenyra watch as she sat back down again and went back to staring emotionless like statue at the fireplace, the older princess slowly closing the door behind her as a feeling she never thought she feel for Alicent again appeared.

[snowprincesa1]

{A Fool of A Brother (2/2)}

//Grown!Daemon x Grown!F!Arryn!Reader//

Summary: Daemon just cannot bring himself to let you go

[Trigger warnings‼️ contains NSFW and Daemon]

Daemon insisted that your presence was necessary in kingslanding, stating that it would be good for the Queen’s health.

“It would be excellent for her marriage prospects as well” Daemon said to king Viserys in the comfort of his bedchamber where he sculpted listening to his brother trying to convince him to keep you in the red keep them send you back.

“Daemon, Do you like the girl?” He asked aiming straight for the head. Daemon stayed quiet not knowing what to say or admit

“No. She’s far too different from me, we clash at every corner” he sighed. He later said it would be best to keep you by the queen’s side instead of rotting in the Vale with the painfully dry Vale men. Daemon had somehow managed to stall his marriage to Rhea Royce for even longer keeping the ‘bronze bitch’ in the vale single and unwed.

Daemon had grown much more taller whereas you remained the same height, he grew from a lean teenager to a muscled prince, now when Daemon takes you on walks with your hand resting on his arm you swear you feel muscle and it sends a shameful shiver of lust down your spine. Were you so easily swayed by a man who was both lean and had some muscle? You shook away thoughts of him. You remained relatively the same, gaining more of a womanly figure if anything. You still wore a light veil over the back of your hair with a jewelled headband at the front. You grew quite popular amongst the lords and ladies being unwed you had many eyes on you. You spent your days reading, praying, embroidering and talking with the ladies and being in the company of your sister. The red keep felt like home.

You were praying in a Sept finding a minute of peace when you heard familiar foot steps, you didn’t have to look back to tell who it is “Daemon, go away” You said your hands still clasped together as you tried to concentrate on your prayer. “Are you praying again?” He asked, Was it not obvious? You opened your eyes to send him a glare to which he responded with a cheeky smile. Her sat beside you watching you pray “are you done now?” He asked impatiently. You couldn’t pray with daemon breathing down your neck.

“What is it?” You snapped in irritation, Daemon remained unphased. “I have something for you” you groaned in response “If it is a toad again I will kill you”

“Threatening to murder the commander of the city watch and the prince of the seven kingdoms. You could never change” He smirked “You’re like a tree forever stuck in one spot until someone uproots you”

“If i am not mistaken a tree symbolises qualities like wisdom and stability” You retorted

“None of which you have” he quickly added before smiling smugly “turn around for me” He instructed. You hesitantly turned your back to him when you heard the sound of metal and suddenly felt cold steel at the base of your neck. “Valyrian steel” you gasped looking at the necklace “where did you get this—“

“I had it made for you. I cannot bear to see your neck so bare” he sighed dramatically. Oh yes, another aspect of daemon which came unexpectedly was his protectiveness over you. If your wore anything revealing he would keep an eye out for the lords, the guards, everyone! “You are the pervert, Daemon” You would laugh. He would accompany you everywhere if possible much to your annoyance. If you headed out? He would send his finest guard’s or accompany you himself to the seamstress,,, he said it was his duty as he was the one who took you from the sulking weather of the Vale, which you so happened to miss fondly.

You stayed in kingslanding for about six whole years, now a woman of twenty two and you somehow missed the Vale like a child, you missed your half brother Elys and the rest of your friends there. Your sister Aemma was going through hell losing babies over and over and giving birth to stillborns. You begged Viserys to let Aemma be but he said having a male heir is the duty of the king. Rhaenyra was growing up nicely, she being absolutely fond of you. The hand’s daughter Alicent visited the red keep as well, the two girls often following your trail and copying your mannerisms. Especially Alicent, who was also a devout follower of the faith.

Daemon was..Daemon, he carried out his commander duties brutally maiming almost half the city in a span of single night. Of course it was only the ones deserving of punishment who were tortured, Daemon had single-handedly lessened the crimes in Kings landing. He preferred to spend his night sleeping around with whores in the streets of silk. Daemon’s taste was peculiar, before he had met you he always preferred women with silver Valyrian hair. One night he saw a consort who had the same colour of your hair, not quite the same texture but the thought of you as bare as her sent blood rushing to his lower half. He shamelessly ended up fucking the woman from the back imagining your moans and cries instead of hers. He came with your name on his lips. It wasn’t the same, he wanted to know what you felt like, whether you would be a brat or submissive. Mysaria ended up dying her hair the same colour as yours for Daemon but nothing worked she could never get the prince to look away from you.

Daemon tried so hard to seduce you. His failed attempts were pitiful, you were dead set on following the proper traditions that is sharing a bed with a husband. Daemon could not understand how you managed to push him away? When thoughts of you had stayed in his mind throughout all his days and it was driving him mad. For some reason one day he ended up ‘hugging’ you from behind, in all honesty it was a tackle to annoy you. His head buried in your neck as he tried to keep you still and stop you from whatever the hell you were doing. The scent of you was too much for him, too sweet, now he knew what you smelt like upclose and he wanted more. The prince practically rushed out of the room to deal with his growing ‘problem’ that would keep him occupied for the rest of the day. Your relationship with Daemon was weird, you fought like cats and dogs but yet there’s no one else you would rather spend your time with. Hell you even missed him when he went away. Whenever Viserys was mad at Daemon you would put in a word and calm him down, it was very odd how soft you had grown for Daemon. And Aemma and viserys were not blind to it. Daemon would attend dinners you did and sit by your side, ‘accidentally’ grazing your hands reaching for a dish or passing you the wine. It was driving you insane, these little touches his rough hand gently touching yours, you were not blind to how handsome he had grown. The Gods would have to forgive you for lusting over a betrothed man.

The temptation Daemon posed over you, like a hanging fruit in sight but out of reach for you. He was doing it on purpose you knew, you weren’t daft but God did it work. You started growing jealous about the fact that Daemon spent his nights in brothels, complaining about how it wasn’t right and princely but deep down you were just bitter with jealousy.

Daemon always believed that he was immune to jealousy delusional but that was proved wrong for Rhaenyra’s seventh name day. It was decided that a tourney be held for the Realm’s Delight. Rhaenyra was a mischievous one, often teasing her uncle with you regardless of the lords and ladies in her presence and that set off even more rumours about the two of you, but no one dare say anything to you fearing the rage of Daemon and Caraxes.

You knew daemon was to participate for the tourney so you didn’t bother searching for him in the morning. He was undoubtedly practicing and you didn’t want to disturb him. You were to sit next to your sister Aemma but you suddenly saw a familiar face from the Vale, lords of the Vale had come to participate and bet on the winners. You looked at your sister in delight, it was she who planned this for you because she knew how much you had missed the Vale. You took your seat next to a minor Vale lord talking to him and catching up on all that had happened.

Daemon was watching from the stands as the squire put on his night black Targaryen armour. He looked to see you looking so beautiful in a light purple gown, looking so radiant in the sunlight and then he saw the disgusting man next to you and he saw red. Rhaenyra didn’t help either, she was visibly mocking Daemon motioning kissing signs between you and the lord enraging him even more. He knew you were unwed, he hoped you would not fall for some unknown lord of the Vale.

“You should come back to the Vale, you have spent far too much time here in kingslanding” your friend Gerald said

“I suppose that is true..almost seven years” you muttered “but I’ve been happy” you said looking at Daemon who was getting on his horse.

“You are a maiden of twenty two and still unwed, you should start living for yourself instead of just tending to the Royal family, I’m not saying it’s necessary to marry to be happy..but think of the long run” he said, Gerald cared for you and did not wish for you to be a spinster.

“I know Gerald” you sighed

“You have been waiting for him..but he is betrothed, to another” he said “come back to the Vale perhaps then you could come back to your senses” he said.

“What— prince Daemon? For the last time there is absolutely nothing going on—”

“That I know, and that is the problem. He’s not yours and you’re here all doe eyed waiting for him” you felt all the fire in your soul dampen at his words, the hopes and delusions you had been clinging onto desperately being pulled from beneath you “I did not mean to upset you”

“I’m not upset” you said blinking away tears. Perhaps Gerald was right..you certainly didn’t want him to be. You missed the Vale, a quick trip wouldn’t hurt. It would be rid of Daemon and you can think for yourself and come to your senses just like Gerald said.

“Gerald can I ask you for a favour?” You asked leaning in to tell him something to which he willingly agreed to.

Rhaenyra yelled something in high Valyrian mocking Daemon that made ser Harold have to gently escort her away from the stands. Away from the already fuming prince. What were you saying to that lord? He was upset with the lord and he was upset with you. He decided to get revenge he knew you would expect him to ask you for your favour like he did in the other tourneys but he decided to play with you a little. When riding his horse his lance stopped before you almost as though asking you for your favour, you were about to stand to give him it— when he suddenly tilted the lance towards another woman. The woman blushing gave him her favour willingly. Daemon’s looked at you smirking all the while as he felt as though he had the upper hand. Your face was a mixture of shock and jealousy.

Gerald leaned in “I told you” he said before your face completely fell in sadness. You looked away from daemon. Daemon should have relished seeing you upset like he did at that moment, but instead it tore him up in the inside. It was too late now, he would have to apologise for this he knew. Lord Gerald spent the rest of the tourney cheering you up and you even ended up giving your favour to a lord from the Vale itself, but of course he was upstaged by daemon’s battle skill. Daemon felt like he had lost seeing as to how you ignored him. When the tourney ended Daemon had won. He raised his lance in the air listening to the claps of the audience. He turned to look at you but saw that your seat was empty. You were now sitting back next to your sister telling her something, Aemma looked upset but seemed to agree nonetheless. The feast would be a perfect opportunity to try and make up for what he’d done, perhaps he could kiss your hurt better, he fantasised for himself as the squire took off his armour. How would your lips feel on his?. God forbid he sees you with that lord, he’d probably pull you away there and then and take you somewhere more private where just the two of you could spend time..but then again you’d never allow it. Daemon was surprisingly introverted, only ever trusting a few of his guards and his family and never bothered to converse with anyone else. You on the other hand though reserved, loved making conversation and talking to all the people. He thought more about you, a part of him felt smug over the fact that you were upset that he didn’t ask for your favour. Perhaps instead of apologising…he should tease you. Yes that would be much more preferable.

Daemon arrived late to the banquet, nothing unusual making his way into the hall stealing the attention from Viserys as usual. Rhaenyra was busy eating the lemon cakes, Daemon looked around he didn’t see you— anywhere for that matter? Were you so upset you were crying in your bedchambers? He should go see you and kiss your tears away if you let him of course.

He didn’t want to ask Viserys where you were, as the king already had doubts that he bore affections for you and he wanted to avoid providing his older brother more information on how he feels for you. Daemon slid his way to the dessert section where little Rhaenyra was, Rhaenyra looked up at her uncle with a smirk.

“Where is she?” He asked folding his arms

“With lord Gerar- Gerarld” she completely destroyed his name as she put a spoonful of cake in her mouth. Daemon couldn’t believe what this had come to, getting teased and mocked by his niece. He sends her a glare before taking the plate from little Rhaenyra as his pitiful sort of revenge. “That’s mine!” Rhaenyra yelled as he walked away.

He looked around to see Aemma and Viserys give him a look for taking a plate of cake from their seven year old daughter. She deserved it, he thought. He took a piece of cake eating it as he walked to his brother.

“Where’s the lady Arryn, she’s late” he said “I think you should let me discipline her for her tardiness..it’s unfitting for a lady like her” he said pulling a chair next to the married couple who he third wheeled. The Gods, Viserys and Aemma just wanted him to marry and go away at this point.

“Lady Arryn? I have no idea” Viserys said “and no you will assort no punishment of any sort” he said

Daemon looked to Queen Aemma who averted her gaze somewhere else “you know something regarding this, my queen?” He asked leaning on the table to intimidate her and get a response

“Don’t bother my wife..” Viserys sighed smoothening his scrunched up forehead.

“Does nobody in this fucking hall know where she is?!” He yelled causing the lords and ladies to look at his outburst. “Excuse me brother” he said leaving the banquet hall. He stormed out essentially. He was going to march up in your room but for some reason he had a bad feeling in his gut..why were you late? You were never late? The headache you caused him. He pushed open your bedchamber doors wide.

“You! Where have you been!” He asked “you didn’t congratulate me on my win or tend to me when I fell off my horse” he scolded you “what are you doing?” He asked with wide eyes, bags, packed bags. Your room was being emptied. “What is all this?” A handmaiden entered the room to take another bag wherever.

“I’m leaving Daemon” you said “is it not obvious?”

“No. No I will not allow it”

“I do not need YOUR PERMISSION and it’s already decided”

“What of your sister? What if she becomes with child again? She would need you by her side?”

“Daemon— she has maesters and—”

“What of Rhaenyra? The girl looks up to you! And you are just leaving like that!” Daemon sighed exasperated waking closer to you but still a distance apart

“I’m going to the Vale. I’m going home. You would not understand because you’ve lived here all your life! I miss home. I cannot be here any longer” Lie. You were running away because you could no longer wait around hoping that one day Daemon might cancel his betrothal and somehow marry you instead. Stupid dreams and fantasies.

‘Your home is here with us, with me’ is what Daemon wanted to say “you want to go to the Vale? Let us go on Caraxes!” He yelled

“I don’t want to!”

Daemon’s anger morphed into realisation.

“You don’t want to be around me” he said chuckling why else would you reject his excellent idea, who would give up a ride on a dragon? “Have I bothered you to the point you have to run away from me? When have you been such a craven!”

“Why shouldn’t I go!”

“I just told you the reasons!” Daemon yelled back “your sister! The queen! Your niece! Viserys!” His name being stuck at the back of his throat “maybe even me” he finally choked out as his hand went to reach for the valyrian necklace encircled around your neck. “You cannot even get rid of me entirely, you still wear my necklace like a collar”

“Maybe is not enough for me to stay!”

“Very well then, you want a reason to stay?” He asked now towering over your figure his nose almost touching yours “let me give you one”

He tilted your head upwards giving you a breath stealing kiss, his arms wrapping around your body holding you close to him. You kissed back with all the anger all the love you feel. “I cannot let you leave” he said in between kisses, the two of you barely parting for air. Daemon pushed you towards the bed “you and your stupid morals” he insulted kissing you deeply “you and your stubbornness” he said pressing his face in the crook of your neck. “You never know what’s best for you” his hands grabbing a hold of your thighs slapping the fat of it.

“And what is best for me?” You asked looking at him

“Staying here with me” he said his hand thumb sliding into your mouth your soft lips wrapping around his thick finger “suck” he ordered before switching his thumb for his index and ring finger. His fingers gagged you shutting you up, your mouth drooling from the intrusion. “I suppose a holy maiden such as yourself has never experienced pleasure? Tell me have you ever touched yourself?” You refused to answer the question “I suppose that is a no” Daemon smirked “Do you know what that means?” he asked pushing his hand under your skirts. You shook your head anticipating his next action

“It means that will be the first and last person to touch you here” he said his thumb pressing at your weeping entrance, your cunt clenching around nothing begging for more of his touch. His fingers spread the wetness around teasingly almost entering you making you gasp “Take off your gown for me and make it slow” he ordered taking his hand away from your needy parts. With shaky legs you stood unclasping your light purple gown letting it drop to the floor. Your mind filled with lust, what was one time? One time with the man you loved? Surely the Gods can find it in themselves to forgive you for your wanton nature.

“I said take it all off” he said motioning for you to take off your last small clothes leaving you bare and exposed in your bedchambers. The only thing that rested on your neck was the necklace he gifted you. Daemon rested on the bed with his legs spread his eyes looked at every part of you. Your neck, your chest, your tits, your ass, your legs, your cunny. It send jolts of pleasure down his body his dick hardened and a bulge forming in his breeches “Gevie” he muttered, this was better than what he had imagined. His hand reached out for you pulling you by the hips as he placed kisses on every part of your body in sight. He made sit on the bed, making you spread your legs for him showing him your leaking cunny. Before you knew it his hands were wrapped around your thighs and his head in your centre licking a strike of your entire cunt with his tongue. You tried to push yourself away at the foreign sensation but Daemon wasn’t having it. His hands preventing you from going any further away from him. He sucked on your clit watching you squirm and arch your back “Daemon” you moaned. You were in literal heaven. Why had you denied yourself of such pleasure. Daemon licked, sucked and kissed your cunt making you come twice on his tongue, your legs were shaking around his head as you begged saying you couldn’t any more. Daemon licked up all of your release before he pushed a finger inside your cunny, you gasped at the stretch, seeing you were adjusting to the feeling he added another finger, telling you to relax and enjoy the feel his tongue went back to work licking your poor little overstimulated pearl over and over your hole clenched tightly around his fingers he knew you were going to come again, his movements were fast and hard making you roll your eyes at the back of your head as you came hard all over his fingers. The bed soaked with your juices. Daemon’s face wet, he wore a devilish grin on his face. He climbed onto the bed pulling off his benches to show his recent thick length. Hell would that even fit inside you?

“Lie on your back” He ordered and you followed obediently Daemon hovered over you, you finally got what you wanted the sinful proximity between the two of you. His hands intertwined with yours as he distracted you by kissing your lips passionately. You felt him enter, he was so much bigger and he pushed himself in slowly “breathe, my love” he said before pinching your tits hard causing you to gasp. He slid in fully. You couldn’t keep your eyes open, your arms still being held by daemon who now pinned them over your head. The stretch of his full cock in your walls, breaking your maidenhead he let you experience the burn, the pain, the pleasure all together. Daemon let out a moan as he felt you clench around him tightly. This was what he always dreamt about. What he always wanted. You.

Daemon had been patient enough, his slow and firm thrusts quickening. Every thrust hammering your insides as your tits bounced, Daemon was enchanted. He help your hips tightly pounding into you even reaching further, making your back arch and you begged Daemon to let you touch him. Daemon, Daemon, Daemon. The only thoughts that ran in your head as he kissed you his tongue finding it’s way into your mouth as he pounded into you. He let out little moans as he pressed his forehead against yours. As he made love to you. The moment he saw your jaw go slack, he knew you were close. He kept his rhythm steady feeling your orgasm release all over him and the sheets. He left you whimpering underwing him from the overstimulation “good girl” he said plopping on the bed his cock still erect and heavy “can you ride a dragon?” He said leaning on the headboard. You wanted to please him nodding as you straddled his hips pressing the head of his cock into your entrance as you lowered yourself onto him. The position made your toes curl, the way you sunk onto him and lifted yourself over and over. Daemon couldn’t help but watch how your slick pussy gushed all over his cock. His moans increased as he felt his eyebrows press together, he held your hips tightly thrusting harshly into you, it was too much for Daemon, he could no longer hold back he released his hot seed in the walls of your tight cunny, your cum from your fifth orgasm oozed out. White sticky fluids from your puffy folds. Daemon had seen no better art piece, you would be a muse for any artist.

You lay on top of daemon who stroked the back of your hair “you were perfect. You are perfect.” he smiled his dimples showing. You were breathless, tired, exhausted passing into unconsciousness. Daemon chuckled wrapping his arms around you. You were his. And he was going to go to hell and back if he was denied you.

Daemon had ordered for all your clothes to be moved into his bedchamber, he told lord Gerald that you had no intention to leave kingslanding as you were to marry him. The whispers between the servants reached the ears of Viserys thanks to his hand Otto Hightower.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING DAEMON!” He yelled at his younger brother who was making arrangements for you in his room “you have dishonoured her! And you take no effort to even hide the fact!”

“I have every intention to wed her, brother” Daemon said rolling his eyes at the king.

“you are betrothed to ANOTHER” Viserys’ blood boiled. How could he have done such a thing to his own family to you! When he knew damn well he was meant to wed another.

“Another who is not of my choosing!” Daemon said to his brother losing his patience.

“The marriage pact with Rhea was settled years ago! We cannot go against our word” he argued

“You are the king, the blood of the dragon runs in you. You do not need anyone’s permission! Your word is the law, the truth”

“Daemon, I have spent a life time defending you! But your heart is even blacker than I thought”

“Wed her to me..I want to marry Lady Arryn”

“You think I don’t know that, you fool?! But you have wronged lady Rhea! Kept her waiting for years!”

“I have bedded her already brother. It is done. It is decided” Daemon said

Viserys slapped him across the face for his insolent behaviour.

“Tell me brother..” Daemon said holding his cheek pressing on the hurt part of his face. It didn’t hurt at all he just wanted to get some sympathy from Viserys “what of how you wronged y/n” he chuckled “when you passed her over for her younger sister”

“That was different!” He thundered at the accusation thrown by Daemon

“Make it right, wed her to me. I’ll take her as she is and wed her in the tradition of our house. Give me Y/n to take to wife and we will return the house of the dragon to its proper glory” he said almost begging his brother.

It was no secret that Daemon and you had strong chemistry, Viserys and his wife Aemma often joking about making a mistake betrothing Rhea to him instead of you. He supposed he always expected his younger brother to pull this sort of move. And he unfortunately had a very good point, you were passed off for your younger sister which was an insult by itself, being rejected by the king.

“Fine, I will allow this marriage to take place, but just know that it is not for you but instead Lady Arryn” he sighed. “And I don’t want to hear any complaint from now onwards? You will obey my every command henceforth if you are to marry lady Arryn” daemon would definitely do as he pleases, but he nods hugging his brother “you were always weak when it comes to me, brother” he smirked looking at his brother. “Showing empathy is weak now?” Viserys smiled patting Daemon’s shoulders. “Are you sure marriage is what you desire?”

“Marriage matters to me when it is with her..” he smiled “I am serious about her brother.”

“I will talk to the Royce’s and make it up to them somehow” he said “how excited was she when you proposed?”

“Oh I didn’t propose” Viserys wanted to chuck Daemon out of the window. This whole argument when you hadn’t even consented to the marriage “DAEMON!”

“She’s asleep brother. You cannot expect me to disturb her!” Viserys at that moment wanted to put down his crown and run away to Essos. How much more of his brother’s idiocy could he handle? Well anyways he’s your problem now.

Needless to say the marriage took place swiftly thanks to Daemon’s groomzilla tendencies. The man wanted the wedding to be private between only the families. You were more than happy to comply. Daemon and you still didn’t cease your nonsensical arguments, now finding new ways of letting out that anger and love in bed together.

Daemon wasn’t a perfect husband, he was irrational, emotional, pessimistic, but he stayed the loyalest of all the husbands in Westeros stopping all his trips to the streets of silk rather spending them with you, the woman he loved so dearly. With each passing year Daemon grew even more mature with the birth of your first child a baby girl who you both named Baela who inherited that fire and passion of your husband who was also spoiled rotten by him with gifts.

Daemon proved to be the best husband you could have ever asked. You would always remember to tell him that when he took you for rides on his dragon Caraxes and whispered sweet promises to you. You had no doubt about it, marrying him was the best decision he had ever made for you. You knew he would put his life on the line for you or Baela if need be, he was your fiercest protector.

“Did I ever mention I love you?” You asked looking to your husband as you both flew on Caraxes. Daemon knew you often felt like you under appreciated him when you really did love him.

“More times than I can count” he chuckled kissing your cheek

“Perhaps I should stop then, I can’t have you growing indifferent to my love”

“If you do anything of the sort, just know that I cannot promise you that I will not exact revenge” he smiled kissing the top of your head.

“And what revenge would you take against me, your wife?” You asked smiling back

“I will teach Baela cuss words” he said smirking triumphantly.

“DAEMON DON’T YOU DARE!”

[mylackoffaith]

Dragon's Dreamer - Part II

Summary: Daemon does not like Hightowers. Especially the perfect little hightower bastard girl, who was sleeping in his bed.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x modern!reader word count:1497 words

previous

Daemon always believed the Hightowers were the epitome of dullness and arrogance, parading around as if they owned the Seven Kingdoms with their highborn noses reaching the heavens. The memory of the day he encountered the insufferable cunt—right after the death of his father, Baelon—still lingers vividly in his mind.

The day had been gloomy, the kind that matched Daemon's foul mood on the occasion of his father's funeral. The cunt had been going around, collecting congratulations for his new position as the Hand, and offering condolences with the same fake smile.

Daemon's patience, already as short as a summer night in the North, reached its breaking point. Frustration brewed within him like wildfire, and in a fit of dragon-worthy impulse, he decided it was time to put an end to the Hightower's act.

So, with the grace of a storm, Daemon did what any Targaryen worth his dragon would – he took Otto down, fists descending on the cunt's face.

His grandsire had been furious, as had been Viserys, but Daemon wore his rebellious spirit like armor. The scuffle became the talk of King's Landing, whispered in the shadows and shared over goblets of Arbor Gold in the Red Keep. Otto Hightower, the lofty Hand of the King, humbled by the Rogue Prince in a brawl.

The twit strutted around the Red Keep sporting a black eye like a badge of honor, and Daemon? Well, he earned himself a new moniker—The Rogue Prince. And that marked the beginning of the brewing feud between Daemon and Otto.

The feud continued, each encounter turning into a play. Daemon, with his smirk as sharp as Valyrian steel, takes a certain pleasure in needling Otto.

To this day, Daemon has no idea what his aunt Viserra had seen in the Hightower prick to bed him, but he figured it must have been some twisted sense of humor.

Now that he thinks about it, his aunt was fond of charity. Perhaps, in her charitable moments, she thought the Hightowers needed a dash of Targaryen blood to liven up their dull, highborn lives.

That charitable act resulted in the birth of the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower, a bastard by name but cherished enough by Jaehaerys, Alysanne, and Viserys to be deemed trueborn. So much that the Hightower girl, while in Viserra's womb, was gifted a dragon egg from his grandsire.

Her arrival, however, bore a bitter sweetness. On the very day this Hightower girl opened her lilac eyes to the world, the realm mourned the loss of Daemon's beloved aunt, Viserra.

The girl's motherless fate left an ache in the hearts of the Targaryens, but Alysanne and Jaehaerys, in their grief, found solace in the babe with ginger locks and white streaks.

It had stung when there had been no celebrations for Daemon claiming Caraxes, but when the girl's egg hatched in her cradle, the old King and Viserys didn't put her down for days on end. The small room echoed with the laughter of a king and the coos of an infant dragon.

Daemon, still young, didn't quite warm up to the girl. In fact, he harbored a dislike for her. She seemed to steal away the attention that was once solely his.

Before her, Daemon was the youngest Targaryen, the darling of the family, and now, this Hightower girl had shifted the spotlight. It wasn't just his favourite aunt Viserra he lost; it was the undivided focus of everyone around him.

Days melted into nights, and the halls of the Red Keep echoed with the laughter of a king and the coos of a dragon-blessed child. While Daemon brooded over the lack of attention, the little Hightower girl grew up under the watchful eyes of her Targaryen kin.

Jaehaerys, in his grandfatherly pride, declared her the "realm's jewel" when presenting her to the people of King's Landing. But for Daemon, she remained a constant reminder of what he was compelled to share—his place in the sun, his family's gaze, and the undivided attention he once claimed as his birthright.

Pious and pretty, she was the ideal princess of the Red Keep, a vision that Jaehaerys delighted in showcasing. To the people, she became a prized possession, a radiant gem adding luster to the Targaryen legacy.

Yet, for Daemon, her brilliance cast shadows over his own accomplishments, leaving them diminished in the face of her grace.

Whenever Daemon voiced his discontent to Viserys, his brother's response was a dismissive eye-roll, steadfastly aligning with the girl. Daemon found himself pitted against the perfection she effortlessly embodied, his protests falling on deaf ears.

To make it worst, Caraxes, Daemon's dragon, seemed infatuated with the girl's dragon, Stormsong—a stunning, pure white dragoness with hints of pale blue that could steal anyone's breath. Painfully, Daemon found himself conflicted, for, despite the rivalry, he couldn't deny the beauty of Stormsong.

It was downright comical how Caraxes would gallantly soar across the skies, hunting for prey like a knight on a quest, all to lay the spoils at Stormsong's feet.

The absurdity reached its peak when Stormsong, regal and nonchalant, would casually accept Caraxes' offerings. No grand displays of gratitude—just a quick nibble, a dismissive flutter of her massive wings, and a return to her stoic disinterest. Caraxes, the poor love-struck fool, was stuck in a loop of hunting, presenting, and being ignored.

"She's just one dragon, Caraxes, not the damn Queen of Love and Beauty." Daemon had tried to convince his blood wyrm.

Caraxes rumbled in disagreement, his gaze never wavering from Stormsong, who was being groomed and licked by her mother, Dreamfyre. Stormsong was a dragon version of the little Hightower, if there ever was one.

The peace was short-lived as Stormsong grumbled at her mother, pulling away. With a soft thrill, the dragoness took flight, her wings cutting through the air with grace that made even Daemon paused momentarily.

But he quickly shook off his distraction, turning to confront his blood wyrm. "Do not even think of—" Daemon's words were abruptly silenced as Caraxes took flight in pursuit after Stormsong.

Caraxes was nothing if not determined. It was embarassing to see his dragon reduced to one of those pitiful lovers in those books Aemma reads.

Everything in Daemon's life was affected by the girl. A constant thorn in his side. The Hightower girl, despite being a bastard by name, had the uncanny ability to steal the limelight.

Stumbling in after a night of indulgence in the finest wines, Daemon was greeted by a scene that would make even the most seasoned warrior question reality. There she was, the little Hightower, lying in his bed like she owned the place, completely in the nude.

Daemon, not one to be easily flustered, blinked a couple of times, wondering if the wine had played a trick on him. But no, there she remained, sprawled across his bed in all her ginger-haired glory, softly snoring like a dragon who'd had a few too many sheep for dinner.

A mix of confusion, irritation, and a hint of amusement flickered across Daemon's face as he surveyed the unexpected guest. Can he have one day where this girl doesn't create havoc in his life? Apparently not."

"Did you lose your way to the sept and mistakenly wander into a dragon's lair?" he quipped, his tone a blend of sarcasm and genuine curiosity. The girl remained blissfully oblivious, undisturbed by the chaos her mere presence was causing.

Daemon considered waking her with a nudge or a shout, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was the absurdity of the situation or the wine still coursing through his veins, but he found himself oddly captivated by the sight of the girl in his bed.

Just for tonight. He can deal with her for one night.

taglist: @justaproudslytherpuff @naty-1001 @juskonutoh @ammo23 @beebeechaos @fabimaou @w3ird11 @pet1t3 @moongirl27

[miaajaade]

The Line Between Love and Hate -

I

Aemond Targaryen X Targaryen!F!OC (Rhaenyra and Daemon’s Daughter)

Previous: prologue Next: II

Summary: When Daemon Targaryen asked his older brother the King for his niece, Rhaenyra’s, hand in return for defeating the crab feeder King Viserys I surprised the realm when he agreed. Years later, when Alicent Hightower puts her son on the throne usurping the rightful heir Rhaenyra Targaryen, two childhood companions Aemond Targaryen and Visenya Targaryen reunite through hatred.

Series warnings: Age gap (both characters are of age), incest (Targaryen), death, future smut, slow-ish burn.

No minors under cut:

The sun rose on King Viserys I name day and the Targaryens of Dragonstone had reached port at Kings Landing, for the three day celebration of the dying king. Visenya Targaryen herself was worrisome for the days ahead. Many years had passed since she last stepped foot in Kings Landing. She herself would celebrate her 21st names day in a few weeks.

Her father Daemon remarked on the greeting they received, one not fitting for the princess and heir of the realm. Whilst Rhaenyra and Daemon stole away to visit her grandfather, Visenya explored what used to her home. Save for the seven pointed stars adorning much of the castle it stayed the same. Except now perhaps the atmosphere seemed more cold. Finding her way outside she found herself looking upon the face of Aemond Targaryen for the first time in near 15 years as he sparred with a member of the Kingsguard. He has grown tall, near surpassing the height of her own father. They, for a split second, made eye contact. Visenya looked away in shame, guilt still plaguing her for the events that transpired the night Aemond lost an eye. She regretted much about that night, that she had been the one to start the fight and that she thought she could trust him. While there was no pure hatred shared felt between the two families, that night divided them in a way they could not return from.

“Mother?” Visenya reached Rhaenyra bringing her arm in hers. “How is the king? Is he faring well?”

“No my sweet girl he’s not. He is man that I scarcely recognize.”

The first of the celebrations began that afternoon, a tourney, which the king loved so much. Knights asking for the favors of young ladies, blood being spilt. The next to joust was to be Aemond Targaryen, highly trained and a fierce competitor. He would pick his opponent and it did not come as a shock to Visenya that he would choose of her brothers. Viserys was much younger and less experience, she could only pray to the Gods that Aemond would realize this and show him mercy.

Murmurs echoed through the crowd, debates on who would come out victorious. They both brought their horses around readying their lances and battled towards one another. To her great amusement Viserys stayed atop his horse and they each prepared to go again. Visenya noticed a change in Aemond. A tilt of his sculpted chin and a tensing of the shoulder. She doubted anyone but her noticed but she suddenly felt fear for her brother, her hands tightening around the fabric of her dress. The horses broke out into a run. Aemonds lance connected in a way that knocked Viserys off his horse, him landing on the ground with a deafening thud. She stood in her seat waiting for him to move. He seemed to lay unmoving. Aemond quickly dismounted his horse and sauntered towards her fallen brother.

“Come on boy! Get up! Get up and fight me!” Aemond raged in Viserys’s face and Visenya felt at that moment she could have ordered her dragon to engulf him in flames. Aemond continued on pushing him back down each time Viserys tried to get up.

“That’s enough, stop this at once.” Rhaenyra ordered the Kingsguard to break them up, unsure of how far Aemond was willing to go.

Visenya rushed down to the field when the tourney finished. Heading into the tent her brother had been occupying she checked to make sure he was okay. As she made her way out to rejoin her family before dinner. She suddenly felt a harsh tug on her arm pulling her between the fabric of the tents surrounding them.

“ A-Aemond!” His hand gripped her arm tightly as he stared down at her.

" Did you miss me sweet girl?" she couldn't understand what was going through his head, why had he pulled her aside? Was he still angry about what happened all those years ago?

"What is it you want Kepus?" she looked into his eyes defiantly, craning her neck to look him in the face. "Haven't you done enough already?" Visenya wanted to be far from this conversation, the only thing keeping her there being the firm grip he had on her and the friendship they used to share.

"Perhaps I just wanted to share my victory with my favorite niece mhm?" Visenya rolled her eyes at this, " I want nothing from you Aemond please for the kings sake just leave me alone these two days." He stared at her a beat longer thoughts swirling in the violet of his eyes, the same violet she had in hers, then released her arm.

"Fine, if that is what you wish." With that he walked away.

Later, Visenya joined the family at dinner. Everyone sat in silence the pure tension felt in everyone's bones. The king was then carried in, the Targaryen's stood in respect for their father, grandsire, and king.

"This is nice, my family all together under one roof after so long. After all this time, for the sake of this old man who loves you all, may we finally put to bed the grudges we all hold?" The sight of her grandfather moved Visenya. While her and Aemond would never be friends again, being able to treat each other as family should once again was an idea that Visenya often entertained. Rhaenyra was the first to stand, to offer her good graces to Alicent. It was by all accounts a token of forgiveness and a plea to be forgiven as well. Alicent followed and the Targaryen's descended into a peaceful, even joyous evening.

Viserys soon retired to bed needing to rest, the rest of the family finishing their dinners and retiring as well. That night Visenya slept peacefully, now eager for the days to follow, eager to reintroduce herself to her uncles and aunt as a woman now grown. Eager to rediscover what it means for all of them to be a family.

[angelspitxx]

elaena targaryen, the youngest of the green siblings, has always been betrothed to aemond. she is a chaste girl and a perfect replica of alicent herself. modest and proper, duty has and will always come first.. but what happens when her fate is changed? when she's no longer protected by the security of being betrothed to aemond? when the gods have given her a different husband, one that she's absolutely terrified of?

aegon has longed after her for many years. watching her from afar, drowning himself in wine and the company of harlots to numb himself of the need to claim her. now that he finally has elaena.. he refuses to let go. she belongs to him, until her last dying breath.

[sunnyhvnny]

Can I request dark a fic where Daemon or Maegor force themselves on a servant or lady in waiting?

Trigger Warning obviously for noncon obviously. (I also decided to make it Daemon because I just wrote some fluff for Maegor)

Every time Prince Daemon would come back from exile, she knew to be on edge and to keep an eye on her surroundings.

She had been a servant in the Red Keep for years and had dealt with visiting lords leering at her and groping her behind as she poured them wine or having them purposefully drop items on the floor so that she would retrieve them so they could peer down her dress and get a glimpse of her chest. None of them had ever tried anything further than groping her or propositioning her. The only man who had ever taken it further was her prince.

She had lost her maidenhood a long time ago when Prince Daemon had been in a rotten mood and decided to grab the first person he saw and shove his cock deep inside of them. Unfortunately, it had been her and no amount of her struggling had made him budge as he fucked her maidenhood away and filled her with his seed. He hadn’t said anything to her after he stuffed himself back into his trousers and left her where she fell to the floor. He had come back to her, though, and eventually, she had stopped fighting. The best she could do was try her best to make sure he couldn’t find her while he was in the Red Keep.

She had no such luck today. She was fixing the bed and tidying up the room of the young princess Rhaenrya as she flew about the city on her dragon. She thought that she was relatively safe until she felt a hand caress her clothed back and rear. “Have you been hiding from me, my sweet girl?”

She froze as the prince purred behind her. He had been back in the city for a few days now, she should’ve known he’d find her soon enough.

He didn’t wait for a response and in truth, he didn’t care for one. He had been looking everywhere for this specific servant since he had gotten into another argument with his brother. He had never learned her name but he knew that her cunt took him so very well when he was frustrated and needed to take it out on something.

He pushed her down onto the bed, his palm pushing hard enough between her shoulder blades so that she couldn’t squirm and try and get up. With his other hand, he lifted her dress and pulled at her underclothes. He smiled predatorily as he saw her not even fight against him. After forcing himself on her enough times she had finally learned that it was useless to fight him and to just lay there and open her legs and let him take what he wanted. After all, he was a prince and she was only a servant.

“I missed you,” the prince said and she heard the ties of his trousers being undone. She jolted when she felt him rub the head of his large cock along her folds. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “well, I at least missed your cunt.”

She closed her eyes and tried to relax. She had learned that tensing up before he thrust into her only made it hurt.

Clearly, unhappy with the lack of wetness between her thighs, he spits into his hand and slathered his cock with it before pushing into her slowly, chuckling when he saw her grip the bed sheets that she had just smoothed down. He slid into her slowly until he bottomed out and then ground against her ass when he was fully seated inside of her. All of the air in her lungs left her as he pushed deeper into her, moving her further onto the bed, making it so only the tip of her toes barely skimmed the floor.

With one hand he gripped her hip and the other hand slipped into her hair and tugged on it so hard that it made tears prick her eyes. He put all of his weight on her and he began to roughly rut into her. She groaned at the weight on her back and the heaviness in her pussy.

Daemon had buried his face into her neck so she heard every grunt and groan of pleasure as he roughly fucked her. She involuntarily let out a whine as she started to feel herself start to get wet. He had pressed her down and made it so she had to accept the pleasure his forceful thrusts brought her. Every slide of his cock tickled a nerve inside of her. He chuckled lowly in her ear when he heard her quiet whines and the sounds of her slickness fill the room. It only made him pull out of her further and slam into her harder.

“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you aren’t a servant,” he groaned when her cunt clenched around him and pulled her hair back tighter so his lips brushed her earlobe when he spoke, “perhaps you’re a whore. You certainly take my cock like one.”

Tears started to stream down her face at his words and he licked them from her cheeks. A tightness started to form in his abdomen and he decided to stop toying with her. He had found her for a purpose, after all, so he lifted himself off of her and pushed his hand down heavily onto her back as he started to thrust into her faster. He looked down and watched as her sweet hole gripped him as he forcefully took her.

She was finally moaning in earnest and it made something idle in Daemon dance with pleasure knowing he would leave her unsatisfied. He had done it before, and even though he enjoyed it when she unwillingly climaxed on his cock, he enjoyed it, even more, when he fucked her and left her pussy wanting so that she would play with it later in the night. He doubted that she knew he watched her from a secret passageway as she murmured his name as her hand worked between her thighs. He would watch her cum and seconds later she’d have a look of disgust on his face that made him hard again.

She clenched around him again and he knew she was close. He watched with amusement as she buried her face in her arms and cried in pleasure and embarrassment. With only a few more thrusts the tightness in his abdomen snapped and he spilled his seed inside of her. She tried to weakly pull away but he held her firmly down, making her take it. He rutted into her until he softened, pushing his release deeper inside of her.

He pulled out of her with a grunt and tucked himself back inside his trousers. He gave her bottom a hard pat when he was done and looked down at her with satisfaction when she didn’t even move. She just lay there, on the bed with her dress hiked up above her hips with her abused cunt on display and she continued to breathe heavily.

He made to leave his niece's chambers. Before he opened the doors to leave, he turned back to the ravished servant who was still there unmoving, and said, “you should really clean up in here. The Princess will be back soon.”

[whereismymindnow]

I'm awful with photoshop, but it doesn't mean I'll stop trying.

I've had this written up for a while, figured I'd upload it and see if it sparks a bit more than a few sentences of inspiration.

Dark!Aemond x OFC x Dark!Aegon

"No, father." Aemyra quickly grabbed Daemon's hand as he immediately moved to release Dark Sister from his scabbard. "Stop." His lip curled as she stood on front of him, guarding the one-eyed prince and Cole from his wrath. "Let them play their games." Aemyra whispered softly. At the sound of her exhausted voice, Daemon looked down at his daughter's face and sighed.

Aemyra was known for her pale skin, the peasants whispered that she had been carved from the moon itself, but she was almost ghostly in complexion now that he saw her in the light. She had holed herself up in her quarters over the last few days and Daemon was certain that she had shrunk. Her once bright eyes were reddened from fatigue. The last thing that Daemon wanted to do was leave his daughter alone with the Hightower cunts, but the King's order stopped him from taking her back to Dragonstone. "Look at mama."

Daemon glanced at Rhaenyra, his heavily pregnant wife ushered the rest of the children on to the ship, a hand resting on her back as the weight of the babe strained her. The stress of the Driftmark hearing and the disastrous dinner had taken its toll and his wife had been insistent on taking her children back to the safety of their home. "I will not abandon you."

"You have no choice, father." Her soft hand cupped his cheek and she stepped forward to rest her head against his chest. "You must protect them. They need you."

"And what of you? You cannot fight against all of them by yourself." Daemon inhaled as his drunken nephew stumbled down the steps to stand beside his brother with a grin. He whispered into Aemond's ear causing the corner of his brother's mouth to lift. "Tell me... tell me what they've done to you." Aemyra avoided his gaze and shook her head.

"I cannot. I cannot say it."

Aemond’s hand wrapped around her throat, the feeling of his cold rings made her flinch. “Shhhh.” His tone was gentle as he held her tightly against his chest with one arm. “Keep looking.” Her eyes locked onto their reflection in the mirror. She felt naked as she was dressed only in her thin nightgown having just finished her evening bath.

“You smell delicious.” Aegon stood beside them, quite enjoying how she was kept captive by his brother as he drank from his goblet. “Good enough to eat…” He slowly dropped to his knees and gripped the end of her gown in his hands. His grin was predatory as he pushed the material upwards until it was over her hipbones. Aemyra tried to look away as she was bared to them both but Aemond tightened his grip around her throat in warning.

“Don’t. You’ve played so well thus far.” He took the material from his brother so that Aegon could have full access to their niece’s body.

“Imagine if Daemon could see this.”

“What would your mother think?”

Aemyra would not admit to her father that her uncles had destroyed her behind closed doors. "Just know that I will continue to fight. I won't let them win. I shall be waiting for your return." She gently pressed a kiss to his cheek and tucked her arm under his, steering him to the ship where her mother stood waiting for him.

"Sweet girl..." Rhaenyra shook her head and exhaled a shaky breath. "I am so sorry. I did not wish this for you."

"Do not worry, mama. I shall see you again soon and you can present my beautiful sister to me." Aemyra painted a teary smile on her face and embraced her mother. "Have a safe journey. I shall look after grandfather until you return." 

“Remember what I taught you.”

"You need only send word and your father will bring you to me. Stay safe, daughter." Daemon held out his arm for his wife to take, and despite neither Targaryen wishing to leave their daughter at the mercy of the Greens, assisted her to board the ship. 

Aemyra waited for the ship to leave port before allowing her tears to fall. Oh, how she wished she could join them. She wished that she could go back to her Dragonstone where she felt protected and happy... but she couldn't. Her grandfather's ruling that she would marry Aemond stopped her from escaping. She would never forget the look on her father's face; the murderous rage that filled his eyes as he listened to his brother's words. Despite being kept apart for years, her father was her greatest advocate. She may be the product of a lust-filled night in a brothel, but she was his and he despised anyone that tried to take her away. Aemyra only hoped that Viserys would live long enough to see the error of his ways and dismantle the betrothal. If she could get some time with him, then perhaps she could change his mind. She had her father's silver tongue, after all.

Once the ship was nothing but a tiny dot in the distance, Aemyra wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. She could still feel the presence of her uncles a few feet away and she was determined to keep fighting against them, no matter how much they took from her. They could mark and stain her body as much as they wished, but she was a true Targaryen, and her fire burned hot. She would continue to charge into battle, even if she may not win the war. It was not in her blood to submit.

"Ah, niece... all alone." Aegon drawled from behind her. "Rhaenyra must prefer her brown-haired bastards to you. She didn't even look back."

[elegantsplendour]

Masterlist

Imagines + one shots

💌 my fav

🔥 spiciest

👍 most liked

Once Upon A Time, A Dragon Met a Swan king! Aemond x queen! Reader (fluff and smut) 👍

Comparison Aemond x Tyrell reader x Aegon (fluff and slight smut) 🔥

Y/N’s bedchamber life with Aegon Targaryen (imagine)

Let The Games Begin Aemond x Hightower! reader (fluff, smut, sweet and mean Aemond)🔥💌

Series

Mini Series

Love is a Downfall 🔥💌

Dance of the Empire

Playlist

Prologue | Aesthetics

Masterlist

Of Blossom and Betrayal

Prologue

Playlist

Cast

Chapter 1

Aemond Targaryen

[bl00dlight]

A Song of Shadow & Flame

CANON Dark! Aemond Targaryen x OC niece Targaryen. | SERIES

Warning; future chapters will include:

Graphic Violence, XXX content, Targcest, Spoilers, Canon depravity, death and war, troubling being afoot, menacing, mischief making, genocide, murder, blood, guts, dragons etc.

Word Count ~ 2k+

Index

i ●ii ● iii ● iv ● v ● vi● vii ● viii ●ix ● x ● xi ● xii ● xiii ● xiv ● xv

Prelude ~

Princess Visenya Velaryon, had always been cited as a fair & bold creature. Born in 111AC, a smile that gleamed with mischief adorned her face, marking her most like her mother Rhaenyra. She was, indeed, the picture of a Valyrian Princess, the picture of her mother – with wide eyes and demure glances which hid the current of cunning beneath. She was a but harmless thing, playful at best, impish at worse; at least so far as her grandsire King Viserys thought. Proclaimed as the Laenor Velaryon’s only daughter – the Princess did not inherit her father’s deeper skin or the ringed seafoam shaded locks of Velaryon women. Visenya in fact, did not possess many of House Velaryon' traits, both of the body and mind she seemed of true Targaryen stock, and it was but her mother Rhaenyra who knew, the young princess indeed was just that. Visenya’s impish glares and taunts were alike to that of The Rouge Prince, and to the common Lord or Lady of the court, one might think she inherited such a trait from her mother’s uncle. However, other more insidious rumours deemed Visenya a bastard of Prince Daemon’s, conceived by her mother unknowingly, right before she had wed Ser Leanor. Such rumours would be deemed, most truthful.

i - 'Old Wounds'

123 AC ~

The Princess Visenya, having but defying her mothers’ orders found her way to the Dragonpits alone, once more. She snuck through the winding caverns the soft glow of firelight shading the stone walls, her crimson dress dragging along the volcanic sand below. It was a soothing place, she thought, the warmth of the air… the smell of dragonfire which would linger upon one’s flesh, the gentle growls, and mummers of stirring Dragons. A place in which only a Targaryen might feel at ease. However, it was not the mummers of waking dragons which echoed through the caves in which Visenya heard. Her head peaked, her brow furrowing in confusion as she heard stifled sobs. Wrathful sobs.

She walked with caution, following the solemn sound until she stumbled upon him. The silver haired boy with his knees to his chest, his fists tightly scrunched. She stopped, taking in the sight, a most startling one for the Princess. Aemond.

It was only but a few hours ago that she had heard of her half-brother’s marvellous prank, allying with their eldest Uncle, Prince Aegon; to give Prince Aemond a pig instead of a dragon, to lure and taunt him just to see his face fall from glee to humiliation. Visenya had coiled with hearty laughter as her brother’s recounted the story, she longed to have been there, to see the propitious Prince Aemond faulter. However, her joy was shortly curtailed as Aemond had stumbled upon the scene, the imprint of his stern furrow upon hearing Visenya’s laughter still within her mind. Indeed, the sight she saw before her now, was unlike his affectedly stern façade – it was weak, crumbling, hurt.

The young Princess approached him softly, her face washed with a slight uncertainty.

“Aemond?” Her voice echoed quietly.

Aemond lifted his chin. A thin veil of tears dampened his lashes, his eyes red, bloodshot, and heavy with sorrow. In response, the prince simply glanced down, his expression sullen.

"I’ve no interested in your gloating." He said.

The silver haired girl raised an eyebrow. Her mouth curved upwards in a bemused smirk. "Why would I gloat? It was a rather clever prank. Regardless, it was not I who did it."

The prince’s fists clenched. His knuckles turning white as he looked up at her, his grey eyes glaring. "Yet you snickered all the same, you all laughed at my expense! I cannot forget what you all did to me, how you all..." His voice trailed off, his gaze falling to his fists. When he looked back at her, there were fresh dampness under his cheeks as his expression turn bitter.

“Leave. I should not like you reporting back to your brothers the details of my misery.” His voice a low warning.

“I had no intention to.” Visenya raised her brow, her arms folded. As she looked upon the prince she couldn’t help feeling a flicker of pity, his gaze so bitter… so wrathful. She sighed, coming down to sit beside him.

“It was a mere jest. Do not tear yourself to bits over it. Your thoughts are far harsher than the truth of it.” Her attempt at sympathy making her cringe.

“You know nothing of my thoughts!” Aemond snapped.

The air settled between them for a moment, the silence brutal as she looked to him, her hand hesitantly placing itself on his shoulder. Aemond snapped his head, his eyes narrowing as he brushed her hand away.

“I do not need your pity.” His tone curt.

The princess rose, scoffing as she extended her hand to him below. “Get up.” She spoke promptly.

His face coiled with both refusal and confusion. “What?” He snapped.

“I said, get up. If you do not need my pity, so be it. But I cannot stand to listen to your whining any longer. Come, I am visiting Silverwing, and you shall be my torch bearer.” She smiled mischievously, her hand lifting him up, then walking to another torch mounted on the stone walls, using it’s flame to set hers alight.

Visenya walked back, forcing the rough trunk of wood into his hand. “No- “His voice grating as she then shoved her hand upon his mouth. His eyes wide with shock as she crooned into his face.

“Enough of your sulking. Come. You wish for a Dragon, no? Then you ought to learn how to tend to one.”

She pulled him with her, further into the dark caverns of the Dragonpit until they came to Silverwing’s lair. “Silverwing, māzigon naejot nyke.” Visenya cooed.  Silverwing, come to me.

The sudden shake of the earth bellow accompanied the grumbling of the large beast, her silver scales gleaming by the flickering torch light. Visenya turned, glancing at Aemond, his eyes like moons boring into her dragon.

She watched as he stepped back, his neck tilting upwards, the breeze hitting his silver hair. A smug smile came to Visenya’s lips as she turned to Aemond. His face was still set in stone, his gaze hardening as he watched the great beast. "So," the princess prompted, "Are you going to pet her? Or shall you remain sulking?”

Aemond's lips parted, he was about to make a snide remark before sighing. "Of course not." He walked closer to the dragon, standing a few feet away from her. The beast was enormous, the sheer size of her body dominating the wide cave, her lithe yet robust frame looming over the two young Targaryen’s. Silverwing's grey head looked down at him, her eyes narrowing. The prince had not stopped to wonder how the dragon would react. Aemond grumbled under his breath, then took a hesitant step forward. He looked at the dragon, its shining silver scales glinting in the dim light, his breathing hitched. The Prince could not help his anxiety, he had never been so close to a dragon before… never felt its hot breath warm his skin. He moved closer, swallowing a ball in his throat.

Aemond had taken another step forward when Silverwing's body rattled with warning, her low growls causing his steps to falter, his hand tightening on the base of the torch. He would not allow himself to look away, he would not show fear, nor would he retreat. The torch cast a long shadow upon the cave walls, Silverwing’s breath rapidly increasing as he moved closer, her nostrils flaring with each exhale. The dragon's eyes did not stray from the young prince, studying his every movement as Visenya let out a soft chuckle, revelling in his rattled stance.

"She shall not bite you." An amused smirk curled upon her lips. "Silverwing, māzigon." she cooed. The dragon's head turned, her eyes focusing on the princess before she did so.

"There, you see?" Visenya asked, she looked over to him, a small part of her finding the utmost enjoyment in the nervous expression he wore. The dragon raised her chin, letting out a soft whisp of hot air from her nostrils.

Visenya’s amusement brought no pleasure to Aemond, his expression taut, his neck tilting up to look at the dragon approaching him. The dragon halted, lowering its head almost appearing as though it were sneering at the young prince. Aemond stilled, taking one step back as Silverwing’s jaw neared him. Visenya’s eyes wide with an intrigue as she watched her dragon interact with her uncle. Silverwing was indeed, sizing him out. Aemond’s chest rose, and with that he stepped back once more, folding his arm as though he were unimpressed with the beast’s size. Silverwing giving out a soft huff as she moved, her large head nudging against Visenya.

“She was Queen Alysanne’s dragon.” Aemond spoke matter-of-factly.

“You know of her histories?” The princess raised her brow.

“Unlike you, I have decidedly taken an interest in our House’s legacy. It apart of our duty.” Aemond replied, firmly.

Visenya scoffed, turning as she sauntered towards him, her arms folded as a smug smile appeared upon her lips. “I am far too busy actually flying and tending to my dragon to have time to reading of other Targaryen’s doing the same.” Her voice haughty.

“I have yet to see you do such a thing.” He furrowed his brow in disbelief.

Aemond watched as Visenya placed a gentle hand upon Silverwing, whispering a soft farewell before they exited her lair, the princess spoke smugly, “Yes, well I do not expect you to pay much attention to my doings. Regardless, I am already rather adapt, Daemon said I did not need a saddle so-“

“Daemon?” Aemond raised his brow, and Visenya shrugged, nonchalantly about the fact. “Yes.”

The young prince furrowed his brow in deep disapproval, his stern demeanour returning as he stopped, Visenya turning as he spoke.

“Uncle should know better than to allow such a thing.” He barked. Visenya stepped forward scoffing. “So? Those bloody Maesters- “

Aemond stepped closer, his voice overlapping hers. “Those Maesters are doing their duty in making sure you are equipped to ride properly. You ought not to be going on saddleless joyrides with Uncle Daemon.” The Prince stared sharply, unyielding.

“Are you to tell on me?” The princess gritted her teeth.

A disenfranchised look came to Aemond’s face, he spoke more like a father scolding his daughter than a boy of her own age “Daemon is not fit to minding you. You are a Princess of the Relam, if anything were to happen-“

Princess Visenya’s eyes widened in both panic and fury, she could not have the precious time she spent with her father ruined by Aemond’s incessant need to dob. “But nothing did happen! If you dare speak a word of this I shall tell my brothers that I had caught you sobbing and sulking in the Dragonpits all by yourself… like a helpless, pathetic babe whining for its mother.” She interrupted.

“Do not dare.” He sneered, his gaze lowering.

“Swear you shall not tell.” Her voice raised, stern. Silence fell between the two as their gazes pierced into each other, they stood opposed in the darkened space. “Swear it.” Her tone sharp.

He said nothing, the silence lingered as he felt his strength faulter. “Fine.”

The two Targaryen’s did not speak again as they walked up out from the Pit’s entrance. Visenya’s eyes expanding in a deep trepidation as she was met with the folded arms of her mother, Rhaneyra’s face stern. “It may please you to know that you’ve had every guard and servant forced to abandon their duties so they may search for you.” Rhaneyra’s voice echoed at the carven entrance, her head tilted downwards as she gazed into the calculatedly soft eyes of her daughter.

“I had told you where I wished to go.” Visenya lowered her gaze in sweet self-admittance as her mother shook her head.

Rhaenyra spoke firmly to remind the young Princess her mother was indeed, well aware of her charmed tongue, often used to evade trouble. "And I had told you no more leisure trips to the Dragonpits without an escort.” Rhaneyra’s doubled down as the young Princess protested. “But mother- “

Rhaneyra’s tone softens as she steps forward, placing a hand upon her daughter's shoulder. “Visenya, I worry for you.”

Visenya turned her head, gesturing to the seemly meek Aemond which stood behind her “But I was not alone. Prince Aemond had accompanied me.” Visenya gave the young prince a narrowing gaze, subliminally signalling for him to nod; he did. The future Queen could not help but tilt her head, a small warmth in her chest as finally, it seemed there may be hope for some level of kinship between her own and Alicent’s children.

Rhaenyra regained focused once more, her voice almost lenient, “Aemond is but a year your prior and the King’s young son no less, tis not his duty to protect you. And while I am glad of the peace the two of you have forged...” Rhaenyra sighed softly, and shook her head a little, clearly unimpressed. “I will not have my only daughter risking her life to get to the Dragonpits, without a proper escort. The streets are most unpredictable, my girl.” She shuddered.

“I did not take the streets.” Visenya protested, a small smile upon her face as though the news would be pleasing to her.

Rhaenyra frowned, stepping forward to Aemond as her concern reignited as she gazed at them both, “You took the passages?" She leaned towards her daughter, her voice hushed so that her half-brother would not hear. "I ought to have the mind to bar you in your chambers until the moon turns!” Rhaneyra's tone hardened once more.

Visenya looked down, her gaze ruminating on the floor as her mother’s tone grew stern, there was a pause; she felt embarrassment coil within her, why must mother do this in front of him, she thought. Rhaenyra sighed as she noted her daughter’s meek demeanour she let her frustration dissipate, she did not dare scold her own child in front of her half-brother.  Aemond noticed the tension ease between them, he remained still, his arms held behind his back as he watched Visenya. Satisfaction bloomed within him; he’d never seen her so… passive.  

Rhaenyra yielded, her tone softening, “You must take an escort, sweet girl. I’ve little desire to strip you of your freedoms, so do not force me to do so.” Visenya looked up, her pale violet eyes meeting those of her mother, Rhaenyra placed a gentle hand upon her daughter’s head, stroking her silver hair.

Visenya gave a small and conceded, “Yes, mother…”

As the moment came to an end, Rhaneyra’s gaze came to the young green prince before her, Alicent’s son… her father’s son… her younger brother.

Aemond shuffled under his sister’s gaze, they had hardly ever spoken all he knew was that she bore bastards, that she was the King’s favoured child. Rhaenyra spoke again, clearing her throat. “Come, the both of you. I fear the Queen, has sent for your whereabouts, Aemond.”

With that, the three Targaryen's took to exit the Dragonpits, not another word was uttered.

○ii○

[two-white-butterflies]

parallel lines | d. targaryen | part eight

Description: An ordinary middle school teacher moves to a desolate town with her fiancee. After suffering episodes of vivid nightmares, she realizes that his uncle looks exactly like the man in her dreams.

Pairings: daemon targaryen/reader, aemond targaryen/reader

Trope: Reincarnation

TW: Murder. Non-Con.

series masterlist |

"If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary You and I go from one kiss to gettin married." - loml, Taylor Swift.

(TARGARYEN RESIDENCE. 2008)

It was a hail mary from the beginning. Two people who had everything to lose, plotting to have more than they could handle. "She must've known." Alicent breathes, playing with the rosary-styled bracelet on her left wrist. "- I told you not to cheap out on the assassins. We'll get the money back anyways." she scolded.

Her grip on the bracelet tightened. Viserys' took a deep breath.

"I did not hire mediocre mercenaries. It was a recommendation from the goddamn Governor of Texas. If you're searching for good mercenaries, you're not gonna find them because people who kill people for a living don't have a moral compass." he gritted his teeth. His anger doubling at every second he spent in his wife's presence.

"I couldn't care less about their moral compass. You should've hired someone who had a follow through." she hissed, glaring at him. "I'm sorry but I'm not the one who wanted Olivia L/N dead." he groaned, standing up and attempting to exit the door.

She stares at the side, the sight of a crucifix snapping her back into reality. "I don't like the role that you're giving me, Viserys." her voice cracked, her fingers dancing along every bead. Along every Hail Mary. Her breath hitched for a second.

Fearing the person that she's become.

He made her this way. He manipulated her, made her believe that the love that they shared was true. He made her fight for every scrap of his love. He made her a monster. Now, she was finally thirty, fifteen would never cross her mind. "You're the one who wanted to give your children part of Aemma's company. I was following your wishes." he tried to flip the table at her.

Our children. She wanted to correct him.

It might've been her idea, but he didn't give her a choice. Her children would live in poverty without the money that Aemma provided. Alicent didn't have a job. She didn't even finish High School, and it was obvious that Viserys wasn't going to be around for long.

"Don't worry about Olivia. She doesn't have the guts to sue us. I hope that you learn to be content with what you've been provided. Not everything has to be handed on a silver spoon." Viserys remarked.

Aemond breathes. "They're fighting again." he spoke through the landline. Fighting was a normal occurrence in the Targaryen Household, it was always about the inheritance.

"Mom ought to accept that the old man isn't gonna leave us a single dime." Aegon chuckled. His older brother long accepted the fact that Viserys hated all his children from his second-marriage.

"- Rhaenyra has always been the golden child. I don't know why we bother." he added with an eye-roll.

Aemond pressed his lips closer to the microphone. "Dad hired someone to kill Aunt Olivia." he dropped the bomb, and the other line answered with silence. "- Mom figured that if Aunt Olivia died, then all the shares would go to Dad, and there'll be enough for us." he whispered, careful not to be heard.

"He'd rather have someone murdered than give us a tiny piece of Rhaenyra's billion dollar inheritance? I study in New York. I should kill Aunt Olive, make Mom proud for once." his lips pressed into a thin line, seriously considering that random thought.

The younger brother responds with a chuckle.

"You won't do that Aegon. You're not actually a murderer." he laughed, thinking that it was his older brother's way of making a joke. Aegon licks his lips. Right, not a murderer.

OLIVIA L/N FOUND DEAD IN AN NYC APARTMENT WITH NO CURRENT SUSPECTS, POLICE SOURCES SAY.

NEW YORK -- Police sources are revealing more details about a murder in Manhattan. They say that the New York City Police Department is currently conducting investigations about possible motives for the crime.

It happened in Upper Manhattan, sources say that the first person that found the body was Ms. Olivia L/N's daughter, then a neighbor that chooses to remain anonymous.

Olivia L/N is the co-founder of Dragonpine Brewery, which has now expanded into different industries including real estate, technology, and pharmaceuticals. She currently owns 49% of Dragonpine Brewery, but all shares are expected to return to Viserys Targaryen, who too, owns 49% of the company.

The medical examiner ruled her death a homicide due to the blunt force trauma to the head, and stab wounds on her stomach.

Anyone with any information is asked to call the NYPD's Crime Stoppers hotline at 1-***-***-TIPS. ALL CALLS ARE KEPT CONFIDENTIAL.

(PRESENT)

Daemon couldn't stop pacing and forth. Luckily, the bullet didn't hit anything important. You could still use your ankle normally in the future, but it would take time to heal.

"It's a medical miracle. It's the first time I've seen it happen." he remarks, trying to calm himself down.

The entire thing was difficult to process. He found it hard to believe that Aemond suddenly lost all semblance of normalcy and broke. "The gun wasn't registered. He could face charges, unless Alicent drives by with her golden chariot and bribes the judge again." he rolled his eyes, unwilling to let his nephew live scot-free.

"I told her about Aemond's past, the case with the girl and Nick. She could've confronted him about it, brought memories that he couldn't handle. He could've been guilty." Rhaenyra suggested, shaking her head. "Where is he?" Daemon's eyes narrowed.

He peeked through the halls, searching for his nephew's familiar silver-gold locks. "Down at the police station. Jace tells me that Aemond's shaken. Unable to form any statement." she adds with a deep breath. Aware that the story was reaching its climax.

"Alicent won't let him speak anyways. Where's Helaena?" he paused, reminded of his youngest niece. "She's babysitting the kids. Daemon, role-calling everyone won't be enough to distract you from Y/N. She's a wall away, I can hear her heart monitor from here." she pointed out.

Clearly as nervous as he was.

"I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe that we're given a second chance at everything, but we're still making the same mistakes." he sat down on the bench beside her.

He wanted to be a better person. Make his life worthwhile, but with the people around him repeating the same mistakes over and over. "I feel like I'm trapped inside a paradox. We'll die, then we'll get reborn and repeat everything again. It's like that show we watched. Are we in the Bad Place?" his eyebrows merged together.

"I don't know, Daemon. It feels like hell, but then I see my sons and I wouldn't trade this life for anything else." she had a bitter smile on her face. A nurse steps out of your room.

Daemon rises to his feet.

"Is she awake?" he inquired.

"No. I don't think that I'm at liberty to say this but - being unconscious for this long isn't normal. They'll do some tests, but I'm sure she'll be fine." the nurse felt inclined to speak out, seeing Daemon's worried face.

"Are you her boyfriend?" the nurse asked.

Rhaenyra's face softened. "It's complicated." she bit her lower lip.

(HARRENHAL.)

TW: NON CON SCENE (WILL STATE WHEN IT'S OVER SO YOU CAN SCROLL DOWN TO IT)

You breathe in the smell of smoke. Harrenhal was a curse.

"You will die here." you whispered, the prophetic visions finally finding solace inside of you, like they've found solace in Alys.

"You dampen the mood." Aemond pours himself a goblet of wine. "- it will not stop me from having my way." he reminded.

"I know." you whispered.

"We won't be needing this," he stated, cutting swiftly through your gown. He was staring at your body with the intensity of a thousand stars - you could've sworn that it was love - but it was not. "Why are you doing this?" you whisper, covering your breasts.

He does not acknowledge the use of your tongue. He ignores you. He presses a kiss to your jaw, inhaling the scent of your jasmine perfume. A prisoner has never lived more lavishly than you. "Riñītsos," he answered, hands trailing down to pull yours away.

"You sleep beside my sister knowing such stain is upon your honor." you gritted your teeth.

"Stomach up." he commanded - eyes twinkling with lust. "Legs open," he added - seeing you in the vulnerable position.

You couldn't remember anything that happened afterwards.

(NON-CON SCENE OVER)

"I care not about what he's done to your husband. I care more about what you had to go through." Alys looked at you in a crestfallen way. She vowed to protect you, but her visions clouded her judgement. Made her believe that Aemond was their savior.

"It'll be the same tomorrow, Alys, unless you can remedy this curse then rid yourself. Leave my presence." you pleaded, unable to stare into her eyes. The same eyes that you looked at in the mirror. "You may think me cold, that all I've ever grown to love is him. I thought that I could control him, but he is like the wind." she shook her head.

"You cannot catch the wind, sister." your breath quivered.

"What I've done is payment for my sins," she started.

You snap out of the trance. Eyes finally meeting hers.

"What did you do?" you asked.

"I killed him." Alys admitted, only then did you realize the streak of blood of her cheek. "I'm sorry." she apologized, falling to the floor.

"I forgive you." you bite the insides of your cheeks.

You've watched your sister hold the enemy softer than she's ever held you. You watch her let peace slip through her fingers. You watch her betray you and you forgive her, because this is the role she must play. You cannot resent the dancer for the actions of the song.

"There will be a boat going to an island near the Ghiscari Empire. I hope that you find peace there." she handed you three dragons. "What about you?" you tilted her head, feeling the tears trickle down your cheeks. "I must stay." she reminded.

It was the last winter that you'd spend with this body. You lived sixty more years without your husband. Now, you were old and frail - there were lines on the sides of your eyes. Wrinkles that weren't there when your husband was still alive.

"Have some tea." Serenei's daughter beckoned.

You complied.

Feeling every bit of your consciousness slip away.

You had a vision the night before, that this would be your last life. You already broke the karmic chains and learnt all your lessons. There was no need to restart the pain and suffering.

But you sharply argued with the gods.

Told them that you had to be reborn. You needed to see Daemon. You needed a life where you could be with him longer, and happier.

The gods granted you that gift.

And thus, here you are again.

Your throat felt dry; like you haven't drank water in a thousand years. You hear the machine beeping beside you. A feeling of someone's hand on top of yours.

You opened your eyes.

"Daemon," you whispered.

"I remember."

next chapter>>

OK THIS LINE

You've watched your sister hold the enemy softer than she's ever held you. You watch her let peace slip through her fingers. You watch her betray you and you forgive her, because this is the role she must play. You cannot resent the dancer for the actions of the song.

WAS COPIED FROM @faiIwife on twitter. IT MADE MY LIFE IM SORRY.

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice (15)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: angst, violence, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

Daemon wasn't sure how he felt about seeing his brother after so many years. He stared at him with his lips tightened, while Rheanerya spoke to him in a reassuring voice, introducing him to their sons. He tried to focus on her words, but all that occupied his thoughts was that his brother would soon die.

His brother was weak, but it was because of his forgiving nature that he still had his head; he knew that any other king would have beheaded him for his disobedience. Viserys, even if he banished him for a few years, always allowed him to return, welcoming him with open arms.

What he thought of his rulership did not matter, for he loved him as a brother.

It was hard for him to see a once completely functional and joyful man lying on his deathbed in a state of partial decomposition of his body.

He was visibly stupefied and this disturbed him.

When he asked him to hand him the tea that laid on the table next to him, he did so without a word, but then a sort of shudder, a premonition passed through him and he sniffed the contents that remained.

Poppy milk.

"Your childhood friend and her father have dulled my brother's mind with fucking poppy milk." He hissed to his niece-wife, who looked at him shocked as they settled a bit further away, so that Viserys, moaning in pain, could not hear them.

Rhaenyra involuntarily placed a hand on her pregnant belly, massaging herself over it, looking around the chamber, her lips tightening. He knew the expression on her face, knew that she was torn and thinking strenuously.

"He will not sit on the throne tomorrow in this state." She said quietly, worried and frightened, Daemon chuckled at her words, shaking his head.

"Of course he won't. That's what they want. They fucking stupefied his mind." He sneered, walking towards one of the large chairs by the extinguished fireplace. He sat on it, rubbing his face with his palm.

His wife sighed quietly and walked over to him, stroking his arm reassuringly. He looked at her wordlessly, grasped her hand and kissed it.

Then Alicent walked into his brother's quarters.

A pompous, proud whore pretending to be a saint.

He looked at her with annoyance and disapproval as she tried to pretend that she was glad to see them and gave them any respect.

When his wife asked her about the poppy milk and the king's health, the queen began to wrestle with the fact that without it his brother would suffer unimaginable pain and it was his will. Daemon rolled his eyes at these words.

"And how is that will expressed? Hm?" He asked, extending his hand in front of him, raising his eyebrows mockingly. "By his moaning and wailing?"

Alicent closed her eyelids, apparently trying not to say anything inappropriate, which only made him even more amused.

She'd always tried to pretend to be noble and unsullied, but he knew women like her well.

They grew bitter and ugly in his eyes from lack of pleasure and fulfilment in life, becoming some kind of spectre.

When she began to speak about unfounded accusations and the grace of her gods, he cut himself off completely, giggling under his breath as he looked at his fingers, deciding that he wasn't going to pay any attention to this nonsense.

He already knew that they would not be able to count on his brother's support and his wife would have to manage on her own.

The next day, seeing Lucerys shaking with stress, he took him aside, grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.

He was no longer a child, but he was not yet a man either.

The worst possible time for such trials, he thought.

"You can't shake when your mother is defending your rights to Driftmark. You have to show strength, not weakness. They will be there accusing you and stirring up mud, and you have to accept it with dignity. Understood?" He asked expectantly, and Luke nodded, pressing his lips into the thin line, all pale. Daemon sighed heavily, placed a hand on his black curls and walked over to his wife, nodding that they were ready.

They steeped the throne room, which was already crowded with people causing confusion around them and loud conversations of the entire court. He saw out of the corner of his eye Otto Hightower standing next to the Iron Throne, ready to sit on it, and smirked under his breath.

He thought that this man would one day burn in the fires of Caraxes, like all his sanctimonious family.

They stood with the whole group to the right of the throne, Rhaenrya saying something quickly over her shoulder to Luke, trying to soothe him with her reassurances, grasping his hand in hers.

He thought she shouldn't do that, show maternal weakness when her son was about to prove himself strong and worthy of his inheritance, but he didn't speak, folding his hands in front of him and sighed quietly, bored.

After a moment, his attention was drawn to a couple who had walked inside through a side entrance to join the Greens. He raised his eyebrows in surprise when he recognised his nephew.

He was a muscular, well-built man, walking with a confident, slow step.

Next to him Jace and Luke looked like a small boys.

His attention was also drawn to his wife.

He thought they were both complete opposites; he stony, his jaw clenched, his posture upright and aggressive. She, on the other hand, had a gentle and warm gaze, walking beside him gracefully and lightly with the quiet rustling of her ornate brown and red gown.

She wore the colours of her home, not her husband's.

He liked it.

Rumours of the circumstances of their betrothal had reached even Dragonstone, raised by Baela during one of their meals together. She learned from her maid, whose sister was a cook in Storm's End, that Lord Borros had tried to hide his youngest daughter from Prince Aemond.

The prince had her brought in, humiliating the lord with his words, saying that he could not count.

He was to kiss each of his daughters several times to see which lips gave him more pleasure, and then, to Lord Baratheon's despair, he was to kidnap his youngest daughter and take her with him to King's Landing.

He suspected that the story was coloured by some female fantasy, but in the end the young prince chose her over her sisters anyway.

Daemon thought that perhaps the prince saw an opportunity to force her to break and submit to him because of her young age and inexperience.

He concluded that he had her wrapped around his finger and probably fucked anything that moved, exactly like his older brother.

He was snapped out of his musings by the entrance of Vaemond Valeryon's, confident, buoyant,with his head held high, he stepped into the centre.

He thought it was pathetic for a man to have to puff himself up like this, to show the people gathered around him his power.

To him it was a sign of inner insecurity and weakness.

He realised with amusement that perhaps the second sons had such a thing after all.

Otto sat down on the Iron Throne, speaking aloud about what matter would be decided and gave Vaemond the right to speak first.

Daemon looked around the hall, not listening completely to what he was saying, raising his eyebrows in a gesture of complete disinterest.

His lineage and pride did not concern him.

Colrys knew perfectly well what Leanor was like.

He knew that Luke was Strong's son, and he had named him his heir anyway.

Colrys was a wise man, understanding that one remembered the name, not the blood.

He only returned with his mind to the events in the hall when his wife stepped forward to give her point of view on the matter.

She did not have time to say anything, however, as his brother stepped into the throne room.

Daemon watched with a clenched throat as his brother, his lifemate, glided slowly down the stairs with difficulty, leaning with a trembling hand on his staff.

Although he had never looked worse, weak, old, ailing, he had never seen such determination in him before either, and he pressed his lips together at the thought.

Viserys loved easy solutions and security.

He loved it when he missed the hard parts, when he didn't have to make morally debilitating decisions.

After he ordered his child to be taken out of Aemma's womb he retreated even further, horrified by his act and its consequences.

Only after Laena's death did Daemon understand what he was going through at the time.

He always wanted to marry Rhaenyra, not Laena. He had asked Viserys for it several times, but he was angered by the proposal, thinking that he wanted to use his daughter to sit on the Iron Throne.

The truth was that he didn't care about the throne.

No one could understand a Targaryen like the other Targaryen.

Nevertheless, his marriage to Laena was surprisingly successful. She and Rhaenyra had been close friends even before they were betrothed, and from what Rhaenyra later told him, they had experienced and explored each other's bodies together wanting to see what gave them pleasure.

Their close intimacy and his weakness for Rhaenyra meant that every time she visited them in their residence in Essos, they ended up in bed together.

Laena understood his complicated feelings towards his his niece and was never jealous.

Because of this he was able to love her and trust her enough to make their daily lives filled with joy and fulfilment.

When she chose to die in the fire he was heartbroken, but he also thought of her with pride.

She was a true dragon.

He felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought and lowered his head, feeling a burning sensation under his eyelids.

If it wasn't for Rhaenyra, he wouldn't have been able to survive this.

They both had to lose someone in order to be reunited for the sake of the fate that they had always been destined for.

He gasped when he heard the loud crash of steel against the ground and saw his brother-king leaning against the staff, his crown lying on the stone floor.

He moved towards him, picked up the crown because of which families had killed and fought each other for centuries and helped his brother sit on the throne.

He placed the it again on his head and looked at him, for the first time in many years recognising that his brother had risen to the occasion.

From that moment on everything took the opposite turn to what Otto had planned.

The betrothal of Rhaenyra's sons to his daughters meant that one way or another, Velaryon blood would flow in their descendants.

Vaemond was panting with rage, but he knew the cause was lost to him.

Viserys upheld the right of inheritance of Driftmark accruing to Luke.

Then Vaemond lost his temper.

Daemon felt a trembling and excitement inside him that he had not felt for a long time, he placed his hand on the hilt of his Black Sister as Vaemond began to speak, but stammered.

There was complete silence all around them.

"− say it −" He whispered mischievously, a grin full of anticipation on his face.

"− her children…−" Vaemond began, looking at him with a smile full of contentment and serenity that amused him even more.

"−… are BASTARDS!!!!! −" He shouted in such a way that saliva flew out of his mouth, like the muzzle of a dog starting to bark. He turned to look at the enraged, shocked king.

"And she… is… a whore."

All around them he heard whispers and sounds of horror, everyone knew that what he had said was treason.

He didn't think on what he was doing when in one, soundless movement he took out his Black Sister and with a sure, sharp cut sliced Vaemon's head in half, his body falling involuntarily to the ground.

Hearing the squeals and screams of those gathered around him he smiled under his breath, as he looked proudly at his handiwork, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword.

"He can keep his tongue."

Then it was time for the supper ordered by his brother. He had no desire for it, but recognised that it might be his last wish and he did not intend to leave Rhaenyra alone to be devoured, so he sat down at the table with everyone.

When the queen ordered them to pray, mentioning Vaemond in addition, he looked up at the ceiling with disbelief, shaking his head, thinking that Alicent would surely become a saint in his lifetime.

This was followed by a speech from his brother, a few toasts and finally something to eat. He was starving, he hadn't eaten anything since the morning and hoped that in two hours he could already be in his bed with his wife.

He watched with amusement as Jace, Luke, Aegon and Aemond teased each other, wrestling for glances like young roosters intent on proving to each other which was the leader of the pack.

He almost burst into laughter when he saw Jace rise his cup for his uncles health and then ask Haleana to dance, surprised to see that he was not the only one smiling at the sight.

His nephew's pretty wife was looking at the dancing couple with a smirk full of satisfaction that made him curious.

He considered that perhaps she was not after all such an empty little bird as he had thought her to be.

Then he saw that her husband had spoken to her for the first time during the entire feast, apparently noticing what he did, except that he didn't like it.

He saw her answer him something quickly, looking at him with furrowed brows, bravely not lowering her gaze, her chest rising anxiously.

He raised his eyebrow as he saw her husband's hand slide from her knee between her thighs, watching how quickly his wife tightened her hand on his arm, her husband only chuckled at her helpless attempts to stop him.

He thought that the she would cry out from humiliation, terrified, but she stared at her husband in such a way that he was suddenly enlightened.

This was no act of rape against her or display of his cruelty.

They were desiring each other.

He decided amusedly that he would interrupt this fun for them, so he stood up, meeting his wife's surprised gaze and whispered to her that he would be right back.

Rhaenyra turned to continue speaking with her father and he circled the table, walking slowly towards her. He saw, holding back a wide grin, that they hadn't even noticed him, busy with themselves.

He restrained himself with the rest of his strength not to chuckle low when his nephew quickly slid his hand out from between his wife's thighs, shocked and horrified by his presence, his wife looked at him equally surprised, all red and hot.

They looked like lovers caught in the act of rapture.

"My lady." He said softly.

He held out his palm to her, and she looked at her husband questioningly. When he did not speak, turning his head away furiously, his wife gave him her hand and they moved slowly towards the dancing couple.

They spun to the rhythm of the music, their hands touched.

He thought that she had very soft, warm skin.

"Your husband doesn't seem to handle you gently." He murmured, and she threw him a quick, surprised look. She lowered her gaze, confused; he could see that she was having trouble looking him in the face.

There was something bright and piercing in her eyes, he knew that she was just analysing his words and what he was doing.

They turned, his hand on her shoulder, barely touching the sleeve of her gown.

He did not want to frighten her, to let her think that he would treat her like Aegon.

He wanted to see how much he could get out of her, whether the Prince of Aemond was the same as his brother.

Finally she lifted her gaze to him, already a little more confident.

"My husband has a complicated character, as I think all Targaryens do." She said softly, and he laughed involuntarily at her words, so apt and true.

He hummed as they switched places, turning, their hands touching again in dance, he felt a shiver pass through her and grinned at the sight.

She was sharper than one might think.

The precious jewel that Lord Borros was trying to keep for himself was clearly worth the price.

He thought that he had been wrong in his assessment of her.

She was not like Alicent.

She didn't pretend to be someone she wasn't, the truth came out of her mouth and eyes. He began to think that perhaps his nephew had not chosen her as his wife at all because he wanted to train her like a dog, but because she pulsated with life and a strong will.

Fire and Water.

"I'm not surprised that your husband stole you from Storm's End." He said finally and felt her quiver all over, looking at him uncertainly, her eyes big and warm.

He thought with surprise that his words had aroused her, but he wasn't sure why.

Perhaps it was because there were words of truth in the rumours.

Her husband had stolen her from her father because he craved her.

They bowed to each other and returned to their seats without bestowing a glance on each other. His wife looked at him softly, placing her hand on his, and he kissed her palm, closing his eyes, smelling her pleasant, familiar scent.

"She seems a nice young lady. Could you pass me a piece of cake?" She said lightly, pointing to a platter nearby, and he nodded, placing a piece on her plate.

"Yes, she's surprisingly clever. I think she managed to tame a dragon." He hummed, glancing at his nephew who had just furiously rejected his wife's hand, his mouth hissing out a few words.

"Don't touch me."

Daemon raised his eyebrows in amusement, putting the platter back in place, Rhaenyra busied herself eating.

"A dragon?" She asked with interest, wiping the corner of her mouth clean of crumbs.

"Your half-brother with one eye." He muttered, grabbing his goblet and taking a long sip of wine from it.

He looked with interest at the prince who suddenly stood up, informing them matter-of-factly that his wife was unwell and he would escort her to her chamber.

He almost choked on his wine on hearing this confession and led them away with a look of utter disbelief.

He was so jealous that he needed to fuck her now.

He fought the thought of going out after them, of covering them and humiliating them, of seeing their faces, but decided that he would let them have their fun.

His wife cocked her head, returning to the subject he had brought up earlier, finishing the piece of cake she had just eaten.

"What did you mean when you said that she tamed him?" She hummed, intrigued apparently by his discovery. He looked at her, grinning.

"Her husband is completely obsessed with her."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics

Others: @dreamymoomin @thedamewithabook @dc-marvel-girl96 @zillahvathek @helaenaluvr @tssf-imagines @heavenly1927 @hiatuswhore @it-is-getting-better @linkpk88 @luna-salem @toodlesxcuddles @happinessinthebeing @siriusblackrunmeover17 @alaaaaaaa @ladybug0095 @barbiegirlaemond @random-ocity @whoknows333

[thefangdomcryptid]

Eve Charactersheet

Multifandom Edition

Masterlist (Coming soon)

Character name: Eve de Lioncourt (née Eve Archidamou)

Quote: "Zeus may have healed my scars and my mangled hands, but the pain within my soul, the suffering within my very essence never allows me any respite. For over 3000 years I have relived my trauma as if it happened to me yesterday."

Race: Albino Snow Wereleopard.

Gender: Female

Orientation: Panromantic Graysexual

Pairings:

Baldur's Gate 3: Astarion/Minthara as main romances.

House of The Dragon: Aemond/Daemon Targaryen

The Originals: Klaus/Elijah Mikaelson

Age:

3000+ years old. Her human age is based on modern viewpoints meaning she became of marrying age when she was 18, and when she accepted Zeus' gift, she was 21.

Place of Residence:

Baldur's Gate

New York (pre Faerun)

Konigswald (Near the German-Swiss border, Black Forest region)

Deity: Unaligned *before that, her parents worshipped Aphrodite. After their untimely deaths and Eve's abduction, she served Hera.*

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral/True Neutral

Personality:

MBTI: ENFP (Campaigner).

Enneagram: Type 4 (The individualist)

OCEAN: 96, 62.5, 67, 44, 40

Character Archetype: Explorer

Star sign: Pisces

Jobs: Bard, Healer, Midwife.

Musical Proficiencies: Harp, flute, lute, lyre, hurdy gurdy, hand drum, violin, piano, guitar (acoustic and electric), bass guitar, drums, singing and Kulning/Jodeling.

Language Proficiencies:

Ancient tongues: Ancient Greek, Latin, Germanic, Basque, Icelandic, Gaelic, Finnish, Sanskrit, Persian.

Modern Tongues: Greek, Dutch, Flemish, French, German, Spanish, Portuguese, English, Danish, Norwegian, Swedish, Icelandic, Finnish, Russian.

Currently learning (not proficient yet): Japanese, Chinese, Arabic.

Powers and Abilities

Eve’s powers include but are not limited to:

Shapeshifting: Can shapeshift at will without needing the sun or moon, she is aware and in control when in their werecat form. In human form, they retain all the same powers they have when in cat form.

Superhuman strength: Eve possess superhuman strength sufficient to lift about 10 tons, enough force to deform a 1-inch-thick steel bar with ease. Her physical strength also extends, to a lesser degree, to powerful leg muscles allowing her to perform a standing jump of 12 feet in height.

Superhuman stealth: Ninjas have nothing on Eve. If she has your scent, and you are on the menu, you’ll never see or hear her coming, not in human form and not in cat form.

Superhuman speed: Eve could outrun a regular Cheetah if she wanted to (known to run as fast as 70 miles per hour) by speeds as high as 80 to 90 mph.

Superhuman senses: Eve’s senses are about fifteen times stronger than an average human and 7,5 times more potent than an average cat. She has no problems finding her way in the dark, seeing as well as if it were daylight. Her hearing is so acute, Eve can hear a pin drop at a range of 50 feet, even if other noises are surrounding them. Her sense of smell is highly developed; it’s easy for her to sort through various odors to follow a target’s trail. She can even tell a person is lying due to subtle scent changes in the composition of sweat. Eve’s also very acutely aware of other people’s moods.

Superhuman reflexes: Again, ninja-like reflexes, the finest athlete and warrior to ever exist.

Superhuman agility:  Her agility, balance, and bodily coordination are beyond that of even the finest athletes.

Healing ability: Due to her immortal status injuries she sustains cannot kill her and she heals immediately.

Claws: In human form, Eve has retractable claws and teeth.

Charm: Eve is the only Albino Snow Leopard in existence that can persuade human beings and animals to do her bidding with her voice, if she so chooses. Never having to pay for designer clothes for one, or always having free meals, that sort of thing.

Fireproof: Eve is immune to fire. She doesn’t burn, no matter how hot the fire is, she can’t be harmed by hot pokers, and she can’t be branded.

Bio

Eve was born in Athens to wealthy parents, also known as Aristoi, making her Greek nobility. Her parents had trouble conceiving and turned to their patron deity Aphrodite for help, who then blessed the family with a daugher that had a beauty that could rival her own.

When Eve came of marrying age, tragedy struck her family, and Eve was abducted by a wealthy brothel owner and her household decimated. For two years, the man did and let other people do unspeakable things to her, until Zeus, in the guise of a young wealthy patron paid the man a wealthy sum to hire her services as a hetaira.

When he revealed himself as Zeus, after gaining her trust, he offered her immortality and powers in exchange for her becoming one of his wives. Stuck between a God's offer and the risk of his wifes' wrath or certain death if she went back, Eve accepted his offer. Besides immortality, he gave her the ability to shapeshift into an animal he thought fit her, which was an Albino Snow Leopard, so he could sneak her into Olympus without Hera noticing. While being okay with that power, and Zeus restoring her body and hands to their original unharmed state, Eve negotiated two other powers: The ability to charm people and animals with her voice, and she wanted to be fireproof, both powers in relation to her trauma. Zeus agreed, but made it so she could only charm humans and animals. After all, he couldn't have her charming him.

Soon enough Hera showed up on her doorstep. While she was furious, she saw an opportunity to get back at her husband and to grant Eve her revenge on her previous captor. While she granted Eve superior agility, speed, reflexes, strength and better senses than her animal counterpart, she also left behind a few not so nice surprises Eve would eventually discover on her own.

After enacting her revenge, Eve stayed at Hera's side until the Greek Pantheon fell and Hera set her free so she could find her own way in the world.

Portal to the Forgotten Realms

In a desperate attempt to be together with Elijah Mikaelson and to be rid of Klaus, Eve travels to New Orleans to find anything that can help.

As she explores the French Quarter, a small shop catches her eye, tucked away between a bookstore and an antiques dealer. There was a strange energy radiating from it, and Eve notices that no one seemed to be aware of its presence there, save for her. Intrigued and drawn to it, she enters the building, the door creaking open and the ring of a little brass bell chiming through the space alerting whomever owns the shop that a new customer has arrived. When no one shows, Eve decides to browse it on her own.

The shop itself seems to be a lot more spacious on the inside than it looked on the outside, and while the outside didn’t give anything away, the inside seemed to be an art gallery of some sort, with pristine white walls covered in paintings of all shapes, sizes and subjects. There were also easels of differing sizes, displaying artworks as well.

“Klaus would love this place,” she mutters to herself, her eyes scanning the art.

As she moves through the space, a canvas set on an easel catches her eye. It’s an oil painting named “The Forgotten Realms,” and depicts a big, lively city surrounded by water. As she studies the artwork, it feels like it’s alive, as if it’s moving in front of Eve’s eyes. Fascinated, she reaches out to touch the canvas, and her fingers make contact, the surface ripples as if it’s water, its watery tendrils snaking around her hand and arm, forcefully dragging her through the surface. Eve leans back, pulling and tugging against the tendrils to break herself free, to no avail. Eve is yanked through, tossed about, twisted and turned around as if she’s in a centrifuge, and then spat out on a beach near what is known in Faerun as Wyrm’s Crossing, between Rivington and Baldur’s Gate.

With no clue where she landed and no knowledge of the customs, religion or the people, she wanders into Rivington. Her attire earns her some strange looks, so with her ability to charm people, she gets herself some clothes, money and food. She finds her way into the city, securing herself a place to stay, and while she tries to find a way home, earns her keep as a bard, until she is abducted by a Nautiloid, waking up on the beach near Emerald Grove soon after.

Dark urge

The Dark Urge in my version of the game is dead, murdered by Orin in her chambers. When Eve lands in Westeros, with her bloodlust, Bhaal senses her presence, and knows her to be his true heir, even though she is not from the same plane of existence, and she is immortal, which Bhaal cannot change. That of course, doesn’t matter to the God, because he wants her all the same, given that she who travels between dimensions could make his grand plan even grander.

At first, Eve doesn’t feel any different, until she kills for the first time to sate her urge, and it isn’t enough, as if her desires have been amplified, voices in her head whispering to her to kill, to spill blood.

There’s two ways this can go: Eve resists the urge, breaking free from Bhaal’s plan for her, or she is seduced by his darkness and embraces her future of bloodlust.

Targaryen Chronicles ( Werecat AU)

Instead of going to New Orleans, Eve puts her trust in Elijah, who is working tirelessly for them to be together. When he chooses to save Klaus during the sun and moon ritual in Mystic Falls, Eve, feeling heartbroken and betrayed decides to leave, wearing an amulet made by Bonnie to ensure no one can use magical means to find her.

For about a year, Eve travels the world, and then settles down in Konigswald, a small city in the Black Forest near the German Swiss border. This is where she meets the Targaryen family (mainly Aemond, Daemon and Aegon) for the first time. They're immortal like her, chosen by their God to serve back in the day, and natural born Albino Snow Wereleopards.