#old girl vhagar
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quinntamsin · 2 years ago
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They were aboard ship when the Raven came zipping above a swell and nearly collided with their Maester. His graying hair was dusted with spray as he glanced at the two ladies watching the bird in his hands. Removing the small note on its leg he sighed. "Lord Lucerys, Heir to High Tide, has been slain by Aemond," he replied and displayed the Black Dragon of Dragonstone. "i knew the Andals would do this!" Qwynn growled. Her wife leaned against her as the two women eyed the sky above them. "We need to settle in to our Holdfast and prepare. If this war burns the south they may call the northern banners," Denna said to her wife's ear. "Yes, and when they do, the Banshee of Ceallach will spear their riders from the Sky," Qwynn said grimly. --- Wow, so this is long time coming, but I have been sitting on my reactions to House of the Dragonf or the better part of two weeks. A mix of depression and watching my niece has slowed my words. I've also been pushing for a new fanfic to get finished up so I'm tired these days. Drained of a lot of my primary muse. IRL I have a customer-facing job which for someone like me is really exhausting social and mentally. And returning later in the night to recover can result in little time. Now that we are back though lets do this review! The Ugly This series did not hold back on the violence against LGBT. We knew that a lot of people were going to die. But I really can say that some of it has left a bad taste in my mouth more than a few times. Now, as I think about it though I would say the ending scene of Queen Aemma's death to me really set te tone for the brutality of this entire season. Maybe, it's my bitterness for how they ended GoT and how the showrunners of that show ruined Dany. Who knows. I'd sai the one thing I could do without in this season were the death of Ser Joffrey. A scene just depicting Criston as a total piece of shit who should have faced harder repercussions. Really, I know the guy is important but I'd rather his pretty face was you know maybe scarred up a bit more. Seriously! Onto the other person I hate, Three-Eyed Rat, Larys' brutality is beyond astounding. The scene where he orders the death of his own family was as sickening to me in some ways as the acting was superb. What made me want to just cut was that whole foot masturbation. Seriously, did we need to act such a graphic shitty scene? The Good Wow, the cast in this series has been just amazing. Paddy Considine showed us the peace and slowly dying LIvserys. Every time he was on screen he -was-  Viserys Targaryen. This was all made the better with Matt Smith as the utterly depraved and love-to-hate fuckboy, Daemon. The early parts seemed strange, but as we saw the Valyrians we were pulled in by them. These two clash in such a natural way I believed they were brothers! But one of the harder parts of this series was Milly Alcock's part of Young Rhae transitioning in Older Rae. Milly Alcock sells the sense of haughtiness one could only expect of a Targaryen Princess. The way she rides off in a huff at her father's hunt, and how she sleeps with Cole. Their young -puppy- love that rots into Criston's Incelnes was made only better as we switch to Emma D'Arcy. We see the Summer of rebelliousness sower into a woman whose been basically driven away by her own family. If the damn Hightower parts weren't so well acted this portion of the series would have been boring as fuuuuck. Counter of Milly's acting Emily Carey is a questioning and quiet girl who just wants her fund. To see her morph into Olivia Cooke's master class of the scorned friend was made me utterly hate the Greens. This is helped along by Rhys Ifans as Otto. I would say that if Otto hadn't been such a good counter to Daemon and a "Friend" to Paddy's Viserys this entire show would have flopped. Now let's get to the real power couple of this fucking series. Corlys (played by Steven Toussaint) was another Valyrian persona I wanted. Did he sell me as the Sea Snake, yes and no. In this series we see that the burning ambition of Corlys which would ruin his family. I just wish the man had more fucking options for wigs because whoever was doing his and the rest of the family DID NOT SEEM to understand that there are multiple styles of hair for POC. FFS people give the man a few different looks! Onto Rhaenys, damn, yeah she was one of the break outs of this series. Seeing her as this silent shadow in the first two episodes to evolve into a armor clad Valkjyr was -invigorating-. THIS makes me happy that she dies fucking epicly later in the series. My favorite scene is where she sits atop Meleys (Meraxes dammit) and to let the Greens live was, aweinspiring. Conclusion Okay, so I am running gout of stem on this, but House of the Dragon has definitely kinlded a renewed interest in the GoT TV verse. I was turned off by a few scenes,, but overall I'm happy with this new spinoff to the franchise. Honestly, I was turned off of the last few seasons of Game of Thrones that I refused to watch them. I ended season 7 and I fucking walked away. I said goodbye after they killed off Viserious. I've never watched anything but clips from the episodes onward. This series gives me hope that we can see more additions to the universe as GRRM pitters away on his book. I want to see animated episodes set during the Freehold. I want to watch Nymeria lead her people out of the ashes of her fallen civilization. That can only happen IF HotD does well enough for HBO to continue to greenlight things. Welp, let's see what we may get in Season 2. I need to read Fire & Blood, but I'l need to continue eating up fanfics for now! Story Idea I've decided to backburn my idea of a Dragon Riding series of short stories. I need to really absorb more ideas and theories before proceeding. I can say that I hope that the Rhae x Alicent story section grows in Ao3 and maybe some rare pairs in the ASOIAF / GoT verse grows its fandom in healthy ways!
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alicent-archive · 4 months ago
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Vhagar huffing out hot air because Aemond told her to wait BEFORE hitting the desired target is the exactly moment where the spirit of Visenya possessed her.
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francy-sketches · 2 years ago
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people will say literally anything to hate on hotd for no reason I just saw someone say the dragons in got were better. bitch they look like burnt vegetables
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percentstardust · 2 years ago
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you guys know how cats rub against you when they want attention or when you’re petting them? dragons do that. esp to show affection.
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klaus-littlestwolf · 6 months ago
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Heyy hiii I love your blog🤍 If you're still taking requests... Could you write an Aemond Targaryen who is obsessed with his half-sister or aunt?
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(Fuck yes I can!
For this story the ages are a little off which frustrates me but I did that to make sure that Y/n wouldn’t be considered ‘too old’ to marry. If however, the person who made this request wants something with an older OFC, like a cougar-y kind of story with him obsessed and willing to do anything to have her then let me know and I will try my hand at that for you)
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Y/n had been born first just before her mother Aemma had died giving birth her twin brother, who sadly died just a few hours later, leaving Y/n alone.
Rhaenyra took very good care of her, as much as she could as her younger sister was just a babe and now had no mother and no father as Viserys had all but checked out…especially after marrying Alicent and having more children.
Y/n was only just under 1 year older than Aegon as Alicent had gotten pregnant almost immediately after the wedding however as Rhaenyra was having her own children she took care of her sister less and less, leaving the girl on her own a lot of the time. Alicent had taken a liking to the young girl and they were quite close, which is what led to Y/n and Aemond’s relationship in the first place. Aemond loved Y/n from the moment he was born. When he was with her he was always content and happy, but if she left him alone he would cry and scream for her until Alicent could no longer take it and sent for her once again. That lasted until the boy was about 3 and she was 6 and from then on he was basically attached to her skirts.
Neither of the children had a dragon to their name and spent their time dreaming of flying across the 7 kingdoms together. Aemond had always promised to take his half sister with him when he mounted a dragon one day, and though Y/n thought it a nice dream, Aemond was determined to make it come true. He swore to her that one day he would be strong and that he would protect her, no one would ever bully them again. Y/n did not know just how seriously her younger brother took that vow.
He was 9 years old when Rhaenyra moved to Dragonstone and snatched his happiness away as she took their 12 year old sister with her and it was at that moment that Aemond realized how in love with his sister he really was. She would be his, no matter what he had to do to ensure it.
When they met again on Driftmark it was like no time had passed, they stayed by each others side while everyone mourned, but Aemond wasn’t sad, he was determined. With the death of Laena there was now an unclaimed dragon, the largest one alive and he was going to claim her or die trying. To say Y/n was upset that he risked his life to mount Vhagar would be an understatement however he had done it and the pride and happiness on his face wiped away her anger…for about 10 minutes before watching her nephew slice her brothers eye from his head. She held close to his side for as long as she was allowed, holding his hand as the maester stitched him up painfully.
‘I do not wish to frighten you with my scarred face sister, you shouldn’t have to see this.’ He told her later that night as she sat beside his bed to watch over him, the milk of the poppy he had taking quick effect as his good eye began to close against his wishes.
‘You could never scare me brother, you are as handsome as ever and anyone who says otherwise is blind. I will never fear you, no matter what. I love you too dearly.’ She swore, curling up into her chair and drifting off by his side in case he needed anything during the night.
Aemond’s hand held tight to hers all night long, never letting go as if terrified, even in his sleep, that she would disappear.
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Aemond was comforted by her words and it is the only thing that got him through the next years. That and the fact that he had “convinced” his sickly father to betroth Y/n to him.
Aemond was told by the men he paid to keep watch over his Princess on Dragonstone that Rhaenyra had been trying to betroth her to Cregan Stark of Winterfell. The Wolf in the North was apparently quite taken with his Princess and Aemond couldn’t blame him, but he would kill him if the man went anywhere near his sister and he made that perfectly clear to his mother and Grandsire. Aemond had vowed that if they didn’t betroth him to Y/n immediately that he would take Vhagar and have her burn Winterfell and every Stark in existence to the ground. He would melt all of the snow in the North if he had to to make his point. Both Alicent and Otto knew that her son was serious and would do exactly as he promised, they also knew that no one could stop Vhagar if Aemond decided to put his threat into action and so they had the King order the marriage.
However other than Rhaenyra acknowledging the order from the King, he heard no word from his betrothed until he was 18 and it was ordered that she return to Kings Landing to be with her soon to be husband. Aemond had kept eyes on her since the day she had been forced to leave him, men that worked for Rhaenyra were secretly under his command, 2 of which became Y/n’s personal guards and wrote the Prince everything about her so that Aemond didn’t miss a thing. He knows all of her interests, what she loves to do everyday, her daily schedule, the foods she likes and more importantly doesn’t like, and he also had them ensure that no man got close to his future wife in anyway. He knew that Jace had an interest in his aunt, the guard reporting to him that the boy had been grounded to his chambers on more than one occasion for watching her bathe or trying to sneak into her rooms in the night and it both enraged and delighted Aemond that Jace wanted his sister but also that he would have to see her happy with the person that Jace hates most. Aemond would ensure that he could rub it in his nephews face that the babes that Y/n would bare would never be anyone’s but his.
Over the years since she had been gone her brother had changed, not just at her having been missing from his side but especially after Aegons actions in taking him to the silk streets on his 13th nameday. Aemond felt disgusting but he was determined to be a better husband than his elder brother was, after all, Y/n was his. His sister, his wife, his everything and he would ensure her happiness. He would make her his and fill her with as many Targaryen babies as possible, Aemond couldn’t wait to see her swollen with his child at his side and in his bed, his elder sister was just too perfect not to be full of his children for the rest of her days.
2 days after the letter was sent to Rhaenyra he was greeted by the sound of huge wings and angry dragon roars as the large black dragon descended on the Red Keep, a dragon that everyone recognized instantly which prompted them scattering like mice. Aemond had heard that his sister had mounted the cannibalistic dragon but to actually see the creature was incredible. He found it funny that his sister, who was a loner with a tendency to be aggressive ended up with the aggressive loner dragon who would have burned anyone else to dust…he must feel how similar they are, honestly it was a fairly perfect fit if you asked him. Though he could have done without the teeth bore in his face from this scarred beast.
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He got as close as he dared, watching as a beautiful women slid down the dragons neck to her feet, the dragon nuzzling her and nearly knocking her from her feet (though the gesture was gentle for such a giant dragon who had to be just slightly bigger than Caraxes) before he took to the skies again and left her to look around the courtyard.
She was a vision, more than Aemond could have imagined after all these years without her and as she turned to see him for the first time, the smile that lit up her face gave him butterflies. ‘Aemond? Wow! Look how you’ve grown, you are certainly not that little boy I remember anymore, you are a man grown! Look at this handsome face!’ Aemond took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles in greeting, unable to look away from her perfect purple eyes.
‘You are a vision, more beautiful than I could have imagined…and I have imagined for years.’ Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as she blushed and he held his arm out for her to take. ‘Come, I will show you to your chambers and you can freshen up, I know you must want out of your riding clothes-‘
‘Actually…I had hoped we could go riding together like we always promised we would. My sister would not let me come to Kings Landing before now but you did swear to take me on Vhagar when I returned.’ She reminded him as he guided her through the halls of the castle.
‘I could never forget my promise to you, however we will not be permitted to disappear together the night before our wedding, it would be improper after all.’ He teased making her roll her eyes with a smile.
‘Right because riding a 10 ton scaly lizard into the night is definitely a romantic evening.’ She paused after saying that before speaking again. ‘Actually, never mind, for a Targaryen that has to be the most romantic night possible. We’ll save it for tomorrow night.’
‘As you wish sister. Here is your chamber for the night, tomorrow night your things will be moved into one of our own. You change and get comfortable, I will return in a half an hour and we can take a walk in the gardens, how does that sound?’
‘That sounds lovely brother. I look forward to it.’ Aemond leaned down and pressed his lips to her hand like the gentleman he was, watching once again as her face grew pink and he loved her sweet blush, vowing to make it happen as often as possible.
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The wedding that next evening was a huge affair. Everyone was present, members of every house in attendance for the event, and even all of the peasants celebrated as they left the Sept, throwing flowers and cheering their congratulations as they had all loved Y/n since the moment she was presented to the world as a baby (often ordering the gold cloaks to feed the poor, especially the children in need). Rhaenyra and Daemon had shown up with the children late, clearly hating being there for a marriage they didn’t want and Aemond couldn’t help but silently gloat to Jace who glared at him all through dinner. As they locked eyes Aemond could not resist giving in to his petty attitude, leaning down and touching his lips to his wife’s and enjoying the feel of her lips pressing against his in return as she clearly enjoyed the show of affection. His nephew glared harder at him before eventually taking Helaena’s hand and bringing her to dance as if trying to anger the One-Eyed Prince but nothing could do that right now, not now that Aemond has everything he’s ever wanted.
‘Would you like to retire now my beautiful wife? I want to make this marriage official before one of the dozens of men here that are jealously staring, attempts to steal you away from me.’
‘As if anyone else could take my attention away from you.’ At that moment there was suddenly the sound of several women screaming and they both turned to see that right in front of the Kings table Jace was locked in a physical fight with a man on the dance floor. Aemond turned his wife’s body away and pulled her to his chest to shield her, not wanting her innocent eyes to see such violence. Even if he enjoyed watching Jace get hurt he knew that his wife would never be the same if she was forced to potentially witness him die and he loved her innocence too much to let that be ruined. The guards pulled the man out of the hall and most likely to the Black Cells after Daemon had saved Jace from being butchered, following along with a rage filled Rhaenyra to question the man. Y/n pulled away from her husband and moved to the floor, inspecting her nephews face and Aemond nearly growled as Jace leaned into the affection. ‘Are you alright nephew?!’
‘Yes, of course, I am fine. I had it under con-‘
‘Thank goodness Daemon was here! You could have been killed! What were you thinking?!’ She demanded and Aemond watched on as Jace’s face fell once again. ‘You are my sweet nephew, not a soldier or a brawler in the streets!’
‘I don-I’m-Uh…‘
‘She is right nephew, we could never forgive ourselves if you had been hurt attending our wedding…perhaps it is time for you to retire for the evening. Too much wine makes the mind do stupid things.’ Y/n nodded along with Aemond but Jace just glared at him.
‘This has nothing to do with you Uncle! Keep your thoughts to yourself! I don’t need-‘
‘Jacaerys! How Dare You?! Have care how you speak to your own family, Aemond is simply showing his concern for your well being! If this is your current state then he is correct, you should retire. I’m sure Luke will help you to your bed, won’t you sweet boy?’ Luke nodded his head, moving to take his elder brothers arm.
‘No! I don’t need to-‘
‘We should be retiring as well anyway. I must ensure my new wife is taken care of…’ Y/n blushed at her brothers words, leaning into his body as his hands found her waist comfortingly.
‘You are right brother, I think I have had enough partying for one day. We have a family dinner tomorrow evening anyway, we can celebrate more then.’ Suddenly Aegon, who had been drunkenly enjoying this whole situation, was grinning in excitement and stepping up to the newly weds, hand on his younger brothers shoulder.
‘Yes brother, time to retire. The bedding ceremony must be seen to before the end of the evening! I shall get our Grandsire and elder sister to-‘
‘No!’ Aemond snapped, everyone that was listening jumping in fright at the rage in his voice. He had felt his wife’s body tense as she pulled him closer by his jacket that she was now clinging to for dear life. ‘There will be no bedding ceremony, I will have neither my sister nor my wife gawked at in her most vulnerable state as if she is some cheap whore on the street of silk! Y/n is my wife now, and no one else will ever see her in such a way ever again. I assure you brother, I can handle consummating my marriage just fine without your wandering eyes and words of encouragement.’ Aemond looked back down at his bride and took her face into his hands, wiping away the tears that escaped in her moment of panic, no one having mentioned a bedding ceremony and Aemond himself having assured her that it would not be happening.
‘My young Prince, it is tradition to have a maester and at least 3 members of the family present to ensure the wedding is consummated. Your brother, myself, Rhaenyra and Daemon are going to-‘
‘No Grandsire, you are not-because if you try to enter our marital chambers tonight, or really any night from this moment forward for any reason under the sun, I will break your spine and be feeding you to either Vhagar or the Cannibal in the morning. I will let my wife decide which she would prefer to make a meal out of your body as it is her you are offending. I am uncomfortable with how determined you are to watch me make love to my wife, and I am telling you that it will not happen.’
‘Aemond! You cannot speak to your Grandsire this way, you must-‘ Aemond cut his mother off quickly, startling her as he had never spoken to her like this before.
‘Do not make the mistake of believing my words to be exaggeration mother, they are not. Anyone who steps foot into our marital chambers this night or any moment from this one onward will find themselves being fed to a dragon of my wife’s choosing. She is my wife! And it is my job to care for her as such! I will not have her humiliated or upset as she gives herself to me for the first time…or any time. That is the end of the discussion, however you may wait in the hall and once we are done I will deliver you the sheets from our bed as your proof. That will have to suffice because it is all that you are getting.’ He looked back down at Y/n who had tears in her eyes once again but this time they were not fearful or embarrassed, but grateful and full of love. ‘Come my wife, it is time that I make this marriage official and fill you with my son. I must give my wife all of the lovely Targaryen babies that her heart desires.’
Aemond bent down slightly before lifting Y/n into his arms like a babe, whisking her away and out of the party. ‘Thank you Aemond…I know I should just accept it but I-‘
‘My wife will never be seen by anyone but me in any state of undress from this moment on, and should anyone sneak a peak at you I will deliver you their heart and feed the remains to Vhagar. Don’t you ever apologize for being uncomfortable, it is my job as your husband to see to your safety and I take my job very seriously.’ He assured her, kissing her head as they reached their new marital chambers where all of their things had been moved to. As Aemond carried his sister through the door he kicked it shut behind himself and locked it with both locks before using the thick wood plank and barring the door so no one could get in without more work than it was worth.
‘Will you assist me with the dress, husband?’ She teased making Aemond smirk, eyes darkening at the thought of finally undressing the prize he has worked and waited for, for so long.
‘You need not even ask, my love. Come here.’ He quickly unlaced the back of her dress, allowing it to fall to the ground and leave her in her small clothes which she removed before crawling into the bed and looking back up at him nervously. ‘Relax my love, you will love every second of this, I promise you.’ He swore and she took a breath, nodding, though her eyes grew wide again as he removed his trousers and revealed himself to her for the first time, now naked as he crawled onto the bed, leaning down to kiss her, sucking his way down her neck and chest.
‘A-Aemond? What are you-‘
‘Shh…just relax. I’m going to take care of you Princess, just trust me.’ He lifted her leg up by the back of the knee and leaned in, pressing his mouth over her slit before trailing his tongue up between her pussy lips and brushing against her clit, causing her hips to jump against her will.
‘I’m s-sorry-‘
‘Don’t apologize again, just enjoy it.’ Aemond wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on the little bundle of nerves, brushing his tongue against it repeatedly which seemed to shut her up quickly, the only sound remaining was her never ending moans. He pressed a finger into her tight hole followed by a second one which earned him a soft mewling noise that he couldn’t help thinking was adorable as he began pumping his fingers in and out of her, stretching her as gently as he could to prepare her for him.
‘Oh Fuck! Aemond!’ She seemed to be hanging right on the edge in that moment until he curled his fingers up and just as he did she cried out at a whole new octave and her pussy squeezed his fingers in a vice grip, her body shaking while she panted as if she had run a long distance and he couldn’t help but find her flushed face absolutely beautiful.
‘You are so gorgeous…’ he crawled up over her and touched his lips to hers while spreading her legs. They wrapped around his waist before he pressed his cock against her hole and instantly felt as if he had died and gone to Heaven. 9 years he had waited after realizing how in love with Y/n he truly was, 9 years dreaming of this moment and wanting to make it just as special for her as it was for him just knowing how good his sister would make him feel, and he was right. Her cunt was like the sweetest vice grip he had ever experienced, he had never felt anything more wonderful in his entire life as he stilled his hips and just waited, not wanting to hurt her or cum so fast that she would inevitably laugh at him. ‘Are you alright?’ He questioned, wanting to make sure he wasn’t hurting her too badly but she nodded.
‘I want to see all of you brother…I never want you to hide any part of you from me again.’ She spoke as she reached up and pulled the eye patch from his face. He reflexively turned his head away but she caught him, turning his head back and pulling him down to kiss the scar both over and under his eye. ‘My husband nor my brother will ever have to hide from me, you are so strong…and I think my husband is the most handsome man in the 7 kingdoms. I will fight anyone who chooses to disagree with me…and I have a Dragon so they will most assuredly lose.’ She teased making him smile before he choked on his breath, her pussy squeezing his member suddenly before she wiggled her hips. ‘Take me brother, I am all yours now!’
‘Yes you are…Mine! I will kill anyone who even thinks to disagree with me! All mine…’ Aemond spoke, shifting his hips back before pushing back in gently, doing it again only to thrust up into her this time. ‘Your husband is going to fill your belly so full tonight that no one will be able to question whether or not you are carrying my son. You want that, don’t you Princess? You want me to give you a baby?’
Y/n’s head nodded frantically as Aemond was now jack hammering his hips into her mercilessly, her whines prompting him to go faster. ‘Yes Brother! Yes! I want to give you everything! Fill my womb so that I may give you all the sons you want!’
‘Never going to stop breeding your cunt, Gods you feel magnificent! We’re going to end up having an entire army because I am never going to stop fucking you! Cum for me Princess and your husband will fill your womb, give me your pleasure!’ He demanded just before she cried out, her head thrown back as her cunt clamped down on him so hard he briefly thought it would hurt before the pleasure shot straight up his spine and he buried his cock into her as deeply as he could.
Aemond couldn’t tell how long they laid there breathing heavily and just holding each other, it felt as if they lost time before there was a knock on the door and Y/n flinched, instinctively trying to cover her body with a blanket despite no one entering. ‘My Prince? If you have finished we need-‘
‘Shut Up! Say Another Word and I Will Remove Your Tongue!’ He growled to the maester at the door. ‘Stay still my love, I will take care of it.’ He kissed her head and she smiled, humming contently before wincing as he pulled out of her, using his thumb to press his cum back into her abused hole as it leaked out. Aemond jumped up and pulled the sheet carefully from under her and off of the bed, rolling his eyes as he saw the small amount of blood on the white linen that he had made sure to fuck her on top of as he wasn’t willing to argue about them needing evidence that consummation took place. ‘I will be right back, then you are mine for the next week, because I do not plan on us leaving this bed for at least that long.’ He teased, kissing her nose and making her giggle as he pulled his trousers on and moved to the door, unbarring it and stepping outside while shutting the door behind him, unwilling to let anyone see his wife in her current state. At the door stood Maester Mellos along with his Grandsire, his mother and brother, and also Rhaenyra and Daemon. ‘I do not understand why this needed to be such a spectacle for so many of you but here.’ He shoved the sheet at the old man angrily. ‘Now, all of you will leave because if I find out anyone continued listening at the door I will slit you from balls to brains!’ The maester inspected the sheet before nodding to the Queen who genuinely looked sorry for her son.
‘I didn’t know you had it in you brother!’ Aegon laughed, Otto shoving him away quickly and dragging him down the hall before Aemond could move to cut him open as he wanted to, Daemon following along, clearly not caring about being there and only having done so as he loved his niece- to ensure Aemond was a gentleman.
‘Take care of your wife Aemond, I know you will be a good husband, better than your brother.’
‘Thank you mother-oh! We will be taking all of our meals in our chambers tomorrow-and for the foreseeable future. Please be sure a maid is sent to do that, my wife will need breaks to eat.’ Alicent didn’t look shocked at all, just nodding her head before she walked off.
‘Brother.’ Rhaenyra spoke, Aemond sighing before giving her his attention. ‘Take care of her. She is a gentle soul, if you hurt my sister I will make sure you do not live to see whatever children you give her.’ He rolled his eyes, not giving a fuck about his elder sisters threat.
‘If you think for a moment that I would harm her then you know nothing about our relationship at all-oh! Wait! You don’t…it took 9 years but I always knew that I would make her mine no matter what I had to do. I’m just thankful that father gave into my threat before you could give her away to that idiot Wolf in the North.’
‘W-what are you-‘
‘Of course, you don’t know! I made my mother aware of the fact that if you were successful in marrying off our sister that I would have mounted Vhagar and burned every inch of the Starks home, and every other home and stronghold that had snow covering it. She was never going to marry anyone else, that was decided quite a long time ago…its just that no one but I knew it.’ He explained, enjoying her shocked expression before opening the door to go back to his wife. ‘Oh! One more thing! You should make sure that you keep your eldest on a short leash, because if I find out-or Gods forbid catch him-peeping at my wife like he did under your watch, he will be locked in the Black cells until I decide to feed him to Vhagar. Your heir or not, father will not be able to argue with him dishonoring my wife and his favorite grandchild, and you know it…it was lovely to see you again sister.’ With that Aemond slammed the door in her face and turned back to his wife.
‘Is everything okay?’ Y/n asked, clearly nervous that the sheet wouldn’t be enough evidence and they would demand to watch this time.
‘Of course my Love, I will always ensure that it will be. Now, let us continue enjoying our marital bliss for as long as we can, hmm?’ Y/n smiled, dropping the blankets and revealing her naked chest to his eyes and he couldn’t help but imagine the breasts that he was in love with, swollen with milk to feed the boy that was growing in her womb. He was desperate to taste it himself, his cock growing hard in record time at the thought before he leapt into the bed beside her.
‘I want to stay here with you like this forever.’ She admitted, now sitting in his lap, his cock buried in her pussy as he enjoys worshipping her breasts with his mouth.
‘As you wish Sister…Always.’
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Aemond T. Masterlist
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lizzyiii · 1 month ago
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hi!! i have a request! what about a one shot for aemond x reader who is betrothed to him. she’s a baratheon girl or something but she gifts him the sapphire for his eye as a wedding gift or something along the lines of that?
ask and you shall receive...
The Sapphire Gift
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pairing | aemond targaryen x baratheon!reader
word count | 5.1k words
summary | Of all his five daughters, Borros Baratheon has chosen you to be betrothed to Aemond Targaryen, much to your dismay. Seeking to forge a deeper connection with your betrothed, you decide to create the perfect wedding gift for him.
tags | fluff, fluff, toothrotting fluff, friends to lovers, aemond literally does not know how to communicate or court a lady, sarcastic!reader, awkward!reader, simp!Aemond, reader is just a typical seventeen-year-old girl, lowkey got second hand embarrassment writing this.
a/n | ooooh, this was so cutesy to write, I love writing awkward/sassy reader and simp/awkward aemond. Finished this in a solid 2 days💪. ALSOO I need moots, so anyway wanna volunteer as tribute????
likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated ✨
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“Why must it be me?”
Your voice echoed through the grand hall of Storm’s End, the walls adorned with the sigil of the mighty Baratheons. You stood before your father, Borros Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End, arms crossed defiantly, your brows knit in frustration.
“Because I have chosen you,” he replied, a casual shrug dismissing your protests, as he lounged upon the imposing ironwood throne that commanded the room. The flickering torches cast shadows across his weathered face, but his resolve remained steadfast.
Your heart sank further as you protested, “You have four other daughters to choose from!”
Borros began to tally your sisters on his fingers, his expression serious yet unconcerned. “Cassandra is already pledged to House Brownhill, Maris is too old to be of interest, and Floris is still but a child. Ellyn might have been a contender, but she reminded me that you are more closely aligned in age to the prince, which I daresay makes you more appealing to his eye.”
You bit back a curse aimed at Ellyn, whose selfishness felt like a betrayal in this moment, and muttered, “Emphasis on the word ‘eye’.”
“Fawn!” your father snapped, the nickname a remnant of your childhood, now wielded like a blade.
With a huff, you cast your gaze towards your mother, Lady Elenda, seated on a modestly adorned stool that contrasted starkly with your father’s opulence. Her fingers deftly worked at her embroidery, her belly round and pregnant with another child. “Mother, do you have naught to say about this?”
Elenda blinked slowly, her expression momentarily vacant before she smiled dreamily, “I have heard the prince is kind and benevolent,” she replied, her tone light and airy as your father nodded approvingly at her words.
You gasped, a hand flying to your chest in disbelief. “That is a complete and utter falsehood! Tales of his cruelty and wickedness abound, even in these halls. How could you deceive me so?”
Borros waved a dismissive hand, the irritation brewing like a storm within him. “So what if he has but one eye? He commands Vhagar, the largest dragon in the realm, and wields a sword as if it were an extension of his very arm. You shall ascend to the rank of princess, lacking for nothing.”
“But Father—”
“Enough!” His voice boomed, reverberating off the stone walls and silencing the murmurs of guards and servants alike. You could feel the weight of his anger pressing down upon you. Sighing heavily, you rolled your eyes, the gesture laden with pettiness. “This matter is settled. Prepare yourself; tonight we shall feast in honor of your betrothal. Do not sulk—it is unbecoming of a future princess.”
With a final glare that could wither a flower, you turned on your heel, storming away from the throne room, your heart heavy with the weight of your new fate.
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King’s Landing was an entirely different realm compared to the windswept fortress of Storm’s End. Here, the sun cast a golden glow over the Red Keep, its warmth caressing the bustling streets of Flea Bottom, while in your home, rain seemed a constant companion, drenching the rugged cliffs and soaking through the halls of your ancestral seat.
The city thrummed with life—vibrant and teeming—overwhelming in its sheer size and noise. In contrast, Storm’s End felt desolate, where the only sounds were the howling gales and crashing waves that eternally assaulted its walls.
Settling into the royal court at the Red Keep was no easy feat, for you were keenly aware of the eyes that followed your every move. You quickly learned that here, every smile concealed secrets, and every word was a weapon to be wielded.
Queen Alicent Hightower, the Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, carried herself with grace befitting her station. Her demeanor was gentle, yet there was a steeliness in her eyes that hinted at the strength behind her polished exterior. On your very first day in court, she welcomed you with a kind smile, her piety clear as she extended an invitation to join her at the Great Sept for prayer.
Her tone was soft, but her words carried the weight of duty. You accepted her offer, though the idea of spending time in such hallowed halls made you uneasy. Alicent's warmth masked the political currents swirling beneath the surface, and you were acutely aware that every gesture here had meaning beyond what was said.
Then there was her eldest son, Prince Aegon. The first time you laid eyes on him, he reeked of wine, his eyes glazed and unfocused. Despite his title, he carried none of the nobility one would expect from a dragon’s heir. His indulgences were well-known, and his lack of decorum often left the court murmuring in hushed tones.
Aegon's gaze lingered on you far too long for comfort, the weight of it unsettling, as if he sought something that wasn’t his to take. His lecherous nature made you feel for his sister-wife, Princess Helaena, who appeared as trapped by her marriage as she was by the walls of the Red Keep. It was said that Aegon had grown old before his time, his twenty-one years bearing the burden of his vices.
Princess Helaena was a stark contrast to her husband. There was an otherworldly grace to her, a softness that seemed untouched by the cruelties of life. She spoke in riddles, her voice often drifting into ethereal musings that left you both puzzled and intrigued. Her words, though strange, reminded you of the whispers of the gods in dreams, distant yet profound.
Her presence was soothing, and you found solace in her company, even if her mind wandered to places you could not follow. Her children, Jaehaera and Jaehaerys, were a light amidst the shadows of the court, their laughter pure and untainted by the scheming that surrounded them. It was hard to reconcile that they were the offspring of Aegon.
But your thoughts always returned to one person—your betrothed, Prince Aemond Targaryen. From the moment you arrived in King’s Landing, you had been told stories of his fearsome prowess in battle, his unmatched skill with the sword, and the fearsome dragon, Vhagar, that answered his call.
Yet when your eyes met his for the first time, what struck you most was not his strength but the scar that marred his face—a reminder of the price he had paid for his ambition. It only added to his allure, a mark of his relentless determination. When he took your hand and pressed a kiss to it, a slow heat rose in your cheeks. His grip was firm but not unkind, and in that moment, you felt yourself swoon. After all, you were just a girl.
However, Aemond was not a man easily won. A moon had passed since your arrival, and with your wedding fast approaching, you had hoped to spend time in his company, to know the man behind the dragonprince’s mask. Yet, he seemed to slip away from you at every opportunity, his presence a fleeting shadow that vanished the moment you tried to reach for him. His evasions frustrated you, each refusal to join you in the gardens or to share a quiet moment only deepened the chasm between you.
It was said that dragons could not be tamed, only respected. But you longed for more than respect from your future husband. How could you hope to win Aemond's heart if he remained as distant as the stars that twinkled in the night sky?
Determined to change your fate, you devised a plan—a gift to offer Aemond before the wedding, something personal and meaningful that might draw him closer to you. From your balcony, you had often watched him train, his sword catching the sunlight as he moved with lethal grace. You had also stalked observed him in quieter moments, lost in the pages of ancient tomes in the Red Keep’s vast library. But no matter the scene, your gaze always drifted to the black leather patch over his left eye, a constant reminder of his loss.
Through whispered conversations among the ladies of the court, you had pieced together the story of that eye, taken from him when he was but twelve, during a violent skirmish with his own nephew. The knife had found its mark, leaving him disfigured and scarred in more ways than one. You could hardly imagine the pain he endured, the maester's delicate, grim task of removing what remained. The very thought sent a chill through you—what it must have felt like to be forever changed, to carry such a wound into manhood.
Jewelry had always enchanted you, especially the way it could transform even the simplest of gowns into something regal. And it was through that love of adornment that inspiration struck. Aemond needed something beautiful, something that would not only adorn him but perhaps bring a glimmer of warmth to that hardened exterior.
After much thought, you settled on a sapphire, deep and blue like the narrow seas, cut and shaped like an eye—a symbol of his lost strength and newfound resilience. It was a bold choice, one that you hoped would capture his attention, something that might resonate with the prince who had suffered so much.
With the sapphire crafted into an exquisite piece of jewelry, you wrapped it carefully, your heart filled with anticipation. The wedding drew closer with each passing day, and the idea of giving Aemond this token before the vows were exchanged consumed your thoughts. Would such a gift be enough to draw him out of the shadows, to make him see you as more than just his betrothed but as someone who truly wished to know him?
Desperation fueled your resolve. You decided to visit his chambers, scandalous though it might be, under the cover of night. It was unheard of for a lady to seek out a man in such a manner, but propriety seemed insignificant in the face of your growing desire to understand him.
Wrapped in a dark cloak to hide your identity from prying eyes, the gift cradled carefully in your hand, you navigated the winding, dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep. The moon hung high above the castle, casting eerie shadows along the stone walls as you walked with purpose toward his door.
Apprehension seized you as you approached, a wave of doubt crashing over you. What if he rejected your offering? What if he saw it as nothing more than a futile attempt to win his affection, which it kind of was. Yet before those thoughts could take root, you steeled yourself and knocked firmly on the heavy oak door, your heart pounding in your chest.
Moments passed in silence, each one stretching endlessly until, at last, you heard the soft thud of boots approaching from within. The door creaked open, and there he stood—Prince Aemond Targaryen. His long, silver hair cascaded freely over his shoulders, almost camouflaged against the loose white shirt he wore, which clung to the contours of his lean, muscular frame.
His single violet eye regarded you with a mixture of surprise and caution, the flickering light of the torches casting shadows across his sharp features. You found yourself momentarily breathless, caught off guard by the quiet intensity of his presence.
His gaze flicked to the dark cloak you wore, then back to your face, a question lingering unspoken between you. “My lady,” he began, his voice slow and deliberate, “it is late.”
You nodded quickly, casting a nervous glance down the dimly lit corridor. “Yes, I realize. May I come in?”
His lips tightened as though he was about to refuse, but before the words could escape him, you slipped past the threshold into the warmth of his chambers, your heart racing with a mix of adrenaline and nervous energy.
“Thank you,” you murmured, your gaze darting around the room, absorbing the details: the few books strewn across the table, the rich, intricate tapestries that adorned the stone walls, and the soft glow of firelight dancing in the hearth.
Aemond's voice was closer than expected when he spoke again. “My lady,” he repeated, causing you to jump slightly at his nearness.
You turned abruptly, releasing a nervous laugh. In the next moment, you remembered the purpose of your visit and hastily thrust the small, wrapped parcel into his hands. “I—I’ve brought you a gift.”
His brow furrowed in surprise as he looked down at the object now resting in his palm. “A gift?”
You offered a tight, awkward smile, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. “A wedding gift, of sorts.”
You watched intently as he carefully opened the small package, revealing the deep blue sapphire you had commissioned. His expression remained guarded, though curiosity danced in his gaze. “What is this for?” he asked, his voice even.
Swallowing hard, you wrung your hands together and took a deep breath. “I thought… perhaps you might wear it in place of your eye patch.”
Aemond's eyebrow arched, his lone eye narrowing in sharp scrutiny. “A decoration for my injury?” There was no malice in his tone, but the words still cut deep.
Your heart sank, panic rising in your chest as you hurried to explain. “No, no! Not like that. I only thought…” Your voice faltered as the words tumbled out, your face flushing with embarrassment. “I thought the eye patch might be… suffocating at times. The sapphire—it’s strong and regal, like you. I thought it might be more—well, appealing. Not that your injury is unappealing, of course!”
You cringed inwardly, realizing how foolish you must sound. Eyes cast downward, you continued, “Sapphires are a symbol of wisdom, strength, and royalty. It felt fitting for you. But if I’ve overstepped, I’ll take it back.” You bit your lip, the weight of your own awkwardness pressing down on you. “Truly, it’s alright.”
Reaching out to reclaim the stone, you found your hand halted by his. His touch was firm, yet not unkind. “No,” Aemond said, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “I accept your gift, my lady.”
Relief flooded through you, though you could hardly bear to meet his gaze under the weight of your own mortification. Without thinking, you blurted out the first excuse that came to mind. “Oh! I just remembered—I’m to have tea with your mother.”
Aemond's gaze drifted to the window where the full moon hung high in the night sky. He raised an eyebrow, a subtle amusement curling at the edge of his lips. “At this hour?”
You nodded hastily, your laugh high-pitched with nerves. “Yes, well, a late tea, you see.”
Before he could respond further, you turned toward the door, only to misjudge the frame and bump into it with an audible thud. The embarrassment was almost too much to bear. “I wish you a good night, my prince,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as you hurried out.
As you fled down the darkened corridor, you missed the rare sight behind you—the amused smirk that tugged at Aemond's lips and the way his expression softened as he gazed down at the sapphire, the light of the fire casting its blue hue across his hand. Intrigue flickered in his eye, a hint of something deeper, as he tucked the gem into his palm, the gift having made a more lasting impression than you could ever have imagined.
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And now it was you doing everything in your power to avoid your betrothed. After that utterly humiliating encounter, where you had gifted Prince Aemond the sapphire for his eye, you had nearly thrown yourself from the balcony in shame. Every misstep, every nervous word, echoed relentlessly in your mind. The way he had looked at you, as though you were nothing more than a foolish girl… you could hardly bear it.
That night, you had made peace with a simple truth: it was perfectly acceptable if Aemond did not like you. You would fulfill your duty as his wife, give him heirs, and that would be the extent of your relationship. Yet, even as you tried to harden your heart, you couldn’t deny the yearning deep within you for something more—a connection, affection, or at the very least, understanding. But you’d sooner face a dragon than approach him again after such mortification.
Now, you found refuge in the company of Princess Helaena, sharing tea in her sunlit solar, where tapestries of butterflies and flowers adorned the walls. Helaena sat in her usual reverie, speaking in disjointed whispers about dreams and prophecies. You had grown fond of her strange, otherworldly nature, even if much of what she said left you puzzled.
Today, however, your tea was constantly interrupted by the young Princess Jaehaera, who was determined to climb into your lap as you attempted to drink. “You have such pretty hair,” she said, her small hands reaching to touch the loose strands that framed your face, her voice filled with innocent awe.
You smiled warmly, gently lifting a strand of her silver-gold hair to place beside your own. “Not as pretty as yours, my sweet princess,” you said softly. The Targaryen blood ran strong in the little girl, her pale locks shimmering like spun moonlight under the midday sun.
As Jaehaera continued to braid a piece of your hair, her twin brother, Prince Jaehaerys, was nestled in your lap, completely absorbed in a heavy tome recounting Aegon the Conqueror���s rise to power. You marveled at the child’s focus, noting how his somber demeanor contrasted starkly with his sister’s. It was strange, you thought, for a boy of only five summers to be so intent on reading a history so grim. His brow furrowed in concentration, a seriousness far beyond his years.
"You’ll grow to be as wise as your grandsire with all this reading, my prince," you commented with a chuckle, though you could not help but feel a touch of unease at how much the young boy seemed to carry the weight of his family’s legacy on his small shoulders.
Jaehaera giggled, abandoning your hair to cling to your arm. “I want to ride a dragon, like Vhagar!”
The mention of Vhagar brought an involuntary shiver down your spine, the thought of that ancient, fearsome beast ever-present in your mind. The mighty she-dragon’s rider, your betrothed, had taken to avoiding you as much as you had him, and though part of you was relieved, another part, buried deeper, ached at the distance.
As you entertained the children, Princess Helaena’s lilting voice broke the calm. "He dreams of fire and blood, my son," she said, her gaze unfocused as she stared at the window, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her cup. "As do we all."
You offered a polite smile, uncertain whether to respond or remain silent..
Your gaze shifted, drawn by the soft, deliberate sound of footsteps echoing through the confines of Helaena's solar. As you looked up, you immediately lowered your eyes, your heart racing, warmth flooding your cheeks as fluttering butterflies stirred restlessly in your stomach. Aemond strode through the door, his very presence commanding the room without a single word.
You felt his gaze upon you, sharp and intense. Jaehaera squealed with delight beside you, calling out, “Kepūs!” Her excitement was palpable as she clambered off your lap, rushing to his side. Even Jaehaerys, who had been so engrossed in his book, set it aside to greet his uncle.
You dared a glance up to find something unexpected—a soft, almost tender smile tugging at Aemond’s lips as he looked down at the children. The rare sight caught you off guard, but before you could process it, his expression shifted, and he cleared his throat, turning his attention to Helaena.
“Sister,” he began, his voice steady, respectful yet commanding. “Might I steal a moment of Lady Baratheon’s time?”
Helaena, oblivious to the way your pulse quickened, nodded lightly, her gentle smile untouched by the tension you now felt. “Of course, brother,” she replied, her tone light and dreamlike, as though she sensed nothing of the undercurrent between you and Aemond.
You felt the weight of their eyes upon you—Helaena’s distant curiosity, Jaehaera’s wide-eyed innocence, and Aemond’s watchful, unreadable gaze. You rose slowly from your seat, smoothing the folds of your gown as you murmured a soft farewell to the princess and her children, acutely aware of how unsteady your voice sounded.
Aemond stood patiently, waiting as you gathered yourself. His tall figure loomed over you, but there was no sense of impatience in his posture. When you stepped out of the solar, he turned and led the way into the dimly lit corridor, his footsteps echoing against the stone walls in perfect rhythm with yours.
The silence between you grew heavier with each step, and the farther you ventured down the shadowed halls of the Red Keep, the more you became aware of where he was leading you—back toward his chambers.
Your palms began to sweat, and your heart pounded with a growing unease. Why had he sought you out? Why now, after so many days of avoidance?
The corridor felt impossibly long, each step building the tension. Aemond’s back remained straight, his silver hair brushing the fabric of his black tunic, his long strides forcing you to quicken your own pace just to keep up.
When you finally reached the familiar door to his chambers, he paused, turning to face you, his one violet eye locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. The silence stretched, thick and charged, as though the air between you crackled with words unspoken.
"You’ve been avoiding me, my lady," Aemond murmured, his piercing gaze sweeping over you as you walked into his chambers.
Your eyes widened just a fraction, masking your surprise with a nervous laugh. “Why on earth would you insinuate something like that?”
His voice, soft but steady, echoed from behind you as you stepped further into the dim warmth of his room. "Perhaps because every time I enter a room, you are always the first to leave."
Fidgeting with your fingers, you murmured, "I suspect you are just seeing things, my prince."
A slight smirk tugged at his lips as he replied, “Mayhaps it’s just my one eye.”
Your head snapped up in shock at his words, but before you could respond, you noticed the faint curve of amusement in his lips. For the first time since your engagement, you let out a genuine laugh, tilting your head. “Oh, so you can jest,” you teased, though you couldn’t help but wrinkle your nose in playful disapproval. “Though your delivery needs some work.”
Aemond’s smirk deepened, a flicker of something warmer in his gaze. “I shall endeavor to improve,” he replied with dry humor, his voice low.
For a moment, your eyes locked, the silence between you charged with a tension that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. But then he cleared his throat, breaking the moment. “I called you here for a reason,” he said, his tone shifting as he turned away, walking toward his desk.
Your curiosity piqued as you watched him retrieve something—a finely crafted box, larger than you expected. He carried it with the same ease as he handled his sword, and yet there was a certain weight to his movements. He approached you, his expression unreadable, and extended the box in an indifferent manner. "A wedding gift," he said simply.
Your heart fluttered as you took the box, your fingers trembling slightly. As you lifted the lid, your breath caught in your throat. Inside lay a necklace—silver, adorned with diamonds that glimmered like starlight, white pearls cascading from its base, and at the center, a magnificent sapphire, almost mirroring the sapphire you had gifted him. It was stunning, more than anything you had ever imagined.
“Wow,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, as if the beauty of the necklace had stolen the air from your lungs.
Aemond’s voice softened, a note of vulnerability threading through his usual composure. “Do you like it?”
You met his gaze, your eyes bright with genuine surprise and gratitude. “Yes, yes, of course,” you breathed, a shy smile tugging at your lips as your heart raced with something more than just relief.
You looked at him, pure joy lighting up your face, entirely unaware of the soft, almost tender look in Aemond's eye as he observed you. Nodding eagerly, you gestured to the necklace. "Will you put it on me?"
Aemond inclined his head in silence, taking the necklace from its box as he motioned for you to turn around. You did so, gathering your hair and lifting it to reveal your neck. The warmth of his presence grew closer, and when his fingers brushed against your skin to secure the clasp, you couldn’t help but wonder if the caress was deliberate or merely your imagination.
When his hands finally withdrew, you released the breath you had been holding. Turning to face him, you tilted your chin up slightly. "How does it look?"
For a moment, Aemond’s gaze lingered on you, his eye fixed on your face with an unreadable intensity before it drifted down to your neck. "Your neck looks... long."
Your brow furrowed, confusion knitting your features. "My neck looks long?"
Aemond coughed, a rare sign of discomfort, and you could swear you caught the faintest hint of pink on his pale cheeks. He quickly amended his words, mumbling, "I mean, it looks nice. The necklace brings out your eyes."
A sheepish smile tugged at your lips as you nodded, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. "Thank you, my prince."
For a brief moment, your eyes flickered to the eye patch that hid his injury, wondering if the sapphire you had gifted him lay beneath. The thought of it being there, close to him, filled you with an unspoken sense of connection. You felt content to simply stand there, the moment shared between you without the need for words. But Aemond, shifting slightly under your gaze, seemed less at ease.
“I am late for training,” he said, his tone distant as though eager to escape.
You narrowed your eyes playfully, tilting your head in mock suspicion. “I thought you only trained in the mornings?”
His posture straightened, fists clenching at his sides as he looked away, clearly caught in his lie. The silence that followed made him glance toward the window. “It’s... a beautiful day.”
You hummed softly in agreement, not pressing him any further. “Yes, it is.”
Aemond hesitated for a moment before his eye met yours again, the faintest trace of vulnerability in his voice. “Mayhaps you would be interested in a walk in the castle gardens?”
Your heart skipped, and it took everything within you to suppress the wide grin threatening to break free. You feigned contemplation for a moment before nodding with as much grace as you could muster. “I would love to, my prince.”
And though Aemond kept his face composed, you couldn’t help but notice the slight softening of his expression at your acceptance.
In Aemond's eyes, despite your apparent obliviousness to his growing feelings, it was not hard to fall in love with you. There was a quiet strength in the way you carried yourself, a delicate blend of grace and fire that intrigued him.
He had always been reserved, more comfortable in the company of books and the sound of steel clashing in the training yard than in the presence of others. But with you, there was something different, something that drew him in against his better judgment.
Your laugh, though soft, echoed in his mind long after you left the room. The way your eyes sparkled with genuine warmth when you spoke to him—even when you were nervous—was a stark contrast to the calculated interactions he was used to at court.
You were not scheming, not vying for his favor or power. You were simply... you. And perhaps that was what made it so easy for his walls to crumble, little by little, without even realizing it.
When you smiled up at him, asking him to place the necklace around your neck, his heart had skipped a beat. It was such a simple request, yet the intimacy of it made him feel more vulnerable than any duel or battle could. In those moments, he found himself wondering what it would be like to let his guard down, to let you see the man behind the stoic façade.
Even now, as he led you through the corridors of the Red Keep, heading toward the gardens, Aemond couldn’t help but steal glances at you. Your presence beside him felt... right. The idea of loving you was no longer something he fought against; instead, it was a slow, inevitable truth that settled in his chest.
In time, he hoped you would see it too.
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Headcannon: reader only sees the sapphire in his eye on their wedding night
Headcannon: this is before the dance of dragons and viserys is still alive
Headcannon: aemond is 18 and reader is 17
Ages of the Baratheon daughters:
Cassandra - 25
Maris - 22
Ellyn - 19
Reader (fawn) - 17
Floris - 13
ALSO you cannot change my mind - after having four daughters (canon) Borros Baratheon is def a girl dad!
Hope you enjoyed 💜
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peachysunrize · 2 months ago
Text
[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]
Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.
Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity
Word count: 5.1k+
Warnings: tensionnnnnn, alcohol consumption (just wine) & fluff! English isn’t my first language <3
A/n: ‘m not gonna say anything more than just that ITS THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING NEW!! Reblog & comments are most appreciated🍊🧡
Taglist: if you’d like to be tagged in the future chapters, please fill this form with your username!
Updates: every Saturday!!
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Chapter 3: The beginning of something new
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He leans back on the chair, his book abandoned next to him on the desk as he carves a line on the wooden pallet, his glasses on the bridge of his nose, the sound of wood getting cut echoing in the old workshop.
He’s been here since early morning, all of his thoughts are consumed by you and your talk a few days ago. There’s still a part of him that is immensely guilty for how he treated you, especially after you told him about that Lannister boy. 
He is heard and understood, maybe not by someone he expected, but the sweetness and calmness in this revelation makes it more special. You’ve been in the background image of his life for so long, someone always present yet too far and out of reach. But now, you’ve turned into someone important, someone he can rely on and trust wholeheartedly. 
He sighs, letting the chisels fall from his hand on the table as he stretches his arms, groaning as he cracks his back and slowly lumps in the chair, glancing at Vhagar who does the same and slowly walks towards him, jumping on him to cuddle — the chair is so little to have them both sitting on it together, so Aemond has to hold Vhagar to his chest with a hand under her belly while she rests her head on his forearm as the other hand rubs slowly circle on her back.
Vhagar barks suddenly, jumping down to go near the door, alerting Aemond that someone is coming. He also stands up, grabs his abandoned book from the table, and walks towards Vhagar who is clawing at the door before he opens it and lets her out, locking the door workshop’s door behind him.
He follows her, watching as she bolts through the bushes and trees to reach whoever is approaching them. He hears your voice, melodically and softly when you start talking to Vhagar, giggling and letting her probably lick your face.
“Morning!” You say as soon as you spot him, strengthening your back before you stand up, holding two cups of coffee in your hands, “I couldn’t find you in the library, so I thought you’re probably taking a walk with your old lady.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “we had an early morning, and she gets restless and impatient when she doesn’t set foot outside.”
“Here’s your coffee, little nerd,” you hand him his cup, stepping closer to him until you’re only mere inches away from him, looking up at him through your lashes.
Aemond’s break is stuck in his throat as he looks down at you, he gulps when he sees you reach for his face, pushing his glasses up so he sees better. Your touch is warm against his skin, but your smile is warmer, more welcoming than anything he’s ever seen.
Get a grip, he thinks to himself as he thanks you quietly, clearing his throat before he wraps his long fingers around the hot mug. 
“Let’s take a walk, shall we?” He asks, glancing back at the workshop door quickly.
“What’s that?” You turn around and follow his gaze, pointing at the door hiding behind the trees.
“Oh, um, that…” he rubs the back of his neck nervously, “nothing, just an abandoned storeroom,” Aemond shrugs, the book in his hands falling to the ground as his palm grows clammy.
“Shit—“
“It’s okay, I’ve got it,” you crouch down to grab the book, smiling softly when you look up and find Aemond turning red with embarrassment, especially when you glance at the book in your hand, “No way.”
“Give me that, please—“ he tries to snatch it out of your hand, but you hold it behind your back, biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning, taking a sip from your coffee to hide your smile, “tell me why you are reading Maester Orwyle’s book of Philosophy!”
“To kill some time, now please—“ he sighs, gesturing to you to give him the book by his hand while the ghost of a smirk finds its way to his face, “Don’t be ridiculous and give me the book so we can both go back to the house.”
“Nope,” you take a step away from him and he matches your huge grin as he extends his hand again, “if you want it, you should come get it.”
“Come on,” Aemond groans, “I’m not the five-year-old kid who used to chase you around the house to steal one of your books!”
“I’m not saying you should chase me, but maybe say please a few more times then I’ll agree—no!” You squeal when he leans over and snatches the book out of your hands, his tall and lean frame making it impossible for you to hold it back anymore, “You’re no fun!”
“Someone has to be the adult of this friendship,” he says, securing the book under his arm as he walks ahead of you, turning around to look at you, pointing at the path in front of you with his head, “Come on.”
“Fine, fine!” You laugh, following him towards the path leading to the backyard and the Weirwood tree.
The sound of friendship left a bittersweet taste in his mouth, something he only felt when Alys would give him backhanded compliments, but he knows you, maybe even much better than he ever knew his ex-fiance, and with the talk you had a few days ago, he is left confused. Not by your actions no, but by your words; it is hard to find someone who’s had the same experience, especially with someone so understanding and willing to share them.
“Don’t sulk now, Little nerd,” you bump your shoulder to him, watching him take a long sip of his coffee, “tell me about the book, it mustn’t be the first time you’re reading it.”
“Of course not,” he sighs and continues, “he was a friend of my grandfather, no one knows what happened to their friendship after this book was written, but apparently all the answers are in this—“
“You can’t be reading this giant hard-to-swallow book just because you wanna know about your grandpa's failed friendship,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him, “come on, tell me the truth!”
“No,” he gives you a pointed look, “this is the truth.”
“Alright,” you smile at him, not wanting to pressure him if he truly doesn’t wish to explain it, walking side by side with him until the trees are behind you except the Weirwood tree that looks so beautiful under the morning sunlight.
“The coffee is perfect…” he hums in delight as he glances at you, holding the mug in one hand with his arm keeping the book rightly against his body while he puts his right hand on the small of your back, walking slowly to your right side to be able to look at you more comfortably.
“My goodness, Aemond, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize—“ you try to apologize but he cuts you off with a slow shake of his head.
“It’s okay, don’t fret about it,” he rubs circles on your waist as you walk towards the house, the sunshine casting a glow on your face, and he fights off a smile when he sees how your eyes shine, “how did you find out I like my coffee with three sugars?”
“You’re not too hard to read,” you chuckle a little leaning to his side as he keeps his palm secured on your waist, “I observe people, mostly my friends and I wanted to make sure you were alright after everything, so I kept a close eye on you. Turns out you have a horrible sweet tooth!”
“You haven’t seen the worst of it yet,” he teases you, finishing his coffee in a sip, “Hel and I used to bake together, a silly hobby she took when Viserys and Mum separated. It was only simple cakes and bread but you know me, I can’t settle for less than perfection.”
“So you started to get better and better.”
“Yeah, it turns out Hel & I would make an excellent team, many of the birthday cakes were on us,” he explains, handing you the book so you’d hold it for him so he can open the door for you when you reach the building, “if you’re lucky, you’ll get a special birthday cake from me one day.”
“Stop being so talented—oh, fuck—“ you yell in shock when Vhagar runs past the two of you, knocking to your legs, making you lose your grip on your coffee and having it spill on Aemond’s book.
“I’m so sorry, fuck, I should have finished it first…” your voice grows quieter as you open the drenched book, reading the first page’s note, “Is this…?”
“Yeah,” he nods, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, “it’s yours.”
“No wonder I was looking for it when I got back home after another vacation spent here,” you laugh, tracing your finger over the blue note, “I caught you reading it in your old stable. Why would you go there to read?” It was full of horseshit, yet you seemed to like it.”
“Well, it was the only place no one seemed to want to spend any time there. Best place to read the book I stole from you,” he follows you inside the building to the kitchen to leave your cups there, “besides, you’d find me and discuss the book anyway, maybe I wanted you to find me.”
“You seem to enjoy that, don’t you? Me always finding you?” You ask him after you put the book on the kitchen island, turning around to look at him.
It seems like he has caged you with his body, he is standing close, probably closer than he should but not too much to deem it inappropriate for friends, and when you look up at him, he is sure the distance between the two of you has decreased considerably — physically and mentally.
“I like the idea,” he whispers, his good eye never leaving your face as you stare at each other before he clears his throat and pulls away a bit, giving you an awkward smile, “I think Hel and others are in the TV room.”
You nod hesitantly, moving past him towards the other room, leaving him alone in the kitchen. He sighs shakily, swallowing the lump in his throat before he decides to join you after he puts his cup away.
When he enters the room he finds you leaning on the back of the coach and Helaena is curled up on your side with Dreamfyre resting her head on Hel’s calves. His brothers are playing yet another round of Mortal Kombat — which he is sure Aegon insisted on. He looks around for Vhagar, and when he can’t find her, he assumes she must be in the library, taking her morning nap.
“Morning.”
“Hey, Aemy!” Aegon greets him, “We thought you were kidnapped when you didn’t join us for breakfast.” “Fuck off, I don’t have the patience to deal with you today,” Aemond grumbles, throwing his head back, and closing his eye before he is hit by a cushion, followed by a loud snort and soft giggles from you and Helaena, “What the fuck was the for?”
“You need to have patience! This is our summer, we will be annoying you until you give up this crappy attitude and enjoy your time with us here! Who knows when we’ll gather together like this again! You live here now with Daeron and Mum, I live in Oldtown, She,” Helaena points at you, “lives in Rosby, and Aegon… well he floats around the country.”
“I have a home, you little bitch—” “Doesn’t seem like it when you constantly show up at our places,” you say, earning a loud gasp from Aegon before he pouts and rolls his eyes at you, turning around towards Daeron with a glare when he laughs at him before he says ‘I’m gonna kick your ass’ and they start playing again.
“You know what we should do this week?” Helaena asks suddenly, sitting up with glee, “Aegon should throw one of his infamous parties! That way not only our dear brother will get better and forget about everything even for a few hours, but we get to have some fucking fun!”
“I thought you didn’t like parties,” Daeron pauses the game, turning around to give his sister a pointed look. Aemond does the same, but instead, he glances at you and finds you already looking at him, giving him a tight-lipped awkward smile before the two of you look away from each other and focus on Helaena.
“I do! But that doesn’t mean I loathe them, besides, Aegon’s parties are fun, they are not like Mum’s when we have to sit in awfully formal clothes, sipping on champagne like high-class ladies.”
“I hate to break it to you, babe, but you are a high-class lady,” you say, earning a nod from everyone in the room.
“That’s not my point,” she groans, chuckling when you side-eye her, “I just wanna have fun, and Aegon is fun—” “Did you hear that, pirate?” Aegon points at Aemond, laughing when he is met with a glare from his younger brother, “She thinks I’m fun, not you, me!”
“Don’t make her change her mind,” Aemond sighs, sneering at his older brother. “Aemond is fun, mind you,” you defend him, giving Aegon a pointed look which makes Daeron laugh out loud, “You are just too chaotic to  understand him.” “And you do?” Aegon scoffs, and Aemond senses something is going to happen, that his brother can’t simply keep his large mouth shut, “his fiance didn’t find him fun—” “Jeez, Aegon!” Daeron yells, face twisted in disbelief.
“What is your fucking problem?” you ask him, scoffing at Aegon’s scared look, “You are always mean to him.” “I am not!” “Shut the fuck up I’m talking,” Aemond looks at you, surprised by your outburst, “he needs your support more than ever, his face and his life are now all over the fucking internet! Have you considered how hurt he must be? Of course, you haven’t because you don’t think. He doesn’t need to be reminded of what happened constantly when he is trying his best to move on!”
“I—” Aegon can’t say anything as he looks at you like you have grown another head.
Aemond is as equally shocked as others, he fights off a huge smile as he watches you defend him, his lips parted in surprise, jaw on the floor while you talk and put Aegon in his place.
“Morning my loves,” Alicent comes to the rescue, looking around the room to find Helaena and Aemond looking at you with a pleased smile while Aegon shrinks under your gaze and Daeron nearly falls on the floor with how hard he’s laughing, “What’s going on here?” “I thought maybe I could throw a party!” Aegon speaks, avoiding your gaze as he looks at his mum, “A month has passed from summer and I have yet to throw one of my infamous spontaneous parties!” “Alright, but you know—” “I know, I know! In the guest wing, no drugs, no strippers—” “You brought strippers to your parties?” Aemond asks, giving Aegon a disapproving look who in return only smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at him.
“Did you forget your insanely cool bachelor party? Did you think I brought random girls to give you a lap dance—” “Okay enough!” Alicent laughs awkwardly, “There are better times to discuss these matters! I have more important things to tell you.” “Like what?” Daeron asks.
“New Gossip Girls season dropped?” Aegon looks at you shrugging when you snort at his question.
“Be serious for a fucking second please,” Aemond warns his brother before he looks at Alicent softly, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing, nothing! In fact, I kind of have a surprise for all of you. Not a huge surprise but I wanted to take you somewhere,” she explains, stroking her neck in nervousness.
“Where do you wanna take us, Mum? Hopefully nowhere near Father,” Hel says, making everyone sigh in relief when Alicent shakes his head.
“No, of course not!” she scoffs as if even the idea of seeing her ex-husband disgusted her — and it did — she continued, “Do you remember when I told you I had put the winery under a reconstruction? And specifically told you to not go there?”
“No?” Daeron answers, confused as he tries to remember when Alicent told them to not go there, “I doubt you did, Mum.”
“You have a winery?” you ask, a joyful smile comes on your face when Hel nods excitedly.
“Not just a winery but a vineyard!” “Oh, wow! I had no idea!” “Well, it’s your lucky day because now it’s useable again!” Alicent matches your enthusiasm, “Also, this is not just to show you the vineyard, but…” she looks at Aemond, “It’s Aemond’s birthday too!” “It’s not,” he replies, glancing at you quickly, “It’s in a few weeks.”
“Well it doesn’t matter because I am going to throw a party for you, and for that, we need to have a winetasting session and choose a few bottles for that occasion!”
“Mum, there is no need—” “Do shut up, asshole,” Aegon teases him, “what do you mean there is no need? Those are gonna be for your birthday, and also, I don’t have to drink in secret!” “I’m afraid I agree with Aegon,” Hel says, you and Daeron nod in encouragement, and Aemond has no choice but to also agree and surrounder, but it’ll be worth it, he thinks, because the way your eyes light up at the idea of visiting their vineyard makes his heart beat faster.
“Alright then” Alicent claps, shooing you all out of the TV room, “Wear something cool, I don’t want you to get sick under this god-awful heat.”
••••••••••
You and Hel put on your sundresses and you help her apply sunscreen on the back of her neck, covering her pale skin so she won’t burn under the awfully hot sun. The weather is exceptionally warm today and you regret agreeing to go to the vineyard without cars as soon as you step outside.
Aemond and Aegon are already there, smoking together as they wait for you and Hel to reach them. Aemond sends an endearing smile your way when he spots you, taking in the sight of you; you look beautiful, with your smile and the baby blue sundress you are wearing.
“Alright, ladies! Choose your gentleman— hey! At least let me finish,” Aegon whines when you loop your arm with Aemond, making a gagging sound when Aemond rests his palm on top of yours, “Ew, get a fucking room. Come on, Hel, we’re cooler than them.”
You chuckle when Aegon throws his arm around Helaena’s shoulders, taking the lead towards the vineyard not before he gives you a middle finger.
“Asshole,” you mutter, leaning your head on Aemond’s arm as you walk side by side, “since when did you guys have a vineyard? I’ve been Helaena’s friend for years and not once did she mention anything about it.”
“It was Viserys’ vineyard, everything belonged to him, but after Mum filed for divorce and the evidence she had against him, he gave it all away,” he explains, his thumb caressing your knuckles, “I’m glad though, Mum deserves this. I mean we weren’t in need of a huge house in King’s Landing, Old Town was enough for us anyway, but after what he put her through, she really deserved it.”
“Alicent is strong, I’m not sure if I could handle such a mind wrecking thing,” you sigh, squeezing his arm as you smile at the memories you wish to tell him, “I remember when your parents were getting divorced, Helaena would spend days with me at my Grandparents’ country house, she’d bring Dreamfyre too. It felt like an eternity when we were together.”
“Hel has that effect, time doesn’t pass with her,” He agrees, both of you waving when Helaena looks back and blows you a kiss, “I feel like that with you too, maybe because we have shared interests.”
“You’re lucky,” you reply softly, bumping your shoulder to his, “because I feel the same. Every talk we have had since we were kids till now is a core memory of mine. Yeah, Hel will always be my favorite, my best friend, but you are different from everyone I’ve met, you mean so much to me.”
“You’re a dear friend or at least a dear friend to my sister,” he laughs a little, “I remember those days though, it was just me and Daeron in this huge house. Aegon was somewhere probably fucking and drinking and doing drugs while I had to take care of Daeron. He was too young to understand anything.”
“I wish things were different…”
“I don’t,” you look at him, confused and intrigued, “Maybe my eye, yes, but… I’m glad he is no longer a part of our lives, I could care less if he drops dead tomorrow, I’m happy he is no longer here to pester us about Rhaenyra or anyone.”
As soon as you try to answer him, a huge truck goes past you at a fast pace, and in an instant, Aemond wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you to his side, keeping you close to his body as he steps between you and the road.
You pant, hands fisting the front of his shirt in terror as you try to regain your breathing. Aemond looks down at you, his fingers keeping you tightly against him as his other hand reaches to caress your cheek.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” you nod, resting your forehead on his chest as he embraces you, “Yeah, I think I am.”
“We’re here, come on,” he finds Aegon and Hel already waiting for you, and gestures for you to follow them inside, “are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, Little nerd, I’m fine,” you reach and squeeze his hand, holding it as you walk through the entrance of the winery, finding Alicent, Daeron, and Cole already there.
“We’ll start with the winery!” Alicent announces, walking ahead of everyone with Criston on her side, “I’ve asked Qoren Martell to send us a very professional wine taster from Dorne to help us choose, and… here he is!”
“A pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Hightower,” the old man nods at Alicent, shaking her hand gracefully, “I’ve been told you produce different wines here.”
You let go of Aemond and meet Helaena midway as she takes your hand and walks with you behind her Mum and Cole, pointing at different parts of the winery. At first, you see the huge Grape-filled bowls getting crushed, the noises are loud but the fruits look so juicy and sweet.
“This is incredible!” You tell Hel as the group walks toward the next room, watching in awe how huge these oak barrels are. There are probably hundreds of them, with one glass under each so if someone wants to taste the wine straight from the barrels would have easy access.
Helaena pulls you to the next room, not just you but the Targaryen siblings are shocked as well.
“You genius,” Aegon calls his mother, “This is insane!” “I have to agree,” Aemond looks around with his hands in the pocket of his shorts as he walks toward you and Helaena, “Our previous wine cellar was so little it barely fit two people in it. This is…” “Gorgeous,” you finish his sentence and take a good look at the wine cellar; the room is rounded, the walls are curved and the temperature is low to keep the bottles cold. The shelves start from the ground to the ceiling, all of them filled to the brim with different wines in each specific section, 
“It’s amazing, right?” Alicent asks, looking at her handiwork excitedly.
“You’re amazing…” It came out as a really really hushed whisper, but you and Aemond heard it correctly, Cole did say that.
You press your lips to contain your laugh when your eyes meet Aemond’s, finding him shaking his head as he reaches to rub over the huge round dining table in the middle of the room, smoothing his palm over the surface of the wood.
“Shall we start?” Alicent asks, and when you all say yes, she tells the older man to bring the bottles one by one.
You take a seat with Hel and Aemond on your sides at the table, waiting for the old Dornish man to bring the bottles. You see two other men bring a few plates filled with different cheeses and bread rolls.
“When will we see the vineyard?” You ask the siblings, pouting when Aemond chuckles at you, “Hey! Not everyone grew up with tons of money.”
“I’m not making fun of you if that’s what you’re thinking,” he replies, reaching to play with the rim of his glass, his white shirt stretching against his biceps, “your eagerness is cute.”
“Oh, fuck off!” You hide your face in your hands, laughing when Hel reaches to stroke your back, “Fine, but you need to take me there as soon as we’re done here.”
“Whatever you want,” he says, and all of you watch as Cole and the old man bring four bottles; Cabernet Sauvignon, Dornish Red, Rosè, and Chardonnay.
“Bring it on, old man,” Aegon whistles, plopping down on the chair next to the head of the table, bowing his head dramatically when Alicent sits.
You start with the Dornish Red and observe all of the siblings closely; Helaena sips gently and takes a piece of cheese immediately, Daeron and Alicent go on the exact same pace while humming at the same time, Aegon chugs the entire liquid and doesn’t let interest even for a second but Aemond… well you have only seen this move in social media but to see his slim and elegant fingers wrapped around the thin glass as he first looks at the color of the wine then swirls the liquid around before taking a whiff of the smell and after that a sip that follows with a deep rumbling from his chest.
You look away as soon as you sense he might turn around and catch you red-handed, taking a long sip of your glass before coughing at the too-sour taste of it.
“Not your favorite, huh?” Hel asks, handing you a piece of bread.
“Absolutely not,” you clear your throat before shooting Aemond a glare when he chuckles at you, “What?”
“Nothing,” he shrugs, “Come on, let's taste the next one.”
The next one is the white wine, it tastes much better than the Dornish Red, less sour but the bitterness of it is intolerable — you are by no means new to drinking alcohol, but wine has always been a tricky drink for you. You go through the third bottle as well, but again, it doesn’t taste excellent, until Aemond opens the Rosè, his arm bulging as he pulls up the corkscrew, making a delicious sound of ‘pop’. 
“Here you go!” Alicent says as she brings a huge plate of lime and Tangerines to the table to cleanse your pallets before you have the next drink.
“How did you find Tangerines in the summer?” You ask excitedly, side eyeing Aemond as he pours the wine in your glasses before he sits down and grabs the Tangerine from you.
“Not easy to find, but you can trust Criston with these things,” she looks at Cole who’s standing in the door frame with a glass of Dornish Red. How typical.
“What are you doing?” You ask Aemond before you take a sip from your drink, humming in joy as you finally taste the most delicious Rosè you could have ever had.
“What does it look like? I’m peeling it for you,” he answers as if you have asked the most stupid question ever.
“Oh, okay, thank you,” you smile at him, completely dumbfounded by the amount of consideration he’s shown towards you today. You must look so bashful as you avert your eyes from him and stare into your glass, trying to stop the thoughts from flowing in your mind.
“Here,” he hands you the peeled Tangerine before he rises up from his seat and extends his hand to you, “come on, I promised you a tour and the vineyard looks so beautiful now.”
“Alright,” you put your hand in his, letting him pull you on your feet effortlessly, keeping you straight when you wobble a bit. You thank him shyly, reaching to grab your glass as well and leave the wine cellar. 
“Why did the previous cellar not have enough room for all of you?” You ask suddenly, eating a piece of the Tangerine and offering him one as he leads you towards the staircase that reaches the vineyard.
“It was Viserys’, not ours,” he shrugs, “besides, Daeron and I were underage, we couldn’t drink—“
“This is… beautiful,” you exclaim the moment you step on the grass-covered path, the rows of Grenache trees have made a breathtaking sight, “how can you visit here so little? This is out of this world!”
“I’m glad you like it here,” Aemond smiles softly at you, watching as you slowly walk through the path, finishing your fruit before you reach and take one of the leaves between your fingers, slowly caressing it before taking a sip of your wine.
“It’s so dreamy, why didn’t you hold your wedding here?” You facepalm yourself, giving him an apologetic smile, “Sorry…”
“Sometimes people just… forget, and I think that’s what I want too, but… the wound is still fresh, I think about her more than I should,” he steps next to you, one hand in his pocket while the other swirls the rose wine in his glass, “besides, this place is too beautiful to waste it on someone like Alys, yeah, I loved her but…I was blinded by her sweet words.”
“I know, it’ll take a little while to get there, you know. Sometimes you feel unworthy, so ugly and bruised by everything but… it’ll get better.”
“It will, this place helps a bit, and I’m sure Aegon’s massive parties will be very helpful as well,” he grins at you.
“Yeah? Well, it definitely feels like a new beginning, right?” You ask him, taking a step away from him, biting your lip while smiling, keeping your eyes on him as he scoffs, “Which one will you choose for your birthday party, sir?”
“Which one did you like?” He asks and takes a step forward, finishing his glass. He hears his Mum calling you to go for lunch, but before you go, you answer him.
“The Rosè.”
515 notes · View notes
asumi2020202 · 4 months ago
Text
You and I.. We were Born to Die
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader
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Summary: Princess Y/n, The Foreseer and Princess Rhaenys, The Queen who never was, were chosen to fly to Rook's Rest.
A/n: It's just a different ending than the one they actually presented in the show. I just wanted to write something for Aemond. Anyways, Thank you for reading!
Note:
Reader is Rhaenys' granddaughter.
Reader's dragon is Moonfyre The Nightdream. She was one of the last eggs of Balerion and Dreamfyre. She is only 9 years old during the Dance of the Dragons.
Reader can Foresee glimpses of the future.
__________________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ_______________
Cole and his army were marching towards Rook's Rest. The council was in distress in the absence of the Queen.
The lords argued with themselves and the Heir to the Throne. Pointing out their views on the matter. Y/n stood beside her brother and Princess Rhaenys.
The council's bickering halted as the Queen suddenly walked in.
Jacaerys, your brother, looked very dissatisfied with your mother, the Queen. They argued as to who would go to Rook's Rest.
Your mother volunteered herself which made Jace rage up.
"Send me" Jacaerys said with confidence.
"No" Rhaenyra replied with a sarcastic laugh.
"I will go to Rook's Rest and wipe Cole's line and return-"
"You lack the experience." Rhaenyra stopped Jace's argument.
"You must send me. Meleys is the second largest dragon you have." Rhaenys intervened, to which Rhaenyra felt speechless.
Rhaenys gave Corlys a smile before leaving the room. A vision flashed before your eyes as your body stilled.
Meleys getting killed.
Rhaenys falling to her death.
There were..... two dragons.
One was Sunfyre you thought you saw... But you couldn't recognise the other.
Your mother's calling snapped you out of your vision. You looked panicked. Your mother and brother sensed something wrong.
"Y/n-" Jace reached for you before you said
"Send me as well"
"That cannot be done sweet girl." Rhaenyra said.
"It must be! Rhaenys- .... I saw her. And Meleys! They were ambushed. There were two dragons! Aegon will come! She cannot go alone! She Will Die!"
Rhaenyra looked shocked at your outburst. She pondered for a while before agreeing.
Moonfyre and Meleys were the largest dragons of the blacks. Rhaenyra trusted her daughter's judgement.
_________________________________________
As you walked to the Dragon Pit, you saw no one. No one dared to come closer to your child. They feared their lives.
Rhaenys had left early. You left an hour after she had left. You doubted if you could catch upto her. Meleys was the fastest dragon.
Moonfyre let out a groan as she flew through the clouds to Rook's Rest.
Your memories flashed before you. The first time you rode a dragon was with your father. It was Seasmoke.
"Kepa! Soo high! Hehe" little y/n threw her arms up in the air as Seasmoke flew through the clouds, huffing proudly.
"Yes. Do you like it? Being here atop the clouds?" Laenor asked his daughter who only giggled and said.
"Yes kepa" laenor smiled and said "If you like, we can fly on Seasmoke every now and then. Just don't tell your mother or i won't hear the end of it."
You smiled at the memory. Those times perished very quickly, right infront of your eyes.
You could only look ahead now, not behind. You may not even make it out alive today. But you'll die knowing that you tried.
_________________________________________
Meleys tackled Sunfyre in the sky as the roar of another dragon was heard. Larger wings taking off in the sky.
Vhagar had arrived.
"Thank the gods!" Aegon exclaimed before his face turned to horror upon realisation of what was to come.
"Dracarys!" Aemond said
"No! Noo!" Aegon screamed trying to take cover of his dragon. Meleys fled the moment Vhagar breathed fire.
Meleys was away from Vhagar and Sunfyre. Rhaenys felt no hope returning back home. She would fight. She would fight here and die. She closed her eyes and opened them slowly before saying
"Angōs Meleys.."
Meleys turned back to the fight, she gave a look to Rhaenys which she reciprocated. Rhaenys tightened her strap, and held tighter to the saddle.
Vhagar and Meleys were flying towards each other, when suddenly...
A loud roar could be heard...
Moonfyre came out of the clouds. Her size a close match to Vhagar.
She was one of the unhatched egg of Balerion and Dreamfyre before Balerion passed.
"Dracarys!"
All eyes went on the White dragon and her rider as she breathed fire. Vhagar flew away from the fire before she could collide with Meleys.
Rhaenys watched as Moonfyre the 9 year old dragon chased after Vhagar the 180 year old dragon. Both almost equal in size.
"Angōs Moonfyre!" Y/n shouted to her dragon.
Aemond looked back once. He didn't anticipate that another dragon, let alone the dragon of his once betrothed, would be coming to Rook's Rest.
He didn't turn away and flee. Vhagar turned back and charged towards the Nightdream.
The largest dragons collided with each other. Moonfyre clawed at Vhagar's wing as the Queen of the Dragons let out a loud wail.
Rhaenys got rid of any of the remaining green soldiers before joining Y/n in her battle.
Y/n grunted as Moonfyre flew away just in time to dodge Vhagar's attack.
Meleys came in and clawed at Vhagar's right wing. Tearing away some flesh from her wing.
Aemond, knowing he couldn't win and fled from Rook's Rest.
Yet amongst all, two were completely forgotten.....
Aegon the Usurper and Sunfyre the Golden....
Meleys told y/n that the last she saw them was when Sunfyre crashed near the woods.
Nodding at her grandmother's word, Y/n took off towards the direction of the woods along with Rhaenys.
_________________________________________
Moonfyre and Meleys were just a few feet away.
As you walked through the woods with Rhaenys, she drew out her sword for protection.
The two of you saw smoke coming out. Upon a closer look, the two of you saw Aegon and Sunfyre.
Aegon's body partly burned and bent. While Sunfyre's one wing was almost torn.
Rhaenys and you shared a look before deciding that you both would take Aegon back to Dragonstone.
Sunfyre was smaller than Moonfyre so she could carry the Gold dragon with her feet.
_________________________________________
"Your grace you must calm down-" Corlys tried to reason.
"How can I possibly calm down?! I don't know if my girl would return safely! I cannot lose another child!" Rhaenyra said, her voice raising.
All became silent....
A loud roar was heard. Rhaenyra and the rest ran outside. There they were...
Moonfyre and Meleys.
Rhaenyra squinted her eyes which widened when she saw what came with the dragon riders.
Moonfyre dropped Sunfyre's body a bit far before landing on the beach.
Y/n came down from Moonfyre as Rhaenys came down from Meleys, taking Aegon down with her.
Guards took Aegon's body away. He would be dealt with afterwards.
Rhaenyra ran and hugged her daughter. She offered Rhaenys a smile and thanked her for protecting her daughter.
Baela ran and hugged y/n as she hid her face in y/n's neck.
_________________________________________
When night came over Driftmark, you stood near the balcony. A letter in your right hand. You turned back to your trusted maid and gave her the letter.
She nodded and quickly left from to room. She was to deliver that letter to the one eyed prince or rather..... The Kinslayer..
You gently took the letter you had received from him that evening in your arms, reading it again.
You look up at the sky, closing your eyes as Moonfyre soared above the sky, your white hair flowing away from your face due to the wind.
The letter which you had received made you question everything. You do love that man even though he killed your brother..
Dear y/n,
I didn't expect to see you today. I realised after today that this war is neither yours nor mine to fight yet we both find ourselves tangled in it.
I wished for the throne because my brother is unfit for it. But I realise now that... I wish for you more. That I need you more than any throne, any power.
Aegon will die and so will the other Greens. I know that you would not believe me but I am willing to leave my grudges and be with you.
I need you not some Baratheon girl.
I have realised that you.. and i... We were born to die... together....
That was what the letter stated. You stilled as a vision flashed in your eyes.
Your little brother..... Was it Aegon or was it Viserys? Who ever it was.. looked quite grown up...
He was getting coronated....by Aemond..
You stood beside him, and on the opposite side stood Lord Cregan Stark...
You panted as your vision ended, eyes regaining their color.
Maybe everything was going to okay after the war ends.. You and Aemond lived.. your brother sat on the throne..you could only hope the rest of the family was okay.
You felt relieved a bit by the vision, thinking about the letter you had sent.
It stated that he must accept Rhaenyra as the queen and pledge loyalty to her. If he doesn't, there isn't any thing you can do. He already took your brother, your mother won't let go of that easily but he could try.
The last line was one of the same lines he wrote to you.....
"You and I .... We were born to Die...."
-Lillian
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novaursa · 2 months ago
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hello !! i hope ur doing amazing and i wanted to say how much i rlly enjoy reading ur work like its always amazing and just MWAH chef’s kiss fr fr !!
do you think you can do a short writing for either aemond or aegon and how they betray their mother and grandsire for the reader <3 ! sorry if it’s not detailed this is my first time requesting 😔💕
oh and if u can’t i completely understand bookie !!
Broken by War
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- Summary: When his mother and grandsire declare you a threat to be rid off, Aemond betrays his family for you.
- Paring: niece!reader/Aemond Targaryen
- Note: The reader is the daughter of Rhaenyra and is bonded with Vermithor.
- Rating: Mature 16+ (just to be safe)
- Next Part: 2
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff
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The pressure in the small council chamber was stifling, every member seated at the long, dark table focused on the map sprawled before them. A heavy silence blanketed the room as Dowager Queen Alicent’s voice echoed through the stone walls, calm but insistent.
"We must strike at Rook’s Rest," she said, her eyes glinting with determination. "Vermithor is a threat that grows with each passing day. We cannot allow her to roam free."
Otto Hightower, standing at her side, nodded in agreement. "Rhaenyra has grown too bold. Your niece wields too much power with that dragon. Vermithor must be neutralized, Aemond. Only Vhagar has the strength to bring the beast down, and only you have the will to do what must be done."
Aemond sat at the far end of the table, silent until now, his one violet eye fixated on the map. His jaw clenched as the voices of his mother and grandfather droned on, discussing tactics to trap her. You. The only person he had loved, the one who haunted his dreams and memories of youth. 
The very mention of your name, though unsaid, sent a ripple of heat through his chest. His gaze shifted from the map to Alicent, then to Otto, as they spoke of you and Vermithor as mere obstacles—just another enemy to be destroyed. 
But you were not a mere enemy. You were his niece, the daughter of Rhaenyra, and the girl who had once shared moments of innocent laughter with him. Before the war, before the bloodshed, before the divide of loyalties had driven them to opposite sides of this cursed Dance. How could they expect him to harm you?
A sharp crack split the air. The sound of his fists slamming against the table reverberated through the chamber, startling everyone into silence. Alicent and Otto turned, eyes wide, as Aemond rose from his seat, his face a mask of anger and resolve.
“I will not harm her.” His voice was low, dangerous, shaking with barely contained fury. “I will not harm my niece.”
“Aemond,” Alicent said softly, her brow furrowing as she reached out a hand as if to calm him. “She is a threat. You must understand—”
“No,” Aemond snapped, cutting her off. His gaze burned as he turned on them. “You expect me to kill her? To kill the one person I have loved since we were children? Vermithor is no more a threat than Vhagar is. And Y/N—she is not the enemy you make her out to be.”
Otto’s face remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something dark in his eyes. “She rides a dragon that is an old menace. Rhaenyra and her supporters will stop at nothing to see the end of this war, even if it means your death. You know this, Aemond. Only you can put an end to this before she burns the realm to ash.”
Aemond’s gaze flicked back to the map, the cold stone beneath his hands, and then to the faces of those who had shaped his life, who had molded him into a weapon. But not for this. Not against you. His chest heaved with barely contained emotion as the weight of everything pressed down on him—his duty, his family, his love for you.
Slowly, he shook his head, his voice low but firm. “No. I will not do it.”
“Aemond,” Alicent’s voice sharpened, desperation edging into it. “Where are you going?”
Aemond had already turned, his long coat sweeping the floor as he strode toward the door, each step heavy with purpose. He didn’t look back as he answered, the words cutting through the air like a blade. “I am going to Dragonstone. I will kneel before Y/N and Rhaenyra. I will beg for their forgiveness. For everything. For Lucerys.”
There was a stunned silence in the room as the weight of his words settled. Otto’s voice cut through the quiet, sharp as steel. “They will kill you the moment you set foot on Dragonstone, Aemond.”
Aemond paused at the door, his hand on the cold iron handle, and turned to face them. His eye gleamed with a fierceness that made Alicent flinch. “Then let them. I would rather die at her hand than live knowing I betrayed her.”
He left without another word, his footsteps echoing through the stone corridors, each one bringing him closer to you and the fate he had chosen. The weight of his family’s expectations, of the crown’s demands, fell away with each step. In its place, only one thing remained—his love for you and the need to right the wrongs that had torn them apart.
As he mounted Vhagar, he knew there was no turning back. His path was set, and for once, it was a path he chose for himself.
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l-uminescent · 3 months ago
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˚⁀➷。˚ THE EYES OF A DRAGON  ━━━ DAERON TARGARYEN X FEM! READER & JACAERYS VELARYON X FEM! READER
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synopsis: the dreary weather of dragonstone results in you recalling the events of the past year. your escape from your first love, daeron targaryen leaves you with a new life as a dragon keeper where you eventually learn to love again, much to jacaerys velaryon's delight. with the calling of the dragon seeds you are needed to protect the crowd against the fury of vermithor's wrath. surprisingly however, you find yourself with a new companion, one in which the green's are keen to acquire. as daeron writes requesting to talk to you again after finding out this news, your loyalty to jacaerys velaryon will evidently be tested with the return of your old lover.
request (rough translation): hello, could you please make a love triangle story between jacaerys x reader x dareon. since she is the daughter of an ancient dragon guardian (reader's mother died when she was born) she was raised by her uncle who is also a guardian of the dragons and her other uncle was a grand maester in ancient times. when she visited her uncle she met dareon, where she had a friendship and then dareon broke reader’s heart and returned to dragonstone. the war began to recover the throne of rhaenyra and jacaerys calls for the dragon seeds. reader in dragonstone was guarding the nests of dragon eggs by order of her uncle and came across the cannibal who was going to eat the eggs. not wanting that to happen, she tried to calm and control the terrifying dragon, and let her ride it. she realises that she is a dragon seed, therefore meeting jacaerys and striking up a friendship with him. after a while, in battle she meets daeron again. he tries to apologise, telling her he loved her and that he wants her to come back with him - it could be because of her, or the dragon she possesses, as she and cannibal are capable of seriously injuring vhagar and destroying the green’s. but, the reader loves jacaerys and doesn’t plan on betraying him.
notes: thank you sm @alyssa-dayne for requesting!! i kind of went off on a tangent and completely disregarded some of the requests you made, i’m so sorry😭 i hope you enjoy what i did write in its place though bc i had so much fun writing it and absolutely loved your request!! ive also seen a tiktok fan casting harry gilby as daeron and omg i am in love ?? and will be using him from now on. both daeron and Jace have been aged up to 21.
warnings: kind of dark! daeron, language, misogyny, violence, blood mentioned, angst, fluff w jace, friendship w ulf
word count: 4.9k
IT HAD BEEN ALMOST A YEAR SINCE YOU HAD STEPPED FOOT IN KING'S LANDING LAST. the pain of it all was still an open wound. still raw, still bleeding. it would take time for it to heal, time for the cut to be fully stitched up, to pick up the broken pieces. you were prepared to take all the time in the world for it to mend itself since escaping the viper's den. but it seemed like the gods were out to get you, throwing you back into the war that cut you in the first place.
it was many many moons ago that you were brought to the capital in the first place. your uncle was a maester and after the passing of your mother thought it would be best that you were to be brought to the red keep. he kept you close, keeping it a secret from the rats in the walls that he was giving you the same education the males received. so you spent many late nights with him, studying the language and histories of old instead of the usual sewing and stitching you would do during the day with your septa.
that was where you met him for the first time. daeron targaryen. you had been studying late with your uncle in the library. you uncle was an avid believer that a girl had every right to the same knowledge as a boy. a creak of a door had broken your study of the history of the seven kingdoms, revealing a slender blonde in its place. he walked over to your dimly lit table greeting your uncle, whispering something you couldn't make out. you studied him as he spoke, hazy mind too frazzled with tiredness to fully comprehend the boy that had been brought before you.  he was an angel to you, nothing like you had ever seen before. you thought the seven had blessed you with his falling from the heavens above, with hair as blonde as the snows in the north and eyes as purple as the flowers that blossomed in high garden you could not help but be enamoured. and that was the beginning of your fall.
you often reflected on that day in the library, meeting daeron for the first time as the rain patters against the walls of stone in dragonstone. being in a room with nothing but your own thoughts and defeaning silence lead you to the edge of madness. most days, it meant you reminisced on your times in the capital and now, as you lay in bed as the fire in the hearth dwindles and your candles burn low, you think of the blonde beauty. you finally understand why your uncle fought so hard to keep you away from the targaryen boys, "cynical beings" he called them as daeron left the library that night. you would never forget how his eyes graced your figure. the soft smile playing on his lips was a definite contrast to the dark hue that took hold in his eyes. you failed to pick up on this, too besotted by the man in front. panic however, was written clear across your uncle's face. he was accustomed to the targaryen's and their 'favourites'. how a being of lesser status would be that intriguing to them that they had to keep them near was a tale that was repeated constantly in the cycle of the dynasty. "they would stop at nothing to get what they desire, my dear." you remember him warning you, "and i began to fear that daeron targaryen has set his sights on you."
you had wished you heeded the look of distain and the words of warning from your uncle. yet you were so naive to the ways of the world, so young to be thrown into the den of dragons. you recount the day he began to approach you. it was subtle to begin with, he often sought you out to walk in the gardens when your uncle was meant to be teaching him. sneaking away early claiming he was needed to train in the yard, yet it was to seek you out instead. it was every so often at the start, you used to mistake it for coincidence. but it soon turned to daeron needing to see you all the time, glancing at you as he trained, the odd walk in the garden was never enough. and so it began.
daeron began to court you in every sense of the word. small trinkets and gifts would often be sent to your chambers. blushes would stain your cheeks as looks of wanting were shared across feasts and celebrations. touches, that were held a tad too long were daeron's favourites for a while.  he adored seeing the bashfulness on your face, as his slender fingers tapped your waist as he sought you out for every dance. 
you were a fool to fall for it. the targaryen's were a messy family, a mess you had no business being thrown into. but, you were drawn in just the same. the longing glances and subtle touches, turned into stolen kisses as daeron snuck his way through the passages maegor had built. you had thought you were in love with the man, and he with you.
how wrong you were. 
and you were too late to realise.
with the death of king viserys came what would be known for centuries as the 'dance of the dragons.' and you had just so happened to find yourself in the middle of it. your strong-mindedness and wilful opinions clearly saw you taking the side of the blacks. what right did anyone have to deny the heir the king had named just because she was born a girl? you often thought. you saw how unfairly women were treated by the scholars, how they were subjected to needle work with the septa's rather than the histories from the maesters. with the reign of a new queen you had hope that she would put an end to the inequality that was evident throughout the realm.
this sense of hope came crashing immediately with the entrance of daeron to your chambers. he spoke of aegon being raised as king. "it is only right." he would exclaim, "he is male. what use would my half-sister be if  she were to sit the throne, she is too weak."
you were enraged by this. the blatant disregard for rhaenyra, branding her as weak felt like a swift knife to your stomach. "you think i am weak then too daeron?" you recalled saying with a shake to your voice. "just as i am a woman, you deem me incapable. you think me stupid? hmm? you believe just because i was born this, i would not be fit to do anything other than sew, and produce heirs?"
you had always heard the people of the court say that the targaryen's were closer to god than man, something you would often brush aside. you could never picture your sweet daeron as mad as they claim the rest to be. but, you had finally awoken from whatever haze-induced state in that comes with being in love with a targaryen. the look in his lilac eyes would be one you would never forget, haunting your nightmares for moons to come. you now understood the fear of those who crumbled beneath that of the conqueror, swearing fealty. daeron's eyes conveyed the message words could not. you would learn to fear him, if you ever dared cross him.
tears, made themselves known then. spilling from your cheeks, you began to silently cry as the man you loved left you with that. daeron, would never see you equal just as he would never see rhaenyra fit to sit the iron throne. because of what you had been born. 
and thus with that you had made your decision, no amount of fear could stop you. with the news of aegon's planned crowning seeping through the walls of the red keep, and your once whole heart being left behind also, you had slipped away into the shadows, disguising as a fisherman's daughter as you and your uncle sailed to dragonstone to declare for queen rhaenyra targaryen, first of her name.
it was hard at first in dragonstone. your uncle sought audience with the queen, stating what had occurred on dragonstone and how you had managed to escape. nevertheless, the queen was wary of you. it was no secret that daeron had began to court you, how the two of you would eventually marry. they did not know you had discovered the darker side, the misogyny within. a look of sympathy was evident in the queen's eyes as she saw your heart break all over again as you recalled the story, she herself being reminded of the betrayal of alicent hightower. her good-will meant that you were allowed to stay within the castle, your uncle taking up schooling the queen's sons and you were to begin work with the dragon keepers along with your other uncle, who you barely knew. 
the many days of training with the other keeper's kept your thoughts off daeron's betrayal. you had hardened over the course of many moons, building your walls high and swearing to never give your heart to another.
that would be seen to not have lasted very long due to a certain dark-haired prince.
you had met jacaerys velaryon for the very first time when you were sent to keep guard of the smaller dragon's, vermax being one of them. you had tried your very best to make yourself scarce in his presence as you patrolled the pits. but the loud roar's of the dragon's still made you jump every so often, and in doing so you had dropped your spear. landing with a loud clatter, jacaerys' head had whipped around to see what had happened, only to find you. a chuckle had escaped his lips at your clumsiness, calling out a "new to the job?"  much to your unamusment.
"yes, well, my prince i am very much new to being this close to a dragon." you bit back in response.
a second had passed before jacaerys had beckoned you closer to him and his dragon. not wanting to anger him, you gingerly approached; still deathly afraid of dragons. 
"vermax here is a sweet dragon, here place you hand atop his snout. you will not come to any danger so long as i do not will it." he teased, but seeing your face pale he quickly announced he was only jesting.
your hand shook as it rose from your side as you slowly reached for the dragon. faltering, as vermax breathed out smoke. jacaerys noted your fear and guided your hand with his placing it on his dragon's snout. goosebumps rose across your skin at the contact and you were sure your sickly face regained some colour as your cheeks heated at the close proximity.  "see i told you, you would not get hurt."
and so it began again,except it was different this time. 
you found it almost easier to love jacaerys, or jace as he wanted you to call him. he was not as needy as daeron was, allowing you to always have your space but making sure you knew he would be with you in a heartbeat if you needed him. you adored the boy, how freckles splattered across his cheeks like stars, how his dark curls sometimes got in his eyes when he yielded as sword, and how he respected you. jace would always take the time to help you with your studies if needs be, to teach you how to wield your keeper's spear. he treated you as an equal, something daeron never did. the softness of jace was something you also never had with daeron. the kisses shared, were full of longing, full of love differing, heavily from the fierce, lustful ones of your previous lover. he was everything daeron was not.
you knew then that you wanted to marry jacaerys. there was not a second doubt in your mind. your loyalty for him was unwavering, he had made you learn to trust love again. you owed him everything, and you swore you would repay the love kindness he gave you as you still looked out at the dreary weather of dragonstone.
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with jace's calling of the dragonseeds, your skills as a keeper were put to the test as many poor folk streamed in from the streets of king's landing and dragonstone alike. the drone of voices woke you from your daze as you paced up and down the stony column that separated you from the dark unknown of vermithor's cave. both men and women started to appear being lead by rhaenyra herself, jace slowly behind. you were confused with the lack of dragon keeper's accompanying her, as it seemed to be only you and your uncle who accompanied the crowd. 
you stood to the side, as both rhaenyra and your uncle called for the dragon in high valyrian - a language you were still learning to speak. a slow, menacing growl greeted rhaenyra in response to her call and movement caused the crowd to stir fearfully. from what you had studied about the ways of the keepers, was that dragon's could smell the fear of the person approaching. and with a crowd this afraid you were sure vermithor would not react well. 
the rising of the copper beast saw many yelp as he beared his blood stained teeth. despite your focus on the dragon ahead, you noticed those of higher status leaving to take shelter in the stone stands above.  you willed yourself to take a few deep breathes as your eyes met jace's worried ones, he took note of how you remained still not daring to follow the other lord's footsteps. he knew how stubborn you were, you swore to protect the people from the dragon's and he knew you would not leave no matter how hard he begged.
a forced smiled adorned your lips as you stared back at jace, a nod following, telling him that you were to do the role his mother had assigned to you.  facing the beast as jace returned to safety you pointed your spear at it, forcing yourself to remain as calm as possible, you slowly approached him. it was no use. the overpowering fear of the dragonseeds had sent vermithor into a hunger induced frenzy, sending sprouts of fire into the group. chaos erupted as the fire took hold of the first seed who had tried to approach. rolling out of the way, you had began to push a group of star-struck women who seemed to be rooted to their spot. you shouted an ear-defeaning "run"as loud as you possibly could to as many people as possible, as you stayed as close to the edge of the column trying to take vermithor's attention away from the others.  adrenaline coursed through your veins as you attempted to poke the dragon with your spear. yet it was no use, vermithor moved too fast and too furiously for you to catch him sending waves of fire to whatever living thing he could see as he did so.
jace watched on in absolute terror as you moved yourself closer to the dragon, dodging at only the last second to avoid the ripple of flame. his hands gripped the ledge of the stand he looked out upon tightly, knuckles whitening as he did. he had already tried to run down the steps to pull you to him, but the queen's guard had stopped him in the process, his mother deemed him too important as heir to be killed in such a way. so all jace could do is watch, praying to all the gods he could think of to grant him this wish of keeping you alive.
a loud shout from behind you had alerted you of the oncoming flames as you tried to help another group of people to safety, rolling out of the way you had landed up against rock who seemed to also cover the man who had warned you of vermithor's next attack. returning your gratitude, you had grabbed the man's cloak and had pulled him against the wall at the back of the cave. the two of you grabbed ahold of two of the many torches that lit the dark room, and scaled the edge of the cave, holding onto the side as you weaved in and out of the connecting paths between each lair. "thank you for saving me back there." you remember saying to the man. as the two of you walked, you had learned that he was called ulf, and claimed to be the bastard son of baelon targaryen. you did seem to be weary of the claim, you had heard from many the love the man had for his wife alyssa, swearing not to take another lover for as long as he remained alive, but now wasn't the time to question it so you left it at that. 
as you continued to walk for what felt like hours, ulf roared in happiness that he seen a light at the end of the awful narrow cave you had ventured down. the two of you began to break out into a run, thanking the gods that you had managed to make it out unscathed. the feelings were short-lived though, as the alley had opened up to the largest cave you had ever seen, and an even larger eye glistened in greeting you as you stepped out. 
the sound of blood could be heard in your ears as you realised that you were now face to face with the largest dragon on dragonstone - the cannibal. your flight or fight seemed to kick in that moment, months of keeper training seemed to as well, as you shoved ulf back down the corridor you came down and spun to point your weapon at the monster ahead. 
the dragon seemed to be almost taken aback by your courage, nose flaring with smoke as you stood eyes wide with the spear facing him. the cannibal knew you were no match for him, yet it seemed he admired your courage. he studied you, as you also studied him waiting for his attack. his black scales made him blend in easily with the darkness of his lair, only the torch you had dropped when you pushed ulf seemed to mark his presence as well as his gleaming green eyes. they seemed to bore into your own, as he assessed whether you were friend or foe. you did not break the eye contact once, your hands still tightly gripping the spear as if it was your lifeline, your only hope at survival. 
it seemed however, that this hope prevailed. the cannibal had made his decision of you, bowing slightly smoke emitted from his gigantic snout almost knocking you down. it seemed somewhat friendly. you could not believe what you had done, with your courage it appeared that you had somehow managed to claim the largest dragon alive, the first person to ever do it. gods you could not wait to show jace about this. 
you remembered that day like it was almost yesterday despite many weeks having passed since. jace had almost murdered you. he thought you had perished in the flames of vermithor. as you stumbled up to the castle to tell the queen what had occured, jace had been there too. he had kissed you in front of everyone, not caring that the rumours would swirl afterwards. he was in sheer relief that you had returned to him safely and managing to tame the cannibal in the process. 
in that time also, you had taken to flying the cannibal. only a short distance at first, around dragonstone as you were still wary of his size and his cannibalistc nature having to fight him many a time to not eat the eggs laid by the other dragons on island, it took him a while to gain your trust and he you due to his unease with having a rider. it was not until you began to speak to him in high valyrian that the bond between the two of you was sealed, completely unbreakable.
and at this, you woke earlier than usual this morning to fly him to king's landing - making it known to the green's that rhaenyra had the largest dragon on her side. a smirk was plain on your face as you sawed the skies on your beloved dragon, and you were sure he held the same expression. it almost felt revengeful as you lapped around king's landing dipping as close to the castle as possible without being in reach of arrows. your intent was to prove to daeron you were stronger than he thought - you had claimed the biggest dragon after all. you had made sure that all were to see. the cannibal seemed to enjoy the screams of terror revelling at the attention, he let out a defeaning roar as he dipped and rose again, just to sweeten the revenge. 
you knew it was time to go when you heard the rustling of trees in the distance. vhagar was indeed no match to your dragon but you weren't ready to test the water's just yet with a dragon nearly the size of your own. you drew back from the capital, as the she-dragon's body became visible in the skies. "let us go home"you spoke to the cannibal. heeding your words he carried you across the waters back to the safety of dragonstone. as he settled once more in his lair and a stern "don't eat any more eggs!" from you, you began to clamber back to the castle, your ego boosted now that aemond targaryen deemed you a threat. you had only wished now to see the targaryen brothers reactions when they discover that it was you that rode the largest beast in the realm. 
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the rain pattered steadily against the window as you lay in bed, recounting these moments. the candle's in your room seemed to flicker as they reached the end of their wicks giving you the sign that it was time to go. the note clutched in your hand deemed that the whispers seemed to reach daeron targaryen's ears quickly enough, he was now informed that the rider of the cannibal was none other than his old lover. you pulled your robe on, reading the piece of parchment for the final time before the candle's fizzled out completely. daeron had requested to meet you, no violence, no fights. he just wanted to talk. your curiosity got the best of you sadly and you wrote back earlier in the day saying you would talk peacefully. he had agreed to meet you on your own shore, at the edge of dragonstone. it was safely out of the way of the black's, meaning that they would not be able to see the meeting but not far enough that a screech from a dragon would go unnoticed, so you deemed yourself safe enough.
even though the cannibal blended perfectly with the night sky, the sheer ferocity of his size meant that there was absolutely no way you would be able to bring him without being spotted by a guard of some sort. so you entrusted the help of ulf, the man you had protected from your dragon many moons ago. the two of you had struck up some sort of odd friendship despite the age difference being vast, you found the man quite funny and he you. he could not believe a girl as clumsy as you had managed to save him from the cannibal as well as claiming him in the process.
ulf was the perfect man to deliver you to daeron. as you snuck into the dragon cave silverwing resided, he had already mounted the dragon - a sense of excitement emitted from him for doing something so secretive, something the queen could never find out about. you however were the exact opposite. nerves ate at your stomach as you gripped onto elf's torso. you had thought you were going to be sick, you hadn't seen daeron in almost a year. you wondered if he looked different, if he sounded different, if he thought different.
you had to force these thoughts out of your mind as silverwing made her descent in the trees a few yards away from the clearing where daeron and tessarion stood. you did not want him to know that you had entrusted someone with the knowledge of this secret meeting, so you had told ulf to patrol the skies and you would wave at the sky if you needed him. he agreed to go reluctantly, only after making you promising to give him a ride on cannibal the following day. you huffed out a laugh at this, ulf always knew what to say when you felt anxious. 
as your friend and his dragon took to the skies again, you began to enclose the distance between you and the blonde prince. anxiety once again took reign of your body, you could feel your heart pounding in your ears and you hands began to shake uncontrallby. you forced them to play with the ring jace had given you in promise that he would marry you after the war had ended. your mind grounded itself at the thought of jace, even as you came face to face with daeron. you thought of jace, how you had to return home safely to him.
"you claimed the cannibal then." daeron spoke. he hadn't changed one bit since you seen him last, his lilac eyes still sparkled in endearment at you even after all this time. 
a sigh escaped your lips as you drew even closer to him, "didn't think i could do it?" you responded snarkily, head tilting to the side slightly as awaited his answer. 
all he could do was shake his head and laugh. "you have not changed one bit. i have missed you."
your eyes were slightly wide at his confession, taken aback by it. you weren't expecting that, you were prepared for daeron to beg you to join the green's, for him to tell you how you would be increasingly useful to win the war. you had not prepared for his expression of feelings. he took your look of bewilderment as a sign to continue.
"i still stand for aegon's claim, he is stronger than my half-sister, but i wish for you to come back. aegon said he will pardon you for your crimes of betrayal and treason if you return with me to king's landing. we will marry and you will become a princess of the realm."
there it was. you knew his confession was too good to be true. "oh speak plainly daeron." you spat. "you only wish for me because of my dragon." rage took hold as you moved close, tilting your head up, you began look him in the eyes. you wished to convey to him the sheer anger you felt at his words, just like the look he had given you all that time ago. except now, the blood of the dragon ran within you too. 
you were now nearly pressed to the boy, your voice dropped to a dangerously low whisper as you continued. "you see me as weak daeron. i alone, have claimed a dragon twice as powerful as yours and you still do not deem me as worthy, as an equal. i will never join the cause of a fucking usurper when the woman who i fight for deserves the throne."
he hummed in response, a wicked smile taking over his face. "you only fight for them because of that bastard." the look of shock on your face was clear as you faltered slightly at his sharp words. "didn't think i had heard? i have given you a chance to join me, my love and you have refused. i will bring fire and blood upon that bastard until you have no choice but to stand by my fucking side."
his hands came up to grip your jaw forcing you to look into his eyes as he spoke the last sentence. you knew what he was capable of and you knew what he said he meant to make true. that didn't stop you from scoffing at his words, your tongue rolling over your lips as you did so "he is more man than you will ever be daeron. bastard or not i will marry him, or i will be long cold and dead in the ground. either or, it would happen long before i would ever, ever stand by you and you betray the man i love."
at this, daeron used the hand he had on your jaw to shove you away, anger plain on his face. the heart that had once bled for him was replaced by something cold, something darker. the love for jace was the only thing in it that burned strong, you would do anything to protect him from the monster before you. you promised yourself, you would die before you let daeron touch a hair on his head. you weren't the same naive girl you had been when you first laid eyes on daeron targaryen. and you weren't the same stupid girl who coward when that  his lilac bore into yours the night you left. as that look returned to his face before he once again turned to leave, tears did not stream from your eyes as it did all that time ago. instead, you held his gaze, your own pupils mirroring that look - you now too held the eyes of a dragon.
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malisorn · 4 months ago
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𖤓 || 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞
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Pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Summary | Aemond has begged for many things in his life and for one last time, he gets down on his knees and begs for you ๋࣭ ⭑
Warnings & Suggestions | Fluff & tiny bit of Angst, soft dark!aemond, heavily inspired by Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want by Deftones (originally The Smiths)
Speak the wrong thing, in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
These words have rotted deep inside Aemond's mind ever since he was a child, for he has always been the butt of a joke to his own brother and nephews.
In the beginning, he lets them jest all they wish, enduring their laughter as if it meant nothing. But after times and times of the same old jokes, it is no more fun, it has never been fun.
He started to defend himself, spit back at Aegon's words and try to fight, but still he failed. And in the last resort, he found himself on his knees, crying over and over again.
“Please, please, please, give me the biggest dragon in the world.” Tears streaming down as he begs the gods. He promises to be a changed man if he ever has a dragon.
And the gods seem to have heard him but nothing in the world has ever come without its price. For the very first time in his life, Aemond got his wish as he rode Vhagar through the dark night sky. And for a minute, he felt like he had own the world. After countless nights of practicing High Valyrian, imagining a dragon in front of him as he shouted the word out loud.
“Dohaerās!”
“Lykirī!”
“Sōvēs!”
Now, slowly patting the back of Vhagar, this is real, seeing his tears dropping on Vhagar, this is truly real. He has finally proved himself worthy to be a dragonrider to his father, a perfect son to his mother and a true Targaryen to his brother and his nephews.
His thoughts run short when he notices the Velaryons and the Strongs from below.
“I will not fear them, Vhagar has proved me worthy of her, I will not fear anyone.” He thinks to himself as he comes down to face them.
“It’s him!”
“It’s me.” Aemond feels confidence runs through him like a raging fire, pushing him to all the ways to say things he's always afraid of.
“Vhagar is my mother's dragon!” The girl argued hard with no less confidence than him. “Your mother's dead.” Aemond worries he is too bold but there is no stopping from this moment. “And Vhagar has a new rider now.” He continues with pride on his face.
“She was mine to claim!” Rhaena shouts with her twin sister’s comfort from the back. Aemond was silent for a second as he observes everyone around, none of their dragons can compare to his. Arrax is young, Vermax can barely obey and Moondancer is nothing to Vhagar. Smiling at his realization, “Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride, it would suit you.” He looks at all of them. Threats shouted with punches exchanged, Aemond has insulted them just as they once did to him but never in his life has he thought something so brutal would happen to him.
“The scar will heal but the eye could never do the same, your grace.” Aemond grips the chair hard, he has lost his eye. He looks at his mother with tears full of pain. “Please, please, please, mother, help me.” He thinks to the mother and his own as the maester stitches his scar.
And his mother tried to help him, with the same pleadings in her eyes as she looked at his father, The King, the one who can truly give him everything but the King didn't return the same look in his eyes, he gave those to only his daughter and bash away Aemond's pain. However, his mother couldn't give up, she stood with duty heavy on her back, running to takes Lucerys’s eye. Everything from that night still haunts him and he couldn't look at the King the same.
Aemond did become a changed man, just as he promised to the gods in exchange for a dragon. Nog the kind of change he has imagined. Instead, he has become a brute, poisoned with hatred and not even an ounce of sympathy left inside of him.
The Sept is no longer his place of comfort and he rarely begs the gods for anything. Aemond believes he has gotten everything he ever wanted, everything he needs to be a Targaryen. But no, it is far from the truth. Deep inside, Aemond feared that if he ever dared uttering a single wish to the gods, they would take something important from him in return. It could be his other eye, his title, his dragon or even his own life-
“Please, please, please, let this woman be the bride of mine for I have endured the pain my whole life. Let her be mine, for this will be my one last wish.”
Aemond feels bitterness twists through his words, he feels like a fool being down on his knees. After all these years of resentment, he broke all his promises and ran all his way back to the gods once more time. He said his prayers sternly, the gods must answer his wish after all they've done to him, he believes himself deserving something as dainty and perfect as you.
All of his thoughts slowly fade as his blurring sight clears into the vision of you standing right in front of him, wearing a pure white gown with wild flowers in your hair.
The gods have answered his prayers, you are now his bride.
With each time he blinks, each breath he takes, every single piece of you has finally revived into a wish he has always yearn to be blessed. The way you talk, the way you smile and how you spin around with that white gown of yours, he has never been allured by a woman's beauty like this.
“I am forever grateful to be your wife, my prince.” The sweet words dropping from your lips. He didn't know whether he wanted to be eternally confined by your love or to be freed from your lure. After nights of endless prayers, thinking that his wish has been torn aside and forgotten. But at this sight with you as his bride and from now on, his wife. Aemond feels seen, listened and answered, not only by the judgment of the gods but also by you.
He turns to look at you once more, “Same as I, to be your husband is truly a gift from gods.”
Feeling all smug with his answered prayers, Aemond seems to forget that nothing in the world has ever come without its price. Now, he can enjoy his days and nights with the love of his life but soon, the gods will find their ways and take anything they could in exchange of his one last wish.
masterlist for more
requests are open! feel free to ask ♡
images' credits
Society Lady With a Spray of Lilac by Hermann Clementz
Dancing Fairies by August Malmström
Peacocks and Delphiniums by Jessie Arms Botke
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starogeorgina · 5 months ago
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𝐔𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧
Paring: Aemond Targaryen × Targaryen reader, minor Daemon Targaryen × Targaryen reader
Warnings: Swearing, kidnapping, self harm
1.03
“Shh, shh,” you try to gently rock Daenys to sleep. “Please, calm down, sweet girl.”
Your daughter was brought to you in the early hours since she woke up fussy and wouldn’t latch onto the wet nurse. Luckily, she fed from your breast without issue, but your silver-haired baby was still unhappy and crying. From the flush in Daeny's cheeks and the redness in her gums, you suspect she has started teething.
“Princess,” one of the handmaids approaches you while nervously pulling on the sleeve of her dress. You often wonder how the servants who followed Rhaenyra to Dragonstone felt watching the way their beloved princess was treated. “The maester wishes to speak with you as a matter of urgency. There is a wet nurse in the room down the hall; would you like me to take Daenys to her while you dress?”
Reluctantly, you nod and hand your daughter over to the younger woman. As soon as you’re left alone, you bring the faded nightgown over your head and redress yourself, choosing to put on the light grey gown you were wearing the night you were taken. It was made to accommodate the swell of your stomach, and now the extra fabric hung loose down the front. You had others to choose from, but it was one of the only items you had that was truly yours.
In every passing moon, the maester would examine you for any sign of pregnancy, which was humiliating, so you’d at least attempt to try and maintain a shred of dignity. You comb your hair with your fingers and try to straighten out the creases on your dress. Just as you finish adjusting yourself, the door to the room opens, and the maester, followed by a handmaiden, enters.
You were cursed by the ghosts of your father's blindness and your mother's lies. Your mother claimed that before King Viserys died, he declared he wanted Aegon on the throne, and all the men who deemed a woman unfit to rule believed her. Your father turned a blind eye to your family's scheming for years, and now the future of the realm would be full of war, murder, and misery.
As you dig your nails into the palm of your hand to stop yourself from screaming, blaming your parents for this situation was an easy option. If the throne wasn’t usurped, then envoys would never have been sent; Lucerys would still be alive, as would Jaehaerys, and you and your daughter would be safe in Aemond’s arms.
And if your father had been stronger-willed, none of it would have happened.
Being so caught up in your own thoughts, you don’t notice Prince Daemon entering the room. It’s not until you feel his presence beside you that you finally address him, “What is it?”
“A raven arrived from the red keep; one of my little spies has informed Criston Cole and your cunt of a husband that we have taken you north.”
No, no, no.
“They are currently gathering the green forces and will leave in a couple of days. Which means the false king won’t have that hoary old bitch, Vhagar, to hide behind. With only Sunfyre on his side, we can easily take the city back with the mere threat of Caraxes, Syrax, Vermax, Moondancer, and Tyraxes.”
“Need I remind you, uncle, which side my dragon is on?”
Gripping your jaw tightly, Daemon shoved you against the wall. “Need I remind you, niece, that you’re nothing more than a prisoner? I’ve spared your daughter's life, something the fucking kinslayer didn’t do for Luccerys.”
You slap his hand away and say, “You’ve got what you wanted; you're getting another child. Do not fucking touch me again.”
Daemon places both hands firmly on the wall beside your head, caging you in. His eyes flickered over you; he didn’t quite believe what you just said. “The maester confirmed this?”
“I haven’t bled in two moons; the maester is convinced my stomach will swell again soon.” Sarcastically, you add, “Congratulations; I hope you're as excited as I am.”
After speaking with the maester himself, Daemon kept his original promise and had you move to a larger, more comfortable bedchamber with crimson colors and dragon decor, and soon a crib would be brought in and your daughter would join you. All you cared about was keeping Daenys close.
You feel the lavish oils soothing the ache in your shoulders when one of the handmaidens rubs them onto your skin. This was the first time in many moons you had bathed properly, and the luxury of having a clean body, hair, and clothing wasn’t something you’d take for granted again.
“My Prince,” the handmaiden nods her head at him, then attempts to cover you up with a towel, causing your uncle to chuckle.
“It’s considered bad manners to interrupt a lady while she’s bathing.”
“It’s nothing new," he says as he stands at the bottom of the tub, showing no attempt to advertise his gaze from your bare breasts. “Perhaps I wanted to join you in bathing.”
“I’d rather you drowned me.“
Daemon smirks, “Leave us.”
The handmaiden gives you an apologetic look, then leaves. No matter how many times Daemon spilled his seed inside you, the reality of carrying his child never felt real until now. You’d already suffered on the birthing bed out of duty; now you’d be doing it again to keep Daenys safe. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you taste the salty tears on your lips. “What happens if this pregnancy doesn’t end well?”
“What do you mean?”
“I had two other daughters once; both of them died.”
Daemon comes to the side of the tub and crouches down so he’s eye level with you. “I wasn’t aware.”
Red blotches appear on your chest and neck as you struggle to stop your voice from cracking. “The first girl's name was Anya; she came early after three days of labor.”
Your mother had remained by your side throughout your labor, and the look of horror on her face when she saw the ‘thing’ you delivered would be forever etched in your mind. Anya’s skin was covered in small scars that looked similar to dragon scales. But no matter how monstrous she may have appeared to others, you thought she was beautiful. Against the maesters advice, Aemond visited you before the silent sisters had come to take the baby, and it was the first time since the night he lost his eyes that you’d seen him cry.
“I gave birth to Rhaella the following year; she was born at the end of the fall but was taken by the winter fever.“
The expression on Daemon’s face was hard to read; he himself knew of the pain you and Aemond have suffered from losing a baby. And you could only begin to imagine the grief and suffering the blacks felt after Lucery's death. “And news of this never reached Dragonstone?”
Your eyes sting from crying. “Our family has always been divided; who would have told you?”
“My brother.”
“Ha,” you scoff. “You saw what my father was like in the end. He had consumed so much milk from the poppy that he became oblivious to everything around him; the only person he ever wished to speak with was Rhaenyra.”
Frowning, he skims his finger over the water.
“I feared I would never again bear a living child, but the gods blessed me with Daenys. But I shall ask again, uncle, What will happen if this pregnancy doesn’t end well?”
“You do not want to find out, niece.”
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girl-in-the-chairs-void · 4 months ago
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Kinslayer
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell!reader (fem pronouns used)
Word count: 2k (she’s a baby)
cw: hurt, comfort, soft aemond, mentions of being naked? ANGST ANGST ANGST, the pov switches between aemond/third person and second person soo if you notice it going into “her” and “you”, it’s on purpose please don’t kill me.
a/n: I really wanted to make the little Drabble into a full fic soo here it is!! Not proofread. Let me know your thoughts!!!
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Kinslayer.
That’s what they’ll call him. Rejoicing in celebration after Vhagar mercilessly attacked Arrax and Lucereys Velaryon. His nephew, his kin.
The cold had already seeped through his leather settled in his bones. He felt nothing but the chill of the air as he landed with Vhagar into the dragon pits. The roaring amber of the castle doing nothing to add even an ounce of warmth through him. His eyepatch wet and leaking its colour onto his scar- poorly made for a prince- it seared through him. He took it off immediately, throwing into one of the torches on the wall.
Servants rushed his side, trying to assist him in any way possible but he dismissed them with a stern look before walking towards the small council room. Gods be good, he wanted nothing more than to hide away in his chambers, away from everyone, away from peering eyes of the lords and councilmen, away from Alicent, from Aegon.
But near you. In his chambers where he could be Aemond. Not second son, not ‘The One Eyed Prince’. But only Aemond, your husband. He would take that title to his grave if he could, leaving all his other titles because those titles were given to him on a silver platter, he didn’t ask for them. However, he craved the title of being your husband.
Ever since you were kids. Aemond had taken a liking in sitting in the library with you and talking about history. Sneaking out and taking walks in the Red Keep or the gardens to distract himself from the political side of his life.
You- a simple Tyrell girl who came to Kings Landing when you were only two with your father, Lord Tyrell. Aemond only being three years old had taken a liking to you even when you were only capable of padding on your little feet across the castle. Getting to grow up in Kings landing with the prince and his siblings.
It wasn’t a shock to the realm when King Visereys announced your betrothal to the young prince when you were only eight. Having no idea what the prince held for you in his heart, but you knew he was not one to easily open up. And after what happened at Driftmark, it had taken you quite some time to walk his maze. He’d shut himself out to the rest of the world. Not meeting up in the library or in the courtyard for your usual routine.
So you took it upping yourself to knock on his door every morrow, and supper. Threatening to break in if he didn’t at least take the food into his chambers and eat it.
The first time you saw him after the unfortunate incident, you didn’t flinch. You didn’t scare away in a corner. You smiled at him, slowly approached him and gently ghosted your fingers over his new forming scar. His eye now replaced with a beautiful sapphire- your touch burned, but it burned with a feeling that he wished to experience a thousand times over.
The two children were found sound asleep in Aemond’s bed when the maesters came around to check on the princes health the next morning; wrapped around each other like dragons protecting their kin.
Even years later, he was grateful to have you. He wouldn’t tell it to anyone’s face but his actions always speak for him.
He always seeks you first in large gatherings. Following you like a guard dog wherever he’s in the castle and not away on Prince business across the seven kingdoms.
But today. It was different. You felt it as soon as you heard Vhagars roars through the air, crawling their way through the open window in your and Aemond’s chambers.
You rushed to the dragon pits carefully. The maids trying to assist you but you insisted on going by yourself only to find no one there but the dragons. Your husband nowhere to be seen.
You sighed, an eerie feeling brewing deeply in your gut as you walked back to your chambers and buried yourself in a cloak and settled onto the settee, hoping Aemond would show up.
He didn’t show up, much to your dismay. You had a hunch that he had probably made his way to the small council to report of his business at Storms end.
And so you waited while he spiralled.
Aegon looked…proud?
After breaking the news of what happened tonight on Storms End; the small council’s reaction were rather mixed. Alicent shook her head, getting up from her chair abruptly and making her way out of the room. Suddenly finding it suffocating.
His grandsire looked as though he was about to faint right that instant. Holding onto the armrest as he sighed in defeat.
The lords- your father being one of them, looked disappointed as ever. The death of a kin is never a way to settle for peace.
“You did well, brother.” Aegon speaks, the lords and the Hand turning their heads towards him with wide eyes. The death of a child and he did- well?
“I call for a celebration! A feast, tonight!” He declares, arms wide as he gets up from his chair and reached his brother at the end of the table in three long strides. Patting him on the back.
Aemond feels sick, grotesque. He hates this feeling.
He hasn’t uttered a word since his reporting, hasn’t met anyone’s eye and doesn’t want to either. He simply nods, fixing his head up yet not making eye contact and sternly walks away, exiting the room before running to a small corner to empty out his stomach’s content.
He didn’t mean to. He didn’t want to. He was just…
Just what?
There was no simple explanation to why he acted tonight on Storm’s End. He was angry, furious even. But he, a man who is the perfect picture of composure, let his emotions get the worst of him. He was only trying to scare him with Vhagar, a dragon that chose him. He only wanted to show Lucereys how he felt that night on Driftmark when the boy stabbed his eye and left him to whither in his own blood. Vhagar chose him that night on Driftmark, a dragon known for its great size and strength all over the seven kingdoms chose the white haired boy after its rider’s death.
He doesn’t return to her, to you. The news of Lucereys must’ve reached you by now, or at least of the feast that Aegon has arranged for tonight.
He should be celebrating, with his brother- the king. But it feel wrong. So, here he is, standing in the corner of the Throne room with a chalice of wine. His mind going a thousand times faster.
Kinslayer.
Kinslayer
Kinslayer.
Kin-
Soft thumbs invaded his hands, plotting a coup and attacking their way into his palms, a finger, then another, weaving through his hand and taking over. His breathing stopped for just a second before he realised it was her, immediately feeling pints of blood shoot to his heart that thrummed erratically through his chest, he could feel the blood seep into his bones, replacing the chill of the rain he had experienced mere hours ago.
You had this effect on him, even after all these years. Of knowing you, through and through. Even the parts of you that are only meant for his eyes, you always managed to quietly make way for yourself in his heart. Not that his heart wasn’t laid out for you in a platter. He’d do it if you asked, rip his heart out and give it to you on a silver platter, it was yours to have ever since his third name day.
He focused back to you, not looking at you but rather feeling the ridges and lines of your palm that was connected to his. The way your thumb traced over his. Your other hand sneaking its way to his arm, up and down, up and down. A steady rhythm that he remembers and tries to match. He took a breath, then another. In and out- up and down. He tensed his feet, held by his leather boots, digging the heel into the concrete ground of the grand hall before your hand squeezed his bicep, once again pulling him back before he could drown in the cold noises of the feast.
He doesn’t say anything, or meet your eyes. Fearing what you might hold in them. Fear? Disappointment? Distaste? Does she see me as a monster now that I’ve hurt one of my own? One of her own?
You don’t. Unknown to him. You don’t know what happened exactly on Storms end, but seeing the way he wanted to be anywhere but here was a clear indication that your husband didn’t mean it. The fear in his eyes was buried deep but you saw it the moment your eyes lay on his tense back and ridged composure.
He never liked Lucereys, but he knows you did. There were only a few people in King’s Landing you truly despised. But oh the Sevens know how much you love those boys. The bastards only have the name Velaryon, yet they don’t carry even an ounce of resemblance to their supposed father. But you didn’t care, you never did.
You loved luceyres like a little brother. Even if you had little time to spend with the Velaryon boy, and Jace and Joeffrey. They were sweet to you. Having looked up to you as an older sister. And you loved them like your own, so when the news of Lucereys passes by you. You don’t think twice before running to find Aemond. He wouldn’t do that to you, right? He knew you love him, and the boys that were like brothers to you.
He never liked them, but he loves you. Gods, he loves you.
They don’t say anything to each other. Not for the rest of night. She keeps a hold of his hand, squeezing it once, pausing, then two and three. A secret language- a code.
I still love you. It dawned on him. Crashed through his chest and broke every bone in its wake.
This fucking war, you curse in your mind. If only Visereys hadn’t died such a death. If only he hadn’t named Aegon as King as his dying wish rather than announcing it at his first name day. If only Rhaenyra wasn’t named heir first.
If only. She knows wishing won’t do her good but the thoughts still linger in her mind like a plague.
She keeps a hold of his hand. Feeling the coldness that he carries, the warmth of her own hand travelling up his arm. Dragons blood in a Tyrell, he’d said once. That’s a rare sight. To which you dismissed as only having warm hands. But your hands had only became warm and dragon like after him. After having to carry his child.
A swollen belly of a princess. You were a sight for sore eyes. But the Gods had blessed you with this child- his child and you nurture them gracefully.
One hand on your belly and the other holding his, you both make your way to your chambers as the feast comes to a close, Aegon, once again, drunkly congratulates his brother for the up tenth time as he exists.
Not a single word has been said between the prince and the princess, yet they both find it more than comforting to not say a word because the heavy tension could be shattered with even a single sound.
As they enter their chamber, Aemond takes a deep- shaky breath. Knees buckling before he composes himself- not wanting to fall on his wife, not wanting to cause further damage.
You notice the way he’s staggering towards the bath. Quickly taking his leather soaked clothes off. He hadn’t changed, you note, it required him to come to the chambers. You walk to his side. Silently, he allows you to undress him, politely gesturing to the servants to bring hot water for his bath. Taking out his night garments for him before standing behind him as he settles into the warm bath.
You’re mothering him, something he’s only experienced with you and not his actual mother.
You quietly ask the servants to leave. Taking the wet rag and washing up the prince yourself. It’s an awkward move sitting on your knees while almost seven moons pregnant, but you don’t mind.
He doesn’t fight it, doesn’t try to meet your eyes. He lets you tear down all his walls and see him naked. Not like you hadn’t seen him naked before. But this- this is a level of vulnerability you haven’t seen in him since Driftmark.
You dress him up, brush his hair and take off his eyepatch and sapphire, noticing that it wasn’t the same one he wore on his way to Storms end.
He kisses her forehead that night, not a single word uttered even then, his lips lingering as he cradles her head. Ever so carefully, like she’s porcelain, breaking at any given moment. He hopes she can’t hear his screaming heart that threatens to burst as he pulls her into his chest.
Feeling the way her breathing becomes more shallow. It pains him to not be able to look at her. To look into her beautiful eyes, look at the bright smile that he wishes she wore. But he knows he can’t.
And you’re the cause of it, his mind screams.
The mother of his child lets her tears escape onto his chest. Silent sobs raking her body and his heart chips and eats him from the inside, not wanting him to see the next sunrise.
But he stays still, he stays because he knows he’s at fault. He stays still when her silent sobs become audible and he closes his eye to let her punch and claw at him- but she doesn’t. Instead she stays too. Her arms like ivy curling around him as he hugs her- squeezes her, once then again.
I’m sorry.
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Anddd that is it!! I hope you guys liked it. I am a sucker for soft Aemond and his wife, so what better moment to let him be healthily venerable than this? They’re both a lil fucked up but who isn’t? Let me know what yall think!!
@delusionsofnostalgia ; since you liked the Drabble. This is for u <3
Random tags: @endless-ineffabilities @aemonds-sapphire @firebornfables
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where-theres-smoak-2 · 5 months ago
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'But luke was never punished for taking out aemond's eye.'
Yeah and guess what:
Aemond was never punished for claiming vhagar, and before you start with the whole 'but you can't steal Dragons, aemond did nothing wrong when he claimed vhagar', if he wasn't doing anything wrong he wouldn't have felt the need to sneak off and do it in the middle of the night. Even if he didn't need the permission of the crown, at the very least he was defying his own mother's wishes who had already told him off for trying to claim Dragons, so yeah he was doing something wrong.
Aemond also wasn't punished for trying to bash jace's head in with a rock.
Aemond wasn't punished for breaking luke's nose, choking him and also trying to bash his head in with a rock.
Aemond wasn't punished for calling jace and luke bastards, which was treason.
Aegon wasn't punished for calling jace and luke bastards, which was treason.
Aegon wasn't punished for assaulting and r*ping serving girls.
Alicent wasn't punished for saying rhaenyra's sons were bastards, despite already being told by the king to leave it, again it was treason.
Alicent wasn't punished for attempting to maim a royal Prince and cutting the heir to the throne.
Criston wasn't punished for breaking his oath with rhaenyra.
Criston wasn't punished for killing joffrey, publicly, at a wedding feast, or for striking laenor during that same feast.
Criston wasn't punished for killing beesbury.
Like be real, nobody gets punished in this show, people be breaking laws and rules left, right and centre without any consequences. Yet the only time I ever see outrage about the lack of punishment is when it comes to Luke. So what the law only matters when it comes to the 8 year old?
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pearl-nouveau · 3 months ago
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A Woman's Purpose - Cregan Stark x Reader [chapter three]
summary: After a sudden betrothal, you consider what a future in Winterfell may look like.
warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving durr), referenced baela x jace, slight timeline alterations
a/n: i feel weird writing smut even though i am an adult and i was writing UNGODLY things as a sixteen-year-old virgin half a decade ago. lmk if you enjoy because i don't have anything else written so if i'm going to keep writing i want to know that it's going to be read!
Cregan wasted no time trying to get me accustomed to Winterfell. As we entered the gates, he led me through with a protective hand on my back, steering me towards the stables first. He introduced me to his horse, Stormfighter, and I smiled at his excitement over the creature. It reminded me of my feelings about Vermithor. 
"You shall have as many horses as you wish," he told me, "perhaps a cream-colored one would pair well with mine. But I suppose you already have a dragon."
"Yes, Vermithor is a good form of transportation. I find horses rather slow now."
He laughed. "I shall build a dragonpit for Vermithor, if you wish it."
I smiled gently. He was so eager to please me. "He is much too big, I'm afraid. He will have to find a nest outside like Aemond's dragon, Vhagar."
"Ah. Not as easy as having a small dragon like your brother's, but perhaps more impressive."
"Vermithor's wingspan creates shadows over entire towns." I knew I was boasting, but Cregan's eyes widened with approval nevertheless. 
"Impressive indeed."
He took me within the palace walls, through warm hallways and into a communal dining hall where Stark bannermen laughed together merrily. One of them noticed Cregan enter, and the group regarded him with respectful My Lord's. I observed a few kitchen girls gossiping by the fire, unafraid of their Lord's presence. It pleased me to think that my future husband was a welcome presence to the people who worked beneath him. The tranquility of the scene put my mind at ease.
"I know Winterfell is less grand than you are used to," he admitted wearily, "but I will do anything to ensure your comfort here."
"You are Warden of the North and take care of your people with ease and no complaint," I turned to him, "there is no greater comfort to me than a Lord husband with a gentle heart."
"Lord husband?"
Jacaerys' voice startles you. He has crept up behind the two of you, and you are suddenly aware of the weight of Cregan's hand still on your lower back.
"Jace," I flushed, "we... I..." 
The words were lost in my mouth, but before me stood my brother, and words were not necessary. He smiled at me and I returned the grin knowing that he understood what had come to pass. He brought me in for a hug. 
"Congratulations," he told me, pulling back and kissing my head. He moved to Cregan and, to my surprise, brought him in for a hug as well. "Brother." he said happily. 
"Thank you, my prince." Cregan stood tall in front of him, pride radiating from him. "We will have a celebratory dinner tonight in the great hall."
"I shall send a raven to my mother." Jace said this with a smile and walked off, but I watched Cregan's expression darken. 
"What is it, qēlos?" I touched his face without thinking. He leaned into my fingertips.
"I realized I never asked your mother permission for your hand," he said, "I was so caught up in the thrill of being yours that..."
"It matters not, it was always my choice." I said firmly. I could tell it still bothered him. "What can I do to make it better?" He thought for a moment. 
"Allow me to come with you to Dragonstone, at the appropriate time. Let me meet the queen and pledge myself to her and you in person. And then..." he trailed off, as if afraid to overstep.
"Yes?"
"I hoped we could have a ceremony in the traditions of House Targaryen. Bind ourselves to one another by blood. If it pleases you."
For him to think of my house and my culture and not only his own made me awash with emotion. 
"It does please me." I whispered, placing a sweet kiss to his lips. He pulled back.
"What did that word mean?" My brows furrowed at his question. 
"What word?"
"The one you said earlier, qua, queh..." 
"Qēlos." I told him. "It means star." 
He hummed and repeated the word under his breath. 
I sought some alone time with Jace so we could talk before my betrothal to Cregan was announced at dinner. I found him in the library of Winterfell, flipping through an old history book. He looked up as I came in. 
"Sister," he greeted, "the Maester suggested I read up on the history of our houses' relationships with one another. That is, the Targaryens and the Starks."
"I hope it's good." 
He smiled. "Even if it wasn't, this marriage would surely do the trick." He stood up, removing his focus from the book below him. "Cregan is a powerful man, little dragon. In many ways. He commands a population that our ancestors have found very hard to control in the past. The North is loyal not to their Warden, but to their Lord Stark. His involvement could mean victory for mother."
I scoffed, suddenly annoyed. I was newly engaged and he could still only talk politics. "Well, what do you suggest I do? Suck his cock every time mother wants a thousand men? I won't be her pawn, I am going to be the Lady of Winterfell."
"I only mean that you now sit beside one of our most important fighters. I... I suppose I don't know what I meant telling you that. I just mean that it pleases me to see you with such an accomplished man. And... I like Cregan. He is good, and you deserve a good man."
"I did worry, at first, that he only asked for my hand because mother sought something from him. But he asked for my hand all those years ago, in a letter he sent me after his time in King's Landing."
"What? Why did you never respond?"
I flushed. "I never opened the letter."
Jace began to cackle. "You're a fool, sister." 
"I know." I snapped at him, slapping his shoulder. I sat down in a chair across the table from him, prompting him to sit as well. "I don't think I would have said yes if I had, though."
"Why not?"
I sighed. "I was not ready, and I knew not what he wanted from me."
"What does he want from you?" Jace was prodding, and I was letting it happen. I looked down at my hands.
"Everything. My heart and soul. I haven't been ready to give it. I have been too afraid that I would give it to the wrong person, or they would capture it and I would never be free again. But I feel free with him. He wants nothing from me, but to love me. And I know if I ask for my soul back, he will give it to me. But I want him to have it. I trust him."
A tear shot down my cheek, taking me by surprise. I didn't realize I had started crying. Jace was still smiling at me. I loved when he smiled, and I had the feeling it would only become more rare. So I returned it, and we were happy together for a moment. 
"When will you wed?" He asked curiously. 
"I have no idea. But Cregan has asked to visit mother in Dragonstone and have a ceremony of her house there."
"That will please her greatly."
I nodded. "Part of me wants it to be slow, so that I can ease into being married. But part of me cannot wait another day. Part of me just wants to be near him, close to him, always." I blushed, realizing what I was insinuating. But Jacaerys was nodding in agreement. 
"You know, you can wait as long as you want. You don't have to wait for the rest, not really."
"What?" I sputtered. He so casually and simply dismantled a norm that had been thrust at us our entire lives. More specifically, me. 
"No one really knows what happens behind closed doors." He shrugged.
"Oh hush, Jace, you only say that because you are a man." I bit.
His face reddened. "Very well, but you have never heard me presume to say that a woman's virtue is ruined alongside her maidenhood."
"Only old men still believe that."
"Exactly. Look, I know how much of a change this is from what you convinced yourself you always wanted. Take a few moons to settle in before you marry him. If anything happens naturally between you two in that period... so be it. You are to be married anyhow."
I was amused by his candor. "My brother, the wildling." I teased. "Tell me, was this enlightened opinion developed when our depraved uncle took you to a brothel when you were ten and three?"
He rolled his eyes. "You know very well I was a child deathly frightened of women, and bedding brothel wenches is different than making love to your betrothed."
It clicked for me. "You mean to tell me that you and Baela..."
He looked at his lap, equally flustered and self-satisfied. As much as it irked me to think of my brother in bed with someone, I found his admission heartwarming. After our grandsire's death, Dragonstone had been dreary and tense. We all walked the halls knowing that our days were numbered. To be unwilling to wait to be with the one you love when each day could be your last - it was romantic. 
"Jace," I grinned at him. I kicked him under the table. "How? I mean, when?"
"Before grandsire died," he admitted, "We just... got caught up in the moment. But I don't regret it. Life is too short."He reached out across the table and playfully pressed his knuckles against my cheek in a faux-punch. "If you are choosing to be free, be free. We may be called into battle on the morrow."
I left our conversation feeling validated in a way I hadn't realized I needed to be. It made me want only one thing: to find my husband-to-be.
I found Cregan in the highest room of a round tower to walk to dinner together. He answered the door and I could tell he had been working from the papers strewn upon his desk. The room was set up as an office, with a small straw mattress in the corner. I guessed that he found himself sleeping here when overwhelmed with work. 
"My beautiful wife," he greeted me, "almost. Come in." 
He brought me in, sitting me in a cushioned chair across from his desk and leaning against that to observe me. I spoke. "I wanted to discuss the wedding. I was not sure how long you wanted our engagement to last, and I wondered how soon before we are married." 
"I had not thought to discuss the details without you," he said, "you are, after all, meant to be in attendance as well."
His words always comforted me, and were always accompanied by a soft smile that I had only seen him give to me. "If it is alright, my Lord, I hoped to wait a few moons before we are wed. I suppose I have not yet come to terms with the reality of saying the vows." 
"We can wait as many moons as you like, little dove. Years, if it is your wish."
I smiled up at him. "You are so easy. You truly have no quarrels?"
"Not if it would go against my Lady's desires." I stood. Our chests were inches apart. I could feel his hot breath on my face.
"There is nothing that you cannot wait for?"
He shuddered. His jaw tightened as if he were in pain. Suddenly, the unbreakable man had a crack running through his thick skin. I ran my fingers up his furs and toyed with the clasp, which carried the Stark sigil. I unclipped it slowly and his cloak fell to the floor. 
"You don't have to wait to touch me," I told him. His eyes were burning holes through mine, darting every other breath to my lips. He bit his lip. 
"I will not sully you, my princess," he said in a low voice. "I am an honorable man."
"And I am an honorable woman," I said firmly. "Therefore we do not dishonor each other."
"Your arithmetic is very confusing, my love."
"But it is correct."
He kissed me with a heat that his kisses had never held before. It was as if now I had given him permission to want me, he could no longer pretend he didn't. His hands roamed up my back, unclasping my cloak and moving to tangle in my hair. Teeth clashed against each other in a dance that we were both leading. One of his large hands came to rest at the base of my throat, then ran lower through the column of my breasts and then he finally moved to cup one. I gasped at the feeling of his fingers kneading at my flesh, slowing down when grazing over my nipple. He stopped kissing me only to flip us and place me on the desk, slotting his hips between my legs. I squealed as he pressed them open, the fabric of my dress falling between my thighs, but he quickly bunched it and moved my dress up past my hips. He smiled at the sight of my smallclothes. 
"I'll have you naked in my bed soon," he grumbled, "but for now, I won't ruin the surprise. I will just give you a taste of the pleasure you shall have for the rest of your life."
His words made me whimper. He kneeled down in front of me, and a surge of embarrassment made me close my eyes as he grasped my undergarments and slid them down my legs. He must have noticed, because no more touches came after I was bare. I opened my eyes to his gaze. 
"I want you to watch me please you," he said gently, more a request than a command. He kissed the inside of my thigh. My hip bone. Slowly, he grew closer to my center, keeping eye contact with me until his mouth connected with my core. 
Oh. 
So this was why people could not wait until after their marriage vows. 
I gasped so loudly that he stopped for a moment until I gently grasped his hair and guided him back to where he was. I could feel him smiling down there and I almost laughed with joy. His tongue danced beautiful choreography against my cunt, expertly drawing pleasure from my body in a way I could never have imagined.
"Cregan... fuck, oh, yes," I could no longer control words from spilling from my mouth. He slowly stroked a finger at my entrance, looking back up at me to ask for permission as he gently prodded at my hole. I nodded and then moaned as his finger intruded me, and if I wasn't mistaken I could have sworn I heard him let out a moan as if it were his own cock that had penetrated me. 
He continued to eat me like a starved man and with the addition of his finger slowly curling inside of me, I knew that something was about to explode within me. My stomach was tightening, my legs shaking and trying to clamp shut against Cregan's head. He fought against them with ease, pressing me further open and leaning into his meal, lapping it up like a wolf feasting on prey. He could feel my peak approaching and his tongue began to focus on my pearl, suckling and kissing the bud with tender care. 
It was too much. My moans had morphed into screams of pleasure, and my hands were yanking at his hair so hard I had no idea how he wasn't hurt. With a few more well-placed licks against my pussy, I could feel myself at the edge.
"Cregan..." I could barely breathe, barely speak. "I'm-I'm-so, so close," I keened. 
"You're perfect," he mumbled against me, "can't believe this is all mine." He dove back in on a mission and I began to fall.
"Oh, oh, yes..." I could only sigh as the tension snapped and a jolt ran through my body. It was electric, and Cregan held my body tightly as it shuddered. He stood slowly, caressing my legs as he did, and removing a handkerchief from his pocket, which he gently ran through my folds. I gasped, sensitive from my orgasm, grasping at his forearm. He only hushed me and kissed my brow. He moved my dress back down to protect my modesty, and picked my undergarments off the floor. 
"I'll keep these as a reminder of the first of many times I ate my wife's cunt," he said, shoving them into his pocket. He picked me up from the desk and set me down in front of him. "How was that? Are you alright?"
I put my arms around his neck. "I have literally never been better."
“I am glad.” He said. He kissed me slowly, his arms absentmindedly running across every plane of my back, mapping the new terrain. "You are..." He looked at me the way people usually looked at me before calling me beautiful. But he said nothing. He only placed a peck on my forehead and fetched our cloaks from the floor, reclasping mine first and then his own.
"I am what?" I asked, now curious.
Cregan shrugged, leading me towards the door. "There isn't a word to describe it."
The silent walk that we took to the great hall was not awkward, but pensive. I liked the feeling of my arm wrapped around his underneath the cloaks. He always pulled me to his side, so he could feel the fabric of our clothes brushing together as we walked. Every few steps I could see him look down at me out of my peripheral vision. At one such time, I caught his gaze and we smiled at each other. He licked his lips slightly, and it reminded me that those same lips had so recently between my legs, and I blushed, my gaze falling to my feet.
"Thinking of something, dove?" He smirked. 
"Just those lips of yours," I reached up and brushed his bottom one with my fingertip. "You've been blessed with a talented mouth."
"I am at your service, forever." He said seriously.
Forever. It seemed an easy enough thing to imagine with Cregan. He felt safe, he was devoted to me. He said he loved me. Could it be that easy? Just to give in to his love? It was tempting, but I sought clarity. What made him love, and why had he found it with me? What if I suddenly stopped doing the thing he loved? The darkest part of my heart told me that as we aged and my beauty faded, his interest in me would falter. 
"Now you surely aren't thinking of me between your legs," he observed, "because you are frowning."
"Just wondering."
"About?"
I sighed. "Do you believe that love fades?"
"Sometimes." He said. His definitive answer stumped me and I could feel a flare of anger arise from it.
"Well, then," I hummed passive-aggressively. It was unbecoming, I knew, especially since I was trying to ascertain that he would not grow tired of my antics and regret our union. Instead of arguing, he chuckled. 
"Why do you speak in riddles? Ask me what I know you have been wondering. I may be a dull Northerner but I am not dimwitted." 
Even in humbling me he was gentle, his voice laced with amusement, as if any complaint I may have could be fixed as simply as commanding him. 
"Why do you love me? I... I am afraid that whatever it is will fade, and you will grow tired of me. And..."
"And?"
"Forgive me."
"What?"
I felt hot tears behind my eyes but I clenched my teeth until they retreated. "Will I forever be your second wife? Not the mother of your children, either, only a... replacement? I'm sorry, my Lord, I should not target your late wife with my own insecurities."
He had stopped us in the hallway, boxing me against the wall and listening intently. Cregan drank every word I said up like honey. After I finished, his palm found my face and I saw the emotions swimming behind his eyes. I regretted terribly the possibility that I may have reopened past wounds.
"I believe love can fade sometimes, in the way that it has for my late wife." He sighed. "Her name was Arra. We were friends in childhood. When my parents suggested our union, her familiarity comforted me. I think that is what I loved about her. She was like home, like being a boy again. But I am no longer a boy." He took my hands. "I will miss Arra until the day I die because she was my friend and bore me a babe. But I did not choose her, and you have been my only thought since the moment I met you. In years of not hearing from you, not knowing if you would ever allow me to become close to you, I still loved you. Every night memories of your wit and bravery haunted me. Fuck, girl, you ruined me for any other woman. The thought of anyone else, for all those moons, was unthinkable. You could not fade from my heart if I tried to pluck you out with a knife."
I hadn't anything to say. 
So I said, "I love you."
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cherryheairt · 3 months ago
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Dragon Dreamer pt. II
Rhaenyra being Crenys' number 1 supporter
🗡
It only took a few hours for Daenys to wake up thrashing in bed. Panting and sitting up rigidly, Daenys struggled to clear her head.
Lucerys. She had dreamt of him tonight. In the midst of a storm, Arrax's wings beating as hard as the little dragon could manage in order to escape something. The silhouette of a menacing dragon loomed over Arrax and Luke like a shadow, deadly and unforgiving. He was being hunted like an animal.
Was the dream real? Daenys could hardly tell anymore. She had bizarre dreams and boring ones, never knowing the truth from a falsehood.
Sometimes, her dreams showed her what prank her brothers would attempt to pull on her the next day. Other times, it was horrors no young girl should be forced to witness.
She dreamt of Lady Leana's death by Vhagar's dragonfire and was awoken to being urged onto a boat to driftmark immediately. She had also dreamt of Ser Laenor, her father, dying peacefully of old age in his bed. Moons later, he had died in a fire that his own squire pushed him into.
Many a time, this happened, fooling herself into believing something was real when it was not. Daenys would run into her mother's chambers, sobbing and begging for her to listen. After Ser Harwin's sudden death, the first real prophecy that Daenys had foretold, Rhaenyra knew that her nightmares were no mere tall tale. Then, came Lady Laena immediately after, and Daenys had not stopped sobbing for weeks, blaming herself for both of their deaths.
She had never met Lady Laena, but Daenys was related to her through her father, caring for an aunt came easy even when not acquainted. Ser Harwin's demise struck her even harder. The knight had been her mother's sworn protector since Daenys was born. She saw him around the Keep more than she saw her own father, he had become a special figure in her life that was irreplaceable. Even Ser Erryk could never love the girl as he had.
When Laenor's death dream came, Daenys did not cry. She envisioned her father greyed and old on his deathbed, and she was certain that she would be right there with him when he passed on. She was wrong. Daenys would never forget rushing down into Driftmark's hall and seeing her father's hair and skeleton being dragged from the flames. Daenys could not save anyone. She was cursed with these dreams. She was cursed to be useless.
Fire had killed everyone she loved, and yet she still commanded it as all dragonriders do. Daenys had never commanded Morningstar to breathe her dragonfire after these events, nor stuck around when she burned her food to eat. She wondered now, if she ever was called to battle on Morningstar, if she could bring herself to use it.
Her mind liked to play cruel tricks on her. She desperately hoped that tonight was one of them. Her breaths were still ragged as she tried to calm herself, interrupted by the door slamming open. Daenys jumped in her spot, watching Cregan step in, Ice in hand. "Lord stark?" Her voice was groggy with sleep, although her mind was wide awake.
Still doning his formal clothes and furs, it was clear he hadn't yet gone to sleep, busy in his solar. "Princess? I heard a scream." He said, settling the longsword at his side as he scanned the room again.
Had she screamed? She couldn't have, Daenys' dreams hadn't caused such a reaction since she was a child. She had grown out of such humiliating behavior long ago. Surely, she did not do that whilst treating with a lord.
Daenys was lost for words, fiddling with the hem of the shift, all too aware of her state of undress in front of the lord. "Perhaps you heard Morningstar." She decided on. "Sometimes a dragon's song can sound quite human, the commonfolk often complain."
Cregan scanned her with a disbelieving stare, though he straightened himself and nodded. "Forgive me, I will take note of that. The maids will be made aware, too." He told her, placing Ice in its scabbard once more and shouldering it calmly.
"Is there anything I can get you, my princess? Tea, perhaps?" The question bothered her, his knowing and worried eyes feeling too close and suffocating.
Daenys stood swiftly, uncaring of her appearance. She placed her slippers on, brushing past him. "I will be back." She said firmly.
Cregan was stunned a moment, watching the young girl shoulder past him in a way that was unlike her usual demeanor. Her silver hair trailed loose behind her, white shift matching it in a way that made her look like a ghost haunting the Keep.
"Princess," he called after her, to no avail. Daenys disappeared behind the hallway walls. Cregan stood tensely, debating his next actions carefully. To be alone in the cold night was dangerous, but he wished not to trouble the princess any further. The absent look in her eyes was not something he would easily forget.
🗡
Rhaenyra and Daemon went through a similar routine each night. Both of them got ready to retire in their marital chambers, although separate. They both enjoyed the quiet time to unwind from the long day of council meetings.
No words were needed between the Queen and King consort.
"Are you sure it was the best decision to send Daenys to Winterfell?" Until now.
Sighing as she braided her shair over her shoulder, Rhaenyra glanced at him through her vanity mirror. "Do you have doubts?"
Daemon eyed her carefully, not wanting to speak ill of his stepdaughter. "You know I love her as my own." She nodded. "But, she has..a gentle demeanor. I'm not sure that pairing her and the Stark boy was the best choice for her."
Rhaenyra smiled, as if she knew something he didn't. "What?" He asked, facing her fully and raising his brow dramatically.
"You have little faith in our girl." Was all she said, amused and light.
"I have plenty faith in her. She has the strongest dragonbond of any of us. That is her strength, not negotiations." Daemon said, throwing his tunic off and tossing it away for the morning maids to wash.
Rhaenyra only hummed, "just trust me on this, alright? If it fails, I will personally ride to Winterfell and finish negotiations myself."
"You know that isn't possible, you cannot leave the council for so long." He deadpanned.
"Precisely."
🗡
Daenys wandered out of the Great Keep, not paying attention to the harsh shivers racking her body. Morningstar sang a tender and melancholy song to guide her rider towards her, in a field of snow outside of the keep's walls. In her trance-like determination, she had found a smaller side entrance to the stone walls that was simply a door instead of the gate meant for protection.
She followed the song until she reached the white dragoness, who was perfectly blended into the snow, and also blanketed by it to keep herself warm. Daenys joined her under her wing in the make-shift den, feet so cold in the thin slippers that they were now burning hot. The tips of her fingers followed, the heat contrasting the cold of the rest of her. Morningstar growled in concern, nudging Daenys gently and pulling her closer to the heat of her body. It helped, slightly, but Daenys payed no mind to the movement.
"...have your eye...pay your debt," she muttered against the wind of the night.
"Princess?" A voice called, yelling against it.
"...pay your debt...you owe a debt."
"Princess!"
Morningstar flared out, rising her neck to meet the lord of Winterfell. She growled, a fierce warning to stay away. Daenys came to Morningstar every time she woke from her dreams, staying for hours until the visions passed. Sometimes, they would huddle together for days.
"Princess, you must come inside." He urged, staying a clear distance from Morningstar to show his peace. He set Ice on the snow below his feet, hands out.
"...you owe a debt. One eye, one wing. One eye, one wing."
Morningstar trilled, covering her tighter from his view, muffling her voice. Cregan knew the Princess couldn't hear him, it was a useless endeavor. If she couldn't hear him, perhaps she could feel him.
He stepped closer to Morningstar's wing, reaching a hand gingerly toward her neck, watching as she growled but made no move to bite. "Easy, girl. I won't hurt her." He assured, petting her scaled neck.
She silenced, simply watching the man before her. He took that as a sign of approval, whatever kind of approval a dragon could give, and tucked himself under the large wing. The position was awkward, but he found himself enshrouded by warmth all around. Sitting beside the mumbling girl, he tucked Daenys carefully into his arms, stroking her hair comfortingly.
"One eye, one wing...one eye, one wing."
He would wait with her.
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