#rhaenicent x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hauntedfictionland · 10 days ago

Text

❝His dear princess❞

☾︎✰❛❀ Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem! Reader!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Jacaerys did not want you, or the vow he was bound to for life. Yet when he makes a big mistake, and potentially loses you for good. He realises just how much you meant to him.

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Bastardphobia, mentions of death and grief, kissing, marrage of convenience and grumpy X sunshine trope, Jace is down bad, flirty!reader, guilt and anxiety and happy ending;)

🪐𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: This is one of my first house of the dragon fics ever, so I truly hope it's not too bad. Jacaerys is one of my favourite characters in hotd after Alicent so I really wanted to get his characteristics and behaviour right. Also, I didn't like the way they showed his grief after Luke died, as if he just moved on after two or three days. But overall, I enjoyed writing this:)

Jacaerys was infuriated with you.

You—his betrothed, acted like you owned the castle as soon as you strutted in. Speaking with no formality and a sharpness in your tongue that only infuriated him further. And especially when you did not seem to care for his heritage, who he was. The heir to the iron throne. Yet you acted as if he didn't exist to you. As if he meant nothing to you.

A marriage pact with the martells was only one of convenience. You, a princess of dorne, he, the firstborn son of queen Rhaenyra. Yet, they were stuck in dragonstone, and needed support to match the strength of the green armies. His mother needed this arrangement more than the martells did, and you made that very clear by acting carelessly and so freely, like you were in your own home. By taunting him, sitting at the great council table with your legs on them, a coin in your fingertips and a smirk in your lips. He hated it, he hated especially how good you looked.

He hated being betrothed to you already.

Rhaenyra had told him martells were rather, open and modern people. They took part in adultery even after being married, especially with the consent of their own partner. He did not know how anyone could be okay with such acts. He did not know what to expect when he met you, but it certainly wasn't how you commented on his face, calling him one of a beauty. It was inappropriate, calling a prince by such bold remarks on the first meeting, yet you did not seem to care.

But what edged him to his limit was the day you called him a bastard.

Jacaerys had been worried, he couldn't find you anywhere. Not that he cared, he was just stressed you would create another ruckus. He looked around everywhere, the garden, the great council, the dining hall, your room, even his room, but you were nowhere to be found. His chest tightened, a restlessness growing in his stomach. It seemed he always felt that way without being with you for too long. Not because he missed you—of course, but because he wanted to ensure everything was going smoothly.

He was going around circles, head spinning with a feeling that made him uncomfortable. Where were you? did you flee the castle? or were so bored of him you went to the city to a brothel in search of another man to keep you company. Anger and jealousy filled in his chest at the mere thought of that.

Jacaerys did not seem where he was going, many thoughts inside his head, before he harshly opened a door to the library. And to his surprise, there you were, a book in your hand. ‘Adventures of Aegon the conqueror’, he could read the name of the book by how you were holding it. He felt he could breathe again. By the loud sound of the door opening your head flitted towards him. Your usual smirk growing up your lips. Something that made his heart flutter in a way he didn't want it to. He clenched his jaw, holding his fists in a tight ball.

“Where have you been?” he asks, desperate tone in his voice.

“Ah, Prince Jacaerys.” you smile, closing the book and turning your attention towards him. He hated how your eye lashes fluttered, your hair falling down in just the perfect way. “I've been gaining some Targaryen knowledge, as you can see. Since we are to be married, I thought I should know my husband's family. Don't you think?”

Husband.

That word rose heat to his cheeks, quickly clearing his throat.

“I'm not your husband.” he spoke, in a tone harsher than he intended, “At least not yet anyway.”

You smile wider, making his heart race. He was always a bit stubborn, and uptight. Yet you were always so carefree and light, always so kind with his demise. He didn't know what to make of it all. A curious look grazed upon your face, eyebrows furrowing. You sat up, walking onwards another shelf of books, lips pursued. Before looking at him.

“I have always wondered, hmm,” you say, your finger coming up to your lips, “do tell me prince Jacaerys, is it true that you were born out of wedlock?”

His eyes widened, “What did you say to me?”

You either did not notice the offend and defensiveness in his tone, or simply pretend not to. Turning to look at him, “I mean, all Targaryen children have white hair. Do they not? Even if they did not, none of your formal parents have black, dark hair like yours.”

His breath hitches, all of the insecurities he had contained in a jar of fireflies fled out the second you brought out his hair. A wall rising inside him. You were acting as if you just did not ask the most dangerous question ever. As if it did not matter to you.

“How dare you insinuate such filthy claims?!” his voice rises, almost shouting. Your eyes flicker surprise for a moment, before turning back to the usual stoic look.

“Ah, you are offended.” you state, as if he shouldn't be, “I meant no harm, my prince. I have no problem with you being a bastard. In fact, it only makes you more interesting. The thing I don't like is your distaste for the truth. One should own up to who they are.”

Bastard.

You, called him a bastard. He isn't able to speak for a moment, too tongue—tied. You....think of him this way too? you? he can't hear as you speak further, a ringing in his head. It only intensifies. Only when you start talking about dorne is when he snaps back from his haze.

“And I have thousands of brothers and sisters back in dorne, no one cares ther—”

“I don't care, what you dornish do back there, but here you don't speak to me with filths of a claim.” he grits, his voice cold, “I am the queen's son. And if I hear you say one word about that again, I will see you hanged.” his words held so much malice in them, one would believe it to be true.

Of course, he could never actually do that, the blacks needed martells armies more than ever. His mother couldn't afford them raging war at her and joining the green's side. And, he could never harm you either. It was just a baseless threat, one he said out of anger and insecurity. He immediately regretted it when he saw the look on your face; hurt. But even worse, fear. Before he could even begin to take them back, it was too late. Your spot, where you stood, was already empty.

You had seen him less and less after that. Of course, you were your usual self. Taunting and teasing him, but something was off. Something distant. He hated it. He hated how much he missed it. Your remarks, your witty replies, your cockiness. He wanted it back. He wanted you back.

Next time he sees you, it's in a completely unexpected place. Dragon—pit. He was about to ride on Vermax to patrol the skies, when he stops. There you were, sat on the hard rock, legs swinging at the edge of it and his dragon's head in your hands. You..you were feeding him. “What the hell do you think you're doing?!” he shouts, eye wide.

You turn your head to him, a smirk on your lips grows. You enjoyed the fact he was on his nerves, furious.

“What does it look like? I'm feeding this cute little angel right here.” you coo, talking to his dragon in a baby voice. Vermax was known for her temper, yet with you it magically dis—appears? a little bit inside him was flustered, heart beating faster than ever that you and his dragon, a very important part of his life, bonded flawlessly. But he shrugs it off, he has to. Flushing over you isn't his duty.

Protecting you is.

As much as he would like to deny it, you're his now. Lawfully so. And he wouldn't let anything happen to you. Especially Vermax. He wouldn't know how to live with himself if his own dragon were to be the cause of, of.. your demise. His throat burns, even the mere thought of harm coming to you feels as if he's being drowned to death. After Luke, he cannot lose anyone. Jacaerys cannot lose you. Even if that was the first thing he tried to do after meeting you. You were the most part of his frustrations yet the only thought when he's in his bed at night.

“Have you lost your mind?” he asks, his voice harsh, as if you were his child and he was scolding you for doing something childish.

“Have you had no fear? you could have died what were you even thinking?!” you falter for a moment, upon seeing the trembling of his hands and the tightness in his voice.

“Jacaerys—”

“No!” he interrupts you, “You, you could have been...do you even realise..”

Your eyes widened as he struggled to even breath, huffing for air anxiously. You quickly get up, walking towards him. He's so much inside his head that he doesn't notice your hands coming up his face, slinging through his dark curly hair. An act that slowed and claimed his beating heart down. Your soft palms make contact with both his cheeks, a peaceful shush in your voice and he finally breathes. Properly. He sighed, eyes closing as his hands came up to hold yours.

This, you, him? this felt oddly peaceful. This felt like home. Vermax watches the whole interaction with a quiet huff, turning away back to the pits. You nudge closer towards him, resting your forehead against his. Love. This felt like love. “Promise me” he starts out, his voice low and timid, “promise you will never do that again.” Instead of putting on a fight like you usually do, you nod, gently caressing his cheek. His head leaned further into your touch, putty in your hands.

“I promise.”

That, gives him great relief. “Good.”

Time seems to slow down, Jacaerys could count every freckle on your nose to cheeks, every small cut in between your knuckles or lips, every curve of smile you put on. And all the scents coming from your body that drove him crazy. You notice his lips still trembling, and above your judgement, you decide to kiss it better. He inhales a sharp breath as your lips touch his, but makes no movement to push you away. It's gentle, barely brushing against his. Jacaerys realised how they fit perfectly amidst his, and how much he was craving it all these months until he finally tasted them.

You slowly pull away, hesitantly. His eyes are still closed. Hands crawling up your waist. He speaks again, a whisper almost.

“I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

He's talking about the library, and you smiled softly, shaking your head.

“It's okay. You can't get rid of me that easily, Jace. Should have known that when you got betrothed to a dornish princess.”

You had already forgiven him. But he didn't want you to. He didn't want to be at your mercy this easily, not when he wasn't able to forgive himself. You, you had crept your way into his heart when he didn't want you to, and now he never wanted to let you go. It was all your fault.

“No I...” he shakes his head, “I never should have said that. Not only because it was so wrong but also because it was completely untrue.” Jacaerys swallows his breath, every bit of him wanted to turn away and never look back, but he couldn't do that. “I have been called names, about my heritage. Ever since I was a child. About my parenting and what not. And it's very...when anyone talks about it, it's like a bandage ripping off a new and fresh wound. No matter how many years pass by, it's still like that for me.”

You nod your head slowly, in understanding. This was raw. He had finally told you one of his darkest parts, his worst fears, and you hadn't run away.

“I understand. I should have never said that. I did not know it was like this for you.” He feels relief in your words.

But there was still something he needed to let out.

“But I...” he didn't know how hard this was for him until he started to actually say it, “I really could never mean it. What I said. Even if you have committed the worst treason or crime, even if you had taken my heart and carved it out, I still wouldn't be able to do one thing that might be even close to harming you. Believe me I have tried. And I have failed.”

He looks away from you, cheeks closing red. Jacaerys had just poured his heart out and gave it to you. But the chances of you, and feeling the same? were very dim. He sees stars when he sees you, what do you see? just him? or even worse? a filth in the name of a true born prince. A gasp leaves his lips as your fingers trace the outlines of his jaw, trailing down to his neck to his chest. You stopped at the red and black three dragons symbol made on the polish cloth he wore.

“Why do you think I agreed to this marriage? not because of this.” you point to the very symbol engraved on his chest, of the house targaryen, “If it was just for this, I certainly would have never.”

He turns his head back to you, confusion in his face. He also feels a bit of guilt in him. At first, he only agreed to this pact because his mother had no choice. Because of your house. Nothing else. And you're saying that his house didn't even matter to you when you agreed to this betrothal? then why? you did not even know what he looked like, and you simply agreed?

“Why then?”

That's the question that's now left in him. Why, if his house and title didn't matter?

“Well,” your lips curl up, a glint in your eyes, as a blush arose your cheeks, “From years I had heard stories of Targaryen princes. How arrogant and unkind they were, your cousins, Aegon and Aemond, well I certainly didn't hear anything good about them. And then you came. The velaryon prince, the son of the realm's delight, born with a kind heart and a fierceness to protect. I knew I had to marry someday, but I only agreed to marry you because I knew—you wouldn't mistreat me. Because I fell in love with the stories of the dark haired prince who had the most beautiful brown eyes ever, who protected his brother when he was a child himself, who stole my heart before he even claimed it.”

Jacaerys doesn't know what to say, his throat falls dry. It doesn't feel real, when he's wanted something so dearly and someone just gives it to him freely; it does not feel real. You do not feel real. But you are. He knows you are when your hands tug at his collar, his face close to you as you pull him towards you and your breath fanning on his cheeks. He knows this is real, and it's better than any dream he's ever had.

“I do not want our marriage to be an unhappy one.”

You say, a plea in your voice.

He smiles, wide. And he doesn't even have to make an effort this time, “For me, the words unhappy and you? well they don't go in the same sentence.”

That seals it for you, he can see that. As you kiss his words, an unspoken understanding and passion in it. Jacaerys realises he could get used to this. Kisses, hugs, reading each other books, waking by the warmth of your body besides his; in fact, there's no one else he'd rather do it by. And nothing he would want more.

𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑚:) 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛! 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒.

1K notes · View notes

sideysvault · 2 months ago

Text

‧˚ʚ Unwavering commitment ɞ˚‧

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!reader

wc: 1847k

Warnings: [sfw] mature themes & slight canon divergence.

────────

Rhaenyra had always kept you by her side. From the suffocating walls of the Red Keep to the isolated Dragonstone, and to wherever the vying for the Iron Throne took her: You were right next to her. A fanciful promise made in childhood had turned into an everlasting oath the two of you kept close to your heart.

However, to the untrained eye the relationship between the pair would look like nothing more than a servile friend orbiting around the all encompassing presence of the Queen. But there had always been something unspoken lingering underneath the surface. And anyone with some tact and who paid attention enough could see it.

It had all started innocently enough. As a young girl, you naturally admired the Realm’s Delight. Everyone could see the strong values and sensibilities in her that are often found to be lacking in other members of the Royal Dynasty.

As a childish friendship between the two emerged, so did the excitement before any interaction, the sensation of flusteredness whenever the two of you would touch. Your heart saw no difference between a sweet, intimate embrace or the slightest brush of hands while walking down the garden. Anything was enough to ignite agitation, and the eagerness that you felt to serve and protect the Princess transformed into something more personal, more intimate. All these feelings were brushed off as merely inocuos admiration for a girl who was brave enough to live outside the bounds that were forced upon her, a girl charming (And powerful) enough to get away with it.

Everything culminated when you gifted her a pin with your family's badge, not only symbolizing the unwavering devotion you had in her as your queen and confidant, but as family as well. Even still, you tried to spare no thought about it. It really did not matter if you were in love with the Realm’s Delight or not. Either way, the result was the same: A tight bond that would keep the two of you together no matter how grim the circumstances. A kind friendship based on respect and honesty. That was all that really mattered.

⋆

Life in Dragonstone transcurred in a simple routine. The volcanic island had a certain air to it: It was filled with tradition and legacy, which would occasionally become a painful reminder of the impossible path that Rhaenyra was thrown into, dragging you in it as well.

Still, on certain lights, when the bay is calm and the wind blows strong, the intimidating presence of old Valyria can transform into a beautiful sense of hope and possibility. Maybe not everything was lost, and perhaps there could be a future for the family that you held so dearly to your heart.

While your blood was of noble descent, power and influence had never been curses inflicted by the Gods on your family. You had taken the pursuit of knowledge as your calling. Remaining determined on learning, your closeness with the Royal Family had allowed you to remain a maiden, occasionally acting as a personal advisor to the them, advocating for the righteous path when needed.

There had been transient moments where you would almost feel certain that Rhaenyra might feel the same way you did. Especially when the youth’s intrepidness still ran through your veins. Drunken admissions, reading together in the forest, the way her eyes would trail down on your body and how her smile always seemed softer when it was directed towards you. But as the years passed, the men did too. Even Alicent, to some extent. You’d finally accepted that the Gods would never gift you with even the smallest brush of lips, or any undeviating affection. And so, you stayed by the family's side, lovingly taking care of her sons, and balancing time between your studying and long conversations with your Princess.

When the devastating war for succession began, you never left Rhaenyra’s side. No matter how seemingly insignificant your loyalty was to her during these trying times. The strong feeling of devotion never left the two of you, but the Queen had less and less time to spend by your side, filled with sorrow and duty. Those years of unspoken thoughts and undefined roles began to weigh over the two of you.

But following Daemon’s silent departure, the routine in Dragonstone shifted.

The Queen would often find herself on the balcony of her private chamber, observing the landscape that the coastal body of Blackwater provided. She figured that the mild wet air and the periodic disturbance of the water was as good as any stimulant for thought and contemplation.

On the other hand, your favorite pastime was observing Rhaynera’s dragon-like features twitch and turn in synchronization with her thoughts. The Queen was a sight to behold. With the wind blowing tiny silver hairs that had managed to escape the tight grip of her braids, her light blue eyes, ever calculating. And her painfully firm side profile that left no room for speculation.

You were a central piece in the dance of the family again. Commonality now consisted of long conversations at night, mornings filled with you lovingly braiding her hair, afternoons occupied with advising Jacaerys in whatever new feat he felt like pursuing that day. You loved that boy as if he was your own. You had loved him as a vivacious happy child, as a defying teenager, and now, as an unhappy young adult.

For a little while, you tried to mediate between the boy and his mother, but he’d never listen.nHe was a youthful man eager to help and prove himself. A dangerous combination for mindfulness. He wasn’t receptive to what he considered cowardly advice from frightened officials. You had promised him he’d have his vengeance against the Targaryen demon. After what he did to Lucerys, you’d hang his dismembered head by its silver hair yourself. But nothing could make the boy understand that before that could happen, you all had to play the game first. So you would just accompany him, give him reassurance when needed and restraint when necessary. Just as you always did with his mother. In somber days, all they both needed was someone to be truthfully kind to them. To bring some sense of normalcy and wisdom to the situation.

But offering companionship and practical support was a full time role. Even if you held no formal position in the dynasty’s structure, Deamon had unknowingly left a vacancy open. The one of The Queen’s Consort. Providing wifely duties was too much to bear, no matter how much you loved it. You had never been this close to the thing you desired the most. Being on the sidelines was much less sickening than yearning and having a taste of a precious thing that would never become.

⋆

A strangely harmonious night, Rhaenyria had asked you to come to her private chambers. By her bed layed a beautifully crafted black gown. With all the old traditional Targaryen features except for one key detail: The embroidery that was reminiscent of dragon scales was made in your favorite color.

You softly caressed the embroidery, afraid that it would crumble under your touch. You furrowed your eyebrows as you softly asked “Nyra, what is this?” Your friend gave you an enthusiastic smile as she said “You must try it on”. Happiness was not a look you had the privilege to see on her face, so you obliged.

As you undressed, the cold wind made your skin burn with anticipation. Or perhaps it was the presence of your friend that even while facing the wall you could still catch her occasionally glancing at your body through the mirror. It felt dangerous, and you weren’t sure where this was going. But one thing was for certain: If every tissue on your skin came alive with a simple glance from her, it would be the end of you if she’d ever touch your unadorned flesh. Maybe the Gods were being merciful, after all.

You stand in front of the mirror next to her, as you turn to get help with tying up the back of the gown, With a deep look on her eyes as she helps you get it fully on. You were trying to concentrate in holding your breath in, in a futile effort to get a hold of your heartbeat. You weren’t born of ash and dragon blood. You weren’t cut for games like this.

The queen was standing behind you, observing you through the honest lense of the mirror. Feeling the warm breath on your neck felt like Paradise. Until you saw the image reflected in the mirror: A scene that could only be interpreted as a loving couple. Rhaenyra seemed to be in a sort of trance; with a proud smile on her face as she ran her hands through your body's silhouette. The fabric hugged your body perfectly. Just as you were starting to feel accustomed to her touch around your waist, she grabbed something in her left pocket, and a small worn out metal object appeared. It was the pin with your family’s badge. She’d kept it all this time. Even in war, even in famine. She lovingly pinned it on your new gown and grabbed your left hand to place a soft kiss on its palm. Wearing a customized Targaryen dress was one thing, but adding your house to the mix was making you feel overwhelmed with a mix of confusion and hope.

You were dangerously close. The mirror reflected a royal pairing, and in typical Targaryen extravagance, a royal pairing that could afford to be truly in love. The image reflected a softness only reserved for our dearest. You sighed and pulled away from her embrace. You couldn’t hold it in anymore, tears began to run through your face instinctively, embarrassed and angry, you pleaded “Don’t be cruel, I beg of you.” Nyra looked hurt, but she immediately took you in her arms, trying to apeace you, but you just covered your face with your hands. The Queen, however, quickly pried them off, she was looking at you in a way you couldn’t decipher. Concern was present, but there was something else. You suddenly feel the way her breathing changes as she leans down to your face. She pushed you against the wall as she kissed you. It was heated and frantic. Filled with the powerful relieve of years of buried desire. There was no return to the suppressed modesty anymore. Your breath became irregular and your stomach turned in excitement as you explored each other.

Whenyour palms reached to cup her face, your skin came in contact with the warm tears running through her face. It was real. You could feel the warmth in Rhaenyra’s body as she intertwined her fingers with yours.

It was in her private chambers on that cold night where she filled your body with tender chaste kisses as she whispered “Always” while humming your name again, and again against your buzzing skin.

“I love you”.

Nyra had said it like an oath.

────────

Notes: This is my first wlw writing, I’m so nervous and excited. This fic is very dear to my heart. I’ve been with girls before but I feel like I can finally be open about it! Please everyone take care of yourselves and take care of each other! Feedback is appreciated but queerphobia will get you blocked! This is a safe space -Sidey xxo

236 notes · View notes