#is one of the most important moments for aemond and aegon

[fruitageoforanges]

Definitive thoughts on rook's rest post, maybe? I haven't seen many metas about how aemond and helaena must have felt about. That.

oh yes... 'definitive' thoughts maybe not so much, as i'm never good at 'definitive', but i do have thoughts.

i've actually written something in one of my fics about aemond's reaction to rook's rest, which sums up some of my thoughts:

He remembers Aegon after Rook’s Rest. The smell of him, burnt meat and rot. Blood, sharp, cloying. It was the smell of death; the maesters who slaved to save his charred flesh hung bundles of flowers to try to dispel it, but it clung on all the same, sour mixing with sweet. Recalling it brings sharp nausea to his mouth. No-one ever said it — the king may die . To do so would be treason, and Aemond isn’t sure what he would’ve done if one of the maesters told him to his face. After spending nights sat by Aegon’s bed, sword laid across his knees, he was wild enough to fight the Stranger themself if they came for his brother.

as much as it's a pivotal moment for aegon, it's also something of a pivotal moment for aemond. what we know of him is that he doesn't like aegon, but for all his cunty remarks like 'the crown looks better on me', he doesn't usurp him when he has the chance, and at storm's end he directly accuses luke of trying to steal his brother's throne. there's a deep vein of duty and love there, however complex. also, aemond was the one who killed meleys at rook's rest — i think watching aegon burn drove him a little wild. aegon, as the eldest brother, is the thing that has defined aemond's entire life, and it's probably the first time he's had to confront losing him. so: rage and grief enough for there to be nothing left of rhaenys but bones, and likely frustration that he can't just fight the stranger to heal aegon.

for helaena... obviously this is post-b&c, so she isn't mentally well, but i think she probably foresaw rook's rest in some capacity. and as/after it happened she just got this sick sense of certainty, that once again tragedy has struck her family, once again she was given advance warning but it was all for nothing, nothing changed, doom is overtaking them bit by bit and there's nothing she can do to stop it.

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun

Aemond Targaryen x Female reader

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

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

Word count: 11.5 K

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

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

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

~~

He was used to playing for second best.

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

But never from her.

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

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

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

She made his miserable heart full. 

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

He never believed he was worthy of her love. 

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

~~

It was a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day.

A day Aemond was dreading. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the socialization he dreaded. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s been too long, my friend.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Viserys laughed and looked at his friend. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked at him first. 

She smiled at him first.

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

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

~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s in her tree.”

“Her tree?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you like to sit?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re beautiful.”

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

“Do you draw?”

“No, nowhere near as well as you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re quite the flatterer, Aemond.”

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

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

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

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

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

~~

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

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

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

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

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Darling?”

“I was.” 

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

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

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

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

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

They couldn’t say no to her. 

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

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

~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You would do that?”

“Of course.” He insisted.

“That would be wonderful.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had never felt so important. 

~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

“What is this thing?”

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

“That’s a beetle.”

“They’re not poisonous, are they?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Finding bugs. Would you like to join?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing here?”

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

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

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

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

“Here.”

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

Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes at the pair. 

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

“You two are pathetic.”

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

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

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

“Do what?”

“Antagonize him.” 

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

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

“Why would anything happen to me?”

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

“Yes, and he’s an absolute cock.”

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

~~

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

She recognized the boy immediately. 

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

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

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

“Nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I just want to go to my chambers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Were you in the dragon pit again?”

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

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

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

“They gave me a pig.”

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

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

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

“Aemond-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You would want me there?”

“Of course I would.” 

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

~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aemond!” 

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

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

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

“Why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

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

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

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

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

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

She turned to her friend and shuffled closer to him. 

“You could never intrude.”

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

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

“I’d rather be with you.”

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

She chose him. 

No one had ever chosen him.

~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he alright?”

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

“The Maesters say he has lost an eye.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where is he?”

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

“What happened?” She asked breathlessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The Prince does not wish for any visitors.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stayed silent, his frown deepening in despair. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aemond, I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~

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

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

“Darling?”

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

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

“I’m fine.”

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

“Was it not what you expected?”

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

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

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

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

“Aemond?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know what to do.”

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

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

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

~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It suddenly struck her. 

They were marigolds. 

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

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

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

I am deeply, truly sorry.

I didn’t mean a word of what I said

Please forgive me

- Your Aemond

Her breath hitched, her chest feeling tight with sorrow. 

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

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

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

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

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

They were the last things on her mind.

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

Nervous butterflies fluttered within her as she approached him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aemond sighed and bowed his head. 

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

“Like what?”

“Like you were horrified of me.”

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

“But-”

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

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

“You… you’re not-”

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

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

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

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

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

But none of it mattered. 

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

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

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

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

His first laugh since the incident. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But they all had a duty to perform.

~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aemond snickered and led her forward excitedly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s alright.” He assured her. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~

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

[eraenaa]

Worth the Price

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister Reader

Synopsis: Aemond does everything to prove that he is worthy of you— even if it means that he would be a kinslayer twice.

Warnings: Aemond Plots Against Aegon, Oral Sex (f & m receiving), Mature, 18+, Semi-Public Relations, Choking, Edging, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 5,585

A/N: Reposting bc I was uncertain about this dynamic, but fuck it, I have a soft spot for a Lannister reader and cannot let it rest in my drafts.

Aemond had wanted you since he was young, but as a second son, he would always come second best to his brother. You were a daughter of house Lannister, betrothed to Aegon the moment you were born, an alliance not to keep their Valyrain blood pure but rather to be mixed with gold. You had grown in the walls of the keep, taken from your mother’s arms a few moons after your birth, and grew up under the supervision of your uncle, Tyland Lannister, as a measure to keep you acquainted with your betrothed, Aegon. 

However, such arrangements instilled since your infancy were changed when Queen Alicent was offered a bastard for her only daughter. The queen was quick to cut the engagement made in your infancy and instead betrothed her firstborn son to her firstborn daughter, offering Aemond as your consolation prize. Aemond, who was ten at the time, was thrilled to hear of such arrangements, finally gaining one of the things his heart yearned for the most: you. However, he could see the quiet and greatly covered disappointment not only in your house but in you as well— you were set to be queen, now you were now only to be the lady-wife of a mere second-born son. 

Aemond never truly heard such qualms leave your lips. He was fortunate enough that you had always been keen and kind to him in childhood, and your affection for him only grew in time. But he could not help but be affected by your quiet and greatly oppressed disappointment. For the first ten years of your life, you were prepared and molded to be a queen, hours of unending lessons on how to play the part wasted as you were to be bound to a mere second son. Aemond could not stand for it. He ambitioned to be so much more. He could not stand to be just the second. Second son, second in line, second in your heart. 

“My love, are you listening?” You asked as your husband’s gaze was afar, and you had noticed his attention was not on you. You furrowed your brows as he made no reply, tugging at his arm to bring him out of his trance. “I— I apologize, my heart, I was thinking of another matter,” You pursed your lips and hummed, “And praytell, what matter may that be? Certainly, it is of much importance that you have started ignoring me,” Aemond bit his lip to hinder his amused smirk; he just absolutely adored how you were never afraid to voice out and demand his undivided attention— in others, he would find that absolutely insufferable, but of course, that sentiment was not the same for his dear lady-wife. 

Aemond sighed and could not help but kiss you, unbothered that you two were in the halls and anyone could walk in and see such passion exuding from his usually stoic and rigged demeanor. As your lips parted and Aemond’s body was alight by the feel of your lips and the taste of you, you simply raised your brow, silently urging him to tell the matters that plagued his mind. Aemond tucked a strand of your golden hair and sighed once more, “Nothing— just mere matters of the realm that the king is too incompetent to comprehend and tend to,” You nodded, “Then he is lucky to have you— his brother forever capable and loyal to him and the kingdom,” Aemond bit his tongue. “You must steer him in the right direction, my love. We are already at war; we cannot have the kingdom in shambles because of Aegon’s squandering self. You have always been the diligent one, unending hours poured into learning the histories of your house and training with your sword… your great knowledge must be exercised greatly in this hour of war.” Aemond could only nod his agreement. You smiled and cupped his cheek, tracing his scar, and you hummed as Aemond pressed his cheek further into your soft palm. 

“Now go; I believe that it is the hour of the small council. Best be there and see to it that your brother does not humiliate your family’s claim to the throne further,” You say, reluctantly urging him to let go of his hold on you, even though you were always quick to miss his touch. Aemond shook his head, “Do not be so stubborn,” you said, and you smiled further when Aemond wrapped both of his arms around your waist. You rose to the tip of your toes and pecked your husband’s lips as encouragement. Even though you had shared his kisses countless of times, you still felt the quiet tingle on your plush lips as you two did such actions. “Very well then, I shall do whatever my lady-wife should ask of me,” He said against your lips, making your smile widen. You parted and tried to walk off, but Aemond took hold of your wrist and pulled you back to him, a laugh escaping from your lips, and you rested your hands atop his chest. “And where are you off to?” 

You smirked, “To some engagements for the court that I offered Helaena reprieve from. And after, you shall find me in our chambers… warming our bed… waiting impatiently for you.” You whispered the final part, watching as Aemond’s lilac eye darkened with want, pupils dilated that it made your core turn— finding it utterly flattering how quickly your husband will always grow in want of you. “Now go; the quicker you are to attend the meeting, the quicker they are to end, and you can be my arms.” You said and gave a final kiss on your husband’s cheek before hastily walking off, afraid that Aemond’s wants would get the better of him and take you against the alcove in the hall; it had occurred once or twice before. 

Aemond stomped off the room of the small council after a rather aggravating session with his brother. Seeing Aegon be so clueless with the matters of the realm and the war was pathetic. And in a way, Aemond found great satisfaction in that— seeing Aegon struggle to comprehend his words as he spoke in the ancient tongue, his brother unable to articulate even just one sentence without stammering like a simpleton was quite amusing but overly embarrassing. As the meeting ended, Aemond was quick to rise to his feet and leave, overly impatient to be with you— savoring every second in your arms before he had to leave quietly in the night to make good of his secret plottings with Ser Criston. 

Aemond walked the halls that led to his chambers, each step fervent and quick. The fading sun illuminated his chambers when he entered, setting it aglow in an amber hue. “I’ve been waiting,” Aemond heard you breathlessly call, his head quickly turning to your bed; he squinted his eye as he could not see you through the canopy covers. Aemond wasted no time to march in your direction; his breath caught in his throat as he saw your figure covered by nothing but a thin sheet that was comparable to what the whores in the street of silk wore. You lounged laxly in the middle of the bed, your body in full display for your husband, who stared at you dumbfounded and filled with desire. 

“Seven hells,” Aemond could not help but mutter in pure amazement. His knees felt weak, and his stomach coiled painfully in burning want of you. “Do you not like it?” You frowned as he only stood there, you feigned innocence— of course, you knew he would like it. You knew your husband better than he knew himself. Having grown up with him, you knew every possible thing there is to know about Aemond. Aegon may have been your betrothed at the start, but you were not at all keen to know him to such a deeper level than you had his brother. 

You went to the edge of the bed to meet your husband, who stood by the foot of it, kneeling before him as he hungrily raked his gaze through your body, yet he still did not dare to move. “Has my display rendered you simple, my prince?” You asked lowly, peeking up at him through your lashes and watching as the ball on his throat bobbed and hearing how his breathing turned ragged. You hummed and raised your hand to caress his cheek, rising higher to be met with his face, slyly pushing your breast against his clothed chest. Aemond groaned at just the simple feeling of that. You ghosted your lips against his jaw and neck, your fingers effortlessly undoing the buckles of his leather doublet. 

Your hand slowly trailed south after you had successfully removed his upper clothing; you heard the catch in Aemond’s breath as your fingers trailed his toned chest and torso. Every single inch of him was carved by the gods and embodied a warrior. Aemond hissed as he felt you cup his needing length through his trousers, watching as a sly smirk rose to your lips. “I see that you are quite… tense, my love,” You whispered against his lips, catching as his eye fluttered to a close as you added pressure into his length. “I am.” He gritted, and your smirk widened. “Hm… tell me then what do you need— what do you want, my prince?” You taunted and felt him shudder as you slipped your hand into his trousers, finally letting him feel skin against skin.

“I want… I need you, little wife. I desperately need you,” He muttered as his eye opened. Aemond moved to kiss your lips, but you instead lowered yourself to be met with his length, yanking down his trousers and letting your lips wrap around the tip of his needing and weeping cock. Aemond’s hands lost themselves in your hair, fisting the gold strands in utter pleasure, hissing as you sucked his length, urging yourself to take his cock deeper into your throat. Lewd sounds of your and Aemond’s heavy breathing, along with you gagging on his cock echoed through the chambers. Quiet praises leave your husband’s lips as you pleasure him with your mouth. You reached out to fondle his stones, earning a loud groan from him, and his head tilted to the heavens. Aemond could only stand there and marvel at you, his eye torn as to what to stare upon, your pretty face or your ample behind that hung in the air and squirmed with each of your pleasurable movements. He began to wonder what he had done to have you as his lady wife and pondered the ways he could prove himself worthy of you. 

Aemond felt himself ready to come undone, and he forcefully slipped out his cock from your lips, earning a whine from you. “Had I done something wrong?” You panted as you wiped away the traces of drool on your chin, looking up at Aemond with slight hurt in your eyes. Your husband was quick to shake his head and cup your cheeks, “No— you could never do me wrong, my heart,” He reassured, but you felt yourself pout and wonder as to why he had ceased your actions, if you were being honest, you quite enjoyed sucking his cock. 

“Then wh—“ Your words were left unfinished as you felt Aemond cup your dripping heat. Your eyes widened, and the earlier smirk on your lips had now flown to your husband’s. “Already so wet for me… you are a saint, my heart. Tending to my needs first even though you yourself are in desperate want of release.” Aemond hummed as your eyes rolled back; he effortlessly slipped two digits into your dripping core. You mewled out his name, squealing as he curled the digits and as his thumb fervently rubbed your sensitive pearl. “I want your cock,” You said distractedly, any form of decorum or chasteness gone as your want for Aemond had made you utterly desperate. 

Aemond let out an amused breath, “Of course you do,” He taunted and smashed his lips unto yours. You clawed at his toned arm as you felt your release bubbling, but before you could finally feel the climax you sought, Aemond parted your lips and ceased the pleasure of his fingers. You whined, glaring at your husband, who only stared down at you in amusement as he brought his fingers to his lips and licked off your essence. “Patience, my heart. All that you want shall come in due time,” He whispered his oath, and you huffed as he walked away, leaving you to wonder what had gotten into his mind. 

You lay on the bed as your husband went to one corner of your chambers. Your legs were spread, and your cunt was pulsating in need. You could not help yourself as your fingers slipped along the wet folds, holding back your moans as you touched yourself because you could not wait for your husband to give you your release. Aemond stilled as he heard your once still breathing hitch and the distant and quiet sound of your wetness. He turned to the bed and saw as your back was arched, and your fingers disappeared to pleasure your cunt. 

He took large strides only to witness you on the verge of an orgasm that he had denied you of. You groaned as Aemond took hold of your wrist, your second time being denied your release. “You’re being cruel, husband,” You whined as you stared up at your husband, a wicked glint in his eye. “Please, Aemond… I need you,” You breathed out, and all he did was hum. That was then you realized he held something in his other hand. You sat up, skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat. Aemond moved his lips to pepper kisses on the side of your neck, bitting to leave his mark as a reminder as to who you belonged to. 

“Open it,” Aemond murmured against your skin as he placed a velvet box into your hands. You frowned as he continued on to pepper kisses on your neck and down the swell of your breasts, ripping off the thin sheet you had worn. You did as he told and felt a gasp escape your lips as you saw what was inside and as his fingers pinched the bud of your tit. “W—What is this for?” You said mind befuddled as you did not know where to focus, your husband’s gift or his pleasure. “It is for you, of course.” He said plainly, took the ruby tiara into his hands, and moved to place it atop your head. Aemond grew further with need at the sight of you flushed and naked; the only thing you had on was the tiara he had commissioned for you. 

You stared up at your husband in wonder, “I— It’s lovely… thank you, but my love, I am in no position to warrant a tiara— it is rather inappropriate, do you not think?” You asked and tried your best to focus as Aemond fondled your breasts. Aemond placed open kisses onto the side of your breasts, trying to form his words. “Aemond,” You called and Feld his face to look you in the eye. You delicately took off his eye patch as his lips pursed. “What is this for?” You asked once again. 

“Do you wish to be queen?” He instead asked you, and you were rendered speechless. “Do not deny it, my heart… You were born and bred with the purpose of being queen of the seven kingdoms.” He sighed, and you tried to find your words. “Even now, you bear the duties of a Queen that Helaena cannot tend to,” He added, as you were always by his sister’s side, aiding her with her duties until she all together left the role up to you. You let out a heavy breath. “I… Sometimes I do— seeing that was my whole purpose, why I was taken out of my parents’ care and instead raised here to do what was expected of me.” You admitted and felt your heart pit as Aemond avoided your gaze. “But I’d rather have married you than be queen.” You quickly added. 

“I may have wanted the title, Aemond… but I want you more. I am perfectly content with just being your wife,” You reassured, but something in Aemond burned in anger. Anger at the gods as to why he was born the second son— anger at himself as to why he had to seek out Aegon instead of just letting him escape. You sighed as you rested your forehead against Aemond’s, “Do you believe me?” You questioned and waited for his reply. Aemond bit his tongue not completely believing that you were perfectly content with your station because even he was not contented. He knew envy was a lesser emotion that he must not succumb to, but it was inevitable, especially as he bore witness to how his brother squandered off the most coveted station in the kingdom. He gave a nod and connected your lips, deciding to lay the matter to rest for the moment. 

You sighed and steadied yourself as he hoisted you on his lap, moans leaving your lips as you sank down on his cock. Aemond’s breathing labored as he felt your tight cunt around his length and as your nails left traces along his back. “Oh… gods, Aemond—“ You cried as you rocked your hips, the tip of his cock hitting the perfect spot that made your back arch and your eyes rolled back in utter pleasure. Your moans filled his ears, and Aemond could only hum with satisfaction. “You sound like such a whore, little wife,” he muttered as he reached downwards to trace circles on your nubbin. You could only whine louder, too focused as you bounced on his cock and sought out your high. “Such a vision you are… bouncing on my cock and moaning out my name with a tiara on your pretty head.” 

Aemond’s other hand harshly gripped your tit as he was overwhelmed by the feel of you. “So perfect you are,” He praised, and you smirked at him through the haze of pleasure, your cunt clenching further as you had always loved when he would compliment you. “Such a perfect wife— you would have been wasted on my squandering brother.” He gritted and groaned as you clenched around him tightly and as you nodded your head in agreement. “I was meant to be yours, Aemond,” You breathed as you felt your skin alight with your nearing climax. “You’re mine… all mine.” He groaned as you came undone, your loud moans spurring his own release. “All yours,” You swore and watched as his face contorted in pleasure. 

You sighed in contentment as you lay on Aemond’s chest and as he ran his hands through your hair. “I must leave,” He suddenly cut the silence. “I must meet with Cole,” You pursed your lips. “I know.” You said, trying not to let the tone of bitterness and concern be heard. Aemond furrowed his brows as he looked down upon you. You raised your gaze to meet his, “I know you, Aemond. I know you better than I know the back of my hand— did you really think I would not figure out that you had plotted secretly with Ser Criston?” You questioned, and Aemond sighed, his heart warming further for you as you uttered such words. 

You sat upright to gain a better view of your husband, Aemond already feeling cold, as you removed yourself from his chest. “Be cautious, my love— do not be so reliant on Vhagar. Swear that you will return to me unscathed.” You implored, and Aemond leaned forward to capture your lips. When your lips parted, whatever tenderness you had was hidden behind your serious and threatening expression, urging your husband to be cautious and vigilant. “You will not make me a widow at only nine and ten, Aemond.” You said, voice overly serious and gaze scorching, but your husband still had the gall to laugh. “I wouldn’t dare to, my heart.” He said and captured your lips once more to seal his oath that he would return to you unharmed. 

The whispers of vipers were deafening. ‘The king was slain,’ they would say. And murmurs had spread that the fall of the king was not caused by the Queen Who Never Was but rather by the One-Eyed Prince. You had stewed in silence as you could not possibly fathom what had happened. The only thing that had kept you sane was a single letter that came from your husband stating that he was well and would fly back and return to you in a day or two. 

You stood in the gardens alone as you pondered upon the whispers spreading around the keep when you felt strong hands wrap around your frame and lips pressing kisses upon your neck. Your tense frame momentarily turned lax at the touch of your husband. “I have missed you, my heart,” He said softly and tried to capture your lips— for him, a week was far too long not to be in your presence. Suspicion rose in you as you heard elation in his voice— elation that was rarely present in him. You turned and saw satisfaction glinting in Aemond’s eye. “What has happened?” You questioned, a sickening feeling in your stomach as your intuition told you that there was something afoot. 

Aemond frowned at the seriousness on your face. “We had won the battle— we had effectively cut off Dragonstone by land, my plan proven effective.” He said, dipping down to try and capture your lips, but you backed away, your movements sending a tinge to Aemond’s heart. “What has happened to Aegon?” You whispered and saw how quickly the satisfaction in your husband’s eye disappeared. “The king was inexperienced in battle— he fought against the qualms of his council, and now he reaps the consequences.” You shook your head as you studied each expression of your husband. “Who had caused his injuries? They are whispering that it was not made by Rhaenys but rather by his own brother… tell me the truth of it, Aemond.” 

Your husband sighed, stirring you to the side, away from prying eyes and ears. “It was an unfortunate incident… but it was a necessary one. The end justifies the means, my heart. You must know this.” He whispered, hoping to see understanding in your eyes, but he could only see horror. Your mind spun at the words your husband said; you felt bile rising to your throat because, within a blink of an eye, you scarcely recognized the man before you— the man you had spent your whole life with, unrecognisable. Aemond felt his heart sink as you shook your head and removed his hold on you, hastily running away from him.  

He knew what he had done was cruel— treasonous, but it was for the greater good. He could not watch idly as his brother commanded the throne even though he was unfit to rule. He could not stand to watch as Aegon squandered away his birthright and made their cause’s claim weak. It was a last resort that he had to succumb to— a last resort to save their faction and to prove himself worthy of you. Your words haunted him; the way you admitted that a part of you wished to be queen and the image of you wearing a tiara of rubies burned into his mind. He had to make it a reality. He needed to be king and have you by his side as his queen.  

You avoided your husband the following days, unable to comprehend what he had somehow become. You had always known he had great ambitions—you would lie if you said that you had not encouraged his, for you as well had your own—but you never meant for it to come to this. You never thought of the possibility that Aemond would kill for the throne. For revenge, yes, but certainly not for his own brother’s station. 

It was the day of Ser Criston’s return when you finally revealed yourself to Aemond. Standing by his side along with his mother as you three peered down on the few soldiers returning from battle, along with a cart that housed the fallen king who was clinging to life. You stared head-on as you felt the questioning and almost spiteful stare of the Queen Mother towards your husband. Not an ounce of remorse was shown by Aemond as he proudly wore the Valyrian steel dagger. 

The queen walked off, ready to meet her firstborn son, and you moved to follow, but your husband took hold of your upper arm and forced you to look upon him. “How long will you ignore me, little wife?” He hummed, growing impatient with each day of your ignorance of him. You stayed quiet, unable to meet his gaze. It was torture for you as well— you had missed your husband greatly, but the guilt you felt by his actions, which you knew were partly because of you, was greater. You long tried to hide your disappointment as you were not made queen; you thought it cruel that they had taken you away from the arms of your mother moments after your birth just to be raised in the keep and groomed to be the perfect and dotting wife of a king and take it all away with just one notion. 

All those years of effort and sacrifices were wasted. But you did not dwell on it further as they presented Aemond to be your husband instead. You knew he believed you and your family see him as a consolation prize— and for your house, he was, but for you, you would gladly trade away all the gold in your house’s coffers and the crown for Aemond. You had loved him ever since you two were children; you were intended for Aegon, but your heart had always longed for his younger brother. It was a shame that he could not see it until now. 

It was flattering that he tried to prove himself to you— that he says he does not deserve you, but you could never agree to such sentiments because you knew in yourself that you were meant to be his. It pains you that whatever you say, whatever you do to reassure him that you are happy and content in his arms, even without the prestige of titles, he still does not believe you. 

Aemond felt his heart twist further as you shook your head and walked off. He followed you quietly as you two ventured to the chambers of the king to bear witness to the price of ambition. You could not will yourself to walk in; the distant sight of Aegon filled with burns, clinging to life, along with his death rattle breathing, was enough for you to flee away. Aemond watched as you stumbled through the halls, unable to bear the sight of what he had done. It was only then did Aemond felt guilt. Not guilt for what he had done to his brother but guilt as he saw your reaction— it was only then did he realized that the weight of his actions would affect his lady-wife as well. 

It was sundown when your uncle sought you out. Telling you what had transpired in the small council and how Aemond was named Prince Regent. He as well questioned you as to what you knew about the battle in Rook’s Rest and if your husband had confided in you any secrets, as all who had returned from the battlefield kept a tight lip. You said not a word. Your loyalty to your husband has proven to be greater than your guilt for Aegon’s state. 

“Greatly unfortunate as the events were… I must say that the council and I are relieved that your husband shall see to the concerns of the Realm.” Your uncle muttered, and you sat stiffly in your seat. “Really?” You asked in a small voice. “King Aegon might be the firstborn, but all are aware that Aemond has the tact to rule. Let us pray that he would lead our side to victory— his brother certainly cannot.” He sighed as he stood, kissing your cheek as he exited your private chambers, leaving you to ponder on his words. 

A storm came at night, and you could not find rest as your husband was not by your side. The rain and thunder always made you uneasy, and at times like these, you greatly relied on Aemond for comfort. You walked the path to your marital chambers and peeked inside, only to see your husband was absent. You walked along the cold halls of the keep, searching for Aemond in his usual spots, but to no avail. Your feet carried you to the great hall, and there you found him, staring upon the iron throne. You bit your lip as you studied him, staring at the prize of his efforts. 

Aemond felt a presence join him, and he turned his gaze and was met with you. “Was it worth the price?” You questioned, a steely look on his face as he thought over your words. You stood still as your husband took slow strides towards you. “If it proves me worthy of you, then it does.” You let out a breath as he said the words. “Aemond… how many times must I repeat myself— you do not need to prove yourself to me. I— I love you unconditionally. I do not need the throne or a crown… can you still not see that all I want is you?” 

Aemond cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his touch. “What’s done is done. We need not dwell on this matter, my heart. What is important is that we got what we wanted— we finally have what we deserve.” He whispered, lips flying towards yours. You felt weak as your lips entangled with your husband’s. “This… this is not right.” You whispered as his kisses trailed down to your neck and to the valley of your breasts, his fingers slipping off the shift you wore, leaving you standing bare in the middle of the throne room. “What is not right is that our efforts and potential are wasted as those who are unfit for the title, rule. We were made for the throne, my heart… stop resisting it; you know it is the truth.” 

You breathed heavily as you watched your husband fall to his knees, and his lips kissed your cunny. “Admit what you want, my heart.” His voice muffled against your skin, your hands moving to grip his hair and steady yourself as his tongue drew circles upon your cunt. You feel him grip your thighs, urging you to speak. “You… I want you.” You cried, desperately writhing your cunt against his face. “And?” He questioned, and you tilted your head back, your climax quick to come as your body ached for your husband’s touch. “To be queen… I want you and be queen,” You admitted with a gasp as you felt his tongue enter your dripping core. Aemond smirked against your cunt; his body fueled with need as he tasted your essence. When you came undone, he greedily licked and lapped any remnants of your release, not at all conscious that you two may be caught in such compromising situations. 

You watched through the haze of your release as your husband stood and undid his trousers. Your gaze followed him as he stood behind you and slipped in his length; your loud, surprised moan echoed through the empty hall and was accompanied by the clap of thunder. You cried as Aemond mercilessly pounded into your cunt, your dazed gazes planted on the throne. You gasped for air as Aemond wrapped his calloused hand around your throat and urged you to rest your weight on his leather-covered chest; all the while, his thrusts were relentless. “Are you to come? Are you to come before the throne, my wife?” He taunted in your ear, biting the lobe, and you could only cry in pleasure, your body arching and your hips meeting each of his thrusts. “Yes… yes!” You cried as his other hand returned to its usual torment and drew circles upon your cunt. 

You threw your head back upon Aemond’s shoulders as you were met with your second release. With a few more thrusts, you feel him come undone, his seed filling your cunt, and he could only hope that it would finally take, for he surely needed heirs. Aemond turned your head to face his and kissed your lips, finally feeling a speck of calm in his raging being, for he knew he had secured the station that you both deserved. 

As you two tried to relish in the calm brought by your climaxes, outside the great hall, the castle was in an uproar as the king drew in his last breath. Men searching for the prince regent to inform him of the dire news. They scoured every corner of the castle and soon found their new king seated on the iron throne with his queen bouncing on his cock, Aemond fucking her in their rightful place.

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry [4] | Aemond Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: MDNI 18+!! canon divergence!!! I fucked the timeline and nigly bits bc this was an impulse fic ok soooo it was mostly unplanned, almost smut, angst, let the grovelling happen babyyy, unedited, mention of alys x aemond but not in a good way :((, infidelity, talk of sex, guilt, mentions of Aegon x reader, hmmm I ramble, little vulnerable Aemond, bad language, let me know if I've missed anything!

Author's note: y'all I was never done with that man like there's no easy out for him :llll. Anyways I wrote most of this instead of studying which I needed to do. Perhaps I'll have my hand at another idea I'm cooking before part 5 but I'm alsoooo unsure about how keen we are to keep this one going - like is it getting too much??? either way, I enjoy writing this. and idk how to shut up, clearly, because I love that internal mind talk shit. Drop your thoughts in my inbox or PM me because I love to yap!!! xoxo, kisses!!! <3

Masterlist

-

He was a fool. A spoiled, arrogant and entitled fool. You often thought about whether Aemond actually recognised the effect of his actions on anyone else. It was always ‘I did it for us’ or ‘I did it because I had to do it’.

So after your confrontation the day before, it had surprised you that Aemond had truly believed he was forgiven. Maybe it shouldn’t have. You had, after all, sat beside him and laughed with him. Shared a moment as if things were better. But it was nothing more than a lighthearted acknowledgement that whatever game was being played was entirely ridiculous yet you could feel how something had changed. There was a newfound intensity between the two of you and Aemond had clearly understood that he had made a mistake

But that wouldn't be enough for forgiveness. Things would never really be the same. You will never forget. The nameless woman had made a home in your unconscious mind and everything would remind you of the woman your husband had chosen to take to bed over you. She was beautiful, she was experienced and free of burden. Based on that alone a part of you could see why she could have been a better choice–a part of you that ached and pained ceaselessly. 

And you weren’t sure you could carry on as if Aemond hadn’t thrown your entire world into the pits of ruin. Because that is exactly what he may as well have done. All you had was your marriage to him–a fact that was as painful as it was true. If it all fell apart because of him only you would suffer from it. 

Your name, your family’s name. A Lady born to a house of remarkably lowly nobility with little more than your marriage to the prince. A charity case marriage to tell the realm’s people that the Crown was not so prejudiced as to be above uniting with the likes of your house. That the Lannisters and Baratheons were important but they were not everything. A fabrication only made necessary to cover up the fact that it was a lie–the Targaryens (and even the Hightowers as you had come to realise) really did believe they were of better blood. 

A failure to fulfil your duty to the Targaryen crown as Prince Aemond’s wife would destroy your family name. And you would have no prospect of happiness after it. What else did you have aside from this?

Aemond would never understand that. Because not only was he a man but he was a prince. A privilege, a safety and a security he had inherited through birth. 

Aside from the pressures of society, he had hurt you. Badly. 

Despite your own confliction about it, you did have love for Aemond–how could you not? Love came from many things and while yours may have come from your dependance on his word, on the duty he performed to be your protector as he was to the Crown and its subjects, on his polite affections as limited as they were, it still found its way into your heart. Perhaps it was foolish to allow it entry into your existence when you had already known that there was no love to come from Aemond. 

It didn’t change anything. Betrayed your trust, taken you for granted and destroyed the sanctity of a husband’s loyalty as if he were as dishonourable as any other Lord. 

You would never say it out loud but it had broken your heart. And heartache is a consuming, suffocating and painful thing to feel. A constant lump in your throat, something always weighing your chest down, a disastrous, aching discomfort in your belly. Tears had stained your pillow at night and dried by the morning, the fabric of the linen acquiring the same unphased facade that you would wear as you plastered on a mask of ignorance so that you could continue to live through your day. 

All because you had wanted him. Aemond, who was doomed to disappoint and destroy merely because that is all that princes do. 

For him to have mistaken your truce–the end to the back and forth game that had been wreaking havoc in its wake-as forgiveness was infuriating. He had no idea. 

Well, maybe he did. Now that he had seen you with another just as you had seen him. And you recognised your own experience in the moment he had realised what was happening. 

Aemond’s call to breakfast made you want to laugh. But you had turned him down for afternoon tea just the day before only to be found swallowing his brother’s seed. You winced at the shamefulness of your thought, muttering a quick prayer for the sake of your piety whether it was genuine or not. 

He was seated lazily in the chair he favoured, an array of food spread across the table. There was a book in his hand. The same one he had taken from you the last time you had shared your morning meal together. Aemond had a smirk playing on his lips. 

You cleared your throat, curtsying before sitting down at the other end of the table to him and with as much distance between you as you could muster. “Good morrow, my Prince,”

“Formalities, I see,” He looked at you through his lashes. It was odd seeing him so relaxed, the tension that was always in his shoulders had been lost and there was a playful glint to his eye. You wanted to smack it out. “I believed we were past titles and distance for the sake of propriety, my sweet. As well as rigid greetings.”

All you responded with was a stare. 

Dropping the book to his side, Aemond sighed and leaned forward, pouring tea into a cup. He stood, taking a couple steps forward to hand it to you. “We have fixed-”

“We have fixed nothing.”

“I am trying to turn a new leaf,” he commanded. You took the cup and saucer from his hand, the warm waft of vanilla and rose giving you a slight reprieve from the threat that rolled off his tongue. “If you do not recall, dear wife, I as well have every reason to resent you. The image of you sucking on my useless brother’s cock is not one I can easily bare. Yet I have chosen to let it be. I could have easily decided otherwise.”

“That would make you a hypocrite.” You glanced at him over the rim of your teacup. 

“It does not matter much if I am a hypocrite, does it?” Aemond sat, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He wasn’t bothered with the food in front of him, focused solely on you. “I hardly see how that would change anything.”

You squirmed under the intensity of his stare, picking up a cherry from the bowl of fruits and rolling the stem between your fingers. “It matters to me. Certainly, it matters for your reputation among the smallfolk. Nobody cares for a selfish prince, my dear.”

Aemond hummed, smirking at the venom you spat at him. You noticed the coin that he rolled between his fingers, nimble and thoughtless as if it were like breathing. Not so much a nervous habit but a thoughtful one. 

He couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t enjoy your confidence. It was refreshing. But there was a dip in his gut at the thought that there was no hope for the two of you. Aemond, ever logical, knew he had no one else to blame but himself with his lack of foresight and failure to see beyond the now and here. 

Because Aemond had not even considered how things would go on should you not forgive him. He had assumed that you would if not merely on the basis that there was little lost from a relationship that hardly existed in the first place. You had love for him and he was so convinced that such a thing would be impossible that he didn’t consider that it would cause you heartache beyond slighted offence and jealousy. 

A violet eye lingered on the cherry that remained between your fingers. Aemond was good at putting on an act. He thought for a moment that he would rather take lashes to his back than have you know that he had no idea how to love someone properly. A part of him was persuaded that he was incapable of being a good lover. The lashes seemed like a blissful gift compared to the self-loathing that simmered in his belly at the probability that he had ruined any chance your marriage had of recovery.  

It crossed his mind that it was his ignorance towards you right from the beginning that had damned your relationship. 

Either way, it did not help that you had turned to his brother for intimacy. Aemond felt his blood scorch whenever that invaded his mind. He wanted to crumble the walls of this fortress when he wondered if Aegon had enjoyed your womanhood. Jealousy did motivate him well, he realised, and Aemond had the murderous urge to feed Aegon to Vhagar. 

Nonetheless, he feigned amusement. “It seems as if you care for one.”

You ate the cherry. It was sweet and rich. All you replied with was an upturn of your chin as you gracefully held a small embroidered towel to your lips.

“So I am not forgiven?” Aemond had to break the silence before it cut him open. “Are we not even?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you held back a surprised laugh. “You never apologised. Not that it would make any difference.”

“That does not answer my question.”

“Of course you are not forgiven,” you sighed. The tea cup hit the table with a clang. Your disdain for his actions and his ignorance gave you an unfettered confidence around him which you weren’t accustomed to. It made it very difficult to control yourself. “And no, we are not even, my Prince. And since you have brought it to my attention, I am of half a mind to find Aegon and offer him a meal between my thighs. You see, I have often wondered how it would feel and I expect that our King would be happy to indulge my… curiosities.”

Aemond sneered, a silent one that was more visible in his intake of a breath, the curl of his lips and the hardening of his eye. Bullseye. 

It took him less than a couple seconds to be on his knees in front of where you sat, a strong hand tightly gripping each side of your thighs over the thick fabrics of your dress. He had shoved the table aside, unphased as tea spilled and fruits and cheeses toppled to the floor. Something in the look of bewilderment on your face had Aemond ready to both grin at your clueless innocence and frown at your shock.

Aemond didn’t let himself dwell on the fact that you had given up on expecting such pleasures from him. He was your husband; nothing about what he was clearly intending on doing to you should surprise you. Cursing himself to perdition would not be enough for how he has failed you. 

“I feel obliged to remind you that we had agreed,” he grazed his nose across your knees, looking up at you through his eyelashes, jaw clenched tight as he all but growled his words. “That there will be no more of this foolishness. Not from you and not from me.”

It was an onslaught of different things that had rendered you still and silent. The way Aemond looked at you like you were the only satiating force for his eternal hunger, the wordless mixture of desire and anger in how his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, the desperation in his voice, strained by the fear that you would. Or was it the overwhelming feeling that Aemond was finally taking some accountability and that maybe he recognised not what his actions were but the meaning that they carried?

For a moment Aemond just looked at you, conflicted and fragmented and unguarded. The sight of him like this reminded you of a vulnerable child. But it didn’t last long before the menacing, cautionary glint was back in his eye, his posture becoming rigid as shuffled the fabrics of your skirts. 

A new kind of anxiety overcame you. Not like the insignificant nervousness you had felt that night when you had wandered into his chambers or used his leg to make yourself peak and not like the clueless apprehension with Aegon. It formed a ball in your chest and made it hard to breathe. 

There was no chance he would ever admit it but you could see Aemond’s vulnerability and desperation within the hardened facade he had perfected. He wanted nothing more than to seem strong and powerful at all times, worthy of acclaim and reverence. But here he was, willing to stay on his knees and worship you forever, all under the pretence of rageful infatuation. 

It was too hot. Even with the cool of the shadows cast by the dark net curtains that only let in enough daylight to see clearly and not enough to cause Aemond irritation from sensitivity in his eye, it was so warm you worried you would have to rip the sleeves off of your dress.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Aemond let out a soft, dark groan, running his fingers across the expanse of your legs over your stockings, your skirts already bunched at your hips. Skin burning at his touch, you couldn’t help the way you whined and squeezed your thighs together, squirming under the intensity of his gaze. 

His voice was heavy with the burden of lust and regret. “I will be better. In all the ways that I have failed you and more. Your forgiveness, I realise, is not as easily granted as I presumed but I will show you that I am worthy of it.” 

There was a moment of weakness in your mind before you caught yourself. You didn’t quite believe him. It had clearly been too easy for him to give you empty promises and there was no reason why things would be different now. 

It was odd. Seeing Aemond weak like this. 

What would it mean if you let him continue? It was clearly different this time. You couldn’t put it into words exactly but there was a rawness, a blitz of different emotions that set things ablaze and made you want to both weep and mewl for him. 

You couldn’t spare a thought about why it was different. Aemond was right there, a weaponised Prince on his knees for you, a lowly Lady with nothing more to offer him than yourself. Since when did you hold all this power over him? 

That night in his bedchambers and last night when you had shared a laugh despite everything that had unfolded felt detached in a way. When you had allowed yourself release over his leg it was simply that. A way to ease the tension he had put in your body and a way to leave him wanting.

Aemond’s eye swam with a tenderness you had not seen from him. He continued to look up at you waiting to gauge your response. It was a slight nod of your head which had his hands tearing at the soft fabric of your stockings, his lips instantly meeting the skin of your knees before you had the chance to even gasp. All the while, he kept his eye on you as if his heart would cease to beat if he could not watch the way you reacted to him. 

It became increasingly harder to breathe. There were so many thoughts, so many sensations that you struggled to put it all together. Your flushed with anticipation, your cunt throbbed at the wet plushness of his lips on your hot skin and your hips squirmed at what was to come. 

Your mind, however, flashed with the image of Aemond, exactly as he was now, between another woman’s thighs. A woman who didn’t flinch at the unfamiliar touch, who didn’t jerk away at the foreign feeling of being pleasured. You wondered if he would be so angered at the prospect of another man’s mouth on her womanhood, if her skin felt softer or more rough on his lips and if he looked at her with the same heated need.

It made you feel sick. 

Aemond let himself enjoy the way your thighs tensed, pulling your smallclothes off of you as much as carefully as he could under the restriction of your skirts. There was an urge to rip the entire dress off but he knew it would be a step too far. He couldn’t help the low sounds that left him, sounds he couldn’t recognise. The expanse of your thighs and the sight of your flushed, hot cunt in front of him made his mouth water with a hunger that would have shocked him had he not been so distracted by your scent. 

Without complete vision, Aemond had learned to train his sense of touch, taste, smell and hearing to make up for the disadvantage he was stuck with. They were always slightly heightened compared to those who never needed the compensation of senses but in the cloud of desire and lust, he was sensitive. 

You whined at the way his tongue glided over your skin, biting down hard but not hard enough to be painful on the flesh of your upper thigh so close to where you needed to feel him. But Aemond was always remarkably patient and he merely made way to your other leg, repeating his ministrations and licking you from your knee to where he bit you at your thigh. 

The haze that had possessed you made you lose track of your thoughts so easily. Still, they fought their way to the forefront of your mind at every chance they could and you were reminded of her. 

Aemond’s mind was overwhelmed by you. There was no power in the realm that could make him think of anything else, not with the way you were trembling under his feathered touch and making such beautiful sounds for him, and not when he desired for anyone else apart from you. 

A heavy breath of shame and excitement tumbled out of you at how lewdly he dragged the tip of his nose across your thigh, pressing it into the flesh that sat above your slick, aching cunt and inhaling. You clenched around nothing, your clit twitching at the sound of Aemond’s unabashed groan. 

He grasped at your hips and your legs, his fingers burying into your flesh and tugging as if there would never be enough of you in his hands. It would have driven you into a similarly desperate state had things been different. 

The prince between your thighs was a sight to behold. Aemond’s skin was flushed pink, his eyepatch slightly out of place and his hair tousled from the way your legs clenched and unclenched against his head. He was almost drooling, mumbling about how good you smelled and how perfect and pretty your cunt was for him. His cock had never been so hard, constricted by the stiff leather of his training attires. 

Aemond enjoyed being a tease but there was only so much he could handle himself. While he wanted you to crave for him the way he was craving you so unbearably, Aemond needed to taste you. He needed to make you feel the blinding pleasure he should have been giving you at every chance he had since the night you were married. He needed to show you the ways of unbridled human desire and to show you all the ways your body could come undone and fall apart only to feel completely whole and fulfilled. 

There was no changing the past but Aemond would make up for how completely inattentive he had been. He would show you all the more fervently. When Aemond placed an open mouthed kiss just above your slit, letting a string of his spit glide off of his tongue onto your sensitive pussy, you shuddered.

All at once your mind was once again taken over by unsavoury thoughts. It had your eyes welling with tears, a familiar lump lodging in your throat, threatening to come out in a devastated sob. There was a ringing in your ears and you were back at Aemond’s door, peeking in only to see him giving that woman the same touch he was giving you right now. He had seemed so enthralled by her and the way she must have tasted. It was as if he’d been there before, indulging in her with so much passion it rivalled how eagerly touched you in this moment. 

Did her smell fill his veins with fire as yours was? Did her scent alone make his cock as painfully hard as yours did? Did her cunt drip for him the way yours did? Was the hunger in his eye shining for her too?

It was terrifying to consider. 

Aemond would spend hours here, he had decided. His duties for the day could be damned to the hells for all he cared. There was a rumbling in his chest for what he saw in front of him, inviting him to indulge and filling his mind with senseless ardour. Aemond let himself enjoy just the scent of you, his eye fluttering shut and his nose gently resting above your folds as he breathed you in, caressing your thighs softly with his hands. As if he were starved for years, Aemond salivated and with no patience left within him, he brought his lips downwards to meet the precious cunt he had been dreaming of. 

With a whimper that you couldn’t hold back, you jerked away from him. Aemond pulled away in surprise, his gaze full of confusion and lust and insecurity. “Wait, my love—“

You had slipped free of his grasp, a strangled cry escaping no matter how hard you tried to keep it in. There was one tear that slipped free, followed by countless more and you couldn’t look at him anymore, couldn’t bear to see that he was hurt before scrambling away from him. 

She was stuck in your mind. The memory of Aemond’s little trysts with her replaying behind your eyes no matter how hard you tried to shut it out. It was clear that there was nothing you could do to get ahold of yourself because everytime you looked at him, so enthralled in you and your sex, she was there. 

Laughing at you in the back of your mind, as if she had taken residence in a permanent place in your head, enjoying the state of despair and madness she and Aemond had led you to. 

But she couldn’t be in your head. Not really. Not in the way it felt she was. 

You barely glanced back at Aemond through your tears, struggling to even your breathing and calm the rapid beating of your heart. He hadn’t moved much; just simply stayed there frowning at the space that you had once occupied on the chair. 

There was nothing he could do to change things. Aemond knew that as well as you did. But there was a pain in your heart at the way he looked so defeated, so guilty that it almost seemed like he would melt into a puddle of remorse. A far stretch from the usual stoic warrior that you had known him as.

“My prince, I–” you swallowed, your voice catching when he looked up at you with a wide eye and furrowed eyebrows. For a moment you remembered that he had no right - but he was trying, was he not? “I cannot continue with this knowing that you had touched her like this. It angers me and it upsets me and it pains me to think of it but ‘tis beyond my control.”

He stayed silent, observing the way you hid yourself from him and struggled to meet his gaze. There was a sullen look to you, one you had not entered with and it stuck needles in his flesh to think that he had been the cause of it. Aemond’s entire body felt hot and he was itching to tear off his leathers. He wished the gods would strike him down as he was for hurting you so.

You had turned away, disappearing from his quarters swiftly. You would never forget the image of how you had left him there–it was both satisfying and devastating. 

Aemond, still on his knees for the ghost of you, his expression tortured and his shoulders tensed. It was a pathetic sight, should anyone stumble upon it, but you considered it beautiful. Beautiful in a lethal, catastrophic manner. Not unlike himself; a weaponised source of destruction who had a tendency to bring torment upon those he loved. 

The rest of your day had been spent alone in your chambers. You hadn’t cried so much over any of it until now. The tears and sobs that you had held inside of yourself for weeks had forced themselves out, along with the emotions you had pushed down until you could no longer. 

Aemond had a certain control while you were sitting in that seat, skirts bunched to your stomach and quivering for him to have his way. Regardless, the power was still yours and you knew that it was Aemond who was wrapped tightly around your finger at that moment. He would have listened to anything you had said–done anything you had told him to do. 

Perhaps you had become too stubborn in your anger to have let yourself feel anything else. A retributive anger; one that sprouted from the lack of love that existed in your marriage and reached a climax at Aemond’s brazen adultery. And it only grew stronger in whatever back and forth Aemond had encouraged by dangling his whore in front of your face. 

Whatever it was, you were feeling so much more now than you had before. 

Or perhaps it was because you could see that Aemond was remorseful. He would never yet admit it but you knew from the way he had behaved since you had visited him in his bed. It was no act of redemption and definitely no apology but it was impossible to ignore the change in him. You had never seen Aemond the way you had seen him this morning. 

Vulnerable, gentle, tormented. 

A knock on your door had you sniffling and wiping away any tear stains that may have lingered on your cheeks. You had stopped crying for some time but the need to wallow and lament had stayed. When you called out to ask, the guard at your door notified you of the Dowager Queen’s presence. 

Oh, seven hells. 

There was really no chance you could refuse her so you merely let her in and called a servant to bring some refreshments. Queen Alicent sat herself down but remained tense, carefully watching you as you took a place beside her. 

“Have you been crying?” Her concern was comforting. “I believe I know why.”

You straightened, not meeting the eye of the woman who reached a tender hand to your knee. Hiding behind a forced smile, you let out a breathy laugh. “I am certain the entirety of the Red Keep knows, Your Grace.”

“It has been known for some time,” Alicent was gentle, her cautionary gaze telling you that she was apprehensive about bringing her son’s misadventures up. You held your breath. “Since the first time he had summoned that Alys woman-”

“Alys? Is that her name?”

“You do not know?” There was a tense silence. Alicent couldn’t meet your gaze, pity swimming across her features. Aemond was her son and there were many things that she had let her sons get away with but her heart pained at the broken quiver in your voice. 

Alicent had noticed the change in Aemond since the night that you had found him with Alys. The second time. He had never paid much attention to you aside from what appearances required yet Alicent knew her son far more than he would be willing to accept. She had known that there was something in his heart for you, no matter how small and no matter how it dwindled until set alight. 

Aemond had done the wrong thing. She had no doubts about that. Alicent would have words with him once she figured out what to say to him. But he was her son and there were certain misdoings that she knew she had to defend them through. To protect his marriage, his image and his happiness. The Queen Dowager cleared her throat and reached for your hand, eyebrows furrowing at the way you stared down at your lap, the anguish you felt in your heart written clearly across your face. 

“I understand that you are hurting, my dear. Although my husband remained faithful to me until his death and I cannot quite imagine the pain in your heart–I see how you have love for my son, even if you nor him have known it, I do understand,” Alicent took a breath, closing her eyes. “This is the way of men. And princes–”

“Please, Your Grace, I mean this with utmost respect for you but I do not wish to hear your excuses,” you whispered. There was a prickly, breathless worry that had settled in your gut. What did you not know? Was this Alys someone who mattered? “But I would like to know what you are withholding from me about this woman. I believe I deserve that at the very least.”

Alicent stared at you for a moment, examining you. She could drive her son further into the ground with what she was about to say. “Aemond had a paramour–at least it was rumoured, he never spoke of such things with me. Alys Rivers, a wetnurse and servant woman from Harrenhal.”

“A paramour?”

“It was before you were married,” Alicent was quick to clarify. “I had assumed that Aemond wanted nothing more to do with her when she left–at his order, I believe. Some say she was a witch. Perhaps she enchanted him.” 

You couldn’t look at her. She was more than just a whore? Had he lied to you right from the beginning? Bile rose up in your throat. There was a thrum in your ears, the sound of your own heartbeat and you feared that you would be sick from the drop in your gut. 

“Did he love her? Could he still?”

Alicent sucked in a breath. “I do not know, my child.”

All you could do was nod pathetically. Alicent was a woman of great strength and dedication; you had once wished to be much like her one day. But as you sat beside her now, you wished she had been a liar and a cheat and a meddling gossip. That you could find a way to fault her words but you could tell it caused her great difficulty to speak of Aemond’s actions honestly. 

Ever poised and elegant, Alicent only leaned forward to you, her posture straight as a needle and her touch soft as linen. “I did not mean to upset you further. I only meant to speak with you about returning to Courtly activities, with the other Ladies and Helaena has been asking for you. And the Ladies speak–”

“They speak terribly of me,” you scoffed, allowing a humourless laugh. “I understand, Your Grace. I will return to spending my days in company other than my own.”

Alicent hated to pry but she felt that she must, now that she had dealt her cards against Aemond’s fate. “Perhaps you should speak with Aemond. He cares for you deeply. It would be a shame for your union to fall apart over such misunderstandings.”

If not for formality, you would have rolled your eyes. Again, you simply nodded, your mind reeling back to the woman that Alicent had given a name to. You would ask Aemond about her. It would be the less damning option rather than turning to Aegon once more but the idea of speaking to Aemond about a woman he may once have loved still made you want to crawl underneath the sheets of your bed and disappear. 

You thought of the woman who you had seen through the crack in the door and wished you had taken extra care in looking at her. There was little you could recall other than the darkness and length of her hair, the paleness of her skin and the perfection in her curves as she pleasured Aemond and as he did the same for her. 

As if she was familiar with all the things that made him weak. All the things that made Aemond weak. How she had touched him like she was an expert in his body. And you thought of Aemond, bare and comfortable with her. Aemond with his sapphire glimmering under the lamplight instead of an eye, a rawness and trust that you had never seen of him until that night. 

He trusted her.

Alys Rivers. 

.....................................................

Tagging: @padfooteyes @thedyingwriter @mamawiggers1980 @queenofshinigamis @ewanmitchellfanatic @nurtargaryen

[plus-size-reader]

Loyalty

Aemond Targaryen x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 3628 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The reader is closer to Aegon, which is unacceptable to Aemond, who is in love with her and always has been

(Disclaimer: I despise the brutality against women used as a plot device for 'entertainment' so any SA or ickiness regarding Aegon doesn't exist in my universe. He's still a burden on the realm and uber pathetic tho)

—————————————————————————————————

You had always cared for Aegon.

He could be challenging sometimes, you knew that better than anyone, but that didn’t change the fact that he was important to you. As children, he would share his toys with you and tell you stories of worlds far beyond this one.

Things changed as you got older, of course, but he was still Aegon. It didn’t matter how crass, cruel, or drunk he got.

He was your truest friend, and that meant that you were willing to put up with certain things for his sake.

At this moment, for example, you were listening to him drunkenly ramble about battle strategy and knights he figured he could best in combat over dinner. Did you particularly care about either of those things? Of course not.

…but Aegon did, so you listened all the same.

Just as the rest of his family did, because like it or not, he was the firstborn son and this kingdom was his to inherit.

One member of his family, in particular, was less than thrilled with this arrangement. At the other end of the table sat Aemond, the second son of King Viserys Targaryen, drinking from his own goblet to keep the bile from rising in his throat.

You had to be kidding.

Did you truly find his brother that interesting? It wasn’t possible that you actually believed him capable of besting Sir Harwin Strong in hand-to-hand combat. Aegon could hardly stand on his own most of the time.

He would die in a fight like that, and Aemond knew you were clever enough to know that. Still, you said nothing as he continued his rant.

You just kept listening, with a soft smile playing at your lips, as if his idiot brother wasn’t an embarrassment to his bloodline.

“I know for certain that I could have been a knight, the best knight there ever was” Aegon spouted, slurring his words lightly toward their end and earning a soft giggle from you as you imagined what that would look like.

It was a lie.

Aegon didn’t have what it took to be a knight by any stretch of the imagination but your laughter wasn’t so much about what he said. More than anything, it was about Aegon. He was drunk, as he so often was, but in moments like these, it didn’t matter.

This was how he’d been as a boy too, and that was the part that amused you. The slight glimpses of the dreamer he’d been before the world had robbed him of his right to dream.

Before he’d turned into nothing more than a man, seeking out his own pleasures, even at the expense of every other.

“I think I would quite like to see that” you mused, sipping from your own cup, though you weren’t anywhere near as under the influence as he was. You had been nursing the same goblet all night, one cup for Aegon’s seven.

It wasn’t really a challenge, but like he so often did, Aegon took it as one anyway.

“I would venture I could even beat Aemond, if he’d be brave enough to face me,” he added, shooting his brother a look that did sort of alarm you. It was beyond harmless musings about the knights of the realm and famed warriors.

This was a bit more personal, and you didn’t like where it was heading. “I could even cover an eye, make it fair for him”

Naturally, in his drunken state, Aegon’s movements were clumsy and rash but the implications when his left hand came up to cover his eye were just as impactful as they would have been if they’d been delivered sober.

You were silent for a moment, your gaze shifting between the future King’s lopsided grin and the sharp glare of his younger brother.

He knew that he’d been insulted, and you didn’t expect him to forgive it, but shot him a look anyway. It was small, but the message was clear.

You were asking him to ignore his brother’s ill conceived attempt at humor.

“Alright, perhaps you should slow down, Aegon” you suggested finally, resting your hand gingerly on his wrist, all but forcing the cup in his hand back to the table’s surface the moment he once again attempted to lift it to his mouth.

He had already been drinking most of the day and as the sun slowly retreated from the sky, it was certainly time to stop. Your fear for what he’d do if he didn’t was only furthering your insistence.

Not that you could make that clear outright.

“Y/N’s right, it’s about time for everyone to turn in” Alicent agreed, shooting you a thankful glance as she stood from the table, glad that she didn’t have to step in. The King had already gone back to his chambers, and with her leaving, everyone else was sure to follow suit.

Alicent had always been glad for the bond you shared with Aegon, though she didn’t understand it, especially in moments like this.

You were probably the only person who could have ever gotten him to do as you asked without the tantrum that normally followed. “Goodnight, your Grace” you called, watching as she and Helena retreated from the room, leaving you, Aegon and his brother alone in the room.

In the back of your mind, you were aware that Aemond was still watching you, his blue eye unwavering as he studied you, but you didn’t have time to figure out why.

Not before his brother once again pulled your attention to him instead.

“I’m not finished” Aegon tried, bringing the chalice back to his lips only for Aemond to scoff over your shoulder.

He would truly never understand how his brother had managed to survive this long, much less maintain his place in line for the throne. He had no real business being there, and he wouldn’t, if it hadn’t been for his birthright.

Though that would just be among the list of things Aemond didn’t understand, like why you were so determined to take such good care of his pathetic brother, when you got nothing back in return.

Aegon would never show you the same courtesy, not in the way he would, had he been in his place.

“Yes you are, it’s time for bed” you spoke softly to your oldest friend, but your eyes had found their way across the table to Aemond and his now sour attitude.

It was no secret that he and his brother didn’t exactly get along, but you didn’t understand what had happened tonight that was any more irksome to him than any other night. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d insulted him, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Every night with Aegon was essentially the same, and no one was more used to that than Aemond was. Not even you.

“Will you take me?” the firstborn asked, that twisted smirk finding its way onto his face once more as he grinned, never ceasing his drinking even as he spoke about being done drinking.

Normally, one of the servant girls would be tasked with trying to get the future King to his chambers, but between his cheery mood this evening and the silent appreciation you’d gotten from the Queen, you figured you were up to the task tonight.

“If you promise to behave, I will take you” you agreed, finally reaching over to snag his cup from him completely, the stem held delicately between your fingers.

Again, Aemond found himself swallowing back more than just wine as he watched the scene in front of him unfold.

Did the two of you really have to do this every night? Aegon was married after all, and if his mother had anything to say about it, you would be too, soon enough.

It was so far beneath you.

In Aemond’s opinion, his ridiculous brother could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve a moment of your time, but clearly, his believing that wasn’t enough to convince you. At this point, he feared nothing would.

“Are you serious?” he finally called out, not even bothering to hide the ugly tone in his voice. It was practically dripping with emotions, but whether that was jealousy or disgust, he wasn’t sure.

Perhaps it was some mix of both.

“About what?” you hummed, your focus not leaving his brother even as you spoke to Aemond, ignoring the clear upset in his voice in favor of getting the future King to his feet.

Because even when he was speaking directly to you, Aegon was all you could ever give your attention to.

Aegon was basically dead weight when he drank like this, and it was going to be quite the task for you to get him into bed without accident. Not that the servant girls complained, each and every night when they took the job.

They simply did what needed to be done, and you weren’t about to be any different. Those girls deserved a break from his drunken antics for once.

“I could get someone to do that for you. It isn’t your job to make sure he gets to bed” This time, Aemond was sure to monitor the venom in his voice, fully aware that it wasn’t getting him anywhere anyway.

If Aegon had spoken to you like that, you would have stopped everything to assess its origin, but from Aemond, it was almost as if he hadn’t opened his mouth at all.

Why he even bothered at all at this point, he wasn’t sure.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” you assured, draping the blonde’s arm over your shoulders and heading toward the door without a second look at his brother. The second son, the man who dreamed of taking care of you instead of forcing you to care for his every need.

The man who had been hopelessly pining over you for all the years you’d known him, but who you’d never once actually seen.

Left all alone at the table.

~

You were able to move quietly through the halls, finding Aegon much less drunk than you’d originally assumed once he got to his feet. His steps were clunky, and he’d been whisper-yelling in Valyrian at you the entire time, but he wasn’t totally helpless.

He’d had enough to fully give up on the pretense of his birthright, but not enough to be slobbering on your shoulder, which you had enough cause to be thankful for. In the past, he’d not been so gracious.

“Alright, go to sleep now Aegon,” you cooed, pulling the covers up over him and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “In the morning, we can take a walk around the garden”

The only answer to your suggestion came in the form of gentle snoring, which made you smile in spite of yourself as you left the room.

It seemed to you that the only time the prince got any peace was when he slept. He hadn’t always been that way, but as the days passed, you found it harder and harder to ignore the way the world was changing him.

You weren’t blind to the truth.

It was just as obvious to you that Aegon was a disaster as it was to everyone else. You knew that he was a coward and a fool and that the care you had for him was the only thing keeping you from sharing the ire for him that so many others felt.

You knew that, but the truth remained that he was your oldest friend and you loved him for that, despite his many flaws.

You were many things, and loyal seemed to be chief among them, even if sometimes you wondered if your faith in him was misplaced. Would Aegon be a good King? You weren’t sure, but you knew that you would be by his side until the day he proved undeserving.

The Lord’s chamber door closed softly behind you and gave way to a long dark hallway, which you maneuvered expertly. You had taken the walk between your chambers and Aegon’s a thousand times and you knew it like the back of your hand.

Still, you couldn’t account for everything.

For example, you never could have expected to be grabbed from your path until it happened, and you found yourself standing in an adjacent room instead of the long expanse of the hallway. You couldn’t see it that well, with only the moonlight streaming in through the window available to help orient yourself.

It wasn’t an altogether distinctive space at first glance, but it didn’t take you long to place it anyway.

The grasp your kidnapper had on your arms remained, even as the moments ticked by, and while it wasn’t tight or uncomfortable, it gave away the perpetrator in an instant.

Aemond.

No one else was capable of so much selfish aggression while also maintaining such a tight composure. No one else would have cause to take you from the hall, and certainly no one else would have the gull to do so.

Still, for whatever reason, apparently the blonde had decided to snatch you from your normal path and was now just holding you here, a foul look on his usually handsome face.

“Care to explain yourself, my Lord?” you scoffed, removing your arms from his grip as gently as you could, and trying to figure out what could have possibly gotten into him.

It didn’t make any sense.

Never had he attempted something like this before, and you couldn’t work out what was going on, no matter how hard you tried.

“My problem? My problem is that you couldn’t possibly be more of a fool” he started, essentially ignoring your justified response in favor of his own feelings.

He couldn’t watch it anymore.

It was bad enough that his brother was a bumbling idiot without any care for history or culture, or any actual skill. He couldn’t have the throne, the realm, and the affections of you.

That would simply be too much.

Especially when he deserved it so much more. .

“What are you talking about? How much did you have to drink tonight?” you wondered. You were used to Aemond being moody, and he could be unpredictable sometimes but never had he put his hands on you like this. Never had he spoken to you in such a way.

It didn’t make sense, and if you were being honest, you didn’t like it. This was something you wouldn’t have given a second thought coming from Aegon, but here, with Aemond in front of you, it confused you.

Aemond scoffed, clearly not finding your care for his well-being as endearing now that it was aimed at him. Even an hour earlier, he would have been thrilled to have even an ounce of your affection, but not now.

Now, it was almost an insult.

He was so tired of being the second son, and the second in line for everything. Just once, he wanted someone to pick him over his idiot brother.

“Not nearly enough. Perhaps if I drank more, you’d actually look me in the eye”

That got your attention.

You were silent for a moment as you considered his words, and what they could possibly mean in regards to this conversation.

It was an obvious jab at his brother, but it still didn’t help you understand what all this was about and you were torn. You didn’t know how long you were supposed to let this go on or how you were supposed to react.

On one hand, you never would have wanted Aemond to be upset but on the other, you couldn’t exactly explain being alone together in the dark, in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t technically allowed considering that you were both unmarried, and while the Queen was fond of you, you were certain she wouldn’t like this.

You sighed, taking in the distance, or lack therefore, of space between the two of you before you finally broke your silence. “Aemond, enough of this, what has you so upset?”

Your voice was soft as you spoke, hoping to get him to calm down enough to actually speak to you. He had always been the more rational of the brothers and he was certainly better at communicating.

It was one of your favorite things about him, but right now, he sounded like Aegon and you didn’t like that one bit either.

You put up with Aegon out of care for him and hope for the kind young boy you had once known him to be, but Aemond was better than that. You enjoyed his company, and the time you spent together was time you treasured.

You didn’t understand why he was so angry with you tonight.

“I don’t understand why you love him when he treats you so poorly. What has he ever done to deserve your affections?” he wondered, his tone matching yours almost instantly.

It hadn’t been his intention to yell at you, and it certainly wasn’t something he wanted to do, but one man could only take so much. At some point, he had to make it so that you saw who he was, and what he had to offer you.

Of course, Aemond would have preferred a heartfelt declaration of his feelings, in a room where he could actually see the sparkling of your eyes instead of this, but it was no matter.

Even if it had to be like this, little more than a hushed whisper under the cover of darkness, all that mattered was that you heard him.

…and what choice did you have after something like that? What had Aegon done to deserve your affections? You weren’t sure.

Granted, if you’d had time to think about it, you may have had a reason. You may have been able to explain the many reasons you’d chosen him as your closest friend but right now, you couldn’t think of a single thing.

All you could focus on was the way Aemond was peering down at you with so much intensity and the way his right hand had slowly snuck back up to your wrist at your side, fiddling with the fabric trim of your sleeve.

All you could see, and feel, was him in a way you’d never experienced before.

“I don’t know,'' you muttered finally, feeling a bit pathetic as you willed your brain to work properly. You had never once been stunned into silence by the presence of another person before, and it didn’t make any sense.

What had changed? You didn’t know. Apparently, in this moment, you didn’t know much of anything but instead of mocking you as Aegon would have, Aemond simply nodded.

That was what he thought.

You were so used to being devoted to his brother, and had been for so many years, that you didn’t even know why that was. You were so busy constantly doting on him, and dealing with his every thought and feeling that you didn’t realize it was meaningless.

“I could be so much more for you, if you’d only let me” Aemond’s words surrounded you the moment he spoke them, and like the crashing of waves, you realized what this was.

He wasn’t angry at all.

Aemond was hurt.

All this time, he was under the impression that the reason you remained by Aegon’s side was because of a longing, forever to be unfulfilled, but that couldn’t be more wrong.

You did not love Aegon, and it was not Aegon who made you feel as if you could breathe for the first time in all your life.

That title belonged to another, though he had clearly been just as blind to the truth as you had before now.

“I do care much for Aegon. He’s one of my oldest friends, but I have no desire to be with him,” you clarified, feeling the need to get that out in the open first and foremost. Getting a bit braver, you took his wandering hand in your own, giving it a testing squeeze.

It was so strange, knowing someone so well and not at all, all in the same moment.

Aemond tensed slightly at the touch, almost as if you’d struck him, largely because this wasn’t what he’d expected at all. In truth, he hadn’t had much time to consider anything at all regarding this conversation, but he never would have predicted this, not with all the time in the world.

“What do you desire?” he asked, his tone barely audible and inconceivably small as he tried to wrap his mind around how he’d gotten to this point.

You, the one he’d always dreamed of, were so close and yet still so far away. He felt as if he were to breathe, he may ruin it all, and that just wasn’t worth the risk.

Gingerly, you collected your thoughts, for once deciding to let your own desires out way those of everyone else.

Aegon didn’t matter, the opinions of the nobility didn’t matter, and really, Aemond didn’t either. In this moment, all that mattered was you and what you truly desired, stripped bare of all other things.

“I quite think I’d like to be cared for, for a while” you hummed, your voice equal parts certain and wavering as you tried to take a role you’d never known a day in your life.

If Aemond meant as he said, he would take care of you and that was something you desperately wanted. You just weren’t used to asking for the things you wanted, or even, needed. It wasn’t something someone of your standing had ever known.

…But, perhaps it was time to change all that.

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch Chapter Three: The Long Night

|Aemond Targaryen x Strong!Reader|

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: Thank you for the warm reception to the first two chapters! We're about to go 0-100 real quick, so hold onto your butts. This is also the longest chapter of the story, hence the title of "The Long Night". It's around 10k words. ୧⁠(⁠＾⁠ ⁠〰⁠ ⁠＾⁠)⁠୨ A few lines stuck with me while writing this chapter from the song Gibson Girl by Ethel Cain:

“And if you hate me. Please don’t tell me. Just let the lights bleed all over me.” - Ethel Cain, Gibson Girl.

Chapter Warnings: Aegon window scene, emotional abuse of a child, if the reader has zero lovers haters Aemond is dead, COCSA.

The afternoon air was refreshing to the eldest son of the king, the sun warming the ruddy skin of his cock as he stroked it to total hardness. As Aegon grew older, the more the days seemed to drag on in an endless loop of mind-numbing misery. Duties, lessons, and more raging from his mother on the importance of said responsibilities until the time all muddled into one continuous circle. Wine, cuffing Aemond, and fucking his prick raw seemed to be the only things that could bring him out of this dull, never-ending cycle. 

Each day, Aegon discovered a new object that made his member pulse with a flush of blood. It was part of what made it so distracting. One day, a young serving girl with exceptionally long legs caught the prince’s eye. Her quickly shifted gaze did not deter him in the slightest. The next was the thrill of danger, each time seeking completion at new depths of peril. Once atop his mighty dragon Sunfyre, his pink membrane wings sparkling against the white clouds as he rutted against his saddle, and another, at where he found it the easiest, perched atop his window ledge, stark naked as the day he was born. The threat of being discovered always sent a thrill down his spine and straight to his stones. 

Most recently, much to his chagrin, Aegon had discovered you, his sweet, albeit annoying niece, was the object of his desires as you ate an overly ripe strawberry. The pink juice dribbled down your fingers and chin, staining your lips red. He felt disgusted with himself at the time. You were his niece! This bothersome little urchin who followed his heels like a duckling, yet he attended luncheons with you, Jace, and that other one.

At first, he thought that maybe it was not you that caused his body to have that primal response but the object itself. It couldn’t possibly be you. However, after much trial and error, at one point attempting to have an intimate time with a fruit, he found the reason. Aegon soon discovered that after spending several meals with you, intently observing how you sucked the leftover yellow-orange meat from a peach pit, it was you he was aroused by, the way your tongue moved to lick the sticky saccharine liquid from your digits and thus became his ritual.

He would attend lunch with you and your brothers as that was the only meal you ate alone, observing how you consumed creamy puddings that he snuck from the kitchens, supplying fruits that would squirt their nectar onto your skin when you bit into them. It would send a thrumming inside his bones as he watched you chew, a simple act that no other maiden could seem to replicate. Aegon would wipe away the stickiness from your flesh with the swipe of his moistened thumb, feeling his stomach tense at the contact and dipping back into his mouth to gather more as you innocently giggled and swatted his hands away.

Then, when the meal would end, the prince would find himself in his room as he was now, clothes thrown about the area as he stroked his cock within the ledge of the windowsill, the images of you devouring the foods he gave you playing in his mind’s eye. And the best part, the detail that sent Aegon frequently rutting into his fist at all moments of the day, was that you didn’t know any better. You perceived it as your Uncle being kind, and you were eager to receive praise or attention from the person you admire.

What you didn’t understand wouldn’t hurt you, he reasoned.

Aegon was almost there. He could feel it, sense the impending release he had stored since lunch as he spat on his cock, pinching the ruddy head to stave it off just a moment more. It wouldn’t be long now. He could hear the bells that signaled the new hour in the distance. His stomach tensed, digits curling into a stone pillar for purchase as he released a gasp of your name through gritted teeth. 

“Whose idea was it?” Alicent’s voice rang out to the sound of the bell tower, throwing him from his fantasy as he stumbled off the ledge and onto his mattress, knocking his cup of Arbor Red out of the window. She repeated her question once more, disregarding the state of undress in which she had discovered her child. 

Aegon was embarrassed and disheveled, minding reeling as he struggled to catch his breath and understand her question. It annoyed him that he was cut off abruptly as if his mother had no regard for her eldest son’s privacy. 

“Whose idea was it? The pig. Was it your plot?” Alicent interrogated, ringed fingers clasped over her abdomen as her dark brows drew together in a scowl. 

It took a moment for Aegon to come to his senses as he brushed unruly strands of his curly blonde hair from his face, covering his exposed parts with his bedsheets. “No. It was Jace and uh… ” he stammered, picturing the other curly-mop-headed boy he could never remember the name of. 

What was it? Lorgan? Leander?  

It didn’t matter. Aegon couldn’t keep up with the children his half-sister popped out. Every day, a new babe seemed to cry in the Red Keep. “The-the other one, not the girl. I can’t be sure,” he eventually answered, squinting his eyes as he stared towards his mother.

“Aemond is your brother,” she sharply reasoned, disappointedly shaking her head and taking steps toward her slouched son. 

“Well, he’s a twat ,” Aegon childishly countered as frustration welled up at having his release stolen from him. He couldn’t believe she showed such nonchalance seeing his boyish body, let alone him being bare as the day he was born as he stroked himself to completion. 

“We are family,” Alicent lectured, brown eyes flicking across her son’s pale face. “You may cuff him about as you wish at home, but in the world we defend our own.” 

“It was funny,” the prince sighed with a shrug and realized his defense was weak. It was only a joke. It wasn’t Aegon’s fault that Aemond was such an odd, fragile little boy who couldn’t take his teasing. This would make him less of a bore to be around.

“Do you think Rhaenyra’s sons will be your playthings forever? As things stand…,” she continued with her velvet voice, her grave tone rumbling in her chest. “Rhaenyra will ascend the iron throne and either her daughter, or Jacaerys will be her heir.”

Aegon shrugged his sinewy shoulders, an expression of indifference on his pale face. He knew this already. He knew this when he couldn’t think and did not understand the importance of the sudden lesson in inheritance. “So?”

The Queen groaned, nearly at her wit’s end, as she looked at the Seven above for guidance in dealing with her incompetent son, fists clenching. 

“You are nearly a man grown. How is it that you can be so shortsighted?��� Alicent finally became level with her son, kneeling on the filthy mattress and rumpled sheets. She needed him to listen and hear the seriousness of the future for him, his siblings, and his potential children’s lives would be threatened should his half-sister become Queen. “If Rhaenyra comes into power, your very life could be forfeited. Aemond’s as well. She could move to cut off any challenge to her succession.” 

Aegon’s jaw trembled, lips twitching into a pout as his nose burned. His mother was so frightening when she was mad that he couldn’t help but feel like a child again. “Then I won’t challenge-” 

Faster than the prince could blink, Alicent’s digits pinched his pale cheeks together, startling him into submission as his brows scrunched in pain.

“You are the challenge, Aegon! Simply by living and breathing!” she shouted, words rattling in her throat. 

Silence hung thick between mother and son, a sense of catastrophe burrowing itself into Aegon’s heart as tears threatened to spill. He would not cry . He refused to cry in front of his mother as she screamed into his very soul that his half-sister would murder him and his brother when she became queen. The prince still did not believe it. She wouldn’t do it if he did not stand in Rhaenyra’s way. Kinslaying was the greatest crime one could commit in the eyes of the law and the divine. She would never. 

“You are the king’s firstborn son,” Alicent continued, squeezing Aegon tighter as she moved to smack his chest with her words, “and what they know and everyone in the realm knows in their blood and in their bones, is that one day you will be our king.” 

The Queen stared into his frightened eyes, which flicked over her like a rabbit cornered by a fox. Realizing the severity of her outburst as guilt washed over her, Alicent stroked her son’s untamed hair, a brief halfhearted smile on her plump lips, as she spoke to him with a sudden reserved tranquility that chilled Aegon. 

“I aim to propose a match between you and her eldest as an attempt at peace in the following days. She already offered Jacaerys to Helaena, but if Rhaenyra sees reason as you think her to have, she will have no option but to accept.” The Queen leaned onto her haunches as she swallowed, her mouth feeling of cotton as she looked anywhere but at her fearful son. “Seeing as you are smitten with the only good thing that has yet to emerge from Rhaenyra’s continued indecency, you will have no objections. Get dressed .” 

The eldest Prince struggled to steady his breathing as his mother left, heart beating as if he was plummeting from his window. Aegon didn’t know what to think or feel as his mother sighed profoundly and left without another word. 

He would wed his niece? Aegon thought that someone as pious as his mother would never allow a match between kin, let alone ones so close. It made no sense. She would reject one proposal only to give another of the same caliber. You and Aegon were the two eldest children and subsequent heirs, the most obvious match, yet Rhaenyra did not offer it. There must have been a reason that his mother refused to acknowledge.

It was all too much. It felt as if Aegon was lost out at sea and attempting to keep afloat, seeing landfall just out of reach as wave after wave of saltwater stung his eyes and filled his lungs until he sank into the cold and murky waters below. Aegon needed a drink to quiet his nerves and a good release, for that matter, as his eyes traveled to the colorful array of exotic fruits resting in a bowl on his nightstand. 

The evening was upon King’s Landing as you and your brothers readied for bed. A maid ran a silver ivory tooth comb through your brown hair, detangling the knots and frizz accumulated during the day. Jace and Luke prepared with their man servants in the adjoining room, the younger running across the stone floor and into your room, declaring he was not tired. You couldn’t help but giggle at Luke’s childish actions as the servant chased him onto his neatly made bed, sliding across the sheets and causing them to wrinkle.

Moments later, your mother and father entered to say their goodnights, their presence whipping your brother back into good behavior as the manservant put him into his night clothes. Your mother always came to tuck the three of you into bed, even when there was a new addition to the family. Frequently, Ser Harwin followed behind her with a regaling of stories when your father wasn’t able to do the same, but this time, he was here, and the three of you crowded into Jace’s bed as you awaited your father to tell you of his journeys this past moon. 

He retold tales of sailing throughout the Narrow Sea with his father Corlys and the squire Ser Qarl. Your father sang bits of the same shanties his crew mates did before your mother stopped him as the three of you giggled. He spoke of battling pirates with silver and gold teeth and missing limbs who tried to board his ship on a misty morning. He could barely see three paces before him due to the fog on the calm waters as enemies boarded your grandfather’s boat. He proclaimed how Ser Qarl saved his life when one of the dreadful pirates knocked your father’s torch out of his hand. 

“The world around me transformed instantly, shrouded in a gray hue. The menacing figure of the one-eyed pirate, with his glinting gold tooth, vanished from view. Anticipating the bitter bite of a blade tearing through my flesh, I braced myself for the inevitable. Amidst the deafening percussion of my adversary’s approach, I stood steadfast, poised for the final confrontation. Bereft of vision, I awaited the fatal blow, resigned to my fate. Yet, like the Warrior himself, emerging from the mist, Ser Qarl materialized and drove his sword deep into the pirate’s heart, sparing me from inevitable demise”.

As your father recounted the tale, his hands danced through the air, adding flair to every word and making you and your siblings feel like you were with him. Jace and Luke were captivated, hanging on to every detail as your father wove the story with the skill of a master storyteller. As he spoke, it felt more like a fantastical legend than a real-life experience. The mere thought of your father not returning from his daring escapades sent shivers down your spine, prompting you to intertwine your arms and absentmindedly play with the delicate strands of hair between your fingertips.

With a watchful eye, your mother sensed your anxiety and gently reassured you with a kiss on your head and comforting words. “Don’t worry, my dear. Your father won’t be embarking on another adventure for a long while. He knows that his rightful place is with his family,” your mother consoled, lightly caressing each of your dark locks while sharing a meaningful glance with your father. “Enough storytelling. It’s time for you to go to bed. There’s much to learn in tomorrow’s lessons, and none of you will skip them.”

She looked at you with raised brows, her violet eyes wide enough that you could see the pink veins decorating the white. You tightened your mouth in shame and looked away from your mother’s piercing gaze as you, Jace, and Luke muttered in unison.

“Yes, mother.” 

A deep sense of relaxation washed over you as you slid beneath the cool, smooth silk sapphire bedsheets. It had been an eventful day, and now, finally lying in bed, you released a breath. Your mother first kissed your brothers goodnight as your father did the same for you, switching between the three in your separate rooms.

“Father,” you called out softly as he walked to Jace and Luke’s room. He turned towards you, his eyes holding a mixture of weariness and unspoken understanding as you buried your flushed cheeks beneath the calm, comforting embrace of the blankets. “I cannot stand the thought of you continuing to brave the seas alongside Ser Qarl and Lord Corlys. The danger is too great.”

You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. The idea of your father setting sail on your grandfather’s proud ship and never returning filled you with an indescribable dread. You couldn’t fathom a world where no one would swing you around, regaling you with vivid tales of swashbuckling adventures and stirring escapades on the high seas.

As Laenor listened to your confession, a faint but genuine smile graced his features. His eyes softened as he glanced at your tiny, fidgeting feet, a clear sign of nervousness. At that moment, he felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness toward you. Despite what others may say to him, you were his little girl. He knew that you often cared too deeply and worried too much about others, which weighed heavily on his mind. Seeing the effects of overwhelming anxiety on your petite frame heightened his concern for your well-being.

As he looked at you, he silently promised himself that he didn’t want to be the cause of your distress. With a wistful smile, he nodded and excused himself, reaching his sons. Deep down, he knew that a part of his soul belonged to the sea, but he couldn’t bring himself to share this with you.

He hoped his inner turmoil was not visible as he exited, but he knew you were astute enough to have noticed. Despite your tender age, you possessed a perceptiveness that belied your years, and Laenor couldn’t help but worry more about deceiving you than he did about his wife or mother. As he departed, he steeled himself for the impending storm of reproach from Rhaenyra upon receiving the maids’ reports about the tangled knots you had wrestled out of your hair while asleep.

Your mother’s warm and affectionate smile appeared shortly after your father’s as she settled onto the edge of the luxuriously soft feather mattress. She gently kissed your warm cheek and enveloped your small frame in a tight embrace as you responded in kind, nuzzling into her lavender-scented neck. She beamed with delight as you squeezed her tighter, pressing an extended, heartfelt kiss onto her cheek. In response, she let out a tender laugh, which quickly spread to you, causing both of you to erupt into a chorus of infectious, toothy giggles.

As you prepare to drift off into sleep, you feel the loving warmth of your mother’s heartfelt whisper. “Sleep tight, my heart. I love you.” She gently brushed her fingers down from the crown of your head, through the fabric of your soft cotton nightgown sleeve, and finally to your hand, where she gently massaged the tender skin of your palm, creating a sense of comfort and security.

As you settled into your feather pillows, your mother’s words filled your chest. “I love you too, Mama,” you replied, feeling a surge of emotion.

You could sense her watching as you nestled into your soft sheets, envisioning her gentle smile as she observed you finding comfort in your bed. Her soft sigh seemed to carry a hint of amusement as she watched you, her only daughter, wrapped in the embrace of the fabric, and it was almost as if her exhale itself held a trace of laughter.

What an endearing girl. My beautiful girl, Rhaenyra, mused as she rose to her feet. She took her time extinguishing the flickering candles one by one until only a single flame remained on the nightstand. The soft glow of the candle illuminated the room, providing a presence of solace for you, who had always been afraid of the darkness that the Red Keep brought. Though she would never admit it aloud, the princess regretted allowing Alicent to name you. She felt like an imbecile for the days after her first labor. 

Rhaenyra had a name for a girl. She had one since her mother was pregnant with her last child. You were a Targaryen, a descendant of the Conquers, and deserved to have a name like one. Alas, in a desperate attempt to create everlasting peace between the Princess and the Queen, she allowed her forgotten friend to name her daughter. An act that proved fruitless.

It was a mistake Rhaenyra would never make again as she opened the stalwart oak doors of your chambers, leaving one last expression filled with unyielding love.

You could still feel the whisper of your mother’s goodnight kisses on your face, releasing a deep sigh of relaxation as you turned beneath the elegant blankets and burrowed deeper into your soft pillows, arm tucked under your head. It took you a moment to comprehend the foreign object hidden underneath the satin-covered feathers as you grasped it with small fingers. 

You revealed a piece of parchment folded into fours underneath the candlelight and unraveled it curiously, wiping at your sleepy eyes with the back of your hand. 

It was a note from… Aegon , bewildering you beyond measure as to why he would do such a thing and how he got it in here without notifying your guard. The contents were of messy handwriting as if a chicken had written it, squinting in an attempt to decipher what almost looked like a foreign language. 

“I have a secret to tell you, niece, but you must promise that you shall tell no one, not even Jace. Follow the map I have drawn and meet me. I’ll be waiting. - Aegon”

Excitement rushed through your veins as you quickly went to your wardrobe and pulled on a midnight blue cloak. Slowly, as noiseless as possible, you crept over to the door separating you, Jace, and Luke’s room, carefully pulling it shut. You held the note in your hand as you followed your Uncle’s instructions, sliding your vanity mirror out of the blocked path he wrote out and stopping momentarily as the wooden leg scratched across the floor, ensuring your brothers did not hear. Your fingers felt along the stone wall, pushing with all your might against the innocuous slab until it gave way and a torch-lit passage emerged. 

You knew you shouldn’t be venturing out of your chambers at such a late hour, but the thrill of adventure was too enticing. Pulling the hood of your cloak over your loose hair, you couldn’t resist the opportunity. Aegon had never done something like this. He never sought you out to spend time together, let alone at such a late and secretive hour. It provided a good distraction from the worry that clung to your eyelids as you slipped down the dust-covered redstone stairs.

You heard rumors about hidden tunnels throughout Maegor’s Holdfast that he employed skilled architects and builders to construct them, and when they finished, he led them into the passages and killed every single one. When questioned about it, Maegor claimed he didn’t want rats to scuttle inside his walls . The thought sent shivers down your spine at the notion that within these very halls and alcoves could be the bones of a dozen or so men murdered in cold bold by your ancestor. 

The scuffle of shoes stole you from your mind, causing a gasp of fear to shake you as Aegon clamped his palms on your shoulders. Your Uncle cackled at having caught you unaware, sounding like a hag and flipping his unruly blonde hair back. 

“You got my note?” he asked as you nodded eagerly, showing him the parchment. “Does Jace know?”

You took a step back, brows scrunching together in offended confusion as you shook your head. Why would it matter if your brother knew? He wouldn’t tell anyone if you asked him not to. You were two halves of the same soul, bound together no matter the circumstances. 

“No, Uncle. You told me not to.” Despite wishing to do so. 

Aegon grinned, pleased with your obedience. Your submission to him was what allowed him to tolerate you. Your Uncle knew how close you and Jace were, practically joined at the hip, and even if he wanted to do something alone with one or the other, the other would always show. He was sure you would tell Jace when you felt the note underneath your pillow but was relieved nonetheless. 

As his eyes observed your attire, violet orbs flicked to your loose hair, white nightgown, and finely tailored cloak with a grimace. Aegon should have told you to dress down, seeing as he wore a tan undershirt and black trousers, but it was too late now. He would have to be extra careful. She looks common enough, he thought. 

“I was worried you wouldn’t come,” the prince confessed, placing his hand on your back to guide you. “I know your mother is strict with your bedtime.” 

You frowned as Aegon escorted you to Seven knows where. His insinuation of such a juvenile schedule deeply wounded you. As you understood, he didn’t adhere to a bedtime enforced by Queen Alicent, which only furthered your insecurities about your place compared to your aunt and uncles.

The narrow passage was filled with the high-pitched squeaks of mice and rats, making you startle and stand on your toes with each scurry past. Despite your protest, Aegon found amusement in your discomfort and callously kicked the next rodent that darted in your path. You supposed it was his way of protecting you, but the sight of the injured creature and its harrowing screech left you with a deep sense of disgust and sadness in the pit of your stomach. 

It brought to mind a painful memory of your Uncle crushing a butterfly that you and Helaena discovered in the garden, another instance of Aegon’s unjustified cruelty that you struggled to comprehend.

Water droplets echoed in the vast expanse of the underground tunnels as you and your Uncle ventured deeper into them. You glanced at Aegon, seeking guidance, and were met with a wide grin that stretched across his face. In the dim torchlight, the sparkle of his white teeth was visible, and the sudden image of your mother flashed into your mind. You found a strange comfort in your Uncle’s resemblance to her, starkly contrasting the unease you felt around the Queen’s children.

Despite being your mother’s siblings, Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond seemed distant to her, lacking the typical bond between brother and sister. Usually, aunts and uncles were much older than their nieces and nephews, taking on a more parental role than a playmate. This dynamic blurred the line between family and friendship, making it difficult to feel at peace with them. You found yourself grappling with the contradicting ideas of respecting and listening to them as you would your mother or father while treating them as one of your companions. You did not enjoy the disturbance this caused in your heart, burying those thoughts and feelings deep down, refusing to confront or acknowledge their existence. If you did not speak it, it was not real. 

You could no longer deny your curiosity about Aegon’s plans as you trailed behind, though the uncertainty stirred excitement within you. “Where are we going, Uncle? What secret did you want to tell me?” 

Aegon didn’t hide the way he rolled his eyes in annoyance at your insistent questioning, commanding you to be patient. He gripped your hand without much choice on your part as he led you down one of the dark tunnels with jagged rocks until you came upon a corridor with winding stairs. You peered curiously as he abruptly dragged you up the stone, your shorter legs struggling to keep in time with him. 

Soon, you found yourself underneath the starless night sky, walking a few paces before Aegon in the courtyard until he abruptly yanked you back into the shadows, a guard marching across your path. You were stunned momentarily at your Uncle’s foresight, staring into his concentrated gaze in shocked admiration, confident that he had done something like this before. Holding your breath until you could no longer hear the rhythmic clank of his armor, a burst of excitement filled your veins as you released a hushed giggle, Aegon following suit. 

You arrived in the wine cellars after a few more thrilling close calls. Bottles, barrels, and casks lined the dim room from floor to ceiling as a chilly draft swiftly passed through the area. Peering questioningly at Aegon, he studied the wooden crisscross rack of the different beverages until he decided on one and pulled it out of its cubby. 

“What is that one?” you interrogated, peeking over his shoulder. He shamelessly turned to you along with the glass bottle, carelessly flipping it in his grasp. 

“Arbor Red. I thought we might have a drink to accompany us. ’Tis a favorite of mine,” Aegon replied as he picked the wax off the cork and neck. 

You observed him with interest, hesitancy beginning to creep into your mind as you pinched at the fine hairs on your forearm. “I’ve never had that before. Mama only allows me to have ciders or a sip of white wine if I cannot sleep.” 

“She isn’t here now, is she?” he jeered, removing the wax with great effort to pop the cork. “Here.” Aegon offered without choice, holding the dark purple bottle out with one hand, tipping it in your direction when you stalled. 

You nervously accepted the wine with tight lips, tentatively taking a sip as you felt the saccharine liquid burn your tongue and ears, scarlet heating your cheeks. It was treacly sweet for your liking, causing a gag of disgust to erupt from your throat as you shoved the Arbor Red back into Aegon’s grip. He laughed at your disgust and took a swig of it without a care, expelling a sigh of relief as the cool, red liquid slid down his throat. 

“That’s positively rancid!” you giggled, wiping away the remnants from your chin. “How do you drink that?”  

Aegon held the neck of the bottle in his grasp, stealing another from the rack he thought you would like as he took a long gulp. “Like that.” 

You laughed in surrender, accepting the lighter wine that he picked and stealing a small taste as it turned your blood to fire. 

Your Uncle’s next destination was the kitchens as he led you up another set of worn stairs, following his heels like an eager pup to its owner, wagging your tail. There were only a few servants in crimson robes and dresses, their smocks an off-yellow color from years of usage as they tended to their late-night duties. Aegon kept you out of sight in the darkness as he took swigs of the Arbor Red, hiding patiently like a stalking cat waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. 

When it happened, he took your wrist, expertly leading you through the multiple counters and tables, snatching a tray full of almond cakes and drying fruits as suddenly a kitchen maid appeared. The tray of prunes and oranges nearly slipped from your grasp as you jumped, swiftly recovering as Aegon grabbed your cloak and pulled you back from crashing into the servant, running at impossible speeds. The woman shouted and scolded both of you as you nearly tripped over your nightgown, bounding down the steps three at a time, laughter echoing in the halls. 

Once Aegon felt that no one was on your trail, he stopped on one of the unguarded battlements of the Holdfast, both of you laughing breathlessly as the adrenaline left your body. Placing the tray of fruits onto the ledge, you uncorked the bottle of wine Aegon chose, spilling some of the bubbly liquid. You took small sips, finally appreciating the refreshing white grape flavor as you and your Uncle snacked on the stolen goods underneath the silent moonless sky.

“My mother plans to betroth us,” Aegon declared through the quiet, making your eyes grow wide in response as you shoved a piece of powder-covered almond cake into your mouth. “She worries that when Rhaenyra comes to power, she’ll try to hurt Aemond and me because we’re boys.” 

You turned to face Aegon, licking the white dust from your lips as you stared at him in confusion. “Why would mother try to hurt you because you and Aemond are boys? You’re family.” They were your mother’s brothers and much younger at that. She would never try to hurt them for any reason at all. 

“Because the people of the realm believe only men can rule and they will do anything to ensure that I do,” he replied, bitterness laced in his tone. 

Sadness overtook your limbs as you slumped onto the ground, your woolen cloak catching on the stone. You could feel Aegon’s hopelessness as if it were your own and leaned your head onto his standing legs.

“They may believe that, but they are wrong. My mother will ascend the throne and I will after her. She will create a new order throughout Westeros and people who think that we cannot rule simply because we are girls won’t exist,” you announced with great conviction, stealing a glance as your Uncle looked over at the thousand twinkling village lights.

“You believe that you will rule after her?” Aegon questioned dispassionately, his lithe digits flicking in disregard. 

“Yes,” you replied without a thought. Your mother had not officially declared you her heir. That would only happen once your grandfather passed, a notion which brought you grief, but you knew she would choose you. After all, you were the eldest. You sighed, touching Aegon’s knee to get his attention. “Besides, you won’t challenge her. If you’re married to me, you’ll still become king.” 

“My mother wants us to marry to make you a prisoner bound in chains of false love and children– to prevent my half-sister from taking the throne when they put me on it. How can you not see that?” He turned to you swiftly, staring down at you with an intense look that struck you to your core. “My existence is opposition enough to Rhaenyra’s claim, and it seems my mother and grandfather will stop at nothing to groom me into the next heir even if it is something I do not want. Rhaenyra will stop at nothing to get you back when they do so.” 

“Queen Alicent will use me as leverage to stop my mother from taking her rightful place…” you whispered aloud as tears brimmed at your lashes. “You’ll still be king even if my mother is Queen. You’ll be married to me! Isn’t that enough?” 

Suddenly, Aegon kneeled before you, taking your shoulders harshly in his grip as his fingers burrowed into your flesh. You winced and tried to lean away, but he stopped you, his face so close you could see the fair, wispy hairs of a growing mustache above his lip. “What don’t you understand about this?” he yelled, his pale cheeks growing blushing with ire. “My mother and grandfather will put me on the throne over Rhaenyra no matter who I am married to, especially a bastard. Mother only wants for us to wed so that yours will not have the option forcefully to take her rightful place with her daughter in the way.”

“I am not a bastard!” you screamed into your Uncle’s face, tears falling freely down your cheeks as you shoved him onto the ground, nor were you your mother’s favorite. “My father is Laenor Velaryon, and my mother Rhaenyra Targaryen. I will rule the Seven Kingdoms and wear the crown of Jaehaerys like grandfather does and how my mother will!”  

Aegon groaned, head tilting to the sky in exasperation as he laid his limp hands between his legs in surrender. There was no point. You wouldn’t see reason. “Of course you are,” he sighed, sitting on his haunches. “Twas foolish of me to say otherwise. Come here and not let these treats go to waste.” 

Aemond sought solace in the library’s serene, dimly lit atmosphere during challenging moments. While he cherished his family, particularly his sister and mother, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his oldest brother exploited his loyal affection. Despite societal expectations dictating that he turn to his elder siblings for advice, Aemond often found himself shouldering Aegon’s responsibilities.

He observed how Luke frequently sought guidance and support from you and Jace when making decisions and taking action. While Luke turned to his siblings for solace following a frightening dream or when Aegon was particularly unkind, Aemond lacked this support. Instead, he assumed the role of mentor, offering guidance to his older brother and comforting his older sister during challenging times. Unintentionally, his family burdened Aemond with the responsibilities of a caregiver, parent, and older brother despite his status as the second son, with seemingly no prospects besides living in the shadow of the firstborn.

In times of turmoil and uncertainty, Aemond sought refuge in the timeless embrace of books. Their weight in his hands provided a reassuring sense of substance, their unchanging inked pages promising stability in a world of instability. The authors had already mapped out the characters’ journeys within those hallowed pages, complete with predetermined destinies and unyielding conclusions.

Immersing himself in these literary sanctuaries, Aemond would momentarily escape into realms where he could envision himself as a formidable dragonlord of Old Valyria, astride a majestic and fearsome beast, commanding the submission of his adversaries. While it was the only place where a fleeting sense of happiness fluttered within him, he hesitated to label it as true to the elusive emotion.

As the moon hung high in the sky, Aemond found himself immersed in his usual pursuit of a tome that delved into the intricacies of war strategy. Unlike his niece, he had always eschewed fanciful tales and romantic novels, who took great pleasure in playfully mocking him as “a bore.” Although he never revealed it, her words stung, and he often retorted with a feigned air of anger.

He harbored a deep-seated jealousy towards his niece and nephews, which he vehemently denied. Underneath that denial, there simmered a potent brew of hatred. Aemond’s royal lineage, as the son of a king, set him apart from them, but that fact seemed inconsequential. They were the offspring of his father’s beloved, his sole child, and the source of his utmost joy. Viserys’ grandchildren held an irreplaceable position in his world.

Training sessions were held in the courtyard, and the king’s attendance was for something other than his and Aegon’s. He was there for Luke and Jace, the sons of Rhaenyra. Whenever there was a showcase of skills to display the dancing prowess Helaena and his niece had acquired, the king’s praises were reserved solely for Rhaenyra’s daughter.

Aemond was fiercely determined to outshine his sister’s children and earn his father’s approval. He longed for acknowledgment and validation, believing he possessed talents superior to those of his nephews and niece. Jace struggled with memorizing High Valyrian glyphs, and while Aemond could speak basic sentences, Luke feared his dragon. At the same time, Aemond charged head-first into mounts that did not belong to him, and his niece’s enigmatic challenges bolstered Aemond’s confidence in his abilities.

He struggled to find any significant flaws in her that would be readily apparent to an adult. Aemond observed that her persistent need for validation, love, and recognition, coupled with a hint of arrogance, could be irritating. However, he realized that the impact of these traits as either faults or strengths depended on the recipient of her unwavering loyalty.

His niece would go to lengths for those she sought admiration from, even losing her strong sense of justice when it came to it. Aemond could recall times when she protected Helaena from Aegon’s taunts and torture, nearly breaking his nose in recompense. She was carefree and joyful, unburdened with the weight of duty and pressure he faced, but when it came to the things that mattered, she showed restraint, unlike Aegon. He felt that one day, her fierceness and unapologetic service to the ones she cared for would be her ruination, which Aemond could not wait for.

Though he loathed to admit it, a part of him yearned to inspire that same devotion in someone. Aemond would never want it from his niece. She was not her father’s child. He did not need her love, but he still craved it. Whether it be from someone he despised or not, he would take it.

Aemond’s eyes wandered across the stacked books until he stumbled upon one that piqued his interest. He carefully reached for it, feeling the rough texture of the old parchment underneath his fingertips. As he flipped through the worn pages, he caught a whiff of the distinct fragrance that only old books carried, which spoke of centuries past. Taking a moment to appreciate the weight of history in his hands, he tucked the stiff leather-bound tome under his arm. He exited the library with his index finger delicately hooked in the ring of his lit candle holder, casting flickering shadows around him. The night air enveloped him as he embarked on the journey back to his quarters, the faint aroma of the ancient book lingering in the air around him.

Though he hid it underneath an annoyed facade, Aegon was terrified. He did not want to be king, nor did he want to marry you. He did not want to marry anyone, for that matter. Yes, you were a rather attractive creature, only when you ate , and frequently, he felt less than in your presence, but you were still a silly little girl who saw things for their surface beauty and not in their entirety. You could not comprehend why his mother and grandfather would still force Aegon onto the throne even if he would wed you. 

Despite what the entire lot of you claimed, you and your brothers were bastards. You had no Velaryon features. There was no hint of your father’s dark skin or white hair. Saying that all four of Rhaenyra’s children took Rhaenys’s attributes was stretched too far for any competent person to believe. But it didn’t matter. No amount of reason from Aegon, the Queen, or the court would convince King Viserys or the rest of you where your true parentage lied, not that it mattered to him. 

Hastily, you wiped away the tears and snot of frustration, nodding timidly to Aegon’s silent apology as you shoved a dried orange into your mouth. The pair of you sat in a noiseless trance filled with the sounds of crickets and intermediate chewing, taking sips of your wine. You refused to be the one to break the quiet, seeing as you weren’t the one who caused it. You allowed Aegon to stew with the lie of calling you a bastard as the bubbly liquid dribbled past your lips. 

Your Uncle’s fingers soon wiped away the drops before they could become sticky against your skin. He tended to do it whenever you made a mess of yourself, often when you ate or drank in his presence. You giggled demurely and smiled as you watched him lick the wine from his fingers. Aegon was always so silly like that. It was rare for him to be seen without a lopsided grin on his sharp face. 

The same hand he used to remove the liquid on your chin found itself on your thigh, gradually working his thumb in circles. It startled you. Aegon never touched you without the intent to hurt or shove you somewhere as your muscles clenched, but when no blow or ridicule followed, you relaxed, resting your head on his pointy shoulder as you often did with your brother. 

You enjoyed the happiness touch could bring and often initiated it with whomever would allow you to. You wanted those you met to feel the same comfort you did and to know that you cared for them so much that actions were the only way for you to explain.

“Can I do something, niece? But it must remain our secret,” Aegon whispered into the darkness. The torches whooshing filled the air as the wind swept through the cold night air, casting eerie shadows on the ancient stone walls. The flames danced and swayed, casting a warm, golden glow illuminating your secretive conversation.

Under the obsidian moonless sky, you uttered, “I didn’t tell anyone where I was going tonight. Don’t you trust me?” Hoping to convey sincerity through your expression, you kept your plans a secret from your mother and brother. To them, you were just in bed, peacefully dreaming of riding Gaelithox across the vast lands of Westeros.

Aegon smiled and released a puff of air out of his nose, which you assumed was a laugh, as he began to bunch the skirt of your nightgown in his fist. You hadn’t a clue as to what he was doing, observing him with a curious but unworried expression as his fingers pulled back the small piece of cloth between your legs. Turning your gaze from your Uncle’s hand to his face, you peered at him peculiarly, your head tilted as you observed his concentrated expression, his breathing becoming faster. Aegon’s cheeks and ears were bright pink, beaming like a beacon in the night as you smiled. Even though his face held an intensely focused expression, you could sense satisfaction radiating from him that flowed into you. 

Aegon’s fingers didn’t feel like much as he spread the skin of your privy parts, dragging his digits up and down like he was stroking a swatch of fabric. The sensation was more foreign than anything, like learning to write for the first time. You could feel every ridge and swirl of his fingerprints against your dry skin as he suddenly dipped down into the hole between your legs. It startled you, his single digit causing a slight burn of pain as you jumped in response. 

Your Uncle’s gaze faced you, his once violet eyes now eclipsed with a black that threatened to swallow you whole. He assured you that you were fine, and you felt him move beside you, helping you stand upright, leaning your back against the battlement wall, and rucking your skirt up again. You watched as he fiddled with his breeches, an inquisitive expression pulling your brows taught as he revealed his private  part. 

It wasn’t as if you hadn’t seen one before. You, Jace, and Luke often bathed together with the help of your maids and Mother, but Aegon’s, his, looked different. It was a lot longer than your brother’s, a bright, rosy color standing straight out from his body, unlike the downturn of your siblings. You looked to him for an answer he refused to give, rubbing his member against yours, creating an uncomfortable, raw sensation. 

You didn’t know that those two things could touch each other. It wasn’t a thought in your mind that you could use it like your hand to grasp another, but as long as Aegon was happy, you were happy, so you allowed him to continue doing what he wanted in silence as he spat on your area. You shouted in protest at such a disgusting action, attempting to push him away, but Aegon held onto your waist tightly, forcing you to glide over his manhood. 

“Aegon, that was gross! Why did you spit on me?” you interrogated, attempting to push him away, but Aegon paid you no mind, continuing to rub himself against you in faster motions and quicker breaths. The more he moved, the more your privy area started to hurt, a burning sensation that reminded you of when you slid your knee across a floor rug after falling. It didn’t feel like nothing anymore, and soon you wanted to stop, pushing your Uncle away, but he held. 

“Aegon, you’re hurting me. Please, stop,” you commanded him. But he ignored your plea, his hand positioning his member at an angle as he pushed forward.

You screamed . 

You screamed and screamed and screamed as you shouted for Aegon to stop, a feeling as if a piece of molten metal had stabbed through you, radiating up your entire body and searing your insides. Your Uncle groaned, releasing a sigh of relief as his hands searched for something beside you. He took a fistful of plum and orange slices and shoved them into your mouth to get you to silence. He covered your lips with his palm, forcing you to chew the fruit if you wished not to choke. 

Aegon waited too long for his release, which Alicent had interrupted hours prior. He was not eager to seek out his niece unless with the purpose of gratification. You were so desperate to please him with whatever he asked of you, even if it would harm another, that Aegon found it endearing. He began to imagine a life with someone as devoted as you by his. Would he finally get the validation he desired from his mother and father? Would you allow him to pursue his lust as he wished and welcome him with dutiful arms each time? Your well-being was no longer a thought in his mind. The idea that he could finally have someone who gave him anything he desired and would never be able to leave was far too intoxicating. 

Aemond strolled beneath the crimson stone arches of the Keep, looking forward to slipping into his warm bed and immersing himself in the world of literature that awaited him. The night was serene, devoid of the moon’s glow, causing Blackwater Bay’s tides to remain calm and the air to hang motionless. It seemed like the ideal moment for reading, and he felt a revitalized spring in his stride.

As Aemond strolled past one of the stone parapets of Maegor’s Holdfast, the sounds of a soft, high-pitched voice caught his attention. It piqued his curiosity, making him ponder whether to ignore the sound or investigate. Suddenly, another voice, more urgent and resonant, joined the first. Aemond immediately recognized it as his older brother, Aegon. It seemed that he was attempting, and likely failing, to charm another maid again. Aemond sighed profoundly and glanced toward his chambers, wondering if he should intervene or retire for the evening. 

It was merely a brief stroll. Aemond could have retired to bed without concern for his older brother’s mischief. Nevertheless, he couldn’t bear the thought of disregarding the plight of the unfortunate servant girl and failing to intervene. Aemond Targaryen prided himself on his sense of honor. With each step, he could feel the weight of exhaustion and the burden of his conscience as he ascended the ancient stairs to the battlement. 

He stopped as he reached the top, finding his niece and brother in a state that would cause even the most experienced man to gasp in horror. Aemond observed how Aegon forced himself onto his younger niece, tears clumping her thick lashes and streaming down her cheeks. Shock gave way to anger as he recalled that same bleary face once jeering at his misfortune of not having a dragon, the girl who laughed at Aemond as his eldest brother gave him a pig to ride instead. 

Exhale. Inhale.

The prince remained motionless, a strange sense of eerie tranquility enveloping him. He felt nothing as he slowly retreated, the sound of the scuffle causing you to turn your head abruptly. Amidst the storm’s chaos, with no respite from Aegon’s relentless, tormenting attacks, your gaze locked with Aemond’s, the taste of your tears and ill-gotten gains mingling in the air.

Exhale. Inhale. 

You finally comprehended the significance of Septa Marlow’s teachings on ‘virtue.’ It was more than just a concept, but a tangible essence that one could embody and manifest in their actions. It represented the honor and reverence for one’s existence, acknowledging the inherent value of being alive and holding steadfast to one’s moral principles. Aegon’s actions cruelly deprived you of this intrinsic moral fiber, callously usurping the very essence of your being for his selfish gain.

Exhale. Inhale.

Aegon’s hand pressed firmly over your mouth, cutting off any pleadings as you desperately looked to Aemond for help. Aegon’s knowledge that it was wrong was evident in how he silenced you, his own set of virtues twisted and contorted into something unrecognizable by an external force.

Exhale. Inhale .

Aemond stood frozen on the staircase, one foot on the lower step and the other on the top. His bright purple eyes darted back and forth between you and Aegon. Inside his head, he couldn’t help but feel that you deserved this. He seethed with anger at all the wrongs you and your brothers had done to him. The injustices he felt burned within him—from the mistreatment of the pig to your unworthy existence, to the love and affection you received from his father, which he believed should have been his, and to your manipulation of his mother’s affections, deceiving her into seeing you as anything other than a sinful bastard.

Exhale. Inhale.

Your eyes, the teary pools of dark essence that threatened to pull him beneath it to feel your desperation and helplessness, tore into his soul and exposed his core for only you to see. Aemond was just a child, as were you, thrust into an ill-fated life before he had a name. No longer did you see your Uncle as someone who desired to hurt you but as someone who had hurt , both of you perpetuating the cycle that existed before your conception. You and Aemond were doomed to suffer unless one rose above and changed the narrative. 

Exhale. Inhale. 

“Aegon. What are you doing?” Aemond’s firm voice sounded, rising to the top step. 

His brother jumped in response, abruptly pulling away from you as you collapsed to the ground with a yelp. Aegon attempted to stuff himself back into his breeches as if that could hide what he had done. The blood on his brother’s pale skin made him unable to conceal it. 

“We… We were just having a bit of fun. Weren’t we, niece? We’re to be betrothed after all,” Aegon expressed as he steadied his breathing. “We’re simply celebrating preemptively.” 

As your eldest Uncle reached out his hand, a pleading look in his eyes conveyed a sense of desperation that might have influenced you in the past. However, this time, you met his imploring gaze with steely determination. Your breath caught in your throat as you resolutely pushed his reaching hand away, refusing to succumb to the unspoken agreement it symbolized.

Aegon turned to look at you; his expression was devastated, as if you had deeply wounded him. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips swollen from biting them, a silent attempt to contain his earlier excitement. It was the first time you had rejected his warmth in years, and it felt like you had torn his heart out. Turning his gaze to Aemond, fury replaced the emptiness in his chest as he realized that neither of you moved from your positions, causing his chin to quiver.

You were Aegon’s friend first. He could not change your mind, regardless of how desperately he wished to, and Aegon refused to subject himself to any more rejection as he pushed past Aemond and hurriedly descended the stairs, taking them three at a time, tail tucked between his legs.

You and Aemond remained in your positions for a moment after Aegon departed. As you stood there, your blue cloak draped over your shoulders and white nightgown concealing your slouched figure, tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably. Aemond, unsure of how to offer comfort, hesitated awkwardly. He struggled with his emotions as he silently observed you, feeling conflicted and unsettled by the situation’s intensity. He was at war with himself. 

A part of him found satisfaction in seeing you cry, a small measure of justice after enduring Aegon’s taunts for so long, but the other understood the great injustice and consequences you had endured, even if it seemed you did not. All he could do was noiselessly watch as you cried into the emptiness of the night, words of solace stuck in his throat. 

Your body hurt, sore, and trembling in places you had never felt pain before. You were so tired, so drained of life and energy that you felt as if you could sleep right here within the battlements of the Red Keep, but you knew that you would get into trouble if caught. Sneaking out and stealing wine and food from the kitchens would surely get you a reprimand from your mother, which was something you did not want. You were already in serious trouble for disobeying the Dragonkeepers and did not want to further your punishment.

With a great breath from your lungs, you wiped your tears, putting your legs underneath you and pushing yourself up. Severe pain shot through your body as you fell back to the ground with a shriek, skinning your knee. A fresh wave of sobs erupted from your chest, but you held them in and pulled your quivering limbs to stand against the wall. It felt as if you had been horseback riding for hours, your privy place sore and raw. 

Wincing as you made another step, you looked to where Aemond was, expecting him to be gone, but he was still there, gazing at you intently with a serious look on his freckled face. “I need to go to bed before someone discovers I’m gone,” you declared, wordlessly asking your Uncle to help you with your struggle. 

“You need the Maester,” Aemond countered, unmoving, eyes fixed to your feet. “You’re bleeding.” 

Quickly, you looked down to where he stared and saw your pristine white cotton nightgown stained in places with the crimson liquid of your blood. Your knees busted whenever you landed on the stone, red soaking through for all to see. 

“No,” you refused, tousled hair swaying in the wind as you shook it. “I can take care of it myself. Please, just-” Your lungs hiccuped as they tried to return to their regular pattern.  “Help me, Aemond. Please.” 

Your Uncle did not move. His expression curled into a slight grimace as you managed to stand beside him, placing a hand on his bicep. Some of you expected Aemond to walk away when you touched him, but he did not. Instead, he bristled under your damp palm and sucked in a noiseless gasp of air. 

The prince had not felt the act of a tender touch initiated without something negative associated with it since before he could remember. His mother always consoled him after being teased or Aegon guiding him to his misfortune, never just the simple act of human contact.

“What do you want me to do?” Aemond questioned, turning his stiff posture to you. 

“Don’t let me fall,” you softly commanded, a waiver to your voice. You worried Aemond would leave you if you said or did something wrong. You understood him to be very erratic around you in most situations, but you didn’t blame him for it. You were not always kind. 

Like a vision of divine benevolence, your Uncle wrapped an arm around your torso and hooked it around yours in support as he led you down to the torchlight aisles of the palace, using the shadows as cover. Worried that you could not find your way back the way you came, fresh tears sprung free. There would be no hope of hiding your disobedience from your mother if you returned to your chambers from the typical entrance, and the fear caused you to stop your shaky stride. Aemond turned his annoyed face to your frightened one, eyes wide like a fawn caught within the jaws of a wolf as you threw yourself into his embrace. You just needed someone to hold you, to cradle you like your mother did whenever you hurt yourself playing with your brothers. 

Your Uncle stiffened like the cold stone statues in Sept, under unusual affection and uncertain how to proceed. The last time you shared touch like this was in response to ridicule, and immediately, Aemond grabbed your biceps on instinct and attempted to push you away, but the broken cry you released at his rough handling caused him to pause. It was a noise that cut straight through the years of armoring his soul to the torment he suffered, making his nose burn. You were such a happy child, to the point where it irked Aemond, and to see you reduced to such a state even weaker than his after Aegon’s jests broke his hatred-covered heart. 

Perhaps it was because he now had someone else who shared his silent agony, a bond formed with tears and blood. Or because you finally understood how your actions affected those around you. A dark, twisted part of Aemond relished in your pain and hoped you were the victim of more if it meant you would come to him like this, weak and clinging to him as if he was the very air you needed to survive. 

“My mother… I-” you heaved, salty snot dribbling down into your mouth as you attempted to speak. “I can’t go back to my rooms the way I left. She’ll-she will know that I was out this late, and she’ll be upset with me!”

Aemond gazed down at you incredulously, and his upper lip curled in disbelief at how immature you were. No wonder you and Aegon got along. “Your mother will not be cross with you once you tell her what my brother did. Be reasonable,” he commanded as your cheeks glistened in the yellow glow. 

“No, no,” you shook your head vehemently, causing your dark locs to caress your Uncle’s digits and the smell of your citrus oils to waft into the thick air. It was a smell so uniquely yours, and despite Aemond aversion to such scents, he thought they weren’t as horrendous as he initially believed. “She is all ready upset with me for skipping lessons and disobeying the dragonkeepers. She’ll be furious if she finds I snuck out of my room!”

Your thoughts were like a fortress, impenetrable and infused with a heady titian aroma. You had ventured too far beyond the realms of reason, your breath quickening, leaving you feeling weightless and unsteady on your feet. Emotions surged uncontrollably within you, bubbling over like an overfilled pot of boiling water. You clawed at your neck, your face, and your scalp, leaving painful welts in your wake. The intensity was unbearable. The sight churned your Uncle’s stomach, but he couldn’t look away. You yearned to escape from this overwhelming torrent of emotions, to shed them like a second skin.

Aemond watched in paralyzed horror as you clawed at your flesh like a mange-ridden animal, with dark eyes staring a league away from reality. He had never seen something like this before, and it scared him to the bone. A rush of fear gripped him as he thought that you might dig your fingers into your skull and harm yourself. He grabbed your wrists to stop you, but your fingers yanked the roots of your hair, ripping out chunks of tangled brown. 

Aemond gasped in shock as your chest began to take gradually deep breaths, and a sudden serenity came over you, like a warm blanket in winter. An intense expression painted his shadowy countenance as he wrapped his slightly larger hands around yours, taking the clumps and tossing them aside.

“We shall go to my rooms, and we’ll tend to your scrapes,” Aemond stated in finality as you nodded swiftly, swallowing your briny spit. “We’ll need to get rid of your nightdress too. It is…”

Your Uncle could not finish his sentence, his violet eyes trailing to your slippered feet. You knew what he meant. It was covered in blood , and noiselessly, you agreed to his plan without objection as he led you by a single wrist into the barren Keep. 

This was a pact of secrecy sealed with neither words nor a handshake. It was a silent understanding born of shared anguish that you were now forever bound by eternal suffering at the hands of Aegon. Your existences doomed you and Aemond; with that, you would suffer together for eternity. 

Masterlist of Series

Spotify Playlist

How is everyone after that? Are we okay?

Rape and SA is typically not done with just the intent of sexual gratification, but to have power over someone. It's for the assailant to feel in control over someone who physically or mentally could not counter them. Whether it's because they've been SAed in the past or they feel like they have no control in their lives could be a reason.

When I heard that fact it hit me close to my heart as I was molested when I was a child. I've thought for my entire life that he did it only because he was curious because he was only about 8-9 years older than me, but I realized he most likely did it to me because I was powerless against him and he knew I wanted to be "cool" like him. I was around 6-7 years old.

My personal experience with sexual assault heavily inspired the dialogue and dynamics in this chapter. (Nobody can tell me it wasn't realistic!) Unlike the reader there was no one to help stop it and help me through it. I was so young I didn't even know it was wrong at the time, and even though he went to trial and was a registered sex offender, his record was cleared when he became an adult. In fantasy and real life, crimes like this still go unpunished.

If you, or anyone you know has been a victim of sexual assault, no matter how long ago it was, please talk to someone professionally or go to the authorities if possible. You truly don't realize how it skews your view of sex, love, relationships, and trust until the damage is done and is extremely difficult to work through. I do want to mention quickly as the story progresses you will see how a single act that one perceives as minor can cause you to do things without realizing that's the real reason why.

Thank you again for reading and all the kind words. I hope I can continue to live up to your expectations. (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp , @britt-mf , @marvelescvpe , @haikyuusboringassmanager , @discofairysworld , @livcookesgf , @nessjo

[darkestspring]

Could you do aemond’s react to blood and cheese when it was attempted on his own wife and children but his wife manages to fight them off

Aemond had only been out for a few moments, talking something over with Aegon and Ser Criston, you had just gotten back from wishing Helaena and her children a good night, ready to tuck your own children in. Daenaerys was three, Rhaekar was seven, the lights of your life. your own blessings. things had been off since poor prince luke's passing. even if it had been frowned upon, you had gone to the sept and prayed for him to find peace. you had seen how shaken and traumatized aemond was by it but it didn't compare and or do anything when luke was dead.

"Mama? can we go pick flowers tomorrow?" Rhaekar asked softly and daenaerys nodded her head frantically.

You smiled and we're about to respond until you heard loud footsteps and your hair started to stand. All the guards were gone since Aemond was only going to be a few moments. You grabbed the knife you had stolen from Aemond a few weeks ago out of paranoia and shushed your two children.

You stabbed the first one right in the neck as he came in, he went down quickly. The second one was a fight but it was better to keep him occupied with yourself rather than your children. Daenaerys started panicking and screaming as he managed to slice your arm and you finally shoved the knife into his chest.

You panted raggedly as you stood over him, pants turning into sobs as you rushed over towards your children after making sure they were dead.

"Mama, you're bleeding." Rhaekar pointed out almost quietly, moving closer to you.

"Mama's fine as long as you are, my sweet loves." You smiled at him but it didn't reach your eyes. You got up startled as the door swung open, Aemond rushed in with Ser Criston and Alicent behind in. They both looked ragged.

You frowned at their appearance but your children were more important. "Aemond." You rushed towards him.

"You're bleeding." He noted. "You'll need to see a maester, my love." He softly whispered to you before glancing over at his two children, looking them over quickly.

"They came in suddenly. I.... fought them off with a knife i stole from your collection. I... was worried something like this might happen. It's.... Rhaenyra sent them, didn't she?" You urged him for answers.

"Most likely."

That meant yes.

[mythicmanuscripts]

As soon as you said a/b/o i was sold! And no omega!reader, you stole my heart! Let me know if this is too specific or not specific enough but could we know what would be the best way to court the omegas of team green? How would they want to go about it? What gifts would make them fold the fastest? Would they try to speed up the process against decorum if they got too desperate?

Ooo great question anon!! Since we’ve never discussed a/b/o before, I think I’m gonna write some general head cannons for courting omega!Aegon and also omega!Aemond and then we can develop from there?

While this answer isn’t really explicit, I’m gonna put it under a cut anyway just because I know a/b/o isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. All a/b/o will be tagged ‘a/b/o hotd’ so you can easily filter it out :))

COURTING OMEGA!AEGON HEADCANNONS:

- so obviously Allicent would have a whole line of alphas available and she’d definitely have one in particular that she wants for Aegon. Does Aegon listen to this? No absolutely not.

- I think the trick with Aegon is to find the middle ground between letting him be independent and also caring for him? Cause Aegon would HATE to be controlled but also he will giggle like a school girl and kick his feet if you open the door for him or pour his wine for him.

- while he does certainly like gifts, I actually think he likes small personalised gifts far better than anything expensive? He is quite literally the king he can afford whatever he wants.

- he could not care less about the giant gold necklace the Lannister alpha presented him with, but then you literally just pick a flower from the gardens that he told you was his favourite and when you give that to him he blushes and thanks you and hisses at the poor servant who tries to take it and put it in a vase.

- it should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that he’s not exactly one for traditions and decorum, and so if he can see that you accept that then he’s so happy.

- he’s also VERY possessive. From the moment he thinks he might like you, he hates the scent of anyone else on you. He’s well aware that scenting is looked down upon before mating but Aegon found not give less of a fuck because there’s another omega glancing at you and he will not have that!!!!

- it’s also very important to just speak to him normally? He hates when people speak to him formally and put on this facade. He needs to feel at ease and supported by his alpha.

- also he will indeed get very desperate as time goes on, especially because allicent digs her heels in a little about his choice

- there’s a solid three weeks where he’s just losing his mind cause he knows who is alpha is. He can’t stand having to entertain all these other suitors, he doesn’t want them!!!!

COURTING OMEGA!AEMOND HEADCANNONS:

- most people get courting Aemond terribly wrong, because they see his strong and skilled he is and how he’s so very very intimidating and so alphas tend to think he wants them to treat him like another alpha? And make no mistake, Aemond has worked very hard to get rid of the omega stereotypes and he certainly wouldn’t want all the alphas in the keep to treat him like an omega.

- but…. He just melts when you treat him like an actual omega? The others bring him swords and books and armour, all things he can get himself very easily and none of it impresses him. You bring him flowers and the softest blanket you can find for his best and he just absolutely melts because that omega side of himself is so so happy??

- he wants to feel safe and loved and cherished and yes he knows he’s not acting like someone who wants that but deep down he wants an alpha to treat him like a proper omega so badly.

- So when you introduce yourself and ask if you can stand closer and ask before you touch him and offer him nesting materials and pretty jewellery and just whooing him like he's any other omega

-- this is because when you treat him like that, it means you see him as an omega deserving of that? All the other alphas trying to get his are rude and entitled about it, acting like because he fights and rides a dragon and does things not stereotypical of an omega then they can just demand his hand and he's supposed to be thankful that anyone is interested in an omega like him

-- but you see all those traits and just thinks it adds to how incredible he is? So when he meets you and you ask if you can kiss his hand and go for a walk with him through the gardens? He's sold.

-- During your walk, you have very real genuine conversations and you listen to him and you give him the credit he deserves. You know he's very knowledgeable and you enjoy learning from him. The others expect him to be quiet.

-- I actually think out of Aemond and Aegon, it would be Aemond who gets the most desperate and is the most likely to beg their alpha for more before anything is official. I know this sounds counterintuitive but I'll explain: Aemond never actually thought he would find a good alpha.

-- Aemond was convinced he'd either be alone all his life or he'd have to settle for some pompous alpha who uses him and who he'd spend most of his days avoiding. So when suddenly there's an alpha who treats him well and listens to him and who makes him feel so wanted and safe? It's so so so hard to wait.

-- Allicent warns him, tells him that he can't take this too far before he's mated because if word gets out that he has then he'd never be able to find another alpha but what allicent doesn't understand is that this is exactly why he wants more. He doesn't want anyone else to even look at him. He wants to be drenched in your scent and so thoroughly yours that there can be no one else.

[neptuneiris]

sparks (03/04)

Did i drive you away?

pairing: business-boyfriend!aemond x fem!reader

summary: at the beginning your relationship with aemond is perfect and there were no worries. until he becomes the Heir of his father's company, the most important in the whole country and certain events and certain people start to interfere in the relationship.

word count: 8.8k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

there will be an epilogue coming soon!

here it is finally! thank God!

I'm so sorry for the delay beautiful people, it's been heavy weeks where I was writing parts but I couldn't finish them, so my writing time was extended more because I didn't finish, plus I moved, my cat is lost and I've felt very sad about that, besides college, presentations and more, but seriously I love writing, it's my way to escape, so I didn't feel any pressure, don't worry about it :)

I hope you like this new chapter a lot, I'll be waiting for your comments, so enjoy and thank you so much for your patience and support!

In the midst of your relationship with Aemond, things between the two of you are charged with tension.

After the conversation with his grandsire, Aemond's suspicions could not have been more accurate because of the way he behaved. Despite everything he told him and left him thinking about the future of the company, he still tried to talk to you about it.

But you, again, did not let him.

Aemond had to go back to work, just as you also went back to taking care of your own responsibilities such as college.

Aemond's life was still immersed in a whirlwind of responsibilities and commitments. From the moment he woke up, got ready and set foot inside the company, he was already doomed to a busy day.

He had to attend meetings with his key executives, discuss financial analysis, take online conferences, answer emails, calls with partners and clients.

Every moment his desk was filled with reports, financial projections, documents and more that he had to review in detail. Not to mention that the partnership with Alys Rivers is still ongoing.

Still he would make the effort to get home early and spend time with you, every night making an attempt to talk to you about what happened that night, but you wouldn't let him, as you had things to do as well.

If not college, then work, besides having to clean the apartment, do laundry and make food, which Aemond offered to help you with, but the two of you feel completely distant from each other.

Because both he and you know that things between the two of you just aren't right.

They are not since that one night nor does it help you to read every moment in the magazines how Alys Rivers has been seen entering the Targaryen building, where Aemond is always mentioned as well and he assures you that they only had meetings even though you don't even question him about it anymore.

Each of you is immersed in your own thoughts, Aemond feeling helpless, frustrated and sad, his gaze reflected by a deep regret in his heart at not being right with you.

And although he wants to find a way to fix things, you don't want to create any more problems, more than anything else you don't want to interfere between his grandsire and him.

And as the days turn into weeks, communication is no longer paramount, the whole relationship feeling like emotional paralysis, with no clear path of how to reconnect where you hide in your to-do's and Aemond barely has time to spend time with you.

So you find it easier to forget about it and wait for him to do it too. But inside you are still just as hurt, humiliated and sad.

And that little free time he has left for you is simply not enough to try to talk to you, besides you won't let him.

Until that time of the year when Aemond has to travel to attend social events or board meetings, also to meet with his partners around the country to oversee the expansion of the company.

Until he tells you that the first trip will be to Storm's End with his brother Aegon, then to Highgarden and Winterfell with Helaena and at the end to Casterly Rock… with Alys Rivers.

And that you definitely don't like to hear.

"I'm not traveling with her, we're just meeting there for the event."

He lets you know as he starts packing his bags for this two-week trip and you help him out, because even though you're both going through a silent fight, you still care about him and have always helped him with this kind of thing.

But you do feel that discomfort all over you knowing that she is also going on a trip to the same place as him. And Aemond knows it as he watches you out of the corner of his eye, knowing your mannerisms very well.

"Eleanor and Cole will be with me the whole time," he tells you softly, "And I'm already preparing everything with my publicity team for when the press starts publishing pictures of her and me, I don't—

"It's okay," you tell him softly, placing his ties perfectly in the suitcase, "I understand."

He watches you for a few seconds without saying anything, as you continue to put his clothes away the right way, feeling his gaze on you but not watching him back, to which he lets out a long breath.

"I just want to make sure you'll be okay," he tells you just as softly as before, getting up to stand next to you, "I don't want you to be worried all the time. You know I would never do anything to hurt you."

You press your lips together, watching him for a few moments to refocus on the suitcase.

"Yes, I know," you tell him to cut the subject short, saying nothing more.

At this Aemond watches you with some sadness, concern and anguish, but at the same time with love and tenderness, desperately longing for you to share more of your thoughts and emotions with him without pressuring you.

But since he knows you won't, he chooses to hug you.

And he does it carefully, tactfully, knowing that at any moment you may push him away, but to his surprise, you feel your high barriers of defense crumble at that moment, his gesture catching you off guard.

And you with a little hesitation, in the end decide to hug him back, since of course you missed him just as much as he missed you, both of you sinking into a soft and comforting embrace, where finally just for that moment, everything feels right.

There is hope.

Aemond feels his whole body stop tensing the moment he feels your arms wrap around him to hug him back, he lets out a long breath and pulls you tighter against him, hiding his face in your neck.

And you hide your face in his chest too, inhaling his comforting scent, feeling at home again.

"You know you can come with me, right?"

He murmurs in your ear, making you smile softly against his chest.

"I'd love to but I can't. I have to work and attend my classes."

He lets out a resigned sigh.

"Then on your vacation we'll arrange a trip, I promise," he tells you then leaves a soft, tender kiss on your forehead.

You raise your gaze to him as he lowers his so he can watch you.

"Like when you took me to Winterfell?"

"Yes," he smiles softly, "Now where would you like to go?"

"I don't know," you shrug, "Maybe to the Iron Islands?"

"Perfect."

He tells you then leaves a soft kiss on your lips which you reciprocate, both of you pulling each other back into a tight embrace where neither of you want to let go.

And even though Aemond doesn't want to ruin the moment and the fact that possibly this invisible barrier between the two of you will no longer be there, he feels it's the perfect time for you both to talk about the topic you've been putting off that needs to be talked about.

"Y/N, about that ni—

"We need to keep packing."

You interrupt him instantly, gently pulling away from him and turning your gaze back to his suitcases, causing him to look at you sadly for a few moments.

"But—

"I'll go get your shoes."

You cut him off again, to start to move away from him and head towards the huge closet, leaving him with no choice since you definitely don't want to talk about it.

After that moment you both went through, that comforting moment, fortunately you don't feel that emotional distance anymore, since now you both sleep hugging each other, share breakfast and dinner together, also share about how the day went, like before.

Even on some nights there are movie nights, where finally Aemond finds that comfort in your arms, hugging and kissing you at almost every moment.

And you too after a stressful day at work or you are going through a lot of stress because of your classes, you hide from the world in his arms, feeling good and being that exactly what you need.

Until the day comes.

Aemond has to leave.

You drive him to the airport, where his private jet will be waiting for him along with Cole, Eleonor, you understand, his agent as well, and other security people.

The goodbye is hard, even though he's had to leave for business trips before, so neither of you know why. And by the time Aemond's jet flies, that discomfort returns throughout your body and so does that uneasiness.

At all times he lets you know of what he's doing, or at least the important things, like that he's already landed and also that he's already arrived at Aegon and Cassandra's penthouse where he'll be staying.

Before when he went on a trip he also did the same, letting you know where he is and what he will do, mostly to keep you informed, even now he sends you pictures of his breakfasts and also some views from Aegon's house.

You are more concerned that he is well and of course being miles away, it makes you feel safe that he talks to you about what he is doing and what he will do next, like attending those social events which is what he travels mainly for.

Until the day of the important event arrives.

Being at work, about to finish your shift, obviously you are not allowed to have your phone at hand, but when the time comes and now you have to go to class, when you look at your phone, you see severe messages from Aemond and also the notification of a link to a magazine.

This immediately tells you bad news.

And it definitely is when you read the title of what the magazine link is about.

Alys Rivers, co-owner of Riverlands Group seen at Storm's End… click for more.

You click on the link, curious, attentive and with a frown on your face.

The very famous businesswoman, soon to be partner of the important company Targaryen Inc, Alys Rivers has been spotted at Storm's End to attend an event attended by the most important businessmen from all over the country, among them, Aemond Targaryen. She has been spotted an early partnership between them but rumor has it that there may be more than just a partner relationship. We have also been informed that Rivers will be attending the same events as Targaryen in some parts of Westeros where Targaryen Incorporation has distributions of his company, so it is no coincidence.

After reading this, you read Aemond's messages, getting an idea of what they are about.

And you… you don't even know what to think anymore, let alone feel.

It makes sense that he didn't know anything, since at this point after what happened with his grandsire, it doesn't surprise you that he didn't tell him anything because he knew Aemond would do something to prevent it.

And how convenient that also Alys didn't report anything about her presence at all the other events since it was only known that she would travel to Casterly Rock.

Later that day you see how Alys does indeed show up at the Storm's End event and Aemond quickly sends you a picture of everything, of him with Aegon, Cole and Eleonor, wanting to make you feel at peace and safe.

Then later he sends you picture of him arriving to his hotel room, he even sends you a voice message telling you about everything that happened at the event, he tells you that Alys talked to him, that again she tried to cross physical boundaries but he wouldn't let her.

Also that they both had to take pictures together, but nothing else.

And the next morning there are a lot of videos and photos of the event where he is with his brother, his partner Borros Baratheon and more businessmen.

There are also the photos of him with Alys, even videos where the two of them talk and she again touches him on the shoulder and arm like that, smiling flirtatiously at him all the time, but Aemond turns away from her to go to some men.

It's as if she knows that at that moment there are many cameras around and they are recording, so you get the impression that she is doing it on purpose.

But all you can do is really nothing since Aemond is the one telling you everything to make you feel calm, so you just continue with your daily routine, focusing on work and your classes.

Although of course unconsciously your mind is on Aemond and his trip, also on her.

Fortunately what comes next is more… relaxing.

The next event is in Highgarden, where once Aemond lands, he sends you a picture of him with Helaena, where he tells you that she sends you greetings, both smiling at the camera, making you feel a comforting warmth all over your chest as you see the picture, smiling softly.

During the whole trip in Highgarden there is nowhere where Aemond is not with Hel, even in the event when he is around Rivers, Hel is always with them.

The same happens in Winterfell, as Hel must also attend as she is the one who made the partnership with the Starks possible.

Aemond sends you picture of her very comfortable on one of the jet couches, also of the two of them having dinner and watching a movie, even at the hotel they both ask for a room for the two of them with two beds.

At the event also the two of them are together, there is even a very professional photo of the two of them with their partner, Cregan Stark, where he with Hel give a welcome speech to all the guests and then Aemond with him make known the innovations in their companies thanks to the partnership.

It's simply all work, as it should be. You even see Rivers in some photos and videos, but compared to Storm's End, she doesn't look very pleased lately.

Until the moment comes when Hel will no longer be in Aemond's company. And from then on, you can't help but feel uneasy.

And apparently Aemond also feels the same restlessness as you do despite the miles of distance that separate you.

He sends you pictures of absolutely everything, from the moment he starts his day until it ends. He also tells you what he's going to do, even if it's taking a shower, yet he tells you to let you know that's why he won't write you back quickly.

He even sends you video of what he will eat, mostly to let you know that there is no one with him in the room if that is your concern, also at night, telling you that he will go to sleep.

Honestly, Aemond has never done this before on a trip and even though you didn't ask him to, as if wanting to see where he is and what exactly he is doing, wanting to check on him at all times, Aemond does it for your peace of mind.

And without wanting to, you already find yourself waiting for him to send you picture or video of what he will do next, feeling paranoid and to some extent a controller.

You know that this is wrong, that it is not necessary, that neither of you have ever acted this way before and that it is as if you want to know Aemond's movements every second in an unnecessary and… toxic way.

And it's not right, you know it's not.

But Aemond feels that need and so do you, even if you don't want it, you feel that need to know that Rivers is not taking advantage of your absence and worse…. That he is giving in to it by making the partnership possible.

But Aemond would never hurt you, he has told you that and you know that, but you also know as well as he does that he has the eyes of almost everyone on him and will have problems with his grandsire by the time he returns because of Rivers' disconformity.

So even in the event, Aemond feels more that need to let you know that she's not around Rivers, that he's not doing anything wrong or giving her and him anything to talk about.

And the worst part is that you are there, attentive, waiting and watching it all.

Even after the event is over, Aemond tells you that he's going back to his hotel room, telling you that he's going to take a shower. Then he sends you a picture of him brushing his teeth and then another one of him in bed and at an angle so that you can see that he is all alone.

And only at that moment, for two full weeks, just this very night you feel completely calm and at peace, knowing that he is coming back tomorrow and will be by your side again.

And you don't understand.

You just don't understand what happened to both of you.

You don't understand how you went from having the most beautiful and healthy relationship ever, to this, where both you and he acted in a toxic and completely unnecessary way.

And when you least expect it, tears begin to flow from your eyes as you stare at the dark ceiling of the room, alone in the huge bed, with frustration and sadness completely invading you and loneliness settling in your heart.

You are honestly afraid.

In the midst of your storm of emotions, you fear that the beautiful and healthy connection with your boyfriend will soon be gone. You're afraid that the relationship will become toxic.

You just don't want to lose the intimacy and complicity you both have to be replaced to this, the insecurities and these needs to look good and want to prove that neither of you, especially him, is failing in the relationship.

And with everything that's going on, the company, his grandsire, Rivers, you have no idea how to fix it.

Aemond's arms wrap around your body tightly, clinging completely to your figure, holding you tight against him as he hides his face in the curve of your neck, inhaling of your soft scent that drives him absolutely crazy.

And you reciprocate his embrace in kind by slipping your arms around his neck, hiding your face between his chest and neck, leaving a soft kiss on his cheek to cling to him again.

"I missed you," he murmurs lovingly and almost melancholy in your ear.

You hug him tighter, lovingly, as you place a small smile on your lips.

"Me too, babe."

He too leaves replete kisses on your cheek, tucking you back into his body, not wanting to let you go, while to you all his scent and the feeling of being in his arms is more than gratifying, being just what you needed.

He strokes your hair as he inhales deeply, not being able to get enough of it. And neither of you say anything else, as actions speak for themselves and what two need, is the touch of each other.

It was two weeks but for both you and him it felt like months.

You both look at each other and he leaves a soft kiss on your lips which you reciprocate as you both have a small smile on your lips. Then you both separate and start to head towards the car once Cole and the other men help Aemond to put his suitcases in the trunk.

All the way he keeps holding your hand, while you drive to the apartment and he talks to you about everything that happened on the trip.

"Our trip to the Iron Islands will now be easier," he tells you proudly and visibly excited.

You are glad to hear that the companies are doing well and that he has had friendly meetings with his partners, in fact you tell him so, as he smiles softly throughout and thanks you.

He also gives you the news that he will have a meeting with Rodrik Greyjoy very soon that involves talking about plans for an early partnership between Pike and Targaryen Inc.

You hum in agreement, smiling softly.

"I could tell," you look at him for a second to refocus on the road, "I'm sure your conversation with him will go well. But you want to go on a trip there too?"

"Sure," he tells you willingly, holding your hand against his lips, "They say it's a beautiful place. I've seen pictures too," he says then leaves a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

Once you both get home, you help him with his suitcases and unpacking, while now you tell him about your days at work, college and also here.

Fortunately for him and you, it's Friday, so you both stay home and rest. He tells you that he won't be going to work Saturday and Sunday, so you have the whole weekend for the two of you.

You still have to work Sunday afternoon but you don't mind, it still won't be long, so you enjoy and take advantage of these free moments with your boyfriend.

Later that same night you both resume your nights of intimacy, which is something Aemond had longed for since you both had that fight after the event, leaving after traveling not too soon after that was just awful for him.

First you both take a little nap where nothing feels better than sleeping in each other's arms again, both of you without being an inch apart from each other in the huge bed.

Then when you wake up you go together to the supermarket to do the week's shopping and at the end you stay in the living room watching movies.

And it was also something you craved.

Obviously you're not as insatiable as he is, as Aemond really can't get enough of you when it comes to sex and really takes all his time with you. This time is no exception.

But once that glorious weekend ends and a new week begins, you both resume your routines from before and in which he simply has no time for you.

Again Aemond tries to do everything in his power to come home early and spend more time with you, which is something you consider and are grateful for his effort, as you knew that sooner or later he would have to go back to his old busy routine.

Not being on good terms with his grandsire, having to attend meetings and phone calls from his partners, making and reviewing reports, delaying as much as he can the partnership with Rivers just so he doesn't have to see her, it's too much.

And little by little, although he doesn't want to, he returns to his exhaustive routine of before and in which unfortunately also affects you for seeing him only at night at a very late hour.

Although he still does everything he can to make sure that work doesn't take up more of his time than it should.

You continue as normal, going to work and attending your classes, but you find it again sad and annoying that you are again having less time with Aemond.

As well as what you didn't want to happen.

And of course Aemond would have to explain himself, having that need like on the trip so you wouldn't think other things, telling you all the time, either by message or in person, that nothing happened, they just talked about work and nothing else.

Sooner or later Alys Rivers would reach her breaking point, so if Aemond wasn't looking for her, then she would be looking for him.

So you had to go back to reading magazine articles online where they talk about how they've seen her in the Targaryen building and so on.

That's how things were going on for a few weeks, almost for a month, until again and unexpectedly, Aemond has to travel again.

Aemond is technically not yet the head of Targaryen Inc, his father is, but due to his health, he must attend for him.

Again to Casterly Rock to an important event and also to a conference where Aemond will meet with the board of directors and his partner Jason Lannister.

Other businessmen will also attend as it is a general event and heads of major companies all over the country are in attendance.

The news of having to travel again catches Aemond and you off guard, explaining that the board meetings normally take place in November, but that they are earlier this year.

So as soon as he gets the news, he starts preparing everything for his trip, even preparing work papers and other preparations for his presentation at the conference, while you again help him and make sure he misses nothing.

He can't miss his meeting with the board of directors, it is paramount and a really big commitment, so you understand but you are disappointed all the same.

Honestly you are disappointed that you have to be separated from your boyfriend again, as you were not expecting to have to stay home alone for a week again.

The event lasts two days and Aemond will have to travel there from before to ensure his presence and avoid any unforeseen events as it is an important event.

Until again when you least expect it, the day comes for Aemond to leave.

He paces back and forth, making sure nothing is missing, while you help him finish packing one of his two suitcases, while he talks on the phone to Criston and then to Eleonor to continue making sure he has the right information about what time he has to board his private jet.

You then head to the kitchen and make a quick breakfast for him and yourself, you also make him a cup of coffee and ask him to stop for a few moments to get some food in his stomach, to which he does while still busy on his phone.

"Which hotel?"

You hear him ask Eleonor as he takes a sip of his coffee.

"Ah, yes, that's fine. But… about the documents, did I bring the folder with me?"

You at all times stand still, eating your breakfast and listening to what he says to Eleonor back.

"Okay, I'll go check," he says and quickly heads back to his office, still holding his phone to his ear.

You continue to stand still, as you watch him disappear down the hallway and let out a breath, not really being able to do anything since you know him too well and he always gets paranoid when he has to travel, making sure to get everything ready one last time.

A few minutes pass and finally Aemond stands still in the kitchen to finish his breakfast, though when he's done he heads to the bedroom to check his suitcases one last time and start placing them in the hallway for when Cole arrives and he has to take them down to put them in the car.

He paces back and forth, wasting no time, watching his wristwatch every second, counting down the time for when Cole arrives and he has to leave.

You meanwhile take his briefcase and place it on the island with you, waiting for the moment when he has to leave.

When they start calling him.

You look at the screen and see that it's about his grandsire, causing an unpleasant feeling all over your body as you remember the way he treated you last time, but you quickly let Aemond know.

"Your grandsire is calling you!"

Aemond comes out into the hallway with one of his suitcases.

"Please pick up, love."

You nod and accept the call, put it out loud and resume your breakfast.

"Aemond?"

"Yeah? What's wrong?" he exclaims from where he stands.

"How's it going, son? Are you ready?"

"Yes," he replies with a little force in his voice, securing his suitcase one last time, "Cole should be here any minute."

"You got all the conference details?"

"Yes, Eleonor mailed me everything," he says as he walks over to the island and pulls the phone towards him to take a sip of what's left of his coffee cup.

"Very well. Then you'll meet Alys and her uncle at the airport, I've offered them to travel with you, after all the three of you are going to the same place."

You immediately stop chewing, as well as your whole body stops moving, standing completely still and with tension all over your shoulders.

Aemond also immediately watches you, instantly realizing your reaction, but you look away from him trying to appear indifferent and with the lump in your throat you go back to chewing, bringing your cup to your lips.

You feel your heart start to beat wildly, feeling instantly how your tranquility disappears and suddenly you feel overwhelmed by all the mixture of emotions that invade you.

Meanwhile Aemond frowns and with a bewildered and also annoyed look, quickly turns back to his grandfather.

"What?" he snaps at him.

Otto Hightower lets out a long breath on the other end of the line.

"Aemond—

"I didn't even know she was going to the event too and why are you telling me this now?" he inquires her completely serious, in an annoyed and deadly tone.

"Because I knew you would do anything to avoid it and I wasn't going to allow it. We're so close to signing the contracts and I knew this was going to please Alys, so she'll see you at the airport and I expect… that you'll give her a good treat and please her for the entire trip."

A shiver of jealousy, insecurity and sadness runs through you, as you bite the inside of your cheek and try to act nonchalant about it all, but you know you're not good at hiding your true emotions and Aemond sees that, not liking his grandfather's words at all.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?"

He inquires him just as serious and annoyed as before and Otto sighs.

"I'm not having this conversation with you again, Aemond. Grow up and do what you're told if you want your company to survive."

"Maturity doesn't mean I have to do everything you say!" he exclaims angrily and exasperatedly at him.

"For the love of the Seven, it's only a flight, stop acting like a fucking little child!"

Aemond sighs and runs a hand over his face, wearily.

"I can't believe you're doing this to me."

"Everything is already decided. You're going to have to deal with it, whether you like it or not, I honestly don't care. And I hope..." he begins to say in a threatening tone, "That by the time you get back, Rivers doesn't cause a scene for me again because of your lack of commitment and interest."

"That's your problem and hers, not mine. When I get back I want to have a serious conversation with you."

And finally Aemond hangs up annoyed with his visibly frustrated face, where in comparison to him, you hide your emotions, not wanting to frustrate him more with your behavior upon hearing this new travel plan, acting disinterested.

So you try to make yourself really look carefree by taking your dirty plate and cup to the dishwasher, starting to wash them, not observing Aemond at any moment, fearing that he will notice your true state.

While you at all times bite the inside of your cheek, resist the urge to cry and insecurity as well as a host of other frustrating emotions completely invade your body.

And Aemond immediately notices, because he knows you too well.

So feeling the weight of the situation, he stands up with an almost tired face and walks towards you, instantly slipping an arm around your waist to turn you towards him and leave a soft kiss on your forehead.

Something inside you snaps as you hear this.

"I know what you must be thinking, but you have nothing to worry about."

He says softly, hugging you tightly and lovingly, holding you close against his body.

"The only one I care about is you and I promise I will stay in touch with you for as long as I can."

And a realization comes over you, holding you completely still against him.

"No matter how busy I am, I will always find time to call or text you, just like last time," he promises you, wanting to comfort you, "I will do everything I can to keep you calm while I'm away."

You feel that realization hit you all at once again and with your gaze gone and your lips parted you just blink, because suddenly you don't have the strength anymore, for anything.

And because of your lack of response and movements, Aemond separates his head from your shoulder to watch you, still hugging you tightly and not wanting to let you go until he is sure you will be okay, watching you with concern.

"Hey, did you hear me? You will always be my priority, no matter where I am."

"Tell me you understand, please love," he pleads with slight anguish, completely attentive to you, holding your face with both hands gently in a desperate action.

He assures you firmly, wanting to make you understand and wanting you to say something back, anything. But you just watch him for a second, then stare at a spot in the kitchen and say nothing, your face without much expression.

With a lump in your throat, because you really can't speak, you feel like a fool even though it's part of all the emotions you're feeling at the moment, unable to help it.

"Good," he murmurs confidently, feeling a little calmer and leaves a soft kiss on your cheek, to pull away and continue to prepare everything for when he has to leave.

So the only thing you can do, is that nod in his direction, without uttering a word. And apparently, that's good enough for him.

Aemond continues to make sure he has everything ready in his suitcases and that nothing is missing, leaving them by the doorway.

While you watch him silently, still with all that overwhelming mix of emotions invading your mind. Again you feel your strength drain away and anxiety takes over, with an ache beginning to spread throughout your chest.

While he in comparison to you is calm, unconcerned, having no idea of everything that is going through your mind at that moment, making you feel bad to be thinking this now.

How cruel am I going to be?

You wonder with sadness, as you bite the inside of your cheek and try to hold back the tears that want to come out of your eyes. You don't want him to notice your agitation, at least not yet, but it's getting harder and harder to control it.

You love him.

You love him deeply.

You know that perfectly well. There is no doubt about it. And you know he loves you too.

But it all comes to your mind hitting you like a violent wave, drowning you, the magazines, his work, the association with Riverlands, the event, his grandfather, the press, his travels and Alys Rivers.

You watch as he ready waits for Cole with his phone in hand at the entrance, typing quickly, assuming he must be texting him, with the suitcases at his side and his face of concentration.

"Love, could you hand me a folder I left on my desk, please? It's black."

He asks you while at the kitchen island he hurriedly checks his briefcase, as you bite your lips and swallow hard.

"Sure," you say without much emotion and head for his office.

When you return you hand him the folder and he thanks you to arrange everything perfectly back into his briefcase.

"Cole won't be long, we're already late," he speaks to you also in a hurry, "If you need anything you know you can call me. But you can also call my mom if you need someone to come over, she's going to Oldtown for another two months," he lets you know, "Okay?" he watches you for a moment and you force a small smile, nodding in his direction, "Okay," he mumbles.

And he disappears back into the room, mumbling that he hasn't taken his jacket, while you watch him, standing still again with your hard face, wondering:

How cruel am I going to be?

Then Aemond stands still again at the entrance to the apartment, answering a call from Cole.

"Have you arrived yet?" he pauses slightly, "Fifteenth floor, C100. All right," he ends the call and looks a little more paranoid, turning to his suitcases, "Almost leaving, love."

You don't say anything back, you just watch him and feel that lump in your throat again, wanting to talk to him but the words get stuck, feeling more of your anxiety, agitation, sadness and anguish, with tears in the corners of your eyes, not being able to control it anymore.

How cruel am I going to be?

It repeats constantly in your mind until the tears fall down your cheeks and that pain in your chest gets stronger, watching it without being able to contain your emotions anymore.

"I can't do this anymore," you say in a shaky voice, getting his attention.

Aemond looks away from his phone and watches you, where your state slowly takes him by surprise and he watches you completely attentively, a little confused, not understanding, starting to worry.

"Love—

"I know it's not your fault," you make it clear to him, starting to cry loudly, shaking your head, "But I can't anymore."

Aemond surprised, quickly turns to you, trying to speak.

"Y/N—

"The first time you went to Casterly Rock with her, I wasn't at peace. I was scared and not for you, but for her," you confess to him, sad, "And you sending me pictures and videos of where you were and what you were doing, made me feel like we didn't trust each other."

"Y/N, I only did it so you would be calm and safe while I was away," he tells you in a soft, confused voice.

"You don't understand," you insist, "That made me feel like a controller, like you think I need to be constantly watching everything you do, and when had that ever happened on your previous trips?" you inquire, "It hadn't been like that since she—

You stop, not wanting to say more, as you sniffle and wipe your tears with your fingers, lowering your gaze, sorrowful, sad and disconsolate.

Instantly Aemond stops in front of you, trying again to hold your face in his hands, completely worried.

But before you can say anything, the doorbell rings at that moment and you both know who it is, Cole. But despite this, he continues to be attentive to you.

"My love, I understand," he says softly, wanting to comfort you, "I understand that you don't trust her, I understand your reasons, but—

"It's not just her, it's also what happened at that event, the press wanting you and her together, the magazines, your grandfather, and I-I…" you sniffle your nose, "I don't want our relationship to become a toxic one."

At that moment Aemond looks at you completely unsure, his heart beginning to pound, his gaze completely intent and anxious.

"What? Y/N, what are you saying?"

How cruel am I going to be?

"I can't anymore, Aemond," you tell him in your completely broken voice.

He watches you silently, his lips parted, fully inspecting your expression, beginning to feel his pulse quicken a little too much, understanding perfectly what you are implying.

When again you ring the doorbell, which catches your attention amidst your trail of tears but not him, he remains attentive to you, not caring, beginning to feel a huge void in his chest, incredulous, advancing towards you in a needy manner.

"Y/N, don't do this."

"I don't have a choice," you tell him in pain and he again tries to take you in his arms.

"But—

There's a knock on the door, interrupting him, as he feels a painful lump form in his throat and he looks at you in complete shock, disbelief and hurt.

"Listen, can we talk about this when I get back, please?" he asks pleadingly, holding you by the waist firmly, not wanting to let you go, "Just…" he shakes his head anguish, "Wait for me, okay? And when I get back, we'll talk about it."

You shake your head, pointing your gaze at the door for a second.

"You must leave now."

And Aemond becomes more concerned about this, seeing the determination and defeat in your whole look of sadness, giving this up now and not intending to wait for him, beginning to feel his eye begin to burn and despair along with anguish invade him more.

"Sir? Are you there?"

You hear Cole ask from the other side of the door, but Aemond pays him no attention, wanting to fix this, desperately.

"Yell at me," he implores you, "Get angry, reproach me, anything you want, anything but this, please, I beg you."

You close your eyes, swallowing hard.

"Sir? I'm sorry but we must leave now," Cole again speaks from the other side of the door, "Your flight departs in less than an hour."

And al Cole again knocks on the door in desperation, clearly because he has to do his job and you're taking advantage of it.

You open your eyes and both of you stare at each other without saying anything, where you just wait until he has to leave, your face completely devastated.

But he barely processes what's happening, his eye reddening and his heart rate racing, waiting for you to understand and say something back to him.

"Go now," you mutter sadly to him.

"No, I'm not leaving until I fix this," he tells you desperately, on the verge of losing patience, "Just…please don't do this, not now. I-I don't… I don't want to lose you."

"Your grandfather will be upset with you."

"I don't fucking care about my grandfather, Y/N! Right now I don't care about anything, just this, us!"

Cole again knocks on the door, insistent.

"Just fucking wait!"

He yells at Cole desperate, upset, distressed, his emotions running high, not being able to control himself anymore and you decide that enough is enough, because Aemond won't leave, then it's best that you leave.

"I'll be leaving too."

You know that this trip is very important to him and you still love him too much not to worry about his work.

And the last thing you want is for you to be the reason for not being on time, which could lead to him not doing well at his event and conference with the board and his partner.

You murmur to him with a broken heart and turn around, walking towards the room, instantly being followed by him.

"No, Y/N, please, just wait," he tells you more pleadingly than before, "I promise you this whole thing with Rivers will be over soon, I promise!" he insists, "Or not, I just won't make any association with her, I can find another way for the company, I don't care what my grandfather says or—

"You can't do that and you know it. The company depends on hers."

"But you can't do this! Not now, please!" he exclaims in frustration, starting to cry.

And just as you're about to go into the closet to grab your clothes, he stops you, turning you to him to hold you and make you look at him, make you see how devastated he is, definitely not expecting any of this at all, feeling completely helpless and powerless in the face of the situation.

"Please Y/N, please," he says to you with a broken voice, as he puts his forehead together with yours for a moment, starting to tremble and feel an unpleasant sensation all over his stomach.

And seeing him like this completely destroys you.

You've never seen him like this before, you know you're breaking his heart and more by breaking up with him now, like this, like you're taking advantage of the fact that he has to leave to get on a plane.

How cruel am I being?

And even though you didn't want to do it, at least not now as he is asking you to, you know this is necessary.

Because you know that if he gets on his jet with her and you and he are still together, you will not be calm at all, you will over think things, things that are not.

If the partnership with Rivers passes and you and Aemond are still together, you will feel the same insecurity as always because the two of them will be partners and will have to keep seeing each other for the report of both companies coming together.

You will feel controlling, he will have this need to want to be good to you in an unnecessary way and you will just feel bad about yourself. And it won't end there.

And you'll have to keep putting up with the press, the boundaries Rivers oversteps, what Otto asks Aemond to do with her and the necessary justifications from him to you.

"I'm so sorry," you tell him with tears streaming down your cheeks and your face completely broken.

And Aemond shakes his head in frustration, in hopelessness, closing his eyes tightly, not believing it, not accepting it.

"Wait until I come back so we can talk about it and work it out. Don't end things like this, please," he tells you in a broken voice, starting to cry, "I-I love you."

"I love you too," you tell him the same way he does.

"And if you love me then why are you leaving me?" he asks you in a painful voice, not understanding.

Your whole face transforms into anguish.

"Aemond—

"Please don't leave me," he begs you once more.

Silence envelops you, where you both cry, you completely broken and he in complete despair, in the room where you both have shared so many special moments throughout your relationship, in the apartment where you began to form a little life together.

The air is charged with so much tension and nostalgia, where you both suffer from an intense mix of emotions, where you both suffer equally, as everything feels unreal, so suddenly and without time to react.

And Aemond tries to find any hope of being able to hold on, to get you back. But in the depths of his broken heart, he feels and knows that he has lost the battle.

And you also feel and know that this has been necessary, as broken as it has made you feel and in which you know, you are probably not going to fully recover by doing this.

The last thing you see of Aemond is how with his completely devastated look he watches silently as you pack some of your clothes in a bag to leave, still not accepting it, completely broken inside and imploring you with his gaze not to do this.

But you knew that if you didn't leave, he wouldn't leave and it's important that he catch his flight to Casterly Rock.

So without even saying hello or giving Cole a glance, you leave the apartment quickly with tears streaming down your cheeks, walking away from there and him.

You arrive at Floris' house in search of temporary lodging where she opens the door and you burst into tears in her arms, without even being able to talk to her about what happened when you cried uncontrollably.

And after a few hours, the next thing you know from Eleonor, simply because you needed to know for the last time, is that Aemond managed to get on his jet at the estimated time to land promptly at Casterly Rock.

She tells you that it was difficult but that they managed to convince him. And that's the last you hear from him.

Despite your determination to move on, every day at all times you can't help but feel a deep sadness and a sense of loss that won't leave you alone.

Letting go of your relationship with Aemond is difficult, you just can't. And rightly so if it's only been weeks, because leaving him behind, feels like giving up a very important part of your life.

You tried to find comfort in your daily routine, classes and work, but everything reminded you of him, all the time you were thinking about him and when you least expected it, you were already crying again, without being able to help it.

At night it is more difficult, you feel completely alone, you cry until you fall asleep, you questioned what you had done and in the middle of everything, you miss him deeply.

Days after Floris accepts you in his house, you immediately request a room in your university's residence halls and fortunately there is one available near your Marketing department.

You asked Floris to please accompany you to the apartment to get the rest of your things, which she did not hesitate to do in order to support you and also help you, taking advantage of the fact that Aemond was still away.

You did everything as fast as possible, not wanting to remember and think too much, you just wanted to get out of there with your things, avoiding to feel and let all the memories consume you, because you couldn't stand it.

A few tears escaped you, but as soon as it happened, the two of you left the apartment, locking it and slipping the key under the door, so as not to return it to him in person.

After a while, exactly after the week in which Aemond would already be back in King's Landing, he started looking for you through messages and calls, begging you to please see each other and talk.

Feeling even more broken, you decided to block him from everywhere, which caused him to come looking for you at work, hoping to talk to you.

But as soon as you recognized his car parking on the street, you quickly hid in the small back rooms, begging Sophie to cover for you.

You later found out that Aemond had been texting your mutual friends, asking how he could find you, where you lived now, wanting to sort things out, unwilling to let the two of you end up like you did.

Hel messaged you, so did Daeron, even Baela, but you decided it was best not to respond, because if you did, you would agree to talk to Aemond. And it broke your heart not to reply to any of them, especially Hel, but you know yourself too well and you did it for your own good.

But you never let him find you, because you knew you'd go back to him the minute you both sat down to talk and that's not what you want.

Not with his grandfather and Rivers still behind him.

Until one day Aemond stopped.

He stopped trying to find you and stopped asking your friends where you might be, you also stopped reading about him in magazines and social media. You read about his family, but nothing about him.

And so it went for a while, for about two months, where you to this day do not heal and you keep thinking about him, finding it strange this new life without him.

When one morning, a magazine article and almost all the social media announce a news that makes you understand now a little more the disappearance of Aemond not only from your life, but also from the world, surprising you.

You read the news in complete disbelief, thinking of Alicent, Hel, Daeron, Rhaenyra, everyone, but most of all him.

You know what this means, the note itself says so, but even though you knew it was only a matter of time, as Aemond told you, you are still surprised to see this, surprised that it has already happened.

Suddenly you feel a need and urge to text or call him, but you know it's not a good idea, yet the urge is there, thinking about how he must be feeling and all that he and his family must be going through.

Fortunately you don't do anything, but this leaves you thinking.

After almost everyone reads this news, the whole Targaryen family is kept in hiding, there is no sighting of them, no statements and absolutely nothing, which is what the press wants.

That's what happens for a month, until finally sightings of Otto and Alicent Hightower are reported. Also of Aegon with Rhaenyra and Daemon.

Until you simply decide not to be aware of it anymore, having to continue your life without him, since these are matters that don't concern you, at least not anymore.

So a few weeks later, Floris' birthday arrives, who invites his closest friends to a pub to celebrate in a small group, wanting to have a good time, relax and nothing more, to which you agree to go.

What you definitely didn't expect, was to meet your ex, Aemond Targaryen after all that happened and after almost five months.

general taglist:

@melsunshine @n4forlife @iamavailablesstuff @ttkttt @elliaze @trshngyn @tsujifreya @imsoshygirl @watercolorskyy @kckt88 @zenka69 @yentroucnagol @crispmarshmallow @bellastwd @queenofshinigamis @strangersunghoon @happinessinthebeing @iloveallmyboys

taglist part 3:

@hoziersfairy @bananaminion678 @targaryenmoony @skzenhalove

[anastaaaaaaasia]

The First Queen

Aegon II Targaryen x niece!Reader

Important notice: in this series reader has features of Ser Harwin, including Brown hair and tone of skin.

Next chapter

Prologue

Warnings: mention of blood, children (who knows)

Chaos.

The room was in chaos. Maids ran from one corner to another, midwives bended over the princess's body on the bed. The smell of sweat, blood and milk of the poppy mixed into one stench that was nastier than the smell in the farthest corners of Flea Bottom. The sounds were no better. The rustling of sheets, the maester's stern instructions and the screams of Princess Rhaenyra.

It was a hot summer day in King's Landing, so the windows were wide open. Those inhabitants of the Red Keep who decided to take a walk near the Godswood were unlucky, the windows from the maternity room just looked out there. Few people knew, but at the moment of the most desperate screams, the dragon Syrax also screamed several miles away.

Outside the walls of the room, in the corridors of the red castle, there was also chaos. Maids brought new potions while others ran around looking for new towels. When the door opened and a maid began to carry out bloody sheets in a wicker basket, Ser Laenor staggered and abruptly closed Jace's eyes. Although the boy is only a year old, he could not allow his son to see this picture.

Queen Alicent shrugged when she saw the number of towels and sheets in a bloody color. All of her births were relatively easy and it was unusual and frightening to see this. Any woman in the Seven Kingdoms knew that while men fight on the battlefield in armor and with swords in their hands for gold, fame and new lands, women fight on the birth bed with maesters and midwives, for their lives and the lives of their children.

Alicent was rocking the newly born Aemond at this time; the chubby-cheeked boy was calm enough for his age. One-year-old Heileina was busy with a toy dragon figurine her father had given her. The young princess babbled happily as the toy appeared in her view.

At this time, her father was trying to distract himself from his thoughts. He saw such a picture not so long ago, a couple of years ago. When Viserys met long-awaited son. When he made a decision that still haunts him in the darkness of the night. When he lost his wife Aemma. Just the thought of the possible loss of his daughter brought back all the darkest images and awakened what King Viserys tried so desperately to forget, but never could. The ruler of Westeros decided that if the maesters asked to make a choice in favor of a mother or a child, he would do everything to ensure that Laenor named his wife, no matter what.

Everyone was busy with their own worries, so no one noticed how the young prince, the first son of the king, entered the room after the maid. The boy hid behind the closet when a couple of moments later the room was filled with children's cries. He carefully looked out from behind the furniture and saw that the master was holding a new member of the family. They were covered in mucus and blood. Then Aegon thought how disgusting little children were. He might never even get close to Aemond, who knows, maybe he too suddenly becomes like this. No one wants to be dirty in this mixture, especially the young prince.

Then he looked at his older sister, she was lying there and smiling. Rhaenyra stopped screaming as if she had been eaten by a dragon. Now she was lying and waiting for the first meeting with her child.

“It’s a girl, princess,” said the master. Then he placed the newborn in the hands of the princess. She smiled and stroked her new daughter's cheek. This action caused a sudden burst of laughter from the little girl. And then Aegon looked further than he should have.

A sudden gasp from one of the maids caught the attention of everyone in the room, and Aegon turned to see the maid looking straight at him. Then the young prince realized that he was in trouble. He smiled guiltily and tried to hide his eyes.

“My prince, the birthing room is not a place for men,” said the master and ordered that the boy be taken to his parents.

“But you are here, and you don’t look like a female maester, unless you are hiding something from us,” the prince smiled, and devils danced in his eyes. The princess grinned and interrupted the slightly indignant maester.

“Dear little brother, may I ask, what are you doing here?” Rhaenyra looked at her four-year-old brother. The boy didn’t know what to answer and just stood there, then he shrugged and looked at his sister.

"Do you want to see her?" Rhaenyra broke the silence and pointed to the little girl in her arms. Aegon took a couple of steps to the bed and, with the help of his sister, climbed onto it. Big eyes looked at him, he couldn’t understand what color they were.

Perhaps he had not yet learned its name; playing with the sword was much more interesting than sitting in the chambers with the maester and listening to his boring sayings.

He also saw that her skin was slightly bluish. He remembered that Aemond also had a bluish tint, but after a couple of weeks he became pinker and ruddier. The next feature of her appearance was a pair of brown hairs, which he had never seen in his family. Aegon knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t explain it, and it didn’t matter to him. His nephew, Jace, was also dark-haired, and Aegon had sometimes heard his mother complain about it. He honestly didn't understand why Queen Alicent was worried about his hair color. It's just a color, isn't it?

Aegon wanted to touch reaching up to the girl’s plump cheeks, but suddenly froze, looking at his sister, mentally asking permission. Rhaenyra nodded warmly, and the little prince touched his cheek. It felt like the softest fluff, the newborn smiled her toothless smile and Aegon smiled back. Suddenly the girl squeezed the toddler's finger into her fist and started laughing.

“She seems to like you,” said the princess.

“What is her name?” Aegon asked his sister. Rhaenyra didn't know what to answer. She didn't discuss women's names. Yes, she always wanted to name her sister Visenya, but the wound from the loss of her mother and all her shattered dreams was still fresh. She didn't know what to answer and then looked at the young prince.

“What do you want to call her?”

Aegon thought only for a couple of seconds, because he knew the answer to this question. There was a name he loved and it intrigued him. How melodious it sounds and rolls off the tongue. He heard this name during lessons with the master, he was almost asleep, but when he heard the name he suddenly woke up. It was something from Andal legends.

“Y/N,” Aegon said proudly and smiled, the girl also smiled and drooled a few times. A few got on his hand and the young prince shook them off contemptuously. Rhaenyra just laughed at that.

"Sometimes children do disgusting things," Aegon declared.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Lies, truth and being back in Oldtown

Otto Hightower x wife!reader

warning : Otto slayed episode two (and I'm his biggest lover for it), fluff, kissing, little hurt/comfort, drinking alcohol, grandpa gets a time out with his wife, no use of Y/n, but they are THE player pair

Summary : The young prince's death a tragedy, Aemond's impulses devastating, Alicent's nocturnal activities sinful and in this mess of his own bloodline Otto is dismissed from the office of the Hand but with a personal victory and his supportive wife by his side…of course another dismissal screamed a couple of free time in Oldtown.

info : Otto was always good looking, he just got too good in the second episode and grandfather needs some time off. To be honest this is not my best worl I had an idea but my hands and mind were like ,,No we do it like this" and yeah it comes a little different. Happy reading and thanks for all the support.

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fire was no longer burning in the fireplace, the night was over and the day had long since dawned, a day full of emotion and excitement after the events of the tragedy that had taken place.

Westeros had lost a prince, the heir to the throne of the young King Aegon who had invested so much in his son.

For the first time it was something that made him cheerful and happy, his wife the queen had found a grip on reality, the dowager queen had smiled again when she saw the little prince and his uncle was at least satisfied that his brother was doing well.

It was a brief period in which all seemed well and the hand and his wife had at least a moment's peace and quiet in front of the family who were getting on their last nerve.

But in the Hand's tower room, the couple who had spent the night with good conversation and a little wine were also slowly stirring, unaware that so much more would happen that day.

At least her husband's dark eyes were on her sleeping form, darting back and forth over the papers and writings he'd had to take care of in the early hours. Pleasant as you are my star, he thought as he looked from his sleeping wife to the empty wine bottle, thinking back to the evening he'd come back to late at night and to his chagrin had to take care of business that his grandson or daughter were unable to do due to the death of Prince Jaehaerys.

His own great-grandson the little prince was a child without a care but he didn't have much to do with him, he was a busy man and his wife had a much better hand in family matters.

Not that he didn't grieve, there were hours when he would throw himself into his work and his wife would hug him, sighs coming from his lips…but there was no time for real grief at a time like this.

One thing they both knew was that in the beginning it had been excellent at keeping Aegon in check, one thing they were both sure of, it was because of them that everything here was running smoothly, that the city had not yet ended in chaos. ,,You're pulling such a worried face again," he suddenly heard her voice and saw that she had woken up from her sleep and had put the blanket on her upper body as she sat on the bed and watched him go about his work.

A knowing smile came to his own lips as he grabbed the hand brooch and came over to her, the face of a woman his age smiled softly and slightly tiredly at him, light wispy hair hanging on her head and yet it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

She was his lady, the mother of his two children, the great grandmother of the royal family and the only thing the green ones had left as a loving heart.

A woman he had married out of duty and politics but a woman who showed him that knowledge wasn't everything, how important it was to get things with ties while behind her stood her own powerful house and she was so much better interpersonally that he saw she was a player of the game in her own right.

,,The prince's death and Aegon's escape are troubling, I can't do everything," he admitted and pulled up a chair to sit in front of her, his hands taking hers in his and stroking the small scar she had gotten from her grandson when Aegon had thrown glasses through the small council and injured her, causing the hand to make a loud word and the king to withdraw.

But she straightened up, still thinking about him, she pressed a light kiss on his lips and took the golden pin from his hand, ,,I take care of the family and you take care of politics… pieces are set you just have to lay them right" she reminded him of the words and saw a knowing smile on his own before he squeezed her hands one last time and disappeared from the room with his papers while his wife, his shadow, his back wheel, his teammate got ready to go see if she could do anything with her family.

No matter how this war started she knew that the royal family were a bunch of mismatched people her own family was completely dysfunctional which was not least her fault and the fault of the throne it could have been different but things had happened and you had to make the best of it.

Lying in bed for a moment the smell of Otto a mix of paper, leather and wine made her smile at the conversations they had had emotional, devoted but most of all they were conversations about the tension in the bridge it was as if something was going to blow up at any moment.

Because this wildfire several hundred years later was the loud talking and shouting that could be heard in the corridors of the halls. The green golden dress of the royal grandmother was still wet with tears a few hours ago when she went to her daughter, the widow queen burst into tears, confessed her sins and sought refuge in her arms before they prayed together, it seemed as if she had at least caught her daughter.

Getting close to her granddaughter Helaena was always a little more difficult but she talked to her and tried to convince her with insects and help her, which at least ended in a little play with Jaehaera and Helaena seemed to have at least some support.

Aemond, on the other hand, had disappeared and she suspected to find her grandson in the brothels she had heard about a long time ago. But now she ran faster and faster as she heard the screaming and cursed inwardly that she hadn't been the first to find Aegon.

She hadn't noticed anything from outside, she had just been with her family and god knows what had happened again. Rushing into the room, the open doors alone made her nervous and she was met with a scene of chaos.

,,What's going on here?" she asked as the guards hurried to close the door before she stood between her husband and grandson, knowing the stunned look in her husband's eyes and Aegon's who only seemed more stubborn.

A sigh crossed the eldest's lips as Aegon put his hands on his hips and smiled, ,,Grandmother, I did my wife a favor and with Lary's help let the ratcatchers down," as he admitted his actions that hit her like a wave of bad wine at the wrong time at the wrong moment.

Her look of utter bewilderment went to her husband who looked at her the same way and shook his head, ..Aegon you hanged all the ratcatchers?" the elder asked her grandson and put a hand on his shoulder which he pushed away after a moment when he realized she wasn't on his side and went to Criston who was still standing in one place.

,,I am the king, I have done right and avenged my son," he countered, making sweeping movements and defending himself, not realizing what he had done on a larger scale, ,,You idiot, you have enraged the people, the foundation, do you understand that?" Otto asked, ignoring the warning of Cole, who stood by the king and pointed his hand at his grandson.

In his emotional state, Aegon didn't quite seem to want to understand that he had avenged his son and that was what mattered, ,,So what? I am the king the crown sits on my head by my father" said the Targaryen and his grandmother hid her head in her hands for a moment as she gathered herself and Otto slowly placed her behind him.

It was done, Aegon in his grief not seeing what he had done, the players of the game of thrones were no longer in control of their own game and the king began to move himself.

It was an abyss that opened up and they realized that they could no longer get through to him, ,,Is that what you think?" was the last question Otto asked his grandson before this abyss became something unstoppable as he dismissed Otto from the office of the hand.

It had happened again her husband lost the office of the hand in a situation that couldn't have been more nerve-wracking and the family's upper management had to find themselves without a place in the castle and a few hours later in an empty room of the hand.

,,He's a fool," she murmured, stroking her temple to quell the pain that threatened to rise in her head as she felt his hand on her shoulder and he held her close, ,,He's a dog let off the leash," he added, and they both knew that once they left the castle, they would be "free," but their family would perish. It was a feeling that the whole board game would turn and the family could no longer be properly protected.

It was a decision they couldn't change, and the feeling of his kiss on the top of her head only slightly loosened the knot in her heart. ,,What will they do without us?" she spoke her thoughts, feeling the temptation he was pulling her into, but he had no answer either, an answer that did nothing to ease her pain and grief, even as they made their way back to Oldtown by coach and ship.

But as soon as they saw the great Old Town, the tower of her husband's house, the fire burning inside and were greeted by Otto's brother, the atmosphere seemed to have changed.

It was calmer, you were hardly tense and even if you were always surrounded by worry like a draft of air, it seemed as if you could think more clearly again without being surrounded by city walls.

A city with a tower, the main seat, and large rooms in which noble couples found themselves looking out onto the balcony over their homeland, their hands joined together and drinking goblets of wine, ,,As if the blessing of the seven would calm you down," Otto murmured, placing the goblet on the railing of the balcony and looking out over the city where he had grown up and where his children had spent years.

,,We needed this blessing," she admitted, stroking a strand of hair behind her ear that had been blown away by the wind. She could feel his bend and knew that he was upset at how much he had been going back and forth now that they no longer had direct access to decisions.

They really had to play the backseat family members and even Alicent didn't seem to have a breakthrough anymore. ,,Yes, a break, my dear, is probably what we need," he finally gave in anyway and pressed another kiss on her, which she returned briefly, however much she loved him Lust was not what she felt on this day, rather a need for something palpable to help her.

She let her gaze sweat until she looked up into the sky, the infinite cradle, and drank her cup with one last draught. ,,We may have lost turns, husband, but there is something we can use to protect what we have created," she reminded him and grabbed his hand, pointing to the sky and the two of them looked up at the dragon in the sky with their youngest grandson on it.

She saw the same knowing flash in his eyes as in hers before his hands wrapped around her body, it had been a long time since she had seen him so unsettled. He didn't show it often that he was worried, he probably hated himself at that moment but he had a drive a cunning in him that she knew together they would save her house from its own destruction they hadn't given up their places yet, ,,Together the chosen pieces move on to a new one my star and we will be victorious" he added with a slight smile.

The apprehension disappeared for a moment before he placed his hand on her cheek and pulled her into another kiss. In every game, you had to give yourself a time-out to hit even harder on the next play.

~~~~~~~~~~~

@ewanmitchellcrumbs

@xionthelostpuppet

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Careless Words

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x nameless female character (third person perspective) Warnings: Angst. Toxic/abusive relationship dynamics. Mentions of death. Allusions to smut. Word count: ~2.8k

Summary: She has always given her best to Aemond, but they both know he can't say the same. Based on this request.

Author's note: I wanted to explore the darker side of Aemond's personality and how this might manifest itself in a relationship where neither party is particularly healthy in terms of their mindset. This was a cathartic piece for me to write. Lately I've been working through some resurfaced feelings linked to a past relationship that was based entirely around trauma bonding. It may be a triggering read for some, so please approach with caution (and try to remember the story itself is a work of fiction). No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Community labels are for cops. Please block me instead of labelling this, if you find yourself tempted.

Family, Duty, Honor; that is the motto of House Tully, a direct opposition of House Targaryen’s Fire and Blood. If she wasn’t so duty bound to Prince Aemond then she’d find the strength to walk away. If he was a better man he’d let her go. Unfortunately for her, nothing in a dragon’s clutches escapes without getting burned.

She is eight years old when she is sent from Riverrun to King’s Landing. She is to be a ward of House Targaryen, an idea that excites and frightens her in equal measure; she has never been away from her family before and the thought of living in a strange city with people she has never met fills her with uncertainty, yet she is eager for the adventures it will bring.

Her fears are assuaged the moment she arrives in the capital. The sprawling expanse of the city beckons her to explore its winding cobbled streets, the Red Keep is a maze of undiscovered secrets. Naturally curious, she gravitates towards Queen Alicent’s second son, Aemond. He is a quiet, sullen boy, not much older than her, and spends most of his time alone, reading. It is more than apparent to her that he does not get along with his older brother and nephews, and his sister is too lost in her own world to be of any comfort to him.

Aemond clings to her offer of friendship, and the two quickly become inseparable. She basks in the attention he lavishes upon her; sharing his books, learning High Valyrian under his tutelage, dutifully spectating for each of his training sessions in the yard, and accompanying him on his daily visits to the dragonpit - he has yet to claim a dragon, which serves to deepen his fascination of the creatures and drives him to near obsession with desire to have his own. 

Aemond becomes the center of her world, a position which he appears to thrive on. The first time he threatens to take that away from her is on a day that they visit the dragonpit. 

Aegon has lured him there on the pretense that the dragon keepers have discovered an unclaimed mount for him. However, he is humiliated when a pig is led out from the shadows, and he flees, distraught, back to his mother.

He lashes out at her that day, for the first time, when she attempts to comfort him.

“You will have a dragon one day,” She tries to tell him. “Ignore their silly jokes, it doesn’t matter.”

He looks at her with fury in his eyes and she shrinks fearfully away from him. His tone is vile, hateful. “It doesn’t matter to you, because you don’t understand how important dragons are to Targaryens. You are a nobody!”

She weeps bitterly when he storms away from her, it feels like she has lost her only friend in the world. She believes she has trivialised Aemond’s suffering and is ashamed of herself.

When he approaches her the next day, with lemon cakes, a book and a soft “I didn’t mean it”, she is so overjoyed to have Aemond’s attention once more that it doesn’t even occur to her that he hasn’t uttered the word “sorry”, she has him back and that is all that matters. And for a few days afterwards, he treats her with such reverence that she feels foolish for having been upset in the first place.

Aemond is ten when he loses his eye, and he puts on a brave face, though she is certain it is for the benefit of not further upsetting his mother and appearing weak in front of his nephews.

She is proven right the moment they are alone and he turns on her. She wants to support him, to show him she is unafraid of him despite the stitches that now adorn the bloodied ruin where his left eye used to be, but he will not allow that.

“Where were you?!” He shouts at her. “If you’d have been there for me, I’d still have my eye!”

She wants to argue that she could not possibly have known he was going to claim Vhagar, how could she have been there for him when everyone was supposed to be in bed? But the guilt his words inspire eclipse all rationality in her innocent, young mind. She ought to have anticipated him going after a riderless dragon, and been there to help defend him against the attack from his nephews and cousins.

“I’m sorry, Aemond, I’m so sorry.” She cries.

“Sorry will not bring back what I have lost,” He spits angrily. “No matter. I have my dragon now, I do not need you.”

He is lost to her once more, and heartache colours her world where Aemond’s presence used to.

“I didn’t mean it,” He tells her sheepishly, a few days later. “When I am healed, I will take you for a ride on dragonback.”

She does not need an apology, Aemond’s attention and willingness to share something so personal with her are more than enough. For a week after that he makes her feel as though she is the very stars in the night sky, and she basks in his good graces.

On Aemond’s thirteenth name day, she is excited to give him his gift. For weeks she has toiled in secret on a patch for him to cover the scarred side of his face. It is made of delicate black leather and has an intricate green dragon stitched carefully into the fabric. 

She searches for Aemond most of the day and cannot find him. When he does eventually make an appearance he is distant and distracted, not even uttering thanks when she presents him with the patch she has made for him.

“Aegon took me to a pleasure house.” He says morosely, when she asks what’s wrong.

“Oh,” She has trouble hiding the disgust on her face, as she feels sour jealousy spread its way through her. “Why?”

He scowls upon seeing her look of judgment. “Because I grew tired of looking at your ugly face!” He snaps, before storming off.

Her self worth shatters with those words, scattered away on the winds of Aemond’s temper, and yet again she is left to wait for his careless words to become kind, while she grieves his temporary absence.

I did not mean it. And so she forgives him, piecing herself back together with every praise and doting look he offers her. She cares not that he never wears her gift or thanks her for it, it does not matter that he doesn’t say he’s sorry, because when Aemond is kind to her she feels as though she has ascended to the very heavens above.

It is an addictive cycle, and as the years press on, she finds herself craving Aemond’s tempestuous nature in moments of calm, for the love he showers her with afterwards is her only means of reassuring herself that he truly cares for her.

Aemond grows bolder in his mistreatment of her, confident that she is too attached to him to be disloyal. She is one of the few things in his life that he is able to assert full control over and he wields it without a second thought.

Shortly after her sixteenth name day, Aegon attempts to force himself on her. She fights him off and seeks comfort in the only person she can trust; Aemond. Where she expects to find sympathy, however, she is met with scorn and rage-filled jealousy.

“If you did not behave like a whore then Aegon would not do such things. Do you enjoy the attention?”

She shuts herself away in her chambers, the ache in her chest unbearable as her tears soak her pillow.

While Aemond would usually leave it a day or two before seeking her out again, he comes back to her that same evening, telling her he did not mean it as he holds her in his arms. He takes her maidenhead that night, the sharp stinging between her legs, as he pushes forcefully inside of her, soothed by his whisper of “aōhon iksan se ñuhon iksā”. I am yours and you are mine.

As their relationship blossoms into something more romantic, their rifts become more frequent. Aemond always seems to know precisely the combination of words it will take to cut her deepest, yet it is a state she has grown to feel safe in. The blood of the dragon pumps hotly in his veins and as frequently as he inflicts this side of himself upon her, it is always followed by a softness that allows her to believe that he loves her, even if they are words he never says aloud.

When Aemond’s nephews return to King’s Landing his moods become trickier for her to predict. It seems impossible for her not to anger him, and his words are poison to her fragile heart. Yet it always devolves into him assuring her he did not mean it as he fucks her into the mattress, healing every spiteful barb with impassioned touches.

Shortly after King Viserys dies, Aegon is crowned, and everything changes for the worse. His succession is challenged by Viserys’ eldest child, Rhaenyra, and steps must be put into place to secure Aegon’s reign. Aemond is a useful pawn in that process, and his grandsire, Otto, wastes no time in arranging a visit for him to Storm’s End in order to choose which of Lord Borros Baratheon’s daughters he wishes to marry.

Aemond is so matter of fact as he explains this to her, but she feels as though she reacts enough for both of them, struggling to breath as a free falling sensation in the pit of her stomach sends waves of nausea rippling through her.

She knows she is fighting a losing battle before she even opens her mouth to speak, yet she cannot help herself. She is a moth and Aemond is her flame, ever bright and eternal, the very center around which her entire world revolves. Nothing has ever seemed so final though, what pieces will there be to pick up and place back together once he is someone else’s husband?

Standing before him, she juts out her chin defiantly, willing herself not to cry in spite of the lump in her throat and the insistent stinging around the rims of her eyes. “You’re really going to go through with this?”

He sets his jaw, sighing, a visible dismissal of her feelings that makes her ache and wish she had the courage to simply walk away from him. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

“What will become of me, of us?” She asks, her voice raising an octave, threatening to crack.

“That is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. My brother’s succession takes precedence over everything. Marrying one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters helps strengthen his claim to the throne. Listening to your heedless fretting does not.”

She feels heat rise to her cheeks, swallowing back her anguish, attempting to sound fiercer than she feels. “Perhaps I shall decide to marry too then.”

Aemond’s scoff is so subtle it’s almost imperceptible. “Who would marry you? Your virtue is mine, always has been. You’re fortunate I still desire you.”

His tone of voice is so practical, only the slightest hint of irritation giving it an edge. He may as well be addressing a chambermaid who has not made his bed to his liking. She longs to grab him, shake him, beg him to give her any sort of indication that this is hurting him as much as it’s hurting her, because to think that he’d let her go so easily, after all these years, is more than she can stand.

Instead she says nothing, simply watches as he turns to leave, counting down the moments until he returns to her, his words sweet once more and eager to heal the rift between them, just like he always does. She craves the storm and the calm in equal measure, but they are always on Aemond’s terms, never hers.

Three nights later she awakens to him standing at the foot of her bed, dripping wet, eye filled with fear. She takes him into the sheets, fingers carding through his damp hair as he ruts his misery inside of her.

“It was an accident,” He whispers to her tearfully afterwards. “I only meant to scare Lucerys.”

She soothes him to sleep, knowing she ought to feel repulsed by what Aemond has done, but is overwhelmed by the relief of him being just hers once more.

Confusion addles her thoughts the next day when she overhears Aemond tell Otto that he had meant to kill his nephew.

When she asks him about it in private he grips the tops of her arms with such force that she yelps from the pain of it, his face almost murderous with rage as he stares at her. “If you ever utter those words again, I will have your tongue cut out.”

Aemond’s temper has always been fierce, a trait of his that she is forever wary of, however, until now she has never felt afraid of him. At this very moment, Aemond frightens her. He has the capacity to cause her harm, and does not seem to care if he does.

Later he presses featherlight kisses to each of the vivid purple bruises that mark her upper arms. Though he appears remorseful, he does not offer an apology or even an utterance of “I did not mean it.”

“You must not anger me like that again,” He tells her instead.

She simply nods, dread boring a void into the pit of her stomach.

As the war escalates, resulting in the death of Aegon and Helaena’s son, Jaehaerys, and the grievous injury of Aegon, Aemond takes up the mantle of Prince Regent. While Aemond bears the burden of the additional responsibility, she bears the onslaught of his frustrations, becoming a vessel into which he pours his every grievance. The adoration he showers her with after each display of cruelty becomes infrequent to the point that she feels as though she is a hound begging for scraps. Eventually she learns to accept his ire, reasoning he would simply cast her aside and ignore her if he did not care for her.

She is delighted when Aemond insists upon bringing her along to his march upon Harrenhal. She allows herself to believe that his desire to have her at his side is because he is committed to her, that perhaps this means he intends to marry her once the war is over. A voice in the back of her mind reasons it is most likely because he enjoys the control he asserts over her, but she does her best to ignore it.

Jealousy swirls sharply in her gut when she sees the only person that Aemond has spared in his seizing of the castle - a witch named Alys Rivers, a raven haired beauty who he informs her will be of great use to him in helping him to defeat his Uncle Daemon. She swallows down her doubts, attempting to reassure herself that she has nothing to worry about, Aemond has never strayed from her before, why would he now?

She curses herself for ignoring her suspicions when she catches him between the witch’s thighs. She expects herself to grieve, to scream, to cry, to shatter to pieces at his infidelity, but instead a sense of clarity washes over her. For the first time in a decade she wishes to leave Aemond.

No longer does she crave his approval, or long to make amends, a veil has been lifted and finally she sees him for the selfish, spoiled and callous hearted man he truly is. He will never love her, not as she deserves, and she is making a fool of herself to stay by his side while he is openly disrespectful of her and her feelings.

His eye darkens with familiar ill intent when she informs him of her plan to return home.

“Do not be so foolish,” He says condescendingly. “You are behaving irrationally over a minor indiscretion.”

She shakes her head. “I believe this is the first time since I’ve known you that I’ve behaved with any sense at all. I am leaving.”

“Ñuhon iksā,” He tells her. His tone carries none of the soft, loving intent it usually does when he utters this statement, now it is dark and threatening. You are mine.

“Dōre iksan,” She replies simply. I am not.

“You cannot exist without me,” He says with a scowl.

“Watch me,” She counters.

It is not until a few days later, once she has returned home to her family, that the full weight of Aemond’s words begin to sink in. As the wings of Vhagar darken the skies above the Riverlands, she realises that he does not mean he thinks she can’t exist without him, it is that he will not allow her to.

She watches in tense horror as the fiery blaze engulfs her homeland, acrid smoke drawing ever nearer as Aemond’s dragon immolates houses, farmland and forests alike. If he were a better man he’d simply have let her go. Unfortunately for her, nothing in a dragon’s clutches escapes without getting burned.

[bluebellhairpin]

Harwin Strong X f!Reader

Summary: Years have passed since your wedding to Harwin, and now it's Rhaenyra's turn to be wed. With her happiness at the forefront of your mind, you soon make a deal with your husband.

Warnings: Pregnancy. Blood + gore. Reader is fem bodied + called wife/mother/sister + wears a dress. Infidelity/cheating but not really bc it's all consensual. (We're moving slowly into a sort-of polycule.)

Listening to: 'The Green Dress' by Ramin Djawadi

Series Masterlist || AO3 Link || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

A lot had happened in the years since you married Harwin Strong. 

To the realms, a war raged on in the Stepsons, one Lord Corlys was trying to fight, and one that Daemon Targaryen had done his best to help win. Viserys had three new children, two sons, Aegon II and Aemond, and a sweet daughter, Helaena. 

To you though, the most important thing had been your husband. 

As the days after your wedding night turned into weeks, he urged you to open up more. He wasn’t just handsome and brave and brutal enough to gain the nickname ‘Breakbones’, but he was kind. 

He drew you away from your beloved books and needlework - the hobbies acceptable for a woman in King’s Landing - even though, you found, he loved having you read to him, or sit next to you by the fire and keep you company as you avoided pricking your fingers. 

He took you on walks where he had the time, so you could talk, and where he couldn’t he urged you instead to watch him train - you had to admit to him how hot and bothered it made you, to see him so confident with a sword, and being so strong of an opponent against his assigned enemy, or enemies. He only teased you when you told him - something he did often just to see you flustered - and insisted you come watch him more often. 

You came to love him dearly, and how he adored you in return. His Lady Wife - and as the weeks turned into years - the mother of his children. 

Prior to telling him you were with child, Harwin spent far too much of his spare time by your side, but it seemed like he spent all of it with you when you were pregnant. Even when you thought he was away working, Harwin always seemed to be just where you needed him, as if waiting around every corner for the moment you sent for him. As the days passed on, oh how you needed him. When he was around no one else came to your aid faster when your nausea got the better of you - and he never once shied away from it - nor was he shy to demand the quick gathering of your food cravings, which too often consisted of heavily salted potatoes and clay dirt.

You could see in his eyes that he saw no sense in it, but whatever you wanted, you got. You almost could bet he’d get the blood of a Lannister for you if you told him that was what you craved as a drink. 

But what touched you the most was the evenings you spent together. What used to be a time reserved for just the both of you felt as if there were now three. When an unmistakable new bump began to form, Harwin spent his evenings laid face down between your legs, cradling your torso between his warm palms, and talking to your tummy about anything and everything. From childhood stories to how his day went, no subject went untouched when he was trying to speak to your baby. 

He called it a privilege to care for you while you solely cared for your baby, a baby who was now in the world wholly, and had just passed his second name day. 

Your son kept you busy, and Harwin adored him. He’d hoped for a daughter, more often than not speaking to your belly as if a girl laid there, but your boy wasn’t any less loved for it. He was doted on more by Harwin than any other father and son you knew. Nor was he any less needed - from his first breath he was Larys Strong, second to his name and newest heir in line to inherit Harrenhal. 

But Harwin’s heart was set on a daughter. You barely had to tell Harwin the Maester’s said your body was properly recovered before he enthusiastically offered to try for another. You simply replied that the time spent with one child was to be cherished - and you planned to do just that. You were thankful when Harwin replied again in turn with kindness, saying he hadn’t considered it but understood what you meant. He said he’d wait until you were ready, and in the meantime threw himself headfirst into being little Larys’ father. 

It made your heart melt completely - and now it was going to happen all over again. Even if the news of another babe wasn’t enough to usurp an upcoming wedding, Harwin certainly acted like it was. The news couldn’t have spread across the Red Keep faster even if crows and rats carried the message to every nook and cranny - your husband wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret if he tried. 

But right now, at the forefront of everything in your mind, wasn’t the second child being carried within your womb - it was your Princess, Rhaenyra Targaryen, and the fact that the wedding to be held within the next few days was going to be hers. 

The princess had taken it upon herself to visit you daily, whenever she could spare the time, and you were grateful - you believed she needed a distraction, and she was one of the few women around your age in the whole city who you could stand (the other being Alicent, however you weren’t going to be telling either about your friendship with the other). She was also a good distraction to you from the coming and going sickness the child brought with it. 

“His little girl.” You said to Rhaenyra. “He’s so sure it’s going to be a daughter.” 

“If I remember correctly, he thought that last time too.” Rhaenyra said, “And what do you think?” She asked, leaning forward on an elbow with a childlike sparkle in her eyes. She was fond of children, or so you assumed from how she was around your son - and her half-siblings too when she got the rare chance. 

“I think it’s far too soon to tell.” you replied, a small smile on your face as you grasp your hand over your stomach. 

“Oh wouldn’t it be amusing though, the great ‘breakbones’ running around after a daughter.” She said, talking into a raised glass of wine. 

“There is a certain humor to it, sure.” You both caught eyes and smiled as she put down the cup she was drinking from. 

“You will still come to the dinner, won't you?” Rhaenyra asked, changing the subject skillfully, as her look changed from sly to hopeful. “I know we won’t get much time together, and I know how tired you get at the moment, but I just have to know I’ll see your face in the crowd.” Your lips twitched up, amused. 

“Is the heir to the iron throne asking me personally to go to her wedding feast?” 

“It will be good for strengthening ties.” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. 

“Going to a wedding feast?” 

“Indeed.” 

“Ah sorry Princess, but the only ties being strengthened there are those of both families getting married. However, my experience says a joyous party and a hearty meal is good for morale all around.” A new voice joined in at the open door. 

“Ser Harwin.” Rhaenyra said, turning in her seat with a smile to greet your husband. 

“And please be sure to provide peanuts,” Harwin continued as he dipped his head to the Princess and made his way to your side, “They seem to be the only thing this little one is letting her mother keep down.” 

“Harwin!” you hissed. 

“Shells and all, she likes how it crunches.” You smacked his arm - or the parts of it that weren’t still covered in metal armor - and he let out a half chuckle. “Alright, alright. I was only coming in to check you weren’t lonely, and it seems like the Princess is doing a fine job of that.” 

“Of course I am. I do a good job of everything.” 

“Indeed.” Harwin agreed, then turned to you. He kissed your forehead and cheek before pressing his thumb to your chin. “I’d better be on, I’ll be back soon to prepare for dinner.” He kissed your hand, a final farewell, before doing the same to Rhaenyra. “Princess.” He said. 

You saw how their eyes caught, and something about it sparked a thought inside you. The thought that there was a slight lingering of something going on between them both. You were not sure what. For some reason the fluttering in your heart had you breaking into a calm smile more than an anxious sweat. Some part of it was reassuring - even if any other woman might’ve thought otherwise. Perhaps it was how much you trusted Harwin, perhaps how much you liked Rhaenyra. 

You weren’t unfamiliar with the rumors behind a hasty wedding to her cousin Laenor (nor the rumors behind Laenor himself). You also weren’t unfamiliar with how stifling living in your fathers home could be - and he was a lord, let alone a king. You didn’t blame either of them for acting the way they did, to take bits of freedom when it wasn’t being given to them. You pitied Laenor, but Rhaenyra? If anyone asked you honestly, you’d day you mourned for her.

Rhaenyra and Laenor’s wedding feast, at the very least, was eventful. Far more so than your own - and for that you weren’t entirely envious. 

You arrived, paid your dues to the royal family along with those of House Strong who came - Harwin and his father and brother, along with his sisters, Pacey and Raechel, and a few more distant relations - and were seated - all without problems. Laenor and his family arrived, and were seated alongside Rhaenyra and Viserys - again, without problems. King Viserys began his speech without a hitch - however it didn’t finish in the same way. 

The moment you saw his eyes and voice catch and pause, you were searching for a reason why. When your eyes cast to the doors, you could see the reason clearly yourself. 

In another life, one where you were still young and foolish, all you would’ve seen would be Queen Alicent in a pretty green dress. But now being seasoned in Red Keep socialites and dramatics, you weren’t so young and foolish to not realize what it meant. 

“The king won’t be happy, right in the middle of his speech.” Harwin murmured, a hand resting on the one you had in the crook on his arm. Larys stood on his other side, leaning down on the table. House Strong prided itself on its courage, but there was something about the cunning the younger Strong brother had that you admired - it was one of the reasons why you agreed to Harwin naming your son after him, the thought that a smart mind might be passed down through name alone. Time would tell if that was the right choice or not. 

“The beacon on the high tower, do you know what color it glows when Oldtown calls its banners to war?” he asked quietly. 

“Green?” you whispered. When your eyes flickered off Alicent to Larys, he nodded - even if you weren’t so sure before you were now. Harwin’s hand squeezed your fingers, and as Alicent sat at the table ahead everything settled. Calm, normal once again. Tension raised off the air like a mist in Blackwater Bay. 

Until later. 

The feast had really begun, the dancing started, and as everyone got to the celebrations, you were beginning to feel sick. Not enough to warrant telling Harwin (he’d have you both leave in a heartbeat, you didn’t doubt that for a second), but enough that there was no way you were getting up to dance. 

“Harwin,” you said, and he leant in from where he had his arm around the back of your chair, ready to ask what was wrong, “Go get a dance with the Princess, congratulate her for us.” You finished with a pat to his chest, a dismissal and ‘get to it’ if there ever was one. He didn’t need further pushing. Some might chastise him for being so obedient to his wife, but you know he’d only say they were jealous. 

With Harwin gone, and the other seat beside you also unoccupied since Harwin’s sister, Raechel, had gone off to dance with a pretty young Lord, you slid over to occupy the seat beside Larys. 

“How are you feeling this evening, sister?” He asked, observant, and voice soft as ever despite the noise of the crowded room. 

“In all truth my stomach feels like it’s in knots.” you replied, sighing through a smile, “But I dare not leave. I do like being around everyone when they’re having such fun.” 

“I could walk you to your room, if you’d like?” he offered, and it made your smile widen. 

“No, please. There’s no need for that.” you replied, head turning so your eyes could filter about the room, “It’s not a sickly kind of knot. For some reason I’m feeling quite nervous. Besides, I can see how you enjoy people watching the same as I do, I wouldn’t want to take you away from it.” 

“Ah,” he said, hand playing with a cloth napkin on the table, “I see I haven’t been as careful about what I do in my spare time as I should’ve been.” 

“You know there’s nothing wrong with being able to see everything.” you said, turning to him with a wide smile, “Just make sure you don’t go around telling everyone what you see. Or worse, the wrong people.” His hand clenched around the cloth, before releasing. He smiled. 

“Clever as ever, my sister. Spoken with the wisdom of a mother.” 

Larys barely finished speaking when your attention was taken away. A shout, unlike others tonight, followed by more, along with a visible disruption to the dancing. Something was going on. It made the knots in your stomach tighten, the hair on your arms stand on end. Suddenly the air didn’t feel as clear as it did moments before. 

Between the influx of people moving away, and those moving in, you lost sight of the Princess and your husband - the latter of which was by then dancing with someone else. When you stood from your seat and finally caught sight of him in the crowd, his look told you to stay back out of trouble, to say your side of the dinner table. You stayed carefully watching him though, saw him hold a silent conversation with his father, then watched as he moved. With Rhaenyra nowhere in sight, and direction from the new Hand of the King, you didn’t doubt you knew what he was doing. 

It was nice to know that both you and your father-in-law had the belief that Harwin could rescue a Princess from a crowd of frightened and rowdy party-goers. 

If anything the prowess Harwin had in retrieving Rhaenyra filled you with an impressed sense of pride - ‘that was the man you married’. Before he was your husband, he was a knight, and honestly if you were a man like him you would’ve wanted to do the exact same thing in helping Rhaenyra. If not you, at least it was him. Hence you paid it no mind when he disappeared from the room with her over his shoulder. 

Once he was gone though, Rhaenyra safely out of trouble, your attention was drawn to something far less pleasing. 

On the floor beyond the table was a man. He wore house Velaryon’s colors, and had half his face beaten into the stone floor. The carnage of bone and muscle, and the blood seeping into the stone below was enough to make your usually strong stomach churn. It was as if half of him had melted into the floor. One of your hands moved over your bump, while the other held your fingertips over your lips - both in an effort to ease the nausea growing in your throat, in hopes to not throw up everywhere. 

“Larys, I believe I can take you up on a nice slow walk back to my room now.” You whispered. He heard you, because of course he already could see how visibly sick you looked now, and quickly reached for his cane. 

“Of course.” he said, letting you rest a hand on his arm as you both turned away to join those leaving. He only spoke again after you reached the quieter halls of the Keep. “Will you be alright?” 

“I believe so, it’s just been quite a day.” you said, looking down at your skirts as they slowly swished across your legs as you walked. It was a simple thing really, the way it moved, but as far as a distraction went it was as good as any. “I’ve seen worse things in my life and yet I’ve found myself quite shaken. It seems that as the babe grows in size, my strength leaves me, both physically and emotionally.” 

“As long as you both end up healthy in the end, it doesn’t matter so much how you feel now.” he said after a few steps. You nodded as you swayed a little. “Your constitution will return.”

“I suppose so.” you agreed, “Though still it would be nice if it weren’t so much trouble right now.” 

“All paths in life have troubles sister, whether you chose to be a mother or silent sister. We just need to make sure paths we have no control over do not become too much trouble.” Larys said as you both slowed as your room door approached. “And if they do, surround ourselves with people to help keep them in line.” 

“I’d be happy enough just to have someone help walk the path with me.” 

As you both said goodnight, his words stuck with you. You always found his words needed to be thought about more than most - apparently his half sister Alys was quite the same, worse even, although you’d yet to meet her yourself. 

Suni came to your room briefly to help you get ready for bed, but conversation didn’t come to you that night. No doubt word spread about what happened at dinner, she’d have known you’d seen it surely, and you hoped that was a good enough excuse to not be in the mood to talk. 

She had gone, you’d tucked yourself into bed, and a few bare candles were all that was left alight when Harwin finally joined you in your bedchambers. He was quiet too as he got ready for bed, only sparing glances at you as you watched him through the dark. Only after he was under the covers and sat back against the headboard beside you did he speak. 

“The Princess and Laenor have been wed.” he said. His words, spoken like a hushed whisper, had you sitting bolt upright from where you once laid. 

“What?” 

“King Viserys ordered they be married immediately.” Harwin said, taking your hand as if to coax you back, but you didn’t move. “I cannot admit to understanding why.” 

“Why? I can tell you why,” you said, whispering loudly into the dark, “The rumors around Rhaenyra, and then what has happened tonight are founded on acts of love. Love that is seen as improper, misbehavior. To reign it all in and prevent more reputational damages, both the Princess and her now husband have had to be placed into boxes.” 

You huffed, shuffling back into a place at Harwin’s side under his waiting arm. You reached to the hand that laid across your shoulder and toyed with his fingers, venting your frustration with fidgeting, then he spoke. 

“More like coffins.” Harwin mumbled into your hair. “Can’t help but feel sorry for them. For loving who they wish, in return they get paid a place in the world where neither will find real love.” 

Harwin’s words made you frown. It wasn’t fair - you knew life rarely was. But if the Old and New God’s were kind enough to give you a husband like Harwin, why would they deny Rhaenyra that happiness too? Deny her the chance to be loved? It wasn’t right. It was cruel. Both to her and Laenor. They would struggle through their marriage - Laenor likely finding love elsewhere, and where would that leave Rhaenyra? Alone, and loveless. You wished you could help her. You wished you knew someone who could help her. 

Then, like a flash of lightning, you had what could very well be the worst idea of your entire life. 

“What’s wrong? I can feel you thinking.” Harwin said, “Stressing even. Stress is no good for the daughter you’re guarding.” He shifted beneath you, leaning more on his elbow as his other palm came to rest on your stomach. 

“How sorry do you feel for them?” you asked suddenly. Through the darkness you could see his brows frown. 

“What do you mean?” 

“If you could help them, would you?” you repeated, softer, almost as if you weren’t speaking at all. His eyes studied your face carefully, as if trying to read the lines on your face to gauge what you were leaving unsaid. 

“Rhaenyra is the Princess.” Harwin started, “A dear friend of yours too, which makes her mine - I have to admit to still feeling like I have a duty to the vow I took when entering knighthood. That I must do all in my power to keep her happy, even if now her happiness is second to yours.” 

His words trailed off into silence, for a moment all you could hear was your breathing and the fire crackle in its hearth across the room. You decided then at the very least to be honest with Harwin - to voice your idea, as mad as it sounded. 

“I need to be honest with you, just for a moment, while it’s just us here alone together. Free of judgement.” you said. Harwin’s reply was virtually instant. 

“Of course.” 

“Do you love me?” His reply to that came even faster than the first. 

“I love you.” Harwin said, holding your head in his hands, almost sounding worried. “More than anything.” 

“If I asked you to lie with her to keep her happy, would you do it?” you asked. Then the silence was loud. A pin could drop outside in the hall and you could’ve heard it. “As a favor.” Even with your addition, Harwin stayed quiet. If you didn’t know him better, you’d say he was too quiet. 

But you knew him better than that. Harwin, despite his reputation as the more brutal of him and his brother, was a good thinker. Yes he acted in the heat of the moment on occasion, sometimes for the worst, but when given the chance? If his blood wasn’t pushed to pumping? Level headed, considerate, and wise - that was what you’d come to know Harwin Strong as. It's what made him such a good father. 

You could see it in his eyes, him thinking. Weighing the options, listing pros and cons. Considering that this wasn’t simply being asked to whore himself out to Rhaenyra for the sake of it - this was you requesting him to do a favor for your friend. 

“In another life, perhaps I might’ve done so anyway.” Harwin finally mused. His hands still held your head, and he never once broke away from looking at you. He was so intense sometimes, now was no exception. He was speaking of Rhaenyra, but it was like he wasn’t even thinking of her at all. “But in this life, it will be as a favor to you. Nothing more.” 

tagging: @potionpeddlerpatchy | @pockcock

[greenaswildfire]

I get the feeling they decided to nerf Alicent and Helaena on purpose, so they could taunt part of the audience who likes the "more womanly" type of character.

Something like "oh, are you tired of girlboss characters like Rhaenyra? there you have it, your fragile woman kind of character you like so much!" and then turned them into two bland pacifists instead of soft power players they were in F&B.

There is a quote I see frequently on social media but have no idea who said it:

You can’t truly call yourself peaceful unless you’re capable of great violence. If you’re not capable of violence, you’re not peaceful, you’re harmless. Important difference.

Alicent and Helaena were peaceful in F&B. Helaena transitions to harmless after B&C, but she had a reason for it.

In HotD? Both are turned to harmless women. Helaena refuses to fight because prophecy, refuses to burn innocents by sacrificing her life and her Jaehaera's, c'mon girl, you're also innocent in all this! It's absolutely stupid to imagine that Rhaenyra would let them live, mainly because by Rhaenyra's precedent as queen, any House could back Helaena and Jaehaera's claim the moment Rhaenyra refused to bend to said House whims.

She would never let them live, she could never. And even if Rhaenyra refuses to do anything, certainly Daemon would in her stead. He's kinslaying on behalf of the queen who also happens to be his wife so he gets a pass, right? RIGHT?

I get the feeling they wanted to trap us in this "muahauha see? see? You say you hate girbosses but look at you now, you want show!Helaena, a Sansa-like character to act like a girlboss, hypocrites! Muahau we got you, traitorous women who dare to defend the patriarchy by liking non-girlboss characters!" situation.

But they forget one important thing: Alicent was bold and politically savy in S1, she was butchered because of their rhaenicent thirst and I don't doubt they build up S3 around the mandatory rhaenicent scene (this time it will be a s3x scene in the cell, after Rhaenyra imprisons Alicent for her "treason" since Aegon is no longer in KL). Alicent was a strong female character in her own right, until she wasn't.

And Helaena is just a background character tbh, writers knew they couldn't make her disband to TB side so they made her a Bran 2.0 who poses no threat to TB, but doesn't help TG either. If any female character can't be part of TB, they'll turn her into a third party so they won't pose a threat to "rightful kween". The only time she was treated as equal was by Aemond when he asks her to help protect the family and she refuses.

C'mon, she's neurodivergent but she's clearly capable of thinking that if she refuses to fight, everybody will die way quicker than if she accepts to. She's not stupid (I mean, at least until plot demands it, so her inaction-caused-by-her-visions can benefit cult leader kween's path to apocaliptic prophecy). She could clearly say something like "I will. but I won't fight because you asked me to, I'll fight for my daughter's life, I'll fight for mine." and I'm sure that Aemond would be hurt anyway, but would hide it because he's also determined to protect her.

She wants to live, so does he, and he'll somehow make up for Jaehaerys death by protecting Helaena. Helaena instead of doing the same like the other dreamers (choosing humanity's salvation over anything else) subverts expectations and says f u prophecy, and decides to fight against the prophecy instead of fulfilling it, so she and her daughter can have a chance to live. It would be such a contrast to cult leader, they make parallels in hotd all the time, why couldn't they do the same here with Helaena's plot?

Have you ever played Umineko no Naku koro ni? One of the most important aspects of the game imo it's exactly this "fight against your destiny" thing. How much do you value your life and others's? What are you willing to sacrifice for a slim chance to live and see them again? When your destiny is the same in most universes, should you give up and die instead of keep looking for one where your destiny is different? They could have done the same with Helaena here. Cole for example, he knows that probably he won't make it out alive of this war and yet he fights! Why can't a woman do the same? Fighting against destiny is something that only men do? Or are you telling me that Cole is stupid for not giving up, for relying on this slim hope he has of seeing Alicent again, of living with her and the remaining targtower children after the war?

But again, it's a web weaved by the writers, we can't ask Helaena to fight because she isn't girlboss in hotd. I should despise Alicent, I should despise Helaena, but I won't. If I do, it will only confirm the approach they've taken with these characters and I refuse to be caught on these showrunners's web.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Alpha!Aemond Targaryen Meeting His Omega

~Everyone was so thrilled when he presented at 16 as an Alpha, the Targaryen's all being Betas for many years

•He was the first to be an Alpha in many years and his father was thrilled most of all, Viserys immediately throwing him a party a week later, complete with a huge feast and everyone in the realm that could make it

•Aemond was not at all happy that his elder sister had come with her family but Viserys insisted and they all congratulated him and he could hear from where he sat Rhaenyra warning Luke to stay as far away from his uncle as possible, that he would be even more volatile now and she was correct, his hate for the Strong boys burned hotter than ever

•Every Omega from every kingdom was brought with the important houses, and not just family members but Omega servants as well, Alphas could not be married off politically very often as there was no way they could be with anyone but their mates

•Aemond had often made comments about how he would do his duty, marry who he was told to and strengthen their family but now he couldn't imagine such a thing, his Omega was what he wanted and he would settle for nothing less, no matter what his Hightower grandfather thought about it, and for once his mother seemed to be on his side

~His father was happy of course but so was his mother, who looked forward to seeing her son happy, especially after seeing him in such pain for so long, hiding himself from the women in court after what Lucerys had done to his eye.  Most women couldn't stomach looking at it but Alicent was comforted by knowing Aemond's Omega would see no disability like everyone else did

•Aemond however was still concerned about it, before he had healed and could wear the eye patch the women that had seen his wound had been horrified, some even becoming physically ill

•He knew he would wear the eye patch every moment of every day if he had to for his mate, even if he had to sleep with it on to comfort her, he would never see her look at him like that

•He hated the idea that he was supposed to try and find his Omega here though, what are the odds his mate just so happens to be here tonight?  He thought it was ridiculous and would much rather be outside the castle, searching for her outside the Red Keep however he was proven wrong fairly quickly once everyone arrived

~Her scent was like nothing he had ever imagined as he sat at the head table people watching

•He wasn't mingling, still getting used to the truly insane sense of smell he now had and controlling it as it was in overdrive surrounded by all these people, his brother Aegon being one of the ones that bothered him most, heavy wine, sadness and whores.  Aemond wasn't sure how he could smell either sadness or what a whore smelled of but he did and he hated it from the moment Aegon arrived once he'd presented

•The smell overcame him a moment after the Stark family was announced in the hall, Cregan Stark and his family arriving along with their Omega servants, every family only having one, maybe 2.  Honeysuckle, mint and a sweetness he couldn't quite place and suddenly he was rock hard and completely alert

•His mother seemed to notice his change in demeanor as he straightened up, looking at where the Starks had walked to, standing from his seat and stepping around the table

•Aemond paid attention to no one's words or congratulations as he took steps towards that heavenly scent, becoming agitated instantly as people kept moving, that is until someone whistled, so loud almost every Omega groaned, their sensitive ears probably ringing worse than Aemond's

•"It seems as if my brother has caught the scent of something delicious!"  Aegon cackled, drunk as hell but for the first time maybe ever, Aemond didn't mind as he had frozen the room, even if everyone now stared as he moved towards the doors, seeing the head of the Stark family and looking at the faces around him. 

"My Lord Stark, present your Omegas to the Prince, if you would please?"  This time it was his mother who spoke and everyone shuffled back from the family, watching closely as Cregan Stark pulled a boy and a girl along.  Aemond recognized the girl as the Stark's niece but the other was very clearly a servant, although as they met his eyes he felt nothing.  Stark was looking around to his wife as if searching for something and that's when Aemond smelled it, the scent was fading, no longer in the room with them and faster than anyone would have deemed humanly possible, the one-eyed Prince was sprinting from the room after that delicious smell

~Aemond had heard of Omegas running when they smelled their Alphas, some said it was because they wanted their Alpha to chase and catch them and show he was a strong mate, he knew better however

•Aemond didn't need his Omega to tell him, he knew she was afraid.  She had probably come here with a promise from House Stark that it could never be her, what were the odds that out of the dozens of Omegas here that it was her, and now here she is with everyone searching the room for her while her Alpha stalked closer as if a dragon on a hunt, his Omega was probably terrified

•He turned down a corridor and moved quicker as the scent became stronger, knowing he was practically on top of her as he opened the door to the kitchens.  He didn't make a sound as he stepped in, seeing her filling a teapot with water, her face scrunched up adorably in frustration.  "Dōna mirre?"  She gasped, dropping the pot and whimpering which sent a tingle down his spine straight to his cock.  "No need to be afraid, I won't harm you...I know what I look like but you have nothing to fear from me, never you."  He swore.  He couldn't quite read her face in that moment but she wasn't running, he thought that a good sign.  "May I know my Omega's name?"

She paused before responding but not too long. “Y/n...my name is Y/n my Prince-"

"No need for such formalities, not between us...I am aware of what you must have heard about me but please? I ask that you give me the chance to prove that it is all untrue...at least most of it." She giggled at that and he decided right then that it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

"I will not judge you on the words of others, that wouldn't be fair...if you promise me the same...I can only imagine what people are saying about me, the prince mated to a servant wench from the North, I-"

"Don't you ever say such a thing about my Omega again!" He demanded, walking closer and stopping himself before he touched her, looking down from his 6'2 stature and noticing she couldn't be taller than 5'4. "You, Dōna mirre, will be a Targaryen by weeks end and anyone who would ever say such things will have their tongues removed." He instantly expected fear as he realized he shouldn't have gone so far while trying to make her feel safe but once more she giggled and he knew he was going to have to survive dinner with a raging erection. "Do you think we could go back to the feast? Guards will be sent to find us if they haven't already-"

"Lest you steal my virtue on the kitchen floor?" She was teasing him and he loved it, smiling for the first time in a long while.

"I wouldn't do you the dishonor of even bringing it into question. Come, I'll have someone bring you tea." She smiled up at him, taking hold of his offered arm and walking back.

~Aemond escorted her back and when guards opened the doors everyone's eyes turned to them as they now all sat down to dinner

•His Omega clutched tighter to his arm as she felt the stares and he pulled her closer to his side as he guided her to the head table and around it to sit down themselves

•"My son!" His father waved them over and he kissed her hand.

"My father wishes to meet you, just breathe, it will be quick, I promise...my mother less so." She pinched his side as he teased her making him squirm before guiding her to the king. "Father. This is Y/n, my Omega. Y/n, this is my father."

"My king. It's an honor to meet you sir." As his sweetling went to bow he held his arms out, pulling her close and hugging the small girl. Had it been anyone else but his father he would have broken his hands at this moment but the growl that built up from his throat was uncontrollable leading everyone in close proximity, his mother, siblings, Daemon and nephews to look at him stunned though his father just laughed so hard he was thrown into a coughing fit. "You should sit my king." His Omega reached for his glass and held it up for him to drink making the sickly man smile and do as she requested, sitting with her assistance and taking a drink.

"A true, sweet Omega you are my dear. No more of this 'my king' nonsense, you are family now. 'Father' will do just fine, daughter in law." He held her face in his hands and everyone that looked on could see how happy Viserys truly was.

"I do not wish to offend my king, I-" he looked up at her, eyebrows raised and she quickly corrected herself. "Father...thank you for your kindness. Please don't let me interrupt your meal, I'm sure we will have plenty of time to know each other."

"Yes. Of course we will." As he turned back to the feast Aemond took her arm again, pulling her close though she was snatched by his mother who turned the Omega to look at her.

"You are just lovely my dear. Exactly what I pictured for you my sweet boy. You and I will get together tomorrow Y/n, we must start planning the wedding-"

"Mother!"

"What? Would you like to wait a few moons for your wedding my son? Or would you like to get on with it quickly? If so, it must be discussed, we'll need time to get everything in order." She looked at Aemond expectantly, knowing her son wouldn't want to wait long for the event and also knowing that if Y/n's heat hit her before the wedding no one would be able to keep her son from his Omega, better to get it done now, the Prince understanding her meaning instantly.

"I don't need much your grace, it can be small. Just family and a septon, it doesn't-" his Omega stopped when she once again saw the whole family staring making Aemond growl on purpose this time. "Or it could be large, why not?"

Aemond spun her around to face him and turned her face up, thumbs brushing her embarrassed red cheeks. "Whatever it is, as long as I'm with you it will be perfect my Dōna mirre." Rhaenyra, Helaena and Alicent all let out a small 'aww' at his display and it only made the Omega blush worse.

"What does that mean?"  She finally asked him as he sat her in a chair by his side, the opposite side Aegon was on.

"Sweetling.  My sweet little mate, too sweet for someone like me."  She took hold of his hand and pulled it close to her chest, holding onto him tightly.

"That's the second time you've put yourself down my mate and I will not have it.  You are wonderful!"

"You are too kind my darling but you see the same face every other person does and it's appalling, I'm not-"  The next thing Aemond knew his Omega had slapped him right across his cheek, head turning with the motion, not out of pain but more shock.

"I will not sit here and listen to this!"  The slap had alerted the looks of several people, his mother now looked on as well as Rhaenyra and Daemon, and his siblings though it didn't stop her as she grabbed his face, whispering too lowly for them to hear but Aemond absolutely heard it, every word.  "You are lovely!  You are a strong, handsome Prince, a dragon rider that sits atop the largest dragon alive!  Your lost eye is unfortunate and unfair, yes, and your nephew should pay for what he did but whatever disability you think it causes, you are wrong.  From what I understand my Alpha is the most skilled swordsman in Kings Landing, men fear you, and women, real women know how attractive you are."  Y/n turned his face towards her but moved her hand so no one else would be able to look upon his scar as she turned the eyepatch up to reveal a beautiful sapphire to her view.  "These ladies in court, they have their sensitivities, they faint at the sight of blood, flinch away from violence but a real women knows that scars on a man are arousing."  Aemond was stunned by this, she was right though, the only women who had ever seen it had been his family and a few ladies at these kinds of parties.  His mother had been right, his Omega wasn't disgusted by him in the slightest.

"I had thought I would need to wear this even in my sleep to avoid scaring you...I-"

"You will do no such thing, I would look upon my Alphas face every chance I get!"  She wasn't whispering anymore and he could see from the side even his nephews now looked at them.  "You are handsome and anyone who says otherwise will have words with me."  He saw her turn her head towards Aegon, looking also at Jace and Luke before Aemond turned her head back.  "My Alpha."  She whispered, leaning closer and rubbing her nose against his and he found it adorable.  "It is a lovely face you have...and after our wedding, it is a face...I would happily ride." 

And just like that his cock was practically screaming for attention again as he pictured his gorgeous Omega riding his face.  Unable to take in air as her pussy suffocated him in the most glorious way, her juices covering his mouth as he shoved his tongue as deep as her quivering cunt would allow, arms wrapped around her thighs and holding her down on him as she writhed like crazy and he could only imagine what noises she would make as he-

"Alpha?"

"Hmm?"

"You're imagining it, aren't you?"  He nodded his head, not having it in him to look sorry as she smirked, leaning close and pressing her lips to the scar under his sapphire eye. "Good. I'll be imagining it tonight...Alpha." Aemond growled as she set his eye patch back, calling him 'Alpha' had been doing things to him and she was lucky he hadn't carried her off already. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers roughly, pulling away as she whimpered, grasping onto whatever semblance of control he had left.

If this is what he already feels for her, he doubts he'll make it to the wedding.

Dōna Mirre-Sweetling

It actually means 'Sweet Thing' but there's no translation for the name I wanted so that's the closest I can get and I'm going with it.

Aemond T. Masterlist

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

The Stag and the Dragon

pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Female OC

summary: Aegon has to marry a Baratheon girl, what was so attractive about her?

Word count: 3,9K

Warnings: Smut, Cunnilingus, Slight dirty talk, mean Aegon at first

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

In the dimly lit chamber of the Red Keep, the king's small council gathered, their faces illuminated by the flickering candles that lined the table. King Viserys I Targaryen sat at the head of the table, his expression grave as he surveyed his most trusted advisors. Among them were Queen Alicent, his daughters Rhaenyra, and Helaena, and his sons, Prince Aegon and Aemond. The tension in the room was palpable, for the matter at hand was of great import.

Viserys cleared his throat, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "My lords and ladies, thank you for convening today. As you all know, our realm faces a time of uncertainty, and it is imperative that we secure our alliances and strengthen the bonds between noble houses."

The council members exchanged knowing glances. They were well aware of the precarious state of the Seven Kingdoms, with simmering tensions and rivalries threatening to erupt into open conflict.

Aegon, the young prince, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had been aware of the impending discussion, and it filled him with unease. He glanced to his left, where the Baratheons, Borros, and Olira, sat. His betrothed, Olira Baratheon, sat with an impassive expression, her stormy blue eyes fixed on the table before her.

Viserys continued, "To that end, it is my decision to strengthen our ties with House Baratheon. I have arranged a betrothal between my son, Prince Aegon, and Lady Olira Baratheon."

The announcement hung in the air, and Aegon could feel the eyes of the council turn toward him. His heart sank at the prospect of this union, a marriage arranged for political gain rather than love. He shot a quick glance at Olira, but her face remained a mask of composure.

Borros Baratheon, Olira's father and the lord of Storm's End, nodded in agreement. "A wise decision, Your Grace. This alliance will bring stability to the realm."

Aegon bit his lip, struggling to contain his frustration. He had hoped for a different future, one where he could choose his own path. But the burdens of his birthright weighed heavily upon him, and he knew that his desires were secondary to the needs of the realm.

Olira, on the other hand, gave no outward reaction. She had been prepared for this moment by her father, taught to hide her emotions behind a stoic facade. She understood the duty that came with her noble blood, even if it meant sacrificing her own desires.

Viserys concluded the meeting, "Let it be known that this betrothal is a sign of unity and strength. The wedding will take place in due time, and I expect both Houses Targaryen and Baratheon to uphold their obligations."

As the council members began to disperse, Aegon couldn't help but steal one last glance at Olira. Their fates were intertwined now, whether they liked it or not, and the weight of their responsibilities pressed heavily upon their young shoulders.

The gardens of the Red Keep were a labyrinth of beauty, a testament to the opulence and grandeur of the Targaryen dynasty. As Aegon and Olira strolled along the winding paths, the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle rustle of leaves surrounded them. It was a serene backdrop for a union neither of them had chosen.

Aegon, his arms crossed and his expression sullen, walked a pace ahead of Olira. His displeasure with the betrothal was evident in every step, every furrowed brow. He had not wanted this, had not asked for it, and it was clear he had no intention of making it easy.

Olira, on the other hand, walked with a measured grace, her chin held high despite the growing tension in the air. She had been prepared for a life of duty and had resolved to meet this challenge with civility. Her father had told her that alliances between noble houses were the foundation of the realm's stability, and she was determined to do her part.

Queen Alicent, watching from a discreet distance, hoped that this walk would at least lead to some form of understanding between the betrothed. She knew that her son's disdain for the arrangement was only matched by Olira's quiet determination to make the best of it.

Aegon broke the silence, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "So, Lady Olira, what do you enjoy doing in your spare time? Embroidery? Singing songs of love and honor?"

Olira's patience was wearing thin, and she finally replied, her tone cool and measured. "I find solace in reading, Your Grace. History, politics, and strategies of war interest me."

Aegon scoffed. "Of course, books. Just what every young lady dreams of. I prefer the sword and the thrill of combat, something you probably find rather unladylike."

Olira's eyes flashed with irritation, but she maintained her composure. "Not unladylike, Your Grace, simply different. I believe that knowledge can be a powerful weapon as well."

The tension between them was palpable, but Queen Alicent had hoped that their shared time in the garden would lead to at least a civil conversation. She decided to intervene, approaching the young couple with a smile that barely masked her concern.

"Enjoying the garden, my dears?" the queen inquired, her voice warm but tinged with a subtle hint of authority.

Aegon and Olira exchanged a glance, both recognizing the queen's intent to bridge the gap between them. Aegon grumbled under his breath, but Olira took the opportunity to be diplomatic.

"Yes, Your Grace," Olira replied with a forced smile. "The garden is truly beautiful."

Queen Alicent nodded in approval. "Good. You have much to learn about each other, but I have faith that you will find common ground. After all, you both have the best interests of the realm at heart."

As the queen continued to speak, Aegon and Olira exchanged polite nods, masking their true feelings. The walk in the gardens had done little to change their initial impressions of each other, but they both knew that their future was inexorably tied to the success of this betrothal.

And so, they would have to find a way to navigate the treacherous path that lay ahead, one step at a time, whether they liked it or not.

Olira subtly shifted the conversation, attempting to steer it toward the subjects she knew would capture Prince Aegon's interest. As they walked through the garden, she spoke of the lavish feasts, celebrations, and wine tastings she had attended in Storm's End, emphasizing the pleasures of fine wines and the art of winemaking. She couldn't help but notice Aegon's attention wavering from his mother's discussion about politics and alliances to her words.

Aegon's eyes brightened, and he leaned in slightly, his curiosity piqued. "You enjoy wine, Lady Olira?"

Olira nodded with a warm smile, her intuition proving correct. "Indeed, Your Grace. The variety of wines and the craftsmanship that goes into making them have always fascinated me. The different flavors, the stories behind each vintage, it's like experiencing a piece of history with every sip."

Aegon's demeanor relaxed as he found himself engaged in a conversation more to his liking. "I couldn't agree more. There's something captivating about the way a good wine can transport you to another world, even if only for a moment."

Encouraged by his response, Olira continued, "Perhaps one day, we could share a fine bottle of wine and exchange stories of our favorite vintages. It would be a pleasant diversion from the weight of our responsibilities."

Aegon's initial reluctance to spend time with Olira seemed to be melting away as they discussed their shared interest in wine. He chuckled, a rare smile gracing his features. "You might be onto something, Lady Olira. I could use a distraction from all these talks of alliances and politics."

Queen Alicent observed the change in her son's demeanor, pleased that Olira had managed to capture his attention and steer their conversation in a more enjoyable direction.

As they continued their walk, Aegon and Olira discussed their favorite wines, their experiences at various feasts and celebrations, and their shared desire for moments of respite from the demands of their noble birthright.

Olira had achieved her goal of establishing a connection with Aegon, recognizing that they shared a common interest that went beyond the political union their families had arranged. It was a small victory, but one that held promise for their future together, despite the challenges that lay ahead.

As Aegon and Olira continued to discuss their shared interest in wine, the atmosphere between them lightened, and for a brief moment, it seemed they might find common ground. However, Aegon, known for his brash and sometimes thoughtless remarks, made a comment that shattered the fragile connection they had been building.

With a chuckle, he leaned in closer to Olira and said, "You know, Lady Olira, I've always found the intricacies of wine to be similar to women. Each one has its own unique flavor, and sometimes it's best to savor them all before settling for just one."

Olira's face froze, her smile vanishing. Aegon's comment had not only offended her as a lady but had also revealed his casual and somewhat disrespectful attitude towards women. The disappointment and hurt simmered beneath her stoic expression, but she knew better than to engage in an argument.

"I see," she replied, her voice cool and composed. "Well, Your Grace, I believe I've had my fill of wine and this conversation for today. Please excuse me."

With a polite nod to Aegon and a curtsey to Queen Alicent, Olira turned and gracefully retreated from the garden. Her composure remained intact, but inside, she was seething with indignation and disappointment. She had hoped for a connection, but Aegon's remark had shattered any goodwill she had felt.

As Olira made her way back to her chambers, she couldn't help but wonder how she would navigate this new challenge in her role as Aegon's betrothed. The road to understanding and acceptance seemed longer and more arduous than she had anticipated.

The night Olira changed into her sleep wear before shooing away her handmaidens. The all left her without a word thinking she was going to sleep. She took a deep breath trying to summon as much courage as she could before walking over to the door opening it to show her sword guard, a man she did not know given to her by the king.

"Ser if you will, can you bring me a cup of water, I seem to have already drank that was left in the chamber" The guard turned to look at her. She let out a fake squeal an d hid behind the door.

"Ser please, I am underdressed, just bring me the water and place it inside by the door without looking, I am betrothed to the prince and wish not to tarnish my reputation" She faked a distressed voice, she had mastered the art of voice manipulation ever since she was a young girl. She used it to freak her sisters into thinking she was crying or get them in trouble by using it on their father to get what she wanted.

"Yes of course, my lady" He nodded before scurrying away. Olira smirked before slipping out of her room. She walked as lightly as possible on her feet down the corridors. She had been here before once and somehow still remembered some of the corridors that led to the royal family wing.

She hid behind the corner to see who was there. There was only one guard standing in front of Aegon's bedroom door. She smirked seeing that she needed only to distract him. She looked around her and found a small rock, big enough to fit in her palm, perfect. She scurried behind a huge statue of what looked like The Mother before throwing the rock to the other side of the corridor.

"Who goes there?" Seconds later came the sound of heavy feet walking over. Olira held her breath watching through the small hole between the arm and body of the statue. The guard walked over looking around in search of the intruder. He walked further and further down the corridor with his hand on the hilt of the sword.

Olira moved from behind the statue once he passed her and moved as quickly and quietly as possible. She felt pride fill her when she reached the door and no one stopped her. She opened it and threw herself in before closing it. Aegon was sat on his bed, his back against the headboard, naked as the day he was born. His eyes widened when he saw her, she stood with her back against the door, panting lightly.

"What in the seven hells...?" He pulled one of the pillows to hide his lower region. Olira was actually shocked he had the decency.

"Surprised to see me?" She smirked, cocking an eyebrow up at him. Aegon scoffed rolling his eyes at her.

"Well no shit, what do you want? Where is my guard?" He asked. He moved to stand up with the pillow tightly clutched in his hands to cover his lower parts.

"Well your guard may have gone on a small walk, he will be back soon" She shrugged her shoulders. She moved to walk closer to him slowly. Her lips high in a smirk that sent shiver down aegon's back.

"What do you want?" Aegon asked. He frowned when she moved even closer to him until they were almost chest to chest with one another.

"I want to punish you, my bad prince" She answered simply. Aegon huffed and moved to push her with one hand but she used both to push him first making him fall back onto his bed.

"Punish me? How dare you, I am the prin..." Aegon's words froze in his mouth when she kneeled down to her knees.

"You've been mean to me, my prince" She wrapped her hands around the edges of the pillow, slowly pulling it away. Aegon tried to resist but her words sent a shock of pleasure straight down to his cock.

"I do not know of what you speak" He tried to justify himself. She smirked shaking her head while clicking her tongue. The pillow now was fully away and seated on the bed.

Olira's eys moved down from his face to look at his chest then torso and lasly his hard cock, standing proud and ready to be pleasured. Aegon's breath got caught in his throat when she reached up and grabbed him at the base.

"I wish to show you the benefit of marrying me, my prince" Olira started moving her hand up and down slowly, teasingly.

"Go on then" Aegon smirked. He looked down watching her face as she slowly moved her hand up and down his shaft. He can see that she did not have much if any experience.

He placed his hand on top of her own and started guiding her. His heart soared at the feeling of her soft hands on his member. She watched the movement with caution, trying to learn. Poor thing came to seduce him ony for her to lose control without even noticing.

"Dirty girl, you came here to fuck your prince?" Aegon teased her. Her head snapped up so fast he feared she may have given herself a whiplash.

"I do not wish to fuck my prince, I simply want to show him reason" She answered. She retrieved her hand but he kapt a hold on it making sure she does not run away.

"But what if your prince wishes to fuck you?" He asked, his grip tightening on her hand. He slowly began pulling it up, watching as her eyes widened in almost fear.

"Then I advice him to go find a whore, for I am not one" She responded harshly. She tried to pull away, successfully and made her way to the door.

Aegon was quick on his feet, placing his hand on the door before she could open in and held it in place. She gasped shocked and turned to face him confused.

"Your prince shall not force you, dirty girl, but he wishes for the same luxury" Aegon placed his other hand on the door trapping her between his naked body and the door.

"What ever do you mean?" She murmured, he was so close, his nose touched her own and her eyes were fighting not to close. His body heat was engulfing her along with his smell, he smelled like flowers and wine. She had heard he rarely bathed meaning his mother had forced him to bathe before they took their walk together.

"You wanted to show me the benifit of our marriage, I want to do the same" Aegon answered. he leaned his forehead on her own, nuzzling his nose with her own sensing the way she shuddered at his touch.

"What is it you w-wish to show me" She sighed. He leaned down almost like he wanted to kiss her only to dodge her lips and move down to his knees, fully naked and against the door.

"What are you doing?" She whimpered. He pushed up her skirts making her squeal in surprise.

"If you wish for us not to be caught, you should stay quiet" Aegon delivered a slap to her exposed thigh. Olira slapped a hand to her mouth and waited.

Aegon moved her small cloth to the side exposing her cunt fully to him. He smirked seeing her so wet, she probably did not even know why she was wet, women in her station were usually taught that only the man found pleasure and to lay back and take it while the man enjoys himself.

"Aegon" Her whispered was muffled by her hand when he blew lightly on her cunt.

Aegon ignored her and dived right in without a second thought. Letting a moan at the mere taste of her lower lips. Olira felt her knees growing weak at the feel of him.

Aegon pushed his tongue inside of her knowing it will not hurt her nor will it take her virtue away. His hands wrapped tightly at her calfs. One slid up and up slowly to hold her thigh making sure it stayed open. He gripped the flesh so hard it will surely bruise soon.

Olira tried her best to hide the moans tryin to escape her lips, it was harder than she thought it to be. Her hand that was attempting to open the door snapped down to grab the bright locks of Aegon, who shook his head from side to side nudging her numb with his nose with each shake.

Aegon hummed at the taste of her arousal increasing with each swipe of his tongue. He pulled back from her cunt and moved one of his hands, he held his thumb out and ran it over her pearl. Olira's legs began to shake as he swiped over it with his thumb over and over again.

"Such a dirty girl, growing wetter with each touch as if you expected it" Aegon smirked watching her face scrunch up in pleasure. She shook her head trying to deny his words but being unable to even speak. She felt so much pleasure and pressure.

Aegon used his other hand to raise one of her legs and rest it upon his shoulder before diving right back it. Tongue swiping over her slit before sinking inside of her. Olira's head fell back against the door with a loud bang.

"Are you alright, your grace?" The guard outside asked, he must have returned during the ordeal.

Aegon removed his mouth from Olira's cunt debating if he should answer but his thumb did not cease it's movement. He decided that he was feeling merciful for her and responded "Alright, just banged my foot"

Olira's whole body tensed feeling a strong pressure in her lower region. Her hand in his hair pushed him closer to her cunt. Aegon obeyed sensing her shakiness increasing faster than normal. His eyes watched her with his tongue deep inside of her, he moved his tongue with as much speed as he could go.

Olira had to fight a shout when the most intense wave of pleasure hit her. She had never felt something like this before in her life. Aegon chuckled when she began sinking down against the door. He pushed her leg off his shoulder so she wouldn't hurt herself. Instead he pulled away and moved to stand up.

"That w-was ... what are you doing mff.." Olira looked up at Aegon about to praise whatever he had done only for him to place a hand over her mouth.

"I am not done, dirty girl, open your mouth" He ordered. She obeyed opening her mouth slightly not know what he wanted.

Aegon chuckled shaking his head but gave her the benefit of the doubt. Not noticing he had grabbed the bace of his cock too busy looking over his face, the way his eyes lit up when meeting hers. She gasped in shock when he placed the tip of his cock on her lips.

"Open up, dirty girl" Aegon tapped her lips with his cock. Olira opened her mouth enough for him to begin pushing his cock inside of her mouth. Aegon deciding to be gentle moved his cock inside slowly until the hair on the top touched her nose. She pushed him off coughing and chocking much to his amusement.

"I said open up" Aegon delivered a small yet firm tap, almost a slap, to her cheek. She gasped but obeyed his order. He pushed his cock inside of her mouth again massaging her head to comfort her while his own head fell back with a loud groan.

"Now suck, dirty girl"

The unexpected change in Aegon's attitude did not go unnoticed in the Red Keep. The court was abuzz with whispers and speculations about the prince's sudden transformation. He had gone from being openly opposed to his betrothal to Olira Baratheon to becoming positively smitten with her.

Alicent Hightower, Queen of Westeros, observed her son's transformation with a mixture of surprise and satisfaction. She had orchestrated this betrothal for the sake of political unity and stability, but seeing Aegon genuinely taken with Olira was a pleasant surprise.

Aegon's courtship of Olira was a marked departure from his usual pursuits of wine and women. He showered her with attention, gifting her flowers of various colors and varieties, each bouquet more exquisite than the last. He composed heartfelt letters, seeking her company at every opportunity, and displayed an uncharacteristic tenderness when they were together.

Olira, who had initially been taken aback by Aegon's earlier behavior, found herself touched by his gestures and drawn to his newfound gentleness. She realized that beneath his brash exterior, there was a man capable of genuine affection and kindness.

As the wedding date drew nearer, Aegon's enthusiasm for the union only grew. The court could hardly believe the transformation in the young prince, who was now eagerly anticipating his marriage to Olira. Some whispered that love had blossomed between them, while others attributed it to Olira's charm and influence.

The queen herself was pleased with the turn of events. Aegon's affection for Olira had brought a sense of unity and harmony to the court, and she had no doubt that their union would strengthen the bonds between House Targaryen and House Baratheon.

And so, as the day of their wedding approached, Aegon and Olira stood on the precipice of a new chapter in their lives. The young prince, once opposed to the match, was now eager to become the husband of the woman who had captured his heart. Their love, unexpected as it may have been, had the potential to shape the future of Westeros in ways no one could have foreseen.