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marthawrites · 2 years ago

Note

Hi Martha! Ooohh requests are open!!! I have a friends to lovers trope idea for Aemond.

Jealous and in love with his friend, Aemond and reader are fighting while he's driving her home and then bad weather forces them to pull over.

Love your writing!!!

OF COURSE YOU CAN! While talking about this request earlier on my blog, I discovered this anon is a beloved mutual! I will not out them in case they want to stay anon for real. I HOPE YOU LOVE THIS, MWAH! ♥

After The Closing Shift

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 4.6k+

Read part 2 here

About: You and Aemond have been best friends for years. The time is finally right for him to admit his true feelings. In the process of doing so, your cheating ex appears back in the picture. Unexpected events follow.

Includes: Mentions of divorce, cheating, some angst, adult language, and explicit sexual content featuring our pussy eating king, slight overstimulation, and unprotected protected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is my first time writing friends to lovers trope. There's angst for added flavor and I hope you like it! I don't write it very often. This was SO much fun to brainstorm and create! All characters mentioned in this story are college age/in their early 20s. Aside from that, reader is non-descript. Please, enjoy! ♥

Aemond Targaryen fell in love with you senior year of high school. He could still recall the exact moment it happened; a click somewhere in his brain that made everything in your friendship prior to that moment make sense.

You and your parents moved to the area for a fresh start. Being a new student during the first term of twelfth grade was difficult, but luckily you and Aemond hit it off early and well. By the end of the year you two were inseparable. He was your best friend, and you, his.

That summer was a hard one for your parents. And by proxy, you. Their marriage hung on by a thread you weren't sure existed anymore. One evening, during a particularly horrible fight, you left in your own fit of rage. Driving aimlessly eventually led you to the Targaryen's estate. You showed up unannounced and thankfully Aemond was home; quick to let you crash on the couch in his room like you’d done a hundred times before.

It was that night. He remembered it well. You'd been in the bathroom for some time and when he knocked to check on you, you quietly answered for him to come in. He caught you midway through brushing your teeth with tear soaked eyes, toothpaste messy around your mouth, and that was it. His heart. The moment he fell in love with you.

You skipped the couch and crawled into his bed with him and he held you all the while, letting you cry into his shirt until sleep overtook you.

The remainder of the year went by in an emotional blur. Your parents divorced, you started dating Jason Lannister, and Aemond started dating Ellyn Baratheon. Before you knew it you and Aemond were freshmen in college. And then sophomores. Double dates on weekends and trips to local swimming spots in the hot summer evenings had Aemond constantly wrestling with his feelings about you. Things didn't last much longer with him and Ellyn. Physically he was with her, but mentally he was with you. When the breakup finally happened, it was mutual.

Things with you and Jason were rocky too. He was handsome and charismatic which you adored. Though, he also had a wandering eye and taste for risk. He cheated on you more than once over the last year. And yet, somehow, you took him back each time. In your heart you were scared to be alone.

After the latest breakup you told yourself (and Aemond) this time would be different. You wouldn't fall for his tricks again. He was a cheating piece of shit who wouldn't change. You were done.

Aemond knew now would be his chance. As long as he eased into it, was careful with the admission, and took it slow, he knew he had a chance. The most difficult part being: he didn't want to ruin the friendship you two built over the years.

Now tonight, near the end of your waitressing shift, you got a ping on your phone for extreme weather. Great. Of course this would happen when your car was in the shop getting worked on. You really didn't want to Uber all the way home if you didn't have to. Despite the hour – 10 pm thanks to the closing shift – you texted Aemond.

Hey Aems. You up? There's a storm rolling in and I don't wanna Uber. Can you pick me up and take me home?

A minute or so went by and your phone dinged.

I don't mind at all. Give me a few minutes to get dressed and I'll head your way.

"Thank god," you said under your breath.

Thank you! You're the best

As if on queue you got another notification. You expected it to be Aemond with some sort of snarky response, but it wasn’t. It was Jason. Your heart, somehow, jumped and fell into your stomach at the same time.

The last couple weeks had been rough. Him and Aegon liked to party a little too much, and Aegon refused to be held down by one woman – he liked to have fun. Unfortunately, Jason would sometimes get a little too involved with that fun if whoever Aegon was smooching on had a pretty friend. That’s exactly what happened: you had caught your boyfriend red-handed. A furious fright broke out between you two and you broke up with him, swearing it was the last time he’d play you like some fool.

And yet, here you were – now – allowing your ex-boyfriend to sweet talk you with pretty words and promises of never doing it again. He missed you. He loved you. He wanted to be with you. You were his best girl and he was just drunk that night. It was a horrible mistake. He didn’t know what he was doing. He was sorry. He missed you.

Butterflies filled your belly, eyes stary as you typed away on your phone, completely unaware of anything else going on around you.

You didn’t even notice the headlights of Aemond’s black Mercedes Benz until he honked. Rolling the darkly tinted window down, he said, “hey bunny, could you at least pretend to be happy you're not stuck in the pouring ass rain?” You heard his smirk before you saw it. He laid on his horn a second time, a longer honk, until you flipped him off; blushing and smiling wide.

Only Aemond called you “bunny”: a nickname from high school that stuck over the years.

“Rain and thunder. Let’s go!” You hopped in and were immediately enveloped by the essence of him. The interior of his car was all sleek and black leather. Clean. Scents of his shampoo, body wash, and deodorant washed over you; long silver hair damp and pulled back into a bun. You two had spent many nights in here talking about life and there were no shortage of good memories in it. By now you didn’t even mind the weird music he liked. Heavy metal. The kind that had organs and orchestras alongside powerful drums and electric guitars. Your favorites were the bands, or songs, that had males and females singing together.

“Did you make good tips tonight? You haven’t stopped grinning this whole time,” Aemond spoke up after a few minutes, casually glancing over at you.

You stared at your phone and continued typing away. “Huh? Oh, yeah, not bad,” you replied, briefly flickering your attention over to him. Once again your thumbs flew across your phone’s keypad; completely absorbed. “Sorry, just about done here.”

An amused chuff of air is all Aemond replied with. You knew that sound. Without even looking you knew he rolled his good eye. Another few minutes passed with Aemond singing along softly while keeping beat on the steering wheel. You two were definitely driving into the storm. The night sky was black with angry clouds.

Finally, you clicked your phone screen off. A happy sigh sounded from you. This time would be different. Jason didn’t mean it. He was only drunk and Aegon was a bad influence. This time, he’d do it right and keep it right. Again, you smiled.

“What’re you doing tonight, bun?”

“I think Jason is gonna come over so we can talk about things in person and not just on the phone,” you replied, mind buzzing happily.

That got Aemond’s attention. “Lannister? Please tell me you’re joking,” he nearly spat the surname, glaring between you and the road.

“No I’m not joking,” you answered. “I really think it’s gonna be better this time. We just need to talk about things, you know?”

“He’s cheated on you three times! Three fucking times. You really think this time is going to be different?” His grip tightened on the steering wheel, jaw flexing as if wrestling words on his tongue.

You blinked, taken back. “W-well, yeah. He said he was sorry.”

A single harsh laugh came from Aemond’s chest. “That piece of shit said the same thing last time, too. We’ve been together nonstop for almost two weeks! Study sessions, movie nights, ice cream trips, you finally learned how to do that fancy braid thing with my hair. You said you were done with him, bunny. You said you meant it for real this time. I thought we were getting through this together.” He was speeding, now, shoulders tense as he struggled to keep his attention on both you and the road.

“I thought I was too!” Your voice came out more shrill than you intended it to, body turned slightly so you were staring straight at Aemond. “People make mistakes and fuck up, ya know? I think he’ll change this time. He said he was sorry and I wanna talk to him about it seriously. I think he just needed time to realize what he did was super shitty and really hurt me.”

The rain came harshly and suddenly. Aemond might as well have driven through a wall. It was so loud that it drowned out the music. Naturally, your voices grew louder, too. “I don’t understand what you see in him. He’s not even that good to you!”

Anxiety gripped your entire nervous system. “Pull over, Aems. I don’t like this. It hasn’t rained like this in forever and the roads are gonna be slick as fuck. Pull over. Please.” Your pulse thumped in your chest and behind your ears. You wanted to cover your eyes but somehow resisted the urge.

He did. With it now parked safely off the side of the road he could turn his full attention to you. Even in the car’s ambient light his eye was wild. The patch over his left eye reflected absolutely zero light. “Why do you wanna be with that loser so bad?” Fury smudged his cheeks pink. The tops of his ears. The sharp lines of his face were even sharper. Harder.

You'd never seen him this mad. Not at you. Not towards you. "Because, Aemond, I love him! Maybe if you and Ellyn worked through your problems you'd understand!"

Again, that same short, dry laugh. "You don't love him. And I couldn't be with Ellyn because when I was with her I could only see you! Because I love you. Jason's a fucking scumbag who can't even give you his loyalty. I'd give you the entire world and then some!"

Silence drowned out the downpour.

By now you were both wide eyed and breathing heavy; faces flushed with emotion. The tightness in his car threatened to suffocate you both. Did you really just hear him right? Did he really mean what he just said? Love? "You're lying," is all you managed to croak; believing and unbelieving alike.

"'M not," he said as he ran a hand through the roots of his hair. "Fuck. I've loved you as long as I can remember. I didn't want to tell you like this."

Outside it rained harder. Thunder rumbled and lightning cracked.

Yet, still, inside the Mercedes silence rang louder.

Everything started to click in your head. Your best friend had always been more than a best friend – you knew it in your heart of hearts. You two never had the opportunity to act upon such things due to relationships you found yourselves in.

But, now?

Words bloomed and died on your tongue. What the hell could you say to him?

"Fuck," he spat, emotion rasping his single word. His hands squeezed the steering wheel until his knuckles and tendons were taut.

Still, you said nothing. Just stared at him. Stupidly.

One hand moved to shift the car into drive as he said, bitterly, "know what? Whatever. Forget it. I'll take you home to your cheating fuck boy."

You had a single second to decide what to do; despite your pleas to pull over he was going to drive through the storm, regardless. In a flash of motion you didn't know you were capable of, you unclicked your seat belt and pounced over the center console. You had the element of surprise on your side and it worked. Your lips were on his in an instant. He smelled sharp; soap, shaving cream, hair product. He tasted spicy; cinnamon toothpaste. His chest was hard beneath the press of your much softer breast – both of your hands too shocked to yet roam. Heartbeat thundered in your ribs and core at the kiss, your closeness, and the eruption of sensation the intimacy brought. Begrudgingly, you pulled away to look at him. To gauge his reaction. To read the expression of his angular face. What you were met with was a swelled pupil that screamed more. Desire. Need. It oozed from every visible pore.

Amidst the downpower, thunderstorm, and heavy metal, Aemond growled at the loss of your lips. Wordlessly he crashed his mouth back to yours while he unclicked his own seatbelt – hands on your neck and jaw half a second later.

Heat pooled in your belly – and lower, still – his passion causing you to whimper against his soft mouth. "Shit, Aems," you whispered, unable to resist a moan as he bit at your bottom lip. Your tongues slid and teased against one another. It deepened and grew hungrier by the moment.

"Wanted this for so long," he said in a tone you'd never heard from him before; it sent shivers prickling all along your spine. Breaking the kiss, he dragged his lips and teeth along your jawline and neck. His hands roamed in tandem, palms pressing against your uniform clad body as if you wore fine lingerie. He squeezed the curve of your waist. The swell of a hip.

"A-ah!" You gasped, dizzy and lightheaded from the sensations his desperate affections hit you with. Each stroke of his palm, squeeze of his fingers, and slide of his tongue had you melting between his hands. "Oh my God… you're driving me insane. Why have we never done this before?" You panted, moving to crawl over the center console once and for all.

Aemond stopped you. "Not yet. I wanna be greedy with you. Will you let me?" He asked, eye dark and face mischievous as you two gazed at each other dreamily, lustfully, breathing heavy.

"Yeah," you answered, nodding with half-lidded eyes. "I trust you. Always. You know that."

"Good girl," he cooed – driving you further insane. "Lean back against the passenger door. Can you do that for me, baby girl?"

Not your name. Not 'bunny'. Baby girl. You were in a pit of insanity now. Jason never made you feel like this. What the fuck had you been missing out on for the last two years?

You nodded again and barely managed to swallow yet another whine of appreciation at his words. His tone. Fuck. You thought you'd heard every tone his voice could make. But no, you certainly hadn't heard this side of him before. As you leaned back, he leaned forward. His gaze never left you and the intensity of it had your belly flipping and flopping, breath shallow in your throat, as his hand slipped up between your parted thighs.

"If you want me to stop, that's all you gotta say and I will," he whispered, creeping higher. He kissed the inside of your knee and you hissed inwardly. He kissed again, this time the middle of your thigh, and you trembled. He smirked as he kissed higher still. You moaned softly, so, so, softly, and his cock ached. "Gonna pull your panties down and bury my face right under your skirt."

"A-Aemond… oh my God. Please. No, you don't have to do that. I've been running around the restaurant for over ten hours and–"

" –even better. Don't care." By now he'd pushed your skirt up as high as it could go without ripping it off. He admired your thighs. He'd always loved those; stealing glances whenever and wherever he could, even napping on them. Shifting his position, he leaned further and pressed a single hot, open mouthed kiss to your covered mound. He groaned. "You have no idea how long–" he paused, slipping a finger beneath the cotton to tug it aside, " –I've wanted to do this." He delicately traced over your slit, cock aching inside his sweats at the wetness he met.

Tension shivered all up and down your body and you thought you might actually pass out. You couldn't believe this was happening. When you looked down and saw Aemond there, between your thighs, with the most lust-ridden gaze you'd ever seen on any person, your hips arched closer to him on impulse. You opened your thighs wider and you swore you saw your best friend shiver.

He kissed your slit. Once, twice, three times, until his mouth hovered over your clit. There, he traced his tongue over that delicious bundle of nerves. He licked up the full center of your core with the flat of his tongue, a soft “mmm,” sounding from him. “Prettiest little pussy,” he half said to himself before diving his tongue back between your folds. He circled your clit, licking across it, alternating between the two.

Each little sound you made sent Aemond’s blood roaring. He only wanted to do it again. And again. And again.

Your moans and whines picked up; he found your rhythm. With a small, satisfied moan of his own, he gently sucked on your swollen clit. “Ah!” You squeaked in surprise at that, body tensing as you tried to push his head away. “Too much… not so hard, please,” you said when he pulled back and looked up at you with a confused expression. You ran a hand down your face, blushing. “I…,” you started, trying to muster the strength to admit something you found embarrassing. “I’m.. I’m really sensitive. Jason doesn’t do this to me a lot.”

Aemond looked like you just slapped him across the face. “He doesn’t eat your pussy?”

You shook your head and shrugged a shoulder. “Not… not very often,” you answered, embarrassment flooding over you like a wave and making your blush all the redder.

“Oh my God, bunny…,” he cooed, fully tugging your underwear down your legs. He moved both his hands under your ass, now, cupping and squeezing the soft flesh as he leaned down into his previous position. “As if I didn’t hate him enough as is.” He was careful before, but now he was delicate and light with his movements. Instead of pressing, he feathered his tongue over you. Instead of dragging, he trailed his lips over you. Instead of sucking, he barely drew you into his mouth to his tongue. He found a new soft rhythm – never once hindering the sounds of his licking, slurping, or breathing – and you were putty in his hands.

“So fucking good…!” You gasped in a breathless whisper, hands tentatively lowering to his hair where your fingers threaded into his pale roots. You held him there, tugging gently, as your hips grinded against his mouth. You were close. So close. Tension built in your belly and you weren’t sure how long it would last before it snapped. “Please don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He kept going at the exact same pace, the exact same angles, and the exact same pressure. Over and over. Just how he’d been doing it before you started grinding your pretty pussy against him. When you tugged and pulled at his hair he moaned. When your fingernails scraped against his scalp he thought he might lose himself to his own pleasure right then and there.

The full length of your legs tightened; toes curling in your shoes. Pleasure, so immense and lovely and all-consuming, washed over you, and in the next instant you were coming undone on your best friend’s tongue. Your back arched, hands gripped – the sounds of your peak filling his car amidst heavy drums, bass, and darkly poetic lyrics.

He guided you through your orgasm, his own pulse hammering. “I’m not done yet, baby. You taste so fucking sweet,” he said, barely audible to your pleasantly ringing ears. With his hands still under you he lifted your ass to give himself a better angle into you. While you were still sensitive from your first peak he pushed his tongue into your clenching walls. He fucked you with the warm muscle, absolutely uncaring of the lewd noises it created.

It's not that Jason had never done this to you before, but compared to Aemond he was absolute dogshit at it. You'd never experienced this kind of high from a man's face between your thighs. Ever. Aemond made it seem easy. Soon, a second climax built in the low muscles of your belly. "Holy shit..! I'm gonna cum again, fuck!" You squealed, tugging his ears, hair, anywhere you could grab, harder.

"Yeah you are. Good girl, my good girl," he answered before dipping his face right back where it was. He came at you with a slightly different angle once again. This time, the tip of his nose nuzzled against your clit in tandem with his tongue fucking.

It was too much. His name left your lungs in a desperate cry of bliss as you tensed and shuddered before him for a second time. When finally you relaxed, and when finally he had enough of your taste in his mouth, he leaned up into the driver's seat. Even in the low light evidence of your slick shone on his face. He looked over at you and smirked, wiping his mouth. "I won't be able to not see you there like this from now on."

You were blushed and smiling from release. Despite the pleasure Aemond gifted you with, being in such a position really wasn't comfortable. "And I won't be able to look at you and not think of this," you replied in the same tone. As gracefully as you could in the confines of his car, you maneuvered over the center console until you were straddling over his lap. His length pressed against your bare core and you both hissed at the sensation.

"What are you thinking, bunny?" He asked, barely resisting the urge – no, the need – to slide right up into you.

"I'm thinking I wanna ride you right here in your driver's seat," you answered, kissing him with the remains of your arousal on his mouth.

"There's a condom in the glove box," he said, reaching in its direction.

"I'm on the pill and I'm clean. Promise. Are… are you?"

That stopped him right in his tracks. He groaned somewhere deep in his chest. "Fuck. Yeah, babe, I am. Gonna ride me raw?"

"Yes," you shivered. In a quick fumble of motions he lifted his hips and you both pulled his sweats down as far as they could go. His cock sprang free, solid and searing against you. Looking down between your bodies you eyed it appreciatively; big and perfect and flushed with desire. "Holy shit, Aems, I didn't know you were packing so much," you said, the playful teasing nature you intended to speak with crumbling away to a wanton plea.

Another groan, or growl, or something vibrated deep in his chest. Without hesitation he popped open the front of your button-up shirt and slid the straps of your bra off your shoulders. "Perfect tits," he praised as he pushed the cups away to expose your breasts, licking and kissing over your nipples with need.

Leaning up on your knees you reached behind yourself to guide his tip to your eager cunt. You lowered yourself, slowly, saving the stretch of his cock into your yielding body. You both cursed. He felt so fucking good.

"So perfect," Aemond said up to you from the softness of your breasts. "So wet and tight. Fuck, I love how wet you are."

Once your body adjusted to his size you began to grind against him. Began to bounce on him. His music still played in the background but you paid it little mind. All you saw was Aemond. Your best friend. His face a beautiful display of softness and intensity with pleasure. His dark eye was heavily lidded, mouth parted. You bounced more, now, as his hands gripped your hips to help guide you along.

The storm hadn't let up yet, and thank God for the dark tint on his windows because you weren't even paying attention to any other cars that might be driving by.

He lavished your tits with attention; kissing, licking, sucking all over them. You pushed them against his face firmer, arching your back as you rode him with fervor. He worked beneath you all the while – rolling and thrusting up into you, meeting all your movements to increase the hot coil of bliss in your belly; at the base of his spine.

Amidst half-babbled curses and praises, smacking skin, and needy moans, your phone's ringtone barely registered in your brain. Whoever was calling could wait. When it rang a second time, you felt Aemond's attention shift to it. "Your parents?" He asked through a panting groan.

"No. Probably Jason wondering where I am." You grabbed his face and kissed him hard, uncaring.

When it rang for a third time, however, Aemond broke the kiss and reached for your phone. Sure enough it was your ex. He looked at you and smirked, dragging your hips back and forth to grind on him harder.

"Oh my God…," you whined at the way he guided you, eyes rolling closed. "Don't answer it."

He slid his thumb across the screen before holding it up to his ear. Jason's worried tone met your ears as Aemond continued fucking up into you through your grinding. You tried to swallow your panic. Tried to stay quiet through the bliss.

Tried to.

"She's done with you. Stop calling," Aemond said coldly. He glared at you, grinning.

You heard Jason's "what the fuck? Is that her? What're you doing?" Through the phone. He was pissed. Apparently you weren't being quiet enough.

"She's got better things to do than worry about a cheating scumbag. Lose her number." Aemond sat the phone down on the center console and didn't bother to hang up.

As long as Jason stayed on the line he'd be able to hear your moans of pleasure, wet skin slapping on wet skin as you began to bounce on his cock with renewed passion. "You're such an asshole," you said, a third climax quickly approaching.

"Just keep fucking me, baby girl. Don't worry about him, he hung up.” Honestly, Aemond didn’t know if Jason hung up. He might have laughed if it weren't for his own peak tightening his balls. He wasn't going to last much longer. "Squeeze my cock. Be a gold girl and soak my cock. I wanna feel you cum first," he groaned, voice bordering desperate.

"Cum with me. Fill me up with all of you," you whispered, moaning by his ear.

Goosebumps erupted on his skin. He didn't need to be told twice. Those words falling from your lips was all he needed to unload in you with twitch after mighty twitch, coating your walls with his seed. You crumbled with him. You rode your pleasure out on him, slowly easing once it all started to be too much. He softened inside you and you carefully moved from atop him.

There was a mess all over his groin and all between your thighs, too. If you thought you needed a shower before getting into Aemond's car, now you really needed one. Outside, the storm was finally letting up.

You both fixed yourself in partially stunned and satisfied silence – your underwear being the only thing to clean yourselves with.

It was Aemond who broke it. "Stay over with me tonight."

You looked at him and smiled. "Long as I can shower."

"Of course you can," he said, eye twinkling with more than mischief.

"And, long as I can sleep in one of your shirts."

"You already know the answer to that one, bunny."

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

Masterlist

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Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @ruby-dragon @bloodwyrmcaraxes @chompchompluke @fan-goddess

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @sahvlren @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @rafesbarbiegirl @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista @avidreader73

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #modern aemond #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond imagine #aemond fic #request

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remusjohnslupin · 1 month ago

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♦ ELLYN REYNE: Tywald Lannister had long been betrothed to the Red Lion's spirited young sister, Lady Ellyn. This strong-willed and hot-tempered maiden, who had for years anticipated becoming the Lady of Casterly Rock, was unwilling to forsake that dream. In the aftermath of her betrothed's death, she persuaded his twin brother, Tion, to set aside his own betrothal to a daughter of Lord Rowan of Goldengrove and espouse her instead.

#asoiafedit #asoiafwomensource #gotedit #preasoiafsource #gotladies #fantasyedit #preasoiafedit #pregotedit #asoiafmine #preasoiafladies #mine*#ellyn reyne #QUEUE.

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novaursa · 23 days ago

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The Second Daughter (the lady of the west)

- Summary: You were born as a second daughter under the watchful eye of a full moon. And just like the moon you were beautiful—and cursed to exist only in the dark.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Jason Lannister

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: home

- Next part: herald's gifts

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @l3thal-l0lita @ninihrtss @barnes70stark

From the Chronicles of the Realm: The Princess of the Rock

Grand Maester Tommas writes:

"The arrival of Princess Y/N Targaryen to Casterly Rock marked a momentous occasion in the history of House Lannister. As both a princess of the royal bloodline and the newly wedded Lady of Casterly Rock, her presence was seen as a bridge between two of the realm’s most powerful houses.

In the weeks following her arrival, the princess demonstrated remarkable adaptability despite her well-documented blindness. With the assistance of Lady Leonella Lannister, the household staff, and her own ladies, Marna and Alys, the princess familiarized herself with the vast halls and corridors of the Rock. It was said that she moved with a grace that belied her lack of sight, guided by her keen senses and the careful descriptions provided by her companions.

She quickly endeared herself to the servants and retainers with her quiet demeanor and kind words. Even the guards who had initially regarded her dragon, Silverwing, with unease found themselves speaking of the princess with respect and admiration. The sight of her standing on the cliffs beside the great silver beast became a symbol of the newfound strength and unity of House Lannister."

Mushroom recounts:

"Ah, the little dragon princess settling into the lion’s den—what a tale! Word reached me even in King’s Landing of how she adjusted to life among the golden-haired pride. They say she walked the halls of Casterly Rock as though she could see every stone and tapestry, and that her husband, the ever-proud Jason Lannister, hovered about her like a lion guarding his most prized prey.

Now, let’s not pretend this union was all diplomacy and duty. Jason Lannister, smug as a cat with cream, was said to dote on her in ways that made even the most seasoned courtiers blush. ‘She’s my flame,’ he was heard saying more than once, much to the amusement (and occasional annoyance) of his family.

And in the bedchamber? Oh, don’t think I’ll skip over that. Servants whispered of Jason’s refusal to leave her side most nights, his booming laughter and the occasional muffled giggle of the princess escaping through the heavy doors of their chambers. I may not have witnessed it myself, but trust me when I say the Rock hasn’t seen such passion since Lann the Clever himself."

Lady Ellyn Lefford writes in her memoirs:

"As a bannerman of House Lannister, I had the privilege of meeting Princess Y/N shortly after her arrival at the Rock. Despite her blindness, she carried herself with the poise and dignity befitting her station, her voice soft but commanding respect.

I observed how she navigated her new role as Lady of Casterly Rock with an impressive balance of humility and authority. She attended council meetings alongside Lord Jason, offering insight when necessary but never overstepping her bounds. Her understanding of the political intricacies of the realm was subtle yet effective—a testament to her Targaryen heritage and the education she received at court.

One particular moment stands out in my memory. During a feast held in her honor, a visiting lord made an ill-advised comment about her inability to oversee the Rock effectively due to her blindness. Without missing a beat, she replied, ‘I may not see as you do, my lord, but I assure you, I observe more than you might think.’ The hall erupted in applause, and the lord’s face turned as red as the wine in his goblet."

Maester Tommas continues:

"The princess’s bond with Silverwing also became a point of fascination for the people of the West. The great dragon, who made her perch on the cliffs overlooking the Rock, was often seen flying above the castle or basking in the sunlight. It was said that the princess visited her dragon daily, speaking to her in High Valyrian and running her hands over the smooth scales as if drawing strength from the creature.

This bond inspired both awe and fear among the Lannister bannermen. While some saw Silverwing as a symbol of power, others whispered concerns about the potential for fire and blood should the princess’s loyalties ever be tested. Jason Lannister, however, was quick to reassure his vassals, emphasizing that the princess and her dragon were protectors of the Rock, not threats to it."

Mushroom concludes:

"But let me tell you the juiciest part, for I know that’s what you came for. Jason Lannister, the proud lion, didn’t just settle for being her husband—he became her shadow. Servants spoke of how he refused to let her dine alone, often carrying her plate himself if she seemed too weary. He’d boast to his family about her beauty, her wit, her dragon, and even her embroidery, as though she had stitched the sun itself into a banner for him.

And the princess? She seemed to take to her new role with quiet strength. But don’t let her calm demeanor fool you—there’s fire in that one, mark my words. Between her dragon, her poise, and the undeniable devotion of her husband, the princess of the Rock is not one to be underestimated. If the lions think they’ve tamed the dragon, they might one day find themselves scorched."

Conclusion by Maester Tommas:

"Though her initial days at Casterly Rock were marked by transition and adjustment, Princess Y/N Targaryen has quickly proven herself as a capable and beloved Lady of the Rock. Her marriage to Jason Lannister has solidified the bond between House Targaryen and House Lannister, creating a foundation for what many hope will be a prosperous and enduring alliance."

From the Chronicles of the Realm: A Lion’s Heir in the Making

Grand Maester Tommas writes:

"Four moons after the union of Lord Jason Lannister and Princess Y/N Targaryen, word reached King’s Landing that the princess was with child. The news spread swiftly through the court, carried by ravens and eager tongues alike, and it was met with a flurry of emotions among the royal family.

King Viserys I Targaryen was said to have been overcome with joy upon hearing the news. 'My Y/N is giving us another light,' he reportedly said, tears streaming down his face as he clutched the raven’s missive. The king, always tender-hearted when it came to his daughters, immediately ordered a grand feast to be prepared in honor of the announcement, though the princess herself was far away in Casterly Rock.

Not all in the Red Keep greeted the news with the same exuberance. Prince Aegon, known for his unguarded tongue, was overheard grumbling about the 'predicament' of his favorite sister, declaring that she should not have married at all if it meant she would be 'taken from her family and forced into such things.' The boy’s displeasure, though genuine, was met with laughter by some of the courtiers, who saw it as the petulance of youth. Still, those closer to the royal family noted his lingering attachment to his elder sister and his unease at her absence."

Mushroom recounts:

"Ah, the news of the princess’s impending babe hit King’s Landing like a storm in the Stepstones! The lords and ladies of the court clucked their tongues and whispered behind their goblets, each with their own opinion on the matter.

The King? Oh, he wept like a babe himself. I was there when he read the raven, tears dripping into his wine as he muttered blessings for his daughter. ‘A grandchild,’ he said. ‘A union of lion and dragon.’ But for all his joy, there was a shadow in the room. Rhaenyra, the Princess of Dragonstone, looked pale as milk when she heard the news.

And why, you ask? Because Rhaenyra remembered too well the cries of her mother, Queen Aemma, in her final moments. ‘Childbirth is a battlefield,’ Queen Aemma had once said, and those words lingered in her daughter’s mind. Rhaenyra feared for her sister’s wellbeing, her thoughts no doubt haunted by memories of the blood and screams that had stolen their mother away.

As for the boy prince, Aegon, he sulked about the Red Keep like a pup denied his favorite bone. ‘Why should she have to suffer?’ he demanded of anyone who would listen. ‘She’s my sister, not some broodmare for the lions!’ Bless the boy, but he’s got a temper to match his grandsire."

Lady Laena Velaryon (letter to her twin brother, Ser Laenor Velaryon):

"I have heard the news of Princess Y/N’s child, and though the court rejoices, I cannot help but feel a pang of worry for her. Though she is a dragon in spirit, she is still flesh and blood. The death of her mother, Queen Aemma, left its mark on all who loved her, and I fear that shadow now falls over her daughters.

Rhaenyra has confided in me that she prays daily for her sister’s health. She has sent ravens to Casterly Rock, urging the maesters there to exercise every precaution. ‘She is stronger than I am,’ Rhaenyra said to me, ‘but even the strongest of us are not invincible.’

May the gods bless Princess Y/N and her child, and may her dragon’s fire protect her through the trials to come."

Grand Maester Tommas continues:

"Meanwhile, at Casterly Rock, the announcement of the princess’s pregnancy was met with great celebration. Lord Jason Lannister, ever the proud husband, was said to have declared to his bannermen, 'A lion and a dragon together—we’ll have a child with the strength of stone and the fire of the gods.'

The maesters of the Rock, led by Maester Halford, began preparations to ensure the princess’s health. Halford noted her resilience, writing in his records, 'The princess, though blind, possesses a fortitude unmatched by many. She has shown no signs of frailty thus far, and her demeanor remains calm and assured. Lord Jason’s devotion to her is evident; he rarely leaves her side and has instructed all within the castle to attend to her every need.'

Silverwing, the princess’s dragon, continued to perch on the cliffs of Casterly Rock, a silent but imposing guardian. Her presence was said to calm the princess, who often spent time speaking to her in High Valyrian, her hands tracing the dragon’s scales as though seeking strength from the ancient creature."

Mushroom concludes:

"Now, what does this all mean for the realm? A babe of both lion and dragon blood could change the tides of power—or so the lords whisper. But let’s not forget, a babe must be born first, and the battlefield of the birthing bed is no small matter.

As for the princess herself, I hear she remains composed, though the servants at the Rock say she clings to her dragon more often these days. And her husband? Jason Lannister struts about like he’s already won the Grand Tourney. Let’s hope his pride doesn’t come before a fall, for this story is far from over. The lions and dragons may rejoice now, but storms are always brewing."

The late afternoon sun bathed the cliffs of Casterly Rock in golden light, the distant sound of waves crashing against stone a steady backdrop to the bustling castle. Inside your chambers, the air was still and warm, the faint scent of lavender lingering from the tea Alys had prepared earlier. You sat on a cushioned chair near the hearth, your hands lightly resting over the soft fabric of your gown, just below your ribcage, where your body had begun to change. Though you had suspected it for moons, the confirmation had brought a mixture of emotions—joy, apprehension, and a faint flicker of fear.

Marna bustled about the room, her movements purposeful as she placed a small platter of dried fruits and cheese on the table beside you. “You’ve barely eaten today, princess,” she said gently. “You need to keep your strength.”

You smiled faintly, turning your face toward her voice. “Thank you, Marna. I’ll eat something soon.”

Marna hesitated, her motherly concern evident even in her silence. “It’s not just for you anymore,” she reminded softly. “There’s a little one relying on you now.”

Your hand instinctively moved to rest against your abdomen, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “I know,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “It still feels… strange to say it out loud.”

The sound of the door opening drew your attention, and you recognized Jason’s familiar footfalls as he entered. His tone was light as he called out, “There you are. I thought I might have to search the entire Rock for you.”

You laughed softly, the sound easing the tension that had been lingering in your chest. “I haven’t moved from this chair all afternoon.”

Jason crossed the room in a few quick strides, and you felt the warmth of his presence as he knelt beside you. His hand found yours, his grip firm yet tender. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his green eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

“I’m alright,” you assured him, your fingers tightening briefly around his. “It’s… a lot to take in, but I’m adjusting.”

Jason leaned closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “You don’t have to do this alone, Y/N. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

You nodded, your lips pressing together as you struggled to put your thoughts into words. “I’ve been thinking about my mother,” you admitted finally. “About what happened to her.”

Jason’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening for a moment before he softened, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “Your mother was a strong woman,” he said. “And you are just as strong, if not more. But you don’t have to face this with fear. We’ll have the best maesters, the best care—you’ll be safe.”

“I know,” you said, though the lingering shadows of doubt still clung to you. “But I can’t help thinking of her. Of what she went through.”

Jason’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his voice steady. “And that’s why I’ll make sure nothing like that happens to you. You’re not alone in this, Y/N. You never will be.”

His words brought a swell of emotion to your chest, and you smiled faintly, the tension easing just a little. “Thank you,” you murmured. “It helps, hearing you say that.”

Jason rose, his hand still clasped in yours as he pulled you gently to your feet. “Come,” he said, his voice lighter now. “Let’s walk. The fresh air will do you good.”

You allowed him to guide you, your steps slow as you adjusted to the weight of your changing body. The castle corridors felt less imposing with Jason at your side, his arm steadying you as you moved toward one of the balconies overlooking the sea.

As the salty breeze brushed against your face, you inhaled deeply, letting the air fill your lungs. Jason stood beside you, his arm slipping around your waist as he pulled you closer.

“You’ve been through so much already,” he said quietly. “But I’ve never doubted your strength, Y/N. And I won’t let anything happen to you or our child.”

You turned toward him, your unseeing eyes lifting to meet his. “I believe you,” you said softly. “And I’ll do my part to keep us both safe.”

He smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. The two of you stood there, the sea stretching endlessly before you, a reminder of both the challenges and the possibilities that lay ahead. Though the road would not be without its trials, you felt a spark of hope take root, bolstered by Jason’s unwavering support and the bond growing within you.

One Day Later

The faint hum of activity echoed through the stone corridors of Casterly Rock, the sound of distant footsteps, the rustle of fabric, and the clink of goblets carried by servants. Though the fortress was vast, its once-daunting halls had become familiar to you, their twists and turns imprinted on your mind through weeks of patient learning and careful guidance. Now, you moved through the Rock with confidence, your steps steady as Marna followed a respectful distance behind, ready to assist if needed but allowing you the space to lead.

You paused near a high window where the sun poured through, warming the stone beneath your fingers. The salt-tinged breeze drifting in carried the distant cry of seabirds, a sound that had become a daily companion. Turning your head toward Marna’s light footsteps, you smiled faintly.

“Another bright day,” you remarked softly. “The wind feels calmer than usual.”

Marna, ever attentive, nodded. “It is, my lady. Perfect for holding court, if I may say.”

You laughed gently, continuing toward the hall where Jason had asked for your presence during the morning’s petitions. As you passed through the grand corridor, a pair of guards bowed respectfully, their armor clinking softly.

“Good morning, Princess,” one of them greeted.

“Good morning,” you replied, inclining your head in their direction. The warmth in their tone told you that your presence had become a familiar and welcome sight.

When you reached the great hall, the bustle of activity grew louder. Lords and stewards, bannermen and merchants, all awaited their turn to speak. The grand chamber smelled faintly of beeswax and fresh rushes, mingling with the aroma of spiced wine. Jason was already seated at the high table, his golden hair catching the morning light. He stood as you entered, his smile warm and proud.

“You’ve grown quicker, my love,” he teased gently, descending the steps to meet you.

“Perhaps,” you replied with a small smirk. “Or perhaps I’ve simply learned my way.”

Jason chuckled, offering his arm. “In either case, you make an entrance that puts the rest of us to shame.”

He led you to the seat beside his, where a servant pulled out a chair and helped guide you gently. Jason leaned close, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Your presence lends this hall more dignity than I ever could. You’re making quite the impression.”

You smiled, settling comfortably. “Then I hope I can live up to it.”

The first petitioner approached soon after—a merchant seeking permission to increase his trade routes across Lannister lands. You listened attentively as Jason posed questions, his voice measured and authoritative. When the merchant hesitated over specifics, you interjected softly.

“Your proposed route overlaps with another merchant’s claim,” you said, recalling a detail from a previous meeting. “Perhaps an alternative path could be agreed upon to avoid disputes.”

The merchant blinked, startled by your insight, before bowing deeply. “Of course, Princess. Your wisdom is most welcome.”

Jason’s green eyes sparkled with pride as he glanced at you. “Well said,” he murmured.

As the petitions continued, your confidence grew. Each interaction further solidified your place as Lady of Casterly Rock, and the respect of those who came before you was evident in their deferential tones and careful words.

Later, as the hall began to empty and the morning’s business concluded, Jason turned to you, his expression softening. “You’ve taken to this better than I ever could have imagined.”

“It helps to have a patient guide,” you replied, your tone teasing.

He laughed, his hand brushing over yours. “Still, you’ve done more than just adapt—you’ve thrived.”

Before you could respond, the doors opened once more, and Lady Leonella entered, her steps as confident as always. “There you are,” she said warmly, her gaze flicking between you and Jason. “I hear you’ve been quite the team this morning.”

“She’s brilliant,” Jason said without hesitation. “I may have to start worrying she’ll outshine me.”

Leonella chuckled, approaching to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. “I never doubted it. You’ve brought something new to the Rock, Y/N—something we didn’t realize we were missing.”

You smiled, her words filling you with a quiet pride. “I’m only doing my part.”

“And doing it well,” Leonella said firmly. “Now, if you’ve finished here, the kitchens have prepared something special for midday. You must keep your strength, especially now.”

Jason rose, extending a hand to help you to your feet. “Mother’s right, as always. Let’s eat. You’ve earned it.”

The dining chamber was warm and inviting, its high windows letting in the afternoon sunlight that danced across the golden dishes and crimson tablecloth. The meal was modest by Casterly Rock’s usual standards but still rich with flavors—spiced venison, fresh-baked bread, and a delicate stew fragrant with herbs. A pitcher of honeyed wine rested near the center of the table, and the faint aroma of lemon cakes lingered as a servant placed a tray of them nearby.

Jason sat at your side, his goblet of wine half-forgotten as he spoke animatedly with his mother. Lady Leonella’s eyes sparkled with delight, her hair pinned back elegantly. She leaned forward, her hands clasped lightly on the table.

“I still cannot believe it,” she said, her voice warm. “A grandchild on the way. It feels like a blessing from the Seven themselves.”

You smiled softly, your hand resting on the slight swell of your abdomen. “It still feels surreal to me,” you admitted, your tone gentle. “But knowing how happy it makes you all… it eases my nerves.”

Jason reached over, his hand covering yours. “You’re not alone in this, Y/N,” he reminded you, his voice steady and affectionate. “We’ll face everything together.”

Leonella nodded, her gaze full of maternal pride. “You’ve already brought so much light to this family, my dear. And now, a child—our future. I couldn’t have asked for more.”

Jason chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “If she keeps winning your favor like this, Mother, I may become irrelevant.”

Leonella laughed lightly, her tone teasing. “Don’t worry, Jason. You’ll always be my eldest son, even if you are occasionally insufferable.”

Before Jason could retort, the door to the solar opened, and one of his men entered, his expression measured but purposeful. The man bowed briefly, his armor catching the light. “My lord,” he said, his tone respectful but urgent. “Lord Allard Reyne has arrived. He requests an audience to discuss the mines bordering your lands and his.”

Jason stiffened, his relaxed demeanor evaporating as his jaw tightened. “Allard Reyne,” he muttered, his voice low and edged with irritation. “Of course he’d choose now to show his face.”

Leonella’s brow furrowed, her gaze flicking to Jason. “What’s the matter, Jason? Allard is hardly a threat.”

Jason leaned forward, his expression grim. “He’s not a threat, but he’s a thorn in my side. That man would argue over a blade of grass if it suited him. The mines on our border have been a source of contention for years, and every time we reach an agreement, he finds some way to stir up trouble.”

The guard shifted slightly, sensing Jason’s rising frustration. “Shall I send him away, my lord?”

Jason let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “No,” he said finally, his tone resigned. “If we don’t address this now, it’ll only fester. Show him to the hall. I’ll meet him shortly.”

The guard bowed and left the room, leaving a tense silence in his wake. Jason turned back to the table, his fingers drumming lightly against the wood.

Leonella placed a calming hand on his arm. “Jason, you mustn’t let him provoke you. Handle this matter with the patience your father always admired in you.”

Jason huffed a faint laugh. “Patience is the last thing I feel when it comes to Allard. But I’ll do my best.”

You reached for his hand, your touch grounding him. “Perhaps this time will be different,” you offered gently. “If nothing else, you’ll have the chance to show him your strength and resolve.”

Jason’s green eyes softened as he looked at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You always see the best in people, Y/N. I’ll try to borrow some of that faith.”

Leonella rose gracefully from her chair. “I’ll leave you to prepare, Jason. And Y/N,” she added, turning to you with a warm smile, “rest while you can. You have enough to think about without dealing with stubborn lords.”

You smiled back. “Thank you, Leonella.”

As Jason escorted his mother to the door, he glanced back at you. “I won’t let this keep me long,” he said firmly. “We’ll continue our day after I deal with Allard.”

You nodded, watching him go, his broad shoulders set with determination. Though the prospect of Lord Allard Reyne’s visit clearly weighed on him, you couldn’t help but feel a quiet pride in the way Jason carried himself—with strength, honor, and an unwavering sense of duty.

The great hall of Casterly Rock was quiet save for the faint crackle of the hearth and the low murmur of voices as Jason strode in. At the far end of the room stood Lord Allard Reyne, his crimson doublet embroidered with the sigil of his house—a red lion rampant. His eyes scanned the hall with a calculating gaze, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as Jason approached.

Allard turned and inclined his head in a mock bow. “Lord Jason,” he greeted, his voice smooth but laced with a hint of condescension. “Always a pleasure to visit the Rock.”

Jason’s jaw tightened as he took his place at the head of the hall, standing tall and composed despite the annoyance bubbling beneath the surface. “Allard,” he said curtly, gesturing to a seat near the table. “You’ve come to discuss the mines, I assume.”

Allard chuckled softly, his steps deliberate as he approached the offered seat but chose to remain standing. “Ah, straight to business. You’ve not changed a bit, Jason. I remember when we had the pleasure of discussing… other matters during the princess’s visit.”

Jason’s green eyes hardened, though he maintained a measured tone. “That was a long time ago, Allard. We’re here to discuss the mines, not revisit old conversations.”

Allard’s smirk widened, his confidence unshaken. “Indeed. Though I must admit, the memory of her visit lingers. The princess was a vision, wasn’t she? I daresay half the realm envied you when you secured her favor.”

Jason’s patience thinned, his tone dropping to a dangerous calm. “My wife is beyond reproach, and I won’t have her dragged into petty posturing.”

“Petty?” Allard said, feigning offense. “I merely meant to acknowledge her grace. Though, if memory serves, I did attempt to warn her about certain… qualities of yours. Stubbornness, for one. And an aversion to compromise.”

Jason stepped forward, his voice like steel. “If you’ve come to throw insults, you’ve wasted your time. If you have a genuine grievance, speak it plainly.”

Allard raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk fading slightly. “Very well. The mines. Our lands share a border, and as you well know, the richest vein lies along that edge. My men report that your workers have been encroaching on our side. Naturally, I’d prefer to avoid conflict.”

Jason crossed his arms, his expression unyielding. “Your men’s reports are mistaken. My workers know the boundaries well and have no reason to stray. If there’s been a misunderstanding, I’ll send someone to investigate.”

Allard tilted his head, considering. “An investigation? How diplomatic of you. Though I can’t help but wonder—how long before this investigation conveniently swings in your favor?”

Jason’s hands tightened into fists, but he kept his composure. “Careful, Allard. You’re treading dangerous ground.”

“And you’re avoiding the heart of the matter,” Allard shot back, his tone sharpening. “These mines are vital, Jason. To both our houses. Surely we can find a way to benefit mutually.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed. “You mean for me to cede part of the claim to you.”

Allard smiled thinly. “A reasonable proposal, don’t you think? A show of goodwill between lions.”

Jason stepped closer, his presence towering. “You mistake my patience for weakness, Allard. These mines are in my lands. Any agreement we reach will be on my terms.”

The tension in the room crackled like a drawn bowstring, and for a moment, neither man spoke. Then Allard’s smile returned, though it no longer reached his eyes. “So, the great Jason Lannister digs his heels in once again. Very well, I’ll wait for your investigation. But don’t think this matter is resolved. The Reynes have long memories.”

Jason didn’t flinch. “And the Lannisters have long claws. Remember that.”

Allard inclined his head mockingly. “A pleasure, as always, Jason. Do give my regards to the princess. A shame she isn’t here to grace us with her presence. Perhaps she might have convinced you to be more reasonable.”

Jason’s expression darkened further, his voice low. “Leave my wife out of this.”

With a final smirk, Allard turned and strode toward the doors, his crimson cloak trailing behind him. Jason remained where he stood, his fists clenched and his jaw tight, until the heavy doors closed behind the departing lord.

One of Jason’s retainers approached cautiously, his voice tentative. “Shall I arrange for the investigation, my lord?”

Jason exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax. “Yes. Send men to the border and report back with anything they find. I won’t give Allard an inch without proof.”

As the hall emptied, Jason’s thoughts lingered on Allard’s parting words, his frustration mingling with a fierce protectiveness. He would ensure that Casterly Rock—and you—remained secure, no matter what schemes the Reynes might devise.

The private bath was warm, steam rising in delicate tendrils from the surface of the water. The chamber was lit softly by candles placed in alcoves along the walls, their flickering light reflecting off the smooth stone and casting the room in a amber glow. The faint scent of lavender and sandalwood filled the air, soothing your senses as you leaned back against Jason, the warmth of the water enveloping you both.

His arms were loosely draped around you, his chest pressed against your back as you rested against him. The tension in his body, however, had not gone unnoticed, even as his fingers absently traced patterns on your arm.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you said softly, tilting your head slightly toward him. “What’s on your mind?”

Jason sighed, his breath warm against your shoulder. “Allard Reyne,” he admitted, his tone clipped. “He arrived today, claiming there’s a dispute over the mines near the border of our lands.”

You frowned slightly, turning your face toward him. “What sort of dispute?”

Jason’s arms tightened around you, his irritation evident. “He claims my men have been encroaching on Reyne territory. It’s nonsense, of course. Allard just wants leverage to wrest control of the mines—or part of them—away from us.”

You could feel the annoyance radiating from him, his voice growing sharper with each word. “He’s always been a thorn in my side. Even back when you visited Casterly Rock, he was scheming, trying to turn your favor away from me. The man thrives on provoking others.”

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his hand where it rested on your arm. “And he clearly hasn’t succeeded,” you said gently. “You’re Lord of Casterly Rock. Those mines are yours, and he knows it. Don’t let him bait you.”

Jason exhaled slowly, some of the tension leaving his body at your touch. “It’s infuriating,” he muttered. “The audacity of him, walking in here and acting like he has the upper hand.”

You turned fully in his arms, your hands coming to rest lightly on his chest. “Jason,” you said softly, your voice calm but firm. “You’ve always been stronger and smarter than men like Allard. He thrives on chaos, but you command respect. That’s why he’s so desperate—because he knows he can’t match you.”

His eyes softened as he looked at you, the frustration in his expression easing. “You always know what to say,” he murmured, his voice low.

“It’s only the truth,” you replied with a small smile. “Don’t let him ruin this moment for us.”

Jason’s lips quirked into a faint smile as his hands slid to your waist beneath the water. “You have a way of making me forget everything else, you know that?”

You leaned closer, your fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. “Then let me help you forget,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his.

The kiss began softly, his mouth warm and firm against yours, but it quickly deepened, the heat between you matching the warmth of the water. Jason’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer as you straddled his lap, the intimacy of the moment dissolving the last of his worries.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“You’re a good man, Jason,” you replied, your breath hitching as his lips trailed down your neck. “That’s all you’ve ever needed to be.”

His hands roamed over your body, his touch both reverent and possessive as he kissed you again, this time with more urgency. The water sloshed gently as he shifted, guiding you closer until there was no space left between you.

When your bodies finally joined, the connection was electric, a shared rhythm that left no room for words. His hands supported you, his movements careful yet fervent, as though trying to pour every unspoken feeling into this moment. You held onto him, your fingers tangling in his damp hair as the heat between you built, drowning out everything else.

As the tension crested, Jason whispered your name like a prayer, his voice filled with devotion. The world seemed to still around you as you reached that shared peak, the connection between you feeling unbreakable.

Afterward, he held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you as the water settled around you both. The irritation that had plagued him earlier was gone, replaced by a sense of calm and contentment.

“Thank you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“For what?” you asked softly, resting your head against his chest.

“For reminding me of what truly matters,” he said, his voice steady. “And for being the one thing Allard Reyne—or anyone else—can never take from me.”

You smiled, your hand brushing over his heart. “Always,” you promised, the word carrying the weight of your love and devotion.

#house of the dragon #hotd #fire and blood #game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #house targaryen #house lannister #the second daughter #hotd jason #jason lannister #jason x reader #jason x you #jason x y/n

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themotherofhorses · 2 years ago

Text

pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

summary: cassandra baratheon dreams of prince aemond. the same cannot be said for prince aemond himself.

warnings: explicit language. smut. simp!aemond eating out his girl because the feast apparently sucked. slight breeding kink. voyeurism. cass gets her poor lil heart broken for the plot.

notes: i texted @chainsawsangel with the following:

"me when I break cassandra baratheon’s poor lil heart by having her come across aemond eating out his handmaid. #feminism".

his handmaid's tales | main masterlist

Lady Cassandra Baratheon stumbles across them next, though by an honest mistake as well.

(It hurts her heart a bit too much to considerate it anything other than that)

Foolish, foolish, foolish girl.

She had always been a prideful child, too high-spirited and headstrong for her own good. Her own lady mother warned her of that. But on her eight-and-ten nameday, her lord father brought up the prospect of a betrothal between her and Prince Aemond Targaryen.

Cassandra liked that very much- the idea of becoming his princess. Each night before sleep, she’d mumble his name into her pillow, a tiny prayer to any listening god that they would make him hers.

Please, please, please…

Prince Aemond…Aemond Targaryen, she whispered, a smile curling on her lips. One day he’ll be my husband, and I his lady wife.

Three months later, House Baratheon arrived at King’s Landing to celebrate the nameday of the Princess Rhaenyra, the realm’s heir.

Cassandra had brushed out her long dark hair until it shone in the evening sunlight and chosen her finest red silks. She had been looking forward to this day for weeks since learning of her possible marriage to Prince Aemond. Prince Aemond, her future betrothed. She giggled at the thought. Just thinking of him stirred butterflies within her tummy, a faint fluttering feeling inside. She was so in love with him.

He was so tall and handsome and strong, with sharp, stern features and hair like moonlight. Everything a prince ought to be.

Prince Aemond, my future husband.

Prince Aemond spared her not a single glance during the banquet, much to her embarrassment. Cassandra had made sure to look her best, all in the hopes of catching his attention. Several Lannister lords complimented her well throughout the night. But her prince remained at the royal family’s long table, seated in his chair with no desire to move. Or ask for my hand in a dance, she thought with a pout.

“Perhaps he does not know of the betrothal?” Her sister, Ellyn, offered. “There could be a chance that he was never told.”

Cassandra was not appeased. “No, the queen would’ve told him; it is in her good natural…perhaps he does not care to dance,” she sniffed in disapproval. She would prefer a husband that would twirl her around the room, the way a prince does with his princess. She picked up her fork, quietly chewing on the roasted meat as she spotted her Prince Aemond then slipping out of the room. Her eyebrow raised, but she said nothing more, too disappointed and sadden to push the matter further.

“Go talk to him after this,” her mother, Lady Elenda, murmured into her ear, rubbing her shoulder. “Dragons love a stormy sky as much as they do a clear and bright-blue one.”

Cassandra does what her mother told her, walking down the dimmed Keep’s hallway, running a hand across the stoned wall as she searches for Prince Aemond’s bedchamber. If the gods heard my prayers, then I shall soon share it… But as she nears one of the little libraries, she overhears a soft moan, feminine and breathless.

And another…and another.

A hiccup this time.

A whimper for the fourth.

It causes her cheeks to flush pink as she stands for a moment outside the room, hearing more moans and whimpers and hiccups fill the air. Servants, perhaps? She considers that for a slight second before the girl inside moans out a name that makes her breath hitch in her throat and her stomach begin to tauten.

“Aemond…”

No, she thinks, pressing a hand against her breast, feeling her poor heart painfully quickening within her chest. No. No. No. Cassandra shakes her head, not willing to believe such. No. No. No, it cannot be. But…

“A-Aemond…”

Breathing deeply, she leans in, peering into the room as her gaze locks onto a girl perched atop the dark, mahogany desk. Her head is flung back as she trembles and moans, tangling her hand in the silver hair of her Prince Aemond, who is nestled between her thighs. Oh…but Cassandra knows what he is doing. The girl’s chest rises and falls, heavy breasts tugged out from her plain servant dress, her other hand pinching both swollen nipples.

“Ah…! Mmmm, oh sweet gods, Aemond….”

Cassandra feels ready to faint. Tears swell in her dark eyes as she watches Aemond shake his head and smush his handsome face deeper between the girl’s quivering thighs, strong hands holding her legs apart. “Keep them apart…good girl,” she hears him mumble. “That damned feast outside did nothing to quell my hunger, such a fucking waste of my time.”

The girl bites her lip, her shoulders trembling.

“I want to live here, in between your thighs,” and Aemond lifts his face up from her soaking cunt, kissing the inside of both her thighs. Once, twice, four times, so soft and tender and loving. He brings two fingers to trace along her folds up to her clit, chuckling when the girl shivers and gasps. “My pretty little handmaid- my precious girl.”

“My prince…”

Handmaid? Cassandra scoffs at that, several fat tears already streaking down her cheeks. Her pretty dark eyes are probably smudged and red and absolutely ugly.

A handmaid…she’s lost to a fucking lowborn handmaid, a girl nothing more than the dirt beneath her dainty sandaled feet.

She’d laugh if she wasn’t so fucking heartbroken.

Cassandra keeps her eyes on her Aemond as he rises to his feet, pulling the handmaid’s face up to his for a passionate kiss. She sucks in a breath, hearing the muffled moans and wet noises and the prince’s low groans, and the dirty, sinful words that he mutters against her puffy lips.

“I’m not your prince, my love. How many times must I need to remind you?”

The handmaid shakes her head, shying away before his fingers grip her chin, tugging her face back to his. “All the babes I’ve seeded into your belly, and yet you still think of me as nothing more than your prince….” Aemond chuckles, tracing her bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. Cassandra can see his other hand fall to his pants and hears his belt unbuckling. “Rest assured, I’ll give you a few more months, but then my baby will be in your womb again.”

“But we already have three,” the handmaid whines, leaning back on her palms as she eyes the prince’s hardened cock when his pants puddle down to his ankles. But there is a smile on her lips, and her pretty features are twisted in glowing happiness and excitement. She reaches forward, wrapping a hand around the head of his dick, smirking when he hisses. “Let the twins reach their third nameday, my love, before we consider our next one.”

Aemond hums. “We’ll see.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Cassandra Baratheon leaves soon after that, face tucked within her hands as she curses the gods above for not listening to her prayers.

“Why? Why? Why?” she asks, again and again. “But why would they?” she soon mumbles, blinking the new tears back. “They were foolish wishes. I was too fucking foolish.”

She hears laughter and singing, mocking her misery, and when she flies past the royal nursery, she fails to notice the good Queen Alicent cuddling a brown-haired babe to her chest.

And at her feet sat two pretty twin children playing with their little wooden dragon figurines.

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#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond drabble #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #handmaid!reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

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witchofhimring · 1 month ago

Text

Disloyalty (Chapter Two)

Book One Masterlist

Synopsis: Adamant of settling scores, Y/n puts a plot into motion. One that will take her right into the royal family.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Ellyn Baratheon

Alys Rivers x Aemond Targaryen

Jaecerion Targaryen x Reader

Jason Lannister x Reader (minor)

(more to come!)

Y/n Tyrells Profiles

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, childbirth, emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, humiliation by Ellyn Baratheon, marital abuse, marital consummation, misogamy (internalized as well as external), brief depictions of smut, mentions of rape (not to the reader), morally grey reader

There was a spurt of blood, an ear piecing scream, and the rush of women coming in. 'She has attacked the princess!' Cerilla called out. They all rushed in, then paused, and gasped. There stood the princess with blood on her hands. Metal oozing with blood going 'drip' onto the ground held by her hand. The blood was yours, grasping at your arm with a long gash on it. Looking up with tearstained eyes (which were not fake, stabbing yourself fucking hurt) you whimpered (which was fake) and made a show of trying to get up. 'Call the guards!' A lady cried. Ellyn whipped around and all the ladies shrank back. As if she had turned into a monster. Then she was back on you. Through the pain you smiled at her, a full grin which none could see but her.

With a great burst of rage she hurled herself at you. Nails like talons tore your skin which was further marred as Ellyn pummeled you with everything she had. Your body went numb from the sudden loss of blood and sudden beating. Even in her last life, no matter how angry, Ellyn had never resorted to beating you. 'No!' And Ellyn was thrown back. Warm arms wrapped themselves around you. It was Flora who came to your rescue, the same one who spoke at your trial. Gathering your shaking figure in her arms she turned on Ellyn. 'How could you!' The other ladies were frozen, even Cerilla. None of them seemed to know what to do. The pain had been worth it. Ellyn stood there all alone. She was the one on trial.

'I am afraid this will scar My Lady.' Maester Orwyle examined the stiches he's put in. Admiring the pure nastiness of it you fought the urge to smile. Ellyn would find it very hard to come back from this. 'Thank you maester.' Once the maester was gone Elinor swept in. 'Y/n, by the gods.' She gasped when you showed her the scar. 'That wicked woman!' You let her pull you into a hug, it felt nice. 'Lets get you to bed. That must have been a terrible shock.' You should have felt more guilty that you were. But the satisfaction quickly snuffed it out. 'Ellyn might as well have stabbed me. I just made sure the world knew who she truly was.' With that reasoning you allowed Elinor to lead you to bed. She fussed over you, making sure everything was comfortable. After serving you a cup of warm honeyed milk you were left alone. The drink was sweet and you savored it. Sweeter still was the taste of victory.

To your surprise you had visitors. 'No one would truly care. They only worry that Ellyn made the royal family look bad.' Months being left alone had banished any hope of others decency. Even if Flora had so sweetly comforted you and the maesters fussed over the wound. Not sleeping you looked at the long scar. It throbbed with delicious pain. It felt so good for some of that pain to be focused on the outside for once. Stabbing yourself had been so sweet, there had been rage in the motion. You imagined sinking the metal into Jenna's thin pale neck and watching the light go out. Carefully you traced the line. They said it would heal but the scar would remain. Unbidden you thought back to that night on Driftmark. Aemond had not been the only one to be injured. Alicent, in her rage, had sliced Rhaenyra's arm. Even now you could not blame her. A mothers rage was powerful, could burn nations.

Elinor came in looking worn out, brown hair slightly escaping the up do. 'Y/n, I am sorry he insisted.' Sitting up you asked 'Who?'. Jaecerion came in looking angrier than you had seen him in a long time. 'Elinor it is alright. I will speak to him.' You knew despite his anger Jaecerion would never hurt you. He looked so much like his brother Aemond from a distance. But when one looked closer they could se the differences. While Aemond's rage was cold, secretive, Jaecerion's was white hot. It showed so clearly on his beautiful face, which resembled a woman's more than a man's. His face was softer and his skin smooth. The Targaryens were truly blessed when it came to looks. Even Helaena in her most wretched state had been lovely.

Jeacerion sat down on the bed, it creaked under his weight. You could smell the lavender essence he bathed in. The scent soothed you, reminiscent of simpler times. While Aemond smelt of salt and sweat his brother reminded you of the forest. With Aemond you went to the alcove and swam in waves. Jaecerion always preferred the forest. There was a large three the two of you would climb and sit in for hours. This was years ago, even before time had turned back. How could you have preferred Aemond when Jaecerion was there? A hand went to his face and like a puppy he leaned into it. Jenna had deprived you of this love, curse her. Yet here he was safe and in your arms.

His lips trailed down your palm and wordlessly the two of you looked into each others eyes. Wonder was in those lilac eyes. Never before had you indulged him so. Always there had been a sort of propriety. Here you were, the energy hot. The he broke away. 'Are you alright?' Was he asking in regards to your injury, or the liberty you had just allowed him to take? 'All is well.' You needed to be bold.

You had always been taught loyalty to house Tyrell, then the Targaryens. Well not this time. From here on out you would be loyal to one person, yourself. Every action you took would be in the service of yourself, your desires, your revenge. Inwards you would now look, in service of a new master. Control was addictive and for a moment you almost did not blame Jenna. How sweet this was, to know plans were of your own doing. You would lay low your enemies and bathe in their blood if so desired.

With a hand still on Jaecerion's face you leaned in. Not too close but enough he was reflected on your eyes. If someone walked in at that moment they would be in no doubt what was happening. The desire was so clear on both ends. Lust and love on his end, desire, lust and revenge on yours. Wetness pooled between your thighs. Silently you cursed the guard outside. You wanted him right here, at that moment.

'I am in no great pain.' You soothed. 'For Ellyn's sake I should hope so.' Jaecerion's hand clenched. Desire stirring ever greater you put both hands on his face. 'But I am better now. Thank you for coming.' Leaning further still, your lips grazed his cheek in the chastest of kisses. You heard his breath hitch with desire and it fuel your own. Despite never being a shy girl you had never dared go so far. Bold you had been before, but never like this. 'I am seizing control of my destiny.' You thought.

The next day you were summoned by Alicent. Flanked by two ladies you were escorted to a room where the Dowager Queen sat on a thronelike chair. Other ladies sat in attendance, silent as the dead. Before Alicent were two chairs, one occupation by Ellyn. Sitting, you spared her a glance out of the corner of your eye. She was pale and trembling slightly. Sympathy did not stir. 'She deserves ever second of this.' Ellyn had been more than happy to put you on trial, questioning your virtue. Now it would be her turn. Noticing several ladies standing you realized Flora and Cerilla were there. Hands clenched on the oak chair as you thought they might be used as witnesses. Suddenly uneasy you tried to remain composed.

Silently everyone sat until the door opened. Otto and Aemond had stridden in imperiously. Surprisingly Alicent got up and it was Otto who sat on the chair. 'How odd.' You thought. His cold hard eyes analyzed you both. 'You look oddly relaxed, Lady Y/n.' 'The Seven Pointed Star says the innocent have nothing to fear.' You coolly replied. Little did they now it was sheer fucking triumph that sustained you. Otto demanded to hear the story. First it was Ellyn's tale, which in all fairness was the truth. Then yours, a lie. Otto seemed utterly confused as to which one was correct. Normally he would take Ellyn's side. But you knew the marriage to Jason Lannister was in the works. Besides, you were a Tyrell. He could not simply have you made guilty.

'Lady Flora, please tell me what you saw and heard.' Nervously Flora stood before him. A chill ran down your spin as you remembered the courtroom. 'Relax. She speaks in your favour.' You soothed. Speak in your favour she did. 'Ellyn sent Cerilla and a maid away leaving her alone with the princess. It was quiet for a bit and then we heard a scream.' Otto leaned forward. 'How screamed.' Flora looked back to you. 'Lady Y/n, I think. So we all came rushing and the princess was standing over her with something sharp. Y/n was on the floor, My Lord she was crying.' Otto dismissed her.

Instead of jubilation you felt oddly lightheaded. Before you swam the Great Hall, and your trial. A painful thump was going off and you wanted to hurl. 'Please let this end.' Triumph was gone replaced by this overwhelming, disgusting weakness. Worse still was when Cerilla took to the stand. 'Lady Y/n was very unhappy when she arrived. When the princess asked for her attention Lady Y/n ignored her.' Otto scrutinized her, and then you. 'Lady Y/n, why did you ignore the princess?' Deciding to answer somewhat truly you replied 'I feared that in anger I would say something unkind.' 'And why is that?' 'As you knew there have been certain unfounded rumors spread. When I was summoned Princess Ellyn accosted me. I believe the words she used were "

‘She called me a whore and threatened me with the Silent Sisters. She insinuated that Queen Alicent was lax, allowed me to seduce her son.’ The last part was merely fabrication. Yet the best lies always had some truth to them. Otto Hightower might not care for you beyond being a chess piece. There was a chance that he might send you away, regardless of who the guilty party was. But bringing up Alicent, and the honour of his house, Otto’s rage would fall on Ellyn completely. Otto’s eyes narrowed. ‘Did she only say this to you?’ Suddenly you realized what was happening. If Otto could silence you, he would. ‘From what I hear she has told this story up many. Although I have not engaged in such talk.’

You dared to look at Ellyn. Resolutely the started ahead. Despite this you could see the rage clear as day. Her carefully manicured nails sunk into wood. No doubt she longed to slash you with them. You imagined her alone in a room, simmering in impotent rage. The satisfaction was so intoxicating you felt dizzy. You wondered how far Ellyn could be pushed before going mad.

Otto turned to Ellyn. He did not say a word for several moments. Shouting would have been less terrifying compared to the look on his face. Never before had you payed much attention to Otto's eyes. Despite their colour you shivered at their coldness. The ridged manner in which he held himself reminded you on one who was just barely holding themselves back. This left you with the feeling of being ill at ease. The conversation may not go where you wanted it to go. Deception had served you well so far, but for how long?

'Did you say these things?' His voice was barely more than a whisper. Even you shrunk back in the wake of his cold fury. One hand in a fist it took everything in you not to flee. Any moment that great anger might turn itself on you. Ellyn's thin mouth was trembling Otto towered above her, a pillar of condensed rage. 'I never meant to question the Dowager Queen's person. Only that Y/n may have abused that position as a trusted companion to the Queen to get close to the Prince.' You could not let her get an edge. Going in for the kill, you suddenly spoke up. 'My Lord, if I may, but people are already questioning the Dowager Queen's honour.' This seemed to be too much for Otto. He looked ready to strangle the pair of you, though which ones his anger would fall on was to be seen. 'Both of you...out! You will go to your rooms and not leave until this investigation is over.' Neither of you needed to be told twice. You were only too happy to escape Otto's anger, for now at least. A lady stepped out and you were escorted back to the room. 'You better keep your head down miss. The Hand is very angry.' You did not need to be told twice.

Sitting alone in the room, with the acceptation of Elinor, you wondered if this plan was worth it. A day had passed and still you heard nothing. What if your plan went south? This had been a gamble, one that might not play out in your favour. You had been so angry that when you stabbed the metal deep into flesh the thought of Ellyn's position had not occurred. Such was your thirst for vengeance. A cold wind had blown in from the north carrying pine on its scent. Looking over the forest you wondered what Alys was doing right now. Being here, sitting on that windowsill you remembered how in Harrenhal one could look out the tower window over a sea of trees. Like a great wave you imagined a great black wave washing everything away. Your dreams had been filled with rivers of blood. Shuddering, you remembered how helpless you had felt. You were tired of feeling helpless.

Eventually someone did come at the end of day two. Thankfully it was Catrina. She looked just the same as when you last saw her. 'How are you Y/n.' She sounded sympathetic, but you could not be sure. Experience had taught you not to trust anyone. Catrina was only a little younger than Jenna, and like that woman had long sweeping sleeves. For one moment you felt the urge to scream, until caution grasped you once more. Placing a smile on your face, you greeted her politely. 'Has The Hand sent you?' 'Yes he has. You are free to go where you will.' And then Catrina got up close to you. 'Y/n, it is best to be careful. The Hand will drop this matter but I suspect he is unhappy. Just look after yourself.' You looked up into her green eyes. 'Do not worry, I have every intention of protecting myself.'

Very soon it became clear what was to happen. This incident was to be swept under the rug. Publicly nothing had happened. If anyone was to aske where you got the scar you simply replied with "a simply accident". But word quickly got around despite Otto's attempts to silence the story. People were looking at you and whispering behind their hands. No one, other than those present, were truly sure what had happened. Only that there was an altercation, with Ellyn as the instigator. The only consolation you received was that Ellyn was doing no better. You had been removed from her service, but she still walked the halls. People would look at her and a few shrunk back. Giggling behind your hands you delighted in her troubles.

You had one week until Otto would betroth you to Jason Lannister. This meant there was only one week for this plan to work. Jaecerion would not be here for long, so you had to move quickly. This would all depend on how you approached Jaecerion. Normally you would not like an upfront approach. Being too eager for a man was unladylike and might put a man off. Though Jaecerion might not mind. Everything was a risk now. Jaecerion would likely be in meeting or flying above to keep an eye on the sky. The best time to press your suit would be the morning, when most of the castle was asleep. Despite the risk you felt there was a sense of victory. This time you were taking life into your own hands. No one but you would decide the course of your life. You would marry who you chose, and wreck havoc on your enemies.

One oddly cold morning you waited by an outlook over the courtyard. As you expected the castle was quiet. The sun was just barely over the horizon. With keen eyes you looked for any sign of a dragon in the sky. Eventually you did. In the far distance you saw a shadow just above the clouds. At first you waited, it could very well be someone else. But as the dragon dipped bellow the clouds you knew who it was. Racing down the stairs you were outside in a moment. Jaecerion came in by horse, his dragon was too large for the courtyard. When he saw you a smile broke over his face. 'Y/n, it is so early.' Not that he seemed unhappy at your presence. A smile broke out over your face. Jaecerion took your hand in his cold one and pressed a kiss to the skin. As he let go the surprisingly short sleeve of your dress showed the scar. 'What is this?' Tenderly he took your wrist. Pretending this had all been a horrible mistake on your part, a show of surprise was made. 'Oh! Nothing.' Quickly you pulled away.

Jaecerion did not let up, as you had expected. Once more he took your arm. 'Who. Did. This.' For once you saw Otto Hightower in his grandson's face. The look in his eyes was just as venomous at Otto's. For one moment you hesitated. You could not really say why. Was it the look in his eyes? The sudden feeling of danger? Ignoring those instincts you told him your story, of how Ellyn had "stabbed" you in a rage. His reaction was just as you expected. His jaw clenched and purple eyes glinted malevolently. A light pink tinge appeared on his cheeks, only when he was angry. On instinct you reached up and touched his face. Turning him by the chin you looked up at him. 'I am alright. She will not come near me again.' 'No she will not.' Jaecerion then turned on his heel and stormed off. Quickly you followed in pursuit. 'Where are you going?' Jaecerion did not even turn around. 'To find my brother.' He snarled. Immediately you knew this was a bad idea. This would completely blow your plan, and you did not want Jaecerion getting hurt. Grabbing him by the arm you pulled Jaecerion to you. Taking him by the arm you were practically chest to chest. 'Please, no.' You did not need to fake any fear. 'I do not want to face the crowns wrath again, please.' For a moment you though he might ignore you and storm off. To your great relief he climbed down. Jaecerion took your hands off him and placed his on your shoulders.

'Is there anything I can do for you?' Perfect. 'I just need protection.' Jaecerion pulled you into a hug. 'I will always protect you, Y/n.'

The dreams had come back. Only this time you knew what to expect. Skeletal trees and rivers of blood had become like breakfast or reading a book, completely normal. You were determined not to be afraid. Sometimes little purple butterflies would fly by you. When looking at the trees there were sometimes blue cocoons amongst the twisted faces and red sap. Most of the time in these dreams you conversed with the faces. Much of the time it was hard to make out what they were trying to say. Waking up you knew that finding Alys was becoming curtail. Less than a week left. With a moan of fear you would roll over and consider the worst. You might as well still be utterly helpless. Then you would see the guards shadow just outside the door. Cerilla's spy. Then your resolve would harden.

You had not forgotten Cerilla's deeds despite everything that had happened. Her enemy's spy was still engraved in your mind. A small rosebud mouth, beauty mark, slight cleft chin, a thin neck. Looking for this woman was tricky. You could not be sure for certain who she was. In the halls you observed the friends of Cerilla. Unfortunately many bore these looks, and you could not be sure if your eyes had been true that day. There were several ideas you had, none of them great. One had been that you would tell the guard a story about needing to go on a walk. Then you would hide behind a statue and wait. Once the guard was done talking with Cerilla's spy you would come around the corner and pretend to walk in on them. You would demand the intruder remove her hood and then the identity would be revealed. The only flaw was that she might realize what you were up to. This had caused you a fair amount of anxiety. There was so much to do in so little time.

While warging certainly sounded interesting it did not serve your current needs. Although the idea of seeing through an animals mind was intriguing. The Seer, a rare ability said to be a blessing from the Old Gods, were merely legend according to most south of the boarder separating the North from south. Once you had been just as dismissive. Alicent had summoned the ladies once more to sew in her rooms. As usual everything was quiet. The whole time Alicent rigidly sat on her chair not saying a word. You would have declined the invitation if at liberty to do so. If everything went according to plan you would not have to obey anyone again. However that goal seemed farther and farther of. Still, you held firm. Defeat was not a word in your vocabulary these days. Like a hound you were on the scent for victory.

Ellyn is not there. You suspect that is because there are orders to keep the two of you apart. Or maybe she was avoiding you. The thought sent a shiver of glee through you, to wreck upon her the same misery she delighted in. Nearly you kicked silk covered feet in glee like a child. Not all your enemies were gone. Cerilla and a few of her friends were by a stain glass window. Why were they not with their mistress. You suspected as spies, either on the orders of Ellyn as well as Jenna. Across the room you sat with ladies once called your friends, seething with anger. beside you was a goblet of water you wished to pour right over Cerilla's delicate curls. Would it not just be the most delightful thing if her pride was humbled. Humbled she might be as of late. Ever since the incident in Ellyn's bathing room Cerilla and her company had avoided you. Wistfully you dreamed of doing it again to any one of them.

At some point you decided to depart and begged Alicent's pardon. She did not seem to mind your sudden departure. Down the cold hallway you advanced, alone. Or so you thought. Shortly after you left the quiet stuffy room behind the door opened once more. Two of Cerilla's friends had come out, Erald Swann and Mara Florent. Unfortunately you were somewhat well acquainted with Erald Swann, a self important youth who took great pleasure in tormenting you. Even after two years you still remembered him requesting your "services" in front of everyone. The way he looked at you made your blood curdle. The girl next to him you did not know very well. She was in Cerilla's group of friends but she and you rarely interacted. 'What do you want?' Making no attempt to be friendly you haughtily eyed the pair. 'Where might you be off to, my dear?' You wanted to spit right into Erald's face. Who in the Seven Hells did he think he was?! Coldly you sneered. 'I do not have to answer to you, Swann.' You turned but he seized you by the wrist. Having been completely unprepared for this you stumbled. The girl gasped and stepped back. All three of you must have been louder than realized because several ladies came out. 'What is this?' Catrina narrowed her eyes on Erald's hand. Yanking it away you spat; 'He attacked me.' Erald look affronted. 'I did no such thing.' He protested. Catrina did not look convinced. Mara looked like a deer in headlights, slowly backing away. It was then that you noticed her face. Pale, slightly cleft chin, long neck, a beauty mark by her mouth. Your hand tightened into a fist. 'Pardon me, I wish to be left alone.' Her features branded itself into your mind long after you left.

'I need you to check to hall, someone was following me.' Elinor had been dismissed after preparing you for bed. Once you were sure she way away the time had come. The guard, Cerilla's catspaw, was waiting by the door as usual. Making sure the black cloak was by you bed ready, you opened the door. He looked surprised, to your satisfaction. You had a plan to catch this girl. First, you would ask the guard to check on the "disturbance". When you made the order he looked around and then obeyed. Once down the hall you closed the door and crept down the hall. Hiding behind a statue you waited. It did not take very long for the guard to return. Undoubtedly he did not look for very long, his job was not to protect you. Hiding in you dark cloak at night in shadow no one could see you. The statue hid you quite well. For some time you waited. A cold draft came through the windows, moonlights cool gaze providing the hall with light. In great anticipation you waited for the girl.

Just when you thought this was all a foolish idea you saw someone walk down the hall. The familiar figure came down the hall in great haste. She did not see you in her hurry. With a rye smile you imagined what misfortune she might come across. For a while there was nothing, and then the girl came back. She was down the hall when you stood up. This would be risky. Anyone who saw you come down the hall might be suspicious. Better to show your face as a member of the court than be mistaken for an intruder. Perhaps it was merely in the case you suspected anything. Once she had turned the corner you followed in haste. Carefully you looked around the corner so that no guards could see you. Her cloak disappeared into a room just down the hallway , her guard stepping aside. Convenient for her. Convenient for you. heading back to your spot behind the statue you returned for a long night. This part was the least certain and relied on a fair amount of luck. Only if Elinor came alone would this work.

The night passes quickly for one with vengeful imaginings in their mind. Physical distress meant nothing compared to your emotional turmoil. Nighttime waned as the sun cast its rays and banished the moon. Back on alert you watched every passer by. Servants were starting to prepare the castle for another day. Anxiety started to set in as the minutes suddenly became long. Nervously your hands rung together, teeth biting into your lower lip. This only dissipated when Elinor finally came with a bowl of hot water in her hand. Luck was on your side as no one else was there. Elinor nearly dropped the down when you emerged. Pressing a finger to your lips you hurried to her. 'I went for a walk but the guard doesn't know. Elinor I wasn't feeling well last night and had to walk.' Playing on her sympathy had worked. Elinor had to guard look for something and then hurried you inside. When the guard came back you were getting dresses. He was none the wiser to last nights events.

This alcove had been a fixture in your life for fourteen years. many days you had hid here with Aemond away from prying eyes. It had been your sanctuary. What a fool you had been. Hiding out here had only given your enemies fuel with which to bring you down. Where one this was a place of freedom, it now represented a tomb. You had not wanted to return to this painful reminder of a girl buried. The very idea had nearly made you sick, but there was another traitorous, disloyal part of you that clung to whatever vestige it held in your heart. Going alone you went down the worn steps and could smell wet rock and water. Somehow the stench of Kings Landing did not extend to this place. You could not tell if that was a good thing or not. Warily you stepped into the alcove, which was empty of all life save yourself. Did Aemond still come? Or had he written this place off as an embarrassing part of his past? You were utterly convinced it was the latter. Taking off the cloak you allowed the cold to wash over you. Closing your eyes you could imagine that moment time went back. Impenetrable darkness had nearly chocked you in that moment. That cold and dark had been like nothing else you had ever felt. How lonely it had been. Taking off your shoes you slipped off stockings. The water nearly froze your toes. Wearily your elbows rested on shaking knees. With a bend head you shielded your eyes from the world. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, carried into the water and washed away.

When you next met Jaecerion it was on his account, not yours. You had just been coming back from the alcove when he walked right up to you. 'Y/n are you well?' Giving him a plastered smile you lied and said yes. He did not buy it in the least. 'Please Y/n. You have nothing to hide.' Jaecerion looked down to see shoeless feet. Bending down he took a foot in his hand, fingertips reverently touching the arches. Looking up at you with those bright purple eyes he gazed upon cold lips. Then his eyes met yours. 'Have you been thinking about Aemond again.' It was not even a question. Immediately you took the slightly trembling foot out of his grasp. 'Just walking. I better head back ,your mother will be requesting my attendance.' You did not even wait for his reply.

Jaecerion Pov

He watched Y/n go, her feet still bare. Seeing her to disheveled and open made desire stir in his chest. His mother told him it was sin to lust after a woman like this. And be like Aemond? Hah! If he'd been Aemond he would have taken Y/n already, and made her his whether crown and faith consented or no. He knew she had been his the day they were hiding from an irate septa. He had been fifteen, she a year younger. He had played a prank which ended up with Septa Clair nearly ending up on her behind. He'd ran before she could catch him. Aemond, Flora and Y/n had not been far away, and drawn to the noise. They nearly ran into each other and Jaecerion had quickly told them his tale. Aemond, naturally, had chastised him. Y/n and Flora erupted into giggles. Aemond had declared he would stay behind and speak to the septa. Y/n, Flora and himself, who were actually children and not old men trapped in a fifteen year old's body, ran. At some point they had been separated from Flora and were in the library. They had found refuge behind a bookshelf and were giggling away. Y/n was leaning against her. He could smell the warmth of sunlight in her hair. Y/n's arm was wrapped around his waist and she snuggled into his side.

Jaecerion had been the third born, looked over son. Visery's was always too busy with a daughter who was hardly around and spent her time whoring around. Alicent, while slightly more involved, hardly had time for time. As a child Jaecerion was not clever as Aemond, not the heir like Aegon, not a girl like Helaena. He felt that Daeron had been the luckiest, being spirited away to Old Town. Quickly Jaecerion realized he mattered very little to this family. Jaecerion was merely another son for his grandfather to use in his quest for power. He might as well be another non entity to this foul house. The first time Jaecerion met Y/n he hardly cared. Just another high born child taken in to be a companion, no true friendship there. For a while the two hardly interacted. She was always with Aemond or Helaena. Then the spawn of Rhaenyra left and Jaecerion was suddenly forced to endure his brother Aemond. Y/n tried to engage Jaecerion in conversation, which at the time he found profoundly annoying. There was no great moment where Jaecerion fell in love with Y/n. He could not figure out the day or hour in which it happened. Only that one day he realized she was very dear to him.

'If you want to be as good as Aemond you will have to study harder.' Twelve year old Jaecerion frowned over the old pages dating back to Aegon the Conqueror's reign. Everything felt so confusing, the words seemed to fuzz together into an incoherent mess. Aemond had been allowed to leave the schoolroom after giving another flawless example of his academic achievements. Despite being the same age Jaecerion was nowhere near Aemond's abilities. It seemed loosing an eye had hardened his brother. His teacher had been frustrated and his mother given a lecture. It seemed no one was willing to help. He wanted to be good, for them to be proud of him, to be the best. Only no one was on his side. By complete coincidence Y/n had been walking by when she saw Jaecerion near tears hovering over the pages. Noticing his distress you walked into the schoolroom. 'Jaecerion?' He was too upset to even be embarrassed. 'Where is everyone?' Y/n looked around at the otherwise empty schoolroom. 'It's this stupid book.' Jaecerion was ready to tear the pages out, regardless of their age and significance. 'Why don't I help?' Skeptically Jaecerion looked at her. 'How?' She pulled up a chair and picked up a piece of parchment. 'Here. Let me help you.' From that day onwards Y/n would sit with Jaecerion in the schoolroom.

Mara Florents' wails echoed through the halls. Surrounded by her ladies she wept. Everyone on that floor could smell the smoke from last nights fire. The entirety of Mara's room had been destroyed. Late last night a candle must have been knocked over while Talia was out. Every dress, book and cherished family heirloom was destroyed beyond recognition. everyone was so focused on Talia that none noticed the absence of one person. A floor above Y/n sat on the window ledge listening to her cries. It carried on the wind and her heart had never been lighter. The match in her hand, blackened by fire, fell from fingertips and onto the ground far bellow.

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