#like he pushes out his siblings and claims the throne

[dolicekiss]

Apple Of Their Eye

part one here

PAIRING: Aemond Targayen X sister!reader X Aegon Targayen

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), incest between siblings, virgin aemond, possessive behavior, threats, abuse, slut shaming, mentions of forced marriage, voyeurism, kissing, unprotected sex, polygamy, threesome, mating press, hickeys, usage of high valyrian during sex, aggressive aemond, doggystyle, raw filth, hand job, breeding, impregnating, swearing, territorial targaryen brothers, thigh riding, dry humping.

SYNOPSIS: Whispers have a habit of reaching ears, no matter how far and when a whisper about your rendezvous with your brothers reaches your mother, she loses it. Enraged, she strikes you but when your brothers find out, their wrath is enough to burn cities to the ground.

“Brother, someone might see.” Came a soft whimper from you as your brother continued to litter gentle kisses down your jaw, forming an invisible trail to your neck and already had he decided to kiss your collarbones too. It was embarrassing to engage in such actions in the hallways of the Red keep, knowing you were both at your peril.

Aegon didn't care though. He continued kissing you as if he didn't fuck you a few hours ago in the garden. His needs were insatiable and as much as you enjoyed it when your own brother pummeled his cock into your little cunt, you were always worried about getting caught too.

Your brother only let out a soft hum, his large hands moving to grab a handful of your breasts. Your state was disheveled and when you heard footsteps coming near, echoing in the high walls of the hallway, you gave a push to your brother. The expression on Aegon’s face was of complete displeasure as a servant walked passed you two, her gaze lowered but she didn't fail to notice the messed up state of the Princess.

You looked up at Aegon and as he tried to step closer to you, you decided to run off somewhere, with giggles escaping you. The King almost chased after you, but when he was called for a council meeting — he had to solemnly give up the idea of chasing after you and claiming you.

You ran with the assumption that your brother was behind you.

It didn't end well for you as you ended up crashing into someone else. In the arms of another dragon, more ferocious than the one before.

“Going somewhere, sister?”

Aemond’s soft voice was like fucking sugar to your ears. It was unfathomable how he had to speak once and your cunt would get soaked, especially when he would speak High Valyrian while fucking your mouth.

Unlike Aegon, Aemond still had not fucked you like his older brother. He lacked the time to give you full attention and fulfill your needs, as well as his. But today Aemond had decided to put the realm aside once and give you all his time and attention.

You squeezed your thighs, a feeble attempt to rid yourself of the impending feeling of arousal and need. You smiled at him but the way you looked at him, it was an invitation for him to take you right here in this damn hall, against the Iron Throne. Pupils blown out and plump lips parted, swollen definitely by the hands of Aegon.

Your brother reached to put a strand of silver behind your ear with his glove cladded fingers. “I asked you something, sweet sister and I expect an answer.”

You fucking melted whenever he refer to you as his sweet sister. Before it worked wonders but now, you weren't too sure but you'd grown completely obsessed with your own brothers. Last week the topic of Aemond’s marriage was brought up, same as yours and everyone noticed the sour look on the Princess’ face.

The realm’s delight was pissed, for the first time in awhile.

“I was running from Aegon.” You whispered to him, neck craned up to look at your taller brother.

Aemond smiled. “He won't be chasing you, sweet sister. He has the council to attend to.”

You let out a sigh. “Things were much better when Father was alive. I had all your and Aegon’s attention but now the realm demands it more.”

Your words made Aemond realize how good their lives were when you were all children, under the care of your father, the King. If only his father hadn't changed his mind on his death bed, if only his mother hadn't forced Aegon on the Iron Throne. It was all too overwhelming to think about, even for someone like Aemond and he brushed it all aside, replacing it with the thoughts of you.

“You will have all our attention when we win this war, sister. You will be Queen.” His words brought you ease but deep down the fear of something bad happening to both your brothers always tugged at your heartstrings. It lingered, like a threat and even you were not oblivious to the damage that this war will bring.

The chaos, the destruction, the pain.

It was all to real to ignore it.

Aemond’s hand moved to cup your cheek and you smiled, the worry disappearing from your face.

“Let me give you a kiss to ease your worries.”

You were ready for him, lips in a childish pout and Aemond always chuckled at how desperate you seemed for a kiss. It was lost on him why you'd grown this attached to them, to him — a monster he was. Beneath lurked darkness which he knew would one day swim up to the surface and consume your light. He feared that day and he wished for nothing more than to become better, for the sake of his sweet sister.

He had to bend, that's how short you were in comparison to him. The moment his lips met yours, it was a moment of peace but you did not know the chaos it would soon follow.

That single kiss would change the course of house Targaryen. Challenge years worth of tradition, power and would set a new law, abided by both men and Gods.

Butterflies flapped their wings, similar to dragons in your stomach as your brother firmly took your lips into a kiss. His growing need enough to nearly make him lose all control and take you right then and there on the stairs leading to the throne.

Your lids fell shut as you allowed your brother to kiss you, his head tilting and his fingers digging into the cheek he was holding — a testament to his broken self control. Aemond pulled away soon, to restore some dignity in him and you let out a soft breath.

A string of saliva leaving you connected to your brother's lips.

“I will come to your chambers tonight. You must wear a white gown and wait for me.” His command was strong and firm, leaving no room for disagreement.

You were never going to disagree anyway. Pleasing your brothers was all that mattered to you, especially when they had been nothing but kind to you. You nodded your head causing Aemond’s grip across your chin to tighten. “Use your mouth, gevie.” (Beautiful)

You swore you could feel your cunt beginning to grow more soaked each time your brother uttered even a word in High Valyrian. His was the best and even you grew envious of him at times at how dedicated and good he was. To you, Aemond was the epitome of a Targaryen man.

“Yes, brother.” You said in a breathless whisper, nodding your head along.

Aemond let out a satisfied hum, his gaze lingering to the way you rubbed your thighs now and then and fixed his posture. He rested his head on top of your head, patting it a few times. “Don't run around now. You will hurt yourself, little girl.”

You watched as your brother left, going into the same direction you had. Probably to head to the council. At times you wished you were a member of the small council too, so you'd be able to look and stare at your brothers all the time. Their youth had brought them unwanted attention and you were not fond of the idea.

Aegon needed a Queen for the realm, Aemond needed alliances for the realm and in order to secure those, he had to marry someone.

It all worked to agitate you.

Fuck the Realm.

You walked to your chambers and upon entering, you called for a servant to bring you the dress Aemond was referring to. It had always been his favorite on you. It was a lengthy dress with large sheer sleeves and a bow was stitched to its front. It was more of a night gown than a proper dress, if wore without small clothes. Your face flushed at the thought of Aemond seeing you in this, practically bare beneath the pellucid fabric of the gown.

A knock caught your attention and then the doors were opened, your mother’s face coming into view.

You smiled as she walked towards you, completely oblivious to the way she seethed at you. “Moth–”

The sound of skin colliding with skin reverberated in the room, bouncing off the high walls of your chambers. But what left you astonished was the slap your mother had delivered to your cheek. Pain blossomed along with crimson on the pale canvas as Alicent stared at you in pure anger as well as unmatched disgust.

Her hand moved to grab your arm, fingers digging into the soft skin. “You dare to lay with your own brothers, not one, but two of them?”

Your gaze flickered across the room, not having the courage to make eye contact with her as tears welled up in your eyes. This was the first time someone had ever treated you this harshly and the person being your own mother terrified you.

You struggled to speak, because you had nothing to say. All you could do was stand still as your mother reprimanded you, spewing out words which tugged at your heartstrings and forced your tears to run down.

“I was not aware I had given birth to a fucking common whore and not a Princess.” You flinched at her harsh tone, her tight searing grip and the way her other hand moved to grab your chin.

It was all too overwhelming for you, your sensitivity failing you here. Tears ran down your face in small streams, hoping that this would end. “Please mother–”

“Not a word.” Alicent snapped, her anger growing for you even more. It was mostly directed towards her sons, knowing fully well that they were capable of defiling their own sister but she had trust in you. She'd mistaken your love for your brothers as platonic. “Bold of you three to engage in such, heinous and obscene actions out in the open. You think I would not find out? The master of whispers is loyal to me!”

Her voice boomed through the room and with every high octave of her voice, you sobbed and flinched.

It was the comfort of your brothers that you craved. To run to them, wither away in their arms and cry your little heart out. Even as a little girl everyone thought twice before reprimanding you, but your mother had laid a hand on you. For the first time ever and it surely left a scar.

“You will marry Lord Tully, I will see to it.”

Your eyes widened as you shook your head, realizing in that moment that staying away from your brothers was something you could not endure. Born from the same womb, fathered by the same man, you three were almost like triplets attached to the hip of one another.

Being apart from them was a punishment even Gods were not cruel enough to cast upon you.

But your mother was.

With all your courage and strength, you pushed at her shoulders and lifted up your skirt — sprinting out of the door with bare feet. You were in the midst of changing your shoes as they'd grown dirty when your mother blessed you with her presence. You had no idea which brother to run to, absolutely clueless to where they were.

If your mother, a member of the small council was in your chambers that meant the council had been dismissed.

Still with little hope, you slammed open the doors of the room where the meetings took place, only to find it empty. Crestfallen, you ran back into the hallway you came from, running outside hoping to find your other brother training.

Upon running out in the open area, your gaze flit here and there, a blurred one it was from all the hopeless crying you'd done in your despair.

You found the silver long strands of your brother flowing in the air as he moved swiftly against Ser Criston Cole. Your lips breaking into a soft smile as more tears fell, your dirty feet taking you to your brother. Everyone in the area witnessed the disheveled state of the Princess, yet no one dared to say a word about it.

Ser Criston stopped moving, dropping his sword and looking behind Aemond’s shoulder where you stood.

He immediately turned around when amidst the stench of sweat, metal and smoke, he caught a whiff of roses. There you were, trembling as you barely managed to hold your own frame. Aemond’s one eye widened, noticing your situation and the large handprint across your face did not go unnoticed by him.

“Who?”

You sobbed, your small hands reached for his chest as you laid your head against it.

Aemond’s fingers that once gripped the hilt of the sword now loosened, causing it to drop and come in contact with the floor. The whole of the training grounds had grown completely silent, witnessing the scene unfold before them. The prince was fucking pissed, the tremor in his jaw evident to everyone else around him and his aura changing.

He was no more composed.

“Who, Princess?”

You couldn't even speak properly without breaking your words apart. “M-Mother found out, Aemond. She will get me married now. I'm scared— I'm scared. I do not wish to leave you and Aegon. I am happy here, with you two. Why must I go? Why must–must I marry Lord Tully?”

Aemond’s mind blanked out, only your words lingering in it. He would burn the whole realm down before seeing you get married to someone else other than him, or his brother. You were theirs, their birthright. Aegon’s was the throne, he was second in line — a prince, a future knight maybe but before all that, you were their true birthright, made for them, crafted by the Gods in the same fucking womb they once nestled in.

Even if Aegon was easily manipulated by Alicent — which he doubt would happen as his brother shared the same feelings as he did for you, Aemond would not allow you to be taken from him. He had grown unloved, a boy broken beyond repair and you somehow still saw the good in him. You sought out comfort in a man the whole of Seven Kingdoms feared.

You, out of everyone, believed he too was deserving of love and you went out of your way to prove it.

Before he'd even proven his worth as a Targaryen by claiming Vhagar, you stood by him. When he lost his eye, it was you who was ready to tarnish the reputation of your own nephews as revenge for your brother’s eye. It was you who went beyond and all for the sake of your brother and most would call you a loyal hound but Aemond saw a beautiful girl that was willing to do anything for him.

His pain had ended — but now his mother, Alicent was going to freshen up old wounds.

He could not allow that to happen.

If you were taken from him, Aemond would mount Vhagar and burn the whole of King’s Landing down. He would not stop, he would descend into absolute madness, leaving nothing for his pretender of a half sister to rule. Everything ashes, destroyed and demolished.

The realm’s delight was a soothing gel, an apology from the Gods, a flourishing flower, a lover for Aemond and he would destroy anything and anyone that would intervene between them.

If the conclusion to this dangerous predicament was betraying his own mother, he did not find himself distressed by the idea.

Aemond didn't say anything, instead his hand wrapped around your wrist as he pulled you along with him. Known about Aegon’s whereabouts, he lead you to his chambers and upon entering, he saw the King engaging in a conversation with one of his squires.

“Out.”

The squire hurried, nodding its head and leaving the King’s presence at once.

Aemond pulled you along until you both were stood before the King. “Look at her. This is the consequence of your actions, Aegon.”

Aegon stared at you in pure scrutiny and as his purple irises ran over the marks of red fingers and palm imprinted on your cheek, his nostrils flared with anger. Your silver hair a mess, hair sticking out of your braids and your lips wobbled — everytime a fresh of tears sliding down and tainting your face even more.

“Who fucking dared to lay hand on the Princess? Give me their name and I will have their fucking head!” Aegon shouted and your previous rendezvous with your mother lead you to flinch, body leaning into Aemond’s in a desperate endeavor to seek comfort.

Aemond’s jaw tightened. “Alicent Hightower.”

“Mother? She wouldn't. Our sister is loved dearly by her.” Aegon’s eyebrows furrowed and Aemond scoffed. “Our sister was loved dearly by her, until she went ahead and broke the fucking rules.”

You sniffled, gaze lowered to the ground. The way your mother had addressed to you as some whore made you feel shame with such intensity, you could not even meet their gazes without bile rising up in your throat. Aegon walked to you, both hands reaching to cup your face. His thumb swiping across the mark in hopes that it would melt within the skin and disappear.

But it stayed behind.

“Aegon, she said–said I was worse than a whore. That she'd given birth to a whore instead of a Pr–Princess.” You bursted into a fit of tears and sobs, breaking apart in your brother's hold and Aegon looked at Aemond, a fire similar to his brother’s awakening in his purple gaze.

They were too eager, to protect you.

To get rid of their mother in this very instant but you needed them, you needed them to comfort you and be there for you.

“Listen to me.” Aegon lifted your head up, making you lock eyes with him. “There is no power in this world that can keep you away from us. Do you understand, my little dove? I will see the whole world burn before letting someone else have you.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Aemond wrapped his arms around you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Gods, this was all they wanted. To have you for themselves, all to themselves. Just a simple little thing yet customs, traditions and what fucking not got in between.

It angered them both.

If Aegon the conqueror could take two wives, why couldn’t a Princess take two husbands?

Was their house not about securing their bloodline? What better way than wedding the Princess to her two brothers, the King and the Prince. It was the only solution to this mess and both your brothers would see it happen.

“Don't cry,” Aemond whispered against your nape. “I will burn everything down, please. Don't cry anymore.”

You understood what your brother implied with his words and love for him swelled in your chest. Your mere tears affected him to an extent he would commit such a gruesome crime, against his own mother too. You tried to quieten down, sobs turning into soft sniffles as the twitching of your shoulders came to a halt.

“Trust me, my Princess. You must have faith in me.” You nodded at Aegon’s comforting words.

After all he had the bigger play at hand. He was the King, the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and had everyone beneath him.

Your small hand reached over to hold Aegon’s face in it, fingers caressing the soft supple skin. “I'm terrified, Aegon. She wishes to wed me to Lord Tully.”

“Fucking Riverrun Lord.” Aegon cursed, shaking his head. “I will bring you his head, put it at your fucking feet.”

Aemond hummed at the idea in satisfaction as he could not imagine you being in the presence of another man. Laying in the arms of another, being bred, giving birth to some dark haired children. The image instilled him with repulsion.

“You belong to us.” Aemond growled in your ear, his bare fingers moving to push your hair aside, revealing your pale neck to him. You whimpered when you felt him press a kiss to your sensitive nape, body tensing up. “Every inch of you, sweet sister. Your beautiful hair, your soft lips, from your breasts to your little cunt. It belongs to us and it will fucking stay that way, forever. There is no one in the Seven Kingdoms that can stand between us.”

Your back arched, lower half pressing into Aemond while the upper half pushed against Aegon. Breasts flush into Aegon’s chest and ass curved perfectly against Aemond’s bulge. Your tears had dried off by now but your lip still twitched from the ferocity you'd faced.

Before things could escalate further, the door was slammed open and Alicent stood there, her calm expression switching into one of anger as she witnessed the state of you sandwiched between her brothers. The woman lost all calm — taking powerful strides towards you but before she could actually reach you and tear you apart from your brothers, they stood in front of you.

Concealing your small, shivering figure from their mother.

“I will not have you continue this debauchery and ruin the honor of your house!” Alicent shouted and Aegon felt you flinch, your small fingers wrapped around his sleeve. Your other hand doing the same to Aemond’s leather tunic.

Aemond swallowed, to compose himself but Aegon had little to no respect left for his mother anymore. “What you call debauchery are actions done by our predecessors. Do you not remember Aegon the conqueror taking two wives, mother?”

Alicent’s eyes widened. “He was a man, a King! You cannot suggest something as baffling as this.”

“I am not asking, I am telling you.” Aegon spoke, stepping forward.

But his mother was not going to have it. The woman reached for you, pushing past her sons and when her fingers managed to wrap around your frail wrist, she tugged and pain shot through your wrist. Your loud cry acting as an immediate order for your brothers to protect you.

“Let her go!” Aegon stepped forward and so did Aemond, holding his mother's hand as he pulled.

All the commotion only made you cry out even more, the metal from your mother's rings digging into your skin, almost piercing through it and evoking blood. “I will not tolerate this. Do not pull her into your sick desires, she is but a child!”

“She is a child for us but is old enough to wed Lord Tully? You were always a hypocrite, mother.” Aemond called out, trying to pull his raging mother apart from you without causing you much pain.

You sobbed, trying to somehow squirm your wrist out of your mother's grasp. “You are hurting me, mother.”

Alicent was too far gone to even consider the fact that she was bringing her own daughter pain. The slap was to reprimand you, how mothers often do their child but by now the metal had slashed through your skin, little droplets staining your mother's hand as well as your wrist.

Aegon glared at the woman. “I am your King and I command you to unhand the Princess or I will have your fucking head.”

That is when Alicent’s grip loosened, her adamance dropping and you were quick to pull out of her hold. Your wrist stung and as you held it, Aemond caught the red peeking beneath your skin. He did not realize when he stepped forward or when his hand found his mother's throat, or when he nearly suffocated her.

It was all too much, and too fast.

“Dare hurt her again and I will kill you with my own bare hands.” Aemond threatened — meaning every word with his whole chest and Alicent knew that this son of hers was capable of harming her.

But as was Aegon now, as he too had seen the blood tainting your pale skin.

“You will send a raven to Lord Tully and you will tell him the Princess will be marrying her brother, The King, to become the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.” It was spoken strictly but with an underlining of threat and Alicent could only nod.

Aemond released her and her hand immediately flew to grasp at her throat, dragging out choked and strained breaths.

“And then the Queen will have me as her second husband.” Aemond finished with a smug smile.

Alicent shook her head. “This is beyond unacceptable. The realm will not tolerate it.”

You stood there, lips trembling and eyes swollen as you continuously let out more tears. Your mother shot you a look of pure disgust but deep down she knew that it was not really your fault. Your brothers encouraged this mess, all of it but she didn't know that you too were hopelessly in love with both your brothers.

“We're the fucking Targaryens. Rulers of the the realm, we write history and make tradition.” Aegon said, proudly as he glanced at his sister with a softened look in his eye. “If anyone wishes to start a war over the Queen getting fucked by her two brothers, we're more than welcome to engage in it.”

Aegon knew sunfyre and Vhagar alone could clear out the whole of the realm.

Alicent spared you one last glance before turning around, running out of the room. Her state was the same as yours now and you almost felt a sense of pride. Yet the hurt had not subsided. Your own mother harming you like this was something you had never expected.

Once alone with your brothers, Aemond took a hold of your hand, as gently as he could and looked at it. There were droplets of blood everywhere on your wrist and he felt his own boil at the sight. “I shall call for the maester.”

He soon arrived and while he bandaged your wound as you laid on the bed, both brothers at each side, he could not ignore the tension with which the room was elevated. He finished his work as quickly as possible and after giving you a few drops of milk of the poppy, he left the chambers.

Aegon lifted your wrist, bringing it to his lips and you watched as your brother pressed kisses against the bandage. Featherlight and gentle.

“I—I feel bad.” You voiced out your feelings, somewhere feeling at fault for all this mess.

You blamed it on your abundance desire to prove your love for your brothers.

Aemond shifted closer to you, hand in your hair, fingers massaging your scalp. “You mustn't. You are not at fault, my sister. You're the most sweetest little girl and you deserve all the love in the world.”

Your cheeks bled crimson.

This was the first time ever Aemond had been this open with you, this raw and maybe it was because he almost lost you. He knew better than to be his usual stoic self with the likes of you.

“She wishes to wed you to someone too, Aemond.” You pouted, looking up at your brother. “I can't share you, I resent the idea of it. It brings me unease and repulses me. I think I might kill whoever you get betrothed to.”

Aemond nearly cooed at how your jealousy was finally pouring out. He exchanged a glance with Aegon who almost seemed proud that his little dove was capable of sounding this strict, but fucking adorable. Gods, they were a lost cause.

“The only person I will be marrying is you, sweet sister. I belong to you, and forever will.”

It was as if his words had magic and the pout disappeared from your lips, replaced by a honey smile. You moved your other hand and tugged at his sleeve. “Do I still get to wear that white dress for you tonight?”

“You're hurt, Gevie. I wouldn't wa—”

You quickly sat up. “I'm fine! Look at me, I'm perfectly fine. Please Aemond.”

“May I also know what the fuck is going on here about this white dress?” Came a very irritated question from Aegon as he looked between the two of you.

Your cheeks burned and Aemond decided to explain. “I told her to wear her white dress for me when I will visit her chambers tonight. Before, unexpectedly, this turn of events happened.”

“You meant to fuck our sister without me?”

Gods, his older brother was as dramatic as they came. Behaving as if he had not claimed you first and multiple times. “You took her maidenhood and then proceeded to fuck her in the gardens too. Let me have my fill.”

“You can have all your fill you fucking want, Aemond. I'm fine with just watching.” Aegon suggested and the idea wasn't so bad, only he knew that Aegon would eventually lose all restraint and end up joining them too.

He sighed. “Alright.”

Then he turned to you. “You okay? Can you go to your chambers and wait for me, hm?”

You quickly nodded your head, sitting up on your knees now. You pushed forward and put all your weight on your palms, leaning in to kiss your brother's lips. You felt your older brother's hand roam over your spine, moving against your head as he pushed your lips deeper against Aemond’s.

“Suck on it, come on.” Aegon encouraged you, recalling the lessons. “Exactly how I taught you, little dove.”

You nodded as your cunt produced the essence of your arousal. Your lips puckered up, closing around Aemond’s upper one as you sucked. His hand moved to grab a handful of your breasts and you whimpered into the kiss. It soon ended when both of you pulled apart to inhale some oxygen.

Your cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

“I need you to go now, my sweet sister.”

You hopped off the bed, not before giving Aegon a kiss too but with less intensity and not that he minded. He knew he'd have his fill of yours sooner or later too. For now it was his younger brother's turn to own you, to claim you fully.

Aegon’s stomach churned with anticipation, thinking of Aemond driving his cock into the walls of your tight cunt and he shuddered meanwhile Aemond’s own cock hardened at the sight of you walking out of the chambers, hips swaying here and there.

Both were painfully hard.

“I want to breed her, get her with child.” Aemond suddenly broke the silence and Aegon chuckled. “Even if it is your child, we wouldn't know for sure. Look at us, we look the fucking same.”

“Perhaps,” Aemond agreed. His brother had a very valid point. Two Targaryen men fucking a Targaryen girl — all of them having silver hair and the same features, only a tad bit different.

Aemond stared at the door. “She has not shown signs as of yet, so I must fuck her over and over again until I know for sure she is with child.”

“Are you that desperate to have your child inside her, or maybe it is the Iron Throne you wish to see your child to ascend.” Aemond groaned, body going slump in the sheets at his brother's words.

It was not his desire, as obvious as it seemed it was.

“You took her maidenhood, Aegon. I want her to bear my child first.”

Aegon stared at his brother, blinking shortly before breaking into a fit of laughter. He could not believe that his cunning brother cared more about petty emotions such as jealousy than actually using this situation to put his heir on the throne. It was too amusing for him.

“You are fucking obsessed, brother.”

Nightime fell.

The hour of the bat had settled in, the moon proudly beaming up in the dark sky, dominating it.

You were already dressed in your white dress, awaiting your brothers but the butterflies of anticipation nipped at your stomach for Aemond.

You paced back and forth in the room, the white end of your dress trailing behind you. The doors were soon pushed open and you saw Aemond walk in. His staunter always filling you with excitement, as heat rushed to your face. His sword glued to his hip and you tried peeking behind but to your disappointment, your older brother was nowhere to be found.

It was only Aemond.

“Brother, where is Aegon?”

Aemond stopped in front of you, hands held behind his slim back. “Oh, did my sweet sister not wish to see me?”

Your face contorted in confusion and you were quick to shake your head. Hand reaching to grasp around your younger brother's, a frown ceasing your delicate features. “Absolutely not, Aemond. In fact I have been looking forward to seeing you, my eyes were glued to my door.”

Your confession made him chuckle as he brought his hand up to your face, caressing the skin with the back of his fingers.

“Is that so?” Aemond asked. To you he seemed normal, stoic and devoid of any emotions but on the inside Aemond battled his demons. Restraint was slowly slipping and the Prince wished for nothing more than to fuck you, right here, against the fucking floor if he willed. His desires were often concealed, kept at bay which made him more dangerous than his brother, Aegon.

He'd kept himself pure, untouched for you.

Aegon encouraged him, to indulge in other women. Whores that would keep his lust for his own sister at bay but as usual, Aemond always declined. He knew that his body only yearned for his sister, not some used whore fucked by countless.

His pure — sweet innocent sister.

You nodded your head with a pout forming on your lips. “I missed you. I waited for you ever since I left Aegon's chambers. For a moment I thought you wouldn't come.”

“How could I not come?” Aemond whispered, breath mingling with yours. “Do you think me cruel enough to make my beautiful sister wait like this?”

With a shake of your head, you covered Aemond’s hand on your cheek with yours. A soft lick of your tongue at your lips made your brother lose the idea of self control, his cold demeanor crumbling apart. His boots tapped aggressively over the floor as he cornered you against the pillar of your bed. Your breath hitched — throat parching as Aemond buried his face in your neck, his nose catching whiff of your scent.

“Iksan ribazmoqitta syt ao, mandia.” Aemond murmured and you whimpered at his High Valyrian, feeling his nose trail up your neck and then back down, grazing against your collar bones. (I'm crazy for you, sister)

Your thighs subconsciously pressed together and Aemond noticed it. He licked his own lips as he brought his face up to yours and locked lips with you. You were take aback by the sheer aggression he held, how violet he was being when his large hands began ripping away at the dress. One shoulder ripped while the other in a perfect state. His fingers clasped around your waist, digging into the skin as he moved his mouth skilfully against yours.

All that you had learned, was now slowly disappearing from your mind as your brother dominated your mouth like a savage. You gasped when he pushed open your thighs with his knee, settling it between them. Aemond took your gasp as a chance to slip his tongue inside your mouth and the moment he did, you reached heaven. His rigid tongue battled with yours, wrapping around it and sucking on it eagerly like a babe sucking milk from its mother’s teats.

“Ae—”

You tried parting from him but he didn't allow it. Simply, he sat down on the bed and pulled you onto his thigh. Everytime Aemond would bounce up his thigh, a whine would escape your lips feeling the rigidity of skin deliver sensations to your sweet pearl. Your hands moved to his shoulders, laying as you tried to hold yourself together.

“Tonight I get to be the one inside your cunt, sweet sister.” Aemond growled, his chest rumbling with unlaced desires. “Your little cunt will be the first I would ever fuck.”

Your eyes widened. Confusion clouding your features as you'd assumed your brothers has already done this before. Aegon had — so why did Aemond hesitate? Before you could question him, your lips fell apart and desperate whimpers orchestrated.

“I-I will be your first?” You somehow managed and Aemond nodded, bouncing you on his thigh.

He was fucking hard, his cock stirring in his breeches. “Yes, my Princess. I made a promise that is it only your cunt I shall drive my cock in.”

You whimpered. “Oh, Aemond.”

Your brother had lost every bit of restraint and had been tipped over the edge. Aemond pushed you off him onto the bed and watched with his one eye as your small body bounced off the mattress, an expression of shock adorning your features. He wasn't going to be as soft as Aegon — he knew that deep down and he was going to make sure that you knew it too.

Jealousy that Aegon had you first riled him up.

Aemond stared at you, dress ripped and hair a beautiful mess, silky strands laying over your shoulders. Your dress ripped in places, shreds of it missing. He swallowed, hands unbuckling his belt and tossing his heavy sword aside, followed by the removal of his gloves and clothes. You stared at your brother in pure awe as he finally stood before you in all his glory.

Aemond was taller, leaner, sharper.

His muscles taut and standing out from the rest of him.

He crawled towards you, like a dangerous animal and in this moment Aemond almost resembled Vhagar. How he stalked closer to you, instilling fear within you as your brother reached for your ankle and clasped his fingers around it, tugging on it and pulling you closer to him.

“Open your legs.” It was a command, that was proven. “Be a good little girl and show me your sweet cunt."

You obliged, thighs parting open and the cold air brushing against your soaked cunt caused heat and chills to take over. Aemond let out a groan at the sight. How sweetly you parted your legs and how your pink pussy peeked back at him — glistening from your creamy arousal. It enticed him like nothing else, sending hot blood rushing down into the veins of his cock.

“Do you grow this wet each time I speak a word in High Valyrian?” He asked with a soft scoff, embarrassing you furthermore. Your hands had fisted at your chest as you slowly dragged your head up and down. Aemond had the most beautiful High Valyrian you'd ever heard and it would be a lie to say it did not work to entice you.

It was alluring.

Aemond didn't waste time getting on top of of you, holding his cock as he aligned it along your hole.

His ache to be inside you was something he tried to suppress since the past few days but he failed. Every time taking the company of his own hand, using it to bring him relief and imagining it to be his sister's cunt. He was a depraved man, worse than Aegon.

“Aemond,” you whimpered when your brother pushed past your folds, his thick cock head stretching you beyond your limits. It proved that it was thicker than Aegon's, more longer and your back rose up from the mattress.

Aemond rested his weight on one bent elbow by the side of your face while his other grabbed your chin, fingers dimpling in your cheeks. “Look at me. Look at me while I fuck you, sweet sister. Fucking look at me.”

Though his words were full of aggression, his voice was soft like the clouds. Everything about him was rough, with sharp edges but his voice. It was gentle and it drove you fucking insane. Growing drunk on it everytime you listened.

Your stomach twisted as Aemond buried himself inside you to the hilt with one single push. It sent your body forward and your eyes rolled into the darkness based at the back of your skull. Tears fell as your wet walls sucked in your brother's cock, wrapped tightly around and Aemond groaned — thighs shuddering. It was his first time and Aemond realized it was worth the wait. It was worth turning down the whores, declining their offers or looking down upon them. It was all fucking worth it and your brother had finally found solace from the war in your delicious cunt.

“Gods,” Aemond almost whined like a child at how good you felt, fitting his cock perfectly like you were made for him. “You were so worth the wait, sister. If it is to fuck you, to put a babe in you, to breed you, I would wait a hundred years more.”

His hands shifted to grab your thighs, pushing them up. Your legs went up in the air and your eyes slammed open, widening at the brazen position your brother had contorted your body in. Aemond pushed more and eventually your thighs met your breasts as he began to pound his cock into you, watching how it slipped in and out of your gummy walls — the sound of flesh meeting flesh sending him over the edge.

Your stomach was taut and with a new, strong thrust you felt your brother's cock prod at the skin of your stomach, a newfound pleasure dominated your body. Aemond had not only found your sweet spot but also tore through all barriers, reaching your womb.

“Aemond, my brother. Brother— oh please!”

The aforementioned’s pace only picked up upon hearing you address to him as yours. It was enough to make him go fucking insane as he pummeled his cock deeper inside you, watching the bulge form on your stomach with a frustrated expression. All the pent up tension from war, training endlessly for hours and anger towards his enemies was slowly pouring out.

Aemond knew that he would break you. He wholly possessed the power for it.

“Gevie riña, ñuha gevie riñītsos.” Aemond moaned, his silky hair caressing your face, softly. “Kesan dīnagon iā rūs isse ao.” Your pussy’s endeavor to suck your brother in did not go unnoticed by him. You were truly a sight as your cunt throbbed around Aemond’s cock when he'd spoken High Valyrian. It left you in a complete daze, your own desires pooling in your stomach.(Beautiful girl, my beautiful little girl. I won't stop until you're with child)

A hoarse chuckle escaped Aemond. “It arouses you, my sweet sister? Listening to your brother speak High Valyrian? I can feel your little cunt trying to swallow me whole.”

Heat rushed beneath your cheeks as you nodded your head, fingernails dragging down against his biceps, evoking streams of blood.

Both of you were so occupied with one another, no one noticed Aegon entering your chambers or walking towards the two of you, or when he took a seat on a chair facing the bed. You cried out, tears continuously sliding down as Aemond’s rapid thrusts made him pant like an animal in heat.

“Careful now, you'll break the poor girl.” Aegon interrupted his brother's debauchery.

Aemond’s hips came to a halt, but his cock was still sunken inside you. He glared at his brother, the sapphire dancing in his empty eye socket. A sight he'd entrusted few people with.

“Continue.” was all Aegon said, slumping back into his seat.

He watched with a lustful gaze as his younger brother continued to drill his cock into your cunt, squelching sounds filling the air in the room. You were a sobbing mess and Aegon acknowledged that his brother was the beast amongst them both. With how relentless Aemond seemed, growing impatient second by second.

He soon switched positions, flipping you on your stomach like a rag doll and pulling you up by your frail arms against his broad, well-built chest. His cock was still inside you and as Aemond held you over it, he brought his lips to your ear.

“Hop now, sweet sister. Give our older brother a show.” All you could do was sniffle, tears blurring your vision as you started to lift your ass up. You somehow made a rhythm, bouncing up and down on Aemond’s cock while he put his weight on his palms forced into the mattress.

Your back glistened with sweat and oils — pale skin a replica of the moon. Even compared to the moon, you were somehow the most prettiest. Your hair got in your face, hovering as you grinded on your brother's cock.

Heat emanated from your petite figure whilst your parted drool covered lips let out the most delicious little sounds.

Aemond glanced at Aegon and found him already with his cock in his hand. Erect with precum leaking from his tip. He stroked himself while watching you ride his brother like your life depended on it. The dedication your face was riddled with made him breathless.

“She's so obedient.” Aemond grunted as you pushed down on his cock. “It almost makes me want to devour her whole.”

Aegon nodded in agreement, eyebrows closed in together as the movement of his hand fastened.

Aemond reached for your arms, pulling you against his chest and taking the lead. He thrusted up, his hips finding a rhythm to work with as his grip tightened on your skin. You whined, head thrown over his shoulder as Aemond felt his peak dance around him.

“Invite Aegon in.” He whispered against your ear. “Be a good sister and help him.”

You turned to Aegon, your cunt tightening around Aemond at the sight of your brother this disheveled and out of breath.

You turned to Aegon, your cunt tightening around Aemond at the sight of your brother this disheveled and out of breath.

“A-Aegon, please come here.”You whimpered, patting the bed and Aegon rose up from the chair, shifting on the bed and sitting in front of you. You reached for his cock, wrapping your hand around it. Slick covered your hand as you moved it up and down, your thumb caressing the slit of his head.

The three of you moaned in unison, whines along with groans and grunts filling up the room. The scenario almost reminded Aegon of the brothel he'd often visit and he sighed, throwing his head back as he let you bring him the best of pleasures. Your little wrist moved swiftly, to drag an orgasm out of your brother – his cock throbbing and warm against your skin.

Aemond held you tightly, using your cunt to satisfy himself. You felt so fucking small in his hold and the thought of putting a child in you drove him insane.

“I'm going to taint your pretty walls all white, sweet sister.” Aemond whispered from behind in your ear, his deep voice birthing chills on your spine while Aegon let out desperate whines, close to bursting in your small hand.

He soon came — white fluid staining your pale hand, almost the same color. You sobbed as Aemond’s thrusts increased, growing more relentless. Your brother tossed you on the bed after you'd pleasured Aegon and buried his cock deep inside you, your knees helping you support your ass perched in the air.

Your back arched, face buried in the sheets, Aemond took you from behind. His cock prodding over and over again at your sensitive spot.

“Greedy cunt.” Aemond grunted, large hands cupping the entirety of your waist as he felt his peak near. “You like this, hm? You enjoy getting destroyed by your brothers. Gods, sister. You're such a fucking cocksleeve.”

Holding onto to the tethered pieces of his sanity and humanity, your brother drilled his cock into you. Loud pants concealed by the sounds of skin against skin, Aemond growled as his balls throbbed to fill you with his seed and he did – shooting ropes of his spent inside you. Holding you against him as he filled you up.

“Aemond! Please, please. Too much, can't take it—Brother please!” Your muffled wails echoed, sobbing into the pillows and all Aemond did was fuck into you harder, more rougher. It was too much for your little body but Aemond was too far gone.

With a loud muffled cry, you tightened around your brother and came all over his cock. Your gummy walls so tight, so wet, enough to tear an orgasm through your brother too. Aemond pumped you full of his load, his thrusts slowing down as he moved his hips sensually now, in slow strokes, fucking his spent deep into you.

Surely this would get you with his child.

“Fuck.” Aemond shivered as you milked him dry, sucking him in more and more until you'd drained him fucking dry of any more seed. “You're so desperate to have my child inside you.”

He was right.

The idea of being swollen with your brother's babe was innocent but it enticed you to no ends.

For a moment your body was allowed to rest as Aemond let it go, watching how it fell against the mattress but then you felt it being lifted up again. Your eyes that had fluttered shut now snapped open again as Aegon pulled apart your buttocks, revealing your gaping hole with his own brother's residual leaking out.

Aegon didn't waste a moment sliding his own hardened cock inside the same hole his brother was in not long ago. Your energy was spent and you let it happen, your older brother holding your lower body as he used you to bring himself to a release.

All you could do was sob and let out tiny whines of disapproval.

“Sh, sh.” You felt a hand on your head and turned your head to find a naked Aemond sitting by your side. “Its okay. He deserves this, yeah? Let him fuck my seed further into your womb.”

You could only nod but your strained face let your brother know how tired you were. He glanced up at Aemond and found him already on the brink of his peak — his nails digging into the flesh of your arse as he continued digging his cock deeper into you. Aegon loved how because of his brother's seed slicking your walls, his own cock slid easily in an out of you. The wet sounds arousing him to no extent.

Soon he also filled you up, spending fully inside you and colliding next to you. Aegon immediately began to leech off your warmth, burying his face in your neck as he let out a murmur.

You whimpered, feeling heavy with the seed of both your brothers. Your cunt had grown heavy as you felt the warm liquid seep out of your hole, making a mess on your thighs and sliding down your clit. Your head nuzzled into Aemond’s side for comfort as both brothers laid next to you, cuddling you like their life depended on it.

Days had passed.

You paced back and forth in your room, fingers fiddling with one another. Your heart thumping rapidly in your chest, impatiently awaiting the arrival of your brother – husbands in your shared chambers.

Right after spending the night together, on the morrow both your brothers married you and dared all the members of the small council, lords, high born or low borns to come and challenge them. Prevent your union but no one dared to.

Turns out, one could do anything when you're in possession of three dragons, Seven Kingdoms and the crown.

The doors of the chambers opened and you smiled upon seeing them. One with crown, other with sword. Your feet took off as you embraced both your brothers in a tight grip and inhaled their scents.

“Hello to you too, wife.” Aegon chuckled, bringing his arm to wrap it around you, Aemond pursuing his actions.

You broke apart and pulled the two to the bed, sitting them down and the two exchanged a silent look between them, rather puzzled by your ecstatic behavior. You let out a sigh, bracing yourself.

“I have something to share.”

Aemond raised a brow. “Go on, wife.”

The term of endearment always filled you with butterflies each time you were addressed with it. Gods, your cheeks were swollen from smiling to an extent they hurt from it.

You beamed. “I'm with child.”

Both brothers looked at one another. Aemond was stunned but Aegon stood up, surprise in his gaze. “You–You're with child? I'll be a father, I'll be a fucking father!”

You nodded and then looked at Aemond but all he did was press an open palm over your flat stomach before also rising to his feet and leaning forward. “You've made us the happiest in all of Weteros.” Aemond pressed a kiss to your forehead and then embraced you in a hug, Aegon joining in. Both of them were beyond happy and could not believe that they were going to be fathers.

It mattered not that who the actual father to the child in your womb was — as long as it was fathered by one of them. They would love the babe no matter the gender, no matter who's blood coursed through its veins which made your heart flutter as you knew it.

Despite having such a controversial relationship, the three of you were pleased, content and happy.

[youraverageaemondsimp]

To Ruin. // Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

THIS IS A DARK FIC, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

MDNI

block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to avoid seeing dark content from me.

Summary: you are aegon's and helaena's daughter, being the eldest triplet, you were betrothed to your older uncle Aemond the moment you were born, he seemed to show no interest in you, being lost in his own world until he returns to kings landing and sees you again, in your prime age. // based on this request.

WARNINGS: noncon to dubcon, p in v sex, fingering, orgasm denial, knife kink, blood kink, dacryphilia, breeding kink, choking kink, corruption kink, purity culture, age system is in accordance to medieval/canon standards and not modern but do not worry they dont get sexual until reader is 19, virginity loss, tiddy sucking, thoughts of violence, fucked up shit, age gap (13 years), extreme canon divergence, cunty aemond + not proofread

WC: 4.3k

The moment you were born, you were immediately betrothed to your uncle, Aemond Targaryen. Alicent never wanted to betroth or marry someone from the same family after Aegon and Helaena but Otto convinced her to do so, even if they see it as a sin. Telling her that it would secure the hightower blood further down the line.

When Aemond was informed of this, he laughed, he was just thirteen back then, the idea of marrying someone that was just born seemed comical to him, especially when the babe was his elder sister's and elder brother's daughter, but he quickly accepted it, as he realised it was his duty.

Aegon however, was against it, calling you too young, but he was only sixteen at that time so his opinion was disregarded.

You were the oldest by an hour to your younger siblings, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.

You were informed of your betrothal to your uncle when you were ten years old, that's when they deemed you old enough to understand what marriage and everything was. Aemond had turned twenty three that year, performing his duties as the prince of the realm, securing aegon's claim to the throne, claiming lands and power back to their hands successfully. At the end, Rhaenyra was successfully usurped, having lost way too much before she died at the hands of Aegon. And then came Aemond's march to Harrenhal, killing off every person that contained even a single droplet of the strong blood, except he spared one, Alys rivers, who he took as his war spoil and a bedmate.

He spent most of his time there with her in Harrenhal, burying himself deep inside of her, and other political matters, only returning to King's Landing when he was needed, just like now, but what he didn't expect was you. He was surprised to see you.

You were no more the gangly limbed child he knew you as and remembered you to be, your breasts and hips were fuller, your face having lost its childlike appearance as you were going through puberty, becoming more sharp and mature, having recently turned seventeen, You were becoming a woman now. You greeted him with a small smile. “Welcome back, Uncle.” you greeted him and he swallowed thickly, hoping you had not noticed how his breeches tightened as he got hard at the sight of you. Your beauty captured him.

“Niece, you've grown.” he comments, eyes shamelessly roaming over your breasts, which you weren't aware of, “You too Uncle, it has been a while since we properly saw each other.” you tell him and he hums, looking at the soft flush of your breasts pushing against the bodice, almost calling out to him to set them free, he fought with every urge to not do so.

It was when he spent some time with you, he realised he didn't know you at all, so he put in effort into knowing you, courting you properly which you were taken aback by, always knowing him to be distant towards you, but that was only because you were a child, you are a woman now, and he was a lot interested and willing to be with you.

It was on your eighteenth name day, which he attended, when he cut off multiple ladies tongues out for bad mouthing you, they had said mean things about you, calling you too old now, that nobody would be interested in marrying you if your betrothal to Aemond was called off, which was unsurprisingly a rumor circulating due to Aemond's involvement with Alys, his disinterest in you and your grandmother, Alicent, doing nothing to make the betrothal move forward. It had been a messy name day but it was also the moment you fell in love with your uncle, impressed by how he defended your honour and your name.

Aemond had to return to harrenhal as there were some pressing issues which needed to be taken care of, and he was less than enthusiastic about it, not even the thought of seeing his spoil made him excited. He was sitting on his chair doing the paperwork when Alys walked into the room, she sat on his lap and caressed his face, “What is it my love?” she cooed and he sighed heavily, not in the mood for her, “Get out.” he said, and Alys was heavily hurt by it, but left nonetheless. His mind was constantly on you, he remembers how your breasts pressed against his chest when you hugged him during your name day, and he immediately gets hard at the thought, that night, he finishes in his hand before cleaning himself up.

You had plagued his mind, cause he couldn't look at his lover nor bed her anymore because she isn't you, he was becoming more and more insatiable, tired of fucking his own hand, he was in need of a real cunt.

He stopped ordering silk green dresses for Alys and instead ordered dresses of material you would wear, the colour palette you dearly loved, and requested her to wear those instead, and do her hair up in a way you did, so he could at least pretend she was you when he fucked her, moaning your name loudly while being buried inside of her cunt. He knew he was being cruel to Alys, but he couldn't give a fuck, and Alys kept quiet, not wanting to anger him, knowing that he could kill her.

But it still wasn't enough, no, because it wasn't you.

Aemond was so delighted when he was called to the keep again, it means he got to see you, it was to discuss matters of the realm, and after what seems like hours, his mother finally changes the topic. Which catches his immediate attention.

“I think it is in our best interest if you marry aemond and y/n soon, maybe in a moons time, there have been various slanderous whispers about their betrothal, and i want to put an end to it.” Alicent says and Aemonds heart picks up it's pace at that. “It's better if we call off the betrothal.” Aegon's voice booms across the chambers. “I do not think it is necessary anymore, not after we have won the war. Rhaenyra is dead, the blacks are dead, my daughter shouldn't need to marry her uncle anymore.” Aegon reasons and Aemond clicks his tongue, “It is my duty brother, to keep our valyrian blood pure, I do not mind marrying my niece.” Aemond replies and Aegon sighs. “You need not perform your duty anymore, she is my daughter, and I do not wish her to be subjected to your cruelty, little brother.”

“My cruelty? What of your whoring?” Aemond grits his teeth, and Alicent visibly flinches at the mention but Aegon only laughs, “I have put it past me dear brother. You however, still are as merciless.” and Aemond scoffs.

“I want to marry her.” Aemond says, tone final, staring daggers at Aegon, and he just laughed. “Alright, Alright, it was merely a suggestion.” Aegon backs down which makes Aemond calm down. “The matter is settled then, the wedding will take place when the moon turns.” Alicent says and everyone nods.

Another moon to finally bed you? Gods be damned, he cannot wait that long.

So he didn't.

He snuck into your chambers that night, through the secret tunnels, he had expected you to be asleep but you were awake, sitting on the chaise, reading a book of some sort, but you didn't hear him enter your chambers, so you jumped when you heard him speak.

“Hello, Niece.” you snapped your head to the direction of the voice and were surprised to find Aemond.

“Uncle? What are you doing here” you asked and he just stalked towards you, “Mhm, is it wrong to see my future wife?” the word wife rolling off his tongue with such delicacy. “No- you misunderstand- i merely meant that–”

“What are you reading?” he asks, cutting you off and coming even more closer to you, he took the book from your hand and you stood up, feeling vulnerable when you were just sitting.

“A romance novel huh?” he asks and you nod, he would love to go through the content to tease you, but he had no interest in wasting his time, he came here with a purpose.

“Dear niece, we are to be wed in a moons time.” he says and you look at him, “Understood, Uncle.” his gaze was too intense, so you looked down in submission of a sort.

He felt his cock stir at that, the way your puffy lips were pouty, eyes darted to the ground, like a good obedient and innocent wife.

Oh seven hells how he wanted to ruin you.

And so he would.

You were surprised when Aemond threw the book on the chair before grabbing you by your arms and pushing you in the direction of your bed, he slammed his lips against yours in hunger, swiping your bottom lip with his tongue, you were frozen in shock before it finally clicked and you used all your strength to push him off.

“We-we shouldn't, we are yet to be man and wife.” you breathe heavily, hoping he'd understand but he doesn't. He pushes you down unto the bed before getting on top of you, you panic, “U-uncle- please.” you were scared.

You knew how dishonourable it is to lose your maidenhead before marriage, it will ruin your reputation, it did not matter whether the person who took it was soon to be your husband. It is a sin, and you were extremely protective over it. After all, your grandmother raised you to be protective of it, saying it is a woman's honour that should not be given carelessly.

“P-please uncle! You said we were to be wed in a Moon's time, then you can have me! Please!” you beg and he smirks, “No can do, niece. No way in seven hells am I waiting that long, not after I have suffered so much because of you.” he says, and before you can say something, he grabs your throat, choking you, “Shut the fuck up. I do not want to hear your pleas.” he says meanly before squeezing your neck tight, making you see stars and leaving your head feeling light as the blood supply to your brain was being cut off due to his ministrations.

“P-pl-ple-” you try to choke out, tears welling in your eyes until he finally lets go of your throat, causing you to gasp for air, the air entering your lungs so quickly making it painful.

Aemond takes the dagger from its holder and starts cutting, tearing up your nightgown, the sound of clothes tearing filling the chambers as you pleaded him to get off of you, how your virtue was an important thing to preserve, how embarrassing it would be if you did not bleed on your wedding night, but all of that fell deaf to his ears, his only mission was to fuck you.

Soon enough, you are completely bare, you crossed your arms across your chest to protect your dignity but he pulled them apart, pinning them to your sides, “Do not hide yourself from me.” he said, voice low, emitting a slow growl. You sobbed.

“P-please, I promise I won't resist or hide myself from you- just wait until our wedding night, I am begging-” he shuts you up by pushing his lips against yours, his hands leave yours before he starts undressing himself, undoing the clasps on his clothing, he pulled apart to completely rid himself of his clothes, feeling to suffocated.

He was very fit, lean muscles coating his body, defining and toning his arms, chest and thighs, you felt yourself clench at the sight of him so bare, you were beginning to get aroused.

Aemond leans and places gentle kisses on your face, before trailing down your neck to lick and bite at them, you felt a burning sensation when he bit too hard, causing you to yelp, he pulled back and looked at the bite in satisfaction, which was now drawing blood. You whimpered pathetically.

You didn't like the feeling of ache between your thighs.

Aemond leaned down once again to take one breast into his mouth, suckling on it like a hungry babe, causing you to gasp, your breasts were extra sensitive considering you were near your moons blood, you gripped his hair and tried to pull him away but, he bit down harshly onto to your nipple making you tug harder at his hair for the pain to subside, however the more you tried pulling him off, the harder his bit and latched on, the other hand painfully dug into the flesh of your other breast, nails biting through the skin, so you removed your grip on his hair, and only then did he stop his inflictions of pain on your tits, beginning to suckle at your nipple in a pleasurable way,

Your hand reflexively went to his hair again, but this time instead of trying to pull him, you held him there like that, arching your back when you felt his warm tongue tickle the bud, shoving more of your breast into his mouth, he hummed in satisfaction before he pulled away with a wet pop, to continue the same thing on your other breast.

It was sensual, it was so slow, and you were getting aroused by the minute but your fear of committing a grave sin still plagued your mind.

“A-aemond-” you say his name making him groan and pull away to look at you, “Gods, when you say my name like that- it makes me want to ruin you so fucking hard.” he confesses and you gulp, his hands part your thighs, exposing your core to him.

You try to clench them shut in reflex but he holds them apart, visibly drawn by it, you felt the cool air hit your clit making you shiver, he trails his hand down your inner thigh before rubbing small circles there, teasing you.

You whine, the ache beginning to get even more stronger, making you buck your hips, hoping his hand grazes over the sensitive part, but he just chuckles, “Greedy are we? What happened to waiting till marriage?” he mocks you and you fight back the tears of shame, he then presses his fingers right onto your core, parting the flesh and caressing your clit, you twitch at the foreign sensation.

His other hand leaves your thigh as well, and he uses both of his thumbs to hold the flesh covering your core apart before he leans down and sucks on your pearl, making you arch your back in pleasure, his tongue flickers over your bud constantly, sending sparks of pleasure.

You were shocked when he did that, how can someone put their mouth over there?

Your hips start to move on their own, trying to keep up with his rhythm, he groans at your attempts and pulls away, you whine at the lack of warmth, “Be still.” he says and descends onto your clit again, and you try really hard to be still but you couldn't help it, you grip his hair, shoving his face into your cunt to the point he was suffocating but it didn't matter to him, this would be the best way to die according to him.

You feel something creeping up at your core, a itch that keeps plaguing you, a certain type of string tightening constantly as he continued his actions, you were confused until you were snapped out of your own confusion by an overwhelming feeling of pleasure hitting your body, causing you to moan loudly into the chambers. Aemond drinks up your release like a dehydrated man before pulling away and looking at your face, he chuckles when he finds you looking confused and dazed, eyes teary, wondering what the feeling was.

“It's called a peak, my love, was it your first time?” he answers, staring at your face and you tilted your head in confusion.

Women can peak?

You knew how the act is performed, the cock goes into the cunt, and you're supposed to lay there taking it as your husband impregnates you. It was taught to you by your grandmother alicent, it was supposed to hurt, not feel intimate. If you're lucky, you'd get a few kisses on your face and neck.

But what aemond did was so foreign, you didn't know you could experience sexual pleasure like this.

“Y-yes, but i- i didn't know.” you blush while saying it, you don't need to finish the sentence before aemond caught on and Aemond almost moaned at the thought that you didn't know anything, that you probably thought that sexual pleasure can only be felt by a man.

Oh how he was going to show you all the ways.

Oh how he was going to corrupt you.

He smirked.

You looked up at him, the tears from the orgasm threatening to fall, and oh gods how that made him want to be extremely cruel, he wanted to ruin you. It set off his blood thirst, something he would only feel while fighting during battles, when he burnt the riverlands with vhagar, when he took the life of his own uncle, when he slaughtered the strong house watching as the blood coats the ground, the screams of men, women and children alike. He hadn't felt that in a while considering the war was long over.

And so he would.

His eyes trail over to the dagger that laid forgotten on the bed, and he reached out for it, changing his grip and pointing the blade at the direction of your body, you look at him in what seemed like fear but he didn't care, he brought the blade down gently, and then pressed it against your skin, piercing through the skin. You winced at the burning sensation, he removed the blade and watched as beads of blood poured out, he leaned down and licked it all up, the iron tasting sweet to him.

You whimpered in pain, feeling the twinge, when the wound was met with his saliva, causing an even more burning sensation to plague at your skin.

He pulled back and watched as the blood smeared onto the surrounding skin, the wound already trying to close up. He looked at your pained expression and decided that he wouldn't be that cruel and scar your body as much as he would've loved to since it was your first time with him, he needed to leave a good impression after all. When you're truly his wife, he'd ruin so much.

He watched as the tears fell down your face, he licked them up before pressing gentle kisses to your eyes. “Shh.. It's okay, I won't do more.” he says and you whimper, trusting him.

He pulls back and grabs his hard leaking cock. The tip all flushed pink, it looked so painful.

It was painful, he was so fucking hard the entire time, he was trying to savour everything before he fully went in, but he realised he had no such patience for that.

He lined it against your cunt, and slid his cock up and down, coating him in your juice before he caught the tight hole which wouldn't open at all, and he realised he needed to prepare more for you to be able to take him.

So he replaced his cock with his fingers, shoving one inside you slowly, feeling all the ridges of your inner walls, wishing it was his cock that was inside you.

He started pumping in and out, curling his fingers from time to time to graze over the rough part located inside you, and you felt your stomach tightening again, and before you could reach your peak, Aemond pulled his fingers out. “H-huh?” you looked at him confused and he smiled meanly before shoving his fingers once again, and making you come to the edge but never topple over it, pulling out every time you were so close. It made you frustrated.

He decided you were relaxed enough to take his cock, so he replaced his fingers with his cock, pushing the tip inside, making you grip your bedsheets underneath tightly.

He wanted to go slow, let you adjust to him, but it was way too much, he finally got to be inside you after what felt like way too long, these past few years he always dreamt of this moment, so he lost control and slammed himself fully inside you cruelly, pushing to the hilt, making you scream in pain, which he shushed you by cooing you and caressing your cheek.

Your legs twitched visibly, he pulled back, thinking he was taking his cock out, you relaxed but then he slammed into you, causing you yelp and then he started pulling and pushing over and over again, the pace messy at the first because your walls were still trying to adjust to him, sometimes even pushing him out.

But then as the continued thrusting, the pain slowly went away and you felt pleasure beginning to rise, causing you to relax around, and he moaned in pleasure when he felt you loosen up around him, not holding his cock in a tight grip that made it impossible to move without hurting you.

He fastened his pace, unable to hold himself back, he fucked into you brutally, breaking your maidenhead, he watched the sight of your maiden blood coating his dick leaking onto the white sheets below, and he moaned your name.

The chamber was filled with lewd noises, wet slapping sounds as his hips rammed against yours, his balls slapping at your ass as he thrusted in and out, sweat coating his eyebrow, he was grunting loudly, he wasn't usually a vocal person, but with you? you bought out the worst in him.

He felt his peak beginning to come, but he wanted you to peak first, so his hand went over to your clit and rubbed small circles over it, and the pleasure intensified for you, you peaked extremely hard, wet fluid gushing out of you, all because of the multiple denied orgasms finally catching up to you.

Aemond moaned as he watched your juice coating his cock, and he was reaching his peak too, “Fuck- fuck- going to fill you up, with my seed, watching you grow round with my child in your belly.” he babbled and reached his peak, his cock twitching inside you, shooting ropes after ropes of cum, coating your walls.

He didn't pull out, staying inside, making sure his seed didn't spill, he began to soften inside you.

He pulled and held you close to him, before he propped down on your bed, pulling you on top of him, his cock slipping from inside you at that, you laid on top of him, head on his chest as you listened to his fast heartbeat, it was relaxing for an odd reason.

He grabbed the sheets and threw them over both of you, covering you and himself and then slowly drifting off to sleep.

The maid couldn't have picked the worst time to enter the chamber in the morning, she usually entered without knocking since you and her were close, but she gasped when she found you stop aemond cuddled and then noticed the blood on the sheets, it didn't take a genius to figure out what went on, and she quickly reported it to the dowager queen.

Enraged was an understatement. Alicent was extremely disappointed, barging into the room, by then aemond had already put on his breeches and he was confused when he saw her, then he figured it out.

You woke up, gripping the sheets tightly to your chest as you watched your grandmother yell at her son, your uncle.

And just then your father barged in, along with your mother, she quickly rushed over to you to check if you were alright and looked at her younger brother in disappointment.

Aegon had never been angry like that in his life, he went straight for Aemond, tackling him to the ground, trying to hit him, “You ruined her! Couldn't your ass wait until the wedding? What was it that made you so impatient?” Aegon yelled at his brother, and Aemond dodged every hit Aegon threw his way.

“Fucking CUNT!” He was mad, and one of hits finally landed on Aemond, punching him right in the face.

“Father! No! Please.” you yelled, but he didn't listen and that's when you started sobbing loudly, which made him immediately halt and rush over to you. Aemond spit the blood that coated his mouth on the ground and got up.

“My dear.” Aegon looked at you sadly, noticing all the cruelty Aemond left on your body.

“The wedding is to be held in a week.” Alicent's voice booms the chambers

“Mother you cannot be serious! He-” the king tried to reason with her, but she looked at him with a stern expression and he backed down, he was the king yes, but he knew he would never stand a chance against his own mother.

Aemond simply smirked, accomplishing what he had wanted, Aegon glared at him.

“Please, I want to be alone.” you say and everyone looks at you, you were extremely tired and you didn't want this hassle.

The matter came to an end like that, you watched everyone leave reluctantly, except Aemond, you looked at Aemond, waiting for him to leave, but instead he sat down next to you and made himself comfortable in your presence.

Aegon grit his teeth, turning around to storm into the room but Alicent and Helaena held him back, and you didn't say anything else, but leaned your head on Aemonds shoulder.

That told everyone what you wanted and they soon left, you allowed yourself to get comfortable in his presence. Slowly falling asleep.

“My sweet girl.” you heard him coo before the sleep finally pulled you under.

[illyrianbrat]

Prisoner (Part 1)

Set: Middle of season 1 to beginning of season 2

Pairing: (kind of) Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon female!reader, (platonic) overprotective!Jacaerys Velaryon x Velaryon female!reader

Warnings: typical westori violence, curse words/spoilers for both seasons but especially season 2, everyone being absolutely stupid, conversations about characters that were 💀, major character death, talks of arranged marriage, being made prisoner, bruises, scrapes, minor talk about weight and not eating

Plot: One of Viserys Targaryen’s final wishes was to see them married. To please him, Rhaenyra allowed her daughter to stay in the Red Keep alone, not knowing it would be a terrible mistake.

"Luke, what's wrong?" You asked, a sense of dread washing over your body.

Your brother sat there, looking panicked, twiddling his fingers. "Vaemond Velaryon has questioned my legitimacy… Mother said we're going to King’s Landing."

"It’ll be alright," you assured him, lightly squeezing his hands. "This matter will be settled in front of the court and nothing will come of it."

Lucerys did not believe your words. All his insecurities about his parentage resurfaced. He had tried to suppress them because his siblings never treated it like an issue; on the contrary, you seemed proud.

"What are you two doing?" Jace walked into the sitting area and plopped down beside his sister.

You scoffed, playfully pushing him away. "There are other places to sit, Jace."

"It all seems occupied to me," he laughed, but it quickly died down when he sensed the tension in the room. "What is it?"

Luke stared at the ground, not wanting to repeat it. You glanced at Jace with a frown and gave a short nod, making him sigh.

Sniffles could be heard across the room.

Rhaenyra stood in the middle of her chambers, holding a piece of parchment that had arrived by raven. Her eyes, reddened and swollen, stared at the floor, tears slowly falling down her cheeks.

You and Jace wept silently, while Luke sat on the floor, trying to process the news.

Harwin Strong had died. Their father was gone.

Rhaenyra had revealed the truth after Harwin and Lionel left for Harrenhal. You and your siblings had suspicions but were never brave enough to ask her directly. Jacaerys was the one who finally did it after they left the Red Keep.

In hindsight, it all made sense: the way Harwin visited them as often as he could, all the gifts and flowers, the affection he showered on them, even the training sessions. Even joining them to get a dragon egg for Joffrey…

… It was also clear to them that Laenor knew and agreed with the situation.

The three of them understood how dangerous this secret was. If others found out that Laenor was not their father, they would be branded as bastards, and their mother's claim to the Iron Throne would vanish.

After Laena’s funeral and Laenor’s death, you and Jace had a conversation about everything.

Viserys had protected them that night. He could have easily told everyone the truth, but he did not. Instead, he chose to threaten anyone who would dare question their parentage, including his wife and his sons.

You vowed to protect each other and your family. You knew that someday, someone would challenge their claim to Driftmark. Corlys always wanted Luke to be Lord of the Tides, but Luke did not want it. He declined the offer multiple times, content to remain a prince if it meant his family was still alive.

---

The Red Keep felt strange, unfamiliar.

Seven-pointed stars hung on the walls, while the House Targaryen symbols and tapestries had disappeared. You could tell that Daemon and your mother were not happy about these changes.

As Daemon and Rhaenyra went to see the King, you and Luke followed Jace to the courtyard. He was reminiscing about childhood antics.

"Everything will go in our favor," you promised Luke, noticing his worried expression. "Mother will not let Vaemond get away with this."

"No one would question me being heir to Driftmark if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong."

"Lucerys!" You softly reprimanded him.

"It doesn't matter what they think," Jace added.

You were about to speak when gasps and applause erupted nearby. As you walked together towards the commotion, Jace held your hand, prepared for anything.

It was Ser Criston Cole and their uncle Aemond. They had not seen them in six years, since the incident at Driftmark. Lucerys tensed, noticing Aemond's eyepatch.

"Nephews, niece… have you come to train?" Aemond asked.

"I have," you announced, stepping forward. Jace's eyes widened as he watched you pick up a sword.

Aemond, his face a mask of confidence, addressed you with a slight smirk. "Ready to learn, niece?"

You replied defiantly, "Let's see what you can teach me, uncle."

Their swords clashed, the sound ringing out across the courtyard. Aemond's initial strikes were powerful and precise, but you met them with equal force and skill.

Jace, tense and protective, clenched his fists. "She shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, stepping forward as if to intervene. Luke quickly grabbed his wrist, holding him back.

"She can handle herself," Luke insisted, though his eyes never left the duel, also scared for his sister.

You and Aemond moved with speed and precision. The intensity of the fight increased, and the crowd's murmurs grew louder. It was no longer a mere training session, Aemond wanted you to suffer.

His smirk faded, replaced by a look of concentration and annoyance. Your determination was shining through, every move demonstrating your skill and strength. As you continued, it became clear that neither had the advantage.

Finally, Criston Cole had enough and carefully stepped in the middle to stop it. You both stepped back, breathing heavily. The courtyard fell silent.

Aemond nodded, lowering his sword. "Well fought, niece."

You, equally breathless, feeling proud of yourself and the outcome. "Thank you, uncle."

Jace, still held back by Luke, relaxed and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"See? She's alright," Luke whispered.

Jace scoffed, growing angrier by the second. You were grinning as you received praise from the crowd, but your smile faded when you turned to see your brothers. Jace held your gaze, silently letting you know of his displeasure.

As everyone left the courtyard to head towards the Throne Room, you approached them. "What did you think?" you wondered shyly, even though you knew what the answer would be.

"It was brilliant," Luke admitted. "I knew Daemon was overseeing your training, but I didn't expect this."

"And you?" You asked Jace directly. He clenched his jaw.

"I thought it was foolish, exposing yourself that way and with him, of all people." You lowered her head, while Luke sighed. "Let's go. Mother is probably waiting for us."

---

You stood between Daemon and Jace in the Throne Room. Jace had briefly told Daemon what had happened outside. Although proud that you could hold her own against Aemond, Daemon did not want to let you out of his sight for fear you would do something like that again.

"You may run your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides," Vaemond Velaryon ranted. "And gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this..."

"Say it," Daemon dared.

Vaemond smirked. "Her children are bastards! And she and her daughter are whores."

"I… will have your tongue for that," King Viserys said, standing up from the Iron Throne.

Jacaerys quickly wrapped his arms around you, holding your face against his chest so you wouldn't witness what was about to happen.

In the blink of an eye, Daemon stood behind him and sliced his head in half. The court gasped at the sight. "He can keep his tongue."

"Disarm him!" Otto Hightower ordered.

"No need," Daemon said, returning to his family's side. You were shaking. Even though you hadn't seen it, the noise alone would haunt your dreams. On the other side of the room, Aemond’s attention was on you. On how your bastard brother held you close, to protect you from the bloody sight.

Part 2

[xmalereader]

Viktor Targaryen x Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

SUMMARY: An AU regarding The house of dragons and arcane, Viktor is the second born child of King Targaryen and king to be, but Viktor doesn’t want the iron throne, nor does he want to stay in Dragonstone.

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Fluff, family history, no incest, sibling bonding, slight sexism and misogyny, Viktor is a good brother, OC dragon name, high valyrian, Viktors mother, mentions of Jayce, Piltover is a growing kingdom, short interaction with reader, non accurate GOT and HOTD lore.

WC: 2.0K

NOTES: I don’t know SHIT about game of throne or house of dragons 😅 but based on the little research I did and very few random episodes hopefully I am able to make this story make sense. It won’t really fit within the GOT universe so don’t judge me for the changes I will be making! But I just had to write this because Viktor just reminded me of the Targaryens due to the white hair when he was inside the arcane.

Viktor Targaryen was the second born child of King Targaryen, brother to Rhaenyra Targaryen. Only difference about him was that both siblings had a different mother, same father. Viktors mother was a commoner, a low life, as one would say and yet, she found a way to capture the kings heart. Rheanyra wasn’t too happy about her fathers marriage thinking that the women was only seducing her father in order to get her way only to realize that she was a very kind hearted women who wanted nothing to do with the Iron Throne.

When she fell pregnant with Rheanyra’s new baby brother she at first didn’t like the idea of having a brother, knowing that he would be the one to take over the throne and not her. Just as her father had promised her she knew that the promise would be broken the minute her brother would be born, being granted approval as the new future king.

Only Viktor never wanted the crown.

When Viktor got older he would remember hearing the murmurs of the council discussing on who would take over the throne after his father passes. Many in the council wanted Viktor to take over, but even he knew he wouldn’t be a proper king. His sister was perfect for the throne, he’s seen the way people bend to the knee for her, even their dragons bowed to her. She was the rightful heir, not him.

The first time the council called for him to take the throne he refused. It didn’t matter if he was the first born son, the crown wasn’t his and he wouldn’t take it away from someone who it did belong to. Things didn’t get better for Viktor, his father continued to grow ill and his own mother passed from the grey mist, air that poisoned her lungs until she could no longer breath anymore.

The council continued to push him to accept the crown and each time he rejected it.

Rhaenyra had noticed her brothers anger and was the one to approach him about it. Finding him out on the terrace where he overlooked their people, a frown on his face as the moonlight shined down upon them.

“You’re angry.”

He’s quiet when hearing her words.

Rhaenyra lets out a deep sigh through her nose. The two already knew where this was going, no matter how hard she tried the throne would never be given to her all because she was a women. A women that couldn’t lead a kingdom to peace, but Viktor knows that she can. He’s seen it in her.

“The council wants me to claim the iron throne. No matter how many times I refuse they will never stop.” Viktor finally says and looks over his shoulder to find his sister, looking at him with an upset expression of her own.

“They won’t stop until you sit on that throne.”

“I know that.”

Viktor never liked the idea of being a ruler. Yes, he wanted to help humanity without being needed anything in return. If he could do that he would, but the council would refuse him and expect him to follow along the traditions, keeping everything in balance for future generations.

His own father only spoke to the people whenever they entered their castle for help, he was never out in the streets and facing the reality of their suffering. Viktor had seen it, he had seen the terrible conditions his people lived in and no matter how much he wanted to help them he wouldn’t be able to without claiming the throne which would restrict him from doing things his own way.

Which is why he believes his own sister could be a better ruler then him. She would follow the traditions while also finding a way to help their people in her own ways.

“You should be on that throne, not me.” Viktor suddenly says, catching Rhaenyra by surprise as she approached him, standing by his side. His eyes locking with hers. “You’re the rightful heir to the iron throne, they may not see it but I do.” He’s heard the councils murmurs and distaste about the idea of her being the one to take over when both he and his father knew that she was the rightful one.

“You know they won’t allow it.”

“You’re right, they won’t.” He gentle takes her hand into his gloved one. “If I’m not here.” He sees the look of disbelief in his sisters eyes, he has thought about this for a very long time. The only way he’d be free from the crown is if he left, disappeared from this place that he once called home.

“You can’t leave, you’re my brother.”

“A brother who is holding their sister back from claiming what is rightfully theirs.”

Both siblings have grown close throughout the years that there were times where they were inseparable always attached to the hip and helping each other out. He was there when his sister first bared a child, the fear in her eyes when she refused help from the maids, afraid of facing a similar outcome as her mother. He was always there for her just as she was for him the day he lost his mother, watching as they tossed her coffin into the sea where the ocean waters claimed her as theirs.

But now, Viktor has to be the one to make the hard choices.

Rhaenyra is at lose for words, unable to say anything. She can see it in her brothers eyes that there is no way in convincing him to stay. So, she gives him a silent goodbye. Her forehead is pressed against his the two taking in their final moment together before Viktor pulls away first, giving her a sad smile.

“ēva īlon rhaenagon arlī.”

And with that final goodbye he leaves his sister.

Escaping into the dead of night he mounts his dragon, Xanthus, and takes off. Disappearing from his family line and being known as the ‘The Lost Child’.

Viktor had no idea where he was even going, he had no plan nor did he know anyone that he can ask for assistance. He couldn’t stay where his name was known nor could he be close to his own home.

So, Xanthus flew them out far.

Far from home and across the sea to a whole new world that Viktor didn’t know existed. Viktor didn’t think that he’d find a place meant for him until he stumbled upon an island called Piltover. It was rather small, but decent. The people there lived comfortably, but of course they had a council of their own and when Viktor first made an appearance with his dragon the place grew in panic, bells ringing in alert from his presence and causing the whole town to go into lockdown.

When Xanthus lands near the bridge that connected two different towns he was greeted with soldier wielding their weapons at him. The threat wasn’t taken lightly by Xanthus the large golden dragon ready to strike them down with a simple command that comes from his rider only it never came.

It wasn’t until a short man makes his way through the crowd of soldiers, hands behind his back as he stares up at Viktor and Xanthus. The man had a brightness in his eyes that somewhat eased Viktor.

“Magnificent beast.” The man didn’t seem scared of Xanthus which caught Viktor by surprise. Everyone back at home worshipped their dragons like gods, knowing how dangerous and powerful they can be and how impossible it was to kill a dragon.

The large beast releases a hiss towards the man. “Gīda.” He placed a hand on the dragons neck, providing soothing rubs as he calms the dragon down from doing anything harsh.

“Magnificent.” He hears the man repeat in awe which has Viktor chuckling, letting go of the reigns and sliding off his dragon who stood by him in a protective way, ready to attack in case anything were to happen to him. “Do you say that a lot?” Viktor asks with an arched brow which has the man chuckling a smile on his face.

“Only when I see something very interesting.”

Viktor can only smile at the mans cheerfulness finding it quiet odd since he’s never been around someone like him before. That was the first time he met Heimerdinger, head of the council of Piltover. When Viktor first met the council he was surprised by how many women were involved, something he’s never seen back at Dragonstone. They held their heads up high and spoke with confidence, intimidation radiating off of them when asking him where he came from and why he was here.

At first he didn’t know if providing his family name was a good idea, afraid of them alerting his family, but when they heard the name ‘Targaryen’ it was unknown to them. A sense of relief washed over Viktor and for the first time ever he felt free from the bonds that his family name carried.

Viktor was lucky enough to stay, getting the councils approval as long as he maintained his dragon from causing them any trouble. Which then resulted into Viktor finding them a home for themselves. Xanthus hated cramped spaces and never stayed underground like he did back at Dragonstone he always remained above ground where he knew he could easily defend himself without feeling trapped like his brothers and sisters did.

The time he spent in Piltover resulted into him learning about their history and becoming Heimerdingers pupil, learning from the shorter man and providing his own assistance. He’s seen what Piltover is doing to advance into their future, providing their people easier ways to travel and transport goods which Viktor helped with.

Viktor doesn’t know how long he spent living in Piltover that with time he befriend a man named Jayce who wanted to do so much for the future. Not only had he met Jayce, but he had also met a young man who worked alongside the council. He was the assistant to Council women Merdarda he had seen him around but never really spoke to him until he caught him once with Xanthus.

He usually checked up on his dragon, caring for him ever since he was a hatchling and tightening their bond everyday only to be surprised when Xanthus allows another human to approach him so easily. Most dragons wouldn’t listen to anyone unless its a Targaryen member and to see this with his own eyes made him rethink his families history.

“He likes you.”

The man gasps when hearing Viktor, pulling his hand away from the dragons scaly neck. Xanthus lets out a small rumble in the back of his throat, shifting to lie his head on the grass below him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

Viktor shakes his head. “It’s alright, he usually doesn’t allow anyone to approach him unless its me. It caught me by surprise that he allowed anyone else besides me to touch him.” His own gloved hand trails down the dragons neck, stepping closer to the man who swallows nervously.

“I was curious.”

“Your curiosity can get you hurt,” His eyes trail from Xanthus to the assistant. “Or killed.”

“I have a strange habit of approaching dangerous things without thinking twice.” His words causes Viktor to chuckle, blue eyes locking with the mans, his hand not leaving Xanthus neck it always brought him a sense of comfort.

“You’re Merdard’s assistant?”

The man gives a cocky grin. “I am.” He responds back. “You must be Heimerdingers?”

Viktors lip twitch into a smile when hearing his question being thrown back at him.

“I am.” He confirms his words which has the other nodding along. A silence falls between them before the other cuts it first.

“I never got your name.”

The Targaryen turns to look at him. “It’s Viktor.”

[the-loststone]

HotD Team Green Defense

The amount of people who fail to grasp Team Green's perspective is honestly staggering to me. So many people are Team Black, maybe out of some (misplaced) belief that they are being feminists and advocating for female power, or something like that, and choose to ignore the very legitimate worries and motivations of Team Green. Admittedly, the show has gone out of it's way to villainize Team Green as much as possible, while victimizing Team Black, and deviating from the source material for this narrative. (I would tell them to be suspicious when showrunners do that because they did the same thing to Daenerys in GoT and everyone was surprised when she turned around and burned a city down in a rushed ending because the show never properly developed her arc.) Nevertheless, despite their efforts to make Team Green the less appealing side, if I had to compare motivations, Team Black is the more villainous.

So many people dismiss the fact that for Rhaenyra to secure her throne, she would have to kill her siblings. They write it off as paranoia of Alicent, or ambitions of her and Otto, that they are making excuses for Aegon to be made king instead of Rhaenyra. But that's just not true. These are very real likelihoods. Even if Aegon did not seek the throne, or he and his brothers decided to gracefully allow the succession to pass to Rhaenyra, it would never be peaceful. Just look at Rhaenys and how Corlys is still bitter and Viserys has been worried that they may come after him since she has a right to the throne. That's one of the main benefits in having Rhaenyra marry Ser Laenor was to join their claims. Or look at how worried everyone was of Daemon, and how he may seize power after Viserys. The only thing keeping him alive was his brother's love for him, the fact that their house was dwindling, and no one was fighting on his behalf over Viserys. So if there is every another claimant, it would be a great worry that the side in power may be kicked off by another claimant. And Aegon and his brothers are men, and just by virtue of having dicks, they have a better claim to the throne. All laws, precedent, and cultures in Westeros have male heirs before female heirs. The king's word does not change that. And note that the King only made Rhaenyra his heir over his brother. So technically, the King said "all my children first, including my daughter, then my brother." (Something already controversial because if it was accepted before, Rhaenys would be Queen and he would be nothing). But he never again made a statement for the lords after his sons births. He never reinforced Rhaenyra's succession as his heir outside the privacy of their own quarters. Alicent even said, let the lords come and decide, and make vows, and he and Rhaenyra reject it because they worried the Lords would choose Aegon.

Rhaenyra knows, to inherit without rebellions every few years from lords who are unhappy with her and want to supplant her with her brothers, she would have to kill her brothers and make sure there are no people who can contest her right to inherit.

And this is just Rhaenyra's succession. Now add in the fact that she's claiming illegitimate children as her heirs. Very obvious illegitimate children. Even if Rhaenyra managed to successfully inherit with no push back from anyone, and no one wanted to supplant her with her brothers so she didn't have to kill them then... well guess what, she'll have to kill them to secure her son's ascension to the throne. (And if she won't then Daemon certainly would). And then, even if she does kill all the Greens, then there's the issue of her legitimate children vs. her illegitimate children. Even if the kids grew up to love each other, someone may say, well the first three shouldn't inherit, let's put the legitimate ones on the throne. And then you have a completely different succession crisis.

Viserys' actions may seem to the viewers as promoting girl power and feminism, but that's not what's happening. He's being an abusive, neglectful shit. He's deliberately putting the rest of his children's lives in jeopardy, and even the Strong grandchildren he claims to love, because by keeping them in the succession despite their obvious illegitimacy invites people to contest that. And that's not to say he couldn't have taken steps to remedy this. He could have changed the rules so that succession passes to the eldest child, regardless of gender. But he didn't. He could have acknowledged that his grandchildren were illegitimate and forgiven it and legitimized them as Targaryens, but he didn't (conveniently usurping Valeryons - and people may argue that Baela/ Rhaena can still rule being married to Jace/Luke, but that's not the same as being able to rule in your own right, otherwise, why not take the offer for Rhaenyra to marry Aegon).

But since he didn't do any of these things, the only way to stop the Dance would have been for him to make Aegon his successor. Something that everyone would have been relieved by because it would have prevented war. But he didn't. And so, Alicent has to fight to keep her kids alive. The Greens have to push their claim to survive. Whereas, had Rhaenyra graciously backed off her claim, saying that yes, she had 3 brothers, and while they were younger, the laws and precedent are in their corner to inherit, then she would have lived. People wouldn't have fought for her claim if she hadn't pushed it. Nor would they fight for an illegitimate heir.

But some may say... Well Rhaenyra has more supporters. She does. She has the Velaryons and countless other houses backing her. So do the Greens. (the Greens have the wealthiest houses). But once it becomes a fight to throne, it's less about who has the right, and more about who can offer you the most. Notice the Starks and the Baratheons agree to fight because they'll get a wedding out of it (and the Starks because they'll have somewhere to send people during their current famine). The Vale because of the blood ties. The Lannisters because of past insults. Once it's decided to be a fight, it's never about who actually has a right to the throne, it becomes about who can give you the most so you can help them win it.

And this is what it really comes down to. Rhaenyra had a choice. She can back off, and her family can survive. Her brothers can live. Her sons will live. Or she can inherit, and her brothers can die. And she is perfectly willing for her brothers to die. And some may say that that's a very jaded view to take on Rhaenyra and she would never kill her family if she could help it... but it would be out of her hands. It would be necessary to protect her son's right to inherit and to keep away possible rebellions.

And you know, fine, that's okay. She wants to fight for the throne, more power to her. She can go after the throne and kill her brothers. But I don't think it's right that people say that she's the aggrieved party. She's not. She's the aggressor.

And that is why I'm team Green. Because Alicent is right. Just by living and breathing, Aegon and his brothers are threats to Rhaenyra. And this would have happened no matter who Viserys married. Sure people can be upset that Alicent married her bffs dad (something that only happens in the show because in the books, Alicent is 10 years older than Rhaenyra and they weren't close), but that doesn't mean her children should die because Rhaenyra is the preferred child. That doesn't mean the realm should be thrown into war because Alicent 'seduced' a widow. (And I say that with heavy sarcasm because Viserys is a grown ass man.)

And then there's the argument of who's the better house because of blood purity. It's a ridiculous argument and I'm honestly annoyed by people who are Targaryen purists and believe in the whole, dragon supremacy. Hightower is badass house. A lot of people don't realize that they've been around since The Wall and Winterfell were built (Bran the Builder built Hightower, commissioned by the Lord / King of Hightower). They've been around since before Targaryen's rode dragons. So spare me the ridiculous arguments of who's got the most Targaryen blood. If anything, Team Green is more Westerosi, you know, the country they are trying to rule.

In the end, the show will do what it does best, and disappoint you. Either they'll continue pushing this narrative of girl-boss queen and fail to show the complexity of the political situation that result from Rhaenyra's decisions. Or they might stick to the book and have a complex issue actually displayed and show both Aegon and Rhaenyra's descent into madness.

There are more issues one could delve into. Like the fact that Rhaenyra married Daemon. That either Corlys Velaryon has so much unhinged ambition that he's ignored deaths in his house to side with those who have literally murdered his family (cough cough Vaemond and Laenor) (and the whole Laenor excuse in the show makes no sense because no way in hell are Rhaenyra and Daemon risking that he's ever found and that their kids are declared bastards; it is much cleaner for them to do it like they did in the books and kill him) or there will be serious repercussions from the deaths of Velaryons and continued discussion of the succession of Driftmark/High Tide.

But that's the main summary of my thoughts. 👍

If you made it to the end of my rant. Thank you.

[queenvhagar]

At Driftmark, Jacaerys and Lucerys attack Aemond with a knife not out of a need for self-defense, like many will argue. Instead, Jacaerys draws the blade and Lucerys uses it to slash Aemond's eye out because of their desire for retribution for what Aemond said about them and their real father during the fight. It was wanting to hurt Aemond, not an immediate need to survive, that led to the blade being drawn and used on Aemond's face and eye specifically.

After claiming the world's largest living dragon, following years of being mocked for not being a dragonrider and continually risking his life to get a dragon, Aemond comes back to the castle pretty confident in himself. Before he gets to his room, a group of other four children, including two boys who made fun of him in the past, stop him. The girls physically attack him first, for having claimed Vhagar and for his confident, unbothered response to their words. After defending himself from these initial attacks, the boys join in. Even though he's a couple of years older than the other children, he is overcome by four people attacking him at once. At one point, he is pushed to the ground and relentlessly kicked and punched by all four children at once. Eventually managing to push the attackers back, Aemond finds and raises a rock, posturing that he will use it to defend against further attacks, and to hurt the boys back he mocks the boys for their true parentage and the recent death of their actual father, saying they would one day "die screaming in flames" like their father did (an objectively terrible thing to say, to be sure). However, once he realizes Lucerys doesn't know his true parentage, Aemond lowers the rock that he has held high.

It is at this point - rock lowered, bastard named - that Jacaerys pulls the blade that he brought with him. Despite Aemond lowering the rock and backing off, Jacaerys is angry, and he wants to hurt Aemond for what he said. In response to the drawn blade, Aemond knocks Lucerys back with his left hand and uses then uses the rock in his right hand to incapacitate Jacaerys and stop him from using the knife against him.

But Aemond is not dumb - in fact, in his first two episodes he has demonstrated that he has the most awareness of all the kids. Aemond shows that he understands the political advantage of Targaryens marrying sibling to sibling, the duty a prince has to serve the realm, and the importance of being a dragonrider as a Targaryen. He understood the potentially deadly, yet infinitely rewarding if successful, opportunity presented to him when he heard Vhagar, the dragon his grandfather claimed, calling out from the beach and nobody was there to stop him from going to her. Aemond has also doubtlessly heard his mother talk about their family's precarious political position, and he's observed the favoritism his father the king shows to his eldest daughter, the named heir to the throne. Aemond understands that there would be severe consequences for him (and potentially his family) if any serious harm were to come to any of Rhaenyra's own, so while he fights to incapacitate his attackers in the fight, Aemond knows that he cannot use the rock or any other weapon to seriously harm or disable Rhaenyra's sons even if he wanted to. So he uses the rock to knock down his armed assailant after a blade is drawn against him, and then he raises it a final time in question. Are they going to come at him again? If he were fighting to truly hurt, disfigure, or kill the boys out of anger or contempt at their parentage, Aemond could have pressed the attack immediately and used the rock against the boys. But at this point Aemond is only still fighting because the attacks keep coming at him. Instead, he stays where he is and raises the rock as a warning: come at me again and I will use this to fend you off. Having just become Vhagar's new rider, he already feels that he has won against the other children. He is unbeatable - there is no need for him to viciously attack the children while they're down to show that he has won the fight against them. He is older, he has a dragon, and he has withstood all of their attacks. At this moment, Aemond is waiting for their next move, whatever it may be.

If Rhaenyra's sons had yielded and stopped coming at Aemond at this point or any point before it, the fight would be done. Now, rock lowered, Aemond standing still, there is no immediate need for self-defense. Any further attack against Aemond could not be considered the boys defending themselves. But Jacaerys and Lucerys don't feel the need to defend their lives against a perceived imminent mortal threat. At this moment, they want to get back at Aemond. For claiming Vhagar. For hitting the girls back when they first came at him. For the blows Aemond landed back against them. And above all, for naming them as illegitimate and mocking their true father's death. They want to win this fight, and they want Aemond to hurt for what he said and did. That's the real reason Jacaerys draws the blade, and that's the real reason they do what they do next.

So it is then that the boys resume their attack, with Jacaerys throwing the sand at Aemond's eyes to disorient him and Lucerys grabbing the knife and slashing Aemond right across his eye. Not in the leg or the arm, which might have prevented him from fighting back again and ostensibly saved them from Aemond using a rock against them. No, Lucerys grabs the knife and slices up and across the entire side of Aemond's face, cutting his eye in the process. The goal of this attack is to maim and injure Aemond, not to save themselves from further harm by him.

And what is the fallout from this event? Aemond sees just how much danger his family is in when it comes to his father's preference for his eldest daughter and his eldest sister's willingness to defend her own at all costs. He sees his eldest sister, the heir to the throne, offer for him to be tortured so he would incriminate his own mother and have her punished for talking in private about the crimes that his elder sister has done and is doing. He sees his father the king turn on him and rage against Aemond, his mother, and his brother in front of the entire court about something everyone knows to be true but will not speak out loud. He sees that not only are his sister and her sons not the least bit regretful or apologetic for the serious harm and disability their own family member faces because of their actions, even years later, but also that absolutely no consequences will be felt by his attackers ever for their role in the confrontation because the truth of his eldest sister's crimes was mentioned by Aemond during the fight and that, in their eyes, justifies her sons deciding to use a knife to disfigure him in retribution. Because the king will support his eldest sister and her sons above all else, they can do whatever they want and get away with it, no matter who gets hurt in the process, because the king is weak and will not hold his daughter to any accountability for anything she or her children decide to do.

It's of course this pivotal moment all of the Greens but especially Aemond realize that his and his family's ultimate survival in the impending succession crisis is at the hands of people who could not care less about their well-being and safety. Little wonder that Aemond from this point trained to be the ultimate fighter. Who else would defend him and his family from something like this - or worse - that could happen in the future?

[lullaebies]

Aegon II, Helaena, and Historical Counterparts: Hope, Fate and the Doomed

So I had to do a little write up after something came to mind. This is an interpertation of Aegon II and Helaena in regards to how they may see the crown as it effects their relationship. Note that this is based of their characters in F&B, not the show. So needed context for this write up: As we know, Targaryens marry within the family. Keeps bloodlines pure, keeps dragonriding as a Targaryen ability. For the purposes of this write up, the theme is Targaryens marry within the family in order to maintain power. Duty is to keep the dragons within the family, duty is for a male heir to marry his sister in order to keep the literal power (dragons) and figurative powers (the crown) in the family. Historical heirs and rulers married within the family; notably Aegon The Uncrowned and Rhaena, as did Jaehaerys I and Alysanne. These two pairs will be our focus and comparison to Helaena and Aegon, but to begin with, we must acknowledge that unlike Helaena and Aegon these two pairs were either expected to rule, or have ruled for a long time and were praised. For Aegon II and Helaena, they were, as far as I remember, the first sibling couple in the royal dynasty era that had not been expected to take over the Realm (Edit: aside from Baelon and Alyssa, who had been more of a love match, and whose marriage kept their dragons in the family). Helaena and Aegon’s marriage is not advantageous to them, but instead to Rhaenyra and Viserys's hopes for the crown - denying the Greens alliances and hence power to their cause. They don't seem to have/are not mentioned to have dragon eggs, and instead seem to claim older dragons (Sunfyre and Dreamfyre) so they have to gain that power "on their own" in a sense too. [I will note book!Viserys does not seem to discourage the Greens from getting dragons - but alas they still had to go out and claim their own.] With a marriage that seems more purposeful in blocking power from reaching their hands, with already two people who feel pushed aside (Aegon being described as solemn and a grouch; Helaena noted to be less remarkable in beauty to Targs, in an era where she would be compared to her sister who was once "The Realm's Delight"), they seem to be helpless in their place. They are in a position where neither of them have an inheritance aside from their dragon, and where they know they would have to live subservient to Rhaenyra's wishes despite their family not getting along with hers to say the least. Their marriage is a chain around them at the time, and it hurts them. Only teens, Aegon rebels and cheats as he is - Helaena also is rather jokingly cynical, noting that people won't find him in her beds when people look to coronate him. They have an odd somewhat resigned relationship prior to the crowning, despite being noted to sleep in the same bed together regardless and have moments of jealousy [Aegon being mad at Jace for asking Helaena to Dance] - to me at least, they read as if they accepted the hand dealt at life and try to go with the flow of each other. There is struggle and understanding they find in each other. For the longest while, Aegon the Uncrowned and Rhaena are their soft parallels. An Aegon that had been denied the Throne; Helaena is a rider of Dreamfyre as well just like Rhaena. They have twins, and most of all — their story seems doomed.

Then, the coronation time comes, and there is somewhat of a shift. Not specifically in the relationship, but how they try to take it up — suddenly, they are King and Queen, and their relationship is pinnicale Targaryen power. They are crowned with their notably metallic colored, silver and gold dragons marking a new future to them. Aegon II is declaring he is fighting against an usurper that he is sure will kill his family, that in the future will be compared to Maegor the Cruel. Helaena, beloved of the Smallfolk, joins the Council table and argues for peace with her mother, a moderate voice to her more stern king, along with their mother Alicent, [despite this being an admittedly slightly flimsier part] whose name can ring a bell back to Alyssa Velaryon, King Aenys's wife. What I'm trying to lead us to, is our second comparison — Aegon II and Helaena after their coronation, had been hoping to be like Jaehaerys and Alysanne. With their magnificent metallic dragons, they wanted to find their power against someone they consider Maegor-like (Rhaenyra; and soon enough her cause will lead to the death of both her nephews so... checks out). They wanted to find again their power in this union that was not meant to bring them power. They were young adults, accepting the mantle and entering the war with the idea that they are upholding the law and going against violation to the succession from occurring again like in Maegor's case; entering the war with the idea that they must do so to protect their family. Alas, that is not to be. Very soon, that impression of protecting the family with the crown is shattered with the death of Jaehaerys. And now they're back to understanding that a crown and dragons are not quite enough. The struggle returns. They break from each other after B&C and suddenly, they return to the doomed narrative — like Aegon the Uncrowned, Aegon II goes to battle. Unlike him, he does not die, but he may as well be with his condition, and from the eyes of Helaena, who never sees him again after he is smuggled away, it cannot be too different. As she realizes and returns to understanding that there is no hope - she is a black bride, captured by Rhaenyra who is her Maegor while her husband for all she knows is dead - she also realizes that she is living a fate worse than Rhaena too, when Maelor dies. She gives up. The hope is gone and the grief is too much. She and her children are as doomed - there was no power in the crown, only pain. She jumps down to the moat. Residuals of Helaena's image as an Alysanne like figure spark the riots against Rhaenyra, and Aegon II, hides like Jaehaerys I did from Maegor for the longest while, and uses his last bits of power to overthrow Rhaenyra. He still dies in the end, however, poisoned.

In conclusion; Helaena and Aegon's cause had them bolstering the image of Jaehaerys and Alysanne, but they could not escape the tragedy of Aegon the Uncrowned and Rhaena losing it all. There was hope to find power in their union, as Jaehaerys and Alysanne did, but the crown and war for it had brought them immense grief, as it did Aegon the Uncrowned and Rhaena. An arc of hope and tragedy between a doomed pair.

[foundtherightwords]

Fallen Empires - Chapter 5

Pairing: Geta x OFC

Summary: Having done the unthinkable to secure his throne, Emperor Geta rules with ruthlessness and paranoia. Now, after escaping an assassination attempt, a badly injured Geta is saved by Daphne, a young widow, who takes him back to her remote village without knowing his true identity. As Daphne nurses the former emperor back to health, attraction blooms between them, and Geta discovers a soft side he didn't know he possessed. But can their love survive his thirst for revenge and his desire to reclaim power?

Chapter warnings: domestic violence, physical abuse

Chapter word count: 3.7k

Prologue + Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Daphne watched her patient across the table. He was bending over two flat boards, gouging out a shallow square in each of their centers with a chisel she'd borrowed from her youngest brother, Mikkos, claiming she needed it to fix a window. Mikkos, ever the dutiful sibling, had offered to fix the window for her, but she insisted she could do it herself, saying she didn't want to take him away from his regular carpenter work. It was such a bad lie that she feared Mikkos might turn up anyway, but it looked like he believed her.

Romulus was trying to make a wax tablet. It had all started the other day, when Daphne came back from her usual rounds in the village to find out her goat, Amalthea, had broken into the garden and was contentedly munching on some of the seedlings she'd just planted. Daphne had given Amalthea a stern talking-to and planned to raise the garden wall so the goats couldn't jump over it—she didn't have to worry about Midas, who was a good boy and knew the garden was off-limit—but what really worried her was that she didn't know what Amalthea had eaten exactly. Some of the medicinal plants were poisonous or at least harmful to a goat, and the poison could pass into Amalthea's milk, harming the kids as well.

"Don't you remember what you've planted?" Romulus asked, when he heard her scold Amalthea.

"Well—yes, usually," she stammered. "But I've been busy taking care of you so I wasn't paying attention." She ran an irritated hand through her hair. "Time like this, I wish I knew how to read, so I can label my plants and medicines."

Romulus stared at her. "You don't know how to read?"

Now it was her turn to stare at him. "Of course not. Around here, one doesn't need letters to be shepherds." The only person in the village who knew how to read and write was the chief, Master Kavos, and even then, only enough to write down thei villagers' names in the tax roll. Daphne had always wanted to learn, but she knew she shouldn't get ideas above herself. She had once been courted by a scribe in the nearby town of Adala, and when she suggested to him that she should like to learn to read, he had only laughed at her, thinking it was a joke.

Thankfully, Amalthea was none the worse for wear, but Daphne had a stressful day watching the goat for signs of poisoning or bloating. That evening, over their meal, Romulus suggested casually, "I can teach you to read, if you want."

"Why?" Daphne asked warily.

"It'll be something to do," he said with a careless shrug.

In the end, Daphne had agreed. She could see no harm in it, and she rather liked the idea of having neat rows of labeled jars and jugs, like the apothecary's shop in Adala she often visited. And Romulus was right, it would be something to do in the long hours when it was too hot to work outside. He was still pushing himself too hard with his exercises, and often Daphne had to remind him to go into the shades and rest or he would have a sunstroke. He struck her as a restless sort of person; no doubt he was tired of being cooped up inside. This would give them both something to fill their time.

So now he was making a wax tablet for their lessons. She could tell he was not used to woodworking, as he held the tool awkwardly and his chiseling was uneven, but he seemed determined to get it done. He frowned over the chisel, sweat dripping down his forehead, the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth. The expression contrasted with his usual scowl, giving him a rather childish look, and Daphne had to turn away to hide a grin.

She wondered why she kept him around for so long. It had been a month since she brought him back, half-dead, from the Balikh, and he had made a remarkable recovery. Perhaps not enough to walk all the way to Edessa, but certainly enough to leave on a cart or a wagon. Yet she kept putting off his departure, telling him—and herself—that something could happen to him on the road, that his wounds could open up again, that his fever could come back. She could never live with herself if she let her patient die from negligence. But other than professional pride, there was another reason she kept the soldier around, the same reason she'd saved him in the first place—for companionship.

In the years since she received the message that Galen was not coming back from Caledonia, and since she moved into the hut following her grandmother's death, Daphne had been on her own. Of course, the villagers were always around, but they never stayed for long. The only time Daphne had had a patient stay with her was when Ione, the little girl who lived on the next hill, broke her leg running down the hill after her father's goats. After Daphne had set the bone, the little girl had become so taken with Amalthea that she'd insisted on staying, and for the next three weeks, Daphne had had a rather chatty housemate who hobbled around, got underfoot, and made a mess of all her herbs and potions. Daphne had rather enjoyed it. Even now, whenever she had to leave the village for longer than a few days, she still entrusted the care of Amalthea and her kids to Ione.

It was hard being alone. It was the one thing that her grandmother, for all the wisdom she had imparted to Daphne, had failed to teach her. When she first moved into the hut, Daphne had thought she would enjoy it, after years of growing up with two younger brothers and never having a moment to herself. But the novelty had worn off quickly. Sometimes, on winter evenings, when dusk fell early over the hills, her own fire giving up little warmth, she would sit and watch the smoke from the huts down in the valley blend in with the gray clouds, feeling so lonely that she might even risk her father's wrath to come back to the village. But in the end, fear of her father always won out, and she remained in her hut, wondering how her grandmother had managed it all those years.

Now, it was a comfort to return to the hut after a long day to another person, who was waiting for her. It was a comfort to hear a voice other than her own and see another face across from the table during mealtimes. It was a comfort to fall asleep knowing there was another person just on the other side of the wall. A simple sort of comfort, perhaps, and it would not last, but she would take it for as long as she could.

One might say that an irascible, arrogant, and quarrelsome legionary did not make for a very good companion, but Daphne didn't mind. Had he been courteous and good-humored, had he asked for her help with politeness and accepted it gladly, it would have made her nervous, afraid that she would offend the noble patrician with her coarse peasant ways. His roughness put her at ease. It was simply that he, like most men, was used to having his every order followed and his every whim catered to. His undoubtedly high status only made it worse. She had had her fair share of men like him, men who insisted they were perfectly fine until the moment they tumbled over from pain. Patrician or plebeian, at the end of the day, they were all the same. She knew how to deal with them.

The only thing that bothered her was Romulus's reticence. After a month, she knew nothing about him except for his name, and that may not even be real. To all of her questions, he answered none and only gave questions of his own. He'd stopped making her taste his food and medicine, but she knew he still slept with his dagger under his pillow. Well, she couldn't blame him for being suspicious after having so narrowly escaped death. Who was she to judge anyway? She hadn't been exactly open with him either.

That day he walked around and got himself lost on the hillside, it had been on the tip of her tongue to tell him about Galen. When she turned around and saw him sitting at the door with his back to her, dressed in Galen's old tunic, for a heart-stopping moment, she'd thought he was Galen. They had the same build, sturdy and broad-shouldered, the same dark curls and eyes. The difference was that Galen had been quick to jest and to laugh, while Romulus was always scowling. But for some reason, she felt shy about mentioning Galen to Romulus, and so she had kept those memories to herself.

After the boards had been chiseled out, Daphne melted some beeswax and poured it into the hollows, while Romulus fashioned two styli out of twigs, and the lessons began. Daphne took to it with an enthusiasm she didn't know she possessed, and soon learned to write her name, the names of her animals, and the common names of the medicinal plants in her garden. Romulus seemed to enjoy the lessons as well, and she often caught him watching her with a curious expression, without his usual wariness. When they tired of the writing and reading lessons, Romulus made another board, marked off a series of squares on it with his knife, and gathered a handful of pebbles from outside—half of them black and the other half white—and placed each of them on a square. It was a Roman game called latrunculi, or draughts, he said, and proceeded to teach Daphne to play. In this, she proved to be a quick learner as well. Once she'd grasped the rules, it only took her five games to beat Romulus. This brought on another scowl, while Daphne laughed at him for being a sore loser.

With such occupations, the long, hot days of early summer went by quickly. Romulus seemed calmer, though he remained wary, watchful of every little movement outside the hut. One afternoon, Daphne was coming in from the garden with some vegetables. She had just stepped through the door when an arm yanked her into a corner and a hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her half-formed scream. It took her a moment to realize it was Romulus, who was standing with his back against the wall. His eyes were enormous in the dimness of the hut, and sweat was pouring down his face. Daphne tried not to notice how tightly he was holding her, how his arm was circling her, pressing her back to his chest. He smelled of sweat and leather, and for a confused moment, she was reminded of evenings when she went to the edge of the pasture to meet Galen coming back with the goats. They had been courting then, though they had always known they would marry, so it wasn't as if Galen had to do anything to woo her. She would throw her arms around him and press her face into his neck, and he'd smelled just like this...

She twisted out of Romulus's arm and hissed through his fingers, "What in Hades are you doing?"

"Shh!" He held up his dagger, precariously close to her face. "There's a man coming up the path." His breath was hot against her ear.

"One of the villagers?"

"No. I've never seen him before. He looks shifty."

"Stop being so damned suspicious!" she snapped. "You haven't seen everybody from the village. Just go into the bedroom and let me see who it is."

Reluctantly, he lowered the knife and let her go. Once the bedroom door had closed behind him, Daphne picked up the vegetables that had fallen out of her basket and looked out the door to see who the mysterious visitor was.

Her stomach dropped. Staggering up the path was her father, Timon. His robe was disheveled—more disheveled than usual, his head bare, his face bruised. Each of his feet was having a very different idea of where it was going, and she could practically smell the wine on his breath from where she was.

Silently cursing, she went out to meet him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Chaire to you too," said Timon, sounding friendly for once. "You're looking well, daughter."

Her guard was instantly up. Whenever her father was being nice, it was because he wanted something. She eyed his bruises and had a pretty good guess what it was he was after. She asked anyway. "What do you want?"

"Can't I just visit and see how you're doing?" He sat down by the front door and looked up at her with bleary eyes. "Your mother misses you. When was the last time you came to see us?"

"I just saw Mother the other day," she said coldly. She wished he would just get on with it and leave.

Timon peered into the hut. Daphne followed his gaze warily, hoping Romulus hadn't left the wax tablet or the latrunculi board lying around. She knew her father would come down on her with all the wrath of Zeus if he found a man living with her. There were two cups on the table, but thankfully, Timon didn't seem to notice.

"Looks like you're doing well," he said. "Lots of patients, lots of coins..."

"What coin? When have you ever seen any coin around here?"

"I don't need much." And there it was. She knew it had to come out sooner or later. "Just a few coins to tie me over." Always the same. If she had saved all the coins she'd given her father "to tie him over" throughout the years, she would've been rich by now.

Daphne sighed. "How much do you owe?"

"Ten drachmae," said Timon. Daphne groaned inwardly. Ten drachmae was a large sum even by the standard of a sizeable town, where a man could subsist on half a drachma a day; here in their village, where they lived by bartering and some had never seen so much as an obol, it was practically a fortune. "Those snakes at the nomad camp tricked me!" her father snarled. "They said it was just one game, for fun, and before I knew it, they've taken everything I got! It wasn't my fault!"

"It's never your fault, is it?" Daphne snapped. "Mother and Mikkos work their fingers to the bone, and Attikos sends home everything he can, but it's never enough for you, because you insist on falling in with every low-life and criminal you come across!"

"You're one to talk!" Timon stood up, and Daphne had to turn her face away from his wine-sour breath. "You'd never have this place if it wasn't for me! And here you are, living in the lap of luxury, while your family starves!"

Daphne grimaced. Her father's drunken insults were nothing new, but they never stopped grating. He made it sound like she was dining on roast mutton and fresh fish every night. "Go home," she said. "I have nothing for you."

"We'll see about that!" said her father. He stormed into the hut and started going through her herbs and potions, searching for where she might have hidden some money. Jars clattered to the ground. They didn't break on the soft earthen floor, but their contents spilled out, leaves and roots scattering everywhere. Daphne trembled in terror, not of her father's wrath, but of him opening her bedroom. If he burst upon the knife-wielding Romulus, it would be catastrophic.

"Stop it!" she shouted, trying to shove him outside.

"Perhaps I ought to take your goats," Timon said, staggering out the door. "Or that donkey. They should fetch a pretty sum."

"No!" Daphne went cold all over. Knowing her father, her animals would end up at the butcher's right away. She grabbed the back of Timon's robe, and he went sprawling on the ground.

"Is this how you treat your father, you ungrateful whore?" he slurred, scrambling to his feet.

"I will treat you as a father when you start acting like a father!" she shot back.

This earned her a backhanded slap across her face. Timon was so drunk that it didn't hurt much, yet Daphne could feel hot blood dripping down her cheek. Putting her fingers up, she realized the slap had caused the cut on her cheek to open again. She glared at her father. This was routine for him. Once he failed to appeal to her sense of filial duty, he would resort to violence. It had always been the same way in their family, even when she was a child. When one of them didn't do what he wanted, he would hit their mother or one of the children until they submitted to his will. Her grandmother had been the only one standing between them and Timon's beating, and it was only after she took on her grandmother's mantle that Daphne found the strength to start standing up to him. In fact, Daphne was surprised her father had made the trip up here himself. Usually, he would force her mother to go in his stead, knowing Daphne could never refuse her mother anything. Perhaps this time he had realized, and rightly so, that her mother's bruised and battered face would only infuriate Daphne and get him nowhere.

Daphne pressed a corner of her stole to her cheek. If there had only been herself, she would have fought harder to drive her father away. But she wasn't alone. No doubt Romulus had heard their struggle. She had to get her father out of the hut before Romulus became even more agitated and did something foolish.

Going back inside, she gathered up some amphorae of wine that she'd just picked up from the village, a payment for curing a shepherd of his toothache. She dumped them into a basket and pressed the lot into her father's arms. "Here," she said. "It's the only thing I have that is worth something. Take it. Treat your gambling pals to a drink and maybe they'll give you an extension on your debt. Or you can drown in it for all I care."

Timon raised his hand again, but this time Daphne had foreseen his intention and ducked. Losing his balance, her father had to hold on to a boulder to keep from falling over. It took the fight out of him, and he took the basket from her with a brightening face.

"You're a good girl, Daphne," he said as if nothing had happened. "I know you'll take care of us." He reached out to pat her cheek. She flinched away. "Speaking of which, have you given Izkur's proposal another thought? He's very keen, you know."

"No," she said, trying to keep calm. "I've told you, I'm not going to marry again, and certainly not to that old lecher. Go home now. And try to stay out of trouble this time," she added, knowing it wouldn't happen.

Daphne watched until his stumbling figure disappeared down the path, before returning to the hut. She was cleaning the blood off her face when Romulus emerged from the bedroom, still holding his dagger.

"That was your father?" he asked.

She sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."

"You've never mentioned him."

"What's there to mention?" she said with a shrug. "He's the terror of the village. If it wasn't for my grandmother, our whole family would've been driven out of this place years ago because of him."

"Is that why you insist that I hide?"

"Yes. I would not have him accuse me of misconduct." She didn't say that the secrecy was for her father's protection as much as hers and Romulus's. Then suddenly she realized what she was implying by "misconduct", and her cheeks grew hot even as the pain from the cut subsided. Romulus didn't seem to notice.

"What did he mean when he said you wouldn't have this place if it wasn't for him?" he continued.

Daphne wrung out the bloody cloth and hung it up. "This was my grandmother's place," she explained. "She left it to me on her deathbed, even though I can't inherit. My father is her only son, so it should've gone to him. But I convinced him to let me stay here and continue my grandmother's work."

Romulus was quiet for a moment. "I have some money," he said. "You could've given it to him."

"I'll not touch your money!" She had seen the pouch on his belt since the first day and heard the clink of coins inside it, but had refused to even open it on principle. Then she added, in a softer voice, so he wouldn't think her ungrateful. "Besides, it wouldn't be enough. It would never be enough for my father."

Romulus looked at her strangely. She turned away, not wanting him to see the bruise forming on her cheek, and started gathering up the spilled jars.

"My father—" Romulus began.

Daphne turned back to him with interest, for this was the first time he had ever mentioned anything relating to his personal life. Only whatever it was he had to say seemed stuck in his throat. She waited, but he closed his mouth again. With a sigh, Daphne returned her attention to the jars.

Without another word, Romulus put the dagger away, got down on his knees, and helped her.

"Thank you," she said with a smile, as he handed her a jar.

Her smile seemed to startle him. And then, slowly, hesitantly, a corner of his mouth lifted in return. It was the first smile she'd ever seen from him, and brief though it was, it still lit up his face and wiped away his scowl. It made him look younger and friendlier, and Daphne no longer wondered why she kept him around.

Chapter 6

As you may know, in the "Gladiator II" script, there is a deleted line that reveals Geta and Caracalla's father was abusive. While this has no basis in history (same as much of the movie), it does align nicely with what I already had written about Daphne's own abusive father, so I had to add a little moment between Daphne and Geta as a nod to that. I'd like to think that Geta's childhood trauma made him more sympathetic toward Daphne, though he may not be ready to admit that yet.

Taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92, @justnobodynothingmore, @barcelonaloverf1life, @myotakureprieve, @flawssy-227, @itsrainingbisexualfrogs (if you want to be tagged or removed, let me know!)

[myimaginationplain]

I've found that when it comes to discussing who has the best claim to the iron throne and/or the Targaryen dynasty, there's often this implicit assumption that when Jon finds out about his true parentage, the knowledge will inevitably leak to the general Westerosi public. People love to theorize about whether or not the Northerners would continue to support Jon if his being Rhaegar's son came to light, or if he would be pushed as heir to the iron throne over Dany & Aegon, & I'm just like...how would any of them find out about it? Why would any of them find out about it?

I feel like some people believe that when Jon finds out about R + L = J, he'll, I dunno, send out news letters about it or something? Publicly renounce his status as Eddard Stark's son? I don't exactly understand what people think Jon would do with the information, but anything less than keeping as tight a lid on it as possible would be very out of character for Jon. Guys, we're talking about the same guy who purposefully gave a young mother the wrong baby. He's not gonna be cavalier about this.

The only people we can really be certain he'd feel the need to tell the truth to are Arya & Sansa. We know that Bran is likely to already know the truth himself by then through his greenseer tree-god bullshit; Rickon, even if he is found & taken to Winterfell by the time the other siblings reconvene (which I find highly unlikely), would probably be considered too young to trust with information like that.

Daenerys is also an extremely likely candidate for being one of the few people Jon would tell, although this is variable, as it depends on what sort of relationship you believe she & Jon will have by the time R + L = J is revealed. I for one am betting on she & Jon already being involved in some capacity by the time he finds out, thus making her one of the people he'd tell. But if you're in the camp of people who think they'll be enemies by then, he probably wouldn't tell her in that scenario.

Sam is furthest down on the very short list of people Jon would probably tell. I think it's likely, seeing how much he trusts Sam & leans on him for support. But still, it's not a sure thing.

So, including Howland Reed (who has successfully kept the secret for ~17 years now), that makes just 6-7 people who would be privy to Jon's parentage. None of whom would have much motivation to go screaming about it from the hilltops in any scenario where they're still behaving like themselves. (If any of you bring up show!Sansa here, then I'm gonna beat you with a hammer. Don't be a hypocrite; if you can acknowledge & accept that literally every other character was wildly ooc in Season 8, then do the same with Sansa. Betraying Jon's trust after swearing not to before a heart tree is just as ooc for book!Sansa as purposefully burning Kings' Landing to ash would be for book!Daenerys.)

Even in the event that Jon rides a dragon, I think that can easily be explained away by lying about Jon's mother. "Oh, why can I ride a dragon? Not many people know this, but my mother was actually a Lyseni whore. You know they have some Valyrian blood in them. She died in childbirth, though, which is why my lord father took me in." Who's gonna call his bluff on that? Ned's resolute silence on Jon's mother would absolutely work in his favor. The historical precident set by Nettles & others like her means that Jon can 100% just say his mother was the daughter of some unknown dragonseed or something.

IMO, the real question we should be asking is, if Jon were to have children, would he ever tell them the truth?

[hisdarlingabsurdity]

Aqua Regia

Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!reader

Tw: HOTD content. MDNI

Taggies: @dracaryxzs

⊹ ࣪ ˖﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ｡° ⚔︎｡°⊹ ࣪ ˖

Days passed in a blur of palpable regret. Princess Rhaenyra and her family had left Kings Landing for Dragonstone, just when you and Jacaerys had been getting along. You started to wish you'd become friends with him earlier. Now you did not even bother to deny in yourself that your days became brighter because of Jacaerys Velaryon's presence.

It was far more gratifying to just accept that you were soft for him and his brothers, come wrath and fury of your own. You'd had enough of sacrificing your happiness for Aegon's sadistic nature and Aemond's bitter resentment. You even took it upon yourself to have the Velaryon brother’s play with Helaena as well. And the baby, Joffrey was his name, was unbelievably adorable. There were times where you felt certain the baby felt irritated at your pestering.

You knew your mother, and your grandfather were not exactly happy with how close you were with princess Rhaenyra's family. But you didn't know the extent of their disapproval until now.

"The audacity, she had…to suggest a betrothal between my eldest daughter to her illegitimate son. I can almost hear cries of objection from Oldtown.” She shuddered.

“Not like I would let her taint my daughter's honour. I’m just glad they took a hint and left, since my own children can’t. What will the people think, seeing you associating with those," she paused, before lowering her voice. "With those bastards."

She raised her hand at you, keeping you from talking. "I know what you're about to say, it is treason, yes. But there's only us here. We can speak plainly about things that are glaringly undeniable."

She had been scolding all four of you, saying that Rhaenyra only had the nerve to suggest a betrothal between you and Jacaerys because of your leniency, befriending the Velaryon brothers instead of making it clear that you won't stand aside and let them take the throne. Unsurprisingly, and to your sibling's dismay, her anger was directed more to them than you.

“I don’t even know why you’re mad at us, it is her who enjoys their company.” Aegon spoke up, pointing at you. “Even dragged Helaena into it. Aemond too. I just…I mean they’re just there and I’m letting them be, leaving them alone just as my beloved sister asked me to.”

Alicent sighed. “Of course, she did. And every man at court, and maids, even knights and their squires wouldn’t bat an eyelash. They might have even expected this! It is fitting for your sister to be kind even to them. But it is unbecoming of you, the one whose birthright is being stolen.”

“I wasn’t being kind to them.” Aegon stuttered. Lies. You knew he was at least enjoying their company a little.

"There are already whispers about you— about us. That our family might be supporting Rhaenyra's claim."

"Her rightful claim, mother. If I may remind you." You added.

She turned to look at you, eyes sharp. Aegon sticks his tongue out mockingly at you as she turns her back to them.

"My dear, you are too much of a saint." She sighed.

Aegon, shaking his head in disbelief, mouthed 'What the fuck,' while Aemond only looked up as if in silent prayer.

"Sometimes, daughter. You should not take what men say, even Kings, as the one, true fact. Especially one as indecisive as your father. Your father he, how should I say this...we all love him, of course. But like most men, they have too much pride to admit when they made a mistake. Naming Rhaenyra heir just to spite his brother was a mistake. And it is our duty, to lead them to the righteous path."

You say nothing, clearly she wasn't interested in arguing further. You'd only risk losing what trust she has on you if you keep on pushing her.

"I know you feel bad for Rhaenyra's children. But daughter," she says your name, looking imploringly into your eyes. "She is only your half-sister. She might have affection for you but trust me when I say the love she holds for you is not as deep and pure as the love you hold for her."

Gently, she pushed a strand of your hair from your face. "I fear she is using you. Cleansing their reputation through you, by association. Let the people talk. Everyone knows about their sins. Everyone knows that your brother is the rightful heir.”

Aegon pushed himself off a chair, arms outstretched. “Since the people hold my sister in such a high regard, enough that her favour granted absolution to the bastards, perhaps we too, should listen to her. The Realm’s Favoured Daughter. Defender of the weak, the women and children, Protector of bastards. Listen to her and let the princess Rhaenyra sit on the throne. The Seven knows I’ve no desire for it.”

Alicent sighed, before shooting her son a blank stare. “We have already talked about this Aegon.” You knew what she meant. The things she hissed at Aegon, about how Rhaenyra will have you all killed to keep her claim unquestioned.

Aegon continued, eyes full of mirth. “The Maiden and The Mother in the flesh. Nurturing, loving even the sons of a whore.”

“Aegon!” Alicent hissed.

“See now, this is why nobody who knows you has any respect for you.” You answered.

“The Princess’ children, for such young boys, are more agreeable than you will ever be. You are a lascivious fool, foul-mouthed and vile. And I hate how you treat women. Let me remind you that every woman is an image of The Mother, to be respected, and revered. You look down upon those boys so much but they have more honour in their little finger than you have in your whole being.”

“Oh please.” Aegon scoffed, waving your words away. “Give it time, let them grow a little, puberty will do its job and show you their true colours. Seven Hells, I bet Jacaerys’s been wanking his tiny little cock to you at night,” he said, gesturing his closed fist back and forth.

Seething, you marched towards Aegon, intent on wiping the smirk off his face.

You stopped in your tracks, nails digging into the palm of your hands.

You redirected your gaze toward your mother. “Here is the rightful heir to the throne: Your eldest son whom you have been raising to be a wise, fair king.”

Aemond winced, and drew in a sharp breath while Aegon blinked at you, reeling at the absence of a blow he expected from you. Helaena sneezed. You sent your brother the most vicious glare you could muster. You will never forgive him for talking ill of Jacaerys that way. You stormed off, not waiting for your mother to gather her thoughts.

The next time you meet Jacaerys once again, was at a funeral. Laena Velaryon's to be exact. The entire royal court met with the grieving Velaryons at driftmark, forcing the two families of Alicent and Rhaenyra to have to interact with each other after Rhaenyra's departure from the Keep.

You could not look Jacaerys in the eyes.

You blamed yourself for falling short. Failing to keep the whispers back, and the disgusted stares off of him and his brothers. After the incident in the courtyard, when Ser Harwin Strong had snapped, the gossiping you worked hard to quell had resurfaced tenfold, giving Rhaenyra no choice but to leave.

You respected her for that decision. She could've stayed, hardened herself and kept her claim strong by holding her position in the small council. Instead, she prioritized the safety of her children, as any good mother would.

You still haven't gathered the courage to approach the lad during the gathering at the Cliffside of High Tide castle for the wake, choosing to observe instead.

You suspected that Jacaerys must've wanted nothing more to do with you, for he hadn't answered any of your letters. You knew it wasn't a direct consequence of your shortcoming, Jacaerys wasn't the kind of kid who would befriend someone because of their status, or what favours they could grant.

Beside you, Aegon was complaining about how he was about to end up being betrothed to either you or Helaena, while Aemond was claiming to be determined in fulfilling his duties, even if it means marrying either of

you two.

You watched from a distance as Jacaerys offered comfort to Laena Velaryon's daughters, holding one of their hands in his.

“Seriously,” Aegon said, glancing at you. “She should have just let you marry Jacaerys Velaryon.”

Looking at the sight before you, of Baela and Jacaerys’ hands, you considered the thought for the first time. You shook your head at the selfish thought. Their mother had just died.

Without a word, you left your three siblings, making your way towards the stairs leading down to the shore.

You looked around for a piece of wood, finally picking up a slightly damp one. Crouching, you felt around your boots for a dagger you've hidden there, having left your sword in your temporary quarters. You unsheathed the dagger and started whittling away. You were no artist by any means, but the act kept you from spiraling into your own sometimes irrational thinking.

Being engrossed in your work, you hadn't noticed someone approaching. You started when your name was uttered, causing your hand to slip.

You looked up, wincing at the brightness of the sky. Jacaerys stood beside you, fidgeting, unsure.

Then his eyes widened. “You're bleeding!” He exclaimed before falling to his knees. You didn't realize that you had cut yourself.

“Oh…ouch.” You sucked in a breath as he inhaled sharply, both simultaneously hissing at the wound. You caught his gaze before laughing. He snorted, failing to suppress his laughter. Then he shook his head.

“We shouldn't be laughing, we must tend to it immediately.”

“It's just a scratch, look, it already stopped bleeding.” You said before crawling towards the waves and thrusting your hand into the salty water.

He frowned, before grabbing your wrist and pulling it out of the water.

“Don't just dip your bleeding hand in there. Saltwater isn't kind to open wounds. We have to keep that cut clean and dry or else it'll fester.”

You tilted your head. “I thought seawater would clean wounds, not infect them.”

“Well, it isn't necessarily harmful, but I've heard stories about Sea Snake's voyage and about sailors whose wounds became worse when exposed to seawater.”

“Oh. Perhaps they were exposed too long. Anyways it should be fine, it's not that deep.”

“But it's my fault,” he said, his shoulders slumping.

You shook your head. “No it isn't.”

“I practically sneaked up on you.”

“No, my back was to you. Even if you'd announced your presence from way over there, I would've still made the same mistake. It was my fault for not being aware of my surroundings.”

He giggled. “We haven't seen each other in a while and the first thing we do is argue.”

“I read somewhere that lighthearted arguments are necessary for a healthy friendship.”

He gave you a sheepish smile to which you responded to with one of your own. You were glad that conversations came as easily as it did before.

“I'm glad that you are still talking to me, after everything.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I should be the one to say that to you.”

He shook his head, his soft hair bouncing at the act. “I understood what you meant, when you said you no longer wanted to associate yourself with me. I was hesitant to approach you because I knew my presence is unwelcome. It was my fault you've been endlessly berated by your mother, you have a right to be mad.”

You reeled back, scrunching up your face at what he had said. “First of all, when did I ever say that?”

“Why, in your letters.” He answered, and you couldn't stop yourself from making a noise of confusion.

“I sent letters to you. And you never responded, so I thought you were mad at me.” You said.

“What letters?” He asked. “You only sent one, wherein you told me that you've been enduring your mothers wrath to keep on being friends with me. Then you told me to stop sending you letters, which is reasonable. I should've thought about it before sending you ravens after ravens, anybody would've felt annoyed.”

“But I never wrote anything of the sort, and I received no letters from you, none at all.”

“Oh,” he said. Horrified at the thought of somebody else having read his endearments that were meant for your eyes only.

You scoffed, incredulous. Thinking about how someone had been deliberately keeping things from you, and that the maids and the knight assigned to you must've been in on it. A heavy feeling of dread settled in your chest at the thought that one of your family, if not multiple, have been intercepting letters meant for you.

Both of you were silent, only the crashing waves could be heard.

“Huh,” you said.

“Yeah…” he answered. “So you aren't mad at me at all?” He asked.

“No!” You answered. “Are you? Mad at me, I mean.”

“Why should I be?”

“I blame myself for…well now it sounds stupid but I felt partially at fault when Rhaenyra was forced to remove herself from the Keep. “

“It is not your fault, that should be obvious.”

You sighed. “I know. I was just disappointed I guess. It's not a secret that I prefer your companionship more than my own brothers. Sometimes I wish Helaena and I were….nevermind.”

He did not agree, and wasn't afraid to reject your idea.

“I'm glad that you aren't my sister, but not because I wouldn't want to be able to be with you always.” He said, quick to clarify what he meant.

“You are devoted to The Seven, and unlike Targaryens, it is a sin for pious people like you to marry brothers and sisters. Therefore if you and Helaena had been born in my family, as my sisters, you probably wouldn't even consider marrying me.”

You were surprised that he mentioned marriage. He must've noticed because he went on to explain. “Mother asked me if I wouldn't mind being married to you. She told me that it would help strengthen our claim.” He explained.

You were impressed that your half-sister discussed such matters with her young son. Most wouldn't have bothered, only thinking of what they could gain from marrying their sons and daughters off.

“Well, think about it. If I were born as your sister, perhaps I wouldn't even be as pious. Devotion to The Seven is my mother's influence on me.”

“Huh,” he said. Comically in the same manner you did earlier.

“Now that my mother rejected your mother’s suggestion, you will be marrying another. Perhaps one of Lady Laena's daughters.” You said, unintentionally probing.

He looked to the sky, pursing his lips in thought, before nodding solemnly. “Perhaps. Baela's my age.”

“Lady Laena is a good woman, I heard. A gentle, loving mother and a fierce dragonrider. No doubt her daughters are the same. She will make a fine wife, and queen in the future.”

He only stared at you for a moment, and you wondered if he heard jealousy in your voice that you weren't aware of.

“Would you like to meet her?” He asked.

When Jacaerys asked if you wished to meet Baela Targaryen, you expected him to be the one to approach first, and then actually introduce you to each other. You did not expect him to just pull you forward, in front of the kid without a word. He only gestured encouragingly, as the girl looked up at you from her place on the bench. You greeted Princess Rhaenys, who was standing to the side first.

You then refocused your gaze in Baela's teary eyes, then at Rhaena's. You told them your name and offered your condolences, to which they replied by expressing pleasure in meeting you.

“We've heard much about you, princess.” Rhaena said, but then said no more. It was her sister Baela who clarified things in her stead.

“Princess Rhaenyra often mentions you in her letters. Mother would sometimes read the letters to us, so that we may get to know the people that are part of our family, especially those closest to our age. We always hoped we may meet.”

“Not only that,” Rhaena said after swallowing thickly. This time her voice carried a little bit of cheer in it, as if eager to express congeniality. “We oft heard stories about your benevolence, how at such a young age you were told to be wise beyond your years, having virtues encouraged by The Seven. Your reputation precedes you.”

You politely, (savagely, in Jacaerys’ opinion) swatted their words away.

“Exaggerated praises. The hightower lords liked to praise me too much. I haven't done anything worthy of receiving such veneration. Although…” you paused, successfully gaining their full attention.

“Don't tell anyone I said this,” you said, although hardly making any effort to lower your voice. “They might have been doing so to make me a desirable wife as much as they can, to paint me as soft spoken, caring, motherly, and keen to obey her husband.” You leaned towards them, as did Jacaerys to be able to hear you still.

“And I played the role well. Even got a sword out of it. I'll show you later. Absolutely nobody can tell me to get rid of it. It's got my name on it and everything as proof that I had complete blessing to carry it.” You were pleased as they gasped, surreptitiously smiling at your almost rebellious words. Rhaenys herself chuckled. You figured she was pleased that you managed to distract the sisters even for a moment.

“But, if that is so, why would they let you have a sword. Isn't that a bit contradictory?” Baela asked. It was a sound question. If the Hightowers were so fooled, why would they give you something that was mostly used by men?

“Ah. Took me some time, of course. I argued that since women are encouraged to embody various virtues associated with The Seven, I also had the prerogative to embody The Warrior. Courage and strength in defending the faith and the family are valued. This applies to both men and women in defending their beliefs and loved ones. And I argued, quite incessantly. The thing about old men is that if you tire them enough with ferocious tenacity, they're much more likely to give you what you asked, so long as you asked politely while also letting them hear what they want to hear. Targaryens had no issue with their women carrying around swords but I didn't make the mistake of reminding them needlessly that I wasn't purely a Hightower. I focused on what they believed in.”

They listened attentively, looking up at you with wide eyes and nodding.

“The stories do not seem so exaggerated. Those are wise words coming from such a young lady.”

You felt conscious of Princess Rhaenys’ scrutinizing gaze. You hoped you did not cross any lines, telling your younger cousins about practically manipulating old people.

“Of course, I do not condone such dishonest behaviors and manipulative tactics.” You added.

“You know what,” you said. Thinking of distracting everyone from the things you've just said. You handed your dagger to Baela.

“I am giving this to you, because I believe that from this day forth, you need any protection you can get. Now you have a fine dagger to protect you and your loved ones and you gained it not through deception so be not afraid to keep it, to wield it. To protect your sister.”

The girl's eyes widened as you placed the dagger in her hands. She looked around before bending over to study it.

“It's so beautiful,” Rhaena exclaimed.

“But Princess, if this was a gift I cannot take it from you. Besides, it looks too expensive.”

You shrugged. “Eh, one can do as they like with the gifts they receive. My instructor gave that to me, along with other trinkets so you're fine.” You said, waving your hand once again, this time dismissively before abruptly pausing. “If it is alright of course, to Princess Rhaenys.”

The older Princess shrugged as well, her smile eased the tensions you were worried of being responsible for.

“Well then I'll leave you to it.” You clasped your hands behind your back and left them to their own devices. You prayed that they wouldn't cut themselves or else you'd feel even more guilty than you already do.

You heard his footsteps before he finally caught up to you.

“You ramble a lot.” He observed.

“I do not think I can help it. I rarely get to speak with girls my age let alone younger ones. Other than Helaena.” You answered.

“Do not worry too much. I think they like you.”

“I hope they do. And I hope the Princess does not take the things I said seriously. It was foolish of me to tell the truth, especially when the truth isn't pristine and as pure as how I am believed to be.” You halted, pivoting to face Jacaerys. “If you never hear from me again, know that I would never not send you ravens, and that the cause may be that Princess Rhaenys told my mother of the things I've done. I'll be languishing in the dungeons with only the memory of our friendship to console me.”

Jacaerys held up his hand against his lips to muffle his laughter, before looking around in guilt.

“Will you stop making me laugh? It is highly inappropriate…” He whispered.

“I am not trying to be funny.” You whispered.

“Alright, alright, I'm sorry.” Jacaerys took a deep breath, and assumed a gloomy air. You did as well, composing yourself now that you were walking past some people.

“I also wanted to apologize,” you said.

“About what?”

“I am sorry that you and your family cannot openly mourn the loss of Ser Harwin Strong. He was a good man. Fiercely loyal and devoted to protecting your family.”

He nodded, blinking rapidly as tears began to gather in his eyes.

“I feel…severely disappointed and angry. Angry that I should be expected to mourn someone I do not know instead of—of my…” his voice was shaking, and you watch as his face start to redden, his lips quivering.”

You pulled him aside, behind a tent where no one could see nor hear the two of you.

You engulfed him in a hug, steadying him as sobbed. His pale complexion shifted almost to purple as he struggled to keep quiet. You had to remind him to breathe, that it was alright to cry and so he did. His tears stained your dress, though you did not mind. You only wanted to make sure he let his feelings out instead of bottling them up inside. He sniffed, sobs racking his body for a few more seconds before he started to hiccup instead.

“Alright, now. Take a deep breath—inhale, my prince…good now hold your breath. And breathe out.”

You let him gather himself, waiting patiently until his hiccups began to subside.

“I'll go get you some water, stay here.” He shook his head and refused to let go of your wrist.

“I'm fine,” he said, sniffing.

You sighed, before sliding your hands around him to pat him in the back.

“Thank you. And sorry.” He said, pointing at a damp spot on your dress.

“It's nothing.”

“I feel a bit better now. Thank you for letting me…” he paused, looking for the right words.

“I understand, Jacaerys.” You held his gaze steadily. “I do.”

He nodded.

“Oh, wait. I forgot.” You felt around your dress, fishing out a neatly folded handkerchief.

He chuckled while you wiped his tears away.

“Could've been much more useful earlier.”

“Hey, at least it's being useful now.”

You felt his hands clasp at the fabric around your waist as you busied yourself with making him presentable again.

“There we go.” You said. You looked around to make sure no one was spying on you two. You see Aemond start to approach the grieving Baelia and Rhaena, before changing his mind and returning to his place beside Helaena.

Seeing that nobody had noticed you two were missing yet, your eyes settled back on the boy in front of you.

Jacaerys was already staring at you, quite unabashedly before catching himself. He looked down, his gaze landing on his hands that were holding on to your dress.

“Sorry, it’s just…You’re very pretty.” He muttered.

“Thank you, my prince. You’re handsome yourself.”

“Thank you,” he replied, blushing.

“Seven Hells, just kiss already.”

It was almost painful, the way you had to supress the overwhelming urge to deck the peeping idiot. You feel Jacaerys’ hold on you clothes shift to your waist instead and you almost rolled your eyes. Instead of backing off and pretending to be at least five feet apart just for show, he put you two in a more compromising position. Though you do not blame him. He was certainly more rattled than you were, judging by the way he nearly jumped, and the way his breathing picked up speed.

“Oh, it seems that you’ve already been.” Aegon continued. You pursed your lips in annoyance, while Jacaerys peeked over your shoulders to glare at the other boy.

“We’ve done no such thing,” he said.

“Right, you expect me to believe you when you look like that? Let’s see. Your cheeks are red as Caraxes, you’re panting, and teary-eyed, also not to mention you’re clinging desperately to my sister with your grubby little hands.”

Jacaerys huffed, before letting his hands fall slack at his sides.

You finally turned to face Aegon while he let out a long whistle.

“Don’t look at me like that sister. Before you go and plan my death, know that I have no desire at all to breathe another word about this…to other people at least.” He giggled. “Trust that I will be holding this over your head.” He waved goodbye at the two of you. “Now, then. I must go back to my cups. It’s getting darker and our grandfather will have a harder time looking for me in the dark.”

It was indeed getting dark, the evening slowly turning into night. Several of the courtiers were already making their way inside.

Not letting Aegon disrupt the moment, you held Jahaerys’ by the hand, gently leading him inside the castle.

That night, you woke to the sharp pain of someone's hand digging into your shoulders to rouse you.

“Wake up,” Aegon snarled.

“What do you want?” You groaned, waving away the stench of alcohol that came from him.

“Something's happened. Everyone is gathering at the main hall…a maid sent word of mother's summons. I could hear her crying all the way over here.

You sat up, hastily flinging your legs off the bed.

Aegon made a move towards Helaena.

“Do not wake her,” you said. “She's exhausted.” You pulled him away from her before practically sprinting down the hall.

You and Aegon arrived just as the Maester was finishing up with stitching Aemond's face back together. The sight of the large scar across the left side of his face made you gasp. Tears instantly filled your eyes. “Oh Aemond.” You cried, kneeling down to take a better look at the damage, almost knocking the Maester face down on the ground in your haste.

His eyebrows bunched together and his lips trembled, as you grabbed a hold of his hands, crying about how much pain he must be in.

Alicent asked about how bad the wound was and the Maester said it would heal, but the eye was lost. You wiped at your tears, whispering to Aemond that it will be alright.

You watched as Alicent stomped over to Aegon. “Where were you,” she asked, her eyes blazing.

“Me?” Aegon asked before his head jerked to the side as Alicent slapped him across the face.

You did not listen to whatever she said next. You turned to the Maester and asked if Aemond already had something for the pain.

“I'll prepare it right away, Princess.”

“I'm okay.” Aemond whispered to you, the apparent pain in his voice suggested otherwise.

Rhaenyra and Daemon arrived just moments after Princess Rhaenys and Corlys Velaryon.

When asked about what happened, all the children had started to raise their voice in their defense.

You stood up to the side right next to Aegon while Alicent took your place, screaming for justice while holding on to Aemond's hand.

“Sorry, I wasn't listening, what happened?”

Aegon leaned towards you, but wasn't able to speak at all when Aemond named him as the person who told him the “lies.”

“Me?” He whispered incredulously, horrified.

You stepped away without a word and let your father interrogate him.

You thought about going to Baela and Rhaena instead to ask them what had happened but decided against it since everyone else was speaking over each other, anyway. It was too noisy to have a proper conversation.

The mention of a blade caught your attention and your eyes flickered towards Baela, then at Jacaerys. Both were already looking at you. The former looked apologetic, the latter refused to meet your eye again.

You pursed your lips, almost sucking them in awkwardly as you try to suppress a laugh.

All feelings of irrational amusement vanished when your mother turned to Criston Mole, demanding for Luke's eye as payment.

“Now that's going too far.” You heard Aegon mutter as he sidestepped closer to you.

“How would you feel if your son lost an eye while the offender gets away without repercussions?” You ask, trying to defend your mother. But the desire to defend her vanished when she drew a dagger and resolved to mete out her justice with her own hands.

You tried to pass through men who'd drawn their own swords, but everything happened too fast and blood was already drawn.

Truthfully, you were glad it wasn't much worse. But if Alicent had accidentally slit Rhaenyra's throat, all Seven hells would break loose. You shook your head, disappointed with your mother, though you could not entirely blame her. You weren't a mother, you didn't know how it feels to see your son in such a state. Aemond was your brother, and it pained you to see him like that.

“Do not mourn for me, mother.” He said. He may have lost an eye, but he gained a dragon.

“Dragon? What?” You asked.

“He claimed Vhagar.” Aegon supplied the answer.

You were taken aback, pride filling your chest briefly before recalling the fact that Vhagar was the dragon and Laena Velaryon, therefore her daughter had the right to try and claim the dragon. Aemond must have beaten her to it. It was only natural that Rhaena hadn't claimed Vhagar, for she was still grieving.

Everyone was encouraged to retire to their beds as the matter was settled, though you knew it was not the case for your mother.

You pushed through a crowd and made your way to Rhaenyra. She nodded at you, then towards their chambers urging you to follow.

“Do not look so distressed, sister.” She said when she caught you worrying your lips while she was getting her wound stitched up. First light spilled through the curtains in the window, the sun already rising, everyone else would be getting ready to go back to the Keep.

“You will scar, but the wound will heal. Valyrian steel cuts clean.” The Maester said.

“Don't.” Rhaenyra said with a firm voice. You look up at her only to find her eyes fixed at you firmly. “You worry too much.” She gestured at your bouncing knees, a habit of yours when you are anxious. You swallowed thickly and shifted in your seat.

“I gave them the blade that was used to injure Aemond. If I hadn't, perhaps things wouldn't have escalated so much. You wouldn't have been hurt.”

“If you hadn't given them the blade, he could've seriously hurt my sons.” Rhaenyra answered. “I am sorry for what happened to your little brother. It was a tragic accident. Still, you have my gratitude.”

“He was going to hit Jacaerys with a rock.” Lucerys explained in a timid voice. He hadn't so much as looked at you when you arrived.

You tapped on the table, urging Lucerys to look at you.

“You did what you had to in order to protect your brother. You were very brave, Luke.”

The frown on his face vanished, then he nodded, offering you a hesitant smile that widened when you smiled back at him.

“I'm not sorry that what happened earlier caused Aemond to lose his eye.” Jacaerys said.

“Jace…” Rhaenyra softly admonished.

“But I am sorry for the distress it caused you,” he said, looking into your eyes.

Rhaenyra, with a raised eyebrow observed the two of you. She pursed her lips to hide her growing smile before clearing her throat to call for your attention, her gaze soft. “When I said that your brother should be questioned sharply, I did not mean it. I knew my father would never let it happen. I only wanted to…” she sighed, trailing off. You knew she only wanted to provoke Alicent, and you remember how she took it upon herself to get back at Lucerys, a child merely six years of age.

You shook your head. “We were all distressed, but my mother went too far when she drew a blade against your family and—”

“I will not have you apologizing, again, about offenses that you did not commit.” Rhaenyra cut you off.

“Time and time again, over and over even when you were younger than Luke you apologize for your mother, your brother, your grandfather. Sometimes I wish you weren't such a curious little thing, so adamant in learning about our past. Your knowledge of it has changed your opinions on the people you're supposed to trust the most. Now I ask you, never to apologize again for people who feel not a sliver of remorse for what they've done.” Her voice slightly wavered at the end, still her gaze lingered on you.

The years of harassment and intimidation her sons received for their questionable parentage, Alicent holding her higher status as queen above Rhaenyra's head, going as far as blatantly studying her son right after she gave birth, and Ser Harwin Strong's death.

You wanted to apologize for everything.

You knew the queen held resentment for Rhaenyra who gets to live her life the way she wants, love the person she wants to love, while your mother tried her best to fulfill her duties, ultimately causing her to become bitter when she does not get what she thinks she is owed for playing by the rules.

It doesn't mean that Rhaenyra's family were the only ones who were tested. Though you feel as if every bad fortune that shrouds your family, was a direct consequence of their decisions, not by design of their rivals. You knew about the underhanded tactics your grandfather and mother committed in the past, their own kin told you about it back at Oldtown. You agreed with Rhaenyra. Perhaps if you hadn't been so curious, you'd stay blissfully ignorant and therefore still fiercely loyal to your mother. But then maybe you would treat Jacaerys and his brothers the same way your siblings do, without your affection for their mother to serve as a bridge to their lives. You probably would have been ignoring them for real, at worse, you would have been harassing them as well.

The doors were pushed opened by Laenor Velaryon, stopping in his hurried tracks as he scans the injuries accumulated while he was gone to who-knows-where.

“Gods.” He exclaimed, taking in Jacaerys cuts and bruises, Lucerys’ broken nose, and Rhaenyra's wounded arm.” “Is everyone alright?”

It was the Maester who answered. “A broken nose is the worse.”

Rhaenyra dismissed the Maester. You took this as you que to leave. She called your name and held your gaze. You knew what her look meant. ‘Do not forget what I said.’

You nodded to her and made your way to the door. She then turned towards her sons

“You as well. You've already found enough trouble today.”

“Yes mother.” The two boys said.

Jacaerys grabbed a hold of your wrist the moment the door closed.

“When will you be leaving?” He asked.

You looked around, seeing servants passing by, busy preparing for the king's departure.

“Sooner than I would like.” You said.

“Don't go,” Lucerys begged, wrapping his arms around your waist. He would've buried his face against your stomach if it weren't for his broken nose. Instead he looked up at you imploringly.

“I'll be back. Sooner than you think.” You said. “I won't let them stop me. I'll do as I have always done to get what I want.”

Jacaerys’ shoulders slumped in relief.

“You aren't mad at me? At us?” He asked.

You shook your head, chuckling.

“It takes a lot for me to be mad at someone. You forget how vile my elder brother is. I'd have tons of training already. Though it is useless when it comes to you. You are nothing like them. Nothing.”

“I care for you deeply.” You rubbed circles at Lucerys’ back, while keeping your gaze on Jacaerys’.

Jacaerys engulfed you in a hug, and at that moment, you felt your heart swell with warmth. Then the door opened.

You all jerked at the sound. Rhaenyra chuckled at the sight. “I am glad to see you three are getting along so well.”

Lucerys cheered, delighted at the fact that you weren't going to cut him off for what had happened. Jacaerys was a blushing mess as his mother gave him a knowing look. You stood with your back straight, hands clasped behind your back, seemingly composed, but speechless.

You ignored your less than pleased mother as she shook her head at you before climbing into the carriage after your father.

You were waiting for the entourage to head out, with Jacaerys by your side. Lucerys wanted to see you off too, but you decided against it as things were currently too tense between your families right now and you did not want to risk him losing his eye to some vengeful git. Rhaenyra on the other hand, said she was going to see you off by the cliffside.

Your brothers and sisters were already preparing for the flight home on top of the cliff.

You had already said your goodbyes with the promise of a swift return, but Jacaerys could not help but steal another embrace from you before you made your way back to your siblings.

A/N: Reader is so team black😭🙏 forgive me, readers who are team green. (I'm team Brackenwood...Blacken? Blackwren whatever ship name yall come up with for our favorite enemies to lovers ship.)

Btw, next chapter will be the longest, it will contain romantic tension since they will be of age there. So there's romance, angst, longing, war, death, smut, fluff.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him

Summary: It was normal for most to have their string of fate be tied to their soulmate but what do you do when it's to the Prince of Dragonstone?

A/N: This is female pronouns but if you want male let me know because I tried to make this gender-free and it didn't flow like I wanted it to, also did I name this from something after Twilight? Yes.

Word Count: 2.8k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Jacaerys spent his early days in the warm embrace of his mother Rhaenyra, playing with his siblings and spending time with his father Laenor to learn the skills of how to rule and fight. He was taught what it meant to be Targaryen by his mother and he was taught to be loyal to those he loves and those who love him. He is a dragonlord and that is his heritage; He feels It is his destiny to rule the Iron Throne even as he tries his best to push back the thought of ever actually getting to meet you his soulmate in this life.

Jacaerys woke up earlier than usual and said a prayer at sunrise, getting ready for his busy day ahead of him, he then went to train with the sword for a short time even challenging his brother Lucerys once more, after a few hours he cleaned up before joining his family in the dining hall to eat. He joined in with the light conversation about how his day was going so far and what else he had planned which was just more lessons with the court teachers and some more sparring for a little bit, hearing that in a few days, a royal family would be coming to Dragonstone to show support towards Rhaenyra.

Continuing on with his daily plans over the next few days as he and his family awaited the latest arrival of your family so details could be worked out about the new relationship taking place, after a couple of more days passed by which felt like a blink of an eye which lead Jacaerys to stand outside standing beside his brothers and his mother on the other side of him. The Prince had been told that the family would be visiting it was expected that the proper courtesy for their arrival is done. He dressed himself in a fine doublet, a shirt, pants, and a cloak. His eyes were soft looking as he waited by the docks for your family to disembark from their ship. In his hand, he carried a gift. A book. It was titled 'The History of Valyria' and he thought it a worthy offering something to help understand more about Dragonstone and who your family was siding with.

He greeted every noble that approached him personally, making sure that everyone felt comfortable and welcome at Dragonstone. He was curious about the red string around the hand of one young person in particular. He had heard stories about such things and had not believed them until recently after learning about his mother and stepfather. Jacaerys felt a strange pull in his pinkie. It was like a voice was begging to be heard. He followed it and ended up face-to-face with his soulmate. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He was so overwhelmed, he couldn’t even speak a word. Jacaerys just stood there, mouth open and staring for what felt like an eternity.

He offered his hand for you to take, knowing that there was a bond there that he could not ignore; there was a magic that seemed undeniable. He was curious to know who this young person was, your name, and the name of your House. You were again shushed by your older brother, especially after noticing the prince had walked up to you both, giving him a slight curtsy as you took his hand gently in your own using the hand that didn't have the string but simply held that one behind your back hiding it as you didn't think much about the tightening feeling around your finger again but smiled softly at the dark-eyed prince "Thank you for having me and my family my prince".

When you both held each other's hands, the red string around his own hand began to burn intensely as he felt it tighten around his finger. It was an undeniable feeling, one that neither of you could ignore. A strong, undeniable magic was at work here; he knew that this was not mere coincidence. There was something more at work here; perhaps the gods themselves? "It was a privilege and an honor to host you and your family, my lady. Your name?" He inquired. You bit down on your lower lip feeling the red string tighten around your finger which you had learned years ago from others meant you were very close to your soulmate but still didn't think it was the prince, keeping a sweet smile on your face as your hand stayed in his rough one not even having the thought that enough time had passed and it could be considered improper while than speaking up to answer him "I'm Y/n and this is my older brother Samuel it's a pleasure to meet you and know more about Dragonstone".

You continued to hold onto each other's hands for a long while as if you both were waiting for something. It was clear to Jacaerys in that very moment that there was something special about you, Y/n, which was his destiny. When he looked deeply into your eyes for the first time, his heart began to race and his pulse quickened. He knew he was experiencing something magical, something supernatural and beyond his understanding. He knew that this red string was a symbol that you were destined for each other; this was not a mere coincidence. This was magic. This was beyond your understanding of the natural world. This was love. He leaned in closer to you, noticing the red string around your finger. This felt like a sign from the gods; it was not natural, not ordinary, that you would share the same strange red string around one another, both sensing its tightening. It was not possible unless the gods wished it to be so. He smiled. "It is a pleasure as well, my lady. Do you enjoy your stay on Dragonstone so far?"

You finally looked away from his dark-colored eyes letting your eyes take in the beauty before you that was Dragonstone, nodding your head at his words smiling lightly that you could be here and experience such a new beauty then looked back to him as you spoke softly with a honey-smooth tone "It's very lovely my prince I'm happy to be here and see it for myself it's nothing like my home".

He raised his right hand and gently placed it on your cheek. It was an instinct born from a deep connection that he was sensing. The red string had led you to one another, and he could not help a natural inclination to touch her, to feel her warmth, to feel her beauty. The red string was a sign of destiny. He smiled at her, and he felt his heart beating faster. "Yes, you are truly fortunate. The island has a rich history and is the seat of our family and has been ever since our first king Aegon the Conqueror built his castle here. I am honored to live in such a grand and glorious place." He spoke while extending his arm offering you to take his hand to walk with him. "Shall I show you around?" He asked as if he couldn't wait to be alone with you especially to ask about the string around your own finger.

He smiles fondly and gives your hand a kiss, his expression soft and endearing. "I would be delighted to show you around. Dragonstone is large, there is much to see and I am sure you'd love it." He started to lead you down one of the numerous stone walkways which lead from the palace to various parts of the island. He would walk with you for hours, sharing all kinds of interesting anecdotes about Dragonstone and its rich history. At every opportunity, he would gently squeeze your hand, and in time his feelings toward you would begin to bloom.

Even as a few days passed by Jacaerys and you had become inseparable even with him meant to another woman who seemed kind and perfect for him, you were meant to leave in a few days but had been enjoying your time in Dragonstone and learning everything you could about it, walking alone along the shoreline taking in the quiet sound of the waves crashing as you stopped in your tracks and closed your eyes with a small smile on your face taking in the peace and tranquility of the moment that you couldn't be met with anywhere else in her life. Having met Jacaerys betrothed Baela and even congratulated them both on the engagement choosing to ignore your feelings and the fact you were in fact tied to the dark-haired male as his soulmate but kept your mouth shut and didn't speak a word about it to anyone since you didn't want to make a fuss or cause any problems for your newest friend who was already meant for someone else.

He could not stop thinking about you. He wondered why he couldn't get you out of his head, why were you so much on his mind. He was in a difficult position; he was supposed to marry Baela, and he did have feelings for Baela, but not the same kind of feelings that he had with you. He had never met a female so beautiful and he was having difficulty dealing with these conflicting emotions. This was a confusing situation, and he was unsure how best to move forward. It had been a few days since he had met you. Your encounter had stayed in his mind since then never having this effect on him before when he met almost anyone else; he could not help but think of you and wonder whether such a sudden and intense connection with someone he had just met was even possible. He couldn't help but think about how it felt when he had held your hand; there was an undeniable and magnetic connection between the two of you, something that was beyond normal or reasonable - but for some reason, it made perfect sense to him. He couldn't help but wonder whether you still thought of him as much as he thought of you.

You knew you were meant to be the perfect lady and have all the best manners which for the most part you had, but right at this moment before you had to be around people again and charm everyone as the great youngest in your family you willingly sat down in the sand throwing caution to the wind and didn't care if sand or water dirtied or ruined your dress as you simply crossed your arms and rested them against your knees as you stared out into the setting sun sky still listening to the calming sound of the waves even with a rumble from a dragon every once in a while you gently started toying with the red string on your finger wondering what your life would've been like if you both had met sooner. Jace had been sitting in his room, thinking of you and your soft eyes and gentle voice. He could not help but think of you and wonder what you were doing which caused problems during his duties. He glanced out of the window only to do a double take, and he saw you on the beach far away. His heart raced. A feeling of destiny came over him, and he felt the urge to go and see you. He got up and started to walk to you, and all his senses seemed to be leading him to you. He wanted to see you again, and he couldn't help but wonder if you felt the same way.

Feeling like you couldn't help but wonder what life would've been like knowing all it was going to do was hurt your feelings since you figured he was already engaged and you wouldn't be the one standing beside him, feeling disgruntled only to finally tear your eyes off the red string around your fingers choosing to willingly ignore the harsh tugging and stinging that just proved Jacaerys was around you as you stared out into the calming sea curious as to how life would play out for you now or who you would be with instead of your soulmate. The dark-haired prince approached you and sat down beside you. He leaned back, looking out over the waves with you. He turned to you watching you play with the red string around your fingers. He couldn't help but notice how beautiful you were in the sunlight. You were breathtaking, and there was a gentleness and calmness to your personality that made him like you all the more. He reached over and gently took your hand in his. "Can we talk?."

Exhaling as the longing hit harder than before once he took your hand in his own again before counting to four, slowly opening your eyes as you turned toward him slightly and smiled the best that you could then raised a brow as you tilted your head curiously as to what he could possibly need from you "Whatever about my prince?", Chossing to just keep things as normal as possible even if your eyes glanced down as saw the red string on you both but bit down on your lower lip not speaking a word about it. He gently placed his other hand under your chin and raised your face up so that he could look into your eyes. He felt you had the most beautiful soulful eyes that he had ever seen. They were like two pools of sunshine that made his heart beat faster. "Y/n. I think… I think we are meant to be together." He spoke softly, not wanting to startle you or say something that might cause you to run away. You were perfect, and he wanted to be with you. "You are my soulmate…"

You couldn't help but lean into his tender hold against your face as you looked into his dark brown eyes wondering if you would ever feel the same bliss by looking into anyone else's eyes, feeling your heart pound wildly in your chest at his words not saying anything back knowing your family wouldn't be pleased if you spoke and ruined anything for him or his family if you chose yourself over the good of the realm. Gently shaking your head as you slowly pulled away closing your eyes knowing the words he said were true but didn't know what to say other than letting him down which only caused you to clear your throat as you muttered "No, I don't believe so you are with Lady Baela she's your soulmate…not I."

He sat there stunned. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps it was all a lie. Perhaps the red string was just a trick. But he knew the truth; he had felt it. You were his soulmate. He would not give up that easily. "Y/n…You are my soulmate. I can feel it just like I feel like your the breath in my lungs. I don't know how I know it, but I do. You can deny it all you want, but I know that it is true." He spoke softly, hoping you would come to see the truth as he saw it. You slowly looked over at him taking in every little thing about him even as silence took over conversation, feeling as if you were falling in love with him before you gave him a gentle smile as you shook your head knowing no matter how much it hurt you couldn't have him unless something deetrimental happened in your lives "Even so…It won't happen you must know that don't you?". Looking back out to the crashing waves as you played with the red string once more and spoke quietly "You know I used to dream about this moment, meeting my other half and falling in love being happy together….Not once did I ever believe it could hurt this much to meet you."

He was stunned by your words. You were supposed to be his destiny. You were supposed to be his soulmate. He could not give up that easily. If your fates were intertwined, something would happen that would bring you together. "I know I must marry Baela, there is no denying that. But I cannot deny that I have met my soulmate in you. You and I share something unique and special that has brought us together for a reason that neither of us can understand. Don't deny it. Please don't ignore the truth." How could he live knowing that he had met his soulmate and was unable to marry you? How could he live knowing that you wouldn't by his side? There was no world he could live in where you were not by his side. "Y/n, please. You cannot deny this feeling." He spoke softly to you. "You know it is true. If things were different, we would not be feeling this way." Why did your lives have to be this way? Why did fate want to separate you?

"We must find a way…"

[myprincejacaerys]

Rhaenyra & Jacaerys Part I 👑🥀🖤

“You never love anything in the world the way you love your first child”

Remember, older Rhaenyra was not the one to give birth to him. It was young Rhaenyra, the same one who had no seeming interest in marriage, and even less so in birthing children. Childbirth was something she resented in youth, being brought up to see her mother suffering day after day, month after month, year after year, constantly facing pregnancy and agonising childbirth with nothing but damage, pain and devastation to show for it.

Then, after her very first terrifying pregnancy, Rhaenyra gives birth to Jacaerys, and she finally understands what she never did with her mother’s failed pregnancies. When she holds her newborn for the first time, she falls in love with him in a way she has never loved anyone else before. For the first time in so long, Rhaenyra is no longer alone. I firmly believe one of the reasons she overcame her fear of pregnancy and children was because of how much birthing Jace changed her views on everything.

She did not know it then, but Jacaerys would one day become one of her most dangerous weapons, her most loyal and devoted follower, and most importantly – her rock. It may be argued that the above is more accurately applicable to Daemon, whom she married for all of those reasons. Yes, Daemon is her most dangerous weapon, but the rest? No. Daemon is unpredictable. He keeps everyone, including Rhaenyra on her toes. His love, like is anger, is a dangerous thing. He argues with her, he challenges her, and his faith and devotion in her wavers at time, demonstrated in both the book and the show with his Intention to take the throne for himself in Harrenhall and his relationship with Nettles. Jacaerys would rather gouge out his own eyes and set himself on fire than betray his mother. After Lucerys’ death, and once Daemon left for Harrenhall, It was Jace who took charge of matters in Dragonstone.

He was the one to secure the support of multiple houses, flying himself up to Lady Jayne Arryn in The Vale and the formidable Cregan Stark in The North, who was so endeared by him that they made a pack of brotherhood, known to be called as the “Pack of Ice and Fire”. Remember, Cregan Stark is ultimately the reason Aegon iii, Rhaeynra’s remaining heir even became King. It was Jacaerys who secured the futures of his siblings, arranging a valuable marriage to gain White Harbor’s favour by betrothing Joffrey to Desmond Manderly’s youngest daughter. It was Jacaerys that reconciled Corlys with his mother and named him her Hand after he become estranged to her, angered by the death of his wife. Once they began plotting an attack on Kings Landing together, he was the one to send Joffrey to the Vale for his protection. Most importantly, and I cannot believe how they handled this in the show, Jacaerys was the one to come up with the idea of discovering dragonseeds for their riderless dragons. He was the one to address them when they arrived to dragonstone, and claimed whoever was bold enough to claim a dragon would “have the honour of fighting beside The Prince of Dragonstone” himself.

Lastly, he wrote to the Prince of Pentos, and arranged to have his youngest siblings Aegon and Viserys sent there for their protection. As much as the show likes to push for this agenda, Rhaenyra did not do any of these things. Almost every cool thing Team Black has done this season was actually something stolen from Jacaerys’ character, including when Daemon called Vhagar a “hoary old bitch”. That was Jace’s quote. He was Rhaenyra’s rock, and without him, Team black would not have stood a chance. His death was a “terrible loss” for Rhaenyra’s team, so much so that Team Green almost believed they had one the war because of his death.

“Broken after the loss of one son, Rhaenyra Targaryen seemed to find new strength after the loss of a second. Jace's death hardened her, burning away her fears, leaving only her anger and hatred.” - Writings of Gyldayn.

[atopvisenyashill]

Killing Jaehaera off was completely unnecessary and it would've been better if she was the mother of Aegon III's kids.

I personally would have loved it he had married Jaehaera and Daenaera because I think there's room in the narrative for both girls.

I think the reason George changed it (besides getting invested in the Velaryons as he wrote out the backstory) was because he wanted some sort of commentary on the lasting legacy of the Dance - Aegon usurps his sister and kicks off a whole violent war for the throne, only for his line to end with a mad little girl, and then die off completely. Rhaenyra lets revenge color her actions during the war and adds to the death, misery, and escalation of violence all so her line can descend from her only for the history books to record that they descend from Daemon, and there’s nothing Aegon III can do to change it. In a way, despite everything, the lines of both Rhaenyra and Aegon end with them. This war that claimed the lives of their children, their lovers, their families, was completely fruitless and useless; all that's left at the end is orphans, and history books that will call Aegon and Rhaenyra both usurpers. It's very sad commentary, for sure, but I get why it was so important to George to kill Jaehaera off (to a certain extent). It's just he did it in the most George way possible lmao and it doesn't hit the way I think he intended it to.

But it could have! Which is so frustrating! He could have 100% had them both in the narrative easily - just have Daenaera be a lady of the court and a friend of Jaehaera's! Jaehaera can take in Daenaera as a lady to help smooth things over with that branch of the Velaryons (who are probably still pissed off because Alyn is a bastard and everyone in Westeros hates Baela for doing #HotGirlShit). Jaehaera is mother to Daeron, Baelor, and Daena, and kills herself/is murdered right after Daena is born. I think having a daughter of her own is an interesting trigger for her trauma - like, your husband having the same cursed name as your father who died miserable and alone, with only you for family, and then watching your husband hold your first daughter? More than enough to trigger an episode, and leave it vague as whether she threw herself onto the spikes or someone simply took advantage of her being scared and alone & pushed her.

Maiden’s Day happens and there's a lot of nerves because the last time the King got remarried, the Dance happened. Different circumstances because Aegon has two sons, to be sure, but I'm positive half the realm is thinking "what if he chooses wrong and we get another Otto Hightower." Baela and Rhaena present Aegon’s new bride, then point to the beautiful but quiet, also grieving Daenaera Velaryon, and Aegon just accepts it because he knows Daenaera won’t oppose Jaehaera’s children (they were friends, also Daenaera is now scarred by the violence of Jaehaera’s death). Daenaera is as uninterested in him as he is in her; the twins present a way for him to remarry without forcing him out of his comfort zone (which neither Aegon nor Jaehaera ever liked to be) while backing Daenaera into an offer she can’t refuse. Continuing on the use of traumatized women as pawns, the twins clawing for their own power and relevancy as the Regents, Small Council, and now even Aegon’s sons steal it away from them, a move that is as “girlboss” esque for them as it horrifying for Daenaera. This way, you still get the Blackfyres descending from Jaehaera (and the Greens), you get the Velaryons in there more, you get Maiden's Day and Daenaera.

I think this scenario - where Jaehaera is mother to Daena and the Blackfyres, and Daenaera to the two youngest girls - doesn't make a huge difference in the grand plan, BUT it does make some things more interesting. It adds a really interesting echo from Viserys I and Rhaenyra’s children to Aegon’s - how easily these bonds between half siblings can be turned sour if only their lives are just a bit different. Daena, daughter of Jaehaera, falling to the generational Targaryen curses of dying young, of accidentally kicking off a succession crisis simply because she desired sexual agency. Elaena, daughter of Daenaera, escaping these curses through her politicking, her skill, siding against the nephew she adores and helped raise to try to escape Daena and Jaehaera’s fates. Not to mention having Aegon II’s line end with his daughter, then morph into the usurping Blackfyres is a great narrative choice!

It’s all right there!! The themes!!! It all goes back and back, this family enacting continent destroying violence against each other all for the privilege of sitting on that ugly, spiky chair. But no we get Daenaera the hot six year old instead. SmFh.

[bucknastysbabe]

Hiii can you write anything where like the reader is Aemond’s older sister, she’s kinda a bitch to him (in the way older sisters always are, not like vile just rude and sometimes mean but like in a ��only I can make fun of him” way), but they’re betrothed and it’s their wedding night and she’s nervous

Lmfao I love Aemond and characterizing his persona of I Am The Toughest Targ Ever But I Am Socially Awkward. Thanks for the request, hope you enjoy xoxo

Get a load of this guy!

Rating: Explicit at the end. Other than that SFW

Tags: Teasing, Incest, Frottage, pnv!sex, Aemond’s religious issues, Aemond’s social issues, targaryen!Sister, background sibling stuff aka Aegon is still an idiot, she’s mean but loves him

You poked him in the shoulder in court. More of a jab really. Aemond’s sulky purple eyes glared at you. He mouthed, “What?” You smirked and leaned down, as he hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet and whispered, “Bow a bit harder to father and you might lick his boots next time.”

Aegon dissolved into a fit of snickers, hiding his smile behind a ringed hand. Helaena held hands with mother, staring off into the distance. Aemond grimaced and hissed, “Very funny. At least I show some decency.” He held his pointed chin up high, but you could see the embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

You grinned and shoved him, earning a sharp look from mother.

You sat with your father and Lord Strong, watching Aemond twirl his sword around. You had to admit he had…grown into a handsome young man. He was your betrothed. At some point it might’ve been Jacaerys, but that ended long ago with the loss of your brother’s eye. Seeing your nephew gawk at the much more skilled, handsome, and elegant Aemond made you not question the betrothal one bit.

“Nephews? Have you come to train,” he called with that dead serious look he always held.

The boys looked apt to soil their breeches. You would too, especially if you were little Luke. They stared in shock. You smirked and leaned over the stone, shouting, “Better run lads! Aemond here is of the touchy sort!” That got a smile on their face but a sword pointed up at you.

Your brother frowned deeply, brow furrowed. He sourly replied, “You’re a very becoming jester sister!” You shrugged and laughed, Viserys’ own laughing dissolving into a haggard cough. Aemond snapped back around to get settled by Ser Criston. He was so easy to rile up, regardless of how Aemond tried to act calm and collected.

Still, he was doing better than drunkard Aegon. Drunkard Aegon was entertaining in his own ways, but no fit for a king. Everyone knew that. You hoped Rhaenyra could take the throne and that was that. Emphasis on hoped.

Your mother had informed you that the wedding was to be rushed forward. She claimed both you and your brother were past age to procreate, since Hel and Aegon had already pushed out three. You raised a brow, wondering if Alicent considered she was 19 when she had Aegon. Aemond was eighteen and you twenty. Plenty of time.

“No more questions my child,” Alicent said.

You nodded, flexing your fingers to stare at your nails. It was something to focus on. Viserys’ ill health was the real reason. You opened your mouth to speak, earning a smack to the hand.

Still you uttered.

“Aemond know?”

“Yes.”

Fuck.

Aegon was plastered. Again. But that was perfect for you to get any information on your soon-to-be forever twerp’s sexual history. He lazed on a bench in Maegor’s Holdfast, stinking of the streets and sex. You wrinkled your nose and kicked him in the thigh.

He spluttered and hazy violet eyes stared up at you. Aegon sleepily slurred, “Whahyowan?” Rolling your eyes you sat down and tucked your legs to the side. You probably smelt of dragon, hopefully the dullard wouldn’t puke. Petting back his wild locks you said, “You took Aemond to a brothel, yes?”

His pouty lips curled into a tipsy grin, manic laugh bubbling out into the high ceiling. Aegon mused, “Yea! Like a’lil maid’n!” You moved your gloved hand in jerks to get him to keep talking. Aegon sat up a little and hummed, “Ya’ scared Aem’s gonna be impotent?” He shrugged, “Refused ta’ go back w’me but he can get the job done, dear sis!”

You flatly stared while the prince giggled and slapped his knee in hysteria.

“Ha-ha very funny Aegon. Good news he’ll be able to get it up,” you poked him, “Unlike someone I know!” Aegon gaped for a moment before laughing harder, clutching his stomach. You couldn’t help but join in with him, he had always kept you laughing.

A couple days before the wedding you approached Aemond in the library. He was pouring over scrolls per usual, one eye intense and rapidly moving across the words. He stiffened and sat up, primly addressing you, “Princess.”

You hopped onto the wooden table, placing your hand over his readings. Aemond huffed, crossing his arms and pursing fine lips. In an exasperated tone he asked, “Will you drop the terrorizing older sibling act when we are to be wed?” You almost laughed in his face before registering the tone of uncertainty, the dead honesty in his eye.

Slowly, softly, and quite nervously you placed your hand over his much bigger one. Aemond inhaled sharply, tilting his blonde head away. You sighed, “You know I mean nothing by teasing you right? It’s just fun to see the golden child get flustered.”

Aemond narrowed his one eye, lovely hair swaying as he snapped his head up, but didn’t move his hand away. He stated, “Golden child. Hm.” His jaw ticked as the second son thought over your words. You leaned in with a secretive smile, whispering, “Well obviously Aegon’s not fit and Hel is taking care of his kids, playing with bugs.”

Aemond scoffed at your dismissal of Helaena. He filled in, cocking his head, “What does that make you then? The troublesome elder sister who should’ve had offspring by now?” You smacked his shoulder lightly in dismay.

“Easy now Aemond,” you teased. His lips quirked slightly, that cute blush from embarrassment rearing it’s head. He stared at you quietly, cheeks pinkened. You raised a brow, nervously joking, “What? Why are you looking like that?”

The chair scraped back with a jolt, you yelped and jumped in surprise. Aemond’s big hands covered your shoulders as hard lips pressed to your own. He softened slightly, you moving your lips against his own. Your hand came up to tilt his head so his nose would stop mashing against yours. Little fool.

The kiss grew heated, Aemond’s hands squeezing softly. He tentatively lapped against your tongue, you gasping in excitement. The pair of you lazily moved together, pressing closer and closer. Your brother made a soft sigh, twirling his tongue against your own. You spread your legs to let him closer. He grunted and gripped harder, growing desperate. When you reached down to palm his hard length Aemond pulled back with a sharp gasp, readjusting himself.

You gasped in shock, biting out, “The hells Aem? Something wrong with you?”

He heaved, composing himself back to that cold demeanor. Aemond declared snootily, “We must wait until our wedding. As the gods intended.” A purple eye flicked down while he continued, “I think it’s best if you go for now.”

You were annoyed now. The bastard got you riled up and your cunt wet. What did it matter if the wedding was days away? You snapped, “Others take you! Do you always have to be so damn proper? Imp.”

Indignantly hopping down the table you couldn’t help but feel scorned, tugging your stays into place. Aemond stood stiff as a board, like his obviously interested cock in his trousers. He avoided your angry glare. You scoffed and stomped off. Atleast you knew he was hung.

You were properly wed now. Also very clothed with your nuisance of a brother pacing around— clothed too. He had forbidden the usual bawdy act of the bedding ceremony. Aegon had loudly complained the entire time, damn pervert. Nerves shook your body. Aemond muttered to himself, “Okay. Duty. I will fulfill my duty.”

You began to take off your beautiful dress, a bit dejected at his utilitarian approach to this. You had hoped the passion he had in the kiss earlier this week would come back.

Once your second stocking was off Aemond stopped pacing and gawked at you. He deadpanned, “What are you doing?” You spat, “Undressing myself so you can ‘fulfill your duty’ husband!” He looked upset, lips pursing in distaste. Aemond said almost imperceptibly, “Wait.”

You stopped and raised a brow. He came closer, now much larger frame crowding your own. He murmured, “That’s my job to undress my wife.” Your gaze softened, a hand reaching blindly for Aemond’s calloused one. You squeezed his hand gently.

As if struck by a force Aemond lifted and pushed you onto the bed. He yanked off his boots frantically, calling, “One second, okay? Stay still.” You couldn’t help but laugh, some of the nerves dissipating at the rigid brother hopping around stripping like a madman. Your laugh stopped as his hardened body was revealed to your eyes.

Fuck. He was handsome. That cock was terrifying to think about fitting inside of you. He stilled and asked, “I know I’m all scarred-,” you interrupted and hissed, “Take off the damn patch and undress me like you promised.”

He did so and busied himself ridding your dress and underclothes with steady hands. You complimented, “I love the sapphire, dolt.” He smacked your bare ass, yanking off your chemise. You moaned at the sharp pain, cunt beginning to ache.

Aemond flipped you over and crawled onto the bed, his sureness melting away. Like your own as the gravity of the situation hit you. Man and wife, naked as the day they were born, about to consummate their union. You shook with anxiety, panting under his strong body.

Aemond blinked slowly before saying, “It’s just your ‘imp’ of a brother, relax.” You closed the gap between your faces, closing into his lips like before. Aemond settled between your thighs, hard cock slotting against your bare cunt. Both of you gasped into the kiss, hands running wild across pale bodies. You deepened the kiss, licking inside Aemond’s warm mouth.

He responded with a low noise and a rut against your slick entrance. The tip of his cock drug against your bundle of nerves, drawing a surprised whine out of you. Aemond seemed to smile against your mouth, doing it again, even grabbing your hips to get a better angle.

You wrapped your thighs around his slim waist, moaning softly. Everything felt so nice. You nipped Aemond’s lip and begged, “Aem, Aem, ah- kiss my neck?” He hummed and lowered his mouth down your jaw and to the sensitive thin skin of your throat.

You threw your head back and let out a long whine, rutting back against him roughly. Your belly was tightening like it did when you pleasured yourself late, late at night. Aemond groaned quietly, sucking a mark onto your collarbone, one of his hands curiously groping your breast.

Your clit was growing more sensitive from the friction, gasping out, “Fuck! Aemond you better not stop!” He laughed breathily, “I won’t dear sister.” He snapped his hips a couple more times before you cried out and locked your thighs tight around him. Your cunt pulsed and wetted further along his cock.

Aemond groaned, “Gods, fucking hells. I need to fuck you.”

You nodded in a heated daze, begging, “Yes, yes, fuck me brother.”

He reached down to ease himself in, breathing going stuttered and harsh. You whined at the pinch, clinging to his wide shoulders, grabbing onto long blonde hair. He slid in until fully seated as best as he could in your tight pussy, desperately panting and kissing.

“Oh my,” was all he could utter.

The pair of you kissed until Aemond began to stroke into your now relaxed body. The pain had subsided, your slick easing the way. He gritted out against you, “Not- fuck- going to last my lady.” You babbled, “Don’t care, go wild you idiot.” He growled and wetly slapped harder into you, balls hitting your ass. You smiled— still so easy to piss off that one.

Aemond roughly fucked you, focusing all his energy like in the training yard. You yanked at his silky strands, moaning with abandon, crying his name with delight.

“That’s it! Fuck! Yes brother!”

Aem slapped your ass again, biting your lip until it bled. He groaned, “Yeah? Good?” You nodded with an echo, “Yes, s’good!” Aemond’s eye seemed to roll up as he fucked deeper, face falling to the sweaty crook of your neck. He grabbed so hard at your waist it would bruise later, snapping his hips with feral grunts.

You praised him along, the twitching of his cock growing more frequent. Aemond panted, “Close.” Squeezing around his length, you kissed at the tender scar around the bad eye. Your younger brother slammed into you a final time, filling you with his hot seed. The blonde rasped your name in a low timbre, mumbling nonsense as he shook.

He relaxed and slumped onto you, petting your hair in a haze. You’d never seen your brother so worn out, pliant. He sucked in breath, palms soothing the skin where he was practically tearing at your waist. You sighed at the feeling of completeness. It was done, and quite fantastic at that.

You couldn’t help but pinch Aemond’s sharp cheek and tease, “If only you fucked as well as you interact with others.” His annoyed grumble lit up your heart. So, so easy.

[miss-starlet]

♤ Bury Your Head Prologue ♤

Prince of Darkness! Yang Jeongin × Princess! Younger Sister of Chan! Y/N

Release Date: Early June

Word Count: 700+

Warning: Devil! I.N, light mention of blood, and talks of killing the uncle

The biting cold of midwinter's wind cut through Chan mercilessly, sending shivers down his spine as he quickly walked to the chapel.

The chapel was nestled in the back of the garden that was located on the side of the royal palace. It was once filled with lavish detail and decor, but under his uncle's reign as king, he sold what could make him more money, and made sure the rest went to ruin. The ornate details on the door were weathered, the stained glass windows shattered and broken, and long vines of ivy crept unchecked along its outer brick. Chan was well aware that if his uncle's reign over the kingdom continued, it would be the end of their kingdom and people, just like this old chapel. He was willing to do anything that was necessary, even the most drastic measures for his uncle's end.

Swinging open the heavy wooden doors, he gets to work. He sits the book he brought with him down on the pew and lights every candle located still in the building. Chan then cracked open the ancient book that contained how to contact spirits and demons. As if the book knew, it flipped open to the precise page he sought. Kneeling on the dusty wooden floor, he etched the symbols shown in chalk before meticulously laying down a protective salt line. Afterwards, he studied the arcane words, reading and whispering them under his breath again and again to ensure their accuracy. Before he loudly echoed the words on the page.

He shivered from the cold air that drifted in the chapel. Yet the cold wasn't enough to distract him from the loud pounding of his heart. It should have worked by now, why hasn't he appeared? Chan threw the book on the floor devastated, he failed his people. Then suddenly the candle's flames went out with a fleeting gust of wind leaving Chan in darkness for a few seconds before reigniting. The sound of hushed whispers he can barely make out before it's back to quiet. Then the chapels doors swung open with a forceful push, revealing the entrance of a striking man dressed in black silk.

The man started taking slow deliberate steps towards Chan. The sound of his shoes echoed around the chapel. The soft colored light from the moon and candles creates a radiant glow upon him, one akin to an angel bathed in celestial light. Each movement of the satin fabric he wore seemed to amplify the ethereal effect. Pausing just before the salt line, he fixed his gaze on Chan and introduced himself, “ I am the prince of darkness, the devil, yet 'Jeongin' will suffice for now.” After the introduction, he steps over the salt line, still heading towards Chan. Chan flinged back and commanded the being, “Stop.” Jeongin stopped for a moment, smirking.

“I am Bang Chan, the prince of Lavender. I seek my uncle's demise, grant me the throne and the title of eternal king," he proclaimed. Jeongin's pauses momentarily, as if he didn't expect that request. "While I cannot claim your soul, I shall instead claim something that holds even greater value than your kingdom and its inhabitants."

Chan didn’t know what to think about this, he was unsure of what could be more important and grand than the state of the people who lived in the kingdom. He cared for his siblings, yes, but they are not more profound than the fate of his people.

Without delay, Jeongin unsheathed his sword attached to his belt, causing Chan to take another step back nervously. He watches the demon slice his palm open before roughly grabbing Chan's hand. Pulling him closer before flipping his hand back to see his palm before repeating the action, before clasping their hands together. They shaked each other's hands, their blood mixed together, sealing the deal.

"Your uncle will be dead by morning, and as for my offering…” Jeongin withdrew his hand, fixing Chan with a chilling smirk. “I will take it when you least expect it." He declared, his tone ominous, leaving Chan wondering if he did the wrong thing. Jeongin turned, and walked out the wooden doors. The candles blew out once more, leaving Chan back in darkness.