#joffery and reader

[poppinspops]

Dear older brother

Part 1, Part 2

Lucerys velaryon as your brother (platonic) the beginning of your relationship to the end of it..

Fem reader! Sorry, it's just easier to write for girls as a girl myself. I do hope you understand

Lucerys is your older brother as you were born a year after Luke was born a bastard, just like your two older brothers having dark hair and dark eyes

Though your mother Rhaenyra doesn't like it when you call yourself that neither do your two brothers but alas you still do when upset with yourself

Lucerys HATES being called Lukey by everyone that's not you, and you hate when others (besides joffery, jace, and your mother) call him lukey

You and jace mainly use it when you are teasing him, and sometimes Rhaenyra joins in

You two where sat next to each other at dinner, always whispering about something or someone you always did strive to make your older brother laugh

Luke is more open with you because you would come into his chambers and let your brother rant to you or vice versa

But it was more often that he came into your chambers and spoke his mind with no fear of judgment from you

Often, big events ended in him in your arms crying after something stressful happened in his chambers, though you didn't mind

You're usually the one consoling him if your mother hadn't beat you to it

You are the definition of a brothers girl

You are usually seen next to Luke or walking beside him. Wherever Luke went, you weren't far behind him

Though if Lucerys isn't off with jacerys doing something most likely practicing sword fighting, you'd be seen with your mother Rhaenyra

During important dinners or really any social event your mother planned or was invited to, you'd always would be seen standing next to luke or sitting with him whispering to Luke

Most likely, just you gossiping to him about something another Lord told you or how disgusting one of the lords where with you

-----------

You bumped Lucerys gently with your elbow whispering to your older brothers "so.. how are you 'enjoying' this beautiful banquet older brother?" Giggling as you saw his quick roll of the eyes before he replied back in a hushed tone

"Oh, I see how it is.. how was dancing with almost every lord tonight?" Luke said with a sly smirk on his pale face. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes giving him a good elbow in the side making him grumble as he rubbed his side. Your feet hurt like hell from all of the dancing you had to do tonight it was almost as bad as your name day.. "delightful." You replied in a strained voice. Luke had laughed at that, making you smile and laugh with your brother, elbowing him harder in the side this time, making him yelp out in pain.

You two quickly composed yourselves when your older brother turned his head over to the two of you making you straighten your back and look away from his gaze not seeing the small smile on his face from seeing his two younger siblings seemingly having fun teasing one another.

-----------

Luke is the calmer one between the both of you which was funny as your mother thought that her having a girl after her two boys would mean the two older boys where going to be the ones protecting their younger sister from others when it turned out to be the complete opposite, not that Rhaenyra minded at all she was proud that her first daughter could defend herself

Daemon had once told his wife you acted like her when she was younger, and Rhaenyra agreed as you did

Though she did wish that you would hold your tongue at times as you would go head first into arguments no matter if you or your brothers were in the right or wrong

One of your brothers could have been the one that got the facts wrong, but you would have still defended them with your life, that made you get into physical altercations with many lords and some lady's aswell

Though Rhaenyra was proud of that, it was like she had given birth to a second jacerys. Just this time, you could punch harder than jacerys could..

You were a natural when it came to learning High Valyrian much like Lucerys is

When you got the news of your mother being pregnant, it left you overjoyed. You so dearly wanted to know if you had a little sister coming. Look. It's hard being the only girl in a family of mainly men.

When your baby brother joffery was born, you adored him from the moment you first got a glimpse of him

You always volunteered to watch over little joffery, to teach him how to walk and how to say his first words, begging your mother

Though this did leave Lucerys a bit envious of his little brother joffery and how he seemed to take up all your time and attention now ever since he was born.

It caused Luke to start giving you a bit of the cold shoulder rolling his eyes when your little brother was brought up

When you had figured out why Luke was giving you the cold shoulder for a few weeks, you laughed and teased him for it as it was silly and lucerys knew that

You and Jace started teasing Luke about it for months on end

You had started spending all your free time teaching your younger brother how to speak and what names each color had much to Luke's dismay, you where often seen in Jofferys' room reading to him, as you had always wanted a younger sibling and you had finally gotten one a well mannered one at that.

You were a tad bit upset that he wasn't a girl, though you had quickly gotten over that once you held him in your arms as he tried to say your name

When you were younger, you used to follow Luke around, just like what little joffery does with you now

It was funny to Rhaenyra that joffery acts so much like his older sister

though she was glade that unlike his older sister, joffery didn't go and dig up holes in the ground, looking for worms much to her mothers dismay when finding her daughter outside, digging up bugs from the ground..

You were never too fond of Daemon, your stepfather. Though he seemed to be fond of you quite a lot being as he has daughters of his own (girl dad daemon), so he understood you on a level your brothers just didn't.

Daemon was the first to defend you, or he'd just appear by your side randomly at times. You thought you had been the one intimidating people, but it was really daemon standing behind you that intimidated those people and scaring them off

once you had punched him out of shock, as he had scared you as you didn't know he was standing behind you once though he just smiled as your punch didn't do much.... that day hurt your pride and ego very much, though you were just happy you didn't get punched back.

You and your mother Rhaenyra got along swell she gets you the most since your the only two girls in a house with four boys

You being Rhaenyras' first daughter and all means you have a special place in her heart as you weren't going to get a fancy title like you had always hopped for as you were sadly born a woman. And your brothers men.

You and lucerys safe place was always near the water

Least to say, after his death, it was no longer your safe space it was a place of fear, death, and great mourning when you sat near the water.

You had gotten news of your elder brother lucerys death when you were getting ready for bed. The news brought you to your knees in tears, your mothers soft voice trying to calm you down as she herself was a reck, but she tried to hold it together for you

It took hours for you to stop crying. Your eyes had a red rim around them with tear stained cheeks and a wobbly lip

You wouldn't come out of your room and barely talked much for almost half a month

The funeral couldn't even be called one as all you had of your brother was clothes and personal belongings to burn. They couldn't find lucerys body now lost at sea, and that made the anger in that you boil up, making you snappy at people

You had sympathy for aemond before he killed your brother, you did feel a bit bad for his eye being stabbed out by your older brother feeling guilty everytime you saw him with that eyepatch he was a child like yourself afterall..

You never did hate aemond you two would well 'talk' well it was more of exchanging a few words when you had too though, Jace always seemed to come in and swoop you away you where always greatful for that as your exchanges of words where rather awkward. It was more staring than talking if you were honest.

Aemond took every chance he could to remind you of how your brother took his eye

You didn't know what kind of reaction the older boy wanted to gauge from you, but he never seemed quite happy with the reactions you would give him

He only seemed pleased when you would apologize for your older brother saying how he shouldn't have done that and things along those lines for some odd reason unbeknownst to you, a weird almost delighted smile would appear on the aemonds face it was odd.

Though you always found aemond to be a bit weird, so you brushed it off as aemond being aemond

After your brothers death and having to be at his make shift funeral, your heart held no sympathy for the older boy.

when you thought of the one-eyed boy, all you could think about was taking his other eye from him and forcing him to live the rest of his pathetic life blind.

You could no longer see the ocean as safe and calm. You saw the true nature of what the ocean could truly be. Its waves were angry as it took the lives of people you held so very dearly into its depths to never be seen again, or maybe that's just how you saw it in your many hours of grieving

After half a month, you were slowly healing your relationship with the sea, knowing that at least your brother died both as a targaryen and as a velaryon and he wasn't alone in death he had his beloved dragon both dead but dead together.

[spicy30]

Modernness of 1400s

Series Masterlist

Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader

Premise: A modern reader in HOTD

Tags: Slowburn, age gap (Small), AFAB reader, No use of Y/N

General Warnings: Canon-typical violence, blood, assault, bullying, death (Death of Cannon characters)

Rating: 18+ (Generally)

Status: On-going

Current word count: 75.6K

001 6. 006 11. 011

002 7. 007 12. 012

003 8. 008 13. 013

004 9. 009 14. 014

005 10. 010 15.015

To be added on Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

[j-k-writes]

The Bronze Targaryen - 5

Summary - Two and a half moons after (Y/N)'s arrival in Kingslanding he must grapple with his new title as a dragonlord, wedding festivites, his grandsire's sudden illness, and his relationship with his father. The prince tries to balance all of this as the royal wedding looms over him.

Warnings - minor injuries, general HOTD warnings, drinking, canon character death, consummation scene (its minor and a fade to black)

I have decided to mold the lore to my own desires because there is almost next to nothing on House Royce during this time period. Also was going to break this into two parts because its so long but wanted all the wedding festvites to take place during one chapter.

(Y/N) winced as the maester prodded at his nose, the maester made humming noises as he examined the prince’s injuries. He applied a few plaster’s to (Y/N)’s nose, before wrapping it in soaked wool. 

“His nose shall heal fine, my prince.” 

Daemon nodded, “Thank you, you may go.” 

The maester bowed to the two princes, gathering his supplies and leaving (Y/N) alone with his father. Daemon watched as the man left the room, and waited until the doors were shut before turning on his son. He crossed his arms leaning back against a chair, and (Y/N) braced himself for a lecture. 

“How are you feeling?” 

(Y/N) blinked, “What?” 

Daemon pushed himself off the chair, making his way over toward (Y/N). He slowly reache

d his hand out, gently tracing the scratches and bruises on (Y/N)’s face, and (Y/N) was too shocked at his father’s actions to react. “Are you in pain?” 

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) said, looking up at his father. “I’ve had worse.” 

Daemon frowned, and (Y/N) wondered how much his mother had told him of his childhood mishaps. “What were you doing so far off Rosby Road?” 

(Y/N) flushed, “I- uh, snuck out.” 

“You snuck out?” His father’s face lit up, and he took a step back laughing and shaking his head. “How did your uncle react?” 

“Well he doubled my guard for one.” (Y/N) said, remembering his Uncle’s fury when (Y/N) showed up the next morning, face covered in blood and dirt. He had some choice words for the young heir, and (Y/N) was confident Daemon had heard his brother’s opinion on the matter as soon as he stepped foot into the keep. “But he was more interested in the dragon than my misbehavior.” 

“Ah,” Daemon smirked. “Yes, it must have been quite a shock.” 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes at his father, “I know you did something.” 

“What did I do, (Y/N)?” Daemon asked, raising an eyebrow at his son. “I did not drag Vermithor to you, or you to him for that matter. Vermithor made his choice.” 

“And it’s just a coincidence that as soon as you leave for Dragonstone, Vermithor leaves and seeks me out randomly.” 

“Perhaps it was fate.” Daemon shrugged. 

“You don’t expect me to believe that.” 

Daemon approached (Y/N), placed his hands on his shoulders. “It does not matter what you believe, all that matters are the facts. And the facts are that you have claimed Vermithor, you should be proud.” 

“I did not wish to claim a dragon, I never have.” (Y/N) said, and his father’s face hardened. 

“You are my son.” Daemon said, and (Y/N) hissed as his grip on his shoulder tightened. “You are a dragon, you cannot escape that.” 

His father’s face softened at (Y/N)’s expression. He released the boy, and seemed to hesitate before smoothing his hair back out of his face, “You should rest, you have had quite the number of shocks these past few days.” 

(Y/N) watched as father turned on his heel, and exited the chambers gently shutting the doors behind him.

“Lykirī.” (Y/N) smiled, as Vermithor pushed his snout into his chest. He pet the dragon with a gloved hand, laughing as the dragon continued to push him. “You must relax if you wish to fly.” 

(Y/N) had spent almost a week avoiding Vermithor after the dragon chased him down in the woods. Hoping that if he ignored him long enough the dragon would take the hint and leave, but eventually the Dragonkeepers sought him out, telling him that Vermithor had been untamable since he’d arrived in the Dragonpit. So (Y/N) resigned himself to the life of a dragonrider. He’d spent every day since then with the dragon, slowly but surely adjusting to his presence, and Vermithor had calmed drastically with (Y/N)’s visits. 

(Y/N) had taken to flying easily, much to his father’s delight and, as much as he hid it, his own. Although he had felt sick at the idea of claiming a dragon at first, he had come to find pride in the quick developments in his relationship with Vermithor. 

Rhaenyra too found delight in her betrothed’s new life. 

Anytime (Y/N) was free Rhaenyra was dragging him to the dragonpit, insisting Vermithor and Syrax go flying together. Viserys, at first happy to have another dragon in the family, soon grew inpatient with the two teens. Irritated at their constant absence from court, but (Y/N) paid him little mind. (Y/N) had no real place in his court, and he had not yet raised Rhaenyra, his heir, from the role of cupbearer. 

(Y/N) saddled Vermithor, leaning down to whisper to the dragon, “Sōvēs” 

The wind was cool against his face, blowing the strands of hair that had escaped his bun around in his face. (Y/N) had been wishing for clean and open air since he’d arrived in Kingslanding, this just isn’t how he expected to find it. Vermithor rumbled under him, and he laughed, leaning down so that he could rub the dragon’s neck. 

“I know,” (Y/N) spoke, almost shouting to be heard against the wind. “I am sorry I was late.” 

He’d been stuck in court all day, listening to his father and uncle bicker over details of the upcoming royal wedding. His uncle, ever the peacekeeper, had wanted Rhaenyra and (Y/N) to be married in the faith of the seven, as he was to Aemma and later Alicent, his father had other ideas however. 

“I do not worship the New Gods, uncle.” (Y/N) pointed out. 

“It is the tradition of the royal family.” The Grand Maester spoke up, as the other lords of the chamber had gone silent as soon as the tensions started to rise, seemingly fearful of angering any member of the royal family. Not that (Y/N) could blame them, he’d heard stories of his father’s infamous fits of anger. 

“(Y/N) follows the Old Gods like his mother,” His father looked pained to speak the words, but (Y/N) gave him an appreciative nod all the same. “And I have not known Rhaenyra to spend her days in the sept. We are Targaryens, they should marry in the tradition of Old Valyria.” 

“The faith-” 

“Fuck the faith.” Daemon spat. “I will not ask my son to forsake his gods so that some fat septon is comfortable, and we cannot bring a weirwood here so this is the only equitable compromise I see.” 

His uncle and the members of his council had grumbled at the idea, but eventually they conceded knowing this was an argument they could not win without insulting someone. His uncle dismissed them all, brows pinched in frustration. (Y/N) had caught his father’s arm on the way out, stopping him from walking away. 

“Thank you.” He did not meet his father’s eyes. “I know faith is not important to you, but it is to me so- just- thank you.” 

His father gently cupped his cheek, bringing (Y/N)’s eyes up to meet his. His father smiled at him, “You do not have to thank me. It is no secret that I hold no love for your mother’s house, but you do, and you are my blood. I will always defend you.” 

His father’s words still hung over his head by the time (Y/N) and Vermithor had returned to the Dragonpit. 

Rhaenyra was waiting for him as he dismounted, accompanied by a slew of Kingsguard and a royal carriage. The Kingsguard watched Vermithor warily as he grumbled, huffing as though he could sense (Y/N)’s apprehension at the sight laid out before him. 

 “Lykirī.” (Y/N) whispered, urging the bronze beast to return to the Dragonpit. Vermithor huffed one last time at the men, causing (Y/N) to chuckle, before returning. (Y/N) walked over to Rhaenyra, untying his hair and letting it tumble down to his shoulders. “That is quite the party, Nyra.” 

She sighed, “Our presence is required at the keep. We must be readied to greet the lords arriving at the court.” 

A Kingsguard opened the door of the carriage, and (Y/N) offered his hand for Rhaenyra to take. She took his hand, using it as leverage to step into the carriage and (Y/N) followed suit, taking the seat across from her. 

“What troubles you?” 

Rhaenyra blinked at (Y/N), “I am not troubled.” 

“Rhaenyra,” (Y/N) said, smiling slightly, “I can tell something is troubling you. Is it tonight?” 

“No,” She shook her head, leaning forward and placing her hand on (Y/N)’s knee. “No, it’s not tonight, it is this morning. My father is still blind to the schemes of some of those present in his court, they seek to undermine our family in favor of the Hightower children.” 

“Your father will not claim Aegon over you. You are his heir, you will be Queen and no scheming lord can change that.” 

Rhaenyra smiled, squeezing his knee slightly before releasing him and sitting back. (Y/N) turned to look out of the carriage, leaning back into the cushions and closing his eyes. He heard Rhaenyra chuckle softly, before the exhaustion of the day overtook him and he slipped away to sleep.

“You seem nervous.” (Y/N) turned, coming face to face with his cousin. He gave his best attempt at a smile, he fiddled with the collar of his shirt, and Gerold stepped forward. He adjusted the leather jerkin, allowing (Y/N) to breathe easier. “It is odd to see you in such formal attire.” 

(Y/N) laughed, “At least they don’t have dragons on them.” 

“No? I have heard a rumor that you’ve become quite the dragonlord in your absence.” 

(Y/N) reddened, ducking his head slightly, “It was an accident.” 

His cousin laughed, patting him on the shoulder, “There is no need to be nervous, cousin.” 

His cousin smiled at him one last time before joining his other cousin in the precession line. (Y/N) frowned at the sight of Gunthor, he’d been informed when his family and their court had arrived that his grandsire had fallen ill not long after (Y/N) departed, and in his heirs absence his cousin Gunthor, second in line, had taken his place as regent. His grandsire had been too ill to make the journey to Kingslanding, sending (Y/N) his well wishes and Gunthor in his place. 

A sudden hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. He turned his head to catch his father smiling, he squeezed his shoulder. “The tailors did well, you look like a prince.” 

“I am a prince.” (Y/N) said, and his father’s smile widened. 

“Yes, you are. Remember that, as there are those that would hope you forget.” His father nodded in the direction of Gunthor, and (Y/N)’s expression soured. 

“I do not trust him, I cannot say why but-” (Y/N) frowned, staring at his cousin’s interactions with the Valemen around him. “He did not write to me to tell me of my grandsire’s illness. I am the heir, I should be regent, not him, and yet in my absence he swooped in.” 

His father nodded, “Good. You must recognize the snakes before they strike.” 

His father stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the Valemen. “I am aware that we do not have the best relationship-” 

(Y/N) snorted, and Daemon laughed rolling his eyes. “Yes I know, but you are my son, my blood. And I would like to be not just your sire, but your father as well. I was not there in your youth, let me be there now.” 

(Y/N) frowned, hesitating. He swallowed before finally speaking, “May we speak of this after the feast?” 

“Of course,” His father lightly touched his cheek, “Come we should join the others.” 

He and his father took their places at the front of the party, Gunthor to (Y/N)’s left and Daemon to his right. (Y/N) took a deep breath as the doors opened, keeping his gaze on the two banners bearing the sigils of House Targaryen and House Royce hung in the back of the Great Hall as his family entered. 

“Ser Gunthor of House Royce. Acting Lord of Runestone, Keeper of the Gates of the Moon. And Prince Daemon Targaryen. And his son and heir to Runestone Prince (Y/N) Targaryen the future King Consort.” 

The guests of the hall stood, clapping as they walked down to the high table. The amount of eyes on him made (Y/N) uneasy, but he kept his head high, posture exuding the confidence expected of one of his station. (Y/N) made eye contact with Rhaenyra at the end of the hall who offered him a comforting smile, he nodded to her. 

They paused at the beginning of the steps, bowing to the King, before Rhaenyra stepped around the table making her way toward the crowd. (Y/N) stepped forward, meeting her halfway, he took her hand as his father had instructed him when going over the etiquette required of him at the feast. 

“You must act every bit the king you will one day be, no matter how unused to these events you may be.” His father had told him. (Y/N) scoffed at the advice, he was raised to be the Lord of Runestone, he knew how to act at a feast. 

As (Y/N) pressed a chaste kiss to Rhaenyra’s hand, and claps echoed around the hall, he cursed himself for not taking his father’s advice seriously. He had never known a feast quite like this, hosting the most important lords of the whole of Westeros. Lords he’d never met before like the Lannisters, Hightowers, and Velaryons. He took his place by Rhaenyra’s side at the table, his father and cousin taking the seats by his left. 

He let out a breath as he sat down, scanning the crowd as his uncle started to speak. Rhaenyra grabbed his hand under the table, squeezing it in reassurance, it was only then that he allowed himself to relax, if only slightly. 

"Be welcome,” His uncle smiled out at the crowd, “As we join together in celebration. Tonight is only its beginning. We honor one of Westeros' oldest houses, and a fierce ally to the crown, House Royce. Just as House Targaryen reaches back to the blood of Old Valyria, House Royce reaches back to the blood of the first men. With House Targaryen and H-"

Viserys paused, and everyone averted their gaze to where his lingered. (Y/N) tensed once more as Queen Alicent Hightower made her entrance into the hall. The color of her dress a clear statement to anyone who knew any of the histories. Reluctantly (Y/N) made his way to his feet with the rest of the guests, he shot an amused glance to his side where his father still sat, eyes narrowed at the young queen. 

Alicent addressed Rhaenyra, “Congratulations, step-daughter. What a blessing this is for you.” 

Rhaenyra gave no indication of thanks, and Alicent kissed Viserys on the cheek before taking her seat beside him. 

He’d not yet had any real interactions with the young queen, only knowing things told to him by Rhaenyra and Daemon. He had taken them with a grain of salt, wanting to make his own judgment of the girl, but with the blatant display she’d just shown to the lord’s of Westeros, (Y/N) decided that maybe Rhaenyra and Daemon had been right in their worries. Perhaps the Hightowers did have their own intentions with the crown. 

“Please be seated.” 

(Y/N) traced the rim of his empty goblet as his uncle stood silently, only picking his eyes up from the table when he started to speak. 

"With House Targaryen and House Royce united, once again, I hope to herald in a second Age of Dawn and Dragons in Westeros.” Viserys spoke, and the hall erupted into applause.

“And after tonight’s small affair,” Laughter sounded through the halls, and (Y/N) had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Seven days of tournament and feasting! And at the end of it all, a royal wedding. Between my daughter, my heir, your future queen. And Prince (Y/N) Targaryen, heir to Runestone.” 

As Viserys sat, and everyone else followed suit, Rhaenyra and (Y/N) rose from theirs. They approached the middle of the aisle, and began their dance. (Y/N) had never been much of a dancer, and suffered through the lessons given to both he and Rhaenyra. 

“I feel like a fool.” (Y/N) whispered as Rhaenyra and he side stepped each other. 

“You are doing wonderfully.” Rhaenyra whispered back, taking her place back to back with him. “Ignore everyone, pretend it is just you and me.” 

When they finished, bowing to one another the halls once again erupted in applause. (Y/N) took Rhaenyra’s hands in his, kissing them softly as she gave him a knowing smile. As the rest of the courtiers took their places on the dance floor, (Y/N) tried to escape back to the high table, longing for a cup of wine. He was stopped before he could reach the table much to his dismay. 

“My Prince.” The lady, who (Y/N) did not recognize, blushed, bowing to him. “May I have this dance?” 

(Y/N) gaped at her, before remembering who and where he was. “Yes, yes of course Lady-” 

“Reyne.” 

“Lady Reyne. (Y/N) smiled, mourning his cup of wine. He gestured toward the lords and lady’s dancing, “Lead the way.” 

He had to dance with five young ladies before he finally found his escape. He flopped, very unprince-like into his seat, immediately grabbing the cup of wine laid out in front of him. His father laughed, waving over a servant to refill the cup once (Y/N) had finished. 

“Not a fan of dancing?” Daemon smirked, “Or is it the ladies asking you to dance you are not fond of?” 

“Both.” (Y/N) spoke over the rim of his cup, “They only wish to dance with me because I am to marry Rhaenyra, if I were just the heir to Runestone they’d pay me little mind.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Daemon said, “You are a comely young man.” 

(Y/N) smirked, “Ladies don’t wish to dance with comely young men.” 

“Neither do lords.” His father raised his eyebrows, humor sparkling in his eyes. 

(Y/N) shrugged, smiling at his father’s tone, “You have been talking to Rhaenyra.” 

Daemon leaned close, patting his son on the leg, “I am just glad you two have made this match work for the both of you.” 

“We are not married yet, father.” (Y/N) reminded, “Things may yet just fall apart.” 

Before his father could speak, another lady made her way to the table. She bowed to both (Y/N) and Daemon. “Prince (Y/N), may I have this dance?” 

Daemon snickered, taking (Y/N)’s cup out of his hand. “Well go on, dance.” 

His father had disappeared from the table when (Y/N) had finished, and his cousins were wrapped up in conversation with a lord (Y/N) did not recognize. He made his way to the sidelines, stealing a full cup of wine, and pressing his back against the wall to avoid being spotted. 

He spied his father in the middle of the dancing, twirling Laena Velayron around, and (Y/N) frowned. His father’s wife, (Y/N)’s own mother, had died only three moons ago, and as far as (Y/N) knew Laena Velayron was engaged to some Brasvosi. 

“You would never know this feast was in your honor the way you frown.” 

(Y/N) turned to face the owner of the voice, smiling as Ser Harwin took a place next to him. “Ser Harwin.” 

“Are you not enjoying the feast, my prince?” Harwin smiled, leaning closer to the prince. 

“I am enjoying the wine, some of the company less so.” (Y/N) said, and Harwin laughed. 

“I understand the sentiment.” 

(Y/N) brought the cup up to his lips, smiling around its rim. Harwin grabbed an empty cup, flagging down a servant who filled both of their cups. (Y/N) watched as his father continued to dance with Laena, and Rhaenyra moved through the crowd, followed closely by Ser Laenor. 

Harwin raised his cup up, and (Y/N) followed suit, “To your marriage.” 

“My marriage.” (Y/N) and Harwin laughed as their cups met. 

(Y/N) spent the rest of the feast by Harwin’s side. Harwin had stopped drinking by his fourth cup, watching in amusement as the prince got drunker and drunker with each cup of wine. As the feast died down, and the lords and ladies took their leave, Harwin had found (Y/N) a seat, and was watching him ramble fondly. 

“I do not care for this court, Harwin.” (Y/N) sighed, leaning his head back. “It was simpler on Runestone, but here, here there are too many lords I do not know. I do not trust them.” 

Harwin laughed, patting the prince’s leg, “Perhaps a hall filled with those lords is not the place to have this conversation, my prince.” 

“(Y/N).” (Y/N) said, straightening. He looked Harwin in the eye, placing his hand on top of the knights. “Please call me (Y/N).” 

Harwin’s eyes softened, “Of course, (Y/N).” 

(Y/N) smiled at the knight, keeping his hand where it was before two twin coughs behind him startled him. (Y/N) jumped, spilling his cup of wine onto himself. Harwin laughed as (Y/N) turned to look at the people behind him. Daemon and Rhaenyra stood above him, both with twin amused smiles on their faces. They had never looked more related, (Y/N) mused. 

“Having fun?” Rhaenyra asked. 

“I was informed that this feast was for me, and that I should try to have some fun.” 

Daemon laughed at his son's words, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him up out of the seat. “I think it’s time you take your leave.” 

Harwin stood, grabbing (Y/N) to help Daemon keep the prince upright. Rhaenyra sighed, a smile still gracing her face. 

“I am glad you enjoyed yourself, (Y/N).” Rhaenyra said. “But perhaps next time you can entertain yourself with less wine.” 

(Y/N) stepped forward, stumbling slightly and both Harwin and Daemon’s eyes widened as he moved. Freeing himself from the men’s grasps, (Y/N) approached Rhaenyra pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

“I am sorry that I left you on your lonesome.” (Y/N) said, letting his hand rest on her arm. Rhaenyra smiled, at his words or his drunkenness (Y/N) could not tell. 

She pressed her palm to his cheek, “You are fine. I enjoyed myself plenty.” 

(Y/N) nodded. “Good, because this is for both of us. So we should both enjoy ourselves.” 

“(Y/N),” Rhaenyra laughed, shaking her head. “Let us get you to your chambers.” 

Daemon and Harwin grabbed one of his arms, ignoring (Y/N)’s protests that he could walk by himself. Rhaenyra followed the three men, laughing at (Y/N)’s attempts to break free from the two men, and his drunken rambles to all three of the people accompanying him. When they finally reached the room, with some incident much to Harwin and Daemon’s dismay and Rhaenyra’s delight, Daemon turned to Harwin. 

“I have him from here, Ser Harwin will you please make sure the princess makes it back to her room.” 

Harwin nodded, and Rhaenyra pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s cheek. “I will see you tomorrow at the tourney.” 

“Goodnight, (Y/N), Prince Daemon.” 

(Y/N) and Daemon bid the both of them goodnight, before the guards at (Y/N)’s door open the doors to his chamber and Daemon practically dragged his son into the room. Daemon instructe (Y/N) to lift his arms, and when he did he undid the jerkin and brought the tunic over his head, tossing it to the side. 

“Undo your boots.” 

(Y/N) complied, and when he was done Daemon led him toward the bed. When (Y/N) was seated on the bed, Daemon turned to leave, but (Y/N) grabbed his arm and stopped him in his tracks. “We have not had our conversation.” 

Daemon smiled, “Rest, we will have it tomorrow I promise.” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Alright.” 

Daemon pressed him down into the bed slowly, pushing the blankets back so that (Y/N) could get underneath them. He brushed (Y/N)’s sweaty hair out of his face, smoothing it down not unlike his mother used to do when he was ill. (Y/N) leaned into the touch, and Daemon smiled. 

“Sleep.” 

(Y/N) closed his eyes, slipping quickly into rest. But not before he felt the ghost of lips pressed against his forehead.

(Y/N) hated himself the next morning. 

He closed his eyes as he bathed, letting the warm water alleviate some of his migraine. He dressed slowly, groaning as a loud knock sounded throughout the room. 

“Come in.” 

Daemon strolled into the room, taking a look at his son’s appearance before chuckling. “How are you feeling?” (Y/N) just glared at him, causing Daemon to laugh again. He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.” 

Daemon placed a small vile in front of him, and (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s watered down dreamwine,” Daemon said, “For your head.” 

“Oh,” (Y/N) took the vial, opened it and sniffed it a bit before downing it. “Thank you.” 

Daemon nodded, turning to leave. 

“Are you not here to continue our conversation?” (Y/N) called out, and Daemon turned back to face him. 

“I just wanted to see if you were well.” 

“I am.” (Y/N) smiled, “I just have a headache, I will live.” 

Daemon nodded, taking a seat across from (Y/N). He looked nervous at the thought of continuing their conversation from before the feast, it endeared (Y/N) to see his father’s usual tough exterior come crumbling down at the idea of a conversation. 

Giving his father some respite, (Y/N) changed the topic of conversation, “I saw you dancing with Laena Velayron last night. Is she not already betrothed?” 

“A man cannot dance with a lady?” Daemon asked, although his expression gave him away. 

“Not when that man is you, father.” (Y/N) said. “Do you wish to get remarried? You have no real need for any more heirs.” 

Daemon shrugged, “Perhaps I wish for company.” 

“You are lonely?” (Y/N) almost laughed at the thought. He could not imagine the so-called Lord of Flea Bottom wanting for the comforts of a lady. 

“Well my only son prefers to spend his time at Runestone pretending I don’t exist.” 

(Y/N)’s mood soured, and he frowned. He turned away from his father, crossing his arms like he wasn’t a man of seven and ten and instead a boy of nine. “You did not give me a choice. I was just saving myself from the pain I would feel when you inevitably wouldn’t arrive.” 

“I know.” Daemon ran his hand down his face. “I did not mean that I apologize.” 

“You know you have missed my last ten name days.” (Y/N) whispered. 

“I know.” Daemon said. “I sent you presents but I know that does not make up for my absence.” 

“I never received any gifts.” 

Daemon looked up in confusion, his expression contorted before he let out a bitter laugh. “No, of course you didn’t. Your mother probably never gave them to you. She never held any love for me.” 

“I remember you did not hold much for her either.” (Y/N) spat. “She told me that you fled Runestone the night after I was born, and did not return until my first name day only to flee that night as well.” 

“I was a boy, no older than you are now.” 

“That is no excuse!” 

“No it’s not and I have regretted my decisions every day! I was scared, (Y/N)!” Daemon stood. “When I found out your mother was pregnant I was terrified. We held no love toward each other, and I feared that our hatred toward each other would impact you. I was an idiot boy so I fled. Then you were born, and I was still just this boy, and you were so pure and I could not corrupt that with my hatred so I feld again. I fled again and again, because I was scared I could not be a good father to you, as I could not be a good husband to your mother and she could not be a good wife to me. When I finally realized what an imbecile I had been it was too late, you had no idea who I was.” 

(Y/N) remembered the day of his fourth name day vaguely. 

“(Y/N),” His mother gestured to a skinny man with pale hair and eyes like (Y/N). “Your father is here to see you.” 

The man approached him, and (Y/N) stepped back, placing his mother between him and this stranger. The man’s face fell, and he stumbled back. 

“Perhaps it would be best if I left.” 

“Daemon-” 

“It’s fine.” The man handed a wrapped package to his mother. “Give this to him.”

"You're running? Again?"

"Look at him Rhea-"

"No, run. Like you always do."

The man opened his mouth to speak, but he seemed to think better of it. He turned on his heel and left, and (Y/N)'s mother scoffed.

He had seen his father only a few times after that day, and their meetings had always been brief and curt. His mother had certainly not helped (Y/N)’s view of his father, only ever nodding and staying silent when (Y/N) would complain. He had once asked her why Daemon did not stay for more than a night, and his mother had replied that his father hated the Vale and many of those who resided there. It had crushed (Y/N) to hear, but after learning of the gifts his father had sent that he had not received he could only wonder how much of his own hatred for his father was just what he learned to feel from his mother. 

“I am sorry for my absence.” Daemon said. “I can never make up those lost years, and I know my youth and stubbornness is no excuse but-” 

His father took a deep breath, “(Y/N), I wish- if you would allow, for us to start again. I know I cannot ask you to forget the years I was not there for you, but allow me to start again.” 

“I understand.” (Y/N) said, “I cannot forgive-” 

“-I wouldn’t ask you to-” 

“-but I understand. I understand more than I did at the very least.” (Y/N) said, and the tension in his father’s shoulders eased. (Y/N) smiled, it was probably a bit pained, (Y/N)’s head throbbing even more with the revelations of the morning. “We can try to start again. I make no promises, but we can try.” 

His father smiled, a genuine smile that (Y/N) had never seen across his father’s face before. “Thank you.”

“You are not participating, (Y/N)?” 

(Y/N) looked at the queen from where he was seated next to Rhaenyra, shaking his head politely. “I am not a knight, Queen Alicent.” 

Alicent looked him up and down, the motion making him squirm a bit. She did not respond but she nodded, turning her gaze back to the tourney fields. 

His father was not participating in the tourney either, instead taking a seat in the stands. Ser Harwin was participating though, much to Rhaenyra’s delight. (Y/N) did not find much delight in tourney’s, bloodshed was not a game to be played. 

In all honesty, (Y/N) was bored watching the tourney. Ser Criston had won, wearing Alicent’s favor which (Y/N) could tell irritated Rhaenyra. By the time the melee rolled around the next day (Y/N) was dreading spending the hot day in the stands of the tourney grounds. 

“May I have your favor, princess.” 

Rhaenyra laughed, giving Harwin a small piece of cloth. He tucked it into his armor, turning to (Y/N) who smiled. 

“I don’t have a favor,” (Y/N) said, and Harwin smiled, cheeks reddening slightly. “But I wish you luck.” 

“Thank you, (Y/N).” 

Their luck and favors did Harwin no favors in the melee. Rhaenyra had shrieked when Cristion’s morningstar made contact with Harwin’s collarbone, shattering it and his elbow. But the worst injury of the day had been to Ser Joffrey, and (Y/N) could not get Laenor’s cries out of his mind even as he fell asleep that night. 

There were no more tourney’s after that as a solemn mood had fallen over the royal court. Ser Harwin would live (Y/N) and Rhaenyra discovered, but Ser Joffrey was not likely to. And as it happened six days later, Joffrey passed, and Ser Laenor was inconsolable. Rhaenyra and (Y/N) both tried, even if (Y/N) was not as close with his cousin as Rhaenyra was, but in the end the knight took his leave back to Driftmark before the wedding even happened. 

(Y/N) spent the night before the wedding with his father. His father told him the story of his wedding with (Y/N)’s mother, describing how (Y/N)’s grandfather, Baelon, had to drag Daemon to Runestone. 

“If it is any comfort,” (Y/N) mused. “You had to drag me to Kingslanding.” 

Daemon laughed, “I did. But you will have a much happier marriage than your mother and I.” 

(Y/N) lifted his cup, “One can hope.” 

The wedding itself snuck up on (Y/N), the events of the week leading up to it not allowing him to worry about the ceremony. It was only now that he was dressed in red and gold Valyrian robes, standing atop Rhaenys’ hill, surrounded by the lords and ladies of Westeros, that the nerves started to reach him. 

He could hear the distant roars of the dragon’s in the dragon pit as the priest spoke. (Y/N) lifted the dragonglass blade, handed to him by the priest. He made quick eye contact with his father, who only nodded, before slicing Rhaenyra’s bottom lip. He gathered the blood from the cut, dragging his thumb down her forehead. Rhaenyra took her own blade, repeating the action on (Y/N) before slicing her palm.(Y/N) dragged the blade against his palm, taking Rhaenyra’s hand in his. They joined their blood as the priest spoke. 

(Y/N) took the cup handed to him, drinking from it, before handing it to Rhaenyra who did the same. The priest finished his rites, and (Y/N) cupped Rhaenyra’s cheek, he could taste the blood as he brought her lips to meet his. (Y/N) rested his forehead against Rhaenyra’s as cheers were sounded around them. When they pulled away and faced the crowd, he could see his father and uncle smiling. 

Their hands were wrapped by the priest, covering the open wounds, and they descended down the hill. Rhaenyra did not let go of his hand as they went, smiling at him as he helped her into the carriage waiting for them. “Thank you, valzȳrys.”

Both he and Rhaenyra were dressed in their small clothes separately. He’d been offered food and wine before he was brought over to Rhaenyra’s chambers, but he turned them down. He did not wish to spend his wedding night addled by wine. 

Viserys had insisted on a bedding ceremony, and Daemon had no qualms with the idea. But both (Y/N) and Rhaenyra protested. The meeting had ended unsuccessfully, but (Y/N) suspected Rhaenyra had private words with her father, as by the next meeting the topic had been dropped completely and it was agreed there would be no such ceremony. 

The doors to Rhaenyra’s chambers were opened by the guards, and (Y/N) stepped into the room. Rhaenyra was sitting by the vanity, brushing her hair in a velvet dress that hung loosely from her body. (Y/N) felt like a hedge knight in his plain cloth clothing. 

She smiled at him, placing the brush down on the vanity. She glided across the room, coming to stand in front of him. “Valzȳrys.” 

“Ābrazȳrys” 

Rhaenyra gently grasped the laces of his tunic, undoing them slowly. She kept eye contact with (Y/N) as she did so, letting his tongue wet her lower lip as the laces were fully loosened. (Y/N) grabbed the bottom of his tunic, bringing it up over his head, and placing it on a chair next to him. 

Rhaenyra took a deep breath as she watched (Y/N), she brought her hand up and gingerly traced the contours of his abdomen. (Y/N) took her hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of it. 

“Turn around.” (Y/N) said, and Rhaenyra complied. 

He stepped forward, brushing her hair to her front so that he could see the back of her dress. She shivered as his breath touched the back of her neck. He undid the laces of her dress with careful precision, causing her to laugh and joke. 

“Done this before?” 

Instead of responding, (Y/N) let the dress fall down her shoulders, leaving her bare. She stiffened as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, before relaxing as he moved his mouth up her neck. She turned around and (Y/N)’s mouth went dry at the sight of her bare in front of him. She grabbed his neck, leaning up and connecting their lips. She grasped the laces of his trousers, undoing them in haste and shoving them down his legs. (Y/N) stepped out of them, groaning into Rhaenyra’s lip as she grasped him. He could feel her smile against his lips, and he pulled away bringing his mouth to her chest, eliciting a gasp from the princess. 

“(Y/N),” She gasped, and he kissed up her chest to her collarbone and back up to her lips, swallowing her next words. 

He pulled her close to him, lifting her so that she could wrap her legs around his waist and carried her to the bed. He gently set her down, and she smiled up at him. He returned the smile, before reconnecting their lips. Rhaenyra gasped as (Y/N) pulled away to mouth at her neck, she tangled her fingers in his hair pulling him up from where there would inevitably be a mark on her skin the next morning. 

“Stop teasing.” 

“Hen rhinka, ñuha ābrazȳrys.”

---

Translations -

Lykirī - be calm

Sōvēs - fly

Valzȳrys - husband

Ābrazȳrys - wife

Hen rhinka, ñuha ābrazȳrys - of course, my wife

[lizzyiii]

My Baby Targaryen Fancasts

featuring: Jaehaera, Jaehaerys, Maelor, Joffrey, Aegon iii, Viserys ii

。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°

↪Jaehaera Targaryen, daughter of King Aegon ii Targaryen and Queen Helaena Targaryen (couldn't decide)

↪Jaehaerys Targaryen ii, son of King Aegon ii Targaryen and Queen Helaena Targaryen

↪Maelor Targaryen, son of King Aegon ii Targaryen and Queen Helaena Targaryen

↪Joffrey Velaryon, son of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and Lord Laenor Velaryon

↪Aegon Targaryen iii, son of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and Prince Consort Daemon Targaryen

↪Viserys Targaryen ii, son of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and Prince Consort Daemon Targaryen

。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°

What do you guys think? Let me know who you'd swap, and who you fancast as the baby Targaryens. and yes i did put legolas as viserys, i did that.

[blxkstar]

A lion doesn’t concern himself with the opinions of a sheep

I made a playlist for House Lannister. Please check it out!

When you play the game of thrones, you win, or you die

Any man who must say I am the king is no true king

[xxcocoiiixx]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐒

𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑏𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑟𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑦��𝑖𝑎𝑛 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝐵𝑟𝑎𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑇𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑦𝑚𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠． 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑝𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑢𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛（𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑛 𝑠𝑜𝑖𝑙 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑖𝑔𝑛 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟）𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡’𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑒？𝑂𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟？

𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑒 𝐴𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒 （2006） 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑄𝑢𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒 （2023）

Stay tuned……

xoxo,

xxCocoiixx

[ophelias-lamentation]

Princess Aelora Targaryen The Beloved. Born to King Viserys and Queen Alicent Hightower during 117 AC, during her pregnancy the Queen rekindled her friendship with her stepdaughter Rhaenyra, who was pregnant with Prince Joffrey Velaryon, as they both suffered from difficulties. The princess was born a fortnight after Joffrey. A pink egg with lavender starbursts was placed in the cradle of Aelora a week after her birth, a gift from Rhaenyra as a gesture of goodwill to the Queen, the egg hatched shortly after her first name day. Aelora was the first of Alicent’s children to hatch an egg in the cradle and the dragon went nameless until the girls fourth nameday when she declared that like herself her dragon would be called Sweetling. She would later write to her betrothed Jacaerys Velaryon, Prince of Dragonstone, that she regretted the name as her three elder brothers all relentlessly teased her for the silly name. Aelora was loved by every person in the Red Keep due to her sweet and kind nature. She was a favorite playmate of all the royal children, except her eldest brother Aegon who was a full decade older and thought that she was irritating, though when he voices this opinion out loud he was met with scalding reprimands the loudest voices being those of Rhaenrya and her eldest son Jacaerys. In a letter to Lord Cregan Stark, Aelora wrote that as a young girl her favorite companions were her sister Helaena and her future husband Jacaerys. Two months after her seventh nameday the princess mounted and rode her dragon Sweetling, the dragon keepers recorded that the she-dragon was the most docile dragon that they had encountered and believed that its soft nature was an effect of only ever being bonded to the sweet Princess. After her first flight the delicate pink beast was often spotted in the skies above Kings Landing along with the dragon Vermax and his rider Jacaerys. When not in lessons Aelora spent most of her time flying or in the gardens with Jacaerys catching bugs for Helaena, the young Prince would present her with flower after flower and she often coaxed him into bunching the flowers together and gifting them to Queen Alicent. On her ten and second nameday, shortly after the death of her father and the coronation of her sister Queen Rhaenyra it was announced that she was betrothed to the Crown Prince Jacaerys, thus finally uniting the two factions of House Targaryen.

The pair would not wed until after the princesses ten and sixth nameday when Jacaerys was nine and ten. The couple did not take residence of Dragonstone until shortly after Aeloras eight and tenth nameday weeks before the birth of their first child Valerion. As soon as she was able to ride her dragon she took flight with her child strapped on as her husband flew by her side, her children would all experience a “first flight” and the tradition has continued on as the current King and Queen, Jaehaerys II and Daenarys both experienced a first flight and plan to do so with their first child. The couple only lived on the island during the fall as Jacaerys was expected to sit it on Small council meetings. In 139 AC the Queen Rhaenyra passed away at the age of 42 just a year after the birth of her first grandchild due to an Ambush from the Free Cities during a royal progress. King Jacaerys the Just and Queen Aelora the Beloved were crowned a week after her death and just two weeks later the Queen gave birth to her second child, a baby girl named Daella. The Queen would go on to give birth to eleven more children over the next decade. The identical twins Virion and Raemar were born in 141 AC, next in 142 AC was a baby girl named Naerys, in 144 AC the Queen once again bore twins this time a boy named Vahaelor and a girl named Saerena, in 146 she gave birth to a boy named Aerion, in 148 AC she gave birth to a boy named Aelyx, and in 149 she gave birth to her last twins child at the age of 32 two identical baby girls she named after her half-sister Nyra and after her fathers first wife Aemma. All of her children became dragon riders, all hatched eggs from Vermax and Sweetling in the cradle. Aelora learned from her own mistake and didn’t let her children name their dragons until their fifth nameday. Their dragons were Symeon a green male dragon with gold scales, Jonquil a lavender she-dragon with white horns and wings, Hura a black male dragon with silver scales scattered throughout, Vezos a gold male dragon, Qelos a silver and gold she-dragon, Polaire a light gray male dragon with light blue horns, Vaessia a pale pink she dragon, Darkfyre a red and black male dragon, Eledrar a gray-blue male dragon, Moonfyre a silvery dragon with white spatters of scales, and Mirrax a blue she-dragon often compared to Dreamfyre. Her eldest two children would eventually succeed Taetym and Jacaerys in 197 AC. Virion served as Master of Laws on his brother small council while Raemar served as Master of Coin, both boys were known to be the most studious of the eleven children. Naerys married Virion and their descendants reside in a castle in the North and are now known as House Jelmor. Raemar married the youngest princess of Dorne and his descendants are now known as House Vezor and live on the Border of Dorne and the Stormlands. Vehaelor married a daughter of House Baratheon and his descendants live in a castle on the border of the Stormlands and The Reach and they are now called House Jelmazmo. Saerena married the second son of House Hightower and her descendants now lives in a castle adjacent to her twin brothers in the Reach and are now called House Havon. Aerion married the granddaughter of Tybald Lannister and now his descendants reside in the Westerlands and are known as House Endia. Aelyx married into House Greyjoy and his descendants now control one of the Iron Islands and are known as House Aegenka. Nyra married a son of House Royce and her descendants live on a mountain and are known as House Eglie. Aemma their youngest daughter, married the second son of House Tully her descendants now reside in the Riverlands and are named House Qelbar. Each line descended from King Jacaerys and Queen Aelora possess the white hair and purple eyes of Old Valyria and every member is a dragon rider, the line of the Great King and Queen have created a new Valyria and they spread their culture without hindrance due to the crippling of the Faith when King Jacaerys exposed their plot to divide House Targaryen and end the House of the Dragon.

Hi guys!!!! So this is kind of a rewrite of house of the dragon but where Alicent has a daughter after Daeron and her and Rhaenyra are pregnant at the same time and bond over their difficulties, this bonding brings them close together so the Dance never happens. Basically Jacaerys and his wife create a new Valyria and establish 10 new houses full of white haired, purple eyed, dragon riders all throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Pls let me know if y’all want more, this is my first fan fix and I kind of want to expand but just know that. I might write about the other children’s roles in this new Valyria. Also btw Jaehaerys II is our Jon Snow. Love all y’all the most

XOXO,

mae

[targrayenbunny]

plot points

trying to find a name for event in my fic so help

its a events that would probraly last 4 to 7 days in the fic

[afro-hispwriter]

Interview Shenanigans(TGC)

Tom Glynn-Carney x actress!reader

Request

Warnings- not edited, brief titty grabbing

wc-1.2k

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Staff members were running around making sure lighting, sound, and cameras were ready. The interviewer was standing off to the side, waiting for their queue. 

Your makeup artist did some more touch ups and the show's publicist gave another talk. 

“You’re so far.” Tom put his hand under your chair and dragged it so your chairs touched. The sudden movement made you grab his shoulder so you didn’t fall. 

“Do you not get enough of me at home?” You whisper.

“I never can.” He flashed you a smile and squeezed your knee. You scrunched your nose at him and kissed his cheek. 

It was so hard for you two to keep your relationship away from the public. Especially since Tom is extremely touchy.

“Everyone take their places.” The producer calls out and everyone takes their seats. The interviewer walked into the small space and shook you and Tom's hand. The producer then started counting down from five. 

“Alright guys, we're going to jump right into it. I know you have had a long day so I have some fun questions and some would you rather.” 

“I'm excited.”

“Fun.”

“You guys have been working together for a couple years now. What's the best thing about each other?” They ask and you and Tom look at each other.

“Ooo that's such a sweet question.” You smile brightly and look at Tom. “Why don’t you go first?” You look at him with squinted eyes and he gives you the same look.

“Fine. I think the best thing about Y/n is how kind she is, she is very resilient and always tries to see the bright side of things and she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” 

“Awww.” You cooed and smiled. “You’re so sweet.” 

“And she is a good cook.” You doubled over slightly and laughed. 

“I know you love it.” You leaned back against your chair and Tom looked at you lovingly and you sighed. 

“Tom, he um.” You start and pause to think.

“Oh whatever should you say since there is so much to choose from.” He says over exaggerating his words making you laugh.

“Tom, he makes sure that I am seen and even if he has nothing to say he still listens, always. I believe we all need someone like that and I am glad I found him.” You grab Tom's knee and squeeze it. 

“Do you fancy me or something?” He says jokingly, making you laugh again and so does the interviewer. 

“He’s just such a good guy and I hope this isn’t the last time we share a screen together.” Tom nodded and lifted his fist up and you gave him a fist bump. 

“That is so sweet, I can feel your chemistry right now.” It was very cheesy for them to say but it made Tom's cheeks burn red and your face warmed. “Now to some would you rather questions. Would you rather go get a pint with Daemon, Joffrey, or Aemond?” 

“Aemond.” You immediately say and Tom’s head immediately shoots to you. 

“Why?” You smirk at him.

“You know why.” He playfully rolled his eyes and leaned back. 

“I would go with Joffrey.” Your eyes widened in shock. 

“And you questioned mine!?” 

“W-Why?” The interviewer asks and Tom goes to answer but stops making you laugh.

“You don’t have to say anything.” You whisper to him

“Well with Joffrey people would leave the pub and it would be quiet.”

“Yeah but I think with Joffery, three pints in and it can get a bit.” The interviewer grimaced. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be near him.” You leaned slightly into Tom. 

“I reckon I can take him though.” Tom says.

“Tom vs Joffrey?” 

“Yeah I’ll just choke him out.” Tom makes the choking motion with his arm and then he dropped them. 

“I'd pay to see that.” You say and Tom laughs and his arm makes its way around your chair. 

“Who would you rather have as your Ride or Die? Jon Snow, Khalessi, or Daemon.”

“Khalessi.” You say immediately again. “Everyone is gone when she is an option.” 

“Your obsession with her is concerning.”

“You can’t blame me.” 

“She is very loyal so I understand.” The interviewer says.

“Im sorry whats a ride or die?” Tom asks, looking between you and the interviewer. 

“It's like me and you.” You say and he still looked at you in confusion. “Like I will do anything for you and you’ll do anything for me no matter what.” You grabbed his knee and you nodded. 

“What were the options?” Tom chuckles.

“Jon Snow, Khalessi, or Daemon.” 

“Oh probably Khalessi then, you know she’s got all the dragons.” 

“Ugh you are so predictable.” You rolled your eyes and he shrugged. 

“I love whatever you love.” He poked your side and made you twist. 

“You’re so cheesy.” You rolled your eyes playfully and looked back at the interviewer.

“Would you rather rule the seven kingdoms of Westeros or be a minister of magic in the wizarding world?”

“Oooo.” Tom lets out.

“Minister of Magic.” You say and Tom nods.

“Likewise.”

“I feel like I would have a higher chance of surviving if I was in that universe.” You say and Toms fingers dipped into the material of your open backed outfit. 

“Well it's still not an easy gig is it?”

“But compared to westeros…” 

“True. There are still a lot of eyes on you.” Then Tom says the stupidest thing. “Wingardium Tapioca or whatever it is.” Your jaw slacked in shock and then your face palmed. Tom looked embarrassed and slapped his legs and started laughing loudly. 

“Oh my gosh Tom.” He grabbed his cup of water and took a sip. 

“I'm going to go cry in the shower after this.”

“Next time we hang out we’re watching all the Harry Potter movies because that was really bad. It's Wingardium Leviosa.” 

“Nerd.” Tom says under his breath in a teasing manner and you squint your eyes.

“Watch yourself sir.” You bumped him with your arm.

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Unfortunately that's all the time we have left.” You and Tom groaned but you secretly knew you were happy it was over. You both held your hand out to the interviewer and Tom's assistant came up.

“The car is outside to take you back to the hotel.” You thanked them and Tom held his hand out for you to grab. Your fingers entwined together and you swung them back and forth to the car. 

-

The hotel room was a welcome sight. Tom threw his hat on the floor and kicked his shoes off. 

“They’ll come by and get these clothes tomorrow most likely.” You say taking off your bottoms, leaving you in your underwear and top. That came off too and so did your bra. Tom stole a look and he smirked and let you put a shirt on. You flopped down on the bed and settled under the covers. Tom was down to his boxers and he settled in behind you. 

“I love you.” He says and kisses the back of your ear and wraps an arm around your waist.

“I love you too.” You twist your head back and pucker your lips. Tom’s lips met yours and he squeezed you. His hand dipped under the shirt and his gingers instantly grabbed a breast and he squeezed. The noise you made was a mix of shock and a moan.

“Tom!” You pinched his arm and he drew his hand back and pouted. “Perv.”

“You love it.” He gave your cheek a big wet kiss, making you grimace and wipe it off.

“Order us some food.”

‘Hmph’

-

Comments, reblogs, and likes are greatly appreciated!

[cdragons]

No Hope - Robb Stark x Lady-in-Waiting!Reader

Summary: You ended it. It killed you to do so, but you had to do it. Soon, it won't matter anyway - you were set to travel with Lord Stark and Lady Sansa as her lady-in-waiting to King's Landing. It's not as if you two will ever meet again. How wrong you were...

Warning(s): Hard Dom Robb, OC is cold, Robb is dark AND delulu, Canon divergence, hard smut, slight BDSM, KIng's Landing criminal justice system, etc.

Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIPPY!!! I know I'm three days late, and I swear I meant to finish this on your actual birthday, but I ended up overwriting, and then I had to be at the DMV for about 7 hours and then had to pack up my house yesterday 🫠. ANYWAY, thank you so much for being such an amazing friend! It really has been such an honor to see how much you, your writing, and your blog have grown! Here's to another year of friendship and great writing!

The siege against King’s Landing was a success, resulting in an overwhelming victory for Stannis’ campaign as the new King of the Seven Kingdoms.

House Lannister, despite the arrival of reinforcements from House Tyrell, led by Ser Loras, was no more. While it was a clever ruse on House Tyrell’s part, neither house would have expected men from the Riverlands to join Stannis in his fight, resulting in an overwhelming victory. As a result, the futures of two of the ancient Seven Great Houses of Westeros now rest in the hands of a new ruler—King Stannis of House Baratheon, a figure whose emergence will undoubtedly shape the course of Westeros.

Despite being a wheelhouse dozens of miles away from King’s Landing at this point, the shouts and cheers of Stannis’ men rang clear in your ears. Inside were three young women transported to the Westerlands—to Robb Stark, the Young Wolf and King of the newly independent North.

The thought of seeing him again after the way the two of you left things off made the ride all the more unpleasant.

You remained silent and softly stroked your lady’s head as she rested her head on your lap. Tried as she could to stay lucid and awake, but it seemed that the stress and terror from being trapped as King Joffery’s former betrothed before being sold to his dwarf of an uncle had taken its toll. As she slept, you took in her features and noted the changes from the child you knew in Winterfell to the young woman trapped in King’s Landing. Her gorgeous red Tully hair lost some of its splendorous luster, appearing more matted and unkempt than you had ever seen it after years of being in Lady Sansa’s lady-in-waiting. Despite being in the South for over a year, her ivory skin seemed to pale until it was translucent. While the court believed her pale fairness to result from her Northern birth, only you and Shay knew that it was from Sansa’s inability to stomach more than a few meager bites off her plate during her mealtimes.

“The circles under her eyes have darkened further,” you thought as Sansa gripped your skirt – tightly clenching her fist as if she were a small child still terrified of the dark. “She’s grown too thin – she’s barely improved since I’ve returned by her side.”

It terrified you when Shae, who took your place as her handmaiden, informed you that her mood had improved tremendously since Lord Tyrion’s success in releasing you as a wedding gift to his new wife. Knowing that Sansa, to which your previous liege lord entrusted her care to you, was in such a state for months broke your heart. The bright and cheerful smiles you adored had become so rare since you returned to her side. But you hoped that due to recent events, your red-haired wolf would soon smile as brightly with all the more radiance as she did as a child.

“Do you think Lord Tyrion will be alright?”

You looked up to see Shae sitting across from you on the other side of the carriage. Her expression, while usually impassive and unreadable, was fraught with unease about the uncertainty of the future—hers and her lover’s.

“Stannis Baratheon is not one who shows mercy,” you answered truthfully. “It is likely that he will face the same fate as his nephew, as well as his sister and father.”

Perhaps your tone was too blunt, judging by the slight flinch Shay gave when you referred to Joffery Lannister. But, it would not help anyone, much less her, if you spoke anything less than the truth – that was what Ned Stark taught you since you were a child, and it was by that faith you would remain steadfast no matter what. She deserved nothing less than the truth; it was what you owed her. After all, from what Sansa spoke to you, she helped protect her however she could when you were not by her side.

And for that, you were most grateful.

“However,” you continued, “perhaps Lord Varys will vouch for him. The Master of Whispers holds Lord Tyrion in high regard, and out of all his family, your lover is admittedly the best of them. If nothing else, maybe he’ll pledge loyalty to Stannis and convince Tommen to do the same.”

 She grew flustered, “He is not…we are not–”

“You will not find judgment from me,” you assured her with a bitter chuckle. You looked down at Sansa, her sleeping figure sparking a twinge of guilt in your heart. “Believe me, I am the last one to preach about the sins of an affair between a lord and his servant.”

It was a joyful reunion between mother and child. Before the wheelhouse fully stopped, Sansa flung open the doors and leaped out, racing into her mother's arms. Lady Stark was just as eager to hold her daughter – forgetting all forms of propriety and etiquette when she picked up her skirts to run. Both were a mess of wide smiles and joyful tears, and you don’t believe you’ve ever seen Lady Stark act so young. Seeing the two embrace – one who lost a husband and two sons and the other who lost a father and two brothers –made for such a beautiful scene that it made you weep in relief.

“I did it, my lord,” you silently prayed out, “I’ve kept my promise.”

You swore you felt your liege's gratitude by the gentle breeze that blew through the field. But unfortunately, the joy you felt would only further load the weight of the shackles of your guilt and self-loathing that refused to release you. Even if someone as good and honorable as Ned Stark could find it in his heart to forgive you – you couldn’t help but feel you don’t deserve his forgiveness.

…No…you knew you didn’t deserve it, and knowing that made the shackles heavier than you’ve ever felt.

Sansa was absent since Lady Catelyn insisted that her daughter remain by her side for the night. Shae accompanied her, and you remained alone as you lay on the cot set for you. A squire announced himself before entering the tent the men had set up for you and Shae. He called out your name and informed you that you were expected to wait in His Grace’s tent.

“His Grace requested a moment with you,” he explained, “he wishes to thank you for your service and loyalty to Princess Sansa.”

“Well, you can tell ‘His Grace’ that he can thank me here,” you scoffed. “Because I’m not fucking moving.”

You dismissed the young man without a second thought. Seriously? Did he genuinely expect you to come so quickly to him? Honestly, the nerve of that man.

It was not long before the squire returned.

“H-his Grace insists that you meet him,” he stammered.

The poor boy looked terrified, like a little puppy caught by its master for doing something it wasn’t supposed to. Seeing his discomfort was almost adorable – it nearly made you smile.

“And I insist that he let me rest,” you raised your brow and cocked your head to the side. “Or is he, in fact, ordering me to meet him? Ahh, and after such a long journey – honestly, he acts so spoiled sometimes, such a typical highborn born with everything.”

“Please, my lady,” he pleaded.

You impassively stared at the poor fellow briefly. His cheeks were flushed bright red underneath the dirt and grime, and his eyes looked close to crying. Gods, Robb – what in the Seven Hells kind of tongue lashing did you give the poor boy? Surely, he wasn’t so desperate to see you, especially considering how the two of you left things off.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I suppose I could spare him a moment. But it won’t be before I’ve had a bath – I’ve already called for hot water; it won’t be long.”

“Oh, thank you, my lady,” he sighed in relief. “His Grace will be most grateful to see you once he is finished speaking with his council in the war tent.”

Fuckin’ son of a–

You swore you felt a vein on your forehead pop. Did that idiot really summon you to his tent while he was in a council meeting?

The walk from your tent to Robb’s was a battle in itself - your mind dreaded what your heart longed for.

You had just finished your bath and changed into a simple linen dress (plain but clean) when you decided you kept His Majesty waiting long enough (two hours, give or take). You were just about to enter when a particularly irritatingly slow clap stopped you in your tracks. There was only one person who could bring out your ire in such a short amount of time. You turned around to see Theon Greyjoy – standing and smirking like the arrogant bitch you fought and played with since you were just a girl.

“Well, aren’t you a vision?” he smirked. “Makes you wonder how the men of King’s Landing kept their hands to themselves when they saw you.”

“Wouldn’t know,” you wryly replied, “after all, I spent most of my time there in a dark, damp cell. I barely had enough food and water to survive, let alone to be a vision.”

Although Theon still joked and teased like he always had, you could see the war had taken its toll on him. He grew thinner. His body had lost weight, and his muscles appeared leaner and more taut. His shaggy curls were more closely trimmed and no longer tickled his shoulders. But his eyes—how they looked so haunted and tired—made your heartbreak.

“He’s missed you,” he whispered. There was no need to state a name – you both knew who he was referring to.

“He got married,” you replied while looking away. To a Frey, no less.

“She's dead, and he never loved her.”

“That makes it better?”

“It does when you were the one who broke his heart,” he retorted.

You sharply turned back, “That is not–”

Light poured out of the tent behind you as the front flap opened. You heard your name being called out in that tone that always made your knees buckle—revering and filled with longing with an undertone of authority. It beckoned you to look at him, and when you did, you swore you felt your heart leap into your throat by him.

“You’re late,” he grunted.

Robb Stark, with his crystalline blue eyes not once looking away from you, shifted to the side and let you in. His gaze moved to Theon and narrowed when he noticed the lack of distance between the two of you. Saying nothing, you silently bowed your head before heading inside the warm tent. However, you remained close enough to hear the brief exchange between the Greyjoy and Stark. But after being away from Robb for so long, you couldn’t focus on any words between the two men.

Taking a deep breath, your body tingled as you took the familiar notes of fine leather and freshly burned smoke. You glanced at his bed and longed to lie in its furs without the hindrance of clothes. Your mouth watered at the idea of wrapping yourself in them. The idea of pressing your nose against the furs made your center throb and grow wet, as the idea of the scent of his hot sweat mixed with his musk trapped in those hides was almost too much to bear.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you nearly missed Robb calling out your name. You responded by regaining your composure as quickly as possible so as not to betray any lustful thoughts swimming in your mind.

“What did you and Theon talk about?” he bluntly asked, standing impassively as you remained silent.

“Was the journey smooth?” he tried again. Nothing.

“I hope my men–”

“Idle prattle doesn’t suit you,” you tiredly sighed. “Just tell me whatever you waited so long for, and then I can return to my tent and finally rest.”

Robb clenched his fists and stared at the ground. How cruel, how unfair – one word from you, just hearing your voice, struck every word on his tongue dead. War made him lax. He, of all people, should know how you could drive good men to insanity.

Yes – it felt like he was going mad.

He looked up from the ground and wanted to weep. There you stood – looking as beautiful as a fresh layer of snow and just as cold. It took everything in him not to reach out and pull you close. He wanted to feel your body close to his, to revel in the softness of your hidden warmth. He wanted to go back to Winterfell – to simpler times with his father and brothers alive and laughing, to when Jon was by his side and his brother and best friend, and to when you would look at him like he was your world.

How you used to look at him – how he still looked at you.

Robb tried to start a conversation to loosen the tense atmosphere, but it was clear you weren’t having it. You even cut him off on his third attempt. Your voice was so cold that it burned him like ice. He wasn’t even sure if you were looking at him or just at a corner of the tent so you could maintain that cold, domineering façade you had perfected since childhood. It was obvious to him that you were trying to goad him into losing his temper – giving you the perfect excuse to leave and ignore him again.

Why else had you sent his squire back to him after he requested your presence to wait for him at his tent? Furthermore, why else did you make him wait two hours for your bath?

“I wish to thank you for your loyalty towards my sister during her time as the Lannisters’ hostage,” Robb calmly said, keeping his voice steady but firm. “You acted bravely.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I acted as anyone else would have in my position. My loyalty to your sister and family is not something to be admired or coveted.”

“That’s not true,” Robb argued. “Your loyalty to my family is nothing short of admirable. It’s only right that–”

“Robb.”

It was infuriating how regal you looked, carrying the air of a queen.

“My loyalty will always belong to House Stark, that’s true – but,” you stared deep into his gaze, “all I cared about in that damp, rotting cell, where I was given barely enough water and food to survive, was whether my lady was well.”

Please stop it.

“I didn’t endure because my lady was a Stark,” you continued, “I endured because it was Sansa.”

He couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Is it only for Sansa that you’ve suffered?” he rasped in anger.

This wasn’t good; he just got you back. If he doesn’t properly utilize this chance, you’ll be gone from him forever. He knew you’d never leave Sansa’s side. Your loyalty to her, even when she still acted like the spoiled little princess of the North, drew him to you. As the eldest daughter, Sansa was the one closest to their mother. However, as the second eldest child, it also meant that she had to understand she could not always have their parents’ attention. Before Jeyne Poole, before Septa Mordane – you were Sansa’s first and constant companion. You were someone whose loyalty ran deep and remained unwavering in the worst times.

He collected himself enough to apologize for his outburst when your voice returned – regal and imposing, cold and distant.

“Not just Sansa,” you stated. “…I also made a promise to Lord Stark.”

Something in him snapped. Robb considered himself a good man, an honorable man. One whose father instilled lessons of honor and duty in him since he was old enough to walk. A father who he missed, whose absence was painful. But hearing you speak of him, of his father, it was like a bucket of ice water was poured over him, and it awoke a bitter memory he had long forgotten.

“Is it true?” Robb demanded unannounced after storming into his father’s private study. His father sat at his desk, appearing as tired and weary as the day of his departure from home to the vicious South treads closer with each passing day. Ned set down his quill and sighed deeply. He knew it would not be long before Robb would come in to demand an explanation. He supposed that, as his boy’s father, he owed his eldest son that much… if for not his own sake, then for the sake of closure. “…What may you be referring to, Robb?” he asked, despite already knowing what this was about. Robb furiously shook his head, “Do not pretend with me, Father. Did you or did you not plant the idea of a future engagement between her and me as treason against you?” “…Before I answer that,” Ned began carefully, not wanting to upset his son further, “am I to understand that when you mean ‘her,’ you are referring to a particular lady-in-waiting favored by your sister?” It frightened Ned how quickly Robb’s anger was snuffed out. He whispered your name with reverence and veneration fit for the Maiden. But just as soon as his heir’s fury went away, it came back at a speed and quantity tenfold. Ned could see it in his eyes. Robb may have inherited his Tully mother’s eyes, but the cold storm raging in them could only belong to one whose blood belongs to the Old Gods of the North. “Sansa requested her to accompany us while she learns to be Prince Joffrey's future queen,” Ned explained. “Robb… your sisters need people they can trust – now more than ever with Bran’s accident.” “And she’s agreed to this?” Robb interrogated. “You expect me to believe that?” “Yes,” Ned solemnly nodded, “because it was brought up to me by her…”

Robb didn’t believe it then, and he still didn’t believe it now. He refused to entertain the idea of you, of all people, who would propose to his father that you leave him. You, who Robb loved with a love more fervent and true than any fanciful tale sung by the bards in Southern courts. You, who listened to all of Robb’s deepest fears and worries since you and him were still small children. You, who whispered promises of love and devotion to Robb night after night since he first warmed your bed.

You, who cried tears of joy when he secretly proposed to you underneath the blood-red leaves and snow-painted branches of the weirwood tree, swearing his love to you before the Old Gods and New.

…No…no, no, no—it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be…but what other explanation was left?

“Robb…?” your voice gently called out to him. “If that’s all you wish to say to me… then I must be heading back to my–”

He walked forward and tightly grasped your arms, making you unable to escape. Robb felt your feeble attempts to pry his fingers off with your delicate hands. But it was to no avail.

“Why…?” Robb rasped, letting out all the pain and longing he had been keeping locked inside since you dissolved you and his affair. “Why did you leave? …Why did you leave me?”

“Damn you,” you thought. “Damn you, Robb Stark.”

It was pathetic… how easily this man broke down your walls. One word… one word from him was enough to make you want to surrender everything.  

“I…I-I… only did what I thought was best,” you stammered. “For us…and for you…”

Robb scoffed because why wouldn’t he?

“For me…?” he rhetorically repeated. “Leaving me – no, abandoning me… that was for my benefit? Do you really expect me to believe that?”

You shook your head, “Belief is secondary to truth,” you explained. “And I am telling you the truth. I’ve never lied to you.”

“Right, of course – that’s why you ran off to King’s Landing with my sister,” Robb raged. “Yes, certainly that for my well-being. You, being paraded and courted by knights and nobles with their pretty words and fine silks – what a relief to know that you endured all that for me…”

Oh, this son of a – gods, how could one man be so beautiful, yet so infuriating?!

“Did you ever love me?” he asked, his voice a little rough from choking back tears. “Was it ever real? Any of it? Or was it all a lie?”

“I believe I told you I was expected to wake your sister for her early celebration…” you looked out the window, “…right now…? It would seem…?” It was the morning of Sansa’s eleventh birthday. Lady Stark planned to surprise her daughter with a splendid spread of leek pottage, freshly baked bread, slices of smoked meat, and a cup of sweet Dornish wine. She entrusted the duty of waking the little princess of the day to you, Sansa’s most entrusted companion. It was expected that you would take the role. After all, everyone in the castle knew what an absolute nightmare Lord Stark’s eldest daughter was in the early mornings. …But…it would seem that Lord Stark’s eldest son and heir did not understand the gravity of your role today…considering he remained insistent that you spend your morning with him… in his bed… without any clothes on your person. While usually, you’d be much more cross at his insistence… you couldn’t deny how delicious it felt waking up in his arms after a night of gloriously intense lovemaking. And the way he further convinced you by tracing feather-light kisses down your neck and collarbone was downright sinful. “I believe…” he momentarily nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, causing you to softly shriek and giggle. “…I told you never to speak of my sister or any member of my family while in bed with me.” His lips trailed further down to the valley of your breasts. “Stay here…with me…and let’s forget the world this morning.” Gods, it’d be so easy to give in …to remain hidden from the world within the arms of your beloved…but life was hardly so easy. “You know I – can’t…!” you sharply gasped at the feel of his lips around your teat. You pitifully whined his name. “Robb, please…” “Shhh—careful, my love,” he huskily whispered, “unless you want all of Winterfell to know how even one of its coldest women is powerless against her wolf…” You held his chin to press a soft kiss against his lips. Gazing into his deep pools of sapphire, you knew this was the only man you could ever give your heart to. “My wolf…” you corrected, “and only mine…” “Yours…” Robb agreed as the two of you got lost in each other all over again.

Instinct and fury blinded rationality and composure as a sharp crack rang within the tent as your palm made contact with Robb’s cheek. Hot tears spilled from your eyes as the wet trails streamed down your cheeks.

“Fuck you, Robb…” you grit out.

Did he not think you haven’t craved him and his love as much, if not more, since your separation? Was he so obtusely… thick in the skull to think that you hadn’t cursed yourself for plunging you both into the cruel depths of a life without the other? Had he not realized that what saved you from falling into despair… from the moment you were thrown into the Red Keep’s dungeons… was your sweet memories of him?

You angrily swiped away your tears on the back of your hand before shoving him aside so you could make your way out of the tent. You couldn’t stand to be so close to him, not anymore, not when it cut you so deeply.

What was the point? Of being so close to one when they cannot have the other?

But it seemed your king did not agree with your sentiments as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back toward him. Your chest collided against his, and you felt the hard planes of his muscles and wanted to sink to your knees while stripping him of all barriers that blocked his glorious body.

Robb growled as he felt the tremulous rhythm of your beating heart, effectively giving away all your true feelings and desires toward him – the same he felt to you.

“You’re a cruel woman…” he growled as he forced you to look into his deep, blue eyes by holding your chin, “but you’re my woman.”

Without another word, he seized you by the arm and threw you onto his bed. He tore off his tunic before gripping your ankles with both hands and forcing them wide open before he forcefully pulled your body to the end of the bed. Not wasting another moment, he clutched the neckline of your nightdress and tore it open, leaving you exposed and defenseless against him. You felt the peaks of your breasts harden against the cold air and tried to cover them with your arms, but Robb slapped your hands away and pinned your hands above your head.

“And I’ll make sure you learn your place by the time I’m done with you…”

Time meant nothing inside that tent. The only things that mattered were Robb Stark, young King of the North and recently widowed, and you, his precious whore he loved so dearly. It could have been an hour, it could have been five –you couldn’t tell. All you knew was that your former lover was currently cementing his claim on you as his bitch-in-heat by making you cum twice with his fingers and thrice more from his cock.

“You *huff* …really…expe- fuck…!” The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, interrupted by the squelch of your juices mixed with his as he moved in and out of you. He loudly groaned when he felt your walls clamp down on his still-hard shaft. “Fuck – how are you still so fucking tight…?”

You didn’t answer him; you couldn’t – at least not with words. Each of Robb’s thrusts hit that spot inside you that made you lose all sense of logic and rational thought. All you could offer was broken garbles and moans of your ecstasy as your insatiable wolf continued to feast on your pleasure. And this only seemed to further incense Robb into driving himself deeper inside you, as if he had not already caused you to peak three times since he first pushed into you. Your vision became blurry as your eyes crossed, but he brought you back by delivering a hard slap against your bottom, the stinging pain quickly shifting to ebbing pleasure.

“Well?” he tauntingly jeered, thoroughly enjoying your sharp tongue could only be quieted by him fucking you dumb. “I expect an answer…!”

“Ah-ah-ah – FUCK…!” you cried out after he delivered another harsh slap on your bottom’s other cheek, making you sharply gasp and continue to slather your drool and tears into his bed’s furs. “I don’t know…!”

Robb cruelly smirked, “Don’t know…?” He grabbed the front of your neck and pulled you until your sensitive back was pressed flush against his hard chest. “Don’t lie to me… you know… don’t pretend that you don’t – but do you want me to tell anyway?”

Fervently nodding, you felt him grin as his hot breath panted against your neck, causing goosebumps to prick across your skin covered in bite marks.

“It’s because…” Robb quickened his pace from rough to erratic as your mind nearly blanks from feeling more and more of him hitting the entrance to your womb, “we both know that cunt belonging to such a cold whore like yourself…could only be thawed with cock like mine and only mine.”

The war changed him. The Robb you knew and loved would never dream of speaking to you in such a filthy and vulgar manner. Before, your Robb always made love to you sweetly with the gentlest touches, and as far as you could tell and feel, he was gone. In his place was a wolf with a voracious appetite who could only seem satisfied with your humiliation from his rough squeezes and unforgiving pace. The evidence was plain to see by how he littered your body with purple love bites down your neck, red bite marks over your breasts and inner thighs, and deep indents of his nails from gripping your hips too hard and too long.

And the worst part of it? You loved it. Every bit of his ministrations was a piece of heaven. If this were torture, then you would only crave pain for the rest of your existence. Everything hurts so good, from the way his thick, throbbing cock stretches your walls to the way his rough, calloused hands manhandle your body with his bruising grip. You weren’t sure if there was anything left of you that Robb didn’t already possess. Your eyes glazed over the veins in his arms bulge as you barely register the rasped grunts and growls leaving his lips. If you looked down, you were sure to see the outline of his cock bulging from inside you as he continued to split you open.

He stilled for a moment and whispered in your ear as you cried out your frustration and begged him not to stop.

“I’m going to cum in you,” he rasped with perverse glee, “and afterward, I’m going to make sure my seed takes root in your womb.” He pushed your face down to the furs and forced your hips to meet his thrusts without mercy. “You tried to… escape your fate by leaving. Well, *huff* let me tell you right now… that’s never going to happen – I’ll lock you… in the tallest tower in Winterfell and chain you to the bed if I have to…”

One of his hands left your hips and went below you as his fingers deftly sought out the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs that was your clit. You tried to protest, not sure if your body could take even more pleasure, but all that came out was a warbled cry as he pressed down and circled your bud. The overstimulation was proving to be too much as your body started shaking. You felt a cord tightening more and more until it just *snapped*, and you screamed out your release as your entire body trembled.

Robb refused to let up his pace, and he continued to thrust in and out of you as you felt him stiffen and – gods, how did he get even bigger? Before he released his seed inside you, he bottomed out – making sure that there was nothing of him that was not inside your sopping cunt. Your vision went white as he let out a loud and powerful groan from his release, and you could feel his hot seed painting your inner walls with his essence.

His peak seemed to drain him of all his energy as he gathered you in his arms without pulling out and resolved himself to finally rest. His sweaty forehead rested against your shoulder as he panted. Between each labored breath, he planted a kiss across your shoulders – your body still twitching from the intensity it endured as you, too, tried to catch your breath.

All was silent until you found yourself speaking, “…There was no hope, was there…?”

Robb lifted his upper body on one arm to hover over you. You repeated your question, to which he gave you a relaxed smile and tucked a stray piece of hair stuck to your temple behind your ear.

“No, love…” he confirmed. “But you must have known that from the beginning…I would have never let you go.”

…How does one respond to that?

You tried to search for the answer in his eyes, but all you saw was love… love, and madness. It was always there inside him; you’ve known that from the beginning… only you were blinded by his beauty and your love for him. But your lord knew the truth; he saw that obsessive love from the start; after all, Robb was his son. He warned you, but you didn’t listen. It wasn’t until you saw him beat a poor knight bloody and broken on the ice-covered ground – all because you made the mistake of smiling at him.

That’s why you ended your secret engagement. You had hoped that time and distance would ebb away the insanity flowing in his blood, or perhaps he would find someone else and eventually forget you – whichever came first.

But that was a fool’s dream; you knew that now.

Wordlessly, you nodded, to which Robb gently pressed his lips to yours, just as he had back in Winterfell. With each second, you began to respond more and more to the kiss. You wrapped your arms over his neck as his lips trailed down your next again, and you felt your sore body humming for more despite its sensitivity. Your fingers gripped his unruly, dark auburn curls as a tear trailed your cheek.

Forgive me, my lord…I’ve failed.

But you know you were secretly glad of it. After all, how could you not be? Life was growing inside you at that very moment.

Tagging: @dipperscavern, @ethereal-athalia, @axelsagewrites, @rise-my-angel, @anewpersonthatexists, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @lenasdmns, @justmymindandstuff, @aoi-targaryen, @vyctorya, @metalblindbitch, @h34rts-4uu, @aphroditesmoon, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @sylasthegrim

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

hiii omg istg your modern jace works have been living in my mind RENT FREE THEY'RE SO DAMN GOOD but like a modern college jace bringing reader to meet rhaenyra and his brothers for the first time would be soooo cute, like i feel like joffery would LOVE that his big bro had a gf and would like pull her to colour with him and do stuff like that and rhaenyra would love her like a daughter, luke would LOVE embarrassing himm <3

Season 2 is premiering right now, but I have to wait until 10pm to watch since I don't have access to HBO Max... Please come to my ask and send me requests/let's talk about the new episode!! I will be opening them after I watch and giving my thoughts on the episode every weeks 🐉⚔️🖤

Thank you  so much for the love for modern!Jace. I really enjoy writing about him. This one was challenging to write as there was a lot of people to write about. I hope you like it!!

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Jacaerys came home for Thanksgiving, he didn’t tell his family about you. You had only been dating for a couple of weeks and were still getting to know each other. It was too soon to announce that he had someone in his life. But a mother's instinct never fails to recognize the smile on her son’s face whenever he looks at his phone or the hushed phone call she had heard when she walked by Jace’s bedroom. 

Although she wanted to know everything about Jace’s new girlfriend, Rhaenyra respected her son’s privacy and let him tell her in his own time. That was until Luke spilled the beans after coming across a picture on social media where Jace was holding and kissing a girl’s cheek.  

In typical brothers behavior, Jace sent a lot of middle finger emojis to Luke for spilling to their mother. 

After a long phone call with her, a date was set. Joffrey’s birthday was coming up, so Rhaenyra saw it as a good opportunity to meet you. And Joffrey would love for his big brother to be there on his seventh birthday since he missed it last year. 

‘’Mom, we’re home!’’ Jace called as he opened the door of his childhood house, carrying small bags for your weekend stay. 

The sound of footsteps on the second floor filled the small entryway as Jace dropped the bags with a thud, making you jump. You took a deep breath, your nerves getting the best of you.

‘’It’s going to be fine. They’re gonna love you,’’ Jace reassured you, kissing your temple sweetly before an overexcited Joffrey came down the stairs. ‘’Here’s the birthday boy!’’ 

Joffrey hugged Jace, happy that he was home. It must not be easy for him to not see Jace everyday anymore. 

More footsteps came from the back of the house as Rhaenyra, with a blond toddler in her arms, came to greet you. Her warm smile was welcoming. You couldn't help but notice how Jace's features mirrored hers. Except for the hair and eyes. He must have gotten them from his father. 

‘’Hi. It’s lovely to meet you,’’ she said, her voice kind and genuine. ‘’I would give you a hug, but I’m worried Viserys is going to try to pull on your hair… He picked up this bad habit last week and we’re working on it.’’ 

You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. ‘’No worries, it’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Targaryen,’’ you replied, glancing at the curious toddler who was eyeing you with fascination. 

‘’Please, call me Rhaenyra.’’

Joffrey tugged at your and Jace’s sleeves, his eyes wide with excitement. ‘’Come, I want to show you my birthday cake. There’s a big dragon on it.’’ 

Rhaenyra was quick to correct the young boy, laughing dryly. ‘’There is no birthday cake in this house.’’ 

You chuckled politely, figuring out that Joffrey must have seen the cake by accident and Rhaenyra was trying to keep it a surprise. 

‘’Jace told me you have a massive dragon collection,’’ you said, driving the young boy’s attention to something else than the birthday cake. ‘’Is that true?’’ 

Joffrey grinned and began to tell you all about his dragons. He fetched some from the playing room and brought them over to show you on the couch, giving you all sorts of information about dragons. There was one of every color and size. Some had horns and a threatening stare, while others looked simply beautiful. 

While you were occupied with Joffrey, Jace went upstairs to drop your bags in his bedroom. When it came back, he watched the two of you from the corner, finding it sweet how quick Joffrey took a liking to you. He was usually shy around new people. 

‘’Where’s Luke and Aegon?’’ 

Rhaenyra set Viserys down on the floor so he could play with his blocks, and shook her head. ‘’I don’t know. Probably upstairs. Aegon is with Daemon in the backyard. Since we cleaned the old playset, he always wants to go outside.’’ 

Leaning over the banister, Jace called out to Luke.  ‘’Luke! Come here, you little shi—’’ 

‘’Language,’’ Rhaenyra scolded, her eyes pointing at Joffrey and Viserys. 

He apologized and you bit back a smile. He truly was a mama’s boy.

You didn’t meet Aegon and Daemon — Jace’s step father — until dinner. The latter looked intimidating, but he kindly smiled at you as you shook his hand. As he was helping his wife getting the food on the table, she gave him a subtle nod of approval, silently telling him that she liked you.

‘’I told you my mom would like you,’’ Jace said, pulling you with him in the hallway while the younger ones were being bathed and put to bed. His arms were around you, chasing your worries away.

You took a deep breath, feeling the tension leave your body as you smiled up at him. ‘’Now I know where you got your kindness and charm from.’’ 

‘’You think I’m charming?’’ 

Rolling your eyes, you tried to get away, but Jace didn’t let you. 

‘’Joffrey is very fond of you too,’’ he continued, his eyes sparkling with amazement. ‘’I’ve never seen him so at ease with someone he doesn’t know.’’ 

‘’He gave me a full lesson about dragons. He is so sweet.’’ 

Hearing this made Jace happy. For him, family was very important, so it meant a lot to him that you were getting along with his family. 

His gaze softened, his eyes locking onto yours before leaning down to kiss you. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his zip-up hoodie, kissing him back until  a loud, exaggerated gagging sound broke through the moment. 

You both turned to see Luke standing at the end of the hallway, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. 

‘’Do you want to see Jace as a baby?’’ Luke asked with gleeful enthusiasm. ‘’He had chubby cheeks…like Theodore from Alvin and the Chipmunks.’’

Jace groaned in embarrassment and you chuckled, imagining baby Jace with chubby cheeks. ‘’I’d love to see those photos,’’ you teased, nudging Jace playfully.

But Luke wasn't done. ‘’Do you know why there is no school picture of him in fifth grade?’’ he continued, leaning against the wall, clearly relishing the moment. ‘’There was this guy at school who was bullying me and Jace decided to put his big brother pants on and take him on a fight. This guy was two inches taller than him and much bigger, so Jace lost and fell, which knocked his front tooth out the night before picture day at school.’’

You laughed, picturing a brave little Jace standing up for his brother. ‘’You’ve always been protective, I see,’’ you said, turning to Jace.  A small smile tugged at his lips. ‘’Okay. Luke, that’s enough,’’ Jace decided, taking you away from him before more embarrassing stories could come out of his brother’s mouth.

—

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[bumblesimagines]

One More Hour

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: He/Him/His

Summary: As a child, Jace learns the hard way not to mess with his young uncle, Aemond. However, as growing man, he can't help the newfound curiosity.

CW/TW: Targcest/incest (Jace and reader are uncle-nephew), typical Got and HOTD warnings, Jace might feel OOC, takes place in s1, unknown age gap but Jace is like 18/19 and (Y/N) in his early to mid twenties, kinda cheating? (Jace and Baela).

AAHEEEM.

~~~

Jace could do nothing more than stare at his plate with his fists resting over his thighs, one ear listening to the annoying whispering from his uncle while the other desperately tried focusing on the conversations floating around the room. The tension had lessened significantly since everyone first settled down at the dining table for the first time in many years but it did little to prevent Aegon from being a bother. It certainly didn't help that across the table sat his other uncle, (Y/N), who watched the two of them with immense amusement. 

He'd changed since Jace last saw him. No longer a child on the verge of teenagehood but a man-grown talented in sword fighting and the art of making ladies swoon. His silver locks looked vibrant in the warm candlelight and each time Jace glanced upward, his grew captivated with the twinkle of his violet eyes. (Y/N) appeared poised, relaxed and content, with a cup of wine in his hand that he occasionally sipped from as dinner continued. His eyes flickered between observing Jace and checking on his twin, Helaena. 

Jace still vividly remembered the only proper interaction he'd ever had with (Y/N), for the Targaryen often kept to the library or hung around his twin whilst she worked on her embroideries or played with bugs. The two never strayed too far from one another, so much so that it'd surprised Jace when he'd heard the news of Helaena and Aegon's wedding. 

It'd been a warm day full of joy and wonder as Jace and Luke had welcomed their newest baby brother into the family, a sleepy little newborn by the name of Joffery. Of course, despite the wonderful addition to their family, Jace and Luke had plotted with Aegon to prank their uncle, Aemond, whose dragon egg had refused to hatch in the cradle. It was a subject of teasing for them all, harmless and playful in Jace's opinion, but it seemed like not all believed a clumsily put together wings on a pig and offering it over to Aemond had been a fun prank. 

Roughly fifteen minutes had passed and the boys all continued giggling and laughing about it, recounting the look on Aemond's face between snickers, when the door was pushed open and in walked (Y/N) with Helaena trailing behind, her hands cupped and cradling a spider. She barely batted an eye at them, even when (Y/N) strolled up to his older brother and slammed his knee into his groin, only muttering quietly to herself about things the boys couldn't quite understand. 

Jace's amusement in Aegon's pain as he toppled over with a low groan was short-lived, as (Y/N)'s hand curled into a fist and swiftly connected with Jace's jaw. He'd landed the hit well and hard enough for Jace to topple onto the floor as well, crying out in pain as he held a hand to his slowly bruising jaw. Little Luke had attempted to jump to his brother's defense but his smaller frame was easily pushed onto the floor and angry tears sprang into his eyes.

In the end, Rhaenyra and Alicent had argued over who was in the wrong whilst King Viserys lectured them on fighting outside of training. 

But Jace thought of the interaction often, thought of how cool (Y/N) had looked bringing his brother to his knees so easily. Even though his jaw tingled each time the two made eye contact, Jace couldn't help the awe that bubbled in his chest. (Y/N) appeared fully in his element, only observing and providing little input throughout dinner. Regal and with looks that spoke for themselves, such as the one he sent Aegon that forced the older boy back into his chair with a scowl. Otto smiled approvingly. The favorite of his grandchildren, Jace assumed. 

Dinner, however, ended with an outburst covered up to be a speech from Aemond with thinly veiled insults. Their parentage had always been a sore topic for the Velaryon boys and his temper got the best of Jace, prompting him to lash out and cause a stirrup that forced the night to end with all the children instructed to head to their respective bedchambers. 

Jace, of course, fumed all the way to his and Luke's temporary shared bedchambers, although he couldn't find a wink of sleep in his simmering anger and humiliation. Luke had already nearly been brought to tears when their blood had been put to question for courtiers to see by Vaemond Velaryon, they hardly needed a repeat. So, when sleep proved to be a hopeless desire, Jace slipped out into the halls and reacquainted himself with them until he noticed his uncle leaning against the railing of one of the balconies. 

"Uncle," Jace greeted him quietly, the chill of the cool night air bringing goosebumps to his skin. (Y/N) spared him a glance, his attention more captivated by the sky. When Jace squinted through the dark and clouds above, he noticed the silhouettes of two dragons flying together, almost playing from the soft rumbles and half-hearted nips. "Dreamfyre and Grey Ghost get along well, it seems."

"Sometimes I wonder if they're bonded, as Helaena and I are." (Y/N) responded, his voice gentle and soothing to the ear. His eyes tracked the two dragons until they disappeared well above the clouds, finally diverting his attention to his nephew. Jace swallowed under his keen gaze. "The hour is late, Jacaerys, yet you are up."

"So are you." 

"You've seen my reasons." (Y/N) nodded toward the sky. "What are yours, little prince?"

The heat that enveloped his face surprised Jace. "I... I could not sleep." He answered, and hoped the darkness around them hid his reddened skin from the Targaryen. Not many brought such a reaction to him. Sure, there were pretty ladies at court who caught his eye, his newly betrothed among them, but such intense heat...

"Aemond only meant to anger you and you gave him precisely what he wanted. He wishes to get even for what happened in our youth now that he's capable of protecting himself." The rings adorning his fingers glimmered in the moonlight, drawing Jace's gaze to them before it flickered back to his face.

"We were children." Jace insisted. 

"But not toddlers incapable of knowing right from wrong." (Y/N) lifted his brows and Jace fell silent, cheeks puffing out slightly when he scoffed quietly. The Targaryen reached out toward him, fingertips grasping his jaw and running along it until they reached the exact spot his knuckles had met years prior. He grinned. "I taught you a lesson because of it, didn't I, sweet nephew?" 

Jace shivered, unable to tell if the goosebumps were still from the cold or his touch. The cool metals of his rings pressed against Jace's warm skin, the designs engraved in them leaving marks when his hold tightened. His instincts screamed at him to pull away, to create distance between himself and (Y/N), for the gleam in his violet eyes only spelled trouble. Jace remained still, however, unable to break away from the trance.

"Velaryon seed is strong," (Y/N) murmured, his hand moving to touch the brown strands Jace had inherited from his real father, from Harwin Strong. He'd accepted it long ago. He was no fool. If Laenor Velaryon had truly been his father, he and his brothers would share the signature Targaryen look; those beautiful silver locks. "You are no Velaryon, Jace. But your mother's blood makes you a Targaryen." 

"I was raised Velaryon." Jace nearly growled despite the feelings swirling inside him. "My father, Laenor, cared for us-"

"Fuss all you want, Jace. We all know the truth." (Y/N) clicked his tongue and drew closer, hand slipping back to grab his jaws again and hold them, fingertips sinking into his skin with an iron grip that'd likely leave questionable bruises. His lips curled upward in some twisted mix of delight and curiosity. "You may not be Velaryon but you are pretty. I'm sure Father would've insisted you and I wed if you'd been born a lady." He leaned in close enough for their noses to bump and whispered lowly, "You would've been swollen with a babe by now if that'd been the case." 

Jace gaped at him, heat spreading through his body like dragonfire and making his breeches abruptly feel far too tight. His brows knitted together and his hands flew up to slam against (Y/N)'s chest. His uncle willingly released him and stepped back with a short laugh that echoed through the hall. "What makes you think I would've wished for that?" He bristled despite the redness on his cheeks and aching in his stomach. 

"Look at yourself, darling nephew," (Y/N) cooed, invading Jace's personal space again and forcing him against the railing, the roughness of the stone pressing against Jace's palms when he clung onto it. A strangled gasp escaped the brunette when (Y/N)'s hands grasped the underside of his thighs and lifted them, pressing Jace against him. Jace failed to swallow the whimper in his throat when (Y/N) moved his hips against him. Fear invaded his veins at the realization (Y/N) could easily push him over the edge and into an untimely death but it mixed deliciously with everything else. 

"You-"

"What is it, Jace? You look so red." (Y/N) snickered. He truly was the brother of Aemond and Aegon. "Imagine what sweet Baela would think if she saw you like this. I'm sure she'd be horrified and humiliated by her future husband." 

"Fuck you." Jace spat, the grooves and bumps in the railing digging into the skin of his hand. (Y/N) quirked a brow and released Jace's thighs, making him stumble as he regained his footing and released a heavy exhale of relief. His uncle clasped his hands behind his back and chuckled again.

"If that's how you feel, nephew, then I'll bid you goodnight. Safe travels." (Y/N)'s smile morphed into one that could be mistaken for genuine and kind before he turned and headed down the hall to his bedchambers. Jace stared after him, feeling breathless and angry and so annoyingly aroused. 

Digging his teeth into his lip, he peeled himself from the railing and followed the older prince to his bedchambers, his annoyance growing at the way (Y/N) ignored his presence yet allowed him inside his bedchambers. The door slid to a close behind him and Jace's heart fluttered at the smirk (Y/N) sent him over his shoulder. Jace lunged forward, bawling up the collar of his shirt in his hands and tugging him closer, their lips slamming together and teeth almost clacking.

(Y/N)'s bit Jace's lip hard enough to draw a trickle of blood and leaned back. "Behave." He huffed at him. Jace smirked, the blood smearing on his teeth. 

"I don't think so."

It'd been a near hour later when sleep finally crawled up his spine and threatened to lull him into a deep slumber. His lips felt swollen and tinted red from blood; the skin across his body was littered with suckled bruises and teeth marks; his jaw and hips ached with a burn Jace had never felt before; his throat felt hoarse and in desperate need of rest. Thoroughly exhausted and with the events at dinner temporarily erased from his mind, just as he wanted. 

(Y/N) remained laying on top of him with his chest pressed to Jace's back and made no move to release Jace from his tight hold. Jace hardly minded despite the aching and the part of him that whined for milk of the poppy to soothe him. His cheek nuzzled against the spit and sweat-drenched pillow, hardly paying attention to anything other than the feeling of (Y/N) on and in him. 

"What a shame." (Y/N) purred teasingly, his breath tickling Jace's ear. "I thought it'd take a little more to break you."

[spicy30]

Modernness of 1400s 006

Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader

Extra: The reader is noted to be bilingual (Spanish speaking) and is familiar with the majority of Latin-based languages, No use of Y/N

Rating: 18+

Not proofread

Tags: @fan-goddess @meowmeowmothermeower @bunxia @your-favorite-god @coolalienstatesmansports @georgiatesulitsyeykite @qwerrtsworld @wegottastayfocus @dakota-rain666 @talilosha @the-deep-dark-abyss @101crows @agustdeeyaa @ggglich-exe @illjhhlisa @deepeststarlightmoon @cluelessteam @a-fruity-snack @i-zenin

Side note: I don't know why it won't let me tag ppl.

WC: 8.9k

“Princess Helaena?” You entered looking at her. She looked up, putting one of her twins down. It still freaked you out that they were born out of sibling incest. “I have…brought a gift and a proposition.” You spoke quietly as you entered the room looking at the twins. 

You bowed and sat before her while she looked at you with a tilted head and wide eyes. It almost hurt to look at her. She wasn’t too far off from your age yet she held such wide child-like eyes. A child with two children. However, Helena was… breathtakingly beautiful. Of course, all Targeyens were as you quickly came to learn. Even the ones you didn’t like were beautiful. Though you don’t think anyone could hold a candle to the woman in front of you. You shook your head when you realized you were staring for a little too long at her. 

“Sorry. I have bought treats for your children and you, along with a gift that I thought you might enjoy.” You cleared your throat and had the snacks brought in. You smiled at your latest creations. While solving the genetics problem, you figured you needed brain food. Though your version of brain food included what was on the platters they had brought in. 

Potato chips, french fries, and popcorn! After nearly three weeks of starving yourself of junk food, you were feigning for something. 

“What are those?” Helaena asked. You picked up a crisp and bit down on it and it let out a crunch. 

“Potatoes with salt. This one too.” You picked up a fry and ate it. “And this is corn, but it is popped. I call it popcorn! It also pops when cooked. Try them, I think your children might like them more than you and I.” 

You watched Helaena eat one and smile as she chewed and you nodded knowingly. It wasn’t long before she called the twins over and they too began eating the treats. As Jaehaera and Jaehaerys took off with the plate you brought out something wrapped in a napkin. “I made this for you. I was told you liked sweets?”

She nodded and looked curiously at the cloth. Should it be anything like what you had her taste she was looking forward to this. She watched you unwrap the cloth, and there was a golden brown circular thing sprinkled with what looked like sugar. In the middle was something purple and it was glossy. She took it and smelled it before taking a bite. It was soft and the filling tasted like plums. Once more she smiled and you nodded knowingly again. 

“So uh,” You grin toward Helaena. “I hear you like dragon riding.”

… 

“Oh man….” You grimaced looking down at the paper. 

Bb:½ 

BB: ¼ 

bb:¼ 

Bb or BB taken. (HC)

Bb:½ 

BB: ¼ 

bb:¼ 

Bb or BB taken (EC)

JV: ¼ LV: ¼ JOV: ¼ 

¼ * ¼ * ¼  = 1/64 or 1.56%

JV: ¼ LV: ¼ JOV: ¼ = 1.56%

1.56% chance of having present phenotypes. 

You redid the math twice before finally moving on to the assumed father who would have dark hair and dark eyes. Keeping the assumed possibilities…it skyrockets, seventy-five perfect that one child is born with dark hair and dark eyes. 

¾ * ¾ * ¾ = 27/64 ≈ 42.2% 

42.2% chance of having present phenotypes. 

You took a deep breath as you cradled your face in your hands, double-checking the math in your head. There was no mistaking it. Officially and deemed by science. Jacaerys Valeyron, Lucerys Valeryon, and Joffery Valeyron were bastards. 

It was visible to anyone to see their parentage, but now here it was in numbers further damaging them. Were you wrong? No. You had checked the math dozens of times. Your math wasn’t wrong, but were you wrong? Wrong for doing this? Was it right? You only did what was asked of you. You suggested it. You were wrong. Were you? This could ruin lives. You could ruin lives. Is that why you’re here? Truly here? Why were you here? Why was this wrong? It was wrong. You were wrong.

You spiraled. You turned your head away from the table and his scent invaded you. You inhaled deeply balling your fists. Jacaerys coat still hung on your chair. Were you wrong?

A knock sounded on your door and you rushed to hide your work and hide Jacaerys’s coat. Stuffing his coat into your suitcase while you tossed the rolled-up paper under your bed you scrambled to your feet to open the door. 

There stood the last person you wanted to see right now. Jacaerys. You put on the best smile you could and extended your hand to him to beckon him inside. That night as you watched the movie your thoughts ran rampant. 

You wondered as you watched him become engrossed in the movie. Such innocent wandering. So many innocents here. You bit your lip. You were unsure of what to do. Go to Otto and tell him? No…you should probably hold off for a little bit. 

…

“Mayhaps, we can have a painter paint your pictures so that you may have them forever.” 

You snapped your head up. “Really? You would do that?” Your lips formed a wobbly smile. “It would mean the world to me to have them painted out.” You reached out in the dark for his hands holding them close to you. “Thank you Jacaerys Valeryon, really. Thank you.” 

Too many innocents. 

There would be too many innocents hurt. If you had proven him a bastard, what would become of his mother’s claim? The last woman they voted against because she simply was a woman. If it was proven Rhaenrya had no true heirs other than her last two children, she would be labeled a whore. You can only imagine the riots and the insults that will be thrown, and then those that would be slaughtered.

As you walked Jacaerys out you were silent thinking over your next steps. If you truly were here to make a change, if you had to change the course of history, then here and now would influence everything for centuries to come. You would influence centuries.

“Good night Prince Jacaerys.” You bowed. It was the first time you had addressed him as much. Your mind swirled with thoughts. To reform civilization. To speedrun progress. You shut the door and looked back towards your fan watching it spin.

“I am here to make a change.” You murmured as your eyes focused towards the window. Your brows furrowed as you nodded. “Okay. I will. I am…”

With that, you pulled another piece of parchment paper and went to grab the finished genetic problem. Rhaenerya must become Queen. If she became Queen, it would bring about a new era and you would make her reign the best there ever was. An era of change and progress brought about by women. The seeds of equality between man and woman would be planted by you and your first seed would be implanting Rhaenyra as Queen. 

There could be no doubts about her children’s legitimacy. So you rewrote the entire equation. Minor differences made big changes and soon with extra scribbles and making the problem more complicated than it should be…that night you were able to legitimize Jacaerys Valeyron, Lucerys Velaryon, and Joffery Valeryron. 

You looked towards the window, squinting your eyes as the sun began to rise. It had taken nearly a night, but your new and revised equation would serve you well. Standing up and grabbing the old equation you walked over to the fireplace. Once you burned this paper, the truth would be burned and your plan would begin. Without a doubt, you tossed it into the fire and it burned bright. You felt the heat lick at your face as you watched the paper shrivel and burn. 

You would speak to Otto and Alicent after your week away to the Riverlands with Helaena. 

…

You dragged your luggage as you walked to the Dragon pit. You struggled to keep up with Heleana who only offered a smile. 

“Wait here, I will bring out Dreamfyre.” She spoke and you nodded and watched her enter the pit. 

You didn’t know what to expect. Yes, you had seen Vermax, but no other dragon since. You didn’t even know what other dragons they had. You knew Aegon had one, but did Aemond have one? What about Daemon or Rhaenerya? Lucerys? You didn’t know. Were there wild dragons? Is there a place where they’re from? Were there other kinds? Like in how to train your dragon. Maybe large sea beasts! You gave a gasp and a smile bloomed on your face. Could you claim one? Oh, shoot! Maybe an ice-spitting one or one like toothless! However, a fire-breathing dragon is still pretty cool. 

The ground rumbled and you looked as a large claw came out. You stepped back in fear and shock as the very large dragon came out with a roar with Helaena on top. Her dragon was certainly prettier than Vermax in your humble opinion. Dreamfyre was pale blue with silver markings, silver crests, and pale blue wings. She was breathtakingly beautiful. However, that didn’t do much for your pounding heart as Dreamfyre snarled at you. 

Maybe riding a dragon wasn’t a good idea. Dreamfyre was a lot larger than Vermax. You watched the helpers strap yours and Helaena’s luggage to Dreamfyre whilst speaking Valyrian. You were still a bit salty about the fact that you could understand next to nothing when they spoke. 

You watched as Helaena giggled and smiled as she hugged Dreamfyre’s snout. You smiled at the sight though you stood off far in the distance awkwardly. 

“Do you like her?” Helena asked as she turned around looking towards you. 

“Like her? Of course, I do!” You grinned pushing back your fear. Helaena gave you a sweet smile. “How or why is she so big?” You asked with a laugh hoping to cover up your nervousness.

“Dreamfyre is about one hundred-” She began softly while petting Dreamfyre. 

“One hundred!? Years!” You cut her off and your volume made Helaena jump a bit. Dreamfyre was quick to snarl as you gave a small whimper and put your hands up backing away. “Sorry! Sorry. It’s just- one hundred years you said!? How old can they get!? How big can they get!?” You asked keeping your eyes on Dreamfyre making sure you could make a run for it if the situation called for it. 

“I don’t know. I know Balerion was about two hundred years old when he died and he was much larger than Dreamfyre and Vhagar is a couple of decades older than Dreamfyre. She is the biggest of all dragons. She is called the Queen of Dragons.” As Helaena spoke your jaw was slightly agape listening to her. Did you have any animals that were like that? Live to what sounds about two to three hundred years? Trees maybe? Tortoises can live for a hundred or so, no? What about crocodiles? Parrots? No, they only lived up to like fifty or sixty. 

You cleared your throat and nodded pointing at the dragon. “Is she safe to approach?” The last thing you wanted was to be burned alive. Not after you just had your dramatic moment of committing to what you were going to do for the rest of your foreseeable future here. Or even worse, get some part of you burned. That would be ugly, and painful. High chance of getting infected as well. Not a good way to die. It was a miracle you hadn’t caught anything. Didn’t they have smallpox here or something? Most importantly has the black plague already passed?

Helaena smiled and nodded as you stepped closer with caution. You say the way Dreamfyre eyed you. She didn’t seem the most pleased with you. Helaena guided your hand towards Dreamfyre scales. You gritted your teeth in fear and leaned back against Helaena. “Wait! Shouldn’t you let her smell me first or something!? Tell her to not bite my hand off!” 

“Dreamfyre won’t bite you,” Helena assured you but it did nothing to calm you. Not as long as Dreamfyre kept looking at you with a look that stated ‘If Helaena wasn’t here you’d be toast. Literally.’

Your hand touched her warm scales and Dreamfyre gave out a huff. You retracted your hand quickly and stepped away, giving out a little squeal and shaking your hands. You took in a deep breath before nodding to Helaena who only gave you an innocent smile. “Okay, I’m ready. To the Riverlands.” 

As you adjusted yourself in the seat you held on tight to Helaena as she commanded Dreamfyre to fly out. Whilst you gritted your teeth Helaena only gave sounds of contentment. Well, at least one of you was enjoying it. As Dreamfyre picked up height you looked over the lands of King’s Landing. You’d like to see these lands a bit better. It would be nice to find a lake. Preferably walking distance or something. You needed to get out more anyway.

“Can we fly closer to the ground, below the clouds? I’d like to look down.” You asked. You assumed Helaena obliged though you could’ve done with a warning as Dreamfyre plunged. You have a high-pitched scream as Helaena only laughs enjoying the weightless feeling.  

Your grip is tight around her waist as you breathe heavily with wide and concerned eyes. Shaking your head you look around watching the unused green lands. Usually, when you look down in airplanes you would see lands cultivated by agriculture. It was almost strange just seeing green undisturbed. In the distance you squint your eyes and what looked like a lake. It wasn’t too far from King’s Landing. You tapped Helaena and pointed to the water. She looked confused but obliged. You gritted your teeth once more and hung onto Helaena for dear life as Dreamfyre made a sharp turn to the right. It only took a minute to reach the lake. It was in the middle of a small valley and coming from a small waterfall. You looked to the southwest and saw that King’s Landing was still in view. If you had to guess it was about three to four kilometers (≈ 2.45 miles) You gave a small nod. Yes, this distance would be good. It wasn’t too far. It was within walking distance. “Helaena, do you know who owns these lands?” 

Helaena shrugged and shook her head. “Who are the Lords near here?” You asked and Heleana paused to think about it. 

“House Rosby, but I think this might be too close to King’s Landing. It might just be the King’s Land.” You gave a hum listening to Helaena. If this was the King’s land, that would work better for you. 

You nodded then told her you were ready to go to the River Lands.

…

“I have already been unseated once before Daemon.” Rhaenerya urged. “Let me at the very least see the children home.” 

“You were unseated due to the uselessness of Laenor, I am not Laenor. I will not leave my brother. The Hightowers have ruled for long enough.” Daemon spoke unbothered by his wife’s dilemma while flexing his thumb. There was some stiffness but the pain was now gone. However, his nose ached. A cunt you were. 

From what he had heard you had left for the Riverlands two days ago with Helaena in search of an herb. He had also heard that you have been whoring yourself out, maids apparently seeing love marks on your chest and your late outings, but who was he to judge? 

Daemon Targaryen. That’s who he was, so he would judge you. He would judge your unusual way of speaking, your lack of manners (had you been a Valyrian woman perhaps he would have overlooked it), and your radical ideas. Everything about you grated him, quite the stroke of luck you must have to be favored by the Queen and his brother. He would’ve had your head by now if it had been anyone else. 

“You should see Jacaerys and Lucerys home.” Daemon looked up from his hand towards Rhaenyra who had a surprised expression apparently not expecting him to agree. “That girl is a minx. Not only does she have the Queen and King’s support, but Aegon and Helaena take a liking to her as well. Jacaerys already seems interested despite being engaged to Baela. I will not have my daughter being left for a slut that can be found on the street of silk.” It would be an embarrassment to him, his family, his heritage. A woman of non-valyrian descent takes the husband from his daughter who is not only fully Valyrian but a dragon rider no less.

“Jacaerys will not father any bastards with that girl much less leave Baela for her.” Rhaenrya held Daemon’s hand. “When I am Queen, I will send her far from here.”

“I’d like to have her executed. Have you yet to see how long Jacaerys spends on Dragon Back during the late hours? That girl has shown him something and now he spends his night searching for them. The boy searches for artists, those who paint portraits, why do you think that is?” Daemon tears his hand away from Rhaenrya. 

“She has healed my father Daemon. What Maesters could not do for over twenty years she has done in a fortnight. If my first action as Queen was to execute her the whole council would call me cruel.” Rhaenrya does not doubt that you have been worming your way into her family, but as it stands she does not have a valid reason to behead you.

“She is despised by the citadel and shows to have no regard for the seven. That girl has plenty of enemies around her, should you behead her, the Old Town will be more favorable to you.” Allies for Rhaenrya’s rule were needed. The first female monarch would need to appeal to everyone. 

“You hate the seven and the citadel. You care little for them, why would we try to please them?” Rhaenrya raised a brow towards her husband. 

“Frame this right and the small folk will despise her. You will be Queen, the first Queen of Westeros.” Daemon looked up towards Rhaenyra as she stood with her hands on her swollen stomach.

“She will likely earn a pardon from Alicent. A sum will be paid to her and the girl will leave back to wherever it is she came from. I will not behead the woman who has saved my father. Once her usefulness is no longer needed then as you said, the Citadel and the High Septons will call for her banishment.” Daemon looks at his wife as she sits down rubbing her belly. You need to go. Now. 

You were quite cumbersome. His brother refused to hear any criticisms of you and with Alicent in his ear, you were untouchable. You had clearly allied yourself with the greens and here in King’s Landing other than a few loyal gold cloaks, Daemon had no one to track you properly. Much to his displeasure Rhaenrya had kept him on Dragon Stone when they married. 

It was a sore spot for him. He left his niece with the impression that she would be able to handle herself and keep the Greens in control. Clearly not. He had no idea how to keep you in check; you did not fear him as much as you once did. That night that he had you running away from him, those days were far behind you. He could only assume that you were wrapping up any princes and princesses you could get your hands on to keep you safe. You had nothing to your name other than the protection of the Greens and now regrettably the future heir to the Iron Throne. 

Your cards were being well played and Daemon felt as if he was the only one truly playing against you. The only one who could see the wolf in sheep's clothing. The only one who saw your scheming and your seduction. The only thing he couldn’t see from you was your end goal. The Iron Throne? To conquer? Conquer what? All of Westeros? You had no dragon and no Valyrian blood as was visible. Mayhaps a spy from strange lands to bring down the Targaryen dynasty. Why? Some free cities weren’t fond of the Valyrians.

Daemon pressed the secret door and walked through the hidden halls of Maegor’s holdfast. As he fastened his cloak around him he heard steps echoing. He paused and listened. More likely than not a rat trapper. He waited and a figure passed him and an unmistakable scent. A conniving little girl you were. When and how did you discover these halls?

His hand itched for his ancestral sword; Dark sister. 

Fuck.

 He had left it in the room, if he were to go back for it he would lose you. Would he get another chance to rid himself of you once and for all? He clenched his jaw and followed you without any weapons. He followed you through the halls. You took twists and turns. Did you know where you were going? Did you know he was following you? Why weren’t you running then? Finally, you stopped and he stopped as well. He saw you press your hand to the wall. There was no door there. You didn’t know where you were going.

He grinned and crept behind you. He heard you give a small gasp and before you could run away he grabbed the hood of your cloak and some of your hair. It would be a while before anyone would find your body. A rip sounded and you were running away from him. He chased after you. You turned the corner. He ran faster but as he turned the corner he felt pain shoot through his face. He groaned but went to punch you, however, you seemed to duct or he misdirected the punch in the dark, he didn’t know, all he knew is that shoved into a nearby wall and suddenly your scent invaded his now bleeding nose as he watched you run back the way you came.

Swallowing the pain he grunted and stood up running after you. Much to Daemon’s displeasure you did eventually find a door and ran out. He chased after you but lost you as you jumped down the stairs and just before you disappeared into the streets of King’s Landing you seemed to turn around. You both stood there, Daemon from the top of the stairs holding his nose and you with all the people and streets of King’s Landing behind you. 

You flipped him off. 

He grunted in frustration as he watched you walk and disappear in the masses of King’s Landing. That was the second time you had caught him by surprise. 

A couple of days later he learned that you had been dealing with madams of whore house in the Street of Silk.

…

The moment you felt the humid air hit you your smile immediately evaporated. The humidity was your worst enemy. It wasn’t long before a castle came into view. It was built upon what looked like a swamp.

“Where are we?” You asked Helaena. 

“Riverrun. The ancestral castle of House Tully. The current lord is Grover Tully.” You hummed as Dreamfyre went to land, though as she roared it startled you causing you to lose your grip on Helaena and nearly slip off. You screamed as you managed to grab onto a rope on the saddle. Helaena gasped and attempted to grab you and in her haste steered Dreamfyre into a sharp left turn. 

You scream again as you help the rope tight. You didn’t dare look down. “Just land her!” You yelled and Dreamfyre dove and you screamed. Maybe a dragon wasn’t such a good idea. 

The sudden change as Dreamfyre gilded whipped you and the rope snapped. You screamed as you were launched into the swamp. You sank into the murky waters and your survival instincts kicked in. You desperately swam upwards, or what you thought was upwards. You were sent into the water spiraling. You were running out of air. As you swam upwards you gave a groan fighting the urge to not scream. A Charley horse now plagued you.

Great. 

Trying to calm yourself down you swam up mermaid style trying to preserve your energy. You took in a large breath as you broke through the water. You aligned yourself into a backstroke position letting your cramping calf float as you swam backwards towards land hearing Helaena shout your name. Dreamfyre had launched you pretty far and now much to your embarrassment people were watching you from the castle as you swam back to shore. 

Finally when you could stand you grimaced as you did your best to get out of the murky water. What if there were crocodiles or worse!? Clearly, things that didn’t exist in your world existed here. Who knows what was in the waters? You made a sound of desperation as you limped out of the water and fell on the grass.

As you rested on the grass you heard buzzing in your head. Great. Of course, swamps and mosquitoes went hand in hand. You swatted it away as you stood up and limped towards Helaena. 

“Are you hurt?” She asked, looking down at you worriedly. 

“Just a cramp.” You paused as an intrusive thought entered your mind. Good lord. What if you caught Malaria!? Your face contorted into one of disgust against your will and suddenly goosebumps covered your arms and your hair stood on end. Under no circumstances could you get bit by mosquitoes or anything here! 

A male voice called out to both you and Helaena. You turned and greeted the…well actually he looked to be around your age, he had a young face. 

“My Lord.” Both you and Helaena greeted each other. The boy or was it a man(?), looking at you with a concerned expression. 

“My lady you appear to have taken quite a fall,” he commented, and although you were completely soaked the back of your neck and face felt hot. 

“Yes, I took a fall…” You trailed off unsure what to say. The faster you leave the place the better. At all costs, you must avoid sickness. The lord invited you inside as Dreamfyre took off. You eyed the dragon from the corner of your eye. Good riddance! The dragon didn’t like you but went a step further and embarrassed you! Madness!

As you limped, Helaena called your name out worriedly as she went to your side. You held your hand out as you gritted your teeth trying to not make any sounds as you went forward. 

“My Lady! You are hurt.” The young lord went to your side. 

“Yes, I swam up too fast. Diver’s cramp. It’s sore, nothing to worry about. It should be better by the morrow” You purse your lips as you hear yourself. ‘By the morrow?’ You had spent entirely too much time here. You were now speaking as they were. You didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Shall I have a knight carry you inside?” Lord Tully offered. You thought for a moment. Well, it would be nice. Lord Tully took your silence as a yes and suddenly you were swept off your feet. 

You hissed as you grabbed onto the knight. “My leg, ser! Please!” 

“Apologies my lady.” The knight was quick to readjust his hand. All you could do was stare at the knight and give a simple smile as his hand was now a little bit higher than what was proper, even by your standards.

Fortunately, you, the young lord, had the insight to send for a bath prepared for you. As the knight carried you up the stairs you were especially grateful. Walking after a fresh cramp was always the worst. Finally reaching your room you smiled giving a friendly tap. “You are a very strong user.” You nodded as he thanked you before leaving.

Much to your displeasure inside the castle it was still very much humid. What you wouldn’t give for your fan right now. This was so much worse than King’s Landing. As you peeled yourself out of the wet dress you limped towards the bath in your room. You sank into the warm water. Honestly cold would’ve been better, but this was fine. 

You scrubbed yourself and waited for your things to be offloaded from Dreamfyre. Find what you came for and go back to King’s Landing. Tomorrow you’d have to go out and you’d be fully covered too, unfortunately.

“My lady, Lord Tully, has asked if there is anything he can offer.” The maid entered your chambers placing your belongings on the side of your bed. 

“Do you have alcohol?” You turned to face the maid. Bug spray had alcohol, no? Your mother used cinnamon to keep away pests such as fruit flies from fruit. Is cinnamon exported from ‘Essos?’ Is cinnamon a thing?

“Alcohol?” The maid asked, tilting her head. 

“Ale, beer, wine. Preferable ale or beer.” You clarified. “Along with that, do you have cinnamon?”

“Of course, I will send for Ale and I’m unsure. We have not imported any goods from Essos. I will ask the kitchen. Anything else?” You shook your head and dismissed her as you began scrubbing yourself. If you didn’t find what you came for there would be a serious issue. At this point, you might need this just as much as the King. 

‘Oh shit!’ You landed on the hard floor and pain shot up your legs as your feet tingled. You groaned as you stood up and looked behind you. Of course, it was Daemon. You stood there trying to ease the pain in your feet. They didn’t exactly have great shoes in this era and the best you had was some sandals and that wouldn’t be any help. If only a second suitcase had washed up with you as well. Where was that second suitcase anyway or the rest of them? Not only did you have your clothes but some sneakers as well. 

On top of that, your hand ached. You weren’t particularly skilled in punching people. You were running out of tricks to sucker punch this man. He wouldn’t just give up! You raised your hand flipping him off before running off. 

‘Sucker.’

It wasn’t long before you reached your destination. You dug into the pockets of your sweater and pulled a piece of paper and of course your prototypes. That night when you returned from your first-ever dragon ride. You had seen a run-down shop that looked like it was going to go out of business. 

Beggars can’t be choosers and this time, you were no beggar.

You knocked on the door and a rancid-smelling man answered. You gave a mute smile trying to breathe too much.

“M’lady this is a late hour.” The man spoke and once more you fought to make a face. 

“Imma busy woman. This is the only time I have.” You looked inside where his family rested—a poor living space. You purse your lips. “Well? It’s rude to not invite someone in.” 

His wife came quickly behind him. She smiled and immediately you were able to see her poor dental hygiene, but there were slight and subtle changes since the last time you saw her.  “M’lady it is quite the mess inside, but please do come.”

You stepped in and luckily it was only messy, not nasty. “Nonsense. It is homely. The unique quirks and the evidence of family is what makes a house a home.” 

‘Smooth.’ You smiled to yourself. The woman was quick to offer you a chair and you gladly took a seat. You pulled out a paper. A little contact of your making. “I can see you have been using my product?” You smile showing off your pretty teeth. “Your teeth are looking better already.” You hammered it in. You needed this deal to go well. It could spell out riches for you.

“Yes! I have gotten so many compliments on my teeth recently, M'lady. This combined with the mint we already chew, I reckon I’ll have teeth as good as you.” The woman beamed and you grinned. 

“That's the idea. I have better teeth than the King himself.” You leaned over the table covering the side of your mouth. “And between us, some would say even better than the Queen herself.” You grinned once more making sure your pearly whites were on full display. “You have a daughter, yes? Start her young and make sure when her teeth are loose, have her pull them out. Don’t let them layer your teeth like a shark. Follow this and she’ll have better teeth than me and of course, a smile is everything. It can make or break someone. Good teeth are the mark of beauty. A man could be missing an eyebrow but the first thing you will notice is a smile. A smile that could win many high suitors.”

Hook.

The man and woman turned to each other with a look you knew anywhere. “You flatter us m’lady, but our daughter would never wed a lord. We’d have no dowry or lands to give.”

Line.

“With this contract, I assure you, a dowry won’t be a problem.” Once more that look appeared in their eyes. The look of ambition. 

And sinker.

“What do you offer m’lady?” The man asked and you grinned. 

This deal was as good as closed. You slid the contract over with a jar of ink and a pen or a feather. “I’ll go over the details, I wouldn't want to blindside you.” You spend the next hour explaining the details of the contract. It was a five-year contract and if both parties were satisfied then the contract would be extended.  

“Well folks gotta make their livin’ normally I’d give a seventy-thirty, but I like y’all. I give it to you for sixty-five-thirty-five. I get sixty-five percent of all profits and you keep thirty-five percent. Sounds good?” You handed over the pen and then looked at it confused. You purse your lips. What's wrong? You were sure you sold it. Answered all their questions, kept the numbers high, and sweet-talked them. That's how you close a deal. Shame them if they don’t think it’s a good offer. 

“We can’t write.” The woman mumbled out. 

‘Shit.’ Did they even know how to do math right? It all depended on their competence. 

‘Note to self, don’t rely on others for a job well done.’ 

“You can’t do math?” You raised a brow.

“Course we do m’lady. We have a shop, we just never learned to read or write.” You smiled. Good, all that matters is counting coins. 

“Alright, we'll have thumbprints, just like this.” You coated your thumb in the black ink and pressed it on your side of the contract. They both followed. 

“When will we start selling these…what do we call them?” The man asked after wiping his thumb on a cloth. “And how much do we sell them for?” The wife asked her husband. 

“Call them…” A brand name was everything. Miswak wasn’t marketable. Maybe you’d steal names from Crest or Colgate. “This brand will be called…‘Sapwood Smiles’ and calls the brush by brush and of course, the charcoal…call it whiting crest. Your slogan could be ‘Timeless Oral Care for Modern Living’ or maybe ‘Your Natural Smile Solution’ or something catchy.” 

“What is ‘oral?’” The man asked as you took back the paper, rolling it up in your hand.

“Oral means mouth in short terms. Oral health is what makes your mouth healthy. Oh, maybe you can do ‘Oral Care Reimagined, Naturally.’ Natural remedies always appeal to a certain demographic.” You stood up and prepared to leave. After all, you had one more stop to get to. “The shipments will arrive in a week or two. I will personally deliver myself. You will sell the biobrush for one copper star and one groat. The whitening crest or just crest will be sold for two copper Groats and one halfgroat. However, should they purchase two it will be the price for two copper stars. Give them a deal. Save them money. After all, I sympathize with the commons, I myself came from humble beginnings. I know what it is to live at the bottom.” And you also knew that you needed to play just a little dirty to get ahead. 

With that, you nodded and bid them goodbye and once more pulled your cloak in over your head. One last meeting in the Street of Silk. You would bet that this idea would be the real money maker. At least the fastest way you could start making money now. You were sure this would catch fast within the brothels.

…

“I’m afraid of the rats,” Helaena murmured as you braid small braids in her hair. You both had been talking all morning about anything and everything. Such a barbaric world this girl lived in. 

“The rats?” You question. Aegon had told you about his sister-wife's strange sayings. 

“No one listens. The rats will come bearing a hollow savior.” Helaena continued and you furrowed your brows. Helaena turns to you with a sad smile. “A dawn of gilded skies, a great age shall rise. A betrayal…” She trailed off looking deep into your eyes. Her lilac eyes seemed to drown you. You felt a sharp pain on the sides of your jaw travel to your tear ducts and your waterline began to fill with tears. It’s like she wasn’t even there. As if she weren’t speaking to you. “A betrayal’s kiss shall usher in the forlorn.”

You drowned within her gaze. A deep pain bloomed in your chest as if you were struggling to breathe. As if you were drowning in waters that brought you here. You couldn’t understand why it hurt. It hurt so much and you felt her cold hands on her cheek. 

“If you will deliver us.” Was her final whisper before she stood up leaving you in the room. Tears streamed down your eyes. Only when she left the room did you feel your breath return to you. You bent, gasping as tears fell onto the carpet. What was she talking about? 

It took you quite a while before you were finally able to get your heartbeat under control and your breathing steady. You shook your head before you limped over to the cinnamon brought to you. Deciding it would be best to distract yourself from whatever that was you began melting shavings of soap. Once it has melted you pour it into the warm water that was bought for you. Then you splashed some ale into the cinnamon water mixture. Once that was settled you let it sit while you stretched your calf lightly. 

Wouldn’t want another cramp. 

Aegon was right. His was creepy because what in tarnation was that!? Most importantly, why did you cry? You couldn’t understand what you were seeing but in that moment it felt like you were drowning or something heavy was sitting atop your chest. Thinking back, you swore you heard pleas and what was this whole thing about ‘If you will deliver us?’ You were NOT a godsent nor a prophet. That misunderstanding nearly got you killed on your first day by Daemon. That was the last thing you wanted to be. Too much responsibility entirely. Not to mention you weren’t one for religion. What god exactly would you be receiving prophecies from? The smith? You scoffed out a laugh at the thought.

Religion here wasn’t something you had paid much attention to. The Great Sept of Baelor seems to be like their cathedrals. Perhaps one of these days you should pay a visit to them, see if their artwork compares to that of catholicism, or if there are any similarities with any other religions. 

The Seven represented by a seven-pointed star reminded you of paganism. No doubt the seven would be villainized like the pagans were. Throw in the excuse of the star looking too much like the star of the pagans and of course, there are the ‘seven deadly sins’ otherwise known as the carnal sins. The Seven were called ‘new gods’ and there were also those called the ‘old gods.’ To your understanding, they were the faith established here by the First Men…or was it Rhoynar or maybe the Andals? No, the Andals brought the faith of Seven, right? Then who is Rhoynar? 

What other faiths were there here? In your world, many faiths exist, including Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, and Judaism just to name a few. From what you can recall the Eastern part of the hemisphere is much more diverse in terms of religion. In the Western part i.e. the Americas, Christianity dominates with its subsections through the continents. Of course, there is Catholicism that dominates both Central and South America, then there is North America with Mormonism, Orthodoxy, and Protestantism. The Eastern part which contains Asia, Africa, Europe, and Oceania, to your knowledge was more diverse. Thought Europe was largely held by Christianity, Italy housed the smallest country in the world inside of Rome; Vatican City was home to the Catholic religion, then the UK held the Church of England, but a majority of Irish are Catholic, then you have Asia which holds many religions but the most prominent are Islam and Buddhism no? Was it Hinduism? 

Either way, you wonder if Essos would be the same. Hosting many different types of religion as opposed to just two. The short amount of time you’ve spent here in the Riverlands you’ve learned that beliefs are separated by region. The North goes by the ‘old ways’ while the South abides by the ‘new gods.’ You’d like to go North one day. You much preferred the cold to the hot and humid South. However, Dragon Stone was nice. A constant breeze was always nice. 

You stood up and limped over to your bowl. You’d have to leave it to sit for another hour or two. That was fine, you couldn’t go out today to find what you needed anyway. Your calf was still pretty sore and you didn’t want to force it. Besides you needed a way to test your little concoction to see if it would work and for that, you need to catch some mosquitoes. Annoying little things. 

Dressing yourself you walk out of your room with a slight limp and a glass jar in your hands. You greeted the Lord Oscar Tully who assigned you a guard as you walked out. You made sure you were covered, even if it meant you’d sweat like crazy in this humid heat. It was fine however, it meant it would attract more pests. You walked out with the knight trailing behind you. You went to sit in a nearby log near still water. That's where mosquito eggs were laid and consequently where you could find the blood-sucking mosquitoes. 

Before you sat down you kicked the log making sure there was nothing in it. After kicking it a few more times and nothing came out you sat down. Slowly you lifted the sleeve of your dress and waited. It was humid and you were sweating quite a bit. It wasn’t long before I heard buzzing. Your head twitched as a response but you sat and waited. 

“My Lady?” The guard questioned. 

“I’m collecting mosquitoes for an experiment. I do hate these things, if all goes well, trust me, you’ll love me. These things can spread diseases, you know? I’d rather not catch any when I go out tomorrow, that means not being bit by these little bloodsuckers.” You explained that the mosquitos landed and you swept them up putting them in the jar.

You could feel the judgment radiating off the man. Oh well. You could make a fortune out of this. You needed the money and of course, there wouldn’t be any generated until next week. You had to pick up the shipment of miswak from the ships and had to grate charcoal. Once you had the money you’d generate jobs as well. Now that King Viserys was going back into politics before you’d make Rhaenyra queen you had to stabilize yourself first. The King seemed to like you a lot better than his younger brother and his daughter did. 

Of course, once the ‘truth’ about Rhaenrya’s children was out your protection from anyone would fly out the window due to you being of no use to Alicent and Otto. Speaking of Alicent ever since those rumors about you spread well she hasn’t been as inviting as she once was. Your time was running out and if you didn’t play your cards right, the rope would be cut and the guillotine blade would fall on your neck. 

King Viserys was your best option to solidify yourself. You need to make yourself invaluable and of course, do a little PR. If your head would be cut off, then you would need riots in the streets. That started with giving the people basic human necessities which was easy enough. They lived like trash. 

As you continued to catch mosquitos you racked your brain. A swear system would be nice. Certainly would be great for your nose. How you hated the smell of King’s Landing. You could smell the shit from five miles away. Not to mention it would get rid of that awful chamber pot. You hated using that thing. It was times like that made you miss the modern world.

Actually, everything makes you miss the modern world. It was torture living here. What you wouldn’t give for a nice hot shower, bug spray, air freshener, cars, trains, electricity, AC, the internet, or really anything from your time. How did the water system work? How did the plumbing system work? Speaking of which, you needed to develop a better water filter, which was easy enough. You already had a concept in your mind. 

You looked into the jar and decided that was enough. Capping it you stood up and walked back. 

“What are you going to do with them, my lady?” The guard asked as you both walked back towards the castle. 

“Test a bug-repellent spray.” You said you were uninterested as ideas ran in your head of how to solidify your position before you installed Rhaenyra as queen.

“How would that work?” He asked in a small mumble as if embarrassed to be asking. A smile bloomed on your face. How you loved explaining things. 

“Hurry on inside and I’ll show you!” You grinned at the man as you both began walking inside with haste. 

Once you both were inside you sat down on the nearest chair and sat down the jar. You then sent a maid to fetch your bowl of cinnamon water. 

“Okay, I want you to watch.” You put your hand over the jar holding it there. “Mosquitoes use three ways to locate prey. Mosquitoes, the females in particular, have a great sense of smell and that’s because only they suck blood. That is how they produce eggs, males on the other hand only feed off fruit because their needle-like proboscis isn’t strong or sharp enough to pierce human skin like the female is.” You grin up at the man and the other who had come along.

“Pretty interesting isn’t it? When they are near you they can smell the sweat or more specifically certain compounds within your sweat that you emit which draws them in. Next is the carbon dioxide you exhale.” You looked up and gave a big inhale. “We inhale oxygen.” Then you exhaled. “And exhale carbon dioxide.” You smiled up towards the guards who gave a nod simply agreeing with what you said. “Finally, what I think is most cool and what you’re going to see right now, is that they can sense body heat. Look.” You took your hand away and where your hand was resting were mosquitoes.

The guards let out a sound of amusement looking at the jar and seeing how the mosquitoes lined the imprint of your hand. “Because of the strong sense of smell, one can exploit that, and theoretically, make it a weakness. See if I opened this jar and placed my hand above the assumption that they would feast on my palm, but…” The maid returned with your bowl and you wet the palm of your hand. Then you twist open the lid placing your soaked hand. “With this, it produced a strong smell that in turn disoriented them thus repelling them.” You placed your hand and just as you predicted they did not get near you much less try to feast. 

More sounds of amusement sounded throughout the hall. Quiet the crowd you had, including the Lord Oscar Tully and Helaena who had curious eyes yet laced with something else. You looked away from her. “Now to show they would take the opportunity to eat I’m going to let them try to eat on my other palm which is not coated with my formula.” You capped the jaw and let the mosquitoes reorient themselves before you offered your other palm and they saw as they went to feed on you. Before they bit you took your hand away. No chances were going to be taken.

“What is this ‘formula?’” The Lord asked and you turned to him. You had two choices. One: You could sell the formula and make a quick buck or two: You could do some charity. A good image here would be good. The Riverlands are in the middle of everything. The word would spread. You needed a good reputation, only now did you realize you needed one everywhere, not just in King’s Landing. 

You smiled as you announced the name of your formula. Of course, you named it after yourself. You will be known throughout all the lands of Westeros.

…

“No more freaky tellings, yes?” You asked Helaena cautiously as you rubbed your formula all over your legs and arms. While Helaena did look a bit dejected she nodded as she too rubbed your formula over herself. “Okay then, let’s find that plant!”

“Five shadows shall creep across the age of light…seeds of-.” You heard Helaena mumble as you both walked into the forest. A sudden weight on your chest began to press down.

“Helaena!” You called her and she looked at you with innocent eyes. “Stop. Listen.” You stopped and a serious facial expression overtook your face. “I don't know what you’re saying and it’s not that I don’t want to listen, but it makes me…deeply uncomfortable and brings up memories I’d rather not remember. Please, stop it.” 

You watched Helaena blink and nod before turning away. Great. Now you feel bad, but it had to be done. You walked cautiously about the surrounding green. This was taking forever and you just wanted to go back to King’s Landing where it wasn’t as humid and your fan was constantly on. 

“What are you looking for, my lady?” The same guard from two days ago asked. Both you and Helaena had taken a guard whilst you went to search for your plant, though after you had told her to stop Helaena had left elsewhere. Hopefully not too far. The last thing you needed was a lost princess. 

You continued to walk forward looking around. “It is a bushy annual plant, ranging from 1 to 6 feet tall, depending on the variety and growing conditions. It has a central stalk from which multiple branches emerge, creating a symmetrical shape.” You moved a branch out of the way avoiding the vines. “Its leaves have serrated edges and are deeply lobed, usually with 5 to 9 narrow, pointed leaflets radiating from a central point. The color ranges from light to deep green, occasionally with purple or reddish hues under certain conditions.”

A breeze hit you and you picked up a familiar scent. You smiled as you went forward trying to catch the smell again. “The leaf and stem itself are often sticky. Then of course there are the flowers it has. The flower produces clusters of small, dense flowers in the female plants.” You spoke and a light green color caught your eye. 

“Plants can be male or female?” The guard asked, confused, chasing after you. 

“Not exactly. Plants can have male and female genitalia. Some can even change their gender and can self-pollinate creating exact copies of themselves, while others rely on pollinators such as bees or hummingbirds just to name some.” You saw Helaena playing with a spider that was entirely too big for your comfort. You grimaced watching the spider crawl on her hand. “Come on Helaena, it could bite you.” 

You saw her look up and nod before releasing the spider.

Ew. 

You smiled and dragged her along. If you found this plant, it would be gold. “Pollinators?” You heard the guard murmur as you felt another breeze and once more there was that scent. You were grinning from ear to ear barely suppressing your smile.

You broke through a treeline and there it was.

“What is that?” Helaena asked. 

You walked to the tall plant taking a bud and inhaling that unmistakable scent. 

“Yerba Buena.”

Note: And the plot finally begins. Pls talk to me! Let me know your thoughts! Also I can confirm that hiding behind a wall then surprise attacking them with a punch does work! But it hurts if you don't know how to punch right.

Previous I Next I Masterlist

To be added to Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

[solkara]

❛ 𝐕𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 , rhaenyra targaryen ❜

⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , you since you were young you would be a sailor just like your father you loved the water but the only thing that you loved more than the sea was your family

⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , rhaenyra targaryen x fem! velaryon! sailor! reader

⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , okayyyyy so this is def the last part for this little headcannon lol hope you guys have enjoyed it !!

previous part , house of the dragon masterlist

⌗ if you could stay away from rhaenyra and daemon for the rest of your life you would. but unfortunately that was not possible unless you were willing to give up your relationship with laena's children. which you were unwilling to do as they were the last pieces of her that you had left.

⌗ so here you were docking on the shaws of dragonstone. something you swore you would never do. but after baela and rhaena's piles of letters to you while you were at sea begging you to vist them. you finally caved.

⌗ now here you in the embrace of your two nieces. and for a slight moment it felt as if it was just the three of you. until someone cleared their throat. breaking up your intimate moment. you look up to see rhaenyra daemon and their children. walking forward you greet the two adults with gritted teeth. before turning your attention to jace luke and joffery.

⌗ though it was clear the children were not her deceased brothers. but you did not see the point in punishing innocent children for something that is not their fault. so you would try your best to put side your hate for their mother and be the best aunt you could to them. "I've bought them gifts" you said. gesturing to your crew members who were unloading heavy looking trunks. "for all of us?" jace asked surprised as he was not expecting to get anything. to which you nodded with a smile "a trunk for each of you though I will admit I wasn't to sure what either of you were interested in so I just collected trinkets from my travel"

⌗ "thank you" the voice of rhaenyra drew your eye's away from the dark haired boy momentarily. to which you could only curtly nod in response. before you were dragged off into the castle by your two eager nieces. and for the days that followed you spent most of your time with baela rhaena jace and luke. as you shared stories with them about your adventures on the high sea's and trained and gossiped together. and the rare few moments that you were in the same room as either rhaenyra or daemon. you either ignored them or converse the bare minimum.

⌗ which infuriated rhaenyra to no end. as she wanted nothing more than to spend time with you and explain herself. she wanted you to know that she loved you. that she wanted you more than anything. and that she didn't kill your brother. and she was ashamed to admit that she found herself feeling jealous of her children. and how they had forged such a strong bound with you. while she had been trying for years and failed every time.

⌗ now daemon knew that rhaenyra was in love with you. and he had no problem with it. as he knew deep down inside rhaenyra would never love him the way she loved you. and he was okay with that. their marriage wasn't one of love. it was one of connivence to protect them from the snakes that lurked. and the two had agreed that once they had smoothed everything over they would convince you to marry them. so you could be rhaenyra's. and the three of you could rule the kingdom together. like the conquerors reborn.

⌗ and this plan all came to ahead one night. as you sat awake late at night. looking out across dragonstone from on top of the highest tower in the castle. when you heard two pair's of footsteps approach you from behind. "please don't punch me" daemon said from behind you. you didn't even brother to look at him.

⌗ "if you know how this will play out why are the two of you bothering" you asked with a long sigh. genuinely curious as to why they were putting in so much effort just for you to change your perception of them. "because I love you" silence. finally turning to face the pair you looked at the princess face. eyes filled with tears ready to spill and skin shining in the moonlight. you couldn't deny she looked beautiful.

⌗ "do you hear me I said it's because I love you!" rhaenyra repeated stepping closer to you. "I heard you the first time but tell me why would I love the woman who had my brother dead" and with that you tried to leave but she caught your hand. "he's not dead laenor he's in essos I helped him faked his death so he could live the life he wanted" silence once more. "how do I know you are not lying" you ask your voice nothing more than a whisper. "look me in the eyes and you will see I am telling the truth" and so you did. and you saw not a hint of deception in her eyes. only love.

⌗ "why didn't you tell me" you said eyes welling with tears. "we tried to but you wouldn't listen" daemon butted in. and you could practically hear the eye rolls. "and you love me?" you asked looking at the targayen princess who had now interlocked her fingers with yours. "for as long as I can remember" she said with a smile. "what what about you and..." you questioned looking between the two white haired royals.

⌗ "a marriage of connivence" daemon stated plainly. and with that you couldn't help but look at the woman in front of you in a different light. she helped your brother escape to the life he had always dreamed of. "thank you" and with that you drew her into a kiss. and it was as if the world around you had stopped. breaking apart for air the two of you couldn't help but lean against each others foreheads of support. as if you leg's were going to give out any minute.

⌗ "now I know this may be a bit quick but...will you marry me. marry us so we can be the conquerors reborn" the princess ask was more like a whisper as if she was scared to hear your response. as you looked at her with lust fogged eyes. "all you had to do was ask princess" and with that the two of you practically ran to her chamber with daemon in tow. as the two of you enjoyed you night together. and daemon well. he mostly watched.

⌗ and by early morning preparation were already being made for you to be wed to the two. much to the joy of the children. would jumped to embrace you when they heard the news. and later in the afternoon you were officially wed to daemon and rhaenyra targaryen in the traditions of old valyria.

⌗ as the years passed your relationship only blossomed. as your love for rhaenyra seemed to only grow by the day. the two of you spending countless night together. and with daemon. and while you did cut down on your adventures at see your wife was more than willing to let you go out and explore. as long as you came home to them. to your family.

⌗ and on the day of her coronation you and daemon were with her every step of the way. as she was declared queen. and you and daemon king and queen consort. life was perfect and you couldn't be happier. as you had found the perfect blend of water and fire.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Baby Fever!

HEADCANON

PAIRING: Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,046. 

SUMMARY: Baby fever strikes King’s Landing once more, although this time, its next victim is Aegon ii Targaryen, himself... And he blames/thanks you entirely. 

WARNINGS: breeding kink to the max, lactation kink, DILF!Aegon, swearing, NSFW, mentions of male masturbation, mentions of p in v sex, mentions of dark!Aegon, swearing, degradation kink. 

A/N - it’s coming to 3am for me, and I literally just wrote this fic about Aegon with baby fever. nothing more or nothing less, but it’s everything <3 thanks to @bibli0thecary ‘s ask, I cannot get this DILF out of my mind, so consider this a request fulfilled!!!  

let me give this man all their heirs in the world, please. ps I’m sorry, I just found the gif so relative here. please Sir, teach me SEX ED. 

Aegon has breeding kink written all over him: when he meets his significant other, that’s enough to set it off. 

He was never that warm to the idea of having his own offspring, and yet, the possibility stirred in the pit of his stomach and top of his twitching cock when seeing you. 

If anything, he approaches it more as a feral need to claim you, to have some sort of possession over you, rather than actually fulfil the obligation/responsibility of having a family, nor wanting one of his own free will. 

He was actually quite reluctant to the idea of fatherhood, considering his own experience with Viserys was one he had grown to detest, turning him off from the entire concept. 

That was until he stumbled across you playing around with his toddler nephew, Joffery and a few other younger, highborn children of the royal court. Often the older women, busy in gossip and wine, would leave their children from the younger women to babysit: often reasoned with the logic that it ought to prepare the maidens of the court to motherhood. 

Seeing how maternal you seemed, watching you intently from a distant, the children seemed to favour you, playfully engaging with you, the innocent sight warmed Aegon’s heart

A dull throb pulsating in his hard cock. 

If it was heirs his Council wanted, heirs he would provide only if you would be the one to birth them. 

Soon enough, he found himself mindlessly masturbating to the thought of you swollen with his babes, your tits tender and plump with the milk,  naturally made in preparation in the months coming, dripping from your sensitive nipple, practically overflowing. 

Seeing the milk unnaturally leak, as you beg for him to latch and suck, desperate to relieve the heaviness and tension in your breast. He was certain he would suck you dry, before the babe is even born.  

And the idea of fucking you some more, even whilst evidently pregnant, knowing that despite being full of him already, he could still pump his seed inside, plugging you up completely, as his seed spills out, you just helplessly groaning and moaning for relief. 

The scene replaying in his mind, he often overcame with excitement, furious at himself for wasting is potential seed, that he could’ve wilfully secreted in you instead. 

Dark!Aegon would no doubt, force himself onto you, using his political/social position in the realm as an advantage, you either agree and “allow” him to fuck you until you grow and swell great with his child, or you refuse and he confines you to his chambers himself, or more so his bed, thrusting his girthy, throbbing cock inside, stretching you out until he sees his bulge deeply buried peaking atop, pumping his load inside, until he feels completely drained and you teeming. 

Although (fanon) Aegon, would lure you, growing impatient by the second however, he often becomes abrupt, wishing to hasten you into the act of consummating. Now that the betrothal is settled and finalised, you feel no need to wait, you figure he is to be your husband soon enough regardless. 

“I’m going to fuck you full, filled to the brim of my seed, until I feel my son or daughter kicking from within.”

“The idea of your belly swollen and heavy, back just aching from carrying my babes all day long, begging me to carry you, like a lazy whore.” 

“And fuck these tits will grow abundantly with your sweet, motherly milk. Nourishing my babes, like the good Mumma that you are. Perhaps, I ought to treat myself to your treacly taste, I do deserve it. I am the one responsible for doing this to you, you will do well to remember that, wife.”

“I need you to fuck a babe into me, Aeg. Make me a Mumma, I’ll have as many bubs as you want, just like that.”

“Perhaps enough babes to repopulate Old Valyria, restore it with our bloodline.”

“You’ll be the prettiest, most stunning Mumma I ever did see, and it’s all my undoing... Look at you all needy for my cock, desperate for me to spill my cum inside of you, such a fucking whore for me.”

He’d be so touchy and feely with your changing body: a hand constantly on your bump, feeling the babe beneath move against their father’s familiar touch. 

Even his voice would earn some haste movement or kicking, always earning a heartfelt smile from him.

He’d always be embracing your body, a hand snaked around your soft, wide waist/hips, even groping your ass. 

He thrives having you sit on his lap throughout your pregnancy,  squirming to get comfortable, grinding against him, you can feel a dense, aching bulge beneath your ass cheeks. Initially, you advise against it “Aeg, I’m heavy now, you won’t like it.” “Try me baby, just sit.”

Aegon would be against anyone trying to touch your belly, besides the maester and his mother: “everyone else can fuck off, there is no need for them to touch you at all.”

He is greatly entertained by the sight of seeing you waddle around the castle, knowing it was his undoing, a hand instinctively cradling your belly, almost as if you’re in a protective mother mode. 

The idea that you’ve outgrown your maiden gowns, because of his babe growing healthily inside, it pleases him.

At first you feel self-conscious of your pregnant / post-partum body, yet Aegon is swift to squash your doubts: “if anything Y/N, you look the sexiest pregnant, fuck it makes me feral, baby.” 

Nonetheless, Aegon’s dream much like his predecessor to conquer, became a reality. 

Soon enough, you’d given birth to multiple, healthy children, all close in age, for Aegon struggled to contain himself. Having to remind himself upon each birth, you required some time for recovery. As soon as the maesters deemed fit, he would be on you. 

Eventually, he grew familiar to the role of fatherhood, and became more and more comfortable with each new addition. 

He loved his children equally, tougher on the boys although, he has a softer spot for his little daughters, spoiling them endlessly. 

In return, the children love you both dearly, thankful for you to be their mother, and Aegon their beloved father. 

general taglist - @evenstaris​ @chompchompluke​ @fan-goddess​ @malfoytargaryen​ @ilikeitbetterangsty​ @bibli0thecary​ @m1ndbrand​ @connorsui​ @teamaemond​ @elegantsplendour​ @randomdragonfires​

Aegon taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter​ @sylas-the-grim​

[written-with-clouds]

I Found Love (Where It Wasn't Supposed To Be) Pt. 2

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen/ Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader

Summary: You and Aemond had always been close, even after he lost his eye and your mom moved your family to Dragonstone. What will happen when your grandsire dies and Aegon takes the throne from your mother? Will you and Aemond be able to stay together? Or will family drive you apart?

Authors Note: Cross posted on AO3, Aemond and Reader are of legal age during all spicy scenes.

CW: Uncle/Niece, Secret Relationship, Minor Character is badly injured

Part 1 Part 3

You stand alongside your brothers, watching as your mother and Daemon burn your dead-born sister. Joffrey clings to your legs, unsure of the sadness that permeates the air, and you pet a hand soothingly through his mop of brown hair. A few stray tears running down your cheeks. 

The wind carries the sound of armored footsteps approaching. You turn, seeing a lone Kingsguard, not one of your own, carefully approaching your mother where she stands atop a small rocky hill. He bends the knee before her, holding out your late grandsire’s crown.

“I swear to ward the Queen, with all my strength… and give my blood for hers.” The Kingsguard starts, Daemon approaches him, taking the crown from his hands, as he continues. “I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side, and defend her name and honor.”

 You hold your breath, watching as Daemon slowly returns to your mother and gently places the crown upon her head. He kneels before her and you watch as the other inhabitants of Dragonstone follow, kneeling down before her in a show of fealty. You and your brothers follow suit, bowing your heads to your mother.

The next days go by in a blur. Jace is sent north to secure the support of House Stark and the Eyrie, Luke sent to Storm’s End. Rhaenys leaves on Meleys, to patrol over the barrier made to cut off all sea trade to King’s Landing. Beala patrols over Dragonstone with her sister, Rhaena, on their dragons. 

You, on the other hand, are left to watch your youngest brothers. You spend your days trying to entertain a seven year old Joffery, corral a four year old Aegon III, and keep a two year old Viserys II from eating loose stone. And even with the help of the wetnurses and maids, it is a daunting task. 

During the night, your mind wanders to Aemond. At first you were angry, fuming, at the fact that he could stand aside and let his brother usurp the throne. That he would then, in turn, ask you to leave your own family behind. Then, you were sad. You would sit in your bed night after night and reread all of the letters he had sent you over the years. From the beginning, when you had first moved to Dragonstone. When he had first asked to meet with you in private, in the very same spot you had just days ago said goodbye to him. To the few letters he had sent in the days following your last meeting. 

Meet me at the island, please. I need to see you one last time. 

I waited for you. I will wait again tonight. Please come.

I am to leave King's Landing tomorrow, please meet with me tonight. Kostilus, ñuha jorrāelagon, (Please, my love,). I will be waiting, as always.

I leave today. Avy jorrāelan (I love you)

Luke was the first of your brothers to return. 

He had been badly burned. The right side of his body had taken the brunt of it, the skin peeling and red. Arrax was only slightly better, his wings and scales singed and ash covered. Luke’s screams echoed throughout the whole of Dragonstone as the Maester’s worked to help him. After hours of listening to him cry and scream, you had had enough. 

You walked along the coastline, fighting to keep your composure. In the end, it was a losing battle. You screamed, chucking rocks into the ocean and kicking sand around until you exhausted yourself. Collapsing to the ground, you wailed. For you or for Luke, you couldn’t tell. You cried for what must have been hours, every frustration and tension leaving your body. Over time you tired, curling into yourself, your eyes drifting closed.

You woke up in your room, laying overtop the blankets of your bed, still clothed for the day. Glancing outside you could see that night had long taken over, the sky filled with a crescent moon and glittering stars.

“You’re awake,” you turn to find your mother sitting in a lounge chair by the hearth. Rhaenyra stands, walking over to you and placing the back of her hand against your forehead. “Are you feeling alright, darling? We hadn’t seen you for hours and then Ser Erryk had carried you inside. He said he found you on the shore, asleep and trembling.” Her voice was laced with worry. 

“I went for a walk to get some fresh air and grew tired.. I must have fallen asleep.” You say, “I’m sorry to have worried you.” 

She sits next to you on the bed, pulling you against her in a hug and petting your hair. “It’s alright darling, I’m just happy you're safe.” The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the night. 

Rhaenyra speaking breaks the silence. At first, you don't realize she had asked you a question. But when she repeats herself, your blood runs cold. 

“You were close with your uncle Aemond… weren’t you?” You pull back from her, sitting up to look at your mother. 

“Why do you ask?” You inquire, heart beating loudly in your chest. 

“In truth, I’ve noticed that something has changed in you. I had no hope of knowing what it was without you telling me and had long resigned myself to not knowing… until tonight.” Your mother paused, standing from your bed and walking over to the small table next to the lounge she had been resting on. Your heart beats impossibly louder inside you as she picks up the letters Aemond had sent you. You had forgotten to put them away. “I read some of them… it’s nice.. that you had formed a good relationship with your uncle. You are perhaps the only one of us that could…” 

You watch as she measures her next words, thinking over the best way to say them. 

“But, I hope you will understand that this cannot and will not continue.” 

You stand abruptly, “What! Why? Because of Aegon? Because of this fight between you and Queen Alicent?” 

“Not just that dear.” She walks over to you, running her hands down your arms and grabbing your hands gently, “It’s–“ 

Interrupting her, pull your hands out of her grasp, walk out onto the balcony, and cross your arms over your chest. Turning to face her as she follows you, “It’s what? I need a reason, an explanation. A good one, not just some excuse about who his family is.”

“Aemond is the one responsible for Luke’s pain,” she says calmly. 

Whatever anger you held in that moment shattered. “He… n-no.. you’re lying! He may have had his problems with Luke when they were children.. but he’d never give that sort of command! Aemond wouldn’t do that!” You wrap your arms around yourself as you begin to pace. “It isn’t true,” you whisper as if trying to comfort yourself. 

Your mother stands in place, watching your inner battle. Her expression shows nothing but sympathy as she speaks again, “He didn’t just command it, dear..” Her words are gentle. 

You abruptly stop, facing away from your mother. “You don’t– He didn’t–“ you struggle to find the words, tears clouding your vision. 

“He… Aemond was the one to burn Luke.” Your mother’s words are drowned out by the ringing that fills your ears. Letting out a sharp cry, you drop to your knees sobbing. You jerk away from your mothers touch when she tries to console you with a hand placed on your shoulder. “Leave.” You whisper, crying into your hands. You listen as Rhaenyra’s footsteps recede and the door to your room opens and closes.

You didn’t leave your room for days… maybe even a full week. Servants brought food to you, even if most of it didn’t remain in your stomach. Most days you didn’t dress, remaining in your sleepwear and staring blankly out across the sea. When you weren’t transfixed on the water, you were sat at your desk. You wrote what must have been dozens of short letters, none of which would ever be sent. 

How could you?

Did your hatred for Luke outweigh your love for me?

Why did you do it? 

I hate you. 

I’ll never forgive you. 

I still love you.

It’s when Jace returns from the North that you finally decide to leave the safety of your room. Dressed for the first time in days, you join the council to welcome your brother, much to your mothers surprise. 

“Welcome home, Prince Jacaerys.” Your mother spoke warmly. “What news do you bring us?” 

Your brother bowed his head in greeting, one hand resting over top the hilt of his sword. “The Lady Jeyne Arryn has pledged her support to you. In return, she requests a dragon be sent for protection.” 

Your mother nods approvingly, “and the North?” 

“Lord Cregan Stark has promised two thousand men…” Jace hesitates slightly, glancing to you and then to your mother. 

“Does he request something in return?” You ask.

He nods, answering. “Yes, He asks for (Y/N)’s hand in marriage.” 

Your eyes widen and you watch your mother. Nothing in her expression gives away what she is thinking as she replies with a gentle, “Please send a raven North. Let Lord Stark know we will accept the terms of his offer.” 

“What?” You say loudly, “Mother you can’t be serious!” 

“We need to secure-“ Your mother starts, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“-Secure all the support we can.” You finish for her. “I know. But marrying me off to someone… a stranger at that? Sending me North? You’re okay with that?!” 

She sighs deeply, placing her hand against the table. “Give us the room.” At her words, everyone in the room left. All but you and Jace, who hovered by the door, unsure of what to do. “Jacaerys, you may leave as well… go get cleaned up. Visit your brother.”

“Mother I–“ You start to say. After the door thuds shut behind your brother.

Rhaenyra shushes you, standing and walking over to you. Her jaw is clenched as she takes your hands in hers. Exhaling sharply through her nose and closing her eyes briefly to gather her thoughts. “I don’t want to send you away. I don’t want you to be seen as a prize or bargaining chip.” She reaches up to cup your face, “You are my daughter.. My first born… But I have to make choices I don’t want to make.” 

Her voice cracks and you can see a tear fall down her cheek. Your brow furrows as you step away from her, shaking your head in disbelief. “No…” you say softly, almost in a whisper. 

“We need the men,” She follows after you carefully, like you’re a wild animal that she is trying to tame. “The Starks are good people… they’re loyal and just… you’ll be safe there… protected.” 

“But I won’t be happy.” You spit. 

“You don’t know that..” Your mother bargains. 

“I will be miserable. I will be nothing more than a trophy won in a war. A bargaining chip. A piece of the puzzle. A pawn in your game to move as you wish!” You scream at her. 

She eyes you sympathetically, her expression holding nothing but pity. She sighs deeply before calling for Ser Erryk. “Take her to her room. She is not to leave Dragonstone until I have given explicit permission. I want one guard posted outside her door and her dragon is to be supervised at all hours. She goes nowhere without a guard or me. Am I understood?”

“Mother–“

“Yes, My lady.” Ser Erryk grabs your arm firmly, not enough to hurt but enough that you can’t twist out of it. He escorts you back to your room. Muttering a quiet apology before shutting the door.

You spent the next week pacing in your room. Throwing things against the door while screaming until your throat was raw. At first, your mother would try to visit only to be turned away with insults or ignored completely. Jace would sit with after night had fallen and update you on Luke’s recovery. The only happiness you felt was in hearing that Luke was fine. He would scar, but otherwise be okay. Even his walking was expected to recover nearly completely over time. These conversations were possibly the only reason you hadn’t gone insane. 

On the seventh day of your confinement, you overheard the guards outside your door speaking with each other. 

“How long do you think this’ll continue? I’m gettin’ bored of standin’ outside a door for hours.” One whispered. 

“Not much longer I think,” There was a long pause where all you could hear was the slight shifting of metal. “I heard that Lord Stark is sailin’ here to claim his prize.” The second guard jokes, groaning after what sounds like he got hit in the stomach. 

“Don’t speak about the Princess like that.. she could hear ya.” The first guard whisper-yells. 

At the mention of Stark, you paled. Your heart stuttered and your breathing increased. Stepping away from the door you rushed out to the balcony, hands gripping the short stone wall so hard you cut your hand in a few places. You can’t feel the pain though, as you struggle to catch your breath. Tears cloud your vision for the thousandth time in the past three weeks. Slumping to the floor as your legs give out, you draw them towards your chest. Wrapping your arms around them tightly. 

You sit there, gulp down whatever air you can for what feels like forever. You distantly hear a knock at your door. And another when you don’t answer. A few moments pass silently before the sound of a door opening startles you. You quickly push yourself backwards, attempting to hide within the shadows of the setting sun. Fearing that Lord Stark was closer than you assumed, that he had arrived at Dragonstone to take you. 

Instead, in the archway leading to your balcony stood Luke. He walked with wooden crutches to support his weight and he had bandages adorning his right leg and most of his right arm. He carefully made his way to you. Unable to crouch or kneel, he leans back against the short wall. 

Looking at you with concern and confusion, “What’s wrong.. am I so horribly disfigured that you hide from me?” He tries to joke. Hoping to lighten the mood and set you at ease.

You don’t move, only lifting your head to meet his eyes. “I can’t stay here…” you whisper, it’s barely audible over the breeze that passes through. When Luke doesn’t respond you speak again, “I need to leave… please Luke, I need help.. I can’t be forced into a marriage.. please– please help me..” you beg. 

Luke considers you for a moment, deep in thought, before he speaks again. Sighing loudly, “Fine…” he says finally. “Tonight, after the guards last check, tie your sheets together and anchor them to the balcony. Climb down them and get to the shore line on the far east, there is a small boat tied to some rocks. No one will see you with how dark it gets, and by the time they do you’ll be gone.” 

You take in his words, committing them to memory, before standing slowly. “Thank you, Luke..” You hug him, mindful of his wounds. 

By the time Luke leaves your room, the sun has set completely and the moon is visible. As he leaves, you thank him one last time and ask how he knew of the boat. Luke simply turns to look at you over his shoulder and mutters a quiet, 

“I have my secrets like everyone else.”

The moon was at its highest by the time you reached King’s Landing. You pulled the hood of your cloak over your head to conceal your face as you carefully walked through the streets. 

Quietly you slinked through hidden hallways of the Red Keep, following the same winding path you have for years. Stopping only once you stood in front of the familiar backing to a painting. You strained your ears, listening for movement in the room on the other side of the painting. When you heard nothing after several minutes, you slowly pushed the painting away from the wall and climbed out into the room. Before you can put the painting back into place, you’re shoved against the wall with a dagger placed at your throat. 

“I thought you’d be happy to see me..” You joke weakly. The dagger hits the floor with a loud clink and your hood is yanked off of your head. Hands grip your biceps tightly, as if afraid that you’ll run the second their grip loosens. 

“Is it– Are you really here?” Aemond whispers into the space between you. He isn’t wearing his eyepatch, the sapphire gem reflecting the light from the fireplace. 

You reach a hand up and gently trace along his scar, just as you had so many times in the past. You give him a small smile as tears well up in your eyes like they had so many times these past weeks. Although, unlike the other tears you’ve shed, these are tears of joy. 

“I’m here…” you reassure Aemond, resting your forehead against his. “I’ve missed you..”

Aemond breathes a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he relaxes. His hands move from your biceps, one cupping the side of your face and neck while the other rests against your hip. The two of you stand in silence, enjoying the peace of being near each other. Of being in the other's embrace. 

“I wrote to you…” he whispered.

“I know.” You respond equally as quiet. “I wrote many responses.. and even more questions… none of which I could bring myself to send.” 

Aemond took a shuddering breath, pulling back to look you in the eye. He cupped your face in both hands, his thumbs rubbing against your cheeks, “I’m sorry… about Luke, I– I didn’t mean to hurt him…” 

You shush him, bring your hands to rest on his forearms. “I believe you,”

He swallows, Adams apple bobbing, carefully asking “Did– is Luke… dead?” 

You’re shaking your head no before he finishes his question. “Luke is alive and healing. He will be fine.” 

Aemond nods. It’s a small, barely there, movement that had you not been so close to him you wouldn’t have seen it. 

As silence falls over the two of you once again, you gently remove his hands from your face. Releasing them only to remove your cloak. You grab one of Aemond’s hands and guide him to his bed, softly instructing him to lay down. You climb into the bed after him, curling up alongside his body with your head resting against his chest. He holds you against him with an arm around your back that rests on your hip. His other hand lays flat against his stomach. 

“Why did you come here?” Aemond asks. You can hear his heart beating against his chest, a dead giveaway to how unsure he is. “Why return to me? When I waited for you… I was sure I’d never see you again..” 

“I needed to leave…” you say simply. Your hand traces nonsense along his torso and over the back of his hand. “Dragonstone was becoming a prison…” 

You feel Aemond tense beside you. “What do you mean?” He asks carefully. 

You sigh deeply, “While my eldest brothers were off on their dragons, securing allies for our mother, I was stuck on Dragonstone babysitting my youngest brothers…” as if he can sense your hesitation in continuing, Aemond squeezes your arm reassuringly. “When Luke returned… my mother practically doubled the workload of the guards. Especially those that protected my brothers and I.. it was all very suffocating.” 

“And this caused you to leave?” He asked carefully. You shifted in his arms, propping yourself up on one elbow. 

“Yes… but not just that…” You trail off again, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. 

Aemond watched you worriedly as you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. “What is it, Issa jorrāelagon (my love)? What happened?”

“Lord Cregan Stark asked for my hand in marriage… and in return, he promised two thousand men. My mother accepted and, when I refused, she locked me inside my room.” Your jaw clenched as anger welled inside you, Aemond’s arm tightening around your waist. “I sat there for a week… trapped and miserable, with guards outside my door and under my balcony all day and all night. I could do nothing but sit and wait. When I heard that Lord Stark would soon be arriving.. I decided, for sure, that I needed to leave.. funny enough, it was Luke who helped.. whether or not he knew of us I couldn’t say…”

Aemond was quiet for a moment. Taking in what you had experienced, the fact that your own mother would do this surprised him. He expected it from his own mother… but he always assumed yours cared more for her children than Alicent. “What matters is that you are here now. And I will not let you go again.” Another beat of silence. “Marry me, Issa jorrāelagon (my love).” 

You breathe out a quick laugh gazing down at Aemond. “That alone would start a war, Aemond… our families would never allow it…”

“Then we won’t tell them.” He sits up hastily, nearly knocking his forehead against yours in the process. “We can leave. Leave Kings Landing… leave Dragonstone.. hells, even lease Westeros if need be.”

“Aemond–“ he continues to speak, cutting you off.

“We can start a new life together.. just us, our dragons… maybe a kid or two somewhere down the line..” 

“I–I would really like that..” you say, smiling dreamily as you imagine it. “We should leave soon.. they’ll notice I’m gone come sunrise..” 

“Then we will leave before that..” Aemond guides you to lay back against the bed, smirking as he kisses along your jaw.

“We should leave now.. no one is awake… no one would notice.” You whisper. You gasp as he licks along your neck. Your skin heats up from the warmth of his breath as he sucks against your pulse point, likely leaving a mark. You feel him hum a ‘no’ against your skin as he continues to kiss gently along your neck and collarbone. “Aemond~” you drawl. 

Stopping his assault on your neck, he lifts up to meet your gaze, “We will leave… as soon as I’ve had a taste of you..” 

Aemond returns his attention to your neck as his hands work deftly to remove your dress. The feel of the soft fabric sliding down and off of your body elicits goosebumps and the chill of the room hitting your skin causes you to shiver. Aemond kisses every newly exposed part of flesh, marking his way down your body. Sitting back in his heels, he tugs the dress off of your legs and tosses it aside. Your underwear follows suit. 

“This feels a little one sided,” you joke, looking through half lidded eyes. 

He simply laughs to himself, tugging his own shirt up over his head and tossing it to join your dress. His pants follow soon after along with his underwear. Quirking an eyebrow he smirks at you, “Better, issa jorrāelagon (my dear)?” He teases. 

Aemond hooks his arms under each of your thighs as he makes himself comfortable between them. He lays his hands flat against your stomach and gently kisses your inner thigh. You watch with bated breath as he sticks out his tongue and runs it through your folds. The tip barely manages to push inside you before it is removed again. He groans against you, the vibrations causing your hips to stutter. Aemonds hands held you in place, trapped against him as he devoured you like a starved man. 

“Aemond! Fuck.. oh gods, it feels good!” You moan. Despite the hold he has on you, your hips manage to grind against him with small circular motions. One hand fists the sheets below you as the other tangles into his hair. 

Aemond lifts his head to look at you, licking his lips before saying, “Nyke jorrāelagon se sylutegon hen ao, issa dōna (I love the taste of you, my sweet),” One of his hands shifts down so that his thumb lays overtop your clit. You gasp as he begins to circle his thumb around it. “It’s sweet and far more addictive than any wine in the whole of Westeros.” 

Your breath catches on a moan as Aemond continues to ravish you. He thrusts his tongue into you as far as it will go while his thumb quickly works over your sensitive clit. You writhe against him as you bring your hand up to cup your breast, flicking and pulling at your nipple. Your eyes shut as your head falls back against the pillows, back arching, as two fingers join his tongue. His fingers curl inside you, coaxing moans and shuddering gasps from your mouth. Heat pools in the bottom of your stomach as your climax rapidly approaches, Aemonds name falling from your lips like a prayer, begging for more. His tongue and fingers working in earnest as you writhe against him feverishly. The hand in his hair gripping and anchoring him against you. Your thighs tremble on either side of his head as your orgasm explodes through you. Your eyes rolling back and head falling limply to the side with a drawn out moan flowing from your mouth. 

Aemond works you through your climax, thumb gently rubbing over your clit as his tongue and fingers slowly continue to stretch your entrance. It isn’t until you’re whining and struggling against him from overstimulation, that he stops and pulls back. Making a show of sucking his fingers, soaked with your release, into his mouth and moaning around them before pulling them out with a pop. 

He looks over your body, skin glistening in the candle light. His eyes darken and he smiles. You meet his gaze as he crawls up the length of your body and captures your lips with his own. You moan into him, your tongues dancing against each other and you can taste yourself on him. Your arms wrap around his middle, hooking up to rake your nails down his back. You smirk into the kiss, hearing his sharp intake of breath and feeling his muscles spasm under your hands. You break the kiss, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth gently. He growls, chasing after your lips. You smile, chuckling lightly at his failed attempts to recapture your lips as you turn your face away from him. You position your mouth next to his ear, biting the lobe gently.

“Nyke jorrāelagon ao isse issa, sir (I need you in me, now).” You whisper into his ear before licking the shell of it. “Kostilus gaomagon daor mazverdagon issa umbagon (Please do not make me wait).” 

Aemond shifts above you reaching a hand down and running it through your folds before quickly fisting his cock, using your arousal to slick himself. He guides his length to your entrance, prodding against you. “Skorkydoso kostagon nyke vestragon daor skori ao epagon sīr sȳrī (How can I say no when you ask so well)?” 

Slowly, He pushes in. “You’re doing so well, issa jorrāelagon (my love).” Aemond praises. He runs his hands soothingly over your body, trying to help you relax as you adjust to his size. “You’re taking me so well… sīr vok (so perfect)... made just for me,” He groans, bottoming out inside you. 

He remains still, placing kisses against your shoulders, your jaw, your temple, any part of you his mouth could reach. Whispering praises into your ear and against your mouth as he kisses you softly. 

After a few moments of his gentle kisses and featherlight caresses, you shift your hips against him. “You- you can move now…” 

Aemond sets a slow pace. Languidly thrusting into you as he continued to kiss the exposed skin of your neck and shoulder. Your hands roam over the expanse of his torso, feeling the muscles shift under your touch with each roll of his hips. You move a hand up to cup the side of Aemond’s face, pulling him to you. You lightly press your lips to his scar before kissing his lips. Pulling away from the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours. His forearms, placed on either side of your head, support him as the two of you enjoy the feel of being so closely entwined. You roll your hips to meet his with every thrust in, moaning as you feel him sink deeper into you. 

As Aemonds arms tire, he repositions the two of you. He now lays behind you with his arms wrapped around your torso as he rocks into you from behind. In this position Aemond can freely run his hands over your body. One hand coming down to work over your clit, matching the speed of his thrusts. You cant your hips back against him as best you can, growing closer to release and seeking out more pleasure. The sound of Aemond’s breathy groans next to your ear only spurring you on. 

Aemond finishes first, hips stuttering as he releases inside you. His breath is hot on the back of your neck as he groans before panting against you. You follow soon after, climaxing around his cock as his hand still works over your clit. As your body relaxes into his, Aemond pulls out. 

He untangles himself from you, standing from the bed with a hushed promise of returning as your whine. When he does return, it’s with a rag and sleepwear. Aemond gently cleans his spend from between your legs before cleaning himself off. He tosses the rag into a wicker basket, quickly dresses himself and then helps your sluggish body into the garments. Finally, he climbs back into the bed behind you, pulling a blanket up over your bodies. 

You turn to face Aemond, tucking yourself against him as he wraps his arms around you once again. He kisses your forehead, whispering promises of the future you two will have. “Rest for now, issa jorrāelagon (my love), We’ll leave soon.” He whispered to you, his own eye feeling heavy. It wasn’t long until you both had drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

You stir slightly at the sound of a door opening and armored footsteps rushing into the room. In your sleep dreary state, you think nothing of it. Snuggling back against Aemond. 

It isn’t until you are being forcefully pulled from the bed that you comprehend that something is wrong. You scream and thrash against the man that is holding you, kicking your feet wildly and twisting your body to try and loosen his grip. The man's grip remains secure throughout your flailing, and eventually you give up.

Aemond is on his feet in seconds, dagger in hand, as he watches the men that had entered his room. Kings Guards. He scowls, taking notice of the several fully armored guards now standing in around him. His gaze shoots to where you stand when he hears you whimper. Shackles had been placed tightly around your wrists. Aemond starts to walk towards you, but is stopped by two Kings Guards as they each grab an arm. He fights against them, trying to pull his arms free only to stop at the sound of heels entering the room. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Aemond snarls, fighting against the guards' hold. 

“She is a traitor to the crown.” Queen Alicent responds calmly, her hands clasped in front of her. “We have it in good faith that she is here to either spy or harm the king and his family. Neither are risks I am willing to take.” 

“She is of no concern to you.” He manages to free one arm, “She will not harm anyone here, you have my word, mother. Let her go. She will leave Kingslanding and not return. This need not go any farther.” Aemond bargains, pleading with his mother with more emotion than Queen Alicent had seen from him. 

Queen Alicent considers her son for a moment, watching as his gaze shifts to yours. His eye softening as he tries to reassure you silently. The hand he had pulled free twitching at his side as if fighting to not reach for you. She turns her gaze to you, shaking slightly in fear but trying not to show it. Your eyes, wide as a doe, never leaving Aemond’s as you take in rapid breaths. 

“Take her to the dungeons,” She spoke authoritatively. 

“No!” Aemond roars, fighting harder against the guards trying to restrain him. 

“Aemond!” You say, panicking as the guards force you out of the room. Aemond yells, just barely managing to free his second arm before a guard punches him in the stomach. He doubles over with a groan, coughing roughly. 

Queen Alicent calmly walks over to him and places her hand against his cheek. “This is for the better, my dear. This will pass with time.” She quietly says before turning and leaving the room. The guards release Aemond and he drops to the floor. 

When the door to his room shuts, he slowly stands. Grabbing the nearest object, a vase of black and gold, he throws it as hard as he can. It smashes against the far wall of his room, shattering to pieces before it can even touch the ground. Aemond continues his rampage until there is no part of his room left untouched by his rage. Until he sees something laying on the floor.

Stopping dead in his tracks as he goes to smash another object, there on the floor lays your dress. Discarded carelessly earlier in the night, when Aemond still held you in his arms. 

The object clatters to the floor as Aemond follows, his knees giving out beneath him. Gently and with more care than he has ever shown to anyone but you, he lifts the garment in his hands. Bringing it to his face, he inhales. He can still smell your perfume, the hints of rose intertwining with the scent of ash wood from Dragonstone. 

Silent tears soak the fabric as Aemond cries, still holding the garment to him. He never thought himself a religious man, but in that moment, Aemond prayed. He prayed, to any god that would listen or care, for your safety. And that you would return to him.

Aemond stood on shaky legs and walked to his bed, uncaring in shards of glass cut his feet. He lay on top of his sheets, curled around your dress protectively. Aemond remains there, on the bed, crying silently until he is unable to keep his eye open.

Part 1 Part 3