#lucerys: 01 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

s-lverwing · 25 days

Text

01. SIN

pairing. aegon targaryen x velaryon (targaryen)!reader x maelor targaryen (aegon’s twin).

summary. thoughts weight heavier than ever as you realize what’s expected from you; having a secret relationship with the king’s heir isn’t one. destiny can be defied, but duty must be followed.

word count. 4.8k (sorry). ao3 link

warnings. angst, targcest (niece and uncle), manipulation, toxic relationships. heavy pinning. kind of infidelity? english isn’t my first language and i haven’t read the books.

a/n. i got this idea from watching domina hehe and i thought it would be fun to explore this little idea i had of aegon having a twin brother that looks like a hightower. i stretched a bit what happens from driftmark until viserys dies, since i was missing more years . so this is aegon being 18-19 me and the reader is one or two years younger than him . and helaena and aegon aren’t paired yet because i don’t have the heart to make her bear children at 14 yo .

The night was still, as if the very walls of the Red Keep were holding their breath. Not even the usual footfalls of the royal guards echoed through the dim lighted corridors, nor did the familiar murmur of chambermaids’ gossip snake its way to your ears. The rat catchers had already done their work in the lower floors, leaving behind a silence that felt as suffocating as it was unusual.

Yet it wasn’t the silence that weighed so heavily on your heart—it was something deeper, something that clawed at your insides and left an acrid taste in your mouth. The Red Keep, once a place of grandeur and life, now seemed to pulse with a strange, ominous energy. You could feel it in the air, thick and oppressive, and you couldn’t help but link it to King Viserys’ worsening condition. He was a shadow of his former self, a walking corpse whose very presence seemed to taint the air with decay. The stench of his rotting flesh clung to him like a shroud, especially when mixed with the smell of milk of the poppy. He was nothing but a walking dead, a man who no longer belonged among the living. It almost served as a reminder of the state of the Kingdom.

The court was no longer the vibrant place of your childhood memories. It was a place of whispers and shadows, of secrets buried so deep they festered in the dark. You could feel the weight of those secrets pressing down on you, a burden you were not ready to carry but could no longer ignore. The responsibilities you had once tried to deny now loomed over you like a dark cloud.

And then there was Aegon. The mere thought of him brought a new kind of tension to your chest, one that was equal parts longing and dread. What you shared with him was a dangerous game, one that could end badly only for you. The risk was immense, but so too was the pull you felt towards him—a pull you could not resist, no matter how much you knew you should. You knew all too well what would happen if the rumors spread, if someone caught the two of you in a compromising position. There was no place for such reckless passion in the Red Keep, no room for fleeting romances or secret rendezvous. Not when you weren’t cunning enough to know how to hide away from their prying eyes. You were being watched, judged, and weighed against the expectations of a world that would crush you if you strayed too far from the path laid out before you.

Ser Otto Hightower’s words echoed in your mind, a constant reminder of the duty and honor that were supposed to guide you. He had been the only Hightower to show you any semblance of kindness after Lucerys had taken Aemond’s eye. It was a kindness that clung to your memory like a fragile, half-forgotten dream, overshadowed by the cruel realities that had since unfolded. Like a small mercy.

You couldn’t help but feel trapped, suffocating under the weight of expectations you had never wanted. And yet, you could not bring yourself to let go of Aegon, no matter how much you knew you should. The risk, the danger, the sheer madness of it all only seemed to draw you closer to him, even as you felt the noose tightening around your neck.

And as you stood there, alone in the drowning darkness of your chamber, you couldn’t help but wonder how much longer you could keep this up—how much longer you could pretend that everything was fine when, deep down, you knew that everything was about to fall apart.

The quiet creak of the wooden doors took you away from your thoughts, but you didn’t turn from the window. The night outside was as dark and impenetrable as your own thoughts. You didn’t need to look to know who had entered; Aegon’s footsteps were as familiar to you as the beating of your own heart, an echo of years spent together in a world that seemed increasingly distant now. His scent, a heady mix of wine and something uniquely him, filled the room, bringing with it an uneasy comfort that had long since become part of you since this started.

He approached with a lazy grace, as if the world and all its troubles were mere trifles to him. His arms snaked around your waist, drawing you back against him, his head finding its place on your bare shoulder. The cool night air from the window kissed your skin, but his warmth was a balm you hadn’t realized you’d been seeking. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, a fleeting gesture that could be mistaken for affection, followed by a soft chuckle that was as intoxicating as it was disarming.

Aegon was in good spirits tonight, or so it seemed. His presence was magnetic, his charm an irresistible force that pulled you into his orbit despite the undercurrent of dread that always lurked beneath the surface. You knew this tenderness, however sweet, was a precarious thing—a mask that could slip at any moment to reveal the tempest underneath. Yet you leaned into him, seeking solace in the closeness even as it threatened to unravel everything you held together so carefully.

But then, like a gust of wind extinguishing a flame, his smile faded, replaced by a frown that marred his angelic features. You didn’t need to see his face to feel the change, to sense the tension coiling in his body as if he were holding onto something fragile, something that could slip through his fingers and shatter beyond repair.

It was as though he was clutching at a dream, trying to hold onto a world that was slipping away from him. And you, too, were caught in that current, powerless to change the course of the storm that was surely coming. The weight of unspoken words, of a future that neither of you could control.

“You’re far away,” Aegon whispered, his voice barely breaking the stillness that had settled over the room like a heavy shroud.

Before he could say more, you gently took one of his hands, bringing it to your lips and pressing a tender kiss to his knuckles. His skin was warm, soft, since he strayed away from sword training. It felt weird, as though the chasm that had opened between you was something that could not be bridged by mere touch. “I’m tired,” you murmured, the exhaustion lacing your voice with a fragility that felt almost foreign to you. “It’s been a long day.”

Aegon’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze probing as he turned you around with an effortless grace that belied the tension simmering beneath his calm exterior. “What’s on your mind?” he asked, his tone soft yet edged with something darker, an undercurrent of fear, perhaps. His hands lingered on your waist, grounding you, but also anchoring you to him and the chaos that comes with it.

A sad smile tugged at your lips. You searched for the right words, the right way to explain the gnawing dread that had taken root in your heart. It wasn’t your intention to hurt him, but how could you speak the truth without doing so? “I worry,” you confessed, each word heavy with the weight of unspoken fears. “I worry about everything. In fact, I think I often worry enough for the both of us.”

Your words hung in the air, a fragile admission that seemed to echo in the stillness of the chamber. The night was your sanctuary, the time when you could be together without the prying eyes of the Red Keep, even from the Gods, yet even this sacred space was not immune to the growing tension that lay between you. You felt the strain of it, pulling at the threads of your bond, threatening to unravel the delicate balance you had managed to maintain for so long.

Aegon’s expression darkened, his eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t quite grasp. His brow furrowed, as if he were trying to understand a riddle that had no answer, his grip on your waist tightening imperceptibly. “You worry too much,” he said finally, his voice barely masking the frustration that simmered just beneath the surface. “You worry about things that don’t matter, that will never matter”

But the conviction in his voice, once so reassuring, now felt hollow. You could hear the echo of doubts in your mind. How could you tell him that his recklessness, his disregard for the very things that weighed so heavily on your heart, was tearing you apart? How could you make him see that while he was content to drift through life, you were being dragged under by the currents of responsibility, duty, and the looming shadows of what was to come?

Aegon pulled you closer, his hands tight on your waist, but the embrace felt more like a cage than a comfort. “You’re living in a fantasy,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “A fantasy of duty and responsibility that was never meant for us. We’re meant to live, to enjoy what we have, not to worry about what others expect… because we’re never going to be enough”

His words cut deeper than any blade could. Aegon’s indifference to his own fate, his refusal to see the consequences of his actions, was a stark reminder of how different the two of you truly were. He lived for the moment, for the fleeting pleasures that numbed the pain he refused to acknowledge. But you couldn’t escape the weight of the future, the crushing burden of knowing what was expected of you, of him.

“You can’t escape it,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “No matter how hard you try to pretend otherwise, it’s coming for us, Aegon”

“You’re always worrying,” Aegon muttered. “You’re starting to sound like my mother—always telling me what we should be, what we should do, as if we’re some perfect vision of duty.” He sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can you stop making everything so complicated?”

“I’m sorry—” you began, your voice trembling with the weight of your fears. “But I’m afraid, Aegon. It’s terrifying, this situation. Everything… don’t you realize?” You tilted your head, searching his face for any sign that he understood the turmoil that gnawed at your insides.

“We’re alright,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “It’s you who’s making it difficult. You’re the one living in this fantasy—this fantasy of duty and faith, and everything being just— so we don’t repeat the mistakes of those before us. But it’s suffocating.”

You felt the tension coil tighter in your chest, the pressure building as if you were on the edge of a precipice. “Aegon, this isn’t just a fantasy. It’s our reality—our future. The mistakes of the past haunt us because they were real, because they had consequences. We can’t just ignore that.”

"Aegon—" you began, but before you could say another word, he silenced you with a sudden, fevered kiss. His lips crashed against yours with a force that spoke of desperation, the unmistakable taste of wine lingering on his breath. It was typical of him—this reckless need, this hunger that never seemed to be sated. His kiss was all-consuming, a fire that threatened to burn you from the inside out, and though you knew you should resist, his touch was woven so deeply into the fabric of your being that it felt impossible to pull away.

For a moment, you let yourself drown in him, in the way his hands moved up your waist to your back, seeking the laces of your sleep gown with a familiar urgency. But just as quickly, the sole thought of him lost in the arms of strangers, drowning in wine just the night before, flashed through your mind. The memory hit you like a cold wave, pulling you back to the surface of reality, and with a wrenching effort, you pushed him away.

Aegon stared at you, a frown creasing his brow, confusion mingling with the remnants of his frustration.

"Alicent—" you stammered, grasping for anything to say, your voice faltering under the weight of the lie. "She’ll be here early in the morrow," you continued, the words sounding hollow even to your own ears.

He knew it was a lie. You could see it in the way his eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger passing through them, but he said nothing. The silence between you stretched thin, taut with unspoken truths and the ever-widening distance that neither of you could bridge. His frustration, his anger—it wasn’t just at you. It was at everything, at the life he was trapped in, at the expectations that crushed him. But that anger, that resentment, was now directed squarely at you, the one person who had always been his refuge, and yet now felt like just another weight dragging him down.

And you felt your own heart ache with a sorrow that words couldn’t express. You loved him—Gods, how you loved him—but that love was starting to feel like a chain.

Aegon let out a chuckle, the sound tinged with a bitterness that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That never worried you before,” he said, his tone almost mocking.

You held his gaze, your own resolve faltering under the weight of the truth you were about to speak. “Can you imagine what they’ll do to me if they ever find out about us?” you whispered, your voice trembling as you pressed a finger to your chest. “How shame and rage will rain upon me, Aegon?”

“That’s not going to happen,” he replied, his voice firm, dismissive, as if sheer will could bend the world to his desires.

But you shook your head. “There are bigger things than us, Aegon,” you said, your voice soft yet heavy with the burden of inevitability.

He rolled his eyes. “What could happen? My mother asking me to marry you?”

“That’s the best-case scenario,” you admitted, a fleeting hope lingering in your words. “But if she doesn’t want to marry my brother to Helaena, what makes you think she’ll marry me to you, the King’s firstborn son?”

“They’re bastards,” he spat out, a familiar venom in his words.

“—As much as I am,” you whispered back, the words cutting through the air like a blade. “This is going nowhere, Aegon,” you continued before he could respond, your voice filled with resignation.

And yet, despite everything, despite the certainty that this was all leading to ruin, you couldn’t let go. Not of him, not of the love that, for all its flaws and dangers, had become the very blood in your veins. But now, you couldn’t help but wonder if that love was worth the price you were bound to pay; since this affair was doomed from its beginnings.

Aegon’s expression morphed into something indecipherable, a mask of internal conflict as though he was waging a silent war with himself between the urge to remain and the compulsion to escape. His hesitation was palpable, yet ultimately he opted for departure, unwilling to incite another confrontation that would only drive a deeper wedge between you.

“Where are you going?” you demanded, your voice a cold lance piercing through the darkness, laced with fears.

“You clearly need to reconsider things,” he said, his voice firm and filled with resignation. “You’re entangled in this ideal of the perfect daughter, the flawless princess. We’re not going to get what we desire regardless”

“So you’ll leave me alone?” you asked, the weight of the words feeling like a burden on your tongue. And you couldn’t get angry at him for choosing to leave. It almost feels like you pushed him away.

Aegon’s silence was deafening, his only reply a weary exhale. He cast one final, fleeting glance over his shoulder, a look that seemed to carry an entire world of unresolved emotions and discontent. Then, without another word, he turned and slipped out of your chamber with the same quiet stealth as his arrival, leaving you alone with the heavy stillness of your room. The silence that followed was deafening.

You couldn’t imagine a life without him but the day will come — you’ll be betrothed and taken to some place you hate. And he will be betrothed too. That’s how destiny works for all of you.

The same destiny it’s the reason he opted to numb his running mind with wine and prostitutes… once more.

“Rūklun skoriot se bantis rāpa vūjigon tolvie rūklon,” Helaena voice echoes through the small garden. Her tone always dreamy and soft, like a haunting beautiful dream.

You can’t remember when was the first time you both laid on the soft grass; when was the first time she sang for you; when was the first time she entertained you with her bugs. Now her head is laid on your stomach, as she holds a small creature in her hand. Just admiring them, and you’re glad she’s your friend. She does have that capacity of looking beyond, of truly admiring other beings.

She leaves the small bug on the grass, as she continues her soft singing; “Pōnta ȳdragon isse rāpa tolīmorghon, gūrēñagon gīda isse se zōbrie,”

Helaena is equally glad for your friendship, as you understood her. As she felt cared for; she doesn’t feel like she’s the weird girl everyone claims her to be. For her own family doesn’t seem to care so much about her. You both hear tales and stories… whispers, rumors.

When Viserys and Alicent had welcomed their first son, a healthy, silver-haired heir, they had not anticipated the arrival of a second child so soon after Aegon. Though young and aware of her duty to provide the King with heirs to secure the bloodline, Alicent was overwhelmed. Yet, when her weary and anxious eyes met those of her newborn son, a profound sense of tranquility enveloped her. Aegon would grow to be the King’s heir to the throne but Maelor shall be hers. Forever.

Then came the only girl, and the rest… All but one raised in the most hostile ambient a child can grow.

But she had endured, alway pushed aside. Just a princess, whose fate was to get married to some Lord and be exiled away from home. “Jēda, iā lyka dīnagon, pālegīon pōja jaedos ezīmagon iōrves,” She continued with her soft and haunting voice.

Unease began to creep from the pit of your stomach. Helaena’s singing, usually a balm for worries and terrors, now seemed powerless against this overwhelming dread; this was something you feared nothing could shake away.

Strange days were merely the beginning. They would haunt your sleep, echoing in the dark with the lullabies of Targaryens ghosts.

“You’re such a fool—“ A hushed and forced through teeth phrase came out of Helaena’s grandsire; Otto Hightower.

In an instant, your head whipped around, and Helaena sat up. You didn’t need to see to know what the commotion was about—Otto was dragging Aegon toward his chambers, his grip firm and unforgiving. The sight made your stomach churn with fear, casting a shadow over your thoughts. The King’s alleged heir had a way of making your skin crawl. You haven’t seen him in a couple of days after your fight.

She gazed at you, her lips parting only to release the haunting melody: “Pōja istin jehikagrī ēnka sir rāpūltan, isse iā rāpa, lyka nārhēdegon” (Their once bright hues now softened, in a tender, quiet loss).

Soon, the groans and heavy footsteps melded with the birds’ chirping and the distant murmur of voices from the hallways. Yet, the garden remained an isolated enclave, housing only Helaena’s ethereal song and your tumultuous thoughts. A palpable silence descended, compelling you to whip your head toward her.

Alicent’s only daughter was already regarding you with eyes brimming with worry and regret. It was uncommon for her to look at you this way, and the intensity of her gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

“Sealing the bond,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “One will drift away, the other will be chasing phantoms for an eternity” The innocence of her phrase was a dagger to your gut, making you want to retch, as you tasted bile on your tongue. Desperation clawed at you, and you fled, seeking refuge in the only place that could never offer you peace.

The room reeked of stale alcohol and sweat; a reminder of the first and last time you visited an inn. The once repugnant scent was now a grim familiarity. Each morning you arrived early, loyal as a hound and pristine as a dove. But not this morning; delicate petals from the garden were still tangled in your hair. You smell like fresh cut grass. And you’re late.

Aegon lay sprawled on his bed, utterly naked and feigning sleep. He was waiting, because even if he played the role of an idiot, a part of him still cared.

You swallowed hard, “Aegon?” Your voice trembled, a fragile thread of hesitation woven through it. Fear of him was not the issue; it was the looming dread, the haunting sense of something profoundly wrong, lurking just beyond the edges of your understanding.

The mere sight of him being humiliated by any member of his family or by himself was something you’ve become to accept, to make peace with. Aegon hasn’t been on a leash since he was a kid; since his father proclaimed Rhaenyra as his legitimate heir. And so he decided to indulge in the pleasure of the flesh… and alcohol — a sweet but ultimately lethal form of enjoyment. And the fact that he has harbored feelings for you doesn’t even move him into change. Not because of you, but for him. He deserves to be respected and the honor of a house such as the Targaryen. Though, he’s not even respected by his own kin. By his own parents. Viserys was old, probably had an ounce of love for him which burned when he had realized he didn’t need more children to secure the bloodline. His firstborn was still very much alive; even if he was a woman. And Alicent only cherished his twin brother.

Aegon often wondered what it would be like to be the one born looking like a Hightower—instead of being a living reminder to his mother of the sacrifices she had to make, of her stolen childhood, and of every unavenged wound. Would he then be wanted as much as Maelor is? Deep down, he knew it was a futile dream. He tried not to care, but the fear of being crushed under the weight of everyone’s expectations gnawed at him incessantly.

After all, Maelor, has much more of a tender temperament and Aemond’s intellect and wit, which seemed to embody everything Aegon was not. His eyes were a warm, inviting brown, complementing his auburn hair—a perfect reflection of Alicent. He looked human, soft, approachable, and kind. In Aegon’s eyes, Maelor was the epitome of what Alicent desired, a role Aegon could never fulfill.

You dusted off your pale dress, swallowing down your rising frustration and anger. It wasn’t in your nature to be quick to anger, to point the finger, to blame others for their mistakes. But today, his actions felt unbearable. “Do—Do you even care?” Your voice sounded pathetic, a desperate plea for recognition, affection — just to be seen by yout lover.

He didn’t bother opening his eyes. Everything was too bright, too loud for his liking, especially after Otto Hightower’s sermonizing. “Uhm—? Ah, oh,” He yawned, shifting to make himself more comfortable in bed. “Yes, sure.”

His indifference sparked a surge of anger within you, the bile rising to tinge your throat with its bitter taste. “I’m being serious.”

“Don’t speak so loud…” He groaned, dismissive. But he was the one who sought comfort in your arms the last time you saw each other. “You should go, I don’t want any of your services”

It makes your blood seethe, each word from him striking like arrows piercing through your heart. The indignity of being called a whore stings with a venomous edge.

It was always a struggle to engage in conversation with him when he was saturated with the remnants of last night’s excesses. But today felt especially grueling; your patience is unraveling, eroded by the relentless tide of his cruelty.

You approached his bed, standing close enough to block the sunlight that accentuated his handsome features. You wanted to scream, to hit him, hoping that maybe then he would love you, maybe then he would strive to be better and meet your expectations. But Aegon wasn’t a fool; he knew you were the only one who forgave him every single time, without him even trying. Gathering all your courage, you spoke the words that had been festering within you: “You’re pathetic.”

So you think that too? He knew everything couldn’t be perfect. Aegon understood he was doomed, marked by fate’s cruel design. He knows this truth intimately… yet, despite everything, he clings to hope with a desperation that borders on madness. Because you’re the only one seeing him with different and softer eyes.

He can’t think because his mind is flooded with guilt, of everything that happened last night… Of everything he’s ever done to you, whether good or bad. “Go pester Maelor, he looks just like me. I’m sure he can entertain you… Maybe he won’t pleasure you as well as I do. But after all, all whores are the same, I’m sure he won’t mind”

Tears gathered at the corner of your eyes. His cruelty cuts deep, making you question if any of it is worth it—the sacrifices, the hurt, the strange looks, and your bleeding heart. Are they worth the fleeting moments of bliss? He’s capable of loving, and being kind — he has shown you that. Sometimes you like to fool yourself thinking that he actually cares about you, that maybe he thinks you’re more than just a pawn following everything he says… More than just a girl staring at him with wide, hopeful eyes. Thinking maybe, just maybe… he actually sees you.

But it’s the indifference, and his insolent words that creates a wall. One you’re too tired to try and bring it down.

You snort, deciding to play his game, ethough you know it will keep destroying everything. “Maybe I will, Aegon. Maelor has more honor in his little finger than you’ll ever have. You just wallow in your own filth.”

You speak with distaste, the words hurting you as much as they hurt him, because they come from a place of anger, a vengeful side you despise. It makes you want to throw up; the mere idea to succumb into your rage.

You turned around, unable to bear looking at him. If you meet his eyes, you’ll collapse under the weight of your own emotions and beg for forgiveness, even though it’s not your fault. You just wanted to make amends. “Do you know you’re throwing everything away, Aegon?” you ask, your voice trembling with the weight of despair. You don’t expect an answer. He already knows.

“I’ve been on my knees, begging for some kind of forgiveness from the Gods, for even the slightest hint of their consideration,” you whispered, your voice trembling under the weight of raw, unrestrained anguish. “Yet you persist in pushing me away. I’m on the brink, exhausted, uncertain if I have anything left to offer. I’ve sacrificed so much, endured countless trials for you, and now you cast me aside as if I were nothing.”

Each word was a dagger, cutting through the fragile silence with a bitter clarity. The raw pain in your voice seemed to resonate through the cold stone walls, echoing the deep fissures in your heart.

Unable to sustain the crushing burden of your sorrow, you turned abruptly and fled the room, covering your face and red rimmed eyes with your hands. The guards who opened the gates offered no solace, their stony expressions betraying no empathy. The heavy silence of the Red Keep was a stark contrast to the turmoil within you. You knew Aegon’s chambers were a sanctuary at this hour, shielded from the prying eyes of the court, save for the ever-watchful presence of Alicent.

“Princess,” a voice cut through your despair. You halted abruptly, your heart sinking as you recognized the only Hightower-looking son of Alicent. His eyes were filled with a mixture of curiosity and pity — not like he cared about you.

“Alicent is looking for you,” he said, his tone imbued with a sense of quiet urgency.

You lowered your hands, exposing your tear-stained face. The pain was a palpable force, constricting your throat and making it difficult to speak.

“Did Aegon do something to you?” he asked, his concern etched into every word, but the shy smirk betrayed him — not that you would catch it.

“No—no,” you choked out, shaking your head as if to dispel the crushing weight of your emotions. “I’m just—” The words faltered, it was not only pointless but dangerous to explain. “Where’s Alicent?”

— next chapter

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen twin #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen angst #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen au #tom glynn-caney’s #gaius julius caesar

241 notes · View notes

dreamcatcher2113 · 2 years

Text

The Dragon Dance

Summary: What if Rhaenyra had another child? What if Rhaenyra had a daughter with white hair and purple eyes? What if she was betrothed to Aemond as an alliance with Greens?

You are the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, unlike your brothers you have white hair and purple eyes. You are the twin sister of Jacaerys. You were close with Aemond when you were kids, you two attached to the hip. Ten years later after your family left to Dragonstone, your family reunites with the Greens. You see a familiar face, Aemond Targaryen. Even though it's been years since you last saw him, let's just say you are not the same little girl you were once before.

Warnings: The reader and Jacaerys are aged up, they would be eighteen. Uncle/niece insect. 18+ smut(eventually). Language. Mentions of assault (mainly from Aegon). Violence. And possible other warnings that I can’t think of. There is a happy ending.

This fic does not follow the story or the show, this more a what-if scenario. There will be some similarities

Sword fighting between you and Ameond

Masterlist

_____________________________________

The Dragon Dance Part 01:

It's been ten years since the last time you’ve seen your uncles and aunt, you have mixed feelings about the reunion. The last time you saw your uncle Aemond, it was not a pleasant goodbye. You have no idea what happened between your brothers and your uncle. All you knew was that your younger brother Lucerys took Aemond’s eye, defending your cousins Baela and Rhaena. After that night your family fled to Dragonstone, where you had your education and trained with your brothers.

Ever since you were a young girl you would mimic Jacaerys moves when he would wield his sword. Daemon saw this and noticed you were quite talented with a sword. So he started to train you as well. After years of training you became a better swordsman than any other knight, you have become the teacher instead. Rhaenyra became really proud of the women you have become. Your brothers always said that you act like your mother sometimes, which you take as a compliment. You look up to your mother, you want to become like her. You want to have the same freedom as her. Ride on dragonback and soar through the sky, being free not worrying about the feud between the Blacks and the Greens.

It breaks your heart that your family is split into two, even though your mother and father explained to you multiple times why things are the way they are. You understand logically but emotionally you felt it was stuipid. You always wished that there was some way to mend the strain between two families. Even though it seems hopeless, you didn’t want to give up hope, at least just not yet.

As soon as you and your family landed on King’s Landing, you got off your dragon Saphira. You pet her goodbye and start heading towards the castle. Not to your surprise no one greeted you and your family at your family's arrival. You heard the whispers, you heard the gossip about your brothers, and sometimes about you since you and Jace are twins. The only reason why there is less gossip about you, is because you were blessed with white hair and purple eyes. However there are still rumors about you since you don’t resemble your brothers. There were rumors that you are not really Rhaenyra’s daughter. Or they dye your hair to make you like a Targaryen. Or your favorite rumor is you’re the secret love child of Rhaenyra and Daemon.

You and your brothers walked to the training grounds, talking about old memories and noticing the stares you three were getting. You rolled your eyes at the people who are not so secretly gossiping about you and your brothers. You were about to say something but Jace gave you a look and shook his head no. Telling you it’s not worth it, you sigh knowing he is right but it still irks you.

You three hear the commotion, and see familiar white hair. You, Jace, and Luce walk into the circle of people surrounding two people fighting each other. Your purple eyes widen knowing who is winning. It's no other than your uncle Aemond, not to your surprise he won the fight. He turns to your brothers with a smirk “Nephew’s, have you come to train?” Aemond asked, still holding his sword against Ser Criston Cole's neck; not noticing you standing next to Jace. Both Jace and Luce are speechless, not knowing what to say.

“Hello uncle, I am actually here to come to train.” You said, saving your brothers from public humiliation. You take your cloak off and hand it to Jace. The dress you have on is a black dress, the torso mimicking a dragon scales as armor, long sleeves hugging your arms. “I’m sorry my lady, this isn’t a place for you. A lady like yourself shouldn’t hold a sword.” Ser Criston is trying to stop you from grabbing a sword. You roll your eyes at the comment, as your brother’s chuckle a little at Ser Criston’s response. Knowing you can wipe the floor with all of these men, including your uncle.

“Now Ser Criston, let's not deny my niece this opportunity, give the lady a sword.” Aemond commanded Ser Criston with a smirk on his face, somewhat underestimating you but also knowing you are not like other ladies. It's one of the many reasons why he fell for you.

You usually love to twirl and play with your sword before you sword fight, however this is a different situation. You want to catch your uncle by surprise, you want him to underestimate you. You want every man here to think you are some defenseless girl. You want to put on a show. You pretend to struggle holding a sword, fooling almost everyone except some people. Your brothers holding their laughter knowing exactly what you are doing. They know what you are capable of, and what you can do with a weapon. Your uncle Aemond however has a hunch that you are acting. It might have been ten years since the last time he saw you, but he remembers every single thing about you. He knows when you are lying.

For his own amusement he will play along with the game you are playing. He lifts his sword and twirls it “shall we begin young niece?” he asks sweetily but yet viciously as well.

You lift your sword up, “let’s uncle.” You respond with a sweet smile, but the smile has a bite to it.

Aemond charges towards you with the sword, and you immediately dodge the attack. He goes after you again, once again you dodge his attack. Finally you start using your sword as he continues to attack you. You swing your sword against his, and twirling the sword and him, where his back is facing you and you sword against his neck. “You should learn to fight with your feet uncle, not just your arms.” You whisper in his ear, feeling your hot breath against his skin. Aemond couldn’t help but feel chills down his spine.

He shouts in frustration, turns to you and swings his sword towards you. You block the attack with your sword. You two start to sword fight for real, well to be honest you were going easy on him. Jace and Luce know that this fight would be over within a heartbeat, but you want to see what Aemond is capable of. You will admit Aemond is a tough opponent, he is definitely more of a challenge then you ever trained with. You will admit your uncle is a good swordsman, but you are better.

Finally the fight ends by you disarming Aemond and pointing the end of your sword towards his neck. He raises his hands in a surrender, knowing he has lost this fight with you. You put the sword down, holding the handle. “Thank you for training with me uncle, I will admit you are a tough opponent. I feel honored to train with you.” You said sweetly, giving Aemond a small bow and a small smile. You walk towards Ser Criston, handing him the sword and walk towards your brothers. Jace gives you back your cloak, putting it on yourself. You link both arms with your brothers, as you three start to walk away you start to smile widely knowing you just surprised every man in the training grounds.

As Aemond saw you and brothers walked away, he couldn’t help but smirk. He didn’t mind losing to you. He honestly thought that was the most attractive thing you have done so far. Aemond always wanted you, and after that encounter he wants you even more.

#aemond targaryen #aemond imagine #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond fic #house of the dragon fic #the dragon dance #targaryen reader #velaryon reader #reader #reader insert

2K notes · View notes

madame-fear · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— summary : [ — ✧ request ] You are betrothed to Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, eldest son of Rhaenyra Targaryen — and future King of the Seven Kingdoms — as to make the union between your Houses stronger. While you are already blindly head over heels for the gentle, yet commited-to-duties Prince Jacaerys, you catch someone else’s attention. — pairing : lucerys velaryon x betrothed!reader — last updated : 23 / 06 / 2024

[ chapter 01. ] — gevie ruklon [ pretty flower ]

[ chapter 02. ] — stroking the flames of jealousy

[ chapter 03. ] — ungraceful deceptions

[ chapter 04. ] — no guidance

[ chapter 05. ] — a war between love and hate

[ chapter 06. ] — grieving conveniences

[ chapter 07. ] — light amidst dark

[ chapter 08. ] — ode to the heirs

[ chapter 09. ] — storm’s end

[ chapter 10. ] — black swan

[ chapter 11. ] — stand the pain

— ✧ rest of chapters to be uploaded soon! ✧ —

#lucerys velaryon x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #the power of love #the power of love masterlist

264 notes · View notes

the-desilittle-bird · 1 year

Text

Author's Note- And after gods know how much time later, I decided to write the second part of Twisted Feelings.

Requests are always open and well appreciated.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

Twisted Love

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

Part 1 • Part 2

Summary- Weeks have passed and the twisted feelings have turned into something else...

Tag List- @eliseline, @little-moonbeam-666, @blackhoodlea, @omgsuperstarg, @shopping, @lizlovecraft, @dayane, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26, @all-things-fandomstuck, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @morganastrucker, @shrexy, @helloitsshitzulover, @daringboba, @minaxcarter, @b-tchymoon, @stargaryenx, @hukio, @saraelizabeth26, @targaryenmoony, @moon-light1415, @eudximoniakr, @themaze13, @candypurplebutterfly, @5moremin, @yariany02, @issybee0611, @gossipandspills, @hopebaker, @kateris-world, @lady-athanasia, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @cherryaemond, @watercolorskyy, @literishdegree99, @sunmoon-01, @savagemickey03, @ultrav0lence, @deltamoon666, @severewobblerlightdragon, @hyacinthus007, @andlizeth, @shine101, @beefbaby25

Warnings- Suicidal Thoughts, Attempt to Suicide, Aemond, Manipulation, Arranged Marriage

GIF Credits to @imagine-all-the-things

Weeks have passed and (Y/N)'s wounded eye had healed enough to be covered with a not-so-flattering eyepatch. Though her patch was not much identical to her uncle's, it reminded her of him; the twisted man her uncle was.

She vaguely remembered Alicent's shocked expression and Otto Shittower's yelling while she was on verge of passing out on her uncle's shoulder from the pain.

It teared (Y/N) up to think that she was to live in this place for a long time if not her entire life. She missed her mother dearly, as well as her brothers and sisters. And as the days passed on, she started to miss Daemon as well.

She and her stepfather weren't on the best terms when her mother got married, due to the fact that it wasn't too long ago she lost her father. But Daemon had always shown his support to her whenever she picked up her sword.

Anyone who came to the chambers she was locked in found the bastard princess sitting on the window looking over the sea, ironically in the direction of Dragonstone.

She prayed to the Valyrian Gods to save her from this prison. She woke up everyday with the hope to find Caraxes or Syrax on the horizon, but unfortunately, she was always disappointed.

It was as if her family had forgotten their daughter, Rhaenyra's only surviving daughter. Jacaerys' fencing partner. Lucerys' trickster sister and much to everyone's surprise, Daemon's politics advisor.

"(Y/N)."

The Princess turned around, her eyes skeptically looking at Alicent who stood at the doorway. Her hands intervened in front of her. In her hands was a dress of green dress dress with black designs.

"I am aware that you sit here, wishing for anyone of your family to rescue you," she said, her voice slow and soft, lacing with sympathy. But (Y/N) knew better, all credits to Daemon. She knew the manipulative tactics Hightower's adopted a d implemented.

"We had offered to bring peace to the realm," she continued, making the Velaryon sigh as she stood up, glaring at the supposed Queen Mother. "Bring peace?! After all you have done, you want peace?"

Alicent stood her ground, knowing that Aemond and Criston were outside of the chambers and would not hesitate to defend her if the time came. So, she stepped forward, carefully placing the dress on a chair.

"I came here to at least inform of you of your marriage peacefully but it seems you are not in a state to converse," she said, turning around to hear a confused chuckle. "Marriage? To whom?" (Y/N)'s sounded defeated, and perhaps she was now.

"Aemond."

(Y/N) was left confused and defeated as she glared at the dress and the closed doors, thinking of a way to escape this prison but only came upon a single idea.

Her eye looked at the glass vase with intensity, tears threatening to blur her vision. With heavy feet, she stood up and dragged her body to the vase. (Y/N) could feel her entire life move in front of her eye as she pushed the vase to the floor, shattering it to pieces.

The glass pieces scattered around the well-furnished floor, glistening under the sunlight just as the tears in her eye. Grabbing on the largest piece, (Y/N) placed it on her wrist and suddenly, the weight of her condition hit her.

She realized that with one single slash, she could end this. This misery of her life; her life. Then, she would be free from all this cruelty of world. The piece of glass felt heavy in her hand, making it tremble.

She didn't hear the door opening but came to her senses when the glass was thrown away from her and in front of her knelt a raging Aemond, his eye looking at her with barely contained anger.

His calloused hands grabbed her roughly, leading her out of her room for God's know how many days later. Tears streaked down (Y/N)'s face as she followed Aemond numbly.

And soon enough, she was seated in a room filled with the Greens. Alicent, Otto, Aegon, Helaena and Aemond. Aemond was fuming with his hand on her shoulder, keeping her seated down, not that she would move anyway. (Y/N) felt way too tired for that.

"I do not care for fancy celebrations! I wish to marry (Y/N) NOW!" She could hear his voice distantly, as if he wasn't standing next to her but thousands of miles away. "The lords will be here in a few days, Aemond. Until then we can keep an eye on her," Alicent said calmly, but Aemond had set his mind already.

"I would marry her again that day, but I am not leaving her alone. Not after what she attempted today," he hissed, his eye watching his mother intently, scaring her a bit.

But it was not Alicent who spoke, it was Otto.

"Fine, do whatever you wish."

#house targaryen #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond imagine #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond x y/n #house of the dragon aemond #hotd aemond #hotd one shot

191 notes · View notes

ao3feed-rhaewin · 2 months

Text

#ao3feed #fanfic #rhaewin #harwin strong #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd

5 notes · View notes

backjustforberena · 2 months

Note

Hi, I'll try to explain myself better: in the TV series, the showrunners have deliberately created an emotional relationship between Luke and Corlys (the speech Corlys gives to Luke at Laena's funeral; commissioning the dagger), while he is absolutely indifferent or even 'snubs' the other grandchildren, such as Rhaena or Joff (when frankly they have the same knowledge of ships and Driftmark as Luke, that is, none)

Okay, that's interesting and ultimately, I think the answer is to be found both in what the series needed to get across, and also how well Corlys knows the children and what he is then looking for in an heir when he then has to consider alternatives.

Do I think that Lucerys and Corlys had a closer relationship in the show than Corlys does with any of the other grandchildren? Yes. Absolutely. No question. Do I think it's deliberate on the part of the showrunners? Yes, of course. Absolutely. Do I think his lack of interest is malicious or intentional on his part towards the other kids? Not really... or, at least, there are reasons for a gap.

Luke and Corly are intertwined. Not only do we have them having that one scene together in Episode 07 of Series 01, but we also have Luke's own emotional journey regarding his status as Heir to Driftmark (so, whilst Corlys is physically absent in those episodes, his presence and wishes are crucial to Lucerys's fate and development) and we have a specific scene to portray Corlys's grief over losing Lucerys in Series 2, something unafforded to various other characters like Daemon, Rhaenys, or any of Luke's siblings except Jace.

They are both important to the other's character arc and work in a way that the other grandchildren just... aren't. It's like how Rhaenyra is closest to Jace, Laena had her scene with Rhaena and that connection continues on, and Rhaenys has Baela as her foil. The kids sort of get paired off for various reasons, depending on who is suitable to bring out what - either bringing out something in the adult or something out in the kid. It's all pretty basic stuff and Luke gets paired with Corlys. That means sacrificing those other relationships.

For example, Baela hadn't conversed at all with Corlys until last week's episode. He hasn't spoken to Jace or Rhaena either. But, likewise, Rhaenys hadn't spoken directly to Jace and Luke (other than fetching them in Episode 10). Nor does she speak to Rhaena (other than their brief exchange in Episode 08). Daemon hasn't spoken to his daughter other than in small encounters etc etc.

Now, there's the obvious emotional attachment and love between Corlys and Luke. What interests me is what Luke ends up representing for Corlys as his heir, though. It could be that I'm reading too much into this but I think having Luke as his heir becomes a big thing separated from just being a beloved grandson.

Luke represents his legacy and the stability and strength of a legacy that Corlys is hellbent on ensuring that becomes more fragile and false and at risk as the series goes on. He's sort of pinning all his hopes on Luke. It's a done deal so he goes all in on it - he commissions a dagger that's all but a replica of his own which shows his intentions. There's a thought and a promise in that: he will make Luke as Velaryon as he needs to be and he's not changing his mind and he's not expecting Luke to die.

At least, that's my perspective. I don't half wonder if Corlys idealised Luke. It wouldn't surprise me to learn, for example, that he didn't have any idea about Luke getting greensick. Or, if he did, that he didn't wave it away much as he did Laenor's sexuality: he will grow out of it.

Then we move on to the other kids. And what's important to me here is that... Corlys went away for six years. He doesn't know these other kids. And whoever they are, they can't be Luke, who was his heir (or at least his heir's heir) since he was born and who Corlys has loved and built up in his head and spoken to about this inheritance.

Rhaena... he doesn't know her. He'll have met her as much as he did in her first ten years of life, but then squat for six years. And Joffrey... Joffrey was a baby when Corlys left to war. He doesn't know that kid at all. There's a far smaller emotional attachment to that child - so it's easy to dismiss him. Does he snub them? Yes. But I can see why. They're not Luke. They're not right.

Corlys can teach Luke, and he thinks he has the time to (if he's of the opinion that Luke doesn't know enough about ships - we don't know what Luke knows or what Corlys thinks Luke knows). We get to Series 2 and he can't teach these kids. Rhaena's sent to the Vale, the other one is a child and also in the Vale. If Corlys dropped down dead in battle the next day, are either of them suitable options to lead the Fleet?

That's not to excuse Corlys, at all. Corlys has a bit of an odd perspective. I think he's a big rule-follower. He likes law, he likes black and white, he likes simplicity. But he's also very much capable of getting an idea and hanging onto it, even if other people don't really agree. I suppose those ideas don't necessarily have to conflict, but I think they rather to do in this case.

You've got the black-and-white order of inheritance (sort of, because it's a mess r.e Jace and choosing an heir and how much leeway he actually has and no one is forcing him to do anything), smashing up against what Corlys needs or imagines for his "heir", especially considering that they are in wartime and he's probably got a lot of feelings about mortality.

I actually don't think he wants to have a conversation about his heirs at all, when Rhaenys brings it up. I think he desperately wants to avoid the subject, but it's up to you to reason exactly why. Is it just dislike for his remaining grandchildren? Is it regret? Is it feelings about Rhaenyra and perhaps "history does not remember blood" wearing thin? Is it to avoid confronting his grief about Luke? Or to avoid the fact that he really has lost his heir? Maybe it's about confronting the idea of his own death being sooner than later, especially as he's still recovering from the last near-miss? Or is it not wanting to spoil a moment with his wife? Or something else?

We only have brief conversations to go off, with all of these relationships. And all are very specific to context and can be as complicated as you want to make them, to be honest. Let me know what you think! I'm still trying to wrap my head around a lot of it.

#house of the dragon #corlys velaryon

5 notes · View notes