#dragon queen fanfiction

[daemontargaryenwhore]

Aegon II: My father named me as his heir

Otto:

[l-uminescent]

˚⁀➷｡˚ KINSLAYER ━━━ AEMOND TARGARYEN X FEM! READER

part two.

synopsis: rhaenyra’s daughter seeks revenge for the death of her beloved younger brother lucerys velaryon. and what better way to gain it, than from the man she was once betrothed to.

notes: did i steal daemon’s plot? yes. did the reader do it better? also yes. fuck aemond targaryen (who is 22 here) for killing lucerys fr, and fuck tumblr for making me repost this bc they shadowbanned me :(

warnings: reader is rhaenyra’s daughter, angst, violence, mention of blood, future hotd spoiler (battle above the gods eye)

word count: 3.9k

ONCE UPON A TIME YOU HAD THOUGHT YOU HAD KNOWN WHAT LOVE HAD FELT LIKE. being betrothed to none over than aemond targaryen in an attempt to ensure peace between the divided targaryen house, had gave you a sense of hope. the childish crush you had on the one-eyed prince had long exceeded into your adulthood (unbeknownst to you for a long while). and the news that you were to be married to the man you had felt so deeply for, had you thanking the gods that you were to be so lucky. 

for much of your adulthood, you denied the feelings you had for aemond. brushing the giddiness you felt when you were younger off as a fleeting childhood crush. now, the crimson paint that adorned your cheeks you put down to a sense of duty; you had to act the blushing bride in order to do your part for the realm. your mother's constant reminders that it was you who could maintain the peace between dragons, made you believe it was a sense of duty to your house; to prevent the bloodshed and the path to destruction that would follow if blood was spilt. as time went on, you begrudgingly admitted to yourself that maybe, just maybe, the small minuscule crush you had on the prince, in fact never left. you often reflected on the times where you had lived in king's landing with your family, often choosing to spend time with the second son of the king. you two were inseparable, where aemond went you were sure to not be too far behind. often, challenging each other on who would learn the most high valyrian words in a day, and who would learn the history of their ancestors first. it was a match the gods intended.

however, this sue for peace had crumbled completely. only a mere memory in your mind of what could have been if the targayren house was not so ignorant to the fact that women had much of a right to ascend the throne (you had king jaehaerys to uphold much of the blame for this decision). and now, the house was at war with one another. the dance of the dragons was surely to follow, leaving nothing but war across the realm and your poor broken heart.

the death of your brother lucerys did not seem to help with the feeling of heartbreak that effected life upon dragonstone. you spent many days and nights cooped up in your chambers. there was no one to turn too. yes, you sought comfort with your mother but she too was a shell of her former self. with jacaerys many miles north in winterfell, and your husband the murderer of such an innocent boy, you were left with nothing but your own reckless thoughts. as the sun rose in the east and set in the west day after day, your pain and suffering festered into a new, dark feeling within you. the sadness within was replaced with a craving of utter revenge. the lovesick girl, eyes wide with care and awe was shattered, replaced by a woman no, a dragon, who would go to any means to avenge the cruel death of her sweet younger brother. the love you had felt for the man you once were engaged to disappeared the moment you had learnt what he done; marring any chances at evading the war that was surely to follow. you swore to seek revenge with fire and blood. in whatever means the gods meant it to happen. 

━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━

the small council met as the sun lays lazily high in the sky, providing the normally dark and gloomy room with a sliver of light that is often uncommon on the island of dragonstone home to dreary weather most of the time. you welcome the sun in all its glory, soaking it in as you stand next to your brother jacaerys as you listen to the squabbles between the men as they discuss the course of action to take next. small crescents dawned under your eyes, reflecting the many sleepless nights you have come to known. the tiredness you feel currently now and all throughout the days since luke's passing has become an old friend to you, one that is begrudging to leave. you tune out, the effects of another sleepless night and your lack of interest in the bickering that is beginning to fester amongst the lords and your mother is boring you. instead, your eyes are captured by the ball of fire that lay millions of miles away. you weren't all that religious, if it came down to it you preferred the valyrian or old gods in favour of the seven. but there was no doubt the glistening embers that rained upon the room was a good omen. you were sure lucerys was looking down upon you, he adored the few sunny days on dragonstone, and this brought a small smile to your face. 

you hadn't realised just how deep in thought you were until your brothers voice broke you out of whatever hazy trance you were. despite tuning out, you had gathered the basics of the discussion - ser criston cole had set his eyes on rooks rest, and a dragon was needed to defend the castle. jacaerys' proposition to fly vermax was quickly shut down by your mother, deeming the boy as too inexperienced in battle and the dragon too young. 

"i will go." 

the words escaped your lips before you even had a chance to think them through properly. the feeling of revenge running through your veins was more than enough to spark this confident outburst. it had to be you who would go to rooks rest. you did not understand why this feeling was so apparent, whether it be the good omen in the sky, or the smile that had graced your lips for the first time in many moons at the thought of your brother being the one who sent it. but the need to take seat upon your dragon silverwing and fly to rooks rest settled in your soul as a desire you needed to fulfil. you knew immediately your mother would never agree to this, already refusing jacaerys to go meant there was absolutely no possibility she would let you go. 

"no. you too lack the experience that is needed in battle. i will not lose another child to this war." rhaenyra's voice trembled slightly with the mentioning of lucerys but she held strong with her decision to not let either of her elder children fly to battle. the mentioning of luke only feeding the fire in your blood, the need to seek revenge for his passing. 

looking up at your mother, you knew she had understood this as it was plainly evident on your face. alas, rhaenyra could not deny you had your mother's stubbornness and your father's strength. "mother, the entire council knows it is far too dangerous to risk the lives of both you and jace. queen and heir. send me, your grace. silverwing is used to battle and if war and bloodshed is sure to follow with the greens still bot bending the knee to you, then we must become acquainted with it." 

her eyes softened as she gazed upon yours, you reminded her so much of herself in her youth. the fire that burned within you mirrored that of hers. the want to prove yourself as more as weak was apparent, when many men had deemed you fragile due to the gender you were born as, you felt the urge to prove them wrong, just as your mother had felt, still feels with the many lords at the council who still see her as the weaker sex. she knew you were going to fly to battle whether she permitted you leave or not. and with a slight of her head you knew her answer. her lilac eyes gazing into yours with such intensity you knew the message conveyed. be safe, sweet girl.

another voice a the council spoke up, one you weren't expecting to hear. your grandmother, rhaenys. "you must send me as well, your grace. meleys is no stranger to battle, like silverwing. two dragons will be better than one, if the greens decide to also send a dragon to battle."

you were shocked that your grandmother was to fight so willingly for your mother's claim to the throne but yet, the more you pondered the less surprised you were. she too was a woman who should have ascended the throne, the queen who never was, yet king jaehaerys passed over her claim as a count of being weak as she was a woman. gods you hated the man sometimes. 

you were no stranger to the care of your grandmother. she knew straight away that her son was not actually your father, you were born a bastard, fathered to ser harwin strong yet she loved you nevertheless. just as coryls velaryon had favoured young luke, rhaenys, favoured you. your dark her reminded her much of her mother jocelyn baratheon and the way in which you clung to her as a child reminded her so much of leanor. she had grown to love you as you her, and refused to see you alone on the battlefield. 

"come granddaughter, we have much to prepare." rhaenys spoke softly as your mother dismissed the council, guiding you with her hand on the small of your back. giving one last nod to your mother, you notice the look of such fierce love in her. the promise of suffering she would bring if you were hurt. yet, the only thing rhaeynra could do now is pray to the gods above that her only girl would return to her safely. and by the gods she did.

━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━

silverwing was just as mesmerising as the day you claimed her at the tender age of  ten and three. her silvery scales often reminded you of the stars that hung from the sky. glistening intently as you often sat at your window deep in thought. such a docile creature, you could not help but fall in love with her kind nature; a dragon who was most friendly to strangers. as you approached her now a small smile once again graced your lips. the she dragon bent down to greet you, pressing her snout to your hand in a sign of understanding. the intelligence of the dragon was also something that had drawn you to her, she was able to sense every emotion you felt. she had known you were grieving and did not hold it against you that you had neglected to visit her. instead, she blew smoke from her nostrils, and you could have sworn she wore a toothy grin. silverwing was glad you had returned to her. 

flying your dragon had somewhat eased the dull ache that seemed to have made a permanent home in your heart. the ocean beneath you and the wind in your hair brought a sense of relief. this was home. you had miss flying your dragon across the realm, watching as the landscape beneath you changed from countryside, to villages, to oceans and to cities. it was freeing. as fast as she was, silverwing was no match for the speed in which meleys, your grandmother's dragon, flew. as she soared effortlessly through the sky, your dragon tried her hardest to keep up. 

"don't push yourself silverwing. meleys is a fast dragon. " you uttered calmingly to your dragon in high valyrian, stroking her scales softly in a show of comfort. oh how you missed speaking the language too. "calm my sweet girl, it will be okay."

as you finally caught up to rhaenys, the two dragons held pace with one another as you surveyed the fields below. ser criston cole's army had been spotted approaching rooks rest. the elder women held your eyes. a message passing through the two of you to get this done as quickly as possible. and with a cry, meleys delved to the army, silverwing not far behind her

a mix of anxiety and adrenaline coursed through your veins. you were petrified at failing the mission and returning to your mother's disappointed face with the castle in the hands of the greens. yet the pure adrenaline of gaining your revenge from those who supported the man who usurped your mother's throne and took your brother urged you to keep going "attack silverwing." you called out causing the dragon to plummet to the ground to attack those below.

the field that was once riddled with soldiers was now nothing but flame and smoke. red heat from the lips of your dragon had engulfed almost the entirety of the battlefield. the flames below you were nothing of the flickering of the candles in dragonstone that brought you comfort. no, the flames you caused mirrored the emotion inside, the intensity of the anger you felt, the betrayal from the man you once loved to cause this amount of pain. 

a sound you had not heard in a long time broke you out of your rage induced comatose. you froze, the greens had come for you. looking up, you recognised the gleaming golden dragon belonging to the usurper king aegon. sunfyre. your anger had only intensified at the man willing himself to fight against you and your grandmother. doubling around the castle, silverwing dipped her sharpened claws into the ocean's water, ensuring a clean cut against sunfyre before rising above the cliffs face, ready for battle. he was no match for that of silverwing and meleys.

despite the adrenaline within, you could not help but worry for your grandmother, as you watched the flames engulf both her and aegon as the dance begun. the women held a dear place in your heart and the image of her being hurt was enough to push you to attack the sun kissed dragon. flying to meet your grandmother, silverwing allowed herself to flip and glide between the flames aimed at you both. the bellows of aegon left a satisfying smirk upon your lips as meleys claws took hold within the belly of the enemy dragon, as you willed silverwing to attack the dragon's wings from above. clawing and scratching at sunfyre, silverwing and meleys both have seemed to have done immense damage to the golden beauty. chunks of the dragons wings had been ripped out and cuts adorned her body, red blood oozing out of her scales. the final blow had been dealt by your grandmother, yet war was far from over as a sickening roar had been heard beyond the trees.

aemond taragaryen had come out to play.

your breath hitched, letting you only to take only shallow breathes as vhagar descended from the trees. you tried to be brave, tried to hold back the tears that were evident in your glassy eyes yet you couldn't. tear drops sprung like rivers cascading down your terror-stricken face as you saw the shining silver hair of the man who had once been the love of your life, and subsequently the reasoning behind all your pain. wrapping the leather reigns that kept you in control of your dragon, you urged her to continue flying around rooks rest. the wind blew harshly as you circled the ashy landscape, drying your tears and making whatever was left stick to your reddened face. as vhagar descended upon the battle in the sky,  hought's swam through your head as you shouted at your dragon to attack, you wished away all feelings of dread. 

in that sliver of calm, you could not help but feel drawn to the sun as it had once again graced you with its appearance. and with lucerys velaryon looking down on you, you knew the gods wanted you to have your revenge in that moment. they had brought aemond to the battle for a reason after all.

flying up to sit side by side with rhaenys, you allowed the hatred in your heart to take over. the fire in your blood burned at the audacity for aemond to dare show his face after all that he had done. 

"it has to be me grandmother." you shouted over the howling winds in high valyrian. the distaste within had spoken clearly, it had to be you who destroyed the man in front of you. you knew rhaneys understood that, but you also knew she carried the same stubborn nature that all targaryen's had come to possess. plowing into vhagar first, it was obvious she was no match for the queen of dragons. sending waves of fire to the boy riding her, melyes took the moment of distraction to tear at the beast's stomach. 

unbeknownst to you, sunfyre had risen again at the sound of vhagar's approach. seeing the flame grown in the dragon's mouth, rhaneys abandoned the attack on the larger dragon, instead focusing on the dragon mere inches from you. ambushing her from the side, meleys' jaws clamp around the neck of the usurper's dragon. in a state of shock, you forced silverwing to the side, gratefulness gracing your features at your saviour. 

nonetheless, it was plain to see that both meleys and silverwing did not hold enough power to over through the two dragon's that had come to fight. with rhaenys preoccupied with the second coming of sunfyre and aegon, it had left you with the battled against  vhagar. having lived centuries you knew that you were no match for her. she had helped with aegon the conqueror's conquest and that alone had gained her much more experience in battle than your dragon would ever come to know.

reality kicked in like a knife to your stomach. understanding what you had to do sent shivers down your spine, but there was no other way.  to kill the dragon you must kill the rider. 

your mind flickered back to the many moments you had spent with aemond over the years. sneaking into one another's chambers at night to tell stories you have read in history books. the days spent in the garden giggling at the idiocy of your family. and as the two of you got older, you recounted the longing gazes in one another's directions, the stammering and blush that rose to your cheeks anytime he was near. the brushing of limbs at the feast as your grandsire had announced the betrothal. 

none of that mattered now. he had made his choice when he decided to slay his kin and you had made yours. 

gazing upon silverwing properly for the last time you spoke quietly "forgive me, comfort my mother when i am gone. i beg of you." the silver beauty squeaked in return, a note of sadness in her tone. she would miss you just as much as she missed queen alyssane, but she would honour your choice gallantly. "fly back to dragonstone when i am gone. i do not wish you to suffer the same fate, my love."

with your mind made up, you willed your dragon to fly to meet aemond and vhagar taking in a shaky breathe as you did. as silverwing glided through the air, her claw's tore through vhagar. nevertheless, the silver beauty had barely left any damage. vhagar's thick skin was almost impenetrable, only small surface wound were left behind from the attacks you inflicted on her. the only thing that kept you alive was your dragon's ability to stray so close to vhagar yet slip effortlessly beyond her reach whenever her jaws made an attempt to kill you both. 

allowing silverwing to deal with vhagar, meant that you were left to deal with her rider; your glassy eyes never leaving  the man who had caused you such suffering. he had grown you noted, his cheeks now hollowed out as if he has been struggling to eat, a dark crescent clear under his one good eye. the hate in your heart weakened, you had almost felt an ounce of sympathy at his obviously heartbroken state. you wondered if he had regretted his actions; had regretted pushing you away. you wondered if he blamed himself for what had happened that night, if he had really meant to kill luke on purpose. but you also knew you would wonder these things for the rest of your life if you let him live. no matter how much remorse he truly felt within you could never forget his actions, the way in which he took pride in what he did, bragging about being the first to spill blood in this horrific war. and that was enough for you to keep fighting.

pulling away from vhagar for a final time, you flew back around the castle unstrapping the saddle you had on silverwing, tossing it to the wind. unstrapping the sword, daemon had given you from your twentieth name day, you held it in your palm with such force that your knuckles began to whiten. as silverwing set her sights on vhagar once more, a final sound of pain came from your dragon as she knew what you had planned to do. knowing there was no way in changing your mind she flew above the dragon and its rider, positioning you perfectly in what you aimed to do. 

holding onto one of the many talons in her back, you allowed yourself to stand upon your dragon's back, the sword still tight in your hand. your eyes had never left that of the icy lilac that sat below you. the mix of fear and understanding stood in his, as he knew what you were about to do a second too late. the shock of realisation came as he tried to unfasten the straps that kept him tied to vhagar. she was too big of a dragon to move in time for what you were about to bestow upon the targaryen prince, and it was too high of a jump for him to survive.  

jumping from your dragon's back you let your mind to once again reflect all the love you had for aemond taragaryen. allowing yourself to find comfort in the fact that you had known love in your lifetime.

and as you drew the sword through him, you felt no remorse. a debt had been payed. revenge had been served. for luke.

but, there was no escaping the torment your heart inflicted upon you in the moment your sword pierced his only good eye. you had thought aemond would hold loathing at what you had done in his final moments, but all he felt was abhorrence for himself. driving you to the point of sorrow and grief where you had felt like you could do nothing more than seek revenge for what he had done. whispering a soft "i love you'' before you had pierced him, gave you the closure you had needed. those three words had answered all the questions that had played over and over in your mind, running rampant through your darkest hours.

the history books recalled that you had died peacefully with no call of a dragon to save you. you had plummeted to the ground with the man you had loved, knowing you had avenged your sweet innocent brother lucerys and had come to learn aemond had regretted his actions dearly. this was truly enough for you to die happily. and that you did.

[chloe-skywalker]

Daughter Like Mother - Cregan Stark / Rhaenyra Targaryen

Rhaenyra x Daughter!Fem!Reader

Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Fem!Reader

Warnings: GOT

Word count: 2,053

Summary: Rhaenyra loves her daughter, even if she’s to much like her sometimes.

Authors Note: Takes place during season 1

Masterlist

House Of The Dragon Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Mother.” Y/n greeted as she jumped off her dragon having just landed from her ride.

“Y/n.” Rhaenyra greeted her daughter with a smile.

“It’s a lovely day to ride. Isn’t it?” Y/n smiled widely as she walked over towards her mother.

“Indeed it is.” She agreed before her face turned to a solemn grimace. “We need to talk.”

“What about?” Y/n played innocent as if she didn’t have a clue.

“I think you know.” Rhaenyra state’s knowingly.

“Ah the get married talk.” Y/n bit her lip, a sour look coming up on her face.

“You don’t have to get married right away. But look for someone you want to marry. Yes, you do need to do that.” Rhaenyra knew her daughter wanted to be free not tied down so she was expecting some backlash and defiance for wanting her to start thinking about marriage.

“Find someone that would love to control me and keep me locked away?” Y/n asked with narrowed eyes.

“It doesn’t have to be like that.” Rhaenyra tells her with sad eye’s.

“I do not want to lose my freedom. That’s what marriage will get me.” Y/n shook her head.

“If you take the time to find a man that you like and you get to know him you could find one that won’t treat you that way.” Rhaenyra tries to tell her hoping she’d understand that not all relationships have to be that way. She wasn’t all that shocked that her daughter viewed marriage the way she did when she was younger. But it saddened her that Y/n’s view on relationships was so bleak. Her own marriage wasn’t horrible to Laenor and neither was her marriage to Daemon. But Rhaenyra knew that she had been lucky in that department.

“He could lie just to get me to like him and then lock me away after our vows are said.” Y/n told her, it was one of her fears. Being lied to and falling for someone only to marry and then for them to show their colors and control her.

“I won’t let that happen.” Rhaenyra promises her daughter reaching for her shoulders and looking her in the eye’s. But she could tell Y/n didn’t fully believe her and Rhaenyra blamed herself. For staying in King's Landing to long and her seeing such horrible relationships there of all kinds.

Rhaenyra knew Y/n was done talking about this for the time being so with a reminder to wash up before dinner later before leaving back to the castle of DragonStone. Once she got back to her chambers it wasn’t a surprise to her that her husband/uncle was there already.

“How’d it go?” Daemon asked, looking up noticing his wife/niece enter the room.

“She wants nothing to do with looking for a sutor or getting married.” She sighed.

“Did she give a reason?” Daemon questioned knowing Y/n more than likely had a good reason. After all she was the product of him and Rhaenyra before her marriage to Laenor, he and Y/n had a great relationship.

“She doesn’t want to lose her freedom.” Rhaenyra tell’s him, summing up the conversation she had with their daughter.

“She’s exactly like her mother.” Daemon smirked proudly.

Rhaenyra opened her mouth at his statement. “I was-”

“Exactly the same way. But you had a different type of duty to uphold. She doesn’t have to carry the weight of it like you did and because of that we can take our time and so can she. That way we can make sure Y/n doesn’t end up in a loveless marriage.” Daemon interrupted walking over to her and cupping the back of her neck putting their foreheads together. Neither of them planned to let any of their children be in loveless marriages.

“There’s a celebration in a week’s time. Maybe someone there will catch her interest.” She spoke after thinking over his words.

“Hmmhmm.” Daemon hummed but he was convinced his little dragon wouldn’t curve her view that easily. Someone would have to really work for her affections.

^     ^     ^

It was finally the day of the celebration and Rhaenyra and Daemon along with all their children had flown on dragon back to the Red Keep. They weren’t the only ones to travel for the celebration, lords and ladies and others had traveled far for the celebrations. 

But Y/n knew the ball being held was also a way to subtly get her introduced to the available men of the realm for potential suitors. Y/n was standing before her mirror looking at herself in the ball gown specifically made for tonight. It was beautiful, Y/n thought.

“Come in.” Y/n called out at the knock on her chamber door.

“You look beautiful.” Rhaenyra smiled at her beautiful daughter as she entered the room and walked over to stand right behind her.

“Thank you.” Y/n looked at her mother in the mirror through their reflections.

“I know you're probably not excited about tonight. But I ask that you at least try.” She pleaded with her hoping she’d at least give it a chance.

“I will try. But no guarantees.” Y/n sighed not really wanting to but she’d try. For her mom she’d try.

“That's all I ask.” Rhaenyra smiled gratefully.

Later at the celebration Daemon had noticed Y/n was trying to just stay in the corner to be unseen. Just observing the ball so he decided to go over to her and talk to her figuring it was the perfect time.

“I see you look so thrilled to be here.” Daemon said as he stood next to his daughter.

“Over the moon.” Y/n said with a flat tone of voice. Both observed the people filling the room.

“I can understand your feelings about this. There warranted. But may I ask you to do something?” He spoke up tilting his head down in her direction.

“Mother already gave me the ‘At least try’ talk.” Y/n rolled her eyes looking back at him.

“I’m not going to tell you to try.” He scoffed.

Y/n furrowed her brow confused. “Then what?”

“I just want to ask you to be nice to the poor bastards that are here to try and woo you.” Daemon sent her a wink followed by a mischievous smile.

“I’ll tell you what I told my mother. I’ll try but there are no guarantees.” Y/n smiled up at him with the same mischief.

“That's my dragon.” Daemon kissed her forehead before giving off in search of his wife/niece.

Y/n was polite to everyone that came over to talk but most seemed to lose interest and leave her be when she showed no interest in fawning all over them. Y/n didn’t mind, she wasn’t going to be something that she’s not.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere but here.” Cregan Stark leaned down to whisper in her ear from behind.

Y/n turned her head slightly at the voice. It was very close but surprisingly not unwelcome. “You're very observant.”

“Cregan Stark.” He introduced himself as he moved around to stand in front of her and bowed.

“Y/n Targaryen.” She nodded her head in acknowledgment.

“I can tell.” Cregan smiled leaning in closely but not to close to crowd her.

“Oh?” Y/n raised a brow.

“You are glaring daggers. If looks could kill princess, well . . .” He tilted his head teasingly. Which was shocking to anyone that knew the Warden of the North if they saw him. It wasn’t in his nature but for some reason it came easy if the princesses company.

Y/n was intrigued by his playful nature so she turned her body to face him. Both of them are leaning against the wall near them. In their own little bubble they created rather quickly.

“And here I thought I was being subtle.” Y/n answered.

“You mask it pretty well with boredom.” He nodded telling her she was in fact masking it but not from him.

“Oh well that I’m not trying to hide.” She looked him up and down, almost challenging him to change that.

“And why are you so bored and dare I say angry? If I may ask, of course.” Cregan placed a hand on his chest mocking hurt.

“You may Lord Stark.” Y/n was shocked on the inside at his humor and the fact he came up to her and didn’t start off with talking himself up or marriage. He wanted to joke, have a real conversation with her as if they didn’t have titles attached to their names. “This whole night is a set up for me to find potential suitors.”

“And that causes such a reaction?” he questioned with a comically shocked look.

“Yes. I don’t want to find a suitor. That means getting married.” Y/n told him.

“And why do you despise marriage Princess?” Cregan was genuinely wanting to know why she felt so strongly against marriage.

“I don’t want to be locked away and controlled.” Y/n tells him straight.

“And that’s marriage to you?” Cregan wanted to know more. Like ‘Why?’ she felt that way. He knew things were different here than the North, but was it truly that different?

“Its what every man who is vieing for my hand wants. A name, status, and a woman to control and fuck to have their own heirs with. Nothing more. Not a woman with a mind of her own.” Y/n explains to him. She didn’t know why she felt she could tell him anything but he just felt different compared to everyone else.

Cregan nodded understanding her explanation and how true it was unfortunately. “You still want to do the things you love and enjoy. You don’t want to give up being your own person.”

Y/n looked him in the eyes shocked that he got it. “Exactly.”

“I don’t think you're being unreasonable. I think you just don’t wanna be a slave to your future husband.” He shook his head looking her in the eye’s with a kindness no suitor had ever looked at her with.

“That's what they all want. Slave for a wife, who shuts up and pushes out babies.” Y/n let out a sad laugh casting his gaze down.

“Yes, that’s what most of them want.” Cregan agreed but he took another step forward and cupped her cheek. The two were so close their chests were touching. Y/n looked back up and gazed into his eyes. “It’s not what I want.”

“Is that so?” Y/n looked into his eyes, curious but still cautious.

“Why don’t we dance, and talk? That way you can find out.” He held out his free hand as he offered to dance. Something that with anyone else he would not have offered to do.

Y/n thought about it for a moment debating if she truly believed him or not. And she did. Y/n put her hand in his. “Lead the way Lord Stark.”

“As you wish, princess.” Cregan smiled, leading her to the dance floor in the center of the room. Where the two only focused on the other the whole night, laughing and talking the whole time they danced.

“Looks like one man was brave enough to try and get to know her.” Daemon leaned in to speak in Rhaenyra’s ear. The couple knew Y/n was a pure dragon not just in blood but in attitude and it took someone brave to go up and be willing to get to know the sweet girl under the wall’s she had built to others. Of course the man brave enough was a Northern, a Stark no less.

“By the looks of it she seems to enjoy his company.” Rhaenyra smiled at the thought of her daughter having found someone that she’d let in and truly know her. Let someone make her happy in that special way that love can. “Maybe he’s the one.” She looked up to her uncle/husband with hope in her eyes.

“Eh, we’ll see about this.” Daemon smiled but he was also thinking of ways to test the young Stark. Make sure he was good enough for his little dragon.

Taglist:

@gruffle1 @padawancat97 @maryvibess @misspendragonsworld @starkleila

[lionneee]

Aemond is the Prince Regent

English is not my first language, be kind.

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: incest, p in v, smut, oral (m), taking of sexual themes, smut, chocking, talking of wounds.•

OC!Aemond x Sister!Reader

He looked at the doors of the council room, just waiting for her to enter. 

He was enraged.

He liked how everyone in the meeting seemed to be afraid of him.

Yet not everyone.

He was to be feared. He enjoyed the glances of horror of the people who looked at him as he walked in the keep.

Yet, he believed he could summon him, with haste.

Even more, due to his brother's decision, he had to put up with that toad.

He clenched his jaw as he looked at the doors opening.

Finally. Some peace.

“Brother.” Her voice sounded like a melody to his ears. Almost enough to seath his anger.

Almost.

She walked closer, calmly, keeping her hand clasped on her lap.

“You do not look… content.” She said as she walked closer, until she stood in front of him, laying back on the table.

“Mh.” He looked up at her, as he leaned back on his seat, his leg thrown over the other.

“You look quite comfortable on your chair.” She commented as she looked down at him. “Eman ryptan, ao might daor umbagon konīr syt bōsa. Īlva lēkia glaesagon se paghagon.”

-Yet I have heard, you might not stay there for long. Our brother lives and breathe.-

He sighed and looked away.

“Syt sir.”

-For now.-

“Kostā daor pryjagon zirȳla arlī.”

-You cannot strike him again.-

He looked back at her.

“Do you think I’ve summoned you here to tell me what I’ve already known, sister?” He hissed, annoyed by her pointing out the obvious.

He already knew that.

“No, I don’t.” She answered, taking his hand in hers, bringing it to her mouth to kiss it. He hummed in appreciation, looking how her lips pouted to kiss his skin, how soft they felt on his hand. He shifted in his chair, spreading his legs.

“Ao gīmigon skoros naejot gaomagon.”

-You know what to do.-

She looked at him through her lashes, then, without much hesitation, she knelt in front of him.

“They’re stressing you, brother?” She asked as she started palming him through his trousers, gently. He sighed as he let his head lean back, closing his eye.

“They listen. Most of them. Some still don’t respect my opinions. My choices.” He said as she slowly started to undo his trousers, pulling them down just enough to be able to slip a hand under his undergarments and take his cock in her soft hand, pulling it out in the light. Her mouth watered immediately at the sight. Thick and pale. She just had to move her hand a bit, to see it grow to all his longness. 

“You’re always so ready for me, brother…” She mumbled as her gaze never left his cock. She darted out her tongue to lick his undershaft from the base to the end, wrapping her lips around his tip, sucking gently.

He groaned as he moved his hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair gently.

“Everything for my sweet sister.” He looked down at her, meeting her gaze full of lust and admiration. “Now take care of me.” He clenched his hand on her hair, pulling her down on his cock. 

As much as he loved her, he was in no mood for gentle.

She immediately complied, taking his cock in her mouth, her tongue swirling around him as she moved her head up and down and in circles, keeping not a much fast speed, but focusing on the intensity of her movements.

Aemond’s body jerks at the contact of her tongue, a low, guttural moan escaping from his chest. 

“Yeah... that feels so good." He grunted as he tightened even more his grip on her hair.

She hummed around him as she kept her hands on her back, sucking hard on him, moving her head up and down, her movements getting faster.

He moaned loudly, his head thrown back, his hand pulling on her hair instinctively

“You’re so damn good at that." he mutters, his voice thick and rough in pleasure. He pulled her off his cock for a moment, so he could bend down and look at her face, her chin already wet in saliva, her eyes seemed lost as she looked at him with a smile. He squeezed her jaw with his other hand, pulling her to his face so he could kiss her, feeling in her mouth his own taste. He grinned as he pulled back from the kiss, yanking her back down on his cock, that she greedily took again in her mouth, sucking and hollowing her cheeks, as his hand guided her movements now.

“Was my sister born to suck my cock? Mh?” He growled as he started to push her past her comfort level, pushing her head down enough to make her gag around him. She moved her hands up, wanting to put them on his thighs, but he quickly moved them away.

“Hands behind you. Don't make me repeat myself.” He warned her, watching her as she clasped her hands behind her, clenching them into tight fists as he kept using her mouth, pushing his cock as far as it could go.

He cared for his sister, he really did. Unlike their brother or their nephews, she had always been kind and sweet to him. She didn’t care if he was different.

“I am different too, you know?”

She whispered to him one night, after he had isolated himself in the library, humiliated once again by one of their nephews' jokes.

She had always taken care of him, way more than even their own mother did.

He still remembered how she ran to him, hearing about the fight at Driftmark. How she kept his hand in hers as she observed the Maester suing his eye.

He heard her chuckle ringing in the walls of his desert room.

He immediately froze, looking at her.

Not her too, please.

“Have you seen Luke’s face? It looked like a big dirty sack full of air.” She chuckled.

He remembered smiling at her foolish comment, her words, somehow, reassuring him that she would have always been by his side.

She had always been composed, intelligent and kind. Their brother once told him he would have rather marry her instead of Heleana, because she was prettier, easier to bed.

His control snapped all of the sudden.

She was his. His alone.

He pushed her head all the way down, until her lips touched the base of his cock, her nose pressed against his pubic bone, and the sound of gagging escaped her throat repeatedly.

“Suck it.” He growled. “I know you can do better sister, are you here to relieve me or enrage me even more?” He hissed as he bent down, closer to her head. She whined as she coughed around his cock, he could hear her choke, trying desperately to swallow around him as she tried to breathe through her nose.

He moaned as he let himself fall back on his chair, letting her rise lightly, but only to keep her and thrust his hips up, the tip touching the back of her throat repeatedly, making her whine every time.

“Sh-sh-shh…” He hummed as he kept thrusting up in her mouth, his movements quickly becoming more abandoned as he lost himself in the pleasure.

“Fuck— You’re gonna make me come, sister—“ He mumbled closing his eye shut. She moaned around him, the vibrations sending a shiver down his body, and she hollowed her cheek tightly, creating the perfect friction to make him tumble over the edge.

“Fuck— Seven Hells, swallow it— Don’t you dare waste a drop—“ He growled as he pushed his hips up, pulling her down. She whined loudly as her hands stayed behind her, taking all he gave him. He relaxed back on the chair, watching her raise his head the moment he retrieved his hand from it. She looked at him with her cheeks wet of tears, and chin of saliva, smiling as she showed her white painted tongue. He smiled down at her as he caressed her cheek, looking at her swallow.

“My sweet sister.” He praised as she leaned her face towards his hand, seeking attention like a purring cat.

She was scared to enter. She had heard from the Maesters that his brother's situation was delicate, cryptical.

She had only seen him when he returned from Rook’s Rest, still with his armor on, melted on his skin, clinging to him like the last thing he would have worn in his life.

Yet he lived.

She couldn’t tell what she was feeling at the moment. It was a mix of contradictory emotions.

She was… happy? That her brother was alive. She was anxious that he might remember, and ruin Aemond. She was angry, because he could have died and spared himself his life as a Futile King. She was scared of his condition. She was scared to not be able to look at him anymore.

Even more, she was scared to look at him, and despise Aemond for what he did.

She was sad. Because his brother was hurting.

She took a deep breath, walking in the King's chambers, finding her mother sitting not so far from the bed, and Aegon resting. She didn’t let herself linger too much on him.

She couldn’t yet.

“Mother.” She said, walking towards her. Her mother sighed as she looked at her, standing up to step closer. 

“Did Aemond tell you anything?” She asked her.

“No, the Maester did.” She pointed to Aegon.

“No…” She sighed, looking to the side. “Not that, my girl.” Her mother looked down as her daughter’s gaze grew confused.

“Then what, mother?” She asked, intrigued.

To be fair, she and Aemond did not talk a lot when they met in the council room. Though she used her mouth a lot.

“He released my seat at the council.” Her mother admitted.

So he did it.

“I’m sorry, mother.” She simply said, looking down as well.

“You know Aemond.” Her mother stepped closer, putting a hand on her cheek to raise her head, to make her look at her. “You know him well, since childhood. You might know his pain better than I ever did-“ She grabbed her harm to pull her even closer. “Please. You must help him. This anger he keeps for the Blacks will only ruin us all.” 

She looked at her mother for a long moment.

So that’s how she did it? She suddenly understood why Aemond couldn’t bear her anymore.

“I do not know much, mother.” She stepped aside. “And you know just as much that Aemond is not one to be… redirected.” She looked back at her. “Do you not trust his education better than Aegon’s?” Alicent stepped back, looking at her.

“Aemond might be well educated, but he’s young.”

“Just two years older than Aegon.” She pointed out, making her mother scoff.

“He is reckless. He is not plotting a war but a revenge. His revenge.” Her mother stepped closer again.

“Won’t that do us good? If his revenge will make us win the war, farewell.” She spoke calmly.

“Do us good?” She repeated, shaking her head. “We have to win a war, yes, but this- This is not-“

“Do you still care for the enemy, mother?” She interrupted her before she could say anything more. Her mother pressed her lips together.

“Your brother needs peace.” She simply said before walking out the room.

“Jace, stop!” She laughed out loud, rolling on the ground.

“Why do you want me to stop if you’re laughing so hard?” Jace chuckled as he sat over her, tickling repeatedly on her sides.

“Stop! My belly is hurting!” She kept laughing, trying to roll away from his hands, but to no avail.

“She said stop!” Suddenly, Jace disappeared from over her, she saw him on the ground, Aemond on top of him. 

“Aemond-“ She mumbled as she moved her hand towards them. She got lifted up from her armpits from someone behind her. When she looked around she saw Aegon smiling down at her.

“Aegon? Why is Aemond hurting Jace?” She asked, arching her brows in confusion and concern.

“They are just boys, little one.” He raised his shoulders. “Let them have their fun.” He put his arm around her shoulders.

“Fun? Is that fun?” She asked as she looked back one last time before her brother walked her away from the garden, back inside the Red Keep. 

“It’s their fun.” Aegon explained, as he guided her through the hallways that she still had trouble orienting herself in.

“I want to try that fun too!” She clapped her hand, looking up at Aegon as he smiled down at her. 

“Then we’ll try, little one, I promise.” He assured her. 

It took her a while, but then she moved in the room. She walked on the other side of the bed, raising her eyes slowly.

He looked…

She couldn’t find a word to describe it. She covered her mouth with her hands as she sat beside him.

“Brother—“ She sobbed, surprising herself with her tears.

Aegon slowly opened his eye, rolling it towards her. 

“Brother—“ She grabbed his hand carefully, keeping it in hers.

She had plotted many times with Aemond behind Aegon’s back. They drew the perfect plan.

But it was never Aemond to hurt him. Always the blacks.

Al they would have done was… push him towards his death, carefully.

“I’m sorry—“ She whispered. She was overwhelmed. Fear, sadness, even betrayal. She knew Aemond hated his brother deeply, but never, never, she truly expected him to do something like this. 

A pang on her stomach made her almost throw up.

Should she be scared? Should she fear Aemond too?

“I’m sorry, brother—“ She sobbed as she leaned down towards him, careful not to touch any of his wounds.

“L-lit-little o-one—“ She heard his weak, broken voice, almost a whisper, and it only saddened her more.

“I’m sorry-“ She sniffled “P-please-“ She mumbled as she looked back up at him. 

She felt his hand squeeze her back.

She breathed in deeply, trying to compose herself again.

“D-do you remember…?” She asked weakly. She looked closely at him, she saw how his eye slightly widened.

Suddenly, all she felt was fear.

“No.”

Liar.

The doors opened, and she quickly pulled back, standing up from the bed and wiping her tears before facing whoever entered.

“Sister.” She looked at Aemond, staring down at her with a hard gaze, his voice venomous. 

“Aem-“ She wanted to explain herself.

“Leave us. I’d like to have a word with our king.” He interrupted her as he looked away from her, his single eye focused on Aegon.

She looked back at Aegon one last time, seeing him still looking at her as she silently walked out.

She heard the door to her chamber open, but she didn’t even turn on her seat to know who it was.

“What were you doing with him?” His voice was calm, collected. 

So he was very angry.

“Can’t I visit our wounded brother?” She answered as she finished brushing her hair, standing up from her vanity in only her thin nightgown.

He quickly caught her arm, looking up in annoyance as he pulled to him, staring down at her.

“You were crying.” He stated.

“He stank a lot.” She simply said, to cover her affection towards Aegon.

“You do not fool me, sister.” He breathed out a laugh.

She didn’t answer, she simply stared at him with a hard glare, but his amusement was quick to change. He gripped her arm tighter, as he pulled her even closer, their faces mere inches apart.

“We are in this together, remember?” He hissed angrily, walking forward, pushing her harshly back, making her step back towards her bed. 

“Aemond stop-“ She warned, trying to free her arm.

“Stop? But you started this, remember?” He chuckled coldly. “So many years ago, you started this.” He repeated, as he threw her back on her back, making her land on the mattress with a gasp. “You don’t get to tell me no, now.” He crawled on top of her before she could move, sitting on her lap to keep her down. “Do you not love me anymore, sister?” He tilted his head to the side.

“Of course, I love you-“ She stated as she tried to slip away. He grabbed her hands and pinned them down the bed over her head.

“Then why all this struggle?” He asked mockingly as he raised her nightgown alway further, until her chest was exposed to him. “Why are you trying to move away?” He asked as his eye darted down on her tits, grabbing one in his hand, not so gently, and squeezing it. She whined as she kicked her feet, arching her back slightly.

“Shh… We can’t be loud here, sweet sister.” He hummed, as he removed his hand from her breast only to untie his pants, while the other kept down her wrists.

“Aemond—“

“Shut up.” He growled as he raised slightly only to pull his pants down enough to free his cock. He looked down at her tits as he slowly started to jerk himself, just enough to grow hard on her body.

“Just relax, sister.” He muttered, as he spread her legs with his knee, settling between her legs. He aligned his cock to her core, rubbing his tip over her clit only to see her squirm for his own pleasure, an amused smirk in his face. Then, he started to push inside her, even if she wasn’t wet enough to receive him, he kept pushing, making her squirm even more. “I’ll take care of you.” Said that, he spat down on his cock, thrusting inside her until her walls wrapped around him completely. He grunted lowly, opening his mouth at the pleasure of being finally inside her once again. Her tightness, her warmth welcoming him in the most delicious way.

“Gods, sister…” He breathed out as he looked down at her. “Why try to stop this-“ He begins to move his hips, his body driving into her with a slow and steady rhythm, as he pressed his forehead against her temple, looking down at her as her mouth opened, a string of moans coming out of her. “-If it makes you feel this good?” Aemond’s eye stayed fixed on her face, watching the expressions on her face as he moved against her. He could see the pleasure in her eyes, and the sounds she’s making only drive his need even higher.

He moves faster, each thrust driven by the primal need to take her, to keep her tightly on his side.

 "You feel so good, sister.” His voice hoarse with need. “So perfect." He punctuated his words with particularly hard thrusts, his eye watching her reaction. 

“Seven- Aemond—“ She cried out as she pressed her lips together, trying to contain every sound that threatened to come out too loud. He laughed at her struggle, kissing her cheek softly, a high contrast between what he was doing to her. His movements kept growing faster, rougher, delivering himself every time with a loud slap of skin and juices.

"You're so tight, sister," His voice ragged. "It's like you're trying to cling onto me, holding me inside you." He groaned as he felt her clench around him. “Oh, you already gonna come?” He grinned. “Did sucking my cock keep you on the edge all day, sweet thing?” He leaned closer to her ear. “How much more until you start begging?” He continued to move, his pace getting more intense, his body rubbing against hers, his hands gripping her hip tightly.

“Oh— Gods, Aemond—“ She moaned as she panted. “You feel so good-“ She whined as she bent her legs, widening them more as she looked down, seeing how his cock was abusing her cunt repeatedly.

He let out a low, guttural moan at her words, her sounds driving him wild. "You feel so good like this... so tight—" He growled, the sound coming out feral and primal, his body pushing against hers with increasing force. 

"Aemond- Brother I— Lēkia!”

-Brother!- She arched her back violently, her body starting to shake all over as he felt her clench on him tightly. She could feel herself on the edge, the tension in her body ready to snap.

“Come for me, sweet sister. Māzigon syt issa.”

-Come for me.- He ordered, moving his hand from her wrists to her neck, squeezing tightly, and that, did it for her. She clenched her jaw tightly as she came around him with a high pitched scream, her hips jerking against his, her body tensing and relaxing by the force of her orgasm.

He gripped her hip tightly, the feeling of her coming apart beneath him sending a wave of satisfaction and possession through his body. "Yes— gods." He groaned in her ear, his body responding to the intensity of her orgasm, his own release close behind.

"I-I'm close-" he gasped out, his body moving against her with a frantic, desperate fervor.

"Gods, you're going to make me—ah-" His words were cut off as he lost control, his body tensing and shuddering as he pulled out at the last moment, keeping his hand on her throat as he quickly wrapped the other one around his cock, jerking himself furiously, drops of his sperm falling down on her stomach, tits , and a few even in her face.

He buried his head in your neck, his body trembling with the intensity of his orgasm, his hands gripping your body tightly as he rode out the waves of pleasure. "Mine. Mine. You stay on my side. You stay with me.”

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95

[maidragoste]

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

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

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated 💖💖

Series masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mother, I want to know!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But my lessons”

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

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

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

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

Daeron smiled and kissed each of them on the cheek.

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

Taglist The Queen and Her Husbands:

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

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

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

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

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

hotd masterlist

[idksmtms]

For Anyone But Us (Criston Cole x Alicent's Daughter!reader)

A/N: Sorry Daeron, you didn’t exist here either 

Summary: You had grown up with Ser Criston as your protector, and almost a father figure. You didn’t know when exactly you began to crave him in carnal ways, in ways that had you blushing redder than a summer strawberry and running to hide away. But now you can handle it no longer. You must have him. 

Word count: 3,867

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap, oral f & m receiving, handjob, smut smut smut, self-hating, slightly manipulative reader (??), daddy issues, sexualising a father figure, era-typical negative view of sex, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

You sat in your mother’s quarters, embroidery on your lap and a gentle melody humming from your lips. She was answering letters at her writing table while you reclined on her couch, enjoying the sudden breeze that had settled upon king’s landing and blew through her open windows. Occasionally you looked up to Ser Criston, standing stoic as ever by the door, and offered him a joyful little smile, one which he returned in his own muted way. 

Since you were born, you have been your mother’s constant companion. From her breast to her lap to her side, you have spent almost your entire life beside her. You are her youngest child, the apple of her eye by far, and the one that looks most like her. When you cried, she was the only one to comfort you, when you showed an interest in music, she had the best musicians come to foster your talent, when you said you wanted to learn history, she had as many books as would fit in your chambers brought from the library. You may be half Targaryen, but you will always be Alicent’s daughter. 

Due to being your mother’s constant companion, you soon became one for Ser Criston as well. Alicent trusted no guard more than Ser Criston and so he often had the task of being your carer. He has soothed your tears and washed your cuts when you’ve played too hard. He has tickled you until your laughs became shrieks and been the first to compliment every single one of your new dresses. You have grown up watching Ser Criston be your mother’s protector, be your protector. When you think of safety, you think of his face. So it makes sense that when you look upon his face as he watches out the window, a stoic set to his lips and brow, that your chest heats up and an errant throb pangs between your legs? 

You don’t really remember when you started feeling this way for him. You vividly remember one night, a feast for some celebration or other, and your mother had gifted you a new dress made of silk dyed in thin red water to make the prettiest baby pink. The maids had done your hair with intricate braids and curls that fell down your back but left your neck and chest exposed. You had rushed out of your room and found Ser Criston first, hopping in front of him to show off the dress. You had spun around in excitement, swishing the skirt of your dress back and forth and asking him what he thought. He had said you were the most beautiful girl in the world with a smile on his face and those dark eyes of his that never truly softened and kept a certain harsh quality to them. Your whole chest had turned red and your stomach had twisted in the most pleasurable way and you had wanted him to watch you for the rest of eternity. Even during the feast you had kept standing by him despite your siblings scolding you to mingle, pouting like a child if he turned his attention away from you for even a minute. 

Another memory, only a few years past, when Aegon had said something to upset you and you had come sobbing to your mother. After soothing your tears she had left you in her quarters under the watchful eye of Ser Criston to go and scold Aegon. You had sidled up to him, asking if whatever taunt Aegon had made was true. He had been quick to shush you, telling you that Aegon was a young man and he could still be stupid, that you needn’t take everything he said to heart. You had pressed yourself to his chest then, wrapping your arms around the armour on his midriff. He had gently rubbed your back for a few moments before clearing his throat and pulling away, guiding you back to the couch and bringing you whatever embroidery project you had left on the side table. But the feeling of his large hand on your back, his palm and fingers spanning so wide, his smell and even the look of his skin from so close had stuck inside your mind and body and you had tossed and turned that entire night to thoughts of him. 

You startled out of your thoughts of the man when your mother abruptly stood from her chair, tutting as she mumbled to herself about the time. You knew she was overdue to tea with Larys Strong so you smiled cheekily at her as she breezed past you, pressing a kiss to your head before heading to the door. 

“Ser Criston, stay here with Y/n, I shall take Ser Berrill with me to my meeting,” and she was out the door before Criston could nod his assent. 

You smiled then, looking to where Ser Criston stood and abandoning your embroidery to skip over to him. He smiled at you, bowing his head in greeting and you giggled. Criston didn’t know when that had become his favourite sound in the world but it was better than even the Septon bells on a wedding day. 

“I think I shall head back to my quarters Ser Criston, accompany me?” You asked, reaching to grab his arm and threading yours through his. Criston cleared his throat and nodded, his neck and cheeks going hot at the feeling of your body pressed so close to his side. It was inappropriate for a girl of your age and stature to be standing so close to him. But you had been doing this all your life, and despite the whispers that now began to pervade the keep about this behaviour, you refused to stop. (And of course Ser Criston was incapable of saying no to you). 

Criston opened the door and led the way out into the hallway, walking slow enough for you to keep pace with him. You were chattering on about something or other, he was too busy surveying your surroundings to fully pay attention, and the glimpse of your breasts that he caught every time he looked down to you was enough for him to keep his eyes away from your form completely. 

“...and that’s why Aemond has cemented his place as my favourite brother.” You giggled and he couldn’t help but look down to you again, smiling distractedly when he caught sight of the way your breasts curved under your emerald green gown, at the slight bumps of your nipples that he could see through the fabric. 

“He is a true prince of the realm and a great brother for you, Princess,” Criston answered, hoping it would be enough of an answer for you. You smiled and nodded and began on another story but stopped as you reached the doors to your chambers. You paused outside the door, opening and closing your mouth a few times. You chewed at the tip of the nail on your index finger and looked up at Criston with big doe eyes that had his entire body clenching up. 

“Ser Criston… would you come into my chambers with me? I don’t particularly feel like being alone right now.” You were twisting side to side at the waist lightly, hoping he would cave. 

“I do not think that is appropriate Princess,” he replied quietly, voice going low and gruff. 

“Please, Ser Criston? There is nothing wrong with my protector joining me in my chambers,” you argued, eyes going teary. 

“Princess…” he sighed, shaking his head. “We may know we are not doing anything scandalous but others will not know. I will not be responsible for anyone questioning your honour.” You sighed, almost admitting defeat, before looking up at him once more. 

“What if there is someone in there right now, waiting to destroy my honour? Then it would be irresponsible of you not to accompany me into my chambers,” you smiled triumphantly, before quickly pouting again when you remembered that cheekiness would not work in your favour. 

“Do not speak of such things Princess,” he replied sharply, swallowing aggressively at the thought of someone daring to come close to you with those intentions. 

“Then do not risk it Ser Criston and accompany me into my chambers,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Criston sighed once more before nodding in acquiescence. He knew you would always win, it was only a matter of how long he was willing to fight against you. 

You smiled brightly and grabbed onto his arm, dragging him into the room with you and shutting the door firmly behind you, sliding the lock closed before Criston could even realise you had done it. 

You leaned back against the door and watched him stand in the middle of the room, looking around the entire room before deeming it safe for you. He turned back to you and saw the mischievous smile on your face before sighing once more. 

“The room is safe Princess, I must return to my guardpost now,” he said, but he knew it would be easier said than done leaving now that he was inside. You just shook your head, continuing to block the door. 

“But I don’t feel safe Ser Criston, you must stay and continue protecting me,” you whined, rushing forward and falling to your knees right in front of him. You clasped one of his hands between yours and pouted as he began trying to get you to stand up. If someone walked in now and saw the princess on her knees in front of a knight, he would be sent to death quicker than he could pray for forgiveness. 

“Stand up Princess, please, you should not be on the floor,” he sounded pained, holding onto your elbows and trying to get you to stand without yanking you up. You just shook your head and did something that made his heart stop directly in his chest. You brought his hands to your lips and gently kissed the backs of both, staring up at him from under fluttering eyelashes. 

“This is exactly where I should be, Ser Criston. You have protected me my entire life, you have cared for me like no other, loved me like no other. I am devoted to you even beyond the gods. It is only right that I show you my devotion, show you my thanks, right here on my knees.” All breath abandoned him as he looked upon you, innocent and pure, on your knees with your face right by his cock. He swallowed harshly, shaking his head. No, no, no. He could not do this. He had abandoned his vows once already. And while he wholeheartedly believed that if he abandoned them with you then it wouldn’t be a waste as it had been with Rhaenyra, the thought of sullying you, of allowing himself to feel all that… heat and desperation, filled him with a shame that would eventually kill him. 

“Princess, please heed my words, you cannot do this, we cannot do this. You say I have protected you my entire life, and it is from this too I have protected you. From the men who wish to steal your honour and sully your body. I will not be one of them.” He wanted to sound firm but it came out pleading, almost verging on a desperate whine that had you frowning and tilting your head. 

“I only want you, Ser Criston. I don’t want any other, and I know I never will. You have never denied me anything, please do not deny me this,” your lip began to wobble and tears pooled so quickly in your eyes that they began to spill over before he could try and sway you away. You began to blubber and he dropped to his knees awkwardly in his armour, 

“Please don’t cry Princess, please don’t cry,” he begged, throwing off his gloves and cupping your face with his hands as you began to sniffle. His skin was rough and warm and you rubbed your cheek into his palm like a puppy. 

“You will not be sullying me, you will still be protecting me. If you do this for me then I will know what love feels like and I will know how to judge a suitor. I-I will know what pleasure feels like,” you added shyly, leaning closer to him. “You will only be teaching me. There is nothing wrong with teaching, you have been teaching me and my brothers since we were children.” 

Criston sighed and shook his head, grunting at the battle that waged a war in his head. He closed his eyes, knowing that if he kept looking at you he would break much too quickly. He shouldn’t be feeling like this for you. He shouldn’t be feeling like this for anyone. It was wrong to be such a lustful creature. But you whimpered and whined in his hands, turning to press open-mouthed kisses against his palms and he could feel the cracks appearing in his resolve along with his shame. When you took his index finger into your mouth, sucking on it like a child with a treat, the feeling of your warm, wet, mouth had spikes of hot pleasure shooting through his body and any remaining resolve dissolving as easier than salt into water. 

Criston moaned, too loud for his liking, and his breath shook out of him, head bowing as he panted against his chest. You could see the change in him, could see that you had won as his free hand began to roughly tug at the straps of his chestplate. It fell away and clattered onto the floor as you continued sucking on his finger, swirling your tongue around the digit. Criston sucked in a breath before pulling his finger from your mouth, cupping your cheek with the same hand and spreading your spit over your face. He pulled you into a kiss, a harsh thing that had you gasping and keening and yelping slightly when your bottom lip pinched between his mouth and your teeth. But all bonds on him had been unleashed, and he was ravenous. 

You fell against him, becoming just as desperate though with far less experience. You shoved your hands into his hair and pressed your chest to his, settling yourself onto his lap as he fell back onto the floor, torso held up by his elbows. He plunged his tongue into your mouth while you collected your skirts into your hands so you could sit on him without any intrusion. Criston pulled away from you, panting against your mouth for a moment before gently shoving you off and standing up again. He began undoing the rest of his armour and you sat on your knees and watched him. His hair was mussed from your hands and his cheeks had gone rosy pink. You heard the clanks of metal as each piece fell away and more of his body was revealed to you. The soft clothes he wore underneath were next, his shirt pulled over his head and tossed to the side without a care in the world. 

The soft bronze skin of his abdomen was taut and curved along each defined muscle. A light dusting of dark hair sat along his chest and trailed down his stomach until it disappeared below his breeches. You couldn’t handle being away from him any longer, a desperate heat crawling over your skin as if bugs had begun buzzing under your skin. 

You shuffled forward on your knees until you were right before him. You pressed a hand to the warm skin of his stomach, lightly scratching your nails down toward the waist of his pants. He shuddered, curling forward slightly and resting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Princess…” he sighed, but he didn’t stop you either. 

You slipped your fingers into the waistband and slowly began to move it down. His cock caught in it before popping out and gently slapping against his abdomen. You stared at it, mouth suddenly full of saliva and legs trembling. You reached out and grasped it, the skin soft and burning hot. The tip was bright red and glistening, a small pearl dribbling out of it and sliding down the length. Another pearl dribbled onto your hand and you tightened your hold on him, listening to the gasps and moans he let out. You didn’t know where the desire to kiss it, to lick it, came from but you didn’t deny a single thing your body desired. You leaned forward and licked just under the head of his cock, smacking your lips slightly to try and decipher what exactly the taste was, before going in for another lick. You ran your tongue up the length of his shaft and back down. The hand on your shoulder clenched tight into your gown and pulled you closer to him. You opened your mouth wide and took the head just past your lips, suckling on it. You stared up into Criston’s face, his mouth open as he panted and moaned like he was in the most pain a man had ever felt. The sounds of your mouth smacking as you suckled on his cock echoed into the room and you rubbed your legs together. It sounded so wrong but oh so good. 

You pulled off of his length before going back to drag long licks along the length of his shaft. Everywhere you could reach you licked until Criston was keening loudly and pulling away. 

“Princess! Princess, please,” he huffed, cupping your face as you sat there staring up at him. You reached to your back and pulled on the ties to unlace your dress as much as you could on your own. The top loosened and the collar fell below your breasts, baring them to the cool air and the eyes of your protector. Your nipples had pebbled and you shivered as the cool air of the keep brushed over your skin. 

Criston stood you up and you allowed the dress to fall fully to your waist, smiling unashamedly as he continued to stare at your body. You wanted him to see you, to see every part of you. You loved him like you had loved no other, and you wanted to show him somehow. He led you to your bed, sitting on the edge and staring up at you. He bent forward and kissed the space between your breasts, rubbing his cheeks against the flesh on either side of his head. He breathed in the smell of your skin, kissing along the softness to your left nipple. He swirled his tongue over it, flicking it, before engulfing it with his mouth and sucking lightly. His mouth felt too hot against your skin and you moaned as you leaned back slightly to continue watching him. 

Criston pulled away and cupped your other breast, massaging it and rubbing the nipple with the pad of his thumb. It felt almost ticklish on the sensitive skin but sparks shot through you all the same. 

“Ser Criston,” you whimpered, pressing your chest further into his hand and hoping he would put his mouth back to the skin. 

“Yes, Princess, yes,” he said hurriedly, but instead of returning to your breasts, he bent at the waist and brought his face to your pussy. You gasped, his thumbs resting against either side and peeling your sticky lips apart. 

You had felt the slick begin to seep out of you and slowly spread from your hole and over your lips, but to see his face begin to press between your thighs, to feel his thumbs gently rub the soft skin and hear the way he inhaled deeply as he settled his chin on the crevice of your thighs had you moaning louder than you ever had before. 

“We must be quiet Princess,” he whispered, but you paid it no heed as he dove his tongue between your thighs right then. 

His tongue was hot and wet, the rough bumps rubbing deliciously against the sensitive skin of your pussy. He licked from bottom to top before focusing on a little nub near the top of the crevice, suckling on it so heat shot straight through you and your legs buckled. You were bowing over him now, nails digging into the skin of his back as you rested on his shoulder, panting and wailing. He lapped at your cunt like a dog drinking water, desperate and aggressive. He slurped and pressed his face as far as it would go into your flesh. You could feel his chin rub against the skin of your thighs, slipping and sliding in the juices that had dribbled out of you. From this angle only the tip of his tongue could reach your hole and he pushed it in just so, pulling it out and pushing it back in so your entrance clenched and unclenched over it, the rim becoming sensitive. 

“Ser Criston!” You wailed, bucking against his face as he moved it back and forth, his nose rubbing against that swollen little nub that made you feel like the world was bursting behind your eyes. 

You pressed your mouth to his back, and in a fleeting moment of clarity remembered that he needed to reach his release as well. You slid one of your hands between your bodies and grasped his cock, choking on a gasp when he moaned right into your flesh and the vibrations spread through every nerve ending. You grasped him tighter and he hissed. You mumbled apologies into his skin before beginning to jerk your hand back and forth along his shaft, listening to the squelch of not only his mouth on your pussy but his cum spreading over his shaft beneath your hand. The pleasure rose within you, his hips bucked frantically up into your hand, your legs twitched uncontrollably, your skin was on fire. Everything felt like it was moving too fast all of a sudden, a wave rising in your legs and stomach and deep in your core. He was moaning against you and the vibrations finally sent you over the edge, heat and overwhelming pleasure throbbing through you. Your fingers twitched and your arms felt like jelly and your ears were rushing with blood. You couldn’t hear Criston’s moans as he spurted onto your thighs and hands, as he pressed his face to your stomach and moaned. 

When your ears quieted you could hear the mingling of both of your panted breaths, could feel the saliva that had drooled from your mouth and smeared onto his back under your cheek. Your weight was completely resting over his shoulder and you could feel the stickiness all along your thighs, the breeze beginning to cool it and sending shivers down your spine. Your hand was sticky and you slowly peeled it away from his cock. Criston shivered and slowly brought you off his shoulder and into his lap. You stared into his eyes, deep brown and endless. He leaned down and kissed you, lips salty and slick. 

“Thank you, Ser Criston,” you said, smiling against his mouth.

Taglist: @autumnhymns

[creganslover]

My Queen

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x GN! Targaryen Dragonseed! Bastard! Reader

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Throwing your life away to travel to Dragonstone was not your initial idea, nor was claiming a dragon... and getting to bond with the Queen herself.

Word count: 3.0k

Warning/s: canon-divergence, foul language, graphic descriptions of death, lmk if i missed anything!

Note: first time writing for rhaenyra! i apologize if she might be ooc, but i really enjoyed writing this and had gotten taken away i think- anw, likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are greatly appreciated! <3

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

Falling into the dragon’s pit was not necessarily your idea.

Nor traveling to Dragonstone for that matter.

You were but one of the many common folk in King’s Landing, instead of sporting the signature platinum hair of the Targaryens, you sported their rare purple eyes instead, your hair was anything but platinum, but you weren’t royal, you were a bastard, often lingering gazes would be on you as you passed down the streets minding your own business.

Targaryen bastards weren’t uncommon, no, but you would all get the same looks of pity and shame even if they do not voice it out loud. 

Though you wouldn’t trade it for anything as your father had raised you, saying that your mother was a wonderful woman that gave you to him, however they did not get the ending of getting to be together till death.

Two and a half decades had passed as your father had fallen ill and shortly succumbed to it due to lack of treatment in which you desperately tried to work for.

And when the time came when you’ve heard rumors spreading through the streets of Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Black Queen, wishing to call upon anyone who had a form of Targaryen lineage to come to Dragonstone, especially those who were not afraid of death, those who would join were required to travel in two nights time.

It made you curious, the eldest daughter of Viserys calling upon Targaryen bastards and to be not afraid of death? You could almost chuckle as you traded your craft to a vendor on the street, until you heard she was finding those courageous enough to claim a dragon.

A fucking dragon. 

Something in the back of your mind nagged at you to throw all caution to the wind and try your luck in the game of roulette, to either die consumed by flames, or fight for the side of the Blacks with a dragon of your own. 

It was tempting. But last night as you peeked out your window to see people leaving their houses, of all ages, some also harboring silver hair, some not. Glancing to the knapsack you had perched upon the wall, filled with necessities you had prepared if you ever grew tired of King’s Landing, you bit the inside of your cheek. 

The footsteps began to fade out before you cursed and slung the bag over your shoulder, putting out your fires and candles before you glanced one last time at your house, hesitating.

Your father would have always wanted greater things for you, right? Though you’re not sure if those greater things involved risking your life for a dragon of all things. 

Slamming the door and clicking your locks shut, you quickly joined the throng of people, easily blending in as you reached past an exit out of King’s Landing, watching as you walked down the hill, the dawn barely breaking. A smart move leaving in the night without many eyes to bear witness. 

Getting in the boat taking you to the ship, you gave a last glance towards King’s Landing, your home. Your brows knitted before you let out a breath, glancing towards the people on the ship with you, some looking uncertain, some determined, some talking and possibly sharing the bizarre notion of it all. 

You sat alone by the front of the ship, arms resting on your knees as you sighed, shaking your head and possibly getting some sleep before you had arrived at your destination. 

Being shaken awake, you quickly complied, standing up and being a little disoriented from the trip, before your eyes had adjusted and there, you saw the intimidating Dragonstone Island. The castle sits on top of the hill, a mountain of smoke behind it, adding to its allure. 

The sun was up in the sky now, as you reached the shore, one by one getting out as your boots hit the white sand, moving forward as you all climbed up the steps towards the castle. Nearing it, you spot a figure up on the balcony, donned in red robes, platinum hair styled to a braid cascading down on one shoulder. 

Your eyes met, it was Rhaenyra Targaryen, assessing the strangers she was letting into her domain. You did not think about it much, truly you were the ones surprised she had even let you come this far. 

From then you were all inside, many knights standing guard as you were all led into a dimly lit room, and the faint deep growling rattling the walls could only mean one thing…

You were growing anxious, now backtracking your decision as you glanced at everyone in the room around you, they have surely heard it as well. 

The sound of approaching sets of footsteps pulled you from your dreaming, and there she was again, her Queensgard behind her walking down the stairs as you watched the scene unfold, another group coming from the other hall, dressed in long robes tied with red, some holding onto staff. You’ll soon catch whispers that it was the dragonkeepers. 

Your brows furrowed as the Queen herself and one from the dragonkeepers had conversed in High Valyrian, and by the tone of it, it looked like it was at a disagreement as the man gestured to all of you waiting in the room.  

After Rhaenyra had given her speech, most of the time her eyes always seemed to find yours as you stood at the back, and everytime it happened, there seemed to be a kindling energy within you. Perhaps it was just being in the close presence of royalty. 

“The dragon… named Vermithor, is the largest in the world after Vhagar, and… perhaps the most fierce,” Rhaenyra started. “He’s called the Bronze Fury.” Another deep grumbling in the distance could be heard. “We’ll go to him now.” 

As she started walking, she halts, turning to face all of you again. “May the gods bless you.” 

Following suit out into the hall and onto where a platform lay towards the deep cavern. The dragonpit, you all come close as Rhaenyra started to speak in High Valyrian, speaking of Vermithor. 

There was silence, until heavy footsteps grained the tunnel, your stance tensing as you never knew what awaited your faith. 

The deep roaring answered that. From the shadows came Vermithor, as large as she had depicted, its body partially hidden within the dark as it came to view, face scaled and horns as big shaping its head. Vermithor screeches as Rhaenyra commands the imposing creature, soon calming as she holds out her hand to palm against its snout. 

“Who among you would be first?” She asked, voice echoing in the dark tunnel. 

From then on, it was chaos. Vermithor flamed the first person to have gone up against him, before screams erupted, your senses jumping to overdrive as the thought of survival was paramount. This is what Rhaenyra had meant.

You dodged as the flames rained, Vermithor’s roars ringing in your ears, eyes scanning the area for some sort of cover as you saw the many knights preventing the other volunteers from being able to escape in order to live, fueling your spite. 

It was a gruesome scene as Vermithor not only burned, yet also decided to treat the folks as his food, a man’s scream fading as Vermithor swallowed him whole, before hunting the others down, their screams haunting. 

“Fuck!” You grumbled before you dashed to survival, instead being pushed and shoved all over, you tried to steady yourself, but you had stumbled, making your heel miss the platform. 

And that’s where you found yourself now after these events, a flickering torch in hand, running within the tunnels in the hopes to escape the clutches of death from a dragon. You had not even known if Vermithor had been claimed or everyone had been given death, and you dared not put notice on the sharp pain in your ankle as you had sprained it from your fall. 

You’ve lost track of time, not wondering how long or how far you’ve gone off to within the large tunnel. Your legs were starting to give out from exhaustion, your breathing uneven as you stepped onto the mud, making you try to stumble, about to land on your face when your foot had finally hit the ground.

Followed by what it sounded like cracking. Looking down, there were wisps of smoke, and oddly enough, large looking eggs nestled within the cocoon you had stepped on, making you furrow your brows as your body couldn’t even process the events this day had.

Up until you had heard a large grumbling behind you. Seven hells.

Steeling yourself with what little resolve you had left, you turned on your painful heel, torch in hand as you faced it. 

The dragon began to rouse itself, your eyes widening as you tried to move, its roar echoing and making you shrink onto yourself as your body was frozen, staring up at it as it had faced you fully. 

Its long neck moves fluidly as it stared you down, its gray scales gleaming from the cavity up in the tunnel. It was about to lunge at you.

Tired and weary, you’ve begun to accept your fate. 

Until its snout finally reached you and—

Poked you. It sent you tumbling back against the ground with a huff, making you scramble back and try to hoist yourself back up again until it happened again, the dragon’s snout nudging against your form, knocking you down and rolling until you had your back against the wall. Its screeching even sounded amused, as if making fun of you.

However, it stopped as you had your eyes screwed shut. 

You had fully thought you had died and gone to the Seven heavens, peeling your eyes open, your heart stopped in your chest. You watched as the dragon crooned and bowed its head toward you-

Realization had come dawning in, it chose you. A dragon had chosen you.

You did it, you had claimed a dragon. If your father would’ve witnessed such a thing, he would have no doubt about it. He always knew you were born for greater things. 

Due to your exhaustion, you could only laugh breathlessly, finally being able to calm down without the fear of death looming onto you.

“Get me out of here, will you?” You jokingly said, taking in deep breaths as you slowly stood up, hissing at the pain in your ankle, hesitating, but starting to limp towards the dragon as it eyed you, craning its neck, showing the apparent saddle on its back, worn and rusty. It seemed like she hadn’t had a rider in a long time. 

Before you knew it, you were on a dragon’s back, shooting out into the cavity as the grey-scaled dragon roared at feeling the breeze outside, its wings spread full as it gathered air and momentum. 

You literally had to hold on for dear life as you began to get woozy, exclaiming in triumph as you had rounded Dragonstone. 

Rhaenyra had been alerted of this as she ran out the balcony, watching as Silverwing screeched with its new rider on the she-dragon’s back. 

After the scene, you had been brought down and onto your own personal chambers where you would be staying, as a Maester had been bought for you to treat your ankle, giving you milk of the poppy to numb the pain. 

You were also given handmaidens that helped you into cleaner clothes, thanking them as you tried to refuse their service, not used to being treated as such in the span of a few hours. 

Resting against your bed, you stared up at the ceiling, wondering where your life would lead to now, it was such a funny feeling that you would believe it if someone had told you it were nothing but a dream. 

The door creaking as its response to being opened pulled you from your thoughts, making you glance and wonder if it's just the maester coming to check upon you, when your eyes almost popped out of its sockets to see Rhaenyra herself. 

Sitting up right and swinging your feet off the bed, you cleared your throat. “Your grace,” You greeted, standing, though weakly as your ankle was still sore and wrapped in bandages. Rhaenyra held her hand up, motioning. “You are hurt, stay seated.” Her voice comes in a soft tone. 

Following as you sit back down upon your bed, Rhaenyra glides through the room, hands clasped together. It felt like being surrounded by an angel, she did certainly look like one as you were able to get a closer look every folk would want to kill for, even. 

“You have done a good job,” Began Rhaenyra. “Two of you have managed to claim Vermithor and Silverwing.” You made a mental note that your dragon was named Silverwing, fitting.

“I did not think I would find my way out of it alive if I am honestly speaking, your grace.” You replied, making Rhaenyra nod in response, noticing your eyes were a deep shade of purple. “Those lives lost today are for a greater cause in the future, it would prevent further bloodshed.” She responded. 

Taking a deep breath, you understood her point. Staring up to find her still looking at you, sending you to avert her gaze. “Your eyes are quite comely.” Rhaenyra had suddenly said, catching you both off guard. 

An awkward silence rose, before Rhaenyra cleared her throat. “I apologize,” She said as you managed to let out a small grin, shaking your head. “No harm done, your grace.”

This in turn made Rhaenyra smile, finding light in the situation. Clearing her throat, she shifted to a more serious expression. “As you have claimed Silverwing, from this day forth you are to train the ways of dragonriders, learn High Valyrian, and pledge your loyalty to your Queen.” 

The new responsibilities you had seemed a far reach back then, but here you were now stood in front of Rhaenyra Targaryen herself, asking you to pledge your loyalty to her. 

Carefully moving, you had bent the knee in front of her, not putting much strain on your swollen ankle as you bowed. “I pledge my fealty to you, the true Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, I offer all that I am, to aid you in your cause.” 

Rhaenyra looked relieved as you bent the knee for her. “Stand.” She commanded, making you follow a second later, meeting her eyes again. “You will begin at once when your ankle has healed, for now you shall rest and someone will call upon you.”

With a bow to her grace, you watched as Rhaenyra turned and left your chambers. 

This was the beginning of a new chapter in your life. 

As your ankle had healed, the lessons did began, with Maester Gerardys teaching you key command words in High Valyrian, practicing the phrases during the afternoons, whilst you were practicing dragonriding in the morning. 

You had also managed to meet those able to claim House Targaryen’s dragons, Hugh who had claimed Vermithor, and Addam who had claimed Seasmoke. 

Though it seemed like Rhaenyra had taken a liking to you in the midst of these preparations, your fiery spirit is something to always look out for as Silverwing proved to match your energy. 

The feast she held between you and the other three as well as her son Jacaerys and her step daughter Baela. You had managed to hold a conversation with Rhaenyra well, telling her of your background as a trader in King’s Landing and how your father had solely raised you. Jacaerys had even begun to respect you even if he was still apprehensive in welcoming new dragonriders who were not of blood. 

Nonetheless, Rhaenyra found herself taken by your charm and wit, even taking the time to show you around Dragonstone herself whenever she was free from council meetings, your presence a respite from the pressure she had been feeling, translating her appreciation in lingering touches and stares.

There was one time you had been flying around Dragonstone, getting to try banking left and right as you tugged on the ropes on your newly reformed saddle, when Silverwing had decided to do a barrel roll, sending you both spinning in the sky with her strong form growling in delight. 

Rhaenyra had been watching that time, and her heart nearly leapt to her throat as you lost hold onto your saddle, her grip tightening against the stone ledge, eyes widening.

Though the sight of you pumping your fist in the air and whooping successfully had her releasing a breath she wasn’t aware she had held in watching you. The spike of worry led her to assess what you had meant to her. 

“Did you like the trick I did up there, your grace?” You casually asked as you met her, smiling and beginning to shrug off your gloves. “You had me worried at the start, but you and Silverwing do make a great pair.” Rhaenyra replied. “In fact, your move would make a great maneuver to dodge whatever the Greens might throw at us.” 

You couldn’t tell if she had been joking or not, but the slight smirk on her face made you reciprocate, your stomach oddly knotting at the feeling. 

“Perhaps I can teach you how to do so on Syrax, yet I believe the safety of our Queen is of greatest importance.” You lightly teased, feeling like you were walking on eggshells. 

But that does make Rhaenyra laugh, cheeks flushing pink, in truth, she had begun to get fond of you, and she hummed in thought. “My safety is of great importance, yes, but you’ve proven yourself a capable dragonrider and warrior,” She gestured, as you had been taking combat lessons to the side in your free time, keeping yourself in shape as well as your skills. 

“I would be at peace and content knowing I have you to protect and fight for me.” It was a simple phrase, yet it seemed to click at the two of you that it held something even deeper under the surface. 

Both of you could feel it. “And I am honored to be one of those protecting and fighting for you, my Queen.” 

[slavicdelight]

The High Tower and the Dragon's Heir

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x male!Targ!reader

Summary: Lady Alicent Hightower was the closest friend of Princess Rhaenyra, yet she couldn't help but fall for her older brother, Y/N.

Warnings: none, following canon divergence

ღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღ

Alicent Hightower gracefully strolled the corridors of the illustrious Red Keep, her morning lessons with her inseparable companion, Princess Rhaenyra, having just concluded. The echoes of footsteps accompanied her every stride as she made her way towards the luncheon appointment with her father, Ser Otto Hightower, the King's Hand. The castle bursted with vibrant activity—servants hurriedly carried out their duties, knights stood in vigilant postures, and nobles engaged in animated conversations, exchanging the latest court gossip.

As she ascended a majestic staircase, the voice of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Westerling, reached her ears. With a soft smile, Alicent reciprocated the courteous greeting. The anticipation of her father's chambers lingered in the air as she approached, each step echoing with the weight of her familial responsibilities.

However, the routine of her morning took an unexpected turn when, just before she reached the sanctum of her father, a sudden force collided with her, threatening to send her sprawling. A gasp escaped her lips, but before the cold stone floor could meet her, strong and reassuring hands prevented her from falling. These hands belonged to none other than Y/N Targaryen, the eldest son of the reigning monarch, King Viserys.

In that fleeting moment of unexpected encounter, the bustling ambiance of the Red Keep faded into the background. Alicent found herself lost in his gaze. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, and as Y/N steadied her with an effortless strength, Alicent's heart quickened, realizing that even in the most predictable corridors, destiny had an uncanny way of intertwining lives in an unexpected matter.

"Oh my, Lady Alicent. I'm so sorry; I didn't notice you," the young Prince expressed with a charming smile, nearly as enchanting as the prince himself. His gaze held a hypnotic quality that left Alicent momentarily flustered. Deep down, she possessed an immense fondness for him, but the fear of rejection and the potential repercussions from his younger sister stopped her from ever expressing them.

"No, my Prince. It was I who should've been more careful," Alicent nervously replied, her voice betraying a subtle hint of admiration. The unspoken tension between them lingered in the air. Her father's disapproval of the prince added a layer of complexity to the situation. Otto Hightower believed him to be the same as his uncle, Prince Daemon, hence the mutual hostility.

"Were you heading to your father, perhaps?" the prince inquired, his curiosity evident. Alicent hesitated, aware of the strained relationship between her father, Ser Otto Hightower, and the prince. Otto's opinions about Y/N's fitness for becoming king often clashed with the prince's aspirations.

"Yes, my prince," Alicent replied cautiously, choosing her words with care. The prince graciously took a step back, allowing her to continue her journey towards her father's chambers.

"Then do not let me stop you," he said with a small, understanding smile, his gaze lingering for a moment before gracefully descending the stairs, resuming his own path through the corridors of the Red Keep. That brief encounter, had left Lady Alicent soft in her knees.

Entering the Hand's chambers, Alicent immediately noticed her father seated at the table, a large variety of dishes laid out. She greeted him respectfully and took her place on the opposite side. "Alicent," he acknowledged with a nod, his eyes shining with a mix of sternness and affection. "How was your morning?" he inquired, motioning her to being eating.

"It was fine. I studied with the Princess the whole morning after breaking fast with her and Queen Aemma," Alicent replied, offering a light summary of her activities. The mention of encountering Prince Y/N on her way to her father's chambers prompted a subtle change in his demeanor. His brow lifted, and a stern look accompanied his response. "Prince Y/N is not a good influence. I advise you to avoid him," he coldly said, his voice carrying a weight of disapproval as Alicent cast her gaze downward. "Very well, father," she agreed, and the remainder of their lunch unfolded in a heavy silence.

As Alicent's thoughts drifted back to the violet-eyed prince, she couldn't comprehend her father's disdain for him. In her eyes, he was gallant and the epitome of a perfect prince. The unspoken tension between father and daughter lingered, leaving Alicent with a sense of conflict between her loyalty to her father and a growing curiosity about Y/N.

A fortnight later, the joyous occasion of a tournament took place in order to celebrate the King's anticipated new heir gripped the Red Keep. Nobles from far and wide were invited, marking the event as a grand affair. Queen Aemma, began her labours early in the morning, enduring the suffering alone, as King Viserys presided over the jousting festivities. Prince Daemon, displaying exceptional skills, unseated Alicent's brother Gwayne from his horse.

Victorious, the Prince then diverted his attention towards the stands where Alicent sat. With a charming smile, he asked for her favor, stating, "Lady Alicent, I'm sure your favor would ensure my victory today." Casting a fleeting glance at her father, Alicent handed Daemon her favor. Unbeknownst to her, a certain prince of the crown observed the exchange with a glare and a clenched jaw.

The joy of the tournament swiftly gave way to a somber hush when a messenger arrived bearing the tragic news of Queen Aemma's death. The atmosphere within the Red Keep became grim, mournful mood reigned for weeks. The funeral, held on a distant hill, marked a solemn occasion where the lifeless forms of the Queen and the young Prince lay upon the pyre, awaiting the embrace of dragonfire from Syrax and Shadowspine, the loyal companions of the Queen's surviving children.

Following the ceremony, Alicent found herself once again in her father's chambers, the weight of grief hanging heavily in the air. "How is Rhaenyra?" her father inquired, slight concern etched across his face. Alicent, her fingers idly picking at her fingers, replied, "She just lost her mother." The sorrow that lingered in her words mirrored the collective grief that shrouded the entire Keep.

Not being one to hide his ambitions, her father suggested, "Perhaps you would like to offer the King some comfort. Losing a wife is a terrible thing. He would surely rejoice in a visit." Alicent reluctantly agreed to undertake this solemn task, driven by her desire to please her father. As she turned to leave, she overheard her father's additional instruction, his voice low and laden with subtle implication—indicating that she should dress herself in one of her late mother's gowns.

Rather than heading to the King's chambers as initially intended, Alicent found herself standing before the doors that guarded Prince Y/N's residence. A guard announced her presence, and she entered, greeted by a scene of disarray. The room resembled the aftermath of a storm—furniture upended, decorations scattered in chaotic way. Amidst the disorder, she discovered her prince, seated on the floor, his back against the bed stand, his once-silky hair now tangled, and his eyes holding a haunted look. The scent of alcohol lingered in the air.

Taking a seat beside the prince, Alicent met his gaze, prompting him to question her presence with a strained voice, revealing the results of earlier screams. "I came here to see how you're holding up, my Prince," she replied calmly, her eyes scanning the wreckage around them. He only scoffed in response.

Drawing on her own experiences, Alicent shared, "When my own mother died, people looked at me with pity. I didn't want it. All I wanted was to hear they were sorry." Her empathetic words hung in the air, and she continued, "I'm so sorry for your loss, my Prince," concluding her condolences with a soft look, her eyes reflecting genuine compassion. Y/N stared at her in silence, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, as he began to unveil the weight of his heartache.

"My father's quest for a second son is to blame for this tragedy. He never considered me worthy of the throne," he confessed, his voice full of bitterness and sorrow. "He wished for another son, a better son. One he could put on the throne after himself. I was never enough. Rhaenyra wasn't enough. He killed my mother for a new heir. And now, my brother is also dead," he uttered.

Alicent's heart ached for him, the immensity of his suffering echoing through the confessions. Despite already bearing the responsibilities of being the Heir, this added layer of tragedy made the burden almost unbearable. In her earnest attempt to offer solace, she stood by both Y/N and Princess Rhaenyra, a pillar of support during these dark times.

As Y/N was officially declared Heir before the realm, Alicent stood steadfastly by his side, witnessing the unfolding of destiny. She remained present during the uncomfortable prospect of their father's remarriage, understanding the siblings hesitation. The more time they spent together, the threads of friendship between Alicent and Y/N began to intertwine with the delicate threads of love.

When the time came for the Prince to choose a wife, he declared his intent to marry Lady Alicent, much to Rhaenyra's dismay. While Viserys rejoiced in the prospect, Otto, though reluctantly, agreed to the union. Though not a fervent supporter of the Prince, Otto recognized the strategic significance—marrying his daughter to the future king ensured the placement of his bloodline on the throne.

The union of Alicent and Y/N was immortalized in what became known as the White Wedding. It was a testament to the pure and evident love that bound the newlyweds. The ceremony resonated with the harmonious union of two souls, their vows exchanged amidst the sacred walls of the Sept.

Shorty after their nuptials, the arrival of Aegon Targaryen marked a new chapter in the royal family. The beautiful boy, with the coloring of his father and the distinctive facial structure of his mother, embodied the perfect mix of the royal couple. Aegon, the newest Prince, became a living testament to the love that flourished within the Targaryen lineage.

As Alicent carried the weight of their second child, King Viserys sought to hold a celebratory hunt on his grandson Aegon's second name day. The relationships within the Targaryen family began to mend, albeit slowly, and the noticeable favoritism towards Rhaenyra, perhaps due to her resemblance to her late mother, didn't escape Y/N's notice. Despite the slight discomfort, he chose to focus on his growing family, diverting his attention away from the nuances of favoritism and concentrating on the joyous moments that bound them together.

The grand hunt orchestrated by King Viserys brought a sense of delight to Otto Hightower, who relished the opportunity for both entertainment and strategic alliances. The men, engaged in the pursuit of a White Hart—a symbolic creature representing royalty—set out with purpose, leaving the women to find solace within the safety of the camp.

As Alicent sat beside her husband, Y/N, who held their young son Aegon in his lap, an unexpected intrusion disrupted the peace inside the tent. Rhaenyra, the spirited Princess, burst in with determination, her grievances clear. Viserys, in his pursuit to secure her a suitable match, had orchestrated a connection with Jason Lannister, much to Rhaenyra's vocal displeasure. The fiery Princess asserted her autonomy, rejecting the notion of being treated as a prize to be sold to the highest bidder.

The repercussions of this confrontation left Alicent aware of the strain in her once-unbreakable bond with Rhaenyra. The princess, fueled by a desire to ascend to the throne, resented the twist of fate that seemingly diverted Y/N's affections toward Alicent, who had become the new Princess consort.

In the next years, Rhaenyra's fate took a turn as she was forced into a marriage with her cousin, Ser Laenor Velaryon, because of previous liaison with her uncle Daemon in a pleasure house that added further complexity to the situation. The marriage, arranged against her will, led to the birth of bastards, whom she attempted to pass as legitimate—a move not lost on the eyes of the court.

Despite Viserys's blindness, the court recognized the discrepancy in the children's Valyrian features. Whispers spread, hinting at a connection with Ser Harwing Strong, the Commander of the Gold Cloaks, who served closely under the Princess.

These choices made by Rhaenyra made Alicent bitter. The apparent disregard for duty exhibited by Rhaenyra, coupled with the ability to evade consequences, fueled Alicent's resentment. Yet, in the face of this, the legitimacy of the children born to Y/N and Alicent remained unquestionable. The unmistakable resemblance of each child to their father nullified any potential doubts that might have arisen.

As their children matured, distinct personalities emerged, painting a portrait of the Targaryen legacy. Aegon, the mischievous firstborn, delighted in playing pranks and causing mayhem within the castle. Despite occasional mischief, his loyalty to the family prevailed, a testament to the intricate balance of his character.

Helaena, their only daughter, embodied sweetness and warmth. Though closed off to many, she harbored a great heart, often murmuring riddles that, while dismissed by most, held significance to her parents who recognized her as a dreamer with visions of her own.

Aemond, a mirror image of his father, shared not only physical similarities but also akin personalities. The only distinction lay in Aemond's shyness. His passion for history forged a special bond with King Viserys, who favored the small Prince. Their shared love for learning brought them together in frequent discussions about the boy's recent discoveries.

The youngest, Daeron, charmed all who crossed his path, earning the title of the most popular son among their subjects. His charm and charisma propelled him to Oldtown, serving his mother's uncle as a cupbearer and squire.

Amidst the dynamic growth of their children, Y/N and Alicent's love stood resilient. Any hopes Rhaenyra harbored of a falling out between the couple were in vain; their bond, an indestructible force, continued to strengthen.

The visible strain within the ruling family had spilled beyond the walls of the Red Keep, earning them the titles of "blacks" and "reds" among the common folk and nobility alike. Y/N, recognizing the fractures within his family, attempted reconciliation with his younger sister, but Rhaenyra remained consumed by anger towards him for marrying another and harbored resentment for Alicent, his wife for being said woman. The rift seemed irreparable.

Despite the familial tensions, Y/N maintained a close involvement in the training of his sons, personally overseeing their progress with the assistance of Ser Criston Cole, who had shifted his allegiance from Rhaenyra to the royal family. Aegon and Aemond exhibited remarkable progress, overshadowing their cousins.

During a training session, as Ser Criston instructed the young princes, Y/N was reluctantly pulled away by the demands of his duties as the Heir. King Viserys, observing from the terrace, keenly followed the lesson. The knight, calling upon Aegon, challenged him to a sparring match and taunted, "Let's see if you can touch me. You and your brother." The confident Prince, Aegon, responded with a cocky assurance, "I've won my first bound, Ser Criston. My opponent sues for mercy."

Undeterred, Ser Criston introduced a new challenge, pitting both Aegon and Aemond against him. The two princes advanced, swords in hand, but the seasoned knight skillfully blocked each of their attacks, showcasing his experience and expertise. The training ground became a battleground of skills, the clash of steel echoing the intricate dynamics of power, loyalty, and the indomitable spirit of the Targaryen lineage.

The training ground, alive with the clang of swords and the shuffling of feet, fell into a momentary silence as Ser Harwin approached, offering instructions to the brown-haired princes. His voice redirected Ser Criston's attention toward the younger boys. "It seems like the younger boys could use your attention, Ser," Harwin remarked as he walked closer. A subtle tension hung in the air as Criston questioned, "Are you questioning my method of instruction?"

In response, Criston motioned for Aegon to face Jaecerys, declaring it an "eldest son against eldest son" spar. The white-haired Prince's age and strength became evident as he overpowered the younger Jaecerys. However, as Aegon advanced, he found himself roughly seized by the shoulder and pulled away by Ser Harwin. Aegon, outraged by the intervention, protested loudly, resulting in a reprimand from the King.

Tensions flared further when Criston began questioning the Commander of the Gold Cloaks's interest in the princes' training, suggesting affections that a man might harbor for his children. The insinuation proved too much for Ser Harwin, who snapped and attacked Criston. The incident led to Ser Harwin's banishment from King's Landing, and a few days later, he perished within the walls of Harrenhal along with his father.

More sorrowful news followed swiftly. A raven brought the grim information of Lady Laena Velaryon's death, casting a pall over King's Landing. The weight of Laena's death cast a somber shadow over Y/N, who had considered her another sister growing up. The entire family traveled to Driftmark to pay their respects, attending a funeral marred by Lord Vaemond's continuous accusations directed at Princess Rhaenyra and her bastard sons. Prince Daemon's laughter, strategically employed to deflect attention, added a layer of tension to the already heart-wrenching day.

Once the children retired for the night, Alicent found a moment to speak with her husband. In the quiet confines of their chamber, she gently inquired, "Are you alright, my love?" Y/N, standing by a window overlooking the view of Driftmark, confessed, "She was one of my closest friends, and she died alone. Without her family or friends, because Daemon denied her return. She didn't deserve such a fate."

Alicent, though not as intimately acquainted with Lady Laena, offered words of solace, acknowledging her bravery and kindness. Y/N, appreciating his wife's comforting presence, sighed and turned to look at her. "I'm sure you're right, darling," he said, caressing her face. In that moment, they found solace in each other's embrace, a comforting respite from the sorrow that permeated their hearts.

With a shared understanding, Y/N guided Alicent to bed, where they surrendered to the embrace of sleep, seeking refuge from the weariness that accompanied the emotional journey. Their intertwined forms, nestled in peaceful repose, reflected the enduring strength of their bond in the face of life's inevitable trials.

The tranquility that enveloped Y/N and Alicent was shattered abruptly when a maid, panic-stricken, banged on their door, delivering news of a grave accident involving their son. Swiftly dressing into presentable robes, they rushed towards the hall where their children were present. The sight that awaited them was horrifying—Aemond, their beloved son, was a bloody mess, missing an eye. Alicent's anguished scream pierced the air as she ran towards her injured child.

Demanding answers, Y/N interrogated the Knights, learning that the Prince had been mauled in a brawl with his cousins. The King, arriving on the scene, angrily questioned the guards for allowing such an incident. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys soon joined, but Y/N's attention shifted to the absence of Princess Rhaenyra. When she finally appeared, followed by Prince Daemon, their disheveled appearance hinted at a liaison that further fueled Y/N's anger. How could they disrespect Lady Laena's memory like this?

Amid the chaos, Rhaenyra declared the incident a "regrettable accident," but Alicent argued it was a planned attack. Rhaenyra defended her sons, claiming they were being attacked with vile insults against their legitimacy "Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned on where he heard such slanders". Y/N's anger flared; his sister intended to torture his gravely wounded son over a truth that was evident.

Rhaenyra's attempt to extract information from Prince Aemond, who had heard the alleged slanders, only heightened tensions. Y/N, protective of his son, forbade any harm to befell Aemond. As the King sought apologies and forgiveness, Alicent snapped, demanding justice and ordering the eye of Lucerys Velaryon to conduct it. Chaos ensued as Alicent, fueled by rage, advanced towards Rhaenyra with a knife. Y/N noticed his uncle making way to two women to undoubtedly aid Rhaenyra, which he couldn't let happen and stopped him before Daemon could reach her.

The struggle between Alicent and Rhaenyra unfolded, the room becoming a battleground of emotions and grievances. In the midst of the chaos, Aemond, now with one eye, offered comfort to his mother, stating "Don't mourn me mother. I might've lost an eye but I gained a dragon". Y/N joined the embrace, and as his father declared the matter over, the fractured family clung to the remnants of peace amidst the aftermath of pain and turmoil.

As the years unfolded, the Targaryen family found solace and unity in each other's company. Every meal became a cherished time for discussion, laughter, and shared moments, further strengthening the familial bonds that had weathered storms and emerged resilient.

Aegon and Helaena's marriage flourished, blessed with their two beautiful children, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Aegon transformed into a caring and attentive husband, shedding his earlier tendencies to become the perfect Prince fit to one day ascend the throne. Aemond, despite the challenges posed by his limited vision, emerged as a formidable warrior under his father's tutelage. Determined not to be hindered by his condition, he trained with unparalleled dedication, surpassing many in skill and prowess.

Y/N and Alicent, beaming with pride, reveled in the achievements of their children. However, their joy was tempered by the somber responsibility that befell them. With King Viserys succumbing to sickness, he lay bedridden, casting a long shadow over the realm. The inevitable reality loomed—the time was approaching when a new monarch would ascend the throne.

Amidst the bittersweet echoes of Viserys's declining health, the Targaryen family stood united, ready to face the challenges that awaited them. The transition of power loomed on the horizon, and the legacy of House Targaryen stood at the threshold of a new chapter in the annals of Westeros.

The arrival of a raven bearing Ser Vaemond Velaryon's challenging petition for the Driftwood Throne thrust the Red Keep into a state of heightened anxiety. The assertion that Rhaenyra, Daemon, and their children would return to the heart of the realm brought a cloud of unease over the castle, especially given the recent mysterious death of Laenor Velaryon.

In the midst of the commotion, Alicent navigated through the corridors toward the King's chamber, where she knew Rhaenyra and Daemon would be discussing the pressing matter of King Viserys's condition. Upon entering, she greeted them with courtesy, acknowledging the lapse of time since their last encounter. Daemon responded with a nonchalant hum, while Rhaenyra inquired about the authority overseeing the trial of her son.

A new voice cut through the tension as Y/N entered, a smirk playing on his lips. He revealed himself as the authority presiding over the trial, promising a fair judgment even as he acknowledged the accusations thrown at his wife. The room held its breath, and Alicent, standing beside her husband, added, "We have pressing matters to attend to, but please, make yourself at home." With that, the married couple walked away, leaving the guests to navigate the looming trial and the shadows of familial discord that cast their pall over the Red Keep.

The throne room buzzed with tension as the petitions unfolded, each speaker presenting their case before Y/N, who sat on the throne in his father's stead. The weight of judgment rested heavily on his shoulders. Lord Vaemond Velaryon was the first to address the court, delivering a lengthy discourse on bloodlines and the survival of House Velaryon.

However, the proceedings took an unexpected turn when, during Rhaenyra's turn to present her defense, the door opened, and in walked King Viserys. Ready to defend his favorite child, the ailing monarch cast a shadow over the proceedings. The air thickened with anticipation as the confrontation unfolded.

In a swift and brutal turn of events, Vaemond found himself condemned for openly declaring the princess's sons as bastards. The throne room, once filled with the echoes of legal arguments, now bore witness to the irrevocable consequences of familial discord and political maneuvering. As the lifeblood of House Velaryon spilled in pursuit of power and legitimacy, the court faced the stark reality that the struggle for succession and survival could exact a heavy toll on those entangled in the webs of Westerosi politics.

The atmosphere in the dining hall was thick with tension, mirroring the strained relationships within the Targaryen family. Viserys, lying in his seat of honor, served as the symbolic divide between two estranged siblings, Rhaenyra and Y/N, as the air was charged with unspoken grievances.

Jace and Luke, Baela and Rhaena, each engaged in their own conversations, while Aegon and Helaena shared a tender moment, the Prince gently rubbing his wife's hand. Aemond and Daemon, ever vigilant, sat observing, their tension a reflection of the underlying conflicts.

As King Viserys was carried in, the room stood in a display of respect. The king began his speech, adressing his family. “It’s good to see you all together. My heart aches when I see the faces dearest to me so full of envy and drifting apart form each other. House of the Dragon must be united, so let us forget all and stay strong. If not for the realm, the for this old man, who loves you all dearly.“ But the damage had been done, and the fractures within the family ran too deep to be easily mended.

Rhaenyra's toast, seemingly a gesture of reconciliation, momentarily shifted the mood. Alicent responded gracefully, highlighting the common ground between them as mothers, but the facade of harmony was shattered by a seemingly innocent gesture—a pig brought before Prince Aemond, triggering memories of the Pink Dread incident.

Aemond's explosive reaction disrupted the fragile peace. The room fell into an uneasy silence as he stood, expressing a "final tribute" to the health of his nephews, ending the speech with an insult towards the boys calling them "Strong". Chaos erupted as the young princes clashed, and the adults scrambled to intervene. The disastrous dinner culminated in Princess Rhaenyra's decision to retreat to Dragonstone, leaving behind a shattered illusion of family unity. The scars of the past ran too deep, and the once-grand gesture of a family dinner had unraveled into a painful reminder of the irreparable divisions within House Targaryen.

The dimly lit corridors echoed with quiet footsteps as Y/N made his way to his father's chamber. Upon entering, a solemn atmosphere enveloped the room, and Y/N approached King Viserys. As he assisted the ailing monarch in preparing for sleep, Viserys muttered incoherent phrases, and amidst the confusion, Y/N discerned a recurring theme—Aegon's prophecy.

In the hushed moments of their interaction, the weight of impending succession hung in the air. Viserys, in his final moments, seemed to impart a significant task to his son, urging him to fulfill the prophecy. The murmurings faded as the night unfolded, and King Viserys the Peaceful drew his last breath.

As dawn approached, the realm awaited the news of a new leader who would step forward to succeed the late monarch. The corridors, once traversed by Y/N in anticipation, now held the echoes of transition and the uncertainty that accompanied the changing tides of leadership within House Targaryen.

ღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღ

A/N: This one is slightly longer, but I couldn't help but give Alicent and her kids the husband and father they deserved. We all could agree that Viserys absolutely sucked in these roles. Thank you for all the support and it would mean the world to me if you checked out my other works ♡

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Alicent Hightower X Prostitute!Reader: Secret touches

Warnings: smut, oral ( f receiving), face sitting, Alicent being kind off inexperienced, female anatomy, female reader, no use of y/n, Crispy Cole makes an appearance (a brief one), nipple play, cum eating.

Word count: 2K

You’re not used to being in the Castle. In reality this was your first time stepping into these halls. You tug at the neckline of your dress. You aren’t used to being so covered. Being a worker in the street of silk meant you often found yourself with as minimal clothes as possible. After so many years you’d grown used to being bare most of the time. But you couldn’t walk in such a sacred space with such little clothing so you’d opted for a dress that covered you better. 

You trailed behind the guard in silence, eyes taking in your surroundings. You wondered why you’d been called here. You’d lain with the Targeryens before but always outside of the castle walls. That's the way it was supposed to be. The royals prided themselves in being discreet about these things. Or at least they thought they were being discreet about it but in reality everyone knew of their trips to the street of silk. 

The guard stopped in front of a door, knocking on it. You waited for a moment before a voice rang through the hall.

“Enter.”

You recognized the voice instantly. Alicent Hightower was behind that door. Your eyes widened a bit at the realization. For some reason you’d expected to have been called over by one of the men of the castle. But the longer you thought about it the more it made sense that Alicent has been the one to request you. She was probably after secrets her children kept from her. And who better to answer her questions than someone like you who dealt with secrets on the daily. 

You walked into the room, eye scanning the place until your eyes fell on Alicents red hair. You heard the door close behind you, telling your the guard had left. Alicent turned to face you, her eyes looking you up and down. 

“Your Grace.”

You gave a small bow, knowing it was better to be formal than to suffer the consequences. Alicent walked around the room, nervously picking at her hands. You stayed still, awaiting any command from her. 

“You work in the street of silk.”

“Yes, your grace.”

“So you’ve been with men.”

“Yes, Your Grace. Many men have come for my services.”

Silence filled the room for a moment as Alicent thought of how to make this next question not so obvious.

“What about women?”

Your brows furrowed for a moment, trying to understand why Alicent would ask something like that. But then she turned around to face you and you caught onto the look on her face, understanding immediately. You gave her a small smirk, eyes switching to a more sultry gaze.

“Yes, I've pleasured women before, Your Grace.”

You could see the way Alicents breath hitched a bit at your words. The action pleased you greatly. You always adored the effect you had on people. Especially important people. Alicent stared at you for a moment, trying to decide if she was really going to do this. You were already here, it would be a waste not to.

“Take your clothes off.”

You smiled at Alicent, hands moving to remove your dress. It took you a bit longer than it usually did because of all the layers that made up your dress. Once you had finally managed to remove the layers you let them pool on the ground. You stepped out of the pile, standing before Alicent fully nude. You watched Alicent take in the sight of you.

“Do I please you, Your Grace?”

Alicents throat went dry at the question. Words seemed to get stuck in her throat, not allowing her to answer you verbally. Instead she nodded her head at you, her hand moving to grip at her dress. You caught onto the action, beginning to move towards her.

“Would you like me to help you get undressed?”

Alicent looked startled for a moment and you couldn’t help but think you’d misunderstood her intentions with you. But before you could dwell on the thought for too long Alicent managed to open her mouth.

“Yes.”

The words came out in a breathy whisper, making it clear the effect your naked body had on her. You moved forward, closing the gap between the two of you. Alicent turned around so that you could unlace her dress. Your hand moved over her skin gently, causing goosebumps to appear on her arms. As her skin was revealed to you you leaned down to kiss it. The action caused Alicent to close her eyes and suck in a breath. You could feel the tense way her body shifted.

“Have you been with a woman before, Your Grace?”

“No.”

“Don’t worry, I'll be very gentle.”

Remarkably your words seemed to calm her a bit, her shoulders relaxing against your touch. Once you’d removed her clothing completely you took a step back. Alicent felt you retreat from her, her head moving to the side so she could look at you. She seemed a bit shy,a blush coating her cheeks as she felt you stare at her.

“May I see you, Your Grace?”

“Are you not already?”

You gave her a small smile.

“I mean I wish to gaze at your eyes as I look at you.”

You wanted her to turn to face you but you could tell she was still in new territory and that started her.

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing I haven't seen before.”

Your words seemed to remind Alicent that this was just a job to you. There was nothing happening here that you’d consider wrong. You would not judge her, just as she did not judge you. That thought calmed her, allowing her to step into her more confident self. She turned to face, proudly displaying her body to you. Your eyes lingered on her frame, moving over her body as you took in her beauty. You moved forward once again, your hand resting on Alicents waist. She watched you sink onto your knees before her, your head tilted up so you could gaze at her.

“You’re stunning, Your Grace.”

Alicent gasped as you placed a kiss on her stomach. You wound your hands around her, your tongue moving over her skin. You rose your body slowly, kissing the valley of her breasts before moving to take her breast in your mouth. Alicents hand moved to grab onto your head as you sucked on her breast, your tongue circling around her nipple. You felt her body fall back a bit as your hands moved to caress her body. Alicent grabbed onto the dresser behind her to steady herself. You’d barely even touched her and she was already having a hard time standing. You noticed this, causing you to unlatch your lips from her chest.

“Would you like to lay down, Your Grace?”

“That might be best.”

You moved away from her making your way to the bed. Alicent watched you climb onto the bed and settle down. She eyes you curiously, not understanding what you were doing. 

“Come take a seat.”

She did as you asked, climbing onto the bed and moving to sit next to you. She gazed at your relaxed frame for a moment before looking at your face. You had a smile plastered on your face.

“Have I done something amusing?”

“You could say that.”

“Well whats so funny?”

“When i asked you to sit i didn’t mean on the bed.”

Where else would you want her to…

Oh. Oh.

Alicents eyes widened as she understood. Her face turned a deep shade of red and all you could do was keep smiling up at her. It took her a moment to gather herself. Once she did she looked at you.

“I’ve never done it that way before.”

“First time for everything isn’t there?”

She supposed you were right. A year ago she would have never imagined herself doing something like this, yet here she was. Alicent climbed onto your chest, her legs resting on either side of you. She looked down at you for guidance. You placed your hands on her thighs, holding onto her. She lifted her body a bit, inching herself up until her nose was close to touching the wall. You tugged her down onto your face.

The moment Alicent felt your tongue on her she couldn’t help but moan. You lapped at her pussy with great expertise, tongue moving  in a manner that brought Alicent great pleasure. She grabbed onto the headboard, resting her forehead on the wall as she took in small breaths. She was trying to be as quiet as possible, knowing there were guards outside, but you weren't making it easy on her. Her body moved forwards on its own, hips humping against you. The motion caused your nose to rub against her clit perfectly and in a couple minutes she was reaching her orgasm. 

Alicent's cum coated your face as she reached her high. Her body sagged slightly against you. You continued lapping up her juices until she winced and placed her hand on your head to stop you. Slowly she moved off your face. Your chest rose and fell as you tried to regain your normal breathing.

Alicent watched you with dazed eyes. Before she could totally understand what she was doing, her body began leaning down. You felt Alicent's lips come in contact with yours in a sweet kiss. You let her take control of the kiss, not wanting to overstep and upset her. She broke away from you, licking her lips to clean off the cum that had caught onto her skin. 

You watched her get off the bed, wobbly legs making their way towards the place her clothes were on the floor. You pushed yourself up, inching yourself off the bed as well. You made your way to Alicent, your arms wrapping around her waist. You felt her let out a breath as she felt your body on hers.

“Did I please you?”

“Very much.”

“I’m glad. Want help with your clothes?”

“Yes.”

You helped Alicent get dressed, making sure she looked as put together as possible. Once she was decent you moved to dress yourself. To your surprise Alicent made her way over to you. You felt her hands move against your bare skin for a moment before she leaned down to place a kiss to your shoulder. She helped you tug on your clothes. When she finished you turned to face her. She looked at you in silence, almost as if she was trying to commit your face to memory. You gave her a smile, bowing slightly before knocking on the door. The guard opened the door, his eyes catching on Alicent before looking at you.

“Ser Criston please make sure she is escorted back to the streets safely.”

The guard nodded at Alicent, moving out of your way so that you could exit. The two of you walked in silence until you reached the castle gate.

“I can make it back to town on my own.”

“Your Grace told me to company-”

“Trust me, I'm doing you a favor. My place of work is not suited for a man such as yourself.”

You gestured to his white cloak with your head. He understood your words immediately, eyes widening a bit at the implication. You merely smiled at him and turned to go on your way.

“My lady!”

You turned back to look at him.

“Yes?”

“What did Your Grace require of you?”

You gave him a small laugh.

“That's for me to know and for you to be curious about.”

You could sense the small disappointment in Cristons face.

“If you truly need to know, perhaps you should ask Alicent. I’m sure there will be no consequences.”

He could tell you were being coy so he opted to not give you an answer. He watched you turn around again and make your way out of the castle. Once you were far enough down the path towards the town Criston turned around and made his way back to Alicents quarters. He knocked on the door and waited for Alicents command for him to come in. When she gave it he opened the door, closing it behind him. His eyes found Alicents frame.

“Well? Did she say anything?”

“Not a word, Your Grace.”

“Good.”

Alicent gazed out the window, a small smile making its way to her face. You’d kept your exchange a secret, proving your loyalty to her. She’d have to keep you around. There were still many things she wanted you to teach her. 

[justaz]

king merlin after meeting lady guinevere and sir lancelot’s baby and falling in love: arthur. i want a baby.

king arthur, not looking up from his paperwork: …what?

merlin: give me a baby.

arthur, sighing: merlin, you studied to be a physician. i don’t think i have to be the one to tell you how impractical that is.

merlin, rolling his eyes: this is why i’m the brighter side of the coin

arthur, finally looking up: wha-

queen merlin using magic to transform her body: i. want. a. baby.

arthur:

arthur:

arthur: *stands up from his desk so fast his chair topples over, multiple parchments flutter to the ground, his tunic is already off*

[paulyenvol6]

Byka Atroksia (Chapter 1)

Contains: No trigger warnings really just Rhaenyra being mean and tension between uncle and niece

Wordcount: ~2.68k

Masterlist of this story

You looked out of the window in your chambers in the red keep, watching the approaching ships.

You knew that you should be down there. Like your sister Rhaenyra, waiting at the dock, waving to your uncle and the other people and welcoming them back kind – heartedly in the capital. But you couldn't.

It was too much and you knew if you did what you were supposed to do, you'd feel bad afterwards.

Your sister was three years older than you, 19, beautiful, feminine with full lips and warm eyes. And then there was you. A bit too tall and a bit too thin.

Of course you hadn't always felt that way. But when your cousin Aelon had said that you looked like a boy a few years ago, that had stuck with you. Ever since that day you always had these words in your head and you indeed felt like a boy.

You were 16 now, a grown woman but you didn't have a large chest, beautiful soft curves like a real woman does. Your chest was too small, your hips too slim and your arms and legs were too long. You felt like a fool, a boy… And you knew that a man didn't desire to lay with a boy.

Having a sister like Rhaenyra didn't exactly improve your situation. She was desired by all men in the seven kingdoms. Her grace, her charme and her wide smile had enchanted the grumpiest and rudest lords and knights.

And it had also enchanted your uncle Daemon, you were certain. Daemon Targaryen, brother of your father, Viserys Targaryen. Daemon was chaotic, wild, messy and dangerous. And all these traits had always made him so interesting to you and your sister.

Your father was the exact opposite. Rhaenyra and your mother had died when you were little and your father had wanted to protect you two ever since. Perhaps it was because you were the only two things left of your mother or it simply was because he didn't want to lose what he loved again. It didn't matter, he guarded and protected the two of you as if you were made of glass.

That was probably why your uncle had always been that interesting because he was different. Rhaenyra and you knew him as dangerous ever since you were born. He brought excitement, risk and thrill. When he came around you knew that it wouldn't be boring and you knew that everything would be different to what you expected.

Perhaps that was the reason why you and Rhaenyra had been fighting for your uncle's attention as long as you could remember. It was about who Daemon looked at longer, whose jokes he laughed about louder and who he brought the more special gifts.

You were competing and battling for his gaze and appreciation. Each of you wanted him to like you just a little bit more than the other.

When he made you a compliment you could feel Rhaenyra's angry gaze burning a hole in your back. But when he asked Rhaenyra for a dance on a name day of some distant cousin it was not rare for you to cry your eyes out in your chambers from anger and desperation.

You couldn't even exactly pin point when this competition had started and you didn't even exactly know what it was about. What was the prize, what were you fighting for? It simlpy was like a unspoken game between you, even though game seemed like a word too kind for this battle. You couldn't even exactly tell whether Daemon knew about the battle between you and your sister. At least he had never shown any sign that he did so you were not able to figure it out.

Over the last couple of years though, you had felt like you were losing this very game. When you were 12 you had seen Rhaenyra change. She had been growing and becoming a woman and you had feared you'd lose your uncle's attention.

You didn't entirely, but at the same time you felt as if he liked Rhaenyra better. Perhaps because she was more like Daemon than you were.

She was brave and witty, she made jokes while there were important men with important positions at the table. She was cocky and wasn't afraid to speak up to a lord who was twice her age. Rhaenyra was bold and it had happened more than once that she had gone out for a midnight stroll in the city, something that you wouldn't dare to do.

Maybe you were more like Viserys, you followed the rules and kept your head down. But you didn't do this to impress your father, no, you didn't want to be that way.

You wanted to be special, someone the people were talking about. You wanted your uncle to raise his eyebrows impressed when you told him about your adventures and wanted him to laugh about your quick-witted temper. You wanted him to flirt with you and wanted to be able to answer just as charmingly. But you knew that you couldn't.

Perhaps it was just the way you are, you weren't able to act that way. You looked down when important people spoke to you and you laughed at your sister's jokes instead of making some yourself.

So that's why you sometimes considered the competition with Rhaenyra finished. You couldn't even be mad at Daemon for prefering your sister. She was indeed more like him and she definitely had more to offer. Not only a more beautiful face but a smart and funny mind. Things simply were the way they were and you couldn't change them.

~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn't watch everything out of your window but you could see the boats arriving and tiny people stepping from the boats to the ground. Daemon had been at the Stepstones the last weeks fighting a war against the Triarchy. You hadn't seen him in four months and actually were looking forward to have him back at the red keep.

Your ongoing battle with Rhaenyra wasn't everything. You always had a good and exciting time with Daemon and enjoyed spending your hours with him in the gardens or at dinner.

Then after a while all the tiny people had stepped inside the carriages and there was nothing to see anymore. They would drive to the red keep now and then there would probably be a little welcoming and then a big feast in the evening to celebrate the King’s brother's safe return.

You stepped away from the big window and sat down on a chair. You knew you couldn't hide in your chambers all day. You knew you would have to attend tonight's feast and it wasn't like you had to be forced to go there.

You couldn't even exactly say why you had refused to go to the bay to welcome the ships. Because once again, you didn't despise spending time with Daemon at all, it was the contrary. He made you giggle and blush and smile. You just felt like competing with Rhaenyra for his attention took all of your energy and it sometimes could be very exhausting. Now you took the book next to your bed and turned the pages bored. You couldn't really focus on the letters and just wanted time to pass. You didn't even know what you were waiting for, perhaps it was the feast tonight.

You were really looking forward to seeing your uncle but you didn't have the courage to leave your room to make a special entry down in the hall either. That exactly was a good example of how you were different to Rhaenyra because your sister most certainly wouldn't have a problem doing something like this.

You were still trying to focus on your book when there was a knock on your door. "Come in.", you said surprised and then the door opened. "Uncle?!" You couldn't supress a wide smile and stood up.

He had come. He had come to see her shortly after his arrival. He hadn't gone up to his room, hadn't strolled through the gardens with Rhaenyra (at least not for a very long time because some time had passed since his arrival and you obviously couldn't tell what he had been doing since he had arrived), no he had come up all the steps of the staircases to see you.

He wore black trousers and skirts with a red shirt underneath and of course, looked handsome as always.

You fastly walked towards him and wrapped your arms around him. He returned the hug and buried his face in your hair. "My beautiful niece. Wonderful to see you." You smiled softly, which he couldn't see and felt your heart beating faster at his words. You ended the hug and you could see Daemon watch you closely.

"I must admit I was a little disappointed to not see you at the dock.", he smirked. "I'm sorry, I… I wasn't feeling very well earlier.", you lied and Daemon immediately took a step back.

"Do not tell me that you're ill and I'll be walking out of here with the fever.", he hissed with small eyes but smirked. You laughed and crossed your arms over your chest.

"No I'm not ill. It was simply a headache." "I’m glad, little owl."

'Little owl'. That was his nickname for you and you didn't know what to think of it. You found it cute that he even bothered to have a nickname for you but at the same time you were wondering whether or not it once again confirmed your apprehension. Weren’t you nothing but a boring, quiet, night owl to him after all?

Daemon called Rhaenyra little storm sometimes but the nickname definitely wasn’t as established as yours and he only used it very rarely, but you still didn’t know if it was good or bad.

"But how are you, uncle? What are the stepstones like?" Daemon threw his head back. "Let me think, there is…. Bad wine, bad climate and no feather beds. In other words, I’m happy to be back.", he smiled and you couldn’t help but softly smile as well.

You were so happy to have him back after all. "I have something for you, by the way." You looked up to him to meet his gaze and he grinned crookedly.

"Turn around.", he spoke and you did as he had told you. Once your back was facing him he gently moved your hair out of the way. You helped him and exposed your neck and then you felt Daemon reaching around your neck to put a necklace on you. His hand brushed over your soft skin and you could feel yourself getting goosebumps and just hoped Daemon didn’t notice it. His hands were so close and you felt the blood pulsating in your veins.

He had closed the claps and you slowly turned around. Daemon smirked and watched the pendant on your skin.

"Beautiful.", he whispered and you could feel the blood rising in your cheeks again. Then you stepped in front of the mirror to watch yourself. The pendant glistened golden and it had a red flower on it. It was incredibly beautiful and you happily played with it.

"Thank you uncle. It’s lovely." Daemon stepped behind you and watched you as well through the mirror. You could feel his arm against your back and slightly shivered which made you angry. Why couldn’t you just play it cool for once in your life?

"You’ve become a woman, little owl.", he then whispered and didn’t take his eyes off the reflection of you. Your eyes searched for his‘ in the mirror and you didn’t know what to answer. You felt his chin brush against your hair. He was so close to you, you could literally feel his warmth.

"I’m 16.", you said and wanted to slap yourself. That had literally been the worst answer one could think of. Daemon chuckled in response.

"I feel like you have changed in these last four months." You smiled softly. "I don’t think I have." Your uncle smirked and you could feel his hand ligthly over your arm.

"Perhaps I should look at you more accurately then." You could feel your breath fasten and helplessly bit on your lip just to do anything. Daemon looked down to your naked shoulder as you could see in the mirror when he suddenly stepped away from you.

You exhaled loudly and all of the tension was gone. You aimlessly walked around in the room and tried to collect yourself.

"I’ll go now, I have to rest before the feast tonight." Your head turned to watch your uncle still smirking. "Yes, yes. I’ll see you later.", you spoke with a weak voice and didn’t look at him while he left your room.

'What was that?', you thought and tried to get more air to reach your lungs. Had you imagined this or had there been tension between the two of you? You knew your uncle and you knew that he liked to be a bit flirty but this right now…. He had been so close to you and what did he say? He should look at you more accurately, what did that even mean?

You supported your weak body by resting your hands on the desk. Slowly you could feel your heartbeat slow down and after a while dared to stand on your own without the support of the desk. Your hands were still slightly shaking but after another 5 minutes you almost felt like yourself again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later you were finally walking down the stairs and headed to the hall. You had spent the last two hours overthinking every second of your encounter with your uncle and had come to the conclusion that after four months of fighting a war, Daemon had simply wanted to play with her a little and she shouldn’t read anything into it. He probably had just felt like confusing her a bit and it honestly made a lot of sense, considering it was his nature to be a bit coquettish.

You now wore a red gown that exposed your shoulders and collar bones. It fell down to the ground and was tight at your waist. When you were about to step through the door to enter the hall in which the feast would take place you could feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Sister.", Rhaenyra hissed and you turned around. "Rhaenyra.", you greeted her.

"Where were you all day? Why didn’t you come with us to welcome uncle?" You raised your chin, promising yourself to be brave and self confident today. "I wasn’t feeling very well, sister. I prefered to spend the noon in my chambers."

Rhaenyra frowned. "I don’t believe you." "Then don’t, but I’m telling the truth." Your sister took a step back from you and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Is this about uncle?" You chuckled. "What about him?"

"You didn’t want to see him, did you?" You laughed loudly. "Why shouldn’t I?" "Because you don’t like to see him put his attention on any other person who’s not you." Rhaenyra smiled evily and you just wanted to punch that smirk out of her face.

"That’s not true, I told you I simply had a headache." "You NEVER have a headache." Slowly you got angry. "Well I did today and this is none of your business anyway."

Rhaenyra smirked even wider and took another step back. "I’m going to go fly with uncle tomorrow, by the way. On Caraxes. We’re going to Dragonstone and he said he’s gonna show me around the caves."

Your heart was beating faster and you could feel your anger and pain going to your head. With all your energy you tried to make the tears that you started to feel in your eyes vanish but you knew that Rhaenyra had noticed them. "I hope you have a good time.", you pressed and then turned around and entered the hall.

[daemontargaryenwhore]

So anyway there was this horse

when he was told Rhaenyra was at a brothel and he went "what of it??" 💀

And when he had the maester bring her the moon tea 😭😭😭 like here’s your plan B sweetie hope you had fun

[starogeorgina]

𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞

The king’s queen and hand

Paring: Aegon ii Targaryen × reader x Ser Criston Cole

Warnings: Swearing, smut

“Anyone walking by would think I have invited a whore from the streets of Silk into our bed.”

You swat at Aegon’s arm, “shush.”

The playfulness in your husband's voice brings a smile to your face. He has been attending small council meetings until late hours most nights discussing war plans, and by the time he returns to your shared apartments, you are fast asleep, so the intimacy has been lacking, and you crave nothing more than Aegon’s attention.

With your back pressed against his chest, you feel a vibrating ripple from him as he chuckles, “Am I wrong?”

“Oh gods,” you whine loudly, gripping onto Aegon’s wrist as he speeds up his movements of sliding two fingers in and out of your dripping cunny while rubbing his thumb over your sensitive clit. His free hand is squeezing roughly at your clothed breast.

Aegon grazes his teeth against the back of your neck; he loved how obnoxiously loud you were being.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, and your body shudders with pleasure. “You're doing so well, taking my fingers,” Aegon whispers. “But I think you're ready to take more.”

“I want all of you, now.”

“Patience sweet wife,” he removes his fingers from you, leaving you with an ache between your legs that was verging on painful. “I have a surprise for you.”

A tingling sensation shoots through you. Aegon shuffles further back on the large bed that dominates the room until he hits the pillows, then motions for you to do the same. Your hand skims across the soft velvety emerald green sheet below, which matches the canopy adorned with gold thread and embroidered with intricate symbols including burning flames and dragons, before you sit between your husband's thick thighs again.

Hearing the clicking sound of the door closing, your head snaps up, and you lock eyes with the king's hand, who was wearing comfortable clothing instead of his usual armor. “Ser Criston,” heat rushes to cheeks; you were thankful that you hadn’t begun to undress yet. “I wasn’t expecting to see you; the hour is late.”

Criston stares at you for a long moment, his eyes filled with uncertainty. “Forgive the intrusion, your grace, but the king requested I come at this hour.”

You sit upright and look over your shoulder to face your husband. “Aegon?”

The candlelight flickers softly, casting shadows across the room making your brother-husband's lilac eyes glisten, and his expression even harder to read than normal. In high Valyrian Aegon says he knows about your conflicting feelings towards the knight, who was not only the hand of the king, but your former sworn protector.

Your mouth goes dry. “What is your suggestion?”

It was common for the occasional lady to join you and Aegon between the sheets since you both found pleasure from it, but never before has it been suggested that another man joined. You assumed the surprise he mentioned would be a new toy, oil, or even a new outfit designed for your husband’s eyes only.

Aegon licks his lips, “for the king's hand to fuck you. Is this something you want?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“What do you say, Ser Criston? I see the way you look at my wife, and until the war is won, I cannot always be here to protect or satisfy her myself.”

Licking at his lips, Ser Criston looks down at the ground.

You lean forward and mumble into Aegon’s cheek, “I don’t believe he wishes—”

In the blink of an eye the knight is standing at the foot of the bed, “I believe what you are suggesting would be improper my king, I do not wish to offend her grace.”

Aegon reaches his hands down over your shoulders and slowly unlaces the front of your dress, revealing your breasts. “You can leave anytime Cole, or join me in pleasing our queen.”

The sexual tension in the air thickens as Aegon’s hand brushes against your thigh, slowly pulling your skirts up higher sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. You could feel the heat emanating from your husband's body as his soft stomach pressed into your lower back, fuelling your desire. In a low voice you say, “no offense would or will be given Ser Criston.”

Aegon smirks against your neck.

Kneeling on the bed, Cristion’s eyes widen in anticipation as he stretches his arm out to slowly reach out to touch your breast. He traces his fingers over your nipples, causing them to harden under his touch. Sensing Criston was nervous, you decided to take the lead. You grip Aegon’s hand and press it against your other breasts; his touch is a lot rougher than the knights. You raise your skirts enough until your cunny is completely bare.

“My wife is wet and desperate to be touched.” Aegon rubs his thumb against your clit again, causing you to whimper. “Get on with it, Cole, or this chance will slip away.”

Criston seems lost in thought as he stares off for a moment as if he’s contemplating what to do. You half expected him to excuse himself and leave, but the knight surprises you by suddenly untying his breeches and lowering them enough that his hard cock springs free.

Aegon gives you a mischievous grin and says, “You’re going to enjoy this, my queen.”

You respond by clashing your lips against his while instinctively moving your legs open to make space for the knight. Criston presses the tip of his hard cock against your dripping hole, pushing into you slowly and stretching out your tight walls.

You moan at the stretch, “Oh gods!”

Criston grips your chin, turning your head away to face him so he can kiss you. His lips are softer than you imagined. Aegon hooks his hands under your knees to bend them back, opening you wider as Criston speeds up his thrusts.

Lightly, you tap at Aegon’s thigh and motion for him to move to the side. You lay completely flat on your back and fumble to pull his breeches down. You take Aegon’s cock in your hand and begin to stroke him before licking at his tip and taking him into your mouth.

“My queen, your cunt is so tight.”

Your free hand finds Cristion, linking fingers with his as his thrusts become sloppy. If your mouth wasn’t muffled by cock, you’d be moaning both of their names.

“Fuck!” Criston pulls out just as he cums, coating the outside of your cunny and thigh with his seed.

“It’s your mess, Cole; clean it up.”

When Criston goes to reach for a cloth, Aegon clicks his tongue and says, “With your mouth. And don’t stop until she cums.”

Without argument, Criston kneels between your legs and licks up your slit, tasting your wetness mixed with his seed eagerly. This continues for a few months until both you and Aegon climax at the same time, and his cum spills down your throat as your juices cover the knight's face.

—

You bask in the comfort of your husband's arms and the warmth from the water covering you from the chest down.

“May I ask what is in the box?”

A dark red leather box had been placed on the small table near your tub by one of your ladies a few hours prior. You were so exhausted from your activities the night before that you hadn’t had a chance to gift the item inside yet.

Stretching out, you lean further into his embrace. “I will deal with it shortly.”

“And which one of our children is this for?”

“It’s not for the babies. I’ve got a new collar made for my dragon.”

Aegon nuzzles his face into your neck, “dragon and children alike are spoiled just like their mother.”

“Me? Spoiled?”

He nods, “Not only do you have me wrapped around your finger, it appears the king's hand is bewitched by the sweetness between your legs also.”

“Hmm, I do hope so.”

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

thank god!

[councilofcastamere]

Daemon and Alicent average conversation

[camelotsscribe]

a mothers love, rheanyra targaryen

pairing: rhaenyra x daughter!reader summary: rhaenyra targaryen, despite her responsibilities, spends a cherished day with her child, bonding over stories and a dragon ride. she later gives a heartfelt letter to her child, expressing her unwavering love and strength, ensuring they feel her presence even when she’s not around. warnings: fluff my etsy shop: camelot's scribe | letters from your favorite character

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

the sun had barely risen over dragonstone, casting a soft, golden hue across the island fortress. the distant sound of waves crashing against the rocky shore created a soothing rhythm, one that you had come to associate with home. as you made your way through the winding corridors of the castle, the faint smell of the sea lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of burning candles and freshly baked bread.

in the heart of dragonstone, your mother, rhaenyra targaryen, sat by the large wooden table in her chambers, poring over maps and letters. her presence was commanding, her silver-gold hair cascading down her back, and her eyes, the same striking violet as yours, filled with determination and love.

"good morning, mother," you greeted her, entering the room with a small smile.

rhaenyra looked up, her stern expression softening as she saw you. "good morning, my sweet dragon," she replied, her voice warm and melodic. "come, sit with me."

you crossed the room and took a seat beside her. despite the weight of her responsibilities, rhaenyra always made time for you, her child. it was a promise she had made to herself and one she never broke.

"how are you feeling today?" she asked, reaching out to gently touch your hand.

"better," you replied, though the concern in her eyes told you she knew better. "i was hoping we could spend some time together today."

rhaenyra nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "of course. i've finished most of my duties for the morning. what would you like to do?"

"can we go for a ride on syrax?" you asked, your eyes lighting up at the thought of flying with your mother on her magnificent dragon.

rhaenyra's smile widened, and she stood up, offering her hand. "i think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

together, you made your way to the dragon pit, where syrax awaited. the great golden dragon let out a low rumble as she saw rhaenyra approach, her eyes gleaming with recognition. with practiced ease, rhaenyra helped you climb onto syrax's back before mounting herself.

as syrax took to the skies, you felt the familiar rush of wind against your face, the exhilaration of flight filling your heart. rhaenyra's arms wrapped securely around you, her warmth and strength a comforting presence.

"you know, your father loved to fly," rhaenyra said, her voice carrying over the roar of the wind. "it was one of the things we bonded over when we were young."

you turned to look at her, curiosity piqued. "will you tell me more about him?"

rhaenyra's eyes softened, and she nodded. "of course, my love. your father was a brave and noble man, with a heart full of passion and fire. he loved deeply and fiercely, much like you."

as she spoke, you felt a sense of connection to a past you had never known, a bond that transcended time and space. the stories of your father's bravery and love filled you with pride and a deeper understanding of your own heritage.

hours passed as you flew together, sharing stories and laughter. when you finally returned to dragonstone, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden light over the castle.

later that evening, as you prepared for bed, a knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. rhaenyra entered, holding a folded piece of parchment in her hand.

"i wrote something for you," she said, her voice soft and filled with emotion. "i thought it might bring you comfort when i'm not around."

you took the letter from her, your heart swelling with love and gratitude. "thank you, mother."

rhaenyra kissed your forehead, her touch tender and loving. "goodnight, my sweet dragon. sleep well."

as she left the room, you unfolded the letter and began to read:

my dearest child,

in the quiet moments when i am alone with my thoughts, my heart often turns to you. i see in you the strength and spirit of our ancestors, the fire of the targaryens burning brightly within your soul. it is a fire that will guide you through the darkest of times and illuminate your path when all seems lost.

know that my love for you is boundless, a fierce and unwavering force that no distance or time can diminish. you are my pride, my joy, and my greatest treasure. every decision i make, every battle i fight, is for you and our family's future.

when the weight of the world feels too heavy, remember the stories i have told you of our ancestors' bravery and resilience. you come from a line of kings and queens, warriors and dreamers, and you carry their legacy within you.

i may not always be by your side, but my love and my spirit will forever be with you. be brave, my sweet dragon, and let your heart guide you. trust in yourself, for you have a strength within you that is unmatched.

with all my love, mother

tears filled your eyes as you read the letter, each word a testament to your mother's love and devotion. you folded it carefully and placed it under your pillow, a precious reminder of the bond you shared.

as you drifted off to sleep, you felt a sense of peace and comfort, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, your mother's love would always be there to guide and protect you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

author's note: do you want a letter from rhaenyra just like the one about but more detailed? check my etsy for detailed personalized letters from any character you wish. click the link below: