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baelarys · 4 months ago

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i like aemond and his niece marriage live with they children they so adorable. but i wanna see the children spend day with grandparent like with alicent look like or with rhaenyra when they go to dragonstone. and perhaps do criston ( reader true father ) as grandpa in secret look like….

𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚

Aemond Targaryen x reader velaryon¡Niece!

Word count:1727

Warninig:fluff and more fluff

Pt2 pt1 pt4

Your heart was beating with an enthusiasm you could barely contain as you made your way to your mother's chambers. The news of her arrival, delivered by one of your ladies that morning, had been a ray of joy in your day. You decided to bring Laenor with you, as the other children were immersed in their usual activities.

As you reached the door to the chambers, the guards opened it wide. You entered with a mix of excitement and nervousness, searching for your mother around the room. You found her resting on one of the luxurious pieces of furniture, her figure elegantly serene.

"My sweet girl," Rhaenyra exclaimed upon seeing you, her eyes shining with a warm, maternal light. She extended her arms towards you, and your heart overflowed with nostalgia as you saw her familiar face, as radiant as ever.

"Mother," you said in a trembling voice, feeling how time faded in her presence. "Father," you added, addressing Daemon as well. The prince, with his usual roguish charm, greeted you with a smile full of affection.

"I’m so glad you’re here," you said, taking a seat beside her and wasting no time bringing Laenor closer to her arms so she could see him better.

Rhaenyra took the baby with great care, avoiding waking him, as her eyes scanned every detail of Laenor's face with a mix of wonder and joy. She rocked him gently, and you couldn’t help but feel immensely proud at that moment.

"He’s so beautiful," she murmured, her voice filled with sweetness as she stroked the fine, delicate hair of the baby with a trembling hand.

Daemon approached to observe the little one, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it tenderly. "He looks like you," he commented with a sincere smile, which you mirrored on your face.

"Where are Jace and Luke?" you asked, looking for the children around the room. You only saw Joffrey, who was playing with his toys on the floor. You stood up and approached him with a smile.

"Somewhere in the castle," your mother replied, her attention entirely focused on the baby.

"Joff," you called softly, crouching beside him. The dark-haired child turned at your presence, his eyes shining with excitement and surprise.

"Y/N!" he shouted with joy, throwing himself into your arms. You welcomed him in a warm embrace, letting out a small laugh as you held him close.

"Look how much you’ve grown," you said, running your hand through his thick, curly brown hair. "Has your dragon hatched yet?"

"Yes, yes, it has," he responded enthusiastically, extending his hands into the air to show you how big it would become. "And it will grow this big."

"I don’t doubt it," you said, smiling as you took his hand and stood up. "By the way, I have something to show you."

You guided Joffrey to where you had been sitting before, carefully bringing him closer to Laenor, who had now awakened. His violet eyes scanned the room with curiosity.

"This is your nephew, Laenor," you said, taking Joffrey's hand and gently guiding it to touch the baby's cheek. Laenor directed all his attention toward the boy in front of him. "What do you think?"

"Laenor," Joffrey repeated, seeming to reflect on the name. Suddenly, Laenor smiled and let out a few babbles towards Joffrey, bringing a smile to the older boy’s face. "Look, Mama! He’s smiling at me!" he exclaimed excitedly, looking at Rhaenyra with joy.

Rhaenyra, touched by the scene, watched her children with a tender expression. "So it seems," she commented, her voice filled with emotion.

They spent some time talking and enjoying their time together until Laenor began to show signs of hunger. You decided to leave to feed the baby, allowing your mother to rest after her long journey.

You walked down the hallways towards the nursery, the place where your children usually played. Just as you turned a corner, you saw Luke and Jace walking back to your mother’s chambers.

"Guys," you called with a smile, and they turned at the sound of your voice. Recognizing you, they quickly approached, with Luke being the first to embrace you immediately.

"Oh, look, Jace," Luke said, pointing to Laenor, whom you were holding in your arms. Without hesitation, Luke extended his arms and took the baby in his hands with a gesture of admiration.

"Where were you?" you asked as you took Jace by the arm and started walking towards the nursery. The two boys followed, with Luke completely absorbed in playing with Laenor.

"In the yard," Jace replied, running a hand lazily through his hair.

"What’s his name?" Luke asked, lifting the baby in the air. Laenor let out a series of giggles and small cries of joy, delighted by the game.

"His name is Laenor," you answered with a smile. Jace, upon hearing the name, looked at you with an expression of surprise and nostalgia. "Laenor," he repeated, his voice laden with an emotion that seemed to evoke memories.

They continued walking until they reached the nursery, where you found Aerion, Vaera, and Vaerys, already entertained with their usual games. They weren’t alone; Queen Alicent was there, smiling sweetly while playing with the twins, their golden hair shining in the light streaming through the window. Ser Criston Cole, standing nearby, was conversing softly with Aerion, offering a patient smile to the boy, who seemed to be listening intently.

Upon entering the nursery, you paused for a moment to observe Queen Alicent, who looked up from her game with the twins upon noticing your presence. Her face lit up with a friendly smile, but there was still that assessing look that always seemed present in her expression. You inclined your head in a respectful bow. "Your Majesty," you greeted courteously. Jace and Luke, following your example, also bowed, though you noticed the stiffness in their movements, clearly tense in the presence of the queen and her knight.

Alicent returned the greeting with a nod, though it was evident her eyes were now on the baby in Luke's arms. "Y/N," she began in a kindly tone, "I see the little ones are well accompanied today."

"Yes, Your Majesty," you replied with a faint smile. "I wanted my children to spend time with their uncles." Alicent nodded slowly, although a fleeting expression of discomfort crossed her face. It seemed she had noticed the tension in the air.

Ser Criston, ever observant, stepped forward with a slight bow, clearly more directed towards you than your brothers. "Princess," he greeted formally, before stepping back a little from Aerion, giving you the space you needed.

Alicent turned to Criston and nodded slightly, as if they had shared a silent understanding. "Perhaps we should let them enjoy a family moment," she suggested with a polite smile. "Aerion, Vaera, Vaerys," she called softly to the children, "I’m afraid I must go, but I hope you continue to enjoy your day."

The children nodded obediently, although Aerion seemed slightly disappointed that his conversation with Ser Criston had been interrupted. Alicent waved them off with a gentle gesture before turning and leaving the room, followed by Ser Criston, who gave you one last bow before following her.

With the departure of the queen and her knight, the atmosphere in the nursery immediately relaxed. The children looked at you expectantly, their eyes bright with curiosity as they observed the two boys accompanying you. You smiled, noting the impatience on their faces, and leaned down toward them, ready to make introductions.

"Children," you began, adopting a jovial tone, "I want to introduce you to my brothers. This is Jacaerys, but you can call him Jace," you indicated the older of the two boys, who flashed a friendly smile and nodded. "And this is Lucerys, but we call him Luke," you added, pointing to the younger one, who greeted them with a shy bow.

Aerion, always the most curious of your children, immediately stepped forward, his eyes shining with excitement. "Are you princes?" he asked with a mix of wonder and admiration, his voice full of interest. "Do you have dragons too?"

Luke smiled at the child’s direct question. "Yes, we are princes," he replied modestly, "and we do have dragons. My dragon’s name is Arrax."

Aerion's eyes widened even more, and he wasted no time in asking another question. "Is Arrax big? Does he fly fast? And what about Jace's dragon?"

Jace let out a small laugh at Aerion's enthusiasm, crouching down to be at his height. "My dragon’s name is Vermax," he replied with a warm smile, "and yes, he’s very fast, although not as big as some other dragons. But someday he’ll grow much larger."

While Aerion continued bombarding Luke and Jace with questions —"What’s it like to fly? Is it scary or fun? Have you ever fallen?"— the twins, Vaera and Vaerys, approached Jace with cautious steps. One of them, Vaerys, gently tugged on his sleeve, her big violet eyes filled with curiosity.

"Is your dragon very pretty?" she asked innocently, her voice sweet like a child’s melody.

Jace, moved by the girls' tenderness, crouched to their level and nodded. "Yes, Vermax is very pretty. He has scales of a deep green color and golden eyes that shine like the sun."

Vaera, the other twin, looked at Jace with growing fascination. "Will you teach us to fly on him someday?" she asked, her cheeks flushing with excitement.

Jace laughed softly. "Well, that might be a little complicated," he replied kindly, "but perhaps we can watch him fly from the ground. I promise you, it's an impressive sight."

The twins exchanged excited glances and squeezed each other, clearly delighted by the idea. Aerion, not stopping, continued firing off questions, while Jace and Luke answered with patience and occasional laughter.

Meanwhile, Laenor had been left to his own devices on the floor, and with the determination of a curious baby, he began to crawl across the ground. Slowly, he made his way toward you, his violet eyes fixed on your face. When he reached you, he grabbed onto your knees, trying to pull himself up with little murmurs of effort. You couldn't help but smile at his perseverance.

"Come on, little warrior!" you encouraged him softly, leaning down to help him get a better grip. Laenor wobbled for a moment, but with a proud smile, he managed to stand up, leaning on you for support. The children's laughter echoed again, contagious with the joy of the moment.

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flowerandblood · 4 months ago

Text

The Lost Haven (16/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece •female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, dirty talk, smut, the angst, murder, character death, miscarriage and the trauma associated with it, panic attack, mafia stuff, brutal violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn’t let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father’s mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra’s husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin’s brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She was pregnant.

Although, according to all moral and social norms, she should have been crying in despair, she was happy: touching her belly with her hand, she felt nothing but love for this little being that was slowly growing inside her.

The fruit of their warm, deep, sincere affection.

The knowledge that she was not alone helped her when it was time for her to meet the staff for whom she was to be responsible from now on. Aemond insisted on being with her, fearing for some reason for her and the baby, she, however, knew that this was something she had to do alone.

Their stares when she walked into the VIP room in which she had ordered the meeting told her everything – grown men and women who looked as if they had seen far too much in their lives watched her in disbelief.

She knew they thought with disapproval that she was just a little girl, a whore who had been given this place as a gift by their boss that she wouldn't know what to do with, pestering them with her stupid bullshit.

She sat down in one of the empty armchairs, a few people lit cigarettes and grunted, other than that, complete silence all around her.

"I know what you're thinking and you're right. The fact that I have taken over these premises is a form of security for me. In true, not only for me, but also for you. Aemond will stop the flow of drugs through these and two other places that used to belong to my father. I have no intention of changing managers or leadership, quite the contrary – I want to talk to you about what you need. I want this to be a clean, legitimate business that is profitable. No drastic changes." She said, looking at them expectantly, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

A few people twisted in their seats, others looked at each other.

Silence.

Obviously they didn't trust her.

"Think whatever you want about me. It doesn't matter. Know, however, that my stepfather no longer threatens you, and Aemond will still protect this place. All I ask for is loyalty. If there is a problem with something, come to me with it, not to my uncle, or he will be furious. Now get back to work, I want to stay with the manager." She said calmly.

All but one man who could easily be her father got up from their seats and walked out, leaving them alone.

"This is not a toy you can just pick up and have." He said finally, firing up the lighter, leaning over the flame with his cigarette.

"I don't see it as a toy. We can all gain something if we accept each other. Would you rather keep wallowing in this shit and selling ecstasy to young kids? Don't you have children of your own?" She asked coolly, and the man snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk.

"I do. Three. Two sons and a daughter. Each of them works here. The sons as security guards and the daughter behind the bar." He said dryly and she swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on her back.

Fuck.

Had she just insulted him?

"You let your own kids do drugs? Do you want them to be arrested with you if the police come by here, as part of family integration?" She asked, and he sighed heavily, taking a loud drag on his cigarette.

"I didn't say that." He replied, letting the smoke out through his mouth.

"And I don't want that either. Help me protect you." She insisted, and he looked at her finally, as if he had made up his mind.

"You're just like your father."

She exhaled loudly, in an involuntary reflex she'd been holding back for the last few hours touching her lower abdomen as soon as the car door closed behind her.

"And how was it? Everything okay?" Her uncle asked, immediately grasping her hand in his, looking at her expectantly, tense.

"They are difficult people. Difficult, but tired. They don't want problems. They get used to it." She said quietly, exhausted and sleepy.

She looked at him, a worry in his eyes but also a tenderness from which she felt warm in her heart.

"Take me home."

The road to the sea was getting terribly long, perhaps because once in a while she felt an unpleasant twinge in her stomach, indicative of what was about to happen.

"– no – no, stop the car, stop the car –" She muttered, and he immediately pulled over to the side of the road – she only managed to open the door before she vomited on the grass, panting heavily.

"– oh, baby – why don't you lie down in the back seat? – you'll be more comfortable –" She heard his voice, his broad hand stroking her back.

Ever since they'd found out they were going to be parents he'd been so tender, so good, so sweet.

Exactly like he had been back then.

"– okay –" She mumbled and swallowed hard, wiping her mouth with her handkerchief. She unbuckled her seatbelt, climbed out and opened the door in the back, laying down on both passenger seats, closing her eyes.

"– sleep, little one – I'll drive slowly – we're not in any hurry –" He said, looking at her in the rear view mirror, and she nodded.

She flinched when she felt the car finally stop – she heard someone open the door, the fresh air and his familiar hands enveloped her, lifting her up, and she clung to him like a small child. He carried her into the house, to a room that belonged to him, where they had set up their makeshift bedroom for the time of renovation.

She felt him lay her gently on the bed, taking his place beside her a moment later, embracing her from behind.

"– you're tiring your mummy terribly –" He whispered, stroking her belly with lazy, calm motions of his hand. "– you need to let her rest –"

She smiled, allowing herself to fall asleep again, this time in his embrace. Her uncle often addressed their child as if the baby could already understand him – he was making a connection this way, realising that he was really going to become a father.

He was involved in everything about preparing for the arrival of their child into the world – they decided to dedicate the room she slept in that summer holiday to their future offspring and repainted it together, sticking cute glow-in-the-dark stickers on the walls in the shape of various planets and stars.

With some things, they had to wait because they didn't know if the baby was going to be a boy or a girl.

"It cost me a lot of money, but I made it. I have written permission from the Archbishop. Rhaenys, we can marry." He said to her one morning, holding a piece of paper in front of him that was to change their lives.

A dispensation for a church wedding.

"We need witnesses." She muttered, gripping his hand in hers. Her uncle nodded, as if he knew she'd said it.

"I know, Helaena agreed. I didn't want to decide about another person for you." He said, and she smiled, feeling grateful.

He became more open, more affectionate, always thinking of her and her needs too.

She knew who she wanted by her side.

"I know I'm asking a lot and that I'm not entitled to it. I know your father will be furious if you say yes, but… you have always been close to my heart. You didn't judge me. I wish I had you with me on this day." She mouthed in a breaking voice, standing alone in the bathroom with her phone pressed to her ear, wiping her face wet with tears.

She heard Baela swallow hard, shocked by her words.

For a long moment, they were both silent.

"– I – God – I've always felt you were in pain – only now I know why and I'm sorry you've been alone with this for so long – I don't want you to not have your bridesmaid on your wedding day – just tell me when and where –" She muttered and she burst out into a quiet sob, feeling relieved.

"– forgive me – forgive me for being such a disgusting person –" She choked out, whooping, feeling that she had finally described herself truly.

She had fucked her own uncle and was going to have a baby with him.

She was sick.

Baela drew in a loud breath.

"– stop – if he was your own birth brother, it would be much, much worse – on the positive side, he's actually only half your uncle –" She said, and for some reason she burst out laughing.

God.

"– right – it's a good thing I didn't choose Jace –" She mumbled, and Baela snorted.

"– exactly – let's stick to that –" She said.

"– it would be funny if the police burst into the church and arrested us –" She sneered, fiddling with the soft towel hanging on the rack, imagining commandos with guns ordering them to fall to the ground.

"– for what? – for drug dealing or for incest? –" Baela scoffed, and she giggled under her breath.

"– for everything – the list of crimes is long –" She said with a smile, for some reason feeling lighter.

It was the first time she had ever talked to someone about it completely honestly.

She shuddered when she heard a loud knock on the door.

"Rhaenys? Are you all right?" She heard his concerned voice.

Ever since he had found her in the bath then, he had been afraid if she stayed in the bathroom too long.

"Yes. I'm talking to Baela. She agreed." She called out to him.

"That's great." He said with sincere relief, as if he was afraid she would suffer another disappointment and rejection from her family.

They hadn't planned to invite any guests to the event, have a dinner together or anything of the sort – they knew that most of their family felt there was nothing to celebrate, and for them, as it wasn't a state wedding, it only had symbolic significance.

Helaena helped her choose the right dress – she wanted to look special that day, because even though their nuptials were going to be bittersweet, she was, in the eyes of God, going to be his wife.

"– oh – look – this one is lovely –" Helaena hummed, taking from the rack a long, white gown with a cut-out back and lace at the neckline and the ends of the delicate, long sleeves.

"– you're right – it would match the flowers in my hair –" She said, in her perfect image of herself that day wishing she had daisies woven into her curls.

Helaena dropped her off in the car at a shop near their house and they said their goodbyes – she needed nothing so much as a walk and some fresh air, however, she wanted to cook them dinner too, knowing that her fiancé would be back late.

Since he had started telling her about his affairs, what he needed to do and where he needed to go, she felt calmer and his absence no longer frightened her so much.

Besides, he wasn't leaving her alone anymore, she thought, touching her stomach happily, looking curiously at the shelves full of different kinds of pasta, searching for the perfect one for spaghetti.

She shuddered, having the feeling that someone had rubbed against her by accident, but then she felt that person holding something against her back.

"Be quiet and leave the shop slowly." She heard a cold, unfamiliar voice behind her and froze, feeling her heart leap up into her throat, a cold sweat on her back.

She looked to the side, wondering if she should scream, if anyone would help her, not knowing if this man held a gun or a knife against her body.

"Don't try anything or I'll butcher you like a pig." He said, as if he was reading her mind, and she swallowed hard, feeling burning tears of terror under her eyelids, her body involuntarily began to tremble.

She simply moved towards the exit, and the man she was afraid to look at put his arm around her like he was her boyfriend, clamping his hand firmly on her waist to make sure she didn't try to escape.

As soon as they left she sprang up to throw herself into a run, but the man grabbed her waist and clamped his hand over her mouth – she bit him with a loud squeal, but he only hissed, not letting her go, hiding behind the wall of the shop, two other men got out of the car.

One of them, a blond man with a beard and blue eyes had a scars on his left cheek.

"– come on, what the fuck are you waiting for – faster –" Tyland Lannister growled, and the man who was clearly his bodyguard forced her to bow her head and forcibly shoved her into the back seat, closing the door behind her.

She burst out crying, curling up as Tyland sat down next to her and the two men took their seats in front, driving away with a squeal of tyres.

"– shut the fuck up – be a good girl and no harm will come to you – I need to clear up a few things with your uncle –" He said lightly – only when she looked at him did she notice that he held in his hand a gun pointed towards her.

She pressed her body against the car door, looking at him with big eyes and shook her head.

"– please – please let me out, I'm pregnant – I –" She mumbled out and squealed, leaning forward, feeling a sudden, penetrating pain in her lower abdomen, and then another and another.

She began to pant loudly in terror, and wailed as Tyland slapped the back of her head with an open palm.

"– stop pretending – I told you to fucking calm down, I won't do anything to you – I won't –" He muttered and fell silent, looking with her at the drop of blood that ran down her thigh from under her dress.

She covered her mouth with her hands and screamed loudly, falling into sheer hysteria, the man in front cursed, telling her to shut up, and Tyland just stared at her, his mouth wide open.

"– stop –" He muttered. "– fuck, God, stop, stop, stop –"

"– here? – boss, we're in the middle of a country road –"

"– STOP, I SAID –"

The car stopped at the side of the road with a screech of tyres in a way that made her hit her head on the seat in front of her – Tyland opened the door, grabbed her ankle and dragged her out of the car like an animal, leaving her on the grass, then got back inside.

The car drove off.

She just breathed, whooping with tears, looking at the grass around her and the tree trunks, feeling a horrible warm stickiness between her thighs, twitching all over, not having the strength or the will to get up.

After a while some other car stopped beside her, the people inside screamed in terror and got out, a woman who could have been her mother ran up to her and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Good God, I think they raped her."

No, she thought.

They took something much more precious from me.

She heard his loud, frightened breath as she lay in the hospital bed, the policemen standing beside her grunted at the sight of him.

"Are you her family?" Asked one of them.

"Y-yes, I'm her uncle. Good God, what happened?" He mumbled in a breaking voice.

"Your niece was found by a woman on a country road, thrown out of some car. She immediately informed us, suspecting that a rape had taken place, however, the cause of the bleeding was a sudden stress-induced miscarriage. The victim does not speak and does not want to say who did this to her. Could you please…"

The man did not finish as she heard him burst into a loud, mournful sob, felt the touch of his hands on her body, his face pressed into her hair, his broken, heavy breath.

Her eyebrows arched in pain, a single, lonely tear ran down her face.

Daemon had warned her.

The hours, the voices, the smells merged into one for her – she heard her uncle's voice, her mother's voice, she smelled their scent and touch, she heard their weeping and despair, but she herself felt like she was dreaming awake, feeling and experiencing nothing.

She felt herself awake when she heard another familiar voice.

"Did she say something?"

"No. She's silent. There's no contact with her. She's in shock." Her mother muttered, and Daemon embraced her, looking her straight in the eyes.

She felt something – she felt her heart hit harder in her chest, her eyebrows arched in misery, her breath caught in her throat.

"– baby – baby, please, say something to me –" She heard her uncle's whisper and only after a moment did she realise that he had been lying next to her on the bed all this time, that he had been stroking her head, that he had been looking at her, that he had been crying like a little baby.

"– get out for a while – leave us alone –" Daemon said – her uncle opened his mouth, furious, but she spoke up before he could say anything.

"– I want to talk to my dad –"

Everyone around her fell silent – Rhaenyra walked over to her brother and took his hand, explaining to him in a whisper that they would be back soon, that she was no longer in danger, that everything would be all right.

She felt herself quivering all over when Daemon took the chair and sat down beside her bed exactly as he had done then, after she had tried to take her own life.

She looked at him, into his bright, piercing eyes, and thought that this was what he was trying to protect her from.

"I wanted this child, dad. Very, very much." She muttered and closed her eyes, feeling the blissful emptiness she had surrounded herself with begin to crack, the pain that pierced her body, her heart so strong that she sobbed.

"I know." He replied.

"Is the baby…is the baby still inside me?" She choked out with difficulty, whooping with her own tears, feeling like she couldn't catch her breath.

"No. I'm very sorry, but no. It was too early, the baby was not yet formed. Nothing could be done." He said and she clamped her hands on her lower abdomen, thinking she felt like ripping out her uterus and other entrails because they were useless.

She was full and suddenly empty again.

She felt her father's hand on her arm, his fingers strong, his embrace giving her a sense of security.

"I have abandoned you. I chose my own pride. I knew he would want to take revenge on him. If I had given you my protection, it would never have happened. Forgive me." He said, and she closed her eyes, thinking that she wanted to become nothingness and disappear.

Despite Daemon continuing to speak to her, she fell into a state of half-sleep again, unable to think about it – her mind was repressing everything that had happened and waiting, although she didn't know what for.

What was she actually waiting for?

For her baby, she thought.

Little girl or little boy will be born in a few months.

No, she realised.

Not any more.

Tears ran down her face, but no sound came out of her mouth.

She saw him – her uncle stood in the doorway of her hospital room drenched in tears, trembling like a small child, just like she had been when she came into his room then, terrified of the darkness.

Darkness surrounded him, and he was frightened.

She didn't want him to be afraid.

He cried out loudly when she reached out her hand to him – she realised it was already dark around him when his body snuggled against hers, when he embraced her and kissed her cheek, when his face snuggled into her skin.

They lay, just breathing, holding hands – there was something comforting about that – in his silence. The fact that he knew there were no words of comfort, of justification, of absolution for them.

What did exist, however, were their bodies, warm and familiar, clinging to each other to find shelter.

She fell asleep, wrapped in his scent.

"I know you think this is my fault. That you will never forgive me." She heard his voice as if from a distance – she blinked, surprised to see that it was already daylight all around her, that her uncle was sitting beside her in a chair, looking at his hands.

Days flew by between her fingers.

How long had it been since that incident?

Since when had she been empty?

She pressed her lips together, feeling nothing but rage.

"I want Tyland Lannister." She hissed in a cold, shaking voice, and he looked at her in shock.

They stared at each other for a moment – his lower lip twitched when he suddenly realised what had happened, something in his gaze that had always frightened her, but now pleased her.

Aemond

Emptiness.

It seemed to him that he had simply gone through all the phases of grief – from despair, through denial, to a state of complete indifference.

His child, whom he had so desperately wanted, was no longer there.

He thought it would help to give the baby a funeral, even though they had nothing to bury – that's why they put the glowing stickers they had stuck on the walls of the room that was to belong to their child in a small box and buried it under a tree in the garden of their house.

She wanted the thing that would remind her of their loss to be close by, so that she could look at it every morning from her window.

It was an ordeal they lived through together, and although they suffered, they found relief in each other's arms.

She let him take her for the first time two weeks after it happened.

Lying in front of him in his embrace, she took his hand in hers and slowly guided it down under the material of her panties – she surprised him with this, because he was convinced that the vision of him touching her like this would be something disgusting to her – she, however, was wet.

He couldn't hide how much he missed her, and after a moment they were both naked from the waist down, fucking each other like animals with loud smacks of their hips, wanting nothing more than to feel fulfilled and relieved – the release he felt when he finally came inside her was like a revelation, her body hot and sweaty in his embrace, her little cunt pulsing on his erection, sucking his seed.

I'll give you another baby, he thought tenderly, kissing her long neck, not saying it out loud though, not wanting her to think he had already reconciled himself to their loss.

I will give you another baby, and then another and another.

We will be a big, happy family.

If he could say that anything good had come out of this awfully sad situation, it was that their families had begun to talk to each other again – Otto and Daemon couldn't forgive the murder of their grandchild, and Alicent, Rhaenyra, Jace and Baela had watched over his niece in his absence, looking after her.

Even Aegon asked him for a meeting, which was strange and downright comical. His brother put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him in a way from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

"We're going to catch that son of a bitch."

The only person who was afraid to meet them was Helaena, blaming herself for what had happened despite the fact that neither he nor his Rhaenys resented her.

"She said she wanted to go shopping. Your house and the beach was across the street. I-I had the security guards go and take her dress to your house. She wanted to take a walk, she insisted. I…"

"Stop. You are not the one who did this to her. No one is blaming you." He said calmly, staring dully ahead, sitting in his car, feeling that his heart, his skin, his body, his breath were cold.

I want Tyland Lannister.

He licked his lower lip when he spotted his silhouette in the distance, coming out of one of the clubs surrounded by a few of his thugs, surely for protection.

Jason helped his brother move to another city, hoping they would never find him.

But he was wrong.

"I have to go." He said and hung up, starting the engine, dialing another number.

He never thought that he'd talk to him of his own free will.

And yet.

"He just left."

He followed him for a few streets, driving a few cars behind him, feeling strangely calm and patient – he had the impression that there were no more tears he could cry or screams he could shout.

His persona had come full circle, becoming again exactly who he had been before she had called him that evening for the first time in eight years.

He smiled, seeing that they had realised that someone was following them, trying to change direction suddenly – as he had predicted, they had fallen straight into their trap, and hundreds of loud gunshots rang out around the corner.

He pulled over to the side of the road and stepped out of the car, watching as Daemon's men slaughtered Tyland's men one by one, surprised by the manhunt from both sides, unprepared for such a sudden, merciless attack.

"– please –" Tyland mumbled, crawling on the ground at Daemon's feet – his sister's husband held a baseball bat in his hand, all dirty from his blood.

He thought with amusement that Lannister's face looked like a squashed tomato.

Together with Daemon, he dragged him, moaning and crying, to the boot of his car, locking him in there, and together they set off without exchanging a word.

By the time they reached the house by the sea there was only an hour left until dawn – Tyland had passed out in the boot from a lack of oxygen, and a strong kick to the liver revived him, making him draw in air loudly and cough, spitting up blood.

"– no – no, no, no, no, please, no –" He whined as they began dragging him along the ground towards the door, leaving a trail of his blood on the ground behind them.

When they walked into the house they threw him to his knees in front of her – his Rhaenys looked at his hunched, pathetic figure sitting in front of him on the couch in a white dress he was seeing for the first time, a knife in her hand.

Was this supposed to be her wedding gown?

I have taken away your purity and innocence, he thought with pain, looking at her with adoration.

Kora was no longer there.

Only Persephone was left.

His Queen of the Hades.

He longed to lie down at her feet and simply abide.

"– I lost someting because of you –" She said and raised herself up, touching her lower abdomen. "– my baby didn't even manage to take their first breath –"

He closed his eyes, feeling the squeeze in his throat, the pain he felt in his heart unbearable.

"– I didn't know – I didn't know, I'm sorry, I didn't know –" Tyland mumbled, because of how swollen his face was his words were indistinct and difficult to understand.

Standing over him, in her white dress, with a knife in her hand and with her beautiful hair loose, she looked like a ghost.

Like Death.

"– you threw me out of the car like an animal – you left me to die and drove away –" She whispered, tears one after another rolling down her beautiful, tired, pale face.

She had waited so long for this.

For relief.

For justice.

But no more.

"– please – please –" He begged, and she took a step towards him and knelt before him, looking straight into his eyes.

"– let me, Rhaenys –" He muttered, not wanting her to burden herself with this, to dream nightmares like him, to suffer like him because of what she had done.

"– no – I want to feel the life drain out of him – as it did out of me, then –" She said, and the knife she held in her hand stabbed into his side like butter.

Tyland wailed, grabbing the hilt, but Daemon held him down, preventing him from moving – he saw her slide the blade out, a huge bloodstain spilling down his shirt, dripping down his leg straight onto the foil-lined floor.

"That's enough. I'll take care of the rest. Take a bath and burn everything." Daemon instructed, laying Tyland's barely alive body on the ground, his breathing shallow until his eyes went blank.

His soul had left his body.

"Come." He said to her, taking the knife from her palm, placing it on the floor. He nodded at Daemon and grabbed her hand, leading her upstairs to the bathroom where the bathtub was.

Her entire dress and hands were in blood.

"Come here, little one. Come, let's wash it all off. It's okay, honey." He whispered, hugging her close, sinking his hands into her soft, smooth curls, and she reciprocated the embrace, sighing, closing her eyes as if relieved.

"Thank you."

Again she lay in the bath red with blood, again she was pale, however this time he felt that the life was not escaping from her, but returning to her – with each passing minute her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide as if her mind had returned to reality.

"Is he dead?" She muttered, and he swallowed hard, washing away with his hands any trace of what they had done from her beautiful, innocent body.

"He's no longer here. He's disappeared. He was just a monster from the wardrobe, nothing more, my love." He said quietly and she sighed, her hand touching his face.

"Do you still love me?" She asked in a trembling voice, and he looked at her, shocked.

"You are the love of my life. You need to rest. You are very tired. You haven't slept well in a long time. You're daydreaming." He replied, taking an unruly strand of hair from her face, her gaze warm and tender, meant only for him.

"Are you not disgusted with me? I've done something monstrous. I think I killed someone." She whispered, her eyes full of tears.

"– shhh –" He hushed her, pressing his forehead against hers, stroking her hair as if she were a small child. "– I forbid you to say such things – it will be our secret – mine, yours and your dad's – only we will know about it –"

"– about the monster from the wardrobe? –" She mumbled, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

Rhaenys

"– I'm scared, mummy – can I have my little lamp lit today too? –" Aemma muttered, but before she could answer her anything, she heard a voice from the bed above them, belonging to Visenya.

"– no, I can't sleep then –" Her older sister hissed, looking down at them, the bright curls she had inherited from her father in disarray.

"– I'm afraid of the monster from the television – the one from the horror movie that Aegon was watching –" Her daugther said in a breaking voice, and she furrowed her brow, shaking her head.

"– I told you this is not a film for small children –" She said sternly, and Aemma lowered her gaze on the verge of crying.

Vinseya groaned in frustration and climbed down the ladder, lying down under the duvet next to her little sister.

"– move along, coward – I'll kill any monster that disturbs my sleep –" Her daughter muttered, and she smiled and stood up, turning off the lamp.

"– good night –" She hummed and left, closing the door behind her.

She sighed, seeing the light on in his office, and moved lazily in that direction, finding him bent over documents. He glanced at her, then at the silhouette of her naked body hidden only beneath a soft silk bathrobe, and licked his lower lip with his tongue.

"– I'll come soon – give me a moment longer –"

"– talk to Aegon tomorrow – he mustn't let Aemma watch horror movies with himself because she is afraid afterwards – she's too little –" She said.

He shook his head, signing a few things.

"– I'll try, but you know him – he'll find a thousand excuses and explanations –" He grunted, and she laughed under her breath.

"– he resembles your brother –" She said amused, leaning her hip against the doorframe, and he snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth lifted upwards.

"– indeed –" He said and looked up at her, his gaze again escaping down to her breasts and then even lower.

"Come here. Sit on the desk." He said, leaning back in his chair, and she obeyed his command with a smile, walking closer with a lazy step.

He stood up as soon as her buttocks touched the tabletop, spreading her thighs apart, making her have to reach back with her hand to catch her balance.

"– ah –" She gasped as his fingertips sank into her fleshy, warm womanhood, collecting her sticky wetness.

"– since when are you in this state? – hm? –" He hummed, pushing her closer to him with an impatient tug of his hand on her ass, the other digging warningly into her delicate skin, trailing it around her swollen clit.

"– since this morning – since I saw you come out wet and naked from the bathroom in our bedroom – I've needed you, and you haven't touched me –" She mewled regretfully, feeling her walls clench greedily around nothing, craving him inside her.

What he heard was enough for all his foreplay, and with her help he quickly undid the belt of his trousers, his breath heavy and hitched.

"– after all, I fucked you last night – I had to drive Aegon and Visenya to training – you could have joined me in the shower –" He exhaled, impatiently releasing his long, hard erection from his boxers.

She sighed and tilted her head back as, without even waiting for her response, he directed the head of his cock against her slit, opening her wide on his fat length, filling her with himself with one, lazy thrust.

"– uncle – o-oh, fuck, uncle, yes, yes, yes –" She cried out, resting her hands behind her back, letting the material of her bathrobe slide off her shoulders, revealing her breasts full of milk, bouncing each time his hips pounded against her buttocks.

"– God, be quiet – shhh, be good or I won't let you come – is that what you want? –" He breathed out and she bit her bottom lip with her teeth, looking up at him pleadingly, something in her gaze from which he began to slam into her like mad, himself struggling to restrain himself not to moan.

"– that's what I thought – you come to me – ah – begging with those big eyes for my cock – and then you can't even fucking behave –" He growled and sighed, feeling her struggling to stifle a sob of pleasure when another thrust against that same sweet spot made her fall apart in front of him, panting heavily along with him, the next few loud, sticky slaps of their bodies were enough for him to cum with a sigh of relief.

They knew each other's bodies all too well by now and, with amusement, found more and more that they had trouble holding back from coming too early.

It was just too pleasant.

"– I'm pregnant –" She whispered, and he blinked and looked at her, as if he needed a moment to start thinking soberly after such intense fulfilment.

"– what? – but –" He exhaled.

"– I'm sure – I went to the doctor today –"

"– you lied to me –" He said with irritation in his voice.

"– Criston drove me there – I told you I would go shopping with him and we did after the appointment – no lies –" She said with a smile, touching her belly affectionately.

Her husband sighed, placing his hand on hers, the expression on his face calm and gentle again.

"– it's the sixth – what a big family indeed –" He hummed, and she laughed, nodding her head.

"– yes, my love – another child to drive to training –" She said amused, and he kissed her forehead with tenderness, from which a pleasant warmth spread over her heart.

"– don't sit here too long –" She sighed, jumping off his desk as soon as he slid out of her.

"– I won't –"

On her way to their bedroom, she walked into their youngest child's room and smiled, covering her little son more tightly with the duvet. Aemon's leg immediately pushed the bedclothes off him with his mutter of displeasure, so she gave up and left him alone.

She froze, spotting a silhouette in the corner of the room, thinking it was a man, with bright eyes, blonde hair and a beard, but was relieved when, after a moment, she noticed that it was the only shadow cast by the wardrobe standing nearby.

When she walked into their bedroom, she immediately turned on the lamp by their bed and waited patiently for him to return.

She knew she wouldn't fall asleep anyway.

When she was alone in bed, she saw his face and her hands sticky with blood.

When she heard her uncle's footsteps, when his warm body finally lay down beside her and his lips placed a soft, sticky kiss on her neck, she turned off the light, his whisper next to her ear like the calm hum of the wind.

"– now I will let you moan as much as you wish –"

"– Aegon – don't let her swim out into the deep water – Daeron, Visenya keep an eye on her, after all you can see she can't swim well yet –" He shouted to their children the next day, lying in front of her on a towel on the beach, little Aemon, sitting next to them, was building a sandcastle, the hot sun burning their skin.

"– okay, Dad! –" She heard Daeron voice behind her, lying on her stomach in her black one-piece bathing suit with her back cut out, reading a book, her husband's doctoral thesis on an excavation he had run with her in one of the cities the year before.

"– what do you think? – it's the last time for corrections – I've read it hundreds of times and it already makes me want to vomit when I look at it –" He said disapprovingly, turning his gaze towards the sea again.

"– it's the best doctoral thesis I've ever read – really –" She said softly, turning the page, amazed at how effortlessly her husband wrote.

"– look, mummy – it's a fortress, and here's the moat – and there's a dragon on top –" Mumbled Aemon, forcing the Mighty Vhagar figurine that had once belonged to his father onto the top of the tower.

"– beautiful, darling – it looks like the real thing –" She said with warm approval, and Aemon smiled broadly, satisfied, busying himself with creating a bridge over the moat from sticks.

"– Aemma, don't swim so far away – how many times do I have to tell you? –" Her uncle called out, raising himself angrily on his elbow, and she sighed heavily, throwing him a look full of pity.

"– she has swimming sleeves that are full of air that will float her even if she stops moving her arms and legs – she won't drown –" She said, and her husband sighed heavily, looking anxiously towards their children playing in the water.

"– I prefer to be sure –" He muttered.

She looked at him tenderly for a moment, feeling nothing but warmth in her heart.

He was such a good father.

Such a good husband.

She knew that one day they would have to explain to their children why they only had a church wedding and were not married before the state.

But not yet.

"So let's make sure. We should swim with them." She said, extending her hand to him, and he looked at her, apparently recalling their conversation in his car then, many years ago, when he had described his fantasy to her.

He licked his lips with his tongue and grinned in a way she loved.

"Come."

______

Author's note: The child that Rhaenys lost was Viserys: I decided that this story, because it is so dark, could not end differently, and the decisions of the characters had to lead to tragedy sooner or later. Something dies in Rhaenys, but thanks to this she can finally fully join her husband in their Hades, crossing the border of innocence and naivety, maturing in a kind of cruel way. However, the rest of their children, who appeared in the original series, are born. After losing Viserys (in this version they did not know that it would be a boy), they decided that they wanted to have as many children as God would give them, since he took one away from them (in their eyes one too many). Visenya and Aegon will definitely become mafia bosses in the future, just like their father, lol. Their children have the same characters and looks like in the original series, which you can see here.

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aemondapologistfrfr · 5 months ago

Text

The Knight of Your Dreams

addam velaryon(of hull) x targ!fem!reader

Summary: You help Addam learn the ways of dragon riding. Feelings start to emerge the more time you spend with him.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, oral(f receiving), fingering, p in v

Authors Note: me wanting to read an addam ff but there’s like 2 so i’ll do it myself!!, reader is rider of silverwing bc that’s a pretty ass dragon let me be obsessed w her, oldest daughter is the therapist for mothers and i recognize that as the baby, jace was kind of bitchy in ep7 and it’s reflected in here bc i was lowkey gagged like i get his trauma but damn acting like harwins traits aren’t fine asf 🙄

Word Count: 3k

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Jaces voice cracks as he begs Rhaenyra to get rid of Seasmokes new rider. I feel for him but in a time of war for the crown we need all the help we can get. Rhaenyra is at a loss for words and looks to him sadly. I turn to him as his tears begin to fall.

“Brother,” I start.

“No,” he sniffles. “You wouldn’t get it. You have the silver hair and violet eyes. Everyone knows what I am.” he words have a bite behind it like I had a choice in my parentage, like any of us had a choice in our parentage.

“Jacaerys,” Rhaenyra walks to him to comfort him but he’s running out of the hall. She turns to me and sighs. She walks back to her desk as takes a seat.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper not knowing what to say to comfort her.

“It’s not your fault. I just never expected him to say those things.” she looks to me sadly as I take a seat on the other side of her desk.

“I don’t think he meant it out of malice. It’s just something he’s felt his entire life and it seemed to be bubbling over.” I try to find reason in his actions and words.

“Have I too not had accusations and insults thrown at me for the entirety of my life?” she places her head in her hands.

“You have had more years to subjugate those accusations.” my words are soft.

“Yes, I know. I had just thought maybe he wouldn’t have blamed me so fiercely. I’m trying. This was his idea after all. I can’t change the past and I won’t be dismissing Addam.” my ears perk up at finally hearing the new riders name.

“I don’t think he blames you, mother. What could you do? Father didn’t have a taste for women like us.” a playful smile comes to my lips.

“And I never faulted him for that. He was a kind and caring man. Who raised you regardless.” she looks off as our minds drift to Laenor.

“If it makes you feel any better he seemed to also blame me.” I shrug my shoulders looking to her.

“It doesn’t,” he exhales deeply. “I don’t want this to cause a rift between you two, but I fear what I’m going to ask of you may further it.” her eyes look to mine pleading.

“What can I do?” I ask tilting my head.

“I need to focus on finding a rider for Vermithor. I need you to help train Addam. You know what a fresh bond from a full grown dragon feels like. Help him learn some commands, take him flying, do what you must to prepare him. Please, daughter.” her eyes begging.

“Of course,” I nod my head and begin to rise.

“Thank you,” she rises with me and offers me a hug before I leave the hall.

I walk out of the hall and begin my journey to the guest chambers. I have no idea what to expect from this man. As I’m approaching the door Corlys walks out.

“Lord Corlys,” I nod my head to him.

“Princess, what can I do for you?” he stops in front of me.

“I’m to help Addam learn the ways of dragon riding.” I offer him a smile.

“He worked hard on my docks and I expect nothing less from him in the skies.” his words sound almost proud.

“I would expect nothing less from the man Seasmoke claimed.” my smile widens. Corlys nods to me once more before leaving down the hall. I let out and exhale and knock on the door.

“Come,” a deep voice comes from within. I slowly open the door and turn my head around the corner. The man standing before me takes my breath away and I’m quick to advert my eyes as I seal the door shut behind me.

“I am Princess Y/n. Rhaenyra has sent me to help train you in the ways of dragon riding.” I smile softly to him as I walk deeper into his chambers.

“I’m honored, Princess.” he bows deeply as I chuckle walking to him.

“We have no need to bow as dragon riders.” I stand in front of him as he rises with a sheepish smile.

“Of course, Princess.” he starts to bow his head again but stops himself.

“Y/n.” I softly correct. “No need for titles either.” as I look up to him at his full height.

“Y/n,” he smiles down to me and I can’t help but smile back. “I am Addam.” he offers me his name.

“Addam.” his name falls off my tongue. “Rider of Seasmoke. Tell me how that happened.” I go to sprawl across his couch.

“He hunted me down himself.” he claims a chair across from me. “I was on the shores and Seasmoke started circling the sands. He usually flies around Driftmark so I thought nothing of it. Until he started flying directly at me. I’ll admit I fled to the trees. He had no trouble finding me anyways.” he bites his lip sliding his eyes to me.

“He claimed you?” I sit up on the couch searching his eyes.

“Yes, only a fool would approach a dragon.” he shakes his head.

“So you think I’m a fool, Addam?” I tilt my head smirking.

“No, I didn’t say that, Princess,” he stutters and looks at me worriedly.

“I claimed a dragon. I wasn’t gifted a dragon egg as a babe, but that wouldn’t stop me. I used to sneak through the pits to look at them and one day I got too close to Silverwing and now I have a dragon.” I smile thinking back to that day. Rhaenyra was livid but so proud.

“I didn’t mean any offense, Princess.” he uses my title once again.

“Y/n,” I correct rising off of the couch.

“Y/n,” he looks up to me.

“Let’s go to the library. I’d like to help you learn some commands and High Valyrian.” I hum as I walk to the door and hear him jump to his feet.

“I’d be honored if you taught me, my Prin- Y/n,” I smile at his correction.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

We’re all sitting around the dining table enjoying a meal in silence. Jace has somewhat settled over the past fortnight about Addam and sourcing another for Vermithor. Addam has been doing excellent in learning High Valyrian and is getting more comfortable around dragons.

“How fares your classes with Y/n?” Rhaenyra asks looking between me and Addam.

“She’s been absolutely perfect. She’s very patient with me, yet never fails to give me a hard time.” he turns and smiles to me chuckling.

“You usually deserve it.” my eyes crinkle as a smile spreads across my face.

“I’m thankful you’re feeling more confident.” Corlys nods from Rhaenyras side.

“Flying is just..” Addam trails off not being able to find the word of how euphoric it truly is. Jace lets out a scoff and I feel Addam turn in on himself next to me making my brows furrow.

“What the fuck are you still so mad about?” I snap down the table at him.

“Y/n,” Rhaenyra scolds.

“You’ve avoided Addam for the past fortnight. He isn’t here to begrudge you. Seasmoke chose him and he had no choice in the matter. What is it that you want us to do, Jace?” I rise from my chair to look at him.

“Y/n, please,” Addam looks up to me with pleading eyes. Jace mumbles something under his breath before scraping his chair against the stone and leaving the hall.

“To your chambers.” Rhaenyras eyes narrow on me and I roll my eyes and leave the hall.

I walk up the stairs as anger and frustration are still flowing out of me. I don’t know why I’m so protective over Addam. He’s just so sweet and so innocent. I don’t know why Jace wouldn’t try and bond with him. They have more in common than he knows. I push my chamber doors open and slam them behind me. I pull a book out from my shelf to get lost in for a couple hours.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“Come,” I call looking up from my book to see Addam enter. “I hope my mother wasn’t too angry after I left.” I smile as he clicks the door shut.

“No, just a little frustrated.” he sits next to me on the couch. “What are you reading?” he pulls the book out of my hands playfully and begins to read aloud. “So the knight rushed up the stairs to save the Princess and-“

“Addam,” I whine trying to pull the book from him.

“Oh, but it was just getting good.” he smiles raising the book above his head out of my reach. I go to stand to reach it and he stands himself to tower over me. “Seems like you’re too short, Princess.” he chuckles looking down to me.

“Addam,” I pout looking up to him.

“You’re too cute.” he pinches my cheek with his free hand and I can feel my blush creep up my neck. “I was coming to see if I could sneak you out of here and we could go for a moonlight ride?” he offers my book back to me.

“I would love to.” I snatch my book from him.

“I’m surprised you’re so willing to abandon the knight of your dreams.” he chuckles as I toss my book to the couch.

“I’ll return to him later.” I hum as Addam chuckles pulling me out of my chambers.

We quietly make our way down to the pits and our dragons greet us. We offer them warm greetings before we mount and take our saddles. We emerge into the moonlight and our dragons quickly take to the skies. I sigh in relief as the wind whips through my hair. I turn to look at Addam who is equally enjoying our time.

Our dragons twirl and dip around each other playfully. Silverwing drags her claws playfully into the water causing it to spray up on me as I giggle. We slowly start flying back to the pits as Seasmoke sings us a low song. Once we dismount Addam begins to laugh at my sea ruined dress.

“She’s lucky this isn’t one of my favorite dresses.” I huff as we start into the castle.

“It’s not? But you look so pretty in it.” his eyes scan me over as I feel my cheeks heat.

“Thank you, you’re very kind.” I say bashfully.

“I have to compete with the knight in your book somehow.” his fingers dance around mine as I feel my heart pound.

“There’s no competition.” I say hushed grabbing his hand.

He walks me back to my chambers with his hand still in mine. The halls are silent save for the low grumbles of the dragons below. As we stop outside of my chambers he lingers looking down at me.

“Addam,”

“Y/n,” we say each others names at the same time.

“I just want to say thank you. For your kindness, and your patience, and for how much you care. It’s always unexpected.” his eyes search mine.

“You are deserving of kindness and compassion.” I say hushed bringing my hand to his cheek. He dips down and kisses me quickly.

He pulls back before I can even start to enjoy the moment. I furrow my brows and pull his face back down to me. The second kiss is more fierce and passionate. Our tongues dance and caress one another as I melt into him. We pull apart breathing heavily.

“Enjoy the rest of your night and the knight of your dreams.” he smiles down to me before he opens my doors.

“I’ll imagine him as you.” I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face as I slip into my chambers shutting the doors behind me. A small giggle bursts out of me as I’m still giddy from his kiss.

“Princess,” Addams voice comes through my doors once more.

“Yes?” I ask opening my doors.

He lifts me up and brings his lips to mine again. He kicks the door shut as I sigh into his mouth. His hands are digging into my backside as my arms wrap around his back. My hands roam all over his muscled shoulders and back while I get lost in his kiss.

He breaks the kiss by setting me back on the ground as I look up to him trying to catch my breath. He looks to my swollen lips as he licks his own. My hands travel to his chest as I start to lift his shirt off.

“We don’t have to, I didn’t mean to barge in here.” his words tumble out of his mouth as my fingers trail over his muscled torso.

“Mm, but I’m so thankful you did.” I smile looking up to him.

I turn to him so he can begin untying my gown. His fingers make quick work of my gown and I’m soon stepping out of it. I turn to face him as his eyes roam over my body that the slip is doing nothing to hide. Once his eyes lock back onto mine he stalks over to me and kisses me.

His hands ghost along my thighs before he slowly starts to lift my slip off of me. He steps back and groans as he takes in my body. He pulls me back to him as his hands begin to roam across my skin. I whimper into his mouth as his hands cup my breasts. His thumbs brush against my nipples pulling a whine from me.

“The noises you make are simply divine.” he whispers against my lips. “I want to hear more.” he says lowly before bringing a hand between my thighs.

“Addam,” I moan as he trails a finger along my slit.

“Mm, I quite like that.” he chuckles as he swirls around my clit as I grip onto his arms.

His other arm supports me as he begins to speed up his movement. My breaths are coming out in pants as my hips chase the pleasure his fingers are offering me. He slips a long finger down to my core and begins to dip in.

“Let me know if it’s too much.” he whispers as he begins pumping slowly.

“Not enough,” I whine breathlessly grinding down on his hand.

He removes his hand and I cry out. He chuckles and pulls me to my bed. I fall back as he continues to push me further up the bed. He begins to unlace his trousers while looking to me. Once he’s freed my eyes drink in his body and my thighs spread open a little more taking in the length of him. He settles between my thighs with his face at my core.

“I don’t care who hears, I want to hear you.” he says lowly before attaching his mouth to my wetness.

My hips jolt up into his face as his tongue laps at my clit. He circles two fingers around my entrance before slowly sliding them in. A sob tears through me as my legs shutter. His free hand trails up my torso and claims one of my breasts and begins to tease one of my nipples.

“Yes, please Addam,” I beg as my hand rests around his that’s pinching and pulling my sensitive bud.

His tongue quickens at my words and my jaw goes slack as whimpers fall from my mouth. His fingers start to pound into me as my hips grind into his face. I cry out his name as pleasure washes through me as he starts to untangle himself from me.

He snakes up my body before crashing his lips into mine. I sigh against him as I taste myself on his tongue. As he settles between my thighs I feel his length gliding through my wetness.

“Are you ready?” he pulls back looking down at my squirming body.

“Yes,” I nod as my chest rises and falls rapidly.

He begins to push into me watching my face and drinking in my noises. Once he’s fully sheathed he brings his lips to mine. I whine as his hips begin to slowly rock into me. The stretch of him is making my head spin as I become lost in the pleasure. My legs wrap around his waist and his hips snap into mine at the new angle causing me to sob out.

“‘m sorry.” he grunts trying to slow his movements.

“More,” I whimper bucking my hips into his.

He kisses me fiercely once more as he begins to snap his hips into mine. I moan into his mouth as his pace speeds up. I’m slowly sliding up the bed and he continues to move with me lowly chuckling. My head hits the headboard as I moan loudly.

“Sorry,” he breathes out and places a pillow between my head and the wood.

His hips never falter as he brings a hand between us and starts to circle my clit. I sob as pleasure course through me as I clench around him. His hips shutter but his fingers and hips keep up their movements as I screw my eyes shut at the repeated pleasure. Shockwaves continue to flow through me as his trusts become stronger.

“Addam,” I whine as pleasure starts to burst through me again.

He twitches inside of me and I feel warmth spreading throughout. My legs fall from his waist as my breaths continue to come out in pants. He pulls out of me and falls to the other side of the mattress. We sit there catching our breaths before I turn to him and kiss him once more.

“Was I better than the knight in your book?” he offers me a lopsided smile.

“Considering the knight in my book is just my fingers, yes.” I giggle kissing him again.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

masterlist 🔌

#hotd smut #addam velaryon #addam of hull #addam velaryon x reader #addam of hull x reader #addam velaryon smut #addam of hull smut #x reader smut #x reader #x reader fic #smut #hotd fic

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bumblesimagines · 6 months ago

Text

One More Hour

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: He/Him/His

Summary: As a child, Jace learns the hard way not to mess with his young uncle, Aemond. However, as growing man, he can't help the newfound curiosity.

CW/TW: Targcest/incest (Jace and reader are uncle-nephew), typical Got and HOTD warnings, Jace might feel OOC, takes place in s1, unknown age gap but Jace is like 18/19 and (Y/N) in his early to mid twenties, kinda cheating? (Jace and Baela).

AAHEEEM.

~~~

Jace could do nothing more than stare at his plate with his fists resting over his thighs, one ear listening to the annoying whispering from his uncle while the other desperately tried focusing on the conversations floating around the room. The tension had lessened significantly since everyone first settled down at the dining table for the first time in many years but it did little to prevent Aegon from being a bother. It certainly didn't help that across the table sat his other uncle, (Y/N), who watched the two of them with immense amusement.

He'd changed since Jace last saw him. No longer a child on the verge of teenagehood but a man-grown talented in sword fighting and the art of making ladies swoon. His silver locks looked vibrant in the warm candlelight and each time Jace glanced upward, his grew captivated with the twinkle of his violet eyes. (Y/N) appeared poised, relaxed and content, with a cup of wine in his hand that he occasionally sipped from as dinner continued. His eyes flickered between observing Jace and checking on his twin, Helaena.

Jace still vividly remembered the only proper interaction he'd ever had with (Y/N), for the Targaryen often kept to the library or hung around his twin whilst she worked on her embroideries or played with bugs. The two never strayed too far from one another, so much so that it'd surprised Jace when he'd heard the news of Helaena and Aegon's wedding.

It'd been a warm day full of joy and wonder as Jace and Luke had welcomed their newest baby brother into the family, a sleepy little newborn by the name of Joffery. Of course, despite the wonderful addition to their family, Jace and Luke had plotted with Aegon to prank their uncle, Aemond, whose dragon egg had refused to hatch in the cradle. It was a subject of teasing for them all, harmless and playful in Jace's opinion, but it seemed like not all believed a clumsily put together wings on a pig and offering it over to Aemond had been a fun prank.

Roughly fifteen minutes had passed and the boys all continued giggling and laughing about it, recounting the look on Aemond's face between snickers, when the door was pushed open and in walked (Y/N) with Helaena trailing behind, her hands cupped and cradling a spider. She barely batted an eye at them, even when (Y/N) strolled up to his older brother and slammed his knee into his groin, only muttering quietly to herself about things the boys couldn't quite understand.

Jace's amusement in Aegon's pain as he toppled over with a low groan was short-lived, as (Y/N)'s hand curled into a fist and swiftly connected with Jace's jaw. He'd landed the hit well and hard enough for Jace to topple onto the floor as well, crying out in pain as he held a hand to his slowly bruising jaw. Little Luke had attempted to jump to his brother's defense but his smaller frame was easily pushed onto the floor and angry tears sprang into his eyes.

In the end, Rhaenyra and Alicent had argued over who was in the wrong whilst King Viserys lectured them on fighting outside of training.

But Jace thought of the interaction often, thought of how cool (Y/N) had looked bringing his brother to his knees so easily. Even though his jaw tingled each time the two made eye contact, Jace couldn't help the awe that bubbled in his chest. (Y/N) appeared fully in his element, only observing and providing little input throughout dinner. Regal and with looks that spoke for themselves, such as the one he sent Aegon that forced the older boy back into his chair with a scowl. Otto smiled approvingly. The favorite of his grandchildren, Jace assumed.

Dinner, however, ended with an outburst covered up to be a speech from Aemond with thinly veiled insults. Their parentage had always been a sore topic for the Velaryon boys and his temper got the best of Jace, prompting him to lash out and cause a stirrup that forced the night to end with all the children instructed to head to their respective bedchambers.

Jace, of course, fumed all the way to his and Luke's temporary shared bedchambers, although he couldn't find a wink of sleep in his simmering anger and humiliation. Luke had already nearly been brought to tears when their blood had been put to question for courtiers to see by Vaemond Velaryon, they hardly needed a repeat. So, when sleep proved to be a hopeless desire, Jace slipped out into the halls and reacquainted himself with them until he noticed his uncle leaning against the railing of one of the balconies.

"Uncle," Jace greeted him quietly, the chill of the cool night air bringing goosebumps to his skin. (Y/N) spared him a glance, his attention more captivated by the sky. When Jace squinted through the dark and clouds above, he noticed the silhouettes of two dragons flying together, almost playing from the soft rumbles and half-hearted nips. "Dreamfyre and Grey Ghost get along well, it seems."

"Sometimes I wonder if they're bonded, as Helaena and I are." (Y/N) responded, his voice gentle and soothing to the ear. His eyes tracked the two dragons until they disappeared well above the clouds, finally diverting his attention to his nephew. Jace swallowed under his keen gaze. "The hour is late, Jacaerys, yet you are up."

"So are you."

"You've seen my reasons." (Y/N) nodded toward the sky. "What are yours, little prince?"

The heat that enveloped his face surprised Jace. "I... I could not sleep." He answered, and hoped the darkness around them hid his reddened skin from the Targaryen. Not many brought such a reaction to him. Sure, there were pretty ladies at court who caught his eye, his newly betrothed among them, but such intense heat...

"Aemond only meant to anger you and you gave him precisely what he wanted. He wishes to get even for what happened in our youth now that he's capable of protecting himself." The rings adorning his fingers glimmered in the moonlight, drawing Jace's gaze to them before it flickered back to his face.

"We were children." Jace insisted.

"But not toddlers incapable of knowing right from wrong." (Y/N) lifted his brows and Jace fell silent, cheeks puffing out slightly when he scoffed quietly. The Targaryen reached out toward him, fingertips grasping his jaw and running along it until they reached the exact spot his knuckles had met years prior. He grinned. "I taught you a lesson because of it, didn't I, sweet nephew?"

Jace shivered, unable to tell if the goosebumps were still from the cold or his touch. The cool metals of his rings pressed against Jace's warm skin, the designs engraved in them leaving marks when his hold tightened. His instincts screamed at him to pull away, to create distance between himself and (Y/N), for the gleam in his violet eyes only spelled trouble. Jace remained still, however, unable to break away from the trance.

"Velaryon seed is strong," (Y/N) murmured, his hand moving to touch the brown strands Jace had inherited from his real father, from Harwin Strong. He'd accepted it long ago. He was no fool. If Laenor Velaryon had truly been his father, he and his brothers would share the signature Targaryen look; those beautiful silver locks. "You are no Velaryon, Jace. But your mother's blood makes you a Targaryen."

"I was raised Velaryon." Jace nearly growled despite the feelings swirling inside him. "My father, Laenor, cared for us-"

"Fuss all you want, Jace. We all know the truth." (Y/N) clicked his tongue and drew closer, hand slipping back to grab his jaws again and hold them, fingertips sinking into his skin with an iron grip that'd likely leave questionable bruises. His lips curled upward in some twisted mix of delight and curiosity. "You may not be Velaryon but you are pretty. I'm sure Father would've insisted you and I wed if you'd been born a lady." He leaned in close enough for their noses to bump and whispered lowly, "You would've been swollen with a babe by now if that'd been the case."

Jace gaped at him, heat spreading through his body like dragonfire and making his breeches abruptly feel far too tight. His brows knitted together and his hands flew up to slam against (Y/N)'s chest. His uncle willingly released him and stepped back with a short laugh that echoed through the hall. "What makes you think I would've wished for that?" He bristled despite the redness on his cheeks and aching in his stomach.

"Look at yourself, darling nephew," (Y/N) cooed, invading Jace's personal space again and forcing him against the railing, the roughness of the stone pressing against Jace's palms when he clung onto it. A strangled gasp escaped the brunette when (Y/N)'s hands grasped the underside of his thighs and lifted them, pressing Jace against him. Jace failed to swallow the whimper in his throat when (Y/N) moved his hips against him. Fear invaded his veins at the realization (Y/N) could easily push him over the edge and into an untimely death but it mixed deliciously with everything else.

"You-"

"What is it, Jace? You look so red." (Y/N) snickered. He truly was the brother of Aemond and Aegon. "Imagine what sweet Baela would think if she saw you like this. I'm sure she'd be horrified and humiliated by her future husband."

"Fuck you." Jace spat, the grooves and bumps in the railing digging into the skin of his hand. (Y/N) quirked a brow and released Jace's thighs, making him stumble as he regained his footing and released a heavy exhale of relief. His uncle clasped his hands behind his back and chuckled again.

"If that's how you feel, nephew, then I'll bid you goodnight. Safe travels." (Y/N)'s smile morphed into one that could be mistaken for genuine and kind before he turned and headed down the hall to his bedchambers. Jace stared after him, feeling breathless and angry and so annoyingly aroused.

Digging his teeth into his lip, he peeled himself from the railing and followed the older prince to his bedchambers, his annoyance growing at the way (Y/N) ignored his presence yet allowed him inside his bedchambers. The door slid to a close behind him and Jace's heart fluttered at the smirk (Y/N) sent him over his shoulder. Jace lunged forward, bawling up the collar of his shirt in his hands and tugging him closer, their lips slamming together and teeth almost clacking.

(Y/N)'s bit Jace's lip hard enough to draw a trickle of blood and leaned back. "Behave." He huffed at him. Jace smirked, the blood smearing on his teeth.

"I don't think so."

It'd been a near hour later when sleep finally crawled up his spine and threatened to lull him into a deep slumber. His lips felt swollen and tinted red from blood; the skin across his body was littered with suckled bruises and teeth marks; his jaw and hips ached with a burn Jace had never felt before; his throat felt hoarse and in desperate need of rest. Thoroughly exhausted and with the events at dinner temporarily erased from his mind, just as he wanted.

(Y/N) remained laying on top of him with his chest pressed to Jace's back and made no move to release Jace from his tight hold. Jace hardly minded despite the aching and the part of him that whined for milk of the poppy to soothe him. His cheek nuzzled against the spit and sweat-drenched pillow, hardly paying attention to anything other than the feeling of (Y/N) on and in him.

"What a shame." (Y/N) purred teasingly, his breath tickling Jace's ear. "I thought it'd take a little more to break you."

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the-fiction-witch · 6 months ago

Text

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,

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bucknastysbabe · 5 months ago

Note

For king aeg and his smutty angst...

What about a forced/arranged marriage (potentially a team black lady/princess kept by the greens and made to marry aeg?). Of course, she absolutely supports the blacks and therefore hates aegon and the greens. But it's their wedding night, they have to 'do their duty', right?

Brain didn't really come up with anything more than that. It's basically hate sex 😂

ℜ𝔢𝔡 𝔅𝔢𝔡𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 - 𝔄𝔢𝔤𝔬𝔫 ℑℑ 𝔵 ℌ𝔞𝔩𝔣-𝔰𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯!ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

I FINALLY DID IT BABY I HIPEBYOU ENJOY MWAH MWAH MWAH MOTHER LANA ILY AND YOUR GOOD VIBES ALWAYS❤️

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: TW//blood play, Degredation, rough handling, Aegon being a fuckhead, some fighting from her, attempted murder, very toxic. Time skips, Consensual sex, pnv!sex, tiddy sucking, FERAL👹, arranged marriage, tb reader

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk @aemondfairy @arcielee @dr-aegon @elaratyrell @fairysluna @jamespotterismydaddy @jacesvelaryons @lovelykhaleesiii @peachysunrize @targaryen-madness @towriteloveontheirarms @zaldritzosrose

Divider creds: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

You were a hostage by law. You were the younger sister of Rhaenyra. Barely made it past a day when your mother died in the birthing bed while a tourney went on, the Maester’s sure you were to be the boy so dreadfully sought after.

Your sister fought for you to be married elsewhere, perhaps a Celtigar or another Velaryon. Viserys had his mind set on uniting his two different lines of progeny.

Therefore you were betrothed to Aegon, born a mere two years after you. It wasn’t on the forefront of your mind as a child, shadowing Rhaenyra for comfort. In a way, she was the motherly figure you had lost. That was more important than some silly thing that would occur far, far away.

Soon she reached her wedding when you were nine. Life grew tumultuous after that. The ever-present Ser Criston was gone and soon replaced by Laenor and Ser Harwin. Rhaenyra had her first child, Jacaerys. You remember holding him and cooing. He was perfect, yet you were not dumb, the babe’s dark hair was frighteningly similar to Ser Harwin's.

By your six and tenth nameday— you faced being surrounded by your other side of the family, aptly named the Greens for their colors of Hightower. After the tragic fight at Driftmark, Alicent quickly sequestered you off. You had wept and torn at your dresses, Ser Criston holding you back with a stiff arm and stiffer face. Your full blood, the only true connection, left on ships and dragons. Your father didn’t seem to even care, too sickly and worn down.

You’d spat at Alicent, “I hate you.”

She shook her head and sighed, “In due time you will thank me. You’ll be a queen.”

Shoving yourself off of Ser Cole, you glared at the man. He spoke, quiet but brutal, “Consider yourself lucky staying back. Wouldn’t want to get caught up in other affairs.” He earned a sharp retort, to which the queen scoffed and you stormed off.

Alone. To be utterly alone.

That was what the next few months encompassed. You were a ghost in a lively keep. Aegon began to peek his unkempt blonde hair around the same time, the prince growing into a young man. He’d already gained a reputation for an insatiable thirst for wine and women— at the mere age of fourteen.

“So will you be eager to bed me? I have quite the experience,” he said. Aegon sat sprawled on the settee across from your seat, nursing some wine. You raised a brow from your needlepoint and hissed, “Oh yes, of course, I cannot wait to have your Flea Bottom-infested cock within my pristine cunt.”

He snorted, red wine dribbling down his plump lips. Aegon grinned, seemingly not phased by your insult. The prince hummed, “How sweet. I’m saying it now, you’ll come to love it.” A rip tore through the air— startling you both. Your eyes peered down at the needlepoint. You’d grown so annoyed you ripped the fine fabric.

Eyes flicking up to Aegon you barked, “Out of here! Now!”

He scurried away, giggling, promising, “Our wedding is going to be fantastic, my lovely blackened heart!”

You grimaced, standing up to dust your gray dress off. Rhaenyra had kept a line of letter with you— urging you to kill Aegon in his sleep or abscond to Dragonstone. Peering at the unstable, absolutely lethal Ser Criston Cole standing outside your door, those options seemed impossible.

You were well aware of the threat Aegon held to the claim as the heir. The Hightowers were pushing it into every corner they could, pulling strings, lining coats with Lannister gold. Perhaps once you married the idiot, things would be different.

Using your body and status to change the outcome of a disputed throne seemed too silly. Hatred and frustration began to boil within you from that day forward. To the Seven Hells with your father and the green-blooded Hightower children. You hoped the Stranger would take Alicent and her loyal armed dog too.

Nyserion was in the dragon pit. You never got to see your mount. The queen knew you'd escape if possible. He waited for you, you could feel that much.

No.

You'd not flee.

To face your fate whether in victory or flames was a source of pride. You'd marry the whoreson, be the good princess, and wait for the time to come. You would not be overtly kind, but you’d come off as subdued, no longer the biggest threat to their plans. You would walk the line.

Your hatred for Aegon grew as time wore on in the Red Keep. The wedding had arrived. You remained stone cold kissing Aegon and taking your vows. Aegon was now eight and ten. The lanky boy had grown into a handsome, yet sulky and difficult man. He recently chopped his hair off, another sign of rebellion.

You could understand wanting to be far away. Emptiness filled your chest when the red and black cloak of yours was covered with green and gold. Rhaenyra performed the sacred act, tears in her violet eyes. Your father was too weary to do the damn thing he declared so long ago.

Aegon had whispered, “I hate this too, you know.”

“Good.”

Then the bells rang and you two were back to the mummer’s farce. Smiling and waving getting into the carriage, the small folk cheering- tilting your stomach. Aegon’s face morphed into that sullen look he carried around when he was sober. You slumped back against the cushions, sighing.

His violet eyes bore into your pale blue ones. Aegon sniffed, “I expect to be bedding you tonight. It is my right now.” Crossing your arms, you looked out of the small window. The prince cleared his throat, waiting for an answer.

“As is my duty, lord husband,” you sneered.

Aegon giggled— that annoying shriek of his. You lashed out, “Glad that is an entertaining topic for you. Go back to your whores once you've done the deed.”

“Maybe. I have to make sure I get an heir off of you. Gods forbid you're anything like your mother.”

Your vision went red, hopping across the wheelhouse to scratch and claw and scream at Aegon. He gasped in surprise, catching some nails across his pale throat, a part of his hair ripped out. The prince forced you down, holding your arms tight to your chest. He frowned, eyes filled with something.

“I’m sorry, okay, relax, we have to finish this night. Relax!”

You didn’t want to cry, yet the tears fell as you warbled, “You’re cruel. Have some shame.”

He sighed, blonde hair a mess now. Aegon gently helped you back into your seat, ordering you to stay put. He knelt beside you, a big hand touching your shaky knee. Aegon’s eyes seemed to hold some guilt as he murmured, “That was wrong. I…apologize…wife.”

The rest of the ride went in silence, Aegon retreating to his side, poorly attempting to reshape his waves. Neither of you smiled entering the keep to be presented to everyone. The first dance was a boring affair, you found no reason for happiness. Rhaenyra was the only boon, her hugging you and speaking words of revenge.

“You shall have whoever you wish. He will not be your source of unhappiness. When I am queen.”

You blocked out the rest of her words, milling over the idea of Viserys dead— Aegon being thrust upon the throne. It would be war, all-out war. Nodding blankly, you hugged your sister once again to head back to the table, heart beginning to beat fast.

Aegon was slouched back in his chair, eyes lazily roving around the dancing. He was quite drunk, slurring as he spoke. The prince asked, “Y’wanna finish this shit?”

“Make the call,” you replied.

The drunken prince stood up and roared, “It’s time for the fucking!”

Men cheered, and women squealed. Rhaenyra was held tight by Daemon— his face placid. Alicent was embarrassed by the crass wording, a ringed hand covering her face. Soon men lifted and tore at your clothes, exposing you horridly. Aegon laughed as the ladies rid him of his garments.

The pair of you were thrust into his dark chambers. You bounced once from the way they tossed you, grunting in pain. The feeling of handprints and raw skin sent a shudder down your spine. Aegon flopped onto the bed, mumbling.

“Well?” You asked.

“I don’t want to fuck you. Not yet anyways.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips. The tension leaked out of you as you escaped being groped and defiled by the prince. You thanked him quietly, crawling onto the side of the bed, and covering yourself up. Aegon fiddled around before stating, “I’m going to sleep, too drunk to get it up.”

You don’t know why you cried when his breathing turned into a soft snore. Maybe all the emotions boiling over. Soon the tears turned to anger, pissed off from how callous and awful he was. How he would steal the throne. The very image of everything that held you to this gilded cage full of spiders and snakes.

The thought came to you. Lying naked in his chamber, eyes roving around the strange whips and discarded wine bottles. You lit a candle, Aegon dead to the world in his drunken state. You peered around his room, finding a display of carved cocks and plugs of sorts at the end of the bed, frowning. Deviant.

You walked further, stopping as a sharp pain nicked your big toe. Picking your foot up with a hiss, a piece of glass was lodged in the flesh. With a grimace and grunt you pulled it out, eyes trailing up to the broken mirror, smashed to bits. Cornflower eyes scanned the shards.

You peered over your shoulder to the sleeping Aegon, disheveled, shirt off. He almost looked innocent, spared your maidenhead after all. But the shard spilling his blood…seemed all too good. The claw marks from earlier reminded you of what he was. Take the potential usurper heir, one less dragon to deal with. You wouldn’t have his spawn. Your sister was the true queen.

Slowly grabbing a shard, maddened Targaryen bloodlust rising, you crawled atop the bed. Closer and closer you crept, straddling his hips, eyes full of fury. Aegon smiled, eyes closed, plump lips curling upward, “Ah, I told you I’d sway your blackened heart one day. You want something, wife?”

Your hand began to shake as you realized the severity of what you could do. What would happen? Aegon stirred as he didn’t hear your response, violet eyes meeting your own before noting the thick glass. You spat, “I can’t allow this.”

Aegon’s eyes flashed with something besides apathy or sick humor. He was angry. You tried to move, Aegon sending the glass flying with the spatter of blood across your pristine shift. He growled, shoving and pushing you onto your belly.

“Are you that stupid? I always thought you to be more shrewd than that display. Stabbing me in my sleep…You’d be burnt before I bled out, whore.”

You bucked against him, spitting, “You’re a future usurper, a drunk, and a whoreson, your face fills me with rage! I fucking hate this Aegon.” He laughed as he ran his bloody hand down your cheek.

He sighed, a terrifying edge to his usual easy, lackadaisical nature.

“Kind words, dear wife, you think I want to be king? Like I want to rule? Your cunt sister can have it, I have no taste for it.” Aegon readjusted himself, lips almost caressing your skin.

“You’re a bitter little bitch you know that? I didn’t choose this, be mad at our father!” He laughed again, wide grin and sharp teeth glinting in the low light. Aegon’s hand spilled blood onto your nightgown as he whispered into your ear, acrid venom dripping.

“You can be mad all you want, spurn me, I don’t care. But you’re going to learn to deal with me, take my seed, and never pull such idiocy like this ever again!” You grunted in pain as Aegon’s thick fingers curled around your throat.

His plush lips caressed your ear, “That’s reasonable isn’t it dear wife? I’m not a monster. Perhaps you should look in the mirror.” He picked up the shard again, your bloodied face and hateful eyes in the reflection, Aegon grinning. Tears welled up at your nigh unrecognizable face.

He threw it away, still holding your throat, silver hair tickling your pulsing neck. Aegon hummed, “Now promise me. You're going to be a good little wife and take my seed, then no more nonsense.”

You nodded, choking out a ‘yes’!

Aegon let go, you falling to the side to hold your neck, breathing in harsh pants. He looked over you, eyes calculating, dark. You shucked off the bloodied shift, throwing it to the side. He raised a brow. “What’s this?”

You pushed him backward, nails digging into his pale shoulders. Aegon grinned, hands coming around to rest on your hips, smearing more blood, something about it was primal and arousing— the tacky feeling, iron in the air.

Disgusting anger filled you, anger at your own body betraying you, anger at his snarky face, and anger at the whole fucking lot of dragon seed in this Keep. It made you unbearably aroused in a sick way, seeking to fuck the anger out, the anger made you want carnal pain. Aegon is a piece of shit but he could provide that.

Leaning forward, breasts pushed to him, you sneered, “Yes, lord husband, I’ll do my duty. Take your cock and seed as you see fit. No better than I, you’ve thought about it before.”

“Wringing the life out of that slim neck, watching that haughty look of yours fall off your face? Magnificent.”

You huffed a laugh at that, feeling his full prick swell against your bare cunt. Sealing your lips over his puffy ones, it was a battle of teeth and tongue. More blood spilled from your lip as he bit at it, lapping it up as you moaned, squirming atop him.

Aegon smacked your ass, sucking and nibbling your jaw as he murmured, “Gods you're an uppity bitch, yet I've wanted to fuck you for so long now.” He nipped at your neck again, moving down to pop a nipple in his mouth, moving you around.

You moaned in delight, arching and rolling your hips along his shaft, earning his noises, and stimulating your sensitive buds further. Yanking on his hair you breathed, “I didn't want to catch a disease from you, but you've grown comely, little brother.

The blonde pinched your other nipple roughly, popping off with a string of drool. Aegon grinned. “That’s the closest thing I've gotten of a compliment for you. No diseases I’m aware of, I pay fine money for my whores.” He smacked your ass again— sharp and loud as you cried out.

“You want to ride my cock dearest? Have your illusion of control?”

“Fuck you.”

He shrieked in laughter as you rose, slick cunt dripping. Your toned thighs, thick with muscle from dragon riding, lowered upon his prick. You bit back the guttural noise forced out of your throat, his prick tearing and bullying its way into your untouched cunt.

Aegon groaned, his hands digging into your hips as you panted, feeling blood join your slick. With a harsh pant, you leaned forward again, hands on his shoulders as you rode Aegon’s thick cock, the sight of blood and slick making his eyes shine.

He growled, “That’s a good princess, you’re mine now, such a little freak, getting all hot from blood and pain. A true Targaryen aren’t you, angry, vicious cunts.” He moaned when you slapped him, splitting his puffy lip. Crashing your lips against his, you lapped it up, slipping your tongue to mix with his.

He met you halfway, cock spearing you as you rolled down in quick jerks, nothing pretty. It was raw, grunts and rough slaps filling the room. Aegon’s big hand cracked down on your ass, your eyes rolling up as he dominated the kiss.

He panted against your lips.

“Gods— you’re fucking divine. Should’ve known you’d like it like this. Hard and fast, bloody, like some degenerates in those houses on the edge of the Street of Silk. I oughta take you some time. We can fuck someone together, hm?”

Your hips stuttered at the thought, mouth falling open to groan his name, gargling out a ‘fuck yes!’ Aegon grinned, groaning as you rode him harder, tits bouncing as you forced his thick length deeper. Your pussy was dragging and pulsing, wanting more and more, tightening.

The prince’s back arched as his cock pulsed, grunting your name as he shivered. He was close as you, groaning, “Good fucking wife, yes, gonna stuff you full of seed, take you out before you have to sit around and let me stuff you with more— our godsdamned babe. Want that?”

You nodded, hips moving at a breakneck pace, pleading, “Yes, yes, let’s take the town, show me, show me before I’m stuck to this wretched godsdamned keep. I’m your only cunt then, fit for you to fuck.”

He grew breathier at the idea, greedy hands massaging and plucking at your tits, lips biting and nipping your neck while groaning. You felt a jolt from him, Aegon crying out huskily as he emptied into you, forcing you onto your back as he fucked his seed into you with loud squelches.

You cried out, back arching at the sensation, the flood of hot gush drawing your climax out, milking Aegon further, begging him to fuck you more, the prince whining until a second one hit you, lurid squelching filling the room as he chanted your name, falling forward as you writhed and squeezed him, about to rip his pretty hair out.

Silence finally fell over the room save panting.

You knew there was a method of waiting, waiting until the seed could take. blood and cum were tacky on your body. He finally relented, pulling out with a sweet peck, hissing. You made a soft noise as your cunt leaked his spend, chest heaving.

Aegon laid on his back next to you. He smiled his little smile, lips puffed and lip-sided from busting the bottom. He splayed a hand over your belly, laughing, “And what a claim this will be, huh?”

Dread filled you once again. But with his babe in your belly, you could swing some leeway. With a hoarse chuckle, you replied, “Indeed a claim it is. I think it’s all over us.”

He laughed again, eyes sparkling, “Eh, I thought it would be worse.”

Could it?

#asks answered #mama Lana💜🦇#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #Aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii smut

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winter-soldier-101 · 3 months ago

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The Princess that was promised-Part 1

Summary: (Y/N) Velaryon born to Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin Strong, (Y/N) looks just like her mother and nothing like her father or brothers.

Let me know if you would like to tagged in future posts

Then-

King Aegon I Targaryen was laying in his bed as he dreamed of her she will be born of love and dragon fire she would live past her loved ones and she will stop the long night and bring the world together as one she will sit the Iron Throne and her dragon will be the largest dragon to live growing faster than any dragon Aegon sat up in bed and told his heir his son Aenys the dream.

Now-

“Princess push I see the head!” The midwife yells out to Princess Rhaenyra as she pushes.

“Oh my it’s a girl Princess she is beautiful.” A midwife tells Rhaenyra

“A girl? Let me see her!” Rhaenyra says as the midwife hands over the baby to her.

“She is perfect.” Rhaenyra says quietly.

“Princess the King and Queen are making their way to the room.” Elinda says.

“Help me dress please Elinda.” Rhaenyra says as she stands slowly and puts on her dress.

“My darling girl, I heard you have a beautiful daughter, let me see my granddaughter?” Viserys asks Rhaenyra as she gives him the baby.

“What did you name her?” Alicent asks Rhaenyra.

“This is Princess (Y/N) Velaryon my heir” Rhaenyra says looking down at (Y/N).

“You named her after Aegon’s dream?” Viserys asks Rhaenyra.

“Yes I believe she is the one who was promised” Rhaenyra says.

(Y/N) looks up at her mother and smiles (Y/N) looked just like her mother white hair and purple eyes but Rhaenyra feels sad her daughter didn’t have any of her father’s features she would be the only child not born with brown hair and eyes like her father Ser Harwin Strong.

Rhaenyra sits softly on her bed as the King and Queen leave her room and Laenor and Harwin walk in and look at the baby.

“Laenor Ser Harwin wants to see her” Rhaenyra says to Laenor.

“She is truly beautiful Princess Rhaenyra”Harwin says looking down at the tiny baby in his arms.

“Harwin thank you. I know that you can’t claim her but she is your daughter but you must promise me to protect her and any other children we have” Rhaenyra tells Harwin.

“Rhaenyra of course I will protect her” Harwin says to Rhaenyra.

“Princess you are needed at the small council meeting” Ser Harold says as he knocks on the door.

Rhaenyra walks into the small council room and sees the dragon keepers talking to the King.

“Father, what is going on?” Rhaenyra asks.

“The dragon egg that was picked for (Y/N) was Balerions last egg and it hatched and the keeps say the dragon has grown to the size of a horse in just three days and the dragon is still growing” Viserys tells Rhaenyra.

“How is that even possible?” Rhaenyra asks.

“Like you said she is the promised one my dear” Viserys says as he looks down at his granddaughter.

“She truly is the promised one” Rhaenyra says softly.

Nine years later

(Y/N) follows her mother and father as they make their way to the Queen’s chambers. (Y/N) was angry that Alicent wants her baby brother brought to her just after he was born and now her mother was walking up the stairs while blood dripped down her legs.

“Princess you should be resting!” Alicent say’s surprised as Rhaenyra walks in with Laenor by her side.

“Yes I should be” Rhaenyra says to Alicent.

“Let me see my new grandson,” Viserys says happily.

“Oh look at him, he will make a fine knight, oh look I do believe he has his father’s nose” Viserys says smiling up at Rhaenyra and Laenor.

“Ser Laenor do keep trying, maybe then one will look like you” Alicent tells Laenor.

“Maybe you should try for another one your grace and pray it looks more like you” (Y/N) says to Alicent.

“Princess I was just saying maybe the next one will have hair like you or your mother or your father” Alicent says looking at (Y/N).

“Well why just say it to my father then?” (Y/N) asks Alicent.

“She is quite fearsome” Viserys says looking at (Y/N) proudly.

“Thank you grandfather, will you be able to join me today?” (Y/N) asks Viserys.

“What would you like to do my dear?” Viserys asks (Y/N).

“I want to go flying with you grandfather, Baelor is big enough to have more than one rider” (Y/N) says.

“I don’t know if I can, my dear” Viserys tells (Y/N).

“Please grandfather I had a saddle made so you can ride with me” (Y/N) says happily.

“Okay just one ride” Viserys says to (Y/N).

“Oh grandfather thank you it will be the best ride ever” (Y/N) says happily.

(Y/N) runs to Baelor as the carriage follows behind her (Y/N) helps Viserys up and they fly over Kings Landing.

“(Y/N) my dear thank you for this” Viserys says as they land and (Y/N) helps him down.

(Y/N) stands next to her mother as they all say goodbye to Ser Harwin.

“I don’t want you to go Ser Harwin, I don’t want my dream to come true” (Y/N) says as she cries into his chest.

“What are you talking about, my dear, what dream?” Rhaenyra asks (Y/N).

“In my dreams I see Ser Harwin and his father burn alive and I hear their screams and see them die. I have to go with them, mother I need to keep him safe” (Y/N) tells Rhaenyra.

“My dear you can not go” Rhaenyra tells (Y/N).

“Mother I know you love Ser Harwin and I know he is my father so please let me go and keep him safe” (Y/N) tells Rhaenyra.

“Please be careful my dragon” Rhaenyra says as (Y/N) runs to Baelor.

(Y/N) flys to Harrenhal and lands Baelor and waits for Harwin and his father.

“Princess, what are you doing here?” Ser Harwin asks as he dismounts his horse.

“I’m here to make sure you stay alive” (Y/N) says.

“Princess please I’ve told you it’s just a bad dream” Harwin tells (Y/N).

“No it was not a bad dream!” (Y/N) says loudly.

“I’m sorry Princess, you can stay here,but does your mother know you’re here?” Harwin asks (Y/N).

“Yes I told my mother I was coming here” (Y/N) tells Harwin as they walk into Harrenhal.

(Y/N) sleeps in the room next to Harwin as smoke fills the room (Y/N) was asleep in she got up quickly and ran to Harwin’s room as they run to his fathers room trying to open the door but it will not open (Y/N) pushes Harwin outside and runs back to the door and hits it over and over till it opened Lord Lyonel lays on the floor (Y/N) calls for help and they carry him outside.

“Princess are you alright?” Harwin asks (Y/N) as he holds her tightly.

“Yes father I am alright” (Y/N) whispers to Harwin quietly, Harwin lets go of (Y/N) as they make their way over to Lyonel.

“Father…. Father!” Harwin yells out.

“I’m sorry my son…. I should have let you stay…. Keep them safe…. My grandchildren.” Lyonel whispers as he holds Harwin’s hand but soon lets it fall as he closes his eyes for the last time.

“I'm sorry…. I tried to get him out as fast as I could” (Y/N) says as tears fall down her face.

“(Y/N) it’s okay you did save him and I got to say goodbye to him so thank you” Harwin says to (Y/N).

Driftmark

(Y/N) holds Harwin’s hand as they make their way up the stairs of Driftmark.

“Ser Harwin!” Jace and Luke yell as they run over and hug (Y/N) and Harwin.

“We thought you died!” Jace says while holding Harwin close as he cries.

“No my Prince, I did not die, your sister made sure of that” Harwin tells Jace.

(Y/N) looks over and sees Alicent and Larys looking over at them.

“Ser Harwin is now Lord of Harrenhal, where is father?” (Y/N) asks her brothers, Jace turns and points to the water where Laenor is standing.

“I will be right back” (Y/N) tells them as she leaves and gets her father out of the water and to his room.

“(Y/N) take your brothers to their room and get some sleep” Rhaenyra tells (Y/N).

“Lay down and get some rest, Ser Harwin is safe” (Y/N) tells her brothers as she leaves their room.

“(Y/N)…… (Y/N) wake up!” Jace says loudly.

“Jace what is it?” (Y/N) asks Jace.

“(Y/N) someone stole Vhagar” Jace tells (Y/N).

“Let is go see what’s going on then” (Y/N) says as she gets up and puts on a robe and walks with her brothers and cousins.

(Y/N) stops as she sees Aemond walk in happily.

“Aemond what did you do?” (Y/N) asks Aemond.

“I claimed a dragon,” Aemond says proudly.

“Vhagar was my mother’s dragon!” Baela yells.

“Your mother’s dead and Vhagar has a new rider now” Aemond says.

“Vhagar was mine to claim!” Rhaena yells at Aemond.

“Then you should have claimed her, I’m sure your cousins can find a pig for you to ride” Aemond says to Rhaena.

“Stop this please!” (Y/N) yells out as she stands between Aemond and her brother’s and cousins but it was all too late as she was pushed aside as they fought each other.

#aemond x alys #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #gameofthronesimagine #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #got imagine #hotd season 2 #house of the dragon season 2 #the princess that was promised series

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ride-thedragon · 5 months ago

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A critical analysis of Rhaenyra's motherhood.

Now I'm really happy that the show gave a critical lens to this with episode 7, but it's been established since S1. It was just that her fans and people who don't like Alicent made it extremely hard to give this criticism other and compared her to Alicent even though they aren't in the same circumstances. This is going to be a critical look at Rhaenyra’s motherhood, so if that will make you upset, move on.

Her relationship to mothers.

Rhaenyra doesn't have a real mother figure throughout her life. We see that she feels the need to take care of her mother at 14, probably because she saw Aemma go through it before. When her father kills her she's scared by it and it changes her.

We then see her lean into Alicent, but by the time she's trying to gain a sense of normalcy, her friend is going to marry her father. I know a lot of people hold out hope for that deleted scene, but I like the way they keep it in the show. Rhaenyra doesn't empathise with Alicent because of what happened with Aemma. She becomes a mother, and without much thought, Rhaenyra sees her as the king's wife and baby maker.

With Rhaenys (we will return to it) she doesn't seem to see her in that light. Rhaenys is a caution for who she isn't and wouldn't be. She's too young to realise the freedom Rhaenys has from her position.

There are no other prominent mother figures around her either, and Rhaenyra continues to see motherhood as a trap or slow death in a sense, a way to lock a woman up and bring her down.

How she becomes a mother

Rhaenyra does like sex. She's grown, and even though Daemon will burn in hell for risking her life like that for his own gain with her first sexual experience, Rhaenyra clearly likes sex, she likes the enjoyment and connection, the desire and want.

But she is a woman in feudalism, so she is looked down on because of it. When she has to get married after not finding that in any partner she was presented with, she specifically made the arrangement with Laenor that their sex was out of duty and obligations to make heirs while they could both seek out pleasure.

Rhaenyra and Laenor do not have a healthy or good relationship. Joffrey is murdered by Criston without punishment, and Laenor does his duty, but Rhaenyra finds no joy in it. People like to act as though Rhaenyra would've had to sa Laenor to have his kids but that's not what she says.

Rhaenyra is young and likes sex. She wants to have sex and feel desired. Laenor is gay and traumatised but still doing his duty like they discussed. Rhaenyra seeks out Harwin because she wants to enjoy sex and because sex with him is more enjoyable and what she wanted she gets pregnant.

By this point, she has the risk of the child being Harwin's, but why would she care? The child could be Laenor’s, and if not, he should provenly still look Valyrian.

The child does not look Valyrian, but she is now the mother of that child. She can't say he's a bastard because that's treason, so she passes it off as Laenor’s. This trend will continue and worsen with time.

All of her kids.

Jace.

This ine shocked people recently but I wasn't shocked. Rhaenyra has harmed Jace arguably the moat in all of this. He's her heir while she's fighting this war. Anything they do and any harm she puts herself in that could cost her her life, the Lord of the Realm will be asked to bow to a bastard. He's fully aware of this.

Jace is in constant question of himself, and Rhaenyra can never answer him. The first time he asks if he's a bastard she kisses him and doesn't answer, when he says he should be grieving Ser Harwin, she tells him it wouldn't be appropriate after her non answer and sends him to comfort Baela. She marries Daemon and has true boen Valyrian children by him, risking his life because his biggest protection outside of Rhaenyra was 'kilked' in a way that facilitated that union.

She tries and fails to betrothe him to Helaena, and after she engages him to Baela when she should be looking to allies to support her claim because she can't risk him marrying a non Valyrian.

Now, she keeps putting herself at risk in order to satiate her desires for peace and reunion while he is terrified not just to lose his power but to lose his position. Then she coddles him so he can't prove himself because Luke died. She dismisses and avoids his concerns six years later, just as she did when he was 10, something we see him do to Luke.

Now she again chooses herself before him when it comes to the Dragonseeds, calling into question his biggest legitimacy outside of her. Her right is her priority, and she chooses it over the potential harm it will cause to him. I also don't think she would've done it without that scene with Viserys in episode 8.

Luke.

Rhaenyra is really reckless with this one. She doesn't stop with Harwin. She doubles down because she believes it grants Jace viability if he and all his brothers look alike.

So when the heir to house Velayron doesn't look Velayron, people are rightfully upset. But again, thanks to Rhaenyra and Laenor protecting them, Luke doesn't realise he is a bastard until he's fully confronted with it. Then Rhaneyra, on two separate occasions, chooses to add fuel to the fire. With the boys and Aemond, Luke goes unpunished and protected because of Rhaenyra and her appeal to Viserys. This is something that festers in Aemond.

With the Velayrons who all suspect foul play with Rhaenyra and Laenor, when she kills Vaemond without answering him, she gives room for Luke to question why she didn't have an answer and in his mind, he should've just given the seat up. But he is Rhaenyra's son and she has fixed the situation by wedding him to Rhaena so he doesn't have to worry. She will always be there.

She isn't, though. He's sent away on a mission where he confronts the two things she willingly chose to ignore, Aemond and his bastardy. This leads to Luke's death.

Joffrey.

My baby boy hasn't done anything wrong and is fine, but the show willingly chooses to ignore any mention of his engagement to the Manderlys isn't a great sign that she won't choose to simply marry him off as well to fix the bastard problem.

Aegon and Viserys (and legally Visenya)

These kids genuinely harm Jace specifically. If they decide to be the heirs, more men would stand behind them because they are true born. That's a decision Rhaenyra made because, again, she thinks these boys will be raised outside of that conflict because of her. She is at the center of it.

Again, it's the question of sex and how much she truly thinks she can protect her kids from each other. Especially since Jace treats them like a segregated line, he won't cross.

Baela and Rhaena.

Show Rhaenyra isn't a mother to these girls. She's adultified one while parentifying the other and never offers comfort outside of her own gain. She is not a mother. She hasn't put herself in that position. You can argue she doesn't have too but she should have. Now, she is using them to her benefit in place of herself and what she can't do. Baela is the dragonrider, and Rhaena is the mother despite her protest. These girls aren't daughters to her. She doesn't give them the benefit of loving them enough to hear them.

It's not her responsibility, but she dies understand the position she is in and uses it when it benefits her.

With a focus on Rhaena for a moment as well, they let her claim seasmoke when they thought Laenor was alive in Essos. She risked her life trying to claim a dragon they understood would kill her. I really do hope that they didn't know, but I wouldn't be surprised if they did.

Is she a good mother?

No. She isn't a good mom. It's not a bad thing. She loves her kids because they are hers. She protects them because they are hers. We see a clear contrast with Laena's girls and how she sympathises with them. She, however, doesn't offer them comfort. She sends Jace to do it. Rhaenyra’s kids are an extension of her. She loves them dearly and will not see them questioning who they are. Because she did and hated it. Her kids are legitimate through her. They hatched her dragons egg, and she loves them. It is enough for her, but she has doomed them from the start. They will never be safe, and they are sure to have a sucession crisis amongst themselves. Being loving is important, but she doesn't recognise the responsibility she has to them. Even in episode 7 of seaon 2, we see the same pattern. Ultimately, she comes first. To their detriment, but she loves them. Welcome back, Viserys Targaryen.

Conclusion

I don't think there is a good mom I house of the dragon. And Rhaenyra isn't the place to start to disprove that. Alicent isn't a good mom, Rhaenys isn't a good mom and Laena, even though she is the closest we come to it, isn't a good mom, I'd say she's the best out of the bunch though. Laena is certainly the most normal mom, though. Laena is the best mom. Thank you for coming.

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huramuna · 11 months ago

Text

downpour - oneshot.

modern aegon ii targaryen x nanny reader minors dni, you will be smited.

this is for @targaryen-dynasty sleepover challenge 🤭 i got the babysitter au + the prompt 'why so shy?' i had so much fun with this, modern aegon is a menace and also a sopping wet cat.

word count: 4.5k

content: smutty smut smut (specifics under cut), aegon being a little shit (we love it), saltburn spoilers (lol), allusions to drug / alcohol abuse and rehabilitation, mullet aegon, jaehaera and jaehaerys are hel's kids but they have an unnamed / unrelated father, gratuitous use of song lyrics, probably a touch of power imbalance because of her job

murder on the dance floor - sophie ellis-bexter

warnings: oral (m receiving), face slapping w/ cock, degradation, dirty talk (this man never shuts up), face fucking / deepthroat, cum on face

“Jaehaerys! Jaehaera! Please don’t run in the house with muddy boots!” you called fervently, trying to collapse the umbrella with one hand, two teddy bears slung in the other.

“We won’t!” they both called in unison, followed by the unmistakable sound of muddy galoshes squeaking over the marble floor. You suppressed the urge to groan as you entered the exquisite home through the french doors that led to the backyard.

“Boots off, little ones!” you called again, kicking off your own shoes in a haste to catch the gremlins before they tracked grime all over madam Alicent’s home. You had been working at the Targaryen estate for the better part of a year as a live-in nanny for Lady Alicent’s two grandchildren– twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. It was a wonderful job for the most part, as the twins were a delight and you had grown to have a strong friendship with their mother, Helaena. She was a bit dreamy-eyed and wistful, but was a wonderful mother nonetheless, even if she did have her melancholic days.

The estate was huge and ancient, passed down from generations through Helaena’s father’s side, which was apparently a near royal bloodline from days long foregone. Viserys Targaryen, the father in question, was hardly ever home. He managed the family business (whatever it may be, you didn’t find it in you to ask– all you knew is that they were dirty rich) with his other daughter, Rhaenyra, from his first marriage. He had four children with Alicent, Helaena being the only one of the brood to still live at home.

You’d met two of the others as well; Aemond, a lawyer in the family business who was, in short, all business and no play. He never regarded you, really, besides a quick glance or stiff nod. He had, however, slipped you a eight-thousand dollar bonus at Christmas time with a simple card that read;

Thank you for taking care of the twins and my sister. And keeping my mother sane.

- A.T

The other sibling, Daeron, was the youngest of the bunch, visited usually during holidays, as he constantly was studying abroad. ‘Sowing his wild oats’, as Helaena had put it. He was cordial to you and very much had a boyish charm, and Helaena loved to joke that he had a crush on you. When he had come home for New Year’s, he brought you a souvenir from Iceland, an authentic lopapeysa sweater, made from wool and sewn with a beautiful geometric design.

“Awh, Daeron wants you to stay warm, lovey,” Helaena teased.

“I-It’s just– her hands are always so cold, a-and the wool is supposed to help keep warm! The inner layer is insulating.” Daeron had stammered, the tips of his ears growing red.

“Uncle Daeron has a brush!” Jaehaera squeaked, her words whistling through her tooth gap, she’d lost her first baby tooth just the week before.

“A crush, he’s got a crush!” Jaehaerys corrected softly.

Alicent thought the whole thing very amusing.

That left one child you hadn’t met. You didn’t know much about him aside from small bits of conversation you’d picked up on between the rest of the family. Aegon. The eldest of all of them, and apparently the troublemaker of the bunch. You knew what he looked like from the portraits– blonde hair like the rest but with severely more bags under his eyes. Upon entering the home, one would see the chronological order of family portraits.

It starts with Viserys, Alicent, and baby Aegon; the latter of whom is happy and chubby and bubbly.

Then, it moves to the three of them, plus baby Helaena, with her wide blue-eyed stare at the camera. Aegon is still happy.

The next one adds the addition of baby Aemond– there is a glint of sentience in Aegon’s eyes, but he hasn’t experienced the crushing blows of reality yet.

You weren’t exactly sure, but as he got older, he became more morose– more bags, less light in his eyes. Then came the ear piercings, the tattoos, the head shaving, the bloodshot in the whites of his eyes. The portraits ended with this past year’s Christmas photo. Aegon was noticeably missing from it. You’d heard during one of Alicent’s phone conversations with her father that Aegon was in rehabilitation for a myriad of issues, and looking at his photos, you could only guess which one was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

A particularly harsh clap of thunder broke you from your thoughts, coming back to yourself. You scooped up Jaehaera before she stepped on the carpet with the muddy shoes. “C’mon, let's get cleaned up for lunch, yeah? What do we want for lunch today, lovies?”

“Grilled cheese n’ tomato soup.”

“No! I want mac n’ cheese.”

The squabbling ensued, the twins arguing back and forth for a few moments before you butt in. “Alright, how about– whoever gets the floor the cleanest and puts their galoshes by the washroom the fastest gets to pick?”

The twins squealed in delight as they absconded from your sight, effectively going to do your bidding for you. You would, however, just end up making both meals anyway. As you moved to the kitchen, the sound of the doorbell rang. You bustled to the door, not sure who to expect– there weren’t many roving visitors in and out of the estate unless Alicent was explicitly expecting company– which you had triple checked the calendar when you woke up that morning.

You opened the door, expecting to see a debutante or someone of Alicent’s social circle– ‘twas not the case. You recognized him immediately, seeing his mother’s face in his own. Aegon. He was muddy, dirt flecks splashed on his face as he stood under the stoop trying to get away from the pouring rain. His face was a bit healthier than you’d seen it, the dark circles were still there, but not as prominent. It was like a gloomy day, rather than a full blown storm under his eyes. He had the wisps of a beard starting on his jawline, and his hair was cut into a makeshift mullet, longer in the back.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, hands in his pockets.

“Erm– the… the nanny. For the children.” you stammered, his tone catching you off guard. You glanced behind him, seeing a beat up dirt bike caked in mud– that was probably how he got here.

“A nanny? You’re a bit young for that, yeah? My nanny’s were all wrinkly old prunes.”

“Oh– uhm, come in, Mr. Targaryen.”

He perked a brow at the name, but didn’t say anything. He beat the bottom of his boots on the doormat, which didn’t accomplish much. He immediately began to track mud on the floor. “Mum home? Hel?”

“Lady Alicent is… upstairs,” you offered, following behind him at a quick pace. “Helaena is taking a nap– the storm–”

“Yeah, I know ‘bout Hel’s issues with storms. Don’t need to tell me twice. So, you got a name, or are you just the nanny?”

You gave him your name as you glanced at the clock– it was almost time for the children’s lunch and you hadn’t even put it on the stove yet!

“Got any food around here? Fuckin’ famished.” he added then as he nosed around the kitchen, hands still in his pockets.

“I’m just about to make lunch for the twins– uhm, I can make you something too if you’d like.” you walked past him, quickly putting some pots on the stove and starting the gas. You and the twins were on a strict schedule, and if they didn’t get their lunch on time, they would turn into hellions.

“Sure. Whatever the kids are having. I’m not picky.” Aegon waved his hand behind his head as he disappeared from the kitchen and clomped up the stairs, likely to speak with his mother. You fretted for Alicent’s mental state once that was done, and you felt even guiltier for not giving her a heads up.

As the tomato soup heated on the stove and the water began to boil for the macaroni, you unlocked your phone– you were curious about Aegon and why he’d come back, exactly. Well, of course, besides the fact that he lived here (or did, at some point) he was still supposed to be in rehab for another three months. You went to instagram, rolling your eyes as you saw that his profile was on ‘suggested for you to follow!’

You clicked to his most recent photo, the first that he’d posted in over a year.

“Jesus christ,” you muttered under your breath as you put down your phone on the counter to stir the soup.

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Aegon teased behind you. When the fuck had he gotten there? “Soup n’ mac and cheese?”

“Tomato soup and grilled cheese for Jaehaera, mac and cheese for Jaehaerys.” you responded plainly, trying not to notice that he was practically breathing down your neck. You glanced over as he leaned on the counter, where you had left your phone. Unlocked. Like an idiot. On his instagram page.

“Curious about me, are you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard enough about me from my mum.”

“I don’t like to pry into Lady Alicent’s affairs–”

“I wouldn’t consider myself an affair, more like a one time fling, eh?” Aegon snorted, grabbing your phone. It took every fiber of your being to not break all sense of decorum you held to snatch it back from him. “You’re not following me– let’s change that,” he mused, beginning to scroll through your page now. “Lots of pictures of the kids here– ooh, a trip to the seaside. There’s no pictures of you on here, eh? Only of… my family n’ other stupid shit, like the ocean.”

“I’m a live-in nanny, sir,” you grit out, stirring the soup with more force than necessary. You consider yourself a patient person, and have become accustomed to how people in the Targaryen’s circle made their jabs. High society and filthy rich people had their own language of insults– ones that you wouldn’t realize they were insulting you until much, much later. It was like a game with a slow burning poison. But Aegon, apparently, was different. There was nothing meticulous about his jabs, no filter, no slow burning poison. It was all punch and sting, like a bite from a rabid dog rather than a viper. “I usually attend family trips.”

“Live-in, huh?” he drawled, his arm leaning over the counter in such a laissez-faire manner that you could feel yourself scowling. “Don’t get much action then, I take it? Let’s see if there’s any nudie judies on here, then…”

“N-no!” you broke then, all sense of manners flying out of your body as you struggled to take back your phone.

“Why so shy? Got something on here you don’t want me to see?” he staved you off, a hand planted firmly on your shoulder as he scrolled through your photos, making all sorts of gaudy faces. You didn’t really have anything overtly scandalous, maybe a few lingerie shots for an old boyfriend.

“Aegon, leave her alone. Give her back her phone.” Alicent’s voice cut through the room like a knife, stunning both of you.

He sheepishly gave you back your phone as she crooked a finger to her son, ushering him to a room on the farther side of the house.

As you fed the twins their lunch, you overheard some yelling, arguing and heated voices. You only saw Aegon later when going to your room to get ready for bed. His eyes were teary and red.

—

The next few weeks went by with some normalcy— everything was as usual, except it was like you had a third child to care for; Aegon. Except this child didn’t listen at all and had terrible habits. He was constantly flirting with you, but also would weave in jabs at the same time— you couldn’t quite tell if he even liked you or not. Not that it mattered, anyway.

You were sneaking in your own lunch one afternoon, eating scraps from the twin’s lunch while they napped— basically just the crust you cut off of the grilled cheese and the small bit of soup left in the pot.

“You eat like a mouse.” Aegon said, always managing to be there to annoy you.

“Too much food makes me tired— I won’t be able to keep up with them if I’m sluggish.”

“Could always drink a red bull or a monster, instead.” he offered, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it in the kitchen.

“You shouldn’t do that inside. It’s bad for the children’s lungs. Lady Alicent says—,”

“Well, it’s my fuckin’ house too, innit? I can smoke in here if I well and bloody like,” he growled, exhaling a puff of smoke into your face. “My mum must be paying you extra to be my nanny too, then? The way you’re up my ass all the time.” he flicked ash in your direction.

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest. He was goading you, baiting you into a reaction. He was being insufferable on purpose. You could tell by his pearly white smile he currently had plastered to his face, like a smug little—

“Never had a nanny so pretty, though,” he continued. “If I asked real nice, would you feed me soup? Dress me up? Give me a bath if I’m real dirty?” he got closer and you could smell him— the smell of marlboro reds and cheap aftershave that had become synonymous with Aegon blew out your senses until it was all consuming.

Your mouth parted as you tried to think of some witty response, some barb, some jab— but nothing came out. You just huffed and turned away from him in an attempt to hide your red cheeks. Why were you blushing?

You could practically hear the cockiness ooze from him, his mouth perked into a cheeky smile as he stole one of the crusts. He knew he’d gotten to you.

—

It’d now been over a month since Aegon moved back home and the building tension between you two hadn’t let up a bit— you constantly felt trapped and elated all at once. When you saw him, your chest fluttered slightly in anxiety and anticipation. What was wrong with you?

It was a dark, gloomy day. The seasonal storms were in full swing, pelting the estate in rain and hail. Alicent, Helaena, and the twins were out on an escapade to Alicent’s father’s house— you guessed Aegon hadn’t gone. But, it was a huge house, so surely you could enjoy some of your time off without seeing him?

A rumble of thunder shook the house, rattling its constitution— and then the lights flickered. Flickered… flickered… then… out. It was dark, then, even with your window shades open. You turned on your phone flashlight and tiptoed out of your room, going to see if perhaps you could smack the backup generator into working.

You hadn’t expected to work today, nor see anyone, as Alicent had given you the day off. So, you were subsequently dressed in your pajamas— a hilariously oversized Bass Pro Shop shirt (a gift from your dad in America) and cat-patterned sleeping shorts. Your toes cracked and creeped on the floorboards with each movement, and to your chagrin, as you passed Aegon’s door, it opened. He was wearing a shirt that said “MILF: Man I love Fishing”, with just his boxer briefs on, which didn’t seem to bother him at all.

“Oh. You’re still here.”

“Yes?”

“Sorry, thought you were gone with the rest. Sad, I can’t do the Saltburn thing now.”

“The… what?”

“The Saltburn thing? Dance around the empty mansion to myself with my cock out.”

“What.” you responded with the most deadpan tone.

“Dance… with my cock out?” he repeated.

“No– I know what you said– but why?”

“Why not?”

You rolled your eyes, shifting the conversation. “So, the power is out– uhm, do you know where the backup generator is?”

“In the wine cellar. Nifty, huh?”

“... the… wine cellar. I can’t say I’ve been down there yet.”

“I know it like the back of my hand, c’mon then. I’m sure I can kick the old gen in the nads and get it to work.” Aegon said with surprising confidence, turning on his phone’s flashlight and half blinding you.

You followed behind him, to which he hummed ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ while doing a half-assed dance, apparently from some movie that was definitely something you hadn’t watched– you don’t remember the last time you watched a movie that wasn’t geared towards the twins.

“So basically… he had the whole mansion to himself, and then he dances through it with his cock out, hanging massive brain, y’know? It's murder on the dance floor, you better not kill the groove,” he imitates the dance, sprawling his arms out in the doorway to the wine cellar and shaking his bottom a bit, which was, admittedly, nicely fit in his snug boxer briefs. You felt a strange heat flush to your cheeks.

“And this… is a… what? Comedy?”

“Well, categorically no– I’m not a film aficionado. I guess it could be considered a psychological thriller, but I thought it was pretty funny,” he stopped before continuing into the cellar. “It gets pretty hairy in here, so stick close, okay? Ever seen The Conjuring?”

“... yes, actually. Horror movies are kind of my favorite.”

“Ah, a girl after my own heart,” he mused. “Well, think of the basement in that movie, but instead of a bunch of old useless shit, it’s a bunch of old wine.”

“And… instead of ghosts?”

“Oh, there’s definitely ghosts.”

“... what.”

“Yeah, estate is haunted. You haven’t noticed?”

“Shut up.” you murmured. You were a huge fan of horror movies while simultaneously being a huge chicken shit when it came to scary things– you were prone to hiding your face before the big jumpscare or running up the stairs from the kitchen when it was dark, just in case something was chasing you– and your feet had to be covered by the blanket at all times when sleeping.

“Aww, you scared?” Aegon teased, turning to you.

“I mean– ghosts are scary. Of course!” you offered sheepishly, pulling up the collar of your oversized shirt to cover your nose and mouth in an almost hiding manner– a nervous habit of yours.

“I’ll keep you safe, love, no worries about that.”

“... that’s what they always say, right? Then they totally leave behind their girlfriends to get stabbed by the killer or… eaten by the monster.”

“You my girlfriend now?” he asked, that stupidly annoying and somehow charming smug energy exuding off of him in waves.

“Shut up.” you grumbled as you both approached the generator. It was covered in dust and hadn’t been touched or tended to in a long time, it looked like. “Do… you know what you’re doing?” you asked Aegon tentatively, watching as he inspected it.

“Me? Oh, fuck no. I never know what I’m doing, honestly,” he shrugged, giving the metal box a kick and haphazardly pressing some buttons. “No dice, sweetheart. ‘Spose you’ll have to dance in the dark with me for a bit longer, huh? But, if there's a ghost, you'll be... ghost food, or whatever.”

You pinched your brow in annoyance. “I don’t understand you.”

“What’s there to understand? I’m a pretty open book, you know.”

“No– you aren’t. You flirt with me but also… insult me? I don’t get it.”

“It’s called teasing– picking? Picking on? Getting the goat?”

“What? So, like a little boy pulling a girl’s pigtails on the playground because he likes her? That makes absolutely no sense, Aegon.”

“If you spend your time trying to find a reason for it, you’ll go insane. Why not just enjoy the point of it? I like you.” he breathed, suddenly very close to you. He set his phone aside on top of the generator, flashlight up. It illuminated the walls of wine and cast shadows of cobwebs and dust all around the both of you.

“What?”

“Are you deaf– I. Like. You.” he repeated, his knees bumping yours as you were practically glued together, your back now against the ancient stone wall.

Your lips parted as you inhaled a breath– okay, you weren’t exactly expecting him to say that, or even like you at all– you figured the flirting was all hot air, a defense mechanism, something for fun, not… real. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you became all too aware of the fact that you hadn’t been touched since you got this job, maybe even before that– and your previous boyfriends never made you feel… flustered like this. You couldn’t form words as he, uncharacteristically cautiously, put his hand on your cheek. He was so close, so close– his body heat mingled with your inherent coldness and warmed you instantly. You weren’t sure what came over you, but you leaned forward, slotting your lips against his. What the actual fuck were you doing– you were kissing your boss’ son, her notoriously bad mannered, foul mouthed, sloven slob of a son, and you liked it. Your hand instantly went to the back of his head, fingers grazing through his choppy curls– even giving them an experimental tug, which he seemed to enjoy, by the indication of something poking you in your thigh.

His lips moved against yours like a dance, and you couldn’t get the fucking song he was singing earlier out of your head– It’s murder on the dancefloor– you grasped at his hip, it was fleshy and pleasant, the tips of your finger slipping under the elastic of his briefs– But you better not kill the groove– his hands were exploring, too, under your stupid Bass Pro shop shirt, groping at your breasts with reckless abandon – If you think you're getting away, I will prove you wrong – the heat rose in your body until you couldn’t take it any longer, the two of you were practically eating each other alive in this dank, dusty cellar and it was undoubtedly the hottest experience of your life – I'll take you all the way, boy, just come along – your lips parted for a moment, still connected by a string of saliva, bridging the gap between the two of you – Hear me when I say, hey –

“On your knees for me, love?” he asked, his voice suddenly so deep and husky, his thumb skimming over your collarbone.

You fell to your knees for him so quickly– how pathetic. He wriggled down his briefs, already leaking at the fat tip of his cock. He wasn’t overly long, but he was girthy, like a beer can. Your eyes widened, which he must’ve noticed, as his face was plastered with a shit-eating grin. Your mind immediately went to an image of a so-called ‘American delicacy’ (your father’s words, not yours) called Beer can chicken, in which a can of beer is shoved in the ass end of a chicken and grilled. It is apparently as delicious as it is horrifying. Your throat bobbed as you surveyed it, a tentative hand around the base. He shook his head, prying your hand from him.

“Nope, mouth only. Open up, be a good girl.” Aegon muttered, looking down at you, the light of his phone flashlight illuminating him from below– he looked like a God. Or maybe a devil.

Your mouth parted as his hand guided you forward. You wholly expected him to nestle in your mouth, but he surprised you with a slap to your face with his cock. It didn’t hurt, just caused you to yelp in surprise. He smeared some of the pre-come across your cheek, then slapped the head of his length on your waiting tongue. It was somewhat degrading, what he was doing– but it lit a goddamn fire under your ass, the neurons of depravity in your body, wherever they may lie, were alight with each nasty little gesture Aegon gave you, before he finally slid home. It stretched out your mouth, prodding at the back of your throat.

“What would everyone else think, hm? If they knew you were such a fuckin’ slut.” he growled, gathering your hair in his fist like it owed him money, beginning to fuck himself into your mouth, careful to pay attention to your body language to make sure he wasn’t working you over too much. He made sure to be extra careful with his toys, rather than break them.

Tears welled, spilling down your face as you let him use you, degrade you– and yet, he also praised you.

“–such a good girl for me–”

“–you can take a little more, there you go–”

“–prettiest throat I’ve ever fucked–”

You felt like you were on fire, set ablaze by arousal you’d never experienced before– was this what they sang songs about? Dirty, borderline pornographic songs but the point still stood.

You had to chalk it up to the barometric pressure of the storm, right? Aegon wasn’t your type— your type was… well-adjusted, non-addicts, non-bad boy, non-troublemakers. Aegon was the antithesis of what you were into.

And yet— you were into him. You were into him in a pathetic, pitiful way. It made you cringe to think about but you couldn’t resist his puppy dog eyes, nor could you forget the way he was whimpering— fucking whimpering! You squeezed your thighs together slightly at the sound of it, at the blurry-eyed, teary sight of him looking down at you on your knees, eyes half lidded.

He pulled out with a particularly throaty grunt, painting your face in his unnaturally warm seed, somehow careful enough not to get it in your eyes– small mercies. Your lungs inflated with oxygen once more as you caught your breath, trying to gather yourself. You felt the swathe of cloth over your face as Aegon cleaned you up with his ‘MILF: Man I Love Fishing’ shirt, which he had apparently taken off.

“You good?”

You nodded slowly as he helped you to your feet, brushing off your knees with the clean part of his shirt.

“Um– so,” he still held onto you, as if he was afraid you’d run away. “Do you want to watch a movie with me later, when the power is back on? Like, actually watch it– I won’t fuck your face, I promise.”

“... are you asking me on a date?”

“Umm… yeah. I think.”

“Maybe we could watch Saltburn?” you offered with a shrug.

–

“Your mum texted me,” you whispered. “The bridge is temporarily washed out from the storm, they won’t be back ‘til tomorrow.”

“Do you know what that means?” Aegon said, suddenly giddy. You both had just finished watching Saltburn, and you finally understood what the ‘Saltburn thing’ was.

“You know your mum has like ten security cameras set up around the house, right?”

“Okay… and?”

“I’m not dancing naked in the hallway, Aegon.”

“How about just in my room? Please?”

You gave a sigh, beginning to take your clothes off.

“Siri, play ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor.”

‘Okay. Now playing ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor, as featured in Saltburn.’

It's murder on the dancefloor!

But you better not kill the groove, hey-hey, hey-hey!

It's murder on the dancefloor.

But you better not steal the moves.

DJ, gonna burn this goddamn house right down.

#aemondtarqaryenssleepover #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii #hotd #house of the dragon #my writing #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x you #aegon ii fic #downpour #modern aegon ii #modern aegon ii x reader

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novaursa · 17 days ago

Text

Between Pride and Fire (west)

- Summary: It was a challenge of the hunt that drew the lion to you, but it was your fire that made him yours.

- Paring: targ!reader/Jason Lannister

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: aftermath

- Next part: the tour

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @punk-in-docs @barnes70stark

Guards shouted orders, horses pawed at the stone ground, and servants bustled about loading the last of the carriages. The morning sun bathed the Rock in amber, its warmth softening the sting of farewells.

You stood near the edge of the courtyard, your arm loosely hooked with Jason’s as you watched your father, Viserys, and your family say their final words to the gathered Lannisters. Jason’s hand rested lightly against yours, his presence steady but quiet, sensing the importance of this moment.

Your father, King Viserys, beamed as he approached, his expression one of contentment despite the faint weariness that always seemed to linger in his steps these days. “My daughter,” he said warmly as he took your hand in his own, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “You look well. Casterly Rock seems to agree with you.”

“Perhaps,” you replied softly, though there was a glint of humor in your eye as you glanced toward Jason. “Lord Jason ensures I’m never idle, at least.”

Viserys laughed, a deep, jovial sound. “Good, good! A spirited union is a strong one. I’ve no doubt you’ll flourish here. Still,” his voice lowered slightly, filled with fatherly affection, “know that the Red Keep will always be your home.”

“And you’ll visit, I’m sure,” you replied with a small smile, though the lump in your throat tightened slightly.

Jason inclined his head, speaking with polite ease. “Your Grace, Casterly Rock will always be open to you and the royal family.”

Viserys clapped Jason’s shoulder in approval. “Spoken like a true son of the Rock.”

A soft cooing noise pulled your attention, and you turned to see Alicent, standing just behind Viserys with baby Helaena nestled in her arms. Little Aegon stood beside her, his small hand clutching the edge of his mother’s cloak. Alicent smiled faintly as you approached, though there was a tiredness to her gaze that hadn’t been there before.

“You’re leaving so soon?” you asked, looking between Alicent and the baby in her arms.

“The king has his duties,” Alicent replied softly. “Though I think we’ve all grown fond of the comforts of Casterly Rock. Haven’t we, sweetling?” She glanced down at Helaena, who blinked up at you with wide, curious eyes.

You reached out and brushed a finger lightly against Helaena’s tiny hand, watching as her little fingers curled around it. “She’s grown so much already,” you murmured. “It seems only a moment ago she was born.”

Alicent’s expression softened. “Time moves far too quickly. You’ll see for yourself one day.”

You glanced briefly at Jason, who smirked as though he could read your thoughts, but you quickly turned back to Alicent. Kneeling slightly, you ruffled Aegon’s pale hair, earning a scowl from the toddler, who clung tighter to his mother’s skirts. “You’ll look after your mother, won’t you?” you teased gently.

Aegon said nothing, though his glare was impressive for a boy of his age. Jason chuckled under his breath behind you. “The boy already has an attitude,” he remarked.

“He gets that from his grandsire,” Alicent replied smoothly, though her smile wavered slightly as she looked between the two of you. “Be well, princess. And may the Seven bless your marriage.”

Rhaenyra, standing just behind, waited with her arms crossed, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she approached. “Well, sister,” she said with feigned nonchalance, “it seems you are settling into your new life rather nicely.”

You gave her a look, though it lacked sharpness. “Jealous, are you?”

“Hardly,” Rhaenyra retorted, though there was warmth in her teasing tone. “But I will admit, the Westerlands have their charm.”

“I’ll remind you of that when you’re planning your wedding,” you replied with a sly grin. “Whenever you do decide to choose a husband.”

Rhaenyra’s smile faltered slightly, though her eyes gleamed with humor. “Perhaps I enjoy keeping them guessing.”

Jason snorted faintly, unable to resist. “A dangerous game to play, Princess. You may find yourself trapped before you realize it.”

Rhaenyra shot him a look, though her amusement didn’t fade. “And yet here you are, my sister’s husband. Tell me, was it worth it, Lord Jason?”

Jason placed a hand over his heart in mock solemnity. “Every moment of it, Princess. I assure you.”

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, though her smile remained as she turned back to you. “Take care of yourself, sister. And don’t let this lion get the better of you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, your voice light despite the tightening in your chest.

The sound of boots echoed across the courtyard, signaling it was time. Viserys called for the carriages, and servants began gathering the last of the royal family’s belongings. Alicent climbed into the first carriage with her children, while Viserys lingered for one final look at you.

“Be good to each other,” he said firmly, though his gaze softened as it lingered on you. “And remember, you are still my daughter, no matter where you go.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as you whispered, “Goodbye, Father.”

Viserys smiled warmly before turning and allowing the guards to usher him toward his carriage. Rhaenyra lingered a moment longer, her expression unreadable as she met your gaze. Finally, she smiled softly and turned to follow the others.

As the procession began to move, the banners swaying and horses trotting out of the courtyard, Jason stepped closer to you. His hand found yours, squeezing it gently.

“Not too late to chase them down and fly back to the Red Keep,” he teased softly.

You glanced at him, arching a brow. “And leave you here to sulk? I think not.”

Jason smirked, his green eyes alight with amusement. “Good. I’d hate to think I scared you off already.”

You shook your head, letting out a faint laugh as you turned back to watch the royal carriages disappear into the distance. Casterly Rock now felt larger, quieter—and for better or worse, it was your home.

The soft light of late afternoon filled the chamber as Jason sprawled lazily on one of the cushioned settees, maps and scrolls unfurled on the table before him. You sat nearby, curled in a chair with a book open in your lap, though your attention had long drifted from the pages. The past days had brought a quiet lull, but Jason’s restless energy made it clear he was already planning something.

“I promised you a tour of the Westerlands,” Jason said suddenly, his voice brimming with satisfaction as he ran a finger along one of the maps. “It’s time I made good on that.”

You glanced up from your book, frowning slightly. “You’re planning for us to leave the Rock?”

Jason looked at you, grinning like a boy with a new toy. “What better way to introduce my lady wife to her new realm? You’ll see the finest lands in Westeros—Lannisport again, Faircastle, the Golden Tooth—and all the other holdings sworn to House Lannister.” He sat back, clearly pleased with himself. “A chance to remind them all what a fine match I’ve made.”

You arched an eyebrow, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Is this a tour for me or a parade for your own ego?”

Jason smirked, unrepentant. “Can it not be both? I do love an audience.”

You rolled your eyes, though there was no heat behind it. Shifting in your seat, you tried to suppress the discomfort that had been gnawing at you lately—the faint nausea, the way your head felt heavier than it should. The effects of the pregnancy were becoming harder to ignore, though you’d stubbornly tried to pretend otherwise.

“And do you plan to take Morrath with us as well?” you asked, forcing lightness into your tone.

Jason paused, surprised by the question. “Your dragon?”

“Yes,” you said, setting your book aside and leaning back against the chair. “You did promise a spectacle, and Morrath loves to be the center of attention. Much like you.”

Jason chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “I think one treasure is enough for the road. I doubt the lords of Faircastle would be pleased to have their towers scorched because Morrath decided she didn’t like their welcome.”

You smirked faintly, though the movement made your stomach churn. “You’re avoiding the real issue—she’d steal your spotlight entirely.”

Jason grinned, rising from the settee and making his way over to you with an exaggerated sigh. “As if such a thing were possible.” He crouched beside your chair, resting an elbow on the armrest as he looked up at you with a playful gleam in his green eyes. “Are you trying to wound me, wife?”

“Only pointing out the truth,” you replied, though your lips curved into a small smile. “You’ve never been one to share the stage, Jason.”

“Perhaps not,” he admitted, leaning closer. “But with you, I’ll make an exception.”

You shook your head with a soft laugh, though you couldn’t entirely hide the tension in your features as another faint wave of unease settled in your stomach. Jason’s sharp gaze didn’t miss it. He tilted his head slightly, his expression softening.

“You’ve been quiet today,” he said, his voice dropping to something more concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you replied too quickly, shifting slightly under his gaze. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long few days.”

Jason frowned, unconvinced. “You’re not a very good liar, you know.” He reached out, brushing his knuckles lightly against your cheek. “Is it the pregnancy?”

You hesitated, then sighed, nodding reluctantly. “The headaches, the queasiness… it’s worse than I thought it would be.”

Jason’s brow furrowed, a mix of worry and frustration crossing his face. “You should have said something sooner.”

“I didn’t want to make a fuss,” you admitted, looking away. “It’s not as though this is unexpected.”

Jason stood, straightening to his full height as he crossed his arms. “We’ll adjust the plans, then. No long rides. Shorter stops. You’ll rest when you need to.”

You looked up at him, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “What, no parades? No feasts in every town we pass?”

Jason grinned faintly but shook his head. “I’ll survive without them.” He leaned back down, his face close to yours again. “I want you to enjoy this tour, not endure it. You’ll see the Westerlands on your terms—no one else’s.”

You stared at him for a moment, caught off guard by his sincerity. “You’re serious.”

“I am,” Jason said simply, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve waited too long for this, Y/N—for you. I won’t let anything sour it.”

You smiled softly, a warmth spreading in your chest that had nothing to do with the fire roaring in the hearth. “Perhaps you do have a heart beneath all that arrogance.”

Jason smirked, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before straightening once more. “I’ve told you before, wife—there’s far more to me than my good looks.”

“And yet you never stop mentioning them,” you shot back dryly, though the amusement in your voice was clear.

Jason laughed, returning to the maps on the table. “Rest for now,” he said over his shoulder. “Tomorrow, we begin our tour, and I promise—no one will outshine you.”

“Not even Morrath?” you teased, leaning back in your chair.

Jason glanced at you with a wicked grin. “Not even your dragon.”

You smiled faintly, closing your eyes for a moment as Jason returned to his preparations.

The Golden Tooth rose before you, carved into the mountains like a sentinel guarding the passage to the Westerlands. Its towers caught the afternoon sun, reflecting light like polished metal, and its banners—deep blue emblazoned with the golden sun of House Lefford—fluttered proudly in the wind. Though not as sprawling as Casterly Rock, the Golden Tooth was no less formidable. The castle’s position at the heart of the mountain pass made it a gatekeeper to the riches of the West, a fact Jason had mentioned with considerable pride as you approached on horseback, insisting to ride while you still could.

“It’s been nearly a century since someone from House Targaryen visited here,” Jason remarked, reining in his horse to admire the view. He sat tall in the saddle, his crimson cloak trailing behind him like a war banner. “The last was King Jaehaerys himself during his long reign. My forebears still boast of the feast that was held here in his honor.”

You tilted your head, shielding your eyes against the sun. “Let me guess—he was presented with gold, as befitting a guest of the Tooth?”

“Gold and enough wine to drown a knight,” Jason said with a smirk. “I’m sure the Leffords intend to do the same for us.”

The entourage that accompanied you—a collection of Lannister men, guards, and a small traveling party of retainers—moved steadily toward the castle gates, the clatter of hooves echoing against the stone walls. You spotted the banners of House Lannister side by side with House Lefford’s, a visual reminder of the allegiance between the two houses.

At the gates, Lord Lefford himself awaited your arrival. A man of middling years with graying hair and a sharp, hawkish nose, he wore a blue doublet trimmed with gold thread, his demeanor formal but respectful. Behind him stood his family—sons and daughters, their faces eager to witness the princess of House Targaryen and the lord who had claimed her.

“Welcome to the Golden Tooth, Lord Jason, Princess Y/N,” Lord Lefford greeted, bowing low. “It is an honor to host you both. The Tooth has been prepared to meet its dragon and lion.”

Jason dismounted smoothly, flashing a confident smile as he extended his hand to help you down. “You honor us with your hospitality, my lord.”

As you stepped lightly to the ground, Jason kept hold of your hand just a moment longer, his thumb brushing against your knuckles before he released you. You turned to Lord Lefford with a polite smile, inclining your head. “It is said the Golden Tooth guards the West’s wealth as fiercely as a dragon guards its hoard. I look forward to seeing it for myself.”

Lord Lefford’s thin lips quirked into a smile at the compliment. “You are most welcome, Princess. A feast has been prepared in your honor, as is proper.” He gestured toward the open gates, where the castle’s inner courtyard bustled with servants and guards. “Please, come inside. The hall awaits.”

Jason grinned as he offered you his arm, guiding you through the gates. “See? I told you they’d make a show of it. It wouldn’t do to host a Targaryen poorly.”

As you entered the castle grounds, you noted the striking design of the Golden Tooth—stone walls streaked with veins of gold and richly adorned with banners and carvings. Everywhere, it seemed, was a subtle reminder of the wealth House Lefford guarded. Servants bowed as you passed, and murmurs spread through the gathered onlookers: “The princess of dragons… the lion’s bride…”

Jason leaned toward you, his voice low. “Enjoy the attention. It’s not every day they see a Targaryen here.”

“Nor a Lannister so pleased with himself,” you quipped, earning a soft chuckle.

The great hall of the Golden Tooth was smaller than Casterly Rock’s but no less grand. Golden candelabras lined the long tables, and a massive tapestry depicting the sun of House Lefford draped the far wall, its threads shimmering under the flickering torchlight. Servants bustled about, setting trays of roasted meats, fresh bread, and steaming dishes in preparation for the feast.

Lord Lefford escorted you to the high table at the head of the hall, where seats had been arranged for you and Jason. “It is our greatest joy to host such an illustrious couple,” he said, gesturing for you both to sit. “May this be but the beginning of many prosperous visits to the Golden Tooth.”

Jason inclined his head graciously, sliding into his seat with the ease of a man born to courtly life. “The West grows stronger when its houses remain united,” he replied smoothly. “And with a dragon at my side, I’d say the future looks bright.”

There was a round of polite applause and murmurs of agreement as you settled in beside him. A goblet of watered wine was placed before you, its surface reflecting the firelight, and you took a small sip, already feeling the weight of the gazes lingering on you.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you murmured to Jason as Lord Lefford’s steward began announcing the courses.

“Immensely,” Jason replied, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “I’d wager half the lords here came just to catch a glimpse of you.”

“I suppose I should be flattered,” you replied, though the weight of your condition—a lingering queasiness—made it hard to enjoy the spectacle as much as Jason did. “And what of you? Do you find the admiration dull?”

Jason smirked, leaning back in his chair as though he belonged on a throne. “Not in the least. I worked hard to win you, wife. Let them see what a Lannister can accomplish.”

You shook your head faintly, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Your pride will be the death of us all.”

“Perhaps,” Jason replied with a grin. “But at least it’ll be a glorious death.”

The feast began in earnest, with toasts raised to House Lefford, House Lannister, and House Targaryen. You let the chatter and music wash over you, though you couldn’t shake the quiet unease in your stomach. Jason, as ever, noticed, leaning closer to you as a fresh platter of venison was placed before you.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his tone low and private. “Are you well?”

“I’m fine,” you said softly, though you avoided his gaze. “The day has simply been long.”

Jason studied you for a moment, his expression softening slightly before he straightened in his seat. “Then let tonight be short. Tomorrow, you’ll see what lies beyond these walls.”

You nodded faintly, grateful for the promise of rest even as Jason turned his attention back to the lords now vying for his favor. Though he played the part of the gracious lord, you could feel the subtle press of his concern through the small touches—his hand resting at your waist when he stood to toast, his voice softening when he spoke to you alone.

The Golden Tooth, for all its wealth and grandeur, felt like yet another stage on which Jason Lannister would shine. And though you smiled and played your part, the shadows in the torchlight seemed to follow you, a quiet reminder that something deeper lingered beneath all the gold.

The chambers appointed to you and Jason within the Golden Tooth were every bit as gilded and ornate as the castle itself. Rich sconces lined the walls, casting a warm glow over intricately woven blue and gold tapestries. The bed—a grand, canopied structure—loomed large in the center of the room, its curtains the same deep blue as House Lefford’s sigil. The air smelled faintly of scented candles, though their sweetness did little to soothe the fatigue dragging at your limbs.

You lowered yourself onto the cushioned seat by the hearth with a soft sigh, one hand instinctively resting against your abdomen as the weight of the day finally pressed down on you. Jason closed the heavy door behind him, the sound echoing softly in the stillness, before turning to regard you with a frown that barely masked his concern.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” he said simply, shrugging off his crimson cloak and tossing it onto a nearby chair. “All day, you’ve been pale, and I’ve seen the way you grit your teeth when you think no one’s looking.”

“I’m fine,” you replied, though even you heard the lack of conviction in your voice. “It’s just been a long day of riding, feasting, and smiling.”

Jason strode toward you, his boots clicking against the polished stone floor. He crouched in front of you, resting his hands on the arms of the chair as he studied your face, his green eyes sharp and unrelenting. “Liar.”

You glared faintly at him, though it lacked bite. “And what would you have me do? Disappear to my chambers halfway through a feast? It’s our honeymoon, Jason. If you wish to show me off to every lord and lady in the Westerlands, I need to play my part.”

Jason’s expression softened as he leaned forward slightly. “I don’t need you to ‘play your part,’” he said, his voice quieter now. “Not at the cost of your health.”

You exhaled, letting your head rest against the back of the chair as your gaze drifted toward the ceiling. “I’m not fragile.”

“I never said you were,” Jason murmured, his tone almost gentle. “But even dragons must rest when they’re carrying something precious.”

You turned your head to look at him, arching an eyebrow. “Have you taken to poetry now? Is this how you plan to coddle me?”

Jason grinned faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “If it works, I’ll become a bard by the end of this tour.” He shifted to sit on the edge of the table beside you, one hand still resting on your knee. “You don’t need to impress anyone here—not the Leffords, not the rest of my bannermen.”

“I wasn’t doing it for them,” you admitted, your voice soft. “I was doing it for you.”

Jason blinked, clearly caught off guard. For once, he didn’t have a quick retort or teasing quip. “For me?” he echoed after a beat.

You met his gaze, your hand resting lightly over his where it lingered on your knee. “This marriage… this union between our houses—it means more to you than you let on. I see it. You’re proud of it, proud of us, and I won’t let you face these lords and ladies with a wife who can’t hold herself together.”

Jason’s fingers flexed slightly beneath yours, his gaze softening in a way that made your chest tighten. “You stubborn, maddening woman,” he said quietly, though there was no heat in his words. “I didn’t marry you to parade you like some prize.”

You smirked faintly. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Jason let out a low laugh, shaking his head before leaning forward, his hand rising to cup your cheek. “I married you because you’re fire and steel wrapped in silk, and you’re mine.” His thumb brushed lightly along your jaw. “But if you fall over because you’re too proud to say you’re unwell, I’ll be the one left looking like a fool.”

You couldn’t help but smile faintly, though the fatigue still pulled at you like an invisible weight. “You sound like a concerned husband.”

Jason arched an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “You’d better get used to it.” He leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before standing and walking to pour watered wine into two goblets. He brought one back and placed it in your hands. “Drink. You’ll feel better.”

You took the cup gratefully, though you only sipped. Jason took the seat across from you, stretching his legs out with the ease of a man who had everything in hand. “Tomorrow we’ll spend less time talking to them and more time seeing the land,” he said, his tone casual but firm. “I’ll have Morrath flown to meet us at the next stop if her presence would ease your spirit.”

You tilted your head slightly, giving him a look. “And what of the danger? You’ve been fretting about me all evening, yet now you suggest I take to dragonback?”

Jason held up a hand, cutting you off with that same roguish smirk. “I didn’t say you’d be riding Morrath. I’ll have a carriage prepared for you instead.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. “A carriage?”

“Exactly,” Jason replied smoothly, as though it were the most obvious solution. “Horseback is too much for you right now, and dragonback…” he shook his head slightly, “far too dangerous, no matter what you claim. A carriage is safer, steadier.”

“I don’t need—” you started, but Jason raised an eyebrow, silencing you.

“Indulge me, wife,” he said firmly, though his voice held a hint of softness. “You’ll ride in comfort, and I’ll ride beside you. The lords of the Westerlands can wait another day to see your dragon.”

You stared at him for a moment, weighing your options. Jason, for all his charm and arrogance, was unmoving on this, his expression set with quiet determination. At last, you sighed, taking another sip of the watered wine. “Fine. A carriage it is. Maybe. But if you so much as wrap me in furs and treat me like a porcelain doll, I’ll let Morrath scorch your tour.”

Jason grinned, clearly triumphant. “Fair enough. I’ll take my chances.”

You shook your head, though the faint smile on your lips betrayed your exasperation.

Jason’s green eyes never left yours as he rose to his feet, leaving the wine goblet forgotten on the table. The smirk curling his lips now was one you knew all too well—playful, yet edged with something deeper, something darker.

“You’re looking at me like that again,” you murmured, though your tone was hardly scolding.

Jason stepped closer, his broad shoulders filling the space before you. “Like what?”

“Like you mean to have me,” you replied, arching an eyebrow in mock challenge.

He leaned down, hands bracing on the arms of the chair, caging you in. “I always mean to have you, wife. And tonight is no exception.”

You let out a soft, amused hum, tilting your head to look at him fully. “Must we scandalize every chamber in every castle that hosts us?”

Jason’s grin widened, bold and shameless. “It would be rude to stop now. Think of it as a gift to our hosts—a tale they can whisper for years to come.”

You laughed softly at that, shaking your head even as your pulse quickened. Jason had a way of turning every moment—mundane or grand—into something thrilling. It was infuriating… and intoxicating.

“Scandalous indeed,” you quipped, lifting your chin. “Though I’m beginning to suspect your motives.”

Jason reached out, his fingers curling beneath your chin to tip your face up toward his. “Perhaps this time, I’ll argue it may even help your condition. A remedy of sorts.”

You gave him a look of pure incredulity, though your lips curved into a smile. “Oh, is that so?”

“Mm.” Jason nodded solemnly, though his eyes gleamed with mischief. “I’m nothing if not a devoted husband.”

You couldn’t contain your laugh, but it quickly died when he tugged you gently to your feet, his hand resting warm against your waist. He turned you, guiding you with surprising tenderness until your back was to him. “Let me see you,” he murmured near your ear, his voice low and rough, stirring something deep within you.

You lifted your skirts with deliberate slowness, the silk pooling over your forearms as you felt Jason’s eyes rake over you. “Is this what you want, my lord?” you teased softly, turning your head just enough to see the hunger darken his features.

Jason’s response was wordless—a low sound that rumbled in his chest as he stepped closer, his hands falling to your hips. He traced slow circles there, his fingers firm but reverent. “You’re a wicked woman,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Always ready for me, aren’t you?”

The way he said it—crude and affectionate in equal measure—sent a shudder through you, but you weren’t about to let him go unchecked. “If you keep talking, I won’t be,” you retorted breathlessly.

Jason chuckled softly, his hand slipping lower, exploring you with knowing intent. His touch was slow, deliberate, making you writhe beneath him as your breathing grew uneven. “Hush,” he murmured against your neck, his lips grazing the sensitive skin. “You’re perfect for me.”

You bit your lip to stifle a whimper, but there was no masking the way your body reacted to him—how you leaned into his touch, how you pushed back against him. Jason’s hand left you for a brief moment, and you heard the telltale sound of him undoing his belt, his breeches loosening.

When he pressed into you, a gasp escaped your lips, your fingers curling into the fabric of your skirts. Jason stilled for a moment, his hand finding the soft swell of your abdomen. His palm lingered there, reverently, before your hand instinctively covered his.

“You feel this?” he murmured, his voice quieter now, threaded with something gentler. “You carry part of us here.”

Your heart clenched at the raw tenderness in his tone, even as the sensation of him filling you made your body hum with pleasure. “Jason,” you whispered, his name escaping you in a sigh.

He didn’t respond with words, only movement—slow at first, measured, until your body adjusted around him. His other hand gripped your hip, steadying you as he found a rhythm that made you bite back cries of pleasure. It was always like this between you—wild, consuming, as though you might burn the very room down with the fire you created.

Jason pressed his body closer against you, his chest flush to your back as he moved faster, harder. His breath was ragged against your ear, his voice rough and low. “You take me so well… like you were made for this.”

You moaned at his words, your free hand reaching back to grasp at him blindly, desperate for more contact. Jason groaned softly at your touch, his hips snapping forward in a way that made your knees nearly buckle.

“Careful,” he murmured with a dark chuckle, though his voice was strained now. “I need you to stay upright for me.”

You turned your head, a smirk playing at your lips even as your breath came in shallow gasps. “Then stop teasing me and finish what you started.”

Jason’s grip on your hips tightened, his movements growing more urgent as your words spurred him on. You felt the tension build in your core, winding tighter with every thrust until it reached a breaking point. Your body trembled as pleasure rolled through you, leaving you breathless, your cries muffled by the crook of your arm.

Jason followed soon after, his body shuddering as he groaned your name, his hands keeping you close, as though he might anchor himself to you.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the chamber were your mingled breaths and the faint crackle of the hearthfire. Jason finally let out a satisfied sigh, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder before resting his forehead there.

“Are you alive?” he teased, his voice husky.

You let out a tired laugh, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Barely. You might need to carry me to that grand bed now.”

Jason grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief as he wrapped his arms around you and turned you toward him. “Gladly. But you’d best rest tonight, wife. Tomorrow’s scandal will require your full strength.”

You rolled your eyes fondly, though you couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. “You sound so sure of yourself.”

“And you love it,” Jason countered smugly, lifting you easily into his arms as he carried you toward the bed.

And gods help you—you did.

The walls of the Golden Tooth stretched high, a stone spine running the perimeter of the fortress, its battlements lined with guards and banners rippling in the crisp morning air. Jason walked ahead with Lord Lefford and a small procession of bannermen, their crimson cloaks mingling with the deep blue of House Lefford. The men’s conversation hummed with talk of defenses, trade routes, and the wealth of the West, Jason’s voice carrying with the casual authority of a man who was both at ease and entirely in his element.

A few paces behind them, you walked alongside Lady Lefford and a cluster of noblewomen who had attached themselves to you like moths to flame. The ladies’ dresses fluttered with each step, whispers of fine silk and brocade, while their voices filled the air with idle chatter and thinly-veiled attempts to gain your favor.

“Such a pleasant morning, is it not, Princess?” Lady Lefford said smoothly, her tone as polished as the golden threads in her gown. “Lord Jason speaks so highly of your grace and presence—it’s no wonder the Westerlands have taken such an interest in you.”

You offered her a faint smile, polite but noncommittal. “You are too kind, my lady.”

The walk had been a test of patience thus far, with Lady Lefford’s subtle flattery and the other women peppering you with questions that bordered on impertinent. You could feel their eyes lingering on you—on your dress, on the small but undeniable swell beneath your bodice.

One of the younger, bolder ladies—Lady Ameline of House Brax—stepped closer, her smile curving with a sharpness that suggested little concern for propriety. “Your Grace,” she began with a singsong lilt, “I must ask what every woman here is too afraid to say.”

You glanced at her, arching a brow. “Should I be worried about this question, my lady?”

Lady Ameline giggled, unabashed. “Not at all! We’ve merely been wondering… is it true that Lord Jason keeps you mostly in your chambers?” She tilted her head with mock innocence. “It is said he must be… skilled, to demand so much of your time.”

A hush fell over the group, the other ladies exchanging nervous glances and poorly concealed smiles. Lady Lefford cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable with the boldness of the remark, but she said nothing.

You paused mid-step, turning to face Lady Ameline fully. The younger woman’s smile faltered slightly under your gaze, though she masked it well. “And what,” you began, your voice cool and measured, “gave that away? Was it the child in my belly that betrayed my fondness for my husband’s company?”

Lady Ameline blinked, clearly not expecting such a direct response. A faint flush crept up her cheeks as the other women tittered nervously.

You took a step closer, your voice dropping slightly, though there was an edge to it that cut through the morning calm. “I would caution you, Lady Ameline, to remember your place. A Lannister’s pride is sharp enough—but a dragon’s fire is far sharper.”

The laughter among the other women ceased immediately, replaced by an uneasy silence. Lady Ameline’s bravado crumbled under the weight of your words, and she dipped into a quick, nervous curtsy. “Forgive me, Princess. I meant no offense.”

“Of course you didn’t,” you replied smoothly, your smile faint but unmistakably pointed. “But I suggest you tread carefully, lest you find yourself burned.”

Lady Lefford, ever the diplomat, stepped in quickly, clearing her throat once more as she gestured toward the battlements ahead. “The view from the north tower is particularly lovely this time of day. Perhaps we might move along, ladies?”

The group murmured their agreements, though their steps were quieter now, their gazes avoiding yours. You fell back into step beside Lady Lefford, who offered you a faint, apologetic smile. “I hope you’ll forgive their curiosity, Princess. It is not often we host such distinguished guests.”

“Curiosity is expected,” you replied coolly, your gaze flicking briefly to Lady Ameline, who now lingered toward the back of the group. “But I don’t take kindly to foolishness.”

Ahead, Jason turned his head slightly, as if sensing the shift in the air. He glanced back at you over his shoulder, his green eyes sharp with interest. You caught his look, and for a moment, you thought he might ask what had transpired, but instead, he smirked faintly, as if amused by something only he understood.

Jason turned back to Lord Lefford, his voice carrying again over the stones. “The Golden Tooth remains as formidable as ever, my lord. A fine stronghold—though one can’t help but admire its softer touches as well.”

From behind, you couldn’t stop the faint smile that tugged at your lips. Jason Lannister could fill a hall with his arrogance, but you couldn’t deny he had a certain way of owning every room, every moment. Even without looking, you could feel his confidence anchoring the space around you.

Lady Lefford leaned closer as you resumed walking. “It is clear the lord cares greatly for you, Princess. And I must say, your presence here is already felt. The Golden Tooth has never shone quite so brightly.”

You nodded politely, though your mind lingered on Jason’s smirk and the whispered words that had prompted your earlier warning. You would have to remind yourself later: these were your husband’s bannermen, yes, but you were still a Targaryen. And dragons, after all, were not to be trifled with.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #fire and blood #house targaryen #house lannister #game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #hotd jason #jason lannister #jason x reader #jason x you #jason x y/n #between pride and fire

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ashblooddragons · 5 months ago

Text

The Red Queen (Chapter 1\?)

107 ac Kingslanding

Aemma’s pov

I sit in a rocking chair as I watch you stack blocks only to knock them over, and like always you turn to me for approval and when I clap you smile big showing your first tooth. I sigh once you gets back to playing, the lady Alicent has been coming to play with you since you were six moons stating she noticed Rhaenyra doesn’t play with you, but I know she was sent by her father to get in me and Viserys good graces.

Today you’ve been quite pouty and upset, and I know exactly why. Daemon has been sent to the Vale to be with his wife for at least half moons turn. Viserys was lucky he got Daemon to agree to that much, as Daemon hardly leaves you as it is. It shocks the court how protective he is of you, he doesnt let anyone hold you in his presence besides me, Viserys, or himself. Because of this over protectiveness you’ve grown quite attached to him and his blasted dragon he demands you ride with him on. If the court thinks Daemon is over protective they havent watched that wyrm growl at me, your own mother, because I picked you up. Thankfully Daemon doesn't believe you should sit on the saddle yet, so he straps you to his chest via cloth wraps commeners use. I must admit my heart about jumps out of my chest everytime you fly with him, but when you come back down, and you have that smile on your face it all seems worth it.

As I’m musing someone knocks at the nursery door. “Alicent would you be a dear and see who that might be?” I ask as I stroke my stomach. Me and Viserys found out two moons ago that I’m with child…again. One of us was over joyed, the other wanted a long nap after finishing raspberry and ginger tea for my nausea and sore ankles.

Alicent nods and gets up off the floor and goes to the door. “It's Princess Rhaenys and her daughter Laena, Your Grace.” she says looking at me to see if she should let them in. “yes please, and would you leave us darling? I need to have a talk with the princess.” I say to which Alicent nods and moves towards you to pick you up, but i stop her with a shake of my head.

Once Alicent has left and Rhaenys, and Laena are in the room I sigh. “The girl always with you?” Rhaenys asks in that cold tone she always has.

“Yes, but I must admit she is quite helpful.” I respond through another sigh. This one is quite a mover cause I never can quite seem to chase the nausea away. “So I’m assuming you got my raven?” I ask once she sets Laena down on the ground next to you.

“Yes, I did.” Is the only answer I get, so I nod and watch as our daughters play together. We’ve sat in silence for quite a while, the only source of noise coming from you and Laena as you play and babble. This is why I about jump out of my skin when Rhaenys starts to talk again. “Has Rhaenyra truly not come around to her baby sister?” she asks with a amused smirk.

“No, nothing we do has helped as of yet. We’ve tries stories, games, walks, picnics, even going to the Dragon pit so Rhaenyra can show her Syrax, but that only ended in her throwing a tantrum and getting on Syrax, only coming down once we’ve left.” I say disappointedly, and I must sound truly pathetic, cause Rhaenys reaches over and holds my hand.

She hums in understanding and sympathy. Rhaenys has always been a woman of few words, never seeing the point in hiding ones true thoughts in words, preferring to speak plainly or not at all. I quite enjoy this as you always know what she’s saying is the truth, it’s the main reason she’s my favorite out of my cousins.

“Well, I cannot say Laena will be here all the time, but I suppose the children and I would like to be closer to Corlys.” She says smiling as you and Laena chase each other, her running away laughing and you crawling after her giggling. “Besides a child needs a friend close in age to them.” she says as we both watch chuckling at you two.

“I feel a life long friendship in their future, don’t you agree?” she says looking at me. All I can do is nod and smile. My little girl will have a friend for life in the little Velaryon.

109 ac Dragonstone

Your pov

Me and Laena run out of the feast together, it’s my sisters nameday party and she demanded it be held at this place…Dragonpot? My sister doesn’t seem to like me very much, so me and Laena decided to look for dragons. We heard this place has LOTS of them, I mean it’s called Dragonpot for a reason, right?

“Laena it’s raining! Are you sure this is a good idea? I ask as she drags me out of the castle and into the rain. “Oh it’ll be fine! Stop being a worry wart! You want a dragon or not? This is our chance, might be the only we get!” Laena says back, to which I nod and follow after her towards the beach. The wind is so harsh we’re holding onto each other to stay standing, and our hair is perpetually in our faces. Because of these things we don’t notice the two dragons in front of us, well not until we hear the growls. We both push our hair back and look up at the two dragons, one white as snow and the other a slate grey. The white one is eating a pile of fish, while the other has two dead horses in front of it.

“Um, maybe I was wrong, I don’t think this is a good idea anymore.” Laena says as we stand frozen in front of the dragons. “What are you on about, they won’t hurt us!” I say matter of factly. Caraxes never hurts me, in fact he doesn’t seem to like people around me not even my Kepus. “Watch Laena, you just walk up and pet them and then they make happy clicky sounds.” I say confidently as I walk forward smiling as I reach out to pet the white one. Laena keeps calling my name and the wind must be bad cause I hear other people calling for us too, but that can’t be true cause they’re all inside for my sisters nameday.

The white one growls abit but once i touch it, the growling stops and almost seems shocked. “Whoa that’s it? I’m gonna try.” Laena says as she runs over to the other dragon. Laena reaches out to touch the other one but it snaps at her, she frowns and yells at it. “Stop being a meanie! I will pet you!” which seems to surprise the dragon enough for her to touch it an start petting.

By this point there is no denying people are calling for us. I turn around and see mine and Laenas Mamas, Papas, Laena’s brother, my sister, Ali, and my Kepus. The Only ones who seem to be moving closer though is Laenas Mama and my Kepus. “Kepus I got a dragon!” I yell to him which catches Laenas attention and she yells to her Mama. “look Mommy, I got one too!”

“Yes, yes we see now get over here right now!” Kepus yells at us which shocks me cause he’s never yelled at me, not once. We look at our dragons sadly before running over to them. “Dont ever scare me like that again! Do you understand!” Kepus yells and I nod trying not to cry.

Once we get in and they have us in our nightdresses and covered in furs our parents and my Kepus sit us by the fire and stare down at us. “What in the seven hells were you two thinking? Running out in a storm like this to hunt down dragons!” Laenas Papa yells as we hang our heads as we cry from their disappointment.

“You guys said this place has lots of dragons, we just wanted ones of our own. So I can be like Mama and she can be like her Kepus.” Laena sobs out and I nod my head in agreement. “Yes well did you two need to be stormchasers as well? Those damned dragons seem to agree with you on this being wonderful weather to be outside!” Laenas Papa keeps going. We hear a silent ‘my love.’ and he just sighs and sits in a chair hanging his head in his hands.

“We understand you wanted dragons darling, but you scared us greatly running off like that in a storm. Let alone what those dragons are. Laena you claimed Mongrel and you claimed-” But I cut off Laenas Mama. “I claimed Stormchaser.” I say confidently as my Kepus bends down to wipe my tears away.

“Is that what we’re calling him?” Kepus asks, to which I make a face. “It’s not a boy Kepus, it’s girl!” I say resolutely, which seems to have amused him as he chuckles and ruffles my hair. “How silly of me, sweetling. Of course it’s a girl.”

That was the day Laena and I became dragon riders, and our friendship solidified.

Series Masterlist

Special thanks to @sugutoad for making the header!

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alicentsgf · 4 months ago

Note

They didn’t add Maelor for one reason: Episode 8.

Rhaenyra needs the whole of Team Green’s male line dead. Her brothers are a threat to Jace’s claim, there’s no way around this plus Aemond committed the most unforgivable sin of killing Luke. She’s after blood, sure it’s cruel but at the end of day that’s war for you and they’re adult men whose own mother doesn’t give a crap about so why should she? 🤷🏽‍♀️

So Rhaenyra wanting a bunch of grown men dead? Yeah sure, it’s cruel but whatever.

Rhaenyra wanting a BABY dead? That’s plain evil! They’ve already had her clutch at pearls hearing about B&C, they can’t have her turn around and declare baby Maelor’s tiny head needs to be hoisted on a spike!

Likewise, their pathetic attempt at justifying Alicent’s treachery is that “men are bad, women are good”. Where does a male baby come into play? It’s bad enough they’re having her throw her whole family under the bus to save her own skin, but including a baby??? That’s too far, even for them.

So to sum up, Maelor doesn’t exist in HotD so that:

Rhaenyra can still be rightfully moral and just, she only wants adult men dead to protect her teenage son, she would never harm an innocent.

Alicent has some semblance of morality, she’s only sacrificing adults not babies!

Its always the same thing.

Like if you have to erase whole established story lines, (whole children!) to make rhaenyra look good. Then maybe it wasnt all "green propaganda" after all.

#🤦‍♀️#i feel like you've hit the nail on the head with this #ask #anon #hotd critical #aegon targaryen #alicent hightower #maelor the missing

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asumofwords · 1 year ago

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello my babies, this has certainly been a build up, say 98 chapters long? Thank you all so much for your love, and messages, and support, I really hope you enjoy the way I eventually end SF&A. This was originally two shorter chapters, but I decided to combine them together instead. Bold italics are inner thoughts and flash backs as per usual. I have so much more I want to say but won't because you want to read it, and obviously we will talk after!!! Enjoy <3

Chapter 98: Hand Turns Loom, Hen Kasta naejot Zōbrie

When your mother had been crowned, you remember the day clearly.

How all the Lords and Ladies around you, knights, Maesters, maids; all those in her presence bent the knee.

All but Rhaenys.

How the sound of their rustling robes, their shifting pommels of armour, or clanking of their swords filled the air around you.

How your heart had swelled with pride, how deep and pure it had been. How you had felt adoration, devotion, and had no second thought about digging your knee into the ground below, bowing your head to your Queen.

But now, your knees would not budge, not even if you had wanted them to.

They did not bend, or creak, or crack.

They locked.

Refusing to drop down to the stone floor below. Refusing to meet the cold, hard surface, which would no doubt send crawling ice up your knees and body, but not only that, it would be to give in.

To give up.

To bend the knee to a monster.

And you had endured far too much to do that.

Too far to turn back now.

You would not bend the knee to Aegon, and so there you stood, in the throne room, before the Iron Throne, and the Small Council, refusing to kneel.

Refusing to swear him as your King.

Refusing to back down.

Gods be good.

Be on my side.

You could feel the heated gaze of your husband, and yet you did not tear your own away from the man before you, who took slow and calculated steps, each one echoing into the sparse hall as his boots thumped against the stones.

You did not try to move, nor would you have had the chance with the guards behind you, their presence coming closer. The warmth of their bodies behind you made the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end.

His violet eyes bore into your own.

His own flesh and blood.

His niece.

Your uncle.

Someone you had grown up beside. Someone who you had played with, and laughed with, and fought with. Someone who had grown into the monster he was today. And so he stalked towards you, and still you did not kneel.

Aegon, watching your refusal, looked to the guards on either side of you, and nodded.

Dracarys, Lucerys whispered in your mind.

Your knees hit the ground with a resounding crack, pain shooting up the both of them as the guards had grabbed you by each shoulder and forced you to the stone floor. Aemond shifted in your periphery, and you saw Alicent go to him quickly, grabbing his arm to keep him back, and yet you could not take your eyes away from the man who stood before you, hand resting atop the hilt of his sword, Conquerors Crown atop his silver waves.

This was it.

Today the Stranger comes for me.

Aegon smiled down at you as he watched you come to the realisation. And yet still, you made no move to swear yourself to him. No move to call him King. No move to save yourself. And although you had been forced to your knees before him, you had not bent them of your own accord.

“The punishment for a crime like this is death.” Aegon boomed to the chambers, voice echoing off the stone walls, his steps becoming slower as he came closer towards you, "I could have you hanged on the wall, or send you to the butchers block. Perhaps I could even feed you to Sunfyre.”

“Aegon.” Aemond's voice came from behind, clipped and short, held back by the last threads of his resolve.

You let yourself look at your husband, and saw that he had made his way closer, though Alicent still stood in front of him, hand on his chest as an act of a human barricade between her two sons.

Holding him back.

“Silence.” Aegon boomed, “Ser Otto, if Aemond speaks again, have him arrested and taken down to the cells where he can stay until the sentence has been served.”

You had thought to look to Aemond with your eyes for help, to beg for him to come to you, but all you had seen was the same man who had left you the last time you were here.

There was no saving you this time.

Dracarys.

The Small Council remained silent, not even Otto Hightower seemed to think he could talk reason into the King, and so he stood, eyes looking over the top of you at the opposite side of the throne Aemond was.

The King hummed, looking down his nose at you as a wide smile cracked across his pink lips, “Or…" He breathed, "You could take your place at my side as my wife.”

Wife.

Ice ran down your back as you looked at him, your heart beating rapidly in your chest, fingers tingling from the grip the guards had on your shoulders and arms.

It was in that moment, that you knew there was no going back from this.

Dracarys.

“Annul your marriage to my brother in the eyes of the Seven, and I shall take you as my second wife.” He purred, the proposition sounding as though it was a benevolent offering, when all those who were present truly knew the more sinister reasoning behind it, “You may atone for your sins and crimes by birthing me heirs, as is your purpose, whilst also upholding the terms of the treaty. An honour given to you which you don’t deserve.”

You jolted forward, grunting, trying to rip the arms of the guards from you so that you could launch yourself forward. Muscles in your arms burning from the struggle.

You were going to die.

And you would not go down without ripping his throat out with your teeth.

The guards hands tightened further, seams of your gown ripping as you struggled from below. Your eyes flicked momentarily to Aemond again, who looked as though he was fighting a battle of his own, but you knew, deep down you knew, he would do nothing.

As he always had.

And so you kept your eyes on the brother in front of you.

“My Husband-“ You began, venom dripping from your tongue.

“-Is my brother.” Aegon snipped, “And swore himself to me as King. He is bound by duty to the realm, and duty to the Crown. Aemond should be honoured that I would take his wife as my own. You would be wed to a King, not a second son.”

You sneered, trying to throw yourself forward at him, but Aegon did not flinch, and the guards pulled you backwards hastily, knees grazed by the stones below.

“Fuck you.” You hissed, teeth grinding against each other, heat in your cheeks, and blood thumping in your veins.

Dracarys.

The King laughed, head thrown back and violet eyes shut before he locked them back onto you. He smiled appreciatively, eyes roaming down your face, to the tight bodice of your dress and the way your skirts clung to your waist, all the way down to your knees on the stone.

“You are ready to serve me, as you are.” Your eldest uncle turned his head to look back at Aemond, “I will make her a good wife, one that can be tamed. One who will obey and follow orders, and all the while the treaty will be held. I am far more capable of tending to her needs, and a marriage to me is far better than death.”

You swirled your tongue in your mouth before spitting upon Aegon’s leather boots, “I will kill myself before I ever let you touch me again. I will throw myself from the window Helaena did rather than have your monster grow inside of me. And then my family will come you. Fire and blood, they will come. And you will die.”

The pain came before you registered what had happened, the sting spreading across your cheek as your head snapped to the side of the room, eyes trained tearily on the floor.

Alicent was heard in the background, hissing to her younger son, "Stop!"

Your ears rang, and you tasted the coppery tang of blood in your mouth.

You slowly turned your head back to the King, hair having fallen over your face from where it had come loose from your braids. You spat a bloody glob of spit at him again, attempting to aim higher, but the blood merely sprayed towards him and landed at his feet.

Dracarys.

His eyes narrowed, and his lips pulled back into a sneer.

“The Princess must have a weapon on hand. Strip her.” Aegon commanded, eyes jerking towards Ser Cole, who shuffled awkwardly on his feet.

Your head snapped towards the knight, “Touch me, and I will kill you. I’ll fucking kill you, Cole.”

Ser Criston Cole, a man sworn to his King, known as King Maker, stood dumbly as he looked to you and then to the man who commanded him. His tan skin was flushed at his neck, a pinkish purple spreading up from beneath the breastplate he wore, and his piercing eyes darting back and forth in decision.

This was not the first time that Ser Cole had been commanded to act in way that was not in protection of who he was sworn to.

Once before with Alicent.

And now with her son.

The Dowager Queen made quick steps towards you both, “Aegon.” She growled, leaving her younger son behind as her feet echoed on the stone floor, "Stop this madness."

You desperately tried to wriggle out of the guards grip, hissing and grunting, knees digging painfully into the stones as your dress ripped beneath.

A knight came towards Alicent, hand held outwards towards her in preventing her from coming any further, “The treaty, Aegon. Think of how Rhaenyra will react when she hears about this!”

Aegon snapped his head towards his mother, “Fuck the treaty.” He sneered, looking back at Ser Cole, “I command you to strip this traitor, and reveal the weapon she no doubt hides on her person.”

Ser Cole swayed, his long, white cloak grazing against the cold stone floors as he started to slowly approach you, eyes on you with a look of regret. A look of apprehension.

One of pity. One of guilt. One of disgust.

They were going to strip you.

Before all the eyes of the Council.

“You’re a monster.” You hissed, ripping a hand from one of the guards, reaching out to grasp at the King’s robes who stood in front of you, fingertips grazing his breeches.

For the first time, Aegon flinched backwards, and the guards rushed forward again, yanking you backwards and holding your arms behind you as you cussed, and cursed at them all, pain rippling through your arms.

“Kostagon se Jaes' ossēnagon jeme! Kostagon pōnta ivestragī nyke urnēbagon jeme zālagon. Kostagon pōnta tepagon nyke se kustikāne naejot gaomagon ziry nykēla. Jaelan naejot urnēbagon se ōños fade hen aōha qogralbar laesi skori gaoman ziry.”

May the Gods kill you all! May they let me watch you all burn. May they give me the strength to do it myself. I want to watch the light fade from your fucking eyes when I do it.

Aegon leant forward, looking down at you as you struggled, voice quieter now, tutting, “I still remember how wet your cunt had been. How much you bled, and cried. How you called out for my brother. For your father. Kepa!" He mocked you, your stomach roiled and rage nipped at you hotly.

Dracarys.

"I wish it had been me,” He smiled cruelly, “I wish I had taken your maidenhead, like I should have taken it years ago. I should have fucked a bastard into you before you left the Keep.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him, lips curling back in disgust.

Baring your teeth back at him, you pulled at the guards grip, “You are nothing but a worthless, drunken, whoring King, who took naught but a moment until you spilled yourself inside of me. You are the most pathetic excuse for a man."

The King's face rippled with anger, brows drawn as his chest began to heave.

Ser Cole stood to the side, uncertain of what to do, unwilling to move again until commanded, Ser Otto watching with a stoney face, the Small Council shifting on their feet, all the while Alicent stood behind, guard preventing her from moving forward.

The chambers fell still, and Aegon sucked in his cheeks, gathering the spit inside of his mouth, pursing his lips to spit upon you.

A wet warmth landed upon your cheek.

It had been a warm day in Kings Landing.

The small folk had flocked to the beaches, dipping their toes and their clothes into the cold waves, desperate to cool off.

The Red Keep was no different.

Men and women gathered in the shade, or sat in their chambers, fans in hand, whilst servants served them cool cups of ale and wine.

Aegon, being the eldest, had devised a plan to keep cool that day. You were all to hide amongst the secret passageways, the cold stone walls protecting you all from the heat outside, but being the kids that you were, it would not stop you from playing.

“Let the girl get the treats.” Aegon smiled, light leaking into the passageway from the room beside it.

“Why do I have to go to the Kitchens?” You argued, annoyance rolling through you.

Aegon looked to your brothers, and then shortly to Aemond, who all stood in front of you in a line, “Because you’re a girl. One day you’ll be someone’s wife and have to fetch things for your husband. I’m giving you practice.”

Luc and Jace looked at each other, and snickered, though their laughter fell when you gazed at them angrily, “If you want the treats so badly, why don’t you get them. I’m not a maid.” You huffed, folding your arms across your chest.

Aemond shuffled beside his brother, looking down at the dusty floor, scuffing the tip of his shoe into the surface.

Aegon smirked, “You’d be a pretty maid. Mine are all so dull and plain.”

“I’m not going.”

Aegon looked at the three boys beside him, “All in favour for Y/n going to get us treats?” His hand shot up as he loudly proclaimed ‘Aye.’

Jace and Lucerys followed suit, hands lower and voices even lower, their brown eyes refusing to meet yours.

All turned to Aemond, who did not speak, and had raised his violet eyes towards you.

“Come on brother, don’t be a twat.” Aegon chided.

“He’s not a twat, you cunt.” You snipped back.

Aegon laughed, “Come on, niece, play nicely. I’ll even give you a kiss.” Aegon puckered his lips towards you, making kissing noises whilst Jace and Luc scrunched their face in disgust and laughed.

“Leave her alone.” Aemond growled, finally speaking up.

The eldest Prince looked at your two brothers before bursting into laughter, “Sticking up for your love, Aem?”

“Shut up, Aegon.” You snapped.

“Make me.” He grinned, stepping towards you as he pushed you to the ground, you landed on your back with an grunt, staring daggers at Aegon as you jumped up, moving to punch him.

Your eldest uncle was jolted from the side, falling into the narrow walls of the pathway, a cry falling from his lips. His pale hands scrambling to catch himself as he fell into the stone.

Aemond stood, chest heaving as he watched his brother come to the realisation that he had pushed him.

“You little-“

Aegon jumped at Aemond, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar, jerking the younger boy around.

Jace and Luc watched on with wide eyes as you raced forward, "Let go of him!” You screamed.

Aegon’s arm cast out to the side and pushed you to the floor again, your head hitting the stone wall behind you.

You blinked, eyes filling with tears.

Aegon immediately let go of his brother and looked down at you. A tear rolled down your cheek as the back of your head throbbed, a hand coming to rub against the spot of impact.

Aemond raced over to you, kneeling down to check your head.

He turned to his brother, “I’m telling mother.”

Aegon sensing that there was no more fun to be had, spun around and left the secret passage, your brothers following closely behind, casting short glances to you to see if you were okay.

You sniffed, trying to blink away the tears in the shadows, but Aemond didn’t point them out. He came to sit beside you, back against the bricks, and you let your head drop onto his shoulder.

“Your brother is such a dick.”

Aemond sighed in agreement.

The floor of the throne room was cold.

Icy even.

Despite the beams of sun that landed colourfully onto the floor, streaming in through the stained glass windows, the stone would never warm. They would stay the same, icy, coldness that they always had been.

Unforgiving.

And they were just that, unforgiving.

Laid down beneath a tower of melted and twisted metal, made from an unforgiving King. A throne that lacked a soft edge, a show of compassion or kindness, even to those who were seated upon it.

The Iron Throne, for all intents and purposes, was just that.

Unforgiving.

Sharp and cold, made entirely of blades from those who had been conquered, those who had been slain, those who had fallen. And now your family sat atop it. A show of your ancestor, Aegon the First and all of his triumph. All of his power.

All of his mercilessness.

The skin of your cheek felt wet, Lucerys had stopped his whispering, and the world around you was oddly quiet. As though your ears had been stuffed with cotton, the muffled sound of the room around you making it hard to discern what was happening. And yet still, there was this odd feeling that spread around your chest.

Like the stone floors of the Iron Throne chambers, it was cold.

Icy.

They had always been a brilliant violet colour.

Your families legacy paired with the silver locks. And Aegon’s eyes had always been so telling of his moods, just like his brother. Telling of his thoughts, like a window to his inner workings and mechanisms.

It was always so.

They would dance when he was mischievous as a child, and as he got older, they would deepen with unspoken grief and paranoia.

But when Aegon was angry, they would become alight. Seemingly brightened by the flames that would lick him hotly at his cheeks, the colour lightening and eyes having more movement.

It’s how it always was.

And as you looked into Aegon’s eyes, you realised how much they had changed already.

The rage that had been dancing and swaying behind his eyes not a moment before, was now gone. Like a fire that had been snuffed out, a light that had been trampled upon, a lamp that had been extinguished. And now they looked up at you blankly, as you blinked down at them from below.

The noises around you became louder as you continued to stare.

A woman was screaming.

Why was she screaming?

Guards were crying out, men were cursing, and all you could do, was look at the head on the floor in front of your knees, and the blood that slowly leaked from its neck and mouth, seeping into the material of your skirts.

You wished she would stop screaming.

Someone kept saying your name, but you could not tear your eyes from the man below you. His silver waves were tinged with red as the blood spread into his silky strands, his mouth agape, but silent.

Finally silent.

His eyes were what really changed.

They were dull.

Lifeless, and almost grey looking.

Gone.

Aegon’s body was slumped beside it, arms and legs bent at unnatural angles, and blood leaking out onto the cold stones below. The thinner sections of blood had already begun to coagulate, the coldness sucking out any warmth from it and seeping into the porous surface beneath.

Life that spread and was soaked up greedily.

Like so many times before, the stones were fed with the essence of another.

How many more would face the same fate?

The coldness in your chest melted away, and a warmth spread through it, travelling up your throat, until it left your lips in a breathy laugh.

And then it kept coming.

And it did not stop.

You stared at Aegon’s head and laughed.

It was not something that you could have stopped if you had wanted it to, it did not even feel like you were in your own body, looking down from somewhere else in the room, perhaps even over your own shoulder. But the more you laughed, the louder the woman’s screams became, until someone spoke your name again, but louder.

You blinked, finally tearing your eyes away from the corpse of your uncle, the man who had raped you. The man who had driven your aunt to death. The man who had usurped the throne from your mother.

The man who had dealt so much cruelty.

And your eyes were met with, not the dull, lifeless violet that you had once been staring at, but instead a vision of violet and sapphire.

Aemond.

The Prince stood in front of you, looking down with a hard and stony face, jaw clenched and lips pressed into a line. Like his brother, his eye was the window to his soul, and flickering in the background was rage.

His shoulders were stiff, his body was tensed, and yet a hand was held out, steady towards you, palm up, scar revealed. The other was holding his sword tightly, body in a fighting stance, the blade dripping with thick viscous blood.

The blood of his brother.

Movement was all around you, and the woman still would not stop screaming.

Aemond barked at the room, “Hold!”

And the room fell still again.

All but the woman who screamed, and the men who cursed quietly beneath their breath.

You stared at Aemond's hand, the scar on his palm looking soft and pink, travelling up the length of pale skin. And with your own, you lifted and placed it in his, the strength of his arm pulling you to stand.

You knees popped and stung as you stood, the skin rubbed raw by the stone floors, dress ripped in some places. Guards stood dumbly on the side of the room unsure of what to do, all in shock.

Your husband flicked his blade to the side, blood spraying off of it onto the stones.

More food to feed them.

Aemond sheathed it back into its holder on his hip with one hand, the other holding yours firmly.

God you wished she would stop screaming.

Aemond bent down to the corpse of his brother, no regret, or grief on his face, instead a steady blanket of disgust and hatred instead. With his long fingers, he scooped the Conquerors Crown from the stone floor, looking down at it as he turned it slowly in his hand above Aegon.

The metal glinted, and the ruby in its centre glowed when the light shone over of it.

“What have you done?!” The woman screamed again, your head turning to see Alicent being held back by her father and guards, “What have you done?!”

Ser Otto Hightower, stood with nothing but shock in his eyes as he looked between his two grandsons, the one on the floor, and the one standing above him. His arms were wrapped around Alicent’s chest, keeping her pressed against him as she thrashed.

“He was to be our undoing.” Aemond stated bluntly, voice loud within the chambers.

Ser Cole did not move.

The Small Council did not move.

And all that could be heard was the screams of a grieving mother.

“Ser Cole.” Aemond gave the man what appeared to be a silent order.

Cole was a man who had been a father figure to him. A man who had trained him in swordsmanship and battle. A man who he had grown beside and watched support his mother.

And Ser Criston Cole obeyed, staying where he was, and all other guards and knights followed.

Your eyes roamed down his body, to where the white cloak, pinned to the pommels of his armour, soaked the blood of the King on the floor below. It tinged the white a deep red, and bled up the material, as though it had been thirsting for blood this whole time, much like the stones.

Aegon was dead.

And Aemond had killed him.

“What have you done, Aemond?! Your brother! The King!” Alicent cried, voice distressed as she screamed at her only surviving child.

Aemond ignored his mother, turning to you, a singular word falling from his lips.

“Come.”

The throne room was filled with your footfall as Aemond led you towards the Iron throne, Alicent’s cries which had turned to soft sobs, and the whispers of the Small Council.

No-one brave enough to speak up, or out against the Prince.

Aemond walked up the throne steps, as though he was born for it, as though he had practised each step with perfection. Each step taken was with purpose, as though he knew it was his true duty and right.

And you followed after, hand still in his, mind still in a daze.

You stared at the Iron Throne as he turned softly to sit himself upon it.

He looked comfortable.

At home.

Perfectly fitted for it, as though he was made for it.

With a look of determination, he handed you the crown, the heavy metal resting in both of your hands as you look down at it.

Alicent cried louder.

The room was still.

You locked eyes with Aemond’s violet and sapphire gaze.

And lifted the crown to place it atop his head.

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