#otto advising him against it

[ceoofhelaegon]

Aegon sends this to Dragonstone after B&C

If be war you seek, send the full weight of your army and dragons.

For a lone, cowardly assassin will not topple this King Aegon second of his name that you so underestimate.

(he is distraught but he wants revenge and no matter how, he will get it...for his son, for his wife, and for himself)

[youraverageaemondsimp]

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

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

MDNI

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

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

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

WC: 4.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he didn't.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh seven hells how he wanted to ruin you.

And so he would.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Women can peak?

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

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

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

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

Oh how he was going to corrupt you.

He smirked.

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

And so he would.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[novaursa]

The Dragon's Right (6)

- Summary: It was by grace of the gods that firstborn child of Viserys I and Aemma was born a boy and he lived. And all of the rest, scholars will later say, is by power of something more malevolent in kind.

- Paring: male!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Note: For all the parts of this story, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 7 000+

- Previous part: 5

- Next part: 7

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The hour was late, the Red Keep quiet as the court had retired for the night. You sat awake in your chambers, the faint light of a candle flickering beside you. The endless routine of court life had left you restless, your mind too heavy with thoughts to find sleep. You had become accustomed to the dull rhythm of politics and responsibility since your return to King’s Landing, but the weight of it all still gnawed at you.

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to shake the weariness that had settled deep in your bones. Just as you considered whether to rise and take another walk around the room, the door to your chambers creaked open without warning or announcement.

Expecting your uncle Daemon, as was often the case, you sighed inwardly, preparing yourself for another round of complaints about Otto Hightower’s growing influence or another suggestion to join him in the lower city for some ill-advised adventure. But when you turned, you were surprised to see Rhaenyra standing in the doorway instead.

Her presence filled the room instantly, her usual quiet grace now tinged with something more urgent. Her violet eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. There was something in her gaze that was both familiar and unsettling, a mixture of affection and determination.

"I needed to see you once more today," she said softly, closing the door behind her as she stepped into the room.

You frowned slightly, worried by the intensity in her voice. "Rhaenyra, it’s late. If someone sees you—"

She shook her head, cutting you off as she approached. "I don’t care," she replied, her voice firm. "I spoke with Alicent."

At the mention of her friend, your frown deepened. "What did you say to her?"

"I told her to stay away from you," Rhaenyra said bluntly, her tone laced with a mixture of frustration and jealousy.You sighed, running a hand through your hair again. "Rhaenyra… you and Alicent are close. You shouldn’t—"

"I know," she interrupted, a flicker of regret crossing her face. "But I couldn’t stand it anymore. The way she tries to get close to you, the way she looks at you... It drives me mad."

Her confession hit you like a blow, and you could see the turmoil in her eyes, the battle between her loyalty to her friend and the possessive jealousy she couldn’t suppress. You stood, taking a step toward her, unsure of how to navigate the storm of emotions that now swirled between you.

"Rhaenyra," you began carefully, "I don’t want you getting into trouble because of this. Whatever the situation is between us, it doesn’t need to affect your friendship with Alicent."

She crossed the distance between you, her eyes never leaving yours. "I thought about it all day," she whispered, her voice softer now. "About what we talked about earlier. About us."

Your breath caught in your throat as she stepped closer, her presence overwhelming your senses. "I thought about it too," you admitted, your voice low. "But we have to be careful."

"Do we?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone challenging. "We’re Targaryens. It’s in our blood. Why should we deny what we feel?"

Before you could answer, she closed the final gap between you and, without hesitation, climbed into your lap. Her fingers brushed lightly against your neck as she leaned in, her lips finding yours with a fierce determination that sent a shiver through your entire body.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but quickly deepened as you gave in to the emotions you had been trying to suppress. Your hands instinctively moved to her hips, holding her in place as she pressed herself against you. The warmth of her body, the scent of her hair, the feel of her lips—it was intoxicating, and before you knew it, you were trailing your hands up her back, pulling her closer still.

Her lips parted under yours, and the kiss became something more—more urgent, more desperate, as if the floodgates you had feared had finally broken open. Every touch, every movement was an exploration of the complex feelings that had been building between you both for so long. You could feel her fingers tangling in your hair, her breath quickening as the kiss deepened further.

The world outside disappeared as you lost yourself in her—your sister, your blood, your equal. The lines between love, desire, and duty blurred until they were indistinguishable, leaving only the two of you, caught in a moment that felt inevitable.

Eventually, you both pulled back, breathless, your foreheads resting against one another as you caught your breath. Rhaenyra’s fingers traced along your jaw, her touch gentle yet possessive. There was a softness in her eyes now, an affection that spoke of something deeper than mere attraction.

"How can we stop this?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to steady your thoughts, but when you opened them again, all you could see was her—Rhaenyra, your sister, your equal, the one person who understood you in ways no one else ever could. You reached up, brushing a strand of her silver hair behind her ear, your thumb grazing her cheek.

"I don’t know if we can," you admitted softly, your voice filled with the weight of your confession. "But we have to be careful. Father would never allow it. The court, the Faith… they would try to tear us apart."

Rhaenyra’s eyes darkened with defiance as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "Then let them try."

The fire in her words ignited something in you, something that had been smoldering for so long but now burned brightly. You kissed her again, softer this time, more deliberate, as if savoring every moment.

When you pulled away, you smiled down at her, your fingers tracing along her arm. "You’re dangerous, Rhaenyra."

A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she met your gaze, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and affection. "I learned from the best."

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "We need to be smart about this."

"I know," she whispered, her tone more serious now. "But I can’t help what I feel. And neither can you."

You held her gaze, the weight of the truth settling between you. There was no going back now. Whatever lay ahead—whether it was the ire of the court, the disapproval of your father, or the dangers that came with your newfound connection—you both knew that this was a path you had chosen.

The atmosphere in the small council chamber was tense the next morning. King Viserys sat at the head of the table, his brow furrowed in thought as his advisors gathered to discuss the ongoing matters of the realm. Corlys Velaryon, ever the advocate for action in the Stepstones, was the first to speak, his deep voice cutting through the quiet murmurs of the room.

“The situation in the Stepstones cannot be ignored any longer, Your Grace,” Corlys began, leaning forward in his seat. “The Free Cities are growing bolder by the day, and their pirates choke the trade routes we depend on. If we do not act soon, it will become more than a mere annoyance—it will be a full-scale war, one we are not prepared for.”

Viserys sighed heavily, his eyes weary. This had been a topic of constant debate for months now, and the pressures of dealing with the Stepstones weighed heavily on his shoulders. “I understand your concerns, Lord Corlys,” Viserys said, his voice tired but steady. “But sending men and ships to the Stepstones will require resources we cannot easily spare. And with the situation at home—”

“We cannot afford not to act,” Corlys interjected, his tone more urgent now. “The crown’s strength is being tested on multiple fronts. If we do nothing, we will be seen as weak, and those who oppose us will seize that opportunity.”

Viserys leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as the weight of the council’s concerns pressed down on him. He knew Corlys was right in many ways, but the thought of yet another conflict on the horizon was one he dreaded. Before he could respond, Tayland Lannister spoke up hesitantly, his voice carrying a note of caution.

“Your Grace… there’s another matter that requires your attention,” Tayland began, glancing nervously around the table before continuing. “Dorne… it seems there have been reports along the borders again. They’ve been unusually quiet since Prince Y/N returned to the capital with his dragon, but now there are whispers of movement once more. It’s… concerning.”

Viserys’s expression darkened as he turned to Tayland, the mention of Dorne stirring up memories of the years-long skirmishes his son had just returned from. “Are you suggesting,” Viserys said slowly, his voice tight with barely restrained frustration, “that my only son should be sent back to wage another campaign against Dorne? After everything he has already sacrificed?”

The room fell into an uneasy silence. Tayland shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly regretting his words. “No, Your Grace, I… I only meant to say that the situation is escalating again. But I agree, it would be unwise to send Prince Y/N back into that… turmoil so soon after his return.”

Viserys’s hands tightened on the arms of his chair, his frustration evident. “He has just returned to us, to his family. I will not send him back to fight a war that may never truly end. There must be another solution.”

Lord Lyonel Strong, always the voice of reason, spoke up after a brief pause. “Your Grace, I understand your desire to protect your son, as do we all. But we must acknowledge the importance of securing our borders. Dorne is unpredictable, and if they sense weakness, they will strike. However, sending the prince to face them again is not a long-term solution. We cannot afford to jeopardize the king’s only male heir every time a threat arises.”

Lyonel’s words hung heavy in the air, and the other council members nodded in agreement. The stakes were high, and while Y/N had proven himself a capable warrior, his constant involvement in these dangerous conflicts was not sustainable for the future of the realm.

Grand Maester Mellos, who had been quietly observing the conversation, cleared his throat and added his voice to the discussion. “Lord Lyonel speaks wisely. Prince Y/N has more than proven his worth on the battlefield, but his place is here, at court, preparing to take on the responsibilities of the crown. We cannot risk his life in prolonged skirmishes. It is the duty of the crown to ensure stability for the future.”

Viserys exhaled slowly, nodding as he absorbed the council’s words. “You’re right, all of you. My son has done more than enough for the realm, and I will not send him to fight these endless battles again. We must find a way to secure our borders without sacrificing my heir.”

Corlys, though still eager for action, seemed to understand the king’s concern. He leaned back slightly, his tone more measured now. “If we do not wish to send Prince Y/N back into the fray, then we must consider strengthening our defenses along the Dornish border. More men, perhaps. More fortifications. A show of force to deter any further incursions.”

Lyonel nodded in agreement. “A strong presence on the border may be enough to keep Dorne in check, at least for the time being. It would send a message without committing the prince to another campaign.”

Viserys seemed to take comfort in that suggestion, though the weight of his decisions still sat heavily on his shoulders. “Very well,” he said quietly. “Begin preparations to reinforce our forces along the border. We will not provoke Dorne, but we will not be caught unprepared.”

The council members murmured their agreement, and the conversation turned to the practicalities of mobilizing the necessary men and resources. But as the discussion continued, Viserys’s mind remained elsewhere—on his son, on the future of the realm, and on the difficult choices that lay ahead.

After the meeting adjourned and the council members began to filter out of the room, Viserys sat in silence for a long moment, his thoughts troubled. The kingdom was constantly in a state of unrest, with threats both near and far, and though he longed for peace, it seemed ever elusive.

The days in the capital had begun to stretch into a monotonous blur of courtly duties and council meetings. You found yourself restless, confined by the expectations of your role as the king's heir. The small council had agreed to a strategy to secure the borders of Dorne and strengthen the Stepstones, but to your growing frustration, it was Daemon, not you, who was being sent to deliver the message and oversee its execution alongside Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake.

You had spent years on the battlefield, earning your place as a warrior and a leader, and now, to be told that you were needed in the capital rather than on the front lines gnawed at you. Duty was one thing, but to be sidelined while others carried out the work you were more than capable of handling left you feeling as though you were trapped in a gilded cage.

It was on one of those restless days that you found yourself walking through the Dragonpit, the familiar scent of dragon leather and smoke filling the air. Your feet carried you forward instinctively, until you rounded the corner and saw your uncle, Daemon, preparing for his departure. Caraxes, his blood-red dragon, loomed behind him, stretching his wings as if eager to take flight.

Daemon, as always, looked at ease, his armor gleaming under the dim light of the pit. He was speaking with a handful of his men, issuing last-minute orders before mounting his dragon. His casual confidence only seemed to stoke the fire of your frustration further.

“Off to war again, are you, Uncle?” you called, your tone sharper than you intended as you approached.

Daemon turned, a knowing smirk already forming on his lips when he saw you. “Aye, someone has to keep things interesting while you play the dutiful prince in King’s Landing,” he said, his voice laced with that familiar mix of teasing and challenge.

You frowned, coming to a stop in front of him. “I should be going with you,” you said bluntly, your hands flexing at your sides. “This strategy was mine as much as anyone's. Yet here I am, stuck in the capital while you fly off to handle things.”

Daemon raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your frustration. “Don’t tell me you’re starting to enjoy the council meetings, nephew. Perhaps court life is growing on you after all.”

You shot him a glare, but Daemon only laughed, clearly enjoying your irritation. “It’s not a matter of enjoying it. I’ve fought in Dorne, I know the terrain, the people. I should be there with you.”

Daemon’s smirk faded slightly as he regarded you more seriously. “You’ve already done your duty in Dorne, Y/N. The realm can’t afford to lose its heir over another skirmish. That’s why Viserys wants you here. Someone has to keep the peace while I make sure the Stepstones don’t fall into chaos.”

You clenched your jaw, unwilling to let the matter rest. “I’m not made for sitting idly by, Daemon. I should be out there, doing what I do best.”

Daemon’s expression shifted, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something close to understanding in his eyes. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Believe me, I know how it feels to be sidelined, to be told that you’re too valuable to risk. But you have something bigger to worry about. You’re the heir to the Iron Throne. If you fall, if something happens to you, Viserys loses everything.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Daemon cut you off with a knowing look. “I’ve fought in more wars than I care to count, and I’ve seen men die for less. But this—what you and I are dealing with now—this is about the long game. You’ll get your chance to fight again, trust me. But for now, the capital needs you. Viserys needs you.”

You sighed, the weight of his words sinking in. As much as you hated to admit it, Daemon was right. Your place, as frustrating as it was, was here in King’s Landing, keeping the peace and preparing for the future. The realm needed stability, and as much as you longed to be out in the field, your father had made it clear that your role as heir took precedence.

Daemon clapped a hand on your shoulder, his usual cocky grin returning. “Besides, someone has to keep an eye on Otto while I’m gone. Can’t trust him to keep his hands clean without us watching.”

You smirked despite yourself, shaking your head. “You’d rather see me fight in council chambers than on the battlefield?”

“If you can survive a meeting with Hightower without strangling him, I’d say you’ve already won a battle,” Daemon quipped. He moved past you toward Caraxes, his dragon shifting eagerly as his rider approached.

As Daemon mounted the blood-red dragon, he cast one last glance over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, nephew. I’ll make sure the Stepstones stay under control. You just keep things from falling apart here.”

With that, Daemon urged Caraxes into the air, the dragon’s powerful wings beating against the wind as they lifted into the sky. You watched them go, the weight of your frustration still heavy in your chest, though tempered by the reminder of your responsibility. You knew Daemon was right, but the desire to join him still burned in your veins.

As Caraxes disappeared into the clouds, you turned away, your mind already shifting back to the politics of the capital. There was no escaping the duties that awaited you, no matter how much you longed for the freedom of the battlefield. For now, the capital would be your battleground, and courtly intrigue your sword.

You could only hope it was enough to keep you sane until you could fly into battle again.

The afternoon sun bathed the gardens of the Red Keep in a soft, golden glow. The air was warm, and a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees, bringing with it the faint scent of roses and lavender. Rhaenyra sat on a cushioned bench beneath one of the larger trees, surrounded by her handmaidens, who were engaged in quiet conversation. Beside her, Alicent sat with her usual poise, though the tension between them was palpable despite the pleasant setting.

Since their argument a few days ago, the two friends had yet to fully resolve the unspoken rift between them. They had, for now, put their differences aside, but there was an underlying awkwardness that neither seemed eager to address directly. Rhaenyra, for her part, felt torn between her loyalty to Alicent and the possessive protectiveness she now felt toward her brother. Every time she looked at Alicent, she could feel the jealousy simmering beneath the surface, though she did her best to hide it.

Still, today, Rhaenyra felt lighter, happier. It had been a few days since her last encounter with her brother, and the memory of their shared kiss, their stolen moments of intimacy, filled her with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time. She had missed him terribly in the years he had spent in Dorne, but now that he was back, she felt whole again—more than whole, even. There was a secret between them now, something precious and exhilarating that only they shared. It was a feeling that made her heart race and her thoughts drift to places she dared not speak aloud.

Alicent, always attuned to her friend’s moods, noticed the change in Rhaenyra almost immediately. She had observed over the past few days how Rhaenyra seemed… different. There was a lightness in her demeanor, a quiet joy that hadn’t been there before. Despite their recent argument, Alicent couldn’t help but feel a mix of curiosity and concern.

“You seem happier these days, Rhaenyra,” Alicent remarked, her tone casual, though her eyes searched Rhaenyra’s face for any hint of what might have caused this change. “More at ease than you were a week ago.”

Rhaenyra glanced at Alicent, her expression neutral for a moment before a small smile tugged at her lips. “I suppose I am,” she admitted, leaning back against the bench, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of her gown. “It’s good to have my brother home again. I had forgotten how much I missed him.”

Alicent smiled, though there was a flicker of something behind her eyes—something Rhaenyra didn’t miss. “He has been a calming presence for all of us, I think,” Alicent said softly. “The court feels… steadier with him back.”

Rhaenyra nodded, though her mind wandered to thoughts that had little to do with the politics of the court. Her happiness, her newfound sense of ease, had little to do with the stability of King’s Landing and everything to do with the intimate moments she had shared with her brother. The kiss they had stolen, the way his hands had moved over her body, the way they had whispered to each other in the quiet of the night—it filled her with a secret kind of joy that made her pulse quicken just thinking about it.

But she couldn’t tell Alicent that, of course. She couldn’t tell anyone. It was a secret she held close to her heart, something that belonged to her and her brother alone. And yet, as she sat there in the garden, surrounded by her handmaidens and her friend, Rhaenyra felt the weight of that secret pressing down on her, urging her to protect it at all costs.

Alicent’s voice broke through her thoughts. “It’s good to see you like this,” she said, her tone soft, almost wistful. “You’ve always been so strong, Rhaenyra, but… there’s a lightness about you now that I haven’t seen in a long time.”

Rhaenyra glanced at Alicent, her smile widening slightly. “Perhaps it’s because I’m no longer alone,” she replied, though her words held a double meaning that Alicent could not have understood. “It’s been… good to have him near. To be reminded of how much he means to me.”

Alicent nodded, though Rhaenyra could sense the unspoken tension between them. The argument they had about her brother still lingered in the background, and while they had put it aside for now, Rhaenyra knew that it had changed something between them. Alicent had always been loyal, always supportive, but there was no denying that her interest in [Your Name] had stoked Rhaenyra’s possessiveness.

“I spoke to my father recently,” Alicent said after a moment, her tone more subdued now. “He mentioned how important it is for your brother to find a suitable match. I imagine the court will soon begin pressuring him.”

Rhaenyra’s smile faltered slightly at that, her heart tightening at the thought of her brother being married off to some noble lady for the sake of alliances. She knew his duty as heir, just as she knew her own, but the idea of sharing him with anyone else made her blood run cold.

“I’m sure the court has its plans,” Rhaenyra replied carefully, her tone measured. “But my brother has never been one to let others decide his fate for him.”

Alicent glanced at Rhaenyra, a knowing look in her eyes. “Perhaps not. But you know as well as I do that duty often outweighs personal desires in our world. Your brother will have to marry eventually.”

Rhaenyra clenched her jaw slightly, trying to keep her voice calm. “Perhaps. But that doesn’t mean he will let them choose for him.”

A silence fell between them, the tension from their previous argument rearing its head once more. Alicent, ever observant, seemed to sense the shift in Rhaenyra’s mood and quickly changed the subject, offering a soft smile. “Regardless, it’s good to see you happy, Rhaenyra. You deserve it.”

Rhaenyra returned the smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Internally, she was still reeling from the conversation, her mind racing with thoughts of her brother and the future that seemed so uncertain. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, not after everything they had shared. And though she knew the court would try to force his hand, she was determined to protect what they had.

As the afternoon wore on and the sun began to dip lower in the sky, the handmaidens began to gather their things, preparing to leave the gardens. Rhaenyra stood, her mind still swirling with the weight of her secret and the unspoken tension between her and Alicent. She couldn’t shake the feeling that her brother’s return had changed everything—not just for her, but for the future of the realm.

The darkness surrounded you, thick and suffocating. You knew you were dreaming, yet the world felt all too real, pulling you back to the brutal, violent past you had tried so hard to leave behind. The scent of blood and smoke filled your nostrils, the familiar roar of battle echoing in your ears.

You were back on the Dornish border, where the sun beat down mercilessly on the rocky landscape, turning the sand beneath your feet into a blinding sea of heat. But the heat wasn’t what bothered you. It was the blood, the endless blood that stained the ground, your armor, your hands.

Before you, Silverwing loomed, her massive form casting a shadow over the battlefield. Her scales glimmered in the sunlight, a majestic and terrifying sight as she snarled, her jaws open wide, ready to unleash hell upon your enemies.

The clash of swords, the cries of dying men, and the acrid scent of burning flesh assaulted your senses as you gripped the reins, your heart pounding in your chest. You had been here before, so many times. Leading men into battle, commanding them, killing for the crown. But this time, it felt different. More vivid. More terrifying.

Dornish soldiers surged forward, their spears glinting in the sun, their faces twisted with rage and desperation. You shouted orders to your men, your voice hoarse from the strain of command, but your words seemed to be lost in the chaos around you. The Dornish were relentless, their numbers overwhelming, and despite the strength of your forces, you could feel the tide turning.

With a roar, Silverwing reared up, her wings beating against the air with enough force to send men stumbling backward. You felt the bond between you and your dragon pulse through your veins as you urged her forward. With a deafening screech, Silverwing descended upon the enemy, her massive jaws snapping shut around a group of Dornish soldiers.

Blood sprayed across the battlefield as Silverwing bit down, her powerful teeth tearing through armor, flesh, and bone with sickening ease. The sound of the men’s screams was lost beneath the thunderous roar of the dragonfire that erupted from her mouth, incinerating everything in its path. Soldiers who had been advancing toward you moments before were now nothing more than charred corpses, their bodies reduced to ash.

You watched, horrified, as Silverwing tore into another group of soldiers, her claws ripping them apart with savage efficiency. Blood splattered across the sand, pooling in thick, dark puddles that soaked into the earth. Limbs were torn from bodies, men reduced to nothing more than broken pieces of flesh and bone, and still, the Dornish kept coming.

The heat of the dragonfire was unbearable, searing your skin even from where you sat atop Silverwing. The stench of burning flesh filled your lungs, choking you, but there was no time to think, no time to feel anything but the cold, brutal instinct to survive. You spurred Silverwing forward, her massive body plowing through the enemy lines, scattering men like leaves in the wind.

But it wasn’t enough. No matter how many men Silverwing killed, no matter how many bodies littered the ground, the Dornish soldiers kept coming, their faces twisted with hatred, their eyes filled with the desire to see you dead. You felt the familiar knot of fear tighten in your chest as the enemy began to close in around you.

Suddenly, one of the Dornish soldiers broke through the chaos, his spear aimed directly at you. You had only a split second to react, but it wasn’t fast enough. The spear pierced your side, the sharp pain exploding through your body as the world spun around you. Blood poured from the wound, hot and sticky against your skin, but you barely had time to register the pain before another soldier was upon you, his sword raised high.

Silverwing roared in fury, her massive jaws snapping shut around the soldier, crushing him with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed across your face as the man’s body was ripped apart in Silverwing’s teeth, his screams cut short as his skull was crushed like an eggshell.

The battlefield was a nightmare of blood, fire, and death. Everywhere you looked, there were bodies—some charred beyond recognition, others torn apart by dragonfire and claws. The ground was slick with blood, the air thick with the stench of death. You felt the weight of it pressing down on you, suffocating you.

You tried to command Silverwing, to take control of the chaos, but your voice wouldn’t come. The pain from the spear wound throbbed in time with your heartbeat, making it hard to breathe. Your vision blurred, the world around you spinning as you fought to stay conscious. But even through the haze of pain, you could still see the carnage—Silverwing tearing through men like they were nothing more than playthings, their bodies breaking and burning beneath her fury.

You were losing control, and you knew it. The battle was slipping away from you, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

And then, suddenly, you were falling. The reins slipped from your fingers, your body tipping forward as the ground rushed up to meet you. You hit the sand with a bone-jarring thud, the impact driving the air from your lungs. The world went black for a moment, the sounds of the battlefield fading into nothing.

When you opened your eyes again, the first thing you saw was blood—so much blood, pooling around you, soaking into the sand. Your own blood. You tried to move, to push yourself up, but your body wouldn’t respond. You were trapped, helpless, watching as the battle raged on around you.

Silverwing roared somewhere in the distance, her voice filled with rage and pain. You could feel her, feel her fury, her desperation to protect you. But you were powerless to help her, powerless to stop the nightmare unfolding before your eyes.

The last thing you saw before the darkness claimed you was the sight of Silverwing, her jaws clamped down on another group of Dornish soldiers, their bodies breaking apart like twigs beneath her crushing teeth. The blood sprayed across the battlefield, the screams of the dying filling your ears.

And then, there was nothing.

You woke with a start, your heart pounding in your chest, your body drenched in sweat. The room around you was quiet, the familiar walls of your chambers in the Red Keep reassuring you that you were no longer on the battlefield. But the images of the nightmare lingered—Silverwing’s fury, the blood, the death.

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to shake the feeling of dread that clung to you. It was just a dream, you reminded yourself. Just a dream. But deep down, you knew that it was more than that. It was a memory—a memory of the horrors you had witnessed, the lives you had taken, and the toll it had taken on your soul.

No matter how far you ran from it, the blood and fire of Dorne would always haunt you.

The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the Red Keep as you walked alongside your father through the expansive gardens of the palace. King Viserys had been spending more time with you in the past months since your return from Dorne, and today was no different. He seemed eager, almost desperate at times, to enjoy moments of quiet between the demands of his reign. 

You had always admired your father’s ability to maintain a sense of peace amidst the political storms that often raged around him. But lately, something had shifted. As the days passed, you found yourself becoming more aware of the subtle signs of wear and tear that the Iron Throne had wrought upon him.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble in your father’s hand. It was barely perceptible, but you had spent enough time in his company recently to know that it wasn’t just a passing weakness. Your brows furrowed in concern, and you finally spoke up, your voice quiet but laced with worry.

“Father,” you began, glancing at his hand, “are you feeling well?”

Viserys looked at you, startled by the question at first, but then smiled in that familiar way of his, as if trying to reassure you of something he could no longer be certain of himself. He flexed his hand slightly, noticing your gaze.

“I’m fine, truly,” he said, though his tone was too quick, too eager to dismiss your concerns. “It’s nothing but an old man’s ache. The last cut I suffered from sitting the throne seemed to have gone deeper than usual… into the muscle, I think. It must have caused the tremble.”

You frowned, stopping for a moment to face him fully. “The Iron Throne should not wound the king, Father. I fear it has done more harm than you’re letting on.”

Viserys waved a hand, brushing off your concern. “The throne is sharp and unforgiving, yes, but I’ve sat upon it for years. It’s nothing more than an old man’s ailment. Nothing for you to worry about.”

But you couldn’t let go of the unease that gnawed at you. You had heard the stories, how the throne only cut those who were unworthy, how its jagged edges served as a constant reminder of the heavy price of rule. And now, seeing your father—the once strong, vibrant man who had ruled the realm with a steady hand—reduced to such a state, it made you wonder if the cost of the throne was truly worth it.

You glanced down at your father’s hand again, the faint tremor still there. Silent for a moment, you felt a heaviness settle in your chest as you considered the prospect that one day, the Iron Throne would be yours. It was a thought you had pushed aside for years, choosing instead to focus on your duties as a warrior, a protector of the realm. But now, standing here beside your father, the reality of it felt closer than ever.

“Is it worth it, Father?” you asked quietly, almost to yourself, though the question lingered in the air between you.

Viserys looked at you sharply, his expression softening after a beat as he realized the weight behind your words. He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as if burdened by more than just the crown. “Is it worth it…” he repeated softly, his gaze distant as he looked out at the gardens. “The Iron Throne… it is a heavy burden, my son. There is no denying that. But we don’t take the throne because it is easy, or because it is what we wish for ourselves.”

He turned to face you, his eyes tired but full of the wisdom of years spent ruling. “We take the throne because it is our duty. Our legacy. We are Targaryens, and the realm looks to us for leadership, for stability. That is worth more than the cost.”

You remained silent for a moment, pondering his words. The duty of being heir to the throne had always been something you accepted but never truly embraced. You had spent years on the battlefield, finding comfort in the clarity of combat, where there were no endless whispers of court intrigue or delicate balance of politics. But ruling… ruling was something different. It required sacrifice, constant vigilance, and endless compromise. And it required you to sit upon that cursed throne, the one that had already begun to cut into your father’s flesh.

“I understand the duty,” you said after a moment, your voice measured, “but I can’t help but feel that ruling is more than just doing what is expected of us. You’ve always been able to manage the demands of the crown, but I fear I lack your patience. I don’t know if I can find that balance.”

Viserys smiled gently, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’re more like me than you think, Y/N, though I know you’ve never desired court life. You’ve always been happiest on the battlefield, away from the games of politics. But ruling is its own kind of battle. And, just like on the battlefield, you must find the right strategy.”

You chuckled lightly, though the weight of his words didn’t escape you. “I’ve always preferred the battlefield, where at least I know who my enemies are.”

“That’s the trick,” Viserys said, his smile widening. “In court, they may not hold swords, but the battles are just as dangerous. And the price of losing is far greater.”

You nodded, understanding what he was saying. The thought of navigating the intricacies of the court, of having to make decisions that could affect the entire realm, filled you with a sense of dread. But this was the reality of your position. One day, the crown would pass to you, whether you were ready for it or not.

Viserys seemed to sense your unease and gently changed the subject, steering the conversation away from the future you both knew was inevitable. “Have you been adjusting well since your return? I know the transition from the battlefield to the court isn’t an easy one.”

You sighed, glancing around the garden before looking back at your father. “It’s… an adjustment. I’ve managed, somehow, though it’s been difficult to find my footing. Everything here feels slower, more drawn out. There’s no sense of urgency like there is in battle.”

Viserys nodded thoughtfully. “Court life can feel stifling at times, I’ll admit. It isn’t what you imagined for yourself, I’m sure.”

You gave a small, humorless laugh. “No, it isn’t. But I’ve accepted my place. I know what’s expected of me.”

Viserys squeezed your shoulder gently, his expression softening with affection. “I know, my son. And I also know that this is not the life you would have chosen for yourself. You’ve always been a warrior, someone who thrives in action. But a good king finds balance. He learns to fight the battles that can’t be won with a sword.”

You glanced at your father, seeing the weight of years of rule etched into his face. His words, though meant to reassure you, only served to remind you of the impossible burden that awaited you. You couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever find that balance he spoke of—if you could ever be the ruler your father believed you could be.

As you walked together in the garden, your mind drifted back to the Iron Throne, to the cuts it had already inflicted on your father. The price of rule was steep, and as much as you tried to push the thought aside, you knew that one day, that same burden would fall upon you.

But for now, you would follow your father’s guidance, learn what you could, and prepare for the day when the realm would look to you to sit upon the throne that demanded blood as its price.

The evening was late, and the Red Keep had settled into a quiet stillness, with only the occasional flicker of torchlight and the distant echo of footsteps from the night’s watchmen to break the silence. It was during these hours that you found your way to Rhaenyra’s chambers, as had become your clandestine routine. Your secret meetings, hidden from the prying eyes of the court, were the only times you both could truly be together—free from the weight of duty and expectation.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of candles casting long shadows across the walls. You could hear the gentle rustling of the curtains as the evening breeze slipped through the cracks of the window. But none of that mattered. The moment you entered, your attention was solely on her—Rhaenyra, lying in wait on the bed, her eyes bright with the same fire that had been between you since your first kiss.

Without a word, you crossed the room and claimed her lips in a feverish kiss, your hands cradling her face as you pressed her down into the softness of the mattress. The world outside, the pressures of the throne, the burdens you carried as the heir to the realm—all of it disappeared in her presence. Here, in the dark, it was just the two of you, and nothing else mattered.

Your body moved instinctively, pressing closer to hers, the thin layers of clothing between you both doing little to contain the heat of your shared desire. Rhaenyra responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled you closer, her breath coming faster with each kiss. You could feel her heart beating in time with your own, the intensity of the moment building as your hands roamed over her body.

She broke the kiss for a moment, her eyes locked onto yours, filled with the same fierce affection and need that mirrored your own. "I missed you," she whispered, her voice soft but filled with the weight of truth.

You smiled, brushing a strand of silver hair from her face. "I’m here now," you whispered back before capturing her lips once more, your kisses growing deeper, more urgent.

As you pressed her further into the bed, her hands moved down, her fingers grazing the waistband of your trousers before slipping inside. The sensation made you groan into the kiss, your body reacting instantly to her touch. She worked with practiced ease, her hand moving slowly as she freed your manhood from the confines of your clothing.

The moment her fingers wrapped around you, the world seemed to narrow to the sensation alone. Your groan deepened, your forehead resting against hers as you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment. The heat between you both was nearly unbearable, the need to be closer, to feel her entirely, overwhelming every other thought in your mind.

"Rhaenyra," you breathed against her lips, your voice hoarse with desire.

She smiled, a soft, knowing smile, and kissed you again, her hand continuing its slow, deliberate work. The pressure built quickly, your body responding to her touch with an intensity you couldn’t control. Her thumb brushed against you in just the right way, and with a final shudder, you felt the release you had been so desperately chasing.

You groaned against her lips, your body trembling as you spilled yourself onto her thigh, the tension that had been building finally giving way to sweet relief. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your forehead still pressed to hers as you tried to regain your composure.

Rhaenyra smiled at you, her expression one of both satisfaction and tenderness. She brought your face back to hers for another kiss, soft and slow, as though savoring the moment. Her fingers trailed through your hair as she pressed closer to you, the warmth of her body a comfort in the quiet aftermath.

You opened your eyes, your heart still racing, and kissed her forehead gently. "It’s my turn," you whispered against her skin, your voice filled with both affection and desire. "To return the favor."

Rhaenyra’s eyes gleamed with anticipation as you began trailing kisses down her jawline, your lips brushing against her neck, lingering there as you felt the pulse of her heartbeat beneath your lips. She sighed softly, her hands gently pulling at your shoulders as you moved lower, your mouth tracing a path along her collarbone, then down her chest.

Your kisses grew slower, more deliberate, as you moved further down her body, your lips brushing against her stomach, feeling the soft curve of her skin beneath your fingertips. Every touch seemed to draw out a deeper sigh from her, her body relaxing beneath you as she surrendered to the sensations you were creating.

When your kisses reached her womanhood, her breath hitched, and a low moan escaped her lips, her fingers tangling in your hair as she arched slightly beneath you. You felt the heat of her, tasted the subtle sweetness of her skin, and your only thought was to please her, to give her the same release she had given you.

Rhaenyra’s soft moans filled the room, her fingers tightening in your hair as you continued your ministrations, her body trembling with every kiss, every touch. The sounds of her pleasure only spurred you on, the bond between you deepening with each passing second, each shared breath.

As you looked up at her, seeing the way her eyes fluttered closed in pure satisfaction, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. There was no one else in the world who could make you feel the way she did—no one else who could understand the depth of your connection. And in that moment, you knew that nothing, not even the demands of the court, could take this from you.

This was yours. She was yours. And for now, in the quiet intimacy of the night, that was all that mattered.

[heartysworld]

Nobody would dare || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

A/N: She is back after two long months of absence! I hope you guys like this one it's been a while since I wrote something! Anyways,how are you, how have you been? I hope everyone is well and doing good! <3

MASTERLIST

"What's wrong,flower." Aemond asked while holding you close to his chest. "You seem upset." He added.

"I...I heard some things." You murmured.

"About what?" He asked, his tone indicated that he knew where this was going at, but he needed your confirmation.

"On my way here, I heard one if the advisers of the Queen Mother talk about my paternity, how I belonged to a house as further away from the crown as possible and how shameful it is that their Prince is disrespecting the Targaryen bloodline by fathering a child with a bastard. " You whispered.

The moment your words escaped your mouth you felt his body tense, he was fuming

"Do not listen to them, my love. Soon nobody would even dare to even speak your name in a sentence containing a filthy word." He said,his hands fell to your waist before leaning down lay a small kiss on your lips.

"Please Aemond, don't do something foolish, I don't want your family to shame you even more than they do now because of me. I just want to live peacefully with you." You said against his lips.

"Don't worry about me. I couldn't care less of what my family says. As long as you're with me." He said.

"I'm so in love with you." You said, smiling at his words.

"I love you too." He answered. "Now go rest, I know it's been exhausting for you recently. I have a few matters to take care of." He said, hands moving to the small swell of your stomach, covered by a beautiful green dress, the fabric laced with golden threads, creating the illusion of vines spread across your lower half and your chest .

You were your mother's daughter, beautiful and strong-willed, everything a princess needed to be,but you were not your father's daughter. Set Laenor raised you and your brothers as his own, never letting a bad word be said against his children,but despite that people spoke.

Aemond however,did bit care about those rumors,he despised your brother with his entire being but something about his niece always made him soft,ever since the two were little. The second you became if age he wasted no time in asking for your hand in marriage. The Queen was absolutely against such alliance,but the King was delighted to hear about it, claiming it would help settle down the tension that had risen in House Targaryen during the last decade.

The moment you found out you were with child Aemond wasted no time in announcing the news to the royal court. Of course, this caused a lot of mixed opinions, mots of the people were happy that their Prince has found a woman that he actually loves and wants to marry, while others like Otto Hightower, Aemond's grandfather, thought that it was outrageous and even dares to propose a way to solve this "problem" despite the fact you were already married to Aemond.

Aemond barely let you out of his sight after that, whenever he was home he was always around you, and when he had to go away there were always guards sworn to him placed to keep you safe. He always knew what was happening, even if he was on the other side of Westeros.

" Are you going to be gone for long?" You asked, yawning as the thought of the soft sheets of your bed made you sleepy.

"I will be back before you wake up. Now go, Y/N, don't strain yourself too much." He said.

Pecking his cheek one last time you made your way to your chambers, leaving him alone as he left the Red Keep's grounds, deciding to pay a visit to his beloved dragon, Vaghar

A few hours later you were woken up by one of your maids, telling you it was time to get ready for a dinner the Queen requested with you and Aemond. Hearing his name made you remember his words from earlier saying he'll be back before you are awake, but he was still not gone.

You were ready to go now, a beautiful golden dress hugging your body, a ruby necklace hanging from your neck. Your hands were starting to sweat, when the doors of your chambers opened, revealing no one else but your husband himself.

"Gods you're here!" You exclaimed, heading his way for a hug. "I thought I was going to have to face your mother alone, my nerves were are up to the sky." You said.

Your words earned a laugh from him, his hands caressing your cheeks softly.

"Not a chance, love. It took more time than I thought to get done. Don't worry now, let's go." He said, taking a hold of your hand as the two headed towards the King's private dining room.

On your way to dinner you encountered Lord Larys Strong , the man stopping to make a conversation with the Prince.

"Lord Strong , to what do I owe the pleasure?" Aemond asked while he held you close to his body, one of your hands placed on his chest.

"I am sorry to interrupt your plans, Price Aemond, but I would like to ask if you've happened to see one of my men,Ser Denor? I am unable to find him anywhere." The man said, an unreadable expression evident on his face.

"I am sorry, but I cannot help you, I have not seen him either, hopefully you will find him soon." Aemond said, his voice changing on his his last sentence. It couldn't go unnoticed by you.

"Thank you, my Prince,Lady Y/N, once again, sorry to disturb you." He said, bowing before he headed down the large hallway.

"What have you done, Aemond?" You whisper-yelled, hitting his chest with your fist.

Unbothered by your question, he sneaked his hand around your shoulders, tugging you towards the room you were headed to.

"All I can say,love, is that you won't be hearing any rumors coming out of Sir Denor's mouth for a long time." He said, smiling devilishly.

"Gods help us!" You sighted, a hand going to your forehead as you thought of all the things he could've done to the man. A small part of you was satisfied, however, you were happy with the fact that Aemond defended your honor when someone tried to shame you, let alone your future child.

@ccallistata @social-life-does-not-exsists @kiribrima @westsidelegendary @vaf24

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[greycloudsinwinter]

Hello can I request a yandere poly Otto hightower and king Viserys targaryen x reader

YANDERE POLY VISERYS TARGERYAN AND OTTO HIGHTOWER X READER

🐉 viserys is the first to notice you a low born noble with no greed and it made him curious to no who you were .

🛕Otto met you because he had to learn of the low Born who had captivated the kings heart.

🐉spends his time showing off the things he is proud of such as his small sculpture of the kingdom.

🛕Otto worries he is losing control of the king so he begins to spend more and more time with you.

🐉viserys fell first and was proud to admit it after the death of his wife he needed someone to latch on to.

🛕Otto fell harder after you laughed at one of his dry jokes.

🐉🛕both wish the best for you and believe they can do it .

🐉viserys wants you all to himself however Otto advises him otherwise.

🛕Otto hates when viserys interrupts his time with you.

🐉viserys uses his privileges of king to marry you too which Otto becomes bitter over.

🛕eventually Otto convinced the king that you needed two lovers to get the love you need.

🐉🛕both agree to keep you locked up.

🐉🛕rivals are fed to dragons or they are struck down with a guards mighty sword.

🐉🛕both want sons but viserys more then Otto.

🐉🛕can’t escape them with guards following you and servants spying on you.

🐉🛕both prefer private intimacy but aren’t against being all together if there darling asks.

🐉🛕delusional and out of control yanderes .

🐉🛕worst yanderes to have since they have each other to rely on.

Thank you for the request ❤️❤️

[omgkatherine01]

Fire Of the Dragon: Prologue

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem! Targaryen reader

Please comment, like and share ❤

Prince Daemon Targaryen had always hated being wed to Rhea Royce of Runestone. He had never wanted to, but he had been forced to by his brother and King; King Viserys. It had been years before they even consummated their marriage.

Daemon had no intention of having children. He wasn't much found of them.

Until nearly 10 years later in their marriage something happened.

Daemon had been exiled away from King's Landing up and down to the Vale, to be with his lawful wife, but never had he been with her like he should until Viserys had angered him so much.

It had been shortly after the end of the Battle of the Stepstones, when Daemon had been sent away, he had gone to the Vale and vented. Rhea had taunted him again, drinking alongside her husband for the first time in years, until they flew at each other and finally consummated their marriage.

Daemon had been too drunk to even remember and Rhea had not cared much, she had found pleasure when she needed it, but she had never expected the one time she laid with Daemon, she would conceive a child.

Daemon was surprised when she told him. He didn't believe her that it was his, thinking maybe she had slept with someone else.

But he was still there.

And when Rhea gave birth to a girl...

His life changed completely when he first held her.

The babe had the violet eyes of House Targaryen and silver hair.

For the first time, Daemon felt obsoletely happiness.

Visenya.

That was the name he gave her. And for the first time, Rhea agreed with the name.

King Viserys had been happy of the news that Daemon finally consummated his marriage and had a trueborn child, but Otto Hightower had advised the King to let the daughter be raised by her mother or Daemon would turn her into another Visenya.

However, Daemon had hardly let Visenya out of his sight.

He was protective of her and the fear that if she wasn't by his side, something could happen to her and he wouldn't be there to protect her in time. For the first time in his life, he had someone he was willing to die for.

When she was three moons old, Daemon introduced her to his dragon, Caraxes. He was worried she may start crying of seeing a big dragon, but he was delighted when she just smiled and tried to reach the big beast.

Despite Rhea's protests, Daemon had flown with Visenya in his arms to Dragonstone and stolen an egg from the Dragonmont for her.

A year after the birth of the child, and a year after the Stepstones, Viserys had send a word to Daemon, offering peace and a place for Princess Visenya in the court, she'd grow up between the 3-year-old Aegon and the near 1 year-old Helaena.

Against the wishes of Rhea, Daemon had taken his daughter with him to King's Landing. Visenya had still been without a dragon, the egg he stole never hatched but instead of blaming his child or even the egg, Daemon blamed the 'hostile environment' of the Vale.

Daemon's niece, Princess Rhaenyra didn't seem to like how much her father and uncle had been so found of her baby cousin, she tried to get Daemon's attention during his stay, but he had preferred to spend his time with his daughter and show her the Keep.

But Daemon, and his usual schemes messed up when he took Rhaenyra to Flea Bottom down the Street of Silk later on.

Daemon had wished to wed Rhaenyra, but Viserys would not hear a word of it. He demanded Daemon go back to the Vale, to be with his true wife, and his daughter. But Daemon didn't like being told what to do. He had taken Visenya to Dragonstone and left her there with a trusting friend, and he flown back to the Vale on the back of Caraxes.

"Good morrow, Lady Rhea."

Rhea, who had tried to be used to be without her daughter for a moment, had decided to hunt in the mountains in the Vale, but stopped when she met up with her cousin, Gerold Royce.

She gave him a small nod, "Cousin."

Gerold knew how much Rhea missed her daughter, they all missed her, and hoped that Daemon will return back with her soon. So when Gerlod saw his cousin riding on her white horse with bow and arrow, he was happy that she decided to go outside to hunt whiles waiting for her daughter to return to her.

He give her a smile, "What's today's quarry? Rabbit?"

"Deer."

Gerlod raised his eyebrows, "Oh. Fine challenge." Rhea had to smirk at his teasing. "Care for some company?"

Rhea sighed softly and shook her head lightly, "I'd rather ride alone."

Gerlod nodded lightly before he gave her a soft smile, "We all miss her."

Rhea looked at him and gave him a sad small smile before looking up the hills. "I..." she started and let out a breath, "I am planning on taking Visenya up the mountains when she'll return. Show her the beauty of the Vale."

Gerlod nodded with a smile, "Sounds like a good idea. Some mother daughter bonding. Before you'll know it, she'll be riding a horse and will become a skilled hunter."

For the first time in a while, Rhea laughed. "Yes," she agreed. "I shall return soon."

Gerlod nodded with a smile and watched her riding off.

She did often went alone, everyone knew she could handle it. And she was a good and skilled hunter, and excellent rider. But when she was on her way back, she saw a hooded figure await her.

Rhea tilted her head when she saw it was Daemon approaching her. "Husband. Where is Visenya?"

Daemon tilted his head, "She is fine," he spoke, "She is somewhere safe."

Rhea didn't like how he kept taking her daughter away, hardly letting her spend with her. So she decided to taunt him, "Has your brother has at last had his fill of your company?" Rhea had never been afraid of Daemon, he had not been intimidating enough for her to be intimidated by, perhaps Caraxes was but the dragon wasn't here. "Cast you aside in favor of a little girl. That will be something to tell our daughter, wouldn't it?"

Daemon didn't speak a word and appeached closer. "What are you going to do now?" she asked but Daemon still didn't speak as her horse became a little uneasy. She looked down at her horse and back at Daemon. He kept stepping closer. "Where is my daughter?"

Rhea grew annoyed and angry by his silence, and her hand inching to her bow, but Daemon was faster. He took a sudden step forward, scaring the horse who stood on his hindlegs and threw Rhea off his back.

Her neck hit a rock, paralyzing her from the neck down. Daemon looked at her as her horse ran off. He stared at her for a moment before he turned around, planning on letting her die where she lay.

"I knew it," Rhea said, mocking him, even as she laid paralyzed and he stopped and turn to her. "You are nothing more than a coward. I pray to the Gods our daughter takes after me, if she takes after you, she'd be hopeless in this world."

Daemon grinded his teeth, picking up another rock before walking back to Rhea. "You are wrong, dear wife," he taunted her but his voice was deep and restraint from the anger he felt, "She is my daughter, she is the blood of the dragon, and you shall not insult her."

"She is my daughter, a daughter of Runestone," Rhea said, "It won't matter them that she has silver hair, they will not let you take her. They will fight for her."

"Then they can try fight Caraxes, but gēlion zaldrīzes is mine," Daemon said before hitting the rock against her temple making it look like an accident before he walked away to find Caraxes. Silver dragon.

He had flown back to Dragonstone to take his daughter back to King's landing, in time for Princess Rhaenyra's wedding to Ser Laenor Velaryon. At the wedding, he met Rhea's cousin, Gerlod, who believed it was Daemon who killed Visenya's mother, and demanded him to return Visenya to the Vale where she was belong.

Daemon had refused it, and ignored him during the wedding. He had offered himself to Rhaenyra as a potential husband, but Rhaenyra had declined, and Daemon had left the wedding with Visenya before it went downhill.

He stayed in King's Landing for a short while, until he had planned to wed the Lady Laena Velaryon.

[scotianostra]

On September 25th 1237 The Treaty of York was agreed between the kings Alexander II of Scotland and Henry III of England.

This agreement meant that Northumberland, Cumberland, and Westmorland were subject to English sovereignty, but it also set down the border between Scotland and England, that remains, more or less the same as it is to this day.

The treaty was one of a number of agreements made in the ongoing relationship between the two kings. The papal legate Otho (also known as Oddone di Monferrato) was already in England at Henry’s request, to attend a synod in London in November that year, Henry informed Otho in advance of the September meeting at York, which he attended.

The meeting between the two Kings was recorded by the contemporary chronicler Matthew Paris, who disparaged both Alexander and Otho. Paris’ false allegations against Alexander, portraying him as boorishly uncivil and aggressive, have been repeated uncritically in several historical accounts. In fact, Henry and Alexander had had a history of making agreements to settle one matter or another, and they were, by and large, cordial because the two had strong kinship ties. Alexander was married to Henry’s sister, Joan, and Alexander’s sister Margaret had married Hubert de Burgh, a former regent to Henry. Henry was a close confidante of the English King, so it is only natural he would be biased in his favour.

On 13th August 1237 Henry advised Otho that he would meet Alexander at York to conclude a peace treaty. Their agreement was reached on 25th September “respecting all claims, or competent to, the latter, up to Friday next before Michaelmas A.D. 1237”.

The title of the agreement is Scriptum cirographatum inter Henricum Regem Anglie et Alexandrum Regem Scocie de comitatu Northumbrie Cumbrie et Westmerland factum coram Ottone Legato (Agreement written between Henry, king of England and Alexander, king of Scotland concerning the counties of Northumberland, Cumberland, and Westmoreland, done in the presence of papal legate Otto). The particulars of the agreement are as follows:

The King of Scotland: quitclaims to the King of England his hereditary rights to the counties of Northumberland, Cumberland, and Westmorland; quitclaims 15,000 marks of silver paid by King William to King John for certain conventions not observed by the latter; and frees Henry from agreements regarding marriages between Henry and Richard, and Alexander’s sisters Margaret, Isabella, and Marjory.

The King of England grants the King of Scotland certain lands within Northumberland and Cumberland, to be held by him and his successor kings of Scotland in feudal tenure with certain rights exempting them from obligations common in feudal relationships, and with the Scottish Steward sitting in Justice regarding certain issues that may arise, and these, too, are hereditary to the King of Scotland’s heirs, and regarding these the King of Scotland shall not be answerable to an English court of law in any suit.

The King of Scotland makes his homage and fealty – de praedictis terris [in the aforementioned territories]

Both kings respect previous writings not in conflict with this agreement, and any charters found regarding said counties to be restored to the King of England.

Older historians have shown little interest in the agreement, either mentioning it in passing or ignoring it altogether, and it still does not get much mileage in contemporary histories of relations between Scotland and England. Given that the treaty established a border that is still in effect 800 years later, you’d think it would have more prominence.

[in-my-feels-probably]

This Is Me Trying

(Aegon Targaryen x Reader)

Request: Please write more HCs about Aegon, HCs how he reacts when he is loved, cherished and cared for (maybe by reader as his lovely widowed aunt, a younger sister / half-sister of Viserys and daemon) when Aegon is defended by someone, someone really stands up for him and defends and protects him against all hostilities and against the harsh treatment of Alicent, Otto and Aemond!

Requested by: @cara-eva

Hi! Thank you for the request, I’m sorry for the long wait. I don’t love the outcome, but I don’t want to make you wait any longer and I think it’s as good as it’s gonna get. I hope you like the story format instead of the headcanons, it was just easier for me to write this out that way. I’m hoping this is close to what you were looking for. If it’s not, I’m happy to write you another request.

Also, I didn’t really specify how you’re related to Aegon, but when I was writing I was intending for it to be a Targaryen reader that was close to him in age, who grew up in King’s Landing with him. So maybe a daughter to Daemon or Rhaenyra, or a really young sister to Daemon and Viserys. It doesn’t really matter how you choose to perceive it, it’s not important to the plot that much. I hope it’s ok that I left it open to interpretation.

Anyways, I hope you like it, let me know what you think!

(Warnings: swearing, mentions of physical and verbal abuse, mentions of alcohol and substances, references to the street of silk, very vague gore and blood, let me know if i missed anything)

—

You could recall almost all the times in your life where Aegon had looked to you for comfort, after someone in your family was particularly harsh to him.

Not that he didn’t occasionally deserve it, he really did know how to piss someone off if he wanted to. He’s done it to you more times than you can count. You’ve just apparently learned how to deal with him more positively than the rest of your family.

But more often than not, Aegon was criticized and humiliated by his own family, for no real reason at all.

It was something he had become accustomed to, and he no longer fought it. Which meant that you had to be the one to stand up for him, you had to be the shoulder to cry on, because nobody else was going to.

—

Aegon never felt respected or well regarded by most members of the court, particularly regarding his Grandsire. Despite Aegon having a higher position than him, the Hand had no problem making it known that he thought very little of his grandson.

The worst that ever occurred between the two of them that you can recall was when word was sent to King Viserys that Corlys Velaryon had been critically injured, and his impending succession was to be challenged in an upcoming gathering. With the King bedridden, Otto took the news as the perfect opportunity to begin subverting Princess Rhaenyra’s children’s positions.

In doing so, he advised all the King’s children to support Vaemond Velaryon’s claim. He attempted to convince you the evening the message arrived, but you wouldn’t hear it. You made your claim of support for Lucerys on the spot, more so to spite Otto than anything.

In the week before the whole family was set to arrive, he cracked down on you. You had gone to accompany Aegon to the dragonpit, when Ser Erryk found you and asked you both to report to the Tower of the Hand.

You could tell Otto wasn’t pleased with your presence, but you accompanied Aegon anyway, taking a seat while the two of them talked.

“Aegon, it is the same laws being twisted to support Rhaenyra’s claim to the throne that is preventing you from being named heir. You’re the King’s firstborn son, and you’re being robbed of the opportunity to rule.”

“Careful, My Lord,” you had said, grinning. “Your words are embarking upon treason.”

He ignored you, trying not to give you a reaction. “Those very same laws are once again being used to falsely back Lucerys, when the Driftwood Throne should pass to Vaemond Velaryon. Back his claim, My Prince. Out of principle, alone.”

“I don’t give a shit about the throne, Iron or otherwise,” Aegon huffed, like the conversation was the dullest thing he could have possibly endured that day.

Otto narrowed his eyes, speaking firmer. “Lucerys’s claim is illegitimate, even you can admit that. You’ve got more blood of Old Valyria than he does, and he carries the name Velaryon. Does that not unsettle you?”

“Bastard or not, it is of no consequence to me,” Aegon said, shrugging his shoulders. “Let my nephew have it, or don’t let him have it, I don’t care. I’m not interested enough to involve myself.”

Otto stood from his chair, leaning over his desk to look Aegon in the eye. He almost shook with a silent fury, his voice laced with venom.

“Everything handed to you on a silver platter,” he spat, his face cold. “And you waste it. The Seven Kingdoms in the palm of your hand, and you don’t even bat an eye. You may have the pure blood of Old Valyria, but you’re more of a bastard than Lucerys will ever be.”

This caught your attention, making you stand and move behind the chair Aegon was sitting in. You had no problem standing up for Aegon, considering your position was also higher than Otto’s, and you simply enjoyed aggravating him.

“It would be in your best interest to hold your tongue, My Lord. It would be a shame to have to see to it that it is removed from your head.”

Otto took a step toward you, glaring, before leaning down to whisper into Aegon’s ear.

“Look at you…hiding behind a little girl. You’re lazy, arrogant, and a miserable excuse for a Targaryen. You bring shame upon your house, and humiliate yourself while doing so. It’s no wonder our Queen, your own mother, despises you so.”

You shook your head in disbelief, peering down at Aegon to see that his eyes had glossed over, and he had gone rigid in his chair. You placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, rubbing your thumb in circles on the exposed skin peeking out of his shirt.

Aegon took a shaky breath, and you felt a rage course through you that expelled itself before you could stop it. You stepped in between Aegon and Otto, blocking Aegon from Otto’s sight. You reached a hand behind you, offering it for Aegon to take, which he gladly accepted.

With your free hand, you pressed your finger into Otto’s chest, inadvertently pushing him to take a step back.

“You forget yourself, My Lord. What about the phrase, ‘hold your tongue,’ did you not understand? You’re speaking to the Prince, at least pretend to act like it.”

You coaxed Aegon to stand, pulling him with you to head for the door. Otto nearly smirked as he watched, leaning back against his desk. His face fell when you turned around to speak to him, just before you stepped out the door.

“You’re weak, Otto. Pathetic. Half the man Aegon is, if even that. The stewards have more honor and merit than you. You burn bridges with every word you speak against the Crown and its children. As much as you hate to admit it, it still doesn’t change the fact that the histories will record Aegon’s and Lucerys’s names, bastard or not.”

Aegon smirked, watching Otto soak in your words like a slow acting poison, killing its victim cell by cell.

“Your name, however, will be forgotten. Far gone and lost to the obscurity of every man like you that has come before. Your efforts will be for naught, and the rest of your existence will be a miserable one. I hope you’ll come to understand that, because it is undoubtedly your fate. And I, for one, cannot wait to witness it.”

—

Aegon’s Grandsire was not the only member of his family that was known to be unnecessarily cruel. Amongst his siblings, Aegon really only dealt with Aemond’s hostility.

You could recall countless fights between the two of them, always squabbling with each other.

It took a lot for Aemond to actually get physical, or put any real malice behind his words. He was usually content to ignore Aegon’s presence entirely. But when provoked, it was probably better that you were there to intervene.

Despite how harsh Aemond could be, he was the easiest to deal with. You were one of the few members of the family Aemond actually liked, and he normally listened to you when you told him to pipe down. Plus, his and Aegon’s spats were normally sibling derived, and of no major consequence.

The worst between them was when Aemond finally snapped, and the two of them got into a screaming match about Aegon’s lack of ambition. Aegon had just returned from Flea Bottom, and Aemond had returned from an evening flight on Vhagar.

You heard them all the way from your chambers, finding them nearly throwing blows in the courtyard.

“I did not ask for this!” Aegon yelled, making Aemond sneer.

“Clearly. And yet, it was handed to you anyway. Why not take advantage of it?”

Aegon groaned, biting his tongue to keep from screaming. “I don’t care, brother. Why does everyone expect so much from me?”

“Because you piss it all away,” Aemond said, stepping forward and shoving Aegon’s shoulder. “You don’t have any idea how lucky you are.”

Before anyone could actually get hurt, you rushed in between them, pushing them both a few steps back.

“What the fuck are you doing? Do you have any idea how late the hour is?”

“Yes, brother,” Aemond said, exasperatedly throwing his hands up. “Do you? Or have you forgotten the time in the bottom of a cup? Perhaps on the Street of Silk?”

Aegon grumbled, trying to step past you, but you held him back. You narrowed your eyes at him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Stop. I won’t ask again.”

You turned back to Aemond, who looked like he had grown tired of the conversation already.

“Are you done?” You asked, raising a brow. “Must you antagonize him? You know it will do no good.”

Aemond groaned, taking a step back. “Must you always defend him? He’s infuriating. You’re never nearly as harsh enough with him as you should be.”

“He’s not my child, he’s not mine to discipline,” you said, nodding your head towards Aegon. “The Gods know you and your family do that enough to him already.”

Aemond scoffed, turning around, but you caught his arm, making him wait.

“Wait…listen. Trust me, he doesn’t get away with being an ass around me. He knows well enough that it won’t end well for him.”

Aegon had grown quiet, sulking behind you. You kept your eyes on Aemond, not letting him go.

“But I also don’t purposely antagonize him to warrant a reaction. I understand your frustrations, believe me, I do. But squabbling like children does neither of you any good. He’s your brother, Aemond. Ease up…let it go.”

Aemond grumbled, his face cold, like he was debating on if he should walk away or not. Finally, he softened, gently easing his arm from your grip.

“Fine,” he said, turning around to leave the courtyard. “As you wish.”

Once he was out of earshot, you turned around to face Aegon. He had gone pink, awkwardly shifting back and forth from foot to foot. You gave him a less than impressed look, before turning back in the direction of your chambers.

“Come along, then. You can explain to me what happened on the way. I swear, it is baffling how you two manage to annoy me more and more every day.”

Aegon lightened up, moving to match your stride. “Oh, come on, darling. Just admit it. You enjoy it, you know you do.”

You rolled your eyes at his improved mood, walking faster, letting him trail you all the way back to your chambers.

—

Settling tensions between Aemond and Aegon was far easier than dealing with Otto and the court. Plus, you found it to be the least hurtful to Aegon.

The harsh words that hurt the most…were from his own mother, Queen Alicent.

Aegon knew he was the least favorite, of both his mother and his father. He knew how she valued Aemond, and how she doted on Helaena. He knew that, despite his father neglecting all his youngest children, the King at least had something in common with his younger siblings.

Aegon was almost foreign to him, like a granted wish gone awry.

Despite being the King’s firstborn son, Aegon’s very existence was a constant reminder of all the King and Queen’s failures in the family, and of all the wasted opportunities to strengthen House Targaryen.

To the King, Aegon was a reminder of the years he wasted on wanting a son, neglecting Rhaenyra as his first born.

To Alicent, Aegon was a reminder of how she was a child herself, practically sold and made to squeeze out heirs for the Crown. Aegon was a product of her father’s own selfish ambition, a point of view she could not bring herself to look past.

She loved her son, nobody doubted that.

But she did not like him. The same could be said for the King.

Considering she was the Queen, Aegon’s mother was a lot more difficult for you to stand up to. Speaking directly against her in her presence was not wise, and you often had to bite your tongue and console Aegon about it later.

This evening in particular was proving to be one of the worst times she had publicly treated him, both verbally and physically. Apparently, she had grown quite used to disciplining him in front of you.

If you could even call it that.

It had all happened so fast. You were in the Queen’s chambers, sitting by the fire with her.

One minute, you were having tea with Alicent and listening to her tell you about her day. The next, Aegon had been dragged in by Ser Criston, unsuccessfully fighting against his hold.

Ser Criston dragged him into the center of the room, letting him go before standing in front of the door to block the exit. Not that he necessarily needed to. Aegon couldn’t beat Ser Criston in a fight on a good day. Let alone as drunk as he apparently was.

“I apologize for the intrusion, Your Grace, My Lady. I found him nearly passed out on the steps outside the training yard. The Prince has apparently already had his fill. Didn’t even make it to Flea Bottom, which is where I presume he was going.”

Alicent closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “You found him? Or someone alerted you of his presence?”

“One of the servants, Your Grace. Apparently he was making quite the fuss before he passed out.”

Aegon collapsed into a nearby chair, covering his eyes with the heels of his hands. He let out a groan, leaning back.

As you looked at him, you realized it wasn’t just wine that had weakened his resolve. His eyes were hazy, his movements staggered. He had taken milk of the poppy, and quite a high dosage at that.

An option that he rarely referred to anymore, knowing how much you hated seeing him on it. Something must’ve happened, something bad.

“A fuss?” You asked, trying to avoid staring at Aegon.

“It is not for a Lady’s ears, I’m afraid,” Ser Criston hesitated. “He was…rather crude, I should say. Speaking incoherently to himself, loud enough for the servants to take notice.”

Alicent stood and nodded, brushing her skirts down. “Thank you, Ser Criston. I appreciate your discretion. I will handle it from here, you may go.”

“Yes, My Queen,” he said, nodding to her before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him.

You stood, unsure of whether or not you should leave as well. You would later come to regret not doing so.

Alicent stood in front of Aegon, glaring down at him. “Have you no shame? Is the reputation you already uphold not bad enough? Do you have any idea about the kind of burden you are, not only on yourself, but on your family?”

Aegon didn’t look up, keeping his eyes on the floor. He slumped down in his chair, shielding his eyes from the light of the fire.

“Look at me,” Alicent said, before sharpening her tone enough to make Aegon flinch. “Look at me!”

When he didn’t, she pulled his hair at the nape of his neck back to tilt his head up, before backhanding him across the face. Her ring caught on his cheek, leaving a small cut at the top of his cheekbone.

You quietly gasped, bringing a hand to your mouth to stifle the noise.

Alicent didn’t seem fazed, now gaining Aegon’s attention. “Is it not enough to embarrass me, not only as your Mother and as your Queen, but to embarrass the whole of your family, as well? Does it not embarrass you, carrying yourself like this, in front of them…in front of Y/N? Does it not bother you, what she must think of you?”

Aegon’s eyes flitted to yours, before turning away in shame. You felt your heart ache at the sight, keeping quiet beside your chair.

“How many times must I discuss this with you, Aegon? When will you learn?”

“What’s the point, Mother?” Aegon finally asked, giving her a sad smile. “You’ll be disappointed in me anyway, no matter what I do. Why even bother?”

She slapped him across his cheek again, adding to the already reddened skin. The blood from his cut smeared along his cheekbone. Aegon let out a sound of pain, swallowing his words.

You couldn’t take it any longer, walking over and gently placing your arm on Alicent’s, turning her to you.

“You Grace, I am sorry to interrupt. But it seems I have overstayed my welcome, and I would hate to intrude. I’ll be on my way, if you’ll excuse me.”

She shook her head, grabbing one of your hands in hers. “Not at all, my dear. I enjoyed your company. I thank you for it, and I apologize for my son’s interruption.”

“He was no trouble, My Queen. If you’d like, I can see to it that he makes it back safely to his chambers?”

“That is quite alright, darling,” she said, turning back to Aegon. “I have a few more things I’d like to discuss with my son, but it is kind of you to offer. You may go, Y/N. Thank you for the tea.”

You politely smiled. “Of course. Goodnight, Your Grace.”

You turned to go, hesitating at the door when you heard Alicent retreat back to stand in front of Aegon.

You didn’t want to go.

You didn’t want to leave him there, to endure any more of his mother’s wrath. But there was nothing you could do.

There was little you could say this time. There was no way to protect him while it happened, not without risking yourself in the process. And you knew how much Aegon hated when you did that, when it was actually dangerous.

So, you left, returning to your chambers.

You simply had to wait for Aegon to make a decision. It usually boiled down to two options.

Go to Flea Bottom, start drinking, and keep drinking until whatever memory he had of the night disappeared into his cups. Or…he could go to your chambers, and find another kind of comfort there.

You prayed that he’d choose the latter, tonight. You paced back and forth in your chambers for what seemed like hours before you got any answers. You knew the gods ruled in your favor when a feeble knock was heard on your chamber door later that night, making you sigh in relief.

“Come in,” you said, anxiously standing at the foot of your bed.

There was a pause, and then the door creaked open, revealing a disheveled and apprehensive Aegon. He closed the door behind him, coming to stand in the middle of the room.

He wouldn’t meet your eyes.

You took the time to look at him, observing his form. The bruise on his cheek had settled in, all black and blue. The cut from his mother’s ring was beginning to scab over, dry blood crusted along his cheekbone. His cheek was reddened, with the slightest imprint of a hand, marking the flesh. A fresh bruise was beginning to form around his temple, a garish green encircling it.

You didn’t even want to know what that one was from.

You slowly approached him, careful not to make any rash movements. “Can I touch you?”

He still didn’t meet your eyes, but slowly nodded.

Gently, you cupped his jaw so you could turn his head, checking for any wounds you could have missed. Slowly and carefully, you moved your hands up to cup his face in your palms, gently running your thumbs across his cheekbones.

Aegon let out a pained whimper, leaning into your touch.

“Did I hurt you?” You asked, moving to pull your hands away. He quickly stopped you, grabbing your wrists and holding you still, silently asking for you to not let go.

His voice was shaky. “No.”

“You weren’t drunk, were you?” You asked, resuming running your thumbs across the top of his cheekbones. “It was milk of the poppy.”

His eyes met yours, a look of guilt flashing across his face. You shook your head, shushing him.

“I’m not angry. Just tell me the truth.”

He was reluctant to, but he finally nodded, confirming your suspicions. You sighed deeply, moving your hands to brush his hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ears.

“Why?”

“You know why,” he replied, his voice quiet.

You did.

Sometimes, getting drunk wasn’t enough. Sometimes, Aegon felt like he was suffocating, and the only way to fill his lungs was to cloud his mind first, easing his thoughts. Milk of the poppy usually did the trick.

You didn’t press the matter further, nodding. “Are you going to tell me what happened after I left?”

“The usual happened,” he said, his jaw clenched. “Mother yelled, I listened. She hit, I got hit. Don’t worry, though, you witnessed the best of it. Don’t think you missed the entertaining part.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, sharpening your tone. “Don’t say that. I didn’t enjoy a moment of it, not a single second. Do you think I like watching you get hurt?”

He returned his gaze to the floor, flinching at your sudden change in demeanor. You stopped yourself, not wanting to sound like you were scolding him, like his mother does all too frequently. Gently, you lifted your sleeve and tried to softly wipe away the blood that had stained his cheek.

You were interrupted by a sudden tear, rolling down his cheek. You looked up, only to be met with Aegon’s eyes brimming with tears that were slowly falling down his face like fresh snow from the sky.

“Aegon?” You asked, cupping his chin, trying to make him look at you. The tears kept flowing. Finally, his eyes met yours.

“Am I a burden?”

Your jaw slacked in shock. “What? Of course not, why would you ask that?”

“My Mother believes it to be true,” he said, face crumbling. “That’s what she said, after you left. That I’m a burden to you, always making you clean up my messes.”

You quickly shook your head, gently wiping away his tears. “That’s not true, Aegon. She’s wrong. I don’t do anything for you out of obligation, or because I feel I need to. I do it because I want to. If nobody in this family is going to give you even an ounce of optimism or support, then I’ll happily be the one to do it.”

“You shouldn’t have to–,” he starts, pulling himself from your grip.

“I want to.”

Aegon took a deep breath, and you watched as his shoulders shook and his eyes clouded with tears, all red and bloodshot. He made a sound of frustration, balling his hands into fists at his sides. His voice was desperate.

“I’m trying, Y/N…I’m trying so fucking hard.”

You felt your heart shatter, quickly throwing your arms around his neck. You pulled him close to you, cradling his head with one hand, squeezing him tightly to you with the other. Aegon melted into your embrace, locking his arms around you, desperately clutching at the fabric of your clothes. He hid his face in the crook of your neck, and you felt hot tears landing on your skin. You paid them no mind, gently shushing him.

“I know you’re trying,” you said, willing yourself not to cry as well, staying strong for him. “I know. And that’s all I could ever ask of you.”

You leaned back far enough to cup his jaw, wiping away the tears. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, gently caressing his face.

“I know it seems like nobody is seeing your efforts, or that nobody cares enough to acknowledge them. But I care, alright? I care. I see it, I see you trying. You’re doing your best, Aegon. That’s all you can really do. And if our family can’t see or understand that, it’s their problem. Not yours. Alright?”

He slowly nodded, taking a deep breath. “Alright.”

You nodded, taking his hand in yours, pulling him along with you to your bed.

“Come on, then. It’s late, you need to lie down. I refuse to deal with you all cranky and sleep deprived in the morning because you were too stubborn to rest.”

Aegon softly grinned, letting you guide him. “What are you talking about? I’m a delight in the mornings.”

“You’re a gremlin in the mornings,” you retorted, patting the space of the bed next to you. “Now lie down. That wasn’t a request.”

Aegon could feel the troubles lifting from his shoulders already, watching you invite him into your space with open arms. He nearly chuckled at the serious face you had put on, one you normally reserved for scoldings.

“As you command, darling,” he said, crawling in next to you. “Who would I be to deny you?”

“A fool.”

Your reply was quick, with absolutely no hesitation in your voice. It made Aegon grin wider as he felt his heart warm, settling himself close beside you.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

—

A/N - Hi! I don’t love this outcome honestly, but I hope this is what you were looking for. If it’s not, I’ll gladly accept another request and try to do better. Let me know what you think.

[asa-do-your-thing]

Not me getting excited with your prospective fics, adding them like i'm carrying a shopping cart 💀😂

- Otto with a corruption kink finds out his object of desire is Married and has severe cognitive dissonance (this sounds so interesting)

- Criston x F Reader but ancient Greek mythology (i stan one problematic misogynist)

- Jace fucking reader in the rain (outdoors?!?! F yeah)

- Cregan tries to gift you a direwolf only to find out that the direwolf has separation anxiety (uwu time! 🥺)

Haha thank you for your enthusiasm! I cannot write all at once (so just keep an eye out for the rest ;) ) but here is your Gilf ficlet:

"My Marble Statue "

Otto Hightower x F! Reader - 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Sex/Smut, fellatio, fingering, big age gap, power imbalance, otto is the main character so automatic misogyny warning, implied violence, religion, abuse of power, dubcon, alcohol

Otto Hightower, the King’s Hand, was a man in his sixties, whose days were normally spent at court, advising the King and, essentially, ruling the country on his behalf. He had been appointed to his post for many years and was respected and feared by all who knew him.

At court, Otto was accustomed to being surrounded by beautiful ladies, draped in luxurious fabrics and vying for the Princes’ attention. Although he had grown used to life as a widower and taking a new bride had never truly been on his mind; most young women would seemingly resist his ideal of a perfect, modest and religious wife. But one day, Otto's gaze locked with that of an unfamiliar woman. She seemed to be of a lower station than the others, possibly a lady-in-waiting or courtier’s daughter. She was much younger than the other ladies, yet her features were aglow with an innocent beauty that left Otto utterly captivated.

He felt himself drawn to her, as if an unseen force were pulling him closer and closer. He watched with rapt attention as she moved around the court, her every movement bewitching in its grace and elegance. Her conversations were polite yet restrained, her eyes flitting quickly away whenever a man drew close to her. In the light of day, she stood in the sept like a marble statue - a beautiful image of piety and modesty. His breath caught as he noticed that her eyes were dark like coal, her hair even darker as it ran down her back like ink spilled from a quill. Every fiber of his being yearned for her, but she was beyond reach; it stirred something inside him - a fire that had been smoldering for ages, pulsing through every vein in his body until it all rushed at once to his loins and pressed urgently against the fabric of his breeches.

He felt the irresistible pull of attraction towards her as he saw her in court. He knew it was wrong—she was so young and innocent, and he was the King’s Hand sworn to serve justice with a calm impartiality. Yet despite knowing that their relationship would be difficult, if not impossible, Otto could not deny his hunger for her. The days that followed brought him more difficulty than ever before, as Otto found himself continually yearning for her and made every effort to speak with her without letting his desires take over. With each conversation, he did his best to keep his thoughts on virtuous matters, though he still noticed the curves of her body as she moved.

He was amazed at how quickly she seemed to take to him, and all too soon, his heart felt like it was taking flight. He had not expected to find himself in a situation such as this, but his feelings for her were too strong for him to ignore. He continued to fight against his feelings, knowing that he must remain a loyal subject to the King, but he could not deny the deep love and lust he felt for the woman he had only just met.

One night, after years of unspoken desire, Otto could no longer contain his urge to propose. Yet when he arrived at the young woman's chambers, he found her intoxicated with other ladies of the court. His heart was heavy as he swept her away from imminent danger and carried her into her bedroom, quickly dismissing the other young girls. The moment they entered, his breath was taken away by the room - a star-studded ceiling depicting heavenly scenes; walls adorned with tapestries of legendary battles and mythical creatures; a giant bed draped in velvet curtains of blue and green. Otto couldn't help but feel an undeniable tension between them as he set her on her feet with tenderness.

He was enthralled by her beauty, his heart racing as he took in every exquisite detail - from her porcelain skin that looked like polished ivory, to her lips that were like perfect rosebuds. "Thank you so much, Ser Otto...," she whispered sweetly and flashed him a small smile, before kicking off her slippers and laying down on the bed. All thoughts of proposing had been forgotten, replaced with an uncontrollable desire to take her right then and there. "May... may I help you with anything, my Lord?", she asked shyly, looking at him with the most tantalizing doe-eyed gaze he had ever seen.

Giving in to his primal urge, he stepped closer and grabbed her head between his hands, pulling her into a passionate kiss. "Lay down, I need you. I need your eyes to look at me like your sweetheart; I need your whispers to call out my name, I need you..." he growled hungrily, pushing up her dress to expose her pale hips which he kissed fervently, leaving thick red marks as evidence of his hunger.

Otto spread her trembling legs wider and hissed in pleasure as his fingers slid easily into her slick sweetness. He murmured into her mouth, "It seems you need me too...", his voice deep and urgent. With a steady rhythm his tongue explored her eager lips while his fingers stroked her deeper, faster. His breathing grew ragged as he savored every moan that escaped from her. "Gods, you are so tight...my innocent, beautiful girl," he murmured between desperate kisses, delighting in the way she melted for him.

He felt her powers pulling him in as she tugged him onto the bed, next to her. There was no hesitation, no room for doubt. "Otto, please don't stop.." She purred and enveloped him in a tight embrace. Quickly undoing his breeches, he nodded at her. "Strip down, my Lady, I must feast my eyes on your perfect body..."

With one fluid motion, the dress was off her shoulders and she lay flat on the bed beside him, being pulled inexorably towards his throbbing manhood. His voice quavered as he murmured in her ear "I need to feel your soft lips encase me." Unable to answer with words, he simply nodded as she tenderly took him into her hands and gazed up at him with searching eyes. "Can I?", she asked softly while tracing circles around his moist tip. Even now she was kind and humble...

In this moment, Otto felt like a god among gods. His body hummed with pleasure as the young woman beneath him looked up with wide eyes begging for more. He could feel her mouth around his manhood and the soft wetness of her tongue - he wanted to stay in this bliss forever. He tightened his grip on her head and deepened the penetration while she let out a loud moan that shivered through every inch of his aroused body. His pleasure surged and threatened to overwhelm him but he wouldn't give in just yet.

He tightly gripped her soft hips with his hands and dragged her body against his hard warmth. His eyes seared into her, smoldering with hunger as he breathed the words "Do you want me inside you?" against her lips. She shuddered in desire and nodded eagerly, arching herself up to meet him. With a deep guttural moan, Otto positioned himself between her quivering legs and thrust himself into her tightness. The pleasure was almost unbearable but they both felt it course through their veins as he slowly moved back and forth. His voice was low and commanding now: "Take me, my little dove, I know you can... Be good for me..."

From the moment he entered her, his instinctive desire drove him to move beyond what he thought was possible. Her warmth enveloped him, consuming his mind and shutting out everything else. The only thing that filled his being was her delicate scent and velvet skin, hearing her heavenly moans as she clung tightly to him with each thrust. As his climax grew closer, he knew he should have pulled away to release on the bed, but he could not resist the deep, quivering heat inside her. When his climax arrived, a loud cry of her name burst from him before he collapsed onto her exhausted body, trapping her beneath his own.

Having caught his breath, she gently pushed him to the side and quickly threw on her dress again and grinned. "Husband!", she called towards the other end of the room, where a small door opened and Larys Clubfoot emerged with an even larger smile. "Good evening, Ser Otto."

Otto's post-orgasmic haze quickly cleared as he saw her and Larys together, their hands intertwined with gleaming rings around each of their fingers. Though his mind was still slightly clouded from his encounter, Otto could not help but feel a huge wave of shame as the reality of what had happened sunk in. He had thought she was pure and innocent, but in the end it had been nothing more than a ploy by Larys to get something to hold against him in the future. It seemed she had indeed not been as naive as he'd thought, and this knowledge left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Larys continued smiling at him while the woman who had just moments ago taken his pleasure stood beside him with an air of satisfaction about her. "Congratulations wife, now let us hope that the King's Hand shall be more cautious about his decisions in the future", he said before nodding at Otto and turning away with her on his arm, disappearing again in the hidden caverns below King's Landing. Otto watched them leave, realizing too late that he should have known better than to even consider taking such risks - no matter how tempting they may be. "I shall hang you, you disgusting wretch! Behead you, Clubfoot!", he screamed and buried his face in his hands.

He remained rooted to the spot, his mind in a whirl and an ache in his heart. He had acted so rashly; he was paying the price for his foolishness now. His reputation was fractured, and there was no longer any chance of finding the kind of innocent love that he had always longed for - and yet here he was, feeling nothing but regret at the choices he had made.

Otto promised himself he would never look for love again. He wanted to focus on his own success and reputation, no matter the cost. As he walked away from the room, one thing was certain: what had already happened could not be changed. But despite this vow, thoughts of the mysterious woman lingered in his mind.

[neonlight2]

Jaehaera Targaryen (oc)

Masterlist

Warnings: smut mentions, sexism, touch of homophobia, and mentions of incest (and step-cest)

Again— it’s the Targaryens, what do you expect.

(Only the older parts of the family cause… the younger ones don’t know the difference)

What we’re their relationships like as she got older?

Viserys

First off— Absolute pushover.

Shouldn’t be a surprise with how he treats Rhaenyra. Man will literally break all tradition, with the justification of “I am king”.

Jaehaera wants to wear pants instead of dresses. Done, without a second to waste. And if she did want to wear a dress, you best believe it was the best money could buy.

His darling daughter wants to study with high scholars— only the best teachers of course. Anything she wished to know or learn she’d be taught. Books would be imported from the farthest edges of Westeros. Oh— and best believe he built her a private library. He knows how she loves her privacy, how she detested the public and fuss of events. He’d catered to her every need as she grew.

Even when he didn’t necessarily agree— like with swordsmanship. Viserys would be so freaking worried at the beginning, not wanting his little girl to get hurt. But he lets her anyway.

And even though it’s “against the rules”, Jaehaera could compete in tournaments whenever she damn well please, and he was always there to watch with pride.

There was not a price in gold that would hinder her requests. If the girl has asked him for a fucking castle bigger than king’s landing, it would have been made— and he’d put every man he could to work in order for it to be done quickly. Amazons quick delivery service would have NOTHING on this man’s will.

However, she was never extreme in that fashion. The kingdom was honestly lucky that she was far more rational and conservative with money, or else they may be in poverty.

So as she got older, matured, and got around to marrying age— all suitors of all ages came in like filthy vultures. And of course, no one was ever good enough.

He thought the same for both his daughters, the only reason why he made Rhaenyra marry was in order to secure he claim to the throne— heirs. Jaehaera on the other hand…

Jaehaera at 14/15: Father I don’t wish to marry—

Viserys: GREAT ITS SETTLED THEN

Of course if she did fall in love or wish to marry, he wouldn’t be able to say no. It’s damn near impossible. I swear to god this man would actually rather die than say no to her.

Jaehaera would DEFINITELY become more of an adviser to Viserys as she got older. She was already like his own little personal spy, so as she got older, made more connections, and was actually able to stir the pot without being harmed (because now she’d love for a bitch to try—), that relationship only grew stronger.

Most people when they watch the two together could get mental whiplash I’m not even gonna lie. One moment Jaehaera is kneeling before Viserys calling him “my king” or “your majesty”— basically going through ALL the damn formalities even though viserys has told her a thousand times she doesn’t need to— just to act like a child the next minute. Sure, if she has something political or otherwise important to tell him, Jaehaera stays more calm, professional even. But the moment the formality is over and done she like, “Hi dad! Wanna watch me dual? Oh! I learned a new trick on Shkros!”

She’d also just tell him the most random shit and facts she learns, probably rant about stories or things she’s gotten insanely fixated on. Viserys would EAT THAT SHIT UP. He could listen for hours and smile or laugh at the girl.

Oh, and Viserys literally became deaf at some point to all slander toward her, even if it came from Otto. Man would not hear of any of it.

In his mind Jaehaera did no wrong. So when anyone questioned her innocence or reputation—

“All of these are mere, petty rumors from jealousy for my daughter’s brilliance.”

“I will not hear of it, next person to say such a thing will lose their tongue.”

“Jaehaera would never, and even if she had you have no proof.”

“Who are you to question the princess? My daughter?”

To the day until she inevitably starts leaving more frequently, they would meet almost every night in the kitchens, sharing bread and milk like the day they first met.

Sadly, around the time his sickness gets really bad, she would be gone even longer. He knew why.

She had spent months before trying to heal him, and she did a better job then the scholars and maesters could ever dream. But they both knew that it was only slowly his demise. There was no cure for time, as it was fast on viserys heels.

A lot of people thought they had a falling out during this time because of her absence, but the truth of it was that they had an agreement. Jaehaera had made a promise to secure and protect their family. Not just Rhaenyra’s claim to the throne, but the state of it all.

She went to every kingdom to make alliances, or to strengthen old ones. She made deals to compact no army could penetrate them. And she would be damned if she failed.

Jaehaera had barely the idea of what love felt like before she became Viserys’ daughter. So with all her being she’d protect her home, her life, his legacy, her family.

Daemon

Two words— Teddy Bear.

He’s an absolute simp.

Would and does worship the ground she walks on.

If you thought he was insufferable when she was younger, following her around, constantly seeking her attention, giving her anything she stares at too long, and talk about protective— times that by a million.

The moment he came back and saw how she had…matured. Daemon went feral. I’m talking glaring at every person who so much as glances Jaehaera’s way that wasn’t family. He even had a small bit of beef with Sir Harwin because of how close he had become to her. It was only until she told him to back the fuck off that he calmed down.

He’d also use every excuse he could muster to be close to her. And Daemon likes to be sly, or try at least, so it would start innocent.

*walking literally anywhere, even around the castle, and he hold her hand* “Don’t want you to get lost my little wanderer.”

*Leans against her: arm around shoulders, or wrapped around her waist to rest his head in the crook of her neck.* “I’m tired.” Or if your at an event, “You soothe the throbbing in my head, love.”

Then this bitch would push his luck.

He’d slowly slip his fingers up her shirt or any bare skin he could get his hands on— and being that she didn’t normally like to wear much, he had so many places to choose from.

“My hands are cold!” *it’s literally like 100 degrees out*

He also has a weird obsession with her hair. Like he’d dimly admire it at first, wondering what it feels like. Was it was soft as feathers? Or smooth as silk?

Well one day he impulsive touched it. Of course he made it seem as if it were a normal interaction— brushing it away from her open shoulders to show off the dip in the heavenly dress she wore to some banquet he couldn’t even remember the occasion for.

All he knew was that he instantly became addicted to the feeling of the strands between his fingers.

They’d be talking underneath the trees of the gardens and he’d randomly start petting her head. At first Jaehaera would tense up because of the foreign feeling, but after a few seconds and Daemon asking her permission, she’d let him to it again. Oh he’d be jumping for joy in his brain.

Especially loving it when her eyes would flutter shut when he’d start to scratch her scalp and massage her temples.

And however wholesome this man could be at sometimes, he’s mind would definitely wander. He’d start to wonder what it’s be like if she were underneath him, hair and body sprawled out for him to play with. To make her feel good.

Or perhaps if she were to ride him and as she leaned forward, her hair would drape around them, all while tickling his thighs, arms and face. Oh how pretty she would look.

Oh and don’t get him started about how hard he gets when she pulls her hair into a ponytail or high braid. All he could think about was taking her from behind, pulling on her hair so that her back would be flush with his chest.

God she drove him crazy.

So the infamous Prince, know for being I’ll tempered and cruel, would be siting with the girl in her free time, taking turns braiding each others chair.

What he doesn’t know is that she’s not as oblivious as he thinks. It wasn’t hard to notice how he’d have to shift in he seat around her, or the growing bulge in his pants as she laid her head in his lap— letting out shameless moans as he kneaded her scalp.

Jaehaera just thought in rather fun to tease him, and to make him think she was totally innocent in her acts.

But besides the obvious sexual tension— Dameon would respect Jaehaera a lot. Of course he’d still be hot headed, crazy, and rebellious. It was his nature. And it also happened to be hers in some cases.

It was almost like putting two delinquents in the same room with some gunpowder a few matches.

The only difference was that she was more rational when it came to future consequences. She actually looked ahead. Dameon… not so much. He’d rather jump into battle or war, only depending on himself and his sword “dark sister”.

But.. if he had to, the person who’d he’d listen to was Jaehaera. And that’s because in his eyes, she was always right.

And that was not to be disputed.

Rhaenyra

She’s spoiled. We all know that. So she’s definitely get more possessive of Jaehaera.

When she married Laenor, it was hard because she longed for intimacy that he could not give her. But she was content with him because she thought she had at least evaded being married to an imbecile.

So even though it was unheard of, Rhaenyra still insisted on sharing a bed with her almost every night. Both girls were always close, and comfortable with each other physically. Rhaenyra had been the second person to bless her with gentle affection through touch. One might say that other than herself, Jaehaera trusted Rhaenyra with her body the most.

They would cling to each other in the night, bodies intertwined, grazing each other carefully, or tenderly squeezing flesh. All of it was natural to them. And to Jaehaera it was all she’d ever known when it came to the pair. It was only after their incident at the brothel that caused a shift in their behavior.

Rhaenyra had only heard of what had happened with Jaehaera because of her fathers reprimanding. It was light compared to what she faced, but she still felt something brewing in her stomach. She couldn’t quite place the emotion, it resting somewhere in between jealousy and curiosity. And it scared her.

Soon she found herself growing paranoid and angered at everyone Jaehaera looked at fondly. Especially a particular maid of hers…

Soon Rhaenyra would lie awake at night, Jaehaera sleeping soundly beside her, and she’s let her mind wander to what she thought the girl may have been doing with other women.

Soon she’d been touching herself at the thought of it being her who received such attention from Jaehaera.

And later as she noticed Daemon’s actions toward them both she couldn’t help but dwell on the thought of having them both. Even after Daemon married Laena. She’s simply add her to the equation too; she knew how much Jaehaera fancied her.

However, as the drift between her and Alicent grew even larger— especially after the whole air Criston cole situation— she became more worried that Jaehaera would leave her.

She had no reason to worry, I mean Jaehaera absolutely adore the girl. She would do practically anything for her. And the two princesses were almost attached at the hip at some point.

Yet as Jaehaera began to venture farther out, her time away from home increasing every voyage, Rhaenyra would make sure to claim whatever time Jaehaera had to spare when she had returned.

Of course, she didn’t mind sharing this time with other people she loved: Viserys, Daemon, Laenor, Sir Harwin.

Jaehaera knew. Anyone could tell that her children were not sired by Laenor, but Jaehaera knew that they were his kids.

And that’s because she walked in on them fucking once.

To this day she’d tease Rhaenyra about it, occasionally praising her for how quiet she could be with such a large prick inside her.

(She would also confirm to anyone that asks that Sir Harwin is hung— because let’s be honest he is.)

And after Rhaenyra had Jace, she’s notice that happened to grab even more of Jaehaera’s attention. More of her protection. Jaehaera would visit more frequently, ask if she was being properly taken care of, if anyone had disrespected her, and constantly hovering around her and Jace when she was at home.

As much as Rhaenyra loved Sir Harwin, she couldn’t deny that Jaehaera was a huge reason for her having more children. For the more she had, she more of Jaehaera she got.

Alicent

Obsessed and paranoid.Gonna be real— we all saw this coming.

Alicent would definitely be giving yandere, but she would never tell Jaehaera when she could or could not leave. (Like shed be able to in the first place.)

At first, when they’re in their later teens, Alicent really just wants to keep Jaehaera in her life. So she sees Rhaenyra as a threat, because they’re at all odds.  She gets extremely worried whenever Jaehaera starts to pull away because of her marrying Viserys, and a little scared. Alicent really didn’t like lying to her, but she was as equally as scared of her father’s backlash. So when Jaehaera started to catch on with the whole scheme, Alicent didn’t know what to do or think.

Jaehaera was never actually cruel to her in anyway. In fact, the rather opposite. She’d still join her for tea or visit her whenever Rhaenyra was busy with her duties. But there was always a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that made her need validation.

“You’re not mad at me are you Princess?”

Glancing up intently at her, Jaehaera would answer, “No, Ali. I just hate your father insists on hurts those I care for.”

Hitching her breath, there was a small flutter in the pit of her stomach. Jaehaera made it sound as if she were included in the category. That sent Alicent’s heart on fire.

“And don’t think of defending him darling,” Jaehaera snipped, standing up to grab ahold of her chin. “It’ll just make me hate him more.”

Would definitely become paranoid later on as Rhaenyra has kids because well… Jaehaera increasingly becomes more attached to her as she does. Not that Alicent’s children don’t get enough attention as is. Jaehaera spoils every single one of them. But Alicent doesn’t see it like that, so what does she do? Talks shit.

She’ll start sneaking in comments or rumors of Rhaenyra’s children’s the obvious hair color difference, and other features. How they’re “growing in to very clad, dark handsome boys” and how she “adores their curly brown hair”.

Then, on top of it all is— she thinks she’s getting away with it at first because Jaehaera will laugh occasionally and say something back. Soon she becomes unaware of the warning stares being sent her way. Her growing audacity eventually leads to a more intense reaction after she questions their birthright.

“I’m not sure if they would be given the thrown that easily.” She’d say calmly with a soft smile while pouring Jaehaera a drink.

She’s hear the princess hum and ask, “Why’s that?”

“Oh you know, their features are rathe strange for a Targaryen. Some might question if they are truly—,”

Alicent would be cut off quickly, and the bottle of wine would have slipped through her hands from shock and broke into pieces by their feet if it weren’t for Jaehaera’s quick hand. With one hand setting the bottle aside, the other held Alicent’s jaw firm, making it so she couldn’t talk, yet it would not leave a bruise on her skin.

Jaehaera’s were practically predatory as they glared into Alicent’s. And as she leaned closer to the woman’s face, Alicent couldn’t help but gasp at the proximity.

“Don’t start acting like your father Ali. It doesn’t suit you.” Jaehaera would whisper firmly, pulling away only to keep a burning gaze. “And if you ever say something like that again around me, I promise you, I will kill him.”

After her hand leaves her mouth, Alicent would rub the tender skin, weak in the knees and almost desperate for it to return. “Why?” She’s ask in a whisper.

Tilting her head to the side, Jaehaera’s expression softened and she caressed her cheek. “Because he would have killed something I care for. And I cannot allow that.”

Otto

He’s a petty bitch.

Would not know what the fuck to do when it comes to Jaehaera.

Would also try really hard to spread rumors about her under the kings radar. Probably called her a homophobic slur at some point and made a backhand comment about her being a woman. We all know it’s true.

He’s well aware that she hates him after Alicent marries Viserys. Would for sure get tortured by Daemons antics even more because of Jaehaera’s permission.

Honestly he’s just fucked, so he’s constantly trying to find a way to keep himself in the good graces of the king, so Jaehaera won’t kill him.

Also another reason why he’d push Aegon to succeed the thrown— also also another reason why the greens pull this shit while she’s gone on her voyages and travels. He knows he wouldn’t be able to get away with it otherwise.

Sir Criston

Another petty bitch.

Jaehaera finds him annoying after a while. She gave him a little sympathy at first because of the whole Rhaenyra brothel incident, but she’d always choose Rhaenyra.

Lightens up around Alicent because she likes her. But she’ll roast the shit out of him at any time. Unprovoked.

And if he really pisses her off best believe she’s threaten him (and let Daemon loose).

“I gave you the position in the kings guard, I could easily take it away. Even if it hurt Ali’s feelings for a while. She could never stay mad at me. She’d forget you in a heartbeat.”

Sir Harwin

Homies Fr

These two would just make a bunch of dirty jokes, cursing like sailors, and spar.

Canon that they would call each other bad worms as pet names:

“Good morning my little bitch how are you?”- Jaehaera greeting him in the mornings for training.

“Hey arsehole! You owe me one!” - Harwin after covering up for her to go sneak off with a lady/lord and/or when he’d lie about seeing Daemon first in the nighttime competitions.

Causal greetings or hellos: “Hello there cunt!” “Ahhh there’s my favorite little shit!”

Both were definitely into each other some point but it was a fleeting crush. He fell in love with Rhaenyra, she loved him, so Jaehaera loved them and that they were happy.

Harwin along with Laenor we’re her personality wingmen and cheerleaders.

He’d cover/lie for her in a heart beat. And he has soooo much respect for her. In another life they’d probably be siblings.

Laenor

I’ll say it again for the people in the back: Laenor is Jaehaera’s cheerleader.

If they had the word bestie back then, best believe he’d be like: “GO BESTIE, GO!!!”

Ton of gay jokes, but also would comfort each other being of society and internal homophobia because people fucking suck. (I’m looking at you Otto)

Definitely have seen each other naked, probably drunk or honestly skinny dipping. Also— because they’re constantly covering for each other so they can… Y’know… they’ve probably stood guard for each other at some point. So I can definitely see Laenor or her just opening the door once as the other and whoever they’re with is mid fucking, and be like: “can you hurry up Rhaenyra (or some other person) is looking for you?”

And if Laenor ever finished quickly, Jaehaera would say: “damn took you longer than I thought, ten whole seconds, I had my money on five.”

Oh and Laenor absolutely giggles or chokes on his drink anytime someone says anything remotely disrespectful toward Jaehaera or him because he knows this person is about to die.

Rhaenys and Corlys

Definition of second parents. Basically adopt Jaehaera whenever Viserys isn’t around.

Corlys is so proud of her when she gets older and leads a battalion and or her own voyages. He would also get teary eyes whenever he sees her helping Luke learn how to navigate and captain a ship, then blame it on “salt water that splashed into his eyes”.

He LOVES being a girl dad (excluding Laenor). Prizes Laena and Jaehaera. And even low key ships them because let’s be so for real… he knows. Later he’ll make jokes that it must be in the gene’s because both his kids came out fruity.

And Rhaenys and Corlys adore the relationship between her and their kids.

Rhaenys especially. She loves how safe and natural both her children are around her. They don’t have to pretend. She swears she’s trust her with both their lives because she knows Jaehaera would always protect them and vise versa. (Also ships Laena with her, and claims all the time that Daemon is just a third party.)

[missglaskin]

Random, but let’s say the reader, for whatever reason, had a child with someone else. How would the others react? Would they come to love the child as much as the reader? Or would they secretly loathe the child because the reader had them with someone else?

The entire family will get into a heated argument once they learn the reader is with a child. Alicent, Otto, Daemon, and Rhaenyra advise the reader to drink moon tea. The child, being a bastard, is what worries Alicent and Otto the most. Considering how much the reader wants children of her own, she'll argue against it, which will make the Velaryon family on her side.

Viserys will support the reader, even legalizing the child. He may demand the person who got her pregnant marry her. But before Viserys could get there, the man would probably already be dead as we all know how the family would react.

Rhaenys will ask Viserys to keep the reader with them on Driftmark for a while. She suspects the other's intentions and what they might do. Viserys may agree, but as soon as the reader is about to give birth, he will have her taken to the king's landing.

All the velaryon family adores the child. The child isn't born yet and Corlys is already spoiling them, buying them numerous toys. Rhaenys will be very involved in the kid's life and more so after Laena and Laenor are gone.

I can see Alicent eventually warming up to the child. On the other hand, Otto will keep his distance from the child.

Daemon and Rhaenyra will have to accept the child not only from Viserys, but from their own children as well. Your child will be treated gently by Baela and Rhaena. Same goes for Luke and Jace, but there's a bit of jealousy as if they fear your full attention will go to your child. Seeing how much her sons love your child will warm Rhaenyra up to them.

Out of Alicent's children, only Helaena accepts the child. Aegon already detests the child and despises the way his sister is overjoyed to see them. He even goes so far as to refer to the child as "it."

Aemond's definitely not taking the news well, that much is clear. Alicent is basically holding him back and ensuring the child is a hundred feet away from him.

In other words, this is Aemond and Aegon too:

[kckt88]

Blood & Cheese.

Summary:

In revenge for the death of Luke, assassins invade the Red Keep and tragedy soon follows.

Warning(s): Fear, Grief, Mourning, Blood, Devastation, Child Loss, Funeral, Burning of Bodies.

Word Count: 2250

Author Note: A companion piece to Wedding & Consummation/Arrival(s)/Mother & Father/Petitions & Final Tributes/The Hand, The King & The Dragon/Dragonstone/A Time for Grief/The Gullet & Harrenhal and the Rivers, but can be read as a one-shot.

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

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

With the acquisition of Storms End, the majority of the houses in the Reach were quick to pledge their support and bend the knee in favour of who they believed was the rightful heir to the Iron Throne.

Of course, Otto’s little campaign featuring Vaera didn’t hurt matters either.

The eldest daughter of Rhaenyra, and wife to Aemond supporting the rightful King was enough to convince some of the more fickle Lords and sway them to the Greens.

But the Warden of the North Lord Cregan Stark had honoured his father’s oath and bent the knee to Rhaenyra, and with Winterfell, the rest of the North were quick to follow. The Vale had obviously declared for Rhaenyra, as her mother was an Arryn and Lady Jayne would not turn against her kin.

There was also the Velaryon’s that were a constant matter of contention during the council meetings. Corlys had instructed his fleet to blockade the Gullet and seal it off, preventing any seaborn travel and trade.

Food was becoming scarcer by the day, and it was only a matter of time before the people of Kings Landing would rebel against their King. Something which Rhaenyra and those advising her were obviously counting on.

What’s worse, was the council had just received word that Daemon and his forces had taken Harrenhall. The odds were in Rhaenyra’s favour, and she knew it. The Greens had to act fast otherwise Rhaenyra would be successful in seizing the Iron Throne.

Aemond meanwhile was preoccupied with trying to find out what had happened to Lucerys, but no matter who he beseeched for information, none was forth coming. Somebody had to know something, but they were keeping quiet and it frustrated Aemond no end.

Yet listening to the council members arguing was beginning to grate on him. Every strategy they’d put forward had failed them. Rhaenyra was winning and it would only be a matter of time before she amassed enough support to invade Kings Landing and kill all those who conspired against her.

Aemond feared for the lives of his wife and their sons. He would gladly give his life for them, but what about after, would they be safe from Rhaenyra’s wrath or Daemon’s for that matter.

The Rogue Prince was proving himself a formidable foe, one that garnered respect and fear. Clearly Rhaenyra’s most valuable asset, the day she’d dispatched Laenor Velaryon, and married Daemon was the best strategic move she could have made.

Aemond couldn’t help but think of Vaera in that moment, his sweet wife. She had truly blessed his life; she’d given him two beautiful sons and gods willing she would grant him more.

Aemond didn’t know if he wanted to be a father, especially since his own hadn’t been any kind of father to his children except his beloved Rhaenyra. But Aemon and Rhaegar were everything to him, the love he felt was boundless. He couldn’t wait until his boys got older, he could train them in the ways of the sword, educate them in the history of House Targaryen and stand proud as they mount their dragons Brightfyre and Valaerys for the first time.

Suddenly a frenzied squire burst into the council chambers.

“Apologise Your Grace. But the nursery. T-The children”

Aemond was instantly on his feet, the feeling of terror turning his blood cold as he raced towards the nursery with Aegon and the Kings guard following close behind.

“DADDY” shouted Rhaegar.

Aemond desperately kicked at the door as hard as he could. The screams of Vaera, his mother and sister could be heard echoing down the corridor.

“PLEASE. NO. KILL ME. I BEG YOU” screamed Vaera.

Aemond could hear Rhaegar screaming hysterically as he continued to kick the locked door.

“NO. NOT HIM” shrieked Helaena.

“H-Helaena” exclaimed Aegon.

“DADDY. WHERE ARE YOU?” shouted Rhaegar frantically.

“Daddy’s here. I’m coming” replied Aemond desperately.

“NO”

Suddenly the screams stopped and there was only silence.

Aemond looked over at Aegon who’s face had gone awfully pale.

“TOGETHER” shouted Aemond as Aegon gave a sharp nod.

Aemond and Aegon gave the wooden door one last kick, the wood splintering as it burst off its hinges.

As soon as the door gave way, nothing could have prepared Aemond for the sight that greeted him.

Alicent was huddled in the corner, desperately clutching Rhaegar, Maelor and Jaehaera. Her eyes red rimmed and wide with shock.

The blood, there was so much blood on the floor. Flowing in every direction.

Time seemed to slow down as Aemond caught sight of his beloved wife sitting on the floor, her body rocking back and forth.

Aemond collapsed to his knees beside Vaera and screamed as he saw what his wife held in her arms.

The lifeless bloodied body of their son.

Aemon’s once bright amethyst eyes were now devoid of life, his tiny neck split open to the bone.

“V-Vaera” cried Aemond as he reached for his wife.

“Our boy. They took our boy” wailed Vaera as she clutched Aemon’s body.

“JAEHAERYS” screamed Aegon as he collapsed to the floor beside Helaena who was weeping silently as she held the body of their son against her.

“T-They came through the wall” whispered Alicent.

“What?” gasped Aegon.

“We-We couldn’t stop them. T-They killed the boys” sobbed Alicent.

Aemond’s head snapped towards the gap in the stone wall and without a second thought he withdrew his sword and took off down the passageway with Ser Criston following close behind.

How long had it been? Seconds. Minutes. Hours.

Vaera had lost all comprehension of time, as she held the body of her son against her.

The sounds of muffled voices never registering as they passed by like the wind.

Vaera refused to let go of Aemon, she held him close, her lips pressed to his cold forehead.

“V-Vaera” whispered Aemond as he crouched down in front of her.

When had he returned?

“He needs his blanket. He’s cold” muttered Vaera as she rocked back and forth.

“We’ll get him one” replied Aemond, his hands shaking.

“Blue”.

“W-What?” asked Aemond.

“He doesn’t like green. He likes blue” whispered Vaera closing her eyes.

“Ok, I’ll make sure he gets his blue blanket”.

An unknown amount of time seemed to pass before a blue blanket was slowly handed to Aemond.

“I’ve got his blanket” said Aemond softly.

“C-Can you wrap him up. You always did it better than me” murmured Vaera.

Aemond nodded slowly and unfurled the blanket. He held out his hands, waiting for Vaera to let him take Aemon.

“I-I don’t want to let him go”.

“I-I know” replied Aemond.

Vaera placed a gentle kiss on Aemon’s forehead before she passed him to his father.

Aemond couldn’t help the sob that escaped him as he took Aemon in his arms, his sweet little boy was really gone.

After placing a kiss on his little boys forehead. Aemond gently placed him on his blanket and wrapped him up. Taking extra care to make sure it was done the way Aemon liked.

“W-We need to let the silent sisters prepare him” whispered Aemond.

“C-Can you take him” replied Vaera.

“Yes” said Aemond softly as he clutched his sons body in his arms and rose from the ground.

As he carried his son’s body, Aemond couldn’t help but notice how light he seemed. Such a tiny little thing, now gone from this world.

Aemond tightened his grip on his son’s body as he walked wordlessly through the corridors. Maids and servants alike silently bowing their heads in respect for the fallen Prince.

Vaera watched as the silent sisters prepared and wrapped Aemon’s body.

“N-Not his head. H-He doesn’t like the dark” cried Vaera desperately.

The silent sisters obeyed and left Aemon’s head free of the wrappings, once they were finished, they bowed respectfully and left Vaera and Aemond alone with their son.

“M-My boy. My sweet boy” sobbed Vaera as her bloodstained hands reached forward and she fell to her knees in front of Aemon’s body.

Aemond moved to sit behind Vaera, and he pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around his wife’s chest, holding her tightly and keeping her grounded while she cried.

“H-He’s gone. Our sweet boy” gasped Vaera between the sobs that wracked her chest uncontrollably. So uncontrollably that Vaera could no longer speak at all. Could do nothing but cry, face dripping tears and snot whiles she struggled to breathe, clinging to her husband like her life depended on it.

Long minutes passed, stretching on into an hour. Longer. How long, Aemond didn’t know. All he knew was that his wife never stopped clinging to him. Never loosened her grip. Even when Aemond started sobbing himself, their shared overwhelming pain near unbearable as they mourned the loss of their son.

The entirety of the Red Keep had been put on high alert, no one in and no one out unless it was absolutely necessary.

The goons that had murdered the Princes had been apprehended by Ser Criston and Aemond in their attempt to flee and were now languishing in the black cells.

Aegon had demanded that they be tortured for information, and despite their initial stubbornness both Blood and Cheese began to crack as the torture intensified.

They named Daemon as the one who had arranged for the assassination of both the young Princes, in revenge for the deaths of Visenya and Lucerys.

It was claimed that the news of Viserys death and Aegon usuring the Throne had sent Rhaenyra into early labours and after hours of agonizing pain, she had delivered a stillborn deformed half human half dragon monstrosity named Visenya and after the death of Lucerys, Rhaenyra had gone mad with grief and ordered Daemon seek retribution for her fallen children.

Vaera and Helaena had barely spoke a word since Aemon and Jaehaerys had died. Both mothers lost to their grief.

Whilst Alicent took to caring for Jaehaera and Maelor. Vaera wouldn’t let Rhaegar out of her sight and would scream like a banshee if anyone dared to try.

Rhaegar was also suffering in the wake of his twins death. He had nightmares and would only sleep if he was sandwiched between Aemond and Vaera. During the day, he would hover around his mother, clinging to her skirts as she sat staring into space.

 Even though he was grieving for his son and nephew, Aemond had to remain strong, yet inside he was a wreck. He kept waking in the night to ensure that Rhaegar was still breathing, and taking care of Vaera was immensely difficult.

He had to force her to eat and drink, he even had to force her to use the toilet and bathe. It broke his heart to see his once bright wife, withering away into nothing and Helaena wasn’t any better.

It turned out that she had been forced to chose between Jaehaerys and Maelor, and in her desperation she had chosen Maelor only for Blood to slit Jaehaerys’ throat instead and now she couldn’t bring herself to look at any of her children.

The funerals for Jaehaerys and Aemon were a sombre affair.

Otto had wanted to show the people of Kings Landing the work of ‘Rhaenyra the cruel’ but Aemond knew it was not only in poor taste when the people were without food and starving but neither Vaera nor Helaena would manage it.

So, the funerals were as private as they could be. Although whispers of ‘Rhaenyra the cruel’ were heard across the realm. The ruthless Black Queen who had her own grandson and nephew murdered in order to secure her own claim to the Iron Throne.

As Vaera wouldn’t allow Rhaegar out of her sight, the boy attended the funeral of his brother and cousin. Tears silently running down his pale cheeks as he gazed at the body of his lost twin.

Aemond’s heart had been in his mouth when his sweet Rhaegar requested to say goodbye to his brother.

So, Aemond lifted his son into his arms and took him over to the funeral pyre.

“Geros ilas lēkia” whispered Rhaegar (Goodbye brother).

Aemond squeezed his eye shut at the sound of Rhaegar’s sweet voice.

“Avy jorrāelan” said Rhaegar sweetly (I love you).

Rhaegar suddenly lurched forward and gently placed his stuffed dragon teddy on his brother’s wrapped body.

“So, you’re not alone” muttered Rhaegar as he leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss on his brother’s forehead.

“Come on sweet boy” said Aemond as he carried Rhaegar back to his mother.

Off in the distance where Vhagar nested, Aemond could hear the sorrowful cries of a hatchling dragon.

Aemon’s dragon Brightfyre had been devastated by his bonded riders death and spent days screeching and shrieking before he too succumbed to the grief and now spent his days coiled with Valaerys or Vhagar.

It was decided that Cannibal would burn Aemon and Sunfyre would burn Jaehaerys.

All through the funeral ceremony, Vaera hadn’t left Aemond’s side. Her fingers entwined with his as the High Septon performed the proper funeral rights.

When it came time for Cannibal to burn Aemon, there was a moment where Aemond didn’t think Vaera would be able to give the necessary command.

But after a few moments of silence.

“Dr-Dracarys” said Vaera loudly.

Aemond tightened his grip on Vaera’s hand as he felt her shaking.

“Dracarys” urged Aegon.

Both dragons let out a mournful noise before their maws opened and the flames enveloped both Princes bodies.

[dirtytransmasc]

Yes, she decided. The moment she continued to go in his chamber, she could advice him to wed laena instead of trying to have a relationship with him, she could have remember him of his duty. She had a choice as everyone has

clearly logic is something that will not reach you no matter what I say but let's try again shall we.

first off, Viserys married for pleasure, not power or political gain. he knew his duties he knew what was best and had no interest. he married Alicent because that's what he wanted. it would be insanely inappropriate for a girl to advise a king on political matters AND it should not be the job of a 14 year old child to tell a king what he should be doing.

second off, she had a father to please, cause again, to reiterate, she was his daughter and she had a duty to him and her house. this was not a duty she wanted, but she didn't have a choice. she was young but se wasn't stupid she knew what her father expected of her, and if word got back from Viserys that she was actively advising him to marry someone else, she would then not only bring disobeying her father but going against him.

thirdly, and more minorly, "she should have pushed him to marry laena" isn't the gotcha you think it is. laena was even younger than her, and even if it was politically expected of him, still fucking gross.

lastly, cause I apparently can't stress this enough, SHE DIDNT HAVE A CHOICE, plain and simple. she had no agency, she had no power, she had no out, she was at the mercy of her father, she had to obey him, she had to do what he said, even if it meant walking herself to slaughter. once she met with the king, he took a liking to her and DEMANDED her presence, he the DEMANDED her hand. again, there was no point she could have said no. she couldn't say no to her father, she couldn't advise the king (he barely tolerated it when she was literally the queen, let alone if she had just been some girl entertaining him in his chambers), she couldn't deny the king of anything, she didn't have a choice.

she was 14 and scared, 14 and trying to survive, 14 and trying to please her father, 14 and sent to a man 3 times her age's chambers, 14 and lusted after by the king, 14 and knowing of her place in the world and what was expected of her. like every other woman in their history, she couldn't escape, she couldn't, there's no plainer way to say it. she faced her duty with poise and a stiff lip, cause that's what you had to do, but she was just a child.

you can't expect her to have been some radical icon, there were none, women who went against their station in life were punished or killed or put into god awful betrothals to lessen the shame brought to her family. she was a nobleman's daughter, she had a house to bring honor to. she did the heartbreaking thing of giving up, for the benefit of her father and house, doesn't mean she wanted it, doesn't mean it was ok, doesn't mean she isn't deserving of pity. giving in to your duty =/= wanting it.

"she had a choice as everyone has" she had a choice every woman has; accept it with grace, be forced into it, or damn herself to a fate much worse (and that's being generous, most didn't even have that many choices). it's the men who had choices, Otto offered his daughter up, he didn't have to, he had no obligation and nothing to lose if he didn't. Viserys had every choice, he could have married whoever he wanted, he could have denied her the second she entered his chambers. the men in her life had every choice to change her fate, yet they didn't take it, and you would rather blame her over them?

and listen, I know your set in your mindset of victim blaming a child bride who was raped until her husband didn't have the health or stamina to keep it up, and that you'll choose to blame her over the men in her life who damned her to such a fate. nothing I say will ever convince you, cause you clearly hate her past where logic will reach. you can keep sending asks with your terrible takes that have no backing or logic and actively ignore the political and societal state of the times and what it means for her as a young noble girl, and I'll keep answering them cause I have nothing better to do and I'll defend my girl to the grave.

[darklinaforever]

When people talk about the fact that Aegon II in HOTD has good people to advise him I want to laugh... Alicent showed his political incompetence against Rhaenyra in episode 6 (And who is so basically incompetent that she publicly tries to attack Lucerys in episode 7 and that she manages to be led around by Larys... What a fucking joke) and Otto also saw his incompetence demonstrated in episode 9, this time by Mysaria. Criston Cole never fought in a fucking war and stuck to tournaments. Then we have Larys, having committed the worst crime in Westeros, that of killing members of his family, so essentially an assassin with a foot fetish (although at least he knows how to do his job as an assassin I suppose ?). Yes ! What good, competent people indeed... Not to mention this stupid excuse about the fact that they would be better for the people ? People are still forgetting Mysaria in episode 9 to prove that it's false, and essentially that the Greens brought war to the country because they wanted to steal power that didn't belong to them. But they are better for the people than the Targaryen family having been full of very good leaders for Westeros over the generations ? Yes, that’s it, my eye yes... And the Greens are just as bad politically in Fire and Blood.

[tavarillasgalen]

Think about 'A Man Called Otto' and how predictable is automatically classified as a negative. When... It's really not. Yes, you know from the start that this is going to be a grumpy, depressed man learning how to open up again as people show him love and kindness. What matters is the execution.

It can be beyond comforting to know precisely the beats a story is going to hit, how it's going to go. And then just see how it does it and what other elements it incorporates. When you want to escape and be comforted, a predictable story can be the best type of story that there is.

I cried so many times. The trailer seems like it gives it all away - it doesn't. I really liked how it showed that suicidal ideation isn't something that just goes away. I really liked how they showed it takes other people reaching out to you and trying to show their care and love to start to feel like maybe you do matter. I really liked how it dealt with depression, suicidal ideation, how seniors are treated, and more.

I loved Marisol. I loved the neighborhood community. I loved how they had Otto be so accepting of others, because no, racism, sexism, queerphobia, etc, are not just classifiers of old people.

The only thing I question is that they showed 4 different suicide attempts. I get it, and I personally didn't have an issue with it, but I know from a psychological standpoint, that's generally advised against. I feel like they should have put a warning at the front, so people who are triggered by that or who have ideations could prepare.

Just all in all... I cried so many times. I'm not really a movie person, but this was 10/10 for me. A wonderful movie to start off the year with. I want to get it on DVD when it comes out and watch it over and over.

[justanoasisimagines]

Mixed Preference - You have a child from a previous relationship

This preference contains; Sandor Clegane, Captain John Price, Nestor Octeva, Troy Otto, Aemond Targaryen, Victor Zsasz, Severus Snape, Jerry, John Dorie, Abraham Ford, Harwin Strong, Lambert, Steve Rigers, Phillip Graves, Tormund Giantsbane, Remus Lupin, Jaskier, Eddie Munson, Viktor Krum, Rick O'Connell

Requests are open! Credit to @cafekitsune for the divider and the banner.

Sandor Clegane; Sandor's skeptical at first. He doesn't know how to be around a child. He barely knows how to be around you. However, as his feelings grow towards you, he realizes it's not just you. It's your child as well. He's fiercely protective over the two of you. He's not no problem killing anyone who gives you any trouble.

Captain John Price; John already knows you have a child before you get together. It doesn't bother him. Everyone has a past, himself included. He's also aware when the two of you get serious he has a lot to learn. He's willing to do that. Also, he quite likes the idea of coming home to you and your child. He'll slip into a role the child wants, it's their call.

Nestor Octeva; Nestor doesn't mind if you have a child. It doesn't make a difference to him. He's still crazy about you. He's also going to do everything to keep you safe. Nestor will always listen to you regarding your child. You're in control of when the two of them meet. What he can and not do, especially initially. He's crazy about you so he's going to love your child.

Troy Otto; Troy loves knowing you have a child. He likes the idea of creating his own family. Something he can love and protect. Something of his own that his father can't take. He's going to want to teach your child survival skills. He's going to take them to help him with chores. Creating a bond with your child is vital to Troy. He wants to create a family unit and so he needs that bond with both of you.

Aemond Targaryen; Aemond knows what it's like to be neglected by his father. He knows the toll it can take on someone. The first thing he'd do was threaten the child's father, so he was out of the picture entirely. The child does not need him now. Aemond would then become the father he'd always wished he had.

Victor Zsasz; Victor is nervous when he finds out you have a child. He's never been around children much before. He doesn't know how to behave around them, or how to interact with them. He has quite a few conversations about it with you because he doesn't want to mess it up. You are important to him and the child is important to you. Naturally, he'll wing it for the most part.

Severus Snape; Severus doesn't realize how much he needs you and your child. It's able to provide him with a less lonely life. A home life Severus never believed he would deserve. You provide him with love and safety, a place to escape away from his daily life. He loves you and your child with every fiber of his being and eventually considers the child his own.

Jerry; Jerry adores your child from the moment they meet. It doesn't bother him. He adores children. He'll follow your lead, but the second they meet invested in each other. Soon the three of you will be doing things together all the time.

John Dorie; John's a little nervous when he finds out you have a child. John's behavior doesn't change. He's a little wary but he's interacted with children before. What if your child doesn't like him? Would that affect the relationship between the two of you? Until the initial first meeting, John's worried.

Abraham Ford; Abrham's had kids, he couldn't help but think about his children. Abraham sees your children as a second chance. A chance to protect and provide. Abraham would make every opportunity count. He's going to love you both with his whole heart. He has a second chance and he's not going to let anyone take it from him.

Harwin Strong; Everyone would advise against courting you. However, Harwin does not listen to them. He refuses to. He will court you and get to know your child. When he eventually asks for your hand, he treats your child as if they're his. Harwin makes an excellent step-parent.

Lambert; Lambert doesn't know how to be around children. Anytime he's interacted seen children, they've usually run from him. Terrified of stories they've been told by their parents or grandparents. Lambert is stunned when he meets your child. From the moment they meet, they don't fear him. Instead, they ask him questions with great interest. Lambert is suddenly not as concerned.

Steve Rogers; It doesn't bother Steve. He adores children. He'd always wanted children. So he hopes he can create a family unit with you. Steve takes it upon himself to read all the books he can find on children and babies. He's smitten with you, so he's going to learn and do everything he can.

Phillip Graves; Phillip is skeptical at first. He knows nothing about children. However, he's sweet on you, so he's going to make this work. A child complicates things but Phillip is in this for the long haul. His patience is tested at times, but Phillip is relentless and he never backs down from a challenge.

Tormund Giantsbane; Tormund doesn't care if you have one child or many. It doesn't make a difference to Tormund. He's enthusiastic about it. he's going to teach your child everything he knows. He's going to protect them and take them everywhere. Eventually, no one realizes the child is not biologically his.

Remus Lupin; Remus finds children remarkable. They show a relentlessness adults rarely have. He doesn't mind you have a child from a previous relationship. His feelings aren't going to change for you. They deepened because he sees a new side to you, one he admires. However, Remus does worry your child will fear him when they learn about his condition.

Jaskier; Jaskier doesn't have any experience with children. He doesn't know how to keep them entertained. He's awkward and rigid around you. He questions if perhaps he's not the right person for you. However, something changes in Jaskier and one day you find him teaching your child to play the lute.

Eddie Munson; Eddie adores your child from the moment they meet. They're a little version of you so how could he not adore them? Wayne is a little more realistic as he warns him of the undertaking, yet despite this, Eddie is still not phased. At the end of the day, Wayne gave him a chance, so why would he not do the same for your child?

Viktor Krum; Viktor is a man of honor. When he finds out you have a child, he makes sure he is serious about you before you introduce him to them. Even then he is respectful of your wishes. It gets to the point when he can't imagine living a life without you both. He looks forward to a future with both of you in it.

Rick O'Connell; Rick is slightly envious that someone's had a child with you first. However, in all seriousness, it doesn't change anything. He still believes you are perfect. When he brings you things, he'll bring you things for your child. He's a gentleman in his unique way, slightly rough around the edges but he's going to look after the both of you.