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bks-writing-adventures · 7 months ago

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Love? Match. (Aemond Targaryen X Stark! Reader)

This is for a request I got! If people like it, i'll do a part two <3

“Delusional. She is absolutely delusional!” Aemond grumbled, mostly to himself as Vhagar landed on a mount of snow with a low grumble. His breath was turning to fog everytime it left his body, his nose and cheeks flushed from the icy cold. This was the worst type of cold in the world. No sun, no fluff to the snow, just bitter. His nose ached, and his body shivered as he slid down Vhagar’s wing. The great beast would not meet his eye, and he could tell that she was certainly not pleased with him right now.

“I know, I know,” He mumbled, reaching to rub the scales that covered her face. “I will be quick,” he said, but he didn’t think that to be true. The North was stubborn, it was cold, and it was the closest thing to The Seven Hells. With every step, he cursed beneath his breath. Perhaps he should’ve landed closer to Winterfell, but landing that close with a dragon would not be a good look. And while he did love to intimidate, it would do nothing but create enemies. Of course, there was always the option of burning the land, but that was not truly his style.

When he finally caught a glimpse of the building, his eyes narrowed into slits, his lashes coated with snowflakes and his vision frosted 0ver. IF one were to cry, their tears would turn to ice on their face. He was surprised that the very saliva in his mouth had not hardened. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed his hands together to create a heat, hoping with every bone in his body that it would spread. He was told to aim for Cregan Stark. His mother believed it would be the best of ideas, since men could bond easier, and perhaps he could fish out some sympathy. He would have to get to them before the Blacks, or else they could plant whatever ideas they wanted, and it would grow out of his control. When he finally saw the first flashes of black hair, it was a miracle.

“My Lady,” He called out quietly, taking a few steps closer. She was covered in a heavy cloak of animal skin, and her dark hair was twisted into small buns around her ears, like makeshirt earmuffs. Her face was red from the cold, and her eyes were big and endearing, almost like that of a cow about to be slaughtered. His eye lingered for a moment before he took the rest of her in, noting the metal jewelry around her neck and fingers. She wore several rings, each with a different stone, and he wondered what it would feel like to press a kiss to the back of her hand. “Are you a Stark?” He asked, despite knowing the answer. This would be difficult to play out. He wasn’t a man to stay away from violence, to use words over a sword. And it was hard to convince himself that this would work out, but he swallowed his doubts as he spoke.

“Yes. You are a long way from home, are you not?” She asked. Her voice was quiet, but it had a certain power to it, her head tilting upward, almost as if challenging him. Her dark eyes looked him over, and a smile pulled at her mouth. He was glad for the cold now, because the redness of his face would hide his blush.

“I am, My Lady. The West is in great need of help,” He spoke. She nodded, and she began to walk, not saying anything. It baffled him slightly, and he quickly started to follow her. Perhaps leather in the cold was not the best of ideas, because he grimaced every time it touched his skin. Fur would have been a much better choice.

“And so I have heard,” She sighed, leading him further into the snow, until he could see smudges of people in the distance. “But what I fail to understand is how that is our problem,” She spoke, a brow raised. Ugh. Her voice was just so enticing, and he could feel his body warming up from how flustered she was making him. It was disgusting, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“You understand that Targaryen’s do not back down from a fight. We will destroy each other, and we will destroy you, too. You must pick a side, there is simply right, and wrong,” He spoke, pausing in his steps as she walked along the ice. He was not nearly as graceful as her, and he moved with caution, trying not to go sliding into the mountains of snow.

“And who is decide what is right from wrong? Because forgive me for my honesty, but I do not believe your brother has ever done a right thing in his life. The wind speaks, and we hear of his sins. We would never bend the knee to such a man,” She spoke, and he felt himself groan internally. Her words were.. Well, true. He had no interest in submitting to Aegon either. His ultimate goal was to get himself on the throne and hope that his elder brother would drink himself to his death. It was a terrible thing to think, but Aegon was a terrible man. Such a fate would only make sense. His life’s worst regret was helping Ser Criston into searching for the boy. He clearly didn’t want the weight of the crown on his head, and he knew nothing about anything. He could not tell his right from left, and he knew nothing of history or politics.

“And I deserve to be punished for that?” He asked, looking down at her. She was a fair bit shorter than him, but just as muscular, if not more. She had broad shoulders for a lady. His Uncle Daemon had once said that a Northern woman was about as feminine as a beast, but… she was, well, she was pleasant on the eyes.

“Do not twist my words,” She spoke. “Besides. The North has nothing to give to you. We are dying left and right. The winter is harsh, and the cold is taking limbs and lives. We cannot fight in your silly war,” She responded. He didnt’ say anything for a long moment, following her gaze out to the wall. It was haunting. The sky was dark, and it was impossible to tell night from day. He didn’t like it one bit, he could not imagine living here, or how they could survive at all. He wondered where the food came from, before he realized, it wasn’t coming from anywhere. They couldn’t grow food, and there was no warmth.

“What if, in exchange for your loyalty, we provided food and safety to your land?” He asked. He could practically see the gears turning in her head, and he fought the urge to smirk. She definitely didn’t see that coming. “Ah, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” He asked softly, his voice tickling her ears. Her eyes were clouded with thoughts, and it took her a moment to respond.

“I would like you to speak with my brother,” She spoke, leading him toward the building. The change from the cold to the heat was shocking and welcomed all at once. Itches grew across his body, and he could feel the snow in his hair melting down into water, making his white hair cling to his head.

“How are we to know that you are not speaking just to speak? I could agree, and you could give nothing.” She spoke, leading him through the building. Her boots left wet footprints across the stone, and he took in a deep breath as he scratched at his neck. His clothes were sticking to his skin. This really was hell.

“I am not one to back down on my word, My Lady.” He said quietly, drawing in a deep breath as she started climbing up the stairs. He had no idea how much time had passed, chewing the inside of his cheek. “That does not mean much to me, My Prince. I do not even know which one you are,” She said, making him chuckle.

“Ah, so I see my fame does not spread this far,” He spoke, and his ego was a bit bruised. “I should have introduced myself. I am Prince Aemond Targaryen, My Lady.” He said, gently taking her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it, his mouth lingering for a moment. Her skin was warm on his cold lips, and he looked at her hands curiously, reaching for her left. No wedding ring. Fascinating.

“Ah, the infamous Kinslayer. I know you now,” She said. Her eyes showed nothing, and he squinted slightly.

“As could be said for most of my family members. We are not known to be… agreeable,” He said softly. He wanted to know more about her, but she was hard to read. His hand was still wrapped around hers, tracing patterns along the veins beneath her skin.

“Hm.” She hummed, saying nothing more as she held his hand, practically dragging him up the stairs like a dog. When she reached the top, she pushed open a door, a group of men sitting awkwardly, their heads whipping toward the sudden intrusion. “Brother,” She spoke, making a boy sigh. “We have an offer from the West,” She spoke, making the room go quiet. Aemond could tell that she was a mighty little thing, no one spoke a word against her. It was a bit of a culture shock, seeing the way that women were treated here compared to back home. At the small court, his mother hardly got a word in, and she’d have to use him and his brother as puppets.

“An offer?” He asked, standing up. He was a big thing, as all Northern men seemed to be. He had a face that looked like it was carved in stone, permanently unimpressed. He was not nearly as beautiful as his sister, in Aemond’s opinion, at least. “This… boy claims that in exchange for our support and men in his stupid, meaningless-” She paused, drawing in a deep breath. “In exchange for our support in the Western war, he will provide us with food and materials to last us the winter,” She spoke, brows raised. The two seemed to be communicating with their eyes, and Aemond could tell by the way that she stood that she was challenging him.

“Sister, what of-” The man didn’t seem to know what to say. “We pledged our loyalty to the Targaryens long ago. But with them going against each other, either side is a fair pick. We may as well choose the side that will benefit us both,” She said, staring at an older man that was sitting in one of the chairs, a brow raised. After a moment, he got up, moving a few paces back so she could take the seat, crossing her legs. Cregan looked at Aemond, head tilting. He was intimidating in a way that was different from the Prince. While Aemond had a carved face and relied on his dark clothes and gaze, Cregan had a natural superiority to him. He was broad and calm, which was the worst. He didn’t show any displays of anger or distaste, he just nodded slowly. “

And is the Prince unwed?” He asked. Aemond’s heart thumped, and he straightened his back even more. This was not part of the plan. He just had to hope his mother would not be angry with him. Marriage was one of the greatest weapons at all. It could be used to bond and manipulate, and it was something that would be in the history books. It would combine their names and their value, and hopefully, give him more access to the other side of the Kingdoms.

“He is not,” Aemond said in response. No one had really spoken directly to him, he felt like such an outsider. Cregan’s face broke into a smirk.

“Well, sister. If we are taking all that we can..” He trailed off. It was weird. Aemond had never been spoken to in this way. It was both humbling and exhilarating. He wanted to argue and say that he never agreed to it.. But at the same time, it wouldn’t hurt.

“And it would give us access to more weapons and money,” The Stark girl nodded in return. When Aemond came to the North, he did not expect to be leaving with a betrothed. But when two hours had passed, she was following him back to Vhagar, a quarter of her things packed into a bag on her back, her eyes narrowed as they walked. He was so awkward, not saying anything as they approached the giant beast that was Vhagar. He just hoped that the Lady Stark would not react negatively, or Vhagar might eat her. “Gīda, Vhagar. Sȳz va se riña.” He spoke, slowly stroking Vhagar’s snout.

“I did not realize how big she was,” Lady Stark admitted after a moment. She did not look horrified, in fact, she seemed almost awestruck. Aemond smiled a little at her words.

“The largest in the world. She is the greatest protector of Kings Landing at the moment, protecting us against our treasonous kin. My uncle has been our greatest threat, you would not like him very much,” He said quietly, taking her hand and leading her to Vhagar’s giant saddle. “Are you ready to fly?” He asked softly. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, and he was thrilled to feel her arms around him as they climbed onto the large dragon.

“Is now a terrible time to mention that I am afraid of heights?” She asked softly as her arms went around his torso. Her arms were strong, maybe just as strong as his.

“That it is,” He smiled, placing one of his hands over hers before they took off. To his delight, she did not scream, she just clenched her eyes shut nice and tight, and held him as they shared warmth. He knew that Vhagar could feel it, this odd feeling growing in his belly like a disease. It wasn’t love, it was.. Infatuation, perhaps. He held his lady as Vhagar’s wings steadied, rubbing her hand in slow, circular motions as she eventually fell asleep. He just hoped that she would not fall. The flight was long and covered the both in snowflakes, and he let out a breath of relief as the air grew heavy and humid once more. The air of the West tasted warm and almost oily on his tongue, the smell of mud and trees tickling his nose with familiarity.

“Wake up, my beauty.” He mumbled softly, nudging the Stark as they made their descend back to the land, Vhagar’s mighty claws slicing into the dirt, sending a spray of dust across the field. She groaned softly, and she seemed to already be reacting to the change in weather, sneezing as she got off of the dragons back. There was not a moment for them to speak before his mother was rushing toward him, her face falling a bit when she saw the girl. Her mind was going to all the wrong places, praying that her son had not kidnapped the girl as ransom or something.

“Mother,” He spoke, taking her arms as she approached. She was stressed constantly nowadays, and the death of his father had aged her ten years. Her brown eyes were tired, and her hair was disheveled, despite the constant conditioning treatments.

“Aemond,” She said, her voice coming out sleepy and cautious as she eyed the dark haired lady.

“Relax, mother. This is my betrothed,” He said softly, reaching over for her arm, slowly bringing the Stark closer as though trying to introduce two dogs, hoping they would make friends.

“Your betrothed?” She asked softly. It was hard to tell if she was angry or simply shocked. But after a moment, a tight smile spread on her face. “And you did not think to ask? Or…” She trailed off, swallowing her words.

“We do not have the luxury of taking things slow in war, mother. And with our marriage will come a bond between us and the North. They will fight with us if we give them the resources they need,” He said softly, and her brows scrunched.

“And what resources would those be?” She asked, seeming rather irritated.

“Food, clothes, safety. We need the soldiers to stay alive if we want them to fight for us. And Lady Stark has much knowledge, politically and socially,” The more he spoke, the more she seemed convinced, and after a moment of thinking, her gaze softened.

“Very well, then.” She said, gazing back at Lady Stark. “We will get you a nice warm bath and some tea immediately. You can sleep in the guest chambers,” She spoke, slowly nodding. Some servants came to take Lady Stark’s bag, but she quickly waved them off. She did not like being separated from her belongings, and when the brunette was finally out of earshot, Alicent turned to her youngest son. “You cannot simply make decisions like that without warning,” She spoke. She didn’t know why she was angry.

It didn’t have much to do with the war at all, but rather, it was the feeling of losing her youngest child. He had remained unwed this long, and he was her best child. She would forever regret what she did to Aegon and Helaena, and she had prayed every night to The Maiden and The Mother for Aemond to get a love match. To find someone that could give him the care and understanding that she could never provide. And now he would be marrying a stranger. But at the very least, they were the same age. And Lady Stark seemed kind enough.

“It is not a good idea to get married when the world is like this. If Daemon finds out..” She trailed off. She was very aware that Rhaenyra’s family was seeking revenge due to Aemond’s disgusting actions. And she would hate to see the Lady Stark be caught in the crossfire. “You will have no grand wedding. There will be no celebration. It will be private, and you will say nothing to anyone at the court. There are spies everywhere,” She warned, and anxiety burned in Aemond’s chest. He hadn’t thought about that, and he did not care to think about it anymore.

When he finally found himself in bed, he watched the ceiling as he desperately hunted for sleep. When it did not come, his mind wandered and his eyes shut as he thought about Lady Stark. Her arms around his torso, the feel of her head on his back, the way her breath hitched the higher they got, all those rings on her fingers- and how she would wear one from him soon, too. The more he thought, the more he wondered, and slowly, his feet touched the stone floor, and he crept to his door, slowly opening it. His guard stood outside, brows raised.

“Going somewhere?” He asked.

“Yes.” Aemond responded, slowly making his way down to the guest chambers. It was a walk of shame of sorts, having to walk past all the guards as they stood by his siblings and mothers chambers. They all gave him small nods, and he sighed, considering turning around. The servants would talk. The Knights would talk. It was a bad idea, but he was so close, and slowly, he knocked on the door of the guest chambers. When there was no answer, he was about to knock again, when the door suddenly whipped open. Lady Stark was staring at him, her skin still rosy and warm from her bath, her hair wet and combed out, slowly curling up again as it dried. Her ears had been covered previously, and he smiled as he saw her in full. She had such little ears, like a cute little mouse. He could almost laugh at the thought.

“Can I help you?” She asked, arms crossed. He smiled at her feistiness, looking at her nightclothes. Her robe was comically large, and he made a small promise to himself that when the war was over, he would have some fine clothes made for her.

“I cannot find sleep. I was hoping you would speak with me about our arrangement,” He said slowly. She looked suspicious, but nodded after some time, stepping aside to allow him into the room. The guest chambers were nothing special. A big bed with generic blankets, a washroom, a bathtub, a chamber pot, some towels, and a fire place. A dresser and a wardrobe, a bookshelf with only two volumes on it. It was dull, but she seemed to light it up.

“My mother says that our marriage will be a quiet one. This is a dangerous family, you understand,” He said softly, following her mindlessly and heating up when she sat on her bed. She just looked so lovely like this, and he cleared his throat, averting his gaze.

“I am well aware. When are the supplies going to the North?” She asked. She had her mind set, and her desires were clear.

“Soon, my lady. We will marry tomorrow once the sun falls, and the day after that, I will bring the delivery myself,” He spoke. They were big promises, but he knew he could do it. When he was very young, he had an obsession with agriculture for some months. For his 14th name day, he had requested only books and seeds, and of course, a greenhouse. A greenhouse that was run by servants and farmers, and was full of plants and vegetables that were ready to go. Perhaps they could build a greenhouse in the North, and they could use mirrors and glass to direct the sun toward it.

“Very good.” She says softly, shifting a little on the bed. “Are you going to stand there forever, or will you sit?” She asked, staring up at him. His eye widened, and he looked at the mattress. It was far softer than his own, and he could only imagine the back ache if he fell asleep on it. But he could not deny her, sitting a good foot or so away.

“...I cannot imagine this is what you envisioned when you were a girl, dreaming of marriage,” He said quietly, making her let out a laugh. Not a soft giggle, but a full belly laugh, a soft wheeze escaping her. “You think young girls dream of marriage?” She asked, as though the idea was ridiculous. “Tell me, My Prince, have you ever spoken to a woman?” She asked him. The answer was of course, no, not really. He had interacted with his mother and sister, but outside of that.. Well, did the Septa count? Probably not.

“Not often.” He admitted. She nodded, smiling a little as she reached out to touch his cheek.

“Oh, I imagine you scare off the western ladies like the plague, with this little thing of yours,” She said, reaching for his eyepatch as he turned his head away. Yes, of course. That.

“It is not my best feature,” He said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

“Says who?” She asked, head tilted. He couldn’t tell if she was teasing or not. He grew hot at that, looking awkwardly at his hands.

“Says most,” He spoke. He sounded pathetic. He hated what she was doing to him, but he couldn’t get enough.

“Most people are not worth your time or mine. Now, I am tired, and I am looking forward to sleeping on this giant thing,” She sighs, flopping back on the bed, arms above her head and her legs parted like a starfish.

“You enjoy it, my Lady. When the war ends.. I will get you the biggest bed the world has to offer,” He said softly, and after a moment of thinking about it, he finally reached out and touched her hair. It was slightly rough in his hands. It was not silky like his own, and it was much thicker, as though she had adapted to the cold air of the north.

“You make a lot of promises. We will start with the marriage, then the supplies, and we will see where we end up,” She spoke, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm. Gods. He felt like he was full of Milk of Poppy. Utterly euphoric. Now he understood why men loved brothels so much. He would pay an embarrassing amount to feel this way every day.

“Sounds.. Sounds good,” He says, voice cracking a little. She smiled teasingly, gently pushing on his chest.

“I will see you tomorrow, my Prince.” She spoke as he headed for the door, and he mumbled under his breath.

“I will see you tomorrow, My Love.” He mumbled so softly that not even the strongest of ears could hear it. That night, he slept like an infant, dreaming of the days to come.

thank you to everyone who reads!! <3

-BK ♡

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sunshinepixels · 15 days ago

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Merry Christmas

some bonus shots that didn't fit aka night shots of the house, ig we can call it the night before christmas

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filmsmakkari · 3 months ago

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Part of Her World 𓇼

rhaenyra targaryen x mermaid! oc

Summary: A mermaid princess finds the only person who understands her in a princess from another world

Word count: 3.5k

CW: None!

A/N- I use a character name for this because it was easier for me to write but it can still be read as an x reader because that's what I had in mind writing it! I am seriously considering making this a series saurr let me know if you'd be interested!

Above the thrashing, powerful waves of the deep blue sea, a ship headed by a golden dragon cut through the tides like a swordfish.

Rhaenyra Targaryen's hair blew wildly around her face in wild silver waves as she overlooked the sea from the side of the great ship. She was in the midst of her betrothal tour- a humiliating ritual where she sailed from house to house and offered herself up like a piece of meat to the great lords. The young princess desperately longed for freedom, and here, during these quiet moments, alone on her ship, she felt that she could get a mere taste of it. At night, when she was meant to be getting the proper amount of beauty rest for a royal princess, she would sneak out and watch the sailors in their evening merriment. Drinking and singing shanties. Life at sea gave them freedom. Total control over their lives and fates. No one was forcing them to dress up like dolls and present themselves to bidders. Rhaenyra truly longed for the same.

As she should, a light sprinkle began to drop from the air. Rhaenyra didn't acknowledge the way the raindrops glazed her face, wishing the sea would swallow her whole.

"You should go inside, princess," the profoundly irritating voice of Ser Criston Cole cut through the soft music of the rain, disrupting Rhaenyra's peace. "I imagine the weather will only get worse as we approach the Stormlands."

"I am not made of sugar, Ser Criston," Rhaenyra said, exasperated. "I will not be washed away with the rain."

"Of course not, your grace, but in fact you are our princess. You must be protected and kept in perfect health at all times. Now, if you please," Ser Criston tried to pull her to her chambers, but she shrugged him off.

"What if I do not want to be as my father is, Ser Criston?" asked Rhaenyra. "Complacent. Too afraid to take risks, cut off from the rest of the world. What if my desire is to fly to the edge of the Narrow Sea on Syrax and find new ways to better our kingdom. The world advances while we remain stuck in the days of the conquest."

"It does not do well to live in fantasies, princess. Now that you've come of age, your responsibilities lie at home. Your father expects it of you."

"Yes, for me to remain cooped away in that castle in isolation and fear forever. I can't live like that. I can't explain it. Perhaps it's the blood of the dragon making me restless. But even now, I can't help but feel that there's something here calling to me.

"Princess—" a violent bump abruptly interrupted the white cloak. The knight and the princess both turned. In the distance, they could see a dark cloud highlighted with thunder and lightning.

The captain noticed at the same time. "Storm coming in fast, all hands on deck!" The first mate parroted the message, and the entire ship descended into chaos. Sailors rapidly climbed the mast, desperately cutting the lines, as the first mate rushed to the helm and furiously spun the wheel, attempting to guide the ship away.

"We need a lifeboat for the princess, immediately!" Cole shouted at the deckhands, pulling Rhaenyra by her arm.

Rhaenyra watched as lightning struck the mast, and fire quickly spread across the deck. Her eyes widened at the catastrophe. Deckhands rapidly cut a lifeboat free, tossing it into the water for the young princess.

"Hurry, your grace!" Cole attempted to shove Rhaenyra into the boat, but she would not go.

"No! The sailors and my ladies first!" She broke free and ran, shouting like a mad woman for all the men and her ladies in waiting to board the lifeboats themselves. The sailors didn't need to be told twice, and though they attempted to encourage her to join them, she refused, searching for every soul aboard to make sure they'd escape safely.

"Madeline!" Rhaenyra shouted her lady's name. The small girl was curled up in a corner, holding Rhaenyra's little dog, Meria.

"Princess!" Madeline yelled, relieved.

"Come! Quickly come!" Rhaenyra grabbed Madeline and pulled her across the burning deck. Avoiding the masts as they crashed down and the canons as they rolled from side to side. Rhaenyra helped Madeline rise to the rail and jump, the dog still in hand. Rhaenyra watched as the pair hit the sea. The violent waves separated them. While Madeline was quickly pulled aboard a lifeboat, Myria lingered behind, desperately paddling to get to the boat. Rhaenyra panicked, but suddenly, it was like a gravitational force took hold of the dog and pulled her to safety. If it hadn't been a life or death situation, Rhaenrya would have pondered how it happened. However, given the circumstances, she quickly took it upon herself to climb onto the rail. But just as she was about to jump, the entire ship turned on its side, and she fell backward into the black sea.

All she saw was fire. Her lungs filled with water as the sigil of the mighty House Targaryen burned. A flash of purple. And then it all went dark.

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

Children of the sea do not have tears. It is that fact, perhaps, that separates the merfolk from the humans. Long shimmering tails and siren songspells aside, the simplest divider was that when humans were hurt, they wept. But when the young royal princess of the Carinae Sea, which humans called the Blackwater Bay, was upset, all she could do was swim for hours around her gilded cage of coral and cowrie stone.

Princess Lerína angrily swam through the seaweed drapes that kept her grotto hidden from all others. Her powerful tail thrust behind her, creating a shining kaleidoscope of purple and blue. As she frustratedly sat down on the large rock on the ocean floor she'd made into her little sofa, her long black hair, a mass of braids and flowing curls decorated with shells and pearls, cascaded around her head, irritating her further.

"He just doesn't understand, I don't have to see things the way he does!" she said angrily to Flounder, her childhood companion.

The princess and the little fish had just been scolded by her father, King Oceanus, for spending time on land.

The day had started a happy one. Lerína had managed to escape the watchful eye of Kunle- the crab majordomo her father had assigned to watch after her, met up with Flounder and gone to find Scuttle- her seabird friend- to show him her recent human finds. Her latest favorite was what he called a Dinglehopper, used to create an aesthetically pleasing hairdo. She'd returned to the castle smiling, saying hello to every shark who made up her father's kingsguard and humming sweet songs. However, the day turned sour when Flounder accidentally mentioned to her father, King of The Seven Seas, that she'd been spending time on the surface again. Her father had done what he always did. Yelled, waved around that trident of his, and said that of every problem in the sea, she was his most troublesome. He'd given her the usual reminder that she would soon be married to a noble merman and that her fixation on the human world would not make her a more desirable bride. Bringing up how humans butchered the queen, however, was an unusual low blow. The reminder of her mother's fate sent shivers down Lerína's spine.

Now, as she was sitting in her grotto, the one place she had to herself, she pondered her father's words. Looking around, she took in the beauty of her human treasures: the shimmering little gold coins she'd found in a pouch lost in a kelp forest, the countless books written in a human language she couldn't understand, and the gold sphere with two glass ends that made everything bigger she'd just found that very day.

Lerína chuckled dryly. "I just don't understand how a world that makes such wonderful things could be so bad. I just wish I could learn more about them. See them dancing, walking around on those… what do you call them?" she asked, gesturing to her fins.

"Feet!" Flounder responded joyfully.

"Oh, right," Lerína smiled. "Up there, they just walk and run wherever they want! Wandering free, without the constant eyes of crab babysitters and shark guards watching their every move. Tides, I wish I could be part of that world." Lerína looked up at the circular opening at the top of her grotto, admiring the colors the rapidly vanishing sun cast onto the ocean surface.

"Well, what would you do there? If you could," Flounder asked.

Before the young mermaid could respond, she noticed the colors she'd admired just moments before being blocked out. A ship, she thought. She'd never seen one so close. Real live humans, so near that she imagined she could hear their voices through the waves. With the reminder of her impending doom wedding looming over her, Lerína, it occurred to Rhaenyra that this may be her first and last chance to ever see humans up close.

Father will never know.

"Lerína, I know that look. It's the bad idea look. What are you-" The little fish was abruptly interrupted by a powerful gust created by the sea princess's tail as she rapidly swam for the surface, quite literally chasing her dream. As she grew closer to the surface, she reached out her arm in front of her, desperate to be close to humanity.

And when she breached, she couldn't believe what she saw.

The ship was smaller than most of the wrecks she'd seen underwater, but it was still the most stunning thing she'd ever seen. The wood was a rich brown, with a golden sharp-toothed creature at the head. Lerína believed the beast to be a dragon. She'd heard stories of dragons as a child. While tails, songspells, and salt ruled the seas, fire, blood, and wings ruled the skies. She'd been told that rulers of the human world chained them up and rode them like seahorses- just another sign of how primitive they were. And at the top, two large black sheets with a three-headed red dragon on them.

Dragons have three heads? Lerína thought. I wonder how humans came to control them.

She swam up close to the ship, admiring the craftsmanship of each groove and hook.

"Isn't this amazing?" Lerína semi-rhetorically asked.

"NO! It's terrifying! Let's go home!" said a panicked Flounder.

Lerína shot him a look and continued on, ignoring him calling her.

She swam alongside the ship, coming across what appeared to be another boat tied to the larger ship. Only much, much smaller. She wondered what use humans could possibly have of one that size. As she took it in, she noticed two people conversing. Her heart skipped a beat. She'd never seen them this close. She wanted to get a better look, so she did something perhaps dangerous. Grabbing onto the small boat with both of her hands, she pulled herself inside the contraption, her long tail hanging out of the side.

There was a small hole in the ship's side, and she took a better peak to see the pair more clearly. The man was rather plain-looking, she supposed. Brown hair, a round face, and a strange, metallic, heavy-looking suit. He reminded her of Tíeres- her father's kingsguard who used to follow her around. Nothing particularly special physically, besides the fact that he had legs rather than fins. But the girl who stood beside him… the very sight of her made Lerína's fins tingle, and her eyes widened with a feeling similar to awe.

She didn't look like any of the pictures Lerína had found on the seafloor. Her hair was nearly as long as Lerína's, flowing like an ocean wave in beautiful ringlets down her back. Her skin was pale as a pearl, with pink lips like the corals her sister, Calypso, grew in her bedchamber. But the feature that stood out the most, the one that made Lerína's heart flutter, was the eyes. Lerína had never seen eyes like the girl's before. They were a beautiful shade of lavender, pure and bright. Lerína felt like she could see the girl's spirit through her eyes, a gentle yet regal and powerful one. She felt as though she could get lost in those eyes and never return.

Another thing she noticed was that the girl wore a crown. Similar to her own, but instead of rainbow abalone, pearls, and cone shells, the girl's was made out of gold, with three ruby eyed dragons in the middle. Lerína wondered if the girl was some form of a princess on land. Her question was swiftly answered as she heard the man speak.

"You should go inside, princess. I imagine the weather will only get worse as we approach the Stormlands."

A princess, like me.

"I am not made of sugar, Ser Criston," the girl said, and Lerína knew that irritated tone well. It was the very same one she frequently used on Kunle. "I will not be washed away with the rain."

"Of course not, your grace, but in fact you are our princess. You must be protected and kept in perfect health at all times. Now, if you please," the man said.

"What if I do not want to be as my father is, Ser Criston? Complacent. Too afraid to take risks, cut off from the rest of the world. What if my desire is to fly to the edge of the Narrow Sea on Syrax and find new ways to better our kingdom. The world advances while we remain stuck in the days of the conquest."

"It does not do well to live in fantasies, princess. Now that you've come of age, your responsibilities lie at home. Your father expects it of you."

Lerína had never felt more seen or understood by anyone. Her six sisters had all taken to their roles as rulers of their seas with ease. They knew their place in the world and fit into it. Meanwhile Lerína never seemed to get anything right, much to her father's displeasure. They could never see eye to eye, and every stroke of her tail felt like a mistake, a disappointment. She knew what happened to her mother, and yet she always felt like there was room for progress. Contact with humans could help dawn a new era for their people. She felt foolish sometimes for thinking such things. But this girl, a girl from another world, she understood.

Suddenly, the ship, and the little boat in which Lerína sat began to shake violently. A man in a pointy hat ran across the deck, shouting "Storm coming in fast! All hands on deck!"

Suddenly all the humans began to scurry around like a panicked school of fish, tugging on ropes and climbing around. The man in the metal suit pulled the violet eyed girl away- much to Lerína's disappointment. She rose up on her arms to try to get a better glimpse, but the girl was already on the other side of the ship.

"Lerína, watch out!" Flounder's voice called out.

Lerína turned to see a group of large rocks right in front of her. She quickly hopped out of the boat and dove into the water, escaping just seconds before the boat was destroyed. She swam around, surfacing again to see the entire ship had descended into chaos. Bright, hot wisps of orange and red were rapidly spreading across the deck, and Lerína realized that this was fire. She had previously thought fire only existed in small boxes in human homes to keep them warm, but this fire was certainly not that. Everywhere the wisps went in their violent dance things broke and shattered. The humans used knives, similar to the stone and shell ones merfolk used, to cut free more boats like the one Lerína had hid in, and quickly jumped overboard into them.

Lerína watched as the land princess helped a brown haired girl, and a furry creature with a tail jump over. The girl was able to make it onto a boat, but the other creature was being pushed back under the waves. Lerína took a risk, diving under the water, grabbing hold of the creature and pushing it towards the boat, dipping under it just before she could be seen by any of the humans.

She swam back around to the side of the ship, looking for the girl, just barely catching a glimpse of her before the entire ship turned on its side, and the girl fell backwards into the sea. Lerína swam around the front of the ship as quickly as a swordfish, tossing away priceless human items in search of the girl. She was nearly crushed as a statue of a woman came flying at her from the ship, but she narrowly dodged it. She dove down deeper, finally seeing the girl sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss. Lerína swam as fast as she could, quickly taking hold of the girl and bringing her to the surface.

Above the sea, as the waves rocked them back and forth and the burning remains of the ship illuminated the night, Lerína felt a strange sense of calm. She looked down upon the girl in her arms, and she looked so peaceful and beautiful. Lerína's heart fluttered once again. Saving a human would go against everything she had ever been taught. If she ever came in contact with them she was meant to swiftly escape, and in the worst case, use her siren song to kill. As she looked down on the most beautiful face she'd ever seen, Lerína knew what she had to do.

So she held the girl tighter, and allowed the waves to swallow them whole.

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

She had never been this far from Atlantis before. She could feel the dry sand burning her hands and the top of her tail, while the waves caressed her fins back and forth. Her hair was damp against her back, and the land princess was in her arms.

Lerína laid the girl on her back against the sand, immediately leaning against her chest to check for a heartbeat. When she couldn't hear one through the girl's thick, fuzzy red and black garment, Lerína quickly unbuttoned it and pulled it apart, leaving the girl in nothing but a thin gown, which, in its dampened state, made the girl's breasts plainly visible. Lerína's cheeks, for no reason she understood, got hot. She shook the girl a few times, trying to rouse her. Finally, the girl coughed a few times, spitting out seawater. Lerína moved back, preparing to escape before she could be noticed. But when the princess didn't move, Lerína did something foolish.

Taking a deep breath, Lerína closed her eyes, and began to sing.

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

Rhaenyra didn't know where she was and she didn't know what was going on. Vague memories quickly flashed through her mind. Her tour, talking with Ser Criston, saving her ladies and her friends, and going under the water.

Suddenly, there was a voice. A voice so enchanting it flowed through the mist of her mind like a beacon of pure light. It was like a siren guiding her back home. She could barely open her eyes, only being able to make out a girl with long hair- she couldn't make out the color. From what little she could tell, it wasn't anyone she knew, and yet she felt incredibly safe and trusted her immediately. With what little strength she had, she lifted her hand and placed it above the girl's hand on her chest. But just as she was starting to regain her full vision, voices began to shout and call her name. The girl's hand quickly left her chest, and she vanished on the beach like seafoam.

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

Lerína, hidden behind a large rock, watched as a group of men and women descended down the mountain, all surrounding the girl in a panic.

"Princess!" "Your grace!" "Rhaenyra," they cried as they gathered around her.

The man in the metal suit Lerína remembered from the ship lifted the princess in his hands and carried her back up the mountain, the entourage following behind him.

Suddenly, Lerína was overcome with a feeling she could not explain. But somehow she knew, from this moment on, things would never be the same as they were.

I don't know when, I don't know how, but I know something's started right now. Someday, I just know I'll be part of her world.

She watched as the princess was carried over the mountain and disappeared when she realized something—she knew the princess's name.

Rhaenyra, she thought. I'll be part of Rhaenyra's world.

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚

#rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x oc #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #targaryen #rhaenyra x black!reader #black!reader #mermaid #fire and blood #the little mermaid #oc #original character #zarina's stories 🫧𓇼

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lov4gor3 · 2 months ago

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A Dragon is Born

TW- childbirth, talks of death,and the stranger himself💀

RHAENYRA POV

“ ARGGH YOU CUNT “, she hears herself scream hoarsely, a sound that was came from deep within, so far yet so close. Her body burned with pain and agony, terror visible in her face as she breathes through her nose and exhales through her mouth. She swallows, terror now replaced with determination “ I will not end up like my mother “ she swallows the lump in her throat so thick as if she is choking on a rock.

Rhaenyra was incredibly nervous and terrified of giving birth, of dying like her late mother, those memories still ached into her memory forever ingrained into her mind. she wishes her mother was here to soother her, to guide her through the pain. But she is gone, of ashes and dust and she will never meet any of her grandchildren and that pains the princess deeply.

she continues to push and breathe, every breath like flames in her lungs, just like she was told and the pain…. oh the pain ��… agonizing. The child bed is our battle field, her mother had one said. How Wise Queen Aemma was….. and how brutal she died.

Rhaenyra so deep in her thoughts didn’t feel the pressure between her legs,gone… empty, she opens her purple eyes, shrill screams of another…. a babe…. her babe… her firstborn.

There is still pain lingering in her body, but without a babe clawing there way out, the pain almost immediately subsided and she was grateful for it. She cries when she sees her babe, oh how beautiful her darling girl was, her babe being wrapped in a cloth and placed in her arms.

oh this feeling… this is what her mother always tried to tell her and there was nothing like it….. oh a mothers love for it is beautifully haunting. She looks down at her little one, her girl, her heir. There is a small tuft of white hair on her head and her skin is dark but a bit lighter than laenor but certainly darker than hers. This makes rhaenrya want to cry and scream with relief and accomplishment, a heir of house Velaryon and House Targaryen.

So enchanted by her babe she barely registered the midwives calling the guards to call for her husband and father. her cries have quieted down the long she feels her mothers warmth causes Rhaenyra to coo at her.

You will understand how much I love you when you have your own children, her late mother once said to her. In her younger years she scoffed at her mother claiming them to be foolish terms for she thought she would never have children, but now she understands the words of her late mother. It only took one look at her daughter to realize what she would do whatever it cost to make sure her babe was safe, unharmed, happy.

“ You little one have caused me a great deal of pain, but how can I scold you for when I’m so in love with you my darling girl. My little dragon i see it, you were born for this world to conquer it like our ancestors, to lead men into armies, to make them kneel and obey. my sweet girl you will show this world that women can be anything they put there mind to. “

Rhaenyra brings the babe to her chest cherishing this moment, peaceful and quiet, looking at the babe she carried in her belly for nine moons, so beautiful…

When she looked up she realized the sky was clear and the sun shone directly on her babe, creating an ethereal look... something inhuman... something dark....

"The Dragon has been born and they shall foresee a great prophecy in which the Prince that was promised shall fight in the war of death and darkness. For they shall bring the light-bringer and the Prince that was promised together to foresee and defeat death. For they are the most important piece in the game." whispered the stranger, looking down at the babe in the arms of her ethereal mother.

to be continued......

#black!reader #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #laena velaryon #rhaenys targaryen #aegon the conqueror #hotd oc #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #house velaryon #game of thrones #daenerys targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #cregan stark x reader

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xxnymeriatargaryenxx · 4 months ago

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but imagine cregan slowly and carefully stroking your bare skin WITH his gloves on ??? 😫🦋🦋

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rainydayathogwarts · 1 year ago

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hello! can i request a smut with remus lupin x extrovert!reader? reader is very bubbly, extroverted, and popular and she's good friends with the other marauders. remus and her have been dating for a while and one time reader catches remus shirtless when she goes to visit him in his dorm and she starts having thots . . . she's actually been having thots for a while and they do it together (her first time? but not remus')

anyways, i understand if you can't get to this. have a good day and thanks from your fellow pan content creator <333

I've been DYING to write some Remus content and this is the perfect opportunity, so thank you anon :) I hope this covers everything you wanted in your request! warnings: smut, mix of soft and rough Remus, oral (f!receiving), wc: 2.5k

You're in the common room with Lily, occupying an armchair, your legs thrown over its edge while Lily takes up an entire couch, laying flat on her back. It was oddly silent in the common room, but you figured that it was due to the lack of marauders in the room. You let out a deep exhale and Lily giggles, turning onto her stomach before bringing up the topic of relationships.

You were both lucky enough to be in a long term relationship with the boys you'd been crushing on since the beginning of your time at Hogwarts. "So you and Remus... It's been almost a year." You blush, hands coming up to cover your face in embarrassment as you groan. "You guys still haven't done it... You'd tell me if you did right." You fish for one of the pillows under you to toss at Lily who shrieks, and sits up.

She shuffles closer to you, hugging the pillow to her chest and leaning towards you, her eyebrows raised suggestively. "Lily I want him so bad" You groan and the both of you break down laughing. "And what, he hasn't made a move?" You go impossibly more red, and hide your face in your hands once more, whining "No. He knows I'm a-" You cut yourself off, looking around, before continuing in a whisper, as though it was taboo. "A virgin. So he's waiting for me to make the move" Lily nods in understanding, a wide grin making its way onto her features.

She starts giggling again, and you jokingly shove her shoulder just as the portrait swings open, and the common room is welcomed with the booming laughter of your boyfriends and their two other companions. You both straighten up, trying to wipe the stupid smiles off your faces, and failing.

When Remus, James, Sirius and Peter approach you, you're still smiling, cheeks red from laughter, and trying to avoid eye contact with each other. "What's with you two?" Sirius asks as Remus dips his head down to kiss you, in synch with James' movements towards Lily. You try making space for Remus to sit beside you, but instead he just picks you up, taking your place and places you on his laps. Lily makes solid eye contact with you and clearly holds back a suggestive comment, cuddling into James' side, a hand rubbing her eyes, as if it would hide her smile.

James looks down at his girlfriend, eyebrows furrowed, and leans closer to whisper something to her. You shut your eyes, knowing exactly what she replies to him in a hushed tone, the rest of the marauders starting to get suspicious of her behaviour. James grins, and looks straight up at you. You shake your head in disappointment at your closest friend, but every thought flies out of the window when you feel Remus' fingers dip under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your waist. The movement is completely innocent and there are no other intentions behind it, but it gets you thinking about him again.

The fact that he hadn't changed his behaviour with you when he found out you were a virgin had taken you by surprise and somehow made Remus even more attractive in your eyes. His tendencies to pin you up against the door of his dorm and press his body impossibly close to yours as you made out hungrily only made you want him more, but he was just too respectful. You knew fully well how needy and horny he got before every full moon but he was just too respectful of your boundaries to do anything about it. You both loved and hated him for that same reason.

"You okay sweetheart?" Remus asks and you jump slightly at the feeling of his hot breath on your neck. You turn your head to face him and nod, smiling. He holds your gaze, the hand on your waist moving down to rest on your thigh, but your moment is broken by James, who jumps up, announcing "Well I'm off to get dressed for practice." Sirius nods, murmuring something incoherent and following James up. Peter gets up, leaving the common room to meet his girlfriend, and Remus sighs, saying something about changing out of his uniform. You nod, watching as your friends go up to their dorm, only to look back and meet Lily's gaze.

You avoid her relentless stare, bowing your head down to focus on your fiddling hands. It's only when James and Sirius come down from the stairwell leading up to their dorms that you look up again, and shooting one last quick look at Lily, who follows her boyfriend out of the common room, you get up. You knock twice on the boys' dorm room, waiting for Remus to call out "Come in!" And as soon as you do, your jaw drops.

You stare blatantly at your shirtless boyfriend who takes his time finding a jumper. At your silence, he turns to you, a silent chuckle leaving his lips. He proudly walks over to you and you have to will yourself to look up at his face instead of his shirtless figure. He raises a single eyebrow at you and you flush brightly, hands immediately going to his chest when he pushes you backwards against the closed door, hungrily kissing you, his tongue dipping into your mouth to claim control of the kiss. You moan, wrapping your arms around Remus' shoulders to deepen the kiss as his come down to tightly grip your ass. He breaks the kiss to start nibbling at the skin of your neck, and the little bits of your chest exposed by your shirt and he grinds into you, causing the both of you to moan.

He digs his head further into the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent. His hands continue to roam your body and he groans, pressing his hips flush against yours for you to feel how hard he is. "Tell me when you want me to stop." He sighs, continuing to grind his hips against yours. You shook your head, causing him to look up and cried "No! Don't stop. Please don't stop."

At your comment, Remus completely separates himself from you, pulling a desperate whine from you. "What?" His palms are now flat against the door by your head and he looks at you straight in the eyes, as though looking for an answer in them. "Don't- I don't want you to stop." You breath out, a hand coming up to rub the back of your neck. "Y/n what are you- are you telling me what I think you're telling me?" He double checks, blinking a couple of times, and you nod.

"Please Remus, I want you to fuck me." And for the first time in your relationship, Remus' whole face goes red, and he licks his bottom lip before pulling you towards him by your wrist. You squeal, your arms wrapping around him when his own wrap around your waist, so he can pick you up and throw you onto his bed. He goes back to roughly kissing you, softly grunting as he rolls his hips into yours. Finally, he unzips his pants, looking at you with a silent question, and you grin, pulling your shirt over your head and throwing it somewhere. Remus blankly stares at your chest, his hands still on his trousers, and he shakes himself out of it, shimmying out of them before pouncing on you once more.

Remus gives attention to every inch of exposed skin on your body, pressing tiny kisses on your body and leaving a cold trail of saliva on you. His hands reach behind your back, and he fiddles with the clasp of your bra. You arch your back to make it easier for him, and when he finally undoes it, his hands go straight to cupping your tits and playing with them. He tugs at your nipples with you writhing under him, and puts one of them in his mouth, instantly beginning to suckle at it.

One of your hand trails down his back, digging your nails into his soft skin while the second grips his hair tightly. Remus groans when you tug at it, but continues his job of marking you as his. His hands start to wander again, this time finding themselves going lower and lower, until they trail under your skirt, fiddling with the hem of your underwear. His fingers hook themselves to the sides of your underwear and he slowly drags the fabric down your legs. His face dips under your skirt, and just as you move to prop yourself up on your elbows to see what happens, his biceps curl under your legs, pulling you towards him, and he buries his face in your cunt.

You cry out, Remus' tongue teasing your entrance as his nose bumps at your clit. You let your head fall back in pleasure, legs automatically trying to close shut when Remus switches to sucking and licking your clit, while his fingers start to dip inside you. His unoccupied hand is firmly pressed across your lower abdomen to keep your hips from bucking into his face. Slowly, he inserts one of his fingers inside your hole and you whimper, but Remus' hand on your stomach softly caresses your skin while he ensures your pleasure with his mouth. Another finger makes ints way inside you, and Remus begins to scissor them open inside you, stretching you out as you buck up into him.

Remus separates from your pussy to look up at you, and mutters a soft "You doing okay?" You nod, your eyes shut and you try adjusting yourself to his fingers. "No darling, I'm going to need a verbal response." You gasp the instant the discomfort from his fingers turn into pleasure and moan "Oh- I'm, I'm good." And Remus can't help but grin boyishly as the sight of you moaning on his fingers. He leans over, smashing his lips against yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue while he rotates his wrist in a way that keeps you desperate for him.

Finally, Remus completely pulls away from you, licking his fingers clean, while maintaining eye contact with you, and your eyes widen in shock. Remus sighs, running his eyes over your body and you self-consciously shut your legs, straightening up a little. He frowns, shaking his head. "No, come on, none of that." He places a hand on your knee, and your legs loosen up for him again. He smiles softly, both hands going back up to the waistband of his boxers. You gasp when his cock bounces up, slapping his stomach, and you're immediately thinking about how all of that's going to be inside of you.

Remus shuffles towards you and takes your last garment - your skirt - off. He starts rubbing your thighs with his big, veiny hands, and starts to reassure you. "Darling it'll be fine. It's going to be uncomfortable at the start, but I'm going to go easy on you, and if you want to stop, just say so." He looks at you, as though expecting a response, but you only shake your head at him. "Hey, remember what I said about needing words?" You nod quickly, then shake your head "Yeah I- sorry. No, it's okay."

Remus nods, lowering himself onto you and giving you a soft kiss on the lips. He's gentler now than he was before, slowly kissing you as he teases your entrance with the head of his cock. He only just realises how uncomfortably hard he's been this entire time and he groans, holding himself back from just sinking his whole cock into you. He pushes into you inch by inch, rocking back and forth to help you adjust to his size, while his hand tightly fists the rest of his dick. Your whimpers are swallowed by the kiss you share, and so are Remus' moans that come out every time you tug harshly on his hair, making him impossibly harder.

When he's completely inside you, he gives you a moment to get comfortable, and he bites his lip, his forehead falling against yours as his eyes tightly shut. It's his turn to whimper, the feeling of your tight pussy clamping on him practically begging him to start pounding into you. But he controls his urges, waiting for you to quietly give him the go ahead from under him. He exhales deeply and moans loudly when he starts to slowly roll his hips into yours, dragging his cock along your tight walls.

You let out a high pitched moan that has Remus drowning in pleasure, and his hand returns to your pussy, rubbing quick circles on your clit. "Shit." He whispers, when you beg him "Faster, please." And he does. He goes slightly faster, but it's enough to have you both nearing the edge. Remus connects your lips again, groaning into the kiss when your nails drag down his back, and the arm holding him up above you starts to shake. He focuses on your clit more, only slightly increasing his speed so you're both pushed over the edge at the same time.

"I'm so close. God sweetheart I can feel you squeezing me, are you gonna cum?" Whining at his words only encourages him to continue talking to you. "Be a good girl for me and cum on my cock. You're fucking making me crazy over here." And his words seem to have a positive effect on you by the way your leg twitches and your grip around him tightens. Remus holds back until your back is arching and you're screaming his name repeatedly for him to release inside you, his hips wildly rutting into you. He whimpers, leaning down to capture a nipple in his mouth and sucks hard.

He prolongs your orgasm by continuing to buck into you and rubbing your sensitive clit, until you're pushing him away from you. Remus pulls out, his hand coming up to fist his dick, cum dribbling down onto your stomach. You moan at the sight as you catch your breath, staring at your boyfriend, his eyes shut in pleasure and his untameable hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. When he rides out his orgasm, he collapses next to you on his stomach, catching his breath.

You giggle, turning around so you're laying on your stomach, and a hand comes up to rub Remus' back. "I think it's supposed to be the other way around" Remus chuckles, turning on his side and pulling you closer to him by the waist. You grin, returning the kiss he gives you, and humming in satisfaction. "How was that?" He asks quietly, suddenly shy as insecurity makes its way onto his face. "It was amazing." You reply, bringing him into another kiss, which he breaks too early. "How about you let me go run a bath for you?" He asks, without giving you time to answer before getting up from beside you.

Your eyes widen as you watch him walk away, angry red scratch marks on his back staring right back at you. Despite that, you let yourself fall back on his bed, a wide grin making its way on your face when you think back about what had just happened.

God, Lily is going to scream when you tell her.

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goldensunflowe-r · 6 months ago

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I can't get over this. This scene is more sad than disturbing to be honest. Daemon grow up without a mother's love. He don't remember her, he don't know how it feels to have a mom. He wonders how it's like, mother loving you, all he had was Viserys and he always pushed Daemon away, accusing him of being traitor and wanting the throne but all he needed was his brothers (and his parents) attention and love which he never got. Most saddest part is Daemon's confused face when "Targaryen lady" says - " if only you'd been born first, my favorite son" HE DIDN'T EVEN REMEMBER HIS MOTHER'S FACE 😭😭😭

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jacesvelaryons · 2 months ago

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Another modern!jace x reader social media, maybeee drama w sara snow😈😈😈

a/n: i’m glad someone got that hint and asked for a sequel hehe 🤭🤭this can be a stand alone or seen as a sequel.

part one

masterlist

asks OPEN

let me know if you’d like to be added to my jace masterlist or a masterlist for all my work in general. thanks for the love and support, and most importantly, your patience. I’m trying to update more often between life, and will be able to provide more stuff soon!

i love hearing what you think of my work, and what more you’d like to see from me. 🥰

Did You Like Her In The Morning? (Modern! Jacaerys Velaryon x Female Reader, Sara Snow x Jacaerys Velaryon (unrequited))

spamacc

;)

liked by spamaccount287 and others

user916 hold on- isn’t that?

usernamehere isn’t that jacaerys velaryon?

↪️ random225 yeah that is him 😒disappointed but not surprised

user3842 men ain’t shit! we been knew

username93661 this has to be sara snows snap i know it

↪️person888 i mean who else!

yourusername

with best boy vermax 🥹

liked by baelatargs, rhaenat and others

nettlesishere love you girl!

liked by yourusername

user97 does she not know?

↪️ accountname66 i think she does or pretends it doesn’t bother her 😞

↪️fan7518 poor y/n 😔

↪️hater473 she’s probably staying with him for the money and turning a blind eye to his cheating she ain’t poor she knows what she got into

↪️username9200 you’re such a misogynistic pos making assumptions like that about someone you don’t know and when we don’t know the full story clown

lucerysvelaryon come over for dinner again sometime! it’s been too long!

↪️ yourusername i’ll see you guys soon i promise! miss you my family 🥰

jacaerysvelaryon

suns out.

liked by helaena.buggirl and others

fan638 oh and then he’s hanging out with her brother :/ he’s a cheater pos

↪️usernamehere i’m not a fan or anything but jace and cregan have been friends long before y/n or sara snow were in the picture ok let’s not jump into assumptions

jacaerysvelaryon y/n took this actually :)

↪️ other827 doesn’t negate the fact you’re a cheater 👀

↪️user1511 we don’t know the whole story guys stop

yourusername shared a story

yourusername’s story can no longer be found.

jacaerysvelaryon

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i don’t like sharing information about me or my loved ones i’d like to keep private, but i’m here to clear up any misunderstandings. i’ve been together with y/n for years and never been with anyone else since. a former fling of mine and my best friends sister has dishonestly posted some private moments i had with her before i got together with y/n, and ive never talked to her since, and spoke with her to cut things off and make it clear im never getting back with her. please respect me and my girlfriend as we navigate this, and leave us the fuck alone.

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fanficapologist · 6 months ago

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Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Eighty-Six

The next few weeks at Dragonstone passed swiftly as there was much to do. After seemingly coming to a stall once the dragonseeds had left to take Tumbleton, reinforcements finally arrived. The castle bustled with activity, the sound of preparations and strategy discussions echoing through the halls.

A new Small Council had formed at Dragonstone since the previous council was overthrown in the Capital. With the arrival of Lord Commander Criston Cole and Unwin Peake from Harrenhal, along with the unexpected presence of Lord Larys Strong, deliberations began on how the Greens would retake King's Landing. The war room was frequently occupied, maps and parchments scattered across the table as heated discussions ensued. Yet, despite the fervent brainstorming, the ideas suggested so far proved unsuccessful, each plan encountering insurmountable obstacles.

Aemond, anticipating the need for sound medical and scholarly advice, had written to the Citadel, requesting a Maester to join them at Dragonstone. The Citadel responded affirmatively, agreeing to send a number of candidates from which the royal couple could choose who would serve as the Grand Maester on the newly formed Small Council.

However, it became evident that the selected Maester would not arrive in time for Maera’s birth, which was now predicted to be a mere fortnight away. When she first found out she was pregnant, Maester Orwyle had examined her carefully, his face lined with concern and concentration. “The very end of the eighth moon,” he predicted with a note of finality.

In the meantime, Maera remained resolute, continuing her duties despite the increasing burden of her pregnancy. Her steps were slower, her movements more deliberate, but her spirit remained unyielding. She attended council meetings alongside Aemond, her presence a silent reminder of the stakes involved and the future they fought for.

With the arrival of the boats from both Harrenhal and King's Landing, Maera found her belongings slowly filtering their way through Dragonstone and ending up back in her possession. Each day brought new parcels and crates, some familiar and comforting, others a stark reminder of the upheaval they had endured.

She was sure that Lord Unwin Peake had grabbed what he could from her rooms in the Riverlands after he received the summons. The items were neatly packed, a testament to Unwin's efficiency. But it was Lord Larys who had brought her belongings from the Red Keep, and Maera still did not trust him. The thought of him personally going through her property made her shudder. He was a creep, and his unsettling presence always seemed to lurk just at the edge of her awareness.

As she unpacked her things, Maera experienced some sadness that not all of her possessions had found their way back to her. She knew this was a time of war, and the Lords had probably only grabbed what they deemed as essentials. Still, it pained her to think of the personal items lost in the chaos, relics of her past now scattered or gone forever.

Among the returned belongings, her black and gold dresses emerged, rich fabrics glinting in the torchlight. Her jewels, too, were there, glittering with the promise of better days. Books she had collected over the years, their pages worn from frequent reading, were stacked carefully in a corner. Some of her weapons had also arrived, including her old hunting bow and a spear sent from Dermot years ago.

Despite the arrival of her possessions, Maera found she couldn't use most of them so late in her pregnancy. The journey on Ēbrion to Dragonstone had weakened her previous injuries, forcing her to take a break from riding on dragonback. The thought of mounting a dragon now was unbearable; her body ached in ways she had never imagined, and the weight of her unborn child made every movement a laborious effort.

There was no way she could use her bow, her swords, or her spear. She was too exhausted just from walking up the stairs, let alone sparring outside. The very idea of engaging in combat or even practicing her skills felt like a distant memory, a part of her life that seemed almost unattainable in her current state. Her once agile body was now cumbersome, each step a reminder of her physical limitations.

The only thing she could do was write letters to her allies. She spent hours at her desk, scribbling replies diligently, aware of the importance of maintaining these connections. Many letters needed to be written, but the task quickly grew tiresome. The monotony of correspondence weighed heavily on her, draining her spirit. There seemed to be no time for fun or joy.

Is this what being a Princess was supposed to be? she wondered, frustration bubbling beneath her composed exterior. Even her giving birth, something she had once envisioned as a deeply personal and private experience, was now a matter of national importance. Her womb was no longer just hers; it was a vessel for the future of the realm, scrutinized and monitored by those who saw her child as a pawn in their political game.

Maera sighed, setting her quill down for a moment, her hand aching from the relentless writing. She looked around at the familiar trappings of her past life—dresses, jewels, books, weapons—all now out of reach, relics of a time when she felt in control of her destiny. The once comforting presence of these items now only served to highlight her current helplessness.

She rubbed her swollen belly, feeling the baby kick beneath her hand. There was a glimmer of hope in that tiny movement, a reminder that despite everything, life continued to grow within her. It was a small solace, but enough to keep her going through the long, tedious days.

The tender moment was interrupted when Maera’s chamber doors opened. Aemond entered, his straight silver hair swaying as he walked, cutting a striking figure in his own clothes. The green tunic he wore reminded Maera of her father’s eyes, her own eyes. She wondered if their child would have her eyes too.

There was still tension between the couple, both walking on a knife’s edge when interacting with each other. They remained separate most days, apart from the few short hours they would spend eating a meal together. Depending on the atmosphere, sometimes the meals were filled with idle chatter, and other times, deathly harsh silence.

Maera rose from her seat, one hand on her stomach and the other on the back of her chair, pushing herself to stand. The pressure on her back and stomach, as well as her injured leg and arm, was intense, but she managed. Once stood up straight, she sighed in relief and bid her husband a respectful nod.

“Is there anything you need, my Prince?” she asked, confusion in her voice.

Before Aemond could answer, a flurry of stewards entered, carrying wooden chests, which only heightened Maera’s confusion. She glanced at Aemond, searching for an explanation in his stern features. His violet eye, usually sharp and calculating, softened slightly as he looked at her.

“I’m not sure how long we’ll be here. At the very least, we won’t leave till you’re recovered from birth,” Aemond said before gesturing to the chests now being placed around the room. “I thought I would bring you some things to pass the time.”

The Princess blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. She watched as the stewards opened the chests, revealing a plethora of art supplies. The vibrant colors in the paint pots and variety of materials were overwhelming.

There were thick, rich reds and blues, delicate pastels, earthy tones, and metallic hues that shimmered in the light. Brushes of all sizes and shapes were meticulously organized, from fine-tipped for detailed work to broad, flat ones for sweeping strokes. Sponges of varying textures and shapes promised endless possibilities for creative expression. The parchments and canvases were of the highest quality, their pristine surfaces waiting to be transformed by Maera’s touch.

Aemond stood back, observing her reaction. His usual sternness was softened by a hint of anticipation, as if hoping this gesture might bridge the widening gap between them.

“This… this is thoughtful,” she said, her voice catching slightly as she ran her fingers over the tops of the paint pots. “Thank you.”

The one-eyed Prince nodded, his expression still serious but with a hint of relief in his eye. “I thought you might find some solace in it. You painted frequently at home.”

Maera smiled faintly, the tension between them easing just a fraction. She could see a glimmer of hope in his eye, a momentary easing of the tension that had plagued their relationship.

Aemond looked down, his long silver hair cascading over his shoulders as he avoided her gaze. After a moment, he suggested, “Perhaps you would join me for dinner this evening as well?”

Maera paused, uncertain. His gesture was thoughtful, yes, and it did clear the air slightly. But there was still a long way to go. “I require my rest this evening,” she replied politely, her voice tinged with hesitation.

Her husband nodded, his stern face masking the disappointment that flickered in his eye. He looked away, the muscles in his jaw tightening briefly. With a sigh, Maera then suggested, “But maybe we could break our fast together in the morning.”

Aemond’s expression softened slightly, and he agreed with a small smile. He reached for her hand, his touch gentle yet firm, and placed a small kiss upon it. The warmth of his lips sent a rush of unexpected emotion through Maera, causing her face to blush.

The Prince lingered for a moment more, his thumb caressing the sapphire and gold ring he had given her. The gesture was intimate, filled with unspoken words and unexpressed feelings. He then turned on his heel and left, his presence lingering in the room even after he had gone. Maera couldn’t deny the butterflies she felt at the thought of breaking their fast together, a fleeting smile forming on her lips.

The days grew longer, and for Maera, time seemed to stretch interminably. For the majority of her marriage, she had been pregnant, a state of being that was all too familiar for noble ladies of her status. It was common for them to be with child almost every year, a cruel arrangement that seemed to trap them in a cycle of childbirth until they could no longer bear it.

Preparations for Maera’s impending labor continued in earnest. The midwives were put on high alert, their presence a constant reminder of the imminent arrival. The chambers were meticulously readied with the necessary supplies, an array of linens, herbs, and tools placed strategically for the moment of need. Aemond, though often occupied with his duties, enquired about her well-being daily, either directly or indirectly through the castle staff. His concern was a small comfort in the midst of her growing discomfort.

The months had completely transformed Maera, both emotionally and physically. The trauma of war had left indelible marks on her spirit, and the rapid changes in her body were no less overwhelming. Her curvaceous figure had morphed into something unrecognizable, her body adapting to the demands of the growing life within her. Maera’s hips had widened, her breasts were harder than rocks, her muscles ached tremendously, and after all of her suffering, she had still not given birth.

The babe, now nine days late, seemed determined to take its time. Maera, exhausted and increasingly agitated, found herself in a constant state of anticipation.

The midwives assured her repeatedly that all was well. The babe within her kicked and wriggled energetically, a sign of its robust health. It was in the right position for birth, they said, and everything was progressing as it should. And yet, the birth did not come. Maera’s frustration grew with each passing day, her patience wearing thin as she awaited the moment that would finally bring an end to this prolonged ordeal.

Her concern grew as each day passed without the presence of a Maester. She remembered that Maesters were typically present at births when complications arose, so their absence must have been a positive sign from the Gods, indicating that her labor would be swift and uncomplicated, with no need for medical intervention. But if all was to be well, why was the baby still not here?!

The midwives had suggested confinement to minimize stress and give Maera a chance to take in the sight of her newly furnished chamber. The room was now adorned with a cradle, baby clothes, and soft rugs, intended to create a comforting environment and potentially jumpstart her labor. However, to Maera, the room seemed to taunt her, rubbing it in her face that the child had not yet come. The thought of staring at the same four walls endlessly filled her with dread, knowing she would go insane if she remained confined.

Desperate for a distraction and some semblance of control, Maera sought refuge in Dragonstone's library. She pulled out a number of books and scrolls, searching through ancient texts and medical treatises in a futile attempt to find something, anything, that might relieve her suffering and allow the babe to come.

After poring over several books, Maera finally stumbled upon sections related to pregnancy and childbirth. Over the course of a few days, she attempted numerous strategies to initiate her labor. She found recipes for spicy teas and drank them, but nothing happened. Determined, she took vigorous walks around the castle, pushing through the pain in her leg and the exhaustion that accompanied her efforts. Yet, there was still no sign of the baby’s arrival.

One morning, Maera awoke to a sudden pain, her abdomen squeezing and releasing for a few seconds. Her heart leapt with hope. Finally, some movement. However, as she turned in her bed, the pain subsided. Perplexed and cautiously optimistic, Maera summoned the midwives.

Upon examining her, the midwives declared the pains to be ‘false contractions.’ While they reassured her that this was a good sign, indicating that her body was preparing for labor, it did not mean the labor was beginning. Maera huffed in frustration, feeling the weight of disappointment. It was back to the drawing board.

Determined not to give up, she resumed her search for solutions, combing through more texts and experimenting with different methods, all while the anticipation and tension grew within her. Each moment felt like an eternity as she yearned for the arrival of her child, hoping that soon, her efforts would finally bear fruit.

After another evening of tireless reading in hopes of finding a miracle cure for her ailments, Maera finally stumbled upon something promising. The practice was outdated and certainly frowned upon by the Faith, but she had already done things the Gods would not approve of. She resolved to ask for forgiveness later.

The text she found described a method first documented in Old Valyria during the time of Aenar Targaryen, her ancestor who relocated his House to Dragonstone. If it had worked for her ancestors, surely it must work for her, she concluded. The excitement and desperation mingled within her, pushing her to try this ancient practice.

Maera made her way back to her chambers and summoned the midwives once again. They strongly advised against it, citing that she should allow nature to take its course as the Gods intended. Maera rolled her eyes at their caution. Surely the Mother and Maiden would understand her plight?

Ignoring their protests, she ordered the maids to dress her in a black sheer nightdress that accentuated every single curve of her body. Her hair fell loose into curls, a beautiful mix of brown and silver. She dabbed some perfume onto her neck and wrists, the scent of jasmine and vanilla filling the air, before leaving her room.

“I was not expecting you here this evening.”

The stone walls of the room were adorned with tapestries depicting the fiery history of House Targaryen, their dragons soaring majestically over battlefields and burning cities. Heavy wooden furniture, intricately carved with dragon motifs, filled the room, and the hearth was always alight, casting a warm glow over the dark stone and keeping the chill at bay.

Now that Aemond had unpacked his belongings, the room began to reflect his character. His polished armor and weapons were meticulously arranged on stands and racks, each piece gleaming and well-cared for. Books on history, warfare, and Valyrian lore were stacked neatly on shelves, alongside maps and scrolls detailing strategies that could be used in the ongoing war. A dark green tapestry bearing the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen hung prominently on one wall, a symbol of his allegiance and ambition.

When Aemond entered his chambers, he furrowed his brow, seeing the shadow of a stranger perched upon his bed. His hand instinctively went to his sword, but as he drew closer, he was met with the sight of his wife in her sheer black nightgown. His violet eye quickly widened, taking in the sight of her fully, his gaze raking up her body.

Maera attempted to appear desirable, though she felt nothing of the sort. Her heart pounded with nerves, and her body ached from the weight of her pregnancy and the exhaustion of her efforts. She resolved that this was merely a transaction to get what she needed and would attempt to play her part convincingly.

The Princess took a deep breath and met his gaze, her voice soft but steady. “Me neither,” she replied, her tone attempting to be sultry despite her inner turmoil.

Aemond's eye swept over Maera's form one last time, lingering on the curves accentuated by her sheer nightgown. Then, without a word, he moved to sit on the chair next to the dresser, beginning to unbuckle his boots. Maera sighed, realizing she needed to be more direct.

"I require your assistance," she stated, trying to keep her voice steady.

Aemond's eye flicked up as he removed his boots, repeating her words as if trying to make sense of them. "My assistance?"

Maera nodded and gestured to her swollen stomach. "I'm exhausted," she explained, her frustration evident. "And if I hear one more midwife telling me to relax for the sake of the baby, I will burn this castle down."

Aemond breathed out a laugh, the sound unexpected but welcome. He then began to unbuckle his dark green doublet, agonizingly slowly, and Maera could not tear her gaze away. When he removed it, leaving him in just his cotton shirt and trousers, he looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “So what do you need from me?”

She gulped, attempting not to be overcome by desire for her husband. Despite her anger and the gulf between them, the sight of him stirred emotions she could not easily suppress. "For you to perform your duty," she said, trying to maintain her composure.

Aemond tilted his head, confusion evident in his eye. Maera clenched her jaw, frustration and longing mixing in her voice as she clarified, "The marital act, Aemond.”

The Prince smirked, a glint of amusement in his eye. "It's already evident that I have performed my duty," he replied, gesturing to her rounded abdomen.

Maera dug her nails into her palm, the sharpness of her frustration growing as she tried to explain herself. "I read in a Valyrian tome that the act can bring forth labor towards the end of pregnancy," she reiterated, her voice carrying a mixture of urgency and irritation.

Aemond nodded slowly, his violet eye studying her with a hint of amusement dancing beneath the surface. He raised his brow for a moment, as if pondering her words, before decisively removing his cotton shirt. The action revealed his lean, muscular form, marked with scars that told tales of battles fought and dangers faced. Despite her current state of mind, Maera couldn't deny that he was undeniably handsome, and the sight of him after their prolonged separation only served to intensify her desire.

Pulling his silver hair free from its confines, Aemond's locks cascaded over his broad shoulders, framing his sharp features with a striking contrast. He spoke in a low, measured voice, his words laden with a subtle challenge, "Well then, wife, all you need do is simply ask me.”

“…ask you?” She parroted, her mind racing to comprehend his meaning.

“Yes.” Aemond stepped closer, looming over her on the bed, his presence commanding and magnetic. He leaned down slightly, bringing his face closer to hers, and repeated in that same low tone, "Ask me."

Her breath quickened in response to the intensity of his gaze and the proximity of his body. A mixture of anger and longing churned within her as she felt his deliberate attempt to tease and provoke her. She clenched her jaw, fighting the inner turmoil of pride battling against desperate need.

Their eyes locked, and in that charged moment, Maera felt the room shrink around them, the air thick with unresolved tension. She struggled to maintain her composure, her hands trembling slightly at her sides. Despite her determination to resist, a part of her yearned to surrender to the allure of his presence, to bridge the emotional chasm that had grown between them.

The Princess rose abruptly from the bed, her hands pressing firmly on Aemond's shoulders as she shoved him backwards. Her breath was quick, eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and defiance.

"Coming here was a mistake," she declared sharply, her voice tinged with anger. She turned away from him, walking briskly towards his dresser. Running her fingers through her curls, she decided to play Aemond's game of cat and mouse. "It's a pity Hugh Hammer has already left," she remarked coolly, her tone laced with provocation. "He would have jumped at the chance to bed me."

Maera heard him storming towards her, and she glanced into the mirror to see his looming figure behind her. Before she could react, his arm darted forward, grabbing her neck and yanking her backwards. She gasped as her back pressed against his bare torso, feeling the tension radiating off him.

“You would dare let someone touch you?”Aemond growled into her ear, his grip tightening slightly. His voice was edged with possessiveness and anger.

Meeting his intensity, Maera asked in return, her own voice steady despite the pressure on her neck, "And what would you do if I did?"

There was a charged silence between them, the air thick with tension and unspoken desires. Aemond's grip on her neck loosened slightly, his breath brushing against her skin as he leaned closer. “Slit their throat and let the blood spray and drip down your beautiful face,” he murmured, the brutality of his words causing her stomach to do flips.

Maera's expression hardened as she spun out of his grasp, facing him chest to chest. Her eyes locked onto his with defiance and frustration, yet beneath the surface, a flicker of something more complex lingered.

"You're insufferable," Maera declared sharply, her voice a blend of exasperation and an underlying current of something deeper, something primal that stirred within her.

Before Aemond could respond, she made her move. Leaning forward, Maera closed the distance between them in one swift motion. She crushed her lips against his with a fierce hunger, the kiss a tumultuous blend of passion and frustration. Her hands moved to grip his shoulders, fingers digging into his bare muscles.

Her lips moved against his with a fervor born of months of tension and misunderstanding. She tasted the familiar essence of him, a mix of warmth and something distinctly Aemond. His response was immediate, his arms encircling her waist, pulling her closer into him, melding their bodies together in a desperate embrace.

Maera felt herself being pushed back to the bed, her husband’s hands venturing to her shoulders as he pushed sleeves of the nightgown down, the sheer material falling off of her body and pooling at her feet. Aemond’s hands immediately flew to her breasts, squeezing and massaging the rounded flesh, which brought her great relief. A soft moan escaped her lips as she surrendered herself to him, his touch fueling the yearning within her that she had desperately tried to deny.

Aemond pulled away for a moment, grabbing one of the pillows at the top of the bed before placing it behind her. He then dropped to his knees, his hand crawling along the length of her leg, the calloused fingertips dancing along her calf before meeting the soft rounded meat of her thigh. She instinctively widened her legs, inviting, if not begging him, to touch her, revealing her glistening cunt to him.

“Fuck, you have missed me,” he purred before swiping his tongue through her folds.

“Oh Gods,” Maera sighed as her husband lapped at her core like a man starved, his tongue delivering deliberate strokes to her clit, causing her to squirm. Each flick of his tongue and the firm pressure at her aching core intensified the desire pooling inside of her.

The Princess’s hands gripped the sheets tightly as she felt herself getting closer and closer to her peak. Aemond’s eye flicked up, grabbing onto one of her hands and placing it firmly onto the back of his head. All semblance of control left her body as she finally fully surrendered to him, whimpering as she gripped his silver tresses.

Maera allowed her hips to roll against her husband’s face, that oh-so familiar knot tightening in her stomach as he savoured the nectar of her arousal. Aemond’s hand squeezed her thigh harshly as his other moved down to let his fingers join his tongue. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head in pleasure as two fingers entered her, whilst he peppered kisses against her puffy clit.

His digits curled inside of her, brushing against that rough patch within. The Prince groaned as he heard her muffled voice moaning his name, the sound of her arousal echoing throughout the chambers. Mere seconds later she saw stars as she gasped for air, the tight coil snapping as pleasure completely washed over her. She held Aemond in place, her nails digging into his scalp as he continued licking and sucking her clit through her peak.

The one-eyed Prince did not give her time to catch her breath before flipping her onto her front, her swollen belly resting on the pillow he had previously put behind her. As Maera turned her head to see what he was doing, she felt is tongue run through her folds, lapping up her arousal before licking all the way to her puckered hole, causing her to gasp. Then without warning and the sound of rustling fabric, he entered her in one swift movement, filling her to the hilt before setting an erratic pace.

Her orgasm had left her sensitive and she swore she could feel every inch, every ridge, every vein even more intensely than she had ever done before. She bit her lip, determined to not let any more moans escape her. She had already given too much of herself away. This was supposed to be a transaction, a means to an end. And yet it felt so fucking good.

Maera gripped onto the sheets for dear life as her legs began to shake, his cock hitting that rough patch within her over and over again with each forceful thrust. She felt his hand slide up her neck and tangle into her brown and silver locks before pulling her upwards, her back now against his chest, his breath fanning against her face. When his other hand snaked down to stroke her bundle of nerves, Maera’s back arched instinctively, hand hand flying backwards to tangle once again in his hair.

The pressure began to build once again in her stomach, blinding hot pleasure wracking through her body like electricity. She turned her head to look at him and took in the beauty before her. Aemond, his face flushed, his jaw slack as he looked down, watching as his cock disappeared into her.

Without thinking, she pulled his face towards her, colliding her lips with his. Aemond’s tongue slipped past her parted lips, lapping the inside of her mouth as he tasted her. After a moment, he pried himself away, simply resting his forehead against hers, both of them gasping for air as they chased their peaks, their breaths mingling. The hand in her hair began to snake down her body, pausing momentarily on her breast, grabbing and kneading the flesh harshly, before descending further and resting on her swollen stomach.

It was intimate. Too intimate for what this was supposed to be. But Maera did not have time to dwell, her mind and body out of sync as her cunt fluttered around him, pulsating with a rhythm that was overwhelming, gripping and squeezing his cock like a vice. His release followed soon after, his hot white seed painting her walls, a feeling that she had missed, no matter how much she tried deny it.

After a moment, once their breathing had slowed, Aemond collapsed onto the bed beside her, and Maera turned to lay on her back, her hair fanning around her like a dark and silver halo. She was covered in a sheen of sweat, her face flushed from her two peaks, her body feeling practically boneless.

She felt amazing. Desired. Wanted. Loved? No, that was too much. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She felt his hand brush against hers hesitantly, as if he did not wish to scare her away. But she could not stand it, and abruptly sat up, her heart still pounding from the intensity of their coupling.

She reached down to the floor, her fingers brushing against the sheer fabric of her nightgown. With a swift, almost frantic motion, she pulled it over her head, the delicate material clinging to her still-flushed skin.

There was no time for tenderness or comfort. It was not possible. He had betrayed her, slain her kin, and almost gotten her killed through his sheer lack of action. Yet why did she only feel whole when she was with him? When she surrendered to his whim? When she accepted that her hate for him was also intertwined with her love for him?

As she stood, she let out a deep sigh, frustration gnawing at her. She was mad at herself for giving in to her desires, and even more so at Aemond for his infuriating ability to provoke her. She turned to leave, but her injured leg gave way slightly, causing her to stumble. She caught herself on the edge of the bed, her breath hitching in pain.

Aemond’s voice cut through the tension. “Are you-?”

Maera whipped around to glare at him, her eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and vulnerability. She didn’t want his pity, not now, not ever. “I’m fine,” she snapped, her voice cold and sharp.

Without waiting for a response, she stormed out of his room, her movements brisk despite the pain in her leg. The corridors of Dragonstone seemed to stretch endlessly as she made her way back to her chambers, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Reaching her room, she closed the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment as she tried to steady her racing heart.

Maera woke alone in her chambers the next morning. The bed was cold and empty, a stark contrast to the heated passion of the previous night. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, a mix of frustration and regret gnawing at her. She had allowed herself to become so close to Aemond, and it had awakened feelings she thought she had long since repressed.

She swore she could still smell his scent on her—leather and dragon smoke, a heady mix that made her heart clench painfully. The memories of their encounter played vividly in her mind, his touch, his whispered words, the intensity of their shared desire.

She knew last night had been a mistake, a desperate plea for aid to an adversary. Aemond had done what she asked, but he didn’t have to be so smug about it. Or make her feel so good. It was supposed to be a transaction, nothing more. Yet, in his typical manner, he had twisted it into something deeper, something that left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. Such a devious son of a-

“Oooooofff.”

A sudden and intense pain seized her. It radiated from her lower back and surged through her lower stomach, shooting down the back of her thighs. She gasped, her hands instinctively gripping the sheets as her muscles tensed in response to the unexpected agony. Her breath hitched, and she closed her eyes, willing the pain to pass.

When it finally subsided, Maera knew this was different from the false contractions she had experienced before. She immediately rang the bell to summon the midwives, her heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and determination.

The midwives arrived quickly, their faces a blend of concern and professionalism. One of them, a young woman with kind eyes, asked, "Are you sure it isn't another false contraction, Princess?"

Before Maera could respond, the pain struck again, more intense than before. She clutched the bedpost for support, her body doubling over as she tried to breathe through the agony. The midwives moved swiftly, two of them holding Maera’s hands, whispering words of comfort, while the oldest midwife, a seasoned woman with a calm demeanor, began her examination.

After a few moments, the older midwife looked up, her expression resolute. "Her labours have indeed begun," she confirmed. The other midwives nodded, their grips on Maera’s hands tightening in solidarity and support. The room buzzed with quiet urgency as they prepared for the task ahead.

A million thoughts raced through Maera's mind. Relief washed over her at the prospect of her pregnancy finally coming to an end, but it was swiftly followed by a wave of anxiety. Surviving the pregnancy had been one battle, but childbirth was an entirely different and more dangerous ordeal. The absence of a Maester to oversee the process only heightened her fears, amplifying the possibility of complications spiraling out of control.

Trying to steady her nerves, Maera addressed the midwives. "I know this stage of labor can last for days, especially with a first child," she said, her voice edged with determination. "I need you to assist me in dressing. I have a meeting to attend in the main hall."

One of the younger midwives, her face pale with concern, strongly advised against this plan. "Princess, you should begin confinement immediately to prepare for a safe delivery and ensure you get enough rest," she pleaded.

Maera, ever resolute, pushed back. "We are at war," she stated firmly, though willing to find common ground. "I will attend the meeting, and once it is over, I will begin my confinement. You can wait outside the chambers in case you are needed."

The midwives exchanged uneasy glances but complied. They helped Maera into a dark black dress, sparing her the restrictions of a corset. The dress flowed around her, accommodating her swollen belly. As they laced up the back of the dress, Maera tried to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside the fear and pain. Every movement was a reminder of the life inside her, the child that would soon be born into a world of chaos and conflict. As the midwives finished, Maera took a deep breath, steadying herself for the journey ahead.

Maera walked down the corridor, flanked by guards, her midwives trailing a few paces behind. The grand hallways of Dragonstone seemed longer and more daunting than usual. As she moved, a sharp pain struck, radiating from her back and lower stomach, searing down to the backs of her thighs. She halted abruptly, her hand flying to the wall for support, her other clutching her swollen belly. The intensity of the pain forced her to grit her teeth, her breathing shallow and rapid as she fought to stay in control.

The corridor’s dim torchlight cast long shadows, flickering over her strained features. She tried to steady her breathing, focusing on the rhythm to regain control. The contractions were coming every ten minutes or so, a relentless reminder that time was running out. But she needed to attend the meeting.

One of the guards turned and approached her with concern etched on his face. "Princess, are you alright?" he asked gently.

As the pain subsided, Maera straightened, smoothing out her dress with trembling hands. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, pushing her hair back from her face. "Move on," she commanded, her voice firm despite the lingering ache. The guards nodded and resumed their pace, Maera following behind, albeit slower and with a noticeable limp.

The midwives whispered amongst themselves, their hushed tones barely audible but clearly filled with concern. She imagined they were analyzing her labor, tracking her progress with each step. Maera pushed their voices to the back of her mind. She needed to focus on the meeting ahead. The world outside the chamber was still at war, and she needed to be informed, prepared for the future that awaited her child.

She paused at the doors, taking a deep breath, hoping to keep her composure. The pain was a constant companion now, but she could not let it overwhelm her. Not here. Not now. She squared her shoulders, resolved to stay in control, and signaled for the guards to open the doors. The heavy wood creaked open, and she stepped inside, every step a testament to her strength and determination.

The grand hall was an imposing room, its high, vaulted ceilings echoing with the whispers of history. Tall, narrow windows lined the walls, casting thin beams of light that danced with the flickering of numerous torches and candles. The cold, dark stone of the walls was adorned with ancient Targaryen banners, their red and black hues deepening the hall’s sense of foreboding and power.

In the center of the room stood the stone table, carved with meticulous detail into a map of Westeros. Candles were lit beneath it, their flames illuminating the hidden contours of mountains, rivers, and cities etched into the table’s surface. The soft, warm light created an almost ethereal glow, making the map appear alive.

The council members were gathered around the table, their faces a mix of determination and unease. Aemond’s gaze flicked up as Maera limped towards them, his violet eye never leaving her. With a subtle gesture, he signaled a steward to bring a chair forward, ensuring Maera could sit beside him.

Lord Unwin Peake was the first to stand, his seasoned face breaking into a smile. Maera returned his greeting with a polite, though strained, smile, her teeth grinding as her womb contracted once more. The pain was a constant undercurrent, but she refused to let it show more than necessary. Lord Commander Criston Cole looked striking in his Kingsguard armor, the pristine white and gold of his cloak contrasting sharply with the dark stone of the hall. A golden chain around his neck signified his status as Hand of the King, the heavy emblem resting on his broad chest.

Lord Larys Strong, the Master of Whispers, leaned casually on his firefly-embellished cane, his smile polite yet inherently sinister. He offered her a respectful nod, his voice soft as he commented, “Princess, I am surprised to see you in attendance.” Maera merely rolled her eyes, unwilling to engage with him, and continued her determined walk to the seat beside Aemond.

As the lords began to sit, Larys continued, “If memory serves correctly, you do not have a seat at this council.” His words hung in the air, a thinly veiled challenge. “And with your baby overdue-”

Aemond was quick to interrupt, his tone cold and firm. “Were it not for my wife, none of us would be standing here in the first place.” Maera reached her seat and Aemond rose, pushing the chair in behind her. He turned to the room, his voice commanding attention. “The Princess is a valuable asset and a dragon rider. If anyone has a problem with her attendance, they are dismissed.”

The room fell silent, the authority in Aemond’s voice leaving no room for dispute. Maera sat, her breathing steadying as she focused on the council’s proceedings. The illuminated map of Westeros beneath them seemed to pulse with the weight of their decisions. Despite the pain and the tension, she was determined to play her part.

News from King's Landing was shared with a solemn gravity, each piece of information adding weight to the room's already tense atmosphere. It was assumed that Ser Tyland Lannister, the Master of Ships, had succumbed to the tortures in the dungeons. Maester Orwyle had attempted to escape but failed miserably, resulting in his return to the dark depths of his prison.

Reports indicated that the smallfolk had seemed to accept Rhaenyra's rule, but Maera silently concluded that their acceptance was likely born out of fear. It was hard to argue against the people and their dragons who now held the city with an iron grip. The gold cloaks, who maintained their loyalty to Prince Daemon, held the gates of the city firmly closed, preventing anyone from getting in or out. The troubling news of Helaena and Alicent being taken as hostages brought no new developments, leaving an ominous cloud over the council's proceedings.

As the updates were fed back to the room, Maera found it increasingly difficult to listen. The pains came in rapid succession, each one more intense than the last. She clutched the arms of her chair, her knuckles white from the effort. Her back felt as if it were on fire, and she ground her teeth to distract herself, sweat forming on her brow. Every word spoken around the table seemed distant, overshadowed by the agony coursing through her body. Her focus wavered, the room blurring at the edges as she struggled to maintain her composure.

Aemond's watchful eye had never left Maera, and his concern began to grow as he observed her increasingly pained expressions. Leaning slightly towards her, he asked quietly, "What is wrong?" Maera, still conflicted about their previous night together and determined not to show any weakness, shook her head, gritting out a terse "Nothing." Aemond, sensing the tension and knowing better than to press further, returned his attention to the meeting, though his gaze frequently flicked back to her.

Suddenly, the doors of the grand hall burst open, and Ser Alfred Broome, a guard who had previously served Rhaenyra, entered in a panic, his eyes wide and a scroll clutched tightly in his hand. The council members looked on furiously at the interruption, but the distress on Ser Alfred's face quickly turned their fury to concern.

The knight began to apologize for the intrusion, but Aemond cut him off, asking sharply, "What has happened?" Ser Alfred's eyes darted around the room, taking in the tense faces of each council member. Maera studied his gaze, sensing the gravity of the situation.

Ser Alfred stuttered, struggling to get the words out. "My Lords, a raven has arrived from Harrenhal." He paused, visibly shaken. "It is Prince Maelor."

Maera's heart sank, a cold dread washing over her. No. Surely not. Thena had gotten him out. He was on his way to Tarbeck Hall. The scroll in Ser Alfred's hand shook with his nerves as he continued, "He has been...he is..."

Aemond stormed out of his seat, his face a mask of fury and fear. He approached the knight in a few swift strides and snatched the parchment from his trembling hand. His eye went wide as he read it, the color draining from his face. The room fell silent, the tension thick as Aemond's reaction confirmed their worst fears. “Gods be good.”

The news of what was on the scroll quickly became apparent without the need for further words. The council members exchanged horrified glances, their faces paling. Prince Maelor, who would have become King, the last son of Aegon, was gone. Just like Aemond’s other nephew, Jaehaerys. The Blacks had succeeded; they had vanquished Aegon’s line.

Maera’s heart pounded in her chest as another, far more terrifying thought dawned on her. This did not mean the Greens were without a leader. Aegon and his sons were gone, but the late King Viserys had more than one son.

Did that make Aemond the…?

Did that make Maera the…?

“Arrrgggghhhh!” Maera lurched over, one hand gripping the edge of the stone table and the other clutching her swollen stomach. The pain that tore through her was unlike any she had felt before, a searing agony that radiated from her back to her lower abdomen and down the backs of her thighs. It was harsh, brutal, and all-consuming. She groaned, her face contorting with the effort to remain standing.

The suddenness of her movement drew the attention of everyone in the room. Conversations halted, and concerned murmurs filled the air. Maera’s vision blurred as she fought to steady her breathing, but the contractions were coming too quickly now, leaving her little time to recover between them.

She felt something warm and wet running down her leg. Panic surged through her veins. Gathering her skirts in a trembling hand, she glanced down to see blood flowing between her legs. A sharp cry of alarm escaped her lips. She looked up at Aemond, her eyes wide with terror, and saw his face mirrored her own fear.

“The babe is coming,” Maera declared, her voice quivering with fright and desperation.

Notes: *insert panicked Michael Scott meme here*

Tags: @0eessirk8 @magicseahorse @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @saltedcaramelpretzel @marvelescvpe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek @thelastemzy @kckt88 @darylandbethfanforever9

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

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cateyesinlove · 6 months ago

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Winds of Winter

Aemond Targaryen x OC! Strong Princess x Cregan Stark. Warnings; Minord DNI It will contain 18+ content, Aemond is his very own warning, Targaryen incest, violence and gaslighting by who? its a surprise jk its Alicent. No clear endgame so far.

Rhaella Velaryon is the second child of Ser Laenor and Princess Rhaenyra.

Since childhood, Rhaella was a sweet and joyful girl, never letting the whispers and gossip of the Red Keep bring her down, a proud and strong Princess everyone would say. Rhaella's kindness could touch the hearts of even the Green Queen who looked down on her mother and siblings.

After the incident in Driftmark King Viserys bothered Rhaella to Aemond in hopes of bringing the family together and closing the rift between the Targaryens.

For the next few years, Princess Rhaella spent her time between Dragontone and The Red Keep. Learning the ways of court and seeing how the Greens took over slowly, she of course made a couple alliances and always tried to uphold her mother in the grace of who she could without crossing the Greens.

When King Viserys dies, Rhaella is forced to escape the Red Keep alongside Rhaenys with the help of her loyal guards, Aemond is furious and heartbroken. When she arrive at Dragonstone with Ser Eryk, she witnesses the crowning of the Rightful Ruler and along with her brothers she is sent to win allies, more specifically the wolf in the North; Lord Cregan Stark.

After receiving news of your brother Lucerys, Rhaella is willing to do everything in her power to make the Greens pay, Including a marriage to the North's Warden.

This is just a description of this story, the first chapter is still being worked on!

if you are interested and want a tag let me know

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calamari-inari · 6 months ago

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I recently reached 6K on twitter (not here lmao I'm far from it, but I just wanted to share this drawing!!!)

I also want to use this opportunity to introduce my mascot Ikayaki (the pink squid) and his new friend Takoyaki (the peach octopus) 🦑🐙

I have street food ocs that I'd like to share one day ❤️ Hopefully my username makes a little more sense now lol

#my art #calamari inari #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #ferdinand von aegir #hubert von vestra #black eagles #fire emblem fanart #ferdibert #oc #original character #street food #ikayaki #takoyaki

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misguidedasgardian · 3 months ago

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The hour of the Wolf (XII)

XII. The Storm that is brewing

MASTERLIST

Summary:It was the calm before the storm

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, TONGUE-LOSING, blood, death of a horsie, a tourney and all the violence that comes with it, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, birth, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4 k

Notes: Alright, you know what? This is going to get ugly, I’m a sucker for happy endings but I want to make this story as “real” as it can be, and if ASOIAF is known for something… is that nobody is safe, and this isn’t your usual fairytale. Sorry for the long wait but it took me a WHILE to figure out where I wanted this story to go, and how I wanted it to end, and from how it began. I felt like I drifted too much, too ooc, so… here.

Aerion was fuzzy, it was the noise, but still, you did not want to part from him, and besides, this entire thing was for him.

A tournament had started, two moons later, knights and houses from all over the continent had come to enjoy whole weeks of celebrations for the birth of your child.

You kept gazing back at him, with the nannies in the corner of the royal box, as knights fought to death in the field in front of you. This didn’t amuse you anymore and you wondered why they ever did. After the war, you didn’t really want to see more violence, more blood, or more death.

But nobody died yet so you were hopeful

“Papa! look! that knight has a pointy spear, more like the others”, pointed Rickon, he amazed you more and more each day, he was so smart, nothing ever escaped his sharp little eyes.

But soon the relaxing environment turned sour, as the spokesman presented the next joust

“Ser Daario Blackwood wished to face Ser Jonos Bracken”, you frowned as you looked around and nobody was cheering

Who organized this?

“This cannot happen”, you whispered to Cregan by your side, who frowned, “who organized this?”

Worrying whispers took over the bleachers as the people made nervous remarks. Everybody knew the bloody story between the Blackwoods and the Brackens, they would make any excuse to shed each other’s blood.

Ser Daario approached the royal box.

“Your Grace, my queen”, he offered with a big smile, putting up the visor of his helmet. “If you do me the huge honor, of granting me your favor for this joust, ill surely assure it”, he said with a big smile.

“Of course”, you offered him, throwing through the end of his spear your flower crown, it made from Crepe Myrtle leaves, which look almost black, with red roses and ears of wheat that looked golden.

“Thank you, your most gracious Lady”, he said confidently

Ser Jonos Bracken rode his horse towards it to, this time, he stopped in front of Jaehaera

“If her grace would honor me”, it was odd, to say the least, she was small, and the way he referred to her made your skin crawl. Jaehaera, oblivious to it all and the way he referred to her, she was a child, but she shouldn’t be greeted as “your grace”

She threw her flower crown at him with a soft smile and twinkly eyes, she reminded you so much of Helaena it made your chest tighten.

“Thank you, princess”, said Lord Bracken.

Then both rode to the opposite sides of the tilt

At the signal, both spurred their horses, which neighed nervously and started galloping angrily against one another on each side of the wooden palisade. They met in a horrifying crash of wood, meat and metal.

It was the Bracken who had the point of his spear sharpened and without the protection of the metal point, and when they collided, people screamed as they saw the bloody outcome.

His spear failed at the last second, instead landing on the poor Backwood’s horse, the poor thing screeched in agony. Cregan was quick to distract the children as your eyes couldn’t be taken out of the bloody scene.

The Blackwood got out of his dying mount and unsheathed his sword in a violent movement. The Bracken was quick to release his weapon and do the same

“You are an embarrassment Bracken!”, you heard him scream, “Craven!”, he met his sword with a clash, “Treacherous!”, another swing, “Cunt!”

But the Bracken was quicker, pushing him and threatening him with his sword. You jumped out of your seat and that is when the whole stadium seemed to go quiet.

The Bracken stood tall with the point of his sword in the Blackwood's neck.

“For the one true King of the seven Kingdom, and his heir! princess Jaehaera Targaryen!”, everyone gasped and you just looked at him, straight in the eye.

Blackwood snapped out of the floor, taking advantage of the distraction, he kicked into his legs making him trip and fall, he did as well, he sliced his leg, and when he was back on his feet, he did the same as he had done him, he put the point of his sword in his neck.

“Your grace?”, he asked, “should I slay this traitor’s neck?”, he asked loudly. You heard the children being taken out of the box by the Queensguard.

“Let’s not sully this day with death”, you said loudly, “a tongue I think, sends a better message”, you offered. He did not seem pleased, but obliged.

He took out his tongue in front of everyone

And then they cheered as he raised it in the air.

But there was a part of the public who didn’t applaud, just watched the screaming Bracken on the floor with frowns and disgust.

And you didn’t know what to make of it.

You didn’t know what to feel, or if you should feel anything at all when the joust continued, you couldn’t let it bother you, not in front of the most important families of the realm who had come to celebrate ‘a new beginning’, allegedly. You had to show yourself strong, and that is exactly what you did.

You did not look at Cregan for the remainder of the event, you loved him, he was your husband, but you were the Queen, and you couldn’t be seen as the young girl -that you were- , looking at her husband for approval in front of any trouble that comes your way.

Although he grabbed your hand and squeezed it, in sign of strength.

And you were thankful for that.

The Blackwood was all too happy to continue jousting, invigorated by the Bracken blood you let him spill. The Blackwoods were unhinged but they were loyal to you, and after the situation with Alysanne Blackwood, but everything seemed fine. You wanted to make them an offer of marriage soon, they were key in the victory to the Blacks.

“Ser Abelar Hightower”, out of nowhere, came a knight dressed in all green, with silver marking, a whole tower in the top of his helm, as he wasn’t on the list apparently.

And nobody in the capital had heard anything from the HIghtowers since before Aerion was born, so probably half a year now.

This was the younger brother of the clown that appeared before you when you held audiences

“The Queen was requesting the Hightower presence!”, he said loudly, in a tone you didn’t appreciate, “so I came here to ease her worries”

Well, he didn’t, he faced Blackwood, your personal knight, carrying your favor.

He jousted against him, and he threw him off of his horse in the first assault, he was alive, but barely as they took him out in a made up bed.

And he kept charging at your knights, and winning, and winning yet again.

Then he rode back right in front of your box

“You grace”, he said, taking out the helm. He was nothing like his weak brother. This man was tall and broad as a log, handsome. “I’m here to ease your concerns, and worries, there is no danger to expect from us”, he said, again, the message meant well, the issue was his tone, he was mocking you, “after you emptied out coffers, my Queen, we were forced to cut the tree a little thinner, if you get my meaning”, he said simply

“I do not”, you said back, “but again, this is hardly the time and place”, you said

“We, the Hightowers, got nothing to hide”, he said, sporting a wide, mocking, grin, “we will always serve the House of the Dragon, and the rightful heir”, he said then, and that sparked your interest

“And who that might be? in your eyes?”, asked Cregan, as he stood from his seat, you had missed the fact that he was angrier than you.

He always got particularly in front of treachery and traitors, he took the capital without a single drop of blood, driven by justice and vengeance. And now he stood again in front of you, like the man who had taken King’s Landing in your name

In your late mother’s name.

“Well, the Queen of course!”, he said, “and the next in line, Prince Aegon and Princess Jaehaera”, there it was

It was a complicated situation, as you found the eyes of the mortified lady Tyrell of the Vale, who had attended the celebration in the Reach’s name, and representing her son. She seemed frightened of what was happening, no in any way shape or form what she desired out of her Kingdom.

But still, the Hightowers remained one of the most powerful houses in the realm. Because of where they stood… the oldest city in the seven Kingdoms, the peak of light and wisdom

“The Prince of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne is Aerion”, said Cregan, “of House Targaryen and Stark, a son of Ice and Fire”, he said firmly, “you might not have heard”

The knight only smiled and nodded, hsi auburn hair reminded you of Alicent

Soon, your son’s cry filled the air and he seemed to have put everything back in order, as chatter spread all over the stadium and noises began filling the air.

“Your grace”, called one of the midwives, you looked back at him with a fond smile

“Take him back to the Red Keep”, you allowed, as you had still tourneys to watch, “Ser Erryk”, you called, he nodded and escorted them back to the castle.

But you yourself couldn’t hold on for much longer.

The night found you in the bowels of the Red Keep

You lit up the candles underneath Balerion’s skull, where you tended to pray before Cregan took the city, before everything was… alright.

“Ao teptan nyke skoros nyke eptan hen ao”, [You gave me what I asked of you], you whispered, ”ao ossēntan ñuha qrinuntyssy, se isse pālegon nyke teptan ao mirri nykēla”, [You slayed my enemies, and in turn I gave you some myself], “ao teptan nyke ñuha dārion”, [You gave me my kingdom], “sir iksan asking syt kustikāne naejot gaomagon ziry”, [Now I’m asking for strength to keep it]

“Tepagon nyke kustikāne naejot mīsagon ñuha tresy”, you begged, you closed your eyes and focused your energy, your mind, your senses into this moment, this silent moment

Nobody ever taught you how to pray to the Gods of Old Valyria, but so far, Balerion has been listening.

You felt him, heard him coming towards you from the hallway

“Are you praying?”, asked Cregan, Erryk following closely behind him

“I’m very sorry your grace”, he apologized

“I didn’t know you followed a religion”, he said

“Some say Targaryens, as their dragons, don’t answer to neither god nor men”, you said gently, “But I find comfort of the Gods of Old Valyria, those whose names inspired the ones of our dragons”, you told him, “Balerion is the god of death, the greatest dragon of my house, and the one whose fire shaped the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms alike”

“You ask the God of Death for strength?”, he asked, he wasn’t judging, he seemed truly surprised. You didn’t answer, “I’m very sorry for interrupting your prayers, but, I was getting worried when I didn’t see you with Aerion, your head snapped back to his

“Is he alright?”, you asked

“Yes”, he was hastily to answer, making you sigh, relieved, “Yes, our son is well, strong like his mother”, you smiled, giving the skull one last look, you returned to the safety of the halls of the Red Keep.

“The feast is waiting”, said Cregan. You barely nodded. And began walking next to your husband

[“I’m concerned”, he said, frowning, looking all across the sea, a cup of wine in hand, “she is alone, without no friends, no family to guide her and care for her”, he said slowly, he then turned to his friends and confidant]

Cregan searched for your hand, and you squeezed it back.

[“She has you”]

“Let’s get Aerion”, he offered

[“It’s not the same”, he said, “I had made you come here because I believe you are the last one, the last one that could be of comfort, you are, in all effects, her aunt, cousin to her mother”, he said softly.]

“I have a surprise for you wife”, he said with a soft smile

“What is it?”, you asked him, intrigued

He led you to the rooms on Maegor’s Holdfast in which you usually would host members of the family who did not reside on the Red Keep

[Lady Jeyne Arryn sipped her cup of wine]

“Aunt!”, you said, happily, as you saw Jeyne Arryn herself waiting for you with a pleased smile. You remembered her fondly, she hosted you when you seeked her support for your mother days before the real war began.

[“I will stay, for a while, to comfort her”, she said, “as my nephew is getting ready training to be the future Lord of the Vale, and I do want to see that beautiful little cherub, a son of ice and fire, the prince of Dragonstone”]

“My Dear niece”, she hugged you back tightly

“Are you here to stay?”, you asked her once you separated, “I heard your nephew is doing great work, shows great promise to become future Lord of the Vale”, you say warmly, she smiled and nodded

“Indeed, it is my wish that I can indeed stay for a good season, to give you my company and my counsel if you so desire it”, she said warmly

“Nothing would please me more”, you said in all honesty. You missed the looks they exchanged with Cregan, you missed the complicity.

“You will be the guest of honor at our feast tonight”, said Cregan

“That would be your son”, sh chided carefully, “is him who we honor, although, not everyone was aware of that”

“Were you there today? at the tourney?”, you asked her, frowning

“Sometimes tells of treachery travel faster then the wind”, she said with warning in her voice

“It is normal, I think, to be resentment, specially after how the Hightowers were shunned”, he said

“After a fire there is always ember”, she said, “what’s important is that it doesn’t catch anything dry around it”, only five minutes -to your knowledge- here and she has already proved herself to be wise and a counsel worthy to listen to.

Until you gathered them in a great hall, you remembered how many great families are in the seven Kingdoms. So many you couldn’t possibly remember their names.

The music was delightful, the food was delicious, the wine was floating freely, thing to Lord Redwyne, but… BUT… there was still something tense in the air.

The mysterious Lord HIghtower didn’t present himself again, he left as mysteriously as he appeared and that did not make you feel better.

You and your counsel, with the arrival of your son and other events, had completely forgotten about the fact that Old Town seemed to have been erased from the map without any word to the capital.

And you did not believed the arrival of Lord Abelar HIghtower to be a ‘proof of life’

This was only one of many feasts you were holding for the week's events, so, to everyone's relief really, it ended quite early. The guest of honor, meaning your baby son was not in attendance and you felt restless after today’s events and you wanted to see him.

You have been so caught up inside these walls that you sometimes forget there is a whole world, millions of people out there.

What was happening in the cities? what was happening in the streets of the very city at your feet? in King’s Landing itself?

What was said today? Was it in the mind of most people that it was safe to be? That they wanted Hightower blood in the Iron Throne? that they wanted Jaehaera reigning alongside Aegon? that they believed the Greens should have won?

That you were not the one who should sit the Iron Throne.

Thoughts haunted you as you walked back to your apartments, you felt your resolve crumbling, and that could not happen, you couldn’t slip, you needed to remain strong.

You passed by Aegon and Jaehaera’s apartments, as you saw them both sleep separately you thought about marrying them, but, now? not so much. The betrothal was still not of public knowledge, perhaps you’d do well in marrying Jaehaera away from this madness, with a kind powerful family, that will treat her well, when she is at least eight and ten. Perhaps that is what is best.

She was a kind and sweet child, and even though you wanted to have her under your wing, this foul city was not for the kindhearted, for the faint of spirit.

You learned that the hard way

And despite your best efforts the Red Keep was a nest of vipers.

“Ser Erryk”, you greeted as you found the man guarding your apartment where your son slept.

“Your grace, might I introduce you… the latest member of the Queensguard: Ser Steffon Mangold”, presented Erryk, you smiled warmly at the blonde man stationed right beside him.

“Your grace”, he said enthusiastically, taking a knee in front of you

“It’s a pleasure, I have been told that you were the hardest to find”, you laughed softly, he smiled and stood up again. “The last spot to the Queensguard, where are you from?”

“King’s Landing your grace”, he said quickly, “I have been raised in the city, and I think that is why they chose me”, you looked at Erryk and smiled at him, he nodded back, he had done a good job, it had taken almost a year, but finally it was done.

The mythical seven guards of the Kings, Queens and Princes of the Seven Kingdoms. You looked at the other man at his side, the ones on watch.

Down the hall, following you, came…

“Ser Mervyn Flowers”, greeted Erryk diligently. From House Peak, of Starpike, this as the bastard brother of the Lord of Starpike, Unwin Peak, but you only smiled politely

“Ser Mervyn”, you offered, “Now that I’m in the best care possible, take the night’s watch and watch the childrens chambers if you please”, you checked with Erryk who nodded at you

“It is an honor your grace”, he said, nodding dutifully, and left you

You did not like him.

And it wasn’t unfounded, his brother, half brother, the current Lord of Starpike, had been a supporter of the Hightowers during the war, gathering a host of two thousand men to support the Green army from Oldtown.

During the time Cregan held trials for the traitors and afterwards when you yourself held audiences, Lord Peak came rushing to… demand… your forgiveness, you granted it, not wanting to trouble yourself and to give instability to the Reach after everything that happened so, you pardoned him after the counsel of your now husband. The problem was… he never left.

He had offered himself to fill the post of Tyland after his untimely demise, and Cregan had refused him, deciding to bring yet another Lannister, and now he spent his days… whining and bitching and commenting of every decision the small council had ever made, he couldn’t secure a position for him or any of his family, except for his half brother.

Who was the finalist of Erryk’s long list of candidates, in his defense, for the post of Queensguard, so they decided to pull him to the first seven, to calm his brother, and it looked like it worked

For a couple of weeks

Now the Lord of Starpike was at it again.

He had a daughter, of Aegon’s age, and he was insisting on betrothe the two. You avoided him like the plague, because of your doubts on what to do with the future of the little ones of your family.

No matter how good you tried to put everything together, with the right people, the right family, the throne kept being like a light in the middle of a swamp, I was going to pull in all kinds of creatures, good and bad.

“Ser Erryk, you and Ser Steffon are the ones in charge of Aerion”, you said softly, “until he is of age he will be sharing my chambers, so I want one of you at least with him at all times”

“Of course your grace”, you looked at Ser Steffon, who looked very professional and well mannered, standing there like a statue of the Father.

“Ser Steffon, can I have a word?”, you asked him, he seemed surprised, but nodded

He followed you inside your chambers.

“Have you been out there, in the city, recently?”, you asked him

“Yes your grace”, he said, standing firmly right by the door

“Can I ask, what had been said? in the streets?”

“Your grace?”, he didn’t seem to understand your questions

“What are people saying? about after the war, about the succession?”, you asked him

“The people love their queen!”, he said rapidly, like he was afraid of high treason

“Please”, you begged him, “I won’t hold you accountable for what the people re saying, they are my subjects and if they are worried or displeased I need to know”, you said gently, he seemed pleasantly surprised, but somewhat relieved

“Well, your grace, you see, the war was hard on everyone, and when they raised against your mother, the situation was critical”, he said, “but they love their queen”

“What about those who believed Aegon was the true King, that believe in his legacy?”, you asked

“People are contented with how things turn out”, he assured you, “food is being send again, the people are fed, and you are the one who made sure of it, that is what matters”, he said, “stability, food in their bellies, and safety”

“Well, I think that yes”

“They never cared if the reigning monarch was a man or not”, he said, “they believe in their King or Queen, whoever that might be”, he said, “as long as they are cared for”

“That is right”, you whispered. “Do they accept me as Queen?”

“People is glad that the war is over”, he said, “and they see you as the symbol of that, of a new era of peace and prosperity”

“You seemed to fear me, minutes ago”, you teased

“You are my Queen, and this is the biggest honor of my life, I do not want to disappoint you”, he said

“So you have seen what I have done, or at least heard about it, do you think I am a tyrant?”, you asked

“People in the city talk about how you burn alive your enemies, the pens who caused the war, and how you flew in the back of your dragon and saved the Kingdoms from the wrath of the Ironborns, they talk about how you are in truth the protector of the realm, and I do believe it too”, he said, “you are more than the Lady of the seven Kingdoms, you also are the Protector of the realm”, he said

“Thank you Ser Steffon, I value honesty above all else”, he nodded, “you may go”, he nodded and left the room.

The Protector of the Realm

A strong Queen

You were proving to everyone that it did not matter if you were a woman because you checked all the titles, all of your titles. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, protector of the realm, Queen of the Rhoynar, the Andals and the first men…

With Fire and Blood

Cregan entered the room and smiled as he saw you in your nightgown

“You are happy”, he said with a soft smile

“I have an idea”, you said, “we should take a tour”

“A tour?”, he asked

“After this is over…”, you said, “I wish to take a tour through the Kingdoms, to see my people, so they can see me, and Aerion perhaps”, he listened to you carefully and nodded

“I think it can be done”

“The people need to see me, my heir, and my dragon, to remind them, to reassure them that the war is over and the Kingdoms need to be reunited again.

“I believe, it's a magnificent idea”, he said then.

“And we should go to Oldtown first”, you warned

PCN: I CANNOT SAY ENOUGH HOW SORRY I AM, my inspiration just left the station and didn't come back

AND LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING ELSE

When I woke up this morning, I had no idea, I HAD NO PLANS TO WRITE IT, it just struck me like lightening while I was working, I SWEAR WHEN I ANSWERED THAT ASK EARLIER TODAY I WASN'T WRITING IT, I HAD TWO PAGES AND WERE MOSTLY RAMBLES

Don't know what else to say or how to explain it

I guess Inspiration does have to get you while you are working.

If you read the books, you know what -might- come when I started mentioning weird names, NO SPOILYSSSS

Taglist of the most patient people on the planet

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos @brakingboundaries @duds31 @@persophonekarter @missusnora @aleemendoza2425-blog @aesthetic0cherryblossom @arrozyfrijoles23 @sacredmachine @wintfleur @kitkat-writes-stuff @green-lxght @elle-28 @cloudroomblog @r-3dlips

#misguidedhour #cregan #cregan stark x oc #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan x you #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #targaryen!oc #targaryen!reader #house stark #house targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfiction #team black

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ashblooddragons · 2 months ago

Text

The Red Queen (Chapter 6/?)

(i'm so sorry for the long wait! I've been dealing with some mental health issues lately and had no motivation to write. but don't worry I'm back on my meds and am feeling much, much better. I'm gonna try to get a chapter out once every 2 weeks because I have another fic I'm gonna work on now too. if you haven't voted in my poll yet please do if you want your choice to win! alright enough about me let the chapter begin!!!)

112 ac

Alicents pov

I watch as you, Rhaenyra and Lady Laena ride your dragons. My heart about leaps from my chest when you command Stormchaser to roll through the air. You had been learning and practicing new tricks wth her so I shouldn’t be surprised that you are now doing the ones you were cleared to do by the Prince and the Dragonkeepers. Though that knowledge does not help my fears.

“What are their names again?” Rhaenyra’s new lady in waiting Lady Myrielle Greyjoy asks.

“The yellow one is Syrax, she is the Princess Rhaenyras dragon. The grey one is Moonfyre, she is the Lady Laenas. And the white one is Stormchaser, she is the little Princess’s.” I say pointing to each.

She hums before turning to me again. “How often will we be expected to be waiting here as they are up there?” She asks.

“Well it depends, with Princess Rhaenyra you would be expected to do so each time. But the little Princess and Lady Laena it would depend if they invite you to watch. Rarely are the two Princesses in th sky at the same time, but the Princess Rhaenyra wished to try and stay out of the council meeting and this is usually the time Lady Laena and the little Princess fly and try their new tricks.” I respond just as Rhaenyra lands climbing off Syrax.

“So I have always to come out when she flies?” Myrielle’s little sister Nymeria Greyjoy asks as she points to Stromchaser.

I nod to Nymeria as I climb onto the steps in front of the carriage waiting for Rhaenyra.

“Syrax is growing quickly, she’ll be the size of Caraxes soon enough.”

“That's almost large enough to saddle two.” She says boredly as you and Lady Laena land climbing off your dragons with the help of Dragonkeepers.

“I’m quite content on the ground, thank you, but perhaps the Lady Myrielle would join you.”

“Oh no, I much prefer the ground as well, thank you for the offer though.” Myrielle answers quickly.

I watch as Nymeria walks past Rhaenyra to greet you and Laena. The three of you seem to be talking animatedly about something, though most children speak such ways even if it is just about bread. Though that doesn’t mean it doesn’t bring a smile to my face hearing your excited chatter.

You run over to me smiling and exclaim. “Did you see me Ali? Did you see my new tricks? Kepus showed me the rolling one!”

It is moments like this that I wonder how I can love you as a mother would her own child when you did not come from my womb. There are days I swear I had made you, for how else could this love I feel for you be real if not? I know it is just my heart telling my brain lies, but the thought never ceases to bring a smile to my face. For you are so sweet, so kind, so gentle, just like that beast of yours. I know I had not birthed you, but that does not mean you are not my girl. I hate to even think it but I raised you, not the Queen, not wet nurses, me. It is these thoughts and feeling that have always kept me going even when my mother died, when my father was cruel, when I felt nothing more than a waste of space.

“I did you wer-” I start to say until Rhaenyra cuts me off.

“Yes, we all saw you. Now may we go I don’t wish to get into more trouble than I alreadymost likely am.” Rhaenyra says as she climbs into the carriage.

Myrielle turns to look at me ready to ask the question I know she’ll ask the one each new lady in waiting asks. Is she always like this? I only whisper “Later.” and climb in with Myrielle with you, Laena, and Nymeria following behind us.

Once the carriage starts to move you and your friends look out the window looking at the market and side shows as we pass. Rhaenyra is telling the story of her first flight to Myrielle, but every now and then you girls get a bit to loud for her liking. The only ones of you who seems to be reacting is Nymeria, the only one who isn’t used to Rhaenyra’s chilling gaze.

It is a sad thought, that you and Laena are used to your sisters venomous words and hateful gaze that now it doesn’t bother you anymore. That it is your normal, that it is no longer something youfear but something you ignore.

It is these moments that make me hate Rhaenyra, the spoiled girl she is. She wishes for a sister this time as well and yet seems to have magically forgotten the sister she already has. She speaks of wishing to fly with someone in races but when you have asked in the past she had only scoffed or out right laughed at you. She wants to be a warrior, and her parents would probably let her, but she complains at any exerting activities or when she is sweaty or dirty. She wanted to be apart of her fathers council, but actively avoids it stating she has funner things to do. The world is handed to her on a sliver platter, and then she is mad it isn’t gold or diamonds.

It is these things mixed with how she treats you, that make me hate her in my very deepest parts of my soul. So much so there are some nights I pray to the Mother for forgiveness until the sun kisses my skin with its morning rays. When this happens I know I never will stop hating Rhaenyra but I can still ask for forgiveness each night at the hour of the owl until my heart and soul finally feel free of the rage I feel each day because of the eldest princess.

When we make it to the Red Keep a gold cloak comes up to you, your uncle had bestowed him upon your care until a new Kingsguard comes along who can protect you. He bends down and whispers in your ear, it must be good news as you run off with a smile on your face leaving Laena and Nymeria behind in your excitement.

As the guard follows you, me and Myrielle follow Rhaenyra as she wishes to see her mother before going to the council meeting.

“You know I hate you flying when I’m in this condtion.” The Queen says with a frown towards Rhaenyra.

“You don’t like me flying while your in any condition.” She says with a eye roll.

“Your Grace.” Me and Myrielle say in sync.

The Queen turns to look at us greeting us each in turn. Myrielle seems anxious being in the same room as the Queen so I reach for her hand giving it a reassuring squeeze. She turns and gives me a thankful smile.

“Is she kind? The Queen?” Myrielle whispers to me

“Yes, very kind. She is not called the Kind Queen for nothing.” I whisper back.

We’re brought out of our little conversation when we hear the Queen let out a annoye sigh.

“Go take a bath, you stink of dragon.” The Queen says annoyed at Rhaenyra and her behavior during their talk. Rhaenyra almost always leave the Queen annoyed and frustrated after her vistis.

Once we leave Rhaenyra walks ahead to go change quickly before going to the council chambers as she is already quite late.

Once we were alone Myrielle turns to look at me concerned. “Is the young Princess like the Princess Rhaenyra?”

I know why she asks this, for she worries her little sister, who she raised for their mother was too ill. What if she is in the hands of a cruel and spiteful girl, how can she help her little sister from a girl like that? Especially if it is a Princess.

“No, she is kind, sweet gentle, giving, and quite playful. I think the only thing you need to worry about is if your sister can keep up with her and Lady Laena and their wild games and adventures. Those two are quite energetic so I hope Nymeria can keep up.” I say with a giggle at yours and Laenas antics.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll keep up with them just fine.” she answered with a amused smile.

For some reason I know I have found a friend for life in the Lady Myrielle Greyjoy. I know I will not feel so alone anymore with her here, and I can see in her eyes she feels the same in this moment as well.

Your pov

I run towards the thorne room after my bath, I hear Ser Aldwin Sarwyck’s armor rattling as he tries to keep up. I burst open the throne room doors and smile when I see Kepus standing in the middle of the room smiling back at me.

“Ser Aldwin, please wait here.” I say closing the throne room doors behind me.

“Has he been good to you while I was away?” Kepus asks smirking as I run towards him jumping into his arms,

“I missed you so much!” I say excitedly as he catches me holding me close.

He chuckles as he carries me towards the throne and starts to climb the steps. “I missed you as well, ñuha riña. Though you never answered my question”

“He’s nice, he doesn’t seem to like when I talk to him though, says he’s trying to keep me safe and I’m distracting him.”

He hums at this and when I lookup at him, he seems upset about something I said.

“I’ve been being quiet around him more, not asking as many questions to him.” I reassure, but this doesn't seem to please him either as he sits on the throne and sets me on his lap.

“Enough of your guard hmm? I’ve heard you have a new lady in waiting, two in fact.” He says as he frowns as he moves my hair out of my face.

“Yes, Lady Nymeria Greyjoy, she’s ten, knows how to sing, dance and is very kind, oh and funny! She says the best jokes, me and Laena love her jokes! And Laena is very happy to be my lady in waiting because now she doesn’t have to leave.” I say excitedly.

He smiles this as he inspects the braid my maid gave me this morning. “That’s lovely ñuha riña, it seems you have not one but two wonderful friends now.”

I smile and nod as I touch the arms of the throne touching a ornate pomel of a sword. “Why are we on the throne? Were not supposed to be on the throne, this is Papas throne.”

I hear him chuckle as he reaches into a pocket in his jerkin. “And why should’t we be? This is our families seat, and it may well be mine one day.”

“No, Papa says the baby in Mama’s belly is a boy and it’ll be his heir.” I say matter of factly remembering what Papa has said to me when I asked if I was getting a brother or sister.

“Hmm, and who told him this, the Maesters?”

“No, Papa says he just knows. He said has had a dream of his child sitting the throne with someone sitting with them. He said there was fourteen candles in front of him.”

“A dream you say?” Kepus asks seeming deep in thought.

“Yeah, but Papa said he couldn’t see their face and that it was all blurry, but he knows his child must sit the throne or bad things will happen.”

“Bad things?” Kepus asks as he lifts my hair up.

“That’s what he said, when I asked he said it wasn’t for little girls. Kepus when will I be a big girl?” I ask as I feel him rest something to my chest and try to clip it behind my neck. When I look down I see a beautiful garnet stone, I gasp and touch it and notice the necklace chain matches the metal on my wrist.

“It’s Valyrian Steel!” I say excitedly as I tuen to face him.

“Yes it is, I left one in your sisters room it didn’t feel right not to find you one too. She better take care of hers as it’s quite fragile, I’m not finding her another because she’s careless. And don’t worry about getting older, there is plenty of time to see and learn the things of the world.”

“But I want to know them now Kep–” I start to say before the throne room doors open and Rhaenyra walks in fixing something on her next and messing with the neckline of her dress.

Ever since her fourteenth nameday shes been wanting to wear lower necked dresses. She also has been acting strange with boys, I’m worried because she seems to get something in her eye each time she talks to them s she blinks a lot each time she talks to them.

“Uncle, it’s been a age since you’ve visited court.” Rhaenyra says which confuses me as yes I missed him but he was only gone a moon.

“Yes well court is boring, I only come back to see my little sweetling.” Kepus responds as he stroke my hair.

“Well then why come back at all?” Rhaenyra says giving as she gives me a glare finally noticing me here.

“I already said why, your sister, though if you need more reason I heard your father was throwing a tourney in my honor.”

“That’s not for you, that’s for the baby!” I say with a giggle thinking Kepus is being silly.

“Hmm well can't it be for me as well?” Kepus asks with a amused smirk.

“I suppose, can it be for me too? Oh, and Mama too she’s the one she really should be celebrating!”

“I don’t see why not, it is a celebration for our family and that does include you and your mother.” Kepus says as he touches the stone of my necklace.

“Yes it is, though I did not come here to hear of celebration for some babe, I came to thank you for this lovely necklace Uncle.” Rhaenyra says as she flicks her hair back showing her necklace. It also seems Rhaenyra has something in her eyes again as she’s blinking a lot.

Kepus stands from the throne and carries me down until we’re in front of my sister. “I’m glad you like it, that means my brother won’t be bothering me anymore about finding you a Valyrian Steel jewlery.” He says almost boredly.

“My father told you to give me this?” Rhaenyra says in a tone that makes me grip my Kepus’s jerkin.

“I believe I just said that niece.”

Rhaenyra scoffs and turns around stroming out of the throne room. I don’t understand why she is upset, she got what she had asked Papa to give her, just from Kepus. I’ll need to ask Septa Martha about this in my leasons with her tomorrow.

I look up at my Kepus and see him already looking down at me. “Who did your hair today. it’s all in your face?” He asks as he tucks my hair behind my ear again.

“My new maid Gloria, she’s Ali’s age she said my hair is tricky.” I say as I touch the silver waves that at times curl.

Kepus chuckles and starts to walk out of the throne room. “Well lets go and fix this ‘tricky’ hair hmm?” I nod as I tell him all of my adventures while he was away.

Little did I or anyone else know, that, that day would be the last normal one to ever grace mine or their lives for a long, long time. But at least I’ll have my Kepus through all of it right…right?

Series Masterlist

Also the characters Nymeria and Myrielle are my Besties @sugutoad ocs so give her love for these magnificent characters!!

@ilikefelines @sugutoad @baybaybear1 @sachaa-ff @classicsimpforaaronwarner @mmogurl

This is what I see for the necklace Daemon gives Princess. I hope you all love it as much as I do!

also special thanks to @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I don't know what I'd do without you girly!

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