#they bonded when he was still in the cradle. when she hatched. she's all he's known and she leaves ? a gaping hole

[lcerys]

also ― since i was talking about his survival verse, while by the end of the dance (spoilers for the book f&b btw. i regularly talk about the book and it's in my rules, but still -) there are mentions of eggs hatching to make attempts to claim a second dragon so it's left implied that it could be attempted (although it's never confirmed as no more eggs hatch and there are very few dragons left alive), i genuinely cannot imagine luke either wanting or trying to claim another after a.rrax's death. his thought process is very much : he had a dragon and he got her killed, if it's an au where he's alive and she's not. he has ? absolutely no desire to bond with another dragon and no intention of getting yet another dragon killed because he knows that if he were to succeed ( which also: he thinks the odds are low enough he doesn't particularly want to try ), it'd be for the war so... he straight up doesn't want to.

[bumblesimagines]

Burning Love

Request: Yes or No

Summary: As the eldest son and heir to the Iron Throne, Prince (Y/N) Targaryen has many responsibilities; most of which his darling sister hopes to share with him one day.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Targcest/Incest (Full-blooded Brother-Sister), Aemma lives!! and Alicent is not a childbride, mentions of stillbirths and miscarriages (Aemma's pregnancies)

Collecting HOTD oneshots like pokemon cards at this point

~~~

It was known that Targaryens had... questionable traditions. Traditions those with outsider perspective could only force themself to understand.

There was the act of putting a dragon egg in the cradle of a babe and hoping the egg would hatch sometime soon after to ensure the babe was bonded to a loyal protector they'd grow up alongside of; a tradition started by Rhaena Targaryen, eldest daughter of King Aenys I and Queen Alyssa Velaryon. Targaryens were Dragonriders, bonded with the very beasts they used to conquer the lands and pull them all into one kingdom (with the exception of Dorne, of course). They cremated their dead, a custom from Old Valyria, often with the help of a dragon belonging to their closest kin. 

And of course, the most infamous and often looked down upon custom, wedding kin to kin. Another custom from Old Valyria that many followers of the Seven turned their cheek upon, for they found the act of wedding siblings to siblings and so forth (apart from cousin to cousin) a sin. Faithful followers could voice their complaints as much as they wished, but Targaryens were kings, queens, princes, and princesses. Nobody could or would stop them from keeping their bloodline pure if they so wished. 

Descending from a long, historic, and proud family, Rhaenyra grew up listening and learning the tales of those who'd come before her. Aegon the Conquer and his faithful sister-wives, Rhaenys and Visenya; the many rebellions and fighting brought on during the lives of King Aenys I and King Maegor the Cruel; The Old King Jaehaerys who'd chosen her father, Viserys, as heir over his own late heir's daughter, Rhaenys; and of course, the histories written during the early stages of her father's reign. 

Her beloved older brother had been two when King Jaehaerys named their father heir and three when their father ascended the throne whilst their beautiful mother, Aemma Arryn, carried her in the womb. The fourth person to ever hold little Rhaenyra in their arms had been her brother, closely supervised by their parents and the maester attending the birth, of course. With a healthy son and daughter, Viserys and Aemma hardly needed for more children, but they tried anyway. Their attempts never carried to term, however, and any little ones that did were either stillborn or died mere hours or days after birth. 

Still, Rhaenyra never needed for any more siblings. Her brother was enough, in her humble opinion. He cared for her diligently, especially during their younger years when he eagerly wished to play with her, even if it meant the two of them being gently scolded at the end of the day for dirting Rhaenyra's dresses with mud and dirt. (Y/N) treated her as his equal, even showing her how to use a wooden sword when he began his training and helping prepare her for dragon-riding on Syrax. His own mount hardly needed much training in the Dragonpit, for the mighty Vermithor's first rider had been the Old King.

As time passed, the siblings were forced apart more often than Rhaenyra enjoyed. She'd made up her mind long ago that she and (Y/N) would one day be wed, and she'd be his formidable sister-wife. Their parents merely chuckled about it when she'd first told them at the age of seven, her squeaky voice and flushed cheeks only drawing cooing from Aemma and sweet smiles from Viserys. The absence of her brother had been stark, his time taken up by training, studying, and spending time with the Small Council, but Alicent Hightower had quickly taken his spot as Rhaenyra's companion. 

However, in due time, (Y/N) became man-grown, and while Rhaenyra quickly followed with her flowering, as heir and prince, (Y/N) became the most eligible bachelor in all of Westeros. It took time for it to become apparent to Rhaenyra but her eyes and ears opened when she heard their parents speaking of it. Many families, highborn and lowborn, offered their daughters through letters or visits to Kings Landing. Lannisters, Baratheons, Starks, Brackens, Blackwoods, Tullys, and plenty more came forth. Even Otto Hightower made a passing comment about wedding Alicent to him. It was infuriating.

"In truth, I do not understand your irritation, Rhaenyra," Alicent spoke gently, her slender fingers working on embroidery. A flower she'd seen in the gardens, or something along those lines. Rhaenyra hadn't truly been paying attention to her dear friend. She'd been too focused on silently fuming at the sight of her brother showing one of the highborn ladies around the Red Keep. Every giggle, every blush, every bat of her eyelashes made Rhaenyra tick. "It's wonderful to watch one's brother fall in love."

"You wouldn't understand, Alicent." Rhaenyra sighed. "It is like the love King Jaeherys and the Good Queen Alysanne had."

Alicent faltered at her words, her head lifting to eye her friend with a small grimace. "You do remember our lessons, correct? King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne had to wed in secret, for they knew that not even their mother approved in fear of another uprising from the Faith. Nobody has made a fuss over your parents since they are cousins, but who knows what may happen if you wed (Y/N)."

"(Y/N) is everything King Jaehaerys was, Alicent. He is beloved by the Realm." Rhaenyra reminded her friend with a small smile, pushing herself off the cushioned seats and smoothing her hands over the front of her dress. Her earrings swung slightly when she tilted her head slightly to the side, the ends of them brushing against her shoulders. Her eyes tracked (Y/N) as he lifted the lady's hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles before departing. "He will be a good king, and if I could prove it, I would be a good queen. His queen." Her feet began moving automatically. 

"Rhaenyra," The name tumbled out of Alicent's mouth, her hands fumbling with the items in hand. "Where are you going?"

Bunching up the skirt of her dress in her hands, Rhaenyra grinned over her shoulder and chuckled at the concerned look on Alicent's features that only grew at the sight of her mischievous glint. "To speak with my brother!" 

With a goal in mind, Rhaenyra entered the castle and followed the distant figure of her brother as he cut down hallways with long strides until he reached his bedchambers. Rhaenyra took a moment to herself to catch her breath and rake her fingers through her long silver locks before she approached the doors and nodded for the guards to open them. She stepped inside, a smile appearing across her lips when (Y/N) turned to look at her. 

"My favorite sister," (Y/N) cooed, taking a seat at his desk and unrolling a letter. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes in return, clasping her hands together behind her back and taking small steps toward him. He skimmed the contents of the letter, his face giving away nothing of what it spoke of. "Is there something you require, Nyra, or are you suffering from boredom? I have plenty of lords and ladies who'd be happy to keep you busy." 

Rhaenyra scoffed quietly and (Y/N) gave a small grin. "I hear Father is urging you to find a wife."

"The Small Council is urging him to urge me, more like. They believe it is time to begin having children. Seeing as Father and Mother had great difficulty, they wish for me to have an heir by the time I ascend the throne to ensure there won't be issues later on." (Y/N) explained, coiling the letter back up and pulling out a blank paper. He dipped his quill in ink and began writing. "Otto has been... more friendly as of recently. He speaks incredibly highly of Lady Alicent." 

"You'd tell me if you were interested in someone, wouldn't you?" Rhaenyra reached over the desk to pluck the quill from his fingers, setting it aside and raising her brows at him. (Y/N) slumped back in his seat and laced his fingers over his midsection, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes. Rhaenyra rounded the table and without thinking twice, she plopped down on his thigh. 

"Nyra,"

"You know as well as I do who you should wed, (Y/N). I know what a good queen should be, and I do not care about status or riches like the families of those ladies do. We have the blood of the dragon in our veins. Nobody would truly understand us." Rhaenyra spoke softly, her bottom lip slightly jutting out as she placed her palm over his cheek. His own hands unlaced, one moving to press against her back. 

"The Small Council-"

"Fuck the Small Council." Rhaenyra huffed, earning a quiet chuckle from her brother. "You are the prince, the heir. Whatever it is you choose, they must deal with it. It is their job to counsel, to offer their advice and opinions, not to dictate what you do. We could mount Syrax and Vermithor and fly elsewhere to wed in the customs of Old Valyria." 

A gentle sigh escaped (Y/N), and he leaned forward to press a delicate kiss to Rhaenyra's shoulder. The princess relaxed at the action, her hand moving past his cheek to the back of his head. (Y/N)'s lips curled up. "You are insufferable." He told her with a gentle laugh before leaning in to press their mouths together. He drew back too quickly for Rhaenyra's liking. "But a good ruler is a patient one, Nyra. If you wish for us to wed, or to lay together-" He brushed their lips together teasingly. "-you must wait. Father and Mother will be easy to convince." 

"Does it matter if we wait?" Rhaenyra tilted her head and batted her lashes coyly, the feigned innocence prompting (Y/N) to roll his eyes. She rose from his lap and dropped her hands to his, tugging on them until he stood up from the chair. She smiled widely, devilishly even, and slung her arms around his shoulders. "We will be wed, regardless. It will not matter." 

"I have things I must do, Nyra." (Y/N) gave a heavy sigh and shrugged his shoulders, his hands coming to rest on her waist. "As I said, you must be patient. If you wish to speed things along, you should speak with Mother. She'll always be the key to winning Father over." He told her and planted a kiss on her temple before settling back down on the chair. 

"Will we be like that someday?" Rhaenyra asked softly, stepping out of the way so he could resume his letter. She toyed with the rings along her fingers, the thought of becoming one of those couples who genuinely cared for each other bringing a smile to herself. It was a desire all ladies had. While sons could marry whichever woman of age they desired, ladies had to hope the husbands their fathers or elder brothers chose were good men. She'd seen far too many times the faces of girls her age married and chained to men old enough to be their grandfathers. 

(Y/N) paused his writing and lifted his head to look at her, offering a reassuring smile. "Someday." He nodded. 

"I look forward to it, then."

[gremlingottoosilly]

Do you think reader will feel any affection for monster!König's offspring once the eggs hatch? How surprised do you think König would be if she's impatient to do it again?

I can imagine bonding with eggs, despite the children being monsters and mostly just Konig copies, you still were raising them inside of your tummy for long months, it's hard to just let them go(( instincts kicking in and you're cradling little hybrids as they munch on your hands and try to scram into the nearest body of water. Konig don't understand, that monsters don't have this level of love towards their children -- at least, not Konig's breed. he wants your attention, he needs his incubator to be happy and fat with his new batch of eggs, not crying because he sent all of your babies away to be soldiers((( if you're crying hard and long enough, so it actually makes your health worse, Konig MIGHT, just barely might allow you to take one egg to raise it yourself. He will call on the human doctor - just as much of a pet as you are, since humans don't really have rights in new society - so you will be observed and treated with care. Doctor helps you a bit, mostly talking to Konig about keeping some eggs if only for the sake of your mental health - now you have an energetic little hybrid running around and destroying everything. They're not like normal babies, they're too independent from the start, and Konig only laughs when you're whining about it, this is what you wanted, remember?

[tenseoyong]

Aemond loves his little family.

He keeps a watchful eye over his children, making the royal guards seem redundant. Aemond often recalls the ridicule and embarrassment he’d faced as a child—and the resulting accident—and makes it a personal matter to maintain a keen eye over how the children behave towards each other, or how other children in the keep interact with his family.

Rarely does he let his half-sister and his nephews interact with his happy little family.

The Prince is unusually involved in his children’s lives for someone of his station—the responsibility typically laying with that of wet nurses and his lady-wife’s handmaidens—yet Aemond does it anyways.

He personally oversees their studies, and has taken the task upon himself of teaching his children High Valyrian—carefully correcting mispronunciations and gently calming them when their frustrations grow.

Aemond refused to be to his children what his own father was to him—neglectful and uninterested or show obvious favoritism for one over the masses—Aemond made sure all his children felt equally as loved and cherished, in their own ways of course.

His eldest son—Vaemon—was very much the warrior every royal family hoped the first born male would be. Aemond had a little wooden sword crafted and in the small boy’s hand before the child could fully walk.Aemond was often spotted training with the young lad, teaching his heir proper techniques and how to find and use one’s advantages.

A few years behind his first born, came Vaenya. Undoubtedly his scholar in the making. The young girl would rarely be found without a book in her grasp; Aemond would gift her with every newly published book he could get his hands on, though, she greatly favorite those of the world’s history—much like her father—and Aemond would enjoy quiet evenings spent by candlelight, the two of them pouring over ancient texts. Often, Aemond would teasingly correct her posture, “Slouching is unbecoming of a Princess~”

His darling Haelera, who—affectionately named after his sweet sister—had somehow managed to gather the same odd fascination with all things creepy-crawly, still felt her father’s warm love. Though, you could say she was a lover of animals in general, it was much easier to come across bugs of various types than an odd dog or cat in the Red Keep. Aemond listening intently to every little insect fact his darling daughter brought to his attention, and would often return from his Princely duties with a jar containing a random bug much to Haelera’s delight.

And Little Raenar could just barely toddle after his older brother and his father, yet Aemond was insistent on bringing the infant as he and Vaemon trained. Aemond supposed the young babe simply liked the sounds of metal—if the light on his face and the happy giggles that floated through the training yard each time Aemond blocked one of Vaemon’s attacks were anything to go by—but the babe seemed to enjoy the activity, or his brother and sire’s company either way, and Aemond was content with including him even if his little mind wasn’t entirely sure what was happening.

Aemond personally picks each and every dragon egg that would be placed in his children’s cradles. And while, thankfully all eggs did hatch, Aemond did harbor a bit of fear that one of his children would be left to suffer a fate similar to his as a dragonless Targaryen—and vowed he’d not have them ridiculed as he once was, that he’d comfort and adore them regardless.

He relishes in teaching his children to be dragon riders. To see the ease and joy on their faces after a their first ride, to see they have what should have been his—gaining a dragon-bond at birth, and not having to lose a part of themselves in order to gain something by sheer determination—Aemond delights in taking his little clan on family rides.

Aemond would not see his little family crumble and become scattered in the winds as his extended family had been in his youth. He insists upon the family being together during every meal, not that you’d ever begin to think of denying him that—the family being as tight knit as it was—Aemond enjoyed hearing about each member of his family’s daily activities and growing interests.

He would never be more grateful to anyone more than he was to his Lady-Wife for giving him something he’d never truly had before—the gift of family—darling children that loved each other as much as their father loved them.

Aemond Targaryen loves his little family.

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[neptuneiris]

for the crown (01/02)

what is more important in prince aemond targaryen life, the crown or you?

pairing: prince!aemond × lowborn!reader

summary: you gave yourself to him, you love him, he said that despite your low status at court, he will still marry you, because you are his, the woman who was his friend since childhood, until the war comes.

next part • series masterlist

here with another story my beautiful people, where I have more warnings for you regarding this story hehe🤭 here aemond is mean and reader is very naive. this is not a story with happy moments and a happy ending, be warned.

this is something I came up with because I apparently love writing angst so much, so here it is, enjoy!

warnings: sex content, angst, denigration, abusive behavior, possessiveness.

It all started as a children.

Him being a lonely child and judged for not owning a dragon as all Targaryen are accustomed to from birth by having a dragon egg placed next to them in the cradle so that eventually the egg will hatch and a dragon will be born.

And you being a child learning from an early age to become a woman and attend to the duties for your future husband.

Your mother died of a serious illness, your two older sisters eventually married men from the Vale and in the end your father, despite his house coming from a low status, got a place on the King's Small Council in King's Landing.

Having no one to take care of you, and seeing this as an opportunity to find you a future husband with more benefits and definitely more convincing, he decided to bring you with him and introduce you to the sons of noble men.

You remember since you were ten and twelve that even men who could be your father or even your grandsire, asked for your hand. But your father always politely turned them down.

You were not ready yet, you were still attending your lessons with the Septa and your father asked Queen Alicent if she could give him the opportunity to have his youngest daughter join as a lady-in-waiting for her daughter, Princess Helaena.

The Queen fortunately accepts and you soon find yourself making friends with Princess Helaena.

Although Helaena didn't really show any interest in you, she was still grateful to have some company. But in the end, no strong bonding happened between the two of you because the princess preferred to whisper to herself and get lost on her own thoughts.

When you were ten and three years of age, one night on your way to your chamber after attending your lessons with your Septa, you turned down one of the hallways and bumped into someone else and saw that it was Prince Aemond.

You could tell, not everyone had the silver hair characteristic of the Targaryen nor did anyone else have that eye patch.

You instantly apologized, when in the middle of your apology, he lowered his gaze and avoided looking you in the eye at all times, you instantly realized that something was wrong as you noticed his eye was red, swollen and watery.

"Are you all right, my prince?"

You had asked him politely and willing to help, but he wouldn't let you.

"If you will excuse me," he says to you in a low, serious tone without much emotion to step around you and continue on his way, leaving you behind.

You watch him walk away, noticing his wrinkled clothes and also the cloak on his shoulders, as if he had wanted to go undercover a few moments before. You don't know what happens to you that night, but the prince catches your attention, curiosity invading you.

You have never exchanged words with him before, nor with Prince Aegon, the future husband of Princess Helaena, of whom your father has warned you to be very careful if you meet him.

But your father has told you nothing of Prince Aemond.

You know a little of his history, such as that he lost his eye at the age of ten and eleven and that he claimed the largest dragon in the world on the exact same day he lost his eye.

You also hear around the Court how the prince at his young age is becoming an excellent knight and an impressive swordman. That is all you know.

But you wonder at that moment what has happened to the prince to make him cry. That night you can't really know anything and you resume your way to your chamber.

It is not three days later that you decide to flee your responsibilities even for a day and you take refuge in the library of the Keep, quickly entering the place to avoid being caught by your father, his guards or even your Septa.

When your movements draw the attention of someone already in the library.

A seated figure also instantly catches your attention and you are surprised to see that it is Prince Aemond, who is clearly watching you intently for interrupting his reading.

His presence makes you nervous but you quickly remember your manners and how you should behave before royalty.

"Prince Aemond," you bow your head to him, "Forgive me for interrupting you, my prince."

The prince immediately recognizes you, that girl who saw him crying after that horrible night that he still can't stop thinking about.

"Are you running away from someone?" he asks you attentively and curiously.

You lower your gaze, beginning to twist your fingers on your hands, nervous.

"No, not truly, my prince," you observe him, "I just wanted to let my lessons pass for a day, nothing more."

The prince continues to watch you attentively and curiously for a few moments without saying anything, while you don't know what to do, whether to stay or leave for having interrupted him.

Although the library is public and not reserved only for the royal family, you still decide to leave since you don't want to disturb him.

"I won't interrupt you anymore and let you continue to enjoy your time, my prince," you give him a small smile despite still feeling nervous and turn to leave the way you came.

Aemond lets out a long breath and doesn't think long to call out to you and stop you.

"Wait," he says and you stop before touching the doorknob.

Again nerves overtake you but curious, you slowly turn to him and show yourself at his disposal, where the prince now shows a more relaxed posture but continues to be attentive on you.

"Enjoy the reading, my lady?"

His question takes you by surprise, since women are not supposed to waste time on things that are not related to learning how to be a good wife in the future and how to please their husbands.

And along with that come everything that is expected of them after marriage, as loyalty, devotion and the heirs they are supposed to give birth to.

And yet with all this, in your four walls, where no one sees you and where no one can tell you what to do and what not, you secretly enjoy reading. But before you can answer the prince, he points to the book in your hands.

"You know the history of my family?"

"Not much, to be honest with you, my prince," you confess.

"And what do you read?" he asks you attentively.

"I enjoy reading a lot of everything, my prince. But lately I have been reading the stories of the First Men."

The prince continues to watch you intently, thinking about your words, then lets out a "hmm" and makes himself more comfortable in his chair, reopening the page of his book in his hands to resume his reading.

"Come. You can hide from your responsibilities here."

And from that moment, your friendship with Prince Aemond began.

Both he and you could not always avoid your responsibilities, but on the days that you did or in the small moments of the day, you both found each other and spent time together, whether it was in the library or in the gardens taking a walk.

Just as Prince Aemond expected, you learned more about the histories of his house and he learned a little more of yours, though there truly isn't much to learn coming from a small house that the truth is almost irrelevant.

You never left Helaena's side, but you began to accept that you enjoyed spending more time with Prince Aemond as you shared a taste for literature, so you distributed your time well to spend time with both of them.

As the years passed, the prince began to demand that you privately call him Aemond, as you began to be present at his training, watching as he gradually became a truly feared knight with impressive brutal skills.

Trust began to grow, so you dared to ask him to tell you about how he claimed the largest dragon in the whole world and he did, feeling proud of his story even though he lost his eye that very night.

The trust was there but he still wouldn't open up to you about how he lost his eye and you didn't bring up the subject either.

You were curious about it but you didn't want to make him upset by asking him something so personal, thinking that Aemond himself would talk to you about it when he felt ready and confident.

The friendship between the two of you did not go unnoticed by your father and Queen Alicent, nor by Otto Hightower, who were disinterested in the matter, knowing very well that Aemond could never marry you, a lady of such low status.

Prince Aemond is only a few moons older than you, so by the time he is ten and seven years of age, he begins to feel the pressure of his mother and grandsire to take a wife and fulfill his duty as prince of the Realm.

And that duty is to form alliances so that when the time comes and his father dies, they can put Aegon on the Throne since that is the right thing to do instead of his half-sister succeeding the Throne, after her succeeding his bastard nephews.

But for Aemond it is a constant war he has in mind. He doesn't want his half-sister, a woman, to succeed the Throne so that his bastards do as well, but he also knows that Aegon is not fit for the Throne.

But he is.

And he resents more the fact that his grandsire sees more for Aegon than he does for him, he who is more fit than Aegon to rule but no one sees that, not even his mother, supporting her first son more and seeing her second as support of the first to further secure his Throne.

And he hates that, hates it very much.

But when his grandsire starts putting on the table the ladys he could marry, all Lannister, Tyrell and Baratheon, Aemond hates it even more.

"I do not wish to marry yet," he tells him serious and disinterested.

"It is not a matter of whether you wish it or not, Aemond. You must do it because this is your duty to secure Aegon's throne," his grandsire reproaches him.

"And Aegon is fit to rule?" he inquires expectantly.

Otto lets out a long sigh.

"He is the king's first born son and that is all that matters," tells him annoyed, "Or is it that you wish Rhaenyra to sit on the Throne instead of him? So that later her bastard son sits next and Gods knows if the boy who took your eye sits as well?"

Aemond didn't know it at the time, but his grandsire's words were beginning to make him think eventually, and began to let himself be carried away by it.

But not only that, Aemond began to have a strong temper and to feel a pressure that made people fear him even more. You never feared him when you heard the rumors about his missing eye, let alone as the two of you began to grow up together.

But unfortunately, Aemond began to take his bad temper out on you.

You were walking through the hallways of the Keep, when a drunken Prince Aegon intercepted you and touched you to take you by force in a dark and lonely hallway. Fortunately you immediately reacted and hit him in the crook of his leg with your knee, quickly running away from him, crying.

You didn't want to cause a scene with the Queen nor was it a good idea to tell your father, who would probably go mad with the thought that his daughter could have been ruined when her maidenhead is the most indispensable thing to be able to marry you off.

So you seek comfort and help from your most trusted person in your entire life, Aemond.

As you enter his chamber, you know it's a bad idea since you can't be here, but your sobs and your body trembling with fear make you take courage and seek reassurance from your dearest friend.

But sadly Aemond didn't feel the same way.

When you explain to him what happened, Aemond watches you almost disinterested, still listening to you attentively.

"H-he touched me but h-he didn't manage to do anything," you tell him through your tears.

Aemond says nothing, rather he continues to watch you attentive and serious. And when he finally speaks, it was not what you expected him to say.

"Hmm."

That's all he says.

You watch him painfully, not understanding his behavior when your state is proof enough that you're not lying, but Aemond thinks further, not truly realizing it, having the meetings he's forced to attend with his grandsire more on his mind than what just happened to you.

"So what did you do or say to my brother to make him take such a liberty with you?"

You look at him confused, trembling and with tears falling down your cheeks.

"E-excuse me?"

"You provoked him, didn't you?"

"N-no, Aemond," you look at him hurt, "I-I would never—

"I would not be surprised."

He interrupts you serious and this makes you look at him confused and in despair.

"Coming from such a low house with your father extremely desperate to marry you off, an event like this would make my mother reward your father with a convenient husband," he tells you watching you badly, "But if you want so much to be taken as a common whore, try the Street of Silk. But don't involve my brother to affect my family and our image Y/N."

His words are like a dagger to your heart, while you look at him completely hurt and bewildered by his words, that being your sign that you are alone in this and Aemond does not support you as he considers them to be vile rumors against his brother.

Humiliated and crying now because of the insensitivity of the one who supposedly is your dearest friend, you run out of his chamber, not even having the strength to look him in the eye because of his cruel words.

At this Aemond does not even flinch when you run out of his chamber and continues with his duties, unbothered.

It is not two days later that Aemond comes to his senses that he himself looks for you after you spend most of your time avoiding him as much as possible.

His words has deeply hurt you and are constantly repeating in your mind, feeling a sharp pain in your chest. And when he finally finds you, he apologizes for his behavior.

You thought you couldn't forgive him for what he said and how he made you feel, but inevitably you melt at his touch as he leaves a soft kiss on the back of your hand and hugs you to comfort you as he should have done at the beginning.

Aemond then goes to look for his brother, where he finds him in his bed with a Silk Street whore and all of him and his chamber stinking of wine.

Abruptly he pulls the sheets off him and he along with the woman wake up startled, but before Aegon can react, Aemond grabs him tightly by the collar and pulls him dangerously close to him watching him with the most menacing and deadly gaze.

"Try to touch Y/N again and I swear I'll cut off both of your hands myself, you fucking cunt."

Aegon does not understand anything, beginning to feel discomfort, but before he can say anything, Aemond releases him abruptly against the bed, to finally leave the chamber.

The weeks pass quickly and you turn seven and ten years of age, not being something that truly catches the attention of all the people in the Court, but for your father and Princess Helaena, yes.

The princess presents you with a pair of beautiful gold earrings and eventually Aemond also has something for you but he wait until the two of you are alone.

He enters your chamber and presents you with a beautiful silver necklace with a drop-shaped gem of an ocean blue sapphire, also a beautiful dress of the same color, letting you know that this is his favorite color.

That night, almost at the end of the night of your name day, Aemond is the one who claims your first kiss and also claims your maidenhead.

That same night you realized that you have always loved him, basically since you were children, since you started spending time together, getting to know each other and sharing the same tastes.

Besides, how could Aemond not be to your liking?

Prince or not, he is absolutely handsome, paying no attention to rumors, if he doesn't have an eye or that he is extremely brutal in combat, it doesn't matter to you, you don't care about anything but you and him and that's why you give yourself completely to him.

A forbidden action and that you should not have done, since your maidenhead is important to be able to get married, but you think that if you marry a man you do not love, why not give yourself to someone you truly do love?

You didn't care that this would bring serious consequences for you, that if your father found out, everything would probably fall apart.

You didn't care at least that night when you were in Aemond's arms and felt his caresses all over your body. He made you feel completely desired and made you experience in the act of lovemaking things you couldn't even imagine, wanting more from him in the moment.

"You're mine, aren't you?"

He murmurs huskily against your lips, as he enters you again with a firm, hard movement that makes you see stars and makes you cling completely to him, moaning.

"Yes, Aemond," you sigh, "I am yours. Completely yours."

"You will never leave my side, not when I have already claimed you, do you understand?"

"Yes."

You sigh again, dropping your head back, moaning.

"Say it," he demands, starting again with his back and forth, more steady and harder, "Say you understand."

"I understand," you say as best you can as you are being completely carried away by the pleasure.

Aemond smirks and begins to thrust in and out of you faster and harder, as you moan and try to be no too loud, as he brings his lips to your neck and begins to mark your skin, area by area.

Then he bites and sucks on your breasts, while you place your arms around his shoulders and pull him further into you, avoiding screaming loudly from all the pleasure, biting his shoulder, being more motivation for Aemond as he continues to fuck you hard.

That night he spills all his seed inside you with a grunt, filling you completely, as he wipes the tears from your eyes from the overstimulation and how he brought you to the peak several times.

You watch him with complete adoration, just as satisfied as he is, but terrified of what just happened.

"If the Queen finds out…" you tell him fearfully, "If my father finds out—

"Don't worry about that, my love," he murmurs to you, beginning to gently pull out of you, "You're never going to leave my side, remember?"

"But…

"No one's going to find out."

And you believe him, you truly do. And fortunately his word is kept.

The next morning no one notices the night you shared with the prince, not your maids by acting careful and certainly not your father by sharing breakfast with him.

You cover Aemond's marks on your body with dresses a little more covered in the collarbone area, hoping they will disappear soon and looking forward to sharing more nights with him despite being very risky.

And that same day in the library you meet Aemond, he makes you drink moon tea, telling you that this will be indispensable every time you both share a bed, as he doesn't want to sire any bastards and you certainly don't want that to happen either.

And the nights with your prince are a little more constant, with no one knowing about that little secret you share in the darkness of your chamber to the fortune of both of you.

And as a result of Aemond claiming your body, his behavior towards you becomes more… possessive.

On the name day of little Prince Jaehaerys and little Princess Jaehaera Targaryen, Queen Alicent prepares a grand feast in honor of the twins where the entire Court attends and other members of important houses in Westeros.

Your father sees this as a great opportunity for you to finally meet the sons of the nobles and asks you to wear your best dress and exaggerate your beauty to attract the attention of some of them.

And you do so even though you don't want to.

Once at the feast, you find Aemond at the table that belongs to all the royal family, while you share tables with all the other nobles. He also finds you among all the people and that is all that happens between you.

Immediately your father introduces you to the sons of the nobles and when the dance begins, you can't refuse their offers and very soon you find yourself dancing with some of them.

All the time you feel a piercing, burning gaze in which you don't need to try to figure out who it is, you know it's him. But you can't be rude to all those men, just like him, you must also do your duty and you don't want to make your father angry.

But you wouldn't have to do this if he asked for your hand.

You don't understand what keeps stopping Aemond from asking your father for his blessing, but for now, you must do this.

When on one of your trips for some fresh air and to stop feeling overwhelmed, wanting to calm your pressure with all those sons of nobles, suddenly a hand grabs your waist and another on your neck to slam you hard against one of the walls of the balcony, leaving you motionless.

You open your frightened eyes wide, about to scream but the hand on your waist goes up to silence your mouth, while you watch in surprise, in terror and without understanding at Aemond with a deadly and more than furious gaze towards you.

When he brings his lips to your ear.

"Next time I see you acting like I'm not in the same place as you and enjoying the company of other men right to my fucking face, I'm not going to be gentle with you Y/N, at all," he warns you, "Don't forget your place and who you belong to, or else I'm going to have to start beheading heads and your father's will be the first."

And without another word, Aemond releases you without tact and walks away leaving you behind, not even flinching at his behavior, while you watch him completely shocked and in horror, tears starting to want to spill out of your eyes.

After that night, your father begins to arrange an betrothal between you and a man from Highgarden, but you, thinking correctly, refuse the request for your hand and that of several other nobles.

Your father was furious, but you didn't care much, only thinking of Aemond, who again came in search of you after a few days, asking your forgiveness for his behavior.

"You must not make me angry again, Y/N. It wasn't smart at all what you did that night and you won't do it again, will you?"

You just nodded and again he claimed your body, as he is wont to do almost every night, claiming everything from you, because you are his, completely.

Again the years pass without any change and now both ten and nine years of age, all over the Court it is rumored that Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon are returning to the capital along with all their children to attend to the matter of a succession.

Immediately this causes Aemond to have an almost insufferable humor and behavior, especially with you.

But at the end of the day he comes back to you and apologizes even though you don't understand what it is that bothers him so much.

You don't ask him anything about his half-sister, and when the day comes and you don't meet Aemond anymore because he has to attend to all that matter, you wait for him to come back to you, not truly wanting to disturb him.

It's not until one night when you find yourself heading to your chamber after spending some time in the library that you accidentally overhear the conversation of some maids down the hallway, unnoticed by them.

"That was an intense fight."

"Yes."

"I don't think things between the princess and the Queen will mend after this."

"They never will," one of them says in a whisper, "Peace between the two families was never meant to happen after Prince Lucerys was the responsible for taking Prince Aemond's eye."

"And now the fight between Prince Aemond with Prince Jacaerys has made everything more difficult."

Such words leave you completely paralyzed and breathless, listening to it all with your lips parted and your eyes wide open, unable to believe what you are hearing.

Aemond has never told you about what happened that night, but you never ever imagined that his own nephew was responsible for that horrible event that marked his life forever, now also finding out that there was a fight now with prince Jacaerys.

And that is why you decide to go to him, instantly worrying and wanting to know if he is well and if you can help him in whatever he needs.

You make sure there are no important people in sight and after that, you make sure the guards don't see you and you quickly and carefully enter his chamber, where you see Aemond sitting near his fireplace with a tense posture and his back to you.

"Aemond?" you call softly to him, slowly approaching towards him, but he does not move an inch, "Are you alright?"

Instantly you reprimand yourself, since of course he's not alright.

With what you heard, you now understand his behavior since it was announced that his sister would be returning to King's Landing with her entire family, including the boy who took his eye.

You let out a long breath, observing him with some pity and understanding and then continue your slow walk towards him, observing him attentively.

"Do you need to talk?"

You watch as his hands make them into fists, continuing to watch the fire in the fireplace intently, his jaw clenched and his whole posture screaming danger.

"Get out," he orders you low and threatening.

But you don't want to leave him alone, you care about him.

"I just want to make sure you're all right," you insist softly, trying to convince him.

"I'm not going to repeat myself, Y/N."

You let out a long breath again, still not obeying his word.

"I know how you must be feeling," you tell him in understanding, finishing moving closer towards him, "But if you need to talk, I'm here to listen," you assure him, "I care about you and I just want….

Your words are suddenly interrupted violently when Aemond stands up in a quick movement that you don't have time to anticipate and surprisingly grabs your neck with one of his hands in a strong and brutal way to look at you more than angry and threatening.

All the fear consumes you and you watch him in horror, all your air in suspense, your eyes wide open and bringing your hands to his to try to free yourself with tears starting to run down your cheeks.

You try to speak to him, to tell him anything, desperately asking him to let you go, but Aemond continues to be blinded by his own madness and his own anger at what happened at that dinner.

You tap weakly at his chest, trying to breathe, but he won't let you, slowly making his grip tighter.

"I don't know where you heard it, but I don't need your pity nor do I need your sympathy."

He tells you serious and menacingly while you continue to try to free yourself from him

"I am the prince, the rider of the largest dragon in the world and the next time I order you to do something and you don't obey me… you're going to start learning the hard way and no one is going to save you, Y/N."

He squeezes your neck a little tighter, hard and watching you almost as if he dislikes you, while you can't take it anymore, not acknowledging him, basically not understanding anything.

When he finally lets go of you and you fall completely on the ground, gasping and catching your breath with tears streaming down your cheeks, feeling bad about yourself, feeling a sharp pain in your chest as you catch your breath and strength, watching him for a second completely scared.

Aemond doesn't dislike seeing you at his feet, but still the anger continues to consume him and he continues to stare at you as if you were nothing.

"'Get out. Now," he spits at you without any tact.

And you don't need him to repeat it one more time, you quickly get up and run away from him completely horrified, crying and feeling like a complete fool.

You want to tell yourself that it's all right, that he didn't mean it and will ask for your forgiveness, just this being another one of his bad days where he made the mistake of taking it out on you, as he always tells you.

But now… you expect nothing from him.

His action leaves you completely scared and terrified, not even wishing to see him nor wishing he would come to your chamber to ask for your forgiveness once he returns to himself.

This time it takes Aemond a full week until he does indeed search for you and finds you in your chamber, where taking your distance, with your face muffled and without much emotion, you greet him and continue with your embroidery, beginning to tremble slightly for fear that he will explode at you again.

This Aemond notices immediately and lets out a long breath, resignation overtaking him. Then he takes a step towards you and you stand very still, alert, not trusting and fearing for his next move.

Aemond at this stops and looks at the marks on your neck that are just beginning to fade, marks that you hid very well with your clothes, but considering that he has come in the middle of the night, you are wearing your night gown.

So he doesn't come any closer and instead extends one of his hands towards you, looking completely harmless and wanting to fix this, but you don't trust him at all yet.

"Come," he asks you kindly, waiting for you to take his hand.

You don't say anything to him, you continue to stare at his hand fearfully, trying to hide how terrified you feel, but you can't, considering you're both alone here and there's no one who can save you.

"I won't hurt you, I promise," he tells you again in a soft voice.

But you continue without moving and he doesn't press you, wanting to give you time until you feel comfortable and safe with him again.

Until eventually you too resign yourself, thinking that you must obey your prince's word and finally you take his hand, shaking but you do. Aemond immediately slowly begins to pull you closer to him, showing you that it's all right.

Until he finally has you in his arms and starts kissing your cheeks, comforting you, asking for forgiveness over and over again, caressing you, while you slowly start to let yourself be carried away by him.

You shouldn't, but you love him in spite of everything.

That night Aemond tells you everything, everything that happened that night after he claimed Vhagar and the years that followed after he lost his eye, everything he had to face and learn on his own at such a young age.

He tells you about his bastard nephews, about the danger Rhaenyra is to him and his family if she sits on the Throne and also what happened at that dinner that made him react in that brutal way against you, asking for your forgiveness over and over again.

Now you understand Aemond's side and let him once again take you, feeling just as wanted as ever, feeling how much Aemond needs you, just the same way you need him.

And that night, after he spills his seed inside you, you confess it to him, you tell him that you love him, not being able to go another day without him knowing it and not knowing how much he means to you, in spite of everything.

Aemond doesn't say anything to you after your confession, he just watches you and smiles softly, then kisses you and locks you in his arms, that being distraction enough to make you believe that he doesn't need to tell you that he loves you too when the actions speak for themselves.

And one day after another of the nights you share with Aemond, King Viserys dies and Prince Aegon is crowned as his successor.

Your father has no choice but to bend the knee to King Aegon while everyone knows that war will break out at any moment after Princess Rhaenys escapes from the Red Keep on her dragon by destroying DragonPit and bringing the news to Princess Rhaenyra.

Exactly that is what happens and then two sides are formed, the blacks and the greens. And you belong to the green ones.

Queen Alicent and the Hand begin to form their alliances, where these alliances is the duty to fulfill Aemond who in the end chooses to marry one of the daughters of Lord Borros Baratheon.

And he has no choice but to let you know what happens next.

"This is necessary. Securing this alliance for Aegon will give us more opportunity against my half-sister's forces. I cannot fail my family. I will win the loyalty of Lord Borros and I will win all of Storm's End."

You can't help but be filled with complete disappointment, feeling your heart shatter into pieces at Aemond's very firm and willing words.

"What about me?" you can't help but ask him in your weak, sad voice.

But he looks at you confused and uncomprehending.

"What do you mean?"

"You're never going to ask for my hand, are you?" you stare at him with tears beginning to fill your eyes, "You don't want to fail your family and in order not to fail them you have to marry one of Lord Borros' daughters."

He avoids looking completely annoyed by your behavior, annoyed that you don't understand that they are at war, that this is his duty and that it is necessary.

"We are at war, Y/N. I cannot afford to choose you over my duty. Besides this is nothing more than a marriage for political purposes to form alliances and strengthen my brother's Throne."

His words hurt you, completely, but still, you don't want to feel more humiliated than you already are and you nod slowly in his direction, lowering your gaze and holding back your tears, because it's not like you can do anything about it.

He's the prince, he has the power to do something about it, but in the end he won't do anything.

"Then I wish you a safe journey and good luck to your brother's cause, Prince Aemond."

Prince Aemond, not Aemond, just his title.

You continue embroidering, trying to make yourself forget his presence in your chamber, still holding back much as you can your tears, understanding that this is the end of what you had and that it can be no more.

Let alone that he will not ask for your hand as he has to marry for political purposes as is his duty.

But Aemond is not tolerating your attitude and behavior at all, so in an instant he stands in front of you and takes your chin with one of his hands, making you raise your gaze to him in a demanding manner and observe him.

At first you feared he was going to hurt you again and scare you like last time, but he continues to make you keep your gaze on him, him with his serious and determined look.

"I don't know what you're thinking Y/N," he tells you in warning, "But don't even believe for a moment that I'm going to leave you for a girl and for a marriage I don't even wish for."

He lets you know and your heart flips, watching him in surprise and definitely not expecting this, as he smirks and delights in your reaction.

"Or what? You truly thought I'd give all this up between you and I for an arranged marriage?"

"B-but—

You try to speak but he won't let you.

"Oh you silly little thing," he mutters without wiping away his amused grin, "You really thought about that? You should know better." he makes his grip on your jaw tighter, "You're mine, remember? And you're never going to leave my side, ever."

He tells you and then lets you go and walks out of your chamber while you are surprised and bewildered. You want to believe he didn't mean it, but he's right… maybe you should know better, because Aemond wasn't messing around at all.

And that same night, Aemond flies to Storm's End.

You found it hard to find sleep, all the time thinking about Aemond and what is going on with him on his journey, thinking about the daughters of Lord Borros, which one of them he chose to marry and how he must have gotten that alliance.

But not only you think about that, you also think about the war, about your father and how desperately he is trying to find you a good husband, telling you that the best thing would be for you to leave the Keep, wanting to put you safe for everything that is happening.

But you reject him at every turn, knowing full well that you cannot leave Aemond and fearing that if you obey your father, Aemond will do something against him and their secret relationship will be revealed.

When in the midst of your thoughts, suddenly your secret door opens and a drenched Aemond enters your chamber, completely pale and with an expression on his face that you have never seen on him before.

You quickly get up and go to him, asking him if he's all right, what has happened, asking him to tell you something, anything.

But he doesn't, he's thinking too much.

When he finally speaks up and tells you… he has killed his own nephew, Lucerys.

You freeze completely, listening in shock and disbelief to everything he tells you, as he really intended to scare him, not kill him. But Vhagar didn't obey him and lost control, killing his nephew, the boy who took his eye.

The first thing you instantly think of, is to comfort him and that's exactly what you do.

This time Aemond lets you be there for him and you let him vent, knowing full well that you could never judge him and that you understand, you understand what really happened despite the full gravity of the matter.

Because now the war has really begun.

Her action later leads to taking responsibility for the brutal murder of her nephew, Jaehaerys, all orchestrated by two people sent by Prince Daemon, taking revenge for the death of Lucerys.

Revenge that the now Queen Helaena has to pay for, slowly slipping into madness after witnessing the murder of her own son, where not even her mother could comfort her and be there for her.

During all these events, Aemond can't truly do much, only bear the consequences of his own actions and continue to support his brother to gain more allies, at all times seeking comfort in you.

Now Aemond takes his anger and frustration out on you by fucking you, not even being able to get enough of you while you let him by wanting to make him feel good and make him forget for a moment about everything that is happend outside.

But the war continues, more battles on the ground and also in the sky with the dragons, resulting Aemond and King Aegon victorious in the battle of Rook's Rest.

They brought with them the head of the dragon Maleys and announcing the death of an important ally of Rhaenyra, Rhaenys Targaryen.

But King Aegon is severely wounded with burns from the battle, as well as his dragon Sunfyre is wounded, which leads to someone else sitting on the Throne until the King's recovery and Aemond is the chosen one.

With the crown of Aegon the Conqueror on his head, Aemond becomes Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm.

This gives you hope, especially because now Aemond's word is law and everything he says has to be done.

Which results in you thinking about Aemond possibly finally asking your father for your hand, since his marriage to Lady Baratheon hasn't happened and it's a possibility that it's not going to happen soon because of the war.

But with you it could happen.

All the while you watch proudly as Aemond's desire for the crown happens, as he delights in all the nobles kneeling before him, him being the great voice of the whole Realm and the King for now.

Considering that Aegon is gravely ill, perhaps his drunken brother will not make it and so he will become the King. It is not as if he would wish death on his own brother, but there is no better person to rule than him, seeing on the side of the Realm.

As a consequence, the war still continues after the strong response of the Blacks to the loss of the great Rhaenys Targaryen. And this is why you begin to spend less time with Aemond due to his new and important position.

With so much to think about and plan for, Aemond is truly dedicated to his duty as Prince Regent, knowing that he can't even give himself a day off from leading his entire Small Council and the entire army at his disposal.

When you are finally able to spend even a moment alone with him in the middle of the night in his chamber, clearly without your father's knowledge.

He has asked you to run him a bath and you comply, always wanting to help him in whatever he needs, assisting him.

You finish helping him wash his magnificent silver hair while Aemond relaxes completely at your touch and feels that peace he needed so much since the crown was placed on his head.

You then help him dry off and dress him in his sleeping clothes, deciding to subtly bring up the subject.

"I know that matters about the war don't concern me, but what are you going to do now?" you ask him softly, "I have an intuition that you won't stay here forever."

He lets out a long breath, finishing pulling on his most comfortable pants.

"The blacks are gaining more ground than we are. I will have to move if I let them get too close to the capital. I have already sent a raven to Oldtown, my brother Daeron should be here soon to protect the Keep while I am gone."

You watch him intently, listening very carefully to his words.

"And will you take your entire army with you?'

"Certainly not. I will leave a part at Daeron's command. Only Cole and the Lannister army will have to come with me."

You let out a long breath, already hating the thought of Aemond leaving again like last time for battle.

All the while you lay awake until the Hour of the Wolf praying to the Seven for him, for his safety and health, that he would return to you.

And now you will be just as worried about him again, hoping for his soon return, fearing and thinking that you may never see him again. And that's what you fear the most.

"And where will you go?"

"I don't know yet, we're considering several important points on the map. But I shouldn't be too long with it, we can't give my half-sister nor my uncle any more time and chance."

"And will you also take Lord Borros' army with you?" you observe him attentively.

"No. They will stay here, protecting my family and you."

He tells you softly to then lift one of his hands and hold your left cheek, while you finish with his clothes and let yourself be completely carried away by his touch.

You close your eyes and let out a sigh, all of him completely invading you and feeling good, but at the same time fearing for his life as you really don't want to lose him.

Then you look at him again with some hope and longing, not wanting this to end so thinking of worst case scenarios, needing him to be yours and you to be his by law, before the Seven.

"Then your wedding to the Baratheon girl won't happen, will it?"

Then all that peace Aemond was feeling vanishes and you stop feeling his touch.

"And what does that matter?"

"It matters to me. You can marry me now. You are Prince Regent, no one could oppose the idea, least of all my father."

He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

"Of course no one could oppose it, Y/N," he tells you serious, "But still I can't afford to lose Lord Borros' entire army to please your whims," he tells you annoyed, "The betrothal to his daughter assures me of having him and all his men on my side and that is what matters."

His words again hurt you, hitting you hard to understand that you are no more important than an army of a thousand men.

You truly understand that there is a war, but you are not a man and you still have to do your duty, not having the time or the same privileges as he does.

You try not to dwell on his words too much and continue to insist.

"I am not telling you this to make you angry Aemond, truly," you clarify softly and pleadingly, "I am telling you this so as not to anger my father," you explain, "His patience is running thin and he is already upset enough with me for turning down very good suitors who asked for my hand."

"As you should."

He tells you serious and disinterested, while you say nothing for a few more seconds, watching him as if you don't know him and his comment not being able to make you more upset, also his attitude about it and how he doesn't care at all.

Because he does want you to understand his point, his position, his army and the war, but he can't understand yours.

"We are not all princes, Aemond!"

You exclaim to him annoyed, catching him off guard, instantly watching you attentively.

"It is my duty to marry too, that is what is expected of me and my father might even come to an agreement without consulting me first out of his desperation and wanting to keep me safe for all this, while I am here, wishing you to finally react and do something about it."

"You want me to do something about it?" he repeats to you serious, "Then what I will do is threaten your father not to give your hand to anyone and that you stay by my side until I wish otherwise. That is what I can do Y/N, but I cannot marry you."

He makes it clear to you as you feel him again breaking your heart without even caring, his words not being in any sense the right ones, while you want to yell at him and make him react, ask him if he even cares a little bit about you.

"You can't do that," you tell him as you hold back your tears, "Everyone will know about us and you'll put my maidenhead in question."

He lets out a sniffle, hurting you again to see how he truly doesn't care about you at all.

"That I can't do it? Just watch me."

And without another word to you, again completely disinterested, he heads out of the chamber to his bathroom, while you continue to hold back your tears and try to hold on to your dignity, following him and watching him completely firm with your words.

"If you do not wish me to leave your side, then marrying you is the only way," you tell him with a lump in your throat.

He looks at you in a curious, but still serious manner.

"Are you threatening me, love?"

"No! I'm doing no such thing, I'm just warning you!" you exclaim to him wearily and needing him to finally act.

"Then what the fuck do you want me to do, Y/N!?"

He finally reacts, but not in the way you expected, walking towards you annoyed and with all the frustration and anger, as well as again that weight feeling it again on his shoulders, looking at you really annoyed and tired of you.

"What don't you understand? For you it would be a great benefit but for me? Will your father give me a thousand men to fight and win the war or a fleet of ships?" he asks you again expectantly, "Your father cannot give me what I need, you are not convenient for me and that is why I cannot and do not wish to marry you!"

Then that is when Aemond again breaks your heart into pieces without even him realizing it and where all the realization hits you like a wave.

Now you truly understand the role you play here because of his words. And now you just feel an emptiness in your chest and watch him with total indifference.

You really don't want to regret having chosen him over your duty, to have risked giving yourself body and soul to him, because he doesn't lose anything, but you do and yet you did it because you love him.

But now by telling you those cruel words… now you no longer feel the need to make him react.

For him to let you know that you mean more to him than just warming his bed and supporting him in his bad moments as well as his good ones.

In times of war… you are not important to him and certainly not convenient. And even if the war wasn't on your mind, you wanted to believe that perhaps he would choose you over his duty, just as you did.

But how wrong you were.

And Aemond doesn't notice any of this because in an instant he again comes towards you and holds your chin with one of his hands firmly and tightly.

He makes you not dare to look away from him, while you do so with no expression on your face and your eyes completely empty.

"You're going to stop with this fucking foolishness, do you hear me? I don't need to also carry you on my shoulders when I already have enough."

He warns you between his teeth and extremely annoyed,

"You're going to stop harassing me with your fucking little girl whims, because I assure you that I have more important things to take care of, have you understood me?"

And you once you also have enough of all this, you have no choice but to hold back your tears and swallow the lump in your throat to answer him in the same way; without emotion.

"Yes, your Grace."

This takes him completely off guard, while you hold his gaze for only a few seconds longer, until you waste no more time and turn away from him to head out of the chamber, while Aemond watches you at all times attentive and even curious about your behavior.

And when the doors close, he finally lets out a long breath as he runs one of his hands over his face, deciding not to do anything else for the day and decides to sleep.

The next morning, Aemond doesn't see you all day, nor the next one, nor the next one after that, and continuously until a considerable number of days pass without your presence.

Still too occupied to do anything about it because of all the meetings he has to attend, yet he notices your absence and finds it strange that by the end of the day it is the maids who assist him when you used to do everything necessary for him.

Until one morning he asks one of the maids to discreetly look for you and let you know that he needs your assistance, threatening the poor girl that no one will listen to her when she says his orders to you and that you will be all alone.

The maid successfully carries out the order, but only to return to the prince and let him know that Lady Y/L/N is apparently unwell.

This immediately catches his attention, but again he is too occupied to attend to the matter.

While you… was not a lie what you told the maid who sent for you on Aemond's orders. After that night when you left his chamber, you never again felt even the desire to stand around him and look him in the eye.

It hurt.

Everything about him hurt.

You lost your appetite completely, preferring to stay in bed all day, not having the energy or the courage to face the world, let alone him. And that led you to start feeling the same way the next few days.

You didn't want to get out of bed, you didn't want to eat, you didn't even want to see daylight through your windows, you just wanted to lie there, thinking about Aemond's words that hurt you more and more.

This behavior was not allowed to pass by your father, who instantly ordered you to eat, not allowing that he would see you all the time pale, without energy and without any food in your stomach, always locked in your chamber.

Until one day, your behavior only got worse when your father let you know the unexpected news.

"I have accepted the offer to give your hand in marriage to a nobleman of House Redwyne, Sr. Ralph Redwyne, son of Rowan Redwyne."

You instantly look at him in complete surprise, your eyes wide open and your lips parted, as your father looks at you serious and firm with the news, making it clear to you that this decision is truly going to happen.

"I have already sent a raven to the Arbor where I have agreed to all of their terms. It is only a matter of time before they can let me know when you will be able to meet your betrothed."

"But why didn't you let me know before about this?" you ask him completely bewildered and alarmed.

"And for what? So that you could avoid your own betrothal?" he asks you serious, "I don't know what has happened to you in all these years Y/N, nor do I know what you were and are thinking, but I've had enough and this union is going to happen, do you understand?

You watch him silently, still shocked and incredulous at the news, while he watches you completely steady and determined, attentive to your reaction.

"We are lucky that a good man like him has asked for your hand," he tells you with a certain bitter tone, "His offer is generous and beneficial."

"But—

"I don't want to hear it," he interrupts you instantly, "This will happen, you understand? I'm already tired and I'm certainly not going to waste such an opportunity, just as it's in your best interest to not waste it either."

As Aemond had told you one day, he would have to leave with part of his army and leave the Keep protected by his brother Daeron and his dragon Tessarion.

The blacks gain more and more ground, so the time comes to act and impose to win the war, where the final piece is positioned in Harrenhal.

Aemond orders days before that his army begins to prepare, taking Sr. Criston Cole with him to take the black castle, where according to his assumptions he will have more opportunity to attack his uncle Daemon.

With the death of Rhaenys Targaryen, killing her uncle may also be a possibility and Rhaenyra will lose another even more important piece of her chessboard and her life.

The news that the Prince Regent is leaving to go to battle reaches your ears, but still you continue locked in your chamber, trying not to let this news make you think too much, although in the end it is impossible.

You don't want to worry about him, you know he doesn't deserve it.

But at least you can pray for his safety, which is the only thing you allow yourself to do, and as much as you want that to give you some peace of mind, it still doesn't.

Then the day comes and you find yourself watching the army ready to march through your windows, all Lannister banners and you also recognize one specific group with that dark green on their banners, the color of the Hightower.

Then you assume that very soon you'll see Vhagar flying away across the skies.

When suddenly your doors open firmly and unexpectedly, to which you jump and are surprised to see Aemond enter with his armor on ready to leave, this drawing the attention of some maids passing through the hallway to see their Protector entering your chamber so suddenly.

You watch him completely bewildered, not understanding what he is doing here when he should already be leaving by now, while he walks towards you in that majestic way as only he knows how to do and determined, his firm eye set only on you.

This matters to you, but it also matters to you and alarms you more that he has just walked into your chamber through your front doors without any discretion at all, still leaving the doors open and in full view of anyone.

"What are you doing?"

You don't even greet him after so many days without seeing him, you just ask him directly what you want to know, attentive and alarmed, but of course he can't blame you because of his own behavior.

"Why haven't I seen you in days, my lady?"

He asks you strangely in a soft voice and watching you intently, to which you can't help but feel nervous about this,

"The maid said you were unwell. But I get the impression that besides that, you're avoiding me, aren't you?"

You swallow hard, remembering what had happened with him, again feeling that sharp pain in your chest and that sadness and disappointment invading you.

But again you hide it as you don't want to upset him again with your little girl whims, as he had told you.

"Aemond, what do you think you're doing? You should be leaving by now. And you shouldn't have come in like that, in fact you shouldn't even be here."

"You didn't answer my question."

You swallow hard again, nerves invading you at his words and his presence.

"If your mother or my father found out—

"They don't matter," he says without much ado and all the confusion and panic sweeps over you, "I'm actually here to take you with me to Harrenhal. Take everything you need, quickly, we should be heading to DragonPit by now."

You look at him completely flustered, bewildered and confused even though he is being more than clear with you, although you do understand.

What you don't understand is why he is doing this, that's why you start to panic, because of his determination to really take you with him.

"What? B-but…I-I don't understand—

He lets out a long breath, showing that he is beginning to lose his patience.

"Take whatever you need, Y/N. We should go now."

"But I can't leave," you insist with worry.

"I wasn't asking."

"You don't understand, my father has given my hand in marriage."

You knew that sooner or later Aemond would know, mostly because news among the Court spreads fast. But honestly you are relieved that he found out from you than from someone else.

However, Aemond's gaze changes completely to a hard, dark and utterly annoyed one.

You flinch a little at his reaction, fearing his behavior about it, but surprisingly Aemond remains still, though his look totally tells you that he's far from feeling good about it, not at all.

"We are waiting for the wedding discussions," you tell him rather fearfully and at this Aemond's gaze only darkens more.

Then you begin to alert yourself the moment he takes a step towards you, his posture completely tense and his whole look showing you that he was not at all pleased to hear this unexpected news.

"We?" he repeats to you in a deadly, low, threatening tone.

You let out a long breath, then swallow hard and watch him still a little nervous.

"My father did everything without consulting me, like I told you he probably would," you remind him in a soft voice so as not to upset him further.

"So you were waiting for the perfect opportunity for me to leave and not let me know about this," he tells you annoyed.

You bite your lips, holding back the real words you want to say to him, but which will probably only make him more upset; I told you so.

You practically warned him, but he didn't care because you're not convenient for him and now he wants you to go with him to Harrenhal, as if that wouldn't make a huge scandal and not only at Court, but also with his family and your father.

"And what could you do about it?" you ask him without much emotion, "I'm not convenient for you, you said it yourself. Or is it that you don't want me to marry anyone else but I'm not going to marry you either?"

Still annoyed, Aemond has no choice but to avert his gaze from yours for a moment as he lets out a long breath, resignation beginning to invade him, for which this gets your attention.

When suddenly he comes fully towards you and holds you by the waist, pulling you fully towards him, closing his eye and bringing his forehead together with yours.

"Forget what I said that night, my love."

He asks you in a soft voice, now his demeanor more than anything else completely getting your attention, not expecting it to go from one completely annoyed to this one more sympathetic to your words.

And though it surprises you, you really don't want to fall at his feet again because of his soft behavior after how he made you feel the last time you saw each other.

You don't want to be that weak, which is why you're neutral and don't hug him back, nor do you melt at his touch like you would have.

"I was angry and under a lot of pressure at the time, but you know you must not make me angrier when I find myself that way, that's why I said those cruel words to you."

He reminds you softly.

"Though I was honest on some matters Y/N," he tells you a little more serious, "I cannot lose Lord Borros' men nor his support by breaking off my betrothal to his daughter."

So there it is again…that pain and that feeling that you are not important to him than a thousand men ready to fight his war, that he has never really felt the same way you feel about him.

Instantly you try to subtly pull away from him, with the pain in your chest, but he quickly holds you firmly and prevents you from moving away, not letting you go.

"Listen to me Y/N…" he asks you, "I can't do it now but I can do it later, when the war is over."

So that's when you slowly stop putting up resistance and slowly begin to let yourself be led by him, listening more attentively to his words, watching him intently and almost curiously, as Aemond continues.

"I don't want any other man to take you, I want you all to myself," he murmurs to you, leaning down to your face, as you watch him intently and with your lips parted, "When the war is over, that's when I can marry you, I promise."

You continue to watch him completely attentively, almost not believing his words, with your heart beating very fast and all that hope being reborn within you, for those were just the words you wanted to hear so badly.

Still, you don't know if he is saying them just to convince you to go with him.

Then Aemond, just to be a little more convincing, leans in and leaves a soft kiss on your lips where at first you thought you wouldn't reciprocate, but you can't resist and melt under his touch.

He glues your body completely to him just in that way where he makes you feel completely desired by him, where you are his and he is not willing to let you go.

"You promise?" you repeat in a murmur against his lips, letting yourself be completely carried away by him, absorbed.

"Yes, I promise," he assures you softly.

He kisses you again, in a firmer, needier way, as you gasp into his mouth and place your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you if possible.

And when they pull apart and you look directly into his eye, you see only the honesty and how terribly serious he is being with you at that moment, almost watching you in a loving way, bringing one of his hands to your cheek to gently caress you.

Still, even though he has practically convinced you already that this is all you have ever wished for, you still think of your father and your marriage to Lord Beesbury.

"But what about my father and my marriage? He won't let me go with you," you say beginning to worry, "So will your family, your mother and grandsire, what will they think? The news will reach Storm's End if you take me with you."

"Don't worry about any of that. I am the Prince Regent, remember?" he says softly as he looks at you expectantly, "Now take what you need. We need to go now."

[sapphire-writes]

Hey, if your requests are still open and you accept... How about Aemond being inevitably soft towards jace's twin (who he claims to hate)? Maybe they were close as children but they drifted apart due to family division. During her family stay at kings landing, not a day goes by without them engaging in some good old fashioned arguing/battle of wits. One day he finds her all alone and in distress and before he can say something mean, she bursts out crying and hugs him tightly (almost like he's the only solid thing around her). Cue Aemond being out of sorts and unable to get out a scathing remark out while innerly: "No, stop! I'm supposed to be mean and scary. I'm not soft 🥺🥺"

A/N: Oooo nonnie I loved this request. I love some banter, I definitely ran with them really taunting one another. I hope you like this! I made them pretty feisty towards one another 😂💚

Dragon's Bane ~ Aemond x Velaryon(Strong)!reader

word count: 1.8k

warning: reader is Jace's twin, some violence

masterlist

EDIT: PART 2 is live 💚

Your stomach twisted with nerves as you arrived at the Red Keep. Your mother squeezed your hand, to comfort you and you offered her a small smile. You glanced at your twin Jacaerys who stood tall, looking towards the red towers. Luke, however, paled at the sight before him. You placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“It shall be alright,” you told him, causing him to smile weakly. Driftmark’s succession had been challenged, the reason for your return to the capital. You pushed your fear down, deep inside of you. You needed to be there for your brother, focused on nothing else. 

As your mother and Daemon made their way into the castle, you followed your brothers towards the training yard. The sound of clashing steel in the early morning rang out across the yard as a crowd gathered to watch. Jace nudged your elbow, beckoning you.

Finding a window between several heads you saw your uncle, Aemond Targaryen, was the source of all the clamor. He twirled expertly away from Ser Criston’s attack, silver hair fanning out behind him. He looked rather graceful, as though he was engaged in a dance rather than a fight. 

Aemond and you had been close as children, friends even. The two of you bonded over not having dragons of your own. Aemond was not awarded a dragon in cradle, and yours had failed to hatch. It wasn’t until later in your adolescent you had claimed a dragon of your own. 

With the loss of his eye came the end of your friendship. Luke was your brother after all, it was your duty to protect him from the Queen’s justice. Though you empathized with Aemond, for the wrong done against him. 

“Nephews,” Aemond called, “niece.” His sword was pointed, his violet eye locked onto you. He was handsome, you had to admit, even with the scar and the eyepatch that hid half his face. 

“Come to train?” he asked, a challenge more than a question. Your twin stood eerily still next to you. You snort out a laugh as his remark. Aemond’s eye narrowed.

“Something funny, niece?” he asked, as you crossed your arms in front of you. 

“I just found it rather unappealing, tis all. Need your ego fluffed up a bit more, uncle?” you told him, raising your brows. Aemond’s mouth formed a tight line. Jace’s head snapped towards you. 

“Sister,” he warned. Aemond’s lip curled. 

“Careful, niece,” he says, voice smooth, “you begin to tug free from your brother’s leash.” Aemond makes a tsk sound with his tongue. Your cheeks fill with fire. You open your mouth to say something else when Jace wraps his hand around your arm. 

“Come on,” he orders, pulling you from the scene, “he’s not worth it.”

The incident in the training yard was hardly the last quarrel you got into with your uncle during your time at King’s Landing. It was as though your mere existences annoyed one another and yet you could not see to stay away from each other. 

Everywhere you went, he appeared. The library, the gardens, the sept. There was no escaping his torment.  

“I didn’t know you could read, niece,” Aemond had said, snatching a book you tried to reach, walking past you. You huff in frustration, trailing after him, deeper into the library. 

“Give it back.”

“Ivestragon issa isse valyrīha,” he says (Tell me in Valyrian). 

Your face scrunches. Your mother tongue has been difficult for you and your twin to learn. You and Jace spent ages in the halls of Dragonstone practicing the language of Old Valyria. 

“What?” you ask, causing Aemond to smile at your defeat. 

“Nykeā zaldrīzes qilōni daor ȳzaldrīzes,” he says chuckling (A dragon who cannot speak).

You curl your hands into fists. You can feel the humiliation in your bones.

“Say it in the common tongue, if you’re so brave,” you taunt him, reaching for the book. He moves out of the way effortlessly. 

“Kostilus tolī.” (Perhaps later)

“It must be exhausting, being this insufferable all the time,” you tell him.

“You’re very cruel when you are feeling inferior,” Aemond tells you, a smirk on his face. 

“Inferior? To you?” you bark out a laugh, “you wish.”

“I already know it to be true,” he says, leaning against a desk, “in knowledge, in name.”

You sigh dramatically, tipping your head back to expose the skin of your neck. Your dark curls fall down your back, bouncing at the action, nearly mesmerizing your uncle. 

“You speak so poetically uncle, it almost feels like you’re trying to make a point.”

Aemond merely hums in response. He eyes your neck as though he wishes to sink his teeth into your flesh and tear out your jugular. 

“You always were a spiteful little creature,” he murmurs, eye narrowing. 

You hold his gaze for a moment. 

“Give me my book.”

“No, it is mine.” 

Your mouth forms a smirk then, eyes gleaming with mischief. 

“Cannot part with it for an afternoon?” you tease, pouting, “very sweet uncle, like a child with a toy.”

This causes him to throw the book across the room. 

Dinner is a nightmarish event. A fight is likely to start once your grandsire is removed from the room. Aemond stands to make a final toast. 

“Final tribute, to my nephews, and niece,” he drolls, holding his cup out. Your ears ring as he continues, you watch his smug mouth move the words lost to you. All you see is red. 

“I dare you say that again,” Jace says, from his spot with Helaena. You stand from your chair and move away from the table. 

“Twas only a compliment,” Aemond insists, “do you not think yourself strong?” 

Jace is on him, punching him in the jaw. Aemond barely moves, pushing Jace to the floor. You walk over to him, slapping his cup from his hand. It clatters to the floor, the wine pooling like blood. Aemond’s smirk only grows.

“Do you not tire of being your brother’s lapdog?” he says. You slap him before thinking of the consequences. He turns back to you, cheek an angry red. He twists his hand in your curls, pulling you close to him. You can feel his breath on your face. There is only Aemond in the room, the noises around drown out. You hold his gaze, both of your faces masked in rage. 

“I hate you,” you hiss. A growl rumbles low in his chest. 

“I hate you right back.” 

Daemon has to drag you from the room, at the instruction of your mother. You sit within their chambers trying to cool your head. 

“You are too quick to anger,” Daemon scolds, as you fix your hair. The roots sit painfully from being manhandled by your uncle. 

“He vexes me,” you snarl and Daemon chuckles. 

“He will not bother you long.”

You look towards your mother who rests her hand on her stomach. Her lilac eyes are sad. You wish you looked like her, especially when you were young. You often dreamt of waking with lavender eyes and silver hair. 

“What do you mean?”

Daemon glances at Rhaenyra for permission. Though Daemon has been your father figure for most of your life, he still looks to Rhaenyra for guidance when it comes to you. She nods.

“When we return to Dragonstone, you shall journey to Winterfell,” he begins, “to wed Lord Cregan Stark.”

Your blood turns to ice in your veins. It was only a matter of time, you supposed, but you had hoped your mother would delay it. 

“What?” you say through your teeth. 

“My love,” Rhaenyra says beckoning you to come sit with her, but you back away. 

“No, no! Mother please,” you beg, tears filling your eyes. Your voice is strained and panicked. 

You have sat in your mother’s lap and listened to her cry over being forced to marry. You have seen her tears and listened to her sobs in the night when she believed you to be sleeping. You have seen her unhappy, heard her thoughts on the matter. And yet she puts you in the same position. 

“I will not go!” you insist, though you are afraid you sound like a petulant child with your demands. 

“You shall do your duty,” Daemon says, a warning look in his eye. You do not meet your mother’s gaze as you flee from the room. 

Aemond finds you in the gardens. He had come to get some air after the event of dinner. When he spots you sitting on a bench his whole body tenses. He feels a throbbing where his sapphire eye sits as though your very presence is enough to bring on one of his painful fits. 

Aemond struts towards you, tongue ready to release a cruel remark. A twig snaps beneath his foot in his haste and you turn towards him, tears streaming down your face. Aemond feels as though he has been kicked in the gut as all the air in his lungs leaves him. 

Your face is red, dark eyes glassy with fresh tears as you stand. Your lower lip wobbles as the streams on your cheeks glisten in the moonlight as fresh tears wet your face. Aemond’s lips part as he readies to speak, to throw an insult your way. 

A sob slips through your lips and suddenly your arms are around him, and her nearly topples over as you throw your weight onto him. His chest muffles your sobs as you hide your face from him. Aemond froze, his hands held out to his side, as you anchored yourself to him. It is as though you cannot leave King’s Landing as long as you are tethered to him. 

Your hands claw his back, holding on as though someone intends to tear you from him. You are in the palm of his hand, how easily he could humiliate you now. But he does not. Aemond’s arms relax against you as he holds you to him. He brings a hand to stroke your dark hair from your face. 

He finds himself unable to speak, the words fizzling from his mind as he feels the heat from your body melt into him. All he can do is stroke your hair, rub soothing circles in your arm as his tongue fails him.

It unsettles something within him and disturbs him. His bastard niece, this is wrong, he thinks to himself. Aemond does not believe himself to be a comforting man. The kindness he displays to his niece is foreign to him. 

You hate her. 

You despise her. 

She is everything you loathe in this world. 

You look up at him with those big brown eyes, and Aemond believes you must think the same about him. Neither of you speaks. This is not a language either of you knows. But as your cries lull, you stay in his arms in the gardens bathed in moonlight, exploring this unknown territory together.  

[chibi-celesti]

Metafalica anw GRANDEE=LILIA_VANROUGE (The Song of Hope of Lilia Vanrouge)

Summary: In honour of one Fae’s Journey to fulfill his princess’ last wish to save her son, the newborn Prince of Briar Valley.

Heavy Spoilers to Book 07 of Twisted Wonderland. You have been WARNED! And to all the Lilia Lovers out there (yes that includes you, @hanafubukki), this is for you! Hope I did him justice!

Hymmnos Lyrics inspired by this lovely cover of METAFALICA.

~xE rre lasye rYEfrEmU sasye ess Asphaela_urgn/.~

~xA rre lasye fwArn Amerfa_sasye, ag hYAppA za r.w. sasye/.~

~xA harr en herr kAvnLYA v.a. 1 varda rre cie aNuOk zz sarsa/.~

~xA rre arhou sAlLYEeh yYAzLYAtAeh dn vege manac rhaplanca en maoh~

They lost…

Briar Country, once heralded as a Land dominated by the Fae, is now a remnant of what it once was…

Their Princess…slain by the humans who demonized them for their existence. All because of the greed of one egotistical man.

All that was left of her was her son. Still only an egg, but also a star of hope for the people of Briar Valley.

And yet he, too, was taken away from his arms. Not by death, but by those who viewed the broken-hearted war general, who could do nothing but weep for the death of his beloved Meleanor, a failure.

As the days began to pass, the people of Briar Valley hoped and prayed for the young prince to hatch. While nurtured from afar with his grandmother giving him her magic, the prince heard Lilia's vow to one day find a solution that will awaken him.

And so, he traveled the changing world of humans. Looking for the key that would save the egg.

During his journey, he would stumble upon people, asking if anyone knew how to hatch a dragon's egg. But all he got in turn was disdain and hatred by most people who only saw him as a monster.

Even with the malice of human perspective and apathy wanting to make him give up, Lilia persevered and continued his journey.

All for Malleus's sake.

While he may not have made any progress, Lilia could only offer stories to the young prince when he met him time and time again. His voice was a balm to the little one, subconsciously becoming a Hymn of Hope to young Malleus. 

The stories Lilia told were that of an ever changing world beyond Briar Valley's borders. How much humanity has changed; some still superstitious and distrusting while others were more open and compassionate. He spoke of how he hopes to show Malleus the world once he's older.

The days passed with no signs of the egg shell showing any cracks to indicate his hatching. The people of Briar Valley feared that their Prince would soon join his parents in the Stars. That they would lose their symbol of hope to death.

However, even as those around him and Queen Maleficia despaired for the worst, Lilia kept moving forward. Kept going despite the gear gnawing at his heart and mind.

“I made a promise to your mother that you will one day hatch and become a Prince she would be proud of.”

And Lilia's vow grew into determination and hope. A hope that for one day Malleus could forge a bond with the outside world. From that hope gave birth to a power that is befitting for someone him; Protector of Cradles. Such a blessing allowed him to save the young prince when he began to reject his Grandmother’s magic and cry out to his true guardian and father.

Giving it his all, from his love, his magic and life force, Lilia had given it all to Briar Valley’s Hope. To young Malleus.

Lilia Vanrouge was proud to give up everything to give his Prince that hope.

[horizon-verizon]

Phoebe Campbell saying about Baela and Rhaena “There’s a little bit of tension because of their separate upbringings, Baela was raised with grandma & grandpa, Rhaena by stepmom and half siblings. Rhaena feels quite a lot of resentment there.”

So... that garbage fanfic wants to put the dragon twins against each other ?? They aren’t Arya and Sansa, Baela and Rhaena actually love each other, and unlike Sansa, Baela never bullied her sister. And why would Rhaena resent the fact that she had to live with her stepmom and half siblings ??

This is if--and only IF--Phoebe is correct in how the show will decide to characterize Rhaena, and since they literally acted the character, shot all the scenes, and haven't gone on record with bad takes, I think we don't have much a reason to suspect otherwise.

Link to the article that came out today and what anon refers to:

BranwynHlfwitch over at Twitter has a whole thread pointing out other stuff how Ryan Condal has never had a great grasp on the plot or really of history & historians.

I think that part of it is they are trying to develop these characters for their larger roles they're planning during the Dance & the way they decided to go about that is to create conflict b/t the fan fav sisters. And I think they might try to to argue or imply that she is resentful bc of not just second-son syndrome, but basically Baela was picked by their grandparents to be closer and let Rhaena be. Why not both of them, if they are already seeming to break tradition? It will likely folow the theme of silent rejection the show allows the audience to quickly assume from episode 6, where Rhaena bemoans Daemon ignoring her bc of her not hatching an egg...which I already talked about.

Baela--for a very dumb reason--becomes the "ward" of the Velaryons & Rhaenys wants Corlys to name Baela as his heir...presumably without consulting Daemon, the girl's father or Viserys, the head of the house Baela is actually a part of and who would determine how his house's possible heirs inherit what over other candidates...bc Baela & Rhaena are both technically still in line for the throne though they aren't titled as princesses. Just way down and the claims would get stronger the more people before them die...which we already see in the bk.

Anyway, Baela is seemingly older than Rhaena instead of being her twin as by canon; she has a dragon where Rhaena does not; she is, bc she is older, taken to Driftmark to learn the ways of a leader as if she might become the head of a house or whatever even though we also know that Corlys has definitely not named her his heir by his & Rhaenys' conversation in the last episode (so for 6 years why is Baela there without being named when they could just visit each other--her and Rhaenys--by ship and dragonback [pic below] idk, the spectacle of it?).

And while Rhaena loved her dad, loved her stepsiblings/1st cousins-once-removed & I believe that Rhaenyra was a great stepmother to her, because the show did not show us their lives, they will take advantage of that and present us with a lot of stuff like this--breaking lore and going along with the breakage to build their own tale but also sometimes not showing a logical progression from that point of breakage [again, lok to the link abt cradle-bonding].

Yes, there's the argument that Daemon is merely worried over Rhaena's being singled put and left out or belittled, sidelined, for not having a dragon as he felt being a second son/child even with his dragon...but again, look to my post about cradle-bonds and the history of dragon bonds he supposedly knows and it becomes still dumb when he still ends up doing the very thing he's supposed to have feared for his daughter, to her.

Would it have helped if the writers actually developed these people's lives before the Dance and actually think through their plot decisions if they planned to make Rhaena-Daemon's deal this, absolutely! But we have what we have.

Show!Rhaena could come to just resent her sister for all this perceived favoritism.

I may be wrong, who knows.

[cherryheairt]

I think Daenys' confession of love to Cregan should be like Anthony's to Kate or Daphne's to Simon when they reconcile in the last chapter. Although it's usually the woman who feels insecure about a man's love when she sees him with another woman, that's already so common that it falls into a sociological cliche and for once I think it would be nice to see Cregan a bit insecure about Daenys' love for him and not the other way around. As for the Pact of Ice and Fire, I think it would be interesting to see Daenys find out, see her reaction and wonder if that's why Rhaenyra sent her North to offer herself in marriage to Lord Stark in exchange for an army. I also think Daenys and Cregan would be the kind of couple who, despite their privileged positions, would choose to sleep together in the same room and have their babies' cots next to them until the babies were old enough to sleep alone in their own rooms and even then, those rooms would still be close enough to their matrimonial room in case of emergency. I imagine Dusk sleeping around the cots to protect them. Then each baby, as they grow older and as appropriate, will have a dragon or a wolf to guard them while they sleep in their respective rooms.

I think that's a pretty good guess of Cregan's thoughts after she leaves. She never said anything back in terms of feelings, after all. Maybe he thinks he misjudged her own feelings. She now knows his feelings are true after his reassurance, and is chilling (barely) at Dragonstone while he's pulling his hair out.

Yes! Against the Maester's guidance or other Lords and Ladies' traditions, they will never have separate chambers and Cregan will not let the Maester dictate if he's in the birthing room or not. It may be 'untraditional' but he'd be damned if he wasn't there to comfort his wife during the scariest time of her life, which she associates with death.

The cribs, too, would be in their rooms until the babes start to ween off milk. So they can be fed by Daenys during the night instead of a wet nurse, Daenys feels it would make her a bad mother (it wouldn't, all mom's are different in the way they choose to feed their babies, feed babies are all that matter, go moms!) if she let another woman do it.

Cregan would be surprised at the 'egg in cradle' traditions. Of course it's not so literal, the egg is hatched in an incubator, but the dragon does live inside if the parents allow it until they are too big to be indoors. It's how Rhaenyra let Morningstar and Daenys bond, and they have the ultimate dragon bondTM, so she'd want the same for her children. It would definitely freak the hell out of Cregan, after seeing how even the babies have sharp teeth and claws and are born with a fierce nature towards those who aren't bonded to them.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Can I confess something? Ugh, but I fucking love Aemond x Vhagar. Would die if you wrote some Vhagond smut.

You got it, dude.

How to Bang Your Dragon

Paring: Aemond x Vhagar Warnings: Smut, bestiality. Word count: ~1500

DISCLAIMER: This fic is intended as a joke between the author and their mutuals. This is in no way intended to be taken seriously. It will not be added to my masterlist or cross posted to A03. The author in no way condones bestiality. If you are easily offended, please do not click 'read more'.

Credit to @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for sending in this horrifying request. Artwork credit to the insanely talented and unhinged @osferthsbussy

Aemond had always been drawn to dragons. Throughout his childhood he’d longed for one, bitter at the fact that the egg placed in his cradle when he was born had never hatched. He was seemingly unable to bond with any of the unclaimed beasts that resided within the Dragonpit. He looked on in envy as his brother, Aegon, rode Sunfyre. Even his moonstruck sister, Helaena, had Dreamfyre.

It enraged Aemond that his bastard nephews Jacaerys and Lucerys had Vermax and Arrax. They weren’t even of pure Valyrian blood - how was it possible that their hatchlings had accepted them so readily? Little Joffrey’s egg had hatched too, giving him Tyraxes. Aemond lamented the unfairness of it all. It did not seem right that a Targaryen prince should be denied the simple pleasure of dragon riding.

Dragons fascinated him in a way that he could never quite put his finger on. To all those around him, his behaviour seemed obsessive. His brother and nephews even went as far as to play a cruel prank on him by leading him to the Dragonpit under the premise of having found him a dragon of his own, only to then present him with a pig. Still, this did not deter his ambition. He set about learning everything there was to know about these majestic creatures. He read every book that the Red Keep’s library had to offer and even asked the maesters to acquire more from Old Town once he’d exhausted what was immediately available to him.

The night following Laena Velaryon’s death is a night that will remain as his fondest memory. The vision of Vhagar flying high above Dragonstone, now riderless, had taken his breath away. As he’d watched her land on a nearby cliff edge, it was as if something he was powerless to resist drew him to her.

He’d been fearful on first approach; Vhagar was the largest dragon in the world, and she could end his life with a single snap of her jaws. However, when she didn’t balk at his approach, his confidence blossomed. A peculiar sensation he’d never experienced before had spread throughout his body, aiding his next actions.

“Vhagar, lykirī!” he’d commanded, ordering the gargantuan reptile before him to be calm as she rumbled a growl at him. “Dohaerās, Vhagar!” he’d shouted to be heard, ordering her to obey him.

His skin had broken out into gooseflesh upon first touching the rough scales of her expansive back. He was propelled by excitement as he’d scaled the enormity of her, before finally settling into her saddle. His heart was racing so hard he feared it may burst from his chest. However, a death on dragonback would be a worthwhile one.

“Sōvēs,” Aemond ordered, causing Vhagar to beat her enormous wings, taking to the air. She was now his and nothing would change that. He felt unstoppable. He felt a kinship with Vhagar that he’d never experienced with anyone else.

“Sesīr kipi!” he’d urged her forward, whooping and laughing as she’d soared through the clouds. He had never experienced exhilaration like it. Finally, he was a dragonrider - and not just any dragonrider. He had the most powerful dragon in the world.

The price he’d paid for her that night had been costly, but it mattered not to Aemond. He may have lost an eye, but he’d gained his soulmate. He’d gladly give up any number of appendages if it meant he got to keep his beloved Vhagar.

The day of his thirteenth name day, Aegon had taken Aemond to a pleasure house in the Silk Streets.

“Time to get it wet,” Aegon had smirked.

Aemond had been horrified, but went along with it anyway, he felt pressured and did not want to add to the long list of things that Aegon already teased him for.

However, as the whore above him had moaned and rolled her hips, Aemond had laid there motionless. He did not feel anything. Surely this was not normal? He should feel pleasure.

It was then the realisation hit him. The only time he’d ever felt what he was supposed to be feeling in this moment was when he was with Vhagar.

Aemond felt mortified by this fact. Such feelings for a being that was not human were an abomination. He had buried those feelings deep, ignoring the flutter in his chest and the swelling between his legs whenever he was in his dragon’s presence.

As the years passed and temptation grew harder to resist, Aemond reasoned that Vhagar must feel the same way for him. Surely there must have been a reason she’d allowed a mere boy to claim her? She was the largest dragon in the world and had carried the infamous Visenya Targaryen upon her back. There was no way she would have allowed him to claim her if the attraction was not mutual.

The first time that Aemond had tried to couple with Vhagar had been unsuccessful. She’d roared in protest, almost crushing him underfoot.

He’d left her, knowing he’d done something wrong. He revisited his research in the library, focusing specifically on dragon anatomy and was determined that, if he were to try again, he would be prepared.

Which brings him to the present moment. He stands beneath Vhagar, his stiff cock in his hand and a pail of oil at his feet. The kitchen staff had given him an odd look when he’d asked for so much, but thankfully his status had allowed him to forego too many prodding questions.

“Rȳbās,” he says gently to Vhagar, dipping the hand not holding his prick into the oil and beginning to massage her cloaca.

He knows from having read about dragon anatomy that this is the chamber into which the intestinal, urinary, and genital tracts open. It will not open without stimulation if he is to have access to the part he desires most.

As he continues to rub at Vhagar, she rumbles in approval, the vent opening and allowing Aemond’s questing hand inside.

He pumps lazily at his cock at the sensation of how cold and wet she feels. So different to that of a human female cunny, yet so much more appealing.

When Aemond feels he has provided enough attention to the area, he grips the underside of Vhagar, hauling himself up so that he is suspended upside down, holding onto her underside with both hands and feet and slides himself home.

He grunts as his aching member is swallowed whole by the enormity of the opening. He has to thrust wildly to gain any sort of friction and yet the sensation is absolutely divine. He has never known ecstasy like it.

It is only when Vhagar elicits an angry snort that he remembers that this experience should be for her pleasure too. Aemond knows that there is a bundle of nerves at the apex of a woman’s sex which allows for her to feel exquisite sexual pleasure. He has learned from his extensive research that dragons possess two of these.

He swivels his hips from side to side as he continues to thrust, with the aim to try and hit both, wanting Vhagar to feel every bit as good as he does.

“Māzīs,” he coos to her, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he nears his own end.

He gasps, dropping down to the floor when he hears the tittering laugh of his brother, Aegon.

“I knew it!” Aegon gloats, a smirk on his face that suggests he finds the entire situation entertaining.

Aemond says nothing, staring angrily at Aegon for ruining his orgasm. He stuffs his oily cock back into his breeches.

“Jace and I always used to joke that you loved dragons so much because you wanted to fuck one,” Aegons says with a smirk. “Now I know it was not a joke. Who’s the depraved one now, brother?”

“Shut up!” Aemond hisses. “You would not understand… What Vhagar and I have is beyond the realm of human comprehension. This is what true love is!”

“You are deluded,” Aegon scoffs. “And I cannot wait to tell mother all about her favourite son’s adventures with his dear old dragon. Perhaps I will no longer seem so bad.”

Aemond stares in horror as Aegon walks away. Alicent cannot know of what he has done; she would put a stop to it. She’d never allow him to be with Vhagar.

Panic stricken, Aemond knows he must escape if his relationship with his beloved is to continue.

Hastily, he mounts Vhagar - this time on her back - and gives the command to fly. They do not descend until they have reached a land that is far out of reach from the interference of his family. 

There he is able to finish what he started. His orgasm is earth shattering as he spends inside of Vhagar with a loud groan. Though he knows it is an impossibility for him to impregnate her, he cannot help but think she would hatch him the most beautiful dragon-children.

As Aemond drifts off into a satisfied slumber, lulled by the feeling of his dragon’s hardened skin against his cheek, he cannot help but think that if their love is wrong, then he never wants to be right.

[bbygirl-aemond]

What Was the Average Age for a Targaryen to Claim a Dragon?

Hi all a post a few days back got me thinking (and I had like half an hour left in my lunch break and got bored) so I did another completely unnecessary deep dive into Targaryen lore. I went through the complete list of dragon riders, barring those whose eggs hatched in their infancy/toddlerhood (which is considered in-universe to be different from claiming a non-hatchling dragon later on), and made a list of all of the confirmed ages that these people claimed their mounts. This goes off of Fire and Blood and ASoIaF canon, and there are some differences for the House of the Dragon series that I'll discuss below.

I didn't include riders if there was a wide range of dates within which they claimed their dragon, or if we didn't get a birth year. Like, Daemon bonded with Caraxes between the ages of 11-24, which is too ambiguous, so I didn't include him. Also, you can decide whether or not you'd like to include Aerea claiming Balerion, since it only impacts the average by 5 days. And I did include non-Targaryens here, but I'll discuss the math if you exclude them and only look at official Targaryens later on because it's not what you might expect. Here's my work:

I did the math so you don't have to, and the average age at which people claim their dragons in GRRM's universe is 13 years and 115 days.

This previous data does include a number of non-Targaryens (Laena, Laenor, Nettles, Addam). I won't show the graph again, because the distribution remains roughly the same. But, interestingly enough, if you exclude them the average age actually increases slightly. The average age at which Targaryens alone claim their dragon is 13 years and 170 days. If you compare this to the non-Targaryens, the average age is 12 years and 274 days. So on average, Targaryen dragon riders claim their dragons 261 days later than non-Targaryen dragon riders. (This doesn't account for Ulf White or Hugh Hammer though since they have no confirmed birth date, and might not be true if they were included.)

Daeron is actually the youngest ever to claim an already-hatched dragon, at age 6. Rhaenyra wasn't the youngest to claim a dragon, but she was the youngest to ever ride one, at age 7. And Maegor was the oldest to ever claim a dragon, at age 25.

In contrast to HotD, Aemond was actually younger than average when he claimed Vhagar by three whole years. He also wasn't the last in his family to claim a dragon, and Aegon and Daeron only claimed their dragons less than a year before he did. It's still possible that he was the last of his brothers to claim a dragon, and he still claimed Vhagar later than any of Rhaenyra's children whose dragons all hatched in their cradles. But as with some other things (like Alicent and Viserys's age gap), the show seems to have exaggerated things to make it clearer to a wider audience.

[kabie-whump]

Shiny Things - Part 2

Part 1

I had to let Ventis out so enjoy his rescue :)

(With a side of pining since it's Onthyes's POV)

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The bastard didn’t stand a chance. Not after Shayah got her hands on him, at least.

They’d found the place quickly with the help of the merchant they’d interrogated: a little house near the outskirts of the city. There was nothing incriminating about it from the outside. They never would have found it on their own. Onthyes knocked a few times with no response from whoever may be inside, so Shayah jumped at the opportunity to kick down the door.

Inside the house was just as normal as the outside: a small table situated in the middle of the main room and an open doorway leading to a small bedroom on the opposite wall. There was a kettle sitting over red coals in the kitchen area, steam beginning to pour from the vent. Someone had been here recently.

“Hello?”

Onthyes wandered around, searching for any more doorways. It seemed to be just the two rooms.

Shayah examined the boiling kettle with a frown. “Must’ve run when he heard you knocking. You should’ve let me bust the door down from the start.”

Onthyes ignored her in favor of looking for any other exits, but he found none other than a window which was closed and latched from the inside.

“Maybe he just-“

A muffled scream followed by a rumble of thunder from the clear skies above. Onthyes’s blood ran cold.

“Ventis,” he breathed.

“Came from below us. Look for a hatch.”

They found the hatch concealed under a rug in the bedroom. Onthyes threw it open and descended down the ladder so quickly he missed the bottom few rungs and nearly fell on his ass. Shayah skipped the ladder altogether and landed on her feet next to him.

The basement was a single room - small and dingy and smelling strongly of iron. An unnaturally strong wind pulled at Onthyes’s cloak. In the nearest corner were a few open crates overflowing with horns and claws and teeth from all sorts of creatures. But that wasn’t what caught his attention.

Ventis was chained to a table, blindfolded and gagged while two people leaned over him. Onthyes couldn’t see much, but he caught the way Ventis’s foot kicked uselessly against his bonds as he let out another scream.

That scream was all it took to launch Onthyes and Shayah into action. They took down the two men quickly and ruthlessly, and if Shayah used a little more force than was necessary subduing them, Onthyes pretended not to notice.

Once Ventis's captors were taken down Onthyes wasted no more time on them. Ventis was more important.

He ran to Ventis's side, removing his gag and blindfold while Shayah searched for the key to the cuffs on his wrists and ankles. Ventis looked like he'd been through hell: eyes dull, face pale, breaths coming in ragged gasps. He trembled as Shayah freed him and Onthyes lifted him into his arms.

Onthyes has carried Ventis a few times before, but the genasi always protested in some way. Ventis was quiet now, cheek pressed against bloody chainmail. Shayah held a waterskin to Ventis's lips and he drank greedily, water dribbling down his chin and onto his exposed chest.

"Find his clothes," Onthyes whispered as Shayah took her waterskin back. She nodded once and started looking around.

Onthyes sat down on the floor with Ventis still cradled in his arms, examining his injuries. There were small bloody patches all over his body where Onthyes knew he used to have scales. It made anger - the very thing he was always working so hard to suppress - rise in his chest as he imagined those monsters meticulously cutting Ventis's scales from his skin.

He followed the bloody constellation across Ventis's body, mourning every loss, until he reached the one place he'd been dreading.

Onthyes had fallen asleep staring at it one hundred times; had imagined pressing his lips to it two hundred times. It winked at him in dim lantern light every time Ventis turned away from him - a small, delicate scale in the shape of a perfect heart embedded just behind his ear.

And it was gone. Only a scab.

Onthyes squeezed his eyes closed, holding back tears. He had no reason to be upset right now, not when Ventis was the one who had been tortured and cut up for parts for days on end.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into Ventis's hair. "I'm so sorry. We took too long."

Ventis stirred from his state of shocked semi-consciousness, staring up at Onthyes with puffy, teary eyes. He coughed a few times before he managed to speak.

"Would you please stop saving my life, hero? It is getting embarrassing." His voice was hoarse and cracked but he still managed to sound so elegant to Onthyes.

Onthyes laughed breathlessly, shaking his head. "Never. Not until you stop giving me a reason to."

Ventis rolled his eyes, then glanced down to examine the state of his skin. His face fell.

"Couldn't find your clothes," Shayah said as she knelt next to the two of them. "Found a blanket though. And I've got a potion for you."

Ventis took the tattered blanket gratefully, wrapping himself up in it like he couldn't stand to be seen. After Shayah had finished feeding him a healing potion Onthyes helped him stand unsteadily on his feet. He offered to carry him again, but Ventis declined.

"What do you want us to do with these?" Shayah asked, picking up a wooden bowl filled with bloody scales from the table and showing it to Ventis.

Ventis took one look at the bowl and averted his eyes with disgust. "I don't care," he muttered. "Just get rid of them."

"Aye aye."

Feeling a bit better as the healing potion took effect, Ventis was able to make it up the ladder and outside the house with only a little help from his friends. They walked back towards the inn, earning some odd looks from others on the streets. Ventis was wearing only a tattered blanket and looking like he'd been half pecked apart by wild birds and Onthyes and Shayah both had blood splattered on their armor, so Onthyes figured the attention was deserved. He could tell Ventis hated it though so he made sure to lead them through some less crowded backstreets.

Later, after Ventis had received some attention from a healer, he and Onthyes were together in their room and preparing for bed. Ventis was doing his best to hide how he was feeling, but he didn't seem to be in control of the literal stormcloud forming like a crown above his head.

Onthyes sat down on their bed, trying his best to appear non-threatening. Ventis was never one to talk openly about his feelings, but Onthyes would rather not risk being electrocuted in the middle of the night if Ventis went to bed upset.

"Are you alright?"

Ventis stilled, surprised, then glanced up at the cloud above his head and waved it away with a look of betrayal.

"I am fine. Do you not have armor to polish or something of the like?"

"You were kidnapped," Onthyes reminded him gently. "They tortured you. Changed you. You're allowed to not be okay."

A breeze picked up inside the room, making the curtains flutter, and the cloud returned with a vengeance.

"I am perfectly aware of that, thank you."

"Just..." Onthyes sighed. "I know you don't care for me much but I want you to know that you can talk to me. I want to help you."

Ventis shook his head, sitting heavily on the bed. "It is... inconsequential. Trivial"

"Not to me."

There was a long pause. Onthyes allowed the silence; allowed Ventis to marinate. The lack of a total ice-out from him was promising.

"I do not care that they hurt me. I have been hurt before." A shuddering breath. "But I have never thought myself to be ugly."

Ventis's fingers traced a bandaged spot on his other arm where there was once a patch of scales.

"They took something from me that I did not know was important until it was gone. I take pride in my appearance - out of vanity, yes - but also because it is a reminder of who I am and where I came from. Someone looked at me, found something about me to be beautiful, and then took it away from me. I feel... used."

Onthyes listened quietly, his heart aching for the vulnerability Ventis was revealing. He could sense the storm of emotions raging within the genasi: anger, hurt, and a raw sense of violation. He touched Ventis's shoulder slowly, giving him plenty of time to pull away. "You're still beautiful."

Ventis shrugged. "I know. As I said, my sadness is frivolous."

"It's not frivolous. Your beauty goes beyond the way you look. It's in your charm, your intelligence, the way you carry yourself. And your heart." Onthyes's eyes flicked to the missing heart shaped scale just behind Ventis's ear.

Ventis leaned into Onthyes's shoulder, taking him by surprise. "Thank you," he whispered. "I do appreciate your attempt at consolation. I just... I need time."

Onthyes stayed there quietly until Ventis moved on his own and slid under the blankets. He knew that Ventis was not just upset about the change in his appearance. It was about the violation he experienced; the loss of control. But there was nothing that Onthyes could do about it other than offer space and support where it was needed.

He joined Ventis under the blankets. The genasi's eyes were closed and his breaths were steady, but the breeze still swirling around the room indicated that he was still conscious.

"Sleep well," Onthyes whispered.

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ventisposting taglist (aka a list of people who i want to bake cookies for):

@scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff

[francesminos-tt]

https://www.tumblr.com/francesminos-tt/734607856681254912/can-you-write-some-joffron-with-lactation-kink

🥵🥵🥵🥵😋😋😋😩😩😩

Minos!!!!! i loved what you wrote about joffdaeron kink lactation, painful and hot!!! I know that you are busy, but when you can, write jealous Daeron, please :) just to feed my mind that has become obsessed with their dynamic.

in your vision of nuhon universe

Rhaenys’s egg hatched in the middle of the night. Joffrey was startled awake by a piercing scream. It only took him one second to realize the scream came from his daughter. He rolled off the bed immediately and rushed to the cradle in the corner of the room. He always slept in the same room with Rhaenys, for his pheromones could calm the baby and help her fall asleep faster. Rhaenys was not a difficult baby; she seldom made any fuss since she had been well-fed. What could make her scream like this in the middle of the night?

Joffrey looked into the cradle with his heart in his throat. Little Rhaenys had kicked off her soft blanket, silver hair plastered on her sweaty forehead. She was short of breath, her cheeks pink, as if having a fever. Joffrey brushed the hair off her face before feeling the baby’s temperature with the back of his hand. She was sweating, but didn't feel too warm. Joffrey was so focused on his daughter that he failed to notice another creature moving in the cradle.

A newborn whelp twitched under the blanket as it struggled desperately to break free. It wasn’t until he heard a sharp shriek did Joffrey realize what had caused Rhaenys to scream earlier.

The egg that Daeron had brought back from Driftmark hatched. Rhaenys had her own dragon now.

“What is the noise? Is Rhaenys all right?” A tall figure in a thin nightshirt barged in the room. Joffrey could tell from the panicked pheromone that the person was none other than his husband.

“Shh, quiet. You will wake her up again.” Joffrey took the baby into his arms before turning to face his husband. Daeron looked more distorted than he had expected. He had never seen Daeron in such a panicked state.

“Why was she screaming?” Daeron came to Joffrey’s side in three long strides, “Is she sick?”

“No.” Joffrey replied softly, cooing the small child in his arms, “She’s perfectly fine.”

“Then why was she-” Daeron stopped mid-sentence as he noticed the small bump in the cradle. A small whelp was spreading its wings, the translucent membrane shimmering in the moonlight.

“Her egg hatched.” Joffrey said proudly, “Rhaenys has a cradle mate now.”

Daeron had to cover his mouth to prevent himself from crying out like a baby. He always envied his nephews to have their respective whelps as cradle mates, Vermax, Arrax and Tyraxes, each whelp following its riders like a royal friend. Daeron had claimed Tesserion at a young age. Unlike his nephews’ whelps, Tesserion was a fully grown dragon, so he really had no reason to envy them. Yet, still, he always felt inadequate in terms of bond with a dragon. Tess was like a royal friend, but never a sibling. Daeron wanted nothing more than a sibling who was connected to him by blood in his days at Old Town. He valued the connection of blood more than anything, and in extension, valued the bond between rider and dragon as well. That was why he had rushed to Driftmark to choose an egg for his daughter. He wanted Rhaenys to have the bond that he never had the chance to have.

Joffrey sighed internally at Daeron’s expression. He didn’t see why his husband had to make such a fuss about Rhaenys’s dragon hatching. To him, having a cradle mate was just a natural growing process, like growing a baby tooth or gaining an inch or two. Joffrey never had any doubt that Rhaenys’s egg would hatch. He was planning to go into the Dragon Mount himself and choose an egg for her, but Daeron beat him to it. Joffrey was an understanding husband, so he put the egg Daeron brought back from Driftmark in his pup’s cradle, even though he didn’t want to be reminded of the affection his husband held for that island.

“We need to send out words to King’s Landing, Driftmark, Old Town and all other castles in the realm. We need to celebrate, Joffrey! I am going to hold a grand tourney for our pup!” After the initial shock, Daeron immediately set out to inform the world of the good news. He was circling the room, his handsome face filled of pride and excitement, “Where is the maester? Tell him to get the ravens ready!”

Joffrey’s mood soured at the word tourney. He would let Daeron do anything, as long as his husband could leave him alone, but the last thing he wanted was a tourney.

“No, wait! Let’s just inform mother, okay? It’s too soon to consider celebrations now.” Joffrey placed Rhaenys back into the cradle before grabbing Daeron’s sleeve, “Just calm down. You are waking up the whole castle.”

“They should be awake to hear the good news.” Daeron insisted. He could be incredibly bratty and inconsiderate at times.

“It’s no big deal.” Joffrey held Daeron’s forearm firmly to stop the alpha from doing anything stupid, “Go back to sleep. We can send out the ravens in the morning.”

“That will be too late! I need to prepare for the tourney first thing tomorrow.” Daeron said. He would have yanked his arm free from Joffrey if he were the man six months ago, but he had learned to respect Joffrey enough to stop dismissing the omega’s opinion.

“There is no need for a tourney.” Joffrey replied, “Throw a party or anything else you want, but no tourneys.”

“What’ your problem with tourneys? Do you think I can’t win and give our daughter the honor she deserves?” Daeron frowned at Joffrey’ words. To him, there was nothing more honorable than having a tourney thrown in her name and being crowned as the queen of love and beauty for a princess.

Joffrey went silent. Daeron had been living on Dragonstone for quite a while now, and had been carrying out his parental responsibility perfectly, but Joffrey wasn’t fooled. Perhaps Daeron had learned to love and care for Rhaenys, but Joffrey was sure he was not the subject of Daeron’s affections. He had no doubt that Daeron would crown little Rhaenys as the queen of love and beauty, but he was sure that his husband would not ask for his favor when fighting for their daughter’s honor.

Joffrey would never forget the first tourney he attended after his betrothal to Daeron had been finalized. He was a freshly bloomed omega, and a betrothed one, so naturally he was expected to give his favor to his betrothed. However, that chance never happened. Instead of asking for his favor, Daeron rode past him without even throwing him a side glance. Daeron had asked for his brother Lucerys’s favor, since Aemond was still recovering from his war wounds, thus could not competing in the tourney. The crowd didn’t seem to care how humiliated Joffrey felt, just as they never really cared for the third son of the queen, a son with common features but no titles and no inheritance.

“I know you are a good fighter and you love Rhaenys.” Joffrey said after a long pause. He didn’t elaborate more, for admitting he had been hurt by Daeron’s ignorance meant weakness.

“Then a tourney we shall have!” Daeron sounded genuinely happy, which made Joffrey wonder if he was doing this so that he could have a chance to see Lucerys again.

Daeron cupped Joffrey’s face in his hands and kissed the omega on the lips.

“Our daughter will be a formidable dragon rider,” the alpha said against Joffrey’s lips, his breath hot on Joffrey’s skin, “I am sure of it.”

Daeron was gone before Joffrey could react. Joffrey heard footsteps disappearing down the hall, with his husband shouting for a maester to send out ravens, the feeling of Daeron’s lips lingering on his own.

It turned out that most people shared Daeron’s thoughts. Rhaenyra flew to Dragonstone on Syrax the next day, sweeping Joffrey into a crushing hug as soon as her feet touched the ground. Lucerys and Aemond followed, then Baela and Rhaena, and finally Jacaerys. The whole royal court gathered on Dragonstone to celebrate the new dragon rider, with feasts, parties, hunting trips and a grand tourney.

“You are a hard man to find, Prince Joffrey.” A young man with short silver curls and dark skin greeted Joffrey as the omega jumped off Tyraxes.

Joffrey brushed the wind-swept hair from his face, taking a sharp inhale and squinted his eyes.

“Addam?” Joffrey recognized the young man as soon as his vision refocused. Addam Hull had made a name of himself for claiming the dragon Seasmoke, despite his bastard status. Joffrey had heard of the bastard rider from Hull, but he hadn’t expected Addam to be such a charming alpha.

Addam flashed a charming smile. He was in a set of sea blue riding gear, the Velaryon color complimenting his skin tone so well that he looked more regal than Joffrey did.

“What’s your business?” Joffrey asked, perhaps a little harshly but he was too confused to care. Addam had come to Dragonstone as one of Lucerys’s entourage. He and Joffrey had nothing in common except that they both had a dragon. What could he possibly want?

“I want to make personal acquaintance with you, Prince Joffrey.” Addam bowed slightly, “I have heard so much about you and your excellent flying skills.”

From whom? Joffrey wanted to ask, but stopped himself before the words could leave his mouth.

“You flatter me, Ser Addam.” Joffrey said in his politest tone, “I am hardly a decent rider. I am sure you have seen plenty of dragon riders more skilled than me on Driftmark. My uncle Aemond, for example. He rides the largest dragon alive.”

“Yes, Vaghar is indeed very impressive,” Addam nodded before adding, “but I am more interested in you and your dragon.”

“May I ask why?” Joffrey turned to Tyraxes and patted the black drake on the neck affectionately.

“I have heard that Tyraxes is the fastest dragon alive. Seasmoke is known for its swiftness too, so I think I might learn a trick or two from you.” Addam said, his violet eyes gentle and sincere.

To be honest, Joffrey wasn’t so impressed by Ser Addam Hull. Addam was polite and agreeable by the look of it, and a decent fighter if the rumors were true, but every time Joffrey heard a tale about the bastard rider, his heart always prickled with annoyance. Despite being a bastard, Addam looked every bit of a Velaryon, silver hair, dark skin, and violet eyes. Joffrey, a true prince and a true Velaryon, had dark hair and dark eyes. He knew he shouldn’t and needn’t be bothered by it, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Tyraxes only earns the name because Arrax died above Shipbreaker’s Bay.” Joffrey said coldly as he turned to leave, “You asked the wrong person for flying lessons, Ser Addam.”

“Also, I want to know what kind of a terrible omega you are for your husband to leave you behind.”

Joffrey stopped abruptly, Addam’s words like a blunt blow to his stomach. He tried his best to hide his strained relationship with Daeron, and he thought he had done a great job because no one had suspected anything so far, not even Lucerys. How could this stranger see through his façade?

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“You know, I trained with Prince Daeron almost every day on Driftmark. I could smell a hint of omega scent on him, herbal, bitter, but very refreshing. I always wonder, why does he never mention his omega to anyone? Is Prince Joffrey too bad of an omega that even his own husband can’t bear to live with him?”

Addam had come so close at some point that Joffrey could feel the alpha’s breath on his neck.

“Is your curiosity satisfied?” Joffrey took a step away from Addam and asked defensively.

“No.” Addam replied honestly, “If anything, my curiosity only grows. You are very beautiful, Prince Joffrey, not as beautiful as your brother of course, but beautiful on your own. Your flying skills are impressive and you have a special bond with your dragon. You smell nice, too. I don’t know what keeps your husband away from you.”

Addam reached out to tuck a strand of dark curls behind Joffrey’s ear, revealing the smooth line of the omega’s jaw. His fingertip brushed against Joffrey’s skin ever so slightly that it was impossible to tell if it was an accident or on purpose.

“My relationship with my husband has nothing to do with you.” Joffrey yanked off Addam’s hand, “I don’t know what you want, but you are not going to get it from me.”

“Am I?” Addam smiled, the previous politeness replaced with something unreadable, “Perhaps it is too early to draw a conclusion, my prince.”

Joffrey knew he had to leave when strong alpha pheromones hit him like a hurricane. He shouldn’t be affected by other alpha’s pheromones since he was already mated, but his bond with Daeron was too weak to fend off predator alphas like Addam.

“Good night, Ser Addam.” Joffrey muttered under his breath before fleeing the scene.

Joffrey seriously considered leaving his favor behind when he was about to attend the tourney. He dressed in Targaryen red and black, a high collar dress to hide the bite marks on his breast. Those bite marks were not inflicted by his pup, but his husband. Daeron seemed to have grown a fetish of his breast, always kneading, kissing and biting them whenever they had sex.

No, now was not the time to recall this. Joffrey shook his head in an attempt to get rid of the shameful scenes from his mind. He and Daeron had more sex in the past month than they had in their entire marriage. Daeron kept visiting his chamber even after Joffrey’s heat had ended. Joffrey was confused, for he knew he wasn’t appealing enough for his husband, but he soon dismissed Daeron’s unusual behavior as alpha instinct. He accommodated Daeron’s needs as best as he could, but Joffrey always thought Daeron would stop after the novelty wore off.

The old maid helped him with his dress before placing Rhaenys into his arms. Joffrey took the small token with him eventually even though he knew no one would ask for it.

The crowd let out a deafening cheer when Joffrey arrived.

“You seem to have done a great job managing Dragonstone.” Rhaenyra said to him as Joffrey took a seat beside her, “The residents love their lord and his daughter.”

“I am not their lord, mother,” Joffrey replied, a little embarrassed, “I just live in the castle. I am not Prince of Dragonstone.”

“You are doing the prince’s job.” Rhaenyra insisted, “How is my granddaughter doing today?”

“I fed her this morning. She should be okay.” Joffrey pulled off the lace veil and showed the baby to the queen, “She’s not a difficult child.”

“She’s so cute.” Lucerys spoke from the other side of Rhaenyra, “She doesn’t fear the crowd. She will be a brave dragon rider like her namesake.”

Joffrey shared a smile with his omega brother. No matter what Daeron felt for Lucerys, Joffrey always respected his brother. Lucerys was beautiful, smart, brave and strong-willed; Driftmark could not have a better Lord of the Tides.

The tourney began with a loud drum. The knights rode around the tourney ground in line, all in shining armor. Joffrey noticed Daeron immediately. His husband wore a set of armor adorned with Targaryen black and Hightower green, a long sword hanging from his waist. He looked formidable on his white horse, his silver hair shining under the sun.

Joffrey forced himself to look away. No matter how handsomely Daeron dressed, it had nothing to do with him. The knights rode toward the stand to ask for favors, and Joffrey took this opportunity to look down. He focused his attention entirely on Rhaenys, trying his best to ignore the crowd’s cheering and laughter at new gossip materials.

“Prince Joffrey.” Someone called his name; Joffrey was jolted awake from his train of negative thoughts. He looked up, only to find a handsome face smiling at him.

“Could I have your blessing, Prince Joffrey?” Addam Hull asked, resting his long lance on the stand, the pointy head just next to Joffrey’s hand.

Joffrey had never expected Addam would ask for his favor. In fact, he never expected anyone would. His husband wouldn’t, obviously.

“I am asking for your favor, my prince.” Addam asked again, all chivalrous and polite, “May I have the honor of fighting for you?”

If he refused, it would definitely look bad for Addam. Joffrey didn’t care about Addam’s reputation, but the bastard rider was from Driftmark. Would Lucerys be embarrassed if Joffrey openly refused someone from his land?

“Prince Joffrey, please.” Addam pressed.

Joffrey hesitated for a moment before reaching inside his dress for the small wreath he used as his favor. He decided that it was better not to dishonor anyone from Driftmark. Daeron would probably blame him for making Lucerys look bad if Joffrey refused Addam’s request.

“I wish you the best, Ser Addam.” Joffrey said, sliding the wreath on Addam’s lance.

“Thank you, my prince.”

The crowd whispered among themselves, but Joffrey paid them no mind. He only needed to save Lucerys’s face, not his own. The knights continued to march, and soon it was Daeron’s turn. Not surprisingly, Daeron rode past Joffrey without sparing him a look. Daeron’s lips were tightly pressed into a thin line, his jaw set and he was grabbing the lance so tight that his knuckles turned white. It didn’t take a genius to know that he was angry.

But why? Because Aemond had already asked for Lucerys’s favor? Daeron should have seen it coming. Why was he acting like a spoiled child?

Daeron asked for his sister Helaena’s favor, which, in Joffrey’s opinion, was a safe choice. Daeron rode off the stand without looking back. He never looked in Joffrey’s direction the entire first day of the tourney and the evening feast.

When the feast ended, Daeron went back to his own room and slammed the door shut with a loud bang. Joffrey only shrugged and went to put Rhaenys to bed. He had already fed the baby before the feast, now he only needed to wash her face and feet before placing her into the cradle. Joffrey had just finished changing Rhaenys into a cute lace sleeping gown when the door to his bedroom was pushed open abruptly.

“What’s your problem?” Joffrey frowned, “You will startle her.”

Daeron made no answer. He had already taken off his jacket and vest, now only in an inner shirt, his sweaty chest glistening in the candlelight. He walked quickly to Joffrey and took the baby from the omega, placing Rhaenys down and grabbing Joffrey’s wrist with incredible force.

“Let go of me! It hurts!” Joffrey hissed, “Are you drunk or something?”

Daeron remained silent, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he dragged Joffrey out of the bedroom and into their shared quarter, pushing the omega to the lavish couch in the middle.

“What’s your problem?” Joffrey asked angrily, rubbing his wrist that had already gone red.

“What’s my problem? I could ask you the same thing.” Daeron was on Joffrey in an instant, trapping the omega between himself and the couch, “Why did you give your favor to that bastard?”

Joffrey had expected a lot of accusations from Daeron, failing to entertain all the guests, failing to act like an obedient omega, getting in Daeron’s way to interact with Lucerys, etc., but he had never expected this. Joffrey thought he had done the right thing. Driftmark received the best honor, didn’t it? Joffrey just showed how important Driftmark, and by extension, Lord of the Tides was. Why was Daeron still angry?

“Addam? What’s wrong with him?”

“You gave your favor to him, a bastard! You don’t see anything inappropriate in it?”

Joffrey bit his lower lip, his own anger slowly building.

“People called me a bastard too. If I remember correctly, you were one of them.” Joffrey retorted, “Do you think Addam doesn’t deserve a favor because he is a bastard?”

“No!” Daeron sounded frustrated, “I don’t give a damn about him being a bastard or not. I am asking why did you, my mate, give your favor to a stranger?”

“I can give my favor to anyone I want.” Joffrey tried to break free of Daeron’s restrain, “I don’t know who made you angry, but don’t act out your anger on me. I am not your punching bag.”

“You rather gave your favor to him, but not me?” Daeron lowered his voice, his light violet eyes fixed on Joffrey, his gaze so intense that it was about to set Joffrey on fire. It was clear that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Why do you care? You are not going to ask for my favor anyway. I am actually glad Addam asked. He saved me from looking like a fool.” Joffrey pushed Daeron’s chest, but the alpha didn’t move an inch.

“Who said I don’t want your favor? Your favor is the only thing that matters.” Daeron grabbed Joffrey’s cheek, forcing the omega to meet his eyes, “Who told you such lie? I am going to kill the fucking liar and feed them to my dragon.”

“You want my favor?” Joffrey’s eyes widened in surprise, “But, you ignored me that time after our betrothal. You rode right past me and asked Lucerys. I thought you didn’t want me-”

The remaining of Joffrey’s sentence was drunk up by Daeron’s lips. The alpha crushed their lips together, kissing Joffrey with such desperation that as if his life depended on it.

Joffrey’s body reacted immediately; a tingling sensation rushed from his tailbone to the back of his head, his pussy twitched as slick began to leak out. He was so used to Daeron’s intimacy that his body reacted on its own. Joffrey let out a muffled moan as Daeron’s hand slip into his dress.

“You have no idea how I felt the entire day.” Daeron whispered in Joffrey’s ear as he nibbled the omega’s earlobe, “I was almost burned to ash by jealousy. I wanted to cut off Addam’s tongue for asking for your favor. I wanted to gauge his eyes out for looking at you. I wanted to keep you inside a box and carry you around so you can never leave.”

“I never know you are a jealous lover.” Joffrey admitted, tilting his head to give Daeron more access.

“I have never felt like this before.” Daeron kissed the pulsing veins on Joffrey’s neck, feeling the beating of the omega’s heart under his lips, “I am scared of myself for having so many dirty thoughts.”

“Not even for Lucerys?” Joffrey asked, his voice so soft as if he feared the answer.

“No,” Daeron answered honestly, “I have never felt such strong emotion towards anyone else. You are the first, Joffrey.”

Joffrey didn’t want to admit that his heart danced at Daeron’s words. He had long accepted the fact that he could never be the special one. He had made peace with himself and decided to be the shadowed sibling, so it felt incredible to have someone treat him as if he could not be replaced.

“What’s wrong, Joff? Why are you crying?” Daeron panicked to see a single drop of tear sliding down Joffrey’s cheek, “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” Joffrey was too embarrassed to look Daeron in the eye, “Sorry, I am just being emotional. Must be the omega pheromones. I never thought anyone would treat me specifically, let alone you.”

Daeron’s heart swelled at Joffrey’s rare show of weakness.

“I will remind you every day that you are special from now on until you accept the fact.”

“You might have a long way to go.” Joffrey chuckled.

“I have all the time in the world.” Daeron replied, kissing Joffrey again as he parted the omega’s legs.

[cassiyuhh]

hiii I was reading a little bit of your work and I liked it a lot, I read it from Rhaenyra's child (and Daemon's aparendly too) and I would like to make a headcanon request about Damon confirming that he is the dad of the reader and how Aemond would react when they tell that secret, please? Thanks for your work! ♡

Authors note:thank you so much for this ask!!and i hope you have a nice day,and just thank you for reading my first ever story i was really unsure if i wanted to post it but thank you so much!

Part 2 of Aemond Targaryen x reader headcanon

•the only reason you were on driftmark was to pay your respects to your dead aunt,and to her family,nothing else but it seemed that fate didnt want to give you peace

•the only thing you wanted to do was go to sleep but your brothers decided to wake you since your cousins told them that someone had stolen vhagar

•during your quest to finding who "stole" vhagar with your brothers and your cousins you discovered aemond was the culprit

•then everybody started fighting,and then even you had been hit by a rock on the head,but none had suffered more than aemond after your brother lucerys had cut his eye out but luckily you had alerted ser Harrold and he brought aemond to a maester who was able heal his wound but aemond was told that his eye would never come back

•alicent decided to take your brother's eye out herself after being denied by the king to take one of your brother lucerys eyes out

•but luckily your mother rhaenyra was there to stop her,during the commotion alicent had snapped at her saying "are your children really your husband's?! " people didn't register or noticed what she said because they were to busy with the fact alicent was trying to hurt your mother the heir

•but there were a few people who noticed what she had said such as you,your brother's,aemond,daemon ,and sir cole

•when everything had calmed down and everyone had gone back to bed you went to your brother's room where you saw that they couldn't sleep too so all three of you decided to sleep together in the same bed not wanting to be separated from each other after what happened earlier, but you still couldn't stop thinking about what alicent had said about you and your siblings

•it was morning when you were told about ser Laenor your father's death,you were sad because despite of the rumors about you and your siblings not being fathered by ser Laenor he treated you as if you were his own

•you were then summoned by your mother, when arriving you had ask her about your paternity and then she told you everything about the fact that daemon the rogue prince was your father to add fuel to the fire daemon it was the best time to introduce himself as your father,you didn't want to be in their presence right now since you felt betrayed and conflicted so you decided to run away from them

•daemon after seeing you run away from them wanted to go after you but rhaenyra reasoned with him that you needed time and space alone to better process the information and said that you will eventually come around

• while running away from them you had bumped into rhaena,she had asked you what was the matter upon seeing your distressed expression,you couldn't take it anymore so you told her everything about the fact that you were a bastard,but despite this rhaena offered nothing but kindness and didn't judge you for it wasn't your for fault for being the product of rhaenyra and daemon

•you were happy bonding rhaena and getting to know her but upon entering the great hall in the castle of driftmark you had noticed that your grandfather king viserys was announcing your marriage to aemond whom you didn't want to think about

•feeling distressed you decide again to run away but this aemond saw you and decided to run after you

•while running away you decided to go to your dragon vhaltrax despite not hatching from your cradle vhaltrax was your most trusted companion and treated as she were your own child but before you could reach her aemond catch upped to you and started apologizing for what he said to you but you were hearing none of it and snapped at him saying that you wanted nothing to do with him after he called your brother's bastards and also for the fact that not only did he hurt you and your brother's but your sisters too

•horrified upon hearing this aemond profusely started apologizing to you saying how much he didn't want you to turn your back on him,confessing to you that he didn't care if the seven kingdoms burnt to ashes as long as you were there with him,saying he couldn't bear if you hated him and him telling that the only reason he claimed a dragon was to protect you

•reluctantly you had accepted his apology and befriended him again,but warned him if he ever were to hurt your family again you wouldn't hesitate to leave him and he promised to never do that fearing what might happen.

•moments after your reconciliation you had told him about what you had discovered;that you were a bastard or atleast that was what you thought of yourself somewhat,aemond upon hearing this confession wasn't really that surprised since he too had heard about rumors of your paternity,but nevertheless told you that he didn't care about your paternity saying that he still would love you nonetheless and that nothing would change how he would feel about you

[rhaenaspearls]

Too Sweet

(Closed starter for @jonswann)

Being up in the clouds was a feeling Rhaena knew would never lose it's novelty. When she was little her mother, Laena, would recount the story of taking her and her older twin sister, Baela, up on dragon back when they were less than a moon old and how they giggled the entire flight. Though the egg from their mother's dragon, Vhagar, that was placed in Baela's cradle hatched into her mount, Moondancer, and Rhaena herself only became a dragon rider when she claimed Silverwing—first bonded to Good Queen Alysanne and riderless for nearly forty years between them—there could be no doubt that their mother and father's love for riding had passed equally to both twins. After a long descent spent indulging in the view of the Red Keep and the richest, most beautiful part of King's Landing that stretched around it all the way down the path to the Dragon Pit, Silverwing finally came to land with a thud. There was a certain sense of pride Rhaena was never quite willing to suppress that she had claimed one of the five largest dragons still alive today; dwarfed only by Vhagar and Vermithor and slimmer, but longer from snout to tail, than her cousin Princess Helaena's mount, Dreamfyre.

Silverwing was characteristically unconcerned as the dragon keepers approached, any anxiety she may have held towards being shepherded back into the subterranean dens evaporating into the late Spring air as Rhaena wrapped her arms around the beast's muzzle and cuddled her head against her snout. The dragon let out a pleased sound, somewhere in the middle between a cat's purr and rolling thunder and nuzzled her rider in return, making Rhaena glad she had twisted her braids into two buns so they wouldn't be messed by either the wind during their ride or her mount's affections. After a few moments she let her go, and Silverwing seemed to droop at the realization she was leaving for the day, which immediately caused Rhaena's heart to do the same. "Oh sweet girl! You'll be alright, we have guests, I have to go help greet them and tend to our friends as I do you," As she explained the situation in High Valyrian, the dragon's eyes widened, seeming to question her, and Rhaena nodded sagely, "I shall be back on the morrow, you know I always am." And with that Silverwing slinked off contentedly back to her den and Rhaena began striding back out towards the Pit's entrance.

She was contemplating walking back to the keep, rather than sending for a litter, it was a truly lovely day, and she knew that as the seasons were beginning to shift after the luck they'd had with this Spring that's lasted over a year, it would soon be to hot to do so comfortably. In truth, she also got a bit of a thrill whenever a chance presented itself to go anywhere on foot in her riding habit, a blush pink coat-dress studded with pearls and detailed with black and silver scale designs that split to allow for riding trousers and boots which allowed for greater comfort on dragon saddle; a gift for when she came of age three years ago from her grandmother, Princess Rhaenys. Baela had gotten a saddle as counterpart, and their father, Prince Daemon, had gifted Rhaena a similar, pink-toned one, and Baela her own new riding leathers to complete the set. A matched set, just like so many parts of their lives, although Rhaena had never minded being part of a pair when the other half was her sister. She loved her gowns, she loved balls and garden parties, jewels, looking, and feeling beautiful, and she loved that in her riding habit she could feel a spark of that fire in her chest that Baela seemed to radiate in every direction.

As Rhaena was leaving the front gates however, she was distracted by a man she did not recognize. He was well-groomed, but not overly so, and dressed in well-made but somewhat plain looking clothes, with dark hair and eyes and a long face that signaled he was likely from the Stormlands; though he could perhaps be a mildly pale Dornishman with his distinctive nose and remarkable stature. He was looking, no, inspecting the High Valyrian carved into the arch around the Dragon Pit's gates, and while a stranger's presence at the entrance to such a sacred space for her family was enough to pique her interest, his interest in the language only a handful of people outside her family she'd ever met could speak had her positively itching to question the man.

"Hello, Ser! I don't believe we've been introduced," Rhaena strode up to him confidently, but gracefully, with a warm, gentle smile across her face. Her mother and stepmother had always echoed that the best way to disarm someone was with equal parts charm and cheer and such advice had never led her astray. "You may call me Lady Rhaena! Do I have the pleasure of acquainting myself with another speaker of High Valyrian?" Her smile grew even wider then, "Or perhaps, someone eager to learn?

[navree]

Do you have any headcanons for our golden boi sunfyre ? 🥺

Sunfyre my beloved I'm so sorry all this happened to you in my perfect world absolutely nothing goes wrong with him whatsoever and he gets to live a long and happy life being the prettiest boy in all of Planetos.

I think it's, like, basically canon but technically not confirmed, that Sunfyre is a hatchling from Dreamfyre, given the name similarities and the fact that Dreamfyre is much older (my pet theory is that Sunfyre's egg is Thee Egg that Rhaenyra chose for Baby Baelon and that Daemon subsequently stole).

Sunfyre was not a cradle hatchling. It appears that none of the (on screen) Hightower-Targaryen children had cradle hatchlings (given that Helaena claimed an already old dragon between episodes 6 and 7 and Aemond of course claimed the oldest dragon), either because none of their eggs hatched or Alicent just wasn't placing eggs in their cradles for it. Around when Aegon was two or three, still very young, he somehow got his hands on Sunfyre's egg, and soon after Sunfyre hatched. Sunfyre has never known a life without Aegon in it, and Aegon barely remembers a time where he didn't have Sunfyre. They practically grew up together, though Sunfyre at a much quicker rate.

Seeing as dragons are meant to have an intelligence level on par with humans (even tho ASOIAF and all related media kinda seems to forget that and has relegated them to the role of "cats" but with nukes attached), Sunfyre is aware that he is The Hot Girl. Sunfyre is ridiculously vain, any time he's flying with Aegon on him to command him, he's primping and preening and deliberately flying into as much sun exposure as he can so everyone can see the glint of gold off his scales.

Sunfyre and Aegon are ridiculously close. Far closer than any other dragon and their rider that we've seen in the entire franchise. Yes, even closer than Dany and her children (Dany would have won out but being the first person to raise dragons in over a century means that she clearly doesn't have the right tools for it which is why the kids get rascally in ADWD in a way we didn't see at the Targaryen peak). Like, however close you think they are because of the canon stuff (Aegon's grief when he died, Sunfyre literally dragging his broken body to Dragonstone because he sensed Aegon was there and needed him, all that horrible stuff), that's the tip of the iceberg. They're close not just emotionally but honestly to the point where it's almost like they have a psychic bond. It's rare that Aegon even needs to speak commands verbally, he and Sunfyre know each other incredibly well, almost as if they can literally just sense what's in each other's heads, feel each other's emotions incredibly keenly (that thing dragons and dragonriders have where they can physically feel each other's pain, but multiply it by one thousand). It's borderline mystical, especially when factoring in that both Aegon and Sunfyre only seem to start really recovering from their respective Rook's Rest wounds after they've been reunited on Dragonstone, as if they literally needed each other's presence in order to heal.

Stolen from Twitter (can't remember which account but I saw it and I wept like a baby): Aegon sings to Sunfyre sometimes. Sunfyre really, really likes it. Like, basically turns into a huge overgrown kitten when that happens, tries to get all cuddly even though he knows that Aegon's too small for it now that he's gotten big.

Sunfyre does have a certain amount of affection that extends to other members of Aegon's family, his mother and siblings in particular, and even to their dragons. Yes, even Vhagar. Doesn't matter that she's ancient and bigger and dragon mee-maw, he'll still go into attack mode if someone attempts to fuck her up. Also, a bit cracky considering we don't technically know the full mental faculties of dragons, but he's closest to Tessarion, given that they're closer in age and also Daeron's apparently a natural sweetheart and that temperament might extend to Tessarion as well. (Addendum to this: Sunfyre spent a lot of time flying with Aemond and Vhagar when Aemond was recovering. Not even just when Aegon was babysitting and making sure Aemond wasn't at risk, but literally just if he was out around the same time as Aemond and Vhagar, he hovered a lot, just to be sure. Aemond has never talked about it but he thinks of it sometimes, when he sees Aegon drunk and wet eyed and feels that twinge of disgust and envy that he tries to push down, when he remembers there's more to Aegon than seen by the naked eye)

This is less about Sunfyre himself and more about his relationship with Aegon, but the bond Sunfyre and Aegon have was Aegon's first real taste of feeling unconditional and requited love. The bond with Sunfyre was the first time in his life Aegon felt that the love he was giving out was being returned to him, and that he wasn't at risk of losing it, the way he's afraid he's done with his siblings and with Alicent. It's why, even above everything else they share, Sunfyre is so important to him, and why he's gutted and griefstricken to the point of kinslaying when Sunfyre dies.

Aegon calls Sunfyre almost primarily by pet names, even when giving verbal commands. And like, really intimate pet names, the kind of pet names you save for, like, your kids. He calls him "sweetling" and "my darling" and "golden boy" and things of that sort all.the.time. Why do I think this? Because my brain spat "Sunfyre sniffs at the blood in the air. Aegon knows now is when he says the word, the fateful word, but he cannot speak through his heart pounding in his throat. Kill her, beloved, he thinks. Kill her for what her ambition did to us. To you. Even to me. Sunfyre shifts, and a keening growl rumbles low in his ruined chest." out at me and I have not known peace since.

When Sunfyre was still small enough and Aegon's siblings and Hell, even the Strong kids were still little, they all adored Sunfyre. They coddled him relentlessly and basically cooed over him 24/7, and both Aegon and Sunfyre were absolutely thrilled with it. Even when down in the Dragonpit with them, before shit started going sideways when some people had dragons and others didn't and the bullying and all, Sunfyre would still put on a bit of a show (as I said, vain) before Aegon would make him behave, which was Aegon's own version of his own show in displaying the bond and mastery he and Sunfyre have with each other.

Aegon had Sunfyre's skull prepped to line the walls of the throne room in accordance to House Targaryen traditions. Aegon III did take it down eventually (obviously, given the memory association), but he only took it down after Alicent Hightower had died and that last shredding of her children's legacy wouldn't hurt her anymore.