#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 004

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

cw: suggestive themes

Rating: 18+

Not proofread

Tags: @fan-goddess @meowmeowmothermeower @bunxia @your-favorite-god @coolalienstatesmansports @qwerrtsworld @wegottastayfocus @dakota-rain666 @talilosha

WC: 10.7K

Your nails dug into your palms and your jaw was clenched. It was silent as you and Aemond walked beside each other. 

“Was my uncle the one to strike you?” Aemond asked beside you and your eyes twitched at the mention of your latest humiliation. 

“What do you think?” You spat out not even bothering to look at him as you stormed down the hall. Only one whole day here and you had gotten bitch slapped and then humiliated in front of potential boy toys. It was unacceptable! Not to mention you hadn’t eaten anything because you were scared that you would contract something. 

“Yes, Daemon backhanded me, and then he-” You took a deep breath calming yourself. It’s not cute when you get mad. “Sorry. Yes, Prince Daemon was the one to strike me as you say.” You turned to face Aemond who had no expression on his face. It unnerved you. 

“Why?” Was all he said before walking beside you at a slower pace. 

“Because I’m not a messiah, or a saint, or whatever it is you guys have here to perform miracles. What do I look like saving someone without an eye-” Oooh, yikes. You cringed at your wording suddenly remembering Aemond had an eye patch. “Sorry.”

Aemond didn’t acknowledge your apology. In fact he didn’t say anything. What went on in that head, you couldn’t say. The man never let out anything but a smile that always looked condescending. 

You cleared your throat to speak again instead of being in the awkward silence. “Anyways, he told me if I couldn’t heal him, he’d kill me. I told him there wasn’t much I could do and he was going to chop off my head and I stopped him, then he backhanded me.”  

“You? You stopped my uncle?” You could hear just a little bit of surprise in his voice and for some reason it filled you with pride to know you could evoke something like that out of him. 

You smiled towards him and you felt your cut split open once more. “Why do you think he had those bandages on his hand?” 

As you reached your chamber doors, you both stood looking at each other. That small smirk on his face he always had now slightly more pronounced and of course you with an innocent little smile while blood coated your bottom lip. 

“Well, thank you for walking me to my…” You fought the urge to say room. “Chambers.” You let a small silence fall before taking a deep breath and looking at him with a sincere expression. “And thank you, for pulling me away from Daemon.” You opened your doors and before you stepped inside once more you looked back towards the Prince with a small smile. “Goodnight Prince Aemond.” 

“Goodnight my lady.” He gave a nod before you turned away, closing the door. Walking inside the candle-lit room you sat down. It smelled like candle wax and not the good kind here, you needed to circulate the air but if you opened the window it’d smell terrible because people here lacked basic hygiene and still throw their bodily fluids outside windows. 

Like really? Out of all the places, you somehow ended up in medieval times? It couldn’t have been during Roman times when there were aqueducts and running water, public bathhouses, and a pretty good sewer system?

You sighed and sat down on a chair refusing to touch your bed until you were out of this dress. You looked around your room or chambers as they called them here. Standing up you went to the window touching the curtains. Well at the very least they had good windows. Opening up the curtains you watched the lights of the city. 

What were you doing here? What could you do here? Why were they keeping you around? Did they really think you were some sort of god-sent messenger? You already couldn’t heal the king and Daemon made it more than clear that he was willing to kill you. Would others? 

You just wanted to go home. You felt as if you were going mad without music. You’d kill to listen to some modern music but if you did your battery would go down and wasting the only thing you had left from where you came from and wasting it on music was not something you were going to do. 

“Oh god, I can’t.” You sighed out in frustration. The smell of candles was provoking a headache. Bad enough you were sensitive to smell, but now living in a smelly city!? God you just couldn’t! Walking away from the window you opened the doors. “Oh!” You let out a small yelp. 

Queen Alicent and her father stood there seemingly ready to knock. “Your grace, my lord.” You nodded, greeting both. “Please come in.” You invited them in and both entered as you closed the door. 

You cringed internally hoping your room wasn’t too messy. Your suitcase lay open showing countless bottles of shampoo, soaps, and conditioner among other things. 

“Sorry for the mess, I was not expecting visitors.” You spoke as you quickly went to close your suitcase. “You turned and smiled and fought the urge to hiss as you felt your lip crack again. Had to apply something to it. 

“How may I help you?” You asked as you gestured for them to sit down and you sat on the side of the table. (Was it a coffee table or a tea table? Did coffee exist here?) 

“I do hope you have been enjoying your stay here…” Otto trailed looking around your room. He spoke with such a tone that it made you sit up right. “You seem to have taken quite well with your quarters.” He made an off comment as he looked towards your clothes which lay on the ground. 

“I have, and I am grateful for the crown’s hospitality.” It was clear what the implication was. The only problem was that in all honesty, you were not one to enjoy such word games. You lost your temper too quickly, but here you were a guest, you had to comply with whatever rules they had. “Should there be a day the Crown may have use for certain knowledge I possess I would be most happy to oblige.” This is probably the most formal you have ever spoken to since arriving here, but it was necessary.

“Good, now earlier today you spoke of genetics I believe.” You nodded. “You said it determines offspring coloring…”

“Yes the phenotypes and genotypes, is there someone who you would wish to know their parentage?” You knew bastards were unwelcome here but to go as far as this? 

“How accurate would you say you can get the answer?” 

“It depends on how much information I can attain. I would need the appearances of as many relatives. Mother, father, alleged fathers, alleged mothers, grandmothers, grandfathers and so on. The more the better. My method is considered extremely accurate. I can give the possibilities of the phenotypes that a child would have depending on the parents, this of course can also be used to prove…” You leaned forward and looked through your lashes towards the father and daughter. “Bastardy, if one so wished of course.” 

“Such information is sensitive, I’m sure you can understand,” Otto murmured, looking at you with serious eyes. 

You looked towards Alicent with a stern look on your face. “Queen Alicent saved my life. I assure you, that hasn’t been forgotten. Now, who is my investigation on?”

“The children of Princess Rhaenerya.”

…

You groaned as the maids opened the blinds. “No stop! Don’t open the windows, it stinks out there, just leave the door open.” You sat up on your bed stretching. You looked over towards one of the two maids who had opened the curtains. “Get me…two bowls of freshly boiled water and one cup, please.”

“Would you like me to bring you one of the dresses the Queen has gifted you, my lady?” The second maid asked and you shook your head. 

“No need, I won’t be leaving my room today but what you can get me is fruits or oils. Oh, and get me a pot to melt things plus some scrap rope, I have work to do today.” You spoke as you yawned standing up and looking down towards the family tree you had made last night, a whole lot of incest in there. 

When the second maid left you sat down and stared at the family tree. Of course, you did not know whether white hair was recessive or dominant nor if black hair was recessive or dominant, usually however, black hair tended to be the dominant trait and of course, the hair color genotype was incomplete dominance. There were too many possibilities and just thinking about it you felt overwhelmed.

“Oh my god, I don’t wanna do this.” You groaned out and just then both maids came back. You smiled and stood up walking away from your desk. “Beautiful. Leave me, I will call you when I need you.” Both maids bowed and left. Skipping to your suitcase you pulled out a tube of toothpaste and your toothbrush. “Oh, yuh!” You grinned and set your things down. You rinsed your face with the warm water cleaning your face. Then squeezing out a good amount of toothpaste you happily began brushing your teeth. 

After brushing your teeth feeling clean and refreshed you went over to smell the oils they brought you. Each with its own label. You squint your eyes muttering a curse. It was hard to read cursive written like this, though eventually you got the name. Six oils they had brought you, lavender, thyme, meadowsweet, marjoram, germander, and hyssop. All smelled quite nice so you’d make them all into scented candles. Going around the room you look at all the candles from the candle holders and dump them into a pot where to proceed to melt them all. You’re sure that scented candles already existed but honestly, you didn’t want to do the whole genetics equation just yet. You’d rather do a thousand other things than work on that stupid problem. 

You spent the better part of the day making your little candles, though you didn’t like the humidity that crept into your room. But now at least it didn’t smell bad inside your room, you didn’t want to ruin that by opening the window. Besides you were familiar with humidity, it never got better when you opened a window. 

Every day seemed to be a cruel monotonous day. You thought that being in a different era of time would result in more than you slaving over a desk testing out different possibilities of punnett squares so you get the most accurate answer you can. After all, if you got this wrong, well you’re sure it’s going to be your head on the chopping block. You got close enough last time and after nearly dying once, you can confidently say, this was NOT worth your life. 

You had initially thought that the white was received but that changed due to Jocelyn Baratheon being able to pass on her hair color to Princess Rheanys, but it was a different story when you looked at the Queen’s children, all white hair. 

“So what is it!? Okay, we know it’s heterozygous, but is the Queen’s brown hair homozygous recessive then or is it also heterozygous? Does that even matter?” You gave out a yell of frustration. “Ugh! Where are the French when you need them!? That one song, Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira, les aristocrates à la lanterne! Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira les aristocrates on les pendra!” Standing up from your spot you felt a sweat bead fall down your back. It was so hot you felt like you were going to die. 

On the fourth day, however, the heat became unbearable. “Fuck! I need a fan or sum!” You went and plopped yourself on your bed sighing. As you laid out you groaned as your back straight out. You don’t know how many hours you spent hunched over that stupid equation. You looked at your phone which was on the stand. “I deserve a song, maybe a movie.” Crawling you grabbed it and turned it on. Scrolling through your downloaded songs you fanned yourself. Finally, you settled on a song and as it began playing you walked around your room fanning yourself. Mid-song a huge grin grew on your face. Rolling up that damned family tree you pulled out another piece of paper and began sketching whole loudly singing the song that played in the background. After about an hour of your playlist playing a rough draft of a fan was born. 

You had no electricity, but a little inertia should do the trick. You went to your phone and powered it off once more before stepping outside and calling in the nearest maid ordering her to dress you. 

After being dressed you took your plans and headed off to find the blacksmith. Though mid-way walking through the castle you paused. You didn’t know where you headed. Walking around trying to find anyone, a door suddenly opened on your right. You backed away and Aemond came out looking towards you. You smiled. “Hey! Prince Aemond, where are you coming from?” You looked behind him to see a large dark room but before you could see anymore the doors closed. 

“The library.” He answered with a flat tone looking you over. 

“Oh! I didn’t know you guys had one, I’ll definitely have to check it out later.” You spoke in a cheery voice. This was perfect. A prince would certainly know the best blacksmith around. 

An awkward moment of silence passed. As he kept his eyes on you, you felt self-conscious and were suddenly aware of the fact that you had no makeup on and that the ugly bruise on your face was showing. Eager to have him focus on something else other than your face you spoke up. “Well! Prince Aemond, you wouldn’t happen to know a blacksmith…would you?”

“A blacksmith? Why would a lady such as yourself, require a blacksmith?” He looked you up in a questioning manner. 

“I need something made.” You answered and you could feel the judgment radiating off of him.

“Armor?” Aemond scoffed out.

“Goodness no. I’ve never even swung a real sword. I need other things made, and a blacksmith is the best I could come up with.” You ignored his tone and responded with a smile. You needed that blacksmith.

“What do you need to make?” Aemond pressed.

Rolling your eyes you responded. “Six spheres, two annuli, and five blades.” You watched his face and saw confusion on his face and you resisted the urge to give a smug smirk. 

“Hm.. and do you have money for a blacksmith?” He smiled down at you and you paused. No…you actually didn’t have any money.

“Hmmm…no.” You purse your lips and squint your eyes at him. You stepped away from him and pointed at him. “I’ll be back tomorrow or sometime.” That was all you said before you walked away. 

“My Lady, the King requests your presence.” A maid told you as we were just about to enter your room. You sighed and nodded letting the maid guide you to the King’s chamber room. 

“Your Grace,” You greeted looking towards the old man in the bathtub. “You summoned me?” You walked over to stand in front of the naked man. You tried not to let your eyes wander. It was not something you wished to see.

“The hot baths and the daily disinfecting work fine, but you have forbidden drinking wine. What am I to drink? Just water?” King Viserys heaved out and pursed your lips in thought. 

“A drink?” You observed the King, his skin was weak, gray and his bones were showing. He lacked nutrients. IV would work, but you didn’t know how to administer it and would rather not risk your first time putting a needle into someone who could have your head. “A juice of berries is something you can do. However, I will do my best to create a drink that helps your condition.” 

Great something else to add to your already long to-do list. Couldn’t the man just die already!? The Princess ascends to the throne, and you figure out how to return home without killing yourself.  

As you looked down towards the sickly man the gears in your head turned. Coffee could maybe give the allusion to feeling better, but where did coffee beans even come from? You couldn’t recall. Energy drinks were out of the question, and you had no clue how to even make them. Excess sugar? You didn’t know. Maybe some coconut water would help him. Coconut was good for people no? Maybe some milk? 

No wait, what if he was lactose intolerant? You saw their versions of toilets. Not cute, you hated using them. It was disgusting. 

“How long will you have me wait?” Viserys spoke out once more in a heaving tone. 

“I’ll have it for you by tomorrow.” You stood still and the room full of Maester stared at you. “Oh umm, your grace. Excuse me.” You corrected yourself before leaving the room. As you walked down the hallways you saw a familiar green dress. 

“Queen Alicent!” You greeted me with a smile. She only nodded towards you. “A small update on my work, I have figured out several potential linkages of genetics, I won’t be able to calculate percentages until next week give or take.” 

Alicent sighed and nodded. 

“...Along with that, can I ask for some…money?” You looked away from her as you asked. You hated asking for money. It was not something you were raised with. When given money it was polite to refuse it until you couldn’t. Asking for money was always out of the question. You even hate asking for your parent’s money. 

“Money? What for?” She responded and you played with the rings on your fingers.

“I am making something, it is to help me with my work.” You looked up from the floor and towards Alicent. You saw her give a small nod. “My deepest gratitude.” You bowed. 

“I will arrange a meeting with the master coin this afternoon.”

…

“Who’s that for?” A familiar voice sounded next to you. You rolled your eyes as you continued walking forward away from Aegon. 

“Not for you.” You had not spoken to Aegon since the dinner. After all, the man had pushed you. Granted, you did land in Jacaerys arms, which was not a bad thing, but still. It was the principal, and recently, you had heard of bad things he had done. Abusing maids, bastard children, and he was an alcoholic. Not the company you wished to keep. 

“I haven’t seen you in a week, not since our dance. I quite enjoyed our time together.” He spoke walking beside you trying to see what was inside the pitcher you were holding.

“I’m sure you did.” You answered in a flat tone and he stopped walking with a small frown on his face. 

“Are you upset with me?” He asked you, looking you up and down. 

“Did you do something to upset me? Because if you did then I am, but if you did not then I am not upset.” You looked away from him hugging the pitcher closer to you.

“What is with these riddles, woman? I asked you a question. Answer it plainly.” He rolled his eyes at you running to catch up with you.

“I did.” You gave a hum and walked into the chambers of King Viserys. 

Leaving Aegon behind you walked over to King Viserys who was on a table having his wounds disinfected. “I’ve brought a drink, it improves hydration, muscle health, nerve function, blood pressure regulation, pH balance, and heart health” Or at least that’s what your health teacher told you when you had a class assignment to make electrolyte drinks from scratch. 

You poured a glass for him and gave it to him as he sat up drinking it. He let out a sound of contentment while nodding. “This is good. What does it have?” You smiled, setting down the pitcher filled with electrolyte water. 

“Ah, just basic things, a little bit of sugar for energy, then some sea salt, then finally some orange juice. Nothing too complicated. I’d drink it once every two days, it’s filled with a lot of nutrients, and too much can cause damage to the body. However, when you wish to drink it, simply ask the kitchen for an energy drink and they’ll make it.” You walked around, filled another chalice and offered it to the head Maester who took it drinking just a bit to test out your latest concoction. 

“Thank you,” Viserys spoke with a more steady voice than he had in the last week you had spoken to him. He also seemed to sit a lot straighter. Maybe the old man had more than just a couple of weeks. No casket just yet! “I need less milk of the poppy these days to help me sleep, though I do occasionally have trouble, do you have anything for that?”

Damn! Damn, that old needy man! 

There were melatonin gummies but you didn’t know how to make gummies, much less what melatonin was made out of. “Em…drink…lavender tea or have the oils sprinkled in your room. It relaxes the body, and uhh… read a boring book. It’ll knock you right out.” You gave a grin at your joke.  

Viserys smiled and nodded, giving thanks. 

“Of course, it is the least I can do for the Crown's continued hospitality towards me.” With that, you bowed and excused yourself to start your search mission for a certain one-eyed prince. You needed that blacksmith, this heat was killing you and honestly, you can’t stand sleeping without a blanket but it’s too hot with one. 

You walked around till you finally found the library and entered. The first thing you smelt was dust. “Ugh! Goodness, do I have to invent dusters too!?” Sniffling you walked around searching for long white and impossibly straight hair. You smiled as you saw him reading a book. Walking up to him you set the bag of gold you had recently gotten from Alicent in front of him. “I have the money, now, about that blacksmith,” 

Aemond gave a sigh closing the book. “You’ll find blacksmiths on the street of steel.” 

“Seriously?” Your unimpressed expression said it all. “That's what the street is called? M’kay.” You turned around and as you went to walk off. 

“Not many women buy armor.” Aemond pointed out and you stopped thinking about his statement. That’s right, this was an…unevolved society, not that yours was super better, but still a little. They’d probably try to upsell you…like a car dealership when a car needs an oil change or when the tires need to be rotated. (As if the tires didn’t rotate when you drove.)

You walked over to Aemond with the sweetest smile you mustered. “You’re right, I need a man to come with me. Maybe someone from the city will watch?” You batted your eyelashes, it was just your luck that you did put on a little mascara and some blush today. “Unless,” You leaned over the table and walked your fingers to his book while looking up towards him through your lashes. You’d probably get a better deal and a better blacksmith while having the prince. 

“I have better things to do.” He responded in a flat tone but you didn’t miss the little smirk on his face. Though you didn’t know if that was just his resting face or something else. 

“Aren’t curious to know what I’m inventing? I know you don’t know what an annuli is. I am the next biggest step in technology, aren’t you supposed to be the smart one or something? I thought this would elicit some kind of reaction.” You sighed looking away from him and instead looked towards the ceiling leaning back on the table. “I guess not. I wonder who the smart one is then, perhaps the least expected one. Aegon? Maybe the woman, Helaena, wouldn't that be something?” 

“What are you inventing?” He spoke as you stood upright to leave. A smile grew on your face and you turned to him. “You’ll be the first one I show once it’s done. Promise.” You held out your pinky. He only looked at it. You grabbed his left hand and formed a fist on his hand leaving out the pinky. “You just wrap it around mine and this…” You looked at your pinkies intertwined with a smile. “Means a promise.” 

…

You sighed with a big smile on your face as you wiped the sweat from your brow away. You grabbed some small bottles of shampoo and filled each one with water before you attached it to one of the five blades until each had its own bottle. 

“Moment of truth.” You sighed out feeling jittery hoping that your hypothesis was right. You spun it as hard as you could and your makeshift fan spun fast blowing sweet cool air toward you drying the sweat from your face. You stood there for a couple of moments taking in the air seeing if the fan would slow down and to your satisfaction, it didn’t. 

You giggled with excitement as you jumped and pumped your fist in the air. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Nikola Tesla who!? Who needs electricity? Not me! Yes!” You relished your victory in front of your fan as the cool air flowed and gave you a nice breeze under your night clothes. Finally being able to relax you sat down sighing out in contentment. “This…this deserves a song!” You jumped onto your bed and began playing a song on your playlist as you danced around your room singing along. Mid celebration dance your stomach rumbled. Stopping you raised a brow realizing that your maids hadn’t brought you breakfast yet. Sighing you opened the door only to see Prince Jacaerys and his betrothed Princess Baela looking rather suspicious. 

“Your grace? Graces?” What do you call multiple royals? You made a mental note to ask Alicent when you met her later tonight. Though Jacaerys was quick to look away. You understood the guy probably didn’t have much experience with girls, but this was a bit much no? 

“My lady! You are a nightgown!” Baela spoke in a shocked tone and you looked down. It wasn’t like you were naked and this was rather covering, besides, you had shorts on under the dress. 

“Oh, so that's what this is called. I thought it went under the dress.” You spoke in a nonchalant tone. Why would this be such a big deal?

“No, you wear those to sleep. My lady it is midday.” Baela spoke once again, clearing her throat. Has it really been that long? You had begun assembling your fan in the early hours of the morning when you couldn’t sleep due to the heat. 

“Oh really? I guess time does fly by. Anyways I wear this all day, it provides good airflow, but I’m guessing this is not appropriate attire by his reaction….” You eyed Jacaerys if this was perhaps the first time he has seen calves and ankles on a woman before. That thought made you giggle. He’d faint if he saw the shorts for women’s sports. “Well I came to ask the maids to deliver me breakfast or I suppose lunch now. I do have a lot of work to do.”

“Breaking your fast? At this hour?” Baela asked and you gave a little annoyed sigh. You always ate late due to pressing matters. (Stupid genetic problems.)

“Yeah, they got me slavin’ me away. The work I’m doing right now takes priority and I’m allowing myself a small break to eat a bit.” You complained. You’d talk anyone’s ear off if given the chance about how much you didn’t want to do that stupid little genetic equation. 

“Okay well… if you see any maids.” You snapped while pointing at them both with a small smile. “Send 'em my way.” You then pointed to yourself and with that, you turned around and went back into your room. 

Finally happy with the fan in your room you sat down going back to the genetic problem. However, before you even picked up your writing utensil you promptly dropped giving a loud groan. “Argh! I don’t want to do this.” You said to no one before leaning back on the hard chair. “I’m actually not gonna do this, I’m gonna try something else.” You sighed and stood up not bothering to close the equations. Not like anyone could understand it at first glance. Hell even when you looked at it you got lost, and you made it! 

You didn’t bother writing out the names and only followed the main branch of the family. What it looked like was a whole bunch of random letters with squares and some math. Total mumbo jumbo to anyone else. At least you hope, you know Otto assigned illiterate maids to you, that man really did think of everything, and no one else ever came into your room aside from Otto and Alicent who would look and give a hum before leaving. You doubted they understood this. Besides the initials of the family blended in with the punnet squares. 

The door opened and there stood a maid who looked like she was shaking. You raised a brow. You never had maids before but quickly came to understand that people here saw them less than human. Therefore, due to never having maids, you treated them fairly well, why this one was shaking you couldn’t say. “Bring me more bed covers. The white thin ones, a needle and thread, and bring me something to eat.” But alas you had bigger problems than a maid who looked scared of you. If anything, a fearsome reputation was better here. “Remember no meat, preferably vegetables and fruits washed with boiled water.” You didn’t trust the meat here, there was no refrigerator to keep the meat fresh and that meant bacteria. Now you were rarely one to get sick but your immune system, you reckon, was a lot weaker here and you were vulnerable to any sickness so keeping yourself healthy and clean was paramount especially because modern medicine didn’t exist here.

While the fan was nice you definitely wanted a cooler spot and you also needed a cold place to sleep so that you could cuddle into your blankets, relishing in your own body heat. For that, you were going to create a little pod that would have a constant flow of cool air. 

Soon that scared little maid from before came with bed sheets and a needle and thread. You smiled and walked over to her, going to take the things from her. Your hand brushed her hands and she flinched away before apologizing profusely. Alright that was doing a bit much. “What is it? Why are you scared?” 

She shook her head incessantly. Your patience was thinning and you tossed the things onto your bed. “You either tell me why you’re scared or I’m gonna give you a reason to be really scared of me.”

“They say you are rabid.” She spoke and looked like she was gonna start crying. This girl couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old.  

“Whaaaat?” Your brow lifted and you tilted your head looking at the girl. 

“They saw your mouth foaming every morning when the maids come to take away the bowls you have every morning. Not only that but they all claim you are mad as well. The mysterious symbols on the paper and of course you spend ample time talking to yourself and some even claim that being around you for too long makes them go mad as well as they can hear melodies coming from your room and then they begin humming the melody.” The maid spoke. 

You looked her up and down giving a slow blink and your mouth was open. No way, they're going to claim you are a witch! “Seriously?” You asked the young maid nodded feverishly. 

You scoffed and laughed. “What’s your name?” You asked with a grin on your face. 

“Dyana if it pleases m’lady.” She spoke out quickly while keeping her eyes on the floor. 

“Oh, like Wonder woman.” You commented looking her up and down and she had a confused expression on her face. “Well Dyana, let me show you something.” Your bowl of water was still here when you pulled out your toothbrush. “This is a toothbrush, it is to clean your teeth.” You gave a wide grin to give her a good look at your white clean teeth. “My teeth are in much better condition than everyone here and I’m sure my breath smells better, at least I hope. Does it?” You tilted your head with a brow raised.

Dyana nodded and you smiled. “Okay now look here, this is toothpaste.” You showed her the tube and squeezed a very small glob out. You already brushed your teeth today and your supply was limited. You made a mental note to discover how to create toothpaste. “Okay now you wet it and,” You began brushing your teeth and you saw Dyana’s eyes widen as white foam started to form on your teeth. “See?” You spoke with a mouth full. You spit it into the water and then began fully brushing your teeth. Once you were done you cleaned your face and rinsed your toothbrush. 

“I’m not rabid, I’ll have you know I am fully vaccinated. This is just part of me keeping clean. Along with that, people and animals with rabies are hydrophobic.” Dyana only stared and you gave a disappointed sigh. You can’t blame her for being uneducated but it got to a certain point where you were tired of explaining basic things. “Hydrophobia means one has an irrational fear of water and cannot physically consume it or even touch it. I would’ve died by now if I was rabid. The human body can only go about two days without water and as you can see it’s been well over a week.”  

She nodded trying to understand. “It’s in the name. Hydro is derived from the Latin root of the word "hydro" is hydr-, which comes from the Greek word hýdōr, meaning "water" then there's phobia meaning fear which is also derived from Latin as well and there is also a Greek version. Though that one is phobos which is fear in old greek. So if you put both together you get hydrophobia. Yeah?” You nodded trying to explain this to her and to your surprise she seemed very interested. Though a small hint of confusion clouded her face. 

“Latin and greek?” She asked almost like tasting the words on her tongue. 

“Yes, Latin is a base language forming other languages like Spanish, French, Portuguese, Italian, Catalan, and Romanian among others. It also is in some English or what you all call the common tongue. I just happen to be fluent in one the latin based language and so then that leads me to be very familiar with other latin based languages like the ones I just listed.” As you explained Dyana’s attention was on you absorbing everything you said like a sponge. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

“So how many tongues do you speak?” Dyana asked and you gave a smug smile. “Fluently, two, but I can carry basic conversations in French, Portuguese, and Italian.” It was a point of pride for you. 

“Very impressive m’lady. The royal family and the Valeryrons also speak another tongue, one from old Valyria. Majority speak Valyrian, like they do in the free cities.”

“Hm, I wonder what the base language is for it.” You nodded looking around the room. “Well did you have the kitchen prepare my food?” 

“Oh yes m’lady. Another maid should bring it.” Dyana responded by letting herself out. 

“No. I want you to bring it to me, Dyana. From now on, I only want you in my service. I will show you new things, if you want extra payment. Knowledge, especially here, is invaluable.” If everyone thought you were mad you couldn’t risk anyone messing with your food. Besides you didn’t know how hygienic the other maids were, at least you could teach Dyana basic hygiene and maybe she could spread it. You heard maids always gossiped. 

…

A scream woke up and you shot up shivering and wrapping your warm blanket around you but all you saw was white. “M’lady!” Dyana ran to you looking inside your little make-shift pod. 

“What is Dyana!? What is this madness!?” It was your first night trying out your latest invention. It had surprisingly taken you quite a while to sow everything tight enough so that now air would escape from the back or the sides. 

“Please forgive me m’lady I was simply surprised to see..this.” She gestured to your little pod. It must’ve looked strange seeing a white thing and not seeing you. Sighing you shook your head, though you quickly got out of bed to start preparing yourself for today.

As you were brushing your teeth you told Dyana to prepare a carriage for the dragon pit. 

“Why are you going to the dragon pit m’lady?” You looked up to her and smiled foam covering your mouth. 

“I’m going to go claim my winnings, Dyana and perhaps the favor of a Prince.” You spit and rinse your mouth. 

“Do you need help dressing?” Dyana looked concerned looking towards you. She hadn’t had the best experience with the one prince she had worked for, though you didn’t know that. She hoped it wasn’t Aegon that you were meeting. 

“No, but once you’re done arranging for a carriage or horse, it doesn't matter, bring me a cloak.” You ordered and Dyana bowed as you began preparing yourself for the day. Doing light makeup and taking out the only other outfit you had in your suitcase. Pulling out black capris and a brown ​​sleeveless halter top with a draped neckline you smiled. If this went right, you’d score more than the spoils of a bet. 

Fixing the small bits of hair you looked at yourself through your hand mirror. A shame they didn’t have bigger mirrors. You heard a gasp from behind and you saw Dyana with a black cloak in her hands. “M’lady, are you sure you should go out dressed in such a manner?”

“He told me to come in pants and I haven’t washed my other pants yet.” You shrugged, took your coat and slipped on the only shoes you had which were some sandals that you wore the day you fell off that bridge. Goosebumps coated your body as you thought about the unfortunate events that took place that day.

“Okay Dyana take me to the carriage. When you come back, clean my room, but don’t touch the desk, also please wash the sheets and once you’re done take the rest of the day off and when I return we can resume your lessons. If you finish before I’m back then feel free to continue learning the basics of English literature or simply relax, okay?” You spoke as you both walked to the courtyard where your ride was waiting. 

As you stepped outside you gagged. “God it smells like shit.” Taking out a small perfume bottle you always kept on you, you sprayed some on the collar of the cloak so that you could smell it while you rode through the city. Walking to the carriage you covered your nose while the coachman greeted you. You have a smile but you doubt he saw it. 

“M’lady.” He opened the door for you and you nodded speaking out a muffled thank you. As you sat in the carriage you closed all the windows and kept your nose covered but as it moved you began to feel sick. The smell and not being able to see that you were moving were doing a real number on your motion sickness. You heard the clattering outside and you wished you could go faster. 

You simply closed your eyes trying to recenter yourself and inhaling the perfumed cloak. It was the longest thirty minutes of your life. The door opened and instead of the smell of feces it now smelled like a cow farm. 

“Good Lord! Is there anywhere that smells just normal?” You muttered out making your way out. As you stood a wave of nausea hit you like a bus and you gagged once more. A hand extended and you took it. You looked up towards Jacaerys and he gave a smile while greeting you. You’d return it but you turned around before you could and gagged once more, only there was nothing to throw up as you gripped the side of the carriage. 

Damn medieval times. 

“Yeah, just uh…give me a second,” You gagged again. Desperately you wanted to throw something up to get rid of this headache that was starting to form.  “Sorry, motion sickness, and the city doesn’t exactly smell the best.” You reassured him. 

“You’d like it better on Dragon Stone.” He spoke in a low-tone and your brows shot up, not that he could see and if it wasn’t for you trying to throw up you’d say something back to encourage his implications. Instead all you could offer was a small hum before composing yourself and turning around facing him with a smile as you took off your hood. 

Time to focus, you were winning this bet and reaping your reward. “Sorry. Okay now, let's go see that wager.” Jacaerys offered his hand with a smile and you took it. You walked to the Dragon pit. 

“I want you to meet my dragon, Vermax.” You fought scoffing. Yes, it would be cool to see a komodo dragon but come on, if that was the best he could offer you so had this in the bag. Though you were quickly made to eat your words as the ground shook below you and your jaw dropped as a big olive-green with orange frills and orange eyes walked out from the dark pit. The only thing you could say was ask the most obvious question with the most obvious answer. 

“IS THAT A DRAGON!?”

“It is my lady.” Jacaerys let go of your hand walking to his dragon as it bumped its snout against Jacaerys. You stood still unable to process what you were seeing. This was a dragon, a real dragon. With wings and everything. Your words were caught in your throat and you felt like crying. It was overwhelming and you didn’t know what you were feeling. You felt your eyes water just a bit before blinking them away. 

Jacaerys frowned and quickly went to your side to ask if you were alright. As he stood next to you, you were quick to smell the dragon’s scent on him, but honestly that was the last thing on your mind. “Are you crying? I do apologize to my lady, I swear it, he will not harm you. We can leave if you’d like.”

“No! No, it’s just, that.. that’s a dragon!” You looked towards it with a smile. “A real dragon, like with…like, like, like with wings and, and…wait! Can it breathe fire?” You asked him and the smile on Jacaerys’s face said it all. 

He pulled you to the side. “Vermax! Dracarys!” You watched in awe as the dragon breathed hot flames that you felt the heat even if the dragon was blowing them in the air. 

You laughed looking towards Jace who shared your smile. “Oh my god!? Oh my goodness! This is- wha-!?” Words escaped you. You didn’t know how to describe this. “I fear the words I feel right now have not yet been invented.” 

“Yes, a dragon certainly makes for quite a sight.” He laughed as he held you close to him making sure Vermax knew not to harm you.

“Quite a sight!? No this is- this is! I can’t even say!” You tore yourself from Jacaerys’s grip and you turned to face him with a smile. “Y’know, imma pretty sore loser and I don’t admit defeat often, but this-” You turned around gesturing to his dragon. “I reckon you might just have me beat.”

“I thought you had dragons,” He spoke with a smug smile on his face but at this moment you couldn’t bring yourself to comment on it.

“Not like this. This is something straight outta a fairy tale.” You smiled looking towards the majestic creature. When you first woke here, you saw silhouettes but you thought you were just hallucinating. It was unthinkable that dragons were real. You paused to think. If dragons existed here, then what else was here in this world. Was there actual magic here? There was so much to learn!

“I was going to take you on dragonback. Of course if you-” Jacaerys coaxed you looking down towards you. 

“Say no more, say no more, say no more,” You spoke rapidly. “How do I get on?” You smiled towards him. Like hell you’d miss the chance to ride a dragon.

“Are you sure you are ready for it?” Jacaerys offered you a chance to back out. Were you scared of heights? Yes, but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If you fell, you’d die happy or maybe you’d get sent back home. Either way, no way you were missing this chance. 

“You could even take me Dragon Stone and show me why I’d like it more than here.” You offered with a teasing smile to encourage him. You saw him stiffen just a bit before giving a small shy smile and nodding. 

Walking behind you he took your hand extending it to the dragon. You closed your eyes looking away as you kept your hand out. You felt like Hiccup from How to Train a Dragon. 

You felt warm scales on your hand. Opening your eyes looking into the orange eyes. You breathed out a sigh of relief as you rubbed the dragon, a smile growing on your face. 

“Hi,” You spoke in a sweet tone like you did to all animals that you came across. “Hi baby,” You stepped closer pressing yourself against the dragon petting it and giving small scratches where dogs usually enjoyed it and you felt your body rumble as the dragon let out a sound. You gave a giggle, mumbling out praises in Spanish with a baby voice. You had forgotten Jacaerys was behind you until you heard a little laugh and you cringed. 

Damn!

Your face felt hot as you felt shame creep up on you. You cleared your throat giving one more pat before turning around. “Okay… you didn’t see that.” You walked away from him and Jacaerys followed.

“I’m afraid I did, My Lady.” He spoke with a smile and you rolled your eyes. 

“Kay, let's not. Now how do I get on?” You spoke trying to erase the embarrassing moment away. 

“Here my lady.” He climbed up the dragon helping you up. You sat behind him looking around for any kind of safety measure and to your displeasure there wasn’t any. Listen, yes you had just said you’d be fine dying but that doesn’t mean you wanted to.

“Where are the seatbelts?” You asked him and he turned to you, raising a brow. 

“Seatbelt?” He laughed out loud. He didn't know what those were.

“Safety measures?” You tried again only to be met with the same look. 

You sighed. Of course that didn’t exist yet, but they had to stay on somehow. “How do you stay on?”

“You hold on tight.” He gave a grin. 

“What!?” And before you could register Vermax moved forward. You gave a scream and hugged Jacaerys’s waist holding yourself close to him. “This is barbaric!” You yelped out and the only response you got was his laugh.

“Soves Vermax.” Jacaerys called and you recognized the wording it sounded similar to some word that you know meant fly. As Vermax continued forward and opened his wings, you definitely now knew what the word meant. 

You groaned as the wind pushed against you and you felt gravity push you down as Vermax lifted himself into the sky. You gripped Jacaerys clothes as hard as you could and suddenly your cloak flew off. 

“Oops!” You turned and watched your cloak fly off in the distance. “Oh well…” You murmured turning back and pressing the side of your face on Jacaerys back. 

You felt him look back towards you. He saw your face pressed against him as your eyes were squinted trying to adjust to the harsh wind.

“Not many can keep their eyes open on their first flight.” He spoke as Vermax finally steadied in the air. 

You furrowed your brows looking up towards him. “You’ve brought other women up here with you before?” 

Jacaerys stiffened and shook his head. “No.”

“Then how do you know?” You asked him. 

“When I first took my brother Joffrey up with me, he couldn’t keep his eyes open.” He responded with a smile recalling the memory. 

“Oh.” It was all you said before resting your face against him once more looking down towards the ocean. “How far is Dragon Stone?” You asked and he leaned back looking towards you again. 

“Not far on Dragonback but about a week's trip on ship.” He responded, turning back to steer Vermax up again to feel you hold on to him tighter. It was a little mischievous but he figured no one else was around to see, so it was fine. 

Finally breaking through the clouds you let out a sound of wonder looking through the clouds. “Yeah I think you might’ve just won this wager.” 

Jacaerys only responded with a laugh. 

You inhaled the clean air. Much better than King’s Landing. “It is better up here. Fresher…” You breathed out a jittery breath. “But colder.” You missed your cloak. 

“We’ll be there soon.” Jacaerys spoke and you hummed and nodded trying to take in the rays of sun trying to ignore the cold air. 

For the flight you both stayed quiet as you took in his body heat trying to warm yourself. The sight was truly breath-taking. 

“We’re here.” You heard Jacaerys speak and you looked over his shoulder seeing the grand castle. 

“Woah, nice place.” You commented but you felt your stomach drop as you saw Vermax’s head angle itself down. “Wait wait wait!” You screamed as Vermax dove. Just as you dove, you felt him steady out and you shook as Vermax landed. “Oh god,” You breathed out as you kept your tight grip on Jacaerys even though Vermax had now landed. 

A cold gust of wind chilled you. You regret wearing this sleeveless halter top. You don’t how long you stayed attached to Jacaerys before he asked if you were okay. You didn’t trust yourself to speak so you only nodded into his back. 

“Ready to get down?” He asked and once more you nodded. He slid down Vermax’s wing landing on a soft patch of grass. As he looked up his breath hitched. Once again Jacaerys looked away while helping you down. 

He heard a laugh from you and turned to you. “Don’t be such a prude, they’re just clothes.” You flicked his forehead and he rubbed it when you turned away as Vermax flew away. 

“So this is Dragon Stone?” You asked, looking around. He had taken you to the highest point of Dragon Stone away from the actual castle. He’d rather his mother didn’t find out about this little flight you two took. Daemon already didn’t like you and his mother was skeptical of you ever since you showed up that night in a green dress. 

“It is. Do you like it?” He mumbled as he stood behind you. He saw you nod and turn to him with a smile. You looked quite nice today, even if your hair was messy from the wind and your clothes brought up a feeling he’d rather not look into. 

“I do. You were right, this place is much better than King’s Landing. Smells a lot better here.” You sat down on the grass looking towards the sea and he saw your face drop a bit. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting next to you. 

“I came here by sea. Sometimes I wonder if I can go back by sea.” You spoke never facing him. 

“You want to go back?” Jacaerys asked and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

“Why wouldn’t I? I miss my home, my family, my friends, and there was a guy I was pining after too.’ You purse your lips nodding looking at him. 

Once again another emotion Jacaerys would rather not name came up when you mentioned you wanted to be courted by someone else. This was wrong. He was promised to Baela. He shouldn’t feel this way, he shouldn’t have brought you here. Though Jacaerys could not find it in him to regret bringing you here. 

He sighed and turned away from you. “What is..your home like?” Would it hurt to know more about you? No he doesn’t think so. (Yes it does.)

You smiled. “My home is…very different from here. We don’t have dragons for one.” You giggled out. “But we have airplanes and cars. Modern technology I think would really shock you.” You turned to him only to find him already facing you. This time however, Jacaerys did not look away from you and all of a sudden you felt your face grow hot. You coughed out a laugh. “Obviously as you can see our clothes are different and our music is different and we have movies and TV shows.” 

“What are cars and airplanes, and movies and TV shows?” He asked. They were words he never heard before but was eager to learn. 

“Well…” For the next couple of hours you both spent speaking to each other about where you came from and explaining how your modern life was. Everything from schooling systems, water systems, judicial systems, the government and of course spoke about global issues such as wars and global warming. 

“It sounds…complicated.” Was all he could say. Weapons of war that could wipe out an entire city four times the size of King’s Landing, cities that housed millions of people, the planet heating up too fast, and the obvious power struggle between countries among other things you mentioned. Of course there were also the good things such as it smelled a lot better where you came from due to ‘sewer systems’ and proper hygiene. 

“It is and sometimes it is overwhelming thinking of it. It takes a lot to make an impact in the world now, but it’s what I want to do. That’s why I have to go back. I need to continue my schooling so that I can specialize in a field and perhaps one day develop something new that will have my name in history books and something will make me a lot of money.” You smiled towards the end of your sentence. 

“Can’t you do that here?” He mumbled out looking away from you. “The King already looks much better since you’ve arrived.” It was wrong, he shouldn’t try to convince you to stay here. You had a home and that was where you belonged, though a part of him wished to see you here. He was curious about you and for now that was all Jacaerys was willing to admit.

He began to grow nervous as you stayed silent. Perhaps he had offended you. “I apologize my lady, I misspoke-” 

“No—you’re right.” You cut him off looking towards him and slowly a smile grew on your face. “Here, I can…I can change everything. If I change the course of time, I can start feminism early! I can name the Roman water system after me and no one would think anything of it!” You leaned over to Jacaerys and grabbed his shoulders with a grin. “Do you know what this means!?” 

He only blinked towards looking towards you trying to process your touch on him and of course your words. “I can basically be Barbie!” You let go of him and covered your mouth. “Why haven't I thought of this before!? I’d be like a legend here! The things I can make! Pray tell I’m not the best at plans but…just maybe,” Yes you wanted to go home, but the chance you could make a big change was less likely there. But here! Here you could be whatever you wanted because you could make the rules here, all you would need is a position of power and influence. Make good deeds with commoners and you’d become one of the most important figures of history while being a woman. Big plus for feminism and while it wouldn’t all change in one life-time, if you can plant the seed here and now, there's no telling the impact it will have in the future and it would be all because of you. 

Jacaerys watched you go deep into thought and while he didn't know what a ‘Barbie’ was or feminism he did know that he no longer felt guilty for bringing you here if it convinced you to stay. 

“You’re a genius, Jacaerys , you know that?” You asked him, smiling. “You just gave this place the best gift you could ever give. It’ll for sure elevate the opinion of the common people for you since you’re in line for the throne. I’m going to introduce so many things! Mendelian genetics? No genetics! Darwinism? No, me-ism, I’m gonna name everything after me!” You smiled. “I’ll probably have to get creative so that not everything sounds the same, like Alexander the Great did with the library of Alexandria and all those other cities. Yes…” 

Jacaerys smiled and stood up offering his hand to you. “It is getting late, perhaps we should return to King’s Landing.” He watched you put on a bit. 

“I don’t wanna go back yet. I like it here, it’s cold and well the air is cleaner.” You looked up towards him as you laid back onto the floor looking at the darkening skies as the stars became visible. “The stars are never this clear where I come from…” You trailed off looking up with a small smile. Jacaerys sighed and laid down beside you looking towards the stars that became more visible by the minute.

“We’ll get in trouble if we don’t return soon.” Jace spoke and while he would rather stay here, he’d rather not have his mom ask him questions about why he was with you. 

You turned to him with a smile on your face and you touched his hair that was becoming overgrown. “You should keep growing out your hair, it looks better longer.” Jacaerys breath hitched as he felt your cold fingertips lightly graze his forehead. He watched you smile once more before looking back up towards the stars. 

He coughed and looked away from you.

Jacaerys doesn’t know how long you both stayed laid out on the grass watching the stars. It was only when he felt his eyes closing that he realized how long had passed as he now registered how dark it was. He jerked his head over to you seeing that your eyes were closed and your breathing was slow. He called your name a couple of times before you finally opened your eyes. 

“Hm?” You looked over as your eyes adjusted to the dark. You began stretching and took a deep breath of the clean air before relaxing once more looking up at the starry night. 

“It’s really late…” Jacaerys whispered. 

“Oh yeah…” You sat up looking around. You took in a shaky deep breath. It was cold. “Welp let's go back.”

“You’re not worried?” He asked as you both walked down the mountain. 

“No, why would I?” You were a little, surly Otto and Alicent would have questions. 

“What others would think about you being out so late with a man. Rumors spread when an unmarried man and woman are together.” He walked next to you seeing you shiver just a little. He was unsure if he should give you his coat, after the comment he just made. 

You shrugged. “Let them speak. What does it matter? You’re a prince and I am someone who they will never hope to reach. If I began to care what others thought of me, then I would not be someone who is ready for the success I am to bring here.” 

Finally you reached Vermax.

“Naejott Vermax” He spoke and you looked over. That’s right, Dyana had told you Targeyens spoke a different language. 

“Is that Valyrian?” You asked as Vermax came closer to you both. 

Jacaerys nodded. “Do you speak it?”

“I think I could recognize some words.” You smiled up at him as you grabbed onto Vermax taking in his warmth.

“Can you?” Jacaerys challenged.

“I’m pretty good at Latin languages, give me your best shot.” You grinned. Surely if you could recognize ‘songs’ you’d do pretty good.

“Rytsas.” Jacaerys spoke and your confidence went down slightly. You had no idea what that meant. 

“I need a sentence.” You tired again, no way you’d get something from just a word.

“Ñuho lento naejot guēse rōvēgrie issa.” Jacaerys spoke once more with a smile. 

“Damn…gotta stop setting myself up for failure.” You mumbled. Thankfully it was dark so he wouldn’t be able to see your shame creeping onto your face. “...I don’t know.” You tried to give a little laugh at the end. 

“The first phase was hello and the second I was telling you that there was a big tree in front of my home.” He laughed starting to take off his coat seeing as you were clinging to Vermax for dear life trying to warm yourself. 

“Never would’ve guessed.” You gave a smile trying to keep yourself from shivering. 

“Here,” Jacaerys offered you his coat and though you wanted to take it, it felt wrong.

“You’d be cold then,” You objected.

“I have more layers on.” He reasoned and nodded as you took the coat, wrapping it around yourself. 

“Can I go in front this time?” You asked as you climbed onto Vermax. 

He gave a hum thinking it over before nodding. “I’ll be steering though.” 

“That’s fine, I just want to be in front.” You nodded as Jacaerys sat behind you and suddenly he began to regret letting you sit in front. He would have to reach over you to keep a hold of Vermax meaning he would have to lean on top of you, but it was too late to say anything. 

He leaned over you and you bent forward consequently pressing your backside against him. He gave a cough trying to cover the groan. He’s never even been this close to a woman, much less in this position. It was going to be a rough ride home. 

…

“Thank you, it was nice.” You whispered out as you both snuck back into Red Keep. You both stood still in a dark corner to avoid being seen by anyone who roamed the halls. Jacaerys nodded fast hoping to leave his room and fast. He had grown painfully hard as the ride kept you snuggly against him and honestly it was starting to hurt. Though a part of his hopes you felt him against you. 

Looking down towards you while you were in his coat and smell of his dragon with your sweet scent tangled with each other, his mind was quickly becoming clouded with lust. Perhaps that is why he spoke in such a bold manner. “You told me you’d give me anything, no? As for our deal?” He whispered out looking around. 

He watched you smile. “You haven’t seen my surprise yet.” 

“I thought you said I won?” He breathed heavily clenching his fists trying to keep himself in check. 

“You still haven’t seen it, tell you what though, tomorrow night, come to my chambers and I’ll show you. I’ll make it worth your time.” You smiled and walked unknowing you left him with a very big problem to solve when he got to his own chambers. 

Note: This was a lot longer than I thought it would be. Also pls keep asking me things I quite enjoy responding to them!

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To be added to 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 𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑦𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑛 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

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 55

Masterlist

Chapter 54.5

And we get to the rest of the events of Season 1. And there might be some budding feelings beginning to development between Aemma and Aemond *nudge, nudge, wink, wink*(though that's not exactly obvious right now in the chapter).

Aemma flew across the Great Sea, urging Cirillia to pick up speed as she got closer to Westeros, specifically, to Dragonstone.

Back in Vergen, upon you learning that Daemon had taken Rhaenyra as his wife, Aemma gave you the brief description of her father's marital history. After the death of Rhea Royce as the result of a...mysterious accident, Daemon shortly married Laena and had twin daughters together- Aemma's sisters. You had shed a good number of tears finding out Laena died in childbirth as you had fond memories of the Velaryon woman when you first met her at court when she was still a child. There were also tears shed for Ser Laenor when you learned of his death (also worth noting the smug look Aemond had when Aemma told you about the children Rhaenyra had with Laenor). Now, having learned Daemon had married Rhaenyra (something that didn't exactly surprise you given how uncomfortably close the two were at times), the moment Aemma brought up that Daemon might still be continuing this pattern of behavior, you were starting to have some concerns as well.

You also fond memories of Rhaenyra, and hoped she wasn't facing Daemon's wrath the same way you had. It's also worth mentioning you noticed the indifference in Aemond when having this conversation with your daughter, how he didn't exactly seem to show much over the possibility that his sister could be getting hurt.

It didn't go unnoticed by Aemma who confronted him afterwards in private. The argument was still fresh in Aemma's mind as she flew back to Dragonstone.

"Are you not the least bit concerned?" She had asked with a stern tone, "if Daemon is harming your sister the same way he was hurting my mother, we-" "Half sister," Aemond corrects in a soft yet low tone.

"What?" "Rhaenyra is my HALF-sister," Aemond says with a firmer tone this time. Aemma saw the anger in his eyes from mentioning her name. "Baela and Rhaena are my half-sisters, but they're still my sisters all the same," Aemma points out, to which Aemond scoffs.

"Doesn't matter," Aemond sneers, "whatever Daemon does to Rhaenyra, it's not like she wasn't asking for it. She married my uncle rather shortly after Laenor's death, she probably wanted it."

"How can you be so callous about it all?" Aemond gave Aemma a dangerous glare, approaching his cousin with a scowl on his face, "...have you forgotten what my 'sister's' children did to me?" he asks saying 'sister' with a venom laced tone. He pointed a finger to his eye patch for emphasis, "have you forgotten what my own father did that night while my eye was stitched closed by the maester, how he stood there and did nothing? How Lucerys got away with maiming me that night? How Rhaenyra turned the king against me-" "Because you called her sons bastards," Aemma points out. "Which is what they are!" Aemond exclaims. "I'm a bastard too, Aemond, I was Aemma Waters before your father declared me a true-born Targaryen."

Aemond scoffed once more, feeling like Aemma still didn't get it, she still didn't understand. "Aemond, I know what happened was wrong, but Luke was just a child, he was scared-" "I was a child as well! I was a boy of 10 when he put out my eye!" "Luke didn't-" Aemma stopped herself before she could refute what really happened. To this day, Aemond still believed Lucerys came at him with the intent of slashing his eye, but Aemma that wasn't the case at all. She screamed, she didn't know how to control her gift at that time, and it caused Luke to slip and maim Aemond rather than just leave a scar.

She wanted to tell Aemond that it was her who caused his eye to be lost, but also recalled the last time she tried that, how it all went to seven hells. How it drove her away from the home she once knew, how it caused this rift between the two of them.

"...do want you want," Aemma told him in a low tone, "But I'm going. You may not have had the kind of relationship I had with Rhaenyra, but we were fairly close, she took me riding on Syrax before Cirillia was first fitted with a saddle. She...she was the one who chose Cirillia's egg. And I know Jace and Luke weren't exactly the best people to you even before...Driftmark...but I had fond memories of them from when we were children. I don't want to see them get hurt because of my father. Them, my sisters, or any of the children Rhaenyra has had with him. I need to stop him before he can do any further damage."

Aemma turned around, her back facing her cousin, "you can tell your mother whatever you want. Just let her know I'm finally coming home."

Cirillia roared, getting Aemma out of her thoughts. In the distance she saw the castle up ahead. Dragonstone. Despite everything she learned, Aemma strangely had a sense of homecoming. It had been six years after all, and Aemma had fond memories of her time in this place. This was where she first rode Cirillia, the place where she met Laena as her stepmother for the first time, the place where she first met Vhagar, and it was the place where her sisters were born. Aemma had to wonder if Cirillia felt the same way, considering she had been living here while Aemma was running around the Continent.

She then began to remember the conversation she had with her mother prior to her departure.

"Aemma, you don't have to do this," you had told her. "He needs to answer for what he has done to you," Aemma insists, "I'll...if he won't confess, I'll go to my uncle the King, he can make him see sense, especially if this concerns his favorite daughter." "Aemma, it won't work," you tell her, "Aemma, believe me I...your father has gotten away with so much, and your uncle had let him." "Well maybe he didn't know," Aemma tries to reason, "if he knew the vile things father had done, he would've done something then." "Aemma, Viserys knew!"

Aemma stopped in her tracks, "That night in the Red Keep, before the escape, I confessed to Viserys why I left in the first place when I was pregnant with you. I told him why I was forced back to King's Landing, that Daemon had threatened to have Caraxes burn Kaer Morhen to the ground if we didn't return with him. I didn't tell him about anything else, but he must've known on some level what was happening. He's not going to do anything about it. No one is going to hold Daemon accountable for his actions. I had to make my peace with that a long time ago, that...that he could move on despite everything, despite the destruction he had left in his wake. I had to make peace with that because if I didn't, that thought would consume me and destroy me from the inside. It doesn't matter what recourse there is, your father is not going to see justice. I know this."

Aemma had a thoughtful look on her face, taking into account what you had just said, "I still have to try," she says, "at least for Rhaenyra and for my sisters...and for Laena as well." You saw the determined look on your daughter's face and knew there wouldn't be any talking her out of this. As much as you wanted to protect Aemma, she was an adult now. She would need to make her own decisions and her own mistakes so as to learn from them. If it meant having to learn the hard way that her father is never going to be disciplined or held accountable for everything he has done as the king's brother and a prince of the realm, then so be it.

You sigh and take your daughter's arms, holding them, "if you feel this is what you must do...then I won't stop you. Just...be careful, Aemma." "I can take care of myself, mother," Aemma assures, "I'll come back to you. I promise." "I won't be staying here," you tell her. "Where will you go?" "...Jaskier said he had some things to see to in Novigrad, apparently he has come to inherit something over there, an establishment. I'll accompany him there." "Is Geralt not going with you?" "Not yet," you say, remembering the brief conversation you had with the witcher, "Geralt has business to tend to with a mutual friend of ours." "Will you be alright there?" Aemma asks. "I'll be fine," you assure, "I spent a good amount of time in Novigrad long before my time in King's Landing. I made plenty of friends there, and it'll be a good time to get back in touch with them. Take care of yourself, little love. I'll miss you."

Aemma pulled you into a hug, "it won't take 16 years this time around," she vows, "We will see each other again." You nod, keeping your daughter in your embrace for just a little while longer, hoping that indeed won't be the case.

Right on cue, another dragon's roar got Aemma's attention. She turned her head to see a smaller white dragon flying alongside her and Cirillia. Astride the young dragon was a boy with short dark hair. The boy turned and made eye contact with Aemma, his eyes widen when he saw who it was riding the she-dragon. Aemma had a similar reaction. She recognized the dragon to be Arrax, and his rider...was Lucerys.

"Aemma!" Luke calls out, Arrax roaring in response. "Lucerys!" Aemma calls back. Cirillia spots the beach and starts making her descent to the ground.

As Aemma got closer to the ground, she saw another person walking the beach. Aemma had to squint a bit to see a young woman, younger than her, wearing a long black and red dress with dark skin and silver blonde hair in locks. Aemma recognized her right away, 'Rhaena!" she calls out.

Rhaena, who had come out from the castle upon seeing Cirillia returning, took a look and saw the one person atop the dragon she had been wanting to see for so long. At first Rhaena thought she had been hearing things, but the moment she saw her older sister, she was now convinced this had to be a dream.

Cirillia landed on the beach a good number of yards away, having Rhaena lift her skirts past her ankles so she could run comfortably towards the dragon. Aemma dismounted to see her sister running towards her.

"Rhaena!" Aemma called out again, putting her arms out as her sister practically jumped into her arms. "Aemma, you're here!" Rhaena sobbed out, pulling Aemma close, "my sister! You came home!" "I missed you too Rhaena," Aemma says, feeling her eyes moisten some, having realized how much she missed her sister. She and Rhaena had actually been close as children, closer than she was to Baela even.

"Aemma...I am so sorry," Rhaena sobs some more, "I'm sorry." "Whatever for?" Aemma asks, feeling confused. Rhaena pulled away, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her dress, "I said cruel things to you," she sniffles, "I made accusations about you knowing about Vhagar and...I drove you away. I'm sorry, Aemma. I hope you can forgive me." "Rhaena..." Aemma sighs, realizing what her sister was speaking of. Rhaena had been angry that the chance to claim Vhagar was taken from her, angry that her sister didn't try and stop Aemond from doing so.

"Rhaena, I...I didn't leave because of that. That was never my reason. There were other forces at work." "I don't understand. Why did you leave? Where did you go?" "I'll explain it another time," Aemma assures, pulling Rhaena in for another hug, feeling this may not be the best time to tell her everything she learned, "I'm just so happy to see you again. I've missed you and Baela the while I was gone. How has Baela been doing?"

Rhaena shakes her head in response, "I haven't seen Baela since grandmother took her to ward. We've been writing to each other, but the last letter I sent her, I had no response. I told her Cirillia had left Dragonstone in a hurry. I..the way she took off, I thought something terrible had happened to you. I was about to assume the worst."

Aemma understood why Rhaena would make that assumption, remembering when Cirillia had flown off to find Vhagar when Aemma came to the Continent the first time around, when she was captured by the Crones.

"I'm the one who should say sorry," Aemma says, "I didn't mean to cause worry to you again. I'm here now, Rhaena. I'm not going anywhere right now." Rhaena nods, hugging her sister again. "How fares everyone else?" Aemma asks.

"I heard that...our father remarried. Princess Rhaenyra yes?" Rhaena nods, "they wedded shortly after Uncle Laenor passed." "They had children together?" "Two sons," Rhaena confirms, "Aegon and Viserys. And our stepmother is expecting another child soon."

"And...father? Where is he?" "Likely scaling the Dragonmount again," Rhaena tells her, "he's been collecting eggs for the incubation chambers." "Oh! That reminds me."

Aemma ran over to Cirillia's saddle, grabbing the sack. Cirillia meanwhile stretched her neck towards Rhaena, allowing the young Targaryen woman to pat her snout.

Aemma ran over to Rhaena, pulling out the eggs. "Are those...?" "Cirillia's," Aemma confirms with excitement. Rhaena's eyes widen in realization, "it's her fist clutch. That explains her behavior before her abrupt departure. I've been visiting Cirillia frequently when you were gone. She was eating a lot more sheep recently." "There's three of them," Aemma tells her, "I...have you had any luck claiming a dragon? Or hatching your own?"

Rhaena shook her head, disappointment in herself that she still had no dragon of her own as the rest of her siblings.

"It's okay, Rhaena," Aemma assures, looking at the eggs in her hold, "if you want...there's three eggs here, maybe you can have one." "Aemma...you mean it?" "Of course," Aemma says with a smile, "you're my sister, it's only right you get the first pick. Any of these calling to you?"

Rhaena intently examined the eggs. The pink one she found to be the most appealing. She's always liked the color pink. Rhaena took that egg from Aemma, holding it close to her chest as if to cherish this amazing gift. "I had a feeling you would choose that one," Aemma jokes, "I thought about you the moment I first saw this." Rhaena chuckled in response, "thank you," she says, "I think this might be the one."

"Aemma!" the girls hear Lucerys' voice as he runs towards them. "Lucerys!" Aemma calls back, right as Luke practically leaped towards her for hug. "Sister! You have returned!" "Luke, watch the eggs," Aemma warns, trying to get a breath from Luke's crushing hold. "Oh, sorry," Luke pulls away realizing the eggs in Aemma's hold, "are these Cirillia's?" "They are," Aemma nods, "There's three. I gave one to Rhaena already." "Where were you? Where did you go? Do you realize how long it has been?" Lucerys starts frantically asking questions. "Lucerys, slow down, give Aemma some space," Rhaena scolds, though there was no heat to it. "It's alright," Aemma assures, turning to give Luke an answer, "I was on the Continent for the last six years." "Why?" "I...I'll tell you later," Aemma tells him, "but first, I would like to see everyone else. Where's Jaecerys? He must be a man grown by now."

"He's probably still going over his Valyrian lessons," Luke tells her, "he's been adamant about mastering the language as of late, especially if he is to sit the Iron Throne someday."

Aemma nods and allows Luke to lead her and Rhaena to the castle.

---------------

Back inside the council room, Jaecerys was pacing as he went over his Valyrian lessons with his tutor.

Aemma had walked in right around the time Jace was working on pronouncing certain words. She had to take a moment to realize this wasn't the same little boy she knew back in King's Landing. Like Aemond, Jace was a man grown now; taller, leaner. One difference was his dark hair was still as short as it was since he was a boy.

Jace was now trying to pronounce one Valyrian word but was having some trouble.

"You need to work on rolling your R's, Jaecerys," Aemma speaks up,repeating a critique she have of Jace's pronunciation from when they were children, getting the young man to face her with shock, "strangely refreshing to see some things haven't changed."

"Aemma?" "Yes, Jace, it's me," Aemma nods with a small smile. Smiling wide, Jace runs over, pulling Aemma in for a hug, "Sister! It is so good to see you again. Where did you go? Do you know how long it's been?" "I've already been subjected to that line of questioning from both Rhaena and Luke," Aemma jokes, "it's good to see you too as well, Jace. You've really grown. Last I saw you, I was the one towering over you." "Much has changed since last you were here," Jace admits, smile turning somewhat sad thinking about the events that transpired six years ago in the aftermath of Driftmark.

"I heard," Aemma tells him, "I was sad when I heard what befell Ser Laenor. I know he was very much a father to you." "He loved us all," Jace says. "I'm...I didn't get to say this before but...I'm also sorry about what happened to Ser Harwin." Aemma didn't say anymore, but she saw the look on Jace's face, which meant he knew what she was implying. Nothing else needed to be spoken more of that matter.

Luke and Rhaena walked in, wide smiles as they joined their siblings in this reunion.

"Aemma," Luke calls out. Aemma turned to see Luke was holding her sword, "Luke, where did you get that?" "It fell off Cirillia's saddle," Luke explains, handing the sword to Aemma, "it's a little heavier than I was expecting. Is it yours?" "It's made of silver," Rhaena states, "Like your mother's dagger. Where...where did you get it?"

"So, where did you run off to after all this time?" Jace asks. Rhaena and Luke now give Aemma certain looks, expecting her to answer them now that there were more of them.

Aemma had to think about what to tell them. She wasn't sure if they needed to know everything just yet. She wasn't even sure if she could tell them her mother was alive. As much as Aemma loved them, she didn't know what the current situation was on Dragonstone, especially where her father was concerned.

She couldn't tell them truth just yet...but she didn't want to lie to them. So, she decided to take a middle ground approach.

"I...I spent the last six years traversing the Continent." "Whatever for?" Luke asks, frowning a bit. "I...wanted learn more about my mother," she answers, "I wasn't getting any answers here, so I thought I could find out more about her in her homelands. I...I met a lot of people there who knew her. They had many stories to tell of her. I...also learned she had a brother. Uncle Jaskier. He's a bard like she was. He welcomed me with open arms, we had much to talk about. I think you all would like him as much as he would like you."

The siblings made small smiles in response. "What's the story behind the sword?" Jace asks. "It was crafted by a silversmith," Aemma answers; a slight lie as Vesemir was not a silversmith, but he made it for her all the same, "he told me it was dangerous for a woman to travel this world alone, and should be well defended."

"What's all the commotion?" a woman's voice get the siblings' attention. "Mother!" Jace calls out, "look who's here?" he brings Aemma aside. "...Aemma!" Rhaenyra exclaims in shock, "you're...you're home."

"Rhaenyra!" Aemma says, shocked as she was, "Uh- I mean...I should probably call you mother now." "...I would like that very much," Rhaenyra says with a smile, gesturing for Aemma to approach so she could pull her in for a hug. "I have missed you," Rhaenyra whispers, giving Aemma a kiss to her temple, "We all missed you."

Aemma took a look at Rhaenyra as she pulled back. Her cousin- her new stepmother- was looking well. She was practically glowing with motherhood now that her new baby bump was starting to become more visible.

Aemma didn't see any visible signs that Rhaenyra was being harmed, yet Aemma still had doubts. Some part of was beginning to contemplate if Rhaenyra was aware of the things Daemon had done in the past, especially where the Lady of Larks was concerned. They've been married for six years now, would Daemon have even disclosed such things to his niece-wife?

"You look well mother," Aemma says. "As do you," Rhaenyra says, "although it looks like you haven't had a decent meal for some time. I'll have the cooks prepare something." "Thank you, mother," Aemma nods, "but before I eat. I uh, I heard I had brothers. I would like to meet them."

Rhaenyra looked to her sons and stepdaughter and then looked back to Aemma, giving her a small smile.

"Of course. I'm sure they would like to meet you as well."

Rhaenyra gestures for the adolescents to follow her to the nursery.

Inside Joffery was sitting on the floor with a maid, playing with his toys. The young boy got up, running over to Jace and Luke the moment he saw his brothers. Joffery stopped when he saw Aemma. The young boy moved over to Rhaena, not sure what to make of the strange woman before him.

"Is this Joffery?" Aemma asks, "my, you sure have grown. You were just a baby last time I saw you." Joffery didn't make any moves when Aemma waved at him. "Joffery this is our sister," Jace says to his little brother, "she's our family." Joffery looked to Jace and then looked to Aemma, making a small smile and approaching Aemma, reaching a hand out. Aemma accepts it, returning the smile to her little stepbrother.

Right on the next cue, Rhaenyra came over, one toddler in her arms while the second nursemaid walked over holding the older looking toddler. Both boys had the signature silver blonde hair the Targaryens were known for. "Aemma," Rhaenyra introduces, "you wanted to meet your brothers, yes?" Aemma nods and approaches, "this is Aegon," She nods at the older toddler holding his maid's hand, "and this," she nods to the tot in her arms, "is Viserys."

Aegon hid his face in his nurses neck, clearly a little shy to meet his older sister. Viserys in contrast was a little more curious, the little toddler reaching out his small hand towards Aemma. Aemma smiled, accepting the gesture. "It's nice to meet you as well, Viserys," Aemma tells her brother, "I would like to meet you as well, Aegon." Aegon kept his face hidden, not quite ready to meet her just yet. Aemma chuckled a bit, "it appears he isn't ready just yet."

Aemma spent much of the time that day in the nursery, having conversations with Jace, Luke, and Rhaena, and answering questions from Joffery, who had much to ask about her adventures on the Continent. Naturally Aemma would answer as best she could, being careful not to divulge too much of what she learned or leaving out specific places she's been to such as Kaer Morhen or Loc Muinne.

Aemma also got to hold Viserys at some point during her visit, the little tot trying to reach out and grab her short hair every now and again. Not Aemma's favorite moments, admittedly, but she did enjoying bonding with her brother. Aegon eventually came around, slowly approaching Aemma during her visit, even making an effort to reach out to hold Aemma's hand. The young boy still seemed reserved about his oldest sister, but Aemma was happy that he wasn't so shy with her now then he was at first.

Looking at the whole of her siblings and at Rhaenyra, everyone seemed happy. There didn't seem to be indication her father was hurting anyone here. Still, Aemma thinks, there was a chance this happiness didn't mean there was abuse being enacted behind closed doors. If that was indeed the case, Aemma had to ready herself to confront her father, whom she hadn't seen at all since she came here.

Rhaena did mention he was probably looking for dragon eggs on the Dragonmount, it might take some time before he even returns to the castle.

After spending the day in the nursery, Aemma wondered about the castle. So many memories came to her from when she explored this place as a child. So many of those memories here...many of them also soured as they heavily involved her father.

By the time Aemma made it to the council chambers, she practically froze in her tracks from the scene before her.

Daemon had finally returned to Dragonstone, still dressed in his riding leather, holding hands with Rhaenyra, as they were in the middle of a discussion.

Aemma was well aware of how scared she must've looked, so she steeled herself, readying to face the man.

She slowly walked towards Rhaenyra and Daemon, each step feeling heavier than the last.

"...Father."

Daemon looked over, finally seeing Aemma. He looked older than Aemma last remembered him, a few more wrinkles on his face since last she saw him.

"...Aemma?"

Chapter 56

[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]

I kind of want to redeem y/n and her brothers so i might rewrite a little bit of chapter 4 of Queen if Westeros to do that

update i did it, hopefully its better

[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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[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: 40.2K

001 6. 006

002 7. 007

003 8. 008

004 9. 009

005 10. 010

To be added on Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

[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."

[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​