#otto would be mortified

[syndrossi]

WAIT WAIT WAIT VISERYS PUT THE CANDLE IN A SEPT STORE ROOM

Does the candle of doom have anything to do with why Rhaegar can't hear the magical things when Alicent takes him to the sept!?

(Why does "the warlock, with a candle, in the sept" sound like the terrible answer to a game of ASOIAF-themed Clue.)

What does the dragonglass candle have to do with what Rhaegar is hearing (or not), indeed...

[barbieaemond]

The river’s undertow|teaser

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tully!reader

Warnings: dark(ish) Aemond, angst, misogyny, possessive behaviour, obsession, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex, p in v, praise kink, breeding kink, overstimulation, Aemond sucks at courting, Daeron saves the day

Based on this anon request: Aemond (or dark!Aemond) who, by Otto's bidding, gets reader to fall in love with him to form an alliance with her house through marriage. But he ends up falling hard for her! Her love language is physical touch, and Aemond is the most touch starved man in the whole of Westeros. A 'she fell first, he fell harder' type of thing.

Title comes from the song Persephone by Tamino

Lil sneak peek

He was so occupied with cursing the Gods for sending him there to play the pawn of his grandsire that he did not even realise he was not alone. And so, the haughty Prince Aemond Targaryen found himself flinching when a small, delicate voice came from behind him.

“My Prince.”

He turned sharply and saw a young lady clad in light blue, greeting him with a long curtsy.

“We were not expecting you.” she said raising her eyes at him for just a moment “but it’s certainly an honour to have you here in Riverrun.”

She spoke very softly, as if afraid of her own voice, and Aemond was at a loss for words for a moment, running his eye over her figure. She was small in stature, almost subdued, so much so that he had not heard her coming.

He cleared his throat, straightened his back and raised his chin haughtily. "I need to speak to Lord Grover."

"Of course, your Grace." She said with her head down, moving a single step before he spoke again in clear annoyance, hissing in fact. "I'm not finished."

He sighed loudly at the inconvenience of even having to explain to these savages that one does not leave the presence of a Prince without his consent.

“Apologies, your Grace.” She muttered mortified and, again, in a barely audible tone of voice.

“Speak up, girl. I’m half blind, not deaf.” he nothing but spat, feeling his spirits worsen steeply as the soaked clothes clung to him and the empty socket played hammer on his nerves. “I need a room to clean up. And I demand to meet Lady Tully along with the Lord Paramount.”

“Yes, my Prince. If you would follow me, I will show you to a room upstairs. And...you already met Lady Tully. She’s speaking to you.”

Aemond blinked for a moment before his eye slowly dropped to her entire figure. So, there she was. His future wife.

She was a pretty little thing, a gentle beauty, delicate, just like her voice. He didn't know how such delicacy would fit his sharp edges and frankly, he didn't care. He just had to fuck her and put a child in her womb before the end of the year. In light of that, at least she had a pretty face.

But first, he had to play the part. He had to make her cheeks flush.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Curse Of Womanhood

Daemon's Version

It's simple really. Your husband wronged a witch and insulted her womanhood, and now he was cursed to bleed every moon with you.

Daemon Targaryen x Reader | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, cursed fem!daemon, mentions of miscarriage/menstruation, men being men/misogyny/objectifying, Otto 'that's kinda hot' Hightower, crack fic, i hate my husband club member!reader, typos, etc.

A/N: my brain is fried so have some fried rice aka this fic. also idk at what time this would be set in canon so were just going to roll with it ok? ok.

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @thebullship @sa3losa

The scream that left my mouth was immediately muffled by a hand covering it and what I recognized to be a string of High Valyrian curses.

My eyes widened as I looked at the woman. Her brows were furrowed, her jaw was clenched, her hair was undone, and she was clad in nothing but a loose dress shirt.

"It's me!" she whisper-yells, "you have to help me."

I yank her hand away and we begin to wrestle on the sheets. Her silver hair flies around, her bare thighs clash against mine. We struggle against each other for a moment, but I eventually manage to overpower her and subdue her by pushing her on her belly, ripping her arms behind her back.

I blow hair out of my face, "you ought to know I wrestle with my husband all the time."

"I am your husband!"

I scoff and scowl, "ahhhh. So this is his fucking idea. He sent a whore to keep me company while he's away."

The woman screams my name and demands to be released.

She whimpers when I pull her arms back forcefully, "watch your tongue, wench. My title is princess."

"Look at my scars!" she strangles out with a pained voice, "it's the same fucking scars I had as a man. Take my shirt off and-"

"Shut up!" I raise my brows in revulsion and disbelief, "GUARDS!"

She begins to sputter High Valyrian again and it makes me turn to her. I pull tight at her arms and she whines; her eyes begin to water.

"I took your maidenhead in your childhood bedroom!" she muffles against the sheets.

My jaw drops. I am mortified.

"I marked your neck so that your father would give you to me!" she cries.

My stomach churns.

"You told me to bring you back a sword when I returned!" she hisses, "and I said I'd stuff my sword down your throat if you touched yourself while I was away."

I gasp and release her when she says this.

She groans and slowly unravels her arms, "fucking bitch."

I crawl back and watch the woman sit up. Her violet eyes were glassy as she rubs her arms. I stared at her, examining the lines on her face, the curve of her nose, the cut of her cheeks. My face begins to twist, "who are you?"

She ceases rubbing her arms when she turns to me. My stomach drops. I knew those eyes.

She suddenly lunges at me, shoving me down on the bed. She shoves herself between my legs and pushes me down. She pins my hands together overhead with one hand. She rips my nightgown up and huffs, "I should remind you of you place, stupid girl."

My heart races at her words.

She gasps when she touches herself between her thighs. In an instant, she releases me and slowly pulls her hand up. She is mortified. Her eyes widen at the sight of red on her fingers, "I'm- I'm bleeding."

She topples back on her bum then looks down at the sheets. A blot of red was stamped beneath her, blood was dripping down her thighs.

The horrified sound she makes horrifies me as well.

"I'm bleeding!" she turns to me in panic.

I sit up and watch her cheeks get soaked in tears. I am deeply unsettled by her reaction. I mutter, "it's alright. It's normal-"

"THAT FUCKING WITCH CURSED ME INTO THIS GODFORSAKEN BODY!" she snaps, shaking her hands erratically. "I should have killed her," she sniffles roughly, "I shouldn't have spared her. She will pay for this!"

I flinch when she begins to wail and scream.

"Keep it down!" I grab her in panic.

"HOW CAN WHEN I HAVE A CUNT THAT'S BLEEDING!"

I grab her face and make her look at me, "you made no issue when my cunt was bleeding."

She freezes at the words. She looks at me and thinks. She eyes me with disdain, with anger, with offence, "that's different."

"How is that different?"

"You lost a child."

I rip away from her, feeling my heart leap into my throat. It really was him. No one but Daemon and I knew this. I whisper, "Daemon?"

She tenses then melts into defeat. She falls into me, forehead crashing onto my shoulder. I whimper as I pull her in for a hug. She reluctantly embraces me back.

"Daemon," I mutter.

"It's me," she snakes her arms around my form, "ziry iksos nyke, ñuha jorrāelagon." It's me, my love.

"Oh, my prince," I pull her in, "what have you done to yourself?"

Her arms tighten, "I am your prince. Please believe me."

I nod and brush her hair, "I believe you."

She nuzzles her face into my neck and begins to cry. We sink down onto the cushions and she finds herself between my legs again.

"What did you do to the witch, Daemon?"

She growls and sniffles, "I burned that cunt's village to the ground and made her watch."

"By the Seven, Daemon!" I try to look at her. She refuses to let me pull away.

"I'll burn her next."

"No!" I push her off, "we need to find her and make her undo her curse."

Daemon rips away and looks at me with bloodshot eyes. I feel uneasy with how she looked. There were traces of my husband, certainly, but it was so familiar yet so foreign. I mutter, "I will have Ser Harwin take us to wher-"

"Harwin?" she exclaims, "what need have we of that Strong moron? I will take us both to-"

"We are two women!" I grab her face, "two princesses," I raise a brow, "I will come with you to ensure your temper does not get the best of you, and Harwin will be there to ensure no one gets any ideas with us."

After nearly an hour of arguing, Daemon remembers I am the wife in this relationship and always get my way in the end.

All at once, we go to Harwin's quarters and wake him. I had asked my handmaiden for a dress and made Daemon wear it. Daemon fussed over how itchy it was, saying I should have just gotten one of my dresses for her, and how I didn't have to wrap her hair behind a headscarf. I told her to shut up and follow through with my precautions or else be a woman forever.

Harwin, Seven bless him, asked no questions other than where we had to go when I told him I needed an escort at that hour.

Daemon eyed him the entire way to the stables, declined his help when Harwin offered to help her up a horse, and rode between Harwin and I, unwilling to let me answer any of the questions he had, which, to be fair, were mostly about directions, and I did not know them at all.

To my horror, the moment we got there, the witch was waiting for us, grinning at the she-prince. Daemon was furious and lunged out of her horse, charging at the witch. Harwin immediately stopped Daemon when she very much tried to kill the sorcerer.

One thing led to another, the witch taunted Daemon, practically begging to be killed; Daemon got close to doing so, then the witch laughed and said her death would make the curse irreversible. Harwin managed to grab Dae-- Demi, my stupid handmaiden, and threw her over his shoulder.

I ended up doing the talking. As Harwin wrangled with blazing Demi, I begged the witch to fix my husband. She was moved by my desperation and devotion to my 'vile dragon of a husband'. She explained to me every curse had an expiration and Daemon's was on the next crescent moon. I paid her a hefty amount to convince her not to extend Daemon's curse.

Needless to say, Daemon was furious by how things ended.

That morning, I was met with a myriad of complaints and a wholehearted unwillingness from her-- from him, from my husband to comply with my plans to hide his identity. He didn't want to keep up appearances as a handmaiden and demanded to wear one of my dresses instead. The fool made me think of a way to make his idea plausible. I figured if we darkened his hair, I could pretend he-- she, gods, this was confusing, was a distant relative coming to visit.

For the most part it worked, no one questioned me about it, not even Ser Harwin, who was surely incredibly suspicious about Demi. But I knew him to be good at keeping secrets, which was why I always liked him. That, and well, he was rather strong. Daemon did not like that additional explanation when he asked why I trusted Harwin.

I knew the unquestioning nature most people had stemmed over the fact my word as princess could nary be questioned, but of course, there would be some that still questioned. And by some, I meant the Lord Hand, who would not let the sudden appearance of a distant relative of mine be left unnoted.

"Princess," Otto Hightower greets me as we cross each other's paths in the halls. I mask my annoyance over the encounter with a smile.

Daemon, who was standing beside me, squares up. I do my best to keep Otto's attention on me as I greet him back, but he rather instantly turns to Daemon, eyeing his dress, his dyed black hair, and his piercing violet eyes with far too much interest. Otto rakes my husband's form then nods, "my lady."

I hold back a face.

Daemon does not; his lips curl in disgust, "Hightower."

I shoot a glare at the woman. Daemon continues to try to burn Otto with his glare.

Otto looks at Daemon, top to bottom, with a raised brow, "I've not met many women of your stature. You are nearly as tall as I."

"I'm sure you've not met a lot of women in your lifetime."

"Daem-"I hiss but manage to stop myself. I turn to Otto, "pardon my cousin. She is not from here, and has learned to protect herself using her sharp-tongue."

Otto turns to me, "your cousin seems to be unaccustomed to the graces of King's Landing."

Daemon crosses his arms and sniggers. I cannot help but smack and eye him dirtily. Otto watches this closely. My husband turns to me, then back to Otto, "ah, yes. King's Landing is so unfamiliar to me. I fear I would get lost on my own."

Otto cannot help but rest his eyes on Daemon's chest, the exposed, soft flesh pushing up with how his arms were crossed. Daemon's face twitches when he notices it, then immediately unclasps his arms. He feels anger and embarrassment burn up his ears at the blatant ogling. Had the gaze been directed to his wife, he would have struck him, and yet the scrutiny on his she-body left him debilitated.

"The Keep is not that hard to navigate," Otto mutters, "if you ever lose your way, I am sure you will find many willing to help a lady such as yourself."

Daemon's insides burn, so he spits out the fire, "and would you ever help me, my lord?"

The level of disgust Daemon feels when he catches the subtle curve of Otto's lips is insurmountable. Lord Hand nods, "if you insist."

I cannot shake the chill that runs up my spine. I play it off by chuckling, "most generous of you, my lord. But I assure you, it will not come to that. I will not let my darling cousin out of my sight."

Otto turns to me, "a pity," he turns back to Daemon, "what was your name again?"

Daemon curses roughly in High Valyrian. It makes my heart leap into my mouth and I scramble to say, "Demi! Demi!"

"Demi," Otto tests the name on his tongue, "an uncommon name for an uncommon girl."

Daemon's eye twitches, "girl?"

"She is not from here!" I quip.

"As you've said once before, princess," Otto steps forward, "where are you from, Lady Demi?"

"Se trūmāje ripo hen nopāzma," Daemon steps forward. The deepest pit of hell.

I grab his arm, pulling him back. Unlike in his natural form, it was slightly easier to handle Daemon like this. He topples backward.

Otto tilts his head, "that's quite a name for a place. I've not heard it before."

My husband laughs, "trust me, my Lord-"

Otto and I are shocked at how Demi pats Otto's cheeks twice.

"-you'll find yourself going there soon enough."

I yank Daemon back again. Otto is stunned still in his spot. I quickly bid farewell to the Hand and reel us both out of that horrid conversation. I violently pinch the stupid woman beside me as we scurry down the halls.

[starogeorgina]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬

Pairing: Criston Cole x reader

Warnings: Swearing

1.01

The great hall was alive with the sound of fast-paced music, played by the kingdom's finest musicians. Torches flickered along the walls, casting dancing shadows across the ornate tapestries that adorned them.

Making your way through the crowd, you nod and say thanks to the lords and ladies who congratulate you, while your mind races with the thought of what urgent excuse you could come up with to leave your own wedding early. The news of the sudden wedding between King Viserys second-eldest daughter and Ser Gwayne Hightower, the brother of the queen, had spread like wildfire. A magnificent feast has been made, with the finest foods and wines from across the kingdoms being laid out on ornate golden platters. The scent of roasted meats and baked bread filled the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of freshly cut flowers. The walls are adorned with banners of House Targaryen and Hightower.

Salt in the wound.

With a cup of wine in hand, you manage to place yourself by the edge of the hall, on the outskirts of the crowd. Your gaze falls upon Rhaenyra; the sight of her elaborate red gown with the outlines of black dragons sewn into it takes your breath away. She looks utterly beautiful—a true Targaryen princess chosen by the gods themselves.

And in comparison, you felt invisible.

Your hair is meticulously braided and woven into an intricate crown atop your head, adorned with gleaming gold threads and shimmering gems. The luxurious white fabric drapes gracefully over your form, its skirt flowing outwards in a lavish cascade of emerald green that seems to move with a life of its own. The gown's intricate design features delicate embroidery and beading that shimmer in the candlelight, highlighting the regal bearing of the woman who wears it. The corseted bodice hugs your curves gently, accentuating your femininity without being overly revealing.

You hadn’t lived in Kings Landing for so long that you felt like an outsider. Saying goodbye to the loyal friends you had made over the years, along with the family unit you had built, was devastating.

A knight from the king's guard bows before you, “princess.”

“Ser Criston, isn’t it?”

“Ser Criston Cole.”

The knight glares at something behind you, and you’re mortified to see it was Ser Gwayne. You let the first glimpse of your real emotions show when you observe your new husband getting a little too handy with the lady he was dancing with. Ser Criston opens his mouth to say something, but a member of House Hightower approaches before he has the chance to say, “Congratulations, princess; this truly is a grand affair.”

“Thank you, Ser Hobert; I do hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Hopefully you will be blessed with another child soon, a male heir, just as Queen Alicent has been three times.”

Your nostrils flare as you take a large gulp of wine. Ser Criston locks eyes with you and clenches his jaw. It seems he didn’t appreciate the unwanted comments either. When you say nothing back, Ser Hobert swiftly leaves, spotting another member of his house and going to join them. It wasn’t just the added pressure of having another child that offended you; it was the complete disregard of Alicent’s daughter, Princess Helaena, who was just as important as your brothers.

“There is little good to say about Ser Hobert Hightower, princess,” the knight says. “Pay no mind to him.”

“I believe he has a tendency to overshare his thoughts. Earlier, he was saying, Otto's daughter holds the king's ear and cock, and now a Targaryen girl will take his son’s cock to produce more heirs House hightower.”

“You want me to kill him?”

Feeling an unstoppable smile pulling on your lips, you raise your cup to your mouth in an attempt to hide it. “It’s not often I turn down such an honorable offer,” you giggle. “But unfortunately, you would be a very busy man if you cut down every man who spoke about a woman as if they were broodmares.”

“I shall be at your beck and call from dusk till dawn, princess.”

His playful tone has a calming effect on you, helping you drown out the worries inside your head. You chew on your bottom lip, trying to think of something clever to say, but you’re overcome with excitement when you spot your uncle Daemon walking towards you. You smile at him brightly but become concerned when the frown on his face deepens.

In High Valyrian, he states, “I’ve told that Hightower cunt if he tries to insist on a bedding ceremony again, I’d have his head on a fucking pike by sunrise.”

You stare at him, speechless.

“My brother is a fool. He is so oblivious to the High Tower's blatant power grab that he’s allowed you to marry below your station. You are a princess, and he is a—”

“Uncle,” you cut him off when Daemon's voice became louder, attracting attention from others in the room. You kiss him on the cheek, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by the Hightowers. “We shall speak further about this in the morrow.”

—

Feeling your feet starting to throb from dancing for so long with Rhaenyra, you go and sit at an empty table. Once your legs are under the fabric, you lift your feet up in a very unladylike fashion.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself, princess.”

Knotting your fingers together, you look up at him. “In truth, I’d much rather be reading a bedtime story to Meera.” The small laugh he lets out makes you think the night doubts your sincerity. “You think I jest?”

“No, I believe you, princess,” he smiles. “Most brides would reveille in the attention.”

“I was never one for attention,” you say quietly.

Growing up, you were practically a ghost living in the shadows of Rhaenyra, but in truth, you enjoyed it. Your elder sister was confident, intelligent, rebellious, and confrontational. You always did as your father asked, and only after entering motherhood did you start sticking up for yourself. Life away from the Keep did wonders for you.

“It must be strange for you to return after all this time. Princess Rhaenyra speaks very highly of you.”

You glance over at your sister, who was dancing with a knight named Ser Harwin Strong, then back up Ser Criston. “I’m glad to hear that; I’ve missed her terribly living so far away. I just wish I had more time to settle in before…”

“Getting married.”

“Yes,” you say. “I’d never even met Ser Gwayne before today.”

“Well, he is a lucky man. I’m sure the king had many suitors to choose from.”

“Hmm,” your opinion on the matter of who you wished to marry meant very little to your father. “In the morrow, my father is going to pick up a personal sworn shield for me.”

Grinning, the knight leans in a little closer, saying, “Hopefully the king will make a better match.”

“Hopefully, Ser Criston.”

[adarkandmagicalforest]

An Irritation Ch 6

pairing: Otto Hightower/Original Female Character (Aella Targaryen, twin to Daemon)

warnings: cockwarming but make it hurt/comfort, smut, mood swings, unsexy lashing out

next: Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Epilogue

Aemma was a few months younger than Aella was, but it was difficult to tell - after the multiple pregnancies, both failed and not, had taken it's toll on the Queen, making her much slower and more strained than her sister by-law as she'd attempted to waddle away from the shocking seen. The princess though easily hurried after the Queen, the Hand only three steps behind her after he'd realized she hadn't kicked him away without reason.

"Aemma!" Aella called after the other woman once she realized with relief that she wasn't headed back to the dinner to immediately oust her to Viserys and the rest of the family.

But the Queen didn't acknowledge the call - she didn't say anything nor did she stop walking until they reached an open terrace where she immediately went to lean against the railing.

"Your Grace - " Otto attempted once they paused, his rasp touched with something tense.

Which became considerably worse when Aemma whirled on them, her eyes flashing as she threw her hand out at them in exasperation, her only word being, "No." 

"Sister, let me - " Aella 

"No." Aemma repeated firmly.

The Queen was a softer type of woman. She was not as Alysanne had been, who had given orders to men as confidently as Jaehaerys has, serving as a ruling Queen like that of the Conquerors. But it seemed as if Aemma had just been shocked into such a role, as her words now contained some hidden steel. It took several minutes for her to actually begin addressing them with more than just 'no.' And she began with Aella.

"You despise him." 

The princess wasn't sure what she could say to that. So she remained quiet.

But that seemed to suit Aemma fine, because she turned to the Hand then.

"And you. I've heard you rant about her and Daemon a hundred different times in a hundred different ways... Viserys says you once wanted them exiled to Dorne." 

Aella couldn't help it. She scoffed, glancing at Otto with her lips curled with bemusement. "Dorne?" She asked wryly.

The Queen immediately held a hand out, a wordless instruction to stop. Then, her eyes widened, and her small hand turned to a fist which she shook. "Daemon is going to kill him."

Aella swallowed. "He will not know." She replied.

"He will." Aemma said, making her guts churn uncomfortably. "If I tell Viserys he will tell Daemon, he will. And then - oh gods, he's going to kill you, Otto, and then he will force us to eat your body. I don't want to eat you - Aella I cannot eat him, what if he is gamy? I could not keep it down, and it would make me a cannibal! Oh - oh, but what if I do, what if the babe makes me begin to crave it, forcing me into a man-eating cannibal?!" The Queen exclaimed, looking more and more mortified the longer she spoke about this so called future she had just imagined.

"Perhaps we should discuss this at a - " Otto's words were stiff and disjointed, and he was standing as if a lance had been stuck down the back of his doublet. "At a later date." He completed the sentence dryly, his eyes looking between them with wariness.

"No, no, I cannot - " Aemma muttered in distress.

And then the sound of footsteps came, clicking against the stone of the terrace.

But to their luck, it was only little Rhaenyra, peering up at them from behind the loose curtains.

"What're you all doing out here?" She asked, her eyes full of curiosity.

"Nothing hatchling." Aella assured immediately, taking care to remain flippant. "We were just planning your nameday celebration." 

Rhaenyra's little blonde brows bobbed up her forehead before narrowing them, unimpressed at the lie. "I want a lemon cake the size of Cannibal then. Also, Father's wondering where you've gone." 

The Queen nodded her agreement and told her that they'd return promptly. It was only then did her niece left them did she look cautiously to the Aemma, whose alarm seemed to have subsided, at least for now. 

"Aemma?" She said slowly, now that the air had grown tenser with the other woman's silence.

"I'll say nothing." Her sister by-law finally said, reaching her hands down to press against her belly, round with child. "In fact - I never saw this. Any of it. I never saw either of you." She decided, turning to face the two of them with a decision in her expression. She rose one dainty hand, pointing it at them. "I'm going to the privy now - and when I return, none of us will ever speak of this again." 

"Yes, Your Grace." Otto replied, coarse and grave. He seemed to still be affected, he would not even look at her. He hadn't looked at her once since they had been seen.

Aella rubbed her palms together, attempting to stop the crawling chill from coming up over her arms. When her sister by-law looked at her, she found that couldn't quite speak yet, so she nodded instead, earnestly meeting Aemma's eye, hoping beyond reason that this would well and truly 'never be spoken of again'.

The two of them seemed to both be glued in place while Aemma left the terrace. They were there in silence, dead silence, as the flickering candles grew lower and the evening sky darker. Dinner would be done with soon.

And then, after several mountainous heartbeats rattled from within her ribcage, her dry lips parting as she forced herself to speak - speak anything. "Shall we continue where we left, Otto?" Was what came out.

The Hand though, did not appear in the mood for these words. In fact, this seemed to spark something in him, but not one for pleasure. He was incandescent now, and his very breath seemed to exude distaste.

She heard his steps but could not look at him. She only saw him vaguely, the shape of him and the color of his trousers.

"Have you lost your mind?" That voice demanded coldly.

Aella did not blanch. She did not. The princess took a half step forward, without thinking, to prove as such - but Otto took a large step away, as if revolted.

"Do you know what we have done?" He doubled down, low and deep. The evening was a spring one, but winter still whispered in the air. "What has just happened? Do you not understand the gravity that has taken its hold, what we both might face if Her Grace decides to speak of this?" With every word, he appeared to shake, though his words were quiet in his seething. But her throat had closed up, like a hand had reached up from her stomach and clenched down on it tight. So she stood there. His steps came back, but this time she wanted to back away.

"Our affair - this sin. This mistake could cost more than just your reputation, but my life could very well be forfeit! But a princess with the blood of the dragon could never hope to know such a thing, could she?" 

And then he turned away. He left her there. 

Her whole body seemed to be made of wood now. Wooden arms and wooden legs. A wooden head and wooden feet. If only she was on fire. She would be warmed then.

Aella was unsure of how long she was left alone - it must have only been minutes, because footsteps, short ones, from leather boots, came from her right. She could not see.

She thought maybe it would've been Viserys - he had been looking for them.

But it was not her brother's voice she heard.

"Was my Father horribly cruel to you, Princess?" Gwayne Hightower inquired, a hesitant smile in his voice.

Aella turned to look at him, reminding herself that she was not made of wood, no matter how her head felt on a dowel on her neck. 

"No more than usual, ser." She replied stiffly.

The knight bobbed his head shortly in a nod, straightening his back as he approached her boldly, stopping only a foot away from her. He wanted to touch her. He'd been eager to touch her from their first encounter, when he'd dropped to his knees and placed his tongue between her legs. "I'm sorry, anyway. He can be - well I'm sure you know. You've lived with him almost longer than I have."

"True." The princess said. She reached a cold hand up to her ivory hair. It felt too long. It clung to the back of her neck in a way that felt so uncomfortable. 

"So - What did he say?" Gwayne asked nosily, his voice nothing alike his Lord Fathers. He was boyish and arrogant and could be very obnoxious. She'd never be able to stand being married to him.

"How much he didn't want me to marry you." Aella half-lied softly. She needed - Daemon, Mother, Father - 

He touched her arm without leave, his hand encompassing her bicep lightly with his bare, warm hand. "Do not listen to him, Princess. I will marry who I decide. And if the King commands it, who is he to refuse your hand?" The lad then smirked - smirked? Could it be a smirk if his teeth were showing?

Gwayne's fingers gently squeezed her arm, one he meant to be comforting perhaps. It wasn't - but there was heat in his touch, and that was enough for her to slowly ask:

"Would you escort me back to my chambers, ser?"

/~/

The moment Otto stepped within the Tower, he knew he could not stay.

That most horrid flurry of emotions, violent and whirling and alarming had ruled him from the moment they had been caught until he'd seen the inside of his chamberdoor. It was once his boots touched the stone did the fury seemed to drop like a stone, as if expelled.

Lashing out at Aella had been - unworthy of him. 

He had been shaken after being caught. It had been lingering on the back of his mind, should they be seen it would have been a maid or serving girl. Easily paid or dismissed, he'd thought. But when it had been the Queen - 

Looking upon the encounter, Otto felt a deep rooted shame. Upon return to the memory he could now recognize Aella's increasing decline. She'd been merely uncomfortable at dinner, but once they had been seen? Every moment that passed drove her deeper and deeper within herself, her gaze stony and unseeing, just as she'd been when he'd found her resting on the Iron Throne. And he'd lashed out, snapped at her. She'd even stepped to him and he'd moved away... He'd called her a sin.

She enjoyed his fury most days. Aella would take pleasure in rising it up, toying and infuriating him with the simplest of smirks to her lips.

But this had not been that fury this had been wrong. He'd actions were poor and unseemly and they shamed him.

Otto turned back.

He went back to the terrace he'd left her in, not knowing if she would still be there. She was not. If she had been, he was certain he would not have been able to recover from the sight.

But it was empty, and the dining hall as well. 

So her chambers, he'd thought, swiftly turning away and ignoring the chirping of a maid whom he'd nearly bowed over with his quick turn. It had taken the good part of the day and evening to pull her from her reverie that day on the Throne. Her fires were burning low, she'd said. Then blood, she'd wanted. Otto had no idea of what to give her, how to soothe this strange melancholy that had cast itself over his lover. 

So he'd set the fires larger and he'd sat with her. For hours until the fires brought her back.

Aella's chambers were further away from the rest of the royal families - hers and Daemon's both. But with the strides he was taking, it did not take him long to reach her doors, not when the staff and maids, upon seeing the way he was storming through, were ducking out of his way. 

He didn't knock. It was unlocked.

The Hand took large steps inside and sent his eyes gazing across every surface, looking for that spot of pale hair and ivory skin. He found her - but Aella was not there alone. 

His son was seated there with her, touching her. Gwayne's lips were against her neck while his hands were pushed up her loosened silk shift, groping her pert breasts while she sat there still, her eyes closed. But Otto knew without knowing what was behind them. Because she was unnaturally placed. She was pale. She was doing nothing more than silently allowing his son to do as he wished. Her fire was not low, it was gone. He had extinguished her, he had wounded her and this was the result.

Otto's hand grasped the back of his son's neck harder than he'd intended. And he'd thrown him down on the floor harder too, than he'd meant to. 

Though the sound had been satisfying. 

"What - " He said dangerously to his boy, staring down at him as if he could vanish him from the very room with look alone. "Do you think you are doing?" 

"Father." Gwayne gasped, clearly shocked. His clothes were in a disarray and his pupils blown. "I was - "

"I will not hear of it." Otto stated, stepping over him to prevent him from getting up onto his feet. His son tried to back away, extremely unsettled, clearly looking for some words he could find that would prevent him from being punished. "You will go. Now. Leave this room or I will summon a white cloak myself to serve your discipline of taking such advantage of the princess' virtue." 

The color drained from Gwayne's face - his mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. He might've thought to claim her hand, or her virtue, it mattered not to his Lord Father. He would leave this room with nothing but his damaged senses if he had any of his own. So he slunked back - though he had, with his final motion, sent one last pleading look at the princess just as the door of her chambers closed behind him. 

Otto locked it. Tightly. 

And he returned to her.

"Why did you do that?" Aella's voice was dull. 

So he hurried. He removed his doublet swiftly and did what he could to remove his boots before he knelt before her. It was times such as these that he was reminded of how small she was. Often Aella took up such a large space in his mind, a larger than life figure whose every breath and action took hold of him and kept his attention hostage. But she was a small girl. She stood shorter than most, teetering between Queen Aemma and the Princess Rhaenyra in height, making her appear all the more delicate when compared to her brothers. And especially to himself.

In their encounters he was able to take her in his arms and pin her wherever pleased them, against a bed yes, but also against stone walls, pillars and just from the his own force keeping her up. But even then she had never seemed small. 

Not like now.

Otto was face to face with her even on his knee, which was helpful in this moment as he reached a gentle hand to cup her pale cheek, leaning down and pressing his forehead against hers, not allowing her to refuse.

"You're not answering me." Aella complained, squirming. He held her regardless.

"Because it is not worth answering." He replied. He knew what she needed in this moment was physicality. He'd thought it queer in the beginning, but he appreciated it all the more now. It made more sense to him as their encounters increased. When her mood swung low, heavy like a pendulum, she needed touch, sexual, intimate or sensual. The heat, the grounding sensation of another focused her attention, it brought her back down from wherever it had taken her.

"Damn all, Otto I needed - " The princess twisted in his grip, trying to push herself free, but he didn't allow it. 

"I know what you need." Otto promised her gently. His hand raked up from her cheek then up through her pale blonde hair, letting his fingers lightly scratch along her scalp until she shivered. "But first you must listen - no, Aella listen to me!" Her restarted squirming stopped once as she withered beneath his snap. 

His guilt resurfaced in earnest then, and it forced his hand.

Near all Targaryens were born with the purple eyes of Old Valyria. And Aellas, he found, were especially beautiful. A shade between violet and lilac, made more startling under the gleam of candlelight or when flashing with her own fire. But now, he found that as they looked upon him now, soft and vulnerable in a way he rarely ever saw in her -

They caused a strong wash of tenderness to bloom within him. And he was not able, or willing, to shake himself free of it. 

"I must offer you my deepest apologies." Otto said to her. Her lashes fluttered slightly and her eyes finally met his properly. A lovely purple to plain brown. He leaned closer, brushing the bridge of his long nose brushed along her smaller one. The tip of her nose was cool. There was no fire burning in her chambers. "It was wrong of me to say such things to you. The dire circumstances were ours both, and to suggest you were not affected by the same consequences was unfeeling and unfair to you. I apologize, sincerely, Aella." 

His princess swallowed. She did not prefer her intimacies to be spoken allowed, but that was no matter to him. He needed to speak aloud his regrets, and needed her to listen and understand it.

So it wasn't until Aella nodded shortly did he do as she needed.

Otto took her by her waist, lifting her into his arms as he took her place on her featherbed. He wasn't hard, and he was certain she wasn't wet, but he would do what he could. He pulled up her silks, reaching his hand between her thighs. She wasn't even damp, but he patiently began petting her anyway, rubbing the pads of his fingers in circles around her pussy.

In his arms, she rocked and lowered her forehead to rest against his shoulder. He kissed her when she did, first her cheek and then along her jaw while his hand slowly moved. Romantic touches, things she normally would never abide. But she let them now, as she held to him weakly. 

Soon, only once he felt his fingers moving more easily against her as she dampened from the attention, did his cock properly begin to stir, growing to half-mast, but enough for his purposes. He dragged his hand lower, grinding his palm against her until her breathing had hitched in his ear and he knew his princess was prepared enough.

"Up now, Aella." Otto commanded softly of her, his free hand lowering to his lap as he freed himself from his trousers, pumping it idly. His lover did, rising up further onto her knees, placing her weight onto his shoulders as she did, not yet wishing to remove herself from his neck. He did not mind it.

He positioned himself against her, the sensation of pleasure of the sensitive tip rubbing along her wet core enough to make him fully stand at attention for Aella who immediately began to sink herself upon him. She did so not not as prepared as she should have been, but she would not allow such a thing to hold her back. Every inch of himself was claimed, from every part of his cock to his flesh and bone and what remained to his thoughts as he was once again forced to fight against the rapture that was being inside of her - 'riding a dragon,' she'd once said to him with a wry smile, nude and glorious to behold. 

But now was the time for her physical comforts, not his own pleasure. But the half smothered, "Seven," that escaped him could not be helped. 

Only once Otto was kept tight and warmly inside of her, did Aella relax even slightly. Once inside of her she slackened, settling into his lap as her hands slowly moved up his head to then wrap around his shoulders in a closer embrace. 

His hands rose up as she clung to him, running them beneath he shift and along the delicate curve of her back, letting his own heat warm her as he stroked her, petted her. He'd seen her do much the same to the wild dragon she rode, the connection of dragon and rider ran deep, perhaps even deeper than he suspected. Targaryens were otherworldly - closer to Gods than man. This he'd resented, often, even during the time of Jaehaerys, back when the old King rode Vermithor. 

All of the greatest Targaryens rode dragons. First Aegon and the Black Dread, Visenya and Vhagar, Rhaenys and Meraxes. Every child knew this, the stories of the dragon riders who began it all. But Cannibal, vicious creature it was to all who could ever hope to approach, had been nested in Dragonstone even before the settling of the Conquerors. And he belonged to Aella. A wild dragon, older than the conquest.

And he liked to be petted. As she liked to be petted. 

Otto pressed his fingers deeper against her back, allowing his claws to roam up and down her back as she absorbed his warmth and affection.

He enjoyed her fighting. He enjoyed her arguments, her snips and digs and the way her voice became so silky when it dropped into High Valyrian. 

But her in his arms, vulnerable - this was a cherished thing.

Otto shifted. His cock, warm inside of her, was going to grow soft soon without more friction. So he rocked very slowly, just enough to keep himself hard while he warmed her. He did not count how long he held her. There was just her quiet, her flame not even flickering - and then, minutes, ten, twenty, however many later, did she speak.

"Do you believe me a sin, Otto?" She asked, only a hair above a whisper. Her head had risen up from his shoulder, parting only far away enough so she might meet his eye.

"You could never be a sin." He promised, his words deep and full of truth.

Aella's arms slackened slightly then from around his shoulders, and soon her hips were beginning to move on their own, slow and purposeful. 

Otto slipped his hand between them, pressing his fingers there against her pleasure, just firmly enough that her rosy lips parted.

Her rocking began growing steadier, sturdier as she held onto his body to arch herself in the way she liked best. But her grip was still uneasy, her fires not yet aflame, and her needs were still difficult to grasp at.

"Otto - I need," Aella muttered, her breathing deeper and more frustrated as she was now becoming wet, truly wet on his cock.

His arms wrapped around her, his hand reaching up and cradling the back of her head as he turned them, letting her lay back upon her bedding as he recaptured her lips. Their kisses were often full of clashing teeth and battles for dominance, but he would not accept that here. Here he tasted her, her kiss sweet and tart in equal measure as she accepted him, her legs drawing up and pulling against his hips. But the Hand paused in his capture and looked down upon his lover, his hand drawing down over her body, his eyes trailing over the motion until he was able to devour the sight of where her pussy kept him wetted and warm inside - and then her face, stunning especially when drawn in frustration and pleasure...

He could do nothing else but make love to her. 

[willowed-wisp]

HER KNIGHT, HIS HEART - part eight

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Ser Harwin Strong x female!OC/ x reader

WARNINGS: swearing, descriptions of childbirth, mentions child loss, suggestive themes, violence, Criston Cole getting his ass kicked

TEN YEARS LATER…

Elspeth was on a mission, her destination were Alicent’s chambers. Every part of the woman was swollen and she didn’t know whether it were her breasts or beneath her diaphragm that burned. It had been like that very early on in her seventh pregnancy.

Nobody was surprised when she popped out an army, the depravity sounding from their chambers… it wouldn’t take a genius to know she’d become pregnant over and over.

Their eldest, Alyric, was three-and-ten while their youngest, Lyonei, was four.

Knocking on the door… she met a mop of platinum blonde, a strong jaw followed. Her stare lasted mere seconds, turning attention to the open-eyed, mortified sister of hers. “Alicent…” Her head shunned away. Now her focus remained on that of the Rogue Prince- who had been tamed by Laena Velaryon that past decade, “What in the hells did you say?”

“Only the truth, daughter…”

Storming over to him, “I will never be your daughter!” She stared up at him, the same scowl he himself had and the same wickedness- even in High Valyrian. It was returned with a smile.

“The blood of the dragon runs thick…” By the Gods, she would stab him if she got the chance.

“I’m nothing like you.”

“That’s yet to be seen.”

She reminded herself of why she was here- why had he been there in the first place? “What business do you have here?”

“I was asking The Queen if my grandchildren might accompany the princes down to the Dragonpit…”

“Can you stop speaking fucking Valyrian? Prince Daemon, please leave. My sister and I have matters to discuss…” He gave a less than respectful bow. They both seethed. “You are his kin. And it somehow slipped your mind to inform me!” That was their mother in her.

Elspeth's own anger boiled deeper- primal even. Yet she contained that eruption- it wasn't good for the baby. For now. “Father told me well over a decade ago,” that struck a heartstring in the younger, “I didn’t say anything to protect you… you had more than enough on your shoulders.” Elspeth observed the face change. “I was embarrassed.”

“How so?”

“I am a bastard, Alicent. I’ve been trying to escape it… escape him… keep him away from my children,” Rage turned to recoil- for fifteen years she had felt hopeless with the sword over her head, “Please, sister… understand that... I need to protect them…”

It wasn't a scapegoat nor did she cry crocodile tears... she had always been trying to keep her kids safe. It didn’t matter if Alyric was thirteen, he still couldn’t deal with the likes of Daemon Targaryen. Even if his own father was Lord Commander of the City Watch. Luckily for her sanity the prince along with his wife and twin girls were headed to Pentos that next day.

"When you were younger you always looked up to me... what changed?" An ambush down the corridor.

A roll of her eyes, "Could we have this conversation later? Every part of me is swollen, my ribs are like daggers and I cannot be bothered with your manipulation today..." Despite the agony she paced quicker, or so she thought.

"You're just like your mother," Gods, did she wish she was armed.

Continuing forward, "Don't talk about my mother. Not after the pain you caused her."

His hand, with a surprising level of gentleness turned her to face him- the eight month old bump affirmed a comfortable distance. "What did Otto Hightower tell you? That I attacked Alyrie?"

"Didn’t you? Then why am I here with your blood in my veins..."

A sincere, stern look on the man's face- he hesitated in his words, "The times I shared with your mother were of her choice... my decisions may be... questionable, at times... but I’m not heartless." She shoved him away, unsure.

"That's yet to be seen, my prince..." She did the proper action of a curtsy, unable to commit to it fully due to her condition. That confused her even more.

Had her father lied to her all of those years? An entire decade.

She did naturally have a liking for Daemon in an idolisation type of manner, they shared the same temperament; knowing fully well why they did.

The woman needed to see her children, probably in the courtyard…

She shares his majesty’s presence on the balcony- spying if her wayward children and husband were in fact there. “Your Grace,” she curtsied with some labour. It had definitely been the hardest pregnancy- even when her twin boys, Jaimes and Ronin, made home in her stomach. She hoped the bloating would fade when she delivered- not wishing to feel blistered her entire life.

The King- dishevelled due to illness- waved his hand, “No need for such formalities, Elspeth- we are family,” he didn’t know how closely related they truly were.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he motioned for her to take a perch- she smiled up at the Hand of the King, her father-in-law.

Turning her attention down to the courtyard she saw no knight of the name Harwin Strong, only that of Criston Cole. With him, the princes and her own children stood. Listening to every word he said. “I’m going to see if Ser Criston requires assistance with training,” her feet despised her but she stood. Buckling slightly, held firmly by Lyonel.

“Maybe some rest would benefit you, Elspeth,” the man said with caution. “Ser Criston is the best swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms- he can handle training the children…”

She patted the hand on her shoulder, “Rest is for the dead,” she joked, though she could be in the grave that very next month.

Early on into her pregnancy she was diagnosed with ‘toxic birth disease’. The mortality rate was… devastatingly high, and she informed the Maesters not to divulge to her Lord husband- he worried so…

She would make it through… she had to for the children she made her way down for.

That same courtyard she used to hack training mannequins and Harwin would always catch her. But now she bore witness to her own children- even her own girls alongside their brothers and cousins.

Alyric stood out like a sore thumb, tall and already gaining his father’s ballast. Even his smile was like Harwin’s and his fighting stance. That grin turned into a scowl, and shouting commenced. “Ser Criston, Luke is struggling, if I may-,”

“No little Lord Strong, you may not. Lucerys must learn, as I did from the pommel of a sword or the blade itself,” Elspeth liked neither the condescension nor the tone the knight used. “If you’re a trained warrior, Alyric, spar with me.” He grappled the front of the boy’s shirt, who was able to maintain balance from the brute force.

She staved off intruding- Alyric wouldn’t care for the embarrassment of conceding because of his mother being protective. Like his father, Alyric was formidable in stature and presence but that didn’t provide technique.

Ser Criston presumed he would have the eldest Strong on the floor in one strike but Alyric was a young brute. Until the knight crushed him to the ground, “You’re not the best there has been, boy. Maybe the Lord Commander needs to teach you modesty,”

That was the last straw, “Ser Criston.” The children shivered at that voice- for there was nothing they feared more than the wrath of their mother, “We are finished here for the day children…” voice as soft as silk and as gentle as a feather. They ran along- Gwen ushering the younger ones out.

And she did not care if they had an audience overhead, “I do not take orders from you. You may be of royal birth, but you are still a bastard.” He must have overheard Daemon and Alicent.

“You forget yourself, Cole. Strong words for a common-born concubine.” His hand wrapped her cheek before she could think. Not phased she readied for his raised fist, aiming for her face. But he found the floor thanks to a swiftly negotiated knee to the crotch. Done so with grace and decorum. “A reminder of who my father is. Now stay on your knees… where you rightfully belong,” venom rolled off her tongue. Looking up towards the disapproving faces of the King and Lyonel Strong.

A face far too sweet for the person behind it gave a snide smirk, “You sound just like him,” he paused - studying her every move, “Your mouths move far too much, for what you both are… conniving cunts.” Contemplating whether or not to crouch down, deciding not to; being eight months along.

"You're the one on the floor after hitting a lady who is with babe..." Her shadowed green gaze bore straight into the man's soul, "What a sad little life, Cole... now they all see what a wretch you are."

Elspeth agreed with him. She did sound like Daemon, but at least with the Rogue Prince you knew what to expect.

The unexpected.

Clutching her swelled stomach, she paced to her sister's chambers. Heart pounding, her back felt constricted. Elspeth greeted the guards stationed outside of the door with politeness, stepping into the room- finding those big brown eyes. "Elspeth...?"

"Your 'sworn shield' just hit me... King Viserys and the Lord Hand saw it for themselves…" Elspeth's forehead felt clammy- cheeks reddened.

"Ser Criston... hit you?" The woman didn't know if she nodded in answer to her sister.

Alicent's arm wrapped around her older sister- feeling how hot she was. The unmistakeable coiling in her lower stomach was all too familiar, "Fuck..."

"What is it?" Something felt different, body numb. She could no longer feel or hear Alicent. To her, she was in a forest with her mother's long red hair swaying as they rode deeper into the trees. But in reality her sister screamed for the assistance of Maesters and for the presence of the strongest knight in the Seven Kingdoms.

Curls were the first thing she awoke to followed by bloodshot eyes like the ocean. "My strong knight..." Milk of the poppy, she presumed- reaching her hand to rub his cheek with her thumb. His rigidity solved itself as he welcomed that warmth- not nearly as searing as she had been beforehand. But even under the influence, Elspeth knew her husband- something was direly wrong. "What troubles you?"

Then she remembered snippets. How she rattled the King's quarters with cries to keep her baby safe... "No... we couldn't have lost the baby... Harwin..." Tears wrapped his eyes, shaking his head. The murmurs of child-like giggles in the distance.

"We have a daughter..." But a plague cast over him, until he broke. Normally she was the one cracking like a piece of glass. His name sounded so divine on her lips and her touch a warm reminder that he was alive as was she.

His body rocked the bed with sobs as her arms enveloped his bulking frame. His golden cloak beneath her fingertips, "We're both here. The Stranger will have to make a better attempt..."

"You were dead,” time stopped. She hadn’t been crying, but when Harwin; a man who possessed such redoubt, quivered in his whisper… she couldn’t help it. “The Maesters said that your insides failed you, and by some miracle,” a tear shed, “you are here… by my side. And so is our darling daughter. What shall we name her?”

Her head crashed against the pillow. The look on his face imprinted in her memory- one of joy laboured by disparity, “A miracle… Mirabel… our little Mia,” the innocent face of the girl present- Rhaenyra holding the girl in her arms.

She had been crying, “She may be the cutest button of your brood… what is her name?”

“Mirabel… our Mia…”

Criston Cole was brought to justice. The King was appalled, and the prince was blind with fury. “Ser Criston Cole… you have been a faithful knight to the Crown, but today I witnessed abhorrent actions that are forbidden as a member of the Kingsguard nor of any noble man,” Elspeth watched on alongside her husband, “Before I cast judgement, speak… what do you have to say for yourself?”

Elspeth respected the king, but he was too lenient. “The words of Lady Elspeth are as tainted as her blood, Your Grace…”

“What do you mean? Lady Elspeth is a just, fair woman,”

“She is a bastard, Your Grace, not the daughter of Otto Hightower,” Viserys’ laughed at the man knelt down.

Elspeth was frozen in the crowd of nobility- all eyes on her, “And who may her father be?” The King held genuine amusement to the accusation.

The heavy doors opened, and so entered the Prince Daemon, “She is my kin.”

Ser Criston, no matter how true his claim had been, was exiled to the Wall. While Elspeth became legitimised under the eyes of the King and of the Seven. Though, Viserys was not thrilled- he was glad peace was made with Daemon, who remained in Kings Landing.

Laena passed away giving birth to their third child, killed by dragonfyre- Vhagar. The question of Rhaenyra’s children wasn’t thrown into contention, and they were never to know that the disgraced knight Ser Criston Cole was their father. But Elspeth knew what Jace and Luke were- but she loved them like her own sons. She would protect them with her dying breath.

And she did not break that vow, even against her own sisters. Lylith had always loved animals, held such compassion that she spent her free days compiling a bestiary of the creatures of Westeros. She was unlike Gwen, who loved hunting- alike their mother. The second born daughter had never detailed Vhagar up close.

During the wake of Laena Velaryon, she sought out the she-dragon. They feared she had been eaten, but she arrived returned on green back of the biggest dragon in the Seven Kingdoms. Harwin didn’t know whether to be proud or terrified that his family owned the two largest dragons - except Vermithor - in the Seven Kingdoms.

Peace was quaint in the years following.

Lyonel Strong still remained as the King’s Hand, though, Otto Hightower still plotted his return. Quashed when Viserys died, and Rhaenyra swiftly ascended. “I wish to offer you the post as my Hand…” It was what the pair had always dreamed of.

“The Lords will not abide by that-“

“I am Queen, I am the Head of the Seven Kingdoms and they will follow my commands,” she paused at the apprehension written over Elspeth’s face.

The Princess shook her head, “Lord Lyonel has been a faithful Hand to your father- ,”

“How am I supposed to rule if I cannot fully rely on my Hand? In my absence how can I rely on the judgement of men to carry out my word?” The Queen held the Princess’ hands, “You are my closest friend- ever since you arrived in Kings Landing- before I was born. You have never shown deceit nor malice on my part- even my husband doesn’t have my complete favour… you do…”

“If I say yes will it stop your queenly speech?” Rhaenyra gave a nod. “Then yes, I will be your Hand…”

She was a bloody good one at that, Rhaenyra remained in Kings Landing as she always had.

Ric was a promising young heir to Harrenhal- knighted for his fighting in the second war for the Stepstones. He was a good sword, and betrothed to Rhaena Velaryon for his actions. They suited one another- calm and loyal.

Gwen, unruly like her mother, rode horses not dragons; fearing great heights. She found a love match in the Lord of the North, Cregan Stark. He loved her fighting spirit- unlike any Southerner he had met.

Lily rode the biggest dragon in the Known World. Her mother refused a marriage with the Lannisters- who called out for an alliance. Lily found affections with the young Lord Oscar Tully. They had proven to be a youthful yet wise Lord and Lady of Riverrun.

Jaimes found himself separated from his twin, Ronin but Jaime was living his dream under the wing of his uncle Gwayne. Travelling the Seven Kingdoms at the age of six-and-ten, yet to find himself a wife but with his father’s looks and mother’s drive- it’s more so the fact that he isn’t looking.

Ronin had claimed the Bronze Fury at two-and-ten, and has since built a loving bond with Vermithor. He found himself with a crowd of women gawking, his mother’s angelic features and his father’s demeanour. Yet he only had eyes for the brash Alysanne Blackwood, admiring the huntress and sharing liaisons while at Harrenhal. Elspeth warned him to ask for her hand before somebody else demanded it- and he feared no person as much as he feared and loved his mother.

Cullen favoured the pen rather than the sword, becoming a scholar. He toured around the libraries, transcribing every ounce of knowledge he garnered. This took him to the Free Cities- where he encountered a young maiden. Her name was Aliandra, she loved his inquisitive nature and he her fiery attitude. It was only when he ventured to her homeland that he discovered her to be Princess Aliandra Martell, and he was to be her Prince Consort. It aided in relations between the Seventh Kingdom.

Lyonei continued her education in alchemy and prophecy. Still close friends with Princess Helaena, though, at Harrenhal she found the company of Alys Rivers- rumoured to be her aunt- and judiciously followed her expertise. For that time being she had no room for love, neither did her parents force her.

Mia resided at Driftmark, Maesters said she had problems with the heart. But she enjoyed life with her head in books. Rhaenys was more than willing to house the gentle-spoken, petite girl even in her adulthood. She found the sea air aided in her ailments, finding love in a sailor.

Their parents moved to Harrenhal when Ser Lyonel died. Larys lurked in the shadows, not any danger.

The Kingdoms lived in peace. But the pair weren’t alive when the power struggles took place- resulted to ash and bone.

Dying in bed together- both of old bones. Knowing what eternal love felt like, reuniting with Alyrie Florent and those lost along the years.

History would remember the fierceness of Elspeth Hightower- true Targaryen born - married a strong. An issue of seven, rider of Ebrion the Cannibal and the best shot in the Seven Kingdoms.

THE END

___________________________

So this is the last part of the series. I have loved writing this and thank you for the support with it. Thank you to everybody reading ❤️❤️❤️

Series taglist:-

@llynx7 @babyred7 @felicisimor @beebeechaos

[astharoshebarvon]

Aemond/Lucerys ABO AU

Where Viserys after seeing so many people against Rhaenyra’s claim reluctantly weds her to Daemon, making his brother his heir and next king, his daughter his queen. At least his daughter would be a queen and safe from all harm. He knows literally no one would question Daemon’s claim, not if they wanted to die a very painful death. He knew how fierce his alpha brother was, no one could force their opinions on him or try to control him either.

As angry as Daemon made him at times, he knew his brother was not a monster as many people liked to believe. Unlike him who ordered his wife’s death for a son. No, he did not get to judge Daemon when he literally took Rhaenyra’s mother from her for a male heir, he did not get to say he loved Aemma after all he did.

Despite not liking it, he had seen Rhaenyra and Daemon’s attraction, he hoped they would have a good life together. Rhaenyra would at least not let Daemon be as unhinged as he was, Daemon would listen to her, of that he was sure. They would rule together and be happy.

Otto’s plans are ruined when Viserys makes the announcement. He now regrets marrying his daughter to him. He asks to be retired and goes back to his homeland, telling his daughter to forget everything. Nothing is relevant now.

Alicent curses her father but tries to make the best of her situation. She still has three children with Viserys while Daemon and Rhaenyra travel the realm for some years, enjoying their married life and preparing for their reign as next king and queen. Even her relationship with Rhaenyra becomes better after a while. The rift that had come between them lessens with time.

Years pass and Daemon and Rhaenyra have five sons, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey, Aegon and Viserys.

Viserys thinks about abdicating since he was tired and Daemon was way too eager to sit on the throne. He was quite pleased with his life, his daughter and brother were happy, he had five adorable grandchildren, and his own three children with Alicent. He even had an alpha son, Aemond. He was ready to live his life peacefully now without all the headaches. Let Daemon deal with them.

When Daemon is crowned king he feels very very pleased. He has finally gotten his hearts desires, he is king, he has Rhaenyra by his side, he has five sons.

It still does not stop him from scowling at his nephew who keeps on looking at his son with the look he recognizes very well. He does not like it in the slightest that Aemond is looking at his son, Lucerys, his omega son the same way he looked at Rhaenyra once upon a time. How dare he?!

The most mortifying part was Lucerys seemed to return the affections, especially the way he laughed whenever he was in Aemond’s horrid company.

When Viserys learns of this, for some time he just keeps on laughing and laughing much to the annoyance of Daemon.

“You don’t like history repeating itself, Daemon?”

Rhaenyra sighed, knowing she couldn’t win this argument. Daemon doesn’t find the situation funny in the slightest.

“He wished he was like me.” Daemon scoffed. As if the boy could ever be. Aemond should be grateful he was allowing him to marry Luke. He would not have if his son did not feel anything for his nephew.

Unfortunately, Luke did. It still made him so angry whenever he recalled the bright grin on Luke’s face when Rhaenyra had told him Aemond and he would be wed. Then again that grin, that happiness was the reason he allowed Aemond to marry Luke.

“Your father doesn’t like me very much, does he?” Aemond said as he recalled feeling his uncle’s glare at dinner. Even now that he and Lucerys are bonded in the tradition of their house, married under seven, sometimes Daemon still looked at him as if he had personally offended him.

“Well, all parents are protective of their children,” Luke muttered, resting his cheek on his alpha husband’ chest, “more so alphas of their babies.”

“Hmm. I suppose I would be same with ours.”

Lucerys blushed at the words, lifting his head to meet Aemond’s gaze. As expected, his husband was looking at him with that fond gaze of his.

“Children?” Luke asked, his voice soft.

“Maybe we should stop restraining ourselves. Even if I am afraid of the king and your father’s reaction if you get pregnant so soon after bonding.” Aemond gently stroked Luke’s cheek, his alpha delighting in the way Luke’s breath hitched.

Lucerys laughed, “He won’t get angry. Mother and father love me very much.”

Aemond’s eyes softened, “they do, don’t they?” He leaned down and brushed his lips with Lucerys, “not more than me.” He whispered softly, “I am the only who loves you the most in the world.”

Lucerys didn’t agree with that assessment but let Aemond have his moment as he returned the kiss with equal fervor. He was sure his love for Aemond was far greater. And he is not going to his parents. Their love for him and his siblings knew no bounds.

  “You need to stop glaring at our good son, my love.”

Daemon smiled as he met his wife’s gaze, “when did I do that?”

Rhaenyra laughed, “Your gaze is always on him whenever he is with Lucerys.”

Daemon smirked, “does this mean your gaze is always on me, dear?”

Rhaenyra’s eyes widened, her eyes shining with amusement, “I think everyone is aware of how you look at Aemond with disapproval whenever he and Luke are together. Last night’s dinner was not unusual.”

Daemon shrugged, “it’ll keep the fear of gods in him. I think its fine.”

Rhaenyra sighed, “I think you are putting too much fear in him, Daemon. Will you act like this even when they become parents?”

Daemon stilled, “our son is pregnant? So soon after bonding?”

Rhaenyra shook his head, “no. But it will happen sooner or later.”

Daemon leaned back on the pillows, “yes, yes, I know it will.” He sighed, “I think I understand now why Viserys was so reluctant to wed you to me.”

Rhaenyra smiled wistfully, “yes. There is always this worry there, isn’t it?”

Daemon nodded, “there is. But I get where you are coming from. Aemond does adore Luke so it will be fine. I guess I am more worried for him and Viserys since they are omega children of ours.”

Rhaenyra nodded and leaned in to rest her head on her husband’s chest, “Viserys is very young still. We have time before he’ll be of age.”

Daemon groaned, “I hope he ends up developing feelings for either Joff or Aegon. That’ll save us the headaches.”

Rhaenyra laughed, “well there is no harm in hoping.”

[lady-phasma]

How will alicent and rhaenyra react when they find out about the ottomon affair?

How will alicent react when she finds out Aemond isn’t her child but instead the love child of daemon and Otto?

Is viserys rolling in his grave?

I don't think Alicent will be that surprised by the love affair. @madame-fear surely has thoughts about it. Alicent would probably be mortified that it was discovered. After all, she would have been the only other person to know the secret that Aemond wasn't hers! But she loved him enough to raise him as her own to keep Ottomon's secret. Ultimately, she wants her father to be happy since he has been alone for so long, but she would rather all of Westeros not know. I'm curious to know when the three of them decided to tell Aemond who his biological parents are.

Rhaenyra, on the other hand, would probably find it quite amusing and predictable. Not much about her kepus surprises her. As I said in another post, perhaps this frees her to marry for love and not for duty. So she might be thrilled with the arrangement. Surely Otto is less grumpy with Daemon's affection now on public display, that must make everyone a bit happier!

Poor Vizzy... he just wanted his family to be happy, but Ottomon? Maybe he would be glad that his brother is happy. However, in the afterlife, would he know that Otto is no longer scheming and plotting and is just supporting his beloved King Daemon? We can only hope that Viserys knows how much Otto cares for Daemon and he can rest in peace.

[daenysthedreamer101]

"I intend to marry...the Lady Alicent Hightower, before spring's end." His Grace revealed.  Daena couldn't help but sigh softly and close her eyes in disappointment. She shook her head, both her mind and body disapproving of the choice. She looked up at Rhaenyra whose entire face fell - her violet eyes were full of hurt and betrayal. Alicent looked mortified and started picking at her nails and a look of guilt washed over her face.  On the contrary, Ser Otto never looked happier. Daena couldn't help but wonder what would happen if she jumped across the table and started choking him with those stupid chains around his neck. She wished her father was here, he would easily chop that snake's head off with Dark Sister. 

Excerpt - Daughter of Steel and Bronze, ch 8

HOTD masterlist

[mondstaub1]

Modern/ABO Lucemond fanfiction

- When Viserys died he left everything to his daughter, brother and grandkids (Rhaenyras kids of corse) several houses and mansions around the world, his company, his money, stocks .... all in all several millions $

- So Alicent and her kids were left with nothing and in a terrible finacel situation since:

- Aegon (beta) was a highschool dropout with a alcohol and gambeling problem

- Alicent (omega) never worked before (she was a gold digger, or used as one, that is up for discussion)

- Daeron was in middle school (alpha)

- Helaena (beta) had graduated from highschool but had problems with autism (everyone else had problems she is just so sweet, not her fault her family can't see that) so she was working part time with kids

- Aemond (omega) was about to finsh highschool and since he could not bare to leave his family could not go to collage

- Otto is dead (we are all so sad) (Daemon problably threw a party)

- So they moved into a small aparment and tried to find work with was difficult for several reasons, mostly their lack of experience, Aegons drinking problem and the fact that most people were freaked out by Aemonds eyepatch

- All of them got paid the bare minimum wgrn the had jobs and whenever they had a bite saved up Aegon would spend it on himself

- So in his desperation Aemond used his status as an Omega and got a job as a dancer at a stripp club (Alicent nearly fainted)

- He danced behind a one way mirror so he never saw who he danced for and who it was his was undressing himself for (no touching ever)

- Aemond also took hormons to make his chest and ass grow (he hated the way it made him feel and look but he needed the money)

- Meanwhile Rhaenyra, Daemond and their family ran the buisness and slowly everyone grew up - Jace (beta) studied business to one day take over the company

- Luke after turning out to be an alpha to everyones suprise went to Driftmark to study merean biology and he learnt how to sail from his grandfather

- Joffrey beta got into highschool and played sports (he already had offers from collages for a full scolorship -

- Aegon and Viserys got into a privat school which they enjoyed and Visenya enjoyed her life as Rhaenyras youngest and daddys little girls with lots of sibling so spoil her (not presented)

- Baela (alpha) became an aphlate and Rhaena (omega) studied language and traveled

- After Luke graduated and passed his sailer purment Jace and some of Lukes friend dragged him to a stripped club (guess with one)

- They insisted Luke should have some fun and hired a stripper for a privat dance, they heard of a stripper nicknamed ,,The pirat" and thought it would be perfect to celebrat Luke offically becoming a sailer.

- Luke blushed but let himself be talked into it and the moment he saw the half naked omega through the one way mirror he felt his jaw drop, because in front of him dancinging in the most suductive poses was his oncle whom he had not seen since he was 14

- Aemond had chanced, he used to be so scary and intimidating and now he was dancing around a pole in a string tanger and a BH that seemed so small, well that did not matter when he took it of.

- Luke knew he sould look away but he couldn't and he didn't want to.

- The last time they talked Aemond told him he was a dirty bastard and his mother a whore, so this felt like sweet karma and honestly Aemond was hot

- So Luke sat there hard and with a shit eating grin, watching his uncle dance

- Once it was over Luke claped an said "Wow uncle, it's so nice to see you again. Even if I honestly didn't expect to see so much"

- Aemond went first pale and then red before he grabbed his underwear and ran away mortified

- Luke couldn't help but chuckel before going back to his brother and friends, but he decided not to tell anyone about Aemond.

- Aemonds heart nearly stopped when he heard the voice of his nephew, it had been years since the had seen each other but somehow he know instandly that it was Lucerys. Blood shot into his face once he became aware of the state he was in and so he flet, like the coward he once acussed Luke of being.

- His face burned, his intire body burned with shame, how was Luke even hear? This had to be a nightmare. But it wasn't and he knew it.

- At the end of the shift one of his coworkers aproched him and handed him money, saying it was a tip from one of his clients. Aemond knew immediatly from whom it was.

-He wanted to throw it away but he was not in a situation in with he could turn down money, so he took the 200$, feeling dirtier then ever before.

- The next day at breakfeast his mother anounced that they would meet with Rhaenrya at their old home, to celebrate Lukes graduation.

-Aemond wanted to die, he didn't want to face Lucerys, he didn't know it he could but it seems like he had no choice.

- On the other end of town Luke was grinning after this mother told him his aunte and uncle would attend the party thown in his honor. He could no wait to see Aemond again.

[alishaaxo]

The Green Queen And A Greener Future

Chapter 2

ao3 edition

King Viserys had sent for her to meet in his chambers once more.

Alicent tempered herself and quietly prepared to speak to the man who ruined her life in his pursuit to resolve his guilt for the butchering of Aemma Arryn. Yet she knew that for Aegon’s sake, for Helaena and the poor children, she couldn’t act rashly. Alicent had to act the way she was brought up to be: an obedient maiden, yet she knew that as a supposed submissive maiden, she could also manipulate and control a weak man the likes of Viserys, and influence his frail mind to finally give her children what they deserve.

As she reached the guarded door, King Viserys stood upright, welcoming Alicent to his chambers.

“Lady Alicent, please sit down.” He states and they both gather at his model of Valyria, Alicent sitting idly and awkwardly, unsure of how to speak the man that ruined her livelihood.

This was the neglectful coward that haunted her. The man whose twisted guilt tore their family, and Westeros as a whole, apart all to appease his impudent daughter who he abandoned in his pursuit for a son.

“My King,” She stammered, the confrontation of Viserys causing a lapse in her mind, making it hard to manipulate this pathetic man for her cause. “Forgive me, but I was blindsided by you picking me as your new wife.” The Hightower women uttered, after all, Viserys was unaware of the true intention of Otto Hightower regarding Alicent’s meetings with him, which were innocent in their outward nature and he never told Alicent of her perverse feelings toward her.

King Viserys looked upward at her finally, a confused bewilderment on his face, as if only now realising that Alicent had her own thoughts and perhaps did not wish to be married to the King. “Lady Alicent, I’ll admit I was too hasty in declaring my intentions, but I enjoyed our conversations about Valyria, and I believe that you would make a good Queen.”

The future Green Queen replies hastily, portraying her truthful shame regarding Rhaenyra’s inclusion in their courtship of betrayal, “Thank you, My King. But I’m worried about Rhaenyra. She confronted me just before I arrived here. As I’m her close friend, she feels betrayed that her father proposed to me.” Alicent then has a moment of realisation.

She could begin her destruction of Rhaenyra in the mind of Viserys now. By planting a seed in his mind that Rhaenyra wasn’t the perfect respectful heir, he falsely believes she can become.

The Hightower maiden continues acting mortified and utters Rhaenyra’s insults, “She even called me immoral words I can’t dare speak aloud.”

The Targaryen Patriarch’s face hardens with anger, “Alicent, it’s okay you can tell me exactly what she said.” he instructed, playing into Alicent’s scheming hands.

“She called me a scheming harlot!” The Hightower girl ushers out rapidly, “I was so scared, she shamed me publicly, I am glad nobody was present but Rhaenyra’s words might ruin me if she continues believing this.”

Viserys’ fuming expression continued, reddening in anger, “I must deal with her.”

“Alicent, I have to cut our time short and speak to my daughter, I’ll see you soon, my wife-to-be.” He states, briefly pausing his animosity to glance at Alicent with love in his gaze, as he grasps her hand carefully portraying his fleeting fondness for the young maiden before striding out of his chambers, intent encompassing his angered stride.

Alicent now was left alone in his chambers with her thoughts. She had finally confronted her neglectful husband, the man who excessively indulged Rhaenyra’s heedless actions and ignored the family he desired so heavily.

All that was left now, was to marry Viserys.

And Alicent subsequently could begin her plan and consolidate her own power-base, away from the hands of the men who destroyed her innocence.

———————————

It was time for the greatest wedding of many years to occur in Westeros today.

Alicent Hightower was to join the Royal Household, and after months of subtle manipulation toward King Viserys, Alicent knew that once the wedding ceremony had occurred that she would be relegated the duties of a strong Queen with authority and responsibilities and finally have the power she needed to protect her children’s lives.

She glanced down at herself, wearing a beautiful dress unlike her previous wedding; she didn’t want to portray herself as a submissive little girl. She wanted to illustrate the power women had the ability to hold, while claiming her femininity. The gown was lustrous and elegant, stitched and sewn with the colours of the Targaryen House, yet Alicent almost in a sneaky manner, contained the colours that dictated her life once before, emerald green earings dangling and a viridescent necklace framing her frail collarbones.

Her father, Otto Hightower stood beside her, his eyes portraying a rare softness flickering on his countenance, “You look just like your mother.”

“I’m so proud of you, my darling daughter.” the typically solemn man outwardly betrayed his emotions, rushing Alicent into a hug, lingering on for a moment too long.

Regret glistened in his eyes for a small moment, before Alicent muttered half-false platitudes, both comforting her father truthfully, understanding that the man did what he believed was right for their families standing, yet also feeling betrayed that she was used in his goals, razing her innocence to the ground.

The father and daughter then walked together side-by-side, the daunting gates of The Sept Of Baelor lumbering into their view as they entered in, meeting the gaze of a multitude of nobles glancing their way, eager to gather a glimpse at the Hightowers, wanting to see the true power behind the throne and longing to ally themselves with the Queen and the Hand.

Alicent had then reached her husband-to-be, standing together as she heard the High Septon give his prayers and instruct her father to remove her maidencloak, shades of smoky silver with a sliver of green embroidered within removed from the shoulders of the maiden, now temporarily bare as King Viserys placed onto her youthful frame a cloak of his own house colours: red and black, signifying the passing of Alicent’s protection into the hands of Viserys from his Hand.

The Hightower Queen-to-be idly listened to the High Septon, words flickering in-and-out her mind as she recalled how tense her previous wedding had felt with anxiety and regret in following her father’s orders.

She then heard the Most Devout man instruct her and Viserys to speak aloud their vows in the name of The Seven.

They both verbalised the holy words, “With this kiss I pledge my love” subsequently pausing with Viserys Targaryen giving the Hightower girl a brief kiss.

Thereafter they spoke once more, their speeches then diverting in words, Alicent enunciated “…and take you for my lord and husband” spoken concurrently with King Viserys who exclaimed “..and take you for my lady and wife”.

The newly-wed spouses then ended their ceremonial vows with the Septon declaring them to be “One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” Alicent’s thoughts turned melancholy, knowing the High Septons words were false and King Viserys would rather reminisce on the wife he butchered than the women who birthed him four children and cared for his ailing body.

The Spouse then subsequently walked onwards to sit at the extravagant table surrounded by a clutter of their relatives and a multitude of nobles all scurrying for the attention and allyship of their Queen.

Rhaenyra looking snidely, anger pulsing in her veins, witnessing her closest friend marry her father moons after her mother’s death. Alicent could sympathise with Rhaenyra but didn’t care as the Princess had proven herself a hypocrite, seducing Daemon at his wife’s funeral and marrying him only a moon after Laenor’s suspicious death.

Alicent felt fit to ignore her ire, instead focusing on gaining strong allegiances in the Great Noble houses.

The grand feast was to commence. The Queen deciding to use it as one of the latest ventures of Alicents to gain nobility to join her in affiliation to the Team Green side.

She will not let Rhaenyra even have the possibility to have the option to create a foothold in the courts of Kingslanding and gain influence in Westeros. Though she has love for Rhaenyra deep inside her heart, the Green Queen knows that she cannot allow this reckless hubristic princess, who never grew out of her spoiled girlhood to possess the title and political standing which Aegon deserves. Rhaenyra Targaryen believes that she has the right to be Queen solely because of Viserys’ pitiful actions yet treats herself as the exception, unwilling to uphold this succession of hypocrisy toward other women who have brothers and uncles taking precedent over them.

As the extravagant feast commenced, Viserys indulging in piles of meaty goods given by servants and barrels of luscious burgundy wine, Alicent descended downwards to the other nobles in the ballroom, greeting her cousin on her mother’s side, the Lady Margarey Redwyne, eldest daughter of Helene Hightower nee Redwyne’s brother and her younger sister Delena Redwyne, a maiden matching Alicent in age.

Giving a respectful bow, Lady Margarey congratulates her cousin in a joyful tone, spreading platitudes of falsity, understanding that Alicent’s true wish was to marry a handsome knight who loved her deeply.

A women encased in green gathers toward them, slight jealousy in her eyes. Rose Tyrell addresses the women with meaningless positive trite, possibly believing the Hightowers to be overtaking their Liege Lord.

As Alicent traded words with her relatives and fellow women of the Reach envious of her position yet vying for her attention, Jason Lannister strided over, arrogance permeating in his steps.

“Ah, here lays the Queen of Westeros!” He roared jubilantly, drunkness clear in his actions. “And who are these ladies with you, Queen Alicent?” He asks after a brief pause, intrigue laying in his eyes.

The Hightower women knew this was her time to strike, time to gain allies and consolidate her power quickly, no time for dilly-dallying in her pursuit of the Targaryen Princesses’ love; no ignoring the importance of the years before Rhaenyra marries, before she can get her own heir.

“Here lies my dearest cousins, Lady Margarey and her sister Lady Delena. And the Lady Rose Tyrell.” The Hightower women declares, set on gaining allies through marriage and not solely relying on the nobility’s reluctance to have a woman as heir. “They are wondering what being a courted lady and wife is like for me as they aren’t betrothed as of yet.”

Alicent stops in a false pause, deciding to introduce an influential position to her cousins, “I believe I may make my cousins my lady-in-waitings if they wish to join me here in Kingslanding but their father may believe giving me responsibility over their betrothals is too hearty of a decision.” Jason’s eyes gleam in intrigue, clearly susceptible to Alicent’s manipulation in presenting the idea of marriage in his mind.

“Ah, I see.” The golden-haired man spoke calmly, clearly intrigued by the influential ladies but not wanting to involve himself with the flowery words of maiden, unfit for men. “Well, I’ll leave you ladies to discuss, I believe my brother is looking for me.” He murmurs, looking for an excuse to vacate and discuss potential allegiances with his brother of higher intelligence, Tyland Lannister.

The women now alone in their small gathering in the Royal Ballroom, not being interrupted by the increasingly drunken hordes of men intent of celebration. “Oh, I forgot to ask!” The Hightower Queen declares insincerely, “Lady Rose, would your father allow you to be my lady-in-waiting, having a woman like you join the Women’s Courts in Kingslanding would be a joy!” Alicent intent on turning the Tyrells onto her side, as they were neutral during the war, unwilling to join Rhaenyra in her cause yet also reluctant to join what they perceived were their overreaching bannermen.

Just as Rose Tyrell murmured regarding her father being likely to agree, and eruption of roaring materialised, illustrating that the celebration was over.

It was time for the dreadful bedding ceremony, yet that was not the significant event haunting Alicent, for she would also have to lose her maidenhead to King Viserys, much more haunting than confronting vulgar, raucous men. However Alicent was at least thankful that the Viserys of this time was not the crumbling rotting corpse of a man but instead was fairly handsome, the only deterring factor of his being his age coinciding closer to ber father, rather than herself.

Waves of men and women, drunk on mead and wind stormed in excitement, gathering in hordes to cluster around the spouses, pushing them toward their bedding chambers.

Alicent and Viserys had arrived, clothes halfheartedly torn away and stumbled into their room, decorated intricately by servants to portray an elegant facade, hiding away the true perception Alicent had regarding this monumentous event.

King Viserys and his new wife, Queen Alicent had officially consummated their marriage, unlike the untoward perceptions of Rhaenyra.

Whilst her maidenblood struck the bedsheets, Alicent prayed to the Gods, praying to the Seven and especially to the Mother, in the hopes that her dear firstborn was on his way, and that she could make up for her detrimental mistakes and instead give him the love she truly felt for him, instead of screaming at him in pressure regarding their duties.

All this was for her children.

Alicent no longer cares for the false duties her father gives her, but instead is acting in pursuit of her dear children.

Aegon her firstborn depressed due to the pressure Otto placed on them.

Aemond her dutiful boy, yet angered and susceptible to taunts.

And Helaena, her ethereal darling, whispering words that had once seemed nonsensical, and caring for her sweet babies.

[digupyourbones]

What do you think would go through Otto's head if he knew everything about Peter's backstory? (Osborn's indirect involvement in your AU included.)

Everything-everything?

The key thing about Otto finding out is that he's at least been aware of Peter since Peter was a baby (according to Satellite). He knows that Peter is a kid. Like, a child. If he did find out, he'd be mortified. Not only about the whole Spider-Man thing, but because of the rest of the tragedies he'd gone through.

First, finding out that Peter Parker is Spider-Man in the first place would send him into a massive coronary. Finding out that his greatest enemy was actually the only son of his late-friend? He'd be crushed. Definitely panicked. Also, finding out that his superpowers were a biproduct of Richard's work would horrify him. He would've thought that Richard's research ended when he died. Finding out it continued? Horrifying.

But, I think he'd feel a little good about it, deep in his soul. He knew that one of Richard's biggest fears was that his research would be used for evil, and Spider-Man is just good. He goes out of his way to help/save people and does his best, even if it gets in Doc Ock's way. Like, Marianas Trench deep of his soul, he feels good about that.

Otto would've already known about the death of Ben Parker. Either through the paper or because Norman made some offhanded comment about it. Finding out that Peter was there to watch him die? Horrifying.

(This feels really rambly and all over the place, sorry. My brain just has a lot of thoughts.)

Knowing that Osborn was involved in sending Peter down this path would make him sick. Like, Osborn orphaned two children for the sake of his company while at the same time being a father. Doc Ock is evil, yes, but he isn't a monster. It'd reaffirm a lot of things for Otto, namely that Osborn is a horrible person.

[lya-dustin]

Someone will remember us

Chapter 77

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @stargaryenx @arrthurpendragon

Gif by @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends

Her first kiss had been at this hour, she had been three and ten and he about to turn four and ten.

It is the hour of the eel when they find him.

Cold to the touch and barely alive.

The current had led him to the river bank at a distance where the water was boiling black and red over his dragon’s resting place.

“I am sorry, your grace.” The guard said taking off his helm in respect for the dead.

Aemma knows how to resuscitate a drowned person.

Every Velaryon is taught and Teora had reminded Aemma that as a seafaring people it was indispensable for them to get over the idea of putting her lips on a person and take it seriously.

She doesn’t bother undressing him with care and instead takes his own dagger and cuts the straps on the sides of his armor, she doesn’t stop until she and Cole have freed his chest from the leather padding and the cotton shirt she had mended for him yesterday.

The queen placed her hands on her husband’s cold chest and pressed just as she had been taught.

But it isn’t enough.

A Mermaid’s Kiss, some call it.

As she pinched his nose and opened his mouth, Aemma gives him what she hopes is not his last kiss.

Aemond knows he is not dead.

He comes to his senses doubled over as he expelled the water inside his lungs the same way it came into them.

Aemma holds him by the shoulders, crying in joy as Cole shouts ‘long live the king’ to their men.

They cheer for him, for them because perhaps the gods have decided they were done torturing his poor wife.

He is bruised, and while he did manage to shake off his boot, Aemond still managed to break his left foot.

If four days felt too long, six weeks would feel like torture.

But he is alive, and if he is alive then maybe Aemma can change fate.

“I suppose the Gods have declared you innocent, boy.” Roddy the Ruin says when they get back to Harrenhal.

“I never meant to kill Lucerys, I lost control over my dragon who mistook the command to chase after him for killing him.” Aemond admits and somehow these strangers believe him.

His own mother hadn’t.

Even Cole had doubted his word.

He supposed his being alive proves his innocence.

“I swore an oath on my son’s life I would not kill him, and I kept it.”

Vhagar had acted on instinct, the old beast while large and formidable, had been as old as the Doom and with age she had become difficult to subdue.

As stupid as it sounds, his dragon had killed the boy, not him.

He had never broken his oath.

Something that the Northmen and the Rivermen could respect.

Aemond only likes to be fussed over in private and while he has never been the one to show his affection in public, but he holds her hand just as he did when Luke accidentally took his eye.

The maester binds his foot and his grip on her hand tightened from the pain.

He may walk with crutches, ride in a few weeks and ,as mortified as Aemma had been when her husband asked, there was no reason to keep Aemond from his husbandly duties.

“Aegon lives. He has taken Dragonstone and demands I bend the knee to him.” He says once the pain subsidies enough to speak without gritting his teeth.

Thank the gods Baela was in High Tide and not Dragonstone. Gods forbid Aegon gets his hand on her.

“Imagine his shock when he finds his reign to be illegitimate in more ways than one.”

If the King’s Will could be disregarded in favor of Aegon, then it will be easy to disregard the Great Council now that Baela has sent the letters proving it was rigged.

Letters written by King Jaehaerys himself saying it had to be done.

Letters detailing how Otto Hightower, Grand Maester Runciter and Maester Mellos had done it.

Letters that had Sabitha Frey speechless and offering ravens and scribes to spread it through the Seven Kingdoms and across the Narrow Sea as well.

Once Aemma is on the Throne, she will codify primogeniture regardless of sex into the laws of Westeros and ensure a war like this never happens again.

And in all the commotion, Aemma forgets to tell him about Addam.

There is no good opportunity for it, she tells herself.

“Have my sons brought home, Mysaria.” The queen orders as seven year old Joffrey, the last of her children with Harwin, is measured for his coronation clothes.

He took after her, more than his brothers and sister. Had her blue-lavender eyes like Aemma and Aegon did. Had her nose and Harwin’s smile.

The last of her boys.

“As you wish.” The woman said.

“Will Aemma come too, mama?” Her sweet boy asked.

He believes he will be Prince of Dragonstone because he is a boy, he doesn’t know his sister chose Alicent’s one-eyed son over them.

“I doubt the One-Eye will let her, your highness. Not after he killed your step-father.” The White Worm spoke with a voice as soft and cool as Yi-Tish silk.

It was a voice one could believe no matter what lies she sold to you.

Daemon had challenged Aemond to a duel, not just a duel, but a Trial by Combat.

And he had lost.

A heart attack as they fought or so Aemond had told his wife while Lady Misery’s spies write everything down.

‘I lost control of Vhagar, I never meant to kill your brother.’ Sweet lies he tells her stupid daughter, sweet lies she eats straight from his lips.

“That’s enough for today,” Rhaenyra dismissed the tailors.

“What news have you for me?” The queen asked the Mistress of Whisperers.

“Did you hear? The Great Council was a sham, says so here.” The girl named Heidi said and gave Wyl the strange letter being sent everywhere at once.

It was not news to him, Maester Mellos has confessed it on his death bed, but he had not assumed any proof existed.

“I pray you can forgive, Rhaenys, but my Hand believes this is the best way to avoid bloodshed and this war I see in my nightmares.” Orwyle read to the whores who look too disturbingly similar to the Princesses he himself helped deliver.

With this letter, the reigns of Viserys, Aegon and Rhaenyra are rendered null.

The queen barely liked her daughter defying her, now this combined with Daemon’s death would be something straight from the Seventh Hell.

“What does the Shepherd say?” the Maester asked his unwitting informants.

“He says it is time to take back the realm and rid ourselves of the dragons.” Zelda said with a look of utter devotion he mislikes.

She never missed a sermon, went there in disguise because the Shepherd is fond of killing whores.

“Tomorrow we storm the dragonpit.”

[darkestspring]

For sure the blacks lost most of their allies because of gaemon’s mistake. Rhaenyra would be mortified that this bastard actually killed a child, but her husband’s grandchild.

Not to mention that she was her cousins child. Her relative, a girl who was trying to get to safety. Rhaenyra wiukd probably try her hardest to reach out but baelon ii is past the point of apologies and I peace, he wants blood. He swore to his wife that he'd avenge their daughter. He promised helaena that he'd protect their children. He promised aegon, aemond, alicent and Otto that he would end this war. He'd gift his second mother with victory and his father's head.

[synth-spinner]

oh one thing i wanted to ask you, if the superior thing happened in ps4 world, how would you go about it? Because Otto is made to be more . endearing (? i’m not really sure since i only cared about Miles) in this game esp because of his close relationship shown with Peter, do you think he would immediately try to do good or would he still have that “haha i can do what i want now” followed by an internal battle to better himself even though he did have to kill Peter for the body?? or would you completely go a different route and make it so neither Otto or Peter die in this seeing as they’re much closer here?? and would the company Otto made as “Peter” even exist in your version?? i know you really love the ps4/5 versions of these two so i was just curious ^_^

OOOOOO that's a pretty interesting idea :0 I've actually never thought abt that since I loove the 1048 canon story and usually need ps4 peter to do my silly found family ideas with my own superior (who travels to 1048 to visit with those dimension hoppers in the spiderverse comic)

My take on a superior arc within earth 1048 is that it probably wouldn't take as long for otto to stop being evil !! I always saw ps4 otto as being malicious only cuz of the errors in the neural interface + his desperation :3 if it was removed I think he could eventually come back to his senses and somewhat return to being a sweetheart like he originally was ^_^ so if he swapped bodies with peter then since he no longer has the neural interface affecting his mind and he isn't desperate to escape his failing body anymore he would calm down pretty quickly from his evilguy mode and be like oh god what have I done 💥

Plus doc wasn't like actively dying in ps4! So if he did swap bodies with peter it would not be a very good plan since there's no guarantee peter won't be able to fight back </3 so unless we change that aspect of the story he probably wouldn't have attempted to do that in the first place </33

BUTTT IF HE DID ^_^ and if peter does die and otto relives all his memories then it would just be a huge horror for that man.. he would like instantly snap out of that evilguy mindset and be mortified by what he did </3 its gonna be so much worse for ps4 otto cuz he's cared for peter for so long and saw him a son vs the default otto who. Let's be honest he likely didn't care much beforehand </3 I mean even when ps4 otto was going evilmode he still left a message to Peter saying he hopes they don't find each other on opposite sides </3 BWAHHH

So! My thoughts r that it is kindaa hard to see it happen BUT if it did it would be SUPER sad </3 so much angst potential </3 for relationships i dunno honestly! I think ps4 otto would rather stay alone and cut off from the world after he realises what he's done vs huge ego comic ock who immediately tried to make ties for his own gain </333 MAAAN now uve got me slamming my fist crying thinking abt it.. ps4 peter and ock my beloved they dont deserve this💥💥💥💥

[dulcewrites]

headcannon of everyone’s reaction when they find out fmo aemond is cheating? 👉🏼👈🏼

Sort of hinted at in part 2 but:

- Aegon is loving life bc Aemond fucked up

- Alicent is mortified bc she already has to worry about actual bastards running around (fathered by Aegon). She always had a lot of anxiety around Aegon and hel marrying, for obvious reasons. It never crossed her mind that Aemond would fuck shit up too. She’s also nervous bc she’s never had to deal with the ramifications of another family is that makes sense. With reader comes a whole nother can of worms bc of her family (hence why she writes to reader’s dad and basically says something isn’t right with your kid 💀)

- Helaena is also mortified but mainly bc she saw this coming without knowing she saw it coming.

- we don’t get this in the story but otto is livid. He doesn’t care about cheating, he cares about a disgruntled wife. Tells Alicent it to handle it before he does :///. He also knows the ramifications of not having reader in their corner. Also why he goes to her after the alaric thing and tells her girl if you want the witch dead, I can try to make that happen

- quinton is just like I knew it bc he knew something was… off about their marriage. Thinks about regicide a couple of times.

- viserys is stupid and oblivious