#the light of dorne
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The Realm's Guiding Lights
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Mahira Dayne ✧ The Light of Dorne The Lights of The Realm serve as shining examples of wisdom, beauty, and prosperity, to guide noble and commonfolk alike through the darkest storms and into new dawns throughout The Seven Kingdoms. All married ladies with children and families of their own to nurture and lead, the title cannot be earned through, elegance, wit, or fortitude alone, but only by weathering her own personal hardships and emerging with an indelible brightness she wields to guide those who seek light in the midst of storms she herself stands as dazzling proof we all may yet survive. Our Ruling-Lady of Starfall and Light of Dorne, Lady Mahira, is written by Drizzle on @mahiraofdorne and she is particularly searching for her niece and daughter in law, Princess Coryanne Martell, as well as her daughter and heir, Lady Arianne Dayne and her younger sister, Dowager-Princess Loreza Martell. Overall, she would be thrilled to welcome any and all of our open characters in House Dayne and House Martell. home — wanted —navigate — apply — discord
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hadeswearsprada · 2 years ago
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STAR TREK Picard Episode 10 Worf and Riker 1|?
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swordcoasts · 1 year ago
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pov they saw you from across the tavern and they really hate your vibe
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ginny-anime · 8 months ago
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My mothers
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nerdalmighty · 4 months ago
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Taborr does what he wants. Bad, good, whatever. I just wish we knew why.
Lys Solay in "The Team Up" on Young Jedi Adventures
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ride-thedragon · 7 months ago
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Can't wait for the horrendous discourse surrounding the unfortunately inevitable Conquerors spin off about the black folk they'll inevitably have to cast to keep in line with the lore they've created.
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atopvisenyashill · 11 days ago
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i was gonna post jeor mormont but idk i'm nervous for Northern Fancast Posting because I would say My Vision Of Northern Coloring is like, idk, it makes sense to me? idk about everyone else.
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gabrielsantar · 2 years ago
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it is soo funny to me how upset garro gets in flight of the eistenstein when rogal dorn is hesitant to believe him because it’s like, you’re telling him some of the biggest news in the galaxy that has earth-shattering implications for the entire imperium and that he has a personal emotional stake to disbelieve, and when dorn is like Okay.  Allow Me To Confirm Your Story With The Scopes Consortium, garro is like okay. guess i’ll just kill myself since you don’t believe me so much
but it’s only funny because the reading order just before that is horus rising, etc+ where loken and horus spend every book like
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psychondric · 2 years ago
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Is there a dance within XIV that you could see your character doing? How about any real-world dances? Are they much of a dancer or do they tend to have two left feet?
Ooooh I like this question! Ive had some thoughts at least for Terra and Auvo before, but now that I have 7 blorbos, we’re really putting on our thinking cap now. I’ll divide my answers by each lad/lady.
Auvo Earendil
He knows how to dance and he can definitely show it. Despite being a sellsword/mercenary, he’s picked up a few skills outside the ones used for survival. He’s surprisingly good at navigating him and his dance partner around the ballroom dance floor. Upon first glance, you wouldn’t think he’d enjoy dancing, but he does! I haven’t found an emote in-game yet that best fits him other than the obvious Bee’s Knees. The Songbird dance works well when he’s in a teasing/playful mood. For real life dances, he knows his way around Kpop choreography. With his skills as a monk, he’s probably well versed in Hip-Hop
Terra Griseis
I’m sorry to my beloved tiger but he cannot do any choreography. He tries his best, but he’s got the spirit at least. If he could, he’d do the Popoto Step or Get Fantasy. For some odd reason he’s really good at DDR though. He likes to dance with Freya, Y’shtola, and G’raha though! Freya and Shtola are the ones that take the lead and try to teach him to be a little more coordinated. The idea of dancing with Terra or Freya turns G’raha into a flustered mess so they’re the ones that lead. If there’s one dance he’s at least got down it’s…the Manderville dance (including the mambo).
Arséne Cadieux
When I did fencing, my coach told us to treat it like a dance because that’s what it felt like on the mat. He was right. Seeing Red Mage, I can definitely say this Elezen can dance thanks to its melee abilities. On top of that, Arséne is a man of class. With friends in seats of power, he’s had his fair share of balls and banquets he’s attended. Ballroom dancing, Tango, Salsa, etc. He’s probably learned it.
Takumi Daisho
He *can* dance, but he’s not very good at it because he’s shy. Takumi feels a little embarrassed with the idea of him dancing in a room with a bunch of people watching his moves. Lyse usually takes the lead. She’s quick on her feet (he’s not) so he struggles to keep up at times. He wants to work up the courage to be able to take the lead one day and impress her though.
Ginyo Suyo
If you’ve ever seen iCarly and watched the episode where Spencer goes on a pranking spree and then dances, that’s Ginyo. He doesnt do any traditional dances but he’ll definitely do something! (Here’s the video for reference: https://youtu.be/egoH5FgB4co)
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Batu Dotharl
Do the Dotharl dance??? I have no idea on this one but I’d like to think they do at least for celebrations. However, Batu has no interest in dancing. It’s not her thing and she’d much rather spend her time fighting than “prancing around” as she says. I’d like to think part of the reason she says she doesn’t like dancing is because she can’t do it to save her life. Sadu can never know.
Kiarae Dorne
She has a love for dance, which is why she trains to be a Dancer later on in her story. She’s the only character I have that is genuinely taught to dance professionally. Everyone else does it for funsies except for Arséne who knows how to dance due to Ishgardian noble standards. Kiarae isn’t a fighter so she just works in the Rising Stones, but her dancing helps bring up morale in the same way the Dancer class in Fire Emblem: Three Houses functions. I think in real life, she would be drawn to and specialize in Flamenco.
Thanks for this question! ^^ I had a ton of fun answering and took my time with it. And thanks for taking an interest in my blorbos!!
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lightningandfireinmybones · 2 years ago
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I’ve been on a work trip most of this week but the one thing long plane rides are gonna do is get me to WRITE
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aemondsbabe · 1 year ago
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The Gods and Everyone
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summary: you and aemond sorely overestimate how much time you have before a small council meeting, which leaves the two of you in quite a scandalous predicament
pairing: aemond targaryen x reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, cockwarming, public sex, slight breeding kink, fingering, aemond being an absolute menace, dirty talk, aegon being a little shit but what else is new, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 5.6k
a/n: based on an anon request for cockwarming! i hope you're still with me and that you enjoy this, friend! sorry it took me so long to get to it!
creds to @bbygirl-aemond for the gif!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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You watch, concerned, as your husband flits around the Small Council chamber, your eyes following his lithe form as he checks and re-checks the parchment with notes he had written for himself earlier that morning – you’d awoken in the pale hour just before sunrise to see him already hunched over the small desk in your chambers, scribbling away furiously with a quill, his pale hair glowing in the dim light of the candle next to him. All of your attempts to lure him back into bed with you had fallen on deaf ears. 
“You know you needn't do all this,” you point out, perched against the Small Council table, your eyes tracking him as he paces back and forth across the space, going over his notes for the upteenth time, “Your only job is to be on time like everyone else, husband.”
“Things will improve with time,” he rushes out, fixing you with a pointed look, “Hardly two moons have passed since Viserys…” He pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose, “The least I can do is ease this transition for Aegon and mother.”
“My love, it is a transition for us all,” you soothe, striding to him and gently taking his hand. His fingers, rough from all his years of training with swords and spears, instantly wrap around your own as he lets out a tired sigh, “You included. Aegon named you Master of War, not master of everything.” 
“I know,” Aemond murmurs, eye softening as his gaze traces over you, “I find it hard to be still when there is so much chaos – Dorne has yet to be subdued and there are whispers of rebellion from the North. There is so much still to be accounted for.”
“I understand,” you reassure him, your fingers threading through his long, silvery hair, lips quirking into a smile as the gesture makes his eye flutter closed for a second. “But all this stress cannot be good for you, husband,” you sigh, gazing up at him with a mournful smile, “You need rest and calm and…and I need you.” You nearly whisper, blush creeping across your cheeks as Aemond’s eye darkens. 
“Sweetling—“ He starts with a sigh. 
“Aemond, please,” you cut him off, wrapping your arms around his trim waist as you lay your head against his chest, his heart thumping in your ear, “I cannot bear to hear another excuse, I feel as if you have been away for weeks.” 
He’s quiet for a moment, wrapping his long, lean arms tightly around you as he rests his chin on your head, your breaths the only sound in the stony chamber. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, smoothing a hand up and down your back, “I miss you too, my sweet girl.” 
You hum, leaning further into his embrace after going without it for so long, “You haven’t touched me in weeks.” You say quietly, his touch already igniting a spark in the pit of your stomach. 
“Perhaps tonight,” his breath is warm against the top of your head as he speaks into your hair, “I will try to cut my meeting with–”
“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” you cut him off once more with a sigh, pulling back to look up at him, “I can’t take anymore, my love, I need to feel you.” You whine, nearly petulant like a spoiled child. If it were any other time, if you were any less desperate, you’d be embarrassed at your behavior. Right now, though, you could not find it within yourself to care as you stared into your husband’s darkened eye, finally feeling the passion you had gone so many weeks without. 
Aemond chuckles as he looks down at you, conflicted between feeling pleased to see you reduced to such a state while also feeling a similar fire in his own belly. “Sweetling, the meeting–”
“Is not due to start for at least another hour!” You interrupt, determined to persuade him to this. Taking you in various parts of the Keep was not new to him, both of you had plenty of memories from your courtship and first year of marriage of rutting together in all sorts of nooks and crannies of the old castle. 
Aemond gazes at you for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face, though his eye remains dark with desire. After a second, he nods to himself almost imperceptibly, seeming to come to some decision you weren’t privy to. Finally, finally his lips descend upon yours as he sweeps you into an all-consuming kiss, his arms tightening around your waist as he pulls you to him, groaning lowly in his throat as he licks into your mouth. You shiver in his grasp, finally tasting him properly after so long as you whimper and whine into his mouth.
“Aemond,” you gasp as you finally part from him, mewling as he immediately trails kisses down your jaw, “What–”
“Seems I can never deny you for very long, sweetling,” he huffs, halfway laughing as he guides you over to the large table, pulling you up by the waist until you’re sitting on the cool stone table, your legs bracketing his trim waist, “I’ve missed you too, my love.” He confesses, sweeping a lock of hair from your shoulder before trailing kisses up across your neck and jaw, one hand already desperately pulling up the bottom of your gown.
You huff out small moans and whimpers, relishing his warm touch. His nimble fingers finally manage to undo the knot at the front of your smallclothes and he tugs them down quickly, leaving you bare for him under your skirts as they fall to a pile on the floor just beside his chair at the table. 
“Husband,” you pant, tugging at the drawstrings at the top of his trousers, “Please, please do not make me beg today, I–” Your train of thought is cut off as a moan, louder than it should be given the location, tears itself from your throat when you feel his long fingers ghost over your center.
“Shh, darling,” Aemond grins as he feels your arousal immediately coat his fingers, a pleased hum emanating from deep in his chest as he feels it already coating the insides of your thighs as well, “I don’t have the patience to restrain myself today, sweet one,” he mutters, watching your face carefully as he spreads your folds and teases your entrance with a finger before carefully sliding it in, groaning with satisfaction at the feel of your walls already tightly clamping down on it, “Nor the time.” He adds with a slight smirk, pale hair cascading like a curtain down his shoulders as he leans his forehead against yours. 
“Oh, Gods,” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut as your hands white knuckle the dark leather of his tunic, too uncoordinated with lust to manage the ties on his pants, “M-My love, more please!” You whisper, angling your hips to try and catch another of his fingers. 
You hear him chuckle above you before he pulls his finger from you, smirking as you whine pitifully at the loss. Before you have a chance to protest, he quickly undoes his trousers, not bothering to pull them down at all and opting to merely loosen the laces at the front enough to free his cock. Your eyes widen as you watch his hand stroke over his length momentarily, taking in the way it already throbs in his grasp, the head flushed and leaking from merely having you in his hands once more.
“Ready, sweetling?” He asks, gently tilting your chin up as he captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his other hand positioning his length at your entrance. 
You part from him and nod eagerly, widening your legs and angling your hips, “I’ve been ready for you for weeks, Aemond.” 
He smiles softly, pressing one more kiss against your neck before finally pressing into you, growling as he sinks into your slick heat. “Seven,” he grunts, cradling the back of your head with one hand as his other slinks down to grab at your hip, “You feel better every time, sweetling.”
You moan hotly against his shoulder, sinking your teeth into the thick leather of the shoulder of his tunic in an attempt to quiet yourself. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feel of him sliding into you, filling you to the brim perfectly. You’ve been without him for so long that he feels enormous, your walls aching as he stretches you out, pressing in and in until he’s finally seated fully within you. 
Without another word, Aemond started thrusting into you, slow at first but quickly picking up the pace with every firm roll of his hips into you. After only a moment, he’s already grunting like a madman into your ear, holding you to him even as you cling tightly to his shoulders yourself, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist. 
You feel a fire building in your belly at a breakneck pace as he ruts into you, the hand on your hip no doubt leaving fingerprint bruises across your skin, even through the fabric of your gown. If the low groans from your husband are any indication, he isn’t doing much better. He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you into a desperate kiss, teeth and tongues clashing together frantically as if the two of you are trying to fall into each other, to become one. 
“My love, I—,” he pants against your lips, jerking your head back by the grip he has on your locks. His eye meets yours, the light lilac almost entirely eclipsed by his pupil as he stares at you hungrily, “It’s been so long, I don’t know how long I can last.” 
His breath is warm as it fans over your lips and you nod dazedly, zings of pleasure radiating up your spine from Aemond’s grip in your hair only adding to the warmth quickly threatening to overtake you. “It’s okay,” you swallow thickly, eyes already rolling back with pleasure, “I can’t either.” 
Nodding in return, he picks up the pace, the head of his cock rutting against the most sensitive spot within you hard enough to make you see stars. He hasn’t even needed to tease your pearl and you’re already nearly unraveling as Aemond mumbles nearly incoherent praises, the hand on your hip traveling lower, nearly cupping your ass. 
Just as you’re about to warn him of your inevitable release, muffled voices sound from behind the thick wooden doors that lead into the Small Council chambers. Aemond slows within you as both of your heads swivel to the doors — just in time to hear the guards stationed outside begin to tug them open. 
You freeze, eyes widening as the doors open, seemingly in slow motion. Thankfully, your husband moves quickly enough for the both of you, nimbly scooping you into his arms before hastily dropping down into his chair, hurriedly scooching it forward until both of your laps are hidden under the stone surface of the table, before kicking your smallclothes under the table at the last second. 
Your head whips around to face Aemond and you give him a panicked, wide-eyed look just as people start filing into the room, unaware that you’re still being split open by your husband’s length. One hand, still on your hip, tightens, silently commanding you to be still as his lilac eye pleads the same; his other hand is already poised on the table, relaxed against the cool surface as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. 
“Yes, yes, we must certainly ask him once he’s back in King’s Landing,” Lord Tyland’s voice fills the chamber as he walks in, engaged in a conversation about something or other with Lord Corlys, the two sharing a laugh before finally taking notice of you and Aemond, “Prince, princess.” Tyland bows his head at the two of you with Corlys following soon after. 
You sit frozen atop your husband, gazing blankly at the two men without a word. Thankfully, Aemond has the presence of mind to bow his head politely, though he stays quiet. As they walk further into the room, you can only see Tyland and Corlys from the corner of your eye but you don’t miss the odd look they share, silently asking each other why you were present and certainly why you were sitting on Aemond’s lap. Blood rushes to your head so quickly you feel lightheaded, your cheeks stinging as a harsh blush quickly appears on your face from their attention. 
Maester Orwyle files through the doorway next, doing a double take at you and Aemond before bowing his head, a gesture that you thankfully remember to return this time as you stiffly nod your head. Thankfully, the older man simply takes a seat at his place at the table without any comment, though you can hear the two other men speaking quietly in the corner of the room, throwing glances your way as they do. 
Your walls tighten around Aemond’s length as the rest of you tenses up when Larys creeps in, leaning against his cane as he moves; Aemond thighs tense underneath you as you hear him suck in a breath, only slightly more hasty than normal — the hand in your hip tightens, warning you to keep it together. 
“Prince Aemond, princess,” Larys nods as he approaches the table, “To what do we owe the pleasure of such… intriguing company?” He questions, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes ever so slightly, his eyes bouncing between you and Aemond. 
Your head spins as you stare straight ahead, willing yourself to respond, to say anything, to appear somehow normal. Yet, nothing comes out as your center throbs uselessly around Aemond, your head cloudy with need as your eyes stare ahead blankly, though registering just enough to pick up on the small smirk playing at the corners of Larys’s lips. 
“My wife appears to have taken ill this morning,” Aemond drawls from over your shoulder while affectionately petting your waist, a gesture entirely for show, a lie to placate the men in the room, but it comforts you nonetheless. He clears his throat before continuing, the only tell thus far that your warmth around him is affecting him at all, “My presence brings her great comfort, I see no reason why she should be without it.” 
“I see,” Larys hums in response, his dark eyes sweeping over your form, sparkling ominously as if he knows the truth, “What shame, let us hope the Gods grant you reprieve from this…illness soon, princess.” 
“Yes!” You finally squeak, snapping back to attention as Aemond just barely squeezes your side, “Yes, let’s hope so. Thank you, Lord Larys.” You breathe, managing a smile small. 
You shift on your husband’s lap and immediately you know you’ve made a mistake as the head of his cock prods directly into that overly sensitive patch within you, nearly making you topple over on the spot as a small groan escapes you. Blessedly, you have enough presence of mind to cover it up with a cough, sparks jolting down your back as Aemond presses a soft kiss to your cheek, one of his hands coming up to rub soothing circles against the back of your shoulder. 
“There, there, sweetling,” he says softly, again, entirely for show as you put on your best performance, “Once the meeting is over, we will have the servants make some tea for you, that will help with that cough.” Even if it was for show, you couldn’t help but shiver at Aemond’s low voice, at how he’s being so soft and caring with you. That, combined with the incessant prodding to your sweet spot, has you throbbing around him, your heart hammering in your chest. You can hear Aemond suck in another barely there gasp behind you, a groan low enough to remain silent rumbling against your back while at the same time his hand almost imperceptibly twitches on the table; his composure makes you feel all the more lightheaded, blushing somehow deeper at the fact that he’s taking you apart this easily without so much as moving a muscle. Your thighs trembled atop his lap, the insides already sticky with your arousal as you struggled to stay still, silently thanking the Gods that at least your laps were hidden. 
“I’m sorry,” Corlys began, striding over from his spot in the corner with a sheepish look, “I really feel I must speak up, this is really most unusual.” He finishes through an awkward laugh, Tyland following closely behind him as they saddle up to the table. 
“What is most unusual?” Alicent asks, entering the Small Council chambers with Otto, followed closely after by Aegon and Ser Criston. Her eyes sweep over the room, pausing when she sees you, though she quickly corrects herself with a soft smile. “Ah, my dear,” she nods hello to the various men in the room before sitting at the table, “May I ask why your wife joins us, Aemond?” She peers at him curiously, throwing a nervous glance at Aegon who is smirking far too much for her liking as he slinks up to the table. 
“It seems the princess has fallen ill, your grace,” Larys answers quickly, slyly smiling as he turns to face the dowager queen, “Prince Aemond insisted she stay so that she may be…comforted.” You quickly look away from him as his eyes meet yours once again, piercing through you as though he can see directly through your gown. 
“Yes, which is most odd,” Tyland butted in, throwing glances between you, Aemond, Alicent, and Aegon, “She is not a member of the council, she should not be present. Surely there is some way the princess could be comforted that does not involve being privy to government matters.”
Aemond stays silent behind you, glaring daggers at Aegon over your shoulder, watching carefully as he traipses over to the table and stands at its head, his eyes never straying from his brother’s as they stare one another down. The other members, some reluctantly, take their places at the table as well, each of them standing so long as Aegon does, though you and Aemond remain seated; your eyes never stray from the marbled surface of the table.
“Aemond, please,” Otto sighs from his place next to you, “The least you and the princess could do is stand for–”
“I see him everyday,” Aegon interjects, breaking eye contact with your husband as he rolls his eyes, “I don’t give a shit if the fool stands.”
Your eyes dart up at that, shocked that Aegon isn’t taking the chance to thoroughly humiliate Aemond by putting him on the spot. The king’s violet eyes meet yours, sparkling with a mischief that makes your center flutter around your husband’s length – Aegon’s smirk grows as if he knows exactly what just happened. A thin sheen of sweat makes you feel clammy as Aemond’s cock twitches inside of you, pushing him against your sweet spot all the more. 
“Very well,” Alicent swiftly cuts in, determined to keep the peace, “Shall we get st–”
“Are we really going to allow for the presence of–” Corlys starts, only to be viciously cut off.
“She stays,” Aegon says flatly, shooting a bored look at the man, “If anyone has an issue with the princess’s presence they may take their leave.” His violet eyes pass over the room, almost daring anyone to move. Everyone remains still, though you can feel Tyland and Corlys glaring at the side of your head, and after a moment, Aegon takes his seat followed by everyone else; blessedly, the meeting finally begins. 
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The Small Council meeting drones on and on, with various conversations of coin and ships, concerns abroad in Essos, and other diplomatic matters that mean nothing to you. In the back of your mind, you know it’s hardly been any time at all but it feels like an eternity has passed with Aemond’s hard length still piercing into you, twitching against your pulsing walls every so often. A part of you wonders if he does it on purpose, gives you just enough stimulation to cruelly tease you before going stock still once more. 
The small, unnoticeable to everyone but you, hitches of his breath tell you otherwise and deep down, you know he’s just as affected as you, no doubt steadily leaking into you, though you dare not consider the thought for very long. 
“Aemond,” your breath catches in your throat as Otto directs his attention to your husband, everyone else's gaze quickly following, “Any further communications from Dorne?”
Behind you, your husband clears his throat and you feel him shift beneath you, sitting up slightly straighter in his seat, both hands now clasping your waist to keep you steady on top of him. “Negotiations with the Dornish remain stagnant,” he begins as you practically wilt on his lap, the added attention from the council members making the knot in your belly tighten in a way you shudder to consider, “We received a raven from Prince Qoren some days ago rejecting any dealings with the crown, no matter the amount of coin we have to offer.” He finishes, pointedly looking at Tyland, who proceeds to butt in.
As soon as the attention shifts off of the two of you, it’s like the air around Aemond changes, becoming charged all of a sudden as you feel his chest heave against your back. At the other end of the table, Tyland begins to raise his voice, debating hotly with Corlys and Otto, drawing the attention of everyone else to them. 
“Do you think you can be still?” Aemond whispers, his breath hot against your ear although his voice is barely audible even to you. He must sense you freeze on his lap as the hand on your hip begins to move slowly, dragging your skirts up your legs until his hand can slip underneath them, making you tremble as he grips the soft skin of your thigh, “Tighten around my cock if you can be still.”
Against your better judgment, you do as he says, tensing as you clench your walls around him; his only reply is a low growl against your back. He stays still for a moment, trying with all of his might to appear as if he’s taking great interest in the ongoing argument taking place. 
Finally, once he’s positive everyone is too preoccupied arguing over coin to pay attention to either of you, his deft fingers slip through your folds before finally twirling against your aching pearl. 
You have to bite harshly at the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, trying to keep your breathing steady as you focus on not moving even though you so badly want to rut your hips against his fingers as they rub against you. 
Aemond swallows thickly behind you as he slowly circles his fingers, careful to keep his pace light and steady to not stir up any slick sounds from your wet cunt, though he longs to hear them. 
Your elbows rest against the top of the table, your hands clasped tightly in front of you. The conversation around you seems to shift as Otto begins prattling on about some Tyrell woman finally being with child. Aemond’s fingers suddenly pinch at your sensitive bud and a gasp tumbles past your lips before you can stop it, drawing everyone’s attention. 
“Is everything alright, princess?” Alicent questions from across the table, her dark eyes narrowed with concern. 
You nod quickly, coughing to conceal a moan as you open your mouth to answer her, “Y-Yes, I’m sorry,” you apologize with a weak smile, “I’m just so pleased for the Tyrells, what a j-joyous time this must be for them.” You say quickly, stumbling over the words as your core clenches tightly around your husband’s cock, his small touches driving you steadily to your peak despite the circumstances. 
Alicent gives you a curious look before quickly collecting herself, “Yes, I’m sure the family is quite thankful, children are always such a blessing,” she smiles politely before turning back to her father, “Please, continue.” 
Otto’s voice hardly reaches your ears as he picks up where he left off, though you don’t miss the horribly put out looks you garner from Tyland and Corlys. 
Aemond’s fingers just barely speed up as they swirl over your bud, though the small change is enough to drive you wild and you can feel the way his chest heaves against your back as your walls twitch around his length, threatening to milk his cock dry without him having to move an inch. 
The heat that has slowly been building within you finally begins to bubble over and your husband’s fingers show no signs of stopping as he pushes you closer and closer to your breaking point. The hand of his that has been resting idly on the table top comes over to casually rest against your clenched hands and rubs soothingly up and down your forearm, Aemond’s silent way of telling you he knows you’re close. 
Your eyes flick around the room as you feel your peak threatening to spill over you, frantically checking for any onlookers at the last possible second. You nearly jump out of your skin as your eyes finally land on Aegon, only to find him already staring at you, an amused smirk plastered across his face as he studies you. 
Aemond chooses that exact second to pinch at your pearl again and the small touch is your undoing. Your teeth bite down firmly on your tongue as your walls pulse rhythmically around your husband’s leaking cock, your eyes still locked on Aegon’s violet ones, now darkened with lust. 
Your muscles tense up as you peak helplessly, waves of pleasure lighting up every nerve ending within you. Somehow, you find it within yourself to remain quiet and still on Aemond’s lap as your eyes finally flick away from his older brother’s and you gaze, apparently absentmindedly, at some point on the wall on the opposite side of the room as your high subsides. 
Thankfully, Aemond takes pity on you and slips his hand away, his wet fingers resting gently in your bare thigh, still underneath your gown. 
You slowly come down from your high as the Small Council winds down, Aegon and Otto quickly discussing a few final points before the king formally adjourns the meeting. Tyland and Corlys practically bolt from their chairs, quickly bowing before they exit as they mumble between themselves, no doubt about the displeasure of your presence. 
Otto and Maester Orwyle take their leave soon after, each bowing politely. Aegon busies himself at the head of the table, leaning back in his chair as he lazily sips from his wine cup, the gleam in his eyes making you shiver. 
Across the room, Alicent and Larys whisper between themselves. Strangely, your mother-in-law blushes, shaking her head suddenly and mumbling a quiet, “Not here,” before glancing around the room.
Larys merely shrugs, turning to you as he shuffles from the room, “Do get better soon, princess.” He says with a feeble bow, although the look on his face makes you blush heavily. 
At that, Alicent turns to Aegon, “Would you care to come see the children with me?”
“Go on,” he dismisses her before nodding toward you and Aemond, “I wish to have a word with my brother.” He catches your eye with a quick wink. 
“Of course,” Alicent mutters, glancing curiously between the three of you, “I’ll ask the maids to bring some tea to your chambers this evening, princess. They make a wonderful lemon one that always seems to lift my spirits.” She says with a kind smile, coming around to place a comforting hand on your shoulder before she too heads to the door. 
“Thank you!” You breathily call after her, voice squeaking at the end as Aemond shuffles impatiently beneath you, his cock still prodding against your sensitive walls. 
Aegon chuckles darkly as soon as the doors close once more, standing from his chair with a wide smirk. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he taunts, eyes glinting as he looks between you and his brother, “I didn’t think either of you had that much gaul in you.” 
“What exactly are you tittering about now?” Aemond asks lowly behind you, his voice rough and choppy as his patience clearly wears thin. 
Sniggering, Aegon saunters around to stand beside you, violet eyes scanning over your laps still concealed under the table, “You’ve had your cock in her the whole time, have you not?” He teases, laughing harder still as Aemond merely hums in response, “Come brother, you should be proud of yourself,” he clasps a hand over your husband's shoulder, “She was nearly falling apart when she peaked.” He comments with a final wink as he ambles to the door, stopping to throw one last amused look over his shoulder, “You might want to do something about that bite mark on your shoulder.” He says casually before slamming the doors closed behind him. 
At his comment, you whirl around and your eyes grow wide as you spy a clear impression of your teeth marks in the leather of Aemond’s tunic, on his shoulder where you’d bitten down earlier. Your cheeks heat up at the thought of it being there throughout the entire meeting. 
You don’t have long to dwell on the thought though as your husband roughly pushes you from his lap until you’re bent over the table, cheek pressed to the cool stone surface. “Seven!” You sequel as he unceremoniously shoves his cock back inside you, his hips pumping wildly as his hands grasp at your waist harshly, no doubt leaving bruises. 
“Fucking finally,” he grunts, eyeing the way his cock disappears into your slick heat as he bunches your gown up over your ass, “‘M not gonna last.” He warns lowly, already panting with the speed of his thrusts. 
Your head spins once again as his cock moves within you, his pace nearly bruising. Your teeth sink into the skin of your forearm as you desperately try to keep quiet, another peak already welling up within you. 
Aemond growls and quickly threads the fingers of one hand through your hair, making you whine loudly as he pulls your head back until his chest is once again pressed against you, his other hand coming to rub against your abused pearl once more. 
“Aemond!” You moan, shaking your head in his grasp, one hand braced against the table as the other grabs at his forearm, feeling his muscles twitch as his fingers swirl against your center, “P-Please, I cannot keep myself quiet, I know I can’t—“ You start babbling. 
“Let them fucking hear,” he growls, eye squeezing shut as he feels his stones tightening up, “The whole keep can listen for all I fucking care, I won’t be stopping this time.” 
Your eyes roll back in your head at his words, never having heard him sound this possessed and overcome with pleasure before. After only a few more thrusts, you feel your walls twitch once more, a loud gasp rattling through your chest, “H-Husband, I’m—!”
“That’s it,” Aemond groans, redoubling his efforts against your pearl as he continues to rut into you at a nearly inhuman pace. “Peak, sweetling,” he commands, his voice low and raspy in your ear, “Peak while I breed your precious cunt.” 
His words nearly take your breath away and you whine loudly as another high washes over you, your walls milking your husband’s cock as they clench and pulse against it. 
Behind you, Aemond groans lowly, grunting as his cock twitches strongly inside you, his thick seed flooding into your heat as he finally, finally peaks, the pleasure of it making him dizzy as he leans against your back, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. 
The two of you are quiet for a moment, your tired pants the only sounds in the chambers. Finally, Aemond untangles his fingers from your hair, both of his hands coming to rest against the cool table as he finally pulls his cock from your center, soothing you with soft shushes when you whine, the emptiness in your core such a foreign feeling after being filled for so long. 
He sinks into his chair once more and pulls you with him, wrapping a protective arm around your waist as you rest your head on his shoulder. Once your breathing is steady, you pick your head up, a displeased groan tumbling from your throat as you see your bite mark more clearly up close, a finger coming up to trace over the intents in the black leather. 
“I’ll need to send this to the seamstress for repairs,” you whisper with an apologetic sigh, “I believe this is beyond my ability to fix.” 
Aemond chuckles beneath you, lilac eye gleaming with pride as he clasps a hand over yours as it still rests on his shoulder, “Don’t trouble yourself with it, my love.” 
“What?” You question, smiling despite the way you tilt your head in confusion, “Aemond, I cannot fix it myself and I’m afraid the mark will not simply go away—,” 
“You misunderstand me, sweetling,” he says, smiling as he looks down at you, “I intend to keep it as a mark of great pride. I shall wear it as a trophy for all to see.” He explains with a teasing laugh. 
You playfully smack a hand against his chest, which only makes him laugh harder, “You can’t be serious!” You admonish with a wide smile.
“Why? I simply wish to remember this day,” he chuckles, “The day I made my sweet wife peak in front of the Gods and everyone.” 
“Aemond!” You cannot help the surprised laugh that leaves you, “You’re as disgusting as your brother!”
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tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @demirunner @eponaartemisa @trshngyn
(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)
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greenbloods · 7 months ago
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honestly hilarious that the lannister siblings are all history freaks in different direction. cersei rolls her eyes that jaime doesn't know what the second blackfyre rebellion was about while he rattles off the tale of ser luthor pisseryon of daeron i's kingsguard, who served for all of seven moons before he died shitting himself en route to dorne. meanwhile tyrion's sitting in the corner reading maester leomore's neo-myrxist critique of archmaester hargreave's account of the Storming of the Dragonpit (The Warrior Himself: Examining the Dying of the Dragons in the Light of the Seven) and not paying attention to it one bit because he’s moping about how everyone in kings landing hates him, the imp, because he’s ugly and rich, and not because he’s a feudal overlord who is fundamentally detached from the immediate concerns of his starving subjects
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mulletzombie · 11 months ago
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I saw this yesterday but I had to sleep on it since I'm indecisive as fuck and love too many promarchs lol I've eventually settled on Horus (gotta smack his bald head) or Alpharious/Omegon cuz I don't think I've seen you really write for them and they sound like a clusterfuck of a time.
Now, totally not up to anything here... but if any of you were going to want a yandere Primarch fic, who would you like it to be the most?
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tehe.
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entitled-fangirl · 28 days ago
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Staying warm.
Jace Velaryon x Dornish wife!reader
SMUT
Summary: the reader is feeling homesick, the sunlight in Dragonstone doing nothing compared to the kind she had in Dorne. Jace notices her chill and yearns to warm her.
Warnings: p in v, fingering, light breast play, overstimulation
A/n: my homegirl @princessvelaryon helped me come up with the dragon part!! You should follow her, she's fantastic🤭
Masterlist
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....................................
Jace's heart dropped when he walked into their shared chambers to see his wife gone. 
She was adventurous, that much was true. But usually when leaving like this, he would be the first to know. 
It was quite unusual indeed. 
The worry was both relieved and heightened at the sight of her riding boots. If she wasn't out riding…?
He ran from their chambers and down the corridor, almost tripping down the multitude of stairs as he did so. Jace was not a runner per se, but he made quick work of getting down to his mother's solar. No doubt would she know of something.
He threw open the door, not waiting for the guards nor being polite. 
Rhaenyra gasped, then relaxed. "Gods, Jace."
"Have you seen my wife?" He urgently panted.
The Queen raised a brow at the sight of her boy almost sweating. 
"She told me just this morning that she'd be there until I fetch her for the afternoon. And she's gone."
Rhaenyra tilted her head with an almost smirk. "Have you looked for her beyond your room?"
"I-" Jace paused. "No."
His mother held back a playful scoff. "Go look around. I'm sure you'll find her."
"You're not as worried as you should be," he pointed out.
"No. No, I'm not."
Jace kept his disdain inside as he turned to look across Dragonstone.
After scanning all of her favorite spots in Dragonstone, Jace was beginning to grow frantic. He resorted to ease his panic by stepping out onto a balcony to catch fresh air. 
Ah. There she was.
He saw his precious wife out in the grass outside of the walls. She laid in the sun with her eyes closed, and he swore she was glowing. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" He yelled out.
He saw her eyes snap open and her body sits up to look over her shoulder at the sound. "WHAT?"
"WHAT ARE Y-" He stopped himself with a laugh and ran back inside to join her. 
She waited patiently for him to walk through the door, but to her surprise, he was running. He ran all the way to her, practically tripping onto the ground next to her. "My sweet wife," he hummed and kissed her deeply. "I was worried."
"Worried?" She pecked at his lips again. "Why?"
He cupped her face with an intense look of admiration, as if memorizing her face. "You weren't in our room when you said you'd be."
"I-" Her eyes widened. "Is it that time already? I've been out here longer than I thought."
He chuckled openly at that. "Very much so." His thumb brushed her cheekbone. "What warranted such a trip outdoors?"
She sighed and turned her head to kiss his palm. "I've been getting less and less sun on the balcony to our chambers. Today, I looked out and… the sun looked so soothing out here in the open. I'm sorry for startling you. I only planned to be here for a few minutes."
"The sun is dangerous in large amounts, my love. Surely we should take you indoors."
She shook her head and kissed his palm again. "In Dorne, I practically lived in the sun."
While to her it was a happy proclamation, it made Jace's heart twist with guilt. "I see." He moved his hand down to pinch her chin. "Do you grow cold here?"
Her smile faltered a bit. She shook her head insistently.
"Love," Jace persisted. He titled his head down a bit and his stare intensified. 
"Maybe a bit," she quietly remarked.
"A bit?" He asked. "I'd say more than a bit. You're out here basking in the sun like a dragon." He chuckled at the thought. "Perhaps you're more dragon than I."
She felt a laugh rise from her throat and she playfully pushed him back, resulting in him resting in the grass.
He sat up and grabbed her hips then laid back down with her next to him. She laid her head on his chest. 
Jace's eyes had to squint to look up at the sky, but she was entirely content. 
"Nice, isn't it?" She hummed.
It wasn't his favorite. "Yes. Yes, it's wonderful," he agreed. "Tell me though how I can help you in the future. More cloaks? The greatest furs and blankets? Why does my best girl wish for?"
She hummed out a no. "Don't do anything on my behalf. I'll be fine."
His hand on her hip squeezed her. "I'll do what I wish. I'm the future king, and if my queen wishes for even the most outlandish thing, I'll grant it to her."
She squirmed, flipping herself onto her stomach to look at him. "What if I wish for nothing?"
"That is the goal, isn't it? To have my wife wish for nothing. But we must work to get to that point, hm? Tell me what you want. What will ease your mind, my love?"
She considers his question. She leans on one elbow to use her free hand to play with his doublet. "When I think of something, you'll be the first to know."
He vowed then and there to figure it out anyway.
Jace had stayed true to his vow, making excuses to take her to various places and do various activities to keep her warm.
"I understand your excitement, Jace, but I truly shouldn't-"
"-Nonsense. Vermax has been lonely as of late. You know how much he adores you."
That part was true. Jace sometimes believed that Vermax truly did like the girl more than him.
They entered the dragon pit and she basked in the warmth that radiated through the caves from the dragon fire. Jace tugged on her hand, "C'mon. He'll be waiting."
The dragon neared them with the help of the handlers. Jace nodded in appreciation and approached the large beast like greeting a friend. 
The dragon nuzzled into his hand and gave a purr. 
Y/n stayed behind Jace in waiting for the dragon to notice her presence, and of course, it did. 
Vermax snapped playfully at her and she ignored the dragon's hot breath moving across her skin.
"I think he's ready to stretch his wings for a bit. Think you can handle that?" He grinned and held his hand out to her. 
Once her hand was firmly grasped in his, Jace pulled her to Vermax's side, helping hoist her up onto the dragon's back. She grabbed onto the saddle with an iron grip. 
Jace climbed on quickly and settled behind her. He brought his hands around her hips, feeling a shiver move up her body. "Settled, then?" He purred into her ear.
"Jace," she whispered. She could feel his breath against the back of her neck. The warmth from his body was intoxicating. She blamed it on his dragon-blood.
He let out a breathy chuckle. "I'll take that as a yes."
The dragon was led out of the pit and into the sunlight. It let out a content growl. 
Jace grabbed the reigns.
"Sōvēs!" (Fly)
The dragon's wings stretched out and began to push air down, lifting its legs off the ground. 
She shrieked and held the saddle so tightly her knuckles turned white. She could feel Jace's chest pulse with a laugh. 
Once Vermax evened out in the sky, she relaxed a bit. Her hands still held on but her heart was slightly eased. 
Jace's nose nuzzled at her neck.
"Jace," she tutted. 
He continued his movements with a cheeky grin. "Thought you liked my touch."
"I-I do, but…" She watched one of his hands let go of the reigns and began to run up her thigh. 
"But?" He teased.
She took in a deep breath. "Is this safe?"
He kissed her neck. "Most likely. Hold this."
She mindlessly takes what he asks then realized she was holding the reins in her hands. Vermax seemed to either not notice, or just not care.
Both of her husband's hands were now on her thighs. "This is a bad idea, Jace."
"Shhh. Don't let negative thoughts persuade you." He kissed and nipped at her neck. "Do you like this?"
She leaned against his chest and slowly nodded. 
"Now," Jace tutted. "I'll keep you warm, you lovely girl."
Her eyes closed in comfort and let out a satisfied groan.
"Easy, love. You're steering Vermax."
Her eyes shot open to keep watch.
Jace's hands wandered up her legs and up her stomach, then moved back down. The feeling of his hands on her always caused her to run hot, but this was something else entirely.
His hands never moved further than that, just wandering back and forth over her body. He grinned cheekily each time she shivered or took a sharp breath. 
"Enjoying yourself?"
She nodded absentmindedly. 
"Good." He kissed at her neck again.
A few days passed until Jace saw another opportunity to warm her again. 
She sat at the window with a book, halfway keeping Jace company as he slaved over his work.
The second goosebumps erupted on her skin, Jace practically threw his work to the side. 
He stepped to her and kissed her deeply. 
She let out a surprised yelp that Jace all but swallowed down. 
When he pulled away, she hummed. "What was that for?"
He admired the flush that came to her cheeks. "Just caring for you is all."
She laughed and kissed at his cheek. "I want you to do it again."
"Easily done."
He cupped her cheeks and kissed her again, groaning when she began to tug at his doublet. Her fingers pulled at the buttons with earnest.
Jace smiled against her lips and picked her up, walking her to the bed and setting her on to it gently without breaking the kiss. 
Her tongue licked at his bottom lip, and his grin only grew. 
Her hands pulled managed to pull his doublet off and was now pulling his tunic up, her fingers brushing over his stomach. It made Jace gasp. 
He cupped the back of her neck to bring her closer to him, as if that was possible, and let her explore his mouth. 
A low growl sounded from his throat. The feeling of her was all-consuming, warm and soft. 
He pulled away to let her tug his tunic over his head, but as soon as he was free, he buried his face in the crook of her neck. He sucked at the skin with a fervor that she was sure would leave marks. 
"You're an awfully convincing man," she giggled. 
He kissed her cheek. "I only aim to please. And I plan to do it well."
She pulled on his hair to tilt his head up at her, and she kissed him again. 
Now his hands began to undress her. He started slowly, but as the kiss progressed, he was getting desperate. Once he got to her shift, he gripped the neckline and tore it all the way down. Any complaint she made was lost in translation against his lips. 
He pulled away to sit up and tug his pants off and join her in the nude. 
She admired the sight of his pretty skin, trailing her eyes down from his chest to enjoy any sliver of skin he presented to her. He was perfect. 
He grinned at the sight of her delight. "So do I?"
She forced her eyes back up to his face. "Do you what?"
His hand moved down to her hip bone, rubbing it soothingly back and forth. His eyes made a sweeping pattern over her entire body. "Please you?"
Her breath hitched. He was consuming her every thought, and she found that she couldn't think of any words to say. 
His hands touched her hips and then moved up her body achingly slow before they rested on her cheeks. She shivered as he did so, the feeling tickling and yet starting a fire in her. "Cold?"
She only whined. 
"Don't worry, love." He pecked her lips. "I plan to warm you the rest of the day and into the morrow."
He brushed some of her hair back from her forehead as his other hand wandered lower to circle her clit lightly. 
She whined again, her hips jerking away out of instinct. 
"Feel the heat rising in your body?" He whispered into her ear. "The warmth that radiates when you get what you want."
"J-Jace-"
His eyes studied her earnestly. "Trust me?"
Breath escaped her. "Yes."
The hand on her clit began to move faster, the heat of her body contrasting with the cold metal of the ring on his finger. His other hand journeyed to her breast, brushing over it with his thumb and enjoying her small noises of content. 
He continued to do so, getting braver with each sweeping pass until he finally circled the nipple and watched her suck in a breath. 
"I- I'm-"
"I know," he tutted lightly.
One hand tugged at his hair, the other moved down his bicep and squeezed, bordering pain for Jace. 
Her backed arched slightly off of the sheets with a moan before slumping back down and panting.
Jace stopped when he noticed she was becoming overstimulated. "Feel good? Feel warm?"
She hummed. 
Jace chuckled. "I don't know if that's good enough for me, beautiful."
His fingers moved down to her slit and slowly pushed a finger in. She soaked him in easily. He cursed under his breath and added a second one with a slight stretch. He eased up when she whined again. His two fingers sunk into her and he began to pull them out, only to repeat the process. It was a slow and steady thrust, getting her properly prepared. 
Her eyes closed in bliss. He let out a breathy chuckle and took her hand with his, making her fingers brush over the other hand that was currently busying itself within her. 
The feeling felt right, and yet, downright sinful. Jace was like an angel that was cursed to the earth for being too perfect. 
There was never fear with him. He was steadfast in his loyalty. It made things like this easy. 
"I need more," she panted. "I want more of you."
"More?" He chuckled.
"Anything you give me, I'll take, Jace. Just pl-" She whined when he spread his fingers. 
"I'll give you all of me, my girl. Just be patient."
Jace pulled his fingers out, admiring the glaze that covered them and using it to ready his cock. He shifted comfortably onto her, alining himself. "You make my blood run quite hot, you know that?"
She giggled and brushed his curls away from his cheek. "And you with mine."
He pushed his hips forward, his jaw dropping in a hearty groan as he watched her body take him. 
Jace's words rang true, their bodies both overstimulated and dripping with sweat by the morning.
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beetlejuicyy · 5 months ago
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criston cole is such a female-experience coded character and it is exactly why he is hated so much hear me out
his whole character is built around the idea that rhaenyra seduced him, had taken his dignity and made him feel like her whore. his vow and his duty are close enough to the idea of women's purity and value. you were sullied, you have to marry the man that devalued you, otherwise you are spoiled and unworthy.
on top of that, his identity as a knight, as kingsguard means he is submissive. he is not seen having a lot of opinions or plans to how things are done, the big guys in the council decide and he has to obey to their orders.
on top of that, when he does act at last, it's portrayed in the form of scheming, behind the backs of people, and it's mostly attributed to his sentimental nature, to his inability to think straight, be logical because of his personal feelings. that's how women have been portrayed for centuries.
another thing that makes his character harder to grasp is the choice to have the same actor play the pre-timeskip and past-timeskip criston. 20 years have passed and yet people see him as the same person who refused to be rhaenyra's whore but now he is hypocritical because he is alicent's whore. 20 years have passed and, even if you can't see it on his face, he's bound to have changed too.
in his relationship with alicent he doesn't talk as much. he is obedient, she's the one in charge. she gets to say when and how things happen, he is just at her service.
his entire character is build up to revolve around rhenyra, like women's lives are supposed to revolve around men. if he refuses to acknowledge his status in his youth he is no longer allowed to later (after 20 years mind you) find some sort of comfort in another master. it's like saying "if you say you hate the system why take part in it"?
his pent up rage and hatred is evil, because what happened to him was behind closed doors where no one saw or heard of it. because if they knew of it he would lose everything, exactly the way women have often refrained from talking about their condition in fear of being villainized themselves. in the meantime, the one in power will keep their dignity and spotless reputation like rhaenyra is not even held accountable for having bastards pushed forward as heirs, not to mention the fling she had with criston.
this rant is in no way trying to portray criston cole as a saint or a good guy or trying to justify his behaviour. this is actually the problem with hotd, the effort to draw a line between the good guys and bad guys. have it be either balck or white. it's not, it can't be. you either have complex, morally grey characters with flaws and mistakes or you go watch marvel or something. even there villains are more humanized than in this petty effort of righteousness.
LE: thank you everyone who mentioned the aspect of criston being a man of colour from dorne and the power dynamic between a royal and a lower born who fought his way into the world! this rant was written in a rush and while i couldn't express the latter as eloquently as most of you in the tags/comments, i completely overlooked the former. i love looking through everyone's tags and comments and seeing your takes. as @jazzyclarinet pointed out in the comments, seeing criston's character in this light does not erase or diminish the injustice other women in the story experience.
on another note, i feel like part of the blame is on the way hbo marketed the season with the pressure to pick a side. however, i think what we've been lacking as a society in the post covid years is actual unbiased analysis of art. swallowing up content without any question and making said content a personality trait is harmful. as i said, i don't like criston as a character, but i can make these points about him simply because i watch the show critically and i don't blindly defend a character while trashing another.
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 4 months ago
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For the jace and baela scene, reader could be a Tyrell or dornish? I saw that you liked them. I want her to be light and sweet and compassionate, but able to hold jace’s character.
When I saw this scene in the leaks, I had to re-write it...and add the cuteness the show did not
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Jacaerys had not been present when Rhaenyra's great plan turned into a carnage. His hatred for the dragonseeds was so strong you fear he would have taken a small pleasure watching them burn. 
A shiver ran down your back at the images. 
You thought it was cruel of the Queen to block the doors when Vermithor blazed fire on the dragonseeds who tried to get inside. But you understood Rhaenyra’s decision. There were other dragons on the island. Wild ones. These people all had a drop of Valyrian blood in them. They could claim one of the wild dragons...and turn on her — as Jacaerys feared. 
By eliminating them, it lessened the chances of someone claiming a wild dragon and using it against her.
After a bearded man named Hugh finally claimed Vermithor, you went looking for your betrothed. He was not outside with Vermax, nor in his chambers. 
Noticing the frown on your brows and your pacing in the corridors, a guard informed you that he saw the prince heading to the library hours ago. You thanked him, and found Jacaerys sitting at a table with a hoard of books around him. He must have come here when he saw the dragonseeds arriving on Dragonstone. 
From your angle, you could see a pout on his lips as he rested his head on his fist. His back was to you, so he didn’t see you come in. 
‘’It does not befit a prince to pout.’’ Your tone was teasing and light, contrasting to his sulking.
‘’I’m not pouting,’’ Jacaerys denied, not moving. 
You took the stack of books from the chair next to his and set it on the table so you could sit on the chair. ‘’What would you call it, then?’’ You raised a brow and poked his pushed out lips.
It usually put his pouting to an end, but his face stayed icy. ‘’I’m reading,’’ he said, turning the page of the book before him. 
‘’While your mother waits?’’ 
He ignored your question, still upset and bitter about the bastard dragonseeds.
A part of you understood Rhaenyra's desire for wanting riders for the two unclaimed dragons. She never thought it would be possible, but Adam of Hull proved to her that the Valyrian blood in bastards was strong enough to claim Seasmoke. Having more dragons on her side will benefit her against the Greens and Vhagar.
But another was aching for Jacaerys. He was made fun of all his childhood for his non-Valyrian features, and these bastards were praised for succeeding in claiming a dragon. 
‘’You’re angry,’’ you stated, rubbing his back in an attempt to sooth him. 
You’ve been comforting him a lot lately, but nothing you knew seemed to work today. 
Jacaerys finally turned to look at you, his eyes hard from his anger. ‘’Aren’t you?’’ 
You released a breath. ‘’I don’t see what good it would do.’’
‘’They are insults to us. To what makes us Targaryen. If any common lout can ride a dragon, then—’’ 
‘’That does not make you common!’’ 
In the year and half you had known Jacaerys, it was striking to you that he had nothing of a common-born. He was raised as royalty, and educated like a prince — an heir. He was well-behaved, silver tongued, and the son of Queen Rhaenyra. He carried her royal blood. 
He glanced at you again, then turned away to stare at the table. ‘’You know what I am…’’ 
‘’I don’t care,’’ you said truly. 
In Dorne, bastards were not looked down upon the way they are in the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. But they did not inherit from their parents the same as their legitimate children. They were acknowledged, cared after, but never allowed to claim a crown or title that had not been given to them. 
‘’You are the crown prince,’’ you continued, ‘’the son of the rightful Queen, and here you are sulking because you believe that if not for the dragon, or the trappings of your station, that you are nothing.’’ You took Jacaerys’ hand in yours, chuckling lightly. ‘’Do you believe you are the first noble heir who was not sired by his noble father? Such is the way of the world, Jace, and in resenting it, you only diminish yourself.’’
Jacaerys leaned his head back on the chair, still pouting. ‘’Easy enough to say. I’ve heard the whispers the whole of my life.’’ You could hear the deep rooted trauma and scars in his voice. 
‘’Then prove to them that you are worthy. Get up and take your place by your mother’s side. You and she had your differences lately, but she’ll never replace you by one of them. No one can replace a mother's first son.’’ 
He was silent for a few moments, staring at the ceiling of the dark library, and took in your words. No one can replace a mother's first son. She had him when she herself was a child. There was no one she loved more than him. 
Jacaerys turned to face you, his eyes softening. Your reassurances made him see reason. He was still upset, but he found comfort in your words. 
He gripped your hand, and pulled you close. Closeness was his way of finding comfort. When you were settled upon his lap, his hands went to your hips, holding you against him. 
Even then, you noticed he was still pouting. You thought the gesture was utterly cute, but you wouldn’t tell him that. 
You gently tilted his head to look at you and leaned down to kiss him. ‘’No more pouting.’’
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