#i hate the changes to rhaenyra in the show too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

softspiderling · 1 month

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est-ce que je t’aime? | j.v

summary:

“What does dear Jace have to say?”

“I do not like your tone,” you huffed, snatching the letter out of his hands. Daeron chuckled, his eyes gleaming.

“You could become my niece, if this continues.”

“Oh please,” you answered, not even entertaining the idea. “I am too low of a rank for him to even consider marrying me.”

OR; After having spent almost eight namedays in Oldtown, you longed for your return to King’s Landing, to see Jace again. When the day finally comes, you didn’t expect to be thrust in the middle of a war for the crown.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader, platonic!daeron targaryen x reader

warnings: mention of death (Viserys), canonical violence (follows plot of the show up to Storm’s End), otherwise this part is pretty tame!

word count: 8,2k

author’s note: i do not know a single thing about daeron except for the tidbits we have learned in the show. the rest is made up (but imo my Daeron character analysis is pretty great finally my bachelor's in english has proven useful). this is gonna be a two parter! the first part is heavily reader x daeron/team green focused, while the second part will focus on reader’s and jace’s relationship. title is from GIMS' song est-ce que tu m'aimes which also inspired this fic... also @eldrith bc i fear i will be threatened with a gun if i dont... happy reading 🫶🏼

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“I have a letter from the Queen Alicent and and another one from the Prince Jacaerys Velaryon,” the messenger said, bowing as he stood at the door.

“Thank you Ser.”

Taking the letters, the messenger bowed to take his leave, and you handed Daeron the letter from his mother before settling into your chaise with Jace’s letter.

This was how you and Daeron received news from King’s Landing and Dragonstone. You hated how you had to wait so long to hear news, longing for the time all of you were at King’s Landing together, but you knew that things hadn’t been working out with Rhaenyra and her family nor with Alicent and her children.

You thought that was the main reason Daeron had been sent to Oldtown, to shield him from the tumultuous life at court and you along with him, despite that you had been Helaena’s lady in waiting.

Smiling at the contents of the letter, you tried to imagine Jace’s voice as he told you of Luke taking flight with Arrax for the first time, failing miserably. It had only been two years since you saw him last, but you knew how boys matured quickly in a short span of time, Daeron being the perfect example.

He had only come up to your shoulders when you first arrived in Oldtown, now, he was almost as tall as you.

“Helaena and Aegon were married,” Daeron suddenly said and your hands stilled, lowering Jace’s letter.

You glanced at him, noticing how small his voice sounded. Putting the letter away, you clasped Daeron’s arm, offering some comfort. You knew how hard it was for him to be away from his family and hearing about important news like that through letter just made the distance seem even greater.

“To whom?”

“To each other.”

“What?”

“Look,” Daeron said, handing you the letter his mother had sent him with the official sigil of the Targaryen house. You read through the letter, before sitting back with a surprised sigh.

“Helaena must be devastated,” you muttered, rubbing the side of your temples. You couldn’t imagine how alone Helaena must feel, to be married off to Aegon. He had always been a little crude; you doubted he had changed much.

“I cannot believe mother did not even deem it necessary to bring me home for their wedding,” Daeron said with a frown. “Am I even still her son?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you chastised him. “Your mother sent you away for your own good.”

Even as you said those words, you didn’t quite believe them yourself. It had been so long since Daeron has seen his family, you understood sending him away in the first place, but going for so long without a single visit?

With a sigh, Daeron brushed his silver hair back, angling towards Jace’s letter you had left on the table.

“What does dear Jace have to say?”

“I do not like your tone,” you huffed, snatching the letter out of his hands. Daeron chuckled, his eyes gleaming.

“You could become my niece, if this continues.”

“Oh please,” you answered, not even entertaining the idea. “I am too low of a rank for him to even consider marrying me.”

“So you have thought about marrying my nephew?”

You groaned and Daeron only cackled when you shoved him.

“Go sit and write to your mother,” you told him with a sniff of your nose and even though he grimaced at you, he sat down at the wooden desk, grabbing a roll of parchment. Even though Daeron was of much higher rank than you, he had adopted you as some sort of older sister ever since you two got to Oldtown, with you being the only familiar person from home that was still present in his life, apart from his uncles, of course.

It pained you, to see Daeron long for his family, who seemed to have discarded him so easily. You wondered when he would get to his family again as you reached for Jace’s letter to keep on reading;You wondered when you would get to see Jace again.

It was six more years before either of that would happen. However under much different circumstances than either of you had imagined.

“Urgent news from King’s Landing!” the messenger said, his breath short as he handed Lord Ormund a roll of parchment. You and Daeron glanced at each other; you were in the middle of breaking fast, the most important meal of the day in Oldtown; it must be incredible important news for the messenger to disrupt the meal like that. His face was stony as he read the contents of the letter, before his eyebrows raised in surprise. He lowered the letter, his eyes finding Daeron.

“Your father has passed. They are to crown your brother Aegon to be King. You are expected back in King’s Landing.” Lord Ormund’s eyes found you. “Both of you.”

It didn’t take long for Daeron and you get everything ready for your departure, you barely noticed most of your belongings being packed up, still reeling from the news. You couldn’t believe King Viserys had died. Of course you had known from the letters that Daeron had received from his mother that the king had taken quite ill, but still. And he named Aegon as his new heir? You couldn’t imagine Aegon, the boy who teased his brother endlessly to become King of the Seven Realms, but who were you to judge?

Your hand was itching to write to Jace, despite your last letter still being unanswered. You weren’t sure what had changed, but lately you felt like Jace’s letters had become scarce, every answer taking longer than the last. You weren’t quite bold enough to ask why in a letter, fearing a rejection, but maybe when you saw him, you could gauge his mood. You knew you were to see him at King Viserys’ funeral or the latest at Aegon’s coronation, you would see him sooner than your letter would take to get to him. Despite knowing that, your eyes caught on parchment and quill, so you took leave to Daeron’s chamber to distract yourself.

The door to his chambers stood open as you stepped in, the maids moving in a flurry as they packed his belongings, while Daeron was sitting on his bed, unmoving. Gingerly, you moved to sit behind him, but he barely acknowledged your presence, gazing out of the window.

“I’m sorry about your father’s passing,” you told him, nudging him with your shoulder.

“I have been living without a father for quite some time,” he replied wryly, glancing at you. “I suppose it will not feel any different.”

You reached for his hand, squeezing it, hoping to lend him comfort. “I know. But still, I wish he had been a better father to you.”

Daeron only snorted, shaking his head.

“Are you nervous to see your kin again?”

The young Prince let out a laugh, unwinding his hand from your grip to stand.

“Kin? I haven’t seen them in nearly ten years,” he scoffed, starting to pace. “Mother writes to me once in a moon, Helaena’s letters are more confusing than not, and Aegon and Aemond barely write to me on my name day. I have not seen them since my eighth name day.”

“They are still your kin, Daeron.”

“By blood, yes.”

“Is there any other way to be kin?”

You were humoring him, knowing he was frustrated and nervous to see his family but Daeron stopped in his tracks, looking at you.

“Yes. You.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise and he took his seat next to you again, cradling your hand in his.

“You came with me to Oldtown when you did not have to, gave me a sense of familiarity in this… Farce of a home, lent me comfort in a way my own blood failed to do,” he said quietly, squeezing your hand. “You are my sister in everything but blood.”

“Oh Daeron,” you sighed, pulling him into a hug and letting the younger boy - despite him arguing that he was long a man - find comfort in your arms. Ten and six, and the burden of feeling like you were abandoned by your family. You wished he did not have to feel this way, but you were powerless to change it.

“Swear to me you will not abandon me once we get back to King’s Landing,” Daeron said, pulling away to hold you at an arm’s length, his eyes searching yours.

“I swear it,” you told him, a smile on your face. “Swear to me you will not say any of this to your mother.”

Daeron let out a laugh at that, but you only shook your head, only half-jesting. You know Otto Hightower would fall right to his grave if he had heard Daeron call you his sister. You were high-born, yes, but in no way comparable to a Princess.

A knock sounded on the door, before a squire entered. “Everything has been prepared for your departure my Prince.”

“Very well, we will be right out,” Daeron answered with a nod.

The squire bowed, before leaving again and you squeezed Daeron’s hand, standing.

“I will go fetch my belongings, you go bid farewell to your uncles.”

Daeron nodded, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. “I will meet you outside the city walls.”

You touched his cheek gently before you departed. A knight and two maids followed you with bags of sustenance and personal belongings to the city walls, where a handful of dragonkeepers were eyeing the sky. Lifting your gaze, you saw Tessarion fly over the city in circles, a smile growing on your face, excited to be making the trip back to King’s Landing on dragonback.

You had always loved whenever Daeron took you out flying on Tessarion; deep within you wished to feel a bond as special as a dragonrider had with their dragon. You wondered if Jace would take you flying on Vermax, now that all of you were reconvening for the King’s funeral rite and Aegon’s coronation.

Tessarion let out a screech before coming to land on the small green meadow, and you knew Daeron must be close. Surely enough, you heard footsteps coming closer before Daeron stopped just next to you, knights accompanying him.

“Will you miss Oldtown?” You asked him, but Daeron only shook his head.

“Nothing keeping me here,” he answered, stepping forward to greet Tessarion as she landed, calming her as the knights and maids attached the satchels and bags to the saddle. You let out a deep breath, turning to look at Oldtown for one last time. While Daeron had been right, a part of you was sad to leave, as it had been the place you had called home for the last years.

“Are you sure this is King’s Landing?”

The journey to King’s Landing had been uneventful and quick, a half day’s journey only. When you had arrived, flying over the city, Daeron directed Tessarion into the dragon pit, where the dragonkeepers had been waiting. Maids had then taken you into the Red Keep, and you barely had any time to react as you looked at the adornments that decorated castle; countless dedications to the Seven. The busy Keep you had remembered had now been replaced with empty halls and dark walls.

Daeron glanced at you before looking around. “Surely mother’s doing.”

The maid led you into empty chambers, bowing to Daeron.

“The Queen Dowager will be with you shortly, my Prince.”

Daeron thanked her and she inclined her head at him before turning to you.

“My Lady, if you follow me.”

“Where are you taking her?” Daeron, his hand on your arm to stop you from leaving. The maid paused, glancing between the two of you.

“To her chambers, my Prince.”

“She will stay with me.”

“Daeron, you should see your mother by yourself, I can come see you after,” you assured him but Daeron merely shook his head, his grip on your arm tightening.

“I shall not meet my mother alone.”

“Daeron-“

“Please,” Daeron begged, his voice panicked and you sighed, giving in. Only then did Daeron release the grip on your arm.

The maid still paused but she then decided to retreat, but not without bowing to Daeron again. He started pacing in the room, picking up the small trinkets that littered the desk.

“They just put me in my old chambers thinking it will be like I never left.”

You raised your eyebrows, glancing around before you realized that Daeron was right - you were standing in his old chambers. They had replaced the furniture and added a bigger bed, but it was the same chambers he had stayed in when he was a little boy.

“They have always kept a place for you to return, is that not a good thing?”

Daeron looked at you with a frown when the doors suddenly opened and Alicent stepped in, in tow with Daeron’s siblings and his grandsire, Otto. Alicent beamed at the sight of her youngest son, though her smile wavered when she saw you, before turning her eyes back to Daeron, opening her arms.

“My boy.”

“Mother,” Daeron replied, his voice hesitant before he fell into her arms, hugging him tightly.

Your heart warmed at the sight and Daeron seemed to lose all of the fears he had been carrying - if only for a split second - as he laid in his mother’s arms. You were content to stay back, let Daeron get reacq with his family again, but you weren’t ignored for long, when someone threw their arms around you with so much momentum, it nearly knocked you off your feet.

“Oh Gods,” you laughed, a head of silver hair in your face. “Helaena.”

“I missed you,” the Princess whispered and you hugged her back just as tightly, sighing. She gave you one last squeeze, before Helaena pulled away to muster you, running her hands through the ends of your hair.

“You look well,” she said. “Very beautiful.”

You flushed at her kind words, lacing her hands with yours. “So are you, my Princess.”

Helaena smiled brightly at you. “You must meet Jahaera and Jahaerys.”

“There is time for that later,” Alicent decided, cutting in. Helaena’s smile dropped slightly and she fled to your side as her mother stepped to you. You bowed your head to greet her, but Alicent grabbed you by the shoulders before pulling you into a hug, surprising you.

“Thank you,” she said quietly in the privacy of the embrace. “Thank you for watching over Daeron when I was unable to.”

You wrapped your arms around Alicent. “Of course my Queen.”

She pulled away, straightening her dress and you caught a glimpse of Otto talking to Daeron before Aegon and Aemond stepped into your view.

“My Princes,” you said, bowing. “My condolences for your father.”

“Thank you,” Aemond said. “He was in great pain, The Stranger freed him.”

His voice was monotone, almost void of emotion and you wondered if any of them mourned their father. Aegon nodded, though he seemed more subdued.

“Are you excited to be King, my Prince?” you asked, hoping to change the topic.

He gave you a wry smile, opening his mouth but Aemond gave him a subtle jab in the side with his elbow.

“Uh, yes, of course, my Lady,” Aegon said, clearing his throat. “Now that we have all reconvened, the coronation cannot come soon enough. You are a much better guest than our nephews.”

That made you pause.

“Jace and Luke were here?” You asked, your forehead creasing.

“Yes. Lord Vaemond challenged Luke as heir for Driftmark and the trial was held at court. They left just shortly before father passed,” Aemond told you, his voice even. You hadn’t known that.

“When are they expected to return?”

Alicent exchanged looks with Otto, silent conversation passing between them and you glanced at Daeron, who seemed just as confused. Something was going on, something you weren’t aware of.

“They are not,” Alicent then said and your lips parted in surprise. “Rhaenyra is upset, rightfully so, that her father had chosen Aegon as his heir, so she decided to remain on Dragonstone.”

Your eyebrows furrowed but you decided not to press the matter, only nodding. The topic was quickly brushed off as Alicent wrapped her arm around Daeron, trying to draw him into conversation, asking about his interests. You only listened half-heartedly, your mind still spinning from the news.

“Do you not think all of this odd?” you asked, your voice low. “I know Rhaenyra is proud, but refusing to show up to the coronation or even pay respects to her late father?”

It was the day after your arrival in King’s Landing, the day of the coronation. The day was hectic, the Keep suddenly bustling with servants and maids getting everything ready; you had taken the advantage to sneak into Daeron’s room, something that had gotten much more difficult ever since you got back to King’s Landing.

“Maybe thing’s have changed,” Daeron replied, rubbing his temple. “We have been away for a while, we do not know of the things that have transpired.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but a knock on the door interrupted you, a maid coming to fetch you for the coronation was about to begin. As you walked to the carriage, you were arguing with yourself on the inside, knowing that you were privy of most details, thanks to Jace’s letters. You couldn’t believe Rhaenyra wouldn’t rush to King’s Landing to bid farewell to her father. There must be something else holding her back.

As you got to the Dragonpit where the coronation was held, you were surprised that it was over faster than you had imagined, almost like it was rushed. Then again, this was your first coronation so who were you to say this wasn’t how every coronation went? As Aegon raised his hand to the small folk, eliciting applause, you joined in. The applause ceded when a loud growl shook the entire building. Silence followed, before the floor gave away when a dragon emerged through the stone, countless people falling to their death, trampled by the the huge beast with Princess Rhaenys on top.

Meleys, you thought, stood before the family, and Alicent rushed towards Aegon to shield him, cries and pleads from the smallfolk surrounding you. Criston shielded Helaena, and you grasped Daron’s hand as he only stared at his cousin in shock.

With bated breath, everyone waited - to be burnt, eaten, you weren’t sure. But Meleys only let out a deafening roar, before flapping her wings, breaking through the doors to escape to freedom.

“What in the Seven Hells was that?” you muttered to Daeron. He gave you a shrug, squeezing your hand as he looked you over, making sure you were unharmed.

The small folk on the other hand were fighting to get out of the building, which seemed to be crumbling in on itself, and Criston began to usher everyone out.

You were the last to come down from the stairs, taking Daeron’s hand he was offering to you when a crunching sound from above made you lift your head, seeing a large part of the roof cave in, falling right down heading straight for you.

“Sister!”

Daeron gave a harsh tug of your arm, pulling you behind him, as the large slab of stone fell right in the place you were standing mere moments ago.

“Are you well?” He asked, his voice full of concern as he padded you down.

“I’m fine, Daeron.”

“Daeron.”

You both looked up when Alicent called for him, just to see that they were all staring at you, Otto seeming incredibly displeased as you realized what Daeron had just called you. Seven Hells, you thought, this was precisely what you had been trying to avoid.

“Do you even realize what sort of rumors would be spread if anyone had heard you refer to her as “sister”?!”

You were pacing in front of the study, voices muffled through the wooden door. After you had gotten back to the Keep, Helaena and Aegon had returned to their children, while Otto and Alicent had dragged Daeron into the study. Neither of them sounded particularly happy, their raised voices spilling out of the room. You were wringing your hands, something that you had been doing a lot since you got to King’s Landing. Not even three nights ago, you were in Oldtown wondering if you were ever to return to King’s Landing, now you were back and everything was happening so fast and you felt like you were missing a big part of the story. When did the King change his mind about his heir? Why wouldn’t Rhaenyra and Daemon return to King’s Landing following the King’s death? And why in the Seven Hells did Rhaenys break through the floor with Meleys like she was being held captive? You had so many questions, none of which you had answer to; deep in thoughts, you didn’t even notice someone approaching you.

“Eavesdropping, are we?”

Letting out a small gasp, you jumped to face Aemond, a hand on your chest as he eyed you, unimpressed.

“Gods, you scared me,” you said, shaking your head. “No, I am waiting on Daeron. Your mother and grandsire didn’t want me to come in.”

Clearly.

Aemond didn’t say anything else as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest. You eyed him as he stood there, on guard. It was hard to gauge him; you felt like Aemond was waiting for you to make a mistake so he had a reason to get rid of you. You remembered the soft, warm boy he used to be when you first got to King’s Landing. You wondered when he had changed, if it was when Luke took his eye or before.

“I should have known Daeron would cling to you after you had gone to Oldtown with him,” he said, his voice slow. “What is it, that you are planning to do with him? Make him infatuated with you so you can insinuate yourself into our family?”

Your ears grew hot at his implication. How dare he abandon his brother for nearly all his life and accuse you of having improper thoughts?

“Daeron is like a brother to me,” you said, voice indignant. “I care about him and I mislike being accused of such a horrible things.”

“So you vow your loyalty to our family, to Aegon as King?”

The way Aemond phrased the question made it seem like you had a choice and you hesitated, the fight leaving you.

“Of course, he’s the rightful heir, is he not?”

Aemond only gave a nod, taking a step back. You narrowed your eyebrows at him, but the door opened and Daeron stepped out, his face in a scowl.

“What happened?” you asked, but he only gave a brief shake of his head. He inclined his head, and you followed him, a knight on your trail, while Aemond stayed behind. The two of you walked for a while, until you reached the gardens, the knight staying by the edge as you and Daeron took a seat on a bench. He still seemed agitated, so you placed your hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“They accused me of impropriety,” Daeron muttered. “Said that I was opening our family up for vulnerabilities and rumors.”

“We’re not in Oldtown anymore, Daeron, everything you do here is looked upon,” you sighed.

“What is improper about calling you my sister? You have been by my side since my eighth name day,” he argued. “How can I call a woman my mother when I haven’t seen her since I was a boy? The strangers brothers and sister, when I barely recognize them?” Daeron hissed, his voice rising.

“I know you’re upset,” you said quietly, eyes darting around, not wanting him to get in even more trouble. “It’s hard for them to understand. They are not trying to hurt you.”

“Did they not try to hurt me when they cast me out of the family?”

You sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder, and Daeron let out a shaky breath, staring out in the distance.

“How is my brother faring?”

You shut the door to Daron’s chambers quietly to find Aemond waiting just in front. After you had spent the rest of the afternoon in the gardens, you had thought it best if Daeron laid down for a while before supper, hoping it would calm him.

“It’s hard for him to find his footing here. His life in Oldtown hasn’t been this… Restrictive. It will take him time to adjust.”

Aemond nodded, letting out a sigh.

“I was hoping he would accompany me,” he said. “But I do not think he sounds well enough to go.”

“Where are you going?”

“Storm’s End. To get Lord Borros to vow for my brother.”

What?

“Forgive me but who else would he be loyal to?”

Aemond turned around, looking at you in disdain.

“Rhaenyra. She might think she still has some claim on the throne.”

He paused, eyeing you carefully.

“You should come.”

“Me?”

Aemond’s eye swept over you once more and he nodded.

“Yes, it will look good to Lord Borros if someone outside of our family is there showing support to Aegon,” he insisted. “It will be a short flight on Vhagar.”

“Very well,” you said, a glance on Daron’s closed door, wondering if you should tell him that you would be gone, but it sounded like the trip to Storm’s End wouldn’t be long, so you decided against waking him. You could tell him after.

You followed Aemond to the dragonpit, where a maid laid a cloak around your shoulders as you watched Aemond mount Vhagar, the breath stocking in your throat at the size of his dragon. Vhagar was large and old, barely able to turn in the dragon pit without brushing the cave.

“Come,” Aemond said, offering his hand to you before pulling you into the saddle, instructing you to hold on tightly.

“Soves, Vhagar!”

With a loud growl, Vhagar stepped out of the dragon pit before taking to the skies, her enormous wings stretching out several feet. The ride on Vhagar was much smoother than every ride you had ever taken on Tessarion, and it wasn’t long before you reached Storm’s End, dark clouds following you. Vhagar landed in the courtyard, you and Aemond climbing off.

“Just in time,” the Baratheon knight said, watching the rain pour from the skies just as you stepped under the roof.

“I am Prince Aemond Targaryen, brother of King Aegon II,” Aemond said, fixing his doublet. “I am here to talk to Lord Borros.”

The knight lead him into the Round Hall, where Lord Borros sat on his seat, seemingly having expected Aemond, his four daughters standing idly next to him.

“Prince Aemond, what can I do for you?”

“Lord Borros, I am here to ask you to pledge loyalty to my brother, King Aegon II.”

“King Aegon, you say,” Lord Borros said, arrogance dripping from his voice. “And what do you offer me for my loyalty?”

You were taken aback by his words, but Aemond only smiled, his hands locked behind his back.

“Your four daughters… They are still unwed?”

A smile spread on Lord Borros’ face and he gestured to his four daughters with his arm.

“Indeed. Are you proposing a betrothal?”

Aemond inclined his head. “Not only am I free to marry, but my younger brother, Prince Daeron as well. His lady companion can attest to his formidable character.”

Your eyes widened at Aemond’s words and you glanced at him, anger welling up inside you. So this was why he had wanted you to come. Aemond paid you no mind and you exhaled deeply, turning to face Lord Borros again, putting up a faux smile.

“Excellent, excellent,” Lord Borros said, clapping his hands. “Let us discuss-“

“My Lord!” A knight called, striding into the hall with quick steps. “Another dragon has been sighted, headed straight to Storm’s End.”

“Ah, that must be my nephew,” Aemond replied easily, your heart skipping a beat. Were you finally going to see Jace again? Lord Borros gestured to the side, and Aemond placed his hand to your lower back to push you along; you fought your urge to slap his hand away from you, eyes darting over to the door.

The heavy rain was still pelting outside, nearly drowning out the sound of the steps as a young boy entered.

“Prince Lucerys Velaryon,” the knight announced. “Son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

Luke, you thought, looking at the young Prince, now old enough to be delivering messages. The last time you saw him, he was round faced, his dark locks curling around his angelic face. Seeing him lessened the fire in your chest, though you were still angry at this whole situation, and you threw Aemond a look. He didn’t seem like he was paying any attention anyhow, his focus on his nephew who came further into the hall.

Luke’s step faltered when he saw Aemond, before his eyes laid on you. You tried to give him a comforting smile, show him you were a friendly face in a crowd of hostiles, knowing Luke was about to be met with a rejection, but he quickly glanced away, facing Lord Borros.

“Lord Borros...” Luke started. “I brought you a message from my mother... the Queen.”

“Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King,” Lord Borros drawled, his tone less warm. “Which is it? King, or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it.”

Lord Borros chuckled in amusement and you could tell Luke was nervous by the way he was shifting on his feet. Aemond seemed to enjoy all of it.

“What’s your mother’s message?”

Luke held out the parchment roll and the a knight fetched it, bringing it to Lord Borros, which he readily accepted, asking for the maester. As the maester quietly recounted the content of the message to Lord Borros, Luke glanced to you and Aemond numerous times, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Your eyebrows creased, but the corners of Aemond’s mouth tugged up.

“Remind me of my father’s oath?” Lord Borros spoke, the message seemingly upsetting him greatly. “King Aegon at least came with an offer: My swords and banners for a marriage pact. If I do as your mother bids… Which one of my daughters will you wed, boy?”

Luke hesitated. You pressed your lips together; he had probably expected less of a hostile welcoming. Lord Borros only scoffed at Luke’s silence.

“Go home, pup,” he sneered. “Tell your mother that the Lord of Storm’s End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes.”

Luke inclined his head, disappointed at the rejection.

“I shall take your answer to the Queen; my Lord.”

Luke turned to leave, but Aemond stepped forward, calling out to him.

“Wait, my Lord Strong.”

You glanced at Aemond, letting out a soft breath, nerves pooling in your stomach. Luke turned, despite the blatant insult.

“Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”

Your hand reached out to grasp Aemond, but he slipped out of your grips as he stepped closer to his nephew.

“I will not fight you. I came as messenger, not a warrior.”

“A fight would be little challenge,” Aemond said. “No. I want you to put out your eye.”

He took off his eyepatch and you pressed your lips together, eyes darting between uncle and nephew, knowing this was about to escalate terribly.

“As payment for mine. One will serve,” Aemond added, throwing a dagger in Luke’s direction. “I would not blind you.”

Luke stared at Aemond in shock, his lips parted.

“Plan to make it a gift of it to my mother.”

Luke’s eyes dropped to the dagger on the floor, before he lifted his head. “No.”

“Then you are craven as well as a traitor.”

“Not here,” Lord Borros said, but no one paid him any attention.

“Give me your eye!” Aemond yelled, descending upon Luke, grabbing the dagger from the floor, while Luke stepped back, reaching for his sword. “Or I will take it, bastard.”

“Aemond!” you shouted, panic evident in your voice.

“Not in my hall!” Lord Borros cut in, his voice raised and Aemond stopped, turning back to look at him. “The boy came as an envoy. I’ll not have blood shed beneath my roof. Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon. Now.”

Luke resheathed his sword, throwing one last look at you before he turned, hurrying out of the hall. Aemond let out a huff of frustration, throwing a dirty look at Lord Borros, exiting the hall without waiting for you.

“Aemond, wait,” you called after him, hurrying to keep up with his long strides. “You’re not thinking about following him on Vhagar in this horrible storm, are you?”

“He cannot get away with it, not again.”

Aemond’s voice was angry and you let out a breath, trying to keep a clear head.

“This is a thing from the past!” you reminded him. “Did you not gain a dragon from it?”

“You were not present when he took my eye!” Aemond hissed, taking a turn before you had reached the courtyard, just in time to see Luke on Arrax, flying out of Storm’s End. It was raining so heavily, you could barely see him, dark rain clouds swallowing Arrax and his rider easily.

Aemond was already walking towards Vhagar, the rain soaking, as you stayed put under the roof, hesitant.

“Are you coming, or staying?” Aemond shouted, climbing on top of Vhagar. You could feel the anger rolling off of him, something that Vhagar no doubtedly was feeling as well with the way she was growling and you wanted him to stay, calm down, but you knew it was no use, so you exhaled deeply, lowering your head.

“I am coming.”

You took his outstretched hand and he pulled you into the saddle behind him; you had barely settled in before Vhagar already leapt up in the sky.

The rain felt like small icy daggers in your face as you ascended higher and higher to the sky, easily catching up to the smaller dragon carrying Luke. Vhagar let out a roar, snapping her jaws at Arrax, as the smaller dragon breathed fire in your direction. It was clear that Arrax was no match for Vhagar.

“Aemond stop!”

Your voice barely carried over the rain, but Aemond disregarded you, his Vhagar as she darted to the left. You tightened your hold on Aemond, nerves coursing through you.

“What is it you’re trying to achieve, Aemond? You yelled, shaking him. “Are you trying to kill him?”

“That boy needs to learn how to fear me,” he only replied, tightening his reins on Vhagar, the distance between you and Arrax growing.

Aemond let out a frustrated growl, urging Vhagar to fly faster and you could feel the adrenaline rising as you almost caught up to Arrax again. You knew you were at a cross roads, and what would happen next would change everything, with Aemond consumed by his anger, and Vhagar following his emotions, someone was bound to get hurt. You had to do something. So as Vhagar descended upon Arrax, her jaws opening, you let go of Aemond, leaping off of Vhagar, almost immediately regretting it as Aemond yelled out your name, before you landed on Arrax, the wind being knocked out of your chest.

The young dragon let out a screech, dropping several feet down with the sudden added weight, just barely escaping Vhagar’s jaws.

“What are you doing?!” Luke screamed, the rain pelting against his face as he held onto his saddle tightly, Arrax roaring.

“Saving your life!”

You scrambled to find anything to hold onto, trying not to fall a gruesome death, your hands gripping onto Luke’s shoulders.

Vhagar’s shadow disappeared, but you knew her and Aemond were lurking inbetween the stormy clouds, you had to act fast. Your eyes were straining against the heavy rain, hand gripping into Luke’s shoulders.

“Do you trust me?”

“Not particularly, no!”

You grumbled, knowing his feelings were warranted, but this was not the time.

“We’re vulnerable. We need to find a spot to lay low, where Vhagar cannot come in.”

“Arrax is faster, I just need to get back home. It’s not that far!” Luke yelled back and you shook your head, even though he couldn’t even see you.

“That’s what Aemond is counting on! Please Luke, I know you don’t trust me, but I am trying to keep both of us alive.”

Luke groaned in frustration before tightening his reins on Arrax.

“Ilagon, Arrax!” Luke instructed. “Īlon jorrāelagon naejot jurnegon syt ruaragon.” Down, Arrax. We need to search for cover.

Arrax roared before you dropped several feet, flying by a range of mountains. You squinted your eyes trying to see anything in the rain, when you saw a cave several feet down.

The opening was small, too small for Vhagar to get in, but large enough for Arrax.

“Luke,” you said, squeezing his shoulder and pointing to the cave. “Down there.”

Luke nodded, leaning down to guide Arrax into the cave, and soon enough, the both of you were back on solid ground.

Arrax whined and Luke whispered to him gently, stroking his snout. “Lykiri, Arrax,” he said, leaning his head against his dragon’s. “Īlon jāhor jikagon lenton aderī, syt sir, ziry iksos daor ȳgha. Lykiri, issa valonqar.” Calm down, Arrax. We will go home soon, for now, it’s not safe. Calm down, my boy.

Arrax let out a soft whine, before curling in on himself, letting out a puff of smoke. With slumped shoulders, Luke sat down against the cave wall. You took off your cloak, laying it down so it could dry off before you sat down next to Luke, even as the boy avoided eye contact with you.

For a while, the two of you sat in silence with the occasional huff of Arrax, listening to the storm raging on outside. You hoped Aemond would cease his need for revenge soon. As a particularly loud thunder sounded, Luke jumped and you glanced at him, your heart aching.

“Are you well?”

Luke glanced over to you, trying to hide his tense shoulder by tightening his wet cloak around himself.

“No. But I’m unharmed,” he replied, his lips unmistakably shivering.

“It is better when you take off wet clothes, otherwise it might make you sick,” you said, leaning over to him to help unfasten his cloak, but Luke flinched away at your touch and your hands froze midair.

“I am sorry,” you said, breath bated. He must still be shaken, after seeing The Stranger right in the eyes. Luke let out a small breath, his fingers tightening in the fabric of his cloak.

“Did you know my uncle came to Storm’s End to kill me?” Luke asked, his voice small. “Did you come to make me lower my guards?”

“Forgive me?”

You knew their family affairs were difficult, strained from what had happened in the past, but you were stunned that he would expect this from Aemond, or you.

“I cannot speak of Aemond’s intentions,” you said truthfully. “Only of mine. I never wanted to harm you, and I did my best to keep you safe as soon as I realized that Aemond was too blinded by his need for revenge…”

Luke sniffed, wiping his cheeks and you moved to sit down in front of him.

“I’m only here to help you,” you assured him, holding your hands up in defense. “Arrax would turn me to ashes if I even touch you the wrong way, right?”

Arrax let out a soft growl at that and Luke gave you a small smile, nodding.

“Yes he would.”

“See, you’re in no danger,” you told him, your hand slowly reaching for his cloak, careful, as to not spook him. “Now take off your cloak and lay it down, it will dry off faster this way.”

Luke nodded, unfastening his cloak and laying it down next to yours before he took a seat beside you. Even though he had grown considerably in the years you had not seen him, he still was the little cheeky boy you remembered from before you had left King’s Landing.

“You have grown into a fine young Prince,” you told him. “I almost did not recognize you when you walked into Lord Borros’ hall.”

Luke quirked a smile at you, ducking his head. “I’m almost as tall as Jace now. He despises it.”

You grinned, pulling your legs close. You could imagine Jace just all too well, squinting at the mirror standing next to Luke.

“How is Jace?” you asked, your chest tight. You couldn’t believe how it was mere moon’s turns ago where you were exchanging letters, wondering why his replies seemed to become rarer.

Luke let out a small sigh, like it was a question that plagued him.

“Jace is… Angry. Ever since my uncle usurped the throne he has been trying to take action, fight for my mother’s claim.”

Your forehead creased.

Usurp?

“Pardon… Are you saying Aegon is not the rightful heir to King Viserys?”

Luke stared at you, mouth agape. “… Yes. He stole my mother’s inheritance.”

You only blinked at him, letting the news sink in as you leaned back against the wall, stumped.

“Now everything is falling into place… Why Aemond was questioning my loyalties, Rhaenys! Gods!” You covered your face with your hands, a gasp escaping your lips. “Daeron. I’ve left Daeron at King’s Landing without telling him that I’ve gone.”

You didn’t want to imagine what story Aemond has spun to make you a villain, to draw Daeron on his side.

“I’m sure all will be well,” Luke assured you, patting your hand consolingly. You only nodded, even though you were making up the worst scenarios in your head. Luke gave you a small smile, turning his hand when a yawn overtook him; Arrax had long curled up, his snores filling the cave.

“You should get some rest,” you told him, glancing over to the entrance of the cave where it was still pouring rain. “It might be a while before the rain ceases. I will wake you, when it is safe to leave.”

Luke semed hesitant, but then gave in, settling back against the wall, closing his eyes. As he slept, you noticed how he looked even younger, too young to be thrust into a war like this. Was this the fate that would meet Daeron, Helaena or even Joffrey? The thought unsettled you.

Time passed for a while, and it seemed like the clouds would never pass, but surely enough, the rain lessened, before stopping completely.

Gently, you shook Luke awake, feeling bad for waking him, but you knew he’d want to go home as soon as possible.

“Luke, the rain has stopped,” you told him, waiting for him to blink at you sleepily before you got to your feet, collecting your cloaks off of the ground. You handed Luke his cloak, fastening your own around your shoulders.

“It should be safe now. Aemond must be long gone.”

Luke nodded, glancing at Arrax and then back at you, hesitating, and you knew what he was thinking. You had been thinking it ever since you got to the cave.

“It is alright, Luke. Arrax is too small to carry us both all the way to Dragonstone. Go.”

You tried to be brave, giving Luke a smile but your voice was shaking, whether it was from fear or cold, you weren’t sure. You were a high born lady, you were in no way capable of fending for yourself. Luke leaving you here would mean a certain death, but he didn’t need to know that. Luke looked at you with big eyes, saying nothing before he walked over to Arrax, whispering to him as he stroked his dragon’s neck gently.

You let out a small breath, taking another look around the cave, resigning yourself to your fate when Luke called your name.

“Come, we need to leave before the weather turns again.”

“Luke, no,” you argued but Luke shook his head.

“You saved me. I am not leaving you behind. I would never forgive myself, and neither would Jace,” Luke said, and you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. “Arrax can carry us both, it is not much longer until Dragonstone.”

You ducked your head, a smile on your lips. Rhaenyra really raised amazing children.

“Very well.”

The two of you squeezed into the saddle on top of Arrax, who let out a small huff as he walked to the entrance of the cave.

“Mēre mōrī kipagon gō īlon issi lenton, issa valonquar,” Luke said to Arrax, gently caressing his neck. “Soves.” One more flight until we’re home, my boy.

Arrax leapt into the air, letting out a screech before stretching his wings, making his way home. As you flew through the skies, your eyes darted around constantly, looking for any sign of Vhagar, but it seemed like the coast was clear. Soon enough, you could see the outline of Dragonstone, and just in time; as you had noticed Arrax growing tired the more you lost on altitude.

“Īlon issi bē konīr, Arrax. Sepār mirrī tolī.” We are almost there, Arrax. Just a bit more.

Luke’s voice was gentle as he spoke to Arrax, despite his nerves. You nearly sighed in relief when Arrax flew towards the small opening to the dragon mount, and you thanked all the Gods when both you and Luke climbed off of Arrax onto solid ground again.

“Prince Lucerys!”

A knight came hurrying into the dragon pit, his eyes flickering to you before turning his attention back to Luke.

“Her Grace has been awaiting your arrival.”

Luke nodded, watching Arrax climb into the depths of the cave to get some much needed rest before he turned to the knight. “Take us to my mother.”

The knight bowed, leading you and Luke into the Keep, stopping in the doorway. Rhaenyra was pacing in front of the fire, her face worried. You hadn’t seen her for so long, but she looked almost exactly the same.

“Prince Lucerys, your Grace.”

Rhaenyra ceased her pacing, looking up and the relief was obvious on her face as she ran toward her son.

“Luke!”

“Mother!”

Rhaenyra threw her arms around her son, embracing him tightly and your breath stocked in your throat as you stayed back. You couldn’t believe how everything could have played out so differently if you had not intervened.

Rhaenyra pulled away, cupping Lucerys’ face with her hands.

“What happened?”

“Aemond and Vhagar were already at Storm’s End when I arrived. Lord Borros refused to stand by his oath… When I left Aemond followed me on Vhagar; if she hadn’t intervened…”

Lucerys paused and Rhaenyra glanced over to you; you, who had stayed behind to give them privacy.

You bowed your head, mostly out of respect but also because you had no idea what to do.

“You’re Helaena’s lady in waiting,” Rhaenyra said.

“I was. I have spent my last eight name days in Oldtown with Daeron.”

Rhaenyra gave you a small, grateful smile, but before either of you could continue your talks, shouts interrupted you.

“Mother! Luke!”

You turned around just to see Jace storming into the hall, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Your heart stopped in your chest as you saw him again for the first time in so many years, relief washing over his face as he saw his brother stand with his mother unharmed. Then his eyes laid on you, and you gave him a shy smile. Jace only blinked at you, eyeing you from head to toe before his eyes widened; and for a second, you thought he’d be happy to see you. Instead, his forehead creased and his mouth curled downwards.

“What are you doing here?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: omg the drama...what are we thinking??

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jace x reader #jacaerys x reader #jace x you #jacaerys x you #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon fic #jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon #hotd

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beetlejuicyy · 3 months

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criston cole is such a female-experience coded character and it is exactly why he is hated so much hear me out

his whole character is built around the idea that rhaenyra seduced him, had taken his dignity and made him feel like her whore. his vow and his duty are close enough to the idea of women's purity and value. you were sullied, you have to marry the man that devalued you, otherwise you are spoiled and unworthy.

on top of that, his identity as a knight, as kingsguard means he is submissive. he is not seen having a lot of opinions or plans to how things are done, the big guys in the council decide and he has to obey to their orders.

on top of that, when he does act at last, it's portrayed in the form of scheming, behind the backs of people, and it's mostly attributed to his sentimental nature, to his inability to think straight, be logical because of his personal feelings. that's how women have been portrayed for centuries.

another thing that makes his character harder to grasp is the choice to have the same actor play the pre-timeskip and past-timeskip criston. 20 years have passed and yet people see him as the same person who refused to be rhaenyra's whore but now he is hypocritical because he is alicent's whore. 20 years have passed and, even if you can't see it on his face, he's bound to have changed too.

in his relationship with alicent he doesn't talk as much. he is obedient, she's the one in charge. she gets to say when and how things happen, he is just at her service.

his entire character is build up to revolve around rhenyra, like women's lives are supposed to revolve around men. if he refuses to acknowledge his status in his youth he is no longer allowed to later (after 20 years mind you) find some sort of comfort in another master. it's like saying "if you say you hate the system why take part in it"?

his pent up rage and hatred is evil, because what happened to him was behind closed doors where no one saw or heard of it. because if they knew of it he would lose everything, exactly the way women have often refrained from talking about their condition in fear of being villainized themselves. in the meantime, the one in power will keep their dignity and spotless reputation like rhaenyra is not even held accountable for having bastards pushed forward as heirs, not to mention the fling she had with criston.

this rant is in no way trying to portray criston cole as a saint or a good guy or trying to justify his behaviour. this is actually the problem with hotd, the effort to draw a line between the good guys and bad guys. have it be either balck or white. it's not, it can't be. you either have complex, morally grey characters with flaws and mistakes or you go watch marvel or something. even there villains are more humanized than in this petty effort of righteousness.

LE: thank you everyone who mentioned the aspect of criston being a man of colour from dorne and the power dynamic between a royal and a lower born who fought his way into the world! this rant was written in a rush and while i couldn't express the latter as eloquently as most of you in the tags/comments, i completely overlooked the former. i love looking through everyone's tags and comments and seeing your takes. as @jazzyclarinet pointed out in the comments, seeing criston's character in this light does not erase or diminish the injustice other women in the story experience.

on another note, i feel like part of the blame is on the way hbo marketed the season with the pressure to pick a side. however, i think what we've been lacking as a society in the post covid years is actual unbiased analysis of art. swallowing up content without any question and making said content a personality trait is harmful. as i said, i don't like criston as a character, but i can make these points about him simply because i watch the show critically and i don't blindly defend a character while trashing another.

#criston cole #ser criston cole #ser criston #hotd criston #house of the dragon #hotd #alicent x criston #alicent hightower #pro criston cole #pro alicent hightower #pro team green #team green #anti team black

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flowerisevil · 1 month

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For I am yours.

Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen princess original character.

A/N: this was one of the request I received but I accidentally deleted i along with my previous works:( anyways I use an OC for this one sorry, I hope you'll like it.

Disclaimer: mention of past attempted SA, inform me if i miss anything also possible grammatical and typographical errors ahead. English is not my first language

Summary: he was sworn to her, he is hers in any way she requires him.

~°~°~

Elaerys Targaryen, the epitome of grace and beauty in the Seven Kingdoms, many have said she had surpassed the qualification of the beauty of Targaryen woman, they said she was favored by the Sevens for having a such gorgeous features. And Elaerys was much aware of the attention and beauty she acquired, and her face is the exact reason why she have different guards every moon.

Her father, the King had to change her sworn protector every moon because of two reason, they had attempted to took advantage of her, or fell for her beauty. All of them broke their oath to the princess leading them to be exiled from the position and in King's Landing.

"It is none of your fault, Elaerys" her older sister comforted her, as she heard the news that her new sworn protector was caught glimpsing at her bathro door.

"Nyra, t-this is the exact reason why his grace would not allow me to go outside these walls, I want to go out, I want to visit the cities and people!" Elaerys complained, she envy her older sister Rhaenyra when their father allowed her to have her marital tour, Rhaenrya was abled to travel while her stayed in the Keep.

"next moon perhaps father will less strict to you after your name day" Rhaenyra cheered for her as she finished braiding Elaerys white hair.

"you look exactly like mother" her sister added smiling at the sight of her younger sister.

Elaerys bittersweet smile, she loved and hated it the same time, she loved being beautiful no doubt but its the very reason why she's also caged in here.

"Do you think If I get married I will be much more free?" Elaerys asked, her hand scratch the blade of her shoulders anxiously.

Rhaenyra sighed. "It depends but mostly no, when you became a wife you have duties to attend to Elaerys" Rhaenyra pitied her, she knows the exact feeling of being prisoned here in the castle.

Rhaenyra only hugged her to show comfort, she knows when the time has come the King will learn to let her fly on her own wings, after all she is a dragon nonetheless she is made of fire and blood too.

Her name day came, and the right time for marriage, the King prepared a grand celebration for her second born daughter, a ball and feast.

Elaerys sat on her seat beside her was her sister Rhaenyra almost drunk from all of the wine she drank tonight. The princess looked around setting her eyes on a familiar deep blue eyes, Ser Harwin Strong.

"You missed him don't you?" Rhaenyra whispered beside her, teasing her sister to its past lover.

Elaerys shrugged her, her sister wasn't wrong but she had decided to stay away from him. He was her almost, if only Ser Harwin is not bounded by too much honor, that he chose his duty than asking for her hand in marriage, but she could not blame him for not risking his position.

"Why don't you tell our father that you want him to marry? I am quite sure he will trust Ser Harwin on your protection, that man can dead someone who will dare to lay a finger on you" Rhaenyra jested as she loudly laughed.

It's not like she did not thought of that but other than his bounded to his duty, Elaerys felt Harwin did not want to do anything with her anymore, she would not want to tie him in a loveless marriage with her forever.

Her eyes searched for him again once again, she looked for him in the dancing crowd, maybe his out there dancing with some other highborn ladies.

"Done looking for that brawny man?" Her eyes promptly looked up to see their cousin Laenor, just like her sister he also knew the past business she and Ser Harwin once had.

Laenor sat on the other empty side chair beside her. "Happy name day cousin, welcome to the right age of marriage" Laenor and Rhaenyra both laughed, looks like their three years in marriage are already taking big impact on each other.

She both sign them to stop when they saw the King approaching beside him was his Hand and another red headed man.

The three youngster Targaryens stood up, bowing to the King before Viserys spoke. "My daughter happy name day, here may I present to you your new sworn protector"

A man stepped forward, wearing a green and silver tunic, his hair looks like an ginger auburn hair close up, pale skin, blue eyed and freckled man reveals himself.

"Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown" the King introduced.

Elaerys eyes darted to Otto, this is his son?

"Hightower? I did not assume Ser Otto has a knight i their family" Rhaenyra commented.

Otto simply smiled, sarcasm filled his face. "Gwayne is Alicent's older brother, my heir to Oldtown"

Laenor spoke first of the three of them. "An honor to meet you Ser Gwayne, I do hope you enjoy your stay here in King's Landing and you will keep an eye at my cousin, the princess she can be very hard to handle sometimes"

It made the group laughed, Gwayne smiled while nodding in acknowledgment, his gaze moved to the princess, Gwayne noticed the discreet look she gave him. He bow in respect but Elaerys only nod and offer him a small smile.

"Thank you your grace, I shall observe Ser Gwayne's skills" Elaerys uttered, it earned a laugh from her father.

As the celebration continued Gwayne stay near her, she thought he would start his duty by tomorrow but the knight stayed close to where she was.

Gwayne was relief and bizarre for the princess, commonly highborn ladies would love this kind of events but instead she sat there and watch the crowd, most specifically he noticed that she's eyeing someone in the crowd.

Gwayne examined her, all of the stories about her graceful beauty, he thought people was just exaggerating again about someone from the Targaryen dynasty but no, her white silver hair neatly dropped down, her lilac eyes, and flawless skin, her entire aspect screams elegance and royalty, she was indeed a princess.

Elaerys was feeling spiritless around this crowd, she wish to have a breath of the air outside, she stood from her seat and walked away from the banquet, she was thankful Laenor and Rhaenyra both left her for a moment so no one would stop her from leaving.

She knew her new sworn protector was following her, it was his duty what else did she expect?

She stopped infront of the empty balcony, she turned around seeing her knight near the open dood to guard it. Silence filled the balcony, Elaerys was quite familiar with that aspect but her knight on the other side seems bothered it.

"Don't you relish the grand celebration inside, princess?" Gwayne spoke, he wasn't use to a such silence.

"I seem to grow tired of it Ser"

"Then why don't you rest on your chamber?"

Elaerys frowned, turning her head to look at her knight, his voice was filled with sarcasm?

"Pardon?"

Gwayne seem to take notice about the change of expression of the princess, "I mean no offense, princess"

After that silence filled them again, until excuse herself to rest no one talked again.

Months had passed Gwayne surprisingly was able to keep his oath and duty, but he did admit it to himself that somehow he catched an attraction to the princess, with her kind and pleasing demeanor he tried his best but it was too late.

They had interacted and shared a lot of unexpected proximity many times, just like right now. Both of them under of one of the trees in Kingswood. Elaerys sneaked outside the King's Landing after hearing the news that the is planning to match him with Tyland Lannister, Gwayne spotted her sneak outside the castle and when he confronted her, the princess plead him and there they are.

"That man age is near his deathbed" Elaerys muttered, a bottle of ale on her right hand, she felt like her head was spinning.

"That is a very rude thing to say princess" Gwayne looked at him and continued "but I very much agree so"

Gwayne watched her reaction, when Elaerys laughed he did the same, relieved that he managed to let out a pretty laugh from her mouth. A few moments later the two shared a deep conversation.

"Ser Gwayne did you ever had a relationship with someone you shouldn't had?"

Gwayne rested his head on the pillar of the tree. "I never had a serious relationship my princess"

"you mean you only dealt with whores in brothels?"

"not only in brothels my princess" Gwayne fixed his armor before speaking again. "But those were before I was appointed as a knight, as I enter knighthood I have left all of those behind"

Elaerys smiled as she nodded. "I do not criticize your Ser for acting like a normal human"

"I do not think you're the type of judging someone without fully knowing them"

A smiles formed on the drunk face of the princess, she drank another sip from her ale, Gwayne did not want to stop her, he knows she had a rough day and he would not neglect her for having freedom for once.

"If you do not mind princess, have you fell for someone you should not have?"

She did. And looks like she was about to again.

Gwayne saw the glint in her eyes, he nodded. "i shall take that as a yes. If I may, who is this lucky Lord then?"

Gwayne can feel his heart beating fast, he was hoping for the answer that he wants. That his name would be the words that would trail off from her mouth.

"Ser Harwin Strong, he was my first lover.."

Gwayne let out a dramatic gasp. "You have a very surprising taste, princess"

Who knows that the man of honor, the one they call the hard Breakbones and the Lord Commander of City Watch fell for the princess beauty?

But who wouldn't? That's the very reason why the King appointed him to this position. His Grace had expected him to not have any romantic attachment to the princess.

Elaerys talked about Harwin for hours and it was making Gwayne's ear fuzz, the constant utter of the name Harwin from the princess pain his ears, maybe letting the princess finish those three bottles of ale was a bad idea, she was intoxicated.

"Ser Gwayne"

Her words caught his attention, finally a good name came out from her pretty lips. As he turned his face to her, he was stunned by their proximity, he hadn't realize that Elaerys already closed the gap between them.

"You shall have your very own oath to me" The princess declared. "I want you to make your own vow and swear it to me" He thought maybe its just one of the princess nonsense game driven by the alcohol but somehow in him felt to take it seriously.

His eyes pierced into her, he suddenly lost all his ability to look away, she was more than beautiful, its not just her hair and eyes, but what her face express and trying to tell that makes her beautiful. As she looked up to him their gaze met, both glued on each other.

"I Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown vow to you my Princess Elaerys Targaryen, that I will do my very best and offer my very last breath serving and protecting you, I shall serve no one but you, and you shall have me for anything you require, for I am yours"

It almost sounded like a marriage vow.

Elaerys beamed at him her hand reaching to cup his cheeks "You are a very beautiful man Ser Gwayne" were the last think she muttered before she drift off to sleep.

Is she always like this? Is this the reason why her past knights all head over heels to her? If yes then he himself is no different from those knights.

"No wonder those men was enchanted by this lovely princess" he exhales, guiding the princess to lay comfortably on the grounds, he cannot risk riding his horse with a wasted princess with him.

He took of his white cloak and placed it on the ground to serve as a sheet of the princess, after placing her to her handmaid bed he leaned and pressed his back on the tree.

He cannot end up like those knights, exiled from their position and in King's Landing. The King trusted him with his daughter and Seven hells the princess is younger than her sister Alicent.

"I am not even sure if she feels the same way" he chuckles.

***

After that night, Elaerys felt a wall that her knight build, he became distant and cold. And she knew the very exact reason why.

She hated that she yearned for him after that night, she hated that she have to pretend everyday that his distance from her did not bother her, she hated that he placed a barrier between them. A lot change after that night, she sometimes caught herself looking at him for too long, glimpsing at his lips, looking or searching for him when she would lose the sight of him.

"I want to go to Rhaenyra" Elaerys spoke while walking through the halls.

"As you wish princess, I shall accompa-"

"I would like to go alone, for the meantime you can have an hour off Ser Gwayne, you have nothing to worry I'll stay inside her chambers" Elaerys explained

He wanted to protest, to not let her take away the only opportunity he have to be close to her, the only chance he can see glance at her for as much as he can, but reading her eyes he sense that he should let her after all he is serving her and he should do whatever she commander him to do.

Elaerys started walking away from him, he can hear the fast click of her shoes showing her urgency.

Elaerys did not bother to knock on her sister's door as she opened it, she walked to Rhaenyra's bed and hugged her.

"What's the problem?" Rhaenyra spoke but the princess keep her head on her older sister's shoulder.

"Rhaenyra, what if I wish to marry someone?" Elaerys lifted her head, facing her sister's confused face.

"and? You make it sound that the man you want to marry is someone who you shouldn't" Rhaenyra replied.

Elaerys did not manage to answer, Rhaenyra had hit the right words. Rhaenyra sat straight concern filled her face.

"It's Ser Gwayne isn't it?"

Elaerys nodded her head dropping ashamed of what she put herself into.

Rhaenyra chuckles as she raised her sister's face. "You have nothing to be ashamed of Elaerys, Ser Gwayne is an honorable knight"

"exactly Rhaenyra he is a knight, my sworn protector, he took an oath, it is treason if we engage into any romantic relations"

"Elaerys sometimes you have to take a risk and know its outcome than not doing anything"

Rhaenyra talked to her like how an older sister would, she gave her advices and guidance of what she should do.

"The decision is on you sister, and whatever it is I will support you" was Rhaenyra's last words.

Is the decision truly on hers?

***

She have thought of her sister words, after all Elaerys is not sure if Gwayne even felt the same.

While walking in Godswood and Gwayne guarding her as usual, she was admiring the fall of leaves from the branches when someone called her from behind.

He knew exactly those deep gentle voice, she turned around and faced the man infront of her.

"Ser Harwin"

Harwin Strong bow to her, his large hand reaching for her as he pressed his lips on her knuckles. Gwayne's face on the other hand grimaced at the sigh, he was not liking the sigh he was having.

"I pass by outside and I saw you and thought I should pay you a visit" Harwin replied.

Elaerys smiled bitterly "How ironic that you only thought of that now" it came out as a whisper but Harwin clearly heard it.

"I will be away for a very long time darling" he tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear, before he softly cupped her cheeks.

Elaerys expected that she would melt as soon as he does that but she felt nothing instead her eyes looked for Gwayne, as soon as they locked their eyes Gwayne looked away like he saw nothing.

"I do not see any reason for you to inform me Ser Harwin, I have thought you do not want anything to do with-" she stopped her words when Harwin leaned his forehead to hers.

"my Elaerys, forgive me for what I have done, once I come back I promise I will ask for your hand in marriage and I will fight for it no matter-"

Harwin was pushed away from her, she looked at Gwayne who had separated the both of them.

"I expect you are well known on the ethics and policies of touching the princess Ser Harwin, it is treason" Gwayne informed, he stepped forward placing her behind him.

"I meant no harm to the princess, apologies for my insolence"

Gwayne wanted to curse him, he can resist him touching her hands but leaning his forehead to hers? Acting like their a married couple? Fuck that.

Elaerys tried to defend Harwin but Gwayne keep on talking about the boundary Harwin crossed.

"Ser Gwayne, do not worry he meant no harm"

Elaerys looked at Gwayne when he faced her, she can almost read his entire face, it was mixed of emotion, hurt, anxious, possessiveness and jealousy? He was looking intently at her, like he wants to say something.

Gwayne felt his heart sank everytime Elaerys would defend this man, he looked at her with defeat and resignation.

"Ser Harwin you are dismissed" Elaerys command.

"But Elaerys-"

"May the Sevens bless you for your long journey"

Was what Elaerys only answer before she left the Godswood, Harwin gaze dropped on Elaerys fingers that swiftly pulled her knight's hand, dragging him inside the castle.

Gwayne was too clouded too realize that Elaerys was holding his hands, he tried to pull away only for the princess to tighten her grip. Soon they stopped in an empty hallway, Elaerys dropped her grasp to him.

"Ser Gwayne, what is it up with you? You don't to be yourself lately?"

"Princess you have nothing to worry about"

"What was that earlier? You dare to threaten Ser Harwin Strong?"

"He touched you princess, he was too close to you it was improper" Gwayne stood straight, defending his argument.

"Are you jealous of him?" Elaerys blurted out, it was an embarrassing question to ask.

Elaerys can see him frown, she looked away after a few minutes of no answer. "I am sorry Ser Gwayne for that I did not mean to-"

"It was more than jealousy that I felt earlier princess"

Elaerys looked at him, his head was facing down, completely avoiding her eyes.

"I had become one of the knight that broke their oath to you" he added "so when I saw you with Ser Harwin earlier with his forehead resting to yours I was...furious, I wanted to break his face and make sure he would not be able to do that to you again." her sworn protector confessed.

Gwayne sighs before he let out a plain chuckle "How can I ever resist someone like you? I cannot blame those men even Ser Harwin for falling to a such beauty" he added, his words delivered compliments but its voice was filled with hurt.

Gwayne bowed before he excused himself, Elaerys was left there frozen, not a single word even left her lips, she was too stunned to his confession.

Gwayne was no where to be seen the rest of the day after their encounter, Elaerys searched for him, she even asked the servants and other kingsguard but they all said that they did not saw him.

Elaerys has to express herself to him too, he has to know what she felt for him.

Elaerys gave up and was taking rest on her chamber when there was a knock on her doors, she let them in and it revealed Rhaenyra.

"Father....he summons you in the throne room" Rhaenyra informed a comforting smile carved on her lips.

"For what?" She asked but Rhaenyra only shrugged, with a complaining groan, Elaerys stood up before walking with her sister through their way inside the throne room.

As the door opened, the two princess walked infront of the king as they bowed.

"Ah my daughter Elaerys I would like you to meet Lord Cregan Stark, from the North son and heir of Lord Stark" Viserys introduced, the man Cregan walked up to her and bow.

"An honor to meet you princess" he politely greeted.

He looked like a chivalrous man, well men from the North tends to be more honorable than men from here.

"Lord Cregan is here to begin his courtship to you" Elaerys eyes widened at her father's last words.

"Since you have not found someone you wish to marry than I already find one for yours, Lord Cregan is your betrothed from now on" the King commanded.

The princess fisted her hands, "I do not wish to marry him your grace"

"you will not disobey your king, Elaerys"

Elaerys stepped back away from Cregan and face the King.

"Forgive me your grace but I do not plan marrying Lord Cregan and be sent to the North after?"

Viserys looked at Rhaenyra signing her to stop and convince her sister but Rhaenyra looked away like she saw nothing.

"Elaerys, Ser Cregan will protect you"

"By how? Isolating me in a cold place? Father I am a dragon why would you put a fire in a place like North?"

Viserys stood up, even his Hand try his best to calm him down Viserys refused. Elaerys breathed out composing the right words to deliver her message.

"Father...I have someone in my mind that I wish to marry, forgive me" Elaerys said before walking out of the room, she felt suffocated.

Viserys on the other hand was left with frustration, he have thought he would not have a hard time finding a match for his daughter.

"The princess is probably exhausted your grace, her young mind is new to the reality of betrothal and marriage" Rhaenyra defense.

"She said she wish to marry someone, do you know who is this man?"

The people inside the room waited for her answer, she can feel cold sweats forming on her forehead, the King's Hand spoke.

"News had spread in the previous months ago your grace said that the princess Elaerys was caught visiting the quarter of the City Watch and she is often caught in the presence of the Lord Commander of City Watch" Otto announced.

"Saying such gossip and stories about my sister is treason my Lord Hand" Rhaenyra pointed out.

Otto face formed in a small sly smile. "I am only informing the King of what people inside the Keep see, some said the Lord Commander was saw leaving the princess chamber in the middle of the night-"

"Are you questioning my daughter's virtue Otto?"

The Hand stopped his sentence, shock and defeat spread on his face. "I mean no offense you grace"

"Rhaenyra I need to know who is this man?" Viserys turned his attention back to his eldest.

When Rhaenyra did not answered he spoke again. "I command you Rhaenyra, is it true that Harwin had defile your sister?"

"Sevens! No Father!"

"Then what is the truth-"

"She intends to marry Ser Gwayne!"

A loud silence occupied them, Viserys mouth half opened, the shock om Otto's face was a pure sight.

"Elaerys came to me one night, she was scared when she confessed to me that she wanted to marry Gwayne, she said she was afraid of how you will react and what you will do to them" Rhaenyra added more, her head remained high directly looking to the King.

"Gwayne Hightower he poisoned your sister's mind, he seduced her!" Viserys turned to Otto, grabbing the collar of his clothes. "Your son dare to disrespect me by breaking his vow is this the reason why he resigned and decided to go back in Oldtown?"

Otto wanted to unalive him right there, "Your grace I know nothing about this"

Rhaenyra frowned, Ser Gwayne resigned to his position?

****

Elaerys was running through the halls looking for any signs of him but she failed, she visited the quarters of Kingsguard but he was no where to be seen. When she lost her hope, she saw her sister Rhaenyra walking fast towards her.

"Elaerys, Ser Gwayne he is on his horse going back to Oldtown, he resigned to his position" she informed.

"How did you know?" Elaerys looked at her sister the smiled cheekily.

"I tell you later, for now go and find Ser Gwayne and bring him back here." Rhaenyra said before turning back against her.

Elaerys wasted no time as she mounted her dragon Silverwing, as she settle on its back they immediately flee on the sky.

Silverwing was a quick dragon, looking down the ground she searched for any sign of him, she see a few men in horseback with their Hightower sigil, she lead Silverwing towards them.

Gwayne was occupied ever since they left in King's Landing, the King was curios and uneasy when he humbly resigned his position, he had to come up with several reasons. The King even mentioned how he did well on his job.

If he only knew.

He did not want to leave King's Landing, he did not want to leave her, but resigning and leaving his position is the only proper way he could ask for her hand.

His head turned when he heard a voice calling him from behind, he stopped his horse as he saw the princess dismounting her dragon.

"Ser Gwayne" she called her out, Gwayne dismounted himself from his horse as soon as she approached him.

"Princess, what made you come here?" He said bowing his head.

Elaerys raised an eyebrow, crossing her arm as she spoke. "Where are you going?"

His head remained face on the ground, a small smile forming on his lips. "Back to Oldtown princess, the King approved my resignation"

"You are sworn to me Gwayne" Elaerys uttered, she pushed back her hair as she continue "You took a personal vow to me, and now you leaving without even informing me?"

"I see the princess wasn't too intoxicated to remember that" he smirked, he stepped closer to her facing her intense gaze. "Tell me princess, do you wish for me to stay?"

This may be greedy or selfish of him, but he wants to hear her admit it, he wants to hear her say that she wish for him to stay, to stay and be close with each other.

"Gwayne do not leave me" Elaerys was able to utter those words earning a small smile from Gwayne.

"I will come back princess, I have to leave my position in order to properly ask for your hand" he explained, as he tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear.

He lay his forehead against hers, while he reached for her hand and pressed a kiss on her knuckles before guiding it to wrap around his neck. For a moment peace surrounded them, feeling the warmth of breathe of each other, their skins touching.

"This is how I always dreamed about you princess, leaning on each other, with your face close to me, hands intertwined" he described, his eyes dropping to her lips. He can feel the princess' pulling him closer, her lips claimed his.

Gwayne can feel his heart melt, his hands moved to cup her cheeks, this is all he could ask for.

Elaerys massage the back of his head as they kiss, her heart won't stop beating fast, when they pulled away both catching breathe. Elaerys was flustered after the kiss, she looked away from him her hand remained to where it is.

"Do not ever leave no matter in what circumstances Gwayne"

Gwayne held her chin, making her face him. "I truly haven't forgot my vow, princess" he chuckles.

Gwayne took her hand, as he kneel infront of her. "I am sworn to you Elaerys Targaryen, I will give my very last breath to no one but you, I shall offer my heart and soul to no one else but you..."

Gwayne looked up to her while he rose from his knee and place a kiss on the back of her hand.

"For I am yours princess."

*~🌼

#hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #daemon targeryan #fanfic #gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne higtower x you #gwayne hightower fanfic #gwayne x reader #gwayne hightower #house of the dragons #hotd season 2 #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #gwayne hightower imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #girlblogging #harwin strong x reader #harwin strong imagine #hotd s2

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tomriddleslovergirl · 4 months

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House of the Dragon characters with a s/o that hates Targaryens

Warnings: Yandere behavior, violating boundaries, mentions of bullying

Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen:

Daemon and Rhaenyra take great pride in their Valyrian roots, so they get considerably annoyed whenever you complain about Targaryens and their traditions (Daemon more so).

Though they understand why, they will still try to get you to fall in love with their Targaryen heritage and traditions.

Rhaenyra and Daemon will take you on dragon rides, read you stories about their ancestors, and Daemon may sing to you in Valyrian. Though Daemon will only get to hum a song to you on days you are considerably more tired and can’t bring yourself to argue with them.

If you still continue to reject them, they’ll just have to take full control of the situation and disregard your wants.

They’ll send a letter to your mother and father, saying that they want your hand in marriage, and what fool would reject such a proposal from the Queen and Prince Consort?

Aegon Targaryen:

Aegon enjoys the luxuries that come with being a Targaryen prince, but he hates a few of the things that come with it; like the expectations, and being forced to marry Helaena.

Many other Lords and Ladies have tried getting on his “good” side because of his status, but not you. You avoid him whenever he is near, and have told him (as nicely as you possibly could) that you’re not a fan of him or his family.

Aegon finds this much too entertaining, and will try to seduce you into forgetting your “vow” of never getting into a relationship with a Targaryen.

Aemond Targaryen:

Aemond is desperate to be accepted by you. Though he is a Targaryen, you have never failed to show him respect even though you are not a fan of his family.

Other people have made fun of him for not claiming a dragon, or for only having one eye, but you haven’t.

Though Aemond won’t give up his full interest in his Targaryen ancestry, he will tone it down when around you, and will hope that would be enough for him to be an exception for your hate for Targaryens.

Aemond can’t change the fact that he's a Targaryen, just like how he can’t change the fact he has one eye, but he hopes you will love him like you would any other man.

A/N: this was requested but I accidently deleted the ask😭😭

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x y/n #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x y/n #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x y/n #Rhaenyra targaryen #daemyra x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader

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jamespotterismydaddy · 1 year

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Lord Husband (Chapter 1)

Cregan x reader

A/N: this is just gonna be a miniseries methinks

word count: 1,171

Next chapter

Series Masterlist

“You look like an angel, my love.” Rhaenyra says as the handmaidens pin back your hair but you don’t feel like an angel; you feel like a pawn.

You have been meeting with suitors for nearly four moons and none have seemed to be good enough for you. Lannisters are too proud, Tullys bore you, and you can’t stand a single person with the name Baratheon. Your mother said that she was showing you a great kindness in allowing you to choose, a kindness that she didn’t appreciate enough when the young queen had the chance. You don’t care. You know you are just like she was when she was younger. You often wear that with pride but you know what it means in this scenario. You’re ‘too stubborn to appreciate what has been given to you’. Rhaenyra gave you the opportunity but she was no longer patient. A husband had to be chosen.

“Winterfell is very far.” Is all you say in response.

“Lord Stark is a good man. I would not have chosen him for you if I wasn’t sure of it.” She presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Just walk through the gardens with him. Get to know the man who will be your husband.” She pets your hair in a loving manner. You can’t seem to understand that she would only have the best for you, her only daughter.

You have yet to meet Cregan Stark but you already hate him, your betrothed, the man who will whisk you away from your family to the cold North. You resent the freedoms he is taking from you. You resent being separated from your family. You resent everything about him.

“He will treat you well, sweet girl. I know it.” You stand up now, wrapped in a silk gown and decorated with jewellery like a lovely little present for him. When you get to the gardens, he is already waiting for you with a blinding smile on his face. You have to admit that he is incredibly handsome. He is tall and his physique looks strong from years of training with the sword. A real Northern man.

“Princess, it is my pleasure to meet you. Our engagement brings great honour to my house.” He walks over to stand in front of you and you let him take your hand up for a kiss, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Lord Stark.” Your voice is cold which seems to surprise him ever so slightly. You don’t give him a chance to say much else as you begin to walk through the gardens, leaving him in your dust. He looks at you in a bit of a stupor before quickly following after his pretty betrothed.

“Would you like to take my arm, princess?” He politely offers his right arm to you. How proper.

“No.” You say simply as he speeds up a bit to stay in step with you.

“No?” He looks a little confused but chalks it up to teenage girls being a little strange. You give him no other response so he makes another attempt at conversation. “Have you ever visited Winterfell?”

“No.” He awaits to hear a sentiment of your excitement to see it soon but is disappointed when none comes.

“I am sure you will love it. It’s beautiful when there's a fresh dusting of snow on the ground. I’d say it’s the greatest place in all of Westeros but I suppose i’m biased.” He grins, mostly to himself, and then looks at you, hopeful for more of a response.

“Hmm.” Is all you offer as a reply. Cregan finds himself dejected at his future wife’s lack of interest and he tries his best to shake it off.

“It does get cold of course but you’ll be more than warm enough in the castle. Most actually find it very cozy.” He gives you another smile that likely has most women melting in a puddle at his feet. For some reason it just irritates you more.

“Dragons don’t do well in the cold.” Your curt reply makes him cringe. He can’t understand what has given you such a sense of distaste towards him. Things are silent for a moment. He has no idea how to respond directly to your comment.

“Do you have any hobbies?” Another attempt it seems. The question makes you sigh. What a boring change of subject.

“We don’t really need to speak.” You shock him with your words, with your bratty attitude. He’d expected you to be entitled but he didn’t expect you to be outright rude. He is a lord after all, the Warden of the North. He deserves some sense of courtesy from you.

“That is going to be difficult seeing as how we are to be wed.” He scoffs and you begin to fiddle with the rings that decorate your fingers.

“The only thing you need from me in this marriage is to fill my belly with your heirs.” You say. You know it’s harsh but it isn’t necessarily untrue. He seems to be taken aback slightly by your words.

“You don’t wish to get to know the man you’re going to marry?” He asks in disbelief. He seems like a romantic. You didn’t think people of nobility were allowed to be romantics. Though, simply knowing your husband better is a sad definition of romanticism.

“You ask many questions.” You roll your eyes and he does his best to hold his tongue and not say something stupid.

“And you answer practically none, princess.” There was a bit of bite in his words. He clearly believes that you’re acting like a spoilt child.

Awkward silence fills the space between you both. You wonder if he may apologise to you and he earns a bit more of your respect because he doesn’t. It’s quiet for quite some time and you try to walk faster so that you may get to the end of the gardens before he tries to make conversation again. He never does and it isn’t long before the promenade comes to an untimely finish.

“Good day to you, my lord.” Poor Lord Stark looks like he’s rethinking all of his life choices when you say the words to him. What an ill fate for the man, marrying a cold Targaryen princess.

“To you as well, princess.” You don’t lift your hand up for him to kiss again and based on the fact that he looks like a kicked puppy, you know that he wanted to.

You leave quickly. You did your duty… technically. Your mother asked you to walk through the gardens with him and you did. Mayhaps you simply forgot about the getting to know him part. You wonder if he will retract his proposal, but who would ever retract a proposal to a princess? Maybe you’re delaying the inevitable, maybe you’re just full of old fashioned Targaryen spite but you have no wish to create a relationship with the man you’re meant to marry.

taglist(comment to be added): @valeskafics @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies

#lord husband #cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan fic #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fic

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shesjustanothergeek · 1 month

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The Gods We Can Touch Chapter Six: Salt and Blood

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: Alright, everyone. This is the last time you'll see baby Aemond and the reader, so let's cherish it. In the next chapter, we will start where the show did with the characters aged up in Ep. 8. I'm very excited to write for adult MC. I'm not going to lie; I'm a bit worried about writing Aemond's inner dialogue, as I've never written for a male character who isn't obsessed with the reader, but I'm sure I'll do fine. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Alicent being delulu, parentified sibling trauma, and watch me make you feel even worse about Driftmark.

As you journeyed from the gloomy corridors of the Red Keep to the sulfuric atmosphere of Dragonstone and now to the sandy shores and scattered shells of Driftmark, an air of sadness seemed to cling to you wherever you went. You stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing down at the tranquil sea, overlooking the stone coffin that cradled your late Aunt Laena. Two deaths, each carrying its weight of sorrow, yet only one mourned.

You wondered what it would be like to die choked in flames like Ser Harwin and Lyonel Strong did. Would it be the same as suffering dragon fire like your Aunt? Most likely not. Hers was a swift burning of flesh from bones, while theirs was hours of agony and suffocation.

Despite what your family claimed, the idea of dying to your own dragon’s flames wasn’t an appealing end to you. It didn’t seem noble like how stories explained it to be. It was horrifying to have your skin torched from your body, to feel the power of a thousand suns on your flesh. It would be excruciatingly painful, and you wished it upon no one, not even those you despised most. You would much rather meet the Stranger in your sleep.

You barely settled into your new home on Dragonstone before your mother received the two ravens. One bringing news of Ser Harwin and the other of Laena, containing death in the ink. You consoled your mother and father as best you could, hugging and kissing and telling them that you loved them and were sorry. It was an impossible task to do, but you couldn’t help yourself. You hated seeing them so distraught and wanted to make them feel better.

At night, you cried into your pillows in your now isolated bedroom until Jace and Luke entered, watery eyes matching yours. As the eldest, it was your job to hold your family together when your parents couldn’t, and it left you no time to properly grieve the loss of an Aunt and a father figure.

You felt terrible for your cousins Baela and Rhaena. To go to bed one night and wake up the next without a mother was a depth of grief you couldn’t imagine. You didn’t think you could live a life without your mother; you would die with her, and the ability of your cousins to continue without her was admirable as you observed their sullen faces streaked with tears.

Your Great Uncle Vaemond spoke his sermon in High Valyrian, which was too fast and practiced for you to understand. You could decipher some words here and there, but ultimately, you were lost listening to a man you rarely met. You felt your mother straighten her stance from behind, her arms coming to circle the three of you in a protective embrace.

Vaemond’s eyes were on yours, Luke’s, and Jace’s, but everyone else was focused on him—on the coffin with Lady Laena’s face carved into it.

As your eyes wandered to the other people surrounding the funeral procession, fear struck you as you caught your eldest uncle’s eye. It wasn’t very comforting to see Aegon so soon. You had set it in your mind that you wouldn’t have to see him for many years, and yet, here you were, dressed in an obsidian and red-sleeved gown, pearls adorning the collar and your veiled headpiece. Quickly, you turned away, instinctually taking Jace’s hand in yours.

An air of stiffness surrounded your family that you weren’t blind to. It was always there, but now, more than before, you felt it. You thought it was childish to be so locked into familial drama when someone lay dead inside a casket. Though you didn’t remember much of the times you met your Aunt Laena, she still deserved the respect of putting these grievances aside. You knew you were part of it, but more important things were happening than what you suffered.

The cries of your father sent waves of sadness into your heart, and with the sudden urge to get him to stop, you left the safety of your brother and clung to your father’s waist. He lifted you into his sea-worn arms and clung to your frail body as if it was the only thing that kept him from sinking into his grief. You rested your temple onto his shoulder, tears of empathy falling from your eyes as he pressed your head closer.

Afraid of what would become of your father if you let go, you allowed him to crush you in his embrace for as long as he needed it as a scornful laugh broke through the tense atmosphere. You peeked from your position to see Great Uncle Daemon chuckling to himself with a shake of his head at what Vaemond said. You felt annoyance bubble inside you, solidifying your distaste for the man as the Velaryon guards clad in silver armor and blue seahorse sigils lifted the ropes and lowered your Aunt into the roaring sea.

You didn’t leave your father’s side for the remainder of the day, not even when he slowly lowered himself into the sea with his sister as the cold, salty breeze swept through the evening. You wanted to speak with Aemond, if just for a small moment, but your family came first. They always came before anyone else, a fact that your mother instilled into the very fabric of your being.

Sitting atop one of the rock ledges near your father, you dipped your feet into the saltwater, dragging your toes to watch the water ripple and allow time to pass. It didn’t feel right to leave him alone. The image of him falling into the ocean as your Aunt played repeatedly in your mind’s eye. You were afraid in his grief, he would follow her. Only when your father’s squire, Ser Qarl, took your father from his place with his sister did you leave, joining the rest of the goers for the wake late in the evening.

Searching through the crowd of people for your mother and your brothers, you couldn’t find them. Alone with none of your family for protection, you felt fear pull at your chest. Your hands began to scratch at your arms and scalp, attempting to quell the insatiable itch. The fabric prevented you from doing so, and tears of fright soon began to collect at your lashes.

From across the balcony, you saw a flash of green, a color that had never offered you comfort until now. Yet as quickly as you saw it, it vanished, leaving only a head of white promptly running down the stairs. You felt your heart drop into your feet as you watched Aemond run across the sandy dunes like he was running from you.

The call of a dragon you never heard before screeched through the gray skies. It was mournful as if it were calling for a lost pet or child. In this case, it was a rider. As you looked up, you could see the vast shadow of Vhagar’s silhouette soaring through the clouds, flying in the same direction your uncle went. You felt your eyes grow wide with worry at the realization, wanting to chase after Aemond and warn him.

“Let’s get you to bed,” a tender, feminine voice came from behind you as you jolted in surprise. The tall figure of Queen Alicent stood before you, curly auburn hair pinned back into a magnificent updo and clad in her usual green and gold as she put a hand on your back. “Your mother already sent your brothers.”

“Where is she?” you hastily asked. Aemond was no longer on your mind.

“I’m uncertain. Your father is off drowning his sorrow in his cups with his squire,” she answered in the same velvet voice you remembered her having, bitterness you didn’t understand laced in the undertone.

You felt offended by how the Queen spoke about your father. He was grieving. He was allowed to spend time with whomever he wished, doing what he wanted.

Alicent lifted her arm, wrapping it around your petite frame, and led you inside Hightide. It was not as cold or formidable as Dragonstone; its dark magic melted into the walls, yet it didn’t hold the warmth of the Red Keep. Still, you felt unwelcomed here, either by the place or its people. The pale stone walls were filled with bits and pieces of shells from clams, mollusks, and other long-dead shell creatures mixed into the mortar to make it stand the test of salty air.

The Hall of the Nine, where you passed as Queen Alicent, led you to the guest chambers, where you held the Driftwood throne where your grandfather Corlys reigned. You recalled when you visited this place many years ago and how he went on about the many treasures from his sieges and conquests that decorated the room in all its glory. He and his wife, Rhaenys, sat in a heated discussion in front of the hearth.

Once you reached the door to your shared bed chambers with your brothers, Alicent turned to you. It was the first time you had seen her since what Aegon had done to you, and you felt tension. It seemed as if she wanted to speak, to say everything that had been bottled up since the revelation of her son’s transgressions, but she was unable to do so as tears choked her. Instead, the only words that came out were those she couldn’t say to her children.

“I hope you can find the time to visit the Keep. Helaena asked when you would be returning, and it broke my heart to tell her you wouldn’t be,” she confided, stroking the thin black fabric covering your dark hair. “Aemond has turned inwards since you left, and Aegon has become crueler to him. It makes me wonder if he’s always been this way and that my love for him has blinded me from his transgressions.”

You said nothing. The mention of Aegon’s name still felt like a blow to the stomach. “I hope you can find it within your heart to forgive my son for what he did to you and that we may yet be the family we were always meant to be.” Your tongue felt like lead as your breathing began to race, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as Alicent kneeled before you, a sad smile on her supple lips as she tenderly swiped your tear-stained cheeks with her smooth thumbs.

“I love you, my shining light, my dream.”

Leaning in, she took your small frame by your shoulders, kissing your forehead as one would do to their babe. You felt sick, nausea churning in your stomach as you quickly opened the bedroom door, hastily shutting it behind you in fright.

It was all too much—Lady Laena’s death, Ser Harwin’s, seeing your father in shambles, and Queen Alicent’s steadfast belief that you should become a part of her family no matter what happened to you. The Queen desired to wed you and Aegon despite the horrors he committed. The realization that she genuinely didn’t see what your eldest uncle did to you as something that would permanently bar you from joining the union pierced your heart. You would much rather marry Aemond or Helaena, but having no ties to her seemed better.

Your brothers peered at you curiously from their beds as you clutched your chest, looking as if you ran the entire way here. They didn’t ask any questions, and you didn’t move to speak, loosening the ties of your gown and shrugging it off until you were only in your smock. You didn’t feel like changing into your nightdress in front of your brothers, deciding to climb into bed and shove your face into the pillows, refusing to cry in front of Jace and Luke as you fell into a dreamless sleep.

When Aemond learned of Lady Laena’s death, he knew it was a sign from the Gods that his time had come. The Seven had deemed this the moment to prove himself to everyone who doubted him and thought him useless without a dragon.

Vhagar.

The largest, oldest, and strongest dragon in the world was riderless.

Aemond believed that once he gained the only thing he lacked, life would finally be what it should have been. He would make his father proud, shove all the taunts and jests from Aegon and his nephews back into their faces, and finally become a man you deemed worthy—your Mors Martell.

As Aemond fled from the wake when the candles had long melted, he thought only of the ichor coursing through his veins. Dusk was upon the island, and the night’s wind blew harshly, strands of his silver-blonde hair covering his face as he climbed over the dunes. Vhagar was further from the castle than he initially thought.

“Fuck.” Aemond released a sigh of exasperation and scrambled across the uneven ground.

When he came upon the dragon, he was in awe. Vhagar was as frightening as she was enormous—a giant, green-scaled, moving mountain that shook the ground and blew sand with every movement and breath from her powerful lungs.

Taking advantage of Vhagar’s resting state, Aemond crept along the sparse grass, feeling each gust of air she created with her wide nostrils, blowing the sand into his face and ears. Anxiety was present in his gut, feeling a slight tremble in his limbs as he closed the distance, wrapping his hand around one of the many ropes draped across Vhagar’s scales. Suddenly, he felt the ground underneath him quake, and the head of the dragon lifted with a low rumble.

Vhagar observed Aemond with tired yet calculating amber orbs, double eyelids blinking. She grumbled as she bore her teeth to him. They were the size of a fully grown adult, sending a shiver down his spine. As if it were an act of divine intervention, Vhagar laid her enormous head back down, seeming disinterested in the young boy before her.

If Lady Laena’s death wasn’t proof enough Aemond was fated by the Gods to claim a dragon, the most powerful beast in the world, laying its head in acquiescence certainly was. Blinded by his small victory, nerves still in his mind, he reached for the rope ladder again, only for Vhagar to raise her head and growl, low and deep. A snarl formed on her great maw as Aemond stumbled back in shock and saw the light of orange flames gather at the back of her throat.

“Dohaerās!” (Serve!) he shouted instinctively, recalling the many lessons he observed in the Dragonpit as he felt the heat of fire on his countenance. “Dohaerās, Vagus! Lykirī!” (Serve, Vhagar! Be calm!)

With Aemond’s commands, the she-dragon relaxed, recalling her flames and closing her mouth. She purred to him like a cat, a sign that she approved his merit while standing in the face of death. Vhagar would allow the Prince an attempt to claim her, but he must prove himself before the eyes of the Gods, before the eyes of a dragon.

Aemond took the ropes and climbed atop the mighty Vhagar’s back, positioning himself in the saddle and grabbing the reigns.

“Sōvēs!” (Fly!) Aemond ordered, and Vhagar rumbled, raising her legs and shaking the sand from her scales. “Sōvēs!”

She obeyed, taking a few giant steps and flapping her great wings, pushing off from the ground and leaving a sandstorm in her wake. Though Aemond told Vhagar to fly, he still had yet to control her as she took to the night sky in a near-vertical position, catching him unaware. The force knocked him from the leather saddle, leaving him dangling in the air with just the reigns for purchase. Aemond screamed with fear, feeling as if his stomach lurched out of his body as he struggled against the whipping wind to regain control.

She tested him as he grabbed the pommel, sat upright, and pulled the ropes to balance her. He felt like he was on a bucking horse, loosening, tightening, twisting, and turning to the left and right to steer her safely. Vhagar ignored Aemond’s movements and continued to fly like he wasn’t there, diving into the dunes of Driftmark before he reared her upwards, dragging her claws across the sand. He squealed in terror, blocking the debris that scratched his face as she soared over the sea.

Aemond knew he needed to prove himself to her, to show the war-hardened dragon that he deserved to ride her. Her chirps and groans from the day earlier called to him like nothing before, singing to the Prince in her dragon song of forlornness and isolation. Perhaps that was why he felt compelled to claim her. They both shared that feeling of loneliness deep within their souls, that same oddness in their families. The dragoness was too large to be held within any structure, leaving her in forced solitude, her only companions being her rider. Aemond was the only one, despite his Valyrian features, not to have a dragon.

That would no longer be his story.

Aemond fortified his mind and will, putting his soul into his movements as he lifted Vhagar higher in the sky. He could feel the blood of Old Valyria coursing through his veins as the mighty dragon obeyed, leveling out her vast wings and soaring over Spicetown and back to Driftmark. He screamed with fear and joy as she flew with him in the skies, a bright smile he was sure you could see in Lannisport.

Aemond had proven himself. He had shown himself and all who doubted and bullied him for not having a dragon that he was capable, that he was worthy.

Everything was as it should be.

Perhaps you would allow him to kiss you again and spend the night in his embrace. Aemond had no doubt you would be proud of him as he listened to your assurances that he was brave, a dragon knight who you could trust with your secrets and protect you from enemies, and that he deserved your heart.

Aemond landed Vhagar with a grace he hadn’t possessed before, climbing down the rope ladder on her side with windburnt cheeks. As soon as his feet touched the sand, he ran straight to the underground caverns of High Tide to wake you and explain everything.

“Jace!”

You faintly heard a voice calling, sounding distant in your dream state. Ignoring it with a groan, you rolled over, trying to return to sleep.

“Jace, wake up! Someone stole Vhagar!”

This woke you from your sleep. You sat up to see Baela and Rhaena hovering over your brother’s bed.

“We need to stop them!”

Jace and Luke quickly threw the covers off and stuck their feet into their slippers as you observed them curiously. Rubbing the sleep from your face, you yawned, begrudgingly following them.

“You cannot steal a dragon,” you countered after a long silence in the pale stone halls, your voice laced with sleep. It felt like you had hardly gotten a wink.

“She is my mother’s dragon! I was supposed to claim her,” Rhaena countered, tears collecting in her dark eyes.

Yawning again as you followed a few paces behind your siblings and cousins, you rolled your eyes, wanting to bite with the remark, “Why didn’t you?” But you didn’t say it. The reason was apparent why she didn’t, and Rhaena didn’t need any more reason to be distraught.

They led you to the caverns of High Tide, stumbling in your sleepless state. They led to the beaches lit only by dim torchlight, your movements groggy and slightly annoyed. On the other end of the tunnel, Aemond appeared before you with a proud grin and windswept hair. You couldn’t help but mirror his expression, a contagious self-satisfaction that spread to you.

He needn’t say it aloud. You could tell by how he carried himself, shoulders back, chin high, and a slight lift to his cheeks, that your uncle claimed a dragon—the mightiest one in the world, Vhagar.

“It’s him!” Rhaena exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Aemond.

It didn’t deter him, countering with his head high, violet eyes flicking from you to your cousin. “It’s me.”

“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon!” she yelled, hurt as if this reasoning would change Vhagar’s fate. As you moved to Aemond, Jace grabbed your hand, stopping you with an anxious yet demanding look on his face.

“Your mother is dead, and Vhagar has a new rider now,” your uncle replied, and you felt your brows raise in shock. You knew better than most of the cruelty he could commit, but after spending time with Aemond and seeing the softer, gentler, and kinder side of him, it took you off guard.

“She was mine to claim!” Rhaena argued, charging toward him in a challenge. Your skin began to itch, and your breath quickened.

The hatred felt at the funeral carried over into your brothers and cousins. Tension in the air crackled like a fire in a hearth, watching the yellow and orange flames slowly dwindle into embers until someone threw tinder to spark it.

“Then you should’ve claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride,” Aemond sneered. “It would suit you.”

Your lips parted in empathetic offense as you looked from your uncle to Rhaena, tears of guilt and shame pricking at your eyes. You apologized about the pig, and you thought Aemond forgave you, but it seems he couldn’t let go of the hurt no matter how close you were. The feeling of joy for your uncle’s feat was as brief as your friendship.

With a surge of rage, Rhaena charged forward, attempting to push Aemond, but he swiftly countered, and she fell to the ground. You jumped back in shock as you covered your mouth, Luke standing beside you. Baela screamed, protecting her sister as she punched him across his face and Aemond yelped in pain. Without thinking, you went toward your uncle, fearful for his well-being in your heart, but he swiftly stood before you could reach him, returning the same swing to Baela. You gasped in horror and moved to the side, narrowly missing your cousin’s body from colliding with yours.

“Come at me again, and I’ll feed you to my dragon!” Aemond snarled at the twins, and without warning, Jace ran to him with a shout, shoving your uncle in offended anger and smacking him across the cheek.

You screamed for them to stop as you watched Luke try to join the fray, but you held him back, scared that he would get caught in the crossfire. He was the youngest and the littlest, most likely to get hurt. You needed to protect what family you could. Aemond brought this upon himself with his words of arrogance, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to defend him, too.

The scene before you was violent, a flurry of white, black, and red running atop Aemond as Luke slipped from your grasp, all pummeling, kicking, and screaming at him as you cried for them to stop. He was helpless as he suffered blow after blow, and you felt your heart splinter. This wasn’t a fair fight. Without worrying for yourself, you jumped on top of Jace, pulling him back from your uncle and giving him a chance to defend himself. You felt like a betrayer, turning against your twin to save your uncle. Your brother grunted as you both fell to the ground, his body on top of you as you struggled to keep him from fighting.

You and your siblings had fought before, but nothing like this. It was so vicious, filled with violence and want for pain, as Jace whipped his head back into yours, causing it to slam against one of the many jagged rocks across the ground, having you see stars. He went back into the brawl with no worry for your safety as you heard the unsheathing of a knife, your eyes blurry as you struggled to see the scene before you.

“You will die screaming in flames just as your father did!” Aemond yelled, suddenly holding Luke by his neck with a rock in his hand.

“My father is alive!” Luke gasped in protest, flinging his arms and blood running down his face.

You needed to get up to protect Luke from physical harm and the threat of discovering your lineage. You didn’t believe Aemond would kill Luke. He was capable of violence, but he wasn’t a murderer. As you tried to move, your skull felt filled with sand, pulling you back down to the ground as you felt the warm trickle of liquid run down your neck. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your sight and mind.

Aemond spoke again to Jace, seeming to forget your existence and holding a sense of superiority. “He doesn’t know, does he, Lord Strong?”

You forgot how cruel Aemond could be. Your stolen moments of reading and kisses in the night had closed your eyes to it.

“Aemond, don’t,” you mumbled, skull pounding as the excruciating sounds of your brothers and uncle’s shouts pierced your ears like needles.

You blinked your eyes into focus, seeing Jace wildly swinging a knife at Aemond as you managed to kneel. Your brothers didn’t realize how dangerous what they were doing was, that a knife wasn’t something to use against someone who was armed with only a stone in hand. While Aemond was bigger and had more combat experience, a dagger would kill him. Being upset because someone claimed a dragon wasn’t worth murdering over.

Reaching your arm out with a soft grunt, you grabbed Jace’s ankle as Aemond pushed him over, holding the same rock above his head as he did for Luke. You thought Aemond knew better than this. You gave him the perfect opportunity to run and get help now that Baela and Rhaena huddled into a scared, crying mess, but he was too far gone into his anger to see reason, blinded by it.

“Aemond! No!” you shouted hoarsely, trying to stand but failing as your head pounded like a drumbeat.

He turned to you then, lowering the rock to his side as he stared at you with the sudden realization of what he had done. Your uncle was filled with a surge of superiority inside him. He couldn’t think straight, and when he happened upon the five of you, people he was always told that he was above, something inside him that lay dormant finally broke free. He knew he was always capable of violence, but felt remorse when he saw your bruised nose, tear-streaked cheeks, and blood dripping down your throat.

Did he do that to you?

Suddenly, Aemond was blinded, sand thrown into his eyes as he stumbled back and heard the yell of Luke, unimaginable pain soon following. You watched in horror as your brother savagely sliced into your uncle’s left eye, blood pouring and splattering across the ground.

Aemond couldn’t remember if you were amid his attackers. He surveyed the bruised and battered bodies before him and realized what he had done as his stomach fell to his feet.

He hurt people, just like Aegon. You would never entrust your secrets to him. His hands committed violence, but his heart desired to tell a different story—one of a strong and noble prince who went through many trials and tribulations to prove himself worthy of the princess's heart.

All you could hear were screams. Screams from you, screams from Aemond as you crawled towards him, sobbing.

“Aemond!” you cried as he doubled over, falling into your body as he screeched in pain.

“It hurts!” he wailed into your chest, his free hand clawing into your back. “It hurts! Help me!”

You trembled, arms struggling to keep yourself upright against his weight as the flurry of guards rumbled inside your skull like thunder. Unable to make out their words as they moved, it seemed like you were watching the world from outside your body, from the lenses of another, as Ser Harrold pried Aemond from your embrace.

It hurt. Everything hurt—your heart, stomach, muscles, and head. You weren’t sure who led you, Baela, Rhaena, Luke, and Jace to the Hall of the Nine as a flurry of people gathered, pushing and shoving as you clutched your skull. The room was so bright, so loud, as you heard your uncle’s screams. You felt sturdy arms grab you by your shoulders, roughly moving you as if you were nothing more than a doll, as it felt like your eyes were about to burst. Steel blue fabric blocked your eyes as you saw the hazy image of a seahorse stitched into the fabric.

“Father?” You reached out, small digits feeling along the fine silk until the texture of scruff scratched at your skin. Blinking, you saw the aged face of your grandfather, Lord Corlys, as he gathered you and your brothers behind him.

Where was he, and where was your mother?

You felt sick as people scattered around you like seagulls when they discovered a bloated whale carcass, all trying to see the injured Prince, who cried until the Maester poured Milk of the Poppy down his throat. It felt like when you accidentally drank the water from Blackwater Bay, like a cold, nauseous sensation that sent beads of sweat rolling down your spine.

“I don’t feel good,” you whispered to Jace as you leaned into his side, clutching your head and gut. He paid you no mind, peering behind your grandfather to see your other one appear, bearing total weight upon his dragon-head cane.

“How could you let such a thing happen?” Viserys questioned Ser Harrold, examining Aemond as you heard the sickening squelch of flesh and rattle of metal tools. “I will have answers!”

Despite it undoubtedly being a harrowing sight, you wanted to be by your uncle, to hold his hand through it, to feel his pain with him, but you couldn’t. You needed to be with your brothers. What they saw and experienced would haunt them for the rest of their lives. Luke had taken Aemond’s eye.

“The princess and princes were supposed to be abed, my king,” the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard explained, shame woven in his words.

Viserys wouldn’t allow his knights to show such carelessness, surveying each of them with critical eyes. “Who had the watch?”

“The young prince was attacked by his cousins, your grace,” Ser Cristion nonchalantly replied. His words angered you for reasons unknown, and you felt a lump rise in your throat.

Viserys turned to the room, looking between the two Kingsguards on opposite sides of the family as he hobbled on his cane. “You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!” he boomed in a way you hadn’t seen before. You were afraid he would direct his anger at you, Jace, and Luke, wrapping your arms around them like you were in any state to protect your brothers.

“I’m very sorry, your grace,” Ser Westerling said, head hung low in unimaginable disgrace. You felt bad for him. There was no way he could have stopped this. He was doing his duty and serving his King. It was Ser Criston who should be blamed.

“The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes before, your grace-”

“That is no answer!” your grandfather yelled at Ser Criston, causing a clap of pain to thunder inside your skull.

You wanted to go to bed, sleep for eternity, and be awake to everything as it was yesterday. Your brothers and cousins unbloodied and Aemond dragonless and with an eye.

“Where’s mother?” you noiselessly questioned Jace, leaning into his ear and almost losing your footing. You needed to stay strong for them.

“It will heal, will it not? Maester?” Queen Alicent asked, velveteen voice quivering with pain for her poor son. Maester Kelvyn finished stitching Aemond’s skin, throwing the needle and thread into a bowl with your uncle’s fleshy, viscous eye.

“The flesh will heal. The eye is lost, your grace,” his nasal voice replied matter-of-factly.

You were going to be ill.

Quickly, you ran through the multitude of people, pushing past Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, who tried to stop you before you vomited all the contents of your stomach onto a person’s unsuspecting shoes. The crowd gasped in revolt, those not close to you jumping back and clutching their chests in shock. You found yourself before the fireplace, basking in its comforting warmth as you leaned onto the hearth and looked at the unlucky soul you retched on.

Perhaps the Gods had a twisted sense of justice as you saw the disgusted face of Aegon before you. You didn’t hide your amused smirk.

“Tend to the Princess!” the King shouted to the Maester, seeming to forget about his injured son and throwing his cane in your direction.

A flurry of green came before pale gray, tenderly cradling your visage in her palms as if you were her child, inspecting it. You grabbed the Queen’s wrists and attempted to push her away as if her touch burned, but she resisted, struggling against your childish strength until she grabbed your shoulders. Her touch reminded you of Aegon as you burst into tears, muscles going limp and at Queen Alicent’s mercy. She turned your head in her grasp, examining you with the utmost care that made another wave of nausea through you.

The crowd observed in anxious silence as Aemond turned to watch his mother treat you with the affection he wished to receive. Familiar hatred bloomed inside his heart, swallowing his dry mouth as he thought resentfully. He would still have his eye if he hadn’t been so concerned with you.

“I want my mother.” you whimpered, lips quivering in fear as the Queen lovingly wiped the blood from your neck.

The Queen released you from her grip as if you had struck her, chest heaving and wide brown eyes watering as she turned to her eldest son. Your mother was here; you didn’t realize it.

“Where were you?” she interrogated Aegon, smacking him upside down before he could answer.

“Ow! What was that for?” he questioned, incredulously rubbing at the afflicted area grimly. You held no sympathy for him as you hugged your sides.

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your siblings suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool!” she whispered heatedly so only he could hear, shaking his gangly body in rage. You looked at the Queen with confusion, thinking she had gone mad with grief when she said “siblings.”

As the grand Hall doors creaked open, a shaft of golden light spilled into the room, casting long shadows on the marble floor. With an air of elegance, your mother swept into the room, her silk gown trailing behind her. Following closely was Uncle Daemon, his formidable presence filling the space. Amidst the whispers and murmurs, your name and that of your brothers floated through the air, drawing your attention. Without a second thought, you moved toward her, the sensation of fingertips brushing your bicep as if a ghostly hand had tried to hold you back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Show me, show me!” your mother ordered you and Luke, softly running her digits across your body as you sobbed with relief. “Who did this?”

“They attacked me!” Aemond yelled before you could get a word out, leaning from behind his chair.

You saw his wound on full display. An ugly crisscrossed row of stitches lined up his eye socket and onto his forehead, the flesh puckered and pink as it fought the infection. Your mother moved your face before you could stare any longer as a chorus of accusations from your brothers and cousins sang. You couldn’t get the image of his gash out of your head.

“He was going to kill Jace! I didn’t do anything!�� Luke loudly shouted as you scrunched your eyes with a painful wince.

“Enough!” you heard your grandfather yell, and you looked at him with helpless, watery eyes, but no one listened.

“It should be my son telling the tale!” the Queen protested, fist pounding against her chest with conviction over the voices.

You continued to look at your grandfather in anguish, the King of The Seven Kingdoms, whom everyone ignored except you. “Silence!” he yelled, voice rattling inside his hollow chest as flem flew from his decaying mouth.

The Hall went silent, quieter than the Stranger himself, as everyone looked at one another, stunned at the turn of events. People came here to mourn the loss of a daughter, an aunt, a niece, a wife, and a sister. Viserys looked at you and then at his son, his ivory staff sounding with every movement as you swallowed, the taste of bile strong.

“He called us bastards.” you silently whispered to your mother, wiping the tears and snot from your face.

“Aemond, I will have the truth of what happened.” The King approached your uncle as he slumped into the armchair, stepping swiftly and with a newfound curiosity. “Now.”

“What else is there to hear?” Alicent questioned, clutching at her neck as tears threatened to spill. “Your son has been maimed, and her son is responsible.”

“Twas a regrettable accident,” your mother countered, moving her body to shadow the three of you from the onlookers.

“Accident?” the Queen repeated, astonished. “The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush! He meant to kill my son!”

You realized the truth didn’t matter now. All that did was what people perceived it to be.

“Twas my children who were attacked and forced to defend themselves!” your mother argued as she placed a comforting hand onto Luke’s shoulders. “Vile insults were levied against them!”

Your grandfather turned from his son to the four of you as you inhaled a shuddering breath. “What insults?” he questioned, a dangerous lilt to his tone that you had never heard before as the Hall went silent. It raised the hairs on your arms.

“The legitimacy of my children’s birth was put loudly to question,” your mother replied, her chin high yet holding a nervous waver to her voice.

As she turned towards you, your mother’s eyes conveyed a silent but insistent demand to verbalize what you previously whispered. She wished everyone to hear these words from you—the compassionate and considerate eldest daughter known as The Gods’ Light among the common folk. With tears streaming down your cheeks and your chest heaving with emotion, you gazed at Aemond with a sense of guilt. You knew the words you were about to utter would carry an extraordinary weight. Both sides sought someone to bear responsibility for the turmoil, but you recognized the unspoken truth.

At that moment, honesty seemed inconsequential. Aemond had suffered the loss of his eye due to Luke’s actions, and you keenly felt your failure to shield your brothers from harm. You would never fault at your duty again.

“He called us bastards,” you confessed, lacking the anger and conviction of your siblings as you sniffled, refusing to look at Aemond.

You watched as the Queen’s auburn tresses bounced with the slight affirming nod of her head, a look of disbelief and recognition crossing her face. At that moment, it became clear that she had informed Aemond about the deception, hardening your heart with betrayal. You had believed that she was different and loved you like family, and it stung to realize that she didn’t hesitate to spread lies that would hurt you.

“My children are to inherit the Iron Throne, your grace. This is the highest of treasons,” your mother reasoned, stepping forward to her slouched father as you attempted to reach for her hand to keep you hidden. “Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such awful slanders.”

As you gazed at your mother, her expression eerily mirroring that of Alicent’s, your lips began to quiver with unease. Was your mother implying that he should be subjected to torture? It seemed unfathomable. She couldn’t possibly be serious.

“Over an insult?” the Queen asked, shaking her head in disbelief. You knew she was trying to protect herself as you glared at the woman you once thought held the moon. “My son has lost an eye!”

“Tell me, boy. Where did you hear such lies?” the King seethed, face a hairsbreadth from Aemond as you whimpered.

“The insult was training yard bluster,” Alicent swiftly reasoned, eyes flicking desperately from her son to her husband. “The lot of boys. ‘Twas nothing-”

“Aemond,” your grandfather interrupted, ignoring his wife’s explanation. “I asked you a question.”

Your uncle sat in solemn silence, his lone violet eye unwaveringly fixed on the ground while his father awaited his reply. Before he could utter a word, the Queen unexpectedly interjected.

“Where is Ser Laenor, the children’s father? Perhaps he would have something to say on the matter,” she jeered.

Your grandfather turned, sparse brows scrunching together as he turned to Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. “Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?”

“I do not know, your grace. I… could not find sleep and decided to take a walk,” your mother answered for them, smooth palms wiping across her crimson skirt.

The Queen let out a derisive laugh, her disbelief evident as she shook her head at her old friend. It was impossible to ignore the precise timing of Daemon’s arrival into the Hall of the Nine, trailing just moments behind Rhaenyra with her tousled strands of golden hair. Alicent bore the knowledge of her friend’s calculated machinations, even as Rhaenyra’s children stealthily slipped out of their beds to perpetrate the heinous act of maiming her son. She couldn’t dismiss the nagging suspicion that Ser Laenor was likely engaged in equally treacherous activities.

“Entertaining his young squires, I presume,” Queen Alicent sneered like before, making you feel the same deep-seated ire.

As no one dared to voice their opposition to her words, a glint of silver caught your eye from the corner, revealing Ser Criston Cole’s silent laughter. Like Ser Harwin, you felt the urge to wipe that smug grin off his tanned face, even though you knew it was impossible.

“Aemond, look at me. Your King demands an answer,” your grandfather began, staggering before your uncle. “Who spoke the lies to you?”

Everything went silent; the roaring of the fire and the crashing of the waves in the darkness were all that could be heard in the Hall. You understood that whoever Aemond implicated might not live til the next morn. You felt your throat grow tight and struggled to breathe, clutching at your throat as you swallowed the acrid taste in your mouth. Queen Alicent told him as you recalled the time in Helaena’s room. It confused you at first why she would spread such gossip as she seemed to hold a tenderness for you. Claiming your brothers were bastards went without saying you were, but you realized that whatever contempt she had within her heart weighed far more significant than any affection for you.

Some of you wished to shout that it was her, but you realized that was something Alicent would do without a second thought if the roles were reversed, and you did not want to be like her. She was wicked and cruel, just like her eldest.

“It was Aegon. He told Aemond to call us that,” you answered as every pair of eyes flocked to you. You didn’t like how close your grandfather was to him, afraid that he might strike him for the consequences of his mother. You felt your heart lurch into your throat as you gained the courage to speak the words aloud of all the bad things he did to you. “And he… he”

Before you could finish, your mother tucked you into her waist, kneeling and pushing your face into her shoulder. You tried to pull away from her when his hand rested on your head, the welt sensitive to touch.

“Don’t,” she whispered into your hair, disguising it as a kiss. They deserved to know. Everyone needed to know what awful Aegon did to you. You wanted to move against her, but your mind was foggy and muscles weak.

“Me?” Aegon exclaimed with shock, wide amethyst orbs looking at you with a broken expression.

“And you, boy,” your grandfather crept towards him, the rhythmic tapping of his cane piercing your skull like an ice pick. “Where did you hear such calumnies?” Your uncle refused to answer him as his gaze bore holes into your being. There was no remorse in your heart for him. “Aegon, tell me the truth of it!” Viserys shouted, causing you to flinch and cover your ears.

“We know, father,” Aegon replied fearlessly, refusing to remove his stare from your quivering form. “Everyone knows. Just look at them.”

Feeling the stares from the guests, you admired your uncle for not implicating his mother like a coward, removing your body from your mother, wiping the snot from your lip. Let them look, you thought, inhaling a deep breath as you felt your mother bring you closer. They would stare at you for the rest of your days. It was best if you grew accustomed to it now.

“This interminable infighting must cease!” the King declared, banging his walking stick off the pale stone floor. “All of you! We are family! Now, make your apologies and show goodwill to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your King demands it.”

You grimaced at his words, and though you loved your grandfather, having been his favorite granddaughter, you disagreed with him. You refused to apologize for your family trying to defend themselves, and the Queen couldn’t help but agree more.

“That is insufficient,” Alicent said, gesturing to her son. “Aemond has been damaged permanently, my King. Goodwill cannot make him whole.”

Aemond’s fingers dug into the wooden framing of the armchair, and your chin quivered at the thought of what he might be feeling.

“I know, Alicent,” Viserys sighed, “but I cannot restore his eye.”

“No, because it’s been taken,” she sobbed, clutching at her chest, flicking her hair back in a manner that reminded you of Aegon. “There is a debt to be paid. I shall have the hand of her eldest to one of my sons. To mend the rift and unite the House of the Dragon once more.”

“Alicent,” your grandfather breathed in a warning, yet still turned to his daughter, having a hint of hope in his violet eyes.

You looked at your mother, shock overcoming any sadness you felt as she shoved you behind her skirts like a hen would do to her chick, too stunned to speak. “I refuse.”

The Queen shook her head, a sneer curling her plump lips and wet cheeks. Rhaenyra was a selfish, wicked woman with no inclination of decency. Why couldn’t she see this would be solved if she returned Alicent’s rightful daughter to her? The Queen steeled herself to the belief that she would have to fight for her right to have you. She knew deep in her bones that you would one day be by her side.

“Then I shall have one of her sons’ eyes in return. The Princess is innocent,” the Queen declared with a desperate wave of tears.

Aemond looked to his mother, face impassive, and senses dulled from Milk of the Poppy. He didn’t recall telling her about what you did for him, though it was very little. It felt like he was becoming a second thought to his mother, who seemed only to be scheming on how to insert his niece into their lives. Aemond realized then that he would always be second in his mother’s heart to you, and he felt hollow at the thought, the love that once filled it for his niece ceasing to exist.

“Do not allow your temper to guide your judgment,” your grandfather warned Queen Alicent. She said nothing as her chest heaved, brown orbs flicking between her husband and old friend.

Believing the matter finished, the King backed away, but Alicent wouldn’t allow this to be the end. She looked to her sworn protector, an apathetic expression on her visage.

“If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.” Ser Criston looked to the Queen with a startled expression as Luke cried for your mother. “He can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son.”

“You will do no such thing,” your mother steadfastly declared, ensuring the three of you were behind her.

“Stay your hand,” the King commanded as the Queen shook with rage, desperately looking between her husband and sworn protector. She reminded you of a deer cornered in a vast forest, listening to the distant howls of wolves closing in for the hunt.

“No, you are sworn to me!” she yelled, finger pointing to her chest indignantly. All waited for the knight to respond, the Lord Commander slowly bringing his hand to the hilt of his sword.

“Protect your brother,” your mother whispered, never straying her eyes from the Queen. Without further instruction, you stood before Luke, gradually backing him away from the group of people unnoticed. You understood Alicent would not hurt you, as did your mother.

“As your protector, my Queen,” Ser Criston replied with a wary head tilt.

“Alicent, this matter is finished. Do you understand?” your grandfather declared, seething, his face centimeters away from his wife before he addressed the room. “And let it be known that if anyone’s tongue dares to question, the birth of Rhaenyra’s children should have it removed.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, you let go of Luke, coming to take your place beside your mother as she thanked the King. The unsheathing of a blade cut through the room as the form of Queen Alicent charged toward your family, startling you, the King’s ancestral dagger in her grasp. Luke screamed as she reached the four of you, but your mother stepped in her path before Alicent could enact her rage.

Suddenly, a person shoved into you, disregarding your existence as you found yourself on the floor. You noticed how the stone seemed to ebb and wave like the flow of the tide. Lord Corlys appeared beside you, lifting you into his arms, securely bound around your torso as he took you into the circle of your cousins and brothers, your mother struggling against the Queen.

“You’ve gone too far!” your mother admonished the Queen as tears burned her eyes. She pushed against Alicent, and she jerked against her, trying to get to your brother.

“I?” Queen Alicent exclaimed, voice thick with anguish as you attempted to push out of your grandfather’s arms, kicking your legs into his side. “What have I done, but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, and the law while you flout to do as you please?”

“Alicent, let her go!”

The Queen still poised the dagger to strike, its new path being that of the heir to the Iron Throne as your mother looked helplessly to the onlookers. No one made to separate the two as they all stared in shock, the fire illuminating their faces like wraiths of death. Landing a hard smack to Lord Corlys’s neck, he dropped you as you shoved through the onlookers toward your mother. She put her life for yours and your brothers, but who would put hers before theirs?

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? My happiness and dreams? It’s templed under your pretty foot again!” the Queen sobbed, her form trembling with hurt and rage, everything that she bottled inside her for years.

“Release the blade, Alicent,” Lord Otto commanded, a man you hadn’t met until this morn, but she paid him no mind, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she pushed against her old friend.

“Wasn’t taking her, my only light, enough for you? And now you take my son’s eye, and to that, you feel entitled,” she confessed, tears making the Queen’s mouth thick with wetness as you shouldered your way to the inner circle of people.

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness,” your mother interrogated, a bitter grimace on her sharp lips. “But now they see you as you are.”

Alicent stared at your mother with an enraged offense that wrinkled her brows as she felt fire surge through her, and with a loud cry, she unthinkingly swung your family’s ancestral dagger. You screamed, running to your mother as you pulled her back, seeing a gash on her inner arm that gushed with blood.

“Mama,” you wept, tenderly holding her limb as if it would break.

Dropping the dagger, Alicent took an instinctual step toward you, a blanched, horror-stricken expression across her round face. She longed to go to you, to dry your tears and stroke your head against her bosom like your true mother would, but she could not. The terror and fear in your wide brown eyes that resembled her own sliced through her chest and laid her heart and soul bare as she felt a small hand slide into hers. The Queen hoped to see you standing beside her and thought herself mad before she securely took her son’s fist.

Much like you, Aemond knew his parent needed him. “Do not mourn me, mother. ‘Twas a fair exchange,” he expressed with a maturity beyond his years. He turned to you, a violet gaze once filled with joy now devoid, hollow, and one less eye. “I may have lost an eye but gained a dragon.”

You wished Aemond hadn’t claimed one this way and felt a hiccup wrack your lungs as you cried into your mother, Jace, and Luke coming beside you. You sadly realized this was the end of the fleeting companionship you cultivated with your uncle. All the stolen moments of reading, ideas, philosophies, and aspirations you shared under the cover of privacy were nothing more than air the moment he ran across the dunes. You would have still cared for him without a dragon, as before, but his pride wouldn’t allow it, and now he stared at you with an eye that you knew far too well.

Aemond hated you. He loathed you and your brothers with a fire that would never cease. This was your fault. He lost an eye because of you—because he cared about his bastard niece and had the foolish dream of becoming the man you loved. You did not deserve it. You were nothing more than a common girl born from sin, undeserving of your station. He would despise you for the rest of his days no matter how his heart screamed to have you by his side when darkness fell and all that was left was the ghost of your touch.

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Happiness never lasts in ASOIAF. I'm going to miss writing for baby Aemond and reader. They were so cute! From now on it's going to be messed up young adults with severe mommy uses and mental illness. I'm not going to say who has which XD. Thank y'all so much for reading and I hope to see y'all in the next chapter!

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp, @britt-mf, @marvelescvpe, @haikyuusboringassmanager, @discofairysworld, @lottiemsgf , @nessjo , @fiction-fanfic-reader , @qvnthesia , @hotvillianapologist , @p45510n4f4shi0n, @theendlessvoidofdarkest , @readerselegance , @gothamgurl2024 , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @vaylint

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howdoesagrapewrites · 10 months

Text

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐈𝐈

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: incest/targcest, yandere/lovesick behavior, unhealthy relationships, platonic and romantic yanderes, not everyone is romantically involved with reader, yandere EVERYONE x reader, Aegon II is creepy

Notes: someone told me they were waiting for part 2 🥹 btw I hate the show's timeline as a book reader because it makes absolutely no sense and I can't write properly, halfway through this I literally have decided to throw it away and run with what my heart tells me, otherwise I'll combust

>When your father came back from the war of the stepstones in 115 a.c, newly wed to Laena Velaryon, you didn't think anything was going to change, right?

>You missed the Vale, you didn't like seeing your father and Rhea fighting, but she was so kind, just like your wet nurse, she wasn't here in the castle either

>But there was a lot of new people here, and you liked them all, since they're all your family, it is only natural you'd love them all, they often say they love you too

>When the news of Rhea's death and Daemon's nuptials came, almost arriving together, it sparked a sense of empathy and compassion throughout the red keep

>All of the Targaryens were already too "heedful" with your care, declaring you'd be cared for only by family, and in the extraordinary case no one was around, there was two very meticulously chosen handmaidens who were to watch over you until a family member was available

>This measure was whispered from Otto Hightower to king Viserys, this passed as a safety measure, saying that because of your origins, you were at risk, setting the infamous "princess of Flea Bottom" title as precedent to say you were not welcomed by everyone, and therefore in danger (even if everyone who was even rumoured to be against your stay in the castle, had already been "taken care of"). Of course no one objected

>This reawoke an old rivalry between Rhaenyra and Alicent, old playmates with unspoken grudges, now desperate to prove they could be a better, more adequate influence in your life

>Willfully ignoring your young age, and the fact you'll likely forget half of whatever they say by the time you're ten, what matter is that even when Daemon takes you away, you'll be able to remember one of them with particular fondness

>It was the truth, a hard and bitter truth, that you'd have to eventually leave, everyone looking for excuses to give to Daemon once he arrived, in order to keep you around longer, maybe indefinitely

>Alicent felt uneasy when thinking of stealing you away from your sire, as much as she disliked Daemon, and believed you'd be much better off being raised as hers, along with her children, you clearly loved him, you drew pictures and saved "treasures" to give to him once he returned

>You also used to ask about Rhea, no one had the heart to tell you, but still fearing the crude words your father would use to tell you of her passing, after all, Rhea was still "his bronze bitch". Finally, it was Viserys who had to break the news to you, he was considerate and comforting, even explaining how his parents and former wife passed away as well, and how he still carries them in his heart

>You lacked the proper cognitive development to fully process it, but it made you sad you were never to see Rhea again, this made you even closer to Viserys

>Alicent wondered if there was a possibility of offering one of his son's hands, if that would make you stay, she certainly wouldn't be displeased to have as a daughter in law, Rhaenyra did the same, after all, wasn't the heir to the iron throne a much better match?

>But the day finally came, where you had to leave

>Your father forsook his crown as King of the narrow sea to Viserys, who humorously put the crown on your little head, and named you princess of the narrow sea

>With the crown falling to your forehead due to its size, you hugged your father as soon as you saw him, with giggles and words of affection, as much as it endeared them, it broke everyone's heart to remember how your time in the red keep was nothing but extraordinary. Viserys thanked the seven no one could hear his thoughts, it would be improper for a king to wish for war, just to keep his baby niece around

>This moment created a long string of creative bards singing about Y/N Targaryen, princess of the narrow sea, queen of hearts

>It was finally time for you to go to leave, Laena was ecstatic to take you with her after meeting you for the first time, but she was a smart girl and noticed she was taking away something very precious

>But celebrations had passed and it was time to go

>You lived in Pentos for the next 10 years of your life, with your father, step-mother and little sisters, Rhaena and Baela

>Daemon was not so happy to take you to King's Landing for different events, however, Laena said it was good for you to be around your cousins and nephews, good for the twins as well

>And she said that since you had your own dragon, it's best to just, it'd be better for you to not feel trapped, otherwise one day you'll just get on dragonback and do as you please

>Daemon did not like the idea of you ever leaving or having enough independence to just hop on a dragon and leave, but he understood his wife was right

>When Laena lightheartedly told the prince of Pentos that he must only ask if he wished to marry one of the girls, Daemon grimaced in his classic unsubtle fashion

>You and your sisters were excitedly ogling the new dragon egg that was meant for your sibling

>One night, Rhaena came to your room looking for comfort, she feared her new little brother or sister would have a great dragon like Vhagar, or swift as Moondancer and then she'd be left alone

>You had Dagahrion, and Baela had Moondancer, both dragons were bonded with you since birth, but Rhaena's died shortly after hatching. She was given another egg, that sadly had not even hatched

>According to the dragonkeepers, Dagahrion still needed a little more time before you could safely ride, and Moondancer had a long way to go.

>Dagahrion and Moondancer were polar opposites, where Moondancer was small, slender and agile, with lightly coloured pale sage green scales and pearl horns, Dagahrion was growing larger by the day, heavy and mighty, with black scales that shone like a green tourmaline in the sun, and dark laurel colored horns. The dragons would often play together, and were called "the greyhound and the mastiff"

>Rhaena feared her bond with you would be outshined by the future races and sky stunts you and Baela would share. And when Aemond took Vhagar, it felt even worse

>After Laena's death, you had lost a mother again. You deeply mourned her, but you felt a different kind of sadness watching Rhaenys coddle the girls in the funeral, and Corlys telling Lucerys he'd be the lord of Driftmark. Rhaenys had you on her embrace as well, but the looks on you had brought a bitter truth to your attention, one that was nonexistent in Pentos, and swept under the rug in King's Landing. You were a bastard. The whimsical melodies about the princess of the narrow sea, had made you forget the princess was born illegitimate

>You were now 13, and the stares and whispers your family shielded you from, were words much easier to put together, faces much easier to see

>The lords and ladies gossiped when everyone ran to hug you before the true orphans, you felt guilty

>"Lady Laena leaves two true-born daughters on the coast" said Vaemon. You smiled through the pain

>Your father started laughing to try and shut him up, it worked

>It also pained you to reunite with your beloved playmates, and see Aegon, your azantys, who you admired, now turned into a creep. He hugged you longer than he did with anyone else, but his hands lingered in a way you couldn't enjoy

>Lucerys and Jacaerys were there with you and your sisters, just like you could see the look thrown at you, you could see them being thrown the way of the Velaryon brothers. You didn't talk much, but you enjoyed their company

>Aemond tried to latch onto you and take you to where his family was, but after some time you had to return to your sisters, he didn't like that

>Helaena was just like you remembered her, she was still ever so gentle and had so many things to tell you about her bugs

>But some of her words were now cryptic to you

>"My dear Y/N, dragon in the flesh, do not believe the dragons in thread" she kept repeating, not even looking at you

>You slept in the room that was meant for your father, he hadn't returned yet. You slept in the second bed in that room rather than with the other children, you wanted to cry, but wanted to appear strong for your sisters, so you preferred to be away for the night

>However, the ruckus woke you up, Aemond stole Vhagar, and Lucerys made him lose an eye

>Jacaerys told you about the "hilarious" time they gave Aemond a pig, you silently reprimanded them, you didn't find it funny, but to go and steal Rhaena's last connection to her mother?

>Vhagar was not a heirloom, not a thing, but Rhaena deserved a chance to try to tame her before others did

>You were upset, however tried to stay at Aemond's side, after all, he was the one who lost an eye

>At least until you heard your nephew. "He called us bastards", you looked at him with a sad, disappointed expression before completely (and literally) turning your back on him to go console your sisters

>Rhaena was the most affected, her connection to her late mother, and to her sisters, was stolen by Aemond. In the moment, she feared Aemond would steal you away too, you seemed to be fond of him, and the queen would often tell stories of how close you were with her children. Losing you to Baela was one thing, she was her twin, and you would be within reach, but Aemond?

>Aemond was true to his words when he said gaining a dragon was worth losing an eye

>But he wasn't so sure it was worth losing you

#yandere daemon targaryen #yandere hotd #hotd x reader #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yandere targaryens #yandere aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader

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snowprincesa1 · 11 months

Text

{seducing the prince }

Jacaerys x F!Lannister!Reader

Summary: Jacaerys knew he would have to marry for duty, he didn’t know his duty would be to you.

Trigger warnings:‼️Coitus and jacaerys a whipped man playing hard to get 😘😘😘😘

Special thanks to my babe/beta reader @luckytoucan 💗💗💗💗

Jacaerys always hated you. Hated how close you were to the Aegon and aemond in his childhood. How you always preferred their company over his. He tried so hard to make you notice him, to make you perhaps feel and inch of what he felt for you. Each time those dreams get shattered by the sound of your laugh with helaena and daeron over him. He didn’t fail to see how Aegon and aemond had indoctrinated you with hatred against him and his brothers. He had to hate you, hate your pride and pettiness, the snobby Lannister attitude you held. He saw you as one of the Queen’s party hoping for Aegon the elder to ascend the throne over his mother and him.

But sure enough that did not happen. Queen Rhaenyra ascended the throne and when jacaerys turned sixteen named his heir to the crown infront of all the lords and ladies of the court. He would forget you, forget how you looked walking through the gardens with his aunt, he would forget the way you danced, the way you haunted his very soul. Jacaerys felt himself grow mad with the constant thoughts of you blurring his mind turning it into a slurry. He needed to get away from you and the clasp you had of him. He needed you gone from his sight and away so he could just lose memory of you entirely. Over the years your cruel teasing did not weaken, often throwing him a flirty smile knowing damn well that nothing on this earth would ever get you to marry a bastard, crown prince or not, you took pleasure in complimenting as to how strong he had grown. Every ‘compliment’ you threw was an insult in disguise.

You can only imagine the shock he felt when his mother there queen Rhaenyra betrothed him to you years later, his stomach flipped upside down, in excitement? Fear? Annoyance? He looked over to you and there you were smiling at him as though you held the upper hand.

“You are not upset by this? Not even in the slightest?” He asked surprised as he grew more frustrated at the fact you seemed so alright with this.

“If i marry you I will be queen someday, surely you are just an addition that comes with the arrangement” you said sipping from your wine, amused by his reactions. Of course, he should have expected this from a Lannister, no matter how pretty they come you cannot change their nature. Always so smug, he wanted to make you feel the way he did. He was so helplessly in love with you but deemed your lannister self incapable of love, too smug to even care to feel a thing. Now as your betrothed he found himself at an advantage..

You on the other side always tried to to revert back to the past and change the way you behaved towards him. You quite literally tried to charm your way into his heart but all your actions seemed to be of no avail. He always shut down every smile with a polite nod, every kind word you said was met with his disdain, he quite literally at this point assumed your whole existence as a mockery towards him. You believed your betrothal would soften his heart up but instead it hardened it. The man could not seem to bear your presence, always growing agitated.

You attempted to win him over with gifts, with kisses which he averted from, with physical affection holding his hand and batting your pretty eyes at him, he showed no reaction to these. You often attempted to flirt with him in high valyrian which he had perfected, instead of appreciating your effort, he took the time to correct your pronunciation and grammatical errors.

You embroidered for him. You attempted to melt his heart by talking of the future where the two of you would have little children. Nothing worked, the most infuriating part was that with all the time you spent swaying him you felt yourself grow more fond of him yourself.

Whenever jacaerys sparred with Nettles, a supposed dragon seed brought to court because of her fierce skills in combat, you felt your heart feel the pang of anger and sadness. He seemed more fond of his uncles over you at this point and you felt absolutely helpless. You wanted to leave the past behind and win his affection. Perhaps that is not what fate wanted for the two of you. You walked away from the sparring ground and jacaerys noticed your absence in his mind.

The whole court was not blind to this tug of war game between the two of you, the jealousy that lingered between other possible lovers the two of you had. His brothers teased him incessantly over how he kept your embroidery in a special box in the cupboard and how he blew up if anyone attempted to touch what you gave him. Jacaerys loved the attempts you made towards him to make up for your past behaviour, he loved every moment of it. Every smile of yours would replay over and over in his mind once it was over. Thoughts of future children with you sent his blood rush to his nether regions, to see you carry his children.

He would often dress up far better than he usually did for sparring lessons in case you’d visit..or rather he’d dress down, discarding his sweaty shirt only if you were in the vicinity.

Nothing bothered Jacaerys more than seeing you with his uncles, at princess helaena’s name day party. His angered expression not was one he attempted to hide. you could feel his glare towards his uncle Daeron, a man of the same age as him. Daeron was mischievous and cheeky who also like everyone enjoyed annoying jacaerys as the two of them always saw each other as rivals even though they shared a wet nurse. Jacaerys could take it no longer dragging you away from dinner, his hand lingered on your arm, holding you firmly but not enough to hurt you.

“How many times must you repeat this song and dance?” He hissed pushing your back into the cold pillar “why can’t you leave me be?” He asked, his hands holding yours as you struggled in his hold, his hands had covered the entirety of your wrist as though it was nothing.

“Can you not see? How blind can you be?” You asked in an angry tone. His grasp did not leave your hands as he suddenly turned you around pressing you against the rough pillar wall pinning your hands to your lower back as you felt his figure croon over you. “Why do the gods have to make me put up with you” you felt his hot breath on your ear and the heat of his body radiating your own. You were glad he could not see your flustered face.

“I’ve only ever tried to get your attention” you voiced out, on hearing your voice he pressed you further into the bricks. You could hear him chuckle.

“So you throw yourself at my uncle?” jacaerys answered his grip tightening around your wrists. He felt conflicted a part of him died to believe your words, that you wanted his attention, the other ran his imagination wild seeing you with Daeron in uncompromising positions. “ah yes, they’re true born and i am..” he trailed off his hands abruptly let your wrist go. “And what do they tell you that it is a pity that your beauty is being wasted on me, a strong prince as you once said” his voice echoed in the empty corridors, he had lost all awareness of his surrounding.

“No! I did not say that! I have played very trick in the book, I have used every tactic anything to get you to like me and the only time you seem to ever even look at me is if I am with another. You think I like parading myself in this tight gown for no reason? Have you even seen my dress or have you been too caught up in your hobby of making me your enemy”

“Yes I have seen the way you look!” He answered angrily. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked at you.

“Then tell me how do I look!” You yelled back you felt tears if frustration bubble at the rims of your eyes, you looked away quickly would this how the entirety of the marriage would go? With you begging for him to notice you? You needed him to notice you at this point, want was no longer sufficient.

“Beautiful” jacaerys said the words he had held in his mouth for so long “So beautiful that if I take one glance it’ll never be enough, if I get one taste that too would not suffice, my greed, my lust is insatiable for you” you knew you had him then, he was yours and yours to keep. Your efforts weren’t in vain.

“You do not hate me then?” You asked surprised as his eyes watched you intently at your every move, what were you planning now..

“Oh make no mistake I do, I’ve always hated you. You’ve always played me as though I was a game. I am not my lady I would have remember that I am the crown prince of the seven kingdoms, my parentage does not matter because I am a Targaryen” he said he turned to leave one more.

You walked towards him and grabbed his face in yours, he admitted that he thought you beautiful and in your eyes that was a victory in itself, this was your chance to seduce your brunette prince as you closed the distance between your faces by planting a gentle kiss on his lips, in hopes it would sway his feelings about you. He gasped against your mouth feeling your lips press against his so perfectly. His hands instantly wrapped around your waist feeling the fabric of your gown crumbling it in his hands, “you shouldn’t hate me, sweet prince” you teased him, habits die hard. As his lips fought your own for dominance, his right hand reaching up to hold your face as he drank you in, the moment your lips parted for a gasp his hot tongue found its way into yours, your mouths in total sync, it was hard to keep your mind sharp now, just as he did you grace into your senses.

That’s how you found yourself with your dress ripped to shreds and your leg propped on his shoulders as he thrusted into you sharply, he made no attempt to stop any time soon, you gasped and moaned and claws at his chest anything to make you feel as though you had control over your betrothed. He drove you mad stopping just when you were about to peak, he denied you of cumming over and over leaving you teary eyed moaning as he brought you such pleasure and pain. If he denied you once more you felt as though you would collapse from the sheer need.

This was your punishment for everything you had ever done to him, every smirk, every mocking word, you felt yourself bend in ways you never thought possible. Jacaerys felt up the fat of your thighs as he leaned in the two of you in to fetch a passion filled kiss. You felt his heavy length press into your sensitive spot and he smirked on seeing you squirm under him as so, release was a mirage so close yet so far. “I should not let you cum, you do not deserve it” he said kissing the leg that sat on his shoulder.

“Tell me how I can win your forgiveness my prince” You moaned out feeling him hitting that one spot that made your head go hazy as you looked to at him with lust drunken eyes.

Jacaerys smirked “there’s nothing you can do” he grunted out letting moans of his escape as his eyes shut from the intensity of the pleasure, perhaps he was being too cruel to you..

“You are right I do not want your forgiveness, I want more— I need you to be mine” you whined out, the pure euphoria of having you in his arms, under him, needing him just like he prayed to the gods you would. His feelings perhaps were not entirely one sided.

“You already have me, do you not see?” He said truthfully holding your hand to his heart “it beats for you lioness” He whispered in your ear and you gasped from the sheer intimacy and lewdness of your hips moving into each other, the soft wet sounds emulating in the wide halls but now all you could focus was on the man before you, his fingers reached down to your nub rubbing a calloused finger over it, the right little circles along with the snapping of his hips made you throw your head back and moan in tears as you felt your release build up for the fourth time since jacaerys had edged you, your eyes filled with tears as you looked to your betrothed with pleasing eyes to let you cum.

Jacaerys could not find it in himself to deny you of your pleasure anymore as he felt you come hard with a shrill cry of his name. All over his tunic. He felt his own release build up seeing your fucked out look with a few more sloppy hard thrusts he gave you all his cum, strings of his seed trailed down your shaky legs. He swore this was the hardest he had orgasmed ever in his life, his breath lost as he plopped himself over you his head resting in the crook of your neck as you rolled his silky brown hair between your fingers.

“You mean it? You love me?” You asked feeling him hum on your neck placing soft kisses on it as the two of you sunk to your feet using the pillar as support as jacaerys peppered you with kisses.

“Lying has never been in my nature” he said “I have loved you since the moment you I laid my eyes on you, princess” he smiled pulling himself from your neck to gaze upon your afterglow, messy lip tint smeared all over your face from the bruising kisses he gave you. You gasped and playfully punched at his side. “Your little tactics to get me to love you were quite entertaining, I admit” he smirked kissing you once more” as the two of you embraced in the cold of the night you felt so warm with his arms over you.

“You’re telling me all my seduction tactics were never necessary?!” You asked bewildered at your betrothed, you saw jacaerys crack up laughing as though if your realisation was the funniest thing to him. He would have to make up for this he knew, he was always ready to turn the tables around and win your forgiveness with his own seduction tactics.

#jacaerys x reader #jacaerys Targaryen x reader #jacaerys strong x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x oc #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x y/n #jacaerys Targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys strong #house of the dragon #asoiaf #hotd #hotd fanfiction #jacaerys fanfic #jacaerys x female oc

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doctorwhoandfairytaillover · 26 days

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Mine (Two - Shot)

Summary: Daemon has always made his feelings about Otto Hightower and his offspring quite clear, but the night of Laena's funeral, he doesn't seek out Rhaenyra but instead sequesters himself in his room. It's there that he finds that perhaps he doesn't hate all of the Hightowers. (AU with another elder Hightower daughter)

A/N: I have a love - hate relationship with Daemon, but I gave it a shot. When I tell you that I refuse to make this any spicier and was already struggling as is 🤣 but I just had to write this down. This has been divided into two parts, cause it was something else.

|| My Masterlist ||

She was the eldest daughter and second child of Otto Hightower, but this meant nothing to the man. She did not receive much attention, her father was far too busy with the web of political intrigue and keeping his youngest and favorite child at his side.

It was why she did not hold the same level of animosity toward the Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen as her Father and younger sister. She had always been intrigued by the prince but the prince despised the entire family of Hightowers, and she was no exception.

But when he saw her standing beside her family at the funeral of his second wife. In her green dress, he sneered at her just as he always had. Even though she had never shown to be like her father and sister, he only lumped her alongside them.

Which was why she didn’t understand why she thought it would be a good idea to visit Daemon's chambers that evening. Of course, his wife died and he needs consolation, but she didn’t think he would be that glad to see her.

There were no guards posted at the door, so it gave her a chance to calm her racing heart when she hesitated knocking at his chamber doors. She breathed deeply and knocked, hearing a soft, Come in.

She stepped into the room before she could change her mind and go back to her own chambers for the night.

Daemon sat in a chair by the fireplace with his legs spread apart. Loose shirt and pants, it was clear that he was getting ready for bed.

She felt like she had made a mistake, she was defenseless and scared. She tended to be fearful of men normally and yet she had practically walked herself into a dragon’s lair.

And that dragon was Daemon.

When he saw her standing there on the threshold of his chambers, his eyebrows almost furrowed, and she was already preparing for him to say some rather harsh words because of her presence.

“Are you lost?” He chuckled, raising one eyebrow. “This isn’t the tower of the Hand.”

His gaze slid over her green nightgown with its delicate neckline, and down towards her legs.

“No… actually, I came to see you” she muttered nervously, playing with the sleeves of her nightgown.

“Me?” He asked in amusement. “And what would you come to see me for?”

"I thought... well I thought that you might need some comfort" she mumbled.

He chuckled at her words, to him it looked like the Hightower girl did not realize the implications behind what she was saying. Not that he minded it, he might hate her whole family, but Daemon wasn't a blind man to see that she was absolutely beautiful.

"Come closer, my dear" he said, crooking a finger to have her come closer. "I don't bite.... too hard."

She gulped nervously and took a few steps closer, but was still too far for him to reach her.

"Oh surely you can come a little closer, in fact," Daemon opened his legs a tad wider and patted at his lap. "Come sit here, it would make our conversation much easier."

This only tensed her further and she bit her lip in thought, immediately his eyes turned to her lips despite that not being her intention.

She knew that there were already several lines that she was crossing that night; showing up to a man's room without a chaperone, being with him alone (at night no less), and other lines of decorum that would have her father absolutely furious.

But she wanted.... no she needed to be closer to him, even if perhaps every fiber in her being was warning her that this was a bad idea.

"Would I not be too heavy?" She whispered.

This amused Daemon immensely, "Do you think me that weak of a man?"

"No! Never!"

"Then?" He tilted his head and looked at her expectantly.

She could practically hear the pulsing of her heart in her ears, every step closer to the Rogue Prince had her on edge. But it did not take long for her to stand before him, and despite her standing tall in front of him, with the smirk on his face she knew that Daemon had all the power in that moment.

He smirked, “Hello there.”

“Hello” she whispered back.

“Will you finally sit on my lap as I told you or would you rather I helped you do it?”

She almost jumped out of her own skin when she felt his hands on her waist and slowly guided her to sit on his lap, feeling the heat and power that he radiated even while seated on a simple chair.

“Now see, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he said with a raspy laugh.

She let out a shaky breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding until that moment and nodded in agreement. Her own smaller hands were careful as she placed them over his chest and hesitantly ran them over his hardened stomach and shoulders. And if she didn’t know any better, he seemed to almost purr at her tender and soft touch.

Her heart still beat quickly, but in that moment, all she could focus on was that indescribable look that darkened his purple eyes. It was a gaze that she had never experienced before, even more with the time that she had been kept at Oldtown with the sole company of her septas and maesters.

No, the gaze of Daemon felt like he acknowledged that she was a woman too.

Something that she had never been permitted to experience, especially considering that even with his lack of attention and care, Otto Hightower had made sure to sequester the girl away from the attentions of men. Never given the chance to have someone look at her with the reverence that Daemon Targaryen was bestowing upon her, and she was sure that despite her fear, she wanted to hold onto him for as long as he would allow.

But even with that reverent gaze, it did not take away from the fact that sitting on his lap was beginning to feel uncomfortable and she couldn’t help but shift herself where she was seated.

Daemon took a deep breath to keep himself in check, his eyes closed for a moment, before opening them again, now looking directly into her eyes.

“If you keep moving like this with little restraint, I might snap. And who knows what a dragon is capable of if provoked?” His voice held an edge, a barely contained lust in his words.

“But I haven't done anything to you,” she said with confusion in her voice but still a warmth settled in her belly.

“No?”

The hand on her hip went up, his palm tracing over her pudged waist and hip, his thumb teasingly slipping under the edge of her nightgown, caressing the skin there.

“You’ve done enough already,” he laughed. “Just sitting here, all nervous and beautiful, looking at me with those wide, innocent eyes. And then moving on my lap like a little brat.”

“But I can't help it!” she huffed. “It isn’t comfortable to sit on a person’s lap for long, you wouldn't punish me for that, would you?”

“I should punish you for that,” Daemon mused, his free hand still caressing at the hem of her nightgown, his thumb tracing the line up and down the seam, up and down the side. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweet love. Here sitting on my lap, squirming in my grip, while I try to keep my hands off of you.”

She doesn’t know what bravery or stupidity comes over her at that moment, but she kisses his cheek and looks at him with an innocent gaze. “Would that help avoid punishment?”

Daemon’s reaction to the kiss on his cheek was instant: his breath hitched in his throat, his grip on her hip grew tighter, and his trousers suddenly became rather uncomfortable.

He closed his eyes for a moment and took another deep breath to collect himself, before opening them again and seeing that innocent expression upon her face.

“You little brat,” He mumbled through bared teeth and squeezed her hip again with a deep breath, his fingers digging into her soft flesh.

He leaned closer so his mouth was next to her ear, a soft, almost imperceptible brush of his soft lips on your earlobe. “Keep looking at me like that and you’ll be in trouble. You don’t even know what trouble looks like, little love.”

Daemon’s breath was warm against her skin, and the hairs at the back of her neck stood up when she shivered at his touch. The hand on her hip started roaming once again, but this time it moved towards her belly, his palm resting upon her stomach.

She giggled softly in his ear, “Daemon, that tickles.”

Only it seemed that her lighthearted giggles made his blood burn hotter.

“Does it?” He said with a hint of mischief in his voice, and his hand on her stomach started to move again, sliding just slightly under the hem of her nightgown, his fingers now on the soft skin of her thigh, gently caressing it.

She giggles harder and tries to pull away, “Daemon! Stop, I'm ticklish!”

Daemon smirked as her squirms grew stronger while she tried to escape his hands, but his grip on her never faltered. He had her caught like prey in his trap.

“Oh? You’re ticklish, are you?” His fingers slowly crept even further up her thigh, now caressing the sensitive skin just underneath her ribs. He kept rubbing over the sensitive spots, his hand roaming over her stomach and sides, up and down. His mouth never left her ear, and the quiet, low sighs and gasps that escaped from him on an occasion were hot against her skin while her own smaller body shivered and writhed in his lap.

“Oh Daemon,” she whimpers softly. “I.... I feel weird.”

“Is this a good weird?” Daemon asked in a low growl, his hand now slowly crawling further up, to the underside of her breast. It was the first time he had touched her like that, but he was going for more.

“I think so, I've never felt like this before,” she sighed softly.

“Never before?” Daemon repeated, slowly and quietly in thought. His palm stopped caressing her skin, just below her ribs, his fingers splayed over her hip bone. He was curious, he wanted to know if anyone else had touched the Hightower girl before him. He had a suspicion that she was quite untouched and innocent, and it only fueled his arousal.

“I've... I’ve only kissed a boy once, and he had only held my hand” she mumbled. “Nothing more than that.”

“Aww. A sweet little kiss?” Daemon almost chuckled, his tone and words obviously mocking her, as if she were so inexperienced and naive. "And only held your hand once? Who was this boy?"

“I only remember that he was a Lannister, I never saw him again” she shrugged with nonchalance as most visitors didn't come back.

" A Lannister, hmm?" Daemon pondered for a moment, trying to think over the names of different Lannisters at the moment, before eventually deciding it didn’t matter. He returned his focus back to her, on how inexperienced and innocent she was, and on her sitting on his lap, squirming and squirming, trying to get away from his teasing touch.

His fingers continued to glide over her skin, his nails slightly scratching over the softness of her sides, before slowly moving back towards her ribs.

"Have many boys tried to court you?" Daemon asks, his voice now low, deep and smooth, his nose nearly nuzzling her ear.

"Not many, I think. Father would never tell me," she sighed contently. “Or perhaps I was simply too naive of it all.”

Daemon chuckled at that. Of course her father wouldn’t tell her. To him, the girl was likely just a future pawn or tool, just an insurance policy for the Hightowers’ safety despite being his oldest daughter. He continued to caress over the sensitive skin of her stomach and sides, while simultaneously pulling her body even closer against him, pressing her firmly against his chest. He wanted her as close as possible.

His free hand started slowly making its way up her body once more, tracing a path up her side, her ribs, her chest, her neck, her jaw until it finally settled on her chin and then lifting her face up to look at him.

Her breath hitched in her throat and stilled.

“There,” Daemon said quietly as he finally had her bright eyes look at him, with his hand gripping her chin and holding her head in place. The proximity allowed him to fully take in her expression and features. Wide innocent eyes, flushed cheeks, parted lips, and the way her chest rose and fell with each shaky breath.

He slowly licked his lips.

He couldn’t help himself.

One look at her was enough to drive him crazy. Not just her looks as that had been obvious enough, but that innocence and how inexperienced she was.

How she was sitting in his lap, trembling under his touch.

His to take.

His to enjoy fully.

“Daemon,” she whines craving more of his touch.

“Yes, my little love” Daemon hummed, his eyes darkening at the way she pleaded for his touch. His hand on her chin squeezed the slightest bit as she let out a soft whine, her lips all pouty.

He wouldn’t be able to contain himself for much longer.

“Would you kiss me, please?” she pleaded.

The question was almost laughable considering how much he wanted to do that. He was already struggling to hold himself in check. Daemon chuckled softly, his eyes fixed on her lips as she let out another little plea.

“Do you want me to kiss you, little love?”

“Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Daemon answered as his thumb released her chin and gently brushed over her bottom lip, tracing its shape and softness.

He knew he should have been careful, he knew he should’ve held himself back, but he couldn’t. He leaned closer until his mouth was just inches from hers.

He looked into her eyes and the sight only made it worse. Her wide, innocent expression fueled his lust even more.

“You’re so lovely,” he said in almost a whisper, before finally closing the remaining distance between them and gently bringing his lips against hers.

And to her it was everything.

She moaned softly and tugged at his hair.

Daemon groaned against her lips. His hand on her side instantly gripped tighter, while the one on her hip moved to her thigh. He angled his head to kiss her even deeper, even hungrily, taking advantage of her mouth and inexperienced kisses.

His tongue licked over the seam of her lips, demanding entrance and making her open her mouth for him so it could enter. He took his time enjoying the taste and sensations, his tongue caressing the inside of her mouth, before his hand on her thigh started pulling her even further up his lap.

She could only pull at his hair harder and move her hips to feel him closer, making Daemon grunts against her mouth. His hand squeezed the flesh of her thigh tightly, as it pulled her even higher up, almost straddling his lap. She was now firmly pressed against his chest, her hips pushed hard against his, his hand keeping her in place to avoid her falling.

He took a moment to savor how it felt to have her pressed against him, how good it felt to have her body pushed against his. Without breaking the kiss, the hand on her thigh slowly traveled up, under the hem of her nightgown, his fingers brushed against her soft, bare thigh.

She put her hand over his and whispered, “Please Daemon, I need you.”

Daemon broke the kiss to look at her, his breath heavy and ragged. His lips were red and swollen from the kiss, and fire was evident in his eyes as he stared at her.

“Need me?” he whispered in return. His fingers kept gliding over the sensitive skin on her inner thigh. “What do you need me to do, sweet love?”

He was growing impatient, the thin control he was still holding onto was slowly snapping. He had so many things he wanted to do to her, so many ways he wanted to take her and claim her as his own. His hand on your thigh started to slide even further up your dress.

She knew her father would be furious, but all she could say to Daemon was, “Make me yours, please!”

“Make you mine?” Daemon repeated slowly, his eyes fixed on her own tear filled eyes.

He pushed her firmly up against his chest, his hand still roaming under the hem of her nightgown, and the fingers of the other running across her stomach. His lips were close to her ear, warm breath caressing her neck.

“Is that a question or a request, little love?”

“Whichever helps keep you close to me,” she practically spat out impatiently.

The low, almost growl-like sound that escaped his throat sent a shudder down her spine. The hand under her dress suddenly squeezed the flesh of her thigh with a bruising grip.

He wanted you, and he wanted you now.

“Are you mine, sweet thing?” He asked with a commanding tone and another squeeze to her thigh.

“Yours, only yours” she said without thinking about the repercussions.

“Good girl,” Daemon praised in a low murmur, his lips brushing over her neck as he spoke, slowly inching closer to the sensitive spots. While his mouth was still near her ear, his hand under her dress fully cupped her breast.

That indescribably warmth settled once more and for the rest of that eventful night as she let Daemon whisper one word in her ear.

“Mine.”

#house of the dragon x reader #daemon x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #x reader #x reader insert #mildly spicy content #hightower reader

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proudofmyanger · 3 months

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Beware: a pessimistic rant with lots of speculations

Imo the decision to write Alicent and Criston having sex during b&c is really bad. I think it's a very unnecessary change, and I don't see how it fits the narrative. And it's so obvious what the writers' intentions are. They are not interested in exploring these characters and their relationship. They just want to shift the focus away from blood and cheese and make the greens look bad. Of course, in no way Alicent and Criston having sex makes them guilty of the tragedy that is b&c. But it seems that the show is taking the focus away from team black's fault to blame the greens. I don't believe that the showrunners don't know what they are doing.

In the books, Alicent was right there when it happened. She was the witness of team black's cruelty. She saw how they tormented her sweet daughter and her grandchildren, how they killed her grandson. Murderers making Alicent witness everything contributed to how vile b&c was, how unnecessary cruel. It gave Alicent even more motivation to fight her family's enemies and seek revenge. But now, thanks to hotd's bullshit she's going to blame herself more than anyone else. Wonderful. Why make her absent during b&c and add this new plotline about her feeling guilty because of it? Because god forbid Alicent starts being angry and hating her enemies again, right? They just have to make Alicent conflicted about her every action. They can't allow her to have confidence again. She has to always blame herself. They just have to make Alicent and Criston continue feeling bad about themselves.

There's also this picture:

Are they making it so that Aegon doesn't notice the murderer right under his nose?

So what do we get? Aegon doesn't notice Blood, probably because he's lightheaded or drunk. Alicent and Criston are absent having sex. And I'm not going to be surprised if they make Aemond go to the brothel during b&c, too. It feels like a joke.

B&C is supposed to show the cruelty team black is capable of. But instead of focusing on that, they're going to make all the greens look incompetent and feel guilty. And knowing this show they might even frame it as if the greens are at fault for what happened too. Tbh it's disgusting. The only people who are guilty are the ones who ordered, orchestrated and executed this bloody spectacle. But they are probably gonna not just make Daemon the only one behind it, but make the whole thing an accident. We already have leaks saying that Rhaenyra and Daemon just wanted to kill Aemond. It's going to be so bad.

House of the dragon? No, house of the accidents. House of the cringe and bad writing.

#hotd critical #anti hotd #team green #anti team black #pro team green #alicent hightower #criston cole #aegon ii targaryen #hotd

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thesithdiaries · 2 years

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Forbidden (Jacaerys Velaryon imagine)

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x female Targaryen!reader

Requested: yes, its also a combo of three requests

Warnings: incest obvi, mention of hair but its just during a cute part, allusions to do doing the deed before marriage, wrap it up folks cause we dont have the plan b tea, angst, parental abuse, viserys is fine in this, aemond being like his mother and minding everything but his business, ✨pregnancy and teen marriage✨, spoilers for the show

“We have to be quiet,” Jace whispered, holding Y/N’s hand as they walked by the gates. He had been carrying a bag with him as well.

They had to sneak around to be together. They always had. As far as the family knows, Jace and Y/N had not seen each other in six years, since the incident at Lady Laena’s funeral, but that is far from the truth. They would meet at Duskendale, often flying there with their dragons when they were old enough to do so. Before that, they would exchange many letters by raven.

Since they were young, they gravitated toward each other. Rhaenyra never minded this, she was quite fond of Y/N and knew she was not like the rest of her family. However, Alicent did mind. She hated how her daughter would associate with them, often making snide comments about it. Aegon did not even care and Helaena thought their friendship was sweet but Aemond despised the idea of it.

He was a possessive man when it came to his sisters. Deep down, he knew his behavior was not the best yet it did not make him stop. Y/N did not like having her brother make decisions for her or treat her as if she was fragile. For this, they both decided that they had to sneak around to avoid him altogether.

Aemond would monitor everything his sister did when they were children. It did not matter if she was with the Septa, or in the dragonpit, or even eating, he wanted to know. The first time he saw her playing in the gardens with Jace and Luke, he thought nothing of it. His feelings on the matter changed when he saw that she started spending more time with them every day.

The night he lost his eye, Aemond was comforted by Y/N. She was even willing to learn what the maester did to help him. He was grateful, because she was calm and sweet to him, unlike his mother, who was hysterical at the fact that he was maimed. They grew even closer in the following years. Aemond vowed to become a warrior, so he could protect his family, especially Y/N, as a repayment for all the times she helped him when he was in need.

“Where are we going?” She asked through quiet giggles. Jace smirked.

“Out.” Y/N gave him a confused look. It was late, where could they possibly go at this hour?

By this moment, they were almost at the dragonpit, the rush of excitement running through their veins. Vermax was outside, waiting for them. The dragonkeeper, Endric, was leaning against the wall smiling at them. Y/N had wondered what Jace had said to him to even make him agree to do this.

“Jace?” Y/N whispered as he began climbing on Vermax.

“Come on, Y/N,” he called for her, extending his hand so she would follow him. She was unsure, they had never done this before, especially at night. It took her a few seconds to decide she wanted to take the risk.

They arrived at a small but beautiful meadow far from the castle. Jace helped her climb off Vermax, who went to hide behind the treeline to rest. Y/N was delighted at the sight. The soft glow of the moon gave it a nice feel.

She was so entranced that she did not notice Jace had set up a blanket for them. “Come on, Y/N,” he playfully called for her as he sat down.

“Is there a special occasion I do not know about?” She wondered, sitting next to him. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Do I need a special occasion to take you somewhere nice?” Jace said, grabbing her hand and kissing it.

“No,” Y/N said, “you can take me somewhere nice whenever you want.” Jace hummed, too lost in his thoughts as he stared at her.

Jace always had a crush on Y/N. She was sweet and fun to be around. Rhaenyra encouraged him to seek a friendship with her, knowing they got along well. At one point, they did everything together and knew everything about each other. The king was delighted. He loved that they got along.

Y/N rested her head on his shoulder. “Mother found me a suitor.”

“What?” Jace asked, with a clear surprise on his face. “I thought she said you could choose.”

“She lied,” Y/N noted. “She said I would bring shame to her if I picked the wrong suitor.”

Jace rolled his eyes. “It does not make any sense to me.”

They sat there in silence, not wanting to talk about it anymore. Jace was mindlessly playing with her hand and the rings she wore while Y/N rested. It felt peaceful, being alone in the meadow.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, carefully brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N’s face flushed.

“Jace,” Y/N breathed.

She cupped his cheek and then she pressed her lips against his as Jace felt his breath hitch. He grabbed her lower back, quickly getting her under him, and then he kissed her harder. She ran her fingers through his dark hair as the kiss deepened. She pulled back momentarily just to catch her breath. Jace’s gaze intensified as Y/N bit her bottom lip, softly caressing his cheek.

"Make love to me, Jacaerys.”

Jace growled in his throat as he crashed her lips onto hers, working to remove the dress she was wearing. There was no turning back this time.

They arrived back in the Red Keep right before dawn, sharing a quick kiss as a goodbye before parting to go to their respective apartments. Nobody seemed to notice they were gone, and if someone did notice, they had not said anything.

It was an eventful day in the castle, Jace and Y/N could not sneak off at all. Vaemond Velaryon wanted the Driftmark throne but King Viserys reaffirmed it was Lucerys’ birthright. Vaemond also committed treason by insulting Rhaenyra and her children, causing Daemon to slice his head off in front of everyone.

During the feast, Aemond had Y/N sitting next to him. He had a weird feeling about her, eyeing her the entire night. The suspicions he did not know he had were confirmed when Jace asked Y/N to dance. Aemond was clenching his jaw as he saw his sister dance with him. Y/N was having fun with Jace, everybody could see that. Aegon sent him a look, subtly shaking his head.

Aemond stood up after hitting the table. Jace stood in front of Y/N, just in case. “Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace... Luke... and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise... hm... strong. Come... let us drain our cups to these three... Strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again,” Jace threatened him. Y/N’s eyes widened as she grabbed his forearm, only to be shaken off.

“Why? 'Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?” Jace punched him, causing Aemond to push him back onto the ground. Y/N was staring at her brother in disbelief as the knights held Jace, Luke, and Baela back.

When Rhaenyra told her children to go to their quarters, Y/N left as well, but not before giving her brother a disapproving look. Aemond followed her and held the door of her chambers before she could slam it shut. “Y/N,” he warned.

“Go away, Aemond,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“I only complimented them. It is not my fault they felt offended,” he pointed out. His sister stared at him with annoyance.

“Get out, Aemond, now. I will not ask you again,” Y/N threatened him. He scoffed, leaving.

Y/N sat on her bed, thinking about Jace. She wanted to defend him during the dinner, to stand up to her brother but she knew that would cause more problems, not stop them. After debating on what to do, she sneaked out of her chambers and ran to Jace’s apartments on the other side of the Red Keep.

Y/N softly knocked on the door, looking at both sides to make sure nobody was following her. Jace opened the door seconds later, both relieved and shocked that it was her. He pulled her inside, closing the door behind her. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” Y/N confessed, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. “I am so sorry about everything, I wanted to help you but I didn't know how.”

Jace immediately wrapped his arms around her waist. “I know, don’t worry about it,” he assured her.

They stood there, holding each other, not wanting to let go. “I love you, Jace,” Y/N told him.

Jace smiled against her neck, “I love you, too.”

They slept together that night, knowing that it will probably be the last time they would share a bed for a long time.

Three months later

Rhaenyra and her family departed King’s Landing the day after the fight. Y/N and Jace were still meeting in the meadow. The intimacy between them reached new limits as they discovered more about each other’s bodies.

Y/N was just about to fall asleep when she felt something heavy landing on her. She opened her eyes to find her mother standing there, with a look of disappointment and disgust. It was her sheets. “You have not bled.”

That was enough to pull Y/N away from the sleepy feeling. Her blood ran cold as she sat up, the realization of her actions finally dawning on her. “I… I had not noticed,” Y/N admitted shamefully.

Alicent stalked towards her, roughly grabbing her chin. “Who did you fuck?”

“Mother, I-” Y/N whined when she felt the grip getting tighter. “I will not tell you.”

Her mother’s eyes widened as she did not hesitate to hit her daughter multiple times. Y/N started yelling at her, trying to push her away to no avail. Ser Criston and Ser Erryk ran into the quarters, pulling the queen away from the princess.

Criston took her away as she kept yelling obscenities at Y/N, while Erryk looked over at the injuries. It was not too bad, she would have some bruises but the bloody nose and split lip made it look worse than it was. “I will get the maester, princess.”

He quickly walked out just as Aemond entered. The expression of confusion he had turned into anger as he saw his sister. “Y/N! What happened? Who did this?”

“It was mother,” Y/N told him. She stood up from her bed, marching to her dresser to see her reflection in the looking glass.

“Why?” Aemond demanded to know. “Why would she hit you this way?”

Y/N fidgeted, turning around to face him. “She has insinuated that I am with child.”

Aemond stood there, trying to find a hint that she was joking yet he found none. Y/N stared at him defiantly, as if she was waiting for him to raise his hand as well. “Who-”

“I will not tell you. It is my business to deal with.” He was about to argue when Maester Gerardys walked in, quickly rushing over to tend to her. Y/N pointed at the door, silently telling Aemond to leave.

“Your Grace, Princess Y/N would like to speak with you,” Ser Harrold said, opening the door to Viserys’ chambers.

“Yes, let her in,” he replied with a smile, which disappeared when he saw the state his daughter was in. Y/N had a bruise on her cheek, along with some scratches. “My love, who did this to you? I will have their head.”

Y/N sat down on the chair, looking up at her father. “It was mother… she discovered something I did.”

Viserys was confused as he grabbed his daughter’s hand. “What did you do? Surely it did not warrant such reaction from her.”

“Father, I- Y/N cleared her throat. “I have sinned.”

He stared at her with evident confusion. Slowly, as he gave it more thought, he realized what she had done. “Y/N,” he sighed.

“I know, father. I have brought shame to mother, you, and our house.”

“Who was it?” Viserys questioned.

“Jace,” Y/N whispered.

Viserys sat down next to her, the shock dawning on him. “I will write to Rhaenyra about this. You will marry Jacaerys and live with him in Dragonstone.”

“What?” Y/N had thought she would be married off to another lord or locked in a tower forever. “You are not angry?”

Her father sighed again, “no, sweet girl. I am not as mad as I should be. I am glad you trusted me enough to come tell me.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon sat in the great hall, reading the letter they received from the king again and again.

Dear Rhaenyra,

I must confess I never thought I would send this type of letter to you. Something has happened between Jacaerys and Y/N, which has resulted in a child. For this reason, I have decided they will wed before the next full moon.

We will sail to Dragonstone immediately to discuss this with you and Daemon.

Viserys

Daemon could not help but chuckle. Rhaenyra gave him an amused look. “Care to share what is so funny?”

“It seems Jace and Y/N had been following in our footsteps without us realizing it.”

Rhaenyra chuckled as well, he was right. “I will go speak to him.”

She kissed him and walked to the training yard, where Jace and Luke were training, or messing around.

“Can you come here, Jace?” Rhaenyra called out. Jace excused himself and went up to her. She grabbed his hand, moving him to a more private area.

“What is it?” Jace questioned, worried.

Rhaenyra handed him the note. Jace read it, the color draining from his skin as he stared at her in shock. A child. Marriage. “How long have you two been together?”

“Since I was old enough to go riding on Vermax,” Jace confessed. Rhaenyra gave him an amused look.

“That's why you have been sneaking out so much,” she noted.

Jace’s eyes widened. “You knew?”

“Vermax is not the quietest dragon,” Rhaenyra reminded him. “And you disappeared for hours.”

“Are you angry with me?” He asked.

“No,” Rhaenyra admitted. “I did contemplate marrying you to her when I noticed how much you cared for each other but I knew Alicent was not going to agree.” Jace nodded in understanding. “Go tell your siblings, I am sure Luke is about to run here and ask what is going on.”

Rhaenyra caressed his cheek softly before leaving. Jace was feeling many emotions at once. He could only hope Y/N was doing well with the news. Despite how nervous he was, Jace was beaming. He was going to be a father.

By the following week, the Targaryens made their way to Dragonstone. Y/N was beaming with happiness, she was finally going to be with the man she truly loved. On the other side of the ship, Aemond was fuming. He hated it, the fact that Y/N had compromised herself in such a way by a bastard.

Once they were on dry land, Y/N walked ahead of them, getting more excited as she reached the top. The rest of her family walked at a normal pace, Viserys and Helaena being the happiest of them. Alicent and Aemond were drowning in their misery.

“Y/N!” Jace called out for her as they reached the main doors. She embraced him tightly, missing the warm feeling of being in his arms.

Rhaenyra and Daemon were happily watching the couple in front of them. They could not help but laugh at how history was repeating itself. Rhaenyra thought her son would be more traditional in the matter but she supported him.

While Viserys and Rhaenyra discussed wedding plans, Jace and Y/N sat together in the gardens. He had his back resting against a tree while Y/N sat between his legs, resting her back against his chest. Jace’s hands softly caressed her small bump.

“How have you been feeling?” He asked her.

“The sickness in the morning has been terrible,” Y/N confessed, “but the maester has been helping me with tea.”

Jace hummed. “Have you been in any pain?”

“No, fortunately not.” Y/N moved her head a little to look up at him.

He smiled at her, “I am glad you are here with me. When I read that note, all I wanted was to go find you.”

Aemond stared from a distance as the happy couple spoke and cuddled each other. He was feeling angrier than before, seeing his sister with him. He knew there was something between them, he always got the feeling but no matter how hard he tried, he never caught them together. All Aemond wanted was to eliminate Jace, however, he knew he would not leave Dragonstone alive if he killed him.

Months later

Jace cuddled his newborn son, Aelor, while Y/N rested. Her pregnancy was not the easiest, the Maester had ordered bedrest until the babe was born. She protested it, stating that spending months confined to a bed would drive her insane but Jace had convinced her to do as he said. The labors started in the afternoon. Jace ran frantically through the castle when he found out.

Their wedding was beautiful. It was hosted in the great hall of the Red Keep. The celebrations lasted for an entire week, filled with feasts and tourneys. Jace and Y/N were happy, they could not have asked for more. Alicent and Aemond were forced to join the festivities as they were still against their marriage. All the queen wanted to do was send Y/N to Oldtown but Viserys denied her request multiple times.

Years later, the family departed Dragonstone to go visit the king once again. Viserys always asked them to go see him, claiming he missed his daughter and his grandson. Although, the reality was that he missed them all.

Aelor was now four years young and he was a very energetic child. Jace did the best he could to keep up with him, yet it was too much to handle sometimes. The boy had sneaked out multiple times, even managing to get close to the dragons. Of course, Jace was on the verge of collapsing each time he did.

The entire family had gathered in the main hall to talk. The pitter-patter and the loud, child giggles echoed through. Aelor was glad to be there. He was a very curious boy, often stopping to stare at the decor around him.

Jace was speaking to Viserys when he felt a tug on his pants. Without hesitation, he lifted Aelor, placing him on his hip. The boy cuddled up to his father, tiredly rubbing his eyes. Y/N stood next to Jace to join the conversation.

“I do hope this future king has been behaving properly,” Viserys teased, smiling at his grandson.

Jace scoffed playfully, shaking his head. “I am slowly going insane.” As they gushed about the boy, Aemond stared at them from afar. Despite all the years that have passed, he still despised the idea of his sister marrying that bastard. He plotted many plans for years, searching for the best way to get her back to King’s Landing, without him. But there was one thing he could not deny, Y/N was happy.

#hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon x reader #a little bit of #aemond targaryen x reader

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gwenllian-in-the-abbey · 1 month

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Not fluent in English.

Please tell me I’m not the the only who noticed that team green characters in the show aren’t allowed to hate team black characters.

Like Aemond can’t even hate Lucerys for cutting his eye and disabled him for life.

And Alicent can’t hate Viserys for marrying and gr*ping her and forcing pregnancies on her, even though he have no intention to name any of their sons his heir, and treating her mostly like a caretaker and concubine rather than his lawful wife and the mother of his legitimate children.

Aegon and Helaena aren’t even allowed to hate Daemon the man who ordered the death of their Son.

Like why??? Why aren’t they allowed to hate them???

Hi aleksandra! You make a good point! I think there are a few things going on here.

For one, I think the writing is incredibly inconsistent across the board this season, and there are a lot of dropped plot threads. Some of it is intentional (like, I do think B&C was deliberately downplayed and undermined so that Alicent could have that Dragonstone scene, more on that in a bit), some of it I think is just bad writing and a kind of ... well, look, I can't speculate as to what goes down in the writer's room and have no idea what their workflow looks like or what processes they follow, but a problem going back to S1 is that characters and dialogue vary a lot from episode to episode. I don't think it's all that normal for a fandom to be concerned ahead of time about which writers will be writing which scenes and which episodes, but with HotD there seem to be huge differences in how each writer interprets the characters. Having worked on OFCIR collaboratively with @aifsaath, we work really hard to make sure the chapters are relatively consistent. I gave our first few chapters to my critique partner for original fiction, a guy who knows my writing inside and out, someone I've worked with for about 6 years now, @theravenpiper, and he could not actually tell which scenes were written by me, and which were written by Aife, which I took as a big complement to our collaborative process, and to our ability to edit to a uniform standard. Now I'm not saying we do it better than the HotD writers, but I do think that there is something missing from their collaborative process that makes the entire thing seem disjointed.

I do not think it is entirely that the whole of team green is not allowed to be angry at team black, although that is part of it, some of it is part of an overall bigger problem where major events are not allowed to resonate across the story, and I chalk some of it up to simple bad writing. Rhaenyra is apparently over Luke's death enough by E3 that she can seek out Alicent for some kind of vague "let's stop this madness" ploy, but still conveniently needs "a son for a son" in E8. Although Rhaenyra is negotiating from a position of power in E8, there was no reason for her to feel so desperate as of E3, when Rook's Rest hasn't even happened yet, that she would set aside her grief and anger and go seek peace. Peace was offered in E10 of season 1 and Rhaenyra turned it down after Luke died, so what has changed besides Rhaenyra's own husband beheading a toddler? Other events happen too and have little or no consequence. Rhaenyra and Mysaria kiss in E6 and it's entirely forgotten by E8, with zero follow up. Criston Cole is brought to his knees by the sight of Aegon lying injured by his dragon, but never even visits his bedside. Gwayne never interacts with anyone aside from Alicent and Criston. Rhaenyra sends her younger children to the Vale and never mentions them again (she is shown looking wistfully at a box of toys), nor does Jace. Laena in a vision berates Daemon for not looking after their girls, but does he ask after them when Broome shows up directly from Dragonstone? I could go on. Events just happening and then never really mattering again is a consistent problem throughout the season, which makes it hard to tell when it is happening deliberately and when it is happening because the writers can't get on the same page.

There are two things I do think are deliberate, however, one of them being the scrubbing of Viserys' image. While audiences loved Paddy's performance, a lot of viewers did pick up on how Viserys played favorites and neglected his sons, and I think when the show decided to switch up Alicent's motivation from "she wants to protect her children and knows they will face the sword if Rhaenyra comes to power" to "she misheard Viserys' last words," they knew that the natural question is, "why should she care about Viserys' last words?" A lot of the immediate feedback about that episode involved how Alicent was stupid for not knowing Otto planned to have Aegon take the throne, and a lot of people didn't think that Alicent (or Aegon for that matter) really believed that Viserys changed his mind, but apparently that was the writers' intention, that Alicent truly believed it and managed to convince Aegon (there's a lot I could say about how they could have included this deathbed misunderstanding into the plot without having it replace all of Alicent's other motivations, but they did not do that). So in order to drive home the point that the whole entire war is being fought due to this misunderstanding, they have to make sure the audience is clear that all of these characters considered Viserys a good king. Even if he was Alicent's rapist. Even if he was a deadbeat dad. Even if he was a terrible husband. We are meant to believe he chose Rhaenyra not because he was playing mindgames or out of guilt over Aemma's death, no we must believe he chose Rhaenyra because he was good and wise and to convince us he was good and wise we have to have the green characters reminding us constantly that things were so much better when Viserys was around, that Aegon is inferior to Viserys, that Viserys' wishes are all that matter. Nevermind that it goes directly against the book, never mind that it's not even a particularly powerful or interesting change, it's what enables Rhaenyra and Alicent's relationship to continue. Because here's the thing-- if Alicent put Aegon on the throne because she felt it was the only way to keep her family safe, and because she feels that law and tradition ARE on her side, and because absolutism isn't good (!!!) then there's no chance for her and Rhaenyra to ever reconcile. These are irreconcilable differences, not misunderstandings. And so the show has to glaze Viserys otherwise the basic reasoning falls apart.

And the second is the events like Luke's death, Blood and Cheese and Rook's Rest come in, events in which the greens or the blacks harm and traumatize each other directly. It is not that the greens are not allowed to hate the blacks, it is that Alicent is not allowed to hate Rhaenyra, and by extension, the people who Alicent cares about are not allowed to hate her (I would argue that Aemond is allowed to hate Luke on screen, he literally murders him, and I don't think the scene with the brothel madame is an expression of true remorse, it's more "I'm kinda sorta sorry there were consequences for my actions."). Alicent cares about Helaena the innocent, and therefore Helaena cannot be allowed to hate Rhaenyra (note Phia Saban's many interviews about how apolotical and neutral Helaena is). Aegon, on the other hand, can be affected by B&C because he is allowed to hate Rhaenyra. In fact, his hate for Rhaenyra puts him at odds with his mother, which is what the show wants. Aegon is gravely injured at Rook's Rest, but good thing Rhaenyra's forces did not cause the injuries, Alicent herself drove him to battle with cruel words, and Aemond burned him, which puts him at odds with Alicent too (and Helaena is allowed to express ire at Aemond by extension). If you look at S2 as an exercise in driving a wedge between Alicent and her family and downplaying what happens to them in order to justify their decision to have Alicent seek out Rhaenyra and surrender Aegon's life, it makes a lot more sense.

The thing is, it still doesn't work. Their efforts are much too transparent and require characters to act in ways that are simply not within the realms of how normal human beings would react to these situations, much less the characters established in S1. There is a twitter user, and I'm so sorry that I can't remember their name at the moment, but I've seen them express the sentiment several times that Alicent's character this season made them aware, in a way that a viewer should never be aware, that these are scripted lines coming out of her mouth. That is, a lot of the characters in S2 do not feel like actual people. Aegon is such a fan favorite this season because he feels real. Alicent garnered legions of fans last season because her struggle felt real, even if we didn't agree with it. She felt like a character who inhabited a quasi-medieval world, bound by restraints we are not bound by, but nevertheless a human with human reactions who had to make difficult choices and persevere through them. And any human would be angry beyond comprehension at Blood and Cheese, would lose all faith in Rhaenyra, would know that there can be no peace if she is ruling with a man that ruthless at her side. If she thinks her sons are devils (and mind, so far as king Aegon's most egregious action is executing a handful of ratcatchers after one of their number murdered his son, whereas Rhaenyra burned about 65 peasants alive in a quasi religious ecstasy-- will Alicent ever find out about that, I wonder?), they are at least the devils she knows. Better they all die than end up in Daemon's hands, surely? And so OP, you're right, they are not allowed to hate each other when naturally you, and many others, feel like they should. That is because they are writer creations who would never do such things as what happen in the books in the first place, acting out plot points of entirely different characters (their book counterparts).

#asks #aleksandravill #hotd critical #anti rhaenicent #blood and cheese #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #team green #anti alicent hightower #(show alicent only I don't know you girl)#anti rhaenyra targaryen

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mythicmanuscripts · 1 month

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hi! omg i absolutely adore all your stuff, it's so good, and the subby!boys with wife! reader is such a perfect dynamic.

would absolutely love to see more sub!jace being clingy and teary, and not wanting you to leave him at all -- maybe he's not feeling well or is sad about something going on and all he wants is to stay in your arms.

and maybe someone walks in on you and he gets so upset because your arms are his safe space and you need to soothe and comfort him?

honestly everything you write is amazing, sub!jace is literally my new obsession <3

Oh my god I love this!!! We’re all so obsessed with clingy sensitive Jace I love it.

While my answer definitely isn’t very graphic, it is definitely sub!jace with implied sexual content so I’m gonna hide it under the cut for those who don’t want to read that :))

So I think this works best when discussing how Jace would be once he’s more comfortable? For the first two or three months he’s mostly very put together and trying to impress you and be a good husband, he wants to prove himself.

You’d only ever seen him unsettled and needy during sex and immediately after. It was always such an odd change because he’d instantly go from being polite and withdrawn and sometimes even dominant to try and show he can provide for you but then you kiss him and get a hand in his hair and instantly his knees are buckling and he’s whining into your mouth. So for a while it’s mostly Jace being put together and then when he couldn’t manage that anymore there would be brief bursts of him being very very needy.

But as he starts to get more comfortable and starts to accept that you really do love him and would never leave him for showing you his emotions, then he starts to become a lot more like that clingy version of himself all the time?

Eventually he won’t try to hide when he’s upset or stop himself from begging you to stay longer or telling you he wants to leave a public event and be alone with you. You always listen and help him and he just feels so so good because you’re his wife and his biggest support.

(By the way, this is definitely something noticed by both the rest of the castle and Rhaenyra. They all can see how as your relationship progressed Jace becomes more clingy and stays by your side, going everywhere with you and pulling you into hugs in public. At first Jace is worried how his mother will react but actually she’s just so so happy for him? She knows exactly what it’s like to be married to someone you can’t love and so she gets teary eyed every time she sees how in love and Jace are because she knows if there’s one thing she’s certainly done right, it’s making sure her son marries the love of his life and no one else.)

Anyway, I think Jace would be the most clingy and needy after he’s been without you for a while? From your wedding night onwards (and let’s be a honest a few nights before that too), he’s always slept in the same bed as you. Even when he was still trying to uphold this tough facade, he would still insist on sleeping in the same bed as you and he wouldn’t be able to sleep into you came to bed.

But unfortunately there’s a war ongoing, and that means both of you are regularly sent on missions for days and sometimes weeks at a time. Jace isn’t too bad when he’s the one being sent somewhere. Of course he really really misses you, but he knows you’re safe at the castle and will be there when he returns.

The issue is when you’re the one sent out. He understands why he can’t come with and he’d never try to tell you that you can’t do it, but damn it he hates every single second without you. He spends the entire time you’re away worrying about you. He has horrible dreams of all the different ways you could be hurt or killed, he spends hours at a time sitting on the beach just staring into the distance in hopes he may spot you. Rhaenyra always tries her best to comfort him but it’s no real help and she knows she can’t do any more.

As a result of this, when you do return I think his nerves would always be completely shot? He’s spent the entire time you were away in a perpetual state of tension and anxiety and fear and so now that you’re back it’s almost like he crashes? He knows you’re safe and his body just can’t keep him running in this state anymore.

Everyone else knows not to get in front of Jace when you return. The moment you’re within reach he’s running down to you and pulling you into the tightest hug possible. He buries his head in your neck and you can feel his shoulders shake as he cries. You tell him you’re here now, you’re back, you’re safe. Eventually he’ll collapse into you and then you have to gently push him away and wrap an arm around his waist to help him back to your shared quarters.

The first time you went on a mission after marrying Jace, some members of the council made the mistake of rushing over the moment your hug with Jace ended and started asking for updates. Jace very nearly had them killed and the only reason they’re still alive is because his mother thankfully realised what was happening and told everyone that they’d only get a debrief on your mission the next morning because she can see Jace is at the end of his rope.

He’s so shamelessly clingy for the entire evening. He never lets you out of his sight and cries if you even think about moving. He needs be with you for the entire time so that he can slowly begin to accept that you’re alright and you’re back with him.

You spend more whole time in bed with him in various states of undress. It always starts with Jace begging to undress you and be allowed to take a bath with you. At this point his motives aren’t even sexual. He wants to make sure you don’t have any injuries anywhere and because it’s been so long since he last submitted, he really wants to please you and do acts of service for you.

Of course you agree to both and he’s so so gentle.

The problem comes from whenever sometimes comes into the room. A few other councils members will always inevitably try to come in and ask you about how the trip is, but there’s also the servants and Jace gets unsettled no matter who is in the room during those times.

It takes at least an hour of cuddling before Jace will be ready to hear about what happened during your mission because first he just has to accept that you’re actually there and safe.

And good luck to anyone who opens that door because Jace will immediately cling to you and never let go. He’s been without you for far too long and you can’t just speak to someone else now. He’s your husband and for once he will use that to his advantage and demand uninterrupted times with you.

#sub!jacaerys #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacaerys x you #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys smut #house of the dragon #jacaerys x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys strong #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd

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aegoneggon · 16 days

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GRRM's post since he deleted it

Back in July, I promised you some further thoughts about Blood and Cheese… and Maelor the Missing… after my commentary on the first two episodes of HotD season 2, “A Son for a Son” and “Rhaenyra the Cruel.”

Those were terrific episodes: well written, well directed, powerfully acted. A great way to kick off the new season. Fans and critics alike seemed to agree. There was only one aspect of the episodes that drew significant criticism: the handling of Blood and Cheese, and the death of Prince Jaehaerys. From the commentary I saw on line, opinion was split there. The readers of FIRE & BLOOD found the sequence underwhelming, a disappointment, watered down from what they were expecting. Viewers who had not read the book had no such problems. Most of them found the sequence a real gut-punch, tragic, horrifying, nightmarish, etc. Some reported being reduced to tears.

I found myself agreeing with both sides.

In my book, Aegon and Helaena have three children, not two. The twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, are six years old. They have a younger brother, Maelor, who is two. When Blood and Cheese break in on Helaena and the kids, they tell her they are debt collectors come to exact revenge for the death of Prince Lucerys: a son for a son. As Helaena has two sons, however, they demand that she choose which one should die. She resists and offers her own life instead, but the killers insist it has to be a son. If she does not name one, they will kill all three of the children. To save the life of the twins, Helaena names Maelor. But Blood kills the older boy, Jaehaerys, instead, while Cheese tells little Maelor that his mother wanted him dead. (Whether the boy is old enough to understand that is not at all certain).

That’s not how it happens on the show. There is no Maelor in HOUSE OF THE DRAGON, only the twins (both of whom look younger than six, but I am no sure judge of children’s ages, so I can’t be sure how old they are supposed to be). Blood can’t seem to tell the twins apart, so Helaena is asked to reveal which one is the boy. (You would think a glance up his PJs would reveal that, without involving the mother). Instead of offering her own life to save the kids, Helaena offers them a necklace. Blood and Cheese are not tempted. Blood saws Prince Jaehaerys’s head off. We are spared the sight of that; a sound effect suffices. (In the book, he lops the head off with a sword).

It is a bloody, brutal scene, no doubt. How not? An innocent child is being butchered in front of his mother.

I still believe the scene in the book is stronger. The readers have the right of that. The two killers are crueler in the book. I thought the actors who played the killers on the show were excellent… but the characters are crueler, harder, and more frightening in FIRE & BLOOD. In the show, Blood is a gold cloak. In the book, he is aformer gold cloak, stripped of his office for beating a woman to death. Book Blood is the sort of man who might think making a woman choose which of her sons should die is amusing, especially when they double down on the wanton cruelty by murdering the boy she tries to save. Book Cheese is worse too; he does not kick a dog, true, but he does not have a dog, and he’s the one who tells Maelor that his mom wants him head. I would also suggest that Helaena shows more courage, more strength in the book, by offering her own own life to save her son. Offering a piece of jewelry is just not the same.

As I saw it, the “Sophie’s Choice” aspect was the strongest part of the sequence, the darkest, the most visceral. I hated to lose that. And judging from the comments on line, most of the fans seemed to agree.

When Ryan Condal first told me what he meant to do, ages ago (back in 2022, might be) I argued against it, for all these reasons. I did not argue long, or with much heat, however. The change weakened the sequence, I felt, but only a bit. And Ryan had what seemed to be practical reasons for it; they did not want to deal with casting another child, especially a two-year old toddler. Kids that young will inevitably slow down production, and there would be budget implications. Budget was already an issue on HOUSE OF THE DRAGON, it made sense to save money wherever we could. Moreover, Ryan assured me that we were not losing Prince Maelor, simply postponing him. Queen Helaena could still give birth to him in season three, presumably after getting with child late in season two. That made sense to me, so I withdrew my objections and acquiesced to the change.

I still love the episode, and the Blood and Cheese sequence overall. Losing the “Helaena’s Choice” beat did weaken the scene, but not to any great degree. Only the book readers would even notice its absence; viewers who had never read FIRE & BLOOD would still find the scenes heart-rending. Maelor did not actually DO anything in the scene, after all. How could he? He was only two years old.

There is another aspect to the removal of the young princeling, however.

Those of you who hate spoilers should STOP READING HERE. Spoilers will follow, at least for the readers among you. If you have never read FIRE & BLOOD, maybe it does not matter, because all I am going to “spoil” here are things that happen in the book that may NEVER happen on the series. Starting with Maelor himself.

Sometime between the initial decision to remove Maelor, a big change was made. The prince’s birth was no longer just going to be pushed back to season 3. He was never going to be born at all. The younger son of Aegon and Helaena would never appear.

Most of you know about the Butterfly Effect, I assume.

Yes, there was a movie with that title a few years back. It’s a familiar concept in chaos theory as well. But most science fiction fans were first exposed to the idea in Ray Bradbury’s classic time travel story, “A Sound of Thunder,” wherein a time traveler from the present panics and crushes a butterfly while hunting a T-Rex. When he returns to his own time, he discovers that the world has changed in huge and frightening ways. One dead butterfly has rewritten history. The lesson being that change begets change, and even small and seemingly insignificant alterations to a timeline — or a story — can have a profound effect on all that follows.

Maelor is a two year old toddler in FIRE & BLOOD, but like our butterfly he has an impact on the story all out of proportion to his size. The readers among you may recall that when it appears that Rhaenyra and her blacks are about to capture King’s Landing, Queen Alicent becomes concerned for the safety of Helaena’s remaining children, and takes steps to save them by smuggling them out of the city. The task is given is two knights of the Kingsguard. Ser Willis Fell is commanded to deliver Princess Jaehaera to the Baratheons at Storm’s End, while Maelor is given over to Ser Rickard Thorne to be escorted across the Mander to the protection of the Hightower army on its way to King’s Landing.

Willis Fell delivers Jaehaera safely to the Baratheons at Storm’s End, but Ser Rickard fares less well. He and Maelor get as far as Bitterbridge, where he is revealed as a Kingsuard in a tavern called the Hogs Head. Once discovered, Ser Rickard fights bravely to protect his young charge and bring him to safety, but he does not even make it across the bridge before some crossbows bring him down, Prince Maelor is torn from his arms.. and then, sadly, ripped to pieces by the mob fighting over the boy and the huge reward that Rhaenyra has offered for his capture and return.

Will any of that appear on the show? Maybe… but I don’t see how. The butterflies would seem to prohibit it. You could perhaps make Ser Rickard’s ward be Jaehaera instead of Maelor, but Jaehaera can’t be killed, she has a huge role to play as Aegon’s next heir. Could maybe make Maelor a newborn instead of a two year old, but that would scramble up the timeline, which is a bit of a mess already. I have no idea what Ryan has planned — if indeed he has planned anything — but given Maelor’s absence from episode 2, the simplest way to proceed would be just to drop him entirely, lose the bit where Alicent tries to send the kids to safety, drop Rickard Thorne or send him with Willis Fell so Jaehaera has two guards.

From what I know, that seems to be what Ryan is doing here. It’s simplest, yes, and may make sense in terms of budgets and shooting schedules. But simpler is not better. The Bitterbridge scene has tension, suspense, action, bloodshed, a bit of heroism and a lot of tragedy. Rickard Thorne is a tertiary character at best, most viewers (as opposed to readers) will never know he is gone, since they never knew him at all… but I rather liked giving him his brief moment of heroism, a taste of the courage and loyalty of the Kingsguard, regardless of whether they are black or green.

The butterflies are not done with us yet, however. In the book, when word of Prince Maelor’s death and the grisly manner of his passing (pp. 505) reaches the Red Keep, that proves to be the thing that drives Queen Helaena to suicide. She could barely stand to look at Maelor, knowing that she chose him to die in the “Sophie’s Choice” scene… and now he is dead in truth, her words having come true. The grief and guilt are too much for her to bear.

In Ryan’s outline for season 3, Helaena still kills herself… for no particular reason. There is no fresh horror, no triggering event to overwhelm the fragile young queen.

And the final butterfly follows soon thereafter.

Queen Helaena, a sweet and gentle soul, is much beloved by the smallfolk of King’s Landing. Rhaenyra was not, so when rumors began to arise that Helaena did not kill herself, but rather was murdered at Rhaenyra’s command, the commons are quick to believe them. “That night King’s Landing rose in bloody riot,” I wrote on p. 506 of FIRE & BLOOD. It is the beginning of the end for Rhaenyra’s rule over the city, ultimately leading to the Storming of the Dragonpit and the rise of the Shepherd’s mob that drives Rhaenyra to flee the city and return to Dragonstone… and her death.

Maelor by himself means little. He is a small child, does not have a line of dialogue, does nothing of consequence but die… but where and when and how, that does matter. Losing Maelor weakened the end of the Blood and Cheese sequence, but it also cost us the Bitterbridge scene with all its horror and heroism, it undercut the motivation for Helaena’s suicide, and that in turn sent thousands into the streets and alleys, screaming for justice for their “murdered” queen. None of that is essential, I suppose… but all of it does serve a purpose, it all helps to tie the story lines together, so one thing follows another in a logical and convincing manner.

What will we offer the fans instead, once we’ve killed these butterflies? I have no idea. I do not recall that Ryan and I ever discussed this, back when he first told me they were pushing back on Aegon’s second son. Maelor himself is not essential… but if losing him means we also lose Bitterbridge, Helaena’s suicide, and the riots, well… that’s a considerable loss.

And there are larger and more toxic butterflies to come, if HOUSE OF THE DRAGON goes ahead with some of the changes being contemplated for seasons 3 and 4…

GRRM

#thank god i still had it loaded up on my phone lol #i feel bad people are actually megapissed at him for this post like #wtf he was so based for it #i know people are shitting and pissing themselves over #'WHERE WAS THIS ENERGY FOR S8 ?????!?!?!?'#stfu he clearly blames himself a bit for s8 #since the main series isnt finished #but f&b is completed and the dance is written out plainly and yet hotd managed to go completely off script like #wtf....

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maria-tries-to-write · 2 years

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Hi! I saw that your requests are open, if it's ok and within your rules, I can ask, Aemond being obsessed with his half sister (daughter of Aemma and Viserys), who defended him after the Driftmark incident, along with Alicent

Aemond Targaryen being obsessed with his half-sister would include:

A/N: I feel horned to wright you ask, my dear anon! I'm deeply sorry, I think maybe run a little out the topic, but nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it! Also, PLEASE, READ THE WARNINGS!

SUMMARY: the journey of Aemond Targaryen, trying to have a taste of the forbidden fruit: his own half sister.

WR: f!reader, reader has long hair, violence, murderer, fire, mentions of groping, non-con groping, Aemond being Aemond. Once again, PLEASE, READ THE WARNINGS!

WORDS: +4.2k

Being the second daughter of Viserys and Aemma meant getting the utmost care and affection from your dear father, the king.

Also meaning being completely despised by your older sister’s ex best friend, Alicent, now Queen of the seven kingdoms.

Alicent done everything to make sure her kids hated the blacks as much as she did, poisoning their minds with paranoias and conspiracy thoughts; however, none of this seemed to change the mind of her second son, Aemond.

Being considerably older than him, you, Rhaenyra’s younger sister, were the prince’s object of affection, much to his mother distaste.

You’ve always thought how cute your half-little-brother clung to you at every royal event or sought your presence at the Red Keep.

Since he was just a kid, you couldn’t help but indulge on his clingy tendencies.

Without fail, Aemond always ran to your comfort when he was feeling too overwhelmed by Aegon’s bullying, burying his face on the space between your shoulder and neck.

You would calmly soothe him down, rubbing his back and lightly rocking him side to side.

However, time proved to be harsh, making you face a cruel dilemma.

It was night at Driftmark, everyone were supposed to be sleeping, yet, the shouts put everyone on their feet, looking for the commotion.

You slammed the doors open, facing little Aemond being stitched up by the maester.

You gasped, horrified, running to his side, but you were violently shoved by Alicent, who were throwing daggers with her fiercely gaze.

“You, stay away from my son!” you wobbled a few steps back. Aemond seeing this, got up from his chair, yelling at his own mother, but unfortunately got even more hurt in the processes by the pinching of the needle.

“Sweetheart, calm down, I’m here—“ “Don’t touch me!” Aemond shout out, slapping his mother’s hand away from him.

Viserys, trying to keep the situation under control, asked to Alicent to let you pass, which she complied with resistance.

Seeing her son immediately hugging your waist while rubbing his cheek on the fabric of your nightgown, made her bitter. This was supposed to be her job, giving comfort to her son on this difficult situation; not her rival’s sister.

After all the commotion and Rhaenyra being stabbed by Alicent, you were tasked to stay with Aemond on the nursery, again, by the prince’s begging and to his mother distaste. One more time, Alicent felt rejected by her own son.

Her only wish were to let Ser Cole stay with you at her son’s bed, fearing that Rhaenyra, who were sleeping at the nursery as well, attempted against the prince’s life.

Now at the ward, with a damp cloth, you cleaned the caked blood on Aemond’s hair. Brushing your fingers through his locks, you said “Some day, you will have the most beautiful silver hair of the kingdom.”

“Do you like… my hair?” the now one eyed prince asked, thanking the gods the lights weren’t strong enough to show his flaming cheeks.

You laughed, delighted by his cuteness “Of course I like, silly! Unfortunately, you’ll have to take a lot of baths to wash away the reddish stains.”

Aemond took a mental note to never cut his hair ever again.

“May I ask you something?”

With a gentle smile, you agreed “Of course!”

“Why did you defend me? Why didn’t you defended your nephews?”

You took a moment to pick the most appropriated words “Even though I’m very disappointed at your words, I would never wish any harm to come for any of you.”

Sensing the drop of your mood, the prince asked what happened. Sighing, you explained “Me and my sister will leave the Red Keep, Aemond.”

The little prince’s life turned upside down. Widening his only eye, he begged for an explanation, trying to cover his wobbly voice.

“Me and my sister talked and we decided that Red Keep is no longer safe for us.” “What do you mean?! I have Vaghar! The biggest dragon in the seven kingdoms! I can protect you!” he fisted your arms, as if you were going to vanish in front of him.

You lightly chuckled, petting his cheek “I appreciate your efforts, my brave prince, but our family is in the verge of a war. Leaving and letting things calm down is the best decision for now.”

“But…I don’t want you to leave! Take me with you, if needed, but please, don’t leave me alone!” now full crying, he caged you on his frail embrace, sobbing uncontrollably.

Returning his hug, you brought him to your lap, taking extra care to not touch his fresh wound “My little prince, you know I can’t bring you with me, your mother would kill me. It do hurt me to separate from you, but you must understand that there’s no other way. Besides, there’s nothing stoping me from visiting you or sending you ravens!”

Aemond stoped crying, now just enjoying your warm embrace as long as he could “But it won’t be the same…” “I know, my love, but it’s just a provisional measure. I’ll reunite with you sooner or later.” You said finally, kissing him gently on the top of his head.

The next morning, everyone prepared for your sudden departure. Rhaenyra informed you it would be better if you leaved as soon as possible, which Aemond strongly disagreed.

Out of the castle, your dragons waited for you, already equipped with everyone of your belongings. Turning to say good bye to your favorite prince, you and Aemond shared a hug; obviously with everything monitored by Alicent.

Seeing you flying away shattered his heart in a billion pieces. It felt like he couldn’t breath, as if a hole opened up on his chest. He felt lonely. Never wanting to feel this way ever again, Aemond promised that the next time he saw you, he wouldn’t let you go.

The years passed. Every single day, religiously, Aemond wrote you a letter, informing you of everything he did or planned to do in the day.

You happily read all of his letters, glad to know that the young boy was not as depressed as you thought he would be due to your departure.

So, as fast as you could, you wrote him back as eager as him, alway commenting something he told on his own letters, just so he knew you read and payed attention to every single word he draw on the paper.

But, after a few months, Aemond stopped receiving your letters. It came to a point where he would spend all day pestering the servants interrogating the whereabouts of your letters.

Completing a whole month of no news about you, Aemond snapped. He destroyed his bed chambers, breaking the furniture, slashing the curtains and ripping his book off the shelves.

Ser Cole and Harold were sent to contain the enraged prince, who kept screaming and kicking, while the Queen tried to reason with her son.

When the prince stopped slashing around and started to cry, Alicent cocooned him on her lap, “She promised” he murmured between sobs “she promised she’d never leave me…”

Years passed. Daemon and Rhaenyra, now husband and wife, travelled to King’s Landing to defend Jacaerys and Lucerys right to the iron and driftwood throne. Not passing this opportunity, you flied along with them to the Red Keep.

It’s been a long time since you received a letter from your favorite little-half-brother. You were a little hurt at the beginning, but then you started to be a little reasonable: maybe he was busy with Vaghar or his training. So, you opted to send Alicent letters asking for permission to visit her son. Unfortunately, you never got a response.

After the coldly reception of Alicent and Otto, you accompanied your two nephews to the training grounds.

Immediately, you spotted a man with wide shoulders and a beautifully long silver hair cascading his broad back. He was sparring against Ser Cole, your sister’s late knight.

Making Criston surrender, applauses erupted from the grounds. “Well done, my Prince.” congratulated the knight, still panting “You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys” he dismissed Criston’s flattery “Nephews, have you come to train?”

Aemond turned to Lucerys and Jacaerys, but he was caught by surprise when his eye landed on you.

Ethereal as ever, your now longer hair was braided expertly on a beautiful bun, assenting your features. The heart of the one eyed prince beat uncontrollably inside his chest.

Sensing his eyes upon you, you greeted him “My prince, it’s been a while.”

Aemond, not knowing how to carry with the conversation, agreed “Yes, it’s been, my dear half-sister.”

Seeing the interaction between the royal family, the crowd started to dissipate. Jacaerys e Lucerys left the training grounds as well, glad that the prince’s attention was not on them anymore.

Now all alone, you approached the eye-patched prince “Can we talk?” not taking no as an answer, you locked your hands on his arm, making Aemond get stiff.

So many years has passed, but you still caused him the same effect. Silently, the prince enjoyed the innocent contact, loving the felling of your torso rubbing against his toned arm.

“Long ago, you stopped sending me letters. Why?” you asked, bluntly.

“You never answered them, so I stopped writing.”

Stopping in your tracks, looking straight into his eye “The few that I received, I answered them right away. But suddenly, you stopped writing. Why?”

Scoffing, the prince replied “As I said before, my dear half-sister, you stopped writing, so did I.”

“I never stopped trying to reach you out, Aemond. I even sent your mother a raven, but she said you did not want to see me. So I ask again, my dear prince, why did you put me on arms length?”

Immediately, something clicked inside the Targaryen’s prince head. Obviously it was the doings of his own mother; she never liked you in the first place. But Aemond thought that, at least, after the incident at Driftmark, Alicent would warm up to you, but apparently, he thought wrong.

His blood started to boil. How dare his mother try to stay in the way between you two? His nostrils flared up; he locked his jaw tightly, gritting his teeth.

Feeling your soft hand, now smaller than his, interlocking your fingers pulled him away from his enraged state “Aemond, what—“ “I’m really sorry about this misunderstanding.” he apologized, engaging a hug.

Got by surprise, you hesitantly put your hands on his back, slowly giving into his embrace.

Aemond finally felt at peace. Feeling your hands around him and how his toned arms circled your waist, almost made him forget of his rage against his mother, almost. Sniffing your scent for the last time, the prince left you, promising to talk and explain everything to you after he was done with his business.

Dropping his reassuring smile, the prince stormed into the keep, going straight to his mother’s bed chambers.

Not even greeting Ser Cole, Aemond locked the doors as soon as he passed through them, only listening to the knight’s knocking.

Hearing all the commotion, Alicent beelined to her living room, facing her second son “Aemond? What are you doing here? You can’t enter my bed chambers like that, what if—“ “Spear me from your lecture, mother.”

Feeling shocked by her son’s harsh words, she continued “And this is how you speak to your mother? Your queen?”

Aemond smirked, mockingly. Suddenly, the young man caught his mother by her throat, lightly lifting her from the floor, letting her balance herself on her tiptoes “Don’t pull the ‘your Queen’ card right now, mother. If you haven’t noticed, my patience is running thin.”

Alicent fisted her son’s wrist, trying to sooth his grip. Seeing that he not even bulged, she cried out “Aemond, plea—“ “As I said before, my patience is ending. I’ll give you one chance, and believe me when I say few got this benefit: did you barred my half-sister’s letters?”

The queen’s eyes winded, but she stayed silent, probably paralyzed by fear. Seeing her state, Aemond did not needed a verbal answer: just looking at her gave away her guiltiness.

He let her break free, making Alicent instantly tear to the ground, coughing and gasping for air, uncontrollably.

Aemond’s jaw was tightly shut. Feeling betrayed by his own mother, he started to rant “You knew how important she was to me, and still, you deprived me of seeing her and did not even let me get news from her! You left me in the dark, and you saw how it was killing me, but even so, you did nothing!”

The prince’s voice escalated along with his rage, which was increasing with time. Feeling the need to take his anger on something, he threw the coffe table against the wall, making the Queen gasp in horror.

“Aemond,” she tried to reason with her son “I did this only to protect you! I thrust her as much as you do, but you must understand that the circumstances—“ “Don’t you dare lie to me again!” he slammed his hands on another table “Admit you were jealous of her, of her proximity to me. You always despised her, there’s no need to lie!”

Rilling up as well, Alicent exploded “Of course I always hated her! She’s Rhaenyra’s sister, Aemond! She would do anything to help her kin! To stole your brother’s throne!” with tear cascading her cheeks, she continued, approaching her son “And of course I was jealous, Aemond! You’re my son! Mine! But you never ran up to me when you were sad, hurt or happy! It was always her! Even at Driftmark, when her own nephew stabbed your eye, you ran up to her! You didn’t even let me accompany you at the nursery! And—“

Sobs interrupted her speech. But now that she started to talk, she was not going to back off “Do you think she genuinely loves you, Aemond? Like I do?”

The prince looked at her with warning eye “Watch your tongue.”

Feeling bold, Alicent continued, not listening to her son’s threat, facing him fearlessly “Don’t you ever thought that, maybe, she just treated you well to do this? Put you against me? Your own mother? Don’t you ever thought that she’s as cruel, manipulative and a whore as much as her—“ “Don’t you dare talk about her like that!”

Aemond pounced on her mother, now fully strangling her. His knuckles were white with his bruising grip, eye completely fogged by hatred. His nostrils was flaring up, teeth gritting madly.

With the little oxygen that lasted on her lungs, Alicent was able to call out to Ser Criston Cole, who immediately opened the doors, running to save the Queen.

Along with the knight were Otto Hightower, who coincidentally were passing by his daughter’s corridor.

“What in the seven hells happened here?” the hand lord exasperated, demanding an answer.

“We had a heated discussion, father” Alicent explained with her voice sore due to her son’s strangulation.

Sensing he wouldn’t get no more details about the incident, Otto coughed, as if putting an end to the matter “I was going to remind you of tonight’s dinner, which begins on a few minutes. Our king decided to attend it, so I was going to ask my Queen to ask her children to be on their best behavior.” Otto gave Aemond a meaningful look.

“I don’t care what this discussion was about. What matters is that this behavior can’t happen again during the dinner. Are we clear?” Alicent silently nodded, while Aemond stayed motionless by his grandfather speech.

Later, the whole house Targaryen sat at the fancy dining room. An uncomfortable silence dominated the group, tension so thick it could be cut by a knife.

King Viserys, as usual, tried to reason with his family that was bound to break in two, yet only he denied to see the truth “With that being said,” the sick king, with the help of his loyal wife, stayed up “me and my dear second daughter discussed and agreed that, in the name of peace, she shall be betrothed to her half-brother, Aegon Targaryen.”

Aemond’s heart stopped beating. The whole time, his infuriated gaze was directed to his mother, who would avert her own with all of her might; but now, he gazed incredulously to his father. He didn’t even notice when he stood up from his chair, flying to his mother’s throat.

Caos broke loose in the room. The king was immediately withdrawn from the scene, leaving Daemon alongside the others guards to separate the infuriated prince from the Queen.

On the other side of the chamber, you saw how animalisticly your dear little half-brother acted. He was no longer that sweet boy that easily cried with his older brother’s bullying: now he was a man, and a very dangerous one.

You cried hopelessly: how things take a turn like that? You thought that agreeing to the betrothal, you could finally reunite your family, but instead, here you are, seeing who was once your favorite person in the world trying to kill his own mother.

Even though Aemond were the best swordsman on the realm, he were not able to defeat Daemon and all of the Keep’s guards. “Lead the Prince to the dungeon. Tomorrow morning we will discuss with the small council what shall be decided of the prince’s future.” as Otto commanded, the guards escorted Aemond, who was now unconscious.

You offered yourself to accompany Alicent to the nursery to check upon her bruised throat. As expected, Ser Cole went along, only a few feet away from you.

“I’m so sorry with what happened, my Queen.” you morned, while helping Alicent walk through the hallway “I know prince Aemond since he was just a little kid. I would never expect such a horrifying act from him. It seems like I don’t even know him anymore.”

Moaning in pain, Alicent commented “I think both of us never truly knew him.”

Getting to the nursery, seeing the state of their Queen, the maids promptly took and laid her on a bed reserved to the royal family.

Staying by her side, she started to softly cry “I never should have tried to stay between you two, you know?”

Trying to stop her crying, you gently brushed her messed hair out of her face “Shhh… I must confess I don’t know what you are talking about, my Queen, but you shouldn’t be blaming yourself for what happened.”

Giving you a saddened smile, Queen Alicent continued to apologize “I appreciate your kind words, my dear, but I do have a portion of guilt on Aemond’s behavior.”

Gulping, you finally asked “If I may ask you: what could you have done to make him have such a reaction, my Queen?”

Seeing your confused eyes and caring acts, she confessed “I barred all of your letters to prince Aemond, and I also lied about him not wanting to see you.” your heart clenched, but still continued to sooth her hair down.

“And why would you do that? What would you gain from it?”

Alicent nipped her lips “I was afraid and jealous. My paranoia took over me. I was convinced that you were only being nice with my son just to destroy my family. Also, I’ve always envied how close you two were. Aemond never loved me like he loves you.”

“Nonsense, my Queen. Aemond always told me how he wished to make you proud. That’s why he’s so dedicated.” you brushed her off, with a little giggle.

“Well, it can also be true, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried his best just to impress you, my dear. My son’s crush on you didn’t go unnoticed by me back in the days.” she too giggled, remembering how flustered the boy got when others brought you up. Obviously, back than she disapproved vehemently, but seeing how caring you are, Alicent couldn’t blame his son for falling for you.

“You are so gentle and caring, I don’t blame my son for falling for you.” she looked straight into your eyes “I’m sorry for making things come to this point. If I never have felt insecure and suspicious of you, things would may be different.” she sobbed once again, feeling regret consuming her soul.

“Don’t blame yourself, my Queen. You did what you thought was right to protect your son.” you embraced her, like you used to embrace Aemond. Feeling her tears stain your dress, you let Alicent pour her heart out.

Calming a little, she sat up, encasing your hands between hers “Now that I know your genuine feelings, I must apologize for misjudging you. Yet, now that I know my son’s true colors, I’m afraid I’ve put you in danger my dear. I don’t want my son to rot on a cell, but my heart wouldn’t bear to bring you anymore harm.”

Your reassuring smile faltered. If Aemond was able to hurt his own mother, you feared what he could do to you. But even so, a part of you still believed he would never touch you.

Cupping your cheeks, Alicent continued “Now, listen to me, dear. It’s clear that Aemond is completely obsessed with you, and he won’t stop until he gets what he wants. We must take this opportunity, and send you as far as we can!”

You looked perplexed at her “Wait, but what about my betrothal? And my family? You?! What makes you so confident that Aemond won’t go after you for answers?”

Grunting in frustration, Alicent still insisted “We and the council will figure something out. Please, let me help you scape, as a form of apologizing for all the caos I brought to you.”

With the Queen’s begging, you couldn’t help but agree with her plan. Unfortunately, your conspiracy plans was cut short due to the shouts coming outside the nursery.

“Fire!”

Smelling the scent of smoke, you looked terrified at the Queen who ordered “Fast, we must reach the outside!”

Throwing her arm o your shoulders, you and Queen Alicent stumbled through the flaming hallways, crumbling with the fire.

Finally reaching the gardens, you could breath properly, coughing out the smoke off of your lungs. Once again, your feelings of security was throw out the window when you heard a loud roar.

Immediately, Vaghar stomped on the Keep’s wreckages, spitting fire at the only way out of the garden.

“Shit.” Alicent cussed, trying to stand up doing to the impact of Vaghar’s landing “We are cornered!”

Feeling despair pumping on your veins, you tried to run anywhere, getting the Queen’s wrist.

However, sensing her stillness, you turned back, facing Alicent being impaled by Aemond’s sword.

Letting out a gasp of horror, you let go of her wrist, trying to run away, but you stumbled, falling to the floor.

Retrieving his sword and cleaning it, Aemond tuck it on his belt again, now approaching you warily. “There’s no need to be afraid. Now no one can stop us from staying together.”

“You killed her…” you stated, still in shock, while gazing at her dead body a few feets away from you.

Cooing at you, like you used to do to him when he was still a child, he tuck a strand of hair that stubbornly stayed on you face “I had to, or else, they wouldn’t let us be together. Now we are free to do as we please; we could even marry.”

“…marry?” you repeated his words, dumbfounded “but, I’m already betrothed to your brother, and I never saw you in—“ “Shhh… there’s no need to worry your pretty little head about this right now, okay? That drunkard is no longer of our concern, I already took care of him.”

Still petting your hair, you scrambled with your words “I-But… I don’t want to marry you! You were my little brother, remember? I could never see you in that way!”

Aemond let out a joyous laugh, too excited to finally have you all to himself to be angry at your denial “Don’t worry, darling; you’ll have enough time to you recognize me as a man, and in the future, as your husband.”

You didn’t react when the prince’s lips crashed hungrily at yours. In your catatonic state, you could only think about how your life came to this moment, being fervidly groped by the man you once adored. Your family was dead. Now, you were all alone with your little half-brother, who claimed you as his. Realizing your future, you could only cry silently.

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