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scarlet-star-witch · 5 months ago

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The moon and his sun

Aemond Targaryen x Female reader

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

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

Word count: 11.5 K

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

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

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

He was used to playing for second best.

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

But never from her.

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

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

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

She made his miserable heart full.

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

He never believed he was worthy of her love.

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

It was a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day.

A day Aemond was dreading.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the socialization he dreaded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s been too long, my friend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Viserys laughed and looked at his friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked at him first.

She smiled at him first.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s in her tree.”

“Her tree?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you like to sit?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re beautiful.”

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

“Do you draw?”

“No, nowhere near as well as you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re quite the flatterer, Aemond.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Darling?”

“I was.”

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

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

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

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

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

They couldn’t say no to her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You would do that?”

“Of course.” He insisted.

“That would be wonderful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had never felt so important.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

“What is this thing?”

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

“That’s a beetle.”

“They’re not poisonous, are they?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Finding bugs. Would you like to join?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing here?”

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

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

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

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

“Here.”

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

Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes at the pair.

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

“You two are pathetic.”

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

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

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

“Do what?”

“Antagonize him.”

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

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

“Why would anything happen to me?”

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

“Yes, and he’s an absolute cock.”

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

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

She recognized the boy immediately.

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

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

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

“Nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I just want to go to my chambers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Were you in the dragon pit again?”

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

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

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

“They gave me a pig.”

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

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

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

“Aemond-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You would want me there?”

“Of course I would.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aemond!”

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

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

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

“Why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

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

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

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

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

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

She turned to her friend and shuffled closer to him.

“You could never intrude.”

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

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

“I’d rather be with you.”

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

She chose him.

No one had ever chosen him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he alright?”

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

“The Maesters say he has lost an eye.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where is he?”

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

“What happened?” She asked breathlessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The Prince does not wish for any visitors.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stayed silent, his frown deepening in despair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aemond, I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Darling?”

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

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

“I’m fine.”

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

“Was it not what you expected?”

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

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

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

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

“Aemond?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know what to do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It suddenly struck her.

They were marigolds.

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

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

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

I am deeply, truly sorry.

I didn’t mean a word of what I said

Please forgive me

- Your Aemond

Her breath hitched, her chest feeling tight with sorrow.

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

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

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

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

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

They were the last things on her mind.

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

Nervous butterflies fluttered within her as she approached him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aemond sighed and bowed his head.

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

“Like what?”

“Like you were horrified of me.”

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

“But-”

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

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

“You… you’re not-”

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

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

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

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

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

But none of it mattered.

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

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

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

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

His first laugh since the incident.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But they all had a duty to perform.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aemond snickered and led her forward excitedly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s alright.” He assured her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon fic

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ahundredtimesover · 11 months ago

Text

I Want You to Stay (Series Masterlist) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels (What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim-inspired); angst, drama, fluff, smut

Series Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Word count: 261.3k

Status: Complete

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You've dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Inspiration: Stay by Mikky Ekko

A/N: Hiii I am BAAACK! 🫡 This story is finally seeing the light of day after 3 years. I feel a little rusty, especially this being my first new JK series in 1.5 years! But it's also been a bit rough getting back into writing (and in Tumblr) after so long and after the year that was, so there won't be a schedule for chapter releases and I'll probably be a lot slower than usual. I wasn't sure if I was gonna go back to writing but I realized that I've missed interacting with you guys and screaming about stories so I do hope you give this some love. Fair warning that it's a really slow burn and some scenes are reminiscent of k-dramas. There are also sensitive and triggering topics so please proceed with caution!

And lastly, my biggest love and deepest gratitude to @wonwoonlight who's been the sweetest and loveliest person to talk to about everything, including this story. 🫶🏼 I give her credit for her amazing photos of Seoul (check moodboard) and for being the playlist manager. Please send her love as well!💕

Season 1 -> Playlist 🎶: on the way home

Episode 1 (wc: 12k)

Episode 2 (wc: 11.9k)

Episode 3 (wc: 14.8k)

Episode 4 (wc: 11.4k)

Episode 5 (wc: 14.8k)

Episode 6 (wc: 14.6k)

Episode 7 (wc: 15.4k)

Episode 8 (wc: 17.4k)

Episode 9 (wc: 18.4k)

Episode 10 (wc: 20.6k)

Episode 11 (wc: 23.5k)

Episode 12 (wc: 24.7k)

Episode 13 (wc: 29k)

Episode 14 - End (wc: 32.8k)

Season 2 (??)

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook series #jeon jungkook #boss jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #boss au #workmates au #jungkook #bts jungkook

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njlaadhlan25 · 2 months ago

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🚨Urgent: Help me evacuate my family from the Gaza war.

Deir al-Insan, my supportive friends 🙏

I am Najla (Umm Sahar). I am 25 years old. I live with my family of 4 members. My husband and I have two young daughters, Sahar, who is 5 years old and the youngest, Samar, who is 3 years old. Our house was demolished and we are now living in a small tent that is not suitable for living. We are losing our simplest needs in life.

I want to help my husband and to be able to buy our necessary needs for children, which are expensive, and to escape with our lives from the Gaza Strip, so help us and donate or share 🙏

We were drenched in the rain, our tent was flooded, and my young daughters became ill due to the bad weather conditions and the bad place we live in. They were afflicted with skin diseases, from which I suffered a lot 🙏

Please help me and my family by donating, sharing or reblogging🙏.

My brother and sister's account❤️

@ahmeddahlancampaign

@azeza-dhlan

@90-ghost @el-shab-hussein @nabulsi27 @sar-soor @sayruq @queerstudiesnatural @appsa @communistchameleon @fairuzfakhira @neptunerings @just-browsing-on-the-internet @appsa @akajustmerry @feluka @marnotrawienie @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @vivisection-gf @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @animentality @kordeliiius @brutality @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @violetlyric-blog @the-bastard-king @tamayt @4ft10tvlandfangirl @troythecatfish @skatehani @northgazaupdates2 @northgazaupdates2 @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @friendshapedplant @mangocheesecakes @commissions4aid-international

#free gaza #gaza #gaza strip #gazaunderattack #gaza genocide #gaza help

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mohammedhaboubsblog · 2 months ago

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Hello, dear friends and donors, thank you for your donation because you saved me in many things, I told you about my sister's condition 5 days ago, my sister must travel within 3 days to receive treatment. Her condition has deteriorated a lot after the injury in the Al-tabieen school, and today her condition has deteriorated a lot and I have to collect money for her. I have to reach 190,000 SEK to travel, please help me, she is my only sister, I don't want to lose her, I beg you to donate

Verified by @sar-soor @90-ghost @opencommunion

Please note that the conversion rate is

1 USD = 10.38 SEK

5 USD = 52 SEK

10 USD = 103.8 SEK

20 USD = 207.6 SEK

50 USD = 519 SEK

100 USD = 1038 SEK

200 USD = 2076 SEK

@dannyketch @invaive @revolution @bigleaf-girl @heybeyby @el-shab-hussein @opencommunion @loathsome-little-creature @musicfren @olovelymoon-slow-answers @fleshdyk3 @fl4xenfields @butchfeygela @ot3 @feluka

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45

@tortiefrancis @stil-lindigo

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid

@aristotels @komsomolka @xinakwans @heritageposts @nibeul

@bloobluebloo @ankle-beez @isanyonetoknow

@variantsofblue @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap

@xinakwans @ghelgheli @northgazaupdates2

@vakarians-babe @transmutationisms

#boost #free gaza #gaza strip #celebrity #important #michael cera #margot robbie #gaza #art #palestine

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hobnobs1103 · 7 months ago

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top 10 hannibal quotes:

1. she weaponised her uterus (what the fuck mason)

2. in the pantry

3. i’m not interested in a pissing contest with you dr lecter

4. i am b e d r o c k

5. i said it was mild 💅

6. “what do you consider him?” “dead”

7. is your social worker in that horse?

8. no pajama party for you mr graham

9. feeling paternal will

10. he helped us milk you (what the fuck is wrong with this family)

#these were from memory i’ve probably missed some better ones #hannibal #nbc hannibal #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannigram

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b3ach-bunn7 · 30 days ago

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CHANGE OUT OF SOMETHING YOU KNOW

You’re the League of Villans new healer. Messages between you and their resident arsonist.

slight nsfw, more just teasing than anything else

(title based off the blood orange song plz listen 🙏)

—————————————————————————

October 8th

2:06 pm

You: hi, idk if Shigaraki told you but I’m the leagues new healer!! I think we r bedroom neighbours :D

You: so if u need anything I’m a room away lol

Dabi: K

You: wow so articulate

Seen

October 10th

12:09am

Dabi: Shiggy says go to the bar

You: okay

You: what did he need?

Seen

October 11th:

4:40 pm

You: did u eat my leftovers

Dabi: 🧐

You: BRUH

You: ur buying me more idgaf

Dabi: Hell no

You: I’m gonna tell kugisaki then

Dabi: Okay? Tf is he gonna do

You: aren’t u on his Spotify family plan

Dabi: Fine I’ll fucking buy u more fatty

You: HAHA

October 13th

10:09am

Dabi: Shut the fuck up

Dabi: Ur so loud

You: that’s what she said 😂

Dabi: Actually kys

Dabi: Turn that shit down

You: aw ur so nice 🥰

October 15th

2:06 am

You: can u shut up it’s 2am

Seen

October 19th

1:18 am

You: where r u

You: shig says u need me

Dabi: I don’t need shit

Dabi: I’m fine

You: right so the blood trail leading to ur room is just decor then?

Dabi: Getting a head start on Halloween

You: just let me in 😒

October 20th

3:07 pm

You: where do u get the staples for ur face and stuff

Dabi: Y

You: just Y is crazy 😭

You: I’m getting supplies for the league

Dabi: Target

You: ???

You: they’re just normal staples???

You: I thought they were like medical ones

Dabi: Too expensive

You: brokie

Dabi: Kys

You: okay and what if I did

Dabi: Mission accomplished

You: prick

October 22nd

11:31 pm

Dabi: Need healing

You: what’s the magic word 😁

Dabi: I’ll burn u to a crisp?

You: omw!!!!

October 25th

8:43 pm

You: do u guys do anything for Halloween

Dabi: R we 12

You: duck off

Dabi: 🦆

You: STFY

You: ykw I mean

You: like a party or smth

You: or do I have to source my Halloween activities outside of the league

Dabi: Idk

Dabi: Ask Toga

You: okay thanks for nothing 🙄

Seen

October 25th

10:01 pm

You: ME AND TOGA R HAVING A MOVIE NIGHT

You: 🤪🤪🤪🤪

You: u are invited

Dabi: K

You: its for Halloween so u have to dress up

Dabi: The fuck

Dabi: Y

You: togas never cekebrated Halloween

You: and she got kinda sad when I asked fo i told her we can dress up here

Dabi: Oh

You: so if u can come she’d greatly appreciate it!!!

You: and ig I would too 😒

Dabi: Yh you’d love me there

You: shut up

October 29th

3:43 am

Dabi: Y/N

Dabi: R u awake

Dabi: Y/N

Dabi: Wake up

You: wtf do u want

You: its theee am

Dabi: Ik but I need you

You: huh

Dabi: Healing

Dabi: Got hit bad

You: oh shit okay

You: you in your room?

Dabi: Tes

You: coming

Dabi: Lol

You: bros dying and is still cracking jokes

October 29th

2:05 pm

Dabi: Does ur quirk always do that

You: do what?

Dabi: Hurt u

You: oh thattt

You: well it like gets rid of ur pain and injury but part of the pain had to go to me

You: has*

You: my pain tolerance is high tho so idm most of the time

You: ur wound was just kinda bad yesterday so it hurt a bit more than usual 😅

You: or this morning ig

Dabi: Oh

Dabi: I didn’t know that

You: lolz it’s okay 😝

You: I’m used to it

Dabi: Thx ig

You: you guess?!??!

Dabi: K

You: YOU kys

October 31st

7:06 pm

You: YOU ACC DRESSED UP :D

Dabi: I’m wearing plastic fangs

You: I see those eyeliner bite marks on ur neck

Dabi: Y r u looking at my neck freak

Dabi: Should be watching the movie not me

You: shut up

You: does this mean u wear eyeliner

Dabi: Shut the fuck up

You: HAHA

Dabi: Never text me again

You: ughhhhhh ur soooo emo 🖤🥀⛓️

Seen

November 4th

5:09 pm

You: DABI

You: DABIIIIIIUIII

You: PLZ MY CREAMTION KING

Dabi: Cremation u freak

You: LMAOOOOO

You: that was an accident

Dabi: What

You: can u come with me and toga to watch the fireworks 😝

Dabi: Ur actually on Togas dick

Dabi: Leave her alone

You: r u jealous I’m not hanging with u :/

You: I promise we can go out

Dabi: Ew

You: rude

You: plzzz just come

Dabi: 😳

You: UR SO GROSS

You: we r leaving at half past

November 8th

4:07 pm

Dabi: Grab black hair dye on ur way home

You: what brand

Dabi: Manic panic

You: wait does this mean ur hair isn’t actually naturally black??

Dabi: No the dyes for Toga

You: ohhh okay

Dabi: Ur so fucking stupid

You: LEAVE ME ALONE 😭😭

You: can I help u dye it 😝

Dabi: No

You: PLEAAAAAAAASE

Missed call

Dabi: Never call me again

You: PLEASE

Dabi: Fuckijg hell

Dabi: Fine

You: YIPEEE

November 12th

1:15 am

You: dabi istg

You: shut the actual fuck up

You: both of you

Missed call

You: bro ur actually pissing me off

You: WE SHARE A WALL

You: I CAN HEAR U TEO FUCKING LIKE IM IN THE ROOM WITH YOU

You: I actually hate you

November 12th

3:06 am

Dabi: Soz

Dabi: Lol

Dabi: We’re finished now

You: yeah I could fucking tell

You: dickhead

Dabi: 🙁

Dabi: I was just giving her a good time

Dabi: I can show you if you’d like

You: she’s literlaly still in the room with you u degenerate

Dabi: You been listening?

Dabi: Freaky 😛

You: FUCK YOU

November 15th

10:06 pm

Dabi: image attachment

Dabi: Tf is this

You: it’s yakult idiot

Dabi: Why is it in my room

You: oh I heard u say to toga u can’t buy them cause

You: ur a famous villain and stuff

You: so I bought some when I was out 😝

Dabi: Why

You: omg we’ve upgraded to full words

You: idk I just saw them and remebered so i grabbed them

You: if u don’t want them I’ll come grab them sorry if I made u feel weird

Dabi: Shut up it’s fine

Dabi: Thx

You: 😝

November 17th

9:07 pm

Dabi: image attachment

You: HAHHA

You: WHAT HAPOENED

Dabi: Some weird ass slime guy in an alley way

Dabi: Spinner got hit

You: he looks like those alien toys that come in the slime eggs

Dabi: 🤣🤣

You: poor baby

You: I can’t heal that

November 20th

11:16 pm

Missed call

Dabi: What did I say about calling me

You: plz pick up

You: I think this guy is following me

You: and I’m scared

You: I took like three turns anrbhes still behind me

Dabi & Y/N, Time elapsed: 45 minutes

November 21st

12:15 am

You: thank you for earlier

Dabi: It’s ok

Dabi: What did he look like

You: uhm a bit shorter than u, brown hair and I think brown eyes

You: he was wearing a green bomber jacket and he was by the corner shop

You: why

Dabi: None of ur business

You: I can hear u leaving ur room

You: where r u going

Dabi: Shut up

You: right 😭

November 22nd

1:06 am

You: bro not again

You: please STOP

You: can’t u go back to their place for once like 😭😭

Dabi: He’s busy 😘

You: girl idgaf

You: go be busy somewhere else

You: or stfu

Dabi: Sorry

Dabi: She took my phone

You: again idgaf just plz shut up I wanna sleep

Dabi: K

You: 🖕

November 24th

9:09 pm

You: me and twice are watching a movie if you wanna join

Dabi: What r u watching

You: hot fuzz 😝

You: a classic

You: u probably don’t even know it

You: it’s kinda underground and too cool for u

Dabi: I do fucking know it

Dabi: Cornetto triology

You: …

You: literally in love with u rn 😍

Dabi: Shut up

Dabi: Coming don’t start without me

You: okayyyyyy

Dabi: Stfu

You: 😞

November 30th

8:07 pm

Dabi: Turn ur music down

Dabi: Y/N

Missed call

You: what did I say about calling me 🥀⛓️🖤

Dabi: Turn ur fucking music down

You: It’s chappel roan 🙁

Dabi: I don’t give a fuck

You: KNEE DEEP IN THE PASSENGER SEAT

Dabi: Stfu

You: AND UR EATING ME OUT 😔😔

Dabi: You wish

You: :/ don’t ruin Chappel for me

Dabi: I’d show chappel a good time

You: She’s a lesbian u freak

You: EYE will show her a good time

Dabi: Can I watch 😍

You: Ew

Dabi: 😔

December 2nd

6:36 pm

You: bro

You: where tf is kugisaki

You: do yk

Dabi: Nah

Dabi: What do u need

You: I’m so fucking cold

You: the heating in my room isn’t working😔😔😔😔

You: and I’m gonna die of coldness

Dabi: L

Dabi: Can’t relate

You: where r u rn

Dabi: Couch

You: okay I’m coming

You: ur gonna warm me up thanks for offering I accept

Dabi: Tf

You: On my way!

Dabi: Lol

You: shuddup

Dabi: Stay in ur cold room then

You: IM SORDY IM SORRY

You: u can keep talking forever

Dabi: Good girl

Dabi: Bring the yakult from my room

You: okay 😁

December 10th

5:45 pm

Dabi: Are u crying

You: omfg can u hear me

You: that’s so embarassing wtf 😭

Dabi: Why r u crying

You: lmao I’m just on my period

You; I saw a tik tok of those army dads coming home and they always make me cry

Dabi: Lol I just heard u sob again

You: yeah it’s so funny

December 10th

6:10 pm

You: DABI

You: DID U GET ME THESE

You: THE CHOCOLATE AND THE heavy duty pads

Dabi: No

You: :D u so did

You: thank u :((

You: how did u know I like m&ms 😝

Dabi: Cause ur always eating them fatty

You: HEY

You: I’ll cry again

Dabi: Loser

You: yeah a loser u bought chocolate for

December 15th

9:18 pm

Dabi: Why r u crying again

You: why r u watching me freak

You: it’s movie night not Y/N night

Dabi: I can hear u sniffling ur right next to me

You; YH cause ur warm

You: idk my sister loved this movie

Dabi: Why is that making u cry

You: because she’s dead 😁

Dabi: Oh

You: yeah oH

Dabi: Damn

You: LMAO

You: thank u for the comfort 🙏🙏

Dabi: Idk what to say 😔

You: people usually say sorry

Dabi: I’m not saying that shit

Dabi: i didn’t kill her

You: LMAOOO

Dabi: There there

You: that works

You: just keep me warm and I’ll be okay

Dabi: I’m not a human heater

You: my body is telling me smth different

Dabi: 😒

December 18th

5:07 pm

You: bro do u have my laundry

You: I think spinner put it in ur room by accident

Dabi: He did 😁

You: why r u so happy about that

Dabi: Cause ur pink panties are so pretty

You: I’m gonna kill myself!

You: STOP LOOKING AT MY JNDERWEAR

Dabi: Its not my fault theyre all over my bed

Dabi: So u like lace

Dabi: Noted

You: I hope u know I’m on the ledge rn

Dabi: Aw don’t be shy

Dabi: Its nothing I haven’t seen before

You: whore

Dabi: A good one

You: I’m coming to get them and no words will be exchanged between us

Dabi: Boring

December 19th

8:37 pm

You: oh dabi 😁😁😁😁😁

Dabi: No

You: u don’t even know what I want

Dabi: Yes I do

Dabi: Toga and Twice asked me and I said no

You: :(

You: plz it will be so fun

You: and the limit is ten pound plz

You: I haven’t done a secret Santa in ages and forever

Dabi: No

You: pleeeeeaaaaaaaaase

You: :(

Dabi: Fucking hell

Dabi: Ok

Dabi: If I get shiggy I’m buying him Vaseline

You: YIPPEE

You: thank u :D

Dabi: Stfu

December 23rd

11:52 pm

Dabi: Come to my room

You: fuck off

You: yk I can see u from the living room

Dabi: Oh

Dabi: Okay?

You: u ain’t slick lil bro 😭

You: also yk that’s not even mistletoe

You: I think that’s just a twig from outside

Dabi: Again

Dabi: Okay?

You: shut up

Dabi: Plz come to my room I need healing 🙁

You: SHUSH

December 25th

2:06 am

Dabi: y/n

Dabi: why arnet unhere

Dabi: ehy am I dirnkifn with shiggy and teice

Dabi: shouod be with u baby

You: oh dabi :/

You: I told u I wanted to stay and watch Christmas movies with Toga

You: r u drunk

Dabi: ovviusly

Dabi: come to the bar

Dabi: wanna kiss you

Dabi: bring the miserlloe

Dabi: miseltoe

You: shut up

Dabi: xome shut me up with ur mouth

Dabi: so hot

Dabi: are u wearing that lacy underwar

You: plz stop talking about my underwear 🙏

Dabi: vant stop thinking about them

Dabi: wanna fuck you white youve still got them on

You: okay!!!! I think that’s enough drinks for u!!!!!!

Dabi: no im beirng fr

Dabi: ur so hot

Dabi: hmerry christmas

You: merry christmas dabi

Dabi: my lisp really hrut

Dabi: kiss them better

You: hypothetically I could

Dabi: pelase baby

You: goodnight!!

December 26th

3:07 pm

Dabi: I meant all of it btw

You: 😭😭 u drank half the bar

You: how r u even awake

Dabi: Fucking headache

You: I can heal it if u want

Dabi: Please

You: okayyy omw

Dabi: Wait

Dabi: Did u open ur secret Santa

You: wait no I didn’t

You: cause u wanted to be different and leave it in my room and not under the tree

Dabi: Open it first

You: okay………

You: Dabi

Dabi: 😁

You: is this fucking christmas themed lingerie

Dabi: 😁😁😁😁

Dabi: Wear it while u heal me

You: DIE

—————————————————————————

do I think the LOV would actually be this close and family au? Probably not. Do I care? HELL NO. Ik he’d be such a degenerate even if he is a cutie deep down

also the whole “he’s busy 😘” thing is him trying to get over u and realising he acc wants to fuck YOU and not the random girls he’s picking up on the streets

I feel like my Britishness comes into play so much in these text posts so plz excuse it.. but I just love Touya.. my inspiration has been crazy recently but plz don’t get used to this 😔 uni is only getting busier

#oneshot #fluff #touya todoroki x reader #b3ach bunn7 #dabi/reader #bnha touya #dabi x reader #bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi todoroki #dabi mha #dabi smut #dabi my hero academia #touya todoroki #mha touya #touya x reader

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vivwritescrappythings · 28 days ago

Text

anything you ask

knight!könig x plus-size!fem!reader

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

despite all odds, it is your wedding day (final part)

tw: fem reader, afab reader, plus size reader, body image issues, drinking, kissing, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, loss of virginity, breeding kink, creampie, not proofread.

wc: 10.2 k

masterlist

Your father sequestered you to your chambers immediately after your makeshift proposal, a knight you did not recognize posted outside your doors to keep visitors away.

It was remarkable how quickly you turned into a prisoner, only allowed to fetch books from the library and have dinner with your father in his private study. The meals were silent, his disappointment in you clear as you kept your gaze trained on your plate.

You tried to speak to him once. It was a pathetic attempt at an olive branch, some silly apology for ruining his plan with Lord Fischer. You stumbled over the words in your efforts to sound sincere. On some level you were sincere, knowing you embarrassed him and hurt his reputation. But you were rebuked just as quickly, his glare silencing your stammered excuses.

His disappointment was hard for you to swallow. While your sister was your mother’s favorite, you had always been your father’s. When you were little he took you riding and told you stories to fall asleep and always had the patience to play with you. Your personality had never irked him, he simply called you spirited. He said you got it from his side of the family.

To be outcast from his good graces hurt more than you could describe.

The days in your confinement were long. There was only so much time you could spend reading before you wanted to gouge your own eyes out. You found yourself missing your idle conversations with the other ladies at court over your embroidery–you had taken talks of dress styles and weddings and how to properly put together a dinner party menu for granted, always rolling your eyes and sticking your nose up in the air. You missed the other girls, the way they anxiously giggled at your sarcasm and how Mary always made space for you.

Above all, you missed König. His crystal-colored eyes and smile had been haunting you ever since your father yanked you up off the staircase by your arm and escorted you to your room himself. The knight had been your constant companion for over half a year, it was odd to no longer have him by your side.

Although, you had no idea what you would say to him if you were able to speak with him. You were still reeling from all that had happened, it felt like you had been thrown from a horse rather than gotten engaged. Of course, you had fantasized about marrying him, but you had never imagined it to be under these circumstances.

You still could not decide if you wanted to embrace him or rebuke him. His plan had risked everything for you–your reputation, your freedom. Rather than let you two marry, your father could have easily just sent you off to a convent for the remainder of your days.

König would have lost nothing. He was too skilled of a knight to be executed, and you were not important enough for his titles to be stripped. Even if he had not been permitted to marry you, he would have been let off with a slap on the wrist.

You never knew there was a part of him so selfish. Or so calculated.

It was not until after that you realized everything he did had a purpose behind it. If getting his mouth on you was his goal, he could have just as easily knelt before you where the two of you had been tucked behind the curve in the wall.

Instead, he spread you out on the stairs in plain view of any passers by. But he allowed himself to nearly suffocate beneath your skirts rather than hike them up around your waist and sacrifice all of your modesty.

It was an enigma to consider his motivations: did he actually want to pleasure you or just force your father’s hand? You knew he was a second son and that you had foolishly informed him of your absurdly high dowry amount. The two of you got along reasonably, and matches had been created on less. The leap to marrying you was not a difficult one to make.

You often found yourself sitting at the window seat, counting the days away as you watched the flurry of motion in the courtyard. König was out there with the other knights and squires once. Your eyes had nearly popped out of your head when you spotted him, your hand flattening against the cool window pane as you pressed your forehead against the glass.

He was only wearing his black hood and trousers, his thick torso on display as he showed one of the younger squires how to spar with wooden swords. It was unfortunate that your room was too far to see the fine details of him clearly, you could see the covering of dirty blonde hair on his forearms and chest, the faint line of it beneath his navel that disappeared into the laces of his trousers. You should have been ashamed by how you were ogling him, watching each movement and the way his skin moved over the ridges of muscle.

But, he was your soon-to-be husband, after all.

You could ogle as much as you wanted.

An odd sort of thrill ran through you at the thought. Your husband. In all your dreams about being married, you had never considered that you could marry someone you would want to ogle at. You expected a man like Lord Fischer: far your senior with no other prospects. But König was unlike anything you had considered realistic.

He looked up at you from the training field, making you nearly fall back from your window in shock. You were too far to make out any expression in his eyes, only able to see the way he tilted his head a bit to one side. A laugh, you guessed.

It had even been a week since that one shred of contact with him. You sat at your window every day since then as you vied for another peek of him. But you had no such luck, just knights and squires you had never bothered to pay attention to before. You kept looking, hoping to see a man who towered over the others.

You were at your window when your father came to your rooms to tell you to pack your trunks. He hardly spoke to you, informing you that you were both headed east to the Kilgore estate for your wedding.

–

The week before your wedding went by in the blink of an eye.

It was a blessing your mother and sister had arrived at the Kilgore estate before you did. It was a flurry of activity when you arrived, they had gotten the servants into a frenzy cleaning for guests. They had taken over most of the planning, ordering flowers and sampling bolts of fabric for your gown and putting together a menu for the feast.

You had been told that the eastern peoples enjoyed festivities as fantastic as their monumental architecture and rolling hills of green, so your wedding ceremony surprised you.

The hall was grandiose: tall buttressed ceilings and two long rows of pillars along the main walkway. A breeze carried in through the open terrace doors, fluttering the hem of your deep blue gown. The air smelled thick of oakmoss incense, you could see the smoke floating through the rays of orange sunlight.

You steeled yourself, forcing yourself to tear your gaze from the polished marble floor and look up.

At the end of the hall, König was there with the priest.

The ceremony was nothing you expected, only your family and your sister’s husband were present. König’s brother was overseas on some trade expedition and he had no other family, so a knight he had grown close to during his time in battle stood on his side of the room.

König’s shirt was of the same blue fabric you wore, embroidered elegantly with silver thread. His hood was nowhere to be seen, a mask covering his face from forehead to nose. His hair was the color of sand, half of it drawn back away from his face into a thick bun with the rest curling around his shoulders. A few loose pieces fell over the silver forehead of the mask.

It was more of him than you had ever seen before, your gaze greedily taking in the shape of his profile. His nose had been broken a few times, the ridge of his Roman nose exaggerated from being set in the field. His jaw was sharp, the familiar scruff of his stubble covering it.

You finally willed yourself forward, the fabric of your dress heavy as the train dragged behind you. Each step was measured and careful, your mother and sister had drilled into you the correct walking speed over the week. It seemed ridiculous at the time. But you found yourself counting each step in your head.

The aisle was long, it gave you far too much time to think. THe still had not uttered a word to you since that day in the hall. There was so much you wanted to say to him, the words bubbling in your throat as you swallowed thickly.

You stepped onto the dias, turning to face König.

His smile surprised you. It was faint, it almost felt like a secret between the two of you. His eyes were so open, every flicker of joy clear to you as you found yourself grinning back.

He reached out and clasped your hands, the rough scrape of his callouses against the tenderness of your skin. Your hands told of a life of privilege, his told of a life of work despite the luxury his family’s estate exuded.

Thumbs ran across the backs of your knuckles, feeling the delicate bones of your hand shift under the gentle pressure.

The priest began to speak in a language you did not understand, the same lilting accent and harsh consonants recognizable from König’s voice. You glanced at the gnarled old man, trusting König to guide you through the ceremony that was so foreign to you.

You could hardly hear what the man was saying over the thundering of your own heart. It just took a squeeze of König’s fingers to prompt you when to nod and agree, to clumsily repeat his words.

He slipped a beautiful ring set with an emerald onto your left hand, its weight already feeling familiar on your finger. It was easy to admire, your lips parting as you watched how it sparkled in the sunlight. The air felt thick with marjoram and incense smoke. You struggled to breathe.

It took the priest clearing his throat to pull you from your reverie. The room cleared, breath coming easy once more. König’s gaze was on you, eyes sparkling with fondness as they dropped to his own ring finger and back to your face.

Oh. You clumsily produced the thick silver ring from the pocket sewn inside your dress sleeve. There were etchings in the metal, swirls of filigree pressing into your fingertips as you grabbed his hand to bring it toward you. A drop of molten lead moved through your stomach as you realized that you could fit both of your hands into one of his.

Buzzing filled your mind as you pushed the ring onto König’s finger, relief warming you as it settled into place.

The priest tutted, tongue clicking against his teeth as he was seemingly satisfied.

He moved off the dias first, König taking your hand in his and leading you to follow the painfully slow pace. “Meine frau,” he murmured in a low rumble.

You hardly even looked at your family, feeling lightheaded as you glanced up at König. “What does that mean?” you asked softly.

“My wife.” He brought your hand to his lips, placing a kiss as soft as a petal on the back of it. You warmed at the term. Wife was a word that you were convinced would never belong to you.

His knuckles ghosted along the gooseflesh lifting on the back of your arm before lifting it around you. You tucked into his side easily, naturally. His hand settled on your waist, drawing you close as he steered you into a private room. The doors clicked shut behind you.

“Are we wed?” you whispered, brows drawing together as you looked up at König. You could see the distorted reflection of your face in his mask, the silver polished handsomely.

He laughed and nodded, his smile genuine as he tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

It was the first moment the two of you had been alone. After a moment you pulled your hand from his grasp, taking a few steps back. You could see the confusion in his expression as he stood, watching you curiously.

Your anger had not dissipated, your arms crossing over your chest. “You could have informed me of your plan, you know,” you said, your glare earnest across the room. “I confided everything to you, trusted you with my life and you repay me by risking my reputation and what little freedom I have as a woman to force my father to accept your proposal.”

It was hard to pinpoint the moment when you started to shout at him, gesturing wildly with your hands.

König was smiling, aggravating your further. You huffed, lurching forward and shoving at his chest. His lack of an answer made you want to scream. “It was selfish! You knew that and you did it anyway.”

His big hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking along the bone as you snarled at him. “There she is,” he murmured, voice soft as he directed your gaze up to him. His smile was soft, the scars on his lips pulling taught. “I missed seeing the fire in my mäuschen, it has been quite some time.”

You scoffed, caught off guard by his words. Disbelief made you shake your head slightly, the warmth of his palm still curved to fit your cheek. “König…”

He stepped closer, his other hand curling around to the small of your back. “It was not my intention for your father to catch us,” he said, dipping his head toward your own. A kiss was stamped to your forehead, another to your cheek. “I was going to ask for your hand in marriage without any dowry–he would have been a fool to deny it.”

The skin beneath your earlobe prickled with sensitivity as König’s teeth nibbled at it. “The other day… I simply was too eager to give you pleasure,” he whispered into your ear, walking you back until your spine pressed against the stone wall and he loomed over you. “And I have thought about it almost constantly ever since.”

Your cheeks heated up like they were set on fire, your hand covering your mouth as you glanced away from König. “Constantly?” you asked, the word muffled in your palm. Something between embarrassment and flattery pounded in your chest.

His fingers nudged your jaw until you were looking at him once more. “It has been hard to focus on much else,” he murmured, a smirk twisting his mouth. The pad of his thumb ghosted along your lower lip, making you part them slightly. “You tasted so much better than I had ever even dreamed of, I could have kept my mouth between your legs all day.”

He may as well have lit you on fire.

“König!” you scolded lightly, shocked that he would say something so scandalous. “What if someone is listening?”

His laugh was warm and affectionate. “Well, mäuschen, then they will hear how much I desire my wife.” The pride in his voice was so obvious that you felt like you were glowing.

König finally bent to capture your lips with his own. You hummed into the kiss, letting your eyes close and your hand find his neck. The curls at his nape were soft as you tangled your fingers in them, pulling gently.

You had never kissed him without the bulk of his hood before, the smooth press of the silver mask covering his nose far different than the scrape of canvas fabric you had become used to.

His hand seized the fabric of your skirt, bunching it in his fist as he started to lift the hem. The feel of the embroidered edge sliding along your leg invoked your ire as you remembered why you had started the conversation in the first place.

You pulled away, shoving your husband’s chest to put some space between you. He let you, taking a step back and releasing your wedding dress. The air felt thick as you took a breath. “Do not think you can just kiss me and compliment me and I will forgive you,” you said, brows drawn.

König nodded, lips twitching as he tried to school his grin. He stepped toward you, palms lifted toward you like you were a cornered animal. “I will beg on my hands and knees if you wish.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. König took your hand and brought it back to his lips, letting them skate across your knuckles. “I will spend the rest of my days attoning for it if that is what my beautiful wife desires,” he murmured, looking up at you through his blonde lashes.

He disarmed you easily, making you turn your face as you fought the urge to grin. “Perhaps I do desire that,” you mumbled, the threat of a laugh tickling your throat.

There was a warm puff of air over your hand as König snorted softly. “The rest of my days, I swear. But first we must get through our wedding feast.”

You had forgotten there was still a feast to get through. The anxiety of walking down the aisle had taken up the forefront of your mind, the rest of the day had hardly occurred to you. The feast. The consummation.

Thoughts about consummating your marriage made you feel dizzy. Your mother cornered you a few days ago to discuss it with you, whispering in low tones as you both sat close on a window seat. Her words floated in your head: no man wanted a weeping, unexpired bride on his wedding night. She told you that if he showed you his face to tell him he was handsome even if you did not believe it, and to hide the fact that it hurt.

But she would not say what would cause you pain.

König gently tugging on your hand pulled you back to the present. “Yes, the feast,” you said, scraping your teeth over your lower lip as he brought you under his arm.

You leaned into his warmth as you exited the room, letting him pull you toward the large double doors at the end of the hall.

At his nod, the footmen pulled the large doors open to a room full of raucous clapping and shouts.

—

The feast was lively–far more people than you expected were present. The great hall was full of long tables, they even spilled out into the courtyard through the open doors across the room. Lords and locals and family and friends sat amongst them, eating and laughing and talking as though they had known each other their whole lives.

It had run long, hours upon hours of feasting and drinking and talking. You watched the plates before you were filled and cleared and filled over and over again. Seemingly without end. The food was delicious. Roasted meats and basted potatoes and honeyed pears, bread that flaked apart with the most gentle of touches. Cups remained full of ale and mead and wine, your drink strong enough that you were forced to sip it slowly.

People keep coming up to wish you both well, you and König sitting at the center of a long wooden table. The somber man you knew him to be was replaced by a man who remembered the name of each person who approached and clinked together mugs and laughed in loud barks.

You had been processing the ceremony still when you noticed the local blacksmith asking how König was liking the mask with a genuine smile on his face. It had been forged specifically for the wedding.

It was easy to feel smitten with König, the more you learned of him over the course of the evening making you soften from your previous anger.

His big hand landed on your thigh, squeezing gently as he turned to face you. Your eyes went wide as you looked up at him. “Is the food to your liking?” he asked softly, head dipping low toward yours so he could whisper over the din of the room. “You have not eaten much, it is unlike you, mäuschen.”

You almost felt embarrassed, warmth coming to your face. It was hard for you to eat when you were so anxious. “It is wonderful,” you assured, inclining your head toward his shoulder. There was no way you could share your anxiety for what comes after with him. “The honeyed pears are divine.”

He smiled, leaning in to press his lips against your temple. They were soft and warm, his breath puffing against your hairline before he shifted his weight back into his seat.

Before you quite realize it, another plate of honeyed pears sit before you on the table

–

It was only when the moon was high in the sky that König whisked you away from the feast, an arm looped around your waist as he pulled you from your chair and out the side entrance to the room without so much as a farewell. He shushed you softly when you stammered that you needed to say goodbye, assuring you that the party would still be going on for the next few days as was his people’s custom.

The next few days, you could hardly imagine being able to stay awake for it.

Your feet were already stumbling, you struggled to keep up with König as you leaned against him. He took you through what felt like a labyrinth of stone hallways, making you get hopelessly turned around.

“It has been a long day,” he murmured, stopping for a moment to pull you closer to his chest. You sighed, sagging against him and taking in his familiar scent. It was pleasant to feel the slight give of his flesh as he embraced you–you had only ever encountered him when he was wearing armor. Without it he finally felt real beneath your touch.

You nodded, forehead pressing into his sternum as you let your eyes shut. Only one thing was left, your mother had impressed upon you how important it was for you to let König take you to bed no matter what. She feared he would wake up and change his mind in the morning.

You found your feet after a few moments, fingertips wiping at the corners of your eyes as you stood up straight. He only released your arms once he was sure you were steady, tucking a piece of hair away that had escaped your elegant braided style. You leaned into the scoop of his palm, letting your cheek squish into it.

You stretched to your toes, hands linking behind König’s neck to pull him down. He answered your silent plea eagerly, mouth slanting against yours. The crackle of lightning behind it reminded you of the first kiss you shared in the library of the royal palace. It took no coaxing from him for your lips to part, the flavor of the spiced mead he had been drinking all night filling your mouth as he licked into it.

His hands settled on your hips, fingertips digging into your soft flesh as he pulled you close. One of them migrated dangerously, smoothing over the curve of your ass just before taking a handful of it. You giggled into the kiss, pressing your body against his as you moved in toward him. His pinky dug into the line where your ass met your thigh, pulling a genuine laugh from you.

“I am ticklish there,” you protested between your lips meeting, trying to defend yourself with a hand. König chuckled, using the newfound knowledge to his advantage as he hooked his fingers into the crease.

You lurched, scrabbling at the thick muscles of his arms as you tried to escape his grip. “You should not have told me that, mäuschen,” he threatened affectionately, continuing his assault in spite of your protests. Your laughs turned breathless as you weakly shoved at his shoulders, your legs kicking as you attempted to twist from him.

Voices echoed from around the hallway corner. “He was quite eager to pull her away from the feast.” There was a bout of conspiratorial giggles as unseen companions agreed with the man who spoke.

The distraction stopped your husband from tickling you, letting you stamp your lips to his once more. You would have been content to stand and exchange open-mouthed kisses without worry, no longer caring of who stumbled upon the two of you.

But König pulled away, blue eyes meeting yours before he took you by the hand and you raced breathlessly next to him to his chambers.

–

You sucked in desperate breaths as the door clicked shut behind the two of you. His chambers were opulent and extensive, furs and velvets and fabrics embroidered with silver thread strewn across the furniture. The fire crackled merrily across from the large, four poster bed along the center of the largest wall of the room. It was still unmade, the twisted mess of quilts making your body warm to the tips of your fingers and toes.

König began to undress himself as instinct took over, kicking off his heavy boots and removing the belt secured about his waist. You were in his rooms after all, the thought a molten ball of lead in your stomach.

You stood in the center of the room, hands clasped together in front of you as you looked around. The smell of marjoram filled your nose, undercut by a familiar musk that always seemed to cling to König’s skin. Goosebumps prickled along your arms as you considered the room, unsure whether to disrobe or not. Your confusion forced you to freeze in place.

A sigh from behind you forced you to turn to look over your shoulder. His shirt had been entirely removed, tossed over a plush settee with little care as he raked his fingers through his hair. Your lips parted, mouth drying as your gaze shamelessly fell to the thick muscles of his torso.

He noticed your admiration, letting his hands fall from his curls as he stepped closer to you. “Is there something you wish to ask, meine frau?” His head tilted to one side, his form towering over yours as he stopped before you.

You swallowed thickly, lips parting as you tried to find words. Scars crossed over his torso just as they did his neck and lower half of his face. You hesitantly reached forward to touch one, the gnarled skin smooth beneath your fingertips as you traced the slash mark down the center of his sternum. There were more slashes and stab wounds, a burn mark over the meat of his hip and disappearing into his trousers.

The ridges of his abdominal muscles were firm beneath your touch. You were breathless, wetting your lips with your tongue as your forefinger followed the trail of thick, curling hair beneath his navel.

You looked up to him through your eyelashes, still feeling like you were choking as you tried to think of something–anything–to say. The room felt too warm, the fire burning in your belly hotter than the one in the hearth.

His blue eyes were dark as he met your gaze, mouth twisted into a smirk that made it feel as though the ground had dropped out from beneath you. It was easy to see that he was pleased.

The silver mask reflected the glow of the room back onto your face, hiding the rest of his expression from you. Your fingers itched to take it off, to untie the strap of leather that held the metal snugly to his face and reveal it after so long.

“Will I ever know my husband by the entirety of his face?” you asked in a moment of boldness, gaze flickering from his eyes to his mouth and back again. “Or shall I only know you by your eyes?”

König hummed, seemingly contemplating as his large hands brushed over your shoulders and down your arms. “And if I did not wish to show you?” His thumbs circled over your wrists, slipping beneath the sleeves of your gown. Affection seemed so natural to him, as though he had spent the previous few months touching you whenever he desired.

“I would not force you to.” You allowed him to turn your hands over in his hold, thumbs pressing along the fine bones of your inner wrist before massaging the meat of your palms.

He was looking at your hands, blonde eyelashes fluttering against the bottom rim of the eyes in his mask. “And if you do not find me handsome?” he asked, so quiet that you almost missed it. Your heart ached, the fear undercutting his tone making your brows bunch together.

“I find you handsome now,” you assured him, cupping his cheek. It was hard to imagine a man like König to be insecure. He had always seemed so assured of himself before, exuding confidence in the halls of the royal palace.

“Promise you will not leave.”

It felt like he had seized your heart in your chest, fingers squeezing around it as you stepped closer to your husband. Your brow furrowed as you nodded. “I promise, König,” you said softly, trying to soothe the flicker of fear in his expression. “I am your wife, I will not leave.”

He sighed, a slight nod bobbing his head as he leaned toward you. You bit your lip, reaching up carefully to the knotted leather cord. It was easy to pull apart, your stomach turning with anticipation as the two halves of the cord fell away. He moved the mask away from his face, hardly breathing as he set it down on the same settee he had discarded his shirt onto.

You stopped breathing altogether, hands flying up to cover your mouth.

König was handsome.

Almost ridiculously so.

Of course he was rugged. His bright blue eyes were framed by thick, straight eyebrows and high cheekbones, his nose crooked from being broken so many times. It suited him, your husband both exactly what you expected him to be and nothing at all. One scar cut from the left side of his nose and curved up toward the outside of his eye, this skin jagged and puckered. The scar on the other side of his face looked like lightning, bisecting his eyebrow and meeting the cut running from the inner corner of his eye into a Y that dragged almost all the way down to the corner of his lip.

You must have been silent for quite some time, König clearing his throat prompting you to blink and shut your mouth. His cheek matched the cup of your palm, a shiver running up your arm as you touched his face for the first time.

“I am glad you did not take your hood off before now,” you murmured, watching him lean into your touch.

His eyes shut tightly, his expression bracing for you to say something worse. “I would have had to fight the other ladies at court off of you if they knew this is what you were hiding underneath that fabric.”

You grinned as his broad shoulders slumped, his relieved exhale puffing over your face. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours as he wrapped his arms around you. “You exaggerate,” he mumbled, almost sounding bashful. Color flooded his cheeks, dusting them with pink as the firelight illuminated him in gold.

It was hard to tame your fascination, your fingertips tracing the shapes of his features just as your eyes did in a foolish attempt to memorize them. You were greedy, wanting to make up for every moment you had wondered what he looked like.

“I would not exaggerate,” you whispered, wetting your lips once more. He shivered beneath your touch as you traced a scar across the bridge of his nose.

He grumbled something beneath his breath, bending his knees to grab you at your thighs and lift. “König!” you yelped, the sensation of the floor no longer beneath your feet making you balk as your hands pressed against his bare shoulders to keep yourself steady. “Put me down! I am far too heavy for you to lift like this.”

His laughter was genuine as he carried you with ease. For the first time in your life you felt as light as a feather, not even a hint of strain visible in König’s expression. “Too heavy? You seem to underestimate me, mäuschen.”

He turned, sitting on the edge of the bed and arranging you so your knees were on either side of the broad expanse of his thighs. König’s hands slipped beneath your heavy skirts, pushing the royal blue fabric out of the way so he could smooth his hands over your bare thighs. You still had the urge to shove his hands away from the dimpled flesh on the outside of your legs.

If your insecurity was obvious, König did not let on that he knew. His expression melted into one of desire as he squeezed handfuls of your soft thighs. The press of his hand on the small of your back pressed the two of you close.

Your bodies slotted together like they were made to, your thighs spreading wide over the bulk of him as he tugged you down hard. A whine pulled from you as you felt the swell of his clothed erection between your legs, snug against your quickly dampening undergarments.

The feeling of arousal was still new to you, your heart fluttering as König rolled his hips against yours. You tangled your fingers into his hair, now loose from the half-up style he had worn during the day. Twisting the soft strands around your fingers kept you tethered to earth as your bodies moved together, quiet moans filling the charged air between you.

Your nose dragged against his scarred cheek as you clumsily found his lips, teeth mashing against his as your hips rocked to the pace that he set.

The thin fabric of your undergarments started to stick to your inner thighs, the ache between your legs starting to make you desperate. You leaned back to better look at him, his eyelids heavy and lips parted as he took you in.

His gaze dropped from your face to your chest, tracing the square neck of your gown. There was a flash of his pink tongue as he licked his lips. Your fingers curled around his wrist, pulling his hand from your thigh to the bodice of your gown. It was all the permission he needed.

König’s thick fingers slipped into the front of your dress, pulling it down enough to make the stitches creak before your breasts spilled out of the fabric. Pride flickers through you at the way his eyes widen, jaw going slack as he stared with an expression that resembled awe.

It seemed he did not notice the stripes of stretch marks along the skin, the calloused pad of his thumb already strumming across your nipple in a way that made you sigh. His mouth moved to the other before you could quite register, lips closing around your nipple and sucking. You whimpered, arching your spine as you used your grip on his hair to pull his head closer.

“Christ,” you sighed, head tilted back and eyes screwed shut. He nosed along the thin skin of your sternum, his hot breath making gooseflesh rise on your arms. A bite on the side of your breast made you squeak, his tongue laving over the sting.

His big hand between your shoulder blades anchored you to him as he flipped the two of you over gracefully.

A few attempts were made to just pull your dress off like a brute before you were scolding him and flipping onto your stomach. “Be careful or you will rip it like that,” you hissed, moving your hair off the back of your neck. “There are such things as buttons, you savage.”

He only laughed, already working each button through the loop of thread holding it in place. “It should be a crime to have this many buttons on a wedding dress,” he mumbled, fumbling with them.

It gave you a moment to breathe. Despite not having touched a single cup all day you felt tipsy, the edges of the room a bit fuzzy as you tried to calm your heart.

Hands hooking beneath your shoulders flipped you over onto your back, earning a giddy laugh from you. König moving you like a ragdoll felt hard to reconcile with–you had grown up thinking that you were simply too heavy to be treated like the petite thing he saw you as.

Eagerness was glowing in his eyes as he pulled the sleeves of the gown off your arms, exposing your upper body to his greedy gaze. You had to calm yourself, breathing in and out and reminding yourself of your mother’s words: he had no time for a weeping bride on his wedding night–you just needed to make him happy.

You lifted your hips to help him pull down your dress and undergarments in one swoop. He tossed the gown onto the same settee with his shirt, the royal blue fabric ballooning in a heap.

His profile was outlined in the golden light of the fire, making him look ethereal for a moment.

You were thankful that he looked away to untie his trousers, letting you take in the rolls of your body without his reaction. You sucked in your stomach, breath locking in your chest. Perhaps sitting up would help, if you pulled your knees up it would at least cover the softness of your belly. You wished the firelight was dimmer, the shadows catching in each crevice of your body and exaggerating them.

You decided upon sitting up, awkwardly holding yourself with your arms as you tried to twist into a position that seemed natural. The press of your belly against your thighs took up too much of your focus, the rest of it preoccupied by the crease of extra flesh you knew existed just above where your hip met your back.

It was hard not to hyperventilate, each stretch mark and dimple on your skin magnified so much that you hardly remember that König was in the room with you.

You had no idea how many times he had to repeat your name before you actually heard him, blinking slowly as you looked up at him. His brows were furrowed as he observed you, a slight frown pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Sorry, I was preoccupied with my thoughts,” you murmured, smiling sheepishly. Your throat felt like it was squeezing closed, the anxiety you had been forcing out of your mind all day finally rearing its ugly head. The smile on your face tightened, your discomfort obvious.

His frown deepened. The laces of his trousers were forgotten, hanging open as he knelt on the mattress. Fingers nudged your jaw up to look at him, blue eyes seemingly staring through you and into your soul.

“What is bothering you?” he asked, thumb pressing your lower lip.

You felt like you were choking, your eyes wide as you tried to think of a plausible lie.

König’s gaze dropped to your body, lust shadowing his expression. His fingers twitched beneath your chin. “I am so lucky you accepted my favor that day at the tournament,” he said, a faint smile on his face.

He moved closer, slowly forcing you onto your back beneath him. His touch was delicate as he moved the hair out of your face. You let your eyes close as he pressed a kiss to your brow. “I worried that I would make a fool of myself and lose, I thought you were so distracting. So beautiful.”

It was hard to pay attention to his words when his mouth was dragging down the column of your throat, his teeth scraping over the delicate skin as he spoke.

He continued down your body, taking care as he felt the fullness of your hips and stomach and thighs. You grabbed his wrists, trying to pull them away as he shushed you. “I have been lucky enough to marry the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, please allow me to touch her,” he pleaded softly, voice muffled against the skin next to your navel.

His expression was so earnest you could hardly deny him, slowly letting go as you lay back. You could feel his smile as he lifted your legs onto his broad shoulders, smattering kisses and bites onto your inner thighs.

There he was, looking at you and still wanting you, still pressing his mouth to the ache between your legs. You gasped, grabbing a fistful of hair at the crown of his head as his scruff scraped against the insides of your thighs. He flattened his tongue over your sex, muscular arms curling around your legs to grab your waist.

He dipped lower, tongue teasing your entrance as he collected the wetness pouring from you. You bucked against his face, heel digging into his shoulder blade as you twisted to press the sensitive bundle of nerves against the ridge of his nose.

You were keening, biting your lip to keep from moaning too loud. König moved to wrap his lips around the bud and sucked with small pulses of his tongue. His fingers pet over your entrance, making you clench around nothing as your spine arched. “Please, König,” you begged through clenched teeth, not quite sure what you were asking for.

Then one of his thick fingertips caught at your entrance. Your whole body buzzed as he thrust up to the second knuckle. Breathing was hard, the tightness a foreign feeling as you tried to relax.

He never even bothered to pull away as he hummed contentedly, surely suffocating by now as you kept pulling him impossibly closer. The press of his finger inside you eventually became comfortable, your muscles releasing as you willed yourself to relax into the feeling.

As soon as you felt comfortable with one, he added another. Both curling inside you made your breath punch from your chest, his digits feeling each and every ridge inside of you as he worked you higher and higher. The building feeling he had introduced you to last time was starting to knot in your stomach.

Two fingers turned into three, making you sob as your arm covered your face.

It was hard to get used to the feeling of being so full. Your moans were pathetic, pitchy and breathless as he found a spot inside of you and curled the tips of his fingers over it mercilessly. His other hand held firm just above your navel in an attempt to force you to be still.

It was too much, the rhythm of his fingers matching the tightening of your muscles until everything finally just released. The relief was instantaneous, all-consuming as euphoria buzzed from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. You pulsed like a heartbeat around König’s fingers, still feeling dizzy as he pulled them from you.

His lips were wet with your slick as he pressed a kiss to the crease between your thigh and hip, wet fingers smearing against your waist. One leg fell to the bed, then the other as he crawled over your body.

You were limp on the tangled sheets as you looked up at him, his downturned eyes partially lidded as you ran your hand over the scrape of his stubble. It was wet around his mouth, his lips still shiny with your arousal as he buckled over you. His forearm braced next to your head, holding him above you.

It was hard to say who moved into the kiss first, but noses pressed into cheeks and teeth clicked together as you licked the taste of yourself off his lips. You ached for more, trying to pour your request into König through the touch of your lips.

He used his free hand to shove his trousers down his legs, kicking them off and onto the stone floor. The backs of your thighs were snug against his hairy quads as he shifted back over you.

You were almost scared to look at it–the only naked man you had ever seen was a drunk man who had been arrested just outside the palace gates. Even then, it was just glimpses and flashes through the bars.

The feel of a hot brand against your thigh caught your attention. You sat up slightly, propping yourself up on an elbow as you looked down at the gap between your legs. The flushed tip bobbed against your thigh under your gaze, smearing wetly against you. It was hard for you to tear your eyes away.

He fisted his cock, groaning as he worked the length of it in his hand with a practiced stroke. The girth was impressive, still looking thick even in his own hand as you watched clear slick trickle from the weeping head and over his knuckles.

This was the only part of the consummation that seemed to match what your mother warned you about. It was supposed to be the painful part, when she advised you to simply imagine you were somewhere else until your husband decided he had enough. You had no idea how his cock was supposed to even fit inside of you.

“Do you… do you think it will fit?” you asked, naivety coloring your tone. You never intended to flatter him, but the breathless laugh you earned made your cheeks warm. He dropped his head forward, lips pressing against your temple.

“Yes, mäuschen, it will fit,” he assured you gently as he tried to fight his grin.

Smooth callouses swept to the back of your thigh, your knee pressed toward your chest beneath his firm grip. The wet sound of your sex splitting against the press of his cock made you want to hide, arousal twisting deep in your abdomen as you lifted your hips toward his. You both sighed as he rubbed himself up and down the seam.

The blunt catch of the head at your entrance made König groan, his eyes screwing shut. He moved toward it on instinct, slowly pushing against the ring of muscle. The feeling was not painful as much as it was uncomfortable, the pressure of you stretching wide around him made you draw tight like a bow.

Your hips tilted through each strained press, trying to find a position that felt more comfortable as he kept pressing into you. It was hard to understand that he just kept going, seemingly taking up all the excess space inside your body.

Heat burned between your legs when he was finally seated fully inside you, the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickling the backs of your thighs.

Your breaths were shallow and quick, the intrusion overwhelming as your fingers twisted in the bedding beneath you. The press of his fingers was not enough to prepare you for the width of his cock, the length feeling like he was buried all the way through you and in your throat. He filled every inch of you, plugging you up until you felt like you would burst.

“Relax,” König breathed, his voice sounding strained as he kept himself still. He rubbed two fingertips up and down your sternum, the motion eventually coaxing your breaths to slow to match the rhythm.

He shifted against you, a minute movement jostling the two of you against one another. The sensation made the world drop out from beneath you, muscles tightening as your sex bore down around him. You were stubborn in your attempts to grind your hips against him. There was a strangled sound from his chest, deep and rumbling as he squeezed your thigh so hard you were sure it would bruise.

“Please, meine frau, you must calm down.” His hand moved to splay over your hip, forcing you against the mattress as he pinned you down. He nodded approvingly as you stopped moving, your head starting to clear as you settled with each breath.

Sweat dampened his forehead and the nape of his neck, wisps of his hair stuck to his pale complexion as he hovered above you. It was still hard to wrap your mind around the fact that König was your husband, the band of the ring on his finger digging into the flesh of your thigh to serve as a reminder. The scars marking his features already seemed so familiar to you, the tilts of his head and pinch of his eyes lending themselves to memorizing the expressions he had kept secret under his hood.

His thumb moved to press tight circles against your sex, a satisfied smirk contorting his features as he watched you gasp. The discomfort was quickly pushed to the back of your mind, your sex squeezing tight around him as you mewled. You kept squirming, making him groan each time your hips moved.

Another hot squeeze of your core had his head sagging forward on a groan. He rooted deep, hips stuttering as he nudged even further inside you. His eyes were dark as they found yours, your nod of encouragement frantic.

“Yes, please,” you breathed, hand finding the curve of his jaw. Your thumb traced the jagged line of the scar near his lip. “Please.”

He hummed his agreement, turning his head to press a kiss to the center of your palm. His breath was hot over your fingers as his hips bunched against yours.

It was only the first taste of him inside you, gentle rocks of his pelvis to get you used to the feeling. The hot slide and press of his cock deep inside you unlocked something in your mind, something primal and instinctual you never knew existed.

You clutched at his bicep, gasping for air as he got more confident in his movements. The squelch was loud in the room, you were absolutely soaking. You could feel yourself leaking all over König and the bedding and your inner thighs. But the way he looked at you like you hung the moon in the sky made you forget your concern.

He leaned back, his wide palm smoothing over the back of your other leg and pressing until you were nearly bent in half. You almost choked, surprised your body could even contort so much. His lips were parted, his breaths labored as he stared at where you were stretched tight around him. The swell of your stomach made it impossible for you to see so you settled on watching his expression grow heavy with lust.

A long, sinuous motion made your eyes roll back. König pulled out and plunged back inside you in steady thrusts from tip to base, his skin slapping loudly against yours. The muscle of his hips bumped hard against your pelvis, his hands pressing down on your knees to rotate your hips up toward his.

He looked up at you, the sight of your nod making him bear down further. You had to force yourself to keep breathing, each hard thrust making you sigh softly as you tried to keep your head above water and stay with him.

He rutted into you so firmly that your teeth clacked, sweat starting to form at every juncture of skin touching skin. You reached for his shoulders, making him gather the backs of your knees on his biceps as he moved in closer to you. His brows were drawn, cheeks flushed pink as he grunted softly.

The air in the room was humid, your shared breaths dusting over one another as your eyes remained locked together.

He fucked into you with grit teeth, sweat starting to roll down his temple. Each thrust of his hips made the knot in your belly tighten, a syrupy warmth blooming through you. The pressure of him around you scratched an itch you never knew you had–you would crave this for the rest of your life.

You lifted your hips even further, his cock reaching a spot that made lightning start to build between your legs as you cried out.

“König, there, please…” you begged, voice breaking.

He obliged, pressing his belly to yours as he caught your mouth in a searing kiss. The merciless rhythm of his hips continued, the ocean waves building in your belly starting to crest and break. His lips opened over yours, hot tongue twisting into your mouth and licking along your teeth.

His weight shifted, head of his cock pressing so firmly inside you that the frantic wave of pleasure smashed into a million pieces as you fell.

Your legs twitched as you came with a scream, back arching stiffly off the bed. It felt like you were on fire, hot and unbearable as your muscles locked up. You struggled to think, your pleasure syrupy and warming as you floated somewhere else.

König stilled above you, keeping you speared on his cock as you writhed beneath him. His moan was deep, vibrating against you as your sex squeezed down on him like a vise. The press of his hands held you there, as strong as steel as he ground into you through the throes of your orgasm. You surfaced, your eyes wide as they met his, the sight of him forcing a moan out of you.

He looked like a predator above you, eyes gleaming with arousal. They were the color of lightning, the blue so intense that it was almost crackling as he searched your expression.

Your body started to jolt, your orgasm wringing you dry as you panted beneath him. He ground into you, cock twitching inside you as your hips stuttered of their own accord. The bedding twisted in his fists as his knuckles turned white, forehead dipping into the hollow of your throat as his breath fanned over your chest.

It occurred to you that he was close to spilling his seed inside of you, the whole point of consummating your marriage returning to you as you thought of carrying König’s child. You gasped, hand flying to your stomach all at once as you rubbed the skin there and imagined.

Soon you would be pregnant. He wanted you to be. You wanted to be.

His eyes followed the movement of your hand, his own fitting over yours, thumb stroking over the backs of your knuckles. He groaned, pressing your hand down against your soft flesh as it became clear to you he understood.

Your name was on his lips, repeated like a prayer as his hands fitted to your waist and pulled you further onto his cock.

“König,” you replied, your voice breaking as he set a reckless pace.

Your world spun, fuzzy around the edges as you drew harsh breaths that ended in soft ahs. The full wave of his body was gone, a staccato rhythm that was quickly turning sloppy replaced it. He stopped withdrawing fully, fucking into you with an urgency as he pounded you deep.

Delirium took over you as he used your body for his own pleasure. Overstimulation made tears well up on your lashline and slowly roll down your cheeks, you moaned your husband’s name as you fought to keep your eyes from squeezing shut.

König was running his mouth in his native language, guttural words twisted around your name with his harsh breaths. You loved listening to him talk, you found yourself wishing you understood what he was saying as he muttered words under his breath. He snapped his hips against you once, twice, and then he made a wounded sound as he finally found his release.

He kept shoving into you, hard and unrestrained as he fought to get even deeper inside you as his cock spit come that felt like molten iron deep. His hips stuttered thoughtlessly to fuck it even deeper inside of you.

You were awed as he held you there, watching his eyes squeeze closed as his breaths came hard. One hand left your waist, pressing into the sweaty bedding beneath you to stabilize himself. He moaned under his breath, exhaustion and satisfaction mingling in the sound as he bowed toward you.

It was only a moment more until he collapsed, pressing you into the mattress with the bulk of his body as his nose pressed just beneath your jaw. You were both suspended in time as you gasped, your eyes wide as you stared at the ceiling.

His hand pressed beneath you to the small of your back, holding you close as he remained buried deep inside you.

The weight of him on top of you made you wheeze, your palm pressing against his shoulder finally bringing König back to life. “You are crushing me,” you said with a laugh, voice breathless.

He was moving before you could say anything more, arms curling around your waist and over your back as he rolled. The world shifted as your cheek came to rest on his barrel chest, ear pressed against his strong heartbeat. His arm fitted around you, pulling you closer as he stamped kisses on your damp hairline.

“My love,” he sighed, almost sounding awe-struck. You looked up at him through your lashes, your palm pressing over his ribs.

He shifted, both of you hissing as he slowly pulled out of you. His fingers traced down your body, gathering his come as it started to leak from you and pressed it back inside of you. You yelped, nerves frayed as you squeezed around his digits.

“Get that smirk off your face,” you said, your smile betraying your tone as you attempted to scold him. He looked satisfied with himself, eyelids heavy as he shifted his gaze to you. His eyes were back to the color of a clear pool of water, his calm affect returned.

“You did not seem so upset with me at the moment,” he teased, calloused fingertips tracing up and down your arm.

You rolled your eyes, mashing your cheek into his chest again as you curled into him.

The silence between you two was comfortable, your gaze roving over his chambers. There were shelves with trinkets from travels, books and scrolls amongst them. It was so cozy, furs and rich fabrics across the furniture and tapestries on the walls. You lifted your head slightly, the rounded ear of a stuffed bear visible behind a basket with odds and ends of fabric sticking from it.

“I have to ask,” you started, a wide grin on your face as you propped yourself on König’s chest. He smoothed his hands over your waist, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin as he looked up at you, waiting. “Did you make that bear you gave me at the tournament?”

You had always found it hard to imagine him stitching it together, big hands working a needle through the fabric.

König laughed, a sharp breath of air leaving his nose as he nodded. “I did,” he said softly, cheeks turning pink as he looked a bit sheepish. “After the war I needed something to do with my hands that did not feel like murder. That was the best one I made, I wanted it to go to my future wife.”

You hummed, biting your cheek as you tilted your head to one side. “You thought I would be your future wife?�� you asked, nose wrinkling. Affection warmed your cheeks, your hands pressing flat on his chest as you looked down at him.

“Oh yes,” he breathed, reaching up to tuck some of your mussed up hair out of your face. “I knew I would have no other. It seems that the gods agreed with me.”

You leaned into the touch of his hand, his thumb stroking over your eyebrow and down your cheek. “Would you make another one of those bears? For our child?” you asked softly, resting your chin on his sternum. You traced hearts on his chest with your fingertips.

König smiled again, his scarred face looking soft in the firelight. He bent down to kiss you, fingers hooked beneath your chin to lift your mouth to his. It was sweet, just a stamp of his lips to yours.

“For you, my lady?” he asked, eyes roaming over your face as he spoke. My lady. You were elated that he would now be calling you his wife. “Anything you ask.”

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smallorangelover · 6 months ago

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Raffle and fundraiser for a Gazan family!

I am part of a group of friends, fundraising for our dear Gazan friend's family. With Tumblr's support, they raised just enough to pay border guards and leave through Rafah for Egypt! They need a remaining £11k for urgent medical expenses : diabetes, arthiritis, and gynae surgeries. The youngest one (13 years) needs schooling and therapy. The family needs rent money while they settle temporarily in Egypt.

Vetting

A Palestinian friend, Jennine K, has vetted and posted about us on Twitter.

How can I help?

SHARE the GFM. Every like, comment, and share makes a huge difference! On...

Tumblr (the pinned post from my blog is always most up to date )

Twitter

Instagram

2. DONATE. £5 makes a difference!

3. SUPPORT OUR UPCOMING RAFFLE on Instagram. We recently ran an auction that raised £2027 / $2557 ! Soon, we'll be running a raffle with incredible artworks, textiles, ceramics and more. Get ready to buy a ticket, or if you're an artist with a following on IG, donate!

#palestine #gaza #palestineaid #gazaaid #palestinefundraiser #gazafundraiser #palestinedonation #gazadonation #mutualaid #artistsoftumblr #artists for palestine #artists against apartheid #art for palestine #tumblr artists

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goldenstring6123 · 4 months ago

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Hi !!! How r u pooks :3

Ignore this if u haven't played dti but what do you think the L&DS boys' reactions would be to their s/o playing dress to impress and actually raging at it like verbally LMFAO this game seriously has me TWEAKING bro but I can't stop playing it gigi please free my family 💔 (hcs plz)

Thanks for reading O_o

Lnds: Dress to impress chaos

Warning: no warning! GN!READER, crack-fic (?)

Author's notes: DTI has me on a chokehold as well pookie.

Zayne:

Surprisingly, Zayne knows about this because of the children in the pediatric ward. A good number of kids have their tablets with them and play the game; to him, it looked like some regular dress-up game. He didn't think much of it and just warned the children to lessen their screen time.

When he arrived home and was taking his shoes off in the foyer, he could hear you complaining about something. The only coherent sentence he heard was, "The theme is Y-THREE-K, NOT Y-TWO-K!" He wondered what you were talking about and who you were mad at, but when he saw you huddled around the coffee table, fashion magazines sprawled all over, and another gadget displaying fashion catalogs, he knew what was up.

"What are you getting so worked up about?" he asked, sitting next to you and placing down a cup of tea after changing into his clothes. He could see that there were figures walking down the runway.

"I don't get how those ugly layering players win first place!"

He was confused by what you meant. The outfits were suitable, donning the familiar attire of the staff at the hospital, particularly scrubs and white skirts that were too short for the protocol. "What's the theme?"

"A doctor or a nurse," you replied. As the screen turned briefly black, Zayne waited in anticipation. The scene changed, and on the podium was a mermaid with neon green wings and a god-awful dress.

You threw your hands up in frustration and wept on his knees. Zayne was dumbfounded. "I hate this game!" he heard your muffled cries on his knees. He patted your head.

He got used to seeing you so engrossed in the game, but he would never get used to your mood swings: one moment, you're insulting children, and the next moment, you're giggling because you won 1st place.

Zayne bought you a VIP pass because he loved seeing your reaction every time, although he isn't really a fan of spending money on in-game currency. But he loves you too much, so he just keeps that thought to himself.

After seeing you play, he watches the kids play as well, occasionally commenting on their choice of clothing. The nurses were pretty confused by his comments because Zayne never really commented on any outfits, much less in a game.

Xavier:

Xavier knows about the game and has tried it once, not getting the premise of it at first. He didn't know how to change patterns or delete the clothes he was wearing, so his first catwalk was a bit of a mess. But here's the thing: Xavier won first place, which made him more confused. He screenshot himself on the podium and sent it to you.

When you got home from work, excited to play with him, he was pouting while looking at his phone. You wondered why and saw that another player was walking around in the same exact fit as your partner's character. Xavier said that he kept on trying to change his outfit, but that one person kept doing the same thing. You decided to give that player a piece of your mind on behalf of your boyfriend.

When you're at work, Xavier will send you links to fashion hacks he sees on social media. "This looks cute; let's try it later," and he's more updated when Gigi is working on something. The codes—Xavier knows the codes by heart. He knows them more than he knows the date of your birth.

It was thanks to this game that he likes to go shopping with you to get some inspiration. Surprisingly, he can make a coherent outfit with the ones he sees in the malls.

When you both play together, he likes playing duo, and even if your outfits are unfinished or bad, he gives you 5 stars. But for the rest of the players, he forgets to vote more than half of the time—you don't know if it's on purpose or really by accident.

He would occasionally laugh when players fight against one another, especially if you were involved.

He once bought himself the VIP pass, but his outfits still looked too generic for your liking, but you didn't have the heart to complain. Xavier once lost a bet, and now he has to buy you the pass as well.

He once used his work account to comment on some suggestions on Gigi's Twitter, and kids were confused as to why a hunter was commenting on a kids' game. He deleted it soon after, but he amassed a few hundred followers.

Sylus:

He felt nothing about the game at first and thought of it as nothing more than your form of entertainment. It keeps you busy and out of harm's way, but he never once thought that it would cause a rift in your relationship (he's exaggerating).

Sylus would grow annoyed at how you weren't picking up his calls when you were clearly at home, so he sent Mephisto. The little snitch took a picture of you being so engrossed in your game and sent it back to his boss. Sylus was half disgruntled and 100% dumbfounded when he found out—he was laughing, but he was annoyed. Luke and Kieran were utterly confused.

At midnight, while you worked your way to being a fashion maven, you didn't notice your man sneaking in through the window. Just as you were about to hit pose 11, Sylus yanked your feet and stole your tablet from you.

"No! Give that back!"

"You're not answering my calls because of…this?" He turned to the tablet, which displayed another player's half-decent outfit for the theme "star."

"What calls?" you turned to your phone. '18 missed calls' and your heart sunk to the floor. Shyly, you turned to him, scratching your head. "Oops?"

He sat down on the edge of your bed. "Why are you so engrossed in a dressing game? Why not dress yourself with all the clothes I gave you?" He nudged to the mountain of paper bags in the corner of your room—branded ones, too.

"Because it's fun?" You took the tablet from him and showed him on screen how your outfit won first place. "See? I like winning—one more round, and let's go on a night ride."

He paused, patiently waiting for a minute while you scrolled around the game lobby. He came to a decision. "No. Screen time is over. You've neglected me for far too long." He yanked the tablet away from you using his evol, then pinned you down to the bed, burying his nose in between your breasts.

Although Sylus claims he's not interested in playing the game with you, he did, in fact, join the game secretly to spy on you. He was mildly infuriated with the little amount of selection of menswear and the ridiculous look on the men's faces, so he still really doesn't understand the hype, but he'll be generous enough to give you a three or four-star once in a while.

Once, he joined your server, and the theme was the bad guy. You dressed up as a white-haired, red-eyed man with over-chiseled cheekbones. A moment later, Sylus bombarded you with a screenshot of the game. "I do not look like that. Delete it."

As much as he says he doesn't like the game, Gigi made an update and added some dark reddish aura in-game, as well as a crow perched on the hand of the model. The bird looked awfully close to Mephisto. You confronted Sylus about this, and he denied having any involvement in it.

Whenever you sleep in Sylus' home, he would wake up to the goddamn beat of the game at 3 am, and out of frustration, he would use his EVOL to get the device away from you and place it on the highest shelf in the room. Then he'd hold you down.

Rafayel:

Rafayel introduced you to the game, but after a few times of playing it, it didn't take long for him to get banned for cyberbullying—he wasn't bullying, actually; he was just stating facts, and the other players couldn't take it, and so they reported him. He fights anyone, and he comments a lot in the game, earning him the title of a "yapper."

"You guys don't have taste. How did that thing win first place?" That thing refers to a pretty decent outfit but doesn't match the theme.

"You don't look good either, hun," said the person in first place.

"You don't get to say that when your hair looks like puke, darling." He rage-chattered, saying everything he was typing out loud.

You were cackling beside your boyfriend, witnessing him rage while you were just perched on top of the 3rd place, happy you even got to go up there against all the fashionistas.

"Kids really have the gall to compete and insult adults with taste."

"Raf, you do understand that they're adults as well, right?"

"No, they're not. They're children. This is a kids' game."

You stared at him intently. He stared back, thinking.

"Then I don't need to hold back from insulting them." he placed his hand on the keyboard.

Rafayel's fits are absolutely top-tier. He always wins first place. The layering, the color combination, the form, and the aesthetic are all on point and top-tier. He doesn't reference, and the only time he does is when the theme requires it.

This man doesn't do duos with you because he wants the podium to himself. He once did a duo with you, and it broke his winning streak. You had a small argument about it, but you just gave in, eager to make him lose. Newsflash: You failed miserably.

He secretly joins a farming server every once in a while. Rafayel unknowingly joined the same server as you, and when you asked about it, he denied it, saying only people with bad tastes need to farm for stars. You sent him a screenshot. He didn't talk to you for a day.

He files a lot of complaints and goes on Twitter about how buggy the game is and how bad the texture is. He didn't know that his graphics were on low.

Rafayel is very active in the community and contributes to it during his free time. He uses an alternate account to post suggestions when Gigi opens a post about it. A lot of people actually agree with Rafayel's complaints and suggestions.

Rafayel once freaked out when he accidentally went inside the meat room and told you about it, but when he showed you, it was already catwalk time. You pretended you didn't believe him and tried to pretend to listen when he was searching for that passable wall. You laughed at him and brushed him off, pretending that you didn't believe him.

This began the downward spiral to Lana's lore. He kept on sending you reels about it—and speculations and theories. He even once invited you to that scary horror game, but he quit because it was too creepy and full of 'negative energy.'

Author footnotes: If I'm taking a break while writing, I would be playing dress to impress and I would be fighting children (i'm not joking, I once made a player and her friends leave the server)

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

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scarlet-star-witch · 5 months ago

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The moon and his sun (Part IV)

Aemond Targaryen x female reader

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

Word count: 11.5 K

Warnings: Angst begins, still lots of fluff, smut (of course), Aegon still being an ass

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

The court was in a frenzy.

The news of their betrothal spread through King’s Landing like wildfire. It was all anyone could talk about for days on end. Some felt vindicated, that the rumors they had been spreading for months had finally come to fruition, while others were skeptical, unsure of what such a sweet young girl saw in the surly one-eyed Prince.

The gossip was never ending, with many speculating the couple had been consorting inappropriately in private. While many knew of Ixtal’s customs, that they weren’t as strict about their Ladies maidenhood as they were in the rest of Westeros, it didn’t stop the looks of indignation she received from certain members of the court who turned their noses up at the mere possibility she had sullied herself before her marriage.

While Aemond hated the speculation and had to be held back more than once from storming over to a group of tittering Ladies and threatening to take their tongues for daring to speak ill of his betrothed, she found it laughable. She had to remind her betrothed they weren’t exactly wrong.

Their nights of pleasure together were only all the more exciting and mind blowing knowing they would have each other forever, that they no longer needed to fear what the future held.

They could finally relax, they would soon be each other’s in the eyes of the Gods and no one could take that away from them.

Their wedding was spared no expense. Lords and Ladies of great houses from across the realm traveled to the Capitol to witness the union of a Targaryen Prince and the daughter of the most prosperous house in the realm.

Aemond paid no mind to the fanfare. All he cared about was her.

He barely got to see her in the weeks leading up to their wedding, with her swept up with the Ladies of the court in dress fittings and as her family arrived at King’s Landing, she was rarely seen without her dear younger sister or mother at her side.

The King demanded a three day tourney be held to celebrate, with lavish hunts and feasts raving practically each night. Aemond had never seen his father so excited and he knew it had little to do with him and all to do with his dear friend, the Lord of Ixtal, that their families would officially be uniting.

He rolled his eyes at the whole affair. He just wanted to marry his love. He didn’t want all this attention and unnecessary flourish.

She would laugh softly everytime he slunk into her chambers at night, her bright eyes alight with mischief, a delighted smile on her face at the annoyance on his.

“Couldn’t stay away?”

“You know I couldn’t.” He crooned, inhaling her scent as he hugged her tightly from behind. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“I am.” She answered with a blissful smile. “Are you?”

“I was ready to marry you years ago.”

She practically swooned, leaning her head back onto his shoulder, her gaze filled with nothing but devotion. She never would have pictured this for herself. She never could have imagined she would be able to marry her best friend, that she would find a love so pure and so beautiful for herself. She didn’t think that kind of love even existed.

“Everything seems so perfect.” She spoke softly, reveling in his embrace.

He hummed in agreement, wishing they could go find a Maester now to perform a ceremony and bind themselves together. He didn’t want to wait another minute. He just wanted to be her husband.

The next morning, the entire Keep was a flurry of activity. Maids scurried in and out of her chambers to prepare her, most desperate to catch a glimpse of the Island girl that would soon become a Targaryen princess.

She sat nervously at her vanity, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

Today was the day she would finally marry her best friend. It all seemed too good to be true, as though they had gotten away with some elaborate plan.

“You look beautiful, my love.” Her mother spoke, her eyes already brimming my tears.

“I’m not even in my dress yet.” She laughed as her mother waved her off, wiping under her eyes as she had been doing all morning.

To her left, Alicent stood, her demeanor much more reserved than that of her own mother and sister, who could barely contain their excitement. The Queen had yet to crack a smile since she had entered her chambers and had been silently picking out jewelry for her to wear, barely sparing a glance to her soon to be good daughter.

A nervous lump grew in her throat. She didn’t have the best relationship with Aemond’s mother, even as children, the woman seemed disinterested in speaking more than a few words to her. She at least thought the day she wedded her son she’d try to bridge the gap between them, but it seemed she still had little interest.

She didn’t seem all that thrilled her son was even getting married.

The maids around her all gestured for her to stand and move towards the floor length mirror, their excited giggles growing in volume as her dress was brought forward.

Her breath hitched. It was real. This was happening.

Her heart was racing as the maids helped her dress, her eyes beginning to sting with the pressure to cry the happiest of tears.

“I assume you know what is expected of you tonight.” Alicent’s voice broke through the throng of excited chattering, abruptly shattering the positive energy in the room.

The way Alicent looked at her, so intently, almost judgmentally, made her want to shrink. She swallowed and nodded.

She felt a hand at her shoulder, her mother’s presence steadily at her side.

“We have already discussed what her duty is tonight.” Her mother answered for her, her voice sounder stiffer than before.

Her mother had been in King’s Landing barely a day before she figured out what her daughter and her betrothed had been up to for months. Aemond had been horrified when his future good mother blurted out their long held secret.

She was sure he would be blushing for the rest of his life. Even after her mother laughed heartily and assured them she would never tell a soul, that she held no judgment for them, he still had trouble meeting her eye out of sheer embarrassment.

With one look at Alicent, the Lady of Ixtal knew she would do whatever she needed to do, say whatever she needed to say, to not let the frigid woman before her try to sink her claws into her daughter.

She would not ruin her daughter’s big day.

Alicent hummed, the sound neither that of satisfaction or disdain, and she remained quiet, though her critical eye never lessened. She had no compliments for the young girl who donned her beautiful, extravagant dress, she had no well wishes for the girl as her eyes brimmed with happy tears.

All Alicent could fixate on was how angry her father was at the turn of events. They had lost a monumental opportunity to gain allies due to the girl in front of her. She had bewitched her son, her uncivilized ways weakening Aemond’s sense of duty and proprietary. She never forgot how her son had stormed into her room, practically demanding a betrothal. It was so unlike him, not at all how he had been raised to act and she knew the Ixtal girl was to blame.

All she could do was plaster on a fake smile and hope everything her father had worked on for years wasn’t all for naught.

She was a vision as she stepped out of the carriage, her pulse thrumming in her ears, her hands trembling in anticipation.

In a matter of minutes, she was going to be married to the love of her life.

“Are you ready?” Her father asked, a soft smile on his face as he stared at his first daughter with barely contained emotion. She nodded eagerly, latching onto his arm, taking in a final deep breath before they stepped inside.

The crowd of guests were in awe as she passed, though she could not spare a glance to any of the onlookers that seemed to swoon at the sight of her. Her gaze was locked onto the man at the front of the room, meeting his eye effortlessly.

Aemond had been watching the door and nothing else for the past few minutes, anxiously awaiting her arrival. The second she stepped inside, his breath had been stolen from him.

He felt nervous flutters within him, as if he was once again that little boy who was in love with his best friend before he even knew what it meant to love someone.

His vision blurred slightly as tears gathered in his eye at the sight of her, so beautiful, so perfect, his wife.

They couldn’t take their eyes off each other as her father removed the cloak from her shoulders. Aemond felt his breath hitch at the sight of her in her dress, the shape of her body, the delicate silk outlining every curve he had spent many nights memorizing and worshiping.

As he stood before her, placing the heavy Targaryen cloak over her shoulders, he breathed in her familiar scent, calming every one of his nerves.

He took her hand, guiding her up the steps of the dais. No one said a word as he kept his hand in hers, the crowd was absolutely enraptured by the sight of them, the Ladies dramatically sharing looks of longing at the couple as neither one of them spared a glance to the Septon that began the service.

They only had eyes for each other.

No one could deny the love they shared. As they spoke the words that bound them together, their smiles dazzling, no one could deny this was a marriage of pure love.

“I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days.”

The words left him with ease. He used to dread this moment as a child, hating the idea of being bound to a woman he didn’t know and didn’t care for for the rest of his life, purely out of duty.

Now, he couldn’t imagine saying the words to any other person but the woman in front of him. The thought of spending the rest of his days with her, his love, brought him nothing but relief and endless happiness, a feeling he never pictured for himself.

Since he lost his eye, since a piece of him had literally been taken from him, he had always felt slighted, but now, as the Septon announced their union, as he kissed her for the first time as his wife, he felt whole again.

He was no longer that overlooked second son, he was no longer that scarred and feared man who longed for revenge.

He was a husband, he was her protector, her friend, her love. He felt he finally had a meaningful purpose, one that meant so much more than the duty his family expected from him.

The crowd cheered voraciously. It wasn’t often they got to witness a union so blessed by affection.

Aemond kept his awed gaze on her as they made their way down the aisle, his hand clasped tightly in hers, paying no mind to anyone else around him.

They could scarcely keep their hands from each other.

During the feast, Aemond kept his hand on her thigh, his touch thankfully hidden by the long train covering the table. As both of their fathers gave speeches, spouting lovely rhetorics of family and peace, he couldn’t bring himself to listen to a word of it.

His attention was focused solely on the woman beside him. His wife.

He felt himself smiling just at the thought of it, that he could finally say the word.

When the music started and they made their way to the floor to share their first dance, a moment Aemond had been dreading for weeks, he found he couldn’t care less that everyone’s eyes were on him.

He realized nothing else mattered. Everything he thought would make him feel insecure wasn’t even a thought in his mind. He held her closely, his heart racing as if they were dancing for the first time, as if he was touching her for the first time.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much.” She spoke with a laugh.

“I have a good reason to smile.” He responded with a smirk as he twirled her.

The guests couldn’t take their eyes off the couple as they danced. Most felt they were intruding on an intimate moment with how intently they gazed at each other, their love radiating from each of them effortlessly.

They noticed how the couple sparsely ceased their touch from each other. The Lords present couldn’t help but feel slighted there would be no bedding ceremony. They were sure it would be a spectacle with how the Prince eyed his new wife with a hunger most men couldn’t conceive for their own wives.

Aemond’s pout as his new wife accepted Helaena’s offer to dance, leaving him to sit by himself, would be fodder for most of the gossip the next morning.

He watched her with a small smile, looking more at ease than the court had ever seen him, content at the mere sight of her delight as she twirled around with Helaena, their shared laughter ringing out louder than the music playing.

He took a small sip from his wine, content to not drink much more, knowing he’d rather have a clear head for what the rest of the night held. He would finally take her as his wife, he would lay with her, spill his seed inside her without consequence.

After tonight, her stomach could swell with his child and no one could say a thing.

The thought made him desperate to drag her to their new shared chambers. He would be eager to see the end of the feast and lay with her for the rest of the night, but with how happy she was, he wouldn’t do a thing to take her away from it.

As she twirled with Helaena, her head back, eyes closed, a picture of pure happiness, she suddenly lost her footing. She stumbled slightly, her eyes widening, but sturdy hands on her waist stopped her from falling to the floor.

“Mind if I cut in?”

She stiffened at the voice in her ear, turning to see Aegon’s smarmy smile. She wanted nothing more than to wrench his hands off her, but she couldn’t make a scene at her own wedding. If she displayed any ounce of discomfort by his hands, she was sure Aemond would forever be tainted as the man who killed his own brother on his wedding night.

“Aegon…” Helaena called out wearily, not wanting her dear friend to be subjected to her brother’s cruel games, though she didn’t have power in her own corner to derail him.

“It’s alright Helaena.” She assured her, giving her a weak smile to the Princess who eyed her worriedly for a moment before retreating back to the head table.

She cleared her throat and stood stiffly, holding back a grimace as Aegon’s hand slipped around her waist, his other taking hers, his grip tight and domineering, as if he wanted to prove to her how much stronger he was than her.

“You were lucky my grandsire allowed this to happen so quickly.” He spoke blatantly as they began to dance. “I was hoping to expose your big secret to the court.”

She felt her insides twist. Knowing Aegon was aware of her and Aemond’s secret, of their sneaking around, had her wanting to retreat where no one would find her. Even now they were married, Aegon still had the power to destroy her reputation.

She just hoped he ruined his own before he had the chance to tear her down.

“You think they would listen to the words of a drunken idiot?”

His smile turned wicked, his disdain for her clear, though there was no denying the lust in his gaze as he looked at her. He didn’t have to like her to fuck her.

“More than they would listen to a whore who spreads her legs for anyone.”

“You mean my husband?” She retaliated, her patience for him wearing thin.

Aegon chuckled, though his bitterness was clear. He leaned in close, his nose almost brushing against hers. She jerked back, sending him a vicious scowl, all she could allow herself under the prying eyes that surrounded her.

“You could have been mine.” He crooned, the wine on his breath making her feel nauseous. “Gods only know why you decided to settle for my twat of a brother. As if he could please you better than I could, as if he could fuck you the way I could. I bet you were the first woman he ever bedded.”

His words made her feel sick to her stomach as she staunchly looked past his shoulder, refusing to look him in the eye. She didn’t want him to know how much he could get under her skin. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I would rather let the entire brothel of whores you sully yourself with flay every layer of my skin off slowly until I beg for death than ever crawl into bed with you.”

Aegon only smirked joyously.

“The mouth on you.” He admired with a shake of his head. “Such a shame it’s wasted on my brother.”

“Aegon.”

The stern voice of his brother made his eyes widen for a fraction of a second and he quickly schooled his expression, quickly removing his hands from his new good sister, plastering on a smirk so his brother wouldn’t see how successfully he could intimidate him.

She turned, meeting the questioning gaze of her husband. She nodded subtly, silently assuring him she was ok.

He’d been chatting with her brother but the moment he spotted her in Aegon’s arms, he had abruptly given his well wishes to his new family and was quickly making his way to rescue her from his lecherous brother’s grip.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded eagerly, linking her arm through his, more than eager to say goodbye to the feast and make her way to bed with her new husband.

“What, no bedding ceremony?” Aegon called out, forcing Aemond to send him a wicked glare.

“Not if you wish to live, brother.” He spat and turned on his heel, desperate to get his wife far away from his depravity.

He was more than thankful his good father had appealed to his father about doing away with the bedding ceremony. The Lord of Ixtal cared about his daughter too much to put her through that embarrassment.

“Did he do anything?” He asked under his breath as they walked away, ignoring the cheers of congratulations from the guests he cared little for.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched in anger, his instincts telling him to turn back and threaten his brother within an inch of his life for daring to speak to his wife in ways that were anything but cordial.

The moment they stepped out of the grand hall, allowing them a brief moment of privacy in the empty hallway, she pulled her arm from his and took his hands in her own, turning to face him, a soft smile on her face.

“Don’t let him ruin our night. This isn’t about him or anyone else. It’s about us.”

He let out a long breath and nodded, though it wasn’t an easy feat to let go of the anger that burned hotly at the mere mention of his debauched brother’s attention on his love.

“Besides, I’m quite eager to get to bed and if my husband chooses to delay any longer, I might begin to rethink this union.” She teased, smiling victoriously as his eye darkened with desire.

Her laughter echoed in the halls as Aemond practically dragged her to their chambers, his quick pace signaling he was equally as eager as she was to lose themselves in bliss.

She lay draped across his bare chest, the sheets pooled at their hips. She hummed in contentment, her limbs aching, her eyes heavy with exhaustion as Aemond gently ran his fingers up and down the length of her arm.

Any other night, his touch would lull her into much needed sleep, but the excitement that continued to course through her veins stubbornly kept her eyes open.

She turned her head, looking up at her husband.

Gods, she would never get over saying that.

He looked down, their shared smiles growing as their gazes met.

Her hand that was placed on his strong chest cheekily began to move lower, making him laugh.

“You can’t possibly be needing more.” He spoke tiredly. They had already gone multiple rounds, he had already pulled a countless number of orgasms from her.

“I thought I married a dragon.” She teased. “Are you saying you no longer have the stamina to please your wife?”

Aemond’s gaze darkened, his exhaustion worn out by his desire she could so effortlessly spark.

“You dare to doubt me, wife?” He crooned, knowing how deeply the word affected her, watching with satisfaction as she practically preened against him, a wickedly delightful thrill coursing through her at the mention of their newly married status.

She laughed and pushed at his chest, forcing him to lay back onto the pillows below him. He eagerly expected her to crawl atop him and ride him in the deliriously, mind bending way she could, but he was left in a pleasured surprise as she began to press heated kisses across his abdomen, moving lower torturously slowly.

He let out a heavy breath, his body thrumming with anticipation. He hissed as she took him in her mouth, his head falling back, already feeling weak under her touch, sensitive from his previous leg-shaking peaks.

Her wicked tongue knew exactly what to do to render him a useless fool who couldn’t remember his own name. His hand tangled in her hair that was already a mess from their previous passionate rounds.

His breath left him in heavy pants as she worked him with her mouth at a quick pace. He knew her well, he knew the determined glint in her eye signaled trouble for him. She went further and further and took him deep in her mouth until the tip of him hit the back of her throat.

He whined, writhing against the bed, his hand that wasn’t pulling at her hair pathetically fisting the sheets below him in an effort to keep himself tethered to some semblance of control that she was steadily shattering.

“You are wicked.” He moaned, the delight in his voice causing her lips to curl around him in the guise of a victorious smile.

His lips were parted with a litany of moans and whines as he watched her, eagerly taking in the sight of her, his cock in her mouth, her eyes alight with desire, greedily taking his pleasure. She sped up the pace of her mouth, delighted at the sound of his loud groan echoing throughout the room.

His toes began to curl, his weak body, already spent from hours of ecstasy, leaving him powerless under her.

He called out her name frantically, sounding more debauched than he ever would have imagined he could have.

“Oh fuck, just like that, darling, don’t stop.”

She doubled her efforts, eager to see him fall apart. She loved to hear his noises of pleasure, to see him so unrestrained as he let himself fall to the haze of bliss. His back arched, both of his hands grabbing fistfuls of her hair, as if to ensure she wouldn’t leave him wanting, that she stayed worshiping him as she was, as only she could.

“Love,” He warned, feeling his end nearing, feeling the familiar fire beginning to stir within him, one that came before a powerful release. With only a few more flicks of her tongue, he felt himself shatter.

He cried out, a loud, desperate sound most wouldn’t believe to have come from the surly Prince, as he came. His vision was stolen from him as he had squeezed his eye shut in the moment of climax, though he wouldn’t have denied that she had just extricated his soul from his body, leaving him to lose what was left of his sight. He didn’t doubt she had the ability.

His chest heaved, his jaw slack, small whines leaving him as she was slow to part from him, her mouth lazily working his spent cock that twitched in overstimulation at her touch.

He reached for her blindly, his limbs weak as though he had just fought a grueling battle. She grabbed his hand, laughing softly at the sight of him thoroughly exhausted.

She allowed him to pull her over him, his hands desperate to touch her, to feel her close to him, to prolong the pleasure running through him.

He kissed her hand, his lips moving up the length of her arm until he reached her neck, smiling at the sound of the contented noise that left her lips as he found the spot that always made her giggle with ticklish delight.

“One of these days you are going to stop my heart.” He told her, still working to catch breath.

“I would never do such a thing.”

He smiled and kissed her firmly, his mind a haze of delirium. He briefly wondered if he was dreaming, for this seemed too perfect to be his life. He kissed her again, as if to confirm that this was real, that the woman that just brought him pleasure like no other was truly before him, that he was lucky enough to now call her his wife.

“Give me five minutes and I will return the favor.”

Their marriage was nothing short of blissful. Now there was no longer a need to hide, the public was shocked by how affectionate the dragon Prince acted towards his wife. One was seldom seen without the other.

Maids constantly gossiped about the salacious noises heard from their shared chambers practically all hours of the day. With the noises the new Princess made nightly they couldn’t help but begin to lust over the elusive Prince, or at least wish he could give some tips to their own lovers. They almost fought over who got to service the Prince and his new wife to catch a glimpse of the lovesick expression on the feared one-eyed dragon’s face.

It had to be seen to be believed.

They knew it wouldn’t be long until the announcement of a new Targaryen babe was made.

Aemond hated the attention. He wished he could take his wife across the sea and indulge in their newly wedded bliss in private.

He had just sneered at yet another passing Lady who practically fawned at the sight of the two of them, when she laughed, tucking her arm tighter in his.

They had simply been walking in the gardens together and still couldn’t escape the gossiping Ladies of the court who could talk of nothing else but their marriage and ponder about the feared one-eyed Prince’s new found prowess among the Ladies.

“Do they have nothing better to do?” Aemond muttered in annoyance.

“Our novelty will wear off soon.” She assured him. “They are just not quite used to seeing you so… soft.”

“I am not soft.”

She laughed, the sound causing him to look over at his wife incredulously. The disbelieving look on his face only had her suppressing more laughter,

“Tell me, dear husband, if I told you my legs were hurting and I couldn’t possibly make it to that bench over there, would you not carry me?”

Aemond regarded her for a moment, an almost imperceptible pout growing on his lips as he contemplated the situation. He knew there was no way he wouldn’t indulge her in anything she asked for.

“That does not make me soft.” He answered defensively, though he knew he was a lost cause.

She giggled at the obvious answer as they continued to walk. Aemond looked over at her, eyeing her carefully for a few moments, his brows furrowing.

“Your legs are not hurting are they?”

Her laughter rang out in the gardens as she leaned in closer to his side. Aemond felt his own smile tugging at his lips and he placed a kiss to the top of her head.

He knew he would endure all of the petty gossip that came his way. He would endure a lot worse just to hear that laugh again.

He almost couldn’t believe the bliss he was living in. He loved her more than he thought it was possible to love someone. Now that they no longer had to hide their true feelings for each other, now that they were married and could freely show affection without any repercussions, he found himself living in a dreamlike state.

It felt too good to be true.

Every day was spent showing the rest of the court just how much she meant to him, how he was hers and she was his and no one else mattered, while late nights were spent tangled in bed, their limbs weak with pleasure, a time just for them and no one else.

As she got up to pour them another cup of wine they had been drinking before he had dragged her to their bed, she looked over her shoulder at her husband who was looking up at the ceiling tiredly, a content smile on his face.

“Have I finally worn you out?” She teased as she handed him his cup.

He chuckled softly and took the cup, drinking down much needed swallows of the sweet wine. She crawled back into bed beside him, settling herself in his open arms once again. She pressed teasing kisses across his chest, feeling the hum of soft moans that escaped him.

He cupped her face and kissed her firmly, the gesture lacking much heat as they were both thoroughly spent from the haze of pleasure they’d been tangled in for hours.

He pulled away, letting his forehead rest against hers as he took her in, simply admiring his wife with an awe that was certainly not unfamiliar to either of them.

She noticed a flicker of something she didn’t recognize flash across his face, his eye softening almost imperceptibly.

“What’s on your mind, Love?” She asked, nuzzling in closer to him as she sensed his sudden anxious energy.

He stayed quiet for a moment longer, carefully contemplating his next words and if he should divulge the sudden thought in his head to her.

“What if…” He started softly, his teeth worrying his lip as he feared her reaction. “What if you didn’t drink any moon tea tomorrow?”

Her expression smoothed out in surprise at his request. She couldn’t deny that it was something she had thought of since their wedding, but she had never spoken of her fantasies of silver haired children with her husband. She knew he had complicated feelings for his own family, especially his father, and she never wanted to bring it up in fear of pushing him to something he feared.

“Is that something you want?”

“I want everything with you.” He told her sincerely.

The beaming smile that grew on her lips soothed every ounce of anxiety he had and he breathed out deeply, leaning forward to kiss her once more.

“You’re going to be a wonderful father.”

Her whispered words made his insides twist and flutter in ways that left him holding back the flood of emotions he hadn’t expected, her words soothing the deep rooted anxiety he felt at the prospect of starting a family, no matter how badly he wanted it. He had no way to tell her how grateful he was for her, there were no words conceivable to tell her the depth of his love for her.

So he settled for kissing her, silently thanking the Gods above for bringing him to the woman in his arms.

Aemond stepped into their shared chambers the same time he always did, his perfect hair slightly disheveled from his time spent training. He stopped in his tracks, the warmth in his expression gone in an instant as he eyed the Maester sitting before her with growing apprehension.

“What’s wrong?”

She laughed at his blatant worry as he approached her quickly, reaching for her hand.

“Everything’s fine, Darling.”

“What happened?” He turned to ask the Maester, all care gone from his voice, leaving nothing but strict power as he demanded an answer.

“The Princess wasn’t feeling well this morn-”

“Are you alright? Why didn’t you tell me?” He interrupted, turning his attention back to her, his concerned tone back in full force, all traces of the demanding Prince gone as he kneeled before her, his expression wracked with worry.

She smiled again in amusement and looked to the Maester.

“Would you mind giving us a moment?”

The old man nodded respectfully, giving her a warm smile and hastily leaving the room, most likely relieved to gain some distance from the dragon Prince with the feared temper.

She intertwined her fingers with Aemond’s, taking in a deep breath as she prepared herself to bring him the life changing news.

“I have been feeling a little off the last few days and I called the Maester to confirm my suspicion.” She explained vaguely, her mischievous smirk remaining as she watched Aemond’s brow furrow deeper in concern.

“And?”

Deciding to finally let her husband off the hook and spare him his heart that was no doubt racing in anticipation, his dramatic mind probably conjuring horrible conclusions, she guided his hand forward, letting his palm rest flatly on her stomach.

She watched him carefully, noting the exact moment he realized what she was telling him. His lips parted and his gaze moved from his hand to her face abruptly, his eye shrouded in disbelief, looking at her pleadingly, as if needing confirmation that this was real.

She let out a laugh and nodded, tears brimming in her eyes at the pure love she saw in Aemond’s. He let out a breathless laugh, the sound of delight one she had never remembered ever hearing from him before. He grabbed her hands, swiftly bringing her to her feet and barely a second later, he was hugging her tightly, his hands gripping onto her desperately.

Her delighted laughter filled the room as he twirled her around, the moment filled with nothing but elation.

“Thank you.” He whispered from where his head rested in the crook of her neck.

She smiled, her own emotions rising at the sound of him so touched, so loved.

He pulled out of the embrace, his gaze immediately falling to her stomach that had yet to show any evidence of the life that grew there. He pictured it swelling, the bump that would grow with their child, the life they had created together and he was sure his heart was moment away from bursting out of sheer love.

“I can’t believe it.” He breathed out in awe. It had only been about a month since they had made the decision to forgo moontea, he had no idea it would happen for them this quickly.

“With how often you take me to bed, surely this isn’t a surprise.”

He looked almost proud at her jest and she shook her head, pulling him in for another embrace that he gladly returned, his arms holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world and if anyone were to ask, Aemond would certainly agree.

He kissed the top of her head and pulled back, taking her face in his hands as he looked down at her reverently.

“You have given me more than I ever could have imagined I would have.” He told her honestly. “You’ve made me the happiest man to ever live.”

He kissed her with all the love he could, hoping it would be enough to convey every ounce of adoration he held for her.

However, their peace didn’t last long.

Rhaenyra and her sons would soon be arriving at King’s Landing to counter Vaemond Velaryon’s petition for the Driftmark throne.

The moment Aemond heard the news, he became reserved, building that familiar brooding wall around him, portraying that of the feared one-eyed prince the court loved to gossip about.

The night before they were due to arrive, he had resided in their chambers, wishing to avoid the prying eyes of the court and their whispers about his bastard nephews and the likelihood of there being another duel between them that would result in bloodshed.

He heard the door of their shared chambers open and close, but his gaze remained on the flickering flames in the hearth in front of him.

“There you are.” Her sweet voice called out, his wife taking her place at his side. “I’ve barely seen you all day.”

“I’ve been here.” He responded softly, his voice lacking its usual warmth that was always present with her.

She watched him carefully, knowing exactly what was eating away at him, but hesitant to mention it, unsure of how he would react. The mere mention of his nephews was enough to incite his rage.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” She asked softly.

“No.”

His voice was curt, betraying just how tormented he felt. A flare of pain lashed his scar, the sapphire in place of his eye seemingly burning, as if the thought of that Strong bastard’s imminent arrival alone could cut him like the dagger he wielded that night.

A tense silence lingered between them, one they both hated.

With a pained hiss, he tore his eye path off, tossing it to the side carelessly, his sharp features contorted in pain. He leaned his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands as the sapphire in his eye bloomed with pain.

It wasn’t often the wound still caused him aggravation, but in the moments it did, he always felt like he was that young, helpless boy again. His hands shook slightly as the pain flared so deeply it was all he could do to breathe through it.

Within seconds he felt gentle hands on his, carefully prying them from his face. He looked up to his wife sitting before him, the concern on her face stirring his emotions he tried desperately to hold back.

He noticed the vial of ointment in her hands, the one the Maesters gave to him to use whenever his wound became unbearable. He was tense as she cradled his cheek, her thumb caressing the edge of his scar, her eyes taking in the angry looking wound. She had seen him do this for himself a few times but he had never let her do it before.

She looked at him thoughtfully, posing a silent question to which he nodded slightly, still hesitant to let her touch what was his greatest shame, but the pain was becoming unbearable, he was left out of options.

She dipped her finger into the ointment and carefully applied it to his eye, her own heart racing as she felt her husband was baring a piece of himself he had been adamant on hiding for so long.

As her fingers brushed as gently as possible across his wounded eye, the cooling ointment bringing him relief immediately, he finally started to let himself relax, releasing a long breath.

She reached out with her other hand, laying it over his own that was still clenched into a fist, beginning to trace meaningless shapes over his knuckles. Her touch soothed something in him he didn’t even know could be soothed, the simple gesture enough for him to feel comforted in a way only she could give him. He sighed loudly as he sank into his seat, the rigidity leaving him limb by limb.

Smiling softly at the sight of him so much calmer than before, she moved to sit next to him once she was finished. Aemond was quick to close the distance between them, moving in closer to her side, taking her hand in his, eager for her touch.

“Thank you.” He whispered, the look of reverence he sent her stirring her own emotions and she suddenly found herself on the verge of tears. She would never understand what he went through as a child, she would never understand what he felt for his nephews, but she was adamant she would be there for him in the moments he struggled.

“You never need to thank me for this.” She assured him.

Another heavy breath escaped him, as if his ire was leaving him with each exhale. His resentment was no match for the love his wife gave him. It would succumb to her each and every time.

His hand roamed gently over her body, eventually finding its place on her stomach, where it stayed, pulling a small laugh from her.

“You do realize there’s no bump yet.”

Aemond just shrugged, the look of contentment on his face a far cry from the derision that had steadily remained all day.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s still in there.”

“He?”

He seemed bashful as he looked up at his wife, a slight blush on his cheeks, as if embarrassed to admit the many nights he spent thinking about their child, imagining their son as the perfect mix of them both, of how much he already loved their child.

“It’s just a feeling.”

She began to picture it, Aemond cradling their son, his eyes the same vibrant blue of his father’s, his smile wide, his cheeks chubby, every bit of him absolutely perfect.

Her own smile grew, her vision growing blurry as tears gathered in her eyes at the thought, her hormones that were now on a hair trigger since her pregnancy, coming to a head.

“Hey,” Aemond called out in concern, reaching up to caress her cheek and she shook her head, letting out a small laugh.

“They’re happy tears.”

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her softly. It was easy to forget the turmoil he felt, that he was soon to face the object of his anger, when he was next to his wife, their child growing within her.

That night, he was ravenous. He had taken her with a fervor he hadn’t felt in weeks. He had been insatiable when he knew of her pregnancy, but he seemed to treat her like glass, as if she were now delicate because of the precious life that grew within her.

His touches had always been gentle, but urgent, hungry yet loving.

Tonight, he was starved. He fucked her as if they were newlyweds again, every touch portraying just how desperate he felt for her.

“Aemond!” She cried out, her hands tangled in his hair, pulling hard as he brought her to yet another blissful orgasm.

He growled, burying his face in the crook of her neck, the enticing nip at her neck making her moan. His steady pace never faltered, his powerful hips crashing against hers as he chased his own end.

Her cries turned to laughs, delirious with pleasure.

“I love you.” She breathed out and screamed as his pace became quicker, his thrusts becoming harsher, more frantic as he quickly approached his high.

“Say it again.” He growled, now hovering over her as he gazed down at the beauty beneath him, his eye and the striking sapphire a sight that left her shivering under his tight grip.

“I love you.” She repeated, hoping he believed every word, hoping he knew just how much she cherished him, how much he meant to her. “You are the only man I’ve ever loved, the only man I’ll ever love for the rest of my life.”

His jaw clenched, his eye squeezing shut as the sight of her below him, writhing in pleasure, was just too much to handle. He was powerless against her.

His thrusts became relentless, the bed shaking beneath them with every one of his brutal strokes.

He breathed harshly, feeling as though flames were alight in his veins.

“Again.” He commanded roughly.

She shivered at the commanding edge of his voice, her toes curling as she felt sparks ignite within her.

“I love you, more than anything.”

Her breathless words were his undoing. He shouted a curse and groaned loudly, his arms feeling weak as he practically fell over her, never stopping his movements, his cock thrusting into her almost violently as he came, his body shaking against hers.

She gasped at the feeling of him spilling inside her, her arms wrapping tighter around him, her head thrown back as she cried out, his name falling from her lips in a chant, as if he were a deity she prayed to for salvation.

“I love you.” She whispered breathlessly and began to laugh tiredly as he planted kisses over the expanse of her neck, making his way upwards until he met her lips, kissing her soundly, as if she were the very air he breathed.

“I love you.” He panted in a blissful daze.

By the next morning, every good feeling Aemond had coveted the night before had dissipated like smoke in the wind.

He woke early and spared his sleeping wife a kiss to the forehead before heading to the training yard where he spent the rest of the morning, endlessly sparring with Ser Criston and any other worthy opponent available when the knight needed a break from his endless plights.

Those that dared to step up were left bloody and bruised in a matter of minutes.

Aemond was wound tightly, his entire being ready to snap as he laid his eye on his nephews for the first time in years. The fury that had been buried deeply within him for years bubbled to the surface with one look at the brown haired bastards.

The sapphire in place of his eye burned as his glare remained steady on them.

He preened inwardly as they cowered under his eye. To know they couldn’t meet his gaze brought him more satisfaction than he had expected. He grabbed his sword and gestured to Ser Criston to get into position.

He fought with determination as if he were in actual battle, as if his life was truly threatened and every movement dictated his survival. With every powerful strike of his sword against Criston’s shield, he felt vindicated, as though the years of shame that had come from the bullying he endured from his own brother and nephews stripped off layer by layer with each powerful swing of his weapon.

His eye drifted to his nephews, a sickly satisfied smirk growing at the sight of their intimidation.

They held no power over him now. He had made sure of it.

“Husband.”

Her voice cut through the haze of victory he had been lavishing in. He turned on his heel, confusion overtaking him as he saw his wife standing in the training yard. He dropped his sword and rushed over to her side.

“What are you doing down here? Is everything alright?”

She didn’t often make her way down into the training yards and with her current state, he couldn’t help but fret over her every minute of the day he was with her.

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t killing yourself before the petition.”

He sighed heavily. He didn’t know if he loved or hated how easily his wife could read him. She took his hand and he let her guide him out of the yard.

“You’ve been here for hours, I think you’ve earned yourself a break.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but she stopped him with a knowing look.

“Based on the looks on your nephews face’s I think you’ve proven everything you needed to prove.”

The smirk that grew on his lips should have worried her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel any concern for the ire he felt for his nephews. It was more than justified, she just hoped it would be enough, that their visit to the Keep wouldn’t result in any more bloodshed.

Aemond looked back into the training yard, as if hesitant to leave the glory he’d managed to carve out for himself, for the retribution he felt he had finally earned, no matter how slight it was, but her hand in his forced him back to her in an instant.

“Don’t let them get to you. They hold no power over you.” She told him softly and he let out a long breath, allowing the hatred that had been clouding him all day roll over him like dark thunder clouds making way for the shining sun to warm up the earth after a vicious storm.

His hand remained steadily in hers, as if needing her like a lifeline in tumultuous waves. She was the only thing that kept him tethered to himself, that kept him from spiraling into his anger.

She could see how tense he was and if it were any other day, if they didn’t have royal duties to attend to, she would’ve been content to keep him in their chambers and let him use her to both of their delights until he was spent, too exhausted to feel any anger at all.

She didn’t like to see him in this state. It was so unlike the sweet boy that had been by her side for years. She didn’t like what her nephews had created in him the night he claimed Vhagar.

The petition unfolded as she expected. While King Viserys’ presence had been a surprise, Vaemond’s demise certainly wasn’t, especially after the accusations he had spouted to Princess Rhaenyra and her sons.

Aemond had tugged on her arm, instinctively pulling her behind him as Daemon brought his sword down upon the man.

He had shielded her from the violent display, something she had been grateful for. With the pregnancy hormones swirling within her, she most often felt nauseous around anything that wasn’t plain bread. The sight of Vaemond’s severed head would’ve been enough to put her off eating for the rest of her life.

As the court reacted in a frenzy to the brutal display, Aemond had placed his hand on her stomach, his eye looking her over carefully, ready to rush her out of the room at the slightest hint of nausea.

She gripped his hand and nodded to his silent question, assuring him she was ok, that she wasn’t about to spill her guts in front of everyone, though the darkened look in his eye remained. Who it was targeted at, she wasn’t quite sure.

Neither one of them had been looking forward to the family dinner Viserys was adamant on hosting. It was as if he was completely oblivious to the tension in the family as he forced them in proximity to each other.

Aemond had barely spoken a word as they readied themselves for dinner. He was tense, his face drawn tightly, as if he expected the worst to unfold, as if he were facing enemies on a battlefield and not a simple dinner with his family.

“We don’t have to attend.” She told him, wishing she could protect him from the torment he felt in the face of his nephews.

He didn’t spare a look to her, every inch of him was shrouded in anger, barely contained fury that he couldn’t shake. He didn’t seem like the man she married at that moment.

“Why wouldn’t I attend?” He asked, as if his torment wasn’t visible, as if she wasn’t aware of the burning anger he couldn’t shake, the vitriol he experienced as a child coming back to the forefront of his mind, reminding him of the slights that he had been faced with.

“Aemond,” She started softly. “No one expects you to forgive them.”

He scoffed, shaking his head, his expression filled with bitter irritation.

“No one expects me to hold any anger at all.”

She frowned deeply and approached him slowly, eyeing him carefully. She had never felt so out of depth when it came to her husband but she would be damned if she left him to suffer alone.

“We don’t have to go.”

He clenched his jaw, his eye holding a faraway look, signaling he was deep in thought.

She reached out, cupping his face in his hands, startling him out of his reverie that was filled with nothing but hatred.

“You just tell me and we’ll leave. I’ll make an excuse and we can go without any question.”

Her words, her ability to show him she was staunchly in his corner, a feeling no one else had ever assured him of, disarmed him completely. There was one thing his nephews would never take from him, the love he felt from his wife stood the test of time, standing strongly against any other force that dared to weaken him. His eye softened, his hand reaching out to grasp her arm, his fingers gently caressing her skin.

“What have I done to deserve you?” He whispered, his voice cloaked with reverence, as if surprised by the love she held for him.

She frowned, hating when he spoke as if he didn’t deserve the love she showed him, as if it was some kind of gift he wasn’t worthy of coveting.

“You read to me my second day here.” She answered simply, reminding him of the beginning of it all, when they were nothing more than two wonderstruck children.

He exhaled deeply, desperately wanting to hold onto that feeling that always surrounded him when he thought of their childhood together, like warmth embracing him soundly.

It was a feeling he kept close to him as they walked to the dining hall, though he knew it was futile. The feeling would be gone, shielded in the depths of him in the face of his family.

As they stepped into the hall, Aemond left her side to grab her a drink from the servers, allowing her to step towards Rhaena and Baela, greeting them politely. Rhaena was quick to give her a smile, while Baela only had distrustful eyes to throw in her direction.

Her name was called and she turned to see Rhaenyra approaching her with a warm smile.

She smiled and embraced the Princess slightly awkwardly. She had fond memories of the woman growing up, especially in times when she was desperately missing her own mother, but it had been years since she had seen her and knowing her actions on the night Aemond’s eye had been taken had irrevocably changed her view of the woman since.

“It’s good to see you again, Dear.” Rhaenyra smiled warmly at her. “Where is your father, I was hoping to say hello.”

“He’s at Ixtal. He was missing my mother and decided to take a short visit.”

“You didn’t join him?”

She felt her cheeks heat at the question and she couldn’t help but smile.

“I would, but I wasn’t exactly in a good state to travel.” She explained and placed her hand on her stomach exaggeratedly.

Rhaenyra’s eyes widened and she beamed a smile, laughing happily.

“That is wonderful news.” The Princess congratulated. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”

A hand on the small of her back made her look up to see her husband now at her side, his steely eye locked onto his half-sister whose smile faltered at his sudden presence. She cleared her throat, her demeanor now tense as she nodded politely in greeting.

Rhaenyra left their side quickly, leaving her to wonder just how deeply one family could fracture. She couldn’t imagine ever greeting her brothers in that manner. She couldn’t imagine hating the ones she shared blood with.

Letting out a long breath, knowing she was in for an eventful night, she turned to Aemond, placing her hand on his arm that was stiff, as if he wouldn't allow himself to relax or even take a breath in their presence.

They all took their seats, the tension in the room strangling as King Viserys was carried in.

She held back a grimace at the sight of the decrepit King. He was a far cry from the man she had met all those years ago, far from the man who was a dear friend to her father.

The awkward aura in the room remained steadfast, with most avoiding eye contact with each other. Even Viserys’ heartened speech about family and the uniting of the house of the dragon did little to mend the obvious rift in the family.

Until Rhaenyra stood. She was shocked to hear her speak such lovely words about the Queen and for the Queen to return the sentiment.

Their apparent truce for the time being broke the tension, though her husband at her side remained tense, his lone eye unflinchingly cold as he regarded his distant family.

Her eyes kept circling back to him, as if waiting for the moment he would strike. She wondered when the wood of the chair under his white-knuckled grip would splinter. She wondered when the night would take an irredeemable turn.

She didn’t even get to enjoy Helaena’s thinly veiled jab towards Aegon in her toast, she was too worried about her husband to pay attention to the others around her.

When the music began, signaling the end of the toasts, she leaned back in her seat, giving her husband a small encouraging smile, anticipating that they had made it through the worst the night had to offer.

Aemond remained stiff as stone, his posture straight and rigid. She noticed his eye darken further, his gaze locked past her and she turned, her brows furrowing slightly as Jacaerys stepped towards her, a hopeful smile on his face.

“Would you care to dance, Princess?” He asked, offering her his hand.

She stared at his hand for a long second, contemplating her choices. With the entirety of the table watching the exchange, she knew she had little choice but to accept his offer.

She spared a brief glance to her husband beside her and the fury that blazed in his lone eye would have melted the wall in the great north. With a heavy breath, she gingerly took Jace’s hand and stood from her seat, allowing him to guide her away from the table.

Her husband’s gaze practically burned at her back.

Aemond watched with barely contained rage as the bastard danced with his wife. His teeth grinded together so harshly it was a wonder they didn’t crack. He briefly contemplated what the repercussions would be if he murdered the Strong bastard where he stood.

The fire within him was simmering, ready to unleash as he watched another man touch his wife. The smile on the bastard’s face left Aemond wondering whether he should slit his throat, dismember him, or let Vhagar turn him to ash.

None of the choices seemed punishment enough.

As Jace twirled her, her eyes briefly met Aemond’s and her stomach twisted at his expression. She knew tonight wouldn’t end peacefully.

She flinched slightly as Jace quickly spun her back into his arms, causing her to almost crash into his chest, forcing her much closer to him than she felt was necessary. She leaned back to gain some distance, hoping it wasn’t noticeable, hoping her husband hadn’t been able to tell she had been uncomfortable for a mere second.

Jace would be dead and buried before the sun rose if that were the case.

“I have to admit, I was quite shocked when I heard the news of your wedding.” Jace suddenly spoke, keeping his voice low so only she would hear.

“What was so shocking?”

“I didn’t expect you to end up with someone like him.”

“Someone like him? You mean my oldest friend?” She questioned, disdain creeping through her tone, her defenses raised, which didn’t allow her the wherewithal to speak in a friendly manner.

Jace sighed, as if wanting to dispute the simple fact that she and Aemond had been close for years before marriage was even a thought in either of their heads.

“You two are very different.” He said with a slight shrug. “I pictured you with someone more… warm, romantic even.”

“I assure you, my prince, my husband is plenty romantic. You do not need to worry yourself about my marriage.” She smiled stiffly.

Jace, seeming to sense her attitude, remained silent for the remainder of the dance. As the song ended, she politely curtsied and was walking back to the table before he could rise from his bow.

The tension didn’t dissipate as she took her seat at her husband’s side once more. If anything, the fury radiating from the man beside her only set her more on edge. Aemond leaned into her, making her shoulders tense both in apprehension and desire.

“If he touches you again, I will break every bone in his body.” Aemond hissed in her ear, smirking delightedly at the shiver she repressed.

She looked up at him, his fury now morphed into an insatiable hunger only she could tame. She knew she would be in for a long night.

She was just thankful he seemed to be feeling anything other than murderous rage.

But it did not last long.

She had been speaking quietly to Helaena, Aemond’s hand in hers, his thumb caressing over her knuckles a steady comfort when he suddenly pulled away.

She barely had time to look over at her husband before he was bolting out of his chair. His fist that slammed on the table made her flinch in surprise, her wide eyes looking up at him in confusion.

“Final tribute.”

Her heart raced wildly in her chest, her gaze wandering around the table, wondering what could have possibly stoked his fury. It wasn’t until she saw the sheepish guilt that permeated with fear on Lucerys’ expression that she began to understand.

“To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise… strong.”

She felt her breath hitch in her throat, her wide eyed gaze meeting Alicent’s for a brief moment, his mother looking equally as petrified for what was to unfold.

“Let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.”

She sent her husband a pleading look, but it was lost on him, his gaze, full of hatred, cemented on his nephews.

“I dare you to say that again.”

“Why? Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?”

She gasped, her hand covering her mouth as Jace landed a punch to Aemond’s cheek. The room erupted in chaos. She could watch with disappointment as her husband pushed his nephew to the ground, as Aegon joined in and shoved Lucerys against the table.

Helaena stood from her seat and rushed towards her, her face shrouded in fear. She sighed and stood from her seat, wrapping her arm around her friend who seemed disturbed by the rift tearing in her family before her.

“It’s alright.” She assured her.

Across the room, Rhaenyra’s eyes bored into hers, pleading, as if she had any control over her husband’s ire. She sent her an apologetic look and bowed her head, wishing Aemond had taken up her offer to avoid the dinner altogether.

The room came to a standstill, the fighting men separated, a room divided by two factions.

Aemond glared at his uncle who looked at him as if disappointed, as if he were out of line to enact revenge for the slight against him.

He grit his teeth and in a quick motion, swallowed the wine left in his cup before turning back to the table. He avoided looking at his wife as he grabbed her hand, pulling her along with him as he stormed out of the room.

Her feet moved quickly to keep up with his quick pace, her heart in her throat as he led them through the halls.

Once they were back in their chambers, her eyes seldom left him, watching every one of his movements carefully, noticing how highly strung he still was, how stiffly he moved as paced for a moment before he finally took a seat on the edge of the bed.

His anger wouldn’t be leaving him easily.

“Are you alright?”

He stayed quiet for a long moment, gazing ahead blankly, the burning fury that simmered in his veins leaving him practically trembling, the desire to wreak havoc not yet dissipating.

Every part of him was wrought with tension, his mind a mess of thoughts, though his anger was the easiest to make sense of.

“Don’t try to convince me that what I did was wrong.” He spoke bitterly.

“I won’t.”

His jaw clenched, the events of the last few minutes running through his head on a loop, keeping him in the state of rage that made him shake, that made his hands twitch, wishing he had done more, wishing he could hurt that bastard the way he had been hurt all those years ago.

The thought briefly startled him. It was a thought he used to have frequently, when the rage in his heart was so new he didn’t know what to do with it. It was a thought he hadn’t focused on since being with her.

The revelation had an unfamiliar upset stirring within him.

“I should sleep in my old chambers tonight.” He muttered tersely.

The bitter anger burned within him, he felt on the edge of cracking and he would hate himself if he ever took it out on her, his sweet wife. He felt he needed to be far away from her to avoid darkening her with his presence.

“What?”

The sadness in her voice almost broke him. He closed his eye and bowed his head, he couldn’t bear to see the look on her face.

“I don’t want you to see me like this.”

It was quiet for a long moment, his words lingering in the room like an ominous death rattle that signaled the bitter end after a long, torturous fight.

But she refused to let him sink into his despair.

He flinched as she stepped before him, catching his gaze. Her hands smoothed out the doublet he wore, roaming upwards to brush the hair off his shoulders and gently caressing his neck as she reached up to hold his jaw affectionately.

He let out a deep breath, the tension slowly but surely easing from him in waves under her touch.

“I am not letting you feel this alone.” She told him, her voice soft yet stern, letting him know there was no way he would change her mind about this, that nothing could force her to accept his absence from her side.

“I don’t seem to recognize myself around them.”

His whispered confession hit her harder than she had expected and she felt her breath hitch in her throat, her own emotions rising to the surface at the sight of him so tormented.

“You can never undo what they took from you.” She began slowly, her voice wavering slightly. “I’ll never understand what you’ve been through. I wish I could and I’m so sorry I don’t, but you cannot let this consume you.”

His face remained a mask of torment, his derision and anger battling against the exhaustion that permeated his bitterness, that left him feeling weak in the aftermath of his rage.

She gently guided him to tilt his head upward so she could look at him, so he could see her and the resolution on her face and understand her honesty.

“You are more than your eye. You are more than the rage you feel when you look at them. You are more than them.”

He almost shuddered under her hands, the words striking him with force as though they were dealt with a physical hit.

“I see you, the real you. The one I fell in love with, my sweet husband, the father of my child.”

With that, she grabbed his hand to place it over her stomach and his expression changed in an instant, the anger gone as he caressed where his child grew.

He leaned forward, his forehead falling to rest against her chest, his arms circling her waist. He spread his legs, allowing her to step closer to him, her own arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding him tightly.

She ran her fingers through his hair, the soft motions pulling a soft sound from deep within him, his rigid body falling lax against her.

As she hugged him tightly she felt her eyes begin to sting with tears. She wished she could pull the agony from him, untangle the strings of rage that wound him so tightly.

She wished she could’ve gone back in time and held tighter to the wounded boy who hid his despair from her for so long.

The girls are fightinggg

And the angst is coming xx

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