#i already said they were headed to the first realm

[parachutingkitten]

Akita and Faith bonding over having to babysit the dumb blondes related to the first spinjitzu master.

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun

Aemond Targaryen x Female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 11.5 K

Warnings: Fluffy, Aemond finally makes a friend, characters will be aged up next chapter, reader is from a made-up house

AN: This is my first time writing for HOTD and I'm excited and terrified to share this story with you. I've had this idea in my head for so long and decided to finally get it out. Hope you enjoy xx

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

~~

He was used to playing for second best.

In his short life he became used to disinterested gazes, murmurs of his supposed cold heart and fits of rage, avoidant steps when he passed, the curse he possessed as the scarred second son. 

But never from her.

She looked at him as though he put the stars in the sky. She looked at him as if he was the reason the sky bloomed with breathtaking colors in the early morning.

He felt himself unworthy of her attention and affection, something she was aware of, and she would hold him and tell him all the love she gave him was very much deserved.

It was a sentiment he always had trouble not disputing instantly. 

She made his miserable heart full. 

Aemond couldn’t believe his luck himself for the sun that entered his world and brightened his life. 

He never believed he was worthy of her love. 

And she spent her entire life trying to prove him wrong.

~~

It was a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day.

A day Aemond was dreading. 

It wasn’t often their family made trips away from King’s Landing. His father was King and most visitors made the effort to come to the Capitol and spare them the effort of a visit, but a sudden trip had their entire family uproot their usual routine and he found himself hating every moment of it. 

Being dragonless, he was left to endure the crashing waves of the sea that made his stomach turn. 

“This place is disgusting.” Aegon said the moment they landed on solid ground. 

“Aegon.” His mother admonished with a steady glare. “The Ixtal Islands are a beautiful place and they’re home to one of the most powerful houses in the seven kingdoms. You would do well to show them some respect.”

“Not like they’ll offer me anything of importance.” He muttered bitterly. Rumors had spread of his mother and father’s desire to wed him to his sister Heleana, his future already planned for him.

His mood was immediately soured at the realization that none of the beauties he saw on the Island shore were his intended, but that wouldn’t stop him from having his fun. 

“Why are we even here?” Aegon whined immaturely, making his mother suppress yet another eye roll in response.

“The Lord of Ixtal is an old friend of your father.”

“I still don’t understand why that demands my presence here.” Aegon rolled his eyes.

“Our council is in need of a new Master of Coin and your father is considering his dear friend. We are here for negotiations and our family is nothing if not loyal. Your father, our King, needs us.” Alicent answered shortly. 

Aemond was excited to finally see the Island he had read so much about. He knew their history, their riches and goods they traded with the entirety of the realm. The Ixtal Islands were the most plentiful and prosperous house in the realm and he was in awe to see his readings come to life before him.

It was the socialization he dreaded. 

Nobles would look at Aegon with respect, respect he didn’t deserve even being the first born son of the King. Helaena would be regarded with reverence, a comparison to the Realm’s Delight. 

But he was nothing more than a second son, easily brushed over.

Daeron was still just a babe, too young to understand the slight they possessed not having been born first, but Aemond understood all too well. 

Their family was escorted into a grand throne room and Aemond was in awe of the intricate ornaments that decorated the hall and he briefly wondered why King’s Landing was where the most powerful man in the realm sat when this place existed.

His wide eyes eagerly took in every sight in front of him, admiring how the vast forest behind the castle casted a mystical green glow on the room from the giant window sitting behind the intricate gold throne. 

“Viserys!” A cheerful voice called and for the first time in a long time, Aemond heard his father laugh, a genuinely delighted sound as he embraced his friend.

Aegon shared a brief look with him, his shock at hearing his father's laughter clear in the way he furrowed his brows in bitterness.

“It’s been too long, my friend.” 

“Alicent, always a delight to see you, my dear.” 

Aemond noted the blush on his mother’s cheeks as the charming lord embraced her. He shifted on his feet as his siblings were introduced. He knew what came next, the flippant dismissal was familiar yet it stung each time. 

He looked up as the Lord shook hands with Aegon and gave Helaena a polite nod, her body language giving him the signal she wasn’t comfortable with anything else. 

As he stepped in front of Aemond, he suddenly felt two feet tall under the man’s gaze. Until he smiled. It was a gesture filled with warmth he hadn’t been expecting.

“Aemond, a strong name for a strong lad.” The lord clapped his shoulder and Aemond felt his body straighten, his confidence reappearing the second he realized he wasn’t going to be passed over yet again.

He looked up at the Lord with a smile, feeling more respected by the stranger in front of him than he ever had from his own father.

“You remember my wife,” The Lord gestured to a finely dressed woman who smiled and bowed to them courteously. 

“My son and-” The lord stopped abruptly, suddenly noticing the absence of the person who was supposed to be next in line and looked to his wife who was already wincing, having expected the abrupt drop in conversation due to their eldest daughter’s absence.

“My apologies, my daughter has lived here all her life yet still feels the need to explore.” The Lady of Ixtal explained, the lack of anger in her voice that gave way to begrudging acceptance made it obvious this was a common occurrence.

Viserys laughed and looked at his friend. 

“You could not possibly think your children would give you any trouble, would you?” He chided sarcastically to the Lord who could only laugh in delight at his beloved daughter’s antics. 

Aemond watched the interaction with wide eyes, intrigued by the sense of ease that surrounded everything. 

If they were in King’s Landing and he was late to an event, his mother would have his hyde.

Suddenly, the great doors slammed open and an armored knight was seen running into the room, his hand latched onto someone small who was giggling in delight.

“My Lord, My Lady, I am so sorry, she wanted-”

“It’s quite alright, Ser Jerrod. I know my daughter could not have made it easy for you.” The Lord dismissed the unnecessary apology and smiled down at his daughter who smiled somewhat sheepishly as she passed by to take her place in line. 

She smoothed her hands down the front of her silk dress and stood straighter, putting on the air of the perfect and primed daughter, as if they hadn’t all just seen her enter in a tizzy five minutes late.

Her mother looked down at her and leaned over her brother’s shoulder to pluck a leaf from her disheveled hair. Her eyes widened slightly, fearing retribution for her antics, but her mother only raised a teasing brow, silently admonishing her. 

The girl brushed her messy hair off her shoulder and finally moved her gaze to their guests, a smile coming to her face as she met the eyes of the silver haired boy in front of her.

Aemond was rooted to his spot, his expression one of perplexed confusion. The smile she sent him, the gesture which was so simple - and usually faked by most at court - was blinding. 

He was taken aback by the fact that she hadn’t looked at the powerful presence that was the King or the Queen faithfully at his side. She hadn’t looked at Aegon, Daeron or even Helaena, the only girl close to her age in the room. 

She looked at him first. 

She smiled at him first.

It was a gesture that wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, but to him, it meant everything, it lifted the veil of neglect he was so familiar with from his shoulders, leaving him to feel lighter than before.

He listened as the Lord introduced his daughter and he ran her name over and over in his head, feeling his cheeks heat, a blush easily coming to his face as she greeted everyone, but her stare came back to him, smiling shyly.

~~

“This place is beautiful.” Helaena spoke dreamily as she took in their surroundings. 

They were granted leave to look around while the servants prepared to set up the welcome feast. 

Aemond couldn't take his eyes off the white sand and the crystal blue water. He breathed deeply, relieved to smell nothing but fresh flowers and ocean water and not the filth that permeated King’s Landing.

“Father should take over this place.” Aegon mused, earning looks of disdain from his siblings, which he easily shrugged off. “What? It’s much better than our shithole of a home.” 

Aemond rolled his eyes at his brother’s crass nature and kept walking, praying Aegon would somehow get lost or at least get bored of his company and leave. 

The sound of a loud laugh caught all of their attention and they walked their way through the lavish gardens to find it. Aemond suddenly became nervous as he saw the children of the Lord and Lady of Ixtal. 

The oldest son was playing some sort of ball game with his younger brother. The youngest sibling was reading quietly with her Septa. But the eldest daughter was nowhere to be found. 

As they stepped forward, the youngest son straightened and nudged his brother to stop. Catching sight of the young Targaryen princes and princess they let the ball they were playing with drop to the ground as they bowed respectfully. 

“Hello.” Helaena spoke brightly and the two young boys were helpless against her sweet nature and they both smiled and greeted her warmly.

“Where’s the other one?” Aegon asked rudely, looking around for the pretty girl from earlier who was missing. 

Aemond grit his teeth, praying Aegon wouldn’t drive her away before he even had the chance to speak to her.

“She’s in her tree.”

“Her tree?” 

The oldest brother pointed to the enormous willow tree behind them. 

He called out to his sister, alerting her to the presence of the royal children and just seconds later, Aemond watched with a slowly growing smile as a lithe form began to descend the ancient tree. 

She was slightly out of breath as she jumped the last few feet to the ground, brushing her already tangled hair out of her face as she practically skipped towards them.

As if her Septa’s teachings and her mother’s scolding from that morning had finally caught up to her, the smile on her face fell slightly, remembering she was in the presence of royalty. She slowed her pace and curtsied slightly clumsily as she came before them. 

“It is lovely to see you all again. I hope you are enjoying Ixtal.”

Aemond felt his face heat with a deep blush at the sound of her voice, the slight accent he heard capturing him instantly and he wished nothing more than to take the book from her young sister’s hands and demand she read it to him just so he could continue to hear the beautiful sound of her voice. 

“Your home is lovely. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Helaena spoke, breaking him from his thoughts. She moved towards the girl, the two of them engaging in easy conversation. 

Aegon began speaking with the two brothers, learning the rules to the ball game they were playing, the young boys instantly getting along. Which left Aemond to stand by himself. 

He shifted on his feet anxiously, contemplating if he should leave and find his mother. He’d at least have someone to talk to then. The pit in his stomach that grew as the familiar feeling of loneliness settled over him broke abruptly at the sound of the beautiful voice again.

“Would you like to sit?”

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers and for a moment, he wondered if she had actually been speaking to him. His gaze found Helaena who was now kneeling to talk to the youngest of the children who was mesmerized by her lavish dress.

Which left the oldest daughter alone and her gaze on him. 

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and stepped forward slowly, his heart racing as he took a seat on the bench next to her. 

“What are you writing?” He asked after clearing his throat, wincing to himself at the nerves that lingered in his words. 

“Drawing actually.” She corrected. “And not very well by the looks of it.” She shifted closer to him to show him the sketches in her notebook, the scent of lavender invading every one of his senses as her shoulder brushed against his.

His eyes looked over the shaky drawings of flowers and the willow tree she had been sitting in just moments ago. 

“They’re beautiful.”

She smiled and the sight was enough to leave Aemond thankful that he was sitting. 

“Do you draw?”

“No, nowhere near as well as you.”

“You must be shit then because these are awful.”

Aemond choked on his breath at her words, his wide eyes looking over at her in shock. She had a carelessness to her that he thought he would’ve found arrogant, it was certainly how he felt about the other ladies at court who were so brazen before him. 

But he found he could only feel enamored by the girl beside him. 

A quiet laugh escaped him, his stomach flipping in ways he had never felt before. 

“They’re not so bad.” He spoke quietly, his nerves reverting him to his bashful nature. 

“You’re quite the flatterer, Aemond.”

No words came to him, he was left to stare back at her, completely taken aback by her easy nature and blinding smile. 

She continued to show him her other sketches, the conversation between them flowing easily, something that Aemond had never experienced. 

Later, as their guards escorted them away to prepare for the feast, Aemond’s ears rang with the sound of her laughter, leaving him to hope he would hear it again before he had to leave. 

He spent the night with a smile on his face, behaving more animatedly than he had in all his life. Alicent had looked at her second son with barely contained emotion, delighted to see him so at ease. 

She was so caught up in her emotions, she hadn’t even noticed how his eyes never strayed too far from the eldest daughter of Ixtal. 

~~

The mischievous island girl was known to walk around the halls of the castle at all hours. It had happened so often for so long the guards didn’t bother to stop her anymore and no one batted an eye when they saw her wandering. 

She made her way to her parents chamber hours after she had been put to bed. 

She couldn’t stop the thought in her head and she had to see it through. 

With a smile to the guard at her parent’s door, she strolled in as if it were her own chamber. Her parents looked startled for all of a second before they sighed in resignation. 

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Darling?”

“I was.” 

Her father huffed out a laugh. “So what brings you here, Troublemaker?”

She let out a breath, her shoulders straightening, as if portraying herself as proper would help her cause. 

“I want to go with you to King’s Landing.”

Her request did not go over as easily as she wished, she spent the next hour arguing with her parents, pleading her case. She may have overstated how much her decision to learn more about court, but her parents did not need to know her desire lay purely with her need to explore what the Capitol could offer. 

Her parents knew she loved to explore and the chance to see a new part of the realm was too tempting to not indulge her in. Her parents loved her more than anything, they loved and doted on all their children in ways that left Lords and Ladies from other houses to scoff and roll their eyes in disdain. 

They couldn’t say no to her. 

By the next morning, she stood at her father’s side as their ship sailed to King’s Landing, her arm linked through his, her head filled with the wonders of what this new place would have to offer. 

A smile grew on her lips as she pictured the shy boy who had complimented her drawings and her excitement began to grow. 

~~

She was more reserved than she had ever been as she sat beside the table of royals. King Viserys had planned an extravagant welcome feast for the Lord of Ixtal, his new Master of Coin and his daughter to welcome them to King’s Landing. 

She had never experienced so many Lords and Ladies approaching her before, giving her their hand to shake and curtsey before them in greeting. It felt as though she had never truly existed until she made it to the Capitol, where the matters of the court actually held weight and prospect.

Her father had regaled many a knight and Lord over the course of the night, leaving her by his side to sit quietly, the overlooked daughter. She knew the power her house held, she knew the reason most Lords gave their good fortune to her father was to ensure their trade routes would continue prosperously. She knew she was nothing more than fodder at her father’s side.

She picked at her food unhappily, contemplating her decision to venture so far from her home, so far from what was comfortable. Her eyes rose from her plate, surveying the large throne room before her, catching sight of her father in talks with a large group of Lords from around the realm. 

With a heavy sigh, knowing she couldn’t interrupt her father, her eyes moved to the head table where the Targaryen family sat. 

The head seat where the King sat was empty, he was busy at her father’s side. She let her eyes roam over the queen, taking in her quiet servitude and demure presence. Her gaze fell to the heir, Princess Rhaenyra sat with her husband Laenor Valaryon, her brows quickly rising at the sight of the brown haired children sat beside the silver-headed wedded pair. 

Her eyes fell to Queen Alicent’s children, a small smile growing as she caught the gaze of Princess Helaena, the quiet girl sparing her a wave to which she eagerly reciprocated. 

She was never one to fade into the background and she eagerly took the Princess’ gesture as a sign of goodwill, standing from her seat to make her way to the head table. 

Helaena beamed at the girl as she approached, oblivious to her elder brother’s lustful intrigue and her younger brother who sat up straighter as the girl approached. 

“Hello, my Lady, I hope King’s Landing is treating you well.” Helaena greeted the girl happily. 

“It is lovely, Princess. I am sincerely grateful to your father for allowing myself and my father to reside in your home.”

“We are delighted to have you.” Helaena assured her. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment, her face turning bashful for a moment. “The ladies of the court will be gathering tomorrow, you should join.”

“I’d love to.” She responded eagerly, relieved to know her newfound solitude would not be long held. 

“You should join us for breakfast as well. I can show you my collection.” Helaena added excitedly. 

“By the Gods, Helaena.” Aegon groaned beside her. 

“Collection?” She asked, staunchly ignoring the prince sitting next to the blushing princess.

“My insects. I’ve collected quite a beautiful group of them. I’d love to show you.”

Helaena had a lovely innocence to her she was powerless against. 

“I’d be delighted to see them.” She told the princess sincerely, hoping she had found a friend in the eccentric girl. “I’ve also heard wonderful things about your library. I’m eager to read the works about Valryian history and the Targaryen dynasty. There are only rumors where I come from.”

Aemond sat forward in his seat, his eagerness to interject himself finally coming to a head.

“I can show you to the library.” Aemond offered, finally making his presence known. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to take you from your duties.”

“You won’t.” He insisted, positive his face was blooming with a pink blush as her attention now lay on him. “There are many books that have not been translated, I would be happy to read them to you.”

He seemed to melt under her gaze that watched him curiously. 

“You would do that?”

“Of course.” He insisted.

“That would be wonderful.” 

He was thankful he was sitting because her smile would have knocked him off his feet. 

By the next morning, as soon as the sun rose, he was sitting in the library, anxiously anticipating her arrival. He didn’t have to wait long until the door creaked open and her eager eyes took in the vast shelves around her. 

She greeted him with happiness as if they were long time friends, causing his stomach to flutter in ways he had never felt before. 

“This is incredible.” She mused, eyeing the many books she had to indulge in.

They spent the afternoon together, her at his side as he read the Valryian texts of their history, stopping every few minutes to answer the many intrigued questions she had. 

Aemond was sure his face was on fire, he had never blushed so hard. No one had ever taken such an interest in him, no one had ever paid so much attention to him, no one had ever bothered to listen to him.

But here she was, this girl at his side, eager to know more, asking question after question, trusting him to give her the answer. As soon as he began to fear he had spoken too much, taken too much of her time she’d drawl out ‘tell me more’ or ‘what happened next’ and he was rooted to his seat, turning to the next page as he explained the history of the Targaryen dynasty to her eager ears. 

He had never felt so important. 

~~

King’s Landing proved to be just as wondrous as she dreamed it. Granted, it didn’t have the luxurious beaches or sprawling forests her home did, but she was just thrilled to be exploring a new corner of the world.

Aemond had quickly become her closest ally. He had taken to showing her every inch of the place he thought she would enjoy, dragging her along to the mazes of gardens, the weirwood tree, the luxurious Sept, but her favorite had to be the library. She had spent many late nights with Aemond at her side, perusing through the many ancient works of Valyrian history. 

It fascinated her, but she couldn’t deny she loved to hear Aemond’s voice as he read to her, enthralled with stories of Aegon the Conqueror and his two sister-wives, stories of ancient dragons and their riders, of wars long passed.

A week into their stay, as she broke her fast with her father, she was practically bouncing in her seat, shoveling her food into her mouth as quickly as she could, eager to get the meal over with so she could meet with Aemond and Helaena, the two of them quickly becoming her closest confidants.  

“Slow down, my love, you’re going to choke.” Her father warned with a chuckle at her enthusiasm. 

“Sorry.” She mumbled through the food in her mouth, causing her father to grimace at her very unlady-like behavior. 

“Your eagerness wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Targaryen, would it?” He asked slowly, his knowing smile teasing her clear affection for the young boy she was growing closer to each day. 

“Helaena and I are good friends.” She shrugged, effectively dodging her father’s prying. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, watching her thoughtfully. He had no idea where she had gained such a witty mouth, it certainly wasn’t from him or his sweet, quiet wife. 

She finished the rest of her breakfast at record speed and hopped out of her seat, pressing a quick kiss to her father’s cheek.

“I’ll see you at dinner!” She called out over her shoulder as she skipped to the door. 

“Be safe!” He called out, but she was already racing down the halls. He looked to the guard at the door pointedly who nodded and trailed after the rambunctious girl. 

She slowed her pace once she reached the courtyard, suddenly very aware of the many eyes that would be on her if she was caught sprinting through the halls. She spotted a head of silver hair by the gates and she beamed, throwing all care out the window as she began to jog towards him.

“Aemond!” She called out and watched as the boy turned to her, his own smile growing at the sight of her. 

“Took you long enough.” He jested playfully and reveled in the dramatic scowl she sent him. 

“I’m not late. You are just an insane man that voluntarily wakes with the sun.” 

It was so small, something so miniscule, but it still managed to make his heart race. Knowing she remembered a small detail about him, no matter if it was something that was so inconsequential, was something he couldn’t wrap his head around.

He hadn’t expected it to affect him the way it did.

~~~

She found herself with Helaena in the gardens, finding any bugs she could for the enigmatic

princess. Digging a jittery bug out of the dirt, her nose scrunched in distaste as the many legged creature crawled over her hand.

“What is this thing?”

Helaena peered over curiously and a wide smile beamed on her face.

“That’s a beetle.”

“They’re not poisonous, are they?”

The princess laughed in amusement at the widened eyes that met her gaze and she shook her head. “No, you’re safe.”

The girl nodded and, though still on edge, was less stressed as she held the bug in her hands. 

Helaena, preoccupied with her own bugs, stole frequent looks at the girl next to her, noting the unease in her eyes. She smiled lightly and leaned in close to her.

“You don’t have to do this with me. I know not everyone likes the things I like. I can do this by myself.”

The girl looked startled by her words, a frown growing on her usually bright features and she looked down at the bug in her hands again, her eyes shifting from a look of disgust to one of determination, as if she could force herself to not feel grossed out at their existence.

“I like being here with you.” She said softly. “I don’t really have anyone else here.”

Helaena frowned, the thought of her brother immediately coming to mind and the smile that would grace his usually sullen face every time he was with the Island girl. As if she had conjured him herself, she looked over her shoulder, noticing him coming their way.

“Hello, Brother.” She smiled, though it was futile as his attention was locked onto the beauty beside her.

“Hello.” He spoke, though his eyes never left his sister’s friend. “What are you doing?”

“Finding bugs. Would you like to join?”

Helaena, having expected a ‘no’, given it was always Aemond’s answer anytime she asked him for help digging through the gardens, was shocked as he took a seat among them and dug his hands in the dirt before them without question.

The Princess watched with barely contained delight as her brother and friend immediately started conversing as if she weren’t there, the comfortable ease between them thriving. 

Usually she would feel slighted by such an occurrence, but rather than feeling ignored, she was happy to see her brother, who was usually so serious, look completely unburdened. She worried about him, about how tightly wound he was, but since the Lord of Ixtal and his daughter had come to King’s Landing, she had noticed his demeanor change, as if he could finally take a deep breath and release the things that so often held him down.

Aemond looked at the dirt beneath his fingernails and mourned at what his night routine would be subjected to, but he found he didn’t care all that much. The stolen glances to the girl beside him had all sense of propriety out the window. 

“Do you do this every day, Princess?” She asked the Targaryen who shrugged shyly.

“Most days. I find I prefer the company of bugs over people.”

The bark of laughter that left her had both the siblings smiling, her joyful nature contagious. 

Aemond was transfixed, until he heard his name and he was forced out of his daydreams. He looked up at Aegon who was standing before them, judgment painting his features.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re digging for bugs, Brother.” Helaena answered innocently, her eyes thankfully locked onto the caterpillar on her finger so she didn’t see how her brother rolled his eyes in disdain.

Aemond glowered at his brother, his mood dampened, his protectiveness for his sister rising involuntarily whenever he was around. He hated seeing Helaena’s eyes dim with every one of his hurtful words.

The Island girl looked between the siblings, beginning to understand just how different they were to her and her own siblings. The more time she spent with Aegon, the more she disliked him. She looked back at Aemond and frowned, noticing the dower expression grow on her friend’s face, and she called his name. 

“Hmm?”

“What are these?” She asked, her dirt covered fingers trailing over the petals of the flowers in front of them, diverting his attention from Aegon.

“Marigolds.” He answered quickly, as if he wanted her to be impressed by his knowledge. “You don’t have these in Ixtal?”

“No. It’s a shame, they’re beautiful.”

Aemond bit his lip, his heart racing as she moved back to digging for bugs. He ignored the nerves that coursed through him and reached out to pluck the flower. 

“Here.”

She looked up and her eyes widened, her cheeks burning as he tucked the flower behind her ear, his shy smile mirroring hers, his hesitance clear, but his bravery clearer.

Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes at the pair. 

The noise caused them both to glare at the older Targaryen, their eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

“You two are pathetic.”

“It’s not our fault your pea sized brain cannot comprehend the idea of caring for someone other than yourself.” She snarked easily, making Aemond’s eyes widen as he nervously looked between her and his brother whose face twisted in anger.

Thankfully, his brother was smart enough to know not to start a fight with her and he stomped away, most likely in search of more wine.

“You shouldn’t do that.” Aemond mumbled, his worried eyes lingering on his brother’s figure as he stormed off.

“Do what?”

“Antagonize him.” 

“Someone needs to knock him off his high horse. Why can’t it be me?” She shrugged, perfectly content to be the antagonist in Aegon Targaryen’s life.

“Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why would anything happen to me?”

“Because… he’s… it’s Aegon.” He stressed, as if his brother’s existence was enough explanation.

“Yes, and he’s an absolute cock.”

Aemond’s eyes widened, not expecting the vulgar word to leave her lips. Helaena giggled and leaned into the girl at her side. His shoulders slumped and he allowed himself to laugh, amazed yet not surprised at her ability to evade him of his worries. 

~~

A body crashed into her as she turned the corner, almost knocking her off balance, but arms that quickly wrapped around her waist stopped her from falling to the floor. 

She recognized the boy immediately. 

“Aemond.” She greeted breathlessly with a smile. He pulled away from her instantly, taking a step back to create space between them, his head bowed downwards, avoiding her gaze. 

But she saw the tear streaks through the stains of ash on his cheeks. Her smile fell and she stepped towards him, her hands gently lifting his chin, though he vehemently refused and harshly pulled himself away from her. 

“What happened?” She asked, trying to keep the hurt from her voice at his avoidance, something she had never experienced from him.

“Nothing.”

“Aemond.” She admonished gently. She hated when he acted like this, so unlike the kind boy she knew. 

He kept his head down and she sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what happened.” 

Aemond huffed and side stepped around her to continue on his way to lock himself in his chambers and wallow, but she was too quick. She grabbed his hand to stop him and pulled him back towards her. 

He spoke her name, the groaned pronunciation indicating he wasn’t in the mood. 

“I just want to go to my chambers.”

“Fine. We can go together.” She said simply and linked her arm through his as they began to walk.

Aemond let out a long breath, his annoyance flaring for a second, but the moment he looked over at her it faded away into nothing. He brought his arm that was linked with hers closer to his chest, as if needing her touch to soothe his nerves. 

He thought he wanted to be alone. After his mother had brushed off his tears and scolded him yet again for venturing through the dragon pit, he just wanted to wallow by himself, but with her arm in his, her steady presence at his side, he found he wanted nothing but to be with her.

Once they made it to his chambers, he reluctantly let go of her and practically slumped his way to sit on his bed, his head bowed down to his feet, his brother and nephews' latest prank ruminating in his head, causing shame and anger to cascade over every inch of him. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened now or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

Aemond huffed at her words and began to fidget with his fingers, focusing on the sand that lingered on his skin rather than meeting her inquisitive gaze. 

She rolled her eyes and moved to sit next to him on the bed, brushing the sand from his hair. 

“Were you in the dragon pit again?”

He nodded wordlessly and she felt something inside her clench. She would never understand the hole in Aemond’s heart, how his lack of a dragon made him feel so worthless. 

“They said they found a dragon for me.” He mumbled, causing her to look over at him with concern, her stomach sinking at the hurt she heard in his voice, knowing his dreams hadn’t come true that afternoon. 

She knew it could only be a cruel prank at his expense. 

“They gave me a pig.”

Her shoulders slumped, her hand reaching out to grab his, intertwining their fingers with an ease as though she had done it a million times before. She had only held his hand a few times and it made Aemond blush bright red every time, even now as he wallowed. 

“I’m sorry. They shouldn’t be so cruel to you.”

“They’re right. It’s pathetic, a Targaryen without a dragon.”

“Aemond-”

“Maybe I’m not worthy and I’ll never get a dragon, maybe that’s why my egg never hatched. I don’t deserve it.”

“Stop it.” She spoke sternly, gripping onto both his hands in an effort to calm him down from his ranting. “You are every bit as good as any one of them, dragon or no dragon.”

Aemond sighed shakily and moved his gaze back down to his shoes, feeling as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“What if I never find one?” He asked quietly, as if afraid to speak the possibility out into existence. 

“You will. I know you will.” She assured him, though it did little to release him from his sadness. “There are plenty of Targaryens that didn’t claim dragons until later in life.”

Aemond gave her a plain look, to which she just smirked. Serves him right for teaching her about his family history. 

“Aemond, we’re young, we still have so much life to live. It’s not over because you don’t have a dragon yet. You have so much time to find what you’ve always wanted.”

The breath that escaped his lips left him feeling lighter, his hand finally gripping hers back, sending a bashful smile her way, hoping it was enough to convey how grateful he was for her. 

He didn’t think he could ever find the words to tell her. 

“You’d be with me, won’t you? For my first ride?”

“You would want me there?”

“Of course I would.” 

She smiled and he was powerless but to return his own. “Then I’ll be there.”

~~

Aemond’s glare was steady on his face, his eyes locked onto the Strong bastard that twirled her around. 

How dare he ask her to dance, how dare he touch her, how dare he make her smile.

His disdain for his nephews was clear, they certainly didn’t give him much reason to be cordial, but this was the last straw. Seeing Jacaerys’ hands on her made his blood boil. 

Those damned nephews of his had already stolen her away from his side that afternoon. He could only watch helplessly as she played around with the bastards and spoke politely to his half sister Rhaenyra. 

He almost resented how sweet his friend was. He loved her kind heart, he just hated when it extended to his elder half sister and her sons who he despised. 

He hated when Jacaerys and Lucerys stole her away from his side. It was happening more and more as they became closer. He felt like he was losing her, the more times she spent breaking her fast with his eldest sister and her brood, the more he dreaded every moment away from her. 

She was his only friend, the only one he felt truly understood him, or at least made the effort to. Losing her would mean losing the only shred of happiness he’d managed to find for himself. 

He averted his gaze from Jace and the Ixtal girl, the sight of both their bright smiles becoming too painful.

“They seem to get along well.” His father mused, prompting Aemond to torturously follow his gaze to the pair yet again. 

His heart began to race at the insinuation, at the knowing look in his father’s twinkling eyes. 

“Yes, he seems to be quite taken with her.” Rhaenyra noted with a loving smile. 

“They’d make a fine match.” His mother added. Aemond looked to his mother, betrayal in his gaze. His mother knew how much his friend meant to him, she knew someone so precious shouldn’t be shackled to a bastard. 

He refused to hear another word. His chair screeched loudly against the floor as he abruptly stood and made his way out of the room as if there were no air left for him to breathe. They couldn’t take her away from him, they couldn’t give her to that bastard. 

He raced to his chambers, hoping he was quick enough that no passing guards could see the tears forming in his eyes. 

By the next day, he found himself in the gardens, his eyes locked onto the open book in his lap as he read and re-read the same sentence over and over, his racing mind not allowing him to focus on the words in front of him. 

The dread he had been feeling since the night before had not dissipated in the slightest.

“Aemond!” 

His heart leapt within his chest at the sound of her voice. His hopeful eyes looked around the garden before landing on her and a feeling of lead settled within him, bringing him right back down to his dour mood as he noticed Jace and Lucerys beside her. 

She motioned for him to join but he just shook his head softly and moved his gaze back down to his book. 

He let out a long breath, trying his hardest to ignore the bitterness that grew in his heart, one that was all too familiar from before he met her. He startled slightly as a body slumped next to him. He looked up and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of her looking at him questioningly.

“Why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

She breathed deeply, as if disappointed by his obvious lie. “Why didn’t you join us?”

He shrugged, he couldn’t very well tell her the truth about how he despised his nephews and seeing her with them was like a dagger to the heart, how he feared losing her, his greatest friend. 

“I didn’t want to intrude.” He spoke softly. 

Her eyes narrowed at his words, her gaze moving to the two Velaryon boys who were talking quietly amongst each other, their curious eyes occasionally drifting to her and Aemond. 

She knew there was tension among them, the way they seemed to side with Aegon and play along in the cruel pranks he would play on Aemond always made her stomach twist. She suddenly felt guilty that she had never considered how it would make Aemond feel to be forced in their vicinity after how they treated him. 

She turned to her friend and shuffled closer to him. 

“You could never intrude.”

Aemond looked over at her, but quickly averted his gaze, finding it just too much to look in her eyes while she sat so close to him. 

“You don’t have to stay with me. If you want to be with them, I won’t stop you.” He spoke quietly. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel smothered by him. 

“I’d rather be with you.”

Her answer left him using all of his willpower to keep himself from marching directly to his father and demanding a betrothal this instant. 

She chose him. 

No one had ever chosen him.

~~

She was bored out of her mind. With Aemond and Helaena gone to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral, she was left without her closest confidants, leaving her little to do in their absence. She wished she’d been granted leave to attend the funeral with them, but her father had never met Laena and had been tasked with extra duties while the King was gone, leaving her to stew in her loneliness.

She was curled up on the settee by her bed, her sketchbook in her lap as she scrawled out an attempt at drawing Dreamfyre, to horrible failure. 

A soft knock on her door made her lift her head and she sat up straighter when her father entered. The look on his face made her stomach twist, dread falling upon her like a crashing wave. 

She got to her feet quickly, feeling unsteady on her now weak legs.

“Darling, there was an… incident on Driftmark.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart racing. “What happened?”

“I wasn’t privy to all the details but all I know is that Aemond has been injured.” 

The breath was knocked out of her and at the first sign of her face crumbling into despair, her father crossed the room and held her tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as the first sob broke free. 

“Is he alright?”

Her father let out a long breath at her hiccuped words, holding her tightly. He knew his daughter had certain affections for the young boy, but hearing her now made him realize just how deeply she cared for him. 

“The Maesters say he has lost an eye.” 

A shuddering breath escaped her and she suddenly felt faint. She had no idea how, what could have unfolded, who would dare to do something so barbaric to him. 

The next days were spent in agony. She barely left her chambers. Every time her father came to check in on her, he found her sitting by her window, her gaze locked onto the horizon, waiting eagerly for the Targaryen family’s arrival. 

On the third day of her lonely torment, she finally spotted it. Dragons on the horizon. She was on her feet in a second and racing down to the courtyard. She was out of breath and disheveled by the time she made it, but her pace only quickened when she saw Helaena with her mother. 

She called out to her friend and Helaena let out a breath of relief when she saw her, her arms opening for her as she approached. 

Helaena didn’t let many touch her, but she was one of the lucky few she allowed. 

“Are you alright? Where’s Aemond? Will he be ok?” She fired off questions, not even able to get a breath out through her frantic words. 

“It’s alright, my Darling. Aemond will be fine.” Alicent consoled her, placing her arm around the shaking girl’s shoulders.

“Where is he?”

“He’s been taken to the Maester’s solar. He’ll have to spend some time there while he heals.” 

“What happened?” She asked breathlessly.

“What I told him.” Helaena interjected calmly. “He gained a dragon, but he had to close an eye.” 

She looked at Helaena with shock. “He… he claimed a dragon?”

She couldn’t make sense of the despair, relief and joy she had felt all at once. Knowing Aemond and his endless plight to gain a dragon, she knew he would see it a worthy trade, but the thought of him injured, permanently maimed, made her want to crumble to the ground below her. 

After bidding goodbye to Alicent and Helaena, she made her way to the Maester’s wing of the Keep. She was denied entry, but she was determined to not let it stop her. Each day, at the crack of dawn, she’d drag herself out of bed and, before even breaking her fast, would make the trek to the Maester’s wing and ask to see Aemond.

She was refused each and every day, but it did little to deter her. She kept trying. 

It had been weeks since she had seen Aemond. Her heart was aching without the presence of her best friend, without the boy that made her smile like no other could. 

On the fifth day of the third week, as she made the familiar walk to his door, the guard stopped her, as usual, though his words were different.

“The Prince does not wish for any visitors.” 

She frowned. It always used to be the order of the Maesters or Alicent, claiming her son needed his rest, but now it was Aemond himself refusing her. 

She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but she knew she had felt her heart crack in a way she had never felt before. 

She walked away from the door with her head bowed in defeat.

The hurt she felt mirrored Aemond’s own. Refusing her made him ache, but the thought of her seeing him as he was and looking at him with disgust was unfathomable and he would delay that inevitable despair as long as he could. 

He sulked in his bed, the dour expression on his face one that had been constant for weeks. 

His mother was by his bedside as she had been for weeks. He couldn’t stand to see her wince or her teary eyes everytime she looked at his ghastly scar. 

She had been trying, in no subtle terms, to get him out of the room, even going as far to bring up his friend, the one he longed to see yet dreaded ever seeing the same look on his mother’s face on hers. 

“It’s been a few weeks. She’s been worrying herself sick.” His mother told him, making his already weak heart more fragile. 

He stayed silent, his frown deepening in despair. 

“Aegon and Helaena will be heading out tomorrow to Ixtal. You should take Vhagar and join them.”

Aemond shifted uncomfortably. He knew his friend was leaving tomorrow, to visit home for her mother’s name day. They had all been invited, but with his father’s fading health and his mother’s refusal to ride on dragonback, it left just Aegon and Helaena to join the festivities. 

“Aemond.” His mother prompted again, the disappointment in her voice clear. 

“I don’t want to go.” He mumbled, one of the few sentences he’d managed over the past few weeks. 

His mother sighed in defeat and didn’t bring it up again for the rest of the night, leaving him to his solitude as he preferred. 

The next morning, Aemond lay in bed, the wound over his eye itching gratingly. He longed to claw at the wicked scar, to scream in anger, to enact his vengeance on that Strong bastard. The fury festered in him like the open wound on his face, red and flaming. 

The soft sound of his door opening and closing made him stir, assuming it was his mother yet again. As he lazily turned his head, dread settled in his stomach, his remaining eye widening in horror at the sight of her, the one he longed for yet resisted. 

She froze in her place at the door, her jaw falling slack, a shaking hand covering her mouth as a hitched breath escaped her at the sight of him. 

Aemond’s face twisted in agony. This was exactly what he wished to avoid. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked angrily, tears forming in his remaining eye. 

“I just wanted- I wanted… we’re leaving soon.” 

It was faint but he heard it. Fear. The stuttering of her words, the quiet, almost docile way she spoke that was so unlike her was like a hatchet to his heart. The look on her face was even worse. She could barely make eye contact with him.

“Get out.” He spoke lowly through gritted teeth.

“Aemond, I-”

“Get out! I don’t want you here!” He screamed at her, tears steadily falling down his cheeks. 

Her own tears began to fall, her face twisting with agony. He hated it. He didn’t want her pity, he didn’t want to see the disgust on her face that everyone would face him with for the rest of his life. 

“Leave me alone! I never want to see you again!” 

She let out a sob and turned on her heel, leaving the room with haste. 

Aemond slumped back in bed, placing his hands over his face, ignoring the way it made his eye ache, and he cried for what he had lost. 

Not just his eye, but his love, his happiness. His everything. 

~~

She stood on the balcony of the banquet hall, breathing in the fresh ocean air. She missed home. She had thought of this moment for weeks, had been eager and excited to finally visit, yet now that she was there, it was bittersweet. 

The sound of the waves weren’t as peaceful as she remembered. The food she ate wasn’t as delicious as she remembered. The music and the dancing wasn’t as exciting as she remembered. 

“Darling?”

She turned to see her mother approaching, concern written across her face as she moved to stand next to her daughter, her arm crossing over her shoulders, bringing her in close to her side. 

“Are you alright? I thought I’d see you dancing all night.”

“I’m fine.”

The Lady of Ixtal looked to her once vibrant daughter worriedly. She was far from the girl that had left all those months ago. From all the letters she had sent, it seemed her daughter was having the time of her life in King’s Landing. The girl she saw now wasn’t the one who had gleaned nothing but happiness.

“Was it not what you expected?”

She stiffened, the need to defend her friends and her new found home rising. “No, it’s- King’s Landing is lovely.”

Her mother sighed. She had gotten a short re-telling of the last few weeks in the Capitol from her husband and she was starting to put the pieces together. 

“I couldn’t help but notice your friend isn’t here.” 

She looked up at her mother, her wide doe-like eyes giving everything away. 

“Aemond?”

She felt her cheeks heat and she turned her attention back to the view before her, focusing on the waves of the ocean, mirroring her breathing with each crashing wave. 

“He’s not my friend anymore.” She spoke quietly through the lump that grew in her throat. 

“From what I’ve heard, it sounds as though he is going through an awful time, something no one, especially someone so young, should ever have to endure. People don’t exactly act rationally when they are hurt. It is easy to speak things that are untrue in that state.”

She stayed silent, taking in her mother’s words thoughtfully. It was easy enough to explain, but it didn’t lessen the hurt she felt. 

“You can stay here if you wish. The Gods know I would love to keep you in my arms, but I don’t think that is truly what you want.”

She let out a shaking breath, her mind a mess as she thought of her life in King’s Landing, of what she’d be leaving behind. But, if Aemond was being truthful and he didn’t want to see her or be her friend anymore, what would her life be like there?

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Her mother assured her. “Or else we’ll have a dragon landing on our shores demanding you come back.”

The smile on her mother’s face made the hurt inside her melt away slightly. Her conviction that Aemond would forgive her for her intrusion, that he would bring her back into his life and his arms made her hopeful. 

Her mother was never wrong and she prayed she wouldn’t start now. 

~~

She clutched onto Helaena’s waist as they flew on Dreamfyre back to King’s Landing. No matter how thrilling it was to ride a dragon, no matter that she felt as light as a feather, that she could touch the clouds and feel as though she was in a magical, untouchable realm, it felt wrong. 

Her first ride shouldn’t have belonged to Helaena, it shouldn’t have been with Dreamfyre. It wasn’t what she promised. 

As they dismounted, Helaena’s hand held hers and stayed, holding tightly as they made their way from the dragonpit to the Keep, as if knowing her friend needed the comfort. 

As they parted, Helaena promised she’d spend the day with her tomorrow, knowing she needed the distraction from Aemond.

She smiled, though it wasn’t as bright as usual, and with a wave, they parted. She stepped into her chambers and sighed heavily, mourning what her time in King’s Landing would hold. 

She moved to her bed, content to hide under the covers for the rest of the day, but she stopped, noticing a bundle of flowers on her desk. She frowned, she certainly hadn’t put them there before she left. 

She stepped closer, her fingers gently tracing along the soft petals. They were perfectly bloomed and freshly plucked, most likely just placed on her desk mere minutes before she arrived. 

It suddenly struck her. 

They were marigolds. 

She remembered the flower Aemond had tucked behind her ear, the ones he would bring her on occasion simply because he knew she was fond of them. 

Her heart began to race, her stomach flipping at the merest notion that it could’ve been from her best friend. She picked up the bundle, inhaling their fresh scent with a small smile. 

She noticed the slip of parchment below them, the simple words in familiar handwriting brought tears to her eyes. 

I am deeply, truly sorry.

I didn’t mean a word of what I said

Please forgive me

- Your Aemond

Her breath hitched, her chest feeling tight with sorrow. 

The words he had screamed at her that day hurt her deeply, yet the thought of not having Aemond by her side, not having him as her friend, was unfathomable.

She spent the remainder of the day in her chambers, picking sparsely at the food her father had sent to her, knowing she wanted her solitude. By the next morning, having thought of nothing but Aemond all night, she was determined to see the end of their rift.

She dressed quickly and stepped out of her chambers, determined to march her way straight to Aemond, but she was stopped by her guard.

“The Prince has requested your presence in the gardens.” 

The crease in her brow that signaled her determination smoothed out, leaving nothing but hopeful nervousness as she quickly made her way through the halls of the Keep. She ignored the looks of disdain from the ladies of the court as she raced past them, ignoring the whispers of her undignified behavior. 

They were the last things on her mind.

Her heart was racing within her chest as she approached the gardens. She walked the familiar path, one she had taken countless times, to get to their usual meeting spot. Her feet came to an abrupt stop as she turned the last corner and saw him sitting on their bench, the one they always congregated to over the months together. 

Nervous butterflies fluttered within her as she approached him. 

She called out to him softly, cursing herself for how her voice shook in hopeful anticipation. 

Aemond turned to face her and she was shocked to see the eyepatch across his face, covering the angry looking wound she had seen that morning in his chambers. 

Her heart ached at the sight of the red scar that peeked out from the patch. It looked painful and the reminder of what he had gone through, what his own nephew had inflicted on him made her want to cry. 

He spoke her name in greeting, giving her a small, weak smile. He winced slightly, the pull of his cheeks causing his scar to flair with pain. 

Her chest tightened at the sight of him. He seemed smaller, as if he sat hunched over, trying hard not to take up too much space in the world. 

“I’m sorry.” She blurted out before he could speak. He looked up at her incredulously, his stomach twisting at the despair he saw on her face. “I shouldn’t have just barged into your chambers. I knew you wanted privacy and I ignored your wishes and I’m sorry. I never meant-”

Aemond spoke her name breathlessly, stopping her rambling apology. He had never seen her so frantic before, it was unnerving to him, nothing at all like the lively girl he was used to. And it was his fault.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He told her softly. He looked down at his hands that fidgeted in his lap, shame overcoming him as he thought back to that day, when he had yelled at her so callously. He had replayed that moment over and over again in his head for days and it was torturous each time. 

He couldn’t get the sight of her tears out of his head. To know he was the cause was his greatest shame. 

“I’m sorry.” He spoke earnestly, looking her in the eyes intently, hoping she would believe him. “I never should have spoken to you that way. I’m so sorry I made you cry. I never will again, I promise.” 

She let out a long breath, his words stirring something inside her she couldn’t recognize.

He frowned deeply at her lack of reaction, shuffling over and patted the space next to him on the bench, motioning for her to take a seat beside him. 

She moved slowly, hesitantly taking her seat next to him. 

“I’ve never seen you that angry before.” She spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper as she recalled that dreadful day. 

Aemond sighed and bowed his head. 

“I…” He started but soon found he had no words, no excuses for how he had treated her. Nothing would ever make it ok, never to her. “I hated to see you look at me like that.” Was the only thing he could think to say.

“Like what?”

“Like you were horrified of me.”

“I was horrified.” She said and he felt his insides turn to stone, his throat tightening with emotion. “But not of you. Never of you.” She added quickly, causing him to look over at her, his eye wide and shining with unshed tears. 

“But-”

“Aemond, the thought of what happened to you, the thought of you in pain… it hurts me.” 

The vice around his heart lifted instantly. His mind was spinning with the insinuation of her words.

“You… you’re not-”

She reached out, taking his hand in hers, causing words to fail him.

“I could never be afraid of you. I could never feel disgusted by you, I could never think any less of you, or whatever other horrible thing you think I feel for you now. No scar will change how I care for you.”

The weight that had been suffocating him for weeks now seemed to lift just the slightest, allowing him to feel as though he could finally take a breath. 

He let out a shaking breath and tightened his hand in hers. She smiled softly and leaned in closer to his side, letting her head fall to his shoulder, letting him revel in her closeness.

He hated the stares he got from the ladies at court, he hated the winces, the horrified gasps as he passed them. He hated the worried looks he received, as if he was seconds away from collapsing like a weak mannered child. 

But none of it mattered. 

She still cared for him, she was still by his side, her hand in his.

Even the burning fury he held for his nephew seemed dim in the wake of the pure delight he felt in her presence.

“But, if you ever raise your voice to me like that again I will smack you.” 

Her threat, that held no anger in the slightest, made him laugh and duck his head against hers as his body shook with each breath of laughter. 

His first laugh since the incident. 

From then, they were closer than ever. One was seldom seen without the other at their side. 

The Ladies at court through the two of them were just about the most darling thing they had ever seen. Yet, not everyone was rooting for the threads of young love to flourish. 

Alicent watched her son in the training yard with a frown. Her second son, so dutiful and so smart, was becoming distracted. Her eyes never strayed from him as he neglected his own lessons to play around with his friend, watching with a scowl as the two of them laughed together, as if there was no care in the world.

The sight of the young girl in the training yard was enough to leave her appalled, but her son’s willingness to indulge in such unseemly behavior was worrying. 

“We cannot let this go any further.” Her father spoke from beside her. 

“I can’t very well tell him he cannot be her friend. It would devastate him.”

“Let them be friends, but make it clear that is all it will ever be. Aemond can’t get any ideas about marrying this girl.”

Alicent chewed on her lower lip anxiously. The thought of tearing her son away from such happiness turned her stomach, but the thought of him marrying a girl so unpredictable was just as unfortunate. 

“Would it really be so bad? We could gain leverage with her father.”

“Ixtal is a neutral house. They have never taken a stand in any war, that won’t change now. We cannot risk Aemond allying with a house that could not give us leverage for Aegon’s claim.” Otto hissed angrily. 

Alicent wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes falling back to her son, taking in the sight of his smile while she still could. She doubted it would be a common sight once he was forced away from the Island girl. 

But they all had a duty to perform.

~~

Her arm was looped through his as he guided her past the dragon pit. 

“Where are we going?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at the structure that housed the mighty Targaryen dragons they had just passed. 

“Vhagar doesn’t stay there. She doesn’t fit.” Aemond explained, a slightly smug smirk crossing his features as he subtly boasted about his newly claimed dragon.

Her smile twitched slightly, her nerves suddenly overtaking her. She’d been hesitant when Aemond offered to introduce her to his mount, but the reminder of the great beast’s sheer size had the beginnings of fear creeping through her veins. 

Noticing the subtle shift in her expression, Aemond tightened his grip on her arm. 

“I would never put you in danger.” He assured her. “Vhagar is bonded to me, she can feel what I feel for you and she would never hurt you.”

“If I could hear that directly from Vhagar I might be able to breathe properly.” 

Aemond snickered and led her forward excitedly. 

Soon, they arrived at the crest of the hill, Vhagar’s enormous form coming into view. A shuddering breath escaped her when she came face to face with the historic dragon that fought in wars long before her time. 

She could barely comprehend such a beast of her size existed among them, that the sweet boy beside her commanded her or even willingly approached her. 

“Relax.” Aemond told her softly, moving out of her hold so his hand could take hers, intertwining their fingers. 

The pair of them stepped towards the sleeping giant. She watched, mystified, as Aemond spoke a few words of Valaryian, the dragon's eyes sleepily opening, her large head lifting towards them. 

She felt her body freeze, the blood in her veins running cold as the mighty dragon looked past her rider, her curious gaze landing on her. A low rumble shook the ground, Vhagar’s protest to the stranger before her. 

Aemond soothed his dragon, placing an affectionate hand on her snout as he spoke soft commands. 

She doubted a few measly words would suddenly convince Vhagar that she wasn’t a tasty snack, but she could only watch, her eyes widening as the dragon became disinterested by her presence, laying her head back down on the warm grass she had been slumbering on. 

Aemond looked over his shoulder at her prone form several feet back and smiled, motioning her to come closer. 

She shook her head adamantly, her feet frozen in place. 

He spoke her name, holding his hand out to her. 

She looked to his hand and then to his dragon and back again, contemplating the risk to her life. 

“Do you trust me?” Aemond asked and her tense shoulders sagged. She had no reason to doubt her best friend. With one look in his eye, she knew he would never let any harm come to her. 

She took slow steps forward, her fear not allowing her to move any quicker. 

She reached out and took Aemond’s hand in hers as soon as she was close enough, holding on tightly.

“It’s alright.” He assured her. 

He guided her hand toward Vhagar, watching the girl beside him closely, gaging every expression that crossed her face in a matter of seconds. From fear, to doubt, to disbelief and suddenly to awe. 

A shaky laugh left her lips as her hand softly rested on the rough scales of Vhagar’s side. Pure delight was etched across her face as she pet the mighty beast as if she were nothing more than a house cat. Aemond saw how excited she got when one of the many stray cats that roamed Flea Bottom ventured their way into the Keep. 

The excited smile she wore now as she pet his dragon was the same one he saw when she would cradle those strays. 

The thought made him laugh and he leaned in close to her, letting his head rest against hers. 

Seeing her now, fearless by his mount’s side, only confirmed what he already knew. 

She was meant to be with dragons. Meant to be with him. 

~~

I will hopefully have the next chapter out within the next couple of days! And yes, every chapter is going to be long, I have no control. Hope you liked it xx

[radiance1]

"I need to find my darling husband!" Said Danny, dressed to the nines in a very elaborate royal dress with a lot of jewelry running through the ballroom after having been on the opposite end of a very worrying phone call.

"Seriously, what do you even see in that mortal!?" Screamed an observant and Danny stopped and leveled them with a glare cold enough to freeze over an active volcano and sharp enough to cut through obsidian.

"He makes me laugh."

Unlike those dead suitors went unsaid, but everyone at the ball (read: search for a bride/groom for the royal ghostling) practically heard it anyways.

Meanwhile over in the land of the living

Okay so Jason may have messed up. Now you see, he hasn't seen his platonic husband for tax benefits in a while, and he's been very careful to not let his identity as the Red Hood slip up before . Not even once in their relationship.

(He's not counting the time his in-laws sniffed him out as a Crime Lord, because Danny never believed them.)

Now, it wasn't exactly his fault he slipped up. You try to fight off an entire group after being pulled up on out of nowhere on the phone while trying to hide said noises of fighting.

Who was he calling? Danny of course since he said he was away for business. What business? Never specified and Jason wasn't going to pry.

So now here he was, bound 'helplessly' as Jason Todd along with a few other random civilians. Which, like, rude.

Wasn't he already good enough for this ancient ritual or whatever?

You know, he really should have walked with that "Anti-kidnapping device" he got that one time. Which honestly he feels like he should be surprised that such a thing exists but considering it was from Bruce. Well.

He's not surprised.

Oh, there's the Justice League now. Shame, he wanted to knock out a few guys himself- Oh, now he's being used to summon a ghost from the Infinite Realms of Royal Lineage.

Yea he probably should have walked with that "Anti-kidnapping device."

Wait a goddamn-

Is that-

"My darling husband!" Danny shouted, scooping him off the circle and away from the head cultist and swinging him around. "You had me worried sick!"

Now, he should ask the question anyone would in this situation when finding out your best friend and platonic husband for tax benefits was apparently a ghost of royal lineage.

"Why're you in a dress?"

"Okay, first of all I rock this thing." Danny huffed.

"That you do." Jason agreed rather easily.

"Second of all, blame those guys over there." He jerked his head in the direction of two very green floating eyeball people.

Not the weirdest he's seen, honestly.

The Observants were whispering to each other and leveling them-Jason in particular-a look.

"Now as you can see, I already have a spouse and I don't need another!" Danny hugged Jason closer for emphasis and he took the time to whisper in Danny's ear. "Did you really marry me to play the husband card?"

"Well, yes." Danny agreed. "But also because of taxes, because I love you and you're my best friend."

"So, we're still done for watching that movie right."

"Obviously."

A pained grunt came from below them and they both looked down to see Batman standing over a very unconscious cultist and looking up at them.

Hm.

He forgot they were there.

"So," Jason began, staring Bruce straight in the eyes. Batman's eyes narrowed. "Don't suppose we can push that forward to right now?"

"Yea, sure why not I'm not doing anything important." Danny leveled the Observants a look, and before either they, Batman, or the Justice League could do anything they both disappeared.

[pathologicalreid]

separation anxiety | S.R.

spencer's first case back from paternity leave involves children, so a concerned party reaches out to you for help

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, dad!spencer, vaguely described breastfeeding, word count: 1.28k a/n: this is technically the reid family from cryptic, but you don't have to read cryptic in order to understand this fic.

Your book rested in your lap as you pinched the thin paper of the novel between your index finger and your thumb. You had one foot on the ground, and the other was on the bottom of your daughter’s stroller, effectively rocking the stroller in two-four time so the infant would stay asleep.

Just because the A-Team wasn’t around didn’t mean there weren’t people working in the BAU. A crying baby would certainly disrupt the workflow in the bullpen – even if the baby belonged to a member of the BAU. Although, you had already fed her – mostly covered – at Spencer’s desk, so maybe you were past the point of no return.

You and baby Nellie had just been staring at each other at home – she was doing tummy time – when your phone went off. A mysterious text from Derek Morgan had popped up on your phone screen.

Derek Morgan: Got a sec?

It wasn’t that you and Derek never texted, it’s just that it was usually under the realm of “on my way” messages and, more recently, baby pictures, but you usually communicated indirectly using a massive group chat that was created by none other than Penelope Garcia.

So, when you answered and he asked if you’d be able to meet the team when they arrived at Quantico, you hesitantly said yes. He explained more once they were on the jet, the case that they had been on involved young children, and there was a little girl that had struck a particular chord with your boyfriend – who was on his first case back from paternity leave.

Eleanor was three months old, and you weren’t sure who’d have a harder time being away from one another – her or Spencer. You hadn’t considered how Spencer would feel when confronted with a case involving children now that he was a father. Quite frankly, you had hoped that he would’ve had more time before he needed to face a situation like that.

You waited, still using your foot to rock Nell’s stroller as the cover diffused the fluorescent light, you could hear her moving now, likely having woken up from her nap, but if she wasn’t crying, you saw no reason to stop her from playing with the colorful toys that dangled above her.

Sighing, you peered up from your book to see the elevator opening on the sixth floor, revealing the team behind the steel doors. Morgan clocked you first, winking as he passed through the glass doors to the bullpen.

Spencer hadn’t noticed the two of you yet, so you slowly opened the cover of the stroller and picked your daughter up, holding her gently to your chest. The infant fussed a bit while she was being moved, effectively gaining the attention of her father, whose face lit up at the sight of his family waiting for him at his desk.

Pushing past the rest of the team, who had also noticed the small being in the room by this point, Spencer approached his desk, haphazardly dropping his bag on the metal surface before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Before even bothering to separate your lips, he was taking the baby from your arms.

“Hey,” he murmured, pulling away from you slowly as he secured the baby in his arms, bending his neck to place his lips on the crown of Nell’s head, “I missed you, angel girl.” His voice was gentle as you looked on fondly, she reached out a small hand and gripped the collar of his shirt. “How are you?” He asked, turning his attention back onto you.

You smiled at the two of them, using a cloth to wipe the drool from her chin before Spencer took it from you, deftly draping it over his shoulder in case he needed it shortly. “Good,” you answered, “tired,” you added.

Across the bullpen, Emily waved at Eleanor, grinning broadly as she walked over to her desk with JJ. To her enjoyment, the baby responded by letting out a coo and smiling before turning her attention to her dad, nuzzling her face in his chest, “Did I miss anything?”

Raising your eyebrows, you shrugged, leaning back and sitting on Spencer’s desk, “She pushed herself up on her arms yesterday.” It wasn’t a massive milestone – you were still grateful that Spencer had been present for her first real smile.

“Oh, yeah?” He responded, proudly looking down at his daughter, who had moved on from nuzzling and was now trying to see just how much of her hand she could fit in her mouth. “Did you know that babies usually go through a sleep regression right before they learn a new skill?” He asked, directing the question at Nell, “That must be why your mama looks so tired.”

You waved him off, crossing your arms in front of your stomach, “She’s lucky she’s so cute.”

The familiar click-clack of heels notified you that Penelope Garcia had made it to the party, likely signaled by another member of the team, “The cutest little girl in the world!”

Even though every member of the team had held your daughter at one point or another, you weren’t entirely comfortable with her being handed off like a hot potato. This, combined with Spencer’s aversion to germs, led to an unspoken rule: wait until one of her parents offered to let you hold her.

“Did you want to take her for a bit?” You offered, looking over at Spencer as you did. He needed time with her, it wasn’t your intention to deprive him of that, but you needed to check in with him without the distraction of the baby. Handing her off, you spoke up, “Watch your earrings,” you tapped on your earlobe, “She will grab them.”

As Garcia held the baby, she made her way around the bullpen, allowing Eleanor to make grabby hands at everyone and everything.

Keeping an arm around his waist, you looked up at your boyfriend, “Are you alright?” You asked, keeping your voice low as there was no sense in airing your concerns to the now bustling office.

Spencer’s smile faltered ever so slightly, “They were just kids. There have been kids before, but now…”

“Now you’re a dad,” you finished for him. “It’s not just something that you could see happening to someone else; it’s something you could see happening to yourself.” Pinching his side slightly, you smirked at him knowingly, “You know, your levels of empathy and sensitivity increase when you become a parent. Your brain adjusts to make yourself a better parent.”

Rolling his eyes slightly, Spencer raised his eyebrows at you, “You know, I vaguely remember telling you something very similar last week when you were crying at an ASPCA commercial.”

You reached up to ruffle his hair, “Nice try at sarcasm, babe, but you and I both know you never vaguely remember anything.”

“How did you know to come here? That I’d need to see her?” Spencer asked, watching as Penelope continued to parade around the BAU, now taking her up the stairs and through the roundtable room. “Was it a mother’s intuition?” He suggested, taking up a lighter tone.

Turning around, your eyes followed Garcia as she walked with Eleanor, “I was contacted by a concerned party.”

Spencer followed your gaze, “I’ll thank Garcia when she gives our baby back.”

You hummed, “Actually, it was Derek, he-“ Your voice cut off abruptly, “Oh, Penny, I told you she’d grab them!” You called from Spencer’s desk, but Garcia was already on her way to return Eleanor, holding one hand to her ear as she handed the baby back to Spencer.

[rockingbytheseaside]

Hey I really love your writings and drawings, could I request a capitano one shot, where he meets the embodiment of death on a battlefield and after some time they fall in love, please. I hope you have a great day/night.

(anon, you are literally speaking my language rn, because I had that same idea. Hope I did it justice ❣ slight enemies to lovers, fluff, reader hinted to have abyss powers) 

✦ A dance between the unyielding & the unconquerable

�� The current Pyro Archon, Mavuika, harbored a profound distaste for dealing with You and Il Capitano.

Not because of the obvious concerns such as the 1st Harbinger jeopardizing the safety of the gnosis, or you being an entity of abyssal nature. But because currently, the two of you stood in the grand arena exchanging too many… pleasantries. 

“To see you grace this battle arena with your might is truly an honor no man can ever hope to achieve. I'm looking forward to witnessing your grandeur once more.” 

The Captain held your hand in his armored one, his helmeted head leaned for a reverence kiss, knowing well these same hands could end him if you so desired. You mirrored his polite gentleness and smiled with a soft bow - “Nonsense, the honor is all mine to see you in action.” 

Mavuika was already removing her red optics and sighing dejectedly. They will never get this over with. She saw a fair share of competitive banter between opponents in her time: tense bickering, respectful encouragement, or excited chatter. But witnessing the stoic, stern Harbinger exchanging smitten words with his immortal enemy? You two looked more like a couple ready to slow dance. 

Perhaps your and Capitano's everlasting rivalry always resembled a dance. 

✧ Centuries ago, when the enigmatic faceless Fatuus first acquired the title of “The Captain”, he was employed by The Jester for one simple task – Find you and eliminate you. You resembled a simple mortal, yet one gaze at your eyes, and the vision of abyssal hell could be reflected. The personification of oblivion, strolling the surface of Teyvat innocently, leaving no trace behind yet appearing soundlessly. 

Your first exchange with him proved uneventful, as well. “A Fatui… Harbinger? What's that?” - was all you said back then. Nonetheless, Capitano knew he shouldn't underestimate your anomalous powers, he is a powerful man himself, and his blade knows no deception. 

He almost died that day. 

Years passed, and the scars or toils of your battles with him remained. With constant expedition to the abyss, The Harbinger ventured between realms seeking you out for revenge. Each time you crossed paths, the outcome remained the same - a polite exchange, followed by earth-shattering battles where both of your weapons clash and bodies are exerted. However, was the Harbinger seeking you out of his obligation for the Fatui, or because you were the only one who witnessed his full might? Perhaps, because you were the one to draw scars along his skin, a fair result of the duels he ignited. Or because only you knew of the thrill the two of you provided when battling? 

When bodies are taught with swift agility, blood surges hot with each evade. He feels your movement, swift and soundless, yet each murderous blow carries elegance as you fight him. This wasn't a gentle dance where he'll hold your delicate hand, and guide you on the ballroom floor by the waist. No, even if he secretly wished to. Alas, this was a dance where you would crush him to his knees, feel his sword pinning back against your weapon, holding his knuckles to block his direct attack. 

And he loved every second of it. The way you moved effortlessly, mirrored his excitement and triumphantly knocked him to the floor, or used your abilities to loom over him. The Captain makes sure that all his attacks are up close and personal against yours. 

✧ At times, when fate mockingly sends him back following your shadow, he’d encounter you in less hostile places. You sat at some ledge of a cliff, not far away from the People of the Springs tribe, your head raised to look at the fake stars of Teyvat. The Harbinger knew there were civilians nearby, initiating the usual duels would be unwise. Instead, he would sit next to you and raise his helmeted face at the taunting stars that brought you together. It was a rare moment of solitude, to see your figure next to him, so human-like and simple. Even he feels so human in your presence. 

And on such quiet, gentle nights – you two would just talk. Legs inching closer to sit close by. A hand gently placed on top of another. Silhouettes of two faces leaning tenderly into one, unseen by the dark sky as they exchange silent kisses. 

It was a foolish fate, for the immovable to fall in love with the indestructible. Thus, this was your life with the 1st Fatui Harbinger.  

✧ Going back to the present with Mavuika; the Pyro Archon received reports that not only did the Fatui send their strongest Harbinger, but the Abyss also sent their most formidable entity. For Natlan, this would be grave news, but as she delves deeper into understanding the two of you, the pieces of the puzzle start to fit together. How come the Captain is always conveniently there when you are sighted? How come when you two are supposedly meant to clash, no actual devastations happen? 

Instead, Il Capitano stays close to you. His armored hand is often clasped around yours to kiss the skin that can shower the world with annihilation. He'd drape his coat over your figure protectively, shielding you from stranger's fearful stares. You never liked unwanted attention, only he had the right to bask you in his. And most importantly, he'd kneel beside you so you may cup his helmeted face and bestow upon him tender kisses on his pitch-black visage.

Perhaps Mavuika has nothing to worry about. If the immovable cancels out the indestructible, then you two are not here to wreck chaos onto Natlan. Maybe you two are using it as a honeymoon destination. 

-

[dotster001]

Meeting Their Future Kids With You

Summary: Vil/Idia/Crewel/Crowley/Malleus/Rook x gn! Reader. A child suddenly appears. And it seems to have a connection to you? Requested by @stygianoir

A/N: It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age.

CW: spreading my asexual Malleus agenda, especially now that I've been spoiled for the fact that the dragon lays an egg and all it needs is love to hatch. ASEXUAL MALLEUS CAN NOW BE CANON Y'ALL!!!! Anyways...his kid is the only one with physical descriptors, so do with that what you will 😅

3k followers masterlist

Something was wrong. There was a presence at Ramshackle that shouldn't be there. Could it be? Could someone be trying to steal you from him? No! He had only just started courting you! It wasn't fair. 

He poofed into your sitting room and froze. 

You were snuggling what looked like…a small version of him?

You looked up and your jaw dropped.

"Wait, I thought this was you!" You looked back down at the kid who giggled and made grabby hands at Malleus.

"Daddy!"

Ah! Yes, he understood now. Draconia genes were strong. This child clearly was barely old enough to even hold a human form, it was not out of the realm of possibility that it had accidentally used a time travel spell. Perhaps that was even the child's unique magic.

He walked over to the child in your arms, scooped it up, and gave it a soft kiss between the two tiny horns emerging from their head.

"It's wonderful to see you, but it's time to go home, little one."

The child nodded sagely and vanished in a puff of green smoke. You looked at him in complete confusion, but he simply laughed, repeating his kiss, but this time to your forehead.

He knew you were his soulmate.

He knew with a single glance. The familiarity the twin girls before him held in their gazes, the way they carried themselves, the hats on their heads. Everything screamed his influence.

And though that didn't make any sense, Rook knew his eye and his instincts were never wrong.

But there was something about the girls that was distinctly…..

"Rook! Hi- aw shit, please tell me you didn't kidnap some kids!"

So distinctly you.

The two girls shared what, to anyone but Rook, would seem like an unsettling smile as you approached the silent scene.

"Non non, they are just passing through, oui, petites fleur's?"

"Oui," they said simultaneously, grinning at you, their eyes taking in your every facial twitch.

"Uh, okay? Relatives of yours?"

"One could say that."

All three of them laughed, leaving you confused and a little frightened.

It was a normal day like any other. Searching for Epel who had once again fled his lessons.

And he had found him in the worst possible place. A mud pile with an already very muddy teenage girl.

Epel splashed the girl with a childish giggle, and she laughed hysterically.

"Papa was right, you were crazy!" She giggled making a mud ball and throwing it at him.

He dodged and it hit Vil.

"Ah shit," she whispered under her breath. But after a second of reflection, she grinned. "Wait, why am I scared? You're not the boss of me."

Vil glared, and she suddenly looked apologetic again.

Both Epel and the girl stared at the ground, completely avoiding eye contact.

"What school are you from?" Vil snapped at the girl.

She snickered but said nothing.

"Who do I report you to?"

She laughed louder. "Nah, I don't have to tell you shit."

"Language," he snapped, and tears filled her eyes.

"It was all uncle Epel's fault. I told him I didn't want to play in the mud, but he made me do it!"

"You absolute rat!" Epel shouted, picking up some mud and preparing to throw it.

Vil cast a quick spell, freezing both of you in place. He stormed over and snatched each of your wrists, preparing to storm off with the two trouble makers in tow, when he saw the shimmering gold bracelet on your wrist. Engraved on it was L/N-Schoenheit.

He stared for a moment, then groaned.

"Epel, remind me to never let you around my future child."

"He's my godfather," the girl grinned impishly, and Vil felt a part of himself die.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for my dad. You look like you could be related to him."

Idia knew he shouldn't have left his room today. All he wanted was a snack, and to maybe see you if you happened to not be in a class right now, and now this extroverted teenager was asking about his dad.

What the absolute fuck?

He quickly pulled out his ipad, typing something about how anyone related to him wasn't worth finding, when the twerp yanked the iPad out of his hands.

"Nevermind, I figured it out," the kid snorted. "Hi dad!"

Idia started stuttering. Not only was this twerp an extroverted teen who stole his iPad, he was also insane.

"Nah, nah, not today, not today…" Idia started muttering under his breath.

The kid rolled his eyes.  

"Forgot about this part. Guess they really did change you for the better," he started typing something on his watch, and a hologram popped up, showing the kid, you, and Idia…? Your and Idia's faces were a bit more lined than they were right now but….it was definitely you.

He stared at the hologram, his hair turning a bright red. 

"Oh! Hey Idia!" Your voice called from behind him.

He turned and waved to you shyly, then turned back to the teen. But he was gone.

And the damn boy stole his iPad.

If his hair wasn't already dyed, those two freshmen would have given him gray hair by now.

Once again, they'd made a potion explode in his classroom. And once again, the fallout would be a pain to clean up.

Where you had once sat was a small child. A small child who was looking at him expectantly.

"Well?" She asked.

At first he had assumed this small child was your child form. But no. She looked nothing like you. Though, she did have a similar glint in her eye.

"Who are you?" He asked softly, not wishing to scare the child with the rage that was building up inside him. He'd told you again and again that your friends were trouble, and now look where it got you.

Wait. Where exactly were you?

Before the girl could speak, a red smoke filled the room, and a him with a few more wrinkles appeared, dragging you by the wrist. Your face was covered in a vicious pout.

"I already told them," future Crewel said, eying the freshmen with a vicious glare. "No need to repeat it."

He opened his arms in front of the little girl, a warm smile taking over his features, as the girl climbed into his arms, snuggling into him. He pointed at you and the freshman one more time, said, "Behave." And vanished into red smoke.

Present day Crewel pinched the bridge of his nose, and pointed at you.

"He already said it," you snapped,punching Ace in the shoulder for good measure.

"Morning dad."

"Morning," Crowley muttered tiredly as he sipped his coffee.

Then he choked on it. There should be no one in his office right now. And there should be no one calling him dad.

He looked over and saw a kid who was somewhere between the age of 10 and 13 sorting through his stack of paperwork.

"Pardon me, but do you mind explaining what you're doing?"

The kid looked up and raised a brow in confusion.

"Um, morning paperwork?" He laughed nervously. "Wait did you forget that….uh, nevermind, I'll just go then."

The kid hastily made the papers into a pile, grabbed a backpack, and started to hustle out of the office. Only to be stopped when he bumped into you as you were storming into the office.

"Crowley! You promised you'd fix my goddamn roof!"

"Dad said I wasn't grounded anymore!"

Both of you shouted over the top of each other, and then stared in confusion.

The kid sprinted out of the office, knocking you over in the process.

Dire, meanwhile, released a delighted giggle, his face feeling warm as he grinned at you with a lovesick grin. Only to be annoyed as you brought up your roof again.

"If you excuse me, I have other things to attend to. I assure you that child will only cause trouble."

He ran out of his own office, no intention of actually finding his future son, only intending to hide from you.

Too bad you could always see through him, and were right on his tail.

[hisfavegiri]

Little dragon - Aegon Targaryen x Niece Valeryon(Targaryen)!Reader

Warning : typical inscet Targaryen, Aegon being soft(?), angst, mention of blood, labor.

Two years after the marriage between Rhaenyra and Leanor and also after repeated failures in trying to get pregnant, Rhaenyra today gave birth to her first daughter. You were born healthy, have Targaryen beauty with a silver hair on your head.

You were fast asleep in your mother's arms who was smiling at you, then the door of her chambers opened to reveal Leanor entering in a hurry “I heard it, a girl. oh this is great news”

Leanor comes closer and strokes your cheek gently, you open your eyes and look at him. "She has your eyes, she is very beautiful" Leanor smiles at Rhaenyra and he nodded his head.

Soon enough news of your birth reached King and Queen ears. The two of them immediately went to your mother's chambers to see how you two were doing.

“oh my daughter, I am proud of you. I hope the birth goes smoothly." Viserys approached his daughter and gave her a warm hug which Rhaenyra immediately returned.

"She was born without any fuss father" Rhaenyra smiled and looked at Alicent who was holding her daughter.

"She’s so beautiful, what a lovely babe you have bought to this world my love."

Rhaenyra laughed softly at her father's demands, she held her father's hand tightly. “she has her father eyes” Alicent spoke quietly while looking at you carefully.

“indeed your grace, she's the perfect mix of me and Rhaenyra” The king smiled hearing Leanor say that

"Have you given her a name?" Rhaenyra looked at her stepmother and nodded, she had thought of a suitable name for you long before you were born.

"Her name is, y/n" Viserys smiled and gently stroked his daughter's arm. "That's a beautiful name for a beautiful princess"

“y/n, I'm sure you will grow up to be a very beautiful princess in the future.”

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and months turned into years. You're now already ten and fifteen name days old, what Alicent said is true. You grew up to be a beautiful princess and was highly respected at court, You are a very innocent , shy and cheerful girl.

Two years after your birth, your mother gave birth to your younger brother, Jacaerys. A few years later your mother again gave birth to a son, Lucerys and now, a few days before your name day celebration. Your mother gave birth to a son again who was named Joffrey.

You are very happy knowing you have many siblings, but the physical differences between you and your other siblings make you not very uncomfortable with all the whispers that speak ill of your mother and siblings.

"Father, I want you to crown Aegon as the next heir to the throne."

Everyone at the council table fell silent and looked at Rhaenyra in surprise, including Otto and Alicent. Viserys choked on his wine, he looked at his daughter in disbelief. Rhaenyra took a deep breath before she looked at her father's face.

"I realize that the realm will not agree if a queen sits on the iron throne"

She knew very well that if one day she ascended the throne, many would oppose her and there would be war. because the situation had changed when Aegon was born, the son the king had longed for.

"However, before that I want to give you one condition."

Otto and Alicent looked at Rhaenyra carefully, feeling happy and anxious at the same time. Viserys was just silent and listened to every word his daughter said.

"I attended to marry my daughter, my heir. y/n to Aegon, let them rule the kingdom together”

While on the other side in the keep, you are reading your book in the garden, sometimes you just want to be alone and away from the hustle and bustle of the court. While you are enjoying the book you are reading, your attention is distracted by someone standing in front of you.

"Princess, I'm sorry to interrupt your time. but the King and Queen is waiting for your presence in council chamber." you turned your gaze and looked at Ser Criston Cole. you smiled and nodded slowly “thank you Ser Criston”

You stood up and straightened your dress a little, you walked confidently towards the council chamber. You smile and greet everyone you meet in the hallway.

When you walk in, you can see the presence of your mother, the Kinb, Queen and also the king's hand. You bowed your body slightly before finally walking closer to your mother.

"I’m sorry for the disturbance, princess. but there is something important we have to discuss with you, please have a seat” you looked at Alicent and nodded slowly.

“Oh not at all your Grace, you don't disturb my time at all.”

“Your mother just spoke about something” You listened carefully and nodded slowly, you could see your mother was very nervous but she still smiled in front of you.

Your grandsire sigh before he speak “She wants Aegon to be the next heir to the throne” this is when you looked at your mother in surprise, you didn't understand what she was thinking. Alicent, who realized how surprised you were, cleared her throat softly and continued her husband's words. "We were just as surprised as you, princess."

“you’re the princess of the realm and you have duties to full field. you have to marry and bring an heir of yourself, i attend to marry you with Aegon” As the king continues speaking you’re silent for a moment, the decision you must accept for the peace of the realm or maybe the peace for this family.

“my love? what do you think about this?” Your mother's voice brought you out of your thoughts, you looked at everyone carefully before you finally gave your answer

“I can't possibly refuse this grandsire, if this is the best decision then I accept it” you smiled.

Hearing this made Viserys smile, he then looked at his wife and daughter. “then it’s settled then, you will be married to Aegon in several months”

After the conversation in the council chambers, you and your mother are now in her chambers. You looked at your mother in astonishment, “What are you thinking? What does all this mean? I have no problem marrying Aegon. but why do you ask to change the order of the throne?”

you can see your mother sigh and massage her temples slowly, she looks at you and you can see the worry and tiredness on her face . "I just want to prevent war, my dear, if later when I ascend the throne, the entire realm will definitely not accept it well. no queen has ever sit the iron throne before”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, you heard your mother's bedroom door being forced open and revealed your father, Leanor, who looked in a hurry. “What the fuck did I just hear? is it true that you asked Aegon to be heir to the throne?”

You looked at your father in shock, it seemed like your father didn't realize you were there. your mother looked at your father and then looked at you, “dove, I will talk to your father. You can go back to your quarters."

Your father, who just realized your presence, flinched, he smiled awkwardly. "My love, sorry I didn't see you. I'll see you after this." You just nodded and walked out of your mother's chambers , you decided to go back to the garden.

You just nodded and walked out of your mother's room, you decided to go back to the garden. Now in the same place you go back to reading your book, to divert the thoughts that are running around in your head.

“well hello beautiful, what are you doing here?”

You looked away from the book and saw Aegon standing in front of you with his signature smile, you smiled and then closed your book.

“Uncle, I was just reading my book” you smiled then shifted a little so he could sit next to you.

“Sorry dove, I can't bring you flowers today” you could hear the disappointment in his voice and you laughed softly.

"It's okay, just having you here makes me happy"

Aegon lay his head on your lap, you smiled and continued your reading. "Do you know? "This book, it really disturbs my view right now" Aegon took the book in your hand and put it aside, you laughed softly and looked at his face.

"Hey, I'm telling the truth, I'm looking at the most beautiful woman's but the book is blocking my view."

You smiled and gently ruffled his hair, Aegon just laughed softly when he saw you were embarrassed. he likes to see you blush and also laugh out loud when you're around him.

"I was very happy when I found out I would marry you"

You looked at him in shock, you didn't expect that he already knew about it. "I heard the conversation with my grandfather when I was called to his room, are you happy with this dove?"

You shook your head slowly, “of course i’m happy Aegon.” You gently combed his hair and said "I can't think of a more suitable husband for me."

The great sept was decorated with a symphony of colors and opulence greeted the eyes of all who entered. Flowers of every hue adorned the edges, their fragrance mingling with the air.

As you made your way down the aisle, the guests turned their heads, their eyes widening in awe. The radiant bride, accompanied by your father, glided with grace and elegance. you look breathtaking, with white gown that hug your curve perfectly, and your neat braided hair.

At the end of the aisle stood Aegon, the new heir to the throne and your betrothed. His presence was strong and radiating, his eye locked on you with unwavering adoration. You can see his smiles reflected a shared joy, celebrating the union that was about to take place.

On your side of the aisle, your mother, Rhaenyra stood as your pillar of support. Clutching the bouquet of white roses, her eyes glistened with tears of happiness. you two shared a glance, their bond unbreakable, a silent reassurance of love.

The septon, adorned in his ceremonial robes, stood before the altar, ready to officiate the union. The guests held their breath, their eyes fixed on the couple before them, as the sacred vows of love and loyalty would be exchanged.

As you took your place beside Aegon at the altar, "You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." the septon's voice voice resonated through the sept, his words carrying the weight of tradition and sacredness.

Aegon then removes your 'Maidens cloak' bearing the sigil of your birth house, Velaryon and replaced it by cloak' of Targaryen house signifying that Aegon taking over the protection of you.

"We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” The septon's powerful proclamation reverberated through the grand sept, reaching the ears of all the guest. As the septon continued with his sermon.

The septon's voice carried the weight of tradition and solemnity as he guided you and Aegon through the final steps of their union. With gentle yet purposeful movements, he began to tie their hands together with a ribbon, symbolizing the binding of their souls as one for eternity.

"In the sight of the Seven," the septon declared, his words resonating through the hallowed space of the grand sept, "I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity." The ribbon encircled their joined hands.

Turning towards each other, your eyes locked once again, you and Aegon spoke in unison, your voices blending harmoniously as they uttered the sacred words. The presence of the gods seemed to permeate the air, lending an air of sanctity to the moment.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger..." their voices carried the weight of conviction and devotion.

"I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days," Aegon vowed, his voice filled with unwavering commitment.

"I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days," you echoed. Their voices intertwined, their souls merging in that sacred space.

Aegon’s eye shimmering with unwavering love, gently cradled your face in his hands. His touch was tender, filled with a reverence befitting the solemnity of the moment.

With a soft, lingering touch, Aegon's lips met yours, your first kiss as husband and wife. And their first kiss ever. It was a gentle meeting of souls. In that intimate embrace, time seemed to stand still, the world fading away, leaving only the warmth of their connection.

The guests watched in awe and reverence as the couple sealed their vows with this symbolic gesture. The room was filled with a palpable energy, a collective recognition of the sacredness of the union unfolding before them.

As their lips parted, Aegon whispered, "With this kiss, I pledge my love to you, y/n Targaryen." His words echoed through the hall.

your eyes sparkled with joy as you met Aegon gaze. your voice whispered, "And with this kiss, I pledge my love to you, Aegon Targaryen.”

The septon, catching the low exchange, cleared his throat and raised his voice even louder, ensuring that all present heard his proclamation. "Let it be known that Aegon Targaryen of House Targaryen and y/n Velaryon of House Velaryon are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.” The room erupted into thunderous applause and cheers, the joyous sound echoing throughout the grand hall of the Great Sept.

You couldn't believe that it had been almost a year since you and Aegon had been married, and in a matter of days the two of you would be holding your first child.

love what are you doing? you should been resting in our chambers” You turned your head and saw your husband walking over with Aemond beside him. You smiled and tried to stand up from your chair but Aegon quickly held you back.

“just please stay seated, i know this pregnancy had make you suffer” you smile and kiss his lips that makes Aemond groan. “she’s here at the request of both of us, Aegon” Alicent's voice made the three of you turn around, you saw the queen walking along with your mom, Rhaenyra. Their relationship only got better after the day you and Aegon got married, and honestly that made you happy.

They want to discuss several important matters with the kingdom. Since your grandsire health became increasingly worse, Aegon began to learn to manage the kingdom, of course accompanied by the queen and your mother.

“but mother, will y/n be okay? we don't know when the babe will be born” you could hear the worry and worry in his voice, you smiled and took his hand giving his hand reassuring squeeze. "I'll be fine, especially if the babe is born today. everyone is ready”

The meeting went smoothly, Aemond informed that the security of Kings Landing had improved with the addition of Gold Cloak troops in the city. Rhaenyra also said that the war taking place in the narrow sea was under control, you listen to everything that is said. Aegon of course also sometimes gives advice.

You felt pain in your stomach which made you shift uncomfortably in your chair, no one noticed it apart from your husband. Aegon looked at you worriedly and stroked your hand from under the table, “I'm fine, just a little tired” you said quietly with a smile.

Aegon nodded and focused himself again on the meetings, but he knew that something was wrong with you. you tried your best to hold back the pain which was getting worse, you whimpered softly making everyone look at you worriedly. "My love? What’s wrong?" you can hear your mother's voice. you couldn't answer and could only whimper softly, you could feel something running down your leg and you knew very well that something was wrong now.

“Is it the babe? shit, Aemond, call the Maester and the midwives to my chambers now!" Aegon shouted at Aemond and immediately carried you towards your chambers. you groaned and hugged your husband's neck tightly, ‘what happened?’ You are very scared now, You are afraid that something will happen to the babe, many women in your family have died or their babies have not survived the birthing process.

Aegon laid you down on the bed and looked towards the door, “where are the fucking midwives! hurry fucking up!” he screamed like crazy, he didn't want anything to happen to his babe, something to happen to you.

Your mother and also Alicent tried to help you to stay calm, they wiped the sweat that appeared on your forehead, give words of encouragement and also hold your hand. Your breathing are becoming hard and your vision starts to blur because of the pain and tears that accumulate on your eyelids.

“it hurts mothers, this hurts so much” you cried softly as you squeezed both of their hands, Aegon looked back at you and immediately knelt beside your bed. “Dove, look at me.” You looked at him, his gaze radiating worry and fear.

“I'm here, I'll be by your side. please hang in there” he whispered and kissed your forehead.

Not long after you are now surrounded by many midwives and also the Maester. Scream after scream could be heard clearly throughout the Red Keep making everyone who heard it shudder in horror, they knew that their princess was fighting between life and death to give birth to her first child with the prince.

"If you feel any contractions, I want you to start to push, princess.”

The voice of the midwife was faint, you gripped Aegon’s forearm until your nails turned white. Aegon kept his word to be by your side, he ignored your mother and Alicent's words. said that the birthing room was not he right to attend. Another scream was heard indicating that another contraction hit your body, with all the strength, you began to push.

"I feel the head! a few more pushes and he'll be here."

you pushed with all your might and after a few moments you threw your head back on the pillow and took a deep breath, you could heard a very loud cry which made your heart feel relieved. You looked at the midwife who was smiling broadly while holding a red bundle in her hands.

"congratulations princess, you have a son. a healthy one, he’s kicking like a goat"

you smiled weakly and with the remaining strength you had you reached out your hand to take your son, you looked at your son face with a small smile adorning your tired and sweaty face. you could feel Aegon kiss your forehead, “you did it, you gave birth to our child.”

You smiled at your husband and slowly gave your son into his arms. You smiled seeing him cradling your son. after a moment you closed your eyes as you felt the pain wash over your body once again, a small groan escaped your lips which made Aegon look at you worriedly.

"What is this? Is this the afterbirth?” you, with panicked eyes looked at the midwife. The midwife then looked under the blanket, in a worried tone she directed the other midwife to get ready.

"my apologize princess, but it looks like you are pregnant with twins. for that I hope if possible you should come to push as you felt another contraction”

you looked Aegon in shocked and prepared again to give birth to your second babe. With the remaining strength you had, you started to push ad you feel another painful contraction. You twitched in pain and that makes Aegon worried. “it’s hurt! i can’t do this please make it stop”

You cried which made Aegon walk towards the Maester “what happened? why is she in pain?!” Maester came closer and felt your stomach to check what was wrong with the babe, you saw his face change and became afraid.

“I'm sorry prince, but I think this baby is breech” breech? oh my gosh you're even more scared now, your cries are mixed with very scary screams.

“For this, we can do a procedure where we rotate the babe so that it is in the correct position or we can cut the mother's womb so that we can take the babe out”

Aegon looked at the Maester in horror, angrily Aegon pointed the dagger at his neck. "Don't ever think I will allow you to cut open my wife!"

you cried and called his name, Aegon looked at the Maester sharply and immediately walked closer to you. "my love it’s okey, i’m here you’re safe. I won't let anyone cut open your womb, there’s no fucking way," he suppressed all his words.

Your fear grew bigger when the maester approached and started to feel your stomach, "Sorry princess, but this might hurt a little" you just nodded and squeezed Aegon's hand when the Maester did his job, the pain was all you felt. You screamed in pain and told him to stop, after a while the Maester looked back at the midwives and nodded.

“alright princess, if you feel one more contraction I want you to push, okay?” You nodded weakly, you were very tired now. Your nightgown is wet because of your sweat, there is also a lot of blood on it. You took a deep breath as you felt the pain and contractions slowly creep through your body, with the remaining strength you had you tried to give birth your child.

You shook your head and leaned back against the pillow, crying and looking at your husband. he looked very messy, his hair was messy and his eyes were bloodshot. Aegon's heart ached, it hurt when he saw his soulmate looked like this.

“my love, you have to do this. I know it hurts a lot, but I won't be able to live without you. I'm begging for my sake, for the sake of our child” Aegon kissed your forehead several times while continuing to say those words, you realized that your husband and children needed you.

You took a deep breath before you finally pushed with the remaining strength you had. After a few moments the sound of the baby crying was heard, which was not too loud but clear. you turned your head to look for your babe and you can felt your heart hurt, you was afraid something had happened to your little babe.

“Aegon? what happened? please tell me that the babe is okey? right?” You turned to Aegon and looked at him sadly, Aegon was also feeling very worried. he didn't know what happened because after your baby came out, the midwives immediately took him away.

"Congratulations my prince, you have a daughter” the maester's voice sounded, making your heart feel relieved, you took a deep breath and lay back down.

Aegon smiled and kissed you several times while whispering words of thanks. You smiled and stroked his cheek gently, "This is my duty, husband. If you don’t mind I want to sleep now” he chuckled softly and kissed your forehead once more before walking out with his daughter in his arms to let you get some rest.

tag list - @danytar @looneytun3s @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @julessworldd @eratosmusings (italic means that i can’t tag you)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Omg I love your benjicot Blackwood fics can you do a x betrothed reader soft fluff please

There wasn’t many things in life that had brought you happiness, not since you became of an age where it was deemed necessary by your father to start looking for suitable suitors, for you were quick to catch on that life wasn’t fair especially towards the good and honest people of the realm.

They often died too soon, leaving for the rest of the realm to be poisoned and left in ruin by the selfish agendas of the richer and more powerful great houses.

So when you were made aware of your fathers plans, not bothering to ask for your permission in the matter, your initial response was to scream at the old fool of the unfairness of it all but instead you chose to ran for the Weirwoods as though that was going to change anything.

That day whilst terrible as it was, was also the day that you met Benjicot Blackwood or Benji as you liked to call him nowadays.

‘What’s wrong.’ He had asked, kneeling in front of you with a worried look.

‘I’m to be engaged.’ You told the boy with the short dark hair and stormy kind eyes.

‘Do you know to whom?’ He said as he tried his best to figure out what he could do to help, he wasn’t use to this whole comfort thing, but he was more then willing to try and to get use to comforting others for similar circumstances in the future.

You shrug, keeping your eyes downcast so that he wouldn’t see your tear stained face. ‘It is undecided for now but I know in my bones that it’ll be to a gluttonous lord of some unknown house with shady origins.’

‘Why not get engaged to me then?’ Benjicot then said out of the blue.

‘What?’ You looked up at him, unsure you had heard him right the first time.

‘Get engaged to me and you’ll never have to worry about being some shifty lords bed warmer.’ Ben said in a nonchalant mannor, which was soon betrayed by the cherry red blossoming upon his cheeks. ‘We don’t have to be in love it’s just-‘ he was abruptly cut off when you flung yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly as you whispered a million thanks into his shoulder, all the while Benjicot was stiff and awkward as a board before he finally relaxed and rubbed your back.

‘It’s fine, no need to thank me.’ He utters as later that same afternoon the news of your betrothal to Lord Benjicot Blackwood had been finalised, bring about the end before it had even began, and needless to say for the first time you had felt a twinge of happiness for your future.

Now as you stood beneath the very same Weirwood tree you did that fateful day, you sat beneath it with a smile upon your face and peace within your heart. You didn’t think you’d fall in love with Benjicot during your betrothal but you did and you did hard, the man was nothing short of perfect in every way shape and form, you didn’t expect yourself to fall in love with his dark hair, his stormy but kind eyes nor his chapped but kissable lips that withheld the most heavenly laughter you’ve ever heard.

He has made your heart full of happiness and joy that you didn’t know existed in Westeros, he treated you with such kindness, respect and loyalty that you couldn’t help but wonder if you were one of the lucky few to have such a devoted man such as Benjicot. You never wanted to know a reality where you weren’t betrothed to him for every man would fail in comparison, regardless of whether they came from a greater house, for all you ever wanted was a man who was undyingly faithful and wouldn’t dare let his eyes wander and you found that man in Benjicot Blackwood; and ever since then you have been falling for him every single second of every single day.

You had found your soulmate that day without even knowing it as you chuckled to yourself just as a body sat closely beside you, but instead of moving away from it you leaned into it, already familiar with the bodily warmth of your dearly beloved Benji as he pressed a sweet to to the top of your head.

‘You’re smiling today my beloved, is there reason to that or is it just me.’ He joked as you playfully scoffed.

‘I’m merely reminiscing the time we first met, right here beneath the Weirwood tree.’ You told him as you craned your head to look up at the leaves that hung above you both.

‘Still glad you’re not married off to some gluttonous lord from an unknown house with shady origins?’ Benjicot asked as he too looked up at the ruby leaves of the Weirwood, not wanting to admit that after all this time you still managed to make him nervous but in the best ways possible. Your smile widened at your own words being thrown back at you as you looked over at Benjicot and admired his side profile with adoring eyes.

‘I am because my betrothed is the sweetest man the realm has ever seen.’ You told him as you kissed his cheek softly before resting your head on his shoulder. ‘You saved me that day Benji and I am forever grateful.’

‘What did I tell you way back then? It’s nothing that you should thank me for.’ Benjicot said as he looked at you with a soft expression. ‘I’m just glad that I could offer you an alternative solution.’

You looked at him as found yourself smiling as he rested his forehead against your own, closing his eyes as he relaxed again you. ‘You also once told me that we didn’t have to fall in love during our betrothal too.’ You replied as you heard him chuckle lowly, brushing his nose over yours. ‘We did a pretty shit job of that didn’t we?’ Benjicot asked as you giggled and the young lord swore he could hear the heavens sing, for he had fallen first but saw later on that you had fallen just as hard for him in return, which he thought was solely because he had gotten you out of a predicament you didn’t want to be in.

You would later prove to him that that wasn’t the case at all and that you feelings for him were genuine and true as your heart that beats solely for him.

‘One could assume so, yes.’ You replied, kissing him on the forehead before letting your heads rest against one another once more. ‘But I don’t regret a single thing, word or moment that we have shared since for I love you far too much to depart from your side.’ You added as you moved yourself as close to him as you could, wanting nothing more then to be in his arms and listen to the sounds of his strong heart against your ear.

Benjicot didn’t put up a fight as he was quick to bring you into his strong embrace, holding you against his chest as he back remained supported by the trunk of the Weirwood tree, your head pressed to his heart as it sang its song just for you. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you cry under this very Weirwood.’ Benjicot admitted. ‘I looked at you and thought how beautiful you looked even when you were crying, which hurt my heart to witness. I want you happy and in that moment I wanted to be the reason you were happy and since then I have only fallen further each and every day, aching to one day call you what I’ve always wanted to call you.’

‘And what’s that.’ You murmured against his chest, his warmth providing you too much comfort that you were on the periapsis of falling asleep.

‘Lady Blackwood.’ Benjicot said as he pressed a kiss to your head, finding the same level of comfort you had as he too was fighting his hardest to keep his eyes open to gaze upon you longer, but alas his eyes were already closed and he smile widened as he thanked the gods for weaving your strand of fate with his own that fateful day under the Weirwood tree.

[mmogurl]

Dragonseed Chapter 1 : First Night

18+ | 6.4k | Daemon Targaryen X Female Dragonseed Reader | dangerous, sex starved, raunchy Daemon | virgin reader, first time sex, first night / prima noctae, big breast reader, daemon is a boob man in this, non con, non consensual, P in V, much groping, lots of typical Daemon cussing, starts out rough but reader enjoys it in the end, I just woke up with this in my head and needed to get it out.

Daemon has not been satisfied with his wife Rhaenyra lately. Frustrated and sexually deprived, he goes searching in the village at the base of the Dragonmont for a woman that might catch his eye. That's when he comes upon you, a beautiful, young dragonseed, ripe for the taking, whether you like it or not. I came up with the idea for this after reading page 914 in Fire and Blood. In the show, they recruit Valyrian blooded bastards to ride the unclaimed dragons from King’s Landing, but in the book there is actually a fishing village at the base of the island where Dragonstone is located. The men of House Targaryen were known to seek pleasure among the commonfolk there quite often, claiming their ‘first night’ rights and sowing ‘dragonseeds.’

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 On AO3

Rhaenyra has been an insufferable cunt as of late. First she had wallowed in the death of her son, Lucerys, which he understood to an extent. They were at war though and Daemon could not excuse her absence at council. There simply was no time for mourning when the Iron Throne was at stake.

When Rhaenyra finally returned to the painted table, she was in shambles, a scared, frail shadow of the strong Targaryen woman he’d known and cared for. It had taken all he had to hold back the grimace that fought its way out at the sight of her tear stained cheeks. They were of royal blood, Valyrian blood, and she should be ashamed to show such weakness openly, especially as the future queen.

She spoke of retribution for her fallen boy, demanding the life of the Hightower bitch’s second mongrel son, Aemond. Daemon had offered to fly to King’s Landing right away to avenge his wife, but none would take any part in his plan. So he did as he often did, connived in the shadows, plotting murder so that a one-eyed Targaryen princeling might die to replace the son Rhaenyra had lost.

But, it seemed nothing was ever good enough for the so-called Realm’s Delight. No act of loyalty, nor obeisance, nor love, nor retribution would ever amount to anything in his wife’s eyes. She did not seem to trust a word he said lately, viewing him always with thinly veiled scrutiny and scorning him from her bed every night. Perhaps she had only been interested in using him to solidify her claim as queen after all. The irony was not lost on him considering how badly he’d wanted the throne in the past. It all left Daemon feeling restless, his blood running hot with the need to satisfy his carnal urges. Admittedly, there were not many women within the confines of the castle, save for the servants, who were not especially comely. So, he ventured forth to the village below the Dragonmont, where farmers and fishermen lived around the now thriving port. There he walked the streets, drank in the tavern among the commonfolk, hoping to chance upon a suitable woman. Any fair of face with a willing cunt would satisfy his needs, but he was hoping to find someone of note, a beauty worth his seed.

So far, he has found nothing but mediocrity and it does nothing to stiffen his cock.

As he exits the tavern already deep in his cups, given the position of the sun it’s sometime past mid-day, and there is a celebration underway. A flutist is playing a lively tune as men and women alike dance together in the square. His eyes dart around, taking the scene in slowly considering his relatively inebriated state, until he catches a flash of blue.

And that is when he sees you. You are ravishing in light blue silk, a crown of yellow wildflowers upon your silvery-gold head of hair. Daemon finds himself completely enamored as he takes in your fetching features; the big blue eyes, your proud nose, those luscious lips, and the full swell of your breast has him reeling.

Daemon finds you a sight for sore eyes, a vision of purity and class coupled most gladly with the bosom of a well coveted whore. From the look of it, you are the bride, clutching arms with some young pup who is likely to be your new husband.

It was well known to Daemon that the towns below the mount were seeded with Valyrian blood. Going back two hundred years when Aenar Targaryen first arrived with his dragons, when the house began to practice the tradition of ‘First Night.’ Whereas a lord or king has the privilege over the smallfolk, to bed any bride first on their wedding night. As a result, it was not uncommon to see pale hair mixed in among the common, many having been bred within the Targaryen line for generations.

Daemon has never claimed such a right before, but he is inclined to command it at the sight of you. A wicked smirk begins to work it’s way up his lips as he approaches. He can’t believe his good fortune, that such a shining flower of a maiden was waiting for him, so close by, and that he just happened to stumble upon you at just the right moment to claim you.

As the King-Consort to be closes the distance, many begin to notice his presence with a look of awe and excitement on their faces. For on Dragonstone, the Targaryens were considered closer to the gods than other folk, and were esteemed as such. Brides that were chosen were considered blessed and envied by all. Many of these women were taken care of well by their benefactors, being endowed with luxurious gifts of jewelry, fine silks, and even bequeathed titles for land.

The children born of dragonseed were celebrated on Dragonstone and it is clear to Daemon by the fine silk of your wedding gown that you have been attended well by your Valyrian patron, whoever it may be.

He walks purposefully towards your merry, dancing form and takes hold of your arm to still your movement. When you look up at him, he cannot help but feel disappointed when your face drops, a look of despair crossing your face as you intrinsically know what he desires of you. Daemon had hoped you’d be pleased to attract his attention, that you’d consider it a godsend as most would. It is merely a minor blow to his ego that won’t stop him from taking your maidenhead.

Silence hangs in the air and before words can even be exchanged, an older woman with dark gray hair advances forth to him. She claims to be your mother and apologizes for your insolence.

‘The blood runs too strong in her, m’lord,’ she grovels with deference, bowing her head with every word.

Good he thinks to himself I like them feisty. Daemon grins, glaring sideways at the young man next to you. He would be considered handsome by most standards, but he is green, just a silly boy without disposition to even protect his alluring little wife. He intends to ruin you for any other fellow tonight, so not even your juvenile husband will ever be able to satisfy you again.

He snickers with satisfaction as your mother offers to escort the pair of you to a suitable location where he might take up his rights. Daemon can’t help but soak up every curve of your face and body like a predator eying up his next meal as she speaks, but you look on the verge of tears, ready to break at the thought of being torn away from your silly little wedding festivities.

“Might I freshen up first, My Prince,” you say, your civility barely held in tact through grit teeth.

“King,” he reminds you, furling his brow. This girl will be nothing but trouble. It will be best to break her swiftly. He then shakes his head non-nonchalantly. “And there is no need. You are already quite pristine and lovely in your wedding gown. I will take my claim now.”

You fluster, your cheeks growing impossibly red with embarrassment at not just the mention of his intent, but your own indignity as well. “My King,” you acknowledge his correction. “Allow us to ready the chambers for a man of your caliber. My marital bed is far too simple…” you continue prattling on. He isn’t really listening anymore though, instead focusing on the plump of your lower lip and how it might feel wrapped around his cock.

He also can’t help but notice how you sound much more proper than your mother, than most commonfolk really, and wonders if your Valyrian contributor has paid for your tutelage as well. You strike him as someone who has been overindulged in your life, treated as a lady of distinction. It would certainly explain your bratty attitude.

“I am not against the amenities of the commonfolk,” he offers indifferently. “As long as there is a clean surface, it will do.” It’s not like he hadn’t fucked in some of the filthiest brothels on the Street of Silk back in King’s Landing. At least there weren’t many rats in Dragonstone.

‘Oi, aell take ye to me own dwelling, m’lord,’ your mother is spouting now. ‘It aes clean, Ae wash the linens m’self.’

“Nonsense.” A man with well-kept clothes is now stepping forward and Daemon believes he recognizes him as the innkeep. He offers his finest suite for the union of Daemon and his freshly wed dragonseed maiden.

Gods, it’s good to be king.

Daemon can’t help but chuckle smugly at the look of absolute dread on your face. You think you’re so special, too important to be fucked by a king apparently. He was going to enjoy showing you otherwise.

His grip has not left your upper arm and it now tightens as he nods to the innkeep, accepting the proposition for a room. The man leads the way and Daemon follows, dragging you along with him and reveling in the way you peer back with sad lamb eyes at your newly minted husband. There is something so deliciously satisfying in tearing you away from that whelp of a lad, in taking what belongs to another simply because he can. It spoke to the primal side of him, the dragon within that would snatch up whatever it pleased without concern for morality.

He desires you now and he would soon have you whether you liked it or not. Rhaenyra had cowed him for far too long and now he’s going to reclaim his manhood, his brutal nature, by taking your bloody virtue on the head of his cock. For the bedroom was just as fierce as any battlefield and Daemon was a seasoned veteran of both arts.

Daemon’s stride is long and resolved as he jerks you closer to his side. You’re reluctant to be close to him, but finally heed the warning and match his pace as you both enter the tavern which also serves as the inn. Upstairs, the balding innkeeper opens the door and ushers Daemon into his freely provided chambers, with his unwilling maiden shuffling in beside him.

The room is quite nice for what it is. Accommodations for peasant folk were typically a mix of ramshackle furniture and blankets with patched holes in them, if the mattress had linens at all. This chamber is simple, but the furniture looks as though it were hand-crafted in town. The bed is very obviously carved by a skilled carpenter and topped with a red blanket as though it were actually a fine establishment.

“This will do nicely,” he nods to the innkeep. Even though Daemon knows he is not expected to offer compensation as an esteemed guest, he let’s you go from his grasp momentarily to fish a coin from his purse, and places it in the man’s hand. “My thanks,” Daemon offers plainly with a dismissive nod, declaring his desire to be left alone with his prize.

“My pleasure, My King,” the innkeeper says with an overzealous bow as he closes the door behind him, finally leaving Daemon alone with you.

You stand there looking like a stunned baby bird who has just fallen from the nest. Your hands are clasped together in front of your stomach as though that might defend you from his designs.

He smirks at you with a pointed laugh as he draws close. Daemon apprises you thoroughly, circling you like a beast as he takes in every sign of weakness, every swallow, every carefully withheld whimper.

“You know what will happen, girl?” he finally breaks the silence as he comes to a stop right behind you.

“Y-yes,” you answer unenthusiastically. The tremulous tone of your voice both excites and amuses him.

Daemon’s hands reach out to your waist then, finding the laces that hold your bodice tightly in place and he begins to untie them. You turn rapidly on your heels to face him, trying in vain to halt his advances. He can’t help but growl at your defiance as he tugs you against him, his grip like a biting jaw on your pliant body.

Grinning wickedly, he glares into your eyes, leaning in so closely that his forehead is against yours and his hot breath is in your face.

“I’m going to take you, little one,” his voice is filled with violence, his tone rough and dangerous. “You will give yourself readily or we can take the difficult path. But, I promise you would not like how brutish I can be. Especially considering how sore you will be once I take your maidenhood.”

Your expression contorts with hatred and insubordination as resignation tries to take root, but ultimately you refuse to budge. He has not broken your spirit yet, but he knows he soon will. Daemon hopes to avoid being truly cruel to you, that is unless you remind him of his fucking wife by being so gods damned obstinate. Then he might just be forced to take his impotence out on you.

“Or maybe…” he continues with a sardonic twitch of his brow. “Maybe since you’re behaving like such an ungrateful bitch, I’ll just fuck you hard and deep until I spill seed in your unspoiled little cunt. I might even keep you here all day, perhaps all night. I have not wet my cock for at least a moon’s length and I am wont to gorge myself in you.”

Your breath hitches at his menacing coercion and tears begin to well in your eyes. It doesn’t bother him, in fact he thinks you might look even more attractive when you’re crying. Most importantly, you nod subtly as you finally understand the truth of your situation, that he has conquered your rebuffs and brought you low before him. You should be much more compliant now.

Daemon presses a kiss against your cheek, relishing the taste of your fear and the way your body tenses in his arms. “Good girl,” he states in a calmer voice.

He swiftly turns you around again, his fingers moving deftly to work the laces of your corset free. You are sobbing quietly and even though he relishes the idea of making you submit, of seeing your eyes red and swollen as you take him to the hilt, it’s becoming tiresome to hear as he undresses you.

“Would you cease with all that incessant blubbering?” he chides you with palpable irritation. He pulls at your laces, then the fabric of the bodice, going back and forth to loosen it enough so he remove it from your body.

“I’m scared,” you peep. “That you will hurt me.” You’re reminding him of a bird once more, perhaps a little chick with no wings to fly, sniffling and pathetic as you accept your fate.

Daemon lets out an exasperated sigh. He would almost rather you be angry and spiteful than sniveling like this. He should have known to use a different tact, but he’s been out of practice for quite some time. He now sees with clarity that you’d be far more susceptible to seduction rather than brute force, but his anger with Rhaenyra had him on edge.

He places his hands on each of your shoulders and cranes his neck forward until his lips meet the spot below your right ear. You jump as he presses a gentle kiss against your skin, his fingers reaching over and caressing along your collarbone. He can feel you relax considerably with his shift in behavior and takes the opportunity to slide the sleeves of your dress down your arms.

“You need not be scared, little bird,” he whispers into your flesh as he leaves another kiss wet against the base of your neck. “I have bedded many a maiden in my time, and I assure you that I am a far more experienced and skillful lover than that untried boy you call husband.”

You swallow with difficulty and then your whole chest heaves upward as you let out a shaky breath. He is not sure if you’re still apprehensive about the pain involved in the act itself or if you dislike hearing him speak ill of your new spouse. It matters not, for Daemon knows he is best suited to tend to your needs on this day, and he will deliver you swiftly from your pain if you serve him well. He could also make it much worse than it has to be if you don’t.

But for the moment, you’re obliging him, not even resisting as he slips the sleeves of your dress off of your hands and they fall to your side. He groans at the pale skin bared to him, feverish at the thought of groping those large tits of yours without the restraint of any bindings.

“I know how best to alleviate your discomfort, my dear,” he continues, his breath tickling your skin. “I know how to hasten you to pleasure.” Daemon sucks teasingly at the lobe of your ear and delights as you shiver and goosebumps break out across the exposed flesh peering out from your low neckline. He is getting so eager now, craving the way you’ll squirm beneath him as he touches you, as he claims you.

He rocks the slackened bodice down over your waist, wiggling it from side to side until it clears your hips and the entire gown finally falls to the floor in a heap. You still don a sleeveless cloth chemise underneath that goes down past your knees, but the fabric is so thin that he can see the outline of your figure right through it.

Daemon feels the hairs on the back of his neck bristle as his cock bulges painfully against his breeches. He’d been so caught up in taming you, so fervent at the thought of plundering your shores, that he hadn’t even realized how much he was aching for you.

With a surge of fist and cord, his trousers are on the ground and he practically tears his braies off so he can press his throbbing length against you sooner. Being liberated from his smallclothes leaves his member free to prod the valley of your arse, and he yanks you back tightly against his chest with a grunt that makes you chirp. You are his sweet, helpless baby bird, ready to be devoured by the fox.

As though pulled by an invisible force, his hands are already snaking around to your front catching your breasts, one in each hand as he kneads them forcefully. You let out a strangled cry of distress as he tweaks your nipples firmly and Daemon’s eyes roll up at the supple, yet dense give of your breasts.

“By the old gods,” he rasps out, looking over her shoulder at the beautiful sight below of cleavage and ample bosom turning in his grip. “These are surely sacred treasures befitting a king.”

He has to feel you without the interference of meddling fabric, needs to see your breasts in all their splendor, to touch-taste-suck them until you cry out. A growl erupts through his nasal cavity and he abruptly yanks your shift down your shoulders, ripping the straps in the process of revealing your remarkable tits.

Seeing your exposed bosom, Daemon grinds his cock into your arse with arousal, his restraint faltering with the promise of you. He spins you towards him, walking backwards to the bed and drawing you by the hands with him. He glances up to see the uneasy expression on your face, the blush in your cheeks as you allow him to lead you. His cheekbones rise and his brow furrows slightly, regarding you with discernment and maybe a sense of pride as you walk bravely forward.

Daemon decides after brief consideration, that he likes you this way: vulnerable, yet courageous. The thought is fleeting as he hits the edge of the bed and sits down without hesitation, tugging you close until you are standing in the space between his parted thighs. Your tits are right in his face now, just where he wants them.

With an aggressive pull, he wrenches the shift from your body, laying you completely bare to him. He doesn’t even know where to begin, so much pale and youthful skin to take in that it makes him absolutely ravenous. Daemon’s hand reaches behind your back, holding you in place as he practically inhales your breast into his mouth. You writhe in his embrace, trying to back away from the intensity of his hungry maw to no avail as his strong arms keep you effortlessly in place.

He nips at the stiff peak, relishing the way you jump in response. Daemon’s hand slides downwards, cupping your round, tight ass with a squeeze. He leans back, taking in the view for a moment as he licks with the point of his tongue around your pale pink areola. He switches to the other beautifully pliant tit, tracing a line with his tongue across the valley of your breasts.

Daemon sucks hungrily at your nipple, palming the other with fanatical tenacity. He can feel your body wanting to withdraw, the way it pushes for more and pulls back at the same time, yet your feet remain firmly planted. He’d praise you for being so mannerly if his mouth weren’t full with your delicious tit at the moment.

He can feel his pulse pounding throughout his cock, standing erect between his legs and starving for any attention it can get from you. He relinquishes his grip on your breast, daring an attempt at getting you to relieve his torment as he clutches your hand and brings it down. Your hand retreats backwards, not wishing to participate, but Daemon is firm with you, guiding you to wrap your little bird wings around his engorged member.

Tepid, featherlight fingers graze against the sensitive skin of his too-fat-with-blood cockhead, and he lets loose a growl against the slope of your chest. “Fuck,” he hisses, sucking air through his teeth as you reluctantly touch him. At this point, his sexual deprivation paired with the immense lust he feels for you makes even your untrained pawing feel flawless in execution.

He’s quickly reaching the point of no return, his carnal urges so great that he knows he must have you soon. Daemon’s fingers lower to your tight little cunt, checking to see how ready you are for his impending intrusion. A knowing grin spreads across his cheeks as he feels the silken wet state of your folds.

“Mmm,” he pulls off of your nipple, peering up at you with violet eyes full of mischief. “Are you holding back how much you desire me, little bird? You naughty thing. What will your husband think?”

You flush red and while he was hoping to see indignation, he’s not displeased with the look of yearning present instead. Had he actually managed to ensnare you with the capable way he handled your body? Had he charmed you into his grasp when it seemed impossible you might actually enjoy yourself? Your silence is complicity as far as he is concerned.

Daemon smirks up at you deviously before switching back to your left breast, his tongue dancing across the tender nub as his fingers test and prod at your entrance. He doesn’t feel a solid membrane, but one that has already been teased on multiple occasions, likely coaxed from the efforts of the wanton little dragonseed herself. He could take her virtue with very little pain and she might even find pleasure in the act.

Dragging creamy nectar up from your heat, he holds your hood back, pressing his middle finger to your swollen pearl with a light, circular motion. You jolt into him, leaning forward as though your knees might buckle with even the slightest of coaxing from his touch.

He does not relent, continuing his attentions to both of your breathtaking breasts as he caresses the peak of your sex with practiced grace. You begin to whine, flinching your shoulders with every nip and suck of your tender nipples, your body becoming overly sensitive with his continued ministrations.

Daemon can feel the tension in your body rising and knows that you are ready for him. And not a moment too soon, he muses to himself, lest he lose his fucking mind with desperate need of you.

He stands up suddenly, gently walking you back a couple steps. He then picks you up into his arms with one fluid motion before depositing you with careful precision onto the bed. You look up at him with big eyes, dilated black with arousal as he climbs on top of you.

“You are a sight to behold, dear girl,” he says hoarsely, his voice heavy with desire. “I will not regret this joining and nor should you.” You look bewildered, a flurry of emotions all rolled into one, acutely aware and fuzzy at the same time.

For the first time, Daemon kisses you, and the feeling is like molten lava blazing through his heart and pooling in his gut. His cock is hard and threatening against your thighs, seeking entry with every jerk and twitch. His tongue sinks through your parted lips, dipping into the heat of your mouth, wanting to consume you whole.

He parts from your lips with an intake of breath, declaring gruffly, “You know that you belong to me now?”

With your quiet acceptance, Daemon positions his head at your core, pressing in just enough to fit snugly against your entrance. Leaning down once more, he cradles your back in his arms and presses another kiss to your lips. He needs to keep you distracted, his tongue dancing with yours, keeping you from dwelling too long on unavoidable pain. Gods knew, the feel of your passionate kiss was enough to divert his attention away from all meaningful thought besides the easing of your hurt.

Without warning, Daemon thrusts into you, breaking through your virtue as he holds you tightly. You cry out in startled agony as his length enters you, tears welling in the corners of your eyes at the sudden flash of pain. He holds position within you, soothing you with hushed whispers and gentle kisses through the worst of it.

As he thought, you are not upset for long, within moments already wiggling your hips around his swollen cock and hungry for more. He can’t help but grin with smug satisfaction at the way your body begs for more without speaking any words. Daemon will give you exactly what you crave. In fact, he loves how quickly you’ve become his little bird, his sweet harlot, forsaking your new husband for him in no more than a hand’s width of daylight.

He winces as he begins to move again; the way your cunt clings to his intruding cock for dear life is almost too much to bear. Daemon pulls back slightly to take you in and is not disappointed by the way your pretty lips are spread and panting out quick breaths of ecstasy. He had not lied to you, he’d certainly been with his fair share of maidens. None have come close to matching the beauty of your deliverance from chastity. You take to his girth with aplomb, to the act of love-making with a passionate, melodious abandon.

Daemon would watch your blissfully lurid expression, listen to your dulcet of sinful delectation, all day if he could. But, it’s not long before he can tell that your little cunny is going to give him trouble. If it hadn’t been so long since the last time he knew a pleasure better than his fucking hand, he might be able to deal with you. But, you are so fucking tight and he’s so wound up, that he opts to go out with a clash of smacking flesh. If he cannot make you peak this time, then he most certainly will on the next try, and he will most certainly take you again.

Your lilting moans drive him closer to the edge, pushing him faster than he’d like. Rearing up onto his knees, he clutches your hips tightly and spreads you across his lap. Daemon desperately tries to push you along to your climax, knowing it will be a race that he is likely to lose. He’s not expecting the intense response you give him or the way your hips buck as he coaxes your pearl to completion.

His eyes widen in disbelief, wincing as your pelvis seizes and you clamp down on him with a force so powerful it undoes him. “Fuccccking Hells!” he growls out sounding like a gruff animal as your walls milk his seed forth. Daemon’s member pulses violently, your muscles finally letting up only to begin rolling in waves across his length. “Gods fucking damn, girl!” he steadies himself against the bed, almost falling on top of you in the process.

His release lurches through his body, demanding and powerful as he erupts into you. He is faintly aware of the way your chanting with delight, muttering something incoherent while your small hands remain fastened to his back, holding onto him. The overwhelming rush finally passes and he is left feeling weak, breathless, but oh so fucking good.

Daemon wilts onto you, pressing a contented kiss against your lips. He’s not entirely surprised, but is still pleased when your hands find the back of his neck, deepening the kiss with vehemence. He feels the musculature of your inner lining contract upon his cock again and shakes his head as he parts from your lips.

“No. No more of that,” he gripes, still too sensitive to take that kind of abuse.

He recoils as he withdraws from you, unable to believe how big his cock looks, not fully hard, but still excessively fat considering. Daemon lies down beside you, wrapping his arm behind you and pulling you close.

You come willingly, cuddling into the crook of his arm as your hungry fingers roam about his jerkin.

And then it dawns on him, that in his impatience, he never even bothered to fully disrobe. He dutifully unfastens the clasps on his leather vest, displacing you for a moment as he tosses it aside and tears off his doublet.

“There,” he says with confidence. “Now you can have the full show.”

You laugh, a mirthful sound that makes his heart ache in a good way. Gods, he had really needed to get in a good plowing. He can feel all of his anger and tension melting away as he takes you back into his arms.

“So? Was it all bad?” he asks, fishing for compliments because he loves to hear them. He’d especially welcome them from a stubborn creature such as yourself.

Quietly, you shake your head, seeming at a loss for words. He could understand. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time. He’d essentially stolen you from the path you’d been traveling, plucked you up for himself without your say so. Daemon wouldn’t prod you to talk about it now that his appetites were sated, wouldn’t tease you about your husband now that he had claimed you fully.

He raises a brow as you speak unexpectedly, listening intently for your first real words since he’d imposed himself upon you.

“It was enjoyable,” you answer respectfully, your lusting eyes betraying your true feelings as your hands rove over his now bare chest, eager for more.

“Only enjoyable, little bird?” he decides to tease you a little bit, just for fun.

That mellifluous laugh returns, making him smile genuinely as he gazes upon you. Daemon strokes your back, relishing in the warm plushness of your skin as he settles into bed.

“Why do you keep calling me little bird?” she asks instead of padding his ego. “I am a dragon just as you… Am I not?”

His whole face lights up with a self-satisfied smirk. “Oh, are you a dragon now? I thought you were just a little bird.”

“I am a seed,” you contend with him, far more seriously than he expects you should. “I am of your line too.” You run your fingers into your disheveled hair, twirling cornsilk strands as evidence.

“Well, yes, but you are not quite a dragon. It’s true you have wings and the means to fly, but that does not make a dragon, my delicate little bird,” he cannot help but say it with a mocking tone, enjoying your reactions too much to let it go.

You dare a fearless smack at his chest, indignant and pouting. He would normally kill someone for laying hands on him in any manner of disrespect, but Daemon does not mind it from you in this moment.

“Perhaps, you do have some fire in you yet,” he taunts you with amusement. You look at him wide eyed as though he’s about to admit that you are a dragon just as he is. You make this too easy. He chuckles as he continues to rib you, “I’ll call you my firebird then. I think that suits you nicely.”

Daemon’s brow winks with humor as you take another swing at him. He holds your arms down to your sides as he pulls you on top of him. He let’s you go as your annoyance settles, regarding you fondly as he tucks loose tresses of silvery hair behind your ears.

“I hope you know that I’m going to come back for you again and again, my little firebird,” he utters in a lower tone, his voice taking on a more serious quality now.

You give him a twisted look of both gladness and remorse, your mind unable to decide whether this is a good or a bad thing.

“Do you care for your husband?” he asks earnestly, not pleased with the idea of another man laying hands on you. “I can conscript him to the queen’s army if you wish to free yourself from him. You need only ask.”

You look torn, but he can tell you’re considering his words carefully. “He is not a bad man as far as I know. The marriage was selected by my mother, my husband earns a living well enough to pay my way.”

It bothers Daemon to hear you call the man your husband, even if it’s true. He considers killing the man masquerading as your groom for you should undoubtedly belong entirely to him and no other.

“Paying your way will no longer be an issue. I will ensure that you are financially supported from this day forth, but I will not give you up,” he hears the words spilling from his mouth and feels like an old fool. He’d celebrated too many namedays to be spewing this lovesick shit? He couldn’t help it though. You stoked a fire inside of him that made him feel alive and vibrant, he needed to keep burning with you.

“I appreciate that,” you offer with a small, but hesitant smile. “I’m sure my mother will be thrilled. She has always tried to make sure I’m well looked after. It’s unfortunate you could not find me a day sooner. I’m not sure how to face him now,” she says with a trembling lip. “He will expect to bed me. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to. It would make me nothing but a whore.”

“Hush,” Daemon says disagreeably. “Don’t say such things.” He finds himself cradling your sweet head against his chest, hating how true your words are and that he is the one responsible for your situation. He must make it his own responsibility to free you from it then.

“I’ll pull you to castle staff then,” he offers, grasping at possible solutions. It would not be wise to tempt Rhaenyra’s wrath under her own roof, but it would be a means to separate you from your husband at least temporarily, until something more lasting could be devised. There were many positions that would keep you far from his wife’s vicinity as well, if she would even notice that he had taken a lover to begin with.

He might also simply murder the bastard and be done with it, but it might be nice to have you close by in Dragonstone too for opportunistic dalliances.

You begin to protest the idea of going to work at the castle, but he won’t hear any of it and interrupts you. “I will give you a choice then, in recompense for what I’ve taken from you. Will you stay with me, little firebird, or with your husband?” He peers at you with thoughtful bluish-red irises, waiting to hear your answer. He has already decided that he will abide by whatever ruling you make, at least for a time. If you wish to bed your husband as well as him, then that will be your prerogative.

“I do not wish to stay with my husband,” you say quicker than he anticipated.

“Well,” he practically gloats with a mischievous grin. “You’ll be coming home with me then.” Daemon presses a happy kiss against your lips, the sight of your bosom sinfully crushed against his chest sends a pang of desire to his cock, signaling it for action. “But, we might as well make good use of the room first. It was graciously afforded to us after all.”

Daemon reaches down to grip your hips, letting forth a hiss of air as he positions you on his already rigid length. You, his little firebird, would be keeping his flame kindled all this day and perhaps all night as well, with many more to follow. You were his now, born from a threat and remade into a promise that he intended to keep. Dragonseed has officially been continued! Read Chapter 2

[magicbystarlight]

A Lady and Her Knight

Gwayne Hightower x Velyaron! (Vaemond’s daughter) Reader

Summary: You tease a knight and he falls ridiculously in love with you for it.

Word Count: 6.3k (I had to stop myself)

Warnings: 18+, Brief misogyny and xenophobia (not from Gwayne), injuries, verbal & physical teasing, milk comes out your nose, fluuufff, Gwayne is a romantic, oral sex (fem! receiving), grinding, Gwayne makes a mess. Minors DNI.

A/N: This is self indulgent, I make no apologies

“All this,” you muttered, eyeing the servants as they continued to scurry about in preparation for the various nobles who’d be arriving within the following days, “for a boy that may not even exist.”

Your aunt, Princess Rheanys, sighed beside you. “As is the way of the world.”

You could still remember her standing between your Uncle Corlys and the old King Jahearyes, Visyers and his then pregnant wife Aemma opposite them. The Queen Who Never Was. Your father’s confidence she’d be made queen and that his brother would pass High Tide to him. Your father’s sudden switch in loyalties when the council had named Viserys instead. “A woman can never rule.” What a statement to make to a daughter.

“At least,” she said, taking your arm to continue strolling through the bustling courtyard, “this shall offer you a chance to be amongst more than sailors and children.”

You mirrored her teasing smile. “The children I do not so much mind. Perhaps I shall take them to see the knights practice in the training yard.”

She said you name warmly, a fondness built through years of companionship during her husband’s frequent voyages and trips to King’s Landing, “perhaps instead you will find company with those more suited for your age while you are here.”

Nose scrunched, you asked, “Are you trying to rid yourself of me? Or is Laena?” It was all in jest, but you wouldn’t doubt your young cousin would like a less astute guardian during her time here. It wouldn’t surprise you if there wasn’t at least one attempt to sneak off to the dragon pit. “No, it must be Laenor. I have embarrassed him too oft on our journey with my superior knots.” He’d need to improve them soon. Not only for the sake of his future as Lord of the Tides, but if he ever hoped to be a dragon rider like his mother. Rope secured the saddles better than anything else.

“I assure you, sweet niece, no one is displeased with you. It is only my wish that you enjoy this trip as much as everyone else.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you assented. “I suppose I shall try, if only to please you, Princess.”

—

The wish went unfulfilled. Instead, you found yourself hidden behind closed doors serving as cupbearer to the Small Council in place of the younger princess. The Realm’s Delight, it was reasoned, should be the face that greeted the lords and their kin in the absence of the king or his queen. That the Hand’s daughter stood at her side was only right. And, you who so oft served as cupbearer within High Tide, were a perfect replacement for the time being.

It was not the sort of gossip you’d hoped to partake in, but still you listened intently as you filled cups again and again with their preferred Dornish Red. Your uncle hardly touched his now as he gave another plea for them to take his warning of the Crab Feeder seriously. But once again, it was brushed off by the Hand with the empty promise that it was taken under advisement. Talk turned quickly into that of the tourny. You had to turn your back so they could not see the roll of your eyes. Back and forth, the king argued his child was a boy who’d be born at some time during the week despite the insistence of part of his council that it wasn’t certain.

When you turned back, you caught Corlys’s frustrated eye. The Triarchy had already made trouble for ships that ported in Driftmark. Were it to continue there would be financial burden on the realm. One your house would feel first. And the king and his council did not much care. Your head bowed ever so slightly in acknowledgement of his ire before his attention returned to the discussion at hand. You made to do the same, but the heavy gaze of the Hand himself had you quickly averting your own to the floor. It stayed there for the remaining minutes as the inane chatter dissolved and the men rose to depart.

You were quick to your uncle’s side. He’d want to speak with his wife and air his grievances in a more hospitable setting. You’d take the children to the gardens or perhaps the training yard as you’d first planned.

“Lord Corlys,” Otto Hightower called, pausing your escape. He strode down the table, coming to stand on his other side. “I wish to assuage your worries that you have gone unheard today. You have not. Once the tourney has passed and the heir is in the king’s hand, there shall be a much more comprehensive discussion with the Council of what shall be done with this crab feeder.”

The stiff posture your uncles had held eased. “That is good to hear.”

Otto hummed. “And I would like to invite you, Princess Rhaenys, and,” his attention fell on you, “your niece to dine with me this evening.”

An eyebrow rose on your uncle’s face.

“My nephew arrived with my son from Old Town this morning. As he is the future Lord of Old Town, I think it would be very wise for him to build a relationship with Driftmark and learn from your many successes.”

Flattery was always your uncle’s vice. As was the opportunity to talk of his great adventures. He bowed his head. “We’d be honored.”

—

You weren’t nearly drunk enough. But your aunt had ceased the flow of wine and had whispered to a servant to have it replaced with a nut milk after you’d downed your second glass. Perhaps it was for the best. A loose tongue would surely injure the idiot beside you.

On and on Lord Ormund went, talking about nothing save for his own life. The gardens in Old Town he’d one day inherit, the two links he’d earned at the Citadel, how well trained he was with a sword, how he’d received three offers of marriage from lords of lesser houses for their daughters, and how thrice he’d denied them.

“Lovely girls, I am sure, but too commonly pretty. I myself want a wife of more exotic beauty.”

“Perhaps you should speak with my uncle then,” you said, shoving your fork so forcefully into a slice of potato it broke apart, “he could help you prepare for your journey across the Narrow Sea. He knows many of the nobility within Volantis and Braavos as well. He may know of a match suitable for a future Lord.”

He laughed. “No, no. I am not a man built for sea travel. Nor would I wish for a wife of a foreign mind. Too many queer customs.”

You held in a rather rude retort. “An exotic beauty without a foreign mind? I believe you may find a mermaid with more ease.”

“You are a modest creature.”

You choked on your milk trying to stifle a laugh followed by the awful feeling of it snorting out of your nose. You’d been flirted with before, but never so poorly. As he showed concern and your aunt and a servant mopped up your mess with napkins, Otto’s eldest son drawled, “Careful, cousin. You’ll kill the poor girl with your charm.”

A coughing fit covered another repressed laugh. Your aunt’s hand patted your back. Once you’d caught your breath and cleared the water from your eyes with a handkerchief pulled from the bust of your dress, you met Gwayne’s sea-blue ones. They crinkled in a way that had you thinking there was a smile hidden behind his own goblet. The cloth in your hand pressed against your mouth to try to stop yet another bout of laughter and you had to train your gaze on the table to keep any composure. Gods, this dinner could be the death of you.

“Are you feeling ill, my lady?” Ormund questioned.

“I am afraid I am,” you said, still hiding your mouth behind the cloth. “I had hoped it would pass as I was very much looking forward to this lovely dinner, but I fear it has crippled me beyond politeness. My apologies, but I think it best I retire for the evening and rest.”

“But of course,” Otto said. The Hand of the King saw through your act. You realized it as he offered his nephew to walk you to your chambers. When you rejected the idea, trying to implore the table you were fine to go alone, Otto merely said with a smile, “It is a long walk. It would ease my mind to know you were escorted there safely, especially given your delicate health at the present.”

Your eyes flicked from your aunt’s to your uncle’s looking for support. You had no desire to deal with Ormund alone. But they merely agreed. Your aunt’s arched brow hinted that it was a consequence of your own actions.

“Ormund should stay.” Gwayne was already standing as he spoke. “It’s a rare thing to get to speak with a Lord such as Lord Coryls. As I am not set to inherit a Lordship like you cousin, I shall ensure the lady is returned safely. I wish to visit the stables anyways.” He was a man of confidence, striding to the door and pausing at it to offer his arm. “My lady?”

You nearly knocked over your chair standing. A rushed farewell is all you offered the rest of the table before meeting Gwayne at the door and taking his arm. “This is where you say thank you,” he said when you reached the bottom of the stairs, far far away from the ears of your respective families.

“Thank you?”

He smirked. “For aiding you in your distress.”

“I was not in distress.”

A snort.

“I wasn’t! I was mildly inconvenienced at best.”

“Perhaps when I return this evening, I shall tell my dear cousin how fondly you spoke of him. How struck you were by him that you nearly swooned speaking of his handsome features.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, retracting your arm from his. “You would not dare.”

He grinned. A grin so charming, it could convince a saint to sin. A grin you had a strong urge to smack. “Is that a risk you’re willing to take over a few words of gratitude?”

You stared at him for a long while. His grin never wavered. The fool thought he had won. You cocked your head and, with a voice so sweet you could taste it, said, “You are right, Ser Gwayne. Thank you for your daring rescue. Though I fear a simple ‘thank you’ is not nearly enough.” His grin shrank as you stepped closer to him. “Perhaps a kiss for such chilvary?” Your hand rose to his chin.

His throat bobbed as you stroked his jaw. “My lady,” he tried to say, hand rising to halt yours.

“No, I suppose a kiss would not be appropriate.” You took another step forward, chest pressing against him. “My maidenhead is much more proportionate to such an act of bravery.” You grinned then.

His smile had fallen away. “You mock me?”

“You started it,” you shrugged. You tried to step back, but his grip tightened on your wrist to hold you in place.

A breath left him. He stared down at you, a look of shock that melted to one of amusement. Breath warm on your cheek, Gwayne leaned in and whispered, "A dangerous game to play. A lesser man would take your teasing as an invitation.”

You tilted your head up, nose brushing his, and mockingly cooed, "My savior.”

He snorted and released his grip, fingers dragging along your palm before his touch vanished. He shook his head and took a step away, putting distance between the two of you. It did little to help the tension. “We should get you to your rooms before dinner ends less you wish to tell Ormund the truth of your spilled milk.”

—

“It’s not fair,” Leanor whined as he tugged at the rope that bound his wrists. “How am I supposed to untie something without any hands?”

Leana giggled, her own ropes dangling from her wrists. “It’s easy!”

Leanor frowned.

“It’s not easy,” you corrected, plucking his knot until it came loose. The godswood was empty besides your trio. “It takes skill and practice to be able to do. It took me years to do it.”

“But why do I have to?”

You sighed. “Because, you,” you poked his nose, “are a valuable captive to have. And if you ever are in such a position, I want you to be able to get out of it.”

Leanor pouted, but didn’t argue more. He rubbed his freed wrists and watched as you tied Leana. It didn’t take long before he was bored, complaining he wanted to go to the training yards to see the knights practice. Leana soon followed.

You were on the verge of caving to their pleas when another trio entered the godswood. Rhaynera, Alicent, and Gwayne.

“Are you holding these children hostage?” Gwayne called.

“Yes!” the children yelled back. The ladies were giggling as they came upon you, Alicent holding a large book to her chest.

You rolled your eyes. “Tis a pleasure to see you again, Ser Gwayne. Though I fear it is poor timing as we are about to depart to the training yard.”

“We are?” Leana asked excitedly

“What fortunate timing,” Rhaynera disagreed, sharing a smirk with his sister, “as that is where Ser Gwayne is headed.”

Leanor looked at him with round, awed filled eyes. “To train for the tournament?”

“Indeed,” he said, kneeling to pull the knot on the boy’s wrists. It came undone easily. “Do you intend to become a knight one day?”

The boy nodded eagerly.

Gwayne looked to Leana, offering her the same aid. Her eyes were not quite as wide with awe. She freed herself with her teeth.

Gwayne chuckled. “I see you take after your cousin.” He stood and extended his hand towards you. You looked from it to his face. A teasing smile and a spark of challenge in his eyes. You could have sworn his lips curled wider when your fingers grasped his palm.

“Careful, Ser. Such high praise will inflate my ego nearly as much as your own. I’m not sure there’s enough space in all King’s Landing for that.”

—

Gwayne was a very pretty man. Clean, well groomed, and handsomely dressed, he was the sort songs would be written about. But after hours in the training yard, dirt clinging to his sweat drenched skin and hair askew? You were not sure there was a word for it, but whatever it was made you ache in ways unfit of a lady. The children had been sheparded off an hour before by their mother, much to their chagrin. They'd been entranced by the fighting and weapons and grieved to leave it behind for arithmetic. But you'd stayed. Leaned against a wall as he'd shown off and you'd pretended to be unimpressed.

"You are still here, my lady?" he asked as he stepped out of the crowd of knights and squires, chest heaving from exertion.

You shrugged, trying to keep your eyes trained on his face. "I've not else to do."

"And you are certain you have not stayed to avoid anyone?" He leaned beside you.

That confused you. "Who would I be avoiding?"

Your confusion confused him. "Ormund?"

You breathed a laugh. "Oh my, I had forgotten he existed." Another giggle. Gwayne's beautiful smile spread wide. The bright white a contrast against his dirtied skin. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. You reached into the bust of your gown and withdrew a handkerchief. "You're dripping."

He accepted it and wiped his face, pausing to inhale the scent. "Lavender?"

"And rosemary." You grieved to see the grim wiped away.

He grimaced as he surveyed the cloth. "I fear I may have stained it."

"It is only a handkercief."

"I shall have it cleaned."

"Ser Gwayne," you cut him off and reached into the otherside, pulling free another. Your body tingled as his gaze lingered on your breasts. "Tis a cloth. I have many more." His cheeks colored as he realized his gaze had yet to waver. He accepted the second and mopped up the sweat from his neck.

"I have offended you."

You snorted. "Hardly." Flattered more like.

"Still," he said, folding the cloths and tucking them in his pocket, "I do not wish to have you think me a pig."

"A pig you are most certainly not. As you said, a lesser man would have taken my teasing as invitation last night," you assured.

Gwayne laughed, throwing his head back and nearly choking on the sound. "You are truly a wonder."

Your nonchalance was beginning to crack. The teasing had heated your skin in such a way it turned damp. You fanned yourself with your hand to aleve the warmth. "A wonder who is in want of a bath."

"You wish to join me in a bath?"

Surprise colored your laugh. “My, my, you have grown quite bold in but a day! Perhaps you do belong in a pen.”

—

You sat beside Alicent, clapping along at the Dornishman who’d unseated a Tarley squire. You remembered him from the training yard from the last few days you’d spent watching. Vaguely. Most of your attention had been concentrated on someone else. Lord Baratheon embarrassed himself next, asking for favor of The Queen Who Never Was only to be unseated by the very same Dornishman. Your aunt’s smirk as he was dragged away matched your own.

Your heart raced as Gwayne rode out in the line of knights for Prince Daemon to choose from. His face was hidden behind his helmet, the motif of the High Tower adorning it like a crown. Prince Daemon passed the line slowly, studying the options. He veered his horse back at the end of the line and strutted past several knights before pausing, backtracking, and pointing his lance. At Gwayne. From the spat Daemon and Otto had had during the last Small Council meeting the day before, you doubted it was anything more than some petty vendetta on the prince's part.

But Gwayne trotted happily to the stands and came to a halt in front of you. He lifted his visor, grin wide. He held his lance towards you. "Might you do me the honor, my lady, of giving me your favor?"

Heat bloomed through your face as you stood, clutching the garland tightly. Eyes bore into you from every angle. You let garland, wrapped in rope and seashells, slide down the lance. "I wish you luck, my knight."

He gave a short bow, shutting his visor and returning to the field. The herald announced the start as you returned to your seat. Nails dug into the wood. Gwayne clipped the prince's shield, nearly knocking him off his horse and sending his lance flying. But upon their second meeting, the prince speared his new lance into the ground in front of Gwayne's horse. Both horse and rider hit the ground hard. His helmet had flown off and his face took the full force of the fall.

You stood as his body lay limp on the ground. For the few seconds he did not move, a crushing despair wrapped around your lungs. He’d only been in your life for a fortnight now, but you could not imagine it without him. A silly romantic notion you’d have mocked another for. But you could not help it. The despair eased only slightly when his head rose. Alive. Squires took hold of his arms and half carried, half dragged him away.

"My apologies, my lady," Daemon called cheerily as he cantered over, "for besting your knight. Perhaps I may take on your favour in recompense?"

Gwayne's retreating form disappeared behind the flaps of a tent. Your gaze turned on the prince, hard and cold. "Thank you, but my favor is not so easily redirected."

His smirk did not falter. "Well, that is a pity." You do not stay to see what conversation he had with his niece and Alicent.

The men in the tent tried to force you away. Not a place for a lady. But after years on docks and ships, you knew how to hold your ground in places much harsher than some medical tent. Gwayne laid on a bed, armor gone and face cleaned. Cuts littered his face and his eye was beginning to bruise. But he was awake, watching you in amusement. "Are you lost, my lady?"

Relief sagged your shoulders. "I was worried." You knelt at his bed and gripped his hand. "Are you alright?"

"My ego may never recover, but my body will."

Your other hand brushed hair from his face. "You do not give your ego enough credit. It shall recover quite well." Your teasing lacked any bite.

He leaned his head into your palm. "With your attentions nursing it, perhaps."

You shook your head, but smiled. "Perhaps." You lowered your voice. "If there is anything you need, any way I can help, you must tell me."

"There is one thing." His hand squeezed yours. "I have not yet asked your uncle. I had hoped to after I crowned you Queen of Love and Beauty, but alas." You bit your lip at the heat creeping up your neck. He sat up, holding your hand tighter. "I cannot think of a less romantic setting than here, but I can no longer contain myself. Will you allow me the honor of your hand?"

"Do you not already have it?" you teased.

His eyes narrowed. "That is not an answer."

"It is not," you agreed. "But it is a taste of what to expect when you are my husband."

His smile returned. "Call me that again."

"My husband?"

He hummed, bringing your hand to his lips. "Yes I quite like the sound of that."

Your smile mirrored his. "Shall I call for a Septon?"

"Tempting as the offer is, I have already denied you romance in my offer. I will not deny you a true wedding as well." He kissed the back of your hand again. "Nor am I up to face your uncle's sword were I to marry you without his consent."

You heaved a sigh and pouted. "Denied me? What is romance if not a confession made from nothing more than one's heart? I shall be the envy of all who learn that your love was so repulsed by restraint. I could marry you here and now and be just as happy." You leaned forward and placed a kiss against his temple. In a whisper you added, "Happier perhaps, as I would share your bed this night."

He groaned. "Do not make my recovery so difficult, my lady."

You smiled, pulling away. "You are right, my knight. We should perhaps wait until you are at least fully capable of taking me in the ways a man should his wife."

"You are cruel," he chuckled. "Perhaps I should rescind my offer."

"And deprive yourself of a wife such as me? Never."

"No, never.

—

Nine moons. They wanted to wait nine moons for a wedding. Time for you both to return to your respective homes and then for you to travel via ship to Old Town. Nine whole moons apart.

“It’s not ideal,” Gwayne agreed as you walked through the gardens. “But it is not as long as it could be. I’ve seen engagements last years.”

Your head rested against his arm. “I should have convinced you to marry me in that tent.” The scars had nearly healed on his face. A tragedy. They suited him well.

He stopped and took both your hands in his. His lips brushed across your knuckles. “It would not have taken much.”

You tilted your head, a soft smile spreading across your face. His nose bumped against yours. His breath fanned across your cheeks. Your hand moved to cup his cheek, thumb tracing a scar. “How cruel for you to tell me days later. Is it not punishment enough I must wait nine moons for even a kiss?”

He hummed. His hand raised to cradle the back of your neck. The tips of his fingers danced along the exposed skin there. Tension coiled tight in your stomach. You tilted your head up ever so slightly, breath fanning against his mouth.

Gwayne hesitated. “We should not.”

“Please?”

He closed the little distance, lips pressing softly against yours. It was quick and light and not nearly enough. You chased his lips as he pulled away, the hand on his cheek not letting him escape. Another kiss. Longer, less delicate. Then another. His lips parted and his tongue slid across yours in a plea for entrance. One you granted happily. Your hand fell to his tunic and tugged him along as you began to walk backwards into a small alcove where you’d be less likely to be seen.

Hidden away, his arm wrapped around your waist and held you taut against him. The kiss was deep and desperate and the ache between your legs maddening.

"Gwayne," you gasped against his lips. You pressed closer. The groan that left his mouth shot straight to your core. You whined, pulling back from the kiss and looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Gwayne," you repeated.

"We shouldn't," he muttered, kissing your cheek. "Not here. Not now."

Your head fell back as his lips traced the column of your neck. "Why?"

"Because," his teeth nipped at the underside of your jaw, "I am not a lesser man." His nose traced along your jaw, stopping at the hinge. "And the first time I take you, I want to be able to spend the entire night worshiping you in our wedding bed."

"Gwayne.”

His groan was pained. He dropped his forehead against your shoulder, grip on your waist tightening. Had it not been for the call of your name from further in the gardens, you were sure you could have convinced him of much more than a few stolen kisses.

—

Daemon was not an easy man to find. After the birth of the king’s son and his loss of the tourney, he’d been absent much of the remaining festivities. But luck was on your side as you found him strolling through the same corridor as you. Alone.

"Prince Daemon," you called, catching his attention. He paused and turned towards you, an easy smirk on his face.

"My Lady," he greeted, bowing his head. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

You smiled. “How would you like to displease the Lord Hand?”

—

Just as promised, guards were nowhere to be found when you scurried through the sleeping Keep. The unattended door opened without resistance. Crackling from the fire and soft snores were the only sounds in the room. With a smile, you shut the door and drooped your cloak over a chair.

Your steps were silent, careful, as you came upon the bed.

Gwayne snored. Not loud, not obnoxious. Soft and sweet. He slept on his stomach, arms wrapped around the pillow under his head. Only a thin sheet covered him and it laid dangerously low on his hips. His bare back a canvas of muscle and freckles.

You called his name and shook his shoulder. He snorted, turning his head and cracking his eyes. They went wide. Like the pure maiden he was, he reached for the sheet and pulled it to cover his bare chest.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could not sleep.”

His head tilted and eyebrows drew together. "That is...not a good reason."

"I could not sleep," you repeated, a teasing edge to your voice, "because I could not stop thinking about you."

He swallowed, the lump in his throat bobbing. "My love," he said, voice thick. It was the first time he called you that. “You should not be here. If someone saw you—“

"They didn’t.”

His gaze was heavy as he searched your face and then fell to the lace trimmed shift. And your bare thighs. “Have you come to seduce me?”

You leaned forward, breath ghosting across his lips. His hand gripped the sheet tightly, knuckles white. His tongue flicked across his lower lip. "Is it working?"

“This is highly improper. We are not married.”

“But we will be.” You pulled back. “Unless you have changed your mind.”

His arm snaked around your waist, dragging you on top of him with a surprised yelp. The sheet was the only thing between you. Something pressed against your rear. No, not something. Him. Cock. Penis. Member. Whatever it was called. It was hard. His hands settled on your waist. Adoration and desire had him staring at you like a man starved. "My lady, my love," he murmured, thumbs stroking your ribs, "I shall never change my mind."

"Good," you whispered, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss against his lips. A kiss that turned more urgent and deep as your hands roamed along his chest. He groaned, the sound muffled by your mouth. His hands slid to your hips to push you lower. His hardness pressed against your aching cunt. You rocked against it, relishing the feeling and the way his head fell back, breaking the kiss, and a string of curses you’d never heard from him escaped.

"Gwayne," you gasped, rolling your hips. His grip tightened. He rocked with you, creating an addicting friction.

”This must go,” he said, tugging up your shift. You helped him discard it quickly. "Gods," he hissed. Your own curse fell from your lips as his hands cupped your breasts. “How are they more beautiful than I imagined?”

“Imagined?”

His thumb flicked across a nipple, drawing a gasp from you. “Every night since you offered me your maidenhead.” The coil in your belly tightened. He flipped the two of you over, the weight of his body pinning you down. The sheet had been pushed down enough for his cock to spring free. It lay hard against your thigh. His lips pressed kisses along your jaw. His hand returned to your breast. His other snaked between your bodies and down.

His finger pressed against the little bundle of nerves. Pleasure shot through your veins, your back arching. He kissed down your chest and took a nipple into his mouth. His finger worked slow, teasing circles around the nub. The coil wound tighter.

"Gwayne," you sighed as a second finger joined the first. They dipped inside of you. "Gwayne."

His chuckle vibrated against your skin. His lips traveled lower, peppering kisses over your stomach. The hand on your breast slipped lower, wrapping around your thigh and spreading your legs wider.

You moaned as his tongue flicked over the bundle.

"So wet," he moaned, dipping his tongue inside. Your hand buried in his hair, urging him to keep going. And he did. Licking, sucking, teasing. Every motion had the coil winding tighter. Your toes curled. Your hips bucked. With a cry, pleasure flooded through every vein.

Trembling, panting. Eyes shut from the blissful high. The bed shifted. The warmth of his body above yours disappeared. A moment later, his lips pressed against yours.

"My love," he said, stroking a thumb along your jaw.

Your eyes opened, staring at his flushed face. A sheen of sweat covered his brow. His lips swollen. You surged forward, crashing your lips against his.

A growl rumbled through his chest as he pinned you to the bed again. His tongue invaded your mouth, claiming it as his. His cock pressed against your thigh. You spread your legs wider, welcoming him between them. He rocked, the tip brushing between your folds. He sucked in a breath and his eyes squeezed shut. His fingers dug into the mattress. He was holding himself back.

"We shouldn't," he mumbled.

You frowned, sitting up on your elbows. "Why not?”

“Because I will not take your maidenhead until by law and the gods I am your husband.”

Your hips rolled and his tip slid through the wetness once more, drawing another moan from him. He pressed his forehead against yours.

"You are cruel."

"Tis what you love about me," you countered.

"My love," he murmured, pressing his lips against yours in a soft, brief kiss. "My love." Another. And another.

Your hands braced against his chest. "My husband."

He groaned, burying his head against your neck. He nipped at the skin and rocked against you, careful to not slip inside. You bit your lip to stifle your own sounds as his cock rubbed against your bundle. Your hand slid to his rear, digging into the flesh, and rocking with him. It was an intoxicating sensation. Feeling him against you, hard and heavy. "My love," he gasped against your collarbone.

"My husband," you breathed.

A stilted breath. He hips snapped forward once. Twice. Spend coated your thigh. His cock softened against your leg. He pressed kisses along your neck and shoulder. "My love."

You chuckled. "I believe you've made a mess, good Ser."

He grunted and lifted his head, grinning. He pressed a kiss against the tip of your nose. "I believe that is your fault, my love."

"My fault? I hardly think so."

He nuzzled his nose against yours. "I am but little more than the victim of your temptation. I was peacefully sleeping when you came near nude into my private chambers to seduce me."

"Perhaps you should lock your doors if you do not wish to be disturbed."

"Perhaps I should." Another soft kiss and he peeled himself away. A moment later he returned with two handkerchiefs in his hands. Your handkerchiefs. "The servents are going to think I had these cleaned so I could relieve myself in them." He used them to clean the mess he'd left across your thigh.

Tears welled in your eyes as you watched. He was set to leave in two days time and then you would not see him for nine moons. Not see his face, not hear his voice, not make him laugh. You did not fear he would change his mind. Only that his absence would drown you in despair.

Concern painted his face as he looked up to your face. “What is wrong?”

“I shall miss you.”

Handkerchiefs discarded on the floor, he came and cradled you against him. “I shall miss you too.”

—

“Funny thing,” the prince said as you poured a new bottle of wine into the decanter. You were surprised he made it to the small council meeting. “I sent servants this morning to discover a defilled maiden in her bethrothed’s bed, but all they found was said betrothed and a few defiled handkerchiefs.”

You bit your tongue to quell the giggle that threatened. What beautiful shade of red had Gwayne turned upon discovery? “The betrothed sounds like an honorable man.”

“And the maiden like a woman who denied me a great pleasure.”

“If it’s any consolation, she too was denied a great pleasure.” You paused, cocking your head. “Well, not entirely denied. But she is a maiden still.”

“A pity for all.”

—

The carriages were packed, the Hightower entourage trilling about to leave in less than an hour's time. Alicent and Rhaynera were amongst the pack. They’d be in Old Town for the next year to witness the wedding. But Gwayne had yet to join them.

“My cousin is not the timeliest. Prepare to be late for much. You shall spend much of your marriage waiting for him to tear away from his own reflection,” Ormund taunted. He’d been less than happy about the match. A bruised ego.

You smiled sweetly at him. “I expect to be late to much. For I shall find it difficult to tear myself away from him and our bed.” He blanched at that and soon excused himself.

“What in heavens did you say to send him running off like that?”

You spun to find your betrothed and his teasing smirk. “I have no idea. We were only speaking of your tardiness and how frequently you and I shall be tardy once we are wed.”

“And here I thought your cruelty could only be aimed at me.” He took your hand and placed a kiss against it. The most he could offer in such a public place. And the last for many moons.

A pain shot through your heart.

“Have you come to say goodbye?” Alicent called from a few yards away. It confused you as she made her way over. Had you not already wished her a safe trip?

“Indeed, sister,” Gwayne said, bowing his head. “What sort of brother would I be if I did not come to see you off?”

You held your tongue long enough for them to speak their farewells. When she’d returned to the princess’s side, you rounded on him. “You’re staying?”

He continued to stare ahead, watching his kin prepare for their journey. “Nine moons was far too long to be apart. Lady Leana was kind enough to help convince the Lord and Lady of the Tides that I should see the ancestral home of my betrothed.” Tears fell down your cheeks. Fretting over the display, his thumb swept away the wet streaks “My love, I thought you would be happy?”

“I am sorry. These are not sad tears, I am happy.” How you wished you were alone. “I am beyond happy.” The tears continued to fall. You pulled free a handkerchief from your bust and dabbed your face. You were prepared to say something heartfelt about how glad you were to have him, but his eyes were locked on your breasts. And a bulge was forming in the trousers. “Does a handkerchief arose you?”

Red colored his face and he attempted a casual pose with his hands to hide the growing problem. “It is your and your lovely bosom’s fault.”

A wicked grin spread across your face. “It is like a dog trained with a bell,” you mused. “I wonder what other tricks I can teach you in nine moons trapped with me on ships and an island.”

[novaursa]

hello !! i hope ur doing amazing and i wanted to say how much i rlly enjoy reading ur work like its always amazing and just MWAH chef’s kiss fr fr !!

do you think you can do a short writing for either aemond or aegon and how they betray their mother and grandsire for the reader <3 ! sorry if it’s not detailed this is my first time requesting 😔💕

oh and if u can’t i completely understand bookie !!

Broken by War

- Summary: When his mother and grandsire declare you a threat to be rid off, Aemond betrays his family for you.

- Paring: niece!reader/Aemond Targaryen

- Note: The reader is the daughter of Rhaenyra and is bonded with Vermithor.

- Rating: Mature 16+ (just to be safe)

- Next Part: 2

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The pressure in the small council chamber was stifling, every member seated at the long, dark table focused on the map sprawled before them. A heavy silence blanketed the room as Dowager Queen Alicent’s voice echoed through the stone walls, calm but insistent.

"We must strike at Rook’s Rest," she said, her eyes glinting with determination. "Vermithor is a threat that grows with each passing day. We cannot allow her to roam free."

Otto Hightower, standing at her side, nodded in agreement. "Rhaenyra has grown too bold. Your niece wields too much power with that dragon. Vermithor must be neutralized, Aemond. Only Vhagar has the strength to bring the beast down, and only you have the will to do what must be done."

Aemond sat at the far end of the table, silent until now, his one violet eye fixated on the map. His jaw clenched as the voices of his mother and grandfather droned on, discussing tactics to trap her. You. The only person he had loved, the one who haunted his dreams and memories of youth. 

The very mention of your name, though unsaid, sent a ripple of heat through his chest. His gaze shifted from the map to Alicent, then to Otto, as they spoke of you and Vermithor as mere obstacles—just another enemy to be destroyed. 

But you were not a mere enemy. You were his niece, the daughter of Rhaenyra, and the girl who had once shared moments of innocent laughter with him. Before the war, before the bloodshed, before the divide of loyalties had driven them to opposite sides of this cursed Dance. How could they expect him to harm you?

A sharp crack split the air. The sound of his fists slamming against the table reverberated through the chamber, startling everyone into silence. Alicent and Otto turned, eyes wide, as Aemond rose from his seat, his face a mask of anger and resolve.

“I will not harm her.” His voice was low, dangerous, shaking with barely contained fury. “I will not harm my niece.”

“Aemond,” Alicent said softly, her brow furrowing as she reached out a hand as if to calm him. “She is a threat. You must understand—”

“No,” Aemond snapped, cutting her off. His gaze burned as he turned on them. “You expect me to kill her? To kill the one person I have loved since we were children? Vermithor is no more a threat than Vhagar is. And Y/N—she is not the enemy you make her out to be.”

Otto’s face remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something dark in his eyes. “She rides a dragon that is an old menace. Rhaenyra and her supporters will stop at nothing to see the end of this war, even if it means your death. You know this, Aemond. Only you can put an end to this before she burns the realm to ash.”

Aemond’s gaze flicked back to the map, the cold stone beneath his hands, and then to the faces of those who had shaped his life, who had molded him into a weapon. But not for this. Not against you. His chest heaved with barely contained emotion as the weight of everything pressed down on him—his duty, his family, his love for you.

Slowly, he shook his head, his voice low but firm. “No. I will not do it.”

“Aemond,” Alicent’s voice sharpened, desperation edging into it. “Where are you going?”

Aemond had already turned, his long coat sweeping the floor as he strode toward the door, each step heavy with purpose. He didn’t look back as he answered, the words cutting through the air like a blade. “I am going to Dragonstone. I will kneel before Y/N and Rhaenyra. I will beg for their forgiveness. For everything. For Lucerys.”

There was a stunned silence in the room as the weight of his words settled. Otto’s voice cut through the quiet, sharp as steel. “They will kill you the moment you set foot on Dragonstone, Aemond.”

Aemond paused at the door, his hand on the cold iron handle, and turned to face them. His eye gleamed with a fierceness that made Alicent flinch. “Then let them. I would rather die at her hand than live knowing I betrayed her.”

He left without another word, his footsteps echoing through the stone corridors, each one bringing him closer to you and the fate he had chosen. The weight of his family’s expectations, of the crown’s demands, fell away with each step. In its place, only one thing remained—his love for you and the need to right the wrongs that had torn them apart.

As he mounted Vhagar, he knew there was no turning back. His path was set, and for once, it was a path he chose for himself.

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Pretense

Synopsis: An afternoon of pretense that makes Ser Aemond question all that he believes and the possibility of him wanting more than what his station is fit for. Warnings: None (yet), Aemond and Reader becoming closer, infatuation, Jealousy, Aemond Discovering Emotions, Fluff, Fake-Marriage PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART A/N: I was giggling and kicking my feet the entire time writing this

“Sister, you’re absolutely flushed! Was lord Arthur here?” Your brother asked with a teasing grin, making you scowl at him as he sat across from you. As always, you were in the gardens of the summer palace with your sworn protector watching over your day-to-day activities, minus a second knight, much to Aemond’s relief. “Oh, shut up!” You muttered, looking upon your lap and bringing your clammed, cold hands up to your cheeks, attesting how heated they indeed were. “I’ve never seen you like this,” Your brother grinned as he poured himself a cup of tea and refiled your own cup as well. You grumbled and rolled your eyes as you urged your face to be rid of the flush that spread throughout. 

Aemond gritted his jaw. Not only did he have to suffer watching as Lord Arthur tried to engage with you throughout the whole of the morning— and you utterly besotted by every little thing he did. Now, he had to hear the recollection of events as your brother had joined you in the gardens, offering no reprieve for your knight, who was already growing tired of the thought of Lord Arthur. “Do you think he will be the one you shall choose?” You choked on your tea, and Aemond’s gaze turned lethal at your brother’s question. 

“Gods, brother— I barely know him!” You exclaimed, trying to find your napkin, but it had fallen from your lap; luckily, your knight was quick to retrieve his handkerchief and offered it to you. “Thank you, Ser Aemond.” You say and dabbed your lips. “Seriously, brother, enough with such subjects.” You say, and Aemond silently agrees as he returns to his post behind you. “You must think of your betrothal soon�� you are of age, sister. Father and I are drowning in a sea of parchment, and as much as I want you to stay in our home and care, I would very much like the countless scrolls addressed to me by the eligible bachelors of the realm cease! Just earlier, I was rudely woken before the first light with a scroll marked ‘urgent,’ but it was simply a proposal for your hand!” 

You shook your head. “Why are you pressuring me into a betrothal and marriage when you yourself are not burdened by such matters? Should you not be married first? You are, after all, older than me and are set to be the next king,” You raised a brow, and your brother failed to find a response to your query, simply changing the subject altogether. “So, are you ready for the end of the summer ball?” You bit your lip to hinder your laugh at your brother’s tactic to change the subject. 

“Not quite— Theodore had accidentally ruined my gown,” You pouted, wholly dismayed by your pet cat who had used your dress as his own scratching post. “I’ve sent a raven home to ask the maids to send another, but I do not think it would come in time,” You sighed, troubled as to what to wear for the ball that would take place in two days' time. “Then go to town and have another made,” Your brother shrugged as he finished his tea. You furrowed your brows, “You would let me leave the castle?” You questioned in surprise. “As long as you bring your guards and do not run off again to god knows where.” Your lips parted, uncertain if your brother was being serious. “Truly? Do you mean it?” You questioned as he stood. “Yes, we need you looking your best for Lord Arthur, lest he becomes uninterested and leaves you to be a spinster.” He teased and quickly placed a chaste kiss on your temple before running off before you could retaliate at his jest. 

“Your hood, princess,” Aemond said, tugging at the hem of your cover to conceal your face. “Do not fret so much, Ser Aemond. All of this disguise makes them more suspicious,” You say as you walk along the town with your knight by your side. Aemond disagreed, but he stayed silent; he turned behind the two of you to ensure the other knights were still in tow and the other guards he ordered to patrol throughout the town were by their post. 

“Flowers for the lady?” A florist called at Ser Aemond by the side of the alley, urging him to take one of her bouquets. Aemond ignored the call, but you were distracted by the pretty flowers. “Ooh…” You trailed, bemused by the colorful display, burying your nose into a bouquet of lilacs. Aemond waited tensely as you made conversation with the vendor, hoping you would not be recognized. “Princess—“ He whispered, tugging at your arm as he saw the woman starting to realize who you were. “Enough formalities… would not want them to grow suspicious, would you not, Aemond?” You whispered as you turned to your knight, addressing him without formal titles for the first time. Aemond licked his lips, an odd sensation spreading through his body as you addressed him solely by his name. 

“Such a pretty girl you are… it’s a shame your husband would not buy you flowers,” The vendor suddenly sighed, rendering Aemond still in his spot. He expected you to deny such claims, but you only laughed at the vendor’s tactic of trying to sell her flowers through guilt. “It truly is a pity… before, when we were courting, he would just send me flowers without me even asking for them!  He would send them so often and in such large quantities that it turned my father’s home into a garden; even bees began to swarm it! Now, not even nagging or arm pulling would urge him to pick up a simple wildflower off the street!” You laughed, along with the woman who readily brought your pretense. Aemond just stood there, his cheeks flushed, and he felt his erratic pulse at the tip of his ears. “What happened to you, husband? Has marriage with me truly changed you?” You asked with a smile, your eyes urging him to join in your deception. 

“Come now, wife, we must get going,” He said and handed the vendor a few coins along with the bouquet he observed you liked the most and hastily took your arm to drag you to the seamstress. You laughed and yelled a quick ‘thank you’ to the woman who seemed happy enough that her most pricey bouquet was bought by what she believed were husband and wife. “That was fun,” You laughed at your pretend husband, who was too rigid as he walked by your side. “You could have been discovered, princess! What were you thinking?” He said, exasperated. You sighed and shook your head, taking the bouquet from his hand, letting your fingers brush, and you felt how cold his touch was. “What would get me discovered is your persistence in calling me princess. Come now, Ser Aemond, address me by my name, or have you forgotten it already?” You teased, but Aemond did not find the matter amusing at all— if anything, this visit to the town had made his already tense manner more austere. 

“Fine, keep calling me princess and have them discover I’m here— create a commotion and arouse more dang—“ Aemond sighed and finally uttered your name, unchained by any title. You smiled triumphantly up at him, but only an uncomfortable expression could be seen on his face as his stomach was in a knot. “You’re starting to offend me now. Am I that disagreeable that you could not even pretend that I am your wife for the afternoon?” You asked as you linked your arm with his. Aemond swallowed thickly at the question you proposed, when he did not answer because he his nerves and emotions that he always tried to conceal were starting to get the best of him, you felt dread pool in your gut. 

You stayed silent until you reached the seamstress’ shop, finally letting go of your knight’s arm. You talked with the woman who ran the shop, who as well did not know your true identity. Aemond stood by the door as you began to be fitted for your gown. “Sir, you need not stand by the door. Come, sit and have a cup as you wait for your wife,” An elderly man approached, ushering Aemond onto a seat, and he began to question if you two truly did look like husband and wife because the smallfolk readily believed and assumed such notions. 

“How lucky you are that your husband joins you with such errands; I could not even get my husband to accompany me to a simple walk along the town square!” The seamstress laughed as she measured the length of your arm. You laughed, turning to Ser Aemond with a teasing glint in your eyes as they were completely oblivious to who you were, too distracted with what they assumed to be a couple completely enthralled and devoted to one another. “Hm… it truly is rare to find such a man,” You smiled and returned to face the mirror, Ser Aemond shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he felt his heart flutter further. “Here you are, lad,” the old man offered him tea and sat next to Aemond. 

“So, how long have you two been married?” He questioned casually, trying to converse with a man who never enjoyed such things. “A—a year,” He said stiffly, sipping the hot liquid, his eye going to you, who he knew listened to the conversation even if your gaze was focused upon the fabric selection you were presented with. “Quite new— how long did you two court?” Aemond was asked, and his hold on the cup tightened as he could not dismiss the prying old man, for you will surely scold him. “Five years,” He muttered and saw the shock on the stranger’s face for the long courtship. “Her… her father had disapproved of the match— it took time to convince him.” 

“And convinced he was,” you interjected, making the two men turn to you. The old man smiled, “Lucky lad you are, such a comely wife who’s ready to defy her father’s wants— you rarely see that now. Girls are too afraid to go against their father’s order and have themselves disowned.” The man sighed, and Aemond stilled as you approached. “Better to have love and be destitute than be miserable with a dowry,” You shrugged. “What color do you think, husband? The pink or the cream?” Aemond licked his lips as you and the man expectantly looked at him, waiting for his response. “The cream, wife,” He answered, urging himself not to stutter as he was finding it harder to breathe with each moment of your pretense. “Very well, if my husband says to pick the cream, then I shall wear a cream-colored gown,” You smiled further and returned to the seamstress, giving her the preferred fabric of Ser Aemond. 

When it was time to settle the payment, Aemond stood beside you by the counter. “Could it be finished by the morning after next? We could pay more,” You say, and the seamstress eagerly nodded. “Of course, and what name should we place when it is collected?” She questioned, making Ser Aemond nervous, for he himself could not think of a pretend name. “Seraphina,” You pretended, and Aemond hindered his confusion to show how effortlessly you thought of a name. 

When you exited the shop, Aemond could not restrain himself to ask the question in his mind. “Where did that name come from?” He questioned, confusing you for a moment. “Seraphina?” You asked as you two walked arm in arm to the outskirts of town where the royal wheelhouse waited. Ameond nodded, and you shrugged, “I’ve read it from a book before, and truthfully, that is the name I would want for my daughter if I ever have one,” You say, taking another whiff of the bouquet Ser Aemond bought for you. “Our daughter, you mean?” He asked, gathering the courage to join you in your pretense fully. Your eyes widened, and a laugh escaped your lips as you tore away your knight’s armor— a rare grin on his thin lips that made your heart beat faster. “Yes, of course,” You laughed, still keeping up with the charade that was wholly easy to do.

When the ball commenced, Aemond was no longer glued by your side but rather at his true place, which was by the distance— a mere knight guarding his princess. He stood by a pillar a few yards away from you, but he could still hear your voice, listening to your conversations. “Look, Lord Arthur is to approach— sister, your cheeks are already blushing!” Your brother laughed, making you roll your eyes and pinch his side. In truth, a blush no longer crept up to your cheeks, not even when Lord Arthur invited you to dance or when he placed a kiss on your knuckles. 

Aemond stood on his post with his jaw gritted tightly, and his hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. The lord pulled you flush to him, and the song began. He watched you dance around with the lord with the gown he had helped pick and with the flowers he bought for you, adoring your hair— his mind straying to the afternoon where you and he were husband and wife to sedate his mind and preoccupy him from the truth that a mere knight like him would never deserve a princess. 

Taglist: @anukulee @ladyriverasafespace @rebeccawinters @gayfiretruck @bellarkeselection @eraenaa

[writingsofwesteros]

Could you do a fic with viserys being like obsessed with his second wife after aemma and they have like dozens of kids pls?

AN: Hi, i hope you like it x

“Is the heir to the throne bothering you, Tyland?” Viserys whispered from his seat at the top of the table. The sight at the other end had amusement on many faces in the room as the little four year old climbed in the chair; already reaching for his favourite toy, which unfortunately for Tyland was the ball he was a little too attached with. “No..no, of course not, your grace.” The worried Lord whispered out as the young babe only reached for the ball again and this time was able to keep a hold of it. Viserys could only smile with complete warmth as his cup was filled. Rhaenyra smiled down at her father as she fought against the giggle that threatened to escape her at her brother’s antics.

Viserys’ gaze softened as he observed his children, the future of the realm, and he felt a rare moment of peace amidst the chaos of rulership. “Perhaps,” Viserys mused, his voice carrying the hint of a chuckle, “young Aegon is preparing for his future duties.” Aegon only clapped his hands at the words coming from his father. Tyland managed a nervous smile as he rested back into the chair; allowing the young Prince to keep his prize.

“My queen –.” The voice of a king’s guard moved into the room as the large, wooden doors fell open. Viserys’ smile widened completely as he slowly sat up straighter. The mere sight of his wife had happiness radiating from him. The red of his house hugged her curves as she gracefully stepped into the room. The Queen’s eyes scanned the room, pausing briefly on each familiar face, before settling on her husband. A soft, knowing smile played on her lips as she made her way towards the head of the table. The room seemed to light up with her arrival, in Viserys’ eyes that was as the murmurs of the Lords present quieted in respect.

“My love,” Viserys greeted her with a warmth that many had suspected would never reach his eyes again after the loss of his first wife. Still, it was clear to see as he rose to his feet. “You grace us with your presence.” She inclined her head slightly, her smile never wavering. “I could not resist joining my family this morning.” Aegon, momentarily distracted from his prized ball, looked up at his mother with a gleeful exclamation. “Mother!” Rhaenyra moved to greet her stepmother as well; her previous amusement giving way to genuine affection. It warmed Viserys’ heart once more to see such an interaction; he had worried about his daughter’s reaction to a new wife for her father.

Alas, there was no worry to be needed as his daughter enjoyed the presence of his Queen nearly as much as he did. She gently cupped Rhaenyra’s cheek and lent in to press a soft kiss to her cheek in greeting. “It seems I’ve missed some excitement already,” she remarked, subtly looking towards Tyland, who still looked somewhat flustered. Viserys chuckled. “Just a small lesson in patience for Lord Tyland.” The King looked back towards the struggling prince as he fought to stand. The queen could only giggle; her hand moving towards the small bump of hers that seemed to be growing each day before she gracefully stepped towards her young son. His hands reached out eagerly towards her.

She gently brushed Aegon’s cheek. “Good morning, my little sun,” she said softly, eyes full of warmth and love. Aegon giggled, clutching his ball tightly with one hand whilst the other found its way into his mother’s grasp. Viserys watched the tender exchange with his heart full. His eyes moving towards his wife’s bump to his children. Rhaenyra stood nearby; her smile warm as she observed the scene. Moments like these were her favourite as titles and responsibilities melted away. The Queen rose, lifting Aegon into her arms with practised ease. “I shall take this little one to his lessons now. I do believe you have had too much fun so early.”

Aegon pouted slightly but clung to his mother, understanding his playtime was over for the moment. “But mother…” He began, his protests trailing off as he saw the gentle but firm look in her eyes. Viserys chuckled softly. “Listen to your mother, Aegon. She knows what is best.” The King had made his way back to the seat whilst his eyes had never left her. The Queen ducked her head; a soft pink coming over her cheeks as she shifted Aegon more comfortably on her hip. Rhaenyra stepped forward, brushing a stray lock of hair from Aegon’s forehead. “I’ll come visit you soon.” The Princess promised much to the little boy’s delight. 

“You would like to see your brother and sister, hmm?” She whispered; pressing a kiss to Aegon’s head before looking over her shoulder once more as the doors to the council room fell shut. His small arms wrapped around her neck as he nodded with enthusiasm, his early reluctance now completely forgotten about.

~

“I love you,” Viserys whispered into her hair; their naked bodies glowing in the aftermath of love as the covers slowly fell from their bodies. She only nestled closer to him as a soft smile played on her lips. “I love you, my King,” she murmured back, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around them. Viserys gently tilted her chin up, his eyes meeting hers with complete tenderness. “You give me the courage to face each day. Your love…your strength.” His words had her reaching to stroke his cheek as she gently shushed him. “You are stronger than you know.” The Queen whispered as she leaned in; brushing their noses together.

His hand gently reached for her soft bump; gently stroking whilst the Queen could only look down and smile. “I think we may have all the children we need, hmm?” She teased, which only caused the King to chuckle and shake his head. “No..not nearly enough.” He replied, his voice filled with affection. “Each one is a blessing.” 

His hand slowly moved between her thighs now, cupping her sweet, wet pussy. “And you seem to enjoy the process, hmm?” A smirk tugged on his lips as his thumb began to brush over her pretty, sensitive clit. The night was far from over as his desire only built.

[honeylations]

YU JIMIN x FEM!READER

Prompt: You’ve dreamt of dating a cool, hot, sexy vampire, but why did the world decide to give you the biggest loser vampire?

Warnings/Notes: g!p Vampire Jimin, crack, eventual smut, loser Jimin, human reader, mommy kink, subby Jimin

It was 7am in the morning when you woke up to your alarm blaring in your ears, encouraging you to open your tired eyes. Sitting up, you saw your vampire girlfriend sitting cross legged by the edge while staring at you with a pout.

Right, you were angry at her for the stunt she pulled yesterday.

She baked you cookies as a reward for getting through your exams but your roommate, Huh Yunjin, ate it all like the fatass she was. Yunjin didn’t know they were for you but it didn’t stop the anger boiling within Jimin as she dragged your red headed friend to the backyard of the house and tied her to a tree with debris sitting beneath her feet.

Jimin said that in the vampire realm, anyone who stole another’s belongings were to be punished by being burnt alive.

You remember returning home that day from a lecture the moment Jimin struck the match, screaming at the top of your lungs for her to stop whatever she was starting.

Then remembering her sulking face and how she cleaned up her mess with pure sadness and fear after being scolded by you.

You haven’t acknowledged her presence since and Jimin has been trying to do everything she can to have you talk to her again.

“Good morning love!” Jimin beamed and puckering her lips for her good morning kiss but you stood up from the bed, completely ignoring her so you can wash up in the bathroom.

The vampire flopped face first into the bed and whined.

Yunjin heard the commotion and peeped through the door with crossed arms. “She’s still mad at you?”

“Yes and it’s all your fault!” Jimin’s loud voice was muffled from the mattress she was squishing her face in.

Yunjin caught the words though. “How was I supposed to know they were for your girlfriend?! How about put a note next time!”

“How about have some common human decency and ask before shoving everything in your mouth?! You mortals are dumber than rats!” Jimin finally sat up.

“Your cookies were shit anyways!”

“Shitty cookies that you entirely ate, FATASS!”

You appeared from the bathroom with frustration. “SHUT UP BOTH OF YOU!”

Both girls immediately shut their mouths, but Jimin continued on to flop her face back into the mattress to cry like a dying whale.

“Oh god, Jimin Unnie don’t cry” Yunjin sighed.

“Go sit in the corner Jimin. And think about what you did yesterday and why it was wrong for you to even try and burn Yunjin alive” You ordered, arms crossed over your chest.

Jimin shuffled out of the bed and obeyed. She dragged herself to the corner of your shared bedroom and sat down, leaning her forehead against the wall.

“And stay there until I say so”

“Yes ma’am” Jimin managed to squeak out.

The vampire pouted and played with her fingers to pass the time while you went out to your full day lecture on campus with Yunjin.

As you two walked down the halls, Yunjin turned to look at you. “Y/n, I know it was a scary situation but Jimin Unnie means well. She already apologised…well I mean because you forced her to but anyways, I forgive her and you can stop being mad at her now”

“I’m not letting it slide that easy Jen. She needs to reflect on her behaviour”

“Maybe you’re being a bit too harsh on her”

“You want to be sitting in the corner with her then?”

“I shall close my mouth and never speak again”

Yunjin’s words did echo in your mind throughout the day, making you reconsider the way you were treating your girlfriend at the moment.

You had to remind yourself that all Jimin wanted was to make you cookies but she let anger take over her decisions in the wrong way.

The thought got you dozing off during lectures, at lunch, and even as you were walking out of the campus with Yunjin still by your side.

“Stopped being mad at Jimin Unnie yet?”

You groaned into your palms. “I’m a horrible girlfriend”

“What? Hey no! What made you even come to that conclusion. Jimin Unnie thinks you put the stars in the sky!”

“I should’ve just talked it out with her instead of giving her the cold shoulder. She must think I hate her or something”

Yunjin grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you around. “Y/n please shut up. You managed to pull a vampire that wanted to kill every human she saw in the first place. Now all that vampire wants is to be by your side forever to love and protect you! I’m damn jealous about your wattpad life right now”

“I’m gonna ignore the wattpad thing you said”

“Apart from almost burning me alive, Jimin Unnie is one hell of a loser too. She’d do anything to make you happy even if it meant jumping off a cliff”

“Don’t say stuff like that around her please, she’ll literally do it” you face palmed after a memory flashed in your mind of Jimin almost throwing herself in front of a train just to prove she loved you.

“Now why don’t we put the past behind us and get your girlfriend bags of blood as an apology? I’m pretty sure she’d be hungry by now. You left her in the corner since this morning”

You froze on the spot and looked up at Yunjin wide eyed. It didn’t take a couple seconds for the red head’s eyes to match yours before you both started sprinting back to the house.

“We’re so dumb!”

Barging into the front door, you made your way upstairs to your bedroom and saw your girlfriend still sitting in the exact same position from when you left her. Setting your bag to the side, you hugged her from behind and took in a big whiff of her scent.

“Oh my baby, I’m so sorry for leaving you here”

Jimin turned around and buried her face into your chest. “Are you still angry at me?”

“No not anymore baby” you cooed, comfortably threading your fingers through her black locks.

“Are we going to be okay?”

You kissed her head. “Absolutely. Always”

“Do you still love me?”

“Yes of course! I’ve never stopped loving you, Jimin-ah”

You cupped your girlfriend’s face and repeatedly kissed all over it until she was covered in lipstick marks. Then you led her to cuddle with you in bed, letting her rest her entire body on top of yours.

She snuggled her head into your neck. “I’m still a little sad about the cookies, my love”

“I know, I’m sorry Yunjin ate them. Thank you for making it though”

“You studied so hard for the exams…I wanted to impress you”

Your heart was aching. How could you have yelled at your dork?

“Let me make it up to you, okay?”

Jimin was about to question you but you had already moved her to lay on the bed while you straddled her lap.

“Yunjin can you go buy some blood bags for Jimin?!” You yelled loud enough for your roommate to hear.

“On it! Be back in a bit!” Yunjin quickly answered from her own room, hearing her footsteps fade until she shut the front door and fully left the house.

“That should buy us enough time—“

A notification rung from your phone. You took a glance at the Lock Screen and saw a message from Yunjin which got you a bit confused until you read what she had sent.

[Yunjinnie 🐍: I already know where this is going. Enjoy that 7 inch vampire sausage]

“Fucking sick ass” you muttered, not noticing your girlfriend was looking at your phone too.

“Tell her I’m 7 and a half inches, babe. Not just 7”

You shook your head and softly kissed her. “Don’t worry about Yunjin, she’s a shit head”

“I’ve already established that when she ate your cookies”

Your girlfriend’s frown got you chuckling. “You’re still on about that? Don’t worry, we’ll bake them together someday. But for now, just sit back and relax. Can you do that for me?”

“Mhm yes ma’am”

You pulled your girlfriend pants and boxers slightly down just so you can whip out her cock and stroke it while staring into your girlfriend’s eyes. “Good?”

“M-Mhm…” Jimin hummed.

She bit on her bottom lip, clawing at the sheets when you sped up your hand fisted around her dick. “N-Not enough…can I please have it inside you, Y/nie? Please…” Jimin’s words came out breathlessly, trying her absolute best to look into your eyes but the pleasurable feeling was making it difficult.

“Such a good girl for saying please” you smirked that got Jimin dizzy.

“Please…I don’t wanna cum unless it’s inside you m-mommy”

You were taken back from the nickname even though your hand was still jerking her off crazily. God, your vampire really was a loser.

Instead of answering, you sloppily made out with the vampire, only breaking apart so you can strip yourself out of your clothes.

In a blink you were hovering your wet opening above Jimin’s hard cock, feeling like you were being torn in half when you sat on the tip. The pain gradually got worse when you were fully seated, head resting on Jimin’s chest whereas your hands were holding onto her shoulders for dear life.

“Ah w-what the fuck? H-Hurts so much” you sniffled as Jimin rubbed your back.

“It’s been so long since we made love, Y/n-ie. Don’t rush yourself okay?”

“I liked it when you called me mommy” you managed to giggle through the pain.

“Take your time mommy”

Jimin was so patient with you just sitting on her dick for a few minutes so your pussy could accomodate her size. It felt like you were having sex for the first time. Your girlfriend continued to kiss your neck even when you finally had the energy to move up and then sliding back down with an electrifying pleasure coursing through your body.

“O-Oh…Jimin you feel so good inside me”

“I wanna make mommy feel good”

“You are baby. Being a good girl for mommy” you gasped with an arched back.

Jimin took this as an advantage to suck on your tits like she’s been starved. Well she technically did kind of starve today when you made her sit in that corner and completely forgot about her.

“Fuck…mommy…my love..Can I fuck you? Don’t want you to get tired”

Oh your loser vampire girlfriend was such a gentlewoman. Who were you to say no?

Jimin leaned back with her feet planted flat on the bed so she could thrust her hips up in a fast motion that got you bouncing. Your moving tits got Jimin lost in a trance and she couldn’t help on sucking them again.

She was watching you throw your head back in pure bliss, mouth dropped open releasing Jimin’s favourite sounds. “Can I cum inside mommy please?”

“Y-Yes please baby. I want it all—Oh shit!”

Jimin was literally jack hammering inside you with that crazy vampire stamina she had. The pleasure was so overwhelming that you didn’t catch the way your girlfriend’s eyes began to turn red and were fixated on your exposed hickey-covered neck.

Her mouth began to open and her fangs were presented.

“M-Mommy…I-I really need your blood. C-Can I bite? I’ll make it better afterwards, I promise”

Hearing Jimin beg sent you over the edge. You held one hand on her nape and pushed her face into your neck. “Fuck yes! Bite mommy, baby. Drink my blood and fuck my pussy like a good girl!”

Jimin growled and didn’t need to be told twice in sinking her teeth into your neck. She moaned along with you as your blood flowed into her mouth deliciously. You clenched around her twitching cock and dug your nails into her shoulders when the hot ropes of cum filled you up.

You were creaming all over dick that it rained down her pelvis.

Your girlfriend pulled away as the orgasm died down, licking up the mess on your neck and finishing it off with a gentle kiss on the fang marks.

You fell limp into her body to catch your breath and Jimin’s hand was caressing your back again. “Are you okay, my love?”

“Better than okay, Jiminie…”

“Did it feel good?”

“The best, baby”

“Yay”

You pulled back and looked at her face in disbelief. “Yay?”

Jimin looked down sheepishly. “I’m glad I made you feel good, baby. I love you”

“Yunjin was right. You’re a loser stuck in a hot vampire body”

The vampire’s eyes went into puppy mode at your statement. “Am I your loser at least?”

“My one and only loser” you laughed and leaned in to claim her lips once again, getting a slight taste of your blood.

*Knock Knock*

“Heyyyy sorry to be like…interrupting, but I got the blood bags. I’m assuming you’re not hungry anymore Jimin Unnie” Yunjin spoke from outside the room, her voice slightly muffled.

Even with the door blocking you from seeing Yunjin, you can already see the smirk plastered on her stupid face.

“Nope”

“Rightio. They’ll be in the fridge. Hope you take that pill Y/n! You two are too young to be parents”

“Jimin is 600 years old”

“Yeah I’m 600 years old”

“And even if we did become parents, we’d be the best parents ever”

“Yeah, the best parents ever!”

“Yeah I didn’t ask. I’m not letting my best friend become a mom while she can barely pay her rent”

“oh fuck off Yunjin!” You screamed while Yunjin shrugged and indeed fuck off to her room.

[zaldritzosrose]

Only Ever Yours (Aegon x Wife!Reader)

Summary: Aegon saw marriage as a duty, a weight to bear and nothing more. You were a good wife; he would never fault you that. But he refused to believe he felt nothing more for you. Unfortunately for him, his uncle knew better. Daemon was going to get him to admit it, one way or another.

TW: MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), fingering, Daemon thinking he's helping, flirting, innuendo, profanity.

Words: 4319

Thank you to @legitalicat for betaing this! 💚

Also, there is some vague references to this being within the Dance timeline but nothing concrete so imagine it as you will!

And please thank my dearest Nonnie for the request! Enjoy!

Name days were always a grand affair for the royal family and having Jacaerys turn six and ten – that was the grandest they had hosted in a while. You sat beside your husband, Aegon, between him and his uncle Daemon. Lords and ladies from all over the realm had come to celebrate the young prince’s coming of age and there was nothing short of revelry to be had.

Aegon was preoccupied with his wine, even large events like this where appearances were everything did not stem his dependency on his cups. Though you could not blame him, listening to lord after lord drivel on about something or another would likely drive you down the same path if you had a liking for wine.

What you did wish to do, however, was dance. The minstrels played nothing but upbeat songs to please the celebrated prince and the dance floor was already filling. You turned to Aegon; a hand placed on his arm to get his attention.

“Could we dance, husband?” you asked softly, the slightest sound of hope in your tone.

But what you got was a shake of his head, nothing more.

Aegon had never been unkind to you, but he had always seemed disenchanted with your marriage. Uninterested in anything more than his duty. He kept his eyes trained on his cup before him, not noticing the look of disappointment on your face. The flush of rejection on your cheeks as you turned away from him and picked at the food on your plate.

But Daemon noticed.

He noticed the glisten of tears in your eyes, the slight tremble of your lower lip as you tried to keep yourself calm. And he felt a pang of sympathy. You had been offered as a politically advantageous marriage for Aegon. Binding your house and the Targaryens solely for power. And it seemed his nephew had yet to look past his duty to the woman beneath it.

“My lady?” Daemon touched your arm gently, bringing your attention over to your uncle by marriage now.

“My prince,” you hurried to wipe your eyes, trying your best to hide your emotions.

Daemon only offered you a smile, glancing around you and seeing Aegon glancing over to the pair of you.

“A lady as pretty as you should have no need to cry, nor be left alone with no dance partner,” Daemon said softly, nudging your arm and coaxing a smile to your lips.

“It is alright, my prince, really. I am more than content to…”

Daemon interrupted you with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

“No, my sweet lady, you need to be more than content.” Daemon stood, offering his hand to you with a smirk.

With a final glance to Aegon, who was doing nothing but glaring into the cup before him, you accepted.

“Quite the saviour you are, my prince,” you giggled, as Daemon led you down the steps and to the dance floor below.

The music had turned upbeat, and Daemon was quick to put you both into position. He led you with a smile, putting all his effort to spinning you about the dance floor and bringing smiles and laughter to your lips.

Aegon watched. At first, he told himself he did not care. You wanted to dance, and you were dancing. You were happy and he did not have to involve himself. But when the song ended and Daemon did not let you go, he began to watch more closely.

The next song was slower and when you did not pull away from his uncle, Aegon sat up a little straighter and followed your every move. The closeness between your and Daemon’s bodies, how you blushed a little when Daemon leaned down to whisper something in your ear.

Aegon’s jaw tightened, but he tried to will away the emotions stirring within. Jealousy. You were his wife; you should be at his side. But he knew, deep down, that was not what bothered him. It was the joy on your face. Joy that was not caused by him.

The second song ended, and Daemon leaned down a little, pressing a kiss to your hand.

“Thank you for the dance, my sweet lady,” he smirked, offering you a wink that brought out yet another giggle.

Aegon could not hear what he said, but he could see the smile, the movement of your shoulders that told him you were giggling, the flush on your cheeks from the dance and dare he say…from Daemon. He should not feel jealous, you were his duty, a marriage he had never asked for.

So why did he feel it? Why did his stomach feel twisted and his blood feel like it was boiling in his veins? The scrape of his chair could be heard over the music as Aegon descended the steps and stormed his way through the crowd to you and Daemon.

“Aegon?” you asked, but Aegon’s focus was solely on Daemon.

But his uncle only smiled, inclining his head and retreating into the crowd. His smile never left him, even after his back turned on the young couple.

What neither knew, was Daemon had watched them, since the day they had been betrothed. You had done everything to try and enamour yourself to Aegon, to try and present yourself as a good prospect. But Aegon had simply tolerated your presence. Acted politely from his mother’s instructions, courted you. Took you on walks around the gardens, introduced to his dragon even.

But he never seemed to enjoy it. It was as though marriage was simply a burden. Daemon watched you retreat into yourself, watched you stop vying quite so hard for Aegon’s attentions. He watched as your usual happy demeanour seemed to waver.

It only became more obvious when you were married. The kiss shared between the pair of you in the Sept was tense and since then, nothing had improved.

So, Daemon had took it upon himself to fix it. To see you, someone who had been dragged into this family through no choice of her own, to a husband who did not want her. He knew the one way to make Aegon see, was to force him to admit how he felt for you.

And tonight was only the beginning.

The name day feast gnawed at Aegon’s mind, only a week had passed. Jealousy meant nothing, surely. It could not possibly mean he felt anything deep for you. No, he told himself. It could not possibly be true.

Aegon was sat by the window, having just finished his breakfast when he heard you enter. It was rare for the two of you to spend the mornings together, Aegon preferring lazier mornings whereas you always took breakfast with his mother and sister.

“Good morning, husband,” you said softly, slipping into the seat across from him.

Aegon gave you a tight smile, watching as you poured yourself a cup from the tea from the pot he had yet to touch. He was curious, however, as to why you were here.

“There is a family dinner tonight.” You said gently, sipping from your tea.

Now it made sense, there were few reasons you would willingly seek him out, he knew that without a doubt. Though even thinking that, made Aegon feel a pang of guilt he did not expect.

“And I assume my attendance is expected?”

The look you gave him was enough. He nodded. A family dinner meant all of the family would be in attendance. And he was not prepared to receive a telling off from his mother if he avoided it.

The rest of the morning was spent in silence, until you were called away for a walk with Helaena.

Aegon met you outside your chambers in time to walk to dinner, his face already showing he wished to be anywhere else. You did feel a little bad for him, now he was married most talk seemed to focus on that. Whether it was questions directed at you on your expected motherhood, or at Aegon at the need to ‘perform his duty’. You would sometimes wish you could tell him you would avoid dinner with him.

But you were not even sure he would want to avoid it with you.

He held his arm out to you, barely glancing at you as you took it and began to walk in step with him. It was not until you reached the dining hall that he even spared you a look. The deep green and black of your dress was not what he expected. Aegon sometimes wore Targaryen blacks or Hightower green depending on his mood. To see you wearing both stirred something within him he did not expect.

He led you down the dining table and to your seats, passing Daemon as you went. The smile the elder prince gave you did not go unnoticed.

“My lady, you truly are a sight to behold,” Daemon purred out to you as you passed and Aegon did not miss the faint flush in your cheeks.

“You flatter me, my prince,” you replied, your voice soft and breathy. You did not immediately notice how Aegon tensed at your side.

Aegon hurried you on, his other arm reaching round and letting his hand grip your arm. His jaw was set tight, and his eyes now solely focused on making it down to his seat. He was now practically dragging you along behind him. The moment he sat, he pulled the jug of wine towards him, taking a long drink as you looked at him in confusion.

Daemon however, smirked into his cup. It would not be long before Aegon would have to admit he felt something for you. And dinner tonight was simply another stone on that path.

Dinner passed on with little consequence. Conversation flowed on all sides of the table, and when dessert was served Daemon saw your eyes light up. He was close enough to your seat to lean over to talk.

“Do you have a sweet tooth, my lady?” Daemon asked, that mischievous smile back on his lips.

You laughed a little before answering.

“It is a weakness; I am ashamed to admit. My mother would have the desserts and sweets put on the highest shelves of our kitchens…” you realised you were rambling and stopped.

Daemon realised then that Aegon may never have even asked you about yourself. Was his nephew so apathetic to this marriage that he did not bother to know his own wife?

His thoughts were interrupted by a tray of sweet and honeyed cakes being placed between you. He soon saw your eyes flick down and your tongue dart out ever so slightly in anticipation. You were about to reach out when Daemon lifted a cake and offered it to you.

“A sweet cake, almost as sweet as you, my lady.”

The giggle you let out had Aegon turning his head to look at you. He realised he could not remember one moment he had made you laugh anywhere close to that. And that feeling in the pit of his stomach returned.

A sickening mix of guilt, anger and jealousy.

You had not expected the feast thrown for your own name day to be quite as lavish as Prince Jacaerys, but your mother-in-law Alicent had near demanded you be celebrated the same way the royal children were. You knew there was animosity between the two families, but you had luckily avoided the brunt of it.

There was a sense of déjà vu as you sat at the top table, Aegon at your right as you looked down to the crowd of nobles, including your family, that had come to celebrate you. The only group you waited on now was Daemon, Rhaenyra and the Princes. And when the doors opened to reveal them, Aegon could not stop the swell of anger inside him as your face lit up to the sight of Daemon.

Had he been so neglectful of you that the attention his uncle gave you was that important? Or worse, did you feel something for Daemon?

Aegon school his face to a cool look of indifference as each of them approached and gave their good wishes. Daemon, however, beckoned you down to him with a grin.

“I know you said you wished for nothing when Rhaenyra asked, but you deserve to be well treated,” he whispered, pulling a small velvet covered box from behind his back.

Your eyes went wide at the sight, even wider when it was opened. An intricate necklace, weaving your house sigil with that of House Targaryen, and little green gemstones for House Hightower. The three Houses you now belonged to.

“It is beautiful,” you sighed, tracing your fingers over the designs of the necklace.

Daemon gestured for you to turn, and you even moved your hair so he could place the necklace around your throat. The metal was cool against your already flushed skin. If you had looked up, you would have seen Aegon’s reddened cheeks and tight smile as he glared down at the both of you. Though you would not have understood his anger in its entirety. Why he found the way Daemon’s hands brushed at your neck as he clasped the necklace around. Why he found the gift itself an insult.

It was not known to many, but before their family drifted apart, Aegon and Daemon would frequent the same brothels. There was a chance they had even fucked the same whores. But there was one difference. Aegon would pay those he fucked in gold, Daemon however, would pay them a different way. He would bring presents for those he favoured, trinkets essentially. Not that he thought Daemon believed you a whore, but the implication and memory made him sick.

He could have move past it, ignored the twisted feeling in his gut. But when you raced back to him, a wide smile on your face and your hands still clutching the necklace, Aegon was ready to snap.

“Husband! Your uncle Daemon is so generous, is he not?” You almost squealed in excitement.

You were at his side, giving him no choice but to see the jewels that now hung around your neck. And he did not even both to force a smile to his lips.

“Oh yes, he is quite generous.” Aegon snapped back at you, no longer hiding his disdain.

Your eyes narrowed, you had seen Aegon upset before, but never like this.

“Is there a problem, husband?” You asked, your eyes stinging with tears of anger now.

But Aegon said nothing, gripping your arm and dragging you away from your own name day feast. He wove you through the crowds, ignoring the questions from his family as you passed them.

“What are you doing! Let go!” you tried to tug your arm from his grasp, but he ignored you.

Aegon was silent as he dragged you back to his chambers, Slamming the door behind him and rounding on you. But you spoke first.

“Aegon, what is wrong with you?” you were close to shouting, Aegon realised he had never heard you raise your voice.

“Wrong! What is wrong?” Aegon slammed his hand to the small table beside him, the wine cups and jug shaking with the impact.

“Daemon is what is wrong! Do you think I enjoy watching him fawn over you and…and watch you enjoy it!?”

So that was what it was all about. Aegon refused to show you care and attention as his wife, but gods forbid someone else dared to?

“Are you serious, Aegon? This is all because you are jealous?”

You did not know when you had closed the distance between the two of you, or when your hand had slapped against his chest. But the warmth of Aegon’s hand around your wrist brought you back to reality.

“Are you jealous?” your voice had gone softer, changing your tack to see if you could get through to him.

Aegon shoved you back, not looking as you stumbled a little over the hem of your gown. You could see the heave of his shoulders as he tried to calm himself. He did not know if he wanted to cry or scream. He hated how he felt. He hated being married, he hated…just all of it.

“Jealous? I would have to love you to feel jealous, would I not?” The words left him before he could control them.

Any anger you felt almost dissipated. You had never pretended to think your husband loved you, political marriages rarely went that way. But to hear it come directly from him?

It broke your heart.

“You are a cruel man, husband…”

Aegon could hear the pain in your voice, the heartbreak. And the wave of guilt that washed over him made him want to reach out, apologise. But he was sure you would reject him.

“Do you think I enjoy Daemon’s attentions because I desire him, is that it?”

He could feel you behind him, the soft scent of your perfume wafting towards him as you moved. Your hands on his back making him want to pull away. Aegon could not bring himself to answer with words, his breath leaving him in frustrated huffs.

“Because you are wrong.”

Aegon could feel his frustration simmering. His mind spinning as he tried to understand what he felt. Hearing you say you held no desire for Daemon should not make his lips almost curl to a smile. He felt…relieved to hear you say it. But when he did not speak, you continued.

“Do you wish for the truth, husband?”

Your hands shoved at his back, trying in vain to get him to look at you. Your frustration, desperation and pain fighting inside you. But he still refused to speak.

“The truth is the attention I want is yours.”

It was all you wanted. To have your husband look at you with even a sliver of affection. For there to be more in his eyes than contempt or boredom whenever you spent time with him. For him to want you as you wanted him.

Daemon’s attentions had only reminded you of how you should feel. Of how being wanted felt. How your heart should beat a little faster in their presence, how your stomach should flutter and your cheeks flush when they showed you any attention.

Everything you wanted from Aegon but had yet to receive.

But Aegon was barely listening. His own mind reeled, processing everything he felt towards you. Jealousy meant he cared, and the thought felt foreign in his mind. Because if he cared, if seeing another pay you any mind bothered him as much as it was, then he must feel something for you.

And to hear you say you wanted his attention; it sent a surge of something he did not expect. Love? Desire? Either way, it was new.

“Will you not even look at me now?” you asked, your hands still on his back, gentle as if taming a wild animal.

Aegon turned slowly, his eyes downcast. He took a few calming breaths before looking up at you. His eyes falling to the necklace. And you did not miss how his jaw clenched at the sight of it.

“Do you really like it that much?” he asked quietly, his finger reaching out to trace the silver chain.

He tried to ignore how your breath hitched a little when his fingers touch your skin instead of the necklace. He tried to ignore how soft your skin felt beneath his hand.

“Tis a gift, it would be rude to not wear it,” you said, watching how his eyes followed his finger as it traced higher, reaching the curve of your neck.

“Maybe…my husband could replace it with something of his own choosing?”

Aegon concentrated on the feel of you. How his heart raced a little as he felt your own pulse beneath his hand. His hand continued up, curling around the back of your neck and letting his thumb circle of your skin.

He had never been this close to you without the intent of performing his marital duties. Aegon had never willingly pursued any kind of physical intimacy with you outside of that. But he could not ignore how it made him feel.

“Would you like that, wife?” Aegon whispered, feeling the soft hairs at the nape of your neck.

You nodded, Aegon’s proximity was a lot to process. The slight roughness of his palm, the heat of his breath as he spoke, the smell of the wine on him. It was almost too much for you to handle.

Aegon could feel the flush of heat in your skin. The quickening of your pulse. His mind clouded now with the smell of your perfume and the softness of your skin. He could feel the desire trickling down his spine, through his veins and into his thickening length. He barely remembered if he had ever felt such need from simply touching you.

Your own hands tightened in the fabric of his tunic, instinctually pulling him closer. The tension between the two of you was thick.

There was barely an inch between you now. Aegon’s hand gripped the back of your neck, his nose brushing yours.

“Kiss me, Aegon…please…”

He did not hesitate, finally giving into the feelings he had tried to ignore. His kiss bruising and desperate, his free hand wrapping around your waist and crushing you to his chest. You were just as filled with need as he was, your own hands gripping the fabric of his tunic tight while trying to push the fabric from his body.

Aegon walked you back to the bed, only stopping when your knees hit the footboard. You fell back with a soft bounce, leaning up on your elbows to watch your husband with lust clouded eyes. You could see the movement of his throat as he swallowed thick, your gaze travelling down to where he unbuttoned his tunic and the now prominent arousal sitting heavy in his breeches.

“I have been a fool, wife…a fool to think I felt nothing for you.” Aegon grunted out the words, his eyes trailing over your body as he spoke.

His skin felt hot, whatever blood was in his veins had run down and now pulsed through his cock. Only now did he really look at you. See you for just how beautiful you were.

The words Daemon had spoken way back at dinner rung in his head. But he realised just now how true they were.

“You truly are a sight to behold,”

He could see the flush reach your skin, your chest heaving now at his words. Aegon tugged his tunic from his body, pulling his undershirt over his head with little ceremony. Your own hands unlaced your gown, sighing out as the corset lessened its strain on your body. Your hands were soon replaced by Aegon’s, standing you up and making quick work of the rest of your gown. His hands more gentle than they had ever been, with only the thin silk of your shift between him and your bare form.

With a soft touch, he had you back on the bed. Surprising you as he knelt between your thighs. He had never, in all the time you had been married to him, pleasured you in such a way. His focus had always solely been on duty and nothing more.

But the hunger that darkened his eyes had your heart racing and your core pulsing. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing your shift higher until your cunt was bared to him. Aegon felt his mouth water, the realisation that his own stupidity had denied you both such pleasures momentarily passing through him.

“Please, husband…” You pleaded, your hips lifting slightly in a desperate need to feel his touch.

And he wasted no more time. He could deal with his deeper feelings after, right now he wished only to hear you moan for him. His lips planted heated kisses to your inner thighs, trailing a path up one side and down to the other. But never quite where you wanted him.

“Aegon…!”

You could feel his smirk as your frustrated sigh turned to a breathy moan. His hands tightening around your thighs as he buried his face as far as he could get. His tongue tasting every inch of you and groaning at the flavour that coated it.

His eyes flickered up to watch you, your skin hot and flushed. Your hips grinding down onto his face as your moans reached a fever pitch. Aegon wanted nothing more than to commit those sounds to memory. To never forget just how sweet you tasted. You had never felt a pleasure like it, had never felt your husband lust for you as desperately as he did now.

“Mhmm,” your eyes rolled as you felt his groan reverberate through you.

“Almost as sweet as a honey cake, my love…” Aegon whispered into you, adding a single finger along with his tongue.

He could feel your peak approaching, your moans higher and higher in pitch. His own grunts of pleasure vibrating your body as the tight band within finally snapped. Aegon refused to stop as your slick coated his lips and chin, pushing you almost to the brink of overstimulation.

But he had one more thing he needed to ask you. He needed to know you felt as he did. That you felt the same emotions he had forced himself to bury for so long.

“Are you mine? Please…let me hear you say it…”

Your hands tightened in his silver waves as you rolled your hips against him, his tongue lapping lazily now at your cunt. Your heart and body filled with a heady mix of love and desire. The same emotions you now saw in your husband’s eyes.

“Only ever yours…”

Aegon/HOTD Taglist:

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @khaleesihel @legitalicat

@thenameswinter99 @anjelicawrites @sihtricsafin @arcielee

@sylasthegrim @aemondsbabe @itbmojojoejo @multyfangirl

@kaelatargaryen

If I have missed anyone, please let me know. If you wanted to be added to Aegon specific or general HOTD, also let me know!

[waterfae]

Kill My Lord Husband [Part 1]

Summary: Your father has decided to marry you off – and to a Blackwood no less! But you want nothing to do with the famously known Bloody Ben, not when your heart already belongs to another. Your solution? Kill your lord husband.

Pairings: Benjicot “Davos” Blackwood x Reader, Aeron Bracken x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence, adult language, slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, arranged marriage, house-neutral fem!reader, no use of Y/N, absolute nonsense, no beta

Word Count: 1.7+ K

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

|| General Masterlist || House of the Dragon Masterlist ||

“A marriage proposal has been accepted.”

With wide eyes, you looked up from your dinner plate and towards your father, “A marriage proposal?” Your voice shook slightly and your heart raced with anticipation. There was only one man you could think of at this moment who had any interest in marrying you – you in him – and the thought of that particular man made it feel as though your entire body was ascending up to the heavens. At long last, your hidden lover had gotten the courage to seek out your father and ask for your hand. You tried to contain your knowing smile as you took a sip from your cup and played off your excitement. You asked a follow up, though you arrogantly foresaw the answer, “And to whom, may I ask?”

“Benjicot Blackwood.”

You spit out your wine; confidence immediately deflated and your ascension halted as a great monstrosity reached out and pulled you back down into the depths of hell. That was not the name you expected to come from your father’s lips.

“Benjicot Blackwood?!” You sputtered while your handmaiden rushed forward to assist with the mess you made, “You choose for me to subjugate myself, my future, my happiness...to House Blackwood?” Panic set in, evident by the rising shrill and breathiness of your voice, “You can’t be serious?”

“What is wrong with the Blackwoods?” Your father asked, oblivious to the extremity of your anguish and continued to cut into his roasted duck, “They have long been our friends, a good family with good standing –” he paused to place a piece of the meat into his mouth, “You will be well taken care of.”

“That may be, but –” You attempted to interject, but were stopped with a casual wave of his fork.

“Benjicot Blackwood will be Lord of Raventree Hall once his father passes and you, its Lady.” He looked upon you with proud eyes, “Is that so bad a future?”

You stared at your father incredulously and tried to hold his gaze, but were unable to do so. Not when he was looking at you with such delight on his features, as if he had just done something exceptional rather than damning. It was far from what you genuinely desired. Still, you replied, eyes downcast, “No, of course not.” Because it was the truth. Any woman of the realm would be fortunate to marry into such an old and noble house. There was no denying that. “I just thought…” Your voice trailed and you swallowed back the words, for if you said them out loud, it would mean the future that you had planned for yourself was now truly lost.

“Thought what?” He asked once he realized you were not going to complete your statement, “Of your little Bracken knight?”

Your head snapped back up at him, shocked at the revelation: he knew. Your love, as it turned out, wasn’t so hidden after all and it made you wonder if the pitying look he gave you now made the entire situation even worse. You pondered further: if your father knew of your relations with the young knight, why even engage in acts that would bring about the situation in the first place?

“My darling daughter,” He began as he reached out and patted your hand in an attempt to comfort you, “It is time. You are already one and twenty.” He hesitated at first in saying his following remark, sure that it would hurt you further, but quickly decided that it was better to be honest, “And he has never asked.”

So, that was why. How does one accept a proposal that never comes?

First was an intake of air, then the sound of wood scrapping against the stone floor as you pushed your chair back from the meal. You rose up from your seat with a blank expression and side-stepped away from your place at the table before announcing, “I’ve lost my appetite.” Finally, you removed yourself from the dining hall with your father looking solemnly after your retreating form.

In your chambers, you paced back and forth. It was hot. So very hot. You could feel the burning of your skin as you fanned yourself and you knew, without even having to look into a mirror, that your face was flushed. Beads of sweat began to form at your temple. Your hands shook. And everything felt so tight – so constricting. Your chest heaved as you tried to gasp for air; you couldn’t get your lungs to expand enough in order to take in the much needed oxygen – dread seemed to fill it in its stead. You couldn’t decide which was more suffocating: the clothes or the deplorable reality you were currently facing. Eventually, your fingers found their way to the front of your bodice and you began to fumble with the laces wanting nothing more than to get the accursed article off of you. You ripped it from your body as it came loose before throwing the wretched thing across the room and let out an enraged holler.

He promised, you thought as tears threatened to fall, he promised for many moons now that he would finally go to your father and ask for your hand; announce your love before the whole realm and make you truly his. But as always, he moved too slowly. Cautious. At times, too cautious. And now with his delay, you were going to be sent away to become a Blackwood.

You hunched over to pull off your slippers then threw them unceremoniously against the wall in a vain attempt to quell your anger. With your stockinged feet, you stomped towards the nearest window and screamed into the night, hoping that the breeze would carry your message to its intended.

“Aeron Bracken! You fucking coward!"

The days moved swiftly thereafter and soon enough a week had passed since the announcement of your betrothal, a week since you sent a raven to Aeron, and a week since you waited for a reply that never came. It left a bitter taste in your mouth and an even more sour mood as you sat in the wheelhouse that carried you towards what would be your new home: Raventree Hall. It was there where you would officially meet your betrothed and have the ceremony. Had you not been so heartbroken by your knight’s lack of response, you may have put up a much greater resistance to the marriage. But you were, so you didn’t. It did not help matters that your Lord Paramount actually favored the union, which sealed your fate if nothing else had already. So there you were, sitting across from your father while Atlanna, your most favorite handmaiden and dearest friend, sat to your left as you traveled west.

“A storm brews, my lady.” Atlanna stated candidly as she peeked through the window on her side.

“Does it?” In turn, you peeled back the curtain on yours to observe for yourself the dark clouds that slowly began to roll in; it was as though the heavy weather stalked your very mood. You released the curtain and turned your attention away from the window, slumping into your seat with your arms crossed over your chest, “Perhaps it shall bring about a flood in which I can drown.”

Atlanna let out a small chortle at your antics while your father simply shook his head.

By the time you arrived to the castle, it was already the afternoon and the sky had completely turned overcast, though the rain refused to fall, much like your tears. That tight feeling in your chest returned and you could feel it claw its way up to your neck as you journeyed past the castle gates and closer to the entrance where your future family stood to receive you. Sensing your nerves, Atlanna placed one of her hands over yours and squeezed. You looked over at her and smiled weakly as you squeezed hers back, glad that your father allowed her to leave the household in order to bring her along with you; it would make putting on your brave face much easier and give you at least one ally among your new house.

The wheelhouse slowed and finally came to a stop, prompting your father to stand from his seat and push the door open. You took in a deep breath and steeled yourself, following in your father’s footsteps with Atlanna right behind you. However, as you neared the final steps, your foot slipped and you felt yourself falling forward.

‘Oh’s’ and gasps were heard from the small group gathered before you. You closed your eyes and braced yourself for the impact against the cold, muddy ground, but it never happened. Instead, you felt your body turn as a strong arm wrapped itself around your waist and the other cradled your head, preventing your fall.

Slowly, you opened your eyes and found yourself staring at someone’s chest; your savior was taller than you which forced you to look up. You wished you hadn’t. It was then that you realized that the gods had granted your prayer and sent you to drown, drown, drown. But rather a flood, it was into a pair of stormy eyes. Your heart quickened and your lips parted as you let out a small gasp, still unable to look away. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. He bore down into yours as well, but with what emotion, you couldn’t quite grasp. It felt like an eternity before someone finally let out a chuckle.

“Well, that’s one way to introduce yourself.” Lord Samwell Blackwood laughed and strode over to the pair of you with a wide grin, your body still encased in the young man’s arms. “My lady,” He began once he reached you both and placed a hand on each of your shoulders, “Meet my son, heir to Raventree Hall, and your future lord husband. Benjicot Blackwood.”

Something in your mind suddenly shattered upon hearing his name and you were finally able to blink away from Benjicot’s gaze. You hadn’t realized until then how tightly you had been gripping onto his tunic and as much as you wanted to let go, you weren’t sure if you could with the strength in your legs slowly dissipating. Your eyes darted from Benjicot to his father, then to your father, whose smile was just as wide and full of amusement as Lord Blackwood’s, then back to Benjicot who’s grip on your waist only tightened. You looked up into his eyes once more and a familiar fluttering in your stomach began.

Your eyes widened with recognition.

Oh, shit.

a/n: I recently rejoined tumblr and a few weeks ago I posted a poll to find which character you wanted me to torture first and the Benjicot girlies prevailed. So this is me dipping my toe into the HOTD fandom. I hope I do these characters justice. I was initally going for a longer chapter, but honestly, just wanted to get something out there lol. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and my askbox is always open. ♡

And yes, that was a teeny tiny reference to @spider-stark's fic Little Bracken Knight. 🤭

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