#going from their side to stand beside jace and luke

[backjustforberena]

VELARYON ENTRANCES in 1x05 “We Light The Way” & 1x10 “The Black Queen”.

[seaheaded]

over and over and over again

jacaerys x fem reader

part 1 | part 2 soon!

modern au

synopsis: small moments that drive jacaerys to insanity and confusion because his feelings for his best friend are slowly turning into something less platonic ever day.

3K words

warning for both parts: cursing, typical friends to lovers pining but it's a soft story, the targaryens don't hate or want to kill each other in this they're just a big family

note: this is my first fanfic. english is not my first language, so if you have corrections or constructive criticism it's all good but don't be rude. i hope you enjoy it!

December 15, 2022.

“Oh, look at you!”

Jacaerys lowered the forearm that covered his face to watch her enter his bedroom, squinting. Even with the only illumination in the room being the grey light of the cold afternoon, he felt like it was too bright.

The smirk on her face, stretching to a big grin, provoked him to roll his eyes involuntarily as she removed her scarf and sat beside him on the bed.

“I was astonished when I heard your voice on the phone,” She said with sarcasm dripping from her words.

“Well, don't sound too worried,” He bit back, swallowing the pain that was to even utter the phrase, and covered his eyes again.

Jacaerys never got sick. His father used to say that all the ability to be ill was passed to Lucerys because the weather changes frequently got the worst of him. That was, of course, until the world decided to give him a break this year and toss all that pain on Jacaerys’ face.

Hence the boy at the threshold of his door, with his arms crossed and a familiar mischievous expression on his face.

“Joffrey said he sounds like that little rat from Zootopia now,” Lucerys said, and it made his best friend laugh out loud. “But I think he sounds like a—.”

“Get out!” Jacaerys yelled (tried) and weakly threw a pillow at him.

The item dropped at the feet of the younger brother, who chuckled with a shrug.

The last thing he needed right now was Lucerys' antics. Especially with her here. Jacaerys didn't want to sound like a possessive best friend, but since the family has gotten used to her presence, it was harder to spend time alone without an interruption. Everyone needed to say hi, his baby brothers needed to hug her and so on.

Noticing his mood, she got up from her seat and lifted her hands.

“Okay, okay. No fights. You're too sick for that,” She walked to the door. “I’ll see you later, okay, Luke?”

Lucerys, ever so compliant when it came to her, nodded and walked out after checking his older brother again with a glance, and she closed the door.

Jacaerys snorted and turned on his side under the duvet. His body ached from head to toe, and the fever brought out of him the oddest of tempers — it was better than yesterday, according to his mother, but if you asked him, he believed he was going to burst from discomfort at any moment.

Well, the good part was that his best friend was here. But he didn't want her to stand there and laugh at him with his brother.

Would it be silly to ask her to caress his hair instead?

Jacaerys twisted his face at his own thoughts.

“When you're done finding my pain amusing, hand me back that pillow so I can suffocate myself with it,” He said.

Her hand took his and placed the pillow under his arm, and she kneeled beside the bed, resting her chin on her forearm.

“If you try to suffocate yourself, we’ll have to cause a big scene by yanking you away from all the pillows in the house and into an ambulance like a maniac, and it's too cozy in here for that... Jace, are you listening?”

As she spoke, his fingers found a piece of her hair that fell over her arm. He loved her hair, and was constantly unable to refrain himself from playing with it.

“Your hair is so long now.”

She giggled and his entire body shivered.

He was too feverish.

A moment passed when she just let him sniffle and get comfortable again, then her voice came back more delicate.

“I was worried when you texted me,” She told him. “I jumped when you sent me that audio because your voice never sounded like that before.”

Jacaerys scanned her face with curiosity.

She did that sometimes, reminded him that she honestly cared about him after a tease, and recently it had become more frequent, which caused him to wonder why she did it at all.

There was something out of place because he knew she was kind. The light in her eyes alone was enough to convince him of it any day.

He smirked. “You like me too much, it's a bit embarrassing.”

“You wish.”

The wind howled outside, and Jacaerys hugged his pillow tighter with another groan of distress as he saw the branches of the trees in the yard moving around.

“This sucks,” He complained. “I didn't tell them, but I couldn't even sleep last night. My body feels all weird— Don't coo at me! Mom has done that already. Multiple times.”

She rolled her eyes, but Jacaerys could see that she was distracted, shrinking herself beside the bed like there was something on her mind.

“What is it?” He asked. “I can see the gears turning in your head.”

“Hm..." She shrugged. "I brought you something.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“The lady courts me? Taking advantage of my vulnerable state?"

“Funny," She retorted. "I was just hoping it would make you feel better, but now I think I should’ve brought you soup instead of that, pour it all over your head and leave.”

He ignored her culinary threat and supported his weight on his forearms to get closer to her.

“Early Christmas present?”

She nodded.

“It's mine and Helaena’s.”

“So it's made of clay.”

She and his aunt had worked at a ceramics shop since the summer of last year. It had been a famous spot in town from its opening, and the rest of the family was now accustomed to randomly receiving dishes and trinkets of clay from Helaena because of it. Rhaenyra even had to tell her that it was okay to not give her one at every family gathering because there was no space for more plates and mugs anymore. “But they are all beautiful! You are very talented.” She reassured her.

He caught her hand with both of his before she could take the present.

“Your hands are cold again,” He whispered, running his thumbs over her knuckles. “I’m gonna buy you gloves, I swear.”

On their first year of friendship, Jacaerys had found out that, like Lucerys, her hands could almost hurt from how cold they got during winter, and he had made an habit to check them whenever she came over during the colder months of the year.

She pulled her hand back quickly with a small chuckle and cleared her throat.

“Why are you acting like a newborn grabbing me like that? And I have gloves already.”

“So you're purposely walking around with icicles for fingers?”

“They're in my bag, Jace. After the thirty-fourth time you told me to wear them, I decided to carry them around.”

He hummed, satisfied.

“Where is that present then?”

April 9, 2023

Jacaerys stared at the dragon on his bedside table.

The small clay sculpture had olive green scales and orange membranes, and his name was Vermax.

It had been months, but he saw the dragon every time he went to bed, and the only reason he couldn't keep it locked in the drawer was the same reason why it was so distracting.

He knew he should stop thinking about her, but whenever he looked at the dragon, all that came to his mind was the memory of that December afternoon, when he was ill and ready to combust when she gave him the sculpture.

“I know it's a family thing, so I got this for you. I thought, I don't know, that I could bring him to life— well, sort of. Helaena helped, of course.”

The dragon, Vermax, was indeed a part of a peculiar family thing.

The first time Jacaerys and Lucerys had to stay at their grandfather Viserys’ house, Lucerys wouldn't stop whining about wanting his mom back. Jacaerys was not much older than him, but he wasn't bothered by it the same way since Rhaenyra had told him to be good and obey Viserys and Alicent. Still, because of Lucerys, Viserys started to tell stories to entertain the brothers. Stories about dragons.

“The largest was Balerion, the Black Dread, and after him came Vhagar!”

It was clear to Viserys how much they liked to hear about the creatures, so he kept creating more stories about the Targaryens and Old Valyria, where their ancestors came from, every time they went there. The old man didn't mind, especially after his children joined them with curiosity.

And because of said curiosity and childish imagination, during a family gathering, the story telling stirred chaos. The kids, except Helaena and their cousin Rhaena, fought to see who would get to ride Balerion because he was the largest dragon. Aegon said it would be him because was the oldest, but Baela reminded him that it was Rhaenyra, not him, and Aemond said that none of that meant anything because the dragon chose its rider.

They argued until Harwin stepped in and said that the dragon belonged to Viserys and their grandfather agreed, just to make them stop. However, Aemond quickly called dibs on Vhagar, which made everyone mad again — little Lucerys even slapped him for it — and Harwin couldn't fix that problem with simple talk this time. Aemond and Lucerys had to be sat at opposite ends of the table, and the only reason they didn't fight anymore that day was that Helaena started to name new dragons with the help of her father, and the rest of the bunch was invested once again.

But it didn't stop after that. The dragons made their mark in the children's minds, and what followed were birthday parties with dragon themes, pyjama sets that Viserys designed for everyone on Christmas (including the adults, to Daemon's horror), illustrations, embroideries by Alicent and Helaena and, of course, the infamous Zaldrizes Files, aka loads of pages about the history of dragons, physical descriptions and information about their riders. Every kid had a copy.

So, when she stepped into his life, Jacaerys knew the dragons would be a topic of conversation at some point in time. He just didn't expect her to care. He thought that perhaps she would be a little amused, laugh, and brush it off. However, in the first family vacation she was invited to, only a few months after they became close friends, the “kids” table loudly discussed dragons for an hour straight.

Now, there it was. Vermax, his dragon, on his bedside table. Because she cared.

Jacaerys sighed, unamused at his foolishness.

He could not tell when the change occurred. It took him a few daydreams while listening to songs to acknowledge that there was something wrong. The more he tried not to, the more these thoughts of her became detailed, straying from the simplicity of her presence, until that too became significant.

When she passed him something, all he could notice was her touch, and when she enjoyed something, it made him giddy by extension.

Jacaerys wasn't stupid — an idiot at times, but not stupid — he knew that closing his eyes at night and wanting her beside him wasn't the most platonic of ideas.

He rested his head in his hands, thinking back to the earlier events of the day.

They had agreed on a movie and lunch in the afternoon, and it was going well.

She arrived at the house, thankfully empty because the rest of his brothers and parents had gone out together, and they had decided on what to eat and watch.

But she had to see the sculpture on his bedside table, and smile like that, and remember and care all over again.

"What was that thing you guys said so they would breathe fire? Dracarys?"

Jacaerys froze with the laptop on his lap. Never in his life had he heard her say that, and for some reason, he wanted to hear it again.

It was humiliating. Apparently, someone speaking High Valyrian was attractive to him now.

Was he going insane?

"Yeah! Yeah, we—" He cleared his throat. "We had a list of commands and stuff."

"Hm," She put Vermax back in his place and joined him on the twin bed. "I think dracarys is the best."

Jacaerys gulped.

"Oh, my Gods, you fucking idiot," he said to himself, remembering it all.

He had to let go of at some point, and it would begin today.

His phone rang, and the sight of her photo on the notification made something inside of him turn.

Obviously, he wasn't in for a very good start.

July 15, 2023

i unlocked the door so you don't have to ring the doorbell

but lock it after you get in bc i’m scared of murderers or tourists getting in

Jacaerys read her messages as he went up the stairs of the small building, carrying a paper bag with two pastries from her favorite bakery and breathing heavily after all the running around in the last fifteen minutes.

When he opened the door, he stopped in his tracks.

“They took the fucking sofa?” He thought out loud.

What he knew about her roommates was that they were both assholes and extremely invested in each other for a while — she told him that one time she had to sleep with headphones on because it was too much — but he didn't expect them to be selfish to this point.

Apparently, the couple had recently planned to move out to a bigger apartment, leaving her alone in this one. That alone would not be an issue, but It was planned fast, without any notification until that week's monday, which shocked Jacaerys and even more Rhaenyra.

Oh, the woman was furious to the point you could imagine cartoonish smoke coming out of her nostrils. Right after finding out that they did it all without helping her to adjust to the change, she did an advertisement online for interviews for new roommates and said she would pay for everything she needed until she found two people who weren't pieces of shit to live with. Her own words.

“Jace?”

He locked the door and went to her bedroom, where the voice came from.

She was seated, or rather shrunk, on the armchair close to her window, with a blanket wrapped around her and the portable fan turned on.

He tossed the bag on her bed and rushed towards her, kneeling and placing a piece of hair behind her ear to see her face better. She seemed hurt. Her cheeks were red, and Jacaerys knew the blanket was too much for mid-July but didn't mention it.

“I noticed they moved,” His voice was quiet. “Are you okay?”

Her lower lip trembled, and she hid her face on her knees.

“I feel like a little kid.”

She hiccuped, and Jacaerys’ pulse in his ears was the only thing guaranteeing him that his heart wasn't breaking at the sight.

There was only one other time when she behaved like this, and it was the day he found out that she was terrified of her plans for independence going wrong and crumbling down. Unlike him, she had moved to the large city by herself three years ago — looking back, it feels like a lifetime — and she had no family nearby.

He called her name.

“You're not acting like a little kid. Something bad happened and it wasn't your fault.”

“But it's my fault that I’m here crying like a loser, isn't it? I don't know what to do. They took almost everything! They took the sofa and they didn't even buy it!”

“I could give you—.”

“No,” She cut him, lifting her head. “You're not gonna do more of your rich guy charity on me.”

“What?! It's not charity, I just want to help you.”

“You helped plenty, already! I think your entire family hugged me or tapped my shoulder at some point this week. Did you know Aemond sent me some weird emojis that I think indicated he could commit some crimes if needed? With a black heart on the side.”

“He has your number?” He asked quickly.

"That's your question?”

Jacaerys clicked his tongue and shook his head.

He knew her. And he knew that if she was in her room, crying and feeling this way, it was because she was finally letting it all out. And she wanted him there for her, therefore it meant even more.

Her teary eyes only looked back at him when he moved his hands to her forearms, trying to remove the blanket.

“What are you doing?”

“It's too hot,” He explained.

“So what?” She tightened the blanket around herself.

He sighed and rested his hands on her knees.

“Well, I want to hug you. So, if you could please remove this boiling fabric that I can see it's making you sweat—”

“Those are tears.”

He closed his mouth and gave her a blank stare.

She avoided it, but after a sniffle and a deep breath, she unclenched her fists and came out of her shrinking position, hugging Jacaerys as he kneeled between her now separated legs.

He closed his eyes, breathing in and letting his hands roam to remove the blanket before settling one on the mid of her waist, enveloping her torso with his arm, and another at the conjuncture of her neck and shoulder.

She smelled like her favorite perfume for summer — a mix of pink mango with coconut water that she ordered from another country.

He wanted to kiss her shoulder. But more than that, he needed to see her smile again.

“I’m sorry, Jace.”

He opened his eyes abruptly and separated himself from her, resting a hand on her cheek, incredulous.

“Don't apologise. Are you serious?”

She shrugged, leaning against his hand.

“I mean, I texted you in the middle of the afternoon and interrupted you—”

“I was basically my mom’s secretary today.”

“Well, I made you come all this way—”

“You mean ten minutes driving?" He licked his lips. "Look, I wouldn't come here if I didn't want to. And I did. You called me, so I came.”

“But—”

“No, no. Listen.”

He lifted her head so she would look at him, and the sunlight hit her eyes in a way he had never seen before.

She was too close.

Another stupid thought came to him. How could he show her that she was a force of nature that he couldn't resist?

No, ignore that.

“I know how you feel about asking for help" He said. "Whenever you ask me for anything, you think I am wasting my time with you, which is ridiculous.”

“Jace.”

“I’m serious. I am well aware that my time is mine, that I don't owe you any of it and all that. But you have to understand that I’ll always care and do everything I can to help you because I want to. You... You're my friend."

She didn't answer, but didn't look away either.

Jacaerys felt her thumb caressing his jaw.

“I was going to say I feel unlike myself when I cry in front of you like this, but I realised I'm just scared of you running away,” She whispered, breath hitting his chin. “I don't like being high maintenance.”

Jacaerys scoffed at the revelation.

“I'm not running. Besides, you and I both know you're too smart to believe some bullock catchphrase like that. I'm pretty sure you could start giving me a psychology lesson about it if I just pushed you a little more.”

Her nose scrunched against his with a close mouthed smile. He felt victorious.

“You're not wrong. I’m just feeling miserable. I don't have a sofa," She laughed. "Or roommates, or a way to buy everything now… But I still think I’m doing too much crying.”

“It all happened too fast," He whispered. "Cry as much as you want.”

“Will I be okay after, though?”

He wouldn't let her be any less than that.

It went unsaid, but he nodded.

Her arms found their way around his neck again, and her head slid back to his shoulder.

The sound of her relieved breath mingled with the laughter outside the building, which wasn't surprising given summer in King's Landing meant tourists and noise everywhere, all the time.

“Did you know there were some girls out there taking pictures of the clothesline between the buildings full of stuff when I came in?” He told her and she groaned.

“Oh, this happens all the time. Those aesthetic bitches— Oh, I shouldn't say that— Stop laughing, Jacaerys!”

She slapped his back and Jacaerys laughed even louder, squeezing her in his arms with a strange, newfound joy in her ease.

He could do this. Love her like that without crossing the line. It felt like it was enough.

this will probably be a 2 parts story only and then i might add miscellaneous moments to it. part 2 will be the reader's side of the story

[spicy30]

Modernness of 1400s 002

Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader

Extra: The reader is noted to be bilingual (Spanish speaking) and is familiar with the majority of Latin-based languages, No use of Y/N

cw: Misinformation, cannon-typical violence, drinking

Rating: 13+

Not proofread

WC: 5.4k

Walking down the long corridors of the Jacaerys watched you from the corner of his eye. His eyes wandered to your clothing and he felt his face heat up. It was quite revealing. Your top did not cover your arms and the sides of it well, it exposed even more skin. Your cleavage was visible from any angle. You wore what he assumed was some kind of bracelet, though there was a black square on it. Then on your fingers you were silver and gold rings. If you had access to this kind of jewelry despite being common born, then perhaps you were not. You also seemed to be unusually educated for a woman despite your manner of speaking. Along with that your neck sported two necklaces, one gold, another silver and your ears were decorated with what he assumed were pearl earrings. No one of common born status should be able to afford the jewelry you had. 

You turned your head to look at the young man who looked at you. You watched him turn away swifting avoid your eyes. You murmured an “okay” before jogging to the front of his mother.

As you went forward, your scent hit his nose and he found himself leaning forward every so slightly trying to inhale more. It was sweet, but not like the perfumes that were used. This smelled…he couldn’t describe but Jacaerys desperately wanted to smell it more. As he leaned forward he nearly tripped. He heard laughter beside him. Luke.

They both looked at each other before looking ahead at your backside. It was very pronounced with the trousers you wore. They were a gray color, tight around your thighs and bottom showing your figure, then loose towards the bottom. Both boys stared before looking back at each other. Luke grinned and pushed Jacaerys. He grinned back and pushed Luke. 

Standing next to the Princess she eyed you from the side of her eye. 

“Ehm, Princess? Where are we going?” You asked, walking next to her.

“To my father, see if you can heal him.” As she spoke you held your breath. It was clear they hadn’t yet discovered oral hygiene. 

“If I can’t?” You were afraid of the answer to come. You just wanted to go home and let your family know you were okay. The bottom line was, you needed to get home. The rest of your life was ahead of you and you would rather not spend it here. Especially if they didn’t have modern medicine. Sure you had romanticized the pretty dresses of medieval times but that didn’t mean you wanted to live here. Proper hygiene, modern medicine, the internet. You’d never survive without any of it. 

“You die.” Daemon spoke. Your eyes widened and you stopped. 

“What!? Now hold on!” You stopped dead in your tracks. “Who are you to make the decision? I have plenty of other things to offer!” 

“He is my husband. Prince Daemon.” The Princess answered. 

You sighed in defeat. “Listen, there is so much more to me than just medicine. Besides, I am not a pre-med student. My knowledge is limited. I’m much better in biology and math, and…and english. I can give explanations half the time, but I don’t know if I can cure him. You guys don’t even have antibiotics, or even vaccines!” As they listen to you speak words that were unknown to them Daemon grabbed your face with his hand to shut you up.

“You can either do what you are told, or your head comes off.” He spoke and he watched your eyes widen in fear. Daemon watched you look around as if pleading for someone to save you. There was no one who would help you. Finally you gave a silent nod telling him that you would do your best. 

“Jace, Luke, go to your chambers.” Rhaenrya spoke as they reached her father’s room. A small protest was made but eventually the boys left, leaving you alone with Daemon and Rhaenrya. 

Stepping into the room you gagged. It smelled like rot in there and immediately you stepped out holding your arm to your nose. “Oh goodness!” Breathing in your own scent you looked to your right to see the woman in green walking towards you. You nodded your head slightly in acknowledgment and she did the same with a questioning look. She stepped inside and finally took in one final breath you stepped inside. It was a grim sight. Helpers in white dabbed the sickly King with water. For a moment you wonder if they did have clean water. 

Stepping closer and looking at the disgusting sight, you find yourself wishing that you had worn something more covering. You’d rather jump into the cold water again than touch whatever it is the King had. There were like lesions all over. You felt your hair stand on end and you gave a shiver. There was a reason you never went into the medical field. Besides of course the amount of medicines you had to memorize, things like this, you would never be able to do. 

It reminded you of a certain movie you watched. What was he called? The leopard king? No, it caused similar injuries. “Leprosy!” You spoke in disgust and you backed away. “Damn damn!” You shook your hands as if trying to get it away from you. You didn’t know how to cure leprosy! Even if you did, the material they have isn't good enough. If anything, that man was on his deathbed. You guess it would be in a couple weeks till he succumbed, maybe earlier. People like this only tend to hang on when they have something they want to accomplish. 

You sighed. Turning to the woman in the green dress, Daemon and the Princess you shook your head. 

“Uh…can I talk to immediate family members?” You meant the Princess. They all nodded and all three walked out. “Uh only relatives.” You spoke again. 

“He is my brother.” “I am his wife.” Both came out simultaneously from Daemon and the woman in green, or in other words the Queen. You made a face. She seemed far too young for the old man, and if Daemon was his brother, wouldn’t that mean he’s the Princess's uncle? 

“Ehm, I thought she was your wife?” You asked, looking towards Daemon. 

“She is.” It was a simple response but you could not wrap your head around it.

“And you two are married?” Your brow lifted in confusion. Daemon nodded and you shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose. “That cannot be good for genetics.” 

“Genetics?” The Queen spoke beside you. 

“Yes, what you pass to your children. Genotypes and phenotypes. Genotypes are the genetic make-up one has, and phenotypes are the physical features one possesses. Incest doesn’t make for the best….anyways a lesson for another day.” You waved it off before you ushered them outside. 

Alicent looked at you and the gears started to turn in her head. If this ‘genetics’ was accurate…

“Do you really mean to kill me if I can’t cure him?” Alicent heard you ask quietly and she narrowed her eyes towards Daemon as he gave a knowing look.

“Well then I suggest you start preparing two caskets.” Your tone was grim. You looked towards Rhaenyra. “You are the eldest?” You asked her and she nodded. “Well, start mourning your losses, you will be Queen soon. There is nothing I can do for him, perhaps disinfect his wounds with alcohol but that's the best I can offer. Along with that…” You kept your eyes on Daemon watching his every move. “I suggest you either boil anything he has touched or burn it. Leprosy is contagious. Put a mask on him, it assures that germs don't spread. If you have any cuts on you, or your skin is broken, don’t touch him.” You spoke in low-tones. Of course you didn’t really plan to die, but you had to find a way to get out of here and fast. 

“Then you have come to the end of your use.” Daemon's hand curled around the hilt of his sword. You turned your gaze to the hallways, but Daemon was blocking the path. Looking down towards as he began to pull out his sword. Before you could register what you were doing your body acted on instinct and pushed his sword back into its sheath. You pushed the entirety of your body weight to combat his strength. You refused to die here in a medieval hell. His other hand came to wrap around your neck. You took a hold of the hand you were pushing down and bent his thumb backwards. He yelled and backhanded you. You groaned and held your face. Licking your lip you tasted blood. As you looked up, your eyes widened in fear as you saw a sword lifted above you. You closed your eyes and waited for the pain.

“Hold your sword!” You heard a yell and you opened your eyes to see a hand shielding you. Then you heard a clatter of the sword he was holding and groaning, shaking his hand. “I will not have you strike her down.” The Queen spoke. “You are dismissed.” She spoke as she turned away from them to face you. 

A long pause took place as both you and Daemon glared at each other. You heard a slight murmur before he turned to walk away Rhaenyra holding his injured hand. You kept your glare on him until he disappeared from view. However, it was replaced by a hand coming to reach for your face. You flinched away. You’d rather not be touched and contract leprosy, that means you can’t even touch your lip, even as you feel a drop of blood rolling down your chin. You licked it to stop it from falling onto your shirt.

“You can’t touch me, we’re unsanitary. I have to shower…or bathe I suppose.” You spoke in a low-tone and the Queen nodded ignoring the strange wording. 

“I will call for you once you are finished. I have some things I want to discuss with you.” Alicent would need your work on genetics. If what you said was true, Alicent could not allow a bastard to be named heir to the throne, or the possibility of her children being in danger. If calling upon your knowledge is what it took, she would do so. 

The Queen dismissed you and asked for servants to prepare you a bath. You walked away with the servants and a personal guard she assigned you. As your servant led you to whatever quarters you were staying at, you admired the architecture of the castle. It was breathtaking. As you were looking around you caught sight of the man with the eye-patch and his brother with a bottle in his hand. You looked at them with a blank face before looking away, though you did not miss their lingering eyes, more specifically, their lingering eyes on your bloody lip. 

…

“They will use her to question Jace and Luke’s parentage.” Rhaenrya spoke as she paced while Daemon rubbed his forearm, the pain had traveled from just his thumb to the entire forearm. He had spent the better part of the walk back to the room cursing your name. “She is not from here Daemon. If she is right about my fathers death? They will take her words if she is able to discover-” She didn’t let herself finish. 

“Anyone could predict that my brother will perish soon. In any case if she does say such things, then she will meet the same fate as Vaemond. The cunt only managed to injure me because I did not think she would fight.” Daemon reasoned watching his wife look down towards his hand with a worried look. 

“Even so, if what she says is true…then we should stay in King’s Landing until then.” Rhaenrya sighed as she bent down to hold her husband’s hand to begin bandaging it.

…

You scrubbed feverishly at your arms and skin hoping it would be enough to get rid of the germs. It would really suck if you died from leprosy. It was such an ugly way to go, and this bruise on your lip was already ugly enough for you. Damn Daemon and damn every other woman beater in this castle. However, you did feel a bit better in this water and now that you have gotten your things back. You couldn't believe your luck that the suitcase that brought you down just so happened to be the one with all the sanitary items in them. When you saw your soaps and shampoos you nearly fell on your knees thanking whatever deity was out there.

However, you never did get any of your clothes back and this suitcase only had limited options, it only really had one or two outfits to wear along with some undergarments. But! Beggars can’t be choosers. 

Rinsing your hair and body you stepped out and put on a robe. Unfortunately, you did not bring a towel. You dug through your suitcase pulling out lacy underwear and a lace bralette. “Y’know when I said I wanted crazy things to happen, I didn’t mean this crazy.” You murmured as you put them on. 

As you finished clasping the final hook you heard a knock then the door opening. “Woah!” You yelled as you covered your top half. The man who held the bottle from before entered with a smile. 

“Is this what women wear where you’re from?” He looked you up and down. 

“Get out!” You urged as you covered yourself with a robe. 

“Here.” He tossed you your purse. “Mother sent me to give it to you.” He gave you one last look before smiling and walking out.

You scoffed and dropped the robe. Only then did you really grasp what you had in your hand. Your purse. You unzipped it and looked through it. You felt a familiar rectangular shape and you smiled and pulled it out. 

“Thank you! To whatever god there is or whoever you are! Thank you!” You shook your phone happily. “And you!” You spoke to your phone as you powered it on. “Thank you for being water-proof!” As you powered it on, it was at seventy-five percent. It was good enough. You opened maps, though only the downloaded parts cap up. Cursing you saw you had no signal. You sighed and pulled your hair back in desperation. What good was a phone if you couldn’t call anyone?

You threw yourself on your bed whining. “Someone played me ultraviolence.” Just then you shot up. “Wait!” You grabbed your phone and went through the songs you downloaded before you crashed. Finding the song you giggled as you pressed play and threw yourself onto your bed as the song played. 

“This is so aesthetic.” You sighed. You felt like you could be an album cover as this song played. Here you lay on a fur bed in your lingerie in an old castle with a bruised lip. As the song came to an end you stood up and turned off your phone. It would be best to save the battery. As you hummed the tune you looked towards the dress you were supposed to wear. Your attire you suppose was a bit inappropriate for the times. However, as you lifted the dress you questioned how exactly you were going to put this on. 

So for the next two hours you spent trying to put on the dress. 

…

As Alicent sat in silence beside her father she leaned over and whispered in a servant's ear. “Summon her.” It was a quick command and Alicent watched as the servant girl left. 

“If she's right about Viserys, then it can be used to prop Aegon as king.” Otto muttered near Alicent. “Only if she can prove without a doubt that Rhaenrya’s children are bastards.” Alicent responded as she looked towards the dark hair boys who now spoke to their betrotheds. 

Alicent sat still waiting for your arrival. Though Viserys only wanted family, she figured he wouldn’t mind the small addition of you. Finally the doors opened and there you stood with a determined look and suddenly Alicent was transported back to when she first made her stance. The pressure and eyes she felt when she first wore her green dress. Now you walked with the same green dress with arguably the most important eyes on you. 

You glowed under the light, almost unnaturally so. Your features seemed enhanced, and your skin seemed impossibly smooth. An almost perfect blush coated your face and your lips shone as if they were covered in honey. Your eyelashes were long and darker than what she remembered. The mark on your lip appeared nearly healed. It was impossible. You had only been struck hours ago by Daemon Targaryen, and even if he did not put his full force into it. Alicent hated to admit it, he was still Daemon Targaryen. 

“I thought this was family only?” Daemon asked with a smirk. Alicent watched you to see how you’d react. She only saw you give a small smile while looking down then back up towards him before taking your seat next to Alicent. Alicent inhaled your scent and you smelled sweet, it also made her want to lean over and inhale you. Never had she met anyone who had smelled so good. 

“My Queen,” Alicent heard you whisper. “Thank you for the dress, I would’ve worn something of my own, but my attire isn’t exactly proper for this kind of setting.”

Alicent gave you a nod. “Of course.”

“What do I address everyone by? I know it is not their name but, what do I say?” You asked about playing with the hems of the dress. Alicent gave you a smile. “I am Queen Alicent, you address all royalty by ‘your grace’ including Prince Daemon and Princess Rheanrya. Next to you sits my father, Lord hand Otto Hightower, next to him sits my youngest; Prince Aemond,” She watched you give her a confused look.

“I would’ve thought he was the oldest.” You whisper looking towards Aemond who always seemed to be giving a stuck up smirk. 

Alicent gave a small laugh before shaking her head. “No, Aegon, the one who sits in front of you is my eldest.” She corrected as she watched Aegon lift his chalice to you and nodded. “Next to him is his wife and my second eldest Helaena.” Alicents smiled turned into a frown when she saw you look at her confused. She watched you shake your head and look over to Jacaerys. “That is Princess Rheanrya’s eldest son, Prince Jacearys Velaryon, then next to him his betrothed, Princess Baela Targeryen, and to her right his the second eldest, Prince Lucerys Velaryon, and finally Princess Rhaena.” 

“So I address everyone as ‘your grace’ then.” You whispered to her and she nodded. “Except for your father?” Once more Alicent nodded. 

A sound was heard outside and Alicent stood up and you followed right after her. Everyone watched as Viserys was brought in and his eyes zeroed in on you before giving you a small nod. Viserys called your name and you gave a curtsy, though Alicent has no idea where you learned that from. Alicent watched you as you looked to her before addressing the King properly and though she had only just taught you, a small sense of pride emerged in her chest. 

“I thank you for your suggestion to the Maesters. I feel…better as hard as it is to believe.” Viserys spoke to you, giving you a smile. You found it hard to smile back. Finally Viserys addressed his family and you sat silently playing with the rings on your fingers. 

“Prayer before we begin?” You heard Queen Alicent ask and for a moment you wondered what their religion was. As she prayed you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips. What was the mother, or the smith? It wasn’t funny but nonetheless a smile was on your lips. You looked across from you and saw Aegon pointing to his shoulders. You raised a brow unsure of what he meant. 

Once more he made the gesture with a questioning face and once you understood it, your face went hot. He was asking about your undergarments and where they were. You rolled your eyes and looked away from him and instead towards the end of the table where Jacaerys and his betrothed was. Once again, like before he was looking at you. He turned his eyes away quickly once more away from you. Then you looked over to the girl next to him. Despite the fact that Alicent had only just told you their names, you had already forgotten them. 

She looked at you with an almost questioning look. Perhaps it was the make-up. You don’t think they have ever seen modern make-up. You gave a small smile and she gave you one back. Then you looked towards the end of the table where the younger siblings of the two sat. The dark haired one looked towards you and unlike his older brother did not shy away when you met his gaze. You gave a smile and he returned it. Before you could get a better look towards the last one King Viserys spoke. 

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons Jace and Luke will marry their cousins Baela and Rheana further strengthening the relationship between the two houses—” As Viserys spoke it caused you to make an involuntary face. 

Their cousins!? That was madness to you!

Everyone heard a laugh and you controlled your facial expressions and you looked towards Aegon as he looked at you. He cleared his throat and said his apologies, though he looked at you and smiled and you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face as you both looked towards each other. 

For the rest of the speech you both smiled towards each other as if you were both making fun of the King. Whilst you smiled towards Aegon you both were blissfully unaware of the looks everyone else gave, from Aemond and Otto, to Luke and Rhaena. 

Your attention was brought away from Aegon when the King stood up. As he spoke you looked from the corner of your eye to Aegon and he looked towards you. It seemed as if you were both speaking with your eyes. Your eyes shifted from Aegon to the King throughout his speech of family. You felt out of place and Aegon was the only one who seemed to respond when you looked towards him. 

But when Viserys took off his mask your appetite quickly left as it came. You rubbed your neck looking away from the King blinking towards Aemond who met your gaze but did nothing  but look back. It was almost as awkward as each time you tried to look towards Jacaerys, only this time Aemond’s gaze did intimate you. 

You looked away from him to down at the table then back up only to find that intense gaze still you. Once more you blinked and looked down before offering a weak smile, which was not reciprocated.

Finally you watched Viserys speak and you swore you saw small specks of spit fly out. It made sense the man had a hole in his face.

However, you were NOT catching leprosy besides, this was medieval food. You doubt you were missing much.

You leaned back in your chair. This was so not like the movies. Not to mention the whole incest stuff was just a little too much for you. Yes, you knew about cousins marrying each other but uncles and nieces!? Siblings!? You shook your head. As you looked up you saw Aegon watching you then look towards you drink. Looking around you saw others looking towards you expectantly. 

“Oh, sorry.” You took a small sip from the wine and found yourself smiling just a bit. It was good, well fermented. You observed the glass, it was quite nice. You found yourself looking at yourself in the reflection the wine offered and you drank some more feeling a warmth flood your face and ears and an involuntary smile grew on your face.

A loud sound startled you and caused you to flinch slightly. You looked up to see Jacaerys. He then looked over to you and once more he looked away. You raised a brow then you turned to watch Aemond stand. Then you saw Jacaerys lift his cup. Great. Another speech. How fun.

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen eachother in years, I have fond memories of our shared youth…and as men I hope we may yet be friends and allies.” You don’t know why, but suddenly you began to giggle. 

You didn’t bother paying attention to the rest as you tried to stop the sudden laugh attack. Your shoulders shook as you held your face down and you felt eyes on you. 

You looked up to see the displeased look on Aegon’s face and Jacaerys grabbing his shoulders and you had to cover your mouth and you gave a slightly louder giggle. You breathed in deeply trying to calm yourself but the smile would not leave your face. 

“I’d like to toast Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon, it isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you. Except sometimes when he’s drunk.” Helaena spoke and though it was a sad statement you laughed and all eyes shifted to you. Helaena, the sweet thing laughed alongside you. You both laugh, grinning towards each other. 

“This wine is very good.” You giggled out. Soon the music started and you continued to drink. As the food was passed to you, you refused it. As the night progressed you watched Helaena and Jacaerys dance with each other and then your laughter suddenly died down. 

It reminded you of your own family dinners. What did your family think? You wondered when your funeral would be? It would only be logical that they assume you’re dead. In the hall where everything was bright, your face sat out of place and a sorrowful expression sat. 

“A dance my lady?” You looked up to see Aegon. 

“I don’t know how to dance the way y’all dance.” You spoke in low tones. 

“How do you dance to this music?” Aegon tried once more watching from the corner of his eye his wife and Jace dance. 

“Waltz maybe? I don’t know” You responded. 

“Teach me then.” Aegon takes your hands and pulls you from your seat. A smile from flattery comes on your face and you feel others watching as you walk past Helaena and Jace. Your face turns a shade of pink. 

“The best I have is from Cinderella.” You whisper as you take his arm and place him around your waist and you take his other hand holding it in your own as you step closer to each other. 

“I don’t know what Cinderella is, but if it means you’re this close to me, then I think I’ll like it.” Aegon teased. “So what now?” 

“Umm good question. Okay just follow my lead. Step backward with your right.” You told him looking down between the both of you. As he stepped backwards you stepped forward with your left foot. “Now backwards with your right foot.” You whispered and you followed his movements. “Okay to the left with your left foot next to your right foot.” He nodded and you followed after him. “Finally step forward with your right foot, moving it slightly in front of your left foot, those are all the moves then you just repeat.” After one or two mistakes both of you began dancing to the beat of the music avoiding Jace and Helaena. 

You smiled and giggled as you both danced. “We dance like this until the songs are over” Aegon asked as he pulled you closer to him and you shrugged. “I suppose we can spin.” You whispered and led him into dancing in a circle. You pulled his hand away from your waist and raised the hand you held to spin yourself then once more you both resumed dancing. 

“I thought you said you did not know how to dance?” He grinned and you shrugged. “Not to this music.” 

“Mayhaps you may show me your music one day.” He suggested and you both spun. 

“Perhaps.” You smiled at him. 

The room stood still as they watched you both dance, shades of dark greens spinning and seemingly gliding across the floor to the music. It was hard to look away, especially because it seemed so scandalous having a man and woman so close to each other. 

They watched as Aegon let go of your hand and lifted you up and spun you in the air before setting you down to dance once more. They all watched you both laugh as you both once more glided across the floor. However a fist hit the table abruptly stopping the music. You let go of Aegon and turned to Aemond. 

“Final tribute.” Aemond raised his glass and you looked towards Aegon confused. He shared your look. “To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them is handsome, wise…strong.” 

There was an implication, though it was one you could not understand. You looked towards Aegon who had a large smile on his face. Clearly he understood the reference. He pulled you by the hand and took his cup and grabbed your own, filling it to the brim with wine for you. 

“Aemond.” Queen Alicent warned. 

You raised your cup alongside Aegon looking towards Luke though his eyes were only on Aemond. Then you looked back towards Jace who looked like he was seething, though he stood in a funny way that made you giggle a bit. 

“Come, let us drain our cups to these three strong boys,” Aemond finished. 

“I dare you to say that again.” Jace challenged. You were thoroughly confused. 

Was the word ‘strong’ an insult here? “Prince Aegon, is strong not a compliment here?” You whispered. 

He grinned and shook his head. “It is. My nephews are just…sensitive.” He whispered back. 

“Why? T’was only a compliment. Do you not think of yourself as strong?” Aemond finished and you watched as Jace walked to him and hit him. You gasped and then you were pulled back behind Aegon as he slammed Luke’s head onto the table. 

“Stop!” You yelled towards Aegon. Aegon seemed to be around your age while Luke looked to be thirteen. You tried to pull Aegon off pushing you back. As you were pushed back, so was Jacaerys. You both collided into each other while he took the brunt of the fall. 

He helped you up and went back to charge back but you held onto him. As you held him back, it was the first time you really got to look at him. At any other time he would look away. As you looked longer you noticed that he had very pretty eyes. A nice dark brown. “Stop.” You whispered out. 

“Are you going to hide behind a woman nephew?” Aemond remarked while giving a cruel smile. 

You saw Jacarey narrows his eyes and begins to push against you. “Are you gonna hide behind your words?” You glared back towards him. 

“This does not concern you.” You turned and looked up towards Daemon. He towered over you, and he still had his sword on him, you knew you got lucky last time. You doubt you will be so fortunate next time. You saw his hand coming towards your face and instinctively you stepped back away from Jacaerys. The stinging sensation his backhand gave you came back and your lip felt like it was pulsing. He gave you a cruel smirk enjoying your fear of him and he stepped closer and you stepped back. 

You wanted to look away from him, but you feared that if you did he would cut you down. It wasn’t until you bumped into something that you looked back and saw a glimpse of long white hair. However, as fast as you looked back, you looked towards Daemon again, though you weren’t fast enough to evade the hand that grabbed the bottom of your face, squeezing it so that it made the cut on your lip open again. 

You hissed out a cry as his thumb was putting pressure over the bruise he had caused earlier. You felt hands on your shoulders pulling you back away from Daemon’s grasp. Daemon scoffed before he wiped his hands on his pants, showing some of your foundation. You could only assume that some of your bruises were showing. 

“You look good green.” It was all Daemon said before you were ushered out by Aemond by command of Alicent. 

Note: Every time I try to go team black I somehow end up writing for green. Also, I think I would really die if I had no music.

Previous I Next I Masterlist

To be added on Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

[novaursa]

The Queen's Command (2/2)

Requests are closed!

- Summary: You came to Westeros to offer your services to the crown as a healer. And once the Dance starts and both Queens start to curry for your favor, you are forced to change the already written destiny of this war forever.

- Paring: Rhaenyra Targaryen/male!reader/Alicent Hightower

- Note: Be aware of the time jumps.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: 1/2

- Tag(s): @subjectac7 @isansstuff @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @literaturedog

The night air on Driftmark was suffocating, the aftermath of Laena Velaryon’s funeral long overshadowed by the violence that had erupted between the children. The stone halls of High Tide, once somber in mourning, were now buzzing with fear and anger as lords, ladies, and guards gathered in the Great Hall, surrounding the injured prince.

Aemond sat on a stone bench, blood streaming down his face from the horrific wound where his eye had once been. Grand Maester Mellos hovered over him, his hands shaking slightly as he prepared his tools, the sharp tang of herbs and ointments filling the air. Viserys stood pale and helpless, watching over the scene with a deep sadness, while Alicent paced beside him, her face a mask of fury and concern.

Corlys Velaryon and Rhaenys had arrived moments earlier, alerted by the chaos. The moment they saw Aemond’s bloodied face and the children huddled in fear and anger, it was clear the gravity of the situation had far outstripped any funeral rites. Corlys’s voice cut through the din as he barked orders to his guards.

“Go fetch him,” Corlys commanded, his tone grim. “Bring our healer.”

Rhaenys glanced at her husband, surprised but trusting. Corlys’ employment of a mysterious healer had always been a point of contention with Mellos and the other maesters, but he had proven his worth time and again. Now, with Aemond’s life hanging in the balance, Corlys wasn’t taking any chances.

The Kingsguard stood in a tense line, swords at their sides, unsure of what might happen next. The children—Jacaerys, Lucerys, Baela, and Rhaena—were still being held in check by guards, their faces pale as they watched the horror they had played a part in unfold. Luke’s face was stricken, his small hands covered in blood, shaking from the realization of what he had done.

Mellos looked up as he applied pressure to Aemond’s wound, muttering to the king, “We need to act quickly. The wound must be cleaned, stitched, or infection will take hold. I fear the eye is lost, Your Grace. There is nothing more I can do.”

Alicent, standing beside Viserys, her hands clutching each other tightly, looked frantic. Her son was maimed, his face forever changed. Her gaze flickered to Luke and Jace with seething anger. Before she could respond, the doors to the hall swung open, and the guards returned with you in tow.

You strode in, wearing your Asshaii robes, the dark fabrics catching the torchlight as you approached. The moment you entered, the room fell into a deep silence. All eyes were on you, and the tension ratcheted up even further. Your face was concealed behind your mask, as it always was, and your appearance—foreign, strange—made you stand out even more starkly against the richly-dressed nobles of Westeros.

Mellos straightened immediately, bristling at your arrival. “This is not necessary, Lord Corlys,” he said sharply, his eyes narrowing. “I have the situation under control. The boy’s eye must be treated properly, cleaned, and stitched before infection sets in. This man’s methods are… unorthodox.”

Corlys ignored the Maester’s protests, his voice calm but firm. “I trust my healer’s skills, Grand Maester. He has proven himself more than capable of saving lives where others have failed.”

You approached Aemond, your eyes flicking briefly over the prince’s injured face, assessing the situation with the calm detachment of a healer who had seen far worse wounds. Mellos, still standing over the boy, looked at you with open disdain, stepping in your way as you neared.

“The eye is gone,” Mellos said flatly. “There is no saving it. The boy will need to be stitched up before it festers. That is the only way.”

You did not respond to him, instead turning your attention fully to Aemond. Your voice was quiet but clear, laced with your distinct accent as you addressed the room. “The eye is not yet lost. I can save it, but only if I act now.”

A wave of surprise rippled through the room. Even Aemond, despite his pain, blinked up at you in disbelief. His mother, Alicent, took a step forward, her voice sharp with hope. “You can save his eye?”

Mellos scoffed, turning to Viserys and Otto, his voice rising with indignation. “This is madness. His methods defy the very will of the Seven! The wound is too severe—if we do not treat it in the traditional way, the boy could lose more than just his eye. Infection, fever—it could kill him!”

You stood firm, your hands steady and prepared. “I have seen injuries like this before. The methods I use are from Asshai, far beyond the knowledge of Westerosi maesters. I can save the eye if you allow me to work.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the King or the Hand to respond. Viserys looked torn, his eyes filled with uncertainty, but before he could speak, Alicent stepped forward. Her voice cut through the silence, firm and unyielding. “Let him do it.”

Otto Hightower stiffened immediately, his gaze darting toward his daughter. “Alicent—”

“No,” she interrupted, her voice cold but resolute. “This is my son. If there is even a chance he can keep his eye, I will take it. Let him work.”

Otto frowned, his mouth tightening into a hard line, but he said nothing more. The decision had been made, and Alicent’s gaze had a fire in it that brooked no argument.

Mellos, clearly furious, stepped back, his lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line as he moved aside to let you through. “You will regret this,” he muttered under his breath, but no one responded.

You knelt beside Aemond, pulling your satchel open, and began to work quickly and methodically. The room fell into an uneasy silence as you applied a dark salve from the Shadowlands, your hands steady as you worked with a confidence born from experience. You could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you—Mellos watching like a hawk, Otto frowning in the background, and Alicent standing near, her gaze never leaving her son.

As you worked, Aemond hissed in pain, but he did not flinch. The boy was strong, and you could sense a resolve in him that reminded you of those you had treated on the battlefield—those who had survived even when the odds were stacked against them.

Minutes passed, tense and quiet, as you stitched the wound using thread coated with a special tincture. You worked with precision, ignoring the disapproving mutterings of Mellos nearby. Finally, you sat back, your work complete.

“The healing will take time,” you said, rising to your feet. “But his eye will recover.”

Alicent released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her relief evident. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

The doors to the hall slammed open with force, and in strode Rhaenyra and Daemon, their faces a mixture of worry and fury. They had clearly heard the commotion and rushed to see what had happened. Rhaenyra's eyes immediately fell on her children—Jace, Luke, Baela, and Rhaena—who were standing apart from Aemond, looking shaken but defiant. She moved to them quickly, kneeling down to inspect them, her hands brushing over their faces and arms, making sure they were unharmed.

But then, as she glanced up, her eyes fell on you. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, her world stopped. She hadn’t expected to see you here, not after all this time—not after you had promised that your paths would cross again. Yet, here you were, standing over Aemond, your mask now removed, your dark and foreign features bathed in the flickering torchlight. The sight of you stirred something deep within her, a flood of emotions rushing through her heart.

Before Rhaenyra could speak, before she could ask why you had returned, Alicent’s voice cut through the air, sharp and venomous.

“Look at what your son has done to mine!” Alicent barked, her eyes blazing as she turned on Rhaenyra, her finger pointed toward Aemond, who still sat on the bench, his face bandaged, the remnants of blood on his cheek. “He has maimed Aemond! He will never be the same because of your boy.”

Rhaenyra’s shock turned to rage as she rose, her protective instincts flaring. But before she could speak, the children began to talk all at once, their voices overlapping in a chaotic mess of accusations and defenses.

“He stole Vhagar!” Jace shouted, his eyes wide with anger, his fists clenched at his sides.

“He called us bastards!” Luke added, his voice trembling with both fear and defiance.

“He has no right to Vhagar! She was our mother’s dragon!” Baela cried out, her face flushed with fury as Rhaena, standing beside her, nodded in agreement, her own tears threatening to spill.

The hall erupted in noise, the children’s voices mingling with the angry murmurs of the gathered nobles and guards. Rhaenyra’s hands tightened into fists at her sides, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Alicent. Daemon stood at her side, his eyes cold and dangerous as he surveyed the scene, his hand twitching toward his sword.

But before the situation could escalate further, you stepped forward, your calm, measured voice cutting through the chaos like a knife.

“Dragons cannot be stolen.”

The room fell into a sudden, stunned silence as all eyes turned to you. You met Rhaenyra’s gaze briefly before turning to Aemond, your expression neutral but supportive. “Vhagar chose him. Just as your dragons chose you,” you continued, your voice steady. “The bond between a dragon and rider is not something that can be taken by force. It is forged by something deeper.”

Aemond looked up at you, his good eye wide with surprise. For the first time since the incident, someone had spoken in his defense. Despite his injury, there was a spark of gratitude in his gaze as he listened to your words.

Rhaenyra’s eyes flickered with a mixture of emotions as she processed your defense of Aemond. Part of her bristled at the thought, but she knew you were right. Even in her anger, she could not deny the truth of your words.

You turned back to Aemond, your tone softening as you spoke to him directly. “You should rest, Prince Aemond. The wound will take time to heal.”

Aemond nodded slowly, still clearly in pain but comforted by your calm presence. You turned away then, making your way toward the door, your dark robes flowing behind you as you moved through the silent hall. As you passed by Mellos, you caught his muttering discontent under his breath, but you paid him no mind. His opinion no longer mattered.

Viserys, standing by the edge of the room, watched you go with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. As you passed him, he whispered, “Thank you,” his voice so low that only you could hear.

You offered the briefest of nods before slipping out of the hall, leaving behind a room full of tension and unfinished arguments. You knew the storm brewing within these walls was far from over, but for now, you had done your part. The rest would be up to them.

And as the door closed behind you, the weight of Rhaenyra’s gaze followed you out, her heart still racing from seeing you again after all these years.

Later that night, the corridors of Driftmark were quiet. You were alone, standing in a small antechamber, gazing out of the window into the dark sea. The events of the evening played on your mind, but you were used to such chaos. The court had always been a breeding ground for chaos and intrigue, and tonight had been no different.

The door creaked open softly behind you, but you didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Her presence was unmistakable. Queen Alicent’s footsteps were light, hesitant as she approached.

“Y/N,” she began, her voice low, almost uncertain.

You turned to face her, watching as she stood there, her fingers clutching the folds of her gown nervously. Her face was a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, something she seemed to be struggling to put into words.

“I wanted to thank you,” she said, her eyes lowering briefly before flicking back up to meet yours. “For what you did for Aemond. You saved his eye. I... I didn’t think it was possible, but you did it.”

You inclined your head slightly. “I was doing my job, Your Grace. Nothing more.”

Alicent’s lips pressed together, as though she had expected a different response, something more personal. There was an awkward pause as she seemed to weigh her next words carefully. You could see it—the conflict in her eyes, the weight of her father’s warnings, the judgment of the Faith. Yet there was something else there, too—something that had been stirring within her for far longer.

“I know why you were dismissed by the crown,” she admitted, her voice softer now, as if confessing a secret. “My father warned me about you. He said your methods were unnatural, that you were dangerous. And yet...” She trailed off, stepping closer, her eyes searching yours. “I watched you in court, when you served. I couldn’t help it. There was something about you. Something that I couldn’t ignore.”

Her hand, hesitant at first, slid up your arm. The touch was light, testing, as though she expected you to pull away. But you didn’t flinch. You stood still, your eyes steady as you watched her, understanding what she wanted, what had been stirring within her for years now.

“I was always drawn to you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if speaking the words aloud might break something fragile within her. “Even if it was against everything the Faith taught me. Everything my father said.”

You allowed her touch, her hand moving up your arm, her fingers brushing the edge of your robes. There was a tension between the two of you now, palpable and thick, and yet you didn’t move away. Instead, you tilted your head slightly, allowing her to continue.

Alicent’s breath hitched, her hand lingering at the edge of your robe, her fingers trembling slightly as they slid further up. Her gaze flickered with uncertainty, but also desire—desire that had been buried beneath layers of duty and repression for far too long.

“You don’t stop me,” she whispered, her voice almost accusing, though there was no heat behind it. Her other hand reached up, brushing against the edge of your collar, her fingers trembling slightly. “You let me...”

You tilted your head, your expression calm, though your eyes held hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. “I understand what you want, Alicent,” you murmured, your voice low and steady. “I will not stop you. You’ve been bound by chains for far too long.”

Alicent swallowed hard, her breath shallow as she processed your words. Slowly, she began to disrobe herself, her fingers moving with deliberate slowness as she unclasped the brooch holding her gown together. The fabric slipped from her shoulders, revealing the pale skin beneath, and she stepped closer to you, her eyes never leaving yours.

Her breath came in soft, uneven gasps as the gown fell to the floor, pooling at her feet. For a moment, she stood there, vulnerable, exposed in more ways than one, waiting for your reaction.

You remained still, your eyes studying her without judgment, your hands at your sides. The quiet understanding between you stretched on, the boundaries of propriety and duty long forgotten in the silence of the night. There was no need for words now. What was about to happen had been written long ago, a secret desire neither of you could deny any longer.

Alicent reached up, her fingers grazing your jaw, her touch tentative but filled with need. You did not pull away. Instead, you allowed her to explore this moment, to embrace what she had been too afraid to admit to herself for so long.

The moon hung low over Driftmark, casting its silver light through the windows of the chamber where you and Alicent stood in the quiet aftermath of your encounter. The fire in the hearth had burned low, embers crackling softly as the room filled with the muted sounds of fabric rustling. You pulled your robes over your shoulders, the dark cloth sliding easily into place as you fastened the ties and reached for your mask.

Alicent, still standing near the bed, dressed slowly, her mind seemingly far away. Her hands moved absently over the delicate fabric of her gown as she pulled it back into place, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. The silence between the two of you had settled into something heavy, and it lingered as you adjusted the mask over your face, returning to the familiar anonymity that had shielded you from the world for so long.

As you fastened the final strap, covering your features once more, Alicent finally spoke, her voice quiet but filled with uncertainty. "What happens now?"

You turned to face her, your eyes meeting hers through the shadow of the mask. For a moment, you simply regarded her, the vulnerability in her expression, the weight of everything that had passed between you still hanging in the air. There was no regret in her eyes, but there was something else—something fragile, like she was standing on the edge of a precipice and didn’t know what lay beyond.

“Now,” you said softly, “I leave.”

Alicent blinked, her brow furrowing slightly as she took a step closer. “You’re leaving? Where will you go?”

“Where I am needed next,” you replied, your voice calm and even, as if the answer had always been inevitable.

Alicent’s lips parted as she struggled with the reality of your words. “I can speak with my father. I can convince him, perhaps even convince Viserys. They could employ you again—bring you back into the court. Your skills could still be of use.”

But before she could continue, you raised a hand, cutting her off gently. “No,” you said, your voice firm but not unkind. “The crown is dead, Alicent. It is no longer something I need to serve.”

The words hung between you, stark and final, and you could see the flash of confusion in her eyes. She had spent so long within the walls of power, serving the whims of the crown, that the idea of someone simply walking away from it, choosing another path, seemed foreign to her. She stood there, searching your eyes, trying to understand.

“But...,” Alicent began, her voice faltering as she realized there was nothing she could say to change your mind. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” you said softly, taking a step toward the door, “that my time with the crown is over. I go where I am called now, and Driftmark, King’s Landing... they are no longer places for me.”

Alicent took a deep breath, her hand coming to rest against the frame of the bed as if she needed the support. “Will I ever see you again?”

You paused at the door, your hand resting on the handle as you turned back to face her one last time. The mask obscured your features, but your eyes met hers, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something unspoken between you.

“Perhaps,” you said quietly. “But our paths were never meant to follow the same course for long.”

With that, you opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air, leaving the warmth of the chamber behind. The torches lining the halls flickered as you passed, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the silence.

Behind you, Alicent stood alone in the room, watching as the door slowly closed. The weight of the night, of what had transpired, pressed down on her as she stood there, feeling the chill of the empty space where you had once been. She wrapped her arms around herself, as though trying to hold onto something—something that had already slipped away.

And outside, the sea whispered against the shores of Driftmark, its endless rhythm a reminder that the world moved on, even when the heart wished to stay.

The wind howled around Dragonstone, carrying with it the scent of salt and the distant, ever-present whisper of the sea. Within the stone walls of the castle, chaos reigned. Word had come from King’s Landing, brought by a raven in the dead of night—the news that shattered the fragile peace Rhaenyra had built around herself.

King Viserys was dead.

And the Hightowers had already acted, crowning Aegon the Elder as king, usurping the throne that rightfully belonged to her. The blow had struck deep, sending Rhaenyra into a state of shock so profound that her body had betrayed her. She went into early labor, her third child with Daemon, not yet due for weeks, now threatening to come into the world far too soon.

For three long, agonizing days, Rhaenyra labored. The cries of pain and anguish echoed through the halls of Dragonstone, casting a pall of anxiety over everyone within the castle. Daemon had not left her side, his face etched with worry as he paced outside her chambers, unable to do anything but listen to her suffering.

On the night of the third day, the storm that had been brewing over Dragonstone reached its peak, dark clouds swirling overhead, the rain coming down in sheets. Inside the dimly lit chamber, Rhaenyra writhed in pain, her body struggling against the birth that should not have come so soon. Maesters and midwives hovered over her, their hands trembling as they attempted to assist, but her strength was fading. And in her agony, her voice broke through the noise, crying out a name that hadn’t been spoken in years.

“Y/N!” she screamed, her voice hoarse and desperate, echoing through the stone walls. Her hand gripped the edge of the bed as another wave of pain wracked her body. “Y/N!”

Daemon, standing just outside the door, stiffened at the sound of the name. He glanced at the midwives who scurried in and out of the chamber, his jaw tightening. The name lingered in the air like a ghost, a reminder of someone he hadn’t seen in years—a shadow from Rhaenyra’s past.

Before he could make sense of the moment, one of his men rushed to him, breathless and soaked from the storm. “My lord,” the guard panted, “a ship just docked, and a figure... a masked and robed figure... arrived. He is asking for you.”

Daemon’s heart pounded in his chest as the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. He turned sharply to the guard, his voice low and filled with tension. “Where is he?”

“On the beach, my lord. He came ashore alone. The crew stayed back.”

Without another word, Daemon stormed down the corridors of Dragonstone, his footsteps heavy with purpose. The rain was relentless as he stepped outside, the wind whipping his silver hair around his face, but he barely noticed. His focus was singular, his mind racing with the implications of what this could mean.

The beach was a blur of grey and white, the storm churning the sea into violent waves. And there, standing alone on the shore, was the figure Daemon had heard about. The robes were unmistakable—dark, flowing, and shadowed by the flickering light of the torches held by his men. The mask covered his face, just as it had years ago when Daemon had last seen him.

The healer from Asshai. Y/N.

Daemon approached quickly, his sword at his side, though his hand did not rest on the hilt. His eyes locked on the figure before him. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice rough from days of sleepless worry. “Why now?”

You turned slowly to face him, your mask hiding the expression beneath, but your eyes gleamed in the torchlight. “I go where I am needed,” you said, your voice as calm and enigmatic as ever. “And she called for me.”

Daemon’s jaw clenched. “She needs more than your tricks,” he said coldly, though there was a flicker of hope buried beneath the anger. “She’s been in labor for days, and the child—” His voice faltered, betraying the fear he rarely showed. “The child may not survive.”

You nodded once, stepping forward. “Take me to her.”

The storm raged on, but within the halls of Dragonstone, the tension was even more palpable. The midwives and maesters surrounding Rhaenyra barely noticed as you entered the room, your presence commanding without needing to say a word. All eyes turned to you, but none dared question your right to be there.

Daemon entered behind you, his gaze never leaving Rhaenyra’s trembling form on the bed. Her hair, damp with sweat, clung to her face, and her eyes fluttered with exhaustion. She looked up as you approached, her breath catching.

“Y/N...” she whispered, her voice weak but filled with relief. “You... came.”

You knelt by her side, your fingers brushing lightly over her forehead, feeling the fever that had taken hold of her. “You called for me,” you said softly, your voice cutting through the noise of the room. “And I am here.”

Rhaenyra’s lips trembled, her fingers reaching out to grasp yours weakly. “Save my child,” she begged, her eyes filled with desperation. “Please.”

You glanced briefly at Daemon, who stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes dark with worry. Then, you turned back to Rhaenyra, your voice steady. “I will do everything I can.”

As you began your work, the room fell into an uneasy silence, the storm outside roaring as you focused on the task at hand.

Daemon watched, his heart pounding as he placed his trust—once again—in the healer from Asshai.

The maesters and midwives stood by, their faces pale and uncertain, as they reluctantly stepped aside to allow you to approach Rhaenyra. The storm outside seemed to echo the turmoil within the room, the howling wind and crashing waves matching the chaotic emotions swirling around them all. The maesters exchanged uneasy glances, their rigid adherence to tradition conflicting with the reality of Rhaenyra's condition and your presence.

Your hands moved with calm precision, though the weight of the room’s eyes was heavy upon you. The midwives whispered among themselves, clearly uncomfortable with what was happening, but they dared not challenge you—not with Daemon standing nearby, his gaze dark and intense, a silent command that kept everyone in check.

The birth was long and painful. Rhaenyra’s cries echoed off the stone walls, her body wracked with exhaustion after days of labor. Daemon’s face, normally so controlled, was tight with worry as he watched her struggle, his fists clenched at his sides. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, each moment pulling tighter on the threads of fate that bound them all together.

And then, in the oppressive silence that followed, the child came into the world.

You held the small, silent babe in your hands, her tiny body still and unnervingly quiet. The room seemed to hold its breath, the absence of a newborn’s cry weighing down on everyone like a leaden shroud. The silence was deafening.

“It’s a girl,” you said quietly, your voice cutting through the tension as you gently cradled the child in your arms.

Rhaenyra’s head turned weakly toward you, her face pale, eyes wide with fear and exhaustion. Daemon’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes fixed on the still form of his daughter. The maesters and midwives shifted nervously, their faces filled with dread.

“She’s not—” Grand Maester Gerardys began, but you cut him off with a calm but firm voice.

“Leave the room.”

The command was simple, but it hung in the air like a challenge. The maesters hesitated, Gerardys stepping forward as though to protest, but before he could say anything more, Rhaenyra’s voice, weak but filled with authority, spoke up.

“Go,” she ordered, her eyes sharp despite her exhaustion. “All of you. Leave us.”

The room fell silent once more, the tension crackling like lightning in the air. Daemon gave you a long, searching look, his face tight with uncertainty, but he nodded slowly. His hand lingered on Rhaenyra’s for a moment before he turned to leave, his steps slow and reluctant. The others followed, filing out of the chamber one by one, the oppressive silence returning as the door closed behind them.

For hours, Daemon stood outside the chamber doors, his jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Grand Maester Gerardys stood beside him, his face stiff with skepticism and unease. The storm continued to rage outside, its fury mirrored by the fear that gnawed at Daemon’s heart.

“Whatever that man claims to be able to do,” Gerardys muttered, his voice tight with disbelief, “it is impossible. The child was born still. There is no—”

Before he could finish, a sharp, piercing cry filled the air.

Daemon’s head snapped toward the door, his heart pounding in his chest. The maester’s eyes widened in disbelief, his face paling as the newborn’s wails continued, clear and strong.

“That... that is not possible,” Gerardys stammered, his voice trembling with shock. But Daemon was already moving, his hand throwing the door open as he rushed back into the chamber.

Inside, the sight that greeted him was something no one could have expected. Rhaenyra lay in the bed, her body weak but her face alight with emotion as she cradled her newborn daughter in her arms. The small babe was very much alive, her tiny fists clenched as she cried out into the night, filling the room with the sound of life.

The midwives gasped in shock as they gathered near the door, their hands covering their mouths as they took in the miraculous sight. Even Gerardys, ever the skeptic, stood frozen in the doorway, his disbelief etched into his every feature.

Rhaenyra, tears in her eyes, looked up at Daemon as he approached the bed, her voice soft but filled with awe. “Her name is Visenya.”

Daemon stood there, rooted to the spot, his eyes wide as he stared at the tiny girl, alive and well, nestled in her mother’s arms. His gaze flickered to you, standing quietly in the corner of the room, your robes shadowed by the flickering light of the fire. He looked at you, bewildered, searching for some explanation—some answer to the impossible.

But your mask, as always, betrayed nothing.

You stood silently, watching as the room filled with wonder and disbelief, your role in the miracle already fading into the background. Visenya’s cries echoed around you, the sound of life returning to the hall. And as you moved toward the door, your part in the story complete, Daemon’s gaze followed you, questions burning in his eyes—but you offered no answers.

As you stepped out of the chamber and into the cold corridors of Dragonstone, the storm outside began to fade, leaving behind only the soft whisper of the sea and the distant cries of a newborn who had defied the odds to enter the world.

You stood by the hearth, your hand clutching a letter—its seal bearing the unmistakable sigil of House Hightower. The letter had arrived just hours ago, carried across the sea from King’s Landing. It bore a simple message, written in the elegant hand of Dowager Queen Alicent, summoning you to the capital.

The words echoed in your mind as you reread the letter one final time:

"I now have the power to employ you once more. Aegon, the rightful King, and Aemond both support my decision. Come to King’s Landing. Your place is with us."

With a flick of your wrist, you cast the letter into the fire. The paper curled and blackened as the flames consumed it, the message reduced to ash. You watched it burn without a word, your face expressionless behind your mask.

The sound of the door opening behind you pulled your attention away from the fire. You turned, your eyes narrowing slightly as you saw Rhaenyra step into the room. She was calm, her expression soft but thoughtful as she moved with the quiet grace that always seemed to surround her. Her silver hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and her violet eyes held the weight of too many burdens.

You nodded in greeting, acknowledging her presence, but said nothing. She took a seat in one of the chairs by the hearth, her fingers tracing the armrests as she stared into the flames for a long moment. The firelight danced across her features, highlighting the exhaustion that lingered beneath her outward composure.

“I don’t know how to ever repay you,” she said quietly, her voice filled with a vulnerability she rarely allowed herself to show. “For what you did for me, for my daughter.” She paused, glancing at you with an almost sad smile. “You refused every reward I offered.”

You stood silent for a moment before speaking, your voice low but steady. “I need nothing, Rhaenyra. I live to serve.”

Rhaenyra frowned at your response, her eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and concern. “You speak of service,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I wonder… who or what do you serve, truly?”

You didn’t respond immediately, the question hanging in the air between you. It was a question you had asked yourself many times, but the answer remained elusive, always just out of reach. Rhaenyra watched you closely, waiting, but when you offered no reply, she didn’t press. Instead, she sighed, her gaze softening.

“You abandoned me,” she said quietly, her words carrying the weight of years. “All those years ago, when you left the court. You left without a word, and I never saw you again.”

There was no accusation in her voice, only sadness. It was a wound that had never fully healed.

“I have abandoned many things in my life,” you replied, your voice even, though there was a hint of something deeper beneath it.

Rhaenyra rose from her chair, moving toward you with slow, deliberate steps. When she was close enough to reach out, she did, her fingers brushing against the side of your masked face with a tenderness that had never dimmed over the years. The warmth of her touch was a stark contrast to the cold distance you often kept between yourself and the world.

“You will always have a place by my side,” she whispered, her voice soft but filled with conviction. “You belong here, with me.”

For a moment, you stood there, her hand resting against your mask, her touch filled with affection and something more. The weight of your shared history pressed down on you, and the years you had spent apart suddenly felt insignificant compared to the bond that still tied you to her.

But just as quickly as she had come close, Rhaenyra pulled away, letting her hand fall back to her side. She gave you one last, lingering look before turning and leaving the room, her footsteps fading into the distance as the door closed softly behind her.

You were left alone once more, the crackle of the fire the only sound in the room.

And now, you were faced with a choice.

On one side, there was Rhaenyra—the Black Queen, the woman who had just bared her heart to you, offering a place by her side in the fight for the throne. She had never forgotten you, never let go of the connection you shared, and now she was calling you back, offering you a role in her kingdom.

But on the other side, there was Alicent, waiting for you in King’s Landing. The Dowager Queen, who had always been drawn to you despite her father’s warnings, now had the power to bring you back into the fold. She had reached out to you, offering a place in Aegon’s court, with the support of both Aegon and Aemond behind her.

Two queens, two crowns. Two paths.

And now, the choice was yours to make.

[annwrites]

⸻ trick or treat one-shot collection.

· pairing:  jacaerys velaryon x twinsis!reader · type: modern!au | (collection) · summary: you & jace watch a scary movie together in private. · tags: twincest, ass-grabbing, fondling, fingering, nipple-play, masturbation, french kissing · word count: 901

You’ve just finished loading the dishwasher when Jace pads into the kitchen and retrieves the orange juice from the fridge, taking a swig directly from the bottle.

You scoff, coming to stand in front of him. “That’s so gross, Jace. We all drink from that. Why don’t you use a cup?”

He slides it back onto the shelf, shutting the stainless-steel door before leaning back against a counter, smirking at you.

“You think me shoving my mouth onto that is gross?”

You flush, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“Just use a glass next time,” you reply quietly.

You turn to head back to your room, until Jace grabs your ass, causing you to squeak in surprise.

You swing around, lightly slapping his hand, and he grins.

“What if mom or dad see?” You hiss, barely above a whisper.

He shrugs. “I’m sure one of them would understand. There’s always been those rumors about mom and great-uncle Daemon from when she was around our age.”

You take a step closer, narrowing your eyes at him. “Exactly: rumors. What do you think they’d do if they found out that we’ve been—”

He slides a hand down your arm, interrupting you. “Find out we’ve what? Like neither of them have ever walked in before,” he says sarcastically.

You throw your head back, groaning. “Not since we were little. So, at the time, that was the excuse.”

You level your gaze again. “That we were just young, confused, and experimenting. So we didn’t know it was ‘wrong’.”

Jace takes your hand, twines his fingers between yours, and he leads you back to his bedroom—past the living room where your mom is folding laundry and Joffrey is sitting on the floor watching Bluey.

Luke is currently outside playing while your dad works on the family car.

“Because it wasn’t,” he finally whispers, guiding you down the hall.

Jace shuts his bedroom door behind the two of you and he turns his TV on.

You sit back on the futon pushed against the opposite wall of his room, watching out the window as golden-brown leaves drift down.

“Do you want to stream something, or watch a DVD or blu-ray?” He asks, grabbing the remote from his bedside table.

You shrug. “You choose.”

He sits down beside you then, opening Netflix.

Half-an-hour later finds Jace lying on his back with you half on-top of him and your face half-hidden against his chest.

“Why’d you have to pick a scary one?” You whine, peeking at the flat-screen from between your fingers.

He slides a hand up your shirt, gently toying with your breast. “So I can do this.”

You roll your eyes. “You can do that without giving me nightmares.”

His lip twitches. “Well, at least this way I’ll get to have you crawling into my bed halfway through the night.”

You lightly shake your head, then gasp quietly. “Oh God, why’d she go in the closet? It’s going to find her!”

Jace snorts, so you pinch his nose in retribution.

“It’s not funny!”

He shifts underneath you then—his erection pressing firmly against your stomach, causing a pleasant warmth to bloom between your thighs. “I think it’s hilarious.”

You slide your hand under his shirt and he hums in interest…until you twist his nipple.

“Ow! Really?” He asks, turning to glare at you.

You then press your lips to his, nodding with a smile. “Mhm.”

He wraps his arms around you then, before turning the two of you until his body is lying wholly on top of your own.

You spread your legs so his pelvis can rest comfortably between them.

You sigh as Jace nips his way down your neck, flicking his tongue against your sensitive skin, and you moan, grinding your hips against his erection, and your twin quietly curses.

You roll your head to the side, looking back to the TV, and your eyes widen. “Jace, I hate this movie. Why’d you—”

You promptly shut your mouth when you feel him tugging your shorts off, choosing to instead watch as he tosses them across the room before he slowly sinks his long fingers between your hot, wet folds.

“Why’d I what?” He asks, circling your clit with his thumb.

Your mind goes fuzzy, unable to concentrate on anything that isn’t Jace, Jace, Jace…

Your eyes flutter closed and you hum happily, smiling warmly at the feel of him. “Nevermind.”

He pushes your—rather, his—t-shirt up, exposing your perfect breasts, and he dips his head, his matching brown curls to your own tickling your skin as he begins to lap at your nipples, gently sucking and rolling them between his teeth while he continues to slowly finger you.

He lifts his head, glancing back to the TV while he slips his free hand under the waistband of his boxers beneath his sweatpants—stroking himself.

“Maybe we’ll watch The Exorcist next,” he says with a grin.

You stare up at him from beneath hooded lids. “I didn’t sleep for two nights last year when you made me watch that one.”

He leans down, brushing his lips over yours. “And think of all the fun we had not sleeping.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, easing your tongue into his mouth, not having a reply, since you know he’s so very right.

It had been a lot of fun.

Everything always is with your twin brother.

[starogeorgina]

𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲

Pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen x reader

Warnings: Swearing

1.03

“Jace—”

With tears in his eyes, Jacaerys quickly turns and runs in the opposite direction. What if he went straight to his mother and told her what Aegon said? Even worse, what if he told Lucerys? You go to chase after your nephew, but Aegon grabs your wrist. “Just leave it be.”

“He just heard you call his mother a whore and him a bastard. I cannot simply leave it.”

Aegon lets go of you and shrugs, “Who cares? He is a bastard.”

“His parentage is not the point; Jace is just a child.”

“I thought you were angry at our sisters.” Frustrated by your silence, Aegon tosses the empty goblet in his hand at the ground and clenches his teeth. “You can’t possibly feel bad for them?”

“Our nephews didn’t betray me; only Rhaenyra did. Those boys don’t deserve what is being said about them.” Shaking your head, you watch as Aegon puffs out his cheeks in a childlike manner. “Besides, father will be furious if she hears what you said.”

“Course he will,” he scoffs.

“Are you going to come with me to find him?”

When Aegon doesn’t answer, you start to walk away, but when he realizes you’re serious, he chases you back down the rocky path you’d walked up side by side moments before. “Your mind is like a labyrinth.”

“What?”

Sharply he says, “You’re truly a fool, sister, if you think they will ever care for you.”

“I’m already aware Rhaenyra doesn’t, but Jace and Luke—”

“Don’t either. They will grow up to be just like her.”

Your lips begin to tremble.

“Don’t look at me like that; I’m just telling you the truth. Our sister and her bastards will always come first to the realm, to our father, to each other. We have no place with them.”

A lump forms in the back of your throat; you weren’t sure if Aegon was saying this to deliberately hurt you or if his drunken thoughts had started to overspill. “Go sober up, brother, before the queen finds you.”

—

On the rocky outcrops overlooking where Lady Laena was laid to rest, you find Jacaerys sitting on the ground, hugging his knees to his chest, his eyes swollen and cheeks flushed from crying. He was watching Ser Laenor standing in the waves, mourning his sister.

You sit down beside him. “What you overheard—”

“I asked my mother if I was a bastard, and she told me I was a Targaryen.”

“She is right.” You reach for his hand. “Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor Velaryon love you, Luke, and Joff very much. And that is all that matters.”

“Do you still love us?”

“Of course, I’ll always love you and your brothers. No matter what.”

—

Retiring for the night you’re left with a sour taste in your mouth. You had tried to persuade Aegon to join at supper before bed, but he insisted on spending his night drowning himself in his cups and ogling any lady he could.

Flora was behind you as you walked to the bedchamber you were staying in for the night. Just as you’re about to turn the corner, yeah, Ser Harrold and Ser Criston’s were attempting to keep quiet, but whatever irritations they had were causing their voices to become louder.

“Are you familiar with the fate of Ser Chester Mooton?”

You peek around the corner just as Ser Criston straightens up his shoulders; he looks irritated. “No, I haven't, Lord Commander.”

“He was a knight of House Mooton, a member of King Jaehaerys Kingsguard, and the sworn protector of his daughter Princess Saera Targaryen. The two were always seen by each other's sides, even during the late hours of the night. They were as thick as thieves—overly familiar. King Jaehaerys had Chester gelded and sent to the Wall. His grace, King Viserys, would do the same.”

“What are you—”

Flora, who was listening in as intently as you, slips as she leans against the wall, making a slapping sound. The two of you share a panicked look; she clears her throat. “Is there anything else you wish to do, princess, before retiring for the evening?”

Just as the question leaves her mouth, the two nights turn the corner. The older knight looks his normal self as he greets you and your lady, while Ser Criston looks slightly flustered.

“Ser Harrold, Ser Criston.”

“Princess, it’s a little late to be exploring the castle, especially without a shield,” Ser Harrold says. “Ser Criston will escort the two of you back safely.”

The walk to the bedchamber is in complete silence. You and Flora lock eyes every so often but quickly look away, afraid the knight would catch on. Different questions were reeling in your mind: had Ser Criston broken his vows? Since being in the kingsguard, the knight had only been a shield for two people. Her grace, the queen, and your elder sister, princess Rhaenyra.

Which one did he break his vows with?

—

“Will that be all, princess?”

“Yes, goodnight, Flora. I’ll see you in the morrow.”

Your lady-in-waiting nods her head, then takes leave. Although Driftmark Castle was a small, grim, and forbidding building, you found comfort in its dampness, peculiar since the blood of the dragon runs thick through your veins.

You dangle your legs over the edge of the bed while trying to settle your mind, which had been racing since your conversation with Jacaerys earlier. You knew what it was like growing up with whispers being spread about you. It was never a secret at court; your father desperately wanted a son, and his wife died giving birth to twins; he was only left with the daughter he didn’t want. And now Rhaenyra’s son’s would spend the rest of their lives being called bastards.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you feel the softness of the ghostly white nightgown beneath your fingers. The shade matches your dragon; ghosts pale, almost ethereal shade of white scales.

Sighing, your bare feet touch the cold stone floor as you make your way to the table in the center of the room. You sit and begin to light the candles Flora placed on the wooden surface. Quietly you speak to yourself, “Aemma Arryn, Baelon Targaryen, Laena Velaryon.” A single tear rolls down your cheek as you light the last candle, “Harwin Strong.”

You stare at the flames, watching as they move with the wind blowing through the open window.

The door to the room suddenly opens, and a member of your father's kingsguard enters. “Princess, forgive the intrusion, but there has been an incident, and the queen has requested your presence as a matter of urgency.”

[poppinspops]

Dear older brother

Part 1, Part 2

Lucerys velaryon as your brother (platonic) the beginning of your relationship to the end of it..

Fem reader! Sorry, it's just easier to write for girls as a girl myself. I do hope you understand

Lucerys is your older brother as you were born a year after Luke was born a bastard, just like your two older brothers having dark hair and dark eyes

Though your mother Rhaenyra doesn't like it when you call yourself that neither do your two brothers but alas you still do when upset with yourself

Lucerys HATES being called Lukey by everyone that's not you, and you hate when others (besides joffery, jace, and your mother) call him lukey

You and jace mainly use it when you are teasing him, and sometimes Rhaenyra joins in

You two where sat next to each other at dinner, always whispering about something or someone you always did strive to make your older brother laugh

Luke is more open with you because you would come into his chambers and let your brother rant to you or vice versa

But it was more often that he came into your chambers and spoke his mind with no fear of judgment from you

Often, big events ended in him in your arms crying after something stressful happened in his chambers, though you didn't mind

You're usually the one consoling him if your mother hadn't beat you to it

You are the definition of a brothers girl

You are usually seen next to Luke or walking beside him. Wherever Luke went, you weren't far behind him

Though if Lucerys isn't off with jacerys doing something most likely practicing sword fighting, you'd be seen with your mother Rhaenyra

During important dinners or really any social event your mother planned or was invited to, you'd always would be seen standing next to luke or sitting with him whispering to Luke

Most likely, just you gossiping to him about something another Lord told you or how disgusting one of the lords where with you

-----------

You bumped Lucerys gently with your elbow whispering to your older brothers "so.. how are you 'enjoying' this beautiful banquet older brother?" Giggling as you saw his quick roll of the eyes before he replied back in a hushed tone

"Oh, I see how it is.. how was dancing with almost every lord tonight?" Luke said with a sly smirk on his pale face. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes giving him a good elbow in the side making him grumble as he rubbed his side. Your feet hurt like hell from all of the dancing you had to do tonight it was almost as bad as your name day.. "delightful." You replied in a strained voice. Luke had laughed at that, making you smile and laugh with your brother, elbowing him harder in the side this time, making him yelp out in pain.

You two quickly composed yourselves when your older brother turned his head over to the two of you making you straighten your back and look away from his gaze not seeing the small smile on his face from seeing his two younger siblings seemingly having fun teasing one another.

-----------

Luke is the calmer one between the both of you which was funny as your mother thought that her having a girl after her two boys would mean the two older boys where going to be the ones protecting their younger sister from others when it turned out to be the complete opposite, not that Rhaenyra minded at all she was proud that her first daughter could defend herself

Daemon had once told his wife you acted like her when she was younger, and Rhaenyra agreed as you did

Though she did wish that you would hold your tongue at times as you would go head first into arguments no matter if you or your brothers were in the right or wrong

One of your brothers could have been the one that got the facts wrong, but you would have still defended them with your life, that made you get into physical altercations with many lords and some lady's aswell

Though Rhaenyra was proud of that, it was like she had given birth to a second jacerys. Just this time, you could punch harder than jacerys could..

You were a natural when it came to learning High Valyrian much like Lucerys is

When you got the news of your mother being pregnant, it left you overjoyed. You so dearly wanted to know if you had a little sister coming. Look. It's hard being the only girl in a family of mainly men.

When your baby brother joffery was born, you adored him from the moment you first got a glimpse of him

You always volunteered to watch over little joffery, to teach him how to walk and how to say his first words, begging your mother

Though this did leave Lucerys a bit envious of his little brother joffery and how he seemed to take up all your time and attention now ever since he was born.

It caused Luke to start giving you a bit of the cold shoulder rolling his eyes when your little brother was brought up

When you had figured out why Luke was giving you the cold shoulder for a few weeks, you laughed and teased him for it as it was silly and lucerys knew that

You and Jace started teasing Luke about it for months on end

You had started spending all your free time teaching your younger brother how to speak and what names each color had much to Luke's dismay, you where often seen in Jofferys' room reading to him, as you had always wanted a younger sibling and you had finally gotten one a well mannered one at that.

You were a tad bit upset that he wasn't a girl, though you had quickly gotten over that once you held him in your arms as he tried to say your name

When you were younger, you used to follow Luke around, just like what little joffery does with you now

It was funny to Rhaenyra that joffery acts so much like his older sister

though she was glade that unlike his older sister, joffery didn't go and dig up holes in the ground, looking for worms much to her mothers dismay when finding her daughter outside, digging up bugs from the ground..

You were never too fond of Daemon, your stepfather. Though he seemed to be fond of you quite a lot being as he has daughters of his own (girl dad daemon), so he understood you on a level your brothers just didn't.

Daemon was the first to defend you, or he'd just appear by your side randomly at times. You thought you had been the one intimidating people, but it was really daemon standing behind you that intimidated those people and scaring them off

once you had punched him out of shock, as he had scared you as you didn't know he was standing behind you once though he just smiled as your punch didn't do much.... that day hurt your pride and ego very much, though you were just happy you didn't get punched back.

You and your mother Rhaenyra got along swell she gets you the most since your the only two girls in a house with four boys

You being Rhaenyras' first daughter and all means you have a special place in her heart as you weren't going to get a fancy title like you had always hopped for as you were sadly born a woman. And your brothers men.

You and lucerys safe place was always near the water

Least to say, after his death, it was no longer your safe space it was a place of fear, death, and great mourning when you sat near the water.

You had gotten news of your elder brother lucerys death when you were getting ready for bed. The news brought you to your knees in tears, your mothers soft voice trying to calm you down as she herself was a reck, but she tried to hold it together for you

It took hours for you to stop crying. Your eyes had a red rim around them with tear stained cheeks and a wobbly lip

You wouldn't come out of your room and barely talked much for almost half a month

The funeral couldn't even be called one as all you had of your brother was clothes and personal belongings to burn. They couldn't find lucerys body now lost at sea, and that made the anger in that you boil up, making you snappy at people

You had sympathy for aemond before he killed your brother, you did feel a bit bad for his eye being stabbed out by your older brother feeling guilty everytime you saw him with that eyepatch he was a child like yourself afterall..

You never did hate aemond you two would well 'talk' well it was more of exchanging a few words when you had too though, Jace always seemed to come in and swoop you away you where always greatful for that as your exchanges of words where rather awkward. It was more staring than talking if you were honest.

Aemond took every chance he could to remind you of how your brother took his eye

You didn't know what kind of reaction the older boy wanted to gauge from you, but he never seemed quite happy with the reactions you would give him

He only seemed pleased when you would apologize for your older brother saying how he shouldn't have done that and things along those lines for some odd reason unbeknownst to you, a weird almost delighted smile would appear on the aemonds face it was odd.

Though you always found aemond to be a bit weird, so you brushed it off as aemond being aemond

After your brothers death and having to be at his make shift funeral, your heart held no sympathy for the older boy.

when you thought of the one-eyed boy, all you could think about was taking his other eye from him and forcing him to live the rest of his pathetic life blind.

You could no longer see the ocean as safe and calm. You saw the true nature of what the ocean could truly be. Its waves were angry as it took the lives of people you held so very dearly into its depths to never be seen again, or maybe that's just how you saw it in your many hours of grieving

After half a month, you were slowly healing your relationship with the sea, knowing that at least your brother died both as a targaryen and as a velaryon and he wasn't alone in death he had his beloved dragon both dead but dead together.

[frost-queen]

When hiding crosses bridges (Child!Reader & House of the dragon)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine

Summary: You are playing hide and seek with your father, mother and brothers Luke and Jace when you wander into the greens side by chance. Once joined by your cousins and Queen Alicent, there is a cute fluffy moment where Aegon is a bit hesitant to join in, but eventually does. < part 2 >

Daemon turned round, moving his arm up over his eyes. – “One.” – he started counting making you laugh. – “Two… three…” – he continued. Rhaenyra and Jace already taking a run for it. You kept laughing, bouncing in excitement. Daemon chuckled underneath his breath. – “Y/n my darling, I can still hear you.” – he said without looking once. – “Y/n!” – Luke called out, running over to you. He took you by the hand, pulling you gently with him. – “Come little sister, we must hide.” – he told you.

“What about father?” – you asked curiously, pointing back at him while your brother pulled you away. Luke briefly looked up to the ceiling, wondering how you still weren’t getting the rules of this game. – “Father is the one who needs to be looking for us Y/n.” – he explained. You nodded following your brother round the corner. – “So I have to hide from father?” – you asked him to be certain. Luke hummed loud, quickening his pace.

He took another turn and another. He sighed relieved seeing a good place to hide. He hastened over to it, ready to grab the curtain when his hold got blocked. By his side Jace. – “What are you doing?” – Jace shout-whispered to keep his voice low. – “I’m hiding, what are you doing?” – Luke questioned pulling hard on the curtain. – “I saw it first! It is my hiding spot.” – he insisted on, pulling the curtain more towards him.

“No I saw it first!” – Luke insisted on, giving his brother a hard nudge. Jace clenched his jaw, nudging his brother back. – “Au!” – Luke said, giving his brother a good glare. – “Go hide somewhere else!” – Jace pressured on with a firm glare. – “No!” – Luke held his foot down. – “I’m the oldest!” – Jace made clear, sure to keep his voice down but powerful enough. Luke scoffed. – “That is no excuse.” – he replied giving him a slight push.

You watched the entire bickering, waiting patiently. You softly started humming a tune, wobbling on your feet. It made your brother end their bickering to look over their shoulders to you. – “You are supposed to be hiding Y/n.” – Jace spoke turning more towards you. – “I am…” – you responded sweetly. – “I’m going to hide with Luke.” – you added. Luke sighed loud, moving away from the corner. He knelt down to your height, taking you by the arm.

“You can’t hide with me Y/n.” – he said. – “Why not?” – you asked tilting your head a bit. Jace came joining in, kneeling beside his brother. – “You have to find a hiding place for your own.” – he held you by your other hand, making his words clear with his eyes. – “Oh…” – you replied saddened, looking down. – “That is the game Y/n.” – Jace said getting back up. Luke exhaled deep, getting up as well.

From around a corner came your mother out of breath. – “What are you all standing here, your father is coming!” – she warned panicky. Luke and Jace’s eyes widened ushering them to move. They almost bumped against each other in the rush to hide. Rhaenyra lifted the hem of her dress up, taking a further run for it. You turned round, leaving. Jace grabbed Luke by his arm to move him out of his way. It was then that he looked worriedly down.

“Where is Y/n?” – he said aloud. Luke looked down for himself, eyes widening. – “Hiding I hope.” – he answered, slowly feeling a bit guilty of telling you off. Jace came to a realization, grabbing his brother by the shoulders. – “What if she gets lost in this big castle?” – he said worriedly. Luke swallowed ashamed. What if you did? You were but a child. It would be easy for you to get lost.

Both of them were overcome with worry and shame. Maybe they should’ve gone in hiding with you. Hearing their father’s voice in the background, made them panic. Jace pushed Luke aside, taking a run for it. Luke running in the opposite direction in the hopes of being able to find a hiding place before his father finds him.

You were running as fast as your little legs could carry you. Jace had said you needed to hide by yourself, so that is what you were going to do. Find a hiding spot so father wouldn’t be able to find you. Some ladies shrieked when you rushed past them. Soldiers darted away when you came chasing down the corridors. – “Princess!” – one of the guards called out in an attempt to slow you down. You ignored them, keeping your pace up.

You were hardly looking for a hiding spot as you just kept running. The game not entirely clear. You noticed a sudden change in guards. Their uniforms different then the one’s you were known to. Not really stopping to wonder why, you kept going. Laughing mischievous that you were hiding away from father. Would he have already found someone? Your mother? Brothers perhaps?

“Hey what are you doing here?” – you suddenly heard making you come to a stop. You felt scared when the guard came nearer, hands ready as if he was about to catch you. – “You’re not supposed to be here.” – he said. You panicked, screaming loud as you escaped under his arms just as he was about to grab at you. – “Hey! Come back here!” – he shouted turning around to go after you.

Calling it out, you hurried not wanting to be caught. The guard scared you. He called in a few fellow guards to join him on the chase. – “Stand still!” – one of them ordered. – “Get back here!” – another one warned you. Covering up your ears, you screamed loud in a panic. Heart thumping loudly against your chest. You nearly tripped as the storm of guards came closer.

Tears swelled up as they rolled down your cheeks. How much you wanted to be in hiding with any of your brothers now. Sniffing loud, your breath shuddered. There seemed to be no escaping them as you rushed into a room. Just any room. You had opened the door and busted inside, not caring what kind of room it was. Out of breath, you were panting against the heavy door.

“Y/n?” – your eyes widened seeing Queen Alicent slowly rise from her chair, holding a piece of parchment. Near her turned her two sons Aegon and Aemond around to you. – “What are you doing here?” – Alicent asked kindly. You firmly wiped your tears away. Aemond batting his eye down. Alicent softened her expression, coming nearer. – “What is it little Y/n?” – she asked coming up to you where she knelt down.

At the sight of her, you started crying more. Alicent brushing her fingers through your hair to sooth you. – “What happened Y/n?” – she asked. Aegon puffed loudly, crossing his arms. Aemond shot him a glare for acting like this. Your lip trembled. – “Did you get lost?” – Alicent said as you nodded with more tears streaming down your face. Alicent clicked her tongue softly, moving you closer to her for an embrace.

“We were playing hide and seek.” – you told her with a loud shudder. – “Hide and seek?” – Aemond repeated intrigued, coming closer. You nodded as Alicent wiped some tears away. – “That sounds fun.” – she addressed. You nodded again. – “I wasn’t allowed to hide with Luke.” – you told them. Aemond came kneeling beside his mother, holding a hand out to you. – “Did he now little cousin.”

 “That is the game!” – Aegon pitched in from afar. Aemond batted his eye briefly up to the ceiling in despair. – “If I were Luke, I would’ve allowed you to hide with me.” – he said making you smile a bit. – “Would you cousin?” – you replied seeing him nod with a loud hum. You gasped loud, jumping into Aemond’s arms when there was a loud knock on the door. Alicent rose as the door entered. A guard popped his head inside. – “Yes?” – Alicent asked quirking her eyebrow up.

The guard’s eyes fell upon you. – “Good, you found her.” – he said making Alicent look down at you. – “This kid’s been wandering at the wrong side of the castle. I’ll get her out of here, your grace.” – he said with a bow. Alicent saw how you pressed yourself closer to Aemond, clearly frightened by the guard. – “Tell me.” -Alicent spoke, holding her chin up. – “Have you been chasing Rhaenyra’s daughter all around this area?” – the guard wasn’t sure what the meaning of her question was but nodded anyway.

Alicent smiled sarcastically to the guard. – “You may go!” – she insisted on. – “But the child.” – the guard begged. Alicent moved her hand up to silence him. – “Leave!” – she made clear. The guard bowed his head, taking his leave. Alicent took a deep breath, composing herself. – “Apologies Y/n. I hope the guards haven’t scared you too much?”

“I…I didn’t mean to wander off.” – you told her as Aemond was still holding you. – “I was just looking for a place to hide from father.” – Alicent shushed you taking your hand. – “All is well Y/n.” – she said. Aemond got back up, following his mother. – “You can stay here if you like, hide from your father.” – she turned round to wink at you. That made you laugh giddy. Aemond picked you up, setting you on the bed. You started jumping on the bed as Aemond tickled you. It made you squirm and come to a stop.

He kept tickling you till you fell back onto the matrass. You felt a pillow underneath you, pulling it away. Aemond looked stunned when you had thrown a pillow at him. Aegon snorting loud. Aemond turned round bothered to his brother. Aegon held his tongue, trying to keep a straight face. Aemond grabbed the pillow, throwing it towards his brother. Aegon ducked down as the pillow hit an oblivious Alicent. You laughed loud as Aemond had widened his eye. – “Mother I am sorry…”- he apologized.

Alicent picked up the pillow, hesitating a moment before surprising Aemond by throwing it back at him. You were laughing loud as Aemond wiped that smile of your face by hitting you. You fell backwards onto the matrass. Alicent and Aemond quickly grabbed a few pillows to defend themselves. Soon a series of throws were exchanged, hitting each other.

Aegon was the only one not participating. He was glancing your way, hearing your loud sweet laughter. Groaning loud, he couldn’t hold it anymore. He grabbed a pillow, joining the fight that seemed like so much fun. He got hit by a pillow, falling onto the matrass with you. You knelt down, hitting him repeatedly with a pillow. - “I surrender cousin.” – Aegon called out as you kept laughing. He got a bit up, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you down on the matrass with him. Tickling you in revenge.

---------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[sena-seastar]

The Dragon's Gold

Chapter One

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

Words: 7385

a/n: Dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. Though, there may be some high valyrian thrown in here and there. No beta, so I apologize for any or all grammar and spelling mistakes.

Aerys

Aerys sat on the dirt, sketching in the large leather-bound book sitting across his knees. Agana lay before him, resting her head on the dirt. The sun reflected beautifully off of her aquamarine and silver scales. Aerys’s eyes shifted quickly back and forth from the dragon to the book. The sound of laughter alerted the she-dragon and her rider. Agana let out a low rumble as she stretched her neck up. 

“Don’t worry Agana. We’re done for today,” Aerys smiled as he stood.

He ran his fingers over the dragon's scaled neck. She let out what sounded like a purr as she relaxed under his touch. Her emerald green eyes stared at him as he pulled away. She lowered her neck to nuzzle her head against his chest. Aerys laughed as he patted her muzzle. 

“I’m sorry, I have to go. We’ll go for a ride later,” he smiled.

He stepped back and picked up the brown leather bag on the dirt. He lifted the strap of his head to let it sit on his shoulder. Aerys rubbed Agana’s muzzle one last time before he called out to the dragon keepers. Aerys waved his hand until he lost sight of the dragon. It pained him to leave her chained up in this place, but he had no other choice. His grandfather, King Viserys, had told him the chains were mandatory. 

“Make sure she gets a good meal, please. I’ll return later on today. It’s been a few days since she’s gotten to spread her wings,” Aerys said as he walked with the dragon keepers. 

“Of course, Lord Reyne.” The dragon keepers bowed their heads.

The familiar sound of laughter caught Aerys’s attention. He followed the sound until he reached the two brown-haired boys. His younger cousins, Jace and Luke. Luke noticed him first and immediately ran to his side. The boy was jumping up and down in excitement.

“Mother is having the baby! We’ve picked an egg for them!” He exclaimed as he took hold of Aerys’s hand.

The older boy allowed himself to be pulled along. Aerys could feel the heat from the warming chamber without it even being opened. Ser Harwin was standing beside Jace, with an absentminded smile on his face as he watched the boy look at the large bronze-scaled egg sitting in the warming chamber.

“Jace, let me pick it on my own!” Luke smiled.

“You did good, Luke. I’m sure your mother will love it.” Aerys smiled as he patted Luke’s head. 

“Alright boys,” Ser Harwin interrupted, “You should get that egg to the castle.”

“Will you come with us?” Luke asked as he ran to cling to the gold cloak. Harwin had a look of uncertainty on his face.

“That would be safest,” Aerys shrugged. “It’s not every day an egg leaves the dragon pit right?”

Harwin stared at the older boy for a moment before he nodded. Aerys was no fool. He understood why the man cared so much for the two boys. He had heard the whispers that spread through the castle like wildfire. Ser Harwin also did not do a great job of hiding his fondness for Aunt Rhaenyra’s children. However, it was mostly the boy’s colors that gave it away, brown hair, brown eyes, and pale skin. Whatever Velaryon blood they had in their veins was quite. . . distant.

Bastards, people whispered. The first time Aerys had heard that, he threatened to feed the little pompous Frey boy to Agana. Who the boy’s father was did not matter to Aerys. The boys were still his family, his blood. They had dragons. If that did not prove they were true Targaryens , Aerys did not know what would. 

The boys made their way back to the Red Keep. They were escorted by Ser Harwin, a few gold cloaks, and Ser Lorent. Ser Lorent was the sworn shield of Aunt Rhaenyra. Luke was practically bouncing up and down the entire trip. He was excited to meet the newest edition of the family. He couldn’t decide which he wanted more, a brother or sister. He then began ranting about the pros and cons of both. Aerys sat quietly, simply listening to the little boy ramble. The boy thought of his brother, Robb, the current Lord of Castamere and head of House Reyne. Robb was his half-brother, born five years before him. He wondered if he had been as excited about his birth as Luke was about his new sibling. 

Aerys hoped the babe would not cause his aunt too much trouble. He understood how dangerous the birthing bed could be. His mother had nearly died giving birth to him. Aerys had wished to remain at her side, but it would not be appropriate. So he had decided to spend the day with Agana, to keep himself distracted.

The castle seemed to be even more crowded than usual. Though the crowd moved to clear a path as the boys made their way through. Aerys went first, allowing the boys to follow behind him. The group made their way to Nyra's apartments easily enough. Nyra had yet to return to her chambers, so Aerys decided to return to his bedchamber to clean himself up. 

He had to promise Luke he would return as soon as the baby was here before the boy let him go. Ser Lorent had offered to accompany him but Aerys refused. Aerys quietly walked down to his chambers. A few maids giggled and whispered amongst themselves as they watched him pass by. He smiled politely and nodded.

“I’ll never understand why they flock to you.”

Aerys flinched and turned his head. Aegon was standing on his right side, with a childish pout on his face.

“Maybe if you showed them a little more respect they’d do the same to you,” Aerys sighed.

“Respect? They’re servants. They respect me.” Aegon scoffed.

“I’m sure they do,” Aerys hummed.

Aerys sped up his pace to get away from the boy. Though Aegon was quick to follow. Aerys felt a twinge of nervousness as Aegon walked closer to him. This time their arms pressed side to side, their fingers brushed against each other as they walked. Aerys had thought of stepping away but he could not bring himself to do it. 

“What’s the matter with you? Are you ill?” Aegon asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?” Aerys scrunched his face in confusion.

“Your face is red, and your hair is starting to stick to your forehead.” 

Aerys wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “It’s nothing, I'm just worried about Nyra.”

Aegon hummed, “Yes, I heard her labors had started. Mother said she would be shocked if the child wasn’t another bast- boy.”

Aerys shot the older boy a glare, his hands clenched into fists. He picked up his pace, ignoring the Targaryen prince’s pleas to slow down. Aerys finally made it to the thick oak and iron door that shielded his bedchamber. He opened the door just enough to slip through. The young man quickly moved around the door to push it close, unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough. Aegon slammed his hand against the door to stop it. Aerys sighed and simply walked to the small desk sitting beside his bed. 

He dropped his bag onto the desk and took his seat. He ran his hand through his hair before dragging it down his face. He hadn’t gotten much sleep lately. The young man had known for days that Nyra was nearing the end of her pregnancy. Once again his worries began to overwhelm him. Surely she would be alright, this was her third child after all. Nyra had told him she had little to no trouble with Jace or Luke. So she expected this delivery to go smoothly enough. She had her handmaids and midwives to attend to her. Women who have much experience with delivering children.

“I’m sorry,” the prince apologized.

Aerys jumped slightly as he felt Aegon’s breath against his neck. He hadn’t heard the boy pull up a chair. He had been so caught up in his worries again. Aegon sat behind him, resting his head on Aerys’s shoulder. He could hear Aegon tapping his fingers against the chair, a nervous habit of his.

“I know, it’s just, you know how I feel about that. It’s bad enough they’ll have to deal with the realm whispering about them for the rest of their lives. They don’t need it from their family as well. Especially from you, they look up to you. It would crush them to hear it from you.”

“I know, it’s not their fault. I won’t say it again,” Aegon quickly sat up straight.

Aerys turned his head to see what he was doing. The older boy stood upright. He held his hand over his heart, a look of deep seriousness taking over his face.

“I swear it on my life.”

Aerys rolled his eyes but found himself laughing at the gesture. He lowered his head, not wanting to give Aegon the satisfaction of seeing him lose his composure. Aegon began laughing along with him. Aerys cleared his throat.

“How did it go with your mother this morning?” 

Aegon huffed and shuffled over to the bed, letting himself fall forward. His messy hair fanned out around his head. He buried his face deeper into the blankets.

“That bad?” Aerys questioned, as he stood to his feet.

Aegon said something but it was muffled against the blanket, so Aerys could not understand it. Aerys said nothing as he joined Aegon on the bed. Though he chose to sit with his back against the wall. After a moment of silence, Aegon rolled over with a groan. He turned his head up to look at Aerys. He scooted himself up, laying his head on Aerys’s lap. Aerys’s fingers immediately found themselves gently untangling Aegon's hair. Aegon closed his eyes with a tired sigh.

“She spent the entire time lecturing me on my duties, like always. It's like she thinks I’m some kind of idiot or something.” He scoffed.

“You're her firstborn son, mothers always expect the most of their first. It’s not fair, but that's the way it works.”

“It’s not like I asked to be born first.” He snapped, moving to sit up.

Aerys watched quietly as Aegon moved to sit at the edge of the bed. A deep silence took over the room. Aerys scooted down the bed to sit beside him.

“I’m sorry. Here I am complaining about my mother when you don’t even have one. Shit, that came out wrong, sorry...” Aegon apologized, dropping his face into his hands.

“You have nothing to apologize for Aegon,” Aerys smiled and shook his head. 

Aerys was thinking of what to say next when a loud knock came from the door. He stood quickly to see who it was. It was Ser Lorent, Nyra’s sworn shield. The older man had a smile on his face as he informed Aerys that the princess had given birth to another son. And more importantly that his aunt was alright.

Aerys dismissed the knight and quickly moved to change his clothes. He didn’t want to show up covered in dirt and charcoal. He had forgotten why he had returned to his chambers in the first place. Aegon had returned to lying on his back, glaring at the ceiling.

“I have to go, I promised Luke I would return to see the baby,” Aerys said as he finished lacing his boots. 

Aegon stretched his limbs and moved to stand up. He patted his hair down.

“You want to come? I’m sure Nyra wouldn’t mind.”

“No thank you, we need to be at the dragon pit soon. Mother wants me to stay close to Aemond. Plus, I have a few other things I need to take care of.”

Aerys let out a groan. He had forgotten all about their training today. Oh well, so he would have to be a little late.

“Alright, I’ll meet you there.”

The two nodded and headed their separate ways. Aerys wondered what Aegon was up to. He thought of asking for a moment but then decided he didn’t want to know. Knowing Aegon, it probably has something to do with some new childish game of his. Aerys shook his head and quickly made his way to Nyra’s bed chamber. As he neared, he noticed a few servants cleaning up what appeared to be a trail of blood. His heart began to race as he sped up his pace, but still being careful not to get in the servant's way. Ser Lorent was standing watch over the door and quickly moved aside to allow Aerys entry.

Aerys entered the room just as Laenor was handing the baby over to Ser Harwin. He congratulated Laenor before he moved to find Nyra. She smiled as he moved to sit by her side.

“Are you alright? I saw the blood. Should we send for a maester?” He whispered urgently.

She chuckled softly and shook her head. “I am fine, Aerys. I’m exhausted, but I’ll recover.”

He nodded in understanding, but his face must have given away his concern because she placed a comforting hand on his face. 

“I will be fine, I swear. Now, what would make me feel better is knowing you accompanied the boys to the dragon pit to keep an eye on them for me. The last thing I need is for them to get into trouble. We can visit more later alright?” Her thumb gently stroked along his face.

Aerys smiled and nodded in agreement. Laenor was trying to herd the boys together, mainly Luke, who was trying desperately to get his hands on the baby. Aerys quickly moved to help, gently pushing Luke along. He rode along in the carriage with the two Velaryon boys to the dragon pit. Luke had told him the baby had been named Joffrey. Aerys thought it was an odd choice of name, but he did not mention it. Jace seemed to be a little nervous. He was still learning how to command Vermax. Aerys could remember how he felt when he had begun training with Agana. However, he had very little difficulty with her. She learned everything quickly enough. He ruffled the older Velaryon boy’s brown hair to comfort him.

Aegon and Aemond had already arrived at the dragon pit before Aerys and the boys. Dragon keepers were awaiting them by the giant doors of the dragon pit. They followed them inside to meet with the other two princes. The dragon keepers decided that Aerys would go first. He waited eagerly for Agana to appear. The light gleamed off of her beautiful silver scales as she appeared from the darkness. She had grown much larger over the past year. Agana let out a soft growl as she moved forward.

“Serve! Halt, Agana!” Aerys quickly commanded.

The dragon came to a quick stop. She lowered her neck to press her head against his chest. He had been pushed back a few steps but he was quick to regain his balance. Aerys laughed as he rubbed his hand over the side of her face. 

“Well done.”  The old dragon keeper praised.

The sound of a bleating goat caught the dragon’s attention. She watched intently as the dragon keepers chained the goat in place, but she did not move from her spot. The dragon keepers quickly moved away from the goat. Aerys waited until they were at a safe distance before he gave the command.

“Dracarys, Agana!”

Agana quickly moved closer to the goat, raising her head back high. She let out a loud screech before a blast of flame shot from her mouth, engulfing the large goat. She scarfed it down quickly. When she was done, the dragon keepers escorted her back to her nest.

Aegon was up next, with his dragon Sunfyre. Sunfyre was truly a magnificent creature. His scales shimmered like freshly polished gold. Even the two long horns on his head seemed to shimmer. Aegon's lessons had gone by as quickly as Aerys. The two older boys had nearly mastered control of their dragons.

 Finally, it was Jace’s turn, he was the last one. Luke was still too young to control Arrax, and Aemond had yet to claim a dragon. Aerys nudged Aegon’s shoulder when the older boy let out a fake yawn. The old dragon keeper nudged the Velaryon boy forward. It was important for Jace to stay in control of his emotions. If he got too afraid it would agitate the already ill-tempered Vermax. Jace jumped back when the green dragon lunged his head forward, but he was quick to command him to halt. Which earned him praise from the old dragon keeper. Jace was practically jumping with excitement as he asked if he could give Vermax the command. There was a wide smile across his face as he turned to face the group. Aegon and Aerys nodded their heads in encouragement. 

“Dracarys, Vermax!”

The room lit up as the dragon fire consumed the goat. Aerys moved to stand beside Jace. They watched as Vermax quickly began to feast upon the roasted flesh. 

“You did well.” He praised the brown-haired boy.

Aerys turned his head as Luke began to run ahead. He moved to go after him but Aegon shook his head. Aerys listened quietly as Aegon went on about Aemond not having a dragon. He knew it was a sensitive topic for the young Targaryen. Aerys could not even begin to imagine what his life would be like without Agana. It pained him to think about it. He furrowed his brows in confusion as Aegon claimed they found a dragon for him. It did not take long to understand what was going on. 

Luke appeared from the darkness with a large pig by his side. The pig had wings tied to its body. The boys began laughing and taunting Aemond. Aerys found himself letting out a laugh, though he was quick to stifle it. The three boys ran away, leaving Aemond with the so-called pink dread. Aerys moved to stand by Aemond’s side.

“Don’t listen to them, Aemond. You still have time.”

The young Targaryen boy said nothing in return. Aerys placed a hand on his shoulder before he ran off to catch up with the other boys.

-

They had quickly returned to the castle after the dragon keepers had shown up with a very disheveled-looking Aemond. Luke and Jace waved as Ser Lorent escorted them back to their mother’s apartments. Aerys tried to wave as Aegon pulled him along. The two boys walked alone down the empty hall. Aemond had been sent to the queen as soon as they reached the castle. 

“What you did to Aemond was cruel.” 

“It was harmless fun. You laughed didn’t you?” Aegon turned his head to question him.

Aerys lowered his head to hide his smile. Aegon began to laugh. 

“That’s not the point, Aegon. It was still cruel.”

The two boys returned to Aerys’s chambers. Aerys rolled his eyes as Aegon gawked at the serving girl who brought them wine. The young woman was quick to bow and leave the room. Aerys handed a cup to Aegon, who had made himself comfortable on the bed.

“You could at least take off your boots, they’re filthy.” Aerys scoffed as he kicked off his boots.

Aegon huffed and lifted his right foot. Aerys chose not to argue and simply pulled off Aegon's boots. He dropped them to the ground and climbed onto the bed. The two boys lay beside one another quietly. Aerys groaned as he stretched out his limbs. Perhaps he could slip in a quick nap before he had to train with Ser Criston. Aegon slowly crept his hand closer to Aerys’. His fingers toyed with Aerys’s hand until the boy lifted it, allowing Aegon to intertwine their fingers. He turned his head to find Aegon already watching him.

“We should go to Essos,” Aegon said.

“Essos? What would we do there?” Aerys scoffed.

“We could do whatever we want. We have dragons, the people there would treat us like kings. We’d drink the rarest wines, dine on the finest food, and have all the beautiful women we could ever want.”

“If only it were that simple. Your mother would never let you go. She’d send Ser Criston after you.” Aerys snickered as he poked at Aegon’s side. 

The Targaryen prince swatted his hand away. “I doubt that. She’d probably cry tears of joy.”

Aerys laughed at the comment, making Aegon punch him on the arm.

“You could at least disagree!”

Aegon sighed and turned his head back towards the stone ceiling. Aerys began to think of what their life in Essos would be like. The idea did not appeal to the boy very much at all. His life and his family were here in Westeros. Wine, food, and women were not so important to him that he would abandon his family.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure she would be very distraught.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Aegon grumbled. “Forget I said anything.”

There was a sadness in Aegon’s voice as he turned his head away. His grip on Aerys’ fingers lessened and he moved his hand away. Aerys did not understand why the boy was so upset so he decided it was best to move on.

“Sunfyre has grown quite a bit,” He smiled. 

The mention of Sunfyre always seemed to perk up the elder boy’s mood, but Aegon only hummed in agreement.

“Perhaps you could join me later. Agana is growing restless, she needs to stretch her wings.”

“I would have to ask my mother first. You know how she is,” Aegon sighed.

An awkward silence filled the room as the two boys stared at the ceiling. Aerys struggled to find the right thing to say. Aegon could be very difficult when he got into one of his moods.

“So, tell me more about this street of silk. How was it?” Aerys asked.

The older Targaryen boy scoffed, but a sly smirk slowly crept onto his lips.

“Was it that good?”

“Good? Gods be good Aerys, it was riveting. The people are absolutely mad. The girls are willing to do anything for a bit of coin. You will join me next time.”

“No thank you, that’s your thing. I think I’ll stick to my boring late-night reading.” Aerys shook his head.

“It was not a request. We shall go tonight.” Aegon proclaimed as he stood up triumphantly.

Aerys’ protests fell upon deaf ears as Aegon pulled on his boots, murmuring about his plans for the evening. Aerys, deciding to stop wasting his breath, moved to sit at his desk once again.

“We shall meet tonight by Balerion’s skull.”

Aegon declared as he made his way out of the room. The thick wooden door slammed loudly behind him. Aerys let out an amused sigh as he shook his head. What has he gotten himself into now, he questioned himself. Aerys grabbed a hold of his leather bag to hang it on his chair. As he lifted it into the air the strap snapped off sending his belongings tumbling onto the floor. The clink of metal caught his attention first. He was quick to scoop the ring into his hands. His eyes trailed over the bejeweled ring for any sign of damage, before unclasping the hinges on the side.

“I apologize muna,” he whispered as his finger trailed lightly over the enameled portrait within.

The young man closed the ring and slid it back onto his finger. He had forgotten to put it back on earlier. He only took it off because it was a bit difficult to sketch with it on. A feeling of sadness began to creep into his mind. How desperately he longed to have his mother and father back. It has been a little over a decade and yet the wound remains fresh in his heart. Aerys could feel his lips begin to tremble and his eyes well up with tears. He quickly cleared his throat and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. There would be time for tears later. For now, he had to prepare for his training with Ser Criston.

-

Aerys sprinted through the halls of the castle. Trying carefully to avoid contact with the passing nobles. As he rounded a corner a woman appeared. He tried desperately to come to a halt but was too slow. Aerys was quick to grab the woman before she could fall, but the tray in her hand clattered against the stone ground.

“I apologize, Lord Reyne. It was an accident,” the young woman began apologizing profusely.

 She pressed her hands together as she prayed for mercy. Aerys shook his head. His hands gently closed around hers, as he tried to comfort her. He didn’t recognize her, Aerys assumed she must be new. The woman seemed to be around his age, maybe two or three years older. But she stood a head taller than him.

“It’s alright my lady, it is I who is to blame. I should know better than to be running around the halls at this busy hour. Come, let me help you.”

He smiled as he knelt to the ground. Fortunately, it was only cheese, grapes, and bread, so it was easy to pick up. The girl quickly knelt down and gently pushed his hands away.

“No-no my lord! I will clean it, don’t worry!”

“Nonsense, it's my fault.”

Aerys quickly snatched up as many of the fallen items as he could and placed them back in their bowls. It had almost turned into a competition. With everyone he reached for, the woman was quick to grab it first. When their work was done the woman quickly stood and bowed her head. Aerys watched as she scurried away, mostly likely back towards the kitchen. His gaze remained on her until she disappeared. He stood there for a moment longer before cursing under his breath. He was late.

By the time Aerys made it to the outer yard the rest of the boys were already swinging at dummies. Ser Criston spotted him first. Suddenly Aerys wished he hadn’t shown up at all. Ser Criston detests tardiness. The scowl on the white knight's face as he approached him filled his stomach with dread.

“Nice of you to finally show up, Lord Reyne, we feared you were unwell.”

“My apologies Ser Criston, I accidentally crashed into a maid on the way here. I had to help- my apologies.”

He silenced himself as the knight gave him a bored expression. Ser Criston nodded before nudging his hand towards the wooden swords. Aerys quickly took one before moving to the free dummy in the center. Aegon snickered as Aerys passed by him. Aerys swung his arms, striking the dummy with his wooden sword. He did this five more times before they began rotating. Aemond took his place as Aerys moved to take Jace’s place. Aegon groaned loudly as he struck the dummy with all his might. Aerys did the same. Aerys was not a fan of swords. He was adequate with a sword, but he did not believe anyone would be singing songs of his skills for years to come. His skill with a bow, however, was much better. However, sword training was a requirement. He had no say in the matter.

A quick thwack to the nape of his neck caught his attention. He turned his head to find the culprit. Aegon nodded his head ahead. Aerys followed his gaze to find two incoming maids. When they spotted the prince they quickly turned their gaze and scurried away. Aerys let out a weary sigh. He switched places with Jace again, moving away from Aegon. He gave the young boy a light pat on the shoulder as he passed. Ser Criston called for Aegon and Aemond to try and attack him. Aerys grabbed hold of Jace and Luke, gently pushing them back so they would not be in the way. 

The two boys groaned as they threw their full weight into their attacks. Yet Ser Criston evaded them all, skillfully dodging every swing.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he taunted.

The white knight quickly deflected Aegon's next blow. Sending the prince rushing forward. Ser Criston whacked the prince's bum as he stumbled. Ser Harwin called out to Jace and Luke. Aerys turned his head to listen as the gold cloak gave instructions. The boys followed his instructions, quickly lifting their swords. Aerys found himself doing the same. Ser Harwin’s gaze drifted over to Ser Criston. Aerys could feel the tension between the two men. It was no secret that there was bad blood between the two men. Though the reason why was unknown to Aerys, he knew it had something to do with Nyra. The white knight seemed to hold no love for the Princess.

“Seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention, Ser Criston.”

“You questioned my method of instruction Ser?”

“Oh, I merely suggest that method be applied to all your pupils.”

Aegon and Aemond moved to stand with the rest of the boys. Luke smiled as he tried to taunt Aegon. The elder boy merely pushed him away. The young boy chuckled to himself. Aerys gave him a nod to get back in line. His smile slightly dropped as he moved to stand still.

“Very well,” the white knight replied to the gold cloak.

“Jaecaerys, come here.”

Aerys furrowed his brows as he watched the white knight grab Jace by the collar, roughly pulling him along with him.

“You’ll spar with Aegon.”

Aegon and Aemond chuckled to themselves. Aegon quickly fetched his sword before moving forward.

“Eldest son against eldest son,” the knight announced.

“Hardly a fair match-”

“I know you’ve never seen true battle Ser, but when steel is drawn a fair match isn’t something anyone should expect.” Ser Criston quipped.

Aegon gave Jace a pat on the back as he passed him. The two boys raised their blades as Ser Criston instructed.

“Engage.”

Aegon lunged forward with a yell. Jace was quick to deflect the attacks, but he was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Aegon forced him back with every blow. The elder prince moved his hand out, pushing the dark-haired boy to the ground. Aerys cursed under his breath. 

“Come on Jace,” he whispered encouragingly.

The brown-haired boy was quick to his feet. This time it was Aegon who was pushed back with each attack. Jace swung the sword with all his might. He was fast, so fast that as soon as Aegon blocked a hit, another was right behind it. Aegon, clearly growing frustrated, moved behind a dummy. Pushing it forward so that it nearly toppled onto Jace.

“Foul play!” Ser Harwin called out as he moved to advise Jace.

“I’ll deal with him,” Ser Criston retorted as he pulled Aegon towards him.

Ser Harwin smiled as he quietly advised Jace, his gloved hand gently holding Jace by the chin.

“You!” Aegon yelled, gaining the younger boy’s attention.

Once again the two began their dance. Aegon’s attacks were unrelenting. The younger boy struggled to keep up once more. Ser Criston yelled out instructions to the elder prince. Aegon raised his leg kicking Jace in the stomach, sending the boy to the ground. The brown-haired boy was forced to try and defend himself on the ground. The white knight refused to allow Aegon to ease off. Instructing him to keep attacking.

“Enough!” Ser Harwin yelled as he grabbed Aegon, pulling him away from Jace.

The prince struggled against the gold cloak’s grasp. Ser Harwin released him, sending the prince stumbling.

“You dare lay hands on me?!” Aegon howled in anger.

The noise made Luke jump and tense up. Aerys put a comforting hand on Luke’s shoulder. He moved to stand behind his cousin. Resting his hands upon the small boy's shoulder, keeping him close.

“Aegon!” The king called, from where he usually sat, watching the boys train.

“You forget yourself Strong, that is the prince.” Ser Criston voiced.

“Is this what you teach Cole? Cruelty to the weaker opponent?” Ser Harwin said as he picked up the wooden swords.

Ser Criston dropped the wooden sword he had been holding to his feet. Ser Harwin kicked it away, refusing to bend down and pick it up.

“Your interest in the prince's training is quite unusual, Lord Commander.” Ser Criston replied. “Most men would only have that kind of devotion towards a cousin, or a brother... or a son.”

Aerys could feel his breath get caught in his throat. Cole would be so bold as to say such a thing in public? He watched the two men with uncertainty. Ser Harwin was not known for his tranquility. Nor was Ser Criston. Aerys remembered hearing the tale about how the white knight beat a man to death with his bare hands. It was on the very same night that Nyra married Ser Laenor. The gold cloak paused for a moment before he lunged towards Ser Criston. His large gloved hand connected to the knight's cheek. Aerys quickly grabbed Jace and Luke, pushing them behind his back.

Ser Harwin landed another hit, sending the white cloak to the ground. Yet he refused to relent, quickly climbing on top of the man, and continuing his assault. Ser Criston did not even put up a fight against the gold cloak. It took four other white cloaks to pull Ser Harwin off of Ser Criston. Though they struggled to hold him back.

“Say it again!” Ser Harwin roared. “Say it again!”

The lord commander had to be dragged out of the outer yard like an animal. His reputation would certainly take a heavy blow. Attacking a member of the king's guard was madness.

“What do we do now?” Luke asked, clinging onto Aerys’ sleeve.

“Don’t worry, let’s get you both back to your chambers.” Aerys smiled as he pulled the two boys along with him.

Luke still held on tightly as they walked quietly down the empty hallway. Jace had yet to speak, choosing to keep his head down. Ser Lorrent walked ahead of them, escorting them back to the young boy’s chambers. Ser Lorrent pushed open the thick oak doors. He moved out of the way, allowing the three boys to pass. Aerys gave him a nod of appreciation before the white cloak closed the doors. It was just the three of them now. They were in Jace’s room. Luke’s room was next door, but the boy wished to stay at his brother's side.

“Is Ser Harwin in trouble? What will happen to him?” Luke asked.

Aerys looked down at the small boy. He used his right hand to ruffle the boy’s curly hair. Aerys was aware of how close the boys were to Ser Harwin. Luke practically idolized the man. Ser Harwin’s father was the hand of the king, surely his punishment wouldn’t be that severe. Aerys gave him the best reassuring smile he could muster.

“I don’t know Luke, but I’m sure everything will be fine. Why don’t we go play with your toys hmm?” 

Aerys waved his hand out towards the large wooden toy chest against the wall. Luke nodded before running off. Jace remained silent, staring at his shoes. Aerys placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder breaking whatever trance he was in.

“Come on,” he whispered, attempting to coax him into following Luke.

But the boy would not move. Aerys craned his neck to try and get a good look at the boy's face, but couldn’t. He finally placed a finger under the boy's chin, forcing him to look up. The poor boy was desperately fighting back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. His trembling lips were curled upside down. Aerys kneeled on the floor to be at eye level with Jace. He placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder.

“What’s wrong Jace?” Aerys asked, as gently as he could.

“Is Ser Harwin my father?”

The young lord froze. He felt like he had been punched in the gut. His eyes glanced over to Luke, to ensure the boy had not heard the question. Fortunately, he seemed too preoccupied with his toys. At that moment it seemed like all the words he had ever learned were now lost to him. What could he say? What was he supposed to say? He supposed it was only natural for Jace to be curious. The boy was growing older. It was only a matter of time before the whispers of the court began weighing on his shoulders. He may still be young now, but he certainly was no fool. But it was not Aerys' place to confirm his suspicions.

“Ser Laenor has raised you since you were born. If that is not a father, I don’t know what is.”

“But Ser Criston said-”

 “The Velaryons have claimed you as their own. The opinions of others do not matter.”

The brown-haired boy went silent. The look on his face made it apparent to Aerys that his words did nothing to satiate the boy’s curiosity. But regardless, Jace nodded his head and moved to join Luke. Aerys remained on his knee, cursing himself in his head for his tone. He had snapped a bit after the mention of Ser Criston. It was not intentional, but the boy's questions had left him feeling like a trapped animal. He would have to apologize later.

-

Aerys used the tips of his fingers to light smudge the charcoal, giving the dragon’s wing a more blended finish. He could feel small beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. Quickly, he used his sleeve to wipe them away. The young man had been working on this piece for nearly a week now. It was proving to be one of his greatest challenges yet.

“You’ve improved.”

Startled, he jumped in his seat. Aerys turned his head to find Nyra standing behind him. He hadn’t even noticed her come in. She gave him an apologetic smile as she gently rubbed his back.

“My apologies, I thought you heard me coming.”

“No worries, I just got a little distracted with this.” Aerys shrugged.

He turned his gaze back towards the drawing. Suddenly he was hyper-aware of all the flaws, little or imagined. Aerys moved to cover it but Nyra stopped him by placing a hand over his. Her eyes trailed over every inch of the dragon.

“Is that Syrax?”

Aerys gave her a simple nod. It was the first time he had ever drawn another dragon beside his and Aegons. Agana and Sunfyre were the perfect studies. They were able to lounge about for hours on end, allowing him to capture their magnificence. Aegon would mumble and groan every time Aerys dragged him along to the dragon pit just to sit there while Aerys sketched, but he always went along anyway. Though most of the time it would end in the two of them racing through the skies on dragonback. He had countless drawings of them, but Aerys wanted to do something different. In time he hoped to capture the beauty of all the dragons of the realm for his book. Dragon lore was scarce in this world. And who better to record it, than a dragon rider? Syrax was his next target. The she-dragon had recently brought forth another clutch. Before the new additions arrived, Syrax had become even more slothful than usual. So it was easy to sit and draw her while she lounged about in the dragon pit. 

“I love it. You’ve captured her perfectly.”

Nyra pressed a quick kiss to his head.

“Though there is something else I’ve come here to discuss with you, Aerys.”

The young man nodded before turning his body to face her. She looked tired, which was understandable. The woman had just given birth to a child. Something Aerys understood was much more taxing on women’s bodies than men gave them credit for. He stood to his feet, offering her his chair. Aerys waited for her to be seated before fetching one for himself.

“What is it?” He inquired politely.

“Laenor and I have decided to leave for Dragonstone. The ship is getting ready as we speak.” Nyra spoke gently, as she caressed the back of his hand with her thumb.

“Oh,” Aerys furrowed his brow. “Alright...it shouldn’t take me long to pack my things.”

Aerys moved to stand but Nyra stopped him. He tilted his head in confusion. There was a sadness behind her violet eyes. His body stiffened under her touch, as she held his hands in hers. A sharp ache stabbed away at his chest. That familiar burning sensation reached his eyes. And he struggled to keep the frown away from his lips. He pursed his lips and turned his face to stare at the desk beside them.

“You’re not taking me with you...” he murmured.

“The king wishes for you to remain at court.”

A pregnant pause filled the air. Aerys was unsure of what to say. He did not trust his voice, too scared of possibly showing his affliction. Rhaenyra owed him nothing. She was not his mother and he was not her son. The princess was not required to take him with her. He was the king's ward, not hers.

“But that does not mean we’ll never see each other again. We’ll exchange letters, and you’re always welcome to come visit when the king permits it.”

Aerys said nothing.

“You have friends here. I understand you and Aegon are...close. Surely he would be upset if you left. You’ll be happy here, just like you’ve always been.”

“Of course,” he smiled. “I wish you a safe journey, Princess.”

Her face fell upon hearing her title come from his mouth. She opened her mouth to speak when a knock upon the door stopped her. Aerys quickly called out to them to enter. He pulled his hands away and stood to his feet. It was Elinda Massey, one of Rhaenyra’s handmaids.

“The ship is ready, Princess.”

“Thank you Elinda.”

The woman bowed before taking her leave. Aerys still refused to meet the Princess’s gaze. Instead choosing to stare at the tapestry next to his door. It was a man, pale-skinned and bare. His long white hair flowed down his body, which was entangled with a green dragon. The soft click of her shoes echoed as she moved to stand in front of him. Her fingers gently brushed his hair away from his face, before trailing down to cup his chin. That sweet sad smile returned to her face.

“This is not goodbye Aerys,” she pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

Something she had done a million times before. Yet now the kiss that had always made him feel so warm, so safe, left him with nothing but a hollow feeling in his chest. He gave a simple nod. It was all he could do to not beg her to take him. To plead with her to not abandon him in the stony confines of this castle. But alas, he would not. He was nearly a man-grown. A man of the houses Reyne and Targaryen. He must always act with poise and good deportment.

“Perhaps you would like to see the boys before we depart?”

“No,” he snapped. “I mean, the hour is growing late. You’ll have a long journey ahead of you. I’m sure you’re all anxious to get out onto the sea already.”

“Aerys,” she sighed, gazing into his iris-colored eyes. “I know-”

Another knock sounded at the door. This time it was Ser Lorent who entered.

“We must be going now Princess,” he declared.

Aerys used this time to step back, pulling away from the Princess’s grasp. The woman pursed her lips and gave the young man a small nod.

“Alright,” she whispered.

Aerys said nothing as he watched her walk away. Her white hair slightly swayed behind her as she walked. Aerys moved to call out for her, yet he could not speak. The young man moved back to his desk. Allowing himself to drop back into his seat. He was alone now.

A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading my work!

[sweetvelaryon]

lucegon oneshot

[ book ; LUCEGON ; oneshot ; Peaches ]

[ more will be posted on wttpd | wh1tefyre ]

[ this is literally Aegon giving malewife energy ]

Aegon tugged at his hoodie before rushing out of the room and knocking on his half-sister's door. Daemon opened the door with a confused look on his face. Rhaenyra poked her head and was also confused.

“where in this godforsaken place can I find peaches?” Aegon asked.

daemon chuckled.

Once the perfect peaches were acquired - a whole case of them - Aegon rushes back to his room and finds his nephew-wife. bright blue eyes light up as he places the case on the dresser and tosses a peach at his wife.

“took you a while,” he comments as he cleans the peach.

“You sent me on a peach hunt, forgive me for my lateness,” he takes his cloak off and sits on the edge as Lucerys takes a bite of the fruit. juice drip down his mouth and chin as he smiles at the fruit.

“happy?”

Luke nods.

“I wasn't talking to you,” Aegon says before lowering his head to bulging belly between them, and softly speaks “are you happy?”

“you know… we need a name,” Luke says after some time.

“Well, we don't even know if it's a boy or girl yet,” Aegon replied.

“and? we should have names ready. I only have two moons left, Egg. we need a name,” he says.

“very well. we're not naming them after the Conqueror's. I fear those names are cursed,” Aegon said as he curled up beside his wife and caressed the swelling belly.

“What about… Alyssa?”

“It honors and makes Daemon sad.”

“Jacaerys?”

“no, I'm sure your brother means well but to name our child after him is too far,” Aegon said.

“Well what names do you have?” Luke huffed.

Aegon straightened his posture, “don't laugh.”

“I won't,” Lucerys answers with juice dripping down his chin.

“if it's a boy Baelon and if it's a girl Daenys,” he answers.

“Those are perfect my love,” Lucerys says. After two peaches Lucerys managed to fall asleep with Aegon mumbling a lullaby in high valyrian. his valyrian was not perfect when he and Luke were first married. Daemon and rhaenyra scold him for it.

“how do you consider being a Targaryen when you can't even speak our Mothers tongue?!”

Lucerys taught him and made him have lessons with Maester Gerardys. he thought they were redundant but when he overheard Luke and Jace having a conversation in valyrian and he couldn't understand a single word. the next day he was up bright and early to learn. now they have their own secret conversations at council meetings when their family doesn't show. Alicent would often side eye them because Aegon is cool as can be and Luke’s cheeks are flushed red. He now sings or more so hums lullabies and speaks to the growing babe.

🦪

Luke wakes up finding his side empty. He dresses in a dark amber dress and starts searching for his uncle-husband.

“no! no! no! that's not the color I picked!” Aegon yells from a chamber next to theirs. Luke frowns as he enters the room seeing it is being reconstructed.

“my prince -”

“no, no, I said sky blue, okay? it's almost pearlescent. like Arrax! have it redone,” he orders. Luke raises his eyebrows at him as a man leaves quickly with a small bow.

“What's going on?” he asked.

Aegon smiles as his violet eyes lay on him, he walks towards him and kisses his lips. “I'm having the baby room made. it's right next door and I'm going to have them blow this wall out for a door to be made,” he explained.

“a couple months too late, no?”

“Well the crib is all in the hands of your grandsire Corlys. finding a dragon egg is in the hands of Daemon. I'm in charge of making sure all toys and clothing is ready,” he adds.

Luke smiles as Aegon stands in front of him, his hands on his hips, silver hair a mess of curls, “fatherhood is changing you.”

“Well I plan to not be like my father,” he responded.

He steps forward and takes Aegon's hand in his and rests them on his swelling belly. a small kick could be felt making Aegon flinch.

“How dare you?” he softly asked.

“I think he would rather sleep in our room when he's born,” Lucerys said.

“He will but he'll need his own room,” Aegon replied.

another kick.

“I think our child… hates you?” Luke teased.

“No, I think he's just too attached to his muña which I can't blame him too much for,” Aegon leans forward and kisses Lucerys with much passion before a knock on the door breaks them apart.

“The Lord Hand would like to see you both,” Ser Criston announced.

🦪

pushing open the doors to the council room Aegon and Luke sit in their respective chairs. Daemon and Rhaenyra sit across from them along with the Princess Rhaenys. there's tension in the air that Luke refuses to let destroy his good mood.

“The princess rhaenys has news from Driftmark,” Otto says sitting in his chair. Viserys weakly nods for his cousin to speak.

“Lord Corlys has fallen ill after the battle of Stepstones. before he gave way to the fever he sent me one last request. That Lucerys be his regent until he comes out of it,” she announced.

“As you can see princess rhaenys, prince lucerys is in no condition to be sailing to rule over Driftmark. What of Vaemond Velaryon?” Otto asked.

Rhaenys did not look at the Hand, just at the King, “Viserys,” her voice was too soft for the council's liking, “Corlys asked for this. Allow Lucerys to rule. He does not need to sail; he can fly over. You've had Luke stuck in this Keep learning of Driftmark. it's time he takes his place even if it's just as regent.”

“Lucerys?” his mother whispered.

The boy looked over at his mother, meeting her violet gaze. Lucerys nibbles on his bottom lip before looking over at Aegon. His husband reaches over and holds his hand.

“If Luke goes to Driftmark he has my support and I will go with him,” Aegon announced.

this causes Otto to stand, “you are needed here at Kings Landings.”

“no, I'm not needed here,” Aegon responded looking up at his grandsire, “I haven't been in meetings unless it's with Lucerys. Now my husband is needed at Driftmark. I will be flying with him.”

“Very well, son,” viserys says. it catches Aegon off guard because never had Viserys referred to him that way. Luke noticed the slight change in his facial expression and tightened his hold on his hand. “you are relieved to fly to Driftmark.”

🦪

two moons into Luke's regent and he was doing incredible work. Driftmark now housed Meleys, Sunfyre, Arrax, and Seasmoke. Although the sailors didn't trust Aegon, they showered and showed much love to their Pearl of Driftmark and the future babe.

“baby!” Luke yelled out of his chambers.

Aegon came in holding a mango and a peach, “yes my siren?”

“Help undress me and get in the bath with me,” Luke says, taking the peach and biting it. He places the mango on the table nearby with herbs and scent oils before helping unlace the dress. He carefully pulls the strings and the blue dress hits the floor. He helps Luke in and he quickly strips to join. Luke grunts as he shifts uncomfortably in the water.

“What's wrong? Is the water too hot?” Aegon asked as he rubbed his back.

“I've been feeling sharp pains all day. it's annoying,” he groans.

“How frequent are they?” Aegon asked, his voice slightly quivering.

“oh fuck… it's the babe isn't it?” Luke asked as another sharp contracting hit him.

“I need to get the maester-”

“no! no you are not leaving me alone!” Luke yelled, grabbing his hand.

“You need a maester!” Aegon argued.

“We can do it ourselves!” he shouts, feeling pressure build between his legs.

Aegon knew deep down Lucerys feared something happening like his grandmother Aemma. he wrapped his arms around his waist pulling his back to his chest. Aegon luckily had asked maester Gerardys many questions in how to help with the labor in case a situation would arise and it would be just the two of them. now his learning would be put to the test.

“deep breaths and when you feel a contraction push,” Aegon told him. as Luke did as he was told and gripped onto his husband like it was his lifeline. In a way it was. if something went wrong the decision to save his life or that of their unborn child would be in Aegon's hand. The thought scared him but the feeling of the baby's head pushing out broke those thoughts. in a swift move he pushed the rest of the babe's body and held their child on his chest. no cries echoed in the room and the water in the tub turned redder. He didn't know if he was breathing. if the babe was breathing. hell, if Aegon was breathing. for a moment Luke believed they were now holding the corpse of their child. The sound of baby cries filled their room a second later.

“oh thank fucking gods!” Aegon yelled as Luke softly chuckled and ran his hands up and down the babys back. “oh shit,” he comments.

“what? what? what?” Luke carefully pulls his baby into his arms to take a good scan. all ten toes and fingers. no missing limbs or deformity. a baby with green eyes and silver hair stared back at him.

“we're gonna have to try again,” Aegon says.

“why?” Luke asked.

“I want one with brown hair. I thought your genes were supposed to be strong,” he says.

“Oh you big baby,” Luke rolled his eyes and pressed kisses to the temple of the baby. “It's a girl, Aegon.”

“So… baby Daenys?” he asked with a grin on his lips.

“Baby Daenys Velaryon.”

Bonus Scene

Lucerys was practically laying down in the tub with his swelling belly sticking out of the milky water. Aegon had a lemon cake on his belly using his fingers to eat it and Luke did the same.

“I don't think he likes being used as a table,” Luke comments as he sucks his finger clean of the creamy foam of sugar.

“he'll be fine. if he's anything like his muña he will be pleased to know he's helping us out,” Aegon replied, kissing the belly. Jacaerys walked in on the scene and immediately left to tell Baela he needed to have her pregnant. the quicker the better.

[closed-third-eye]

"also, luke not going to driftmark only reaffirms the "rumors" that he's a bastard. i mean look at baela in ep 8 - wearing the velaryon colors, at rhaenys's side - that should be luke! but he's hiding behind his mom dressed in targ red and black - looking nothing like velaryon. "

This is like the show equivalent of alicent wearing a green dress and in the end it means nothing since all her activism against rhae was based on the word of a dying man and the fact rhae slept around (once). This is the conclusion only a very stupid subset of people can come up with, like team green fandom for example, show alicent fans

Let's ignore neither vaemond and rhaenys, currently driftmarks oldest residents, aren't wearing the colours of velaryons, or the fact jace and luke are wearing grey/black like corlys, vaemond and rhaenys

Hiding behind his mother? Like baela is standing beside rhaenys? Her guardian? Just making things up to belittle lucerys, team green is ridiculous. You want to talk about hiding there is aegon, the king a targaryen dragon rising king acting nothing like a dragon hiding behind his mother, so yeah I do believe in some places there's symbolism of unworthiness and it's not very subtle at all, but let's ignore that since that doesn't suit the agenda

Him not being fostered by velaryons also does not matter since that's very much a norm in westroes weren't ned and Brandon away from winterfell In their formative years? This is such a stupid conclusion to come up with literally doesn't matter when all of the show is written badly and takes away the fact lucerys's training can, and in books was absolutely held at dragonstone itself, he was a squire who know if for a velaryon Knight either way he was preparing. That's also like saying laenor isn't suited to be lord since he spent remaining life after marriage at Kings landing or dragonstone, when they all travelled back and forth very frequently in books. His resident changed because rhaenyra is in higher position and her supports her but it's no "symbolism"

Its stupidly written show where rhaena, a highborn lady, is wearing the same clothes for 4 to 5 days you need to be serious.

[madame-fear]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

[ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟔 | 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 ]

— summary : [ — ✧ request ] you try to come to terms with your betrothed, but sometimes, it takes a time to fully recover from disappointment. — word count : 3.6k

— pairing : lucerys velaryon x betrothed!reader — genre : slight angst at the unrequited love, maybe. in general terms, fluff.

ೃ⁀➷ chapter one ೃ⁀➷ chapter two ೃ⁀➷ chapter three ೃ⁀➷ chapter four ೃ⁀➷ chapter five ೃ⁀➷ chapter six

As you returned from the short trip, the ship that had set sailing to take you to a nearby village across the Narrow Sea moored over the harbour outside of the Dragonstone castle.

With the young Velaryon Prince by your side and the bouquet of flowers he had gifted you previously tightly against your chest, you walked out of the ship just to make your way towards the entrace of the castle. There, his mother Rhaenyra awaited for both of you with a warming grin.

“Glad to see both of you had a lovely trip.” she seemed like a proud mother, vastly smiling as she noticed the way you joyfully gripped on the bouquet of flowers. She was a proud mother, being fully aware she raised her boys to be proper gentlemen, and treat girls as they deserved to be treated. Luke sheepishly smiled back, holding back a small little crimson fluster. “We did, Your Grace. It was a delightful new experience for me.” you bowed out of respect, before responding.

Walking both by her side, you entered the rocky castle. Her hands were placed one on top of the other in front of her body, as she briefly turned her head to look at her secondborn son. “Luke, you should already get going to your Valyrian lessons. Jace is surely waiting for you.” without hesitation, Luke nodded in agreement, even if he wished he could walk by your side for a little longer.

Before leaving, he gazed at you with a timid grin. “Meet you later, then, (y/n). Happy to know you had a nice trip.” he murmured a bit awkwardly, returning him a shy smile as well. “Me too. Luke. Meet you later.” you replied, as he made his own way towards the Main Hall where he usually had Valyrian lessons alongside Jacaerys. Of course it was time for him to take his daily lessons, but that was also more of an excuse for Rhaenyra to spend more time with you, her daughter-in-law.

“I must admit, I am very delighted to see how both of you have grown fond over each other in such a short period of time.” after a few moments of silence after Lucerys left, she finally spoke. You had exactly no idea why both of you were casually strolling around the large halls of Dragonstone, but you had no complaint. “And so I am, Your Grace. Lucerys always finds a way to ease my nerves from my... Upcoming wedding with Jacaerys. He knows what to say, and what to do to comfort me.”

A grin appeared at the corner of her lips at your honesty. Even if the betrothal was far better than what you imagined it would be through the entirety of your life, you were still reluctant of the idea of being married to someone that you deeply loved, while he is head over heels in love with another woman, and you had to pump out heirs for him. And though Rhaenyra most likely had no idea about the situation, she was understanding of how you felt.

“I once was your age, my sweet girl. I understand how overwhelming betrothals can be.” she replied, only to then lower her gaze softly towards you, as you turned your head to stare at her. “But rest assured, my love, you have nothing to worry for. Jace knows how to treat girls such as yourself, he would never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.” if only she knew, you thought to yourself.

“Besides, not only you already have our deepest respect and protection from House Targaryen and House Velaryon; but as well from our allies.” both of you abruptly stopped your steps, standing in the middle of the halls as you turned to stare at one another. “The realm will surely be delighted to have you as future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and you will be excellent.” her hand went to caress your cheek tenderly, making you timidly smile at the warmth that irradiated from her.

“You will be an excellent Queen, mother, and Wife, I can already tell.” she definitely knew how to provide comfort, just like Lucerys did, even if you weren’t as eager about your marriage as you previously were before you comfronted Jace about his crush on Lady Baela. At least, you had the respect and love of two of the greatest Houses in Westeros, and a lovely mother-in-law.

A thin string of silence loomed between both of you, after you muttered a quiet “thank you, Your Grace.” at her kind words. “And speaking of Jacaerys, he’s been looking for you. He informed me, he wished to speak privately with you.” a discreet sigh escaped from you, knowing where the conversation with him would go. As much as you wished to continue ignore him, what Luke previously told you echoed through your head, and he was right. If you kept pushing him away, or avoiding one another, the day of your wedding ceremony would be intensely awkward, and your marriage would be unbearable. And not only that, but you couldn’t make up a proper excuse to avoid him in front of his mother.

“What for?” you inquired, lifting one of your eyebrows curiously. You knew what he would probably talk about. “I’m not sure, love. The best I can offer you to do, is take you to him and find out.” she was truly clueless of the discussion you had with her eldest son, but you returned her comforting smile, and nodded as if nothing had happened. And as much as you dreaded the conversation, you’d eventually have to do as Luke suggested you to do: become friends.

Another sigh escaped. A small moment of silence grew, being absorbed in your own thoughts, before replying. “Very well, then. Take me to him, Your Grace.”

With gentle footsteps, and by Rhaenyra’s side, you entered the grand Main Hall of Dragonstone. The High Valyrian-speaking voices coming from both Princes echoed through the quiet room, along your approaching footsteps.

Some exhaled huffs out of frustration were heard frequently coming from Jace, feeling a bit vexed for not getting some words plus the pronunciation right. The boys’ sight was raised to both Rhaenyra and yourself, the maester that taught them Valyrian turning around as well, bowing his head down out of curtsy. “(y/n), there you are! I was looking for you everywhere.” jace spoke, shifting his attention on you now. You smiled at him briefly, as his coffee eyes curiously went down to the bouquet of flowers you had never dropped. He had an idea of whom might have gifted them to you.

“Your mother told me.” you retorted, as the Prince approached you to stand in front of you, and Rhaenyra. “You wished to discuss a personal matter, I heard?” in response, he nodded at you, turning to stare at his mother a bit feebly afterwards. “Yes, and I was hoping we could be excused and discuss it privately.” of course, Rhaenyra had absolute no idea about what was going in between the two of you. You both played pretend along just enough to properly hide the awkward tension that loomed between you in front of his mother.

Rhaenyra sighed, and gave him a single bow down with her head as in approval of his request. “You may be excused, and Luke will be as well. While you privately discuss your matters, you will take a break from your lessons, and then you may continue.”

“Understood, mother. Thank you.” jacaerys nodded, quietly thinking her. The eldest Velaryon extended his arm for you to take, and a bit reluctanty, you placed your hand around his arm so Jace could guide you to wherever place he wished to go as you spoke. And as expected, the second you left the Main Hall, you knew he had began to walk you to the gardens of Dragonstone, being fully aware of your liking for flowers.

During the walk, the tense atmosphere between the both of you was enough to be cut with a knife, if you wished. It had been a silent walk, where the only thing that you could both hear was your footsteps that echoed through the large halls. You had no idea where to initiate the conversation, or how to apologise to him for the discussion you had the previous night, as you insisted on your argument of having nothing to apologise for.

“Lovely flowers.” he spoke first, complimenting the bouquet, lowering his gaze towards it. You gave him a tiny grin. “May I ask, where ymhave you bought the bouquet? Or who gave it to you?” your eyes remained on the path, beginning to reach the vast gardens of Dragonstone. For the first time during the entire walk, you lifted your sight to stare at him.

“Lucerys gifted it to me.”

Your answer was cold and straight, still being intoxicated with both bittersweet and slightly angst feelings, wishing you could just poof away from the situation. Jace had pressumed Luke had gifted the bouquet to you, having noticed how his brother always tries to spend most of his time with you, but wasn’t certain about such assumption. Your answer confirmed it already. His lips turned into a straight line for a moment.

“I see. I’m delighted to know you befriended Luke.” he replied, rather awkwardly.

Both of you reached the gardens, entering them. The chirping of the birds was faintly heard, as well as the leaves rustling from the cool breeze. The sweet scent from the flowers was calming, and rather tranquil. A place you often used to think by yourself.

At his last statement, you had no response. You had no response, solely because you were immersed in your own thoughts, planning a way on guiding the conversation of befriending one another. For an arranged married you initially were keen of, only to know your betrothed fancied another Lady, the only escape was becoming friends as much as you both suffered and despised it.

Another awkward moment of silence was thread between the two of you. “Jacaerys,” you finally spoke, swallowing your own pride slightly. In response, Jace curiously hummed, lowering his gaze to you as you glided your fingertips across a recently bloomed flower.

“I apologise for all that happened last night.” you stopped walking, as you began to play with the stem of a flower, admiring the way it was shaped, and the vivid colours the flower held. The eldest Prince swallowed, awkwardly having his lips as a thin line. Truth to be told, you weren’t supposed to be the one apologising, and he was well aware of that. But just like you, he had no idea how to form the proper words to apologise.

“What for, dear? You have nothing to apologise for, in any case-”

“I apologise for trying to control the way you feel towards Lady Baela.”

You gulped, moving your eyes to stare at him. He was surprised at your words. Before he could reply anything, you continued. As frustrated as you still were with him, a part deep inside of you was still disappointed, and even, a bit saddened from the heartbreak you suffered.

“Last night I felt overwhelmed. I was overwhelmed at the fact that, being head over heels for you, I constantly craved for your attention. I did everything to impress, surprise you, or try to spend time with you... Only to know, you always spent time with her rather than with your future Wife.”

A lump in your throat formed, trying to pause for a moment before you continued. “During this short time I avoided you, I realised that it was useless to have shouted at you. You can’t just change the way you feel for someone.” from the stem, you took the flower you were caressing, placing it inside the bouquet with the rest of the flowers. Your hand was once again wrapped around his arm, allowing you to be walked across the garden.

“I can’t change the way your heart feels for her. If you already fancy someone, you could never be romantically interested in someone else... Especially, if you met that someone else for a mere political arrangement.” his coffee eyes never left your face. As much as he was fully aware he should be the one actually apologising, a part of him was comforted by the fact that you understood his situation.

“Since our wedding ceremony is in a few full moons, avoiding one another will be rather unconvenient. Not only our wedding ceremony will be notoriously awkward, and our marriage rather insufferable.” a small chuckle spurred from him at the words you chose to use. “Yes, indeed. You’re quite right with that.” he replied, as both of you continued to walk around. “The best we could do, is properly befriend one another. Right?”

The word “befriend” when it came to Jacaerys and you still felt off. You weren’t yet fully satisfied with the idea, but you knew it would take you some time. You sighed, nodding. “Yes, befriend one another. Our betrothal will be merely for the conveniences of our Houses and the realm by providing heirs, and if we wish so, we can be with whomever we truly want.” you stared up at him, “You can be with Lady Baela, and I will be with anyone else I desire.”

“Sounds good enough for me.” but not yet for you. You sighed his answer off, and gave him a brief side smile. “Glad to know that. I hope we can make it work by simply staying as friends.” with a gentle movement, you released your hand from his arm. You still held the bouquet of flowers tightly against you, as if your life depended on it. And you had no intention of placing it somewhere else, just yet.

With gentle footsteps, you got ahead of him, making him become slower in his walking pace out of curiousity. You stopped in your pace, standing a few inches away from it. “I’m glad we came to an agreement with one another to be friends, Jacaerys.” with a gliding motion of your fingers across the flowers, you raised your sight to him as you had been staring down at them.

“But I hope you know, the disappointment still hurts. And it will for quite a while until I forget about what I once truly felt for you.”

His lips were partly open to answer, beginning to make his way towards you, but you interrupted him by abruptly walking away going back inside the castle, leaving him to stand there. It was going to be complicated, but it was only fair for you to feel in such way.

♡ taglist : ♡

@jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @tickle-euphoria @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @dopepersonacloudllama @phantasyy @tasty-nutella @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @feliuuuksks @visenyacore @hannaroktj @cosmic-aura @juliavilu1

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (7)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: Say the one thing I've been wanting

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Smut. Aemond finally gets it wet lol. Dom!Aemond. Oral (f!receiving), female masturbation, breeding kink (because of course Aemond wants her pregnant asap), name calling, dirty talk. Warnings aren't exhaustive. Proceed with caution.

This one... ended up hella long, I'm not gonna lie. 2.5k words. Here's what I listened to for vibes and inspiration!

"Robert Tyrell is nowhere to be found," the King proclaims as morning drags into early afternoon. He sits on his throne, looking down at his family assembled before him. "His family offers no help, claiming their son simply vanished. We can't have a wedding without a groom, can we?"

You sit with your head down, feeling every bit as pathetic as you look. Robert must have heard about you and Aegon. That's the only thing you can come up with. Why else would he just disappear as he has? He knows his duty as well as you know yours.

"I'm sorry, Mother," you whisper. "This is all my fault."

"Nonsense." Rhaenyra's voice is sharp as Valeryian steel when she speaks. She holds her head high, allowing no weakness to shine through. "Clearly this was an unfit match."

Aegon scoffs. "Unfit. Cursed. Take your pick, sister."

"People are expecting a grand wedding." Alicent glares at Aegon from her spot beside her father. "What should we do, your majesty?"

Aemond steps forward, hands clasped behind his back. He shoulders are squared and he speaks with all the assurance of a second son. "I will take Robert Tyrell's place if it pleases the King."

The room erupts into chaos in an instant. Jace and Luke are yelling obscenities while Daemon and Rhaenyra plead with Viserys not to listen. Aegon screams at his brother, his throat going raw and his hands shaking with the effort of not hitting Aemond.

And you?

You take a step back from all of it, from all of them, and simply watch it all unfold.

Helaena steps beside you and loops her arm through yours. "They'll destroy themselves."

"Over a fucking wedding of all things." You can't hide the bitterness in your voice. "I'm sorry. About Aegon."

"Don't be. He's more of a brother to me than a husband. I like it that way." She tilts her head and looks up at you. "You were never going to marry Robert Tyrell."

You don't quite know what to say in response to that, so you pat her hand and say nothing.

"Enough!" Viserys' voice carries over the loud din of your family. He looks exhausted from the effort of being that loud. "I've decided Aemond will take the place of our runaway groom. Maybe this match will teach you all the importance of family and getting along."

Helaena gives you a look that seems to say see? I told you, but you aren't looking at her. You're eyes are glued to Aemond and the way he stares straight back at you. When you were younger you always joked that it seemed like he could look straight through a person's soul. Now you aren't certain it was actually a joke. Even with one eye missing it still feels like he's tearing the very essence of you open layer by layer as he stares at you.

Eventually, you find your voice and manage to say, "if it's the King's will then so be it."

"The children have more sense than the adults." Viserys stands, breathless and in pain. "Get these two to the sept before anyone else disappears."

The next few hours of your life are a blur. You couldn't remember most of it if you tried. Very few things manage to stick, but you can recall the anger on Aegon's face. He burns righteous and villainous in your mind. And your mother... she's devastated as she watches you dance with Aemond. Jace and Luke don't fair much better.

Yet, through it all, Aemond's face is what stands out the most. Because of course it does. Your new husband never leaves your side, his hands lingering at your waist or the small of your back as people celebrate around you. He's charming and lively beside you, but you can sense the burning just below the surface of his skin. His expression could almost be considered victorious as he looks at the assembled crowd. It confuses you and you try to store the thought away for later, but then Aemond looks down at you and presses his lips to yours.

He's soft and determined. Dornish wine lingers on his lips, but he's nowhere close to drunk.

You're his.

He succeeded.

Well, almost.

You will be after-

"The bedding ceremony!" Aegon slurs the words, taking a long drink from his cup before grabbing you by the arm. His grip is punishing. His fingers dig into your skin so painfully you'll be surprised if there aren't bruises in the morning.

There are jeers and whistles from the crowd as men and women surge forward. You're quickly separated from Aemond, a group of lords headed by Aegon dragging you to Aemond's chambers. They jostle and paw at the crushed velvet of your white dress. The fabric gives easily. The night air is cool against your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body.

In your panic you search for your mother, but you can't find her over Aegon's towering form. He leers down at you, wine stained lips lifted in a sneer. He's never looked at you with so much disdain before. It turns your stomach and leaves your blood running cold.

"Don't touch," Aegon snaps at some lord on your left as you feel fingertips brush against your arm. "Think you're good enough for a princess, Bolton?"

You don't hear the young man's reply. You don't hear much of anything honestly. It takes everything in you to pretend you aren't naked in front of the entire court, being escorted to your new husband's chambers by your uncle. You're feet stumble over the granite floor while your mind goes fuzzy. You can almost pretend this isn't happening.

Almost.

Until a set of familiar dark wooden doors are flung open in front of you and you come chest to chest with Aemond.

With your husband.

Women tug at his clothes, but he bats their hands away with a practiced ease that makes you wonder how many times he's done that before. He doesn't take his eyes off of you as he dismisses everyone.

Only Aegon lingers.

"Shall I test her maidenhood for you, brother? Will you believe me when no blood comes from between those pretty thighs?" Aegon wraps his fingers around your wrist and tugs you closer to him, knee nudging your thighs apart as he presses up into your core.

Aemond observes him with a bored gaze. "If you're finished causing trouble, I believe you have your own wife to tend to."

Aegon's face flushes and he hisses something under his breath in Valeryian that you can't quite make out. He releases you with one last glare leveled at Aemond before storming out. Presumably to his own chambers. Or maybe Flea Bottom.

You know it isn't your problem- it never has been- but you still feel you're heart tug painfully when you think about him drowning his sorrows in alcohol and whores.

"Did they hurt you?" Aemond's voice snaps you from your depressing thoughts and you turn your attention to him fully.

You rub your arm. "Only Aegon. But isn't that always how it goes?"

"He won't bother you any longer."

"You sound confident, uncle."

"I am... wife."

Aemond's expression turns fond when he says the word, his one good eye sparkling with mirth in the firelight. You hum softly and your gaze drifts to his other eye. Briefly, you wonder if you'll ever be brave enough to see what you and your brothers did. You aren't sure. Maybe one day you'll be brave enough to face the consequences fully, but for now you simply reach out and touch the jagged scar covering his face.

"I'm sorry," you say simply. It's not enough, but it's what you can think to offer right now. "I'm so sorry, Aemond."

Aemond's muscles tense instinctually when you touch his scar, and he has to fight the impulse to shove your hand away. But that's no way to start a marriage, is it? So he stands still as stone while your fingertips on his skin starts to feel less foreign. He lets you apologize to your heart's content.

"The past between us means little to me now," Aemond says when your babbling slows. "It's our future I'm concerned with."

You blink, surprised to hear him say that considering how antagonistic his relationships with your brothers is. "Oh?"

He smiles, one hand cupping the back of your head as his other grips your waist and pulls you flush against him. His lips press to yours in what starts as a gentle kiss. He works you up slowly, nipping at your bottom lip and teasing his tongue against your own. You melt into him with each stroke of his tongue.

"Fuck," He moans out as he pulls away.

You simper out his name and a quiet please as you press closer to him, growing desperate for more despite any previous misgivings. Aemond's hand moves from the base of your skull to your throat. His fingertips dig into your pulse point in warning.

"Don't," he tells you. "I've waited for this. For you. I'll take my time and you'll thank me for it, understood?"

You nod pathetically, his words sending a wave of arousal through you.

His hand drops from your hip to your ass and he smacks you once before turning you around a softly pushing you towards the bed. "On your back. Spread your legs for me."

You do as he says, flushing with heat at the way he licks his lips while taking your body in.

"You're beautiful," he mutters almost to himself. "Better than I ever imagined."

"You've imagined me naked?" You know you should probably be upset, but all you can manage to feel is a selfish sort of pleasure that he's dreamed of you before.

"Many times, lovely girl." Aemond kneels on the bed and puts each of your legs over one of his shoulders. His lips are wet and plush as he kisses his way from your calf to your thigh, nose nudging the soft curls of your cunt.

"What else have you imagined?" You're breathless when you speak.

Aemond smirks, enjoying the way you squirm in his grip. "Would you like to hear about one of my favorite dreams?"

"Y-yes."

He hums in reply, teeth digging into the skin of your thigh. "It's you. Just you. You're alone in your chambers, night shift sticking to your skin as you sweat in the summer air. It's so hot you can't take it and strip naked. Your hands find their way to your cunt, bringing you pleasure but no relief because deep down you know only I can save you."

Aemond's eye flickers from your hand to your cunt and he says, "let me see if it's like my dream. Touch yourself for me."

Your hand is shaky as you move it down your body. Aemond eats up every second eagerly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "That's it. Fuck, what a good girl you are."

"Aemond..." You say his name breathlessly, sighing in relief when your fingers meet your clit.

He watches closely as you toy with yourself, fingers dipping in and out of your wet core, arousal shining on your skin. You've never enjoyed getting yourself off, always preferring Aegon's help, but with the way Aemond watches you so intensely you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge of absolute pleasure.

"Don't cum," he tells you when he notices your movements getting sloppy. "Not without my cock inside you."

Aemond presses your legs back so your knees meet your shoulders. You readjust to the new position, looking down as he teases you with the tip of his cock. He's bigger than Aegon. Thicker too. His tip is flushed a pretty pink and you've never wanted something inside you more.

"Aemond, please," you cry out. You're wet and throbbing and desperate and so, so close.

His expression darkens. He had no plans to make you beg tonight, but it sounds so pretty that he just can't help but to switch tactics. You want his cock? You can beg for it like that desperate whore you are.

Aemond buries his face between your thighs, lapping at your juices. His tongue swirls around your clit before dipping between your folds and coaxing more arousal out of you. You scream, a sob wrenching itself out of your chest as your fingers slip into his hair.

"Please! Please, please, please!" You're pleading as loudly as you can. "Aemond, please!"

He pulls away just enough to look at you, his fingers taking over for his mouth. "Please what? Use your words and maybe I'll give it to you."

"N-no..."

"No?"

You let out another sob, tears of frustration pricking at your eyes. You're so fucking close.

And Aemond can tell.

The bastard.

"Aemond, please, I want..." You moan when his long fingers brush a spot inside you that has your walls flutter around him.

"You want lots of things don't you, lovely girl?" Aemond presses reassuring kisses to your face. "Focus. What do you want the most?"

"Y-you... inside me..."

"I am inside you."

"Your cock! I want your cock inside me! Please!"

Aemond's breath hitches. The only outward sign of his self control slipping from his grip. Hearing those dirty words come from your mouth makes his cock twitch in anticipation. You're such a good girl for him. He kisses you deeply as he presses his cock inside you, swallowing your moans with his tongue.

"Gods, yes," he moans when he's fully inside you. "You're cunt was fucking made to take me. I knew it."

You're crying now, feeling overwhelmed and overstimulated as he thrusts inside you. You swear you can feel him deep in your stomach. Maybe it's the angle. Maybe it's the fact that he's just that big. Whatever it is, you find yourself thanking the gods for it as he brushes up against that spot from earlier with each stroke of his cock inside you. You say his name over and over and Aemond thinks it's the sweetest prayer he's ever heard.

"You take it so well," Aemond praises as he brushes hair from your face. He watches as your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips. They'll be so full when he has his baby inside you. And fuller still when your milk comes in.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He wants you round and heavy with his child and he wants it now.

"Aemond," you moan out his name as you grasp his forearms, nails digging into his arm. The coil that's been building in your belly snaps and your eyes flutter shut as the orgasmic high washes over you. Your body turns to pudding and you sink further into the mattress.

Aemond watches your expressions with rapt attention, his own orgasm taking over when your walls clench around his cock. He slumps down on top of you and welcomes your absentminded petting.

"We're married," you say as if the realization just hit you.

"As we should be. You're meant to be mine."

You don't know what to say to that declaration, so you say nothing and hope the morning won't be awkward. You'd hate to lose Aemond a second time.

[anatay004]

ᴊᴀᴄᴀᴇʀʏꜱ ᴠᴇʟᴀʀʏᴏɴ | ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ɪ ᴅɪᴇ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜱɪx)

Summary: After a blissful night of peace, war eventually breaks through Dragonstone when the king dies and your marriage with Jacaerys is suddenly at risk. He will not let war come you.

(A/N): So, sadly, this is the last part of the Love Me Not series! But I’ll be posting a longer version on AO3 soon this week, however, the story will be in depth and with an OC.

ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ

IT WAS THE sound of deafening screams that jolted you awake the next morning. Instinctively, you turned to your side and reached for Jacaerys, but his side of the bed was empty. You sucked in a breath, the breeze that ripped through the windows peppered goosebumps over your naked skin and you shivered at the cold.

Where was he?

Then you heard the screams again.

You climbed out of bed and changed at once.

You rushed through the corridors, heart hammering against your chest as your sister's screams strained your ears. You were disoriented, unaware of the trouble that was slithering within the walls of the castle as Rhaenyra began to birth her daughter.

"Sister," Rhaenyra hissed out when your frame stumbled into her line of vision. You swallowed the knot in your throat, the sight of her crimson nightgown and strangled moans made you falter in your spot. She was not ready to give birth. "Our father has passed."

Your head reeled.

Oh, you thought.

Somewhere in the haze, her screams broke into your reverie again. You blinked, but your muscles could not move, the news push forward an unmoored plague that pestered your reason. You were standing in the room, but the light of humanity dimmed in your irises and you were nothing more than a shadow as she screamed for the babe to come out – nothing more.

"My love," Jacaerys' voice made you flinch, but his touch comforted you almost immediately as he anchored his hands on your arms tenderly.

"The greens have repudiated the succession and claimed the iron throne." Rhaenyra continued, a cry of pain clogged in her throat.

Your skin pricked with goosebumps.

"Aegon has been crowned King."

Jacaerys' fingers tightened around your arms.

"What is it to be done about it?" Jacaerys spat, a heated tone wrapped around his words.

"Nothing yet!" Rhaenyra cried.

You exhaled sharply. "Fuck..."

"Where is Daemon?" Jacaerys demanded, his hands dropped to his sides, fisting in anger.

"I don't know," Rhaenyra answered. "Gone to madness, gone to plan his war."

Jacaerys clenched his jaw.

"Jace..." You began, but he dismissed you and made to leave the room at once to look for Daemon. You knew the war was coming, it lingered in your skin the moment he let go of you and you shivered at the sudden coldness.

Beside you, Lucerys searched for your hand.

"Jace," Rhaenyra berated, making your husband stop in his tracks momentarily. "Whatever claim remains to me, you are now its heir."

You swallowed hard.

You were to be queen soon.

"Naught it is to be done but by my command."

Jacaerys remained silent, a searing heat flashed across his eyes as he looked back at his mother – he was furious, you'd never seen him like this before. He eventually nodded and walked out of the room without bothering to look back.

Luke squeezed your hand in comfort before following his brother.

You followed his frame with sad eyes.

Your father was dead.

And so will many others soon.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

You were there when Rhaenyra birthed a corpse.

And you were there when her daughter's body was wrapped in coarse and grainy bandages.

She had been born dead.

And now, you were standing amongst the crowd outside the castle, watching from afar the sullied funeral that deemed the crown cursed. Within a blink of an eye, everything fell into chaos, and, with your father's death, you feared the worse was yet to come.

So, you watched in silence.

Jacaerys was standing next to you, but his presence felt as if it was miles away from you. He wallowed in his thoughts and you didn't question it, not at first, it seemed rather reasonable given the tragic circumstances. So, you let him be and focused your attention on Joffrey instead. The child was perplexed, he hugged your legs in search of comfort and you raked a hand through his curls in affection.

"It's okay," You lowly whispered when the little boy looked up in search of your gaze. "Everything will be alright."

Jacaerys shifted a little beside you.

"I swear to ward the Queen," Erryk Cargill's voice strained your ears, he kneeled before Rhaenyra and offered her the King's crown. "With all my strength..."

You narrowed your eyes at the scene.

Your father's crown.

A pain retaliated in the pit of your stomach.

He was dead too.

"My Queen," Daemon kneeled, after placing the crown on Rhaenyra's head – Queen Rhaenyra. Everyone followed his actions soon after, kneeling before your sister in affirmation of their loyalty and support.

A tang of crimson settled down your throat.

You kneeled too.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

"What is our standing?"

"We have thirty knights, a hundred crossbowmen, and three hundred men-at-arms."

After the funeral, the counsel room ensued with tension as everyone gathered to plan for war. You were standing beside Rhaenyra, listening to everyone's back-and-forth discussion with little interest on your part.

You wanted to get out.

Something about withholding the mourning of your father's death and the possible confrontation with your brothers made you sick. It marred your face with shadows, it was more than evident you weren't feeling well.

You sucked in a breath.

You wanted to wallow in your memories. You wanted to burrow in the recesses of your mind and trace back to when Viserys was your only home. You wanted to go back to when Aemond and Aegon pestered you day and night, to when they were your loyal company and you were theirs. You wanted to go back so bad.

But those days were gone.

"Your grace, a ship has been sighted offshore." Erryk Cargill announced, and you blinked in sudden realization – your brothers. "A lone galleon, flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon."

Idiots, you thought.

"Alert the watchtowers. Sight the skies." Daemon commanded, and soon after, everyone began to make their way outside.

You were nervous.

So, you decided to wait for Jacaerys, falling back a few steps to allow everyone else to make their way through. You wanted his comfort and his words of consolation, but you were more than surprised when he didn't slow down his pace and, instead, walked past you awarely.

You faltered on your spot as he disappeared through the corridors.

He didn't even spare you a glance.

You clenched your jaw, trying to feign an unfazed look on your face as you made to walk out of the room. You cursed him silently, a few hours ago, he had made love to you and whispered dulcet words of affection in your ears, but – now, he was acting as if you were invisible.

You didn't walk to your room that afternoon. Instead, you made your way to the only person who could ever provide you with affection.

"You don't look well, auntie," Lucerys admitted when you knocked and walked into his room. You didn't answer for a moment, instead, you offered him a faint smile. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," You mumbled, but he didn't believe you. The uneasy expression on his face made it evident, but you tried to dismiss it. "It's been a tough time day, hasn't it?"

He looked down at his hands. "Rather stupid."

You tried to stifle a chuckle. "Stupid is an interesting choice of word."

Lucerys' lips itched. "That's how it feels."

You opened your mouth to answer, but his arms wrapped around your waist before you could. He pressed his head against your chest in affection, arms tight around your frame as if he was almost afraid of letting you go for a second.

You returned the hug.

"I'm scared," He admitted.

Your heart shattered.

"I'm scared too," You whispered, and placed a soft kiss on top of his head that made his grip tighten around you. You weren't sure how long it lasted, but the blissful moment made the raw wound inside your chest stop bleeding for a minute – it almost cured the malady.

For a second, you felt safe.

And he did too.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

You ended up sleeping in Lucerys room. In between whispers and hushes, he had told you about his worries and insecurities about disappointing everyone, including you.

"You could never disappoint me," You had assured him that night quietly, "Nothing in the world could ever make me love you less."

He squeezed your hand underneath the sheets.

When morning came, you climbed out of bed and made your way out in silence, tiptoeing around to avoid disturbing his sleep. After debating with yourself, you eventually made your way back to your chamber, but the room was empty as you expected. The sheets, however, were untidy and well slept in – that brought you a little comfort.

Jace had slept here.

Your handmaidens soon bathed and helped you change into a comfortable dress to attend breakfast alone. You walked around the corridors in silence, chewing the inside of your cheeks as you tried to comprehend everything that had tumbled down in a matter of hours, but it didn't take long for your husband to find you.

"Where the hell were you last night?" He hissed, hand suddenly latched onto your wrist.

You pulled your hand back. "Why do you care?"

He gave you a look. "You're my wife, have you forgotten that tiny detail?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Unbelievable."

How valiant of him to act clueless.

How fucking valiant of him to confront you.

You rolled your eyes at him and made to walk away, but he latched his hand onto your elbow and pulled you back effortlessly.

"Where were you?" He spat through his teeth. This time, there was a tick in his jaw and a familiar hint of anger glossed his eyes – he was jealous, but he didn't dare to blurt it out.

Your lips itched. "How bad does it concern you, my love?"

He exhaled sharply. "How bad do you fucking think? Must I repeat myself?"

You relished his sudden outburst, but the feeling soon quenched down when the memory of his indifference conquered your thoughts.

"What games are you playing?" You questioned, pulling back from his touch. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but you took a deliberate step closer despite his glare. "Do you think I'm some kind of whore you can fuck and ignore when you please?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"My father passed and you didn't even dare to look my way yesterday. Not once did you offer consolation, instead, you treated me as nothing more than a shadow behind your pace."

"Perhaps, not everything was about you? My mother lost her father too and she wasn't weeping in hopes for someone to offer a hug."

You faltered on your spot.

Oh.

You felt a wave of heat roll over your skin, but the searing anger made your lips tighten into a thin line – no answer. And he was adamant in his stance because he didn't relent despite the hurt expression on your face; not one bit.

"My prince, your mother requests your presence along with the princess's."

"We shall be there in a moment."

But you walked away before he could look at you.

"Love, wait – "

But you didn't stop.

His words touched your chest, something about them made your breath still inside your lungs and tears collect at the bottom of your eyelids. You brushed them away with the back of your hand roughly as you cursed his name.

Damn him and damn his fucking head.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

"The narrow sea is ours," Lord Corlys finally announced, declaring an alliance with your sister in the counsel room. She was taken aback for a second before a small smile itched on her lips. "If we further deal the Gullet, we can cut off all seaborne travel and trade to King's Landing..."

You were standing next to Lucerys, tracing arbitrary patterns over the wood map. You were quiet – too quiet, thinking about the cruel tragedies that bruised your heart. Your father was dead, your husband was being cruel and your sister was planning a war.

You chewed the inside of your cheek again.

You wanted to walk out, but the tough tension in the room rushed the air out of your lungs and tried to suffocate you and only you. You wanted no war and no part in rebellions and deaths, but even the fool of your heart knew neither was an option for someone like you.

So, you inhaled shakily.

From the corner of your eyes, you caught a small glance of Jacaerys – searching for you.

You looked down at your hands. After his words, you didn't want to interact with him.

"We should bear those messages." Jacaerys suddenly spoke, after your sister had requested to send ravens to Winterfell, the Eyrie, and Storm's End. "Dragons can fly faster than ravens and they are more convincing."

You looked at him then.

Your face was marred with utter shock, despite your current differences, you were not prepared to let him walk into an open field of danger and cruelty. Your eyebrows knitted together in evident disapproval, but he dismissed it.

"Send us."

Your breath stilled in your throat.

After a hesitant moment, Rhaenyra eventually answered, "Very well, then. Prince Jacaerys and my sister will fly North – "

" – Not my wife," Jace interjected. "She will not be placed in the middle of the battlefield."

You narrowed your eyes at him.

No, he will not do this to me, you thought.

"Princess (Y/N) rides the largest dragon on our side, if convincing is what we need, her dragon will certainly do plenty." Lord Corlys stated, his answer earned approving nods from the council, but Jacaerys was adamant.

"Perhaps, she can patrol Dragonstone along with Daemon, she has the biggest dragon on our side as you mentioned, it will be needed here if the greens dare to come again."

"I do not wish to stay in Dragonstone," You finally spoke, darting your husband a look before turning to face your sister. "I can travel North with Baelor and convince the Starks to honor the oath they once made to you. I've heard Lord Cregan Stark is closer to my age than most in this room, I can assure you I can do it."

Jacaerys rolled his eyes.

Rhaenyra pensively looked at you, but there was a hint of hesitation in her blue irises as Jacaerys looked back at her with utter challenge.

"She my wife, I have the final word."

"No, you do not – " You tried, but he interrupted with a tone of finality that made everyone quiet.

"I am your husband and future heir to the iron throne, you will do as I say. No Queen can dissipate that, not even my mother."

You were furious, words couldn't describe the ferocious anger that flitted across your face. You hated him at that moment, he belittled in front of the council – and for what? You wanted to yell and fight, but the words never ripped past your lips and, instead, you decided to finally walk out of the room.

And this time, he did follow.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

"What is it that you want from me?" You eventually questioned, when he stepped inside your chamber and made to walk closer to you.

"I want to keep you safe! Is it so hard for you to comprehend?" He defended, narrowing his eyes as he examined your features carefully. You looked back at him with bitter anger, soft irises torched with copper and gold.

"Is that so?" You challenged. "Is that why you belittled me and deemed me nothing more than a wife in front of everyone in the counsel?"

He clenched his jaw. "I do not wish for you to accompany me to the North, I can not risk your life for an alliance that I am not certain of yet."

You scuffed. "Bullshit."

Jacaerys sighed, but his muscles slowly dropped at the sight of the tension in your shoulders. You waited for an answer, but he took a step closer instead. You held back your breath as he slide an arm behind your waist gently. "You're right, I shouldn't have said those things in front of the council. I became desperate and clung to the safest option that would keep you in Dragonstone without a challenge from anyone.

"But I do not wish to stay here."

"And I do not wish to put you in danger."

"Then we're both imbeciles." You whispered, dropping your gaze to his lips subconsciously. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head in evident stress before tracing soft patterns over your back.

"Perhaps," He admitted, tilting his head to the side before lowly adding, "The things I said about your father's death, it was all a lie, I stepped out of line and I apologize for it. I should've been there to offer comfort like the husband I am, but I was so fucking scared of losing everyone."

"Jace – " You began, but he shook his head and his fingers pulled your face towards him.

" – I can't lose you." He stated, words vehement and firm as they slipped out his lips. You swallowed hard, examining his features with careful eyes – he was being sincere.

You nibbled your bottom lip.

"Let me go North with you." You pleaded, and he shifted a little on his heels at your sudden words. "You speak of fear and regret as if they're foreign to me. Have you ever stopped to think about how your injuries or possible death could affect me? I would much rather die than watch you go."

I let go of my father once too, you thought, and hell eventually happened.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you interrupted.

"Please, Jace," You whispered, and his lips swiftly met yours at the exposed vulnerability that ripped through your facade. You kissed him back, allowing the pain that retaliated in the pit of your stomach to dissipate at once.

After a moment, he pulled away and leaned his forehead pensively against yours.

"Okay," He finally breathed out, "Let's go North."

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Have You Missed Me?

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,475.

Summary: Aemond leaves you for a few weeks, and the time apart leaves you both starving for one another. 

Warnings: SMUT, aemond’s trench coat!!!, swearing. 

A/N - I just got this bright idea of Y/N wearing Aemond’s trench coat... Nothing BUT the coat, and I'm going FERAL !

You had longingly been awaiting this very night for quite some time now, and it finally arrived. It had only been a fair few weeks since Aemond had departed with his father, King Viserys, his older brother, Aegon, and younger nephews, Jace, Luke alongside his grandsire and Hand of the King Otto Hightower and a few good men of the Kingsguard and a maester on a seasonal hunt, Viserys had been planning for his sons and nephews. 

“This ought to teach you boys of the significance between life and death, how to tread life carefully.” The words of his father, Aemond would mimic as he informed you of the news of his departure. Aemond was dreading moments like this, he never quite felt the sense of belonging with his immediate family, nor could he say with confidence that he had a grounded relationship with his father. Although Viserys being your only remaining, living Uncle, and having always treated you so warmly since as early as you could remember, you'd managed to convince Aemond to attend, for your sake. 

Up until the moment he had left you in the privacy of your chambers, Aemond was desperate to stay behind with you. Not a single soul knew of your relationship with Aemond, as you both mutually agreed, it was best to remain secret until the moment was right, considering the rocky relationship between your side of the family against his. Especially considering your father, known for his temper, was none other than Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince. You could imagine the vivid look on his face if word ever escape of you two together. If anything, Aemond in his own discreet way, enjoyed the sneaking around late at night, the way he could tempt you at feasts from across the table, luring you into his touch and just admiring you from afar. Having grown up “by the book” he relished in this unruly side you brought out of him. 

Throughout the weeks passing by, you’d come to realise this was the first ever time you’d both been separated since uniting together as a pair. You found yourself often in fleeting moments, worrying about Aemond’s current whereabouts, your mind pondering over the daunting thoughts that he might have struck an injury, illness or worse. Although as Rhaenyra often exchanged letters by ravens with her second-born son, Luke, no ill news was exchanged. 

Now, as you studiously watched the carriages pulling each party to the main courtyard of the castle, standing beside the remaining royal women, you grew tense with the excitement building up from within. 

First, Luke and Jace had retired from the confines of the carriage, racing their way upto their mother, before each one had greeted you, Luke remained by your side, his arm enwrapped in yours, as Aemond stepped out last following Aegon, who seemed tipsy. 

As your eyes met, you noticed a faint smile appearing on his face, as you felt your own beaming, before returning your gaze onto your younger step-brother. 

“Come now, you boys should settle and eat before you rest.” Alicent had welcomingly proclaimed, as she ushered the boys into the great entrance. 

After having grown impatient of you Luke and Jace’s accounts of their hunt, retelling and confusing one another of which account was true, you’d finally managed to excuse yourself from the table. Aemond had been sitting on the far end, listening to his father and Otto ramble away about the beast they’d managed to contrive with the help of the party. As usual, he seemed out of place although noticed you leaving. 

Hastily, you sneakily manage to subtly confine yourself in Aemond’s quarters, knowing it wouldn’t be too long for him to find you, you were famished for his touch and voice. Throughout the quite, lonesome weeks, you had been meaning to plan for a little surprise for him upon his return, as a thank you for him having made the effort for you. 

You had only ever nearly shared, one intimate moment with one another, and it had unfortunately been abruptly interrupted by some guard requesting for Aemond’s presence. Tonight you were definitely going to reclaim that lost moment. 

You slipped out of your pale pink, silk gown effortlessly, flicking your hair back behind your shoulders as nakedly walked over towards Aemond’s wardrobe. As you expected, the servants had already returned his clothes into their rightful place, reaching up as you unhooked his large, leather trench coat. 

When you’d first began feeling the way you did for Aemond, you found yourself flustered over the smallest of details when it came to him. This was one of them, you could recount the night so vividly, his platinum hair neatly tied back in a half up half-down style, flowing down against the coarse leather of his trench coat. He looked so incredibly rugged in it, a part of you even intimidate by how effortlessly he wore it. Not something you’d expect a Prince to be clothed in, although Aemond was not fond of the materialism of his world. 

You attentively fixed yourself in the mirror, his trench coat hugging over your naked, exposed body before you felt just right in it. Making your way hastily over to his king-size bed, you laid yourself comfortably down, in a graceful yet subtly exposed position, eagerly waiting for him to join. 

And cue the perfect moment, the door had hastily opened without even a knock, Aemond entered his chambers, before coming to a complete halt as he forced the door shut, keeping his eye fixated on you. 

“Oh how I've missed you, my Prince-” You softly utter, feeling your hand run slowly through the cold, soft linen of his bed that had remained unoccupied for too long now, your other hand resting against your head. He crept closer, closing the small distance between you two, his eye constantly remained on you, a look you’d never truly witnessed before on Aemond...He looked hungry. 

“Now, how much have you missed me?” You playfully whisper, as your free hand instinctively reaches down to your cunt, grazing over the moist skin, sensing your wetness beginning to pool just by the sight of Aemond. You were starving for the man, and he knew it… The subtle smirk on his face, proved otherwise.

Before reaching the edge of the bed, as he slowly walked over towards you, shedding each layer of clothing he had on, now completely off except for his pants. From where you had been sprawled, his height looked domineering, before he bent down over towards you, his knees now up on the mattress. His hand felt rough now, as his thumb began to caress your cheek gently whilst his palm held your chin. One of your free hands ran through the straight strands of his long, silver hair, whilst the other traced over the outline of his eye-patch. Aemond was comfortable enough with you regarding his eye: he was surprise to find that it did not grotesque you.

As though instinct, you removed it, throwing the garment across the room.

Now seeing him in all his glory, the moment was perfect. 

He remained silent throughout, although this wasn’t unusual of Aemond, particularly in these intimate moments. He preferred to express himself through physical actions when he could, and you grew acquainted to that. 

After having studied you since the moment he arrived, his eyes lingered now to your lips, and without hesitation, you felt his lips plunging down against yours, his tongue slipping its way smoothly into your mouth, as his hands snaked their way around your waist, lifting you into his sturdy embrace.

His lips moved away from yours, leaving a trail of wet kisses coursing down your jaw, to your neck as he suckled on your sweet, tender skin. 

“Hmm, fuck.” A low, deep growl escaping his mouth, as he inhaled your floral scent in. You were now sitting atop of his thighs, your cunt spread out against the fabric of his rough pants, your wetness seeping through, even leaving a slight trace against the cloth. You could feel his member growing, a slow throbbing sensation extended between you two, as you pressed down against him deeper. His one arm held your neck, as it made its way along your back providing you with some support, as his other tightly gripped a buttock cheek, squeezing your flesh in his hand. 

“Perhaps I should go hunting more often, if this is what I am to come home to.” He slyly utters, breaking a moment away as he licks his lips, almost as though tasting you. 

All the worries of the past few weeks had melted away in this very moment, all that you two were to face would be faced in due time... This present moment with Aemond was all that existed now. 

[starogeorgina]

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬

Pairing: Harwin Strong × Targ oc

Warnings: Mentions of blood

3.08

Puffing out your cheeks, you watch as Otto Hightower gleefully receives praise from lords from Old Town for resuming his old position as hand of the king. Alicent had poured her honey in your father's ear and assured him her own father would be the best choice. Lord Lyonel spoke with your father not long after you arrived at Driftmark, and they decided it would be for the best if Lord Lyonel temporarily resigned from his position at court. But in truth, you doubted he would ever return.

“Vaella, you look more like my mother as the days go by.” Your father says this before embracing you and kissing you on the cheek. “Have you spoken with Daemon?”

“I have, and I do believe he misses you,” you sigh. It has been so long since your father and uncle spoke; their reuniting would be the only positive outcome from this horrible situation. “You should go to him, father; Daemon is far too proud to reach out first, but he needs you.”

He glances at Daemon, who is talking to his daughters, then shakes his head. After staring at your uncle for a few seconds, your father chuckles. “Lord Lyonel says you have repeatedly insisted he stay on Dragonstone.”

“Harwin has lost far too much.” You run your hand along the reddening patches spotted across your neck. “Perhaps it’s selfish of me, but I want your former hand close for my husband’s sake.”

“And if he had chosen to return to court?”

“Then we would have moved back to King's Landing.” You pause, feeling your throat go dry. “I’m not ignorant of the gossip at court, and I’m aware of why Lord Lyonel was hesitant for his son to marry me, especially since Harwin almost died when he was my sworn protector. But he is a good man who has served you faithfully over the years. Lord Lyonel needs his family to help him overcome his terrible loss, and I would never rob him of that.”

“You may look like your grandmother, but you have your own mother's kindness.” Your father leans forward and kisses your forehead. “Now, I shall attempt to speak with my stubborn brother.”

When your father walks over to Daemon with a member of the king's guard close behind him, you are left standing alone, but Harwin is by your side swiftly.

The wake for Lady Laena was being held in a cliffside courtyard on High Tide Castle, and it was by far the most awkward funeral you had ever attended. Almost all conversations seem forced, as many lords and ladies gossip about how Jace, Luke, and Joff lacked Velaryon features. As tragic as the reasoning for the gathering was, there was something rather magical about watching Varos, Ashwing, Nightmare, Caraxes, Seasmoke, Sunfyre, Syrax, Meleys, Dreamfyre, and Vhagar gathered together around the cliffs of the castle.

Noting Harwin's hardened expression as he and Criston stare at each other, you take his hand, so Harwin’s focus is off him. Criston and Alicent’s sly looks and snide comments hadn’t gone unnoticed by your husband. Quietly, you say, “He’s not worth it; besides, they are probably doing it deliberately, waiting on you to react.”

You didn’t know Laena well, but her death had cast a dark shadow over your family. Daemon was devastated, and your heart broke for Baela and Rhaena. You knew firsthand how painful it was to be without a mother so young.

Harwin places his hand on your lower back and says, “It’s getting late; we should get the kids to bed soon.”

Feeling the baby kick, you rub at your stomach, feeling the movements, and nod in agreement. You glance around the small groups gathered across the courtyard at Rhaenyra, whose eyesight is firmly locked onto Daemon, who seems to be in an intense conversation with your father.

“Mama!”

Ada pushes her way through the small crowd to reach you and buries her face into your side, weeping. You brush the back of the hair with your fingers, being careful not to pull on the black bow, which is identical to your own. “What’s happened, sweet girl?”

Between sobs, she squeals, “I don’t want Daddy to die!”

Her loud sobs attract the attention of others, many of them pulling sympathetic facial expressions. Concerned Lord Lyonel excuses himself from the conversation he’s in and comes over, waving Vaegon, who is standing with your younger siblings, to come over.

In one swift moment, Harwin lifts her up and wipes away her tears with his thumb. “Now what would make you say a thing like that?”

Ada doesn’t answer him; she just cuddles with her father and continues to cry. Harwin sighs. “I’m going to take her inside.”

Noticing the uneasy look on Aerion’s face, you get the sense that he knows something but doesn’t want to address it to everyone. “I’ll join you shortly; I’m going to get Jace and Luke.”

When Harwin is out of earshot, you take Aerion’s hand and gently rub the back of it. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

When he tells you Varos roars loudly in the distance as anger boils inside you, it takes everything inside you not to snap. You pat the back of your son's hand and say, “Go back inside with Ser Harwin and your sister.”

—

You feel as if you’re floating in the ocean, with blood seeping from an open wound and the scent of dragon's blood attracting the sharks as you cross the courtyard to where the greens are standing. Otto, Alicent, Criston, and Lord Hobert, the head of house Hightower, watch your actions carefully. You come to a stop and clear your throat, making your presence known in front of the man who was quickly becoming the root of many of your family's issues.

“Princess.”

The smug look on Larys face threatens to cause the simmering fire inside you to combust, but you manage to keep your composure. “Lord Larys, my condolences on the loss of your stepmother and sisters.”

“Thank you. It has been a difficult time for myself, as I’m sure it has been for my father and brother.”

“The fire at Harrenhal was nothing short of a tragedy, but I’m sure you thank the gods that Harwin and Lord Lyonel weren’t caught up in it.”

His smugness is replaced by a look of irritation.

The fierceness you feel to protect your children causes the invisible cord connecting you and Varos to pull. The dimming sky is suddenly aflame with the fury of your dragon's breath, Varos’s wings beating the air with a thunderous roar. Seconds later, Ashwing and Nightmare join him. All three dragons startle the onlookers below with their boisterous behavior.

“Pray tell me, Lord Larys, what makes you think it’s wise to speak to a girl who is only nearing her sixth name day about her father dying?”

“I was trying to clear up any confusion she may have had. I was under the impression that my niece wasn’t aware she would be the heir to my family's home once my own father and brother had passed.”

Darkness overshadows where you stand as Varos flies dangerously low and your eyes blaze with an unyielding fury. You glare at Larys, silently daring him to continue. It was becoming clear just how dangerous Larys was; you’d even bet on him playing a hand in his father's mystery illness, which seems to have vanished when he left the red keep.

When he says nothing, you turn to walk away and briefly lock eyes with Alicent, whose expression is hard to read.

“Does my brother know about this misunderstanding? He is a reasonable man, but a father's love will make the best man do unspeakable things.” Larys gets to his feet, making a show of dragging his foot behind him. Nervously, he licks at his lips. “I truly hope you pass on my deepest apologies; I meant no offense.”

“Of course,” you say quietly, so only Larys can hear your next words. “But if you make another one of my children cry again, this will be the next funeral we attend.”

—

Harwin’s voice fills the bedchamber as he laughs at the sight of you scrunching your face up and spitting out the tea in your mouth. You rinse your mouth out with water before spitting it back into a bowl, then accept the cup Harwin is offering you.

“Not as nice as the tea you usually drink?”

“No, that was overly sweet.”

He picks up the tea and smells it. “That is rather vile. I’ve never seen a tea that shade of red before.”

You sit on the side of the bed and watch as Harwin removes his shirt in preparation for bed. He often slept naked due to how warm he’d become during the night. You smile. “The children are all safely tucked up in bed.”

Harwin grins and walks towards you.

“So,” you reach out, looping your fingers into the top of his trousers. “I suggest you join me in bed, husband, as we will have an early rise in the morning.”

Your heart flutters with excitement when Harwin gently takes your face between his large hands and kisses you passionately.

—

You smiled, feeling Harwin holding you closer as he nuzzled his face into the back of your neck, his hardness poking into your back. But you were utterly exhausted from having your bodies entwined in dances of desire for most of the night, and you needed a moment to catch your breath. Against your skin, he mumbles, “That tea is really strong-smelling.”

“We could throw it out!” you laugh.

“Hmm, I’m rather comfortable like this.”

Feeling Harwin part his lips and place soft kisses against your bare skin, you’re unable to resist him. Rolling on your back, you lean into him, desperately craving to feel his lips against yours once again, but he suddenly pulls away and sits upright.

“What’s wrong?”

He swipes his thumb under your nose and says, “You’re bleeding.”

Quickly, he climbs out of bed, gets a cloth, and holds it to your nose. “I should get the maester.”

“It may pass.”

Harwin quickly redressed, then helped you put your nightgown and robe on while you pinched your nose, attempting to stop the bleeding. Harwin shakes his head. “I’m going to send for the maester.”

Just as he goes to unlock the door, there’s a knock at it. He opens it, and one of the knights of the king's guard steps forward.

“Ser Erryk.”

“Ser Harwin, princess. There has been an innocent involving prince Vaegon and prince Aerion.”