#not about LIKING Rhaenyra or forgiving her and more to do with not having to carry that anymore.

[backjustforberena]

EVE BEST talking about PRINCESS RHAENYS TARGARYEN and her relationship with Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, in interviews after the airing of "The Red Dragon and the Gold".

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

i’m visualizing a fic where reader goes off to fight with their dragon and comes back to jace being furious that she would endanger herself and feelings are revealed…. can you make that happen? xx🙈

Request: Being dragonseed and getting close to jace during the trainings. Maybe she claimed silverwing or vermithor? She goes to battle while he is not there and jace is STRESSED

Request: Jace sneaking out to check on the girl he secretly loves

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Jacaerys took it upon himself to teach and train the dragonseeds, he didn’t think his loyalty to his betrothed would be challenged. Since the beginning of war, his bond with Baela became stronger and they got closer, but as he watched you atop Silverwing, hair in the wind and soaring over the water, he felt things he never felt before. 

Was it the blood of the dragon, although thin, that was calling to him? Or was it the sight of a woman on a large dragon? Jacaerys couldn’t tell. What he knew was that he never felt that way when Baela was riding Moondancer. 

‘’What do you mean, she went to the Riverlands?’’ he shouted at his mother, all manners forgotten.

Rhaenyra met his glare with a calm gaze. ‘’The Greens are marching up to Harrenhal. I sent her to meet their army before they reach the Riverlands.’’

‘’And what of Vhagar?’’ Jacaerys continued, his voice rising as he thought of the beast that had devoured his little brother and his dragon in a single bite. ‘’They know Daemon has taken Harrenhal. Undoubtedly, they brought their biggest dragon to fight him.’’

Rhaenyra hummed thoughtfully. ‘’It is a high possibility, but Silverwing is a large dragon, as you said yourself. Y/N will handle Vhagar if Aemond dares showing up.’’

‘’She is not ready to go to battle.’’ Jacaerys’s fists clenched at his sides, making up the worst scenarios in his mind. ‘’You sent her to her death!’’

‘’I needed to send a dragon. It was Silverwing or Vermithor.’’

‘’Why did you not send Vermithor?’’ 

‘’Because I didn’t want to reveal our biggest asset to the enemy,’’ Rhaenyra said, her brow furrowing as she noticed her son’s agitation. ‘’Why are you so agitated? The dragonseeds were your idea, Jace. We have to send them on the battlefield at some point.’’

The reasons the search for dragonseeds began was to get more dragons on their team, but also to not risk their own in battle by using those with blood 'thinner' than their own as fodder. It was selfish and evil, but losses are inevitable during a war. Better be a stranger than someone you love. 

But now, his plan had backfired.

‘’She’s not just a dragonseed!’’ Jacaerys snapped, his eyes blazing with anger and worry. ‘’She’s—’’ He stopped himself, realizing how much he had revealed in his fury and the implication of what he was about to say. 

Rhaenyra spoke his name softly, finally figuring the nature of her son’s worries, but he turned away, unable to look his mother in the eye. 

⁂

When night came, Jacaerys was unable to sleep, tossing and turning in his bed. All he could think about was you fighting against Vhagar…and losing. 

If you didn’t return from the Riverlands, he would never forgive himself for encouraging you to claim Silverwing. 

Finally, Jacaerys could not take it anymore. He sprung out of his bed, changed into his riding clothes and slipped on a cloak. Quietly, he sneaked out of his quarters and started heading towards the hills where he knew Vermax liked to sleep. Rhaenyra would be furious in the morning when finding out he went to the Riverlands without her approval, but he needed to go to you. 

‘’Lyka (quiet), Vermax,’’ Jacaerys said as he mounted the dragon, not wishing to alert anyone of his nightly adventure. The poor thing was whining and confused why his rider was waking him, but obeyed his command. 

They set out into the night, flying towards the northwest. The wind was cold, biting through Jacaerys' cloak, and the darkness was absolute with no moon to guide their way. The only sound was the rhythmic beating of Vermax's wings, cutting through the icy air.

After what felt like hours of flying blindly in the night, Vermax began to screech, a high-pitched, urgent sound that pierced the silence.

‘’Sagon gīda (be calm), Vermax,’’ Jacaerys commanded, trying to calm his dragon. But Vermax continued screeching, his eyes darting around as if he had seen something human eyes couldn’t. ‘’What is it, Vermax?’’ 

Vermax's screeches grew louder, more insistent, and Jacaerys felt a surge of unease. He strained his eyes, peering into the inky blackness, but saw nothing. He knew that dragons had senses far keener than humans, capable of detecting things long before they were visible.

‘’What do you see?” he muttered, more to himself than to Vermax, as he tried to understand his dragon’s distress.

Vermax couldn't understand the common tongue, but his behavior made it clear that something was wrong. He twisted his head, sniffing the air, and let out another screech, this one more urgent and filled with warning.

Jacaerys suddenly realized what it could mean: Vermax had detected the scent of another dragon. 

His heart pounded in his chest as he tightened his grip on the reins, scanning the dark skies for any sign of movement. The thought of encountering Vhagar in the pitch-black night sent a shiver down his spine. He tightened his grip on the handles, trying to steady both his dragon and himself.

Then, through the darkness, he saw a faint, silvery glimmer. Realization struck him hard. 

‘’Silverwing,’’ he breathed, understanding now what Vermax had sensed. 

Immediately, Jacaerys commanded Vermax to descend. He didn’t know where he was, but he knew that he had not reached the Riverlands yet. If Silverwing was down here, it could mean you were injured. Dragons were known to stay by their rider's side and guard them when they were vulnerable — or dying.

The prince's heart raced as they descended, his mind filled with worry. As soon as Vermax touched ground, he dismounted and scanned the area frantically, searching for you. 

Silverwing screeched loudly when Jacaerys got close, the sound stirring you from your sleep and snapping into alert. You reached for your dagger sheated at your hip, ready to stab whoever would try to get close.

‘’It’s me,’’ Jacaerys quickly said before you could touch him. 

‘’Prince Jacaerys?’’ you said with a frown. ‘’Has Her Grace sent you looking for me?’’

Jacaerys stayed silent. His mother did not care much for you — or any of the dragonseeds. 

The sight of blood on your hands sent his heart into a frenzy. ‘’Are you hurt? What has happened?’’ 

He kneeled beside you, and you let out a small hiss. ‘’I'm not on my deathbed, my Prince,’’ you reassured. ‘’I saw the Green's army marching to the Riverlands. They were definitely surprised to see a new dragon had been claimed by the Blacks. I engaged in battle, burning several of them, but their archers started shooting arrows at us. Silverwing dodged them the best she could, but I received one in my leg…’’ You glanced down where the arrow used to be, blood seeping through your clothes and down your leg. ‘’I know I should not have taken it out, but the pain was too much.’’ 

‘’It’s okay.’’ Jacaerys drew his sword to cut a piece of his cloak to make a bandage for your leg. ‘’All that matters is that you’re alive.’’ He began wrapping the piece of his cloak tightly around your wounded leg, but not so tight it would cause you more pain. ‘’I…I was worried about you.’’ 

You raised an eyebrow at the prince. ‘’Me?’’

He looked at you for a moment, his gaze flickering between your face and your wounded leg. ‘’Don't do that again. Going alone in a battle. What is Vhagar had been there?’’

‘’Why? Because I’m a woman?’’ 

‘’No.’’ Jacaerys shook his head. ‘’No, that’s not— When I didn’t see you at training this morning, I thought you were in the village helping your parents with the sheeps. But Baela informed me that you had been sent to the Riverlands at first light to meet the Greens and all I could think about was Rook’s Rest. What Vhagar did to Luke, and Rhaenys… Gods, if you were the next to fall, I would not handle it.’’

You huffed, not believing him. ‘’Aren’t I just a paw in your mother’s war? I’m not stupid, my Prince. Dragonseeds don’t matter to Her Grace. She just want the power of our dragons.’’ 

‘’I care. I care about you. I care so much about you that I could not sleep without knowing if you were okay. I would not have taken flight in the middle of the night if I didn’t care about you.’’

His words hung in the dark night, the air filled with his confession. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you processed his sudden confession. This conversation felt like forbidden territory. You were a shepherd’s daughter and he was a highborn prince, betrothed to a princess.

‘’You…you shouldn’t say things like that,’’ you finally murmured, averting your eyes from the intensity of his gaze. You tried to hide the fact that his words made you feel things you shouldn’t.

Jacaerys took a deep breath, then slowly reached out to tilt your chin, his fingertips gently tracing over your skin. ‘’I should, because it’s how I feel.’’ He leaned closer. His fingers grazed your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

‘’What of Baela?’’ you managed to ask, your heart beating wildly in your chest, torn between desire and loyalty.

He shook his head, his gaze locked with yours. ‘’I don’t feel strongly for Baela the way I do for you,’’ he confessed.

—

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[lady-ashfade]

Thread

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Younger!Rhaenyra Targaryen x Fem!Reader

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Ask by @loveislove4 : Hey I was wondering if I could request and rhaenyra fem!reader where rhaenyra and the reader have been together since they were young but through time the reader starts to feel used and unwanted by rhaenyra because of all the men she has put before and she try’s yo leave but rhaenyra seizes her and holds her captive

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 1.3k

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: yandere behavior, slight dark rhaenyra, being held captive, reader sadness, angst, DARK!THEMES, toxic!Rhaenyra, suggestive topics. Don’t come for me. I support my queen.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ fades notes: my first request since the new season

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

The side of Rhaenyra Targaryen is where you stood all your life, even if you had a choice or not.

Things began when you were chosen to be one of her ladies by coming from a great family. There was nervous but skip in your step when you got to kings landing for the first time, anxious to meet the year older princess. And you weren’t sure if you could be good enough for her but you had brought a lovely gift for her.

A hand stitched dragon.

You fiddled with the cloth behind your back as you bowed at her presence. The day was warm with a comfortable breeze and the garden was blooming with beauty. But you had never seen something more beautiful then the young white haired girl. 

The girls beside you stood in a line and you could tell everyone was just as nervous, but they had more social skills. The bugs in your stomach made you feel sickly, so staying a good distance was all you could do. Each girl swarmed around the princess and overflowed her with comments and ask her questions of all sorts. About her dragon and what it’s like to ride one, or how beautiful her dress was and the brightness of her hair.

Standing just beside the table you look curiously at the princess, she had a glint in her eyes unmatched to anyone else. A mischievous smile as she teased the others by answering their questions. You heard of Targaryen features and she had the best of the stories.

A blush swept over your cheeks when you realized you’re staring, so you turned to the cup in your hands and played with the metal and carvings. Glancing over to the stitch you made for her—embarrassment filled you at how every detail was off. You worked hard of course, but her napkins must be more fancy then it and without mistakes.

Frowning your brows you glare down at the cloth. You shouldn’t be here if you can’t even talk to the princess. How could you be friends if you can’t speak? Though the Targaryen princess noticed you too, the only girl away from her and took silence. She was intrigued by you since everyone alway wanted to talk to her and these girls threw themselves at her feet.

She dismissed the others and headed over to you, you didn’t notice at first. Her hands grabbed a small pie and your eyes finally met her but slowly reaching up to her eyes. The moment of realization was pleasant to watch, the wide eyed expression and a soft gasp and fumbling over yourself to bow at her.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” she teased, you swear in the second she would bite. You set down the cup on the table and wiped of the palms of your hands quickly, “Forgive me, your grace. I didn’t want to overwhelm you, I- um,” you lose your words as she bats her eyelashes at you and tilts her head like you are the most interesting thing. The gaze felt mischievous, like she was making fun of you or wanted you to break.

Watching her eyes drift down to the corners of the table you frowned and rushed to grab the stupid gift. You laugh nervousness and picked at the sticked out threads, “Tell me, is the apple pie good?” You choked over your dried throat, maybe she would talk about anything else. Your wishes aren’t granted, her hand extends out and flicks her eyes to the stitch.

Heavily you handed over the cloth for her judgement you felt more sick then before. Shifting from foot to foot as her eyes trailed over the gift, and you couldn’t wait to see if the gods would strike you down. “You made this?” you nodded to the question.

“Sincerest apologies, it was my first attempt at making a dragon—”

“I shall hang it up on my wall,” she flashed a smile and threw herself at you and tugged you close to her side, “I shall show you Syrax, she is perfect to paint or stitch.”

As years go by the attraction and affection of Rhaenyra grow stronger. She is the only person who demands your attention and hates when it’s on someone else. And romantic feelings come fast, but only when she is a bit older do you both share your first kiss. You are her main priority. The world is made to make you smile and she will do anything to have you stay by her side.

At first it was heavenly, so much passion and love. She watches you like a hawk to make sure no one takes you, gifts you jewelry to claim you in plan sight. She clings to your side after the passing of her mother and most night she ends up in your arms. Of course things could never go smoothly forever as her ego grew larger, she played with her protector and never spent time with you anymore. Unless she needs to be held.

“Don’t act like this,” she groaned as rubbed her temple at your outburst, her chamber filled with yelling and cries from you. You scuffed and crossed your arms, “Act reasonable? I am tired of being treated like a toy unworthy of respect and love, only to call on at night for comfort or affection.” The pointed glare you gave made her eyes roll.

Shaking her head, she smiles like you are crazy, like you aren’t even worth hearing. “I am the heir to the throne, what do you want me to do? Drop all my duties and cater to your needs?” thats the irony because you do that just for her, you have refused countless proposals to stay by her side.

But that had stopped a few weeks ago.

“You never have to,” the anger continued to make you tear up in frustration and grabbed a letter from the table and throw it to her direction. She gave a puzzled look at you before opening the letter to read what was inside. And you hate to admit— you felt satisfied at the shocked and scared look in her eyes.

“Your father granted us permission, seeing as I was a loyal lady for you for years. My things are already being packed,” you calm down your voice and straighten your dress to take a few breaths. “Let me never be a burden again like you think of me. Nor, someone who you use like a pawn.” glory was a amazing feeling as you expressed your feelings, and the feeling of being freed from the pain she caused.

The door was right there, but she blocked the way with a bitter expression you never seen. You stopped and tightened your jaw to seem unaffected by her tempts. “You think you can leave after everything. No matter what you think,” she stepped forward and you tried to back up but she grabbed ahold of your wrist. “You are mine, and I love you.” trying to pull away from her got her more upset.

“I will not let you leave me.” You broke free from her grasp only for her shout for her guards and they came flooding in at her command. The skin in your wrist pulsed in pain. “She is to be taken to her room and locked in, and not to be let out by any means.” she demanded to the men. The guards look at each other wandering if the order is right to do.

“I am the heir,” she roared and the noise made all ears ring, so they did their job and grab you by the arms as you struggle against them.

“You can’t do this, Rhaenyra. Stop this at once.” your pleads fall death to her ears as she gave a victorious smirk as you are dragging into the hall.

There was no escaping Rhaenyra Targaryen. Not when she controlled the thread of your life.

[seduzist]

alicent hightower x rhaenyra’s daughter! reader

warnings: pseudo-incest, age gap (like she’s literally old enough to be reader’s mother), kinda perv! alicent i guess? part two is here.

thinking abt alicent w/ rhaenyra’s daughter! reader, as her only daughter, you were her very much protected and loved child, she was nothing but very defensive over you, as lovingly as a mother can be. but when you reaches the maturity, the queen starts to see you with a different perspective, you weren’t just the spoiled little protected daughter of her enemy, but a pretty young lady who caught her attention and thoughts. she loved how much you looked like rhaenyra in looks but was much more innocent and quiet than she was at your age, she loves to see the smile forming on your pretty lips when she tells you that you were so alike your mother when she was younger but even more gorgeous, she loves to watch your big eyes eying her when you think she wasn’t looking and loves to know that rhaenyra is fully aware of the queen’s exchange of looks with her daughter.

she has this growing feeling between her legs when she saw you bite your lip, the dreams she have at night about taking your purity with her fingers, taking of your dress and expose you to her wishes, lay you down with your legs wide open, presenting yourself to your queen, then ruining you for any man, for any marriage, having you begging and crying for her to do the most profanities and unholiness things with your soft body, to take you in ways only a husband could, to make you hers, property of the queen and no one else, she thinks about stick her nails on your smooth milky thighs and uses her mouth to make you scream for forgiveness from your grace… oh how she desires you to herself. corrupting your immaculate presence of a princess and turn you in nothing more than a desperate adorable mess for her eyes only.

but it’s unnatural, of course, she tells herself that all of this it’s just purely desire of her heart to hit rhaenyra where would hurts the most, and that the gods would never be able to forgive her for such thing… that doesn’t stop her for pleasing herself at these thoughts when her only company in her dark room is the shallow light of the moon, though.

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere Daemon/Rhaenyra Targaryen w/Rhaenyra's Twin!Sister Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)

❝ — 🐉 lady l: this is weirdly long but I needed to get it out of my head! This is based on a concept they sent me a while ago. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: incest, slight nsfw, obsessive and possessive behavior, jealousy, mention of pregnancy.

❝🐉pairing: yandere!daemyra x rhaenyra's twin sister!reader.

You were Rhaenyra's twin, born a few minutes after her, and because of that, she always had a strong instinct to protect you, to take care of you and she always does. All your life, it was you and Rhaenyra against the world. And this arrangement always left you satisfied, you loved your sister and she loved you fervently in return.

Rhaenyra has always been very persuasive and for as long as you can remember she would convince you of anything; breaking rules, running away, stealing cake from the kitchen and getting into trouble. She didn't care, she valued you deeply and wanted to spend all her time with you.

Aemma and Viserys sometimes went crazy with the two of you being so naughty, but in the end, they always joined you. Aemma tried to be a little tougher with you both, but she always gave in eventually. Viserys didn't even try.

Rhaenyra was very possessive too, because you were her twin sister, she always felt entitled and that you belonged to her. After all, you shared the same womb and were born together, you belonged to her, in a way.

She was always quite bold and direct, and was often reprimanded for it. Rhaenyra knew she loved you more than she should have, but you were Targaryens, according to the traditions of your house and family, there was nothing wrong with her being in love with you. It was just the Targaryen way.

The only problem was that you were a woman. Not for her, that would never be a problem, but for others it would. She couldn't marry you and have you officially and it tore her apart inside.

That didn't mean she hid what she felt from you, because once she knew what she felt, Rhaenyra went to your room, which was next to hers, and confessed to you. It was embarrassing and a little awkward, but she was being sincere and it touched you.

You felt the same way about her too and it was eating you alive not being able to tell her, but she took the first step and you felt grateful. You didn't have any kind of experience, but you knew some things. The first kiss was sloppy and a little awkward, but it was understandable given the lack of experience between the two of you, but it was a precious moment,

You just kissed and hugged for a while, not knowing how to proceed. Until Daemon returns to King's Landing after winning the war in the Stepstones. You always liked your uncle, even though he caused a lot of trouble, he entertained you. And the feeling was mutual.

Daemon knew there was something between you and Rhaenyra, he very quickly noticed the looks and subtle touches you exchanged. It wasn't something platonic, he knew that and he wanted to know more.

During the night of Daemon's return, you had gone to Rhaenyra's room, as you always did, and there you found, along with her, some clothes left by your uncle and a note. Although your mind was full of doubts, you changed and followed your sister, who seemed excited for some reason.

Meeting up with Daemon, you explored a bit of King's Landing and before you knew it, you were in a brothel. You observed your surroundings with curiosity and interest, men and women doing intimate things.

When Daemon kissed Rhaenyra, you felt mixed feelings; surprise and jealousy being the biggest one. You would maybe scream at him when he kissed you, his experienced and strong lips yours, leaving you weak. You felt a desire rise within you.

His touches were strong and good, he knew what he was doing and you felt numb as he explored your body with his hands. Rhaenyra watched everything curiously. But something had changed inside him, as Daemon decided to stop touching you and left you and Rhaenyra alone in the brothel. You wanted to kill him here.

You and Rhaenyra returned to the Red Keep, sneaking out so you wouldn't be found and you both knew you wouldn't be able to sleep after witnessing what you saw. So, it was that night that you went further and had sex for the first time.

It wasn't something shy, but rather intimate. You had no experience, but it was good. Rhaenyra touched your body with care and her tongue loved your most sensitive parts, she quickly learned how to pleasure you. You reciprocated the pleasure as best you could, with your face buried between her legs, eliciting sighs and moans from her.

The following days were tortuous. Viserys had found out about your escapade and Daemon had been exiled and Rhaenyra was forced to marry Laenor. You would also have to get married, but your husband had not yet been chosen. Your sister's wedding was a painful time for you and her, the two of you constantly exchanging glances and Daemon had returned to the wedding, widowed and with your father's very reluctant permission, you and Daemon had gotten married.

After the wedding, you were forced to separate from Rhaenyra and you lived in Pentos with Daemon. You had learned to love your husband and he loved you, so it wasn't bad. Your heart ached to be away from your twin sister, but you were happy with your husband.

Daemon wasn't that bad, at least to you. He was loyal and treated you with kindness and respect, loving every part of you and comforting you when you were in pain. His kisses were more demanding and dominant, just like sex. Although very possessive and sometimes annoying, Daemon took care of you the best way he could.

Daemon had a lot of experience and knew how to please you, his fingers dipped between your legs and his mouth on your breasts or when he was buried in your heat he made you scream with pleasure.

You and Rhaenyra exchanged letters and a few years passed and children were born. You had two daughters with Daemon, twins, and Rhaenyra had had three sons. You met again at your cousin Laena's funeral, and a weight was lifted from your shoulders when she pulled you into a hug and held you, not wanting to let you go.

The three of you found yourself in a part away from all the whining and all the longing was broken. Words were exchanged, mainly between Daemon and Rhaenyra and when there was nothing more to be said, the clothes were removed and you made love on the floor, the longing prolonging the reunion.

Unbeknownst to you, while you were sleeping, Rhaenyra and Daemon met and actually talked. They knew they both loved you deeply and wanted you and were willing to cooperate and the best way was for you to get married in a traditional valyrian ceremony. With the plans made, Laenor was "eliminated".

You were shocked and saddened by your cousin's death, but you felt relieved because it now meant that Rhaenyra would be free.

During one afternoon, you, Daemon and Rhaenyra were married in a traditional valyrian ceremony, where you could be officially married. You became Rhaenyra's wife and she became yours and Daemon's. Finally you were complete and when the kiss was given, sealing the union, you knew there was more to this marriage.

The wedding with your uncle and sister would prove to be one of your fondest memories after the tragedy that followed over the next few years.

But for now, you would enjoy your possessive and protective husband and wife as much as you could, because only the gods know it won't be for long.

[madamabelladonna]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝: House Dayne of Starfall, bearing the sigil of a white falling star and a sword on a field of lavender. Though sparse in men and coin, House Dayne is renowned as one of the oldest in Westeros. Sworn to House Martell, under the decree of their liege lord, Lord Julius Dayne dispatched the Sword of the Morning, his second son, Ser Merek Dayne, along with his only daughter, to King’s Landing as emissaries of Dorne. Little did they know, the twinkle of a star could ignite the passions of men, dragons, and wolves alike. 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Romance, Angst, Love Triangle, Fantasy, Historical Fiction, Drama, Coming-of-Age, Explicit Content, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Violence, Gore, War, Reader eating cheerios with Luke and Helaena while Jace, Cregan, and Aemond duke it out 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Cregan Stark x Reader

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈: 𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞 Young Lady Dayne never truly grasped what it meant to be a high-born lady; her mother and father had sheltered her from the vipers lurking in the shadows. Yet, as fate would have it, their protection could only shield her for so long before she was cast into a den brimming with treachery. Green or Black? The choice is hers, but she finds herself drawn to the hue of violet…

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 Young Lady Dayne, finds herself adjusting to her new life at the capital. A gift from Starfall, a steed with a mane like freshly fallen snow. As she immerses herself in the pages of her books, a small figure unexpectedly scampers into her chamber—a boy lost in the game of hide and seek. She finds herself teaching the boy how to read. Only to be seated in the company of Princess Rhaenyra and her small family, sharing a quiet tea.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈𝐈: 𝐀𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐀𝐟𝐚𝐫 Young Lady Dayne, awaiting Jacaerys' lesson's end, enjoys tea with Princess Rhaenyra, who grants her access to the Royal Library due to her rare gifts. As she reads beneath the heart tree, a prince in green watches her, sparking jealousy within the eldest son of Rhaenyra. With Jacaerys' eighth name day nearing, their growing relationship seems to be all the court can talk about.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐕: 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐖𝐡𝐬𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 Young Lady Dayne captivated the feast held by King Viserys in honor of his grandson, her presence and dance stirring much interest among the court. The murmurs of a possible union between the Seven Kingdoms and The Principality of Dorne swirled in the air, though beneath the revelry, rumors threatened to unravel such hopes.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕: 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧 𝐈𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 Young Lady Dayne knew survival in the Red Keep required more than caution—it demanded influence. After keeping her distance from Jacaerys, she finally accepted his apology, truly forgiving him. But as he left, she realized it might be long before she saw him again. In his place, a prince in green awaited.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦 Young Lady Dayne watched the Red Keep, no longer as crimson as it once had been, now draped in the creeping embrace of ivy and moss. It looked more like an overgrown garden than a fortress of kings. Only Aemond, with his hard gaze and sharper tongue, stirred no sympathy. But Helaena—sweet Helaena—her heart ached for the gentle princess. Such a delicate flower, doomed to marry the vile Aegon. How cruel the gods could be.

[More in pending...]

This is my first post so I hope you like it, personally, House Dayne is my favorite and I hope it gets more recognition in the next book.

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[lis-likes-fics]

Matters of Perfection

Pairings: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Laenor Velaryon (Platonic) Word Count: 2.5k words Prompt: Shower/Bath Sex Warnings: NSFW, smut, reference to homosexuality as an illness, lesbian sex, fingering, groping, swearing, bath sex, consensual adultery, useless lesbians... A/N: This is technically a second part to Matters of Propriety, but can be read alone. I hope you enjoy, thank you!

It has become a habit among the two of you to find as much alone time together as possible. It gets difficult—Rhaenyra has her abundance of responsibilities, you have yours. She has her husband, the responsibilities of the realm as she prepares for the crown. You have loads and loads of work around the castle that demands your attention.

But on quiet evenings like this, it is nice to detach from it all with a simple order.

“That is quite alright. I only need her tonight,” Rhaenyra says as a crowd of maids come into her chambers with everything ready for her bath. You stand at the head of them, arms clasped in front of you as you await her command. You stifle your grin, giving a light curtsey before turning to the others with a small nod.

They give their own curtsies before leaving all the supplies stacked in their arms behind, leaving you and Rhaenyra alone in her chambers as steam rises from the bath water.

“Finally,” she breathes. “I spend all day surrounded by guards and servants. I do not need to spend my bath with them, too.”

Her smile makes your heart flutter. You walk toward her, standing too close before turning to walk behind her and begin to undo the strings along the back of her dress.

“I hope I am exempt from those feelings, my princess.”

She chuckles lightly, her head bowing. She lifts a hand to her chest, pulling the dress close in an attempt to give you more room to unlace. They always tie it so tightly, sometimes she feels as though she cannot breathe.

“You certainly are, my dear,” she replies gently.

You smile to yourself. You have gotten quite lucky—to be cursed with an affliction such as your own, only to have it bring you a treasure as glorious as Rhaenyra. One could forgive the gods for such a joke, as it seems to be suiting you quite well.

“That is a relief.”

She hums, taking a deep breath when the corset is loose enough for her to do so. You pull it off of her, helping to remove it entirely so you can move on to her undergarments.

“You needn't worry about such things, darling.” She turns, lifting a crooked finger to your chin to tilt it up lightly. “You are a company I shall always desire.”

Your cheeks fill with heat, and you glance down from her gaze to ease the feelings writhing within you. “That is also a relief,” you nearly whisper.

You raise your hands to her chemise, unlacing the loose strings of it and letting it fall from her body in a pool of white.

You are mesmerized instantly by the sight of her, as you always are. She is so beautiful, a true wonder. She watches you unashamed as you take her in.

“You are so beautiful, my princess,” you breathe, finding her gaze slowly.

She smiles that crooked smile that makes you feel dizzy. “Thank you, sweet girl.”

You swallow thickly, moving to your knees as you begin to undo more lacings around her upper thighs.

When she is free of clothing, you help her step into the bath water. She sinks down with a contented sigh, a sparse moan slipping with it.

“I truly do not understand how you could enjoy water this hot, if not for dragon's blood in your veins,” you smile, shaking your head gently at her. She leans her head back against the lip of the tub, her eyes shut and her breath deep.

“It is not all dragon's blood,” she says. She lolls her head to the side to see you. “I just like the water hot.”

Her tone is deeper, lazier. It is not nearly as formal as it usually is around everyone else. Here, with you and no one else, it is hushed and gentle and so indescribably smooth. Her voice has the consistency of honey, this thick and sticky kind of feeling that oozes when she speaks. You melt in it gladly.

You lean on the edge of the tub, kneeling down so you are sat next to her with your head resting on your arms. You feel almost as content as her—you would likely feel more content if you could join her in her bath—but of course, you could not. Another night perhaps.

“Do you feel good, my princess?” Your voice is quiet, trying to reach a tone as gentle and as soothing as hers.

She reaches a damp hand up and traces a line down your cheek. “No one is around. You can call me by my name, lovely.”

You hum. “I know. I simply enjoy calling you my princess.”

She chuckles. “And I simply enjoy hearing you call me your Nyra.”

You let your eyes flutter beneath her touch. “If that is what my princess wants, then that is what she shall get.”

Rhaenyra rolls her eyes, and you chuckle. She stares at you a moment longer before sitting up just enough to lean into you. You meet her halfway in a gentle kiss and genuinely feel yourself becoming lighter.

You lift a hand to cup her cheek, smiling against her lips. The water chimes as she lifts her own hand from it to tuck beneath your chin. “Will you not join me?” she murmurs.

You sigh lightly, a mix of a breath and a chuckle. “I cannot.”

“And why is that?” She nips at your bottom lip.

“Would it not look suspicious? If I come out of your room after your bath also wet and smelling of you?” You raise a brow, though your lips are quirked.

“Not necessarily.”

“Nyra,” you laugh lightly.

The sound of the chamber doors being pulled open startles the both of you so deeply, that you feel as though your heart were about to jump out of your chest and your bones were going to shatter in your limbs.

You pull away from her immediately, grabbing a sponge instinctively to pretend you are actually performing your duty, rather than fraternizing with the Princess of Westeros.

You turn to see who has caused the intrusion, only to find Prince Laenor. Rhaenyra rolls her eyes with a scoff, her posture—which had been scared to a stiff and uncomfortable position—slumping back into the scorching water.

“Of course it is you.” She mutters with no real malice.

Laenor’s mischievous smile spreads across his face and makes your skin hot as you turn away. Laenor is well aware of your relationship with Rhaenyra—he has walked in on the pair of you on more than one occasion, as he has not taken up the habit of knocking. Not that he technically has to; he is the prince and this is his spouse.

“My apologies, dear wife,” he laughs. “Am I not welcome?”

“Not exactly in this moment, Laenor. Would you mind? I am trying to have a bath.”

His joy heightens to an absurd degree, and he nods before dipping into a dramatic bow. “Of course, your Royal Highness.” He turns his teasing gaze to you. “Make certain you take very good care of her. She gets cranky otherwise.”

You cannot bring yourself to look at him, though Rhaenyra snorts at his joke before shooing him away.

“Yes, my prince,” you clear your throat, trying to offer a smile. He has always been very kind and very accepting of you—learning of his similar affliction to your own has helped you to be more comfortable around him—but he is still a prince and you are still trying to get used to people knowing. Nonetheless.

“Leave, Laenor,” she insists, though she betrays her tone with a light laugh.

He holds his hands up, moving backward and out of the doors once more to leave the two of you alone. Rhaenyra shakes her head, leaning back into the tub. “Do not let him make you uncomfortable. He only means good.”

“I know. I am simply not used to…being exposed.” You let out a breath of a chuckle, soaking the sponge in the bath water and taking her arm gently as you begin to wash her skin.

“I understand, my darling.” She takes the arm washing hers and pulls you forward enough for another kiss. “But you do not have to worry about exposure with us. We are the least of your worries. I promise you.”

You smile and nod gently. “I know.”

You soak the sponge once more and rub at her shoulder, tilting her chin back to move over her chest. You move slowly and carefully, taking your time as you move lower. She watches you as you dip down from her collarbone, over her breast before you brush over her nipple.

Her breath hitches so slightly. You mirror her as you drag the sponge farther down, to the bottom of her ribs, to her belly, to the dip of her leg and hip. You loose the sponge from between your fingers and press your palm to her lower belly.

Your fingers tease as they brush lower until they're pressing lightly against her pearl through the water. Her sigh cuts off again, and she purses her lips. You continue to tease her with the tips of your fingers before finally ending her torment with a finger spreading through her folds and pushing inside of her.

She moans lightly, tilting her head back as her lips part. You pump it slowly, changing your angle until you hear the soft way she whines when you brush up against the spot she loves.

“Fuck, don't stop,” she sighs. Her eyes close and her brows pull together in concentration.

You watch her face in silent awe and wonder. As you add a second finger inside of her, she rocks her hips into your hand and spreads her legs wider. Her head tips back over the wall of the tub.

She looks so beautiful like this, as droplets of steaming water slip sensually over her shoulders, down the valley of her breasts, disappearing into the water below.

You raise one hand to cup her cheek, leaning in slowly to place a kiss to her lips. You had intended for it to be a brief, gentle thing. All too quickly did it rise to an insatiable level of desire. She sighs against you as you embrace her, tilting her head and lifting her hand to come to the side of your neck.

You thrusts your fingers deeper inside of her, picking up your pace until she is pulling from your lips to press her forehead to yours. “Fuck,” she huffs. “Right there, darling.”

The water sloshes with your movements. You curl your fingers and follow every rock of her hips, pressing your mouth to the crook of her neck and onto her shoulder. “Is this good?” you breathe, eager for her reassurances through breathy little moans.

“Yes,” she nods quickly, biting her bottom lip as you nibble on her damp skin. “Perfect.”

Her pussy tightens around your fingers, gripping like a vice as she loses herself in the pleasure. You watch her as the pleasure rises, watch her hips become more and more enthusiastic as she aches for your touch. You keep on as she grips your forearm, as her moans rise in pitch. You are both quite glad for the thick walls of the castle as you continue to fuck her on your fingers.

You want to see her cum. You want to see her fall apart until she can hardly keep her breath calm. You want to know that you have pleased her, made her feel all the pleasure she deserves. You want to worship her.

As you press your fingers to her aching pearl, she nearly whines. She becomes more and more eager by the second, keening into your hand and attempting to kiss your pretty face with sloppy lips.

“Relax, my princess,” you whisper against her temple, keeping your steady, quick pace inside of her as you continue to rub circles over her sensitivity. “I've got you. I only want you to feel good, Nyra.”

Your coos settle in her bones, makes the tension rise in her belly as an unmistakable knot tightens and tightens until she is filling her lungs with air, teetering on the edge of her release.

“Gods,” she gasps. “Don't stop. Please.”

You lean into the crook of her neck to press more kisses into her delicate skin. She gasps and sighs in your ear, and you listen to each sound with more appreciation than you thought possible.

“Rhaenyra,” you breathe. “Cum for me. Please, cum on my fingers, Nyra.” You sound almost as desperate as her, as wanting.

You watch the pleasure snap, her back arching up as her breasts peek out over the water. Her mouth parts as her head tilts back against the lip of the tub in her pleasure. You moan with her, feeling as though you are shaking this pleasure and riding out a high you never want her to forget.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasps, her hips grinding forward into your hand as you continue to pump your fingers slowly in and out of her, circling her clit and kissing her shoulder.

“So beautiful. So pretty, my Nyra,” you whisper into her skin. “Fuck, my princess, you are so perfect.”

She slowly recovers from her high, her hazy eyes coming into focus as a smile begins to curl her pretty lips. You pull your fingers out of her, massaging her side and coming up slowly to cup her breast. You knead at it with care, flicking her nipple with gentle fingers.

“If I am perfect,” she breathes, “then what does that make you, dove?”

You kiss her cheek, letting your nose rub along her jaw. “Lack-lustre.”

She hums. “My darling, you are anything but.” Her hand comes to your jaw again, tilting your chin up to kiss you deeply and slowly.

You sigh against her lips, letting her invade your mind and render your senses useless of anything but her.

She pulls back to speak gently. “Let me take care of you, lovely. Come here.”

You shake your head gently, retrieving the sponge. “I'm alright.”

“Come now. I can't just leave you be.” Her eyes are shining in earnest and content.

You shake your head once more, smiling to ease any doubts. “Really, I'm fine. All I need to feel good is you.”

She stares at you, examining every feature of your face before relenting with a gentle sigh. As you begin washing her once more, she sits back to let you. “I do wish you could stay with me tonight.”

You glance at her with a smile. “As do I, my princess.” You ease her forward to wash her back, watching her lashes flutter. “If you wish it, I could come to you while the castle sleeps.”

Rhaenyra smiles at the thought. The idea of being able to hold you tonight with no one bold enough to disturb her slumber—except perhaps her husband��sounds wonderfully soothing.

“Yes,” she says. “That would be perfect.”

You smile. Perfect.

Ice and Fire taglist: @divinearchangel @alexxavicry @katsukis1wife @kmc1989 @the-nerdy-goddess @urmomsgirlfriend1 @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @lover-of-books-and-tea @avalyaaa @rozendiors @seabasscevans @hc-geralt-23 Tag yourself here...

[solkara]

❛ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐃 𝐄𝐘𝐄 , alicent hightower and rhaenyra targaryen ❜

⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , being blind was a blessing and a curse that you had to navigate from a young age but you were lucky to have two friend's willing to do anything for you

⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , alicent hightower x fem! blind! reader x rhaenyra targaryen

⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , this was actually meant to be a one and done this but I think I'm gonna make it a two part so I can write it to the best of my ability without being rushed !!

house of the dragon masterlist , next part

⌗ you weren't always blind. you had your sight till you were age ten. when an assassination attempt gone wrong left you blinded. and since that day people only looked at you for what you had lost. not for what you had left. all they seven kingdoms saw a poor fragile high born girl with no sight.

⌗ but your best friends rhaenyra and alicent didn't. they saw you as more than your blindness. and dare you say they were the reason you had gotten though some of the darkest moments in your life. going out of their way to include you in everything they did.

⌗ walking hand and hand with you through the castle. reading your favourite stories. telling you the lastest court gossip. and showering you with gifts when your spirits were low. the greatest gift they ever gave you besides their friendship was your cane.

⌗ made of snow-white wood with a silver ornament on top of your house crest. over time you learn how to see without actually seeing. by tapping or banging your cane you would listen to the vibrations and gauge how near or far everything in the room was. and over time you got use to the darkness. finding a strange comfort in it.

⌗ life was good. you had everything you needed. but there was one thing that gnawed at you. something you craved that you knew you would never get. marriage. as being blind made you damaged goods and their for unwedable. meaning you would never have a family of your own.

⌗ your best friends noticing your sadness asked you what was wrong. as they watched you break down into tears and sniffles. the two held you as your tears fell. and once you were calm enough they began soothing you insecurities. "one day the seven shall grant you your wish" "you will make an amazing mother"

⌗ but deep down the two knew that they were far too in love with you to allow you to be wed off to a man. that most definitely did not deserve you. not like they did. and gradually over time their beautiful friendship bloomed into a beautiful romance.

⌗ with soft touches and gentle kisses. late night conversations about the future ahead of them. but all that came crashing down when alicent married viserys. rhaenyra was incensed and you were confused. how could this have happened? while you tried to hear alicent out the targaryen wouldn't listen to a word of it. dragging you away so you wouldn't have to either.

⌗ and so began the tug of war over you. with neither the hightower and targaryen willing to give up. though your time was mostly monopolised by rhaenyra. with the white-haired girl rarely ever leaving your side. spending countless nights in your room. but alicent still managed to find ways to see you. and though you still couldn't forgive her fully for betraying your trust. you did try your best to be there for her.

⌗ you were there when she gave birth to all her children. a comforting hand as she screamed and writhed in pain. stroking her hair and kissing her hand. whispering words of comfort in an attempt to soothe the girl who you still had so much love for. but that became so much more difficult once rhaenyra started having children.

⌗ that was when alicent's resentment how come she was being punished for doing her duty. while rhaenyra could bear bastard children and go unpunished. she got everything. the love of her father. the title of heir. you. oh how she hated how she had gotten you. how she manipulated you into staying by her side with her and her bastard children.

⌗ the hightower couldn't understand how you could still stand beside her. after she willingly betrayed you for another man and bore his children. unlike alicent who never wanted to have viserys children but had to out of duty. though she never really saw her children as viserys. as in her mind they were yours and hers.

⌗ and she was tired of you being taken away from her. so tonight she was going to do something about him. so under the cover of night she went to see you. slipping into your room she watched as you lay peacefully in bed. you looked so peaceful in nothing but a white silk nightgown. approaching the bed alicent slipped under the covers with you.

⌗ her hands immediately began exploring the body she had been denied for so long. closing her eyes alicent couldn't help but bury her nose in your hair. inhaling that comforting scent that seamlessly brought her comfort. wishing for nothing more than to drown in it. but as the hightower allowed herself to get lost in the touch smell and taste of you against her lips and body she hadn't noticed that you had started to stir in you sleep. "nyra?" you said in a hushed mumble.

⌗ alicent said nothing in response. as she silently lulled you back to sleep. seething that you called out of rhaenyra and not her. as the auburn continued to touch and kiss you as you slept she failed to realise that another figure had entered the room. and had left just as quickly. but all alicent saw was a sliver of white hair.

⌗ and by the time the next morning had came alicent was still laying next to you. but left before you woke up. as she walked back to her room with a pep in her step she bumped into the last person she wanted to see rhaenyra who smirked at her like she had been blessed by the gods. and a few moments later she found out why. as the good mood alicent hightower came crashing down.

⌗ you were leaving with rhaenyra and her family to dragonstone. and there was nothing she could do about it. alicent cried for hours after hearing the news. even going as far as to get on her hands and knees in front of you in an attempt to get you to stay. but to no avail. as once again rhaenyra had gotten what she wanted.

anon , Could I request (if it's alright with you ofc ) Blind Reader X Rhaenyra and Alicent (or one of them ) OR Visenya and Rhaenys . Readers blindness is due to R saving them ? Now, reader is a strategist or hand on the council ? If the idea is okay with you ofc , anything you wish 🙂

[happilyhertale]

Take my breath away – Modern Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You are spending the holidays with your boyfriend Daemon's family. Board games are on the programme for tonight. Daemon was reserved in his joy, but he behaves after you promise him a night full of pleasure.

Pairing: Modern Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut, Fingering

Author’s note:

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1.2 k

Other stories of mine

12 Days of Smuffmas

12 Days of Smuff

The Targaryen estate is a sprawling mansion, tucked away in the snowy hills, lit with soft golden lights that flickered like dragonfire in the frosty air. Inside, the warmth of the fireplace and the scent of mulled wine fill the grand hall, where the family has gathered for Christmas Eve.

Daemon sits slouched on the leather couch, his silver hair catching the firelight as he swirls a goblet of mulled wine lazily in his hand. He doesn‘t need to say it aloud—he hates this.

The cheery ambiance, the laughter of children, and the endless board games. He would much rather be elsewhere, preferably with you. Alone.

“Why do we have to do this every year?” he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear as you sit beside him, your hand resting lightly on his knee. “A room full of insufferable people and their noisy brats…”

You shoot him a warning look, but the corner of your lips betrays a smile. “It’s Christmas, Daemon. Family time.”

Daemon snorts, taking a sip of his wine, his free hand creeping up your thigh. “I can think of better ways to spend my time, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough against your ear as he leans into you. “Ways that involve far fewer clothes and far more... enthusiasm.”

You elbow him lightly, cheeks heating. “Daemon, behave.”

His grin is wicked as he leans back, feigning innocence when Viserys’s voice booms from across the room.

Daemon rolls his eyes theatrically, but your hand on his knee tighten, and you give him a sweet smile that promised things—delicious, thrilling things—later tonight if he played along. With a dramatic sigh, he sets down his wine and picks up the dice.

“Daemon, it’s your turn! Don’t make us wait all night!” Viserys, the self-appointed Christmas game master, waves the dice in Daemon’s direction.

Beside him, Alicent adjustes the garland draped over the mantle, giving her husband a patient smile while trying to ignore her youngest, Aemond, who was sulking about having lost the last round of Pictionary.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Rhaenyra, seated across from you, chuckles softly, her children giggling at their uncle’s antics. “Always the life of the party, aren’t you, Uncle Daemon?” she teases, her tone light but her eyes sharp.

All the while, Daemon leans into you, his lips brushing your ear every so often with whispers that makes your cheeks burn.

Daemon ignores her, rolling the dice with as much enthusiasm as a man filling out his taxes…

The game continues, a mix of competitiveness, laughter, and the occasional bickering between Viserys’s kids and Rhaenyra’s brood.

“You’re wearing far too much tonight,” he murmurs during a heated round of charades, his fingers idly tracing circles on your thigh. “When we get back to our room, I’ll—”

But he is interrupted because Jace throws something at Aegon and Rhaenyra and Alicent are trying to restore calm.

Daemon sighs and leans back, drinking his mulled wine and watching the little children shouting at each other. You giggle softly, sensing his annoyance, and lean in to kiss his cheek.

By the time the game draws to a close and Alicent announces dessert in the dining room, Daemon was thoroughly bored and more than a little tipsy. His arm drapes possessively over your shoulders as the family moves toward the dining room, and he bends down to murmur in your ear one final time.

“You owe me for this,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. “I want you. Tonight. And I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

You look up at him, your own mischievous smile spreading. “That was the deal, wasn’t it?”

For the first time that evening, Daemon’s smirk softens into something warmer, though his eyes still burn with their usual intensity.

But before you can follow the rest of the family into the dining room, Daemon takes your hand. You gasp slightly as he pulls you along.

“What are you doing?” you whisper before he pulls you into the bathroom. He doesn't answer, but pushes you against the wall after closing the door.

He kisses you, letting his tongue slide into your mouth while his hand slides to your neck and grabs you lightly. You gasp slightly and look up at him as he breaks the kiss.

“A little taste of tonight,” he murmurs.

“But... Daemon... your family...“, you whisper, but gasp again when you feel his other hand slides up your inner thigh and grasps it.

”Then you have to be quiet,” he murmurs, nibbling gently on your jaw, his hand on your neck tightening slightly.

You can't answer. You whimper as his fingers press against your panties. He feels the damp fabric and gently rubs your nerve bundle. He kisses your cheek and you feel his warm breath. His fingers rub faster and you moan softly.

“Ssh... the others are outside,” he whispers teasingly, but pushes your panties aside. Slowly he smears the wetness along your folds and you bite your lip. You look at him, breathing heavily. You want to lean towards him, want to kiss him, but his hand on your neck squeezes harder, pushing you back against the wall and making you feel his dominance.

His thumb starts rubbing your clit while his fingers tease the rough spot inside you. He fingers you fast and roughly, and your pussy doesn't stop clenching around his fingers. You grind against his hand, your hands on his arms as you try to hold on to something in desperation.

You whimper again, but he just grins cheekily as he slides his fingers into your pussy. Immediately, he feels your walls clench around his fingers. You moan, and then Daemon grants your wish – his lips meet yours as he swallows your moans.

You kiss him hungrily, feeling him choke you. The taste of the spices in the mulled wine linger on his lips and tongue, spreading to your tongue as your tongue dances with his. His fingers slide in and out, the wet smacking filling the bathroom as his legs push yours further apart.

“So wet for me... Your greedy little pussy... Can't wait for me to fill you up tonight, can you?” he growls against your lips and you whimper again. Your pussy flutters around his fingers.

Whimpers and moans escape your lips. He slides another finger inside you and you let out a slight cry. His three fingers fuck you senseless, and he grunts as your wetness runs down his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Daemon,“ you whimper as you feel the pressure. He bites your lip lightly.

“Come on.. cum on my fingers, love…” he murmurs.

You moan again, but bite your lip to be quiet. His thumb doesn't stop circling you, while his fingers move faster, thrusting deeper.

You moan, unable to keep quiet as your eyes roll back into your head.

Daemon growls as he feels your walls clench around his fingers and you cream all over his penetrating fingers.

He kisses you again, swallowing the sounds of your pleasure as his fingers slide in and out.

“That's it...“ he whispers and you whimper as you come on his fingers. His movements slow down as he feels your walls stop clenching.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of you and moves them to his lips. He licks his fingers clean and grins at you as he sees you blush.

”Delicious,” he murmurs and you only slightly shake your head, but you smile.

He lightly kisses the corner of your mouth as he releases your neck. You straighten your clothes and take a step towards the door. You try to control your breathing to appear normal.

“Come on... let's get dessert,” you say, still breathless, holding out your hand.

He takes your hand but pulls you closer, ‘Well... I don't know about you, but I just had dessert,’ he murmus quietly.

You slap his chest lightly and he chuckles before you pull him out of the bathroom.

[captainamericasmotercycle]

Can I request one for Jacaerys Velaryon where Rhaenyra betroths him to his twin sister and they're both super awkward about it. You can write it as you wish.

warnings: i didn't make them twins so interpret her as you'd like, targ!cest (unintentional?), aemond and aegon taunting jace, high valyrion (i'm not fluent forgive me), takes place in 1.08 (lord of the tides), more angsty than awkward, aemond x reader if you squint really really hard?

“Her children are bastards! And she is a whore,” Vaemond Velaryon spoke with vemon on his tongue.

You and your brothers shared a glance of embarassment with one another.

Viserys hobbled up from his seat on the throne, “I will have your tongue for that.”

Before Viserys could get any further Dark Sister flung through the air, taking Vaemond’s head with her. Everyone in the room jumped back, your mother pushing you behind her, as your younger brother gasped.

“He can keep his tongue,” chaos erupted with the King’s guard.

“Disarm him!”

Daemon wiped the Velaryon blood off his sword and sheathed it, ushering you and his daughters out of the room, “No need.”

-

Later in the dining hall, you and your estranged family stood around a large table, Viserys was carried in and sat in between your mother and Alicent, “How good it is… to see you all tonight… together.”

One he was situated, all sat in the respective places, you between Jacaerys and Lucerys.

Alicent looked to her husband, “Prayer before we begin?”

“Yes,” your family was not the most religious, you looked to Jace, you looked back at you with an annoyed expression.

“May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest.”

Viserys was the first to speak, just barely lifting his cup, “This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandson Luke, will marry his cousins Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young Prince… and his betrothed! Hear, hear!”

The rest of the table rose their glasses and toasted to your younger brother.

Aegon, sitting next to Jace leaned over and spoke quietly, “Your younger brother bests you once again. Laying with a women before you.”

Viserys spoke again, “Let us toast as well Prince Lucerys… the future Lord of the Tides. Hear, hear!”

You smiled at him, squeezing his hand, “You’ll be great.”

Aegon continued on with him, “You do know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle? Where to put your cock and all that.”

“Let it be, Aegon,” Helaena chastised him, tired of his jokes.

“You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my sister,” Jace defended you.

Your family sat in tension, your grandsire felt the need to clear the air, “It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world… yet grown so distant from each other… in the years past.”

He takes his mask off his face and drops it on the table, “My own face… is no longer a handsome one… if indeed it ever was. But tonight… I wish you to see me… as I am. Not just a king… but your father. Your brother. Your husband… and your grand sire. Who may not, it seems… walk for much longer among you.”

He breathes heavily and struggles with his next words, “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown… then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”

Your grandsire sits and the room was filled with silence, your mother arose from her place next to him.

“I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood… more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with… unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude… and my apology.”

Alicent smiles solemnly to Rhaenyra, “Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess.”

She stands and raises her cup, “We are both mothers… and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow. I raise my cup to you… and to your house. You will make a fine queen.”

Each at the table took turns toasting to the family, each aggrivating Jacaerys more.

Aegon, drunkenly, rose, turning to Luke, “I, um… I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer. But if you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask.”

Aegon smiles and turns to Jace now, “Ask me, of course. Your older brother would not know how to guide you.”

Jace stands, slamming his hands down on the table, you grab his wrist, “Jace.”

Sternly looking at him, he glances to you before raising his glass, “To Prince Aegon and… Prince Aemond,” Aemond’s face hardens, “We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles.”

Jace sits and Heleana stands, “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you… except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

Aegon rolls his eyes in embarassment, Viserys smiles at his youngest daughter, and Daemon gently laughs.

Viserys feels ill and is taken out of the room. Only the Hightower side of the family is left.

You’ve always had a strained relationship with your uncles, but you did love Helaena, often times strolling in the gardens with her, or her teaching you some embroidery tricks.

Aemond glances at you from across the table, a dark and hungry look in his eyes. You look away from him and to your mother. She nods at you, as a way of saying that she would take care of it.

The pig comes out of the kitchens and is brought to the table, Luke chuckles at the sizzling pig. Aemond slams his fist on the table, capturing everyone’s attention.

“Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace… Luke… and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise… hm… strong,” he looks to you and smirks, “And my niece, you are of age now, luck to you in finding a husband. Perhaps someone strong, maybe you will find home in the Riverlands.”

“Aemond,” Alicent warns.

You can see Jace fuming from beside you, but you gently nudge his foot under the table with yours. You keep your composure.

You hum, smirking back at him, “Kirimvose, yn nyke gīmigon nyke kostagon become tolī than sepār mirtys’s riñnykeā ābrazȳrys… Kepa.” Thank you, but I know I can become more than just someone's lady wife… uncle

“Kostilus se ābrazȳrys hen nykeā darilaros?” Perhaps the wife of a prince?

“Nyke unyishishk jorrāelagon daorun tolī than naejot sagon se ābrazȳrys hen dārys's tȳne tresy.” I would love nothing more than to be the wife of the king's second son.

Aemond’s face hardened. Only you, Aemond, your mother, and Daemon fully understood the words exchanged. Your mother and Daemon shared a look of pride.

Alicent looked at the interaction with confusion and furrowed brows.

“What are they saying?”

“Aemond has proposed a marriage it seems,” Rhaenyra speaks.

Jace looks at you almost angrily, “What did you say?”

All eyes were on you, “What she said is not important,” your mother interrupted.

She cleared her throat, “What matters is that my daughter will wed her brother, Jacaerys, heir to the Iron Throne. She will become queen one day; something more than someone’s lady wife.”

Everyone’s eyes widened. You felt heat rise to your cheeks. There is no way that your mother would have you marry your brother?

Aemond’s hardened grin turned to a smug one, “Well then, congratulations is in order to my niece and her strong husband.”

Jace stood and walked towards the center of the room, challenging his uncle, “I dare you to say that again.”

Aemond stood with him, walking to him, “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment,” he leaned into Jace, whispering into his ear, “Do you not think yourself Strong?”

Without hesitation, Jace swung at Aemond, getting in a good punch onto his jaw. Everyone around the table gasped, your mother yelled sternly, “Jace!”

Aemond reached for his blade, but his mother’s voice stopped him, “Aemond! That is enough!”

“Go to your quarters. All of you go, now.”

You stood and watched Jace walk out. You didn’t follow him to his quarters to check on him. You stayed in the hall and waited for your mother.

As she came out of the dining hall, you caught up with her.

“Mother!”

She turned to you, “Were you telling the truth… about me.. and Jace?”

Holding your face in her hands she stroked your cheek with her thumb and smiled gently at you, but you could not meet her eyes, “You will make a great queen one day, my sweet girl.”

She tugged at your chin to force you to look at her, “But now, you need to rest, we have quite the journey ahead of us back to Dragonstone, tomorrow.”

You nodded before heading back to your quarters. Nodding at the guards standing at your door, you pushed them open.

Jace, who was waiting for you on your bed, stood at your entrance. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“Jacaerys, it is not proper for you to be in here… not anymore.”

“Please just listen.”

You walked around the room, releasing the maids of their duties, “Leave us.” The maids were quick to exit.

“I did not know she was going to say that!”

“I did not know Aemond would try to wed me tonight.”

“I’m sorry. We do not have to wed if you choose to take someone else’s hand—”

“No,” shaking your head, “It is.. our duty now, as the future queen’s eldests.”

“I promise to be a good husband—”

“Jacaerys, I do not wish to speak of this any longer.”

He spoke your name softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Leave me, Jace.”

He said your name more sternly now.

“Leave me, your grace.”

He sunk into himself, hands on his sheathed sword, nodding at you, “As you wish.”

You watch him leave, the door slamming behind him. You groaned in frustration, running your hands over your face and through your hair.

How are you supposed to marry your brother of all people?

[drakoneve]

A Dragon's Wrath

Request: hello hello, how are u? Idk if u write for Harwin Strong, but I'm obsessed with this man, so if you're not taking requests for him, forgive me for being rude. So I wanted to make a request where the reader is the younger sister of Rhaenyra Targaryen, also daughter of Aemma and Viserys. She married Strong, and lives a dream life with him (they love each other very much, so please, Rhaenyra's children are not his 🫠) and the legitimacy of their children was questioned, of course the queen would never imagine that Harwin had a birthmark, which none of his brothers inherited from Lyonel, he being the only one to have it and ALL THE CHILDREN OF HARWIN AND THE PRINCESS HAVE THAT SAME BRAND, JUST LIKE THE FATHER'S. Maybe I went on too long and was stupid, sorry, you can do whatever comes to your brilliant mind, I just really wish the legitimacy of the children of the OC was proved by legal means and gave no right to be questioned even by the queen. Thank you for your attention, I understand if you don't want to do it 🤍.

pairing: harwin strong x targ!fem!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: mentions of childbirth, alicent being snakey

a/n: first harwin fic, harwin girlies lmk what you think!! for the sake of this fic, Rhae's children have Targaryen silver hair

In all the years the pair were married, King Viserys and Queen Aemma were blessed by the Mother with only two healthy, living babes. First born has been your elder sister Rhaenyra, whom you followed two years later.

Growing up the two of you remained close through your lessons and dragon riding, but as Rhaenyra grew older she would end up spending more and more time with her lady in waiting Alicent Hightower. Rhaenyra and Alicent being two of the only other girls your age in the Red Keep and their refusal to have anyone join them in their activities, you felt somewhat dejected by your sister's budding friendship.

This is what led you to find solace in the Red Keep's training yards. Day after day you watched knights, and knights in training, battle it out in the yard while you worked on your studies. It was there in the yard you saw him for the first time- your future husband, Ser Harwin Strong.

At the time you had no idea you would end up marrying him, of course, but you should have.

You'd heard all about Ser Harwin Breakbones, son of Lyonel Strong, one of your father's most loyal council men. Harwin's reputation truly preceded him and was rightfully earned.

You hadn't noticed it at the time, but you'd abonded your books and parchments in the stands by your supervising Septa as you approached the rail separating the stands and the training yard in an attempt for a clearer view.

Harwin stood taller than his opponents, shoulders back, sword in hand ready to defend himself. He watched his opponents carefully, calculating their next move. His short brown curls were halfway pulled back out of his face with a tie, exposing Harwin's jawline, much to your own enjoyment.

That afternoon you watched Harwin take down man after man without so much as a proper blow to his own body. He wielded his sword as if it were an extension of his arm in fluid, rushing movements.

When he had finally finished for the evening you applauded him, finally grabbing his attention as he had held yours.

"You are quite the swordsman, Ser Harwin!" you call out to him. "I feel much better knowing there are knights as skilled as you protecting my home."

Harwin grinned largely at your praise, twirling his sword in his hand for show as he approached the rail you supported yourself on. "I mean only to ensure you are safe at all times, my princess."

You smiled down at him now that he was almost right below you. "Well I have no doubts of your capabilities, Ser. I have a feeling you will do great things here, should you wish."

"You are too kind, princess," he chuckles. Then he looks up at the sky, towards the sun on it's way to set. "It is getting quite late, princess. Shall I escort you back to your chambers?"

The excitement and hopefulness in his face brought butterflies to your stomach.

"I would like nothing more, Ser."

After that night it was scarce the two of you weren't side by side, which all but pushed your fathers to wed the two of you.

Now you stood in those same stands, watching Harwin in the yard yet again, but now he's joined by your two eldest sons. Maevor has just passed his tenth and second name day, and Daeragon his ninth. Your two youngest babes, however remained with you and your maid and close friend, Malina.

Malina had first been assigned to you after your marriage to Harwin, and she'd stood loyally by your side as you birthed all of your children.

Malina's elder brother Ellion, a knight of the City Watch, stood closeby on the order of Harwin. He'd been one of Harwin's best men as you'd heard him compliment the younger knight on many occasions in the past. Being a Targaryen princess and wife of the Lord Commander in such uncertain times in the house of the dragon could be dangerous, and Harwin meant only to protect you and your babes.

Your first daughter, eldest of your month old twins, Naelora cooed softly in your arms as she played with the loose sleeve ends of your dress. You indulged her for a moment, raising your arm to lift the sleeve from her reach to tease her.

She gurgles in laughter, stretching her chubby little arms to grasp your sleeve once more.

The moment is over by the approach of Queen Alicent's lady in waiting, Talya.

"My apologies, Princess," Talya bows to you first. "But the Queen has requested Malina's presence for this afternoon."

Why would the queen need Malina specifically? Surely she could find another maid within the Keep to aid her?

Malina looks to you, pale brown eyes silently asking to stay. This isn't the first time something like this has happened, of course. After giving birth to your second son Daeragon, Queen Alicent began requesting Malina's presence more often.

Still sore from your labors, Harwin had taken the day off to aid you and watch over Maevor to allow you to rest.

You watched happily from your spot on the bed as Harwin held little Daeragon, to introduce him to his elder brother. Maevor, a boy of three years, stood as high as he could on his toes to get a peek over Harwin's bulk of an arm to get a glimpse of his brother.

Then your chamber doors open and Malina returns to your side after serving the queen all day. She approaches the foot of your bed, hands clasped together in front of her with her eyes cast slightly downwards.

"Malina, you needn't worry about me," you begin to dismiss her kindly. "I'm sure the Queen-"

But Malina shakes her head, brown curls following her, still refusing to meet your gaze. "I need to speak with you, Princess. And you, Lord Harwin, in privacy."

You share a concerned look with Harwin, who's joyfulness has been replaced with worry. In the time she's served you Malina had never been afraid to look you in your eyes.

He wastes no time escorting Maevor to his chambers just off your own, and placing little Daeragon in his crib next to your side of the bed. Harwin returns and stands dutifully on the other side of you as if protecting you.

"What is it?" you ask, and pat the bed in front of you for Malina to sit.

Malina makes no move to sit on your bed. "My princess," her voice wavers nervously. "I have served your for near half a decade now, and I know you to be the most true and kind person I have ever had the pleasure of serving-"

"Malina," Harwin interrupts sternly. "Speak it plain, what have you heard of my wife?"

Your heart thudded hard in your chest as you instinctively reached for Harwin's hand. He intertwined his fingers with your in an attempt to comfort you.

Malina takes in a deep breath before finally looking up to meet your gaze. "Queen Alicent requested my presence after your labors today for questioning."

"Questioning?" you tilted your head slightly. "About what?"

"Your sons," she answered swiftly. "She... She wanted to know if this babe looked like Harwin or..."

Harwin pulled his hand from yours, placing it on the hilt of his sword. "Or who, Malina?"

"Ellion," Malina whispers. "The Queen seems to believe that you spend too much time with Ellion, princess. She asked if I knew of any relations between the two of you, but I swore to her you are deathly loyal and would never-"

You move from your spot on the bed to bring yourself to stand. Harwin aids you as you steady yourself, then reach for Malina's forearm.

"You needn't explain yourself to me, Malina," you assure her. "I know you to be true to me, and you are one of the kindest ladies I know. You should go, retire for the night. We shall do the same."

Malina apologizes the whole way out your chamber doors despite your assurances. Harwin begins to strip his armor as you settle yourself back into bed.

Daeragon's crib sat just off the side of your bed, close enough for you to have a view of the newborn's little face.

Harwin soon joins your side clad in his nightclothes. You can feel his gaze on you, but you refuse to meet his gaze. Emotions ran rampant through you. You knew it must be the strain and high emotions of you and your new babe surviving the day, but you couldn't stop the rush.

It's when the tears begin to fall from your lilac eyes that Harwin wraps you up in his arms and pulls you back against him.

"My love," he cooes. "Sweet girl, do not worry yourself with the opinion of a misguided, jealous woman."

He raises his right hand to show off the inside of his right wrist, showing off the small, discolored patch of skin he inherited from his father, Lord Lyonel. A small, almost missable, seemingly insignificant patch of skin both Maevor and Daeragon had inherited.

Harwin leans in close, placing his lips against the shell of your ear. "We know I have fathered your sons, my love. Do not worry yourself with this, it is not worth it."

"You're right, husband," you hum, settling into your husband's arms for the night. "I'm just glad he's here, and healthy."

He kisses your temple softly. "You did that. You made him the healthy babe he is."

As you promised Harwin that night, you did your best to ignore the rumors pursued by Alicent. In the years following Daeragon's birth you'd heard more whispers within the court questioning your son's parentage, though you said nothing.

You tried your best to pay them no mind, other days they really got to you. But for now you simply obliged to the queen's wishes.

"Ser Ellion," you motioned your friend forward with one hand. He looked much like his sister as they shared the same nose, and brown curly hair, though Ellion's eyes were an elegant green. Still, no man in the Seven Kingdoms could come close to Harwin in your eyes.

"Would you mind taking my sweet Raemor from your sister? I'm afraid I cannot tend to both babes at once."

Ellion nods and leans down slightly to make a peaceful transition from his sister's arms. He wore an awkward grin on his face as he cradles the blanket wrapped babe the best he could in a full suit of armor. "It is an honor, Princess. Though I'm not certain he will be comfortable against such steel."

Malina bows and takes Talya's arm in her own. You know Malina's dislike for the woman, and you can only guess she's done this to ensure Talya is led away from you and your family.

You shake your head in response to Ellion yet keep your attention on your daughter in your arms. "It is no issue, Harwin holds them in his armor every day. He has with each of them."

A moment passes in silence and you look up to your husband and eldest children. Maevor's brown curls are just long enough on the top to be tied back while leaving some down thus his hair is relatively tame. Daeragon's, however, is tousled and absolutely untame.

Both boys are breathing heavier now, their cheeks flushed. But the beautiful, pure look of excitement on their faces melted your heart. They knew their father was Lord Commander of the City Watch, and that Harwin worked hard for his family at his very important job, and they treasured their father for it.

After taking them to see Harwin train with some of the new recruits of the City Watch two fortnights ago had been a mistake on your part for the boys had not shut up about training themselves. At first you had been hesitant, of course other Targaryen princes had been taught to fight years before your boys, but you were afraid of the things they might encounter so instead you encouraged them to spend time in the libraries and their respective dragons.

As a result the boys were extremely well read and years ahead of their pupils in their studies. Maevor is practically fluent in Valyrian now, and Daeg is not far behind.

Their insistent pleading had wore on you though, and you gave in to them with Harwin's reassurance he would personally oversee their training. In the end, Maevor and Daeg's immediate joy at being granted permission made it worth it in the end.

Harwin and the boys were cleaning their training gear and putting it away.

Ellion clears his throat, pulling your attention from your family. "I fear something is happening, Princess."

"What do you mean?" you ask, standing from your seat and brushing your skirts with one hand.

"I have been approached twice now," he explains carefully, watching who was sat in the immediate area. The closest people sat on the complete opposite of the training yard in those stands. "Once by a fellow knight, and then by Talya herself. I only mention this as a warning, Princess."

Harwin and the boys are nearly there and you don't want the boys to hear such slander.

"Thank you, Ellion," you force a smile to give him. "And I apologize for what has been whispered around court these last years, but I plan now to make it right."

Harwin approaches you then, slinking one arm around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. "Come, my love, the boys need to bathe and our littlest ones must be ready for their nap."

Maevor perks up, "Mother, may I carry Naelora back to your chambers?"

Your hearts melts at the question, Maevor ever the doting older brother. You grant your son permission, gently reminding him to hold her head carefully.

"And I shall take Raemor from you, Ellion. I thank you for your services for today."

He bows respectfully, "Tis my duty, and an honor."

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

Once the twins are down for their naps and the older boys off to the bathhouse with Malina you informed Harwin of everything that had transpired this afternoon while he trained with the boys.

His thick brows furrowed almost immediately, angre written upon his face. Harwin had shed his armor by now, settling for more comfortable leathers for the evening. His sword however, stayed attached to his hip with one hand gripping the hilt.

"I am sick of hearing your name and reputation tarnished by fools!" Harwin seethes, angrier than you've ever seen him. "I have half a mind to slay them all down for even thinking such things of our children, of you."

You shake your head softly, approaching him to cup his face. You press your forehead against his own, something you've always done to comfort him.

"I have a plan, my dutiful husband," you assure him. "I happen to have a wonderful relationship with my father by law, if you must know. And I just so happen to know that a Small Council meeting starts in mere minutes."

Harwin eases a little, but now he's wrought with confusion.

"What have you planned, my love?"

You smile mischievously and press a sweet kiss to your husband's lips. "Just you wait husband, I first require our Maevor."

The boys are back from their baths by now as you can hear them bustling about Daeragon's chambers, which is the adjoining room to your own.

You knock before you enter as you always do, to the sight of your boys on Daeg's bed, books sprawled open before them.

"What have we there, byka zaldrīzoti (little dragons)?" you ask as you join them on the bed.

Daeg pulls the leather bound book to cover his lap to show you. "The Histories of Old Valyria!" he chimes. "Maevor was reading it to me in Valyrian."

You stroke Daeg's plush cheek with one hand, still able to see the babe he used to be in his face, and take Maevor's hand in your other.

"He's smart, your brother," you 'whisper' to Daeragon. "I would study hard, my Prince."

Maevor breaks his hand away to rustle his brother's brown curls. "Muña's teasing, Daeg. You are smarter now than I was your age."

You swoon, heart melting at the relationship between your boys. "Oh my sweet Maev," you kiss his temple. "Might I borrow you for a awhile, I have something important to discuss with the Small Council and I need your help."

Maevor's brown eyes widened slightly, "Of course, mother."

"Have no fear, sweet boy, I have a plan."

And you sure did. Once you explained what you could to Maevor while sparing his innocence best you could, he'd been more than willing to join you.

You squatted down to be closer to your son's level, Harwin by your side. "You are special, Maevor," you explain to him. You grab Harwin's right hand and Maevor's to put them side by side. Both birthmarks were near identical save for Harwin's being larger and slightly darker than his son's. "Each of my babes have this mark, all from Harwin, who inherited it from your grandsire, Lyonel. Do you understand?"

He nods, but says nothing. Harwin crouches down next to you, reaching to cup his eldest son's face.

"I wish we did not have to burden you with such a task, my boy," Harwin admits grimly. "I want you to know we are only doing this because we love you children, and I love your muña too much to let people speak of her in such a way any longer."

So the three of you set off, accompanied by Ellion as Malina had stayed behind to watch the twins and Daeragon.

Despite the Kingsguard outside the meeting room of the Small Council, you march right past them and push the doors open yourself.

Each member of the council turns to you now silenced. Otto sat up straighter in his seat as he looked towards his daughter. Alicent looked shocked to see the group of you, and you noted her visible nervousness.

Lyonel stands and comes to Harwin's side, demanding answers most likely. Harwin begins whispering in his father's ear, explaining the situation.

"Sister," Rhaenyra stands, hand placed over her round stomach. "What is wrong?"

You cross your arms over your chest, eyes blazing as you glare at the Hightowers at the table. "Since the birth of my Daeragon I have endured vile slanders against not only myself, but my marriage, and every one of my children."

Alicent shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

"Princess," Otto pokes in. "I can assure you-"

"Assure what?" you snap, slamming down on the table to lean towards the Hand. "Alicent has been the one to pull my ladies from me just after giving birth to insinuate my babes have been fathered by knight of the City Watch who is not my husband. Even now, a month after having my twins, I am approached with more blasphemy. No more."

You usher Maevor forward, who happily extends his right arm before you have to ask. Harwin joins you, followed by Lyonel, both of whom put out their wrists as well.

Alicent's mouth widens in shock before she grits her teeth. Even Larys' wears a look of shock as he checks his own wrists, coming up with nothing.

"I am tired of my children being put under scrutiny," you say finally. "And of my loyalty to my husband being questioned. Now, if you all do not mind, I would like to enjoy the rest of the day with my family undisturbed."

You step back from the table to leave when Rhaenyra wraps you up in a hug. "I am so sorry, sister," she whispers.

You assure her with a simple kiss to the side of her head before reaching for Maevor's hand.

The boy is practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you make your way back to your chambers, both Harwin and Ellion following close behind.

"She is very scary, your wife," Ellion admits to Harwin lowly. "I would to want to be on the receiving end of her wrath."

He only chuckles, "No, nor would I."

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (9/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex scene with Alys from the past, smut, the angst, description of a drug overdose, murder by shot in the head, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After everything that had happened, according to his suspicions, all hell broke loose: Daemon's anger over the fact that they had dared to kidnap and imprison his daughter was great. Helaena, Daeron and his mother stayed in the house almost all the time under the supervision of their bodyguards, so that the unpleasant consequences of what was happening would not reach them.

Daemon's gangsters tried to forcibly take over what was rightfully theirs: brothels, clubs, restaurants, however, they were met with resistance, as they had no intention of moving from their place and giving them anything.

The comical thing was that, although the law was on his side, Daemon could not use the help of the police: their discovery of how widespread the money laundering and drug smuggling was would have given them all life imprisonment, and the premises would have been seized by the State for as long as the prosecution considered it good for the case.

For the first time in years there were real shootings and on several occasions, had it not been for his reflexes, a bullet would have pierced his arm or leg when he was just walking to the car park or leaving the club.

Despite what common sense would dictate, he didn't feel terrified: on the contrary, some part of him wanted a challenge, a release, anything that would make him stop thinking about what he had done to her.

He couldn't forgive himself for showing her weakness, for crying in her presence like a small child, for begging her forgiveness only to find after a while that he missed her, that he had suffered through their separation and the fact that he had lost her.

One part of him wanted to forget her but the other ached to prove to her that in some fucked up way he could change.

To become a different kind of monster, one that wouldn't devour her, but protect her.

He planned what he wanted to do with meticulous care, as if he were going off to war. He knew that Larys Strong was preoccupied with what was going on, thinking they were focused on Daemon, he meanwhile was lavelling between them, trying to pick up customers from both sides.

He was like a disgusting snake whose head he wanted to trample on, but mostly because he dared to threaten her.

He wanted to make sure that this piece of shit would disappear from the face of the earth.

He initiated the only person in his industry he trusted, namely Alys, into his plan.

"Why?" She asked, smoking a cigarette with him by the wide-open window in her flat, sitting in her smart black shirt and trousers, her luscious green irises staring at him anxiously, letting out a mouthful of smoke.

He took a drag, looking blankly out of the window, at the townhouse across the street, seeing her face then as she lay numb in the toilet, and then as she lay in his bed, after he gave her the sleeping drug himself.

He pressed his lips together at the thought, feeling an unpleasant constriction in his chest indicating that he was remorseful.

"He was the one who gave my niece the rape pill." He sighed, tilting his head back, spreading himself more comfortably in the chair with a loud creak of wood.

Alys stared at him in silence for a long time, her cigarette slowly burning out between her fingers.

"I met her. Your niece. A few weeks ago in the Red Sun pub." She hummed, taking another drag, not taking her eyes off him.

He knew she had noticed that something flashed across his face at the mention of her – involuntarily he turned his head away and swallowed hard, clenching his free hand into a fist.

Alys chuckled under her breath, blowing smoke out of her mouth straight at him as she spoke her next words.

"Daemon showed her what you did to Robert."

He stared ahead, fiddling with the packet of cigarettes lying on the table in front of him, feeling his heart in his throat.

So that's how she found out, he thought with regret.

"How did she react?" He asked involuntarily.

"The poor girl was in shock. Her uncle turned out to be less understanding than she might have thought." She muttered, leaning forward, resting her body weight on her elbows.

He couldn't look at her, afraid she would see what he so desperately wanted to hide from her.

"Was that her name that you accidentally blurted out then?" She asked, making him feel an unpleasant squeeze in his throat and a burning wetness under his eyelids.

The prove that she was right.

The nights with Alys had been simple: they'd taken care of business and then fucked. They knew they were both broken: what they were doing had warped and deformed them as individuals, and by giving each other intimacy they were simultaneously comforting each other in their misery.

"– fuck –" He breathed out, tilting his head back, his hands clenched in her hair so tightly that he heard her hiss from between his thighs. Her nails dug warningly into his hip, signalling him not to overdo it.

He couldn't believe how good she was at sucking cock, with what ease her tongue rolled around it's delicate, pink head while clamping her lips so that she squeezed it with each of his thrusts deep into her warm throat.

He was aroused by her directness, by the fact that she only wanted to satisfy and be satisfied, exactly as he did.

"– stop – 'm close –" He exhaled as he felt his erection begin to throb vigorously and twitch deep inside her mouth, causing her to let him out with a loud, perverted click of her saliva.

His manhood was all red and pulsing, glistening from his precum and her wetness, pleasant warmth in his belly.

Alys wasted no time in pulling her black lace panties off her legs, allowing him to turn her onto her stomach as usual. He positioned himself between her thighs, spreading her soft, full buttocks like a fruit, sinking into her warmth with a loud sigh of relief.

Only then, when he couldn't see her face, he was able to close his eyes and sink into his most sickening, dark fantasy.

As he slid slowly into her, in his imagination he could see the terrified, hot look in her eyes, her sweet lips wide open, her soft, fleshy cunt clenched around his swollen erection, throbbing with longing, making him run out of breath, her hands simultaneously pushing him away and holding him close.

"– Aemond – no, no, we can't – we can't –" His niece mewled in his mind, whimpering softly and innocently, afraid that someone would hear them, that her brothers would find out what he was doing to her, how greedily he was opening her slick walls on his fat cock again and again, unable to stop.

"– oh baby –" He mumbled.

He heard another sound too, a lower one – Alys moaned feeling him involuntarily quicken his pace, thrusting deep between her leaking, convulsing folds. Frustrated, he clamped his hand in her hair, pressing her face harder against the duvet, not wanting to hear her now.

He had never kissed Alys or any other woman. When they tried to do this, he felt only disgust and turned his head away – the act seemed to him too tender, too intimate, and on top of that, it reminded him of her, the taste of her lips, her warm breath on his face, her sweet scent.

For this reason, too, he never stayed up all night or went to sleep with the women he fucked: their arms, their embrace was not the one he longed for, their words, their skin, their fingers, their faces, their hair, everything was different, different, different, foreign, distant, repulsive.

Alys knew.

She felt it subconsciously.

"– are you thinking about her now? – " She breathed out, making him involuntarily bite his lower lip and groan throatily, his hips began to slam against her ass faster and faster, bringing him closer with each thrust to fulfilment deep inside her.

She didn't know her identity, but she knew she existed and that he wasn't able to forget about her.

"– would you like her to be so fucking wet for you? – to take you in so easily? – for her little pussy to clench around your cock? – to come inside her? –" She exhaled, and he groaned, imagining that she wanted it, that she craved his cum deep inside her pretty, innocent body, slamming between his niece's thighs like a mad.

"– u-uncle – uncle, uncle, uncle, oh God, oh my fucking God, please –" He heard her vulnerable whines, feeling a squeeze in his testicles, hot wave of pleasure ran through his lower abdomen and stomach.

"– f-fuck, Rhaenys –" He mumbled and came with a loud gasp, feeling her spasming cunt begin to clench against his twitching erection, along with him going through the wonderful relief that shook his body.

He froze, panting loudly and opened his eyes only to see that Alys was grinning wildly.

She was proud of herself.

She loved to torment him.

"– Rhaenys –" She said after him, intrigued, without shadow of regret or pain on her face. "– what a pretty name –"

"– 'm sorry – forget about it –" He mouthed, completely panicked, sliding out of her with a loud click of their moisture, feeling his heart pounding like a mad in fear.

He thanked God that it wasn't her real name.

"– why? – tell me more about her – it's touching in some way that you are so deeply in love with her –" She hummed, turning onto her back.

He quickly zipped up his trousers, for some reason unable to look at her bare body now, furious at her remark.

"Fuck no." He growled.

Alys twisted in her place, surprised.

"Aemond."

"I don't want to talk about it. That's not why I came here." He said in frustration, grabbing his Tshirt, putting it aggressively over his head.

She sighed heavily, leaning her back against the bed frame, looking at him intently.

"You are adorable when you are mad."

He looked at her, seeing in her eyes that she knew she'd hit the nail on the head and ran his hand over his face.

"Have you fulfilled your fantasies with her? Then, during your father's birthday. After all, he invited your whole family." She sneered, cocking her head.

He shuddered, looking at her shocked and horrified, feeling like a little boy caught in the act.

"Don't be ridiculous. If you don't want to help me with what I came to you with, just say so." He hissed too quickly, too angrily and too helplessly, and the corner of Alys' mouth twitched in a grin.

"Did you stop talking to her when her mother married Daemon through a conflict of interest or because you knew that as an uncle you shouldn't moan your niece's name during your climax?" She asked, and he felt his lips part in a shuddering, uneven breath.

"You betrayed that poor little girl even though she gave you everything you wanted."

Her cold, mocking words stayed with him all night: she didn't give him a clear answer as to whether she would help him, but she let him know that she didn't intend to interrupt him.

She had no love for Larys Strong and would benefit from his disappearance herself.

Although the plan was different, more complicated and sublime, he drove straight to Heavenly Beach.

You betrayed that poor little girl even though she gave you everything you wanted.

When it was all over, he decided that his success had been determined by the effect of the surprise: when he walked into Larys's office, he greeted him with a smile, standing up, apparently wanting to offer him something to drink and ask what he was coming to him with.

The bodyguard didn't even think to take his gun away from him.

He was just his grandfather's faithful dog, nothing more.

And yet, when he pointed it at his head and simply fired, shooting him right in the forehead, Larys seemed surprised and staggered backwards, falling numbly like a heavy wooden puppet to the floor.

He fled through the back exit, the door by which the bar staff were leaving for a cigarette, and although he hoped that one of the shots he heard behind him among the screams would reach him, it did not.

Apart from the shattered rear window of the car and the wrath of his grandfather, no other consequences of his act reached him.

"Do you know what you did? Larys was filling our pockets with money."

"And also emptied them." He hissed, watching as Otto paced around the room while he sat in his chair, pleased with himself as never before.

For some reason he felt a sense of pride.

"You are a fool. You did it out of a private desire for revenge. You acted rashly and thoughtlessly. You have failed me for the last time." He said in a manner from which he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Aegon will take over the whole business, not you."

When he finally returned to his flat he felt rage and relief, disappointment and euphoria at the same time, feeling like he had completely lost his mind.

Vhagar watched him from across the room, seeing him throw things off tables and cupboards, afraid to approach him, her tail tucked under her belly.

He had killed him for her.

He sacrificed himself for her.

He lost his inheritance for her.

And she was not with him.

He felt in that moment that he loved her and hated her at the same time.

The dreams in which he killed Larys again and again came back to him every night, making him wake up drenched in cold sweat: he saw in them how he gouged out his eyes, how he cut off his limbs before her eyes, listening to her screams and her cries, her pleas for him to stop.

By having his grandfather reduce his role to the bare minimum of collecting money and handing over goods, he could finally concentrate on his studies during the day. To his surprise, sinking into the thick textbooks she had brought him was liberating, as if a new, previously unknown part of the world had opened up to him.

He was going to attend the exam.

He hoped to see her there.

He filed the documents in person and, as he was leaving the University, he spotted one of Daemon's bodyguards smoking a cigarette in the car park from a distance.

They had been watching her the whole time.

Good, he thought.

He knew that if anyone saw him there Daemon would take her out immediately and that was why he had to be more careful.

On the day of the exam, he felt like a small child: even though he knew what he had to prepare for and had gone through specific chapters many times, standing with a group of young people peering at his face and scar he felt alien, even though he hoped it would be different.

Even when he tried, he couldn't fit in, blend in with the crowd.

To his surprise, he found the exam itself trivial: too simple for his taste. He recognised that he had surely made some mistake when reading the questions, that there was something tricky about them, that he would make a fool of himself.

However, reading what he had written again and again he thought he had given the correct answers and just gave up, walking out of the room, dismayed and disappointed.

He felt like he had been pierced by lightning when he saw her standing in the corridor, looking at him with her mouth wide open. He felt a pleasant heat in his chest at the thought that she had come, for him, just for him, and then he looked to the side and saw who was standing next to her.

His hands clenched into a fist as her ex-boyfriend reached out to him, fumbling some sort of goof about how nice it was to meet him, pretending to be open and welcoming.

His niece saw immediately the danger that lurked behind his furious expression.

"Thank you, Robb. Will you leave us alone?" She asked him in a trembling voice.

He thought she had only taken him with her for safety, as she was afraid to come to him alone, and affectionately concluded that she was a wise girl.

"Are you sure?" Her ex asked her, making him feel his jaw clench in rage.

"Didn't you hear what she said?" He sneered harshly, throwing him a look full of boredom and disapproval, wanting to show him that he was losing patience.

He had done his part and there was certainly nothing more between them, so he could fuck off.

Robb clearly didn't like the tone of his voice.

"I'm not talking to you, mate." He said in a way he didn't like, but all it took was a movement in his direction for his niece to stand in front of him, looking straight into his face with her big eyes, her cheeks rosy with emotion.

"That's enough." She said. "Aemond is having a hard time. Forgive him. Sometimes he doesn't know how to behave. He won't hurt me. Am I wrong?"

He swallowed hard, looking away with his heart beating fast, feeling the hot shame spread across his lower abdomen.

He won't hurt me.

When Robb finally left them alone she shook her head with an expression on her face as if she regretted coming to see him at all and turned, startling him by going the other way.

"It was a mistake."

"– no – no, wait –" He moved behind her, immediately grabbing her arm, pulling her closer, as close as possible, smelling her body and her hair again, the scent of vanilla filling his lungs.

He let his hand embraced her waist, pressing his forehead into her temple, wanting to take refuge in her, feeling thirsty for her presence, her words, her warm gaze full of understanding.

"– are you two together again? –" He whispered involuntarily, wanting to be sure that this bastard was no longer a threat to her, that he didn't have to worry about him hurting her again.

He swallowed hard when he heard her cold laughter full of frustration, feeling a stinging discomfort in his stomach.

"– do you want to tell me how you know who I'm dating and when? –" She asked drily.

Why did she avoid answering?

Why did she speak in this way?

"– do you love him? –" He muttered, and she shook her head, furious, trying to push him away.

"– I hope you'll pass – let me go – let me go, I said –" She growled, but he clamped his hands on her back and snuggled her body into his, sinking his nose into her wonderfully soft, warm cheek, feeling how his erection reacted with an aggressive, joyful pulsing to her closeness.

How was he ever going to let anyone else have her?

How would he ever get over it?

There was no way back now.

"– I killed him for you –" He whispered and felt her stop resisting him, her whole body frozen in stillness.

He sighed quietly, leaning in, his lips swollen with desire as he began to place wet, hot, lingering kisses on her face, her jaw, her neck with every word he spoke.

"– I killed him because he threatened you – because he wanted to hurt you – I want you to be safe –"

He felt her hands tighten on the material of his shirt as a quiet cry left her lips, and he, feeling an involuntary desire to protect her from this suffering, cuddled her face into his neck, wanting to hide her, to bury her deep within himself, to be her stone fortress in which she could hide.

"– I'm not pregnant –" She whispered in a way from which he froze.

There was no satisfaction or relief in her words.

She was sad.

This revelation, the thought that some part of her wanted this child as much as he did, caused his full lips to place a tender, drawn-out kiss on her temple.

"– I know – the doctor told me – we just have to try again –"

We just have to try again.

He couldn't believe how easy it had been for him to say that, to accept that he was sick, that he had just told his own niece that they should fuck again, because that way they would perhaps have the baby they so wanted.

His life had reached such a level of absurdity that it no longer seemed impossible to him.

He heard her draw in a loud breath, shocked by what had left his mouth.

"– do you hear yourself? – after what you did to me? – after how –" She mouthed, choking on her own tears, however, instead of pushing him away she snuggled into him tighter, clasping her hands on his back.

She sought her comfort in him, in her tormentor, because he was the only one who understood what she was going through.

There was something simultaneously beautiful and tragic about this, he thought.

He had destroyed her.

"– shhh – I'm here, baby –" He hushed her, stroking her hair and her back as if she were a small child, pressing his face against her temple, wanting to show her that he was there for her and that this would never change.

His words written on a piece of paper then, in the hospital.

I will always watch over you.

They both flinched and moved away from each other when her phone began to ring and it appeared that her father's bodyguard who had been waiting for her had begun to grow impatient.

"– n-no – no, I'm on my way, I was talking to the professor – I'm sorry –" She muttered with difficulty, terrified, making him feel like locking her in his embrace and never letting her go.

She was so sad, so tired, so vulnerable.

He knew, he felt, that they would both experience true relief, true rest only in each other's arms, in the tight union of their hot, sweaty, naked bodies.

"– wait a few minutes before I go so they don't see you –" She said, leaving him alone, not bestowing a single glance on him.

And then her ex-boyfriend humiliated her in front other students, saying some bullshit about her lack of self-respect as he watched them from afar.

As soon as she was out of his sight he walked up to him – Robb looked at him horrified and took a step back, wanting to run away.

"I feel like smashing your skull for what you dared to say, but I won't do it for her sake. You will never speak to her that way again. What's more, you won't speak to her at all, or I'll make your face no longer beautiful. Do you understand?" He asked, and Robb nodded quickly, looking at him with big eyes.

"One ill-considered word from you. One look from her colleagues that I don't like and that reveals to me that you told someone about it, and your life will become very, very difficult. Mate." He sneered and sidestepped him, heading for his car, seeing that his niece and her father's bodyguard had driven off.

When he got back to his flat he thought he felt strangely calm: the thought that she had come to see him, that she still cared about what would happen to him, who he would be filled him with contentment and satisfaction.

He was not indifferent to her.

She could not hate him.

Vhagar, though uneasy in his presence for days, that evening approached him of her own accord wagging her tail. Though he did not usually do so, he allowed her to jump onto his bed, his broad hand stroking her large head. She licked his fingers, sniffing them beforehand with curiosity and he thought with a smile that she had smelt her scent.

"I saw her today, Vhagar. I saw my little girl." He hummed, scratching her behind the ear, letting her big furry body lie beside him on the bedding.

And then she called to him, furious and indignant, demanding an explanation.

Something about the way she spoke made him think she was charming when she was angry, surprising him with her directness.

However, this made him the one who wrote to her every day from then on, sending her pictures of Vhagar, and although she did not write back to him, he was happy.

He knew that she read his messages and thus he was able to convey his feelings to her, making her realise that there was not a moment that he did not think or miss her.

And then he found an envelope in his letter box with the University's logo on it, and for the first time in years he felt an almost childlike excitement as he ran up the stairs to his flat, thinking that maybe things were finally going to change in his life.

He felt his hands all trembling with emotion as he pulled a piece of paper from the inside and began to read, his heart in his throat when it became clear that his dream had come true.

He had passed.

He got into University.

He didn't know why he called her right away, walking back and forth across his room, smiling like a fool because he had made it, made it, made it.

"Aemond, you can't call me. Is something wrong?"

"I got in. I passed the exam." He said immediately, feeling euphoria, feeling joy, feeling satisfaction.

He wanted to experience it only with her, because only she could understand him, only her words, her appreciation, her joy could give him what he wanted.

"I'm proud of you. I really am." She confessed finally making him feel like bursting into tears, feeling for a moment he ran out of words, his heart pounding like crazy.

"Let's meet to celebrate. Please."

"No."

"Just for a moment. In a public place, in a restaurant, in a café. Wherever you want, wherever you feel safe." He begged, needing her now, her warm gaze, her hand clasped over his, her closeness, her, her, her.

"I can't, Aemond. You know I can't. I will always support you, including about your studies, but after what has happened I can't trust you." She confessed in a trembling voice.

He swallowed hard, feeling with shame that he had turned all red with emotion, and nodded his head, thinking with despair that he understood what she meant, feeling empty.

"– forgive me – I had no right to ask you to do this – it was a mistake resulting from my selfishness – thank you for everything –" He said.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled out in pain, but he hung up, or she would have heard his uneven, heavy breath, the effect of the tears that ran down his face and of which he was so ashamed.

How could he have been so naive to think that she would forgive him?

Would he forgive her if she did the same to him?

He tore up the card the University had sent him, thinking with regret that the sight of him in that building every day would bring back memories she wanted to forget.

He decided that there was no point in her seeing him, that he should respect her request, even though she did not at all want him to give up his dreams for her.

She was more understanding than he deserved.

Although he had never, ever done so, that evening he pulled out from his cupboard a syringe with the drug liquid he had given her that day when she had come to him at his request, wanting to help him.

He only used this narcotic in small amounts when he needed to fall asleep quickly, but this time he wasn't sure he wanted to wake up at all.

He squeezed his forearm with a special rubber band to make it easier to find the right vein under his skin and jabbed the needle into it, letting more of the drug into his system than ever before.

He thought he wanted to know how she felt then.

He imagined her terror, the one when, feeling him still deep inside her, she realised that he had tricked her, betrayed her, that he would do what he wanted with her and her body.

He felt like crying when everything around him blurred, when Vhagar began to bark, nudging him with her wet nose, licking his face. He, however, was only able to breathe, thinking that he was so monstrously tired, his body numb and heavy, as if it weighed hundreds of tons.

It seemed to him that it might have been months or even years before his mind began to awaken: the indistinct light of the lamps around him blinded him and irritated him at the same time, the loud beeping at his ear drove him mad, the stinging discomfort in his wrist seemed unnatural to him. He muttered in displeasure, twisting around, unable to fully open his eyes or rise, feeling dulled and frazzled.

"– no – lie down –" He heard his mother's voice, who had apparently risen from her chair, her familiar hand touching his arm. "– it's okay –"

"– what's going on? –" He choked out, feeling unpleasant anxiety and discomfort, everything around him seemed to be spinning.

"– you overdosed, Aemond –"

He spent the next few days in hospital, trying to recover under the watchful care of his mother and his sister.

He didn't know why he felt disappointment at the news that neither his grandfather nor his older brother planned to visit him, thinking he had acted like a small child merely seeking attention, why he thought they would care about his condition.

He didn't think much of it though, because as soon as he unlocked his phone, he saw three messages from her.

He had no idea what he was supposed to do, what to reply to her words, proof that she still cared about him, even though he didn't deserve it.

That same evening, when his mother was long gone from his side, she called him, making him feel euphoric and terrified at the same time. When he answered and put the phone to his ear he was silent, his heart deep in his throat.

"How are you feeling?" She asked softly, her voice full of uncertainty.

He swallowed hard, feeling somehow touched by her behaviour, by the fact that she wanted to talk to him despite what he had done to her.

"Exactly as I deserve." He confessed with shame.

"Did you… really want to do this?" She muttered in a trembling voice. He shook his head and laughed under his breath.

"No. I wanted to see how you felt that day."

Something in his words, in the way he said them made her draw in a loud breath.

"Your suffering is not my desire, Aemond. You hurt me, but I don't want revenge. I just want… to stop feeling this unbearable pain in my heart that I have felt in my chest for eight years."

So many unspoken words and feelings slipped through their fingers.

"I regret it so much. I told my grandfather that I didn't want him to involve you, but he said that if we didn't, someone else would want to take advantage of Daemon's weakness for you. And I believed him. I thought that Larys will actually try to do something to you again, but only now do I understand that it was a simple lie that I easily accepted to justify myself. Fuck, I'm so ashamed, baby, I really am."

He mouthed with difficulty, burying his face in his hand, feeling warm tears of shame run down his cheeks, trying to calm his heavy, ragged breath.

"My father took everything from me. I did these fucked-up things to other people for nothing. I mutilated them for nothing. The only thing he left me is the property by the sea, the same one where I lost my eye, as if he had made a mockery of me. I was so lost. I still am."

She was silent for a moment, as if wondering what to respond to his words.

"What do you want, Aemond? Truly. Be honest."

He swallowed hard, feeling that this was one of the most important moments of his life and he couldn't fuck it up.

"I want to study and see you once in a while. In a public place, so that you feel safe."

"And that's it? What about your family? About your business?"

"My grandfather limited my influence and responsibilities after I shot Larys without his knowledge. He no longer trusts me and doesn't assign me important tasks."

She fell silent again, making him feel like he was going mad with the uncertainty, his heart in his throat.

"The University Library." She said finally, and he grunted quietly, trying to calm himself down.

"I don't understand."

"We can meet in the University Library."

"Really?" He asked hopefully, feeling his heart beat harder, hot with excitement.

"Only there and for a short time. Once in a while. If I find out you did something to hurt me or my family, you'll never see me again."

The next day she agreed with him that they would meet in a side area of the library: it was nearing the holidays and most people were either outside or in the main reading room, so she decided that no one should notice or bother them there.

Fifteen minutes in which she was going to help him prepare for his first class, nothing more.

Nevertheless, in his mind it was his chance to prove himself and get things right.

To regain her trust.

He wanted to buy her a bouquet of flowers, however, standing in front of them he had no idea which ones to choose.

What if she doesn't like cut flowers, only ones in a pot?

Should he even hand it to her in the library?

He ran his hand over his face thinking that his deliberations were idiotic and only showed how desperate he was.

Then, however, he decided that instead of a flower he would buy her a strawberry lollipop: since she used strawberry gloss she must have liked the taste and could at least eat it, and he could hide it in the pocket of his trousers.

With this little gift, he turned up at the agreed time, feeling like an excited little boy, all hot and frisky with emotion. Indeed, he spotted her in the back of one of the rooms, sitting on the floor on special large pillows, leaning against the wall with a volume in her hand, bookcases all around her.

She had chosen a place where they would not be seen.

She flinched at the sight of him, her shoulders raised in a defensive gesture, as if frightened by his presence.

"Hi." He mouthed, not knowing what more he could say, his heart pounding like mad.

She blinked and sighed loudly, as if trying to calm herself, her gaze at once warm and watchful.

"Hi."

He walked slowly over to her and pulled off his jacket, laying it on the windowsill, sitting down next to her on one of the cushions, into which he literally sank because of how soft it was.

"I brought you my notes from first year. Read them, if you can't decipher something, I'll try to guess what I wrote. They'll come in handy for you before semester exams." She said immediately, as if afraid of silence or what more he might say, handing him some of her notebooks.

He nodded and took them from her, pressing his lips together, seeing that she had gone back to reading her lecture without looking at him.

"Thank you." He said, unable to do anything other than stare at her, at her shiny dark hair, at her gentle face, at her long eyelashes, at her floral dress fastened at the front with big white buttons.

They were both quiet, but despite the silence, broken only by her flipping the pages, he could feel the tension between them, her figure focused and prepared to flee.

He didn't know why he did it, but he slid a little lower and laid his head on her shoulder, just as she had done back then, during that holiday, reading the book about the Mighty Vhagar with him.

He heard her swallow hard and take a deep breath as his arms tentatively embraced her at the waist, cuddling into her like a small child.

He felt her twitch, her chest began to quiver as if she felt like crying. Feeling this, he stroked the side of her waist, his lips placing a gentle, reassuring kiss on her soft, fragrant skin.

"– please –" She muttered.

"– I have a gift for you –" He said, dreading what she was about to say. She involuntarily glanced at his arm as he slipped his hand into the pocket of his trousers and took out a rose-shaped lollipop.

"– I didn't know what kind of flowers you like, so I bought one like this – the sales lady said it has a strawberry flavour –" He explained and she swallowed hard, out of the corner of his eye he noticed a wide, sad smile on her face.

This sight broke his heart.

He pressed his forehead to her temple as she took it shyly from his hand, spinning it between her fingers, staring at it as if he had given her something precious, a ring or a necklace.

"I'll eat it later. I don't want to get the books dirty now. Thank you, that's very kind of you." She said softly and he nodded, his hand involuntarily from her waist rising to her face, letting his fingers run over the warm structure of her skin.

He felt her body relax slightly and they both let their bodies lean back a little, spreading out more comfortably on the large, soft pillows. He swallowed hard as she pressed her head against the hollow of his neck, as her hand lay uncertainly on the spot where his heart was beating.

He locked her in his embrace, kissing lazily the top of her head, feeling that he was completely hard, that he wanted her more than ever, knowing that he couldn't have her now, that he might never feel her like this again, but it didn't matter anymore.

She was with him, in his arms.

"Several of my father's men are dead. They were shot on your grandfather's orders." She whispered, and he swallowed hard, looking up at the ceiling, playing involuntarily with the curls of her hair between his fingers.

"I know."

"Did you have anything to do with it?"

"No. My grandfather restricted my field of action after we called the emergency services when you…"

He didn't finish and closed his eyes, seeing her again in the bathtub filled with blood.

They were both silent for a moment, taking comfort from their closeness – her hand ran over his sternum, making a pleasant shiver pass through his body.

"If your grandfather tells you to kill Daemon or my brother. What will you do then?" She asked quietly in a trembling voice.

"I will tell him to do it himself. The times when I was his dog are over and he knows it. He has no idea what to do with me. I'm out of his control." He sneered, sighing heavily, feeling suddenly tired and weary. His niece twisted and raised herself up on her elbow, looking at him with concern.

"What's your plan?" She asked, and he hummed under his breath, sliding his fingers from her neck between her breasts, playing with the buttons of her dress.

"I want to start acting on my own." He said cautiously, watching her reaction carefully. He saw that she tensed all over, looking at him warily.

"What do you mean?"

"If you think there's a way I could escape this world, you're wrong. Even Daemon didn't escaped it, he simply gathered his most trusted people and expanded his influence. I want to do the same, and I will start by taking over Heavenly Beach. Since Larys is dead, chaos has reigned there, and I intend to take advantage of it. Many of my grandfather's people don't like the vision of them having to work for Aegon in the future. They neither respect nor fear him." He said lightly with some kind of pride and mockery, running his fingers up and down her sternum with a smirk.

She had a penknife under her bra.

She shuddered and swallowed hard as he tapped his finger on the spot where his watchful gaze had spotted its shape, pretending he hadn't meant to keep his hand on her breast at all.

"– wise girl –"

"What do you intend to do with my step-father?" She asked in a trembling voice.

He hummed under his breath, looking curiously at her chest, slowly cupping her plump breast in his fingers, thinking how wonderfully it fit the shape of his hand.

"Nothing. I won't attack him first. For you. He has nothing to do with Heavenly Beach." He said softly, spreading himself out more comfortably on the cushion, feeling a pleasant warmth in his belly at the sight of her hand clamping down on his wrist, as if she wanted to simultaneously push him away and draw him to her at the same time.

"– stop – someone will see –" She muttered, looking around quickly to make sure they were still alone in the room.

"I want it back." He whispered. "I want what we had during that summer."

He heard her swallow hard, shocked by his confession.

"I…God, after all, you know it won't work. We can't. No one will accept it, no one will understand. We'll be miserable again." She mumbled pleadingly, feeling his hand move from her breast to her neck, burying itself in her warm, bare skin, her cheeks pink with emotion, her gaze hot and hazy.

"If you don't want it, I'll understand it. What I desire is fucked up, like my whole person. But I want you to know that what happened between us… then, when my father died. It was real. I've never felt more alive and fulfilled than then, being deep inside you. You were so warm." He said, brushing her soft face with his thumb, looking at her beautiful, puffy lips, the taste of which he longed to feel again so much.

"Aemond." She mumbled in embarrassment.

"I don't care how wrong it is. I don't care about morality. I've done far less moral things to other people. Making love to my niece seems to me the smallest of my sins." He confessed, burying his fingers in her smooth, dark hair, the tips of their noses touched as he made her lean towards him.

"Someone might say it's disgusting and wrong, but I only care about what you want. I don't give a shit about others. What they will think of me, whether I live by their rules or not. What can they do to me? Mock me? Fear me? They are already do. It's not about me, it's about you. I don't want to ruin your life." He said, shaking his head, watching her reaction, her eyes grew wide with shock, her lips parted in heavy, deep breaths.

The sight of her bursting into silent, helpless sobs broke his heart: his mouth began to place quick, lingering, loud kisses on her beautiful, rosy face, all swollen with tears.

"– please – please, I don't want you to cry because of me –" He muttered in pain, feeling his voice tremble with emotion, stroking affectionately her head and neck.

He pulled her body closer to him, wanting to embrace her, protect her, hide her from the pain that tormented her so much.

"This is just too much. I wish I could be a child again. To go back to that sea. To fall asleep next to you in that room. I wish I could feel again the peace I felt then. Your presence next to me. But I can't have it." She mouthed, choking on her own tears, making him press his lips together in pain.

"You have it. You have me. You always had."

She froze, looking at him with a hot, hazy look that made him want to take her in the middle of the library.

However, he decided that he wanted and should do something completely different.

"Do you like me?" He asked as one of his hands ran up and down her bare thigh, while the other was slowly stroking her head. She looked at him in silence for a moment and nodded uncertainly, trying to calm herself down.

He thought she looked like a small, terrified child.

"Very much?" He continued and she nodded again, breathing loudly through her mouth.

He smiled involuntarily, cupping her cheek, hot with emotion, in his hand.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

Her eyes got big, her eyebrows raised high as she gasped loudly, shocked by his question.

"This time I'm aware of what I'm asking for. What I want. And although I should, I'm not ashamed of it. I have wasted eight years that I could have spent with you, no matter how much we would both have suffered during that time. I want to suffer with you by my side now." He whispered, tucking an unruly strand of her hair behind her ear, looking affectionately at her beautiful, gentle face, all pink with emotion and tears.

"I wish I could trust you, but I don't know if I can." She muttered, making him feel a squeeze in his stomach.

"I know. I'll wait as long as it takes." He said, brushing her cheek with his fingers, wanting to comfort himself and her.

She nodded, sighing heavily, as if she had given up and stopped fighting.

"You can only embrace me and hold my hand. No kisses on the lips and don't try to take me." She muttered.

He chuckled under his breath, feeling as happy as a small boy, cuddling her whole body into his at last, feeling her pleasant warmth, her scent, her closeness.

"Very well." He hummed, placing a warm, gentle kiss on the tip of her nose.

He saw her frown and grinned widely, cocking his head.

"Your nose is not your lips, is it? Just as your cheeks. Your jaw. Your neck. Your shoulders." He whispered, brushing his full lips over each of the places he mentioned, leaving wet, hot marks on her bare skin. He sighed as he felt her fingers clench on his back, her soft breasts pressing into his chest.

He got his girlfriend back.

______

Author's note: When we started dating, my husband brought me bouquets of lollipops because I don't like cut flowers and I could at least eat this. I think it's such a sweet idea!!!

[j-k-writes]

The Bronze Targaryen - 11

Summary - War is brewing in Westeros, but Rhaenyra is determined to avoid it for as long as possible (to the frustration of her husband).

Warnings - General HOTD warnings, canon character death, minor violence between family members ((Y/N) and Daemon)

The end of season one! I'm putting this series on a bit of a hiatus while I figure out my plans for season two (thank you, Ryan Condal, for making my life miserable) but do not fret I have stories to hold y'all over in the mean time.

“What is our standing?” 

“We have thirty knights, a hundred crossbowmen, and three hundred men at arms.” Daemon spoke, “Dragonstone is relatively easy to defend but as an instrument of conquest, our army leaves much to be desired. We have sent word to my loyal men in the City Watch. I’ll have some support there but I cannot speak to the numbers.” 

“We already have declarations from Celtigar and Staunton, Massey, Darklyn, Bar Emmon.” 

“As well as Coldwater, Sheet, and Tollett.” (Y/N) turned to Rhaenyra, “Runestone stands behind you. I have no doubt Lady Arryn will as well, the Vale will not turn cloak against their own kin.” 

He watched as Rhaenyra gave him a grateful smile and placed a marker on the table. 

“Riverrun was always a close friend to your father, your grace. With Prince Daemon’s acquiescence, I’ve already sent raven to Lord Grover.” 

Both (Y/N) and Rhaenyra paused at Maester Gerardys’ words, they both looked up at the Prince. (Y/N) narrowed his eyes at his father, who did not look the least apologetic as Rhaenyra spoke, “Lord Grover is fickle and easily swayed. He will need to be convinced of the strength of our position and that we will support him should it come to war.” 

“I am going to treat with him myself.” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at his father’s boldness, watching as he and Rhaenyra glared at each other from across the room. His father had been falling into tendencies (Y/N) had hoped he’d grown out of these past days, and the new Consort was unsure how to feel about it. 

“What of Storm’s End and Winterfell?” 

“There has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath. And with House Stark the North will follow.” 

“Lord Borros Baratheon will need to be reminded of his father’s promises.” Rhaenyra said, voice tight. More markers were placed around the table, the promise of war becoming stronger and stronger with each clang against the wooden table. “What news from Driftmark?” 

“Lord Corlys sails for Dragonstone.” Rhaenys said. 

“To declare for his Queen?” (Y/N) asked. 

“The Velayron fleet is in my husband’s yoke.” (Y/N) frowned, unable to stop the hot flash of anger in his chest at her words. “He decides where they sail.” 

“We shall pray for both you and your husband's support. Just as we prayed nightly for the Sea Snake’s return to good health. There’s no port on the Narrow Sea that would dare to make an enemy of the Velaryon fleet.” Rhaenyra spoke before (Y/N) could open his mouth to speak his offense at Rhaenys’ answer. “And our enemies?” 

“We have no friends among the Lannisters. Tyland has served the hand too long to turn against him. And Otto Hightower needs the Lannister fleet.” 

“Without the Lannisters we are not like to find any allies west of the Golden Tooth.” Both (Y/N) and Rhaenyra frowned. 

“The Riverlands are essential, your Grace.” Daemon spoke. (Y/N) cringed inwardly at the knowledge that Daemon was making good points for all of his boldness and made eye contact with Rhaenyra from across the table.

“Pray forgive my bluntness, your Grace. But talk of men is moot. Your cause owns a power that not has not been seen in this world since the days of Old Valyria. Dragons.” 

“The Greens have dragons as well.” Rhaenyra responded. 

“They have three adults, by my count. We have Syrax, Vermithor-” (Y/N) winced at his father’s words, taking in a deep breath as his father continued on his rant. “-Caraxes, and Meleys. Your sons have Vermax, Arrax, and Tyraxes. Baela has Moondancer.” 

“Daemon none of our dragons have been to war.” 

(Y/N) grabbed his father’s arm, bringing him in close so that his words did not go any further than their small shared bubble. “And need I remind you, we do not have Vermithor until I am recovered.” He bit out, face hot as he spoke. 

Daemon ignored him, causing (Y/N) to throw his head back and sigh, “There are also unclaimed dragons. Seasmoke still resides on Driftmark. Silverwing dwells on the Dragonmont, still riderless. Then there are the three wild dragons, all of whom nest here.” 

“And who is to ride them?” Rhaenyra sounded as exasperated with Daemon as (Y/N) felt. 

“Dragonstone has 13 to their 4. I also have a score of eggs incubating in the Dragonmont. Now…we need a place to gather, a toehold large enough to house a sizable host. Here, at Harrenhal.” Daemon spoke, ignoring his Queen’s question. “We cut off the west, surround Kingslanding with the Dragons and we could have every Green head mounted on spikes before the fucking moon turns.” 

“Your Grace.” Ser Erryk spoke up, and (Y/N) relaxed, grateful for the interruption. “A ship has been sighted offshore. A lone galleon flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon.” 

(Y/N) straightened in his seat, grabbing his cane as his father shouted out commands to the men around them. He stood making his way toward his wife, she was frowning as Daemon exited the room flanked by guards and lords. 

“Follow him.” Rhaenyra said, “Make sure he doesn’t do anything rash.” 

“And you?” 

The smile she gave him did not reach her eyes, “Just go.”

(Y/N) kept one hand on his cane and the other on his sword as he watched Otto Hightower and his posse of Knights approach. Otto looked between (Y/N) and Daemon, chin up in the air and posture straight as the oak branch up his ass. 

“I come at the behest of the Dowager Queen Alicent, mother of King Aegon, Second of His Name, Lord and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms.” He spoke. “I’ve been directed to deliver her message only to Princess Rhaenyra. Where is the Princess?” 

Otto and his men were startled at the sound of Syrax’s screech overhead, causing (Y/N)’s lips to curve up in a smile. Syrax’s landing caused stones of the bridge to crack and fall off the side, and the she-dragon continued to growl and screech at the men as Rhaenyra dismounted and walked through the crowd. She took her place between (Y/N) and Daemon, turning to face Otto. 

“Princess Rhaenyra.” 

“I’m Queen Rhaenyra now. And you all are traitors to the realm.” Rhaenyra spat. 

Otto took her statement in stride, continuing on as if she’d never spoken. “King Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name in his wisdom and desire for peace-” (Y/N) scoffed, but yet again Otto continued on. “-is offering terms. Acknowledge Aegon as king and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne. In exchange, His Grace will confirm your possession of Dragonstone. It will pass to your trueborn son, Jacaerys, upon your death. Lucerys will be confirmed as the legitimate heir to Runestone-” 

“He is my legitimate heir.” (Y/N) stepped forward, but Rhaenyra shot her arm out, blocking his path. 

“-and all the lands and holdings of House Royce.” Otto looked smug as (Y/N) begrudgingly heeded his wife and stepped back. “Your sons Aegon and Viserys will also be given places of high honor at court: Aegon the Younger as the King’s squire, Viserys as his cupbearer. Finally, the King, in his good grace, will pardon any knight or lord who conspired against his ascent.” 

“I would rather feed my sons to the dragons than have them carry shields and cups for your drunken usurper cunt of a king.” (Y/N) said, hand flexing around his sword. 

“Aegon Targaryen sits the Iron Throne. He wears the Conqueror’s crown, wields the Conqueror’s sword, has the Conqueror’s name. He was anointed by a septon of the faith in the eyes of thousands. Every symbol of legitimacy belongs to him. And then there is Stark, Tully, Baratheon. Houses that have already received and are at present, considering generous terms from their king.” Otto spoke, causing (Y/N) to laugh. 

“Generous? You have offered us things we already have.” 

“Stark, Tully, Baratheon all swore to me when King Viserys named me his heir.” Rhaenyra said, and (Y/N) could see the anger deep inside her bubbling to the surface. 

“Stale oaths will not put you on the Iron Throne, Princess. The succession changed the day your father sired a son. I only regret that you and he were the last to see the truth of it.” 

“You are no more Hand than Aegon is king.” Rhaenyra moved toward the man before (Y/N) could have time to respond. She rushed the man, seething, grabbing the silver hand pinned on his chest. She ripped the pendant off, tossing it over the side of the bridge. “Fucking traitor.” 

Once again Otto was undisturbed by the show of anger, “Grand Maester.” 

“What the fuck is this?” He heard his father ask as Otto grabbed a folded-up piece of parchment from the Grand Maester, handing it to Rhaenyra. (Y/N) could not see Rhaenyra’s reaction from where he was standing, but his stomach turned at the sight of her angry posture softening ever so slightly as she looked at the paper. 

“Queen Alicent has not forgotten the love you once had for each other. No blood need be spilled, so the realm can carry on in peace.” Otto said softly to Rhaenyra. “Queen Alicent eagerly awaits your answer.” 

“She can have her answer now, stuffed in her father’s mouth along with his withered cock. Let’s end this mummer’s farce.” Daemon and the knights around him drew their swords, and (Y/N) smiled as Otto’s knights tensed. (Y/N) took a step forward, not bothering to draw his sword. (The scabbard was really only by his side for show, for he was practically useless with it until he could manage to bring his arm above his head without aggravating the wound in his shoulder.) “Ser Erryk, bring me Lord Hightower so I may take the pleasure myself.” 

Syrax roared, causing the stones they were standing on to shake and the men behind Otto drew their weapons in retaliation. Before anyone could make a move Rhaenyra turned on them. 

“No.” She said, and the men around him stood down. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at her, but she did not look at him as she continued. “Kingslanding will have my answer on the morrow.” 

(Y/N) gaped as Otto Hightower and his crowd of traitors walked away completely whole. Daemon huffed and puffed in frustration the whole way up to the keep, but (Y/N) paid his grumblings no mind. His shock was aimed wholly on Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra would not look at him as they walked, or limped in (Y/N)’s case, and (Y/N) feared the worst. He bit his tongue as the council resumed, sorting through his scattered thoughts before he said something rash in front of the council. 

He’d only wished his father could have the same sort of self control. 

“It’s no easy thing for a man to be a dragonslayer. But dragons can kill dragons. And have.” Daemon spoke. “The simple truth is this: we have more dragons than Aegon, even with (Y/N) recovering.” 

“Viserys spoke often of the Valyrian histories. I know them well. When dragons flew to war-” Rhaenyra sighed, “Everything burned.” 

“War has its casualties whether dragons are involved or not.” He mumbled from his seat. His voice was merely a whisper but Rhaenyra heard him anyway and shot him a subtle glare. 

“I do not wish to rule over a kingdom of ash and bone.” She said it to the room, but it was clear the words were directed to her husband and uncle. 

“Are you considering the Hightowers’ terms, your Grace?” (Y/N) straightened to attention as Lord Bartimos asked the question at the forefront of his mind, on everyone's mind, apparently. 

“As Queen, what is my true duty to the realm, Lord Bartimos? Ensuring peace and unity? Or that I sit the Iron Throne, no matter the cost?” (Y/N) sighed at her words, frustration building as Daemon responded. 

“That’s your father talking.” 

“My father’s dead. And he chose me as his successor. To defend the realm, not cast it headlong into war.” 

“They have already declared war, Rhaenrya.” (Y/N) could not help the bite in his words. His frustration and exhaustion finally boiling over despite his attempts at holding it down until he and Rhaenyra were in private. 

“Clear the room.” The lords looked between the two warily but they left without complaints. As soon as the door shut behind the last lord Rhaenyra rounded on (Y/N), practically sneering. “Does the promise of war excite you?” 

“I just ended one war, Rhaenyra. My last wish is to start another, but you cannot bend the knee to the Hightowers.” (Y/N) sighed, collapsing into his chair. The action brought attention to the wound in his shoulder, and he swallowed a groan of pain. He was dreading this war, but he was not going to sit in denial. Unless they were to take the Hightower’s terms, and (Y/N) would die before he let that happen, war was inevitable. 

“If you could take the Iron Throne without putting Otto Hightower’s head on a spike, would you?” (Y/N) could not help but scoff at her question. 

“Are you not angry?” 

“I should declare war because I’m angry?” 

“No.” (Y/N) said between gritted teeth, “Because it’s your duty as Queen to crush rebellion.” 

“My oath reaches beyond our personal ambitions.” Did she not understand? How could she not understand what this slight meant for their family? 

“Personal ambitions? Rhaenyra this is your birthright and they have stolen it from you the same way they tried to steal it from Luke. To bend the knee now-” 

“Shut up and listen to me. You are acting like your father.” (Y/N)’s mouth shut with a click, his words dying on his tongue. Rhaenyra continued on, ignoring the rising anger in her husband. “My father told me something when he named me heir, The Conqueror’s Dream.” 

“A dream?” (Y/N) scoffed, but Rhaenyra ignored him. 

“A Song of Ice and Fire, a coming war against the darkness in the North. The realm must be united if it is to survive, so you must understand why I am so reluctant to plunge it into war.” She spoke with such certainty that (Y/N) almost wanted to concede to her. 

Almost. “You are in denial, Rhaenyra.” He said, forcing his voice level. He was not his father and he would not take his frustration out on his wife, even if she was part of its origin. “There is to be a war over this. I do not want it, but I have accepted it and so should you.”

(Y/N) felt himself drifting off in his chair as the lords argued around him, barely letting Rhaenyra get a word in. His body throbbed, a few new bruises added onto them courtesy of his father’s drunken anger. 

He’d sought the man out last night, too keyed up from his argument with Rhaenyra to go to their bedroom. He’d knocked on Daemon’s door hoping to drown in the wine his father no doubt had already brought up from the kitchens. Instead he’d found himself thrown into the wall after a particularly nasty screaming match that had multiple guards running into the room.  

One snide comment about Rhaenyra's choices was all it had taken for (Y/N)’s already simmering anger to rise to the surface. Rhaenyra could frustrate them both to the grave, but she was still their Queen, and Daemon needed to give her his respect, especially in the presence of the other lords.

His father had not seen it that way. 

“The Lord of the Tides, Lord Corlys Velaryon, and his wife, the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.” (Y/N) snapped to attention at the sound of Ser Eyrrk’s voice. 

“My lords.” Lord Corlys nodded to the lords around them as he limped down the steps and toward Rhaenyra. He looked well despite his injuries although the grimace he gave with every step betrayed just how healed he truly was. 

“Lord Corlys. It brings much relief to see you hale and healthy again. I extend my deepest condolences for the loss of your son, and heir.” Rhaenyra said. 

“I’m very sorry about your father, Princess. He was a good man.” Corlys looked around the room, gaze falling on (Y/N) for a moment before he spoke again. “Where is Daemon?” 

“There were other concerns which demanded my father’s attention.” (Y/N) responded, and Rhaenyra pursed her lips, having heard about these other concerns from a concerned guard the night before. She had not been happy at his father’s regressions in anger management, even less so with his decision to take his frustrations out on his already injured son. 

Corlys hummed, obviously too familiar with Daemon’s temper. “Your declared allies?” 

“Yes.” 

“Too few to win a war for the throne.” 

“Well, we would also hope to have the support of Houses Arryn, Baratheon, and Stark.” 

“Hope is the fool’s ally.” (Y/N) frowned at the Sea Snake’s words, the lord of the tides was correct in his statement but that did not mean (Y/N) had to appreciate the sentiment. 

“House Arryn shares blood with my house, but all of them swore oaths to me.” Rhaenyra was losing her patience. 

“As did House Hightower, if I remember.�� 

“As did you, Lord Corlys.” 

The room went silent at Rhaenyra’s statement, but (Y/N) simply smiled. He hid his soft laugh behind his hand turning in his chair to get a better view of Lord Corlys as the Lord seemed to ponder her unspoken question. 

‘To who are you loyal to?’ 

“Your father’s realm was one of justice and honor. Our houses are bound by common blood and common cause. This Hightower treason cannot stand. You have the full support of our fleet and House, your Grace.” Lord Corlys bowed his head to Rhaenyra who sputtered. She recovered quickly, turning to look at Rhaenys who simply nodded with a smile. 

“You honor me, Lord Corlys, Princess Rhaenys.” She straightened, letting her demeanor shift back to that of Queen. “But, as I said to my bannermen, I made a promise to my father to hold the realm strong and united. If war’s first stroke is to fall, it will not be by my hand.” 

“You do not mean to act?” 

“Taking caution does not mean standing fast.” Rhaenyra shot him a subtle yet harsh look as she spoke. “I wish to know who my allies are before I send them to war.” 

“The consequence of Laenor’s sacrifice and my near-demise in the Stepstones is that we now control them. I took care to fully garrison the territory this time. A total blockade of the shipping lanes will be in place in days, if not already. The Triarchy have been routed. The Narrow Sea is ours. If we further seal the gullet we can cut off all seaborne travel and trade to Kingslanding.” The mood of the room immediately brightened at Corlys’ words. 

“I shall take Meleys and patrol the Gullet myself.” 

“When we drain the Narrow Sea, we can surround Kingslanding, lay siege to the Red Keep, and force the Greens’ surrender.” 

(Y/N) smiled at the sudden mood change amongst the lords of their council. Rhaenyra herself was not immune to the feeling and (Y/N) watched as her mouth curved up in a small smile as she watched the room. “If we are to have enough swords to surround Kingslanding, we must first secure the support of Winterfell, the Eyrie, and Storm’s End.” 

“I’ll prepare the ravens, your Grace.” Maester Gerardys moved to leave the room but Jace interrupted before he could. 

“We should bear those messages.” Everyone turned to look at the young prince. “Dragons can fly faster than ravens and they’re more convincing. Send us.” 

(Y/N) smiled at his son, “He’s right.” 

“Very well.” Rhaenyra caught his eye from across the table and smiled. “Prince Jacaerys will fly north. First to the Eyrie, to see my mother’s cousin and his father’s liege Lady, the Lady Jeyne Arryn, and then to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm’s End and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon. We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore. And the cost of breaking them.”

The gods, old and new, gave him no warning that day. There was no warning, no omen, for him to heed as they said their goodbyes. As he looks back on that day he wonders what he would have done differently if there had been. 

“It's been said that as Targaryens, we are closer to gods than to men. And the Iron Throne puts us a touch closer, perhaps. But, if we are to serve the Seven Kingdoms we must answer to their gods.” Rhaenyra spoke. “If you take this errand, you go as messenger not as warriors. You must take no part in any fighting. Swear it to me now.” 

“Under the eyes of the old and new gods.” (Y/N) added as the book was presented to his sons, and Jace smiled at the obvious disdain in which (Y/N) regarded The Seven. (Y/N) looked over his boys as they swore, locking eyes with their mother as they did so. Jace was as confident as (Y/N) had expected a boy of his age to be. He was still green and eager to prove himself to the realm. 

“Thank you.” Rhaenyra turned to Jace. “Cregan Stark is closer to your age than to mine. I would hope, that as men, you can find some common interest.” 

“The North follows the Old Gods as House Royce does, Jace.” (Y/N) added, smiling. “Do with that what you will.” 

Jace smiled back at him, head held high. “Yes, your Grace.” 

Luke was less confident, which brought a small frown to (Y/N)’s face. He did not comment on it, remembering himself when he first began to fall under the pressure and critique of the court. Luke was younger than he was when Rhea died, and Daemon brought him to Kingslanding, and he no doubt felt more pressure than (Y/N) could have imagined at his age. 

“Storm’s End is a short flight from here. Lord Borros is an eternally proud man. He will be honored to host a prince of the realm and his dragon. I expect you will receive a very warm welcome.” 

“Yes, Mother- your Grace.” Luke stumbled, and (Y/N) gave him a reassuring smile. 

He touched his shoulder gently, bringing his voice to a whisper so that only Luke could hear him. “Do not worry, tresy. You are simply going to remind Lord Borros of his oath, if you cannot convince him he is already lost to us.” 

Luke nodded, and (Y/N) kissed his head. He grabbed Jace next, who only gave a small protest as his father laughed and kissed his cheek. All three Royce’s turned to look at their Queen who nodded. 

“Go to it then.” 

(Y/N) had not thought to be worried as he watched his eldest sons fly off. It was only a few days later, when they received a raven assuring them of Jace’s safe arrival in the Vale, that (Y/N) began to worry about his younger son, and even then, he brushed it off. He told himself that perhaps Luke had just forgotten to write, and he did not know Lord Borros, but he would not put it past the man to not bother sending a raven. Rhaenyra began to worry immediately, watching the sky at every opportunity as if Luke would suddenly appear on Arrax to assure his mother of his safety. She would not hear (Y/N)'s excuses, and months later, in his grief, (Y/N) realized he was simply doing what he had yelled at Rhaenyra for doing not days before. 

Living in denial. 

They were in a council meeting when Daemon received the news. (Y/N) was immediately on edge at the look on his father’s face as he took both he and Rhaenyra aside. Rhaenyra and (Y/N) watched as his father struggled to find the words, turning his body so that he did not have to look at them as he spoke. 

(Y/N) did not need Daemon to speak to know what the raven had said. 

He vaguely remembers Rhaenyra’s gasp as Daemon finally got the words out. She turned away from both men as she processed the words, doubling over and clutching her stomach, sobs began to rack her body. (Y/N) stumbled as the voices in the room faded from him and his vision tunneled, Daemon reached to steady him but (Y/N) pushed his father away. He threw his cane across the room with a shout as the tears began to fall. His hands met the council table with a loud slam and he swept the nearest items off the table. The clatter of the items meeting the stone floor was not loud enough to drown out his curses and pleading words. 

His father approached him when his body finally gave up on him, his legs unable to support his weight without his cane to steady him. He held him up, pulling him close to his chest. As (Y/N) sobbed, fists pounding against his father’s chest, Daemon leaned in close. 

“An eye for an eye, a son for a son.” Daemon cupped his cheeks, forcing (Y/N) to look at him through his tears. “Your son will be avenged.”

---

Translations -

Tresy - son

[averagewriter-inthedark]

A Golden Rose 🌼 | Alicent Hightower Headcanon

GOT/HOTD Masterlist

Alicent Hightower having a secret relationship with the daughter of Lord Tyrell would involve:

Becoming a lady-in-waiting to the young queen early on in her marriage to King Viserys after you were sent to King's Landing upon the request of his Grace. Leaving the Reach and your family for the capitol, where you would remain indefinity. You'd only been in the proximity to the royal couple once on the day of their wedding, though you never exchanged words. It came as a surprise when two years later at ten and seven the raven arrived to accompany the Queen as she nears the end of her term. Pending the birth of her second child.  

It was pretty much love at first sight for Alicent, who was drawn to your beauty and personality. The sharp wit and charm of a Tyrell, you had her a blushing mess nearly every day. Alicent requesting your company more often rather than all her ladies. Pretty much leaving them to the winds. You didn't mind. In fact, you relished in the attention. 

You clocked onto her affections early on, not blind to her lingering gazes, soft smiles, and how her eyes drew to you each time she entered a room. Walking closely beside you, while the other ladies trailed behind. It only took four months for you to confront her, as you developed strong feelings for the Queen and no longer had the strength to keep them hidden. "My Queen, forgive me for speaking freely, but I cannot go another day with us not saying what we so desperately want. I know what you feel for me, and I want you to know I feel the same." 

Yeah, she was a goner. Her heart soaring with happiness...and fear. Of course you two could not explore a relationship openly. She was married--to the damn King! And you were a lady-in-waiting expected to marry a nobleman or knight. If anyone found out about your relations, you'd be exiled or facing the sword. Alicent surely would face the King's wrath, and neither of you wanted to picture that. 

So, you both did what you had to do: you loved in secret. Behind closed doors and wondering eyes. Gifts of sentiments on namedays, brushing hands when passing teacups, seeking one out in a crowded room, walks in the garden. Anonymous notes of admiration, kisses at night when the Keep was asleep. Reading to each other in the library, picking flowers to put in the other's hair. Saving sweets from lunch and supper to share later on in your chambers. And on most nights, you'd run your fingers through Alicent's soft hair to lull her to sleep.

The love you shared blossomed like the golden rose that represented your house. Growing stronger by the years. You and Alicent had the biggest secret in all of Westeros. One you would go to war to protect. 

Viserys was always occupied with King duties and entertaining his council to see what his wife was up to. Otto kept a close eye, and you often felt his suspicious gaze on you at events, but never once did he comment. Though you'd never admit it to Alicent, you were grateful when he was dismissed as Hand. It was one less person you had to worry about. The maids and guards turned a blind eye, all except Criston Cole. Once he became Alicent's sworn protector, he followed you two like a dog on a leash. And when he did catch you two in a compromising position roughly a year after she had Aemond, Alicent made him swear on his life to be silent. 

Rhaenyra was....complicated. For one you knew of her friendship with Alicent prior to her marriage to the King, and the love they shared for each other. Admittedly, you were slightly jealous, but got over it once Alicent assured you she no longer harbored those affections for the Princess. Still, you were not Rhaenyra's biggest fan. Her behavior and comments toward Alicent had you fuming, but you remained calm in the presence of others. Once she finally married and had children you were pleased.

Speaking of children, you were close to Alicent's sons and daughter, despite hating Viserys for putting her through four pregnancies and treating her like a broodmare after what he did to Queen Aemma. The resentment towards the King only heightened when he seemed to forget about the children he sired, preferring Rhaenyra and her sons. Daeron was sent to Oldtown young, leaving the older three, who you helped Alicent raise.

As the children grew up, they were not blind to your relationship. Why their mother always broke fast with you and invited you to the table at supper. Why she asked for your opinion on certain things. How she ordered golden roses to be planted in the gardens of the Keep on your 19th nameday when you mentioned feeling homesick. The fact there was always your favorite pastries at banquets. And when she went to light a candle in the sept, you were right there with her. You were dressed in the finest silks compared to the other ladies-in-waiting. 

Where they confused in the beginning? of course they were. They didn't understand why their mother was more devoted to you than their father. Why Alicent's eyes sparked when looking at you, much like when she looked at them, instead of the King. But they never once spoke of it. Understanding there was a deep affection between the two of you that the realm would never accept. 

Yet when the dragons danced years later as the kingdom split between Greens and Blacks, the history books would write about the Hightower that bloomed with golden roses. Why Highgarden did not hesitate to raise their banners in support of King Aegon II Targaryen. Covering the southern lands that would further weaken Rhaenyra's defense. Making the Princess and her council realize their mistake of undermining the influence you had on the Alicent.

For a rose is so beautiful to the eye, one forgets about its thorns.

[lya-dustin]

Kinslayer, Kingslayer, King

For @hoosbandewan

Aemond x Aegon’s wife! Laenor's daughter!reader(aka a black reader)

Cw: murder, fraticide, regicide, conspiracy, manipulation, infanticide(blood and cheese happened sorry), revenge, whatever murdering your husband is called. Some smut and knife play.

The reader came out rather evil and i love it

You play the dutiful wife all too well.

How could you not when you pretended to be the loyal daughter only to turn on the woman who birthed you for a crown?

Rhaenyra had deserved it, she killed your father to be with Daemon and then named your bastard brother heir over you, her only trueborn child and firstborn. Then there was what she allowed Daemon to do to your only child that night.

Aegon deserved it too, he never knew the woman he had and now he wouldn’t have you nor his crown either. Aegon who took everything for granted and then some more. He had taken you even if Aemond was the one you loved since you were children.

As far as you know, Aegon was the one who killed Rhaenys at Rook’s Rest.

Aemond will finally have what was owed to him.

“It looks better on you than it did, who would’ve thought Aegon’s head would be too small for such a burden.” You whisper as you light a candle to the Stranger.

Orwyle is too vigilant and good at his craft to allow the two of you the chance to finish the job, but nature will take its course soon enough. The moment he is dead, Aemond will seize the crown and you will be his in truth.

Once Aegon is dealt with and his mother put away to keep her from interfering with your glorious reign, you will rain fire and blood on your darling mother and her husband.

Jaehaerys had been killed by Daemon just as he once ordered the death of your father, Ser Laenor. Aemond wonders if Daemon knew the true parentage of the boy seeing he went after him in the first place. Perhaps the man did and that is why your sweet little son was beheaded in his sleep along with his nurse.

You want blood and to salt their wounds as they beg for mercy you will not give.

Aemond will give you another son, one who will not have Aegon named as his father, one that will be king after him. You have always wanted to name your son Aemon. A tribute to your grandmother, to your lineage, and most importantly a reminder that your claim was superior even to that of his dearly departed father.

Viserys and Aegon ruled because of the Great Council, but by tradition the throne should have passed to you had Rhaenys not been passed over for his father.

“Once your mourning period is over, we will be wed and crowned together. Grandsire should’ve have crowned you with him, those loyal to you would have come to our side and your mother left with no choice to surrender.” Aemond will keep this promise, he will not deny you what you are owed. Aegon had not cared about the insult to you, he never cared to respect you and keep his vows and always caved to their manipulative grandfather’s pressures.

Aemond was not weak like him, he rode the largest dragon, he was the true threat to your mother’s crumbling rule and his brother’s underserved crown.

His mother may hate him, but he had you. You who shared his drive and anger and loved him to his bones.

You forgave him for killing your brother, you understood it was an accident in his part, you will forgive him for killing Rhaenys to kill his brother.

“Six moons is too long, my love, I want to wed you now.” You kissed him with great passion, your loss had ignited a fire inside you so hot you no longer knew what to do with it. “I want a son; I need your seed to take once more. Daemon may have won the battle, but I will win this fucking war.”

“No, my darling, we will win this fucking war.” The Prince Regent does not deny you your desires and in the hour of the Wolf you threaten the handmaiden caring for Aegon that night to make his poppy milk strong enough to fell an elephant.

By morning you are a widow, by noon his mother is sent to Oldtown and by the end of the week the two of you are wedded and bedded.

You do not wear black or green, you wear red. Blood red and cut so low it was considered too scandalous for his pious mother. But no matter, those who speak against you will have to voice their complaints with your dragons, and your new husband was the most fearsome of the three.

The fear they have of the two of you keeps tongues from wagging, his mother looks horrified as you lick the dagger he feeds you the best of his plate like a brazen whore.

Alicent’s rule was over, yours had only just begun.

“A dragon cannot change it’s scales,” you use his own dagger to tease him, straddling him and riding him with a torturous pace.

“It is merely our nature.” The new king groans as the cold of the dagger trailing down his throat heightens his own pleasure. He wanted to take his time with you, but your wickedness knows no limits as you push him to the brink of madness.

Aemond is still lost in the haze of his climax, still sheathed inside you as he fills you with his seed, when his own dagger is stabbed into his black heart.

The last words he hears as he dies are, “Did you think I did not know who killed my grandmother, dear husband? Did you think I truly forgave you for killing my little brother and getting our baby boy murdered, sweet boy?

When i said I would win the war, i meant I, alone, would rule."

sequel: The Cruel

[aphroditelovesu]

[🖤] - ''I don't want to force you to be mine, but I will if I have to.’’ + 💔] - ‘’You can't leave me. You will not leave me.’’ For Rhaenyra Drabble after her wife (reader) who while normally happy in their marriage starts to get tired and starts talking back to her after Rhaenyra basically imprisons the reader because she was paranoid about reader cheating on her?

[🖤] - ''I don't want to force you to be mine, but I will if I have to.’’

[💔] - ‘’You can't leave me. You will not leave me.’’

❝ 🐉 — lady l: this ended up becoming more than a drabble but I got carried away... I hope you like it, anon, and forgive me for any mistakes! Good reading! ❤️

❝tw: accusation of betrayal, mention of death, mourning, imprisonment and angst.

❝🐉pairing: yandere!rhaenyra targaryen x female!reader.

❝word count: 1,143.

You felt like a damn prisoner and maybe you really were.

Rhaenyra has become increasingly unstable and possessive over you and she has practically imprisoned you in her room, with only a few servants having access to you.

The reason for all this? She thought you were cheating on her, which was completely ridiculous. You weren't cheating on her and it never crossed your mind to do so.

You valued your life and loved Rhaenyra too much to even think about having a lover. You love her, don't you? You were sure you did it but after she locked you in, you weren't so sure anymore.

''I don't want to force you to be mine, but I will if have to.'' Her words still echoed in your mind and you only realized their weight when she finally lost her head after you spoke against her. The memories of that night were painful and you could still feel Rhaenyra's touch on your skin like fire.

Trapped in that golden cage, you stared at the richly decorated walls of her room, feeling increasingly suffocated. It was a luxury that became a prison, and every exquisite detail now seemed a cruel reminder of her situation.

The days passed slowly, with the routine of servants coming and going, bringing meals and clean clothes. They never exchanged more than a few words with you, and their expressions were always neutral. You wondered if they knew about your suspicions or if they simply followed orders blindly without question.

Rhaenyra visited you often, but your conversations were tense. You could see the paranoia in her eyes, a dark shadow that seemed to grow with each encounter. She asked questions, sometimes calmly and sometimes desperately, trying to get a confession out of you that wasn't there. Each denial from you seemed to fuel even more suspicion in her.

During these visits, you tried to calm her fears, reaffirming your love and fidelity, but your words seemed to lose strength with each repetition. Uncertainty grew inside you, not only about your feelings for her, but also about the future of this relationship that previously seemed so solid.

There were moments of silence, where you just looked at each other, lost in your own thoughts. At those times, you wondered what had happened to the woman you loved, the one who was strong, confident and fair. Now, she was a shadow of her former self, consumed by an irrational fear that was destroying her and you along with it.

You knew that Lucerys' death and the start of the war had affected her even more and you understood. You really did and you couldn't blame you for that. Although you didn't have children of your own, you loved hers as if they were your own and you were also grieving the loss of Luke but nothing justified Rhaenyra's accusations and her actions towards you. You knew it all came from her fear of losing you but that didn't make it any less painful.

The loss of Lucerys was a devastating blow to everyone. Rhaenyra has never been the same since that day. You clearly remembered the moment the news arrived. Her scream of pain still echoed in your mind, and you had felt a deep sadness as you watched the woman you loved fall apart. You tried to be as supportive as possible, to be by her side in every moment of pain, but it was as if an invisible barrier had risen between you.

Rhaenyra had become increasingly vigilant and suspicious. At first, you thought it was just grief manifesting itself in unexpected ways, but as time passed, her obsession grew. She began to question every one of your actions, every word spoken and even the moments of silence. At first, you responded with patience, believing that she would eventually get over it. However, her accusations became more frequent and fierce, culminating in your forced imprisonment.

You tried to justify her behavior to yourself. The coming war, the loss of her son, the constant pressure of claiming the throne and keeping the family together... It was all a crushing burden. And yet, in your most lucid moments, you knew you didn't deserve to be treated this way. Your love and loyalty were never in question. Rhaenyra's fear of losing someone else close to her was understandable, but it could not be a reason to imprison.

When Rhaenyra came to visit you, you decided you had had enough. You needed to make her see reason.

She entered the room, as always, with an expression full of distrust and pain. Her eyes, once so full of life, were now opaque, marked by sadness and fear. She approached you, her steps heavy and her gaze fixed on your eyes, as if she was looking for some confirmation of her fears. And when she noticed something in your gaze, perhaps the determination to get out of this situation, her face became furious and you could see her lips trembling.

''Rhaenyra, I never wanted to leave you. I never wanted to hurt you.'' You said, desperation evident in every word.

You took a deep breath, feeling the pain of the situation that was becoming increasingly untenable. Rhaenyra was mired in her own insecurities, and you knew you needed to break that cycle of fear and distrust. ''Rhaenyra, I love you. You need trust me. We are losing something precious in all of this.''

She remained silent, her eyes fixed on yours, as if she was trying to find something in your gaze that could ease her pain. There was a heavy silence, full of unspoken emotions, promises and fears.

You continued, your voice firmer, trying to reach the woman you loved. ''I'm not cheating on you. I will not leave you. We need to find a way to get through this together, before we completely destroy ourselves.''

The minutes passed, and the silence between you was deafening. Rhaenyra seemed to be fighting her own demons, insecurity and fear intertwining in her mind. You knew it was a crucial moment, an opportunity to salvage what was left of your relationship.

Finally, her voice breaking, she whispered, ''You can't leave me. You will not leave me.''

Your heart sank at her words. Rhaenyra was in shambles, and you knew you needed to act carefully, with love and patience. In a calm, low voice, you spoke, ''I am here, Rhaenyra. Let's find a way out of this together. I promise.''

There was a small spark of hope in her eyes, a spark that maybe, just maybe, could be the basis for rebuilding what had been lost. You approached her, reaching out your hand, trying to reach that piece of hope that still shined amidst the darkness.

Perhaps you could bring reason back to Rhaenyra.