#my perfect laena

[calirph]

𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐀 as 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄

in MGM's The Winter King. 1.07.

[peachysunrize]

Labyrinth ⥃ Aemond Targaryen

Summary: falling in love is easy for most people, but not for Aemond Targaryen. How can a broken cold-hearted man be able to love the most gentle human Westeros has ever seen?

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, very very gentle, angst angst angst angst!!!, humiliation, reader is Daemon & Laena’s oldest daughter, no description for reader (besides white hair) you can imagine her however you like, Aemond is a vulnerable & insecure baby girl, like he is really really insecure, mentions of murder, fluff, nightmares, chronic pain, mentions of Aemond’s injury, anxiety attack, babes are in looooove, English isn’t my first language<3 it’s very heavily plotted and the smut is at the end of the story.

Word count: 11.5k (she's so long but worth it)

a/n: I’ve always wanted to write something with this kind of trope, especially when it’s from the man’s pov, and there’re so little fics that get into the depths of Aemond’s pain and suffering so I needed to try and write something that says his part of the story as well! Please please tell me your opinions and favorite lines of this piece! I’ve worked sooo hard for this fic and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Reblogs and comments are appreciated<3🩷

A very special thank you to my babies, @namelesslosers & @neptuneiris for beta-ing and supporting my ideas😭🫂✨

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?”

Aemond watches the scene unfold in front of him; his mother seeking justice for him, slashing Rhaenyra’s forearm with the dagger in her hand, spilling her blood in fury.

He looks around the room, finding you scared behind your grandfather, looking at him with wide teary eyes. He scowls when he sees how you look at him with pity, thinking he is a deformed monster in your eyes, to his best friend’s eyes.

You leave the hall in a rush, and he scoffs at how unbearable he must look for you to go in such haste, allowing this injustice to wreck his world and him to cope with the aftermath alone. How could you leave him like that? What happened to all the hours he helped you build that stupid sandcastle next to where Vhagar lays? Did you forget every moment, every laughter you had together?

He stands up and walks to his mother, telling her that Vhagar is worth it. But is it true? It might be worth gaining the largest dragon alive, but in the back of his mind, he thinks about how he has lost you.

No, you left him, he hasn’t done anything wrong. He is the one with his eye in a tray, he is the one who needs tending to for the first time, and you left him while he and his mother were humiliated by Rhaenyra and her bastards.

The morning comes sooner than expected, the milk of the poppy knocked him out immediately last night. He walks down the stairs where his family is gathering to leave, his mother holding Helaena’s hand while god knows where his father is, probably saying his goodbyes to his daughter and Princess Rhaenys. 

Aemond moves toward the hill that Vhagar is sleeping on, catching the sight of you waiting for him next to the sandcastles he helped you build yesterday after your mother’s funeral.

“What do you want?” he asks, standing in front of you, trying not to frown too much to loosen his stitches.

“I-I wanted to ask how you were doing…”

“After leaving me all alone? You were my friend! I needed you and you left me! And you ask how I am after I got my eye cut out?” He shouts at you, waking up Vhagar from her drowsy nap.

“I-I don’t have any excuses, but Aemond, please—” “No, I hate you! I hate your stupid hair, your eyes, your laugh, even-even your sandcastles! They are so childish and-and ugly!” “I know you are upset with me, and I’m so sorry for what happened to you, but please let me—” “No!” he yells at you again, marching toward the castle next to your feet before he stomps all over it, screaming and crying while he ruins the perfect sculpture he himself has made for you.

“Aemond…” the sob that wrecks through you makes him stop, but you are not looking at his feet, you are looking at his face, crying for him. He doesn’t spare a glance at you when he walks to climb Vhagar’s saddle, but guilt overwhelms his emotions and dread fills him.

You just wanted to talk, and he treated you so poorly even if his anger was justified.

Oblivious to him, as soon as he and his family were gone, you ran to your grandmother, crying in her arms and begging her to allow you to study with Maesters, in hopes that someday you may help your childhood friend with the pain he will carry for the rest of his life.

•••••••••••

Jacaerys’ name day, another pathetic excuse to have his sister and her pups in the capital under the same roof, drinking and wasting the crown’s money. He can’t blame them though, they’re desperate to get on the lords’ good sides by showing off their heritage, going with songs and praises for the heir after his mother.

Unnecessary, stupid… 

Aemond groans, running his hand over his face as he wakes up with the sounds of banging in the hallway. He knows that they’re arriving today, and he’s aware that the royal chambers should be ready when his sister makes a face, but to wake him up at such an early hour after the rough night he had should have severe consequences.

With another deep groan, he sits up on his bed, looking at the sea from between the sheer curtains of his room, watching the sunlight shine bright on the surface of the water, Sunfyre and Dreamfyre already taking turns in the sky over the city.

He stands up, looking down at the soaked undershirt he had on during sleep, exhaling deeply as he pulls the fabric off, slamming it down on the couch as he walks to the balcony to get some fresh air. The morning breeze hits his sweat-covered chest, stinging the empty socket of his eye.

He knows he should go back inside, to cover his scar and avoid pain from the cold wind, but the contrast of the coldness of it on his heated skin is soothing his mind, calming his beating heart. He will regret it during the day, but for now, after experiencing yet another nightmare, he needs to feel alive again.

As soon as the sharp pain starts from the depths of his skull, he moves back, shutting the door and pulling the curtains closed. He stands straight, his nails digging inside his palms as he controls, or tries to control his breathing. 

It always starts like this; a sting, then another one but sharper, then a minimal pain that surrounds his scar, and finally, the stabbing pain all over his face followed by the worst headache someone can ever endure.

He reaches for the nearest surface he can lean on, knuckles turning white as he keeps his weight up, trying not to fall on his knees just yet.

He can do it, he has done it countless times.

Aemond steadies himself on his feet before he sighs shakily, walking towards the clothes his mother’s servants laid down for him yesterday. It is a simple outfit; a leather tunic with black pants and a fresh beige undershirt. Nothing too fancy, and nothing less regal that a prince should wear.

He takes his time while getting ready, allowing the phantom pain of his eye to fade away slowly. Before he can button up his tunic, his chamber servants come running in, putting a bowl of water with a warm towel on the side desk while they prepare his breakfast. He covers the left side of his face with his hand so as to not scare them with the unbearable sight of the empty space in his face.

He watches them with a sleepy gaze as they clear the room, slamming the door behind them. Aemond sits in front of his mirror, taking the brush in his hand to untangle his unruly hair.

There are no thoughts in his head as he stares blankly at his reflection; he hates his scar with a passion that could set the realm on fire. There is no gentleness in his features, everything is sharp, angular, and rough. There is no trace left of the boy he was before his nephew took out his eye.

Doomed before he could even try to become someone worthy.

He ties his hair, revealing more of the healed wound and the dark empty socket on his face. Sometimes he gets stuck inside the labyrinth of his head, running and running until he reaches the middle, but it’s never enough. At the end of the maze, someone drops dead; whether he kills them or they kill him. There is no escape from these dreams, from these self-destructive thoughts that haunt him day and night.

He reaches for a box on the vanity, pulling out the sapphire gem before reaching for an ointment Maester has given him to help the gem fill his eye socket without pain.

He looks at himself again; he looks less like a brute, the gem adds to his beauty but in his mind, it’s not enough, it’ll never be. He sees his brothers, healthy and handsome, being subjected to women’s attention all the time, and sometimes he wishes desperately to be in their place, to be able to talk to a lady without frightening her. But he has learned that a maimed man is less worthy than a whore in Streets of Silk, so he exercises and trains daily to become worthy again, to live up to his Targaryen name. There are deep yet little scars adorning all over the skin of his hands and arms — a reminder of how he has become the man he is.

He eats his breakfast in silence, tension rising in his shoulders as the smoke of the candles on his desk reaches his eye. He drops his spoon on the table, blowing the candles out before he reaches for his eyepatch.

He has told everyone that there shouldn’t be any scented candles in his rooms, but as it seems no one ever pays attention to what he has to say, not even to help with the pain of his eye.

He stands up, knocking a few plates on the table to the floor, smearing fresh fruits on his carpet. A deep groan rumbles through his chest, but he can’t care less about anything other than the fact that he needs to join his family in the throne room — and he does after he grabs his dagger and secures it in his belt.

“Ser,” Aemond nods at his appointed guard, earning a ‘good morning, my prince’ from him. Aemond walks down the stairs with his head held high, scoffing at the servants who make a path for him hurriedly, trying to avoid being seen by him or see him.

The bustling of the castle is irritating; everyone is running from one corner to another and decorating the keep for their princess’ arrival. He is not annoyed that he has to reunite with his sister and nephews, but because he has to endure their presence for longer than necessary, to look them in the eye and act civil as if the pain he copes with already isn’t enough torment from them.

He nods at Ser Cole, who follows him into the crowded hall, eying everyone who is waiting for the Realm’s delight. Aegon and Helaena are standing side by side, his sister is clutching Aegon’s arm tightly as the crowd makes her feel small under its gaze. His mother looks at the throne silently, and he can see the hesitation in her eyes — how are they going to go through these weeks of celebration, they have no idea.

“Good morrow, Mother,” he whispers as he stands behind her, his eye softening at the small smile she gives him, “you look radiant this morning.”

“Hush you, sweet talker,” she chuckles lowly, rubbing his arms lovingly, “have you heard about the Velaryons’ arrival?”

“Lord Corlys is coming as well?” he asks, shifting on his feet nervously, his fingers tightening slightly on Alicent’s elbows, “I did not know…” “Neither did I, darling. They shall arrive at the same time as Rhaenyra, at least I know Daemon’s eldest will.”

“Driving on dragonback, obviously,” he mutters, sighing shakily. 

Alicent notices his hesitancy, she gently cups his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eyes, “Do not project your anger on her, she was but a child.”

“Yet she kept silent that night. She was supposed to be my friend,” he says, looking away from his mother, lowering his head in shame, beating himself for letting his emotions take hold of him.

“Give your courtesy and leave if you wish not to talk to her,” Alicent smiles sadly at Aemond, patting his cheek before they both look at the doors of the hall.

Something in his guts drops when he sees Rhaenyra entering, her family walking towards them, all smiling and laughing as if they aren’t going to experience the most dreadful weeks of their lives. 

“Your grace,” Rhaenyra says, trying to break the visible tension between the families. The crowd goes silent, and the only thing they can hear is the soft exhales of the people close to them, everyone waiting with bated breath to see what happens in a few seconds.

“Princess,” Alicent smiles, “welcome back to your home,” she replies politely, giving Daemon a half courtesy before she congratulates Jacaerys for his eight-and-ten name day.

“Aegon…”

Aemond looks away from his sister as she acknowledges them all, instead his eye finds Daemon’s who is staring back at him with a smirk on his face. Aemond’s gaze doesn’t waver, and Daemon chuckles at that, giving him a challenging look.

He looks back at Rhaenyra who says his name, giving him a forced smile before she turns around quickly and asks for the King.

“He is quite unwell, he shall join us in the evening,” Alicent explains, telling the maids to make haste and set the garden ready to start the celebrations; nothing too fancy for the noon, a tea gathering in the garden to reunite everyone, or at least to make sure the court has something to gossip about.

Aemond follows them slowly, taking time to observe each and every one of them. He can’t shake the uneasy feeling that settles in his chest as his eye finds Lucerys Velaryon, laughing and looping his arm with Rhaena. He looks away immediately, lips forming into a sneer as he walks with his hands behind him, grinding his teeth while he thinks about how he was robbed of everything good because of that bastard, because of the hideous scar he gave him.

The garden is filled with new bushes; roses, lilacs, daisies, and surprisingly winter roses. The sight would have been quite beautiful if all this fuss wasn’t for his nephew. He walks away from the crowd, making his way toward his siblings who are trying to appeal content with the events. Helaena is in her own world, lifting a worm from the ground as she counts its feet. Aegon is gulping down his wine while he listens to Daeron telling him about whatever book he has read these past few days, or at least he seems like he is paying attention.

Aemond sighs, grabbing a goblet of wine himself to nurse on it as he tries to distract himself from the chilly wind that hits his face. Luckily the eyepatch covers his eye socket fully and doesn’t let the cold breeze hit his scar, but the tension in his bones has remained from the morning rush of pain he experienced earlier. It’d be best if he left this pointless gathering earlier anyway.

“How are you faring this beautiful morning, brother?” Aegon asks him, grinning sarcastically. Daeron groans in response, even though the question wasn’t meant for him. Everyone can tell he is fed up with Aegon’s constant teasing of Rhaenyra’s family coming back to Red Keep.  

“Well enough to know I will be leaving in a few minutes,” Aemond replies, sipping on his wine as he catches Luke stealing glances at him. Pathetic, he is too scared to even look at him properly, he is glad though, it gives him a sense of comfort to know the mark he has left on his face scares him enough to keep him away from him.

“Can’t do that! It’d be rude if you left without saying hi to our favorite Velaryons.” Aegon smirks, tipping his head back as he laughs at Aemond’s sneer.

“As much as I hate to say this, but the idiot is right; you can’t give them more reasons to resent us,” Daeron says, looking at his older brother with kind eyes, “besides, they are here anyway.” he points at the passageway leading to the garden, catching the sight of Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys walking side by side toward the crowd.

Aemond’s heart stops for a second when his good eye lays upon you, following your grandparents with a gentle smile grazing your lips. You are a sight to behold; silver hair falling around your shoulders like curtains of moonlight that shine bright like a diamond beneath the morning rays of sunshine. Your gown the bluest of blue that shows your devotion to your mother’s house, and your lips painted pink in the most alluring way… 

Aemond’s eye sees a sight his mind can not comprehend, too unreal and beautiful that makes him doubt if he is seeing you with his sapphire eye through the patch.

His face is blank, but his heart is beating so fast he can hear his pulse in his ears. His eye follows you, watching you bow before his mother and sister, looking away immediately to find your sisters already giddy to hug you. Rhaena is the first to run to you, wrapping her arms around you while Baela approaches you slowly, letting her twin have her moment with you.

He doesn’t move from his spot, he can’t move even if he wants to; he’s struck between shock and something he can’t pinpoint; he can only say for sure that he hopes it’s a rush of adrenaline of not seeing you for so long.

The only time he looks away from you is when Daeron pats his back and encourages him to join everyone to say hello and welcome your family to the Keep. He doesn’t need to say a word, just a nod at both Corlys and Rhaenys is enough, but when you turn around to greet him and his siblings, his breath gets stuck in his lungs. 

You look at him from beneath your lashes, beaming so radiantly at him that he almost forgets the pain in his eye or the pain he has caused you the last time he saw you. The world around him fades away, the noises become distance as his sky-blue eye finds yours easily, and he has to swallow sharply while he desperately tries to keep his face stoic and serious and not show you how he is panicking from inside, palms sweaty and lips drying while he gazes at you, his childhood friend who… suddenly the bubble around you breaks and he remembers how you abandoned him that night at Driftmark.

“My lady,” he says in a hushed tone, watching your reaction closely.

“My prince, it’s so good to see you again,” you grin at him, “I hope you are doing well.”

“As well as a half-blinded man can do,” averting his eye from you, he regrets the words he said immediately, flushing a bit in embarrassment, but when he looks back at you, your smile hasn’t left your face, if anything you look at him with empathy and much kindness that he has a hard time believing you are real; it’s been too long since anyone has looked at him with such sincerity.

“Darling,” Daemon steps closer to them, ruining the moment for Aemond to say something, anything to take back what he said earlier.

He watches your smile wavering a little when you look at your father, hands fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. He notices how you try to ignore your father and Rhaenyra as they approach you, a tense smile on his sister’s lips while she tightens her grip on her husband’s arm.

“We have missed you, the girls, and I,” Daemon says, reaching to caress your hair as gently as the Rogue prince can, “you did not visit us at Dragonstone.” “I don’t like it there, the castle unnerves me,” You reply softly, “I rather enjoy the silence of grandsire’s castle.” “You are a Targaryen, you should visit your ancestor’s sit,” Rhaenyra tries her best to persuade you to think about coming back with them, leaving your lovely grandparents alone.

“I’m a Velaryon just as much as I’m a Targaryen, but ‘tis not a matter we should discuss at such a joyous day, don’t you think, princess?” you say, and Aemond sees it in your eyes how desperately you wish for the conversation to end. Aemond watches his sister’s words falter, her confidence crumbling with each word that you utter. Your statement is not rude, not even filled with malicious intent, but the mention of your Mother’s side of the family makes the Targaryen couple uncomfortable.

“I would have loved to stay and talk with you, Father, but I’m afraid the journey on dragonback has left me starving. Please, excuse me,” you nod at them before walking past them to the corner where Aemond and his siblings were sitting minutes ago, reaching for a glass of wine to gulp down.

Aemond doesn’t spare a glance at the couple, following you closely so he can sit in silence and out of the sun, truly not wishing for another fit of agony that consumes his skull.

“You have grown, Aemond,” you sit beside him, turning your head to look at his side profile, “no longer the child who used to build sandcastles with me when I would visit the Keep.”

“Yes, no longer a child with friends. Spending years apart without any contact, surely you are not that surprised how I have turned out to be,” he scoffs at your words, frowning when he turns around and finds you chuckling gently, “Did I jest about something I’m not aware of?”

“No, no, I just remembered how we promised to never let anyone break us apart, but you were the first who did so; you stomped your feet on my sandcastles the morning after my Mother’s funeral. You are right though, no ravens were exchanged, but I do hope you’re still the sweet prince who helped me study.” your lips twist into a small smile.

You are not angry with him, how can you not be angry with him? You had spent hours after they freed your Mother’s soul into the sea to find the perfect place to build your sandcastles and he ruined them the morning he was about to leave.

Your teary eyes have haunted him from that moment to this day.

“I apologize, I did not wish to remind you of that night,”

“I’m reminded every time I look into a mirror, do not concern yourself.” his reply is curt as he gazes at you, your eyes full of sadness and sympathy for a man you no longer know. Or maybe you know him too much, he thinks.

“I look forward to spending time with you, my prince. I hope we can catch up on each other's lives.” “Perhaps we can,” he sounds unsure of himself, Getting to know you again while you have turned into a woman grown — the most beautiful woman he has ever seen at that — is going to be a challenge he does not know he welcomes or fears greatly.

•••••••••••

He leaves sooner than he should, hiding in his room with a warm towel on his face as he soothes the pain of his eye, the headache he had since morning finally fading away. There are so many thoughts lingering in his head, and ironically, they are all filled by you; your gown, bright smile, and gentle personality.

He groans, so frustrated that he has met you a few hours prior yet you have consumed his every thought. If he focuses hard enough, he can see the labyrinth of his nightmares, the hedges are covered in ivy, suffocating as they reach for air — he thinks of him as the hedge, and how easily he has let you wrap yourself around his thoughts this quickly.

Weak, he thinks to himself, he’s weak.

He sits up, dropping the towel in the bowl on his nightstand, breathing deeply as he looks around his dark room, spotting a lit candle on his desk in the corner.

Sometimes it baffles him how his room represents his inner self so openly; it’s not messy, no, but if you squint you can see the abandoned book in the foot of his chair, ink dripping from his pot on the carpet, the candle illuminating the trail of black paint on his desk. It seems as if his room is showing the ugly part of itself to his eye, and for a second he thinks about how he sees himself — an ugly monster with an unsightly scar.

Aemond leaves his room a few minutes after fixing his eyepatch and hair, walking to the king’s solar to join his family for dinner. He walks with his hands clasped together behind him, looking straight to avoid eye contact with anyone who sees him on his way up the stairs. He doesn't expect to see you of all people, heading out of your room to take the same path as him.

“Aemond!” You say his name with such enthusiasm that has his heart racing again, beaming at him as if you are excited to see him. How could you be this giddy to meet him? No one has expressed to be happy to spend time with him, let alone smile at him the way you do. Is this an act of modesty? It has to be, he thinks, or else it does not make sense at all.

“My lady,” he bows his head politely, “How come you are late for such an interesting gathering?”

You giggle a little, walking side by side with him, “I was spending some time with Helaena’s children. Oh, they are such sweet babes!”

“Indeed they are,” he replies quietly, watching you curiously as you round him to stand on his good side, “what are you doing, My Lady?”

“I did not realize I was on your blind side, Aemond, forgive me,” “There is nothing to forgive,” he sucks in a harsh breath, pondering over your response for the rest of the way til King���s solar. The silence is oddly comfortable even though he gets a bit nervous when you keep glancing at him. 

There’s an unusual warmth spreading through his chest, he can’t understand it — it can be his heart since it’s beating too hard and fast, or perhaps even his lungs! He can’t even breathe properly, but at the same time, he feels… right, much better than before. He blames you for the conflicted emotions, it’s all your doings, he is sure. Because whenever he looks at you, he feels as if his clothes are suffocating him, his ears ring while the world fades around him, and the center of his world becomes you.

Weak, worthless, he has just met you, yet all these years apart seem blurry to him, as if he has known you since the age of the Firstmen; so familiar and comforting, even though you left him alone the night he needed you the most.

The guards open the door to the solar, and Aemond follows you inside, his eye wandering all over the room, taking his surroundings in. His mother and Rhaenyra are sitting at the table, his nephews are standing on their mother’s side while Aegon is trying to listen to whatever lecture Otto is giving him.

He watches you walk to your sisters, wrapping your arms around Baela and Rhaena as they both start talking to you about the things they have done during the past years you’ve been Lord Corlys’ ward in Driftmark.

“You’re staring,” Daeron says out of nowhere, pulling Aemond out of his thoughts but he doesn’t look away, he keeps his eye trailing on you until you turn around and catch his eye as well, smiling broadly at him.

“I am merely observing,” he replies, but knows his brother is right. It’s only the first dinner but he can already feel his eye itching to be on you again.

“Whatever makes you happy,” Daeron shrugs, leading him to Aegon and Helaena to sit down.

He finds an empty seat next to him, thinking Daeron is the one who’d sit beside him, but when he sees it’s you who reaches for the chair, his heart leaps to his throat before he composes himself quickly, pulling it out like the prince he is.

You give a smile that is worth countless gold dragons, and for the second time today, he questions if the sapphire is a magical eye, because the world turns a bit brighter and less dull when he looks at you. He sits next to you, his eyebrows twisting into a deep frown when he sees Lucerys at the other side of the table engaged in a deep conversation with Rhaena, playing the role of the happy family quite well.

Everyone stands up when the guards bring in the King, everyone except for Helaena but neither she nor Aemond pays any attention to others. One is busy playing with her hairpin, and he is busy admiring your ethereal face as you kiss the king, your uncle’s cheek, thanking him for having you and your grandparents in his home after so many years. As soon as Viserys sits behind the table, you take your place next to him again, giving him a small smile before you turn your head to listen to what his father has to say. 

He knows what his father is about to say; first, he thanks them all for coming, paying special attention to his grandsons and Rhaenyra while he lies over and over again about how much he loves them all, how they should never let the House of the Dragon fall into ruins, oblivious to the fact that not Rhaenyra nor Alicent were the ones who broke the family into different agendas, but it was him who started the flame.

Tonight, Aemond doesn’t look at his sister to attend to her. His eye is solely on you, taking in the shape of your lashes kissing your cheekbones, carving the silhouette of your nose and lips in his memories. He looks at the way your lips curve into a grin, cheeks forming into the most beautiful shape he has ever witnessed.

You turn your head a little to glance at him, catching him red-handed while he tries to play it cool, but he finds that he is not powerful enough to look away from your blown-out pupils and the orange hue that’s cast on your irises softly.

He breaks the eye contact, a scowl forming on his face as he reaches for his goblet of wine, nearly throwing the goblet across the table when he hears Lucerys laughing at the two of you.

You beat him to it before he could open his mouth, “Is there something funny, Prince Lucerys?” your voice is so soft and slow, almost humiliatingly sweet, and funnily, it terrifies Luke. 

Aemond smirks as he watches his nephew stuttering over his words while everyone around the table sits in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the young prince to say something, anything.

“I was surprised by how fast Uncle Aemond took a liking to you, given his looks and all,”  he explains, sarcasm dripping like honey from each of his words.

Fucking bastard, Aemond thinks to himself as an ugly sneer sits on his face. As much as he wants to leap toward him and cut off his tongue, he can’t — not when you put your hand on his over the hilt of his dagger.

Your skin is so smooth atop his calloused one. The way your fingers wrap around his wrist sets his body on fire, burning the skin in a way unknown to any man, but this is no ordinary burn; there’s no trace of fire, no long-forgotten ashes of his bones are visible, instead his fingers twitch for more, begging for more skin to skin contact, but he pulls his hand away from you without looking away from Luke’s blushing face.

“Your words are mean for no reason, Lucerys, given how it’s been your doing that has caused Aemond his scar,” you say, “I find him quite handsome actually. He was my beloved friend when we were younger. There are, of course, many feelings between us. Nothing has happened out of the blue for you to mock him for.”

“I-I apologize, good sister, I wasn’t…”

“It is not me who you should apologize to, it’s Aemond. I have taken no offense on my behalf but I do believe you owe him an apology.” You explain, sipping from your glass slowly while keeping your eyes on Lucerys.

No one, not even the King has the strength to intrude into the situation, maybe in doubt of saying something to hurt you, or perhaps you’re just speaking the truth, and for once, everyone fears your gentle mannerisms.

“I apologize, uncle,” 

Aemond’s stare is blank as he looks at Luke who’s chewing the inside of his cheek in embarrassment. He nods, not bothering to reply to him; he will never forgive nor forget what he has done to him, crushing his hopes and ruining his worth for a lifetime.

“Let us put our differences aside, and become a family again,” the king says, coughing before he reaches to drink from his cup. 

The dinner goes smoothly from there and to Aemond’s surprise, he engages in more conversations with you. He does not talk too much, he’d rather listen to your giggles and stories rather than talk about his boring and miserable life.

His eye always lingers on you for far longer than it should, not in an inappropriate way, but more in a sense of intrigue and curiosity, trying to understand you from his perspective. He simply can’t though; you are worlds apart. He is a cold-hearted, broken, and worthless man when it comes to your bright and beautiful personality. Even if he gets to know you again after so many years, he would never think himself worthy enough to be in your presence.

“Aemond…?” you call his name oh so sweetly, making him feel as if he is on top of Vhagar, flying atop the city while the wind blows in his hair; it makes him feel alive.

“Yes, My Lady?”

“Are you alright? You look quite flushed,” You smile sweetly, reaching to put the back of your hand on his cheek, flustering him even more than he already is.

“Yes, yes, I might have had too much wine,” he doesn’t know who he is trying to convince; you or him? By the sound of it, it’s him who needs to be convinced that it’s the wine in his blood and not the same unknown feeling he gets when you look at him. No, it is definitely the wine. It has to be.

“Oh, well then, I wish to spend more time with you if you are not against it,”

“Why would I be?” he asks almost too quickly, making you chuckle at his… enthusiasm. If he can even call it that.

“Then I’d be overjoyed if we could rebound what we had as children.”

•••••••••••

After the dinner, something between you and Aemond shifted; he spent more time outside his room, he was calmer and less serious, and the pain in his skull was almost gone. You joined him in the library a few times in the next few days, meeting each other at your door to attend the meals side by side, and almost everyone could feel how he was changing the longer he had you close, almost turning into the little boy he once was.

Both of you forget your last interactions as an act of mercy for the other.

With your insistence, he agreed to miss the tourney being held for Jace’s nameday to sneak out of the castle and take you to the beach. He did not need much convincing, but when you gave him those doe eyes with a little pout on your lips, he felt weaker than he ever did and gave in immediately.

Aemond helps you down the rocks near the shoreline with your small hands in his, taking cautious steps down to not trip over and hurt yourself. He keeps his eye on your feet instead of his, worrying more about you than himself even though he is stepping down with his good eye on you, not looking where he is going.

That seems to be a bad decision, because the next second, not only does his foot miss a small rock, but yours slips on one too, tumbling into his arms as the two of you fall on the soft sand, Aemond’s arms wrapping tightly around your back to keep you steady.

He looks at you, panting as his eye widens at the closeness; your faces are inches away from each other, and he can feel your soft rushed exhales on his lips. You look like a goddess atop him, the sun illuminating your silver hair, reminding him of the last sennight when you arrived and your hair made your face shine even brighter.

He has never seen such a beauty before, sure he has seen the ladies of the court, but your Valyrian beauty combined with sunlight and the blue hue of the sky has him mesmerized, not realizing how his hands are gripping your waist while he stares at you.

You giggle at first, then break into a fit of laughter while you lean more into him, dropping your forehead on his shoulder as you laugh wholeheartedly.

He chuckles lowly at first, then matches your laughter and throws his head back, holding you on him by one arm while the other comes to run over his face. 

“I have never heard you laugh so freely before,” you say after you have calmed down, putting your palms on either side of his face while you hover over him.

“I don’t remember having a reason to do so,” he replies, smiling up at you.

“I’m glad that I’m able to bring joy to your life, you deserve it.” leaning down, you press a gentle kiss on his cheek before standing up, smoothing down your skirt.

He is at loss of words, speechless to his core. He deserves it, he thinks, do you truly think a monster like him deserves any chance of happiness?  How are you not disgusted by him, his scar, his sour and mean tongue? How can you ever leave a butterfly kiss on someone as unworthy as him? 

He looks at you from where he is staying lying on the sand, watching as you extend your hand to him, rocking on your heels in anticipation so you can go and wander on the beach and reunite with the sea.

He grabs your hand, standing up on his feet as well. There is sand in both of your clothes, but you have just begun your venture and won’t stop until you are satisfied.

You don’t let go of his hand when you start jogging, pulling him with you as you giggle in delight. And he observes you as he always does; wind in your hair, waves crashing against the shore while your laughter fills the air around him. He doesn’t realize his smile has widened and he is following you just as excited, letting the sand and the sea separate you from the outer world.

“You promised you would make a sandcastle for me!” you say, pulling him behind you to the spot where you would sneak away as children, sitting down to get to work.

“I did not,” he replies, unbuttoning his tunic so he can stay under the sun without being bothered by the heat.

“Fine, you did not. But you ruined the one we built together at Driftmark so you owe me one!”

He chuckles at you, his dimples on display as he shakes his head, “Alright, I will make one for you.”

It took you a good few hours to finish the sandcastle; it could have finished much sooner if you hadn’t thrown wet sand at him, cleaning your dirty hands with his white cotton undershirt just to annoy him — and it worked. In a second, he was chasing you around the beach with hands full of wet sand curved into balls, throwing them at you.

And here you are now, fingers laced together, shoes in one hand as you both walk on the shoreline, letting the waves cool your feet. You point at the sunset, leaning on his side when you come to a stop to watch the sky change color as the sun goes down.

Aemond on the other hand, looks at your calm face that is glowing under the pink and orange sunlight. How did he get so lucky to be blessed by such a beauty to lay his eye upon? Maybe he truly deserves this unknown feeling that spreads through him like fire and makes his fingers tingle and his heart beat in happiness. Maybe he deserves to be loved by you and love you unconditionally in return.

You turn around, dropping your shoes before you reach up to cup his cheeks. He closes his eye and basks in the attention you give him; so unique and pure. He drops his boots as well, arms circling your waist to pull you closer.

Aemond doesn’t dare to open his eye, fearing that he might ruin this perfect moment as you trace the lines of his lips, his cheekbones, and his jaw. You are so gentle with him, something he is not quite used to. It has always been him, alone in a cold room, but now and here with you, he feels as if he can breathe again, and forget every pain he has endured to reach this moment of his life.

“Open your eye, My Prince,” you whisper before you peck the corner of his lips, pulling him in so you can rest your forehead on his.

He obligates, sighing shakily when he finds you already looking at him. Your gaze is so genuine that somehow scares him, a rush of destructive thoughts comes into his head, but you seem to notice it from how his hands shake on your waist.

“Don’t think about anything, just… just focus on me.” 

He does as you say, his brain shutting those annoying voices at the back of his head down as soon as your nose brushes against his, your soft lips brushing over his so endearingly. He is hesitant at first but when you peck him again, he moves forward as well, meeting you halfway until his lips are locked with yours.

You taste as sweet as the strawberry cakes you had this morning, if not sweeter. The way your lips move together makes his head hazy. You are kissing his breath away, leaving him begging for more. His chest moves up and down quickly when you break the kiss, and you caress his thin swollen lips, bruised by your kisses and lack of air, while he admires you from head to toe.

The sun has set, but the glimmer of love has risen inside of Aemond’s broken heart.

•••••••••••

A kiss here and there, more sneaking around the castle and to the beach until the main event for Jace’s birthday arrives. He is in his mother’s solar, listening to her talk about how lovely you are and how much of a wonderful couple you would make with him if only you weren’t Daemon’s daughter.

“Mother—”

“You should dance with her tonight, my darling!” Alicent says, running her hands over his arms when he stands up and approaches her, “I have heard Daemon has plans of betrothing her. Obviously, he has yet to find someone suitable, but he is thinking about it.”

Aemond’s heart drops when Alicent says your father is looking for a suiter, fortunately, Alicent sees his surprise, shock, and fear. She reaches to cup his cheek, forcing him to maintain eye contact while she talks, “Don’t let her go if you truly wish to have her. I know that she would stand strong against her father and Rhaenyra, but she would need your support and love as well to feel brave enough to turn down a good match.”

“They would make her happier than I can ever do, Mother,” he replies, his voice breaking slightly. Losing you terrifies him, and he is aware that his mother can read him like an open book, shushing him while he inhales sharply.

“I have never seen her happier than I have with you, and I have never seen you this happy and lively, darling. Be selfish for once, choose your happiness this time.”

“How can I choose my happiness over her life?!” he asks harshly, frowning at his mother.

A knock interrupts Alicent before she can respond, and the guards open the door for you to step inside the queen’s room.

“Oh, I apologize, it was not my intention to interrupt you.”

Aemond seems to be struck by your beauty; your body is wrapped in a teal-colored gown with a low neckline that leaves your shoulders and collarbones on display. Your silver hair is braided with some parts of it pinned up, some strands framing your bare neck.

“You look so beautiful, my darling,” Alicent says, nudging Aemond a bit forward when she sees how he is looking at you.

“Thank you, my queen. You look very beautiful as well,” you look away from the queen, smiling when he approaches you slowly, “you said you were going to wear something close to this color and I decided it would look quite good to match. How do I look?”

“Enchanting,” he breathes out, reaching to hold your hand, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “You look breathtaking, My Lady.”

“So do you, My Prince.”

“Shall we then?” he offers you his arm and you accept without hesitation, looking back to see if the queen will come with you and she assures you she will come with the King.

“You said you were going to retrieve me from my chambers for the party,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you walk toward the great hall.

“I am deeply sorry. Mother wanted to have a word with me,” he explains, dropping a quick kiss on the crown of your head.

“Is everything alright, Aemond?” you ask him, and he chuckles at how adorably your brows twist into a frown in worry. “Yes, darling, she merely wished to remind me to make sure you have a great time tonight. You are our special guest.”

“Does that mean you will dance with me?” you ask, holding his hands in yours before you reach the hall.

“We shall see,” he brings your hands to his lips again, leading you toward the hall, bowing and nodding at the ladies and lords who take it upon themselves to greet you.

You come to a stop in front of the table, Rhaena coming to hug you and twirl you around, gasping at the sight of your beautiful gown, gasping even louder when she sees how your dress matches Aemond’s tunic.

A ghost of a smile finds its way on Aemond’s face as he watches you get flustered at your sister’s attention to details, but soon, his eye hardens when he finds his uncle glaring at the two of you. Tonight will change the course of so many lives.

He watches you laugh with your sisters, pointing at the empty chair next to you so he would sit close by all night. With one last glare at his uncle, he walks to his seat and pours wine into his cup, blushing a bit when he hears you laughing again. You are not even laughing at something he has said and he is the one who gets flushed.

He is knee-deep inside these new feelings but he welcomes the challenge with open arms. Or at least he tries to do so without Daemon being an obstacle to his plans. 

He looks at you when Rhanea and Helaena pull you to the dancefloor for the new song, pairing up with different lords to dance with, but what catches his eye, isn’t who you are dancing with, but more than who Daemon is talking to. He recognizes the lord to be from the south, probably a Tyrell, and when his uncle and the lord look in your direction, he knows something is not right, an uneasy feeling settling deep in his stomach.

He watches the lord closely as he makes his way through the crowd to get to you, bowing and introducing himself before taking your hand to dance with you. He can see how uncomfortable he is making you, probably discussing his sick desire to have a wife and kids while he dances with a Targaryen-Valeryon goddess.

“Stop glaring and do something!” Baela slides into the seat next to him, hissing the words at him while she keeps her eyes fixed on you as well, “I don’t like you, I will never like you, but you make her happy. Do something before our father ruins her life because of Rhaenyra.” “I thought you liked your stepmother,” Aemond chooses to ignore most of the things she said.

“It’s Rhaenyra’s schemes, please, Aemond, my sister deserves to feel appreciated. I have never seen any lord take an interest in her the way you have. You are the only thing she could talk about in the last few days. I will beg you if I have to.” Aemond turns his head toward Baela, letting her words calm down the hesitancy he has toward courting you. There are far more handsome men than him in the court, yet, he is the one who is blessed to hold you and kiss you, to gaze into your eyes and see forever in them.

He hisses when he feels a sting in his skull, not now, no. The pain can’t start now. He gulps his wine before he nods at Bela and stands up to walk to the crowd in the middle of the hall, catching your eyes for a second before he has to bow and start the dance with a lady he does not care to engage in a conversation with.

He thinks about how much he has changed in a few days; there will always be a part of him who thinks he’s not worthy of your affection, that you can do better than him, but also the thought of you in another man’s arms sets his skin ablaze. He is torn between keeping you all to himself or letting you have a wonderful future with another guy who can stand by your side and make you proud, who is not maimed and scarred like him.

Luckily, everyone needs to change their partner and he reaches with his hand to grab yours and pull you to his side, grinning when he hears your delighted shriek. “My Prince Aemond,” you say, squeezing his hand while the two of you twirl around the room.

 He doesn’t wish to say, but the tempo is too high for me, and it worries him that somehow he might make a fool of himself or you if he trips over someone’s shoe on his blindside.

“Lady Targaryen, you look like a Valyrian Goddess, my beloved.”

“Why thank you, my good prince. I have to say that this color truly brings out your beautiful eye,” you reply coyly, tipping your chin up while you bite your lip.

“You are playing with fire, darling.” he leans down to whisper in your ear, pressing a feather-like kiss on your earlobe without anyone noticing.

“I’m a Targaryen, Prince Aemond, fire is in my blood,”

“Is that so? Well, I must say—”

He doesn’t know what happens, or how it happens, but in a second he can’t see you when he twirls you around him, and suddenly, the weight of your waist isn’t in his hand anymore.

“Aemond!” you fall down by his feet, and he sees that his boots have caught the edge of your heels, making you twist your ankle in the wrong way and causing your fall.

What have I done?

What have I done?

I dropped her.

I did this.

What happened?

His eye has widened in fear, and he is frozen in place, hands shaking slightly as he feels the crowd around you look in your direction, staring and gaping at him before the hushed whispers start to fill the room.

“Aemond, look—”

He can’t look at you. He will never be able to live with himself for humiliating you in the way he did tonight.

Stupid, weak, useless good for nothing, Aemond. If another lord was dancing with her, he wouldn’t have dropped her. A prince but less worthy than a common whore. 

With trembling lips, and a pain blooming in his eyesocket, he dashes out of the room, leaving you on the floor. 

His vision is blurry, the pain is getting worse and the air is stuck in his lungs. He can’t breathe, no, he doesn’t deserve to breathe. How can he when all he wanted to do was to dance with you but ended up hurting you? How could he hurt you like this? 

He skips the steps, running to his room while he groans in pain, the stinging is getting stronger, the agony in his nerves is spreading through his skull and it only gets worse when he opens the door to his chambers to find not only scented candles but the windows and the balcony door is open as well.

“You are dismissed!” he shouts at the guard before he slams the door shut, “Ah!” He tumbles down, gripping the nearest chair to keep himself on his feet at least before he falls on his knees, clawing at the eyepatch to pull it off as if it’s burning his skin.

The pain is like a dagger, stabbing him over and over again until even his knees don’t have the strength to keep him up. He falls on the floor, curling into a ball while the pain spreads through his face, and he finally breaks down, bursting into tears from agony and humiliation. If only he wasn’t in pain… if only his eye wasn’t cut out…

Aemond doesn’t hear when the door opens, nor he can see who the person is. Tears have flooded his vision, but as soon as he feels your soft hand on his arms, trying to help him sit up, he flinches, backing away from you while he gasps for air, feeling his tunic clinging to his sweaty body. 

“Aemond, please let me—” “No, no, no, no…” he stands up hurriedly, walking to the balcony on unsteady legs to get some air in his lungs, only to be met by a freezing wind that makes the chronic pain in his eye even worse. He drops to his knees again, this time the sounds of his gasps and painful yelps are louder than before.

You rush to his side, kneeling in front of him to cup his cheeks, kissing his clammy forehead before you wipe his tears away gently. He lets you touch him this time, too exhausted to utter a word, to push you away even if he has to.

“It’s going to be okay, Aemond, let me help you,” You help him on his feet, making sure to have your arms wrapped tightly around him while he leans his weight on you, trusting you to take care of him, even though the voice in the back of his head is telling him to push you out of his room.

“Gently, my love, gently,” you help him lay down on the bed, pecking his cheek again, rising to get the smoke out of the room but his hands shot up and grabs your forearm tightly.

“Stay, please,” he whimpers, his beautiful eye tearing in pain.

“I will, my dearest, I just need to blow out the candles and close the windows, and I’ll be back in bed with you.” You reach and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss upon his knuckles before he lets you go.

He can’t see you clearly, but your shadow moves from side to side frantically, blowing the candles on the balcony so the smoke won’t get inside again, shutting the windows quickly so the cold wind doesn’t bother him anymore before you come to bed again.

You unlace your gown, taking it off so you can tend to him more easily, pulling at the few pins inside your head to let the strands fall freely around your shoulders. You climb onto the bed, a jar of his salve and ointment in hand with clean rags in your other as you sit comfortably next to him, helping him take off his tunic and pants.

Aemond lies on the pillow on your lap, sniffing as you look at his face; bare and raw of emotions with his sapphire glinting in the low lights of the room.

“My love, you need to help me pull the gem out,” you whisper, almost sound scared of him, or scared of what you might see.

“No, it is an unbecoming sight—”

“Nothing about you is unbecoming. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on, and for you and your suffering, I begged my grandma to allow me to study about your condition with the Maesters,” you lean to kiss the bridge of his nose, “the skin around your eyesocket is swollen, if we do not pull it out now, it shall make it more unbearable for you.”

He hesitates for a moment. While he would love to ask you about why you studied something so gruesome because of him, he can’t help but feel so wanted. The pain is getting worse, sure, he has to pull the gem out anyway but to hear you say how you have begged Rhaenys to let you partake in those classes, to maybe someday help him with his pain… that truly makes him feel fuzzy all over.

“Alright…” he whispers, gritting his teeth in pain as he reaches out with his fingers to grab the side of the gem, pulling it out slowly while he groans and the pain nearly knocks him out. “Shouldn’t we use something more—” “Take it out, take it out—I don’t care how!”

You nod, tears falling from your eyes as you watch him writhe in pain more as the two of you pull his sapphire out, leaving a heavily swollen and empty eyesocket on display. His hand falls limp on the bed while you drop the gem into a clean bowl before pouring some of the ointment on a rag, gently holding his face in one hand while the other daps slowly over the scar and his ripped eyelids, pressing a few kisses here and there to soothe his whimpering.

He clings to your arms and waist tightly, letting his tears fall freely while you soothe his pain away, falling into slumber easily beneath your gentle touch.

•••••••••••

He is running.

Where is he? Why is he running?

He looks around him, finding himself in the labyrinth he always sees in his dreams.

The hedges are covered in ivy, the walls have gotten taller and the paths are thinner.

What’s this smell?

He steps closer to the source of it, taking different routes until the smell gets worse and stronger. He knows where the center of the maze is, he has been here countless times.

He turns around, finding the space of the labyrinth of his dream, but he doesn’t expect to see you there, not while standing with your nightshift covered in maroon, hands dripping with thick droplets of blood as you look at him horrifyingly.

“Darling, are you alright?”

“Don’t- don’t come closer,” you say, taking a step away from him.

“I don’t understand, why—” “You did this to me!” screaming at him, your hands cover your heart, and he finally sees how your chest has been ripped open and blood gushes out of the wound.

“I was not here—”

“You did this to me! You hurt me, Aemond!”

“Aemond!”

“Aemond!”...

He jolts up, gasping for air, hands clutching the bedsheets as he experiences another nightmare. He looks at you, finding you awake and alarmed while you rub his back, eyes filled with worry and pain for him.

“You should leave,” his voice is barely above whispering, his nails digging into the palms of his hand while he blinks his tears away.

“Aemond—” “I will only hurt you, why don’t you understand?!” he asks, raising his voice a little. 

He is torn between needing you to wishing you were gone; he can’t cope if he ever hurts you again.

“You have not hurt me, you won’t hurt me.” “I killed you in my dream! You fell in front of everyone and twisted your ankle because of me, I humiliated you! How can you say I won’t fucking hurt you? I have already done it.” He explains, but instead of pushing you away, he welcomes you when you pull him down into your embrace, holding his head tightly in your neck as he sobs uncontrollably.

“It’s not your fault, I should have been more careful. I won’t let you ruin yourself for something that was a mistake on my behalf.” you kiss the side of his face, rocking him from side to side while he calms down eventually.

“Don’t push me away, I love you, Aemond. Let me be here and help you carry this heavy pain with you.”

He doesn’t reply, but his arms tighten around you.

He looks at how you lay back on the pillows, gently pulling him in your arms until he is lying in your chest while you play with his hair.

“Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

•••••••••••

He opens his eye slowly when he feels someone caressing his hair, pressing butterfly kisses all over his face. Smiling a little, he finds you admiring him in his sleep, taking notes of every line and deep of his skin.

“It’s very rude to stare,” he says, his voice thick and raspy from all the crying he did last night.

“Not when he is my lover,” you whisper back, nuzzling your nose against his, “you look like a fairy when you sleep.”

“No one has ever told me that. How do you come up with such unique ways to describe me?” He leans over, pressing a kiss on your shoulder while he waits for you to answer.

“You are a wonderful muse for poetry, I shall start writing about your hair and eye!”

He keeps his lips sealed to your skin, sucking and nibbling until he is satisfied with the marks he has left. His pupil is blown out with a newfound lust; how can he not desire you when you are lying in his arms with your wild white hair plastered over his pillows?

“You are staring,” he chuckles at how breathless you sound. He hasn’t even begun to do anything and he already has you melting under his touch.

“Can you blame me? I have the most exquisite lady of the realm in my bed.”

“What happened to the insecure boy I held last night?” You ask while leaning up towards him, pushing him down on his back so you can straddle his narrow hips.

“It’s still here with us in this room, but he has begun to heal. You have helped him when he had no one,” his palms rest on your thighs.

“I need you,” it comes more as a plea, but Aemond obliges and flips the two of you over, hiding his face in your neck to prep it with kisses while he whispers that he needs you too.

“I love you, darling,” he whispers, craning his neck to catch your lips in a kiss, moving them together with a rhythm that encourages him to take the next step.

His hand inches downward, pushing past the fabric of your underwear to find you already wet for him.

“I-I have already lost my maidenhand…”

“I don’t care, I have you now,”

He silences your whine with another deep kiss, his fingers circling your clit until you are squirming and bucking your hips into his palm, your arms pulling him in by the shoulders.

He breaks the kiss, watching you take a deep breath when he pushes one digit inside while he tugs at the front of your shift, pulling it down until your tits are on display. He covers your chest with marks and bruises the same time another finger enters you, making you gasp loudly in pleasure.

He stretches you on his fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly at first, but soon he is speeding up, his patience running thin as he scissors you open not roughly to make it hurt, but to make sure you are ready to take him.

“A-Aemond, please, need you closer,”

He nods because he too can feel the need to become one with you, to take you as his, or more so you take him as yours.

His breeches are thrown on the floor, followed by his undershirt immediately as he takes home between your spread legs, one hand holding him up while the other guides his throbbing cock to your entrance. You both gasp in union when his tip nudges past your muscles, pushing in slowly and gently until he is sheathed inside you completely.

You throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist while your nails dig into his naked chest as he lets you get adjusted to his size.

“Can I move?” He asks, leaning down over you as he cages you beneath him, both of his forearms holding himself up against the pillow under your head.

You nod, looking at him with pleading eyes, and he finally caves in and moves slowly; pulling his hips back a little before driving in.

The next minutes pass by him gently making love to you, circling his hips and kissing you, bringing you closer and closer to your highest point. You know you both are close when his groans and moans grow louder, and your voice matches his tone as he quickenes his pace, the loud sounds of skin slapping against each other echoing in the chambers of the prince.

You both finish together; you with a gasp of his name, and him with a loud groan of yours as he fills you and you gush around him. He trembles above you, whether it is for the climax he experiences or the overwhelming love he holds for you. 

He watches your face twist in pleasure — the pleasure he is giving you — and he memorizes every sound, counting each lash that he can while he himself rides his high with you.

He drops face down on the bed next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath as you look at each other with a satisfied expression on your faces.

“They would ask about our whereabouts if we are late for breakfast.” You say, giggling when he groans in absolute disgust — he is not ready to leave this room and face the world again when he knows he can stay and take you again, thrive in your attention and love for all day.

“Must you ruin this moment for us? Now I can only think about how to face your father after what we did.”

“You should look him in the eye and ask for my hand,” you sit up, throwing the cover off of you before getting off the bed “and you shall do it with the braids I do for you,”

“You are impossible,” he says, but he knows that behind his words, there is no hidden intent, nothing but adoration and playfulness.

“Come, sit!” You pull him off the bed as well, leading him to his vanity before pushing him down on the chair, both of you stark naked as you brush his hair slowly.

He looks at himself in the mirror, and for the first time in years, his reflection doesn’t disgust him, it doesn’t scare him or make him self-conscious. He feels… beautiful, he feels worthy again of having this life, having you as his.

“Do you wish to know what I see when I look at you?” You ask him, letting his soft hair fall around his shoulders before you lean down, wrapping your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He nods, hands coming to cover yours where they caress the skin above his heart.

“I see a broken man who needed to be saved. I see a boy, fierce and strong as he claims the largest dragon alive. I see my friend who danced with me in different gatherings, my beloved friend who built sandcastles with me and helped me with my Valyrian studies. I see my Aemond, finally freed from the labyrinth of his mind.”

[solkara]

❛ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐒 , jacaerys velaryon ❜

⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , your life had been in essos and you thought it would remain that way until you were called to kings landing where a certain dark haired heir stole your heart

⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , jacaerys velaryon x fem! red priestess! reader

⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , tbh idk if I should do a part 2 for this or not let me know if you guys would be interested in it or . . .

house of the dragon masterlist

⌗ the first targaryen you ever met was daemon. the two of you were introduced during his and his wife laena's time in essos. as one of the prince of essos personal red priestesses. your prince going to great lengths to show off his powerful witches and wealth. you were intrigued by them. you had heard a lot about targaryen's and their history. and part of you was curious if all the rumours you had heard were true or not.

⌗ and you got your chance to see for yourself. as you wandered the castle trying to tier yourself so you could finally find sleep. you ended up walking into daemon. and some how the two of you ended up talking all night long. asking each other questions about the other heritage and culture. and by the end of the night you could happily say your curiosity had been fed.

⌗ in the following day you ended up befriending laena as well. the two white haired taking a massive liking to you. as since they didn't have any children of their own yet. they treated you like theirs. and once baela and rhaena were born you became like an older sister to them. and you were very much considered apart of their family.

⌗ which was why laena's death hurt you so much. once new's had broken the first thing you did was hold the two young girls that were like sisters to you. and the three of you sat on the roof of the castle and cried until the sun rose.

⌗ and what hurt you even more was that you couldn't even attend the funeral. your prince and fellow red preistesses forbidding you claiming you were far to young to travel so far. and that instead you should focus on perfecting you magic. to which you begrudgingly agreed and after bidding a tearful farwell to the ones you had called family for so long. you were alone. with nothing but your magic to keep you company.

⌗ obviously you kept in touch. sending letters to the father and daughter trio. but other than that you completely dedicated yourself to training your magic to become stronger. and as the years passed you only seemed to grow more and more powerful. and while you were happy about your progress part of you still craved to explore the world. venture beyond essos and see what else the world had to offer.

⌗ and your opportunity finally came. when one day you were summoned by your prince. who informed you that you were leaving for king's landing. that the newly crowned queen rhaenyra targaryen asked for you. offering you a place on her council. as the positive words of her husband had not gone unnoticed.

⌗ so you departed essos. and made your way to king's landing were you were greeted by some faces. some old some new. "my queen, my king" you said curtseying deeply. but before you could say anything else you were thrown into the embrace of two very familiar forms. baela and rhaena. and with the greetings done. you were partially dragged inside.

⌗ it was rather easy for you to settle in. the targaryens had been nothing but welcoming. one in particular. jace. as it was no secret the heir had grown awfully fond of you. going as far to ask for the creation of a r'hollor template to be made for you. which you greatly appreciated. though you wouldn't deny it made your heart flutter a bit.

⌗ rhaenyra seemed to notice her son's fondness for you. and if anything she encroaged it. as she loved you as if you were her own child. always valuing your opinion and input on matters in small council. so when she noticed her eldest infatuation with her. she was overjoyed as the queen wouldn't deny that the thought of the two of you being wed had crossed her mind before. but if her son was going to court you rhaenyra was going to make sure that he did it properly.

⌗ the following moons were intresting. to say they least. you did you regular council duties as normal. but the moment you were finished you were swept away. showered in gifts and affection. taken on rides on dragonback. which did take quite a bit of convincing. and at some point in the middle. you could well and truly say you had fallen in love with jacaerys velaryon.

⌗ the realisation hit you hard and fast. as here you were looking at this beautiful man in front of you. an angel in the flesh. and he was asking for your hand in marriage. what had you done in your past life to become so luck. and while he waited for a response. you leaned forward and kissed him. "is that an answer for you my prince?" you asked coyly. "plenty good princess"

anon , Jacaerys x red priestess reader where she's from the cult of R'hllor and came to be a close counselor to Rhaenyra, and they go to winterfell together

[aphroditelovesu]

Valyrian Heritage | Yan!Mom Rhaenyra Targaryen, Yan!Dad Laenor Velaryon

— summary: Being the only legitimate child of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon is not an easy task and you have learned the truth the hard way.

❝warnings: is not compatible with canon, Reader is referred to as having classic Valyrian characteristics, mention of violence, insults to the Velaryon brothers, and yandere platonic relationships, messy writing.

❝ 🐉 lady l: I don't know if it was good and I apologize for that. This imagine focuses more on the drama and I would love to write a sequel if anyone wants! Good reading and drink plenty of water. Love you all.

❝word count: 1,877.

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen's screams could be heard throughout most of the Red Keep.

The princess had gone into labor over two hours ago and everyone was looking forward to the birth of Rhaenyra and Laenor's first child. Even though some had different motives and some were more selfish than others, anxiety could still be felt.

After what seemed like days of excruciating pain, a loud sound of crying was heard inside Rhaenyra's room.

''Shh...'' Rhaenyra whispered to the crying baby in her arms, trying to calm them down. She had no experience with this, however, this was her first child.

But she loved them. Oh, and how she loved them. Rhaenyra never thought she could love someone as much as she loved her child the first moment she held them in her arms.

She knew she would do anything for them.

Laenor entered the room at the exact moment the baby finally stopped crying and was about to fall asleep. Rhaenyra looked at him sternly and her husband was silent.

He approached silently and Rhaenyra handed him the baby.

''They are beautiful.'' Laenor whispered, moved. They looked exactly like their parents, the very definition of a valyrian. A few silver strands, its father's nose, its mother's skin, and beautiful dark purple eyes when they opened their eyes for the first time.

''They are.'' Rhaenyra confirmed, sitting down again. She was very tired and wanted to rest for a while.

''What's their name?'' Laenor murmured, looking fondly at the baby in his arms. So perfect, his child was so perfect.

Rhaenyra thought for a few minutes and then smiled, ''(Y/N) Targaryen.''

Laenor faced his wife and smiled in agreement, ''(Y/N) Velaryon.''

Rhaenyra smiled at her husband. Yes, Velaryon and Targaryen. It didn't really matter as this child was the product of both sides and she knew she would care for and protect them no matter what.

It was with these thoughts and the comfort in knowing that her child was being well looked after by the drooling father who cooed lovingly at the baby, that Rhaenyra finally allowed herself to fall asleep.

Later that day, Rhaenys and Corlys went to visit (Y/N). Laena could not be present, unfortunately, but she had sent a letter congratulating her brother and cousin on the birth of their child. Rhaenys had this letter with her when she entered the room with her husband.

Rhaenyra was holding her baby protectively and Laenor was glued to her side, arms crossed and staring at Alicent suspiciously.

Alicent had also entertained the idea of meeting her grandchild and Rhaenyra didn't seem willing to let her stepmother get her hands on her child.

''Let me see my grandchild!'' Corlys said excitedly and approached the protective mother. Rhaenyra looked at him for a few seconds, sighed and handed the baby to her father-in-law.

''They look like you, Laenor.'' Rhaenys commented after picking up her grandchild. Laenor smiled proudly.

In fact, (Y/N) looked like him even though they were so young. Laenor was sure that when they grow up they will be just like him. A powerful feeling took over Laenor's body. And he smiled even more at that.

Pride. He was completely proud.

Alicent approached Rhaenys, ''Let me see them.'' She said softly but firmly. Rhaenys hesitated a little, but let Alicent take her grandchild.

Rhaenyra was alarmed and Laenor placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her.

It's okay, Alicent would never dare do something with so many witnesses. Rhaenyra's shoulders relaxed a little but there was a tension present.

Alicent rocked the baby in her arms lovingly, smiling at them. They were beautiful, she thought. A pang of envy rose within the Queen. She wanted (Y/N) to be hers.

She blinked in surprise. That was it? But it was and Alicent knew it. Part of her knew that Rhaenyra wouldn't be a good mother to (Y/N) and she wanted to prevent future disappointments for them.

"They need to sleep." Rhaenyra said suddenly, standing up with her husband's help. Alicent looked at her skeptically and reluctantly handed (Y/N) over to Rhaenyra.

Rhaenys watched Alicent carefully and Corlys looked suspicious. The Queen was forced to retreat.

For now.

"I need to go see Aegon." Alicent stated to no one in particular, "But I will visit (Y/N) again with Viserys later."

Rhaenyra's only response was a slight nod, but she wasn't really paying attention.

Under the watchful eyes of the three Velaryon's present, Alicent left the room with hesitation and disgust.

As you grew, everything changed and it wasn't just your growth.

But family intrigues.

You had been the only legitimate child of the marriage of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon.

Everyone knew that Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey were bastards and sons of Harwin Strong. There was no denying it, not when you were Laenor's legitimate child, not when you looked exactly like him.

Not even Viserys had any arguments for that. And Alicent, Criston and Otto always made sure of reminding Rhaenyra about this.

Jacaerys' birth was a stab in the chest for Rhaenys and Corlys. And a triumph for Alicent.

You were only a year older than Jace, but you loved him deeply. It didn't matter that Jacaerys was different and this difference became even more visible after he grew up.

It didn't matter because you loved him. You loved Jace, you loved Luce, and you loved Joffrey. You loved all of your younger siblings and defended them fervently when their appearance was brought up. You constantly fought with Aegon and Aemond about it.

You got along well with Alicent and Viserys' children, your aunt and uncles. Mainly Helaena. You adored her, so sweet and so kind and she loved you fervently in return. It was very common for you to be together.

One day, you were in your room reading a book that Rhaenyra gave you and Aemond ran into your room. You dropped the book and got up in a hurry.

''What happened?'' Your voice was serious and Aemond blinked and pulled you into a hug, seeking comfort.

''They gave me a pig!''

You frowned, ''W-What?''

''Aegon, Jacaerys and Lucerys!'' Aemond held you tighter and every word that came out of his mouth was full of hatred. ''They said they were going to give me a dragon and they brought me a pig!''

Oh. You squeezed him back, trying to comfort your uncle.

''I'll talk to them.'' You stated and Aemond muttered a thank you under his breath, squeezing you as if his life depended on it.

When you scolded Aegon and your younger brothers, Aemond could be seen smiling creepily in the background.

You loved your entire family, your paternal and maternal grandparents, your parents, your uncles, your aunt, your brothers, all of them. And being a Velaryon and a Targaryen was amazing, but you felt trapped sometimes.

Trapped by your family.

You were often seen as the anchor of your family. What held them all together.

And you always agreed with that. Many of the fights that occurred you had to get involved in to separate both sides and as you grew up, you noticed it even more.

You realized that your family would never truly be reunited. And you found that out the hard way.

It was during the funeral of Laena Velaryon, your late aunt. You didn't spend much time with her but you felt sad. You stayed close to your grandparents and your father the whole time, trying to comfort them for the loss of their daughter and sister. They felt immensely grateful to have you there.

You have finally met your great-uncle, the infamous Daemon Targaryen. The Rogue Prince.

He was everything the stories said. You felt uncomfortable with his strange looks in your direction and clung even tighter to your father who noticed Daemon's looks.

Laenor looked at Daemon suspiciously and pulled you away. Neither you nor your father noticed Daemon's eyes darken.

You lay in your room, trying to fall asleep when you were called to Driftmark's main hall after an accident involving your uncles and brothers. It wasn't until you found out what happened to Aemond that you knew all was lost.

You gasped in horror when you saw Aemond's face. Mutilated and missing an eye.

You approached him, under the burning gazes of those present. Alicent was furious and Viserys did nothing.

Your heart skipped a beat when Alicent stole Viserys' dagger and stormed off to try and gouge out Lucerys's eye in revenge. Your mother got in front and she was cut off.

You watched in horror at the cut and the way the blood dripped onto the floor. Aemond hugged you tighter and said everything was fine for his mother. It had been a fair exchange, he had lost a eye but had gained a dragon.

You knew the eye story wouldn't end there and you had confirmation years later.

You were stroking your mother's hair while she was being stitched up by the maester. You agonized every time the needle penetrated her soft skin and did your best to try and ease her pain.

Rhaenyra appreciated your concern and kissed your cheek after scolding your brothers.

Laenor entered the room and you hugged him, ''My child... I'm glad everything is okay with you'' He whispered against your hair, squeezing you tightly.

''I'm fine, dad. Mom is the one who's hurt.'' You mumbled. Laenor hugged you for a few more minutes and let you go, he turned and looked at Rhaenyra.

''I'm sorry for what happened to you and our children.'' Laenor took a deep breath and took a chair next to her. You stayed silent watching your parents interact.

Rhaenyra shook her head, ''It's not your fault.''

''No, it's not but I can't help but feel guilty. I've been neglecting you and Jace and Luce and Joffrey. And I regret that.''

Rhaenyra reached out and touched his arm, ''It's not your fault.'' She repeated again, with more firmness in her voice.

''I hate that I'm not the husband you needed, the father our children need.'' He whispered, ''I hate the way the gods made me.''

Your heart sank and you went to your father's side, hugging him. He smiled weakly at your affection.

''I don't hate.'' You mumbled.

''Neither do I.'' Your mother stated, ''You are a good and honorable man. That's something rare.'' They smiled and you felt lighter on that tragic day.

''I'm going to change. I will become a better husband and father.'' Your father said and pulled you into his arms, you smiled and hugged him back. Rhaenyra got up from her chair and walked over to you. She wrapped her arms around you and hugged you too.

You stayed for a while hugging your parents, feeling grateful for the peace that dominated your heart for a few minutes.

Because you knew it wouldn't last. Not when the next day a tragedy involved your entire family.

Dragons roared and storms broke out in the tragic night.

[hyperfixatedimagines]

The Queen’s Ward (Alicent x f!reader)

Summary: Alicent and the lady (y/n) Velaryon had never seen eye to eye but as Lady (y/n) is forced to be a ward underneath the Queen’s icy gaze she finds that Alicent is not all that she seems, and that while her gaze is icy her touch is quite hot.

A/N: This is my take on book canon Alicent. Very much not canon compliant. It’s a little smutty but nothing crazy. As always, let me know what you think!

From a young age (y/n) had been the very image of elegance and grace. Her manners were impeccable and her beauty immeasurable. Princess Rhaenys had weathered a lifetime of compliments about (y/n) by the time (y/n) was ten years of age.

The dragon egg placed in her bed never hatched but (y/n) claimed Silverwing at the age of seven. The she-dragon had been spotted resting in the sand dunes of Driftmark one summer and (y/n) was determined to claim her birthright.

And claimed it she did. Silverwing bonded to her instantly.

To the world, especially to lady Alicent Hightower, it seemed as though Lady (y/n) had no flaws. She was perfect. 

While Princess Rhaenyra was dubbed the realm’s delight, young lady (y/n) was dubbed the realm’s beauty.

As (y/n) grew, so did the pressure for her to marry. Lord Corlys had been approached by many, many, suitors by the time (y/n) had her first moon blood but Rhaenys had always fought against it.

Princess Rhaenys had realized that two of her children were different. Laenor did not care for girls and (y/n) did not care for boys. (y/n) was much more skilled in disguising such a fact but Rhaenys saw through it.

Unfortunately, Rhaenys would not always be able to protect her eldest daughter from the politics of their station.

-

(y/n)’s favorite summers were the ones she spent out at sea with her father, where court graces were not expected and it mattered more that she could successfully steer a ship than if her needlework was precise. Out at sea with her father and his crew she could breathe a little easier.

But her second favorite summers were those spent with her cousin, Rhaenyra, in King’s Landing.

Princess Rhaenyra was, in many ways, what (y/n) always wished to be. Princess Rhaenyra could do as she pleased. She had no care for propriety or what others would say. She was free.

(y/n) envied that in many ways. She was always painfully aware of how she had to behave to be the very image of perfection. It was the only armor she had in a world that would see her dead if she ever revealed who she truly was.

But when (y/n) was with Rhaenyra she could be a little freer.

The only downside to spending time with her cousin was the fact that Rhaenyra was good friends with Alicent Hightower.

Alicent was four years their senior but Rhaenyra had become quite taken with her.

Rhaenyra saw Alicent much the way Laena saw (y/n). So Rhaenyra never believed (y/n) when (y/n) expressed her distrust of Alicent.

(y/n) never had proof of Alicent’s duplicitous nature but she never felt at ease near the Hightower girl. She could never name why, but eventually she would know the reason all too well.

-

All Alicent’s girlhood she had heard the many praises of (y/n) Velaryon.

(y/n) Velaryon was graceful. (y/n) Velaryon was beautiful. (y/n) Velaryon was perfect.

Alicent hated (y/n) Velaryon.

And then she actually met (y/n) Velaryon.

She met (y/n) one summer early on in her time at the Red Keep. Alicent watched (y/n) and Rhaenyra play in the gardens from afar. 

She couldn’t help but admit that (y/n) Velaryon really was beautiful.

Alicent’s stomach filled with butterflies the first time (y/n) had spoken to her.

(y/n)’s smile was bright like the sun, and just as warm.

The two girls had been friends at first. But that friendship didn’t last long.

Alicent became ambitious. Just as ambitious as her father, Otto Hightower. With that ambition came the realization that she felt something sinful towards (y/n).

Alicent felt desire. Desire for a girl.

And she would not let that desire be her ruin. She was going to be queen one day.

-

Alicent had just turned eight and ten. (y/n) was four and ten, as was Rhaenyra.

The Queen had died, and the King needed to remarry.

Many young women had been brought forth as eligible brides, including Alicent and (y/n).

Lord Corlys had never pressured his daughter or his wife on the idea of (y/n)’s marrying, until the King needed a new wife. Corlys desired nothing more than his blood on the iron throne. This was his shot.

“(y/n), it is time for you to do your duty as a lady of House Velaryon and wed,” Lord Corlys had declared.

(y/n)’s protests fell on deaf ears. Her father would not be moved, and her mother could not help her.

So (y/n) sought refuge in the many empty halls of the Red Keep. She sat behind one of the hall’s large stone pillars and cried.

She knew that Rhaenyra and Laena would be in her chambers waiting for her and she could not bear to be near them in her state.

So (y/n) brought her knees to her chest and buried her face in her legs.

“I did not think you were capable of such cries of sorrow,” a cold but alluring voice said beside her.

(y/n) lifted her face and found Alicent standing against the wall opposite her.

Lady (y/n) wiped away the remaining tears with the sleeve of her dress.

“Lady Alicent. I apologize you had to hear that.”

Alicent shrugged. “Your tears matter not to me.” She approached (y/n) and lowered her face to (y/n)’s. “Although, seeing the realm’s beauty driven to tears is a pretty sight to see,” Alicent said with a smirk.

(y/n) stood and dusted herself off. She would not let Alicent get to her.

So she smiled a tight smile. “I must be on my way. Good day Lady Alicent.”

But just as (y/n) went to walk away Alicent reached out and grabbed (y/n) by the arm.

Alicent pulled (y/n) back. “We have not seen one another in quite some time (y/n). It would be rude not to dine and catch up as old friends do.”

(y/n) clenched her jaw. Dining with Alicent was the last thing she wanted to do. Then she sighed. She would probably be queen and as such she had to embody the best of the realm’s manners.

“Perhaps we can meet for tea later this evening, but I must take my leave now. Excuse me.”

(y/n) tried to pull away but Alicent would not let go. (y/n) looked down at her arm then up at Alicent. 

This was most impolite. (y/n) couldn’t imagine what had possessed Alicent to be so rude with her.

“You’re not excused (y/n).” 

(y/n) met Alicent’s gaze. She found nothing but determination, and anger, in Alicent’s gaze. It frightened (y/n), but it also made her feel alive. 

“Lady Alicent, I ask that you please-”

Alicent stepped closer toward (y/n), their noses just a breath apart.

“I know your father wants the King to marry you, but you will never be Queen.”

(y/n) furrowed her brows. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because I will  be Queen,” Alicent spat in response.

“I care not for the crown. I will pray the Gods grant it to you,” (y/n) replied.

Alicent’s gaze flickered down to (y/n)’s lips then back to meet (y/n)’s gaze. 

“You are a fool not to take the crown for yourself.”

(y/n) pulled out of Alicent’s grasp. She stepped away from the older girl and shrugged.

“Then I am a fool, Lady Alicent.”

Alicent watched (y/n) walk away, the daughter of the sea snake had some bite in her after all.

-

Just as Alicent had declared, the crown was hers. Everyone but Lord Corlys Velaryon was in high spirits during the King’s wedding.

But no one was more gay than Lady (y/n). She had been saved by the girl she liked the least.

(y/n) made it a point to thank the new Queen.

The young Velaryon girl watched as Queen Alicent walked out of the great hall. 

She followed her.

Once they were out in the courtyard (y/n) called out to the Queen.

“Your Grace.”

Alicent smiled at the sound of (y/n)’s voice. She quickly schooled her features into feigned annoyance as she whipped around to face (y/n).

“What is it?”

(y/n) bowed and smiled at Alicent. “I wanted to thank you.”

Alicent almost didn’t register what (y/n) had said, the sight of the realm’s beauty bowing to her occupied her sole focus. After a moment Alicent looked away from (y/n). “Thank me?”

“I am safe from being married off once again. So I wanted to thank you.”

Alicent’s gaze snapped back towards (y/n). She furrowed her brows. 

“You truly are a fool (y/n). I am the Queen of the seven kingdoms. You can’t imagine the power I have now.”

(y/n) let out a small laugh. “I don’t wish for power, your Grace. But I’m glad you have what you have always wanted.”

Alicent stared at (y/n), confused. “If you don’t wish for power, what do you wish for?”

“I don’t know,” (y/n) replied, avoiding Alicent’s gaze.

Alicent stepped towards (y/n)

“Your Queen orders you to speak the truth.”

(y/n) looked up and swallowed hard. “I want to never marry.”

(y/n) sighed loudly. She had never actually said that out loud, to anyone.

Alicent’s stomach filled with butterflies. It made her very happy to hear (y/n) had no desire for marriage. Butterflies still filled her stomach whenever (y/n) was near, and the thought of (y/n) marrying filled Alicent with dread.

“Why,” Alicent asked.

(y/n) looked taken aback by Alicent’s question. She looked away from the Queen.

“That does not matter.”

Alicent furrowed her brows once more.  “If I ask you a question lady (y/n) you answer it.”

(y/n) clenched her jaw. Only Alicent would take (y/n)’s thanks as an opportunity to debase her.

“I do not wish to leave my family to bear children for some lord and be a slave to his every whim.”

Alicent stepped closer to (y/n) once more. “A woman’s highest honor is to wed and birth a man’s children.”

(y/n) held Alicent’s gaze. “I don’t agree, your Grace.”

Alicent tilted her head slightly, appraising (y/n) in the faint moonlight of the hall. “What if you loved  him, and he loved you?”

“I don’t believe in love,” (y/n) replied.

Alicent brows raised. “The realm’s beauty doesn’t believe in love?”

“Do you?” (y/n) countered, though she knew the truth.

(y/n) knew Alicent loved power. She didn’t think the new Queen was capable of loving anyone or anything else.

Alicent’s gaze flickered to (y/n)’s lips, then (y/n)’s bosom, then back up to (y/n)’s eyes. 

“Maybe I do,” Alicent whispered. 

No one had ever looked at her that way Alicent was looking at her.

(y/n)’s heart started to race. “You do?”

Alicent raised her hand and cupped (y/n)’s face. She ran her thumb across (y/n)’s cheek.

“Of course.”

(y/n)’s skin burned under Alicent’s touch, but (y/n) liked the heat. 

She had never felt that way before. (y/n) looked down at Alicent’s lips. 

She had kissed girls before. Silly games girls played, practice for their husbands they would say as they giggled and twirled their hair in between their fingers.

(y/n) wondered if Alicent had ever played such games.

(y/n) stepped towards Alicent, their faces just a breath apart. 

Alicent smiled. 

(y/n) detected no malice in her smile. She smiled back.

“I-,” (y/n) stammered. 

The magic of the pair’s private moment burst when Princess Rhaenyra ran out of the great hall and into the corridor, screaming (y/n)’s name.

Alicent pulled away from (y/n) and cleared her throat. She started down the hall, not once looking back at (y/n).

The night’s cold breeze replaced Alicent’s hot touch and a shiver ran along (y/n)’s back.

Princess Rhaenyra reached the pair and tugged on (y/n)’s arm. “Cousin, they brought out more lemon cakes.”

(y/n) watched Alicent walk away. Rhaenyra’s pleas barely registered in (y/n)’s ears.

All she could feel was the ghost of Alicent’s thumb on her cheek.

-

Many moons passed and with them came the dawn of war. Corlys Velaryon took his son and his men and set out for war alongside Prince Daemon Targaryen. They warred to secure the islands known as the Stepstones.

While Lord Corlys warred, his wife Princess Rhaenys ruled Driftmark. At her side was her eldest daughter, Lady (y/n).

Lady (y/n) had taken to helping her mother rule Driftmark. She had even been granted the final word on a few local disputes. Her mother beamed with pride at the sight of (y/n) taking her new role seriously. (y/n) studied every book of laws in the keep’s library.

The longer the war went on the more (y/n) worried about her father and brother. Laenor had become quite the sailor and dragonrider but he was still just a boy. Lord Coryls was fierce and a brilliant strategist but (y/n) could only imagine the worst.

She tried to put on a brave face for her mother. She worried just as much, if not more, than Lady (y/n) did.

So when a messenger arrived in Driftmark with the declaration that Lady (y/n) had to be taken to King’s Landing to be ward of the King, Princess Rhaenys cried a river of tears.

Upon hearing the message (y/n) knew that Alicent was behind it. The King would never make such a declaration of his own accord. Making lady (y/n) a ward of the King would further divide their houses, not mend the rift between them that occurred when the King chose Alicent Hightower over Lady (y/n).

Still, (y/n) packed her belongings and said goodbye to her mother and sister. She made the journey to King’s Landing atop her dragon. Both she and her mother agreed she could not leave her dragon behind.

Lady (y/n)’s arrival in King’s Landing was a quiet one.

Princess Rhaenyra had met (y/n) at the dragonpit to say hello. Her cousin was eager to see her and was overjoyed that (y/n) would be staying with her. The Princess confided in (y/n) that she had been right about Alicent. She was not Rhaenyra’s true friend.

The Queen had bore a babe, a boy, for the King.

Ever since then Alicent had been nothing but cruel to Rhaenyra.

(y/n) empathized with her cousin, and promised they would be a united front against the Queen’s cruelty.

When the two returned to the Red Keep no one was there to greet (y/n). Rhaenyra led (y/n) to her chambers then excused herself as she had the duty of being her father’s cupbearer and was already late.

Once alone (y/n) let out a deep sigh. The chambers that had once felt like a second home now felt like a gilded cage. 

(y/n) wondered why the Queen would call her to King’s Landing, after so many years apart. Her last memory of her was the ghost of her thumb on (y/n)’s cheek. Her stomach knotted, with excitement and nerves at seeing her again.

-

The Queen stormed into lady (y/n)’s chambers. 

 Lady (y/n) stood from the desk where she had sat, writing her family a letter on her arrival. “Your Grace.”

The Queen froze as she laid eyes on Lady (y/n) for the first time since their almost kiss outside the great hall. 

Lady (y/n) was even more beautiful than she remembered. 

Alicent hated her even more for it. She folded her arms across her chest as she looked around the room. 

“Lady (y/n), a shame to see you have not settled in just yet.” 

(y/n)’s head turned to the stack of unpacked trunks in the corner of her room. She had told the maids to only unpack one of them.

“I won’t be here long. There is no need to unpack everything, your Grace,” (y/n) replied with a strained smile.

The Queen pursed her lips as she tilted her head, examining lady (y/n).

“Your optimism is refreshing, Lady (y/n).”

(y/n) stood tall. She was no longer a young girl, she was a lady grown. 

“It is not optimism your Grace, but the assurance that once I have spoken with the King he will see there is no need for me to remain in King’s Landing.”

The Queen let out a huff. She walked to the table towards the far side of the room and took a seat facing (y/n).

“If that is the case then I must admit it is startling to see you have not grown any less foolish in your time away, Lady (y/n)”

(y/n) turned to look at the Queen.  “It is the truth, your Grace.”

The Queen looked over at the fruit on the table. She grabbed a few grapes and slowly brought them to her mouth. 

“Your father started a war without the King’s permission.” the Queen said in between bites of fruit. “We cannot allow for the realm to think such actions are allowed,” she finished with a small smirk. 

“Then why not impose taxes upon our lands? Why keep me as a ward while the war still rages.” (y/n) furrowed her brows. 

She did not believe Alicent’s motives were purely political. It simply didn’t make sense.

The Queen stood from her seat and walked towards lady (y/n). “That does not send a strong enough message to the other houses.”

(y/n) instinctively stepped back as the Queen continued to approach her. 

The Queen closed the gap between them and reached up to cup (y/n)’s cheek.

“Such behavior must be punished,” the Queen whispered.

(y/n)’s face flushed with pink. She looked away from the Queen’s heavy gaze but did not move away from the Queen’s grasp.

The Queen smiled. “The gossips of court spoke about how beautiful you had become in recent moons... .perhaps I brought you here to see if there was truth in their words.”

Lady (y/n)’s heart beat rang in her ears. She stepped away from Alicent and turned away from her.

The Queen watched in delight.

“I-,” (y/n) stuttered as she struggled to compose herself.

The Queen took a deep breath, schooling her features into polite indifference. 

“Or perhaps I brought you here to reveal that the realm’s beauty is nothing but a sick deviant.”

Lady (y/n) whipped around to face the Queen. “I am not a deviant.”

The Queen smirked. “Come, we must not keep the King waiting for dinner,” she said as she made her way towards the door.

Lady (y/n) clenched her jaw and followed the Queen out of her chambers.

-

The first few moons at the Red Keep were dreadful for lady (y/n). 

With no choice but to obey the Queen’s endless requests for (y/n) to wait on her every whim. 

Lady (y/n) had not yet been able to get a moment alone with the King. At the dinner welcoming her to the Keep the King made little comment to (y/n) being a ward of his or the reason why. (y/n) had not seen the king since. 

But everything would soon change for lady (y/n) and the Queen.

-

It was a night like any other.

Lady (y/n) had been called into the Queen’s chambers to prepare the Queen for sleep. 

She had helped Talia ready the Queen for bed before but this time (y/n) noticed she was alone. 

The Queen stood in front of the mirror, she stared at (y/n). 

“Well, what are you waiting for,” Alicent asked. 

Lady (y/n) stepped forward and unlaced the Queen’s dress. 

(y/n) made sure to focus only on the bodice in front of her. She could not let her mind wander, lest it go to carnal places.

Alicent watched (y/n) through the mirror. She could feel (y/n)’s fingertips leave goose pimples in their wake as (y/n) unlaced the bodice. It took all her strength not to close her eyes and savor the younger woman’s touch. 

Once the bodice was undone lady (y/n) walked around to face the Queen. Lady (y/n) avoided the Queen’s gaze as she tugged at the dress. 

Alicent’s voice caught in her throat as Lady (y/n) lowered herself to help her out of the dress. 

“You can step out of the dress now, your grace,” (y/n) said as she looked up at the Queen. 

Alicent looked down at Lady (y/n) and felt her heart thump faster in her chest. 

The realm’s beauty on her knees for me, Alicent thought. She bit her cheek. She knew better than to think like that. 

Alicent looked away from Lady (y/n) and stepped out of the dress that pooled at her feet. 

Lady (y/n) took the dress and placed it in a nearby trunk. She grabbed the Queen’s nightgown and returned to Alicent’s side. 

Alicent stepped into the nightshirt and avoided (y/n)’s gaze as the Velaryon girl fastened the buttons at the front of the shirt. 

Lady (y/n) fastened the buttons of the Queen’s nightshirt as fast as she could. She felt an overwhelming heat spread throughout her with every second she passed so close to the Queen. 

The final buttons were along the Queen’s throat. 

Lady (y/n)’s eyes briefly met the Queen’s. 

Her hands stopped. 

Alicent noticed. She swallowed hard. 

“Why did you stop,” she whispered. 

Lady (y/n) stared into the Queen’s eyes. 

Alicent hadn’t always been cruel to her, (y/n) recalled. They were friends for a time. They were closer to each other than either was to Rhaenyra. 

“You stopped first,” (y/n) replied mindlessly.

Alicent’s brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You stopped being my friend first…your grace,” (y/n) said then looked away from the Queen. 

She quickly finished the last of the buttons on the nightgown then stepped away. 

Alicent turned and watched (y/n) walk across the room. 

“Why bring that up now?”

(y/n) made it to the window on the far side of the Queen’s chambers. The fresh air hit her face, a welcome respite to the blazing heat that bloomed inside her. 

The Queen stepped towards Lady (y/n). “I asked you a question lady (y/n).”

(y/n) sighed. “It was a thoughtless statement, your grace.”

Alicent frowned, she wanted to press (y/n) for the truth but she knew it would be fruitless. 

“Do not let it happen again lady (y/n),” the Queen replied. 

Lady (y/n) took a deep breath of night air then turned around. 

“If that is all your grace, I will take my leave.” Lady (y/n) curtsied and turned to leave. 

Alicent put a hand up to stop (y/n). “I have a final request for tonight lady (y/n).”

Lady (y/n) faced the Queen. “How can I be of service to your grace.”

(Alicent lays down in her bed and brings a cup of wine to her lips, watching the reader over the rim)

“I want you to read to me,” the Queen declared as she poured herself a cup of wine from the nearby table. 

“Read to you,” Lady (y/n) mused.

The Queen nodded. “Yes, now help me into my bed.”

Lady (y/n) approached the Queen’s bed and pulled back the furs and quilts so that the Queen could lay down. 

Once she was comfortable, the Queen looked up at (y/n) expectantly. 

lf a cup of wine from the nearby table then got into bed. 

“You may begin.”

Lady (y/n) furrowed her brow. “I don’t have a book, your grace.”

The Queen shrugged. “Then you can tell me a tale.”

Lady (y/n) swallowed the urge to roll her eyes. All she wanted was to retire to her own bed.

But alas, that was not an option. 

So lady (y/n) plastered on a saccharine smile and said, “As you wish your grace” as she walked to the chair by the mantle. 

“Not there,” the Queen barked. 

“Where do you wish for me to sit, your grace?” Lady (y/n) asked with a strained smile.

The Queen pointed a finger to the foot of her bed. “There.”

Lady (y/n)’s stomach dropped. But she did as she was ordered to. She walked to the foot of the Queen’s bed and sat down, her back to the Queen.

“Face me,” Alicent commanded. “I want you on your knees.”

Lady (y/n) turned to meet Alicent’s gaze. “On my knees?”

Alicent took a long drink from her goblet. “Was I not clear lady (y/n)?”

“As you wish, your grace,” (y/n) replied through gritted teeth.

(y/n) grabbed her skirts and lifted them as she knelt down on the bed. She could now hear the thrumming of her heart as it pounded in her ears. 

“What tale will you tell me tonight lady (y/n)?” The Queen asked, a devious smile on her lips. 

So pretty on her knees, Alicent thought. 

“Whatever tale you wish to hear your grace,” (y/n) replied lifelessly. 

“Tell me of your travels lady (y/n). I was told you traveled to Dorne with your father.”

“I did indeed, your grace.” (y/n) began. “Well the trip itself was quite long but we sailed and I enjoy the salt air.”

(y/n) felt herself relax as she recalled that summer she traveled with her father. She was quite young but had insisted on going. 

“Sunspear was beautiful, with water gardens and trees filled with various sweet fruits.The markets outside of the keep were lively and there was an aroma of spices that filled the air.”

(y/n) closed her eyes and almost felt the heat of the Dornish sun. 

Alicent watched with a small smile as (y/n) relaxed. The smile faded as she remembered that was the summer after she and (y/n) stopped being friends. 

“When my father took me to the market I found this emerald ring with a dove carved into the gold band.” (y/n) opened her eyes and met the Queen’s gaze. “It reminded me of you.”

Alicent’s voice caught in her throat again. 

“That was the summer after our big fight. Do you remember?” Lady (y/n) asked. Though she doubted the Queen remembered. 

Alicent looked away from (y/n). 

“You’re excused lady (y/n),” the Queen commanded. 

Lady (y/n) looked down at her hands as she got off the Queen’s bed. She turned and made her way towards the door. 

“I didn’t have a choice (y/n). I couldn’t be your friend anymore,” Alicent said as (y/n)’s hand reached for the door.

Lady (y/n) turned her head back towards the Queen but Alicent had already pulled the quilts and furs over her.

(y/n) opened the door and left for her quarters. 

-

A few weeks later Lady (y/n) entered the Queen’s chambers and walked to the bed. She knelt on the foot of the bed just as she had countless nights before. 

She had brought with her a book on the maester’s moon charts with her. She wanted to tell the Queen about how sailors used the moon charts when out on the ocean.

“What have you brought to read to me tonight lady (y/n),” the Queen asked as she emerged from the partition next to the bed. 

Lady (y/n) looked up from the charts and swallowed hard when she saw the Queen in her nightgown. It was cut quite provocatively at the chest and it was so thin (y/n) could see the outline of Alicent’s curves. 

Alicent smirked when she realized lady (y/n) was staring.  “Already kneeling at the foot of my bed, ready for me. Such a good girl.”

Lady (y/n)’s face went pink and she quickly looked down at the moon charts. 

The Queen got into her bed and settled in. “You may begin, Lady (y/n).”

(y/n) began to tell the Queen about moon charts but she was cut off my a loud knock at the Queen’s door. 

The Queen rolled her eyes. “Who calls?”

“It’s Talya, your grace,” Ser Criston’s voice boomed. 

“Let her in,” the Queen replied. 

Talya entered the Queen’s chambers and bowed. 

“The King has requested your company for the night, your grace.”

The Queen sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Alright, tell the King I am on my way.”

Talya nodded and bowed once more before leaving. 

The Queen kept her eyes closed for another moment before she got out of her bed and reached for a robe to wrap herself in.

Lady (y/n) gathered her charts and got off the bed. 

“What are you doing?” The Queen asked.

“Talya said-,” Lady (y/n) began.

The Queen cut her off. “I did not grant you leave.”

“But the King-,” Lady (y/n) argued.

The Queen cut her off once more. “Called for me, not you. You will stay put, on your knees, until I return.” Alicent bridged the gap between her and lady (y/n). “Is that understood?” She asked, their faces inches apart.

Lady (y/n) nodded. “Yes, your grace.”

A heat bloomed between (y/n)’s legs at the sound of Alicent’s commanding voice. She got back on the bed and knelt facing the bed. 

The Queen stepped closer towards lady (y/n). 

“Good girl,” she whispered in (y/n)’s ear. 

A chill ran down (y/n)’s back. She bit the inside of her cheek and closed her eyes. 

The Queen started for the door and slowly her footsteps started to fade. 

Once the Queen was gone lady (y/n) debated getting off the bed and going back to her chambers. 

She knew that Alicent would make her pay for not obeying her orders…a part of lady (y/n) wondered what that punishment would be, and a smaller part of her felt a rush of excitement at the thought of being punished by Alicent. 

Like the good girl she was, (y/n) stayed. She continued to knee at the foot of the bed. She poured over the moon charts as she waited for Alicent to return. 

Sometime after the hour of ghosts (y/n) ended up falling asleep. 

Alicent returned during the hour of the wolf, weary and spent from her time with the King.

She entered her chambers and smiled when she saw (y/n) asleep on her bed. Alicent walked over to where (y/n) lay. She reached out and slowly ran her finger across (y/n)’s cheek.

Lady (y/n) startled and quickly sat up when she realized the Queen had returned. 

“Your Grace, my apologies. I must have fallen asleep. I am so sorry your grace I-,” lady (y/n) rambled.

Alicent’s languid smile remained. She placed her finger on (y/n)’s lips. 

“Your Queen grants you leave,” she whispered. 

Then Alicent dropped her finger from (y/n)’s lips and made her way to her side of the bed. She pulled back the furs and quilts and got in. 

Too stunned to react, the lady (y/n) took a few moments to collect herself. Then she got off the Queen’s bed and made her way to the chamber door. 

Once at the door (y/n) turned back towards the Queen. 

The Queen laid in her bed, facing the window at the far end of the room and picking her nails absentmindedly. 

“I hope you sleep well, Alicent,” (y/n) said. 

Alicent snapped out of her thoughts and turned towards (y/n). She smiled softly. 

“Thank you (y/n). Sweet dreams.”

(y/n) returned Alicent’s smile then turned and left the room.

-

More moons passed.

 Lady (y/n)’s nightly visit to the Queen was now a welcome event as things had softened between them.

(y/n) entered the Queen’s chambers as she did every night. 

This night Talya was helping the Queen into her nightgown and (y/n) had walked in while the Queen was in her thin shift. 

Lady (y/n) quickly averted her gaze. “Apologies your grace. I did not see Ser Criston outside but I should have knocked.” 

Talya placed the nightgown on the Queen. The Queen smiled at lady (y/n). 

“It’s alright (y/n). We won’t be able to have our nightly reading.” Alicent stepped towards (y/n) and sighed. “The King wishes for me to stay in his chambers tonight.”

(y/n) shrugged. “I can stay if you wish. That way I can read to you when you return.”

Alicent’s smile returned. “That’s kind of you lady (y/n).” Then she let out another sigh as Talya left the room. “I won’t return until the morrow.”

“Oh,” (y/n) replied, a small frown tugged at the edge of her mouth.

“You look as though this upsets you lady (y/n),” Alicent replied with a small smirk. “I imagined you would be giddy at the news.”

(y/n)’s face warmed. She had been caught frowning. She looked away from the Queen.

Alicent stepped closer to (y/n). “Could it be that you don’t hate my presence as much as you used to?” She whispered.

“I appreciate routine, your grace,” (y/n) replied, a small smirk of her own on her face.

Alicent laughed and placed a hand on (y/n)’s arm.

“I needed something to lighten my mood. Thank you (y/n),” Alicent said and gave (y/n)’s arm a gentle squeeze.

Blush returned to (y/n)’s cheeks at the Queen’s touch. She was glad Alicent was already headed towards the door and wouldn’t notice.

The Queen walked out of her room and left (y/n) alone. (y/n) knew she could not linger so she turned to follow the Queen out the door but she stopped when she noticed the open bottle of perfume oil on the table next to the door. 

(y/n) reached for the handkerchief in her dress pocket and before she could think twice about it she dabbed a bit of oil on her cloth. She inhaled the sweet perfume of lavender and honeysuckle.

(y/n) smiled to herself and hid the handkerchief back in her pocket. Then she left the Queen’s bedchamber.

-

It was a night like any other. 

Lady (y/n) knelt in front of the Queen, reading a passage out of a book of history from Essos. 

But on this night the Queen had drunk a bit more wine than usual. And her gaze lingered on (y/n)’s lips longer than it usually did.

“Put the book down,” Alicent commanded. 

Lady (y/n) did as the Queen told her to. 

“Is there something-”

(y/n)’s words died in her throat. 

The Queen got out of her bed and crossed the room to pour herself more wine. She downed it in one gulp then turned to (y/n).

“Lay down.”

Lady (y/n) furrowed her brow. “Why?”

“You don’t need to know why. I am your Queen and I commanded you to lay down on my bed,” Alicent replied sternly. 

(y/n) was not sure where Alicent’s anger had come from. Alicent had been far more cordial to (y/n) in recent days. She wondered why the sudden change in demeanor. 

But Alicent would not give her time to wonder. 

“Now,” Alicent barked. 

(y/n) did as she was commanded to and laid down. Her heart started beating faster. 

She could not see Alicent but (y/n) could hear Alicent cross the room. 

Alicent sat in a chair opposite her bed. She had brought the pitched of wine with her and she poured herself another cup. 

“I want you to take your nightgown off.”

Lady (y/n) sat up. “Absolutely not,” she objected.

Alicent stood. “Are you defying an order from the Queen?”

(y/n) stared at Alicent, mouth agape. “No I simply don’t understand w-”

“It does not matter if you understand or not. I am the Queen,” Alicent replied. 

(y/n) swallowed hard. Her heart beat loud in her ears. She could not do what had been asked of her. 

“Fine, I’ll do it for you,” Alicent spat. 

The Queen approached lady (y/n) and reached for (y/n)’s nightgown. Lady (y/n) grabbed the Queen’s hands. 

Alicent met (y/n)’s gaze. 

“How dare you,” Alicent roared. 

“Just tell me why,” (y/n) replied. 

Alicent stared into (y/n)’s eyes. (y/n)’s eyes begged for any reason. 

(y/n) noticed how tired Alicent’s eyes looked. Then she recalled that the King had called for her many times the past couple nights.

Alicent swallowed hard. “I need it.”

(y/n) nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Alicent stepped back and watched as (y/n) stood and undressed herself. 

The nightgown pooled at (y/n)’s feet. She bent down and picked it up. (y/n) laid it down on the bed then laid back down.

“Now what,” (y/n) asked. 

The night air drove a chill down (y/n)’s body.

Alicent sat back down in the chair facing the bed. 

“Spread your legs.”

(y/n) did as she was told. She spread her legs open.

This is wrong, (y/n) thought to herself. We can’t do this. 

But desire started to pool below (y/n)’s stomach. So (y/n) quieted the voice inside her that told her to grab her nightgown and run out of the Queen’s room.

Alicent took a long drink from her goblet. 

“Have you done this before,” Alicent asked. 

(y/n) let out a laugh. “Have I ever been naked on the Queen’s bed before?”

Alicent bit her cheek to stop herself from laughing. “Have you ever touched yourself,” she reiterated. 

The smile left (y/n)’s face. She felt her face get hot. “I uhm- I,” she stammered. 

Alicent let out a chuckle. “I’ll take that as a no.”

(y/n) took a steadying breath. “I actually have,” she confessed. 

Alicent raised her brows. “Oh.”

“Do you want me to..uhm,” (y/n) started but couldn’t quite find the strength to say the words. 

Thankfully Alicent could.

“Yes, touch yourself,” Alicent commanded. 

(y/n) closed her eyes and let out a breath. She let her hands travel down her body, slowly working their way down between her legs. 

Alicent watch, rapt. She gripped the goblet of wine so hard her knuckles turned white. 

Soon (y/n)’s fingers slipped inside her. She started off slow, just like she used to back home in the comfort of her chamber. 

After a few strokes the pace of (y/n)’s fingers quickened. (y/n)’s chest heaved as her pleasure started to build.

Alicent bit her lip as (y/n) pleasured herself. The heat between her own thighs had built to an uncomfortable throbbing. 

“Say my name,” Alicent said, voice thick with want.

(y/n)’s pace quickened again, her chest heaved harder, her breaths quickened. 

“Alicent,” (y/n) breathed as she entered herself again and again. 

“Harder,” Alicent commanded. 

(y/n) slipped another finger inside herself and pushed her fingers deeper inside her. 

“Alicent,” (y/n) moaned. 

Alicent watched as the wave of (y/n)’s pleasure reached its crest. She watched as (y/n) came undone. 

“Alicent,” (y/n) moaned as she reached the peak of her pleasure. 

Alicent stood from her seat and swallowed hard as (y/n) came down from the pleasure flowing through her. 

There (y/n) lay, open and warm with a placid smile on her face. 

(y/n) looked over at Alicent. “What now Ali.”

At the sound of her childhood nickname a swell of guilt and shame washed over Alicent. She turned around and downed the last of her wine. 

“Get out,” she said. 

(y/n) sat up, confused. “But I..why?”

The Queen turned back around to face lady (y/n). 

“Leave, before I choose against mercy and drag you out of my room to expose what a filthy whore the realm’s beauty really is,” Alicent spat. 

Tears welled in (y/n)’s eyes but she would not let them fall in the Queen’s presence.

Of course it had been a trick. Everything with Alicent always revealed itself to be a trick.

(y/n) had been foolish enough to fall for one yet again. 

Lady (y/n) grabbed her nightgown and dressed herself as she made her way to the door. She left the room without another glance at the Queen. 

(y/n) wished to never see the Queen ever again.

-

Lord Corlys’ war ended with a victory for the crown but lady (y/n) remained a ward of the Queen.

(y/n) no longer read to the Queen. In fact the Queen had unknowingly granted (y/n)’s wish to never see her again. 

But in a bitter twist life not in the Queen’s gaze was cold and unforgiving. 

Lady (y/n) was practically confined to her room. She could leave to visit the Keep’s library or to see the other ladies of court for a few hours a day but the guards had been ordered to follow (y/n)’s every move and make her dine in her room alone every day. 

(y/n) was miserable, and she was sure it was exactly what Alicent had wanted. 

Lady (y/n) finally did get an audience with the King but all he did was confirm that the only way she would leave the Keep is if Alicent let her go, or if she married. 

Thankfully a celebration was upon the Keep. The King had betrothed Rhaenyra to (y/n)’s brother, Laenor. 

A tourney would be held for their nuptials. 

The King told (y/n) she would be allowed to attend the tourney if she wished to. (y/n) jumped at the chance to be among her family once again.

-

The day of the tourney came and (y/n) raced to her mother’s arms.

Her mother asked if all was well with the King and Queen. 

(y/n) lied and said all was going well. She did not wish to worry her mother with the truth. 

Laena and Laenor rushed to give (y/n) hugs of their own. 

Love and hope swelled inside (y/n). 

-

(y/n) sat between her sister and her brother at the tourney. 

It was Prince Daemon’s turn to joust a member of House Baratheon. 

He asked for Lady (y/n)’s favor. 

“Your favor would all but ensure my win, lady (y/n). You’ve grown more beautiful with age,” Prince Daemon said as he held his lance up for (y/n)’s favor. 

Lady (y/n) smiled politely and stood to grab her favor from the nearby table. 

As she grabbed the wreath of flowers with her house colors she noticed the look on the Queen’s face. 

Alicent was not pleased. 

(y/n) figured it was due to Prince Daemon’s presence. 

If there was someone Alicent hated more than (y/n) it was Prince Daemon. 

Lady (y/n) placed her favor on Prince Daemon’s lance. “I wish you luck, your grace.”

Prince Daemon winked at her as he galloped away. 

Lady (y/n) turned to her family. Her father wore a pleasure smirk on his face. 

Gods, (y/n) thought, he wishes to wed two of his children off. 

Lady (y/n) excused herself and exited the stands. 

She made it past a nearby tent before she felt a pair of hands pull her inside it.

It was the Queen. She was furious.

Lady (y/n) furrowed her brow.“Your grace, what is the matter.”

The Queen tightened her grip on lady (y/n)’s arms. 

“How dare you,” Alicent spat.

Lady (y/n) tried to free herself from the Queen but her grasp was firm.

“I don’t understand, your grace.”

The Queen scoffed. “You practically threw yourself at Prince Daemon like a commonborn whore.”

“I merely gave him my favor, as he asked of me.” Lady (y/n) bristled against the Queen’s grasp once more. 

But the Queen would not let go. 

She forced lady (y/n) to look at her. 

“Do you care for him? Do you wish to wed him,” the Queen asked, a slight tremble in her voice. 

Lady (y/n) looked into Alicent’s eyes. Alicent was angry, that much was clear, but (y/n) also saw a bit of fear in the Queen’s eyes. 

“I do not wish to wed anyone.” (y/n) sighed. “You know that, your grace,” (y/n) whispered.

The Queen let go of lady (y/n). She smoothed down the skirts of her dress and looked away from lady (y/n).

“I do not want to see you near Prince Daemon for the rest of the festivities,” the Queen commanded.

Lady (y/n) frowned. “That is not something I can promise your grace. He is the Prince,” (y/n) replied, defeated.

The Queen began to speak but lady (y/n) cut her off. 

“Why do you even care? It’s not as though it is of consequence to you if the Prince seeks my company,” (y/n) countered.

Alicent avoided (y/n)’s gaze. 

“I don’t have to answer to you, I am the queen.”

Lady (y/n) let out a small scoff. “You do as you please as you always have.”

The Queen met (y/n)’s gaze with narrowed eyes. “I did not grant you permission to speak so freely to me lady (y/n).”

Lady (y/n) crossed her arms against her chest. “Perhaps I’ve grown tired of this game you play with me, your grace. I am not a doll you can cast aside when you’re done toying with her.”

The Queen took a menacing step towards lady (y/n).

“You are done being mine when I command it,” the Queen declared.

Lady (y/n) would not back down this time. She remained firm.

“I will never be yours.”

The Queen pursed her lips. She stared at (y/n) for a few moments, searching for something though (y/n) was not sure what.

“You are a fool (y/n).”

And with that the Queen turned and walked out of the tent. 

Tears welled in lady (y/n)’s eyes. She blinked them away. She would not shed another tear for Alicent Hightower.

-

Lady (y/n) managed to stay away from Prince Daemon for the rest of the tourney. 

Not because the Queen told her to but because she had a real worry that the Prince meant to make her his wife.

The only thing worse than being ward of Alicent would be marrying the Prince.

But at the wedding feast she could not avoid the Prince. 

He sat to the right of her father and she had no choice but to be near him.

As the musicians started a lively tune Prince Daemon turned to lady (y/n) and asked for a dance. 

Lady (y/n) could not say no. 

She followed the Prince onto the dance floor.

Lady (y/n) didn’t need to look at the Queen to know the Queen was not pleased. 

Alicent stared at (y/n) and the Prince.

She downed another goblet of wine.

-

The song ended and lady (y/n) tried to leave but Prince Daemon pulled her close to him.

“How about another one?” 

Lady (y/n) smiled politely. “Of course, my Prince.”

She turned towards the table at the top of the stairs and sure enough, Alicent was staring daggers at her. 

Lady (y/n) turned away from the Queen and continued another dance with the Prince.

After a second dance the Prince and lady (y/n) returned to the great table. 

Lord Corlys joked they made a lovely couple. 

Prince Daemon remarked any man that could have lady (y/n)’s hand in marriage would be lucky indeed. 

“What do you say, your grace, shall we make this wedding celebration two fold?” Lord Corlys asked and raised a cup towards the King.

The King laughed and raised his cup to Lord Corlys. “A drink for the newly wed and another for the newly betrothed.”

The men laughed and drank while lady (y/n)’s polite smile faltered. 

Lady (y/n) looked to her mother for reassurance. Surely the men were not serious.

Her mother avoided her gaze. 

A lump formed in lady (y/n)’s throat. 

The Queen stood from her seat and declared she would retire for the night. 

She called for lady (y/n)’s assistance. 

Lady (y/n) sprang from her seat. “Of course your grace.”

Lady (y/n) followed the Queen out of the great hall. 

They did not speak until they were safely inside the Queen’s bedchamber. 

Lady (y/n) entered the room and immediately felt the Queen’s hands on her. 

Alicent pinned (y/n) to the wall.

“You will reject the Prince’s proposal.”

(y/n) struggled against Alicent’s grasp. “Why should I? I would wed and leave this wretched Keep.”

Alicent grabbed (y/n)’s chin with her free hand and forced (y/n) to meet her gaze.

“I will not allow such a betrothal.”

(y/n) scoffed. “It does not matter. The king approves.”

Alicent huffed. “I care not what the King approves.” She brought her face closer to (y/n)’s. “You will not leave my keep.”

(y/n) could feel Alicent’s breath on her lips. A heat bloomed inside her. Her eyes darted to Alicent’s lips then back up to her eyes.

“Why do you insist on keeping me prisoner?”

Alicent could feel (y/n)’s heart beat faster. She let go of (y/n) and walked away. “I do not need to explain myself to you.”

“Because you are the Queen,” (y/n) argued.

Alicent did not reply. She walked across the room to the pitcher of wine. She poured herself a cup.

“How long will you keep me here? Until I am old and gray?” 

(y/n) stepped closer to Alicent, demanding an answer.

“You said you never wanted to marry. I am merely fulfilling your girlhood wish,” Alicent replied as she downed the wine.

“What a gracious queen you are,” (y/n) said with a hollow laugh.

Alicent finished the last of her wine. “Lady (y/n) is beautiful, lady (y/n) is gracious, lady (y/n) is talented beyond measure.” Alicent mocked as she turned to face (y/n).  “All my girlhood I heard court sing you praises. I hated you so much.”

Alicent scoffed then started towards (y/n). “And then one summer you came to visit Rhaenyra, and I was determined to hate you…but you were so disgustingly kind.” 

She stopped when she reached (y/n). (y/n) eyed Alicent cautiously. 

Alicent tilted her head to the side and reached out to touch a lock of (y/n)’s hair.  “And you were so damn beautiful, just like they had all said.”

(y/n) turned away from Alicent’s touch. “So you hate me because I was kind to you?”

Alicent let out another hollow laugh. “You will never understand.”

(y/n) met Alicent’s gaze. “I understand that we were friends. I understand that you were kind until you became like your father, hungry for power.”

Silence lingered between them as Alicent gazed into (y/n)’s eyes. 

“I wanted you,” Alicent whispered. “I wanted you,” she repeated, a little louder.

(y/n) blinked hard. “I don’t-,” she started but Alicent interrupted her.

“My father wanted power, and he knew I wanted you,” Alicent confessed.  “He told me if I had power I could have you.”

(y/n) swallowed hard. Alicent’s voice rang in her ears, I wanted you.

At the sigh of (y/n)’s continued silence the side of Alicent’s mouth turned upwards in a sad kind of smile. “I got power, but I never got you.”

“You did that night,” (y/n) replied mindlessly.

They had never spoken of that night in Alicent’s bed.

Silence enveloped the pair, both rendered speechless by the weight of their confessions.

Alicent looked down and reached for (y/n)’s hand. 

(y/n) let her take her hand.

Alicent laced their fingers together. 

“Don’t accept Prince Daemon’s proposal.”

(y/n) sighed loudly.  “ If it’s what my father wills, I have no choice.”

Alicent looked back up and met (y/n)’s gaze, a playful smirk on her face.

“I could betroth you to Aegon.”

A small smile spread across (y/n)’s lips. “Would that please the King?”

Alicent shrugged, her thumb caressing (y/n)’s palm. 

“It would please me.”

(y/n) let out a small laugh. Alicent returned it and together they enjoyed their brief armistice. 

-

Talya walked into the Queen’s bedchambers with another pitcher full of wine. She poured the queen another cup full. 

The Queen was in a foul mood, even for her. 

Talya excused herself and took the old empty pitcher with her. 

That morning when she broke fast with the King he informed her that Daemon’s betrothal to the lady (y/n) was all but final. 

Alicent remained in her chambers the rest of the day, drinking goblet after goblet of wine. 

Her father had tried to chastise her for acting like a petulant spoiled child but Alicent didn’t care anymore. 

It was over.

(y/n) would marry the Prince, have his children, and be his. Forever.

Alicent pulled the furs above her and buried her head in the many pillows on her bed. 

The door opened. 

“I do not wish to see anyone,” she barked. 

“Lady (y/n) is here your grace,” Ser Criston called. 

Alicent sat up, and sure enough (y/n) stood at the entrance of the room, book in hand. 

“Leave us Ser Criston,” the Queen ordered. 

Ser Criston bowed his head and left the two women alone. 

“What are you doing here,” Alicent asked. 

(y/n) smiled softly.  “I’ve come to read to you, your grace.”

Alicent scoffed then grabbed the goblet from the nightstand and downed the rest of her wine. 

“Don't you have a betrothed to read to now?” She asked bitterly.

(y/n) walked to the foot of Alicent’s bed then climbed on and knelt in front of the Queen as she had done so many nights before. 

Alicent watched her, her brows furrowed. 

(y/n) set down the book in front of her then looked back up at Alicent. 

“I spoke with my father. I informed him I wish to become a septa.”

“You wish to be a septa?” Alicent asked slowly.

(y/n) nodded. “The keep is always in need of septas is it not?”

Alicent’s brow slowly unfurrowed as she understood (y/n)’s true meaning.

“You’re staying?” She asked, tears welling in her eyes.

(y/n) had never seen Alicent cry. She gazed into Alicent’s eyes.

“Does the Queen command me to stay?” (y/n) asked.

“Only if you wish to,” Alicent replied with a tremor in her voice.

(y/n) crawled across the bed and wiped the tears from Alicent’s eyes. 

“I wish to,” she whispered. 

Alicent returned (y/n)’s smile. 

(y/n) turned to the book she brought. “I also brought the moon charts. I did not get to tell you about them the last time I read to you.”

When (y/n) turned back to face Alicent their faces were inches apart. 

Alicent took a steadying breath. 

(y/n) looked at her expectantly. 

Alicent reached up and cupped (y/n)’s face. “Don’t move,” Alicent commanded. 

(y/n) waited with bated breath as Alicent slowly closed the gap between them. 

Lady (y/n)’s eyes fluttered closed as she felt the Queen’s lip against her own. 

The moon charts next to the couple would go unexplored for the rest of the night as the Queen finally claimed what was hers and lady (y/n) realized she did believe in love after all.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Lactation kink aegon? You can add this into any other plot but I just need more of this 😚

aegon x lactation kink has me crying, (s)creaming, throwing up!!!!

Wet Dreams

PAIRING: King!Aegon ii Targaryen x WetNurse!fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,661.

WARNINGS: wet nurse references, breastfeeding, mentions of an affair, lactation kink, Daddy kink, degradation kink, female receiving (fingering), breast play, swearing.

A/N - I kind of went feral, this was meant to be a very small blurb... whoops!

Since the royal twin heirs, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, had been born lively to King Aegon, the Second of his Name and his sister-wife, Queen Helaena, the realm had rejoiced in joy and excitement. Gratefully appointed by the Dowager Queen herself, to be a fellow wet nurse for the twins, following the ancestral footsteps of your mother, who nursed Laena and Laenor Velaryon, and your grandmother before who nursed the many royal offspring of the Old King and his Good Queen wife, before being relieved of their duties.

You were quite younger than your predecessors when being anointed as a fellow wet nurse, however, Queen Alicent saw it fit that the younger the woman in the peak of her youthful maidenhood, would in return have the better production of the milk. Trusting that it was naturally in your genes to produce. Not to mention, you would be relative for quite some time to the royal couple, starting off in your young adulthood.

Nonetheless, as the twins grew familiar around your tits, latching on more comfortably, their repetitive suckling motions began to show results. Your tits had swollen abundantly with milk in vast supply, often at times leaking, if they were not in use. You were relieved from the burden, as was the Dowager Queen and her beloved daughter, satisfied with your loyal services... And yet it seemed that you had caught the lurking eyes of the King himself.

From time to time, when Helaena had delivered or called upon for your presence to nurse her newborns, Aegon remained solemnly distant in the background, yet ever so present. Never uttering a word, nor showing an ounce of acknowledgement for the intimate yet crucial service you provided to his children, and yet, his violet eyes would loosely ponder over you. Whenever you meekly entered their chambers, your eyes would inevitably meet in mutual focus, before forcing to resume your undivided attention unto the newborn babes. At one point, he was so drawn to your readiness to provide for his children, mindlessly caught in his own, unfathomable thoughts, that it took his sister-wife to hastily tug on his arm, harshly pulling him away to be drawn back to reality.

Having grown accustomed to his children's feeding times, he knew that you would reliably arrive on time in the early morrow, to feed the babes, whilst their mother and the rest of the royal family would attend their own breakfast feasts.

And he remarkably knew this would be the perfect time to strike...

Just as you faintly swayed and nestled little Jaehaera back into her crib residing with her asleep elder, the sudden knock on the door startled you vividly. As you hastily turned towards the direction of the abrupt sound, so anxious that the children did not stir awake, as your focus reluctantly panned from them still deep in slumber, did you meet the familiar, unnerving gaze of Aegon.

"M-My King, th-the babes have just been fed and put to bed. Queen Helaena is not here, I-I can fetch her for you, i-if you wish-"

Aegon remained dead silent, only taking a few slow paces towards your rigid state in front of the cribs, only inches apart before having the decency to respond.

"I have no need for my sister. Nor do I intend to wake the babes... I am here for one other matter, that is," He lowly uttered, his voice deep yet clear and stern, those formidable violet eyes tainted over you, lingering from head to toe and back.

"Mayhaps, I-I can help you, your Grace," You anxiously stutter: yet a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach began to churn, the feeling gradually extending between your inner thighs, that began to intensely throb, each passing minute the King blessed you with his attention.

"In fact you can... Get on the bed."

His serious tone was cold, you obeyed the command as you obeyed all your previous doings, and yet, this was one that should not have been taken lightly. Glancing at the sleeping babes one last time before the frame of the crib hid their tiny bodies, some comfort was provided knowing they remained peacefully unstirred in a deep slumber. The voice of their father not stirring them awake, even though Aegon spoke an octave above a whisper.

Following you closely behind, you could almost sense him inhaling your natural scent, sensing the fear oozing from your every fibre.

"Lay down," He further instructed, as you continued without hesitation in abiding by your Grace's honour. How could you defy the King? The consequences would have been detrimental, even so, fatal, to your very unimpressive existence...

Making yourself somewhat comfortable, despite the tension in your body from the uneasiness of the situation, Aegon knelt above you, each thigh in level just below your waistline as his knees sturdily supported him, his large hands began to snake their way up towards your body. Heavily breathing, the tight fabric felt suffocating, as you felt the foreign touch of his hands gliding over your body frame, gently tracing over the curves of your waistline, up until it reached your ample bosom.

"Hmm-" As the grazing touch of his soft lips glazed over the skin of your cleavage, you swore you could feel the ripples of his deep growl vibrating over you.

"So these are the fruitful gifts the Gods have blessed you with, that feed my very babes. Fuck, how I have been envious of my own seed-" Aegon lustfully whispered, with each breath taken and word spoken, his eager mouth latched to your skin, suckling leaving a moist trail of his trace over you.

"How they cry for your tits day and night. How they suck on these, taking in your taste with every mouthful. Favouring each swallow... Now it's my turn."

The foreign feeling of Aegon's thick, probing cock pressing down against you, just directly above the clothed entrance of your cunt, sent an exhilarating thrill through the entirety of your body, stemming from between your thighs. You had never truly been with a man before, let alone, your first being with the King himself. Nonetheless, you naturally dismissed all self-control, moaning and whimpering for Aegon's touch and more, your eager sounds brewing, louder in volume.

"Shush, shush, my pretty whore. My babes are fast asleep, perhaps milk drunk from you. We must keep quiet, nonetheless."

Instinctively, despite your mind pathetically trying to fight against the urge, you felt yourself keen for more. Hips lifting forwards, burying his stiff, pulsating cock further down into you. Immediately noticing your advances, you felt Aegon's hand reaching beneath, hastily pulling your gown length up, as his rough fingers sneaked tugging beneath your undergarments, teasing your silky folds.

"It seems someone is needy for their King... Have you been desperate for me, my pretty whore? Want Daddy to spoil you too, huh?"

"Y-Yes-" Breathless and yet inclined, your mind a haze, you shut your eyes closer, as Aegon's fingers delve deeper between your velvet folds, his fingers moving in slow, sensual motions stretching you out.

"My pretty whore, gonna be such a good girl for Daddy, yes? Gonna take good care of me, just like you care for my babes, hmm."

"Y-Yes Daddy."

His low, growling chuckle reverberating from his throat, was soon interrupted, as those violet eyes once more fixated firmly on your bosom, tutting at the sheer sight before him.

"Look at you, so fucking full of that sweet, sweet milk, you are practically leaking through your clothes, angel. Have my babes not drunk their full? Not taking advantage as their father would. Mayhaps, your needy body is producing ample supply for my take now."

His hand that had been eagerly venturing between your innocent walls, sprung free, as he began to unloosen the strings of your gown at front, ripping apart the fabric to expose your sensitive, swollen tits.

The appetising sight, nipples red and raw from feeding his babes, oozing with a white, milky substance that drizzles across your stretched skin. His thumb grazing and flicking over it was enough to make you moan in an agonising excitement, back arching hopelessly sulking for more.

"Look at the fucking mess you have made, and in front of your King. Have you no shame, whore? Need Daddy to make you feel better, want me to ease the pain, hmm? All you need to do is ask with that pretty mouth of yours."

"Uhh- Y-Yes, Daddy. P-Please, I'm s-so fucking full."

A growling groan echoed through his throat, before his mouth keenly opened, latching over one tit, as his hand massaged the flesh of your breast. Alongside his suckling movements with the kneading motions, the milk poured lusciously into his mouth, harsher and hastier than the babes, his mouthful took more, as his breathing hastened, his broad chest heaving deeper.

"Mhmm, hmm-" Once more that same hand found its way impressively down to your wet cunt, shoving his thick digits deeply inside, as he began to pump his hand backwards and forwards, almost in rhythm with each sucking motion. His tongue swirled over your nipple, causing you to convulse and jerk beneath him from the tenderness.

"Fuck, you taste divine... My babes are truly spoiled and will grow healthily with your milk. Now I know why they cry for these ardently-"

"It-It is my duty, your Grace. B-But it is my honour, to f-feed my King w-whenever your Grace n-needs me."

"That's right, whore... At my beckon call now. Perhaps I may fuck some bastards into my pretty whore's cunt, keep her filled so these tits keep swelling with milk, leaking for Daddy to relieve."

The milk dribbling off his soft lips was enough to send you into an oblivion, as his tongue hungrily lapped the substance lingering over, before it could trickle down.

"Y-Yes, Daddy. W-Whatever you see fit."

"Good girl, my good whore... So obedient for Daddy, we are going to have fun, indeed..."

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag] - @evenstaris @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @hightowhxre @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @bucknastysbabe @jawline-of-steel

credit for divider - @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[anyca786]

"I THINK I'M GOING TO DIE"

Daemon Targaryen x sister/aunt!Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen

WARNINGS: canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister &niece) poly relationship, child birth, (smut: lactation kink, cock warming) fluff, family drama.

Series

"The pain will be over soon my love, the babe should be here soon," Rhaenyra said, trying to bring her some comfort. She herself had recently given birth to another son, named Viserys.

Daemon stood beside her, he had refused to leave her side.

Daenys huffed and looked at her husband loathingly, "I fucking hate you!"

"What?" Daemon asked, rather hurt than confused.

"Relax, Daemon" Rhaenyra said as she pushes back Daenys damp hair and kissed her forehead, "She's giving birth, stop pouting"

'No, NO!" Daenys shouted this time, her eyes holding fire, resembling a furious dragon. "I'm speaking clearly," she groans in pain," This is all your fault..you and your stupid big cock"

Daenys breathing grows heavy and shakes her head," I fucking hate this! How the hell did mother do this? And Aemma and my beloved Laena?" She said then turned to Rhaenyra," How did you do this?" She babled.

"Princess you must push." the Midwife coaxed but squeaked when Daenys screamed at her face, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"I think I'm going to die," Daenys whined.

Daemon never knew fear until now. He did not want to lose his wife and Rhaenyra shared the same sentiment.

Rhaenyra cupped her face tenderly, "Just a bit more pain for a lifetime of happiness...now fucking push! You're Daenys Targaryen, a dragon and a warrior, so be one!"

Daenys let out a huff of frustration and screamed, ignoring the pain and the voices all around her as she pushed once more and the sounds of a babe, crying, made her fall back in her husband's arms.

"Oh praised the mother!" The mid-wife said, "A boy you have, Princess!"

"A boy?" Daenys couldn't contain her smile, A mini Daemon she thought.

The boy was cleaned and wrapped in a blanket. Daenys held her son close in a possessive manner and fell in love with the baby in her arms. He was absolutely perfect and looked just like her, but with Daemon's lips.

'Aegor," Daenys announced, sporting a wide grin at Daemon who now held Aegor Targaryen in his arms.

Suddenly Daenys felt another cramp, and shouts in pain.

Rhaenyra stood up from her spot and looked at the Maester in worry. The midwife looked underneath Daenys dress and gasped making the two look at her.

"What is it, woman? Spit it out!" Rhaenyra shouted, fear overtaking her face, "Another babe, Princess." the timid midwife squeaked out in fear.

"Another?" Daenys looked horrified, "I can't do this," she cried.

"Yes, you can, my love," Daemon grabbed her hand tight, "Breathe"

Holding Daemon hand tightly and pushing once again. She had finally delivered another babe. Daemon and Rhaenyra held a mixture of pride and happiness.

"A girl!" The mid-wife announced.

Rhaenyra held the babe with happy tears streaming down her face, a little girl in their family. Daenys wore a tired yet beaming smile.

"What will you name her?" Rhaenyra asked her.

"Viseria Targaryen, my warrior princess," Daenys announced proudly.

"My little princess" Daemon whispered, cooing at the baby.

Moments later, Daenys laid on the bed fully exhausted. Once the sheets were replaced, the maidens helped her wear a clean dress. She then started breastfeeding her children.

Daemon and Rhaenyra sat next to her on the bed simply taking in the scene between the mother of their children. Daemon was proud of his wife's strength. She did it, she overcomed her fear.

Rhaenyra's eyes filled with nothing but admiration and love for her wife. She felt content and happy seeing that she had everything she ever wanted.

Daenys couldn't believe that she was a mother now. Two little healthy identical Targaryens.

Now, ever since Daenys gave birth to the Twins, her partners- especially Daemon was practically ravenous for her. The slight chubbiness on her stomach, the softness of her thighs, and her round hips... the swollen breast, oozing with milk.

Daenys sighed angrily as milk leaked through her dress.

"What is it, love?" Daemon asked, already knowing the problem.

"Your children seem to be on a hunger strike," Daenys complained, "My dress is ruined," she pouts, stripping her dress off.

"Fuck," Daemon mumbled, seeing her naked form. The two times larger swollen, leaking breasts making him hard, "Let me see it, love" he said.

"See what, Daemon? " Daenys cocked her head at him while he bit his lip, his eyes trained on her perfectly swollen breast.

Daenys already knew what he was thinking.

"Just let me..." He lifted her in his arms. Daenys wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried he over to the bed where he sat up, while she straddled on him, his hands over her tender breasts. "Does it hurt?"

Daenys nodded in response.

"Let me take care of you, then," Daemon whispered, as he pulled her body closer, his head dipping down to take her pink nipple in his mouth.

He held her close to him, suckling and moaning at the gentle stream of milk that filled his mouth, nothing in the world was sweeter than this.

Daenys carded her fingers through his hair while he nursed from her, his cock growing harder beneath his clothes.

Daenys moaned as her naked buttom grinds his clothed boner, her clit soaking wet.

"Keep my cock warm, will you?" Daemon groaned. Wasting no time he pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock.

"Keeping you warm is how I knocked up pregnant, Daemon" Daenys playfully rolled her eyes. She gasped when he lined up with her entrance. He rubbed the tip of his cock through her folds, before pushing in and holding her in place, as he gave her other nipple attention.

Daemon could feel his cock throb, wrapped around his wife's warmth, nursing from his babysister, he was sure he'd be able to cum without even moving.

Daemon couldn't stop suckling from her breast.

"Daemon.." she moaned. Her breast were too tender and sensitive now.

"Just a litle more?" He peeked up at her, almost whining when she clenched around him, nodding.

"Just a little more, only for you, my love," Daenys said, as she nursed his desires.

🥀

Five years have passed since Rhaenyra, Daemon, and Daenys married in the ways of Old Valyria. And during the times spent on Dragonstone, their family continued to grow- Aegon l and Viserys ll (Daemon and Rhaenyra's sons) and Aegor and Viseria (Daemon and Daenys's son and daughter). Rhaenyra was expecting another child. This time she hoped for a daughter.

"How is our little Visenya?" Daenys inquired, affectionately placing her hand on Rhaenyra's growing stomach.

"Restless," Rhaenyra smiled.

"Just like her mother, I see," Daenys teased her, then pulled her into a passionate kiss.

Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey has already accepted the dynamic well. They consider Daenys as their second mother and her children has their own siblings. In return, Rhaenyra also looked after Daenys children like her own.

Baela and Rhaena, tho remained with their grandparents, exchange letters often with Daenys. The girls were delighted upon hearing the news of the birth of another Targaryen girl. They couldn't wait to meet the Prince and the Princess.

"Where are going all dressed up?" Rhaenyra asked, eyeing her training gears.

"The courtyard, come join me," she smiled.

Rhaenyra watched Lucerys and Jacaerys train in the courtyard, while Daenys held her own sword out training with one of the guards on Dragonstone.

The boys watched their god mother give a powerful kick to her opponent sending him flying backwards and onto the ground.

Another tried to approach and strike - only for Daenys to dodge and the two exchanged blows with swords.

Eventually, it wasn't until the man let out a cry when her sword jabbed his shoulder which had been too late to block the attack, and fell to his knees.

The boys watched with open mouths of disbelief.

Rhaenyra huffed but smirked in pride, "Show off," she muttered.

"Well, she have learned from the best." Daemon who had been watching for a while smiled proudly at his wife.

Daenys smirked, handing the sword off to the nearest person, "I was just warming up." She grabbed Lucaerys and ruffled his hair playfully earning a cry from the boy.

Jacaerys laughed, before getting the same treatment from his mother, "Mother! Not my hair," he complained.

Rhaenyra proudly smiled at her son, she was utterly in love with all of her children, "Come on, let Daenys and Daemon continued their practice," she told the boys, "It's time for your High Valyrian lessons,"

🥀

A scroll was sent in the name of Rhaenyra.

Daenys and Daemon walked inside the hall, all cleaned up and fresh.

"Leave us," Rhaenyra tells her children.

"Joffrey, come." Jacaerys ushered Joffrey to follow. The maid got up as well and assisted Joffrey by picking up his book. Lucaerys also had picked up his books and scrolls.

The Maester followed and soon the doors closed, leaving the three together.

Rhaenyra took the small scroll from Daemon's hand and read it to herself. Daenys already knew what was inside the scroll, "What is it?"

"He means to call into question Luke's legitimacy. And by extension Jace, and by extension my claim to the throne." Rhaenyra uttered in distress.

"Vaemond cares only about Driftmark,' Daenys said with frustration, her striking purple eyes looking up at her love, "Can't believe Viserys thought of marrying me off to him,"

"He only cares about Velaryon line,"' Daemon said.

"Hm, this is what I fear. Rhaenys has flown to court. Surely, she cannot be planning to back him." Rhaenyra stated.

"We may share disagreements but Rhaenys isn't cruel," Daenys said, thinking about her cousin.

"Disagreements? She believes we had her son killed so we might marry." Rhaenyra retorted earning a look from Daenys.

This wasn't the first time Daenys heard this rumor and she even asked Rhaenyra and Daemon to come clean. But they swore that they had nothing to do with it.

'Yes ...and yet, she's taken the girls to the ward," Daenys said.

"In honor of Laena's memory. She has no love for either of us." Rhaenyra said.

Daemon gave Rhaenyra a look while glancing at Daenys," She still holds love for our precious Daenys," he cups her face and lets out a slight chuckle.

Daenys knew that he wasn't happy at all. Their brother has been surrounded by Hightower in the past five years.

"Has the vipers' venom spread so far?" Daemon said.

"Those vipers rule in my father's name. And my father..." Rhaenyra's voice held some edge in it. "What choice do we have?"

Daemon peered down at her belly and placed a gentle hand.He looked up at his wives, "To Kings Landing then,"

"A family reunion, just what we needed," Daenys said sarcastically.

A/N:

Well we all know Daemon's got Mommy issues!

Thank you for supporting my work sm😭 Never thought I'd make it past 50 likes.

[teleit]

Plot bunny - Daemyra meets the consequences of passion on the beach

Okay, this isn't my usual yapping about how I desperately want to ask HBO to provide the public with a report on the show's expenses and find out how much they pay those nine monkeys with typewriters and one college student with three other jobs who are posing as the House of the Dragon writing team.

But one thing leads to another, so I'm thinking about how convenient it is for Daemon and Rhaenyra to indulge their fetish for public intercourse, and somehow no one found them at all, even though they were not just simple servants, and they couldn't just disappear for a whole night without someone noticing.

And if someone had found them? Maybe someone like Laenor Velaryon?

Laenor, mad with grief, having almost drowned himself a few hours ago, and unable to sleep, escapes from surveillance and goes wandering around Driftmark and the surrounding area. He can't help but think about how his sister died, the one he hadn't seen in years but loved so much; how scared and desperate she was when she couldn't give birth herself, and how much pain she must have suffered; how she spent her last moments in agony and terror. He lost his sister and the nephew who killed her, and whom he almost hates, but knows Laena would never forgive him for those feelings.

And now he stumbles upon his wife and brother-in-law fucking like wild animals on the sand, hidden from the world by a rotten boat hulk. From the world, but not from Laenor.

A part of Laenor understands what these two feel, and is happy for them. His marriage to Rhaenyra was an arrangement that grew into friendship, but never into love; his true love died on the floor of the feast hall, beaten to death by the hands of Criston Cole. He is happy for her, finding solace in their cold, empty marriage, first in Harvin and now in the man she has desired for decades.

He is happy for Daemon. They are friends as much as they are family, which is rare in their houses. They fought together in the Stepstones, and Laenor was happy for them and Laena, the kind of man he would have wished for his sister - almost, Daemon had an unfinished gestalt with his niece, so it was not perfect. But Laena was happy, or sounded so in her letters, so Laenor accepted it as it was. True, now Laenor is more inclined to hate Daemon for laughing at the funeral, but Daemon is Daemon, and someday the pain of loss will pass and Laenor will be able to look at him again without disgust.

But this part is small, quiet, and immediately drowned out by the anger, fury and betrayal rising inside like a storm wave. How dare they! At the funeral of Laena! His sister! Who died giving birth to Daemon's son! Died far from home, far from her family! Daemon didn't even bring her body, just charred bones!! The coffin didn't even touch the seabed, and these two had already stuck together with their crotches!!! HOW DARE THEY HOW DARE THEY HOW DARE THEY!!!

And Laenor, in whom a sea of ​​hatred rages, takes up the blade. He doesn't think about anything, doesn't understand what he's doing, but he knows that these two people, half-naked and shuddering with vile pleasure, are his and Laena's traitors. They are monsters, and Laenor doesn't understand how he could have considered these two his friends.

Daemon Targaryen is still a rogue prince even with his pants down, and Laenor was never considered the best swordsman, at best a good one. Rhaenyra screams at them to come to their senses, but it's no use to Laenor. Daemon dodges the sword, disarms Laenor, but it's doesn't help at all - Velaryon does not listen, his eyes are empty and dark with hatred, he rushes at Daemon empty-handed, wanting to hurt him, just as he and Rhaenyra did to him and Laena.

And Daemon makes a mistake - he, a skilled warrior, underestimates Laenor's rage, and when he swings his blade, intended to drive Velaryon away, he pierces him. Laenor does not die quickly enough - he screams in pain and anger, screams so loudly that he attracts the attention of the guards, who were alerted when it became clear that Corlys' son had disappeared and every servant and guard rushed to search for him.

And what a picture the guards find - the heir of Lord Velaryon, husband of the crown princess and the father of her children, future king consort, Laenor Velaryon, agonizing on the dirty sand. Daemon, shirtless and with unbuttoned pants, with a bloody sword in his hands. And Princess Rhaenyra herself, Laenor's wife, looking at what is happening in horror, wrapped in a dress with loose lacing and pulled off her shoulders, disheveled and covered in sand.

The events that followed have not yet come together in my head in any confident way, there are so many possible consequences.

Rhaenyra and Daemon are caught at the crime scene with bloody hands, one of them not even metaphorically. Denying the fact of murder and sexual intimacy is simply stupid.

Rhaenyra has two options:

1) Lie about how she and Daemon were enthusiastically doing a vertical tango on the beach as soon as they had the chance. She will wring her hands, roll her eyes, and start crying about how her evil uncle tried to take advantage of her, and how the noble and fearless Laenor rushed to her rescue. No one will believe her, of course, but the consequences will be mostly laid on Daemon. He won't be executed as a kinslayer, because Viserys is a spineless whiner, but he will be sent to the Wall.

2) Stand with her uncle and go for broke, and if they die together, they will die together. Again, Viserys' spine is a monkey noodle, he will never kill his sweet daughter in his life, and will try to leave her as his heir, because she is the daughter of the woman he once cut up like a pig in a slaughterhouse.

In any case, what will happen for sure in any case is a complete loss of the Velaryon support for Rhaenyra, Luke losing his rights to inherit Driftmark and the Velaryon name in favor, most likely, of Baela, the loss of Daemon's rights to his daughters - this will be one of Corlys' first demands to the crown, he will not allow the only thing left of his daughter and children in general to remain in the hands of the man who killed his son. All of Westeros will discuss and condemn the actions of the Princess of Whores, Uncle's Delight, for many years. It would take a miracle for Viserys to leave her as his heir, but will he succeed, and what kind of reign awaits a woman with such a background?

Anyone want to add anything that I might have missed?

P.S. If someone wants to use my idea and turn it into a fanfic, be my guest, just tag me, and left a link in the comments down below, I REALLY want to read a story with such a plot =)

PPS. English can kiss my ass me in that scary and dark place where I learned it through sheer force

[syndrossi]

Halloween trick-or-treat prompts masterlist

For my own personal tracking, a semi-up-to-date list of the prompts and whether they've been filled for eventual treating on Halloween! Feel free to chime in in the replies with ones you'd particularly like to see filled if it's not getting love. I kinda picked the first one in the list and will otherwise do them as fancy strikes me.

Eventually I'll probably link these to their actual fills once published on Halloween.

What is trick-or-treat?

It's basically me sourcing a bunch of prompts for short fills (likely around 100-500 words apiece) in the Resonant 'verse that I can give out on Halloween as "treats" when people send me a "trick" ask!

Note that it's highly unlikely that I'll get to all of them, since there are over 60 of them, and I probably won't do more than 1 a day. Bold = complete, bold italics = up next.

Original post with prompts if anyone wants to comb through the replies to read the "fuller" prompts.

Missing Scenes

Caraxes POV of growing fond of the hatchlings

Laenor + Rhaenys + V boys discussing twins

Viserys POV of learning of boys

Random person's POV of the court discovering Rhea's treason/Daemon has trueborn twin sons

Erryk, Arryk or Harold's POV/thoughts on Jon and Rhaegar

Ser Willam's POV/thoughts on anything at all

Laenor POV when he found out about Daemon's twins

Laena's POV on being told that her betrothal is over and a match with Daemon might be incoming

Aemond’s POV about the twins, seeing his perspective of how wonderful Rhaegar is and his slow dawning resentment of Jon

More courtier reactions to Daemon and the boys

Jeyne’s reaction to Rheas confession and the arrival of Otto to the Vale

Ser Perkins' POV during the time the boys were "reborn"

Watercooler discussion of Daemon’s prodigy children

Alternate POVs of Canon Scenes

Caraxes POV of meeting the boys

Viserys POV of debrief scene

Rhaegar POV of first waking up/meeting Jon

Viserys POV when the twins take him to task and he’s left alone with the crown

The kidnappers’ POV 🚧

Rhaegar's POV when Jon gave him the bracelet

POV of Aegon/Aemond on the new family members

Ser Kelwyn arriving at the keep or POV on Daemon and the twins

Rhaegar from Daemon's vision reacting to him in his final moments

Halloween-themed Prompts

Qelebrys + apple cider round 2

Shadow + discovering a pumpkin

Twins + hatchlings + piles of colorful leaves

Cousins telling scary stories around a candle in the dark

Jon&Rhaegar discovering an old spooky room lost in the tunnels

Daemon + kids who swear they are not scared but also who can't seem to sleep because of Things That Go Bump In The Night

Rhaegar + singing and/or harp playing (bonus: if it's a ~haunting melody~)

Shadow (and Qelebrys) meeting a stray black cat

Jon and Rhaegar dressing up as Ser Erryk and Ser Arryk, bonus points if they convince Cargyll twins to play along

Jon and Rhaegar going to a costume party as Caraxes and Vhagar to echo Aemon and Baelon

Daemon dreams of Aemon and Baelon meeting the boys

What-ifs

What if Rhea didn't die?

What if Rhaegar was also 19 when the twins get Summerhalled?

What if Jon and Rhaegar’s pre-Summerhall ages were flipped?

Reversal!AU: Daemon's reaction to suddenly having eight-year-old twin little girls

What if the twins were born right after Rhea and Daemon's wedding? plus bonus Jaehaerys POV/reaction

What if Ghost is reborn in the Resonant 'verse and finds Jon?

What if the boys wake up at age 5 and Daemon finds them earlier?

Miscellaneous Prompts

Rhaenys rescues twins from Otto

Jon&Rhaegar + dancing

New Otto POV in which he schemes and/or thinks about how smart and gifted and annoyingly perfect Daemon's children are

Daemon POV wherein he thinks about how smart and gifted and perfect his babies are

Candle's POV on being dropped to the bottom of the ocean where it can only watch the fishes

Jon having another Little Lord Commander moment and/or punching someone who deserves it

Jon + Jace/Luke/Joffrey playing with his new wooden ship toys

Viserys + Jace/Luke besieging him with requests for Vermax/Arrax to be allowed in the Red Keep too

Jon + Rhaegar + Daemon + hugs, tears and manipulation tactics for nefarious purposes

Jon + getting his hair braided

Jon and/or Rhaegar getting sick + Daemon being traumatized by every sneeze/cough/etc

Jon + Rhaegar introducing Jace/Luke to the words "stick 'em with the pointy end"

Rhaegar + Alicent or Daemon with harp playing/singing

The boys foiling someone’s attempts to flirt with Daemon

Some funny scene related to Daemon's marriage hunt

A scene from Jon/Rhaegar's past lives, people reacting to their disappearance

POV of someone from the Kingsguard watching the children play 

Helaena, Jon and Rhaegar interactions? She deserves to have a twirl around the ballroom or play with the hatchlings again.

Someone “joking” that Otto is besotted with Daemon the way he keeps talking about him

Another sleepover? Daemon and/or Rhaegar catching Jon trying to get up early and just squishing him

Daemon learning what the twins gave each other for their last name day

Sassy and manipulative Rhaegar scene (destroying Viserys or random courtier)

Rhaegar singing to a larger audience and the reactions people give

Jon biting someone who’s keeping him and Rhaegar from their dad, bonus points if it’s a TG member

POV of someone thinking how similar the twins are to their father

Daemon accidentally overhearing the twins being sad, feeling destroyed, and trying his best to cheer them up

A meeting between Daemon and canon!Rhaegar in a vision

Daemon running on instinctive dad-mode rescues one of the Green kids from a minor peril

Daemon overhears an upsetting song

[writtingforfun]

Daemon Targaryen x reader

She’s Leana’s sister and married to daemon. On Leana’s funeral daemon and Rhaenys manage to convince Corlys to declare daemon son next lord of the tides. Later Rhaenyra try to talk to daemon about the issue saying her son should be lord of the tides. Daemon and reader just say to her that bastards won’t have the driftwood seat.

Hey, I hope you enjoy this and that it fits your request.

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!reader

He should be your heir

The three Velaryon siblings had always been close. They were both fire and sea; they burned as hot as dragon fire and were restless as the sea during a storm. They grew between both elements, they were taught the Valyrian ways, they claimed dragons and they felt at ease at the shores.

The first to wed had been the middle child, a girl of beautiful dark skin and silver curls. She had a tinge of purple circling her irises. After the sudden demise of Lady Rhea, she quickly connected with Prince Daemon, the most fascinating man she had ever met. The girl had been swooned by him from a very young age. Corlys had loudly celebrated this union, happy to unite the Velaryons to the Targaryens once again.

The second to wed had been Laenor. While both parents were happy with the chance to have their son be the future Queen's consort, worry had filled their family. They all knew of Laenor's taste, and his sisters supported him with all their hearts. Regardless of agreements between the heir and him, he'd still have to bed her and have new heirs. It's a pity it didn't work.

Laena was the last one to marry.

The two Velaryon girls were happy and in love with their husbands, as for Laenor... He was happy with his side piece.

Prince Daemon and his wife were expecting their first child just two moons after they were wed. A boy was born and they named him Aelor. Aelor was his father's twin in everything but the color of his skin, a true-born Targaryen and Velaryon.

In their 10 years together, they had been blessed with four children.

Aelor with 10 namedays, Maela and Gaellor, twins of 8 namedays and Taemon with just 4 namedays. And a soon-to-be brother or sister was in their mothers heavy belly, halfway of her term.

It had been excrutiating for her to hear the news of her dear sister's death on the birthing bed, she had collapsed on the floor with tears and loud screams of the pain of losing her.

They had lived at Driftmark for their entire marriage, only leaving to take their children on adventures across the skies. They had the perfect life; it was filled with laughter and joy as well as the warmth of their family. With Laenor living at the Red Keep and Laena at Pentos, it had been up to her to bring joy to her parents. Corlys and Rhaenys dotted on all of their grandchildren, but mostly on the ones brought by their youngest girl. They had brought sunlight to their lives after beeing separated from their other two children.

She made it her mission to greet everyone to ease the weight on her parent's shoulder, forgetting that she herself had a noticable weight to carry in safety. Daemon, always the caring and loving husband he was, never left her side or their children's side.

Not even when Rhaenyra had arrived as if she owned the place. "It will belong to my husband and my son after him", she had replied smugly when reprehended about her manners.

She was nervous and saddened, Laena had been a great friend to her. But to rub in her parent's face her light skinned children... it was too much.

Later that night she and Daemon had talked about how it should be their son, their Aelor, to sit on the throne of Driftmark, for he was the closest male heir after Laenor.

Rhaenys and Corlys laid in bed with saddness between them. They'd never see their Laena. At least they had the joy of their grandchildren. Aelor and Maella had made it their mission to cheer them up, to lift their spirits even if just a tad.

"Come in," Rhaenys said as someone knocked on their chamber's door.

"Mother, father. I hope we are not disturbing terribly"

"No, of course," Corlys hurried her and Daemon inside. She was always his favorite, his precious girl, the girl that always begged him to tell stories from when he was sailling across the continents.

"We need to talk"

"About?"

Daemon took the lead and explained their concerns "you know I'm right. It's Aelor's birthright. Everything in Rhaenyra's life is because she was the firstborn of my brother. With Laena gone and no children behind, it should be my wife and then our son who becomes Lord of the Tides."

Corlys exhaled frustrated, "History remembers names, not blood, Daemon"

"Everything is about blood, father. Everything. Fire runs through my veins. As does the sea. Where does Lucerys have that? Why should he sail as if he owned the place?"

"Because-"

Rhaenys cuts him before he can defend his thoughts "They are right, husband. Our trueborn grandchildren are left with nothing when her bastards inherit the throne as well as this seat. I love those boys, and Jace is in fact Rhaenyra's heir. But not Laenor's."

"To change it would be a blow to the Targaryens."

"Except he is a Targaryen." Daemon defends.

"Exactly. He does not bear the Velaryon name. Lucerys does."

"Name him your heir," Daemon says as he takes his wife's hand. "Name him and he will take my wife's name. Your name"

Rhaenys had been adamant on making sure her husband would choose correctly, and finally he did. Finally he saw it. Aelor Targaryen would come as Lord of the Tides after Corlys. Aelor Velaryon, of house Targaryen and Velaryon, Lord of the Tides, rider of Aemax.

The first Lord of the Tides to fly on top of a dragon and to sail on ship. To say that his parents were proud of him was to say the least.

But of course that Rhaenyra was not happy. While Laenor seemed content to be freed from having to step into his father's footsteps, she was mad.

"He is Laenor's son, he should be Lord of the Tides, not Aelor. Uncle," she pleaded "its not fair"

"Lucerys is anything but Laenor's son. They are bastards, and bastards don't take the Driftwood seat"

[writingsofwesteros]

What would happen if Daemon did get Rhaenyra pregnant in the brothel and she had a beautiful daughter? He comes back after Laena sees her and feels the sick vibe like he did with Rhaenyra like his daughter is the ultimate Valryian beauty he needs. He married Rhanyera only to get close to his daughter. He feels list take over him seeing her grow into a beautiful woman, with full breasts, curves, and thighs. Not knowing his daughter has the same mindset as him. So when he tells Nyra he gonna take their daughter to Pentos to make up for lost time travels. Nyra does not think much. Not til Daemon and his daughter are both in Pentos, in a fancy villa. Daemon trying to be reserved, doesn't know his daughter is plotting herself. When she comes out of her room dressed in the most thinnest slit. She walks up to Daemon calling him Daddy, saying she wants to be his one and only, plus bear his children. Daemon harder than he every been. Kisses his daughter, pushing tongue in were they but swat spit like they were long lost lovers. The daughter feeling her father strong arms around her waist, start rubbing her father through him pants. Stroking his hard cock, wanting in down her throat and in her tight cunt.

Daemon rubs his daughter's small clothes. Moans at hearing her soft whimpers and cries for him. He rips the slit, palming at her huge tits, attaching his lips to her perky nipples, to where she moans "Daddy that feels so good." Pulling him back into a heated kiss, his daughter, pulling his pants down, squating on knees before, licking the head of his leaking tip. She love the essence of her father cum, swirls before engulfing his huge cock in her throat making sure to deepthroat him all the way, while rubbing her clit. Daemon pulls her out before he climaxes.

Picking her up and tossing her on the bed where, he spreads her legs before sucking her clit in his mouth, making her pulling his soft hair, calling out to him "Daddy, daddy". Daemon licking and sucking his daughter's cunt, builds a fire in him, that Rhaynera couldn't even ignite. Once he makes her come. He fully sheaths inside her, to where that makes sweet passionate love, while still kissing. Daemon says "I'm so glad you were born my beautiful daughter." With her reply being "I love you, Daddy," "I love you my sweet daughter, my precious lover,.....my future wife." She only smiles at the thought of carry your father child in your womb.

https://www.sex.com/pin/56253993-cunnilingus-licking-eating-pussy-porn-gifs/

https://www.sex.com/pin/58798646-deep-throat-my-cock-and-ill-deposit-my-cum-im-your/

https://www.sex.com/pin/66443855-slow-deep-and-sensual/

!!!!!

THE HOTTEST !!!!!!!

He really does want the perfect Targaryen Princess and now he has her

[bietchz]

Why don't you just kill me? - Daemon Targaryen x reader

Why don't you just kill me?

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: slight smut and allusions to it, jealousy, violence, mentions of a previous envolvement between Daemon and Rhaenyra.

Note: Ok, this is it, the first thing I write here. I'm nervous and English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes to begin with. I was challenged by a friend to write under the prompt "why don't you just kill me?" and this was the result.

Living at the Red Keep was a lot to deal with. Between enormous meals that never ended and political talks back and forward, me and my big sister, Rhaenyra, had our hands full. Especially her, though. Being the little Targaryen has always left me a bit overshadowed because Nyra would have the focus of being the Realm’s heir, leaving me to be the Realm’s Dove. People said that my silver hair and my soft features always remembered them of innocence and purity, and I absolutely hated that.

All my childhood, me and Nyra were obsessed with Uncle Daemon, he used to be a role model to us, even though everyone told us that he was rogue. And indeed, he was. Many years later, there were rumors that he defiled my sister in a brothel and that’s why she was so urgently married to Sir Laenor. He wanted her, like everyone also prefers Rhaenyra.

I only noticed his eyes on me on Laena’s funeral. After twenty years of living, finally I earned his attention. Maybe, his eyes only wondered for a bit time longer than they used to, but for me that made my day. Daemon was finally free again and his eyes were on me. What I did not notice was the hateful look I received from my sister. For the first time in my life, Rhaenyra was jealous of me, and I had no idea. After some kind words the Velaryons had to say about Laena, her body was thrown into the sea, and I watched the coffin sink. For some reason, I felt chills all over my body and then I felt his breath near my ear.

“Dear niece. You’ve grown.”

His voice was deep, and it touched my insides, leaving them on fire. I couldn’t bring myself to lift my chin, to turn around, to face him. I was afraid I was going to melt.

“Uncle. It’s been a long time. I’m a woman now.”

“Who did your father promised you to?” His voice was quick to keep the conversation going. He clearly had a motive to talk to me and I was starting to understand it.

“Jason Lannister.” I whispered, with disgust in my voice. I still didn’t believe what I was saying, but Viserys was convinced he was the best match.

“That old cunt? He could be your father. And that smug look on his face is utterly disgusting.” His tone was mocking, but did I find a hint of jealousy in it? Maybe.

“It’s the King’s perfect match. Not even my doe eyes could dissuade him. I’m doomed.” The last part was said in a murmur. I could not question the King’s decisions out loud, what would everyone think…?

A loud noise was heard, and everyone looked back. Everyone but Daemon, whose eyes remained on me. I gulped when I realized the proximity between us, but when I looked at Rhaenyra and saw that she had hurt herself with a mug, I ran to her to stop de bleeding with my bare hands. In my spare time, I usually hid in the library and red some of the maesters’ books on medicine. That made me more ready to these kinds of situations than almost everyone around me, so I was the one who helped Rhaenyra to get inside and to bandage her wound. I lost Daemon from my sight with all this chaos.

______________________________________________________________

After dinner with the Velaryons and a weirdly passive-aggressive Rhaenyra, I went to my chambers, ready for a good night of sleep so I could ride on Vermithor tomorrow without the risk of falling because of being tired. Well, I couldn’t be more wrong. Daemon was right there, siting on the armchair near the bathtub I used that morning.

“I was in doubt if I should show myself before or after you undressed, but I just couldn’t resist seeing you again.” He said as he stood up, walking in my direction. Those words caught me off guard and I could only observe as he got near, and his hand caressed my cheek. “The most beautiful woman should not end up with that fucking lion. You are a dragon, you deserve a dragon. Do you want one, sweet girl?”

“Yes.” The words could barely escape my mouth, but the answer was certain, I felt sure of that. I wanted that, I wanted him, Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince. “But I only want you.”

And that was enough to get his hands all over me. When I noticed, his hands were on my thighs and forcing me to jump to him. My dress rode up my legs with this movement and when he threw me onto my bed, I was practically exposed. I understand the Rogue part of him now: his fierceness, his bruteness, it was exhilarating, and I didn’t mind burning with his fire. We made love all night and any secrecy we might wanted to have, was thrown out of the roof the moment he delved between my legs and made me see stars with his tongue. When I woke up the morning after, I could still feel his seed that he pumped continuously into me the night before. I was utterly and completely ruined by Daemon Targaryen, and I enjoyed the feeling. I woke him up with kisses and his tight hug pulling me against him was the key to know that he had awaken.

“Good morning, sweet thing. Did you sleep well?” He asked, burying his nose on my neck, and spoiling me with little and stern kisses. “I shall speak with your father today. Our wedding will be in a fortnight if everything goes to plan.”

“In a fortnight? Were you already planning this before you even spoke with me?” I had to laugh because that was really a Daemon thing to do. He always had things his way.

“Maybe.”

______________________________________________________________

We took a long time getting up and getting ready. I needed another bath before breakfast and Daemon took the blankets in my room to burn and hide the evidence of what happened. As I was exiting the bathtub, Rhaenyra entered my chambers in a rush, slamming the door behind her and leaving us both alone.

“What do you think you’re doing, sister?” Nyra’s words were laced with venom and breathing got a little harder for me. She never talked to me like that, she didn’t even sound like my sister. “Daemon is out of reach. He is mine.”

“Rhaenyra, I-” She stopped me before I could even continue.

“No. He was my first. He saw me first. He had me first. He chose me first. Who the hell do you think you are to try and rob me of all that. You had to pick that skimpy dress, almost shoving your tits on his face so you would notice you. And for what? Did he come here, promised sweet nothings and some good fucking and then leave? Guess what? It wasn’t a first. It happened to me, too.”

“He didn’t promise. He delivered. He spent the night, and he is now speaking with dad so we can marry in a fortnight. He came here, to Driftmark, wanting me. He is over you, Rhaenyra. You should get over him.” And after those words I just said, I could see the fire burning in her eyes.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into. He won’t marry you, not on my watch. I shall repeat so it is very clear to you: he is mine and you will not be in the middle of my future with him.” She said louder, so sure of her words, that she ignited some kind of emotion on me that I can’t really describe.

“And what are you going to do, Rhaenyra? Why don’t you just kill me? Surely, that would give you the happy ending you so desire.”

“Well, maybe that’s what I’m going to do.” She said as she pulled a dagger from her tight beneath her dress and left me in shock.

[lovedreamer11]

Big anti hotdrhaenyra. HBO will never make me betray canon Rhaenyra.

Now the opinion is actively spreading that people showed their true colors after the release of the sixth episode of the second season of hotd. And that supposedly those who are unhappy with the changes made to the characters in the show, especially Rhaenyra, are not true fans of her and such actions insult the canon.

But I will reveal the truth. Just the opposite is true. The Rhaenyra from the show is not the real Rhaenyra. This is a faceless, stupid, selfish character.

The real Rhaenyra is a completely different person. Proud, hot-tempered, vindictive. She's not perfect. But she is more like a real person with real flaws.

Rhaenyra never had any problems with her gender. She was a woman, she admitted it. The Queen did not envy Daemon and did not dream of being born a man. Rhaenyra admired Visenya, but she was not her and did not try to become her.

I love that she didn’t care at all about the court’s opinion of her personal life, because she didn’t even try to pretend that she and Laenor were a married couple when she allowed her husband to live his life on Driftmark, surrounded by his favourites.

Rhaenyra was not a crazy nymphomaniac who fucked everything that moved. There is a possibility that their marriage to Laenor was never consummated, and sexual relations with Criston are refuted by all sources. In her life were: the father of her three children, Harwin, there is a possibility that there was Laena (I don’t really think it true, but this theory is very popular so let’s count it) and Daemon.

She really could love. Rhaenyra sent her husband to kill the man who dared to insult her sons. Rhaenyra's grief for Luke was so great that she fainted at the news of his death and did not take part in the war council. One of the factors that exacerbated the queen's paranoia was the deaths of Jace and Viserys, to which was added the alleged betrayal of her husband.

Rhaenyra insisted that Laena be cared for after her difficult birth by her personal maester, renowned for his healing skills, and she wanted Gerardys to care for Viserys' health. Out of love for her father, she did not cause any harm to Alicent, although she had every right to do otherwise.

Eustace confirms that Daemon was his niece's first love and appears to be the love of her life, as baby Aegon was conceived immediately after Laena's death and while Harwin was still alive. Even Mushroom mentions Daemon as Rhaenyra's "beloved husband", and Rhaenyra herself calls her husband "my prince" and is furious at rumors that her husband might be leaving her for a younger woman. And even if Daemon did cheat on his wife with Mysaria, Rhaenyra herself remained a faithful wife to her husband and had no other lovers during their marriage or after Daemon's death (I have a feeling the showRhaenyra will fuck showAlicent right after showJoffrey's death).

Rhaenyra loved her family. She loved her so much that it almost destroyed her. And I think that one of the reasons why Rhaenyra did not follow her sister's example after escaping from the capital was her love for her last living child, Aegon.

ShowRhaenyra doesn't care about anyone but herself. She has already forgotten about her dead children and is now running around the island with a dissatisfied face, dreaming of becoming a man and apparently looking for someone who fuck her. She was ready to give the Hightowers, the people who discussed her murder in episode nine, her youngest sons, without even consulting the father of her children. She went to the capital to negotiate peace with murderers, traitors and usurpers, without thinking about the negative consequences for her family.

ShowRhaenyra demands advice from the lords, but rejects all advice offered. She's hysterical and doesn't offer anything herself.

ShowRhaenyra left her father to rot alone for six years and remembered his existence, only then did she need her trash to be cleaned up after her.

ShowRhaenyra didn't get sex from showDaemon in episode four, so she went and fucked the first man she could find. This was not the act of the girl boss or a progressive woman (as black fans of the show believe) or a rapist (as green fans of the show believe), it was the act of an idiot who, being the heir to the throne in a patriarchal and misogynistic world, decided to put her reputation at risk for the sake of the man, and she didn't even love him so much. She has no right to say that showDaemon destroyed her reputation. Yes, I agree, the situation with the brothel was his fault, but it was not showDaemon who put showCriston in his niece’s bed and it was not he who advised her to give birth to obvious bastards for ten years.

At the beginning of the sixth episode of the first season, she scolded showLaenor for having the audacity to give a name to her son, and then in the next scene she shouted at showLaenor that her bastards were his sons and he should be their father and obliged to help her get out from the hole she dug for herself.

ShowMysaria talked about how she was sexually assaulted and what is your blessed girl boss doing? She immediately tries to "comfort" the other woman by starting a sexual relationship and uses showMysaria just like all the other men in her life. If Matt had been on Emma place, ​​the poor man would have been stoned and accused of harassment.

And of course, how can one not remember that the real Rhaenyra was a style icon in Westeros, preferring purple and maroon colors, Myrish lace, diamonds and pearls? The showrhaenyra wore garbage bags in the first season and cheap robes in the second.

Every time any fans support changes to the show and insist that the show is more canon than the book, they insult the true Rhaenyra.

This is the true Rhaenyra Targaryen. She and only she.

Not Milly, not Emma. Their character is a terrible daughter, wife, mother, sister, friend and queen. Sara and Ryan wrote their own fanfic and made show about it. And in a freak accident, they gave the characters in the show the same names that GRRM gave the characters in his books.

[ride-thedragon]

The Adultification of Baela Targaryen.

Something that I've noticed is that with a more prominent role this season Baela is being adultified by the adults in her life so far.

Rhaenys: They were together for 6 years on Driftmark, but due to the fact that she's patrolling the Gullet, Baela is kind of left to fend for herself in this new position and with the idea that she has to prove herself. It's not Rhaenys' fault, obviously, but it plays into the idea that she has to grow up a lot quicker than she did previously. Her parental figure is away doing what she can, and Baela is eager to replicate that example.

Daemon: Now her actual parent is being dismissive of her. Baela and Daemon have one scene in season 1.

In my humble opinion, he and Laena simply took to the child they could relate more to and was more interested. It wasn't simply Laena taking Rhaena because Daemon didn't want her.

But, now, six years later, that dynamic has changed. She is under the watch of Rhaenys. All the moments he would've shared with her, perfecting High Valyrian, learning to ride a dragon, and learning the ways of court have been learnt through Rhaenys. That's not to say they aren't close enough. She's the person who sends the letter to him about the Driftmark sucession issue.

The issue is, in that scene, he's in a mood because in typical Daemon fashion, his actions have consequences.

He ignores her because he's upset, not because he hates her, and you can tell that Baela is thrown off by it. I'm not saying it's the first time, just that she doesn't have a tolerance for it. She goes into the room and we see that she has a lot more childish expression towards it.

She asks about him hesitantly after seeing and gauging the situation. She's growing up and learning that he isn't perfect, and unlike with Laena, they can't and don't have to hide their fights from her anymore, no matter how much her tone seems to want it.

Because she is still young and doesn't understand, nor should she have to understand the volatile creature Daemon is. So she wonders if sometimes she simply just hates him, because it would be a lot less work.

But because this isn't meant to be a full analysis of their relationship, the point is that Daemon expects her to have an understanding of this and from his past behaviour still manage to understand that they are on the same side. Baela is 16 years old.

Rhaenyra: I saw someone say that Rhaenyra is risking Baela because she doesnt care about her, which was funny in the context but unfounded in the narrative and based on interview. The posts about this are great though.

Jacaerys volunteers to fly above King's Landing to monitor what Aegon intends to do and to see if he retaliates. She specifically says no because the last time he volunteered to do something, his brother was killed by the enemy. Her saying no can be based on the fact that Jace might be a little hot-headed if anything happens and try to fight like he did in episode 8 and the fact that like her father, she sees the risk and doubles down on the fact that she can't risk her heir.

So she sends Baela.

In all seriousness, it's the theme of adultification yet again. Some people think she's lashing out at Daemon through Baela, but she's not hateful towards the girls, and she certainly isn't malicious enough to make children pay for the crimes of their parents.

But what she is doing is treating Baela like an adult because she's eager to help and seemingly more level-headed than Jace would be. Rhaenyra didn't see Baela grow up. She didn't raise Baela. Rhaenys did, and Rhaenys is the most competent advisor and the only advisor she has that listens to her. She's treating Baela in a very similar way.

The issue with that is that Baela is 16 YEARS OLD. She is the same if not similar age to Jace. They are putting her in a position and risking her because she is seen as more responsible (someone said eldest daughter syndrome) when she is most likely not and from what we've seen, she's just as eager to prove herself.

Overall,

I just hope they follow through with this narrative but also allow her some grace. We see her being moody about Daemon, and that's really excellent because that means it's purposeful and recognised by the narrative, which is one of the biggest strides they taken in subverting stereotypes with the Velaryons. She's a kid, let her be a kid.

[morganas-pendragons]

All That Time We Were Silent | Aemond Targaryen

This idea will not leave me alone. Violet Hill by Coldplay remains one of my favorite songs and I loved writing this concept for my first Aemond fic. Not to mention that every single Paris Paloma song is House of the Dragon coded. I don’t know. It makes me want to write a series for this pair (particularly one where SPOILERS SPOILERS Aemond dies at The God's Eye and it's this reader who kills him instead of Daemon -> put to The Fruits by Paris Paloma, because I have no self control and will use the same song and multiple different lyrics as titles)

The reader in this is female, and she's about two years older than Aemond. Also Rhaenys and Corlys' youngest daughter.

Anyway. This is set pre and post Rooks Rest with Velaryon!Reader, but it is Rhaenys’ daughter with Corlys because I can’t handle moms who lose all their children (ahem I’m looking at you Carol Peletier) 😭

***

"My sweet little dragon," Your mother caught your face in her hands, dark eyes staring down into your own as you stopped pacing in the halls of The Red Keep. It had only been mere hours since Alicent had delivered the news that your betrothal to Aemond was broken off. You were still so confused about why it had happened at all. Just mere days ago, you were gathering the courage to actually confess to Aemond how you felt. "Do not let that fire go uncontained."

"Mother-"

Rhaenys shook her head. Of her three children, you had always had the most spirit: You were far more likely than Laena and Laenor both to get yourself into trouble. You were the fire she believed would never stop burning.

"Listen to me. You are blood of the dragon, salt of the sea. You are a perfect split of myself and your father." Rhaenys hummed as she pulled you into her side, fingers gently winding through your hair as you hid your face in her shoulder. It was easy to forget that you were barely ten and eight. You also fiercely loved your parents. They were all you had left.

"I loved him, and she took him! What was wrong with me? What did I do?"

"I know. You did nothing. It is all the crown who pushes this upon you." Rhaenys knew better. She knew exactly why Alicent had taken it upon herself to split your betrothal to Aemond. You were getting too close. She couldn't have that happen to her precious son. "Above all, remember this. Fire can consume. That's what its purpose is. Please, sweetheart, do not let it take away those precious parts of you that the Hightowers have tried so hard to steal."

You often thought about how hard your mother tried to maintain your innocence after your brother and sister died. How your mother and father had trained you up as both salt and sea, fire and blood, determined that they would not lose another child while being involved with Rhaenyra's ascension.

Your mother had tried so hard to temper that anger down. It had worked, for a while.

Then Rook's Rest happened.

***

You found yourself positioned between Corlys and Rhaenys as Jace continued in his questioning of his mother after her sudden departure. Rhaenyra's explanation is as sound as she can make it - attempting for peace before plunging the realm into war - and you cannot find fault in her for going to see Alicent. The pursuance of peace is far more important then a war between dragons.

You dare not think about the end. How many dragons would be left?

How many people at this table would still be breathing?

"Cole's victories have only emboldened him." Rhaenys remarked. "He marches on Rook's Rest."

"Why Rook's Rest?" Rhaenyra questioned. "After Duskendale? It's but a small coastal keep."

You're not paying much attention to the remarks of old men spread across the table. You're not a strategist, not by any means, but you are itching for the opportunity to meet Aemond in the field. You have the second largest claimed dragon besides your mother, and you have the most experience in flight. You are a dragon rider.

You are capable of this.

More than anything, you want to make him pay for what he did to you. For how he hurt you. You want him to remember the pain you endured and the way he'd abandoned you. Left alone to face the phantoms remaining inside a little cliffside house by the sea. You'd visited it far more times then you cared to admit after your betrothal had been broken off.

You want to turn his silence - which has spread across the years, as the Prince has not attempted to send ravens since just before Viserys died - into begging, into screams that echo across a scorched battlefield as you plunge your sword into his heart.

It's the least of what he deserves.

"Send me." Jacerys interjected. Your heart sank as you watched the Prince's attempts at negotiating with his mother, eager to serve and eager to fight.

Rhaenyra would never let the loss of another son stand.

"No." Rhaenyra snapped.

"I will burn Coles lines and withdraw before King's Landing can raise the alarm-"

"You lack the experience."

You cleared your throat and stepped out of your space between your mother and father. "I will go," You said firmly. "I have the second largest dragon here besides Meleys and have experience. Nightshade was actively in battle prior to me claiming her. I also am able to evade Vhagar and Aemond. It could be a potential opportunity to take Aemond out of the-"

"No." Rhaenys' voice is clear and sharp as she stepped into your space, firm hand resting on your shoulder as your father nodded his confirmation of your mother's statement. "You must send me, Your Grace. Meleys is your largest dragon and no stranger to battle. I will meet Cole."

Both Corlys and yourself watched Rhaenys meet Rhaenyra's eyes before she released you from her grasp and began her pace toward the Dragon Mont. You could tell Rhaenyra did not want her Hand to depart.

You did not wish your mother to go either. Not with such threat of death looming over her.

"Mother!"

Rhaenys turned to gaze at you over her shoulder. Donned in her ceremonial armor and crown, The Queen Who Never Was softened at the sight of her daughter as you stormed into the Dragon Mont. Meleys whined at the sight of you. She could always acutely feel her rider's fierce devotion to her children. "Do not argue with this," Rhaenys said. "I will not let you meet your end in battle when you are the future of our House. Stay here, defend Rhaenyra, attend to your duty as a Targaryen. Do you understand me?"

"But Aemond-" You interjected, pausing as she reached underneath her shoulders and unfastened her cloak, tightening it around you until the dragon clasped just beneath her neck. You shuddered and leaned forward to rest your head on her shoulder. You would've been lying if you said you weren't terrified. "Please, Mother. Please come back."

Rhaenys smiled and tilted your head forward to press a kiss upon the crown, tightening her cloak around your shoulders before turning to Meleys. "We're off to battle again, old girl." She whispered. Identical eyes met your own before she grabbed the side of her saddle. "My littlest dragon..."

It was only then she remembered how young you were. How alone you were.

"Mother?"

"Avy jorrāelan, my Princess."

Tears burned your eyes as Meleys roared and took off through the mouth of the Mont.

You never saw her again.

***

Rhaenys turned her back to gaze upon Vhagar as Sunfyre descended and fell into the woods. It would've been the perfect opportunity to turn back. To retrieve you from Dragonstone, to have two of Rhaenyra's largest dragons take flight against Vhagar would nearly guarantee a victory for the Black Queen.

She did not do either.

The Queen Who Never Was ordered her dragon to attack, tied herself into her saddle, and took off through the smoke that had settled over Rook's Rest.

She dare not dwell upon her own memories of this dragon she was about to face. About Laena claiming Vhagar, about your first ride upon both Vhagar and Meleys, about your own claiming of Nightshade... of Laenor and Laena.

The nights she'd spent upon the window waiting for Corlys to come home, all three of her children with her.

She dare not dream of home.

***

"Do you ever wish it for us?"

"Wish what?" You asked, twirling your fingers through the ends of Aemond's hair where his head rested upon your chest. "All I wish for us is to take our dragons to the ends of the earth and spend the rest of my life indulging in the finest chocolates and wine with the man I love. That is what I wish."

Aemond snorted and curled himself deeper into your side. "To be able to properly express our love. I don't think my mother will ever let it happen. This. Us. She won't let it continue. Not with the threat of Rhaenyra sitting the Iron Throne-"

"I don't want to think about Rhaenyra, Aemond." You murmured. "I want to think about you and me. That's a far happier memory then to dwell upon all the times The Stranger has descended upon my family. I will not let the Gods take what we have from me too."

Aemond tried not to think of you when Vhagar descended upon Meleys, teeth clamped firmly into her neck while the other dragon roared.

He tried not to think of all the times he'd seen you with this dragon himself, with Vhagar, all the times he'd had those precious words on the tip of his tongue when he watched your joy in the face of such terrifying beasts.

If you love me.. won't you let me know?

Aemond could not risk it. Admitting to his growing feelings, his growing adoration, gave his mother another weapon to use against him. You were far too good of a thing in his life for Aemond to be okay with Alicent weaponizing that.

That had been why she'd broken off the betrothal. It wasn't her idea.

It was his.

If you love me, why'd you let me go?

He tried not to think of you as the world was enveloped in fire, and he tried not to think of you as he watched the Red Queen descend into the castle at Rook's Rest. She did not get back up.

He was told The Queen Who Never Was died that very same day.

***

It was Baela who delivered the news to you.

"Auntie?"

You turned your head to acknowledge the Princess and smiled, beckoning her deeper into your chambers. "Enter, sweet girl." The peace that had fallen upon you in your time waiting for your mother to come home dissipated once you recognized the tears brimming in Baela's eyes. "What is it?"

You tightened your fingers in your mother's cloak as Baela broke the news. You expected to be much more upset. Devastated. What you felt instead was that same anger that your mother had spent years tempering in you begin creeping to the surface. You were most certainly not your father and mother's daughter.

Maybe that anger came from deeper in your family line. Maybe it was generational. Maybe all Targaryens harbored anger like this.

"She died a warrior." You murmured. You wanted to believe that. You did believe that. Your mother would have fought valiantly against whatever foe dare face her. "She died a true dragon rider. We can only wish the same for ourselves."

"What is to be done now?" Baela asked.

Your thoughts automatically went to your father. Your father, waiting for a wife who would never come home. Your father residing upon the Driftwood Throne in a castle that would resemble a tomb, for none of its occupants remained. They were all dead. All that remained of them was their memory.

"I need to go home. To see your grandsire," You said quietly. "The loss of my mother will devastate us both-"

"Has it not already?"

You had to consider her question thoroughly before being able to answer it. When your brother and sister had died, it had taken you a significantly longer period of time than your mother and father to adjust. To be able to properly allow yourself to grieve. How was there time for the luxury of grief when the obligation of being the Heir to the Driftwood Throne was being pressed down upon you?

"Not yet. My anger will get the better of me first." You sighed and squeezed the girl's shoulders before releasing her. "And then the grief will surely follow."

***

Rhaenyra called you into the room with the Painted Table some hours later. You were not ready to hear her. Just as you'd said, Baela watched Rhaenyra attempt to offer consolation and comfort in the face of your mother's loss.

This was, in your words, three people that Rhaenyra Targaryen had taken from you. You would not allow your father to be the next.

"Princess-"

"No!" You yelled. All the voices in the room died as Rhaenyra's head snapped upward, blue eyes meeting your own from across the painted table as you stormed forward. "I refuse participate in a war like this one. I don't care if your legitimacy has been contested. My mother was the only reason I allowed for myself and Nightshade to take part. I will not risk the future of my House or my dragon for the sake of the Iron Throne."

You knew you were being irrational. It was easier to be irrational and angry for the loss of your mother and direct it at Rhaenyra then come to your second most devastating realization: Despite how much you still loved Aemond, you were going to have to be the one to kill him. You were going to have to be the one to kill him because he was the one who took your mother from you.

Right now, you had one goal in mind. One that you fully intended to see it through.

"Princess, where are you going?"

"Home. I'm going back to Driftmark to deliver news to my Lord father of the passing of my mother. It needs to be me."

"And if the Queen has need of you?"

You flippantly waved your hand over your shoulder. "Don't! The only time you need to have me involved, Your Grace, is when you need someone who can successfully face Aemond and Vhagar. When that happens, I want to be the one to end it." You turned back around in the hallway to stare at the Black Queen's Council, your nieces and nephews, the Queen Who Had Yet To Be. "He killed my mother. I want retribution for that act."

You'd rather she be the Queen Who Never Was. If anyone deserved the right of being Queen, it was Rhaenys.

"When it's time to kill Aemond, it should be me. Call upon me then. Until that point comes? You are on your own."

[authors note: I'm seriously considering adding a second part just for the fact that I have GOT to write Seasmoke claiming Addam LOL]

[laenaism]

Something that really bothered me about Corlys and Baela’s scene was the fact that Corlys ‘wanted’ to make Baela heir in the first place. Corlys has made it clear he does not value women, in the book and in the show. He was angry Rhaenys was passed over because he himself was also snubbed from that position of power. Corlys has shown no care for either of his children, he married both Laenor and Laena off with no care for their safety (you cannot tell me he didn’t have some hand in Laena marrying Daemon, at least in the show). All he truly cared about was his ambition which unfortunately is something that can be said for a lot of men in this universe. He loved Rhaenys, but Corlys definitely valued himself and his needs over everyone else in his life, all that matter was what he wanted. He only told Baela that he wanted to make her heir because that’s what Rhaenys asked of him the night of Laena’s funeral. And you know what happened? Corlys had the audacity to get mad at her for that! He felt guilty, so he decided he would honor Rhaenys and offer Baela the role of being heir. He didn’t actually want her to be so, he didn’t do it as an acknowledgement of her strength or leadership, he did it to honor Rhaenys because she died. He may not outright say it but he values men in a position of power way more than he ever would a woman. If Baela were to have accepted (which I believe she should have considering she has a better claim than Addam or Alyn) no doubt Corlys would have tried to worm his way out of it down the line. He was not a good grandfather to his granddaughters, he didn’t even know them, look at the way he spoke of Rhaena! She was Laena’s daughter and you don’t think she knew about ships or dragons? Okay deadbeat… I think Baela turning it down made sense, but I hate the reasoning she gave “I am made of blood and fire, Driftmark must pass to salt and sea,” like she is also made of ‘salt and sea’ 🥴 granted, she’s only a quarter Velaryon, but her mother was literally the only true parent she had before she died, why would she not care about carrying on that legacy? It doesn’t make sense considering Baela is all about family and loyalty. This isn’t hate on her, I love her, but I have to be honest, that line made me cringe lmao. That’s not Baela’s fault though, that’s Ryan Condal and Sara Hess’, fvck those writers! Regardless, Corlys should have offered it to Rhaena first in my opinion, she was going to be Lady of Driftmark with Lucerys, why shouldn’t she still be? Baela was going to be queen, the Lady of Driftmark would have been perfect for Rhaena if Corlys was just going to skip over Joffrey.

(Just a PSA) I’m not denying Baela and Rhaena are Targaryen, I know they are, but there’s no harm in acknowledging their Velaryon side as well. I’ve seen way too many people act like being a Velaryon is an insult and it’s very sus. As long as people aren’t being fvcking racist about it, I love when their mother’s Velaryon side is appreciated (though Laena was Targaryen as well which a lot of people somehow seem to forget considering the fact that Laena was prideful in being a Targaryen). The only reason I’d ever acknowledge them as Velaryon’s is because their mother was their main parental figure before Rhaenys, it was never about their skin color. The people who call them Velaryon’s because of their skin color, that’s when it’s racist and stupid, and unfortunately those people do exist.