#rhaenyra finally took what she always wanted

[venusbyline]

I know you write Dark!Jace but what are your headcanons for normal Jace?

HEADCANON: Betrothal with twin!Jacaerys

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x twin sister!reader

— type: smut, fluff

— tags/warnings: female!reader, soft!Jacaerys, betrothal, Targcest (twin brother/twin sister), loss of virginity, vaginal sex, cowgirl position, vaginal fingering, fingerfucking, argument, wedding ceremony, implied Lucerys Velaryon/Rhaena Targaryen, underage sex, switch!Jacaerys, switch!reader, canon divergence (No Dance of the Dragons). no use of y/n, english is not my first language.

— author's notes: Since you asked my "normal" headcanons about Jace, I decided to write something related to Twincest, because besides being one of my favorite pairings, I also think that Jacaerys is the HOTD male character who would be most likely to marry his twin sister.

— high valyrian words used: Kostilus (please), Ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved)

❥ about me • Jacaerys masterlist • HOTD masterlist • main masterlist

• Jacaerys would make a perfect betrothed. As the heir to the Iron Throne, the prince had enough privileges to be able to marry any woman of Westeros. At first, everyone thought that marrying him to a Lady from an important house would be a good move, talking about political terms. Daemon even tried to convince Rhaenyra to betroth Jace to his daughter Baela, just as Lucerys was betrothed to Rhaena by their own choices. However, Rhaenyra had always made it clear that she would not meddle about her children's future relationships and would let them get betrothed whenever they wanted and with whomever they wanted.

• Although Rhaenyra was slightly surprised when Jacaerys told his mother that he would like to be married to you, his twin sister. She did not oppose her children's decision. She had always noticed how close the twins were since their birth, and two House Targaryen's siblings betrothing would not be nothing new to the realm.

• Jacaerys would do everything to always be as next to you as possible since your betrothal announcement. He was euphoric at the idea of finally being able to express to the whole world how much he was in love with you. He would hold your hand during dinners and stay by your side during the Small Council meetings.

• Flying together would be one of your favorite couple's activities. You would ride your dragon and Jacaerys would ride Vermax so you could pass through the skies together and then stop somewhere, a little time away from the Court and with more privacy. At first, Jace always tried to be a gentleman, chuckling when you took advantage of the moment alone and kissed him almost roughly. Jacaerys let you guide his body further away from your dragons and lying on the floor so you could sit on his lap and not just kiss him, but also rub yourself against him.

• "Gods... You are such a tease, sweet sister." He murmured as you rested your hands on his torso, your hips moving back and forth, the friction causing both of you to moan even though you were dressed in your flying clothes.

• Jacaerys tried to wait until the wedding. He really tried very well. He was a gentle young man and had been successful in never going to brothels. But prostitutes were nothing compared to you. Your twin only had eyes for you, and it was not long before the two of you fucking in secret. It started when he went to your chambers during a night when he was insomnia, managing to get through without being caught by the guards thank the Seven.

• You were horny that night. All it took was a bit of small talk between you until the night turned into sighs and low moans of pleasure as Jace sank into your cunt, his eyes wide and full lips parted, making whimpering sounds and enjoying the warm of your tight walls.

• After taking your virginity and losing his too, Jace held you in his embrace, both of you naked and sweaty, your breasts pressed against his chest until you finally fell asleep. He stroked your damp hair and placed a kiss on your forehead, covering your body before leaving, so as not to arouse any suspicions whisper. Even though Rhaenyra was not against sex before marriage, neither you nor Jace wanted your mother to know about you two already doing it.

• Free time at the library was also a joint pastime. It always started with you accompanying your twin during his study hours, helping him learn High Valyrian, correcting him when he pronounced something wrong.

• Jacaerys was always embarrassed when he was corrected, his cheeks red and a pout on his lips to try to hide his slight anger. You knew how much he pressured himself, afraid of not being a great King in the future. Some alternative study methods were needed and established then.

• "Kostilus, ñuha jorrāeliarzy..." Jace moaned tearfully, the High Valyrian pronunciation of the plea and the sweet words sounding perfect for someone who was feeling his betrothed riding his cock. "Ride me faster. I need to cum inside your cunt so bad..." Your brother grabbed your hips to help you move the way he needed.

• During the betrothal, Jace was so soft when he was fucking you, unfortunately needing to avoid love marks that would make it very clear what you were doing hidden in the free time. He also focused more on your pleasure than his own, always making a point of caressing your sensitive pearl with his fingers and playing with them inside you, until you had to put the palm of your hand in your mouth to muffle the moans, sounds wet sounds echoing throughout the room.

• When your lunar blood arrived, your twin's behavior was something mixed with relief and disappointment. A part of him was less worried knowing that you were not pregnant until the wedding ceremony. A pregnancy before the right time could cause a lot of bad rumors about the two of you. But he was also so fucking frustrated, thinking about what your future children would be like, so eager to make that dream come true soon.

• You were not a termagant couple. The few times you fought during the betrothal were because Jace was being stubborn and childish on a daily basis. If he was reprimanded at a Small Council meeting, he would sulk for hours, making you two argue because you tried to talk to him about the situation and he just gave you the silent treatment, even though you were not directly connected to the problem. The arguments did not last long, ending with Jace entering your chambers late at night to apologize, making you sigh with relief and then welcoming him to your bed so you could spend a few hours together to make up the lost time.

• We can say that Jacaerys would be extremely excited for the wedding ceremony. The more the days approached, the happier and more talkative about that your twin brother became. He had been waiting for that specific day for months like an eager boy, also secretly dreaming about a life like this for years. It would be a classic Valyrian Wedding rite and Jace would be smiling at you all the time as if you were the prettiest girl in all of Westeros. And in his eyes you really were. His twin sister, the love of his life. Now his dear wife, the one who would be the mother of his children and his Queen Consort.

[scarlet-star-witch]

The shackles of duty

Summary: In the aftermath of Aegon's fall in the Battle of Rook's Rest, Aemond envisions his future as King with his Queen at his side

Reader is Rhaenyra's daughter and in a secret relationship with Aemond

Part 2 to His Sacrifice

WC: 2.2 K

Warnings: Implied smut, possessive Aemond, kinda dark Aemond, but not really, he's more pathetic than anything

~~

Aemond stared at the plumes of smoke that billowed from where his brother and his dragon had fallen. 

His heart still raced with satisfaction, the adrenaline pumping through his veins keeping him in an almost high-like state he never wanted to come down from. His victorious smirk remained as he turned to the woman beside him who stared at the smoke with a conflicted expression. 

“With any luck, Aegon has perished, or at least will in due time.” 

She looked to Aemond, the furrow in her brow deep, betraying her indecision and unease.

She always knew what Aemond was capable of, she knew of the darkness within him, but to see it now, displayed so blatant before her very eyes, shook something within her, something she didn’t know she could feel towards the man she had loved for so long. 

Aemond grabbed her hands, holding them in his tightly as he turned to face her fully. 

“We can go back to King’s Landing. With Aegon’s state, I will be named Regent. I will sit the throne and you will be my Queen.” 

“What?” She breathed out, the only word she’d been able to speak in the past few minutes. 

“Aegon is not long for this world, surely. It won't be long until I become King. No one can deny us anything now. We can marry, you can stay with me by my side, we can rule together.” Aemond spoke with a franticness that was so unlike him, it unsettled her more than the gleam of desire in his eye in that moment. 

“Aemond…”

“We can finally be together.” He reminded her as his hand reached out to grasp her cheek affectionately, the longing he displayed tearing her insides, as if she were being pulled in two radically different directions. 

She watched him for a long moment, savoring the sight of that beautiful face she’d spent the past few years memorizing, every perfect dip and curve that never failed to leave her breathless, and emotion swelled as she realized she’d have to break his heart. 

“I can’t go with you.” She told him, her voice barely above a whisper, as if it would soften the blow, as if saying it quietly would mean it wouldn’t completely destroy him. 

His lip twitched, his smile fading slowly as he took in her words, praying he had misheard her. His grip on her hands tightened, as if he could keep her with him, as if he could forever stop her from leaving his side. 

“But…”

“Aemond, you know I cannot go with you. No one will accept-”

“Fuck what they think! You are mine and the second I sit on that throne I can make it so. No one could stop us.” 

She shook her head and moved to pull away, but he didn’t let her, his hand sturdy in hers, a look of heartbreak on his face as he felt her hesitation. 

“We are at war, Aemond. Our marriage will not solve anything, it won’t miraculously dissolve what is happening in our family, it will only create more chaos.”

“I don’t care.” Aemond spoke through gritted teeth as he stepped towards her, his hands now cradling her face. “I don’t give a shit about this war, you are all I want.”

She sniffled, bowing her head to avoid looking into his eye. It was too painful to see how she was hurting him. 

“Think about what you are asking of me.”

“I am asking you to be with me.”

“You are asking me to abandon my mother!” She yelled. 

His chest ached, the rush he’d been thriving on suddenly turning to despair as he looked at her, realizing he wouldn’t soon have her in his arms as he had hoped. 

“We can fix this.” He spoke with reverence, but it did little to soothe the storm within her. 

“Maybe we could have… but that was before- before Lucerys.” 

Aemond flinched, recoiling as if she had delivered a physical blow. 

“You know my regret for what happened. You know I would have never willingly jeopardize-”

“I know, I know.” She whispered tearfully, her hands moving up to grip at his wrists, feeling his pulse race beneath her touch. 

She remembered the night after learning of her brother’s death as she met Aemond on their Island, how he immediately fell to his knees in forgiveness, how he let her scream and cry and rage at him, how they held each other as they cried, knowing the state of their family had broken beyond repair, ruining what little chance they thought they had to one day be together as they wanted. 

She wiped her tears and with one last gentle caress to his hands, pulled them away from her, taking a step backwards before he could reach out to her once more. 

“I have to go.”

With every step she took away from him, he took a step closer, his face shifting each time she moved, his frown growing deeper and deeper as it abruptly dawned on him that he was about to lose her, yet again.

“Please, don’t do this.” 

“I’m sorry.” She choked out, the sight of him blurring as tears sprang to her eyes. She turned and didn’t look back as she climbed upon Vermithor, ignoring the pit that grew in her stomach, ignoring the voice in the back of her head that screamed at her to stay with him. 

She didn’t dare spare him a look. She knew she’d cave if she did, that she would fall back into his arms and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. 

She wiped her tears as she flew, ignoring the pull she felt to her other half as the distance between them grew greater. 

~~

A yell of pure rage escaped him as he flipped the table in his room. He grabbed anything he could get his hands on, throwing any and every object he found across the room, destroying everything in his line of sight. 

His bed was in disarray, the tapestries that lined the walls torn to pieces at his feet, candles knocked to the ground, trinkets shattered into nothing but dust as he raged. 

He only stopped when there was nothing left to ruin. 

His chest heaved with exertion as he let himself slump against his bed, burying his face in his hands as he struggled for breath, forcing himself not to let his tears fall. 

His mind raced with her words, each like a dagger to the heart, each one tearing away a piece of him, leaving him unwhole and untethered to the one thing in the world he cared about. 

Nothing made sense without her. It had only been hours and he was already spiraling. 

Simply picturing her beautiful face caused his chest to ache, as if the dagger of her words had been real, causing him to bleed and fade away until there was nothing left of him. 

He could not let this be the end. 

With a half-formed plan in his mind, he stood with haste and reached for his cloak, ensuring the hood covered his head and stepped out of his room, his steps quick and purposeful. 

He would not let her slip away from him again. 

~~

Her mind was racing, keeping her from her much needed sleep. She couldn’t stop picturing Aemond’s face, the pain she had caused him stirring her own. 

She couldn’t ignore the regret that overtook every inch of her. While she loved her mother and longed to see her as Queen, she couldn’t deny that Aemond had stitched himself within the fabric of her, he was now a part of her she couldn’t ignore. 

She didn’t quite know when it happened, all she knew was that it was too late to go back now, too late to pretend she felt nothing for him. She couldn’t move forward without him. 

She had to see him.

She hissed a curse and tore the covers off, getting to her feet and dressing in her riding leathers quickly, acknowledging the stupidity of her plan, but steadily ignoring it. 

It was easy to sneak out of the castle. She’d been doing it for years now, she could do it with her eyes closed. 

It took little time to get Vermithor in the air and on the course for King’s Landing, her heart in her throat as she flew. She didn’t know what awaited her, what danger she would be placing upon her head, all she knew was that once there, Aemond would never let any harm befall her. 

It was the only assurance she needed to drive forward into enemy territory. 

Suddenly, the bellowing roar of a dragon sounded over the din of the wind. 

She startled and narrowed her eyes, the moon providing light for her to see, but as the hulking figure of the dragon coming before her became clear, she soon realized, her eyes widening as she stared back at Vhagar. 

A breathless laugh escaped her, pure relief overtaking her as she realized Aemond was in the same state she found herself in, unable to settle for their circumstance. 

She pulled at the reins, directing Vermithor to descend, heading towards their Island with Aemond following seconds behind. 

The two mighty dragons landed and their riders met each other's gaze, the both of them taking a moment to simply admire each other, their shared smiles of equal relief and awe that they had had the same thought, the same longing to see each other. 

Her hands almost shook with anticipation as she untied herself from the saddle. 

She felt nervous, as if it were their first meeting in secret, as she approached him, but her reservations didn’t last as Aemond stepped towards her quickly, with no hesitation.

A shaking breath escaped her as she was pulled into his arms. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered weakly, her voice strained as her throat tightened, overwhelmed to be back in his loving arms. 

He shook his head and held to her tighter, softly whispering his relief to see her again

Time was lost to them as they embraced, as they held each other as only lovers could. 

“I don’t know what will happen next.” She mumbled, hating to break the moment with their reality, but it wasn’t something they could ignore for much longer. 

“I don’t either.” He admitted quietly. “But what I do know is that, whatever I do, it will not be without you. I don’t care how many times I will have to chase you down and bring you back to me, I won’t lose you.” 

“You won’t have to chase me. I’m not going anywhere.” 

His exhale of relief was loud and she barely had time to apologize again before he was kissing her firmly, leaving them both breathless and lightheaded with desire. 

His touch was desperate as he laid her down in the dewey grass. It was familiar to them, these fleeting and frantic touches all they could spare in the war that ravaged their families. 

He took her with an intensity as if it had been years since he’d felt her touch and not mere days as it had been. She felt more loved than ever before as he lavished his praise onto her, as his lips caressed every inch of her, as he made love to her with the burning passion as only a man in love could. 

Their cries of pleasure echoed on the desolate Island, their secret remaining shrouded in darkness and isolation. 

As he spilled his seed within her, his call of her name sending shivers down the length of her body, she held him tightly, wishing she could hold onto him forever, wishing she didn’t have to leave his side time and time again. 

He wasn’t quick to part from her, laying over her, his hands still eager to touch her, to remember the curves of her body in fear that it would be the last time. 

But they would never let it be the last, not as long as they still breathed life. 

He left her side with a promise to see her the next night. 

There was no mention of the throne, of titles or battles. It didn’t exist in their time together, the both of them determined to blissfully ignore the reality that was slowly crushing them, slowly pulling them further and further apart, no matter how hard they tried to fight it. 

~~

He lingered in her mind as she woke alone but sated, the phantom bliss of his touch, bringing a smile to her lips in the early morning. She could still feel the warmth between her thighs, feel the pleasurable burn of the marks he had left on her body. 

She smiled politely as her maid entered, placing breakfast down for her. 

“Is there anything else I can get for you, Princess?” 

Moon tea.

The words were on the tip of her tongue. She trusted her handmaiden, she’d never given her a sideways glance over the past years when she requested the drink. Her mother was still blissfully unaware, which meant her maid was at least keeping her secret. 

Yet the words didn’t come, a decision made in a fraction of a second. 

“No, thank you. That is all.” 

As her maid left, her hand drifted to her stomach, a smile forming on her lips as she wondered what their child would look like. 

~~

Hope you enjoyed! I have more Aemond content coming! I literally have a thousand ideas for this beautiful man, so stay tuned xx

[maidragoste]

Aerion

Age up!Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader (Daeron's twin sister)

Part 3 of I miss you

I honestly didn't think it would take me more than a year to decide if I wanted this to have a happy ending or not lol

Reblogs, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated. comments always motivate me to continue writing 🥹🙏🏻💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

The gods are cruel, Alicent Hightower thought as she watched her youngest daughter enter the throne room. The plan was that Larys would get you out of here with Aegon, Jaehaera, and Maelor but of course, the cursed baby had to ruin everything again. You went into labor and couldn't get away.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” said Alicent, horrified as she saw how the traitorous golden cloaks escorted you. It was obvious that you had barely finished giving birth and were brought here to swear loyalty to Rhaenyra. They hadn’t had the decency to let you clean yourself or wait for you to rest. Your always perfect hair was now a mess. Sweat and blood could be seen on your nightgown and legs. Not only that, but you looked like you were about to collapse. If it weren’t for the master holding your body, you probably would have fallen. Even though you wanted to appear strong, Alicent knew you and could see that you were confused and scared. No one should see a princess like that.

Alicent wasn't the only one horrified by the situation. Rhaenyra was too, remembering how she once had to bring Joffrey to the queen after his birth.

But the most shocked one was Jacaerys. For months he had been going crazy because no one could get any information about you, worried about your well-being and it turns out that you were pregnant with his child. He had no doubt that the baby you hold against your chest was his because he knew that if it were another man your family would have instantly made you marry but when it was him, Jacaerys Velaryon, Rhaenyra Targaryen's bastard, they hadn't wanted the news to spread.

“This is a shame! We are dealing with a princess of the kingdom!” said Jacaerys furiously at the guards as he approached you, drawing the attention of the court and disturbing the newborn.

“¹Ziry iksos sȳz, ziry iksos sepār aōha kepa,” you whispered, trying to reassure your baby. Jacaerys had missed hearing your voice so much but what moved him most was being called Kepa for the first time. He never thought it would be possible to have this with you, of course it wasn’t the best time being in the middle of a war and the child having been born out of wedlock, but he couldn’t help but feel happy. Was it wrong that after months of so much misery and loss, he felt happy to know that now in the world there was someone who was half the woman he loved the most and half his?

“Ñuha jorrāelagon, ivestragī nyke gūrogon ao naejot aōha chambers. Ao should clean bē se rest” Jacaerys said, ignoring the glances of his mother and stepfather. He knew he would have to have a conversation with them later, but right now all he cared about was you.

You nodded, moving away from the maester and Jacaerys took you in his arms and lifted you being as careful as possible. You felt your body relax as you rested your head against his shoulder. Finally, after months you felt something other than sadness and fear, you felt warm and safe with Jace. You needed him so much during all this time.

Alicent hated Rhaenyra's bastard for dishonoring you, with this scene everyone would now know that your son was his bastard, but as she watched you leave the room in his arms she couldn't help but feel grateful to him for being the only one to come to your defense. She knew you would be safe from Rhaenyra as long as Jacaerys was by your side, he wouldn't allow anything to happen to you.

As soon as the handmaidens left, your old handmaidens before you got pregnant, you burst into tears. Of course, as they helped you bathe you and your baby, you filled them with questions about what had happened during all those months that you were locked away. You knew there was war in your family but it was still a shock to hear about the deaths. You were shocked to hear what they did to your nephew Jaehaerys. Poor Helaena, poor Aegon. Your dear brother was the only one who had mercy on you and came to see you during your confinement. You thought he was angry with you when he stopped coming but in reality, it was because he ended up so wounded in battle that now Aemond is Prince Regent.

The doors opened again, startling you and you instantly rushed to wipe the tears on your face with your hands. Not wanting to show yourself weaker in front of Rhaenyra and Daemon. You turned around and your body relaxed when you saw that it was Jace. The maids must have told him that both you and the baby were already clean. You didn’t think he would come until later. You were sure he would be busy for hours being questioned by his mother and your uncle.

“We will marry and my mother will legitimize our son,” Jacaerys announced, approaching you with a smile, but you could still see the tiredness on his face. You had no idea how he had managed to convince Rhaenyra to accept, but it couldn’t have been easy or a pleasant conversation. He must have had to endure everyone’s reproaches. “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking at you worriedly when he noticed that you were crying.

“Is it safe for us to do that?” you asked instead. You should be happy after all, you always wanted to marry Jaehaerys but now you were just worried “Won’t it make Daemon even angrier? I don’t want our child to end up like Jaehaerys or for Daemon to end up poisoning me so you can continue your engagement to Baela.”

Jacaerys tensed at your words. And his head began to fill with different scenarios with you and the baby hurt or worse dead. He couldn’t bear to live with himself if that happened. He already lost his brothers, he couldn’t bear to lose you and his child. “That’s not going to happen” he declared caressing your hip. “I won’t allow anything to happen to you or our child. I will fight with fire and blood to protect you.”

“We will fight with fire and blood,” you corrected him.

He smiled at you and you couldn’t take it anymore. You kissed him, like you had dreamed of doing for all these months and it felt even better than you remembered. It was intoxicating, passionate, and warm. You wanted to kiss him forever, you would never get tired of the taste of his lips or his touch. You could feel his love and devotion for you and you loved him.

Then the baby started crying and the two of you instantly pulled apart. The two of you looked at each other before laughing at each other for being so scared by a simple cry.

“Can I hold him?”

“Of course,” you replied, feeling your heart race as you watched him take the baby out of the crib. You had thought that Jace would never meet his son and now you were witnessing him holding him in his arms for the first time. Thank goodness you were alone or you would feel foolish for watching with tears in your eyes as Jace held his son.

“What is his name?” Jace asked, staring in wonder into his son’s violet eyes, the same eyes as yours. That seemed to be the only thing you shared because later the baby had his nose and brown hair.

“I haven’t named him yet,” you admitted, feeling embarrassed at the surprise in his eyes. “I was waiting for you to choose his name.”

Of course, you had thought of some ideas during your pregnancy but now that you had Jace by your side you wanted him to choose the name.

“That's kind of you,” he said, feeling touched by such a gesture.

For a brief moment, Jacaerys considered naming him Lucerys but rejected the idea, not wanting his son's name to be laden with sadness and loss. His son is joy and hope in the midst of this dreadful war.

“Aerion,” Jacaerys said finally, kissing his son’s forehead, making a silent promise that he would always keep him safe.

¹It's fine, it's just your father

²My love, let me take you to your chambers. You should clean up and rest

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[hauntedfictionland]

❝a storm to remember❞

☾︎✰❛❀ Aemond Targaryen x Fem! Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: As the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and the heir to the iron throne, you are sent to stormlands as your brother to Winterfell, to create allies when you are met with him. Aemond Targaryen, your childhood enemy.

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Mentions of violence and threats, kissing, childhood friends to enemies to lovers trope, minor injuries and blood.

🪐𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: He is my guilty pleasure, man who serves face while doing the shittiest things ever aka killing. This is my first Aemond fic ever, so I hope it's not too bad, and I would love writing advices or tips in my asks or messages, so feel free to send any.

The winds were soothing, although getting heavier as Stormlands grew closer. Your one hand on the rope, and the other touching along your dragon's raspy and rather itchy skin. You sighed, as the thought of having to negotiate with Borris Baratheon, who didn't hold a single regard for your mother or any woman for that matter.

You remember your mother's words; no fighting. No bloodshed. It had made you feel strange, as though there could be a need for it. You bit your lip as the dark castle came into view, with dark clouds forming already. You did not have a good feeling about this. But you couldn't disappoint your mother either, as the heir no less. You had to fight for your birthright, which Aegon took.

A strain coming to your head at the tactics of your dragon, who wanted to fly into circles as you had taught her. She wanted to have fun, not knowing this might be the most crucial occasion of your life. When you tried calling out to her, telling her to get down to some place where you could land, she refused. She was being erratic. With a few attempts at pulling the rope, she finally complied.

“Lykiri, Tessarion.” you say, as your dragon flies lower to the ground, to make a decent landing. You smiled as she grunted, in some annoyance. She always was stubborn, and it took some time to command her.

You wondered how much time it would take Jace to reach Winterfell, a part of you was envious. You wanted to be the one to see the North, yet he was the one who got to truly see it. ‘Borros was harder to convince’, as your mother said, how she needed someone with experience in that area. How it was your job as the eldest. Sometimes you felt it was a burden rather than a privilege, being heir to the iron throne. You don't know if you even deserve it, considering who your father is; your blood father. Laenor will always be your only father to you, the one who taught you how to sit on a dragon, or the great sea snake stories.

Hate, was what you used to feel when those rumours started reaching your ears. Of your parentage. Of your mother's king's guard, ser Harwin Strong. You did whatever you could to get away from those, from him. You didn't like it, he acted much closer to your mother than a mere guard should. And jace and luke being young, didn't see it as a problem. Even looked up to him. But you didn't. You felt so humiliated, that such low born could be your father, you—the heir, you, ser Laenor's true born daughter, as you tried convincing yourself again and again.

You didn't want to be a mutt, a bastard.

Harwin Strong tried connecting with you on many levels, but you denied all of them. You didn't even want to be near him, let alone speak with him. Flaunting your power and acting very rudely whenever he wanted to make conversation. You still remember the sadness in his eyes, as you told your king's guard to take him out of your sight. A filth, you called him. All out of insecurity.

That was the last time you saw him.

And now, all you had was Jacaerys's fond memories of him, nothing more. You wonder if you had cared to hear him out even once, what would he have said?

Shaking off the terrifying thought, you open your locks on the belt on your waist, slowly getting down. The storm had prevailed, with rain pouring down your black and red polish coat. You squint your eyes, trying to see better amidst the heavy rainfall. Tessarion let out a wail of joy, she loved rain. Given her so very nickname, the blue queen. After her blue scales and orange wings. That's when you heard a growl, a heavy one. That could only come out of a large dragon.

Your eyes widened, seeing the sight of that dragon.

Vhagar.

Which could only mean he was here.

“A letter from the queen.” you say, hesitantly as still processing the fact who you were to face very soon. The men guarding the castle nodded, letting you in. It felt like a dark cloud over you, as you entered. The black walls and steel throne, with Lord Borros sitting quite comfortably. You knew he was there, swiftly standing with a smirk, you didn't even want to face him.

“Princess Y/N Velaryon” one of the guards announced, “daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

You gulp, “Lord Borros, I have brought you a message.” you make sure to add, “from the queen.” he raises his eyebrows, “Yet earlier this day I received an envoy from the king. Which is it, king or queen?”

Your skin shivered as you felt Aemond's eyes constantly on you—not once did his gaze move. You remember when there was a time, a good time, in childhood, when Aemond was your closest companion. You both were around the same age, both quiet, wise, and mature. And you both lacked a dragon at the age all Targaryen children have one. You used to always defend him against the teasing of Aegon and your siblings, scolding Jace and Luke whenever they hurt Aemond's feelings. You remember how you pushed a hair out of Aemond's eyes, after the pig prank, kissing his cheek gently, promising him that he won't go without a dragon in his lifetime. How you had seen that for him.

Alas, after the driftmark incident, you didn't know who to defend, your brothers, or his taken eye. All you knew was that after you had moved to dragonstone, all talked bad of him, and with time, you started believing them.

“The house of the dragon doesn't seem to know who rules it.” Lord Borros sneered mockingly, as you clenched your fists. This was not at all how you planned it. “What's your mother's message, girl?”

You handed the envoy to one of his guards wordlessly, as Lord Borros—unable to read, called for his Mastor. Aemond Targaryen, wasn't a person you once remembered, you once loved. In a way your family would never approve. And you fear you still hold those feelings after all this time. You wonder what your mother would say, your brothers? if they knew the ways of your heart.

“Remind me? of my father's oath?” he says, sounding very offended.

At the corner of your eye, you could see Aemond smirking, as if he already won the bid. It infuriated you, as your hands curled up around your sword tightly.

“King Aegon at least came with an offer! my swords and banners for a marriage pact.” he continues, as you close your eyes in contrast to stop Aemond's winning stare on you, “now if I do as your mother bids, which one of my daughters will your brothers marry?”

Before you could answer, he speaks again, “—or which one of my sons will you marry?”

Your mouth gaped, as his voice sounded so excited and thrilled, as if he was already imagining having Targaryen grand children. Especially when they could be potentially heirs to the iron throne. You grimaced, a picture of his sons, same as him, fat, bearded and a wild lust, came into your mind and it disgusted you. Aemond looked surprised, straying away from his smirking face. His lips had fallen down to a glare, fist tightening.

You cleared your throat, “My brothers are not available to marry my lord, they're already betrothed to another.”

He nodded as if uninterested, looking for a different answer. Eager to know about you. His head peaked forward in question, a one you didn't want to answer; whether you'll bore his sons children or not. You were just seventeen, and even if westeros considered that to be a grown woman—you were still a young girl. And believed to be as well.

“As for me” you took a breath, “I will have to discuss it with the queen. She shall consider your offer.”

“Hmm” you heard Aemond's voice, glancing at him just for a second. This was wrong, this was so wrong. Not at all how you envisioned. He had to ruin everything, didn't he? now you had to go home with a rejection, while Jace would come with more support of armies.

Everything was a mess.

“So you come with empty hands?” Borros says, angered. You sighed, ready to mount back on your dragon and fly the rest of the way in self pity. “Go home, pup. And tell your mother that the lord of storm's end is not some dog that she can whistle up in need to set against her foes.”

Your jaw clenches, in disappointment “I shall take your answer to the queen, my lord.”

This was indeed, a failure. You failed to prove as the heir to the iron throne that you were capable. Especially because you are a girl. You needed to show it, to your mother and to everyone else, that you can take on that responsibility as well as any king. All because of him. It was his fault, and he sure looked proud. You hated this, hated his cunning smile, his swift posture, his one purple eye and oh, him. Everything you hoped you could achieve, he destroyed it for you.

He sure hated you; that was evident.

“Wait”

You hear Aemond, as you halt in your steps while turning back to the gates, “My lady strong.”

Your eyes widen, “What did you say?” he knew it, how to get in your skin. The dinner, with insults about your heritage, calling your brothers strong that resulted in a fight. It was exhausting, what did he want now? after all this time.

“You heard me.” he tilts his head, “did you really think, you could fly around the realm, trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips, which makes him furrow his eyebrows. “Your brother's throne? or rather, Aegon the usurper's?”

“I would mind my tongue if I were you, my lady.”

You bit your lip, his audacity, after all he had done, to remind you of your place. As if he ranked higher than you? A beat passed by, tension thick in the air. Neither of you were looking at each other, waiting for the other to make the move. As if it was a chess board, with the winner taking all. A verbal battle. Aemond finally broke the silence.

“So you're here to usurp my brother's throne then?” he spoke with a calming chill, seeing as your eyes turned into anger, “Traitors.” he mumbled in his breath.

You control every urge to grab his collar and hit him across his face, “I am in haste. Is there something you want from me, prince Aemond?”

His head lies low and a dangerous glint comes in his eyes. You gulped, unknowing where he was about to go with this. He had changed ever since Luke had done it. Taken his eye. Somewhere, you didn't blame him. It was true that none of your brothers ever got punished for what happened, a result of your mother being the obviously favoured child. He was angry, at Luke—at you, that nothing happened. Everything was complicated; but, not unsalvagable. After you returned to king's landing, you tried everything to be nice with Aemond, to be civil, for the least. Alas, he denied all of them.

“Yes, there is something I want.” he looks up, eyes cold, “something that was stolen from me not long ago.”

A hitch escapes your lips, “Aemond—”

“You know..” he cuts you off, stepping a little forward towards your direction, “I always wished for your brother to know, what it feels like, to experience such a pain. To have your eye carved out by Valaryan steel, hmm. Unfortunately, now that he isn't here, I'll have to make him learn some other way. What it feels to have an eye cut out, or rather, a loved one's eye cut out.”

There was just the slightest bit of emotion flash in his eyes, pool of stars, in agony yet so beautiful. Your breathing becomes heavy, as you start to fear for your life. Your hands slowly pulled out your sword.

“I will not fight you.”

You intended to sound harsh, but your voice came out more of a tremble. Aemond and your relationship had gone down the drain, you knew that. Yet, was he really willing and capable of wanting to cripple you? had he started to hold such hatred for you? did he truly forget all the best memories he and you made together. He was acting like you were a stranger to him, that he did not care for your being. Even the mere thought of that sends a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Fight would be little challenge.” his voice is hoarse and cold, “No. I want you to put out your eye.”

A small gasp leaves your mouth when he pulls out his eye patch, a blue emerald stone in the place of his lost eye. He looked so very, beautiful, you thought. Majestic and soft. As even after such an attack on his face, he was born to look gorgeous, no matter what. For a moment you became oblivious to what he was demanding, staring in a trance like state. He was the epitome of Targaryen beauty, tall and long haired, pale skin with features that could start wars between great houses. Your heart fluttered and your throat became dry, unable to form any kind of answer. Aemond did not seem to notice, as he only held a sour and blank look in his eyes.

You only snapped back when he spoke again, “As a payment for mine.”

“No, I will not.” your voice is low, but clearly he heard it since something changed in his expression. He was angry. An emotion he hardly showed ever since the accident.

“Then you are a coward as well as a traitor.”

“You can't be serious ab—”

“Give me your eye!” he shouts all of a sudden and starts to walk towards you with rage, “or I will take it!”

You frantically back away, pulling out your sword on impulse. The guards coming in to shield you, as lord Borros stands up, saying something about wanting to have no such ‘bloodshed’ beneath his roof. You barely hear him over your own beating heart, fear taking over every one of your survival instincts. He orders for you to be escorted back to your dragon, as Aemond watches you exit the doomed castle. The rain has worsened, your clothes, that had been a little dried up, now went back to being wet again. You push your hair out of your eyes, raising a hand to itch your neck. Your hair was long, so it irritated your skin whenever they were soaked with rain or water.

But all you could think about was what had happened inside, his eyes, his face, all his hatred for you. Did he really want to send you harm? or was he faking? your gaze turned to the side, expecting the giant green beast yet, Vhagar was nowhere to be seen. You started to panic, if Aemond had already flown away, it could only mean two possibilities. He went back to king's landing, or he was awaiting to do something much worse. The latter scared you.

You walked towards Tessarion, her dark and orange eyes bored into your figure, wings flapping in excitement. You sigh, slowly getting on top of her and adjusting your straps.

“Sōvēs, Tessarion.”

She hears your command and swiftly takes out into the sky. She was futile and fast, if you were careful enough, you both would be able to make it to dragonstone with no harm done. Besides, rain, was her element of sheer power. You squint your eyes, rubbing water out of them as a few minutes had passed by, the storm nowhere to be stopping anytime soon. All you could hear was the flapping of her wings and the heavy rainfall that held out the dark clouds. It didn't matter anymore of Lord Borros's rejection, he couldn't be any more reliable than he already is. Besides, if you could reach your home safely, without the presence of a one eyed prince, that would be more than victory enough.

However wrong had the universe been out there to prove you.

As you were about to loosen your tight ropes, with a newfound relief—a snarl disrupts you. You looked back to see the giant mouth of the big monster in the name of a dragon, coming up towards you. Instantly you yelped, pulling the ropes sideways to avoid getting eaten. You can hear Aemond's malicious laughs, he was enjoying this. You let out a cry for help, struggling to keep hold of your now panicked dragon, as Vhagar flew around you, mouth wide open.

The rain was making it quite difficult to see, as Aemond chased you down.

Vhagar's giant claws kept trying to cut you and Tessarion, as Aemond began to mumble things in high valaryan, something you could not hear due to your panic and wanting to steer away from him and his beast. You tugged on the leash, pulling her away to the left. You knew Vhagar had a hard time with turning around, and it would buy you some time. His laugh, so cruel and emotionless, he was out to kill you. That was unquestionable. You had to get away from them, instead of processing how your childhood best friend, and the man you loved, could become the reason for your death.

A cannon appeared in your sight, and you quickly flew into the narrow path in between it. Aemond could only follow you from the above, waiting for you to come out.

“Jemēla gēlȳni enkā! Taobi!” You hear him shout, an unexpected emotion and anger in his voice. You owe a debt? No, you didn't. You did not take his eye, or tease and bully him all those years ago. In fact, you were the one who defended him. And he thinks you are the reason for his lost eye?

“For the god's sake stop this Aemond!” you shout, a whimper coming out of you. Tears running down, “please.”

Somehow, at that Aemond's demeanor softened. It looked like he was over playing with you. But your dragon wasn't done with him, instead, Tessarion disobeyed your own commands, flew out the cannon and let out a massive fire at Vhagar's face. Something that didn't do much damage. You cursed, as she shrieked in pain when you harshened the ropes to make her listen. Aemond was going through the same situation, yelling out every command in high valaryan to stop, but his dragon was angered. That's when you were remembered of your grandfather's words, the idea that we control the dragons, is an illusion.

“No Vhagar! No!” was the last thing you heard from him, before his dragon grabbed your coat with its claws, losing the balance off the seat, you screamed as you fell off. The height was above the clouds, and in nowhere will you be to survive.

Until the ocean hit your body, and you blacked out.

Rain droplets on your eyes irritated you, as you could still feel it was raining. Not as hard as before, but still. Slowly blinking, you open your eyes. You found yourself laying on top of some concrete—more over rocks and tiny stones.

A sharp pain hits you, as you realise you were having a hard time getting up.

“Ouch!” you hiss, as blood comes out of your forehead and possibly from your ribcage. With minor cuts and bruises on the tip of your fingers and lips. You were too focused on your injuries, without noticing the very familiar presence by your side. “Don't get up, or it will make whatever injuries you have received worse.”

You gasp as his voice speaks out, swiftly turning and locking your eyes with the very man who was at fault for you being here in the first place. Aemond stood a few feet away, with Vhagar a little further up. An alarm went inside you, what was he doing here? was he here to finish what he started? give you a slow and painful death? and moreover, where was your dragon?

“T—Tessarion?” you manage to whisper, the pain worsening at that. Frantically looking around. Aemond reassured, “That bundle of blue is fine, probably lurking around and searching for you.”

He tries to get closer to you, to which you quickly shift away, wincing in pain at the rocks grazing your bloodied back. “Get the fuck away from me!” you say, as you pull out your sword. Hands shakily holding it.

His eyes weakened, as if a guilt was forming in his throat. His lips parted, but nothing came out. You heard your dragon's roars, she was close somewhere. You bit your lip to suppress the pain, refusing to cry in front of him. The rain didn't leave mercy on you, as it continued to fall. You were soaked, both from the storm and possible blood by scars and fractures. If you didn't get help, you could die in a very slow way, taking around seven to nine days. Perhaps faster by starvation or dehydration—or by his very sword. You didn't know which was worse.

“Y/N..” Aemond breathes out, “I—I didn't intend to cause this.”

That was the first time in years, he spoke your name. Only your name, no titles or formality. It was raw. You didn't answer, not knowing what to make of the whole ordeal. At first he was chasing you around like a mad man, and the next minute he was apologizing for almost killing you. You tried getting back up your feet, but winced at the sheer pain that came with it.

“Let me help you or—”

“No!” you immediately shake your head, pointing your sword further towards him.

In no world will you weaken your guard, let him get close to your body only for him to deceive you and strangle you to death. Or cut your throat with that small knife of his. You didn't know why he hadn't done that already? you were blacked out for almost ten minutes, he could have easily killed you with no difficulty. What did he even want? if not to kill you then why did he do all this?

“Y/N, let me help. Falling into the ocean at such speed is the same as falling in concrete ground. If not worse.”

“You tried to kill me! why would I ever trust you?”

He falls silent at that. Unexpectedly so. You bit your lip, struggling to keep up the strong facade with all the pain masking behind it. You didn't know how much longer you would be able to keep your sword pointed at him. Your dragon is far away and no one is here to possibly protect you against Aemond and his giant beast.

“I didn't want to kill you,” he says, his voice faltering from the rain that had now soaked his entire clothes and hair, “Only scare you.”

“Well you did more than that” you bite back, a bitterness in your tone. He scoffs, “Maybe, if your young and wild dragon hadn't leashed fire on mine, this wouldn't have happened.”

A baffled scoff of your own comes out of you, in disbelief, “Oh so this is—this is my fault?”

“Precisely.”

“Fuck you!” you spat, your throat burning up at the yell. Your condition was getting worse by the minute, and Aemond noticed that. He inhaled a deep breath, preparing himself before matching up to you. You yelped as he reached over you, pulling your arms in order to get you up, but struggling as you put up a fight. You wince at the pain of getting on your feet, eventually giving up as he held on to you firmly, his hands of your waist.

You sigh, so tired like all the blood and mass from your body was being drained. You feel his eyes on you, worried as his breath was ragged. If you weren't on the brink of death, you might have realised you liked this feeling. But that moment is gone as soon as it came, you push Aemond away, roughly. This is your enemy. Not your protector.

“Y/N—”

“What do you want?!” you interrupted him, shouting amidst the heavy rainfall soaking both your breaths. “You threaten me, almost kill me, and then help me when it was you who put me in this position in the first place. I don't understand why you are here if you don't want to kill me! what other reason is there for you to do what you have done ever since I landed here?”

Aemond becomes silent, any words he could speak refused to come out. He looks at you hard, before taking his eyes off you, his jaw clenched. You were frustrated now, you wanted the answer. You needed it. He can't just ignore you after all this.

“Tell me. Why?” you inquire, again. When he doesn't answer, you furiously walk towards him, pushing his chest as he stumbles back a bit. “Why—”

“Because you didn't do anything!” he finally breaks, his voice was surprisingly inflamed with a touch of vulnerability.

You blink your eyes, taken aback, “what?”

“You...” Aemond breathes, willing himself to say those words he never wanted to say, jaw clenching, “You were my friend. My dearest one. Yet, when your brother took my eye and I was the one condemned for it, you didn't say anything. You just stood there, in pure silence. I—”

He stops himself, taking a deep breath, “I thought you would always defend me.”

You were speechless. It was true. What he said. You didn't say anything because you didn't know what happened. You weren't there. And being overwhelmed by all the shouting and bruises on your little brothers faces, you didn't know what to think. But you believed your mother. You couldn't defend yourself, he was saying the truth. You didn't have his back and that's what broke what the two of you shared. You went numb to the pain you had, or the seemingly hatred you had for him. This, this was the Aemond you remember. And you weren't about to let him go.

“I'm sorry.” you say, “I'm sorry, okay?”

But it wasn't enough. You knew it wasn't when his face fell, shaking his head and turning around to walk away from you and this. You weren't about to let that happen. “Aemond!” you called out to him, but he didn't stop. The pain was excruciating, but you needed to make this right. “Aemond!” when he doesn't listen, you take all the best strength you had left and catch up to him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around.

“Aemond I'm sorry!” you yell, wanting him to feel how much guilt you felt, “But I'm in a lot of pain here, okay? it feels like my body is cut by a thousand bolts of lightning, I can't even feel my back and my throat is burning. But still, I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I did not understand what was happening—we were both children for god's sake! but even then, if I hurt you, which evidently now that I have I mean we wouldn't be in this situation if I hadn't, I'm so sorry.”

You don't know if you made it better or worse looking at the stoic expression on his face. But you had tried. The rain had soaked all his emotions, but even then you could see just the little bit of stars in his pupils you once saw as kids. You cross your arms, feeling the cold embrace you as you shudder in your injuries and pain. He gulped, unknowingly laying his head low to avoid looking in your eyes.

“I apologize, for this. For everything. I lost my temper today. It won't happen again.”

Your eyes soften at his words, as if a wall had risen between you two again. You hated it. You wanted to break it. So you did. In a few fraction of seconds, you didn't realise what you were about to do before you walked closer to him, too close. His breath hitches as your face comes in between his wet hair, his hair touching your cheeks just slightly.

“Y/N—”

He was only able to mumble out these words before your lips were on his. So barely. He inhaled a sharp breath, hands coming up but not knowing where to go. You close your eyes and just for one moment, forget the war, the families, the armies. Just you and him. Before you pull away, Aemond finally found his senses and comes up to cup your cheeks. Kissing you back softly but with an unspoken passion. He was careful not to hurt you.

Your hands find his waist, carefully tugging at the black belts that were wrapped around it. It felt like this was what you both had craved all these years. This. All the fight left out of him the moment you kissed him. Like the sun finally just glanced one look at his star. The one closest to it. You were his sun. And he was your favourite star. You only pull away when the growl of your dragon reaches your ears, Tessarion was here. Just a few rocks away. Your foreheads were touching, and Aemond places a small kiss at your head.

“Get home safe.” he whispers, his thumb tracing down your lips.

You didn't know if you would get a moment like this again. But you were happy. That you finally got to have one taste of heaven. Your heaven. Your Targaryen. Your Aemond.

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!

[ghostssimp]

Pretty Boy //Aegon Targaryen

Aegon has always been a mind absent. His mind was mostly clouded with thoughts and he always seemed sorrow. That's what you mostly saw of him.

In the early morning, you would get up. Sometimes he wasn't even there and you found him somewhere else sleeping away. When he was there, he smelled like wine and whores. You knew from the beginning what it meant when Viserys decided to marry you to him. Aegon didn't want to do anything with you. You were his sister's daughter. His niece. And he was supposed to be the Usurper King. He took his sister's throne.

The most important part is that he didn’t trust you. You could see that in his eyes.

But he didn't care. He was hoping that you would slit his throat in his sleep. He hopped you would pierce his chest and take that damn beating thing out of there. Every night, he would get drunk and go to his whores to make you hate him. That drunk, he would lay and close his eyes in hope you would end it.

But every morning when he opened his eyes, disappointment would reach his chest. You never were in bed, your side would be long cold.

The night when he pinned you to his bed and pounded into you, he hoped you would do it. He didn't even look you in the eye. He didn't share not one kiss with you. It was all to make you hate him.

You felt pain in your body from the force he took you. He took your purity, not being once gentle about it. Not having any sympathy for you. But he is your husband. You are his wife. You are supposed to spread your legs to him.

When he was done, he just rolled off. Went to sleep. He couldn't lie to himself, it felt amazing to feel you. He hoped in the morning, they would find his King dead.

Dissapointment.

You were once again, nowhere to be seen.

That morning, you went to your dragon. A beautiful beast pitch black with gray straps on wings. Up in the clouds, it finally felt like you were free from everything. Free from the claws of The Greens.

Your heart leaped towards your mother. You wanted to go back to Rhaenyra, to your brothers. To your father. It all seems like you just could have a change of mind and fly away, but you remember the promise you gave to your mother.

Tears run down your face as she cupped it in her hands. "Mother I don't want to be away from you. Don't leave me here with them." Your voice was pleading her. As she soothed you.

"My heart hurts just from the thought I have to leave you here. But listen to me Visenya. You are the only one that can stop this. Try to reach him. Promise me."

You're here to prevent a war. And it's not doing great. Aegon is absent from you. Ignoring you with his every step.

As you lower down to the ground, you could always see on the faces of the dragon keepers that they were surprised that you didn't escape. That you didn't flee from this hell.

You slide down from your dragon and lean your head against hers. "Kirimvose ñuha gevives." Thank you my beauty.

Your dragon purred a growl to you leaning her head and nudging you. You loved her and it was you and her always. You notice your husband standing just a few feet away. His dragon, Sunfyre nuzzled his tip of the nose against Aegon.

That's when you see a smile. Beautiful smile was plastered on Aegon's face. Something in you stirred. You pat your dragons neck as you walk over to your husband, faded smile making it's way on your lips.

"He's magnificent." Aegon suddenly heard your soft voice behind him. When was the last time you said something to him? When was the last time he said something to you? He couldn't remember and it made him shocked that you even spoke to him. His eyes never left Sunfyre as he embraced the beast.

"He truly is." You heard him. When was the last time you heard his voice? When was the last time he heard yours? You didn't remember.

Your eyes didn't leave his face. To see a good emotion on him was truly rare. "You're pretty when you smile."

He froze. Did he hear you right? He was trying so damn long to make you hate him, for you to kill him and here he blew everything up, by a fucking smile?

"I wish you safe ride, husband." You lastly said as you leaved him. You knew that he wasn't bad to the core. You knew he was man starved of love. His mother never gave it to him. You knew that all she knew was to yell, scream out his mistakes and even strike a slap across his beautiful face. There was a twinge of sadness in your hear for him.

You didn't see or hear from him for the rest of the day. You didn't even think that he would come before you fell asleep. You stood by the window, undoing the last braid in your hair looking outside at silent world when you heard the doors opening.

Your head turned just a little surprise stroke you as you saw your husband entering your shared room, without any odor of wine or whores. He seemed... Normal.

Aegon found his seat on your shared bed, turned to face you. He watches your figure through your night gown. Moonlight making your face gleam with beauty your mother gave you, your hair seemed to shine. You looked too beautiful and too pure for him. He was broken. Dirty and broken from the inside. A black hole seemed to fill him everyday. It made him sick in the stomach now, to think he was ruining you.

"Why?" You heard him whisper. Your eyes found his, confusion placed on your face. "What?"

"Why?" His voice was soft, silent, kind of a broken. "Why don't you end me? Why don't you hate me? I ruined you. I took your mothers throne. I come to your bed drunk, I cheated on you and I-" He cut himself as he lowered his head down, frown on his face. "I've never been gentle with you. Why haven't you ended me by now?"

Your heart broke hearing him. You stood in front of him soon and your hands cupped his cheeks, lifting his head up. You saw pain and void in his violet eyes. "You're my husband Aegon. Everything you do, doesn't matter. You can't hurt me. I know you don't want to."

"You should've killed me."

"Can't do it. I'm your wife." He couldn't do anything to make you hate him. It drew him mad. How couldn't he fall under your pretty foot?

"Then you know your duties." He tried again, last time, he promised himself. He wanted to try to make him hate you one last time, but when a smile reached your soft features, he stopped himself.

"I do." You sat down on his lap, your legs on each of his sides, your night gown pulled up. When your lips cupped his finally, he felt like he was in heaven, something alike a soft whimper left his lips as your hands reached down and undo his pants pulling him out and stroking him slowly.

He finally starts to kiss back, his hands finding your waist holding you close. You lift yourself up and pull him by your entrance.

"Let me take care of you, my King."

[lady-ashfade]

Thread

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

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

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 1.3k

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

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

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

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

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

A hand stitched dragon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that had stopped a few weeks ago.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ceoofglytchell]

Haunting me

Summary: The Dance is over and you get summoned to the Red Keep to be the nursemaid to the little Queen Jaehaera. However, the more days pass, the more you notice a presence always lingering around you, watching from afar.

Pairing: Ghost!Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 7042 words

Warnings: Post Dance of Dragons Era, talks of death and war, underage marriage (Jaehaera and Aegon III), Reader is described to be female and to have long hair, my attempt at mystery, ghost stuff, angst, fluff, brief suggestive content (it’s about a tapestry), no mention of Y/N

Notes: This is for the wonderful @bearwithegg ! It took me a long time to post this, but I hope you’ll like it! Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy 💛

It has been months since King Aegon Targaryen returned victorious to King's Landing and reclaimed his father's throne.

Months since the Dance of Dragons was officially over. Rhaenyra is dead, the war that tore the Seven Kingdoms apart is finally over.

And then the unthinkable happened. The king was found dead in the carriage that brought him to the Great Sept. They say he passed out as peacefully as if he were sleeping. His wine had been poisoned, but no one could tell for sure who the culprit was.

Rumors say it was Lord Larys Strong. Others say it was Lord Corlys Velaryon. Still others say it was the king himself, to end his suffering.

But one could never say with any certainty.

A few weeks later, Aegon III, son of Rhaenyra, would be married to little Jaehaera, the king's last living child. They were children, innocent and frightened, who did not know the meaning of the oaths they were speaking there.

They were both no more than ten summers old, which was why they could not rule. The council took on that responsibility for them. But that did not mean they did not need someone at their side.

The Dowager Queen, Alicent Hightower, was out of the question. It was rumored that she had gone mad in the tower where she had been locked after the death of her last son. Her servants were said to hear her weeping at all hours. And when she was not crying, she was always talking about the time in her own youth when she read to the old King Jaehaerys.

Little Queen Jaehaera was all alone. The girl had no mother, no father, brother, or dragon. The war had taken all of that from her.

She needed someone by her side to take care of her.

And that was exactly why you were called to court. A young lady from a small, rather insignificant house, who had barely survived the Dance.

It was a great honor for you, as you had never dared to imagine ever seeing the Red Keep with your own eyes.

Even though times were bleak, the harvests left much to be desired, and many villages lacked young men, you were overjoyed to have been given such an opportunity.

A small ray of hope in a hopeless age.

The Red Keep was not what you had imagined.

The halls were cold and empty, the walls gray and colorless, and the people were taciturn and seemed plagued by the ghosts of the past.

Little Jaehaera quickly grew on you. Her large, amethyst-colored eyes were always sad and empty, but your heart swelled every time you made her smile.

She never laughed, but sometimes, when you told her stories from your village, you could see her eyes sparkle or the corners of her mouth lift slightly.

It was a beautiful sight that you guarded like a treasure.

You did not have much to do with the young king, as the king and queen often went their separate ways. You were also protective of the girl. The mere thought that something could happen to her sent shivers down your spine.

You did not want to know how the Dowager Queen felt. On the quiet nights when the moon was high in the sky and not even the trees moved, you could hear her weeping. It was loud, tragic, and broke your heart in two.

It must have been terrible to lose four children and three grandchildren in such a cruel way within the span of four years. The first victim was little Jaehaerys, the little queen's twin brother. Then Helaena, Aemond, Maelor, Daeron, and finally Aegon.

Her first and last.

She was only able to bury two of her children. The bones of the Kinslayer were lost forever at the bottom of the lake in front of Harrenhall, as were the bones of his mount, the mighty Vhagar.

In the villages surrounding the God's Eye, there is said to be a kind of test of courage for the younger people. They are supposed to swim to the bottom of the lake and see the bones with their own eyes. Some left a gold coin as tribute, others tried to destroy the final resting place of the prince and the dragon by kicking the bones underwater.

Depending on whose side these people had been on in the war.

Helaena and Aegon were given their graves next to each other in the Sept, so they could comfort each other even in death. It was the Queen Dowager‘s idea.

You had no connection to any of this.

You had not known any of them, had not ever seen any of them with your own eyes, and during the war, your house had been neutral. Your father did not care who warmed the Iron Throne with their behind, but only that his people were healthy and well-fed.

You had not wanted to choose either. Both sides had been right somewhere, but all that was quickly forgotten the moment the first blood was shed. After that, the flame became a walking inferno, devouring everything and everyone who approached this chaos.

You were glad you were not consumed by the fire.

"Have I already told you the story of Mattis the Foolish?" you asked Jaehaera after you had put her to bed and tucked her in.

The little girl shook her head and hugged her stuffed animal—a small cat—more to her chest. A hint of curiosity flashed in her eyes as she looked up at you.

"Well, listen carefully then. Mattis was a young man from the village I come from. He was well-read, handsome, and always quick with a joke. The young ladies idolized him, and every boy wanted to be his friend. Mattis was sure that the gods would favor him and that everyone would like him. And so he set out on a long journey to confirm his belief."

Jaehaera pulled the blanket up to her chin. "And what happened to him?"

"On his way, he encountered a group of bandits who had kidnapped a woman. She called for help, and Mattis the Heroic, as his friends always called him, rushed to the aid of the fair maiden," you continued, and you could see how the little queen became more and more curious with every word that left your lips.

"And then?" she asked you in a quiet voice. She never spoke aloud.

"He had confidence in his ability to befriend anyone, even vicious bandits. He approached them and struck up a conversation. The men fell under his charm, laughed with him, and toasted him. In the end, they gave him the woman for two gold coins and wished him luck on his journey."

"Oh no," murmured the little girl, already anticipating what was coming.

"No sooner had he set off again, the lovely maiden on his arm, he was suddenly stabbed in the back. The woman had pulled out a dagger, robbed him, and returned to the bandits' camp, while Mattis died miserably in the dirt. He had no idea that she was one of them and that she had only been out to rob good souls like him," you continued, brushing a silver strand of hair from the girl's face.

"And because he put his trust in a stranger, he is now called Mattis the Foolish?" Jaehaera asked you with a smile.

The story was dark, yes, but she liked it. You had learned that quickly after you read her a fairy tale once and she handed you a ghost story from Old Vaylria the next evening. It seemed so as if she liked the morbid and dark, which was why you had to come up with a new story every night that reflected that.

"Or simply because he believed that everyone would be his friend because he did not know any different. And what does this story teach us, darling?" you asked her as you slowly got up from the edge of the bed and smoothed out the wrinkles in your nightgown.

"That you should be careful who you put your trust in," she answered with a nod.

"Exactly. And now sleep well, my little one," you whispered to her before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

You were already halfway out the door and on your way back to your humble chambers to finally get some good sleep after your long day when you heard her voice again: "Do you... Do you think ghosts exist?"

You immediately stopped and turned to your charge, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What strange questions she sometimes asked.

"Ghosts? They are a nice thought, are they not? Your parents and siblings are watching over you, Jaehaera. One way or another," you assured her with a nod of your head.

"Good night," she murmured, turning away from you, whereupon you sighed softly and closed the door behind you.

As you walked through the corridors, you occasionally nodded to one guard or another. They all seemed tired and as if they had seen too much. The war had left its mark on everyone.

Not paying attention to who might be passing you at this late hour, you suddenly bumped into someone.

"Forgive me," you said immediately, but the man simply nodded and disappeared around the next corner without another word.

It was not until several seconds later that you realized... that he had silver hair.

But that could not be true.

The only people in these halls who still had such features were the young royal couple, and they were already in bed.

Later, you told yourself that it must have just been a trick of the light. That the man's hair had simply been ash-blond. But as you looked around the Great Hall the next morning, as most people were getting breakfast or servants were getting it for their lords and ladies, you noticed that you did not see a man with ash-blond hair anywhere.

So who was this man?

You did not want to ask around. Not because you did not want to find out, but because you were not good at talking to people. Jaehaera was the exception because it was your job to take care of her and because she was an innocent child.

Most of the time, you just felt like everyone was judging you, even if you had not done anything wrong. You could feel their eyes on you, and you hated it. You never knew why. You had always been like that. Like the young Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, you too preferred to be alone. You were better off alone.

You firmly believed that you had only imagined this man. After all, you had been tired, and the girl had just said something about ghosts before you left her alone for the night.

It certainly would not happen again, you thought.

It had been two moons since you bumped into the silver-haired man that night. You had not seen him again. No sign, not even a hint.

By now, you were quite certain that your eyes had indeed been playing a trick on you. At least, that was what you thought until you suddenly saw him again.

It was one of the few days in which the young King Aegon III was supposed to listen to some of the people's petitions. Of course, he did not do this unsupervised. He actually just sat on the throne and greeted and bid farewell to the citizens of the Small Folk who spoke, while one or sometimes two council members did the actual speaking and made the important decisions.

Hidden in the shadows at the side of the throne room, a figure leaned against the cold, wet wall of the Red Keep. His skin was as pale as the snow falling in the north, his hair as silver as the moon, uncombed and falling to his shoulders. He wore a dark green doublet, which he left open. Beneath it, a blue shirt and black trousers were visible. His black boots were dirty, and a heavy gold chain hung around his neck.

No one seemed to notice him. No one spoke to him.

You could almost say he was not there at all.

But you saw him. You saw him, and you decided to approach him with quiet, cautious steps. He did not seem to notice you, and you had to gather all your strength to finally clear your throat.

"Excuse me?" you said quietly, careful to keep your voice low so the other men in the hall would not hear you. Their focus should remain entirely on the throne.

The silver-haired man—and even in this light, you could see that it was definitely silver, not just pale blond—turned slowly to you. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he looked like he had just seen a ghost.

Perhaps he was not used to being spoken to so simply?

"I think that we have met before," you spoke when he did not say anything. "Two months ago. I bumped into you in the night."

He blinked before something like recognition suddenly flashed in his violet eyes.

Violet eyes, silver hair, pale skin... was he a Targaryen?

Somehow, he even reminded you of Jaehaera. You could be wrong, of course, but they had almost the same eyes. Large, sad, and looking as if they carried the weight of the world on their shoulders.

"You…" he cleared his throat. "You remember?"

His voice was rough, as if he had not used it in a long time, and the look in his eyes was one of caution. You could not imagine why. You did not look like a princess or one of those fine ladies who took themselves too seriously. Your dress had hardly any embroidery, and your jewelry was silver, not gold. Unlike many others, pomp and wealth were not things that captivated you.

"I wanted to apologize again. It was late, and I was not looking. I hope you will forgive me," you explained your reasons for approaching him again.

He blinked and looked at you for a few seconds before finally nodding his head: "It is alright. Honestly, I also did not pay attention to where I was going."

You thought you remembered his gait being very purposeful, but you decided not to press the issue. He seemed to you like a man who, like a bat, avoided sunlight when it came.

"You do not look like someone who would make a request," you said with a tentative smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you nodded your head toward the throne.

His lips parted slightly, and he turned slightly toward the monstrosity built so many years ago by Aegon the Conqueror himself. A true sign of royalty, and apparently, it also had a mind of its own. People still spoke of how steel rejected the false queen and accepted her half-brother Aegon. For many who witnessed the event, this had been a sign at the time.

"Believe me, my lady, I have many requests I could make. I merely do not wish to frighten our young king," he answered with a grin, which made your knees go weak for a moment.

"Why would the boy be afraid of you?" you asked him instead, genuine curiosity in your gentle tone.

The man in front of you simply shrugged and leaned back against the wall behind him. "I am not sure. I just have a feeling."

You nodded your head and looked at the small king sitting precariously on the Iron Throne, which was far too big for him and almost swallowed him. Silver hair, violet eyes, pale skin...

"Are you a Dragon Seed?" you asked him curiously, turning back to him, only to see that the man had disappeared.

You quickly scanned your path to the left and then to the right, but you found no sign of him anywhere. How could he have run away so quickly? You had not even heard footsteps. What was wrong with you?

Who in the Seven Hells was this man?

This question haunted you in your sleep for the next few weeks. With each passing day, you believed more and more that you were simply going mad. Sometimes you thought you could see him out of the corner of your eye, but whenever you turned around, there was nothing but cold air.

Even with Jaehaera, you found no peace. The little girl bore such a frightening resemblance to the stranger that you once accidentally asked her exactly how many brothers she used to have. It had been foolish and thoughtless of you, as she immediately turned away from you and disappeared into her chamber to cry instead.

She would not even accept your lemon cake as an apology, and she would not listen to any stories in the evening. In fact, she even forbade the guards from letting you in when you tried to wish her goodnight.

You felt terrible.

One afternoon, you summoned the courage to ask a member of the council what the former Targaryens had looked like. The answer you received was anything but satisfactory. They had only told you exactly what you already knew. Silver hair, pale skin, amethyst-colored eyes that sometimes varied in color and intensity, and one of them had an eye patch. You were aware of all of this.

The one person who could still help you was the Queen Mother, Alicent Hightower, but she was rather ill at the moment because she apparently had the flu.

So you were left empty-handed.

That was until you met him again one night. You were standing on the balcony of the chambers you had been assigned when you entered the Red Keep. They were apparently the old chambers of the mad Queen Helaena, who took her own life by jumping from Maegor's Holdfast.

At the time, you had asked why you had been assigned these chambers, since you were no one of great importance. After all, you came from a relatively unknown house, and your sole duty was to look after the queen. You had expected servants' quarters, not such opulence.

The moon stood high in the sky, bathing the world in a silver glow. Otherwise, the night was warm, and the sky was cloudless. It was peaceful.

It would have been so easy to find peace that night, but you found none.

Dressed in a pale green robe and a white nightgown, you leaned against the stone railing and looked down at the city below. Your hair fell in gentle waves down your back, and only now did you begin to understand how long you had been within these walls. When you left your home, your hair had fallen to your elbows, and now the ends touched your lower back.

Although the night was windless, you could suddenly feel a light layer of gooseflesh spreading across your arms and a chill running down your spine. There was really no reason for that until you suddenly heard the sound of heavy boots behind you.

You immediately turned around and gasped in alarm when you saw the silver-haired man who had been on your mind for months.

"By the gods! How did you get in here?" you asked him, placing a hand over your heart. It was racing as fast as a hummingbird's wings.

The stranger, who did not seem much older than you, seemed as surprised as you for a moment before he seemed to recover and straighten his shoulders.

"You doors were open," he said simply.

"No, they are not," you replied, letting your gaze sweep over him. You had never before considered whether he might be dangerous. You had been too fascinated by the mystery he represented.

A small laugh escaped him, and you could feel your heart clench for a moment.

"Oh, I am pretty sure they are," he said before leaning against the stone railing next to you and looking down at the city as if he were its king. He certainly looked like one.

Confused, you blinked and looked back down at King's Landing. Lights were still burning in some of the windows, but most seemed to be fast asleep. Of course, that did not apply to the residents of the Street of Silk, where life blossomed at night like you had never seen before. You had only been there once, and you did not want to repeat the experience.

"And why do you just walk into someone's chambers without even knocking first? Especially since it is the middle of the night! I could have been asleep already," you told him, and you could feel a shiver run down your spine at the thought.

Not because he might have seen you sleeping, but rather because you would not have known.

"Believe it or not, beautiful, I honestly have no idea."

You were about to respond when he turned back to you, and the expression on his face was so frighteningly real that it swallowed the words in your mouth.

The moonlight fell on his features in such a way that it made him seem almost inhuman. Divine, even. He looked like a fallen angel who did not know what path to take. He was beautiful in a way that was hard to put into words.

"Who are you?" you finally asked him that one question that had burned itself into your mind as if Balerion himself had enclosed you in his flames.

A smile played around the corners of his mouth, but it quickly disappeared. Instead, he turned back to the city, and a sigh escaped him. Soft and barely audible, but you heard it because it was otherwise eerily quiet. Other than your breathing, you could not hear a single sound.

"Trust me, you do not want to know," he finally answered.

A single gust of wind whizzed through the night, making the already tangled strands of his hair appear even tangler. It almost looked as if he had last combed it years ago.

"But I do," you replied, taking a step closer to him. Normally, that would have cost you a lot of courage, but that was the last thing on your mind. The only thing you wanted were answers.

"I do not wish to scare you," he said with a sigh. "You would not understand."

A huff of air escaped you: "Trust me, I understand a lot of things. I am not a foolish woman, for a change. I read a lot."

For a second, you thought you saw something like recognition in his gaze, but it vanished as quickly as waves come and go at the ocean.

"You are the one who takes care of my—I mean, the one who takes care of the queen, right?" he asked suddenly, at which you just blinked for a few seconds. That had been a particularly quick change of subject.

"I— Yes," you answered him with a nod of your head.

He nodded too, and while people danced and drank in the distance, the balcony of your chambers was enveloped in a silence that was not exactly unpleasant, but was not entirely pleasant either.

Too many questions remained unanswered for it to be pleasant.

"How is she?" he asked you, his voice sounding as if he knew so much more than he let on. He sounded vulnerable, almost sad.

At first, you wanted to ask him why he cared. The answer was already on the tip of your tongue, but you swallowed it down at the last moment. You did not want to fend him off. No, you just wanted to know more about him. About this beautiful, mysterious man who had been on your mind ever since the first moment.

"I cannot say. Sometimes she smiles, sometimes she cries, but mostly she is just quiet. I try to be a friend to her as best I can, and maybe even a kind of mother figure, but it is not easy."

Once again, he nodded his head, and you could see him slowly letting this information sink in, absorbing it. It seemed like it meant something to him. Like he knew her.

"I am grateful you are with her. If she were alone... she would fall apart from all this," his words were spoken with such certainty that you could be sure of one thing, too. He was not a stranger. He was exactly where he belonged. In these halls, in the Red Keep.

You took another step closer to him, until your elbows were almost touching. You expected to feel the warmth of his body, but as you stepped closer, you felt absolutely nothing. As if you were speaking to the air.

"Who are you?"

He opened his mouth to answer you when there was a sudden, frantic knock on your door. You stood there for a moment, but then reluctantly turned away from him and hurried to the door.

They were locked from the inside, as you said. There was no way he could have entered these chambers from the outside without you noticing.

Your hand trembled as you unlocked and opened the door, only to see Jaehaera standing before you. Barefoot, wearing only her nightgown, her hair loose.

"I had a nightmare," she said without you even having to ask.

You immediately crouched down and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. You were just glad she was talking to you again, even though you had made the mistake of asking her about her brothers.

But just as you were about to hug her to tell her that everything was fine and she did not need to be afraid, her eyes suddenly widened. You had never seen her like that before.

Without a word, she stormed past you and toward the balcony.

"Jaehaera!" you called after her and quickly jumped to your feet, almost tripping over the ends of your robe.

"Where is he?" she shrieked, causing you to look at her questioningly.

"Where is who?" you replied, and then you noticed that your mysterious stranger had once again disappeared without a trace. Again.

"Daddy! Where's Daddy!?" she cried, and you were at a loss.

"Daddy?" you repeated. "Sweetheart, your father is no longer with us. You know that."

But the little queen would not listen. She pointed to the spot where the silver-haired man had just been standing, and thick crocodile tears began to run down her soft cheeks.

"No, you do not understand, he was here! I just saw him! He was standing right here!"

The coin fell. You grabbed the edge of the door to keep from falling.

"By the gods..." you whispered, disbelief in your voice.

Jaehaera wept, and you understood.

The silver-haired man was not just anyone. It was Aegon II Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. And a man who should most certainly be dead.

Weeks passed, and you had not seen Aegon again. To protect Jaehaera, you told her that she probably saw a shadow coming from the curtains and that her mind was playing tricks on her. Of course, she would not accept that, and once again she ordered her guards that you were not allowed to enter her chambers.

She was angry and sad, and you understood why, even if you could not yet explain it all.

That afternoon, some of the tapestries were to be replaced. Many were more than ten years old, and the Small Council had decided to have new ones hung. In your opinion, any change was a good thing. They apparently still wanted to suppress the past—the war that had been less than two years ago—as best they could.

Because the queen did not want to see you, you helped removing the tapestries in one of the castle's many corridors. Thank the Seven, you did not have to hang any of the new ones, because that would have required a ladder, but it felt good to tear the old ones off the wall.

Simply doing something violently helped you release some of the frustration that had been building up inside you over the past weeks and months, like a gigantic wave that threatened to bury you at any moment.

"Just coming and going, ridiculous," you muttered, while you tore one of the tapestries off the wall, which clearly depicted a sexual position. Like the other ten that were already scattered on the floor. "I mean, yes, he was the king, but that is still pathetic, is it not? Oh, who am I kidding? The man is a ghost. He can come and go as he pleases."

"If I did not know you are talking about me, I would have said you were very angry about a lover," a familiar voice suddenly spoke behind you, and you froze completely.

Slowly, you turned to him, still holding the tapestry. Aegon the Elder was standing not far in front of you, leaning against the wall with a grin on his lips that almost took your breath away.

"Ever done that?" he asked teasingly, pointing at the red carpet motif.

Your eyes widened and you looked down at the motif. It showed a woman twisting in a very unnatural way, pleasuring a man while another sat between her thighs.

"What do you take me for?" you quickly retorted, heat flooding your cheeks, turning them the color of a ripe apple.

A laugh escaped him, loud and genuine, and for the first time, you saw his eyes sparkle. He seemed happy.

"I am only jesting, my dear. I did not expect you to be involved in such activities before. Although... are you married?" he asked curiously, glancing down at the motif on the carpet for a while longer, as if fascinated by it.

The way he licked his lips made your heart leap in your chest, and you quickly tossed the tapestry to the others already scattered on the floor. His smile turned into a pout.

"No, I am not married yet," you said, and immediately he beamed from ear to ear again.

"Something any man likes to hear."

Without being able to stop yourself, you raised your eyebrows and crossed your arms. "Oh yeah? And what about ghosts? Do they like to hear that too?"

The radiant sparkle left his eyes for a moment, and instead he sighed and turned away from you to take another closer look at the remaining tapestries that adorned the walls. You followed him without saying a word.

Suddenly, a chuckle escaped him, which sounded like music to your ears.

"I tried that! Before you ask: No, it didn't work," he explained, pointing with his outstretched arm at a particularly bold motif.

"Oh..." was all he got in response from you.

Then you cleared your throat in what you hoped was a good attempt to change the subject: "You seem so happy today, Aegon."

He did not turn to you, but you could see his shoulders tense for a moment before finally relaxing. "You know my name."

"I have told you before and I will tell you again. I am no fool, Your Grace," you said, sounding perhaps a little more serious than necessary. "She saw you."

"I know," he shrugged. "And that is exactly why I was with her just a moment ago."

Your eyes widened and your mouth opened and closed for a few seconds, like a fish's.

"You—you were with her? With Jaehaera?" you asked, just to be sure.

Aegon continued down the corridor, and from the way he walked, you could sense what he had been like when he was alive. Lively, playful, and perhaps a little arrogant.

You would have liked to have known him when he was still among the living.

"I just said that. Yes, I was with her. We talked, and I was able to tell her some things I did not get a chance to."

"I hope you gave her a long embrace, because she deserves it. You are her father," you said, letting your eyes roam over him. He looked so real. As if you only had to reach out and you could touch him.

You could see the Adam's apple moving in his throat as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He seemed so human, so alive, that you wanted to pull him into the throne room and show everyone that the king was still alive and that there was no reason to treat two war-torn children like puppets.

"Believe me when I tell you, I would have loved to. But I cannot."

"You cannot? What does that mean?" you asked him cautiously, yet still curiously.

Aegon did not answer with words, but simply held out his hand, as if he were asking you to dance. Slowly, you raised yours as well and extended it. Your fingers could almost touch; you even imagined to briefly feel the warmth of his skin, but where flesh and bone should have been, there was nothing but air. Your hand simply slid through yours.

Your shoulders slumped, and for a moment, your eyes filled with tears. Here stood Aegon, former king, caught between life and death.

"But at least I do not look like a roasted chicken anymore," he jested, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

You tilted your head, but he was already explaining before you could even ask the question: "My brother pretty much set me on fire with Vhagar. My whole left side was burned, my leg was useless, and my cock did not work either anymore."

"Your— Oh. I am sorry, Aegon," you said, wrapping your arms around yourself, not knowing what else to do with them.

You had once heard that the king loved wine and women more than anything else and spent more time on the Street of Silk than in his castle. So it must have been terrible for him to suddenly no longer be able to do the things he loved most. And sex, after all, can be very liberating in stressful times.

"Oh, never mind, dove," he sighed, shrugging as if it did not matter to him, but you could see the pain was still there, lingering. "I am over it."

"No, you are not," you said with a smile.

"Guilty," he grinned, turning around. "Where are you from, anyway?"

"House Butterwell of Whitewalls," you murmured, unsure whether you wanted him to hear it or not. Your house was not one of those that immediately conjures up images of a large castle and riches as far as the eye can see. No, quite the opposite.

The silver-haired man, whose name you now knew, tilted his head, and you could see him thinking hard. "My dear, I have to disappoint you, but I have never heard of your house."

"I know," you said simply, shaking your head as a gentle blush rose in your cheeks. "That is what most people say when they ask me, which admittedly are not many."

But the former king simply shrugged and reached out as if to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, but his hand slid through you once again. Disappointment settled in your stomach.

A part of you wished he could touch you. You wanted to know how his hands would feel on your skin, if his lips were as soft as they looked, and if his fingers would be warm or cold.

These thoughts were dangerous, but you could not hold them back anymore. Just like the feelings that blossomed within you and were directed at him. A ghost.

But he smiled, and you knew you were lost.

From that day on, you spent almost every single day with him. Sometimes Jaehaera was even there, but often you were alone.

He often came in the evenings, when most of the lords and ladies had already gone to sleep and you were wrapped in a comfortable nightgown. You would spend hours telling each other things. Sometimes from your own lives, sometimes they were completely irrelevant and had nothing to do with you or him at all.

Aegon now knew everything about you. He knew your favorite wine, your favorite color, silly childhood memories you had confided in him, as well as your dreams and desires. You knew his entire life. His difficult childhood, his youth drowned in wine and women, and his adulthood, which had been no less difficult.

In a short time, you had grown more fond of him than any other man you had met before, and Aegon was sure—for once in his life—that he knew what love felt like.

He did not say the words, and neither did you, but somehow you both knew.

You could feel it in the way he was always there exactly when you needed him, and he knew it in the way you looked at him. As if he had personally hung the stars in the sky and made them shine just for you.

You had resigned yourself to the fact that he could not touch you. If he wanted to, he would say so instead. Imagine me placing my hand on yours and squeezing gently.

He calls you dove. You call him king.

And when he was with you, the world seemed to be in order, even if you could not explain it.

That was until the first letter reached you. Your presence at court had attracted the attention of other houses and their sons. All of them were alliances that should be considered. All of them would give your house a bigger name and fortune, and your father would be able to provide more for the citizens. Your house would finally gain prominence.

Your father and mother were excited and happy, expecting you to make a suitable choice. A charming young man who would marry you and to whom you could give heirs. The fate of so many young ladies.

They could not have known that your heart had long since been taken, and that the only man you wanted and with whom you could imagine a life was no one who could make all this possible for them.

For the man you loved was long gone.

He found you sobbing in your chambers. You were sitting at the foot of the bed, a cup of wine in one hand and a letter in the other.

He was no fool.

You were a beautiful woman and of marriageable age. It was only a matter of time before the first men crawled out of their holes to feast on you.

It was not fair. But what in this world was fair anymore?

"Who is it?" he asked you in a calm voice, hoping he could reassure you.

"I don't know," you sobbed. "Some Lord Manderly."

He knew the name, but it probably would not be the old man he was thinking about. That would make the marriage proposal almost insulting. You were in the prime of your life, and that old fart already had one foot in the grave. The bastard.

"Aegon?" Your gentle voice pulled him out of the raging thoughts he was currently trapped in.

"What is it, sweetling?"

"Do not be mad. I will not choose Manderly anyway. My father at least gave me the freedom to choose one of the men. All that matters to him is that I choose at all," you explained, wiping the salty wetness of your already shed tears from your cheeks.

A long sigh escaped the Ghost King before he unceremoniously plopped down on the bed next to you, burying his face in the soft sheets.

Your scent clung to them, and he wished he could just lean against you, hold you in his arms, and promise you that no one would ever take you away from him.

You smelled of freedom, of wildflowers, and fresh soap. Apparently, you had bathed just an hour or two ago.

"And look, my king. Jaehaera will need her nursemaid until she is at least fourteen summers old. That is still a while, and I do not think she would let someone replace me," you said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Aegon froze.

Your eyes widened.

Your hand was on his shoulder. It did not just move through it, it was on him. Warm and alive.

Aegon did not hesitate for a second, but sat up and reached for your hand, squeezing it gently, as he had said so many times he would.

"You... You can—"

"Touch," he finished for you.

Not a second later, his lips were pressed against yours, his hands on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing small circles into your soft, flushed skin.

His lips were warm, soft, and so alive that you could feel the first tear rolling down your cheek. Then the second, and then the third.

"Don't cry," he murmured against your mouth before teasing your tongue with yours.

"You are crying too, Aegon," you replied, and you heard him chuckle softly.

You leaned back to catch your breath, but he was whining and trying to press another kiss against your lips, but you placed a finger on his lips to stop him.

"How is that possible?" you asked him with a genuinely happy smile on your lips.

"I have no idea, dove. But if I do know one thing, it is that I want to enjoy this evening to the fullest," he answered, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"To the fullest, you say? What about my suitors?"

The grin on his handsome face only widened before he buried his head in the crook of your neck.

"Forget them. Your king commands it."

He pressed a kiss against the sensitive skin of your neck, and you knew he was right.

For one evening, real life could rest. For one evening, the line between life and death had been blurred, and you had never been happier.

And Aegon knew this might be the last night he would ever touch, which is why he vowed to savor it to the last second.

Until he was no more.

The Dividers are from the wonderful @zaldritzosrose !

Taglist: @bey0nd-1he-stars @sassypain @hisfavegirl @dahaenatargaryen @sylasthegrim @danytar

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (1/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: the angst, kidnapping and imprisonment, abuse of power, violence, panic attack ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

It took him a long time to bring her to the Red Keep. Too long, to his frustration – while Aegon on his throne preferred to loudly announce to his subjects things he could not provide for them, he acted in silence, trying to ensure that he was always one step ahead of their sister-whore.

When Larys Strong's spies reported to them that Rhaenyra was seeking dragon seed among the bastards in King's Landing his brother laughed, but he, their mother and all the lords were horrified.

This meant that the slight advantage Vhagar had given them was going to be in vain, as she stood no chance in a confrontation with so many dragons.

Helaena was riding Dreamfyre, but at his words to move into battle with him she covered her ears and turned her head away, saying she would never burn anyone. Daeron's dragon was still too small, so that left him and Aegon, who was the King and could not die, on the battlefield.

That was not enough.

And then it dawned on him.

Rhea Royce must have been devastated after learning that her hated husband's seed had taken root in her womb. The whole kingdom knew that she and his uncle loathed each other sincerely, and while he stayed in King's Landing, she remained in Runestone.

He thought she certainly felt satisfaction when she gave him a daughter, although the Rough Prince wanted a son.

According to rumour, she was born accompanied by her mother's loud groans a few months apart after his own birth, and was supposed to be the reason Daemon waited with murdering her mother: he did not want the burden of caring for a newborn child to fall on him.

Though he would never admit it out loud, of the many lords or bastards born of dragon seed, his choice was guided not only by her close kinship to their family, but also by the fact that having her by his side could be a humiliation to his uncle, a show of his strength, prudence and sheer malice.

Of how dangerous he was not only because of Vhagar.

He had prepared an ambush for her with reverence, through Strong's spy network weaving servants close to her into his plan.

He had no idea what kind of woman she was, whether or not she resisted, whether or not she could wield a sword like her mother, but he received a letter weeks later that they had succeeded, and Daemon's daughter was heading for King's Landing against her will.

He felt a pleasant tingling in his fingertips at the thought of what he would be able to do with her: if he found her pretty and humble enough, if indeed she succeeded in taming a dragon, he could try to invalidate his betrothal to the Baratheon whore and allow her to receive the honour of bearing his heirs instead.

His own dragon inheritance.

When she finally arrived, she was, much to his mother's displeasure, placed in a dungeon – he wanted her to understand that her situation was serious and that any answer from her that did not satisfy him would end in one way.

Her death.

He went down to the underground with the guards and dismissed them when he stopped under her cell with the torch in his hand, its light exposed her face to him.

She was sitting on the ground with her knees tucked under her chin, her head raised towards him, the look of her eyes frustrated and grim, her dark brows arched in displeasure.

She was not afraid.

For now.

He looked at her figure from top to bottom, finding that he had imagined her differently: he had hoped to see any Targaryen features in her. However, her long hair was dark, her eyelashes long and black, like a fan surrounding her brown eyes, which were as big as those of a doe.

Clearly it was her mother's blood that prevailed, he thought with disappointment, however his face remained stony.

"Do you know who I am, woman?" He asked coldly, the corner of her mouth twitching, her gaze softening as if his words amused her, making him feel uneasy.

"It's hard not to guess." She replied without any pleasantries.

He licked his lower lip in a gesture of frustration, recognising that he would not allow himself to be verbally dominated by her.

He had to knock her off her guard.

"Do you understand why you're here?"

She sighed heavily, looking down at her fingers, suddenly tired and small, like a child who wanted to go to sleep already.

"Because of my father, I guess. You are wasting your time. I don't represent any value to him. He will not pact with you for my sake." She said, and he snorted, grinning broadly – she looked at him in surprise, as if she hadn't expected such a reaction from him.

"You are mistaken. We need your blood."

She shook her head, shocked by his words, raising her shoulders in a gesture as if trying to defend herself against what she just heard.

He liked the look of terror on her face, no doubt at the thought that they were about to cut her wrists open and drain her of blood like an animal.

"We will find one of the wild dragons hidden in the mountain caves and you will try to claim it. You will die, or you will succeed and join the war on our side." He said coldly, and she burst out laughing, as if she hadn't heard a greater foolishness in a long time, causing his jaw to clench in fury.

Stupid cunt.

"I know nothing about dragons or their riders and have no desire to learn about them. This, I think, is something that is destined for those endowed by the gods with white hair. I have no intention of sacrificing myself for your family. Behead me or burn me, but spare me this farce." She sneered, looking away, as if she thought she could get away with such impudent words.

She picked herself up and took a few steps back as he unlocked her cell and a moment later he was beside her, dropping the torch to the stone floor, grabbing her by the neck, her body and head hitting the wall hard.

He stared at her for a moment, listening to her heavy breath as if she was choking, panic in her big, brown eyes.

Fear suited her.

"Do you think I'm asking you for your opinion? You will serve me, and you will serve me well, or I will burn not you, but all of the fucking Vale. Only dust and ashes will be left of the people you knew. Is that what you want, my Lady?" He scoffed, and she shook her head quickly, her lower lip quivering all over, her small, soft hands clenched on his wrist.

He leaned over her, digging his fingers deeper into her delicate skin as if he wanted to break her neck.

"So we have an agreement, as I understand it?" He whispered, as if asking her a secret, something only he should hear.

Her eyebrows arched in pain, her plump lips parted in a deep, shuddering breath as she nodded, her warm gaze filled with pain and regret at the same time.

Was she now begging in her mind for her father to save her?

For him to come to her rescue?

The thought made him want to laugh.

"Mmm." He hummed, looking at her red eyes and full lips, feeling a strange kind of intimacy now that he could feel her veins, her blood, dragon's blood, pulsing under her bare skin.

Their shared heritage.

His seed was stronger than Daemon's, he thought with a confidence bordering on vanity.

Their children would have his white hair.

He felt arousal at that thought, his length pulsed softly in his breeches.

He let go of her, and she took a deep breath, sliding to the ground, clutching at her neck where he'd driven his fingers.

"You will be moved to one of the chambers. You will not lack anything. Serve me well and no more harm will befall you." He said in an offhand manner and simply left, satisfied with how childishly simple it was.

The women and their soft hearts, their despair at the thought that someone else might lose their life because of them, their eternal pondering and tenderness that made them so weak.

"I have heard of your success, brother. I was told we had a visitor in the Keep." Said Aegon, glancing at him, seated at the other end of the table, while his hand played with the marble green orb lying before him.

"Yes. She will obey us. I will personally prepare her." He said, resting his elbows on the table top.

The King laughed.

"You, brother? What does your beloved betrothed in Storm's End would say about it?" He sneered, glancing at the lords around them as if asking if his joke was in fact funny.

He grinned, trying to contain his anger and that familiar, unpleasant feeling of humiliation rippling through his chest.

"Who else would do this? You, with your superior knowledge of the language of Old Valyria will teach her commands and behaviour towards a wild dragon?" He asked, looking him straight in the eye.

His brother grew pale and swallowed hard, tense, feeling that he had lost this battle.

"Bring her in." He ordered.

Soon the door to the room opened, and she walked in, accompanied by the guards: she was wearing one of his mother's old brown gowns, its red sleeves reaching to the ground. Her hair was loose but not in disarray, falling gently down her back, as if she had not let any servant touch it and combed it herself.

"Come closer, cousin." Said Aegon with a smile, raising his hand and nodding, clearly wanting to encourage her.

She reluctantly took a few steps closer, looking around the assembled people anxiously, finally meeting his gaze – she stopped for a moment at his face, as if she was thinking hard about something, and then turned her head away, suddenly tired and resigned.

Good, he thought.

There was no need for her to stand up to him.

"We are overjoyed by your presence, even though you were brought here under not very pleasant circumstances. I hope you will quickly forget about these… discomforts and support us in our cause. My brother is extremely eager to prepare you for this." Aegon said, her lips twitching in a grimace that he didn't like when he mentioned him, but no words left her mouth.

"Are you not glad to face your father? Did he not forget you and abandon you for so many years?" Continued Aegon, their mother looked at him and shook her head, wanting him to stop.

She lifted her gaze to his brother-king and looked at him for a moment, her expression gentle and calm.

"I have nothing to say to you, cousin. Do with me what you wish."

A heavy, uncomfortable silence fell around them – he feared what Aegon would do with this insult – the fact that she had humiliated him by simply calling him her cousin, speaking to him without proper etiquette or manners.

Aegon pressed his lips together and leaned forward, as if thinking hard about something.

"Our family has forgotten you. Left you the fuck knows where, motherless and fatherless. And I am deeply sorry for it."

He looked at him shocked, not believing that he had said such a thing, apologised to her even though it was she who had offended him, and then looked at her face – her eyes turned red, her lips parted slightly, as if he had stuck a needle straight into her heart.

What was he doing?

Aegon spread himself comfortably in his chair with a loud creak of wood, smiling with satisfaction.

"You may leave."

He did not know why he had been furious all evening, why, bent over the maps of Westeros, planning his fucking war, he had been unable to focus or calm himself.

He knew why his brother had done it: he wanted to bond with her, to show him that he was the one she would obey, that he was in control of the situation, that he was the King.

"Bring our prisoner." He ordered loudly so that the servant who was just taking the tray from his table heard it.

"As you wish, Your Highness."

When she walked into his chamber she stopped immediately behind the door, which closed behind her with a loud clatter. He glanced up at her dispassionately and looked again at the books he had taken from his shelves, which he had often browsed through as a child.

This was his legacy, not hers.

But he had to do it.

"Come here. Sit down." He said dryly and after a moment he heard the rustling of her gown.

As she sat in the chair beside him he smelled her, some kind of oil that scented of field flowers, chamomile or daisies, and he thought that she had taken a bath.

Something in that thought, in the idea of her bare, soft body sunk in the warm water, made his manhood throb pleasantly, tingling heat spreading through his lower abdomen.

He moved one of the books towards her, open to the page on which was written what he wanted to discuss with her.

"Can you read?" He asked coldly, and she threw him a look from which he felt like grabbing her cheeks and shaking that little head of hers.

She didn't answer, which frustrated him even more, clutching the volume in her hands and leaning over it, following the text with her eyes.

So she could read, he thought mockingly.

"The dragons understand the language of Old Valyria, and this is how the dragon riders communicate with them. You have to learn to speak the commands properly." He sighed, running his hand over his face, feeling tired and discouraged.

"Dohaerās means serve. Rȳbās means listen. These are the most important words, right next to Lykirī, which commands a dragon to remain calm." He said, tilting his head back, closing his eyes. "Repeat."

Silence.

He pressed his lips together, opening his eyes, thinking he was about to kill her with his own hands.

He looked at her, wanting to hiss to her that he was going to slam her head against the table until she dutifully recited each of the words he was ordering her to repeat but his voice stuck in his throat when he saw the look on her face.

He had the impression that although she froze in stillness, her whole body was quivering, as if she was cold.

Her eyes were open wide in fear, and even though her lips were pressed into a thin line she was breathing heavily, as if she were suffocating, her fingers clenched on the back of the book.

Was it possible that she had heard these words before, had read a book similar to this?

Did Daemon try to teach her the language of Old Valyria when she was a child?

He didn't know what he should do, feeling that if he touched her she would just fall apart, so he merely looked at her, wondering how such a person was supposed to tame a dragon.

He rose from his seat as if burned, snapped out of his reverie when her eyes rolled back and she simply fainted, her body, numb and heavy slid to the floor beneath their feet.

He circled the table and knelt beside her, slapping his palm against her cheek in an attempt to revive her, but she did not wake up.

"Bring the Maester, quickly!" He called out and cursed loudly, restraining himself from screaming with rage.

"What have you done to her?" His mother hissed quietly, so that only he could hear it while the Maester examined her.

He turned his face away and shook his head, wondering if everyone in this damned fortress was against him.

After all, he was doing this for them.

For their family.

"Nothing. She was only supposed to read a few words. I didn't even touch her." He growled, his hands intertwined behind his back clenched into a fist.

Why didn't she trust him?

Why was she looking at him like this, as if she didn't recognise him?

Hadn't he always been faithful to her?

"What words? What did you say to her?"

"Words in Old Valyrian, nothing more. She must learn it if she is not to burn in the dragon fire, and our efforts are not to be in vain." He scoffed impatiently.

"We do not know what Daemon did to her. Whether she saw her mother die."

"I don't care what he did to her or what she saw." He said, throwing her a look from which she froze. "We have an agreement and she knows what will happen if she doesn't fulfill it."

"What will happen? You'll burn the Vale?" Alicent asked with a sneer, and he pressed his lips together, feeling a terrible, piercing shame.

"She will stay in my care tonight. Don't go near her until she recovers." She told him and stepped around him.

He felt as if she had slapped him in the face so he left, not wanting anyone to see the burning tears of disappointment that had gathered under his eyelids.

He didn't let them flow.

He was not weak.

He was not like her.

He was not like Aegon.

He was not like his father.

[filmsmakkari]

the tale of a princess and her fair lady

rhaenyra targaryen x velaryon!reader

Summary: The daughter of House Velaryon makes a promise to her princess

CW: None!

A/N- I have not written and published a fanfiction since I was 14... bare with and pray for me.

The chamber was silent as a young girl with silver hair knelt before hundreds of candles beneath the stained-glass windows of the starry sept. Though she had never been a believer in gods and myths before, her love and worry filled her so deeply at present that she was brought to her knees in prayer.

Lady (Y/N) of House Velaryon had been in love with Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen for the better half of a year. They’d known each other since childhood and had always been quite close. Being the only two daughters of the great Valyrian houses in the Red Keep, they’d always felt that no one could understand them as well as each other. Their relationship, which had always toed the line between platonic and romantic, had turned into an unadulterated love affair the day Rhaenyra realized that her disdain for marriage to a man had never truly been about marriage, but more so the man.

Ever since, (Y/N) and Rhaenyra had been living in pure bliss, catching each other’s eye, walking with linked arms in public, and worshiping each other’s bodies during those private moments brought on by the cover of night. In recent days, however, the girls have been slightly at odds with each other, as (Y/N)’s parents have posed a potential marriage between Lady (Y/N) and King Viserys to strengthen the realm. Rhaenyra had hardly been able to look at her lover as she could soon become her stepmother, and she didn’t want it to be more painful by prolonging their relationship until the moment (Y/N) stood at the altar.

On this day, the 13th of the eighth moon, the princess had taken a most dangerous risk in flying to her family’s seat of power, Dragonstone, to subdue her wretched uncle Daemon, who had been squatting there for a year and who had just stolen a dragon egg for his unborn bastard child. (Y/N) had gotten wind of these plans and miraculously arrived at the dragonpit just before Rhaenyra took flight. (Y/N) had implored her princess to be safe, telling her that she would not know what to do if anything happened to her. Rhaenyra, overcome by the love and emotion she had been repressing, could not think of anything else to do but cup (Y/N)'s cheeks and pull her into a kiss. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in shock for a moment, but she quickly got over it, placing her hand on Rhaenyra’s cheek and wrapping her free arm around her waist.

How lovely that kiss was, (Y/N) sighed, remembering it. Rhaenyra had left after their lips broke, and (Y/N) had been in the sept worrying ever since. Eyes closed, she murmured promises to the seven that she would never sin again if Rhaenyra was protected.

Upon hearing a familiar voice softly calling her name, (Y/N)’s eyes fluttered open. She quickly turned her head to see none other than Rhaenyra Targaryen. Her princess. The purest love in her life. Her everything.

(Y/N) ran to her lover, immediately cupping her face and kissing her fiercely. Rhaenyra met (Y/N) with the same passion, grabbing her tightly by her waist and pulling her closer. 

Two dragons burning together under the midnight sky. 

The kiss communicated everything they had been too afraid to say. “I’m sorry.” “I miss you.” “I need you.” “I love you.”

The two girls finally broke apart for air, giggling shyly in the throes of their young love. 

Suddenly serious, Rhaenyra looked deeply into (Y/N)’s eyes. A pure shade of violet only found in those with the true blood of Old Valyria, with little flecks of blue- a trait passed down from her seafaring ancestors. She then scanned (Y/N)’s entire body, her shimmering silver hair, braided at the top, loosening into long coils past her backside—the curves of her breasts and hips, the softness of her hands, and the way her brown skin shone in the moonlight.

“A true Valyrian goddess, you are,” she said.

(Y/N) looked down shyly at the compliment. Rhaenyra lifted (Y/N)’s chin with her finger and stepped closer, leaning her forehead against hers. A moment of sweetness and intimacy. 

“Kivio naejot sagon rūsīr issa va moriot,” Rhaenyra said quietly. “Dōrī jorrāelagon mirre tolie hae ao jorrāelagon issa.”

Swear to be with me always. Never love any other as you love me.

(Y/N) exhaled. “Oh, issa dārilaros. Nyke kivio, jaehossi uēpossi arlȳssī."

Oh, my princess. I swear, by the old gods and the new.

[wildrangers]

Hello i see you're accepting fic requests, i have a matt smith fic idea, can u do a behind the scenes w matt and fem!reader where they are both married in real life but they're rivals on cam, and when the scene cuts they're like all lovey dovey and their castmates are always teasing them 💟 tysmmm!!!

Thank you so much for this request anon, I loved this idea! I created an OC HOTD character for the reader to play and kind of worked her into different key moments from the show. I hope you enjoy 🙂

Tropes & Topics: total fluff

Word Count: 900

“What would you call the husband of the Queen?”

“Well, the king-”

“There it is, then.”

“...consort” 

Your eyes met Daemon’s, fury coursing through your veins. His head tilted, eyes assessing you. “That seems redundant, no?”

“I speak for the Queen when I say it is not.” 

There was a long pause as you two stared each other down before “CUT! Good work you two.”

“Darling! You were stupendous” Matt praised, walking towards you with his arms raised. Mostly joking groans sounded from the crew around you. “Oh, stop it you lot.”

“I always forget how angry you make me when you have that fucking wig on” you tease, wrapping your arms around his middle tightly. 

“I could say the same to you, my love” he chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your silver wig.

Your role on House of the Dragon was Anora, a close confidant and cousin of Rhaenyra. Given your character’s fierce loyalty to Rhaenyra, she shared a tense, often hostile, relationship with Daemon which you two delighted in playing as it was so opposed to your real-life dynamics as newlyweds. 

“Are you love birds ready for lunch now that you’ve terrorized the crew?” Emma’s voice called from behind Matt and you threw a grin their way. 

“Are they up to it again?” Harry seconded from behind them. 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to” you argued and Matt chuckled beside you, his arm resting along your shoulders as you followed the pair off the studio lot. 

“Oh, so you don’t remember the post-wedding incident?” Emma posed and you felt your face warm as the memory flooded your mind. 

“Wed?! Laenor has just died!” you shouted, whipping around to face your best friend and her apparent new husband. 

“No, cousin, he’s not dead. We arranged it so he could be free and we could marry” Rhaenyra explained and your eyes widened. 

“You let our monstrous uncle convince you of this?!” 

“Watch your tongue” Daemon replied, eyes blazing.

“Or what?” 

“Or I’ll take it.”

You took out the dagger you kept hidden on your side, “Well come on then, Daemon. You don’t frighten me.” 

“Enough!” Rhaenyra screamed, stepping between you both. “Cousin, this was my decision he forced me to do nothing. He wants to better support my claim to the throne when the time inevitably comes.” 

“He will be your ruin, Rhaenyra. Mark my words.”

“CUT! I think we got it guys, take five.” 

“My fierce wife!” Matt cheered, picking you up and swinging you around as you laughed. 

“Must you do this every take?” the director questioned, earning laughs from the cast and crew on set. 

“Am I wrong? She was incredible” he praised, placing you down and lovingly straightening the wig he’d disheveled in his excitement. 

“Yes, yes, your wife is brilliant and we’re all lucky to be graced with her presence” Emma teased and you stuck your tongue out at them. 

“The most brilliant one of us is you, my love” you tell him and are met with another chorus of groans as you giggle and squeeze his hand in yours.

“Oh! And you can’t forget the birthing scene from last season’s finale, that one was iconic.” Harry added and Emma eagerly nodded their agreement.

Rhaenyra wailed from the bedchamber behind you as you charged after Daemon. “What are you doing Daemon? She needs you!” 

“She needs someone to prepare for war, I can do nothing for her in that room.” 

“She’s calling for you Daemon, not me! She doesn’t want you to act on her behalf, just to be her husband.” 

“I am your king now!” he roared, turning around so quickly you slammed into his chest, his hands gripping your shoulders painfully to keep you upright.

“You overstep Daemon. You are no more than her king consort” you replied, adjusting your stance and fighting the wince of pain wracking your system.

Matt’s face completely broke, false anger draining from it, “Love, are you alright? I’m sorry everyone but she’s injured, we have to cut.” 

“Matt, it’s fine I could have finished the scene” you insisted but your argument fell flat as your ankle rolled out from beneath you. 

He didn’t hesitate, one arm gripping under your knees, the other under your arms to lift you off your feet. “Where’s the medic?!” 

“Matthew, it’s a twisted ankle, not a mortal wound” you assured but his face was panicked. “Hey, look at me” you said firmly, hand cupping his cheek. His hazel eyes met yours and you could see him fighting to control his fear that you were seriously injured. 

“I’m not putting you down until someone’s looked at your ankle” he insisted and you nodded your agreement. “I’m so, so sorry darling.”

“It was an accident, I’m fine, I promise” you replied, pulling his face down to yours for a brief kiss. 

“We have to release this as a blooper, the fans will eat it up!” you heard Emma call as Matt carried you off set towards the medic tent with the cameras still rolling.

“How could we forget? It went absolutely viral” Matt groaned and you laughed, pinching his side.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get charged with spousal abuse” you tease and he rolls his eyes as the others laugh. 

“Keep it going, I’ll just save up my annoyance with you for when we’re back on set.”

matt smith taglist: @slayraxes-blogs @littlehorrorlover

I'm always happy to hear any feedback, message me if you want to get added to the taglist! I have a few more asks waiting that will be out soon 🫶🏻

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ I am yours and you are mine, whatever may come ⭑

Masterlist

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x sister!wife!reader (characters are +18)

Summary: after your mother Rhaenyra ascended the iron throne you were finally able to wed your betrothed. But with a royal wedding comes a bedding ceremony.

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, smut, vaginal sex, making out, handjob, grinding, humping, creampie.

Word count: 2.2k

You anxiously played with your hair as one of your handmaidens braided it. Your other handmaiden standing in front of you, adding the accessories to your beautiful ivory gown. Today was your wedding day. It was a joyous day in King’s Landing, your mother, the queen,  having ascended the iron throne and having slayed your traitorous uncle, she could finally rule. You were already betrothed to your brother Jacaerys before the war but the wedding was put on hold because of the events. But today was the day, you were nervous but also excited. After 7 days of celebrations the royal wedding would take place, in the very room the iron throne was in. After some time of preparing you were ready to head down to the doors that led to the throne room. As you stood there nervously waiting for the doors to open you felt a hand on your shoulder, your step father prince Daemon would walk you down the aisle. He offered his arm with a smile and when you took it the doors opened revealing the huge room decorated with candles, feathers and flowers. And not to mention the hundreds of people from court within. Your eyes immediately shot to the end of the aisle where your soon to be husband stood next to the high septon who would be officiating. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Daemon started walking, all the eyes in the room were on you, soft gasps all around at the sight of your beautiful dress and hair. You walked alongside Daemon down the aisle and when you reached the end, Jace took your hand so Daemon could join your mother and brothers at the base of the steps. Jace walked you up the few steps to where the high septon stood. Both of you taking each other's hands and giving each other a nervous smile. Then the high septon spoke. “The love of The Seven is holy and eternal. Source of life and love. We stand here today in thanks and praise to join two souls as one. Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger hear now their vows.” You kissed Jace’s cheek before he spoke. “I am yours and you are mine. Whatever may come.” Then you repeated the words. “I am yours and you are mine. Whatever may come.” You smiled, which was returned by Jace. The high septon continued. “Here in the presence of gods and men, I proclaim Jacaerys of house Velaryon, (Y/N) of house Velaryon to be man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” The septon ended. Jace gave you a light kiss on your lips and the room disrupted with applause. You both looked at your mother, brothers and Daemon, and they smiled. Then Jace took your hand and walked you down the steps, now the celebrations could begin. 

After hours of dancing, feasting and entertaining your guests you started getting nervous for the next part of the wedding, the bedding ceremony. Even though the old tradition of people “making sure” the ceremony actually took place was dropped years ago, it still scared you. You knew the basics of it, of course. But still, you didn’t know what it would actually be like and it made you nervous. Obviously Jace was a sweetheart and would take care of you, so you expected it to still be a positive occurrence. What you didn’t know was if Jace had any experience already, of course as a man he was allowed to bed whomever, whenever he wanted but you always thought it didn’t fit his character, and he rarely left the Red Keep, so you decided you were both clueless, which made it a little less intimidating. Jace sat beside you at the large table in front of the guests. Your family all sitting next to you two. And alas the feast was declared over by the queen and you and your new husband left the room to his bedchamber.

His bedchamber was a place you have been to many times before but now it was different, you were going there with a completely different intention. An intention that made the heat pool in your belly. As if Jacaerys read your thoughts he asked “Are you alright? It’s okay to be nervous, I’m nervous too.” You were glad that even though wine was poured as water tonight, he didn’t overflow his cups. Wanting to be sober with just enough of a buzz for confidence. “I’m alright, yes, but I am nervous. Ha- have you had any...well experience?” You asked him anxiously, getting ever closer to his bedchamber. “No not really, I wanted to save myself for marriage too, it’s only fair. And I have to admit that I also didn’t want to uhm- father bastards, you know.” He explained, grabbing your hand and ordering the guards by his door to leave you, you both certainly did not want anyone listening in. As he led you inside your nervousness grew and you started to feel hot all over your body, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. 

“Jace, do you know...well you know, how to do this?” You asked him, looking him in his beautiful chocolate eyes. “The basics, yes, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to never hurt you, and if you want to stop you can always just tell me, okay?” He told you sweetly, as he put his hands on your waist, taking in your beautiful figure. “Okay, I trust you.” You mumbled putting your hands on his chest. He looked in your eyes and brought his lips closer to yours. You could feel his warm breath on your lips and you slightly parted them, waiting for him to close the gap. At last his big soft lips were on yours, the moment heating by the second and you grabbed his brown hair slightly tugging at the roots, which earned you a groan from him. He then walked you back towards his bed pushing you down before confirming you were still okay with it. 

After you told him it was okay he immediately had his lips on yours again, his tongue now asking for permission to enter. Something that you eagerly permitted, as his tongue came in touch with yours, you softly moaned in his mouth. You could feel your wetness between your thighs and you wanted him to touch you so badly. “Jace, please touch me, just touch me, anywhere.” You begged as you removed your lips from his for but a mere moment. “Anything for my wife.” He muttered. He kissed your cheek and started removing your dress and undergarments. After he undressed you he started removing his own clothes as well. And holy fuck did he look good, his toned abs, his biceps, you didn’t know your husband was this well gifted under his clothes. But as you observed him, your eyes landed on his already hard cock, glistening with precum at the tip. He was big, at least you assumed that he was bigger than other men, he sure looked like it. 

Jace saw you observing him and smiled. “I hope I am not disappointing you my love.” You looked at his face again and a blush spread across your face. “No no, not at all. You are incredibly handsome Jace.” You admitted, he grabbed your face again and kissed you deeply. You moved your hands over his toned chest, which made Jace groan against your lips. “Let me touch you Jace, please.” You pleaded with him, you wanted nothing more than to wrap your hands around his slightly dripping cock. “Of course, please touch me.” He moaned at your touch and you started to move your hand experimentally. Gripping him sometimes harder and sometimes softer again to test how he would react and what he would like best. A firmer grip clearly got the best reaction so you firmly started jerking him off until he begged you to stop. “Why? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You asked him nervously, had you grabbed him too hard and hurt him? “No no not at all, it’s just- if you had continued... I would’ve... finished too early.” He smiled awkwardly. 

“Oh- of course, I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you feel good.” You smiled. “Ooh fuck.” He mumbled to himself, loving the way you said that. “And it did feel really good, I promise but I need to make you feel good now. So that I might prepare you for...the actual activity.” He expressed. You smiled at him and he pushed you to lay down, while trying to remember the words of the book he had read about sex he decided that he would be better off experimenting himself to see what made you tick. So he slid his hand up your thigh and touched the mound between your legs softly. He decided that that was the right move as you moaned at his touch. Again he touched you only this time he added a bit more pressure and moved to try and find the spot that made you moan the loudest. Then he found it, the nub that made you moan his name in pleasure. “Yes- please- right there Jace.” You moaned, grabbing his wrist out of want. 

He smiled to himself and felt himself become even harder, unable to stop himself he began humping the bed softly while rubbing circles on your clit at the same time. He joined you in your moans and soon you trapped his hand between your legs when you closed your thighs shut as you came, feeling the wetness gushing out of you, almost screaming your husband's name. Jace stopped moving to avoid cumming and removed his hand when you had calmed down and opened your legs again. “That was amazing Jace, I think I’m...prepared enough now.” You smiled hazily at him. “Alright, as you wish.” He said before moving his hips close to yours, gripping is cock and sliding his tip across your slit, trying to find your entrance. When he slipped in, you both let out a moan. He stayed still for some time to let you get used to his size. After a while he moved deeper into your wet cunt making him moan again, never in his life could he have imagined the pleasure, finally understanding why men are so desperate for it. 

“Are you alright? Can I start moving?” He asked you not sure if you had adjusted enough. “Yes I’m okay, it doesn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would.” You reassured him, it was indeed better than you thought. So he started moving his hips slowly, grinding against you while trying not to moan too loud, he was clearly in heaven. After a couple of thrusts he began moving faster not being able to help himself, you just felt too good. “Oh Jace, yes- you feel so good.” You moaned his thrusts starting to feel better each time he moved in and out of you. Jace then moved closer against you, pressing his chest against yours, burying his face in your neck, now absolutely pounding into you hard. He couldn’t help but moan your name over and over again against your neck. 

But he really did it when he moved to be hitting you right against the spongy spot that made you scream for more. You begged him to finish inside you, all you could feel, see and smell was Jace. He was filling your every sense. The slapping of your skin and your moans surely to be heard in the halls, but you were too focused on Jace and chasing your own high to notice. Jace’s balls pounded against your ass and even that felt good. You could tell by his moaning, stuttering and heavy breathing that he was getting close to his release. Luckily you were dangerously close yourself, and this time it felt different somehow, like it was going to be more consuming. You moaned Jace’s name at every thrust and he started to get sloppier. Just as he was about to cum you felt yourself squirting hard, soaking the sheets underneath you, you arched your back and your hands gripped on to the mattress for dear life, screaming your husband's name. Your walls tightening around him made him fill you with his seed, as he moaned loudly. You gasped for air as you had apparently been holding your breath due to the intensity of your release. Confused as to what just happened. 

Jace kissed your neck and moved to your side to hold you in his arms. “What just happened?” You asked him, slightly embarrassed at the soaked sheets. “It’s okay, I read that it can happen when women feel extremely good, so it’s quite the compliment I suppose.” He grinned. You smiled at him and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close. “I love you Jace.” You said, kissing his cheek. “I love you too, my beautiful wife.” He said, stroking your hair. You definitely didn’t need to be nervous anymore and you knew for sure this would become a frequent activity.

[the-fiction-witch]

Needs

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Alena Targaryen (Rhaenyra's Daughter, Aegons Wife) Rating - Smutty / Flirty Word Count - 1650

Aegon sat in his chambers of course drinking and sulking as usual,

Alena marched into the chamber in her usual emerald gown with small black accents, her hair in a long braid, "Some men would be thankful, even joyous to see their wives alive" she glared a little,

"I might." Aegon spat in response before he finally gave his gaze upon her person, taking in her hair and figure. He could recall the memories of the previous nights they spent in the same chambers. "I trust the island was well while you were there, and your mother is still as insufferable as always." He said with his usual air of arrogance,

"Mother was mother planning endlessly, Daemon taking well to fatherly life, Jacaerys struggling with his high valerian, Lucaerys struggling with puberty, the twins reckless and the new babies adorable. All of which send their pleasties” she explained as she took a goblet from the table and filled her goblet with the wine Aegon has been drinking as she spoke finally collapsing down in the chair by the fire,

Aegon’s attention was peaked as Alena mentioned the new babes but he didn’t want it to become evident that he cared. So instead he poured himself another drink, taking a few sips before he answered in a dry tone. “I’m not too interested in your family on Dragonstone nor am I interested in my sister's bastards.” He said with a slight scowl. In truth, none of his ire was towards Alena, just the fact that he had been alone for the past few weeks.

“I lied. Gave them your pleasnties” she chuckled sipping her wine

Aegon raised an eyebrow as she spoke, taking a few steps until he hovered just above her at the fireplace. He couldn't help but admire her in this moment, her emerald-green gown was hugging her form, and her hair was braided and fell over her shoulders, gently tickling her collarbone. “Did you?” He said with an amused chuckle, setting his goblet down next to hers as he took a seat on the arm of the chair she sat in.

“I did. Your be surprised how often I lie for you”

Aegon let out a chuckle though the way she spoke didn't go unnoticed. He could hear the disdain in her voice that told him she didn't enjoy doing such things, yet the fact she did so anyway made him admire her. “Well then…” He reached out and took her hand, gently tracing his fingers over her knuckles with his thumb. He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers. They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping on their drinks before Aegon finally spoke up. “I had grown used to your presence at my side and your absence made me irritated at times.” He spoke softly, his thumb still tracing the back of her hand. He felt more vulnerable when he was around Alena but it made him want to tell her the truth in his thoughts.

“is that your way of saying you missed me?” She raised an eyebrow

Aegon rolled his eyes as he gave her a teasing smile. “Missed you is a strong word…” He looked down at their intertwined hands and the way the flames of the fire flickered across their skin. “But I admit I felt your absence when you were gone.” He finally said, looking back up at her.

“as did I…” She said “But... I wanted a word”

Aegon nodded to show her he was listening, raising an eyebrow in curiosity as he spoke. “And what would you like to speak about?” Aegon asked, taking a small sip of his wine before giving her his undivided attention.

“Rhaenyra As it stands is still your father's heir. Even is president and I'm sure the realm's preference is for you to sit on the throne when viserys passes... Which we both know is happening sooner than later”

Aegon nodded in agreement with her as she spoke, already knowing where this conversation was going. He finished his drink from his cup before he spoke, “Yes, I’m sure you’ve already taken the hint by now but my father isn’t well and likely won’t live much longer. He will be dead soon.” Aegon’s voice was blunt, the idea of his father’s impending death didn’t fill him with dread and he spoke of it with nonchalance.

“as upsetting as that will be... We must understand that this isn't going to be a simple transition.” She sighed “And as it stands Rhaenyra sits as heir to the Iron Throne, Daemon her king consort, my brother Jacaerys sits as heir after her leaving him as heir to Dragonstone the seat of the Iron Thrones heir, Lucaerys heir to Driftmark, even disregarding... Female children” her tone pointed given Alena was Rhaenyra’s firstborn child and should be her heir but given she was a girl her brother was heir and not her my mother sits with four male heirs. “You sit as viserys heir and we have... Nothing. I believe it would improve your claim... If we were to have a child”

Aegon nodded as she spoke, though his eyes widened as she mentioned pregnancy. He was already familiar with the fact that Alena wasn’t exactly a maternal type, but then again did any woman want to willingly become pregnant. “Are you sure?” He asked in a soft tone, reaching out to take her free hand in his, while his thumb gently caressed her.

“do we really have much of a choice?”

“No, I suppose we don’t.” Aegon said with a shrug, he was right in a sense. They were married, and both were expected to produce heirs and they’d been married a whole year and not even attempted to. “When… would you like to start?” He finally murmured the question as he leaned in closer to her.

“When the sky runs to ash” she joked before she finished her wine in one large gulp “let's just get this over with” she sighed pushing herself out the chair and heading towards their bedroom

Aegon couldn’t help but chuckle at her little quip, though he felt butterflies in his stomach as he rose from his own chair and followed her into their chambers, his eyes wandering over her figure and her braid once more.

She stood by the bed and didn't even bother to undo her hair or her gown fully he just loosened the lowest ties and laid herself down on the bed with her ankles against the bedposts, her gown around her knees for him to move when ready, This was almost exactly how she laid for their bedding ceremony and any other times they had to 'do their duty' and consummate their marriage, even if Aegon has always made sure it was not possible to give her a child, now that is what he knew he had to do even if neither really want to, Alena sighed her hands on her stomach her chest rising a falling with each breath

Aegon took a deep breath as he reached the bed, taking in the sight of her for a few moments. Even though she didn’t want this and neither did he he couldn’t help but think she looked beautiful. He took a few steps closer to the bed, before he climbed onto the mattress and hovered over her “Please tell me to stop…” Aegon murmured before leaning down and kissing her neck.

“why?”

Aegon continued to kiss along her neck, gently nipping at her skin now and then before he pulled away and looked down at her, he had a hand on either side of her head as he leaned on his forearms. “Because I don’t want to continue if you feel uncomfortable.” He murmured, looking down into her eyes. He wouldn’t dream of forcing himself on her if she didn’t want this. “my comfort is not your concern,” she answered “we have to have a child for a good of the realm”

Aegon sighed softly, though he did have some concern for her. He sat up now, kneeling between her thighs as he gently undid her laces, he would have to be gentle. “Just tell me if you want to stop…” He mumbled again, even though she had reassured him he didn’t want to hurt her. While he focused on undoing her gown, his hand gently caressed her waist.

Alena bit her tounge and nodded

Aegon nodded back as he finished untightening her laces, he shifted his position so they were still on their knees but they were almost face to face now. He reached out, gently pushing the silken gown off her shoulders and down her arms. “You can touch me too you know…” He said lowly, his voice was slightly teasing as he continued to undress her.

she shook her head as she laid on her bed almost dissociating as I'd leaving her body and whatever Aegon was to do to her

Aegon paused, taking a moment before he reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands. Though he was slightly frustrated at her reaction he kept his frustration under wraps as he pulled her closer.

“Darling… look at me.” He said softly, his voice was still quiet as he gently lifted her chin so she met his gaze. “I know we… Have to do this. But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it,” he cooed, “Tonight,” he smiled moving her legs off the bedposts and cradling her in his arms, “We shall not think of the realm, or our duty, or of any needs… but our own. Our own needs and desires. Tonight we shall think only of pleasure and I promise I will do anything I can to get you pregnant but we will enjoy it as we do, Okay?”

“Okay,” she smiled stroking his cheek and kissing him as they both moved to flip over, 

[danysdragon]

Haunted

Aemond Targaryen x ghost!niece!reader

Summary: Aemond Targaryen is haunted by the ghost of the girl whose life was stolen at the hands of himself. He is fighting a mental battle, seeing her face in the shadows and walking about the Red Keep is truly a torturous and haunting sight…

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Brief mentions of smut. Dark context! Manipulation, taunting, blood, haunting, Aemond being in denial, large mentions of death!! Reader teasing Aemond and making him feel bad, Aemond crying, Aemond’s ego being beaten, mostly just regret and denial. Drunk Aegon, Aegon teasing Aemond, Aegon being a dick.

A/N: soooo… I was super excited to write this because it was on my mind for a while! I love the Aemond getting haunted ideas! I hope you love reading this story just as much as I loved writing it💋💋💋💋💋 the photos do not describe the reader in any way!

Aemond Targaryen is haunted. Haunted by the girl who stole his eye all those years ago. Haunted by the girl whose life he stole. He doesn’t know if he regrets what he did or not. But he does know that he is going to lose his sanity if she continues this. This little game of hers. She taunts him, and teases him. She enjoys it more than she enjoyed taking his eye, he thinks. When he sees her, he sees the blood seeping out of the soft skin of her stomach, her dress being stained by the red liquid. When her dragon was hit by dragonfire, it began going down. And she went down with it. She hit the rocks in the sea, dying immediately. She washed up on shore days later. He killed both her and her dragon. He did not mean for that to happen, though. You see, he was angry. He wanted revenge for what she did to him, but he never meant to take it that far. Now she’s dead, and it’s is his fault. It is also his fault this war has started. Rhaenyra was crushed after the death of her daughter, declaring war and demanding Aemond’s head. Alicent was also livid. Livid at how careless Aemond was with his actions resulting in the brutal killing of the girl. The girl he has reluctantly grown to love, but he shouldn’t. She’s dead because of him. And it doesn’t help that he sees her face every fucking day.

It was a busy day in the Red Keep. Helaena and Alicent attended Jahaerys’ funeral, Aegon killed one of the men that took the life of his boy, and Aemond visited a brothel. Aemond has been visiting the brothel a lot lately. He’s only doing this because of his conflicting emotions regarding the recent death of his niece. He needed comfort that his mother could not give him. He has come back and began thinking. He sits by the fire, waiting for her to show up. She always shows up around this time. He has taught himself not to be frightened of her visits, it will only make this battle worse.

He gazes at the flames dancing atop the burning wood in the fireplace. He pouts his lips in thought. The chair he sits on tonight is uncomfortable, more than usual. He can feel her presence, though, she hasn’t spoken yet. He will not look up from the fire until he hears her silky voice. “It is your fault he is dead.” She speaks, finally. Her voice is quiet now, compared to her voice when she was falling. Down and down, into the water. He sighs, his hand clenching into a fist against the arm rest of the chair. “Whose death are you speaking of?” He asks, knowing who she is speaking of, but wanting her to say it herself. “The boy. It was an action made in my mother’s words “blood for blood.” She spoke those words because of you. What you did to me.” He stands up, facing her. She is standing next to his chair, looking into his eye.

“Must you taunt me so?” The Kinslayer asks, not being able to look into her cold eyes. She doesn’t answer. She puts a finger on his chin, making him look up at her. “You did this to me, uncle. You put me here.” He is forced to look into her eyes, now not being able to look away. “Stop it, you’re not truly here.” He forces out. He sees the coldness, the anger, but also the teasing in her eyes. “Oh, but I am. I am in your skin, in your mind… In your heart. I am a part of you now, Aemond.” She takes a step closer, her cold lips nearly touching his. “You are nothing but a ghost, haunting me, torturing me.” Her eyes darken. “Is that all I am to you? Just another soul you snatched away because of your greed and selfishness?” She whispers to him, her voice like a soft breeze in a green forest. He sucks in a sharp breath, wanting to reach out and touch her. To pull her close to him and claim her body as he claimed her life. But he also wants to push her away at the same time. “Stop it.”

He is just about to push her back when he hears a loud knock on his door. Too aggressive to be a simple servant. He looks to the door then back at her, gently pushing her to leave. She sighs and takes a step back into the shadows, disappearing from his sight. He lets out a breath and sits back down in his large arm chair. “Enter.” He grumbles. The large, wooden door creaks open and he soon hears the irritating sounds of Aegon’s drunken laughter. He fights the urge to yell at him to get out, wanting to see his beautiful, darling niece again. The door shuts and Aegon plops down onto Aemond’s bed, still giggling like a child. “Evening brother, I hope I’m not interrupting your… conversations with your little ghosts and such.” He says with a chuckle, looking at his brother. Aemond wonders why Aegon is drunk now. “What do you want brother?” Aemond hisses, not in the mood for Aegon’s antics. “I just wanted to speak to you about… this war, and all these deaths. Father, my son… our niece.” Aemond winces at the mention of his niece. Aegon knows he struck a nerve. That’s what he does, he loves taunting Aemond until he snaps. “What about them?” Aemond isn’t in the mood for Aegon’s games. He doesn’t look at the king, thinking that if he looked, he would become even more irritated.

“Oh, you know… I was thinking. Thinking about you. And our sweet niece. I always thought that there was something between you both. Until you killed her. I wouldn’t be surprised if you two fucked while the Blacks were here to see our dying father. Perhaps it was in your bed, or in a closet… Or on the dining table-“ Aemond snaps. “Get out.” Aegon stops laughing and looks at Aemond, a bit offended and confused. “Sorry? I don’t think I heard you correctly, brother.” Aemond stands up and faces Aegon, peering into his soul like a predator eyeing its prey. “Get out, brother. Now.” Aegon’s eyes darken and his smile completely fades. “Alright then. I’ll leave.” He gets up and begins walking to the doors. He stops and looks at the prince. “It’s a shame she’s dead. I know how badly you yearn for her.” He finally leaves, shutting the door with a small slam. The young prince lets out an irritated sigh, sitting back down. The fire is slowly dying.

He can feel her presence back again. She gently puts her hands on his shoulders behind him, her hands cold. He feels this pain in his heart. He knows she is not truly here, and it’s his fault. He did that to her. And now he’s haunted because of what he did, forever haunted by the ghost of his sweet niece. The girl that was simply trying to protect her brothers all those years ago, causing him to lose an eye. She leans down and gently presses her frigid lips to his jaw. He lets out a small hum, not stopping her from commencing her actions. Her lips slowly trail down to his upper neck, just under his jaw. Her tongue darts out of her mouth to taste his smooth skin. He lets out a small whimper of pleasure and need as he feels her tongue dance on his skin. He feels her hand snake around his throat, squeezing a bit, not hard enough to choke him, but hard enough to make him feel it. She sucks and nips at his sweet spot, enjoying the sounds he’s making. Until she suddenly stops. And he no longer feels her lips on his neck and her hand on his throat. He doesn’t feel her at all. She’s disappeared once again. He sighs at the loss of contact, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair.

Until next time, ghostly girl.

Hello loves! I hope you enjoyed reading! This was a short one but I truly enjoyed writing it. Hope you liked it!💋

-Liv💋

[spacerockfloater]

“Ha! Alicent finally understands what patriarchy is! She supported a misogynistic system and now she’s facing the consequences of her actions! She made her bed, now she has to lie in it! She really thought the leopards wouldn’t eat her face!”

Except that Alicent:

was one of the first victims of patriarchy in this show so she very much always understood how fucked up it is.

was the only one to advocate for her friend’s right to rule even when Rhaenyra’s own father doubted his decision to make her his heir.

was the only person to suggest that Driftmark should pass on to Baela.

did not go to war against Rhaenyra because she thought women couldn’t rule. She did it because she wanted to protect her family after her former friend got her father fired, took her son’s eye, demanded he be tortured despite being her kid brother and because she genuinely believed that Aegon II becoming king was her husband’s dying wish.

This is the “hypocrisy” bullshit all over again and I just have to say that those who genuinely believe such analyses are illiterate.

[hughesmybaby]

The Reluctant Empress (Jacaerys Velaryon x Female!Reader)

Act II. Burgeoning

(19th Century Imperial Austria AU)

summary: crown prince jacaerys gets to know his prospect betrothed and future bride whom he has been arranged with to marry, your sister helaena targaryen, but true to your wild spirit, you cannot help but wonder what awaits in the world behind gilded castles and royal splendour.

word count: 2.4k words

a/n: i'm so sorry this took an entire year before an update but it is finally here! i apologize as I had some health things to settle, and with brain fog and got more distracted by other fandoms but here we go! once again, please comment and share what you liked, what you'd want more for me and request and let me know as my inbox is always open <3 let me know if you want to be on the taglist or not getting tags!

series masterlist

previously: prologue | act i

masterlist

requests OPEN

“Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.” ― William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

Seated between her mother and sister, Y/N eyes roamed around the dining hall in the palace that hosted the royal family and her covey. Changed into an emerald green gown, wearing the necklace and earrings her father gave her on the last name day before his passing, she paid no mind to the significance of the occasion and was just glad to be there, surrounded in the splendor of the castle walls.

She knew that it was Helaena’s time to shine, and she would not want to rob her of her light, of the opportunity that would change their fortunes and not have Alicent scrabbling and worrying over the last penny of their expenses.

Twirling her fork on the pesto noodles in front of her, Y/N remained silent and just patiently listened to all the conversation around her, between her mother and her childhood friend the Queen, who inquired about Helaena’s well being, her lifestyle and assessing on how she would adjust becoming the next consort upon wedding Jacaerys.

Dazed out in a world of her own, Y/N did not hear Jacaerys reverting his attention to her aptly, until her sister nudged her ankle with her shoe, repeating her name on his tongue like it was the sweetest honey, curiosity and amusement on his features.

“Lady Y/N, what do you do in your free time, my lady?”

Stammering like a cat bit her tongue, she cleared her throat as she gathered herself and make her look and sound presentable.

“I ride horses, my prince. I hunt and I have picked up the sword a few times.” Lady Y/N bluntly replied, already feeling the burning glare of your embarrassed mother. Queen Rhaenyra only watches in amusement, how her confidante could have a daughter who was nothing like her mother.

Jacaerys was intrigued, leaning forward to hear Y/N better and scooch closer over to Her. A curious smile on his handsome, chiseled face, his curly brown hair starting to grow out and neatly groomed behind his ears.

Plates and utensils remained untouched as Y/N and Jacaerys were engrossed in an engaging, animated conversation, passionate replies to uncontrollable laughter.

The older women present at the table watched with trepidation, Lady Alicent’s habits of digging into her fingernails returned while the silver-haired queen’s expression turned unreadable.

Helaena swallowed her wounded pride of being ignored and not found as an interesting companion, playing with her knife and fork, digging at the roast beef the same way her young daughter would.

As the servants gather the finished main course meals and replace them with fresh fruit and lemon cakes for dessert, Rhaenyra swiftly suggests for the elder Targaryen sister to read out some of the poetry her mother praised earlier.

“You must share with us your talent in verse and poetry, Lady Helaena.”

Relieved, the indigo hued girl stood up at the end of the table, grabbing her little booklet hidden in the pockets of her skirt. Flipping through its parchment pages, she settles to a recent entry close to the end of the worn out leather bound book, covered with an embroidered beetle.

To want is the most natural thing Inherent in the blood through our veins The very primal urge of our being Yet we will always want, and want With no end like a black hole What better to want what is not ours? To covet what the other possesses To take away what is given as easily as it was owned?

Her raspy voice echoed through the halls mellifluously in perfectly rehearsed High Valyrian. Yet you could not help a guilty perception weighing on you, blossoming at the pit of your stomach and you could not shake it off. You were doing nothing wrong, you told yourself, wanting to believe in it but it felt wrong.

Y/N’s fears arose to the surface when she could feel a burning stare on her face intensely, as if memorizing her very form and that she would disappear into nothing anytime. You were listening as intently as you could, yet when you turned, Jacaerys did not pay mind to a single word Helaena said as his focus was fixated on you.

No, no, no. Nothing was going as planned. Everything was going wrong. She praises whatever gods intervened when the heir’s brother Prince Lucerys gracefully diverted the topic into the new cuisines created by the cooks of the Keep with the freshest catches of seafood from Driftmark.

…

“Y/N, what do you think you were doing out there?! Do you think I do not notice your need to always be the centre of attention?” The shrill shrieking of her mother’s voice pierced through her ear drums, yet Y/N was unsurprised and used to such altercations with her mother.

Following the uneasy supper, the three ladies from Dalston Keep returned to their chambers to change midday in preparation for the tour around the gardens with the queen and her heir again after a few hours of respite.

Silently humiliated as they reconvened in private, the illusion of propriety that Lady Alicent carried in front of the queen and prince ripped away, unleashing a ferocity unrestrained like never before.

“I did nothing, mother. I was polite and engaged in a conversation when I was spoken to.”

“You did more than that, you foolish girl! It was about your sister. All of this was about her, not you! Is it so difficult for you to tone down your tendencies for once so we can go according to the arrangement? You put our fortunes up to be desolated. You are as careless as your father!” The sting of her final words hung in the air, salt over the open wound for such a loss. Y/N knew her mother did not love her father, who was older than her own father, and only did her duty to her ailing, troubled, aging husband.

“Mother, that is enough! Do not bring father into this.” Helaena countered exasperatedly, holding onto her sister by her shoulders in defense. “Y/N did nothing wrong. It was..it was me. I should have engaged with the prince more. She did me a favour.”

Y/N gasps in disbelief, astonished her beloved sister would keep taking her side when it was clear she was the wounded party.

“Do not worry about it, mother. I promise I will remain silent from now on. I want this to be Helaena’s night.” Y/N swears sincerely, wanting to defend Helaena and stay away from any trouble from now on.

Alicent does not fully believe her youngest, but nods solemnly as she seeks to move this behind them, returning to her dignified, contemplating gaze with her perfect posture and arms clasped at her waist.

Subsequently, a drove of maids and seamstresses poured in, as Alicent went to her solitary room while the sisters shared a larger room. Each stepped on the raised wooden platform. Taking lush gowns from the closet, they plucked out a rich emerald green gown with fitted sleeves for Helaena.

Meanwhile, a muted seafoam gown was placed on Y/N, as maids scuttered behind her to tighten the corset and laces. Y/N whimpered quietly in discomfort, never finding any gratification in restrictive court dress upheld by centuries of protocol and conduct. It barred her sense of freedom, clipped off her wings from flight and reminded her of a bird in a cage.

Heirloom pieces of emerald silver lined jewelry were given to Helaena, designed to accentuate her beauty and prepare her for her upcoming role and ascent into her duty. As the daylight trickled in through the lace curtains and open windows, she looked like a future queen. A role she was raised to be. Otherworldly and ethereal, while Y/N was grounded to the earth, locks like flames and soil.

Y/N beamed in delight for her older sister, squeezing her hands in reassurance. Helaena reciprocated not as enthusiastically, the nerves still getting to her as her palms were sweating and shaking.

“You have nothing to worry about, Hel. We would not get this far if he did not consider you his bride already.”

“Truly, do you really think so?”

“I do. Without a doubt. You already look the part. It is only the formality left we are waiting for at the ball.”

The elder genuinely chuckled this time in relief, her joy finally meeting her eyes from the comfort and encouragement of her sister.

“Now, all that is left is for you to step into your destiny.”

…

Manicured gardens flourished in the peak of spring, cicadas chirping from the branches of oak trees. Lilies and carnations in hues of apricot and blush, while the outlying paths were paved in blue hydrangeas and violet peonies.

Queen Rhaenyra adorned a lapis lazuli blue gown adorned in gold trimmings and sapphires sewn onto her bodice, matching the stone necklace of the color on her neck and matched her tiara, a reminder of her late mother and former queen.

She pleasantly strolled with a natural confidence, carrying herself with an ease afforded by one who has known privilege and power all her life. Guiding a tour around the Red Keep at the height of its social season, Rhaenyra proudly showed off her domains, and subtly if so, the lands that Helaena would take care of as its hostess after she marries Jacaerys and becomes his queen when the time comes.

Behind her was her eldest Crown Prince Jacaerys, always without a hair or trivet out of place, the picture of perfection that she had groomed since his birth. Dressed more casually in teal with the seahorse emblem on his chest, he honoured his late father Lord Laenor Velaryon, further dispelling any rumours or uncertainty around his paternity.

Although he did not directly resemble his father, he has begun to share features with his paternal grandmother Princess Rhaenys with her Baratheon colouring, and the shape of his nose and chin mirrored her father, who was another Prince of Dragonstone, Prince Aemon the Pale Prince. As rider of Vermax, it was undeniable he was the prince long awaited by the realm, whom millions of hopes and dreams were instilled in.

Standing beside him was Lady Helaena Targaryen, his expected betrothed in everything but formality. Raised with the intention of becoming a princess consort, she was demure, shy, obedient and trusting, exactly what the people of Westeros wanted of their model future queen. Proven in her success of childbearing, onlookers examined her critically on baited breath as they wanted to know who will bear the next generation of Targaryen rulers on the Iron Throne.

Their chaperons trailed behind them, Lady Alicent arm in arm with Lady Y/N, in the same shade of muted green, but her mother had visible symbols of the Faith of the Seven from her necklace, her dark headdress and veil, and on the cuffs on her wrist and belt. Y/N distractedly took in her sights, studying every nook and cranny of the storied palace with eagerness and pursuit.

“This garden still follows the design plan created by Queen Rhaenys the Conqueror herself, yet it was only finished years after her passing in Dorne.”

The queen continued the tour of the keep, while she discreetly eavesdropped on the conversation between her heir and his expected betrothed. The two were engaging pleasantly yet amiably on the surface level, their dialogue not reaching too far. Unaware of a figure parting at the fork and heading another direction.

…

When she is assured she’s clear and no one can find her, Y/N Targaryen smirks victoriously as she heads straight and turns left towards the barn, near the dragonpit, where the horses and grazing animals were located.

On nimble footsteps, through the mud and manure, she makes a run for it as two stableboys turn the corner and miss her, as they forgot to close the stables and she sneaks in.

As the afternoon light trickles in, Y/N looks around curiously, before her attention is caught by this white mare, with its freshly brushed mane and shining horsehair, an anomaly among ebony and hickory. Not wanting to startle the majestic creature, she prances until she’s in front of the horse, hushing and cooing at them as she latches onto the reins.

She holds the mane by her reins, tugging gently as she walks through the barn and the empty backwaters of the ancient castle. It is quiet, with most servants resting for their annual nap and their morning duties finished, so Y/N is able to ride the stallion undiscovered.

The lingering scent of the manure and greenery turns into salty waters of aegean and spruce and the earthy, musty petrichor from the rain on the fir and cedar trees earlier in the morning.

A hint of the cool breeze tingles through her skin, a dress and not proper riding gear in its leathers and furs, but she brushes it off, as King’s Landing in the spring at this time of the year has turned warm and the rain from earlier is long gone.

She rides as far as her companion will allow, until the peripheral view of the Red Keep grows distant from over her shoulder. Y/N stops at the fork of the road before it joins the greater Kingsroad, diverting by the forest with towering trees and fallen logs. Sitting by the foot of a trunk, Y/N pauses for some stillness, her back pressing against the hard trunk as she closes her eyes, before grabbing an apple and vial of water to share with her stallion.

As she and the mare finish the fruit, she stands up to brush off any leaf and dirt on the back of her skirt, about to mount once again before she hears echoes of confrontation growing closer. Y/N has barely begun to leave the forest and return to the artery before she is surrounded by hooded, disheveled men with smug expressions.

Unable to avoid contact, she politely acknowledges them and pulls her cape over her flaming locks before she is stopped from moving in either direction. “Good morrow, sirs.”

She yelps as she’s grabbed by her wrists by the men, struggling to stay on her saddle as the mare turns skittish. “Not so fast, my lady. We need something from ya, and you gotta pay up for our silence. Comes with a price.” The men smirk, distant galloping approaching them.

Y/N yelps as she is knocked off her horse, hitting her head against the rock and all turns into darkness around her. She hears a distant echo of another mount heading her way, furious yelling and clattering swords. Her head throbs, feeling the blood dripping down her nape, as her eyes flutter closed.

[why-what-no]

Being Rhaenyra’s Daughter Would Include

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: None really

Notes: Writing all this is really making me wanna finally write a long form Alicent x Rhaenyra fic. I love them so much. And yes, Alicent Daughter Headcanons will be coming out next :)

As the only daughter of the heir to the Iron Throne, you were adored by your mother and your brothers.

She was so glad to finally have a little girl. To create a close relationship like she had with her own mother. When you were born, she refused to let you leave her arms. Promising to be there for you no matter what

Growing up, you were treated like the princess you were. But although you were protected, your mother refused to treat you as some helpless girl. You would be taught the ways of ruling just like your brothers.

She made sure to always let you know how much she loved you. How beautiful you were. How sure she was that you would grow up brave and powerful like the Targaryens before you.

Your wardrobe would be filled with the richest of fabrics, any colours that complimented you.

She had issues with the colour green. When you occasionally wore it, there was a jolt of grief that ran through her body at the thought of her childhood. Thinking about - if Alicent was still her friend - how much the brunette would dote on you like she did.

Rhaenyra was fiercely protective of you, terrified of the idea that her enemies would take you from her. She knew what a prize you would be for them, knew that they were aware she would do anything to get you back if you were ever taken hostage.

She’s visit your chambers and brush your hair whenever she had a worry about that, whispering a lullaby to you as she did. It was just as comforting to her as it was to you.

When Daemon returned to her, she made sure he treated you like his own. As much as she loved having you to herself, she knew you needed more in your life. As a child, she would have been happy if her daughter was raised by her and her dear friend. But now she depended on Daemon to protect you and your brothers with her.

Your grandfather Viserys adored you and although his appearance grew worse, you were never afraid of him. He spoiled you.

You didn’t know what to make of his wife, who stared at you with an unreadable expression whenever she had seen you. But there was a deep sadness in her face as she once told you “you have your mother’s eyes”

Your mother never left your side when you were visiting that part of your family. Your cousin Helaena would always smile softly whenever you were around. But Aemond never spoke much to you and you didn’t like the cold glitter in Aegon’s eyes.

You were more comfortable with only your parents and brothers, or your cousins in Driftmark who you adored playing with.

The people of Kings Landing liked you, their little princess. You were more tolerable to them than Rhaenyra had been, as you weren’t going to rule them. So they took your youthful loveliness at face value.

Rhaenyra told you stories about her loves, hoping that you would find someone who made you so happy one day. She hated to think about you one day leaving her and your siblings to create a family of your own, but she knew that she wanted you to be happy above all else

In a lot of ways, she saw you as a way to do what she wished her parents had done for her. To be the parent she always wished she had.

And she always succeeded, you couldn’t ask for a better parent.

Taglist: @icravethesmut