#jacaerys targaryen x oc

[starogeorgina]

𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

Paring: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targ oc

Warnings: Swearing, smut, incest

1.18

Notes: Massive thank you to everyone who's supported this story!💕

You start to grow nervous waiting on the carriage arriving from Winterfell. After waking up earlier than normal, you skipped breaking fast and went straight to the courtyard to wait on your children, your heart beating rapidly with excitement at the thought of seeing them so soon. The maester was supposed to change the bandage on your hand first thing, but this was too important; you didn’t want to miss such an important moment.

“I hope nothing has happened. It is a long journey.”

Jace tightens his grip around your waist. “Daemon is out flying on Caraxes, to make sure nothing happens. If something was wrong, we would know by now.”

Turning your head back, you look up at him and say, “I know you’re right, but I can’t stop worrying.”

“All your fears will settle once you see them.” Jace smiles and presses a kiss on your cheek. “I don’t know who will be more excited to see us—our children or Clara. She will need a few moons to recover—Lyarra!”

The gates to the courtyard open, and a carriage with a banner of House Stark comes into view. Hand in hand, you and Jacaerys run down the steps to greet them.

“My babies!” You smile so much that it starts to hurt your cheek. Bliss was the only word to describe how you felt. “Oh, my love's are finally home.”

The carriage stops just before the steps, and as soon as the door is open, Avery and Aethan burst out, and Jacaerys picks them both up. You kiss the backs of their heads.

“Mother! Kepa!”

Before Aemma can even step foot on the ground, you pull her into a hug and say, "My girl, my sweet girl.” You hold out your other hand for Rhaenys to take. “It’s okay, my darling.”

Looking behind her, Rhaenys reaches her hand out to touch something and says, "Come on, pup.” She jumps out and comes towards you, as does a direwolf pup. She cuddles into your side, “mummy.”

Jace places your sons back down to go to the carriage to receive your babe from Clara.

Tears sting your eyes when your son’s hold onto your skirts. The noose you felt around your neck had loosened since Aegon’s demise, but you never felt completely free of it until now. All you needed was for your five children to be at home, and your world should feel whole again.

“Where is Prince Daemon?” Jace asks; his eyes are trained on the handmaiden’s empty arms. “Where is our son?”

For a split second, you fear the worst until you see an unfamiliar young handmaiden appear from the opposite side of the carriage with your babe sleeping in her arms. “The lady of Winterfell kindly allowed one of her handmaidens, Lady Mormont, to assist me in bringing the children back.”

Tears of relief swell in your husband's eyes. He takes Daemon from her and holds him close, kissing the crown of his head. You would have the chance to hold your babe soon enough, but for now, you were content seeing him in his father's arms.

Quietly, you ask, “I’m presuming she is trustworthy.”

“I would not allow her near them if I didn’t believe so.”

You catch Jacaerys eye, and the two of you share a look and smile.

—

Lightly rocking your babe you watch as his brown eyes start to close over. His belly was full from feeding, so he would be settled for a couple of hours. His dark hair was starting to curl, closely resembling his father’s. He was truly beautiful.

“Ow!”

“Boys, be more gentle with your toys,” you say softly.

You feel the warmth from the fireplace against your back as you sit cross-legged on the floor, facing the rest of your children. Avery and Aethan were playing with their toys, wooden horses, and dragons. Rhaenys was curled up beside her pup, which, according to Clara, Lord Stark gave her as a gift since the pup followed your daughter everywhere. Aemma tried to fight sleep but has fallen asleep on your bed.

The excitement of being reunited with you and Jace, seeing their new rooms, and trying to comprehend their grandmother now being the queen was exhausting for your children.

“It is rude to stare, my love.”

“I’m only admiring,” Jace chuckles.

He had entered the room silently moments ago, but you had felt Jacaerys watching closely, taking everything in. He sits beside his sons on the floor, and Aethan hands him a toy and says, “Thank you.” Jace inspects the miniature dragon in his hands and asks, “What is this one called?”

“Arrax. It looks like Uncle Luke’s dragon.”

Jace’s eyes are full of tears; he ruffles the boy's hair. “That it does, son, that it does.”

It was hard coming to terms with all the deaths and betrayals your family has suffered, but you prayed time would help. The wounds of losing two brothers would never completely heal, but hopefully it would hurt to speak about them one day.

Five moons later

“I’ve written to Lord Stark, like we spoke of. He and his son Rickon will be our guests of honor in Dragonstone.”

Jace tilts his head, waiting for you to continue. He was sitting across the table from you while breaking fast with your children. “Dragonstone?”

“We are the prince and princess of Dragonstone; what better place to host them than our own castle? I spoke to her grace, and she wants to throw a grand feast to thank Lord Stark and his army for their support.”

He swallows down the food in his mouth while nodding in agreement. “Perhaps once things have settled and the realm has healed, we should return. It’s only a short distance on dragonback; we could still do our duties and spend time with our mother, Daemon, and brother while learning how to rule in our own name.”

“I think it’s a brilliant idea.” You smiled. Jace had a point. As much as you loved watching your mother become queen, you had started to miss the island you called home.

“Mummy.”

Feeling Avery tug on your nightgown, you help him sit on your lap. Unlike his other siblings, who all settled into their new routines and lived in the keep, your sweet boy had only clung to you and spent most nights crying until he was in bed beside you and Jacaerys. Avery reaches his small hand out and takes a piece of fruit from your plate, then rests his head against your chest.

Jace leans over and strokes his silver hair. “What do you think, my boy? Should we return to Dragonstone soon?”

Seeing the way your son’s face lightens up at the mention of returning home was all the confirmation you needed to know it was the right thing to do.

—

The library was empty aside from yourself and Jacaerys, although he hadn’t noticed you yet. After spending the morning in the training yard while Daemon continues to teach you, Rhaena, and Baela basic swordsmanship, you went looking for Jacaerys. There was no queen council being held until later in the day; your older children were attending their lessons, and your babe asleep with a stomach full of milk.

Jace jumps when you sneak up behind him, placing your hands on his waist. “You are a sneaky thing,” he laughs. “How did training with Daemon go?”

“Fine,” you say, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. “It’s been a while since I had you alone, dear husband.”

“Lyarra,” his breath stutters when he feels your hand rubbing over his clothed cock. “You will be the death of me. Please, don’t tease.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Jace turns his head around, grips your face, and presses his lips against your own. “Gods, no.”

Grinning, you untie his breeches, then fall to your knees, freeing his cock as you did.

You take Jace’s hardness into your mouth; your tongue swirls over the tip of his penis, then you start to bob your head back and forth as you suck and lick him. Tears roll down your cheeks when you gag, feeling his cock start to jolt in your mouth. It had been a while since you were intimate, and the last time Jace was focused on your pleasure, and it doesn’t take him long to come undone. He moans loudly while spilling his seed into your mouth.

You wipe away the saliva from your mouth and stand back up, just as Jacaerys fixes his breeches. He pulls you into his embrace and kisses the side of your neck. He whispers, “My love, I need to confess something to you.”

“What?”

“I’ve fantasized about taking you in many different ways in Dragonstone. The council room, the gardens, the great hall…” Jace holds you closer to him. “And when we return, I intend to do just that.”

The thought of Jace bending you over the table in the great hall causes heat to pool between your legs. Giggling, you shake your head and say, “Well, your fantasy will be a reality soon enough.”

“Come, let us go back to our chambers. I’ll have a bath drawn for us.”

Two years later

“Is it true Alicent has died?"

Clara nods and explains further while braiding your hair. “The winter fever took her, princess. The maester had her confined to a secluded room in OldTown when she started showing signs. They say that in her final days, she began asking to see her sons and daughter again.”

You had no love for Alicent; she was the bitch who made your mother's life as awful as she did yours. But you also had no room for hatred or ill-will in your heart. Now that Alicent was at peace, perhaps she was reunited with her family. You twirled the rings on your fingers; the reminder of outliving a child was painful. Aemma has already declared that if she is to have a son, he will be named Rhaegar.

“That’s…sad. How did you hear about this so soon?”

Her cheeks reddened slightly. “My friend—who currently serves as a handmaiden in OldTown mentioned it in her last letter to me.”

Her friend was the same handmaiden who traveled back with her from Winterfell, a pretty Northern girl with copper hair. You were more than certain the ladies were closer than most friends, but to avoid rumors spreading, they stopped visiting one another as frequently. “Princess Aemma will be in need of her own lady-in-waiting soon,” you point out. “Perhaps Lady Mormont would want the position as she is familiar with my children.”

Clara smiles and nods her head. “I shall say to her. That’s the braiding-finished princess.”

“Thank you—” You’re cut off when you hear fast-paced footsteps entering your room. The door to your chambers is opened, and Rhaenys runs excitedly. Her hair was styled identically to the way you wore it most days. “Reni, what have I told you about running in the halls?”

The walls outside your chambers were decorated with dragon statues. As a girl, you bumped into the solid objects many times and knew how painful it could be.

“Sorry, mother,” she says as she steps in front of you and twirls. “Do you like it?”

The dress Rhaenys was wearing was the first one she had designed for herself. The gown was olive green with pale orange ribbons and embroidery on it. The smile on Jacaerys face when he saw the dress with colors identical to his own dragon was priceless; he almost became teary-eyed.

“You look beautiful, my girl.”

When Clara finishes the last touches to your outfit, you hold your hand out for your daughter to take.

It was Avery and Aethan’s name day, and a small celebration was being held in the great hall. A ship with Daemon, your siblings, and Lord Corlys arrived the night before. Princess Jaehaera and Prince Maelor would be present as well; both children inherited their gentle nature from their mother.

Her grace, the queen, had flown to Dragonstone Syrax a few days prior. The longest you had gone without seeing her was a week. Even living apart you had remained extremely close.

Four years later

Hearing your agonizing screams of pain, Jacaerys barges into your shared martial chambers. The maester and midwives kept assuring him that nothing was wrong and he should remain waiting outside, but he could take it no longer. You are thankful this labor was quicker than the last; your water had only broken the night prior, and now that the sun is rising again, you are only a few pushes away from the pain being over.

“Jacaerys!”

He comes to your side and takes hold of your hand. “I’m here, I’m here!”

“It fucking hurts!” You sob, “It hurts so much.”

“The pain will be over soon,” he says, planting a kiss on your sweaty forehead. “And you’ll have the babe in your arms.”

“One more push,” the midwife orders.

Screaming, you use all your remaining strength to bring another child into the world. Holding out your arms, desperate to hold your newborn for the first time. The seconds it takes for the midwife to wrap the babe in a blanket feel like it's never ending.

“A strong boy, kicking like a goat.”

Tears roll down Jace’s cheeks as he watches the babe finally be placed in your arms. “I’m proud of you, Lyarra.”

“My sweet boy,” you say, taking in the newborn's appearance. He has typical Targaryen features aside from his dark hair, like his fathers. “He’s so tiny and perfect.”

—

After your handmaidens help you change into a fresh gown and the bedding is changed, Jacaerys assists you over to the chairs by the fireplace in your chambers. You take his arm before sitting down.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen her grace this delighted in a long time,” Clara, who had followed closely behind, “As are the children, they are keen to meet the newest prince to grace us in Dragonstone.”

Since the day the maester confirmed your pregnancy, your mother and Daemon have been overjoyed with excitement. Rhaena was expecting her first child within the next moon, so it only added to the joy of knowing you got to bond over experiencing being with child at the same time.

Jacaerys opens the door for your mother to enter the room, and he and Daemon go to inform your children and siblings that it’s a boy before bringing them through to be introduced to him. “Lyarra, my sweet,” your mother says, walking over to you with tears in her eyes. “The gods have been kind and granted you another beautiful babe, have you thought of a name yet?”

“No, not yet,” you say, lifting your gaze from the babe to meet hers. “Can you stay longer than a few days this time?”

She brushes fallen hair out of your eyes and says, “I will stay however long you want me, my love. If I’m needed at court, I can go on Syrax, then come back.”

You rest your head on her shoulder when she sits beside you and says, “Thank you.”

“You are my daughter; I’ll always be here for you.”

—

Hearing footsteps, Jacacerys looks up from the book in his hands, smiling when he sees you walking towards him. The room is almost in complete darkness, aside from a few candles and the moonlight.

“It’s late; you should be resting.”

“As should you, my prince.”

Jace puts the book down and offers you his hand to help guide you down onto the chair beside him. He kisses the back of your scarred hand. “I swear by the faith of the seven, you are the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen.”

“Stop,” you blush. “It’s a sin to lie, husband.”

“I speak only the truth,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

The day had been overwhelming, to say the least. It was hard to believe your son was almost a day old and was still yet to be named. “I’m exhausted, but I reckon the babe will wake up for a feed soon.” You cuddle into Jace’s side and say, “I’ve thought of a good name, one of great honor.”

“What is it?”

“Jacaerys.”

Jace plants a kiss on the crown of your head and says, “I love you, now and forever.”

𝘎𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘘𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘳𝘢 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯, 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 ��𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘭𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘩𝘰𝘺��𝘢𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘔𝘦𝘯, 𝘓𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘮, 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦.

𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘳𝘢’𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘢𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘘𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘓𝘺𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯.

[werelosingdaylight]

MEET THE OCS OF “UBI AMOR, IBI DOROR”

BACKSTORY| Viserys and Aemma had a daughter and a son, twins; Rhaenyra and Matalyx Targaryen. While Viserys wed Rhaenyra to Laenor Valeryon, Matalyx refused to marry a chosen suitor and instead married himself to the woman he had loved since childhood, after seeing the love the couple shared Viserys had them remarry in the tradition of the Targaryen house. Out of their marriage they had two children; Twins, once again, a boy and a girl. Now, years later Matalyx and his family have returned to kings landing for the hearing about his nephews claim to driftmark. Where family reunite and hidden feelings resurface; Vysella Targaryen, Eldest child of Matalyx and Shaera, had caught the hearts of many people throughout the years, multiple eyes belonging to family members. Targaryen traditions have made the family immune to the harsh realities of their relationships with each other.

MATALYX TARGARYEN

⠀⠀ -> Proud single parent of Vysella and Baemion Targaryen.

⠀⠀ -> Has a daughter-in-law who acts like his bodyguard [despite knowing he doesn’t need it]

⠀⠀ -> Has turned away every suitor asking for Vysella’s hand and encourages her to marry for love as he and her brother did.

⠀⠀ -> Radiates Black Cat energy but is a golden retriever for his children.

⠀⠀ -> Always tired of the trouble his children cause, but will always cover for them and have their backs.

VYSELLA TARGARYEN

⠀⠀ -> Insanely Loyal to those close with her, her loyalty knows no bounds.

⠀⠀ -> Can and will fight anyone who talks shit about her family.

⠀⠀ -> A very sassy feminist.

⠀⠀ -> She has a pretty face but will lovingly bully the people she loves.

⠀⠀ -> Has multiple people wanting her hand in marriage.

⠀⠀ -> Just wants to read her books in peace.

BAEMION TARGARYEN

⠀⠀ -> Worships the ground Maerya walks on.

⠀⠀ -> Will cover any crimes committed by his wife, sister, or father.

⠀⠀ -> Wants Vysella to take the throne.

⠀⠀ -> Looks mean but is a complete sweetheart.

⠀⠀ -> Only trusts leaving his wife’s side if she is with Vys [Despite knowing that Mae can take care of herself, he would rather be safe then sorry.]

⠀⠀ -> Can be found following after his wife and glaring at anyone who stares or makes her uncomfortable.

MAERYA TARYREOS

⠀⠀ -> Has a huge distain for Alicent and will jump at any chance to make it known.

⠀⠀ -> Vys’ shadow. [The two are always together]

⠀⠀ -> One of the best swordswomen in the seven kingdoms.

⠀⠀ -> Looks grumpy, is grumpy [With a few exceptions]

⠀⠀ -> Is one of the few people whose opinion Vysella cares about. [Vys respects Maes opinion more than anyone elses, often asking for her input on important matters]

⠀⠀ -> Can be seen around the red keep being followed by her husband [Baemion]

[number-0-iz]

Chile anyway so should I post my Jace X OC fic here or just do it on wattpad like usual? Or both?👀

[myladysapphire]

Solace

As the daughter of Alicent Hightower you had been fed stories of your older sister and her children, so when you are bethrothed to Jacaerys you arent too sure as to what to expect, and go into your courtship expecting the worse, only to find out you couldn't have been more wrong.

word count: 5,908

CW: MDI 18+, smut, fluff. p in v, fingering, loss of virginity, oral (f reciving), incest not beta read!

Jacaerys Veleryon x Fem!reader

a/n - no war au

Masterlist

She had been betrothed to Prince Jacearys since they were both children, before most noble children even knew the expectation of one day getting married off and yet since the day of said betrothal, they had not spent a single moment together. Nor had you exchanged a single letter nor a single thought of the other, at least she had not. 

In all honesty she had simply lived as if he and their impending marriage did not exist, so when he returned for his brother's hearing and for their courtship to officially begin, they were at a complete loss of where to begin, they knew of no common interests, and there family’s had been pitted against each other their entire lives.  Seeing as they had never been close in their youth, nor present much time together, seeing as she had kept to herself or Heleana, and Jacearys having spent most of his time with his brother and hers.

She had always preferred solitude, preferred to keep to her books, painting, and her beloved dragon Gaelithox. Gaelithox perhaps the only being she would spend day after day with willingly. 

she had hoped he would be similar. Though from what she could remember, he always seemed to find himself surrounded by others, not once does she remember seeing him alone. Perhaps if she had then she would have gotten to know him. But for her crowds were her worst fear, talking to more than one person or anyone was really. But Jacearys was always the centre of attention, with his good looks and charisma, it seemed he never begged for attention, it just always simply found him. She hoped marrying him would not force her to become the same.

How they expected her to one day be queen confused her. With Jacearys as the future king she would have all these responsibilities and have to do everything she hated. Her mother had made sure to tell her that, to start to show her what would be expected of her.

For all she knew it was a scare tactic from her mother, y/n knew her mother hated them, she would call them bastards and would whisper in her ear more and more rumours about her eldest sister and her eldest son. 

So, when he arrived all she could do was watch him. Scared to start a conversation, and too nervous to make any moves towards him. So she stood from the sidelines as he found himself surrounded by the keeps inhabitants. 

As she watched him at dinner, following lucerys victory of being declared the future lord of the tides, she very much doubted he would like solitude as much as she did. The few moments where he found himself not in conversation, he almost seemed nervous. She feared he would never understand her fear of crowds, or her hate for balls and feasts. Nor understand what her mother referred to as her quirks. He was loud and charismatic, all traits she lacked. He was drawn to crowds and seemed to thrive at the events she hated. But he seemed to suffer in the moments she loved the moments alone, the quiet moments.

She had been forced to sit away from her usual seat and sit nearer to the centre, a place where all eyes were on her. She sat opposite her eldest sister, Rhaenyra, with Jacearys on one side, and Aegon on the other. 

Aegon had been making crude jokes all evening, whispering and taunting her. Though she had become extremely talented at ignoring him, it was starting to bug her, and all she wished was to retire to bed. 

Luckily, he seemed to be the only one interested in her, until Rhaenyra decided to start a conversation with her. She had never really known her eldest sister, having always been stopped by her mother. She remembered when her and Rhaenyra would have bi-weekly garden tea, until her mother found out and banned her from even going near Rhaenrya chambers.

Over the years her mother had told her only the worst about Rhaenyra, and forced her own hatred or mayhap envy of her onto y/n. And yet she only ever seemed to be kind to her when they did interact. 

“Sister?” y/n heard her call out.

“Yes princess?” she responded, stuttering from being addressed. 

“Are you quite alright, you look quite pale?” her face was concerned, as did Jaceaerys when he turned from his seat to face ger at his mother’s words.

“i-“ you looked down starting to pull at the skin on your fingers, “i do not find i fit in well in such gatherings, it's just stress” she spoke, voice shaking as y/n looked down and bringing her fingers to her mouth biting the skin around them.

“Would you like me to escort you back to your chambers?” She heard Jacearys ask in concern. 

At this her mother’s attention was captured, as she snapped her head around, ending her conversation with her grandsire, in doing so capturing the whole tables attention “what’s wrong dearests?”

“i- i would like to retire mother?” y/n almost begged, desperate for the offered reprieve.

“of course Aem-“her mother began, before being interrupted, clearly offering Aemond to escort her to her chambers. 

“I shall escort her,” Jacearys interrupted, standing from his seat and offering his hand that

she took it nervously.  These were the most words either had spoken for each other, at least that she could remember. 

Walking down the halls of the keep, she found herself in a comfortable silence.  Though Jacearys seemed to find it rather uncomfortable as he began to ramble on about gods knows what.

“so i told Luke -“

She hummed, responding to a question she probably heard minutes ago, she hated to admit it but she was seriously struggling to follow whatever he was talking about. The topic of which changed near every second. 

He stopped walking suddenly, causing her to be pulled back as their arms were still interlinked. He seemed to finally realise he was talking nonsense and had lost her completely “I’m sorry, I’ve been rambling on and you can’t even follow a word of what i was saying i-“ 

“oh no i- i, well yes, but I believe you are just nervous… as am il” y/n spoke softly. 

He nodded, “your right, i- i have been trying to think of anything i know about you, any shared memories and yet i can not find a single thing” he shook his head, seemingly ashamed.

“oh well… we never really talked until today, i always much preferred my own company to that of others”

“oh i- really?” he sounded confused as if spending time by himself was beyond him.

“i always found i was always more myself when with others, in fact i find myself nervous when I am alone '' he spoke, slowly making sure not to ramble on once more.

“I suppose I have never found such solace with another person as to feel myself with another person” you looked down, she too seemed so polar to one another and feared her solitude would always be interrupted once she married him. 

“I understand that, Luke is the same way” he looked at her then, “i hope that i can be the person you find solace in, one day..” he took her hands, stoking them softly, it was always a hard thing for her, touch. Always avoiding it, and only taking hugs to shaking someone’s hand when she knew social construct dictated she should. And yet with him it was fine it seemed nice almost, something she could get used to, even find solace in.

“I would like that”  she nodded, and he gave her a sweet smile, relief almost washing over his face. He took her arm once more and led her back to her chambers, this time instead of rambling, he simply asked her questions about herself, and for once she happily answered them.

The next day she was awoken to the sound of rapped knocks on her door. Though she normally slept in, it was still rather early for such a thing. Opening the door she saw Jacaerys standing with a bouquet of flowers, more specifically peonies, a flower that you would often find embroidered on several of her dresses. 

“Prince-“

”Jace” he interrupted “ please call me Jace, we are to be a married soon it is only right” 

“Jace” she said slowly, getting used to the informality she lacked with even her own family , “what are you doing here so early?” 

“Early?” he laughed, as if if the idea that nine in the morning could ever be considered early,  “i suppose it could be”

”Why are you here?” She asked, almost irritated.

“Sorry,” he spoke, reaching his arm out to present her with the peonies'' i simply came to ask if we may break our fast, with the hope you had yet to eat and yet it seems i woke you,” he shook his head “i apologise, i am used to waking up early for training. I should have thought you may have preferred to sleep in” he looked down nervously.

Sniffing the flowers, she moved into her room, leaving the door agar as an invitation for Jace to come in. ”I would like that” she nodded, “Though this is still rather early for me, so i shall need to call my maids to help me dress and prepare our breakfast”

”early?” He again asked, “what time do you normally wake?”

”Mostly before noon, but not before 10,” you looked up with a small smile, “i find i can sleep the days away if allowed, it is one of the few things i can never seem to get enough off”

He laughed, the nerves leaving him slightly. “I find i am always awake by eight, at the latest, sadly i do not possess the same skill to sleep in, a skill i am much jealous of.” He smiled, “ i shall have the guards fetch your maids and order breakfast, and perhaps tomorrow we may share lunch instead” 

“I would like that,” she nodded.

Their fast was spent with the exchange of shy smiles and timid questions asked, as time went on  they grew more comfortable and found their rhythm, and she found the tiredness she felt from talking to others never came. 

The next moon was perfect, each day she would wake, dress, then Jace would meet her and she broke her fast and he took his second meal. Then they would walk the gardens. After a few days, she confessed how typically she would ride Gaelithox the second she awoke, and soon they found they were going for dragon rides every morning. Vermax and Gaelithox enjoying each other's company. Every second was filled with chatter, and those few that were not, neither felt any awkwardness, just contentment, solace.

They seemed to spend almost every second of every day with each other and yet she not once found it tiring, or wished for a reprieve, she simply wished for more.

There were even days where she wished for no talking and Jace was more than happy to spend the whole day in silence, simply enjoying each other's company, as they went about their own tasks.

She felt as if she was learning everything there was to know about him, through his stories she felt as if she knew his brothers, his family, like she had grown up with them , and not just watching them. She learnt his quirks and he learnt hers. And every day they seemed to learn something new. 

But today was the first day she would spend without him since his arrival, with her father , the king, asking for Jace to accompany the small council meetings from now on. 

So she had planned to spend the day alone, resuming her old daily routine even on the days where Jace was not in her company. 

That was until her mother decided to skip the small council meeting and spend the day with her.

”Do not ever trust them, dearest” her mother tutted, brushing through her hair. “They only wish for you and he to grow close so when the time comes you are on their side-“

She had tried to tune her out, but the instant comments answered messing with her head. She felt as if she was falling in love with Jace and yet they way her mother spoke of him, it was as if he was worse than Aegon, a fact she knew was not true.

“mother!” she finally  snapped , shaking her head she pulled away from her mother, “i do not care! Jace shall be my husband and as you have reminded me since the day I first bleed, that my duty is to my husband and his family before my own.” she then whispered to herself “a fact you do not follow yourself” continuing she said “ so why now when it is the son of the woman you despise, am I to do the opposite?” It was so out of character for her and yet years and years of hearing the words bastard and betrayal and whispers of war, she was finished. 

She fully pulled away from her mother and stood up, straightening her dress, “this past moon i have felt more seen and known by Jace than anyone my whole life. My whole life I have detested company, and chatter, and have at any and all attempts avoided events. and now i find the one person i do not detest, and would falsely attend any event he wishes me to, someone i enjoy spending time with, my future husband! You wish to ruin it for me! Do you not want me to be happy?” She nearly yelled, her face turning from the sweet, shy and docile face it had always been had turned angry “you clearly do not wish for Heleana to have happiness, as clear with her marriage to Aegon at three and ten!” She was steaming, years of biting her younger so as to not gain attention, or do more talking that’s necessary, bitterness flowed through her.

”dearest i-“ her mother started, moving towards and reaching for her to pull her in a hug, only to be met by an instant rejection.

”I simply wish for whatever war you are making up in your head to end, so you can finally allow me the happiness I deserve!” And with that she walked about, only to be met with Jace and Rhaenyra's face as she walked out. 

Jace chased after her, leaving his mother left to deal with Alicent.

”y/n” he called out, “y/n stop!”

“No, I can't,” she said as she continued down the halls, though she did slow down, allowing Jace a chance to catch up with her. “if i stop walking I’ll march right back in there and apologies!” she proclaimed.

“I'm sure you won't, you did the right thing '' Jace spoke, still trying to catch up with her.

“i have bite my tongue my whole life, never expressing my thoughts or opinions, and today i did!” she spoke, as she realised she was walking towards Jace’s chambers. She didn’t even think of where she was going, having stormed out of her own rooms, it seemed that in this past month his room had become a comfort to her.

Finally catching up in time to open the door to his rooms. “y/n you don’t have to explain, you didn’t do anything, you just spoke up for yourself and…for me” y/n swear she saw him blush.

“i know it was hard for you, that talking and expressing yourself is something your struggle with…but you stood up for yourself it’s nothing you have to feel bad about it’s something you should be proud of” he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips “and in all honestly  i was rather impressed”

“you where?” she blushed, stepping one closer. 

he nodded, “ you know me and my mother were coming to your chambers to discuss the wedding” he said wrapping his arm around her waist. a movement and touch she had now grown to love. “ We are to be married in a fortnight” his face moved closer to her.

“We are?” she questioned, her breathing getting heavier. 

he nodded, there faces so close they were sharing their breaths “yes, soon you will be my wife, and i your husband and your mothers silly little rants will have no sway any longer” 

she gasped, he leant forward and finally kissed her, it was soft and sweet, leaving them both a blushing mess. 

The next two weeks moved slowly, filled with wedding planning. 

Her relationship with her mother was strained, finding most of the planning to be with her eldest sister Rhaenrya and even Heleana more so than her own mother. And the few times she was there she simply sent a glare in their direction and took at every laugh and smile.

She found that she rather enjoyed her sister's company, the two having a few similar interests. Rhaenyra seemed kind and cared for her children a great deal and as a result she did with her too. 

She knew her mother cared, but watching her mother interact with Rhaenyra highlighted that most of her mothers objections were actually ones of jealousy. She was Jealous of Rhaenyra and more so of Daemon, as he received more glares the more he and Rhaenrya showed affection to one another. So much jealousy that she swear she saw some longing in her gaze whenever she stared at Rhaenrya.

The day before her wedding she finally found herself alone with her mother though from the way her mother barged into her room she knew the conversation the pair were about to have would not be a pleasant one.

“sit down dearest” she spoke as she herself got comfortable.  Doing as her mother bid, she sat beside her. Her mother quickly took her hand in hers, tight enough that even if she were to recoil it would not break her free. 

“When I had this. Conversation with your sister, she already knew some of what was to come, with her Marrying Aegon, and will he loved to taunt her with the gory details for moons before their wedding” Alicent took a deep breath. “On the morrow you will be wed, and with that shall come some expectations” 

she nodded, not quite sure what her mother meant. “not only will you be taking on some of my duties but there is also the expectation of an heir…” she looked at her then, expecting her to interrupt in some way. She stayed quiet, she knew she would have to have children but how the act itself was done was peculiar to her.

Her mother shifted uncomfortably, “once you are wed the marriage must be consummated” she awkwardly grabbed at her hands, “it will be uncomfortable but some pleasure can be found in the act” she sent her mother peculiar look, causing her mother to cough uncomfortably and once again move to explain “your husband will…insert himself in you, and spill his seed, allowing a babe to be made, though it can take some time so i shall prey you are lucky and conceive soon…”

she looked down quietly “mother “she spoke slowly, “Aegon is my brother, though he and i aren’t close i have…walked in on him numerous times, time enough to know what sex is” 

Her mother was shocked, looking down and shaking her head, “your brother has no shame-“

“mother, i also have a septa who taught me” she laughed, Heleana only did not know because she was young mother, i am aware, in fact me and-“ she cut herself off not wanting her mother to become more shocked at hearing how her and Jace have already talked of the wedding night.

They were both inexperienced, though Jace had been taken to brothels by Daemon he had never actually done anything, wanting to save himself for his wife. A fact she was most happy about. 

She loved Jace, she realised. He was everything she did not expect, though he was chatty and loud, he was also kind and sweet, a perfect gentleman. She and him had more in common than not, they both loved to read though Jace found little time to do so, so was more than happy to listen to her ramble on and on about the last book she read. She had shown him how to paint and draw, a skill he, though terrible at, found rather enjoyable, especially when he got the flicking paint at her. She herself had even found she loved a few of his hobbies or well if you can call sword fighting a hobby. 

she remembered the morning, it was still early in their courtship, the first week in.  She and Jace had yet to sleep and yet they could see dawn breaking through the windows in his room. They had spent the whole day and night talking, getting to know each other. “it’s dawn already?” Jace sighed as he moved from his spot on the sofa. she sighed from the movement, missing his warmth. 

“it’s seems so” she hummed 

“it’ll be time for training soon.” he spoke, not necessarily to her. 

“Do you train alone?” 

“Here I do, On Dragonstone Daemon is typically dragging me and Luke out of bed the second the sun begins to rise but here he has no desire to train” he looked at her, “why don’t you join me?” he asked.

“i have never even touched a sword” she exclaimed, as if the idea was a mad one.

He grinned “exactly, it’ll be most entertaining!”

she laughed, “fine, but you must promise to show me your high Valyrian!” y/n declared, he had been complaining how bad his Valyrian was but refused to show her, despite her being fluent and offering to teach him.

He sighed, then a big grin filled his face “very well, let us teach one another, i teach you in swordsmanship and you teach me high Valyrian” 

she laughed “very well! though i make no promises to these swordplay lessons!”

They met again in the training yard, both in training clothes. She had borrowed hers from Jace and she was sure he was trying to sabotage her. His clothes hung from her in an almost comical way, he himself had laughed as she nearly tripped netting the training yard.

“you look beautiful” he said though his eyes were full of mirth as he took in the way his clothes hung from her.

“Perhaps you could have given me some of Luke's clothes instead” she sighed, a frown forming her face as she hung her arm up to show just how big his sleeves were compared to her arms.

“Next time we shall!” he declared, stopping his laughter to then pass her a wooden sword “for now it’s fine.” 

The sword was heavier than she was expecting, as shown by how she nearly dropped it.

“do you do any exercise?” he asked, seeing her near miss with the sword.

she scoffed “no, do i look like someone who does?” she asked bewildered.

he laughed “no i suppose not, and knowing you it doesn't surprise me that you do not” he took the sword off her “perhaps we should start with some exercise”

“what?” she asked, she hated doing anything that could be remotely referred to as exercise. 

“Don’t worry, just some light exercise, to build stamina”  he looked at her then, something passing through his eyes. something she had yet to see. 

He had made her run ten laps, stretch in more easily than she knew possible, And then finally let her hold the sword. “You know I was hoping you wouldn’t take this so seriously” she sighed, hitting the dummy repeatedly. Jace corrects her technique with each hit. “really?”

“Of course not, when you said it I had hoped we would just be jesting around” she sighed dramatically, before moving to place the sword down on the rack. “I think that this ‘lesson’ is over.” she started to walk away only for Jace to grab her arm.

“Wait!” he said, pulling her back to him gently. “Are you really not enjoying yourself?” he asked with a sad smile on his face. 

y/n sighed, before a small smile graced her face “no, but perhaps hearing you speak some high Valyrian may make it more joyous.” she spoke, though she was enjoying herself a little, though it would definitely not be a hobby she would be taking up, though watching him practice his swordsmanship, that is a hobby she will be taking up.

“I- really?” he asked, his face unsure, “nyk-e don’t ȳdragon ziree sȳr”

She laughed, his accent and pronunciation were all over the place, perhaps she was better at swordsmanship after one lesson that he was at high Valyrian after years of lessons, “it’s gaoman daor ȳdragon ziry sȳrī”

I do not speak it well

“See what I mean!” he exclaimed, as she continued to laugh.

“oh Jace, gaomagon daor worry nyke sure kesā jiōragon sȳrkta isse daor jēda” she taunted. 

do not worry I’m sure you will get better in no time

“I have no idea what you just said '' he sighed, shaking his head, “but at least i can hold a sword properly” he taunted back to her.

“Hey! It's my first lesson, have you been learning high Valyrian for how long?” she questioned, a gleam in her eyes.

“hāre jēdri” he replied, a smile as he realised he had pronounced it correctly

Three years

She hummed, beginning to circle him, “hāre jēdri? funny seeing hae heleanas riñar ȳdragon sȳrkta eglie valyrain than ao se issi balrey hāre pōntāla”

three years? Funny seeing as Heleanas children speak better high Valyrian than you and they are balrey three themselves

“I- well, stop taunting me!” he protested.

“Only if we can stop this, will I have reached my yearly exercise limit.. For the year!” she joked, dramatically falling, conveniently into his arms. 

“Fine, fine!” he said, “but you can not mention to anyone about my high Valyrian.” he brought her back to her feet.

“Oh please who would i tell? se lo nyke gōntan, skorkydoso would ao sesīr gīmigon?” she laughed, starting to walk away, only to have Jace chase her back all the way back to her chambers.

and if i did, how would you even know?

It was safe to say she never participated in his training again, but on the odd days she was awake when he went, she found she did in fact enjoy watching him.

It took a few attempts before they found a hobby they both loved equally. Painting. She had been painting for as long as she can remember, Jace however had taken it up about two weeks ago, but seemed to love it as much as she.

“Let's paint each other!” Jace declared, as he saw the paints y/n left out. 

She hesitated, “have you ever painted before?”

“No, but how hard could it be?” She laughed at that, but said nothing.

They sat opposite each other, their art facing only themselves. They gave themselves an hour before they would show each other what they had painted. 

Jace went first. He seemed so proud of himself. To give him credit it was fairly good, though it looked nothing like her. 

“It's good!” she exclaimed, “i like it” she reached forward to grab it “i shall have it framed” she hummed. Jace smiled widely at that.

“Show me yours!” he asked, or more declared as he turned the canvas around himself. 

His face was shocked, mouth wide, “i- wow” he was at a loss of words. “This is incredible!” he exclaimed, his face one of awe, “and you said mine was good!, you were lying!”

She laughed, “no-no it is, i promise” i grabbed his art then, comparing the two, before throwing his on the floor, “oh please, mine is rubbish, yours is wow! I think it shall become my official portrait!” he exclaimed standing up and walking to the doors with it. 

“woah ! where are you going?” she asked standing up to follow him.

“Too show everyone” he stated as if it was the obvious answer.

He showed it to everyone he saw, a blushing y/n on his tail.

“Mother.” she spoke, back once more in the present, “i trust him, more than anyone and anything” at that her mother relaxed, and for the first time in what felt like a long time, she saw a real smile gracing her mothers face.

The day of the wedding came, she had expected nerves and jitters, and yet all she felt was contentment. She knew she was lucky, most brides barely knew their husband before they wed them, and she knew Jace and he knew her. She knew his quirks, his hobbies, and he knew hers. They were polar opposites, and yet they fit so perfectly together. She was excited for this day, and as was he.

The dress she wore was her mothers dress. A white dress with sleeves coming down to her elbow before dropping down to the length of her dress showing a deep red. On her shoulder sat two dragons, dragons she had changed to represent Vermax and Gaelithox. The dragons were joined together and connected in an intricate pattern on her bodice. She wore no jewellery, only a small head piece, woven into the braids on her hair.

“You look beautiful” her mother declared. “Are you ready?”

y/n nodded, taking one final look at herself in the mirror, one last time before leaving her room.

The wedding was a blur, it went by so fast and before she knew it, Jace and her were declaring their love and sealing it with a kiss. They exchanged giddy smiles as they left the 

sept, their hands never wavering from their grip. The night celebrations went by quickly. The only time they never once left each others sides. It was the first event y/n ever truly enjoyed, they had danced four times that night, feasted to their heart's content, and enjoyed the first few hours of being newlyweds. 

Then it was time for the bedding. She had never been more grateful than when Jace shouted at the men attempting to drag her away, and he himself picking her up and taking her to their now shared chambers. 

“I am sorry for that.” he spoke, taking her hand in his, “I had made it clear we would not have a bedding, but -”

“Aegon had other plans' ' she interrupted, “do not worry, it's just who he is' ' she laughed.

For the first time in weeks the silence between them was awkward. Both knowing what was to come, but not how to start.

After a few moments Jace finally moved forward, he reached for her slowly, one had wrapping around her waist, the other reaching up to caress her face. They both looked at each other shyly, before Jace moved in closer, his lips capturing hers. It was soft and slow.

His lips still joined with hers they moved further into the room, his hand moving from her waist to her back, reaching and slowly unlacing the binds of her bodice.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked, breaking away from her lips.

She nodded, “yes.”  As she slowly reached to pull of her dress, leaving her in just her chemise.

Jace groaned his pants tightening, he reached forward once again capturing her lips in his.

 They slowly moved towards the bed, her hands reaching towards his clothes, slowly taking them off and leaving him in his small clothes.

There lips breaking apart, they both took each other in, before finally lying on the bed. Jace continued to kiss her slowly moving from her lips to her neck, his hands reaching down to her should and moving the straps of her chemise down, revealing her breasts.

“gods” he groaned, “you’re so beautiful” he said as he moved down to kiss her breasts. Slowly moving down her body, removing her chemise as he did, leaving her bare beneath him.

He was level with her heat, he had heard of kissing there and the thought of tasting her in such a way made a groan escape him. “Can I?” he begged, unsure of what he meant y/n nodded.

Jace dived in, giving a cautious lick through her folds, he groaned at the taste and quickly went back licking and tasting like a starved man. She herself was moaning in pleasure, her hands clutching the back of his neck, tightening when he finally found her bud.

Releasing the reaction form touching the small bud of nerves, he made sure to focus his efforts on it, sucking it into his mouth, and bringing his fingers up to her entrance, beginning to circle her juices and slowly tease his way into her.

Tensing at the feeling of the intrusion, she gripped further onto him, and started to move away. With his spare hand he gripped onto her and pulled her back to him. His finger now pully in he instead started to focus his intentions of pumping them in and out of her. Causing her to start moaning once again in pleasure, even more so when his second and third finger entered her. Soon she was reaching her peak.

He slowly backed away from her, pulling down his small clothes to revel his hard, thick long length.

“gods” they both groaned at the sight of the others naked body. He slowly crawled back onto the bed, his body covering hers. He once again took her lips with his, in a passionate and heated kiss, his legs slowly parted hers as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Are you sure?” he once again asked, caressing her face.

She nodded, covering the hand on her face with her own and reaching forward to kiss him again, “yes” she consented.

He nodded, kissing her once more as he slowly entered her.

She groaned at the stretch, feeling at slight sting as he slowly entered her. Her face contorted in quick discomfort, but quickly faded as he settled himself fully inside her, allowing her time to adjust.

“gods, you feel amazing” he groaned, moving his head to her neck. “can I move?” he groaned, near begged.

“yes” she said, and he wasted no time, slowly pumping in and out of her. Slowly the discomfort faded and all she could find was pure pleasure.

Moving in and out of her, Jace was moaning, kissing her neck with each thrust, he had never felt such pleasure as he did in this moment.

Slowly picking up the pace, he soon found that sweet spot inside her, that turned her into a moaning mess. Wrapping her arms around his neck she was soon grinding her hips against his, chasing her peak, and he was soon reaching one of his own, spilling his seed inside of her.

Slowly pulling from her, her moved to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her towards him, he kissed her slowly and whispered, “I love you”. In that moment she felt what could only be described as solace.

That night, they did not sleep a wink, nor would they in the moons that followed. Their marriage was a harmonious one, one of love and joy. And when the king finally passed, and Rhaenrya was queen, there was no division of factions of house Targaryen, she liked to think that their marriage has helped branch the units, and make them once more a family.

Even more so when nine moons after their wedding she birthed their first child.

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[councilofcastamere]

WINTER NIGHTS | CREGAN STARK X TARG!READER ꧂

a b r i d g e m e n t : With tensions rising, your elder half-sister Rhaenyra arranges for you to seek asylum in the freezing land of the North. And fortunately for you, Cregan is there to show you how Northmen operate.

TW: penetration, loss of virginity, breeding kink, mentions gender roles but in a sexy way, sexual tension, sibling jealousy, childhood neglect, mentions of death by birth, shitty character development

A/N: I know the girly portrayed is Visenya but her body is tea in this so maybe I do know best…

The second daughter. The oh-so passed over maiden. Not belonging to anything, nor belonging to nothing. Not the first, and not the last. An ever enduring memory to a passed over era. Nothing significant. Never anything significant.

That’s what you were. Insignificance. A beautiful insignificance, if you could see beauty in tragedy. Beauty in all the ways of life. All the little horrible things that make up a big, beautiful, picture. People shan’t look close, you’d assure yourself.

But you were you. Born to the everlasting way of royal life. To the peaceful Viserys, and his second wife, a woman whose name is not all that important. Another maiden from a noble house that perished to childbirth. Lost her life, giving life.

And as it did not to many maidens, the Gods did not grant you the chance to grow up with your mother. The blood that dripped down her thighs had covered you from head to toe as you came into existence, and she had naught of you in her arms before a deep and long slumber overcame her. The stranger had come for her, and he did not slow down on its way. He’d taken her as quick as she’d given you to the world. A quick exchange, you’d suppose.

Now and then you think about her. What she might have looked like, what she might have liked, what she might have been had she survived the wretched burden of your existence. You’d often wonder if infants who survived childbirth ever felt as deep a burden as she did. To have your very first breath of life tainted with the death of an innocent. Tainted with tragedy.

Growing up in King’s Landing hadn’t been all that as it sounded. You’d never really been that happy, as ungracious as it sounded.

You had an older sister - Rhaenyra - who’d occasionally humoured you. You’d never seen much of her, really. Perhaps it was your own fault as well. For not actively seeking her out. For not being the younger sister one was supposed to be. Some people - as close to you as they may be - are just unattainable in your mind. Your kin aren’t your kin until you allow it.

You have better companions than her, you figured. You had your lady-in-waitings. Lady Vievenne of house Swann. Lady Laycie of house Oldflowers. Lady Claere of house Ambrose. Lady Evelyne of house Hightower, who was, by all accounts, a gift from your newest stepmother, Alicent of the house Hightower.

What you also had was younger siblings. Such as Aegon. Though he is naught but a skirt enthusiast, swimming along the sea of young maidens at his whim. But he cares not whether they are, does he?

And oh, do not get yourself started on the one-eyed prince and that smug little smile on his sharp-featured face. Nonetheless, he was gentle. Oh so gentle with his touch. And oh so sinister in the way that made you feel important enough to be in his good graces.

However, you chose to distance yourself from all parties involved as fate made it clear what it had in store. A great slap to the great Targaryen dynasty. A dark cloud looming over the already curse-clad clan.

For even you knew that the only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon, was itself.

“Sister.” you greeted one late evening, having taken flight to Dragonstone on your she-dragon, Starfyre. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“…y/n.” the elder sister called out, a small smile on her lips. “I… am glad for your visit.”

“…I’m certain you are,” you say, trying with all your might to contain a frown.

You eyed her awkwardly as she wiped her sweaty hands off her dress, letting out a sigh as the elder royal wasn’t quite certain how to approach the topic.

“I… understand… things quite haven’t been… that active, in our kinship,” Rhaenyra speaks up, taking a step closer. “And for that, I apologise.”

You could only nod, a small smile gracing your lips at the heartwarming confession of absent love.

“I apologise, also.” you smiled, your hands finding each other behind your back. “I suppose I should have been the one to seek your company and counsel as well.”

“Good.” Rhaenyra smiled awkwardly, a silence engulfing the echo-ridden chambers. “The reason, as to why I called you, might be surprising.”

You froze slightly, heart pounding as the possibilities of implications travelled through your mind. The goosebumps on your arms grew more prominent as a cold breeze passed through.

“Oh?” you answered, cocking a brow. “And what might that be, sister?”

“I ask of you to travel to the North,” Rhaenyra admits, a tone of seriousness overshadowing the warm moment. “I have already sent a raven to Lord Cregan Stark, and he has agreed to host you. If it pleases you, of course.”

No answer came out of your lips, save for your a mere breath. You felt a pang in your heart, consuming your every emotion, making certain you cannot detect how you feel about the news.

A dragon in the north? What a jest. You’d do better in Dorne, surrounded by sun-kissed squires and stable boys than laddish lordlings and Northern butchers.

“And… why should I?” you asked, respect in your tone. “Pardon me, my sister, but why have you made this decision for me?”

“Tensions are rising, y/n. You know that as well as I do.” Rhaenyra sighs, her body language giving up on its tense posture. “And I am aware of your�� complex feelings on it. But to the North you must. I’m sending Rhaena to the Va-”

“Yes, because Rhaena gets to be hosted by a relative of yours, in safety. Meanwhile you sent me off to some Northern stranger!”

“Y/n.” Rhaenyra warned, raising a brow. She took a step closer as you composed your words. “You are my sister, and I will have you safe in the North. The Northmen are honourable men, and in time you’ll know.”

✫彡

And so you were, clad in thick fur, lady Vivenne and lady Evelyne at both sides of yourself. Across from you sat three servants, and somewhere else sat your sworn shield.

“It will be splendid.” Evelyne beamed, properly adjusting her hair, tied up in a bun, similar to the ones the older maidens wear. “We shall meet every dusk, and speak about our day. In front of the fire.”

“Not if I can help it.” you sighed softly. “Apologies, my ladies, but I’ll let you two get at it. I’d love to explore the North in solitude.”

“Right…” Vivenne nodded, looking through the small peep holes as the carriage slowed down, just outside the gates of Winterfell. “We’ve arrived, I suppose. You’ll have to greet Lord Stark. If he’s anything we’ve heard of and more, I wish you luck.”

You only nodded, watching as your ladies exited the carriage, standing at the side of the door. Their faces are cast down, as if in mourning. Perhaps they’re mourning the life of luxury provided at King’s Landing.

You could not blame them for it, really. From growing up in their own house, to growing up in the Royal house, to trade it again to live to see the snowy winters of Winterfell.

You shook slightly, the cold air hitting your face in an instant as you slightly lifted your dress, taking a step out of the three provided for the carriage.

You looked ahead of you, eyes locking on the noblemen and women, standing straight and proud. The women bore clothes of low quality, so obviously sewn to fit any class. The men wore dark furs, contrasting to the blue clothing of the opposite sex.

And in the midst of it, stood Cregan Stark, accompanied by a mere little boy of just two years of age. Your eyes locked upon his stormy-grey ones, his face etched into a stern expression, eyes focused on yours.

You maintained the eye contact, taking each step closer to him.

“Princess Y/N.” Cregan greeted formally, taking your soft hand in his. “Welcome to Winterfell. I am Lord Cregan Stark.”

“Thank you, Lord Stark.” you smile, curtsying in a fashionable manner. Your eyes stood glued on his as his lips brushed against the palm of your hand. “I’m truly honoured to be here.”

“…I’m certain you are.” Cregan answered, eyeing you skeptically.

Hearing false compliments wasn’t out of the ordinary for the wolf of Winterfell. He knew well enough that you weren’t suited for the North. You were a Southern lady, used to the life of feasts, luxury, and sparkly dresses.

“Let us go inside, shall we?” you smiled charmingly, looking up at the tall castle with dread in your eyes.

“Aye, so we shall.” Cregan nodded, his broad shoulders most notable as he sauntered into the opened gates.

✫彡

The first night went unfamiliar to you, the harsh blows of the cold weather creating a prominent presence looming over the already melancholic times.

You sat in your chambers, sitting at the stony window sill as you watched Cregan from above.

The lord was overlooking young squires on the courtyard, engaged in conversation with the knight in charge of guiding the young to-be-knights.

All dressed in fur, shoulders looking as if they were padded. Cregan’s hair was tied up, with two front strands escaping and hanging loose. His grey-blue eyes stood glued at watching the young squire’s techniques, and you could only sigh as you got lost in his appearance.

Ever since stepping foot into the North of Westeros, you’d developed a strange sense of interest in the beauty of Northern men. How they all dressed so grimly, but intimidating. How they’re oh-so honourable and hard working. How they always seemed so clean shaven but rugged all at once.

And you could not help but wonder what it would be like had you wedded one of them.

Being completely honest, you’d never really been the sort of maiden to stay inside of her chambers, waiting for her husband to return from his duty, deprived of affection.

With any Southern lord, being a doting unappreciated wife would never cross your mind.

But with Northern men, however, you had the feeling your efforts wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Before you could continue your vulgarly confusing thoughts, you saw Cregan’s eyes shift to yours, finding your gaze.

You could only lean against the window, a hand on the stony side as you gazed back at him. Your hair was loose, and you were dressed in your creamy beige nightdress.

You held his gaze for a moment, until ultimately turning away, leaving the implications of that gaze to his imagination.

✫彡

By the third day, you’d been reading in the old library belonging to House Stark. You’d sat on a plush seat, the dusty book on your lap as your gentle fingers flipped through the pages.

But you weren’t alone.

Cregan Stark sat near you, his knees in almost touching proximity to yours.

“Aye, the North is cold, but it’s honest.” he tells you, gently shutting his own book. “The snow doesn’t lie about its intention. No courtly games like they play in the South.”

“Oh, please.” you smiled, shutting your book as well. your body shifted so it was facing his, resting your head on one hand. “The courtly games are what makes it so fun.”

“Now, riddle me this.” You smiled, noting his full attention on you. His body language exuded calmness, and you felt secure in the knowledge that his comfort lies with you. “How do you not like courtly games? Personally, it makes my life all the more amusing.”

“I suppose it’s all jesting for you, princess.” Cregan said, his eyes resting on yours. “Amusement or not, I’d rather know where I stand…”

“With you, however…” His eyes trailed down to your bare shoulder, the white nightdress you’re wearing very much a sight of sore eyes. “I think I know.”

“Oh, do you?” you teased, cocking a brow. “And how so, pray tell?”

“Well…” he grunted, shifting in his seat to tighten the proximity around you two. “You’d do well not to cross any Northern man. They don’t take well to… courtly games.”

You only smiled at that, your upper body instinctively leaning in, albeit torturously slow.

“And, uh, suppose I… marry a Northern lord.” you teased quite coquettishly, a hand moving to rest on the thick fur coating his body. “What am I in for.”

You watched as his smirk only widened, gently taking the hand that rested on his fur, and taking it in his.

“Marry a Northern lord like me, and have your nights warmed under the thick fur of blankets.” he says, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles. “Northern loyalty runs deep, princess. That’s what you’d be in for.”

You nodded slowly, and you could not help but notice those coloured eyes of his descending onto your perky breasts.

Great, this was all going well so far. “I’d imagine… do you think he’d gift me a pup? I’ve always wanted a tiny pet, to keep.”

“Yeah?” The lord licked his lips, a hand resting on your waist. “You think you’d handle a wolf properly?”

“Well, I would.” you smiled, nodding in agreement. “I’m a dragon… and dragons do not surrender that easily.”

You smiled, shifting in your seat again as Cregan amusedly indulged you in your silly thoughts. “Just imagine it, my lord. I’d be holding that pup every night trying to get it to warm to me.”

Your hand slowly, but surely, trickled down to his clothed thigh, trying to maintain a sense of quiet intimacy.

“You’ll have your work cut out for you, then.” his voice lowered, bordering on husky. “Wolves aren’t so easily tamed, not even by someone with…”

He paused for a moment, a hand gently taking the one you placed on his thigh.

“…your charms.”

You’d have a cheeky comeback on the tip of your tongue, had it not been for Cregan’s lips descending upon yours, clashing together like Blackwoods and Brackens.

You let out a soft breath as you eased into the kiss, feeling his large hands grip your waists as if his life depended on it.

Your hands moved from his shoulders, to his neck, and then to his armoured chest. The armour he carried felt cold to your hands, yet it made it all the more sinful.

“Did you have this in mind?” you murmured against his lips, tongue circling his as you so sloppily attempted to kiss him. “Seducing me?”

The silence engulfed you two for a moment, only being overshadowed by the sound of soft breaths.

“You have it wrong, princess.” he breathed, firmly planting you upon his lap, your back pressing against his chest. “Do you take me for a halfwit?”

You smiled, looking over your shoulder as you attempted to chase his lips with yours again.

“No, but I certainly did not take you for a man so easily seduced.” you teased, guiding his hands to your clothed breasts. “You don’t seem the type to give in that easily.”

“Because it’s untrue.” he spoke up, lips brushing to against your neck. “But do you honestly think nothing would be done about the way you saunter around, looking as you do?”

His hands slowly tugged against your nightdress, pressing a hard kiss to your achy jaw before pulling away.

“Lay yourself down on the carpet.” he commanded, hands shifting to peel off his fur coat, along with his armour and tunic.

All you could do was nod and watch on as his armour went discarded on the floor, the metal material cranking against the stone ground.

His bare chest was now visible, the defining abs illuminated by the glowing fire. His hair messed up when he threw his tunic over his head.

“Cregan, I-"

And in one moment, you felt his large body overshadow yours, clashing lips again. Cregan lifted his body as to not crush you, hands on either side of your head.

You only permitted yourself to breathe unevenly, stead of moan. Your hands found his shoulders, desiring to pull him closer than possible.

“Ever since you’ve arrived you’d been nothing but trouble.” Cregan murmured, lips finding your throat. “Sauntering around with your ladies, endlessly teasing me.”

Your legs only shifted to wrap around his waist, back slowly arching at the kisses.

He took notice, and let one of his hands pin you down, lips descending towards your perky breasts.

“Gods, you’re wrong for this.” he grunted, swirling his tongue around the nipple. “For provoking me, as you did yesterday, and the day before that.”

“For thinking you have the authority to do this to a lord.” he breathed, your small breast fitting into his large palm.

“For…” he continued, kissing down your stomach, before ultimately glancing back at you “…thinking you’d get away with this.”

“I did not think I’d get away with this.” you tease, watching as he moves face-to-face again. “Which is why I did it.”

Your hands find his muscled arms, squeezing it gently. “I want to know how Northern men do it.”

You’d think you were jesting, but were you truly?

You’d have opened your mouth to say anything else, looking up at him, if it weren’t for the Northern lord himself roughly flipping you to your stomach.

“You wish to know, my princess?” he murmurs, unlatching his breeches. “You’d have your first time be with a Northman?”

You nodded, cheek resting on the carpet fabric without surrender. “Yes. Gods yes.”

He hiked your skirt around your waist, your plump ass visible to his peering eyes.

“You’ll be ruined for other men, aye.” He grunted, his hand wrapping around his rock hard cock.

“That’s good, because I desire no one save you.” you smiled, allowing him to lift your hips up and arch your back.

“Yeah?” he smirked, the tip of his cock rubbing against your damp hole. “You’ll have me make you my wife?”

You nodded, impatiently moving your hips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“You’d be a good wife, wouldn’t you?” he grunted once again, head finally pushing into your unloosened clit. “No Southern games, no poignant looks of yours.”

“You like that about me.” you painfully breathed, feeling the uncomfortable ache of his cock in your newly penetrated cunt.

His head descended, placing gentle kisses upon your shoulders. “A maiden. Perhaps you aren’t as well-equipped to handle a wolf as you said you were.”

“I am.” you protested, pushing your hips back. “Move your hips. I wish to prove myself.”

He only speeded up his thrusts, and as you allowed the moans to fill your lips, his hands found a way to push your head down.

“You’d carry my pups?” he asked, thrusting into you aggressively, pumping his cock in and out. “Wait on my cock every night?”

You only moaned incredulously, asscheeks clapping along with every snap of his hips.

“Yes.” you breathed, gasp and claps filling the room. “Fuck, put a babe inside of me. I want your children.”

“We’ll have to wed sooner, before the babe gets born in wedlock.” he grunted, hands gripping your hips, pushing you back onto his thick length. “But that’s what you wanted all along, was it?”

You gripped the fabric of the carpet, cheeks burning as it rubbed against the irritating carpet.

“For a thick cock such as this.” he teased, tugging at your hair.

“Yes.” you moaned pathetically, cheeks flushed as you felt a knot forming into your stomach.

Your lips parted, your eyes rolling above-ways.

“Yes, yes!” you moaned loudly, feeling his hands grope your breasts. “Fuck, you’re moving fast.”

“Never fast enough.” he murmurs, member sliding against your wet slit.

He could feel your tight walls clenching around him, milking his cock for all it is worth. His grip on you tightened as he thrust down to meet your upward motion.

And with one sharp thrusts, you felt the knot loosen and the cream dripping out your twitching clit.

Yet, he didn’t stop, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he rode you through your orgasm.

The feeling of your walls clenching around his cock was enough to send him reeling as well, burying himself deep inside of you.

Hot spurts of cum dripping out of your hole, you completely got yourself spent, closing your eyes and deciding you could just fall asleep on this carpet.

“No sleeping in the library.” he scolded lightly, putting on his fur coat, covering his naked physique. “Come here.”

You exhaustedly crawled over to him again, and snuck yourself into his coat, the clothing covering both of your naked bodies.

“I’m taking you to your chambers.” he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “And for the next time, do not attempt to get so exhausted. I went easy on you this time.”

[wyvernest]

cregan stark x f!targaryen!reader

previous(first) part - next part | all chapters list

>Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark.

cw: slow burn, fluff, eventual smut, angst, follows book events with slight deviations, im planning to let jacaerys live! every chapter is around 2k wc

chapter cw: tension, fluff, a little angst, they are starting to fall for eachother

“The ceremony will be held tomorrow.” Cregan’s deep and steely voice rings with an imposing echo onto the stone walls of the great hall of Winterfell. “My lady is worn from the journey.”

Although the order seemingly held some benevolence to your sore legs and southern blood barely adjusting to the newfound cold, his voice feels so detached that you find yourself wondering whether he truly did care for your spirits, or if he only wished it as a polite formality.

“I will take my leave before sundown, sister.” Jacaerys places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I must be back at Dragonstone before the new moon.”

“Ill news?” you ask, already troubled and feeling incapacitated from protecting and helping your family.

“Ser Criston Cole marches on Duskendale lands. I must be present at the council to take action.”

“What about me?” You worry, and only after speaking do you realize how stupid the question was.

Jacaerys takes a moment to reply, evidently not wanting to make you feel more secluded than you were.

“I will not make any decision that you wouldn't have in my stead.” He decides, “I will send you ravens to inform you, and represent you.” a pause, “unofficially.”

There is nothing more to be said. Any words he could sweeten end with the same inevitable finale. No raven could fly fast enough to deliver your ideas soon enough for the Greens not to gain an advantage over the reluctance of your team.

You are a pawn. Your dragon is a pawn. And you will only read about the war as if it were history before you could contribute.

“I understand.” You manage to let out without showing how disturbed you are and possibly making the northern lords think that you were terrified to marry their leader.

With a hug too frail to even begin to express how much you will miss him, your brother mounts his dragon after the welcoming festivities in the great hall and takes off with a blow of wings that normally would have had you taking a few steps back from Vermax.

But now it didn't matter anymore. You watch as your only friend dissolves into the skies thick with white clouds, becoming nothing but a raven in the distance.

Suvion cries out, a sharp, strained screech that only pain as great as yours could have caused, and the clouds answer, though you cannot see him anymore.

You are taken aback at the feeling of heavy pelts placed upon your shoulders, and only then you realize how cold you are. Your frigid fingers reach around your own neck to grasp at it and keep it from falling.

“The cold is treacherous. One moment you may think you're warm, and the following, your heart stops.” Cregan comes to stand next to you, looking away to where Vermax had disappeared.

“Thank you, my lord.” You speak coyly, quietly, so he wouldn't catch the crack in your voice and think you weak and soft. Perhaps in a different situation, you would have blushed at his kindness, but the ice wall you felt between you and him was now more palpable than ever. Alone, with a stranger.

“You should come inside.” He insists, but it is not advice, it's a courteous command.

Without a word, you turn and listen. You are escorted to your chamber in the castle, and as you pass through the halls, you look around like a lowborn in a dragonpit. At least that's what it must look like, but in your heart it was storming; how different the place was from what you have known your whole life, the people, the sounds in the yard, the very air of the keep.

He stops in front of your door, beckoning you inside.

“Send for me should you need anything your handmaiden cannot provide.”

His voice is softer, as if trying to indulge you and your loss. As if he understands.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Cregan.”

You do not know for certain if there truly is a gleam of affection in his eyes as he says it, but you do know that you held yourself back from leaning forward in his arms.

Oh, how you wanted to just let it out, and how you wanted him to hold you through it. To offer some comfort that, at least, he cared for you. That he wasn't a cold hearted man with nothing warmer than diplomatic skills. Whom you would have to learn how to love the hard way. Only you know how your heart briefly yearned for him to offer you strength.

But alas, it was not proper. Too soon.

“Cregan.” You accept, and he barely hears it. Your heart sinks when he nods politely and slowly shuts the door, and it sinks further at the sound of his boots on the cold stone outside your chamber, walking away.

A terribly tragic thought slips into your tired mind; that he is betrothed to you, yet his heart belongs to another. Northerners love northerners, and the Stark men have mostly married into vassal houses of the north in the past.

No matter how loyal he is to be from now, his thoughts will always be about her, the people will always know about her.

Suvion's head appears at your window, blocking out the moonlight.

“Oh, you,” You whine, opening the windows and laying your upper body on his snout.

You hear someone gasp and scream in the courtyard, no doubt because of the dragon clawing at the walls of the castle.

“We should find some place good for you. Somewhere safe and warm.” He growls sorrowfully, as if aware.

But it doesn't last long. As quickly as he came at the window, Suvion rips away from your touch and carefully leaps out of the castle yard and up into the night sky. His otherwise white scales now partly reflect the dark of night in their shine, making it impossible for you to even tell how high up he was.

Alone again. You knew he wouldn't go far, that he only needed to hunt and come back, but you wished for leverage that was now gone.

Restless and troubled, you decide to take a stroll around the keep that is to be yours in less than a day.

You follow your curiosity back to the great hall, from where you hear whispered voices and see glimmers of lit torches.

“...of the beast. Food is scarce.”

“It will set eyes upon us.”

“Lord Glover, this is necessary. I do not wish-”

The lords at the table turn abruptly at the sight of the shadow you cast into the obscured hall.

“My lady. Is everything alright?” You hear Cregan's voice, his face away from light.

You feel embarrassed and stupid, interrupting a clearly important talk of resources that did not yet concern you and making the impression of a spoiled, uneducated woman.

“No- I didn't mean to intrude.”

“You could never be intruding on talks of our domain.” He attempts to soothe your nerves, although the implication of responsibilities is indomitable in his tone.

You approach them, carefully eyeing the other lords, feeling quite literally akin to a lizard slithering into a den of wolves. You cannot read anything on their stern faces, and it doesn't fail to make you uneasy and put your guard up.

“The dragon, my lady,” one of them starts, a man well past his youth, “he is a welcomed weapon in the North, although -”

“Although it is true that war has brought us both here, my lord, a dragon is not a weapon.” You warn with a poised expression, as respectfully as you could, yet fire dripped from your words.

The other men frowned in surprise and disapproval, but said nothing. You glance at Cregan, by your side, hoping to be faced with kindness, but instead your heart skips a beat at the sight of a cutthroat look he was throwing at the men, protective of your contribution.

“-apologies. The dragon is a welcomed ally. But livestock is barely enough to get us through what's to come. What are we to offer? Sheep?”

“We have endured harsher winters with lesser than we have today.” Your betrothed reassures, despite the evident growing concern.

“Suvion is big enough to hunt for himself, I dare say. The cold doesn't seem to burden him. There is absolutely no need to thin out the herd for him, my lords.”

You struggle to conceal a sharp gasp when his hand runs up your lower back. A way to show approval of your input, no doubt, yet you find that every crumble of affection he grants you is more than enough to spark fire in your body. Is that what you have come to?

You were worried enough that the rough stoicism of the north man wouldn't provide half the love you dreamed of, yet now you falter on that thought. If such a touch is already setting you alight, what would more do?

“A good omen. Prince Velaryon’s first visit wasn't as uneventful.”

“It is settled then. We will discuss other matters after the wedding.” He commanded, and your stomach flipped at the mention of your union.

With the lords out of the room, Cregan turns to you.

“I thought you would be resting. It's near the hour of the ghosts.” He speaks gently with a warm vibration in his voice, as if you have been wedded for years and he knows all about your practices and nature.

“I couldn't. The more I lay there waiting, the more it felt like I would never find sleep again.”

A faint smile lights up your tense visage, an instinctual way of wanting to see him soften as well.

He looks intently, clearly understanding of your friendliness, but it does nothing to soothe his brow further.

“Come. I wish to speak with you, since neither of us cannot find slumber.”

Neither of us? What is that supposed to mean?

You once again hook your arm around his, his body heat immediately warming you up and putting you at ease. He leads you into his chambers, a strong fire already lit in the hearth.

“Is this proper?”

“Whoever shall dare speak ill of my wife will never speak again.”

A shiver runs up your spine. Whether it's a pleasant or a distressed one, you cannot tell anymore.

“I know how you must feel, although it may not seem like it.” He begins, beckoning you to sit on the edge of the bed. “It's the duty that comes with the name.”

“Yes.” You agree, wanting to hear more of what he wishes to tell you. “Although my biggest concern lies with my position. I feel…” You cease before you could say something like “trapped” or “exiled”. He has been nothing but good to you since you arrived and you do not want to seem ungrateful or hostile. You do like him.

But before you could find the right words, he kneels in front of you on the floor and takes your hands in his. Your heart stops. Your brain shuts down. Gods.

“-powerless.” He untangles your mind and finishes your thought. “But you aren't. We will offer help, I do not intend to trample the oath I swore to your brother. The oath I am to swear to you.” He adds, his tone is soft and tender yet his words so meaningful and heavy, you hear them as though their echo reverberated in the entire room around you.

His thumb delicately rubs over your knuckles, his expression as stoic as ever, only his actions speak differently. He leans forward and places a kiss on the back of your hand, assuring and loving.

You draw in a sharp breath, as if you haven't felt affection before in your life.

“Cregan.” is all you manage.

“It is true that this union was made with interest. But you are not unwanted, my lady. I believe we will find more than allies in each other.”

TAGS!! im sorry for those that don't work its tumblr's fault i checked all of them multiple times

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@squidscottjeans @itchkhiara @klutzylaena @heylittlelollita @scrumptiousloser @karmaswitch

[earth4angels]

𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

modern!jacaerys x f!reader ─── smut, vanilla sex, jace is a mama's boy, a lil english major who's serious about his academics, basically a goodie two shoes. reader is an adventurous cheerleader babe. p in v, love making as secretly as possible with his family at home (i know theyre freaky). not fully edited.

summary: finals season has arrived and jacaerys is worried about his championship game and passing his classes. he just did not think you would change the way of how studying could even work.

jace nation tag list: @jacaerysgf @star611 @jules420 @intheheartoftheking @gracexthoughts @astrxq @reyndaisy @hxtd @smurfelle @nanaldy @valdezthg @littleblackcatinwonderland @nixtape-foryou @starrgurl46 @ethereal-athalia @stelleduarte @canyonmoon-2 @ambrosia-v-black @chuuritoz @melsunshine @frombloodandfire

“Get it together jace,” Jacaerys muttered, his hands running through his already messy hair. His fingers tapped rapidly through the page of his text book as if the answers were going to appear magically to him.

“Jace. Mom has been calling you to eat for the past fifteen minutes, you know she hates lateness,” Lucerys stood by the doorway of his brother’s room a slight smirk on his face as he looked at his brother who now slammed his face onto the book.

“Geesh… and I thought I was terrible, you’re even worse,” Luke joked. Jacaerys only moved his head to peek at his younger brother before he threw a pen at his head.

“Get out Luke, tell Mom I am no-“

“Tell me what exactly? If you think I am going to let you go to sleep without eating, you are absolutely wrong my dear,” Rhaenyra crossed her arms, a stern look on her face that had Jacaerys scrambling on his feet to meet her.

“Sorry mother,” he muttered, he scratched his neck before he twirled his fingers around, Rhaenyra sighed. She entered the room with soft steps, Jacaerys had now stopped his nervous ticks the moment he felt his mother’s touch.

“You got this my sweet boy. You’re the bravest, and smartest boy, I have raised you well. I know you will finish strongly, or am I wrong?”

Jacaerys widened his eyes, “No mother.”

Rhaenyra ran her fingers through the mess of hair, she smiled softly, “Now, wash up. Your brothers are waiting for you, Daemon bought that movie you and Luke begged him to buy.”

Luke exclaimed excitedly before he ran down the hall to the dining room, Rhaenyra and Jace heard him thanking their step-father over and over. They chuckled together.

As Jace scored the winning goal, the team swallowed him onto the ground, he groaned. He only wanted to see the one person that motivated him, that came to every single one of his games to cheer for him loudly that he felt no trophy could ever top the love he had for you.

The crowd cheered loudly, Jace managed to escape the sweaty bodies of his teammates before he was wrapped with a warmth so familiar, he knew it was you. He caught you in his arms the moment you ran up to him, your smile making him feel weak in the legs. He would bring the world and the stars for you if you’d ask.

Your pom-poms covered both of your faces as you leaned down to kiss him, since you had jumped on him, your legs wrapped around his waist - he held you up, his arms tightly holding your thighs, pressing you close. Your rosy lipstick now stained his already plump lips.

He groaned in satisfaction, you pulled away, giggling when he chased you for another kiss, “Congratulations Targaryen, you’re now going to the championship game.”

He smiled stupidly, from where he was looking at you, you looked like a bright star, your hair was held back by a headband that matched the color of his jersey. Your eyes covered in shiny glitter that he helped put on before the game because according to him, he wanted to try to put some on you. You were beautiful, and all his.

He leaned up to kiss you deeply, feeling your fingers dig deep into the slightly wet curls of his. The world vanished then, and Jacaerys wanted you more than ever, but it was not a place where he wanted to devour you.

You pulled away, he groaned again in annoyance, “Hold on tiger. You stink. And your mother and brothers are waiting to celebrate your win.”

He opened his eyes to see you with a teasing face, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion, you had a cunning smile. He did not want to question it yet so he placed you back onto the floor, without saying a word he took your hand interlacing it with his, both of you meeting his overly excited family that covered him in confetti. He thought life couldn’t get any more better than this.

His bed bounced as pushed his glasses upward, stopping them from slipping off his nose. He knew you were with him, but he paid you no mind as he mumbled the words from the slides to himself.

You leaned your head onto his shoulder, watching him study the same presentation over and over. You sat beside him, quietly biting onto your cinnamon roll that Rhaenyra begged you to take to Jace as well since she knew he was bound to skip dinner.

“Jace.”

“Hm,” he nodded his head slightly, letting you know he was listening to you. He truly was not though, he had a pen between his teeth biting on the top cap. You sighed.

“Jace.”

“Mm,” again he responded nonchalantly.

You rolled your eyes having enough. You took the laptop from him, shutting it close as you tossed it lightly onto his bedside table. You watched him widened his eyes, his arms reached to fight you but you beat him as you pushed him down onto the bed, sitting right on top.

His glasses moved upward, touching his forehead just a bit. You chuckled as he groaned in annoyance nonetheless his hands moved to hold your waist.

“Y/n… I need to study… you know I have to get good scores on the finals to keep my spot as top student.”

You smiled softly, your hands trailing down his chest to the toned body of his. His eyes fluttered, he enjoyed you touching him, he squirmed under you feeling his erection grow. He was shy to admit that even the slightest things you would do made him excited.

“You studied enough. You and I both know you’ll pass. Just how we also know, you will win the game,” Your fingers reached up to his face, pulling his glasses back to its original spot, you had always loved him with glasses. He huffed softly, his eyes moving upwards to try and avoid your strong gaze that had him digging his fingers softly into your waist.

“You’re only human jace, give yourself breaks hm?”

“I hate when you’re right,” he mumbled.

You laughed, tapping his nose lightly. His eyes moved back to your face, you leaned down to place a soft kiss on his nose you felt him breathe in deeply. He moved his head to reach your lips where he captured your warm lips with his.

You sighed into his mouth, enjoying the way his tongue licked your bottom lip. Your lips parted giving him access to taste you, he moaned when he got a taste of the sweetness from the bun you ate.

With his teeth, he pulled your bottom lip, sucking it lightly, you let him grinding your hip against his hardening erection hidden under the sweatpants you wanted to get rid of.

You rubbed harder, your panties now soaked from the need of wanting him. He let go of your lips as he let out a whimper. You sat on top still rubbing, twisting your hips in small circles to entice him. With half lidded eyes and small drool on the corner of his lips you wanted him so much more than before.

“Shh. I’ve got you,” you whispered, you ran your tongue down his neck finding a spot only you knew ruined him.

Right above his ear, in between his collarbone you placed a kiss and then you sucked hard, enjoying the small whimpers he let out. His hands working fast but clumsily pulling and tugging the straps of your sundress. He needed you, now.

He swallowed, “Please my love. Off,” he tugged the straps hard.

You heard a tear of fabric between your soft kisses that you left on his neck, you breathed in a laugh. You pushed him hard onto the bed, he grunted, you leaned back on your feet enjoying the flush on his cheeks, the curls surrounding him making him look angelic.

The sun was barely going down, and with the little sunlight still left, it touched Jace’s skin, his bright brown eyes covered by his slight fogged glasses from the amount of heavy breathing he was doing.

“Y/n… please…” he whispered, licking his lips watching you slowly tug down the straps, pulling down your bra as well. You watched him gasp slightly, taking in the view of the delicacy of your skin.

“Seven hells… how did I get so lucky?”

You hummed, getting rid of your dress completely, only sitting on top of him in your lace panties. He watched you hungrily, ready to bounce on you but held back, he wanted to take his time with you. Kiss all the little freckles on your body, find new spots that made you whisper his name as in a prayer.

He wanted to find all the new things that made your body quiver, flourish in his hands, his mouth. His mouth suddenly felt dry, he wanted to taste you so bad.

You smiled wickedly, your hand reached forward, grabbing his index cards he had also written to study. You looked through them fast before you tossed them somewhere on the floor.

Leaning forward, you grabbed his hands, placing them on your breasts, sighing blissfully when out of habit his thumbs flicked your now perked buds.

“Every right answer you give me, you’ll be allowed to touch me,” you whispered, smiling even wider when you felt him twitch underneath you.

Jacaerys was competitive, and he wanted to have you so badly but he also wanted to prove to you he was smart. He thought this was better than any study group he ever had, his fingers twitched against your breasts, wanting them deep in your cunt just to watch you bend in an angelic position, all because of him.

For once, he was greedy, he wanted to watch you have power over him. He licked his lips again, anticipating every moment that will occur. He thanked the old gods and new for gifting him you.

“First question,” you sat with his hands still on your breasts, enjoying the lust on your boyfriend’s eyes, the way sweat started to form on his forehead, the twitch of his eyebrow as he tried to read you, to the way his lips parted, his breaths coming out in sharp huffs.

“Name all the kings we had, from first king to now.”

Jacaerys struggled, he regretted now the position he was in, he couldn’t focus having you bare only in silk panties, your skin glowing, hair loose and curled at the tips. He just wanted to make love to you. He held his breath, his hands shaking, noticing, you smirked.

“Uh.. Um…” he cleared his throat, his eyebrows slightly scrunched together as he tried to think, “Aegon, the conqueror,” you hummed.

You let his hand go down the middle of your breast, to your stomach, hearing his breath hitched you stopped.

“I uh… Aenys,” he stuttered, finding it hard to stay still.

Again, you moved his hand to your navel, letting go of his hand as you waited for the rest of the answer to come out of your struggling boyfriend who remained obedient.

“Maegor, Jaehaerys, Viserys…” his voice straining.

You smiled, “Good job my love. See? The answers are flowing out of you.” You stood up then, he sat up quickly, his body in heat running with adrenaline from wanting you. Your fingers pulled the bands of your panties to slide them off your legs. Jacaerys’ mouth fell slack.

You tapped your finger to your chin as in thought, you moved as you spoke to sit on his lap, your legs spread on either side of his own. “Ah.. why is the reason that dragons are the symbol of the Targaryen family?”

Jacaerys tried, he truly did want to show off his intelligence but he couldn’t concentrate anymore. How could he concentrate when he had you on his lap, nude, your curls falling onto your shoulders giving you a glow so beautiful he was breathless.

“Seven hells y/n, I can’t do this,” he moved so quick you were startled that you ended up bumping your head onto his headboard. His eyes panicked, the lust from his eyes softening, “Baby, baby i am so sorry!”

You laughed loudly, taking his face into your hands where you pulled him to give him a kiss. He moaned into your mouth, his hands pulling your hands above your head, interlocking it with his.

“You didn’t answer the question Jacaerys,” you muttered into his lips. He moaned in annoyance over the fact you kept pulling away from him when all he wanted was to shower you with love.

“No offense, but you talk a lot my love, I just want you,” Jace fluttered his eyes, looking down on you his light brown eyes shadowed with a mischievous glint that had you swallow.

“Yeah?”

He nodded, his glasses sliding down more, you pushed them up again, his curls were a mess and damn… he looked ethereal. He was all yours, the pride in your chest swelled as as the love you felt for him did too.

You both smiled at each other before he kissed you again, his lips grazing your cheeks, eyebrows, forehead, everywhere he could touch, you giggled. Jacaerys felt like he could fly, the need to feel you, to connect with you felt heavy on his head.

He took a moment to observe the environment, he was quick, in a moment he heard everything, the laughter of his younger brothers, the sound of his mother talking over the phone. His cheeks blossoming crimson, the idea of having you while his family were so close bought an excitement to him.

He nibbled on your neck before whispering, “We have to keep quiet, mom…” he paused, feeling embarrassed, “anyone can hear us if we’re loud.”

You smirked, feeling the heat boil, “then try not to make me scream out,”

Jacaerys pulled away his eyebrows furrowed as if you said something offensive, “Oh? If i don’t, then I am not deserving of you my angel.”

Everything happened so fast, Jacaerys felt like he only blinked for a second, one second he was tasting you, leaving small marks on your neck then he was under you again, his chest bare, his boxers suddenly feeling hot.

You sat on top again, licking your lips admiring the work you made, a wet kiss on his chest turning red. Jacaerys felt sweat drip from his forehead, he needed to have you, now. But, he knew the reward would soon calm if he was patient - though he did not want to wait.

“Tell me my love, why are dragons the symbol of your family? If they are myth, why is it symbolic?”

Jacaerys rolled his eyes as his head tilted back, “Are you… Are you serious?” he whined, he thought he escaped this.

You tighten your lips together to hold back from laughing, “Oh i am serious babe. Now answer, or else.. I’ll go downstairs and play with Joff, i’ll ignore you all day.”

Jacaerys for the sake of his bulge feeling like it was ready to explode, tried.

He closed his eyes, scanning memories of the information he studied, “It was said that Targaryens are closer to the gods due to their faith in old traditions. Dragons are a symbol of power but also peace. Our family-“ suddenly he hissed, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Your teeth pulled the band of his boxers down, as your hand’s massaged the muscular thighs of his, you paused when you heard nothing but hard breathing, “I didn’t tell you to stop Jacaerys.”

He whimpered, “Dear gods…” he cleared his throat, “Our family symbol being dragons is to remind us of our history, to remind us why helping our people is also building a foundation for a better future, that is why our law firm is uh-“ he moaned when he felt your lips kissing up his toned chest.

“Our law firm is the most popular, and is one of the first establishments holding a strong position in justice.”

You stopped, Jacaerys was breathing hard as if he had ran through a marathon, “You really need to stop overthinking you won’t pass your exams, you are smart.”

Pressing a slight kiss on his lips, you sat up again, “Good job baby,” you moved his shaky hand to your body again, however Jacaerys had other plans, he sat up meeting you face to face.

“You are the world’s best person to ever grace us, I am so lucky to have you,” he whispered all the while his fingers grazed the apple of your cheeks, you couldn’t avoid the amount of love his eyes held you just needed him. The sexual tension between you was too strong to ignore.

“Jace..”

He pushed your hair back, his eyes mapping out the beauty marks on your face. You were so beautiful, he would never once stop repeating it, “I love you, with every ounce of my heart,” and that was when your heart flew out of your chest.

He laid you onto his bed, both of you shaking with need to have each other. His lips traced every bump, every inch of your body until he reached the valley of your breasts. The metal of his glasses making your skin crawl with goosebumps.

“All mine,” he whispered. His fingers traced the perky buds of your breasts before he took one in his mouth, moaning as if he was having the best dessert - in a way he was. Your body lifted from the bed, mind clouded with him only.

“Jace,” you pleaded now, needing him to stop his slow pace, you just needed him inside you. You felt him shudder at the way you said his name.

He pulled back, your eyes shaking in need but Jace was worse, his eyes filled with need, hidden behind those glasses of his he was overwhelmed with the love he had for you.

You felt his bulge nudge your core causing you to tilt your head back, moaning softly, you heard the gasping of your boyfriend who struggled what to do next. He never wanted to rush into things but he needed you, he wanted to explore more of you but he just needed to be inside, to carefully love you and show you.

You made the decision to guide him, you and Jacaerys were not always active, majority of your relationship was very innocent and you didn’t complain, simply being in the arms of your boyfriend was enough. Jacaerys only needed you close to feel the love you felt for him as he did you.

He never disrespected you, always showed you respect and love in small and big ways. His family adored you, with his mom already calling you her daughter she never had. Daemon adored your stubbornness, mentioning how you reminded him of his younger days. To Jace, that was enough.

So when you guided him inside of you, feeling the tip of his erection inside you, both of you gasped, holding each other in desperate need of love. He shook in your arms as your legs wrapped around his waist, he didn’t move feeling too overwhelmed from your heat.

“t’s okay,” you whispered, your heart full, and as you locked eyes with the one man who you swore your life to, he pushed all the way in, the tears seeping from your eyes.

He held you in his arms tightly, whimpering as you tugged the wet curls of his, pulling out and pushing in with such care that had you breathing out choked sobs from the love you felt. He only prepped small kisses, whispering the love he held for you.

“I love you, I love you,” he whispered into your mouth, his hands wiping the tears from your cheeks, feeling his own pool. Your fingers marked half moons onto his shoulde blades, marking beautiful trails of your love as he pushed into you harder, faster.

You removed his glasses then, finally coming to face his eyes that were scrunched together in concentration and if it was another occasion you would’ve laughed but you kissed his face holding onto him as your noses bumped into each other clumsily.

“You feel so g-good,” he muttered, his hand holding onto your right hand, you said nothing as you took him in, feeling the little bubble in your tummy ready to release.

“J-Jace,” you stuttered, squealing when he finally hit that one spot inside you, “OH! Don’t stop… donnn-t stop.”

He knew you were close, you held onto his hair tighter, your eyes rolled onto the back of your head as you bent your neck all the way back displaying your entire neck to him. He pushed harder, making it a mission to have you see stars, he watched you carefully, hearing how you muttered his name like a prayer.

He was so close, but he held back, his cheeks were warm, as he felt the need to come inside you with just watching you wither in his embrace. All that was heard was the bed squeaking, the headboard of his bed slamming against the wall, and as much as he wanted to keep it quiet, he couldn’t. He just needed you.

“My pretty angel, all mine,” he whispered again, he had let go of your hand reaching down on your sensitive bud where he rubbed in circles, you moaned loudly and he reacted so fast he covered your mouth with his as he swallowed your slight screams.

He felt the stutter of your hips and the shocks that your body was going through, and suddenly he felt the tightness of your warmth wrapping him hard that his chest felt on fire.

He closed his eyes allowing the pleasure to sweep him out of the world, with one last push he allowed to come inside you hearing you sigh in bliss, your body still shaking, the tears dry on your cheeks.

You held Jace against you, brushing his hair back, hearing him try to level his breathing back to normal. You did not want him to pull out of you but you needed to pee.

He kissed your breasts before he slowly pulled out, both of you shuddering, he then kissed you deeply. He said nothing, but neither did you, both of you basking in the love.

You watched as he pulled you into his arms, carrying you into his bathroom, he looked beautiful. You sat in the toilet as he prepared a bath, and took the moment when he went to get you clothes to pee.

When he came back he had a hoodie of his and a pair of boxers for you to wear, you childishly made grabby hands, he chuckled before he pulled you to the bath tub with him.

The silence was comfortable, until a thought hit you, “Jace?”

You leaned your head back to look at him, he was smiling with his eyes closed, “Yeah?”

“I think.. I saw Luke’s feet at some point by the door,”

Jace snapped his eyes open in a panic, one look at you, who looked at him with your own set of eyes that held panic, he laughed loudly, you joined him.

Lucerys did in fact stopped by his brother’s door, he only wanted to ask if you wanted to play mario’s kart, but that flew out the window when he heard his brother’s moans. So he sat in the family room with a traumatized look on his face thinking he wished dragons were real so he can ask to get eaten instead.

[bks-writing-adventures]

His Strong Girl (Aemond X Strong! Reader)

Warnings: Brief mentions of bullying and gore, brief mentions of sex, Alicent being a momzilla.

Word Count: 6.5 K

Summary: Aemond has always loved his Strong Girl, she's nearly of age to mary, and he wants her before anyone else can have her.

120 AC

As children, Aemond had always loved her. Even though he knew that he should not. His mother filled his brain with poison, to hate Rhaenyra and all that was part of her, and that included her children. The Strong children, all four of them. It was easy to hate Jace and Luke. They teased him. They found him a pig and called him the second son. They laughed at him and kept them out of their fun. They were kind to the other children in the court, but for reasons he could not understand, he was different. It was so hard on his young brain. He was all that he was supposed to be. H

e could read and write, he had light hair and light eyes. He always prayed at dinner time, and he always wore clean clothes, always had his hair brushed. He did all of his lessons. So what ever could be wrong with him? When Joffrey came along, it was easy to hate him, too. There was no doubt that he would grow into the sculpting hands of his older brothers. As soon as he would talk, he would be name calling and lying too. But when it came to her. Well, it was impossible. 

Her eyes were warm and kind, muddy brown like her brothers and her father. There was a small distance of age between them, a year and a half, but he could hardly tell. She was smart for her age. She was not puzzled by her lessons, and she listened well, could smile and nod. She cut her own food and lived in her own world. He kept his distance for a long time, whenever the whole family was forced together for weddings and funerals. But slowly, like butter beneath rays of sun, he warmed. He grew calm in her presence and peeled back his layers to be vulnerable.

To meet her in the library when she was in her pyjamas, and to whisper gossip that they had picked up in the halls. He had two sides of him. The side that hated the Strongs, and the side that loved. He was good at making sure they did not cross, that was, until the day his aunt died. He never knew much of her. He knew that she was pretty and powerful and rode the greatest dragon in the world. But he did not cry for her. He only stayed quiet as the respects were paid, and his eyes wandered the mourners for her. 

She was caught up between her brothers and their cousins. Black looked odd on her. She always wore pink or blue, maybe red, but hardly ever. Despite being half Targaryen, she had no like for the color. She was all about pastels and ruffles and frilliness. He frowned as he watched, and the feet between them felt like miles. As the group looked over to him, he offered an awkward grin, only to be returned with nothing. His heart sunk deeper into his body, and he tried to give her a light wave, to grab her attention.

But there was nothing he could do, and he could feel her slowly slipping from his fingers. Disappointment ate away at him, and he said nothing to her the entire day. And she made no effort to talk to him, either. And so when evening came and he was alone, with no gossip to speak of in the library, and no puzzles to put together, he found himself in the dragon pit. Tiptoeing carefully, listening to the snore of beasts who had survived all of the worlds wars. The scratch of their claws against stone, and finally, the hiss of fire as it nearly caressed his face. 

The sight of Vhagar was one unmatched, and he moved as though he were being controlled, a mere puppet of the gods as he slowly climbed the scaly creature. He screamed into the wind as it lapped at his hair, and he laughed with joy as they landed with a thump and a roar. All that he was missing in his life was against his palms, and his skin burned with the leather of the saddle. His heart had gone above the clouds, and it hadn’t come down, even as his shaky feet hit the floor, a smile bigger than he had ever worn stretched across his face as he moved to scurry away and back to bed.

He would tell his mother in the morning. She would be so proud. But fate had something else brewing for him, and he was met with the sight of his nephews and his cousins. He clung to the words he had heard from his mothers lips, and he threw them mindlessly as fists collided in the air. He did not remember half of it. And he did not know when it would end, gripping blindly at whatever he could find. A stone the size of his foot, lifting it above his head quickly, every one of his cells begging him to go through with the action. It could have only been a second, maybe not even. 

From the moment he saw the dagger in his little nephews hand, he knew that this was all over. This temporary shot of joy, and it died like a flame to ash as blood soaked his hand. He couldn’t hear his scream, but he could feel it deep in his lungs as he smacked against the ground, clawing at it. He shouted profanities as the guards dragged him to the maesters. He stared at his mothers face, and he sat still as he was surrounded by all of his family. And as he prayed for comfort, he was met with only fighting.

Shouting back and forth between his mother and sister, his father was of no help, and every other moment he was stabbed with a needle, his mouth curling at the feeling as his nails scratched against the armrest of the chair. He knew the eye was gone, but seeing it laying broken in a dish like the bad parts of a chicken. It broke him, and he stared at the wall as blood hit the floor, and when he was finally asked where he had heard the words he shouted, he stared at his mother. Her brows were furrowed, a deep crevasse in the middle. Her brown eyes were shining with a mix of sadness and fury, a touch of fear as she looked over at him. He swallowed his pain and spoke a lie.

 “Aegon.” He whispered out, and shut his eye for the rest to come. The last thing he remembered of that night was the look on her face, and the way her fingers curled, as if she wished to reach out and touch him, only to be quickly whisked away by Rhaenyra and Daemon. That was the night he decided his mother was right about them. All of them. Even his sweet, Strong girl. Because if she were truly strong, she would have come to him. Despite their orders, she would’ve comforted him. But instead, he was alone. Alone and scarred. 

127 AC

When he learned that his sister and her bastard children would be coming to his home, he tried his best to act as normal as he could. He ate his breakfast of pork and eggs, sharpened his sword and trained with Ser Criston. He ignored the groans of his brother, and watched quietly as his sister bounced her babies on her legs. He could almost smile. But he knew exactly how the children came to be. And if Aegon were not his brother, Aemond would have his head on the wall. Dread grew in his stomach as the sun reached its peak, and he hit against Criston’s sword with the ferocity of a thousand men. With every strike, he thought of the night he lost his eye. He thought of the dagger against his skin, the way he was treated so coldly, and how she had done nothing. And every night after that he felt as though he were frozen, reliving the moment over and over. He could feel the pain in his cheek and forehead with every twitch in his lips. 

Soon, the Prince promised he would stop smiling altogether, because maybe then, the pain would stop. And so when he saw his nephews, he stared them down, like a wolf to a rabbit. He liked to watch their discomfort, but his gaze, much to his distaste, softened when he caught sight of her behind them. She had grown beautiful with the years that had passed. Her once chubby cheeks were still round and flushed from the cool air, and her brown curls were pulled back by pins. She wore a pink gown that leaned toward purple, a bit dusty in its tone, covered in small swirls and patterns that he could not process from where he stood. His sweet girl. Her eyes were large, and freckles covered her. He didn’t remember her ever having freckles before, and it took Criston’s voice to break him from his trance.

 “You will be ready for the tourneys in no time, My Prince,” the Knight spoke, to wish he scoffed. 

“I do not give a shit about tourneys,” He responded, his voice quiet and cold. He did not see the pint in galloping around on a horse, fighting other men and yelling like animals, all for the attention of ladies that were as shallow as a tide pool. No. He would save himself for her, if she would have him. And he was certain she would.

 “Nephews, have you come to train?” He asked, his voice louder than before, brows raised. Jace turned to look at his younger brother, and their faces paled. They were afraid, and the thought made Aemond’s heart fill with joy. He threw his sword to the dirt for his men to pick up later. 

“And what of you, niece?” He asked, turning his head to look at her. Jace moved his shoulder to create a wall between them, but it did nothing for her curious eyes. She simply stood on her tiptoes, looked at him, and smiled. The sight brought a smirk to his lips, and when he walked to his chambers, he did so with a newfound confidence. He was quick to change into his outfit for the evening, one that covered every inch of his body, not even his wrists exposed. It made him feel better. As if it hid everything under. As if he were not still the runt of the litter. Even with all his training, he could never seem to grow.

He would always be the smallest of his kin, but what he lacked in size, he could make up for in skill. He could hardly wait for the evening meal. He was not hungry, but he was thrilled. To see her, to tease her. And maybe, if he were lucky, she would meet him in the library like old times. As he paced back and forth, he practically counted down the minutes until the sun finally fell. He groaned as they gathered for yet another meeting, but he could put up with it, if it meant seeing her. 

She stood beside her mother, and it was only then that he could see a hint of resemblance between them. They had the same way of standing, and they were close in height. They shared a curved nose and a cunning gaze, but she only wore it softer. She had not yet seen violence, she had not watched the light fall from a mans eyes. She had not yet lost a love, and he could see her smile softly as the betrothals of her brothers were announced. He relished in the way that she nudged her brothers and gave them a teasing raise of brow before she remembered her surroundings, trying to return to her previously serious demeanor.

A smile pulled at his lips, and his eye narrowed as he stared at her, compelling her to look up at him. Please. He thought to himself, feeling his heart leap as their eyes met. She was just so beautiful. But the peace of her gaze was quickly broken when Vaemond began to speak of their heritage, and Aemond watched in displeasure as her brows furrowed, as her big eyes stared at the floor in shame. 

The others, he could smile at. But to see her caught in the fight, to see her be called names.

 It disgusted him. His back stiffened, and he bit his tongue. He would have plenty of time to speak to her later, to hold her in the years to come, to fuck the bastardy out of her. But he would have to wait. His hands curled in on themselves, and in a fraction of a moment, Vaemond was gone. His head hit the floor with a sloppy thump, Helaena turned away, her eyes huge and her hands on her head, and he watched as his Strong Girl practically mirrored her, her thumbs pressed against her ears and her fingers over her eyes. He sighed, staring at the body on the floor, his gaze slowly following the bloody sword until he was gazing at his uncle. Daemon. An interesting man he was. And slowly, Aemond smiled. This would be an interesting night. 

When dinner time came, he took his seat and looked at the rest of the table. Baela and Rhaena, Rhaenyra and Daemon, and next to them, there she was. He smiled a little to himself. They always did that, sitting around her like a human shield, practically hiding her from his view. He followed his mothers words as she called for prayer, and he smiled to himself as his mother spoke of Vaemond Velaryon. The old man could never shut his mouth. The food came out in small rounds, starting with potatoes and bread, and he gazed at her as he licked the remnants of potato from his thumb.

Her eyes were so big, and he loved watching her cheeks get nice and flushed. And even more, he loved seeing how angry her brothers got, all while her mother remained clueless. When the main course came out, he stared in silence as the roasted pig sat in front of him. He could tell how this was going to go, lifting his head to stare right at Luke, seeing the beginning’s of a smile on his mouth. His hands curled into fists, and just as he moved to stand, she spoke. “Luke. Do not be impolite,” She whispered softly. She was soft and sweet, but she had such a bold presence to her when she wanted it. 

“But-” Luke began, and she gently shook her head. “Eat your carrots. Mother said to be on our best behavior,” She said softly, reaching over to start cutting his soft boiled carrots up. Aemond frowned, slowly leaning back. He had so much anger to release, and no real reason to release it. She was a gem, that girl. She could so easily diffuse a situation. She was the type of woman that she be on the throne. They could share it together, one day. As the evening grew old and their stomachs were full, the music began to flow delicately on the harps. As soon as he saw Jace’s eyes brighten, he stood, walking around the table like a shark circling a helpless seal, placing his hands on the back of her chair. 

“Aemond,” His mother spoke up, her voice filled with caution as she sat up straight. “Do not worry, mother. I only wish to know if my lovely, strong girl wants to dance with me,” He responded, his fingertips moving across her curls. Rhaenyra bit her cheek, and he could feel the tension growing like a cage. 

“I dare you to say that again,” Jacaerys spoke, his hands flat on the table. 

“Brother,” She said softly, gazing back at him. Their eyes met for nearly ten seconds, and finally, he looked away. “I will dance with you,” She spoke, pulling her chair from the table and gently taking his hand. “If you promise not to stomp on my toes,” She says, teasing him a little as he pulled her to the stone tiles. 

“I will do my very best,” He whispered, his hands curling around hers. Her touch was so delicate, and he found himself taking a small whiff of her wrist. Raspberries and cashews. It was a unique scent, but it was hers. He wanted to bathe in it, paint it onto his pillow. “I have missed you,” He said softly. And he had. He often found himself dreaming of the possibilities. Of bringing Vhagar to her bedroom window. Of taking her to the skies and bringing her to the forest, where they were not a Prince and a Princess, but only teenagers in love. “You will be a woman grown soon,” He said softly, his thumbs rubbing circles into her palms as he spun her under his arms. It would only be eight months before they were the same age, and it was only eight months before she would finally be on the marriage market. He just had to make his claim before anyone else could.

 “I know,” She said softly, her fingers trailing to the cuffs on his wrist, touching the golden dragons with her gentle strokes. “I feel as though I was 9 only yesterday,” She mumbled, and he smiled in return. 

“Tell me about it,” He mumbled, his hands moving down to her waist, his touch gentle. His eye wandered to the necklaces she wore, the ones that layered. The shortest was to her collarbone, and the longest was just between her breasts. A seahorse. A Velaryon symbol, something that didn’t belong to her, and they all knew it. His fingers slowly wandered to it, his thumb rubbing against the emerald eyes and the golden details. “This is a symbol of your fathers house, is it not?” He asked softly. His fingers slowly wandered up to cup her face, his fingers against her jaw, licking his lips.

 “It is a symbol of the sea,” She said quietly, and he could see the turmoil in her eyes. He could feel the gaze of his family on him, and he knew they would not be pleased. But his mother was simply delighted, a scheming smile on her face.

 “You like the sea, my lady?” He mumbled softly. They were hardly dancing anymore, he was just holding her close, holding her face, his thumb pressing against her lips. 

“Who does not?” She asked softly, smiling a bit. She was always so sweet when she spoke of the sea, and he could see so much excitement in his eyes.

 “I must admit, I have never had great love for it. Smells of salt and dying fish, and sand simply gets everywhere, the seagulls chase me,” He mumbles, making her laugh a little, brows raised in amusement.

 “Perhaps they just like the look of you,” She said, and he smiled, head tilted. 

“Is that what you think?” He asked. 

“Well, if I were a seagull, I would go for you. Your hair would make a good nest,” She teases, making his eye roll. “But truly, you must be going to the worst spots. I have missed Kingslanding. The shores are beautiful,” She says. His heart thumped, and he found himself gazing into her eyes. 

“Then you should stay,” He responded softly, leaning a little closer. It was hard to remember that they were surrounded, and that they were not the only people in the world.

 “And how would I go about that?” She asked softly. 

“You could marry me,” He spoke softly, and the whole room went silent, the notes on the harp fading out. Her brows raised, and she looked like she might giggle. She couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, blinking slowly. 

“You do not mean that,” She said softly. 

“Oh, but I do. You would be so happy here.” He mumbled, pushing some falling curls behind her ears, whispering gently against her skin.

 “Wait for me, will you?” He mumbled. Her face flushed, and he could practically feel her heart pounding beneath her skin. She was about to speak, but the doors opened and cakes began to roll out, small cups of pudding, trays of lemon cakes and cookies.

 “(Y/N), come sit,” Rhaenyra called, and she gazed up at Aemond for a moment, as if trying to speak, but nothing would come out. Slowly, they parted, moving to go back to their seats. Her cheeks were so warm, and she prayed that no one else could tell under the warm light of the candles. Immediately, Rhaenyra leaned toward her, searching her face for discomfort. 

“What did he say to you?” She asked, noting the odd look of.. Something on her daughters face. It wasn’t fear, and it wasn’t discomfort. She just couldn’t place that expression. 

“Nothing, mother,” She said softly. All eyes were on her, and Daemon wore a smirk like a man would wear a crown.

 “I believe she has feelings for the boy,” He whispered, making Rhaenyra’s eyes widen. She looked disgusted, for a brief moment, but she quickly hid her distaste, blinking it away as she took lemon cakes onto her plate. 

“We will talk about this later,” She said quietly, plucking the sweetened lemons from the top of the cake and placing one in her mouth. Daemon reached over and took the cake itself. They had a system. She would eat the fruits, and he would eat the parts she did not want. Meanwhile, she reached for a cookie, breaking it into small pieces on her plate, trying her best not to look at Aemond. She could tell that he was getting the same treatment on his side of the table, a knowing smile on his face as his mother shook his arm, trying to juice information out of him. He only chuckled to himself, taking a few sips of his wine. When the dinner finally ended, she was a blushing mess as she followed her mother, looking over her shoulder to see Aemond going in the other direction, a silent agreement in their eyes. They would see each other in the library tonight. As she took her bath, all she could think of was him.

 Him and his offer, and the more she thought of it, the more she smiled. She trusted him more than she ever could a stranger. And she began to think of how she could convince her mother to let it happen. She trusted that Aemond would never hurt her. Maybe men that acted out of their place, maybe annoying nephews at the dinner table, but never her, and she was confident in that. And perhaps the marriage could bring the family together. Rhaenyra had wanted Jace to marry Helaena, after all. She did have a desire for the families to mix. That was it. That would be her selling point. “Some time alone, please?” She asked the maids as they scrubbed her body and hands.

 “Of course, Princess,” They responded, quickly leaving. She sighed softly, ringing out her loofa as she looked at the mirror. Perhaps if she had children with Aemond, they would come out with white hair. Maybe they would have a better life than her. Her eyes then wandered to her seahorse necklace, and she remembered her father, before his death. Her life had been an odd one. She felt like she had a new father every couple of years, and in truth, she had. She had the father who’s seed she grew from, who taught her how to count and tucked her into bed during his shifts on the nightwatch.

She had the father who taught her how to fish, and which shells made the best necklaces, and which crabs were dangerous. And then she had the father that taught her to be bold, the one who married her mother the day after his own wife died. That had been a tough one, and in truth, she still was not warmed to Daemon. She did not like the way he treated her precious mother, and she swore to herself that she would never have a marriage like theirs. When she was finally dried of her bath, she looked out to the stars.

 She looked for her favorite constellations, and she smiled as she remembered the library in the Red Keep. It was beautiful and large and full of enough books to last a lifetime. She was quick to get into her pyjamas, and even quicker to open her door, looking up at her guard. 

“Excuse me,” She said softly, stepping out. “Are you going somewhere, Princess?” He asked, a look of confusion on his face. He had a long beard, and she was sure he had seen him before.

 “Yes,” She answered, making her way down the corridor without saying anything else. She made her way as quiet as she could to the library, passing a rat or two that made her heart jump. That was something that she had hated about the Red Keep. There was nothing on the windows, so animals would come and go as they pleased. She much preferred mice over rats. Something about their tails tickled her brain in the worst of ways. When she finally did reach the library, her eyes searched for him, and she felt disappointment rising in her like steam when she could not find him. Perhaps she had gotten the wrong message. Maybe she made up the language of the eyes. But she would not waste her trip, beginning to pick out a book or two on constellations and The Moon and The Tides.

 “You didn’t think I forgot, did you?” His voice made her jump, and she gripped her skirt as her eyes searched for him. “So close, my little doe. Look down,” He spoke, and when she did, she found him hiding under one of the tables in a pile of blankets. She smiled, crouching.

 “Are you hiding?” She asked softly. She couldn’t see his expression in the dark, but she could feel warmth radiating from him.

 “I am not hiding. I simply wanted to see how long it would take to find me,” He responded, reaching for her hand and pulling her down. This was much easier when they were kids, but now he was longer than the table, and the needed more pillows. 

“So you have just been watching me walk around aimlessly?” She teased, making him nod.

 “Oh, of course,” He spoke softly, his hands finding her cheeks, squishing them gently. “I want to speak with my sister,” He mumbled softly, pulling her closer until her belly was against his chest. “I will not marry you until I get her permission,” He said softly. She nodded softly, leaning her cheek against his chest. She could hear his heart racing, and she smiled at the feel of the vibrations.

 “I did not take you for the type to want Mommy’s blessing,” She mumbles, making him scoff. 

“I know better than to take away her little girl. She owes me this much, for all that has been done to me,” He spoke, and her hand slowly made its way up to his eyepatch.

 “I am sorry that I said nothing that night,” She mumbled, and he softened against her touch. 

“You were only a child,” He said quietly. 

“As were you. None of us deserved all that has happened to us. If it is any help, I stole Luke’s desserts for a week,” She mumbled gently.

 “Ah, yes. That is the most appropriate punishment,” He teased, making her roll her eyes. 

“I did what I could.” She speaks, her lips brushing against his forehead, placing a small kiss there. A bit of his hair got into her mouth, and he squirmed, making him chuckle. 

“Are you trying to make a nest of my hair?” He asked, recalling their earlier conversation.

 “Oh hush.” She mumbled, curling up into him. Neither of them meant to fall asleep, but it was just so warm and comforting, and slowly, they fell into a slumber, feet sticking out of their fort. When they woke, it was to yells so loud they thought someone was killed. Both sat up far too quick, smacking the tops of their heads against the wooden tables. In shame, they crawled out quickly, her eyes big as she stared up at both of their mothers.

 “What is the meaning of this?” Rhaenyra asked. She sounded so angry, but her eyes were not on her daughter, they were on Aemond, her lips pressed into a fineline.

 “We were having a sleepover,” He said simply. “You know what that is like, don’t you sister? Didn’t you used to have sleepovers with your friends quite frequently?” He asked. He couldn’t speak without being antagonistic. 

“Aemond!” She and Alicent exclaimed at the same time. 

“Mother, please. I promise it was nothing. We were only speaking,” She said softly, eyes on the floor as she was pulled closer, her face and neck inspected for marks. “We just wanted to do as we used to as children, that is all,” She said softly. Rhaenyra slowly calmed, tucking her hair behind her ears.

 “He did nothing to you?” She asked.

 “Of course not. Aemond would never hurt me,” She spoke, feeling Aemond’s hand moving to her shoulder. 

“That much is true,” He spoke. “Sister, it has been a long time since we have spoken face to face,” He said, his eyepatch on the floor, having fallen off in his sleep. He wanted her to look at him in full, to see all that he had become. 

“That it has,” Rhaenyra spoke, her face void of emotion. 

“You know that I love your daughter. That has never been a secret. Do not deny her happiness because of one misunderstanding.” He said, making Rhaenyra’s face slowly fall. Her eyes looked to Alicent, as if she had any part in this. She simply shrugged, mouth parted. 

“What are you saying, Aemond?” She asked her youngest son. 

“I am saying that I wish to unite our families. I will marry (Y/N).” He spoke, leaving no room for discussion. Rhaenyra stared blankly at the pair. She had wished to stop the resentment between the families, and this would be the perfect way. But she could not bear the thought of her daughter staying here, alone with him, with them. She knew that (Y/N) would marry one day, but she just didn’t realize how soon that would be. But as she saw her daughters smile, and the hope in her eyes, she just could not say no. “Very well.” She spoke after a moment, letting out a deep breath.

 “I will allow it. But you will wait the moons until her name day. We will ensure that this is what she truly wants,” She spoke, nodding to herself. Alicent was more hesitant, running through the possibilities in her mind. This was not what she wanted, not one bit. She wanted as much distance between the two families as possible. And what would the people say when they learned that the Prince was marrying a bastard? Her blood was good as dirt, and she came from a family of liars and narcissists. But no matter what she said, she knew her son would do as he pleased, so finally, she nodded, looking down at the floor. 

128 AC The wedding day came quicker than either of them had expected. For at least three hours a day it was just planning, planning, planning. Trying on rings and taking them off, getting as close as they could without their chaperones making a fuss, whispered compliments and holding hands under the table. And of course, having to remind Alicent that this was not her wedding. “Oh, but wouldn’t a green dress be so lovely?” She asked, holding the fabric to (Y/N)’s skin. Rhaenyra could sense her discomfort, giving a light shake of her head. 

“No. She has already decided to wear a gown similar to mine,” She spoke, and as Alicent went to open her mouth, she quickly spoke again.

 “Don’t you remember that from when you were young? How old were you, nine or so? I found you in my chambers trying to get the dress on. It was much too long for you then,” Rhaenyra smiled fondly as she sipped her tea. 

“It will not fit her,” Alicent pointed out, to which Rhaenyra smiled. 

“It is a good to live in the time of seamstresses, is it not? I have already had it expanded and altered to suit her. You should worry about your son. Black leather at a wedding would be quite improper,” She spoke. Aemond sighed, slowly making eye contact with his betrothed. The pair were rather calm, but their mothers… were certainly something. 

“I have already had his clothing commissioned. He will wear a fine beaded doublet of dragons and seahorses, in nod to her…. Velaryon heritage,” Alicent spoke, her voice soft and sarcastic, making Rhaenyra’s eyes roll. (Y/N) could not take it anymore.

 “In all respect, this is my wedding. It is our wedding. We do not need this petty argument ruining our day. We both have fine clothes to wear, we have stunning rings, invitations are sent, and that is the end of it.” She spoke, looking between the two older women, watching them go silent. And so the pair would sit and wait for the day to come, resting together in the gardens, watching the sun fall and rise as they ate their meals on a blanket. They were romantic and disgusting, living in their own little world, just them and their chaperone.

 “I cannot wait until we are finally wed and can be alone,” He sighed, rubbing her hand, kissing the top of her engagement ring. It was golden and covered in stones. It was far from traditional, and it was exactly the type of thing that she enjoyed.

 “Nor can I,” She said softly, smiling as she saw a bunny running across the grass.

 “Only a few days left,” he said softly. “You are certain you want to go through with this? There is still time to call it all off,” He mumbled, making her scoff.

 “Of course I am certain. I will just have to prepare myself for more of your mothers comments,” She responded teasingly. 

“Oh, Gods. Are do not want to think about that. I only wish to think of what it will be like to finally kiss you, to share our names and bodies… to finally sleep in the same bed and wake up to the sight of you every morning,” he murmured, making her cheeks burn.

 “Stop it,” She mumbles, too embarrassed to listen to any more of it, placing her hands on her ears, making him chuckle as he pulled them off. 

“I am thrilled to see your pretty face all sleepy and puffy, and to share our evening meals, to have painting after painting made of you to hang on my walls until I cannot escape those pretty eyes,” He smiled. She squirmed under him, flattered and grossed out, covering her crimson cheeks. “Hm.. the bugs are coming out,” He sighed as the sky got dark and frogs bred in the distance. She sighed, and they carefully packed up their things and made their way back to the Keep. Alicent was watching them from her balcony, and the two walked a safe distance apart. Only a few more days they would have to hold themselves together. And finally, on the 18th day of the 11th moon, all of the Lords and Ladies of importance were packed inside the Red Keep. Beautiful gowns twirling under candle light, the best of music echoing from the harps. Aemond tried to breath as he walked in, his eyes finally finding her. 

And gods, he would marry her a million times over. Her curls were full of pearls and small pins, half of her hair up and the other half down. His palms were sweating, pressing against his doublet. He was painfully aware of everyone looking at him, but he couldn’t look away from her.

 “(Y/N).” He murmured softly as she finally stood in front of him. He was struck dumb by her beauty, blinking slowly. 

“Aemond,” She said softly, their voices quiet and kept to the loudness of a breath. Both of their faces red as the Sept read off some text, but neither of them were paying attention. Hurry up, Aemond thought to himself, getting increasingly more anxious as the minutes passed. And finally, as silence covered them, he reached forward, held her cheeks, and pressed a big kiss to her mouth. It was sweet and awkward, and their teeth bumped for a brief moment. All of the love they had collected for each other in the last months came oozing out, her hands holding his until they finally parted, looking at each other, their breath lost.

 “And you have… kissed your bride.” The Septon spoke, a bit awkwardly, as if this had never happened before. And it had not. The crowd was quiet, looking around for the reaction they were supposed to have, until they finally erupted in applause.

 “I love you, My Strong Girl,” He whispered into her ear. She smiled up at him, arms around his shoulders as flower petals flew like rain.

 “Aww, thank you,” She said, making his eye squint. She laughed, her thumbs pressing her cheeks.

 “And I love you too, my One Eyed Prince,” She mumbled, feeling his arms around her waist, holding her close as if he wished to absorb her. And so the One Eyed Prince and The Strong Girl lived the happiest they could, despite the violence around them and the whispers in their ears, their love never died. Burning furious and strong like Vhagar’s flame, and with every five years that passed, they would have wedding after wedding after wedding, until they were wed beneath all the gods and above all the land. Until their love could not be denied, and until they died, where their ashes were mixed and mingled with the shore, covered in shells and seahorses.

I think this might be the longest fic i've posted so far! I hope you enjoyed it!!

Thank you to everyone who reads.

♡- BK

[maglors-grief]

I'm so confused about all the people that have been insulting targaryen!readers and ocs as "boring" lately.

You expect me to believe that a reader/oc that has a fucked up family and can ride a dragon is somehow uninteresting...? This is a big fandom. There's room for everyone to write what they want. There's no reason for some people to be so judgemental. Fic writers are providing us with free content about our favorite characters. They are taking time out of their day to write us stories. You aren't expected to like every fic. This entitlement in fandom is ridiculous. Fanfiction writers owe you nothing. If you don't like what they write then that's your problem not theirs.

Most of these characters have hundreds of fics written for them, there is no point in dwelling on the fics you don't like. The Aemond/ofc tag on ao3 has over 2000 fics, the Aemond/reader tag has over 1000 fics, but yet I'll still see people whining in the fanfiction tags on tumblr about how a writer dared to write a reader/oc or plot they personally didn't like. Again, you are reading free content, we don't need to hear your criticisms. Not liking a fic is not some crisis we need to urgently address. You can keep your thoughts to yourself and move on to something else. My rant is over. Be kind to fic writers. Life would be miserable without them.

[lionneee]

Your sworn sword

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: fingering, degradation (just a bit), 'just the tip', talking of sexual themes, piv, smut.•

Part 1 -> Part 2

{Request: I have a request! Aemond is send across the narrow sea to be the sworn sword/knight of a (verryy beautiful) princess from a noble house is esso’s. As punishment what he did to lucerys Thanks for reading dear 💙}

To say that Prince Aemond was grumpy was an euphemism.

He was rigid, stoic, and rude.

But your father loved him.

You couldn’t understand why, not after his most recent kill: his little nephew.

You remembered meeting Luke Velaryon once, he was a nice, gentle, kind boy.

His brother Jace was just the same.

Princess Rhaenyra had been invited as a guest at your father’s name day feast with her family, and you remembered spending a nice afternoon with her sons.

You actually kept contact with her youngest child, Jace. You two sometimes sent letters to each other, talking of your days apart.

You would have never said it outloud, but you had a weakness for the boy’s dark, beautiful hair.

But he was promised to her cousin Baela.

As soon as you heard the news, you thought he would have stopped sending you letters, but he didn't, and you almost cried of joy when the next letter came.

Then, your father sided with the greens.

He sided with rude, dangerous people, and named the worst of them as your sworn sword.

When he told you about his choice you begged him, you cried, you did everything you could to try to change his mind but it was all to no avail.

Now, all the other Ladies never sat with you, they were afraid to speak with you, all because of some dark, evil, scary person standing behind you, following every step you took.

It was so obvious how much he hated being a night, yet, he stood his role perfectly.

Aemond was always there, lurking like a shadow behind you, his presence cold and heavy, suffocating your every breath. He never spoke to you unless necessary, never showed any warmth or softness in his voice. There was nothing but formality and distance, a thick wall of indifference that made your skin crawl whenever he was near.

To be fair, the only thing you thought interesting of him was his dragon Vaghar.

Your days had become a game of silence, your once carefree nature now replaced with the constant awareness of his eyes on you. You missed the days when you could write to Jace without a worry, when his words brought you comfort and a glimpse of hope. Now, the letters felt like a secret rebellion, something dangerous, but you couldn’t give them up. They were the only link to a world that still held some warmth.

You still wrote to him, though your letters had become shorter, more cautious. You dared not mention Aemond, or your isolation. Instead, you spoke of mundane things, of books you were reading, of the changing seasons. Jace’s responses, too, had shifted, though he remained kind and attentive. There was always a note of tension, a hint of restraint. You knew he was aware of the shifting tides, of your father's allegiance to the Greens.

 You happily walked in your room, smiling as you held the newest letter on your hand from Jace.

Aemond was walking right behind you, but you couldn’t care.

Jace's letter had just come.

You chuckled to yourself as you closed the door of your room behind you, leaving Aemond outside, guarding your door. 

You jogged to your desk, sitting down on the chair and breaking the sigil, opening with trembling hands the letter.

There were only a few lines written.

You furrowed your brows, confused. He usually wrote at least one page.

Dearest friend,

I assume you have heard of my family’s recent loss, my sweet brother Luke, gone by the hand of my uncle Aemond. 

It saddens me to tell you this, but due to your father’s allegiance and your newest sworn sword, I believe it is time to end our communications.

Jace Velaryon

You felt a pain in your chest.

A deep pain.

You weren’t going to receive any more letters from him. 

I believe it is time to end our communications.

You stood up from your desk, leaving the letter to hit the floor as you ran to your bed, laying face down, your arms crossed under your face as you bursted into tears.

You didn’t eat lunch, you didn’t have dinner. You didn’t want to get up from your bed.

Your maids, even one of your closest friends tried to walk past Aemond to check on you, but he was impenetrable, he wouldn’t let anyone in, not if you didn’t want them to.

His behavior left you speechless.

You knew he was loyal, you knew he was one to do his duty, but the way he stood up for you, not letting anyone in just as you asked, left you almost flattered.

The hours dragged on as you laid in your bed, the room dark and suffocating. The weight of Jace's words still lingered, pressing down on your chest. It was as though the last thread connecting you to the warmth of your past had been severed. You felt utterly alone, the castle walls seeming colder, the silence more deafening.

But outside your door, Aemond remained, steadfast and unmoving. His presence felt different now, less like the shadow you despised and more like an unavoidable part of your life. He had become a constant, whether you liked it or not, and now, oddly, that constancy brought a shred of comfort in your moment of loss.

By the time the moon rose high in the sky, you hadn’t moved from your bed, save to cry quietly into your pillow. The pain of Jace's rejection, not just of you but of the friendship you had cherished, was overwhelming. You couldn’t bring yourself to think of anything else, let alone leave your room.

A soft knock echoed through the thick wooden door. At first, you ignored it, thinking it was another maid or friend trying to check on you, Aemond would have taken care of it in a moment. But after a moment, there was another knock, firm yet measured, followed by a voice, calm, collected, and unmistakably Aemond’s.

 "You haven't eaten." He said, his tone devoid of his usual coldness, though it was still restrained. You laid still, wondering if you could pretend you hadn’t heard him. But the silence lingered too long, and it was clear he wasn’t going to leave. He was your sworn sword, after all, bound to you, whether you liked it or not.

"I’m not hungry." You muttered into your pillow, your voice muffled and thick with the remnants of tears.

There was a pause, a moment of hesitation, which was unlike him. Then, Aemond spoke again, quieter this time. "It has been hours. You should take something, if only to keep your strength."

His words were filled with disinterest despite the meaning of them. He made impossible things possible.

"I don’t want anything." You repeated, more firmly this time. 

The door opened with a loud creek, and Aemond just walked inside. You scoffed, annoyed, but you felt too sad to think about him pissing you off.

“Leave me alone!” You groaned on the mattress, clenching your hands into fists. You could hear him moving in the room.

“That puppy of my nephew is what has reduced you in this state?” He asked, scoffing. You turned your head to look at him, and you saw him looking down at a letter in his hands.

Jace’s letter.

You bolted upright on the bed, fury boiling inside you at the sight of Aemond holding Jace’s letter. His tall, imposing figure seemed even more oppressive in the dim light of your room. His one good eye flicked over the page with a mixture of disdain and cold amusement, while the sapphire in his other socket glinted in the low light.

"Give that back!" you demanded, your voice cracking from the tears and frustration, but Aemond made no move to return the letter. He dropped the letter, letting out another scoff.

“You’re a fool.” He said, his rudeness making you red to your ear.

“How dare you talk to me like that?” You exclaimed, indignited.

“He’s a bastard. You’re sweet on a bastard, the son of my whore sister. That’s foolish.”

You felt your blood boil at his words, each syllable a sharp jab to your heart. “You don’t know anything about me! You think you can judge me just because you think you're so much better than everyone else!?”

He stepped closer, towering over you, his expression a mixture of contempt and something unreadable. “I am better than everyone else. I’m surely better than that boy who has no right on the throne he wants to claim so much.”

Your anger flared, but underneath it was a deep sorrow. “He’s more than just a name or a title! Jace has been kind to me, and you—” you pointed an accusing finger at him, “you are the one who brings darkness wherever you go.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, the air crackling with tension. “Kindness won’t save you, and neither will that bastard. This world isn’t built on sentiment. It’s built on strength and blood.”

“Strength?” you spat, incredulous. “Strength that comes from killing boys? That’s your idea of strength?”

He looked unfazed, his expression hardening. “Luke was weak. That’s why he’s dead.”

“You’re twisted.” You hissed. “It brings you pleasure, doesn’t it? Being feared, see people looking away from you –” He pushed you back before you could continue, as he started pulling off the upper structure of his armor.

You stumbled back as you looked up at him, confused and stunned, but he pushed you back again as he took off the lower part of his armor, making you fall back on your bed.

“You want to know what brings me pleasure?” He grabbed your ankle, dragging you down the bed until your butt was almost over it. He pushed the skirts of your dress up, exposing your legs.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You tried to close your legs, or pull down the skirts, but he raised your legs up, then he leaned down to grab both your thighs, spreading them apart, pressing his face against your underwear.

“This.” He mumbled against the thin clothing, his nose pressing against a funny spot against you, that made a strange sound come out of your mouth. “This brings me pleasure.” He growled as he pulled down your underwear along with the stockings. “Teaching stupid ladies their places.” He said as he dived his face back between your thighs, now his mouth pressing on that same spot, sucking and rubbing with his tongue, leaving you breathless for a moment, the pleasure was so high and so good you couldn’t speak.

You couldn’t see him, your skirts were covering the view, but you didn’t really care. Not when it felt this good. 

You didn’t think you'd ever felt this good. 

The one who was making you feel good, was a Targaryen Prince, a child murdered, the rider of the largest dragon in the world.

You could only squirm, your mind numbed by the pleasure, slowly overcoming all the alarms your brain was sending you, telling you to push the prince away, to not let him touch you in such an appropriate manner.

But then, all so suddenly it stopped, leaving you panting heavily. You saw Aemond raising his head from between your legs, coming into your field of vision.

His chin was wet, his only eye almost completely black as he looked down at you.

His hands moved on your skin, almost gently, caressing your skin as they moved up, your knees, your ankles. He wrapped his fingers around your ankles, securing your legs raised, your feet by each side of his head.

You should have stopped him.

This was improper, it was a sin. A sin you were committing with the worst man in the Seven Kingdoms.

You wanted to move, kick him back, telling him to stop touching you with his filthy, blood-stained hands, but under the dark gaze of his single eye you couldn’t move.

Aemond tightened the grip on your ankles, suddenly pulling you up so your hips lifted from the mattress. Startled, you let out a weak squeak, gripping the sheets tightly as your body moved forward, the back of your thighs landing harshly against him, your core rubbing against a protuberance on his pants, the impact sending another jolt of pleasure through your body.

“Yeah, you like it.” He hummed to himself as he dropped you back on the mattress. He leaned down, his body making space for himself between your legs as his face came to hover yours. “And you want to feel it more, don't you?” He smirked, looking down at you.

You could feel your face burning because of his words, more likely because of the truthfulness of them, because yes, you wanted to feel it again.

“No-” You mumbled as you looked up at him, directly in his eye, trying to sound firm, but he simply chuckled, grabbing your face with his hand, his fingers digging in the soft skin of your cheeks. “Such a liar. No wonder why my sweet bastard-nephew doesn’t want you.” 

That stang.

Your eyes immediately filled with tears and anger.

“How dare you?” You hissed as you tried to push him off of you, slapping his chest repeatedly, but he only smiled even more.

“There, there…” He hummed as his hand went back underneath your dress, finding you private again. No matter how much you fought, his body was keeping your legs apart, and he seemed impossible to move.

You only stopped when you felt a strange feeling, something filling you in a way you’ve never felt, that made you gasp out loud. You unconsciously let out a moan, your back arched instinctively, as your body almost contorted as he started moving his finger inside you.

“So easy to shut you up, mh?” He asked as he followed your face to be able to see every expression you made. “So easy to put into place.” He added then in a low voice.

You gritted your teeth together, trying to find in you the force to push him off, to not give him the satisfaction he was showing with that damn smile of his, but you couldn’t. The only sounds that came out of your mouth were whines or soft moans as his finger moved faster inside you, caressing everywhere inside you, and eliciting a pure bliss of pleasure.

“Jace is a fool for leaving you.” He said as he looked at you, your eyes half closed, your head leaned back, your lips apart. He didn’t even look like he realized he said that, it was like he was talking to himself and accidentally said it outloud. You turned your head to look at him, finding his eyes fixed on you, staring in appreciation. “You’re a rare beauty.” He said, his voice low and rough.

You blinked slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. A warmth spread across your chest, but you weren’t sure if it was the pleasure or the way his gaze lingered on you. 

No.

You thought to yourself.

Not him.

Please.

But the way he looked at you, like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world was doing something to you. It made your stomach clench, your head dizzier.

You’ve been told countless times by suitors that you were a sight to see, a beauty, but it did nothing if not make you blush or feel appreciated.

With Jace you felt your heart beat so loud you feared it could jump out of your chest.

You too were aware of your beauty, but you never thought of it as a rareness.

But now with Aemond Targaryen, the cold, mean, cruel man, who was doing unspeakable things to you, who looked at you like a Goddess, you truly felt like one.

Aemond’s gaze pierced through you, a silent intensity in his expression that made your breath catch in your throat. You wished you could deny the way his presence and actions were affecting you, wished you could ignore the way his words stirred something deep inside. But the truth was undeniable. 

As he slipped his second finger inside your thigh core, you felt it crushing on you. You didn’t know what, but for a moment, you forgot about everything, Jace, the war, Aemond’s sins, your worries, your anger and your sadness, it all vanished by the newfound feeling of ecstasy. You whined louder, making aemond clamp his other hand immediately over your mouth to muffle your sounds as he kept moving your fingers. You looked at him with wide eyes, you didn’t know what had just happened to you, but you wanted to keep feeling it, no matter what cost, you wanted to feel that good again.

He kept pumping his fingers inside you as you saw him starting to move, rub, against your thigh, some hardness pressing and caressing your skin. His brows arched slightly, his eye narrowing slightly as he pressed his hips harder against you, seeking more friction and pressure. 

You’ve never seen a man do a face close to that one.

You’ve never seen Aemond make a face like that, and it was beautiful, it was breathtaking, hypnotizing, you felt like watching him all day as he experienced his pleasure.

He didn’t miss the way you seemed affected, obviously. He looked down at you and found you staring at him, his eye darkened even more, his pupil dilating even more if possible as he clenched his jaw.

“You like this?” He looked down at you, moving his hand from your mouth to your neck, gripping it tightly, but not enough to actually cut your air off. You tilted your head back, wrapping your hands on his wrist and arm, gasping as he slipped his fingers out, passing them over your pearl just to see you squirm, his lips moving into a smirk. “No.” He said as he sat up in his haunches between your legs, forcing you to spread them to make room for his body as he started to undo his pants. “You love it.”

You tried to look down, trying to understand what he was doing but he squeezed your throat into a warning, keeping your head in place. “What are you trying to see, uh?” He growled as he pushed his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. “Such a curious menace, always getting into trouble.” He hissed as he leaned over her to look at you from above. “Always sneaking around, making my life harder.” He gritted his teeth. “Making me chase you.” He raised her skirts to your waist as he aligned his cock to your core, wet and warm, hot.

“No – “ You mumbled as you felt the tip pressing on your skin. “Y-you can’t- We’re not married-” You mumbled as you panted, shaking your head. Aemond smiled down at you, his thumb caressing the skin of her neck. 

“No one will notice.” He said firmly, pushing slightly, making his tip grace the inside your core, just slightly, enough to hear another moan from you. “Just…” He groaned as he repeated the movement, moving his hips forward as his face contorted in pleasure. “... the tip – Fuck –” He groaned as he started moving his hips, the tip of his cock was being sucked in every time by your cunt, as if it was trying to keep him inside. 

It didn’t feel bad.

She did feel like her cunt was being torn apart, but she found the pain mixed to the pleasure extremely pleasing.

It was good.

It was so good.

The pleasure was so overwhelming, so strong, so blissful.

“A-Aemond – “ You bit your lower lip as you arched your back, jerking your hips to find more pleasure as his tip kept slipping out and back in.

Aemond couldn’t tear his eyes off the sight, your core making a wet sound every time he slipped in, your walls forced open to make space for his thick cock, his red tip being welcomed in the warmness of your body, and then the sound of your weak wail every time he pulled back, only enough to be able to push back in.

“Yeah like that –” He growled as he tightened his hand around your neck, his eye still fixed on how your bodies connected, his thrusts regular, calculated and hard.

He was hanging by a thread, and he was showing a great amount of control, just by not slamming his whole long cock inside you, and making you scream in pain and pleasure.

“Grind yourself like a whore –” He snarled as he started rolling his hips faster, the wet sound growing louder along with his pace. “Fuck youre so tight – You’re squeezing me inside - ”

It didn’t bother you the way he called you, the way he spoke. If not, it only aroused you more.

You bit your lower lip harder, and no matter how low you tried to keep your noises, it became impossible as Aemond moved his free hand, using his fingers to circle your pearl, putting just the right amount of pressure. Your back arched violently as you threw your head back, your mouth open in an oval shape, grunts and moans coming out one after another as Aemond tightened his hand around your throat, starting to cut some of your air supplies, your eyes rolled in the back of your head.

It was all so much.

It was all so good.

“Come.” He growled as he finally looked up at you. “Come, before I lose it.” His eye fixed on yours. He looked feral. He looked like a chained animal, that once set free, would have hunted and killed everything in its path. “Come, before absolutely ruin you.” 

It wasn’t like you had any control over it, because when the pleasure reached you in such a hard, strong frisson, you could only surrender to it. Your eyes widened, your mouth opened, but Aemond tightened his hand on your throat even more, killing every sound you could have let out. Your eyes watered as your hips jerked, the pleasure washing over you in devastating waves.

He snarled, letting go of your throat, but you barely had the time to take a deep breathe because you felt a stinging pain, barely muffled by the aftershocks of you climax, as Aemond grabbed tightly your hips and harshly pulled to him, making you slip down on the bed and making his cock thrust completely inside you, as he moaned on top of you.

“So fucking tight.” His voice was strained, his breathing heavy, then, you felt a strange sensation of wetness inside you.

You whined as the bliss of pleasure slowly faded away, leaving you in an uncomfortable pain, so you pushed Aemond away, who retrieved with a groan, slipping out of you.

You slowly sat up, looking at him as your mind slowly registered the last moments. 

Aemond stood up from the bed, tucking himself inside his pants and starting to put his armor back on.

You didn’t say anything in the meanwhile, you just stared down at the bed covers, where you and Aemond were laying till a few seconds before, committing one of the worst sins ever.

A sin that felt so good.

You snapped out of your moment of trance only when you heard the door slam shut, and a strange smell of burned paper in the air. You moved to the end of the bed, on the floor, there was a piece of paper on fire.

Jace’s letter.

Part 2

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy

[queers-gambit]

The Black Dread part one

prompt: after word is sent for Dragonseeds to raise up, you shockingly claim The Black Dread. knowing your stance would all but determine the war, both Alicent and Rhaenyra send emissaries to persuade your allegiance through means of marriage. when tragedy strikes, you fly to war. -> in this part - you claim Balerion and emissaries are sent.

pairing: Jacaerys 'Jace' Velaryon x female!Tyrell!reader pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!Tyrell!reader -> hair color specified reader -> technically Targaryen!reader -> ALL characters aged 18+

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

series masterlist: The Black Dread > > > next part, part two: read here

word count: 4.9k+

note: ALL characters are aged up - they are NOT minors

warnings: hair color specified reader but it's paramount to the story. Dance of the Dragons AU, Balerion lives AU - kinda heavy introduction. political manipulation, i guess no Baela, Rhaena or Alys romantic interests, ALL characters are aged 18 or older, Muses aren't in this part much, stolen Olenna Tyrell quote(s), Dylan Thomas quote.

though Balerion is not shown in the shows [HOTD or GOT], these are some of author's personal favorite fan art pieces: this this one, but maybe this color

Considering the climate, environment, elements, and location of each region with no true diverse distinction or transition between seasons, summers varied in each corner of the Seven Kingdoms. Notably, the mainland experienced vastly different summers in comparison to the constantly humid Westerosi islands.

This was expected.

Where the weather endured in King’s Landing is dry and stale - lacking cloud coverage, baking all forms of life under the unforgiving sun - Dorne was ideal: temperate, tropical, the temperature usually consistently comfortable.

Northwest of the continent, off the Westerlands coast in water of Ironman's Bay so dark, secrets remain hidden, summers on the ratified Iron Islands were cold due to the winds blowing from the North. The rocky region wet and slippery from rain; never humid, usually biting.

The Reach boasted pleasant summers; lush and green with fully bloomed gardens, perfectly balmy. The Stormlands lived up to its name and was plagued with frequent storms. These were usually warm rains - opposite the Iron Islands. The Crownland's annually hosted hordes of tourists at their ever popular summer attraction: temperate beaches. And why wouldn't they? The Crownlands's usually kept moderate temperatures and plenty of vast coastline to offer reprieve in the surf.

However, the only exception to sweltering, stereotypical climate that ransacks the Realm is the North - an expansive outlier. You see, in the North, summers are cold but winters are REALLY cold. From Bear Island to White Harbor, the dreary, overcast summer sky reflects on year-round, bright, pristine summer snow, making it glitter and blindingly glow. This results in the curation of a blue-grey filter naturally exclusive in the North.

However, tonight - You weren't ankle-deep in North summer snows. You weren't wheezing in King's Landing. You weren't vacationing in Dorne. You weren't sloshing through the Stormlands.

Tonight, you weren't on the mainland.

Tonight, you were on Dragonstone - ancestral home of your distant, estranged family.

Bullfrogs belted their croaky song, loud and incessant; as if trying to individually greet each twinkling star in the inky sky - the ever faithful audience; intrigued by this reckless and dangerous suicidal showdown you embarked on. Crickets chirped in a soprano choir; dotting around the maze of tide pools - cratered by the same porous, jagged, volcanic rock that defines the unpredictable, natural coastline. Frothing alto waves of dark navy, violent, salty sea brutally crashed against rock - the booming baseline of the frog's and cricket's private duet sang in perfect harmony.

All that was missing was a little red crab with a Jamaican accent encouraging you "kiss the girl".

Night had fallen. The winds were cold as a storm rumbled overhead. Rain fell sideways. Lightning streaked the skies.

You navigated through the dark - a slippery, dangerous feat.

Few windows of the castle gave a subtle, dim light; indicating the residents were more than likely turned in for the night. Still, despite the lack of patrolling guards and other witnesses, you remained in stealth mode. Only fools allowed themselves to feel cocky when their guards go down. When someone allowed their defenses to go down, mistakes are made, capture is imminent, the mission is a failure, and surrender to the enemy's mercy is forced.

Your presence on Dragonstone wasn't for romance - no girls (or boys) for you to kiss. This wasn't a social visit to recreationally mingle with the Velaryon Prince or Targaryen Princess Twins. You're not conducting research curriculum - no time to study flora, fauna, volcanic activity.

To the winged terrors, Dragonstone Island is a recognizable safe haven that promotes healing - the one place these miraculous beasts could relax, ease their defenses; be vulnerable with lowered guards. This sense of safety gives freedom away from the confines of Dragon Riders - simply allowed to be true, authentic, and animalistic.

Currently, a couple dragons sought refuge on the island, nesting, minding their own business; others sought rest, retirement, peaceful isolation. Several took advantage of the heat and loitered around the volcano, the Dragonmont.

They weren't just any dragons, some were rogue, wild; some released after captivity; all unclaimed, riderless. This tempted several persons to rely on arrogant luck and try their hand at harnessing the terrible beasties - but they never returned.

Summer days stretched long, giving limited time to move under the cover of darkness, and the nights progressively shortened each day leading up to the solstice. Your journey was miraculous, having never navigated open water before yet somehow arriving at Dragonstone after setting sail from King's Landing by yourself. Perhaps you had a hidden talent, a subconscious sailor mentality; maybe you were just lucky, or maybe your boiling emotions made you defiantly determined - running on pure spite to stay alive, unharmed, and without capsizing in an effort to complete your mission.

Most of the time, you relied more on logic than emotion, something that helped keep you balanced, grateful, rational. Leading with logic arguably "made" someone intelligent; solution oriented, stubborn, hardheaded, unwilling to compromise (a common foundation when leading with emotion).

Yet logic made you very black and white - no grey area. Logic is cut and dry. Logic is sometimes sophisticated. Logic is also stubborn. Logic abandoned empathy. Logic could be explained. Logic identified applicable reasonings and explanations. Logic is hard to argue against. Logic sustained battles of wit. Logic is sometimes discriminatory. Logic always tells the truth. Logic has limited loopholes.

Logic is fact driven, and when paired with your own rooted moral and religious beliefs, made you subconsciously judgmental.

There's a well-known proverb, quote, "it's not the destination, but the journey." Yet some philosophers think the destination is mundane, anticlimactic, boring, sometimes disappointing and unfulfilling while the journey is much more fulfilling. The journey is what's worth; an adventure, where development inflates, where a story worth telling lies.

Logic is the destination. Leading with emotion is the journey.

Leading with emotion develops thoughtful decisions. Emotions sharpen empathetic abilities. Emotions sometimes changes perspectives, broadens horizons. Emotions allow for differences in opinions. Emotions curates safety. Emotions heightens generosity. Emotions expands willingness to help. Emotions softens situations with compassion. Emotions often strides towards peace. Emotions structures harmony. Emotions accepts all. Emotions could be overwhelming. Emotions don't always have one, single, clear victor.

Leading with emotion makes you easily reactive, being why you made a conscious effort to engage logic; keeping yourself in check.

You often never lost your cool; always having a handle on things, but sometimes, it was a challenge. Emotions demand to be felt, and no matter how hard you train yourself and practice relying on logic, you were still human.

Both leading with logic and emotion made you passionate, sometimes synonymous with stubborn. Either way, you ended up here - on Dragonstone - slinking around in the dead of night as if a criminal on the run, trying to avoid the Rogue Prince's nefarious, outlandishly violent City Watch.

You were dedicated to the truth, hence your willingness to embark on this suicide mission. You know it's out there, becoming desperate to find it; never settling, fed the fuck up of mindless gossip the court whispered and hissed about. Enduring years of scrutiny and unfiltered rudeness made you confident, wanting, and energized to justify your claims, prove self-worth, assign relief, terminate turmoil, tension, and assumption.

Yeah, yeah, yeah - but what truth are you dedicated to? Your family's lineage and heritage, your birthrights, your position in society. Your contributing livelihood. They only thought you a young lady boasting the Tyrell surname - a broodmare to sell off. After Queen Rhaenyra proclaimed herself, you became incessant to prove you were so much more than a pretty fragile rose to be set in a vase.

Truth became your Eighth God; being a dedicated, loyal, trusting, worshipping follower. And the truth was, you're a Targaryen as much as a Tyrell, and by all means, had as much of a right to claim a dragon as any of the rest of them.

You refuse to take detours, cut corners, violate, or cheat to obtain your goal(s); arriving at your desired end result with integrity, completing your mission by barreling through obstacles with laser focus - like a predator stalking prey.

Boots slapped and clicked on wet rock, splashing in puddles, splattering mud up your legs to soak into your breeches. Heavy humidity - thick and muggy air - coated lungs and stuck in nostrils, being suffocatingly stuffy; breathing becoming difficult. You could physically feel the condensation in the air - hair adopting a mind of its own; beaded, clammy skin becoming uncomfortably sticky, palms slick with sweat. You missed the dry heat of the capital.

Dark hood of your cloak hid your vibrant hair; the material swishing, swirling airy fog low to the ground around your creeping form, creating an ominous energy. You half expected a ghost to appear at your flank.

The clanking of the night patrol's armor was heard first, alerting you to a diminishing window; sliding into the mouth of one of the dragon caves in time for the White Cloaks to stalk around the castle's perimeter walkway.

Even with thick rock cocooning your form, the rumbling of the nested dragon's slumber was heard; loose pebbles, dust and other debris showered from the cave ceiling. Despite the heat of the Dragonmont, you heard the slow echo of dripping water.

Your choice to come to Dragonstone, was it a logical decision? Or driven by emotions - fed up with the rumors, sneers, disrespect, critical judgement from everyone in King's Landing? ...yes.

Navigating a dragon lair was dangerous, but navigating a dragon lair with ZERO experience was an anticipated disaster. Surely, you must've lost your mind because no mentally stable person would dare step foot in this cave - let alone scale the depths in search of an ancient beast that could (and possibly wound) treat your charred body as a BBQ appetizer. With a gasp, you slipped on the rocks, hissing when the heels of your palms took the brunt end of impact and slit open; tiny pebbles sticking to your open flesh. You whimpered gently, jagged rocks digging into your knees as you cleared your hands and slowly found your feet.

Even with knowledge of your heritage, you hadn't grown around the scaly Targaryen counterparts like any and every other legitimate offspring. You were long divided from that side of your family, missing out on fascinating Valyrian traditional customs. It made you a slightly bitter.

No dragon egg in your crib. No hours-long practice in the Dragon Pit. No reptilian anatomy studies. No personalized leather saddle embellished with a three-headed dragon. No claim to ancestral privilege or birthright. No unique morality, nor holier than thou complex. No generational beast to inherit.

Skin free from the lingering, invasive, embedded stench of dragon hide.

You used to think learning Ancient Valyrian was a redundant waste of time, education, and resources. You were raised in the ancestral keep in the Reach's capital, Highgarden, under your father, Lord Tyrell, and his beloved wife - the Vanished Princess - which made this secret sleuthing harder to rationalize or explain, given no Targaryen ever lived in Highgarden. Never before were dragons hosted in The Reach, and therefor, a Dragon Pit was never erected.

So, you know how when you're a kid and see something at the store that you really want but your parent says no because you already have too much shit? They might've made their point by saying something, like, "Where do you think you're gonna put all that?"

Well, Highgarden is the toy box and you intend on bringing home one of those enormous stuffed animals won at a carnival / festival.

If anyone knew of this plan, they might've sent you to the medical institute the Citadel in Oldtown operates; involuntarily commit you to the structured research program that studies different mental and physical medical phenomenons.

Truth was, this wasn't even your idea. Your grandmother, who definitely either spent time in one of the Citadel's cells or should, encouraged you. Perhaps that should've been a red flag, but it was too late now, her words echoing in your mind ―

Be a dragon.

The gardens you walked through were in fragrant, full bloom; providing a sweet air to combat the foul words you admitted with your arm looped in your grandmother's. You paced evenly through the overgrown foliage, the bees buzzing to drown your words.

"Perhaps, something is wrong with me," you sulked, "because surely, it cannot be this difficult to find a match. It seems I need to lower my standards, I could not attract a decent man if I were covered in honey and he were a fly."

"Perhaps try covering yourself in shit, then," she advised with a knowing smirk.

"Grandmother."

"Well, it's curious, isn't it?" Celia asked.

"What is?"

"All your life, you've always been more Targaryen than Tyrell; fierce, loyal, impulsive, strong, enduring. Yet now, you return nothing more than a rose wilted from King's Landing's stench, moping about failed relations. Have you ever considered that simple men are incapable of supporting the love and marriage of a dragon?"

"Half blooded does not make me a dragon."

"No, but the spirit, wit, intelligence, spunk, ferocity, cunningness, and determination you display proves it." She paused your stroll, secluded canopy shroud by foliage to provide a moment of privacy.

"Not all would think so," you let your eyes roll.

"Who do you speak of?"

"Those who think I am lying about my own Targaryen parentage, citing the color of my hair as evidence. You would think I'm one of the Queen's sons, the way they whisper."

"Do not listen to busy mouths, sweet child, hair cannot be a sole indication of parentage. I know it's easy to cite, but not all descendants of Valyria have silver locks, and should anyone have anything to say, know they are merely bitter and jealous for your hair is the perfect blend of Tyrell auburn and Targaryen silver. A color that is hard to ignore."

"Yet it's not enough to prove myself to them, Grandmother."

Now Celia sounded determined but angry, "You are every bit Tyrell as you are Targaryen. While you might not appear to their biased eye, there's never been denial that you are made in your mother's fire. Pure blooded or not, you're a dragon, my sweet petal."

"So?"

"Oh, for the love of the Gods - so, be a dragon! Dragons do not fret because men don't blink twice at them, they eat those men! Don't beg for approval; maintain your dignity, instill a new opinion, demand respect! Prove your strength, skill, and capabilities - everything the courts would deliberately overlook. Prove everyone wrong, offer contribution to this war, become a valuable asset who would be foolish to send away. Establish your seat at the table and never let anyone talk down on you again," your grandmother snarled with passion. "There's more than one way to prove you have the blood of the dragon."

"Such as? What would you have me do?"

"I hear rumor there remains a host of unclaimed dragons on Dragonstone. The Queen's son and heir, Prince Jacaerys, has called for dragonseeds to try their hand - they need more dragonriders for their war. Claiming your birthright might be the fastest, easiest way to earn the Realm's approval; doubling as undisputed evidence of who you are."

"What a terrifying thought."

"But what a statement it would make," Celia's lips pulled in a smirk, wrinkles deeper, more prominent on sun-soaked, wrinkled skin. "Tyrells might be flowery, we might sigil a rose - but we are resilient and refuse to wilt; even in the heat of dragon fire. The Realm thinks Tyrells are only pretty faces; pretty flowers meant to be seen and never heard, whose sole purpose is to be left on display. Preconceived as uselessly inexperienced during wartimes; criminally green, pure, innocent - judgement that makes them shockingly unprepared for how deep our thorns prick." Both of Celia's hands grabbed yours, squeezing, advising, "Do not go quietly, my petal, make those who doubted you be haunted by their foolish choice to challenge the wrong woman. Let them seep in humiliation and regret their judgement. Allow your successful conquest to be the biggest 'fuck you' to prejudice, the final nail in any coffin of doubt. Toss your wilted rose of fear aside, petal, embrace the fire that burns in your veins; you are Lady Y/N Tyrell of Highgarden, daughter of The Forgotten Princess, and you will not go gentle into that good night. You will be a dragon."

You were ensuring passage by morning light, intent to deliver yourself to Dragonstone.

Parts of the cave glittered with unharvested gems; a lost collection of rarities nobody dared pursue out of fear of the ancient, terrible Valyrian beasties that dwell in those caves. The walls sweat from combined dragon and volcanic heat, tunnels jagged and uneven; zero holes, cracks, or slits the sun could leak through (if it were up); everything terribly dark. At least there was a scattered pile of preprepared torches to light the way. A permanent odor of limestone and fractioned corpses assaulted your sinuses, dried puddles of blood seeped into rock, the scurrying critters who used dragons as hosts echoed with a twinkling charm - the least menacing reminder that you were not alone.

Claimed dragon chambers varied in size; pitstops along the winding pathways that ended at the largest chamber - a dead end. While other chambers were large enough for sometimes several dragons, this final stop could only be described as a jarring, stomach churning, hauntingly pitched ebony abyss of incalculable depth that played tricks on the mind. An abyss. It was like you were staring Death in the face and anxiety was dredged forth from white hot fear.

With a flickering torch alight in a trembling hand, you slowly stalked down the chiseled causeway that ended several lengths into the expansive, bleak nothingness. Pitch black shadows danced; the air felt electric, seemingly vibrating - alive and judgmental.

The glaring cavern besmirched your family name, hauntingly reminding that your disinheritance resulted in your late dragon bloom. The ebony airy sea identifies and heightens fearful insecurity about your estranged family's rejection, their lack of interest and care for your side of the family stinging; their rejection of familial relationships. The darkness predicted your failure, inability, and humiliation.

The cavern challenged your confidence and determination, your staked ownership and proclaimed lineage; labeling your bravery, beliefs and ambition as arrogant. It sneered about your stupidity, weakness, fear, and anxiety; belittled applied effort and desired goals; questioned your true desires and needs; tested your loyalty.

The cavern rejects any and all attempts before you could even try; unraveling your logic, shunning your emotions; proclaims reactive decisions as immature and lacking control, crowning you as dangerously naïve.

The cavern mocked your desperately pathetic need for station and acceptance; revoking and nullifying public (and private) ladyship, dubbing you unladylike - which, in itself, was insulting to your womanhood. Why do men get all the exciting adventure, but when a woman tries, she's crucified for being irresponsible? Smooth ebony waves reflected your maddening, constant effort and want for acknowledged contributions.

To the naked eye, the cavern appeared uninhabited, assuming the habitat was abandoned. The silence was eery; air buzzing with alarm, deceiving humans that attempted to see through the waves of darkness.

To a "true" Targaryen, this was just a sheet of camouflage the fire breathers wield for their privacy.

No wonder the Red Sowing was so... Bloody and devastating.

A growl was heard, something gravely and deep, intimidating and impressive. You frozen, eyes wide as if it would give you night vision, torch flickering, hands starting to shake. Then you saw prominent movement, lungs stalling and heart hammering. Slowly, a large, scaly, stained snout emerged at a sail's pace.

The more the beast stepped into your sight, your mind could only scream one thing - was coming face to face with a dragon logical or emotional? Because whether logical or emotional, this was a dumb fucking idea there was no turning back from.

So, you steeled yourself in position, dewy sweat lining your forehead to soak your hairline.

112 years After Conquest, dragons flew to war at the behest of the Targaryen family over Rhaenyra and her half-brother's claim to Aegon the Conqueror's Iron Throne. Sister-wife, Queen Visenya, rode Vhagar - said to have been the smallest dragon with bronze hide, yet, as rumor had it, still large enough that a horse could ride down her gullet. Sister-wife, Queen Rhaenys, rode Meraxes - who was larger; big enough to swallow horses whole with silver scales and golden eyes.

Then, The Conqueror, King Aegon Targaryen I, rode Balerion - the fiercest and largest, who’s wingspan could shadow entire towns, swords-long teeth assisting his ability to swallow mammoths whole, and who’s scales, wings, and fire were pitch black. Balerion was called the Black Dread and was so powerful, he could melt steel, stone, and fuse sand into glass. He never lost a battle - against human or dragon.

Balerion was also the dragon responsible for the Burning of Harrenhal, largest castle in Westeros.

In the year 2 BC, Aegon began his Conquest and engaged King Harren Hoare the Black in his keep, Harrenhal, who refused the Conqueror and was met with Balerion’s flames. In fire so hot, it melts stone like candles, the entire House Hoare was extinguished when Harren and his sons perished in the largest tower - later named Kingspyre Tower - though it’s said they haunt the Wailing Tower.

Since then, of Aegon's Three Dragons, only Meraxes boasted a single rider, but to be fair, in 10 AC, during the First Dornish War, allegedly, both Queen Rhaenys and Meraxes met their demise. Vhagar knew Prince Baelon Targaryen, Lady Laena Velaryon, and Prince Aemond as riders. Balerion knew Maegor the Cruel, Princess Aerea, and King Viserys, who, in the year 94, retired The Black Dread - thinking the beast was nearing his end. The dragon outlived every single rider.

In the year 129, Viserys died and The Black Dread stared you in the eye; curating a vibrating rumble deep within his chest that made the darkness dance. It'd been decades since anyone dared face this terrible beastie, thinking he wasn't long for this world; the pair of you curious about the other, no moves made yet.

There was no backing down, there was no turning away. This is what you wanted, for Aegon the Conqueror's mount to see you as you are - worthy of your of blood. You refused to be told you did not deserve your lineage, the Targaryen name, you would not endure disrespect any longer! You would earn your place in this Godsforsaken family, earn station in this Godsforsaken world, or die trying...

That night, Balerion took to the skies again, doing several laps in the air, soaring over King's Landing to let the residents of the Realm know - he flew again.

Your father's family hailed from The Reach, specifically Highgarden; colorful, temperate, lush, bountiful, and abundant. Your family oversaw 75% of the country's sole wheat, barley, grain, and corn production, even germinating the country's most grand gardens - which decorated a rather generous estate.

Despite the vast, open lands, there had never been need for a dragonpit before, so, when you landed your mount, he was left exposed on the outskirts of the Keep. Considering he was the largest thing, you know, ever, Balerion seemed content out there - so, you didn't worry.

It was strange, however, to see anyone without white hair on dragonback. Even stranger to the Realm to learn of your accomplishment; adding fuel to several fires.

The Green King Aegon asked lazily, a hand waving in the air, "Who?"

His mother, Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower, reminded, "She is of Targaryen seed on her mother's side, but was raised under the Tyrells. She sits to inherit all of The Reach, she will be Lady of Highgarden - "

"Until," Grand Maester Orwyle interjected softly, "her young brother, the Young Lord Tyrell, comes of age."

Aegon waved their words off, complaining, "Yes, yes, but why do we caaaaare about some red headed bitch?"

See, where the Targaryens had trademark white locks, the Lannisters had golden strands. The Starks had deep umber brunette color hair, and while both the Tully's and Tyrell's erred more on the reddish side, the Tully's had darker overtones, like an auburn, and the Tyrell's had lighter, coppery-amber waves. North of the Wall, they say "kissed by fire".

"Because Lady Tyrell has laid successful claim to The Black Dread! To Balerion!" Alicent snapped, quickly adding the snarky punctuation, "Your Grace."

"Well, we have Vhagar - "

"With respect, Your Grace, Balerion could give a singular chomp to any living dragon as Vhagar did Arrax and it would prove fatal," Otto Hightower, the King's grandfather and Hand, quickly stepped in to save his daughter from losing her temper.

"Well, she doesn't even speak High Valyrian," Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes; lip curled, slouched in his chair.

"Neither do you," Aemond quipped in his Father's Tongue.

Otto continued loudly to prevent Aegon's response, "With The Black Dread now officially out of retirement and in play, the only choice we have is risk facing him in open battle, or..." His eyes shifted to Alicent, pausing, sighing and revealing, "Send an emissary to negotiate terms of an alliance."

"Meaning...?" Aegon drawled.

"Meaning a marriage pact, Your Grace," Otto supplied sternly.

"With respect?" Larys Strong spoke up, "But the Crown is lacking in their eligible bachelors for such terms."

"Or perhaps, what of someone outside the family? Marry two strong allies of the Crowns? Alliances henceforth might not have to include Targaryen marriages," Jason Lannister threw in quickly, but every Small Council member denied him just as swift.

It was reminded, "There's Prince Daeron."

"Lady Tyrell is actually the same age as Prince Aemond, I do not think she is looking for a husband so many years younger than her."

"Didn't Prince Aemond already secure the Baratheons through a marriage alliance?"

"Technically," Otto agreed slowly, "but given the circumstances and turning of tides, Lord Borros can be treated with in other ways should we need to offer Aemond for Lady Tyrell's willing support."

"Rhaenyra will send terms, as well," Alicent reminded. "Lady Tyrell is Prince Jacaerys' age, she might consider breaking his engagement, too."

The Small Council continued their plotting. Prince Aemond remained silent. Nobody so much as threw him a glance.

When the Black Queen Rhaenyra was informed of your heroics and your identity was questioned, her uncle-husband, Daemon, informed, "Daughter of the Forgotten Princess."

And Rhaenys affirmed, "My sister's daughter... Do not mistake her lineage for guaranteed alliance; her mother and I are long estranged, she's lived in The Reach her whole life - she does not know us. Nor owes us any loyalty."

"Perhaps she could be persuaded," Corlys wondered. "The Lady Tyrell is unwed, is she not?"

"As far as accounts go, yes," his wife reported.

"Perhaps a marriage alliance?" Corlys glanced around the table.

"To whom would you propose?" Queen Rhaenyra asked, all sat around the Painted Table.

"If I may be so bold...?"

"Please."

"Given your marriage to Daemon and his daughter's are shared with our own daughter, Laena... Is there truly need for a marriage pact between the children?"

Rhaenyra cocked her head, "You mean to... Disengage my son from his intended, and engage him again...? Like a pawn in chess? My son, Heir to the Iron Throne, married to Lady Tyrell?"

"Why do you sound displeased by the prospect, Your Grace?" Corlys wondered. "I hear the Lady Tyrell is most beautiful, and we need the Tyrell's wealth like we need their dragon, Balerion. If used properly, he can melt castles alone, Your Grace; burn towns, extinguish entire bloodlines, torch this country, melt the bloody Wall. No living dragon rivals him in size, in ferocity, in age nor experience. He's been at rest for decades now... Something tells me there's a reason he's come out of his nest."

"An omen," Rhaenyra agreed, straightening her spine.

"Precisely - the portents are cast, Your Grace."

"Lord Corlys makes a point," Daemon chimed in, "if by marriage, we secure The Reach and take back the Iron Throne with little to no carnage. Should the Greens fight, not even Vhagar could stand against Balerion."

"Prince Jacaerys is a handsome match to offer," another lord agreed, "which should help sway Lady Tyrell to our side."

"Which also frees both Lady Baela and Rhaena for other pacts - if need be."

"But if we have had this thought, I promise so has Alicent," Rhaenyra stood from the table, staring at the triangle of King's Landing, Dragonstone, and Highgarden. "Who would they offer? Who do they have, unwed, unpromised?"

"Well," Rhaenys stood to meet her Queen, "if we had the thought of a marriage alliance, and the thought to break off one engagement in favor of another, who is to say the Greens would not consider the same?"

It was quiet, a shiver shooting down the Queen's spine. "Vhagar and Balerion are familiar with one another," she grit her teeth, "and Aemond is the False King's brother. He's an attractive match, too."

"I think it's worth making the Tyrell's an offer," Corlys sat back in his seat. "They will receive us both and decide their allegiance - just as the Baratheons did, just as the rest of the Realm has or must do as well."

"Let it be done - if Prince Jacaerys agrees," Rhaenyra nodded, looking to her son - wanting his consent and participation in his own fate. Jace proudly lifted his chin and puffed his chest, nodding while nobody noted the looks of near relief on Lady Baela and Rhaena's faces. In a moment, they had been engaged to Jace and Luke without their thought, input, nor consent. In another moment, they were single young women with the tantalizing prospect to marry outside the family.

"I consider Her Grace's offer an honor."

> > > next part, part two: read here

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

The Black Dread masterlist

i'm already writing it, but, poll for the end ―

[gracexthoughts]

northern hospitality

jacaerys velaryon x stark!reader

warnings; nothing really except use of y/n and reader description, barely edited

summary; jace flies to winterfell to ensure the north’s allegiance and finds himself entranced by northern beauty

a/n; I saw someone talk about how Cregan might have given Jace the cloak he wears on the wall bc it’s not the one he leaves/goes back to dragonstone in and I just had to write this edit: this is my first jace fic so suggestions and criticism is very welcome!!

The Prince Jacaerys shivers as he flies through the frigid Northern air on his way to Winterfell. His mission in the Eyrie was well met and his confidence bolstered in the promise of the Vale’s support of his mother’s claim. Vermax chitters as the castle of Winterfell appears on the horizon. The northern beauty is rumored through the realm but the young prince is still stunned by the sprawling majesty of the northern stronghold. Even if it is cruelly cold already in late summer.

Soon, Vermax lands on the frozen ground just outside the gates of the castle, which are open to await his arrival. Guards greet him reverently and escort him into the courtyard, where it seems the entire of Winterfell’s inhabitants stand and at the front of them stands Lord Cregan Stark, Warden of the North.

“Lord Stark, I am very glad to meet you,” the young prince smiles, stepping forward to meet his hosts.

“The pleasure is ours, my prince. Winterfell is yours,” Lord Cregan responds diplomatically.

“I thank you. It is not often I find myself in the North. While I detest the circumstances, I am glad for the opportunity,” Jacaerys smiles, his eyes taking in his surroundings before landing on the woman standing to Cregan’s side. The Lady Y/N, he assumes, Cregan’s younger sister. Her beauty is rumored even in the South but no amount of whispers could have prepared the young prince for the vision that stands before him. Her hair is black as night, woven away from her face to hang over her shoulder, a thick fur cloak fastened with direwolf pins, and her smoke gray eyes seem to gaze through his confident facade seeing the prince for the frightened young man he really is. He’s always heard northern women were different than southern women and he feels he can sense a wildness in her—a fire that burns hot even this place of ice and snow.

“We welcome the opportunity to show the crown the value in the North, my prince,” she says with a proud smile, her voice melodious and sure, her northern accent intriguing to the southern prince.

“Let us retreat inside to the hearth so we may hear what messages you have brought us.” The prince tears his eyes away from the lady to her elder brother and nods with a smile, thanking him while they walk towards the castle and the warmth it offers.

Cregan and Jacaerys spend most of the day in conference, discussing the politics of the realm and the usurpations of the Greens, Lady Y/N left to attend to her brother’s typical duties. Jacaerys is determined in his diplomacy for his cause but in the idle moments of the day, his mind drifts to the lady of the castle. That night, the prince sits in his chambers, thinking of his home and family, hoping Luke fared well in his own mission, and warming himself by the fire. He had come largely unprepared for the cold of the North, incorrectly thinking it wouldn’t be as frigid in the summer, and had been attempting to mask his chill the whole day. A knock on the door pulls Jacaerys from his thoughts and he stands, leaving the warm embrace of the fire, crossing the room to the door.

“Pardon me, my prince,” a small servant girl says with a curtsy, her eyes downcast, as the door is opened. She carries a large bundle of furs in her arms, the pile so large it nearly covers her face.

“What is this?” the prince asks, his eyes scanning the furs in the girl's arms.

“The Lady Y/N sends cloaks for you. She had worried the chill more than you had expected,” the girl says softly.

“Oh, thank you,” Jacaerys replies, gently taking the furs from the girl, and watches her scurry off down the hall. He smiles to himself, stepping back into his bedchambers and examining the cloaks. They were black leather and fur and looked much warmer than the cloak he had brought with him. Northern hospitality, he thinks to himself, a small laugh escaping his lips.

The next morning, Jacaerys wakes early, and begins wandering the halls of Winterfell and finds himself in one of the courtyards, his new cloak keeping him much warmer and allowing him to journey outside with comfort, and sees Lady Y/N practicing her archery against the far wall, a massive gray wolf at her side.

“Early morning training, my lady?” The prince inquires, standing a few feet from her, wary of the great wolf laying at her feet. She turns to him, her eyes surprised, and nods.

“I’ve not ever been one to sleep late, unfortunately,” she responds, setting the bow down against the basket of arrows. She wears black coats that hang to her knees and lined with white fur on the collar, contrasting greatly with her woven black hair, a silver wolf broach on her breast, and dark trousers rather than skirts.

“Neither am I, in truth. Years of first light training has made me an early riser,” the prince laughs, staring into the smoky swirls of the lady’s eyes. “Thank you,” he adds suddenly, “for the cloaks. You must think me quite foolish not to bring warmer clothes.” The prince shifts his weight on his feet, feeling stranger under her knowing gaze.

“Just that one so used to warmth and fire may chill faster than us children of snow,” Y/N responds, adjusting the leather gloves on her hands, a kind smile on her lips.

“You are kind, my lady. And right, of course. I am much warmer today, thanks to your generosity,” the prince says looking down at the black fur cloak that hangs around his broad shoulders. “Are you well used to the cold, then? Or are the clothes just better made for it?”

“Both,” the lady answers. “Though this is nothing compared to true winter.”

“This is warmth for you, is it?” The prince asks bewildered, pulling a laugh out of the Stark girl. The mist of their breath mingles between them. The land is all frosted over in the morning chill, a few specs of summer snow visible from its last fall.

“A bit, the height of summer is warmer but not anything like the heat of the south. Your dragon blood would want of that cloak even when us Northerners shed ours.” The prince laughs, struggling to fathom such cold when the wolf next to Y/N stands suddenly, startling the prince slightly.

“Don’t mind Shadow, she’s tame,” Y/N chuckles, as the wolf nudges her leg and her gloved hand stroking the wolf’s fur.

“I didn’t know there were any direwolves south of the Wall. Let alone tame ones,” the young prince awes.

“Neither were dragons tame until your ancestors bound themselves to them. You’re not the only house with connections to great creatures,” she reminds him. “When I was a young girl, my father went to visit the Wall, took Cregan and I with him. One of the Rangers took us out riding just beyond the Wall and we came across Shadow. She was just a pup and quite injured. I begged my father to let me take her back home. Luckily, I can be quite convincing when I wish to be. She’s been my loyal friend ever since.”

“You have a kind heart, my lady,” Jacaerys says, eying the wolf with caution.

“You don’t have to be afraid of her. You can even pet her if you’d like. She won’t bite, unless I tell her to,” she teases, trying and failing to hide a sly smile.

“I am content as an observer, but thank you.”

“You were raised with dragons and yet you fear a wolf?”

“Dragons I know, wolves not as much. Would you like to meet a dragon?” The prince offers suddenly, smiling widely. Y/N meets his eyes, pausing for a moment, searching his eyes wondering if he really means it.

“Really?” Y/N’s smoke gray eyes are wide. The prince smiles, nodding and reaches out a hand to her. The lady hesitates for a moment before smiling wider and takes the prince’s hand. He leads her quickly across the frozen ground to where his dragon has been staying. As they approach, Y/N watches the creature carefully. His emerald green scales gleaming in the afternoon light.

The dragon groans softly as his rider approaches, Jacaerys eagerly approaching the creature and extending his hand to rest on the dragon’s large snout. “This is Vermax,” the prince says and Vermax sighs contentedly at Jacaerys’ touch, warm breath blowing his dark curls back slightly. Y/N hangs back, watching the interaction with awe.

“What are you waiting for?” The prince laughs over his shoulder.

“Exercising caution, my prince,” the lady says breathlessly.

“He won’t bite. Unless I ask him to, of course,” Jacaerys teases, the Lady smiling at his use of her words. The Prince eyes her momentarily before reaching his hand back, grabbing hers and pulling her closer. The prince takes her hand and places it on Vermax’s snout, his softly over top her own, guiding her gentle pets of the beast. Vermax chitters softly but Y/N mind is elsewhere, her thoughts not on the creature before her but the prince at her back. His hand on her shoulder, her hand in his against the powerful creature he has grown with, his breath ghosting against her cheek.

“See? Nothing to fear,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“No, just a fire breathing dragon that could swallow me whole,” Y/N laughs slightly. The prince releases his grip, stepping away from both creatures. “He’s beautiful,” she adds, stepping away as well and turning to face the prince with her cheeks feeling warmer than moments before.

“Thank you. Maybe I can take you on a ride one day,” Jacaerys offers, enjoying the thought of riding with her.

“I would like that, if you’d have me,” she nods, their eyes locked for a tense moment, lost in the swirls of each other's eyes.

“My Prince, My Lady,” a voice breaks the moment and the pair turn to see a page making his way toward them. “I have been sent to inform you breakfast is laid.”

“Thank you, Noran,” Y/N responds, the page bowing slightly before retreating. “Hungry, my prince?”

“Jace, just call me Jace,” he says suddenly, surprising himself and her. “And yes, I’m famished,” the prince smiles, and allows her to lead him back towards the castle, his mind concocting all kinds of ways to spend more time with her.

[darknight3904]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖈𝖊

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴏᴄ! ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʟᴀᴅʏ ʀʜᴀᴇʟʟᴀ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʟɪꜰᴇ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ʀᴜɴᴇꜱᴛᴏɴᴇ. ꜱʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ɴᴏ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ꜱʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜʟʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ. ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴋɪɴɢ ᴠɪꜱᴇʀʏꜱ ɪ, ꜱʜᴇ ᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴇʏꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴋɪɴɢꜱ ʟᴀɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ꜱʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ'ꜱ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴀɪɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɪꜱᴏʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪx

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɴᴇ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇʟᴠᴇ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜɪʀᴛᴇᴇɴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀᴛᴇᴇɴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪꜰᴛᴇᴇɴ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪxᴛᴇᴇɴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴇᴇɴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛᴇᴇɴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɴᴇᴛᴇᴇɴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ᴏɴᴇ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ᴛᴡᴏ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ꜰᴏᴜʀ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ꜰɪᴠᴇ

ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴜꜱ: ɪɴ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴇꜱꜱ (Hiatus)

ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴘɪᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴘᴜʙʟɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ. ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀᴄᴇ ɪꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴀᴠᴀɪʟᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

[myladysapphire]

You belong with me

you and jace were childhood friends, you never left eachothers side growing up, but that all changed once you both went off to university.

CW: MDI, 18+, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, angst, jealousy, unrequited love (kinda), love confessions, not proofread!

word count: 5,896

modern Jace x fem!reader

Masterlist

a/n based of taylor swifts you belong with me, lyrics and music video.i also have very little knowledge of american uni or football, but i tried my best though!

You and Jace had grown up, side by side. Your mothers had been the best of friends, and so naturally you both were also. For your entire lives you knew everything about each other, your traits your habits, you knew each other better than you knew yourselves. You made every decision together, especially the decision to go to Dragonstone university together.

And that decision changed everything.

It wasn’t a surprise that Jace became so popular, he always had been. Always so able to draw a crowd and make friends in any situation.

And you, you had always been one to take a backseat. Happy in the friends you had, and never one to put yourself out there as he did.

And sadly, that seemed to be your first mistake.

He had joined the football team, finding new friends and a new crowd quickly.

You stuck to your old friends. Making small efforts to know the endless crowds of people at university.

And so, he and you started to spend less time together, and more and more time apart.

And then he got a girlfriend.

Sara Snow.

The cheer captain.

And the sister of his new best friend, Cregan Stark.

And suddenly you weren’t apart of his life anymore. You had found out he had a girlfriend from sitting on the bleachers at one of his games and seeing her run towards him and shove her tongue down his throat.

As time went on, your texts to one another became less and less, your replies delayed, and sporadic, and his ever more so.

Your study sessions stop, nights in together became nights in apart.

It hurt, you had loved him for so long, as a friend and a lover. Not that he knew. All you could do no was stare in envy as you lost your best friend and never even got a chance to say goodbye.

That year was a strange one, you now watched each other from the outskirts, you didn’t know each other every thought or where they were at all times.

Ther person you looked to in every room, no longer there, no longer was he the person you would text at every opportunity, or share looks as you reacted to what other people were saying.

Now you only knew each other in passing, a few texts here and there, mostly about your course, or if you were going home for summer or the weekend.

And when you both were home, it was so different. Once you would spend all day together, planning your days with each other. And now, you may sit in the same room, but little more than small smiles and small talk was shared between you.

And the few times you did feel you could talk to him; he would be, interrupted by his new friends coming to whisk him away.

The last three years you started to get used to not having Jace as a constant presence, instead you found great comfort in your other friends, you had always been close to them, and apart of you was grateful as you began to realise the love of female friendships, rather than just the love of Jacearys Strong.

It was Friday, the week before the big football game. The game everyone talked nonstop about, even Jace, as he had messaged you asking if you were coming to the game.

You had yet to respond.

Once you were his biggest cheerleader, sitting on the bleachers shouting his name. Now you no longer cheered his name, though you always sent him a kind smile when he did look for you in the crowd.

But unlike before you no longer went to every game, and as time went on you went to less and less.

 “Are you going to the game on Friday?” Maris asked. You were all sat in a private study room, preparing for your midterms.

You shrugged “maybe, I’m not sure yet”

“of course, we all are! It’s the big game, everyone’s talked about it nonstop!” Baela said beside you, “and I also don’t want to miss watching Cregan stark all hot and sweaty, now would I?” she said with a laugh, she and him had been casually hooking up for a past year, and with the way he looked at her she was sure they were soon to become more.

You laughed, “perhaps for you maybe, not that I have anyone worth ogling over”.

“Sure, you don’t” Heleana giggled from the other side of the table “poor Jacey would miss you terribly if you don’t go”.

“Oh please, he wouldn’t care if I was there or not” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh? Aside from his on again off again weird little thing with Sara Snow, Jace is, besotted with you!” Maris interjected.

“she’s not wrong” Rhaena spoke,

“Really?” you shook your head, “perhaps once, but he rarely speaks more than a few words to me anymore”.

“Perhaps that’s because he realised how hot you are” Baela said, sending you a wink.

“Oh gods, do you remember the look on his face when you slept with Justin Lannister in our first year” Maris laughed, “he looked like a kicked puppy!”

“Especially when he saw the hickey he had left” Heleana added.

You shook your head “I think he was more disgusted with the fact I slept with Justin than anything else”.

“hmm” Rhaena hummed, “and when you and Aemond dated in high school, what about then?”

“Oh gods, don’t bring that up” Heleana grumbled, “it still brings me nightmares, from when I walked in- “she fakes gagged at the memory.

“Okay stop it, I think you’ve all proved your point!” you sighed, “maybe once he had a crush on me, but not anymore!”

They all shared a look.

“And what about your crush on him?”

“What crush?” you said defensively.

They all laughed.

You stood up dramatic, gathering your books, “if I go to the game will you all shut up?”

“We make no promises!” Maris said, laughing once more.

“Ughh, I don’t know why I put up with you lot” you grumbled, as you went to leave.

“Because you love us” Heleana, answered.

“And Jacey too” Baela added.

you rolled your eyes as you left, heading home for the weekend.

You returned home often, your mother was all alone with out you there, though you did often find Rhaenyra, Jace’s mother, in her company. You loved seeing them both, finding Rhaenrya presence to be as much as a comfort as your own mothers.

Its one of the reasons your friendship with Jace fading into what it was now, hurt so much.

Before you had practically lived at Jace’s house growing up and now you rarely went over there, despite living next door, your bedroom windows facing one another. It hurt, seeing the life you knew suddenly disappear. To spend the summers in your own home, having your friends come to yours rather than to his, especially when you could see him on his bed, and you on yours.

He had changed, though not so much that he seemed a stranger to you, though his company was certainly strange. He knows hung out around Aegon a lot more, though he had once avoided him as often as he could. You were glad he had yet to adopt Aegon’s personality, the self-entitlement mixed with the self-loathing. Jace remained kind, his gaze often on yours whenever you were in the same room together. Something you had heard Aegon mock on several occasions.

As you walked into your house, the taste of cinnamon and sound of laughter flooded your senses. It was no surprise to see your mother in the kitchen, and even less of a surprise to see Rhaenyra with her, a smile graced your face as you approached the pair.

“mama” you greeted, “Nyra”.

“Oh darling, I didn’t know you were coming home!” your mother greeted, pulling you into a hug.

“I came home to study, I couldn’t focus with all the football stuff going on” you sighed, dumping your bag on the kitchen table.

Rhaenyra laughed, “yes Jace has talked nonstop about the football” she then looked at you with a sad look, “are you planning to go?”

“I’m not sure yet” you replied, stealing one of your mother’s cinnamon rolls from the counter.

“I’m sure Jace wants you there, he misses your rituals you know” Nyra spoke, coming to sit down at the table you now sat at.

“He does?” you did too, he was the reason you got into football in the first place and watching him without your rituals or watching games without Jace’s constant commentary.

“I know he does” she smiled, reaching for your hand, as your mother moved towards to the table.

“Believe it or not, darling, he talks about you often” she gave you a teasing look.

You shook your head, “if only he talked to me and not about me more” moving to stand up and head for your room.

“He said he was coming back this week, perhaps he will” Nyra called out as you started to walk up the stairs.

As you lay on your bed, your eyes moving to investigate Jace’s room. You laid there for a while, hoping they would open.

And they did. He had clearly just returned home just like yourself, his face tired, as he moved to sit on his bed, his face downcast, no smile in sight.         

You moved to sit up, and as you did, he saw you, a small smile gracing his face.

He sent you a small shy wave, and for a moment you felt as if you and he were back to normal.

But then his smile disappeared as his phone rang.

She tried to not watch as he argued with someone, his girlfriend you assumed. They always argued, she was always upset about something he had said, she never got his humour, not like you once did.

You couldn’t think of anything they truly had in common, then again you didn’t know either of them, not anymore.

On paper It made sense them being together, she was cheer captain and he on the football team, whilst you, you were on the bleachers, watching the game and waiting for his victory, whilst she would cheer him on, in his direct view. Ever the supporting act, and you the extra.

Before Uni, you and been his biggest and though you still supported him, it hurt a little seeing her cheer his name, especially since you never knew if they were off or on again until her, she shoved her tongue down his throat.

You and he used to have a ritual before each game. the day before you would always bunk of school, and he would always somehow convince you to join him on his run, you would run side by side, your phones listening to same playlist. (You and he had always had the exact same music taste, music she didn’t like, if the  though few parties hosted by his frat and her sorority were anything to go off of)Then you would spend the night staying up and watching the same three movies, before falling into a sugar induced coma only to be woken up by Nyra and Luke aggressively shilling you both awake screaming that your going to be late, and when you did finally wake up Jace would always force you both to take an ice bath, claiming it to be a good way to wake you up. You never believed him, and it would take him pulling you into the water with him for you to join him.

You would be there for every game and event, cheering from the bleachers.

And now as you watched him arguing with his girlfriend, you wished you knew what they were saying, there issues. A part of you regretted not trying harder to stay friends with him, even though it was him who moved away from you, not you away from him.

You reached down under your bed, trying to find the old sketchbook you used to use to talk to Jace before you both had phones.

You didn’t have his number anymore, having deleted it off your phone, though you remembered it off by heart, a part, something you could never bring yourself to forget it.

You didn’t want to text him, it didn’t feel right, you are reaching out first almost didn’t feel right either but eh looked hurt and you deep down still cared.

Finding a pen you quickly wrote, “you, okay?” Finding a pen you quickly wrote, “are you okay?”

He had sat down on his bed, head in his hands before looking up to see you turn the paper around.

A smile graced his face as he shrugged and reached for his own sketchbook and pen.

“Tired of drama” he wrote.

You laughed a little at his message, writing “sorry” with a sad face beside it, shrugging as you turned the paper around

And he shook his head, moving to stand up as you went to write something else, only for him to shut his curtain before he could see what you wrote. 

You shrugged of his easy dismissal, and how so few words were exchanged before he decided to end the conversation.

You had finished you studying, content and ready for your exams, so blasting your music on full volume you started to dance around your room.

Unbeknownst to you, he watched you dance, a smile pulling at his face as he realised you were the same as always. You danced like no one was watching singing along to the songs as you did. And he smiled, laughing at your antics as he remembered how you used to pull him up and dance with you.

He regretted how he ended his friendship with abandoning you, he wasn’t even sure why he did it. He knew he hurt you. He feltBu, for his own selfish somehow, he had made gain. He had made new friends; he, he was popular and on the uni football team. He liked the spotlight always had and was half to have all these new friends. He had made a great bond with but in doing so he lost his truest friend and the woman he loved.

He had decided to talk to you, to apologise and make up for what he did. So, as he saw you at outside the bench outside both your houses he came over and sat beside you. So, as he saw yous at outside the bench outside both your houses he came over and say beside you.

“hey” you heard a voice say beside you, as you turned your head to see Jace sit beside you.

“hey” you said back, as your hair falling in front of your face. He reached his hand forward, to brush the hair out of your eyes, and tucking it behind your ear.

 “How have you been?” he asked, his hand lingering slightly. You stared at him fro a moment, he still dressed the same, with the same worn-out jeans, the same smile, but with better hair.

You supposed you looked entirely different, though at the same time you hadn’t changed either. Your curled hair was no longer a frizzy messed, but well maintained. You didn’t wear your glasses much anymore, now favouring contacts. He seemed to smile as he took you in, staring at your eyes.

“I’m good, you?”

“Good, excited for the game…” he kept talking and it felt like old times again, you thought, it was so easy, to return to how it once was, chatting about nothing in particular.

He smiled as he spoke to you, happily chatting away. His smile was the same as always, a smile you sworn could light up a town.

“I haven’t seen you in a while” you said after a pause.

“yeah” he said awkwardly, scratching his head “I’m sorry about that, I never meant to- “a car pulled up, with Sara Snow in it.

He got up suddenly, mumbling goodbye as he did. His smile had faded, and turned into a forced smile, the kind of smile you gave to a stranger you passed in the hallway, as he got into her car. She instantly pulled him in for a kiss, her eyes staring you down as she did.

You had never actually talked to her before, never known anyone who had, but you did know Cregan, though not well, and he rarely said anything nice about his sister.

They drove away after that, Jace looking at you over his shoulder as they did.

The rest of the day you kept too yourself, focusing on studying. Jace had yet to return home, the light off in his room. Not that you were checking.

He had sent you a text, “sorry”, nothing more. You hadn’t replied, you didn’t even know what to say.

From the corner of your eye, you saw the light in his room turn on.

He walked in with a downtrodden look. He had spent the whole day with her and felt only regret on not spending it with you.

He and sara were on and off again, never anything serious, no feelings past lust. Especially after how she talked about you today. He ended it officially, and he couldn’t be happier. Especially when he saw yous at at your bed.

He reached under his bed for his sketchbook, reminiscing on how even as children you couldn’t spend an hour with out talking to one another.

It had all changed after uni, and he regretted not dragging you with him as he changed.

“hey” he wrote holding it up hoping you would look, and as luck would have it you did.

You seemed unsure as you yourself grabbed your own sketchbook, writing the words.

“what’s up?”

“I wanted to see if you were okay”.

You furrowed your brows “yeah?”

He sent you a small smile, before grabbing his phone and calling you.

“Hey?” you answered, your tone nervous.

“Hey!” he said trying to lighten your mood a little, “i’m sorry about earlier it won’t happen again”.

Yous kissed your teeth nodding your head, “right” his actions early hadn’t supposed you, they only made you realise that you and he won’t ever return to how you were before. Choosing each other first always, and never up and leaving each other mid conversation.

“I…. i broke up with her, officially”.

You hummed, he nervously coughed.

“I I know I hurt you when I started dating her, and i…I am so sorry, I just got so caught up in the idea of it all, these…these past few years have been a torment to me, watching as you seemed perfectly okay with us not…not being us anymore and I didn’t know how to…how to talk to you or-“

“i wasn’t perfectly okay with it” you interrupted him “at not point was I okay with loosing my best friend” you shook your head, glaring at him through the window “I tried to talk to you  and you shook me off, you chose her over an 18  year long friendship, how would I be okay with It!”

“I didn’t!” he said quickly, his face panicked, “I-I I messaged you I swear I did I sent you so many messages and you never replied”.

“No, you didn’t, I get the odd one but the second is as her shove her tongue down your throat I haven’t received these “many messages” you claim to have sent”.

“what?” he looked shocked through the window, “I told you about her, how I got drunk and slept with her at a party and how she wouldn’t take no as an answer, you never replied, I sent you countless texts about going to study together or hanging out and you never showed up!”

“What! You never showed up when I asked you!” you were near shouting now.

“You never asked me- “

“Neither did you!”

You heard your mum call you are asking if you were okay. You went silent, “we can’t do this over the phone”.

“Meet me at the backdoor” you looked at him nodding your head.

“hey” you said as Jace opened his back door, pulling it closed behind him.

“hey” he said moving towards you, “look, clearly there was some reason we never got these texts”.

You looked at him in disbelief, shaking your head, “gods Jace I didn’t realise you were so blind!” you laughed, “look I don’t know her or anything about her but, are you sure Sara never used your phone and maybe deleted the messages?”

“Umm…no?” he said unsure, “why would she do that”.

“Oh, please Jace, you and I have known each other our whole lives, and when we first started uni, we were acting like a married couple, she probably wanted me out the way so she could date you”.

“But we weren’t…we’ve never- “he stuttered awkwardly.

“Have you never once thought of me-?”

He cut you off, “no!” he said it too fast, so fast that you were unsure if he meant it.

“Really? Because I have, I did” you replied, sending him a shy look. You had hopped he had to and that you are saying this would make him say it in return.

He looked at you shocked, not expecting your admission, then his face turned guilty.  “I know” he said looking down, “but at the time I- I saw you nothing more than a…a friend and so I…I dated Sara to push you away in hope you would stop seeing me as more than a friend.” He scratched his head awkwardly, looking down his eyes filled with guilt.

 “oh” that’s all you could say. It was the first time you had ever admitted you had actually liked him, and to be rejected so clearly. To know the reason why he was with Sara, the reason he was with her in the first place was to get rid of you, it hurt more than three years of only passing words and fading friendship.

“I. I’m sorry I… I broke up with her though”.

You laughed a humourless laugh, almost in disbelief “I well that makes what you said better” you scoffed, truing around to leave.

He grabbed your arm, “No…I” he whispered your name, “I… I do like you like that… I’m just before her id dint realise my feelings for you and I do know…”

You scoffed, “right… so it took fucking another woman and ignoring me for three years, to save me from my feeling, made you realise you liked me to?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

You laughed, a short scoff of a laugh, “by the gods Jace you’re an idiot” this time when he grabbed your arm as you went to leave you only shook him off, storming up to your room and leaving the curtains shut for the rest of the weekend.

That week you swear you saw Jace everywhere. He seemed to follow you almost.

Though you were both doing the same course, meaning 90% of your lectures were together.

“Why is Jace following you?” Maris asked as you both walked out of your seminar.

“Oh gods, I haven’t told you, have I?”

She laughed, intrigued, “no, what happened”.

You looked down laughing as you tried to tell her, “Well Jace and I finally talked and he… admitted he liked me?”

“What!”

“that’s not it… but he also told me that he knew I liked him and that was the reason he started dating Sara… so I would stop liking him”.

“What the hells?” Baela said as she caught up to the pair of you, “did I just hear that right”.

“don’t even get me started! But I basically told him he was an idiot; I mean who hurts someone like that!”

“Idiots!” Maris and Baela said simultaneously.

And as they did you saw Jace appear from around the corner, two coffees in hand. He had a hopeful look in his eyes as he walked towards you.

“Speak of the devil” you mumbled, as you turned to your friends, “I’ll be back in a minute” you said as you walked towards him.

“Jace” you greeted. “What do you want now?”

“To apologise” he said handing you a coffee, “I really am sorry, I never should have done what I did, and I should have told you, and not kept it from you.” He looked at you, his face kin to puppy scrounging for food.

“Then why did you?” You said as you ushered him to an empty room.

“I was scared. “He admitted, smiling shyly, “all my life I had loved you and everyone told me you did too, and then. then you and Aemond started dating and I thought they all were lying to me and how could you ever love me and when you could be with him”

In truth it took you until after your relationship with Aemond to realise your feelings for Jace, in fact it was Aemond who broke up with you because he saw said feelings first.

He continued. “And then you broke up and everyone was telling me to take a chance, and then uni started, and I got scared and realised that you did I fact like me too. But for some reason I was convinced that being in a relationship in uni would only tear us apart. So… so I decided to take a step back and stop whatever romantic feelings we had- “

“That wasn’t your choice to make Jace, maybe for yourself but my own feelings? You had no right!”

“I know… I know. I was- I am an idiot and…I’m sorry, truly.”

You sighed, you could see he was really sorry, and yet an apart of you didn’t want to forgive him. But another part of you wanted to jump into his arms and forgive him.

“I want us to be friends.” He said, with a hopeful gaze. And your heart broke all other again.

“no” you stepped back, “you know of my feelings, and… I-I can’t be your friend, I can’t ignore those feelings, I won’t, I can’t” tears welled in your eyes at the look on his face.

“I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have loved you my whole life, and I have already screwed that up, I can’t risk whatever we have now for a relationship.” “we have nothing, we are not friends, not lovers, nothing. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain”.

“No, I have everything to lose, I have already lost your friendship, I can’t risk breaking your heart and loosing you forever!”

“So, because you’re afraid of the possibility of us breaking up you won’t try?” you shook your head, “I can’t believe you! I don’t understand what you want! And you clearly don’t see what I want either!” you went to leave, “I can’t anymore Jace, I just want, I can’t look at you without my heartbreaking. You broke my heart and our friendship once before because you feared losing me forever, well know I think you might have lost me anyway.”

You left without another word or a single glance.

The week passed slowly, your friends were a great comfort and your exams seemed to breeze past you, but the nagging in your back of your mind was constant.

The regret and want. The want to see Jace, to take back what you said and make him realise what an idiot he was. And the regret from not grabbing his face and kissing him.

You and he had been each other’s first kiss, using the excuse of ‘practice’ to cover up you real feelings. It had been awkward, with nose and teeth clashing, and then before you knew it the kisses became perfect, casual even. You had both been sure it was the start of something. And then you ruined it by saying yes when Aemond asked you on a date. You never regretted dating him, he was your first love, your first everything. But not your first kiss. He made you realise what love was and that it was what you had with Jace all along.

Then University started, you lived in the same halls, saw each other every moment of everyday, cooking together, studying together. And then the casual kissing came back. Sweet kisses goodbye or good morning. And then one day you had lingered, and he had pushed back. Your daily routine faded, and then it all happened. The football team and Sara Snow.

It would of been better had he just stopped kissing you, stopped initiating the kisses. Instead, he left you, and now you had done the same to him.

And yet here you stood, getting ready for the big football game, with all your friends.

You wore a jersey, his. The day he got on the team he had gotten you both a jersey. It had sat unworn in a box under your bed since then. It fit perfectly, his name written in bold on the back, alongside his lucky number. The number you had picked, the number that was conveniently todays date.

You stared into the mirror taking a deep breath as your friends all readied themselves. You weren’t sure exactly what you planned to do, but either way Jace would regret ever saying no to dating you.

Everyone was at the game, including the entirety of Jace’s family, you found yourself sat next to Rhaenrya and Luke. You sat right at the front, practically, on the field, meaning Jace could see you, and more importantly you in his jersey. They had all taken notice of your jersey, with Harwin sending you a teasing look.

It was loud and chaotic, the entirety of the university at the event and for good cause as Jace’s team had won.

You hadn’t really paid any attention, your eyes solely focused of Jace.  

He made eye contact with you, solely you and came rushing forward. You stood up moving yourself and before you knew it, he had sweeped you up into is arms. Spinning you around, he whispered like a chant “I’m so sorry, I regret everything I never should have- “

You shut him up, taking his mouth with yours in a slow passionate kiss. Moaning into each other’s mouths, you realised you both had got on lost in the crowd, as everyone had run into the field. Leaving you to find a moment alone, to finally reconnect and admit your feelings.

“Come with me” he said grabbing your hand, leading you away from the crowd and field.

“I’ve never taken anyone here before” he said once you finally reached your destination, it was a sweet little outlook with a view of the island. “The day I found it I wanted to save it, for you”.

You looked at each other, hands entwined.

“I love you” you both said in unison, bringing a smile to each of your faces.  

“I am so sorry about everything, I don’t know why I said what I did, why I asked to be friends and nothing more. I’m a fool”

“You’re my fool” you laughed, “in fact were both fools, I don’t know why we kept this from each other for 21 years. “You laughed, before reaching forward and kissing him again.

It was so different from your years of practice kisses. They were deliberate and sweet. This was hot, passionate and desperate.

“Gods, I need you” he moaned into your mouth, as he backed you up onto a tree, his hands descending to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your bodies stating to slowly grind against one another as your tongues battled for dominance, his eventually winning, as he took you in for one last heated kiss before his lips began deciding down your neck.

“Please.” You begged, as you reached down to pull of his jersey, you wore nothing underneath, your bare breasts on show.

He moaned at the sight of them, before taking your nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking as he did. Low moans spilling out of you as he did.  You gripped his hair as he continued his ministrations, before pulling him of your breast and reaching up to undress him. Soon you were both bare, if anyone was to walk by, they would easily you, but neither of you seemed to care as Jace moved to kiss you again his hand reaching down to caress your wet cunt, shuddering as he penetrated your hole.

As he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, your moans swallowed by his mouth as you felt yourself tighten around his fingers your peak edging closer and closer, before he withdrew his fingers causing a moan of protest as his fingers left you.

“Keep going” you pleaded, but he simply shook his head, before going on his knees, your leg moving o his shoulder as he licked your cunt. He lapped you up like he was dying, and you were his final meal. Licking up all your juices before finally reaching your clit, his fingers hand made there way back to your cunt, as you felt his finger penetrate you once more as he sucked your clit into his mouth.

You moaned loudly as he did so, making no effort to hide your pleasure, as you gripped his hair and started to ride his face until you finally came.

he stood up slowly, before once again pulling you into heated kiss.

“You taste divine” he moaned into your mouth, before groaning as you reached for his cock. “jump” he groaned, and as you allowing him to thrust, into you in one slick movement as you wrapped your legs around his waist, causing you both to moan simultaneously, as your walls wrapped around his length tightly, he didn’t move for a moment, allowing you both to adjust before he started to pump his hips slowly into you, building up a rhyme.

“Gods you moaned,” gripping onto him tightly, as he started to pound into you, you both moaning as his pace picked up.

His face was buried in your neck, leaving kisses you where sure would leave a mark.

He continued to thrust his hips, pounding into you as your peaks grew closer and closer, his cock throbbing inside you as your cunt tightened around his length.

“I’m going to cum” he whined. “Fuck, where?” he asked, reaching down to rub your clit, prompting you closer and closer to Cumming with him.

“Inside…I’m on the pill” you said between moans and before you knew it you felt the warmness of him spreads inside you as you came yourself, gripping tightly on his arms as you did.

You took a moment, leaning against, him and him you.

“Why did we wait so long to do this again?” he asked catching his breath.

“Because you’re an idiot”.

He laughed, “and I will spend every day making it up to you I swear” he kissed you softly, as if sealing his promise in a kiss, a promise you knew he would keep “I should have known, you belong with me”.

taglist

@apollonshootafar @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @zillahvathek @leavesmealobe @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @RAYNETARGARYEN2 @cloboboo @now-i-have-a-new-obsession

to be added to taglist

[drgnmnts]

knuckles bruised (like violets) │ jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!OC

Title: knuckles bruised (like violets)

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!OC (Daenys Targaryen, daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Alicent Hightower)

Summary: There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin, especially for those caught in between, longing only for peace as they're met with fire and blood.

_______________________________________________

Chapter 4 - Belonging

📢A/N: JACE HAS CURLY HAIR. LET'S FORGET THAT WIG EVER EXISTED, OKAY? IMAGINE THIS JACE WITH CURLY HAIR. I WOULD GO TO WAR FOR THOSE CURLS. 📢

Word count: 3.4k

SIX YEARS LATER

“Limbās, Silverwing.” 

Slower. 

The powerful beat of the she-dragon’s wings came to a stop as she let her enormous body glide steadily through the clouds, her iridescent scales glistening like precious jewels in the sun’s embrace. 

As she circled around Bronzegate, right above Storm’s End, Daenys could descry King’s Landing on the other side of the Kingswood. 

Despite Rhaenyra giving her full agency to visit the capital whenever she so desired, the truth was that Daenys had only flown back to see her family three times in the time she had spent living at Dragonstone. 

The first time had been a couple of months after her departure, upon receiving a letter from her mother in which the queen told her she missed her. When she arrived, Alicent had stared at her in confusion, as if she hadn’t expected her daughter to interpret her words as an invitation. 

The second time had been for Aegon and Helaena’s wedding, but she was back at Dragonstone before the bedding ceremony. 

The third time was a year later, when Helaena had given birth to Jahaerys and Jahaera, and it had pained Daenys terribly to say goodbye to her dear niece and nephew. 

After that, she had never returned.

Across the expanse of trees, Vhagar’s silhouette stood out, too big to be kept in the Dragonpit with the others. Daenys had encountered Aemond several times throughout the years, both siblings finding the coast of Tarth their preferred place to rest after a long ride. They had never spoken to each other, perhaps out of fear of not knowing what to say, or perhaps (and this Daenys would never admit out loud) because Aemond had grown up to become quite an intimidating young man, and Daenys wasn’t sure whether he would be up for a conversation or a shared meal. She didn’t really know him anymore, and a big part of that was her fault.

As she ordered Silverwing to head back to Dragonstone, the dragon’s sinuous movements beneath Daenys so familiar and a testament to its formidable strength, Daenys wondered if her brothers ever thought of her. She knew Helaena did, as the sisters often sent letters to each other to keep in touch and share whatever news they may have, but she hadn’t heard from the boys in years, not even from Daeron. 

“Lantā mēre,” she commanded after a few hours in complete silence as Silverwing approached the Dragonmont and, as her rider requested, the dragon descended gently. 

Daenys was sore after such a long ride, though this kind of pain she was happy to endure.

“We imagined you in Essos already,” welcomed her Daemon, covered in ash and dirt as a result of one of his expeditions to the volcanic tunnels searching for eggs.

“I am ten-and-seven, Uncle. How come you still worry about me as if I were a child?” she asked, smiling at him as she let the dragonkeepers tend to Silverwing.

“When did I say I was worried?” he wondered, feigning confusion, as he properly greeted his niece with a side hug. His other arm was occupied with a satchel, where she assumed he had placed Syrax’s eggs.

“How many?” she asked, pointing at the leather bag.

“Three,” he said, clearly overjoyed by the new addition to the Dragonmont collection. “We would have more if you let Silverwing rest for a bit, being able to coil with Vermax would have her producing eggs in no time.”

Daenys let out a small laugh. “You ask too much of me, Uncle,” she replied. “Speaking of Vermax, where is Jace?”

______________________________

After a quick bath and a change of clothes, Daenys followed Daemon's indications about Jace's whereabouts. His High Valyrian lessons always took place in the Great Hall, where he practiced with old texts and the invaluable help of Maester Gerardys.

"Vezhof, Maestur. Iā iāhor naejot ābrot ñuha lentys' tresys isse hāedrys," she said as she walked down the stairs. You may leave, Maester. I wish to instruct my sister's son this morning.

“Certainly, Princess.”

As Maester Gerardys left the room, Jace stood in his place, hands joined at his back, waiting for his aunt to take the maester’s place next to him. Daenys could feel his warm gaze on her, but she didn’t meet his eye; instead, she scanned the page they had been practicing with and continued the lesson where the maester had left it.

“Aegon mazverdagon lēkia rȳ ondoso lentor bē skoros,” she read.

Jace repeated the sentence a few times, and tried his luck at the translation:

“Aegon… built a small wooden fort… atop the hill”.

“Sȳrī jorrāelagon, ñuha dārilaros,” Daenys said. Well done, my prince.  “Dāria voktys belmonda zūgusy issa nāpār lēkia.”

This one took a bit longer. It was a difficult text but she knew Jacaerys was eager to become fluent, which made this kind of practice necessary.

“The city expanded… fast?” he tried. He used to be ashamed of speaking High Valyrian in front of her, too embarrassed of his struggles when it clearly rolled so easily off her tongue, but he enjoyed her lessons way too much to miss them due to his own self-consciousness.

“Rapidly,” she corrected. “Zūgusy issa nāpār lēkia, under his descendants. It’s a tricky one.”

“Not for you, it seems,” he said, not an ounce of bitterness in his tone. 

Daenys beamed at him and shrugged. “I guess growing up with Aemond being as competitive as I am had its perks. It motivated me to become better than him at everything.”

Jace nodded, chuckling at the memory of Daenys as a girl, all those times she would demand a rematch with tears in her eyes everytime she lost at something, tireless. 

“Come on, one more,” she urged. “Ñuha jorrāelagon gevie issa bē sȳndesse.” A small smile tugged at her lips, and Jace grinned to himself as he approached her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“My betrothed looks… lovely this morning,” he replied, earning himself a pleased hum from Daenys, thus letting him know that he was, in fact, correct.

“Perfect,” Daenys said, placing the palms of her hands on his chest.

Neither of them could remember when their friendship had turned into something more, as the idea of marriage slowly shifted from a burden to something they both awaited with indescribable excitement. 

Perhaps it had been a consequence of the hours they spent flying together on Vermax and Silverwing, or their walks along the coast of Dragonstone, sharing memories and secrets. Perhaps it had been Jace’s efforts to make her feel included and welcomed from the moment she set foot on Dragonstone all those years ago, despite her initial reluctance to get close to him and his family. Or maybe it had been the tenderness she exuded every time she spoke to Joffrey, or how easily she made Luke laugh, or the way Jace’s heartbeat quickened every time she met his gaze.

Jace brushed his nose against hers. “We can go for a walk later,” he offered.

“Or a ride,” she said, and the two of them smiled at her eagerness to be on dragonback again after having spent so long flying over the bay.

“A ride, then,” he agreed.

Daenys’ hands slid up his chest and shoulders until they reached his face, where she gently stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. Too absorbed in gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes, neither of them noticed that someone else had entered the room.

“Is this how you expect to become fluent at High Valyrian?” Princess Rhaenyra asked as she made her way down the stairs. Her tone was of amusement and there was no intention of admonishment in her face, but her presence made the young couple separate immediately.

“Mother,” Jace greeted her bowing his head, partly to salute her, and partly to hide the bright red that now tinted his cheeks.

“My princess,” said Daenys, curtsying accordingly, equally embarrassed.

Rhaenyra walked up to them, her hands softly caressing her pregnant belly, which was now starting to round as she was almost halfway through her pregnancy.

“Maester Gerardys said I would find you here. I should've known you would be much more invested in your lessons with such a beautiful teacher.”

Jace smiled timidly, still unable to look at his mother. Amused, she continued.

“Perhaps you’d like to show me how the instruction is going?” she requested as she took a seat at the table, tired from the pregnancy. 

Daenys quickly returned to the text, ignoring the pink in her cheeks. It took her a moment to find the right page.

“Dāria Āeksio daor lēkia Aegonforto,” she read.

Jace sighed. “Daria…”

“Dāria,” Rhaenyra corrected, watching her son intently.

“Dāria Āeksio daor… The Red Keep changed the Aegonfort.”

“Replaced,” the two women said at the same time, the occurrence making them chuckle. 

Not wanting to make her son suffer any longer, Rhaenyra gestured for Daenys to close the book; there was no need for the lesson to continue. 

“It pleases me that you two have found it in you to enjoy each other’s company so much,” she began, “but you have to be careful. We do not need rumors starting to spread around about the princess’ virtue.”

At the mere mention of his betrothed’s reputation being affected in any way by his lack of care, Jace’s expression changed into a serious one.

“Of course, Mother. I would never allow such a thing.”

“It won’t happen again, Princess. I promise,” added Daenys, fully aware of how terrible it would be if such slander was thrown her way.

Rhaenyra nodded, pleased with their attitude, while she caressed her belly. As she stood, both Jace and Daenys straightened their backs again, showcasing the respect they felt for the princess. Rhaenyra approached them, and placed her motherly hands on each of their cheeks.

“A raven arrived today from Driftmark,” she began, and both Jace and Daenys’ brows furrowed with worry almost simultaneously. “Baela wrote to Daemon to let us know that Vaemond Velaryon is attempting to challenge Luke’s claim to the Driftwood Throne.”

“But Lord Corlys already named Luke his heir, and Father agreed,” Daenys protested.

“Lord Corlys might not survive his injuries. We cannot count on him,” Rhaenyra said simply.

“What about Princess Rhaenys?” wondered Jace.

Rhaenyra sighed. “Let us hope she chooses to support us.”

“So we’re going to King’s Landing?” the young princess further asked.

“On the morrow,” Rhaenyra confirmed, and Daenys’ expression changed despite how much she was trying to hide her emotions. “Luke is upset, as you can imagine,” she added, speaking to Jace. “He needs his brother.”

Jace nodded, understanding, and gave Daenys a look of apology: their ride would need to wait. 

After her son had left the room, Rhaenyra sat down again.

"I know that face," she said to Daenys. 

Ever since welcoming her into her family, Rhaenyra had earned herself the role of mentor and confidante in Daenys’ life. She had taken the time to explain the politics of the realm to her, the importance of legacy, and the strength that Daenys would need to cultivate if she were to become queen consort one day. With time, the pair had found it in them to slowly build a bridge over the chasm that had once separated them.  

Daenys sat across from her, and that perspective made them look like two different versions of the same person.

“How bad is it?” she asked. 

Rhaenyra took a moment to answer as she stroked her belly.

“By putting into question Luke’s legitimacy, he’s also questioning Jace’s and my own claim to the Throne.”

Daenys lowered her gaze, worried. “Why now?” she asked.

“What did your mother say the last time she wrote to you? That Father was getting weaker and weaker by the day, could barely move or speak without overexerting himself,” she said, raising her brows slightly.

“So you think this is their doing? The queen and the Hand’s?” Daenys asked. My mother and my grandsire.

“Not entirely, but they are definitely supporting Vaemond’s claims.”

Daenys buried her face in her hands. She was tired. Exhausted. The fact that after so many years the matter was still being questioned despite King Viserys’ blessing for Luke to inherit the Driftwood Throne was senseless.

“There is something I wanted to talk to you about. Or ask of you, to be precise,” said Rhaenyra after a moment of silence. 

When Daenys nodded, encouraging her to speak, Rhaenyra reached over the table and grabbed her hand.

“I need you to promise me that you will stay strong while we’re at King’s Landing. That you won’t falter when they spill their honey in your ear,” she said. Daenys’ brow furrowed, feeling confused and slightly insulted.

“Have I not proven my loyalty to you time and time again?” she asked.

“Of course,” Rhaenyra replied immediately. “Yes, always. But right now, the Red Keep is a venomous place. I wouldn’t want you to be put in a situation where you have to choose sides.”

“But I have chosen a side,” Daenys said, defensive. “Every single day, by not escaping, I am choosing a side. It is your cause that I believe in, your son the one I want to see sitting on the Driftwood Throne when the time comes.”

Rhaenyra let out a breath. When she spoke again, her eyes were honest.

“You are very important to me, Daenys. Not only as a sister but as an ally. Your support means a lot to this family and I fear that, by exposing you to them, I might be pushing you away from us.”

As she always did when she was stressed or worried, a habit she had unknowingly picked up from her mother, Daenys began nervously picking at her fingers. Rhaenyra noticed and held her hand again, making her stop.

“You took me in six years ago,” she began, “a girl you barely knew, who had been mean to your children, who had... taken part in the narrative that was told about them at court. I didn't make it easy for you at first, and yet you treated me as if you were my— as if I was your daughter. You offered me a seat at your table, a chair next to you by the hearth, a place in your council. Do you really think me so ungrateful?”

Rhaenyra lowered her gaze, ashamed for having even considered the possibility of betrayal, but also pleased with Daenys' contained outrage: it meant she truly cared.

“No. No, of course not.”

The tension between them eased as they shared a moment of silent solidarity, but the weight of the impending trip to King’s Landing still loomed over them.

Finally, Rhaenyra spoke again, her voice steady. “You should get some rest. There’s much to be done before we leave.”

_____________________

That night, as she sat at her desk with only the hearth and a single candle illuminating her chamber, Daenys decided to write to Helaena.

My dearest Helaena,

It has saddened me deeply to learn that Vaemond Velaryon means to call into question Lucerys’ legitimacy. I might err on the side of innocence, but I had hoped this matter was already settled. Perhaps this instance will finally put an end to such nonsense. 

Despite this, I look forward to seeing you again, and your children. They must be so grown now… I will make sure to bring presents for them so they can remember their aunt. 

We will arrive at King’s Landing within the week, as we must sail since  Rhaenyra and Daemon want Father to meet little Aegon and little Viserys.

I do hope we can have a peaceful time together.

Your sister, who loves you,

Daenys

As she rolled the piece of parchment, the wax for the three-headed dragon seal already melted and ready to use, Ser Lorent knocked on her door.

“Forgive me, Princess. Prince Jacaerys requests a word,” he announced. 

“Of course. Send him in.” It wasn’t uncommon for Jace to visit Daenys in her quarters, and Rhaenyra allowed it, so long as the door remained open.

Unlike Daenys, who was already clad in her sleeping clothes, a beautiful crimson robe covering her nightgown, Jace was still wearing his normal clothes, save for the cape. Once he was inside, she stood.

“How’s Luke?” she asked.

Jace made a face, shrugging. “Terrified, honestly. You know how he feels about this matter,” he explained.

Daenys hummed, cutting the distance between them. As soon as she was in front of him, Jace wrapped her in his arms.

After a few seconds of comfortable silence, drowning in each other’s familiar scents, with Jace’s face buried in her neck and her hands in his curls, Daenys spoke. “I don’t want to go,” she confessed, and she sounded just like she had all those years before, except this time it was the opposite situation. She had been holding her feelings in all day but now, in Jace’s arms, she felt safe enough to let them out.

“I know,” he murmured back. “I’m not too excited about it either.”

When Daenys spoke again, she was crying.

“Am I horrible?”

As soon as he heard her broken voice Jace broke the embrace, only to gently grab her face as his brow furrowed in worry.

“No! Of course not, why do you think that?”

He caught a tear with his thumb as it slid down her cheek.

“I don’t know, I— I haven’t seen them in years, and when the opportunity arises I would rather just not go. And I’m worried about Luke, and I don’t want your mother to get upset, and—.”

“Shh…” Jace soothed her gently, noticing the way her anxiety was starting to escalate. He put his forehead against hers, and Daenys closed her eyes. Outside, Ser Lorent peeked discreetly, just to check in on them. “Listen to me. Whatever Vaemond Velaryon has to say, it will be to no avail. My mother will defend Luke and put an end to all of this once and for all. And… I know it is difficult for you to see everybody again, but you will not be alone this time, hm? I will be with you. We will all be with you.”

Daenys had spent her entire life trying to feel like she belonged. Somewhere. Anywhere. Neither from here, nor from there. Always adjusting, fitting in, packing up, looking for a spot.

For many years, the only moment she was able to achieve that feeling was when riding Silverwing, hence her passion for spending her days on dragonback. Whenever she rode her dragon, she felt like a part of her that was never good enough for anyone was restored: bad daughter, bad sister, bad princess, good dragonrider. And so, she had decided that her place in the world was on her dragon’s back.

Jace had changed her mind.

He wasn’t just kind, or gentle, or good. He knew her; really knew her. And every new part of her she showed him, no matter how ugly, or embarrassing, or despicable, he embraced it. Loved it. 

Daenys belonged on her dragon’s back, but she also belonged in Jace’s arms.

I love you, she thought.

“You are too good,” she said instead, still sniffling but much calmer.

Jace smiled before softly kissing her forehead. “And you worry too much. It isn’t so bad, actually. I think I’ll find enjoyment in showing off my betrothed around the court.”

This made Daenys smile, a beautiful shade of pink bringing her cheeks to life. “I’m sure all the girls will bat their eyelashes at you as soon as they see you,” she said. “And the women.”

Jace chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Let them. They can bat their eyelashes all they want. Besides, they’ll be too busy being envious of how beautiful you are.”

Daenys shook her head, but her beaming smile and the way she couldn’t hold Jace’s gaze for a second showed how much she loved his flattery. 

She kissed his cheek, and Ser Lorent cleared his throat outside.

Jace sighed.

“I must go. I’ll come for you in the morning.”

“Sleep well,” she said as he softly kissed her hand.

Jace smiled at her once more before finally walking out the door, leaving her alone again in her chamber.

As she settled into bed, trying to find sleep quickly, she didn’t think of Vaemond Velaryon, her mother’s frown, or the politics of the realm. Instead, the only thing on her mind was kind brown eyes and the smell of leather and salt water.

_______________________________________________

If you liked this, let me know in any way! 💕

Also, thank you so much for all your kind comments! If I'm missing someone who wants to be added to the tag list, let me know!

Series Taglist: @void21, @burningwitchobject, @hellish-idiot, @inf4ntdeath, @klutzylaena, @swimmjacket , @helo1281917 , @cat-winter

[wyvernest]

! PREVIEW FOR COMING - SOON SERIES

UPDATE: POSTED PART1

cregan stark x targaryen f!reader

reader is Rhaenyra's eldest daughter and has a snow-white dragon.

slow burn, fluff & eventual smut, angst, follows the book events with slight deviations

>> Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark, Warden of the North.

let me know if you're interested and ill probably make a taglist <3