#kingdom of kingsland

[girlwiththoughts13]

The Blackest Green

Aemond Targaryen x F!reader/ Daemon Targaryen x F!reader

Warnings: Incest/ P in V /infidelity/ Age-gap/Minor breeding kink/

Word count: 4k

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Aemond Targaryen was an intellectual. The cost of being the object of his elder brother and young nephews jests, was that there was no place he could turn to. With no dragon, no companions, no love, his studies of the histories, his mother tongue and his extensive training with the sword, soothed the ache of his inadequacy.

As well as the shameful lusting of his half-sister Rhaenrya's child. He couldn't recall when he developed these feelings for the girl but he knew he resented himself for it. She was the only one of Rhaenrya's children that inherited valyrian features. Sliver hair that you always wore in a simple braid in order to allow the rest of your locks to flow long down your back, striking violet eyes that looked straight through anyone who gazed into them. You were a mystery to him. He couldn't tell whether you were a bastard or the true born daughter of Laenor, as it seemed Rhaenyra had made you all on her own. However, your beauty went beyond your mother's, it was fact in his mind that no one would ever be able to compare. When you smiled or your eyes met his, his chest burned, his heart attempting to free itself from the confines of his chest and jump into your hands. Regardless, you were the enemy to Aemond and he would not allow himself to fully indulge in these sinful thoughts, your brothers were menaces and although you never participated in his humiliation he had no doubt you were just as savage as the rest of them.

After his eye was taken his hatred grew for Rhaenrya and her bastard children, but as much as he tried, this hatred did not extend to you. To compensate for the immeasurable loss and to eliminate any strife between the families a marriage pact between Aemond and Rhaenrya's daughter was made. Although deep down they all knew that this would not uphold the weight of the growing divide.

You were allowed to journey back to Dragonstone with the rest of your family, only being 10 summers old, it was agreed that you would not wed until you flowered.

That day came at the age of 5 and 10. On the dock leading to your ship, Your mother, the crowned heir stood tall in front of you, looking to you as the great leader you knew she'd be. But you could tell by her misty eyes and the slight tremble in her movements, sending you away to the greens was breaking her heart as it was yours. It was not your desire to leave and be thrown to the wolves who would surely tear you apart for the blood that ran through your veins.

"You must be strong, my girl, you are my heir, the future queen of the seven kingdoms, don't forget that and don't let them forget it either" You nodded hastily as she brought you into a tight embrace. Over her shoulder you locked eyes with your step-father Daemon who had fought very hard to break this betrothal but to no avail. His hand rested on the pommel of Dark sister knuckles white with tension. Daemon had spent these many years on Dragonstone teaching you.. about everything. He said it was to prepare you for the land you would one day rule. He gave you a curt nod which you knew was his way of saying goodbye without all the sentiments. Rhaenrya slowly detached herself from you in a way that let you know she didn't want to. She brought her hand to your check and softly stroked the skin there, staring deeply into your eyes to commit you to memory. There was a very real possibility she would not be seeing you for years to come.

"We won't be there for the ceremony but I'll be in here every step of the way, I promise" She rested her free hand on your heart as a tear slid down your face.

"Goodbye mother"

Being married to the one-eyed prince was not at all the death sentence your brothers had made you to believe it was. It was simply fine. Your arrival to kingslanding was well received and your wedding celebrations were beautiful. No expense was spared for the favorite child of Queen Alicent, no matter how insignificant his station was as a second son. Somewhere along the lines you and Aemond found a way to coexist in peace..in a semblance of care. You would break your fast together, watch him train, ride your dragons and perform your martial duties. Marriage had at last allowed Aemond's heart to open the door to the room that was always meant for you. He knew that you cared for him but it was your love he was after and he had no doubt he'd successfully receive it one day. In the one year you were married your womb did not bare the evidence of his seed, however, he had much fun with the process of conceiving a babe, therefore there were no complaints from him. He instead took this time without children to learn about you as you were. Your favorite color, flower, time of day. You would humor him only when you felt like It; you were greedy with your time and attention, mainly spending that with your grandsire. When he died it broke your heart you had much love for the man and would visit him regularly. But there was an eagerness to ride and alert your mother yourself of her new title of Queen.

One tug at the locked doors of your chamber and you knew what you tried so hard to ignore. Mere hours later Aemond entered your chambers, you wasted no time rushing over to him before he even fully closed the door, grabbing his lapels and pulling him close.

"Tell me what has happened and don't lie to me" Tears were already pressing against the back of your eyes.

"Viserys is dead" Aemond turned into the fearsome man that everyone knew him as, cold and unyielding. "Aegon will be his successor" The moment the words left his lips you released your hold and let out a sharp gasp as if someone had knocked the air from your lungs. "He will be crowned before the masses as his family stands behind him-loyally" You look up at his insinuation that you'd ever support that drunken fool. A scoff escapes you.

"Do you think I will stand behind a usurper? My mother is the rightful Queen and I her heir" Your voice gaining more volume as you spew the proclamations.

He hand reaches out for your arm, pulling you harshly to him "You're my wife, you will stand beside me, without argument" Though you give no further fight, you rip your arm away and turn toward the bed. Aemond lets you go, granting you some reprieve.

Unlike Princess Rhaenys you were not able to escape. Aemond was highly paranoid and had kept you with him at all times. Going as far as moving you into his chambers; Although he was gone for most of the day with you locked within the room with nothing but the walls and your own thoughts as company. Alicent visited you once, attempting to coax you to see things from her point of view. You told her that her and her false king could go fuck themselves.. she never returned.

Night fell and with it came harsh winds that rattled your windows. You regularly added more wood to the hearth to keep yourself warm. It was there you found yourself when Aemond entered the chamber. His steps were erratic and his breaths uneven. "Has anyone been in here?!" Gone was his usually calm and quiet voice replaced with a manic tone. "The door only opens by your hand husband" you answered sarcastically. Your humor vanished at once when he hasty made his way to Maegors tunnels ensuring they were still sealed. You stared into his back remaining seated. "Has something happened?" It was as if he forgot you were there with the way he jumped to you.

He walked quickly and kneeled before you. Hands resting on your hips. "You must know it was not my intention... Vhagar she just.. she wouldn't listen to me anymore..you see" He whispered his eye trained on your stomach. You placed one hand on top of his. "Okay, okay, I hear you, tell me" you were gentle with your voice and touch, understanding this was what he needed from you. Aemond inhaled deeply and finally looked up.

"I killed Lucerys"

The world turned early quiet which then gave way to a ringing so loud it drowned out whatever he was saying. You saw his lips moving fast before your eyes began to blur. His hands beneath yours suddenly burned, so you pulled away from him all together, standing. Your weight was too much for your shaking legs, you made it all of two steps before collapsing, forehead pressed into the ground, mouth beginning to let out pained wails. Your little brother, too kind, too gentle, dead and in such a violent way. Aemond crouched beside you and put his hand on your back wanting nothing more than to comfort his wife. You crawled away from him, screaming all the while. "Get away from me!!"

You made it to your vanity using it as a crutch to lift yourself from the floor. You made quick work of grabbing the small dagger hidden beneath the furniture, the one Daemon had gifted you on your 2 and 10th nameday. You pointed the dagger at him. "I'll kill you". Lunging for Aemond with the intent to kill but no real power behind it. He grabbed your arms and held them high above both of you. "I'm so sorry, my love, stop" Retraining you was no real struggle for him. The dagger dropped to the floor as the fight continued. When he released your hands your palms opened flat against his chest as you pushed him, then again, then a slap across his cheek "Kinslayer" push, slap, "Fight back!" you yelled straining your voice. Wrestling a bit to lower your arms he crushed you into an embrace holding you there as you cried and squirmed. His head rested on the top of your own, whispering apologies.

Since then you scarcely saw Aemond. He avoided you like the plague not wishing to see the anger and hatred in your eyes. You were at abed when your doors were thrown open. You sat up immediately knowing Ameond would never enter your rooms in such a way. The stench of wine and debauchery that was Aegon's signature scent invaded your nostrils. He stumbled his way over to you, calling your name, laughing all the while.

Aegon took a seat at the end of your bed and extended his upper body to you. "Sweet sister, are you not so lonely without your dear husband?"

"What is it that you want Aegon?" In no mood to entertain his idiotic tendencies.

Ever the jester on a mission to embarrass his little brother at every turn, Aegon retold the accounts of his late night adventure in the city. How he went into a brothel and found Aemond curled up in the arms of the madame of the establishment like a new born-babe. It was nice he said how Aemond still found himself with his first woman. It was at times difficult to understand with the crude words and his growing laughter. By the time he was done he had gotten drowsy enough to lay his head down. The soft snores that emitted from his mouth let you know he was down for the night. Aemond the kinslayer, Aemond the unfaithful husband. How much could you take of the shame he forced upon you. With a new determination you knew the fool had left the door unlocked and as Aemond assured the kingsguard there was no way for you to exit, it was unguarded.

Cannibal wouldn't have been tamed into the dragonpit. There was no point attempting to find him there. He wouldn't be to far either, not without his rider. In the long hallways, you pulled your common looking cloak around your self tighter, paying special care to hide your sliver locks. Sending a quick prayer to your gods you pushed open the chamber and it gave way without fuss. Entering you made swift strides to the tunnels in Daemon's old chambers. Once again opening with just a shove.

Somehow you made it to water, a little off from the docks to avoid being seen. When you bring your pointer and middle fingers into your mouth you ready yourself to make it worth it, you let out a loud whistle. There won't be a second chance until people come looking for the source. A beat of silence passes than another. Suddenly you hear the distinct flapping of wings and the wind blowing harsher in your face. Thank the gods cannibal does not let out a roar, as if he's aware of the delicacy of the situation. When he lands at your feet, lightly as he can, you break for his back to climb atop him. Once properly situated he flys high above in the sky, no commands leave your lips but you know where he's taking you, home.

Rhaenrya was restless. The loss of her son and the enslavement of her only daughter. The taking of her throne, her inheritance. The greens had taken so much from her. And yet she still hoped foolishly to avoid war. It was a tiring thing keeping Daemon at bay. He smelled blood. As if he didn't already want Aemond Targaryen's head on a stick for taking you from him, now he has murdered Luke and Rhaenrya was doing nothing about it. He was fully prepared to fly to the red keep and bring you home. It's this same argument he brings to the war room, hovering over the painted table.

"I can go personally. No one will expect my arrival" Daemon is determined facing his new Queen. Jace stands between Baela and Rhaena believing no one to be as affected by your absence than his step-father. "Yes because no one would do something this rash Daemon" Rhaenrya counters. "If we send anyone at all it should not be someone of your high station Prince Daemon" Rhaenys wisely counseled. This meeting was one for those who shared blood, no other lord was present in the room which Rhaenrya was glad of.

"She's the heir to iron throne the longer we wait the faster they''ll kill her" His words were rough to convey the urgency. "Alicent will not kill my daughter" There was still faith in her heart that their friendship during youth held importance to Alicent. "Oh just like she wouldn't take your birthright Rhaenrya? Or kill your son?!" A feign chuckle followed by a huff of bitter words

"Enough! She's my daughter Daemon, Mine and I have decided there's nought to be done for the time being" Rhaenrya commanded the room as now was her right, Rhaenys let the corner of her lip curl forward at the prince's reprimanding. Daemon gives the Queen a cold stare before stomping out of the room.

Rhaenrya sighs while turning to her son walking toward him. "I will bring your sister home, I have not abandoned her, but there are right and wrong paths to go about it and Daemon's way is the wrong one" Jace always thought that all of Daemons 'ways' were the wrong way, he gave a nod to his mother "I know mother, I know"

"DRAGON!!" Knights scurried around the fortress attempting to arrange the scorpion with haste. "Alert the Queen now!"

Grateful that she had not gone to bed after her spat with Daemon, The Queen made her way to the top of the watch towers to oversee the scorpions. They were in position and awaiting her command. Her violet eyes scanned the skies when she spotted the dragon and their rider. A strangled cry escaped her "Stop! It's my daughter!", The knights made quick work to dismantle the weapon "Stand down it's the princess"

Rhaenrya practically ran down the steps. She felt as if her eyes were deceiving her and you'd vanish once again. She stopped a foot away from you as you climbed down your dragon. There was a pause when you hit the sand, taking each other in before you both ran into each others arm. She pressed your head into the top of her breast holding you there, rocking you gently back and forth. "Oh my girl, my sweet girl" She grabbed the sides of your face with both hands looking you all over "Are you hurt?"

"No mother, I'm okay, I'm home" You cried, tears falling.

Rhaenrya and her daughter made their way back into the castle, hand in hand. The queen leading them back to the war room, where she instructed a guard to alert her family to gather. The weight in your chest disappeared when the door gave way and you knew you were in the presence of your true family. Jace spotted you first and stepped forward to wrap you in his arms. He stepped aside to allow your cousins Baela and Rhaena to give you quick embraces followed by "I'm glad you're safe cousin".

Your mother tugged you to her side once again to assure herself you were safe.

A moment passes, all cries and laughs, when the door crashes open. Daemon wordlessly moves forward into the room making a beeline for you. He brings his arms around you when your within reach and stares into the eyes of Rhaenrya over you shoulder while having you in his hold, still upset you had to make your escape all on your own which could have resulted in your death. He turned his head so that his words would only reach your ears.

"Gōntan pōnta renigon ao" Did they touch you? Daemon does not know what he would do if he hears of any wrongdoings brought upon you, his sweet dragon, his purest little girl. "Daor kepus" No uncle.

He steps back and allows you to be swept back into Rhaenryas arms.

It had taken a while to convince your mother that you would be okay in your chambers alone. There was no greater desire than to sleep in the safety of your acestral home and forget the war to come. You sat at your vanity in nothing but your shift combing your hair after a much needed bath. The warmth and weight of a palm fell on your shoulder, you shuddered.

"Kepus" you turned head and he moved his hand to catch your chin and tilt it up. Daemon had never seen such a beautiful sight. A siren if he ever knew one. He was convinced that you had bewitched him. His gentle niece, so eager to learn from her uncle.

"Skorkydoso gōntan ao jiōragon hen, gōntan aōha valzȳrys jikagon ao kesīr?" how did you get out, did your husband send you here? As much as he believed in your strength, he was surprised to see you escape on your own unscathed too. "Daorys iksin jurnegēre, nyke geptot" No one was looking, I left, you shrugged, there really was nothing more to it and It didn't matter now.

You stood to your full height but your uncle towered over you nonetheless. Daemon stared down at you with the same lust he did those few years ago. His hand came up to your shoulder once more this time dragging your sleeve down, freeing one of your breast. he repeated this action to the other, never breaking eye contact as your shift pooled around your feet. His big hand came around your jaw and his thumb stroked your lips softly, barely there. Hand falling down to your neck which he grasped tightly, jealously had a hold on him at the thought of the one-eyed bastard laying his filthy hands on your soft skin. Skin that belonged to him, that was made by him.

You came up on your tip toes in attempt to catch his mouth with yours but he pulled back slightly, a smirk gracing his face. He leans down and you turn your face so his lips meet your cheek which he delivers gentle kisses onto. When you face each other your noses brush together, not being to wait any longer you both press your lips together. His tongue invades your mouth reacquainting himself with your taste. His fingers lace into your moonlight hair, puling you more deeply into him, his other hand falls to your lower back, he lifts you and walks toward your bed where he drops you at the edge of it. You fall back on your elbows and watch as he kneels and brings his hands to the back of your thighs spreading your legs wide for him. He pounces at your center, like a man starved, eyes closing at your sweet essence swirling on his tongue. You throw your head back and let out a quiet moan. Daemon slowly brings one finger to your entrance teasing you before it slips in easily from your wetness and his salvia. He adds another as he sucks at your clit. A shriek rushes out with your building release. Just as you're about to jump off the edge he pulls aways and presses kisses to your skin as he works his way up. From the top of your mound, to your belly, collarbone, neck, jaw, cheek, and when his bulky body that covers yours entirely rests between your legs he smashing his lips on yours once more.

Your fingers rush out to undo his laces of his breeches and the ties on his loose shirt which he shrugs off promptly. Daemon lays atop you bare, his length gliding across your glistening cunt. "Aōha valzȳrys gaomas daor qogralbar ao sȳrī gaomas ziry?" Your husband does not fuck you well does he?

Thoughts of the whore he is coddled by invades your mind. Ever since you were girl you craved a man. You would not find Daemon in the arms of anyone much less a whore play-acting as a babe. No this man above you was all fire and blood in its truest form-and nothing made you more wet than the thought. He taps your cheek "Answer me" switching to common tongue.

"No Kepus, when he laid above me, I'd imagine it was you. I'd remember all the times you were inside me, how good it felt" You pant out. Daemon groaned at your words, pushing inside you. On instinct you wrapped your legs around his waist, letting out a sharp gasp. Long has your shame gone of lying with your mother's husband; Especially when he thrusts hard instantly hitting the spot deep inside you that only he has ever reached. Daemon grunts when he removes himself from your warmth bringing his hands to your waist and flipping you around, dragging your hips up and smoothing a hand down your back, he puts his cock back inside you and begins rutting into you like an animal. You push back against him and he brings one hand around you to furiously rub at you clit. "Uh kepus I'm coming" You cry out. The wave of your orgasm is so intense you feel your cunt clench tightly in an attempt to squeeze him out of you. Daemon stuffs himself back in and chases his own release. "Iksan jāre naejot dīnagon ñuha rūs isse ao" I'm going to put my babe in you. "Everyone can see who you spread your legs open for".

"Yes! Kepus please finish inside me, I want your seed" With that and the tightening of your pussy, Daemon releases with a shout, his cock twitching inside you, seed coating your walls. When he pulls free you feel his seed run down your thighs and onto your fresh sheets.

Daemon moves to lay on his back and pulls you to his side so your head rest across his chest. His hand caresses your arm up and down, it's a nice comfortable silence, and in this moment you can both pretend that it is each other you are married too and there's no threat of war.

"Your soon to become a widow" He promises

"Good"

[the20thangel]

As My Queen Commands

Summary: This was a request: The war has ended, leaving a few survivors for the Targaryen family. As the oldest living child of Queen Rhaenyra and King-Consort Daemon, you have been crowned as Queen. Your council worries this is insufficient to stabilize the realm and urge you to marry. So, a ball is hosted to find a potential husband. There, you happen to meet again a certain lord from Raventree Hall.

Targaryen!reader X Benjicot Blackwood

Tags: no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.9k

masterlist

It has been five moons since the war officially ended, with only a few survivors left: Your sisters, Baela and  Rhaena, You, and your brothers Aegon and Visery. In contrast, poor little Jaehaera was the only survivor of the greens. They wanted to marry the little princess to your brother Aegon to show peace to the realm, but you fought tooth and nail against it. Luckily, it worked, with the princess warding in Driftmark with Baela. Rhaena decided to stay in Kingslanding to continue helping in looking after Aegon and Viserys. You were forever grateful to her, not knowing how you would have juggled caring for two small princes and bringing peace to a kingdom on your own. 

You sighed as your maid finished braiding your platinum hair into beautiful Valyrian braids. Lord Corlys Velayron, one of your advisors, decided that if Aegon did not marry Jaehaera, a ball needed to happen; you required an heir. You needed to marry someone to strengthen your reign and have said heir. You grew upset at the news, stating that Aegon and Viserys were your heirs. You did not need to marry so soon but to focus on the realm. But the lords opposed it, stating that an alliance would help strengthen prosperity for your reign. After countless arguments, it started to weigh on you. You surrendered yourself to finding a husband to ease the tensions. You knew that, realistically, you should have been married already, but with a war, nobody besides Cregan Stark would have the luck to find a spouse. So it was decided the ball was a host to find lords who would gladly become king consort. 

“Thank you, Diana. That will be all tonight,” you dismissed your maid as you finished placing your red ruby jewelry on your body: a necklace, earrings, and rings. 

As you rose, making sure you seemed presentable, you heard a knock on your chamber doors, calling for them to enter; came in little Viserys, wearing a red and black doublet and a black cape. Smiling, you went to your brother, kissing him on the forehead, asking him what brought him to your room. 

“Aegon and I decided to escort you and Rhaena to the ball. I wanted to escort you!” Viserys excitedly explained, his purple eyes glowing. 

You smiled at him, your heart growing fond of his childish excitement at a party in his own words. You gladly extended your hand to him as you both walked to the ballroom. Servants, knights, lords, and ladies smiled at the scene of the young prince escorting his queenly sister. As you grew closer to the ballroom, your heart started racing. You needed to find a husband, a husband who would defend you without hindering your rule. A Husband who will love you and not stray in lovers. A husband who would be okay with not being the center of attention or being unable to spend time entirely at his keep. More importantly, you need a husband who would love your brothers as sons as you have grown to love them as your sons. These two boys suffered so much that they needed parental figures. You gladly took on that role, and you knew other lords would instead ship them off to the ward and focus on their children from your union. You would not allow that to happen; your brothers would be raised together with any potential children. 

As your royal titles were introduced, you entered the ballroom; the once somber room brought back to life like the times of King Viserys I. Numerous houses' colors and banners hang from the gilded walls. You walked with your head held high, noticing how every male in the room turned to you, looking at you like a piece of meat or prize to be won. Disgusted, you knew this night was going to be a long one. 

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After two hours of mindless chatter and many toes sore from lords clumsy stepping on your feet, you felt like you would burst. If one more lord came up to you talking about their “accomplishments” or your hand for a dance, you were considering feeding them to your dragon.

 Rhaena, noticing her sister’s mood, quickly went to her side. 

“Sister, why don’t you step outside for a while? I will distract the lords… tease them that I also might be willing to marry one,” advised Rhaena, squeezing your hand. 

You smiled gratefully at her; she knew you well as you nodded and sneakily walked out of the ballroom. You decided to go into the courtyard, where there was silence; walking alone, you sighed in relief. Away from the court’s hungry eyes, you felt like you could finally breathe; you heard the chirps of crickets and the noises of the small folk outside the walls. At least your people had the chance to have fun and eat after suffering for so long due to the war. If people were happy, then you would be willing to suffer through 100 more balls. Walking further to the training yards, eyes filled with tears. Remembering when you secretly train with Jace and Luke here once, you pick up a bow. You were more of an archer than a sword fighter. Feeling the need to release some stress, you notched your bow, aiming at the targets, letting it go. With glee, you smiled, seeing how it hit the center of the target. Notching another, you continue your meditation of aim, notch, release, and hit. You forgot about the outside world, silly lords, and their silly ideas. Let yourself forget the constraints of marriage that will soon find you one way or another. As you notched your bow again, you heard footsteps close to you; you aimed at the intruder, who quickly froze, raising his hands in peace. 

Seeing the familiar red and black clothing, you sighed, lowering your bow, “I would think you knew better than to sneak up on a dragon princess, Lord Blackwood.” 

“Dragon Queen, you mean? And I did not mean to; I was just walking around when I heard the sound of arrows, and my curiosity peaked, not expecting to find the queen here.” teased Benjicot, smirking at you. 

You snorted with an unamused brow raised. You tended to forget that you were now the queen, not a princess. 

“Hmm, what about you… Does the Bloody Ben not do ballroom dances?” you ask, not letting yourself falter from his teasing. You grin as you see him flush red and look down at the floor. 

“ I’m sorry, my queen, but I fear, no, dancing is not one of my skills, and after stepping on a few toes, I thought it best to save more maiden’s poor feet.” embarrassedly explained Benjicot, his eyes still to the ground. 

As you began to giggle at the mental image, he raised his head sharply, his eyes widening as he heard your soft giggles. He hoped you would not notice his cheeks flushing red even more, but he thought seeing you laughing was beautiful. He always admired you from afar during the war, but he was so busy leading the armies and you with the stress of your mother’s state. Neither had a chance to speak to one another properly. Then, after the war, he had to return to his lands and tend to them, and you were crowned the queen. 

After your giggles, you smiled at him, noticing how he stared at you like you were the moon, blushing you asked him to walk with you. Walking in serene silence, your fingers brushed against one another. You smiled at the feeling as you wondered how his lands were doing. 

Benji smiled at you, “It's going well; we are recuperating from the war; it helps that since my lady aunt Alysanne has married lord Stark, the Brakens haven’t tried to enter our lands…forgive me, I should…” Falter Benji worried you would become upset hearing about his house's feud with the Brakens. 

Seeing this, you turned to him, grasping his hands, “ Benjicot… we fought a war together. I saw how the Brakens treated your family. I do not mind hearing your worries, my lord. On the contrary, I wanted to ask why there hasn’t been an official border separating your lands from theirs?” 

Benji smiled wry at you, “We have in the past, but… no offense to your grandsire, but he did not deem it essential to discuss.” 

You sighed, knowing your grandsire had made many mistakes, including allowing Otto Hightower free reign in his kingdom. You will not make the same foolish mistakes. 

Smiling, you replied, “How about a moon after the ball? I invite houses Blackwood and Bracken to set a clear border separating your lands finally. Hopefully, this will stop the bloodshed between the two houses.” 

Benji gaped at you. He couldn’t believe you would do that for him and his family after many years and losses. He quickly thanked you, kissing your hand as you graced him with a pearly smile. You noticed you had been gone for a while, and Rhaena would probably start worrying. You two walked back towards the ballroom, taking your time, not wanting to leave each other's company, as Benji asked how he could repay your generosity. 

Humming, you finally clicked that he was here at the ball; he was an eligible suitor, and House Blackwood was loyal and fierce. What better match than them than him? 

“Lord Blackwood, I just remembered you are here tonight. Were you going to try for my hand like the other lords?” you asked, hoping he said yes. It would be easier to explain your decision to him. 

Benjicot froze as he tensed his shoulders. He hoped you had forgotten the purpose of so many houses here. He decided to tell you a white lie so your rejection would not hurt. 

“I came to celebrate you, my queen, but yes, I came to look for a potential wife… so many houses came that my advisors are pushing me to try and…charm a lady to want a marriage alliance with my house…but-” 

You frowned, a lady? “Not a queen?” you interrupted as you watched his face; he seemed shocked by your question.

Gulping, Benji noticed your eyes sharpened. “No, my queen, I could never insult you like that. What could my house ever bring to you in a marriage?” 

Your eyes softened at his humble words; all these lords came flocking their houses and praising what a potential marriage would bring to the realm and the crown. Yet here was one lord who truly enjoyed her company, not looking for marriage because he believed he was not worthy of such a thought. 

As you walked closer, you stroked his cheek before moving your hand to his lips, your thumb caressing his lips as you whispered. 

“House Blackwood stood by my mother throughout the war; you fought bravely in battles for my family, reclaiming Kingslanding and all without thinking of any sort of payment. Even today, while every lord flocked to me like peacocks showing off their ‘qualities,’ you humbly state how you feel you are not worthy. You still expected nothing from me, even once I said I would build a border to keep your lands safe from the Brakens. What more could I ever ask for a future king consort? You, my lord, are different, and I cannot help but ask for you at least think of marriage with me.” 

Benji smiled, leaning closer to you, “Is that a command from you, my queen?” 

Grinning, seeing how he never rejected your confession, you leaned closer, your lips nearly touching, “If it is, would you accept my lord?” 

Huffing in a quiet laugh, “As my queen commands of me,” he replied, kissing you sweetly. 

Melting into his embrace, you smiled at his kiss, feeling the future in his arms seemed brighter. 

[ashblooddragons]

My Heart, My Ruin (Prolouge/?)

22 ac Kingslanding

Maegors pov

I could hear my good-sister's screams well into the night. I finally gave up trying to fid sleep once the hour of the owl came, I climbed out of my bed and went to where I knew my brother would be waiting until his wife had given birth to their child. She’s been in labor since yesterday at the hour of the wolf, surely she should have had the babe by now.

When I walked in I saw mother and father standing next to each other whispering as my brother sat in a chair sobbing.

“What’s wrong, she’s been in labor since yesterday, shouldn’t the babe be here?” I ask as I rub the drowsiness from my eyes. 

I watch mother and father look at each other silently having a conversation with only their eyes. Probably deciding if I should know or not. But it is not them who answers but my sniffling brother.

“The babe won’t come, the Maesters think Alyssa’s contractions are too weak.” Aenys sobs out.

“These are just guesses my son, they are giving her a concoction now to strengthen them.” Father says rubbing Aenys back as he sobs into his hands. 

I look at Mother and see a scowl on her face, she never liked how Father treats Aenys compared to me says he “treats him like some infant looking for their Mother’s teat.” and in this moment of watching his brother sob so openly, he wonders if his mother is right.

“What would happen if the concoction doesn’t work?” I ask looking from my brother to my Mother.

“Then we will have to choose who lives, the babe or the Mother.” Mother responds in a cold calculating tone. This only makes Aenys sob more.

“But it will not come to that, we have the greatest Maesters in all of the seven Kingdoms we have nothing to fear.” Father says trying to reassure Aenys again as he glares at Mother.

Mother scoffs and takes a sip of her amber gold wine, she doesn’t like it as much as Dornish red but ever since Rhaenys death she won’t touch anything to do with the Dornish. She often says. “They took my sister with that scorpion arrow, I suppose I am glad they had horrible aim and Meraxes did not perish either. If this, me not drinking their wine is the only way I can show how I hate them, then I will.” 

Mother and Father say Meraxes had seen the arrow coming, she had tried to dive so it wouldn’t his either her or Aunt Rhaenys, but she hadn’t noticed quick enough, and the arrow had split her in two. Meraxes has been inconsolable since her rider’s death, but Father has said he swears he sees her flying above Kingslanding over the last moon, as if looking, searching for something. This is odd as she much prefers the sulfur rocks and salty air of Dragonstone compared to Kingslandings stench and filth. 

I can not blame the dragon though, I do as well, I’d much rather be on our ancestral home instead of this filth-ridden city.

We all flinched, well besides Mother, when we hear a bone-chilling scream from Alyssa, and then it all went quiet. I hear Aenys sob more thinking his wife as perished until we hear the cries that only a healthy babe could make. 

Aenys bolts out of his chair and rushes to his wife, Mother, and Father not far behind them. I sigh in relief knowing I can finally get some much-needed sleep. 

The next morning I go to visit my new niece, when I enter I see my good-sister asleep on the birthing bed with new sheets dorning it so the stench of blood isn’t as pungent in the air. I turn and look at my brother who is smiling down at a bundle in his arms.

Are babes truly that small, Alyssa was huge and the bundle doesn’t even reach the length of my brother's forearm.

I’m cut out of my musing when Aenys looks at me smiling waving me over trying to keep quiet as to not wake his wife or the babe.

“Come meet your niece, Rhaella.” He says as he rests the babe into my arms making sure I hold her right.

When I look down I see her looking up at me with the most gorgeous lavender eyes I’ve ever seen, they take my take my breath away. I shake my head trying to gain my bearings again. 

“She’s so small, is she supposed to be this small?” I ask as I move some of the blanket to see a swarm of silver-white curls atop her little head.

“I had asked the Maesters the same thing, they said it’s normal for the first to be small.” He responds touching the tufts of hair upon her head. 

I nod not taking my eyes off hers, I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. I sit on a plush armchair staring at her, staring at the very being who seems to keep my heart pumping now, the very thing I will always adore and cherish, the one thing, one person I could never hurt. I knew in this moment she would be the very focal point of my heart, but she would also be my very ruin.

Series Masterlist

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the Header for this fic!!! I swear I'd be lost without you Girly!

@sugutoad @ilikefelines @baybaybear1 @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @classicsimpforaaronwarner

[axelsagewrites]

Heya this is kind of Robb Stark but more of a friendship one where y/n is Robbs wife (Robert Baratheons only real child and is very nice a sweet and was in a arranged marriage to Robb but fell In love. She is famous for being beautiful has songs written about her and all that jazz)and it’s when Caytlen comes to camp with Brienne of Tarth and y/n is kind of amazed by her and finds her very beautiful. They end up having a conversation where y/n compliments her but Brienne thinks she’s joking but y/n is quick to correct her. y/n gives her a very encouraging speech about how she admires her . Not that Brienne would show it but she’s very touched by it and grows a soft spot for y/n just a very nice moment. If you don’t do these types of pens that’s fine ❤️

Queen in the North and South

Main Pairing: Platonic Brienne x f!reader

Second Pairing: Romantic Robb x f!reader

Summary: Brienne and the reader discuss to pros and cons of beauty and where to find it

Warnings: Mentions of creepy men

Word count: 2842

Masterlist Here

When you first arrived at Winterfell you were hesitant of your new life being forced upon you but soon grew to love it. In Kingslanding you had felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb. You didn’t share the same Lannister locks with your siblings nor your mother’s affiliation with wine. As your father’s oldest child, he adored you but as you grew, he began to show you off and flaunt you to the lords around.

“Gather round my lords and see the greatest beauty in all of Westeros!” He would cheer drunk on his ale and those around would join in. over time you learned to hide your embarrassment at the attention, and the glares your mother would give you for it and smiled politely. Men would come to court simply to play the songs they wrote for you, or lords would attempt to rhyme off pretty sonnets in your honour. It felt nice to be loved but as you grew you noticed the lust in many eyes and began to feel disgust.

But you smiled politely like you did when you first met Robb. He was of course very handsome himself; a true Tully look about him with all the Stark courage and honour. However, you tried not to obsess over looks like many had done with you and insisted on getting to know him as a person.

As it turned out Robb was more interesting than you first assumed however far too trusting of people. Something you tried to educate him on. Robb was just relieved that his wife was not just a pretty face, not that he complained about your looks since he adored them. Once you were wed you began to talk late into the night, discussing opinions and having debates. even when you told him his opinion was wrong, he couldn’t help but smile at the way you delivered the punch line.

You had learned one thing from your mother and that was that you wanted to be the opposite of her in every way. In Kingslanding you would often venture into the city to teach the small folk how to read or hear their folktales. It was how you first heard the songs they sang about you. The beauty of all the kingdoms. That’s what they called you and it meant so much more from then that it did the lords at court.

In Winterfell you spent time meeting and talking to everyone and anyone you could. Often you played hide and seek with the younger Starks and Sansa flocked to you like a mother hen. You also managed to gain the favour of many lords and ladies in the North as the South had taught you what to say and how.

When Ned Stark died it was not just the Young Wolf they rode out for and died for. It was you. While northerners cheered for Robb to be their king, Kingslanding silently begged for you their true queen to return and take the throne from your monster of a brother. You had even received letters from Dorne backing your claim. The king in the north and queen in the south.

However, you weren’t the only one who had a claim, a claim you had yet to announce you were fighting for to the world. Renly Baratheon also believed himself king. You couldn’t understand your uncles reasoning in the slightest. Stannis’s claim was the only logical one if Joffrey was a bastard and the lords sought a king not a queen. Why not join Stannis as his heir? Then you could never quite understand your uncle.

You hoped Lady Catelyn would however when she left to see his camp. Robb had insisted you did not go meet your uncle personally. While you had not announced your claim many rumours flew around about it and Robb was not prepared to send his wife off to a camp filled with your rivals’ men. Despite your marriage being a political one it had grown into love and admiration for each other. Little did Tywin know that it was not politically wise for him when he suggested it to your father who jumped at the chance to join houses with the Starks.

Every night she was gone you prayed for Catelyn’s return and your men’s safety so when you saw her arrive back at camp you began to thank them profusely. However, she returned with an extra man at her side. Or woman you should say.

Brienne of Tarth stood tall beside Catelyn, her hand always close to her sword. You were tending to the wounded when she arrived and did not have time to meet her just yet but as you gazed at her from across the camp you saw her eyes turn to you. when your eyes met you smiled and gave her a small wave. She was beautiful. Not in the typical sense you knew. But she was.

Robb was the one to tell you more about her. “Wait she was in his Kings guard? Like a knight?” You asked as you walked with your husband to the food area of your camp.

“Not a knight darling,” Robb had his hand linked with yours which kept your other free to wave to the Lords and soldiers who waved at you. even during war, they admired your elegance. “But she was his guard apparently. She beat Loras Tyrell in the tourney,”

“That couldn’t have been hard,” you joked, “that boy was all spindly legs when I saw him last,”

“He’s one of the best knights in the Kingdom,” Robbs laughed made your stomach flutter the same way it had the first night you met, “I don’t even know if I believe that she did,”

“I can believe it,”

“You see the good in everyone love,”

You snorted at his words as you took a bowl of stew from one of the men, “No,” you retorted as Robb got his own, raising an eyebrow at your words, “I just don’t announce my distrust to the world. Have I taught you noting?” you teased.

Robb rolled his eyes with a smile. You glanced over to where Brienne was sat alone and foodless. “You wanna go sit with her, don’t you?” he asked, and you nodded sheepishly, “Go on, make some friends,” Robb chuckled as he handed you another bowl of stew to give to the woman, “I’m gonna go eat with Lord Karstarks to talk battle plans,”

“Okay have fun, if that’s possible,” You grinned. Robb rolled his eyes before pressing a brief kiss to your lips and walking away.

You turned your attention to Brienne who was whitling a piece of wood with a knife. You smiled and nodded to all the men as you walked across the camp to where she sat on a log. “May I join you lady Brienne?” you smiled as you held out the bowl to her.

Brienne looked up quickly, her eyes wide, “It’s just Brienne. I’m no lady. I’m sure you would enjoy someone else’s company more your grace,” she said. You held the bowl out further his she finally took, “Thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” you said before sitting on the log beside her, Brienne looking at you as if she had three heads, “I thought your father was lord tarth?” you mused as you began to eat your stew, handing Brienne a spare spoon for hers.

Her eyes faltered between yours and the food, “Um he is,” she started as she turned her attention to stare into the camp, “I am a lady by birth right your grace but not by actions,”

“Life would be far more interesting if there were more ladies like you,”

“You don’t know me your grace,”

“Then what do I need to know?” you asked as you set your spoon down. “I’m all ears,”

Reluctantly Brienne began to tell you her life so far though not the personal bits of course. She told you how she found herself at Renly’s camp, how she fought for him, swore an oath to him, and became a king’s guard. You laughed at her stories, a genuine laugh that touched Brienne as you actually seemed to care. perhaps it was fake she thought. Perhaps that’s why people sang songs about you.

None the less she decided to enjoy your company at least for dinner, “It was about time someone knocked down Loras a leg or two. When I was eight, he spilled his father’s wine all down my dress because I told him his hair was ugly,”

Brienne couldn’t stop herself from laughing at your antics, “Maybe you shouldn’t have insulted him,”

“Oh, im sure he started it,” you joked as you set the now empty bowl on the ground, “if not him then it was defiantly Margaery. I refuse to accept it was my fault,” Normally Brienne would judge your words but the way you laughed made it clear unlike many you could handle a joke.

Something she appreciated as you laughed at hers. “I must say your grace you’re not what I expected from the songs,”

You groaned at her words, “Oh gods what do they sing about me over there?”

Brienne laughed at your fake agony, “Just the usual. That you’re beautiful and kind,”

“Have I offended you?” you joked turning to face her straight on, “Have I not been kind?”

Brienne flushed at your words, “Forgive me your grace. It’s just most Ladies I know aren’t as kind as you,”

“Or you,” you agreed, “Then again, I’ve never met another lady like you. it’s refreshing honestly. And for the record I hate those songs,” You confessed your longest running lie to a stranger, but Brienne moral code was stronger than the Starks.

“How can you hate being called beautiful?” she asked, and you could feel the resentment from her. the same feeling you got from many other ladies who would push you as a child or gossip about you as an adult.

You sighed as you placed your arms on your knees to lean forward, thinking before you spoke, “When Robb calls me beautiful I feel a warm feeling in me that spreads across me like a love struck plague,” you began, recalling the butterflies you had felt the first time he kissed your hand when you met. “The first time I heard one of those songs yes sure it made me feel good. Then I saw the way the lords would look at me. Then I heard what they sang and said when they thought I wasn’t around. They didn’t view me as a person,” you sighed as you recalled all the pervy comments and creepy stares.

“Im sorry you had to deal with that my lady,” Brienne placed her hand on your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

You turned your head to look at her and sat back up, “it’s not your fault. Besides everyone’s beautiful in their own way,” you mused.

Brienne barked out a laugh. “That’s where you’re wrong my lady,”

“You can find beauty everywhere. All you need to do is look,” you said as you looked out over the camp. “See him over there? With the dried blood covering his face?” you nodded towards one of the Karstarks boys and Brienne couldn’t help but noted how the battles must have harmed his face, “He has the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. Better than all the singers in Kingslanding and him,” you nodded towards another unassuming man by the fire, “Whittles these wooden figures that have so much detail and grace in every carving. Even him,” you nodded at the most closed off, grumpy one of your fighters who constantly looked ready to spit on someone, “has the biggest most beautiful smile when he laughs. Just because you can’t see the beauty at first glance doesn’t mean it’s not there,”

Brienne looked around the camp at all the different men and how they spoke, laughed, and moved. “Do you know all of your men?” she asked.

“I try to,” you answered as you took both your dirty dishes to take to be washed but one of your men stopped you to take them from you, “Thank you lord Umber,” you smiled at him before turning back to Brienne, “People respond far better to kindness than cruelness,”

“It’s a shame that most find it easier to be cruel than kind,” Brienne said as you both continued to walk around the camp. She enjoyed your company more than she’d like to admit.

You glanced to where Catelyn sat alone with her food in deep thought, “Hurt people hurt. While it does dismiss their actions it can help to explain them,”

“I suppose,” Brienne agreed, “But it’s hard not to hate them for it,”

“I know. trust me,” you said as you linked your arm with the woman who flinched initially at your touch. However, Brienne found comfort in the way you held her arm as you guided her around camp. “The sky’s so beautiful tonight,” you broke the comfortable silence.

“It is,” Brienne paused as she thought. She wanted to ask but worried you would think her weird. “Can you truly see the beauty in everything?” she asked. Brienne was mocked constantly growing up for her looks and how she acted. Men flinched when they saw her, but you looked at her with deep admiration.

“Everyone can. If they take the time,” you knew what she was thinking without her saying. You heard your own men mock her in the shadows and how they laughed. Some people were cruel, but you refused to be to those who had done nothing to deserve it. “I used to dream of knights as a child,” Brienne raised an eyebrow as you began your tangent. “Of how they rode their horses with such expertise and how they didn’t even have to look to know where their knife was about to strike. I used to admire their honour and their duty. Of course, I also dreamed about their armour and how imposing it made them look. I wanted to surround myself with them so that the men in their armour and imposing nature would protect me out of honour and morality.

Those dreams died the first time a knight made a pass at me at 14,” Brienne screwed her face up at the idea that anyone, any man, would dream of hurting you, “I remember how his head rolled off his body when my father executed him for it. so, I stopped dreaming of knights,” You stopped walking to turn to Brienne, taking her hands in yours. Your hands were soft and tender while hers were rough and scarred, “You however are the truest knight I have ever met. And that Brienne is far more beautiful than hair of black silk or just another pretty face. You’re the most handsome, beautiful knight I have ever laid my eyes upon so don’t let silly boys ruin what you see in the mirror,”

Tears lined Brienne eyes, but she had taught herself not to let them fall even when you gave her hands a gentle squeeze, “I am no knight my lady,”

“Not yet,” you said as you removed your hands from hers, “But when I am queen, I will make sure you are,”

Brienne had already sworn her loyalty to Renly but her king was dead and now she was stood before someone equally as kind as he had been to her, “You would make a fine queen your grace of the north or the south,” You smiled at her words, “But what of your brother?” she asked.

“That boy is the cruellest person I have ever met,” you said as you stared off into the distance, “He will only be beautiful when he is dead,”

Brienne had assumed by your appearance you knew nothing of politics and war but as she saw your jaw clench and your eyes gaze into the distance, she knew she had been wrong. The sound of her unsheathing her sword brought your attention back to her and you could hear the camp go silent at her actions. Your men’s hands flew to their own sword hilts as they watched her but relaxed slightly when Brienne went on one knee, holding her sword out to you, “It would be my honour to serve you your grace,” Brienne said, “As queen in the north and in the south,”

You smiled at her words, a genuine smile of love and compassion, “You honour me greatly Brienne of Tarth,” your hand came to rest on her shoulder, “When the war is won and Kingslanding has been saved and Ned Stark avenged I will have you knighted before the iron throne before the gods and the realm,”

Brienne looked up at you, her eyes wet with happy tears. You smiled down at her with love and sincerity, something even Renly’s eyes failed to offer at times. “A good day that’ll be your grace,”

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

HEIRESS OF FIRE AND BLOOD

Pt.1

I hope you like it

In 131 AC, a bloody war was fought between the divided Targaryen house, at the end of the war, the daughter of the previous queen Rheanyra took the throne, the girl tried to return the whole kingdom to peace and tranquility. Unfortunately, the peace that the new queen tried to establish did not last long, as the greedy eyes of a powerful man focused on this very planet. And Harkonnen always got what he wanted.

The kingdom was recovering from a bloody dragon war, and all eyes were on the new dragon queen, Learys Targaryen. The young, barely nine and ten -year-old girl has already proven herself as a strong leader of armies, but also as a protector of the innocent in the cities, which were attacked by the green armies. Although she was a beloved ruler and wanted queen, she did not smile unless she was in the presence of the rest of her family. She kept her brother and cousin close by her side, refusing to let them out of her sight. Many servants recall how the young Prince Aegon sought comfort in her arms when the night terrors seemed all too real, or when the queen was found braiding little Jeaheara's hair into an intricate hairdo which she then decorated with flowers, it was also a rare case, when even the little princess smiled. Although many advisors recommended that Jeaheara be taken away from Kingslanding, the queen retorted firmly that the house of the dragon would no longer be divided according to the past war and that she would not send a daughter to suffer for the sins of her father.,, Jeaheara is of my blood and will therefore remain by my side where she will be granted shelter and welcome.” announced the queen to settle the issue once and for all.

 The peace that the kingdom needed was disturbed by the arrival of three harkonnen warships, which like shooting stars fell to the surface of the planet, which the ruthless na-baron was tasked to conquering and adding to his uncle's empire.

"My queen," the guard rushed into the gardens and called for the queen, who was trying to convince her little listeners that she had really flown to the sun on her dragon. "What's the rush?" asked the queen with tension in her voice.,, Three harkonnen warships are approaching, lord hand wishes to discuss strategy in the throne room.",,Take the children to one of their rooms and keep them inside." she ordered in a commanding tone as she made her way to the throne room with her guards.

 Once seated on her throne, the Queen was presented with information that Harkonnens are about to land near Storms End, and that from the equipment they were carrying, it looked like they were ready for war.,, When will they land Grandsire” she asked her grandfather and the lord hand, Corlys Velaryon.,, Over the next three hours." the girl just nodded and then shouted at the guard.,, "Prepare my dragon." The guard just bowed down and rushed to fulfill his order.,, Your Grace you can't be serious, you can't..” began one of the lords but was immediately silenced.,,I am the queen, and as queen I will protect this kingdom with my life. My dragon is the fastest and strongest in the kingdom. We will end it with the Harkonnen as quickly as possible so that they do the least amount of damage and there is no one to change that because if they try to take this planet they will meet nothing but fire and blood.” the queen finished her battle speech.,, Now if excuse me my lords, I must go prepare for battle.” All the men in unison bowed to the departing woman and lowered their eyes to the floor in respect to her.

Learysa was fitting the last piece of her war riding armor when there was a knock on her chamber door. Thinking that it is her servant, the queen gives permission to come inside. What she didn't expect, however, was her brother with tears in his eyes. "What happened my sweet boy?" his sister asked him. Instead of words the young prince ran into her arms where he nestled like a little bird. "I don't want you to go, I don't want to lose you like the rest of our family ." Aegon cried. Learysa gently stroked his hair and whispered to him,, You will never lose me my little dragon, I will always come back to you, but right now I really need you to stay with Jeaheara and take care of her, would, you do this for me my brave knight.” The prince just snorts and nods. The siblings share a last moment before a servant comes in to say the dragon is ready.

 Feyd-rautha had just been informed that contact would be made with the planet's surface in ten minutes. He couldn't wait for his new blade to taste new blood. He looked forward to the conquest, war and bloodshed as he planned. There was no way the little princess who called herself queen would manage to get an army together. This planet was theirs. Just as his planning was peaking the ship landed and the na-baron rushed forward to start the whole thing. However, he did not expect that when the door of the ship opened, that the only one figure would be waiting for him. He didn't even count on the fact that he wouldn't be fighting against a princess or a queen, but against a fucking dragon.

[snowprincesa1]

{A Fool of A Brother (2/2)}

//Grown!Daemon x Grown!F!Arryn!Reader//

Summary: Daemon just cannot bring himself to let you go

[Trigger warnings‼️ contains NSFW and Daemon]

Daemon insisted that your presence was necessary in kingslanding, stating that it would be good for the Queen’s health.

“It would be excellent for her marriage prospects as well” Daemon said to king Viserys in the comfort of his bedchamber where he sculpted listening to his brother trying to convince him to keep you in the red keep them send you back.

“Daemon, Do you like the girl?” He asked aiming straight for the head. Daemon stayed quiet not knowing what to say or admit

“No. She’s far too different from me, we clash at every corner” he sighed. He later said it would be best to keep you by the queen’s side instead of rotting in the Vale with the painfully dry Vale men. Daemon had somehow managed to stall his marriage to Rhea Royce for even longer keeping the ‘bronze bitch’ in the vale single and unwed.

Daemon had grown much more taller whereas you remained the same height, he grew from a lean teenager to a muscled prince, now when Daemon takes you on walks with your hand resting on his arm you swear you feel muscle and it sends a shameful shiver of lust down your spine. Were you so easily swayed by a man who was both lean and had some muscle? You shook away thoughts of him. You remained relatively the same, gaining more of a womanly figure if anything. You still wore a light veil over the back of your hair with a jewelled headband at the front. You grew quite popular amongst the lords and ladies being unwed you had many eyes on you. You spent your days reading, praying, embroidering and talking with the ladies and being in the company of your sister. The red keep felt like home.

You were praying in a Sept finding a minute of peace when you heard familiar foot steps, you didn’t have to look back to tell who it is “Daemon, go away” You said your hands still clasped together as you tried to concentrate on your prayer. “Are you praying again?” He asked, Was it not obvious? You opened your eyes to send him a glare to which he responded with a cheeky smile. Her sat beside you watching you pray “are you done now?” He asked impatiently. You couldn’t pray with daemon breathing down your neck.

“What is it?” You snapped in irritation, Daemon remained unphased. “I have something for you” you groaned in response “If it is a toad again I will kill you”

“Threatening to murder the commander of the city watch and the prince of the seven kingdoms. You could never change” He smirked “You’re like a tree forever stuck in one spot until someone uproots you”

“If i am not mistaken a tree symbolises qualities like wisdom and stability” You retorted

“None of which you have” he quickly added before smiling smugly “turn around for me” He instructed. You hesitantly turned your back to him when you heard the sound of metal and suddenly felt cold steel at the base of your neck. “Valyrian steel” you gasped looking at the necklace “where did you get this—“

“I had it made for you. I cannot bear to see your neck so bare” he sighed dramatically. Oh yes, another aspect of daemon which came unexpectedly was his protectiveness over you. If your wore anything revealing he would keep an eye out for the lords, the guards, everyone! “You are the pervert, Daemon” You would laugh. He would accompany you everywhere if possible much to your annoyance. If you headed out? He would send his finest guard’s or accompany you himself to the seamstress,,, he said it was his duty as he was the one who took you from the sulking weather of the Vale, which you so happened to miss fondly.

You stayed in kingslanding for about six whole years, now a woman of twenty two and you somehow missed the Vale like a child, you missed your half brother Elys and the rest of your friends there. Your sister Aemma was going through hell losing babies over and over and giving birth to stillborns. You begged Viserys to let Aemma be but he said having a male heir is the duty of the king. Rhaenyra was growing up nicely, she being absolutely fond of you. The hand’s daughter Alicent visited the red keep as well, the two girls often following your trail and copying your mannerisms. Especially Alicent, who was also a devout follower of the faith.

Daemon was..Daemon, he carried out his commander duties brutally maiming almost half the city in a span of single night. Of course it was only the ones deserving of punishment who were tortured, Daemon had single-handedly lessened the crimes in Kings landing. He preferred to spend his night sleeping around with whores in the streets of silk. Daemon’s taste was peculiar, before he had met you he always preferred women with silver Valyrian hair. One night he saw a consort who had the same colour of your hair, not quite the same texture but the thought of you as bare as her sent blood rushing to his lower half. He shamelessly ended up fucking the woman from the back imagining your moans and cries instead of hers. He came with your name on his lips. It wasn’t the same, he wanted to know what you felt like, whether you would be a brat or submissive. Mysaria ended up dying her hair the same colour as yours for Daemon but nothing worked she could never get the prince to look away from you.

Daemon tried so hard to seduce you. His failed attempts were pitiful, you were dead set on following the proper traditions that is sharing a bed with a husband. Daemon could not understand how you managed to push him away? When thoughts of you had stayed in his mind throughout all his days and it was driving him mad. For some reason one day he ended up ‘hugging’ you from behind, in all honesty it was a tackle to annoy you. His head buried in your neck as he tried to keep you still and stop you from whatever the hell you were doing. The scent of you was too much for him, too sweet, now he knew what you smelt like upclose and he wanted more. The prince practically rushed out of the room to deal with his growing ‘problem’ that would keep him occupied for the rest of the day. Your relationship with Daemon was weird, you fought like cats and dogs but yet there’s no one else you would rather spend your time with. Hell you even missed him when he went away. Whenever Viserys was mad at Daemon you would put in a word and calm him down, it was very odd how soft you had grown for Daemon. And Aemma and viserys were not blind to it. Daemon would attend dinners you did and sit by your side, ‘accidentally’ grazing your hands reaching for a dish or passing you the wine. It was driving you insane, these little touches his rough hand gently touching yours, you were not blind to how handsome he had grown. The Gods would have to forgive you for lusting over a betrothed man.

The temptation Daemon posed over you, like a hanging fruit in sight but out of reach for you. He was doing it on purpose you knew, you weren’t daft but God did it work. You started growing jealous about the fact that Daemon spent his nights in brothels, complaining about how it wasn’t right and princely but deep down you were just bitter with jealousy.

Daemon always believed that he was immune to jealousy delusional but that was proved wrong for Rhaenyra’s seventh name day. It was decided that a tourney be held for the Realm’s Delight. Rhaenyra was a mischievous one, often teasing her uncle with you regardless of the lords and ladies in her presence and that set off even more rumours about the two of you, but no one dare say anything to you fearing the rage of Daemon and Caraxes.

You knew daemon was to participate for the tourney so you didn’t bother searching for him in the morning. He was undoubtedly practicing and you didn’t want to disturb him. You were to sit next to your sister Aemma but you suddenly saw a familiar face from the Vale, lords of the Vale had come to participate and bet on the winners. You looked at your sister in delight, it was she who planned this for you because she knew how much you had missed the Vale. You took your seat next to a minor Vale lord talking to him and catching up on all that had happened.

Daemon was watching from the stands as the squire put on his night black Targaryen armour. He looked to see you looking so beautiful in a light purple gown, looking so radiant in the sunlight and then he saw the disgusting man next to you and he saw red. Rhaenyra didn’t help either, she was visibly mocking Daemon motioning kissing signs between you and the lord enraging him even more. He knew you were unwed, he hoped you would not fall for some unknown lord of the Vale.

“You should come back to the Vale, you have spent far too much time here in kingslanding” your friend Gerald said

“I suppose that is true..almost seven years” you muttered “but I’ve been happy” you said looking at Daemon who was getting on his horse.

“You are a maiden of twenty two and still unwed, you should start living for yourself instead of just tending to the Royal family, I’m not saying it’s necessary to marry to be happy..but think of the long run” he said, Gerald cared for you and did not wish for you to be a spinster.

“I know Gerald” you sighed

“You have been waiting for him..but he is betrothed, to another” he said “come back to the Vale perhaps then you could come back to your senses” he said.

“What— prince Daemon? For the last time there is absolutely nothing going on—”

“That I know, and that is the problem. He’s not yours and you’re here all doe eyed waiting for him” you felt all the fire in your soul dampen at his words, the hopes and delusions you had been clinging onto desperately being pulled from beneath you “I did not mean to upset you”

“I’m not upset” you said blinking away tears. Perhaps Gerald was right..you certainly didn’t want him to be. You missed the Vale, a quick trip wouldn’t hurt. It would be rid of Daemon and you can think for yourself and come to your senses just like Gerald said.

“Gerald can I ask you for a favour?” You asked leaning in to tell him something to which he willingly agreed to.

Rhaenyra yelled something in high Valyrian mocking Daemon that made ser Harold have to gently escort her away from the stands. Away from the already fuming prince. What were you saying to that lord? He was upset with the lord and he was upset with you. He decided to get revenge he knew you would expect him to ask you for your favour like he did in the other tourneys but he decided to play with you a little. When riding his horse his lance stopped before you almost as though asking you for your favour, you were about to stand to give him it— when he suddenly tilted the lance towards another woman. The woman blushing gave him her favour willingly. Daemon’s looked at you smirking all the while as he felt as though he had the upper hand. Your face was a mixture of shock and jealousy.

Gerald leaned in “I told you” he said before your face completely fell in sadness. You looked away from daemon. Daemon should have relished seeing you upset like he did at that moment, but instead it tore him up in the inside. It was too late now, he would have to apologise for this he knew. Lord Gerald spent the rest of the tourney cheering you up and you even ended up giving your favour to a lord from the Vale itself, but of course he was upstaged by daemon’s battle skill. Daemon felt like he had lost seeing as to how you ignored him. When the tourney ended Daemon had won. He raised his lance in the air listening to the claps of the audience. He turned to look at you but saw that your seat was empty. You were now sitting back next to your sister telling her something, Aemma looked upset but seemed to agree nonetheless. The feast would be a perfect opportunity to try and make up for what he’d done, perhaps he could kiss your hurt better, he fantasised for himself as the squire took off his armour. How would your lips feel on his?. God forbid he sees you with that lord, he’d probably pull you away there and then and take you somewhere more private where just the two of you could spend time..but then again you’d never allow it. Daemon was surprisingly introverted, only ever trusting a few of his guards and his family and never bothered to converse with anyone else. You on the other hand though reserved, loved making conversation and talking to all the people. He thought more about you, a part of him felt smug over the fact that you were upset that he didn’t ask for your favour. Perhaps instead of apologising…he should tease you. Yes that would be much more preferable.

Daemon arrived late to the banquet, nothing unusual making his way into the hall stealing the attention from Viserys as usual. Rhaenyra was busy eating the lemon cakes, Daemon looked around he didn’t see you— anywhere for that matter? Were you so upset you were crying in your bedchambers? He should go see you and kiss your tears away if you let him of course.

He didn’t want to ask Viserys where you were, as the king already had doubts that he bore affections for you and he wanted to avoid providing his older brother more information on how he feels for you. Daemon slid his way to the dessert section where little Rhaenyra was, Rhaenyra looked up at her uncle with a smirk.

“Where is she?” He asked folding his arms

“With lord Gerar- Gerarld” she completely destroyed his name as she put a spoonful of cake in her mouth. Daemon couldn’t believe what this had come to, getting teased and mocked by his niece. He sends her a glare before taking the plate from little Rhaenyra as his pitiful sort of revenge. “That’s mine!” Rhaenyra yelled as he walked away.

He looked around to see Aemma and Viserys give him a look for taking a plate of cake from their seven year old daughter. She deserved it, he thought. He took a piece of cake eating it as he walked to his brother.

“Where’s the lady Arryn, she’s late” he said “I think you should let me discipline her for her tardiness..it’s unfitting for a lady like her” he said pulling a chair next to the married couple who he third wheeled. The Gods, Viserys and Aemma just wanted him to marry and go away at this point.

“Lady Arryn? I have no idea” Viserys said “and no you will assort no punishment of any sort” he said

Daemon looked to Queen Aemma who averted her gaze somewhere else “you know something regarding this, my queen?” He asked leaning on the table to intimidate her and get a response

“Don’t bother my wife..” Viserys sighed smoothening his scrunched up forehead.

“Does nobody in this fucking hall know where she is?!” He yelled causing the lords and ladies to look at his outburst. “Excuse me brother” he said leaving the banquet hall. He stormed out essentially. He was going to march up in your room but for some reason he had a bad feeling in his gut..why were you late? You were never late? The headache you caused him. He pushed open your bedchamber doors wide.

“You! Where have you been!” He asked “you didn’t congratulate me on my win or tend to me when I fell off my horse” he scolded you “what are you doing?” He asked with wide eyes, bags, packed bags. Your room was being emptied. “What is all this?” A handmaiden entered the room to take another bag wherever.

“I’m leaving Daemon” you said “is it not obvious?”

“No. No I will not allow it”

“I do not need YOUR PERMISSION and it’s already decided”

“What of your sister? What if she becomes with child again? She would need you by her side?”

“Daemon— she has maesters and—”

“What of Rhaenyra? The girl looks up to you! And you are just leaving like that!” Daemon sighed exasperated waking closer to you but still a distance apart

“I’m going to the Vale. I’m going home. You would not understand because you’ve lived here all your life! I miss home. I cannot be here any longer” Lie. You were running away because you could no longer wait around hoping that one day Daemon might cancel his betrothal and somehow marry you instead. Stupid dreams and fantasies.

‘Your home is here with us, with me’ is what Daemon wanted to say “you want to go to the Vale? Let us go on Caraxes!” He yelled

“I don’t want to!”

Daemon’s anger morphed into realisation.

“You don’t want to be around me” he said chuckling why else would you reject his excellent idea, who would give up a ride on a dragon? “Have I bothered you to the point you have to run away from me? When have you been such a craven!”

“Why shouldn’t I go!”

“I just told you the reasons!” Daemon yelled back “your sister! The queen! Your niece! Viserys!” His name being stuck at the back of his throat “maybe even me” he finally choked out as his hand went to reach for the valyrian necklace encircled around your neck. “You cannot even get rid of me entirely, you still wear my necklace like a collar”

“Maybe is not enough for me to stay!”

“Very well then, you want a reason to stay?” He asked now towering over your figure his nose almost touching yours “let me give you one”

He tilted your head upwards giving you a breath stealing kiss, his arms wrapping around your body holding you close to him. You kissed back with all the anger all the love you feel. “I cannot let you leave” he said in between kisses, the two of you barely parting for air. Daemon pushed you towards the bed “you and your stupid morals” he insulted kissing you deeply “you and your stubbornness” he said pressing his face in the crook of your neck. “You never know what’s best for you” his hands grabbing a hold of your thighs slapping the fat of it.

“And what is best for me?” You asked looking at him

“Staying here with me” he said his hand thumb sliding into your mouth your soft lips wrapping around his thick finger “suck” he ordered before switching his thumb for his index and ring finger. His fingers gagged you shutting you up, your mouth drooling from the intrusion. “I suppose a holy maiden such as yourself has never experienced pleasure? Tell me have you ever touched yourself?” You refused to answer the question “I suppose that is a no” Daemon smirked “Do you know what that means?” he asked pushing his hand under your skirts. You shook your head anticipating his next action

“It means that will be the first and last person to touch you here” he said his thumb pressing at your weeping entrance, your cunt clenching around nothing begging for more of his touch. His fingers spread the wetness around teasingly almost entering you making you gasp “Take off your gown for me and make it slow” he ordered taking his hand away from your needy parts. With shaky legs you stood unclasping your light purple gown letting it drop to the floor. Your mind filled with lust, what was one time? One time with the man you loved? Surely the Gods can find it in themselves to forgive you for your wanton nature.

“I said take it all off” he said motioning for you to take off your last small clothes leaving you bare and exposed in your bedchambers. The only thing that rested on your neck was the necklace he gifted you. Daemon rested on the bed with his legs spread his eyes looked at every part of you. Your neck, your chest, your tits, your ass, your legs, your cunny. It send jolts of pleasure down his body his dick hardened and a bulge forming in his breeches “Gevie” he muttered, this was better than what he had imagined. His hand reached out for you pulling you by the hips as he placed kisses on every part of your body in sight. He made sit on the bed, making you spread your legs for him showing him your leaking cunny. Before you knew it his hands were wrapped around your thighs and his head in your centre licking a strike of your entire cunt with his tongue. You tried to push yourself away at the foreign sensation but Daemon wasn’t having it. His hands preventing you from going any further away from him. He sucked on your clit watching you squirm and arch your back “Daemon” you moaned. You were in literal heaven. Why had you denied yourself of such pleasure. Daemon licked, sucked and kissed your cunt making you come twice on his tongue, your legs were shaking around his head as you begged saying you couldn’t any more. Daemon licked up all of your release before he pushed a finger inside your cunny, you gasped at the stretch, seeing you were adjusting to the feeling he added another finger, telling you to relax and enjoy the feel his tongue went back to work licking your poor little overstimulated pearl over and over your hole clenched tightly around his fingers he knew you were going to come again, his movements were fast and hard making you roll your eyes at the back of your head as you came hard all over his fingers. The bed soaked with your juices. Daemon’s face wet, he wore a devilish grin on his face. He climbed onto the bed pulling off his benches to show his recent thick length. Hell would that even fit inside you?

“Lie on your back” He ordered and you followed obediently Daemon hovered over you, you finally got what you wanted the sinful proximity between the two of you. His hands intertwined with yours as he distracted you by kissing your lips passionately. You felt him enter, he was so much bigger and he pushed himself in slowly “breathe, my love” he said before pinching your tits hard causing you to gasp. He slid in fully. You couldn’t keep your eyes open, your arms still being held by daemon who now pinned them over your head. The stretch of his full cock in your walls, breaking your maidenhead he let you experience the burn, the pain, the pleasure all together. Daemon let out a moan as he felt you clench around him tightly. This was what he always dreamt about. What he always wanted. You.

Daemon had been patient enough, his slow and firm thrusts quickening. Every thrust hammering your insides as your tits bounced, Daemon was enchanted. He help your hips tightly pounding into you even reaching further, making your back arch and you begged Daemon to let you touch him. Daemon, Daemon, Daemon. The only thoughts that ran in your head as he kissed you his tongue finding it’s way into your mouth as he pounded into you. He let out little moans as he pressed his forehead against yours. As he made love to you. The moment he saw your jaw go slack, he knew you were close. He kept his rhythm steady feeling your orgasm release all over him and the sheets. He left you whimpering underwing him from the overstimulation “good girl” he said plopping on the bed his cock still erect and heavy “can you ride a dragon?” He said leaning on the headboard. You wanted to please him nodding as you straddled his hips pressing the head of his cock into your entrance as you lowered yourself onto him. The position made your toes curl, the way you sunk onto him and lifted yourself over and over. Daemon couldn’t help but watch how your slick pussy gushed all over his cock. His moans increased as he felt his eyebrows press together, he held your hips tightly thrusting harshly into you, it was too much for Daemon, he could no longer hold back he released his hot seed in the walls of your tight cunny, your cum from your fifth orgasm oozed out. White sticky fluids from your puffy folds. Daemon had seen no better art piece, you would be a muse for any artist.

You lay on top of daemon who stroked the back of your hair “you were perfect. You are perfect.” he smiled his dimples showing. You were breathless, tired, exhausted passing into unconsciousness. Daemon chuckled wrapping his arms around you. You were his. And he was going to go to hell and back if he was denied you.

Daemon had ordered for all your clothes to be moved into his bedchamber, he told lord Gerald that you had no intention to leave kingslanding as you were to marry him. The whispers between the servants reached the ears of Viserys thanks to his hand Otto Hightower.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING DAEMON!” He yelled at his younger brother who was making arrangements for you in his room “you have dishonoured her! And you take no effort to even hide the fact!”

“I have every intention to wed her, brother” Daemon said rolling his eyes at the king.

“you are betrothed to ANOTHER” Viserys’ blood boiled. How could he have done such a thing to his own family to you! When he knew damn well he was meant to wed another.

“Another who is not of my choosing!” Daemon said to his brother losing his patience.

“The marriage pact with Rhea was settled years ago! We cannot go against our word” he argued

“You are the king, the blood of the dragon runs in you. You do not need anyone’s permission! Your word is the law, the truth”

“Daemon, I have spent a life time defending you! But your heart is even blacker than I thought”

“Wed her to me..I want to marry Lady Arryn”

“You think I don’t know that, you fool?! But you have wronged lady Rhea! Kept her waiting for years!”

“I have bedded her already brother. It is done. It is decided” Daemon said

Viserys slapped him across the face for his insolent behaviour.

“Tell me brother..” Daemon said holding his cheek pressing on the hurt part of his face. It didn’t hurt at all he just wanted to get some sympathy from Viserys “what of how you wronged y/n” he chuckled “when you passed her over for her younger sister”

“That was different!” He thundered at the accusation thrown by Daemon

“Make it right, wed her to me. I’ll take her as she is and wed her in the tradition of our house. Give me Y/n to take to wife and we will return the house of the dragon to its proper glory” he said almost begging his brother.

It was no secret that Daemon and you had strong chemistry, Viserys and his wife Aemma often joking about making a mistake betrothing Rhea to him instead of you. He supposed he always expected his younger brother to pull this sort of move. And he unfortunately had a very good point, you were passed off for your younger sister which was an insult by itself, being rejected by the king.

“Fine, I will allow this marriage to take place, but just know that it is not for you but instead Lady Arryn” he sighed. “And I don’t want to hear any complaint from now onwards? You will obey my every command henceforth if you are to marry lady Arryn” daemon would definitely do as he pleases, but he nods hugging his brother “you were always weak when it comes to me, brother” he smirked looking at his brother. “Showing empathy is weak now?” Viserys smiled patting Daemon’s shoulders. “Are you sure marriage is what you desire?”

“Marriage matters to me when it is with her..” he smiled “I am serious about her brother.”

“I will talk to the Royce’s and make it up to them somehow” he said “how excited was she when you proposed?”

“Oh I didn’t propose” Viserys wanted to chuck Daemon out of the window. This whole argument when you hadn’t even consented to the marriage “DAEMON!”

“She’s asleep brother. You cannot expect me to disturb her!” Viserys at that moment wanted to put down his crown and run away to Essos. How much more of his brother’s idiocy could he handle? Well anyways he’s your problem now.

Needless to say the marriage took place swiftly thanks to Daemon’s groomzilla tendencies. The man wanted the wedding to be private between only the families. You were more than happy to comply. Daemon and you still didn’t cease your nonsensical arguments, now finding new ways of letting out that anger and love in bed together.

Daemon wasn’t a perfect husband, he was irrational, emotional, pessimistic, but he stayed the loyalest of all the husbands in Westeros stopping all his trips to the streets of silk rather spending them with you, the woman he loved so dearly. With each passing year Daemon grew even more mature with the birth of your first child a baby girl who you both named Baela who inherited that fire and passion of your husband who was also spoiled rotten by him with gifts.

Daemon proved to be the best husband you could have ever asked. You would always remember to tell him that when he took you for rides on his dragon Caraxes and whispered sweet promises to you. You had no doubt about it, marrying him was the best decision he had ever made for you. You knew he would put his life on the line for you or Baela if need be, he was your fiercest protector.

“Did I ever mention I love you?” You asked looking to your husband as you both flew on Caraxes. Daemon knew you often felt like you under appreciated him when you really did love him.

“More times than I can count” he chuckled kissing your cheek

“Perhaps I should stop then, I can’t have you growing indifferent to my love”

“If you do anything of the sort, just know that I cannot promise you that I will not exact revenge” he smiled kissing the top of your head.

“And what revenge would you take against me, your wife?” You asked smiling back

“I will teach Baela cuss words” he said smirking triumphantly.

“DAEMON DON’T YOU DARE!”

[mememachine132]

@syndrossi

So, I made some Jon and Rhaegar designs, for future fanart purposes. As a prerequisite I'm going to need everyone here to agree that these look like 8 year olds. We're making this an AU where this is what 8 year olds look like. An AU where I can draw 8 year olds, even. Look I tried my best, they look youngish. Tweens, teens, close enough yeah? How does one draw a child. help

Give a big props to Costumes/Seven Kingdoms | Wiki of Westeros | Fandom for helping me give them region accurate clothes.

Some notes:

Neither of them being in their favorite colors because they pretty much just got given hand me downs.

Jon gets more bird motif - wing shaped cloak, bird embroidery - since Rhea saw more of her house in him/he looks more vale like. Rhaegar gets some, with the long flowy cloak, but it's half-assed. There is not a single way to pretend that boy is not a Targaryen.

Jon still dresses like its winter - you will not see him in shorts ever. No human alive has ever seen his legs. Rhaegar on the other hand wears lighter stuff, since he grew up in Kingslanding and that would be what he's used to.

I was going to do the dragon headed tunics for this, but then I realized that would require drawing tiny little Targaryen emblems and I thought I wouldn't survive that.

Jon looking very knightly + everything but the cloak would be very easy to fight in. Easy to rip that off and get to killin for his brother.

Rhaegar having the open sleeves of the vale still, like how he still feels Raymar in there/is still grieving while Jon has moved entirely on with no more vale fashion.

Long hair!! Whipee!!

Both of them wearing a more modern Targ style - based off of Viserys (Dany's viserys not old man viserys) in s1 to reflect some of their modern sensibilities.

Jon wears a lot, and I mean a lot of leather. The vest? Leather. The undershirt? Leather. Cloak is heavy wool. He wouldn't feel like himself if he wasn't lugging around a mountain of heavy, winter worthy fabrics. Rhaegar on the other hand has much lighter clothes, more flowy. Some jewelry too. So pretty much Jon is roasting in Kingslanding heat and Rhaegar is living his very best ventilated silk life.

(Rhaegar's outfit is probably gonna get tweaked as it feels too simple. Not nearly enough pizzaz thrusted upon him by Daemon trying to make up for the years spent in the 'simple' clothing of the vale.)

I'll probably make some more outfits for them eventually - definitely if they go other places! I really enjoyed analyzing different regional styles and incorporating that. Someday I might even make those dreaded dragon headed tunics.

[spacelatinoluvr]

blood runs thicker than water (1/?) - aemond targaryen

series masterlist, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6

summary: To dance with dragons is to play with wolves. After surviving her own assassination attempt, Alarra Stark endured a large scar across her face, slicing her face in half. For years after Alarra was now known as "Alarra The Fierce" due to her ferocity at the young age, defending herself valiantly at merely thirteen-years-old. After then, she spent years training with her older brother, Cregan Stark, so that one day she could avoid the pain and suffering of anyone in her family; including herself. But, after those years spent training with men much larger than her, she is sent away and betrothed to Joffrey Velaryon for alliance towards the rightful heir to the Iron Throne: Rhaenyra Targaryen. Accompanying the family to Kingslanding, Alarra realized maybe marrying the young Velaryon boy wasn't so awful. But that was until she met a peculiar "one-eyed" prince. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Stark!OC word count: 5.3k tags: slow burn, forbidden love, canon Aemond, enemies to lovers, long fic, original characters, war, arranged marriage warnings: blood and gore, extreme violence rating: 18+, !MDNI!

LITTLE FLAME

Alarra Stark was truly the most elegant in all of the North.

As a girl, Alarra was known for her beauty. Even amongst the seven kingdoms, her beauty was spoken of in hushed whispers amongst all that witnessed her: as if she were a myth or story to be proven false. Those who encountered her never second guessed her alluring blue eyes, like staring into the deep blue of The Narrow Sea. Her long red hair, always braided away from her face, displaying her breathtaking features. Freckles adorned her youthful face, like a painter had splattered brown specs across her face. Even though Alarra’s beauty was now a fact, not a myth among the inhabitants of Westeros, the people of the North had always remained in awe at the princess’s beauty. And through the years, her hair was the thing they remembered the most. Her long, thick red curly hair, that always blew in the wind as if the God’s were doing it with purpose. And when winter came, Alarra’s beauty flourished.

In all her years, the Seven had only blessed her with one winter. It lasted two years of Alarra’s youth, and she always remembered the feeling of her nose turning into a frozen nub, her cheeks pink and rosy as the air grew colder and bit at her skin. She remembered her and her brother playing in the harsh winter cold, throwing snow and laughing as their father yelled at them to get inside before they caught a cold. She remembered the good.

Winter is coming, she remembered her father spewing as he drank the sweetest wine of the Arbor.

Winter is coming, she remembered Cregan saying as he groomed the horses with her.

Winter is coming, she would repeat, as she held her head high and proud. Like a true Stark.

When winter did come, and the days got longer, it was brutal. But, Alarra found it tranquil; she found the beauty in the most unearthly things.

And that would ensue to be her downfall.

“Give it back!” Eight-year-old Alarra screamed as her older brother, Cregan, stole her knife made of wood hanging it teasingly above her head.

“Do you even know how to hold one of these properly?” Cregan tilted his head to the side, the question hanging in the air.

Silence.

And that was all Cregan needed before he smirked and waved the knife around once more. Alarra resumed her jumping, unable to grab the knife from her brother. Cregan had freshly turned one and three, and was now much much taller than Alarra. He seemed to like flaunting it.

“Cregan!” Alarra yelled, stopping her continuous jumping. Cregan paused his waving to let out a laugh.

“Here, let me show you…” Cregan motioned for Alarra to get closer and she did, a sour expression still on her face. Cregan paused, crouching down on her level.

“Now this here is the blade… see?” Cregan traced the pointy part of the wooden knife. Alarra’s expression then changed from glum to one of immense interest.

“And this… is the handle, you put your hand here- and don't hold it like you're holding a firefly-” Cregan then held Alarra’s hands guiding her to how to properly hold a real dagger. Alarra held the wooden dagger, stealing it from Cregan’s hands with a triumphant hum.

“And now my prince I must defend myself…” Alarra said, holding her head high, the dagger above her head. She slowly let the dagger fall, reaching the heart of Cregan Stark, twisting and making squelching noises as she went. Cregan groaned, falling to the ground, a tongue out of his mouth for great measure. Alarra giggled lightly, still clutching the dagger in her hand. But, as Alarra looked at Cregan, he had stopped moving, his eyes closed in bliss as he laid on the ground.

“Cregan?” Alarra got down on his level, sitting by his head, worry etched on her features. Cregan was always there for Alarra and she couldn't remember a time when they were not together. Being apart from him was like stealing the moon from the sun. She could not bear it. But, then all of a sudden, Cregan let out a roar, making Alarra squawk and jump backwards.

“Cregan! That’s not funny. I truly thought I had pierced your heart!” Cregan laughed loudly at this. How could his kind little sister hurt him?

“Oh.. with that?” Cregan questioned, still laughing. Alarra reached towards him, hitting him on the arm, making him let out a loud noise in protest.

“I'm telling father!” Alarra exclaimed, standing quickly and running out of the room. The large doors closed behind her as she ran out, through the garden outside and up the large stairs towards her fathers chambers. But, when she arrived, guards and servants were frantically running around, in and out of his chambers. A guard ran past Alarra almost running her over and she gasped, clutching her chest. A hand was then placed on her shoulder, making her turn around quickly.

“My lady…” Alarra’s handmaiden, Eyla, was staring at her with concern.

“You should not be here- where is your brother?” Alarra glanced behind the handmaiden to see Cregan, face grim and hard, approaching her.

“Cregan, what's going on?” Cregan ignored her, continuing his path towards their father’s chambers. Alarra followed closely behind, ignoring the protests of her handmaiden.

Two guards were posted outside of the chambers, frantically scanning Cregan, proud and tall and Alarra’s frame, meek and small. Cregan had said something to the guard but Alarra was not listening because only the worst scenarios had started to display in her mind. Then suddenly, Cregan barged past the two guards, opening the chamber doors with immense force. Alarra followed shortly behind him, her hands clutched tightly in front of her.

Cregan seemed to have a mind of his own, walking towards the large bed across the room. The maester stood by the bed, seeming to be speaking to their father. At the sight of that, Cregan’s shoulders visibly lowered tension leaving his back.

The room smelled old; like dusty books or an old library. Alarra paused her movements when she got to the edge of the bed, and Cregan walked towards the maester.

“What's happened, Maester?” Cregan asked, standing next to him. The maester’s expression dropped, turning to face Cregan.

“Please sit, my lord.” Cregan paused, looking behind his shoulder at Alarra.

“Leave us.”

“But, my lord-”

“I said: leave us.” Cregan bellowed, staring at his father lying on the bed, unmoving.

The maester bowed silently, shuffling out of the room, his quiet footsteps echoing around them.

A cough, sounding like the last gasp of a ghoul, carried through the room and Cregan instantly moved to sit beside their father. Alarra stayed at the edge of the bed, now able to see her fathers deathly pale face. Her father was an alabaster statue, as if he was frozen in time and breath. Another cough rang, and Alarra could visibly see the strain it left on her father.

“My boy…” He whispered, turning to Cregan.

“Father what-”

“No, Cregan you mustn't speak. Listen to me.”

Cregan stopped, like he was holding his breath waiting for father to speak.

“You are my heir. The Lord of Winterfell in a moon’s set-”

“Father-” Cregan protested, his voice cracking.

“Let me finish, please,” Their father started, breathing heavily. Cregan swallowed down his words, nodding.

“You are my boy. My heir, my only boy,” He paused to take a breath.

“You will be the Lord of Winterfell. You will be the King of the North, do you hear me?” Father said, more sternly this time. Cregan had become quiet and still before he spoke again.

“Yes, Father. I-”

“Protect her. Always. I will be right beside you.”

“Always.”

“You will see me again. Whether it’s in the wind whistling the trees before bed or under the dirt, you will see me again, my son.” Their father grasped Cregan’s hand, tightly holding it as best as he could in his weak grip.

“Alarra,” Cregan whispered, turning his head to meet her eyes.

Alarra was standing quietly at the edge of the bed still, her eyes red and she was gasping quietly as she cried. Her father put his hand out, calling her to him. Alarra ran to her father’s side of the bed, getting on her knees beside Cregan.

“Father…” She weeped, eyes wet and cheeks red.

“My firecracker…” Her father said, reaching a hand to her face, using his thumb to wipe a tear away. His hand shook as he rose it, using all of his remaining power. Alarra sniffled her nose running now as she let her tears flow. Cregan put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly.

“Alarra Stark, you will always be a firecracker. Don’t you ever let anyone stop you. No boy, no prince, no scary spider wanting to bite you!” Her father smiled, as Alarra laughed through her sob. Her father started to cough again, this time into a white rag. The cough was more violent, and the lord’s eyes were red and bloodshot. But, it was not from crying.

“When you were still a babe, your mother would say you had not cried once when you came into this world. Into our arms. A babe, silent as the night sky but the stars could not compare to your beauty, my love.” Alarra smiled as best as she could manage through the tears.

“My flourishing flower,” He whispered, grasping her cheek. “You are a true vision of your mother.”

“But, promise me one thing,” He started to say, coughing as he spoke. Alarra’s eyes were glued to her father, as he smiled with love for his children.

“Promise me that you will be true.” He spoke in a hushed tone, eyes glossed over with endearment.

“I promise.” She said, her head held high, lip quivering. I promise that I will always remain a true Stark. And no one, not a boy, a man, or a creature will stop me.

Rickon Stark smiled, glancing at both of his children, a Stark’s visionary.

“You must shine bright my little flame…no matter how small you feel, always shine bright.”

And that is exactly what Alarra did.

On Alarra’s one and three name day, she had begun her path to womanhood. And that path to womanhood had skewed into a path of knighthood.

Alarra had awoken early that morning, before the birds were chirping and the sun began to stream into her room. She was ecstatic. Today she was to be a woman.

“Eyla?” Alarra was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting her dress. She was wearing something new, something that she wasn’t used to. She didn’t realize how much her…chest had seemed to grow overnight. Or at least it felt like that to her.

“Yes, my lady?” Eyla was bent down on the ground, fanning Alarra’s dark blue dress around her.

“How do you know you're truly a woman?” She asked meekly, as Eyla stood wiping her hands on her legs.

“Well that’s up to you, my lady. You choose what makes you feel like a woman.” Eyla stated.

“How did you know?” Alarra questioned, playing with her fingers. Eyla smiled, still looking at the ground.

“When I was ten, I bled in the night. And my mother threw me out, telling me I was a woman and I could fend for myself. But, I didn't feel like a woman. I was still a child. It wasn't until I was one and five that I knew that women have power. More than a man ever will.”

“I haven't bled yet and-”

“My lady, enjoy it. Bleeding is not a celebration.” Eyla wrapped an arm around Alarra, stroking her arm.

“Then why do people rejoice at the sight of it?”

“Because men’s heads are hollow, my lady.” Eyla clasped her hands together.

“Now, let me see your dress! How beautiful you look.” Eyla looked Alarra up and down, scanning her. Alarra’s cheeks turned red and she laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Thank you, Eyla.” Alarra whispered, smiling at the ground, putting her hands on her cheeks. Bashful as a rabbit.

“Since you are one and three, let me teach you a lesson.” Alarra groaned, dropping her hands from her face.

“A lesson. It’s my name day!”

“It’s fun, trust me my lady.” Eyla smirked at Alarra, and turned her so she was facing the mirror again, Eyla behind her.

“Women have something men don’t…” Elya started, stopping behind Alarra, looking at her through the mirror.

“We can speak with our very eyes.” She whispered, clutching Alarra between her hands, grasping at her shoulders.

“How so?” Alarra questioned, eyebrows furrowed into a line.

“Men cannot help but express their emotions,” Eyla said, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. “It is in their blood.”

Alarra’s eyes watched her handmaiden through the mirror, waiting for her to speak again. Eyla stepped next to Alarra, still looking at her through the mirror.

“Watch my eyes…” Alarra nodded quickly. Eyla’s eyes were wide and doe-like at first; like large brown deer pupils. But, just as fast her eyes darkened, a seductive look on her face. Eyla then returned her gaze back to a more tame and blissful look. Eyla smiled at Alarra through the mirror, moving to stand behind her again, before speaking.

“As women we must use our… assets to our advantage.” Eyla pushed her hand between Alarra’s shoulder blades, and Alarra subconsciously bound her chest out.

“Assets?” Alarra blurted out, uncertainty in her voice.

“Our bosoms of course!” Eyla then chuckled at Alarra’s red face.

“You know what a breast is-”

“Yes, I know,” Alarra huffed, slightly annoyed. “I'm not a child anymore. I am one and three!”

“And what a special age that is, my lady.” Eyla grinned at Alarra through the mirror again, putting both her hands on her shoulders and squeezing.

“I trust the Gods will treat you well this year.” But, Eyla had been wrong. And the Gods’ had punished her that year.

Throughout the day, Alarra had been rained with compliments on her new attire. How grown she looked in blue. How her eyes popped, the blue more prominent, in this dress. Her brother had gotten her a gift, and sat with her in the garden, as the sun was starting to set.

Cregan pulled the gift from behind his back. It was long and pointy and covered in a white cloth.

“Open it.” He said handing it to her. Alarra slowly slid the cloth off to reveal a long slender dagger. Alarra gasped, feeling its hilt and tracing her fingers along the dull side of the blade.

“This is Valyrian steel- how did you-”

“The Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch gave it to me… I feel better acquainted with a sword than a tiny knife.” Cregan’s eyes had creased as he flashes Alarra a thin-lipped smile. He seemed nervous and he was visibly fidgeting with his hands; something Alarra regularly did when she was uncertain.

Then, Alarra jumped pulling Cregan into a tight hug. Cregan let out a groan at the harshness (his shoulders were sore from training maliciously), but wrapped his arms around her small frame regardless .

“Thank you.” She whispered, as he tightened his grip on his little sister, his arms almost engulfing her whole.

“I'll teach you how to use it properly, now that this one isn't wooden.” He said teasingly, as she pulled away from him her hands still on his shoulders.

“I promise not to pierce your heart.” She giggled after her statement, taking her hands away from Cregan’s broad frame.

“Now that is true Valyrian steel. Keep it wrapped in the cloth until tomorrow. I don’t want you to cut yourself.”

That night, while Alarra lay in bed, still awake deep into the Castle’s slumber, she laid next to her new friend: the dagger of Valyrian steel. The dagger was sitting next to her, on the thin white bed sheets and Alarra couldn't help but admire its craftsmanship-

Wind blew through the window, the white curtains waving in the soft breeze, and she held her breath. But Alarra had not left the window open. In fact, she specifically remembered closing them. Alarra briskly sat up, looking around the room, scanning for something out of place.

“You're supposed to be asleep.” A low, deep voice rang through her quiet room and Alarra jumped, opening her lips to scream. But, a hand wrapped around her mouth, shoveling her cries down her throat. She wept and wept, kicking and waving her hands above her head as a man, whose face she couldn't see masked by a black cloth, put a knife to her throat. She squirmed, but stopped when the cool metal of the dagger was at her throat.

“Stop. Moving.” He gritted out. Alarra could feel the shake of his hand, a sign he was either nervous or very close to slitting her throat. Alarra screamed loudly in his sweaty palm, as she slashed with her fingers at his face. Her fingers caught his skin, and he let out a groan, covering his left eye.

“You bitch-” He grumbled moving towards her again, but she put her arms out in front of her, speaking for the first time.

“You have about five seconds to kill me before the guards find you… 5, 4-” The man yelled as he slashed at her but she moved slightly, so he'd miss his dagger going into her feather pillow. Alarra rolled off the bed, grabbing her own dagger as she did, staring at the man across from her. Then, her vision got blurry and- red? Alarra groaned as she lifted her hand to her face, red blood covered her sight and hand, smelling the metallic. She laughed, looking up at the man that was now staring at her. His dagger tightly clutched in his hand.

“You nicked me…” Alarra huffed in disbelief, staring at the blood on her hand. Suddenly, the man launched forward across the bed, yelling as he crawled across the bed reaching her. Alarra gasped, dropping the dagger as he pushed her against the wall, choking her throat with his hand. Alarra coughed, hitting his hand, over and over again but he didn't budge. He was strong, stronger than a thirteen-year-old girl, but not skilled. He was messy, and seemed to be running on his anger and not his strategy. Alarra had noticed how he was still shaking, and he breathed heavily squeezing tightly on her throat. Now, Alarra could no longer breathe and she let out short gasps of air.

The man had made a mistake. He was facing her, his lower area facing her in the perfect position- and she kicked, hard, at his prized jewels. He released her, falling to his knees in agony, groaning and moaning. Alarra fell to the ground, coughing violently. She held her chest, looking around for the dagger- her dagger. The dagger was still on the ground and she grabbed it quickly.

“Cunt!” He screamed, and he opened his mouth again to yell but before he could, a dagger positioned itself between his eyes, and blood curdled slowly, covering both his eyes like tears. He was crying blood. She pulled the dagger out, letting a sob fall out from her pink lips. Alarra screamed as she let the dagger hit his skull again, cracking through skin and bone. And she slashed down again and again and again until his body was limp against the bed frame. Alarra straddled his unmoving waist, letting her dagger fall on his face again until his eyes were red holes and his face was spotted in cuts. And now, it wasn't only her own blood that covered her but one of the armed man.

I will always remain a true Stark. And no one, not a boy, a man, or a creature will stop me.

And she kept hitting until hands reached around hers, and she screamed, fighting the person behind her. Her brother had to pull her off of the man, his face now mutilated and unrecognizable.

“It’s me, Alarra.” Her brother whispered, and she dropped to her knees on the ground as he swept her into a hug. Alarra let out a cry of relief as she smelled the musk of her older brother. And she was safe. Cregan held her that night, until morning came, as she cried and the guards took away the disfigured body of the unknown man.

The next day, Alarra bathed until her fingers turned to prunes and the water was ice cold. Her handmaid told her that the water would leave her with a runny nose but she never felt clean. She scrubbed herself until she was raw, like a newborn babe. But she still saw the blood; the way his face felt soft and slick after stabbing it so many times, the way she felt him die beneath her, the way she had almost died, the way she had beat the clutches of death. She escaped the hands of the Seven.

Alarra demanded that her brother teach her how to protect herself, for there would be a time when he would not be there to keep her safe. Alarra was already learning hand-by-hand combat and archery, but decided to focus solely on her swordsmanship. Soon enough, Alarra was a growing prodigy. Courtesy of her older brother of course, but a prodigy nonetheless. Death from the Mother above taught Alarra how to preserve, how to push herself. After beating death, Alarra became a beautiful yet valiant knight with no title to claim.

The first time Alarra looked at her face she wept. She wept for hours. Her face was ruined. A princess with a scar. And it wasn't minuscule. It wasn't a small scar, it was a ginormous line running from the top of her forehead, to the bottom of her chin. Instead of whispers of her heavenly beauty or her hair, they were now filled with whispers of the girl that defeated death. Whispers of the princess with a slash. Whispers of a killer: a savage. Whispers now contained a new nickname, one Alarra was proud to coin.

They called her, Alarra the Fierce.

“Alarra you must not attack your opponent with your sword- lead with your legs- yes just like that!”

Alarra was now freshly one and five, and through two years her swordsmanship had increased and her level of fighting was, as Cregan liked to put it, incredible. The sound of their swords clashing against the other echoed through the training room, and the castle’s staff walked in and out and about the halls but not before glancing at the pair. Both were breathing heavily before Cregan laughed, losing his balance a little at Alarra’s push. Alarra let her guard down before she eventually fell backwards, the tip of Cregan’s sword at her neck.

“You lost focus. And when your life's on the line, will you lose focus then?” Alarra scoffed from the ground as Cregan held his hand out to her. She took it, begrudgingly, and stood next to him. Alarra bit her lip, taking her gloves off before throwing them harshly on the ground.

“I thought you were going to fall-”

“Excuses.” Alarra let out a loud sigh, shaking her head. Both of the siblings removed their armor, before exiting the training hall. One thing about Alarra was that she was stubborn. Whenever she messed up she vowed to never make the same mistake twice. They walked in silence, comfortable silence, until two servants passed them, whispering to each other, their heads low. Alarra caught the last bits of their conversation and realized they were talking about her.

“They whisper as I pass them, brother.”

“Let them. It means they are fearful. And fear will only take you far in this world.” Cregan’s strides were wide but Alarra was able to keep up with him, walking next to his now manly body.

“And what if I don't want people to fear me?”

“Would you rather them love you? Admire you?”

“Yes! I very much would.” Cregan stopped walking, and turned his head to look at Alarra. Her hair was loosely tied into a braid that had been falling out due to their training.

“I want people to love me like they did father. I want them to admire me not… “ Cregan stared at her as she looked beyond him at another passing servant, who hurriedly walked past them. “The first thing they see is this.” Alarra pointed at her scar.

“The first thing they see is your face.” Cregan smirked, crossing his arms.

“No I mean- I only mean that they think I'm some savage.”

“You are Alarra the Fierce, are you not?”

“Yes, but-”

“That name was given to you. You earned it. Don’t let the opinions of others dictate how you carry that name. Embrace it. You are Alarra the Fierce. You are The Princess that Lived. People respect you because of that, and fear is just the outcome of deep honor,” Cregan paused to gather his thoughts.

“Respect is something to be earned, and you earned it the day you were born. You have always been Alarra the Fierce…it was just a matter of when you would realize it.” Cregan then pulled Alarra into a deep hug, smelling like sweat and dirt. Alarra scrunched her nose, as Cregan pushed away from her.

“And Alarra the Fierce smells like she needs a bath.”

The raven had arrived in the morning, calling upon Cregan Stark to visit Dragonstone. The letter had no details that Alarra knew of, and she had remained curious until the day of his departure.

“Can I please come? I hear Jacaerys Velaryon is one of the most handsome in the realm.” Alarra started biting her lip, knowing she'd get a rise out of her older brother. Cregan stopped walking to turn to her, a piece of hair over his right eye.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

Alarra sighed, kicking at the grass on the ground.

“And why not?” She asked quietly, still walking closely behind him.

“Because I said so, Alarra.” Cregan said sternly this time and Alarra huffed, rolling her blue eyes that contrasted from her brothers hazel ones. “You are not coming to Dragonstone with me. Have I made myself clear?”

“I am not a child.”

“Yet you act like one, no?”

Alarra bit her cheek, staring at the ground. She was now one and six, slightly annoyed that her older brother always teased her of her age.

“I have never left the North-.”

“Alarra you know why-”

“Yes, yes you vowed to protect me. But, you know damn well I can protect myself.” Alarra spat, walking towards Cregan.

“If I have the ability to protect you, I would do it over again if it means you are safe. I do not care how angry you are at me, as long as you are breathing.” Cregan stepped towards her, as much as he was annoyed, and left a kiss on the top of her head whilst pulling her into a half-hug.

“Cregan-” Cregan stepped away from her and started walking backwards.

“I will see you in two moons. Ser Wildrow will be with you when I am not.”

“Cregan-!”

And Cregan turned, stomping towards a carriage and disappearing beyond the wall.

Prick.

Two moons had come and gone, and all Alarra had done was train with Ser Wildrow. As much as Ser Wildrow didn't want to admit- he knew Alarra was just as skilled as her older brother. But, there was something different. Something in her eyes that shined. Everytime she had the upper hand her eyes gleamed, a frightening look overtaking her soft feminine features.

“I yield!” Ser Wildrow shouted, breathing heavily as his knees buckled under Alarra’s push.

“Your age is showing, Ser.” Alarra smirked as she started to take off her armor. Though Ser Wildrow wasn’t very old, not much older than her father would've been, she still enjoyed teasing the man.

Ser Wildrow was still on the ground, gradually standing.

“And you just seem to be getting better by the moon, Alarra the Fierce.” Alarra flinched at the nickname. Her alias had come from a night she wanted to forget. She lightly traced the scar with her hand, turning to face Ser Wildrow again.

“Will you bring me to the Wall?”

“Absolutely not, my lady.”

“But, I am Alarra the Fierce. And Alarra the Fierce should be able to visit the wall if she pleases.” Alarra declared, her nose pointed upwards.

Ser Wildrow stared at her for a moment, before he sighed.

“It’s as if you wish for my head on a stick, my lady.”

Ser Wildrow and Alarra were now thousands of feet in the air staring down at the deep, deep snowy landscape beneath her. Her breath fanned around her and she shivered at the cold, having not felt it since she was a child.

“Tis cold.” She murmured, shoving her hands beneath her fur coat.

Ser Wildrow laughed.

“I warned you, did I not my lady?” He smiled at her, burrowing further into his own fur coat.

“Mhm…” She grumbled, whispering profanities under her breath.

“Cregan will have your head if he finds out.”

“You worry too much.”

Silence ensued and the only sound was the wind blowing harshly against them.

“We are very high.”

“Exactly seven hundred feet that spans across three hundred miles from the Ban of Seals to the Gorge, my lady.”

Alarra stared at the fire next to them.

“Why has my brother gone to Dragonstone?”

“It is not my place to say.”

“The Heir to the Iron Throne must have a reason to summon my brother.”

Ser Wildrow remained silent, gazing at the sky that was darkening.

“It is getting dark, my lady-” Ser Wildrow started, looking back up at Alarra from the fire.

“- and your brother will be back in the morrow.”

Cregan stepped out of the carriage, his feet meeting the thick grass of Winterfell. Cregan’s eyes first met his sister’s. She encompassed a wide smile as she ran towards him, giving him a large hug. She pulled away, grinning widely.

“So, is Prince Jacaerys as handsome as they say?” She asked, laughing as her brother rolled his eyes pushing her away lightly.

“You will have to make that decision yourself.”

“Mhm… and you'll let me beyond these walls when I am merely dust and bone.”

Cregan remained silent, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. He’s hiding something.

“Alarra-” A smile graced Alarra’s face and her eyes widened, almost popping out of her skull.

“You’re letting me leave? I get to leave the North? After all these years?” Alarra stepped towards Cregan surveying his face, but he sighed putting two fingers on his temple.

“Alarra, let’s go inside-” Cregan reached a hand to pull her arm with him, towards the hall but Alarra shoved his arm away.

“No. Tell me now.” She ordered, tipping her chin upwards. A confident gesture. But, the next words that escaped his mouth were not something the Princess of the North were thinking she’d hear. She was hoping she could be free. Travel the country of Westeros with her elder brother by her side. Hence never leaving his side or the city of Winterfell, she yearned to escape. To leave. To see what lies beyond the clutches of an eerie landscape with nothing but trees and people like herself. But, she was now to be locked away in another castle, far away from her brother.

“I have given your hand to Joffrey Velaryon.”

A/N: Hi! Thank you so so much for reading! This is my first time ever posting or writing a fanfiction so please leave me some feedback. LMK if theres any corrections to be made or grammatical/spelling errors! This chapter is mainly to introduce you to the FMC (Alarra Stark, my OC) and to give you a glimpse into her past and future. Her and Aemond wont meet for two more chapters, so stay tuned!

PS I am NOT finished with Game of Thrones but I AM finished with House of the Dragon so let me know if i made any canon mistakes and if not it is now fanon! Lol and no spoilers please

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

Not even for a second.

Aemond Targaryen x Fem Reader.

The one eye Prince believed if a man wants something he needs to create his own opportunities. He tried to forge his destiny by himself and you spoiled it.

Warning: mentions of death and suicide, spelling and grammatical errors. Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

You're the middle child of Rhaenyra Targaryen, her only daughter with Laenor Velaryon. You were betrothed to your young brother Lucerys since you were merely kids.

Aemond always felt life wasn't fair with him, you were meant to be with him, your true valyrian blood shouldn't be mixed with bastard's blood.

You never showed him affection or gave him any signs that you have the minimum interest or sympathy for him, but Aemond never cared about it, or at least that's what he said to himself all the time, he always said he would marry for duty, never for love. But in fact the boy secretly craved affection, he envied all the love you and your young brother shared for each other, as kids it was fraternal and innocent but while you were getting older and knowing that one day you would be more than siblings the affection developed in something else still innocent though, there wasn't darkness, Aemond was always observing your little interactions with your brother, always supporting and caring about him, he wanted that.

He wanted to hold your delicate and small hands, caress your skin or your hair, give you presents at any chance, hold you by the waist, walk side by side, dance even if he's not a big fan of it, he would do it for you, all the things he would do for you. He realized he wanted you not because of duty or alliances or just because he didn't want to see you with Luke, he wanted you because he was in love.

Your short stay in kingslanding made him realize it, you're a true Targaryen, always fighting for your convictions, smart, beauty, rage and pure fire inside you. But there's also your own and pure essence, you have a kind heart, you're not hard to love, people love and follow you easily. Everyone in the kingdom knows you for that, you're always looking for ways to help and interact with people, you won't be sitting on the iron throne but you certainly reign in people's hearts.

Aemond admires and loves you until Lucerys appears at your side, until he sees you kissing his cheek or forehead, until you squeeze his hand to secretly show him your support and reassure him everything will be fine.

Why? Why you have to be so kind and affectionate to that dark haired boy. Aemond can feel all his body tensed, his jaw hurts for all the strength his putting it on and as if it wasn't enough to increase his rage, his father, the king decided to leave his deathbed and come back to life just to support Lucerys claiming and announced happily about your wedding, Aemond will lost you without even had the chance to fight for you.

Then that damned family dinner, you looked gorgeous with that red wine dress, exposing your shoulders and long neck, laughing at your siblings jokes, dancing with Helaena, even drinking a little with Aegon, having fun with everyone except him, he's just a spectator, feeling miserable because you avoid him as if he was a plague, he was too angry and Luke's little laugh was the drop that spilled the glass, the dinner ended up in the worse possible way.

He couldn't sleep that night, you were in his mind, he couldn't handle it anymore, he took the secret hallways until he arrived at your chambers, surprisingly you were still awake, walking around and reading about ancient remedies and medicine, your nightgown was thin enough to reveal your curves and body shape, he's trying hard to be a gentleman and not observe but he can't, he's observing your hips, your breasts, he's devouring the image of you until you talk.

- If you don't come out now I will call my guards or my stepfather to take your other eye.

He stepped back, how did you discover him, he was pretty sure he had been silent, why is he feeling so anxious now? The nerves are eating him alive but he appears.

- There you are, spying on me is something I wasn't expecting from you, uncle.

You never looked at him, you were still in your book.

- My apologies dear niece, I swear my intentions weren't to spy on you.

- What are you doing here then?

He really didn't know what to answer, he actually didn't know why he did such stupidity, but perhaps this was his only chance to be alone with you and speak about what your presence has been causing to him.

- I honestly don't know why I came here tonight. Considering that we aren't really close, you barely talk to me.

- Perhaps because there's nothing we can talk about.

- I think I can be more interesting than my brother and still, you talked more with him than with me today.

- Again uncle, I don't have anything to say or talk about with you.

- Well, I have something, would you allow me?

He pointed at the chair in front of the smokestack, you left your book on the nightstand and took the other empty chair.

- So, go on.

- Y/n, I always had the feeling that my destiny it was to be married, mainly for duty, I always believed you and me would be a fitting couple, but destiny has twisted and funny ways to go against me all the time... having said that, I have to confess you have caught my heart and I would like to court you and show you I can be a better husband material for you.

You were shocked, you all this time thought you had been clear about your disdain and lack of affection for the man, you were wrong.

- Uncle, I fear I have to ask you to leave now.

You were trying to be kind, even if you hated this man, you didn't want to be rude and create more roughness in the family.

- Is that all you have to say?

Aemond is not good at showing up his feelings, but he tried his best to put in words his intentions and you didn't even try to pretend you cared.

- Yes.

- Why?

- I do not have intentions to give you a chance to court me, not even for a second. I have to let you clear that you're the last man on earth I would marry.

Just like that, Aemond didn't complain or discuss, he stood up and vanished in the darkness of the secret hallways. You thought you were free of him, the next morning a piece of lemon cake was sent to your chambers, before you leave the capital a beautiful dress was placed over your bed, of course you didn't touch them, you left the place.

Your refusal should be enough to show that your posture about his desires of courting you hasn't changed. But once you arrived home the presents and letters arrived too, your mother and Stepfather weren't happy, neither were your siblings, you never opened the letters, you sent back all the presents and every time you did it you asked him to the messengers the same thing.

«Tell him I don't want him, I prefer to be burned or devoured alive by the dragons before accepting him.»

Time passed, the present's arrival wasn't frequent anymore but still arrived, you still refuse to accept them. The news of your grandfather's death was hard, but the usurpation of your mother's throne was the flame you needed to keep you strong and with your head up. You and your brothers flew looking for allies, you went back in time, with good news, unfortunately your mother didn't have good ones, Luke didn't come back, no one knew where he was or what happened.

You were in tears, you became a widow before even being a wife. The rage inside you was like poison, you didn't lose only a brother, you lost your soulmate and if that was not enough you also lost a little sister, the little Visenya, the girl your mother and stepfather waited for so long.

Just like your mother, the kindness that once represented you, changed for anger and cruelty, your desire for revenge reigns in your heart. A Messenger with a Letter arrived.

You knew who sent it, for once you decided to open it.

«See me tonight outside of dragon stone, sincerely Aemond.»

And for once you would attend his request, you have a presentment. As soon as you arrived at the forest, far from dragon stone you see him in his horse. You don't leave yours in case you have to escape.

- Uncle. What's the meaning of your request?

- Merely to see you, you look beautiful tonight. Death suits you well, niece. I also wanted to give you my sincere condolences. I'm deeply sorry for your loss.

He smiled mockingly at you, his words gave you a strange feeling in your skin, you felt as if you were bathing in acid, your stomach is twisted and the air is burning your lungs, your hand is holding strongly the handle of your dagger.

- Pardon?

- I heard you're a young widow now... It's a shame, perhaps now you can reconsider my proposal.

He laughed, your pain is causing him happiness. Without thinking you left your horse and walked to him, he does the same.

- What have you done Aemond?

- I... Have to admit it wasn't my intention, I just wanted to play a little bit with the boy but Vhagar had different plans. Now tell me niece, will you think about our union?

You're heartbroken, your rage has been extinguished the thought of your Luke and his dragon escaping and then disappearing in the nowhere is enough to make you wish your own dead.

Before you could let Aemond see your tears, a last flame grew inside, the last sparkle of anger. You make a quick movement with the pure intention to cut his throat but he's faster, not enough for avoiding the cut but enough to have his neck untouched, instead another scar will paint his face, over his nose running up until his forehead, his eye patch ends on the ground.

- Not even in your deepest dream I will marry you!

- I Will have you! some way or another Y/N!

You went back to your horse and rode back home, Aemond couldn't follow you, he was bleeding he needed to clean his wound. You arrived at the castle and requested to see your parents and let them know what happened, they would certainly have their revenge.

In your chambers you were crying and sobbing unstoppable, the pain in your chest is growing more and more, you feel guilty for the death of your Brother, you can't handle it, Aemond's words are stuck in your head, he would come for you and take you by force, putting your family on risk again, unless...

As soon as the sun is starting to shine and light up your room you run to the secret door of your room, you will leave the safety of the castle and pay a last visit to your dragon. You decided, you really meant it when you said you preferred to be burned or devoured alive by dragons than being Aemond's wife, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction or the pleasure to have you.

Your dragon Riverflame sensed you, the beast is in pain as much as you, it knows what you will ask It to do.

- I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing... I know I will hurt my family and my mother needs me, but I won't let him take me... I feel so guilty for Luke's death...

You started to cry again, your dragon put his big nose under your palm, giving you comfort and growling softly, you hug its big head.

- I will miss you my old friend, I love you, I love you, never forget that...

You stepped back and looked at it, you know your dragon is ready to fulfill your orders, even if that means to end with its own rider.

- Riverflame... DRACARYS!

The beast sends up a Growl full of pain that echoes around the place and then, the river of flames of your dragon is the last thing you see.

The ashes of your body were found hours later, your dragon didn't let the servants or somebody else get close to them, the protector of you until the end.

Aemond found out about your dead days later, the rage, the fury inside him, how could you do that, he tried to forge his destiny by himself and you spoiled it.

[mondstaub1]

Hotd fanfiction idea

Aemond/Lucerys

Viserys forces Lucerys and Aemond to marry but Alicent is so desperate to prevent the match that she and Larys Strong spread the rumor that Lucery is barren. The rumor catches on and Luke is put under a lot of pressure to have a child.

But his body doesn't do well under such pressure and after nearly 2 years there is no babe in sight. Otto pushes for the masters to declare Luke barren and for Viserys to divorce or annule the match. Viserys gives in and degrees that should there be no sighn of pregnency by the end of the year the marriage would be desolved.

What no one suspected however is that in the two years of marriage Aemond and Lucerys really do fall in love. After a visit to Kingslanding (they moved to Driftmark) Lucerys is once again sullen as he had once more been forced to listen to nasty rumors about himself and his marriage and had to watch as other women flirted with HIS husband.

Aemond finds him sobbing and something snapps. He tells Luke how much he loves him, adores him, that he will never love or accept another and that it doesn't matter that they don't have children as they have each other. Luke is overwhelmed by feelings or relive and love and the couple spends the night wiith the most passionate lovemaking imaginable.

9 moths later Lucerys gives bith to twins and the couple show their little once of every chance they get.

Years later the old rumors are a running joke against all those who spread them as Lucemonds 9 children turn the seven kingdomes into their personal playground

[the20thangel]

The Pearl of the Realm

Summary: This is a one-shot connected to my series, The Dragon and The Raven. Little Princess Aemma has been born, and many celebrate her entrance into the world. Calling her the Pearl of the Realm. Looking into a glance of a House receiving the news of the birth of the little princess.

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist

Ravens flew across the seven kingdoms. All brought the glorious news of the Heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra, giving birth to a new princess—a new realm’s delight to grace the whole of Westeros and the Houses Targargeyn and Velayron. The Princess named Aemma in honor of the Crown Princess’s late mother, Good Queen Aemma. Her mother and father eagerly greeted little Aemma. 

As one raven descended towards the Riverlands, it was met by a weirwood tree teeming with crows and ravens. The Blackbird found its way into an open window, greeted by the sight of a striking lady with raven hair and piercing grey eyes. She was a Northern beauty, her tall stature and profound cheekbones accentuating her grace and beauty. Her smile, more of a permanent smirk, hinted at her fierce nature, making her the epitome of a Northern woman. 

The lady named Erena Reed, now Blackwood, was the Current Lady of House Blackwood; noticing the raven, she raised her arms to welcome the bird to land. Cooing at the creature dear to her family, she caressed its wings momentarily before taking the scroll from the raven’s legs. Erena thanked the raven before releasing it back to the outside, watching the raven circle twice before landing on the weriwood tree. Smiling, Erena walks back to her chair, asking for a maid to bring her husband, Samwell Blackwood, and to let him know that a raven had arrived from Kingslanding. 

Erena opened the letter, grinning at its contents. She chuckled as Samwell walked in tow with his younger sister, Alysanne Blackwood, and two maids carrying two babies. Samwell smiled at his wife. Walking towards her, he grasped her hands and kissed them. 

“My Love, what news does the Dragon King bring?” pondered Samwell. 

Erena smiled, greeting Alysanne before answering her husband, “There were two letters, one from King Viserys and the other from my cousin, who is part of the Golden Cloaks. Both bring marvelous news: Our Princess has safely given birth to her second child.” 

Samwell raised an eyebrow as Alysanne clapped in delight.

“Oh, what news indeed… perhaps the spare heir for the princess or the new heir for lord of tides?” Samwell pressed on as he took a seat, accepting a babe from the maid.

Erena hummed, allowing the second maid to place a twin in her arms. Smiling, Erena kissed the child’s chubby cheeks. Feeling his mother's kiss, little Benjicot opened his eyes, staring at his mother before yawning, snuggling into her embrace, and returning to sleep. 

“No, Sam, a little princess has been graced to the realm. A beauty from the accounts of her grandsire and my cousin. Kingslanding is celebrating the little pearl of the realm.” 

“Oh, another dragon princess, how wonderful. Do you think she will have a dragon?” asked Alysanne as she wiggled her finger to the babe in Samwell’s arms. 

Little Davos followed his aunt’s finger momentarily before growing bored and fussing. Samwell hushed his son, rocking him back to sleep.  Chuckling himself, Samwell thought Davos was always the fussiest twin. 

Erena shook her head, “No, according to my cousin, when the little Princess was born, she quickly bonded to Good Queen Alyssane Targaryen’s dragon, Sliverwing. The smallfolk have started praising the little Princess, claiming she will be like her grandmothers, Queens Alysanne and Aemma. Of course, not all are singing praises.” 

Samwell snorted, “Let me guess, The Green Hightower queen and her snakes of allies?” 

The Blackwoods did not love the Hightowers, for that family believed higher than others, especially those who still followed the Old gods. Blackwoods also had enough blood of the first men to follow the ways of the first men in fulfilling their pledges, and they swore loyalty to Princess Rhaenyra and her family. 

Erena laughed tauntingly, making little Benjicot jump in his sleep, “apparently, she was green like her horrid dresses, filled with envy that the little Princess is a beauty of actual Valyrian descent and bonding with a glorious dragon. Mainly because none of her four children have had a dragon as a babe.”

The Blackwood family laughed at the Green Queen’s jealousy. The childish act of being jealous of little children for being born into genetics made them bond to dragons. As the Blackwoods came down from their laughter, Alysanne remembered King Visery’s letter. 

“Good sister, was the letter from King Visery just the announcement of the birth of Princess Aemma?” 

“Ah, no, the King is also hosting a week-long celebration for Princess Aemma’s birth, causing more strife for the Hightower queen.”

“A week's worth? Are the celebrations soon?” inquired Samwell. 

Erena said, “In about two moons, rumors that the King wanted them to take place earlier, but Princess Rhaenyra expressed two moons of peace for her and her family before the realm comes to celebrate.” 

“That's perfect; two moons will allow enough time to prepare everything for the journey to Kingslanding,” explained Samwell, standing. 

The Lord of Raventree Hall kissed his Heir, Davos, and placed him back in the arms of the maid before leaving to call his council to prepare for the journey. 

Erena smiled at her husband’s excitement, glancing at Benjicot. Who knows, she thought, perhaps you both will meet the little Princess when you are older, Ben, maybe you can become a squire in her mother’s household. She smiled as she continued to rock the babe in her arms. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Princess Rhaenyra collapsed in her birthing bed, tired, and she shed happy tears at hearing the sounds of her new baby’s cries. Allowing the midwife to place her child in her arms, the Princess began to sob as she stared at her daughter’s face. Her daughter, although tanner, had the same face as her late mother. She was beautiful; her hair was white like snow and curlier than hers. She was perfect, thought Rhaenyra, glancing up to see Leanor walk nervously into the room. Both were still awkward with each other in their marriage. 

Rhaenyra placed her daughter into Laenor’s awaiting arms. As the Sea Dragon stared at the little Princess, he began to cry, still not being used to the idea of ever having children. Laenor knew he would gladly double down and give his life for his daughter…and his son. Just then, Prince Jacaerys walked in with his grandparents, who all eagerly wanted to see the Princess. Queen Alicent sniffed dryly, staying towards the back and watching the family crowding the parents from a distance. 

Viserys took the little Princess into his arms, with Rhaenys and Corlys standing at either side, shedding tears at the little beauty, who briefly opened her eyes to show the same purple eyes as her mother. Laenor raised little Jace, who was awed by his little sister, and the family was all happy. 

Unfortunately, the happy moment was broken when Alicent walked forward and glanced at the Princess. 

“Interesting how the little princess doesn't share many similarities to her father or Grandsire?” questioned Alicent, staring cooly at Rhaenyra. 

Rhaenyra glared but did not need to speak because Princess Rhaenys spoke faster. 

“Nonsense, your grace. My granddaughter has a mix of her parents' skin tone and the famous white Velayron hair and curls, unlike us Targarygens' waves or straight hair. She happens to hold the face of her late grandmother Aemma,” explained Rhaenys, turning her purple eyes coolly to Alicent’s green, who flushed at being called out. 

Alicent’s face only grew redder when Visery’s cried out. 

“My Aemma has returned to me, daughter, if I may, no more tremendous honor you would grace me if you named our little princess after your late mother.” cried Viserys as he stared at his sweet daughter. 

Rhaenyra smiled tiredly, nodding in agreement that her daughter would be named after her beloved mother, the true queen of her father. 

Laenor praised, “Princess Aemma, the pearl of the realm!” 

Viserys cried more as he exclaimed, “A true pearl; as princess of the realm, we need a week of celebrations to welcome her…”

Alicent gasped, “My love, surely that is too extreme, a week for a princess; we should not need to be excessive-���

“Aemma is worthy of that and more Alicent; she is the realm's Princess and the daughter of the Lady of Dragonstone. All must come and celebrate our newest family member!” countered Viserys. 

Alicent grew green with envy as she hurriedly curtsied and walked out of the room, not wanting to spend another minute in the room. She was upset that everyone was swooning over a bastard princess when her daughter was only given a small feast. 

Rhaenyra followed the retreating green gown before returning to her family. She giggled as Jacaerys waved at his little sister, growing annoyed that little Aemma did not wave back. Yes, little Aemma was indeed a pearl in her mother’s eyes.

[fan-goddess]

Hey you! Can I request Aemond falling for a Princess who is generally more dark, sarcastic, maybe she has war experience and is imterested in occult stuff? Thx of you do this !!Love u

Author Note: Thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy it as that I do it justice! After writing I don’t think I went less dark and more sarcastic and only cheerful with Aemond. Hope this is alright though still!

If anyone else has any requests please don’t hesitate to ask :)

Here is my masterlist where you’ll find other requests I’ve answered and my other content

Warnings: no nsfw, fluff, no real pronouns nor any real physical features are mentioned though it is implied the reader is a girl

—————

When Aemond first heard from his grandsire that he was to marry you, he assumed he had heard incorrectly. You were well know in kingslanding for being… unique.

For one, you did not dress like any woman he’d ever seen before. You dressed like a boy. When your father brought you to court one day when the both of you were two and ten, his eye nearly fell from his head when he saw you hanging round with Helaena under the tree in the courtyard.

You wore a dark vest top and darker bottoms. It was only when he saw the more feminine features that graced your face till he realised you were in fact even possibly a lady. Maybe even a pretty one at that…

“What are you staring at princeling?” You shouted at him when you saw him. You had no regard for what may occur with your talk. You truly seemed to be fearless. “You never seen a girl or something?”

Even the way you spoke drew him in to you. You didn’t speak like the women at the court, who all giggled and talked only of needlepoint and their husbands latest triumph. It was all the same recycled rubbish according to Helaena. You instead talked of the wars your lands faced and the training your father allows you to wholeheartedly pursue. He’d seen the scars that graced your body. There were small ones that were mainly etched on your arms, though he’d also seen one that peaked from the back of the shirt you wore for when you joined him and ser Criston for training.

He missed you only a little when you left to go back to your kingdom. Something about them needing you for another war that was starting up. All he knew was that you and your father left in the middle of the night never to be really heard from again.

The next time though he even heard of you was when his betrothal was announced. His mother gave him a sympathetic look as his grandsire announced it at supper for his eight and tenth, Aegon simply raised a cup of some unknown alcohol and said, “Maybe you’ll now learn how it is to feel a woman before the princess cuts your cock off for a spell at least!”

His mother quickly dismissed Aegons jest, though even she couldn’t deny one of the rumours that surrounded you. How you dabbled and experimented with something dark and dangerous.

No one knew what it exactly was you did. The rumour only talked of some language being painted onto your skin before battle in charcoal. A mystery language none could understand excerpt for yourself.

When he saw you next though. That was what did it for him. You still dressed the same. Though this time it held much more armour themed clothing. That and it seemed to be tailored to fit you perfectly. Your now painfully obvious womanly figure showed him just how much you physically matured in the years you left. Though it seemed you didn’t mentally mature as he had hoped.

“Hello again princeling!” You said with a smirk as you sat next to him. He does not respond to you. Hoping maybe you’ll get bored of him and leave him be. “That’s awfully rude of you my dear princeling! And to think I thought this would be a love marriage!”

WHAT?!? His eye widens in your direction by pure instinct. His shock not as well hidden as he’d have hoped. Though as he looks at you in shock his gaze softens at the sight of your face.

It seems since your involvement of the war, which he has been told has been stopped and conquered, has given you more scars that litter your body. There is one more prominent that sticks out to him. It’s on your forehead and looks to be deep. By the looks of it it was cut by a sword. It’s ugly yes, but the smirk you give him makes it so he doesn’t immediately move his eyes to it.

He’s about to comment on it, when a Lannister he does not remember the name of comes over with a goblet of no doubt wine in hand. He can see the frown that takes over your face from the corner of his eye. “My princess! My how much you’ve grown! When I last saw you I swear you had the figure of a boy! At least now I can tell what it is you are!” The man grins, unashamedly looking at your figure.

Aemond nearly lunges at the man there and then. How dare he make such crued and inappropriate comments to his betrothed?!? He’s about to say something so he doesn’t in fact lunge at him, but it seems you beat him too it. “I don’t think my figure should be what worries you Lord Lannister. Maybe you should be more focusing on, what is it your third wife now whose died? People may start to believe your cursed… or possibly that you killed them yourself in your unquenchable desire for a son…?”

Aemond lets out a laugh before he can stop himself. It seems you also know of the rumours of your, dabbling. Though unlike most ladies who fear for the rumours that may spread, you embrace it. It seems Lord Lannister does not share his enjoyment of your wit, as he leaves near as soon as he arrived practically with his tail between his legs like a dog.

“I’m not a sorceress you know little Princeling.” You say as you turn to him. “We do not have the same religions you have here. I follow a certain path that involves symbols called runes that help protect me in battle. That’s what the whole rumour was about.”

“I do not care about the rumours that surround you Princess.” He says. It’s a damn lie. He’s been eager about any rumour about you since you’ve left the castle. “We are to be wed either way.”

“Liar” You smile. It’s so wicked how you smile. You’ve been in war. You’ve been down right mocked for how you’ve been brought up and yet you still give him a smile that makes his insides feel like he’s flying on Vhagar for the first time all over again.

After the announcement ball of your betrothal, he has been seeing you much more than he ever did as a child. You join him for his training sessions with Ser Criston, just as how you did as a child. Only this time you fight him directly and manage to knock him on his arse. A feat he finds himself strangely happy with.

You even bring out a hand for him to take in a goodwill gesture. He finds himself admiring the feel of your hands on his. They have callouses, he can feel. He can also feel a scar on you inner palm. Possibly from holding a sword by then blade. Though as soon as he realises he’s holding it for too long he drops it. He even realises that he likes fighting with you almost too much when you hold him down with all your weight like you’ve been taught to do.

He feels his heart is about to burst from his chest and he hates it. Yet even after that discovery, he still insists on himself enjoying your company.

He finds you to be annoyingly informative. You join him sometimes for his reading sessions in the library, and insist on telling him to gruesome ventures of you in the war.

While he was attempting to read about Visenya and Vhagar, all he could hear was you telling him the tale on how you had to saw of a man’s arm to stop an infection from spreading any further. It annoys himself even more when he goes out of his way to engage these tales from you, asking about the infection and what is was, abandoning the book to the side.

Aemond finds himself near abandoning the books altogether and instead discusses these usually disbanded topics of conversation in full detail with you. Maybe he likes how passionate you get when you insist on telling him your your gory stories from war, your hands making small gestures when you get to a personal favourite parts and sometimes even putting on ridiculous voices for the men in the stories. He hates how he always ends up unconsciously smiling by the end of them and you always smile back at him.

He also hates how well the meeting of you and Vhagar went. All you could do since he once, and only once, mentioned about the possibility of you meeting Vhagar. Ever since then you’ve been non stop threatening him to take you to Vhagar and meet the queen of the dragons. You threatened to take out his eye, you threatened to poison his wine, you even threatened to set fire to the library leaving nothing but dreary poetry you knew he hated.

Oh how he despised you. Oh how he cared for you. Oh how he hated how he smiled so widely when he gave in after the threat of his books. You caressed Vhagar like you would a cat, and he nearly burst a blood vessel when Vhagar began to purr. What in the seven were you doing to his dragon?!? All you were doing was caressing Vhagar with your calloused yet somehow soft hands and whispering to her your favourite war stories… he was definitely not jealous!

Aemond learnt over the next few days he was in fact jealous.

All you could do was bother him to see Vhagar again. You didn’t ask to see him with the same intensity you asked to see Vhagar…

His denial knew no bounds as he denied why you seemed to make his heart race so much. Or why it seemed only you could make him smile so naturally.

Maybe it was only until he married you in the way of his ancestors, when he could whole heartedly say he loved you as he showed his full self to you. Sapphire eye and all.

[my-owl-baby]

Summer Love

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Summary: Aemond is betrothed to you, you didn't want to marry but Aemond targaryen changed your heart making you fall for the prince instead.

Words: 1,671

Warnings: fluff, Aegon being werid asf

You were going to get married in a two week of time, you only found out about it last night. You tired to deny the offer but your father of course agreed to it since it was the Targaryens.

You tired it not let it ruin your mood, sitting outside in the grass as you made a flower crown. Everyone started to pack their things or yours as well, since it was day of departure.

"Lady Y/n, it's time to go" you didn't like to hear those words, but you had no choice to listen or your father would drag you there himself.

You made your way to the carriage, getting inside with your flower crown still in your hands undone. You pick a few sunflowers out the grass before leaving, then you started to finish it.

You father came in sitting infront of you "I'm glad your here, I wouldn't like dragging you there" he laughed, trying to make a joke out of it which didn't work on you.

Of course you were upset since you heard Kingslanding is like pigs dirts there no grass, the weather there is horrible, is all your got your information from the maids in your castle.

You didn't responded to your father which he took the hint and left to ride the horse. It's not that you had anything against the Targaryens, you just wish you got married somewhere better then a heat rage of a place.

But you had to place to complain since they were the rulers of the seven kingdoms. And your house is what caught their eye, not the Lannisters, Starks, Tully, or other houses. Just the L/ns house caught their eye great.

Luckily it only took two days of riding to get to Kingslanding without stop, so you wouldn't be here bored of your mind.

After those two days had pass, mid day you had entered Kingslanding. Alongside with your father who rode the horse outside the carriage.

You sigh, seeing all the people from there, they either dress up nice or poorly. You saw literal shit on the ground "ew" you shook your head closing the blinds until you got there.

The doors open, revealing the dirt floor. You got out looking around the area, it looked sad. Sighing as your father made his way by your side, you had your sunflower crown on your head.

"Take that dirt off you" your father grumbled, taking off the flower crown himself and dropping it on the floor. "You are a lady, not a wild woman" deep down your father wanted best for you, you didn't see it only a old grumpy man trying to suck on the Targaryens asses.

You stayed silent, as you both walk into the castle into the throne room where you shall meet your future husband.

The big doors opened soon your name was heard "The House L/n have arrived along side Leo L/ns and his daughter Y/n L/n" you continued to follow your father. You glance around seeing two boys and a girl along side their mother, and their father at the throne.

"King Viserys, it's an honor" your father bowed, you followed behind. You didn't make eye contact with no one in the room, since they felt intimidating to you.

"I see, your daughter is lovely for my son Aemond" the king said, your father brought you infront of him. So they can see a clear view of you. Two fingers brought your head up, looking up at the queen Alicent, She scan your face looking up and down. She seem pleased "you are truly beautiful" she said a plaster smile form on her face.

You nodding giving her a small smile "thank you my queen" only where she could hear.

"We shall held a dinner, you both must be tired" Viserys said, trying to stand up but couldn't. You almost felt bad for the king but his time was soon to be over. Alicent showed you to your chamber where you would be staying until you're wedd.

"You would be perfect for my son, I just know it" she mumble to you, Alicent had been close to you ever since you arrived to Kingslanding.

She did your hair, dressed you up in the colour green. Your hair is up, close to hers up half of the hair is down. "You look beautiful" she smiled at you, you looked different from yourself she was making you fit in too quickly. She told you about her son Aemond different from what you heard from the maids.

"Y/n...are you maiden" she whispered only for the both of you to hear. You were surprised is she tried to tell you something? You only shook your head 'no' from her answer.

She smiled once more before patting your shoulders "I'm glad" you would've felt judge if you told her you weren't? You were supposed to be a lady, not a whore.

Following queen Alicent to the dining room, "you would love my son, he's a gentleman trust me" she spoke of Aemond as if he was quiet and gentle.

"You would sit next to him, understand?" She looked at you. You gave her a nod understanding her words "you don't speak much do you?" She mumble holding your hand close to hers.

"Sorry...I'm not use to this new step in life" you said lowly not trying to raise your voice, she looked at you closely until she nodded.

You sat next to Aemond, who looked at you non-stop there were times where he'll look away when you caught his eyes on you. During dinner you gotten close with Helaena, you two seem to taken an interest in insects or nature as such. "Have you seen a dragon fly?" She looked at you confused, she glance at Aemond who was also confused in hearing the conversation.

"What's that?" That's when you got embarrassed, she didn't know a dragonfly? Right they live in a desert. You chuckle taking a sip of your wine before explaining to her what the insects was.

"It's a insect that has wings but very big eyes" you passed her a small smile.

"Do they come in different colours?" She asked, you nodded. That where she started to ask you more about them. Alicent notice how her daughter become more comfortable around you, she was pleased with it.

"So, how do you think she'll be in bed?" Aegon asked his younger brother, Aemond didn't pay no attention to his idiot brother.

"Come on, she going to be your to be wife soon" he mumble, drinking his wine. Aemond looked to his side, seeing you smiling and joking around with Helaena, he did not understand the jokes you told but Helaena did somehow.

"She seems odd" he mumble to his older brother, Aegon looked at her then at his brother.

"I would think she beautiful having my children tonight" Aemond glared at his brother shaking his head.

"You will do no such thing" he seer lowly making sure no one heard their conversation.

Aegon just smirked to his brother, "Y/n, I see that you took a liking to my daughter Helaena" Alicent said, getting everyone attention to you. You didn't needed the attention on you but you could tell by the way she looked at you she ment no harm.

"Yes, my queen...she and I have many common things" you said a bit louder then usual since she was across the table from you.

You started to close your hands together tightly, looking down. You could feel your father eyes burning into your skull.

"Thank you for having me" you have a smile to her, she return one as well. You felt cold hand on yours, looking down seeing it was your soon to be husband hand on yours.

You looking up at him, he looked serious wasn't paying no attention to you as he ate his meal. You felt a great comfort in his touch, you wanted to warm his hand so you close yours in between his hand giving them the warmth they deserve.

You grew close to Aemond during the passing days close to your wedding.

Today he didn't have anything to do and decided to find you near the Weirwood tree, where you read your book on learning High valyrian since Aemond said it would be a great way to communicate to each other.

He found you and sat close to you, "Hello lady Y/n" his voice was quiet not trying to scare you but it failed, you stiff and turn to him.

The stiffness left once you realize it was him, "My prince" you bow your head lightly.

"Hows the self teaching going" he asked, both your knees touched, your shoulder touched each other.

"It's okay, I'm still figuring out a couple more" you mumble, the shyness never once left. Of course you and Aemond gotten close but you realize how much his mother was right about him being sweet and caring.

"Interesting, say a couple words for me" he said, waiting for you to say some high valyrian words.

"Um...okay, ābrar¹" you said looking at the prince if you said the word right, in which you did.

"Not bad for a beginner, what else?" He wanted more, to hear your voice. It was music to his ears making you want to speak his language.

You thought of something to say before you said anything "Se ri...riñnykeā ropatas²" you struggle a bit but ended getting the hang of it.

Aemond gave you a around of applause for how much you gone this far learning his birth language.

"Wonderful, my dear wife" he mumble, looking at you with the most kindest smile you seen before. It took you by surprise that he called you his wife, already.

It made you smile, you thank him as the both of you took a walk around the castle with his arm warped around yours.

Maybe marry a Targaryen isn't as had as you thought.

(Translation: women¹ the boy fell²)

[dragonworshippersblog]

Can anyone explain to me why aegon ii is praised for not killing aegon iii? He did not spared him for the sake of his good heart, but because since his only claim was being a man, he could not name his daughter as heir, also considering that much of his body was burned and that he did not know if he was still able to have children. Aegon had about half of Rhaenyra's supporters, who supported him because they couldn't stand the idea of being commanded by a woman and NOT because they believe in his capacity to rule a kingdom, and in a situation where the armies of Cregan Stark and Lady Arryn were marching to Kingslanding, their support was crucial. In a situation where Jaehaera had died and Maelor had survived, Aegon ii would not have hesitated to kill Aegon III, he said himself "my sister's line must end" so please stop praise him as if he were a kind-hearted man

[rosemaryblossomworld]

First Blood (ch.1)

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚅𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎!𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚜 𝚅𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛.

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚈/𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚃𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢....𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕?

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝟷𝟾 , 𝙰𝚞!𝚅𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚝𝙳, 𝚁𝚑𝚊𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚛𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚟𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙰𝚞, 𝚟𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍!

𝙰/𝚗: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎! 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍...

Red Castle was the most dangerous place in the Kingslands. Why? For centuries, the land had been ruled by the most ancient and noble race of vampires! Nothing can break them. Strong...fast...immortal. And they have dragons to serve them.

Men feared and revered them. The Targaryen bloodline gave rise to many rumours and gossip. People whispered about them, their purity of blood and sacrifice.

Every three months, balls were organised for the Targaryen children to find partners.

But every time these partners "disappeared", everyone knew exactly how it happened, but were afraid to say it out loud. Servants, people from the upper classes, ordinary travellers disappeared.

Today was the 6th moon of the winter festival (Christmas). The weather was hot, uncharacteristic of the Kingslands. And on the 15th day of the sixth moon, the lords of the various houses began to receive an invitation from the Queen for a feast. Many considered this letter a "black mark".

This time the black mark fell on the house of Y/l/n, the lord's wife wept bitterly and clutched to her bosom, the youngest Lady of the house, who was beating hysterically. Lord Y/l/n looked gloomily at the letter and reread it over and over again.

"Daddy! Don't give me away, they'll kill me! Please!" young Sanda couldn't imagine that her comfortable days were coming to an end.

"Be quiet Sanda! You've been chosen, but that doesn't mean you can fall to the eyes of Jacaerys," the man muttered.

"Our Sanda is the most beautiful girl in the Kingdom Lands! She could match the Maiden herself! Everyone knows it, and the Queen and her children have found out. Of course she'll want the most beautiful girl in Westeros standing next to her son!" said Lady t/f hysterically.

"Don't get in the way Darlene! I'm thinking!" the man glanced sullenly at the letter again.

He threw a glance at his youngest daughter, now he saw before him a pathetic woman who thought everything would be decided at the wave of a hand. If it didn't involve the Targaryen family, then yes, Lord Y/l/n needed to wave his hand and all of his daughter's problems disappeared.

At that moment the eldest daughter of the family, Y/n, entered the room quietly, she was carrying a small cart with tea and cakes, a quiet and calm girl. She was a bastard. So in the house she was on the level of a servant. The girl was a little taken aback when she heard the pitiful howls of her sister and stepmother. But continued to arrange the cups on the table, pouring flavoured tea from the south.

The girl squinted at the letter in her father's hand and then looked at him, he was already looking at her.

"Interesting?" the gears in the lord's head began to move gradually.

"I dare not," Y/n answered hastily.

"Sanda has been chosen as a candidate to be the 'princess' of Jacaerys," the man sighed and threw a letter on the table.

Y/n looked at her younger sister, who was almost choking on her tears. The girl no longer saw the upstart she had been a few minutes ago when she bullied her. A nasty and caustic thought crept into Y/n's mind that made her want to chuckle. The lord felt it.

"Don't gloat! Lousy girl! Instead of Sanda, you're going to the ball. If Prince Jacaerys doesn't look at you, you're lucky, if he does, I'll give it to him," the lord smirked and looked at the shocked Y/n carefully. The cries of the stepmother and sister fell silent.

"What?" whispered the girl quietly, in that instant she was overcome with anger and sadness.

"Honey, you're a genius! How did we not guess it right away!?" immediately cheered the stepmother.

"Daddy! You're the best!" squealed Sanda and ran into her father's arms.

"The queen might get angry... "Y/n hurried to say.

"She won't be too angry if I tell her that the youngest daughter is seriously ill," the man sniggered.

"She can ask Sanda to attend the next ball, and the next, and the next, and so on ad infinitum!" raised her voice to the older mistress. The lord frowned.

"How dare you cross me!? You ignorant wench! You should be grateful that I took you in. It's time to repay our kindness. The ball will be in two days, so you will be moved to another room. Go!" shrieked the man, he knew perfectly well that his eldest daughter was right. But he didn't want to think about it in front of his wife and youngest daughter, lest he make a fool of himself.

The lord followed the girl's eyes as she looked at him with anger, once again those eyes were reminiscent of the eyes of the witch he had spent the night with. That woman had been beautiful. He had promised to make her his wife and take her out of this poverty. But he had not kept his promise, leaving that one in poverty. As he was packing up and leaving her decrepit home, the dark-haired woman whispered just one phrase: "My daughter will be the ruin of your family." The man laughed. He still laughs now because he looks at Y/n, at this unassuming and defenceless girl, and thinks: "And what can she do?"

Two days passed in preparation. For the first time, Y/n was treated like a queen, washed, fed, and dressed in her finest clothes. The stepmother and younger sister had gone to another estate to maintain the legend of the ailing younger mistress.

On the day of the festival a beautiful dress was sent to Y/n's room, it was red like blood, a black veil and gold jewellery completed the look. The maids carefully put the dress on her, did her hair and then left, leaving Y/n alone. The girl looked at herself and wanted to cry. To cry with happiness that she was wearing such expensive and nice clothes, and with grief that it was an unnecessary spectacle.

The girl wasn't allowed to be sad for long, she was called downstairs to go to the festival.

Y/n and her father stood opposite the queen, who towered majestically over them. Beside her stood her husband, Daemon Targaryen, a vicious prince and the most scandalous person in the kingdom. His two daughters stood beside him, Rhaena had only recently 'lost' her lover, while Baela still had a partner, but the betting was already underway as to when she would start looking for a groom.

Of course, there were rumours that Baela and Jacaerys were to be betrothed, but to this day, they remained free. Jacaerys stood proudly beside his mother, he didn't look at them, his head held high. Lucerys and Joffrey were nowhere to be seen. Everyone knew that Joffrey had not yet reached the age when the power of the ancient family was awakened. And Lucerys just didn't like the event, and the queen thought he was young in his choice of mate.

" I asked you, Lord Y/l/n, where is your youngest daughter?" the queen asked sternly, but every time she shifted her gaze to the young Y/n, her look softened.

"My youngest daughter is seriously ill! She came down with a fever a couple of days ago, the symptoms are terrible, and she's only getting worse," the man lied.

"But who is there with you?" she asked more calmly.

"Oh, it's my eldest daughter. She didn't want you to be angry, so she decided to personally volunteer to soothe your anger," the girl's father nudged her slightly.

"Your majesty," Y/n bowed.

Jacaerys, who had been standing bored when he heard the soft voice that roused his "dead" body, turned his attention to the sound. At the bottom of the steps stood the most beautiful girl he had ever seen at a ball. Soft facial features, a beautiful stance and a slight smile, he felt a hum in his ears, and before his gaze was only her. Was this what his mum had been talking about? "The eternal bond?" That's her, isn't it?

Sensing her son's change, Rhaenyra looked at her boy and then shifted her gaze to the girl. The woman smiled and hummed.

"Good, I see your point, that's very noble of you, enjoy the festival," the queen waved her hand and Lord Y/l/n hurriedly disappeared from the woman's gaze, fetching his eldest daughter.

"You can do whatever you want now. Dance, eat, drink, if any of the heirs come up to you to talk then speak, don't embarrass me," the lord walked away, leaving Y/n completely alone in an unknown environment.

After thinking for a while, Y/n skirted down the corridor and then onto one of the castle's balconies. The view was magnificent: the harbour, the ships, the sun setting on the horizon. This view was not comparable to what the girl saw at her place, in fact she had no windows in her room. It was always dark and cold.

She covered her eyes but immediately opened them as soon as she felt a strange smell, it was sweet and juicy, as if there was a sweet fruit in front of her eyes that she wanted to bite. She turned round and her heart stopped beating. Jackairis Velarion stood before her.

"May I join your silence, my lady?" he asked, slowly approaching.

" yes, of course," the girl said quietly.

She looked straight into the guy's eyes, they were brown, but...she could also see red reflections in them that appeared and disappeared.

"Why did you leave?" he enquired to get rid of the awkward silence.

"I'm not used to being at events like this. I'm nervous, to be honest," the girl grinned and leaned her hands relaxedly on the stone railing of the balcony.

"I understand, my lady, I get tired of them too. That's why my little brother rarely attends them. But my sisters just love the fun and the noise. They're dancing in the hall right now," he smiled, and Y/n was embarrassed.

"You...I... " Y/n tried to think of a topic of conversation, but nothing came to mind.

The prince chuckled. He couldn't look at the girl in red, in his head they had lived for several thousand years, they had five...no! seven...no! ten children.

"I didn't ask your name," the guy mentioned.

"My name is Y/n Y/l/n, Lord Y/l/n's eldest daughter," the girl bowed.

"Your little sister...she's not sick, is she?" he asked immediately and he could hear the girl's heart beating fast.

"She...no...she's just," the lady tried to come to her senses and think of something.

"Look at me," the prince reached out to Y/n and lifted her chin.

Y/n looked at the prince and froze, her ears popped, her breathing became quiet and steady, her eyes were covered by a bright veil from behind which she saw the prince's red eyes.

"Tell me the truth. Where is your sister?" he ran his hand gently down the girl's cheek.

"She has gone with her stepmother to the second estate. She is not ill, but shocked by the letter the queen sent. I am her replacement. I didn't want to come here, I was forced," the girl said in a cold tone, Y/n wanted to scream but couldn't, she didn't want to say it! What's going on!!!?

"Don't be afraid Y/n, I won't hurt you. You are under my spell, it's what our kind can do. We can make a person tell the truth or, we can command them to do an order, for example: my love, take my hand and press it to your chest," the prince uttered the last phrase, he didn't really mean to say 'to your chest', if his blood flowed like a normal person, his lady could see his red face.

Y/n felt the heat come up to her cheeks. This was exciting! She took the prince's other hand and pressed it against her chest, where her heart beat.

"Like this. Your heart is beating fast. Are you scared?" Jace lifted his hand higher.

"I'm excited... "the girl whispered softly.

"Are you afraid I'll bite you? I won't do that unless you ask me to," the prince moved closer.

"I don't want you to kill me," for a moment all feeling came back to the girl and she tried to break free, but the Prince's grip tightened and he soaked her again.

"What if I told you I don't want to kill you. I want you to be my partner, my princess and future queen," he whispered the words into the girl's lips.

"I don't believe you," just as monotonously.

"Then, I'll do my best to make you believe. Let me kiss you, just one kiss as proof," the pair's lips almost touched, but Y/n didn't respond.

He grinned and nestled his lips against the girl's soft lips. Immediately the buzzing in her ears disappeared, her vision and breathing normalised again, but Y/n didn't pull away, only pressed herself closer to the prince. Again that smell that was driving the girl crazy.

He touched the girl's lips gently and weightlessly, sucking on her upper and lower lips. Then, opening his mouth slightly, he ran his tongue along the girl's lower lip. Y/n immediately opened her mouth, letting the young man's hurried tongue in. The kiss constantly changed its pace, then slow, then fast, then careless. The girl knew the feeling for the first time, something warm in her lower belly and flowing down into her underwear.

He growled into the kiss, feeling the girl's wonderful ambrosia, that sweet smell starting to swirl around them. The Prince is afraid that his kin can smell it too, and they will try to steal his Maiden, out of his own hands. Jace clasped the girl tighter. He continued to entwine his tongue with his lady's, growling and whimpering slightly, the scent growing brighter and brighter. Now Jace's heat was centred down his stomach as well.

Y/n began to feel her head spinning, these emotions and this scent...where did it come from? So pleasant, sweet and spicy, wanting to inhale and inhale. The girl moaned at the prince's touch. Is it his charms? Or is it her true feelings? So shameful, but...she wants more, she wants what the maids whisper about in the manor, she wants what they teach in the Silk Streets. She pressed herself against the prince and...darkness fell.

The girl opened her eyes sharply and realised that she was in the room where she had been living for the last two days in her family estate. She jumped up from the bed and looked around. The sun was shining brightly and illuminating the room.

"Mistress, you woke up just in time," a maid named Martina, walked over to the elder mistress' bed and placed a few things on the chair next to it.

"What happened? Where is father?" her voice was slightly hoarse and the girl hurriedly drank a glass of water that was on a table nearby.

"Ser Jakor brought you in yesterday. You fainted at the ball. And your father is in his study now and wants to see you after breakfast," the maid said calmly.

Y/n was dressed in a light white dress with open shoulders. Breakfast was light, the way a girl likes it.

After breakfast, Ser Jakor escorted the girl to the lord's study. He knocked and announced the arrival of his daughter. There was a muffled sound, "let her in." And the knight opened the door.

"Why did you want to see me?" went straight to the subject Y/n.

"Did you communicate with the eldest prince yesterday?" asked the Lord, still staring at the papers in front of him.

Y/n felt her face begin to burn. Has he seen us? Does he know about this? What to do!!!

"Yes," the girl said quickly.

"Jakor, hand it over," the man pushed a black envelope towards the knight.

Once the envelope was handed over, Y/n looked at it closely. It was an unusual black envelope with drawings of flowers, the letter had been opened, most likely the lord had decided to see who it was from, because the envelope bore the name of the eldest lady of House Y/l/n, though it was barely visible. But the girl looked at the Targaryen family crest on the gold seal, the girl's heart sank, she pulled out the envelope and read a few lines. Queen Rhaenyra wrote and demanded a meeting with Y/n Y/l/n, at the end there was only one phrase: You are the perfect candidate.

"I don't know how long the queen will keep you, but I have ordered the maids to gather some of your wardrobe. You will be sent to Red Castle, we can't keep the Queen waiting!" the man finally looked at his daughter.

"Father..." the girl began.

"I don't care what happens to you. Your fate is essentially sealed. That's the way it should be, Y/n, you were a mistake and fate presented me with a chance to get rid of her," the man spoke coldly.

"What if they let me go?" the girl asked, looking angrily at her father again.

"This will be a great disappointment. But I'll take you back, you'll live here as before. Now get on your way. The queen wanted to share a meal with you," waved the lord and burrowed into the papers again.

Y/n sighed and left the room. She was filled with a thousand emotions. It was scary and exciting at the same time, she would meet the prince again, but...she already knew what she would be to him.

With heavy thoughts, the girl walked down to the ground floor. She watched her things being loaded. Y/n took one last look at Y/n's estate, smiled sadly, and got into the carriage. Her fate was now in someone else's hands.

Ps: I'm not good at writing intimate scenes...well...I think the second chapter will take a long time to come out because I want to write it right. In a way that's breathtaking.

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise - c. 4

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series

Chapter Four: Home

Flea-Bottom was his kingdom. He wanted to share it with someone. A knock breaks Saera away from her thoughts – She walks slowly and twists the metal knob, her eyes brightening as she realizes it's just Daemon. "Kepa, (Valyrian word for father and uncle)" she greets with a smile and discards her book. 

He throws her a piece of clothing and she raises her eyebrows in confusion. 

"We're going somewhere," he responded as he placed a cap in her head. His niece had never been to Flea-Bottom before, and as a princess of the realm — she should know what business happens there. Deep inside Daemon knew that he was grooming her to be his replacement in the gold-cloaks. Saera was skilled with a sword, but her confidence needed work. 

"Where?" she questions as she takes her robes off, pausing lightly as his eyes trail towards her body — memorizing every curve in it. He quickly snaps into reality and turns around, Saera was an honorful lady — she didn't deserve such...wanton behavior. "My Kingdom — Flea Bottom." he answered in a joking tone. 

He was called the Prince of Flea Bottom, since he spent the majority of his days in brothels and taverns. But he was different now, he wanted to change for the better. "Don't you have other ladies to spend time with?" she questioned as she finished tying the ends of her tunic. She maintained the confused expression however as he turned right back around. 

"And who am I asking out? Is it not you?" he inquired as he bonds their hands together. His hand fitting into hers like a puzzle that didn't need to be solved. "Am I special then?" she smiles as he ushers her to open the window — allowing for both of them to evade the eyes of the knights. "That shouldn't be a question," he retorted flirtatiously as he began his descent down the window. 

His shoed foot loudly jumps down, and he lands with both of his feet. He looks up at Saera who looked around nervously — his little niece was afraid of a little height, he chuckles wondering if she was afraid riding Melarys too. "Jump," he yells, not bothering to look around if anyone could possibly see them. 

There was nothing wrong with a little rendezvous, anyone who believed that malice was behind it would have their tongues cut off. "It looks dangerous," she whines while her hands grip the metal frame of her window. He lets out a low chuckle, allowing the fog around him to settle. "I'll catch you," he promised, offering both of his hands as a show of support. 

"Kepus, you're crazy. There's no possible way that you'd catch me," she complained as he let out a sigh. He didn't want to coerce her into doing something she didn't want to do.

 "It's alright, we can do it another time —" he began to change his mind. Getting caught off guard as she jumps from the window. 

His breath lightly shudders as he hurries to catch her in time. He should've known that she'd attempt to pull this stunt — she wasn't nicknamed Mischievous Saera as a kid for no reason. He catches her, but they both fall down on the floor. A loud laugh escaped from the Princess' mouth. "Fuck," he yelps as she dusts her clothes and stands up. "You've gotten rusty, old man." she mocks him as he stands up. Almost avoiding the pile of garbage on the side. 

"You hurt my feelings, darling." he muttered as another laugh escaped from her lips. He reaches for her arms again, bonding them together — and making sure that she wouldn't get in trouble. They walk towards the slums of Kingslanding — the foul smell immediately welcoming the both of them. Saera lets out a loud exhale, hoping that the smell would die down. 

They walk beside a fortune booth and one of the women blocks their way. "A silver coin for your future." she says enticingly as a metal crown falls from her gown. Saera looks down and frowns, picking it up and placing it on both of her hands. She wasn't afraid to be in the slums, but only because she knew that Daemon would be there to protect her. 

Daemon looks at the object in her hands, and smiles. "Fits you," he complimented as he took it and placed it atop her head. "Queen Saera," he muttered while the fortune-teller glared at the both of them. Saera reaches for the crown on her head, and quickly places it down on the table beside her. The fortune-teller looked like a crazy old woman, she didn't want to take chances. 

Daemon shoves the woman out of the way, before wrapping his arms around Saera's shoulders. Leading her towards his favorite place. Saera wasn't a child — she was an adult, and being a lady made her more vulnerable towards the advances of greedy men. Daemon remembered the story of Princess Gael Targaryen — his aunt who was seduced by a singer, and she killed herself. He didn't wish the same faith upon his beloved. He didn't want Saera to be naive. 

"Brothels are either filled with soldiers or noble lords who wish to let out their desires. Most importantly, in brothels we hear all their dirty little secrets." Daemon says as he leads her towards his usual spot. He always used to visit this one particular whore, Mysaria, who was strictly professional — she wanted gold and he wanted pleasure. She never wanted anything more than that. She's retired and found a new job. He's already forgotten about her. 

"And you're telling me this because?" she questioned looking around the place and seeing rows and rows of beds filled with prostitutes and their clients. She respected their job — they did what they could to survive. But she didn't understand why she had to be here and see all of this. 

"Pity? We're second-children, Saera. Our siblings will become Kings and Queens, but our destiny is ours to forge. Despite you being a woman, I hold faith that you'll become someone important." he admits seeing potential inside the young ingenue. Maybe he saw himself inside of her. He saw himself inside a girl who wished for love, and found it nowhere. 

"You need not pity me, kepus. I can do well on my own." she asserts as he leads her down deeper into the building. He reaches for her cap and takes it off, allowing for her white-hair to flow free. She smiles, following along with him. Everyday that she spent with Daemon felt like reaching her full potential, she spent every minute with him burning restlessly and breathing fire like a real dragon should. 

He turns to look at her, as he follows after one of his old whores. "And if your father marries you to a Lannister? What will you do?" he questions with a smirk and she shrugs. "It'll be better, now I can spend more time with Leila." she responded and he scoffs loudly. 

He couldn't believe that she hadn't been educated about what was expected of her. As a wife and as a princess. He never saw the beauty in forcing a woman to bear children — and in spite of his anger towards Lady Rhea, he never forced her to sleep with him. He respected that, but not all lords did. There will be some more crueler than others — ones that would feed you to the hounds. 

"Life is not all compromises, my sweet girl." he advises as she takes a seat down in one of the benches. He walks towards the bench and sits beside her, placing his arm on her body and his other arm on the bottom of her chin. "Always assert dominance. Marriage may be for the benefit of our house — but we are always free to do what we please. Fuck who we please." he whispered allowing his hot breath to send shivers down Saera's spine. 

"You speak of marriage as if I am a man." she remarks as the space between the both of them grew smaller and smaller. "My dear Saera, you will be greater than any man." he replied while licking his pink lips. She looks in his eyes — finding herself lost in him. She knew what he was doing — he was trying to get her. She found it amusing, and thus played along. 

"I will not be able to fuck who I please — love who I need to." she breathed as she raised her legs and placed it atop his. His eyes held the universe in them — she found herself slowly flying in response. "You always have a choice," he corrects as his hands trail from her face and down to the sides of her body. 

He knew that it was wrong. He knew that he wanted to marry her first. But once he found himself lost in the labyrinth, he couldn't find himself out. "I choose you, kepus." she smiles as he leans closer and tastes her lips. They tasted like honey and strawberries. She was sweet and he loved the taste of it. 

Oh

Oh 

So this was love. Saera thought as she continued leaning into his embrace. It wasn't loud like thunder or screaming like a battle cry, it was soft like rain and burned like fire. Real love was calm and truthful. It didn’t need spectators. 

He breaks free from the kiss, snapping himself back to reality. He pulls away from her, "Let's go home." he mutters softly — still tasting her in his tongue. 

— 

Saera and Daemon laid on her bed, sprawled and staring at the ceiling. “Do you love me, kepus?” she asked, turning her head in his direction. “I will return to the Vale. I will ask my brother to consider my marriage with Lady Rhea as void and null."

“Kesan dīnagon ao, saera.  Ruaragon ao isse īlva robes, dīnagon ao isse se ways hen zaldrīzes.  Mērī pār, kesā gīmigon skorkydoso olvie avy jorrāelan.” he vowed while staring deep into her eyes. Each word uttered was a vow. His promise to never leave her. 

I will marry you, Saera. Cover you in our robes, marry you in the ways of the dragon. Only then, you will know how much I love you. 

“Yn mērī lo kesā rual nyke.” (But only if you will allow me.) he smiled softly, hands reaching to cup her cheeks. Saera’s lips turned into a smile. How lucky she was to find a man that listened to her whims. “I would love that, kepus. It is everything I need.” she smiled, bridging their lips together. 

next chapter>>

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