#she loves her father and mother and sister and they affect her every day

[navysealt4t]

i have never been so validated in my entire life.

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun

Aemond Targaryen x Female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 11.5 K

Warnings: Fluffy, Aemond finally makes a friend, characters will be aged up next chapter, reader is from a made-up house

AN: This is my first time writing for HOTD and I'm excited and terrified to share this story with you. I've had this idea in my head for so long and decided to finally get it out. Hope you enjoy xx

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

~~

He was used to playing for second best.

In his short life he became used to disinterested gazes, murmurs of his supposed cold heart and fits of rage, avoidant steps when he passed, the curse he possessed as the scarred second son. 

But never from her.

She looked at him as though he put the stars in the sky. She looked at him as if he was the reason the sky bloomed with breathtaking colors in the early morning.

He felt himself unworthy of her attention and affection, something she was aware of, and she would hold him and tell him all the love she gave him was very much deserved.

It was a sentiment he always had trouble not disputing instantly. 

She made his miserable heart full. 

Aemond couldn’t believe his luck himself for the sun that entered his world and brightened his life. 

He never believed he was worthy of her love. 

And she spent her entire life trying to prove him wrong.

~~

It was a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day.

A day Aemond was dreading. 

It wasn’t often their family made trips away from King’s Landing. His father was King and most visitors made the effort to come to the Capitol and spare them the effort of a visit, but a sudden trip had their entire family uproot their usual routine and he found himself hating every moment of it. 

Being dragonless, he was left to endure the crashing waves of the sea that made his stomach turn. 

“This place is disgusting.” Aegon said the moment they landed on solid ground. 

“Aegon.” His mother admonished with a steady glare. “The Ixtal Islands are a beautiful place and they’re home to one of the most powerful houses in the seven kingdoms. You would do well to show them some respect.”

“Not like they’ll offer me anything of importance.” He muttered bitterly. Rumors had spread of his mother and father’s desire to wed him to his sister Heleana, his future already planned for him.

His mood was immediately soured at the realization that none of the beauties he saw on the Island shore were his intended, but that wouldn’t stop him from having his fun. 

“Why are we even here?” Aegon whined immaturely, making his mother suppress yet another eye roll in response.

“The Lord of Ixtal is an old friend of your father.”

“I still don’t understand why that demands my presence here.” Aegon rolled his eyes.

“Our council is in need of a new Master of Coin and your father is considering his dear friend. We are here for negotiations and our family is nothing if not loyal. Your father, our King, needs us.” Alicent answered shortly. 

Aemond was excited to finally see the Island he had read so much about. He knew their history, their riches and goods they traded with the entirety of the realm. The Ixtal Islands were the most plentiful and prosperous house in the realm and he was in awe to see his readings come to life before him.

It was the socialization he dreaded. 

Nobles would look at Aegon with respect, respect he didn’t deserve even being the first born son of the King. Helaena would be regarded with reverence, a comparison to the Realm’s Delight. 

But he was nothing more than a second son, easily brushed over.

Daeron was still just a babe, too young to understand the slight they possessed not having been born first, but Aemond understood all too well. 

Their family was escorted into a grand throne room and Aemond was in awe of the intricate ornaments that decorated the hall and he briefly wondered why King’s Landing was where the most powerful man in the realm sat when this place existed.

His wide eyes eagerly took in every sight in front of him, admiring how the vast forest behind the castle casted a mystical green glow on the room from the giant window sitting behind the intricate gold throne. 

“Viserys!” A cheerful voice called and for the first time in a long time, Aemond heard his father laugh, a genuinely delighted sound as he embraced his friend.

Aegon shared a brief look with him, his shock at hearing his father's laughter clear in the way he furrowed his brows in bitterness.

“It’s been too long, my friend.” 

“Alicent, always a delight to see you, my dear.” 

Aemond noted the blush on his mother’s cheeks as the charming lord embraced her. He shifted on his feet as his siblings were introduced. He knew what came next, the flippant dismissal was familiar yet it stung each time. 

He looked up as the Lord shook hands with Aegon and gave Helaena a polite nod, her body language giving him the signal she wasn’t comfortable with anything else. 

As he stepped in front of Aemond, he suddenly felt two feet tall under the man’s gaze. Until he smiled. It was a gesture filled with warmth he hadn’t been expecting.

“Aemond, a strong name for a strong lad.” The lord clapped his shoulder and Aemond felt his body straighten, his confidence reappearing the second he realized he wasn’t going to be passed over yet again.

He looked up at the Lord with a smile, feeling more respected by the stranger in front of him than he ever had from his own father.

“You remember my wife,” The Lord gestured to a finely dressed woman who smiled and bowed to them courteously. 

“My son and-” The lord stopped abruptly, suddenly noticing the absence of the person who was supposed to be next in line and looked to his wife who was already wincing, having expected the abrupt drop in conversation due to their eldest daughter’s absence.

“My apologies, my daughter has lived here all her life yet still feels the need to explore.” The Lady of Ixtal explained, the lack of anger in her voice that gave way to begrudging acceptance made it obvious this was a common occurrence.

Viserys laughed and looked at his friend. 

“You could not possibly think your children would give you any trouble, would you?” He chided sarcastically to the Lord who could only laugh in delight at his beloved daughter’s antics. 

Aemond watched the interaction with wide eyes, intrigued by the sense of ease that surrounded everything. 

If they were in King’s Landing and he was late to an event, his mother would have his hyde.

Suddenly, the great doors slammed open and an armored knight was seen running into the room, his hand latched onto someone small who was giggling in delight.

“My Lord, My Lady, I am so sorry, she wanted-”

“It’s quite alright, Ser Jerrod. I know my daughter could not have made it easy for you.” The Lord dismissed the unnecessary apology and smiled down at his daughter who smiled somewhat sheepishly as she passed by to take her place in line. 

She smoothed her hands down the front of her silk dress and stood straighter, putting on the air of the perfect and primed daughter, as if they hadn’t all just seen her enter in a tizzy five minutes late.

Her mother looked down at her and leaned over her brother’s shoulder to pluck a leaf from her disheveled hair. Her eyes widened slightly, fearing retribution for her antics, but her mother only raised a teasing brow, silently admonishing her. 

The girl brushed her messy hair off her shoulder and finally moved her gaze to their guests, a smile coming to her face as she met the eyes of the silver haired boy in front of her.

Aemond was rooted to his spot, his expression one of perplexed confusion. The smile she sent him, the gesture which was so simple - and usually faked by most at court - was blinding. 

He was taken aback by the fact that she hadn’t looked at the powerful presence that was the King or the Queen faithfully at his side. She hadn’t looked at Aegon, Daeron or even Helaena, the only girl close to her age in the room. 

She looked at him first. 

She smiled at him first.

It was a gesture that wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, but to him, it meant everything, it lifted the veil of neglect he was so familiar with from his shoulders, leaving him to feel lighter than before.

He listened as the Lord introduced his daughter and he ran her name over and over in his head, feeling his cheeks heat, a blush easily coming to his face as she greeted everyone, but her stare came back to him, smiling shyly.

~~

“This place is beautiful.” Helaena spoke dreamily as she took in their surroundings. 

They were granted leave to look around while the servants prepared to set up the welcome feast. 

Aemond couldn't take his eyes off the white sand and the crystal blue water. He breathed deeply, relieved to smell nothing but fresh flowers and ocean water and not the filth that permeated King’s Landing.

“Father should take over this place.” Aegon mused, earning looks of disdain from his siblings, which he easily shrugged off. “What? It’s much better than our shithole of a home.” 

Aemond rolled his eyes at his brother’s crass nature and kept walking, praying Aegon would somehow get lost or at least get bored of his company and leave. 

The sound of a loud laugh caught all of their attention and they walked their way through the lavish gardens to find it. Aemond suddenly became nervous as he saw the children of the Lord and Lady of Ixtal. 

The oldest son was playing some sort of ball game with his younger brother. The youngest sibling was reading quietly with her Septa. But the eldest daughter was nowhere to be found. 

As they stepped forward, the youngest son straightened and nudged his brother to stop. Catching sight of the young Targaryen princes and princess they let the ball they were playing with drop to the ground as they bowed respectfully. 

“Hello.” Helaena spoke brightly and the two young boys were helpless against her sweet nature and they both smiled and greeted her warmly.

“Where’s the other one?” Aegon asked rudely, looking around for the pretty girl from earlier who was missing. 

Aemond grit his teeth, praying Aegon wouldn’t drive her away before he even had the chance to speak to her.

“She’s in her tree.”

“Her tree?” 

The oldest brother pointed to the enormous willow tree behind them. 

He called out to his sister, alerting her to the presence of the royal children and just seconds later, Aemond watched with a slowly growing smile as a lithe form began to descend the ancient tree. 

She was slightly out of breath as she jumped the last few feet to the ground, brushing her already tangled hair out of her face as she practically skipped towards them.

As if her Septa’s teachings and her mother’s scolding from that morning had finally caught up to her, the smile on her face fell slightly, remembering she was in the presence of royalty. She slowed her pace and curtsied slightly clumsily as she came before them. 

“It is lovely to see you all again. I hope you are enjoying Ixtal.”

Aemond felt his face heat with a deep blush at the sound of her voice, the slight accent he heard capturing him instantly and he wished nothing more than to take the book from her young sister’s hands and demand she read it to him just so he could continue to hear the beautiful sound of her voice. 

“Your home is lovely. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Helaena spoke, breaking him from his thoughts. She moved towards the girl, the two of them engaging in easy conversation. 

Aegon began speaking with the two brothers, learning the rules to the ball game they were playing, the young boys instantly getting along. Which left Aemond to stand by himself. 

He shifted on his feet anxiously, contemplating if he should leave and find his mother. He’d at least have someone to talk to then. The pit in his stomach that grew as the familiar feeling of loneliness settled over him broke abruptly at the sound of the beautiful voice again.

“Would you like to sit?”

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers and for a moment, he wondered if she had actually been speaking to him. His gaze found Helaena who was now kneeling to talk to the youngest of the children who was mesmerized by her lavish dress.

Which left the oldest daughter alone and her gaze on him. 

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and stepped forward slowly, his heart racing as he took a seat on the bench next to her. 

“What are you writing?” He asked after clearing his throat, wincing to himself at the nerves that lingered in his words. 

“Drawing actually.” She corrected. “And not very well by the looks of it.” She shifted closer to him to show him the sketches in her notebook, the scent of lavender invading every one of his senses as her shoulder brushed against his.

His eyes looked over the shaky drawings of flowers and the willow tree she had been sitting in just moments ago. 

“They’re beautiful.”

She smiled and the sight was enough to leave Aemond thankful that he was sitting. 

“Do you draw?”

“No, nowhere near as well as you.”

“You must be shit then because these are awful.”

Aemond choked on his breath at her words, his wide eyes looking over at her in shock. She had a carelessness to her that he thought he would’ve found arrogant, it was certainly how he felt about the other ladies at court who were so brazen before him. 

But he found he could only feel enamored by the girl beside him. 

A quiet laugh escaped him, his stomach flipping in ways he had never felt before. 

“They’re not so bad.” He spoke quietly, his nerves reverting him to his bashful nature. 

“You’re quite the flatterer, Aemond.”

No words came to him, he was left to stare back at her, completely taken aback by her easy nature and blinding smile. 

She continued to show him her other sketches, the conversation between them flowing easily, something that Aemond had never experienced. 

Later, as their guards escorted them away to prepare for the feast, Aemond’s ears rang with the sound of her laughter, leaving him to hope he would hear it again before he had to leave. 

He spent the night with a smile on his face, behaving more animatedly than he had in all his life. Alicent had looked at her second son with barely contained emotion, delighted to see him so at ease. 

She was so caught up in her emotions, she hadn’t even noticed how his eyes never strayed too far from the eldest daughter of Ixtal. 

~~

The mischievous island girl was known to walk around the halls of the castle at all hours. It had happened so often for so long the guards didn’t bother to stop her anymore and no one batted an eye when they saw her wandering. 

She made her way to her parents chamber hours after she had been put to bed. 

She couldn’t stop the thought in her head and she had to see it through. 

With a smile to the guard at her parent’s door, she strolled in as if it were her own chamber. Her parents looked startled for all of a second before they sighed in resignation. 

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Darling?”

“I was.” 

Her father huffed out a laugh. “So what brings you here, Troublemaker?”

She let out a breath, her shoulders straightening, as if portraying herself as proper would help her cause. 

“I want to go with you to King’s Landing.”

Her request did not go over as easily as she wished, she spent the next hour arguing with her parents, pleading her case. She may have overstated how much her decision to learn more about court, but her parents did not need to know her desire lay purely with her need to explore what the Capitol could offer. 

Her parents knew she loved to explore and the chance to see a new part of the realm was too tempting to not indulge her in. Her parents loved her more than anything, they loved and doted on all their children in ways that left Lords and Ladies from other houses to scoff and roll their eyes in disdain. 

They couldn’t say no to her. 

By the next morning, she stood at her father’s side as their ship sailed to King’s Landing, her arm linked through his, her head filled with the wonders of what this new place would have to offer. 

A smile grew on her lips as she pictured the shy boy who had complimented her drawings and her excitement began to grow. 

~~

She was more reserved than she had ever been as she sat beside the table of royals. King Viserys had planned an extravagant welcome feast for the Lord of Ixtal, his new Master of Coin and his daughter to welcome them to King’s Landing. 

She had never experienced so many Lords and Ladies approaching her before, giving her their hand to shake and curtsey before them in greeting. It felt as though she had never truly existed until she made it to the Capitol, where the matters of the court actually held weight and prospect.

Her father had regaled many a knight and Lord over the course of the night, leaving her by his side to sit quietly, the overlooked daughter. She knew the power her house held, she knew the reason most Lords gave their good fortune to her father was to ensure their trade routes would continue prosperously. She knew she was nothing more than fodder at her father’s side.

She picked at her food unhappily, contemplating her decision to venture so far from her home, so far from what was comfortable. Her eyes rose from her plate, surveying the large throne room before her, catching sight of her father in talks with a large group of Lords from around the realm. 

With a heavy sigh, knowing she couldn’t interrupt her father, her eyes moved to the head table where the Targaryen family sat. 

The head seat where the King sat was empty, he was busy at her father’s side. She let her eyes roam over the queen, taking in her quiet servitude and demure presence. Her gaze fell to the heir, Princess Rhaenyra sat with her husband Laenor Valaryon, her brows quickly rising at the sight of the brown haired children sat beside the silver-headed wedded pair. 

Her eyes fell to Queen Alicent’s children, a small smile growing as she caught the gaze of Princess Helaena, the quiet girl sparing her a wave to which she eagerly reciprocated. 

She was never one to fade into the background and she eagerly took the Princess’ gesture as a sign of goodwill, standing from her seat to make her way to the head table. 

Helaena beamed at the girl as she approached, oblivious to her elder brother’s lustful intrigue and her younger brother who sat up straighter as the girl approached. 

“Hello, my Lady, I hope King’s Landing is treating you well.” Helaena greeted the girl happily. 

“It is lovely, Princess. I am sincerely grateful to your father for allowing myself and my father to reside in your home.”

“We are delighted to have you.” Helaena assured her. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment, her face turning bashful for a moment. “The ladies of the court will be gathering tomorrow, you should join.”

“I’d love to.” She responded eagerly, relieved to know her newfound solitude would not be long held. 

“You should join us for breakfast as well. I can show you my collection.” Helaena added excitedly. 

“By the Gods, Helaena.” Aegon groaned beside her. 

“Collection?” She asked, staunchly ignoring the prince sitting next to the blushing princess.

“My insects. I’ve collected quite a beautiful group of them. I’d love to show you.”

Helaena had a lovely innocence to her she was powerless against. 

“I’d be delighted to see them.” She told the princess sincerely, hoping she had found a friend in the eccentric girl. “I’ve also heard wonderful things about your library. I’m eager to read the works about Valryian history and the Targaryen dynasty. There are only rumors where I come from.”

Aemond sat forward in his seat, his eagerness to interject himself finally coming to a head.

“I can show you to the library.” Aemond offered, finally making his presence known. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to take you from your duties.”

“You won’t.” He insisted, positive his face was blooming with a pink blush as her attention now lay on him. “There are many books that have not been translated, I would be happy to read them to you.”

He seemed to melt under her gaze that watched him curiously. 

“You would do that?”

“Of course.” He insisted.

“That would be wonderful.” 

He was thankful he was sitting because her smile would have knocked him off his feet. 

By the next morning, as soon as the sun rose, he was sitting in the library, anxiously anticipating her arrival. He didn’t have to wait long until the door creaked open and her eager eyes took in the vast shelves around her. 

She greeted him with happiness as if they were long time friends, causing his stomach to flutter in ways he had never felt before. 

“This is incredible.” She mused, eyeing the many books she had to indulge in.

They spent the afternoon together, her at his side as he read the Valryian texts of their history, stopping every few minutes to answer the many intrigued questions she had. 

Aemond was sure his face was on fire, he had never blushed so hard. No one had ever taken such an interest in him, no one had ever paid so much attention to him, no one had ever bothered to listen to him.

But here she was, this girl at his side, eager to know more, asking question after question, trusting him to give her the answer. As soon as he began to fear he had spoken too much, taken too much of her time she’d drawl out ‘tell me more’ or ‘what happened next’ and he was rooted to his seat, turning to the next page as he explained the history of the Targaryen dynasty to her eager ears. 

He had never felt so important. 

~~

King’s Landing proved to be just as wondrous as she dreamed it. Granted, it didn’t have the luxurious beaches or sprawling forests her home did, but she was just thrilled to be exploring a new corner of the world.

Aemond had quickly become her closest ally. He had taken to showing her every inch of the place he thought she would enjoy, dragging her along to the mazes of gardens, the weirwood tree, the luxurious Sept, but her favorite had to be the library. She had spent many late nights with Aemond at her side, perusing through the many ancient works of Valyrian history. 

It fascinated her, but she couldn’t deny she loved to hear Aemond’s voice as he read to her, enthralled with stories of Aegon the Conqueror and his two sister-wives, stories of ancient dragons and their riders, of wars long passed.

A week into their stay, as she broke her fast with her father, she was practically bouncing in her seat, shoveling her food into her mouth as quickly as she could, eager to get the meal over with so she could meet with Aemond and Helaena, the two of them quickly becoming her closest confidants.  

“Slow down, my love, you’re going to choke.” Her father warned with a chuckle at her enthusiasm. 

“Sorry.” She mumbled through the food in her mouth, causing her father to grimace at her very unlady-like behavior. 

“Your eagerness wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Targaryen, would it?” He asked slowly, his knowing smile teasing her clear affection for the young boy she was growing closer to each day. 

“Helaena and I are good friends.” She shrugged, effectively dodging her father’s prying. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, watching her thoughtfully. He had no idea where she had gained such a witty mouth, it certainly wasn’t from him or his sweet, quiet wife. 

She finished the rest of her breakfast at record speed and hopped out of her seat, pressing a quick kiss to her father’s cheek.

“I’ll see you at dinner!” She called out over her shoulder as she skipped to the door. 

“Be safe!” He called out, but she was already racing down the halls. He looked to the guard at the door pointedly who nodded and trailed after the rambunctious girl. 

She slowed her pace once she reached the courtyard, suddenly very aware of the many eyes that would be on her if she was caught sprinting through the halls. She spotted a head of silver hair by the gates and she beamed, throwing all care out the window as she began to jog towards him.

“Aemond!” She called out and watched as the boy turned to her, his own smile growing at the sight of her. 

“Took you long enough.” He jested playfully and reveled in the dramatic scowl she sent him. 

“I’m not late. You are just an insane man that voluntarily wakes with the sun.” 

It was so small, something so miniscule, but it still managed to make his heart race. Knowing she remembered a small detail about him, no matter if it was something that was so inconsequential, was something he couldn’t wrap his head around.

He hadn’t expected it to affect him the way it did.

~~~

She found herself with Helaena in the gardens, finding any bugs she could for the enigmatic

princess. Digging a jittery bug out of the dirt, her nose scrunched in distaste as the many legged creature crawled over her hand.

“What is this thing?”

Helaena peered over curiously and a wide smile beamed on her face.

“That’s a beetle.”

“They’re not poisonous, are they?”

The princess laughed in amusement at the widened eyes that met her gaze and she shook her head. “No, you’re safe.”

The girl nodded and, though still on edge, was less stressed as she held the bug in her hands. 

Helaena, preoccupied with her own bugs, stole frequent looks at the girl next to her, noting the unease in her eyes. She smiled lightly and leaned in close to her.

“You don’t have to do this with me. I know not everyone likes the things I like. I can do this by myself.”

The girl looked startled by her words, a frown growing on her usually bright features and she looked down at the bug in her hands again, her eyes shifting from a look of disgust to one of determination, as if she could force herself to not feel grossed out at their existence.

“I like being here with you.” She said softly. “I don’t really have anyone else here.”

Helaena frowned, the thought of her brother immediately coming to mind and the smile that would grace his usually sullen face every time he was with the Island girl. As if she had conjured him herself, she looked over her shoulder, noticing him coming their way.

“Hello, Brother.” She smiled, though it was futile as his attention was locked onto the beauty beside her.

“Hello.” He spoke, though his eyes never left his sister’s friend. “What are you doing?”

“Finding bugs. Would you like to join?”

Helaena, having expected a ‘no’, given it was always Aemond’s answer anytime she asked him for help digging through the gardens, was shocked as he took a seat among them and dug his hands in the dirt before them without question.

The Princess watched with barely contained delight as her brother and friend immediately started conversing as if she weren’t there, the comfortable ease between them thriving. 

Usually she would feel slighted by such an occurrence, but rather than feeling ignored, she was happy to see her brother, who was usually so serious, look completely unburdened. She worried about him, about how tightly wound he was, but since the Lord of Ixtal and his daughter had come to King’s Landing, she had noticed his demeanor change, as if he could finally take a deep breath and release the things that so often held him down.

Aemond looked at the dirt beneath his fingernails and mourned at what his night routine would be subjected to, but he found he didn’t care all that much. The stolen glances to the girl beside him had all sense of propriety out the window. 

“Do you do this every day, Princess?” She asked the Targaryen who shrugged shyly.

“Most days. I find I prefer the company of bugs over people.”

The bark of laughter that left her had both the siblings smiling, her joyful nature contagious. 

Aemond was transfixed, until he heard his name and he was forced out of his daydreams. He looked up at Aegon who was standing before them, judgment painting his features.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re digging for bugs, Brother.” Helaena answered innocently, her eyes thankfully locked onto the caterpillar on her finger so she didn’t see how her brother rolled his eyes in disdain.

Aemond glowered at his brother, his mood dampened, his protectiveness for his sister rising involuntarily whenever he was around. He hated seeing Helaena’s eyes dim with every one of his hurtful words.

The Island girl looked between the siblings, beginning to understand just how different they were to her and her own siblings. The more time she spent with Aegon, the more she disliked him. She looked back at Aemond and frowned, noticing the dower expression grow on her friend’s face, and she called his name. 

“Hmm?”

“What are these?” She asked, her dirt covered fingers trailing over the petals of the flowers in front of them, diverting his attention from Aegon.

“Marigolds.” He answered quickly, as if he wanted her to be impressed by his knowledge. “You don’t have these in Ixtal?”

“No. It’s a shame, they’re beautiful.”

Aemond bit his lip, his heart racing as she moved back to digging for bugs. He ignored the nerves that coursed through him and reached out to pluck the flower. 

“Here.”

She looked up and her eyes widened, her cheeks burning as he tucked the flower behind her ear, his shy smile mirroring hers, his hesitance clear, but his bravery clearer.

Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes at the pair. 

The noise caused them both to glare at the older Targaryen, their eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

“You two are pathetic.”

“It’s not our fault your pea sized brain cannot comprehend the idea of caring for someone other than yourself.” She snarked easily, making Aemond’s eyes widen as he nervously looked between her and his brother whose face twisted in anger.

Thankfully, his brother was smart enough to know not to start a fight with her and he stomped away, most likely in search of more wine.

“You shouldn��t do that.” Aemond mumbled, his worried eyes lingering on his brother’s figure as he stormed off.

“Do what?”

“Antagonize him.” 

“Someone needs to knock him off his high horse. Why can’t it be me?” She shrugged, perfectly content to be the antagonist in Aegon Targaryen’s life.

“Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why would anything happen to me?”

“Because… he’s… it’s Aegon.” He stressed, as if his brother’s existence was enough explanation.

“Yes, and he’s an absolute cock.”

Aemond’s eyes widened, not expecting the vulgar word to leave her lips. Helaena giggled and leaned into the girl at her side. His shoulders slumped and he allowed himself to laugh, amazed yet not surprised at her ability to evade him of his worries. 

~~

A body crashed into her as she turned the corner, almost knocking her off balance, but arms that quickly wrapped around her waist stopped her from falling to the floor. 

She recognized the boy immediately. 

“Aemond.” She greeted breathlessly with a smile. He pulled away from her instantly, taking a step back to create space between them, his head bowed downwards, avoiding her gaze. 

But she saw the tear streaks through the stains of ash on his cheeks. Her smile fell and she stepped towards him, her hands gently lifting his chin, though he vehemently refused and harshly pulled himself away from her. 

“What happened?” She asked, trying to keep the hurt from her voice at his avoidance, something she had never experienced from him.

“Nothing.”

“Aemond.” She admonished gently. She hated when he acted like this, so unlike the kind boy she knew. 

He kept his head down and she sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what happened.” 

Aemond huffed and side stepped around her to continue on his way to lock himself in his chambers and wallow, but she was too quick. She grabbed his hand to stop him and pulled him back towards her. 

He spoke her name, the groaned pronunciation indicating he wasn’t in the mood. 

“I just want to go to my chambers.”

“Fine. We can go together.” She said simply and linked her arm through his as they began to walk.

Aemond let out a long breath, his annoyance flaring for a second, but the moment he looked over at her it faded away into nothing. He brought his arm that was linked with hers closer to his chest, as if needing her touch to soothe his nerves. 

He thought he wanted to be alone. After his mother had brushed off his tears and scolded him yet again for venturing through the dragon pit, he just wanted to wallow by himself, but with her arm in his, her steady presence at his side, he found he wanted nothing but to be with her.

Once they made it to his chambers, he reluctantly let go of her and practically slumped his way to sit on his bed, his head bowed down to his feet, his brother and nephews' latest prank ruminating in his head, causing shame and anger to cascade over every inch of him. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened now or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

Aemond huffed at her words and began to fidget with his fingers, focusing on the sand that lingered on his skin rather than meeting her inquisitive gaze. 

She rolled her eyes and moved to sit next to him on the bed, brushing the sand from his hair. 

“Were you in the dragon pit again?”

He nodded wordlessly and she felt something inside her clench. She would never understand the hole in Aemond’s heart, how his lack of a dragon made him feel so worthless. 

“They said they found a dragon for me.” He mumbled, causing her to look over at him with concern, her stomach sinking at the hurt she heard in his voice, knowing his dreams hadn’t come true that afternoon. 

She knew it could only be a cruel prank at his expense. 

“They gave me a pig.”

Her shoulders slumped, her hand reaching out to grab his, intertwining their fingers with an ease as though she had done it a million times before. She had only held his hand a few times and it made Aemond blush bright red every time, even now as he wallowed. 

“I’m sorry. They shouldn’t be so cruel to you.”

“They’re right. It’s pathetic, a Targaryen without a dragon.”

“Aemond-”

“Maybe I’m not worthy and I’ll never get a dragon, maybe that’s why my egg never hatched. I don’t deserve it.”

“Stop it.” She spoke sternly, gripping onto both his hands in an effort to calm him down from his ranting. “You are every bit as good as any one of them, dragon or no dragon.”

Aemond sighed shakily and moved his gaze back down to his shoes, feeling as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“What if I never find one?” He asked quietly, as if afraid to speak the possibility out into existence. 

“You will. I know you will.” She assured him, though it did little to release him from his sadness. “There are plenty of Targaryens that didn’t claim dragons until later in life.”

Aemond gave her a plain look, to which she just smirked. Serves him right for teaching her about his family history. 

“Aemond, we’re young, we still have so much life to live. It’s not over because you don’t have a dragon yet. You have so much time to find what you’ve always wanted.”

The breath that escaped his lips left him feeling lighter, his hand finally gripping hers back, sending a bashful smile her way, hoping it was enough to convey how grateful he was for her. 

He didn’t think he could ever find the words to tell her. 

“You’d be with me, won’t you? For my first ride?”

“You would want me there?”

“Of course I would.” 

She smiled and he was powerless but to return his own. “Then I’ll be there.”

~~

Aemond’s glare was steady on his face, his eyes locked onto the Strong bastard that twirled her around. 

How dare he ask her to dance, how dare he touch her, how dare he make her smile.

His disdain for his nephews was clear, they certainly didn’t give him much reason to be cordial, but this was the last straw. Seeing Jacaerys’ hands on her made his blood boil. 

Those damned nephews of his had already stolen her away from his side that afternoon. He could only watch helplessly as she played around with the bastards and spoke politely to his half sister Rhaenyra. 

He almost resented how sweet his friend was. He loved her kind heart, he just hated when it extended to his elder half sister and her sons who he despised. 

He hated when Jacaerys and Lucerys stole her away from his side. It was happening more and more as they became closer. He felt like he was losing her, the more times she spent breaking her fast with his eldest sister and her brood, the more he dreaded every moment away from her. 

She was his only friend, the only one he felt truly understood him, or at least made the effort to. Losing her would mean losing the only shred of happiness he’d managed to find for himself. 

He averted his gaze from Jace and the Ixtal girl, the sight of both their bright smiles becoming too painful.

“They seem to get along well.” His father mused, prompting Aemond to torturously follow his gaze to the pair yet again. 

His heart began to race at the insinuation, at the knowing look in his father’s twinkling eyes. 

“Yes, he seems to be quite taken with her.” Rhaenyra noted with a loving smile. 

“They’d make a fine match.” His mother added. Aemond looked to his mother, betrayal in his gaze. His mother knew how much his friend meant to him, she knew someone so precious shouldn’t be shackled to a bastard. 

He refused to hear another word. His chair screeched loudly against the floor as he abruptly stood and made his way out of the room as if there were no air left for him to breathe. They couldn’t take her away from him, they couldn’t give her to that bastard. 

He raced to his chambers, hoping he was quick enough that no passing guards could see the tears forming in his eyes. 

By the next day, he found himself in the gardens, his eyes locked onto the open book in his lap as he read and re-read the same sentence over and over, his racing mind not allowing him to focus on the words in front of him. 

The dread he had been feeling since the night before had not dissipated in the slightest.

“Aemond!” 

His heart leapt within his chest at the sound of her voice. His hopeful eyes looked around the garden before landing on her and a feeling of lead settled within him, bringing him right back down to his dour mood as he noticed Jace and Lucerys beside her. 

She motioned for him to join but he just shook his head softly and moved his gaze back down to his book. 

He let out a long breath, trying his hardest to ignore the bitterness that grew in his heart, one that was all too familiar from before he met her. He startled slightly as a body slumped next to him. He looked up and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of her looking at him questioningly.

“Why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

She breathed deeply, as if disappointed by his obvious lie. “Why didn’t you join us?”

He shrugged, he couldn’t very well tell her the truth about how he despised his nephews and seeing her with them was like a dagger to the heart, how he feared losing her, his greatest friend. 

“I didn’t want to intrude.” He spoke softly. 

Her eyes narrowed at his words, her gaze moving to the two Velaryon boys who were talking quietly amongst each other, their curious eyes occasionally drifting to her and Aemond. 

She knew there was tension among them, the way they seemed to side with Aegon and play along in the cruel pranks he would play on Aemond always made her stomach twist. She suddenly felt guilty that she had never considered how it would make Aemond feel to be forced in their vicinity after how they treated him. 

She turned to her friend and shuffled closer to him. 

“You could never intrude.”

Aemond looked over at her, but quickly averted his gaze, finding it just too much to look in her eyes while she sat so close to him. 

“You don’t have to stay with me. If you want to be with them, I won’t stop you.” He spoke quietly. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel smothered by him. 

“I’d rather be with you.”

Her answer left him using all of his willpower to keep himself from marching directly to his father and demanding a betrothal this instant. 

She chose him. 

No one had ever chosen him.

~~

She was bored out of her mind. With Aemond and Helaena gone to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral, she was left without her closest confidants, leaving her little to do in their absence. She wished she’d been granted leave to attend the funeral with them, but her father had never met Laena and had been tasked with extra duties while the King was gone, leaving her to stew in her loneliness.

She was curled up on the settee by her bed, her sketchbook in her lap as she scrawled out an attempt at drawing Dreamfyre, to horrible failure. 

A soft knock on her door made her lift her head and she sat up straighter when her father entered. The look on his face made her stomach twist, dread falling upon her like a crashing wave. 

She got to her feet quickly, feeling unsteady on her now weak legs.

“Darling, there was an… incident on Driftmark.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart racing. “What happened?”

“I wasn’t privy to all the details but all I know is that Aemond has been injured.” 

The breath was knocked out of her and at the first sign of her face crumbling into despair, her father crossed the room and held her tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as the first sob broke free. 

“Is he alright?”

Her father let out a long breath at her hiccuped words, holding her tightly. He knew his daughter had certain affections for the young boy, but hearing her now made him realize just how deeply she cared for him. 

“The Maesters say he has lost an eye.” 

A shuddering breath escaped her and she suddenly felt faint. She had no idea how, what could have unfolded, who would dare to do something so barbaric to him. 

The next days were spent in agony. She barely left her chambers. Every time her father came to check in on her, he found her sitting by her window, her gaze locked onto the horizon, waiting eagerly for the Targaryen family’s arrival. 

On the third day of her lonely torment, she finally spotted it. Dragons on the horizon. She was on her feet in a second and racing down to the courtyard. She was out of breath and disheveled by the time she made it, but her pace only quickened when she saw Helaena with her mother. 

She called out to her friend and Helaena let out a breath of relief when she saw her, her arms opening for her as she approached. 

Helaena didn’t let many touch her, but she was one of the lucky few she allowed. 

“Are you alright? Where’s Aemond? Will he be ok?” She fired off questions, not even able to get a breath out through her frantic words. 

“It’s alright, my Darling. Aemond will be fine.” Alicent consoled her, placing her arm around the shaking girl’s shoulders.

“Where is he?”

“He’s been taken to the Maester’s solar. He’ll have to spend some time there while he heals.” 

“What happened?” She asked breathlessly.

“What I told him.” Helaena interjected calmly. “He gained a dragon, but he had to close an eye.” 

She looked at Helaena with shock. “He… he claimed a dragon?”

She couldn’t make sense of the despair, relief and joy she had felt all at once. Knowing Aemond and his endless plight to gain a dragon, she knew he would see it a worthy trade, but the thought of him injured, permanently maimed, made her want to crumble to the ground below her. 

After bidding goodbye to Alicent and Helaena, she made her way to the Maester’s wing of the Keep. She was denied entry, but she was determined to not let it stop her. Each day, at the crack of dawn, she’d drag herself out of bed and, before even breaking her fast, would make the trek to the Maester’s wing and ask to see Aemond.

She was refused each and every day, but it did little to deter her. She kept trying. 

It had been weeks since she had seen Aemond. Her heart was aching without the presence of her best friend, without the boy that made her smile like no other could. 

On the fifth day of the third week, as she made the familiar walk to his door, the guard stopped her, as usual, though his words were different.

“The Prince does not wish for any visitors.” 

She frowned. It always used to be the order of the Maesters or Alicent, claiming her son needed his rest, but now it was Aemond himself refusing her. 

She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but she knew she had felt her heart crack in a way she had never felt before. 

She walked away from the door with her head bowed in defeat.

The hurt she felt mirrored Aemond’s own. Refusing her made him ache, but the thought of her seeing him as he was and looking at him with disgust was unfathomable and he would delay that inevitable despair as long as he could. 

He sulked in his bed, the dour expression on his face one that had been constant for weeks. 

His mother was by his bedside as she had been for weeks. He couldn’t stand to see her wince or her teary eyes everytime she looked at his ghastly scar. 

She had been trying, in no subtle terms, to get him out of the room, even going as far to bring up his friend, the one he longed to see yet dreaded ever seeing the same look on his mother’s face on hers. 

“It’s been a few weeks. She’s been worrying herself sick.” His mother told him, making his already weak heart more fragile. 

He stayed silent, his frown deepening in despair. 

“Aegon and Helaena will be heading out tomorrow to Ixtal. You should take Vhagar and join them.”

Aemond shifted uncomfortably. He knew his friend was leaving tomorrow, to visit home for her mother’s name day. They had all been invited, but with his father’s fading health and his mother’s refusal to ride on dragonback, it left just Aegon and Helaena to join the festivities. 

“Aemond.” His mother prompted again, the disappointment in her voice clear. 

“I don’t want to go.” He mumbled, one of the few sentences he’d managed over the past few weeks. 

His mother sighed in defeat and didn’t bring it up again for the rest of the night, leaving him to his solitude as he preferred. 

The next morning, Aemond lay in bed, the wound over his eye itching gratingly. He longed to claw at the wicked scar, to scream in anger, to enact his vengeance on that Strong bastard. The fury festered in him like the open wound on his face, red and flaming. 

The soft sound of his door opening and closing made him stir, assuming it was his mother yet again. As he lazily turned his head, dread settled in his stomach, his remaining eye widening in horror at the sight of her, the one he longed for yet resisted. 

She froze in her place at the door, her jaw falling slack, a shaking hand covering her mouth as a hitched breath escaped her at the sight of him. 

Aemond’s face twisted in agony. This was exactly what he wished to avoid. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked angrily, tears forming in his remaining eye. 

“I just wanted- I wanted… we’re leaving soon.” 

It was faint but he heard it. Fear. The stuttering of her words, the quiet, almost docile way she spoke that was so unlike her was like a hatchet to his heart. The look on her face was even worse. She could barely make eye contact with him.

“Get out.” He spoke lowly through gritted teeth.

“Aemond, I-”

“Get out! I don’t want you here!” He screamed at her, tears steadily falling down his cheeks. 

Her own tears began to fall, her face twisting with agony. He hated it. He didn’t want her pity, he didn’t want to see the disgust on her face that everyone would face him with for the rest of his life. 

“Leave me alone! I never want to see you again!” 

She let out a sob and turned on her heel, leaving the room with haste. 

Aemond slumped back in bed, placing his hands over his face, ignoring the way it made his eye ache, and he cried for what he had lost. 

Not just his eye, but his love, his happiness. His everything. 

~~

She stood on the balcony of the banquet hall, breathing in the fresh ocean air. She missed home. She had thought of this moment for weeks, had been eager and excited to finally visit, yet now that she was there, it was bittersweet. 

The sound of the waves weren’t as peaceful as she remembered. The food she ate wasn’t as delicious as she remembered. The music and the dancing wasn’t as exciting as she remembered. 

“Darling?”

She turned to see her mother approaching, concern written across her face as she moved to stand next to her daughter, her arm crossing over her shoulders, bringing her in close to her side. 

“Are you alright? I thought I’d see you dancing all night.”

“I’m fine.”

The Lady of Ixtal looked to her once vibrant daughter worriedly. She was far from the girl that had left all those months ago. From all the letters she had sent, it seemed her daughter was having the time of her life in King’s Landing. The girl she saw now wasn’t the one who had gleaned nothing but happiness.

“Was it not what you expected?”

She stiffened, the need to defend her friends and her new found home rising. “No, it’s- King’s Landing is lovely.”

Her mother sighed. She had gotten a short re-telling of the last few weeks in the Capitol from her husband and she was starting to put the pieces together. 

“I couldn’t help but notice your friend isn’t here.” 

She looked up at her mother, her wide doe-like eyes giving everything away. 

“Aemond?”

She felt her cheeks heat and she turned her attention back to the view before her, focusing on the waves of the ocean, mirroring her breathing with each crashing wave. 

“He’s not my friend anymore.” She spoke quietly through the lump that grew in her throat. 

“From what I’ve heard, it sounds as though he is going through an awful time, something no one, especially someone so young, should ever have to endure. People don’t exactly act rationally when they are hurt. It is easy to speak things that are untrue in that state.”

She stayed silent, taking in her mother’s words thoughtfully. It was easy enough to explain, but it didn’t lessen the hurt she felt. 

“You can stay here if you wish. The Gods know I would love to keep you in my arms, but I don’t think that is truly what you want.”

She let out a shaking breath, her mind a mess as she thought of her life in King’s Landing, of what she’d be leaving behind. But, if Aemond was being truthful and he didn’t want to see her or be her friend anymore, what would her life be like there?

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Her mother assured her. “Or else we’ll have a dragon landing on our shores demanding you come back.”

The smile on her mother’s face made the hurt inside her melt away slightly. Her conviction that Aemond would forgive her for her intrusion, that he would bring her back into his life and his arms made her hopeful. 

Her mother was never wrong and she prayed she wouldn’t start now. 

~~

She clutched onto Helaena’s waist as they flew on Dreamfyre back to King’s Landing. No matter how thrilling it was to ride a dragon, no matter that she felt as light as a feather, that she could touch the clouds and feel as though she was in a magical, untouchable realm, it felt wrong. 

Her first ride shouldn’t have belonged to Helaena, it shouldn’t have been with Dreamfyre. It wasn’t what she promised. 

As they dismounted, Helaena’s hand held hers and stayed, holding tightly as they made their way from the dragonpit to the Keep, as if knowing her friend needed the comfort. 

As they parted, Helaena promised she’d spend the day with her tomorrow, knowing she needed the distraction from Aemond.

She smiled, though it wasn’t as bright as usual, and with a wave, they parted. She stepped into her chambers and sighed heavily, mourning what her time in King’s Landing would hold. 

She moved to her bed, content to hide under the covers for the rest of the day, but she stopped, noticing a bundle of flowers on her desk. She frowned, she certainly hadn’t put them there before she left. 

She stepped closer, her fingers gently tracing along the soft petals. They were perfectly bloomed and freshly plucked, most likely just placed on her desk mere minutes before she arrived. 

It suddenly struck her. 

They were marigolds. 

She remembered the flower Aemond had tucked behind her ear, the ones he would bring her on occasion simply because he knew she was fond of them. 

Her heart began to race, her stomach flipping at the merest notion that it could’ve been from her best friend. She picked up the bundle, inhaling their fresh scent with a small smile. 

She noticed the slip of parchment below them, the simple words in familiar handwriting brought tears to her eyes. 

I am deeply, truly sorry.

I didn’t mean a word of what I said

Please forgive me

- Your Aemond

Her breath hitched, her chest feeling tight with sorrow. 

The words he had screamed at her that day hurt her deeply, yet the thought of not having Aemond by her side, not having him as her friend, was unfathomable.

She spent the remainder of the day in her chambers, picking sparsely at the food her father had sent to her, knowing she wanted her solitude. By the next morning, having thought of nothing but Aemond all night, she was determined to see the end of their rift.

She dressed quickly and stepped out of her chambers, determined to march her way straight to Aemond, but she was stopped by her guard.

“The Prince has requested your presence in the gardens.” 

The crease in her brow that signaled her determination smoothed out, leaving nothing but hopeful nervousness as she quickly made her way through the halls of the Keep. She ignored the looks of disdain from the ladies of the court as she raced past them, ignoring the whispers of her undignified behavior. 

They were the last things on her mind.

Her heart was racing within her chest as she approached the gardens. She walked the familiar path, one she had taken countless times, to get to their usual meeting spot. Her feet came to an abrupt stop as she turned the last corner and saw him sitting on their bench, the one they always congregated to over the months together. 

Nervous butterflies fluttered within her as she approached him. 

She called out to him softly, cursing herself for how her voice shook in hopeful anticipation. 

Aemond turned to face her and she was shocked to see the eyepatch across his face, covering the angry looking wound she had seen that morning in his chambers. 

Her heart ached at the sight of the red scar that peeked out from the patch. It looked painful and the reminder of what he had gone through, what his own nephew had inflicted on him made her want to cry. 

He spoke her name in greeting, giving her a small, weak smile. He winced slightly, the pull of his cheeks causing his scar to flair with pain. 

Her chest tightened at the sight of him. He seemed smaller, as if he sat hunched over, trying hard not to take up too much space in the world. 

“I’m sorry.” She blurted out before he could speak. He looked up at her incredulously, his stomach twisting at the despair he saw on her face. “I shouldn’t have just barged into your chambers. I knew you wanted privacy and I ignored your wishes and I’m sorry. I never meant-”

Aemond spoke her name breathlessly, stopping her rambling apology. He had never seen her so frantic before, it was unnerving to him, nothing at all like the lively girl he was used to. And it was his fault.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He told her softly. He looked down at his hands that fidgeted in his lap, shame overcoming him as he thought back to that day, when he had yelled at her so callously. He had replayed that moment over and over again in his head for days and it was torturous each time. 

He couldn’t get the sight of her tears out of his head. To know he was the cause was his greatest shame. 

“I’m sorry.” He spoke earnestly, looking her in the eyes intently, hoping she would believe him. “I never should have spoken to you that way. I’m so sorry I made you cry. I never will again, I promise.” 

She let out a long breath, his words stirring something inside her she couldn’t recognize.

He frowned deeply at her lack of reaction, shuffling over and patted the space next to him on the bench, motioning for her to take a seat beside him. 

She moved slowly, hesitantly taking her seat next to him. 

“I’ve never seen you that angry before.” She spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper as she recalled that dreadful day. 

Aemond sighed and bowed his head. 

“I…” He started but soon found he had no words, no excuses for how he had treated her. Nothing would ever make it ok, never to her. “I hated to see you look at me like that.” Was the only thing he could think to say.

“Like what?”

“Like you were horrified of me.”

“I was horrified.” She said and he felt his insides turn to stone, his throat tightening with emotion. “But not of you. Never of you.” She added quickly, causing him to look over at her, his eye wide and shining with unshed tears. 

“But-”

“Aemond, the thought of what happened to you, the thought of you in pain… it hurts me.” 

The vice around his heart lifted instantly. His mind was spinning with the insinuation of her words.

“You… you’re not-”

She reached out, taking his hand in hers, causing words to fail him.

“I could never be afraid of you. I could never feel disgusted by you, I could never think any less of you, or whatever other horrible thing you think I feel for you now. No scar will change how I care for you.”

The weight that had been suffocating him for weeks now seemed to lift just the slightest, allowing him to feel as though he could finally take a breath. 

He let out a shaking breath and tightened his hand in hers. She smiled softly and leaned in closer to his side, letting her head fall to his shoulder, letting him revel in her closeness.

He hated the stares he got from the ladies at court, he hated the winces, the horrified gasps as he passed them. He hated the worried looks he received, as if he was seconds away from collapsing like a weak mannered child. 

But none of it mattered. 

She still cared for him, she was still by his side, her hand in his.

Even the burning fury he held for his nephew seemed dim in the wake of the pure delight he felt in her presence.

“But, if you ever raise your voice to me like that again I will smack you.” 

Her threat, that held no anger in the slightest, made him laugh and duck his head against hers as his body shook with each breath of laughter. 

His first laugh since the incident. 

From then, they were closer than ever. One was seldom seen without the other at their side. 

The Ladies at court through the two of them were just about the most darling thing they had ever seen. Yet, not everyone was rooting for the threads of young love to flourish. 

Alicent watched her son in the training yard with a frown. Her second son, so dutiful and so smart, was becoming distracted. Her eyes never strayed from him as he neglected his own lessons to play around with his friend, watching with a scowl as the two of them laughed together, as if there was no care in the world.

The sight of the young girl in the training yard was enough to leave her appalled, but her son’s willingness to indulge in such unseemly behavior was worrying. 

“We cannot let this go any further.” Her father spoke from beside her. 

“I can’t very well tell him he cannot be her friend. It would devastate him.”

“Let them be friends, but make it clear that is all it will ever be. Aemond can’t get any ideas about marrying this girl.”

Alicent chewed on her lower lip anxiously. The thought of tearing her son away from such happiness turned her stomach, but the thought of him marrying a girl so unpredictable was just as unfortunate. 

“Would it really be so bad? We could gain leverage with her father.”

“Ixtal is a neutral house. They have never taken a stand in any war, that won’t change now. We cannot risk Aemond allying with a house that could not give us leverage for Aegon’s claim.” Otto hissed angrily. 

Alicent wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes falling back to her son, taking in the sight of his smile while she still could. She doubted it would be a common sight once he was forced away from the Island girl. 

But they all had a duty to perform.

~~

Her arm was looped through his as he guided her past the dragon pit. 

“Where are we going?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at the structure that housed the mighty Targaryen dragons they had just passed. 

“Vhagar doesn’t stay there. She doesn’t fit.” Aemond explained, a slightly smug smirk crossing his features as he subtly boasted about his newly claimed dragon.

Her smile twitched slightly, her nerves suddenly overtaking her. She’d been hesitant when Aemond offered to introduce her to his mount, but the reminder of the great beast’s sheer size had the beginnings of fear creeping through her veins. 

Noticing the subtle shift in her expression, Aemond tightened his grip on her arm. 

“I would never put you in danger.” He assured her. “Vhagar is bonded to me, she can feel what I feel for you and she would never hurt you.”

“If I could hear that directly from Vhagar I might be able to breathe properly.” 

Aemond snickered and led her forward excitedly. 

Soon, they arrived at the crest of the hill, Vhagar’s enormous form coming into view. A shuddering breath escaped her when she came face to face with the historic dragon that fought in wars long before her time. 

She could barely comprehend such a beast of her size existed among them, that the sweet boy beside her commanded her or even willingly approached her. 

“Relax.” Aemond told her softly, moving out of her hold so his hand could take hers, intertwining their fingers. 

The pair of them stepped towards the sleeping giant. She watched, mystified, as Aemond spoke a few words of Valaryian, the dragon's eyes sleepily opening, her large head lifting towards them. 

She felt her body freeze, the blood in her veins running cold as the mighty dragon looked past her rider, her curious gaze landing on her. A low rumble shook the ground, Vhagar’s protest to the stranger before her. 

Aemond soothed his dragon, placing an affectionate hand on her snout as he spoke soft commands. 

She doubted a few measly words would suddenly convince Vhagar that she wasn’t a tasty snack, but she could only watch, her eyes widening as the dragon became disinterested by her presence, laying her head back down on the warm grass she had been slumbering on. 

Aemond looked over his shoulder at her prone form several feet back and smiled, motioning her to come closer. 

She shook her head adamantly, her feet frozen in place. 

He spoke her name, holding his hand out to her. 

She looked to his hand and then to his dragon and back again, contemplating the risk to her life. 

“Do you trust me?” Aemond asked and her tense shoulders sagged. She had no reason to doubt her best friend. With one look in his eye, she knew he would never let any harm come to her. 

She took slow steps forward, her fear not allowing her to move any quicker. 

She reached out and took Aemond’s hand in hers as soon as she was close enough, holding on tightly.

“It’s alright.” He assured her. 

He guided her hand toward Vhagar, watching the girl beside him closely, gaging every expression that crossed her face in a matter of seconds. From fear, to doubt, to disbelief and suddenly to awe. 

A shaky laugh left her lips as her hand softly rested on the rough scales of Vhagar’s side. Pure delight was etched across her face as she pet the mighty beast as if she were nothing more than a house cat. Aemond saw how excited she got when one of the many stray cats that roamed Flea Bottom ventured their way into the Keep. 

The excited smile she wore now as she pet his dragon was the same one he saw when she would cradle those strays. 

The thought made him laugh and he leaned in close to her, letting his head rest against hers. 

Seeing her now, fearless by his mount’s side, only confirmed what he already knew. 

She was meant to be with dragons. Meant to be with him. 

~~

I will hopefully have the next chapter out within the next couple of days! And yes, every chapter is going to be long, I have no control. Hope you liked it xx

[eraenaa]

Loathe to Love

Aemond Targaryen x Strong Reader Tag List

Synopsis: Seeking forgiveness is not a thing Aemond bothers himself with, but that quickly changes when he deeply offended you.

Warnings: ¿Softer Aemond?, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (F receiving), Targcest, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 6,411

Prequel: Blessed Curse

A/N: Based on a request where they wanted "Reader is Rhaenyra's daughter, who, like her brothers, doesn't have Valyrian characteristics. A scene like at dinner, in which Aemond accuses his nephews of being strong and, consequently, his wife too." (!Not related to the past two fics that were Aemond x Reader Wife!)

A blessing or a curse? Neither of you knew how to take and label this marriage devised by your grandsire. It was a final plea to unite your estranged family, offering you as Aemond’s bride because the King’s fading mind was still set on how you and Aemond were entirely fond of each other in childhood. However, that sentiment had completely changed during the fateful night in Driftmark. Whatever fondness you and your uncle had in childhood had rolled away with the tides in your supposed father’s home. Affection turned into animosity, and animosity quickly turned into resentment.

However, with the marriage you and Aemond were succumbed to, you both tried your most ardent effort to work through past differences. And with half a year since your union, you and Aemond had almost fully buried the grievances you harbored against each other. Gone now was the reluctant prince who stood by the end of Sept waiting for his bride, who was practically dragged down the aisle. Looks of unbridled hatred had faded and turned to looks of passion and longing. Deep-rooted loathing was slowly fading into love that both of you had yet to admit to the other. 

You broke fast in the gardens with your husband, a daily tradition that you and him established since the first days of your marriage. Most of the time, it would be just the two of you, but on some days, you two would be joined by his siblings and his mother, who surprisingly did not hold such great bitterness for you when compared to other members of your kin. And on a day such as this, you were joined by the queen and her only daughter, Helaena. “I saw the maids preparing some of the guest chambers. Are we to host a lord and their house, my Queen?” You asked your mother through marriage with a tilt of your head, your hand intertwined with your husband’s under a table, hidden from anyone’s view. 

Aemond raised his eye from the book he was reading and placed it on his mother. “Not particularly guests… your mother and your brothers are set to visit,” She replied, and your brows shot up in surprise. Aemond turned to you, plush lips agape in shock. “Did you not know?” The queen asked, and you shook your head. “No… they had not written to me about such matters,” You said, your lips twitching into a smile of excitement as you had terribly missed our family. You turned to your husband; whatever reaction he had was hidden behind his ever-stoic expression. However, you did feel his hold on your hand grow tighter. Though his animosity towards you had died with every kiss shared and every hour spent in each other’s arms, you could not say that that would be the case for the other members of your family. You could practically feel the tantalizing anger within radiating off him. 

“I’m going to the tiltyard,” Aemond suddenly announced and abruptly stood up, making you sigh. His mother and sister nodded, but before his departure from breakfast, you felt him place a chaste kiss on your temple before walking off. Leaving you wide-eyed and blushing before his kin for neither of you had displayed such affections so openly. The touches and kisses and pleasures you shared were saved for the privacy of your marital chambers, and to have him do such an affectionate action in front of others was completely uncharacteristic of him. You lower your head as you feel your cheeks burn red, but if you had kept your head held up high, you would see a small smile on the queen’s lips, for she too was shocked and amused by her son’s actions. Never had she imagined for her favored son to find a wife that would bring out the warmth and tenderness in him that everyone believed to be lost the day his eye was taken by your younger brother.

For the rest of the day, you were busied with your engagements with the other ladies of the court to the point that the day had faded into the night. It was past the usual time of your supper, and you were certain your husband was preparing himself for bed, which is why it was a surprise when you entered your marital chambers with Aemond seated by the table where a meal for both of you lay, untouched. “You still have not eaten?” You asked as you stood behind your seat that was across your husband’s. “I was waiting for you,” Was all he said, as he motioned for you to sit. You blinked at him; the warm, flickering light of the fire illuminated his silver locks that were unique to your house but you had not inherited. The silhouette cast made his angular, Valyrian features more prominent, and you could not help but feel a small pang of jealousy, for you were never blessed with such acclaimed features that your house was celebrated for. 

You licked your lips and removed your gaze from your husband’s lilac eye. You took your seat and quietly watched him as he placed items of food onto your plate. “You should have eaten earlier,” you said quietly, knowing that Aemond’s last meal was the one you shared in the morning, for your husband did not eat luncheon nor any other small meal to aid him between the morning and the evening. “Like I’ve said, I was waiting for you,” He said as he poured wine into your chalice. You flashed him a small smile of gratitude, and like always, he gave a quiet nod of acknowledgment. “How was your day?” You asked before taking a bit of the temped meal that had been waiting for you along with your husband. “Fine. I trained, I read, and then accompanied my grandsire with business,” he said and took a sip of wine. “And yours?” He asked, and you smiled as you began to recall your day. 

Aemond nodded along as he ate, and you went on to tell him about your day. He had no intention of telling you, but this was his second-most favorite time of each day. He quickly had gotten used to listening to you babble and tell him about the ventures you had just hours before. He had no particular care about the subjects of which you spoke of; all he cared about was hearing you speak. Watching you as you would reenact your encounters or how your expression would change when you told him about the latest gossip in court. He would always note how your voice would grow an octave higher when you spoke of an event you found most entertaining or exciting, and he loved gazing into your beguiling, brown eyes that would twinkle in the candlelight.

“Will you accompany me tomorrow?” You asked as you had finished retelling your day to your husband. “To where?” Aemond asked as he was slightly disappointed that you did not have many anecdotes to share that night; you would usually have prolonged stories that Aemond would listen attentively to until he had fished his meal. “To welcome my mother, father, and brothers by the pits when they arrive,” You say and play with the peas on your plate. Aemond was silent for a moment; you took in a deep breath and thought that perhaps your request was a bit much for him. Though you expected him to act civilly with your kin, wanting him to join you in welcoming them was perhaps a bit much. “Nevermind… I ca—“ Your husband interrupted your sentence. “I shall join you,” he said, and your lips agape in shock once more. 

Aemond bit his tongue to hinder himself from smiling widely at the expression that flashed before your pretty face. His urges announced himself as his eye caught your plump lips parted; amusement and arousal swirling within him. “You will?” You asked, making certain you had heard no false agreement. “My lady wife had made a simple request; of course, I shall oblige it,” He answered and felt his heart flutter as a beaming smile spread to your lips. Aemond felt fire in his veins as you stood from your seat and went to him to place a supposed chaste kiss on his lips, but Aemond wanted more. You gasped as you were pulled to sit on his lap, your kiss deepening with each moment and your body aching with need as Aemond’s hands were holding your waist and the other cupping your cheek. You feel your husband’s need through his trousers and through your dress. 

You moaned at the taste of wine on his tongue. His hand traveled toward your bosom, cupping your tit through the bodice of your dress, his fingers undoing the laces of your gown but the two of you never parted your intertwined lips. Aemond groaned as you accidentally bit his lip, but you would take it that he liked the occurrence as you felt his hips buck upwards and seek friction. Aemond reluctantly parted your lips to gasp for air; he watched you pant, eyes filled with longing and lust, lips swollen and shined with a glossy shine of him. 

You yelped as your husband punched you on the table, sweeping away the meal you two had just shared, the plates and cutlery falling onto the floor with a loud noise, but neither of you heard as you two were completely lost and dazed with want for each other. You pulled Aemond towards you as you wanted to feel his lips once more. Aemond had fully undone the laces of your gown, and you felt the sleeves of it draping off and the hem of it being risen by your husband. You hummed in question as you felt Aemond push you to lie down on the wooden table. You propped yourself by your elbows to see what he was doing. Your eyes locked with his lone one as he sank to his knees. The hem of your dress had bundled up to your waist, and Aemond placed his cold hands at each of your thighs. 

You bit harshly at your lower lip as he placed kisses on each side of your thighs, nipping the soft skin making you whimper at the stinging pain that he would immediately soothe with his tongue. “Aemond,” you called as he continued to tease you, his tongue licking strips upward to your needing heart but would abruptly stop before inching closer towards the place you need his tongue most. “Yes, wife?” He hummed, and you huffed as you sensed tease in his voice. “Please,” You pleaded in ancient tongue, and there was a long pause before he obliged your request. You breathed heavily as Aemond sucked on your delicate pearl, him humming in delight as he tasted your essence and as well to add to your pleasure. 

Your moans accompanied the crackle of the fire as Aemond inserted two of his fingers, him curling the calloused digits and spurring you quickly to your peak. You could not understand how he was so skilled in such endeavors, able to make you quickly come undone even though he confessed himself that before you, he had only laid with a woman once, on the behest of his older brother. 

Aemond smirked as he gazed at you laying on the table you two had your meals on, your pretty face that everyone tried to sell as plain still contorted in pleasure that he was the cause of. Aemond brought his fingers to his lips and sucked the essence of you clean, his other hand undoing the laces of his trousers as his cock painfully sought to be inside you. Aemond had always believed himself to be indifferent to the acts of intimacy, but he quickly learned that that sentiment was completely false when it came to you. On the night after your marriage, he had no plan to partake in the marital act, ready to cut his palm and pretend he beaded you so the court would not have a new gossip piece in the morning. However, that plan was quickly forgotten by just the sight of you undressing behind a divider. The candlelight illuminated your form and created a silhouette of your frame undressing and caused Aemond to need greatly. And ever since that night, the pleasures of the flesh he always thought he was indifferent to quickly turned, and he now harbored the same needing patterns he saw in his brother that he used to frown upon. 

Aemond locked your lips and assisted you off the table, you had thought he would lead you towards your bed, but you frowned through your kiss as he turned you around in his arms, your back resting against his chest, his pulsating length resting against your still hiked up gown. You feel Aemond’s lips move from your lip to your neck, his cold hands forcing your gown downwards and letting it pool at your feet, leaving you exposed. You whispered as his hands made their way to cup and squeeze your breast. The sensitive buds grew taut at the coldness of touch. You hear Aemond take in a deep breath of your scent, and you let out a bubbling moan as his length is placed in the crevice of your bottom, Aemond letting it glide in between your bum. 

You gasped in shock as you felt Aemond push you down onto the table, bending you over the sturdy wood and abruptly entering you without warning. You let out a wry moan as you did not know if you should focus on the pain or pleasure he gave. Aemond bit harshly at his lip as he was incredibly pleasured by the new angle he was taking you in, as well as the sight of you bent over the wooden table. He bundled your dark hair into his hands, feeling the soft silky waves and pulling on it and earning a moan from your lips and caused a further tightening in your cunt. “It would seem that my wife likes to be fucked like a common whore,” He gritted in between thrusts. Aemond knew he pleasured you well, but with this new position, your moans had only grown louder than the past times you had laid. Your cunt grew tighter and more wet, and you were quicker to come undone once more. 

“Yes… yes, Aemond! Don’t stop, please, don’t stop!” You cried as he pounded at you from behind. Aemond griped the plump flesh of your behind, watching as the skin grew red from his hold; he moved his hands to your waist as he felt the urge of release coming to him as well. Your moans rang louder in his ears, his name slipping from your lips, urging him to come quickly than past nights. He groaned out your name as he spilled his seed deep inside you, hoping that his seed would finally take as he was already zealous with the thought of you swole with his child. Your dazed mind could barely comprehend Aemond assisting you up from your bent position because all your body could focus on was the peak you had reached and his lips against yours once more. You let your husband carry you to bed, him tucking you in his arms like always, and you drifted to sleep wholly satisfied. 

Aemond placed his gaze upon you, who was practically bouncing in excitement at your spot next to him. You two stood by the pits as a welcoming party for your kin. Aemond placed great restrain upon himself to not let his animosity show when he spotted your brothers landing your little dragons. “Sister!” He heard the boy who took his eye scream, and Aemond felt you let go of his hand to run to your brother. He did not want to entertain the small pang in his heart as you readily let go of his hold to run and warmly embrace the boy who had maimed him beyond repair, but he knew that with your marriage, whatever fondness and understanding you and Aemond had and will develop will be divided with your love for your true family. 

“Oh, I’ve missed you!” You gushed and kissed Lucerys’ cheek; you smiled widely that even though your brother was on the cusp of adolescence, he melted of talc and your mother’s oils. “Your favoritism is showing, sister,” You hear Jacaerys tease, and you sigh in amusement, letting go of Lucerys and moving to embrace your older brother. 

Aemond watched you as you greeted your family with such open warmth and love that he and his kin were never accustomed to. Aemond shifted his gaze to your younger brother, who had a wary look in his oak eyes. Aemond bit his cheeks as he stared down the boy who cowardly shifted his gaze and went closer to you, like a little scared pup hiding behind Aemond’s wife. 

“Where are Baela and Rheana?” You asked as you let go of your embrace of Jacaerys,  looking around the pits. “They went on the ship along with Joffery and the babes. They shall reach by nightfall,” he answered, and you nodded. Your brother’s gaze shifted between you and your husband, who stood by the side, “How… how are you, sister? Is…” He trailed as Aemond challenged his gaze. You gave him a small smile, “I’m fine, Jacaerys, perfectly fine, better now that you are all here.” You said, and Jacaerys hesitantly nodded, not completely believing your sentiments. “Tala,” You hear yourself being called by your stepfather, who stands beside your mother, and you hurriedly go in their direction. “My sweet girl!” Your mother smiled and kissed your cheek as you went to embrace her. “You look more cheery since we left you. Are they treating you well? Or do I have to behead that cunt of a husband that you have?” Daemon asked, and your smile faltered at his words. “Father,” You warned, and you heard him sigh. “They are treating me perfectly well,” You said, and just like Jacaerys, Daemond gave an unconvinced nod. 

You turn to Aemond, who still stands idly by the side; you make hastened steps towards your husband as members of your family remove their riding gear. “Do you wish to return to the keep?” You asked, learning he had grown bored and impatient. He turned his body to face you, his brow raised in question. “I could ride with them in the wheelhouse; you can return to your training if you wish,” You smiled. Aemond studied your eyes; he knew that the words you uttered were for his benefit, but he could not help but think it was you driving him away as you would rather spend time with your family than him. 

“It is not that I wish for you to leave, but if you would rather return to your training or reading, I would completely understand,” You added, and Aemond froze at your words; it was as if you could read his mind. He did not know how you did it, but you had this ability to know things about him without him even saying them out loud. He was quick to learn that you could see past his hardened exterior and see the intent and thoughts he kept to himself. You were the only person who knew him with such a deep level of understanding. “It is fine. I shall wait for you, and we could ride back together to the keep,” He said, and his cold heart ran warm as you flashed him with your beaming smile. 

“What did they do to her?” Jacaerys asked as he stood near his brother and parents. “That last time we were here, she was completely ready to sail off to Essos just to escape him,” he added, and Daemon shook his head, removing himself from the conversation as he, too, was perplexed at how you completely turned your views towards this marriage. “I believe that is what love does,” Rhaenyra sighed, and Daemon scoffed in ridicule from a distance, and Jacaerys quickly shook his head. “Love? You practically had to drag her down the aisle! That is not love… that is some work by a potion slipped into her wine!” Jacaerys disagreed, and your mother breathed out a laugh. “Believe what you want, but your sister is stronger than to let a potion alter her emotions; that affection is brought by love,” She sighed as she, too, was surprised by the outcome of this marriage but was entirely pleased to learn that you found love in a person that all believed had none. 

When all of you returned to the castle, your husband went straight to the tiltyard whilst your parents set off to visit your grandsire. You, however, accompanied your brothers as they wanted to tour around the keep that was once their home. Throughout your whole tour, you could not help but grow curious at the curious and prying glances thrown at the three of you that had faded during the moons of your return to the Red Keep. “They keep staring at us,” You hear Lucerys whisper to Jacareys, who still kept his head held high despite being in the den of vipers. 

“Ignore them,” You whispered to your younger brother. You smile as Jacaeyrs pulls Lucerys towards the tiltyard, hurriedly going down the steps to explore the place they used to frequent as children. You stood by the railings, your eyes catching the flutter of silver hair, your husband training with his sword along with Ser Criston, whom he battled with. You stood steady by your spot by the balcony that overlooks the tiltyard, leaning in on the railing as you watched Aemond impressively train with his sword. It was truly a wonder to watch Aemond with his sword; he was able to command the room with each swing and movement he did. Captivating everyone as he simulated the battlefield, even your brothers stopped their reminiscing to watch him train. Far was he from the little boy he tripped over his wooden sword and struggled to even keep it upright. 

“Well done, my prince, you will be winning tourneys at no time,” You hear Ser Kristen compliment the prince he had molded into a warrior as the tip of Aemond’s sword placed at the knight’s neck. “I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” You hear your husband reply as you descended down the stairs, making your way to your brothers. “Nephews, have you come to train?” He asked as you paused behind Lucerys and Jacaerys. Aemond’s challenging gaze turned to you, who announced her presence. You stared into his lilac eye and saw it somewhat softened. Aemond clenched his jaw and lowered his sword as the crowd that surrounded him began to dissolve. A clear path leading to you was made, and Aemond crossed it, forgetting about his want to challenge his nephews.

“You were most impressive with your sword,” You complimented lowly as you felt Aemond guide you to the side, and he placed his hand on your lower back. “I am glad that you found that impressive, little wife,” He hummed and wiped his sword, ignoring the stares of your brothers who stood by the side. “Perhaps I should wonder more often to the tiltyard; I would not want to miss an opportunity to watch my husband best the most acclaimed knights of the realm.” You feel your heart flutter as Aemond’s lips twitch into a small smirk. “Perhaps you should,” He said, unable to control the amusement that laced his voice and shinned brightly in his eye. 

“Do you believe what Mother says? That they are in love?” Jacaerys whispered to Lucerys, who looked at you smiling upon your husband, “I… I do not know, perhaps,” he whispered as he noted that the smile on your lips was no pretense nor was it forced. And the gleam in your eyes could only be translated into love. Lucerys shifted his gaze back to his brother as you walked off and Aemond returned to training. “But how? How could our sister love someone like him?” Jacaerys asked incredulously, his voice growing a bit louder. 

Aemond clenched his jaw as he heard your brother’s words. It was a danger to all that rage was quickly bubbling inside him, and he had a weapon in his hold. The one-eyed prince took in deep breaths to calm himself, reminding himself that you were just by the side waiting and watching him. 

But a gnawing feeling in his gut had settled, and he too started to wonder as to how you could ever love someone like him. It is no secret that you and he were raised with opposing views of the world and even clashing families as well. His mother never approved of how your mother had raised you; everything about yours and your brother’s conception and upbringing had brought shame upon the Targaryen name and reputation. And the years before were nothing short of hatred. Yes, the both of you were fond of each other in childhood, but is that enough to undo the following years of animosity and contempt? Will these past moons that were filled with shared understanding and longing be enough to undo the resentment of the past? 

It was enough for him. You were enough of a reason for him to let go of the grudges and grievances harbored. By some divine, paradoxical power, your blessed touch was the only touch that could tend and stitch Aemond’s broken past created by your own kin. Even with all the traditions and honor that were desecrated by your mere birth, Aemond could not help but love you, even if he had not said it out loud. No matter your differences, no matter the truth of your illegitimacy, he loved you truly. 

However, that overflowing affection he had towards you was for you and you alone. The civility he knew that he should display was slipping out from his hold as old hatred for your brothers was starting to wake, and Aemond was not entirely certain if he could control the burning rage in his veins once more. 

You sat next to your husband for a rare family dinner; it was the first time the whole of your clan had been together since your and Aemond’s wedding. You smiled fondly as Baela and Rhaena had already arrived along with your youngest brothers, who were now fast asleep in the nursery. You kept your secret hold on Aemond’s hand as the dinner proceeded, your heart full of joy as you wanted to erase the emotions you were feeling the last time the whole of the family was together with something more pleasant. Gone now was the hatred and agony you felt in your heart as your grandsire ordered your marriage with Aemond. The only thing you now felt for your husband was love. It could be considered ridiculous that with just half a year of marriage, all the deep-rooted anger and ire from the past had completely decimated and turned into blooming love, but that was the truth of it. 

“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table.” The king said “The faces most dear to me in all the world, yet grown so distant from each other in the years past.” His final plea for peace was supposed to be yours and Aemond’s marriage, but that seemed to do little for the others to bury the grievances made years before. Your hold on Aemond’s hand tightened as you Grandsire removed his mask and exposed his decaying face. “My own face is no longer a handsome one… if indeed it ever was. But tonight, I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king… But your father.” He said and turned to his children, “Your brother,” the king turned to Daemon. “Your husband,” he said to the queen. “And your grandsire.” He finished turning to you and your siblings. “Who may not, it seems…walk for much longer among you. Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts.” He ended. 

You were so entrapped by the speech given by your grandsire that you had not even realized that in the midst of that heartfelt moment, your husband was having a contest of stares amongst your brothers. Not a word by the king affected nor lessened the hatred in their hearts for each other. 

You watched and listened intently as toast from both sides of your families started to circulate to the table, obliging the king’s request for civility and the possibility of unification for your house. By the end of the toasts, the intimate feast once more commenced, and your smile only grew with each passing moment of peace. However, it was quickly taken from you as a roasted pig was placed in front of you and Aemond, our gaze flying to your younger brother, who snickered as he recalled the cruel jest they made at Aemond’s expense years before. “Lucerys,” you hissed sharply in warning. Your heart skipped a beat as your husband let go of your hold and slammed his clenched fist on the table, rendering the room silent. “Final tribute,” He announced, the attention of the entire room upon him. 

“To the health of my nephews. Jace… Luc… and Joffery,” He began, and you felt your hands grow cold at his words, already knowing where this would lead. “Each of them handsome, wise…” He trailed, catching your eyes that pleaded for him to stop and not speak of offense. He, however, ignored your pleas. “Strong,” He ended, and you feel your heart painfully pit in your chest. Your gaze flew to your lap, and you softly shook your head in disappointment, for you had foolishly believed that your husband would at least grow somewhat sensitive at the matter of you and your brother’s true paternity. “Come. Let us drain our cups to these three strong boys!” He announced, and you felt a painful twist in your stomach. 

The peaceful meal between your kin that you had longed for had turned ugly and violent; you shook your head as your husband and his brother, along with your brothers, waltzed back into old patterns and began to brawl and fight each other. You shook your head and stood from your seat, quietly exiting the room and leaving the fight that the other tried to break up. Aemond watched your departing figure, disappointment oozing off your frame as you exited the hall. He turned to your brothers' red and angered faces, and it only dawned upon him the severity of his offense. He was ready to go after you, but his mother pulling on his arm hindered him, the queen scolding her grown son as if he were a boy. 

Moments after, Aemond rushed to your chambers in dire need to speak with you, but you were not there. Aemond walked the darkened corridors of the keep, searching every spot you would frequent but to no avail. Aemond halted in his steps as he heard footsteps and voices approaching. “I’ve told you that they were not suited for each other,” Aemond heard your stepfather say, voice enraged. “You saw how openly he disparaged and humiliated her and her siblings— what more if they were behind closed doors?” Daemon seethed, him having half the mind to march to the king and demand an annulment of your marriage with Aemond.

Aemond clenched his fists in anger as he heard how low the opinion of your stepfather had of him, but that anger was being overpowered by guilt as he recalled your pleading face earlier as you quietly begged him not to speak offense. But Aemond could no longer control himself as being in the presence of your brothers brought back the uninhibited rage he genuinely thought he could control for your sake. Aemond took in a deep breath and stomped off, determined to find you. He scoured the entirety of the keep in search of you, with each passing moment that you were not found added to his guilt and the pang in his chest. It was nearing the hour of the wolf, and Aemond still had not found you. Aemond rarely felt fear; he refused to be in fear of anything, but just by just the mere hours of your absence had him drowning in dread and despair.

Aemond thought of retiring back to your chambers and perhaps try to find you when the sun had risen, but his body could not physically rest without your presence. Aemond found him straying towards the gardens, his feet carrying him towards the weirwood tree that you two had often frequented in childhood. He halted in his steps as he heard quiet sobs and sniffling, his knees growing weak at the sight of your body curled upon the trunk of the tree, your face in your hands as you tried to stifle your sobs. Aemond made cautious steps towards you, swallowing thickly as he had never succumbed to such guilt and pain before; it was unbearable to see you cry— more so for he knew that the reason for your tears was him. 

Aemond felt his breathing caught in his throat as you lifted your gaze, and your bloodshot eyes met his. “Why?” You managed to ask, your voice hoarse and filled with emotion. It was too much; Aemond wanted to fall to his knees and ask for your forgiveness; he could not take the way you stared up at him with such great sadness. “Why… why would you do such a thing? Why could you not l…” You could not even make yourself finish your words as a bubbling sob of angered sadness took over you. You tightly shut your eyes as Aemond fell on his knees before you, trying to take hold of your hand, but you over away from his touch. 

“I know of the resentment you have for my siblings— for me because we are bastards and because Lucerys had taken your eye. It was foolish for me to think that with our marriage, perhaps that enmity in you would lessen or at least be concealed enough that you would not seek out revenge so… so openly and as well as disparage me and my honor,” You say, your voice shaking as you try to take hold of your cries. “I did not mean to offend you; that was not aimed toward you,” Aemond said, and you shook your head. “They are my brothers, Aemond. Questioning their paternity means to question mine as well. Wounding them would be wounding me as well,” You countered and shook your head as Aemond moved to take hold of your hands. 

“I… I know it is difficult for you to be subjected to a room with my kin— especially my brothers, but could you not have let this one-night slide past peacefully? I am not seeking out your forgiveness; I was just hoping for something that resembled peace, just for one night,” You said lowly, voice trembling with your sobs and the cool night air that gusted around the gardens. Aemond sighed and rested his head against your clasped hands, still on his knees as you sat before him dejectedly. “I’m… I’m sorry, my love,” He whispered, and you froze, trying to decipher if you had heard him correctly. Never once had you heard him apologize nor use such an endearment. 

“I apologize. I was consumed by my anger, and I could not control my rage. I should have kept my composure,” He said and looked up at your face, tear-stained cheeks flushed with sadness, bloodshot eyes in question, and pink lips agape in mystification. “I’m sorry,” Aemond said once more and placed a kiss on your knuckles. The word felt foreign on his tongue, but at the same time, it rolled effortlessly as he knew it would be his saving grace not to lose you. You sat quietly, uncertain what to reply, though you had been enveloped in rage and sorrow, by Aemond’s actions, it somehow miraculously faded by his words and touch. 

“You called me ‘love’,” was all you could manage to say, the word still ringing in your ears even though you knew you should focus on the other matter. Aemond scrunched his brows as he gazed at your face, “I… I suppose I did,” He said, not even realizing the word slipped out his lips. He had been wanting to call you that endearment for weeks now, but he thought you would not take it well or that the softness and affection of it would lessen his stoic exterior. “Do you love me?” You could not help but ask, preparing yourself for the blow if it proves that your judgment was false. Aemond’s cold hands turned a degree colder as you asked the question. With each moment of silence, you feel your heart pit further, your mind scolding you for asking such a query. After another moment of prolonged silence, you sighed and were ready to stand, ready to mourn a different type of sadness. 

“Of course I do,” Aemond finally spoke, “I love you,” He added, determined for you to believe his words. You were stunned at his confession that words eluded you, and all you could do was pull him close and kiss his lips. “I do not care about your paternity. I don’t think I ever truly did… I only acted as such to appease my mother and her father. And I know I have played the part well, acting as if I harbor loathing for you ever since childhood, but I could never resent you, not truly.” Aemond sighed as your lips parted, and you smiled widely against his lips. Tears of melancholy turned into tears of glee. 

“You love me,” You mused as you cupped his cheeks, your thumb gently brushing the raised skin of his scar. “I love you.” Aemond confirmed, and he hummed as you kissed his lips once more. The events at supper were long forgotten as you and he finally shared the affection you both harbored long ago but were just too afraid to say out loud. 

[lady-ashfade]

Our comfort

Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader. (Percy, Annabeth, Grover)

—£ Yes I know I haven’t finish the book but I actually couldn’t wait anymore. So, this is me with little knowledge so bare that in mind.

—£ Warnings: Book/show spoilers, Yandere! Behavior, Being bound to a place, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Characters fighting for the reader’s attention. Short.

You weren’t a known for too long goddess, much younger then rest of the gods. A teenager like age compared to them. It was strange to have more powerful gods look to you for comfort but you love it. As you are the goddess of comfort.

But, as the other gods started to have many demigods you saw how miserable they could get. You hated the fact they didn’t care for their children so you decided to stay at the camp for half-bloods when the time came.

The campers cling to you. You bring a comfort they never quite felt before. It was like a warm hug, like the ones they wanted from their parents.

You couldn’t leave, and at the beginning you were glad to accept that fate.

Almost always you are found surrounded by demigods and they just relax in your comfort. You are the one they go to with every worry in their mind.

Being close to Aphrodite, her seeing you as a sister and a younger child. Stories of your love for one another are still told today, as she gave ideas to the mortals of how great your relationship was. But in reality there wasn’t much to tell.

So her children have a mentality that they are your favorite and because of their mother, they have some sort of claim to you above the others. But that never works because you love the children equally.

The demigods have less nightmares with you around and watching over them.

Ares children fight often for your affection. They will constantly get into fights with others to show they deserve more time with you. Which you always scold them but it never sticks. They kiss their weapons each time to you, like a sign of good luck. Aries children are one of the worsts ones because they get aggressive at times, even with you. But the golds make them stop by punishing them, mostly their father.

Hermes children are hard to explain really. They aren’t aggressive, but they are mischievous. They take their revenge of stealing things from the other campers, pulling pranks. Or trapping some of them up and go straight to you before they can get there. Luke for instance, is always looking around for you and talking about his day. He’s either laying down next to you, or making you watch him train.

Many games of all houses take place just for you.

AnnaBeth, is constantly by your side when she has free time. She scares off people with a glare behind your back, knowing that she could put plan them. She also trains and makes you watcher her and needs your praise. Maybe, somehow you are her older sister. But, sometimes she just chills by your side not saying anything, she’s like a lost duck at times.

Grover however is actually a lost duck. You comfort him when his past missions fail and he loses kids. You are so nice to him and makes him feel special and brave. When he has to leave he keeps a coin in his pocket with your face on it and prays a lot. He’s not possessive much. He’s willing to take what he can get and is just happy to be there. But maybe if someone comes in when he’s “crying” and having you fuss over him then he’ll be a bit mad but never does anything about it.

When a new camper arrives you devote your time to them because they need it a little more. They come into a world they know nothing of, waiting for the parent they hardly know to claim them. You claim them like your own until the time comes.

So when Percy comes you feel something off with him, like he is special and in need of a lot. He lost his mom, taken from the world he knew.

Percy becomes the most possessive out of all of them.

He feels out of place but you are always there to listen to him. It doesn’t help that you follow him to make sure he’s okay. At the beginning you’re both following each other around.

“It’s okay, Percy.” You brush his hair lightly like his mother used to do. “You’ll get claim, and you’ll have glory.” And he doesn’t care if you say that to everyone because you make him feel special. 

Also, you protect the new bloods. So you’ll show up when he gets bullied and just raise one brow and they all back off. Can’t risk making you mad at them.

When Percy gets claimed he’s all alone again, no friends and the campers looking at him funny. Being one of the top threes son isn’t fun or easy. He shares a cabin all to himself.

So he starts to be the worst of them all. Raising his voice when you try and leave him and he manipulates you to stay with him. Can’t you see how alone he is?

He can’t sleep unless he knows your watching over him.

You pick no sides of the war. Your family will figure it out themselves, while you take care of their children.

[gguk-n]

The Exception (Max Verstappen x Reader)

Summary- 4 times Max let y/n get away with whatever she wanted and 1 time he didn't.

I just have so much love for maxie and I wanna show it so it came out as this. Hope you like it!! I hope maxie is only loved tbh

Max was very young when he had moved to a Netherland. If someone asked him when it was, he'd probably never be able to tell. But he could tell you about the annoying neighbours he had growing up. Yes, he did spend most of his time karting and didn't have the time at home or in school like normal kids his age would but the fleeting moments spent at that house in Netherland left behind fond memories that he can look back and only because of a certain little girl with chubby cheeks and two identical braids on either side of her head who had made quite a place in his life. Jos wasn't very happy with Max wasting his time entertaining those kids but he couldn't do much when the children's father was a tall bulky man who could take Jos out in one punch, insisted on letting the kids play together. The tall man had 3 kids Max noticed when he had dinner at their place for the first time; the oldest being the girl who we mentioned before followed by 2 younger brothers who seemed to love karting. They asked Max so many questions about it that they got scolded by their mother for ruining dinner for everyone but Max thought was cute because the youngest couldn't even pronounce karting but had a lot to say. Every time he would spend time with his neighbours, it would always be with the 2 young boys who wanted to learn how to kart better and become like Max like the younger one put it. Even now it makes Max laugh reminiscing about those days. They never really made it professionally though.

2008

Max and the 2 boys were playing around when their older sister asked if they would like to join her for a session of afternoon tea with Mr Whale and Miss Teapot. The brothers made a face of disgust and ran away from her, dejected she turned around when Max agreed. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She quickly dragged him into her room and had him sit next to Mr Longneck, the giraffe. An hour later Max was found in Y/N's room with two pigtails if you could call them that on the top of his head, a tiara and the prettiest necklace Y/N owned. Looking at himself in the mirror he couldn't help but laugh. Y/N on the contrary looked pleased with her handy work. She thanked him for being a good and compliant customer and to come back again if he ever wanted to look pretty. It wasn't easy to get Max to do what you wanted except he couldn't say no to her puppy eyes. She even gave him a drawing of him in his kart saying that it would bring him good luck since she couldn't be there and placed her favourite bracelet on his hand.

If Y/N was to ask him about the bracelet, Max would say he lost it as soon as she gave it to him, but deep down in the watch drawer of Max's Monaco apartment sat a brightly neon pink bracelet with Y/N’s initials.

2014

Y/N had started highschool and remained the annoying self Max had come to love. Her over the top demeanor and affection to screaming at the top of her lungs whenever she spotted Max never failed to make him smile. Having joined Formula one this year, meant Max was way to busy to be home but Y/N seemed to never forget to text him regularly. She would ask him to get autographs of other drivers or souvenirs from different countries. It was a regular race weekend when Y/N texted Max asking him to explain how the engine in a go kart worked. In a split second Max was on call with her asking "why do you need that?" to which she replied "I'm doing a project on that. I even made a small scale replica of your kart Look here!!!" She exclaimed. "I just need to shrink you and place you inside it" Y/N laughed. Max told her not to worry and that he would text her the details in a hour or so. Actually it took a couple hours and Y/N was starting to get agitated and called him back. Max replied with a almost done and smiled at her. He had literally written her entire report for her and sent it to review. Y/N almost screamed when she saw the assignment. She thanked Maxie for doing this for her and that she owed him her life. Max was just happy to be of help, he told himself more than he told her because who stays up till 5 in the morning on a race weekend doing someone else’s project.

He kept the small scale replica of his Kart on the mantle above the fireplace if anyone wanted to know what happened to the kart.

2018

Y/N was freshly 18, so getting drunk was the only thing on her agenda. On a night out, she was so drunk that no one could get her to move because she wanted her Maxie and would only leave with Maxie, she enunciated. Her friend was able to open up Y/N phone and thankfully find a Maxie in her favourite contacts. She called the number to be met with a groggy but worried voice. "Hi! This is Y/N's friend Kate speaking. Am I speaking with a....maxie?" she said tentatively. Max let out a sigh while rubbing his eyes, "Yes, this is Max speaking." "Can you come pick Y/N up?" She asked hesitantly followed by, "She won't leave with anyone but you apparently." Max was already out of bed and near the door when he said "I'll be there in 10, where are you guys at?" She sent him the location and waited for 'maxie'. Nothing could've prepared them for this. They had thought Maxie was a friend, a boyfriend maybe even a neighbour; they did not think Maxie was Max Verstappen, F1 driver for Redbull racing. He apologised for the inconvenience and crouched down to Y/N level who seemed to have realised that he was here. She cupped his cheeks and giggled while turning his head to the crowd of people standing, "Look, this is my Maxie." Hearing Y/N say my maxie made his heart beat faster then it should've, he admits but that girl had a tight hold on his heart and he couldn't really do much about it. She stood up and wrapped her arms around Max asking him to carry her since her legs felt like mush. Max gladly carried her back to his car, as he fastened her seat belt she asked him to take her back to his place since her parents would probably disown her if she come in drunk for the 6th time this week. Max looked shocked and asked her to stop drinking so much since it wasn't good for her. All Y/N could mumble was that the alcohol made the pain in her heart bearable. This broke Max's heart. Who would dare hurt his precious little angel, if he met that guy he was so dead, Max thought. Little did he know that guy was the one driving her back home.

Y/N was a nuisance when drunk, she reminded him of the little girl he had befriended when he moved here. She wouldn't listen to anything he asked her to do that night until he agreed to let her do make up on him which he would gladly agree to, real or not.

2022

Y/N had recently graduated and was looking for a place to stay. It was one of those nights after a fruitless apartment hunt Y/N facetimed Max. He looked very comfortable in his sim racing chair in his luxurious apartment in Monaco having moved recently. "Maxie" the younger girl sighed. "Meisje, what's the problem?" came a concerned voice. "I can't seem to find a decent apartment, I've been at it for months now." she said. Max offered to help her find the right place and Y/N started listing out all the things she wanted in her apartment which was sounding a lot like Max current apartment which was true, that was Y/N's dream apartment currently; after seeing it a couple months ago when she had visited him as a housewarming surprise and even held a party for him. "You can move to Monaco, the house you're looking for is here" Max said. After a long pause Y/N replied with a chuckle, "I don't make formula 1 money. I'm too broke to afford a house here. In Monaco, I'd have to sell my organs to afford a place there." As if it was the most obvious thing, Max offered her to stay at his place and look for a job here.

The allure of Monaco was too much and Y/N was able to thankfully find a job there so that she wouldn't be completely dependent on Max which he wouldn't have minded. Max never let her pay rent, he'd always tell her to cook good food and that was rent sorted.

2023

It was the night of the Abu Dhabi grand prix. Max had just won his third WDC so him and his friends decided to go out to celebrate, Y/N included. The night carried on as usual, Max not touching much of the alcohol since Y/N decided to down drinks like a thirsty person. She was now in the middle of the dance floor making herself familiar with Lando's crotch, much to Max's dismay. He made his way to her and led her away from Lando while she shouted at him to let her go. They were now stood in the quieter part of the club but you could still hear the music blasting. Y/N looked visibly annoyed at being taken away from the dance floor. "You are drunk, you'll regret it tomorrow." Max said. "That's for sober me to deal with. Drunk me just wants to forget about everything and having an eventful night with a guy would do just the trick." she said. Max winced at the words and held her arms so that she could steady herself. "I don't wanna feel like this," was this the alcohol giving her the confidence, "the guy I've been in love with for ages can't seem to see me as a woman. I've been trying for years now. If I walked out naked, I'm sure he wouldn't even be phased." she sounded dejected. "Any guy would want you, Meisje." Max whispered. "But not the one I do" she stepped closer, enough that their breaths mingled. The woman in front of him was driving Max mad, had she not been drunk he would've shown her how much any man would want her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes before saying, "He's so dumb, can't even see the woman in front of him." The statement felt oddly targeted. "You know, he's a 3 time world drivers champion and he doesn't even get that I love him so much." she said while looking into his eyes. "You're in love with me?" Max exclaimed. "I have been since the day you let me make pigtails on your hair but thanks for realising now." she replied sarcastically. "You're drunk, you don't know what your saying" Max replied. "Well, sober me would never tell you this but I love you Max Verstappen. So much that you make my heart beat faster and my chest swell when you look at me. I think about marrying you and having a family with you, but you think I'm joking." she declared. Max couldn't help but smiled, "Tell me all of this in the morning when you're sober so that I can tell you that I love you too schat and then I can finally kiss you." "You can kiss me now" Y/N made a kissy face and eagerly leaned in. Max shook his head and carried her back to the hotel room.

Y/N indeed remembered everything and the first thing she did even though she wreaked of alcohol was finally kiss those soft pink lips.

this is just brain rot at this point. hope you liked it

[hisfavegirl]

Endless Devotion- Daemon Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary : Though the kingdom’s future was always at the forefront, it was the love between you and Daemon that would defy fate, a love that transcended the barriers of duty. The day you were born, the future had already been written for you, and yet, you and Daemon would challenge it with every breath you took, every moment you shared.

Daemon Masterlist.

You were the third child of Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa, born on a stormy night that claimed the lives of your mother and twin brother. The Maesters had whispered of your slim chances, but somehow, you survived—a fragile yet fierce reminder of the strength that ran in your blood.

Growing up, you were cherished by your father, Baelon, and doted on by your older brothers, Viserys and Daemon. The bond between the three of you was unbreakable, though it was clear that each of your brothers saw you in very different lights.

Viserys was gentle, the older brother who would read to you by the fire or braid your hair as you told him stories of your dreams. He had a natural inclination to protect you, a role he embraced as the future King of the Seven Kingdoms.

Daemon, however, was something else entirely. His affection was fierce, his attention constant. He was protective, yes, but also possessive. There was a sharp edge to his love for you, a depth that seemed to go beyond the bonds of mere siblings. Where others might have dismissed it as Daemon’s usual intensity, you could feel the weight of his gaze, the way his hand lingered on yours a moment too long, and the way his mood darkened whenever you spoke of marriage or suitors.

As you grew older, you noticed how Daemon’s attention never wavered. He always found excuses to be near you, whether it was accompanying you on dragon rides or sitting too close during family feasts. His words were often veiled with deeper meanings, and his actions spoke volumes he didn’t dare to put into words.

You loved both your brothers dearly, but with Daemon, there was an undeniable tension, a connection that made your heart race even when you wished it wouldn’t. You often found yourself questioning the nature of his affections and, more troublingly, your own.

As the years passed and the politics of the realm began to weigh on your family, Viserys took his place as heir to the Iron Throne, and Daemon’s restless spirit grew more pronounced. But no matter how far he roamed or how much chaos he caused, his attention always returned to you.

You couldn’t deny the warmth his presence brought or the way his protective nature made you feel safe, even as whispers in the court began to stir about the true nature of Prince Daemon’s feelings for his beloved sister.

The Throne room was heavy with tension as you stood beside Daemon, the newly crowned King Viserys sitting on the Iron Throne before you. His calm demeanor belied the storm brewing in the room. You glanced at your older brother, your heart heavy with uncertainty.

Viserys’s voice was steady, but there was a finality in his tone. “It is time to secure the future of our house, for the good of the realm. Daemon, you will marry Lady Rhea Royce of Runestone. The Vale is a strong ally, and this union will solidify our ties with them.”

Daemon stiffened beside you, his hands curling into fists. He shot Viserys a glare so intense it could have melted steel. “You expect me to marry her? A woman I have never met, with a temperament as cold as the mountains she comes from?” His voice was sharp, his disdain evident.

Viserys ignored his outburst and turned to you, his expression softening slightly. “And you, my sweet sister. Lord Jason Lannister has expressed interest in taking you as his wife. A match with the Westerlands will bring great strength and wealth to our house.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt the weight of Daemon’s gaze shift to you. His anger now burned hotter, directed at your eldest brother. “A Lannister? You would send her to Casterly Rock, to be a trophy for that pompous lion?” His voice grew louder, echoing through the hall.

Viserys’s expression hardened. “This is not a debate, Daemon. These matches are for the good of the realm, not for personal desires.”

“You mean your desires,” Daemon snapped, stepping forward, his anger barely restrained. “You sit on that throne and play the dutiful king, but you forget who we are. She is a Targaryen, not some pawn to be traded for gold and swords!”

You placed a hand on Daemon’s arm, trying to calm him, but his fury was like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. “Daemon,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Please.”

He turned to you, his face softening for a moment as he saw the uncertainty in your eyes. But when he looked back at Viserys, his rage reignited.

“If you think I will stand by and let this happen, you are mistaken,” Daemon growled, his voice low but menacing. “I will not let her be taken from me.”

Viserys rose from the throne, his patience thinning. “You will obey, Daemon. Both of you will. This is my decree as your king.”

Daemon’s lips curled into a bitter smile, his voice dripping with venom. “Then perhaps I am no longer fit to be your brother, if all I am to you is a sword to wield and a pawn to marry off.”

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the hall, leaving you standing there, torn between your loyalty to your eldest brother and the fiery love and devotion of the younger.

Viserys sighed heavily, his face a mixture of frustration and sadness. “He will come to understand, in time,” he said, as if trying to reassure himself more than you.

You stood your ground, your heart pounding as you faced Viserys, who had returned to his seat on the Iron Throne. His expression remained stern, but you could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he regarded you.

“Brother,” you began, your voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within you. “You must reconsider this decision. Daemon is not someone who will take this lightly, and you know it.”

Viserys exhaled sharply, leaning back against the cold iron of his throne. “You think I don’t understand Daemon? I’ve been dealing with his impulsiveness and defiance all my life. He will learn to obey, as we all must for the good of the realm.”

You stepped closer, your gaze unwavering. “You may think you understand him, but you do not see what I see. Daemon will not accept this. He will do whatever it takes to undo what you’ve decreed, and you know as well as I do that his methods are… dangerous.”

Viserys frowned, his fingers drumming against the armrest. “And what would you have me do, sister? Set aside what is best for the realm because of his temper? Because of his… feelings for you?”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, you hesitated. “This isn’t just about his feelings for me,” you said softly. “This is about preventing a fracture in our family—one that may be impossible to mend. Daemon’s anger is like a wildfire, and once it begins, it will burn everything in its path. Including you, including me… including the realm.”

Viserys looked at you, his expression softening ever so slightly. “You think I enjoy this? That I take pleasure in making decisions that hurt those I love? I must think of the greater good.”

“Then think of the consequences, Viserys,” you pressed. “Think of what Daemon might do. He is loyal to his family, yes, but his loyalty to me is stronger than any bond you could force upon him with a marriage to Rhea Royce. And if you send me to Casterly Rock… you will lose him. Completely.”

Viserys rubbed his temple, weariness etched into his features. “Daemon must learn to control himself, and so must you. I cannot rule with my heart alone, sister.”

“You must rule with wisdom,” you countered. “And wisdom means understanding the consequences of your actions. I am begging you, Viserys. Think this through before it is too late.”

For a long moment, silence hung between you. Viserys seemed to weigh your words carefully, his gaze searching yours for answers. Finally, he spoke, his voice heavy.

“I will consider it,” he said, though the exhaustion in his tone betrayed his uncertainty. “But know this, sister—whatever happens, I will do what I believe is best for House Targaryen.”

You nodded, though your heart remained heavy with doubt. As you left the throne room, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over—and that Daemon’s reaction to all of this would shape your family’s future in ways none of you could yet foresee.

You made your way to the training grounds, where the sound of clashing steel and labored breathing filled the air. Your eyes immediately found Daemon, his silver hair damp with sweat as he ruthlessly swung his sword at a weary guard. The poor man could barely keep up, his shield trembling under the relentless force of Daemon’s strikes.

“Daemon!” you called out, your voice cutting through the din.

He didn’t stop. His sword continued its brutal arc, forcing the guard back until the man stumbled and fell to one knee. You took a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Daemon, that’s enough!”

Still, he ignored you, his focus fixed on his opponent. The guard, clearly terrified, raised his hands in surrender, his weapon slipping from his grasp. Daemon sneered but finally lowered his sword, stepping back as the man scrambled to his feet and fled the training yard.

Daemon turned to face you, his expression cold and furious, his chest heaving. His violet eyes burned with anger, though whether it was directed at you or someone else, you couldn’t tell.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice low but sharp. “Go back to Viserys if you’re here to plead his case.”

You stepped closer, refusing to be intimidated. “I’m not here for Viserys. I’m here for you.”

He scoffed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “What do you want, sister? To tell me to fall in line? To bow to his commands like a dutiful dog?”

“No,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I’m here because I know you. I know how angry you are, and I know what you’re capable of when you feel cornered.”

His jaw tightened, and he turned away, gripping his sword so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Then you should also know that I won’t sit by while he takes everything from me.”

“You think this is about taking from you?” you demanded, stepping closer. “Daemon, this isn’t just about us. This is about the realm, about alliances, about keeping peace.”

He turned back to you, his eyes blazing. “To hell with the realm! To hell with alliances and peace! You are my sister, my blood, and I will not stand by while he gives you to some Lannister!”

“Daemon,” you said softly, your voice breaking slightly. “I don’t want this any more than you do. But if you do something reckless, if you act out of anger, it will only make things worse. For both of us.”

For a moment, his anger faltered, replaced by something raw and vulnerable. He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to cup your face gently. “I cannot lose you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I won’t.”

You placed your hand over his, your heart aching at the desperation in his words. “You won’t lose me, Daemon. But we have to be smart about this. We can’t fight Viserys on this—not like this.”

His gaze searched yours, his anger giving way to a deep, simmering frustration. Finally, he sighed and stepped back, letting his hand fall to his side.

“Then tell me what to do,” he said, his voice quieter now but still tinged with defiance. “Tell me how to fix this without losing you.”

You hesitated, unsure of what to say. But one thing was clear—you would have to tread carefully if you wanted to protect both Daemon and yourself from the storm brewing around you.

You grabbed Daemon’s hand, pulling him forcefully away from the training yard. He resisted slightly, his voice sharp with frustration.

“Where are we going?” he demanded, his tone laced with irritation.

You didn’t answer, your grip tightening as you led him through the winding corridors of the Red Keep. He huffed behind you but didn’t pull away, his curiosity piqued by your determination.

Finally, you arrived at the council chambers where Viserys was still seated, reviewing documents and speaking with an advisor. He looked up as the door swung open, surprise flashing across his face as he saw you enter with Daemon in tow.

“Leave us,” you commanded, your voice steady and firm.

Viserys frowned but waved his advisor away. The room emptied quickly, leaving the three of you alone. He set his quill down and folded his hands, his expression expectant. “What is the meaning of this?”

You stepped forward, releasing Daemon’s hand but keeping him close by your side.

“You call yourself a king of fairness and justice,” you began, your voice steady but tinged with anger. “Yet you would take from us the right you claimed for yourself.”

Viserys raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in his chair. “And what right is that?”

“The right to marry the one you love,” you said sharply. “You chose Aemma, a woman you cared for deeply, despite the fact that the match was orchestrated by our grandfather. You didn’t resist it, not because it was your duty, but because it was what you wanted. And now you sit here, dictating our futures without a care for what we want.”

Viserys’s gaze hardened. “It is my duty as king to secure alliances for House Targaryen. Aemma was a choice that benefited the realm, as are these marriages I’ve proposed.”

Daemon stepped forward, his voice low and laced with anger. “Aemma was no mere alliance to you. She was your love, your comfort. Do not twist the truth to suit your decisions now, brother.”

You glanced at Daemon, grateful for his support, before turning your focus back to Viserys. “We are not pawns to be moved on your board, Viserys. We are your family. Your blood. Do not expect us to accept this without question.”

Viserys’s jaw tightened, his frustration evident. “And what would you have me do? Allow you to marry whomever you please, damn the consequences for our house?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, your voice unwavering. “If it was acceptable for you, why not for us? Do you fear that granting us the same freedom will make you appear weak? Or do you fear that we will make choices that do not align with your vision of the future?”

For a moment, the room fell silent, the tension between the three of you palpable. Viserys stared at you, his expression unreadable, before his gaze shifted to Daemon, who was watching him with barely concealed disdain.

Finally, Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. “You speak boldly, sister, but you fail to understand the weight of a crown. The realm demands sacrifices, and those sacrifices often begin with us.”

Daemon scoffed, his tone biting. “Spare us the lecture, brother. You made your sacrifices with Aemma, but they were sacrifices you were willing to make. Do not expect the same from us when you refuse to acknowledge our desires.”

Viserys hesitated, the weight of your words clearly affecting him. He looked at you again, his gaze softer now, though still conflicted. “And what do you propose, sister? That I abandon my plans entirely?”

“I propose that you listen,” you replied, stepping closer. “Listen to us, to what we want, and find a solution that benefits everyone. You owe us that much, at least.”

Viserys leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful but strained. “I will consider it,” he said finally, though his tone lacked certainty.

It wasn’t the answer you wanted, but it was enough for now. You turned to leave, Daemon following close behind, his steps heavy with frustration.

“Do you truly think he’ll change his mind?” Daemon asked as you walked down the corridor.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing at him. “But I had to try. For both our sakes.”

He was silent for a moment, then reached out to gently squeeze your hand. “If he doesn’t, I’ll find another way. I won’t let him take you from me.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but you said nothing, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of you as you continued walking together through the shadowed halls of the Red Keep.

You and Daemon walked together through the halls of the Red Keep, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. The weight of your conversation with Viserys bore down on your shoulders, leaving you feeling drained and uncertain.

You glanced at Daemon, his expression unreadable as he walked beside you. Though his face betrayed little, you knew him well enough to sense the storm of emotions brewing within him.

“I love him, you know,” you said softly, breaking the silence. Your voice wavered slightly, but you kept your gaze forward.

Daemon stopped walking, forcing you to halt as well. He turned to face you, his silver hair catching the faint light from the torches lining the walls.

“I know,” he replied, his tone low but steady. “You’ve always loved Viserys. Just as you’ve always loved me.”

You swallowed hard, your heart tightening at the truth of his words. “But it’s not the same,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes softened, the anger and frustration from earlier giving way to something deeper—something raw and vulnerable.

“I’ve always known that too,” he said, stepping closer to you. “And I’ve never cared. Because I know you, just as you know me. You don’t want to lose him, but you’re terrified of losing me.”

You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t want to lose either of you,” you whispered.

Daemon reached out, his fingers brushing against yours before taking your hand firmly in his. “You won’t lose me,” he said, his voice firm. “No matter what happens. Viserys can scheme and command all he likes, but I will not let him separate us.”

His words sent a wave of relief through you, though the fear still lingered. You knew how determined Viserys could be, and you knew the lengths Daemon would go to defy him.

“You promise?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

He tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I promise,” he said, his tone carrying that familiar hint of mischief. “Even if I have to burn the realm to the ground, I will not lose you.”

You let out a shaky laugh, his words both comforting and unsettling. But that was Daemon—wild, unpredictable, and fiercely loyal to those he loved.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you said, squeezing his hand.

He chuckled softly, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “With Viserys as king, it just might.”

The two of you resumed walking, the tension between you eased but not entirely gone. You didn’t know what the future held, but as long as Daemon was by your side, you felt a flicker of hope amidst the uncertainty.

Two days had passed since your conversation with Viserys, and in those two days, the weight of his decision loomed over you like a storm cloud. Despite the pressure, you and Daemon continued to find solace in each other, meeting in secret within your chambers or his, navigating the hidden paths of Maegor’s Holdfast with the ease of familiarity.

This morning, however, was different. A summons had come from Viserys, commanding both you and Daemon to meet him in the council chamber. The air was heavy with anticipation as you and Daemon walked side by side through the Red Keep, the silence between you filled with unspoken thoughts.

When you entered the chamber, Viserys was already seated at the head of the table. His expression was stern but not unkind, and you noticed a hint of weariness in his eyes. The room was empty save for the three of you, the absence of the councilors adding to the tension.

Viserys gestured for you both to approach, and as you stepped forward, he sighed deeply, his hands resting on the arms of his chair.

“I’ve thought long and hard about this,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with exhaustion. “And I’ve come to a decision.”

You exchanged a glance with Daemon, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I was wrong to try to dictate your futures without considering your wishes,” Viserys admitted, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You were right, sister. I made my choice with Aemma, and it was a choice I was fortunate to have. You and Daemon deserve the same.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his words sinking in.

“I’ve informed House Lannister and House Royce that the arrangements have been canceled,” Viserys continued, his tone firm. “You will marry each other, as you both clearly desire. I only hope this decision brings you happiness and strengthens our house.”

Daemon let out a quiet laugh, the sound laced with relief and triumph. “You’ve finally seen reason, brother,” he said, his smirk unmistakable.

Viserys shot him a pointed look but didn’t argue. Instead, he turned back to you, his expression softening further. “I only ask one thing of you both,” he said.

“What is it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Do not let your love for each other blind you to the responsibilities you bear as members of House Targaryen,” he said. “The realm looks to us for guidance, for strength. Be each other’s strength, but never forget the weight of the crown.”

You nodded, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Thank you, Viserys. I promise we will honor our house and our family.”

Daemon’s hand found yours, his grip firm and reassuring. “You have my word as well, brother,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

Viserys smiled faintly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Then it is settled. The preparations will begin at once.”

As you and Daemon left the chamber, the reality of what had just transpired began to sink in. For the first time in days, you felt a sense of hope and relief, the weight of uncertainty lifted from your shoulders.

Daemon turned to you, his smirk returning as he leaned closer. “It seems the gods favor us after all,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You laughed softly, your heart light for the first time in what felt like forever. “Perhaps they do,” you replied, your hand tightening around his.

As the two of you walked through the halls together, you couldn’t help but feel that this was the beginning of something extraordinary—a union born not of duty, but of love and unyielding loyalty.

You laughed uncontrollably as Daemon suddenly lifted you off the ground, throwing you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.

“Daemon! Put me down this instant!” you demanded, half-laughing, half-protesting, as you squirmed in his grip.

He only chuckled, his voice rich with amusement. “Not a chance, sweet sister. A betrothal like ours deserves to be celebrated.”

“Celebrated? By making a spectacle of me?” you shot back, still laughing as he carried you with effortless confidence.

“Precisely,” he replied smugly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Daemon strode confidently to where his horse was waiting. Setting you down briefly, he helped you into the saddle before mounting behind you, his arms resting comfortably around your waist as he took the reins.

“And where exactly are we going?” you asked, trying to sound annoyed, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips.

“To the Dragonpit,” Daemon replied, urging the horse forward.

“The Dragonpit?” you repeated, your curiosity piqued.

He grinned, leaning closer to your ear. “Caraxes and Maraxes deserve to know about our betrothal, don’t you think?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of your dragon, Maraxes, and Daemon’s Caraxes. The two dragons had always shared a bond, much like their riders.

The ride through the bustling streets of King’s Landing was exhilarating, Daemon’s confidence radiating behind you. His presence was as steady as the rhythm of the horse’s hooves, and you found yourself leaning into him slightly, the excitement of the moment overtaking your initial protests.

When you arrived at the Dragonpit, the cavernous structure loomed before you, filled with the faint echoes of dragon growls. Daemon dismounted first, his hands quick to help you down.

Inside, the air was thick with heat and the unmistakable energy of dragons. You immediately spotted the familiar forms of Caraxes and Maraxes, their red and silver scales gleaming faintly in the dim light.

Daemon smirked as Caraxes let out a low growl, his serpentine neck arching toward his rider. “There’s my boy,” he murmured, stepping closer to greet his dragon.

Meanwhile, Maraxes let out a low rumble of recognition, her sharp eyes locking onto you. You approached her with a smile, placing a hand on her warm scales. "Hi my love," The bond between you and your dragon was as strong as ever, a connection forged over years of shared battles and flights.

“Do you think they approve?” you asked, glancing at Daemon as he ran a hand along Caraxes’ neck.

He smirked, his eyes glinting with that familiar mischief. “They’ll have to. They’re bound to each other, just like we are.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his audacity, though his words carried a truth you couldn’t deny. Standing there together with your dragons, it felt as if the world had aligned perfectly for this moment—a celebration not just of your betrothal, but of the bond you shared, one that had always felt inevitable.

You watched the Dragonkeeper closely, noting the concern in their eyes as they observed Caraxes and Maraxes. One of them, a young man who had worked with dragons for years, hesitated before speaking.

“Maraxes and Caraxes have been acting out recently,” he said, voice low. “They’ve been more aggressive than usual, particularly Maraxes. We thought something was wrong.”

The other Dragonkeeper, an older woman, nodded in agreement. “It’s unlike them. We’ve been keeping a close eye, but nothing we do seems to settle them.”

You exchanged a glance with Daemon, who stood quietly beside you. The air around them felt thick with the dragons’ restlessness. However, as the Dragonkeepers’ gazes shifted toward you and Daemon, their expressions shifted from concern to shock.

Maraxes, normally a force of nature, moved with an uncharacteristic calmness. She stepped forward slowly, lowering her massive head toward you. Then, in an almost deliberate motion, she nudged you gently, pushing your body toward the area where she and Caraxes slept. It was a soft nudge, but it was clear that she wanted you to follow.

“Maraxes…” you murmured in surprise, but you allowed the dragon to guide you. You took a cautious step forward, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you. Daemon followed close behind, a knowing look in his eyes.

As you reached the resting place of your dragons, your breath caught in your throat. There, nestled among the bedding of fireproofed hay and soft stone, lay four dragon eggs.

The sight of the eggs made your heart skip a beat. You knelt slowly, reaching out with trembling fingers. The eggs were large, their shells shimmering with an iridescent glow, a mixture of deep reds and silvers that mirrored the colors of Maraxes and Caraxes.

Daemon stood behind you, his eyes softening as he spoke. “This… explains everything,” he murmured. “They’ve been guarding these. Their aggression, their restlessness—it was to protect their future.”

You felt a rush of emotions—pride, awe, and a profound sense of connection. The change in Maraxes and Caraxes was not just a random shift in their behavior; they had been preparing for something, something bigger than the two of you had expected.

“I didn’t know…” you whispered, your fingers tracing the smooth surface of one of the eggs. “They were expecting.”

Daemon moved to stand beside you, his voice low and reverent. “Neither did I. But it makes sense now. They’ve been waiting for their offspring. They’ve always been protective, but now… this is their legacy.”

The Dragonkeeper, who had been watching in stunned silence, finally spoke. “It’s extraordinary. The dragons have chosen to trust you both in ways we never imagined. Not only are they accepting of you as their riders, but now, they’ve given you their future.”

You felt a sense of awe wash over you, realizing that this moment was more significant than anything you could have imagined. Caraxes and Maraxes were not just dragons bound to their riders—they were family, and they were passing on their legacy to you.

Daemon placed a hand on your shoulder, his gaze intense but filled with something softer, something deeper. “This is just the beginning, my love. We have something far greater ahead of us now.”

You nodded, the weight of the moment settling in. You had always known that your bond with Daemon and the dragons was something extraordinary, but now, you understood just how much more it truly was.

The eggs lay there, waiting, as if the dragons were telling you both that they were ready for this next chapter—to share their legacy, their power, and their future with you.

After returning to the Red Keep with Daemon from the Dragonpit, the exhilaration of discovering the dragon eggs still lingered in your mind. As you made your way through the corridors, a servant approached and informed you that Queen Aemma had requested your presence in her chambers.

You exchanged a glance with Daemon, who smirked slightly. “Go on,” he said, his tone teasing. “I’m sure she’s been planning our wedding more than we have.”

Rolling your eyes but smiling softly, you left Daemon and made your way to Aemma’s chambers. When you entered, you found her seated near the window, her delicate hands working on a piece of embroidery. The golden light of the setting sun bathed the room in a warm glow, and she looked up with a gentle smile as you approached.

“There you are,” she said warmly, setting aside her work. “I was beginning to think I’d have to send someone to drag you here.”

You laughed softly and took a seat across from her. “I was at the Dragonpit with Daemon,” you explained. “But I came as soon as I heard you wanted to see me.”

Aemma’s smile widened, but there was a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “Ah, Daemon. I suppose he’s too busy parading you around on dragonback to think about the details of your wedding.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, feeling a sense of comfort in Aemma’s presence. She had always been kind and supportive, treating you more like a sister than just her sister-in-law.

“I thought we could discuss the arrangements,” Aemma continued, her tone softening. “Your gown, the feast, the decorations… all the things that men don’t think about.”

You nodded, grateful for her guidance. “I’d appreciate that, Aemma. I’ve hardly had time to think about any of it.”

She reached for a small chest beside her and opened it, revealing swatches of fabric in various shades and textures. “I had these brought in for you,” she said, holding up a piece of silvery fabric that shimmered in the light. “I thought this might suit you—something that reflects your connection to your dragon and your Targaryen heritage.”

You ran your fingers over the fabric, marveling at its softness and beauty. “It’s perfect,” you said, already envisioning the gown that would be made from it.

Aemma smiled, her expression thoughtful. “You’ll look radiant,” she said. “And I know Daemon won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

The warmth in her voice made your heart swell, and you reached out to squeeze her hand. “Thank you, Aemma. For everything.”

She squeezed your hand in return, her gaze steady and full of affection. “You’re family,” she said simply. “And you deserve to be happy.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and planning as you and Aemma discussed every detail of the wedding. For the first time in days, you felt a sense of peace, knowing that you were surrounded by love and support as you prepared for this new chapter in your life.

As you opened the door to your chambers, the familiar warmth of the room greeted you, along with the sight of Daemon standing near the fireplace. The golden glow of the flames reflected off his silver hair, giving him an almost ethereal presence. His arms were crossed casually over his chest, but there was an intensity in his gaze as he turned to face you.

“You’re here,” you said, raising an eyebrow as you approached. “I expected you to be… elsewhere. At the brothel, perhaps, celebrating your last night of freedom with Mysaria.” Your tone was teasing, but there was an edge of curiosity beneath it.

Daemon chuckled, the sound low and rich, as he stepped closer to you. “Is that what you think of me?” he asked, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Is it not true?” you countered, tilting your head. “You’ve always been so fond of such places. Why not indulge one last time before you can’t go back without consequences?”

He laughed again, this time louder, and shook his head. “You’re sharper than a Valyrian steel blade, aren’t you?” he said, his voice tinged with amusement. “But no. I haven’t set foot in a brothel—or seen Mysaria—since you came of age.”

That caught you off guard. You stared at him, trying to process his words. “What?”

Daemon stepped even closer, his expression softening as he looked down at you. “Do you really think I’d waste my time there, knowing what I know now? After realizing how much of myself I gave to the wrong people, the wrong pursuits?”

You blinked, still trying to make sense of his words. “What are you saying, Daemon?”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch was gentle, but his gaze was anything but—it was intense, almost searing. “I’m saying that for too long, I gave my attention to the wrong women. Women who didn’t matter. Because I was too blind to see what was right in front of me.”

Your breath caught, your heart pounding in your chest. “Daemon…”

He smiled then, a rare, genuine smile that softened his features. “You’ve always been the only one who mattered,” he said softly. “And I’m not going to waste another moment pretending otherwise.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, you could only stare at him, your emotions a whirlwind of disbelief, hope, and something far deeper.

“Then why are you here?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “If not to celebrate your last night of freedom?”

Daemon’s smile turned into a smirk as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Because I’m not losing my freedom,” he murmured. “I’m gaining you.”

The fire crackled softly in the background as his words hung in the air, and for the first time, you realized just how much this marriage meant—not just to you, but to him as well.

Daemon’s gaze softened as your hand gently caressed his cheek, your touch tender and full of unspoken emotions. His lips parted slightly as if to say something, but before he could, you rose onto your toes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

For a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you. When you finally pulled back, your eyes met his, a quiet intensity passing between you.

“I’m lucky to have you, Daemon,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The raw honesty in your tone made his jaw tighten, though his eyes glimmered with something vulnerable.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you continued before he could, your hand still cradling his cheek. “If our father were still here…” you paused, a pang of sorrow in your chest, “he’d be proud of us. Of you, especially.”

Daemon’s expression faltered for a moment, his confident facade cracking as he absorbed your words. His hand came up to cover yours on his face, his touch warm and steady. “You truly believe that?” he asked softly, his voice almost uncertain, as if he needed to hear the answer more than anything else.

You nodded, your thumb brushing against his cheekbone. “I do. He would have seen the man you’ve become—the man who fights for what he wants, who protects those he loves. He’d be proud of you, Daemon. Just as I am.”

Daemon exhaled deeply, his forehead leaning against yours. “You give me too much credit,” he muttered, though there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Not nearly enough,” you countered gently, your own lips curving into a smile.

For a long moment, the two of you stood there, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence, the flickering firelight casting soft shadows around the room. It was a moment of quiet understanding, a bond stronger than any words could convey.

And in that moment, you knew—no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had each other, you could face anything.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence near the window of your chambers, the cool night air filtering in as stars scattered across the dark sky. Daemon’s arm was wrapped possessively around your waist, his grip firm yet comforting. Your head rested against his shoulder, and the steady rise and fall of his chest matched the rhythm of your own breathing.

He broke the silence, his voice low and curious. “Why did you name your dragon Maraxes?”

The question made you smile softly as you turned your gaze toward him. He was looking down at you with a mixture of curiosity and fondness, his fingers absentmindedly tracing small circles on your side.

“She reminded me of Rhaenys’ Maraxes,” you said after a moment, your tone thoughtful. “The strength, the grace… Even as a hatchling, she carried herself like she knew she was born to be something great.”

Daemon smirked faintly, his eyes reflecting the dim glow of the moonlight. “And you always did have a penchant for the stories of our ancestors. I remember how you’d make me read them to you when we were younger.”

You chuckled, leaning further into his warmth. “Those stories are part of who we are, Daemon. Rhaenys and Maraxes… they were a force to be reckoned with. I wanted my dragon to carry that legacy, to remind the world of the power our family holds.”

He tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your temple as he spoke. “Maraxes suits her, just as you suit her. Both proud, unyielding, and utterly impossible to ignore.”

You laughed quietly, a soft blush creeping into your cheeks. “And what of Caraxes?” you asked, glancing up at him with a teasing smile. “He’s as wild and unpredictable as his rider.”

Daemon grinned, unbothered by your playful jab. “Caraxes and I understand each other,” he replied. “We don’t need names steeped in history. We make our own.”

Your smile softened as you looked back at the sky. “That’s why we work, Daemon. I carry the weight of the past, and you carve the path for the future. Together, we balance each other.”

Daemon didn’t respond immediately, but the way he held you tighter said everything. In his embrace, you felt the promise of a shared destiny—one that neither history nor the future could take away.

Your wedding day was meant to be perfect, and every detail had been meticulously planned. Yet, the air was thick with tension as a heated argument unfolded between Daemon and Viserys.

Daemon stood firm, his voice sharp and unyielding. “We are Targaryens. The blood of Old Valyria flows through our veins. This wedding should honor our ancestors with an Old Valyrian ceremony.”

Viserys, seated on the Iron Throne, was equally resolute. “This is a union that will be celebrated across the Seven Kingdoms. You will marry in the sight of the Seven, as is tradition.”

You stood silently between them, your heart heavy as you watched your brothers clash. Daemon’s jaw was set in frustration, while Viserys exuded the authority of a king determined to have his way.

“I’ve allowed this match to proceed,” Viserys added, his tone sharp with warning. “But do not mistake my indulgence for weakness. If you insist on this foolishness, I’ll put an end to it. Daemon will wed Rhea Royce, and you will wed Jason Lannister.”

The room fell silent, the weight of Viserys’ threat sinking in. You looked at Daemon, whose expression was a mix of fury and disbelief. His hands clenched at his sides, and you knew he was moments away from saying something he would regret.

Before he could speak, you stepped forward, your voice calm but firm. “We will marry in the sight of the Seven,” you said, your words directed at Viserys but meant for Daemon as well.

Daemon turned to you, his eyes searching yours for an explanation. You met his gaze with quiet determination, silently pleading for his understanding.

“This is about more than just us,” you continued, your voice steady despite the turmoil in your heart. “A wedding in the tradition of the Seven will solidify our union in the eyes of the realm. It will bring stability, which is what we need most right now.”

Daemon’s jaw tightened, his frustration evident, but he said nothing. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “It doesn’t matter how we marry, Daemon. What matters is that we will be together.”

Viserys nodded approvingly, his stern expression softening slightly. “It’s good to see one of you understands the bigger picture,” he said, his tone dismissive.

Daemon didn’t respond to Viserys. Instead, he turned to you, his violet eyes filled with unspoken words. After a moment, he gave a curt nod, his hand brushing against yours in a silent promise.

As you left the throne room together, you whispered, “Thank you for trusting me.”

Daemon’s lips curved into a small, wry smile. “You’re lucky I love you,” he muttered.

Despite the tension, his words warmed your heart. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you would face them together.

You entered Aemma’s chambers, the faint scent of lavender filling the air as sunlight streamed through the windows. She stood near a mannequin, admiring a breathtaking white gown made of the finest silk. Her face lit up as she saw you approach, her hands clasped together in excitement.

“There you are,” Aemma said warmly, gesturing for you to come closer. “I’ve had this gown specially made for you. I want your wedding to outshine even mine.”

You stared at the gown in awe. The intricate embroidery shimmered in the light, delicate patterns of dragons and fire adorning the fabric. The train was long and flowing, a masterpiece of craftsmanship, while the fitted bodice sparkled with tiny gemstones.

“You’ll be the most beautiful bride the realm has ever seen,” Aemma said, her voice filled with determination. “This wedding will be the grandest of all, as it should be.”

You smiled softly, touched by her efforts. “You didn’t have to go to such lengths, Aemma.”

“Nonsense,” she replied, waving her hand dismissively. “You’re my sister now, and this is the happiest I’ve seen Daemon in years. This marriage is a celebration not just for you, but for the family.”

She guided you to stand before the gown, motioning for her handmaidens to help you try it on. The silk felt cool against your skin as the dress was carefully draped over you. Aemma adjusted the neckline, stepping back to admire her work.

“You look perfect,” she said, her eyes glistening with pride.

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, the sight taking your breath away. The gown fit you like it was made for you alone, the shimmering silk enhancing your natural beauty.

“I hope Daemon doesn’t cause trouble just so he can get a glimpse of you before the wedding,” Aemma teased, a playful smile on her lips. “He’s been restless ever since Viserys gave his approval. He might just break tradition.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “He’s always been impatient.”

Aemma took your hands, squeezing them gently. “I want you to know how happy I am for you,” she said, her voice soft with emotion. “You and Daemon… you belong together. This wedding will mark the beginning of something truly beautiful.”

Tears threatened to well in your eyes, but you blinked them away, nodding. “Thank you, Aemma. For everything.”

She smiled, pulling you into a warm embrace. In that moment, you felt the love and support of family surrounding you, giving you strength for the journey ahead.

After trying on the gown Aemma had prepared for you, you made your way to the throne room, which was abuzz with preparations for your fast-approaching wedding. Servants scurried about, setting up tables and arranging decorations with meticulous care. The banners of House Targaryen hung proudly from the walls, their red and black sigils casting a regal presence over the space.

You paused, taking it all in—the grandeur, the anticipation. This was more than just a wedding; it was a union that would be remembered for generations.

As you stood there, lost in thought, you felt a familiar warmth at your back. Daemon’s hands slid gently around your waist, his touch both possessive and comforting. He leaned in close, his breath brushing against your ear.

“I’ve seen you in your gown,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. “And I can already tell they’ll speak of your beauty for centuries.”

You turned your head slightly, catching his smirk from the corner of your eye. “You couldn’t wait, could you?” you replied, a mix of amusement and exasperation in your tone.

“Patience was never one of my virtues,” he admitted, his arms tightening around you. “But it’s not just the dress. It’s you. I’m not sure the Seven or even the old gods could have made something more perfect.”

You felt your cheeks flush, but you quickly composed yourself, glancing at the bustling preparations before you. “Everything is coming together,” you said softly. “It feels… surreal.”

Daemon shifted slightly, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder. “It’s fitting, isn’t it?” he said, his voice softer now. “A grand celebration for us. For what we are and what we will build together.”

You turned in his arms to face him, your eyes meeting his. “And what is that, Daemon?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“A legacy,” he replied without hesitation. “A bond stronger than dragonfire, one that no one—not even Viserys—can break.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the chaos around you seemed to fade away. All that remained was him, and the unyielding certainty in his gaze.

“Come,” he said suddenly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ve grown tired of watching others make preparations. Let’s see to the dragons instead. Let them know that soon, we’ll be joined as one.”

You couldn’t help but smile, allowing him to guide you away from the bustling throne room. As always, with Daemon by your side, the future felt both thrilling and inevitable.

You gently patted Maraxes’ powerful back, feeling the familiar warmth of her scales beneath your hand. The wind whipped through your hair as you soared high above the Red Keep, the world below appearing as small as a map laid out on a table.

Beside you, Daemon and Caraxes raced ahead, the Blood Wyrm’s elongated form slicing through the clouds with ease. Caraxes let out a piercing roar, its cry challenging the skies themselves.

Maraxes, not one to be outdone, responded with a thunderous roar of her own, her wings beating harder as she surged forward. You gripped her saddle tightly, leaning closer to her neck to encourage her.

“Show them, Maraxes,” you murmured with a grin, the thrill of the flight coursing through you. “Show them what you’re made of.”

With a sudden burst of speed, Maraxes lunged forward, her massive wings cutting through the air with precision. The distance between you and Daemon began to close rapidly.

Daemon glanced back, his silver hair shining under the sun, and you caught the smug smirk on his face falter as Maraxes closed in.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” you called out, your voice carrying over the roar of the wind.

He laughed, the sound carried to you by the wind. “Careful, my love,” he replied, steering Caraxes into a sharp dive. “I’d hate for you to lose your nerve.”

But you didn’t falter. Maraxes followed Caraxes’ lead, diving with grace and speed that rivaled even the most seasoned dragons. The ground rushed toward you, but you trusted her completely.

As you leveled out beside Daemon once more, the two dragons roared in unison, their voices blending into a symphony of power and dominance. You and Daemon exchanged a glance, the exhilaration of the ride mirrored in his eyes.

“Maraxes is a true queen,” he said, his tone filled with pride.

“And Caraxes a worthy prince,” you replied with a playful smirk.

Together, you guided your dragons into a synchronized ascent, their forms weaving through the sky like a dance. In that moment, it wasn’t just the bond between you and Daemon that felt unbreakable—it was the connection you shared with your dragons, the legacy you were creating together, and the love that burned as fiercely as dragonfire.

You dismounted Maraxes with practiced ease, patting her side gently as she let out a low, satisfied growl. You turned toward Daemon, who had already slid off Caraxes and was approaching you with a small smirk on his face.

The two dragons, seemingly understanding their riders had finished their flight, began to walk together toward the Dragonpit. Their massive tails swayed lazily as they moved side by side, a rare display of harmony between the two fierce creatures.

Daemon’s attention, however, was solely on you. His sharp violet eyes took in your slightly disheveled appearance, a teasing glint in them. Without saying a word, he reached out and gently tucked a strand of your hair back into place, his touch lingering for just a moment.

“You look as if you’ve just fought in a battle,” he said, his voice warm with amusement.

You laughed softly, brushing dirt from your sleeve. “Flying with Maraxes always feels like a battle—she doesn’t let me relax for even a moment.”

Daemon grinned, his gaze flickering to the retreating forms of the dragons. “She’s a reflection of her rider, then. Stubborn, relentless, and utterly magnificent.”

You rolled your eyes at his words but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your lips. “And what does that say about Caraxes, then?”

“Loyal, fierce, and just unpredictable enough to keep things interesting,” he replied smoothly, his grin widening.

Shaking your head, you allowed him to help you onto his black horse, a sleek and well-bred creature that always seemed to mirror its master’s confidence. Once you were comfortably seated, he climbed on behind you, wrapping an arm securely around your waist.

The ride back to the Red Keep was peaceful, the rhythmic clatter of the horse’s hooves filling the quiet between you. Daemon’s hold on you was firm yet comforting, and as the walls of the castle came into view, you leaned back slightly into him, finding solace in his presence.

“You know,” he murmured near your ear, breaking the silence, “this is how it should always be. You, me, and the dragons.”

You tilted your head slightly to glance back at him. “And what of the world that waits for us within those walls?”

Daemon’s lips curved into a wry smile. “Let the world wait. For now, it’s just us.”

His words settled over you like a warm blanket, and as you passed through the gates of the Red Keep, you couldn’t help but wish that this moment could stretch on forever.

The day of your wedding had finally arrived, and your chambers were bustling with activity even before the first rays of sunlight graced the horizon. Aemma, ever the perfectionist, had gathered her trusted ladies-in-waiting to ensure every detail of your preparation was flawless.

You sat before a large mirror, dressed in the finest silk undergarments, as one of the maids carefully wove intricate braids into your hair. Aemma hovered nearby, her sharp eyes inspecting every detail, from the embroidery on your gown to the gleaming jewelry laid out on the table.

“This will be the grandest wedding the realm has seen,” Aemma declared with confidence, adjusting the tiara that would soon rest on your head. “You will be the vision of perfection, as you deserve to be.”

You gave her a soft smile, but your attention was pulled elsewhere. From the corner of your eye, you could see the faint outline of Daemon standing behind the sheer curtain at the far end of the room. His unmistakable figure was partially hidden, but you could hear the faintest sound of his chuckle.

You turned slightly in your chair, catching the amused glint in his violet eyes through the thin fabric. “Daemon,” you said firmly, though your lips quirked into a knowing smile, “you’re not supposed to see me before the ceremony.”

His voice came through, low and teasing. “I’m only ensuring my bride is being treated properly. Wouldn’t want them to dull your shine before the day even begins.”

Aemma turned toward the sound, her face a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Daemon, you’re being ridiculous. Out!” she scolded, waving a hand toward the curtain.

He only laughed softly, his silhouette lingering for a moment longer. “I’ll see you soon,” he murmured, his tone laced with a promise, before retreating out of sight.

You shook your head, warmth blossoming in your chest despite yourself. Aemma returned her attention to you, adjusting the intricate neckline of your wedding gown with care.

“He adores you,” she said softly, her expression unexpectedly tender.

You met her gaze in the mirror, a quiet smile tugging at your lips. “And I, him.”

Aemma’s smile deepened, and she patted your shoulder gently. “Good. Now, let’s ensure you’re ready to take his breath away.”

You were fully prepared, dressed in the stunning gown Aemma had so carefully designed, every detail perfect. Now, it was Viserys who stood by your side in the carriage as you made your way to the Sept.

The ride was quiet, the clattering of the wheels over the stone streets filling the silence. Viserys sat across from you, his face soft yet tinged with a sadness he couldn’t entirely hide. His violet eyes lingered on you, taking in the serene expression on your face and the subtle joy radiating from you.

“You look… just like Mother,” he finally said, his voice low and thoughtful. “She would have been so proud to see you like this.”

You glanced at him, touched by his words. “And Father?” you asked gently.

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Father would’ve been furious that you were grown enough to marry,” he replied, his tone lightening. “But he’d have been proud, too. Proud of you and of the match you’ve made.”

The mention of Daemon brought a new look to his face—one of conflicted fondness. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. “You and Daemon… You’ve always been inseparable. I only hope this union will bring you happiness, as much as it does the realm.”

You smiled softly, your fingers lightly brushing over the delicate fabric of your gown. “Daemon and I will do our duty, but this marriage is not just for the realm. It is for us.”

Viserys’ gaze softened further. “You and Daemon, happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for either of you.”

As the carriage approached the Sept, you caught a glimpse of the banners of House Targaryen flying high, the crowds gathering to witness the union.

Viserys reached out and placed a reassuring hand over yours. “The realm will celebrate today, but remember, this is your moment. Take it, and let no one tell you otherwise.”

You nodded, your heart steady with resolve. Today, you would not just be a bride but a queen of your own destiny, standing beside the man who had always been your closest confidant and deepest love.

You walked gracefully down the aisle, your arm linked with Viserys’. The grand Sept was filled with lords, ladies, and knights from across the realm, all gathered to witness the union. The light from the stained-glass windows painted the room in hues of gold and red, illuminating the Targaryen banners that hung proudly from the high arches.

At the altar stood Daemon, his usual air of confidence softened by the rare, genuine smile gracing his lips as he watched you approach. His violet eyes held yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away.

Viserys gave your hand a gentle squeeze before passing it to Daemon. His expression was one of reluctant acceptance, but you knew he cared for you deeply. Daemon took your hand, his grip firm yet tender as he pulled you closer.

The septon began the ceremony, his voice echoing through the sacred hall. He spoke of duty, love, and the strength of bonds forged in the light of the Seven. You barely heard the words, your focus entirely on Daemon—the man who had been your constant companion, your fiercest protector, and now, your husband.

When the time came to exchange your vows, Daemon’s voice was steady, yet laced with emotion as he spoke:

“With fire and blood, I bind my life to yours. From this day until my last, I am yours, and you are mine.”

Your own voice did not waver as you responded:

“Through the storms and flames, I will stand by your side. My heart is yours, now and forever.”

The septon proclaimed you husband and wife, and the crowd erupted in applause as Daemon leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that sealed your union.

As you turned to face the cheering crowd, Daemon whispered into your ear, “You were born to be mine, and now, the realm knows it.”

The two of you walked down the aisle together, hand in hand, ready to face whatever the future held as one.

The cheers and laughter of the gathered lords and ladies filled the air as you and Daemon stepped into the Great Hall of the Red Keep. The grand space was adorned with Targaryen banners, their crimson and black colors illuminated by the glow of countless candles. Tables were laden with the finest foods and wines from across the realm, a feast fit to honor the union of House Targaryen’s bloodline.

Daemon’s arm rested over yours as you descended the steps from the royal carriage. His smirk grew as he surveyed the crowd, his confidence radiating as always. You could feel his pride not only in himself but also in you—his wife, his equal.

The room fell silent as you both entered the throne room. All eyes turned to you, their murmurs of awe unmistakable. Your gown shimmered under the light, its white and silver fabric a reflection of the stars themselves, while your Valyrian features were framed perfectly by the intricate braids of your hair.

Daemon leaned in close as you paused at the entrance, his lips brushing your ear.

“They’re not here to celebrate the feast,” he murmured with a teasing tone, “They’re here to see the most beautiful woman in the realm.”

You smiled and gave his arm a light squeeze, your gaze sweeping across the room before the two of you moved forward, walking together with regal poise. At the center of the hall, Viserys stood waiting for you both, his expression a mixture of relief and joy as he raised a goblet to toast your union.

“Tonight, we celebrate not just the joining of two hearts but the strength of House Targaryen!” Viserys declared, his voice carrying across the hall. “May their love burn as brightly as dragonfire and stand as strong as the stone of Dragonstone!”

The crowd erupted into applause, and the music began to play. Daemon turned to you with a playful glint in his eyes, extending his hand.

“Shall we give them a dance to remember, my wife?”

You took his hand with a soft laugh, allowing him to lead you to the center of the room. As the two of you began to dance, the rest of the hall seemed to blur into the background, leaving only the two of you, your love, and the fire of House Targaryen burning brightly in your hearts.

The music swelled through the hall as you and Daemon danced, your movements perfectly synchronized as though you had been dancing together all your lives. The room faded away, leaving only the two of you in each other’s gaze.

Daemon’s hand rested firmly on your waist, guiding you effortlessly across the floor, while his other hand held yours with a gentle yet possessive grip. His violet eyes were locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that only he could convey. There was no one else in the world for him in that moment but you.

“You are breathtaking,” he whispered softly, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You smiled, your heart warming at his words. “And you look every bit the rogue prince they whisper about,” you teased lightly, though your tone was filled with affection.

His smirk deepened, but the love in his eyes never faltered. “Let them whisper. They’ll never know the truth of how you’ve stolen my heart.”

The music continued, and the guests watched in awe as you and Daemon moved as one, the perfect embodiment of Targaryen royalty. The way he spun you, the way you moved together, and the way he brought you back into his arms spoke volumes—this was not just a marriage of duty, but of deep, undeniable love.

When the music ended, the hall erupted in applause, but Daemon did not release you right away. Instead, he pulled you closer, his forehead resting gently against yours as he whispered, “We are bound now, by fire and blood. Always.”

You nodded, your voice just as soft. “Always.”

As the applause echoed around you, Daemon pulled you in even closer, his breath warm against your skin. He didn’t wait for the crowd to settle, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was full of promise, passion, and love. The world around you disappeared as you melted into his embrace, the kiss deep and slow, as though he was claiming you in front of everyone.

The sound of distant chatter faded as you lost yourself in the moment, feeling the weight of the vows you had just exchanged, the love you had built, and the bond that now tied you together. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you for even a moment.

When the kiss finally broke, Daemon rested his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. “I never want to be without you,” he whispered, voice filled with raw sincerity.

You smiled, your heart full, and softly replied, “And you never will be.”

The crowd continued to cheer, but it was just the two of you in that moment, lost in each other, knowing that this was the beginning of your forever.

Tag list : @danytar @zaldritzosrose @julessworldd @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @callsignwidow

[luveline]

Hey!! I love love LOVE your criminal minds content so much, especially the Hotch with unexpected daughter reader. Is there any chance you’re gonna write more for that series? I’d literally take anything, the comfort vibes are off the charts with your works and I need some Hotch comfort. But no worries if not, hope you have a great week <33

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

Jack peers at you from over the furthest armrest. “Y/N. Are you grumpy?” 

“Do I look grumpy?” you ask. 

“Yes.” He pokes his eyebrow. “You do.” 

“My face is betraying me then, because I’m not grumpy.” 

“Mine does that to me all the time but mom doesn’t believe it.”

You give him a small nudge. “Your mommy probably knows you better than you know yourself, like, knows how you’re feeling before you do.” 

“But how does she know?”

“I think it’s because she loves you. She really loves you, babe. You’re lucky.” 

“So lucky.” He climbs over the armrest and onto the couch, smiling at you politely, like a friend he’s just found at school. 

You try to see the similarities in your faces. He looks more like Haley than he does Aaron. You look more like your mother, too. There are bits of Aaron in both of you, yours not quite as physical —Jack’s tame when it comes to expressing emotion, and you both talk in a measured tone. (Though your tone is coincidence or genetics, but not learned. You’d have to have known him growing up for it to be learned.) 

“Did dad tell you what mommy said?” Jack asks. 

You glance over his head but see no one. Aaron said he was going to get chips for movie night, and Haley tends to find things to do. “No.” 

“It’s a secret.” 

“Well, you don’t have to tell me.” 

“You can’t tell anyone,” he says. 

Your stomach feels not your own. “I won’t,” you promise. 

“Mommy says you’re here too much.” 

You nod slowly. Jack frowns at you as though waiting for you to be upset, but you’ve suspected she thinks so for a while. It’s not something you blame her for. 

Jack watches you. 

“Dad got really mad.”

“I’m sorry, Jack. That must’ve been scary.” 

Jack drops his face into your arm. “No. Dad doesn’t yell. But he slept in my room with me.” 

“Want a hug?” you whisper. 

Jack squirms under your arm. You pull him toward you and try to divide your feelings into boxes. Embarrassed and horrified and a little annoyed that Haley thinks you’re here too much. Sad and again embarrassed that Aaron defended you. 

This is Haley’s house, and she never signed up for you. She’s never made you feel unwelcome but that doesn’t mean she wants to see you every Saturday. You're a huge new wedge inserted in their married lives, and now you’re affecting Jack, making his parents argue.  

“I’m sorry,” you say, suddenly flooded by a wave of hot, awkward regret. 

You knew when you found out that Aaron was your father that you would change his life. You’ve always hoped it would be for the better, but maybe it isn’t. 

“Jack…” you say. What is it about hugging him that makes you feel like crying? “I’m real sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” 

“It’s not your fault. I like you here. You’re fun.” 

“Thanks, Jack.” 

He looks up at you. “Will you stop coming over?” 

“I guess it’s up to your mommy.” You falter. “Jack?”

“What?” 

“I’m sorry if having a new sister isn’t as fun as you thought it would be. I don’t want to make things harder for you, but I guess I did.” 

“Mom says everything is hard now.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek in efforts to hide how you’re feeling. “I’m sorry. Um, listen, can I have a big hug? I just remembered I have to go help my mom at home.”

“You’re leaving?” 

“Sorry, Jack.” 

Jack gives you a hug. You gather your things and rush to the door to shove your shoes on, but your dad catches you before you can leave. 

“Where are you going?” Aaron asks, his smile falling.

“I–” He makes you nervous, and you know your stammer gives you away. “I forgot I had to do the laundry for my mom tonight, if I don’t do it she’ll be mad for days.” 

“I’m sure you can make it up to her tomorrow,” he suggests gently.

“I better go.”

“Honey, what’s really going on?”

“The laundry is really going on,” you say, unconvincing. “I have to go, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, I’ll see you on–”

You open the door before he can finish or offer a hug, image of him in his loose t-shirt carrying a tray of sandwiches burned into your guilty conscience. 

—

You don’t see Aaron for three weeks before he corners you. You owe your great avoidance to his busy job, but it didn’t feel good to reject him, to refuse to make time for him as he does for you. 

“You!” he says, clearly kidding but not entirely where he’s waiting outside of your university building. “Beautiful young woman in the blue! I have some questions for you.” 

It’s so absurd for him that you immediately burst into shy laughter. “Dad, what?” you ask, hiding your face. 

Classmates part around you, seemingly unperturbed. 

Aaron retrieves his badge. “See this? I could detain you, but I won’t if you come quietly. In fact, if you don’t argue I’ll buy you lunch.” 

“You’d buy my lunch regardless.” 

He grabs you. Kindly, but grabbing all the same, like he’s worried you’re about to scarper. “Where have you been hiding?” he asks, giving you a quick hug. You feel tenseness in his arms you're unused to, hear a sadness in his voice that makes your throat burn. 

Putting a table between you helps marginally. Aaron pretends he doesn’t know why you’ve been avoiding him and the Hotchner house, and you’re more than happy to go along with it, until. 

“I have something to tell you,” he says. 

You press against a piece of soaked fruit with your spoon. “Okay.” 

“Haley and I are probably going to separate.” 

You bite your tongue so hard it makes you flinch, spoon scratching the bottom of your bowl. “What?” 

“We’ve been having problems ever since Jack was born.” 

You stare. 

Aaron is very still. He talks carefully. Not without emotion, but stilted, perhaps. “I’m not as good a father as I wish I were. And Haley sees that. Sweetheart, I haven’t ever wanted to burden you with the, uh, less than happy details of my life. I think you’ve suffered me enough. But I’m telling you because I know Jack told you about my most recent argument with Haley.” He smiles at you. “Honey, we fight too much. That day, it was about you, but it’s not all about you, and she doesn’t… Haley’s a good woman. She is. I’ve changed her life a hundred different ways and she hasn’t had many choices, and she…” Something vulnerable crops up, a wavering in his breath. “Sometimes I think she isn’t fair. She holds me to standards I can’t reach, no matter how hard I try, but we’ve stopped arguing about it so much recently, and I’m afraid that that’s… the death knell.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say softly. 

“I’m going to keep trying. I don’t want to lose her.” He drinks what’s left of his soda and presses his napkin under the edge of his plate. “But I won’t lose you, you know? I just want you to understand that you’re not the problem, and you never could be.” 

“I don’t want to add another thing to your levy, dad,” you say, still soft. 

“Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, tied with your brother, of course. You aren’t a thing to be added to anything, you’re my daughter, and Haley might not like it but my home will always have a place for you.” 

What if that’s the problem? From his perspective, you’re not a hindrance to his marriage so much as a separate issue, but from your own, it sounds like you’re just making things worse. 

You’ve missed him, though, and you can’t argue that his reassurances aren’t working. 

“It’s not that Haley doesn’t like you,” he adds, reaching for your hand, “more that she’s unhappy. I’m sorry that that’s something you had to carry.” 

You often think to yourself that Aaron talks like he’s telling a story. He’s so calm and steady, the same as the feeling of his thumb on your wrist. 

“I’m sorry I stormed out.” 

“I wouldn’t call that storming out,” he says. “You’re too quiet sometimes. I wish you’d be upset out loud.” 

“I just don’t want you to fight about me.” 

“Honey,” —he holds your eyes, giving your wrist a gentle squeeze— “I’m always gonna fight for you. That’s what fathers do.”

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 3

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

Bashing of like...every IC member? Especially the Archeron Sisters, discussion of chronic pain

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

Her father had had three ships. The Nesta, The Elain and The Feyre. 

There had never been The Zahra. 

Of course not. 

She wasn’t truly one of his daughters, was she? 

The ships were reserved for his legitimate daughters. Zahra was a bastard. And bastards didn’t get ships named after them. 

And still…still she had loved him. Loved her father in that stupid way that every child loved their parent. 

She still had yearned for his love, his affection and praise. The praise that only her sisters ever seemed to get.  It was such a stupid, childish thing, she thought to herself. 

And when he had died...it had still broken her heart. Because it had taken from her the...hope. The hope that one day he would look at her with something other than...regret.

He had looked at her with cold distaste, disdain clear in his eyes. Her mother…a common maid, that he had dallied with on a whim during his wife’s pregnancy with Nesta. And she had been the result of that particular choice. 

He had paid the price for it in his marriage, with the woman he had actually loved.

The woman who had hated Zahra…and made it very clear to everyone that Zahra wasn’t wanted or welcome around them. Her half-sisters were beloved. The beautiful daughters of their father. And she was the bastard child. An abomination. 

For Nesta and Elain the years at the cottage had been horrible. They had lost their status in the world, the hope for a match with a man in possession of a fortune.

But Zahra…Zahra had known that she would never marry a man with a fortune. She had hope at all to marry a man from a good family anyway…her options had been thoroughly limited from the time she had been born…because even servants didn’t often want a bastard born wife. 

And after the cottage…

Her options were just further limited. 

Still, she had loved the years at the cottage for one thing and one thing only: She had just been one of the Archeron Girls. 

(Everything else that happened…that was another thing entirely.) 

She had lost that when her father's wealth had been returned...to be thrown back to being a maid, a servant, not a member of the family, but the staff...it had been bitter. And still...still she had hoped. Hoped that one day, her father would...change his mind. Accept her properly as his daughter and not just as...as something he had been saddled with because her mother had died.

But the day never came. He continued to look at her as if she stained the very air around him. As if she was worse than dirt to him.

Maybe she was. 

But Zahra foolishly didn’t give up. She clung to that hope like it was the only thing that was keeping her alive. 

And then he had died. And Zahra had lost that hope.

She had been a fool to hold onto the delusion that one day her father would love her as he had his real daughters.  Such a silly, stupid, little girl she had been. To cling to something that could never be. 

And still, Zahra went and visited his grave. Still, she came there every week and laid some flowers near the headstone...

She never knew why she still did. It seemed….pointless. After all, it wasn’t as if her coming to his grave would bring him. But still, she continued doing it. Every single week. Without fail. 

And this week…this week she wasn’t alone. 

Zahra froze, the flowers clutched in her hands, as she saw them. All three of them. Standing in front of the headstone. Talking amongst themselves.  As if not even noticing that she was there. 

They probably didn't.

"Thank you for coming with me," Elain said softly. “I wanted him to hear it from me.”

"He would be so happy for you, Elain," Feyre said. Her voice was softer than usual, but it was clear that she was happy. "He would be so happy for you and Lucien."

What?

“He would be,” Nesta agreed. “Sad that he won’t be there to walk you down the aisle, but happy that you would be happy.”

Her sister got engaged? And nobody had...nobody had bothered to tell Zahra?

Her breath caught in her throat…the realization hitting her. They didn’t want to tell her…no, they didn’t care if she knew or not. To them…she wasn’t even worthy enough to get an invite for such a thing. They hadn’t…they hadn’t invited her. 

The numbness returned. Full Force.

The numbness she always felt when everything was too much. When all the feelings and emotions got too overwhelming. When she just simply couldn't handle it any longer and her brain shut down.

Numb. 

Numb was good. When she was numb, nobody could hurt her. When she was numb, she could survive. 

Her hand clenched around the stems of the flowers. And then, suddenly, her feet listened to her and she managed to turn around. To turn around and walk away, like her heart hadn't been shattered...like it was completely normal.

Her eyes had glazed over, her mouth was a thin line, but otherwise not betraying any emotion. As quietly as she had walked to the grave…she walked away. Her sisters clearly not noticing the fact that she had even been there, to begin with. 

She returned home to her broken little cottage.

It was probably a good metaphor for her as well, wasn’t it? she reflected weakly. 

That cottage…broken, dirty…a fucking mess. 

Her hands were cold as she clutched the flowers, her heart aching like it had just been pulled out of her chest. And no tears. No tears. Why wasn’t she crying? She wanted to cry. 

She wanted to collapse and sob until she passed out. But no. The feeling of numbness was still around her, like a cloak that just wouldn’t go. The one that always came in situations like these.

It was the only thing that kept her from completely shattering into a million pieces. 

She stumbled through the door, her body moving all on it’s own. She walked over to her small kitchen, and filled a bucket with water. Her hands shook so badly that the water sloshed over the top and on the floor. 

There was nothing Zahra could do against the grime that would cover her for the rest of her days…but she could scrub the floors.  

That's all she was good for, wasn't it? She was a maid's daughter, not a merchant. She would always just be a bastard daughter. Always just be a half-sister, on the edges of her family. 

It didn’t matter what she did, what she had done…what she had given to keep them alive, to keep them fed.

She swallowed the bile back down, forcing herself not to think about what she had done. 

It was over. She should be over it. She should be…

She kept scrubbing the floor, her hands reddening with the harsh lye soap she used. 

Sometimes she wished, she could scrub herself with that as well. 

Why was she even surprised? Was she seriously that stupid? Of course, her sisters wouldn’t bother to tell her. Why would they? She was just a bastard-born daughter. A half-sister. Why would they bother to invite her? 

She was a nobody. She had always been a nobody.

A bastard that no one wanted. That no one loved. It had always been like that. Why did it surprise her now?

Why did it keep hurting her?

A single drop of water landed on the stone floor. Then another. And another. Slowly trickling down her cheeks.

Why did it keep hurting?

She should be used to this by now. Should have gotten used to the pain. But she wasn’t. 

So she kept scrubbing the floors until they were sparkling. Washed off the walls, until they were clean.

She kept scrubbing and cleaning. The floors had to sparkle, the counter gleamed, and the windows shone. 

Something needed to be clean. Needed to be pure. Because it wasn’t going to be her. 

Never going to be her. 

Anything to distract her from the fact that her sisters had just kept her out of a very joyous occasion. Like she wasn’t even worthy of being invited. 

She wasn't worthy of being invited. She should get that into her thick skull. 

She kept cleaning. She cleaned the floors and the walls and mopped and dusted and did her laundry.

She wondered if Azriel knew. The thought came unbidden to her. Did Azriel know that Elain and Lucien were engaged?

She had to stop the scrubbing and she was clenching the brush so hard that her knuckles had turned white. 

Did Azriel know that Elain was engaged? Elain? The one he had...this flirtation with? The flirtation that Rhysand must have put an end to, because nothing else made sense?

She understood completely why Azriel had fallen for her sister…for beautiful Elain. Who didn’t love her? Who didn’t find her beautiful? Elain, who could be sweet and kind to seemingly everybody she came across. 

Zahra looked at the clock she kept in the kitchen. 

There was a family dinner this evening at the River House, just like there was every week. She was expected to attend. Of course, she was. 

Granted, most of the time that meant that she sat through Nesta’s pointed comments and was otherwise ignored. 

But if Azriel didn’t know…she didn’t want him to be alone when he found out. 

Though, maybe he already knew…just Zahra didn’t. 

She didn't believe that though. He would have told her. She was certain of that.

He was a good man. There was no doubt about that. 

She glanced over at the clock, her hands clenching on the brush. 

Zahra had 2 hours. Just enough time to bake a cake to bring along and appear there...to pretend like her sisters hadn't broken her heart.

Two hours to pretend that her heart wasn’t shattered to a thousand pieces. Two hours to act as if she hadn’t been just completely left out. Two 

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. No tears. No tears.

2 hours to act like everything was well.

2 hours to pretend that everything was alright. That she was fine. That her world hadn’t just shattered into pieces. Two hours to shove all the pain to a little corner and not show anything at all. 

She could do that. 

She had done that before. 

***

Azriel would have realised that something was off with Zahra far quicker, if his hands weren't trying to kill him that day.

It was hit or miss if Azriel’s had feeling in his hands at all...and that day...they decided to be far too sensitive. The weather wasn't helping. Velaris had had another cold snap a few days ago and Azriel paid the price.

The bones in his hands and fingers ached, the nerves on fire. The cold had settled deep in his bones and there was nothing he could do to alleviate the pain. It was rubbing his nerves raw.

He had even considered not showing up for dinner at well...but he didn't want Zahra to face the rest of their family alone. 

Granted, most of the time, they just ignored them both…but sometimes they didn’t. 

And when they didn’t ignore her, well, then sharp comments were the norm and quite frankly…he was over it. For both Zahra and himself. 

His temper was on a far shorter tether than normally. 

His fingers were aching and burning. He never wanted to touch anything ever again.

He tried to ignore the pain. It was only a few hours. He could push through for a few hours. 

The first thing that should have told him that something was wrong was the bright pasted on smile on Zahra's face. It was...too much.

The smile on her face was too tight. Too forced. Not like her normal, natural smile.

Something was wrong. He could sense it. 

And then Elain showed off her ring.

The engagement ring. She and Lucien were engaged.

He saw Zahra’s face freeze for a split second before the smile was back to being plastered on again.

“I wish you two every happiness,” Azriel said softly. He found that he was even saying the truth. He was wishing them every happiness.

And this was what they all wanted him to say. It would hopefully get Rhys off his back as well.

Now, that wasn't that difficult, was it? Rhys drawled in his mind. Azriel was half tempted to reach for his shadows and wrap them around his brother’s throat.

But he refrained himself from it.

He was glad that they were happy. He truly was...but Rhys’s smug voice in his head was not something that was appreciated at all.

He could practically feel the shadows twitch with annoyance. But he held back from doing anything...stupid. 

You got what you wanted, Azriel gave back, his voice icy.

Indeed I did, Rhys drawled back. Azriel could practically feel him leaning back in his chair, smugness seeping from his voice.

Azriel very much wanted to strangle him. 

But he didn’t. Because quite frankly…he was more worried about Zahra. Zahra who hadn’t said a word yet. Whose smile was far too tight, her eyes dull. 

Like a mask that was pulled over her face, hiding whatever laid beneath it. 

Something was definitely wrong with her. 

But nobody but him seemed to notice it. 

Especially not when Zahra was very good at making the mask as enthusiastic as Mor on her best days. 

“I am so happy for you! Congrats!” she gushed to Elain. “I hope you have a long and happy marriage.”

“Yeah, because you absolutely respect the sanctity of marriage,” Nesta muttered under her breath, low enough that Azriel nearly wouldn’t have caught it, if the shadows hadn’t snapped it up. 

The sanctity of marriage? From where was that coming from?

But then Zahra continued, her voice too high pitched. Way too cheery. Not like how normally she spoke. But no one else seemed to notice.

Her words were clearly fake, but no one but Azriel seemed to notice. 

"I know Father would be so pleased for you," Zahra continued, Nesta snorting under her breath and making a face like she had bitten into a sour lemon. Elain's face seemed to nearly freeze but Zahra just continued smiling brightly.

Even the mention of their father would usually cause Zahra to falter slightly…but today she didn’t even skip a beat. The smile stayed on her face, even as she continued to speak. Her voice was far too cheery, it was almost painful to listen to. 

Azriel glanced around the table at his family. None of them seemed to notice how...off Zahra seemed. Her cheerful voice and her overly bright smile.

How come no one else noticed? How could they not see how obviously fake she was acting? 

But then, nobody really cared, did they?

The rest of the family dinner was taken up with talking about Elain and Lucien's upcoming nuptials, an nothing else seemed to matter to them at all. 

Nobody gave them a second glance either when Zahra said her goodbyes and he followed after her, minutes later.

He caught up to her on a bridge crossing the Sidra. "Tell me what's wrong," he demanded sharply.

"Nothing is wrong," Zahra said, her voice, smooth and bubbly. He would give it to her: She was one hell of an actress. It was near imperceptively how well she was lying. But the dead look in her eyes gave her away.  "My sister just got engaged, what could possible be wrong?"

"Don't lie to me," Azriel bit out. “I can tell something is wrong. Now tell me what it is.”

His patience was fraying at the edges.

"What's wrong with your hands?" she shot back. "You have been clenching and unclenching them continuously."

“They hurt if it rains,” he gave back tightly. “Now you.” 

She stared at him, obviously not having expected him to actually answer that question. 

And then Zahra crossed her arms, nearly hugging herself as he had seen her do often, whenever there was something…something that brought up memories she didn’t want to think about. 

“Feyre, Elain and Nesta went to visit our father’s gravestone. I wasn’t invited," Zahra whispered, not looking at him. She kept walking, staring down at her feet. Clad in leather shoes that had already seen much better days.  

He could just stare at her. 

"You...you weren't invited?" He repeated back, stopping on the bridge.

She was their sister. And they had just not…not invited her? 

“I went to lay flowers there this morning, and I saw them,” Zahra said thickly. “Elain told him about her engagement….All three were there. I wasn’t invited.” 

He clenched his hands into fists again, the pain returning to them with a vengeance. 

“It’s fine, it shouldn’t hurt me," she said thickly. "They are his daughters. He had three ships named after his three daughters. And then there is me."

He was still trying to process her words. "It’s not fine,” he snapped out, anger rising in his chest. How could they just exclude her like that? “You are his daughter as well. You are their sister,” he continued, following after her. “They shouldn’t have just excluded you like that.” 

Zahra just shrugged, her shoulders caving in.

He felt her wobble on her feet and he reacted without even thinking about it. His hand shot out to grab her arm to keep her upright. He held her by the elbow gently to help balance her.

He watched as she continued walking, her shoulders slumped in. Her voice was quiet, like a whisper. “I know where I stand now...right?” 

They both knew it, didn't they? Rhys got what he wanted and was happy about it and how Azriel felt didn't matter...and Zahra...

Their family had never been normal by any means, but he had never thought...no, he had hoped. He had really hoped that they would never leave Zahra out like that. But they had done that this time. Left her out, like she was nothing. Like she didn't matter at all. 

And he hated that realization. He was used to solving problems. But this…there was no solving this. No way that he could fix this mess. 

"How bad do they hurt?" she asked him suddenly, her voice still broken. Or again.

He was surprised by her question, but he quickly looked down at his hands...his hands were clenched into fists, and his knuckles were turning white. He loosened his fists a bit and grimaced.

“Like hell, but I’ll be fine,” he muttered out. 

“Don’t you have a cream or salve from Madja or something?” she asked him, still holding onto his arm as they made their way to her cottage in unspoken agreement. 

“I do,” he agreed with a sigh. “It just doesn’t help much.” Or at all. A drop of water onto an inferno. 

“Let’s go home and try that,” Zahra said nonetheless. “I  have a hot water bottle you can have as well…does warmth help?” 

“It does,” he answered, surprised by how…much she was trying to help. Even now. Even when she had the most horrible day he could imagine…she was still trying to make him feel better. 

Her cottage was sparkling clean that evening…spotless and immaculate. 

The shadows fetched the salve as he sat down heavily at her kitchen table. Zahra returned just seconds later, bandages in her hand. 

He had expected her to hand him both and was startled when she grasped his hand.

Azriel had been expecting her to just hand him the salve and the bandages. He had not been expecting her to actually just take his hand in hers. To not even hesitate. 

To touch the scarred skin like it didn’t even matter.  People flinched back from the scars. they didn't just...He had people flinch away from his scarred hands before. He had never had someone just grasp them in theirs and not even blink at the sight of the scars. 

But she wasn’t done shocking him. Not when she started spreading the salve over his hands, gently and thoroughly.

Her fingers spread the salve over his skin with gentle, circular motions. The salve was warm on his skin and it brought immediate relief. He could feel his hands slowly relax under her touch. 

He felt it more than he saw it at first...though then it became visible as well. Her hands warmed up against his skin, something like a prickling sensation under his skin, but the feeling was....nice. soothing. And then he could just stare at the glowing golden light that radiated from her skin as she cradled his hands.

"Sorry," she apologised meekly, the light stuttering. "Normally it's just sparks."

He was staring, mesmerized almost at the light.

It was only after a moment that he finally processed her words. “Sparks?” He questioned, his voice much softer than usual. 

Zahra nodded. 

Seconds later, sparks started to dance across her skin. Tiny, golden sparks. Like little stars, dancing across her skin. 

“It’s beautiful,” he found himself saying, his voice sounding a bit raspy. He was completely transfixed as he stared at the lights dancing across her skin. 

Azriel had never seen anything more beautiful in 500 years of life. 

It was…utterly mesmerising. 

Only then he realised that his hands didn't hurt anymore.

No ache, no burn, no stiffness. Nothing. It was just...the soft, gentle touch of her hands on his.

"Since when...Since when can you..." he asked, his voice raw.

He could not even form a proper sentence as he looked down at his hands. No stiffness, no ache, no pain. For the first time in years, he was feeling...nothing in his hands. 

He gently flexed the fingers of his hands, curling them. He felt nothing. Just the smooth, pleasant glide of the skin. Not a single throb or ache. Nothing. It was completely...incredible. 

He continued to stare at his hands, still completely and utterly speechless. His hands...the pain he had been dealing with in his hands for as long as he could remember...it was just gone. 

The scars were still very much there. Visible, and the sight of them would always cause his heart to ache. But the pain he had come to know so well...it was gone. 

The scars were still visible, but the pain…

He slowly looked up to her face, still completely, mind-numbingly stunned by what had happened. “How...what did you...? How?” He managed to ask, his voice breathless. 

"What?" Zahra asked him, her voice shaky. "I didn't hurt you accidentally, did I?"

He quickly shook his head “No, no, you did not hurt me at all," Azriel quickly assured her. “Quite the opposite, actually…” He said, flexing his hands again. He still felt no pain.  “They don’t hurt me anymore.”

He flexed and curled his fingers again, watching as they did so easily. No stiffness, no pain. He felt...nothing. 

"The sparks came after the cauldron," Zahra answered quietly.

“The cauldron?” He repeated back. The cauldron. 

Of course. 

"Can't see the future or be pure death, but I do have sparks," Zahra quipped weakly. “Useless, I know.“

No. Not useless at all.

Pure Golden Light. Healing Light. Similiar to Dawn’s gift maybe…but then he saw the sparks still dancing around Zahra and corrected that. 

No. Not similar. Completely unique to her. Cauldron-wrought. 

"No," he disagreed, unable not to stare at her. "Not useless at all, sunshine. You are pure light."

[enthusiasticharry]

the one where YN is the governess for Harry's children, and they cannot hide their growing affection for each other.

author's note: part one of governess!yn (who is my lil angel baby). after the love on good omens, i finally got my mojo back and i'm back with another work! pls be kind and definitely let me know what you think (and what you would like to see in part 2!)

word count: 12.4k of mutual pining (but they just don't know it yet), friends to lovers, employer/employee relationships going out of the window and meddling modistes!

WARNINGS: death during childbirth, child abandonment, parent death, death of a spouse (you have been warned)

let me know what you think of daisies here! mwah <3

YEAR ONE

“Noah!” YN called from where she sat on a picnic blanket on the house grounds, “Slow down, wait for your sister!”

“But Miss. YN,” The younger boy groaned, a second away from stomping his feet YN assumed, “She’s so slow.”

“Noah,” YN warned again with a tilt of her head, watching as the little boy stopped and waited for the even smaller girl behind him, “Thank you.”

YN loved her life.

Whilst YN had not had the easiest of upbringings in life, she had truly found her passion and calling in being a governess. The Styles household had not been the first family she had worked for – but they were her favourite. Noah, the six-year-old little boy, was bubbly, mischievous and had a penchant for teasing his younger sister made her life interesting every day. Honorah, who was just three years old was the complete opposite of her brother – quiet, sweet and the happiest little girl YN knew.

The family that YN had been with before were difficult to work with. There was an absent father and a mother who interfered with YN’s work too much for her liking so when Mr Styles asked her to come and work for his family – she did not even have to think about it. Mr Styles loved his children, but from what YN had heard – he had loved his wife too. Mrs. Styles had died during the birth of Honorah, and from what YN had experienced it had shaken the family.

YN had started working for the Styles about three months ago. Before, Mr. Styles had relied on his mother and his household staff to aid with the upbringing of his children. Unfortunately for them, his mother had been unable to continue helping in her old age and that was when they sought out help from YN.

“Miss. YN,” Honorah’s voice shook YN out of her daydream, “I picked this for you.”

“Thank you, Norah,” YN smiled, accepting the small daisy that the girl was holding out for her, “This is a lovely daisy.”

The girl sheepishly smiled, rocking on her feet slightly as she stood above the older woman. YN smiled, tapping the space on the blanket next to her for her to drop down.

“How about this…” YN smiled, pulling out some paper and pencils that she had packed in a basket and placing them in front of the girl, “I packed these for you, would you like to try and draw the daisy?”

Honorah nodded, accepting the paper and pencils from YN. The older woman watched with a smile on her face as the girl carefully placed the daisy down in front of her, her tongue slightly slipping out from her lips in concentration as she grabbed the pencil and started to sketch. In her peripheral vision, YN could see Noah chasing what looked to be a butterfly around some of the flowers in front of them.

YN loved the summer, and the Styles children did too it seemed. They had a perfectly good classroom spare in the house to use but when the weather was this lovely, YN saw no need to keep the children holed up within the four walls. They had completed spelling tests each earlier in the morning, and seeing as though it was a Friday, YN saw no need to overwork the children.

“Miss YN,” Noah screamed, running over to her with his hands clutched tightly in front of him, “I caught it!”

“You caught it?” YN’s eyes widened, trying to match the younger boy’s excitement, “What did you catch, Noah?”

“The butterfly I was chasing!” The younger boy’s words were followed by a giggle and a small shake of his shoulders, “It is tickling me.”

“That is probably because it is scared, Noah,” YN explained, placing the younger boy’s hands in hers, “Remember how small the butterfly is? Small enough to fit in your hand. Even though you are a little boy, you are big and scary to the butterfly.”

“Oh,” Noah’s face dropped, his shoulders dropping slightly, “I do not want to scare it.”

YN nodded, “Should we let it go?”

Noah nodded, accepting YN’s help when she cupped his hands and opened them and there was the butterfly. It immediately flew away from them, and Noah saw that as the opportunity to go chasing after it again, Honorah could not resist abandoning her drawing and running after her brother.

YN leant back on her hands lightly and watched as the scene unfolded in front of her. YN had come to terms with the fact that she would not have children of her own, and these two little ones filled that void. YN had been trained with people that she knew would not be the kindest of governesses and at most hated children and she swore she would never be like that. She had been dealt this life, but she was not going to let it change her.

“The last time he caught a bug it took us three hours to convince him to set it free,” YN jumped at the sound of Mr. Styles’ voice from the side of her, the man standing a few feet away from her with his hands in his pockets.

YN smiled, turning her attention back to the children, “I must admit I am surprised he gave it up so easily.”

Mr. Styles chuckled, his hand pointing to the blanket next to her, “May I join you?”

YN nodded, “Of course.”

She tried not to stare as he sat down. There was a decent amount of space between them, and whilst YN’s legs were curved to the side of her – Harry’s extended in front of him. YN would be lying if she said her employer was not attractive. Even with his mood which often reflected the tragedies he had experienced in his life – his features still stood out to YN. Mr. Styles was not shy about eye contact, and every time YN was under his gaze her heart fluttered – just as she was now.

YN looked out at the children who were now chasing each other around a tree, “They completed their spelling lessons an hour or so ago, and instead of keeping them indoors I thought this was a better way for them to spend their time.”

“I am in no position to criticise your methods, Miss YLN,” Mr. Styles nodded, a chuckle escaping his lips as he watched his son taunt his daughter from behind the tree, “If anything, this will ensure that bedtime goes smoothly.”

YN chuckled, watching as the children spotted their father and came bounding over to him. Noah immediately latched onto his father’s side, with Honorah wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Papa, did you see?” Noah’s beaming face almost shouted at his father, “I caught a butterfly! But I let it go because it was scared.”

“I did see, Noah,” Mr. Styles nodded, pulling down his son’s shirt that had rolled up at the back, “It was very nice of you to let it go.”

Noah nodded, obviously trying to suppress the smile on his face due to how his father was happy with him. Honorah, obviously feeling slightly left out of her father’s attention, picked up her half-finished daisy and passed it to him.

Even though YN knew the difficulties of making sure that each of the children had equal attention, Mr Styles did it so effortlessly. After YN’s first experience with a family, one in which she was sure that the father had no idea as to what his children’s names were – it was a lovely sight. He managed to ensure that each one of his children knew that they were loved, and he did everything he could to ensure that they did not feel the hole that the loss of their mother created.

“How about we go inside for supper?” Harry offered to the children, both of whom nodded their heads and scrambled to stand up.

YN took that as the opportunity to start packing up the things she had brought out with them and retire for the evening. Just as YN was about to fold up the blanket, Mr. Styles had already beaten her to it. He smiled at her as he offered the folded blanket to her, which she accepted with a nod of her head and placed it within the basket.

Just as she was about to turn and walk towards the house, Mr. Styles cleared his throat.

“Would you like to join us for supper?”

“Oh,” That stopped YN in her tracks immediately, “I… I should not…I would not want to intrude.”

“You would not be intruding,” Mr. Styles shook his head, “I am offering. There is no need for you to eat alone when you can dine with us.”

YN contemplated his words for a second or so before nodding with a small smile on her face, “Thank you.”

Walking side by side, the two adults followed the children as they ran ahead – a supper waiting inside for them.

For the last three weeks, YN had not eaten alone.

To anyone else, that may have not seemed a fate that would be something to be concerned about – but it was strange. It had started with the supper after the day in the garden with the children and had then been followed by an invitation to breakfast the next day.

YN supposed that it had been for ease, and even more so to allow for her teachings of the children to continue into the rest of the day rather than just to the previous allotted times. The only issue that YN had found with the new arrangement was how YN was being affected by the newly increased amount of time she was spending with Mr. Styles.

Throughout the day YN did not see much of him (just like before) as he tended to retreat to his study to take care of the estate and any other issues that may be presented before him. During mealtimes, however, Mr. Styles now took his place to the left of her at the dining table.

Their conversations never strayed far from the weather, food or most likely the children. Whilst it was strange for YN to join them for these meals, there was a slight comfort that was now found between the two of them. YN never saw Harry converse with friends or leave the house late at night to engage with mistresses which had been a favourite pastime of the previous husband she worked for. A part of YN just assumed that maybe he was lonely, and a conversation with someone that was above the age of six was something that he wished for.

There was also a side of YN that missed the quiet that eating alone gave her. It allowed her time to pause and think. Whilst she loved her job, and she loved the children more than anything YN often wondered what her life would have been like if things were different.

Similarly to the Styles children, YN’s mother had died in childbirth. She had known nothing of her but that information. Her father, a gentleman from the city had remarried almost immediately and his new wife had wanted nothing to do with YN – so she had been abandoned at an orphanage. It was only due to her father’s lineage (even though she had not the faintest idea of who he was) that she had not been made to work, and instead had been trained to be a governess.

YN often wondered what would have happened if that was not the case, if she had not been abandoned in the way she had. She could have been married and had children of her own by now. At the age she was (eight and twenty) the only way in which she could even register the thought of getting married was to a businessman in the village, and yet she did not venture into the village long enough for that to even be a possibility. These thoughts would swirl around YN’s head, just as they were doing now, but then she would be reminded of how fulfilled she was in this role and none of these thoughts would matter.

Whilst YN would often brush these thoughts out of her head, there was a slight comfort in imaging what her life could have been.

YN sat on the steps outside of the residence, a cup filled with tea next to her and the light summer’s breeze a comfort to her. It was deep into the night, and there had not been movement in the house for a few hours and YN was at peace. Dressed in just her nightgown and shawl, the only comfort to her being the silence and the night sky – YN was happy. This time, whilst it had become few and far between recently was the time that she cherished.

“It is a lovely night.”

YN jumped out of her skin at the sound of Mr. Styles’ voice behind her, just as she had done in the garden a few weeks ago. With a hand pressed firmly on her chest in hopes of calming her heart rate down, she turned to look at the man.

“Mr. Styles,” YN gasped, her hand still clutching her chest, “I am afraid you quite terrified me.”

“I apologise,” He offers her a smile, “I heard footsteps earlier and I thought it was the children, but then I saw you sitting out here, and I am now assuming it was you.”

“I apologise,” YN was quick to insert, unable to hide her embarrassment at the situation, “I had no intention of disturbing you.”

“I am most certain you did not,” He pointed to the space on the step next to her, as though asking her permission to sit down and she nodded, watching as he dropped down next to her, “In fact, you were very quiet, it is just me who is a light sleeper. Since my wife…I became the one who had to listen out for the children.”

YN’s body froze when she heard Harry mention his wife. It had been Mr. Styles’ mother who had initially told her about the death of Mrs. Styles. YN had never heard Harry even mention her. She had not a single idea as to whether he spoke to the children about her. She assumed that whilst he may not speak about her now, he must at some point speak to them. YN knew what it was like to have not met a mother, and she knew the pain that it causes and would certainly not ever wish that upon anyone else – especially not those darling children.

“We had another eventful day in the garden today,” YN explained, “I attempted to teach the children how to play pall mall with the old set I found but we instead ended up with a game of cat and mouse – and I am therefore not surprised that they are worn out.”

Harry chuckled, “My family and I used to play pall mall when I was a boy. I had hoped that I would get around to teaching them, but I never had.”

YN’s eyes immediately widened, “I apologise if I overstepped Mr. Styles – I was merely attempting to make use of the day.”

“No, no do not apologise,” Mr. Styles shook his head, “I heard their joyful glees earlier in the day – I would allow for anything to continue to hear those sounds.”

YN wrapped her arms around her knees, bringing them closer to her chest, “I know that I have given you this information before, but you do have two beautiful children, Mr. Styles.”

Mr Styles’ face beamed a smile, as though he was proud to be hearing such information. If YN had heard this information about her children she would not have been prouder to be a parent. Mr. Styles’ face reflected that.

“I wish I could take all of the credit but indeed I cannot,” Mr. Styles sighed, a hand running over his face, “Norah, is, well… she is exactly like her namesake. My wife was sweet, gentle, and kind. She was inquisitive, just as Noah is. Unfortunately for him, he may have inherited my unfortunate mischievous side which I had as a child.”

YN chuckled slightly before offering him a small smile, “It must be lovely to see her in them. To know that she is still here, in them.”

Mr. Styles hesitated. YN’s heart dropped, the fear that she had overstepped coursing through her veins.

“Mr. Styles, I apologise,” YN’s chest started to rise up and down, this time from the nerves rather than being scared, “I completely overstepped. I did not mean to offend you.”

Mr. Styles shook his head, “You did not, and please forget the formalities – call me Harry.”

YN nodded, “I am still sorry if I offended you, Harry.”

“You did not, YN, I can promise you that,” Harry offered her a smile which settled any of the woman that might have still harboured, “In truth, you are correct. Whilst she is no longer with us, I see her face every day. I see the aspects of her that I fell in love with day after day. Whilst it does not fill the hole of what we have lost, it offers a sense of comfort that I am more appreciative of than words could ever explain.”

A comfortable silence loomed over the two of them, the words that had just been spoken dancing around them, invading their thoughts. It was at this point that YN felt her sense of loss wash over her.

“I, uh, well…” YN offered Harry a sad smile, “My mother died giving birth to me too. I do not wish to bore you with the details, but I did not have a father looking out and loving me in the way that you do. Your children will be grateful in the future for that – I promise you.”

Harry nodded, “I am ever so sorry for your loss, YN.”

YN shrugged, “It was a long time ago now, Harry. Whilst I do not advocate the idea that wounds heal with time, I suppose that the effects of such become easier to deal with.”

“I tell them stories of her every night,” Harry offers her a small smile, “I will not allow them to forget her.”

“Then that is all that you can do.”

YEAR TWO

“I do so wish that I could dress you proper, Miss YN,” Miss Francis, the modiste, spoke as she continued to pin the dress on YN’s body.

YN chuckled, “I do not need them, Miss Francis. It would be a waste of an expense.”

The older lady sighed, continuing to pin the length on YN’s new-day dress. It was in a delightful lilac, trimmed with lace that around the cuffs and soon to be the hem.

“But you would look so gorgeous adorned in the latest fashions,” YN sighed but allowed Miss Francis to continue, “I do not know if you have heard, but Mr Jacobs’ son is looking for a wife.”

YN sighed and shook her head, “You know that I do not entertain myself with the idle gossip of the village.”

“Well, I for one believe you should,” Miss Francis stood up, her eyes focusing directly on YN, “You have done your duty as a governess, and I am sure the Styles’ are nothing but grateful for your service but there is a time where one must think for themself.”

YN shook her head, not allowing her words to infiltrate her mind at all, “I would never betray my role. Those children need me… Mr. Styles –”

“Mr Styles can find another governess at the drop of a hat,” Miss Francis sighed, “I am sure that if an advertisement went out today there would be a line from here to London hoping for the role.”

YN scoffed and shook her head, “We both know that is an exaggeration.”

“From here to Manchester, then,” Miss Francis corrected.

YN sighed and stepped off the podium, allowing Miss Francis to help her remove the dress on her body and return to the gown she had arrived in. Today the children had gone with Mr Styles to his mother’s house, something that they did every so often and allowed for YN to have a day just to herself. It was a rarity, and in some parts, YN was thankful to receive these days but sometimes she truly did just miss the children. She would also be lying if she said that she did not miss Harry.

In the last year that she had worked for him, she would say that their relationship grew to what YN would deem as a friendship, to more than just an employer-employee relationship. That in itself was something she cherished alongside the life that he had given her. They still ate meals together with the children, and more often than not in their alone time she would find herself in his company. Even if the room was quiet – they would be together.

To anyone looking in, their situation would seem strange. In all honesty – it was. But no matter how strange the situation, YN would not change it for the world.

“I am happy just the way I am, Miss Francis,” YN smiled at the woman, “I do not need to change anything.”

The older lady just scoffed, “Well, if you are ever to change your mind I would be happy to arrange a meeting.”

YN just shook her head, “I promise that shall never be the case.”

It was at this point that YN could tell that the older woman was slightly annoyed with her, “I shall send your gown to the Styles residence when it is ready.”

“Thank you, Miss Francis,” YN smiled, “Do not be too angry with me.”

“I am not,” Miss Francis shook her head, “I just wish that one day you realise your full potential, my dear.”

YN left the modiste with her brain spinning with the words that Miss Francis had said. It was not that she was taking account of anything that Miss Francis said about marriage because she knew that was not on the cards for YN. She had made her peace with that a long time ago. It was more so that YN was struggling to decipher what the older woman meant by saying that she had not met her full potential.

All of her life, YN knew that her only job in life was going to be a governess. The orphanage had made that very clear to her, and fortunately for YN – it was also something that she enjoyed. That was her potential. That was the start of it, and that was the end of it. There was nothing else that anyone could say to change that.

It began the age-old question discussion again. It started YN’s spiral as to when she would think about what life could have been like if certain things were different. Then, no matter how much she would imagine what her life could have been like – she always circles back to right now and how this was where she wanted to be.

Sighing, YN stepped out from the side of the building and onto the road in hopes of crossing it and continuing her journey home. Just as she was about to step out, a hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her back by the side of the building. It was just as she had been pulled back that a carriage went riding past her, too fast for the speed of a normal carriage.

It was only then that YN realised that whoever the person was who had pulled her out of the way of the carriage had pretty much just saved her life.

“Oh,” YN sighed, her hand lifting to rest again on her chest – her heart rate rising once more.

“Are you okay, miss?” The saviour asked, his hand reaching out to touch her arm.

For the first time, YN’s eyes turn to meet the man and they widen. He was tall, and the only word that YN would have to describe him would be rugged. But in between all of that ruggedness, he was handsome, and YN was not ashamed to admit that.

“I am fine,” YN offered him a small smile, “I… Thank you for that. I fear I was not paying much attention to my surroundings.”

“I gathered that,” YN’s eyebrows furrowed at him, “From the way you ignored my calls for you to stop.”

“I, uh, I did not hear you,” YN chuckles, “I was just…”

“Not paying much attention,” He chuckles.

It was then that YN realised that her hands were shaking. In the adrenaline of it all, she supposed that her near-death experience was finally catching up with her body.

“I… I, uh, thank you for… saving me,” YN nodded, pointing across the road, “But I must be getting home.”

“Allow me to fetch a carriage for you, miss?” YN shook her head at the gentleman’s offer.

“No, I cannot, but thank you,” YN gave him a small smile, “I would very much prefer to walk.”

“Then allow me to escort you,” The man continued to press, obviously not wanting to take her no for an answer, “Just to ensure you are out of the path of any other carriages.”

YN chuckled but again shook her head, “Sir, even if I was to say yes I know better than to accept offers from strangers.”

The man offered her a smile, “Well, that is an issue that is immediately fixable – Mr Jacobs, it is lovely to make your acquaintance Miss…”

“…YLN,” YN chuckles, realising by the second that this man was insanely stubborn, “But I assure you, Mr Jacobs, I am perfectly capable of walking myself home.”

“Well, Miss YLN,” Mr Jacobs presses, “How about instead of me walking you home it turns out that the two of us are just walking in the same direction.”

YN tilts her head at the man, “I fear that may be worse.”

“Yes,” The man laughs, unable to stop himself, “I knew that the minute I said so.”

There must have been something that made it so that once Miss Francis had mentioned this man to her she would meet him. YN would not say that she believed in fate, but this was certainly an odd coincidence.

“Whilst I am not saying yes to your offer,” YN started, offering the man a small smile, “I suppose I cannot stop you from joining me if you do so wish, Mr Jacobs.”

“Very well,” He opened his arm out in the direction she had been walking in, “After you, miss.”

YN makes it obvious that she double-checks whether or not any carriages are coming down the road before she attempts to cross it. Her heart has calmed down, as well as the shaking in her hands but in all honesty she would rather curl up with a book and relax.

“Seeing as though we are walking in the same direction, would it be improper of me to ask you a question or two?” Mr Jacobs prompted from the side of her.

“I would say that I owe you as much,” YN sighed, offering him a small smile, “Seeing as though I could have been in a very different situation if it was not for you.”

Mr Jacobs laughs, “Yes, I must admit saving one from a carriage is a much better play.”

YN shrugged, “Ask away.”

YN was surprised. The conversation, barring the near-death experience, seemed to flow with ease. More often than not, YN found herself laughing. Whilst she loved the conversations that she had with Harry, and she would say that he was her best friend within this world – it was nice to converse with someone who did not necessarily know her.

Whilst it had been nice (as it always is) to play make-believe for a little while, she knew that the second the turn-off for the Styles estate came into view she would have to return to her reality.

YN stopped just at the turning, and Mr Jacobs had not anticipated this as he continued to walk. She cleared her throat, and that was when he stopped and turned around – his eyebrows furrowing at her stopped movements.

“This is me,” She pointed down the road.

He pointed down the road, “The Styles estate?”

“Yes,” YN nodded, lifting her hand to brush her hair out of her face, “I… I am their governess. I work with the Styles children.”

“Oh,” Mr Jacobs seemed to relax slightly, “An honest profession, I must say.”

YN just smiled, “I do appreciate you walking with me, and also not allowing the carriage to run me over.”

Mr Jacobs shook his head, “Do not mention it – I would do it over again if you needed.”

YN opened her mouth but shut it again almost immediately. YN just decided to offer him a smile instead.

“Well, thank you again,” YN pointed down the path, “I must go but I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

Mr Jacobs nodded, “As I wish you do too,” YN turned and started to walk down the path when his voice called out again, “Stay out of the way of any carriages!”

YN could not help the chuckle that left her lips at his words.

The second that YN had returned to the house she had dropped down in the drawing room and stayed there. The house was still silent, letting YN know that neither the children nor Mr Styles were back at the house, and surprisingly to her YN was thankful for that.

Near-death experience aside, YN had enjoyed herself. It was always a pleasure to see Miss Francis (even though she enjoyed meddling more than anything) but the real shock of the day had been her walk and subsequent conversation with Mr Jacobs.

The issue that YN found herself in was that the bridge between her thoughts and her reality had started to merge. From one conversation YN could not presume that she was going to marry the man and she was certainly in no place to do that – but she could not say that the prospect was not there.

YN could have been sat there for an hour, or maybe even five by the time that she was knocked out of her daydreaming. She had not even heard Harry walk into the room and it was only when he moved to stand in front of her was when she realised that he had returned.

“I have been looking for you everywhere,” He sighed, dropping down on the settee just next to her, “Did you not hear me calling your name?”

“I seem to be doing that a lot lately,” YN sighed, offering him a small smile but saying no more.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, confused by the state that she was now in which was very different from the one that he had left her in this morning.

“That was not ominous at all,” Harry stated as though it was the most obvious thing, but YN seemed to be paying no attention, “Are you going to give me an explanation at all?”

“I was nearly hit by a carriage today.”

“What?” Harry’s eyes widened, his body immediately leaning towards her, “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

“No, no I’m fine,” YN shook her head, leaning back on the seat she was on, “I am just…”

YN’s sentence trailed off and then she did not say a single thing. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed again, and he decided then that he did not believe her, “Are you sure you were not injured? You did not bang your head or anything?”

“Harry, I did not hit my head!” The exclaimed rather loud, earning a laugh from Harry from across the room, “I am perfectly okay.”

The silence washed over them again. YN’s eyes continued looking forward, out of the window and to where the trees were slightly swaying in the breeze. She could hear the children squealing throughout the rest of the house, and she was reminded that they were probably happy from spending the day with their grandmother.

“How was your day?” YN asked, still not looking away from the window, “How did the children enjoy it?”  

“They loved it, as they always do,” Harry shrugged off their questioning, “But, and promise me you will not be angry with me –”

“Harry, we both know that if you start a sentence with that I am probably going to be angry with you.”

“I know this but still, I have to ask,” Harry sighed, “Are you positive you are okay?”

YN went silent, her hands messing with a loose thread of fabric on her dress. Harry looked at her, still unable to figure out why on earth she was acting so strangely.

“Do you ever think of marriage?”

Harry’s mouth opened once, before shutting again. He then sighed, and then the realisation of what had been said washed over her and her eyes found his.

“Harry, I am so sorry,” YN shook her head, completely unable to understand why on earth she would have said that, “I should not have said that, God, I do not understand why I said it.”

“No,” Harry shook his head, “I must admit I was a little shocked but do not apologise. My mother had a lot to say about marriage earlier today.”

“She did?”

Harry nods with a slight shrug of his shoulders, “She just mentioned how beneficial it would be for Noah and Norah if they had a mother in their lives. And when I say mentioned, I mean brought up every other sentence.”

YN chuckled. She would be lying if she said she did not love Harry’s mother. She was lovely, and just a ray of sunshine. Whilst she had not experienced having a mother in her life, she did have some idea as to what it would have been like to have a meddling mother. She also had the experiences with Miss Francis, and she gathered that it must have been something like that.

“So, you have considered it?” YN asked, her fingers still pulling on the thread of her dress.

“No, I would not say that,” Harry shook his head, “I would not say consider, but rather had the idea in my head for a few seconds before removing it altogether.”

YN laughed, “I honestly do not blame you for such.”

“Have you…” Harry’s eyes found her, “Thought about it?”

“I do, sometimes,” YN shrugs her shoulders, “I would not say very often but sometimes I find myself doing the same as you. I think about it, and then I remove it from my brain.”

YN laughs, but Harry does not join her. Once she realises her laughter drowns out, she finds herself under his gaze. She should not be so surprised that someone she has lived with for almost two years now knows her so well, but it still shocked her. Just as it had done earlier on in the day, YN found herself unable to stop the increasing of her heart rate. It was silly. He had not even said anything to her, and yet she was completely and utterly a mess under his gaze. It should not be like this, and yet it was.

“It is not unnatural to think about marriage, YN,” Harry says, and YN can tell that every single word he was saying was sincere and he believed true, “Whilst as your employer I should be saying to you not to marry because my children and I… they need you, I cannot in good conscience say that. If marriage is what you wish – then nothing should stop you from doing so. As your friend, I would even go as far as to say that any deserving man would be lucky to have you as his wife.”

YN was silent, taking in his words with nothing but shock swirling around her head. To hear him say those words, as well as the look his face held whilst he said them shook YN to her core.

“Harry I…” YN shook her head, attempting to not focus on the tears that were starting to collect in her waterline and more so on her breathing.

Harry cleared his throat, attempting to mask the awkwardness that now loomed over them, “I apologise if I spoke out of turn, YN.”

“No, you did not,” YN shook her head, “And I appreciate everything you have said, Harry, I truly do but… today must have just been a lapse in my judgement. I would be lying if I said that I am not happy here because I truly am.”

YN’s face could not help the smile that crossed her features at the sight of the one across Harry’s lips.

“I truly do not believe that I could have asked for a better life, and you are the one I have to thank for that.”

Harry just nodded, “Whilst as your employer I am more than happy to hear those words, as your friend I am just delighted that I have managed to help you in this way.”

YN smiled, finally feeling as though whatever mood she had found herself in after today had been brushed off. She stood up, her eyes catching Harry’s as she motioned her head towards the door.

“Let us go find your children and get them ready for bed before they terrorise the rest of the staff.”

Harry laughs and stands up, following YN out of the room and towards the sound of children’s laughter down the hall.

YEAR THREE

“Noah, it is not appropriate to throw food at your sister,” YN warned from her seat next to Harry.

The little boy did not seem to care about her warnings and continued to load grapes onto his spoon and launch them at his sister.

“Noah,” Harry was the one to warn the little boy this time, “Pass me the spoon?”

Harry held his hand out for the spoon. Noah continued to hold the spoon, his eyes darting between his father and the grapes set out in front of him. Harry just raised his eyebrow at his son who sighed and placed the spoon in his father’s hand. YN watched as the boy picked up the grape and without his spoon launched it at his sister.

“That is it, Noah,” Harry shook his head, “If you carry on with this behaviour you will be staying here instead of going to your Grandmother’s house tomorrow.”

That was all that the little boy needed to drop the grape that he had picked up and sit up straight in his seat. YN pursed her lips in hopes of suppressing the giggle that was attempting to escape her lips at the child’s antics.

“How about the two of you go to the classroom and wait for Miss. YN?” Harry asked, a smile present on his lips, “I just need to have a quick word.”

YN nodded, wiping her hands on her napkin, and placing it on the table next to her plate. YN watched with a smile as the children started a race upstairs to the classroom. YN knew that they were going to be a handful today as they always were when they were going to see their grandmother. It was as though the excitement of waiting for tomorrow was too much for them.

“Is something the matter?” YN asked, taking a sip of her tea.

“I had a question to ask you,” Harry started, “It is about tomorrow.”

“Oh,” YN smiled, “Do you mean your birthday? Something about your birthday?”

Harry sighed, shaking his head and the girl giggled. YN knew that Harry did not enjoy his birthday and that made it ever so easy to tease him.

“It is unfortunately something about my birthday,” Harry sighed, “Even though I am not supposed to know, I do know that my mother is throwing a ball for my birthday tomorrow night. She has tried to for the past few years, and I asked her to wait, and she has.”

“That should be lovely,” YN smiled, “I have heard from others how enjoyable your mother’s balls are. I hope you have a lovely time, no matter how much you hate it.”

Harry shook his head, knowing that he would be unable to stop the girl’s teasing, “I was wondering whether you wanted to join me? At the ball?”

YN’s eyes widen. That was certainly not what she was expecting him to say. YN thought that she would do what she normally does when Harry and the children go to his mother’s house which was have a day to herself. She honestly would never have thought would be what he was going to say to her, and yet here he was asking her this.

“Harry I…” YN shook her head, “I… even if I did, I do not have anything to wear.”

“That is an easy rectifiable issue,” Harry sighed with a smile on her face, “I will take the children for a few hours this afternoon so that you can go and see Miss Francis.”

“I do not… how will she even manage to…”

Harry shook his head, “Please stop your worrying, there is no need for it. Do not worry about the cost or the timing for I am sure that Miss Francis will be happy to do this for you to attend the ball.”

YN just shook her head, “I shall be so out of place, Harry.”

Harry placed his hand on the table, leaning forward to offer a comforting look, “No you will not. You will be with me, and I am positive some of your acquaintances from the village shall be there. And even if they are not, it is my birthday, and you are my best friend, and I will not go unless you are there.”

YN sighed and shook her head, “You will upset your mother by doing that.”

“You will upset me by not coming,” Harry retorts quickly.

YN sighs, and nods her head, “Will you send word to Miss Francis that I shall be coming to see her later?”

Harry beams a smile at his friend and nods, “I will do so immediately.”

A few hours later YN was standing in front of Miss Francis with an already complete dress on her body. YN was shocked, and confused as to why there was an already complete garment ready for her but then she remembered Miss Francis’ penchant for meddling and the fact that Harry knew that she would not have been able to say no to him.

“When Mr Styles sent word of the ball a few weeks or so ago, I knew that this fabric would be perfect for you,” Miss Francis explained as she pinned the hem of the dress for the girl.

YN’s mouth opened in shock as the older woman’s words registered in YN’s head, “I saw you just a week ago to alter my winter dresses and you made no mention of the ball.”

The older woman’s face broke out in a smile, “Mr Styles wished for it to remain a secret and who am I not to oblige?”

Even though YN was pretending to be annoyed with the woman, she was sort of pleased that she had only been told about the ball the day before. Whilst the children had known they had been going to their grandmother's for the last few weeks and each day they had become more and more excited, YN would not have experienced that. If YN had found out about the ball at any time before today, she knew that she would have convinced herself not to go. Finding out so late and knowing that a dress had already been made for her – there was no way that she could convince herself not to do so.

“This gown is truly beautiful, Miss Francis,” YN smiled, “You truly have outdone yourself.”

“I have said to you all along my dear, if you allowed me to dress you in the latest fashions you could have suitors lining outside the door.”

YN sighed and shook her head. Since YN’s conversation with Harry last year after her near-death experience with a carriage, she had not even thought about marriage. When she had said that she was happy during that conversation – she had truly meant it. She was happy in her current situation, and she would not change it for the world.

But, seeing herself in this dress she would be completely and utterly lying to herself if the thought had not crossed her mind one more time. This could have been her life if things were different – these outfits, and balls could have been her day-to-day life. But, there were balls, and these dresses were now her day-to-day in this life and to her that meant everything.

“I must admit, Miss Francis, I am completely out of my depth with this entire thing.”

Miss Francis just shook her head, “Do not worry, my dear. There is no pressure on you, at all. At most, you will have a few drinks, some sweet, possibly a dance if you are lucky and that is it.”

YN sighed with a chuckle, “Goodness, I have not danced in years.”

Miss Francis placed a comforting hand on YN’s arm, “As long as you do not stand on your partners’ feet, I believe you shall be okay.”

“That is easier said than done, Miss Francis.”

The older woman aided YN out of the gown and into her previous outfit so that she could make the last amendments to her gown.

“If I were you, every time that you find yourself nervous, or without somebody to talk to I would just remind yourself of why you are there – because Mr Styles is your friend, and he wishes you there.”

YN reached out to grab Miss Francis’ hand and give it a gentle squeeze, “Thank you. If anything, I am lucky that you are my friend.”

Miss Francis held up her finger as if to delay that thought for a second and moved into the back room. She came out with a wooden box in hand, unlocked the clasp and passed it to YN.

“This belonged to my mother. It was a family heirloom of sorts,” Miss Francis explained, “I always thought that I would pass it to my children, but that never came to be. I wish for you to have them, and to wear them tomorrow.”

YN gasped as she opened the box, placing her hand on her chest as she peered at the matching diamond necklace and earrings that were inside. YN had seen the jewellery that many members of society wore, and whilst this was not like that – YN preferred it more. The earrings were modest, with a tiny diamond falling from a gold stud and the necklace matched. It was beautiful, and it was timeless.

“Miss Francis, I do not know what to say,” YN shook her head, “I cannot accept this.”

“You can, and you will,” The older woman nodded, “You are the closest thing that I have to a daughter in this world, and this is your first ball, and you deserve to show yourself off.”

YN chuckled through the tears that were collecting in her waterline, shut the box containing the jewels and wrapped her arms around the older lady. Miss Francis laughed in obvious shock at the girl’s antics.

“I do not know how to thank you,” YN muttered into the woman’s shoulder.

“Do not thank me,” Miss Francis shook her head, “Just promise me that you will have a good time and enjoy yourself.”

“I promise,” YN nodded.

YN had never felt more out of place in her entire life.

She knew that the way that she had grown up was different to those in society, but being surrounded by them in the way she was truly allowed YN to realise how much of that was true.

YN did not even know where to begin.

That was how she ended up standing, hovering by the wall as people mingled and danced around her. She had arrived with Harry earlier in the day but had left the family alone to celebrate with each other. Once she had joined the festivities of the ball, she still had not seen the birthday boy. Of course, he could have been anywhere in this room and YN would have missed him entirely due to the amount of people there.

With a sigh, YN’s eyes fluttered around the room until she spotted Harry and his mother walking into the room. YN would be lying if she said that the smile adorned on his face did not cause a matching one on hers. He truly did look happy. His eyes were wide, and his cheeks were red, and YN wondered whether or not he had some liquid courage before joining the party. YN could not blame him and chuckled to herself at the thought.

“Miss YLN,” YN jumped out of her skin slightly at the sound of a voice next to her, but relaxed when she saw that it was only Mr Jacobs, “Is something amusing you?”

“Oh, no,” YN shook her head with a small shrug, “Just an amusing thought, that is all.”

Mr Jacobs just hummed, “I must admit, it is nice to see you. When I received the invitation for the evening I did wonder whether or not you were going to make an appearance, and I am happy that you did.”

YN just smiled, dropping her head slightly. She had not seen Mr Jacobs (or thought about him at that) since the almost fatal carriage incident day. It amused YN to no end that had not been the case for Mr Jacobs, and he had thought about her. Maybe she left more of an impression on people than she had thought.

Mr Jacobs looked around the room and cleared his throat, “How are you enjoying yourself so far?”

YN chuckled again, “I would be withholding the truth if I did not say I am slightly overwhelmed, but, I must admit there has been a lovely turnout to celebrate Mr Styles’ birthday.”

Mr Jacobs just hummed again, “That itself is not surprising.”

YN’s eyebrows furrowed in the man’s direction, “And why would that be?”

Mr Jacobs lifted the glass he held in his hand up to his lips and shrugged, “I heard that Mrs Styles extended invitations to every eligible lady in the county, as well as a few from London, seeing as though Mr Styles wishes to take a wife.”

YN nearly choked on her spit at his words but attempted to cover it up in hopes of not raising any questions. This was the first that she had heard of this subject. The last time that she and Harry had conversed on this subject he had made it painfully aware that he was not thinking at all of marriage. Of course, that conversation had been almost a year ago and his intentions could have changed since then. The only question that floated around in YN’s brain was – if so, why had he not said anything to her?

“Oh,” YN faked a laugh, “Well that does make sense. If Mr Styles wants to marry again, he should ensure that he makes the correct choice.”

Mr Jacobs’ eyebrows furrow, “You did not know that he was looking for another bride?”

YN lightly shook her head, “I am not shocked, though. I am only his governess, he does not have to discuss such important, personal matters with me.”

“I just thought that since you had been invited to the ball perhaps you were friends,” Mr Jacobs pressed, confusing YN slightly.

“To a degree, yes,” YN nodded, “But not to the degree of discussing these matters, I suppose.”

Mr Jacobs nodded, finished his drink, and placed his glass down on the table behind them. YN had hoped by that point their conversation would be over, and she could go back to watching the room – but that was not to be the case. YN was admittingly shocked when Mr Jacobs extended his hand out before her.

“Miss YLN,” He spoke, a small smile etching across his features, “Would you do me the honour of joining me in the next dance?”

“Oh,” YN shook her head, “Thank you, Mr Jacobs but I will have to politely refuse – I have not danced since I was a child.”

“Well,” Mr Jacobs shrugged, “To me, it seems there is no time like the present to start again.”

YN watched from over his shoulder as other couples began to migrate to the dancefloor. Exhaling a nervous breath, YN nodded and placed her hand into Mr Jacobs’. He led her towards the dancefloor, and they somehow ended up directly in the middle. Her eyes fluttered to the left and the right of her before they settled directly in front. Mr Jacobs offered her a smile, and that was seemingly all it took for her nerves to dissipate almost completely.

The music started, and they danced.

What YN could not see as she moved around the room, her hand tightly placed in Mr Jacobs was the two eyes watching her from across the room. Harry had been speaking to one of the many ladies that his mother had invited without his knowledge (he will remember this for next time) when he saw them. There was not a possible way that he could have missed her. When he had instructed Miss Francis to make her a dress, he knew that the older woman would succeed at making it beautiful but the only word that seemed to stand out in his head was breathtaking.

Harry tried to listen to the conversation he was in, but he could not. The only thing he could pay attention to was how she floated around the dance floor. She was smiling, an indication to him that she was enjoying herself. At one point he even saw her share a laugh with Mr Jacobs, a man that Harry knew of but not very well. A wave of longing washed over him, a longing for that to have been him.

“Mr Styles!” A voice called from the side of him, “Mr Styles?”

“Hmm?” He hummed, turning back to the lady who had grown impatient at the expense of his distraction, which was now finishing thankfully.

“I asked whether or not you enjoyed dancing?”

Harry’s eyes caught YN walking over towards the refreshment table, alone, and he saw this as his opportunity. He excused himself from the lady, who stood there in shock and watched as he walked away. Harry made a beeline for the refreshment table, ignoring any calls of his name the entire way there.

YN had just picked up a glass to take a sip when she felt someone beside her. She turned, saw that it was Harry and smiled – only for that smile to drop when she saw the expression on his face. The once smiley Mr Styles had been replaced with a look of sadness. It concerned YN to no end.

“Harry?” She dropped the drink back down on the table, “Is everything okay?”

He sighed, “I require some air. Would you care to join me?”

YN just nodded, knowing that he was probably wanting to talk to her more than have some air. Saying that, the room was quite stuffy with the amount of bodies occupying it so she would not be shocked. She followed him through the house until they could slip out of the back door. There was a chill in the air, seeing as though it was February, but that was not the important thing right now.

YN stood by the door, hoping to guard herself from the child slightly as she watched Harry pace in front of her. With each step, she grew more concerned for the man.

“You are worrying me now, Harry,” She started, her voice turning to a slight plead, “Would you please tell me what is wrong?”

Harry sighed and stopped his pacing before turning and walking so he was standing just a few feet from the girl.

“If you wish to marry Mr Jacobs then you should do so.”

YN feels as though all of the air has been sucked out of her body. Her heart begins to beat uncontrollably – the only sound she can hear is her heartbeat throughout her body. Out of everything that she thought he was going to say, that had certainly not been it. She could not even imagine why it had made him act in this way.

“Harry, I…” YN shook her head, unable to hold back her laugh, “That is… I had not even… I only danced with the man Harry.”

Harry shook his head, “I need you to know that if you wish to marry him, then you should.”

YN laughed again, “Harry you are being preposterous! You cannot just go around saying things such as that! But, seeing as though you have said such things, I would like to reiterate all of the information which you already know – I am happy just as I am, with you and with the children.”

Harry sighs, “You do not have to lie to me, YN. I can take the truth.”

“By this display of emotions Harry I find that very hard to believe,” She shakes her head once more, “And even so, I am not lying to you. I merely offered a dance, and I accepted and whilst I do not have the most experience with balls – I have gathered that this is something that usually happens at them!”

Harry’s eyes narrowed at YN once more, and that is when she noticed that his chest was heaving just as much as hers was. The more that they were standing staring at each other, the more confused YN became. That all came to a head when Harry turned and walked away from her, walking into the house without a single second look at her.

YN watched him as he walked away, and she was overwhelmed with the want to cry. She took a deep breath, lifting her hand to rest a hand on her chest in an attempt to calm her breathing. YN took a few steps away from the house so that she could rest against the wall surrounding the steps, the chill in the air the last of the worries.

YN sighed, lifting her hand to her forehead in hopes that would help regain even an ounce of or so of calm again. It was no use though as all she could think about was Harry, and what was the reason behind his sudden outburst of emotion.

“Oh, Miss YLN,” YN lifted her head at the sound of her name, “Are you quite alright?”

There was a part of YN that wanted to groan slightly at the fact that Mr Jacobs had somehow found her even admits the festivities. Instead of groaning, however, YN, found herself offering him a smile.

“I am fine,” She nodded, “Just needed a breath of fresh air.”

Mr Jacobs nodded, approaching where she was sitting on the wall. She did feel bad for the man, seeing as though he was the cause of so much turmoil and yet he had no idea of it. At the end of the day, Mr Jacobs had technically done nothing wrong, and she could not blame the man for something that was between herself and Harry.

He dropped down on the wall with an adequate space next to her and ran his hands over his trousers, “I did wish to ask you something after our dance, before I realised you had disappeared.”

YN just nodded, “Of course, Mr Jacobs.”

“I do not wish for you to read too far into this, Miss YLN, but I do enjoy your company,” Mr Jacobs started, “And, even though I had wanted to do this the last time I saw you I knew it would be inappropriate, but now I do not think the same.”

“Mr Jacobs, you do not have to justify yourself to me,” YN offered him a small smile, “Please, ask whatever it is you would like.”

Mr Jacobs nodded, “Would you care to join me for a promenade tomorrow?”

For the second time in a short period, YN found herself short of breath. She could not believe how these declarations were coming one after the other.

YN knew that if she lingered on the thought too much she would lose herself or talk herself out of it. She supposed, in deciding for herself for once she nodded her head at Mr Jacobs.

“I would very much like that.”

YEAR FOUR

“Do you think Father is scared of bees, Miss YN?” Noah asked, holding YN’s hand as they walked back towards the house.

YN shrugged her shoulders slightly, “I do not know, Noah, you should ask him yourself.”

The little boy nodded, “I do not wish for them to sting me, but I would not say that I am scared of them – not like Norah is.”

The little girl’s head perked up at the sound of her name, “I am not afraid! I just do not like them very much.”

YN chuckled at the discussion between the small children. They both pulled away from YN once they reached the steps to the house, turning it into a race just as they did with everything. Sighing, YN followed them up the steps slightly slower than they had done. Once she stepped inside the house, she saw both children standing in the doorway of the sitting room with shocked expressions on their faces.

“What is it?” YN questioned, turning to look at what both of the children were staring at. She stopped in her tracks at what it was.

Sitting on the settee was both Harry and Mr Jacobs. YN could not figure out the expression that Harry’s face held, but she could see that Mr Jacobs seemed to be one of happiness. YN placed a hand on the back of the children’s shoulders.

“Why don’t you both get yourself cleaned up for supper?” She smiled, ushering the children out of the room before she stepped inside.

YN stayed standing up just by the door as she watched the uncomfortable air that seemed to be passing between the two men. In all honesty, YN believed that this was probably the first time that they had met properly. They had both been a topic of conversations with YN but had never spoken directly. It caused YN’s stomach to twist. 

YN had agreed to meet Mr Jacobs the day after the ball mainly to spite Harry, and the words that he had shared with her just a few moments before. What she had been surprised by was the amount she had enjoyed herself. Their walks had been few and far between over the past year or so, as YN would not have let herself forget the real reason she was there in the first place – and that was the children. She could tell that Mr Jacobs had wished for more, but she was unable to give him that. In all honesty, she did not know whether she wanted to give him that.

She had not expected him to show up at her house, though.

“Mr Jacobs,” YN greeted with a small smile, “It is lovely to see you.”

“As it is for you, Miss YLN.”

YN’s eyes flickered between Harry and Mr Jacobs, “May I ask the reason for your visit?”

Harry cleared his throat and stood up, looking at YN with an unreadable expression on his face, “He is here to ask you a question, YN. Or really, to ask me whether it is agreeable for me if he was to ask for your hand in marriage.”

YN gasped. Out of everything that Harry could have said, she had not expected that. Whilst it had shocked her, there was another feeling present that YN couldn’t quite put her finger on.

With a slight drop of her head she looked towards Harry, “Mr Styles, would you mind leaving the room?”

The second YN said those words, she regretted it. The expression on Harry’s face had gone from unreadable to pained, and she knew that she was the cause of this. She hoped that he would not let himself get too worked up over this. Whilst YN had no idea as to how this would play out, she had hoped that Harry would have a little more faith in her than to just abandon him in this way.

With a nod, Harry nodded and walked past her to leave the room. The door shut behind him, and she was finally alone with Mr Jacobs. That was when she realised the other emotion that was swirling within her – it was anger.

“Miss YLN,” Mr Jacobs stood up, “I had hoped that I would be able to…”

YN shook her head and held her hand out so that he knew not to take a step closer to her, “I do not want to hear it, Mr Jacobs.”

He stopped in his tracks, his eyebrows furrowing at her words, “Miss YLN, if I have done something to offend you –”

“You have,” YN nodded, unable to hold back her anger, “You have offended me, Mr Jacobs. You have offended me by coming to my place of employment to ask for my hand in marriage instead of coming to me.”

“You have avoided me for weeks, Miss YLN,” Mr Jacobs responds, his tone turning stern, “Of course, I had wished to speak to you first, but I was unable to do so.”

“So you thought your best course of action was to show up here and what?” YN sighed, laughing slightly at the absurdness of the entire situation, “Ask Harry for my hand in marriage?”

“I only wished to ask…” Mr Jacobs stopped in his tracks, his expression changing once more, “Harry?”

YN shakes her head, even more confused, “What?”

“You call Mr Styles by his first name?” Mr Jacobs presses once more.

YN scoffs a laugh, “Yes I do, Mr Jacobs, but I do not see how that is your business.”

“I think it is,” Mr Jacobs nods, “Seeing as though he is your employer, and you call him by his first name.”

“Yes,” YN nods, “My employer who is also my friend, and has been for the past four years.”

Mr Jacobs scoffs, “I should have known. I should have known when you were at the ball, even more so when you refused to join me on promenades, and this has just made it even more apparent.”

YN shook her head, “Made what even more apparent?”

“That your affections lie with Mr Styles, or Harry is it?”

YN could not believe what she was hearing. It angered her more so than she thought anything ever could. The audacity of this man to say such a thing – make such a claim when he did not the extent of the accusations that he was making.

“I think it is time for you to take your leave, Mr Jacobs,” YN stated coldly.

“No,” Mr Jacobs shakes his head, placing his hands upon his hips, “Not until I receive my answer from you.”

“I think my asking of you to leave is answer enough.”

Mr Jacobs sighs, “Will you not at least give me a reason as to why?”

“I said leave!”

“I will not,” YN was surprised at the level at which Mr Jacobs raised his voice, “You have no authority to order me out of this house.”

That was when the door opened and Harry stepped in, the look on his face matching Mr Jacobs in anger.

“That is where you are wrong, Mr Jacobs,” Harry speaks calmly, “This is just as much Miss YLN’s house as it is mine, and if she does not wish for you to be here anymore then you should leave. If you refuse, well that is when I shall step in – and I have no qualms in physically removing you from the property.”

Mr Jacobs looks at YN one last time before scoffing and practically storming out of the room. Once she hears the front door from the side of them slam shut, YN thankfully knows that she is in all clear. It takes all of a few seconds before she breaks down, the tears streaming down her face involuntarily.

“Oh, YN,” Harry takes one look at her shaking body, and he is there, wrapping his arms around her shaking body. The pressure of his body against hers was all she needed to collapse, her legs giving way and her body falling to the ground.

Harry is there to catch her, pulling her body even closer to his. Her hands grasp at the lapel of his jacket, hoping that would give her even an ounce of relief.

“Harry,” She gasps, the tears still streaming down her face, “I am so sorry.”

Harry shook his head, resting his cheek against the top of her head, “You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.”

YN was sitting at the front of the classroom, the complete silence in the room offering an inch of comfort to YN after a difficult few days. 

She was not necessarily one who thought that silent reading time was the best for the children, but she had no other option. The past few days she had not been herself, and unfortunately whilst she had tried to not let it affect her work – there was unfortunately no way that it would not.

YN was staring out of the window when the door opened, replacing the silence in the room with footsteps that could only belong to one person. It was at that point that YN realised that the children had not been reading, and instead had been occupying themselves in other ways. The pencil that Noah had been attempting to balance on his face fell off and clattered to the ground the second his father made an entrance into the room, and Norah dropped the hair that she had been attempting to colour with her crayons.

“Noah, Norah,” Harry addressed his children, “How about you go and find the cook. From what I have heard, she has a plate of treats waiting for you both.”

The children’s faces broke out into smiles, and they bounded past their father, the two of them making it a competition as they did. YN sighed, offering Harry a small smile as he closed the door to the classroom. It was the first time that the two of them had been alone since the incident occurred and YN supposed that was not for a lack of trying on Harry’s part – more so that YN had been avoiding him.

“I know what you are here to discuss, and I fear we cannot,” YN shook her head, watching as Harry leant against the children’s desk and crossed his arms over his face.

“We can,” Harry nodded, “You cannot avoid me forever, seeing as though we live in the same house, and you are the governess to my children. And more importantly, you are my friend.”

YN sighed, “There is nothing to say, Harry. We both know what happened, and I believe the best thing for us to do is move on as though nothing has happened.”

“But we both know that is not the case,” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I know that you think the best thing for us to do is ignore the situation, YN, but we cannot.”

YN sighs and nods her head, “Very well, then. Say what you need to.”

Harry sighed and stood up, taking a step closer to YN from over the desk, “Did you want to?”

“Did I what?” YN offered him a puzzled expression.

“Want to marry him?” Harry asks, “Mr Jacobs?”

YN sighed and almost immediately shook her head, “No. I did not. If I had, I would have accepted his hand right then and there. I have told you time and time again, Harry, I am happy just where I am.”

Harry nodded, starting to pace up and down in front of her just as he had the night of the ball. If he was not careful, she would not be surprised if a scuff mark appeared on the floor from his shoes.

Harry stopped directly in front of her and nodded again, “Then marry me.”

YN’s eyes widen. Whilst the last proposal she was shocked and appalled by – this one, she was just shocked. YN could not even believe that those words had just come out of Harry’s lips, and more so that it was directed at her.

“Harry,” YN addressed with a laugh and a shake of her head, “You cannot mean that.”

“But I do,” He nodded, walking around the table so that he was directly in front of the chair that she was sitting in, “I do mean it.”

YN scoffed, “I understand if you are upset with what happened with Mr Jacobs but Harry, what you are saying is preposterous.”

“It is not,” Harry shakes his head, dropping down so he is at eye level with the girl, “I know that you wish to marry, YN, and I am saying – let that person be me.”

“Harry…”

YN’s eyes start to fill with tears, even more so when he reaches forward to grab her hands, “I know that I need to marry, and I know that somewhere, deep down you would like to. We are already acquainted, and I would definitely say that we are friends and I already know that the children like you. I mean – it makes perfect sense to me.”

YN sighed, beginning to shake her head again, “No, Harry you do not mean that.”

“But I do,” He nods his head, his eyes never leaving hers, “I do not think I have ever meant anything more in my life. I lov…” Harry’s eyes widen at his words and then he shakes his head, “I appreciate you more than anything, YN. You have changed my life and my children’s lives for the better. We do not have to care about what society may think, all we have to care about we think. Let me change your life.”

YN opened her mouth, but no words came out. She was truly and honestly in a state of shock.

[penkura]

where you belong [3/10]

Summary: As Luffy's big sister, you've viewed it to be your job to see him become King of the Pirates in place of your absent parents, even as you try to find where it is you belong in the world. You never really expected to draw the attention of Trafalgar Law in the process.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader

Warnings: Discussion of feelings of abandonment, age gap relationship (four years), brief secret relationship, mentions and heavy refences to sex, mentions of alcohol, typical One Piece stuff. Other warnings to be added if needed.

Note: Hahaha almost 7.3k words, I'm so sorry. I almost completely removed this chapter, but I wanted to do a little bit more showing Law and Reader's relationship. :) If you'd like a song to listen to as you read, Clock Strikes by One OK Rock is what I was listening to as I wrote parts of this. 💚

Taglist:

@pinksaiyans | @sukunas-play-thing | @spiderlily-w1tch-blog | @mineymak | @valen-yamyam16 | @shimmerxc | @luffy0s | @fluffybunnyu | @laws-wife-things | @crmnic | @eyes-ofhell | @hopelesslover06 | @nyfwyeonjun | @extremely-ashtridic | @idk67876 | @mysweetmagicworld | @lorelexi-main | @pandabiene5115 | @shakysif | @bern87

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2]

Law takes his time telling you about his childhood and time with Corazon. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, especially knowing how you react when Ace is brought up, he’s not sure he can deal with you crying over the things that have happened to him. He also needs the time to work out his own feelings, trying to keep from choking up himself when he remembers everything, even though when it happens you quietly take his hand to try and provide some comfort, like he's done for you.

He never shakes your hand off his, just pushes down the pain and tears and keeps talking to you.

He starts by telling you about his family and life in Flevance. His mother and father, how wonderful and brilliant they were, how much they loved him. His little sister Lami, who adored him more than anything in the world, she always wanted him to join her during the festivals in Flevance. He loved his family more than anything, they meant the world to him back then. You smile when he tells you about the first time his parents let him take Lami to get ice cream, by themselves, and how she dropped hers, so he had to share with her.

While he doesn’t remember too much, he does tell you about his friends from the church nearby. They’d all been classmates too, spending their days going through normal classes and sometimes the boys, Law included, would catch frogs to dissect and gross out the girls. He remembers all the festivals, the neighbors he’d pass by every day, the old lady next door that always tried to get him to eat bread for some reason.

Law tries to make it easy for you, the first day is only about his family and friends. Nothing about the destruction of Flevance yet, he takes a bit to get there, and it affects him just like it does you, it still does to this day.

He really does try to keep his emotions in check, but once he begins to remember how it felt to see Lami sick with the white lead disease, he starts to struggle with keeping his voice steady.

“I…I was horrified when we realized she was sick,” Law has to stop and take a breath, swallowing down the tears he feels trying to slip out, “I didn’t want to watch her die.”

Nodding, you don’t say anything, you don’t want to interrupt his thoughts as he works them out and how to voice them. You just grip his hand a little tighter, which Law returns before he continues, reliving when his home was destroyed by the World Government.

“I left the hospital after I found my parents were dead, I was going to find the nun who had told me some Marines were going to sneak us kids out, so we could get Lami and go,” you can already tell where this is going, while Law grits his teeth remembering everything as vividly as he does, “She had been killed too, all my friends from the church…the hospital was burned down with…with Lami still inside…”

“Law…I’m so sorry…”

“I escaped in a mass of corpses, I had to get out somehow. That was the only way. I, eventually, I found Doflamino and his crew, and worked to join them when I was ten.”

Both of you quiet, you’re trying to take everything in, and Law is trying to get past his feelings again, he hates talking about all of this. Every time someone new joins his crew, he waits a while to make sure they’re trustworthy before he tells them anything.

But he believed you should know, even though you aren’t staying forever, and now you’re slowly learning everything.

You know when he’s done talking for the time being once he becomes quiet, you’ve noticed that about him over the last several months, allowing you to hug him though he doesn’t return it. He does appreciate it though, you don’t ask him to tell you more than what he’s ready to, taking it all at the pace Law sets for this.

“It’s getting late,” you hadn’t even notice until Law brings it up, but it is starting to look dark outside, “Everyone will be back for dinner soon.”

Law can’t help the slight smile that comes to his face when you sniffle a bit and nod, rubbing at your eyes with your sleeve. He didn’t fully expect you to start crying but he’s also not surprised, he figures it must bring out your own feelings of protectiveness and sibling love towards Luffy. Once he stands, Law holds his hand out to help you up which you gladly take, but you pull him into another hug that, this time, he gently returns.

“Thank you, again, for trusting me…”

“I hope you won’t betray that.”

“I would never!”

Law laughs a bit at your shocked expression, while you smile and kiss his cheek, something you’d started doing more recently. He’s gotten more used to it; it doesn’t affect him the same way it did the first time. He likes it, but tries to make sure none of his crew are around to see it, to avoid any kind of teasing that may come from it.

“See you at dinner, Law!”

“Mm-hm.”

Watching you leave before going back to his desk, Law thinks that went better than he could have expected. He expected more tears from you than he got, but he’s glad he didn’t have to spend several minutes calming you down before you left. He has to take some time to relax himself after dredging up those memories, but maybe next time he’ll tell you some happier ones he remembers, not just about his family but about Cora-san too.

~~

Before he even has the chance to tell you about his time with Corazon, Law is hit with several nightmares, all flashbacks to that night, something he never expected to happen. He believed he’d gotten past it all, but it seems the thought of telling you everything was causing it all to resurface and disturb his sleep (not like he gets much anyway).

He's good at hiding it though, you don’t question the dark circles under his eyes, even if they look darker to you lately. He tells you it’s nothing when you ask, convinced that’s enough for you even though you give him a skeptical look before going on your way. Law thinks you’re going to let it go, he can take care of himself. He’s handled this before on his own, before his crew came to be and he had friends to help him.

He can handle it again, he swears he can.

But it gets worse, especially after Law does tell you about Corazon, everything they went through to save him, and how his savior died to protect him. It keeps you up some nights afterwards, thinking about it all more than you should, and you know that wasn’t Law’s intention. He wasn’t trying to upset you or garner sympathy, it was simply his life story, and he felt like you needed to know. Like he wants you to understand why he’s started the plans he has, with stealing the hearts of other pirates to become a Warlord, the rest of his plans he won’t tell you about for whatever reason.

It probably would be strange to outsiders, but you’re surprisingly okay with it all. You aren’t a permanent member of the Heart Pirates, you don’t need to know all the details.

Still though, you feel like something is off, not with you but with Law and how you two are now. You’ve noticed how tired he is lately, he almost seems to doze off during the crew meetings he lets you in on, at least until someone says his name and it wakes him enough. He still seems to yawn more than normal, it’s what led you to be standing in front of his office door so late tonight, you want to make sure he’s doing okay or see if he needs anything. You feel nervous and you’re not sure why, while you quietly knock on the door and wait to hear if Law calls you in.

When he doesn’t, you open the door and call for him.

“Law? I was going to make some tea and was wondering if you want any…”

You don’t get a response since he’s asleep at his desk, your first thought being that at least he’s sleeping. You’re glad to know that until you realize it is not a peaceful sleep and he seems to be having a nightmare from the distressed look on his face.

Oh that makes so much sense.

You had hoped it was just the stress of everything going on that was keeping Law from sleeping, not that he was having his sleep disturbed by nightmares. Of what, you don’t know yet, but you feel the need to wake him.

“Law? Hey,” you’re quiet as you set your hand on his shoulder, hoping that wakes him, “Law, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

It does work to wake him, but also startles Law to the point he nearly knocks himself out of his chair when he wakes and sits up, eyes wide when he looks at you but not really, you know he’s still waking up.

You mostly know that when he barely whispers ‘Cora-san’ and it makes you realize what he’s been suffering from in his sleep. The memories have come back fiercely and it makes your heart ache for him knowing everything he’s gone through.

You’ve suffered worse than you let on.

Once his eyes focus and Law sees it’s you with him, he worries he’s let things slip about the nightmare, especially when he sees how concerned you look.

“What…[Y/N]-ya, what…what time—”

“It’s after midnight. I was checking to see if you wanted tea but,” he doesn’t say anything but you watch him as he rubs at his eyes with his sleeve, you wonder briefly if it’s sleep or tears he's trying to get rid of, “I noticed you weren’t sleeping well…are you okay?”

No I’m not.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

Law nods, waving your hand off his shoulder before turning back to his desk.

“I am.”

He’s certain you don’t believe him, based on the face you make as you nod, before shaking your head.

“You don’t really expect me to just accept that answer, do you?”

I wish you would.

Before he even responds, you take his hand and pull him up out of his chair, which also surprises him though he is still waking up fully

He doesn’t even fight when you start to drag him towards his bedroom, or when you get him in there and tell him to change for bed, you’re going to go make some tea for the two of you real quick.

While he does get ready for bed, he doesn’t expect you to stay long after you return with the drinks. He fully expects you to hand his over and leave, going back to your room to sleep, not for you to climb into his bed beside him and give him a smile like you’re wanting to talk before going to sleep. Law just stares at you for a moment, before he speaks.

“Do you want to talk about something…?”

“Hmm? Oh, um! Well, I…was going to stay with you tonight.”

“…why?”

You become quiet, Law halfway expects you to decide to leave, telling him goodnight before doing so. You don’t need to stay, he’s fine on his own. He’ll get over the nightmares again soon, he’s sure of that.

“I have nightmares too…about Ace…”

He really shouldn’t be as surprised as he is, but he never thought you’d be struggling like this too. With the fears that come from having witnessed such tragedy and the resulting pain, perhaps he should’ve expected that though. After all the times he’s held you through your breakdowns over Ace’s death, he should’ve known you’d be having nightmares too. But you’ve hid it so well, you’ve handled things all on your own once again, just like he has.

Maybe it’s time we both accept some help.

“Sometimes I…,” you bite your lip before shaking your head, “The nightmares, are about if you hadn’t saved Luffy. So…let me help you tonight, Law…just for a bit?”

“…okay…”

Law isn’t sure how long you two stay awake that night talking, all he knows is that, eventually, he wakes up to someone knocking heavily on his door but he’s not able to move at first. You’ve got his head held against your chest, still fast asleep yourself, no signs of waking but he’s nearly frozen in place when he realizes what’s going on. It takes a moment or two for Law to decide what to do, internally yelling at himself about how on earth this happened and how does he get out of this without someone thinking something scandalous is going on.

He's lucky enough that you release him and roll over in your sleep, he doesn’t have to figure out how to get out of your arms on his own. Now it’s a matter of getting out of his bed without waking you, he doesn’t want to interrupt your own sleep. The knocking stops eventually, Law hears someone mumble to themselves, they’ll probably come back later but he’s got to get out of bed now. He has a chance to get out before you wake or someone catches you in his bed. He quickly slips out, grabs some clothes and goes to his bathroom to change, taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh.

This…isn’t going to be good in the long run is it?

Law isn’t looking forward to having to wake you when he goes back to his room, but he’s lucky enough that you’re gone by the time he gets back. You definitely woke up and had the same thought he did, sneaking yourself out quickly without making any noise. When you see him again at breakfast, you don’t say anything but give Law a smile that he returns with a nod.

No one else knows or finds out, much to the relief of you both, and Ikkaku doesn’t question where you’d been the night before.

While he hates to admit that he did need someone that night, Law can’t deny the fact he’d slept better with you there than he had in months.

+!+

A few weeks later, the Heart Pirates are throwing a party for their captain. Law’s birthday has come around and while he’d tried to tell him no party they still threw one together, even dragging you into the planning though you didn’t need to be asked to help really. When you heard it was his birthday, you were happy to help, having a couple of gifts put away for him as a thank you for all the help he’s given you the last year and a half or so. It's not a lot, just two small things you think he’ll appreciate, even with Ikkaku and Uni telling you he's going to love both gifts, it's hard to think that much about them.

Law, although he said no parties, is not one to deny his crew a night of rest and relaxation. He does try to stay in his office most of the evening, but Penguin and Shachi are able to drag him out long enough to have a drink and let everyone wish him a happy birthday. He’s truly grateful for all of them, thanking his crew with a slight smile. He ends up settling beside you for a bit after Shachi hands him a drink, not pushing you off when you lean against his arm and give him a smile.

“Happy birthday, Law.”

“Mm, thanks.”

While you take a sip of your own drink, Ikkaku catches your eye and gives you a wink, which makes you roll your eyes before Law sets his hand on your shoulder, nodding for you to follow him out of the common area up on deck. Ikkaku makes sure to pass you the wrapped gifts you have for Law when you walk by her, it makes you nervous to keep them behind your back when you both sit on the deck to relax away from everyone. You can still hear them shouting and laughing, a few already a little wasted but it makes you and Law smile.

“You crew loves you a lot.”

“Yeah,” Nodding, Law takes a sip from his drink before setting it down, “I love them a lot too…what’d Ikkaku hand to you?”

“…how the—”

“I’m not blind, you know,” his smirk only makes you pout, as you take the items out from behind you, “Neither of you are good at hiding things.”

“Fine,” you sigh heavily as a joke, but still smile as you hold the wrapped items out to him, “A gift for you.”

Law quiets as he stares at the gifts you have in your hands, before he finally takes them from you. The happy yet nervous smile you have tells him you weren’t really ready to give these to him, but Ikkaku seems to have forced your hand. You don’t seem mad about it though.

“…you really didn’t have to get me anything, I wouldn’t have been offended.”

You shrug a little, knowing it’s really not much, but it still makes you smile to see Law just a bit flustered by it. He obviously wasn’t expecting anything from you, but of course you surprise him once again. It seems like almost everything you do lately endears you to him even more than before.

What a mess we’re creating.

“I know but, I wanted to. As a birthday gift and to thank you for everything,” you watch while he starts to open the smaller gift, heart rate picking up out of anxiety, you’ve never felt so anxious giving someone a gift before, “It’s really not a lot, I just…I thought you’d like these…”

Law isn’t at all surprised to find a coin in the small box, he figured that must’ve been it, he’s so familiar with that size of box and the small sound it made when he picked it up. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s from Foosha Village, your hometown, it has to be one you’d brought with you as a keepsake. The port engraved on one side and the Goa Kingdom on the other, he can pick out the tiniest manufacturing errors and possible imprints on the small coin. It’s special though, he didn’t have one from there in his collection yet and you’ve added to it, how kind of you. He knows if you wanted to, Luffy would take your whole crew back to your home for a visit and you’d pick up another coin or two, you likely aren’t worried about giving one up.

Seeing his face light up a bit at it as he thanks you makes you smile softly, at least until he goes to open the other wrapped gift. You bite your lip out of worry and fidget a bit, not a single thing going unnoticed by Law who almost asks what’s wrong but realizes you’re just nervous for whatever reason. There’s nothing to be nervous about in his mind, until he sees what else you’ve given him, and it causes him to freeze up, which leads to you defending your gift to him.

“I…I found it in a bookstore on the last island…the shopkeeper didn’t want to sell it to me, but I was able to sneak it into my bag and get it out of there. I remembered everything you told me and…I just…”

It's a book about Flevance, the country’s history and culture, everything about the white lead export, the festivals they held, the little bit that was assumed about white lead disease itself. All of it there in his hands now, he didn’t know such a book existed. He would’ve thought any and all traces of Flevance had been destroyed by the World Government, including books detailing the country itself. But they missed one, the one you’d been lucky enough to find and steal from the bookstore, that you thought you should give to him so he had a piece of his home again.

When he doesn’t say anything for several minutes, you start to bite your lip, wondering if you’ve made a mistake. He flips through the book quietly, not making known what he thinks at all.

“I—”

“That’s my sister and I.”

Law finally speaks up again, having stopped on a page for longer than you noticed, pointing out one of the pictures printed on it. You lean in just enough to look, smiling at the picture he’s showing you. The boy is obviously Law, he has the same grin you’ve rarely seen, and the girl has her brown hair tied into small pigtails, smiling just as widely next to him. You hadn’t really read too much of it, just getting an idea of what Law’s hometown was like, but that picture makes you realize how happy he was back then.

“She’s cute.”

“I think,” he interrupts your thoughts and makes you look at him again, “that was during a summer festival. Lami would’ve been four, I remember buying her ice cream and playing a game to win her a stuffed rabbit…she didn’t let go of it for months.”

“She looks like you.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Law scoffs, but chuckles a bit, flipping to another page, “I forgot a reporter had taken our picture then…these are my parents….”

It's another picture from the festival, but this time just his parents are shown, probably having been nearby to make sure their children didn’t wander off. Now you see why he said Lami didn’t look like him, she was a carbon copy of their mom. You never would have guessed those pictures were in that book, or that Law remembered when they were taken.

“…you look just like your dad.”

Nodding, Law closes the book and sets it to the side. He’ll read it fully later, those pictures and the small flip through he’s done are enough for tonight. He has to push those emotions down for now and doesn’t push you away when you give him a hug that he quietly returns, thanking you.

Neither of you moves or says anything for a while, before you look up at Law and speak.

“Hey, Law?”

“Hmm?”

“…tell me that I haven’t misread all of this.”

Law is stunned into complete silence, more frozen than he was earlier, when you lean up just enough to press the softest kiss to his lips, it’s almost like it doesn’t happen but he knows it does. You’ve actually kissed him, his feelings aren’t unrequited after all! The fact you think you’ve misread everything he's said and done the last few months, he just wants to sit and tell you everything now. How he’s been stressed about telling you, he wasn’t sure you really felt the same.

But now he is! The confirmation he’s been looking for despite the fact he was already certain you felt the same. With the way you’ve spent so much of your free time together he should’ve realized it sooner, how everything just led you both to each other every time. Its unreal that this is happening, that you’ve taken that first step to change your relationship with him. He really did think it would never happen, you’d both be forever pining, or the feelings would fade.

Honestly Law’s relieved you decided to take the chance, he wasn’t sure how or when to do it himself. He’s not used to this, what should he even be doing now?

Maybe he should be kissing you back, Law realizes a moment later, when you pull away just enough for him to see the disappointed almost sad look on your face. He’d gotten so caught in his thoughts that you must think he doesn’t feel the same, all because he was so distracted he didn’t think to return your kiss.

“Sorry,” Oh you sound so sad, it nearly breaks his heart to hear your voice, to see you looking away from him, “I…I shouldn’t ha—”

“Don’t,” Law nearly whispers it, moving both hands to hold your face and makes you look at him, “Don’t apologize.”

A barely audible ‘okay’ is your response before Law properly returns your first kiss, letting you slip your arms around his neck while he moves one hand to your waist to bring you a little closer to him. He knows this could be a misstep, that you may come to him in the morning and say you’d drank too much, that it shouldn’t have happened. But for now, he’s going to ignore the thoughts that tell him to stop. That he can’t be doing this, you’re a rival captain’s older sister, it’s not going to work out no matter how much he hopes it does. It doesn’t matter to him, not right now.

All that matters is you.

You and him, right now, with your hands in his hair, his arm around your waist, and his other hand stroking your cheek. It’s almost too much to believe it’s real but it is, he doesn’t know how he got so lucky. To be able to receive your affections and return them. Part of Law wonders if this was your plan all along, to get him away from everyone just to kiss him, even though he’s the one who led you away, but he thinks you didn’t plan this part at all, it just happened.

But it’s okay, he doesn’t mind. Not everything has to be planned down to the letter. You certainly weren’t in his plans.

This really might become a mess down the line, but does that matter? Just for a bit, he’ll ignore everything going on around you, Law will briefly ignore his plans just for a few moments tonight. For the several minutes you two spend in a silent confession of feelings that had built up over the last few weeks, he’s going to ignore reality.

Until you softly push him away, Law wonders if he did something wrong, only to see you give him a shy smile.

“Happy birthday, Law.”

He laughs slightly, shaking his head before kissing you again.

“Thank you, [Y/N]-ya.”

You really can’t wait to tell Ikkaku about this.

+!+

Eventually Law walks you to your room, your gift to him in one hand while you hold onto his other one, fingers laced together and stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. You two haven’t fully decided what you are yet, you’ll discuss it later, he’s promised you that. Even if Law would like to sit and talk things through with you tonight, it’s late and there are things to do the next day. The rest of the crew might be hungover and sick in the morning, but they’ve got to get a move on to the next island, there are more hearts to be collected.

Once you’re back to your room, Law kisses you once more for the night, thanking you again for the gifts, before he heads off to his office. He tries to hurry so you don’t see the pink blush on his face, but you already have, you just don’t tell him. You simply say goodnight in return, going into your room and leaning against the door with a dreamy sigh and smile on your face, which Ikkaku picks up immediately when she sees you from her bed.

“So…how’d it go?”

“I kissed him.”

“What?!”

“And he kissed me back…for a few minutes.”

“Holy shit, you got Law to make out with you?!”

Before you can say anything else, Ikkaku tells you to wait, jumping out of bed to grab your arm after she locks the door and drags you to her bed, making you sit down. She quickly goes to her dresser and pulls out a small wine bottle she’d hidden from the boys and joins you back on her bed with it.

“How long have you been hiding that?”

“Doesn’t matter! Tell me everything!”

The alcohol burns but Ikkaku’s giggling at your retelling of what happened with Law makes you smile and giggle in return. She looks like she’s reading a slow burn romance novel while you tell her everything that’s happened, giving Law his gift and kissing him, how he returned it and said you’ll talk about things later. She rolls her eyes a bit at that but the few yawns you give tell her that was probably the reason why he said that.

Once you finish telling the story, you sigh again and fall back on her bed, still smiling while Ikkaku watches you.

“That was my first kiss…”

“Really??”

“Mm,” you nod a little, thinking back and knowing that’s true, “I wonder if it was his too.”

“Probably. Captain hasn’t shown interest in anyone before, I’d be surprised if he’s ever kissed anyone that wasn’t on a dare.”

You look like you’re thinking, but Ikkaku smiles before she takes a drink of the wine and lays beside you.

“This is so cool, you and Law. I knew there was something there when I saw you two working together.”

“Oh please, I doubt he’s liked me that long.”

“You never know! Imagine he’s liked you since Amazon Lily!”

“Now that’s way too far back!”

The two of you stay up laughing and talking, the few worries you have about what’s next dissipating as Ikkaku tells you everything she’s noticed that led her to believing Law liked you, it makes you so much happier to know your feelings are reciprocated.

After he makes it back to his office, Law nearly collapses on the ground, his energy spent and his emotions going haywire.

The gifts you’ve given him, the kiss you shared, he doesn’t know how to fully process all of it. It’s so foreign to him, he doesn’t think he’s felt so happy since the time he spent with Cora, he’s sure he hasn’t felt this loved since then either, even though he’s sure you’re not in love with him yet.

Law sets your gifts on his desk, he’ll put them away in the morning, placing his face in his hands to try and stop the blush he knows is there and the smile that he can’t seem to wipe off no matter how much he tries to. He tries to calm himself down, tell himself this isn’t a big deal, maybe you will come by in the morning and tell him it was a mistake, but he hopes and prays you don’t.

I can’t believe she kissed me. I didn’t expect that…

“Heeey, Law, I’m heading up for night watch,” Penguin knocks on the doorway a bit, stepping into Law’s office as his captain just nods, making him raise an eyebrow, “Something good happen, Cap?”

“Yeah…yeah, something good happened.”

+!+

It takes a few weeks still for Law to ask to take you on a date, but you waste no time in accepting the offer. He tells you not to let it out to anyone, but you may have slipped up and told Ikkaku when you asked for her opinion on what to wear. The two of you sounded like schoolgirls with how you were giggling and chatting over the fact Law actually wanted to take you out for a date, your feelings aren’t one-sided, he really does like you back! It only feels so strange to know that because of how Luffy and Ace would chase off boys that liked you way back when, even if you liked the boy back, your brothers couldn’t stand the thought of one of them taking you away. None of them were good enough for you.

You think Ace would’ve liked and approved of Law. Even though he’s older than you, if they’d been able to meet, you’re sure Ace would have liked Law, liked the fact he’s also a doctor, and that he makes you happy so far.

The night of your date doesn’t really go as planned though. Everyone except Ikkaku, Bepo, Law, and you are off the ship, exploring the town you’re docked near, Law had sent them all out with a day off and stayed on board along with you to get ready for your date and make sure no one was going to find out about it. He’s not ready for the teasing that’s to come and wants this to stay as secret as possible.

Once you’re dressed and ready, you expect Law to come get you from your room like he said he would at the time he’d told you, but he’s late and you start to worry when it gets later and later.

Had he changed his mind and decided to stand you up? No, no Law would never do that, if he didn’t want to go out with you he would’ve said so, he probably never would have asked in the first place.

Right? Right. Law wouldn’t leave me without an answer.

Again you’re at his office door, knocking to see if he answers and once again, you receive no response. He hasn’t left the ship you know that, Ikkaku said she saw him in his office just a few minutes before he was supposed to come get you, so what happened?

“Law? Are you ready to go?” Still no response, so you decide to again let yourself in, you aren’t prepared to see Law is still in his office, but appears to be passed out on the floor, it actually scares you.

“Law!! What happened?!” You hurry over and make sure he’s still breathing, relieved to find he is, before checking him for a fever. “What the hell, Law, are you all right?!”

What a way for your first date to start.

~~

Law never wanted you to know just how nervous he really was about your first date, he kept it all to himself. He only let Penguin know about it by accident, to get some advice that he thought might be helpful, but his friend only ended up telling things not to do. He rolled his eyes and gave up on that, only asking if it was normal to feel like he was going to be sick at the thought of taking you to dinner

“Yeah for a first date, that sounds normal, Cap.”

“How do I get rid of it?”

“I…well…go on the date and see?”

Yes, very helpful advice. It didn’t help with the constant dizzy feeling he had, though Law thinks that may have been slight dehydration from his nerves causing him to forgo all water and food that day. He really didn’t want to risk actually throwing up before or during your date and grossing you out.

Unfortunately, all of it hit him at once when he was leaving his office to go get you, causing Law to realize how badly he’d neglected himself that day, and the day before, as he passed out without the chance to call for someone’s help.

But when he opens his eyes a while later and sees you giving him a worried smile, he knows he’s screwed up. He blinks a few times, barely registering that he’s laying down on the couch in his office, he knows he hit the floor. He can feel the pain in his head from it, yet he doesn’t mind too much feeling your hand in his hair or his head in your lap.

“Hey, you.”

“[Y/N]-ya…?”

“In the flesh.”

“What…what happened…?”

“You tell me,” giving him a concerned smile, you gently run your fingers through Law’s hair while he looks up at you like he’s thinking, “You were late coming to get me, I was worried you’d changed your mind…when I came to see what was up, you were passed out on the floor. Bepo helped me get you here.”

“I…I don’t remember,” he shakes his head a bit before sitting up, finally remembering what it was and groaning, “Wait, yes I do. I was about to come to your room, when I started to feel dizzy. I…guess I passed out…”

“Do you have a fever? Are you feeling okay? We don’t have to go out if you’re sick, Law! We can do it another day.”

Law really doesn’t want to admit the reason for his dizziness and sudden fainting, once he realizes what caused it all, he doesn’t want you to feel bad about something you couldn’t control. It’s all on him for stressing out so much about the date, he just wants to impress you. He's never done this before, dating isn’t in his skill set.

“…Law?”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”

He gets up so quickly you don’t have time to stop him, but still follow and grab his arm.

“Hey, talk to me,” you make him turn to face you, smiling softly even though he doesn’t look at you, he’s keeping his eyes on the ground, “Whatever it is, I won’t be upset. If you want to postpone, that’s fi—”

“Why do you even like me?”

“What—”

“There’s nothing good about me,” Law moves to pull away from you, but you keep your grip on his sleeve, not letting him get away, “I’m not a good person, you deserve someone who is. You deserve someone who can make you happy, not…not me…I can’t do that…”

The silence feels deafening, when you don’t respond right away. He’s sure you’re rethinking all of this now. His birthday when you kissed him, the few times in between then and now where you’d stop him to kiss his cheek and he’d return it with one to your forehead, how he’s walked you to your room each night, and the few times he’s let you share his bed for the night. When he finally decided to ask you on a date the other day, even though you gave him the brightest smile he’s ever seen from you, he doesn’t believe you could be happy with him.

Who could ever be happy with him, with someone who’s seen so much death in his life, at only twenty-five, when he’s bent on avenging Cora and stopping Kaido?

Why would you want anything to do with that?

“I…am happy, though,” you move to hold Law’s hand, placing your other on his face to make him look at you, “I like you, Law. I really do and I feel happy when I’m around you, you can ask Ikkaku. I tell her all the time how much I like you, how much I want to be with you.”

“You don’t—”

“I’m not lying. I don’t know what you’re thinking about us, and that’s okay right now, but I…I can see myself with you now and in the future. I promise, Law, you make me happy, just by being you.”

Law doesn’t have a chance to say anything before you kiss him, trying to convince him of your feelings being real. He’s hesitant to return it but does so after a moment, before you pull away with a smile.

“…you look nice.”

“Thank you…you do too.”

“I…I was going to take you to dinner.”

“Oh yeah?”

Law nods, wanting to explain better, before you start to sit down, still holding his hand to bring him to the floor with you. When he tries to speak, you just shake your head.

“It’s my turn to ask a question.”

“What about—"

“Will you tell me about your tattoos?”

Law doesn’t pull his hand away from you, while you continue hold it and gently run your finger over the cross on the back of his hand, he has to fight not to just intertwine his fingers with yours.

This isn’t how he thought your first date would go. Not you finding him passed out from stress and turning it into simply talking. He knows already he’s going to make it up to you with a proper date at the next island.

“For my family, and for Cora-san…” he points first to the ones on his hands and forearms, placing his free hand on his chest to point out the one for Corazon though you could’ve guessed that.

Humming, you nod, Law brings his other hand up to softly tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek and watching you lean into his hand.

He really is very sweet.

“For your crew?”

“My jolly Roger on my back.”

“…what about for you?”

Law takes a deep breath but doesn’t say anything for a bit. He keeps holding your hand, staring at his own, wondering if he should admit it or not. What will you think? Will you decide you don’t want to bother with him?

You probably read the book you gave him, the one about Flevance, he could tell the book had been read. It didn’t go into detail about his home’s destruction, chalking it up to the white lead disease and scarcity of resources, but he wasn’t surprised when he got there himself. The government would never admit wrongdoing, they’d never allow their involvement to be published.

But he thinks you should know. You haven’t walked away after hearing his story, his past, you’re still here with him. You look like you already know what he’s going to say, a sad smile now on your face as you look at his hand in yours.

“’Death’…for what’s marked my life since I was ten.”

He’s quiet, like he’s worried he’s going to scare you off, like he’s marked you for death just by developing feelings for you, allowing himself to entertain the thought of being with you. Everyone he’s ever loved has died, it could be the same for you if trends are anything to go by. It wouldn’t be fair to you, to Luffy, if anything happened simply because you’ve chosen to be with him, Law doesn’t want anything to happen to you. You’ve both been through things, of varying degrees, what could you want with someone like him?

Law tries to pull away from you, you’ve been quiet for so long now, he thinks he’s effectively squashed your feelings for him, you don’t want to be with him now, he's sure of it.

But you don’t let him get too far away, wrapping your arms around him and laying your head on his chest. Law isn’t really sure what to make of this. It’s not like before, when you’ve hugged him other times, you’re still quiet yourself though you nod.

“I don’t think that’s true anymore…not with this crew, this family you’ve built.”

“[Y/N]-ya—”

“I’d like to stay by your side and prove you wrong,” you tighten your arms around him as Law finally returns your hug, tighter than you even expected, “if you’ll let me.”

“…as long as you’ll have me.”

You both stay quiet for a bit, eventually you look up at Law and give him a soft smile before leaning up to kiss him again, which he returns without any hesitation this time.

It'll take some time for him to be fully comfortable and accepting of this, of the love and attention you’re ready to so freely give him, but you’re willing to give him that time.

Anything to make sure Law knows you aren’t going anywhere, even when you have to return to your crew. You’re not going to let him go very easily.

[mysunshinetemptress]

I love you

Alexia Putellas x sisters best friend reader

Warnings: fluff, slight angst,

Alexia hadn’t always liked you let alone love you, to her you where her little sisters annoying best friend who would do anything possible to annoy her daily. She would huff and roll her eyes every time you would bounce over and ask for her to watch a dance both yourself and Alba had just come up with, or slam her bedroom door in your face anytime you knocked, you where a constant pain back then.

But to Alba you were her best friend who had been there for her through her worst and best times. Alexia and Albas father had died when Alexia was 18 and Alba was 15 with you still being 14 and you had been Albas constant being there from the beginning of their worst nightmare until Alexia decided to shut you out. It was something you always brushed off stating it was understandable you weren’t family and Alexia simply wanted to mourn such a massive loss with her sister and mother in private much to Albas dismay who constantly stated she needed you and Alexia had no right to push you away in that manner, especially when she knew how much you loved her sister.

Alva had been there for just as much as you had for her especially when her sister had began to date her teammate Jenni Hermoso breaking your heart in the process. Alexia didn’t know of your feelings swearing Alba to secrecy but her constant show of affection towards Jenni at the Putellas family home saw you avoid the house much to the older girls delight.

Alexia didn’t think she could dislike you anymore until in her words you “tried to take Alba away from her home.” You had been accepted into the Paris Opera Ballet School at the age of 18, she had screamed at you much to your, Eli and Albas horror, once again you had left the Putellas house on the older girls wishes only this time you didn’t return, instead you said goodbye to your best friend and boarded a plane. A year later Alba flew out to you and never looked back instead she began flying around the globe with you as you began your professional Ballet career stating you need a reminder of home (her).

But now at the age of 25 you where heading home for the first time, you where taking a well deserved break before your next contract started up opting to travel home to spend time with family and friends.

That’s how Alexia found you relaxing on the couch in her family home “Y/n.” You turned looking at the eldest Putellas smiling softly “Hola Ale.” Alexia looked at you stunned “you…you are home.” You nodded “Sí for a while I have a break in my contract so I thought why not.” Alexia nodded unable to take her eyes off of you “well eh..it’s nice to see you.” You smiled brightly at her “it’s nice to see you too Ale.” Alexia let out a nervous laugh before rushing into the kitchen to find her mother as Alba trotted down the stairs “what was that.” You let out a huff “that was me realising I might still have feelings for your sister Al.” Alba smacked you laughing “dios mío, y/n you told me you where done with her the night you left.” You shook your head “I know but Al, I forgot how hot your sister was.” Alba through a pillow at you head as you laughed.

You spent nearly every day at the Putellas house like the old days only this time Alexia didn’t seem to care as much, maybe it was the fact she had her own place now but you often found her sitting watching movies with you and Alba or sitting at the dinner table having coffee in the morning. What blew your mind altogether was when she invited you on a night out with her teammates, “Alba will be there, but I just thought I would ask you know incase you wanted to meet them or just go out for the night.” You smiled happily nodding “I’d love to, eh I’ll be here at 7pm.” Alexia couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach “sounds good Osa.” You couldn’t help but blush at the nickname remembering back to when the word adesoso used to follow after it.

You had been panicking since 4pm on the phone to Alba “I don’t have clothes Al.” Alba huffed “yes you do amor, wear the black corset and trousers you know the leather ones and your boots you look hot in them.” You rolled your eyes “ok are you sure.” Alba rolled her eyes “you could wear a bin bag and Ale would think you are hot.” Three hours later you were stood outside the Putellas house nervously talking yourself up to ring the doorbell looking up suddenly when you head Alexia’s voice “Joder, eres preciosa.” You looked down as your face reddened “Gracias Ale.” You finally looked up staring at the older girl “wow Ale you look wow.” Alexia shook her head before grabbing your hand and pulling you in the door shouting out to Alba that you were here and ready to go.

Arriving at the club you scanned the room before catching eyes with Barcelonas best known defender “Mapi.” Maria turned on a dime laughing as she ran to scoop you up “Bebé pequeño.” You laughed at the nickname you kissed her cheek as she put you down not turning as you felt a hand on your back thinking it was Alba “how are you amor, what are you doing here, oh I have someone I want you to meet.” You laughed at Mapi’s excitement “Más despacio,Maria.” The hand left your back as Mapi dragged you towards the crowd “Mi Vida I have someone you have to meet.” You froze slightly at the sight of the tall Norwegian until she smiled brightly at you “Maria did you kidnap a ballerina.” Mapi looked confused “eh no, this is Y/n mi Bebé pequeño.” Ingrid shook her head “no you kidnapped one of the best Ballerinas in the world.” You laughed shaking your head before putting your hand out to shake Ingrid’s hand “Hola, I’m Y/n.” Ingrid looked surprised as you leaned into Mapi “how do you two know each other.” You both looked at each other and laughed “Ale and Alba.” Ingrid looked even more surprised before you began to explain “I grew up with Al, and then when I moved to Paris to study Alba followed me over a year later.” Ingrid looked stunned “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched you perform either live or on screen you are incredible.” You felt your cheeks reddening at her compliment before a hand grabbed your back again, once again assuming it was Alba you relaxed into their arms “My friends are actually trying to organise seeing you in Vienna.” Finally the voice behind you spoke causing you to stiffen “Vienna.” You turned looking at Alexia “sí, I leave in two weeks to begin rehearsals and then my next show is in Paris and then my agent said something about dancing in London.” Alexia felt her stomach drop “so when are you coming home.” You looked at Alexia confused “probably not for a while, why you aren’t going to miss me.” You laughed half heartedly but stopped at Alexia’s frowning features “of course I will.” You shook your head “you hate me.” Alexia sighed “I don’t hate you Osa, I’ve never hated you.” You wanted to push further but Alba grabbed your hand “Come on show off those moves we all know you’ve got.” You couldn’t help but look back at Alexia eyes softening as you looked at the frown spread across her face.

You had been dancing for hours getting lost in the moment with Alba like you both normally did, although this time you couldn’t help but look for Alexia sighing every time you noticed her talking to someone else before shaking your head and going back to dancing. You stiffened suddenly as an unknown hand wrapped around your waist before someone began speaking to you “Hola, guapa.” You turned looking at an unfamiliar face before smiling nervously “hola.” You turned looking for Alba before seeing her talking to a girl “it’s ok she’s with my friend.” You looked at the strange woman confused “ehh ok.” You quickly looked at the table of Barcelona players trying to catch someone’s eye but finding no one, you couldn’t help but squirm uncomfortably as the girls hand stayed on your waist squeezing it before you turned to Alba grabbing her hand “Al Por favor.” Alba simply brushed you off to busy batting her eyes at the girl she was flirting with “Al.” You tried again only to feel the random girl pull you towards her “hey why don’t we go get a drink.” You shook your head “no gracias.” But she wasn’t taking no for an answer as you put your hands on her shoulder trying to push her off you. You gasped quickly as you were pulled into a different pair of arms relaxing immediately as you took in Alexia’s perfume unable to stop the gasp you let out “Ale.” Alexia ignored you pulling you before she grabbed Alba “Al we are leaving.” Alba turned to argue before she caught your eyes and a worried expression spread across her face “what, what happened Y/n.” Alexia huffed “you would know if you took your head out of that girls ass and stopped flirting with her.” Alba huffed pulling her sister back towards her “why do you care.” Alexia shook her head “leave it Alba, I’m not doing this here.” Alba shook her head not taking that “no we are, you have hated Y/n since our friendship started, you haven’t made it a secret so don’t try to deny it.” Alexia huffed “I don’t hate her.” Alba cut her off “yes you do.” Alexia was getting angry “no I don’t, I love her.” Alba looked at her sister surprised “I love her, I’m in love with her.” You looked surprised at Alexia “you love me.” Alexia turned to you shocked “well….i…..ehm.” You grabbed the older girls face pulling her into a searing kiss “I’ve wanted to do that since I was four years old.” Alexia laughed kissing you again “let me take you home Osa.”

You groaned lightly turning to see Alexa’s relaxed features as sleep took over her body until she groaned at the sound of the knock on door until Eli pocked her head in “Gracias a dios, you grew a pair Ale.” You couldn’t help but laugh “hi Eli.” Eli smiled at you “Papa would be so happy.” Alexia looked at you smiling softly “I know, he told me if she wasn’t going to be his daughter in law he would disown me.” You laughed pulling the older girl into a kiss “slow down mi amor, you only admitted to your love to me yesterday.” Alexia sighed happily “yeah but I know this is forever.”

[sparkling-ariaria]

Marauders Era fics I read and want to keep...

*Complete fem or non-specific reader insert fics*Upd: 25.05.2023

Poor bunny by robynlilyblack - Remus x Reader Y/n doesn’t understand why her friends are lying to her every month, so on one full moon she follows them…

The girl with the books by solemnarration- Remus x Reader James and Sirius notice that it’s not the books that keep Remus in the library, and are determined to know whether you – the object of Remus’s affection – return his feelings.

Beautiful by acosmis-t - Remus x Reader Comforting insecure Remus.

The gist of it by yellow-berrys - Remus x Reader You’re meeting Remus’ mother for the first time, and it’s overwhelming for her how lovely the house is.

One where he teaches you how to play the Piano by proserpina-magnus - Regulus x Reader

From a distance by still-blue-sky - Regulus x Reader Reader has a major crush on the mysterious Regulus Black and has always observed him from a distance. She never thought that he would feel the same until proven otherwise late at night in the library.

A snake and his little bird by robynlilyblack - Regulus x Reader Y/n has been keeping her relationship with a certain Black brother secret, but when James starts investigating why she's always stealing the map she's in hot water.

Smart cookie by robynlilyblack - Sirius x shy!Reader Sirius needs a tutor for herbology and he happens to be granted the shiest girl in the world to help him, luckily, he happens to love that about her.

Dote on me by yellow-berries - modern!Sirius x Reader You are completely oblivious to the way Sirius black dotes on you, and think that the way you're infatuated with him is completely one-sided. But he begs to differ.

Dealbreaker by luveline - Sirius x Reader You work in a bookstore. Sirius keeps finding reasons to need books.

Forbidden words by padfootagain - Sirius x Reader You've been dating Sirius for a while now, and it's been going wonderfully well. However, when you finally confess that you love him, he find himself unable to say it back. It will take time for him to be ready to say these three forbidden words out loud, but if there's someone who can make him overcome his inner demons, it's you.

Pumpkin's father and your lover by justyoursimpleflower - Sirius x Reader Sirius and you find a kitten, apparently she is a matchmaker.

Vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche by acosmis-t - Sirius x Reader

Sirius drabble by sxriusblxck - Sirius x Reader Cuddling with Sirius after a long day spent together.

Still pretty by upsidedownwithsteve - Sirius x Reader Drunk Sirius, something cute and fluffy.

Sirius visits you at work by magicchai - Sirius x Baker!Reader Sirius showing up with flowers for his girl at work when she's having a bad day.

I can't focus because I can't keep you out of my head. by perpetuallydaydreaming - James x Reader 5 times James got distracted because of you.

Gorgeous distraction by gtgbabie0 - James x Reader James trying his best to study while you distract him.

And I love her by dilf-lover99 - James x Reader The 3 times James tries to get the girl and the 1 time he finally does. Or In which James Potter is hopelessly in love with his best friend.

You'll be in my heart by once-upon-an-imagine - James x Sister!Reader Hurt/comfort with James where a guy is making her very uncomfortable by hitting on her when James wasn’t there.

SB piece by familyvideostevie - grumpy!Sirius x sunshine!Reader Reader gets a phone call from Remus about her boyfriend moping away in a club.

E prometti domani a tutti parlerai di me by littlest-dark-age - Sirius x Reader Soft Sirius making a flower crown for his love.

Regulus dating someone from Hufflepuff by magicchai

Remus' remedy by magicchai - Remus x Reader Remus has the perfect remedy to fix his girlfriend’s migraines.

[aphroditelovesu]

Hello, can you do a headcannon Yandere (father) King Henry and Yandere (mother) Anna Boleyn with their only surviving son?

❝ 👑 — lady l: I really like the idea of ​​them being platonic yanderes for a son, so I hope you like it! Forgive me for any mistakes and good reading! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, overprotection, mention of miscarriages, murder and implied cheating and toxic relationships.

❝👑pairing: platonic yandere!henry viii/anne boleyn x son!reader.

Anne was desperate to conceive a male heir, her only hope of staying alive and maintaining the interest of the King who, after some miscarriages and the birth of a daughter, has already began to wander towards one of her ladies-in-waiting.

So when she discovered a new pregnancy, she desperately prayed for a son and that she wouldn't suffer another miscarriage. She could not bear the loss and pain. Henry was pleased with the new pregnancy, but worried. Anne had already had several miscarriages and was only able to produce one healthy child, a daughter.

Anne took great care of herself during her pregnancy, taking care of what she ate and drank and trying to maintain good health. The first few months were the most tense, with fear enveloping both Anne and Henry. As the pregnancy progressed and there was no miscarriage, Anne became more confident.

When the day finally arrived to give birth, she was anxious. Henry was also anxious and he was so nervous when he heard Anne screaming outside the room, he didn't know what to think. When a baby's cries finally came after what seemed like hours, he entered the room.

Anne held her baby on her lap and cried softly and when a doctor approached Henry and said, "Congratulations, Your Majesty. You have an heir", it was the first time that Henry felt complete happiness. When he picked you up, he was smiling from ear to ear. Not only were you the much-desired male heir but you also saved your mother's head.

Both of them would be extremely overprotective of their only son and those close to you will be scrutinized. Henry has become very paranoid about your safety and takes every precaution possible.

You are always by your mother or father's side, you cannot be alone at any time with a stranger. Anne, especially, would like to keep you sewn to her side all the time. She cares about you a lot and is always checking up on you. When you get sick, she becomes paranoid that you will die.

You are your parents' greatest pride and Henry doesn't try to hide it. He neglects all his other children and gives you all his love and affection. He takes you for walks, hunting and spoils you with all the perks that a future King deserves. In addition to showing you off before the Court. After all, you are the future King.

They are both very proud of anything you do. Any milestone, no matter how small, will be applauded by them. Your first words, the first time you walked and everything else will be treated with great celebration. Expensive parties are thrown in your honor all the time.

As you grow up, they become even more overprotective and controlling. Anne does not want you to leave the Court under any circumstances and Henry allows you to do so, but only with many guards. There were many threats lurking and they couldn't let anything happen to you. May God forbid anything from happening to you as the results will be disastrous.

Anne hates it when you spend time with other people, especially if they are women. The only women you need in your life are your mother and your older sister, Elizabeth. Although she understands that's a part of a man's life, she still doesn't like it and any potential mistress or love interest will be dealt with quickly. She is your mother, so no one has more right to you than her.

Henry is more than aware of his wife's actions and although he doesn't encourage them, he doesn't reprimand her. In fact, he's probably the one who encourages you to enjoy your life even if it always leads to fights with Anne. It was worth it when you looked happy. And your happiness is very important to him.

Your potential friends will be scrutinized and if your parents don't like them, they will leave. Henry and Anne won't sentence them to death at first, but if you or they are stubborn, they will be tried for treason. Don't you understand that you shouldn't trust anyone other than your own family? Your parents are the only ones who want the best for you.

Henry and Anne are smothering and protective parents but they only have your best interests at heart. They want you to live a full and happy life, but with them by your side. You were everything they both wanted and they would be damned if they let anything happen to you. England still does not know the fury of its monarchs nor the overwhelming love they feel for their only son.

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Loving Arms (5)

Summary: The children of Viserys I from his wife Alicent Hightower had always been lacking in affection from their parents. They simply didn't realize how much until their widowed aunt was brought into their lives. (AU where Alicent has an older sister and her kids get the love that they deserve, takes place some time after the Driftmark event)

Part V - Setting an Example

|| Loving Arms Masterlist ||

A/N: I meant to post this to celebrate Matt's b-day, but I forgot that we share a birthday 🤣 and I got caught up with other stuff, but I hope you all still enjoyed it. Don't forget to comment!

Divider credit: @saradika

Sit still and look pretty.

It was one of the first lessons that (Y/N) Hightower (nee Martell) remembers receiving when she was still a young girl; receiving her lessons and instructions from the Septa, her Mother, and additionally her Father. It was a simple enough thing to follow, even at the tender age of four, when it was just she and her older brother Gwayne that took their lessons together.

But losing their mother, Otto leaving she and her brother behind in Oldtown, and being disfigured by the age of seven.

Sit still and look pretty, didn't hold as equal of a weight as it used to.

When her Septa tried to recite that same lesson again after all of those things happened, it would be the first time of many in which (Y/N) chose to talk and fight back against the rules that they tried to place upon her.

In fact, it was truly a change for her life when the Septa brought the girl to her Uncle Hobert and Aunt Lynesse expecting that the couple would agree that this was a lesson that she needed to take to heart, only for the Septa to be dismissed. Instead the Hightower couple would teach her a different lesson that she would apply for the rest of her life.

Sit still, listen, and prove every bastard wrong.

Never would the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower believe in her entire life that the uncle and aunt who were as equally traditional to the same values of her father, would teach her to break the norms and expectations that had been long since been established in the family.

A lesson and many more that were never told to her Father, in every letter written to his younger brother, Hobert Hightower would praise her progress in the things she was taught but never specified that the girl was learning alongside Gwayne to one day take over the leadership of a house.

Whether it was that of house Hightower or another.

The discussion between Viserys and (Y/N) was one that was quite overdue, because despite having met before when his children were quite young, neither had much to talk with one another back then. When she left the room, there were a few things that Viserys had conceded and signed in agreement, so she was ultimately satisfied with the uprooting of some of the things that they had come to agree.

Walking out of Viserys' study, she decided to seek out the children for a moment of reprieve considering that discussing with the Targaryen King had felt taxing on her patience. She left the room without a glance to the guard that had almost impeded her discussion with the King and instead left with quick strides to hopefully find the children enjoying themselves in the garden or training yards, as she had been adamant to make sure every last tutor that had originally been employed was gone.

It wasn't long before the elder Hightower was able to find her nephews and niece exactly where she had assumed they would be. Halaena was happily sprawled in the grass and leaning to look at some variant of bug that she must have found, Aemond sat on the stone bench by her and was reading a tome in Valyrian, and Aegon was surprisingly sitting contently beside his sister eating a cookie from the satchel in his lap.

"Well is this not the most pleasant sight?" she laughed. "Last I heard, the three of you could rarely stand to be in the presence of one another."

"We were waiting for you, muña" Halaena looked up. "You took quite a while and we thought it would be more pleasant to wait here in the garden."

"Neither Halaena or I believed when Aegon first told us that our tutors and the septas had been relieved of their positions. But this has felt like the longest day of my life" Aemond pouted. "It has been positively dull!"

"Well I am not one to complain," Aegon grinned and offered up his satchel of snacks. "It has been pleasant to enjoy the gardens without anyone to nag."

Their muña happily took a cookie from Aegon's satchel and plopped herself tiredly on the grass, "I figured that there would be a mix of reactions from the three of you but things had to be put in order." She looked between them, "I sought an audience with his graceful Majesty, King Viserys the Peaceful and had some things put into writing and sealed."

The children looked at her in surprise and uncertainty of what this could possibly mean for all of them.

"Might we inquire as to what those things are?" Aemond asked while setting aside his tome.

She hummed in thought, "Well I see no harm in all of you knowing. After all, it pertains to your futures and much of how things will be going forward."

She waved the children closer and hesitantly all three inched forward until they sat in front of her. "Due to the graciousness of the King, from this day until you are all married, I have become your caretaker of sorts. It has been decreed Halaena and Aegon will no longer be married."

The two were ecstatic and threw their arms around their lovely muña, whispering their rushed and tearful thank you's, one of their great fears would never come to be. With soft assurances from their aunt, Halaena and Aegon hesitantly pulled away while wiping away their tears.

"How did you get our Father to agree, muña?" Aegon sniffled.

"Ah," she laughed. "Never underestimate the stubborness of a woman willing to take risks. Often times, it is better to sit at the table, listen to what is said, and do all that you are capable of proving that something can be done."

"But I imagine that there is more, isn't there?" said Aemond.

"Plenty more, but it is perhaps better if I were to summarize it all" she said but the clattering sound of armor made her turn.

Ser Criston Cole approached the group, a frown marred his features and hesitantly the man gave a short bow when he stood before them. "I apologize for the interruption, but I came to seek out the young princes for their training only for a servant to tell me that their lessons had been dismissed."

The Targaryen children's muña stared at the man with a curious look, "Dornish man, are you?"

"I beg your pardon, my lady?"

"Your family hails from Dorne, do they not? Your appearance and the way you speak has hints that you were raised in the Dornish Marches" she pointed out. "My husband was a prince of Dorne."

Ser Criston knelt on one knee, "Forgive my impertinence, princess. I am Ser Criston Cole of House Cole, my house is in service to House Dondarrion."

She waved the man off, "No need for the formality Cole. I presume that you are my nephews previous master-at-arms."

"Previous, my lady?"

"All who taught my nephews and niece have been relieved of their service, ser" she said plainly.

"But I have served faithfully to House Targaryen for a number of years and there has never been complaint of my teachings."

"That is all well and good ser, but going forth, I am the one who has say over the education of 'ahibaayiy and until you have proven yourself to me. Then you can serve in any other capacity, but not with them."

His gaze betrayed nothing as their eyes locked, "Has the Queen and Hand been made aware of these changes?"

"Would you like to be the messenger?" she tilted her head and smiled.

He swallowed nervously, "Am I given a choice?"

"We are always given choices, Ser Cole" she leaned closer until their noses almost brushed. "What choice will you make?"

"I would like to prove myself, my lady" he said softly. "Given the choice."

"Then set to prove that you are still worthy of being their master-at-arms, and prepare to have an additional student, as Halaena will be joining my nephews soon. Is that understood?"

The man nodded and hesitantly rose, offering the group another bow and walked away.

Halaena softly broke the silence, "I will be joining my brothers muña?"

"Yes, my love. Because tell me, what did you and your brother witness right now?"

"You were talking to Ser Criston?"

Their muña shook her head, "Not just the obvious."

Her nephews and niece looked confused at what else she was asking them to point out.

"You witnessed me setting that man as an example," she smiled. "He doesn't truly know what position or power I hold, but I was able to have him fear speaking to your Mother and Grandsire, made him aware that I was in control of whether he would still be given a chance to prove that he could serve."

"How will you have us learn to do it, Muña?" Aegon asked.

"I will be highly involved in your teachings, because not everything that is taught are the things that you should learn" she said.

This only further confused the children and the faces they made had her laughing heartily.

"Seems as if I have my work cut out for me, don't I?" she giggled. "But let's make this our first lesson and remember it well; sit still, listen, and prove every bastard wrong."

This caught the three Targaryen's off guard and their shock made them laugh at her blunt choice of words.

"Perhaps my words sound a bit much, but let me tell you this" the three paid close attention. "No one in this world will give a damn about you, if you don't pretend to do it yourself. As much as I would love to say that humanity is kind and loving, everyone has something to gain."

"What about you, muña?" Aemond asked. "What do you have to gain?"

"That is for me to know and the rest of the world to find out," she smiled. "But I hope you are ready to learn as much as you can from everything that I have learned."

[neteyamsheart]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 – 𝐃. 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺, 𝘈𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k

𝐓𝐖: 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘋𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘢��, 𝘈𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴'𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺, 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘯. 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳: 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘰'𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘵.

It was difficult. Difficult for Malfoy's wife, Astoria Greengrass, to understand her husbands withdrawal–the lifeless look in his eyes, the loss of appetite–every May, around the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts 3 years ago.

Typically, he was the loving and devoted husband she adored: bringing her favorite flowers after long days of work, listening patiently to her rambles, and reciprocating her affection.

But during May, he became a completely different person, haunted by the day he ended up losing you.

–

Astoria vividly remembered the first time she had met him, as a young girl visiting the Malfoy estate with her family. Coming from a pure-blood family, she often attended these meetings though they were extremely boring.

That day, her mother was awfully anxious, reminding her, "Darling, remember to speak nicely and become friends with their son, Draco," whilst nervously adjusting her black gloves.

Her father, far more relaxed, greeted the Malfoys like old friends, immediately sparking a discussion of the Ministry's troubles as her mother was swept away by Narcissa to discuss recent pure-blood marriages.

Feeling out of place, Astoria stood awkwardly by her sister as the manor's grand doors closed behind them. The Malfoy manor being too cold and empty, much to her disliking. It was the complete opposite at her home which was fully encompassed in warmth and comfort.

"Astoria, I'll be a moment," Daphne, her older sister, suddenly said, nudging her forward, "Find something to do. I'll be there later when mother calls for dinner".

Astoria nodded slowly and began to wander aimlessly through the manor, just passing through the living room before a sharp voice stopped her.

"Greengrass, what are you doing just wandering about."

Astoria turned to see platinum blonde hair, a boy older than her, staring at her blankly with piercing gray eyes–an air of entitlement surrounding him. Her heart raced as she stood frozen, being drawn into the intensity of his gaze and his alluring confidence as he leaned against the doorframe, a flutter of excitement igniting in her chest.

Then, it immediately dawned on her who he was.

Draco Malfoy, the boy her mother encouraged her to be friendly with.

She watched his expression contort into a mixture of curiosity and annoyance, hinting at the layer of arrogance that she had heard so much about from others. But in that instant, time stood still, and the feeling as though a spark had been ignited made Astoria realize this was more than a passing attraction–something profound.

The beginning of her journey to falling in love with Draco Malfoy.

–

When Astoria became a 1st Year at Hogwarts, Draco was in his 3rd year and Daphne was in her second. Having not seen the older boy for a while due to school at Hogwarts, she was excited to see him again in hopes that they would kindle a strong friendship and possibly something more.

But her hopes were short-lived when she learned of you, and your relation with Draco.

You were a Slytherin, like him in your 3rd year, but unlike many in your house, you were more kind-hearted and well-liked by many of the students. Never once did you trample on others or comment negatively about other students.

Yet, at the same time, you were just like the other Slytherins. You were prideful, loyal, and cunning when you needed to be.

So to many, it was a surprise knowing that you were one of Draco Malfoy's closest friends. Though the two of you weren't especially close during your first year, over time your bond deepened and the two of you developed an unspoken understanding of each other.

You knew each other so well to the point where words became unnecessary, communicating effortlessly through shared glances and gestures. This unspoken language was enough to convey everything the other was feeling.

So, every day to Astoria, watching the closeness between you and Draco was unbearable and incredibly difficult. But, she never stopped trying to achieve that same level of closeness with him: inviting him to study sessions, engaging in Slytherin's Quidditch Practices and cheering loudly for him during games to receive a smug smile from him whenever he noticed her in the stands.

However, she quickly began to realize that all of this was futile. Why would anything she do matter when he had you?

You, who never needed to ask him to participate in activities. You, whom he had invited to the Yule Ball and asked to accompany him on every Hogsmeade trip–always remembering to buy you your favorite candy from HoneyDukes. You, who he was always side by side with, chatting and laughing so carefreely.

You, who brought out a different side to that arrogant, prideful boy–wiping away the familiar sneering and haughty look from his oh-so-handsome face.

Astoria was jealous of you. Extremely jealous. It was so painful for her to watch from the sidelines, feeling no matter how much she liked Draco, you would always come first.

There were times she often wondered if there would ever be room in his heart for someone other than you. Would she be overshadowed by your connection? Would he still think of you when spending time with her?

She'd figure that out soon enough. Even when she would find herself in rare moments with Draco, talking about their similarities, she could see him peeking over her shoulder in the library to stare at your figure as you laughed with friends from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.

It was then that she knew, you would always be the center of his attention.

–

During the final moments of the Battle of Hogwarts, Astoria frantically looked around for Draco and Daphne.

Despite knowing he was on the Dark Lord's side, she still loved him dearly, harboring the same emotions she felt ever since she was a little girl.

But as she turned the corner, she saw Draco kneeling over you, as if the two of you were in your own little bubble. His body trembled violently as he cradled you so gently, grasping at your figure with such a tightness as if he never wanted to let you go.

All the chaos of the battlefield began to fade out as Astoria watched Draco whisper soft words to you–words she couldn't hear but feel in her bones and soul–as you looked up at him hopelessly with a sad smile on your face.

Tears streamed endlessly down Draco's face as your lungs tightened and your eyes began to close; Astoria slowly saw Draco reveal a vulnerability he rarely ever showed–so different from his typical cold demeanor.

She watched silently, remaining unnoticed, as tears brimmed in her eyes watching the melancholy scene unfold in front of her. Oh, how she wished it was her he was crying over.

Draco hadn't taken notice of her until he lifted your body carefully in his arms, facing Astoria with a raw look in his eyes clearly filled with love and heartbreak.

Astoria's heart ached.

This was something she'd never seen before. Something she knew only belonged to you.

–

Since then, Astoria had always known: she was simply a placeholder of you.

Still, she had hopes of being capable of taking your position.

She chose to pursue Draco, somehow becoming his "girlfriend" a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, and his "wife" two years after.

But deep down, they both knew that titles like "wife" and "girlfriend" carried little meaning in the shadow of his true love for you.

But Astoria wanted to be selfish. She chose to put her desires first.

So despite knowing that if you were still alive, Draco would leap into your arms, abandoning the life Astoria and he had built just to be with you again, She didn't care.

So, every May, Astoria chose to be reminded of your significance to Draco.

She chose to hopelessly cling onto an opportunity that would never come–the chance to be Draco Malfoy's true love, one that would forever belong to you.

Authors Note: my first fic ever! please enjoy <3 also GUYS PLS IGNORE MISTAKES IM FIXING THEMMM AS WE SPEAK

divider creds:: @issysh3ll

[nebuladreamerrr]

“Where is mom?”| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary:  After a day filled with the profound exertion of bringing your second child into the world, a moment of tender anticipation arrives: it's time for your eldest to meet her new sibling.

Warnings: English is not my first language

After enduring six grueling hours of labor, you finally welcomed little Jules into the world—a spitting image of his father. As the nurse reassured you of his perfect health after all the tests performed to check both his heart and hearing, your thoughts drifted to your daughter, Manon, and how she might be feeling on this momentous day.

"Are you okay, my love?" Kylian's concerned voice interrupted your reverie as he made skin-to-skin contact on the couch in the room with Jules.

"Do you think Manon is okay?" you whispered, trying not to disturb the baby sleeping in your husband's arms.

"Honey, everything will be fine. You know she's with my mother, and if she was sick or something had happened, she would have contacted us," Kylian reassured, his voice gentle and soothing.

"Yes, Kylian, but she's not used to changes, and today has been anything but routine. Could you text your mother and ask her to come today instead of waiting until tomorrow to meet the baby? And to bring Manon with her, please," you pleaded, concern evident in your tone.

"Of course, my love. But try to relax and rest. I'm sure she's fine and just eager to cuddle us," Kylian said, gently laying Jules in his cot before enveloping you in a comforting embrace.

Your concern for Manon might have seemed excessive to some, but your motherly instinct told you otherwise. You knew your daughter well, and despite the joyous occasion, something deep down told you she wasn't having a good day. It had been a challenging few months for your family, especially for her. Manon was accustomed to being the center of attention, the youngest grandchild and only daughter of doting parents. Kylian, in particular, showered her with affection, earning her the title of "daddy's girl." Even on days when he had to travel for matches, he made sure she knew she was always his little girl. They had a ritual: before each pre-match training, he recorded himself telling her a story, allowing you to play it for her at bedtime. Often, she fell asleep hugging the mobile phone that displayed her father's face.

When you found out you were pregnant again, you couldn't help but worry about Manon's reaction. However, she surprised you by being thrilled at the news. Her excitement grew when she found out she was going to have a baby brother, and her joy was more than evident at the baby shower, where she participated enthusiastically as the one who popped the balloon revealing the gender of her baby brother.

But not everything had been smooth sailing in the past few months. Manon quickly grasped the concept of becoming a big sister. You couldn't blame her; you knew you and Kylian had indulged her, but how could you resist? So it wasn't surprising when she cried inconsolably as Kylian explained that she would have to stop sleeping in your double bed because the baby would need a lot of nighttime care. If she slept with you, she wouldn't get much rest.

Similarly, there was something you hadn't told Kylian in any depth because what little he knew had broken his heart, and had ended with him clinging to you as you both wept inconsolably, apologizing to her for having to leave home. But your little girl wasn't coping well with having to leave France next year, and you couldn't blame her. She had only just started kindergarten this year and had managed to make many friends at her little school. In addition, this year she had managed to start going to a ballet academy where she felt like a real princess in every class. You completely understood her frustration and understood how everything she knew would quickly cease to exist. There would be no more afternoons in the park, no more afternoons playing with Navas' children, and even your little girl would have to get used to another teacher and other doctors. But you knew that this was the best thing for Kylian and that he deserved to fulfill his dream. So you tried to convince your little girl, assuring her that she could still talk to her friends on your mobile, and you would keep in touch with their mothers so that, as soon as you returned to France for a holiday, your little girl could see her friends.

So when Fayza got that call, she couldn't have been happier. It was customary for her granddaughter to stay at Fayza’s home, but it had been exhausting trying to distract her when her little mind was elsewhere. Fayza had done her best to make the day entertaining, but it had started on a rough note. When your water broke at five in the morning, Kylian took you to the hospital, and they had to make a quick stop at Fayza's house to drop off your daughter. Fayza had prayed that her granddaughter would fall asleep quickly, as she had on many previous occasions, but it wasn't meant to be. Manon stayed awake all day, and by seven in the morning, Fayza had given up trying to coax her to sleep.

She had tried to make the day better by preparing her granddaughter's favorite breakfast, little Mickey Mouse waffles, accompanied by a good session of her favorite cartoons, but the plan failed when she barely took a bite. No matter what Fayza tried to cheer her up, the day wasn't working: not playing princesses, not a Disney movie marathon, not an afternoon with her uncle Ethan, who decided not to go out with his friends to try to improve his niece's mood. But when the clock struck five in the afternoon, the little girl couldn't take it any longer and cried inconsolably missing her mother.

Your daughter was very attached to her father, mostly because he was the father figure she saw the least of in her day-to-day life. As long as Manon felt you were close, everything was under control, but that day you were far away from her. Ethan quickly tried to calm her crying by singing her a little song while holding her in his arms and moving around the house. That calmed her for a moment, but both Ethan and Fayza knew that if the little girl did not see her mother that day, none of the household would be able to sleep that night.

Fayza tried to encourage Kylian about her little girl's state of mind by commenting that if they needed quiet and rest, it might not be advisable to take her to the hospital. However, Kylian played it down, thinking that her mother was simply worrying too much.

With a smile, Fayza turned to Manon and said, "Honey, put your coat on, we're going to see Mommy.”

Your little girl quickly buttoned up her coat and rushed out to the car. During the car ride, Fayza tried to explain to Manon that the hospital room would contain not only her parents, but also her little brother, but she barely paid attention when she sensed that they had arrived at the hospital. Strategically, Fayza quickly sent Ethan to buy a bouquet for you, knowing that when she unbuckled her granddaughter's car seat, she would jump out regardless of whether she was carrying a gift for her mother or not.

So when they asked where the room you were in was, Manon bolted for the lift and led the group as she walked down the corridors of the hospital looking at the different room numbers until she saw it: "Room 350".

She quickly opened the door and, catching a glimpse of your figure, couldn't help but burst into tears as she threw herself onto your hospital gurney, waiting for you to take her in your arms.

"My baby girl," you said as you looked worriedly at your daughter's reaction. You knew that her behavior had nothing to do with how she had been treated at her grandmother's house, where you knew she had been treated like a princess. But even though your maternal instinct had sensed it, you didn't know it was that bad.

Manon's constant crying caused little Jules to burst into tears as she woke him up from his warm sleep, which made your daughter cry even harder.

"Kylian, I think I'm going to go outside with Manon to soothe her. You can stay here while you introduce Jules to your parents," you said, making an effort to get up.

"Honey, you've just given birth. It's not advisable to stand for too long," said Kylian as he stopped you from getting up.

"Well, you're going to explain to me how we reassure our daughter because logically she needs a moment alone," you replied sharply. You hated talking to Kylian like that, but you felt that no one understood how much pain your princess was going through. You knew that with a few sweet lullabies, you could calm Jules down, but your daughter wouldn't be soothed so quickly.

With a short sigh, Kylian exclaimed, "I'm going in the next room with Jules and my family while you try to calm her down, okay? But don't make any sudden moves, please, I beg you. I'll be right back, sweetheart," he said, placing a small kiss on your daughter's head.

When the room fell silent, you couldn't help but ask your daughter why she felt that way and what was going on in her little head. Although many might think it was jealousy, it was quite the opposite. The little girl could not understand that you would not abandon her. So many things were changing in her daily life that she could only expect more changes. When she noticed the absence of both of you, she was frightened. She was used to Kylian's absence, but you had never been gone so long. Even when you were sick, she would lie on your breast while you watched a princess movie and wait for you to recover enough until you had the energy to play again.

After a long time of cuddling and stroking her hair, your little girl managed to calm down, but she stirred restlessly in your arms when she noticed someone opening the door to the room. However, she calmed down again when she noticed it was her father.

"How is my little princess?" exclaimed Kylian before lifting her nimbly into his arms as he gave you a look that begged you to tell him what had happened.

As she gave your daughter little kisses and caresses, you told him what had happened. "She was afraid that we were gone and that we would disappear from her life.

After hearing that, your husband's heart couldn't break more. "My love, that will never happen. Dad and mom love you so much and we will always be by your side. We could never abandon you," he said as he left delicate kisses on her little head.

"You promise?" your daughter asked with teary eyes. 

"Of course, sweetheart," he replied. 

After an hour of cuddling and enjoying a few moments with your firstborn, you decided it was time for her to meet her baby brother.

"Manon, would you like to meet Jules?" you asked cautiously.

Surprisingly, her reaction was a huge smile as she nodded her head repeatedly. Quickly, Kylian allowed his family back into the room as they relinquished Jules so that Manon could hold him in her arms with the help of her parents.