#the other kings/queens on book were:

[knownsome]

Thank youuu!

Caius's first show that he fully produced/put on/organized was "Caius Lennox Presents: Clover Clarke's Christmas Eve Eve Extravaganza!" and was 100% to impress the cool Daughter of Cacophony that was in town. Prior to that he was mostly content just being ~booked and blessed~

Tagging @spookebee @casuallycryptidcider @arc-tu-rus @cynical-tuba and anyone else that wants in!

𝐎𝐂 𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 : share one fact about your vtm oc and tag people ! tag as many as you want , keeping the thread going . tagging someone more than one time is okay ! ( especially if it’s me haha )

Tevy’s favorite ballet playe are Giselle, La Dame Aux Camélias (Lady of the Camellias, and Camelot! (She’s always the center stage in all of them trust)

tagging: @eternalera @toreadorcaretaker @bluelolblue @born-to-eat-rats @knownsome @zaolat @dispotatorulzz @findingtarshish @ofmalkavians @garygoldenbignaturals @mortifying-macaroni @porcelainseashore and YOU who SEES THIS yes you with the vtm oc i see you…. you cannot hide from me

[iamchickenhearmesquawk]

Just saw a screen rant article saying the horse and his boy should be skipped in Netflix’s adaptation of Narnia and I’d hear them out if it was about the orientalism because that would make the book tricky to adapt for modern audiences but not impossible (just look at fics or even headcanons that dive into aravis lore or just expand on calormen culture in general to be more 3 dimensional there’s some incredible fan writers out there)

The reason was that it’s “the weakest book in the series” 🤠

Like just, as a story. 🧍‍♀️

I will not stand for aravis erasure

[nikosdaydreams]

hmm

hot take but the fandom has no excuse to be ableist to the Greens just because they did bad things. You forget that a) disabled people can 100% do bad things, and b) people doing bad things is NOT an excuse to make fun of things that some people actually live with.

Calling Helaena and her children slurs is obviously ableist. Making fun of Aegon being burned and subsequently disabled is ableist. Calling Aemond "one-eyed freak" "pirate" "Cyclops" and the like is ableist.

Being on Team Green is not an excuse. Usurping a fake throne is not an excuse. Killing another fictional character is not an excuse.

Just because they are fictional does not mean it is an open gate for you to make fun of disabled people. Your words portray how you feel about real disabled people.

[starrynightsxo]

jude when cardan said he recognised her the moment she entered the brugh

[wonder-worker]

Margaret of Anjou’s visit to Coventry [in 1456], which was part of her dower and that of her son, Edward of Lancaster, was much more elaborate. It essentially reasserted Lancastrian power. The presence of Henry and the infant Edward was recognised in the pageantry. The ceremonial route between the Bablake gate and the commercial centre was short, skirting the area controlled by the cathedral priory, but it made up for its brevity with no fewer than fourteen pageants. Since Coventry had an established cycle of mystery plays, there were presumably enough local resources and experience to mount an impressive display; but one John Wetherby was summoned from Leicester to compose verses and stage the scenes. As at Margaret’s coronation the iconography was elaborate, though it built upon earlier developments.

Starting at Bablake gate, next to the Trinity Guild church of St. Michael, Bablake, the party was welcomed with a Tree of Jesse, set up on the gate itself, with the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah explaining the symbolism. Outside St. Michael’s church the party was greeted by Edward the Confessor and St. John the Evangelist; and proceeding to Smithford Street, they found on the conduit the four Cardinal Virtues—Righteousness (Justice?), Prudence, Temperance, and Fortitude. In Cross Cheaping wine flowed freely, as in London, and angels stood on the cross, censing Margaret as she passed. Beyond the cross was pitched a series of pageants, each displaying one of the Nine Worthies, who offered to serve Margaret. Finally, the queen was shown a pageant of her patron saint, Margaret, slaying the dragon [which 'turned out to be strictly an intercessor on the queen's behalf', as Helen Maurer points out].

The meanings here are complex and have been variously interpreted. An initial reading of the programme found a message of messianic kingship: the Jesse tree equating royal genealogy with that of Christ had been used at the welcome for Henry VI on his return from Paris in 1432. A more recent, feminist view is that the symbolism is essentially Marian, and to be associated with Margaret both as queen and mother of the heir rather than Henry himself. The theme is shared sovereignty, with Margaret equal to her husband and son. Ideal kingship was symbolised by the presence of Edward the Confessor, but Margaret was the person to whom the speeches were specifically addressed and she, not Henry, was seen as the saviour of the house of Lancaster. This reading tips the balance too far the other way: the tableau of Edward the Confessor and St. John was a direct reference to the legend of the Ring and the Pilgrim, one of Henry III’s favourite stories, which was illustrated in Westminster Abbey, several of his houses, and in manuscript. It symbolised royal largesse, and its message at Coventry would certainly have encompassed the reigning king. Again, the presence of allegorical figures, first used for Henry, seems to acknowledge his presence. Yet, while the message of the Coventry pageants was directed at contemporary events it emphasised Margaret’s motherhood and duties as queen; and it was expressed as a traditional spiritual journey from the Old Testament, via the incarnation represented by the cross, to the final triumph over evil, with the help of the Virgin, allegory, and the Worthies. The only true thematic innovation was the commentary by the prophets.

[...] The messages of the pageants firmly reminded the royal women of their place as mothers and mediators, honoured but subordinate. Yet, if passive, these young women were not without significance. It is clear from the pageantry of 1392 and 1426 in London and 1456 in Coventry that when a crisis needed to be resolved, the queen (or regent’s wife) was accorded extra recognition. Her duty as mediator—or the good aspect of a misdirected man—suddenly became more than a pious wish. At Coventry, Margaret of Anjou was even presented as the rock upon which the monarchy rested. [However,] a crisis had to be sensed in order to provoke such emphasis [...]."

-Nicola Coldstream, "Roles of Women in Late Medieval Civic Pageantry", Reassessing the Roles of Women as 'Makers' of Medieval Art and Culture

[springs-hurts]

One of the best thing about game of thrones, for me, was that I started enjoying fantasies again! I watched a show and I loved it and then I started disliking the protagonist and fantasy elements.

I started hating every prophesied protag and villains. All special powers and most of all, Love.

But Gods game of thrones revived my love for fantasies, can't thank Martin enough for that man!

[whimsofavim]

When you’re sick but incapable of rest so you’re starting on your third book in two days after working on your fic for a while, while watching a movie you’ve seen 500 times over… 💗

[myladysapphire]

Solace

As the daughter of Alicent Hightower you had been fed stories of your older sister and her children, so when you are bethrothed to Jacaerys you arent too sure as to what to expect, and go into your courtship expecting the worse, only to find out you couldn't have been more wrong.

word count: 5,908

CW: MDI 18+, smut, fluff. p in v, fingering, loss of virginity, oral (f reciving), incest not beta read!

Jacaerys Veleryon x Fem!reader

a/n - no war au

Masterlist

She had been betrothed to Prince Jacearys since they were both children, before most noble children even knew the expectation of one day getting married off and yet since the day of said betrothal, they had not spent a single moment together. Nor had you exchanged a single letter nor a single thought of the other, at least she had not. 

In all honesty she had simply lived as if he and their impending marriage did not exist, so when he returned for his brother's hearing and for their courtship to officially begin, they were at a complete loss of where to begin, they knew of no common interests, and there family’s had been pitted against each other their entire lives.  Seeing as they had never been close in their youth, nor present much time together, seeing as she had kept to herself or Heleana, and Jacearys having spent most of his time with his brother and hers.

She had always preferred solitude, preferred to keep to her books, painting, and her beloved dragon Gaelithox. Gaelithox perhaps the only being she would spend day after day with willingly. 

she had hoped he would be similar. Though from what she could remember, he always seemed to find himself surrounded by others, not once does she remember seeing him alone. Perhaps if she had then she would have gotten to know him. But for her crowds were her worst fear, talking to more than one person or anyone was really. But Jacearys was always the centre of attention, with his good looks and charisma, it seemed he never begged for attention, it just always simply found him. She hoped marrying him would not force her to become the same.

How they expected her to one day be queen confused her. With Jacearys as the future king she would have all these responsibilities and have to do everything she hated. Her mother had made sure to tell her that, to start to show her what would be expected of her.

For all she knew it was a scare tactic from her mother, y/n knew her mother hated them, she would call them bastards and would whisper in her ear more and more rumours about her eldest sister and her eldest son. 

So, when he arrived all she could do was watch him. Scared to start a conversation, and too nervous to make any moves towards him. So she stood from the sidelines as he found himself surrounded by the keeps inhabitants. 

As she watched him at dinner, following lucerys victory of being declared the future lord of the tides, she very much doubted he would like solitude as much as she did. The few moments where he found himself not in conversation, he almost seemed nervous. She feared he would never understand her fear of crowds, or her hate for balls and feasts. Nor understand what her mother referred to as her quirks. He was loud and charismatic, all traits she lacked. He was drawn to crowds and seemed to thrive at the events she hated. But he seemed to suffer in the moments she loved the moments alone, the quiet moments.

She had been forced to sit away from her usual seat and sit nearer to the centre, a place where all eyes were on her. She sat opposite her eldest sister, Rhaenyra, with Jacearys on one side, and Aegon on the other. 

Aegon had been making crude jokes all evening, whispering and taunting her. Though she had become extremely talented at ignoring him, it was starting to bug her, and all she wished was to retire to bed. 

Luckily, he seemed to be the only one interested in her, until Rhaenyra decided to start a conversation with her. She had never really known her eldest sister, having always been stopped by her mother. She remembered when her and Rhaenyra would have bi-weekly garden tea, until her mother found out and banned her from even going near Rhaenrya chambers.

Over the years her mother had told her only the worst about Rhaenyra, and forced her own hatred or mayhap envy of her onto y/n. And yet she only ever seemed to be kind to her when they did interact. 

“Sister?” y/n heard her call out.

“Yes princess?” she responded, stuttering from being addressed. 

“Are you quite alright, you look quite pale?” her face was concerned, as did Jaceaerys when he turned from his seat to face ger at his mother’s words.

“i-“ you looked down starting to pull at the skin on your fingers, “i do not find i fit in well in such gatherings, it's just stress” she spoke, voice shaking as y/n looked down and bringing her fingers to her mouth biting the skin around them.

“Would you like me to escort you back to your chambers?” She heard Jacearys ask in concern. 

At this her mother’s attention was captured, as she snapped her head around, ending her conversation with her grandsire, in doing so capturing the whole tables attention “what’s wrong dearests?”

“i- i would like to retire mother?” y/n almost begged, desperate for the offered reprieve.

“of course Aem-“her mother began, before being interrupted, clearly offering Aemond to escort her to her chambers. 

“I shall escort her,” Jacearys interrupted, standing from his seat and offering his hand that

she took it nervously.  These were the most words either had spoken for each other, at least that she could remember. 

Walking down the halls of the keep, she found herself in a comfortable silence.  Though Jacearys seemed to find it rather uncomfortable as he began to ramble on about gods knows what.

“so i told Luke -“

She hummed, responding to a question she probably heard minutes ago, she hated to admit it but she was seriously struggling to follow whatever he was talking about. The topic of which changed near every second. 

He stopped walking suddenly, causing her to be pulled back as their arms were still interlinked. He seemed to finally realise he was talking nonsense and had lost her completely “I’m sorry, I’ve been rambling on and you can’t even follow a word of what i was saying i-“ 

“oh no i- i, well yes, but I believe you are just nervous… as am il” y/n spoke softly. 

He nodded, “your right, i- i have been trying to think of anything i know about you, any shared memories and yet i can not find a single thing” he shook his head, seemingly ashamed.

“oh well… we never really talked until today, i always much preferred my own company to that of others”

“oh i- really?” he sounded confused as if spending time by himself was beyond him.

“i always found i was always more myself when with others, in fact i find myself nervous when I am alone '' he spoke, slowly making sure not to ramble on once more.

“I suppose I have never found such solace with another person as to feel myself with another person” you looked down, she too seemed so polar to one another and feared her solitude would always be interrupted once she married him. 

“I understand that, Luke is the same way” he looked at her then, “i hope that i can be the person you find solace in, one day..” he took her hands, stoking them softly, it was always a hard thing for her, touch. Always avoiding it, and only taking hugs to shaking someone’s hand when she knew social construct dictated she should. And yet with him it was fine it seemed nice almost, something she could get used to, even find solace in.

“I would like that”  she nodded, and he gave her a sweet smile, relief almost washing over his face. He took her arm once more and led her back to her chambers, this time instead of rambling, he simply asked her questions about herself, and for once she happily answered them.

The next day she was awoken to the sound of rapped knocks on her door. Though she normally slept in, it was still rather early for such a thing. Opening the door she saw Jacaerys standing with a bouquet of flowers, more specifically peonies, a flower that you would often find embroidered on several of her dresses. 

“Prince-“

”Jace” he interrupted “ please call me Jace, we are to be a married soon it is only right” 

“Jace” she said slowly, getting used to the informality she lacked with even her own family , “what are you doing here so early?” 

“Early?” he laughed, as if if the idea that nine in the morning could ever be considered early,  “i suppose it could be”

”Why are you here?” She asked, almost irritated.

“Sorry,” he spoke, reaching his arm out to present her with the peonies'' i simply came to ask if we may break our fast, with the hope you had yet to eat and yet it seems i woke you,” he shook his head “i apologise, i am used to waking up early for training. I should have thought you may have preferred to sleep in” he looked down nervously.

Sniffing the flowers, she moved into her room, leaving the door agar as an invitation for Jace to come in. ”I would like that” she nodded, “Though this is still rather early for me, so i shall need to call my maids to help me dress and prepare our breakfast”

”early?” He again asked, “what time do you normally wake?”

”Mostly before noon, but not before 10,” you looked up with a small smile, “i find i can sleep the days away if allowed, it is one of the few things i can never seem to get enough off”

He laughed, the nerves leaving him slightly. “I find i am always awake by eight, at the latest, sadly i do not possess the same skill to sleep in, a skill i am much jealous of.” He smiled, “ i shall have the guards fetch your maids and order breakfast, and perhaps tomorrow we may share lunch instead” 

“I would like that,” she nodded.

Their fast was spent with the exchange of shy smiles and timid questions asked, as time went on  they grew more comfortable and found their rhythm, and she found the tiredness she felt from talking to others never came. 

The next moon was perfect, each day she would wake, dress, then Jace would meet her and she broke her fast and he took his second meal. Then they would walk the gardens. After a few days, she confessed how typically she would ride Gaelithox the second she awoke, and soon they found they were going for dragon rides every morning. Vermax and Gaelithox enjoying each other's company. Every second was filled with chatter, and those few that were not, neither felt any awkwardness, just contentment, solace.

They seemed to spend almost every second of every day with each other and yet she not once found it tiring, or wished for a reprieve, she simply wished for more.

There were even days where she wished for no talking and Jace was more than happy to spend the whole day in silence, simply enjoying each other's company, as they went about their own tasks.

She felt as if she was learning everything there was to know about him, through his stories she felt as if she knew his brothers, his family, like she had grown up with them , and not just watching them. She learnt his quirks and he learnt hers. And every day they seemed to learn something new. 

But today was the first day she would spend without him since his arrival, with her father , the king, asking for Jace to accompany the small council meetings from now on. 

So she had planned to spend the day alone, resuming her old daily routine even on the days where Jace was not in her company. 

That was until her mother decided to skip the small council meeting and spend the day with her.

”Do not ever trust them, dearest” her mother tutted, brushing through her hair. “They only wish for you and he to grow close so when the time comes you are on their side-“

She had tried to tune her out, but the instant comments answered messing with her head. She felt as if she was falling in love with Jace and yet they way her mother spoke of him, it was as if he was worse than Aegon, a fact she knew was not true.

“mother!” she finally  snapped , shaking her head she pulled away from her mother, “i do not care! Jace shall be my husband and as you have reminded me since the day I first bleed, that my duty is to my husband and his family before my own.” she then whispered to herself “a fact you do not follow yourself” continuing she said “ so why now when it is the son of the woman you despise, am I to do the opposite?” It was so out of character for her and yet years and years of hearing the words bastard and betrayal and whispers of war, she was finished. 

She fully pulled away from her mother and stood up, straightening her dress, “this past moon i have felt more seen and known by Jace than anyone my whole life. My whole life I have detested company, and chatter, and have at any and all attempts avoided events. and now i find the one person i do not detest, and would falsely attend any event he wishes me to, someone i enjoy spending time with, my future husband! You wish to ruin it for me! Do you not want me to be happy?” She nearly yelled, her face turning from the sweet, shy and docile face it had always been had turned angry “you clearly do not wish for Heleana to have happiness, as clear with her marriage to Aegon at three and ten!” She was steaming, years of biting her younger so as to not gain attention, or do more talking that’s necessary, bitterness flowed through her.

”dearest i-“ her mother started, moving towards and reaching for her to pull her in a hug, only to be met by an instant rejection.

”I simply wish for whatever war you are making up in your head to end, so you can finally allow me the happiness I deserve!” And with that she walked about, only to be met with Jace and Rhaenyra's face as she walked out. 

Jace chased after her, leaving his mother left to deal with Alicent.

”y/n” he called out, “y/n stop!”

“No, I can't,” she said as she continued down the halls, though she did slow down, allowing Jace a chance to catch up with her. “if i stop walking I’ll march right back in there and apologies!” she proclaimed.

“I'm sure you won't, you did the right thing '' Jace spoke, still trying to catch up with her.

“i have bite my tongue my whole life, never expressing my thoughts or opinions, and today i did!” she spoke, as she realised she was walking towards Jace’s chambers. She didn’t even think of where she was going, having stormed out of her own rooms, it seemed that in this past month his room had become a comfort to her.

Finally catching up in time to open the door to his rooms. “y/n you don’t have to explain, you didn’t do anything, you just spoke up for yourself and…for me” y/n swear she saw him blush.

“i know it was hard for you, that talking and expressing yourself is something your struggle with…but you stood up for yourself it’s nothing you have to feel bad about it’s something you should be proud of” he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips “and in all honestly  i was rather impressed”

“you where?” she blushed, stepping one closer. 

he nodded, “ you know me and my mother were coming to your chambers to discuss the wedding” he said wrapping his arm around her waist. a movement and touch she had now grown to love. “ We are to be married in a fortnight” his face moved closer to her.

“We are?” she questioned, her breathing getting heavier. 

he nodded, there faces so close they were sharing their breaths “yes, soon you will be my wife, and i your husband and your mothers silly little rants will have no sway any longer” 

she gasped, he leant forward and finally kissed her, it was soft and sweet, leaving them both a blushing mess. 

The next two weeks moved slowly, filled with wedding planning. 

Her relationship with her mother was strained, finding most of the planning to be with her eldest sister Rhaenrya and even Heleana more so than her own mother. And the few times she was there she simply sent a glare in their direction and took at every laugh and smile.

She found that she rather enjoyed her sister's company, the two having a few similar interests. Rhaenyra seemed kind and cared for her children a great deal and as a result she did with her too. 

She knew her mother cared, but watching her mother interact with Rhaenyra highlighted that most of her mothers objections were actually ones of jealousy. She was Jealous of Rhaenyra and more so of Daemon, as he received more glares the more he and Rhaenrya showed affection to one another. So much jealousy that she swear she saw some longing in her gaze whenever she stared at Rhaenrya.

The day before her wedding she finally found herself alone with her mother though from the way her mother barged into her room she knew the conversation the pair were about to have would not be a pleasant one.

“sit down dearest” she spoke as she herself got comfortable.  Doing as her mother bid, she sat beside her. Her mother quickly took her hand in hers, tight enough that even if she were to recoil it would not break her free. 

“When I had this. Conversation with your sister, she already knew some of what was to come, with her Marrying Aegon, and will he loved to taunt her with the gory details for moons before their wedding” Alicent took a deep breath. “On the morrow you will be wed, and with that shall come some expectations” 

she nodded, not quite sure what her mother meant. “not only will you be taking on some of my duties but there is also the expectation of an heir…” she looked at her then, expecting her to interrupt in some way. She stayed quiet, she knew she would have to have children but how the act itself was done was peculiar to her.

Her mother shifted uncomfortably, “once you are wed the marriage must be consummated” she awkwardly grabbed at her hands, “it will be uncomfortable but some pleasure can be found in the act” she sent her mother peculiar look, causing her mother to cough uncomfortably and once again move to explain “your husband will…insert himself in you, and spill his seed, allowing a babe to be made, though it can take some time so i shall prey you are lucky and conceive soon…”

she looked down quietly “mother “she spoke slowly, “Aegon is my brother, though he and i aren’t close i have…walked in on him numerous times, time enough to know what sex is” 

Her mother was shocked, looking down and shaking her head, “your brother has no shame-“

“mother, i also have a septa who taught me” she laughed, Heleana only did not know because she was young mother, i am aware, in fact me and-“ she cut herself off not wanting her mother to become more shocked at hearing how her and Jace have already talked of the wedding night.

They were both inexperienced, though Jace had been taken to brothels by Daemon he had never actually done anything, wanting to save himself for his wife. A fact she was most happy about. 

She loved Jace, she realised. He was everything she did not expect, though he was chatty and loud, he was also kind and sweet, a perfect gentleman. She and him had more in common than not, they both loved to read though Jace found little time to do so, so was more than happy to listen to her ramble on and on about the last book she read. She had shown him how to paint and draw, a skill he, though terrible at, found rather enjoyable, especially when he got the flicking paint at her. She herself had even found she loved a few of his hobbies or well if you can call sword fighting a hobby. 

she remembered the morning, it was still early in their courtship, the first week in.  She and Jace had yet to sleep and yet they could see dawn breaking through the windows in his room. They had spent the whole day and night talking, getting to know each other. “it’s dawn already?” Jace sighed as he moved from his spot on the sofa. she sighed from the movement, missing his warmth. 

“it’s seems so” she hummed 

“it’ll be time for training soon.” he spoke, not necessarily to her. 

“Do you train alone?” 

“Here I do, On Dragonstone Daemon is typically dragging me and Luke out of bed the second the sun begins to rise but here he has no desire to train” he looked at her, “why don’t you join me?” he asked.

“i have never even touched a sword” she exclaimed, as if the idea was a mad one.

He grinned “exactly, it’ll be most entertaining!”

she laughed, “fine, but you must promise to show me your high Valyrian!” y/n declared, he had been complaining how bad his Valyrian was but refused to show her, despite her being fluent and offering to teach him.

He sighed, then a big grin filled his face “very well, let us teach one another, i teach you in swordsmanship and you teach me high Valyrian” 

she laughed “very well! though i make no promises to these swordplay lessons!”

They met again in the training yard, both in training clothes. She had borrowed hers from Jace and she was sure he was trying to sabotage her. His clothes hung from her in an almost comical way, he himself had laughed as she nearly tripped netting the training yard.

“you look beautiful” he said though his eyes were full of mirth as he took in the way his clothes hung from her.

“Perhaps you could have given me some of Luke's clothes instead” she sighed, a frown forming her face as she hung her arm up to show just how big his sleeves were compared to her arms.

“Next time we shall!” he declared, stopping his laughter to then pass her a wooden sword “for now it’s fine.” 

The sword was heavier than she was expecting, as shown by how she nearly dropped it.

“do you do any exercise?” he asked, seeing her near miss with the sword.

she scoffed “no, do i look like someone who does?” she asked bewildered.

he laughed “no i suppose not, and knowing you it doesn't surprise me that you do not” he took the sword off her “perhaps we should start with some exercise”

“what?” she asked, she hated doing anything that could be remotely referred to as exercise. 

“Don’t worry, just some light exercise, to build stamina”  he looked at her then, something passing through his eyes. something she had yet to see. 

He had made her run ten laps, stretch in more easily than she knew possible, And then finally let her hold the sword. “You know I was hoping you wouldn’t take this so seriously” she sighed, hitting the dummy repeatedly. Jace corrects her technique with each hit. “really?”

“Of course not, when you said it I had hoped we would just be jesting around” she sighed dramatically, before moving to place the sword down on the rack. “I think that this ‘lesson’ is over.” she started to walk away only for Jace to grab her arm.

“Wait!” he said, pulling her back to him gently. “Are you really not enjoying yourself?” he asked with a sad smile on his face. 

y/n sighed, before a small smile graced her face “no, but perhaps hearing you speak some high Valyrian may make it more joyous.” she spoke, though she was enjoying herself a little, though it would definitely not be a hobby she would be taking up, though watching him practice his swordsmanship, that is a hobby she will be taking up.

“I- really?” he asked, his face unsure, “nyk-e don’t ȳdragon ziree sȳr”

She laughed, his accent and pronunciation were all over the place, perhaps she was better at swordsmanship after one lesson that he was at high Valyrian after years of lessons, “it’s gaoman daor ȳdragon ziry sȳrī”

I do not speak it well

“See what I mean!” he exclaimed, as she continued to laugh.

“oh Jace, gaomagon daor worry nyke sure kesā jiōragon sȳrkta isse daor jēda” she taunted. 

do not worry I’m sure you will get better in no time

“I have no idea what you just said '' he sighed, shaking his head, “but at least i can hold a sword properly” he taunted back to her.

“Hey! It's my first lesson, have you been learning high Valyrian for how long?” she questioned, a gleam in her eyes.

“hāre jēdri” he replied, a smile as he realised he had pronounced it correctly

Three years

She hummed, beginning to circle him, “hāre jēdri? funny seeing hae heleanas riñar ȳdragon sȳrkta eglie valyrain than ao se issi balrey hāre pōntāla”

three years? Funny seeing as Heleanas children speak better high Valyrian than you and they are balrey three themselves

“I- well, stop taunting me!” he protested.

“Only if we can stop this, will I have reached my yearly exercise limit.. For the year!” she joked, dramatically falling, conveniently into his arms. 

“Fine, fine!” he said, “but you can not mention to anyone about my high Valyrian.” he brought her back to her feet.

“Oh please who would i tell? se lo nyke gōntan, skorkydoso would ao sesīr gīmigon?” she laughed, starting to walk away, only to have Jace chase her back all the way back to her chambers.

and if i did, how would you even know?

It was safe to say she never participated in his training again, but on the odd days she was awake when he went, she found she did in fact enjoy watching him.

It took a few attempts before they found a hobby they both loved equally. Painting. She had been painting for as long as she can remember, Jace however had taken it up about two weeks ago, but seemed to love it as much as she.

“Let's paint each other!” Jace declared, as he saw the paints y/n left out. 

She hesitated, “have you ever painted before?”

“No, but how hard could it be?” She laughed at that, but said nothing.

They sat opposite each other, their art facing only themselves. They gave themselves an hour before they would show each other what they had painted. 

Jace went first. He seemed so proud of himself. To give him credit it was fairly good, though it looked nothing like her. 

“It's good!” she exclaimed, “i like it” she reached forward to grab it “i shall have it framed” she hummed. Jace smiled widely at that.

“Show me yours!” he asked, or more declared as he turned the canvas around himself. 

His face was shocked, mouth wide, “i- wow” he was at a loss of words. “This is incredible!” he exclaimed, his face one of awe, “and you said mine was good!, you were lying!”

She laughed, “no-no it is, i promise” i grabbed his art then, comparing the two, before throwing his on the floor, “oh please, mine is rubbish, yours is wow! I think it shall become my official portrait!” he exclaimed standing up and walking to the doors with it. 

“woah ! where are you going?” she asked standing up to follow him.

“Too show everyone” he stated as if it was the obvious answer.

He showed it to everyone he saw, a blushing y/n on his tail.

“Mother.” she spoke, back once more in the present, “i trust him, more than anyone and anything” at that her mother relaxed, and for the first time in what felt like a long time, she saw a real smile gracing her mothers face.

The day of the wedding came, she had expected nerves and jitters, and yet all she felt was contentment. She knew she was lucky, most brides barely knew their husband before they wed them, and she knew Jace and he knew her. She knew his quirks, his hobbies, and he knew hers. They were polar opposites, and yet they fit so perfectly together. She was excited for this day, and as was he.

The dress she wore was her mothers dress. A white dress with sleeves coming down to her elbow before dropping down to the length of her dress showing a deep red. On her shoulder sat two dragons, dragons she had changed to represent Vermax and Gaelithox. The dragons were joined together and connected in an intricate pattern on her bodice. She wore no jewellery, only a small head piece, woven into the braids on her hair.

“You look beautiful” her mother declared. “Are you ready?”

y/n nodded, taking one final look at herself in the mirror, one last time before leaving her room.

The wedding was a blur, it went by so fast and before she knew it, Jace and her were declaring their love and sealing it with a kiss. They exchanged giddy smiles as they left the 

sept, their hands never wavering from their grip. The night celebrations went by quickly. The only time they never once left each others sides. It was the first event y/n ever truly enjoyed, they had danced four times that night, feasted to their heart's content, and enjoyed the first few hours of being newlyweds. 

Then it was time for the bedding. She had never been more grateful than when Jace shouted at the men attempting to drag her away, and he himself picking her up and taking her to their now shared chambers. 

“I am sorry for that.” he spoke, taking her hand in his, “I had made it clear we would not have a bedding, but -”

“Aegon had other plans' ' she interrupted, “do not worry, it's just who he is' ' she laughed.

For the first time in weeks the silence between them was awkward. Both knowing what was to come, but not how to start.

After a few moments Jace finally moved forward, he reached for her slowly, one had wrapping around her waist, the other reaching up to caress her face. They both looked at each other shyly, before Jace moved in closer, his lips capturing hers. It was soft and slow.

His lips still joined with hers they moved further into the room, his hand moving from her waist to her back, reaching and slowly unlacing the binds of her bodice.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked, breaking away from her lips.

She nodded, “yes.”  As she slowly reached to pull of her dress, leaving her in just her chemise.

Jace groaned his pants tightening, he reached forward once again capturing her lips in his.

 They slowly moved towards the bed, her hands reaching towards his clothes, slowly taking them off and leaving him in his small clothes.

There lips breaking apart, they both took each other in, before finally lying on the bed. Jace continued to kiss her slowly moving from her lips to her neck, his hands reaching down to her should and moving the straps of her chemise down, revealing her breasts.

“gods” he groaned, “you’re so beautiful” he said as he moved down to kiss her breasts. Slowly moving down her body, removing her chemise as he did, leaving her bare beneath him.

He was level with her heat, he had heard of kissing there and the thought of tasting her in such a way made a groan escape him. “Can I?” he begged, unsure of what he meant y/n nodded.

Jace dived in, giving a cautious lick through her folds, he groaned at the taste and quickly went back licking and tasting like a starved man. She herself was moaning in pleasure, her hands clutching the back of his neck, tightening when he finally found her bud.

Releasing the reaction form touching the small bud of nerves, he made sure to focus his efforts on it, sucking it into his mouth, and bringing his fingers up to her entrance, beginning to circle her juices and slowly tease his way into her.

Tensing at the feeling of the intrusion, she gripped further onto him, and started to move away. With his spare hand he gripped onto her and pulled her back to him. His finger now pully in he instead started to focus his intentions of pumping them in and out of her. Causing her to start moaning once again in pleasure, even more so when his second and third finger entered her. Soon she was reaching her peak.

He slowly backed away from her, pulling down his small clothes to revel his hard, thick long length.

“gods” they both groaned at the sight of the others naked body. He slowly crawled back onto the bed, his body covering hers. He once again took her lips with his, in a passionate and heated kiss, his legs slowly parted hers as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Are you sure?” he once again asked, caressing her face.

She nodded, covering the hand on her face with her own and reaching forward to kiss him again, “yes” she consented.

He nodded, kissing her once more as he slowly entered her.

She groaned at the stretch, feeling at slight sting as he slowly entered her. Her face contorted in quick discomfort, but quickly faded as he settled himself fully inside her, allowing her time to adjust.

“gods, you feel amazing” he groaned, moving his head to her neck. “can I move?” he groaned, near begged.

“yes” she said, and he wasted no time, slowly pumping in and out of her. Slowly the discomfort faded and all she could find was pure pleasure.

Moving in and out of her, Jace was moaning, kissing her neck with each thrust, he had never felt such pleasure as he did in this moment.

Slowly picking up the pace, he soon found that sweet spot inside her, that turned her into a moaning mess. Wrapping her arms around his neck she was soon grinding her hips against his, chasing her peak, and he was soon reaching one of his own, spilling his seed inside of her.

Slowly pulling from her, her moved to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her towards him, he kissed her slowly and whispered, “I love you”. In that moment she felt what could only be described as solace.

That night, they did not sleep a wink, nor would they in the moons that followed. Their marriage was a harmonious one, one of love and joy. And when the king finally passed, and Rhaenrya was queen, there was no division of factions of house Targaryen, she liked to think that their marriage has helped branch the units, and make them once more a family.

Even more so when nine moons after their wedding she birthed their first child.

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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. 

[suzannahnatters]

all RIGHT:

Why You're Writing Medieval (and Medieval-Coded) Women Wrong: A RANT

(Or, For the Love of God, People, Stop Pretending Victorian Style Gender Roles Applied to All of History)

This is a problem I see alllll over the place - I'll be reading a medieval-coded book and the women will be told they aren't allowed to fight or learn or work, that they are only supposed to get married, keep house and have babies, &c &c.

If I point this out ppl will be like "yes but there was misogyny back then! women were treated terribly!" and OK. Stop right there.

By & large, what we as a culture think of as misogyny & patriarchy is the expression prevalent in Victorian times - not medieval. (And NO, this is not me blaming Victorians for their theme park version of "medieval history". This is me blaming 21st century people for being ignorant & refusing to do their homework).

Yes, there was misogyny in medieval times, but 1) in many ways it was actually markedly less severe than Victorian misogyny, tyvm - and 2) it was of a quite different type. (Disclaimer: I am speaking specifically of Frankish, Western European medieval women rather than those in other parts of the world. This applies to a lesser extent in Byzantium and I am still learning about women in the medieval Islamic world.)

So, here are the 2 vital things to remember about women when writing medieval or medieval-coded societies

FIRST. Where in Victorian times the primary axes of prejudice were gender and race - so that a male labourer had more rights than a female of the higher classes, and a middle class white man would be treated with more respect than an African or Indian dignitary - In medieval times, the primary axis of prejudice was, overwhelmingly, class. Thus, Frankish crusader knights arguably felt more solidarity with their Muslim opponents of knightly status, than they did their own peasants. Faith and age were also medieval axes of prejudice - children and young people were exploited ruthlessly, sent into war or marriage at 15 (boys) or 12 (girls). Gender was less important.

What this meant was that a medieval woman could expect - indeed demand - to be treated more or less the same way the men of her class were. Where no ancient legal obstacle existed, such as Salic law, a king's daughter could and did expect to rule, even after marriage.

Women of the knightly class could & did arm & fight - something that required a MASSIVE outlay of money, which was obviously at their discretion & disposal. See: Sichelgaita, Isabel de Conches, the unnamed women fighting in armour as knights during the Third Crusade, as recorded by Muslim chroniclers.

Tolkien's Eowyn is a great example of this medieval attitude to class trumping race: complaining that she's being told not to fight, she stresses her class: "I am of the house of Eorl & not a serving woman". She claims her rights, not as a woman, but as a member of the warrior class and the ruling family. Similarly in Renaissance Venice a doge protested the practice which saw 80% of noble women locked into convents for life: if these had been men they would have been "born to command & govern the world". Their class ought to have exempted them from discrimination on the basis of sex.

So, tip #1 for writing medieval women: remember that their class always outweighed their gender. They might be subordinate to the men within their own class, but not to those below.

SECOND. Whereas Victorians saw women's highest calling as marriage & children - the "angel in the house" ennobling & improving their men on a spiritual but rarely practical level - Medievals by contrast prized virginity/celibacy above marriage, seeing it as a way for women to transcend their sex. Often as nuns, saints, mystics; sometimes as warriors, queens, & ladies; always as businesswomen & merchants, women could & did forge their own paths in life

When Elizabeth I claimed to have "the heart & stomach of a king" & adopted the persona of the virgin queen, this was the norm she appealed to. Women could do things; they just had to prove they were Not Like Other Girls. By Elizabeth's time things were already changing: it was the Reformation that switched the ideal to marriage, & the Enlightenment that divorced femininity from reason, aggression & public life.

For more on this topic, read Katherine Hager's article "Endowed With Manly Courage: Medieval Perceptions of Women in Combat" on women who transcended gender to occupy a liminal space as warrior/virgin/saint.

So, tip #2: remember that for medieval women, wife and mother wasn't the ideal, virgin saint was the ideal. By proving yourself "not like other girls" you could gain significant autonomy & freedom.

Finally a bonus tip: if writing about medieval women, be sure to read writing on women's issues from the time so as to understand the terms in which these women spoke about & defended their ambitions. Start with Christine de Pisan.

I learned all this doing the reading for WATCHERS OF OUTREMER, my series of historical fantasy novels set in the medieval crusader states, which were dominated by strong medieval women! Book 5, THE HOUSE OF MOURNING (forthcoming 2023) will focus, to a greater extent than any other novel I've ever yet read or written, on the experience of women during the crusades - as warriors, captives, and political leaders. I can't wait to share it with you all!

[silverspectre51]

Summoning the Boy King

Darkseid was rampaging through Metropolis, Superman was injured, and the Justice League was desperate. As the League hid between fallen skyscrapers, John Constantine prepared a last-ditch effort to save the Earth.

The Hellblazer drew an intricate sigil on the ground; its circular design stretching over six feet in diameter. Most of the symbols within were space-related, while the others were themed to royalty. Batman, one of the few heroes in-the-know, grunted.

"Are you sure this king ghost can help?"

Constantine sighed and pinched his nose.

"He's the High King of the Infinite Realms, Bats, an' he's bloody powerful. He'll stop Darkseid, alright, but what he does afterward is anyone's guess. Believe me, I wouldn't be doin' this if we had a choice."

Batman sighed and glanced at the smoke-filled horizon.

"Alright, get on with it, then. We're running out of time."

Constantine nodded and placed a single offering in the center of the sigil: a squishmallow of Disney's iconic blue alien, Stitch.

"I beg your finest pardon," Batman sputtered, "What on Earth is that?"

Constantine sighed again as he took his position at the edge of the sigil.

"Mate, the book was very specific. Unlike his predecessor, the new king requires a single offering of space or alien theme that is suitable for children. It's bloody strange, but beggars can't be choosers."

Batman just shook his head and looked on. Constantine raised his hands and started the summoning chant. An eerie, green glow spread across the sigil, and light fog gathered above it. Little white orbs floated up from the ground and spiraled together, forming the slowly spinning visage of a spiral galaxy.

"Incredible..." Zatanna gasped, "This summoning is on a level all its own. This king of yours is on the level of Gods."

Finally, something began to form over the small galaxy. Batman's expression quickly softened, much to the surprise of his teammates. It was mere seconds before they understood, as a black blob full of white stars formed into the shape of a boy. The blob had spiky 'bangs' if you could call them that and eerie, glowing green eyes.

The squishmallow floated into the boy's arms and he squeezed it excitedly. At the same time, he took on a far more human form, with pale skin and snowy white hair. His eyes had whites now but still glowed green. He was dressed in black and white, royal attire with green accents, a black crown floating in a green aurora, and a black ring with a green stone. A black cape flowed down his back, its underside looking as if it were cut from a clear night sky.

"Awesome offering, dude! What can I do for ya?"

The voice was a reedy tenor in the throes of puberty, and its owner was more than a little geeky. The boy's smile was infectious, or it would have been were it not for the specific circumstance.

"How old are you?" Batman asked, his tone soft, "We weren't expecting a child."

The boy waved him off like it was nothing.

"No one ever does. And, um... technically I'm fifteen. I know, I don't look it."

Constantine cut in, clearly out of patience.

"Look, this monster Darkseid is destroying our world. We need you to stop him."

The boy turned in the air and took in the destruction around him. Somehow, he seemed to understand the situation immediately.

"Okay, but I gotta get permission first. This'll take a lot of power." He paused, taking a breath, and then yelled in a strange language. "Mom!"

Constantine paled and the other heroes shrank back as a green portal tore into existence. A young woman, barely an adult herself, floated out. She had waist-length blue hair and the same glowing, green eyes. She wore a royal outfit in white and maroon, complete with a glittering, silver tiara studded with rubies.

"What's the matter, Danny? Are you okay?"

Danny nodded.

"Mhmm! These guys need me to take out this Darkseid guy, though. Can I use my full power?"

Constantine snuck a drink from his flask. He did not sign up to deal with the fucking Queen Mother of the Infinite Realms, nor had he known she existed. God, he needed a smoke...

The Queen Mother smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her son's forehead. She spoke whilst taking his new plush.

"Yes, Danny, you may. Let me hold onto this for you so it doesn't get dirty."

Danny nodded and turned away.

"Okay, thanks mom!"

The Queen Mother vanished through and with the portal she had created. Moments later, Danny shot off into the city, with the remaining able-bodied heroes hot on his trail. The young king reached Darkseid rather quickly, engaging him while the Leaguers looked on from cover. Darkseid was foolishly amused.

"A child dares oppose me? Flee, whelp."

Batman tensed as Darkseid unleashed his Omega Effect. Two red beams shot from his eyes, and yet the young king floated firm. Two eerie, green beams shot from his own eyes and, to the shock of everyone, overpowered his foe's. Darkseid shattered into many tiny pieces which then vanished into thin air.

"Man, he really wasn't smart!" Danny grinned, "Who fires a death beam at the king of the dead?"

He received no response, as the heroes were too stunned to speak. Smiling, he saluted the group before tearing open another portal.

"Oh well; villain gone, carry on. Later guys!"

Batman glared at Constantine, but the Brit had already absconded. Heaving a sigh, he resigned himself to this new reality. Darkseid was gone, but there was an incredible new power to worry about.

(Note: My only source of information is DP canon, DP fanon, and the Justice League cartoons from the early '00s. I apologize for any inaccuracies with Batman's or Constantine's behavior.)

[dreammfyre]

targaryen dynasty ⋆ jacaerys velaryon

SUMMARY. You are the first daughter of Daemon and Laena Velaryon, betrothed to Prince Jacaerys Velaryon whom you have known since childhood. Queen Rhaenyra personally asked you to seek out knights and ladies with Targaryen blood to try and get them to claim a dragon to join the cause. You, always so attached to reading and the most studious and intelligent, did not hesitate to obey your queen, however, it was proving to be more difficult than you imagined. Luckily, Jacaerys knows how to help you.

WARNIGS. (+18) Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!oc. Targaryen incest. Smut, oral (fem receiving).

NOTE. The thuth is that I don't know how thid got 5000 words, but here we are!!!

If anyone asked you, you had no idea how long you had been locked in the castle library. The queen had left you the task of researching in depth about the Targaryen lineage with valyrian blood and the right to claim a dragon, you did not refuse to comply with her orders, you were known for your intellect and interest about history, always with a different book under your arm, you handled data that the others did not, so you were in your comfort zone. However, you did not imagine it was going to be so complicated, you had had breakfast and lunch in the library in solitude, which meant that you had been locked up all day among papyrus, books written in the language of your family, you had read about the dragons still alive, especially Vermithor and Silverwing, but you found more than you needed and your attention jumped from subject to subject, you had never access to such a place and did it hold information on Targaryen history from the time of the conquerors to the reign of Jaehaerys I Targaryen.

"My lady." Elinda's voice, so soft and gentle as she addressed you, dissipated your attention causing you to turn your head up from your reading. The maid was standing in the doorway and you behind the wooden desk in the midst of your own chaos, you had ordered not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency. "Why don't you go upstairs to dine with the queen in parlor?"

"I'm fine, thank you." You smiled trying to put on your best face, the truth was you didn't want to appear before Rhaenyra without any advances.

Elinda sighed knowing she wasn't going to be able to convince you to come out for fresh air, she wasn't surprised at your response, always so stubborn and driven to your ideas.

"It's okay, I know you, so I went ahead and brought dinner up here." She said walking over with the silver tray holding a steaming plate and a cup. "Eat before rest, you've spent a lot of time in this place, you haven't been eating well and we don't want your body to weaken."

You nodded and thanked her before she left. You watched the food from afar without appetite, so went back to reading, the Targaryen bloodline had expanded to different places, moving out of King's Landing and Dragonstone to other lands. You were writing down the possible names of knights and ladies with what needed to claim a dragon, so far there weren't many options, but you didn't want to be left in doubt you looked everywhere. You stood up to look for another book that you had not yet read, this time from the houses to the north, you had a mess everywhere and on every table, open books, scattered papyrus, the shelves almost empty. Your notes on the other hand, Valyrian texts that read without problems, as if a hurricane had swept away the order.

You took from the cup that Elinda had brought with sweet wine to which you gave a generous gulp. You paced back and forth reading and reviewing the history, trying to find useful connections to the present, back and forth, flipping through the pages and drinking. When you started to get dizzy from the spinning you found no better idea than to sit on the table crossing your legs no matter how uncomfortable your clothes were, on your thighs opened the heavy book so you could hold the glass in your hands.

"Are you still here?" Jacaerys had entered the library, taking you by surprise. The heir found you in the middle of the mess, surrounded by papers, sitting on the table which was frowned upon for a lady. "I haven't seen you all day."

"I think I hate the Targaryen." Sighed, relaxing your shoulders and looking up. Jacaerys smiled coming closer, watching the mess around you out of the corner of his eye, but he was sure you were the one to find what Rhaenyra was looking for. "Is that wine?" he pointed to your goblet raising his eyebrows.

"Elinda feeds me like an imprisoned animal."

"I doubt an imprisoned animal would be fed lamb and wine." This time it was you who smiled. "How are you doing with your mission?"

"I found some names that might be of use, let's hope they are still alive." You replied setting the cup aside, on top of other papers that were of no use to you at the moment. "The children of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alyssane were a great starting point that I cannot yet move on from."

"My mother asked about your absence at the table. I told her you needed time, and that I was going to keep an eye on you." You nodded, a little flushed at the last part, but you knew how to hide it.

"That's Visenya Targaryen?" Jace asked excitedly as he looked at the draw in the book open on your legs, moving closer to you to get a better look, invading your space.

"Queen Visenya," you corrected him causing him to apologize. "Vhagar's first rider." You looked at the image closely admiring her beauty, trying to take in the closeness of Jacaerys. "And the first in her name."

Jacaerys watched you from the corner of his eye biting the inside of his cheek, he liked the way you corrected him, even on some occasions when you chatted privately he would purposely get it wrong to make you angry. You just looked up meeting your fiancé's gaze, which made him realize he had gone silent.

"This place is…" the heir looked around you carefully analyzing the room, he didn't know how to continue the sentence without offending you.

"Say it, a complete mess." You sighed exhaustedly.

The prince nodded with concern for your well being, you are his fiancée and he had to take care of you, he looked at you noticing your tired eyes, your hair a bit messy falling a few unruly strands down your face, the dress disarranged on your shoulders. And somehow, through his eyes, even though it sounded bad and he didn't have the courage to admit it out loud, that was attractive.

He took a lock of your hair and tidied it behind your ear, it was a gesture he repeated and you liked it.

"Do you need help?" you denied immediately, you didn't want to look pitiful or desperate. "Don't be proud, I know you."

"Apparently it's not as simple as I imagined." You said discouraged, looking at the papers scattered around you. You closed the book putting it aside, you couldn't think anymore, you were blocked, tired and your body was asking you to eat and rest, maybe not in that order. You stretched your legs, still sitting on the table with Jacaerys watching you. "Targaryen dynasty is vast and diffuse, complex to trace, now I understand why several names are missing. I don't want Rhaenyra to be disappointed, I'm trying my best."

Hearing you, Jacaerys quickly interrupted placing his hand on your thigh unknowingly unleashing a shiver down your back. "The queen could not have chosen anyone better than you, you are the smartest lady I know." He said sincerely, positioning his other hand on your shoulder. "Go to sleep, you need it."

Tired, you rested your forehead on his shoulder resting on it. Jacaerys stroked your loose hair without removing his hand on your leg. The physical contact comforted you, but you didn't accept it often, so it was a surprise for the prince to have you so close.

"I'll dream of dragons." You joked with eyes closed, Jace's scent intoxicating you immediately. "I'll stay a while longer, I think I know where to find a thread to pull on."

"Eat something first." He added as he noticed the tray with the untouched plate. His caresses relaxed you, feeling his fingers tangle in your hair made you feel a delicious shiver, so you let him repeat it, even his tone of voice relaxed your muscles.

"I'm not hungry yet."

Jacaerys swallowed hard as your warm breath hit his neck, bristling his skin. He didn't know how the hell she was managing to control himself like that, when she held you close his thoughts were easily confused and the heart was about to burst out of his chest. In a moment of weakness, the prince closed his eyes in order to intensify the sensations, in the middle of the silence and taking advantage of the hidden place where they were, he squeezed thigh on the fabric of the dress, it was not strong, just enough to steal a sigh and that now the tachycardia clouded your reason. You didn't know at what moment that comforting embrace turned into a boundary of something else, Jacaerys Velaryon stirred as he felt the tip of your nose brush against his exposed neck before you, a slow, torturous contact.

The heir's hands were too still, he was controlling himself as much as his duty allowed him. While you had little interest in complying with the damned traditions, they were teenagers, you couldn't ask much of them in that regard.

The tension of their bodies rubbing against each other grew with each movement in a pleasant and affectionate rhythm, but you urgently needed it to increase, so opened your legs to surround his body with your thighs, the prince did not think a second to position himself between them taking advantage to squeeze your ass tearing you a sigh that vanished in his mouth. You brought your lips to his neck leaving kisses all over, Jacaerys did not want to stop you, he had fallen too easily into the game. The prince's hands were eager to touch as much as possible went up from your waist to your breasts, you had never seen him like that, then your fiancé sought your mouth before you kissed his bristling skin again.

"Jace…" you whispered against his lips touching slowly with yours, your warm breath hitting his face, he could hear the desperation in your call looking into your eyes, but his gaze was focused on your wet lips.

Shit. His name sounded so different when you said it.

It was he who had the courage - or the impulse - to make the move to close the distance between you, an accurate approach to trap your lips between his, his hand took your jaw and prey to desires you opened your mouth to let his tongue enter your cavity, sticky, wet noises echoed off the stone walls as Jacaerys brushed his tongue along yours. The taste of sweet wine ended up intoxicating him as well. His slow movement caused a wave of heat to grow in the underside of your belly, you rested a hand behind the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his wavy hair.

Your heart could not calm down, on the contrary, it begged for more. The crown prince began to lift your red dress, a messy piece of infinite fabric, so you clumsily helped him by crumpling it until he slipped his hand underneath it, running his fingers over your bare skin playing with your sanity by how slowly he explored.

"Someone could see us at any moment." You reminded him that they weren't in the privacy of your quarters or his, trying to gesture because your labored breathing was making it hard to think.

"They can listen to whatever they want." He responde kissing your neck moving down to your collarbones, the heat of his mouth on your skin felt like the most exciting thing you had ever tasted. The intense grip on your legs didn't bother you at all because it was him, his deep voice made you bristle complete when he whispered too intoxicated in the moment to be his usual proper prince self. "I said I would take care of you."

You laughed at how little importance he gave to your innocent concerns, too sure that nothing was going to happen, but maybe it was just adrenaline and desire clouding his rational thoughts. Jacaerys kept going down, kissing between your breasts on the fabric, until he knelt before you, you held your breath when you understood his intentions, he raised his gaze towards you, an intense silence where your nobility was at stake for falling into carnal temptation, it was a few seconds until you decided to lift the skirt of your dress so he could have the access he desired.

Your fiancé began to kiss the inside of your thighs gently, just that minimal contact made you tremble on the table. "Don't close the legs." He ordered.

Your cheeks flared in heat as a reminder of the sin they were committing, yes, it was your fiancé who was between your legs unabashedly, but it was still Jace, whom you had known all your life and had grown up together, the most proper prince Westeros had ever seen, so devoted to duty that no one would imagine he would be able to steal your innocence out of wedlock, but there he was, he was the same, kneeling before you like a believer, kissing your thighs feeling his hot breath approaching your cunt exposed to his delight. The sighs coming out of your mouth were intensifying as Jacaerys swollen lips approached your most sensitive area making him beg, you felt he was toying with your sanity but he only wanted to extend your pleasure as long as you would hold out. Your hands clutched at the fabric of your dress, his wet tongue flicked across your cunt, he didn't quite finish his journey when your knees had the urgent urge to close like a natural spasm, but Jacaerys prevented it by holding your legs tightly apart for him, continuing his work of giving you the pleasure you deserved.

"Oh, Jace, gods." You said with bated breath, an emotional torture of not knowing how far you could go before you screamed. His tongue kept licking like candy, unabashedly tasting knowing what he was doing, moving up and down listening to your moans that excited him as much as it did you to feel his mouth on your center, the heir seemed to be having fun taking his time under your dress, reveling in your desperation. The warm wet sensation on your folds sliding down began to make you desperate, in an attempt to quiet your moans so as not to draw attention to yourself you bit your tongue so hard that the moan was one of pain rather than pleasure. You crumpled some papers in search of what to hold on to, you closed your eyes intensifying the spasms even more. "Jacaer…"

Saying his name seemed the most difficult task.

You managed to feel the crown prince's long fingers opening your pussy slippery with his saliva and your transparent wetness dripping. Again he ventured in with his mouth, this time with more euphoria and hunger, making little circles with his tongue, drowning himself in you tasting your cunt as he had never done to any of the whores on the island, with you he took great pains to get it right. Agitated, chest rising and falling from your erratic breathing the prince placed one of his hands on your belly as if he knew you were looking for him, intertwining his fingers you squeezed as his tongue pushed into your entrance. Curiosity as to how he learned to do that had to wait because your legs began to tremble and you began to move struggling against the strength of Jacaerys who wasn't going to stop servicing you until you were done.

"Please… Jace."

"You are so wet." Said the prince as an accomplishment, but you were embarrassed to know how vulnerable you were before him. The sound of his mouth playing with your clit, so wet and wrong, similar to a kiss where Jace was just doing all y he work. You searched for his head with your hand which was complicated by being hidden under your skirt, the damn dress prevented you from looking into his eyes, you wanted to look at him and beg his face not to stop now that you were so close to touching the best orgasm of your life. Jacaerys was struggling with your legs, so he put your thigh over his shoulder without letting go of your hand. "You have to hold on a little longer. I promise you'll like it."

"I c-can't." You cried trembling.

Between your legs, Prince Velaryon was reveling in your pleasure with a painful erection trapped in his pants that only hardened against the fabric with every high-pitched moan coming from your throat. He had to be strong to hold back the urge to take advantage of your wetness and penetrate you right then and there, that wasn't the first time he thought of you that way nor was it going to be the last after tonight, he would go to his quarters overwhelmed to attend to himself just thinking of you for another night. You were so open that with a little strength you could take it, but you were not ready for the moment and deep down, Jacaerys felt just as guilty for giving in to temptation by breaking traditions, disrespecting you to a lady of nobility.

"Jace, oh, like that." You moaned wiggling your hips.

But shit, he couldn't take one more moon without claiming that belongs to him. Your whole body, your every desperate moan and plea. It was an addictive melody that he didn't want it to end.

You reached for his head with your hand under the cloth that was being Jacaerys' salvation because if he saw your sweaty face, pink cheeks and pleading gestures he wasn't going to be able to hold back the urge, fucking you right there on that table. Merciful to your clumsiness, Jace took your hand turning it towards the back of his neck, you tangled his wavy hair between your fingers, bringing it closer to your center than it already was which only encouraged your fiancé to lose control by gently biting your cunt and with his finger caressing your exposed clit like a throbbing button.

"Gods!" You exclaimed so loudly that Jace feared for both of your lives. You covered your mouth yourself, waiting for someone to walk in and find them you sitting at the table with the heir kneeling between your legs under your dress. "I-I'm sorry." You whispered in exasperation.

"Scream whatever you want." It was a command rather than a comfort.

And you listened to him. Your body couldn't resist any longer, the spasms were getting stronger and Jacaerys knew you were close to orgasm, your legs faltered and couldn't hold still. You pulled your fiancé's hair, which instead of annoying him, he liked to feel. You mumbled incoherently, cursing everything, your hips couldn't stay still and Jacaerys' tongue wasn't making it any easier. You let go of the heir's hand on your belly to cover your mouth, however, Jace grabbed your wrist preventing that from happening. The rule had been clear, he wanted to hear you screaming his name to burn it into his memory, he wanted to hear your whimpers and pleas not to stop, your choked moans, the curses and incoherent ramblings.

"Jace!" your chest was rising and falling so fast you felt short of breath. The pressure between your legs was increasing, you closed your eyes tightly trying to hold on a second longer, but it was impossible. "Oh, shit!"

Your orgasm came as a spasm that controlled your whole body, from your hair to your legs. Jacaerys knew it when the tension in your muscles disappeared and he didn't have to exert any more force to hold you back. His pace slowed considerably, he didn't hold back from licking one last time.

Your body was wracked, aroused to return to normal. Your chest was expanding and contracting fast, the sweaty skin made it look shiny. Your body had peaked, and now, you missed Jacaerys' tongue between your legs. The heir stepped out from under your skirt, his mouth wet from his own saliva and your wetness in a mixture that soaked into his pink, swollen lips. The prince was red in the face, his hair falling down his face in the most exciting mess, he looked so good. He wiped his mouth with his clothes and fixed his hair behind his ears without taking eyes off you.

"You were very good lady." He stroked his thumb across your red cheek, you closed your eyes at his gentle, almost brotherly caress, a well-deserved congratulations. You were still weak and rambunctious with ragged breathing and a high pulse, your body wasn't going to withstand another orgasm, not for tonight. Jace moved closer to your face, he wanted to admire you up close, your exposed neck was the target of a kiss. "Did you like it?" he whispered so slowly against your ear that a shiver brought you back to reality. His breath beating against your damp skin was a reminder that you were completely crazy about him, no one in all of Westeros could service you so well.

You nodded in shame and innocence. You couldn't hear him, but you knew he was smiling.

"Y-yes." You replied looking into his eyes. Your innocent look reignited the fire in Jacaerys, who was still holding back the urge to fuck you.

The prince closed his eyes and swallowed saliva in frustration. He had to be aware that no matter how good it felt, it wasn't right.

"We can't do it here again." He took your face in his hands caressing your skin with his fingers. You nodded again, seeing you so obediently at his mercy only triggered his excitement, fighting until the last second. Jacaerys moved closer to your face, you closed your eyes expecting him to kiss you, but you only felt the brush of his lips against yours and his breath against your mouth. "Next time I'll rip that fucking dress off you myself with my bare hands."

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Better when you're here ⭑

Masterlist

Pairing: Sad!king!aegon x sister!reader

A/N: #needthat

Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, pure filth, aegon whines so much I lost count, heavy mommy kink, sub aegon, fingering, piv sex, slight handjob, titty sucking (yes again), sad aegon.

Summary: Sad and needy Aegon just needs mummy to make him feel better :((((

Word count: 2.2k (pretty short blurb)

The gardens were your favourite place in the Red Keep, it was often quiet. And not to mention the beautiful view of the sea. You sat at one of the table’s in an alcove, it was nice and tucked away, giving you your own private space.

You read some book for a while and enjoyed your wine and lemoncakes. Because you never knew when it would be the last time you could sit here. You had been of age for two years now, and even though you have avoided marriage for quite a while, you never knew what your grandsire Otto Hightower had in mind. 

Now you had at least some security since your eldest brother Aegon was now king and everyone was distracted by the war that loomed over Westeros like a black cloud. Only a few more drops of rain to form before the whole thing came crashing down. 

Frustration and anxiety filled everyone's hearts and it was hard to pretend nothing was wrong. But the person you feared most right now was Aemond, he seemed to lose control everyday and he shocked the realm when he killed his own fourteen year old nephew at Storm’s End. However he was now to marry too, to some Baratheon girl and you knew that soon they would use you too, to make alliances with houses. Binded by a meaningless marriage.

You felt like it was all you were good for, and you saw how it affected Helaena and Aegon. Your heart broke for her, she wanted nothing more than to be left alone and live in peace, yet she must be queen. Aegon was of course also affected by this, ever since he became king he drank more than ever before and had even grown a bit of a belly. Still he remained of a nice physique. 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you rode your dragons with him. He didn’t have much of a relationship with Helaena, seeing her more as his quiet sister than his wife and queen and for some reason it seemed better that way. She would be left alone more. 

But you and Aegon were a different story, you liked to sneak around and have fun with him. He might not be a great king or a good man but he was a good brother to you. And you saw things in him that no one else seemed to. The crown seemed to only stress him out and you knew that he just wanted to live out his days drinking wine and relaxing but your mother and grandsire had other plans. 

As of late you couldn’t see him much, council meetings took a great part of the day and he would always hide in his chambers afterwards. Your mother seemed to keep you away from him, for what reason you didn’t know. Your days went from watching Aemond train, flying around KIng’s Landing with Aegon and running around the Red Keep with friends to praying at the Sept, locked inside your chamber or helping Helaena with embroidery. That is why the gardens offered a nice escape.

Soon you would pay a visit to your elder sister and her twins. After a morning at the sept with your mother and sister you needed some alone time. But Helaena was always a calming and nice presence and it was good to keep her company.

After reading the last sentence of a chapter you closed the book, and decided it would be nice to sow with Helaena. As you walked through the halls of the red keep numerous ‘your grace’ and ‘princes’ surrounded you, staff getting out of your way. You ascended the stairs in the throne room, it was empty. Soon it would be supper time but there was enough time.

When you reached Helaena’s door you could already hear your niece and nephew playing, which put a smile on your face. You knocked twice and a handmaiden opened, letting you inside. Helaena was sitting on some blankets and pillows, already embroidering what looked like a blanket. She looked up and slightly smiled when you joined her side, children playing on their own blanket. 

Getting handed some thread, a needle and a new fabric, as was the routine, you began to work on something for Aegon and if you worked hard enough you could bring it to him tonight. When you were about finished, a servant came in to fetch you and Helaena for supper with the family.

But when you arrived only Aemond, Alicent and Otto were there, Aegon’s seat was empty. Silently you both joined them and began eating without him. Supper was tense and silent as it had been for about a month now. When you had finished, you excused yourself and fetched the doublet you had finished before supper, wanting to bring a gift to your brother. 

When you had fetched it you hurriedly made your way up to the king's bedchambers, you knew something was wrong with Aegon, all the stress had probably gotten to him. When you had almost reached the door Ser Criston Cole stood guard there. He bowed his head before he spoke; “Princess, the king does not wish to be disturbed right now.” He said politely. 

“I understand, but I have something to cheer him up, so please, let me enter.” Ser Criston seemed to think about it, before releasing a sigh and opening the door for you, very softly as to not disturb his grace. You stepped inside and Cole just as softly as he opened the door, closed it again. It was now dark and Aegon’s fire was lit as he sat in a chair in front of it, you could hear the sobs coming from him. It broke your heart. 

You quietly made your way towards him. “Aegon?” You called out. He didn’t lift his head. You walked around him so you were standing in front of him, he looked up with red stained cheeks, and red, tear filled eyes. “Oh Aeg- what happened?” You asked him, instead of answering he buried his head into your stomach, his hand gripping your dress as he sobbed into it. The doublet falling on the ground.

You caressed his messy short silver locks and he continued to sob for a while, in your embrace. Then he seemed to speak up; “They- don’t care about- me-” He choked against you in between sobs. “Who doesn’t care about you?” You were confused but he lifted his head from your now tear stained dress. “The- the- council- mother- my own hand- they don’t- care-!” He sobbed as he looked at you desperately. 

But to your surprise he pulled you in his lap as his hands were still clinging to your dress. You gasped as you landed on his thighs, he buried his face in your chest instead and continued to cry, the doublet on the ground, forgotten. “Aegon they do care, especially mother, they just want the best for you. To help guide you since they have knowledge of war-” “No! They all hate me- everyone of them!” His breath on your skin gave you goosebumps. His hand now rested on your hip, keeping you in place. 

“You’re the only one who loves me- I see that now- my beautiful smart sister.” He seemed to have exhausted his tears as they now stopped, he breathed heavily against your chest, nuzzling his face against your breasts. He must have had wine. “You love me? Right sister?” He mumbled against your breasts. “Of course I do, so incredibly much. I would do anything for you.” You soothed him, hand still grazing through his silver locks. His purple eyes stared up at you and he smiled slightly.

“Anything?” He asked softly. “Of course, you are not only my brother but my king.” You smiled, placing a kiss on his forehead. This stirred something in him and he breathed heavier again. His face and especially his nose grazed your neck and jaw, lips ghosting over the warm skin. Your own breath hitched in your throat at the feeling. “Aeg-” He ignored you and started to kiss and nip at the soft skin. You lightly gasped at the feeling, and then you felt something hard against your thigh. 

“Brother I don’t think we should-” He stopped and looked at you with teary eyes. “I need this- I need you. Please- just- just let me make you feel good. To thank you. Please mummy.” That last part was whined against your chest where he let his hand graze the low neckline of your dress. Since it was warm earlier, it was quite thin and loose. Your body felt hot at his words, your lower stomach filled with an ache you didn’t understand.

His hand started then at the bottom of your leg, underneath your dress, as he caressed your leg moving up and up where you didn’t know you needed him. “I’m so hard for you mummy. All because of you.” He whined. His hand had finally reached your core, two of his fingers rubbing over your smallclothes, which were already wet with your slick. “Aegon-” You moaned, sparks went off in your body at his touch, you had no idea what he was doing to you but seven hells did it feel good. You hoped he would never stop, but still it felt wrong and guilt consumed you. Yet you didn’t stop him.

His other hand that didn’t tease your clothed clit was still busy with your neckline. The dress was loose enough for him to pull it down so your tits would fall out. He wasted no time in sucking on them. The feeling of his warm wet tongue sucking on your nipple made you release a moan. It felt way too good, it had to be a sin. Aegon himself moaned around your breast, bucking his hips up in need for friction. All your will to stop him had left you. Desire clouding your mind. You moved so that both of your legs were now on either side of his lap, the chair was big and comfortable enough to allow this. 

Aegon released your nipple but never moved his hand from teasing you. But when you sat down, his hand trapped, he removed it and pulled at your dress, eager to remove it. You didn’t know why you did it, but you needed him. You helped him remove your dress and shimmied out of your small clothes as well. “Need to be inside you mummy.” You gasped at his fingers sliding through your now bare slit. His fingers then stimulating your clit. Your breath hitched when he put a finger inside you, going deeper until he found that spot that would make you see stars. He stretched you out a bit for a while until he got too impatient and grabbed your hand to place between you, over his bulge. 

You instinctively squeezed it making him gasp. He moved your hand and quickly undid his breeches himself. He then reached for your hand again and helped you stroke his thick veiny cock. Pre cum started to dribble out over both your hands. And Aegon groaned at the sight. When he was almost about to cum for your hand alone, he removed it, as he did, he removed his fingers inside your cunt as well. Grabbing your hips instead, his cock was so hard it hurt and the feeling of his tip hitting your warm slick entrance almost made him cry out. He used one hand to guide his cock better inside you and you winced in pain. “It’ll be better soon, I promise.” He said softly. 

You whispered okay and he buried himself deeper inside until he was fully sheathed inside you. Your clit hit his pelvic bone and a bolt of pleasure shot through you. You felt so sensitive and weak. When you felt like the pain went away you slowly started to grind and bounce on his cock, testing the waters. He whimpered in response, it just felt so good for him. He held on to your hips so you could start a steady rhythm and he knew he wouldn't last long. “So tight mummy- feels so good.” He sobbed. Squelching and slapping noises filled the room and you both forgot all about a certain guard outside. 

Both of your moans filled each other's mouths as you held on tight to each other. Lost in pleasure you chase your release and started riding him faster, Aegon started to fuck up into you in response chasing his own high. “Mummy- I-I’m close- please- gonna fill you so good.” Aegon whined. This only spurred you on and soon you clenched down on his cock, fire striking through you, you had never felt such insane pleasure in your life. Aegon did not stop fucking into you though and only moments later he cried out as his warm seed filled you. He squeezed you against him tightly to hold you in place. 

He came so much it started to drip out along his shaft, onto his balls and some drops even landed on the floor. You both caught your breath and Aegon didn’t let go of you. But after a few moments his grip loosened and you winced when his softening cock left you. He whined at your warm body getting up but you soothed him, just getting the rest of his clothes off and helping him to the bed. You laid down as well and he immediately crawled up against your chest. “Thank you mummy.”

[spxllcxstxr]

Northern Attitude (I) • C.S

(Gif not mine)

Request: hey!! can i request something where you’re a targaryen and you’ve been sent to speak with cregan like jacaerys did on the show, but you’re quite soft spoken and feel lowkey intimidated by all these big burly northmen. and ofc some flirting with cregan and he makes you feel safe :) -- @sarahisslytherin

Summary: In the process of assuring Winterfell’s loyalty to your mother, you get close to Lord Stark

Warnings: fem!reader, you’re the daughter of Rhaenyra but I don’t specify the father so it can be more inclusive (older than jace), alcohol and eating mentions

Word Count: 1.3k

A.N: This wasn't going to be this long and then I got so into it. I'm actually really happy with how this turned out! Not just because it's actually over 1k words, but also because i really really like it! And I hope you guys enjoy it too!!

Part I | Read the last part here!

•

The bitter cold of the North nips at your extremities even when housed inside the walls of Winterfell. This was a cold you felt right down to the bone, despite the furs your host had provided you with only hours prior when you arrived.

Since your arrival, you have occupied yourself in your chambers, flitting between the books on the shelves and the small hearth on the other side of the decent sized room.

It is not until late your host makes an appearance; matters from the Wall taking priority over the Queen's daughter. You held no ill will, knowing how important the Wall was for the Northmen closest to it.

The greeting outside of your chamber door goes smoothly; since birth you had to greet numerous Lords and Ladies, this one being no different. His charming looks, though stoic, catch you off guard. You take his offered arm before he guides you to the welcome feast.

Cregan leads you through the dark stone corridors of Winterfell, your arms intertwined as you hold onto the crook of his elbow. You feel his strong muscle through his many layers of thick fabric. Your footsteps echo along with the metallic rattling of your guards behind the two of you. The absence of conversation is comfortable, however, something you truly have not felt since the death of your Grandsire.

Beside you, Cregan practically radiates warmth which has you almost melting into his side. Despite the chill, his hands are uncovered, the palm of his hand rests on your arm, heating your covered skin beneath.

The sight of the rugged wooden doors causes you to stiffen almost immediately. The reality of your purpose for being at Winterfell cools your blood as it finally washes over you. You were here on behalf of your mother, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. Swallowing uneasily, you attempt to calm your nerves.

Sensing your distress, Cregan leans closer to your frame. "Do not fret, Princess," He mutters kindly. "You have no one to convince except me—and I am already highly inclined to agree to your terms."

You do not spare your host a glance as your face burns. In front of you, the grand doors open, revealing a large hall and guests already rising for the two of you.

Your gaze glides over the bowing figures, all men, you notice. The only women in the hall were serving girls; stiffly standing at the ends of the room, pitchers full of presumably ale clutched in their hands.

Attempting to muster up a commanding presence was difficult when next to the Lord of Winterfell, for he commands the room with no effort. His men watch you as you continue to the other side. Their intense stares and built bodies making you nervous. Swords were strewn recklessly across their dining tables, bows and arrows litter the floor. In their eyes you were a defenseless babe crawling into a den of wolves.

The men in King’s Landing and Dragonstone were dangerous in a different way. Their sharp wit and web of lies could cut deep and kill. The men of the North, however, used their brute force and self-assured bravery to kill you just as dreadfully. Any one of these men could bloody you as you walk by them. This rattles you just as much as the plotting traitors back in King’s Landing does.

Taking a deep breath, you feel the soothing motions of Cregan's thumb tracing circles against your arm. The reassurance pulls you out of your spiral of thoughts. With your chin held high you continue to the front of the hall, the long wooden table already covered with food and goblets of wine and ale.

After a few words from both you and Cregan the feast begins and the once silent hall becomes almost deafening. There were plenty of jeers and jokes thrown around at your expense. If you had more fire in your blood like the rest of your family, you might have said something to stay their tongues.

You and Cregan make small talk, the two of you paying more attention to the plates on the table. By the time your appetite is sated the Lord of Winterfell had noticed your meek demeanor and timid glances at the drunk Northmen below.

"Pay them no mind, Princess," The warm light of the hall's hearth dance in Cregan's striking grey eyes. "These rowdy bastards lack decency after a drop of ale."

You scan Winterfell's great hall from your position at the high table. Cregan Stark's men were all in various states of disarray, though you suppose it’s only characteristic of Northerners. The room was loud, almost overwhelmingly so, with booming laughter and arguments that spanned across the tables.

"Not like Dragonstone, I presume?" At Cregan's soft yet baritone voice, heat creeps up your neck.

Your gaze turns to the Lord of Winterfell, a smile gracing his usually stoic face. "Not at all, my Lord. Dragonstone is more.."

"Boring?"

"Traditional," You finish, smile mirroring his own.

Cregan snorts. "Aye, you Southerners have quite the stick up the arse."

"Oh really now?" You lightly giggle, tilting your head as if to challenge the Northerner at your side. You drink from your goblet, the red wine sweet on your lips, eyebrows raised.

"Aye, Princess. I think you need a Northerner to invigorate your life down there."

You hum in response, the wine making your skin tingle. With your attention now solely on Cregan Stark, you feel yourself melting into comfort.

Cregan briefly pauses, looking into your eyes. They mirror an oncoming winter storm and you’re unable to look away.

“I have something to attend to, Princess. My men will escort you and your guards to your quarters.” He takes your hand in his, the delicate grip of such a strong man making you bite your bottom lip. “I will try to see you before the night ends.” With that, his lips meet your knuckles in a soft kiss.

Cregan heaves himself out of his seat, throwing you one last smirk before leaving you in the hall with your guards and the remaining feasting men.

With one last sip from your goblet, you allow yourself to be escorted to your chambers, tugging your fur cloak tighter around you.

The crescent moon is shining through your window when you hear three knocks on you door. Assuming that this late night visitor could only be Lord Stark, you rise from the bed, adorning the fur cloak your host had provided you earlier in the day.

The door creaks as you open it tentatively. Cregan stands at the threshold, wearing the same attire from the feast. You take note of the hint of pink on his cheeks and the red hue of the tips of his ears peeking out of his shoulder length brown hair. Whether this was a result of the North's bitter chill or something else, you do not know.

"Princess." He bows his head as he greets you.

"Lord Stark..." You breathe out, smiling at the man in front of you. "Is this visit based on the business of the Crown?"

"No, Princess, I just..." His low tone tapers off as he lifts his hand up in order to stroke you face. His fingertips feel warm against your skin. You wait with bated breath for his next move. Slowly, his fingertips trace down your delicate skin to hold your chin between his index and his thumb. He tilts your head up slightly. His stormy grey eyes never leave your own. "I just wanted to gaze upon your beauty once more before I fall asleep."

The maneuver has you practically trembling under your heavy furs. You wet your lips, his eyes only quickly following the movement before once again settling back on your eyes.

"I am happy to indulge in your desires...my Lord." You whisper, voice almost quivering.

"Sleep well, Princess," With that, Cregan removes his touch, though his warmth still lingers across your face. He bows once more before turning and walking down the stone corridor.

Slowly you close your chamber door, smiling lips pursed.

"Mother will be pleased." You sigh before sitting once more on your bed, thoughts of Cregan Stark dancing through your head.

•

[moonlight-joy]

The Dragon’s Defiance

Fandom: House of Dragon

Summary: Queen Alicent Hightower attempted to humiliate you, the pregnant wife of Daemon Targaryen, by summoning you to the throne room in a calculated power play. However, Daemon fiercely defended you, publicly dismantling Alicent’s scheme and forcing King Viserys to intervene in your favor. Alicent’s plan backfired, exposing her desperation and strengthening your bond with Daemon. Together, you stood as an unshakable force, a reminder that dragons bow to no one.

Pairing: Reader/Daemon Targaryen

The Red Keep had always been a maze of whispers and shadows, but since Queen Alicent Hightower had risen to power beside King Viserys, the castle walls seemed alive with sharp ears and sharper tongues. You had lived within these halls long enough to understand how quickly alliances could shift, how loyalty could be traded like coin. Yet, for all the intrigue that surrounded you, you had never let the weight of court life break you.

You were Targaryen, wife to Daemon Targaryen—the Rogue Prince—and mother to his children. For over a decade, your union had weathered storms that would have destroyed others. Now, pregnant with your fourth child, you carried the latest testament to the strength of your bond. But this time, the storm came not from without, but from the very heart of the Red Keep.

The morning had been peaceful, the sun streaming through the windows of your chambers. You reclined on a cushioned chaise, a hand resting on the swell of your belly as you read. The warmth of the fire lulled you into a sense of calm until hurried footsteps interrupted the tranquility. A servant entered, pale and trembling.

“My lady,” the servant began, their voice unsteady, “the Queen requests your presence in the throne room.”

You frowned, sitting up straighter. “In my condition?” you asked, your hand instinctively cradling your belly.

The servant hesitated. “Her Grace insisted, my lady. She wishes to… address you before the court.”

You understood immediately. This was no simple summons; it was a calculated move. A veiled insult. Alicent had always sought ways to assert her power, to remind others that she ruled beside the King. Now, she sought to humiliate you in front of the court as she had done to Rhaenyra years before.

“Fetch my husband,” you said firmly, closing your book. “I will not attend alone.”

Moments later, Daemon entered, his steps deliberate, his expression dark. The servant recounted the Queen’s summons, and as they spoke, you could see the fury building in your husband’s eyes. His jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides.

“She dares to summon you like this?” Daemon growled. “In your condition?”

“She wishes to make a spectacle,” you replied calmly, though your pulse quickened. “To remind me—and the court—that she is queen.”

A dangerous smile spread across Daemon’s lips, one that never reached his eyes. “Then she will be reminded why I am her greatest threat.”

He helped you to your feet, his hand gentle but unyielding as he guided you. “You will not walk into her trap alone,” he promised. “And if she dares to humiliate you, I will tear her games apart.”

The throne room was filled when you arrived, the weight of countless eyes pressing down on you. But you held your head high, refusing to show any weakness. You were a dragon, and no Hightower would ever make you cower. Your hand rested lightly on Daemon’s arm as he led you into the hall, his presence a shield against the sea of whispers.

Queen Alicent stood near the Iron Throne, draped in green silk that shimmered in the torchlight. Her smile was thin, her eyes sharp as they fixed on you. King Viserys sat upon the throne, his frame frail, his face lined with illness. He looked troubled, his gaze flickering between you and Alicent.

“My lady,” Alicent greeted, her tone sweet but laced with malice. “It is so good of you to join us. I hope the walk was not too taxing in your… delicate state.”

You met her gaze evenly, refusing to rise to the bait. “I am quite capable, Your Grace. Though I admit I was surprised by your summons.”

“It is important for the realm to see the strength of its women,” Alicent said, her voice carrying through the hall. “Just as Princess Rhaenyra demonstrated after the birth of her sons.”

The implication was clear. Alicent wanted you to endure the same humiliation Rhaenyra had suffered years ago, parading yourself before the court mere days after childbirth. It was a calculated move to demean you and remind the court of her power.

Daemon’s low chuckle broke the tension, drawing every eye in the room. “You must be mistaken, Your Grace,” he said, his voice as sharp as Valyrian steel. “My wife is no servant to be paraded before the court like a curiosity.”

Alicent’s smile faltered, but she recovered quickly. “It is a gesture of unity,” she replied, though her tone tightened. “One that would surely be appreciated by the people.”

Daemon stepped forward, his presence consuming the room. “Unity?” he echoed, his voice mocking. “Unity is forged through respect, not humiliation. My wife carries a Targaryen heir. If you think I will allow her to be used as a pawn in your games, you are gravely mistaken.”

A murmur rippled through the court, courtiers exchanging wide-eyed glances as Alicent’s composure slipped. Her cheeks flushed with anger, and her voice rose. “You overstep, Prince Daemon. This is not your decision.”

Daemon’s laugh was cold, his violet eyes darkening with fury. “Everything concerning my wife and child is my decision. And you would do well to remember that.”

The tension in the room reached a breaking point until Viserys raised his hand, his voice weak but firm. “Enough,” he said, silencing the court. “This matter is settled. My daughter-in-law will not be subjected to such treatment.”

Alicent opened her mouth to argue, but Viserys’s glare stopped her. She curtsied stiffly, her expression tight with barely concealed anger. “Of course, Your Grace.”

As you left the throne room, Daemon’s hand remained on your back, his fury palpable. Only when you were alone in your chambers did he let his anger spill over.

“She will pay for this,” he said quietly, his voice cold and dangerous. “Alicent forgets that dragons do not bow.”

“She sought to humiliate me,” you said, placing a hand on his arm. “But she failed. Thanks to you.”

His expression softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he cupped your face in his hands. “I will not let anyone harm you,” he vowed fiercely. “Not her, not anyone. You are my wife, my queen, and the mother of my children. Let her play her games—I will burn her ambitions to ash if she dares threaten you again.”

You leaned into his touch, your heart swelling with gratitude and love. “We are stronger together,” you said softly. “Let her see that she cannot break us.”

Daemon kissed your forehead, his lips lingering as if to seal his promise. “Together,” he agreed, his voice low and certain. “Always.”

Word of the exchange spread quickly, the whispers echoing through the Red Keep. Alicent’s attempt to assert her dominance had backfired, and even her closest allies began to waver. The queen had sought to humiliate you but instead found herself exposed as desperate and grasping.

Within your chambers, there was peace. Daemon remained vigilant, his protectiveness extending to you and your children. The tension of the court lingered, but in his arms, you felt safe—untouchable. Alicent had underestimated the fire that burned within you and the bond you shared with your husband.

You were a dragon, and dragons did not kneel. Together, you and Daemon would ensure the world remembered that truth.

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[avelanlorelay]

I don't think we talk about it enough, but Cardan is simply the world's last romantic. Think about it, when most fae have an open relationship (even Taryn, who is considered the romantic character, didn't have a monogamous marriage) he ended his relationship with Nicasia when he discovered her betrayal. He never had anything more to do with her either. Even if it was just for sex, there was no love anymore. Even when Jude tells him to seduce Nicasia, Cardan doesn't go any further than a few kisses. Also because, for me it's canon, he was thinking about another girl.

The breach of trust was the main factor, of course, but I believe Cardan wanted to be the only one for her. In his novel, it is said that Cardan is a little afraid of Balekin wanting to get close to Nicasia, but she reassures him that she has no interest in another man - Locke not included, apparently. He's never been special to anyone, so having someone's heart all to himself was all he wanted.

In The Wicked King (after the kissing scene), Cardan goes to Jude to talk about that night. They didn't even get to "finally", but he was already completely in love and I'm sure that if Jude hadn't dismissed him, he would have talked about feelings and tried to formalize their relationship. Also, despite the fact that, using Jude's words, he was always "practically draped in courtiers", Cardan didn't try to pressure her. Although he desired Jude, it was never just about sex for him.

Now in The Queen of Nothing, even though they're married, Cardan never tries anything with Jude and when he does, he waits patiently for a signal and even when he gets one, he's totally cautious, pulling away at the slightest sign of Jude's discomfort. He still thinks she might change her mind. We only see Jude's pov, but it's evident from Cardan's nervousness that even though he's so experienced in the "art of love", he wanted their first time to be special, because Jude was special. The detail that they only have sex after the wedding is also so cute, not in a puritanical, annoying way, but as if they were both waiting for an important moment. When they finally trusted each other enough to give themselves completely.

Please, Cardan likes books, flowers, sleeping cuddled up with Jude and caress her with his tail. For me, he will always be the most sensitive, romantic and faithful husband of all time.