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myladysapphire · 1 year ago

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His Sapphire Princess (VII)

After the night in the brothel Rhaenyra is married to Laenor Velayron to protect the birth of her child. who in the years to follow is the only one of Rhaenyra's children that is believed to be his, she is loved by all in the red keep, even queen Alicent adores the girl, so when Rhaenyra proposes a marriage between Aemond and Rhaenyra's daughter Visenya, Alicent happily agrees.

The children having been best friends in their youths are more than happy to be wed but when the incident at drift mark occurs things change, will it be for better or worse?

word count: 2,090

CW: bad parenting

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen (can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclaimer: i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

a/n this chapter is mainly filler and im not that happy with it

Dragonstone

Visenya

After two years and her mothers three failed attempts to get her to abandoned her engagement with Aemond to marry, the now newlywed,Cregan, she was at Dragonstone. Where she was greeted by a new baby brother, Aegon, or Aegon the younger as many referred to him. It was strange, the babe was the exact image of her, had her face, her smile, her eyes, but they were also the eyes and the smile of Daemon, and the face of Rhaenyra. And yet unlike her, this babe was loved, adored even. And she was becomeing more and more of an outsider to her own family. And the babe in her mothers belly would only push her further away.

"Visenya?" she heard Daemon call, despite the hesitancy, the pair had become somewhat close. Daemon having taken up time to train her with a sword, aswell has teach her all that he knew, an activity that had previously been reserved solely to Baela, a fact the girl had ahted so much that she had left to Driftmark.

"Daemon" she replied, looking up from her book, " what is it?"

He laughed, "māzigon sir tala, kostagon iā kepa daor māzigon visit zȳhon tala va zirȳla Brōzio Tubis" he moved forward to pat her head.

come now daughter, can a father not come visit his daughter on her name day

High valyrian, the only lounge her 'father' would speak to her in, "sȳrī seeing hae iksā se mērī mēre qilōni ēza jeldan nyke iā biare Brōzio Tubis ēdan thought tolvys would sagon skipping ziry bisa jēdarī"

sȳrī seeing hae iksā se mērī mēre qilōni ēza jeldan nyke iā biare Brōzio Tubis ēdan thought tolvys would sagon skipping ziry bisa jēdarī

"daorys ēza forgotten, Se ao gīmigon bona, dōna riña" he sighed, "tala, nyke gīmigon skoros bisa Brōzio Tubis means, īlon mirre gaomagon, se aōha muña iksis paktot zirȳla self lēda worry. issa worried syt ao, dōna riña" she scoffed, "nyke gīmigon ziry gaomas daor urnēptre ziry se ēza va moriot issare distant...yn"

no one she has forgotten, and you know that, sweet a girl daughter, I know what this name day means, we all do, and your mother is beside her self full worry. he is worried for you, sweet a girl I know he does cannot show he and she has always been distant...but

"Dont make excuses for her! Gods, my whole life i have been put an arms length away, shown no love by my own mother, all because i am your daughter, and you abandoned her. I should hate you both!" she sneered, before taking a deep breath, "ēza dōrī, daor istin, celebrated ñuha Brōzio Tubis. gaoman daor jiōragon presents, iā gifts, daorun hen zirȳla. Se ao would pendagon bona va ñuha mōrī Brōzio Tubis, se ñuha ēlī lēda zirȳla isse lanta bōsa jēdri nyke would. se yet gaoman daor" she was angry, he could tell that, everyon could. At breakfast her mother didnt even acknowledge her. And in only a few days she would got to kingslanding and marry Aemond. Aemond who as it seemed had also forgotten her.

she has never, not once, celebrated my name day. i do not get presents, or gifts, nothing from her. and you would think that on my last name day, and my first with her in two long years i would. and yet i do not.

"Senya, I am your father, and you are my daughter, your mothers daughter and her heir. She cares, even if she does not show it." he smiled, grabbing her hand "Now your brothers have a surprise for you" he stood up, dragging her with him.

She and her brothers had become closer the few moons she had been back, especially her and Jacaerys.

The gardens of dragonstone had been covered in decorations, balloons and a banner saying happy name day. It was a far cry from the usual balls and feasts, but the next few moons would be filled with that. She had wanted something small, to work as her nameday and going away celebration. All she wanted was two things, a civil day with her family, and cake.

A four tiered cake sat in the centre of the gardens, decorated in pink, white and gold with a single candle ontop.

A big smile graced her face at the sight, making her brothers, who stood to the side filled with excitement. Even baby Aegon had a big proud smile,as if the whole thing was his own idea. Her mother was there, with a small smile gracing her lips, at the sight of her daughter.

Her brothers were quick to tackle her into a hug.

"Happy name day Senya!" Joffrey practically screamed.

Jace watched on with a big smile, before moving to taunt a teary eyed luke. "We have a cake! Come see!" Joffrey spoke, dragging her down the steps and into the garden.

"Make a wish!" Joffrey whispered in her ear, before running off to stand with the other guests, or the lords and ladies that ran with her mother from the red keep to dragonstone.

She made a wish, a wish she would never admit too and a wish she hoped would one day be true.

"Daughter" she heard her mother speak, causing her to look up from the cake. "I wish to talk to you"

"Why?" she asked bewliderd, moving away from the cake to follow her mother. Servants were already moving towards the cake to cut it up and serve, she hoped some would be saved for her, but the eyes of both Luke and Joffrey were staring at the cake with which she highly doubted it.

"Beacuse i am your mother and i...care for you" she replied, her eyes looking down in shame as she struggle to utter the last part, causing Visenya to scoff.

"Of course." she rolled her eyes.

They moved away to talk in an alcove away from the celebration, away from prying eyes.

"Are you sure-"

"Yes!" she innturrupted, "for the last time mother, Aemond and i have been friends our whole lives, and though we have become distant in the past years is does not mean that this wedding is something i no longer want, and the realm will be better for it. It will ease tensions between the branches of our family and hopefully unit them."

Her mother nodded her head. " i know that, but- "

"No, mother, dont try. Am I still your heir?" she asks, causing her mothers eyes to snap to hers.

"Yes, I promised you it...I will not take it back, just like my father didn't remove me as heir once Aegon was born."

She sighed, "Then, me marrying Aemond will hopefully appease the greens, their blood will still sit on the throne"

Her mother moved closer, and took her hands in hers, "you are my daughter, it is my job to worry, dōna riña." Visneya flinched at the words.

"And yet you have never seemed to care before" she moved back, her mother eys filling with pain.

She took a deep breath " you are right, i have..i have not always been...there for you- but i want to be now"

"Now?" she asked bewildered " now? Now that I am leaving in a few days, now that I am about to be married?now?" she asked, her voice breaking. "Why do you care now?"

Her mother looked down, tears in her eyes "because Daemon-"

"Oh Daemon! of course! Of course he is why you care. He was the reason you hated me to begin with, and now! Gods, it's so- i" it was ridiculous that's what and she hated it, and yet she could'nt bring herself to hate her mother.

She took a deep breath, and moved towards her mother, "i leave in less than a week, we should not argue, we- no you should be ofr once in my life civil with me, show me an ounce of the love you showed my brothers, and be my mother." she stepped back, looking over to the party, jace was looking over, his face filled with concern.

"Tala,-" her mother began, "Avy jorrāelan, gaoman. nyke vaoreznuni bona gaoman daor urnēptre ziry yn - istia shifang skorkydoso qopsa īles naejot jurnegon rȳ aōha laehurlion tolī daemon geptot nyke, se ōdres hen ziry haunted nyke rȳ ao se nyke dōrī teptan se bonf iā muña should emagon lēda zirȳla tala iā chance, se iksan vaoreznuni"

Daughter....i love you, i do... im sorry that i do not show it but - you must understand how hard it was to look at your face after Daemon left me, the pain of it haunted me through you and i never gave the bonf a mother should have with her daughter a chance, and i am sorry.

Visneya simply nodded her head and moved forward, she had heard nothing new today, it was the same old argument she seemed to hve with her mother everyother day.

"Senya!" she heard Jace call as she walked down the halls, she wouldnmt stop, she couldn't. She just wanted to get away. "Visenya!" he called again, finally catching up. He placed his hand on his shoulder stopping her. "What happened?" he asked.

"Nothing, it was the same as usual, that's' all" he nodded his head, seeing hse didnt want to talk.

"Here I stole some of the cake from the party-your party" he pulled out two slices of cake wrapped in napkins from his pockets, "we can go to your chambers and eat them if you want" his eyes had a longing in them, hope.

She nodded her head, walking towards her chamber door. They ate in silence, relaxing in each other's company.

"I'll miss you" he spoke suddenly, his voicebraking.

"And i'll miss you" she replied, taking his hand "ill miss you all" she said, turning to face him, hand in hers. "I'll miss everyone," she smiled.

"No '' Jace shook his head, "i'll miss you" his eyes had such a sotrng loinging in them, a longing she now finally realsied was for her? He leant forward, leaning in to kiss her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, jerking back.

Jace grew flustered, a blush coming to his face, "i-im sorry, i-i thought that!-"

"You thought wrong! Gods jace....i" she sighed, he was hurt, "i am to be wed, and mother is planning an bethrotahl between you a Baela, i- we can not and i do- i don't look at you that way"

Her heart broke at the look on his face, "perhaps it's best if you leave"

He nodded his head and left.

She was confused, Jace had never been like this with her, at least she didnt think so. Their mother had never hinted or asked for them to consider the chance of marrying eachother. In fact she seemed quite opposed to the idea. Perhaps Daemon had mentioned something, he had taken Jace to a tour of brothels for his last nameday. She had heard that he had only picked one to bed, a woman with silver hair and violet eyes, one that looked very similar to her. Even made replicas of her clothing and responded to her name. Creepy. She had known of childhood crushes on her, Aegon had been obsessed with ehr as a child, and prepas now, if his letters were any inclination. But Jace? It was just straight up confsuing.

"syt qogralbar sake, qubāje Brōzio Tubis mirre!" she mumbled falling back onto her bed.

for fuck sake, worst birthday ever!

The next few days were spent relatively alone. Her youngst brothers her only company. Before she knew it it was the day they were leaving. Her room was fully packed, only the base furniture remained. It was funny she hadn't even lived her a year and there would be no trace of her ever being her. She had no fond memories of this place. She doubted she would miss it.

Now winterfell she did miss. She missed Creagn. He had become her closest friend and confidont. But he was a thousand leagues away, it took an age to receive and send letters. She hoped one day she could visit, meet the child in his wifes belly and see him as lord of winterfell. If his uncle ever stopped being power hungry and actually gave his nephew his birthright.

"Tala" she heard her mother call out, " we are about to leave".

she should be exicted, years and longing to be with Aemond and yet suddently years of fustration filled her, yeards of letters sent and no reply.

she was to be his wife in a moons time, a moon of celebrations, fo tourneys and feasts.

but she didnt know him, not anymore, the last she had seen him, and spoke to him was that fatefull night at winterfell.

for all she knew he had become like Aegon, or he had stayed exaclty the same. or worse she had become something, somone she knew nothing about.

she knew there would be changes, with Aegon and Heleana married with children. she feared going back, and yet she knew it was her home. A home she never wanted to leave, but she feared she wouuld retun and feel even more alone than she did here.

next part

Taglist (bold means could not tag)

His sapphire princess: @cathy1514 @iiamthehybrid @melllinaa @aleemendoza2425-blog @cassandra1995-blog1 @deltamoon666 @aelora-a @ryiana @isa-beenme @unique7676 @adriennepoison

HOTD: @taragryenmoony

Aemond: @blossomedflowerofluv @violet-potter

General: @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @zillahvathek @dark-night-sky-99 @apollonshootafar

#aemond fanfiction #aemond targeryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targeryen x oc #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #ewan nation #house of the dragon aemond #his sapphire princess #prince aemond #aemond smut #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #aemond x targaryen! reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #sacha writes ✍️

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themareverine · 2 months ago

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oh, we're just gettin' started, bub

hi peanut. Jesus freak, thirty. ⚲ with Wolverine ➳❥ very deeply in my wolverine and Hugh Jackman era. just call me mrs. Logan.

please be an adult when you interact, minors DNI. don’t solicit me asking for money. ageless and blank blogs will be blocked.

➳❥ requests & anons

── Recents ➳❥ updated 12/13/2024

▹UNTIL WE FALL - AU DP&W | worst!Logan x mutant!fem!OC ▹WHO WE ARE - dofp!Logan x mutant!fem!OC ▹CLOSER TO HELL - shortking!DP&WLogan x fem!OC

Masterlist

➳❥ Logan Howlett/Wolverine

── SERIES

▹ Mare & the Wolverine - AU!Origins!Logan Howlett x fem!OC

summary: The Northern Territories were the last place Mare McAffery ever imagined herself, much less a prize fighting bar with characters the likes of the one they call the Wolverine. A logging community and living out of a Motel 6—it wasn’t exactly Shakespearean. But sometimes, survival calls for a tooth and nail fight—even for a preacher’s daughter.

▹ Until We Fall - Worst!Logan Howlett x fem!OC

summary: DP&W AU. It's been God knows how many years after Logan's death in North Dakota—and this wouldn't be much of a story without a shiny new villain with a hot new plan, or someone to save the world. Well, maybe two someones. Ok, you win, three. But first, you have track down that said someone—the Wolverine. And who better to do that than the girl who found him the first time? Logan/OC

── ONESHOTS

▹ Wild Man- Logan Howlett x fem!OC

synopsis: Blizzards and pane glass windows—typical for a Thursday night at Laughlin City's favorite haunt. Until the Wolverine walks in, and hell hath no fury like a man ravaged by jealousy.

▹ Bed of Bones - The Long Night!Logan Howlett x fem!OC

SYNOPSIS: When he promised her something different, she didn't think it would be this. Alaskan stars, running to survive, trying to feel. Anonymous faces in a forgotten frontier. It isn't much, it's barely living—but really all she needs to live is him.

▹ Designated Driver - oldman!Logan x fem!OC

synopsis: "Hey driver!" Tits, yeah—counts two of 'em. What Logan can't quite shake isn't the drunk-off-her ass's $20,000 tit job, or even the way his passengers embarrass themselves with shameless come-ons, stupid amounts of money. something else, entirely—a pretty little thing all done up in makeup and curls, wishing she were anywhere but third-wheeling a drunk hen party. "Sorry about my friend, she's—" "Didn't even notice her, honey."

▹ Closer to Hell - shortking!DP&WLogan x fem!OC

synopsis: He may be five inches closer to hell than she is, but he takes up more space than God, sets fire to anything he’d dare to touch.

▹ Who We Are - dofp!Logan x mutant!fem!OC

synopsis: "What am I, Logan?" Swallowing, "What is this?" And she knows what she is, subliminally.

── DRABBLES SERIES

▹ A King & His Castle - oldman!Logan Howlett x fem!OC

synopsis: Breadwinner. Bring-Home-the-Bacon. He's heard it all before, but it's never hit home. Until her. Coming home to her is the only thing to live for, the only thing keeping the heart behind his ribs spinning.➢ IN YOU, MY FORTRESS ➢ MORE THAN ROCKET SCIENCE

── DRABBLES

▹ Garfield Morning Coffee- Logan Howlett x fem!OC ▹He’s Not You- Logan Howlett x fem!OC ▹ Subaru, It's You - worst!Logan x fem!OC ▹ Top Eight - worst!Logan x fem!OC drabble

➳❥ Kate & Leopold

── SERIES

▹ On Glass We Walk - Leopold x fem!OC summary: Marketing copywriter by day, aspiring Shakespeare by night, she’s been crafting Prince Charmings and glass slippers all her life. Never once suspecting he could actually exist, bone to bone. In New York—her best-friend-in-law’s apartment complex. The stuff of Cinderella, Grimm—but her? “Oh. My. Lanta.” “Who, pray tell, is ‘Lanta?’”

©️ themareverine 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Layout inspired by @ ovaryacted, header @ loganhowlctt

#mare writes #themareverine: navigation #wolverine #logan howlett #logan #hugh jackman #x men the animated series #mare's fics #ask mare #thoughts mare rambles #mare’s moots 💛

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asumofwords · 2 years ago

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello angels!! This is a much longer chapter than usual because I kept writing and couldn't stop and didn't want to split it into two parts! Thank you all for the love as usual, I hope you enjoy ! <3

Chapter 65: Lanta hen keskydoso, Two of the same

Returning to your chambers after your interaction with Larys caused you to have spring in your step. It had given you a rush to speak so plainly with him, smiling at him so that all in the gardens who passed by suspected nothing.

For once you felt you knew something that the so called Master of Whispers did not.

The Maester had helped you.

The Maester had given you that broach. A symbol of allyship that you needed in the Keep. And yet they still did not know it. They did not know that there was a traitor in their midst.

And it excited you.

When you opened the door to the chambers, you found Aemond already inside, sitting in front of the fire, tome in his lap. His hair was pulled back behind his head in a half ponytail, the long silver tresses lifted and flowing down his back. Messy strands fell around his ears and framed his face.

This new style came as a shock to you. The man had worn his hair in the same way, every day, as he always had since he was a child. It revealed more of his sharp face and neck, the hair pulled away to reveal the pale skin beneath.

Without greeting him, you moved about the chambers to seat yourself at the window, picking up a book from the pile on the side of the room to read. When you sat you felt his gaze lift to you, but you did not meet it, opting to ignore him and read instead. But the harder you tried to ignore his heated gaze, the less you could resist, letting your eyes flick up to his.

Aemond watched you beneath his lashes silently, finger tapping on the page in his lap.

“Can I help you?” You asked.

“I’m sure you are enthralled with the prospect of reading ‘Crispian Celtigar, Master of Coins; Wealth of the Realm’.” Aemond hummed.

You let your eyes fall back down to the book in your lap.

You had picked up one of the most boring books of all.

Why did Aemond even have this?

“I am sure far more enticing than this conversation.” You drawled.

Aemond hummed, before letting the chambers dissolve into silence. You opened the page and began to read the history book, eyes skimming the words and immediately regretting your quick choice.

‘The Lord of Claw Isle came from the blood of old Valyria. His allyship lay with the Velaryon and Targaryen Houses naturally. Lord Celtigar was a clever and young Lord of his House. He had grown in the Isles and-‘

“How was your walk with Lord Larys?” Aemond’s smooth tone pulled you from the words of the book.

How did he know?

Did he see you?

“Enlightening and refreshing. The air was crisp, and the sun shone beautifully. I regretfully had not taken the time to be acquainted with the last Lord of House Strong.”

You watched him as he took his eye from his book to look at you.

“Hm. And what did you talk about?”

“That’s neither here nor there, husband.” You spoke bluntly.

Aemond blinked, staring at you, trying to push you to respond to his question with his silence. You thought of not answering him, letting him stew in the possibilities of finding comfort in a man like Larys.

But you sated him instead, “He doesn’t speak plainly, as I am sure you would know. Pulling teeth would be easier than talking to him.”

"Larys will only tell you what you want to hear.”

“Of that I have realised.” You replied.

You looked back down at the tome in your hand, trying to force yourself to read the words on the page.

Why was it so dull?

How could he read this and not fall asleep?

“We are to dine with the King this evening.”

“Delightful.” You droned, flicking another page over to look at the endless boring script.

Aemond stood, and you let your eyes peek at him from below your lashes as he walked towards the door, requesting the knight to summon the maids.

A short while later, the two girls entered the chambers and Aemond asked them to ready you for the evening.

They braided your hair, half behind your head and dressed you in a deep black gown, the cleavage dipping to show ample breast. You wore your gold chain with the rubies, with the earrings and ring to match, twirling the dragon around your finger as you waited in anticipation of yet another tiresome, and most likely, eventful dinner.

As the maids left the chambers, Aemond waited for you by the door to walk side by side with him to the small dining hall. He watched you as you observed him from across the room.

“You were gone quite some time.” You interrupted the silence, looking down at your hands in false boredom.

“I had duties to attend to.” He responded bluntly.

“And how is she?” You looking up at Aemond with curious eyes.

You watched his jaw tick.

“Who?”

He wanted to know what you knew.

“Alys Rivers, of course.” You smiled at him, stepping forward across the room to stand at his side as you moved to leave the chambers. You walked out the door and waited in the corridor, looking back to see Aemond still where he was, eye narrowed.

Oh yes, I know all about her.

Silence filled the air as Aemond stared at you, and you awaited his response. He walked out to join you, the tow of you beginning to make your way to dine with the Greens. Aemond kept his gaze straight ahead as you walked, and you felt a sense of satisfaction at his silence.

And so you asked again.

“Is she well?” You smiled looking to your side, all sickly sweet, like a soft honey bee with its stinger hidden away.

Aemond hummed, looking down at you as you continued, still not having answered.

The knight escorted the both of you down the halls and corridors. The doors to the dining hall were just up ahead as you rapidly approached them, your hands held together in front of you, and his behind his back.

As you stood in front of the entrance, watching the two guards lean forward to pull open the large wooden doors, Aemond shifted, leaning closer to you as he looked down into your eyes.

Your husband opened his mouth to speak, but paused before closing his mouth shut. The Prince straightened and looked ahead as the room was revealed to you.

No response then.

The knight announced you to the room as you walked up the small steps to the landing where the table lay. Aegon sat in the centre with his mother and Otto flanking each side. All dressed in green looking like an odd bunch of peas.

The Master of Whispers sat beside Alicent in robes of burgundy, watching you with hawk like eyes after your interaction. Lord Jasper Wylde sat opposite him, in pale green robes, whilst other small council members littered the table like cockroaches.

“Welcome back, brother.” Aegon smiled from the across the room, watching as the both of you came to the table.

Aemond pulled your chair out for you, as he always did, and you seated yourself in it softly, giving Aegon a small, yet polite smile. Alicent pursed her lips at you in a stiff greeting and Otto simply watched you. Your eyes flicked to Lord Jasper Wylde and you gave him a gentle smile.

Aegon’s brow creased, if not for only a moment, before a large smirk wound its way on his face.

When the servants laid out the supper for the evening, you had sat and waited patiently for Alicent to say her prayer to the room, thanking the Seven for the spread and the health of the King. You piled your plate high with steaming vegetables and meat, and sipped generously at a honeyed wine from Essos, and not the spiced wine from Dorne that you loved. It was sweet, but also tart on your tongue, a distinctly different wine to what you had grown accustomed to.

As you ate, conversation filled the room between the small council members and the Hightower's. You could sense however, that Aemond’s gaze was stiffly on his brother, who had not taken his eyes off of you.

“It was a beautiful day today, was it not, niece?” Aegon asked, one side of his mouth twitching as he spoke.

“It was, uncle. I took myself for a walk around the gardens and was fortunate enough to be accompanied by Lord Larys.” You answered honestly and politely, smiling at Lord Strong at the mention of his name.

“It must be a relief to have your Lord Husband back in the Keep. I cannot imagine how lonely it must get for a wife without their husband.”

Lonely.

Your eyes flicked to Jasper Wylde who would not meet your gaze, eyes down on his plate as he ate.

He had told Aegon.

“It does, uncle. There is only so many times I can read the same book, or walk the same path in the gardens, before the task becomes tedious. But thankfully, he has returned to me after so long away.”

Aegon sipped his wine as Alicent’s voice flitted across the table to you.

“Perhaps you would like a loom, so that you may embroider?” She inquired, hands clasped together on the table, head tilted.

“That would be welcomed, thank you. Although, I may not be very good at it. It was always more of a talent Princess Helaena had. I find my talents elsewhere.”

Aegon scoffed loudly into his cup and Aemond shifted beside you.

Conversation slowly moved around the table with the other guests and you let yourself settle back into your chair, listening for anything important. Any tones that grew quiet or hushed or stressed. Anything that could be of use.

But most of it, was not.

“I’m curious to know about these talents you spoke of. I am sure my brother has experienced such things. Does this mean we will have an heir soon?” Aegon questioned, grinning at Aemond.

You unreservedly pathetic, loathsome, waste of breath.

You grit your teeth, the sharp incisors sliding over each other in your mouth roughly, and forced a small smile on your face, fighting away a grimace that tried to replace it.

“Those talents, I unfortunately have no knowledge of, uncle. But, no,” You paused, “I had my blood, so there is no babe.”

Speak plainly and openly.

Appear to be complacent.

Aegon pouted and sighed, “The Realm needs a babe for the treaty." He announced loudly, drawing all into the conversation again, "Have you even been trying? Do you need me to instruct you?”

You smiled at him, and thought of all the ways you could tear his head from his shoulders.

“The Prince had taken to Harrenhal for many days. Aemond often warms the bed of the Strong bastard, Alys Rivers.” You took a pause and smiled at your uncle beside you, “But now, thank the Gods, he has finally returned.”

Aemond stiffened at your side, hands gripping his cutlery tightly. You reached a hand over to grasp one of his in your own, soothing his white knuckles with your thumb, smiling at him brightly.

“I go where my King commands me.” Aemond purred, hand dropping the utensil beneath his hand and grasping yours tightly, digging his fingers into your soft skin painfully.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

Alicent stared daggers at her son, and Ser Otto sat quietly watching you. Aegon laughed loudly into the room, looking at how his brothers eye twitched and avoided meeting your gaze.

“I envy you, brother. You seem to have been wed to Visenya reborn.”

“Then that would make Aemond, Aegon the First reborn.” You replied, and watched as Aegon’s smirk dropped from his face with triumph.

You could never measure up to Aegon the Conqueror, you half-witted swine.

Aemond’s harsh grip on your hand loosened at the comment.

Otto steered the conversation away from you and your uncle, and you sat with you hand in his until the dinner was over. Aemond stood, assisting you to stand, and excused you both from the table with a curt parting glance and a stiff bow of his head.

You had thanked Aegon for the meal, and smiled at him and the other Green council members before leaving the dining hall with your husband.

The walk was quiet, and once you had entered your chambers, Aemond began to pace the room. Each step he took, his boots clacked against the stone floors loudly, hands behind his back as his lips were pulled into a sneer.

“Your childishness knows no bounds.” Aemond growled, back faced away from you and towards the window.

“My childishness?”

Aemond spun on his heel looking at you, “You dare to bring her up whilst we dine? Before all the Lords?”

You tilted your head and looked at him, “The Lords already knew. I was the only one it seemed, in the entirety of Kings Landing, who was not privy to my husbands whoring.”

“Whoring?” Aemond sneered, taking a step closer, “And what of your little walk with Lord Wylde?”

Fuck.

Thinking on your toes, you scoffed loudly, “You must think me stupid to approach a man who is known as 'Ironrod' to the small folk for his refusal to bend to any man. A Lord dedicated to law, who will not budge, and has openly ridiculed my mother? Do you think that man such as him,” You narrowed your gaze, “Would even look at me for one moment? Do you think a man like Lord Jasper Wylde would even fall for such an attempt?”

You had hoped he would.

All men are the same.

They think with their cock.

Aemond crowded your space, his chest brushing against yours as he looked down at you.

“You know nothing of men.” He growled.

“I know plenty.” You countered, looking up at him, staring into his violet eye.

“You know nothing.” The One-Eyed Prince snapped, breath fanning over your face.

You sighed, stepping back and away from him, “I know that you fly to Harrenhal and bed a bastard named Alys Rivers. I know she is of House Strong. I know that she is called a witch, and I know that you love her.” You turn away from Aemond, his lips twitching as you spin on your heel, “I know that your words are hollow, for you have cursed my brothers as Strong bastards and waged a war on them, and yet, you bed one of your own.”

You stood in front of the fire, looking at the flames as they licked at the wood within, the bark peeling away from the heat only to be devoured by the orange and yellow teeth of the fire. The flames flickered for a moment, swaying as though disturbed by a breeze.

When you turned, Aemond was behind you, his large hand coming to snatch your throat tightly, ripping the air from your lungs.

Your hands flew up to grasp his wrist as he sneered down at you.

“You know nothing of her. Do not presume to speak freely.” He growled, face shadowed by the light of the fire, accentuating the sharpness of his features.

You wheezed, hands still gripping him, and yet you did not feel frightened.

“Even if she has your child, it will never be an heir. It will always be a bastard.” You gasped, staring him in the eye.

Aemond’s mouth pulled taunt and his hand squeezed your throat harder, body looming over yours as the fire crackled loudly beside you.

“And yet Aegon could legitimise them both, if I asked.” His sneer pulled upwards into a smirk, fingers twitching around your throat.

“And yet you and I would both know the truth.”

Aemond’d grip yanked you towards him, his nose brushing yours as he grunted, eye searching your face before he shoved you backwards, your hand coming to your chest as you breathed in deeply, coughs clawing their way up your throat.

“If you are free to bed her," You wheezed, watching at how he reacted to your words, "Then I shall find someone to warm my bed elsewhere.” You smiled widely, voice hoarse from his grip.

His single eye flickered, and you saw his hand twitch, “Or perhaps I will fuck Aegon. He seems to show interest in warming our bed.”

There was a shift.

The air in the room seemed to chill, and a shiver rolled down your back.

Aemond’s face morphed into something you had never witnessed before.

You had grown accustomed to seeing his rage and fury often, his bitter anger and spite, but this? This was something new. Like any lingering presence of the man you had known, or even the man you had witnessed just a moments pass, was gone, and in his place something dangerous and unforgiving.

“Tread carefully.” He whispered, barely restraining the pure rage within him.

The mere mention of Aegon stirred this response.

You pressed on, testing the waters.

“What do you expect me to do whilst you are gone and the King lingers around these chambers? If he commands it, he is King. I cannot refuse him. And he has made it clear to me that he wishes to teach me things that you could not.”

“Aegon is a little boy, dressed as a man who we are all forced to call King. His word holds no power over me.” Aemond sneered, animosity pouring out of him as he looked at you.

“And yet you do his bidding, and go where he commands you, like a dog.”

The slap sounded into the room before you felt it. Your cheek stung and your eyes began to water, head turned towards the fire. Your hair curtained over your face as the pain began to bloom across your cheek.

A little boy he's forced to call King.

'His word holds no power over me.'

You let a shaky hand move to touch the heat that rippled along your face before you looked back at Aemond, whose chest rose and fell, fist at his side curling and unfurling.

Stepping towards him, you took a deep breath, “Do it again if it will make you feel better.”

You watched as Aemond’s brow furrowed, confusion and anger dancing around each other as he watched you.

“It makes no difference to me. I expect your cruelty. This is what I know. I know you." You breathed and watched him as you dropped your hand, revealing your red cheek to the room.

"You have raped, and defiled me.” You took another step closer, watching as his breaths evened out, “Beat, and choked me. You have scarred me and haunted my dreams far longer than any folklore or tale. I anticipate every blow, every curse, every drop of blood taken from my body, because that is the man that you are.”

Aemond stiffened with every word, looking down at you as you came closer.

“You have called Aegon a monster, and yet he has shown me more mercy than you.” You smiled sadly up at the man.

“I do not fault you for taking Alys as your lover. Anyone in a loveless marriage such as this would do the same. And that is the only mercy you have given me. Each day that you are gone from the Keep, and leave to warm her bed, I am given a reprieve from your cruelty and having to look upon your face.”

Aemond’s gaze darkened as he let you continue, “Don’t mistaken me, uncle. You are a handsome man, an image of a true Targaryen.”

You let yourself look over his body. He was tall and lean, with a sharp face. His hair was soft and shining, silver locks pulled back away from his neck. Aemond's plump lips were pulled into a stiff line, and his purple eye was locked on yours.

His robes fit him perfectly, tailored to perfection, and the way he held himself tall and strong, added to the allure of the man known as Aemond Targaryen.

Aemond was handsome, there was no denying that.

You would not lie to yourself about a trivial thing such as appearance. For anyone with half decent taste could see that he was a very attractive Prince. Even if he was the most limaceous, despicable, and horrifying man you had ever come across.

“The loss of your eye has weighed very little on your looks, and if you were anyone else, I would have thought myself lucky. But you are not anyone else, and it is not the scar that makes you so hideous.”

You let your hand move to cup the side of his face, watching as he flinched at the movement, brows furrowing deeper on his face. His cheek was warm against your hand, heat radiating into your palm as you felt the subtle stubble of his jaw.

Your thumb rubbed against his jaw. In thought. In questioning of your next words. In a form of comfort to both yourself and him. Aemond’s gaze dropped to your lips, eye half lidded as he leant into your touch.

“It is not your eye, kepus. It’s the person you are within.” You whispered, all soft and cooing, but words sharper than a blade.

Aemond’s eye flicked back to you, blinking, lip twitching as he watched you. You moved to take your hand away from his face, his gaze piercing through you.

Aemond's large hand shot up, and grasped your wrist, holding your hand against him.

Holding your palm against his cheek.

His grip was unyielding, and his fingers twitched around your wrist in thought, tightening to a bruising and crushing vice, to simply holding your arm in his hand.

“You will come to love me. Just as I love you.” Aemond whispered, grip tightening around your wrist painfully.

“When the sun rises in the west, and sets in the east. When the rivers and oceans run dry. When the tree hold no leaves, and the sky holds no colour. That is when I will love you.” You breathed.

“And yet you did once. And you do still. You just refuse to see it.”

“You refuse to see reason.” You pulled your hand from his grip, feeling the warmth of the fire beside you, “You are disillusioned by time and war.”

“You are disillusioned by your own fears. You refuse to see it. To see that we are meant to burn together. That a great fall would tie two threads. Fated by the Gods.”

You took a step back away from him.

What?

“Lanta hen keskydoso,” Two of the same, "Vējes ondoso se Jaes.” Fated by the Gods.

You shook your head as Aemond spoke, stepping forward to grasp both of your hands, pulling them towards him to press against his chest.

“You must see. She must have told you. Surely she spoke of it to you.” He whispered.

“Who?”

“Helaena.”

Helaena?

“Lanta rōvēgrie zaldrīzes perzyssy, hēnkirī hae mēre.” Two great dragon flames, together as one.

One hand left yours as you looked up at him, blood running cold. His hand moved to the back of your head, long fingers tangling themselves in the hair at the nape of your neck. He pulled you closer, looking down at you hungrily as his pupil expanded, swallowing the violet of his eye.

Air caught in your throat as his nose brushed against yours, his breath fanning over your lips as he watched you.

“Spool hen Kasta, spool hen Zōbrie.” Spool of Green, spool of Black.

Spool of Green, Spool of Black.

“Syt iksan aōha spool hen Kasta, Se ao ñuha spool hen Zōbrie.” For I am your spool of Green, and you my spool of Black, Aemond murmured, lips brushing gently against yours as he spoke.

Hand turns loom.

Green to Black.

Green to-

“Iā rōvēgrie ropagon naejot letagon lanta hubon. Vējes naejot zālagon hēnkirī.”

A great fall to tie two threads.

Fated to burn together.

Aemond’s lips crashed into yours, teeth clashing roughly into your own as he wrenched you close to him, one hand tangled in your hair, the other wrapping itself around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

It was all teeth and tongue, suffocating and rough. Where you would try to come up for air, or wriggle from his grip, Aemond would double his strength and hold you against him with no likelihood of escape.

A great fall.

All you could think about was falling, whilst Aemond’s hand pulled you under.

His fingers pulled at the laces of your dress, roughly ripping them open from behind as you were forced to bend to his will. Aemond ripped the front of your gown and chemise down, breasts spilling out of their confines.

You yelped into his mouth as his hands pinched your breasts meanly, fingers twisting the stiffened peak between his thumb and forefinger.

Aemond moved you backwards until your legs hit the back of the chemise, your body almost toppling over the back of it. You pushed back into the kiss, nipping at his lip harshly as he continued to undress you, gown pooled at your feet.

He pulled back to look at you, his eye wild and hair messed. His lips were swollen and red, and the tiniest hint of blood rose from his bottom lip where you had nipped it.

“Gevie.” Beautiful, He cooed, looking you up and down as you shivered under his gaze.

Aemond stepped close, hand gripping your chin, pulling your face up to look at him. He brought his head down towards you and whispered.

“Mine.”

Your front was pushed up against the back of the chaise as Aemond spun you around roughly, your hands coming to grip the dark wood beneath you tightly for balance. You breathed in shakily, trying to steady your breaths as Aemond loomed behind you.

“Alys has seen it too.” He whispered, hand trailing down your back, causing goosebumps to rise in its wake.

“Blood will be spilt to seed the garden, and set the future sway.” His fingers curled beneath the crease of your ass, tickling the skin as he pushed you forward with the other hand, bending you deeper over the back of the chaise.

“Ravens will whisper the words of a burning star, a crown forged of blood.” He continued, fingers trailing up the back of your thigh, fingers scratching short nails against the skin as they made their way towards your centre.

“And from her blood, the Prince that was promised. Five years to come, his song of ice and fire.”

Two long fingers swiped through your folds, caressing your bud as they moved back down toward your hole, forcing their way in. You gasped at the intrusion of his hand as he pushed down on the front of your walls with two skilled fingers.

Your fingers gripped the wood tightly as you breathed heavily through your nose, desperate to calm yourself as he began to slowly drag his fingers in and out of your heat, rubbing against the soft spongey spot within you.

“Our heir will be the prince that was promised. Our son will be what Aegon the First prophesied.” He purred, speeding up his movements with his hand.

“I will fuck heirs into you, and you will give me the Prince that was promised.”

You whimpered as he became rougher, the sounds of his leather breeches being untied behind you. Aemond’s thumb rubbed against your clit as he continued to fuck his fingers inside of you, wetness begin to drip down his hand. You moaned at the sudden combined pleasure.

“Each time you deny me, you deny his word.” His hand became rougher, “Each time you bite at me, you desecrate his vision.”

Your head spun as the coil within you tightened faster and faster, his knuckles beating bruisingly against the soft flesh of your thighs.

“And each time you refuse to see it, you delay the prophecy from coming to fruition.” He growled, thumb pressing against your pearl sharply, and suddenly your peak was ripped from you painfully and viciously, back curled as you tried to pull your hips away from his fingers that never slowed their motions.

Aemond continued to fuck his hand into you through your release, sobs and gasps spilling from your lips until he finally pulled his digits from your core, your walls clenching and spasming around nothing.

He wiped the wetness along your inner thighs, trails of your slick coating them. Your body hummed from the abrupt orgasm, and your mind was hazed as you tried to wade through the thick sludge to think clearly.

From her blood the Prince that was promised?

The heat of Aemond’s body behind you disappeared, and you slowly pushed yourself up to stop leaning over the back of the lounge, turning your head to see where he had gone to.

Where was he?

Two large hands grasped at your cheeks and parted them, a tongue swiping from your pearl, all the way to your puckered hole.

You cried out and fell forward, hands losing their grip of the wood as Aemond began to seek out the release that leaked from within you with his tongue. His nose buried into your flesh as he lapped at your hole, tongue pushing inside to drink your essence.

Pleasure rippled through your body as you whimpered, a hand flying back to try and push him away from you, body jerking from overstimulation. Your hand dug into his hair pulling the soft locks. You felt Aemond groan into your cunt, vibrations shooting up through your body.

“I have missed this cunny.” He moaned.

"Your legs buckled slightly, fingers gripping his hair tighter, pulling him closer to your heat.

Aemond groaned happily into your folds, licking and suckling at your slick, tongue teasing your bud as his hands dug into your ass with a bruising grip. You felt pleasure mounting within you quickly and rapidly. The front of your hips digging painfully into the front of the chaise as you tried to pull away from his mouth, his lips latching around your bud as he sucked on it.

“Going to fill you with my seed.” He growled, pulling away from your core as your legs shook, eyes unfocused as you stared at the fire.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you let him continued to lick, and nibble at your folds, the tide mounting higher and higher within, until he latched his teeth upon your bud and sucked it sharply into his mouth.

You came undone with a wail. Blinding white behind your eyes as hot pleasure flooded through you, the force of the second peak causing you to slump against the back of the chaise.

Aemond rose behind you, placing wet kisses on the backs of your thighs, the curve of your ass, and a single kiss for each and every vertebrae he passed, until he pressed himself up against your back.

The thick head of Aemond’s cock brushed through your folds and you shuddered, overstimulation and exhausting pouring out of you. He rubbed the tip of his cock through your slick folds, humming as he moved down to your entrance, slowly sliding inside.

Aemond pushed himself to the hilt, your walls stratching to accomodate him, the head of his cock pushing up against your cervix. Your fingers curled into your palms as you held back a cry of pain and pleasure.

A large hand gripped the back of your neck, whilst the other slid itself around to grip your hip. He groaned as he seated himself inside of you, feeling your warm, wet walls gripping him tightly as he stilled within. You could feel his hot breath, fanning onto your neck at your ear as he bent over you.

Slowly, he pulled himself out, inch by inch, letting his shaft drag through your tender walls, veins rubbing against you deliciously as you fought to keep your moan in.

The tip stretched your entrance as it began to pull out, before Aemond slowly plunged back inside of you. Feeling your core clench around him as he hummed.

"Sīr ȳrda.” So tight, He moaned, hands gripping your neck and hip tightly, fingers digging into your tender flesh.

He began a steady pace, slowly pushing into your heat and pulling back out, almost as if he was teasing himself, working himself up to a frenzy as he relished in the feeling of your velvety walls.

Each thrust pushed your hips fighter into the chaise as his pelvis came flush against your backside, pushing himself as deep as he could go. It caused a pleasurable stretch as he opened you up for himself slowly.

“Bisa orvorta iksis ñuhon.” This cunt is mine.

Aemond’s pace began to quicken, the force building, your body being pushed into the hard oak of the chaise, its legs jolting against the stone floor as he rutted against you.

Pleasure began to bubble up within you again, it’s tendrils spreading through your body as it wrapped itself around each and every nerve ending within your body.

“The gods made you for me. They made you so perfect for my cock. So perfect. I'm going to fuck an heir into you.” He grunted thrusting into you with earnest, rapidly becoming more savage as he sought out his own pleasure.

“Going to fuck my seed into you and watch you swell with it.”

You moaned into the chambers, pleasure rising inside of you, mind lost to the world around you as you steadily moved towards your third release.

You wanted to let go. You needed it.

You were owed it.

And if it came from Aemond, so be it.

The echoes of his thrusts filled the room, the wet slapping of skin meeting skin, his breaths and grunts, and your tiny whimpers and mewls, surrounded you as he fucked you harder. The hand on your neck pulled you up flush against him, his arm moving to wrap itself under your chest, holding you to his chest.

“No one will have you. No one will touch you.” Aemond growled, “You’re mine. Mine. Always been mine, my zaldristos.” He purred, his thrusts pushing air out of your lungs as you limply leant into his chest.

“I’ll kill them. I’ll kill anyone who has you. Anyone who touches you. Iksā ñuhon.” You’re mine.

“Please.” You whimpered in his arms, peak rapidly rising as he continued to fuck into your wet heat, slick coating your thighs.

Aemond’s lips came to the juncture where your neck and throat met, a place where you had once stabbed him, and pressed his lips against you, sucking the skin harshly. His hand left your hip to come to your front, and skilled fingers dived between your folds to rub needy circles on your pearl in tandem with his thrusts.

Bursting hot pleasure rippled through you as he brought you closer, your mouth parting and an airy moan flitting through.

“Fuck.” He groaned, feeling you tighten around him, his fingers speeding up their movements as he continued to fuck you harder, almost pulling you from the floor with each thrust.

The knight outside your door could no doubt hear the sounds of your rutting. His grunts and your moans filled the space, and with every slap of his hips into your wet and wanting core, a high pitched whine would peal fourth from your lips.

Not even the thick oak doors could hide the sounds of such carnal pleasure.

“Iksā… sīr gevie.” You’re so beautiful, He grunted, pace becoming sloppy as his fingers raced to bring you to your peak.

His lips pressed to your ear as he nipped the lobe before whispering, all breathy and wanting.

All commanding and giving.

All at once.

“Come for me.”

The coil within you snapped.

You felt like you were floating.

Your body had no weight to it as you soared high into your third release, long moan falling from your mouth as you leant back into Aemond behind you, feeling his pace begin to falter as he felt your cunt gripping him tightly.

“Fuck.” You whimpered as he continued his pace, his thick cock jabbing sharply into your sensitive spot within, the head brushing it over and over, as you felt yourself soar higher into the pleasure.

It kept mounting and mounting, and you felt yourself hold your breath as a new, unfamiliar pleasure erupted within.

“Thats it, good girl.” Aemond purred, feeling your wetness burst forth from within, coating your thighs and dripping to the floor.

You cried out, feeling almost dizzy as your walls continued to squeeze around his length. Your release leaking from your body, pooling onto the stones below.

“Fuck.”

Aemond pressed his lips into the junction of your neck again, grunting as he pushed himself to the hilt within you, teeth scraping over your skin as he bit down roughly, drawing a loud pained gasp from you as he came undone.

Thick hot ropes of his spend coated your walls, filling you deeply as your head slumped back against his shoulder, his arms being the only thing holding you up from sliding down to the floor. You breathed heavily, fatigue hitting you as you felt Aemond’s cock throb inside you.

Your mind was gone as you stayed in his grip, the ebbs of your own pleasure still lingering. You were hot, and sticky, wet and tired, and Aemond kept you upright on his cock as he came down from his own peak.

Lips pressed against where teeth had been, a comforting gesture meant to soothe the aching flesh. Aemond shifted back, and you felt his cock begin to slide free from your core. You whimpered at the overwhelming sensation until you felt him pull out completely, his arms still holding you up. He breathed heavily behind you, catching his breath as he held you.

His sticky seed began to drip from your folds, sliding down your inner thighs as you stood in his grip. Your eyes became heavy, and your knees shook.

A kiss was pressed to the side of your head, and the world suddenly tilted.

Aemond lifted you from the floor, hand under your knees, and arm wrapped around your shoulders to hold you close to him as he steadily began to walk towards the bed. His chest radiated heat onto your body as he held you close.

You were so tired, you could barely keep your eyes open, letting the man gently place you down onto your side of the bed. Your eyes shut, the vision of Aemond moving away from you to the side of the room, replaced with the comfort of darkness.

The bed dipped and warmth settled beside you as you let your breath even and the dregs of sleep begin to pull you under. A gentle hand brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, before trailing down the rest of your body. You felt Aemond’s heated gaze and cracked open an eye to look at him.

He was watching you intently, brow covered in sweat, shirt and pants finally removed.

Bare to the world, just as you were.

His silver locks were tousled and messed, completely down and pushed back behind his shoulders. You let your eye gaze to where the scar was on his shoulder, your own flesh aching in its spot.

“Even Hell Cats would fear you.” He murmured, hand trailing down your body as his gaze moved to between your thighs.

You shifted, feeling exposed.

Two fingers trailed down over your mound and you moved to wriggle out of his reach.

“Keligon.” Stop.

You stopped.

His fingers dipped between your folds and you jerked, you were far too sensitive and overstimulated for anymore, but his fingers kept travelling down to your soaked entrance.

With two fingers, Aemond scooped up his seed which had begun to leak from within you, pushing it back inside of you with great care. Your back arched off of the bed as he kept his fingers inside of you.

“Don’t want to waste it.” He purred, keeping his fingers inside you, plugging you full of his seed.

You whimpered and shifted as they sat inside of you, until he pulled them up, fingers coming straight to his lips as he licked your combined releases from his fingers. Aemond hummed as he watched you, wrapping his tongue around each digit as a blush rose on your cheeks.

Your core clenched around nothing and you felt a breathy whimper escape you.

It was all involuntary, you told yourself.

It was all a reaction to what he gave you.

Once licked clean, Aemond’s tongue wet his lips before he leant forward towards you, pressing a chaste kiss to one of your eyes. You closed them out of instinct and felt your uncle pull the blankets up and around you, tugging you against his body. You could feel his softened member between your thighs begin to harden again, but he made no move to act on it.

Instead, Aemond pressed another kiss to your shoulder and mumbled beneath his breath. You were so tired, and his body was so warm, a strange comfort you learnt, that your lids stayed shut, and eventually the comforts of sleep pulled you into its depths.

And from her blood, the Prince that was promised.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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thecapricunt1616 · 10 months ago

Text

The Bear & His Honey Chapter 4

Inspo: Quote- “ Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me- I should know. I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door.” Dedication: @daysofyellowroses - bestie thank you for inspiring and encouraging me to write. I haven’t felt more alive and inspired then I have in the past few days writing again. Thank you!! This is for you loveyyyy. Summary: Winnie & Carmy get closer. Have a marg over a mini therapy session, Winnie fixes up Carm’s panic injury. They find out there may just have been a single thread of gold tying them together the entire time. W/C: 5,484 A/N: Oh my lanta y’all!! 2 chapters in one day?! I promise- PROMISEEE tonight I am figuring a master list out, because I (myself) have been struggling to keep things canon to the story by having to scroll and scroll through my page to find each part to see what I said for Winnie, LOL! So get hype for that, I love this chapter even more then the last bc it has more Carmy, but Richie is so fun to write and I can’t wait for he&Winnies friendship to bloom!!! For my canon Carmy continues going to therapy once or so a week / a support group type talk therapy so that is why he shares more than he would in the show. It’s on his one day off so that’s why he is able to continue making it, and he thrives on routine so going once a week keeps him regulated. Warnings for BTC: A little bit of smut, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of vehicular accidents ending in death, mentions of self-harm, mentions of severe injury, negative self-talk, feminine yearning (ofc), fluffy fluff (enough for your teeth to rot out of ur face), panic disorder, mentions of a panic attack, heavy petting, alcohol, mentions of smoking cigarettes, mental health issues, exhausted Carmy LOL

𝒞𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒪𝓊𝓉 𝑀𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉!

Read Chapter 3

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The door flings open and before I could even get a good look at him his arms were wrapped tightly around my waist, his large hands resting on my rib cage, and thumbs gently rubbing soothing strokes. I gasped a bit in surprise at the contact, his muscular chest pressed to mine. Pulling me tighter and he nuzzles his face in my neck, his hot breath causing goosebumps to appear all over my skin. I inhaled his scent, a bit of his musky spicy cologne still left over after the long day, cigarette smoke, and a day of working, but he didn’t smell bad at all. I would buy a fucking candle of it if I could, and never burn it so it lasts forever.

He needed this hug.

“Thank you f’ comin’, Winnie. I really need a drink, like now” he said quietly and I bit my lip, my hands rubbing soothing circles in the middle of his back. “Course, you think I’d turn down a free drinky-drink from the sexiest little Chef boy in Chicago?” He chuckled into my neck, feeling a small smile press into my skin. “I’m sorry” he pulls away and I finally am able to look at him.

His hair is a mess, cheeks are stained red, his eyes are bloodshot and glazed over like he’d been crying, he rubs the back of his neck and I see a bit of smeared blood over his forearm. “It’s- it’s okay, hard day?” I asked, twiddling my fingers anxiously, worried he was going to ask me to leave and tell me that it wasn’t a good time anymore. “Ye’” he replied in a sigh and I swallowed hard.

“D-did you- sorry,” my voice coming out small and meek. I clear my throat “Was it- not a good time for you? It’s fine, totally, totally fine…should have given my number I guess - but I can-“ I motion my thumb to the door down the hall.

“No! No, please, stay. It’s - it’ll be nice. To like- to see you. I meant sorry about,” he squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head “sorry for like- flinging myself on you?” He says and I giggle, causing him to look at me.

“I love hugs! You give great hugs, is that why your sister calls you Bear? Oh my god!! Wait. This is your- that’s so cool, Carmen! You’re so cool!” I motioned to the restaurant, alluding to the name. “That’s so fuckin cool dude!” He smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets shyly and looking at his feet.

“Thank you, but- uh. No. I’m not…usually a hugger which is why I’m also surprised I did that, guess I needed it. They call me bear cause - well. Don’t poke the bear kinda thing” he said and I took a few steps forward, our toes almost touching and his eyes met mine again. I raise my hand, and gently poke the flower tattoo adorning his left arm with my forefinger and smile. “Gonna bite me?” I quip, lifting my hands and poking short pokes all over his chest and he laughs a bit.

“Y’re cute” he said and I put a final poke on his nose, blush rising to my cheeks at the statement. “And very thirsty. Pour me a drink will you, bartender?” I turned around on the ball of my foot swiftly, walking with pep back into the kitchen and I look back at him, to find his eyes practically undressing me from where I’d left him moments ago. I grin, putting my hands on my hips “You staring at my ass isn’t making me any less thirsty over here, bartender!” I said and he blushes “sorry…sorry”

He comes out and places a hand at the small of my back leading me to the main part of the restaurant and towards the bar “you just - uh…you look really good. I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to get home, I wanted to but - shit just got outta control, Syd forgot about this huge cannoli order and we forgot to get the powdered sugar with the last resupply so I had to make powdered sugar - it was just-” I rub my hand up his arm gently, stopping him and grabbing his attention.

“It’s fine Carmen. You look fine. I’ll admit, a little bit tired. But you worked all day, I’ve been there” I shrug and he nods a bit, “thanks” he said softly walking behind the bar. I get up on one of the bar stools, crossing my legs and resting my chin in my palm looking over the restaurant and tapping my nails on the table. “This place is super nice, Carm, you should be so proud of yourself. It feels fancy but inviting too.” I hum admiring the lights and artwork on the walls.

“Why thank you, we all worked really hard. I’m surprised it came together every day, but super grateful.” He said, taking Patron off of the middle shelf and scooping ice into the mixer, counting to himself as he pours it. “Doesn’t show, you run a tight ship it sounds, Chef” I smiled. He snorts “how would you know? Or is it just the pans from earlier” he said and threw a few slices of jalapeño, lime, and mint in to the cup before closing it tightly and shaking.

“Yes and no, Richie told me, said that you were a good boy today though, and your sister was the one causing trouble” blush creeps into his cheeks. “Ye’ and see what happens when I’m ‘good’ as you told me to do? Shit got fucked” he pours in some club soda and mixes it with a bar spoon before pouring us both a glass. “Mmmm. Was that because you weren’t barking orders, or because something happened out of your control, and you’re blaming yourself?” I asked honestly and he set my glass down in front of me, biting his lip for a moment.

“Everything is out of my fucking control” he muttered and shook his head, as if it was a quiet, painful reminder to himself. “Most things, in most people’s lives, are out of our control” I gently rest my hand over his and he meets my eyes. “The only things you can control is if, and when you fall apart, and how well you glue yourself back together.” I said earnestly and he swallows thickly, nodding.

“I like that..thank you” he said and I nod. “Don’t worry, I won’t charge you- this time. But d’ya think I can get a fancy umbrella or somethin’ for this drink?” I smiled and nudged it toward him, he chuckled, shaking his head “you are somethin’ else, Winnie” he crouches down behind the bar with a grunt.

“Fuck. I’m 26 but my back feels 90” he said and I laughed a bit. “It’s all the cookin’! And being on your feet too damn much, My mom is a massage therapist, you should let me give you a massage sometime.” I said and he got back up, groaning dramatically which made me giggle. “For you, dear.” He drops a little pink umbrella into my cup.

“Oh my goodness you poor thing. Come sit down” I pat the spot next to me and plucked my bag off the seat, hanging it off the back of my chair. He comes around the bar, plopping down in the chair next to me with a sigh of relief. “I will absolutely take you up on your massage offer sometime.” He said, rubbing over his face tiredly and running his hands through his muss of curls before taking a sip of his own drink.

“Please do, I’ll pull out all the stops for ya’, but just so you know- a happy ending comes with a pretty cost” I said flirtatiously and nudged his leg with my boot playfully. He chuckled and looked over at me “yea? Thanks for the heads up I’ll be sure to budget accordingly for my trip to Winnie’s Massage Parlor” he teased and I laughed a bit.

“Yess!! Please do! There’s also Winnie’s salon, Winnie's hospital, and Winnie’s library!! Come by for all your daily needs I’ma’ Jane of all trades” I shrug and take another sip of my drink. “Speaking of” I take his left arm, looking at the inner part near the crook, where 4 large scratches were, done so violently that the skin beneath was turning into a speckled bruise meaning by morning it would be a dark purple.

“What happened?” I ask softly, my finger tip gently brushing over the untouched skin over the smeared, dried out blood below the wound. “Ahh-“ he shakes his head “it’s stupid. It’s not even bad don’t worry about it” he said and I looked at him, concerned. “Did- did Sug-“ he cuts me off quickly “Sugar, would never hurt me.” He said, his tone was deadly serious.

I nodded quickly, swallowing hard. “Okay, Carm, I believe you” I said softly and squeezed his wrist gently. “Will you…let me take care of you- please?” I ask quietly, looking into his eyes, my gaze pleading for a yes.

“So Winnie’s hospital is mobile?” He said with a small teasing smile. I roll my eyes playfully. “Yes, let’s go find the first aid kit, and honestly it’s pretty but like - empty in here and… I dunno” I bit my lip, hoping he got the hint and he nods “sure we - we can uh. Yeah. Let’s go sit in Sugars office. She has a couch” I nodded and hopped off the seat, gasping when the corner of it hooks onto the hem of my skirt as I get down and pulls it up, exposing my backside clad in a lacy red thong through the sheer bum part of my fleeced nylons.

“Oh my god!” I blurt as I quickly pulled it back down, my cheeks on fire, and my heart pounding in embarrassment. I hear Carmen burst out in laughter behind me making my embarrassment grow and I turned around, crossing my arms over my chest, my eyebrows becoming furrowed. “Hey!” I snip “what’s so funny!! Why were you looking peeping tom!” I whine and he covers his mouth to stifle the laughter.

“To make sure your munchkin self didn’t trip off of the stool in those clunky ass boots!! Being a gentleman really paid off for me there” he said and I went over slapping his arm gently with a smile growing on my face. “I guess it’s a good thing I wore panties or I would’ve mooned you” I grab my drink and turn around, a surprised chuckle coming from him.

“Holy shit, you go commando?” He asks, holding the kitchen door open for me “sometimes, she needs to breathe!!” I said with a shrug and pushed my bag up on my shoulder as I followed him back to Sugars office. “But what if you get horny?” He asked and I laughed, nudging him with my elbow. “Dude!! Richie said you were not forward with girls, that’s pretty forward” I set my bag down on sugars desk and he plops down on the big comfy sofa pulling out a recliner on his side and he sighs, closing his eyes.

“Gimme a sec’ this is the first time my feet are up since 1” he said and I sat down next to him, “you haven’t sat down since I left?!” I asked and he shook his head, opening his eyes and head falling to the side on the cushion to look at me. “Mm-mm” he hummed in response. “Where’s the first aid kit? I’ll find it” I said and he rubs his face, thinking.

“Uhhh. Oh there’s one in here actually, go over to the other side of Sug’s desk, it should be tucked there next to the wall” he said and took a sip of his drink. I got up, going where he said and I leaned over, completely forgetting the rules of skirts by mistake. “You’re a fucking tease” he said lowly and my heart pounds, my stomach fluttering wildly, and my core beginning to twitch and throb in excitement.

“What’s not nice about helping a new friend clean up their boo-boo’s?” I asked innocently, a small smile on my lips as I turned and sat down on the couch on the cushion next to him. He smirks “you…are gonna make me crazy” he said softly and closed his eyes, resting his head on the back of the sofa. I opened the kit, taking out hand sanitizer, saline wipes, gauze, and triple antibiotic.

“Wait-“ he said his eyes flickering open “you- you met Richie?” He asks as if I hadn’t been mentioning him since I walked in the door, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “It’s like- the first thing I said when I got here.” I said and he sighs softly. “I’m…sorry.” He finally said, like he was contemplating whether to say more. “That’s ok, you had a hard day” I took his arm gently, laying it across my lap. “What did he say? How bad did he embarrass me?” He questions and I giggle a bit, sanitizing my hands before opening a saline wipe.

“Not at all! He said you’re shy with girls, that he’s surprised you asked me out cause he thinks I’m pretty, and apparently, doesn’t think you are very funny- but I on the other hand, seemed to make him laugh a lot so- got you beat” I teased with a smile as I ever gently wipe over the wounds.

He snorts “well, you are pretty, he’s an asshole but right.” He said and I looked up at him “not many people make me laugh anymore, you seem to, though.” I said honestly, and he tugs his lip between his teeth to catch a grin from taking over his features. “Yea?” He asks quietly with a blush going across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. “Mmhmm” I hum in reply, putting the ointment on and carefully rubbing it in.

It was quiet for a moment before he says “I’m sorry.” Causing me to look up at him, but his gaze was stuck on the ceiling. “This wasn’t - I wanted to do something nice for you and… I’m sorry.” I stop working on his arm “sorry for what, Carm? This is so nice. The drink is really good, thank you for making it, I’m glad to be here.” I said honestly and placed my hand on top his.

His icy blue eyes meet mine, looking over my face slowly and locking on my lips. His eyes flick back to mine when he responds “you just look so pretty, like you should be on a real date. Not here fuckin-“ he sighs, looking down at his arm then back at me. “Dealing with my stupid mistake.” I shook my head and wrapped up his arm with a bandage to keep it clean and dry while he slept and it could scab over.

“This is a real date. You own a restaurant. Carmen. Look at me.” I order and he looks into my eyes. “You, just you, asking me to come see you, to be together, to get to know each other? You are enough. This is a date. An awesome date. I’m having fun, are you having fun?” I asked and he smiled a bit.

“No, but….” He trails off, looking at his lap and I felt my heart physically ache, my face drooping “peace” he finally said “I feel…at peace, with you around. I noticed it when we were outside earlier, I came out for a smoke cause I was about to absolutely loose it on Syd, and I don’t- I- I can’t do that to her. So I went out and I totally forgot my light and then..you were there and I forgot about everything.” He said.

Goosebumps arise on my skin at the admission, the warmth in my chest returning at full force. “And - I thought about you…all day- all-all day. Not like- god I sound like a creep” he takes his arm, rubbing his face in embarrassment. “I thought about you too.” I reply softly. “I thought about you…a lot. Actually.” I bit my lip and his eyes met mine, searching for truth and it was all he found in my locked gaze.

“Not like- I just couldn’t understand how I felt. But the more I think… I do this thing.” He rubs his chin as he thinks. “Learned it in therapy, they said when you can’t figure out how a person or a situation made you feel, you can like think of people and situations that you do know how you feel about, and keep comparing them until you find a match. S-so when I thought of you.” He swallows thickly and I sit up, completely entrenched in listening to him.

“I found that things that gave me the same feelings w-were like…my one day off a week that I don’t have to be here. I think of…the fucking morning I went to Central Park and watched the sunrise and it was so..so quiet. I think- I think” he presses his lips together. “O-of-of Mikey. Of my brother. He’s dead. But. H-he. He protected me a lot, growin’ up. Helped me out. A lot. I felt like when Mikey was around, it was alright. And that’s how I felt earlier. I’m sorry-“ he shakes his head, putting the recliner down and finishing off his drink.

“Why?” I ask and squeeze his hand “that’s…so, so sweet. You make me feel at peace too, unless you’re angry- but I was worried for you and what happened. I’m so happy I make you feel like that, Carmen. Thank you for sharing, may I hug you?” I ask gently and he looks at me a bit surprised. “Y-yea ‘fcourse c’mere” he opened his arms and I wrapped him in a warm embrace. “The way you make me laugh makes me feel the way my brother did when he made me laugh, we were twins. He died.” I said just above a whisper.

He rests his cheek on the top of my head, rubbing soothing circles in my back as I did for him earlier. “I’m so sorry, what was his name?” He asked, equally as quiet. “Chris, Christopher” I felt my lip quiver, that never dulling ache in my chest throbbing at the memory of him.

“Oh, wow” he whispered “Winnie and Christopher” I felt him smiling on my hair “your parents knew what they were doin’ with names, that’s adorable.” He said and I smiled a bit. “Thank you, can you guess what our nursery was?” I look up at him and he raises his eyebrows.

“Hmm.. let me think. Oh! I know, Dumbo?” He says sarcastically and I laugh, closing my eyes and nuzzling my face in his neck “Silly. Winnie the Pooh, I always said it was my room, because they had a big wall sticker of Winnie and all his animal friends, but not one of Christopher since they couldn’t find one. He hated that” I said and his fingers gently rubbed over the spot of bare skin between my skirt and my top. I feel him chuckle a bit “that’s cute” he said.

“How did Mikey…” I trail off, his fingers stilling. “Shot ‘emself” he said plainly and my hug around his torso tightens “I’m so sorry” I whisper in to his skin. “What about Chris?” He asked and I swallowed thickly. “We got in a motorcycle accident. I still can’t talk about it.” I said as evenly and emotionlessly as I could, if I opened that flood gate there was no shutting it.

“Oh- my god. Wow. I’m so sorry, I’m so glad you’re….” He trails off, realizing the other victim was very much not ok in any sense of the word. I sit up, taking my half full drink off the table and drinking it down in 3 big gulps. “Want another?” He asks and I shake my head, “work tomorrow” I said and he nods, “yeah me too” he muttered rubbing over his face.

“Can I…get your number?” I asked and he nodded sitting up “course you can” he said and took his phone out of his pocket, logged in and opened up a new contact screen, offering it to me. “Only if I can have yours” he said with a small smile. “Of course!!” I took it from him.

Winnie 🍯

I put as the contact name, and type in my number, hitting save before handing it back. I do the same for him on my phone and hand it to him, when it’s returned, I see

Carm🐻

I smile, deleting the emoji and switching it for a 🧸 instead. I show him with a tilt of my wrist “cause your awesome hugs.” I said and smiled, saving it again. He blushes, smiling and shaking his head “I think you’re the one who gives good hugs, you smell like honey and you’re all soft.” He said and I giggle. “I’m glad you like my perfume” I said and pushed my hair behind my shoulders.

“I do, it’s very nice. You live around here?” He asks and I nod “2 blocks that-a-way” I point behind us and he raises his eyebrows. “Really, what street?” He asked “Kensington Ave. The brownstones” I said and he chuckled “No shit. I live in the high rise across the way” he said and my mouth drops. “Wow. Work neighbors, and building neighbors, we’ve never met?” I giggle “you've been avoiding me?” I ask and he chuckles “never, uhh. I’m like never home. I go there to sleep for a few hours, and my days off I…sleep…the whole day usually, I usually get home around 1am and leave at like 4ish, sometimes 5 if I sleep in” I raise my eyebrows in disbelief.

“3 hours of sleep and you wonder why you feel 90? You need to sleep Carmen. You’re gonna have a heart attack.” I said and he chuckled. “If I would only be that lucky'' he joked, taking our empty glasses to the kitchen and I followed him “no- i'm serious, like you’re gonna drive yourself nuts.” I said, leaning on the counter watching him wash the glasses.

“I am already there sweetheart don’t worry, been there- ahh let’s see, 20? Maybe 19. So 7 years of insanity give or take.” He said and I giggled, shaking my head. “You are not nuts. A crazy person couldn’t run a restaurant.” I said and he snorted “that speaking is the mind of someone who doesn’t work in a restaurant. No, you have to be a psycho to do this shit. Especially at the level I do it.” He shuts off the sink, putting the cups on the drying rack and leaning on his elbows on the table mirroring me from across.

“I think you’re very, very passionate.” I brush his curls from his eyes “and that you sometimes get in your own way by not allowing people to help you.. which can make things harder” I said and he smiled, amusedly. “How do you already know so much about me, have you been stalking and avoiding me so I don’t find out?” He teases and I laugh. “Shut up, no. I have not. I dunno… like our souls know each other. That’s how I feel.” I shrug, crossing my hands under my chin and looking at him.

“Hmm” he says. “Do you believe in past lives?” He asks and I nod “for sure. And future ones. I don’t think we can learn everything in one go that our souls need” I shrug and he nods a bit. “We need to talk more about this when I don’t have a pounding headache from being so overtired” he said softly and I pout, “c'mon let’s walk home.” I said and headed back to the office to grab my things.

“I just have to go to the back and get my stuff gimme a few” he said from the kitchen. I waited by the island, shawl back on and bag on my shoulder. When he comes back out, my breath gets caught in my throat. Hes wearing delicious light grey sweatpants, blue Nike sneakers, and a plain white champion hoodie. As he lifted his arms to put his backpack on, the hoodie rode up, revealing his tight, toned stomach, and deep, deep V line. I lick my lips, imagining myself on my knees worshiping his god-like figure and he clears his throat.

I looked up again, realizing he completely caught me red handed checking him out like the hottest new library book and I felt my cheeks heat, giving a shy smile. “Ready?” He asked and I nod “ready” I said meekly, mentally face palming for my lack of discretion. “Y’know it’s not a bad thing to check me out, right? I guess for earlier you can call us even” He asked as we walked down the hallway and I nearly tripped over my own feet at the boldness. “Fuck you” I roll my eyes playfully and he opens the door for me.

“I’m a little tired right now, but for you? Anything. Your place or mine?” He asked and I laughed, slapping his chest playfully “you are a naughty, naughty little boy” I teased, wrapping my arms around his bicep as we walked. “Just letting you know allll the ways this glorious date could end” he said, a smug smirk on his face and I shook my head, looking at the sidewalk.

This was so nice. I usually am needing to check behind me every couple steps, am tensing at every noise or stranger I pass, but with Carmen I feel protected. Secure.

“I’ve never actually been able to enjoy this at night, I’m always looking over my shoulder wondering if I need to get my switchblade out” I chuckle shaking my head. “Switchblade? Damn. Can I see it?” He asks and I nod, digging in my purse and pulling out the pink knife attached with a MyMelody keychain to a can of mace.

I pulled away from him, hopping a few steps ahead. “Everybody watch out! I’m a woman that’s armed and dangerous!!” I giggle, clicking the little button and the hello kitty blade swings out with a click. He laughs, and I faced him, waving it around the air in front of me lightly “what’s so funny huh? I’m menacing Carmen, imagine I mugged you right now with a hello kitty knife” I said, causing him to laugh harder, clutching his stomach.

“Oh my god - please” he snorts in laughter causing me to laugh. “Awww little piggy!!” I teased and he gasps pretending to be offended. “okay! Rude! You better not snort ever or you’ll be the piggy miss” he said making me start laughing again “you are at my mercy right now, sir, have you so easily forgotten?” I gently wave the pewny knife in front of his face.

“Oh you sweet thing. I know you wouldn’t hurt a fly.” He plucks it from my fingers easily, closing it. “Only because I have the strongest little chef in all of Chicago to protect me. My knight in sexy gray sweatpants and a white sweatshirt” I mused, a playful smile dancing on my lips. “Mmm ok we’re getting there. I don’t like the little part, but- we’ll get there” he joked, dropping the knife back in my purse.

“Oh, yeah?” I said, grabbing his arm again as we continued, our buildings come in to view. One of my hands trains down his arm, slinking my fingers to wrap between his. “Mmhmm” he hummed.

I stopped again, standing in front of him and wrapping my arms around his neck loosely, standing on my tip-toes even in my heels to reach his ear. “I think that you know, that I know, you’re the sexiest, most hard working, passionate, gentleman - that I’ve ever had the pleasure of having a chance with. And I also think that you know, I have bratty tendencies, and love pulling your chain because I know it gets you going. You wanna know what I’m 100% sure of, though?” My sultry hot breath caused goosebumps to come up on his neck, his hands wrapping around my waist and squeezing gently. “Was’ that baby” he said softly, his voice laced with desire. I lace my fingers in his hair, gently tugging at his frizzy curls from the day.

“I’m sure that you need a brat. Because what you need, Carmy.” I nibbled at his ear gently. His breath hitches in his throat, biting his lip to silence a soft moan. I wasn’t quite sure where all of this raw confidence and honesty was coming from, likely from the strong drink Carmy had made and my being a lightweight.

“Is to be able to force someone in their place, and have full unrelinquished control over the entire situation. For someone to give themselves to you, be fully yours. To use. To love. To worship. Whatever you desire. Cause you’re a control freak. But that’s sexy, that’s soo sexy. I love a man who knows what he needs” I place a soft, lingering kiss on his racing pulse point.

His hands trail down, cupping my ass before squeezing roughly and I moan softly at the contact. His hands were so strong, so large, but somehow the touch was still lacking confidence. “C-can I” he says softly, “can I kiss you, please?” He whispers. I lift my face to meet his, our noses brushing as I rest my forehead on his, looking into his eyes. His pupils were blown wide from both the dark and lust, the only peak of blue being a tiny sliver.

“That depends,” I said with a smirk adorning my lips, I nuzzle my nose against his gently. “Will you kiss me how you want, Carm? Or how you think I want?” I ask and he licks his lips. “I want to make you happy” he whispers, I twirl a curl at the base of his neck around my finger. “It will make me happy, if you take what you want from me” I whispered.

Before I could blink, his lips were on mine, kissing me hungrily- a war of tongue and lips, my fingers tightening around his hair and tugging smiling proudly when he moaned into my mouth. His hands trail my skirt, lifting it slightly to massage my backside in his hands wantingly. I let him take me, dominate me, own me in that moment, matching his hot feverish kisses as well as the sweet, gentle ones. We only broke apart to breathe, our chests rising and falling at an equal rapid pace. His lips were slick from our kiss, swollen from the rough encounter. He was beautiful.

The only sound was the infrequent car passing, or the sound of the crickets that had made their homes in the small patches of grass on the side of the sidewalk that housed the trees.

“I want you to come to family”

Read Chapter 5 Here!

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago

Text

Scale Soother

Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Cregan Stark x Reader

Summary: "Fine," the king quips, "tell me, then, how it is you managed to tame this dragon?" He looks off to the side and watches as the creature stares at him, as if unwilling to let him out of his sight. "The secret is, your grace," I shake my head, "I did not."

Word Count: 10k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, VERY alternate universe, very self-indulgent fic, made up lore, internet translated high valyrian/Astapori Valyrian, ye old misogyny, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: if you have any quarrels with my made up lore or my high/astapori valyrian, i'll tell you right now, youre right im wrong, so just roll with it ok. also i made a song for this fic cos im a music student and i well wanted to (very self-indulgent as i said) and YES my pronunciation in it is inconsistent and i missed some syllables but its fine shhhhhh roll w it. Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui

dārilaros se zaldrīzes

(princess and dragon)

konīr iksin iā zaldrīzes bona glaestan isse se guēsin (there was a dragon that lived in the forest) konīr iksin iā dārilaros bona vāettan iā gevie vāedar (there was a princess that sung a beautiful song) se lanta sia mēre isse Perzys Ānogār (and two were one in fire and blood) se mēre tubis kessi udrāzma se tegun (and one day they will rule the land)

I lick my lips as I blur the dark line on my paper. I look up and move to throw some mutton to the fox I was drawing, but perk up from my spot when I see that I would not be able to feed any beast, as I was now by myself.

Immediately, my instinct is to turn over my shoulder. I look behind me and roll my eyes at the man walking over to me, "sȳz syt doru gine." Good for nothing rat.

The tan skinned man shakes his head, making his longish, dark hair brush against his angular jaw, "ao ōdrio nyke." You wound me.

"Why are you even here?" I eye him, "you know nature despises you."

He sits down next to me on the ground and shrugs, "you know, just because the name of your house means 'red beast', doesn't mean you have to make it a point to draw foxes every single day," he eyes me and says the name of my house rather mockingly, "Milidyni."

I throw my head back and scoff, "this again?" I raise a brow at him, "you do know you are the worst perpetrator of living up to your name, Gael Valzȳrys," I stand and brush off my skirt, "and besides, I am helping my father as a beast scholar to catalog the creatures of the woods. You do nothing of the sort."

Gael watches me and I give him a look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he frowns as his thick dark brows move close together.

I knit my own brows at his expression and look up at him as he stands and towers over me, "are you seriously pretending you don't 'wife up'--" I look away and begin to walk off, "or at least attempt to-- every woman you set your eyes upon--" I turn back to him and give him a look, wording sardonically, "Husband?"

Gael scoffs, "it's hardly my fault women are willing to give up their maidenhoods to me. It's not like I make myself look as though I would actually be their valzȳrys," husband.

I cringe as I begin to navigate through the forest on the path back home, "no you are too correct," I clutch my notebook and my skirt in hand, "belonging to house Valzȳrys was too generous a name of the gods to bestow upon you," I look over my shoulder and raise a hand, "you should have belonged to house Live." Whore.

"Asha," Gael exclaims and makes a face, "how original."

Gael and I walk through the forest, bickering over names as we did. I smack him in the shoulder for insulting the name Kotova.

"Kotova is a beautiful name!" I point a finger at him.

He looks at me as though he is actually pained, and I do hope he is, as he should. He rubs his arm, "ao brōstan zirȳla se ēlī run bona istan ezīmagon aōha bartos!" You named her the first thing that went into your head!

"Sīr?" I quip, "ao ydragho hae ao ȳdra daor qogralbar se ēlī run ao ūndegon."

So? You speak like you don't fuck the first thing you see.

Gael laughs and moves close, "I have yet to fuck you, my s--"

He does not get to finish as suddenly there is a loud shriek from overhead, followed by the sound of long strides of large wings.

Gael flinches as we both look skyward. I grin where he exclaims out to the Harpy for deliverance. I turn to Gael as he grabs onto my arm. I laugh at him, "serves you right, cretin."

"Fucking cock block."

The assembly hall smelled like oranges, for the king had been haughtily eating them in the middle of his meeting. He looked like he was paying more attention to peeling the skin of his citrus rather than the droning report of Otto Hightower. But then again, that would not have been too out of the ordinary; he never liked him. It's a wonder he's still on the council.

Daemon had his feet up as sucked on an orange bud, unsure if he appreciated the fact it was wholly sweet with no hint of tanginess. He let out a soft belch and turned to his side, "cupbearer."

Rhaenyra straightens and turns to his uncle.

"Mirri averilla, riñītsos," says the king. Some wine, little girl.

Daemon raises his cup to his niece as she walks over with an ewer of wine. He pulls his legs off the table and assesses his cupbearer's dress, the one he gifted her for her recent nameday just a few night ago.

"Se ēnka iksis sȳz va ao," the king utters in their shared tongue, the color is good on you.

Rhaenyra smiles at him, "kirimvose, ñuha dārys."

Thank you, my king.

Daemon smiles as Rhaenyra pulls away after pouring him some wine. His smile flattens when his sight catches the cunt-Lord turning from the other Targaryen to him with pursed lips.

"I don't remember asking you to stop your report, Hightower," he raises his brows and shakes his head expectantly.

Otto shifts from where he stood, "no, your majesty."

Daemon leans on his chair at the head of the table, downing a large gulp of wine. It's bitter and sour, just as he hoped, and it complimented his oranges exquisitely.

"And then there is a matter of a dragon, your grace," Otto says rather gravely, out of character even for his usually tedious demeanor.

The rest of the council members turn to him while Daemon looks out the window and thinks, 'ah, yes, I would so adore to ride off with Caraxes at this time'.

"Many of our trade partners from Essos have given consistent and wearisome accounts about the dragon in the area nicknamed Forest Fire."

"Huh," the king chuckles, turning back to Otto. He finally has Daemon's attention.

"How quaint."

"Yes," Otto speaks flatly, "the quaint abomination has burned down forests for sport and left a great many casualties in its stead, hindering trade and damaging goods, our trade goods"

Daemon puts his cup down and shrugs slightly, "so? There is a lose dragon in Essos. My business with the savages that live there are as far and few as my business with the dragon toying with them. We do not rely on Essos. Cease trade if you must."

Otto rolls his shoulders back and clutches his hands in front of him. He clenches his jaw and allows for the faintest of grins to pull on his lips. Daemon was actually unsure if it was a grin or if he was in pain.

"That would have been my own thoughts as solution, my king, had that dragon not had a rider."

Daemon blinks.

Otto relaxes his shoulders.

Rhaenyra from the side looks between her best friend's father and her uncle with a lowered jaw.

A chorus of utterances fall from the lips of the Lords at the table, things along the line of 'a rider?,' 'impossible,' and general grumbles of disbelief.

Daemon reaches his hand out to the marble sphere before him and tilts his head at Otto. He swirls his tongue on the roof of his mouth, savoring the remnants of snack, then tilts his head to the lord, "are you implying that someone from my family has adopted one too many mounts in their keep and has made a game of toying with some low lives in the east?"

"I am saying," Otto shifts on his leg, "that there is a dragon out there whose mount is not from your family."

Daemon stills.

Rhaenyra's mouth falls wider.

The lords lose their shit.

And for a moment, there is a continous streak of worried mumbles.

Lord Velaryon from across the table, in fact, adopted a deep line between his brows upon hearing this.

But then suddenly, the king laughs and silences everyone.

Daemon laughs so hard that he clutches his stomach as his amusement echoes around the room.

Rhaenyra is extremely agitated by the response of her uncle and how the council reacts to him.

Daemon lets out a sigh once he's satisfied himself and slumps on his chair, "my," he lets out a deep breath, "I do say I believe a thanks is in order, chum," he wipes a tear, "That is, in all honestly, the funniest you have ever been the entire time you've been at court," he straightens up, "or, methinks, your entire life," he chuckles.

Otto Hightower does not share the sentiment. He does not find himself particularly fond of being called chum by the king either. "I assure you, your grace," he shakes his head, "I do not jest."

Daemon's smirk does not falter.

"You would agree with me when I say I do not know how," the lord adds.

Otto sees no change or belief in the king's expression so, he instead turns to the king's hand, Lord Strong, "this issue has come to my attention less than week prior, and since then, I have been securing information about the so-called Forest Fire so that I could raise the matter to the king."

Lord Hand meant speak, but the King beats him to it, "and why did you not notify me of this the said week prior?"

Otto turns to the king.

Daemon is now hard and unamused. He leans on his elbows and raises his brows accusingly at him.

Otto narrows his eyes, "I did not wish to add to the flame of a mummer's farce, my king."

"Then humor me, Hightower," he raises his brows, "in detail," he leans on the table, "what do you know of this Forest Fire?"

"Kiba," I huffed as I entered my home through the back door, "I spied four horses come down the road on my way here. Did you-"

I halt in both my steps and my words when I am face to face with a tall man in a deep green coat. The scent of his oils and perfume are poke into my nostrils as though it was done with a stick.

I walk back and let out a breath, "skoros se qogralbar?" What the fuck?

"Five horses," someone mutters. I hear a laugh and turn to my side, "my, I see the lady has come just in time."

I move back at the sight of the devious looking man with alabaster hair and purple eyes. I clutch my skirt and turn away from him, finding my father holding cups and a pitcher, same with our servant.

Immediately, I rush over to the man and mutter in a low voice, "kiba, issi ao isse pelrar?" Father, are you in trouble?

My father hands me a cup and cocks his head to the side, quickly muttering, "daor, ñuha prūmia, issa ao qilōni iksis isse pelrar." No, my heart, it is you who is in trouble.

My eyes dart to the silver haired man muttering something to a silver haired girl. My father pours into the cup in my hand, then the one in his.

"King Daemon," my father says and offers the drink to him.

I wordlessly follow suit and offer the cup to the person beside King Daemon.

"Thank you," she says to me.

The man beside her raises a brow, "will you not greet the princess?"

I turn to the king then the princess, offering a curtsy, "princess..."

"Rhaenyra," he adds.

I turn to him and repeat, "Rhaenyra."

The king tilts his head. The high collar of his leathery black tunic was adorned with an eccentric ruby necklace and the fingers that were gripping the bronze cups we only used when we had guests were all clad with golden rings, "do you honestly expect me to believe you don't know who she is, who we are-- who I am?"

"Kepus," mutters Rhaenyra. Her dainty hand comes to the arm of her uncle. Her violet eyes and rosy cheeks move to his duller face in comparison. Her features are complimented by the deep velvet red of her dress and the intricate braids of her light hair.

I smooth out my orange corset and red skirt, "you are King Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen," I smile softly.

I can practically feel my father tense in anticipation of my next words.

"You are all guests to our humble abode."

Father lets out a soft breath.

"I am here for your Forest Fire," the king replies quickly.

I pull my head back and frown, "forest fire?"

King Daemon narrows his eyes and looks past me.

"We have reports-"

I turn and find the odorous man was speaking.

"-that a dragon has been going about burning through trees and people, thus the nickname, Forest Fire."

I suck in a breath and feel my breathing tighten at the insulting words of the man, "I assure you, ser," I knit my brows and frown, "I have no knowledge of this monster which you speak."

The tall man looks down upon me and tilts his head, "no?"

I hear my father call out my name lowly. I ignore his cautious tone, for he knows my words are true.

"Then tell me, Lady Milidyni," the man steps forward, "would you deny it still if I tell you your father has told all of us," he raises a hand, "that you came from the riverbank after riding upon the back of your dragon."

"I do not deny riding a dragon," I retort quickly, "but I say to you, whatever talk of forest fires you know of was not the doing of my mount."

"Pār emilā nyke pāsagon bona aōha zaldrīzes iksis rāpa se sȳz?"

I turn over my shoulder and find the raised brows of the king. He taps his finger on his cup and looks at me expectantly.

The princess watches me as I stare. She starts, "my uncle said, 'y--"

"Then you will have me believe that your dragon is soft and kind," I repeat the words perfectly. The silver haired princess presses her lips together.

"Nyke ȳdra daor gimigho skoros sȳz zaldrize emā isse Vesteros lo ao odabagho konir sagon skoros nyke nūmāzma," I retort.

I don't know what kind of dragons you have in Westeros if you think that is what I mean.

The king laughs through his nostrils then takes a sip of his wine. He pulls the cup away from his mouth and looks at it before saying, "you are amusing, little girl."

"I am not a little girl," I reply simply.

I hear my father call out my name. I turn over to him as he give me a look, "he is a king."

"Well, he's not our king."

"Beza tala kessa sagon se murgho yno," he sighs. This girl will be the death of me.

"Daor vasīr." Not yet, says the king, making me turn to him with a scowl. He hands my father his cup as he steps forward, "you will take us to your dragon at once."

I look up at him as he stands far too close to me for my liking. I raise my hand up to his chest and step back, "all of you?" I turn to the man in the green coat, the two armoured guards, the princess, then back to him, "my dragon is not used to seeing so many people."

He tilts his head and narrows his eyes, "ah, are you afraid he might hurt us?"

He turns to my hand when my palm connects with his sternum. I slightly push him back to prevent him from drawing any nearer, "I am afraid you might do something to taunt her."

"You think so-" he grabs my wrist, "-lowly of a king."

"No," I tilt my head up, "I assume what I know of your nature, Valyrian conqueror."

He seems to be pleased by that name. His lips curve into a lopsided smile, "then do not make me waste my time any further by stalling."

We stare at each other for a moment then I pull my hand away from him.

I turn about and gather my skirt, "lēda nyke." With me.

"Ñuhe kepe hobrenke usōvegon syt otāpagon bona ao lī daor shifang Valyrio Eglie," princess Rhaenyra offers as she walks up next to me.

I must apologize for thinking that you would not understand High Valyrian.

I turn to her as we walk over some branches on the ground.

"Gaomagon daor qubemagon aōla, dārilaros," the king mutters behind us, "ziry ȳdrā iā nādrēsy lūs hen īlva ēngos."

Do not lower yourself, princess. She speaks a bastard kind of our tongue.

"Kepus," she mutters, looking over to the king.

The king turns to me as I do the same. He raises his brows at me as he marches over a large rock, "iksin nyke pirta?" Am I wrong?

I ignore him and turn to the princess, "your uncle is correct. Astapori Valyrian is a branch of Bastard Valyrian languages. It has remnants of Old Ghiscari, which may be why you won't understand some of my words. I however I can understand you perfectly."

The man called Otto Hightower, as I was told, swats a bug flying over to him.

I turn to him and the two Kingsguard tailing after him just as the princess excitedly says, "that is so fascinating. I suppose that must be why your mount listens to you."

I chuckle at the words of the girl and push back a branch in our way, "my dragon does not merely listen to me because I speak Valyrian."

"Pray tell," the king steps between us, "do explain how why Forest Fire listens to a lowly wench like you."

I stop in my tracks and furrow my brows. He purses his lips and gives me a look.

"I wonder if you think I am inclined to give a courteous response to your crude words, Daemon Targaryen."

The corner of his lips twitch into a smirk, "King Daemon Targaryen."

"King," I repeat dryly. I turn away and walk off, releasing the branch, hoping it hits the man on his way.

Judging by his grunt, it does. I smile to myself.

"Insolent bitch, I ought to--" the clamors of the king are silenced by the shriek that causes a flock of birds to fly away.

I hasten my movements and secure my skirt in my hand, "I do suggest you calm yourself, king."

He does not respond as we all continue to the tread deeper into the thick, green forest. By the time I spot the flowing river, I turn to the king and mutter, "we're here."

I take the same route I always do, feeling the man follow closely behind me. He catches my arm when my shoe slips from a damp patch of soil and eyes me darkly as I turn to thank him out of instinct. I still thank him, but do so rather reluctantly.

"Do not do anything that will startle your ride," he mutters, releasing me.

"She is not extremely jittery like you, your grace."

Before he can respond, I am walking off.

"Iksan kesīr, Kotova," I call out as the familiar scent of dragon hits my nose, "eman sindita ragero lēda nyke."

I am here, Kotova. I have brought friends with me.

I turn to Daemon as he looks around. I cannot help but chuckle at the solemn look upon his face as he anticipates the dragon.

"She will not eat you," I hold back a smile, "I swear it."

"I am no fool," Daemon turns to me, "she does not have to eat me to kill me."

There is then a crescendo of crackling screeches. From the far off side, comes out then a largish, white winged beast, head cocking left and right as she slowly crawls out toward us. She was, in truth, only so much bigger than a carriage but her wings made her look larger than she really was.

I smile as I walk over to her while she lifts her head up and roars with jaws wide open.

"Asha," I exclaim and raise a hand to her.

The dragonling stops her cries and lowers her head a fraction, turning to me. She bleats gutturally and stretches out her wings, beating them rapidly, much like how she usually greets me. She then rolls her long neck over and under then settles down and inches near me.

She huffs and rests her wings beside her. Her snout comes me as reach out to her.

Daemon watches the pearly white creature submit to her rider. He sees the shine of her blistering white scales and the shape of her head. There was something about the creature that made him think she did not look right, something about her snout and the shape of her body. He was unsure if it had to do the ghastly lack of color her or the rather bird-like demeanor it had with the wing-flapping.

"Kotova," I speak as I caress the face of my dragon, "rytsuragon se dārys se dārilaros." Greet the king and princess.

Kotova pulls her head up and steps a few paces back. She then stretches both her wings, rather effectively blocking a good amount of sunshine and bares all her teeth as she screams at the Targaryens.

Rhaenyra's jaw parts into a small open mouthed smile as she brings her hands to her ears. Daemon steps one pace back and averts his gaze as the gush of hot dragon breath hits his face. He huffs and waves his hands by his nose.

I laugh as Kotova bleats once more for approval as she curls up and turns to me. I laugh and stroke her wiry scales, "olvie sȳz, ñuha jorrāelagon." Very good, my love.

Rhaenyra watches our exchange and pulls away her hands from her head, "her name is Kotova?"

I turn to the princess and smile. I nod "she is my Kotova."

"A quaint name for a dragon," she notes, lightheartedly.

I laugh and raise a hand to her direction, "it is the Astapori word for strong, princess," I turn to Rhaenyra then to Daemon, "I shall introduce you to her, your graces, yes?"

Rhaenyra turns to her king for approval. Daemon nods then motions for her to follow.

The moment the princess nears, Kotova instantly begins to stir with curiosity and heavily sniff the air.

"Asha, Kotova," I mutter as I take the hand of the princess, "ȳdra daor sagon tolī olvie." Hush, Kotova, don't be too much.

Kotova does her best to contain her excitement as I gently lead the girl's hand to the dragon's snout, "bisa iksis Rhaenyra." This is Rhaenyra.

"Rystas, Kotova," she greets hello with a breathy tone.

I catch Rhaenyra's smile as Kotova huffs and moves her head a bit in acknowledgement of the contact. I watch how Kotova turns her head in a telltale manner. I immediately stop her from continuing what I know she was planning to do.

"Daor, Kotova," I speak 'no' sternly.

She huffs in response.

Once I feel the dragonling calm, I release Rhaenyra's hand and allow her to touch as Kotova as much as she'd like. Her hair, strikingly like the tint of my dragon scales, blows back with the wind. She turns to me and smiles, moving towards me, "she is a sweet and kind thing."

"Indeed," I smile and nod, "she is precious to me."

Rhaenyra turns to the side, "uncle, it's your turn now."

Daemon looks as I circle around his niece and reach out to him.

He waits for a few seconds to pass before walking over to me, taking my hand in his. He confidently strides to my dragon and it makes her pull away from Rhaenyra. She then raises her head and tilts it to the side as looks down upon us. The spikes on her hair raise as she breathes in and huffs.

"Kotova," I warn.

Rhaenyra smartly backs away slowly.

I sense no agitation from Daemon, save for how he tightens his grip on me. I turn to him and inhale deeply, "it's because you smell like dragon," I mutter to Daemon as I raise hand, "gīda ilagon, Kotova." Calm down, Kotova.

He mutters without tearing his gaze away from Kotova, "I did not ride my dragon here."

"Didn't you?" I turn to her as Kotova cautiously lowers her head, "you must not have washed properly."

Rhaenyra chuckles from the side.

I continuously hush Kotova until she is comfortable enough to near us.

"Rysta, Kotova," Daemon says hello to the dragon.

I release a soft snort as I turn from the king to the head of the dragon. I bring our hands to her snout and "bisa iksis Daemon, Kotova." This is Daemon, Kotova.

Daemon is shocked by the coolness of the skin. He furrows his brows as Kotova huffs and leans into us.

I pull away from the king and allow him to touch her as much as he wants. I watch him as he scrutinizes the creature before him.

Kotova leans into Daemon's touch and shakes her head. I step away and withhold a smile, doing nothing to hold her back from what I know she's going to do next.

Kotova darts her tongue out and licks Daemon's arm, coating it in thick slober.

I instantly break into a laugh as Daemon curses and pulls back. He turns to me as Rhaenyra joins in with my giggles.

"Ah, so you meant for her to do this," Daemon dryly states, swatting his hand in my direction, making Kotova's saliva splash to my dress. He does not allow his niece to laugh with no repercussions either and baptizes her with dragon spit.

Rhaenyra is hit straight on the cheek, immediately halting her laughter. She growls at her uncle, "Daemon!"

Daemon shrugs, grabbing my skirt, pulling me into him, then wiping his arm there. I grip onto his shoulder as he bends down and dries his dripping arm off on my dress.

I grunt as I lean into him, falling a tad out of balance because of his yanking. I watch as Kotova examines us but makes no attempt to defend me. I nearly scoff at her passivity. She was normally did not take kindly to people touching me. I wonder if it's because she recognizes the dragon in him.

Once he is done wiping the dampness, he straightens himself up and looks down at me, "that was quite amusing."

I shove him away with my hips, "a honor to bemuse you, dear king."

Daemon's shoes dig into the dirt as he keeps himself upright. I move to the other side of Kotova's face, leaving him standing in front of Kotova by himself.

He startles when Kotova huffs as he leans into him.

This time, I hiss in displeasure, "daor, Kotova."

She huffs.

I repeat, "daor."

Kotova pulls back obediently. She tucks her legs in, proceeding to then curl into herself, around me, and rest her head on the ground.

Rhaenyra watches as the dragon's neck curls over to her tail. Kotova pushes me into her body, tucking me under her wing. I grunt as I am covered by the heavy thing, "Kotova!"

She does not respond as I push her wing up and escape the leathery prison.

Upon seeing how I carelessly lean into Kotova and step over her neck to get out of my spot, Daemon furrows his brows and wonders if he would ever to the same with his own dragon. He moves to the side of the glimmering white beast and stops when he sees her face, one eye looking back at him. He only now realized it blue and gold.

He turns to me with furrowed brows as I walk over.

"Fine," the king quips, "tell me, then, how it is you managed to tame this dragon?" He looks off to the side and watches as the creature stares at him, as if unwilling to let him out of his sight.

"The secret is, your grace," I shake my head, "I did not."

Daemon turns to me, an unimpressed expression on his features.

"Kotova, as much as she is dear to me," I raise my brows, "does not belong to me." I look at the dragon as she buries her head into her wing and sighs deeply.

I smile at her catlike action and turn back to Daemon, violet eyes glued on me already. "She is free, king. I do not confine her, I do not stop her from flying far off without me; she is her own keeper.

"Between us, I think, is a bond of mutual respect and affection. I found her when she was no larger than an overgrown lizard and cared for her, thinking she would grow no larger than a small dog." I cross my arms and turn to Kotova.

Rhaenyra walks over to us. I look over to her and, in turn, catch sight the other three men with us, looking out from a far enough distance.

I turn back to Daemon as he says, "surely as the daughter of the Master of Beasts, you would know the difference between a lizard and a dragon."

I ignore his incredulous tone, "Kotova's wings barely resembled what they are now when she was a hatchling, and her skin was translucent," I give him a look, "trust me, king, you may think yourself a dragon expert, but you wouldn't have thought she was a dragon then either."

Daemon does not appreciate the way his title is said.

"I think she was rejected by her clutch, which was why she ended up here in the green lands."

King turns to Kotova, thinking it made sense, considering his own thoughts about her and how she did look like an odd-one-out.

"So, she is amicable," king Daemon utters, "but only borne out of your presence. It does not solve my concern with the forest fires, nor does it change the fact," he turns to me with raised brows, "you are a dragon rider outside of my blood."

I look at Daemon and he clutches his belt and scabbard. A gush of wind blows between us as I asses the man's face. His violet eyes looked almost clear because of the sunlight, and though his expression was blank, I knew better than to mistake it for something like kindness. I turn to Kotova and find myself thinking about how similar they appeared. Even now, the connection between Targaryen and dragon was uncanny.

I speak, "allow me to solve one of your problems then, Daemon."

Rhaenyra pulls her head back at the lack of use of king and looks at her uncle, who narrows his eyes at me.

I whistle then call, "Kotova."

Kotova ignores me.

I suck in a breath and walk over to her, pulling my skirt up, placing my sole on her body, shaking her with my leg, "bē, tala." Up, girl.

Kotova peaks through her wing then huffs, before giving a dramatic protest, throaty and loud.

"Asha," I hush, "rȳbagon," obey.

Kotova stands, and if she could, rolls her eyes as she did so. She stretches her wings out for effect, incidentally pushing both Targaryens in her side away as she did so.

Daemon and Rhaenyra grab each other and move back to the side as Kotova raises her head and flairs her short, stubbly, leathery horns. She gives a shrill squawk then shakes her head.

I call out her name and she rolls her eyes again.

I extend my arms out to the side and crane my neck up at her, commanding, "drakarys."

Daemon and Rhaenyra stiffen with wide eyes. Instinctively, Daemon reaches out for his niece and pushes her behind him as he too steps away, "are you mad?!"

Kotova lowers her head to me and shoves me back with her snout. I am nothing against her strength and nearly topple back. I shake my head and regain my footing as Kotova begins to walk past me slowly, absolutely done with my bullshit.

"Keligon, Kotova," I command 'halt' as I walk in front of her again, "rȳbagon," I mutter 'obey' again once in front of her.

Kotova twists her long neck and hisses.

I recoil when her spit splashes on my cheek. I wipe my face and then rip out a bunch of weeds from the ground and throw it in front of the dragon, "drakarys."

Kotova growls as I point to the weeds.

Daemon watches the dragon huff through her nostrils and shake her wings in annoyance. So, her point is to get herself killed and be done with it?

"Drakarys, Kotova!"

Kotova, after a loud cry that made everyone, including the lord and the two knights, step back at the shrillness of it, finally obeys. A great many flock of birds fly overhead as the dragon breathes onto the tiny strands of grass. She gives out all the air in her lungs, in turn making the weeds shoot off in various directions.

Her exhale is so aggressive, spit splutters out.

Air, spit and more spit, but no fire. No fire at all.

Once Kotova was done, she looks at me and screams.

I recoil at her ear piercing cry and cringe, raising my hands up to her, "krimvo, tala. Emā dohaertan nyke sȳrī." Thank you, girl. You have served me well.

I reach out to her face and she opens her mouth, threatening to nip at me. It was an empty threat I knew, but a threat no less. I pull back and give her a look, "asha," I drop the tone of my voice, "keligon." Hush. Halt.

Kotova shakes her head and wags her slender tail.

"Sȳz!" I wave her off, "Henujagon. Jikagon va." Fine! Leave. Go on.

Kotova gratefully yelps and rather quickly takes off. She makes sure to hover over me, and cause dust and dirt to fly all over my body, as well as my skirt and hair to whip all over, before ultimately ascending, up until she was so high you could barely make her out, especially with how white she was in the sky. She blended well in the clouds and the harsh sun light.

Once she was gone and all of us were reeling with the sand in our eyes and mouths and ears and folds, I turn to Daemon and find him spitting out dirt in between spitting out curses.

I walk over to him and wipe my face, "as you can see, Daemon, Kotova is incapable of breathing fire."

I glance to the face of the lord from the distance, "whatever you and your company know about this Forest Fire is not about my dragon," I turn back to Daemon, "and as for your other concern. Like I said, she is free creature," I shrug, "she barely answered to me, as you bore witness."

Daemon dusts himself off just as Rhaenyra did.

"Of course, you could always wed me-"

The two royals halt.

I raise my brows, "or kill me and my fireless friend."

The king stares at me for a moment. He watches as I brush off my corset and roll my shoulders back. He feels ire prick into his veins, "gaomagon ao mīvindigon nyke, asp?" Do you taunt me, bitch?

I pull my head back and chuckle, "se ānogar hen zaldrīzes dakogon qumblie. Sīr adere naejot zālagon." The blood of the dragon runs thick. So quick to burn.

Daemon struts over to me and leaves little space between us. "Gaomagon daor ȳdragon hen zaldrīzes ānogar naejot nyke," he quips between his teeth. Do not speak of dragon blood to me.

He leans into me, "daoruni gīmī hen drakarys."

"You know nothing of dragon fire?!" I repeat his incredulous words, "ñuha gierion issi se ñuqir hen aōha drakarys, zaldrīzes āzma." My people are the ash of your dragon fire, dragon born.

I shake my head, "Astapor knows more about dragon fire than you ever will."

Daemon chuckles dryly, "you excite me with such pretty notions."

"Then forgive me for putting ideas in your head," I retort, grabbing my skirt, then curtsying dismissively. I then curtsy to Rhaenyra, and look back to her uncle. I stare at him for a moment before walking off.

I hear him scoff and angrily march, catching my arm, "I did not dismiss you, impudent wench."

I turn to him and smile twistedly, "oh, apologies, your grace," I pull my arm away. He does not release me. I huff, "I had already given you solutions to your problems. I did not think it would make you so taken by me so quickly."

"OH HA!" someone calls from afar, making all of us turn to whom called rather carelessly.

The two knights are immediately alerted and unsheathe their weapons as Gael storms over to us.

"Unhand Lady Milidyni this instant," he barks, pointing a finger our way.

"Valzȳrys!" I quip as Daemon releases me and unsheathes his own sword.

Daemon does not hesitate to meet him and surely enough, Gael is quickly cornered at the tip of 3 swords.

"Ao doru-borto qogralbar," I grunt, you stupid fuck.

"If you want to keep your head on your shoulders, you will keep your mouth shut, peasant," Daemon bristles, both hands on his hilt, fully intent to strike.

Before Gael could speak, I bark and point, "shut up, Gael!"

Gael looks at me then Daemon.

Daemon watches as Gael clenches his jaw and raises his hand up in surrender. He scoffs, lips tilting into a smile, "good to know your mutt is obedient to you as well."

Gael turns to me, "skoros gaomas bisa timpa ōghar orvorta jaelagon lēda ao?" What does this white haired cunt want with you?

I roll my eyes at his attempt to speak freely.

Daemon laughs manically and presses closer to him, bringing his blade against Gael's cheek which then rips into his skin, "iderēbagon aōha hembar udra wisely, syt kostis sagon aōha mōrī." Choose your next words wisely, for they may be your last.

"King Daemon!" I call, running towards him, grabbing hold of his arm, "ignore the fool. He's good for nothing."

"Finally something we agree on," retorts the king, although he does not withdraw his weapon and instead shoves me away from him.

"My king," Rhaenyra calls, storming over to him, "please! That's enough."

"Yes," Daemon mutters, "I am king," he words firmly, "and I decide what happens and what does not."

Gael flinches when his ear is poked.

"I say, I might enjoy making your ear into a necklace," Daemon mutters, pressing his blade into the side of his head, making blood drip down his neck.

I curse under my breath.

"But for now, I use you as leverage," he mutters, turning to me, "if you want your dear husband to remain unmutilated, you will make no fuss and obey me. Understood?"

"Understood," I blurt quickly.

Gael lets out a shallow breath when the king pulls away his blade, prompting the knights to do the same.

He then takes my arm and eyes Gael as he drags me off.

"Well done, Hightower," Daemon says, as we pass the bearded man, "though your information is skewed, it seems you shall keep your head after all."

Rhaenyra watches her uncle drag me off then turns to Otto who sighs, "most generous of you, my king."

Gael looks out to the king and heaves, "where are you taking her?!"

"King's Landing," Daemon mutters, looking over his shoulder, "come on then, Rhaenyra."

"Rhaenyra!" Alicent calls the moment she spots her friend, undoubtedly walking this very corridor in order to speak with her.

When the two girls meet, they clutch each other's hands affectionately.

"I am most remorseful for not greeting you the day you arrived. My father was strict about making me finish my lessons on bookkeeping before releasing me."

Rhaenyra makes an amused face of disbelief, "and what exactly where the ledgers that took you three days to finish?"

"The Hightower logs."

The princess laughs, "lessons? My dear, I think you were duped into doing the work meant for Lord Hightower."

The Hightower raises a brow, "you think?"

The two share a laugh.

The princess and the lady immediately link arms and begin to walk off to nowhere in particular.

"So my father has returned with his head," the red haired girl speaks, making Rhaenyra look at her incredulously, "I wouldn't have let Daemon kill him, Alicent. It's why I joined the trip, if it wasn't already obvious."

The girls lean into each other as they walk leisurely.

Alicent releases a breath, "oh yes of course. It was not to see whether or not there was, in fact, a non-Targaryen dragon and a rider in Essos, no?"

Rhaenyra grins and leans into Alicent, "well of course, there's that too."

"I hear it was a woman who tamed the beast, and that she was at the back of the king's horse as you came home."

Rhaenyra presses her lips into a flat line, "a funny thing, Lady Milidyni-- her name. She said she never ridden the back of a horse before, and it both made a lot of sense and no sense at all."

Alicent thinks then shrugs, "perhaps she is accustomed to riding in a carriage."

"Or her dragon," Rhaenyra looks at Alicent's dark eyes with her lighter ones, "you know, her dragon is, perhaps, about as old as Syrax, and a ghastly shade of white."

She nods, "father told me the thing looked like a monster who fled the burn of winter for a taste of spring."

The princess pulls her head back, "Otto Hightower said that? He is quite the poet."

Alicent looks off and shakes her head, "he is not."

Rhaenyra laughs, shaking her blonde hair as she did.

"What does the king plan to do with Lady Milidyni?" Alicent turns to Rhaenyra, "wouldn't it have been easier to kill her to avoid any sort of trouble with the dragon?"

Rhaenyra sighs as she looks at the curve of her friend's cheek and the blush on her lips and cheek, "the day I understand the way my uncle's mind works is the day your father starts liking him."

Alicent holds back her laugh.

"Oh but did you know her name means red beast in Astapori Valyrian?" the princess says excitedly, "Mili is red, and dyni is beast," she smiles, "and the animal of her house is a fox! I think it's rather smart."

Alicent is more fixated over the fact her friend was telling her there was a variant of Valyrian being spoken in Essos.

At this point, there is a vague, far off sound of a gatekeeper announcing the entry of a Lord. It takes a moment for the princess to think of who could possibly be coming to King's Landing at this hour for a visit. Then she remembers.

Instantly, Rhaenyra grips her skirt and yanks Alicent along with her as she runs to the side of the entrance from the floor they were on.

She grins from ear to ear as Alicent hastily keeps up with her, unsure of why they were running and who they were going to see.

They look out the window and the two girls behold a large man with a broad build and dark hair. Rhaenyra gleefully looks down as the Lord with a pointed nose and a thin beard dismounts his equally massive mount.

Alicent looks at the handsome man and then finally notices the emblem on his horse. "Ah, that must be Cregan Stark."

Rhaenyra grins, leaning into her, though her eyes do not leave him "he is quite a looker."

Alicent turns from the man to her princess, watching as her lips curl in delight and her hair blow with the wind, same as hers, "quite."

The two girls turn to each other, "shall we greet him?"

Alicent turn back to the lord, "if it pleases her grace."

Rhaenyra grins and leans against the window, "Lord Stark!"

Everyone from below looks up to the caller, each of them paying dutiful regard to the princess. The Lord Stark himself lifts his eyes upon the two looking out to him, nodding his head when the red haired girl greets him as well.

"My young princess," he bows, "my young lady," he nods, then looks back up at them.

He takes kindly to the eager look upon the Targaryen's face as she asks, "did you bring one of your direwolves, my lord? I would so love to see them."

Cregan grins, lopsided and wolfish in his own right, "I did not, princess. I do not think any of my wolves would appreciate the balminess of your palace, especially at this season," he leans on his leg, "see, I, myself, am already quite fussed by the temperature."

Rhaenyra laughs, "well, I say. I do hope you do not find your stay here too uncomfortable."

He tilts his head, "with two fair maidens greeting me at my arrival? Impossible."

Rhaenyra gives a pleased grin. Alicent smiles softly.

"An honor most high, fair maidens," he bows, "I must now see to the king."

Cregan is directed to take a certain hall in order to where the king would be at the moment. He walks to the end of the corridor as he was told and stops before a door.

He promptly knocks and announces himself.

He listens for a moment, then clears his throat upon hearing the moan that seeps through the cracks.

He presses his lips and moves away from the door, eye twitching at the crashing sound that comes next, along with 'ah yes, more, fuck, yes-'

He clenches his jaw and walks down the corridor, deciding to wait there, leaning by the window.

Cregan pulls at his collar, feeling his sweat clump in the corners of his flesh. He wonders if it would be too improper to remove his coat. He decides it won't and feels better after a layer of clothing was now off his body.

His attention is commanded by the beastly cry from across the grounds. He looks out to the far off area, narrowing his eyes at the vague sight of what he could tell was a dragon. Even at this distance, it was a mighty sight to see. He thinks about what it would feel to see the thing face to face.

He wonders who the red creature's master was. Perhaps the king's? Or was it the princess's?

He then thinks of the rumors of a wayward dragon flying under the ward of a rider not of royal blood. Perhaps this was the very dragon, now captured and under the keep of the crown.

He wonders if one of the people surrounding the behemoth was the rogue rider, now also in the clutch of the king.

"Lord Stark?"

Cregan turns and sees a woman with tan skin, glistening with sweat, and brown hair, wild and unkempt, cascading down past her shoulders. It appears as though she was tying her laces from behind her, "is that you?"

"Yes. I am Lord Stark."

She smiles as she pulls on her laces, "the king says you may enter now."

Cregan nods, "thank you."

He watches as the woman walks off as she tightens her corset from behind.

He blinks and finds himself asking as she makes a strained sound, "do you require assistance?"

The woman looks at him from over her shoulder, lips curling into a smile, "that depends. Will you be undressing me as well, sire?"

Cregan licks his lips and thinks, "No. I don't think I will."

"Then best not keep the king waiting, milord," she says, turning away, walking off.

Cregan thus enters the room, finding the king sat at the end of a messy bed. Tables and chairs were disarray, things that should not be on the floor were, and the king, himself, was not with a shirt.

Though, in truth, he probably should not be looking at the lilac eyed man, and his scars, and his messy hair, both blown out and sticking to the sides of his face, still he does and thinks enviously about how he could freely let himself cool down at present.

He grips the coat he hung in his arm, "King Daemon."

"Wolf man," Daemon says as he drinks from a cup, "how do you do?"

Cregan knows he could not care less about how he does but he answered curtly nevertheless, "I am well, your grace."

Daemon downs his drink and then stands. He walks over to the table, out of place where it was, and pours himself another cup, "thirsty?"

"No, thank you."

Daemon empties the ewer in his cup then turns to Cregan, "Alina," he says andwalks off, grabbing his garb that was thrown on the bedside table, "a pretty little distraction, the whore, very good with her mouth," he puts on his top, "though greedy with coin," he slips one sleeve on, "but I doubt you'll have problems with that."

Cregan watches as the king clothes himself. A moment passes.

"I doubt you requested me to come down from the North to discuss your favorite whore, your majesty," the lord says.

The king chuckles, raising a brow, "just a whore," he adjusts his collar, "they're all the same after you've emptied your balls."

Cregan chuckles.

The king walks over to his drink and takes it, "though I will say we are to discuss something of a whore."

Daemon walks past Cregan. The man follows suit.

They walk down the hall silently while the king drinks and ignores everyone that greets him.

They then arrive to a room and Daemon opens the door to it, pulling his cup away, swallowing heavily. He walks in deeper and Cregan follows suit.

He is then certain the room is empty and chucks his cup to the side and screams, "SERVANT!"

Cregan watches the king as he storms to the door, just as a servant girl comes running over. Daemon seethes, "where is the Astapori bitch that I put here?"

"My king- I- I-"

"You mean you lost her?!" he grabs her face, "you let the cunt escape?"

The servant cannot respond.

Daemon shoves her away.

Caraxes screeches out, tongue flicking as he did, and my heart races at the sound. I clutch my chest as the dragon keeper orders him to heel.

The king's mount reluctantly follows, jowls dripping with slobber as he is continued to be inspected and groomed. I think about Kotova everytime I bask in the glory of the Blood Wyrm, suddenly realizing my dragonling was immensely kinder, more patient, and warmer than what I thought she was. Never have I seen such a bratty, dramatic, and spoiled creature such as Caraxes. Not only was he a picky eater, ten times that of Kotova, but he was a whiny thing, and threw tantrums at every moment he got.

There were times when I spectated that I even called out to him myself, unable to contain the command from my lips as he terrorized the keepers.

Of course, Caraxes could not care less about me, but there was a moment, I swear that he did heed to my call.

I clutch the paper in my hand and hurriedly sketch Caraxes' profile as he is lead on by the dragon keeper to one side of the pit.

Say what you will about him though, he, regardless, was a kingly steed. His blood red scales were vibrant and so reflective of the house Targaryen that even if its rider was not the king, you'd think it was. Though I found penchant to be excessive, it echoed the fact that he belonged to Daemon Targaryen.

I rip my paper into my chest and gasp when I hear a voice mutter right into my ear.

"You are overly comfortable with your stay here," the king quips. He then rips out the object in my clutch, making the charred pieces of wood I was using to draw with drop to the floor.

"Your grace, please-"

"I warned you not to leave your room again, did I not?" he says as he eyes me.

Caraxes makes a huffing noises upon recognizing his rider.

Daemon inspects my sketches as I make futile attempts to snatch them back. He chuckles, "very good."

I heave as he turns to me with a grin, then to his dragon, "Caraxes," he calls loudly, "māzigon valītsos!" Come boy!

Caraxes immediately pulls away from the dragon keeper, who nearly shoots off as he could not release his rein on the dragon quick enough, and comes to his master.

I freeze as Caraxes nears, both in great awe and fear of the creature.

"By the gods," a voice calls from behind, making me turn over my shoulder, finding a man with dark hair and wide eyes, stepping back in fear.

Daemon throws the paper off to the side and walks back, haphazardly pushing me along with him as he did so. He blurts, "drakarys,"

I yelp and jolt back, shielding my face with my arms when fire the shoots out of the jaws of the mighty creature.

I peak past the shoulder of the king, thinking Caraxes was overly dramatic for exhaling that much fire for a few measly pages of paper. It goes without saying, there is absolutely no remnants of my sketch at all.

I release a sigh as Caraxes ceases his fire and looks at his master who sings him quick praise.

"Bisa iksis skoros iā real zaldrīzes jurnegon hae," Daemon says as he turns to me with a soft but utterly pleased smile.

I scoff at his words. This is what a real dragon looks like.

"Was the slobber stain on your tunic not enough?" I retort, furrowing my brows, "Kotova is a dragon no less real than Caraxes."

Daemon takes his turn to scoff, but he does not get to retort for Caraxes, seemingly recognizing his name, moves close to us, huffing as he did.

"Keligon," stop, we both command with a hand raise, making Caraxes cease his pursuit and whine as he pulled his head back.

Daemon snaps at me, "I do not take kindly to you commanding my ride."

"I am merely trying to not be devoured by him," I snip back.

"Then maybe you shouldn't keep sneaking out of your room to draw beasts, fox cunt!"

"At least my pastimes are not uncouth like yours, dragon spit."

Daemon laughs, "dragon spit?" He looks at me like he was predator surveying his prey, "that's somehow disappointingly unoriginal of you."

"Your grace," the dark haired man interjects, seemingly disinclined for a brawl to spring up between us.

Daemon grinds his teeth the turns to him, "yes, wolf man," he says, "I've not forgotten you." He then grabs my arm and shoves me toward him, "meet the Astapori bitch-"

I topple over into large man because of the king's excessive use of force.

"-your bride."

The two of us turn to the white haired dimwit as he laughs and claps his hands, "congratulations, Stark."

The man, presumably Stark, helps me to stand upright, though his eyes are locked on his monarch, "your majesty?"

He giggles under his breath, not unlike a child that was found in the middle of a chaotic act meant to amuse him, "I do think it a happy pair, a wolf and a fox."

I brush myself off roughly and Stark stares blankly.

"Actually," Daemon shakes his head, "I could not care less not if you do not marry the wench. You may keep her as a plaything, or a slave," he waves his hands, "just keep her."

"I do not understand, your grace," he speaks, "you've summoned me to tell me-"

"To command you," Daemon raises a finger, "to keep this thing under your paw," he turns to me, "lest she thinks of doing something with her mount."

"Her mount?" he knits his dark brows.

"Yes," Daemon turns to him. He watches the man scrunch his nose in confusion. He makes a face, "oh you slow, slobbering pup. This is the dragon rider from Essos-"

Stark turns to me.

"-the scale soother herself," the king chuckles dryly, turning from me back to him, "why even now you witnessed how she tried to command my own mount, Caraxes, as though she had the blood of a Targaryen."

I glare at him, "what insult to compare your blood and mine."

The king gives one loud, exaggerated laugh, "agreed."

Stark blinks as Daemon slaps his arm and walks off, "I cannot keep her here, as you can tell. She grows more confident around my dragon by the day. Though I do not doubt his loyalty to me, I much more do not trust the mind of a plotting woman."

Caraxes makes a sound as Daemon nears him, "I trust you will invite me to your wedding feast, if you ever find her useful enough to marry," he gives a look to Stark, "and do inform me if she poses to be too difficult."

I look at the dark haired man as he looks at the floor.

In truth, I was shocked by the news as well, but then again, I was rather expecting to be kept in a prison cell for the rest of my days, and so this was a rather mellow note to conclude with. It sure beats being dragon food. I do wonder why he did not think of making me into a snack for his dragon.

I take in the man's pressed lips and large frame. I then wonder if this Stark fellow is much more unsavory than his Targaryen counterpart.

I decide not let myself believe this and to start with no ill feelings, "Lady Milidyni," I curtsy, as I tell him my first name.

He turns to me with knit brows, "you are a lady?"

I am partially confused and offended by his shock but I play it off. "We do have nobility in Essos, sire," I look at him then off to the king that was now cooing to his dragon. I scoff, "though I'm sure your king would make us all out to be barbarians with no wits and no governance."

The man finds himself letting out an unexpected laugh. I turn back to him as he chuckles. I watch as his lips curl upward. He is rather handsome like this.

"Cregan." He nods to me in regard, "Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell."

"My father is Lord of Woodway. He also the Master of Beasts."

Cregan slowly nods his head at the information.

I chuckle, recognizing his confusion, "he studies animals and catalogues them accordingly. I think he would be something like a maester here."

"Ahhh," he nods more surely, "I see. Is that were you get your love for animals and why you risked your life for a glimpse of this terror?"

I chuckle under my breath, "yes. I do think I get my love for animals from my father, but he says I get my insanity from my mother."

He chuckles again, covering his mouth as he did, "your mother reminds me of my own."

"Is she also dead?"

He lifts his head to me with a surprised look, "... aye."

"Then they indeed they are the same. May the gods rest both their souls."

I turn to Caraxes as Daemon dotes on him. At the very least I can respect they way he treats his magnificent ride, "he is not so much a terror, I think."

"The king?"

I scowl and shake my head, "Caraxes."

He lets out a breath as he surveys the said creature, "I will take your word for it."

I turn back to the man and offer a smile, "I would say it is good to meet you, but it really isn't and I would much have rather not meeting you at all."

Cregan chuckles again, though this time, it is much louder.

I purse my lips and give him a look.

Daemon, who was stroking Caraxes by the cheek turns upon hearing the sound. He makes a face at the sight of laughter across him.

"Are all the ladies in Essos as honest as you, my lady?"

I snort and cross my arms as I turn to him, "no. Only me."

Cregan laughs. I chuckle under my breath, decidedly thinking he was far too easy to amuse.

He catches his breath and he turns to me to offer out his arm. I hesitate momentarily, in disbelief of his actions. I take his arm nonetheless, and he then leads me off.

He speaks my name softly, as if measuring the way it rolled off his tongue.

I says his name in return, though with less care and more inquiry.

"You are a scale soother?"

I roll my eyes, "your king mocks me with the title."

"Ah," Cregan nods, "that does seem to be a rather unbelievable skill to be had outside the royal lineage."

I let out a half-amused sound.

"Is it correct of me to assume that your dragon is being held here in the dragon pit?"

I watch as he raises a brow. I shake my head, "Kotova is not held anywhere. Her company is her own to keep."

He knit his brows, "I do not follow."

"Kotova," I explain, "the dragon I have bonded with, is not a dragon that I keep the way the Targaryens do. I do not ask of her to do anything for me, save, perhaps, to keep me company and to scare off some men, in exchange for venison or rabbit."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "I am in disbelief."

"Fortunately, I do not mind if you cannot believe me."

"No, I believe you," he says, "I merely think it is a tale you would tell a child," looking off as he pushed his chest, "a beautiful maiden, friends with a dragon."

"Asha," I snort, "I see you are no less insolent than your king."

Cregan holds back a laugh, "it will do you well not to speak of the king all together if you do not have anything well to say, vixen."

Well, he's not wrong.

"I wonder, then, why your dragon has not come to you here to save you from your captor?"

I shake my head, "Kotova sometimes leaves for months at a time. She may not have noticed my absence at all. I doubt she would even look for me, in all honesty."

"Well, how long have you been here?"

"A good four days, including this one."

Cregan nods, "then let us not wait for a fifth then and depart for the North after a meal."

I look at him as he turns to me, "I am loathe to stay in such weather for too long."

I raise a brow, "is the north very cold then?"

His eyes glisten, "worry not, I will not allow you to perish in the cold."

I am inclined to believe he means to protect me, that he means not to harm me, and those words of his were proof of it. But I do not allow myself to be deluded by his pretty smile. He is a man, and men rarely know how to do anything but harm.

Still, I smile back at him and nod, "of course, Lord Stark."

"Cregan," he corrects, "I wish you to call my name, as I wish to call yours."

I nod once more, "Cregan."

#daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfic #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #cregan fanfic #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark fluff #hotd fanfic

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beansnsoup · 2 years ago

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I have an idea: Luigi and Mario are talking about the reader and during the conversation Luigi only compliments the reader so Mario asks him if he has any feelings for the reader and that's when Luigi realizes his feelings for us :)

Oh. My. Lanta.

Adore this

☆

"...do you like them?"

Summary: Luigi and Mario are having their usual breakfast together, making small talk, and then the conversation turn to you, and things are discovered.

Relationship: Platonic going on romantic.

Warnings: Fluffy fluff fluff, gn reader, lmk if there is anything else

Luigi set the plates down on the table, causing Mario to drool. Every morning, Luigi will make them both breakfast, and its always amazing.

They start to dig in but fill some of the silence with conversation, "Did you sleep well last night?" Luigi asked, Mario nodded still devouring his breakfast.

Mario finished it up and brought his plate to the sink, Luigi joining soon after.

"So what do you think your plans are today?" Luigi tried starting up another conversation.

"I don't know, I think Y/N wanted to meet up and talk about something." He replied.

Luigis head perked up at the sound of your name, "Really?"

Mario nodded. He sat down on the couch to put on his shoes.

"What do you think they want?" Luigi kept wanting to hear more, but he didn't know why he was so eager.

"I don't know, they weren't very specific."

"They're so cool," Luigi let slip out, "Pretty too, their style is like out of this world."

Luigi and Mario went silent for a minute, Luigis face going red. Mario looked up at him, "Luigi, do you like them?"

"Of course I do!"

Mario shook his head, "No, Luigi, do you like like them?" He said dumbing it down.

"Oh," Luigi started, he thought for a moment, if he was being honest everytime he saw you he got butterflies, and he was always the most interested out of the group when you spoke.

"I think," He froze again, not knowing what to say. Everything felt so confusing.

Mario was waiting for the silence to break. It was funny but also sad watching his brother be so confused about his feelings.

"I think I do like them."

Mario smiled, getting up to pat Luigi on his shoulder.

"I'll be on my way. Call me if you need anything," He said, giving Luigi a wink before heading out the door.

That left Luigi only one thing to think about,

What was he going to do now?

#luigi #super luigi #luigi super mario #luigi nintendo #luigi x reader #super mario bros #super mario movie

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nurseysbeanie · 1 year ago

Text

Madison & More Bingo 🏖🏕🏝

Here are some of my fave (so far) fics and art from the @madisonandmore summer prompt challenge!

Well, the start of September makes it feel like summer is fading. But don't worry, fearless reader! These summery fanfics will make you feel the sun on your face, the sand under your feet, and the scent of fresh-cut grass on the breeze!

Unnameable Truth (M) @thefiveboxingwizards | vacation, less than 5000 words, one-shot

I liked that this was a less sunny/happy/vacation-y story about repression and self-discovery. The summer's not happy and carefree for everyone. But there is hope at the end of this one.

Wasteland Baby (M) @checkdeezpucks | AU, one-shot

This surprised me! Despite the premise sounding a bit incongruous with Check Please, this was a great read. Mad Max Tater/Parse was a longshot for me but you proved me wrong, op. Would definitely not be mad if we got another chapter or two of this 👀

Hot-lanta (G) @justlookfrightened | Zimbits, vacation, one-shot

I keep thinking about this one, and Bitty/Jack's meet-cute and Bitty rollerblading. And quiches. And Tater being wingman!

suddenly this summer it's clear (T) @dessertwaffles | favourite ship, a work that made me laugh, one-shot

I actually snorted out loud while reading this standing out on the sidewalk in a crowd of people while waiting for the streetcar. I have no shame. It's funny and cute, read it!

like an ice cream cone (T) @wrathofthestag | SHITTY KNIGHT!!, food or baking, one-shot

Shitty's backstory is important to me (!!!) and this was great. Discussion question: Is the origin of Shitty's porn-stache tied to the memory of a moustachioed ice cream vendor he idolizes from his youth? You tell me. It was hard to see tiny Shitty going through family problems but his au pair seems like the coolest!

amphibious creatures (T) HowOldAreWe | fave ship, mermaids, frogs 🐸 , multi-chapter

I don't generally go for mermaid AUs but this was juuuust lovely! The frogs are wonderful here, and I really liked the setup and follow-through. And I'm not going to say any more than that Chowder makes a great appearance here :)

Making My Head Spin (E) @justlookfrightened | summer camp, zimbits, multi-chapter

Turns out I like fics where Bitty makes a go of it for the NHL! Loved seeing Jack and Bitty letting down their guard and risking being hurt in this one. Super sweet and a little spicy at the end :) Nothing better than that.

Heard The Mermaids Singing (M) @checkdeezpucks | rarepair, mermaids, one-shot

This was another work that wasn't sun-drenched and happy. I loved to see the gritty, almost gothic setting; loved to see some CP femmeslash. Loved to see the teeth and the texture here. Short and... piquant.

The Way Way North (T) by @mcbangle | zimbits, SHITTY KNIGHT!!, vacation, the beach, work that made me smile, frogs, multi-chapter

I keep thinking about this one. Listen, Shitty Knight is... essential. He is the GLUE that holds together CP Year One for me, okay? I know that this fic is primarily about Bitty and his parents' relationship, and his crush on Jack, and that is all done deftly and wonderfully. But Shitty is the standout for me here. (Also I now need to see the movie this is based on.)

Eelgrass (T) by @perhapsajacket | fave ship, the beach, vacation, multi-chapter (pending)

Just a nice AU where Dex is ho-humming through his vacation until he chances upon the cute local bookshop owner (enter Nursey) who has fallen into a tidepool and needs a hand. What could be more adorable than that? I liked seeing some of Dex's family and backstory here. And I would live to see more 👀

Cowabunga (G) @zimbits-my-love | art, surfing, the beach

This is super cute art and I loved the colour scheme. I can so imagine Bitty and Jack surfing together on vacation!

This was a fun summer challenge, thanks to all the organizers! I will be updating my own work, Summer Gothic, soon with a new chapter. (Sorry, I write slow. 🐌)

#madison&more #omgcheckplease #omgcp #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic rec #recc

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spottys-rathole · 27 days ago

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Je me suis rendu compte que ma boussole morale était cassée en regardant le quart de finale de Koh Lanta avec ma mère, parce que à chaque fois qu'un.e concurrent.e se retrouvait face à face avec un.e autre candidat.e je commentais à haute voix sur le fait que tout ce que Machinchouette avait à faire pour se qualifier c'était de faire une crasse à Truc-Bidule pour saboter son jeu.

Et à chaque fois ma mère me lançait un regard en coin d'yeux, et à chaque fois les candidat.es mettaient tout de suite de côté l'idée de pas jouer réglo parce que "c'est pas moi ça", "je le fais pour ma famille", "c'est le jeu, tant pis si je perds à cause de ça, au moins je me serais battu"

5 ans d'études dans le privé ça te change ta mentalité (j'en suis pas fière)

#its a doggy dog world 😔#soit tu manges soit tu te fais manger (et blacklister du reste de tes collègues)#ça ou j'ai trop regardé Défis Extrêmes azy

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chaoticallycosmic · 2 years ago

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#addy: face #lanta: face #I swear she’s trying to kill me #I love this look on her

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dragonnwriter · 10 months ago

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Inviolable Bindings

Aemondxfem!OC and Aegonxfem!OC

All Chapters Here!

***NSFW Chapter!!!*** 18+ No Minors!

Chapter 38

Stepping into the Dragonpit, Viserra looked around admiring the century old stonework. The air was hot and thick and smelled of smoke. Wasting no time, Aemond approached one of the dragonkeepers who promptly descended down the steps leading into the dragon dens.

In only a few moments, the sounds of the large dragon shifting and climbing up to them echoed through the space. As Vhagar came into view, Viserra could not help but think she looked rather irritated at being disturbed. She scowled at the long spears that poked at her sides to guide her forward. Viserra scowled, noting that this was another reason she did not care to house her own dragon there.

Vhagar let out a low growl as soon as Aemond walked up to greet her, bowing her large head to make contact with him. “Rytsas ñuha riña. Tubī ao sōvegon lēda lanta,” he spoke quietly, waiting to see if the dragon protested Viserra’s presence. Hello my girl. Today you will fly with two.

Viserra moved closer, undeterred and curious. Her hand reached out slowly to touch the dragon’s snout. Despite her intimidating size and gruffness, she showed the beast respect and no sign of fear. Watching her with excitement, a smile tugged on Aemond’s lips. He had been unsure if a dragon would be friendly to another so close, but so far she showed no signs of rejection.

“Her size is even more impressive when standing right beneath her,” Viserra remarked in awe. “Look at her scales, she is scarred and so rough from up close.” As she ran her hand along the rough scales, she could only imagine the stories that the dragon would tell, if only she could speak.

“I do believe she likes you,” Aemond’s voice broke through her thoughts. “I was unsure if this would go over well, if a dragon would accept another rider in its presence.”

Viserra nodded in agreement as the memories of meeting Sunfyre within these very walls flooded her mind. Her heart sank for a brief moment, thinking of the injured dragon that was still somewhere out there and separated from his equally injured rider. The bonds that each of them carried with their mount ran deep through their blood and she realized there had to be so much more to these magnificent beasts than they really knew.

Satisfied with how things had begun, Viserra realized it was now time for the real test. Aemond walked over to the ropes dangling from Vhagar’s back, summoning her to join him. He ascended the ropes first and had situated himself in the saddle before Viserra even began her climb. Taking her time to not alarm the dragon, she carefully made her way up to Aemond and swung her leg over the saddle to settle in front of him.

“You could have at least had me dress for this,” she whined, fussing over the placement of her skirts as she sat. Aemond did not reply but let out a small chuckle. She felt the leather straps cross her thighs and Aemond’s long fingers securing her to the seat.

The massive muscles on Vhagar’s back twitched and shifted as she adjusted to feeling the two riders in the saddle. And as Aemond took hold of the reins, she readied herself to take off. Each step that the dragon took sent vibrations through her body due to her sheer mass and as she picked up her pace in anticipation of taking off, Viserra couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline rush through her veins.

This experience was different from riding Rhyn in every aspect. She almost forgot that Aemond remained steady behind her, his arms passing under hers and pressed to her sides. The wind rushed past them as they climbed into the clouds and Viserra closed her eyes as her hair whipped around her face.

Once in the sky, Vhagar’s size did not seem to matter. The beating of her wings and ability to coast through the air were in stark contrast to how it felt when they were moving on the ground.

“What do you think?” Aemond asked, his voice carrying over the wind.

Viserra could not help but laugh, the adrenaline still rushing through her. “This is absolutely amazing,” she replied. “I cannot believe you claimed this dragon as a mere child.”

Aemond transferred the reins from two hands to one, wrapping his now free arm around her waist and closing in by her ear. “You do not know what it is like to be the only Targaryen without a dragon,” he spoke quietly. “The pain and isolation almost brought me to madness, but once I laid my eyes on this beast I knew she was meant to be mine.”

She closed her eyes and leaned back into him, unsure of what to say but wanting him to know she felt sadness for the little boy who Aemond once was. He was right, she did not know that pain and was ever grateful to have no memories without her own dragon.

As they soared higher into the quiet sky above the clouds, Viserra felt the familiar freedom that came with the privilege to access such a space. With the sun warming her face and the wind still carrying a biting chill, she raised her hands up and out, relishing in the weightlessness that flying gave them.

She felt Aemond shift a bit and watched as he tied off the reins to the saddle horn. Instinctually, she lowered her hands, but he stopped her, his touch firm as he guided her arms back out.

“Let go,” he murmured, his hands tracing the length of her arms as he encouraged her.

And Viserra did just that. She closed her eyes and let her body relax, feeling the wind biting at her skin and pushing through the fabric of her dress. Warm hands worked their way over her thighs and she savored the moment until she felt the leather straps lose their tension on her legs.

Eyes shooting open, she almost brought her arms back down, but again, Aemond caught them and guided them up with gentle insistence. His hands then moved to her hips, gripping them firmly while attempting to lift her from the seat. She turned her head, brow furrowed just for him to respond with a smirk.

“Do you not trust me?” He asked, his voice steady.

Viserra hesitated before pushing herself to embrace the moment. Looking straight ahead again and taking in a deep breath against the wind, she nodded. “I do.”

Without resistance this time, she let him help her to stand. The wind whipped around as she balanced on top of the massive creature. Aemond’s arms wrapped around her legs to keep her skirts in place and to steady her on her feet.

Although she had often stood in her own dragon’s saddle, standing on top of a beast that she was not bonded to, trusting entirely in the man behind her, was exhilarating beyond words. She was not sure if it was the wind or the thrill, but it felt difficult to catch her breath there. Despite everything happening below them in their lives on the ground, up in the skies she felt more alive than ever.

Vhagar suddenly shifted in the air and Viserra instinctively reached down, grasping at Aemond for support. With a steady hand, he helped her back into the saddle, his firm grasp letting her know he would not let her fall.

As she settled back down, Aemond kept one arm securely around her waist while taking the reins into his hand. She could not have been more grateful for the timing as Vhagar abruptly pulled to the side and she felt herself slide on the leather seat.

A familiar black shadow shot up through the clouds with a loud screech that pierced the air. Viserra immediately recognized her own mount as he spun closely around the larger beast. How had she not sensed him approaching sooner?

“Rhyn!” She exclaimed watching as he continued his erratic movements around Vhagar. He seemed puzzled by the sight of his rider perched atop another dragon.

Viserra could feel her heart begin to beat in her chest again as she watched the dragons’ interaction unfold. The tightening of Aemond’s arm around her waist told her he most likely felt the tension too. She worried that the Vhagar would misinterpret Rhyn’s behavior as aggression and things could quickly escalate into a dangerous confrontation.

“Lykirī, Vhagar!” Aemond yelled to his dragon. “Emā zȳhon kipagīros ziry daor ōdrikagon.” Be calm, Vhagar! You have his rider, he means no harm.

“Sȳz riña, gīda.” Viserra chimed in, patting the scales on the dragon’s back. Good girl, steady.

Aemond was tense, she could feel it in the way he had her by the waist. Part of her wondered if the events in Storm’s End had begun in a manner such as this but she would not be so foolish to ask him in that moment.

“Perhaps we should land,” Viserra suggested, watching closely as the dragons kept steady flight without further bickering.

“Yes,” he agreed, letting her go and taking the reins in both of his hands.

Almost immediately, he began to guide Vhagar downwards while Rhyn followed closely behind. Once they had passed down through the clouds, Viserra realized they could no longer see the city behind them. They touched down on a grass covered cliff, Vhagar making contact with the ground with a thud that almost threw her from the saddle.

Rhyn touched down next to the older dragon, now chirping and still flapping his wings with uncertainty. While Vhagar did not seem to want to move the entirety of her body, she swung her head in his direction and let out a deep growl.

Without hesitation, she pushed herself away from Aemond to climb down the dragon’s back. Only using the ropes halfway, she let go and slid down the rest of the way. As she approached her dragon, he settled almost immediately. Vhagar also seemed much less interested in what was going on, now settling herself in the grass and letting her rider down from the saddle.

“Skoros iksin bona nūmāzma?” Viserra asked of her dragon, taking his snout into her arms. What was that about?

Rhyn forcefully exhaled from his snout, seemingly protesting her interacting with Vhagar. He pulled himself from her and raised his head up and over her own. As Viserra turned, she realized that Aemond was approaching them both. Rhyn let out another snort and she reached up to swat at him for it.

This was the first time she had seen a dragon exhibit something akin to jealousy. Aemond stopped a few feet from them both, giving him the respect and space he needed at the moment. Rhyn let out a soft rumble in response before pulling back from Viserra and moving the opposite direction.

“I have not ever seen him act like that,” Viserra remarked, gesturing towards her mount.

Aemond let out a short laugh as he joined at her side. They both watched as he settled down a safe distance from Vhagar. “He is protective of you.”

Viserra looked up to Aemond. “I think he is jealous,” she smiled as he looked between them, eyebrows raised.

The quiet isolation there on the cliffside brought both of them a small moment of peace from the happenings around them. But as the conversation died down and the sun continued its way across the sky, Aemond suggested their return to the Keep.

Viserra did not need to think twice about riding her own mount back to the Dragonpit. She did not want to stir up any further conflict between the dragons. Strapping herself to the saddle, she looked over at Aemond who was doing the same. They met each other's gaze for a brief moment before commanding both beasts into the sky.

The journey back to the Dragonpit did not take long, both flying with purpose rather than enjoying the flight itself. The wind and steady rhythm of Rhyn’s wings was comforting to Viserra, realizing just how different it had been to ride on Vhagar’s back.

As they made their way to the front of the large structure, the dragons did not seem bothered by the fact that they needed to land close to one another. Viserra dismounted Rhyn, offering him a solid pat to his scales before he took back off into the skies again. She watched as Aemond climbed down the saddle ropes and the Dragonkeepers that wasted no time in herding Vhagar back into the pit.

The time it took to arrive back through the castle gates seemed longer than their initial departure. The last few hours suddenly seemed like a blur once they entered the castle yard that was bustling with people. Viserra willingly took Aemond’s hand while descending the wheelhouse steps, raising her eyes only to realize they were in the ever irritating presence of Criston Cole.

She knew before the man had even opened his mouth that he would want to speak with Aemond alone. The annoyance that flickered in her from being sidelined twice in the last week was only tempered by a look that Aemond shot her once he sensed her agitation. She hoped that she would be privy to the information sometime this afternoon, but for now, she would clean herself up for whatever else was in store that day.

Aemond’s mind had been on a similar track, calling for a bath to be drawn for her and sending for food and wine. Looking down to her dirtied dress, she realized she should have more appreciation for whoever had made her own riding leathers. The delicate fabric of a gown was no match for flying atop a dragon.

Viserra did not hurry to her chambers, instead taking her time walking through the Keep. Once she reached her rooms, she was pleased to see that her chambermaids were busily pouring the hot water into the metal tub. The steam that filled the tiny room and the scent of the oils that had been poured into the water brought the promise of relaxation.

She sat on the edge of her bed, not speaking a word to the girls as they worked quickly. Once readied, Elia had stayed and offered a hand at disrobing her from the mess she was in. Though she did not need it, Viserra accepted the girl’s help, letting her peel off the layers of the soiled gown and smallclothes underneath. Dismissing Elia with a nod and smile, she thought that today’s bath would be best taken in solitude.

Slipping into the hot water, Viserra closed her eyes and let the heat seep into her muscles. She took her time washing her body and untangling her hair with the soap, realizing that the bath had been much needed. The tension that had built up from the last few days seemed to ease as she slowly submerged herself entirely. Beneath the surface of the water was a sacred place, the only things heard there were the quiet echoes of the water as the movements of her body sloshed the liquid around.

Breaking back through the surface with a gasp for air and wiping the water from her face, Viserra opened her eyes to a familiar tall figure. The way he leaned his shoulder on the archway and the smirk that pulled on his lips told her that he had been there for more than a brief moment.

“The amount of time you spend with your head under water always seems to surprise me,” Aemond confessed, coming away from the archway and walking to the tub. He crouched down next to her as she met him with her arms resting on the edge.

“It is something I have done since I was a child,” she explained, looking up to meet his eye. They both seemed to be studying each other's expressions in anticipation of something. Aemond rose from his crouched position, turning for a moment and beginning to work at the buckles on his doublet. Without taking her eyes off of him, Viserra watched as he carefully undressed, folding his clothes neatly to be set aside. She let her gaze study each and every detail of his pale body as he brought himself back over to her.

“You did not ask if I was willing to share my bath with you,” she quipped, calling him out on the audacity of his actions.

Aemond froze in place, his eyebrow slowly raising with her words. “Do you not wish for me to join you?” He asked, though the level of sincerity in his tone could have been debated.

Viserra did not answer his question but as she let her eyes trail down his body again, he did not hesitate in continuing to the tub. Stepping into the water behind her, he slowly brought himself down into the heat. She moved to accommodate him as his legs rested on each side of her. With a hum, she settled her back against his chest, placing her arms on top of his and closing her eyes.

Aemond’s heart could be felt beating in his chest, something that brought a smile to Viserra’s face. This softer part of him was a side that few, if anyone, ever saw. His arms reached around her waist, pulling her body even more flush with his as if he knew what she was thinking.

It did not take long for his hand to find its way down between her legs, fingers gently playing where he knew she would enjoy it most. Viserra did not open her eyes but instead let herself relax into his touch. The combination of the hot water around them and being held against his body made the sensations heightened.

She felt her breathing pick up as the tight ball in her abdomen began to build. By the way he worked his fingers, it was clear he was just as familiar with her in the most intimate way. She felt herself feeling thankful for his attention to detail, knowing there were no such luxuries in the casual encounters she had experienced in the past.

As Viserra let herself roll into an orgasm, she felt Aemond’s arm pull her in even more. The only sounds in the room were of the water sloshing in the tub and her quiet, but quickened breathing. After a moment, she sat upright, turning around to see his face.

“You are a fool if you think you can distract me from asking what information your Hand had that was so urgent.”

Aemond looked at her while the edges of his lips teased into a smirk. “I was not attempting to distract you,” he countered. “It was a debt repaid from the earlier ride to the Dragonpit.”

“Hm,” she hummed, bringing her wet fingers up to trace his sharp jawline. “What did Cole have to say?”

“My uncle has set out to find bastards born of Targaryen blood in an attempt to man the unclaimed dragons on the island,” he explained, his tone now much more serious. “The word is that anyone who can successfully claim a dragon will be rewarded with wealth, land and even knighthood.”

Viserra furrowed her brows. She truthfully had not thought about the accessibility the Blacks had to the dragons there on Dragonstone. There had to be at least four, mayhaps five unclaimed beasts that were rumored to live in the Dragonmont.

“We will be grossly outnumbered if they find riders for them all,” she spoke, relaying her concern. “That cannot happen.”

“I have considered summoning my youngest brother to return to King’s Landing with his dragon,” he explained. “I had not realized how grown the boy was, but within the last moon he became the sole reason Lord Ormund and his army were not overtaken by my half-sister’s forces.”

“Daeron?” Viserra asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “He was even knighted when they returned to Old Town.”

Viserra had not thought much about the youngest Targaryen brother, only knowing that he was squiring for the Hightower Lord from some of their discussions in the small council chambers. Being bonded with a dragon was simply not enough but learning that they had another rider who was growing his experience in battle brought her a little more relief.

Aemond’s fingers played with the wet strands of hair trailing down her back and she looked to him with concern in her eyes. The realization that the Blacks were actively trying to recruit more dragonriders was something they could not ignore.

“We must eliminate my uncle.” Aemond’s determined voice left no room for discussion. The words that left his mouth were dripping with disdain and he looked to Viserra as if he were seeking her agreement.

“You are skilled with the sword and equipped with the largest living dragon,” she encouraged. “I do not think he will be able to face the both of us if we can confront him together. No doubt the longer he sits in Harrenhal that more and more of the Riverlands will kneel to Rhaenyra.”

“I do not want to leave King’s Landing unprotected,” he spoke sternly.

“You cannot possibly be thinking about flying to Harrenhal yourself.” Viserra’s eyes were wide and she felt her heart drop into her stomach. “That is madness, Aemond.”

Aemond broke their gaze and looked off to the side.

“You promised me you would not make any rash decisions,” she protested, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look back at her.

“It is not a rash decision.” The words came through his gritted teeth.

“It is a rash decision,” she argued. “I agree that we should not leave the Keep without a dragonrider to defend it. Bring Daeron here or let him join you to seek Daemon out. The goal is to kill your uncle and his dragon but also to return to the Keep alive and well.”

Aemond’s brows furrowed and she could tell that he was holding back whatever was going through his mind.

“Think on it,” she insisted. “But I will not let you go to Harrenhal alone.”

Viserra let his jaw go in frustration. Standing from the water, she briefly looked down at him before stepping out of the tub. Before the chill could settle in she wrapped a blanket around her body and left the small room. It had been only a few hours since she had made him promise he would not keep her in the dark and her suspicion of his ability to not make rash decisions already felt warranted.

Aemond did not immediately follow her but she did not care in that moment. Tending to her wet hair and warming herself by the fire, she hoped that he would come to his senses in realizing that flying to the Riverlands alone was not a good idea.

Viserra was standing in front of the flames when she heard Aemond’s footsteps approaching from behind. She looked over her shoulder to see him drying his wet hair with a cloth and could not help but enjoy the view of his unlaced breeches hanging loosely off of his hips.

Turning back to the fire, Viserra stood her ground and attempted to remain frustrated. The arms wrapped around her waist made it quite difficult and a soft kiss placed on her head made her almost fold and surrender to the tenderness.

“I will not go alone,” he promised, giving her another squeeze. “You have my word.”

Breathing out a long exhale, she finally let herself relax in his arms. His words were sufficient enough for the time being, but she would not put full trust in them until it actually happened. If they lost another dragon or a dragonrider, there would be no doubt that the war would be lost. And each of them had lost too much so far for their efforts to be made in vain.

#fanfiction #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond x aegon ii x oc #house of the dragon aemond #game of thrones #house targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x oc #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fic #houseofthedragon #aemond x oc #aemond smut #house of dragons

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