#keep in mind aegon did this before Rhaenyra had done ANYTHING to him

[rynnthefangirl]

“Aegon didn’t want the throne! He was forced into it because he feared Rhaenyra would kill his family!”

Yeah, the guy who threw a feast to celebrate his brother murdering their nephew and starting a massive civil war definitely was just concerned about his family’s lives and wasn’t a power hungry psycho.

[asumi2020202]

Blessing disguised as a Curse

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!reader.

A/N: After the 1st episode of season two I'm currently obsessing over Jacaerys. So, many Jacaerys stories will be uploaded as well as Aemond cuz I Love him too. Thank you for reading this fiction.

Summary: You were Alicent's daughter. Younger than the three, Aegon, Aemond and Helaena but older than Daeron. After returning from Dragonstone, Rhaenyra proposes a marriage pact between her eldest and you. A man your mother had warned you about.

___________________________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ______

People and gatherings made you nervous. Anxiety coursed through your veins everytime someone started a conversation with you. Solitude was what you preferred. Your comfort was your sister and by some means her bugs as well.

Your mother warned you of the people that were coming back to Kings Landing. She told you to keep distance from them. Though you paid almost no mind to her words which were half controlled by your grandsire, you couldn't help but ponder about those people she talked about.

You knew them from the start before they fled to Dragonstone after taking your precious brother's eye. You had felt hatred towards them but 'what if they change?' You had thought countless of times.

You loved your siblings more than anything. Having a father only by name in the court and a stranger in the halls as he supported your half-sister with everything she had done even if it was killing someone.

You love them. You tried to be there for them through everything. You love Aegon even if was arrogant and misbehaving. You love Aemond even if he wanted revenge. You love Helaena even if she is called weird by others and is obsessed with bugs. You love Daeron even if you have almost no memory of him left.

_________________________________________

You were playing with little Jaehaerys and Jaehaera while Helaena was telling you more facts about bugs. She loved that her baby sister also had interest in her bugs and helps her catch them.

"Did you know that butterflies join their bodies together to reproduce?" Helaena asks you meeting your gaze.

"Really? I used to think they flap their wings together." You reply as you played with Jaehaerys while little Jaehaera sat on your lap.

"Hmm. The male butterfly often dies soon after they mate." Helaena spoke as her gaze shifted back on her embroidery.

"So then the female butterfl-" you were going to reply when the doors opened to reveal your mother.

Both you and Helaena looked up at her while the children were escorted away by the maids. " They have landed. Remember what I have told you my sweelings. Be on your best behaviours." Alicent spoke.

"Yes mother we understand " you replied speaking for both you and your sister. Alicent left the room after nodding at you.

_________________________________________

After meeting with her daughters, Alicent left their room. A maid informed her that Princess Rhaenyra had wanted to meet with her.

Alicent let the maid guide her to the room where Rhaenyra was present. When they reached the place, the maid opened the door to let the Queen inside.

Alicent was met with Rhaenyra. She could tell just by the looks that Rhaenyra was pregnant.

"It has been too long since we were granted the chance to converse" Alicent spoke, breaking the silence.

"Indeed it has been. I know you were busy with the royal matters at hand, so I asked for you at a time when you would be free." Rhaenyra replied looking into Alicent's eyes.

"Is there any important matter that you wish to discuss with me?" Alicent asked.

"Yes, there is one actually. The rift between us has lived far too long. I propose a marriage pact. My son Jacaerys will inherit the Iron Throne after me. Let my son and your youngest daughter be betrothed together so they shall rule together.

We are one family. And long before that we were close friends." Rhaenyra said and looked at Alicent for an answer.

"I sh-" Alicent was going to speak but Rhaenyra interjected.

"This marriage will help us reconcile with each other." She said.

"I shall think of it and give you your answer after the feast tonight." Alicent replied. "Thank you your grace." Rhaenyra smiled at her.

_________________________________________

Alicent had requested an audience with her father after meeting Rhaenyra to discuss about the marriage.

"Father I can't just sacrifice my child." Alicent pleaded. "I know Alicent but this marriage can help us take the throne and make Aegon the king." Otto reasoned.

"Tell Rhaenyra that you agree to this proposal. If y/n is married to her son then it will be easier to control them. When the throne is returned to the rightful heir, it will be easier to prevent war." Otto continued.

Alicent feeling defeated, agreed to her father's request.

_________________________________________

You were in your sister's chambers, waiting for her to get finished dressing up so you both could attend the feast together.

Your dress was simple yet the details on it were impressive. It was was a navy blue dress with golden details. It made you look ethereal.

When Helaena was done, the both of you left the chambers together. Holding tightly onto the hands of your sister as the maids escorted you to the feast hall.

All were seated at the table only getting up when Viserys arrived before sitting down again.

You were seated on the right side of Helaena as Aegon sat on her left. Aemond sat at the end of the table. Rhaena and Baela sat on your right. Starting small conversations which you could connect to and laugh with them.

You were trying hard to not feel nervous. You couldn't really face upfront only talking to Rhaena, Baela and Helaena.

Jacaerys had never thought you to be so beautiful over the years. When he first saw you after the years, he hadn't believed it was you. Only five and ten yet you were the most beautiful lady in his eyes. He had seen you accidentally when he was watching Aemond train, you stood in your balcony gazing at the sky. It was he who actually reasoned with his mother to marry you to him.

He couldn't take his eyes off of you during the feast. The way the dress showed your curves. The way you white hair was style. The necklace on your neck. He was in love.

You on the other hand couldn't even meet his gaze after what your mother told you.

'His brother took your brother's eye, who knows if one day he comes and decides to bring harm to us as well.' she had said.

Jace got up, walking upto you. Lending his hand forward, asking for a dance. You looked at your mother who just nodded. After which you had accepted his hand.

He led you to the side. The music had started. As you both started to dance. He didn't seem so bad. He seemed gentle, offering you bright smiles to which you just gave some small ones.

He looked different. Different than how your mother described him. Ruthless, arrogant, selfish and such.

After the feast, when the children went to their designated chambers, Alicent told Rhaenyra that she had accepted the marriage proposal. That she would try to forget the past and reconcile with her.

The two women decided that they shall break the news to the children and the king next morning, bidding each other a good night.

_________________________________________

You woke early as usual. Your maids had prepared you for the day. A knock on the door took your attention.

It was Jace.

The one who you felt some type of attachment to after the previous feast. He stood infront of your door as he said "Our mothers have requested an audience with us at the King's chambers. I was asked to inform you and take you to them."

"Very well then my prince, let us leave at once." You replied, getting up from your seat and walking down the corridor with him.

'My prince?' oh how sweet it sounded coming from your mouth. But he didn't want 'my prince', he wanted 'husband'.

He knew why they both were called, his mother told him yesterday night before he fell asleep. That the two would be married soon.

Upon arrival at the King's chambers, you greeted your mother, Rhaenyra and the king.

"Ah you've arrived. Do sit. Your mother and I have agreed on something and we wish for your answer as well." Rhaenyra said giving a smile while holding hands with Alicent like she used to when they were children.

You nodded your head as a sign for her to continue speaking.

"We have decided that you and my son Jace shall be betrothed together for the harmony of our family. Your mother has agreed and so has Jace but I wish for your answer." Rhaenyra finished her saying.

"It is a most judicious proposition. Wouldn't you agree daughter?" King Viserys who was resting in his armchair spoke up.

You looked at your mother, who stared at you and offered a smile and then to Jacaerys who looked around your face to find any kind of rejection.

You looked up at Rhaenyra, anxiety flaring through and spoke "if it can help the family be whole again and please my mother then I shall agree."

Rhaenyra's face brightened as did Jace's. Alicent only nodded.

"Well then. I believe we can start with the preparations right away." Rhaenyra said getting up to hold your hands as you looked up to her.

_________________________________________

"You've warned me my entire life about them mother, and now you simply marry me off to him. I don't get you." You spoke to your mother calmly.

"Sweetling, I know it is difficult for you but it is for the greater good. It is to uphold the realm and make peace." Alicent reasoned while placing her hand on your face.

No other word was spoken as you went back to your chambers.

You liked Jacaerys after the events of last night but you couldn't help but worry about what your mother told you. You couldn't help but worry about your siblings, you would have to leave your home and go to Dragonstone with them.

_________________________________________

Three days since that day, your wedding was held. You and Jace cut your lips and the your palms. Holding your hands together, you both drank from the same cup with your other hands. The septa reciting the vows the both of you had to take.

Your families bear witness of the event. Of the love that was to blossom.

After the feast that was held, you left for your now shared chambers in the red keep.

Jacaerys came in a moment after you. You felt nervous. It was your first night together. As if a miracle, he sense your nervousness.

"Is something bothering you dear wife? You even left the feast early." He asked softly not to startle you.

Wife. Oh how you knew you will love him just from how that word slipped from his mouth.

"It is nothing lord husband. It's just that I don't fare well in gatherings. I find solace in solitude." You reply back.

"Well I hope that from now on I can be your solace." Jacaerys replied with his bright smile as he came closer to you. Your chest almost touching his lower chest.

He was tall. You had tilt your head up to meet him. You didn't move aside as he cupped your cheeks and looked at your for permission.

As you nodded, he took the sign and kissed you. You both had consummated that night for the first time.

________________________________________

The day came when you had to leave with them to Dragonstone. You would eventually come back when Rhaenyra would be crowned.

You stood before your siblings and parents, kissing the cheeks of your siblings. "Will you come back soon?"

"Of course my little cuddle bears." You said as you crouched down to meet the level of your nephew and niece.

You climbed on top of your dragon, Moonfyre as they all bid you farewell. You heart saddened as you thought that Helaena would be alone now with Aegon ignoring her. Aemond might not even apply his ointments properly. And your mother.. would be lonely.

Moonfyre sensed your worry and sadness, letting out a low groan. She was as beautiful as the night. A white dragon whose color slowly went from white to grey. Eyes as bright as the moon, earning her name when she hatched.

_________________________________________

Viserys was dead. It had been moons since you left. A raven had informed Rhaenyra that her half brother Aegon had usurped the throne.

The weight of the matter forced her to go in labor. Her child was a stillborn. It pained her. You knew it tore her from the inside but she had to focus one the matters at hand.

Ser Eryyk had came with the crown of King Jaehaerys I. Daemon crowned her as the queen as all bowed. Otto came to make peace with them which resulted in rejection straight up in his face.

She sent her sons to earn the favor of other houses.

_________________________________________

"Y/n" you heard her call you from the back as stood near the stairs of Dragonstone, gazing at the sea.

"Come walk with me" she told you. As you both went down the stairs to the beach, you both had a gentle conversation.

"Do you wish to switch sides? I would not blame you if you do for they are your family." Rhaenyra spoke.

"All my life, I've seen them being neglected. By both father and mother. I was their and still am their comfort source.

Aegon always told me that he will not sit the iron throne. He told me that being a king will only hold him down in one place, and that he wishes to fly free like a dragon." You pause, looking at her eyes while gently holding her hand before continuing.

"And now they tell me that he has Usurped the throne. That he is now the king and that he now rules. That doesn't seem like the Aegon i know." You told her as she looked at you and nodded her head.

_________________________________________

You stood in the middle of Rhaena and Baela as see someone tell Rhaenyra a few words as she broke down.

She turned around, her eyes filled with rage and sorrow.

Lucerys was dead. Vhagar attacked him.

You felt helpless. Did your brother intentionally kill the Heir to Driftmark? You knew he had a deep hatred for Lucerys for taking his eye. But he wouldn't go as far as to kill him.

A raven had been sent to Jacaerys, informing him of the news. You couldn't face the queen. She knew you were innocent but that cannot pardon the sin of your brother.

You had began to open up but now your alone again. The little child seeking solitude. Hiding from people.

_________________________________________

A raven had arrived, delivering a letter to you. It was from the Red Keep. It was Aegon.

Dear Sister,

I know what has been done cannot be changed, but Aemond didn't actually wanted to kill Luke. It was grandsire. He got in his head like mother. He lost control over Vhagar.

I don't wish to rule. They told me that inorder for Rhaenyra to rule, she would have to kill us. That she would kill us all to secure the throne for her and her son. Grandsire said the same thing to Mother the other day, I had overheard it.

This war shouldn't happen. It will tear all of us apart. We are not the enemy of the blacks nor are they ours. Our enemy is Otto Hightower. He wants to rule the kingdom indirectly by being the hand.

Tell our half sister that we must work together. That I am willing to lay down my throne. She will be the Protector of the Realm. I know this is a crucial time for you but stay safe.

-Yours truly

Aegon.

You didn't know what to say. You were Alicent's daughter, who would believe you. They might consider you a traitor as well. You clutched the letter to your chest.

You walls finally broke. You broke down on the bed. It was him from the beginning. Otto Hightower. Anger and pain surrounded you. You cried as you brought your knees to your chest and hid your face there.

The door slowly opened which you hadn't noticed. It was Jacaerys. He had a melancholy look in his eyes as well as of guilt and hatred.

He hated seeing you cry. His Lady Wife. He gently put his head on your back. You looked up to meet his gaze with a tearful look.

The way he looked broke your heart. He looked used and betrayed. You got up and met his gaze again never letting go of the letter.

"Lord husband-" you started but he shakes his head as a no.

"Don't. Don't speak." He tried to say it normally but it came out cold as he walked towards the desk in your room to perhaps look for something.

"Please listen to me. He is innocent. I got a ra-" You started again but got cut off.

""Innocent?! He killed my brother! How can you possibly call him innocent?! My brother went as a messager. He vowed not to fight and Your Brother!..... Took advantage of that!" He screamed at you. For the first time. You had never seen him so angry even when your brothers teased him. He looked at you with hatred.

Tears flooded your vision again. He had never raised his voice at you. You knew it was due to the loss of his brother but that didn't hurt any less.

"I understand your pain. But you must listen to me! At least once hus-" you reasoned which angered him further.

"How can you understand My pain?! T'is I who lost my brother not you. And whats there to listen to? That your brother killed him accidentally?!

Tell me. Were you also a part of this? I truly thought you had loved me. But it seems you're the same as well!" He shouted again coming closer to you.

"I truly do love you. Please believe me!" Your tears flowed freely.

"No you don't. Tell me... Was this marriage also a scheme of you and your family?! Shut up, just shut up for once!"

Your eyes went wide. He wanted you to shut up. You were bothering him. He doubted your love for him. His own eyes widened a bit when he realised what he said. He left the chambers in a hurry not wanting to discuss about this further.

Your chest felt tight. You couldn't breathe properly. You had trouble while trying to inhale the air.

_________________________________________

As Jacaerys left the chambers, he felt as if his clothes were too tight for his body. He saw Baela and Rhaena bringing your food to your chambers like they have been since the day they received the news of Luke.

They nodded at him as he reciprocated.

As they went inside the chambers, a scream could be heard. Possibly from Baela. It could be heard from all the corners of the castle.

Jace heard it before anyone else as his heart stopped. He rushed straight back to the shared room as he saw Baela cradling your unconscious, small form to her chest while Rhaena panicked and told the maids to call for the maesters.

His breathing stopped as he saw his mother and Princess Rhaenys enter the room along with the maester and maids. His mother looked at him as his eyes filled with tears.

First he lost Lucerys he can't lose you too. He didn't mean anything he said.

_________________________________________

Jacaerys paced around the hall infront of your room. He watched as Rhaena guided his little brother Joffery to his room. Joffery was fond of you which warmed Jace's heart.

As the maesters came out both he and Rhaenyra stood up.

"How is she?" He asked them.

"She has a heavy fever. It possibly happened due to excessive stress. She must have bed rest. " The maesters spoke before leaving.

_________________________________________

It had been 2 days. You were yet to wake up. Moonfyre's cries and wails could be heard from everywhere. She was uncomfortable. Her bonded sister was not well and she could sense it.

Jace held your hand as he apologized over and over again. His tears wetting the sheets.

Your eyes slowly opened. Adjusting to the bright light. Jace looked up to see you now wide awake, trying to sit up.

"No no lay down. You need rest. The maester said you were stressed." He said. His voice quivering.

"Don't cry. I understand your part. I'm sorry I am not what you wish for. I know you wouldn't want to be with a murderer's sister. Hence I give you full permission to take a second wife." You gently said while looking at him.

"No shut up." He said lowly not believing what you said. "I didn't mean anything I said that day. I am sorry." He spoke.

You looked out the window remembering the last time he had asked you to shut up. Tears again filled your eyes which you blinked away but Jace noticed.

"My love i didn't mean it that way. Please believe me." He pleaded shaking his head as held your hand tight.

News spreads fast in the castle. A maid had informed the rest that you were awake. Daemon was with Caraxes and lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys were somewhere on the beach.

Rhaenyra, Rhaena and Baela came to the your chambers. The sisters came beside you as they held onto your hand.

Even though you were the daughter of their enemy, they loved you. You were different.

Rhaenyra looked at her son before turning her gaze to you. She felt disappointed in her son after she learned about the argument.

You asked Rhaena for the letter kept on your bedside table as your body was too weak to move. You probably need a few more weeks to be healthy again.

You asked her to give it Rhaenyra.

As Rhaenyra opened the letter and read it's contents, she felt clueless. She didn't realise the state of the other side. Her companion was manipulated from the start.

She held your hand and gave you a sad look. She handed the letter to Jace as she thought that he should read it as well.

His heart broke. You tried to tell him everything but he refused to listen. You tried to explain everything but he only badmouthed you.

Rhaenyra promised you that Otto Hightower will be punished and that none of your siblings would be harmed.

_________________________________________

Calling of your name came from two bubbly voice as they ran to you. You crouched down and opened your arms. The force of your nephew and niece's weight made you fall flat on your butt.

Jacaerys smiled as he saw the reunion. Infront of him stood your four siblings whom you kissed on the cheeks and hugged after getting up.

It was Rhaenyra's official coronation day. Otto Hightower was beheaded for his schemes against the crown.

Rhaenyra and Alicent were finally together again after Rhaenyra found Daemon with Nettles.

All of the royal family stood as King Jaehaerys' crown was placed upon her head. All gave their respects to their first queen.

Jacaerys held your hand tight as he smiled at you which you reciprocated.

_________________________________________

As night fell over kings landing, you and Jace retired to your new shared chambers.

"Husband. Join me in bed." You requested. Your body glowing in your night gown because of the moonlight.

"Of course avy jorrāelan." Jace replied as he climbed on top of the bed and over your body, pinning you down.

He kissed you passionately as one of your hand cupped his face while the other held onto his neck for support.

His naked chest glowed like yours in the moonlight.

"You are most precious thing I have my love." He said as pulled away from your lips.

"And you, my lord husband, came in my life like a blessing disguised as a curse." You said as you both looked at each other and hungrily kissed each other.

The two of slept a long time after consummating the entire night.

He truly did came in your life like a Blessing disguised as a Curse.....

-Lillian

[sublimitymp3]

Do you, brother?

Pairing ✵ Aegon Targaryen/Younger sister!reader

Warnings ✵ Hotd season 2 spoilers, incest, swearing, smut (Dub-con, p in v, fingering, choking, slight breeding kink), mentions of death, mentions of child loss, descriptions of birth, and heavy themes

Word count ✵ 2.6k

Summary ✵ The death of your son leaves behind a shadow upon everything, and after an overwhelming funeral procession for him, your evasive brother finally comes to you in the night.

Jaehaerys

Your little boy. Jae-hae-rys. The syllables roll off your tongue in a smooth manner, as they always have done. Sweet Jaehaerys. The very thought of the name conjures memories in your mind of the day you labored him and his twin into the world, screaming and writhing in pain as you felt as though you were being torn apart at the seams. He was a small, splotchy babe, who exited you covered in blood and wailing and squirming in the maester's arms. But even through your delirium and searing pain, you knew then what love was.

He was a precocious boy, eager to learn and to explore the world. "He has the makings of a very fine king," you recall your grandfather telling you once. The thought of Jaehaerys on that throne made your stomach feel uneasy, and the words loomed over you, lingering in the back of your mind and refusing to leave.

Even now it still lingers.

The once dreadful notion has been reduced to a silly daydream, for Jaehaerys will never be king. He will never grow, never explore the world, never ride his dragon, and you will never cradle him in your arms again.

It feels wrong to carry on. It feels wrong to do much of anything with the knowledge that your sweet Jaehaerys will exist only in memory now. Your mother tries to console you, to hug you in her cold arms, but you do not want her now. After all, what does she know about losing a child? The funeral procession your grandfather insisted on felt even more wrong than anything else.

Your son, the martyr.

Hundreds of the smallfolk clambered over each other to catch a glimpse of your little boy, and you. Your tears bought their sympathy and a new resentment for Rhaenyra, but it mattered little to you. They had sewn his head back on, you saw. It was an ugly sight, where black thread met severed skin.

Jaehaerys

How you longed to climb over to the cart carrying his body just so you could hold your boy one last time, but your mother's steadying and sobering grip on your knee kept you from doing so. "Deepest sympathies, my queen!" "Curse Rhaenyra!" "We love you, our queen!" Their shouts of support felt more like a ringing in your ear than anything. You didn't want this. You only wanted everything to be quiet.

You had a headache and felt nothing but exhaustion, and you couldn't even bring yourself to weep any longer. It was as if you were wrung dry. You cursed under your breath at the seemingly endless flights of stairs in the Red Keep, for all you wanted to do was to go and lay in bed. But then you saw him. First, you saw his hair, hair much like yours, only it was messily cropped short. Next was his eyes, violet in color and mirrors of your own. The scowl upon his handsome face, well, you didn't care for it, but you couldn't pry your eyes away. You found yourselves gawking at each other on the stairwell, and only then did you remember how much Jaehaerys looked like Aegon.

"Your grace, I-" Is all you can say before Aegon quickly turns away from you and hurries down the steps. You stand there, watching as the head of silver hair swiftly disappears from your line of sight. You snap your mouth close, pressing your lips into a firm line and continuing up the stairs. 'Foolish girl, when has he ever confronted anything in his life?' you cannot help but think.

You don't see your husband for around two weeks. Fleeting glimpses in the hallways, mentions of him from your mother, and murmurs about the king from the courtiers are all you have of him during that time.

As you prepare yourself for bed, you try to banish all thoughts of him from your mind to get some semblance of much-needed sleep. The nights seemed so long and torturous now, and yet you hardly could find sleep no matter what you did. Tonight was the first night in what seemed like centuries that you finally felt tired, and you wasted no time settling into bed to drift into a slumber.

You dream odd things, nonsensical things you'll forget when you wake, mostly. And even more odd, you begin to dream of Aegon. Of his strangely soft hands on you, of him pushing your nightdress up to your hips, and of him maneuvering you onto your back. It feels real, but you know it isn't. He won't come near you, no, not now. But even your mind begins to suggest otherwise.

With an irritated whine, you feel yourself being pulled from your sleep. It is only when you open your eyes to curse at what you assumed was a maid disturbing you, that your assumptions are quickly proven wrong.

Aegon is on top of you, staring unblinkingly into your eyes. Salty, hot tears drip from him onto your face, and his hand clamps down over your mouth before you can question him. You must make a face unwittingly, for he begins to speak,

"Shh, shh, it's alright, it's just me...just me," Aegon soothes, and you smell the wine on his warm breath. He's drunk. Or at the very least near drunk. "I-I am sorry, sorry for you, sorry for our boy. Oh, my poor son," his words are ever so slightly slurred, and he retracts himself to sit on the edge of the bed and weep in his drunken stupor.

You sit up, a bit startled to discover your nightgown bunched up by your hips. Your smallclothes were even pulled down a bit, but not fully. You realize now what he was attempting to do, and you can only sit in a tense silence with him. "He was my son too, you know," he mumbles like a petulant child, once he catches a glimpse of your resentful face.

"I grieve him just as much as you, mayhaps even more. He was my heir, my only heir," his words linger in the stagnant air, not sitting well with you. His gaze unnerves you even more, staring at you expectantly. The implications in his voice are clear to you; he means to beget another heir.

"Take another wife then, I am tired," The brazen words escape you (before you can think) in a whisper, and you lay back down, wasting no time to turn your back to him. "I don't want to again, I can't again. No more, Aegon." and you close your eyes, letting your tears roll down the side of the face.

You refuse to subject yourself to it all over again. To the aches, the uncomfortable swell of your belly, and the terrible pain birth brought. You know what it will all end in. It's a deep knowledge that has burrowed itself between your bones, embedded itself in your brain, and wrapped around your heart.

The Stranger will come for you all, surely.

The bed dips again as he shifts himself closer to you, and he grabs your shoulder in a bruising grip to turn you onto your back. His face gets so close to yours that the tip of his nose nudges your own, and you feel his warm breath fanning against your lips.

"I wasn't asking what you thought of it. You're my wife, my little sister. You were born for me to have. A king needs an heir, surely you understand that? You're not a stupid girl," he brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, mockingly, almost.

He manages to wedge himself between your thighs, and you feel his wandering fingers pull down your smallclothes. "Aegon-" "Don't say a word, don't say a damn thing," he interrupts, irritated by your unwilling mood. "Wouldn't it be nice to have another little babe to rock in your arms? Hm? We'll make more, yes? Enough to fill this fucking castle," Aegon grunts, pushing his fingers past your folds. A whine involuntarily escapes you at the invasive feeling, and even more so as he pumps his fingers in and out.

In and out, in and out, in and out.

You feel your body give into his ministrations and get wet. 'Betrayal,' you think. A pleased hum escapes from him as you leak onto his fingers, and you feel your cheeks burn with shame. This isn't right. No, no after what has happened.

"You weep down here too, did you know, sweet sister?" He mumbles, pulling his fingers out of you just to drag them along your dripping folds. A shiver runs up your spine at his actions, forcing you to bite your tongue to muffle any noises. You don't want him to hear you. You don't want to give him that satisfaction.

He fully retracts his fingers, and you know what is next. He undresses himself quickly, untying his breeches and tunic with a practiced speed before pulling your nightdress off of you, leaving you vulnerable and cold. He chuckles at your little shivers and the way you wrap your arms around yourself protectively. "Shh, do not worry, you'll be warm soon enough," he laughs as if this is a lighthearted moment between two lovers. Your stomach churns slightly.

"You're so beautiful, you know. I've never thought otherwise. So pretty like this, all for me," he whispers against the shell of your ear as he lines himself up with your cunt.

The burning stretch of the intrusion is what you feel first. It has been long since he bedded you, and your body had forgotten the feel of him. "F-Fuck, how are you so tight? Like you're trying to squeeze me to death," he groans against your neck, before suckling bruises into your soft skin. He bottoms out completely, and you feel his tip brushing against your sweet spot.

It's overwhelming for you. It's too much. You close your eyes and let your mind drift to happier days. Days long before you called Aegon husband, days when you would play with your sister by your mother's skirts. Days when the most daunting task was getting out of bed or letting the maids bathe you. It almost brings a smile to your face. Almost.

Your blissful daydreams and nostalgia are interrupted by Aegon gently slapping your cheek repeatedly, rudely reminding you of where you are now. "Hey, hello, where are you? Look at me, for fucks sake," he grumbles, slowing his thrusts you only now are noticing. He grips your face in his hands, forcing you to stare into his familiar violet eyes.

It's cruel to have to stare into your own eyes while this happens, you think.

"Don't do that again. Think of me," he whispers against your lips, his voice a bit shaky and heavy with lust. "Only me, and this."

His thrusts resume, and his lips are soon pressed against yours. He kisses you with a greedy, bruising force as if he's trying to devour you whole.

"Messy girl," he muses as he wipes drool off your chin with his thumb, and the action is oddly tender to you. The tip of his cock keeps brushing against your sweet spot, making your mind turn to mush and your legs turn to jelly.

You hate how Aegon has this talent to make your resolve slip with only a few touches and kisses. You could be upset with him for weeks on end, and yet all he had to do was hold you down and you'd soon forget whatever grievance you held against him.

"A-Aegon, brother, please-" you whine, even more so as he maneuvers your knees to press against your chest. He holds you down like this and the new angle allows him to push further into you. The sound of skin against skin reverberates in your chambers around you as he drives into you at a faster pace.

"Stay still, stay still. Quit squirming, don't you trust me, sweet girl?" He huffed, still irked by your light resistance. His hand reaches back down to your weeping cunt, and his thumb rubs gentle circles into your bud. The added stimulation makes you cry out with overwhelming pleasure, and you feel like your very bones are gyrating.

"There we go," he smirks, dragging out his words. He's found the combination that makes you fall apart around him and he finds it satisfying. "You like that, don't you? 'Course you do, sweet girl. You were made for me, made to take my cock and bear my children. You were born to be mine. Nothing more, nothing less," He groans, his own peak beginning to build up.

His words ignite a fire in your belly, and it feels so wrong. His words are mocking, demeaning even, and on any other given day and situation you'd have retorted and isolated yourself from him until you calmed down. But this night was not simply any other night. His words and his movements bring you closer and closer to the edge, and the coil in your belly tightens up as it prepares to snap.

"Aegon, gods, keep going, please don't stop-" you moan, lost now in the bliss of it all. You selfishly buck your hips against his, desperate for your own impending release.

"I got you, pretty girl. Go on, let go for me, sweet sister," and with his words, the tightly wound coil in you snaps. It is a white-hot pleasure that wracks through your body, and you feel as though you are floating.

You come to when you feel Aegon increasing the pace of his already rough thrusts. He is close, you can tell. You have no strength to tell him to pull out, to beg him not to finish inside. He's fucked you too good for that. Maybe that was his plan after all, you think.

"F-Fuck, I'm so close, sweetling. I'll fill you up, make sure you're nice and full with my seed. In nine moons time, we'll have another little boy, hm? Another silver-haired beauty," he pants, before his grip that still pushes your knees against your chest tightens. He brings one hand to squeeze around your throat, and you feel his fingers dig into the sides of your neck. There will be a bruise there in the morning, no doubt.

His movements are rough and fast as he chases his release, and soon, his steady pace falters and his hips stutter to a halt. "Gods be good," he moans, slumping over to bury his face into the crook of your neck. Spurts of his warm and sticky seed coat your velvety walls, a familiar feeling. Surely you will be with child by the next month.

Exhaustion is what you feel. Exhaustion, and a pang of sadness in your heart. Another babe you will have to labor into the world, another pawn in this war. Another victim of this needless bloodshed, as brother and sister tear each other apart.

Aegon gently kisses your lips, rubbing your stomach with his hand, no doubt imagining you are pregnant already. "I love you, I really do." He whispers, holding you close and breaking you from those thoughts of impending doom.

Violet eyes meet violet eyes, and you gaze upon his features that are not dissimilar to your own. The very same blood that runs through you, runs through him. The same blood that ran through your son, you think. You do not know what to make of his drunken declaration, and it is like your body speaks for you then;

"Do you, brother?"

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[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats Pt. 4

Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, child birth, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“What is the meaning of this?” Rhaenyra cannot imagine what might cause such commotion in the middle of the night.

“The dragon keepers have just calmed Sunfyre, who’s been having a fit for the better part of three hours.” Daemon informs her.

“Why is this news?” Rhaenyra wonders, “you needed only to wake Prince Aegon so that he might calm his own dragon.”

“That was my intention, your grace.” Daemon assures her, “until it was brought to my attention that Stormborn had been taken from the pit.”

“Where is she now?”

“Her grace’s dragon has since been returned to the pit.”

“Where is my daughter now?” Rhaenyra asks.

The room falls silent, everyone glancing toward one another.

“We believe the princess to be abed.”

“Not one of you thought to make certain?” The Queen all but shouts, panic coursing through her.

“We thought it best not to disturb the princess while she is abed, your grace.” Not without permission from the queen herself…certainly not after the last time.

Prince Aegon was in quite a state, threatening to castrate any member of the royal guard who happened upon his beloved wife in the throes of passion.

“Never you mind, I will see to her myself.” The Queen stalks down to her daughter’s room, pounding at the door.

It is Aegon who answers, “Rhaenyra?”

“I need to see her.”

Aegon hesitates, looking to his wife, who nods her approval. “She’s just there.” He takes a step back, allowing his half sister entry.

Y/N sits upon her bed in a pristine blush sleeping gown, hair still damp from the bath. “Mother.”

“Tell me the truth of it.” Rhaenyra approaches, hovering over her bedside. “Where were you this night?”

“With Aegon.”

Rhaenyra steals herself, “where were you whilst Sunfyre was howling in the pit? I know you took Stormborn, I have it on good authority. Tell me now, Y/N, where did you go?”

“To Harrenhal.”

Rhaenyra blanches, clutching her chest. “Why?” She sobs, “why would you do such a thing, knowing the risk?”

“Mother, I-”

“I have lost two of my children, I will not survive the loss of a third.”

“I have not done this to harm you, mother. But I am tired of being in pain. You’ve no idea how it feels to be tugged at by opposing sides, until you are torn down the middle.”

“Sweet girl,” Rhaenyra sighs.

“I understand why you needed Aegon and I to marry. I do not fault you for it, but times are different now. I love him, mother. Not for the crown, or the realm, or even peace. He is one half of me.”

“I wish you’d come to me, instead of facing all these troubles alone. I will always be your mother, no matter if you are a woman grown, you will not outgrow my love for you so long as I live.”

Y/N nods. “I love you dearly, mother. I want only to make you proud.”

“I am proud.” Rhaenyra assures her, “you needn’t prove yourself to me.”

“Then might I ask you to set a place for my husband at your table? Say it is not too late.”

“And what of Aemond?” Rhaenyra asks, mulling it over.

“He is gone.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Yes.” Y/N whispers.

“Show me.”

Y/N lifts her nightgown to reveal the charred skin of her wound.

“Alright,” Rhaenyra lowers the material once she’s gotten a good look. She kisses the top of her daughter’s head, “we will have the maester come with salve to dress it.”

Y/N nods.

“Have you taken anything for the pain?”

“Milk of the poppy.”

Rhaenyra’s hand is trembling as it passes over her daughter’s hair a second time. “Aegon, might you bring the maester?”

“Of course,” he nods. Stealing himself before wandering down the hall and away from his beloved wife. Returning with the maester, who begins tending the wound immediately.

“Is there anything else I might get you?” Rhaenyra asks, keeping hold of her daughter’s hand.

Y/N is mostly joking when she murmurs to her mother, “cake?”

Rhaenyra smiles, “I will see to it.”

Y/N relaxes as best she can to the poking and prodding.

“Aegon,” Rhaenyra nods toward the hall, “a word?”

“Of course,” Aegon follows her out.

“I owe you a debt, for taking care of my daughter. Y/N is the world to me, as she is to you.” Rhaenyra says. “Know that as I walk this path to reclaim the throne, we do so hand in hand. We are one house, as our father so willed it.”

Aegon nods, “thank you.”

————————————————————————

Years ago, after the council meeting where Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent agreed to the terms of their children’s betrothal; King Viserys himself called for Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N in his quarters.

It is put plainly before them, what is expected. What this union is meant to do; ease the strain between their two families.

“Stand together.” The king insists.

Y/N and Aegon inch toward each other.

“This will be expected of you from now on. You are betrothed, you will act as such.”

“Yes, father.”

“Yes, grandsire.”

At dinners they sit together, during shared lessons, anytime they are in the same room.

Stand together.

The princess continues her training alongside Helaena while her brothers and her betrothed argue regularly. The boys only find common ground when teasing Aemond for not having a dragon.

Queen Alicent appreciates these childish games least of all and raises her concerns with the King.

It is Y/N, having the least to do with any of it, who is summoned by her grandsire and his wife.

“Come sit, darling girl.” Viserys smiles, guiding Y/N over to his model of Old Valyria.

She nods, “thank you, your grace.”

“How are you enjoying your studies?”

“Very well,” Y/N tells him.

“I am glad to hear it. Even the septa has nothing but good things to say. You will make a fine queen, my girl.”

Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. “It pleases me to hear you say this, Grandsire. I wish only to make you proud.”

Viserys takes her hand, “surely you understand that you are a reflection of your mother and myself, in your actions and your words.”

“Yes, of course.” Y/N squeezes his fingers.

“The time has come for you to consider those whose actions reflect on you.”

“I do not understand.”

“He is referring to your brothers, who wreak havoc on the whole of us.” Alicent chimes in.

“Oh, Alicent.” Viserys waves her away, “they are boys yet. I meant our Aegon.”

“Aegon?” Alicent scoffs, “those are the actions that trouble you?”

“He will soon be a man grown and future king consort. If he is to marry my granddaughter, he must act with dignity and grace.”

“Do you not see the true issue, your grace?” Alicent demands.

“You asked me to speak with Rhaenyra’s children,” Viserys reminds her, “is this not Rhaenyra’s child?”

Alicent locks eyes with Y/N, she is so young, so eager to please her family. “This child is not the issue.”

“You are correct, dear wife.” The king grins, “she is the solution. Y/N, you will go to Aegon, say what you must to light a fire beneath him. So that he too might behave in a manor befitting his station. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your grace.”

“Good,” Viserys releases her, “go now.”

Y/N stands, making her way to the door.

“See how easy that was?” Viserys turns to his wife, now standing with her back to him.

Y/N has some trouble locating the Prince, eventually she happens upon him on the stairs. “Prince Aegon,” she calls his attention.

The boy rolls his eyes at her. “Yes, my betrothed.”

“Might you walk with me to the gardens?”

“Do I have any choice?”

Y/N smirks, with a shake of her head. “No.”

“By all means, lead the way.” Aegon waves a hand, following her like an animal on a chain.

“The king and I had a rather illuminating conversation earlier.”

“And what did you discuss? How elated he is to seat you, a bastard, on the iron throne over me, his first born son?” Aegon cocks his head to the side.

“No, though I am sure he will be ‘elated’ to hear that his first born son called me a bastard, in the middle of the garden, for everyone to hear.”

Aegon clears his throat, “I would not say it in front of anyone.”

"This place is crawling with vermin, their eyes and ears are upon us at all times."

"You mean to tell me we have rats?"

"Not everything can be taken so literally, my prince."

Aegon stares through her, every word going over his pretty blonde head.

"Look, there's your father now." Y/N points, "watching us from his balcony."

Aegon whips around, spotting the king.

"Smile and wave, let him believe we are having a grand time."

Aegon does as he's told, earning a nod from Viserys. "Are we not?"

True to his word, Aegon does not call her a bastard again, to her face or behind her back. When Aemond’s eye is lost, the truth of it comes out.

Y/N and Aegon begin moving closer, behind Aemond’s chair. Stand together. Perpetually closing the space between their two houses.

When Alicent scolds Aegon for not protecting his brother, Y/N is near enough to receive a second hand lashing by her tongue. And when his mother’s palm meets his cheek, in a stinging slap, his hair brushes Y/N’s skin.

“What was that for?”

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool.”

“The legitimacy of my children’s births were called loudly to question.” Rhaenyra informs the king. “Vile insults were levied against them.”

“What insults?” Viserys sneers.

“He called us bastards.” Jacaerys says.

“Where did you hear such things, boy?” The king demands of the injured prince.

Aemond is quiet then, not willing to tell the truth. He first heard it from his mother, long before his brother. But Aegon has said it, many a time, before he abruptly stopped. “It was Aegon.”

Viserys rounds the chair, to confront his eldest son, with his eyes cast downward.

By the gods, let this humiliation end swiftly.

“Aegon!”

Stand together.

Y/N must not abandon her post.

“Yes, father.”

“Is this true?”

“It is.” Aegon admits, “and I am sorry for it. I am the elder, I should not have poisoned Aemond’s mind with such hatred. Especially as…these allegations are untrue. It was my mistake, forgive me.”

King Viserys takes a step back, “the next tongue to question the parentage of Princess Rhaenyra’s children will be removed.”

Y/N lets out a shuttering breath, catching her grandsire’s attention.

He offers her a reassuring smile, after threatening to cut out his children’s tongues. It feels wrong to be treated so differently, standing inches apart.

When the preceding is at an end, and Rhaenyra’s blood has been split, Y/N goes to find Aegon. He is tucked in against the grand archway, drowning in cups. "I brought you more wine."

Aegon eyes her warily, accepting the glass, “and what do you want?"

"May I sit with you?"

"If you wish."

Y/N takes a seat on the cool, stone floor beside him. "Thank you, for saying what you did.”

"My mother did not appreciate it."

Y/N hesitates, "I know it is not my place, but I do not like when she strikes you. Perhaps I could discuss it with your father?”

"My father? Who loves me least of all his children?" Aegon shakes his head. "A lot of good that would do.”

"They should not treat you that way."

“You care for me," he realizes. The thought alone makes his stomach turn.

"Should I not?”

"I would not know how to care for you in return."

"You defended me, in front of both our families.” Y/N challenges. “If that is not caring for me, I don't know what is."

Aegon feels the weight of her head resting against his shoulder, and he does not pull away.

"I am sorry for what happened to Aemond. I hope he finds peace and swift healing."

"If it were either of your brothers who’d been maimed, my father would pluck out Aemond’s eye himself and present it to Rhaenyra on a platter. There is no peace in that.”

Aegon becomes fiercely protective of his brother after that.

Y/N does not fault him for it.

The debacle of Driftmark sets their nuptials back several years. The blacks and greens remain in negotiation until Aegon is twenty and one and Y/N is ten and eight. At which point, Viserys proclaims they must either marry before the moon turns, or end the engagement to free both their hands for marriage.

Reluctantly, they are bound before the eyes of thousands.

Stand together.

They recite traditional Valyrian vows, sealing their covenant in blood. Sharing a dance or two before being whisked away to consummate said marriage, as other members of the wedding party drink merrily in the grand hall.

————————————————————————-

“Are they gone?” Y/N asks, toying anxiously with her wedding ring.

“They have strict orders,” Aegon sighs, “the appointed members of council cannot leave until they’ve heard a proper consummation.” He climbs into bed with her, both fully dressed in their marriage attire.

“We best get to it then.” Y/N begins plucking pins from her hair. The tapestry of braids falling free.

“Unless you’d rather have a bit of fun.”

“How do you mean?”

Aegon grins, “we could pretend.”

“Really?”

“This marriage is ours, no one else’s. When I bed you that will be ours and no one else’s.”

Stand together.

“How would we-”

Aegon rises up on his knees, gripping the headboard. “I will do the heavy lifting. Just lie back and think of the crown.”

Y/N covers her face with both hands as he begins thrusting at the air. The springs beneath them groan and crackle.

Aegon peeks down at her to find a smile painted across her lips, despite her shielded eyes. “Let them hear you, sweetheart. Make it believable.”

Y/N nods, releasing a sound she imagines a person might make while exchanging intimacies.

“Not like that.” Aegon chuckles, “they’ll think I’m murdering you.”

“I do not know how.”

“Have you never touched yourself?” He breathes.

“Never.”

Gods, he’s going to enjoy her. “That’s alright,” he continues his movements to jostle the mattress. “Just do as I do.” Aegon lets his mouth fall open, releasing a low moan.

The sound that escapes Y/N in return is not entirely forced. It makes her belly burn with desire.

They continue on like this for a while before Aegon murmurs, “big finish.”

“So quickly?” Y/N’s brow furrows.

Aegon’s eyes flicker about her, “I can’t imagine it will take long.”

As the grand finale comes to a close, Aegon makes for his dagger. Slicing his finger at the tip and allowing blood to pool before dragging the crimson stain across the bed sheet. He strips it from the bed, walking it to the door. “Deliver this to her majesty the Queen. I know she is impatiently waiting.”

Y/N begins pacing, beside the bed.

“They are gone. We are alone.”

She nods, “thank you, Aegon. For all of it.”

————————————————————————-

When Aegon does eventually bed her, it is well worth the wait.

“By the gods, that is not going to fit inside me.”

Aegon huffs a laugh, “I promise it will, darling girl. We must prepare you first.”

“How,” Y/N squeals.

He hushes her, lying open mouthed kisses across her collarbones.

“Will it hurt?”

“Not if I can help it.” He plans to burying his face between her thighs and bring her to the heavens. But the sweet little thing wants only to be held, kissed. Aegon lies beside her, one hand stroking her dark hair, the other moving down to her breasts, kneading them gently.

“You are beautiful,” he breathes.

“As are you.” She pants, moving her lips against his.

Aegon chuckles, “flattery will get you places.” He rolls her nipple between his fingers, flicking over it with the pad of his thumb.

Her hips rise of their own accord, grinding herself against his entwined leg.

“Slowly, my darling.”

Y/N nods, kissing him again to distract herself from the building ache between her legs.

Feather light caresses trail down to her sex, collecting a bit of wetness and slipping a finger into her heat. Pumping slowly, getting her used to the sensation.

“That feels nice.” She breathes, tugging at his hair.

Aegon smiles, “can you take another?”

“Yes.”

Aegon adds a second digit, working her open, pushing a bit deeper to her sweet spot. His fingers curl against it, relishing her little gasps. The princess is close now.

“Ahh,” she grasps his forearm.

“I know, sweetheart, I know.”

“I-”

“Don’t cry.” By the seven, she is gripping his fingers like a vise.

“I cannot help it.” Her thighs tremble in earnest now.

“That is your peak, darling girl. You’re alright, I promise.” He continues stroking, pressing the base of his hand flush with her swollen pearl, applying gentle pressure until she finds bliss. He pets at her hair as she cries out. “Good girl,” he coos, working her through the crest and bringing her back down.

“That was heavenly,” she sighs, steadying her breathing.

You are heavenly.

“Might we do it again?”

Aegon chuckles, “as many times as you’d like.”

————————————————————————

In the early days of their marriage, Aegon realizes that his wife has a nasty habit of bedding him and waiting until he finds sleep to sneak off. Holding after hours council with her mother.

The practice itself does not upset him, but this night, her absence is especially troubling, as they have been drinking since dinner. His sweet wife is not well versed in wine drinking. She laughed so hard she cried and then rode him to kingdom come.

Aegon tosses back the covers, pulling on his clothes and moving quickly through the halls of the keep. He rounds the nearest corridor, colliding with his wife, running at full speed. “Sweetheart?”

“I was looking for you,” Y/N smiles.

“Where have you been?”

“Well, I could not find sleep so I went to the maester to ask for a draft.”

“Then you’ve been to the maester?” Aegon holds her at arms length, searching for any sign of harm.

“I was on my way to the maester when I happened across one of the groundskeeper’s wives and we got to talking.” Y/N admits, with a hiccuping laugh.

“What could you possibly be talking about for over an hour?”

“Just about everything, she is a lovely woman.” Y/N tells him.

Aegon nods, with a patient smile.

“I might have stayed longer, but it came up in conversation…all the ways a woman might please her husband. And I could not wait to tell you.”

“Seven hells,” Aegon groans.

“The smallfolk share things in the marriage bed I’ve never even heard of.” Y/N muses. “She told me that, on occasion, she puts his cock between her breasts and he-”

“Who is this woman, my darling? Did you get a name?”

“I do not remember her name. I’ve been drinking.”

“I’m well aware,” Aegon’s face softens. “Next time you cannot find sleep, wake me instead.”

Y/N nods.

“In return, I will teach you all the things a husband and wife might do together. I will even demonstrate, should you find it necessary.”

“Oh, could you?” Y/N grabs for his hands, in excitement.

Aegon sighs, “you will be the death of me.”

She leaves him little notes each time after, when she must go to attend her family.

‘My dearest Aegon, I will return soon. I could not stand to wake you from such a peaceful slumber. Worry not, I will always return to you.’

And she does, after council meetings and late nights with her mother. She always returns.

————————————————————————

After a particularly long week, Aegon avoids Y/N purposely. Attempting to clear the room when he finds her there.

“Have I done something?” Y/N stops him.

Aegon shakes his head, “it has been a long day. I do not wish to burden you.”

“When you are upset you may come to me.”

Aegon fights the urge to pull away, to ignore her until she leaves.

“I will hold you.” It isn’t much, but it is all she knows. The way her mother comforts her.

Aegon says nothing, sitting down to bury his head in his hands.

Y/N sighs, winding her arms around his shoulders, feeling them begin to shake.

He reaches for her slowly, as if such comfort might burn him, or she would simply bat his hand away. She doesn’t of course, she allows him to bring her closer, now seated in his lap.

The princess says not a word as her husband works himself free of his breeches. Taking her small clothes and skirt aside.

“It helps,” he tells her. “You help.”

He goes to her then, when the day is long. When there is news to share, on occasion, just to say hello. He goes to her because he can.

————————————————————————-

During dinners at the Red Keep they whisper secrets and share hushed laughter. When he grows tired of that, Aegon’s fingers toy with her pretty little cunt beneath the table, to watch her squirm.

“I love you.” He confesses, meeting her gaze as she turns to him at the height of her pleasure.

Y/N bites down on the inside of her cheek, holding perfectly still as Aegon works her through her peak. Withdrawing his fingers and wiping them clean on the fabric of her skirts. “I love you.”

No one is the wiser. Save for Otto, who knows all; or rather likes to believe he does.

Gone is any hope that the blacks or greens might use their influence to sway the tides from one side to another. Y/N and Aegon belong to each other now, a danger in its own right.

News of the princess’s pregnancy sparks a joyous celebration throughout the realm, only to be outshone by news of the birth. Two perfect little girls. Twins, named Dahlia and Visera, respectively.

“They are perfect, my dearest love.” Aegon marvels when they are placed in his arms.

Y/N nods.

“Are you well?” He asks, swaying from side to side.

Whether from weariness or the question itself, Y/N bursts in to tears.

Aegon carefully gives his daughters over to the maids. Climbing onto the freshly dressed bed with Y/N to hold her, stroking dark locks. “Shh, it’s alright.”

“It was awful,” Y/N sobs, clutching at him.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Everyone was barking commands at me, trying to rush the babe out, even worse with the second and my mother was the one person speaking against it.”

“Oh, my darling girl.” He sighs.

“I was tired and frightened…and the pain is unimaginable. I do not wish to do it again.”

Aegon sways her gently, “I am so terribly sorry.”

“You are the only person I wanted and I could not h-have you.”

“We will deliver the next just the two of us, if it pleases you.” Aegon promises.

“Your mother will never allow that.”

“She will not know.” Aegon kisses her cheek.

Y/N pulls back just enough to see him. “If you’re certain.”

“I am. Calm yourself now, my only love. This is a day of happiness.” Aegon dries her tears, “I should like to soak up every moment here, with the three of you.”

Y/N nods, “I would like that very much.”

At the prince’s request, Visera and Dahlia are returned to them.

Aegon takes his second born, tracing the soft lines of her little face, committing them to memory. “Papa loves you.”

Y/N grins at the sight, her own finger clutched in her eldest daughter’s fist.

It comes as a shock to only Alicent when Dahlia Targaryen is named their heir; with her claim upheld by Viserys himself. Aegon does not need a son, his daughters are his legacy.

They attend small council meetings as they grow, with Dahlia seated on her grandsire’s lap.

“Mama,” Visera pounds at the table, drawing attention from the other seats.

“What is it, my darling girl?” Y/N hushes her, hoping to hear their current positions on livestock.

The little girl reaches for the ball again. “Please?”

“What is it she wants?” Aegon asks, from beside his wife, pecking kisses to his daughter’s outstretched hand.

“The ball.” Y/N whispers.

“Ahh,” Aegon smiles, taking his ball in hand and turning it over to Visera. “There we are.”

“You’ll spoil her rotten.”

“Just like her mother, hmm?” Aegon jests, “that is the goal.”

Y/N bites back a grin, passing a hand over her daughter’s light hair.

Their daughters celebrate their third name day before the princess is expecting again.

“There seems to be only one of you in there, I fear.” Aegon whispers to the child in Y/N’s belly, pressing kisses to her skin.

“You fear?” His wife smiles.

“You see, three is an odd number, this child will need a companion.” The prince reasons.

Y/N doesn’t argue, listening to Aegon speak with their unborn babe until she falls asleep.

————————————————————————

Y/N’s term is nearly complete when Aegon finds his wife, holding their wailing daughters in her arms. One on each side of her belly.

“What’s happened?” Aegon asks.

Y/N looks to him, “the girls were playing and Visera closed the door on Dahlia’s finger by mistake. Now they are both inconsolable.”

Aegon reaches for his eldest daughter, “let Papa see, which finger is hurt.”

“My little finger,” Dahlia cries, presenting the red, angry digit.

“That does look terrible painful, my dearest love.” Aegon says, after carefully examination.

“I must have the maester.”

“Now, now, sweetheart.” Aegon presses feather light kisses to her hand. “We need a cold compress is all.”

The maids rush out to fulfill his request.

Dahlia rests her head against her father’s shoulder as she waits, sniffling while he rubs circles into her back.

“See there, darling girl? Your sister is alright.” Y/N gentles Visera, who is feeling incredibly guilty.

“I did not mean to.”

“Of course not, my love.” Aegon says, “twas only an accident.”

The rest of their day is spent playing dolls and Aegon giving pony rides. Which, while ridiculous, does serve as a form of entertainment for Y/N who sits aside to watch.

She may give birth any day now and she feels every bit uncomfortable, still she welcomes Dahlia into her lap as she waits for her turn on Aegon, the noble steed.

“Trot,” Visera orders, with a smile across her face.

“Trot?” Aegon laughs, “shall I do tricks for you as well, your grace?”

Y/N shakes her head, locking eyes with her husband; she mouths a single word, “spoiled.” She kneads the ache in her lower back with her free hand. Ignoring it through supper and long after Dahlia and Visera are asleep.

Aegon notices the way she keeps clutching at it. “Perhaps a warm bath might help.”

“That would be nice,” she croaks out.

“Might it be your labors, darling girl?”

“It is all in my back,” she does not recall hardly any pain in her back, whilst laboring with the twins. “I must have pulled it.”

“The girls are getting bigger, perhaps it’s best if you do not lift them, in this condition.” Aegon kisses her cheek, dashing off to find a maid.

Y/N inhales, closing her eyes to the dull throbbing ache. Even the tub does not help, she climbs back into bed, hoping to sleep it off, but the pain only intensifies.

“This must be more than a muscle.” Aegon whispers, lying behind her. Continuing to knead her hips at her request.

“It is my labors.” My chokes out.

“You’re certain?”

Y/N nods, “my waters just broke.”

Aegon presses a kiss to her shoulder. “Is there anything I might do for you?”

She shakes her head. “Walking will help the babe come down, I must stand.”

Aegon springs from the bed, helping her upright.

“Fuck.” She hisses, beginning to pace their rooms.

Aegon follows, unsure what else to do.

She reaches out for him after a while, when the pain is so great all she wants is an ounce of comfort.

“I’m here.” Aegon murmurs, wrapping her in his arms as she sways gently from side to side.

Y/N clings to her husband, breathing him in. Focusing her attention on the sweetness of his words, to distract herself from her labors. “I’ll need to push soon.”

“Of course,” Aegon’s done his best to prepare himself. Studying whatever books he could manage, without drawing attention from prying eyes. Highborn ladies do not have children delivered by their husbands.

Queen Alicent will be livid when she finds out, but it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Y/N climbs atop the bed, remaining modestly covered.

“There’s no reason to be nervous, my darling. I’ve seen your cunt a hundred times.” Aegon flips her nightgown up, positioning her legs apart, bent at the knee. “There we are.”

“This is different, surely.” Y/N bares down as her belly contracts.

“Yes and no,” he pats her thigh.

She keeps a firm grip on his hand, crying out despite her best efforts.

“Alright, that’s alright.” Aegon scrambles for something to muffle it. “Might this work?” His belt.

“Yes.” Y/N takes it from him, stuffing the leather strap into her mouth. She is not entirely silent, little whimpers escape, though not enough to alert the guards.

Aegon is patient, kind, whispering words of encouragement. He never rushes her, brushing his hands across her skin. “There you go, my dearest love.” He can see the child’s head now.

Her eyes water, gritting her teeth so tightly they ache.

“Breathe.”

Y/N draws in a breath through her nose, releasing it in a strangled manner, akin to a dying animal.

“Good girl,” Aegon is prepared to catch the infant.

The princess’s head falls back as the child emerges, connected to her by only the afterbirth.

“Slippery little fellow, aren’t you?” Aegon coos, holding his son in his arms.

The infant begins to wail.

“A boy?” Y/N pants, tossing the belt away to catch her breath.

“Yes, my darling girl.” Aegon grins, “how are you?”

There is still pain, there will always be pain, but it is largely outweighed by the image of Aegon holding their son. She bursts into tears, “I am well.”

“Oh dear,” he frowns, carefully maneuvering his newborn son. He lies the infant against her chest, leaning down to comfort her as best he can. “Was it not what you wanted?”

“It was better, my love.” Y/N assures him, counting their babe’s tiny fingers. “I am overjoyed.”

“Overjoyed,” Aegon huffs, clunking his forehead against hers. “Of course that is why you’re crying.”

The maesters come after a while, to be sure that Y/N and the babe are well. After receiving the all clear, they are finally able to rest. Waking early in the morn to present the newest member of their family.

Y/N is tired and sore, even now, lying abed doesn’t suit her. She sits upon a cushion, in a loose fitting gown, tracing the slope of her new babe’s nose. “Are you nearly ready, my love?”

“Nearly,” Aegon remarks. While fastening his breeches he discovers the shapes notched into his belt. He lets out a laugh.

“What is it?” Y/N smiles.

“Look,” he rounds the stool, jutting out his hips.

“Your cock?” The princess arches a brow. “I have seen it.”

“Here, darling girl.” He grins, tracing the outline of her indentations. “From your teeth.”

Her cheeks heat up, “you must take it off.”

“Take it off?” Aegon frowns, “this is a badge of honor. I will wear it day in and day out.”

“You are insufferable,” Y/N sighs.

Aegon pecks a kiss to her parted lips, silencing any protest and setting off to gather the rest of their children.

Y/N dearly misses her mother and brothers in Dragonstone.

————————————————————————

In the months after Laenor’s birth Y/N begins searching for a teacher willing to help her learn a skill most princesses never acquire. Leading her to seekout a man she never has before.

“I want to train by the sword.”

Aemond pauses his sparring practice. “Surely I misunderstand you, dear niece.”

“You are the best, I require a tutor.” Y/N puts it plainly.

“I must be, if you are asking me, of all people.”

“I will admit, you were not my first choice. But Aegon refuses to so much as raise a sword against me and my brothers never cared for knocking me down; where as you will have no qualms about it.”

Aemond smirks, “this is true.”

“I also thought it might be a way for you and I to come together…as family.”

Aemond squares his shoulders, “very well then. Take up your sword.”

The two of them have something in common at long last, until Princess Y/N falls pregnant again, some months later.

Viserys’ condition continues to deteriorate, it is unclear if he will survive to see Y/N and Aegon’s fourth child. As luck would have it, he is lucid when the Prince and Princess present their second son, Prince Aegon, fourth of his name.

“Well done, my girl.” The king manages.

Y/N smiles, “Aegon helped.”

“I should expect so,” Viserys laughs.

“I meant only that he too deserves a job well done.”

Viserys looks to her, as if seeing her for the first time. Then turning to his son he whispers, “well done, my boy.”

Aegon is taken aback, “thank you, father.”

————————————————————————

News of Lord Corlys Velaryon’s injury in the Step Stones brings forth Vaemond Velaryon’s petition to be named his brother’s successor over Lucerys.

This business, however unpleasant, brings Rhaenyra and her children back to King’s Landing.

“We were planning to visit in a few months time, after the babe was born.” Rhaenyra tells her daughter. “But it is always a joy to see you, darling girl.”

Y/N hugs her mother, tightly, “I’ve missed you.”

Rhaenyra strokes a hand over her daughter’s hair. “I have missed you terribly.”

King Viserys musters his last bit of strength to affirm his position for Lucerys and make known that his daughter, Rhaenyra, will always be the true heir to the throne.

They break bread, the blacks and greens together, once the petition is settled. Getting along for a time, until the king is taken back to his chambers to rest. A fight breaks out between Jace, Luce and Aemond, causing Rhaenyra’s untimely departure. She intends to return alone, on dragon back, after the children are settled at home.

Y/N finds sleep that night with a renewed sense of peace, waking to anything but.

Aegon is in an odd state of dress, as if he’s thrown clothes on in the dark. Pacing at the foot of their bed; muttering to himself.

“Aegon?” The princess rubs at her eyes, hoping to make sense of it.

“My father is dead.”

Y/N sucks in a breath.

“My mother and grandsire are gathering the smallfolk for my coronation, in the dragon pit.”

“Why? Alicent herself said that my mother would make a fine Queen only hours ago.”

“In the end it was my name Viserys spoke,” Aegon whispers. “To my mother, on his deathbed.”

Oh no, gods no. Viserys wouldn’t. “What exactly did he say?”

“It matters not, my dearest love. I intend to uphold your mother’s claim.”

“How?” By taking her throne?

“I know you do not trust my family, as well you shouldn’t. You know my heart, you know what I want. They are rushing into this because they know it is wrong. I have pleaded with them, to no avail.” Aegon says. “If it is a performance they demand, so that we might seize the crown to later unfuck this line of succession, it is a performance they will have.”

Y/N nods, pressing a hand to her chest, in a desperate attempt to settle her breathing.

“We’re going to wash you up and dress you in the finest gown the realm has ever seen. Then you are going to stand at my side as they bend the knee, to try it on for size. Think of it as preparation for the day you are crowned our true queen, after your mother has ruled for a great many years.”

Again she nods.

“Are you calm enough now or do you still need me?” Aegon asks, stroking his thumb over her cheek.

“I need you.”

Stand together.

————————————————————————

In nearly two days time the realm is divided, half of them devoted to Rhaenyra’s claim, the other half to Aegon’s. After Aegon is crowned, Otto Hightower continues to play his hand.

“What are we to do?” Y/N wonders.

“My mother sent Aemond to Storm’s End. Lord Baratheon was easily swayed by the promise of Daeron’s hand for one of his daughters.”

“That is good, is it not? An ally of ours is an ally of my mother’s, in time.”

“There is more,” Aegon admits, wringing his hands.

Y/N laces their fingers together instead, “speak it.”

“I wish so badly that I did not have to tell you.”

“Please, Aegon.” She insists.

“There was an incident.”

Y/N nods, urging him to continue.

“Between Aemond…and your brother Lucerys.”

“What?” Her eyes brim with tears, as though her heart already knows.

“Lucerys was there, delivering a message from your mother. Aemond followed him, on dragon back. I do not think Aemond meant to truly harm him.” Aegon watches the lone drop of moisture cascade over her cheek. “Lucerys is dead.”

The princess’s knees buckle and she falls, with pain in her chest is so great, her lungs cannot expand.

Aegon gentles her to the floor, into his lap as she sobs so violently it shakes the pair of them. There is nothing he can say, and so he holds her, until she has no tears left.

The next weeks drag on quite the same, they pretend for their children, but Y/N struggles.

She sits the small council meeting, listening to news of Rhaenyra’s blockade and its effect on the kingdom.

The doors push open, revealing Aemond.

Y/N nearly churns. Balling her hands so tightly into fists the nails break skin.

“The key to victory is through the Riverlands.” Aemond narrates, “we need to establish a toehold there, at Harrenhal.”

Y/N pushes away from the table, trembling with the force of her rage.

Aegon reaches for her, feeling his heart sink as she backs away, with both arms wrapped around herself. Trapped beneath the watchful eyes of the council. “My darling, I did not invite him here.”

“Tis true,” Aemond confirms, “I am here of my own volition.”

There is that, at least.

“Do you have something to say, my queen?”

Y/N’s back remains to Aemond, and the strategy board, “Prince Aemond is a traitor and a murderer, who deserves to swing in the streets for what he has done. Instead he attends meetings of the small council. It is clear I hold little value to any member of this court. I will not sit here and listen to this depravity.”

“Y/N.” Aegon rises from his seat, shifting between feet, anxiously.

“I am through, my king.”

Aegon recoils as if she’s slapped him.

“Unless you are commanding me to stay,” she replies, with venom in her voice.

“Of course not, my dearest love.”

Y/N exits the double doors, moving down the hall at record speed.

Aegon twirls the council ball between his fingers to settle his racing heart. This was once his father’s seat, where his children would sit, back when all was as it should be. Now his children are not welcome and his wife would sooner abandon ship than remain at his side. “Get out.” He says to his brother.

Aemond sighs.

“Get out!” Aegon slams his fist against the table, “from now on, you will make yourself scarce amongst these halls. If you happen across my wife, you will make haste in the opposite direction, she will not be forced to look upon your face again. Do you understand?”

Aemond bows his head, “as you wish, your grace.”

Y/N retreats to her children’s rooms, finding them empty. They must be in with Helaena’s twins again. She finds the six of them in Jaehaera’s room, playing together while Helaena sews her tapestry.

“How is it coming along?” Y/N asks, taking a seat beside her.

“Quite well.”

“Glad to hear it.” Y/N taps at her wedding ring, “do you find it relaxing? Mayhaps I should take up sewing.”

“I’m afraid.” Helaena says, setting her work aside.

“Of what?” Y/N cocks her head to the side.

“The rats.”

Y/N nods, hoping to understand. “What is it about them that frightens you?”

Helaena falls silent, a far off look in her eyes.

“I could look into them.” Y/N offers, instead. “The rats.”

Helaena blinks at her. “Would you?”

“Yes, of course. Perhaps with proper knowledge of their ways you need not fear them.”

Helaena smiles, “that would be nice.”

“I will head down to the library then, once the children are abed.”

After their baths, princess Y/N brushes through each of her children’s hair in turn. Her two year old son sits in her lap first. Laenor’s hair has wave to it, like Aegon’s. She twists a bit of it around her finger.

“Mama,” the little boy begins bouncing, impatiently.

“Yes, sweet boy?”

“All done,” he tells her.

Y/N huffs a laugh, squeezing him in a hug before releasing him, “off you go then.”

Laenor giggles, bounding away happily.

“Alright, my darling girls, who is next?”

Dahlia looks to Visera, who stares back at her, exclaiming in unison, “I am!” The pair comes charging at her, landing in the small space, side by side.

“My goodness, you have gotten so big.” Y/N groans as she repositions them. Taking turns swiping the bristles through their long, silver, hair before weaving in simple braids, one down each of their backs.

“Where is father?” Dahlia wonders.

Y/N swallows, “performing his duties.”

“What about us?” Visera asks.

“Your father loves you dearly,” Y/N kisses each of their heads. “He wants nothing more than to be with you. Sometimes there are things we must do, for the sake of the crown that require us to be parted from those we love, for a short while.”

The girls nod.

“One day, when you are grown, you will understand. In the meantime, please know that his heart is with you, always. He will never be far.”

Visera and Dahlia turn, holding their mother tight.

“I will see you on the morrow.” Y/N pats their backs, watching them take to their beds.

Her youngest child is brought to her last, wrapped in a silk blanket and wailing at the top of his lungs.

Y/N stands to collect him. “Now, now, my prince, what business do you have causing all that fuss?” Y/N coos at the babe in her arms.

Aegon the fourth quiets instantly, staring up at his mother while kicking his little legs.

“That’s what I thought.” Y/N remarks, sitting down in the arm chair to rock him to sleep. “You are so loved, my darling.” She strokes his dark hair and his tired eyes begin to close, “sweet dreams.”

With the prince safely abed, Y/N leaves the children in the care of their guards and maids, to see what books they might have about rats in the library. The selection is limited, of course, so she decides on a bound copy recounting the great plague. Its pages contain great detail about the little critters and their lives.

She finds herself more engrossed in it than she could have anticipated. The princess hardly hears her husband enter their rooms.

“What story is that now, my dearest love?” He asks, shucking off his boots.

“It’s a book about the plague.”

Part 5

Taglist: @minttea07 @callsignwidow @fallout-girl219 @syraxnyra @vickynephilim @jeondeluxe111 @geeksareunique @arya-brooke @7minutes-tomidnight @ninastyless @aleemendoza2425-blog @livingdead-reilly @whenmypartysover @darlingisntit @nayaniasworld @uniquecroissant @spacexdrago @kaysav608 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @wolflover384 @jaydemon99 @minttea07 @lightdragonrayne @baybaybear1

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

These Tender Hearts Beat as One

Aemond x widowed!female character

Summary: Aemond reunites with his childhood friend, a former ward of his mother || Word Count: 7k || Warnings: too much fucking backstory lol, p in v sex, breeding kink

Aemond could always tell when his mother was stressed. Out of all her silver-haired children, her second son had seemed the most adept at knowing before she even knew herself. All that remained was for him to discover the root of her worries, and calm her ever-heightening nerves if he could.

When Aemond was stressed, angered or oftentimes merely bored, nothing truly compared to the feeling of riding Vhagar, splitting through the air above King’s Landing to stretch her large, tattered wings. His beloved dragon appreciated the exercise in any case, restless from her days fought in wars, it was some consolation for him that flying was just as therapeutic for her as it was for him.

But when his dear mother was stressed, it was rooted in self-destruction, picking ceaselessly at her fingernails ‘til they were bloody and sore. And though he bit his tongue, not wishing to replicate the behaviour of his grandfather, sometimes it felt near impossible not to say anything, not to ask what was on her mind. So that whatever was swirling around her head with panic, could instead be shared out, and therefore less weight for her to carry.

Had Aegon done something perhaps?

Was there more trouble with Rhaenyra?

Or perhaps his father had said something to upset her, which seemed the most likely. Even in his sickly state, he was still capable of unknowing cruelty.

Even at five and ten, Aemond understood this.

His mother remained quiet, and it was not ‘til he sought out the company of his dear friend, that the truth became clear.

She had been his mother’s ward for little more than three years, and already Aemond had witnessed her enter the Keep as a clumsy, loud child and blossom into what many would consider a young woman already grown, though she was little older than Helaena. 

Her age in comparison to him had never once strained their friendship. In fact, at first, when Aemond was still freshly scarred emotionally by the trauma of losing his eye, he had remembered clapping his lone eye on her and scowling, thinking of her little more than a quarrelsome child. 

And, as Aegon had put it, ‘aggressively annoying’.

Which, at the time, was true enough. And yet it did not deter her from trying, Aemond would allow her the compliment of that.

She was much like him, a child created and born as a sort of secondary plan in case the first did not come to pass. A mere second daughter, and not only that, but bumped even further down the chain by her three older brothers, the eldest already wed with several children of his own. It was made abundantly clear by her own parents that she was merely another nuisance and therefore when placed into the care of the Targaryen royal family, the look of relief on their faces somewhat angered him, coupled by the manner in which they left with a goodbye that rivalled his own father’s attitude towards his children.

His empathy for her situation had drawn him to her, despite his stubbornness in wanting to pretend he did not crave friendship, especially from a girl. And her own stubbornness surprised him when he discovered she did not blindly seek the acceptance of any similar-aged child, she set her sights on Aemond alone and did not relent until eventually, he came to her instead.

He found a camaraderie with her that he had yet to find with his other siblings, feeling very much like friendship with her was more natural and spontaneous, where the ones with his family were calculated, planned and rooted in a cold necessity to keep up appearances. 

Not that she cared much for appearances. 

Her Septa berated her for what seemed like every other day for turning up to her needlepoint lessons with dirtied skirts and stray petals in her tangled hair, all from chasing one another through the bushes of the Keep to find some entertainment. Yet, even in the face of punishment, her smile never faltered, and insisted that it was all a bit of fun.

She somehow managed to inject her bright personality into his otherwise darkened life.

Because of her, there was beauty in everything. There was serenity in sitting in the Godswood and watching the petals settle in the breeze that ran past his neck and made him shiver. There was a startling allure when he introduced her to Vhagar for the first time and her hand ran across her darkened scales, seeing her expression lift in sheer wonder, experiencing her bewilderment as if it were the first time. And there was virtue in the innocence of their relationship, and how his heart began to swell with a childlike sense of belonging in her.

The unconditional power of her friendship he was sure was all he ever needed. In the way she always uttered, dragged away for her lessons in etiquette, but beaming at him.

‘My friendship is always yours,’ she would say, like a mantra.

‘Just as mine shall always be.’

He thought for a long while that he was the most hideous person in this world, not least since Aegon had dragged him to the brothels only a few years before. And yet when he shared a chaste kiss with her under the Weirwood tree. Clumsy and impractical and yet all magical all at once, he thought that when he was older, stronger, he would ask her to be his wife.

Aemond could feel the anxiety seeping off her as soon as he stepped into her chambers. Like she had a lot on her mind but not the courage to open her mouth and say it.

“What is it?”

His heart lurched into his chest when she lifted her head, swallowing her feelings and taking a deep, shaky breath.

“My sister has succumbed to a fever. She is dead.”

Aemond sighed, as if absorbing her grief. But when he took one step forward to comfort his friend, she shook her head, “there is more.”

Her tone of voice alone was enough to set every nerve on edge. Aemond stood as if stuck to the flagstone floor, and realised that the once clumsy, small girl he had once known was acting very much like a young woman now. Worlds apart, despite being stood before her.

“I am to honour the planned betrothal with Lord Lefford, under my father’s orders.”

It was the only moment Aemond remembered wanting to vomit with nausea, he had not felt such churning in his gut even on the day he lost his eye.

She sat, looking at him as if to gauge his reaction to the news, knowing perhaps in her own heart the feelings that were shared between them. And Aemond felt his churning nausea turn to anger, at how easily she had allowed her will to be broken by a command from her father, which in his opinion, she need not obey. She was, after all, a near half a decade younger than her sister, and the man in question older than her own father.

How could she have given up like this so easily.

“You will go through with this?”

He did not mean for his tone of voice to appear accusatory, but when he saw that wide-eyed helpless expression, he knew immediately it had.

“I can hardly argue with my father, Aemond.”

He felt his fists clench hard in his hand, fingernails creating crescent shaped indents in his flesh that reddened, his reply is stiff, “you simply act as if you have no choice in the matter.”

“Not all of us get one.”

“You cannot leave.”

“I must,” she insists, her voice breaking somewhat at the look of disappointment and betrayal on his face, “please do not make this more difficult than it already is, Aemond.”

“I am not the one making this difficult,” he replies flatly, his head throbbing with an incoming migraine, “If you are as much my friend as I am yours, you will not leave me.”

She could feel herself stepping towards him, drawn by some invisible force for comfort that he was not yet providing. She knew he could be capable of being cruel, but to be on the receiving end after all they had gone through was heart-breaking.

And though she was a year his senior, standing so small before him, she felt so much a child.

“Aemond, please-” she begged, reaching out for him and wincing when he pulled away, his brows drawn together in disgust.

“Marry him and I shall never speak to you again.”

Her hand dropped to her side as if limp, as if all life had drained from her body as well as the colour from her face. Her lip quivered, “you can't mean that.”

He looked in her eyes, the raw grief of watching her slip away filling him with an unmistakable bitterness, though for what? Her? Himself? Their friendship? He could not put it into words.

“I mean every word.”

That is the last memory he has of her, looking every bit as broken as he'd intended her to feel. In the days that followed, as her family arrived once more to steal her away, Aemond felt the gnawing grip of regret when he chose not to see her off at the courtyard, watching from his window as she scanned the space around for her good friend's presence and didn't find it.

It was then Aemond began to hate himself for every bit of cruelty enacted against her from him. Her carriage disappeared into the distance until it was nothing, leaving a pit of pain in his heart.

Not a day passed that Aemond did not at least think of her and wait for any correspondence to arrive, with his name etched into the paper in her curved, feminine handwriting.

But as he'd feared, she had taken his words to heart, and no letter ever arrived, and eventually, it felt no use counting the days and moons since he'd last seen her.

The guilt would eat away at him for years, the memory of her pained expression etched into his vision. Even as he grew into a man, it would never fully fade, though he was quick to tell himself that he shouldn’t care, that she was no longer the same girl he had loved so much, not since she chose her own fate.

In an attempt to fill the hole she'd left behind, he busied himself with the sword, intent with some level of obsession at becoming the most skilled swordsman in Westeros. 

Aemond would train for hours at a time, the dull ache deep within him pushed away by the strain of sparring drills and intense workouts with the sword. Though even in the midst of training, his thoughts would always be in the back of his mind, taunting him with the guilt that he felt, the shame of how he had treated her at the end.

By itself, it was not enough, but even burying his nose in books did not blur that heavy ache. But it did not mean he could not at least try.

Which is why he sighed in annoyance as he sat by the fireplace in his chambers, a large tome opened in his lap and two knocks rapped at the door.

“Enter.”

He did not tear his attention away as the maidservant entered with a short and quick curtsy, hands clasped, “Your grace, Queen Alicent has requested your presence.”

That alone was enough to draw his attention away from his reading. His mother did not request him for a small matter.

He had wondered if perhaps Aegon had managed to slip out of the Keep again, for yet another one of his excursions into Flea Bottom, and send him to retrieve his brother.

Perhaps his mother finally thought enough time had passed and he was much of a man to suggest a marriage proposal. For some reason, the thought made him ill.

“Thank you, Ser Criston,” he heard his mother say in a muffled tone once he was announced.

Aemond raised his gaze to his mother, relieved to see her calm, and dare he say, happy.

“Aemond,” she greeted softly, her smile gentle and her touch on his arms comforting, “do not look so forlorn.”

“You wished to see me.”

“I did,” Alicent beamed, clasping her hands at her front, “Come.”

He could not help but give a puzzled expression as he walked beside his mother through the winding halls of the Keep, wondering perhaps why her behaviour was so different than usual. A sort of anxiety fed through her, but not the self-destructive kind. 

“We are to receive some guests today. I would like you to greet them.”

Aemond quirked a brow, confused and somewhat annoyed in equal measure, “I am not accustomed to greeting-”

“They have travelled a long way, so remember to be courteous,” Alicent added, flashing one of her tight-lipped smiles, which only served to confuse Aemond further. His mother led him to the top of the staircase of the empty, echoing foyer and instructed quickly, “do be a gracious host, Aemond.”

He did not have a mere moment to question her, before he was watching the back of his mother disappear down the very same hallway they had just walked together. All he managed was a baffled shake of his head, as if by some miracle this was all some mad dream he had conjured. He questioned why on earth his mother would allow him to greet these esteemed guests alone, out of all her antisocial children.

But ever dutiful, he descended the stairs, hearing the low voice of Ser Westerling greeting whomever was arriving in a warm, formal tone, with their silhouettes casting blurred shadows onto the flagstone floor. Aemond’s feet were planted firmly on the step without even realising it.

This esteemed guest was no stranger to him.

Though the years had matured her gracefully, Aemond is sure he would recognise her anywhere, as she looked every bit the same as that day he regretted seeing her carriage leave King’s Landing. She stood tall, her cape fastened at her front with her house crest nestled in the middle, her dark skirts framing her womanly figure as her eyes trailed the details of the Keep that had changed since she had last been there.

Aemond stared wordlessly, the emotions so long buried resurfacing as if they had never left. His breath felt hot, his mind struggling to accept what his lone eye beheld before him. That she was here after so many years separated, in the very flesh, and yet he was unable to utter a single word.

She wandered about the space, commenting to the young woman beside her, who carried a child no older than three in her arms, how it had all looked so much larger in her youth. So he took this moment where she had not yet noticed him to look upon her with wonder, frozen entirely in place with the unexpectedness of her return. His mind raced with the thoughts of what this meeting could mean, for him, for her, and for their future; and he could not deny the strong tug of guilt in his chest for how he had treated her all those years ago, and how her renewed presence only made them more real.

Clearing his throat as he approached, the lady beside her noticed him first, “Prince Aemond,” she greeted with a curtsy, prompting her also to lay her eyes on him once more.

“Your grace,” she smiled warmly with a quick curtsy, with such a formality that made his heart ache.

He craned his head to bow lightly at her, “My Lady,” he replied with some stiffness, before gazing once more into her friendly, soft eyes and allowing his shoulders to relax, “I wondered perhaps if you would recognise me.”

Her laugh made his stomach flip, “I do not think I could ever forget you. Though I must confess, I wondered the same for myself.”

Her smile could not be described as anything less than perfect and a feeling that he harboured for her so long ago began to creep back in before he could stop it, “my Lady, I must apologise right away.”

But she shook her head, looking down at her hands, “it was a long time ago.”

He did not wish to upset her further by mentioning such an incident that had harmed his pride since, but knew that her memories of it were just as vivid as his own, “And I have not forgotten. You did what was expected for a lady in your position, and yet I was too selfish to understand that at the time. Please forgive me.”

He could not take the desperation out his tone, no matter how hard he tried. And still, she smiled sadly at his words.

“You must know that I did not wish to leave you.”

“I do,” he replied quickly, the memories of his guilt burning a hole in his throat, trying to hide the bitterness he felt towards himself, “I must confess - I have missed you greatly.”

Her hands clasped at her front, she blinked slowly and swallowed thickly, “I have missed you too.”

The silence stretched between them. Years of separation and longing had left them both yearning, but lacking the courage of knowing what to say. Aemond cleared his throat, his hands behind his back with anxiety, seeing that her ‘favoured’ husband was still not yet present.

“Are we to receive your husband as well?” he asked with some stiffness, or perhaps bitterness.

She cocked her head ever so slightly, eyebrows pulled together in confusion, until a small smile of realisation graced her features, “I regret to inform you I am recently widowed.”

In any other situation, Aemond would have been mortified at her reply. But with her smile came a rush of realisation himself, and hope swelled in his heart, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot, hoping to all the gods that she could not see the way his thought ran wild in his head, and made his breeches tighten, “Widowed-” 

“Indeed. I am sorry to disappoint you, my Prince. In truth, I have just come out of mourning,” she nodded, biting back another coy smile, showing in her mannerisms that it was no great loss to her.

“I am sorry for your loss, my Lady.”

She shook her head softly, “my husband left a suitable will, so that my child and I live comfortably and so there is no need for me to pursue future marriages should I not wish to.”

Her careful wording was not lost on him, and Aemond could not help the sense of glee at this new and recent change in her life, the bitter anger at having lost her to some decrepit old man years previous seemingly dissipating. And yet despite this, he attempted to keep it hidden, not wishing to seem disrespectful to her late husband.

“Might I present you my daughter,” she added, taking the child from the woman beside her into her own and resting the shy young girl on her hip. The child’s wide-eyed innocent expression unapologetically took all of Aemond in, as children often do, and he was reminded very much of his dear friend when she was small.

She was the image of her mother, save for the slightly lighter hair, with every feature of her etched into her daughter’s youthful face. And the reality of such similarities made him feel both joy and sorrow all at once.

“She is beautiful.” His voice was quiet, seeing the child in her arms was shy and reserved, unlike her mother, but thankful somewhat that her little one was not in the slightest alike to the man she had been forced to marry. Looking into the eyes of her child felt much like staring at the girl he once knew, and with that, a rush of affection.

Aemond thought, that in different circumstances, this child could have been theirs, a shared expression of their affections for one another. That all those years ago, had her father not coerced her into honouring her late sister’s betrothal, that she and Aemond would have their own children by now.

Before he could think too long, the small girl whined in her arms and she put her down immediately, the little patter of childish feet nearly had Aemond break into a grin, watching her run off with the nursemaid chasing behind.

“I am afraid she is a curious little thing. Like mother like daughter I suppose”, she smiled brightly.

Aemond nodded, the rush of memories bringing a wistful smile to his face, “Like mother like daughter,” was all he managed to reply, watching the mischievousness unfold. Yet, once the child and the nursemaid had left them alone, she chuckled softly, feeling his heartbeat slow in pace with hers.

“May I confess something to you, without fear of judgement?” Aemond asked, his heart thudding as she nodded in return, “You may think me foolish, but I must confess that my mind still lingers on the memories of our time together, and I have found no way to erase the feelings they carry with them - your return to King’s Landing has only reinforced them,” he confessed, looking into her warm gaze, “for now, when I look at you, I cannot help but feel just as I did then.”

He watched her swallow thickly, and take a deep, meaningful breath, like what she was going to say would be heavy, “and, what feelings are those, might I ask?”

His heart felt as it was beating so fast it was cracking his ribs, throat closing with anxiety. The feelings he had tried so hard to hide with a mask of bitterness now overflowing with terrifying intensity. Yet, to say such feelings out loud to her, someone he had trusted so much in his youth, made it feel all the more real. And as he stared into her eyes, he wanted nothing more than for her to share them, despite their years of absence from one another.

“That I love you - and have from the moment I met you.”

The words came out quickly, and as soon as he uttered them he felt his cheeks grow hot, knowing her response was either one way or the other and that he, a man so long disconnected from his own feelings, hiding them with his pride for so many years, was now opening up his vulnerability. 

He wanted her to love him. So desperately.

She sighed quietly in relief, “I have loved you as well. And I was saddened to have left you - and will forever be vehemently sorry for that.”

Though his relief was palpable, but he shook his head first, “You were right then, and always have been, that you had no choice or opinion in the matter. Therefore, I will accept no apologies.”

Her eyes glistened with emotion at his words, and when Aemond stepped forward and took her cheek in his palm, her breath hitched in such a way he was sure they would spill forth in tears. But the strong person she had always been, she held them back.

“I feared - you would not desire me,” she confessed quietly. 

Aemond smirked, “It may take more than a few years of separation to extinguish what was once there. I have loved you since that day beneath the Weirwood Tree, and I will love you until this life ends and the next one begins.”

She gave a watery smile at his sweet words, “though I have been wed once already with a child?”

He was silent for a moment as he considered her question, and not a bit of him even wondered whether it were possible, “my love is no fickle thing,” he smiled, “in time I hope I may become as close as a father to her as I may become a husband to you.”

He watched as her unshed tears formed a constellation on her eyelashes, but a relieved smile graced her delicate features. Aemond could not remember the last time he had been this close to her, able to detect the delicate scents brushed through her hair and the way her cheeks warmed at the close proximity between them, and undeniable tension.

The thought of kissing her, having her to himself, made something arousing tighten in his breeches, to his embarrassment.

He drew in a breath, leaning forward to capture her lips, but both drew back a pace suddenly.

“My Lady! Would you care to join us for supper this evening,” Alicent smiled brightly, as if knowing some great secret seeing them both stood straight and blushing. And she had to take a moment to think and stammer out her reply,

“Oh - yes, I would be delighted-”

“Wonderful! I shall see you to your chambers,” the Queen beamed, giving Aemond a sideways glance as the two women he most respected in life walked alongside one another.

He felt as if the entire evening was a true test of his will and determination. Aemond is certain Alicent meant no ill will by inviting the woman he unequivocally loved to supper with his family; but as he sat beside her, remembering how close he had been just a few hours before, it was almost as if everyone around him was aware and simply dangling the situation in front of his face.

And he cursed any god that existed that Aegon was not drowned in his cups that night, as he usually was. On this night, he was frustratingly lucid and hyper-aware.

Helaena, at first, was impartial to the sudden get-together, but as soon as she and Helaena saw one another, it was as if no time at all had passed. They were, of course, the same age when she had been his mother's ward, and as well as with Aemond, had formed a close friendship.

The princess was of course eager to catch up, and even invited her up to dance, to which she happily obliged as Aemond watched from his spot at the table. It was nice to see Helaena happy for a change.

A sorrowful thought had occurred to Aemond that both his friend and Helaena were pressured into marriages and motherhood far too young. And seeing them very much acting like young girls with one another, only exacerbated this feeling.

They talked quickly with excitement, planning to have their children meet up with one another and play in the gardens. And while they were engrossed in conversation, Aegon slid next to his brother, with a knowing smirk on his face.

“She is just as animated as I remember,” the young prince smirked, raising his eyebrows at Aemond over the rim of his cup.

“I will hear none of your depravity about her.”

Aegon threw him a faux-offended expression, “I had not even got there yet. Do you have such a low opinion of me?”

Aemond ignored him and sipped his own Dornish Red.

“You wish to marry her.”

“And you are perceptive.”

“Gods, I love it when you compliment me.”

“And insufferable.”

“What makes you think grandfather will allow you to marry her anyway? He's a dry old cunt, he will not care if you love her or not. He would have you wed to some plain-faced twat from who-knows-where.”

For one infuriatingly brief moment, Aemond had to concede that Aegon was probably right. And with one restless finger tapping against the table, he glanced over at his mother and grandfather suspiciously squished together on one end of the table, leaning towards each other and whispering in low voices, with Otto Hightower looking at his beloved friend from beneath his brow.

They were talking about her. Discussing her. And by the expression on his grandfather, analysing her.

Aemond felt his heart beat faster at the prospect that they were speaking so secretively about her without her knowledge. It seemed a stark contrast to the way the two women on the other side of the table were laughing and smiling brightly, something so rarely seen on Helaena’s face nowadays.

“She is no maiden, that is for certain. Though if you are lucky, perhaps only the first three inches of her have been tainted by Lefford’s withered old cock.”

Aemond wrinkled his nose at Aegon’s depraved quip, despite his somewhat polite request for him not too. Perhaps he’d expected too much courtesy from his elder brother. Or perhaps, more likely, with the exciting renewed presence of Lord Lefford’s widow, Aegon felt the need to perform, and exaggerate his usual unfortunate traits of his personality.

“‘Tis almost as worse as our dear sister being wed to me.”

“I am certain there is nothing worse than that,” Aemond replied quickly, behind the rim of his cup, failing to keep his gaze from forever drifting to the figure of her from across the candles and ornaments.

Aemond found himself captivated by the way she moved, the subtle grace in her gestures that spoke volumes of the woman she had become. Gone was the innocence of youth, replaced by a quiet strength and resilience that only seemed to enhance her beauty. He couldn't help but notice the way her laughter rang out like music, filling the room with warmth and light. It was a sound he had missed more than he cared to admit, a reminder of simpler times when they were just children with the world at their feet.

But now, as he watched her twirl across the dance floor with Helaena, there was something undeniably magnetic about her presence. It was as if she had blossomed into a flower, her petals unfurling to reveal a depth and complexity that left him breathless.

He attempted not to move too quickly once the festivities were over, afraid of showing her in his actions his desperation to be close to her as he offered his arm, “might I see you to your chambers, my Lady?”

She gave a shy smile that morphed into one of amusement, and Aemond is sure he felt something akin to that stomach-flipping sensation when he was flying out on Vhagar when her hand rested on the inside of his forearm, “Very well.”

Aemond chose to ignore the low snicker of his elder brother, showing him his back instead, with the woman he loved on his arm.

“You are aware I know this Keep better than I do my own home, and am perfectly capable of finding my chambers myself?” she said with a teasing lilt.

Aemond couldn't help but chuckle softly, the sound echoing in the empty corridor. "Forgive me, my Lady. It seems my chivalry gets the better of me in your presence."

Her laughter rang out, filling the silence with warmth. "Chivalry or a desire to prolong our conversation, Prince Aemond?"

He felt a surge of joy at the playful banter, grateful for the opportunity to spend even a few moments alone with her. "Perhaps a bit of both, my Lady. Though I must admit, the thought of your company is a temptation I find hard to resist."

She looked at her feet, as if to hide the rising warmth to her face, “I must confess, it is nice to once again be somewhere familiar, with the company I admire most. When my husband was alive it could often get rather lonely.”

Aemond fell quiet for a moment, swallowing thickly, trying to navigate his feelings in the midst of a difficult situation, “I hope that he was kind to you.”

She glanced up at him, her eyes revealing a depth of gratitude that stirred something within him. "He had his moments," she admitted with a small smile, "but kindness was not his strongest suit. Still, I suppose I cannot fault him entirely. He provided for me in his own way."

Aemond could sense the underlying weight in her words, the unspoken struggles she had endured beneath the facade of mere cordiality. He didn't need to ask to know that her late husband had been less than supportive.

"You deserve far more than just provision, my Lady," he said earnestly, his gaze unwavering as he spoke.

Aemond could almost feel his heart sink as he had realised they were stood before her chamber doors, her hand slipping from his arm, and yet a fire stoking fierce then at the thought of an invitation inside.

She clasped her hands delicately, her warm eyes meeting his with a gentle intensity. "I couldn't help but notice Queen Alicent and the Lord Hand engaged in such ceaseless conversation," she remarked, her voice soft and thoughtful. "I do not wish to presume—"

Aemond, catching the subtle implication in her words, swiftly interjected, "I cannot claim to know their exact sentiments." His gaze met hers, offering reassurance without a hint of desperation. "But I refuse to allow something as trivial as their approval to deter me. I've already endured the pain of losing you once."

There was a quiet determination in his voice, a resolve that mirrored the fire in her own eyes. In that moment, they shared an unspoken understanding, a mutual agreement to pursue their feelings despite the potential obstacles that lay ahead.

She nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Your courage is admirable, Prince Aemond. But we must proceed cautiously. The court is a web of intricate politics, and our actions could have far-reaching consequences."

Her words were crafted in such a way that reminded him of her personality in their youth, understanding of the repercussions and yet boldly standing tall in the face of them. And with her small, mischievous smile, he knew all the same that whatever she uttered was only done so to extend her cordiality.

"I understand," he replied, his tone tinged with determination. "But I cannot ignore what my heart tells me."

"Nor can I," she admitted softly, her gaze meeting his with a mixture of vulnerability and resolve.

Silence settled between them for a moment, the weight of their unspoken desires hanging in the air. Then, with a subtle shift in her demeanour, she turned towards her chamber door. Without a word, she reached out and gently pushed it open, leaving it ajar. A silent invitation hung in the air, enticing Aemond to step inside.

Aemond's heart skipped a beat as he watched her gesture, his pulse quickening with anticipation. Without hesitation, he took a step forward, drawn irresistibly towards the open door and the promise of privacy within.

With a shared glance filled with unspoken understanding, Aemond turned towards her chamber doors, crossing the threshold into the privacy of her chambers, where their hearts could speak freely without the constraints of the outside world.

She spoke quietly, her face illuminated warmly by the soft flicker of candlelight. "I hope you do not think less of me for this," she murmured, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "You can imagine, for me there is no great ceremony in it."

Aemond's heart swelled with tenderness at her words, his gaze filled with an understanding that transcended mere words. "I could never think less of you," he replied softly, his voice brimming with sincerity.

Aemond slowly closed the distance between them, their expressions never wavering, his steps deliberate yet gentle. He reached out, his hand cupping her face tenderly, as he gazed into her eyes with an intensity that spoke of his deep affection. In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them suspended in a timeless embrace. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across their intertwined figures, bearing witness to the union of two souls bound together by love and longing.

Her lips parted to whisper, “I do not wish for you to do all of this out of guilt-”

She caught herself when his thumb traced her cheek, waiting for him to answer, “I do not make this bid out of remorse. I wish to be with you, and I wish to make you mine.”

Aside from the crackling heat of the fire within the hearth, her breath was all that was audible between them, coming heavier from between her lips as his thumb feathered down her cheek and to her bottom lip, caressing the skin there. After that, he felt her eyelashes against his cheek flutter when he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers with a tenderness usually unbecoming of his personality.

Years of longing had each of them pressing closer to each other, lost in the sound of their soft kisses, and Aemond felt his clothing below his waist become tight with need once he caressed her tongue with his and pried her lips apart like the petal of a flower and tasting the sweet nectar within.

Her hands that had found his shoulders slid over the sleek leather to his front, tenderly and gingerly pulling the buckles apart to loosen his doublet. Her actions, instead of spurring embarrassment, renewed a deep-rooted vigour beneath, and Aemond’s new task was to pull at the laces of her dress behind her, and pull the fabric that had hidden her body from him.

He felt her shiver, pulling the heavy dress from her shoulder to pool at her waist, pushing them as fervently off her as he was able, “was he at least good to you,” Aemond asked in a whisper, his breath hot at her neck while she pulled at the laces of his breeches. 

“I do not wish to speak of him,” she answered with determination and confidence, but a breathless, wanton whisper herself, wanting nothing more than to consummate years of harboured affections masked by friendship, “I only want you.”

Her words had his heart stutter in his chest, pulling her now almost bare form atop him as he sat back onto the bed, with her hair loosened like this and her shoulders blossoming with gooseflesh, he found that he was incapable of keeping his hands at his sides and explored the shape of her feminine body beneath the shift she wore. 

Even the sheer motion of her brushing against his hardened member and her breasts filling his palms could have been enough for Aemond, but there was no returning at this point. She sighed against his lips as his fingers dipped beneath the hem of her shift to ruck the thin fabric up around her hips, squeezing the flesh of her thighs to pull her closer onto his lap.

Warmth bloomed at her cheeks, but it did not deter her as she reached between them and smiled at Aemond’s loud moan, stroking his rapidly hardening length in her palm, focussing her attention towards the velvety tip. 

She lifted herself in his lap, fingers threaded at the hair at his nape as if to anchor herself to him, and both sighed with the utmost relief of their union once he pressed himself into her, and she sank her warmth onto him, enveloping him with her body. Her lips parted at the stretch, somewhat prepared and yet the intrusion still stealing the air from her lungs.

Foreheads pressed together, Aemond's hands gripped her at her waist, pushing his hips up into her as hard as he could to sink deeper inside her, “I have dreamt of this - for so long - being with you like this -” 

A faint sheen glimmered on her collarbones as she slowly moved her hips on him, Aemond's legs parted somewhat, widening hers and opening her up more so he could rock up into her with her rhythm. The closeness of their position had the blunt head of his cock massage that sensitive patch within, her eyebrows knitted together in sweet pleasure.

“That's it -” he cooed quietly, almost watching the way she moved with admiration and curiosity, her tight, silky walls squeezing his length with every thrust of herself down. He felt her arousal coat the base of him, and the sound of their ever-quickening coupling filled the otherwise quiet chambers.

She held onto his shoulders, the amber glow of the fireplace picturing her expression in the most arousing way Aemond had ever imagined. Pulling her shift down her chest, he groaned lowly at the sight of her breasts and took one in his palm and mouthed at the other, taking her stiffened nipple between his lips in a way that made a shuddering moan slip past her lips.

“Gods - I would adore to watch you swell with my child - would you like that -”

All she could do was nod feebly, words unable to occupy her mouth where soft, sweet sounds of pleasure were pouring out. Aemond smirked, grazing his teeth over her bud.

“yes, you would like to serve your husband - give him children, wouldn't you - fuck-” his voice strained at the effort it took to hold himself back, his hands sliding down the column of her back to her plump backside, palms gripping tight and guiding her rhythm onto him, over and over.

She moaned loudly, the motion of being pulled back and forth and yet still impaling herself on him driving the fat head of his cock into the deepest and most forbidden parts of her.

“Aemond -”

“And once you have one - I'll fuck yet another one into you - keep you fat with child” his breathing grew ragged and shaky, “- take it - like a good little wife should-”

“Yes - yes-” she breathed quickly, the words slipping out without realising what they were for, her blind acceptance of being his wife, or the rising waves of pleasure coursing white, hot through her body.

He felt her squeezing him and hastened both of her rhythms, dragging her back into his lap and pushing up into her wet heat ceaselessly. Both the numbing ache of her peak and her bud rolling against his body in quick succession had her hands gripping around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck as her limbs flooded with warmth.

“That's it, ābrazyrys -”

“Gods, Aemond-” she squeaked, completely overcome and possessed by the heights of pleasure rolling through her, the endless rhythm of him fucking up into her only prolonging it.

Her tight walls squeezed him so deliciously that Aemond's heart leapt into his throat, completely surprised as he pulsed thickly and spilled within her, his lone eye tightly shut. His own fulfilment had his hips twitching, shallowly pushing his seed into her, and hoping that it took.

Even once he was completely spent and exhausted, softening inside her, neither moved, and he simply felt her tender fingertips at his shoulders in light soft circles, massaging him. And thought, that this is how it always should have been, had he fought for her.

Her breath fluttered against his skin, herself tired in exertion from their shared pleasure.

“I was a fool - for allowing you to slip from my grasp.”

She sat up, to look down at him, her face flushed, hair in messy waves, looking every bit as beautiful as the day he'd lost her.

But she smiled, her finger tracing the pattern impressed on the leather of his eye patch, “you may have been a fool,” she started.

Her finger hooked beneath it, and lifted it away, her expression unchanged as her thumb stroked the indent of the scar at his cheek. Aemond felt his heart soar in a way that almost felt terrifying.

“I never slipped from your grasp,” she uttered gently, “my heart was always yours.”

Aemond brushed her hair from her features, her words sending waves of ecstasy thrumming in his veins.

“Just as mine shall always be.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @emmaisafictionwhore @minholy223

[starogeorgina]

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝

Parings: Alys Rivers x reader, Daemyra x reader

Warnings: Smut, swearing, choking, incest, slight dubcon (under the influence of magic)

You had yet to decide if being forced to travel to Harrenhal alone in the name of your brother and king, Aegon, to persuade the river lords to fight for him was the best or worst thing to happen to you during the war. You arrived days before Daemon did, but you had barely spoken to anyone; you had been far too trapped in your own mind to rally an army.

“Good girl, just like that.”

Alys’s praise causes the throbbing between your legs to worsen. If the rumors were to be believed, Alys Rivers was a witch, and you weren’t sure if you believed she was anything other than a temptress. From the moment your dragon landed at Harrenhal, you sensed something shifting—a charge in the air. You arrived during the hour of the owl, and Ser Simon Strong had been a gracious hoist and honest about not bending the knee to Aegon from the beginning. He also warned you to stay away from Alys.

She starts rutting against your face while you suck on her clit. “Are you going to do everything I say, precious?”

Unable to answer verbally, you nod.

“Good. I know that tongue of yours can be used for more than just a witty comeback, so I expect you to use it on the silver-haired queen.”

You nod again.

Alys looks down at you with a smirk on her face; she thrives welding such power over a dragon. She strokes your hair and says, “You’ll take the king consort's seed and seduce the queen. Pleasure her as you do me.”

Perhaps Alys was a witch; it was the only logical reason why you would agree to such a thing.

Alys squeezes your breast, causing you to press your thighs together. She moans, “I want you to moan for them. Let them hear the sweet sounds of you coming undone.”

You finally remove your mouth from her cunny. “What do I do after?”

“When they are done fucking you, you come and find me.” She smiles down at you, her hand delicately resting above your forehead. “But first, you will finish pleasuring me, and then I shall return the favor until the time is right.”

—

“She’s been too busy burying her head between the witch's thighs to raise an army.”

Daemon wasn’t wrong; you were preoccupied with Alys when Rhaenyra arrived at Harrenhal. The army her husband had gathered bent the knee to her, and the couple had reunited. You raise your brows, challenging him, “Jealous?”

His lips twitch as he fights back the urge to lash back, but the look on Rhaenyra's face prevents him from saying anything further. She had you brought to their bedchamber to speak in privacy. “Last we spoke, you mentioned your mother was pushing to find you a match; did you make one?”

“I refused every man she put before me.”

The line of questioning had nothing to do with the war being waged. Perhaps the witch was messing with everyone's minds.

“Why?” She asks sternly.

“Mirre se vali sia nākostōbā.” (All the men were weak.)

She smirks, “You want to marry someone who shares the blood of the dragon.”

“No, I don’t want to marry them. I just want their seed.” You chuckle, “Don’t look so surprised, sister; we both know the men we choose to marry don’t need to father whatever children we bear. I don’t see an issue with wanting to keep our bloodline pure.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon share a look. They silently exchange words, and when Rhaenyra nods her husband's strut over to you, he takes your chin in his hand. “The queen is not only generous; she is merciful. She will spare your life and will allow me to fill you with my seed, but only if you swear to fight for her.”

“I swear.”

“Sȳz riña.” (Good girl)

Rhaenyra traces her hand along the curve of your ass. “The child and any dragon they bond with will only fight for me.”

“Yes.”

Daemon comes up behind you and rubs your breasts through your dress. When he feels your nipples become hard, he pinches them. His lips brush against your ear. “Say yes, my queen.”

“Yes, my queen.”

He chuckled cruelly, “such a wanton princess.

“A spoilt princess,” Rhaenyra adds. “Strip for us.”

Quickly, you take off your dress and stand naked in front of them. The thought of being touched by them both excited and terrified you.

Rhaenyra looks you up and down with a wicked smile on her face. “Lay on your back and open your legs.”

Following her command, you get onto the bed and lay on your back. The blue sheets beneath you are soft against your skin. Heat rushes to your cheeks when you spread your legs open and expose yourself to both of them.

Rhaenyra tuts seeing how wet you are. “And I suppose I’ll need to make sure you’re ready to take the king's cock,” her tone mocking, yet she slides her nails across the soft flesh of your thigh, then slides a finger into your wet cunny with ease. “She is tight.”

“Oh,” Daemon taps his cock against your mouth. As soon as your lips parted, Daemon shoved himself into your mouth. “You are indeed a merciful queen.”

Rhaenyra removed her own clothing; the curves of her body are a beautiful sight to see. She stands between your legs and leans down. She flicks her tongue over your clit a few times, but when you moan, she stops. “You are enjoying this far too much. This is a privilege you should be working harder for.”

Like an obedient worker in a pillow house, you take him deeper into your mouth. Daemon groans, feeling the vibrations of you gagging on his cock. He wipes the saliva pooling from your mouth and spreads it across your breasts. “You enjoy being used; perhaps we will bring you back to Dragonstone to be the queen's whore. Would you like that?”

You nod while choking on him.

“She’s so wet.” Rhaenyra kneels between your thighs, and her tongue dips in between your folds.

Daemon pulls his cock from your mouth and watches as his wife scissors two fingers inside your cunt and sucks on your clit, stretching you out for him. From the skilled way Rhaenyra fucks you with her finger and mouth, you know this isn’t the first time she’s touched a woman.

Coming undone, you arch your back and coat her fingers with your juices.

Rhaenyra and Daemon switch places, and while he slides the head of his cock between your folds, you take Rhaenyra's breast into your mouth and suck greedily.

Daemon mumbles something in High Valyrian, then roughly pushes into you, stretching your cunt on his cock.

Feeling your body tense, Rhaenyra glides her hand over your stomach and, using two fingers, starts rubbing your clit. “You are taking him well. Is this your first time being bedded by a man?”

You let go of her breast to answer her, “Yes.”

Daemon lightly slaps your thigh.

“Yes, my queen.”

Smirking Daemon says, “The princess is learning quickly.”

Alys voice echoes inside your head, telling you to please Rhaenyra just as you did her. “My queen, please, let me pleasure you with my mouth.”

Her free hand is suddenly around your neck, and Rhaenyra squeezes hard to make you squirm without completely cutting off your air supply. Her lips graze against yours. “Do you think you deserve to taste me?”

“No, my queen, I don't. But I do wish to make you feel good.”

Rhaenyra smashes her lips against yours, then abruptly pulls away. Daemon speeds up his thrusts while Rhaenyra gets onto the bed and straddles your face. Alys has taught you how to fuck a woman with your tongue and fingers, and it doesn’t take Rhaenyra long to start moaning your name.

Her screams of pleasure are silenced by Daemon when he captures his lips.

The sounds of them kissing are exhilarating. Your legs are gripped tightly and held open wider as Daemon’s thrusts become sloppy. It only takes a few more rubs at your clit for you to come undone again, but your moans are muffled by Rhaenyra’s cunt. The vibrations of your moans tip her over the edge; she squeezes your breast harshly while riding her high against your face.

Daemon fingers dig into your hips. He grunts, spilling his seed inside you.

Rhaenyra gets off you and tenderly kisses your neck; her skin is shinny with sweat, and her head is disheveled. She looks beautiful. “What are you thinking about, princess?”

“That Harrenhal is cursed.”

Confused by your answer, she rests her head against your shoulder while Daemon caresses your leg with one hand and strokes his half-erect cock with the other. The king consort was far from done with you.

Somewhere in the distance, you hear Alys giggling. Taking Daemon’s seed was only the beginning of her plan.

[yesimwriting]

A Matter of Timing

Midway part 2!! read part one here: Midway

Summary: Despite the hardships of your marriage to Aegon, the two of you reach a new understanding during the aftermath of his accident.

Warnings/info: forced marriage turned to awkward, subtle pining masquerading as friendship, descriptions of (chronic) pain, aegon's recovery being sped up slightly through a small time skip for the sake of plot, slight aemond slander, canon compliant incest (reader is rhaenyra's daughter)

----

The light spilling in through the window is a beacon, the warmth of it offering the king's apartments something beyond the somber sterility that followed his father throughout his final years.

At times, if Aegon allows his mind to dwell on the similarities between his situation and Viserys's the ache of his body morphs into something else, an all consuming beast that nearly makes him wish Sunfyre's wing had never cradled his broken body. It'd be a simple thing to spend the rest of his days being constantly mended within the safe confines of this room.

Someone else would rule in his place--like his mother and grandsire had done for his father--likely the same man, the same brother that betrayed him, and Aegon's role as a vestigial only ever visited out of obligation would be cemented into reality.

"I'm sure you're tired of novels..." The voice is not much different than the sun's light, a thing of warmth. His father did not have anything similar to you. "But I do not have much to speak of."

Aegon believes it. His authority was one of the few things holding you to your position. Now, with him here, he imagines your existence within the Red Keep has only grown more precarious. His mother had been petitioning to separate you from the monarchy since before the incident. He can't imagine anyone of significance telling you anything.

"Your small council meets often, which seems to be occupying a great deal of your mother's time." Your summary is blank, straightforward as you search your thoughts for information he might be interested in. "Aemond's recently been named regent, though I'm sure someone must have told you that already."

Aemond. The confirmation of his suspicions jabs at him, the assuring nature of your voice briefly losing its hold on him. He begs his body, his mind to cry out...All he can manage is a rasp that's almost a name and twitch of his fingers.

The seat you've pulled next to his bed side creaks as you shift. You've always been encouraging of his movements, invested in each sign of the life still clinging to him in a way that implies a devotion someone like you could never feel for him. "Aegon?" He tries again, another ragged distortion of his brother's name. "Are you--Do you want him?"

No. You are the only one that seems to be on his side entirely. You may detest his family, you may desire your mother's rule, but his recovery matters to you. Even with your care, he has no way to express what he needs to.

He squints his eyes open, a task that takes more from him than he'd ever admit. His sight is weak, the side of his face that took the worst of Vhagar's flames agitated by the effort. You're close enough for him to make out your features, your expression. With your eyebrows pinched together like that, you look a little younger, like the girl that used to pretend to understand the crude jokes made by her brothers and uncles.

You shift closer, your hand finding a place on his bed. With trembling fingers, Aegon manages to place his hand over yours. Your gaze dips downwards, briefly landing on where your fingers meet before finding his features again. You study him with a focus that'd be unnerving coming from anyone else.

Your lips part before you're ready to speak. "You don't want Aemond here." It's not a question.

Your understanding reaches something deep inside of him. The relief offers him the strength needed to tilt his chin downwards, an approximation of a nod. You let out a breath, a question clearly waiting on the tip of your tongue.

The sound of assured footsteps stops you from asking it. You press your lips together, attention shifting towards the room's entrance. The door groans as it's pulled open, the footsteps continue, clearer now. Aegon's eyes flit towards the doorway in time to see his brother.

Instead of looking at the results of his betrayal, Aemond's eye settles on something just past Aegon. You. "Your grace."

Dread coils itself inside Aegon's stomach. His fingers bend as much as he can will them to, his hold on you attempting to convey anything that might get you to stay away from Aemond.

Overnight, Aemond has been consumed by a monster that's fed off his loyalty, leaving nothing in its wake but a shell of who his brother used to be. That beast has no place near you.

Your eyes don't leave Aemond, but your fingers do press into his, a subtle confirmation of something. "My lord."

Aemond steps forward, his hands politely held behind his back. "How is my brother?" Another step towards his bed, towards you. Aegon's body aches with the desire to move, to place an even greater wedge between you and Aemond. "You are by his side more than ever these days."

Your lips press together, a tight lipped smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "It seems someone should be." The lack of subtlety in your comment seems to hit you a moment too late. In an attempt to remedy your mistake, you tack on something polite, "With you all understandably concentrating on the war efforts and ruling over your people. You more than most, prince regent."

Your shift to docility paired with the reminder of Aemond's new position seems to work. The corner of Aemond's mouth pulls itself upwards, a predator's smile. "So you've heard."

"Your mother told me this morning," you pause, "She often comes by during the mornings when Aegon's bandages are replaced to oversee his recovery." Aemond moves even closer, his knees practically against the side of Aegon's mattress. "It feels odd to congratulate you considering the circumstances, but I am sure it is still a great honor to serve your realm."

Aemond's single eye focuses on your expression. Aegon feels the inflation of his lungs stall. "Thank you, my queen." His brother's gaze does not leave you. "You seem to have taken to your own service." Aegon's stare does not leave you. "Mornings, evenings, sometimes through supper...you stay by your husband's side." He lets out a low breath. "Though noble, I do worry that you are not making enough time for your own rest."

The concern in Aemond's voice ignites something in Aegon's blood. It is not enough to disfigure him and steal his throne, now Aemond needs his wife as well. This is another aspect of Aemond's greed that Aegon should have long ago suspected.

Despite your questionable parentage and the circumstances surrounding your union, your beauty has never been deniable. Of course Aemond had seen it as well. Your way of being is another factor that made being forced into this marriage tolerable, even when you hated him most, your arguments and protests had never been cruel, they had only been vexing in the most intriguing way possible. Aegon should have known that, too, would not go unnoticed by his brother.

Aegon's fingers tighten around yours. "Though appreciated, your concern is unnecessary." Your voice is even, words measured. "I often rest in my own apartments, as they are connected to my husband's, which means that I do not have to worry about him needing something and no one being around to hear him."

"Your loyalties to the king are admirable." Aemond moves even closer to Aegon's bed, his knees pressing into the bed's side. "And they have been noticed. We are both aware of the skepticism some hold towards you because of your mother, but no one can deny that you are a good queen. You are poised, intelligent, and beloved by the small folk."

Aemond extends an arm over Aegon's form, his fingers gently brushing against the edge of your hairline, pushing a stray strand of hair back into place. "And I plan to look after you in the ways your husband cannot, as my brother would have wanted."

If Aegon were capable of full movement, he'd take his brother's remaining eye. As if sensing his unease, or perhaps even feeling some of your own, your hand squeezes his. "That is very kind of you, my lord. Thank you."

He nods, straightening fully. "Of course. I must now leave you both, the small council is waiting for me. I was only given a moment to check on the king's health."

"Yes, attend to the king's small council, your brother is well looked after."

Aemond presses his lips together, his expression uncertain. "I am sure."

With that, Aemond turns around. His footsteps are even, unhurried as he moves towards the room's entrance. You're quiet as he leaves, attention focused on the doorway.

After a long moment, once you are certain that Aemond is no longer within the confines of Aegon's apartments, you scoff. "I wouldn't want him involved in my recovery, either."

Your thumb drags against his knuckles, the contact so soft it borders on overwhelming. "But you--the two of you were close, weren't you?" Your eyebrows pinch together curiously. "At least, relatively so. You defended him after..." You blink, eyes glossier than they were a moment ago. "After Luke."

Aegon should have known then that Aemond was never meant to be an integral part of his reign. That type of instability, that connection to rage...loyal as a hound. The only thing his brother feels a sense of duty towards is his own ambition.

If he had punished his brother for Lucerys's death, exiled him, he wouldn't be here. You'd also--it would have been an opportunity to demonstrate his commitment to his wife.

"I--" His throat burns around the syllable. You blink, the grief melting away from you as you focus on his words. "Things are different now." The energy it takes to form the words is not worth the cost. He cannot even decide what to focus on. You--comforting you, or attempting to explain Aemond's betrayal.

You squeeze his hand. "Even when it hurt, a part of me always understood why you sided so adamantly with Aemond. That is not to say that I was not angry..." He remembers your rage, the threats you had made again and again before breaking down. Aegon said nothing as you cried, but he did smooth circles against your back until you fell asleep. "I would have done anything for my brother."

You let out a low breath, the grief behind your eyes melting into something more present. "You are speaking more more these days." There's a warmth to the phrasing that soaks into his skin. "It is...assuring." Your fingers press into his. "If you do not mind me asking, why do you not wish to see Aemond?"

Aegon watches you openly, taking in your features and the softness behind your eyes. After everything that happened between the two of you, the circumstances of your marriage, you found it in you to tend to him as he struggled to not lose his hold on life. How could he repay your kindness by telling you the truth?

You're quicker to action when it comes to defending others, he had seen it in the way you spoke of Lucerys. As of now, Aemond seems to like you, or at the very least, want you. And though the thought makes his skin crawl, that is a much safer position for you than knowing what Aemond is. At the very least, until Aegon recovers enough to be in a position to defend you.

"He saw me go after Meleys after--he told me not to." The lie leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He squeezes your hand, reminding himself what he's doing this for. "And--and he is ruling now, he should--he should remain focused."

You watch him for a moment, eyebrows pinched together uncertainly. He lets out a breath, slowly moving his arm. Aegon ignores his pain as he lifts your hand to his lips. What the gesture takes from him is returned by your smile.

----

Evenings are usually his respite, the time between the late afternoon and true nightfall.

These fleeting hours provide him something much needed. A way of pretending that he is no patient, no burden. With no one around to hover and spare him pitiful glances, Aegon can almost imagine that his life has gone unchanged.

Especially during the evenings in which you join him. The solitude softens you, allowing you to speak freely and sometimes even jest about some of the happenings of his court. You’re rarely able to update him on any significant political changes, but he finds the gossip you can offer him distracting enough—or, at the very least, your delivery of the rumors is.

Tonight, however, there have been no stories recounting a supposed affair between Ser Criston Cole and some unknown woman or of the changes in the small folk’s attitudes. There has only been silence and the flickering of candlelight.

He glances towards the seat to left of his bed, one of your books abandoned in your place. The cane one of the maesters had encouraged him to begin practicing with is propped up against the wall behind the chair. Perhaps you are starting to realize that what drew you to Aegon was not some newfound appreciation of your connection, but your goodness, your desire to repair him the way you would a wounded animal.

Though still healing, Aegon has made it a few paces away from death's doorstep. He's been instructed to practice moving as much as he can bear to, to get used to strain of his limbs and the protests of his body. However, Aemond and the small council have made a point of suggesting Aegon does all he can to keep his recovery process away from prying eyes for the sake of morale.

The soft sound of footsteps echoes from beyond one of the walls that keep him from the outside world.

"I appreciate you taking the time to escort me to my husband's apartments, my lord."

Aegon's fingers dig into his sheets, his body incapable of giving him the force needed to exhaust any real frustration. That's another thing that seems to have changed in these last few days. With the crown on his head, Aemond has pivoted towards a new goal--you.

"These are uneasy times, my queen, I am glad to be assured of your safety."

His queen. Aemond has done all he can to protect your position within the Red Keep. He continues to promote you, partly out of a way of placating the small folk that support you and mainly as some kind of ploy to draw you in.

"Thank you, again," you say, "I won't keep you any longer, your time is valuable."

Without another word from his brother, the door to his apartments creeks open. Less than a minute later, the final door dividing the two of you is pushed open slowly. The hinges still creek, but you're still more careful than you need to be as you continue forward.

You turn to face him before the door can fall shut. "You're sitting." The words are said with such warmth, Aegon's frustrations are nearly banished from his mind.

"You've seen me sit."

His flatness does not quell your joy. "I know, but you're not with the maester...and it--it's later than you'd usually sit." You continue forward, stopping at the foot of his bed. You allow yourself to watch him openly. "And your skin is losing its yellow undertones." You place a hand on the foot of his bed, eyes shifting away from him. "Watching you recover...it has brought me a great deal of peace."

There's a hint of vulnerability in the way you stare at his bedding. Aegon lets out a breath. You are not the conniving type, and you have no way of knowing what Aemond really is. "Well, you deserve a great deal of credit." The words are enough to get you to begin walking again. "I do not know where I'd be without you."

You smile, stalling at the other side of his bed. "I am wonderful, I know." You place your hand against the bedding, but not yet pulling them back. "In reality, I wish there was something I could to ease your pain. You are the one that is still recovering from Meleys's flames."

He turns his head enough to look at you. "You deserve a great deal of credit for that as well."

You smile again, this time the look a much more genuine thing. "Can I stay in here tonight?"

The question is one of the few formalities that you still cling onto. You sleep in his bed more often than your own these days. "I'd never ask you to leave my bed."

You roll your eyes as you push back his sheets. You push off your shoes before crawling into his bed. He enjoys your proximity more than he'd ever be able to tell you.

You settle close enough for him to be able to feel the warmth radiating off of your skin. "I missed you tonight."

"Then perhaps you should have taken your supper with me."

You let out a low breath. "I wanted to, but Aemond asked me about how often I have supper here, and I couldn't think of what to say."

Aegon cannot help his scoff. "And when Aemond calls..."

You turn to face him, your body shifting even closer. "He is acting as the king, he is your regent--"

"My regent, my throne, my wife." The embittered words come out before he can stop them.

"What?" You're staring at him with wide, bewildered eyes. "You cannot possibly think that I, of all people, have been disloyal to you."

Regret immediately jabs at his chest. His anger, his fear, none of it has anything to do with you. "No, I did not mean it in that way."

"I am here when you go to bed, I am here when you rise, I am here more than I am anywhere else. In what moment would I have had time to be unfaithful?" You push your weight onto your knees, hurt pooling in your eyes. "Perhaps while eating with your family, or--or sitting with the ladies of a court that loathes me?"

The yellow glow of the candlelight highlights the shininess of your eyes. "I tolerate my brother's murderer because we are married, because I am left no other option. Do not ever accuse me of betraying you or Luke like that ever again."

The words are sharp, tears brimming in your eyes as you force them out. Guilt ensnares some vital force in his chest, the pain of his body amplified by reget.

He whispers your name, the sound raspy and pathetic. "It is not you, it is the fucking traitor that is determined to take everything of value from my life."

You blink, the self righteous anger and offense briefly leaving you. "Traitor?" The mistake leaves his face warm. "What--" Your eyes flit towards the door. "Aegon, I am going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me. If these last weeks have meant anything to you, I want you to be honest with me."

He swallows. You reach for his hand. "Your injuries--are they from Meleys's flames?"

Aegon squeezes your palm to his with a force that leaves pain pulsing up his arm. Beneath the weight of your stare, your silent pleading, he breaks. Aegon shakes his head.

You exhale, an odd sort of tranquility coloring your features. "Okay." Carefully, you bring his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss against his knuckles. The serenity of your movements throws him. "Thank you for your honesty."

Aegon watches as you set his hand down gently. You begin to shift back, forcing Aegon to straighten his spine even further. "Where--where are you going?"

"To tell the guards that their prince regent, the same man that removed his own mother from the small council, the same man that killed my--" Your voice cracks at the last syllable. "My brother, has now attempted to kill--" The words waver before breaking off entirely. "To kill the king."

Aegon reaches for you, his fingers finding their way around your wrist. He latches onto you as if you might disappear if he allows you to. "We cannot say anything."

The sentence pushes you away, sending you to that distant place that took you after your brother's passing. Aegon ignores the way his side protests as he sits up even further, his hand coming to rest against your spine.

"Guards know no loyalty beyond orders and their wages, Aemond is in a position of immense power. You are beloved by the people, but hold little standing in your own court." He runs his knuckles against your lower back. "Look at me. Any number of incidents resulting in my death could be deemed an accident. I can't--I can't protect myself, let alone you."

It takes you a moment to return. "He killed my brother." Tears begin to run down your face. "He almost killed you." You're crying openly now. "We need--we--"

"I know," he whispers, "But as of now, we have nothing except things to lose." Aegon moves his hand, allowing it to settle against your waist. "He likes you now, and that--that is a safe thing."

You inhale sharply, the sound a little more than a sniffle. "I don't care."

"I do." This is one area that he is unwilling to compromise in. "I won't risk you." He releases your side in favor of reaching for your face, his thumb wiping at already spilled tears. "Promise me that you will not do anything. Please."

"We cannot let him get away with this."

"We won't," Aegon vows, "Because we will wait until the right time. I will heal further. He will make a mistake, and if I do not hear of it, you will." He drags his thumb against your cheek again, his fingers settling beneath your jaw. "Promise me."

After a moment, you nod. "I promise." The words are shallow and uncertain, but Aegon does not fear them. You mean your promises. "What if he hurts you again?"

"As long as I am feeble and making no attempts to regain control or expose him, he has no need to." You look up at him, expression unconvinced. "And he will not do anything in front of you."

You dip your chin downwards, a halfhearted nod. "I will not leave you." There's an earnestness there that rattles something inside of him. Your unflinching resolve to promise that you're there for him, that this is not his battle alone.

Aegon shifts forward, his body begging him to resume neutrality as he begins to pull you towards him. You're quick to respond, leaning into his touch. Aegon presses his lips against yours.

He's kissed you before--at your wedding, a few times during your handful of attempts at producing a child, and even less times during the day when particularly enjoying your company. But this is something else, something more desperate and meaningful. His lips drag against yours with less ease than he'd like, a dull ache nearly taking him out of the moment.

You pull back first, your breaths ragged as you look at him. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

It was not simple, but far from agonizing enough to make it unworthwhile. "Do not apologize for that." You nod without looking him in the eye. Aegon moves back, allowing his back to rest against cushioning. "Go have your ladies help change you into your night gown, and come back."

It's early for you to get ready for bed, but no one would find it strange. The two of you are married, which means you are welcome to spend as much time together as you'd like. Besides, Aegon likes the thought of you leaving now and not needing to go anywhere until morning.

You agree without question, moving away from him with a subtle nod. "I'll return in a moment."

You leave out of the door that connects his apartments to yours. Before he knows it, you're knocking on the door once before entering his space again. You seem a little lighter, hair brushed and face washed. You return to bed wordlessly, covering yourself with his sheets before resting your head against his shoulder.

Aegon's hand settles against your knee. "I walked a little longer with the maester today."

"That's wonderful," he can hear the smile in your voice. "I'd like to see that. Tomorrow I'll be here instead of sitting with the ladies."

The thought is easing. "I'll put on a good show for you."

"I'm sure you will." You place your hand over his. "I know that you said not to say anything, and it's a timing issue...but there has to be something we can do."

He turns over his hand, his fingers intertwining themselves with yours. "It would help weaken Aemond's claim if I were to have another, more evident heir."

The implications of the statement take you a moment to understand. Once you do, you squeeze his hand a little tighter. "Oh."

The few times the two of you had attempted to create an heir had been far from unenjoyable, just a little uncertain. After Lucerys's death, you were clearly and understandably not in the mood to be looked at a moment too long let alone touched. Aegon obliged you, and would be willing to keep leaving you to yourself if that's what you want.

"We could go back to trying to produce an heir," you mumble, body becoming a little more rigid against him.

He runs his thumb along your knuckles. "Really?"

"I mean, once you're healed enough to feel physically ready," you pause, a little unsure of yourself, "It seems a fitting course of action, and we are married."

He smiles to himself, lifting your hand to his lips. "We are."

----

a/n i'm leaving for my birthday trip tonight so if u liked this u should def send me aegon asks to come back to 🙏💗

Taglist: @dracaryxzs @callsignwidow @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @kazupop @hikaerys @froggyfrip @theargoblog @targaryenswhxre @woodlandwrites @familyshow-orisit @dinomecanico @forevercountingstars @bibli0thecary @magictrump @tempo-rary-fix @mrs-starkgaryen

[dyingswanpavlova]

Secret affairs || 》 Aemond Targaryen 《 OneShot

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x sister!reader

warnings: sorry guys, I'm new to this, I'd say probably mild smut? And also, incest between siblings obviously, a few curse words. Also the dinner scene is a little violent. Love y'all!

summary: Aemond has always found comfort in the loving arms of his sister, that's exactly what he does after his brawl with Jace at the family dinner.

It had been obvious, considering the ridiculous tension in the room. But the moment, Jace and Helaena started dancing, without Aegon bashing anyone's head in, I had considered us to be safe.

But Luke just had to laugh.

At him.

The moment he slammed his hand on the table, followed by a "final tribute", I knew we were done. But I also did not try to stop him. What good was there in it? I could not have prevented it anyway, he was too stubborn and too proud. My seemingly level-headed brother who also was also a brooding, ticking bomb, just waiting to explode.

"To these three...Strong...boys."

"I dare you to say that again."

"Why? 'twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?"

The next thing I saw was how Jace punched him right in the face. I instinctively jumped up - as if I could have done anything to help - but to no one's great surprise, Aemond did not even flinch. He did not even spill the wine from his goblet. The next moment, he tilted his head to the side and pushed Jace to the ground. Luke jumped up as well, only to have Aegon slam his head into the table.

Everyone was screaming and hissing wildly, but Aemond watched with a smug expression as guards pulled the boys back, only to be confronted by Rhaenyra and Daemon.

I finally woke up from my trance and rushed forward, gripping his elbow tightly.

"Was that really necessary?" I asked and sighed.

He was actually calm, which made the situation all the more unnerving. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at me.

"Jace swung first. I was merely speaking my mind. You should be happy.”

I rolled my eyes.

"That may be technically true, but we both know you provoked him. We barely made peace with them."

Aemond gave me a glare. He didn’t like when I was the logical one, especially when it came to the situation at hand.

“And why should I care? Luke’s a bastard.”

"Shh."

I grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the tumult.

"Are you trying to get your tongue cut out?"

He pulled his elbow out of my grip. He hated that.

“What? It’s the truth.”

He crossed his arms again. So stubborn. I hated that.

"I know it's the truth. But don't you remember the last time we discussed this so openly, hm?" I pointed at his eye patch. "Mother barely talked father out of having you sharply questioned, just hours after you lost your eye. Aemond..." I lowered my voice.

"Father will always be on their side, you know that."

He was silent for a brief moment, before rolling his eye in annoyance.

“I am perfectly aware of that.”

He huffed before grabbing my arm and pulling me behind one of the pillars so no one would overhear.

Behind the pillar he was closer to me than he had been all night. His one hand was on my arm, keeping it from moving, but the other was gently placed on my waist, to keep me in place as well. His face was completely stoic, yet I could tell there was anger and frustration bubbling up within him.

“I am not an idiot. I know father does not care about me or any of us. I am well aware that he would choose Jace or Luke over us, any day.”

My expression softened and I gently touched his cheek.

"I know they're bastards, Aemond. And I'm not angry at you for provoking that fight. I'm just worried about you."

His body seemed to relax as I touched his cheek. Yet, he stubbornly still refused to show any proper emotions.

“Worried about me? I can take care of myself. You don’t need to protect me.”

"Yes, I do. In fact, we need to stand up for each other. You, Aegon, Helaena, mother and me. Because no one else cares about us." I said firmly.

He hated admitting it but I was completely correct. He did not speak for a moment. He still held me close, refusing to let go even as he looked at me.

“That does not change the fact that they are bastards. That does not change the fact that Jace will be heir to the throne one day, simply because Rhaenyra is a whore.”

"Aemond." I said sharply and glanced around. Everyone was busy chattering wildly in a mess.

He grunted as he moved towards me, pinning me lightly against the pillar with his body. His hands went to my waist, just to hold me in place as he bent his head so it was next to my ear.

“You may be the only person I love in this family, but that does not mean I will not speak the truth if I want to.”

I closed my eyes.

"I..."

I swallowed.

"I'm not asking you to stop. Just...not here. If someone overheard that, Aemond...It would be considered treason." I said quietly.

His one, amethyst coloured eye shut as his head stayed close to mine. His body was still pressed against me, keeping me trapped between him and the pillar.*

“You are too soft, you know that? Too scared. Father would not care if someone overheard us.”

I scoffed.

"Father would have our tongue cut out in no time if it meant he would protect Rhaenyra and his precious succession."

He growled softly in annoyance as he pulled away from me, still keeping me caged in with his arms, but not as close as before.

“Damn him. One of his bastard grandchildren could do the worst thing in the world and he would still protect them until he dies. But then he would not bat an eye if anything happened to any of us. I mean hell, I lost an eye and he did not give a damn.”

"Do not remind me." I almost hissed. I remembered that day vividly. Aemond did not even shed a single tear, except for when the panic coursed through his body, right after it had happened. Later on he only said Do not mourn me mother. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon. While I had spent all night sobbing.

He heard my hiss, and he immediately felt guilty. He knew that day effected me, maybe more than it effected him. His voice had become much softer as he spoke again.

“I have not forgotten the look on your face.”

He gently grabbed my chin, forcing my head up gently to look at him.

“It was like you were the one who lost an eye.”

I reached out and gently trailed my fingertips along the outline of his eyepatch.

"If only it had been me." I said quietly.

His eye shut as I grazed his eyepatch. He hated when I said things like that.

“Do not ever say that.”

He suddenly grabbed my wrist, so I would stop touching the eyepatch. He could tolerate a lot of things being said about his missing eye, but the one thing he could not take was when I made that comment.

He gripped my wrist tightly as he continued to hold it. He could still remember how upset I was that night. How I cried and cried and how nothing he could say seemed to calm me down. He even remembered holding me that night, just so I would calm down.

He pulled my arm gently, forcing me flush against him once more as he leaned down so he was once again close to my ear.

“The look on your face that night, seeing me all bloodied up and missing my eye…I do not want to ever see that look on you again.”

I sighed deeply. "I felt like I was dying."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his chest to hide it. I sniffled softly but somehow I had to smile.

"I still cannot believe you had to comfort me."

He instinctively wrapped his arms around my waist when I held onto him. He even smiled slightly as well as I buried my face in his chest.

“You could not handle the sight. You are too soft and emotional.” He teased.

I shook my head.

"It was not the sight that made me go insane that night. It was...you. It happened to you of all people."

Aemond’s heart skipped a beat when he heard me say that. He was quiet for a brief second. A thousand feelings and thoughts passed through his mind. Yet his voice was quiet and soft, almost sheepish even after a second.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I pulled my head back and gently cupped his face in my palms.

"It means, I love you and you got hurt that day. And that almost killed me." I said quietly.

He felt a shiver go down his spine when I gently cupped his face. No one had ever touched him, especially his scarred face, with that sort of gentleness. No one but me. He found himself leaning into my touch, his eye closing for a moment.

“It is just an eye, Venice.”

His voice was uncharacteristically soft. He hated feeling vulnerable. It was one of his only weaknesses- me.

"Not to me." I whispered back.

He was silent again. He suddenly felt like that night again. When I had cried and begged and pleaded for him to be more careful. How I had wrapped his face in a cloth and tended to his eye, while trying to keep his face hidden from others.

His voice was still soft, as if something in his mind had suddenly snapped. He swallowed as his hands held onto my waist.

“You love me too much, you know that?”

I smiled gently.

"I am well aware." I said quietly. "I cannot help it."

He was quiet for a moment, soaking in my words, soaking in my touch. He suddenly pulled me fully against his body. My head tucked under his chin so he could hold me as close to him as he could.

“You are being ridiculous.”

Yet he could not deny that he craved my love and affection all the time. He was desperate for my attention.

I laughed softly.

"And you are an emotional cripple." I teased.

He chuckled lowly as he held me even closer with one arm, while the other hand went to my waist once more. He suddenly grabbed a little tighter at my hip. He loved my teasing. No one had ever spoken to him in such ways before. He knew our father might not even give us a second glance if we were suddenly dead. Mother was trying. In her own way. And failing.

“I am not an emotional cripple. You are just annoying. An annoying brat.”

I smiled warmly and pinched his cheek.

"I know you are not. I was teasing you."

He grunted and made a face as I pinched his cheek. He tried to act annoyed, yet he was actually quite fond of my touch. He suddenly pinched my on your rib, in the same place he knew I was ticklish. Accidentally, of course.

I laughed breathlessly and swatted his hand away.

"Hey!"

“Whoops.”

He said nonchalantly, as if it really was an accident. However he smirked when I swatted his hand away.

"Careful now, little sister. I may have to start tickling you for real.”

I smirked and looked up at him.

"You better not, you know? I fight back."

I bit my lip and my expression turned more serious when I heard how mother apologized to Rhaenyra on our behalf behind the pillar. I sighed and buried my face in his chest again.

"Can I come over later?" I asked quietly.

It was not uncommon. Ever since the eye incident, I would sleep in his bed ever so often. Being near him made my nightmares go away. I felt like the older we got, the more inappropriate it felt, so I would normally sneak into his room after dark.

We had gotten...close, a few times, but I had never misinterpreted it as something meaningful. We simply needed each other...Or at least that was what I told myself.

He quickly noticed my changed demeanor when he heard our mother. He could have scoffed at them, but he was more focused on me at the moment. I looked troubled, clearly upset. He nodded subtly as I asked to come over later. He tried to sound unbothered and indifferent as he responded.

“As if I mind.”

His heartbeat was picking up. Me sneaking over at night had become more normal in the past couples years, ever since he had lost his eye. He would never admit it to out loud, but I knew he preferred having me in his bed.

He glanced down at me as I buried my face into his chest. He suddenly felt extremely protective. He was aware of how inappropriate it probably was to continue having me sleep in his bed. However he was too stubborn to stop it. He had almost become dependent on it over the years, especially after I started becoming much more affectionate towards him as well.

He placed a hand on the back of my head and gently played with my hair as he held le close.

“You are such a needy little brat.”

I smiled faintly.

"But only to sleep." I whispered, not sounding too convincing to my own ears.

He smirked slightly once more as I whispered that to him. He was amused at the fact that I was trying to insist that I only needed him to sleep, and that it was all it was. He was not stupid. He caught all the affectionate gestures, the stares, the looks I would give him. He could tell I was just as dependent on him as he was on me.

“Of course. Only to sleep.”

He said in a sarcastic tone, trying his best to hide the fact that he enjoyed having me in his bed.

I swallowed hard and bit my lip. I intertwined my fingers with his.

"I mean it. We will simply sleep. We cannot continue to..."

I closed my eyes.

"You know what I mean."

That was what I said ever so often and a few days later we would fall back into our old patterns.

He raised an eyebrow when I linked my fingers with his. He could not help but get a little annoyed at the fact that I kept insisting that we both would not do more than sleeping together. He let out a quiet sigh through his nostrils.

“Yes. Only sleep. I got it.”

He responded again in a sarcastic tone. He knew deep down I would probably not keep the promise of never going further. I never did.

As I was holding his hand, he suddenly gave it a slight squeeze. He was growing irritated at how badly he wanted me at that very moment. He did not like the way I made him feel so needy and desperate.

“Just come over after dark, as usual.” He finally spoke again, his voice low and soft. He was trying his best to sound nonchalant about it.

I nodded and squeezed his hands back.

"I will go to my chambers. Promise me you will not get into any more fights tonight?" I said teasingly but there was a hint of concern in my voice as my fingertips gently trailed along his bruised chin.

He rolled his eye and chuckled lowly, finding my request amusing- although he knew deep down I was only half joking. He leaned into the touch of my fingers on his face. He would never be able to say no to me when I was sweet and affectionate with him.

“I promise to be on my best behaviour. No fights, no insults, no snide remarks. I shall behave with the most decorum tonight.”

I smiled sweetly and looked at him for a moment longer before I gently withdrew from his embrace and left the dining hall with quick steps.

*

He reluctantly let me go when I pulled away from his embrace. He wanted me to stay, to continue feeling my body against his and my skin under his fingertips. However he knew it was best to not take the risk of someone seeing us two like that.

He immediately felt antsy and irritated once I was out of sight. All throughout the rest of the dinner, he fidgeted and was restless. He felt extremely distracted. The bastards were back in their quarters, but Aemond could not get his mind off something else entirely.

Once in my room, I took a quick bath and got myself ready for the night. I put on a white nightdress and a white robe. Then I sat down on the bed to read until I was sure that everyone was finally deep asleep. When I thought it to be late enough, I closed my book, opened the door and rushed through the corridor with quick, quiet steps until I reached the door to his bedroom. My steps echoes through the hall, but no soul was close by. I did not bother to knock and quickly vanished inside his bedchambers.

He was laying on his bed, wide awake and reading a book as he waited for me. He had already changed into his nightwear: an all black, satin robe that he wore with nothing underneath. He was slightly frustrated already, having grown very eager and desperate to have me in his arms again. That frustration faded slightly as the door slowly creaked open and I appeared.

He shut his book and set it on the bedside table as soon as he saw me. He sat up, his eye watching me as I practically scurried over to the bed.

He watched as I climbed into his bed on all fours. His heart was beating faster than normal and he was growing impatient. He immediately grabbed me by the hips and pulled me onto his lap. He was in dire need of having me close, having me in his lap, with my legs on either side of his hips.

He was still frustrated and a little irritated, as he wrapped his arms around me in an almost possessive way. His eye darkened as he took in my figure in the white nightdress.

I wrapped my arms around him and rested my head on his shoulder.

"How was the rest of the dinner?" I muttered.

He let out a sigh, suddenly feeling much, much calmer now that I was in his arms, on his lap. He gently cupped the back of my head and ran his fingers through my hair in a soothing motion. He responded in a low, gruff tone as his eye was still darkened with lust - however, he was trying his best to hide it at the moment.

“It was fine. Aegon was as drunk and as unruly as usual. And Rhaenyra was as stubborn and bitchy as always.” He almost spat the last line, as he had never gotten along with our older half-sister.

I smiled faintly.

"So I did not miss much."

He hummed in acknowledgment as he continued to run his hand through my hair. He was growing more and more eager as he was holding me on his lap. He could already feel his body reacting to my closeness. It was driving him insane having me in his lap, wearing such a sheer and revealing nightdress.

“Just the usual. Nothing of worth happened.” He responded in a slightly distracted tone, as he suddenly grabbed my hips a little harder with his hands.

I closed my eyes. I felt how his body reacted to my proximity and of course, my own did, too.

I swallowed and tried to keep my tone nonchalant. To at least try to stick to my earlier words.

"That is good." I said quietly. "Are you in pain? That punch was pretty nasty, but you did not even flinch."

His eye darkened even more when he heard me question him about his injury, specifically about if it was painful or not. He suddenly gripped my hips even harder, his fingers digging into my skin just barely as he shifted me in his lap, grinding me against him.

“I am unharmed. It was a light punch. I have had worse brawls even with Aegon."

He responded, his eye not leaving the way his hands were gripping my hips, the way my sheer nightdress was almost slipping over my thighs.

I could not help the small gasp that left my lips.

He chuckled lowly when he heard that gasp from me, knowing that he had finally gotten me to slip up and give in to him. He suddenly leaned in against my ear, his breath hot and tickly against me as he spoke in a low, gruff tone.

“Does my needy little sister need me?”

He teased me, as he started slowly grinding me against his lap once again, making sure to make me feel how I was affecting him.

A shiver ran down my spine and I let out the softest whimper. Oh, and how I needed him.

"But...Aemond...I thought, we said..." I protested weakly.

He smirked at the way I was already quivering in his arms from his simple touches, and at the way I mewled and whimpered softly as he ground me against him and his lap. It was like music to his ears, watching me lose my composure so quickly.

“I do not care what you said earlier. We both know you need me just as much as I need you.”

He responded with a harsh tone, and he roughly grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

He leaned closer to me, his breath still hot and tickling as it came against my neck now. He roughly grabbed both of my hips with his hands and pulled my body even more tightly against his. He let out a small hiss as he felt my heat rubbing against him, making him feel desperate and needy.

I let out a soft moan and rested my forehead against his shoulder.

"Ah, shit." I whispered breathlessly.

He smiled faintly at my soft moan, his hands grabbing and squeezing my hips roughly as he pulled me even closer to himself. He started slowly grinding me against his lap, the pressure against his own aching length making him even more desperate and needy than he already was.

“Tsk, I told you this was what was going to happen if you came to me. You just cannot resist me, admit it.” *He whispered against my neck, biting and sucking it harshly, leaving marks all the way up to my jawline.

He continued to bite and suck on my neck, leaving a trail of dark marks from my neck to my jaw, marking me as his. He started breathing hard against my skin, desperately gripping m, hips and grinding me against him. He was slowly losing his patience and his control.

“I hope you don’t mind wearing a few extra pretty accessories tomorrow to cover up your neck.” He said in a sarcastic tone in between kisses.

I could not help myself. I rolled over and pulled him along, wrapping my legs around his waist.

"Idiot." I whispered breathlessly. "Last time I was covered in hickeys and bite marks for days. It was so hot outside and I had to run around, covered like a Septa. Mother was so suspicious."

He let out a low chuckle against my neck as I pulled him over with me. He immediately grabbed my legs and held them tightly with his hands. He was completely desperate now that I had initiated the move and started to practically take control of the situation.

"I remember. It was hilarious.” He responded with a smirk, still remembering the fun he had whenever he saw a new bruise he had left on my neck or any exposed skin. I ignored his idiocy.

"Kiss me." I whispered and impatiently started undoing the buttons of his night shirt.

He smirked once again when he heard me demand for him to kiss me, and again when he felt me starting to undo the buttons of his nightshirt.

“So impatient…”

He muttered, as he leaned down and finally started to kiss me in a deep, passionate way. It was a kiss full of desperation, all tongue and teeth. He started getting more and more frustrated as he felt me trying to undo his shirt, but just could not quite do it fast enough.

He grabbed one of my hands and suddenly yanked it away from his buttons, pinning it above my head on the pillow. He was now in the position of power, taking back some of the control that I had grabbed from him, and also frustrated at my lack of speed in undressing him.

“Be patient. You are acting like a spoiled child.” He mumbled against my lips in between messy kisses. He started sucking and biting my bottom lip, wanting to hear me mewl from pain and pleasure, which I quickly did.

I moaned softly against his lips and let out a soft whine.

"Come on, do not make me wait. I have not felt you in days." I whispered pleadingly.

He smiled faintly against my lips at the sound of my whiny and pleading tone. He enjoyed how impatient I was, how desperate I was to have him. It was always a massive boost to his ego whenever I expressed just how much I craved him, just how much I needed him.

“You are so whiney.” He mumbled against my mouth again, before quickly ripping the buttons of his nightshirt open, desperate to get it off.

He pulled the buttons all the way, completely opening up his nightshirt and exposing his upper body to me. He was desperate to feel my touch, to feel my hands on his skin, and he was desperate to feel my body against his as well.

“There you go, princess. Happy now?”

He muttered, in a sarcastic tone, before leaning down and kissing me again.

I let out a shuddery breath and kissed him hard while my hands impatiently roamed around his exposed chest.

He smirked against my lips at the way I was roaming my hands all over his chest hungrily. He enjoyed the feeling of my hands raking across his skin, the way I was desperate to touch him, to feel him, and he was desperate to feel me as well.

"Gods, you are so needy… and impatient… always desperate for me to give you what you want, are you not?”

He mumbled against my lips in between messy kisses.

"I cannot help it. You ruined me." I whispered as my lips found his neck.

He let out a low, stifled moan as I started to kiss and suck on his neck. He closed his eye, relishing the feeling of my lips against his skin and the way my body squirmed under him, wanting him. He was losing control and I was only making it worse.

“I know I did… and you are not complaining, are you?”

He responded as he tightened his hold on the hand that he was holding above my head on the pillow, still pinning me down, on my back, beneath him.

He shifted and moved himself lower on the bed so he could lay in between my legs. He started kissing and nipping at my neck, slowly sucking on the skin, leaving a mark, as he started grinding himself against me again.

"You are all mine, princess. You do not need anybody else - you will be mine, always.”

He started whispering in my ear, still grinding and rubbing himself against me, feeling how my body responded instantly to his touch, to his voice in my ear.

I rolled my eyes.

"Do I look like I am complaining?"

I smirked and gently bit his earlobe, only to whisper: "You ruined me. You compromised me. You turned me into a needy, naughty mess. And I loved every second of it."

He let out another low moan as I whispered that statement in his ear. It was like music to his ears, hearing me admit just how desperately I belonged to him and him alone. He smirked, knowing just how much he had completely changed me, how I had been completely transformed, how he had completely conquered me.

He shifted a little, still laying in between my legs, and he started grinding his hips against me harder as he responded.

"And I take great pleasure in the fact that I did that to you.”

"Oh God-" I moaned softly and immediately my hands went down to undo his pants.

He could not hold back the grin on his face when he saw my hands start to hurriedly undo his pants, clearly getting frustrated with the buttons and buckles. He loved how desperate I was for him, how much I wanted him, and how I was getting impatient with the speed.

“So impatient… so needy… desperate for me, are you not?”

He teased and taunted in a gruff, lust-filled tone.

"Aemond, do you not dare tease-"

When I realized he wore nothing underneath, I laughed.

"So much for only sleeping. You planned this."

He let out a low, amused laugh at my reaction when I realized that he was completely naked beneath his pants. He smirked in response to that comment, loving the fact that I had just realized how much he had planned this out. How he had made sure he was ready for me.

“You know me so well, princess. Do you really think that I would just be lying here, fully clothed, waiting for you to come, knowing you would not be able to resist me?”

He responded with a taunting, teasing, tone.

He smirked again, watching the expression on my face before he started to quickly move himself back up towards me and leaned in close to my ear.

“You should know by now that the only thing I am ever thinking about is you… I cannot get you out of my head… the way you look… the way you react when I touch you… the way you moan and cry for me…”

He started whispering in my ear, still grinding against me as he talked.

"Please." I whispered breathlessly. "I...I need you, Aemond. Now."

He could not ignore the pleading and desperate tone in my voice as I whispered to him how I needed him. He loved it. He loved when I got needy and desperate for him and he could not deny that it was turning him on, making him want and crave me as well.

“Beg for me then, princess… beg and I will give you everything you want.”

He responded, in a deep, lust-filled, voice, still grinding against me as he continued to tease and taunt me.

He felt how my body was squirming and writhing beneath him, how I was so desperately trying to touch him, to touch his body. He loved how needy I was becoming, how I was completely falling apart beneath him, completely under his control.

“Go on, my dear… beg for me… if you want me… if you need me… beg me for it.”

He responded, still taunting and teasing me with his deep tone, still grinding against my aching heat, but not giving me quite what I so desperately wanted.

"Please." I whispered, swallowing my pride. "Please, I am begging you, Aemond. Let me feel you."

He felt his control slipping when he heard my pleading, the way I was begging him, the way I was clearly desperate to feel him. My pleading tone, my desperate words, were all feeding his ego.

“Gods, I love it when you’re pleading for me… begging for me like that… desperate for me to give you what you want…My naughty little love." He responded, still taunting and teasing, but his own need and want growing stronger by the second. He could not deny how badly he wanted me as well.

That was when he decided not to torture me any longer. He positioned himself above me and I finally felt him - teasingly, almost painfully slow.

"Oh God, Aemond-"

I let out a shuddery gasp and buried my hands in his silky hair.

He could not tease and taunt me anymore once he had felt me as well. He had teased and edged us both long enough, bringing us both to the brink of desire, and now he could not hold back any longer. He started pushing himself against me, taking his time, and going painfully slow.

“Gods, I’ve wanted this… I’ve craved this all day… I’ve been desperate for you all day…”

He gasped out in a deep and lust-filled tone.

He felt my hands immediately reach out and grab onto his hair, holding on tightly, and he could not hold back a moan at the feeling of my fingers digging into his scalp.

“Gods, I have missed you, sweetheart."

He muttered out between gasps as he continued to push himself against me, still going as painfully slow as possible, to tease me more.

"Please, Aemond. Do not tease me. Not right now." I gasped out.

He smiled.

And then he made me his. Again and again.

And again.

Until the only thing my lips could form was his name.

And on the next day we promised that all we would do would be to sleep.

[gay-dorito-dust]

okay so if jace and aemond are both in love with reader how do you think they would react if reader was on the other side of the war and they had to fight them on dragon back???

Jace felt his heart break upon realising that he has to fight you. He doesn’t wish to be the reason you are brought to harm that he had once promised to keep you away from, he doesn’t think his heart would be able to handle it, but the realm was being plunged into war and you were unfortunately on the opposite side thanks to your father for pledging your house for Aegon.

Jace had tried to offer you his hand in marriage but your father wasn’t having it, proclaiming that you were already betrothed to someone else. Your father was aware of Jace’s feelings for you but wasn’t about to let his child marry the bastard son of Rhaenyra.

So without any options for him to take to secure your safety, Jace had come to terms with the reality that he had to kill you in order to help his mother sit the throne she was promised, would this war away at him for the rest of his days? Absolutely. You were his heart, his light, his breath of fresh air but now you were the thorn in his side that he couldn’t remove for he didn’t want to forget the delicious pain you brought him by making him love you.

He didn’t want to do this but his family had lost too much to the greens, so seeing you take their side without so much of a fight has to be the greatest betrayal he’s ever experienced, his heart hurt with the notion that he hasn’t once crossed your mind when you had been nothing but all consuming in his. Jace could only hope that the next life would be more merciful for the both of you as you both lunged for the other.

Aemond valued duty above all else for he didn’t have anything else, he was a kinslayer, the worst thing that you could possibly hope to be in Westeros. He had doomed himself from the start by claiming Vhagar that night on driftmark but he didn’t care because for the first time he felt like someone and felt useful for his family.

I wish I could say that he’d wouldn’t dare engage with you in combat but I’d be lying, if anyone before him opposes his family, then they are as good as dead regardless of how he felt in the past. However apart of him was certain you have come to hate him with a rage as blistering as dragonfire for what he had done to Lucaerys at Storm’s End.

He had ruined any and all hopes of your future together for good that day and drove you into siding with his half sister, the true heir to the throne, as you screamed with your whole chest upon Cannibal. Your mind has been made up as had his along time ago, his family needed him to win the war, he was there biggest asset and you were team black’s greatest asset they had at their disposal; your clash was an inevitable one.

Aemond know his heart might always belong to you but you were never his to claim, it wasn’t fate as you were promised to the likes of Benjicot Blackwood. Aemond had caught you both exchanging pleasantries beforehand once but didn’t think much of it until war finally broke across the realm, only then did it started to make sense. You were never his when your heart belonged to another and he wasn’t fully yours either when his heart was set on brining victory to his family over the love that could’ve been.

[thesunfyre4446]

Did you catch one of the reasons why Rhaenyra didn’t believe her father changed his mind was “My father loved me” ah so she’s acknowledging once again that her father didn’t love his 4 other children?

It gave Driftmark “Thank you FATHER” all over again.

This overgrown ass woman has never seen those kids as anything but Alicent’s and they were treated by the whole Targaryen and by extension the Velaryon family- like outsiders.

Rhaenys’s little speech about “when it all began” doesn’t acknowledge that it had already began when their whole family decided to ice out a 15 year old girl who they knew was forced to marry the King. She wants to now talk about family and kinship but they weren’t treated as family because he didn’t choose their 12 year daughter to be his child bride. It already started with Rhaenyra and Daemon hating innocent literal infants and not accepting them into the family fold.

Alicent and Criston not caring for Rhaenyra’s sons are treated like a crime in this fandom whereas the treatment of the Green kids is widely seen as justifiable because of how they are as teens and young adults as if they weren’t just innocent babies and children before too and maybe if they had been treated like family then it what they’re going to do during the dance wouldn’t have been so easy for them.

I’m also really tired of the writers not acknowledging that Viserys was a horrible father to Aegon, Aemond, Helaena and Daeron . His unwillingness to to love them out of some loyalty to Aemma and Baelon, yet his willingness to keep making them is one of his if not his biggest flaw. Viserys is getting the treatment of a modern day celeb/politician who has done shitty things but died suddenly so people are now rewriting history. How do they go from Alicent telling Rhaenys that Viserys wasn’t fit to be King, it should’ve been her. From that moment in the script where she tells Otto that Viserys was a weak and his reign was forgettable and she didn’t want people to draw comparisons to Aegon and his father. To Alicent saying that Aegon is half the King is father was and Otto giving Viserys credit for his, Lionel’s, the small council and Alicent’s work?

How is Rhaenyra defending Viserys with her soul to Daemon as if she didn’t live a stones throw away from her dying father and didn’t give a fuck enough to visit him or tell him that she has had 2 more children until she needed a favor from him that sped up his death. As if he didn’t ruin her life by attempting to breed her Mother like cattle until she died?

gghgjghgjggjg the anons in my inbox are going off today!!!! not a single lie was told.

"Alicent and Criston not caring for Rhaenyra’s sons are treated like a crime in this fandom whereas the treatment of the Green kids is widely seen as justifiable" absolutely fucking this.

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Obsessive tendencies. // Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Noble!Reader.

MDNI, DD:DNE: reader discretion is advised.

block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to prevent seeing dark content posted from me

based on this request.

WARNINGS: noncon to dubcon, kidnapping, obsession, mind break, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, breeding kink, rough sex(?), manhandling(?), multiple orgasms + not proofread.

WC: 2.1k

“Let me go please!” you cry, banging on the tightly shut and locked door, knowing damn well aemond can hear you from the other side. “No, I cannot, I'm sorry.” he apologises before you hear his footsteps, sounding more far away as the time passes, indicating that he had left.

You slide down the door in disbelief, hugging your knees as you wonder how you got yourself into this situation, locked in the highest tower of the keep, with metal bars on the windows to prevent you from jumping off.

Locked away in here like some kind of prisoner.

It all started when you had first met Aemond on Aegon's coronation day, a joyous day for the house of the dragon as it put the uncertainty of the realm to rest at last, wondering who would be their leader between Aegon and Rhaenyra, until Viserys changed his mind and instilled Aegon as heir, and soon passed away later.

Their family dynamic was extremely off putting, but you never cared much about it, you were only there because your house had been invited for the grand dinner after the coronation.

That's when you had met Aemond, at first you did not think much of him, but the more you heard the ladies talk about him, the more curious you got, and so you decided to approach him first.

Big mistake.

He was shy, not really talkative and so you gave up, thinking to not bother him anymore, but what you were unaware of was that he had taken a liking to you.

He tried to approach you many times after that, but your meetings were cut short and constantly interrupted, as if fate was trying to warn you to get away from him.

But like a moth is attracted to a flame, you were pulled towards him, recognizing the efforts that he was trying to talk to you, you started to converse with him more often.

You should not have done that.

You remember announcing that you had to leave soon, as your family's stay had already extended due to political matters, and that was the first time you saw such a dark expression on his face.

You decided to ignore it.

But look where that bought you now.

Locked in a tower, by him.

You sniffed as the tears streamed down your face, dripping down to your neck and you sighed, got up and went over to the bed before resting on it, preferring to cry on a soft silk sheeted bed rather than a hard floor.

You don't know how long it had been since he was gone, but you were woken up by the sound of the door unlocking, and you sat up straight, and there he stood, hands behind his back and a leg extended slightly, his eye on the table, and you turned your gaze to it. He had bought you food.

“Let me go.” you tell him, glaring up at him, but he just sighs and comes near you, you move backwards on the bed and he stops, looking down.

“I apologise, my lady. I know this isn't an ideal situation.” he begins and you scoff, “ideal situation? This is terrifying! Why are you doing this my prince?!” you shout at him, anger pouring out of you.

“I love you.” he suddenly says.

“Wh-what.” you're baffled, not expecting him to say that.

“My lady, I love you, I really do, to the point I had to resort to this, I cannot let you leave me. I apologise.” he speaks and silence falls between you two.

“If you truly love me, please let me go.” you tell him, you notice how his jaw slightly twitches, before he licks his lips to hydrate them, and then speaks up.

“I will do anything for you.”

“then let me-”

“Anything, except letting you go, I cannot do that, you're mine.” he inches towards and your eyes widen, “I want to marry you, and your father is refusing to accept my proposal, so i have to resort to this.” he tells you and you're confused but then he moves even closer, grabbing you by your shoulder and pushing you down on the bed.

Your eyes widen further as he gets on top of you, hands roaming down your bodice, pulling at the strings that hold it together, and that's when adrenaline courses through and you fight against him, thrashing in his grip, trying to get him off of you.

“Please let me go! I will convince my father to get us married, please, I'll pretend this never happened and we can live as you wish.” you plead, pushing his shoulders, and he stops his actions, you feel hope bloom in your chest, thinking that he'd accepted it, and will let you go, but the words that left his mouth proved otherwise.

“No, you will betray me and run away.”

The sound of the fabric of your dress ripping fills the room and you shriek, hands immediately flying towards your chest, crossing against your breasts to protect your dignity but he grabs both your hands and pins them to your sides, revealing your breasts to him.

He was too strong to fight against.

His lips find your neck, trailing kisses down to your collarbone, and to the valley between your breasts before nipping at the flesh, and taking your nipple in his mouth, tongue twirling around the bud, causing it to perk up in arousal.

He grabs the cloth of your dress, tearing it once again, but this time exposing the entirety of you, he pulls off the destroyed clothing and throws it to the side, and that's when you realise your hands were free once again, so you push him, and this time it actually works, cause he is caught off guard and falls onto his back next to your side, you try to make a run for it, but you're too late as he grabs you by your hand and pulls down unto the bed again, and straddles your waist to prevent you from escaping.

“Don't you fucking dare.” he growls into your ear and you whimper, and he moves down, undoing his breeches pulling out his cock and pumping into full hardness. Your eyes widen when you see his length, and the realisation that he was actually going to take your maidenhead.

He lines it up against your entrance, only slightly wet due to the pleasure of him suckling on your nipple before, you push against his shoulders, shaking your head, “Please Aemond, I'll marry you, I won't betray you, let me go.” you sobbingly plead, he was almost going to shove his cock inside of you with no preparation, but knowing how large he is, you will bleed way too much, so he instead of sheathing himself inside you, he instead cups your sex before parting your folds with his fingers, rubbing small circles against your clit.

This causes slither of pleasure to creep up in your body, making you gasp when you feel him pinch those bundle of nerves, you swallow thickly when his finger dips down towards your entrance, and he slowly inserts his fingers, making you squirm in discomfort, having something inside you for the first time.

At first it was only one finger, but then as he thrusts in and out and feels you loosen up, he adds another, curling them upwards, reaching that spongy part within you, making you moan, it doesn't go unnoticed so he tries searching for it again, and when he feels it, he presses against it causing you gasp and grab his hand by the wrist, he shoots you a smirk before his fingers are plunged inside you, curled upwards so it's hitting all the right spots, making you moan loudly.

You shouldn't be enjoying this, this situation is extremely fucked up, but you can't deny the fact that he's making you feel so fucking good, his fingers are paced painfully slow, “Ae-aemond please- faster.” you beg, knowing you are near your peak, you seem to have lost your mind, begging him to go faster? Your mind feels hazy and you whine when you feel him comply with your request, going faster, and then? You are seeing stars as your peak rips through you, causing you to arch your back and moan his name loudly, hand tightly clenching around his wrist, shutting your eyes tightly.

He withdraws his hand, making you miss something inside of it already, he deems that you're prepared enough and once again aligns his cock near your entrance, you wait with your legs spread apart, bracing for the pain, and he pushes himself inside slowly.

He groans, feeling pleasure when his cock slides in, every ridge of your wall holding him tightly and perfectly, as if he was the missing puzzle you desperately needed.

You on the other hand, clench your fists, nails digging into your own hands as the pain of intrusion burns like a hot flame, and unable to take the pain longer, you let out a sob, and aemond looks at you, caressing your face, and kissing your tears away, “Shhh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but you're doing so good for me, just bear it a little more longer okay? I will slide in fully.” and just as he said, he slid in fully, causing you to let out a border line shriek, which he had to cover with his own hand.

He didn't move, letting you adjust, and you tried to calm your breathing, trying to relax, eyes staring up at him as he hair curtains your face, he removed his hand from your mouth and your lips trembled, gasping when he started moving slowly.

He looks down, to where your bodies are connected and moans in delight when he sees your maiden-blood coating his cock, a sick satisfaction blooming in him as he watches it, knowing that he has ruined you, and no one would want you now. This makes him frantic and his thrusts pick up speed, plunging in and out of you at such a fast pace, making your face contort in pain as you desperately try to get adjust to him while also trying to take his harsh thrusts, and soon the burning sensation of pain goes away and it turns into something more pleasurable.

“Ae-aemond, slow down please.” you gasp, unable to keep up, body jolting up and down the bed, as the breath inside you gets constantly knocked out, “Fuck- I'm sorry, I can't.” he apologizes and continues to keep the pace stable, you grip the sheets below for support, wrapping your legs around him in an attempt to slow him down, but it doesn't work.

He leans down, kissing your lips, and then your neck and nipping at the flesh, finding the sensitive spot, making you tilt your head back and moan, your hand shoots up to his hair as he mouths your neck.

He pulls away, and focuses on his thrusts instead, rutting into you like an animal, thumb circling your clit to bring you to your peak before him, and he succeeds, because the next thing you feel is the tightened band in your stomach snapping at a high intensity, “Fuck!” you moan, head falling backwards, and you ride your orgasm out as he thrusts into you.

“God's, I am so close, going to cum inside you and seed you, you'd look so beautiful with my child in your belly—” he gasps, his thrusts becoming sloppier, “so full and round of me yeah? With my heir, and gods- when your tits will fill with milk to feed my babes, fuck, I'll have you many times, keep you full of my children.” he groans, closing his eyes, imagining you with his child, and that's when he snaps, spilling himself inside you with a loud moan.

He starts softening after a while, pulling out of you, unwrapping your legs from around his waist, as you look at him in hazy state, eyes droopy, he admires the view, your legs spread out with his seed leaking out of you, chest heaving up and down, hair messy and some of the drool escaping your mouth.

He kisses you once again, trailing it down to your stomach, and presses a firm kiss on your lower abdomen, before gently rubbing his hand against it. “I cannot wait for it to take root inside you. You'd give me as many heirs as I wish, won't you?” He asks and you don't reply, too tired to form words, eyes closing, drifting off to slumber when you're rudely awakened with a slap to your clit, making you shoot your eyes open at the pain, “Answer me.” he demands and you nod your head, “Yes my prince- as many as you want.” you reply weakly and he hums.

“Hmm, Sȳz riña.” (good girl.)

[bluebellhairpin]

Harwin Strong X f!Reader

Summary: Years have passed since your wedding to Harwin, and now it's Rhaenyra's turn to be wed. With her happiness at the forefront of your mind, you soon make a deal with your husband.

Warnings: Pregnancy. Blood + gore. Reader is fem bodied + called wife/mother/sister + wears a dress. Infidelity/cheating but not really bc it's all consensual. (We're moving slowly into a sort-of polycule.)

Listening to: 'The Green Dress' by Ramin Djawadi

Series Masterlist || AO3 Link || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

A lot had happened in the years since you married Harwin Strong. 

To the realms, a war raged on in the Stepsons, one Lord Corlys was trying to fight, and one that Daemon Targaryen had done his best to help win. Viserys had three new children, two sons, Aegon II and Aemond, and a sweet daughter, Helaena. 

To you though, the most important thing had been your husband. 

As the days after your wedding night turned into weeks, he urged you to open up more. He wasn’t just handsome and brave and brutal enough to gain the nickname ‘Breakbones’, but he was kind. 

He drew you away from your beloved books and needlework - the hobbies acceptable for a woman in King’s Landing - even though, you found, he loved having you read to him, or sit next to you by the fire and keep you company as you avoided pricking your fingers. 

He took you on walks where he had the time, so you could talk, and where he couldn’t he urged you instead to watch him train - you had to admit to him how hot and bothered it made you, to see him so confident with a sword, and being so strong of an opponent against his assigned enemy, or enemies. He only teased you when you told him - something he did often just to see you flustered - and insisted you come watch him more often. 

You came to love him dearly, and how he adored you in return. His Lady Wife - and as the weeks turned into years - the mother of his children. 

Prior to telling him you were with child, Harwin spent far too much of his spare time by your side, but it seemed like he spent all of it with you when you were pregnant. Even when you thought he was away working, Harwin always seemed to be just where you needed him, as if waiting around every corner for the moment you sent for him. As the days passed on, oh how you needed him. When he was around no one else came to your aid faster when your nausea got the better of you - and he never once shied away from it - nor was he shy to demand the quick gathering of your food cravings, which too often consisted of heavily salted potatoes and clay dirt.

You could see in his eyes that he saw no sense in it, but whatever you wanted, you got. You almost could bet he’d get the blood of a Lannister for you if you told him that was what you craved as a drink. 

But what touched you the most was the evenings you spent together. What used to be a time reserved for just the both of you felt as if there were now three. When an unmistakable new bump began to form, Harwin spent his evenings laid face down between your legs, cradling your torso between his warm palms, and talking to your tummy about anything and everything. From childhood stories to how his day went, no subject went untouched when he was trying to speak to your baby. 

He called it a privilege to care for you while you solely cared for your baby, a baby who was now in the world wholly, and had just passed his second name day. 

Your son kept you busy, and Harwin adored him. He’d hoped for a daughter, more often than not speaking to your belly as if a girl laid there, but your boy wasn’t any less loved for it. He was doted on more by Harwin than any other father and son you knew. Nor was he any less needed - from his first breath he was Larys Strong, second to his name and newest heir in line to inherit Harrenhal. 

But Harwin’s heart was set on a daughter. You barely had to tell Harwin the Maester’s said your body was properly recovered before he enthusiastically offered to try for another. You simply replied that the time spent with one child was to be cherished - and you planned to do just that. You were thankful when Harwin replied again in turn with kindness, saying he hadn’t considered it but understood what you meant. He said he’d wait until you were ready, and in the meantime threw himself headfirst into being little Larys’ father. 

It made your heart melt completely - and now it was going to happen all over again. Even if the news of another babe wasn’t enough to usurp an upcoming wedding, Harwin certainly acted like it was. The news couldn’t have spread across the Red Keep faster even if crows and rats carried the message to every nook and cranny - your husband wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret if he tried. 

But right now, at the forefront of everything in your mind, wasn’t the second child being carried within your womb - it was your Princess, Rhaenyra Targaryen, and the fact that the wedding to be held within the next few days was going to be hers. 

The princess had taken it upon herself to visit you daily, whenever she could spare the time, and you were grateful - you believed she needed a distraction, and she was one of the few women around your age in the whole city who you could stand (the other being Alicent, however you weren’t going to be telling either about your friendship with the other). She was also a good distraction to you from the coming and going sickness the child brought with it. 

“His little girl.” You said to Rhaenyra. “He’s so sure it’s going to be a daughter.” 

“If I remember correctly, he thought that last time too.” Rhaenyra said, “And what do you think?” She asked, leaning forward on an elbow with a childlike sparkle in her eyes. She was fond of children, or so you assumed from how she was around your son - and her half-siblings too when she got the rare chance. 

“I think it’s far too soon to tell.” you replied, a small smile on your face as you grasp your hand over your stomach. 

“Oh wouldn’t it be amusing though, the great ‘breakbones’ running around after a daughter.” She said, talking into a raised glass of wine. 

“There is a certain humor to it, sure.” You both caught eyes and smiled as she put down the cup she was drinking from. 

“You will still come to the dinner, won't you?” Rhaenyra asked, changing the subject skillfully, as her look changed from sly to hopeful. “I know we won’t get much time together, and I know how tired you get at the moment, but I just have to know I’ll see your face in the crowd.” Your lips twitched up, amused. 

“Is the heir to the iron throne asking me personally to go to her wedding feast?” 

“It will be good for strengthening ties.” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. 

“Going to a wedding feast?” 

“Indeed.” 

“Ah sorry Princess, but the only ties being strengthened there are those of both families getting married. However, my experience says a joyous party and a hearty meal is good for morale all around.” A new voice joined in at the open door. 

“Ser Harwin.” Rhaenyra said, turning in her seat with a smile to greet your husband. 

“And please be sure to provide peanuts,” Harwin continued as he dipped his head to the Princess and made his way to your side, “They seem to be the only thing this little one is letting her mother keep down.” 

“Harwin!” you hissed. 

“Shells and all, she likes how it crunches.” You smacked his arm - or the parts of it that weren’t still covered in metal armor - and he let out a half chuckle. “Alright, alright. I was only coming in to check you weren’t lonely, and it seems like the Princess is doing a fine job of that.” 

“Of course I am. I do a good job of everything.” 

“Indeed.” Harwin agreed, then turned to you. He kissed your forehead and cheek before pressing his thumb to your chin. “I’d better be on, I’ll be back soon to prepare for dinner.” He kissed your hand, a final farewell, before doing the same to Rhaenyra. “Princess.” He said. 

You saw how their eyes caught, and something about it sparked a thought inside you. The thought that there was a slight lingering of something going on between them both. You were not sure what. For some reason the fluttering in your heart had you breaking into a calm smile more than an anxious sweat. Some part of it was reassuring - even if any other woman might’ve thought otherwise. Perhaps it was how much you trusted Harwin, perhaps how much you liked Rhaenyra. 

You weren’t unfamiliar with the rumors behind a hasty wedding to her cousin Laenor (nor the rumors behind Laenor himself). You also weren’t unfamiliar with how stifling living in your fathers home could be - and he was a lord, let alone a king. You didn’t blame either of them for acting the way they did, to take bits of freedom when it wasn’t being given to them. You pitied Laenor, but Rhaenyra? If anyone asked you honestly, you’d day you mourned for her.

Rhaenyra and Laenor’s wedding feast, at the very least, was eventful. Far more so than your own - and for that you weren’t entirely envious. 

You arrived, paid your dues to the royal family along with those of House Strong who came - Harwin and his father and brother, along with his sisters, Pacey and Raechel, and a few more distant relations - and were seated - all without problems. Laenor and his family arrived, and were seated alongside Rhaenyra and Viserys - again, without problems. King Viserys began his speech without a hitch - however it didn’t finish in the same way. 

The moment you saw his eyes and voice catch and pause, you were searching for a reason why. When your eyes cast to the doors, you could see the reason clearly yourself. 

In another life, one where you were still young and foolish, all you would’ve seen would be Queen Alicent in a pretty green dress. But now being seasoned in Red Keep socialites and dramatics, you weren’t so young and foolish to not realize what it meant. 

“The king won’t be happy, right in the middle of his speech.” Harwin murmured, a hand resting on the one you had in the crook on his arm. Larys stood on his other side, leaning down on the table. House Strong prided itself on its courage, but there was something about the cunning the younger Strong brother had that you admired - it was one of the reasons why you agreed to Harwin naming your son after him, the thought that a smart mind might be passed down through name alone. Time would tell if that was the right choice or not. 

“The beacon on the high tower, do you know what color it glows when Oldtown calls its banners to war?” he asked quietly. 

“Green?” you whispered. When your eyes flickered off Alicent to Larys, he nodded - even if you weren’t so sure before you were now. Harwin’s hand squeezed your fingers, and as Alicent sat at the table ahead everything settled. Calm, normal once again. Tension raised off the air like a mist in Blackwater Bay. 

Until later. 

The feast had really begun, the dancing started, and as everyone got to the celebrations, you were beginning to feel sick. Not enough to warrant telling Harwin (he’d have you both leave in a heartbeat, you didn’t doubt that for a second), but enough that there was no way you were getting up to dance. 

“Harwin,” you said, and he leant in from where he had his arm around the back of your chair, ready to ask what was wrong, “Go get a dance with the Princess, congratulate her for us.” You finished with a pat to his chest, a dismissal and ‘get to it’ if there ever was one. He didn’t need further pushing. Some might chastise him for being so obedient to his wife, but you know he’d only say they were jealous. 

With Harwin gone, and the other seat beside you also unoccupied since Harwin’s sister, Raechel, had gone off to dance with a pretty young Lord, you slid over to occupy the seat beside Larys. 

“How are you feeling this evening, sister?” He asked, observant, and voice soft as ever despite the noise of the crowded room. 

“In all truth my stomach feels like it’s in knots.” you replied, sighing through a smile, “But I dare not leave. I do like being around everyone when they’re having such fun.” 

“I could walk you to your room, if you’d like?” he offered, and it made your smile widen. 

“No, please. There’s no need for that.” you replied, head turning so your eyes could filter about the room, “It’s not a sickly kind of knot. For some reason I’m feeling quite nervous. Besides, I can see how you enjoy people watching the same as I do, I wouldn’t want to take you away from it.” 

“Ah,” he said, hand playing with a cloth napkin on the table, “I see I haven’t been as careful about what I do in my spare time as I should’ve been.” 

“You know there’s nothing wrong with being able to see everything.” you said, turning to him with a wide smile, “Just make sure you don’t go around telling everyone what you see. Or worse, the wrong people.” His hand clenched around the cloth, before releasing. He smiled. 

“Clever as ever, my sister. Spoken with the wisdom of a mother.” 

Larys barely finished speaking when your attention was taken away. A shout, unlike others tonight, followed by more, along with a visible disruption to the dancing. Something was going on. It made the knots in your stomach tighten, the hair on your arms stand on end. Suddenly the air didn’t feel as clear as it did moments before. 

Between the influx of people moving away, and those moving in, you lost sight of the Princess and your husband - the latter of which was by then dancing with someone else. When you stood from your seat and finally caught sight of him in the crowd, his look told you to stay back out of trouble, to say your side of the dinner table. You stayed carefully watching him though, saw him hold a silent conversation with his father, then watched as he moved. With Rhaenyra nowhere in sight, and direction from the new Hand of the King, you didn’t doubt you knew what he was doing. 

It was nice to know that both you and your father-in-law had the belief that Harwin could rescue a Princess from a crowd of frightened and rowdy party-goers. 

If anything the prowess Harwin had in retrieving Rhaenyra filled you with an impressed sense of pride - ‘that was the man you married’. Before he was your husband, he was a knight, and honestly if you were a man like him you would’ve wanted to do the exact same thing in helping Rhaenyra. If not you, at least it was him. Hence you paid it no mind when he disappeared from the room with her over his shoulder. 

Once he was gone though, Rhaenyra safely out of trouble, your attention was drawn to something far less pleasing. 

On the floor beyond the table was a man. He wore house Velaryon’s colors, and had half his face beaten into the stone floor. The carnage of bone and muscle, and the blood seeping into the stone below was enough to make your usually strong stomach churn. It was as if half of him had melted into the floor. One of your hands moved over your bump, while the other held your fingertips over your lips - both in an effort to ease the nausea growing in your throat, in hopes to not throw up everywhere. 

“Larys, I believe I can take you up on a nice slow walk back to my room now.” You whispered. He heard you, because of course he already could see how visibly sick you looked now, and quickly reached for his cane. 

“Of course.” he said, letting you rest a hand on his arm as you both turned away to join those leaving. He only spoke again after you reached the quieter halls of the Keep. “Will you be alright?” 

“I believe so, it’s just been quite a day.” you said, looking down at your skirts as they slowly swished across your legs as you walked. It was a simple thing really, the way it moved, but as far as a distraction went it was as good as any. “I’ve seen worse things in my life and yet I’ve found myself quite shaken. It seems that as the babe grows in size, my strength leaves me, both physically and emotionally.” 

“As long as you both end up healthy in the end, it doesn’t matter so much how you feel now.” he said after a few steps. You nodded as you swayed a little. “Your constitution will return.”

“I suppose so.” you agreed, “Though still it would be nice if it weren’t so much trouble right now.” 

“All paths in life have troubles sister, whether you chose to be a mother or silent sister. We just need to make sure paths we have no control over do not become too much trouble.” Larys said as you both slowed as your room door approached. “And if they do, surround ourselves with people to help keep them in line.” 

“I’d be happy enough just to have someone help walk the path with me.” 

As you both said goodnight, his words stuck with you. You always found his words needed to be thought about more than most - apparently his half sister Alys was quite the same, worse even, although you’d yet to meet her yourself. 

Suni came to your room briefly to help you get ready for bed, but conversation didn’t come to you that night. No doubt word spread about what happened at dinner, she’d have known you’d seen it surely, and you hoped that was a good enough excuse to not be in the mood to talk. 

She had gone, you’d tucked yourself into bed, and a few bare candles were all that was left alight when Harwin finally joined you in your bedchambers. He was quiet too as he got ready for bed, only sparing glances at you as you watched him through the dark. Only after he was under the covers and sat back against the headboard beside you did he speak. 

“The Princess and Laenor have been wed.” he said. His words, spoken like a hushed whisper, had you sitting bolt upright from where you once laid. 

“What?” 

“King Viserys ordered they be married immediately.” Harwin said, taking your hand as if to coax you back, but you didn’t move. “I cannot admit to understanding why.” 

“Why? I can tell you why,” you said, whispering loudly into the dark, “The rumors around Rhaenyra, and then what has happened tonight are founded on acts of love. Love that is seen as improper, misbehavior. To reign it all in and prevent more reputational damages, both the Princess and her now husband have had to be placed into boxes.” 

You huffed, shuffling back into a place at Harwin’s side under his waiting arm. You reached to the hand that laid across your shoulder and toyed with his fingers, venting your frustration with fidgeting, then he spoke. 

“More like coffins.” Harwin mumbled into your hair. “Can’t help but feel sorry for them. For loving who they wish, in return they get paid a place in the world where neither will find real love.” 

Harwin’s words made you frown. It wasn’t fair - you knew life rarely was. But if the Old and New God’s were kind enough to give you a husband like Harwin, why would they deny Rhaenyra that happiness too? Deny her the chance to be loved? It wasn’t right. It was cruel. Both to her and Laenor. They would struggle through their marriage - Laenor likely finding love elsewhere, and where would that leave Rhaenyra? Alone, and loveless. You wished you could help her. You wished you knew someone who could help her. 

Then, like a flash of lightning, you had what could very well be the worst idea of your entire life. 

“What’s wrong? I can feel you thinking.” Harwin said, “Stressing even. Stress is no good for the daughter you’re guarding.” He shifted beneath you, leaning more on his elbow as his other palm came to rest on your stomach. 

“How sorry do you feel for them?” you asked suddenly. Through the darkness you could see his brows frown. 

“What do you mean?” 

“If you could help them, would you?” you repeated, softer, almost as if you weren’t speaking at all. His eyes studied your face carefully, as if trying to read the lines on your face to gauge what you were leaving unsaid. 

“Rhaenyra is the Princess.” Harwin started, “A dear friend of yours too, which makes her mine - I have to admit to still feeling like I have a duty to the vow I took when entering knighthood. That I must do all in my power to keep her happy, even if now her happiness is second to yours.” 

His words trailed off into silence, for a moment all you could hear was your breathing and the fire crackle in its hearth across the room. You decided then at the very least to be honest with Harwin - to voice your idea, as mad as it sounded. 

“I need to be honest with you, just for a moment, while it’s just us here alone together. Free of judgement.” you said. Harwin’s reply was virtually instant. 

“Of course.” 

“Do you love me?” His reply to that came even faster than the first. 

“I love you.” Harwin said, holding your head in his hands, almost sounding worried. “More than anything.” 

“If I asked you to lie with her to keep her happy, would you do it?” you asked. Then the silence was loud. A pin could drop outside in the hall and you could’ve heard it. “As a favor.” Even with your addition, Harwin stayed quiet. If you didn’t know him better, you’d say he was too quiet. 

But you knew him better than that. Harwin, despite his reputation as the more brutal of him and his brother, was a good thinker. Yes he acted in the heat of the moment on occasion, sometimes for the worst, but when given the chance? If his blood wasn’t pushed to pumping? Level headed, considerate, and wise - that was what you’d come to know Harwin Strong as. It's what made him such a good father. 

You could see it in his eyes, him thinking. Weighing the options, listing pros and cons. Considering that this wasn’t simply being asked to whore himself out to Rhaenyra for the sake of it - this was you requesting him to do a favor for your friend. 

“In another life, perhaps I might’ve done so anyway.” Harwin finally mused. His hands still held your head, and he never once broke away from looking at you. He was so intense sometimes, now was no exception. He was speaking of Rhaenyra, but it was like he wasn’t even thinking of her at all. “But in this life, it will be as a favor to you. Nothing more.” 

tagging: @potionpeddlerpatchy | @pockcock

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY INTERVIEWED FOR DEADLINE MAGAZINE.

IS THAT YOU LYING IN BED IN EPISODE 5, GETTING THE BURNT VALYRIAN STEEL PEELED OFF OF YOUR BODY?

"It certainly is me."

I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD. SO YOU'RE NOT DEAD YET?

"I say a word … unless dead people can speak."

SO YOU ARE SURE AS YOU'RE SITTING HERE, YOU ARE NOT DEAD.

"I’m not dead yet."

LET'S BACK UP TO THE DAY WHEN YOU SHOT THAT EPIC DRAGON FIGHT.

"Well, that day was, in fact, probably about three weeks work, trying to get all these certain angles and these set pieces together."

"It takes a while to coordinate something like that."

"And it was great fun."

"It was a little different."

"The stuff I had to do previously with the big dialogue, the heavy council scenes and the moments in the pub … that felt more theatrical."

"And by theatrical, I don’t mean hammy and stuff, I mean being in theater and doing a play."

"But this [dragon fight] felt very filmic, being strapped into this crane and having this big camera on a long hydraulic arm thrown in your face."

"There were lots of green screens and gray screens and tennis balls on sticks and wind machines."

"It was great."

"It was a big learning curve for me as well, because I’ve never done anything quite as elaborate as that before in terms of CGI work."

DO YOU THINK CRISTON SAW WHAT AEMOND DID TO AEGON'S DRAGON IN THAT FIGHT? THAG AEMOND IS TO BLAME?

"Criston definitely sees Aegon on the ground and Aemond near him with his sword drawn."

"So he can make his own mind up about Aemond’s intentions, which is still unclear even to me."

"I’m not sure the story was there."

"There could be various outcomes."

WHAT HAS IT BEEN LIKE TO PLAY SOMEBODY WHO'S SO BLOODY UNLIKABLE?

"So you’re not team Aegon, then?"

"Who wants to be liked?"

"Where’s the fun in that?"

"I think it’s great playing someone like Aegon because he’s so unpredictable."

"He’s so volatile."

"He’s not just someone who people don’t like."

"He’s a tragic case."

"He’s a complete and utter tragedy of a person, and I feel deeply, deeply sorry for him."

"And I guess that’s kind of why I’ve wanted to investigate his vulnerabilities, his fragilities and his boyishness, all the things that he lacks in his life that kind of inform his decisions, that have given him a certain reputation."

"There’s a lot to unpack in him."

"He’s way more layered and complex than just an unlikable character."

IT'S BEEN AN INTERESTING JOURNEY WATCHING AEGON AND AEMOND BECAUSE THEY'RE OBVIOUSLY BAD KIDS, WHICH DOESN'T MAKE SENSE BECAUSE IT'S NOT LIKE THEIR DAD WAS AN AWFUL GUY. SO WHERE DOES THAT BADNESS COME FROM?

"I dunno."

"I mean, they’ve got Targaryen blood running through them, so there’s going to be an element of madness somewhere."

"I think if they had a different upbringing and a different experience of childhood, things may have been different."

"If they had the treatment that Rhaenyra got, for example, their lives could be different."

"She was very much the golden child."

"She came first."

"She was the one whose picture was on the fridge."

"So yeah, I think that in many ways they’re a product of their history and their upbringing."

"But then again, they’re spoiled as well."

"They’ve never had to work for anything and that can have its effects."

"That’s probably a question for a psychologist, not for me."

WHY DOES HE DISLIKE HIS BROTHER SO MUCH?

"I don’t think he does."

BUT HE WAS SUCH A SHIT TO HIM IN THAT BROTHEL SCENE.

"That’s brothers."

"Aegon was pissed off that for weeks that Aemond has been in the small council and he’d been conniving and plotting with Criston behind his back."

"That kind of clique-ness and keeping Aegon out of the situation for Aemond’s own self-gain, knowing that Aegon would take over the position of King should he get the opportunity, Aegon needed to bring him down a peg."

"I don’t think it come from a place of disliking him."

It comes from a place of being like, ‘you are my little brother, know your place.’

"It’s dismissiveness and also, I’m from Manchester."

"From where I’m from, there are so many sibling relationships that are completely flawed and fractured."

"It’s very normal for me."

"I’m lucky I have a great relationship with my sibling, but it’s very normal and not out of the ordinary at all for you to see two siblings who actively want to hurt each other."

"It doesn’t come from hatred."

"That’s just the way people behave."

[missglaskin]

Yandere (HOTD) Targaryen/Velaryon/Hightower family (together) HCS part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Note: Finally part 3 is here! Also, this probably is some of the longest hcs I have done. This starts from episode 3 to episode 7. Mainly platonic, but there could be a romantic pairing. Also, the reader is basically trying to keep everything from going to shit

The conflict between Alicent and Rhaenyra has persisted over the years. And you tend to find yourself directly in the heart of the fights. However with Viserys there; he’s made sure that you diverge away from their disputes. He has long accepted that his wife and daughter will never get along, but what they will not do is involve you in their conflicts. 

Many children have been born throughout the years, and the two women made sure you were there for each. They secretly want you to prefer one over the other. Although you lack a dragon, Alicent and Rhaenyra made their children believe you are related to them by blood.

Similar to their mother, Jace and Luke are a bit possessive. While they can be a bit mischievous, the two typically listen to you, even more than their mother. Their faces light up when they see you and they run right up to greet you. Also, they like it when you watch them spar, asking whether they did well, grinning back when you tell them they did. While you have noticed how different the boys are, you chose not to say anything, even when Alicent argued with Viserys regarding it. 

At least for the time being, Luke is the youngest of the bunch. He takes full advantage of it when the other kids are fighting for your attention. Such as pretending to be hurt so you can comfort him. It is well known that he follows you around the court and becomes agitated when you focus on someone else.

Like Criston, there’s a very similar chance that Harwin also begins to have tendencies for you. His fondness for you doesn’t go unnoticed by the court. He trusts you well enough that he isn't afraid to show affection towards Jace, Luke, and Rhaenyra. Harwin feels so strongly about you that even the smallest remark about you will prompt him to intervene. 

Since they've likely spent the most time with you, Jace and Luke are the most jealous of Aegon and Helaena. Aegon and Helaena are also very attached to you. Aegon is frequently pressured by his family to fill in a role he doesn’t want. He appreciates having someone who is gentle and doesn't push him as the others do. Helaena, on the other hand, is attached to you because you're the only person who doesn't think of her as strange or give her odd looks; instead, you sit with her and listen to her go on about all the kinds of insects she has. 

Aemond is a completely different case. You're used to possessiveness, but Aemond is almost always by your side. Being the second son, he is frequently overlooked or passed over in favor of his brother, never mind the fact that he is still without a dragon. Because of all the love and attention, you show Aemond, he grows quickly fond of you. Including his siblings, he is jealous of everyone. The fact that Alicent also forces particular ideas into Aemond's mind is not helpful. 

Aside from Helaena- in contrast to his two brothers, Dareon is also the most pleasant. Throughout the years, he has always been gentle and sweet and has often given you the prettiest flowers as they remind him of you. Dareon had to eventually depart from King's Landing in order to go to Oldtown and serve as Lord Omund Hightower's squire. Before leaving, he embraced you and made you swear you would exchange ravens, no matter what. 

You occasionally also spent time in Driftmark with Rhaenys and Corlys. Rhaenys makes you ride her dragon back and forth, as it is the fastest way to travel. There are times when you run into Daemon and Laena, and they are thrilled to see you. Likewise, Baela and Rhaena become very excited whenever they get to meet you.

Similar to the other kids, the two girls adore spending time with you. They find themselves missing you when they have to travel with their parents. Rhaena sometimes feels left out compared to her sister and enjoys any attention you give her. Baela, on the other hand, is more demanding and jealous than her sister. She often reminds you of Daemon. 

Speaking of Velaryons, Laenor is content to reside in King's landing, even though he longs to return home and engage in battles. Your presence there is one of the few pleasant things he anticipates. Laenor, unlike the others, enjoys sparring with you and will gladly teach you how to fend for yourself. It's one of his favorite ways to spend time with you. 

Rhaenyra has objected to the idea a few times, but when you beg her to reconsider, she eventually gives in. She has Harwin watch and Laenor promises that only wooden swords will be used. Alicent and Criston, on the other hand, are horrified at the thought of you wielding a sword even if it’s wooden, and possibly hurting yourself. 

Criston develops a rivalry with Harwin regarding you. And it's possible that Criston already dislikes Harwin as a result of jealousy or a bruised ego.  Criston is supposed to be your sworn protector, not him. He will not only support Alicent's animosity toward Rhaenyra, but also ensure that some of Alicent's animosity is directed at Harwin.

Viserys occupies most of his time with you as he gets older and his health deteriorates. While he prefers Rhaenyra to his children with Alicent, it gradually becomes clear that he favors you even more. Viserys always relies on you for solace, and you never fail to reassure him. He feels comfortable sharing his shame and suffering with you, particularly regarding Aemma.

As Rhaenyra gives birth to Joffrey, you and Laenor wait outside. Only to be confused when you see Rhaenyra carrying Joffrey already walking and ascending the stairs. Apparently, the queen wants to see the baby right away. You insist she rests while you bring the child to the queen, but she refuses. There is a glimmer of hope in Rhaenyra that this will help you realize just how cruel Alicent is in this whole situation.

Your focus is now on Joffrey in light of everything that is happening. You are the one holding him the most, along with Rhaenyra. Luke, who is accustomed to receiving the majority of your attention, is a little jealous of his baby brother. As Harwin requests to see Joffrey, you place the child in his arms. While rocking the baby; he grins, saying you’d be a great aunt to the boy. 

Since you lack a dragon, the kids quarrel over which one you should ride. Jace argues you should ride his dragon, but Aegon counters that since his is larger, it’ll be better. Aemond says nothing during the entire conversation. 

When the boys offer to give Aemond a pig for him to ‘ride’, Aemond immediately goes to you; telling you what they did as you console him. You confront the boys to scold them on the matter and Aemond can be seen almost smiling in the background. 

At Pentos, Laena wants to leave, but Daemon is adamant about staying. The truth is that Laena misses her home, her family, and occasionally, even you. And to make matters worse, Laena is worried about the hightowers, and she can tell that her husband feels the same way. Besides, her daughters also miss you. 

As stated, you frequently watch the boys spar, and they all like to show off. Viserys occasionally join you and express his desire for the boys to bond through sparring. However, an unfortunate event occurs when Harwin lunges at Criston. As Harwin is pulled back by four men and forced to leave, Criston feels victorious; this will make you see Harwin as the man he is.

Before departing, Harwin bids you and the children farewell. He promises to come to see you someday and exchange ravens with you. Harwin advises you to take care of the boys and your "sister". You're not aware that this is the last time you'll see him.

Like her father, Rhaenyra attempts to keep you in her vicinity as much as possible during that time. The rumors surrounding the court become too much, and she feels as though her friendship with Alicent will never be repaired. Laenor is also preoccupied with drinking at the moment. This all just makes her feel more isolated than ever. She desires to depart for Dragonstone and wishes for you to accompany her.

As you might expect, Alicent declines and assumes you'll stay in King's Landing. But Alicent is taken aback when you ask to accompany Rhaenyra. This was brought on by guilt—the guilt you felt for siding with Alicent more than Rhaenyra, and the guilt you felt for not being a good sister to her. Otherwise, she wouldn't feel so alone. Even when Alicent is pleading otherwise, Viserys allows you to travel with Rhaenyra for a time. 

You are greeted at Dragonstone with the most heartbreaking news: Harwin and Leana are dead. Knowing how much she cared for him, you take a moment to console Rhaenyra. Jace comes to you for consolation as well, and you let him grieve. Luke is still too young to recognize Harwin was his father, but he claims to miss him and exhibits sadness over his passing. When you finally get to Laenor to comfort him over the loss of his sister, you don't hold any of his tears against him.

When you attend Laena’s funeral, there seem to be only a few who are truly grieving. While you’re used to everyone’s eyes on you, this time it feels unsettling. Baela and Rhaena are the ones you approach first, and you take them both in your arms. Later, Rhaenys joins, and the two of you share a hug and a private moment. Then you find yourself walking up to Corlys, who is speaking to Jace. The instant Corlys notices you, he immediately stands up and embraces you, too. Jace is gently nudged by you to go comfort the girls.

Your eyes meet Daemon's, but Otto stops you as you try to reach him. Otto hugs you while expressing his regret for what happened; all in front of Daemon. You both can see the anger on Daemon's face as he walks to you. Otto is pulled aside, and the two of them have a brief conversation; you can tell from the look on Otto's face that Daemon said something demeaning. 

Aegon seems to prefer being anywhere else than here. He is standing near you most of the time and will occasionally take a cup whenever a servant passes by carrying a tray. Helaena chooses to entertain herself by catching a spider. She shows it to you, and despite your sorrow, you smile at her. You are aware of Criston and Alicent watching you the entire, and wonder why Criston seems content. 

Later at night, you are summoned to the room because of an incident involving the children. Luke, Jace, Baela, and Rhaena come running to you the moment you enter the room. As Luke's face is the most battered, your attention is drawn to him. But when you see Aemond on the chair, you are horrified. Aemond then turns to fully face you, wanting you to see what they did to him. 

Nearly in tears, Alicent demands justice. When Viserys refuses, she is left with no other option. Alicent grabs the king’s blade and heads to the children. She is stunned to witness you quickly running to put your body between her and Luke. More so, the look on your face when she cuts Rhaenyra. It was a look of fear. She could still hear Rhaenyra's words, "Now they see you for what you're."

Aemond breaks the silence by telling his mother not to mourn over him, and that this is a fair trade. He leans on his mother, but she is perplexed when he abruptly leaves her side to approach Rhaenyra and those nearby. 

They realize you are what he is actually heading toward, not Rhaenyra. You still have Luke in one arm when he approaches you, and Aemond rests his head against your shoulder. You reluctantly embrace him while everyone looks on. With his good eye, Aemond turns to Luke, glaring ferociously. No one notices.

You then remain by Rhaenyra's side as the maester sews her arm. In another room, Alicent is distressed. She tells her father about the looks you gave her that night and how she might have lost your favor. How she must have frightened you. But she is reassured by Otto that this is untrue; you embracing Aemond that night proved there’s still a chance of you being on their side. You’re fond of the children, and Otto will use that to his every advantage. 

At night time, you're taken aback when Laenor wakes you. He apologizes for being absent when the incident happened and for failing to offer you comfort when you needed it, as he was too preoccupied with his grief. Strangely, though, Laenor bids you farewell and mentions how much he values having you in his life. 

In the early morning, you’re in Rhaenys’ chamber consoling her for the loss of her son. Viserys had intended to take you with him to King's landing, but after seeing how Rhaenys became childless in a span of days, Viserys let you stay to aid Rhaenys in her grief. 

You soon serve as one of the witnesses at Rhaenyra and Daemon's marriage. You are surrounded by the children, who are all in your immediate vicinity. You knew the marriage was not done out of love, but to prepare for something, and for that, you have begun to dread the future.

---

Taglist: @westernbaby @elsyyie @athelleen

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Twenty-Eight

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: From here on out, the story deviates from the HOTD timeline. Viserys didn't die the night of the dinner, and Rhaenyra never came on dragonback like she said she would. The next few chapters take place during months leading up to Viserys' death in the winter, and they'll be a wild ride, so buckle up, besties!

Chapter Warnings: white knight Arryk, toxic relationship, we're both mentally ill.

The countless drinks of wine swirled through your head, your body exhausted from the whirlwind of events from the day prior, but you couldn't turn your mind off. Everything felt different. An air of heaviness settled over your bones, disconnecting you from the world.

The Keep, its massive walls ever-encompassing, closed you inside its pale redstone, making it incapable of finding peace in the hours of the ghost. The blankets of your bed were too heavy, thick, and suffocating as your lungs struggled to breathe. It felt as if you were not in your body, your spirit torn away from its core, crushed by the future that loomed over you.

You couldn't stand another moment locked inside this castle, haunted by things you have done and things that have yet to be. Throwing the covers off your dampened limbs, you padded over to your winter boots, shoving your bare feet into the tight fur and throwing a cloak on. You needed air. You needed to be outside, to feel the realm between your toes and ground yourself within it.

Ser Arryk stood steadfast at your door as you swung it open, causing the knight to jump. After your heated argument, you still hadn't spoken more than brief sentences with the White Cloak. He remained dutiful throughout the limbo, a sworn protector no matter the circumstances. You were terrible towards him, a man who was loyal no matter the mistreatment he faced. Arryk did not deserve it.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you stood before the knight, your gaze downcast. "Ser Cargyll. I..." You started, the words becoming trapped in your throat like you were trapped within your heavy blankets. "I apologize for my behavior this past fortnight. You are a good and honorable man, and," your voice faltered again, looking up into the pools of sapphire that stared down at you. "And I extend my deepest, most profound apology for my actions. You do not deserve my ire."

"Princess, you needn't apologize. 'Tis my duty to serve Your Grace without fault."

"No, Ser," you quickly interrupted, stopping any further words from escaping his mouth with the grab of his bicep. "Do not deflect my apology with your honor. You are entitled to be angry. You are entitled to make me feel the way I made you."

"My Lady," Arryk spoke, his gaze serious as he stared into yours. "I shall deal with all your wrath with a stiff lip for I know you are a true person. You have never forgotten your roots, the people who made you. Your kindness for those around you is more admirable than anything I could do within my life."

Before he could continue, your body flushed with his, your warm cheek cooling against the metal of his breastplate. "Cease this. You are everything and more. Even when I have been such an imbecile you continue to hold me above you." You released him from your hold, hands sliding to his forearms instead. "We are equaled despite what statuses have been put upon us."

Ser Arryk was at a loss. His mouth parted in shock as he processed your words. "I meant what I said all those moons ago. You are my friend, my ally, and I wish for you to be by my side," the knight sucked in a breath, his digits gripping your elbows as he took a step closer, "as my protector for as long as you will have me."

Arryk felt himself deflate, though not enough for you to notice, ignoring whatever feeling of hope for the future he had with a nod of his helmeted head.

It wasn't very reasonable of him to have hope you would love him the way he does you. You were a princess, meant to wed Lords and high-ranking knights who could provide lands and gold.

Arryk supposed it was better this way, even if it felt like a blow to the chest. What would the future look like for the two of you? He couldn't very well go into hiding. That was dishonorable. He couldn't expect you to leave your comfortable status to live in a village in the Riverlands. If you were found, Arryk would be charged with treason against the King and his family and sentenced to death, recalling the last time someone attempted to whisk you away for love.

Ser Cargyll's affections for you would never be. Forever tucked away close to his heart in secret, no matter how much it pained him.

His movements were rigid and strained under the weight of his armor and something else he refused to name as he kneeled.

"I swear to ward you, Princess," the knight declared, unsheathing his sword with upturned palms, placing it in yours, "with all my strength, and give my blood for yours. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall guard your secrets, obey your commands, ride at your side, and defend your name and honor. I shall always do more than what is expected, never less. I shall never flinch at any task or hardship."

Arryk inhaled a staggering breath, his gaze unwavering and voice firm. "I shall be loyal and serve you from this breath until my last, Princess."

The sword was heavy within your grip, the kingsguardmen's words burning into the metal. You had never experienced such devotion before, his oath etching into your heart and soul. Your limbs knew what to do before your mind as you brought the longsword to Ser Arryk's shoulders.

"From this day until your death, I accept your fealty and service." The blade's tip scratched on the stone floor as you lowered it, and the chestnut-haired man before you bowed his head. "Rise, Ser Arryk Cargyll, and serve your Princess."

He obeyed your command, reaching his full height as a smile graced your lips. Returning the weapon, your sworn shield's fist wrapped around your own, his touch calloused and relaxed before you slipped it away.

"I know what the future holds is unsure, but I am certain with you by my side, Ser Cargyll, we can brave it together." You stood on the balls of your feet, your hands wrapping around the back of Arryk's head as you placed a chaste kiss on his helmet.

The deed was done, and though you felt light, the world still called you, vibrating through the soles of your fur boots and into your chest.

"My first command of you, Ser, is to rest. You have served me well all this time and deserve the rest of the night to yourself." His eyes flickered from your head to your toes, examining your attire and what you were planning. "I can hear your questions," you jested teasingly. "I'm going to the Godswood, my protector. The Gods will watch over me.

Arryk returned the smile, though not as bright, bowing before he bid you goodnight and readied to his quarters. You were surprised that he did not protest as usual, never ceasing in his endless allegiance but keeping it hidden from his view as you both departed.

***

Beneath the Weirwood, the crimson leaves whispered above. You found peace, connected with one and nature. The late winter breeze chilled your feet as you leaned against the blanched trunk, your boots discarded next to you neatly. Even though you were still within the castle's parameters, the world felt vast. Stars shimmered endlessly in the midnight sky, the clouds minimal as you stared at the waning crescent.

It would be spring in a moon's time, the air cool instead of biting, buds sprouting, and insects emerging. Helaena loved the season for that very reason. She doesn't do well cooped inside, tucked away from what she enjoys most. The Princess had her children, and one could argue that should be enough for a mother, but those who say such things do not understand the complexity of a woman's heart-- a woman's desire to be human.

The grass was comforting between your toes despite the lifelessness of it poking at your skin. This was what you needed. Just a moment alone. A moment to think without the crushing weight of the unknown squeezing at your lungs.

"I'm sorry."

The words caused you to jump, your serenity forgotten as your hand immediately slid to your ankle, only to find your dagger long discarded for sleep.

"I'm sorry for what I did, for what I did to your kin," the drunk Prince spoke, a jug of only one thing looped around his finger. "They were only trying to protect you. I would have done the same thing if someone tried to take you away from me. I would burn villages to keep you with me."

"What were their names?" you countered, stopping Aegon from wherever this drunken ramble was going. He gaped at you, confused, his eyes like amethyst sparkling in the night. "You don't even know who you're apologizing for." You turned away with a sneer and rose to your feet before you were shoved down with desperate, grabbing hands.

"Please, I beg of you, my love," Aegon sniveled on his knees as his gaze became glass, the jug of alcohol forgotten. "Cease this torment!"

"Torment?" you scoffed, tilting your face to the sky. "You believe you are being tormented? You? The man who sent my mother's only surviving family to the executioners block?" Your laugh was cold, devoid of the usual warmth it rang with as you spoke. "You know nothing of torment."

"I did not know what would happen to them. I-I only wanted you to stay with me!" Tears flowed freely down the Prince's cheeks, the streaks shining in the moonlight.

"You did not know that the attempted kidnapping of a royal person would be punishable by death?" Rolling your eyes, you stood, Aegon wrapping himself around your ankles. "You are a craven as well as a liar."

"No. Please. Please, don't call me that," he begged, his voice reedy.

You ignored the aching feeling in your heart at his hunched form, looking everywhere but. Kicking your legs from his grip, you stormed away with a growl, done with whatever he had to say. No words Aegon could speak would change the past. Nothing could bring Lyra and Sara back.

"No! Please, come back to me!" the Prince cried, his voice raw as his hands and knees dug into the dead blades of grass.

"I love you!"

The confession stopped you in your tracks, knees becoming weak and eyes hot. You couldn't think, suddenly, the Godswood not feeling as free.

Aegon observed how you stood, shoulders hunched and tight as your breathing became ragged, ingraining every detail and burning it into his mind forever.

"I love you," he repeated, his voice still hoarse but less desperate as he crawled closer. "I love you."

Your nose began to itch, lashes fluttering as words escaped you. Your body refused to turn and face the Prince. It was as if your heart had been torn from your chest, your bosom ripped open, and your ribs dripping with the viscous liquid of your blood, saturating the dirt below. You felt Aegon before you saw him, finding his place once more at your feet as he wrapped his arms around your legs, burying his tear-stained face into your cloak.

It was instinctual as your hand gravitated towards his head, gently stroking the frizzy, silver waves. You were uncertain when you, too, began to cry, fat droplets of saltwater running down your cheeks and onto his crown.

"I-I-I can't-" you stuttered, unable to form words that matched the race of your thoughts.

"I love you," he murmured into your thigh, rubbing his wet nose into the woolen fabric.

"You... love me?" The words sounded foreign on your tongue. "You love... me?"

"Yes!" Aegon panted, his gaze earnest and piercing yours. "You are the blood in my veins. The very marrow in my body. I love the bones of you."

"You..." His hands traveled upwards, his digits digging into the plush flesh of your waist.

"I crave your mouth, your voice, your touch. Your breath nourishes me, feeds me, keeps my stomach full."

Your lips trembled, vision becoming blurred as you sank to the ground. He loved you? Aegon loved you? How could you have been so ignorant? He did what he believed to be the right choice in keeping you by his side. Is that different from what Lyra did? It was why she chose to sneak into the most heavily guarded castle in Westeros. Because she loved you, Aegon would have done the same if the Gods had flipped the coin. You understand that now. He did not knowingly and maliciously murder your kin. He hurt you because he loved you.

"I know what they say about me, that I'm a monster. But you will be my salvation. You will make me repent for my sins," Aegon confessed as he stood to his knees, a child desperately clinging to its mother. 

Your hands cupped his cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears that leaked from his amethyst eyes. You knew in your heart that you could never forgive him for what his actions caused, and he understood, but had you not done the same, killed two men for simply following orders? You ripped them away from their families in such a gruesome way and defiled their deceased bodies in a manner that would send you to the Seven Hells.

You both committed vile actions and did awful things, yet there was love in them. Love for you. Love for Aegon. You both would burn for your sins but accept the punishment with your chin high and your hand in his. Fire and blood, even in death. 

Your stare flickered to his lips briefly before they were on yours, sharing a raw kiss of viscera. Tears and pain collided, moons of want and denial pouring into each other's mouths as your tongues danced to a melody of soft moans and grunts. His fingers tangled into your hair, gripping the roots roughly and causing your head to tilt with a gasp.

Your nose slotted against Aegon's, catching your breath, his body warming your skin. "I am the blood in your veins as you are mine," you sighed against him.

Pulling back, you brushed the stray strands of white from his face, tracing the structure as your digits gripped his jaw, having no desire to be without him, and devoured his lips in another demanding kiss. The Heart Tree hid your shadows; its pale bark and rustling leaves provided cover from all eyes except the Gods'. You could feel their stares, the whispers from above, though you could not register them over the sounds of bated breath, the shimmy of fabric as your cloak was strewn open.

Aegon's kisses soon became lower, creating splotches of cold to bloom in the brisk midnight air. They traveled to your jaw, neck, and clavicle, his hands not staying in one place long as you blindly unlaced the front of his soiled undershirt. The Prince shivered at the gentle touch of your fingertips against his hot flesh, voracious in their actions and seeking anything they could find.

A knot formed in your stomach, frayed threads of emotions tangled into a ball until they became one thing.

Lust.

The desire for Aegon, to touch, to feel his heartbeat inside you, to hear his idolatry as you become one. Nothing could stop you from taking what was yours, what you denied and hid from since the moment you were sent away.

You brought his hand to your chest, your nipples taught through the thin fabric of your nightdress. It couldn't wait. You couldn't stay as Aegon kneaded your flesh like dough, the skin molding perfectly under his fingers as you released a demure whine that caused you to flush with shame. His mouth soon found the other and latched onto the covered mound, laving it with his tongue and soaking through the fabric.

Your legs rubbed together at the sensation, squeezing the little nub at the apex of your thighs until pleasure bloomed and your mind became fuzzy.

"I want to be by your side always," Aegon mumbled against your breast, your nails scratching his scalp. "I want to suffocate you with my devotion."

You bobbed at his words, yet he couldn't see, using his weight to push you against the prickly grass. "Say it," the Prince commanded, his voice more firm than you had ever heard as he straddled your waist. He need not say what he meant. You already knew.

His fingers came to wrap around the column of your throat as your mind swirled, not squeezing, simply resting there in a necklace of implied dominance. "Fucking say it."

"I love you," you declared, your hand pressing into his to apply more force, conveying more than words ever could as his eyes dilated in the night. "I love you, my sweet boy. I have loved you longer than allowed, and I will not waste another moment of my time denying it any longer." Your voice came out breathlessly as his grip left your neck, deft fists unbuttoning your nightgown.

Aegon's hips twitched against you, a noiseless whimper spewing past his pouted lips as he revealed the intimate crevice between your breasts. He slotted himself between your legs as he pulled down the upper part of your garments, your skin pricking at the rush of cold winter air. He came to your breasts again, squeezing and pinching one while he suckled the other, your legs cinching around him. His cock was hard against your womanhood, languidly rubbing the covered member over your pulsing mound to relieve some of the ache. 

Aegon wanted to savor this feeling, the warmth of your clothed cunny against him, before he stretched it to fit his needs. He could sense your impatience, the avidity radiating off of you with each moan, but he did not care. The Prince was right where he wanted to be and had no intention of leaving. You would stay like this for hours for all he cared, reduced to a whining and wanting puddle of desire before him.

All the whores and drinks were naught compared to the intoxicating flavor of your skin, the harmonious song of your whimpers, and the unpracticed choreography of your movements. Aegon would gladly rid himself of all vices to have a taste of your slick again.

His fingers bunched the hem of your dress, slowly pulling it until it rested on your stomach. He was unsurprised as his digits traced over your lips, gliding smoothly over the flesh, dragging them up your torso until they reached your open mouth.

"Taste it, my love. Taste what my mere touch does to you." You obeyed Aegon's demand without a second thought, wrapping your tongue around his glistening tips. "You will be mine tonight and forever. We will never part from this day forward. Any man who seeks to strip us of this love will be met with dragon fire."

You whimpered, your brows pinching together as your heels dug into his lower back, pressing him impossibly closer. Aegon pulled from your mouth, his damped fingers directing your lips to his as he drank your combined essence.

He returned his hand to its rightful place, dragging it through your folds to create languid circles around your pearl. It was too much but not enough. The pressure was feather-light over the thin hood and heightened your senses as your hips twitched against his fist. Aegon chuckled nasally on your countenance, a proud grin stretching his mouth as his free hand came to your hair, pulling away.

"You shall deny me no more. I will take your maidenhead and ruin you for any man." Aegon's smile grew wider at your accepting gaze, welcoming him into your heart and body without the reservation he had grown accustomed to. His cock flushed with blood, further tenting his trousers.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" You nodded your head aggressively, feeling his fingers slide from your nub down to your slit.

"I want no one other than you," your voice panted, a moan punching further words from your lungs as two digits entered you.

You had grown tighter from the lack of use, the stretch of his fingers catching you unaware and biting back a wince as you adjusted. Aegon's face contorted in satisfaction like he was the one being pleasured as he explored your walls. It had been some time since they welcomed him in, if they truly ever did, and he needed to ingrain the structure to memory once more. Feeling the rigid patch at the top, he barely brushed over it, deciding to pull his fingers out to the first knuckle, scissoring the thin veil of skin.

Your cunt would forever be his home, a place for him to forget duty and responsibility and just be. Aegon did not worry about the future or the past with you. He existed—a body in the vast world around him, not a Prince or an heir, simply yours.

Hips bucking against his teasing fingers, he finally pushed them in, a purposeful air to his movements as Aegon stroked the spot that made you keen. The knot in your belly began to loosen, his ministrations pulling the thread that would unwind the tangled mess.

You couldn't control your breathing, the way your lungs inhaled and exhaled rapidly, eyes shut. If Aegon continued on this course, you would peak at such an intensity that you feared you would faint. Yet you didn't stop him, instead moaning and whining soft mummers of his name as your thighs trembled.

The Prince's hand came back to your neglected breasts, his thumb and forefinger pinching at an erect bud as your back arched in pleasure.

It had been so long since you let yourself feel anything other than melancholy. You accepted that life would be filled with sorrow and anger, burden and responsibility. Joy was meant for others, not you, but Aegon showed you otherwise. He showed you many times that your existence could be happy and that bliss could coincide with obligation, though you were too thick to accept. You were unsure if that was something you would have achieved without him and felt a strong wave of gratitude for the man above you.

Your hand snaked its way down to Aegon's trousers, untying and undoing the buttons that confined him. You could hardly see his member in the darkness, shadowed by his body in the moonglow, but you could make out the drop of pearlescent liquid seeping onto the wrinkles of your palm. Wrapping your hand around his cock, he groaned, knees buckling and movements faltering as you swiped a thumb at his slit, collecting his seed to aid in the glide of your fist.

The Prince stifled noises of satisfaction with the grit of his teeth, redoubling his previous efforts inside your cunt. He wanted to prove to you, no, needed to prove to you, that he could be good, that he could take care of you the way you do him. You went limp momentarily, unable to do anything other than take it. Still, you steadied yourself, inhaling a calming breath as you refocused, bringing your other hand to pet his stones gently.

"Fuck," Aegon growled through a clenched jaw, his movements halting as he composed himself. "I need you. I need this pretty cunny now."

You opened your legs in acquiescence to welcome him inside, impatience getting the better of you.

He pulled the hem of your night dress higher, fully exposing your aching womanhood to his hungry gaze. Aegon looked ready to devour, his violet eyes black with want, a dragon with its sights set on a lamb. You laid pliant for the Prince while waiting for him to gather, appearing as if this was the first time he had seen you bare.

Finally, he moved, smoothing a hand across your thigh to wrap it around him, dragging his cock through your glistening folds. The sensation was unknown yet pleasant, his ruddy tip brushing against your pearl with a jolt through your body as he covered himself in your juices.

When you both could wait no longer, he pulled away, a clear string of your slick connecting your bodies as slid his cockhead to your entrance, his stare focused between your legs as he watched the flesh stretch around him. It hurt like your Septa and Mother told you, but it was not painful. You sent a silent thank you for Aegon's forethought to your comfort as the expending dulled, contained to the area as Aegon pushed past your maidenhead. You felt the tip nestle

inside you, barely kissing your sweet spot as your cunt fluttered around him in anticipation.

Your walls swelled around the Prince as he watched you swallow him, warm and inviting as he continued forward, causing a deep, long, drawn-out moan to force its way through your throat. Struggling to ground yourself to the intense pressure, your nails dug into the decaying blades of tan grass, dirt wedging underneath them.

"That's it, little one. Take it."

You could feel every centimeter of him, the slight curve to his cock, the full roundness of his shaft leisurely glide through you until he connected his pelvis with yours. Aegon dropped his head into your shoulder, a throaty groan dampening your skin as he waited for your muscles to unclench.

"It-It feels," you stammered, eyes rolling back at his heart beating inside. Your body had no choice but to accept him, encircling his cock in a vice-like grip nestled so closely to your womb. 

"I know, I know," Aegon cooed against you, placing a kiss where your shoulder became your neck as he drew his hips back unhurriedly.

"So full," you managed to finish desperately, head lulling atop his crown.

Your fingers carded through his hair as his cockhead caressed your spot, gradually finding a pace that did not overwhelm you or him. Aegon had no intentions of finishing yet, content to feel the pulsing of your walls surrounding him. His thumb began circling attention at your nub, his palm flat against your wirey curls as you mewled.

"Such a pretty cunny," the Prince whispered breathlessly into your throat, "so puffy and wet just for me." You nodded at his words, unable to form a verbal response as the stimulation overwhelmed you, your body sucking him inside. "So good for your sweet Prince, aren't you? Always so good for me."

His thrusts began to pick up in speed, still keeping the same mind-numbing intensity. Aegon was deep, buried so far inside you that you felt he was mere moments away from entering your belly.

No words could describe the magnitude of this sensation. It was far better than any pleasure he had given you, let alone yourself, causing your limbs to become like wet clay under his touch. Aegon could mold you in any way he saw fit, and you were helpless but to bend.

The Prince straightened his back, your eyes opening to see his cock going in and out of you, his free hand digging into your waist. The veins of his shaft shined in the silver light as a ring of white formed at the base, dark blonde hairs connecting to it. The image was so lewd, so primal, that it sent a wave of consuming arousal rolling through your body as you struggled to stifle a pitched moan.

All you could think, all you could feel was Aegon's thrusts pounding you into the packed dirt below. Nothing but him, his matted hair stuck to his forehead, his disheveled tunic, his digits digging into your flesh, his thumb playing with your pearl, his cock spearing its way through your spongey flesh. Your legs began to tremble, your hand flying to Aegon's as you attempted to ground yourself as he continued unrelentingly.

He felt your walls clench around him with each quick inhale you took, subconsciously milking him for his seed as he doubled over, bracing himself on his forearm. He knew you were close. With a few more thrusts of his hips and swirls of his thumb, you would be gushing around him, succumbing to your ancient desire. The thought overwhelmed him, tears pooling in his eyes as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

You felt the tiny droplets before you heard him, Aegon's voice wet as he whimpered on your skin. Immediately, your fingers went to his hair, carding through his waves in the manner you knew he enjoyed.

"I love you," he mewled into your ear, his breath hot. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Turning your head to face him, you stared into his glassy eyes, yours mirroring his cheeks tinted pink. "My sweet boy. Such a good boy. I'm so proud. You're making me feel so good." Your voice failed into a moan as your abdomen clenched, trying your best to stave off the crescendo of satisfaction. "I'm going to peak. I'm going to come because of you, my love. My darling boy, I'm-"

Ecstasy ran through you, your hips jerking into the air as you came with a rush. Your fingers pulled at Aegon's roots as roaring waves of pleasure submerged you, causing him to move faster at an animalistic pace. It feels as if you've lost control, unable to do anything but thrash and accept his hash movements jolting your body. You are unsure if you want him to stop or continue to prolong this high. 

His thumb leaves your swollen and abused pearl so as not to overstimulate you, the hair on his navel sending shocks as it brushed with each punctuating thrust.

Aegon came soon after with a prolonged whine, his belly tightening and quivering as he haphazardly left his home, spilling the remnants of his seed on your lower stomach and curls. His cock twitched with each spurt as your mind focused, observing with fascination at the physical display of his passion. He panted heavily against your neck, beads of moisture collecting in the area and falling onto the dead blades of grass as you regained your senses. Your hands rested limply at the base of his scalp as the Prince mouthed at your skin, softening above you.

As the haze of lust left you and clarity returned, you slid your palms down his arms, caressing the skin as you directed him to where you needed him most. The Prince kissed you with unwavering devotion, lips unhurried, simply savoring the taste that was you.

"You are so beautiful." His breath tickled your skin as your cheeks became warm.

You giggle, affectionately petting Aegon's hair before he looks at you with the softest expression you've ever seen. It is as if his eyes are sparkling in the near-nonexistent light of the moon. You lean forward and ever so gently kiss his forehead, then nose, before you reach his pink lips. You peck them tenderly, pulling back for just a moment before you truly kiss him again. 

"I love you," he whispers so softly that you barely register it.

Your heart began to race. You almost struggled to find the words to reciprocate. But when you do, Aegon smiles and tucks himself into your side, his head resting on your steadying pulse.

***

The Queen watched as her very world was razed before her. Hidden within a red rock alcove, hands clutched to her beating heart; she listened to the sweet nothings of two lovers beneath the Weirwood.

She initially thought, as she traveled to her and Rhaenyra's favorite spot, hearing the distant moans of coupling, that Aegon was bedding another one of the serving girls. It had become more frequent. Just the day prior, she had walked into whatever he had drunkenly planned with one of Helaena's maids, stopping him with a slap before it could go further.

Had he no shame continuing to tarnish the already precarious nature of his legacy? Alicent had not raised him that way; years of lessons in the Sept with her and his Maesters turned him into no son of hers.

When she had requested your help leading up to Aegon's nameday, the Queen had no intention of you staying in King's Landing for as long as you have. She knew of his sinful affections for you but believed that once you fulfilled your duty, you would return to Dragonstone like Rhaenyra. She had naught the foresight to know how you had not become like her old friend but like the Rogue Prince. Cunning and manipulative, bending society's unspoken laws and rules to weasel yourself into a position on the Small Council. Asking for your help was one of her many regrets in a lifetime filled with them.

The quiet rustling of movements and fabric perked Alicent's ears, swiftly leaving the stone wall she pressed against to peer at you and her son.

He had moved from you, curled into your side as you stroked his hair in a nature that reminded her of her own. It was almost... sweet, the way you touched him, so gentle and kind and full of love that reminded her of the past.

The Queen wiped at the tears that stained her cheeks with her green dress sleeve, nails picking at her cuticles as she slowly retreated into the Red Keep in a manner a frightened doe would, her slippered feet carrying her to the rooms where another one of her regrets resided.

Masterlist of Series

I hope you enjoyed my little Olivia Cook interview reference in the middle XD.

I'm letting y'all know that future chapters will get a lot darker from now on. I won't spoil anything, but it involves Larys, Alicent, and the reader. Some content may be triggering, too, so if you have any concerns, please message me! I'll, of course, put trigger warnings above each chapter like I always do.

Thank you so much for reading!

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[towriteloveontheirarms]

Happy new year (modern!Aemond Targaryen x reader)

synopsis: When Helaena had informed you over one of your phone calls, that for this year's new year not only would the family fly out to their vacation home, but also it would be the whole family, it gave you a bad feeling. Never would you have guessed, that the only thing you would remember of the event would be a purely positive one.  

warnings: purely self indulgent fluff

word count: 1.5k

When Helaena had informed you over one of your phone calls, that for this year's new year not only would the family fly out to their vacation home, but also it would be the whole family, it gave you a bad feeling. So far you had only met Rhaenyra, Daemon and their kids a couple of times. Not even a handful, but whenever they were over for any family celebration chaos was inevitable. More so than it would be anyway. Nonetheless you knew you had to go. There was no chance Aemond would be able to get out of it and you had sworn to him, that he wouldn´t have to do these things alone anymore. You still worried about how bad it was going to be. Never would you have guessed, that the only thing you would remember of the event would be a purely positive one.  

But first you had to tell Aemond the news. As expected, his reaction was nothing short of unreadable to you. In the end the pit of your stomach tightened enough for the both of you.  

The bad feeling tightened for a final time once the two of you arrived at the airport.  

The drive there was the perfect time to relax after trying to fit everything you needed into as little bags as possible and remembering to lock and turn off everything. You would be gone for some time after all. It was the last time to relax until the new year too. Your hopes for a smooth holiday flew out of the window upon arriving where Aemonds family was already waiting for the two of you. You were the last ones to arrive, so you quickly greeted everyone, hugging Helaena and Alicent tightly, before it was time to board the plane. Of course, even this could not have been done without the first of many comments from Jace and Luke. At least Aegon was so out of it from the traveling medicine he had taken he was quiet for now. As you sat down, you could feel Aemonds hand hold yours a little tighter. Looking over to him you could see him rubbing his hands over his face, tiredly. 

“Are you alright, love?”, you gently laid your free hand on his shoulder. Something that always helped grounding him, as he told you. 

“I´m fine, dear. Just a bit tired, that’s all.”, the small smile he gave you did not reach his eye. 

You knew, that that wasn´t what was occupying his mind, but you didn´t want to keep poking, so you squeezed his hand back one more time before turning to the other side to talk to Helaena. You were glad for her sitting beside you. Not that you were particularly scared of flying or anything like that, but listening to her talk about this and that helped a great deal to not concentrate on the sinking feeling that took over you at every start and end of any flight. It made you kind of jealous of Aegon. You wished you could be able to sleep through it like he always did. Oh well, but Helaena did her best to keep your mind busy and you appreciated that and her more than anything for it. 

Talking to your friend and occasionally checking in with Aemond, who also slept through most of the travel, made time go by like it was nothing and sooner than you had anticipated you arrived at the Targaryen’s vacation home. 

It was big and beautifully furnished, but it was also late and so after everyone claimed a room all you did was settle down and go to sleep. 

The next morning you awoke early, still used to your working schedule. Cuddling closer to Aemond you try to fall asleep once more but its to no avail. After staring at the dark ceiling for what felt like forever you hear the house slowly coming to live. There are steps past the closed door at frequent intervals which only add to your to do something, anything. 

Before you can even decide to finally stand up, you felt the body beneath you stir awake. 

“Good morning.”, you say in the softest voice you could muster before kissing his shoulder and chest where previously your head had rested. 

“Good morning, love.”, Aemond grumbles begrudgingly. 

He kisses the crown of your head before letting you go. It´s not long before you are dressed and stand in the kitchen, coffee in hand talking to Alicent about any and all plans for this vacation. Of course you couldn´t let the opportunity pass to thank her again for bringing you along. 

“How could we not? You are part of family after all.”

The days leading up to the festivities went about as swimmingly as they could, mostly spend in separate smaller groups doing nothing of big importance other than doing some last minute gift shopping. To no one’s surprise the evening of could not go over as smoothly. Luckily the damage was limited to a slightly soured mood by backhanded comments from every direction and Aegon drinking more than what was acceptable or bearable. Alicent certainly did her best to keep it at that and after all it wasn´t anything new for the family. 

You were glad that for new year’s eve, before joining his family at the beach for fireworks and drinks, Aemond had made dinner plans at a nice restaurant for just the two of you. It was nice to get some time alone and when you saw the restaurant you could understand why he had said to bring something nice. It looked like the kind of expensive you were still getting used to with him. 

As you sat down at your table you saw his eyebrows were even more tightly knit together than usually. Bringing your thumb up to his face as to not scare him you try to flatten the deep crease, before letting your hand rest on his cheek. 

“What is going on with you, Aem. You have been awfully quiet ever since we left home. You are starting to worry me. You know you can talk to me about everything.” 

“There is nothing to worry about, my love.”, kisses your hand before letting it sink to the table with a hum. “Now let us eat. We wouldn´t want to be late for the firework.” 

He doesn´t fully convince you. The first sentence specifically sounds more like he tries to convince himself, but he is right. You had promised Alicent to make it to the fireworks and despite your distaste for the noise that came with it you were excited for the show you were promised. 

“You are right. We don´t want to be late.”, you squeeze his hand reassuringly before clinking glasses. 

The food and your conversation are great, but you are glad when you leave the restaurant. 

At the beach you are greeted by a lot of tipsy, but happy faces. Complimenting the dress and handing you glasses of champagne and just for you, earmuffs. 

“I remember you said you don´t like the noise.”, says Aemond as he hands you the pair. 

“Thank you.” 

And before you can say more there is a hiss and colorful sparks explode in the night sky. Helaena was definitely proven correct in her promise towards you. Daemon put on an excellent show and even after a while when the younger family members were sent to bed and Viserys had bid his farewell for the evening too you were left with a much smaller and almost pleasant group. The fireworks had long since been forgotten, as was your hearing protection. With the only sounds coming from further away you could celebrate the start into the new year with the Targaryens freely. 

You and Aemond are the last to leave. Walking slowly, your fingers intertwined, arms softly swinging with every step, he suddenly comes to a stop. It´s not far to the house, but you are also not far from where you had celebrated.  

“Come on we gotta get back.” you say with a chuckle, frowning at his silence.  

Before you can say another thing, he kneels to the ground and pulls out a small velvety box. 

“What?” your voice is breathy, and tears already start welling up in your eyes. 

“My whole life, I wanted to keep standing straight. But for you, I want to kneel on my knees. I have loved you since we met and continued to do so a little more every day. Marry me, please?” 

“I… Yes! Of course, I´ll marry you.”, you clasp a hand over your mouth. The tears, that now spill over, fall thick and freely as Aemond puts the ring on your finger. It´s beautiful. A thin band with little sapphires and diamonds incorporated within it shining in the moonlight. Your lips seal in a tender kiss, holding each other impossibly close. 

“Oh Aemond, it´s so beautiful, but I fear I will need a cheaper ring for daily use. This one belongs in a bank in a safe deposit box.” 

“Believe me, my love. It´s just right for daily use. You only deserve the best after all.” 

Together you make your way back to bed, but all the fatigue from before had left your body entirely.