#tom glynn carney drabble

[moonlightrafe]

The Albatross

summary: Originally an unlikely match, you give birth to Aegon’s first child and his entire world changes.

pairing: Aegon x Strong!Reader

word count: 767

warnings: Description of pain & childbirth, brief mention of blood, guilt.

note: “Albatross” is used metaphorically as a psychological burden dealing with shame or guilt! (and shout out to Taylor Swift)

Aegon wanted to hate you. He wanted to hate your hair and your eyes. Your thick eyelashes, the freckles that dusted your cheeks, the way your nose scrunched when you laughed. Despite wanting to hate you in your entirety, he found himself physically incapable of doing so. As a young boy he refused to admit it, even going so far as to tease you for your features — but he thought you were beautiful. If anything, you could’ve resembled his mother more than a Targaryen.

It wasn’t your features that were wrong, but who you inherited them from; you and your brother’s served as living, breathing reminders of Rhaenyra’s infidelity.

Alicent Hightower had been sure to remind him and his siblings that you and your brothers were a product of their older sister's infidelity. An embarrassment to the family. An insult to the crown, to the realm. Abominations. Bastards.

Screams of pain shook the walls of the Red Keep.

“I can’t do this anymore, Aegon! Please make it stop, it hurts!” you rasped, clawing at the blood-soaked bedsheets. It had been almost 24 hours since your labors had begun. To everyone's surprise, Aegon had yet to leave your side.

“We’re almost there, my love. You’re doing a great job,” your husband encouraged as he placed a chaste kiss to your sweat-drenched forehead, which you only returned with a death glare.

“I cannot take it anymore! Just get it out! Cut it out if you have to!”

One of your handmaids tried to dab at your forehead with a cloth, but you gripped her hand forcefully.

Aegon gave her a sympathetic look as he got her out of your grasp, locking his fingers with yours.

“You know we can’t do that, my love. I will not risk losing you.”

You winced as your midwife slid a finger around the base of your opening. All day long you had been violated against your will. Childbirth was not only painful, but humiliating. For Aegon’s sake, you silently prayed the babe was a boy. You weren’t sure if you would be willing to go through this again.

“I can feel the head, your grace. Just a few more big pushes for me and the babe will be here.”

You groaned loudly, your teeth grinding together as another contraction wracked your frame. Pain radiated down your spine and into your groin. You felt like you were being ripped apart at the seams. Being eaten by Sunfyre seemed to be a more pleasant fate than this.

“You hear that? You’re almost done. You’re doing so good.”

You squeezed onto Aegon’s hand as hard as you could, pushing with all the strength in your body. The harder you pushed, the sooner it would be over. You needed it to be over. With a final push, your vision began to blur and your mind went blank.

Before you knew it, loud cries pulled you back to Earth, and coo’s from your handmaidens filled the room. You laid back with a sigh of relief.

Finally.

The handmaids quickly handed the babe to Aegon so you could get cleaned up.

“A girl,” she stated proudly, “and she looks just like you, my queen.”

“Like me?” You shot up.

“Lay back your grace, you need to relax,” she scolded you.

Throughout your pregnancy there was a fear in the back of your mind, that if the babe inherited your features that Aegon would be disappointed. Turns out, you couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Yes,” he chuckled, tears swelling in his eyes, “like you. She is absolutely beautiful.”

He placed the baby in your arms, smiling down at the two of you.

A wave of guilt had crashed over Aegon at the sight of his newborn daughter. As well as your initial reaction to her looks. Thinking about the torment you endured for those same features in a world full of violet eyes and snow-white hair. How could he have been so cruel to you for something so fickle?

He couldn’t help but think about Ser Harwin Strong. And the fact that he probably shared the same thoughts as him the first time he laid eyes on you as a babe. This baby was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and the thought of anyone making her believe anything else made his blood boil. He would simply not allow it. Anyone who even dare whisper a word regarding your daughters features would lose their tongue for it.

Although the responsibility of sitting the Iron Throne loomed heavy over Aegon’s head it wasn’t until this very moment that he had true reason to be motivated to rule: his new family

[br0kenangel]

“𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎 𝒶ℯℊℴ𝓃 𝓍 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇”

“𝒮ℯℯ𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓃ℊ 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸ℯ 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂ℯ”

The first time you saw him, the gardens were bathed in the soft golden light of late afternoon. You were gathering herbs for your potions, the fragrant leaves and flowers filling your basket. The quiet of the garden was interrupted by a rustling sound, and you looked up to see a tiny figure stumbling through the bushes. There he was, little Aegon, his silvery hair catching the sunlight like a halo. He had just started learning how to walk, his steps wobbly and uncertain. His tiny hands reached out to steady himself on the tall stalks of flowers as he made his way toward you. You sighed, a bit annoyed at the interruption. "Go away, little one," you muttered, waving your hand dismissively. "I'm busy." But the little prince was undeterred. He looked at you with wide, curious eyes, then tottered forward, his chubby legs working hard to close the distance. He tripped on a root and fell, but quickly pushed himself back up, determined to reach you. You huffed in exasperation and turned back to your herbs, pretending to ignore him. "Shoo, go find your nursemaid," you said, hoping he would lose interest and wander off. Instead, Aegon toddled right up to you and clung to your skirt with surprising strength. "Up!" he demanded, his voice a mix of frustration and determination. You looked down at him, your annoyance melting away as you saw the earnest look on his face. His violet eyes were bright with trust, and his small hands clung to your skirt as if he never wanted to let go. You couldn't help but smile. "Oh, all right," you said, bending down to scoop him up. "But just for a moment, mind you." As soon as you lifted him, Aegon wrapped his arms around your neck and buried his face in your shoulder, his giggles vibrating against your skin. His small body was warm and surprisingly comforting. "You're a stubborn little thing, aren't you?" you murmured, rubbing his back gently. He just laughed and nuzzled closer, making happy little sounds. You carried him over to a nearby tree and sat down, letting him settle in your lap. He looked up at you with a beaming smile, then pointed to a butterfly fluttering nearby. "Fly!" "Yes, a butterfly," you said, feeling a strange warmth in your heart. "It's very pretty, isn't it?" Aegon nodded, his eyes following the butterfly's every move. Then he looked back at you and patted your cheek with his small hand. "You p'etty." You couldn't help but laugh at that. "Flattery will get you everywhere, little prince." He giggled again, clearly delighted by your reaction. For a moment, you just sat there, holding him and enjoying the simple pleasure of his company. It was a small, unexpected moment of joy that made you realize how precious this little boy was.

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

[misswynters]

Hidden between takes (drabble)

Ewan mitchell x gn!reader

[a/n: tom glynn-carney also appears (my boy), ik it’s similar to the other one however this in has tom glynn-carney🩷

similar | off screen story

Ewan and you have been a couple for quite some time, having met each other at the set a film. As the dimly lit corridors of the set provided the perfect cover for stolen moments. You leaned against the cool stone wall, heart racing as you waited. The familiar sound of footsteps grew closer, and a shadowy figure emerged from around the corner."Ewan," you breathed, a smile tugging at your lips.

He grinned, his eyes lighting up as he closed the distance between you. "Hey, you."

Ewan pulled you into a quick but intense kiss, his hands cupping your face gently. The risk of being caught only added to the excitement of these secret rendezvous. You both knew the stakes were high—being co-stars meant keeping your relationship under wraps to avoid media frenzy and potential complications on set.

"I've missed you," Ewan murmured, his forehead resting against yours.

"I've missed you too," you replied, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "It feels like forever since we've had a moment alone."

He nodded, his expression softening. "It's been too long. But tonight, I have something special planned for us."

Before you could respond, the sound of voices echoed down the hall. Ewan stepped back, his demeanor shifting to professional in an instant. You quickly composed yourself, just in time for Tom Glynn-Carney to appear, a friendly smile on his face.

"Hey, there you are!" Tom greeted, glancing between you and Ewan. "I was looking for you both. Ready for the next scene?"

"Of course," you said, forcing a casual tone as you exchanged a quick glance with Ewan. "Let's go."

The three of you walked back to the set, the weight of your secret relationship hanging heavily between you and Ewan. As the scene unfolded, you found it increasingly difficult to focus. Tom's character was supposed to be your love interest on-screen, and playing those romantic scenes while your real feelings were directed at Ewan was a constant challenge.

Between takes, Tom approached you with a concerned expression. "You alright? You seem a bit distracted."

You gave him a reassuring smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside. "I'm fine, just a bit tired. It's been a long day."

He nodded, still looking slightly unconvinced. "If you need a break, just let me know. I can cover for you."

"Thanks, Tom. I appreciate it," you replied, genuinely touched by his kindness.

The day dragged on, each scene feeling like an eternity. By the time filming wrapped up, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. As you packed up your things, Ewan caught your eye from across the set, giving you a subtle nod. You knew what it meant—your special night awaited.

Later, in the privacy of Ewan's trailer, the tension melted away. He had set up a small picnic, complete with your favorite foods and a bottle of wine. Soft music played in the background, creating a cozy, intimate atmosphere.

"This is perfect," you said, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you settled next to Ewan.

He smiled, his hand finding yours. "I'm glad you like it. I thought we could use a little escape from everything."

As you enjoyed the evening together, you couldn't help but feel grateful for these moments. Being with Ewan made all the secrecy and complications worthwhile. You shared stories, laughter, and dreams for the future, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing moment.

Eventually, you found yourself lying in his arms, the warmth of his embrace making you feel safe and loved. "I wish we didn't have to hide," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," Ewan replied, his fingers gently stroking your hair. "But we'll figure it out. As long as we're together, we can handle anything."

You nodded, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to savor the comfort of his presence. For now, you would cherish these hidden secrets, finding solace in the moments you could steal away from prying eyes. And with Ewan by your side, you knew that love would always find a way.

[aemondwhoresworld]

ELOWEN’S SECOND VISIT

a drabble & part of: y/n, ewan and elowen mitchell

summary: elowen returns to the house of the dragon set with you and ewan, eagerly awaiting a reunion with her favorite “uncle” tom glynn-carney. while it’s her second visit, the experience is just as magical as the first, filled with love, warmth, and playful interactions with the cast. elowen’s bright energy lights up the set as she bonds with the actors and crew, especially her beloved uncle tom.

warning: english is not my first language. pure fluff, contains overwhelming amounts of cuteness.

Elowen’s excitement was palpable from the moment you mentioned she’d be visiting the set of House of the Dragon again. Her little feet barely touched the ground as she bounced around the house, eyes wide with anticipation. She clutched the small dragon plushie Ewan had given her from the last visit and couldn’t stop asking when she’d see “Uncle Tom” again. Tom Glynn-Carney, the actor who played Aegon Targaryen, had quickly become her favorite after their first meeting, much to Ewan’s playful chagrin.

You smiled as you gathered her things, watching as she practically danced around the living room in excitement. Ewan, already dressed and ready to go, leaned against the doorway with a grin, arms crossed. “She’s more excited than the first time,” he noted, glancing at you with a wink.

“I think it’s Uncle Tom’s doing,” you teased, shaking your head.

Ewan chuckled. “Of course it is. She’s his biggest fan.”

With Elowen finally ready and everything packed, the three of you made your way to the car. The entire drive to the set was filled with Elowen’s chatter about dragons, knights, and her favorite “pretend uncles.” She even hummed the House of the Dragon theme song as you drove, occasionally asking how much longer until she got to see Tom. You and Ewan exchanged amused glances but couldn’t help but get swept up in her enthusiasm.

When you finally arrived on set, Elowen’s excitement only intensified. The massive castle walls, dark banners, and smoke from the props made everything feel larger than life. Ewan lifted her onto his shoulders, giving her a better view of the bustling scene below. As the cast and crew went about their work, Elowen waved happily, her little hands high in the air.

“Look, Mommy! Daddy!” she exclaimed, pointing toward the familiar sight of the dragons on set. “Dragons!”

“Yes, sweetheart,” you laughed, resting a hand on Ewan’s arm. “But we’re here for someone else too, remember?”

At that moment, a voice called out behind you, one that Elowen immediately recognized. “Is that my favorite little Targaryen?” Tom Glynn-Carney strode over, a broad smile on his face. He was dressed in his regal Aegon attire, which only added to the magic in Elowen’s eyes.

“Uncle Tom!” Elowen squealed, wriggling in Ewan’s arms until he set her down. Without missing a beat, she darted toward Tom, who crouched down just in time to catch her in a big hug.

“Well, hello there, princess,” Tom chuckled, lifting her up and spinning her around gently, much to her delight. “I’ve missed you!”

Elowen giggled, clutching her dragon plushie tightly in one hand while resting her head on his shoulder. “I missed you too, Uncle Tom! Can we play dragons today?”

Tom feigned deep thought, raising an eyebrow. “Hmm… I think I can make that happen.” He glanced at you and Ewan with a playful grin. “Mind if I steal her for a bit?”

Ewan, ever the protective father, crossed his arms with a mock-serious expression. “Only if you promise to return her in one piece.”

“Deal,” Tom laughed, holding Elowen up like she was flying. “Come on, princess, let’s find some dragons.”

As Tom carried Elowen toward the set, a few other cast members noticed and waved. Emma D’Arcy, who played Rhaenyra, approached with a warm smile. “Well, if it isn’t our little visitor again,” they said, their eyes lighting up as they saw Elowen.

“Hi!” Elowen waved back enthusiastically from Tom’s arms, clearly enjoying all the attention.

Emma ruffled her hair gently. “How have you been? Are you ready to see more dragons today?”

Elowen nodded eagerly. “Yes! And I’m gonna fly with Uncle Tom!”

“Is that so?” Emma chuckled, glancing at Tom. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full today, Aegon.”

Tom smirked. “What can I say? I’m a popular uncle.”

You and Ewan stood back, watching the scene unfold with smiles. It was heartwarming to see how much love the cast had for your daughter. They didn’t treat her like a simple visitor—she was family. You noticed Matt Smith, who played Daemon, walking over next, his hands casually tucked into his costume pockets.

“Well, well, well,” Matt drawled with a smirk. “Look who’s stealing the show again.” He winked at Elowen, who beamed in response.

“Uncle Matt!” she giggled, clearly having assigned honorary “uncle” titles to all of Ewan’s co-stars.

Matt gave a mock bow. “At your service, princess. What mischief are you getting up to today?”

Before Elowen could answer, Tom chimed in, “Flying dragons, of course.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Flying dragons, huh? Sounds dangerous. You’d better keep an eye on her, Aegon. She might take over the throne if you’re not careful.”

Elowen, ever quick to play along, puffed out her chest proudly. “I’m gonna be the queen of dragons!”

“That’s the spirit,” Matt grinned, offering her a high-five.

As the day went on, Elowen explored the set with Tom, her eyes wide in wonder as she watched the actors rehearse scenes and the crew work behind the scenes. She was particularly fascinated by the dragons—especially when Tom lifted her up so she could “fly” with them. You and Ewan followed closely behind, content to let her enjoy every moment of the magic around her.

At one point, Tom knelt beside her, pointing out one of the large dragon props being prepped for a scene. “Think you could ride that one someday?”

Elowen, with all the confidence of a true dragon queen, nodded. “I could! I’m not scared!”

Tom smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “That’s because you’re the bravest little Targaryen I know.”

The rest of the visit was filled with laughter, warmth, and joy as Elowen soaked up the love and attention from the cast and crew. Even between takes, actors would come over to say hello, some offering small props for her to play with, while others asked about her day. It was clear that she’d become the little darling of the set.

As the day drew to a close, and you and Ewan prepared to head home, Elowen clung to Tom’s leg, not wanting to leave. “Do I have to go, Uncle Tom?”

Tom knelt down, looking at her with a soft smile. “You’ve got to come back soon, though, alright? You’re our good luck charm.”

Elowen nodded solemnly, and Tom gave her one more big hug before setting her down gently. “I’ll miss you, princess,” he said, his voice warm.

“I’ll miss you too,” Elowen replied, her eyes already sleepy from the excitement of the day.

As the three of you walked back to the car, with Elowen happily nestled in Ewan’s arms, you glanced back at the set one last time. It was amazing how much love and warmth surrounded your little family there. What started as just another workday had become a cherished memory, filled with laughter and love.

Elowen’s second visit to the set was, without a doubt, a magical one—and you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

[r0ugesun]

- anon

"this is pure cheese 😭" – tom glynn-carney, but how do you think Aemond Targaryen meeting Paul Atreides meeting would go down? can be a blurb, headcanons and/or drabble, it's just that this has been in my head ever since i saw a post of them together (can't remember which acc and whether it was on tiktok or here!!) and i am desperate to see someone write this!!

(if you don't write for Paul Atreides please ignore my request, i understand you have lists for specific characters so you don't get bombarded with asks of a ga-zillion people x)

“I want you to put out your eye”

“May thy knife chip and shatter”

Omgg two fierce warriors Paul and Aemond how would a meeting between them go?? in the intricate dance of war and power, trust is as fleeting as the sands of Arrakis or the tides of Dragonstone 🫣

The grand hall was a marvel of architecture, its high ceilings adorned with intricate carvings and its walls lined with banners from various noble houses.

Representatives gathered under the vast dome, voices murmuring as they discussed alliances and political strategies.

Aemond Targaryen strode into the hall, his presence commanding immediate attention. Clad in dark, regal attire, his eyepatch added to his intimidating appearance. His icy blue eye scanned the room with a keen, calculating gaze, stopping when he noticed a figure standing with an air of calm authority.

Paul Atreides stood tall among the delegates, his distinctive House Atreides garb marking him as someone of importance. His blue eyes seemed to almost glow in the light, a result of prolonged exposure to the spice, locked onto Aemond with an intensity that matched the Targaryen's own.

Aemond approached, his steps measured and purposeful. The room seemed to quiet as the two heirs to powerful houses stood face to face for the first time.

"Paul Atreides" Aemond began, his voice low and measured. "Lisan al gaib, they call you."

Paul inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, his voice equally calm. "Aemond Targaryen. I've heard much about you, your ferocity in battle and your relentless pursuit of power."

Aemond's lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. "We are sons to powerful houses. Yet, your path has been one of prophecy, while I've forged my own destiny through blood and fire."

Paul's eyes remained steady, his expression unreadable. "Prophecy is a guide. But it's the choices Pve made that made me who l am. You seek power for your house, as do I. Perhaps there is more common ground between us than we realize."

Aemond's gaze narrowed, a flicker of suspicion crossing his features. "Common ground? Or merely a temporary alliance until one of us finds a way to eliminate the other?"

Paul's lips curved into a slight smile. "trust is a rare commodity in war. But there is a greater threat that looms over us both. A fragile alliance, but one that could serve us well."

Paul's lips curved into a slight smile. "trust is a rare commodity in war. But there is a greater threat that looms over us both. A fragile alliance, but one that could serve us well."

Aemond paused, considering Paul's words. He could see the wisdom in them, even if he didn't entirely trust the source. Finally, he gave a curt nod. "For now, I stand with you. But remember, Atreides, I do not trust easily."

"Nor do I, Targaryen" Paul replied, his voice steady.

[darktrashsoulbear]

WIPs

Requests - OPEN

This list is not a timeline or order of what will be posted

Aemond x reader then Aegon x reader (request)

Burnt Aegon x sister wife? She cannot stand Aegon's behaviour and seems to love Aemond (as he does, but nothing is going on; basically, they're like Naerys and Aemon). After Rook's rest, Aemond comes to claim her now that he got rid of Aegon. However, the reader is disgusted by what he did and sticks to her sad, pathetic husband, taking care of him. 

Further details here

Aemond x reader - unrequited love, Aemond’s POV

Aemond was a lonely child, until that loneliness was cured and then again but a lonely man when that cure was snatched away

Ewan x reader - another fluffy one shot, can be read as related to ‘Exploring Local Treasures’ (request)

I was wondering if you could do one where reader visits his childhood home in derby and meets his parents for the first time

Ser Steffon’s Adventures in the Red Keep and Beyond!

Due to my overwhelming love for him and with Freyja’s @endless-ineffabilities encouragement I will possibly, probably, definitely start a drabble series on Ser Steffon from this fic and each chapter will be him dealing with a chaotic scenario concerning different members of the royal family and even the court in general!

Maybe I’ll even do a chapter where the team black character visit the capital and all of their chaos, or at this point just a whole spin off series ‘Ser Steffon’s Trip to Dragonstone’!!!

Ewan x reader - will definitely include fluff, the rest I’m still figuring out

Ewan Mitchell on pub quiz night, heart racing, adrenaline pumping through his veins, writing down answers before his teammates could even make a sound. While the scores are being calculated he walks over to the bar, all cocky and so sure he’s going to win and ends up standing next to the prettiest girl ever and he just forgets everything around him. Strikes up conversation and doesn’t even register them announcing that a team other than his won (?!?!) until she leans up, wishes him better luck next time and walks away to celebrate with her team

Rafe Cameron or JJ Maybank x reader

What about something for jj maybank or rafe cameron based off the song lifetime by justin bieber? Like everyone in their life has let them down or done them wrong and reader comes in their life and they realize after a while that no matter what happens reader is gonna be there and that reader is the lifetime kinda thing?

May end up doing a version for both

Link to request

Tom Glynn-Carney x reader

So, imagine visiting a Christmas market together, buying hot cocoa, sneakily buying him a present even if he insists on not needing anything and just having a cosy day with snow in the hair and hands stuffed in pockets because it’s cold, but refusing to wear gloves because it “takes away the sensation of holding you hand” 🥹

Link to request

[scuddisher]

꒷꒦꒷ TOM GLYNN-CARNEY MASTERLIST ꒷꒦꒷

DISCLAIMER: all content here is 18+, minors do not interact! do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not post my content on other sites, especially claiming them as your own! reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated <3

[ UPDATED: OCT 22ND | RECENT | RECS | NAVI ]

AEMOND TARGARYEN ☓ HOUSE OF THE DRAGON (2022-)

DRUMMING ALONG THE STONE WALLS. — 18+ | 2024 | drabble | 1k

An idea and a placement of a hand lead to an even longer night for you and Aegon.

© scuddisher — all rights reserved.

[dontforgetoctober3rd]

Life Eternal

This is an HOTD fanfic based off *another* fanfic, Second Sons by @avengingangelfanfic

The order I highly recommend reading in is Second Sons first (might take you a while, as it clocks in at well over 500K words!) and then reading my drabble prologue here:

Lastly, you can proceed with the story in THIS post!

Disclaimer: The events in this fic are NOT canon to the canon events of AvengingAngel's story! It was just an idea bouncing around and I asked for permission, which was graciously given, to put it in words. Gif credits are in the gifs themselves, except for the still image of King Edward, which is a screengrab from TLK.

Summary: Set 44 years after the initial events of Second Sons, Daemon Targaryen, son of Aemond and Lyanna, struggles to find his way due to his parents' fame. Who will he go to first in order to solve this problem?

Faceclaims: Daemon (Aemond as portrayed by Ewan Mitchell, except without the missing eye and his hair in a single ponytail)

Royce Baratheon (King Edward from The Last Kingdom, as portrayed by Timothy Innes)

Alphonse Baratheon (Osferth from The Last Kingdom, as portrayed by Ewan Mitchell)

King Jacaerys (Aragorn as portrayed by Viggo Mortensen)

Aegon II and Helaena (Tom Glynn-Carney and Phia Saban, but just imagine them way older!)

Word Count: 4400

Rating: T (mentions of death, mentions of violence)

----------------------------------------

In the first 25 years of the reign of Rhaenyra, the People’s Queen, Westeros enjoyed unprecedented peace and prosperity.  Save for the usual disputes between great houses over old wounds, the staving off of pirates who got too bold every couple of years, and the hard winter of 140 AC,those first 25 years were considered the Golden Age of the Seven Kingdoms.

It seemed once the new queen made short work of the extremist Faith Militant and the Flameborn in House Targaryen were revealed, no other major enemy desired a dance with the dragons who sat the Iron Throne.

Such a difference to the tragic years shortly following the birth of Prince Aemond and Princess Lyanna’s 7th child, Daemon.  Before the terrible times of turmoil, let us tell of this last instance of happiness for The Dragon Blade and his Princess of Hearts.  

The much beloved son came after 6 equally loved daughters: Catelyn, the eldest and born in the midst of the Crown’s battle against the Faith Militant, Laena, second and named for her grandsire’s second wife and Queen Baela’s mother, Alicent,their third, named for her father’s mother and who grew to share Prince Aemond’s love of books, Alyssa came fourth, named for her great-grandmother, followed by a fifth daughter, Daenys, who together with Alyssa stuck to her elder sister Alicent like a shadow.  A sixth child, seemingly the last (for it was 7 years after the birth of Daenys that this occurred and following this birth, it would be ten years before Princess Lyanna’s womb would quicken again, everyone of the mind that she was going through her change of no longer being fertile) turned out to be another daughter, whose name was decided upon to be Rhaenys. 

“By your leave,  we have decided to name her Rhaenys.” Prince Aemond had famously told The Queen Who Never Was, upon his arrival at Driftmark.  He had taken up the habit of flying upon Vhagar to announce the births of his children to the lords and ladies of various houses. 

So it was when Princess Lyanna brought forth a son.  While she stayed in King’s Landing with the King Consort and Queen positively preening with pride over their latest grandson, Prince Aemond flew to the great houses his daughters had married into: Caswell (for Laena), Umber (Daenys), and lastly Baratheon (his eldest, Catelyn, had married Lord Royce).  Two of his daughters, Alicent and Alyssa, had married Aegon II’s sons, Maelor and Valerion, respectively. They resided in the red keep with the rest of the family, seeing to the celebrations.  King’s Landing was full of joy, its citizens celebrating yet another dragon born.

No one could predict the absolute horror that was to come, the calamity that would begin with the murder of her grace Queen Rhaenyra and her Lord Hand and husband, King Consort Daemon, in the city of Braavos.  

No ravens came but a messenger on a ship arrived with a barebones crew to deliver the horrible news.  Braavos would have been burned to the ground by command of the newly made King Jacaerys, had his fury not been assuaged by the Dragon Blade.

Prince Aemond, having been made Hand of The King in the war council immediately following the news, felt the matter stank of outside forces plotting against Braavos.  The city and its holdings  had always been friendly with the crown, had sent much needed aid during the hard winter, always paid tariffs when in Westeros’ ports instead of covertly trying to weasel out of them and all the sea lords had immediately condemned the murder.  What’s more, Caraxes and Syrax had not attacked the city.  The two dragons instead flew to Mereen and began setting that city aflame before being fended off by canons, spears and all manner of debris being flung at them with catapults.  They did not immediately return to Dragonstone or King’s Landing, only appearing later at the deciding battle of the upcoming conflict.  It was not long after the war council that the White Worm came to King Jacaery’s court with the information she had been tasked to uncover the moment messenger’s had informed House Targaryen of the killings.

So the ravens flew from the Red Keep all over Westeros: Rhaenyra, Queen of The Seven Kingdoms, and her husband Daemon, King Consort, were dead by orders of Khal Drogo, self-styled king of Slaver’s Bay.  Khal Drogo was determined to be the Stallion Who Mounts The World, and only House Targaryen had any hope of standing against his mighty army of giants, wizards and slaves.

It seemed that King Jacaerys, who history would come to know as Jacaerys the Defender, would have his mettle as a ruler first tested by this tyrant.  A funeral was held for his late mother and stepfather, the much loved Queen and King, their bodies having been delivered personally by a council of sealords from Braavos.

The funeral procession was a most heart wrenching sight.  Flowers were tossed as the bodies passed by.  The smallfolk wept and wailed.  Even the guards had visible streams of tears flowing from their faces.

Saddest of all was the procession of the new King and Queen’s family.  King Jacaerys and Queen Baela steadily walked by, their bodies rigid and faces like stone.  Crown Prince Aemon followed, tear tracks clear on his face, his eyes full of fire and looking determined for revenge.  The Lord and Lady of Driftmark, Lucerys and Rhaena Velaryon, came after, followed by Aegon II holding steady Princess Helaena, all their children following.

Prince Aemond and Princess Lyanna had fallen behind with Lord Rick Tully, they struggled with him to comfort and raise up Lady Alicent Tully, who had collapsed on the path and was screaming with intense sorrow.  The people of King’s Landing could only watch in sadness as Aemond, Lyanna and Rick took to kneeling on the ground, attempting to get a hysterical Alicent to stand and walk. Her words were heard by all nearby.

“Don’t make me do it!  Please, gods, don’t make me do it!! I cannot I cannot do it please do not make me-”

—-------

Daemon Targaryen closed the history book.  It was looking to be yet another disappointment in what he was searching for, as was every book and scroll that talked of his late parents.  He had read so many that by now he could predict how the maesters, septas and scholars would choose to portray his mother and father: in every way except as people.  Rubbing his temples and standing to search for another book in the library, he contemplated his next move.

It was always the same.  They were devoted to each other, moved and operated almost as one unit, songs were written of them, their words and actions immortalized on paper and stone, and yet…they felt like strangers to him.  He had lost them in the last battle of the war against Khal Drogo, when he was but a year old and King Jacaerys had afterwards issued a rather strange decree: no one was to talk to him of his parents until he came of age.

When he was a small boy, he did not see the reasoning for such a thing, but soon learned.  Prince Aemond and Princess Lyanna were akin to mythical deities for the people of King’s Landing and all throughout the seven kingdoms, second in popularity only to the People’s Queen herself, Rhaenyra.  King Jacaerys did not want Daemon to grow up under the pressure of living up to them.  Though they were all aware of the decree, it didn’t stop little comments constantly peppered into Daemon’s interactions with the smallfolk.

In his growing years, he didn't understand them. As a teenager, it got infuriating.  Daily, as he walked about the city, he was always told he was his father reborn.  Many would add that he may be his father in looks but his heart was all his mother’s.  His own wants, his own ambitions, his own words even, were continually dismissed as people would try to prod him into acting like his parents, people he never knew. His cousin, the King, suddenly did not seem so unwise with his decree.  Had it been obeyed fully, Daemon guessed he could have grown up not feeling so inadequate.  He used to hate it at first, resent it, this constant shadow of his parents ever looming over him everywhere he went.

Now, a couple of weeks past his 19th nameday, he finally felt a desire to know them as a son should.  His sisters, far older than he, were not much help.  Daenys and Laena lived away from the Red Keep, their own holds to rule along with their husbands and own families to look after.  Alicent was always busy either with her namesake library or their grandsire Daemon’s university, Alyssa ever at her side.  Rhaenys had married into House Stark some years ago, far too remote to regularly converse with even by raven. 

Catelyn Baratheon and her husband Lord Royce were the ones he was closest to, despite them having approximately 30 some years on him, their eldest son Alphonse his dearest friend.  Ravens to and from Storm’s End were common, visits on dragonback frequent.  Daemon’s brilliant white dragon, Parthurnaax, enjoyed flying to Storm’s End to cavort with Caraxes, his grandsire’s old mount, who had been claimed by Alphonse. 

 Daemon shared a special bond with his slightly older nephew: save for the signature Baratheon brown hair, Alphonse had Aemond Targeryen’s face as well.

He understood the impossible comparisons to some degree but his parents insisted he shared only a face with his grandsire yet even they could not help but admit the truth when he had asked: though Alphonse had a softer version of the late Dragon Blade’s face, it was his son Daemon who had grown to be the very mirror of him (save for not having a missing eye himself).  

Alphonse and his uncle were quite close, as close as brothers would be, the result of having been fostered in King’s Landing until he came of age himself.  Alphonse had often found himself reassuring his uncle after a particularly bad day.  

“Let them talk.  Saying a thing does not make it so.  You are Daemon Targaryen, not Aemond the Dragon Blade.” Alphonse would say.

Catelyn, while never having an in depth discussion with Daemon about her own father and mother, as per King Jacaery’s decree, insisted that the stories told by the people and the histories written by maesters and septas would never come close to doing justice to the memory of Aemond and Lyanna.  Royce, who had also known them well, agreed.  Three years past, on Daemon’s 16th nameday, they both offered to sit and talk of them with him. 

Still in the throes of his frustrations of not being considered his own person, he had angrily refused with all the vehemence of a 16 year old determined they were the only one in the world feeling such anger.  Daemon had even refused to answer Catelyn’s ravens for a few months after.  Alphonse had tried to make peace with them but was unsuccessful until communications were initiated by Daemon himself again.

Now, at 19, it was Daemon who broached the subject once more.  One week since he had sent a raven and still no answer.  No matter.  There were periods of time when Catelyn took up to two weeks to respond, duties as Lady of Storm’s End keeping her busy.  Daemon was happy to wait, now that he was sure of what he wanted. 

—-------

Daemon did not have to wait long.  2 weeks after sending a raven, he was summoned by his cousin.

“His Grace, King Jacaerys, invites you to break your fast with him and Prince Aegon the Elder, my prince.” Ser Arryk informed him one morning, as he was just leaving his chambers.  Daemon knew it was not an invitation.  His presence was required.  Ever since his spat with Catelyn, despite having reconciled, he felt that the King remained short with him and it was best not to antagonize him by refusing an order.

He made his way to the vast family common balcony on a far end of the keep.  It offered the most expansive, amazing view of the city.  When he got there, Helaena was also present, she and Aegon milling about the smaller table full of food and transferring morsels to their own plates before seating themselves at the bigger table.  King Jacaerys, already seated at the head of it, laughed at something Aegon said.  Servants stood by the door but the atmosphere was relaxed.  So it was to be an informal meal…

“Cousin. Uncle.  Aunt.  A lovely morning, is it not?” he called out as he entered.  They all turned and he saw it, the look everyone always gave.  Like they thought for a moment that Aemond Targaryen stood before them until reality set in.  It was hard not to think that way for them, he supposed.  Daemon had grown his hair long as Targaryen men traditionally did but still snuck in a bit of defiance: instead of the half ponytail favored by his father in all paintings he saw of him, he kept his tresses tied back in a single, low ponytail.  

“Daemon.” Jacaerys said. “Come, I have a task for you.”  He motioned for him to sit in the chair across from Aegon and Helaena, who both smiled and nodded at his presence.

Daemon sat, taking a glass of wine offered by Helaena.  He faced the King.  “What is it?”

“Alphonse tells me Storm’s End has need of a dragon.  Him and your sister Catelyn are due in Braavos for a diplomatic trip on behalf of the Crown.  Lord Baratheon would appreciate your presence until they return.”  Jacaerys bit a piece of lamb off his fork as he finished speaking.

Daemon was confused for a moment.  “Did a raven come?  I wrote to Catelyn weeks ago and have not received a response.”

Aegon chuckled a bit.  “That is because Alphonse wrote to us on her behalf, since Catelyn was momentarily away with Royce, dealing with some border dispute.  Apparently they gave him leave to read their correspondence and when they got back they didn’t feel sending another raven was necessary…”

“It was the right decision, in the end.” Jacaerys put in. “Catelyn hasn’t the time right now to really give you the discussion of your parents that you deserve.  This trip is important.”  At this, Daemon snapped to attention. 

“I’m sorry, nephew. “ Helaena apologized.  “ We visited them on dragonback the other day.  Everyone is aware now, that you are ready to know the truth.” she said simply, as was often her way.  Daemon felt his cheeks burn.  Everyone?  Everyone knew his business?!  Catelyn would pay for this.  Alphonse too!

“You should leave as soon as possible.  Catelyn and Alphonse will take flight as soon as they see Parthurnaax in the skies.” Jacaerys continued.  “The groups causing trouble in their lands have been quelled and Lord Baratheon has more than enough men to keep it that way, but the presence of a dragon will ensure things remain peaceful.” 

Daemon said nothing, staring at his plate.  Helaena began talking, attempting to snuff out the tension brewing.  “Lord Baratheon loved your parents well, Daemon.  I’m sure he would be happy to talk about them with you until Catelyn returns.”  Still, Daemon said nothing.  Jacaerys took notice and put his fork and cup of wine down, looking to him.

“Nephew-”Aegon began, trying to diffuse the situation but Daemon cut in.

“All this blustering is unnecessary, Your Grace.” he said, the last two words laced with venom.  “Be direct with me: you are not sending me to assist Storm’s End.  Lord Baratheon needs help fending off raiders like my dragon needs help killing the sheep for his meals.” 

The servants tensed, Aegon and Helaena remained silent.  Jacaerys was now fuming but his voice remained calm.  “Cousin...what reason would I have to not be direct with you?” he asked in a silky, irritated voice.  He stared unflinchingly at Daemon, who stared back but seemed to second guess his decision to lash out.  He may be family, but Jacaerys was still King of all Westeros.  If Daemon were anyone else, he would surely be sleeping in the dungeons tonight for daring to speak in such a way in the King’s presence.

“I am not a child anymore.” Daemon said.  

“The fact has not escaped my notice, despite you currently having the attitude of one.” Jacaerys said.  “Come now, there's no need to be angry.  I am not using any pretext to send you off.  Your long awaited talk of your parents is merely a pleasant addition to your mission. Think of this as more a favor to me” his voice softening, Jacaerys continued. “I may be King but Vermax and I cannot be everywhere at once.  It would soothe my mind to know my coast remains under protection of a dragon.”

Quick as it had come, Daemon’s anger dissipated at the caring tone in his cousin’s voice.  Helaena reached out to hold his hand as Aegon spoke up.  

“We will certainly be happy to talk of your parents further with you when you come back.” Aegon said with a smile.  “No more sidestepping the subject, nephew.  You deserve to know them fully as we did and to love them as we all still do.”

Feeling he would cry if he spoke, Daemon merely nodded stiffly at them all and started to eat.  Jacaerys began to speak of the weather with Aegon and Helaena as if it were the most riveting topic, all of them pointedly ignoring Daemon’s silence.  He would speak to them again when he felt ready.

—-------

Of all days for Storm’s End to have clear skies and a shining sun, Lord Royce Baratheon thought it auspicious that it would be today.  His brother-in-law, Daemon, had arrived a few hours ago.  Royce happily greeted him in the courtyard despite the reserved demeanor that initially met him.  

“Brother, it is good to see you.” Daemon seemed jittery and restless.  Royce tactfully led him to his library and had refreshments brought.  It was best to just get on with it, Daemon had waited long enough.

“How are Catelyn and Alphonse?” Daemon asked, hands clasped behind his back as he paced the library, ignoring the lemon cakes and tea brought.  

Royce smiled, his hands clasped to his stomach.  “They are the same.” He took a lemon cake and nibbled at it.  “Catelyn infuriating with her winning of bets against me, her own lord husband.  Alphonse insists we arrange his marriage because talking to any maiden causes him to break out in a cold sweat and so making a match himself would be impossible, according to him.”

“He had gotten better at that, last I saw him.” Daemon chuckled.

“Has he?  I have yet to see such a thing.”

“Perhaps it is just the fact that he cannot do it under your eye?  He says you scare him.  Not in a way that you would mean him harm, but just the way you carry yourself.  As if you could achieve the greatest things in history.”

“I would hardly say talking to a maiden is one of the greatest things in history but your sister might become cross with me if she heard me giving voice to such an opinion.” Royce joked.  

Daemon laughed and the older man looked on fondly.  He was so like his father in appearance, but he laughed like his mother…

“Well…I think everyone in all of Westeros by now knows why I am here…” Daemon began.  “I don't even know how to begin to…I just…I know nothing of them, really.  All those histories, their great achievements, they tell me nothing.  Of mother and father.  I don’t even know what to ask!”

Royce sighed. 

“You do not have to confine yourself to only ask of pivotal moments, you know.  You can ask me anything of them, however mundane you may think it to be.”

“Truly?  You would not think me wasting your time?”

“Not at all.  I've been waiting for us to have this conversation with much anticipation, actually.”

“Anything?” Daemon asked again, still not quite believing he would finally get to know what his mother and father were truly like.

“Anything, brother.  If you wish to know what jokes would cause your mother to roll her eyes, I will tell you.  If you desire to know what the most frequent source of your father’s irritations was, I will spare no detail.  Ask away.”

“Well…” Daemon began, looking out a window. “...I actually wish to start with knowing  what you thought of them?  When you met them.  How they make you feel?  How did they treat you?  You were just a boy, after all.”

Royce examined the painted ceiling as he began talking.  “I was so… terrified when my mother, gods rest her soul, brought my sisters and I to King’s Landing.”

Daemon sat on a chair, arms on the sides of it, listening intently.  Royce stayed standing, slowly walking around the library, idly brushing the spines of books as he talked.

“All each of us had ever known was the cruelty of my father.  He had the power, so he had the right to treat us as lesser, as he so insisted upon telling us at every opportunity.  As soon as he was not in the vicinity, mother would contradict his word, try to build us up after father would tear us down.  ‘Cruelty is not the way.  None of you deserve this wretched treatment, you deserve kindness and love and happiness.’”

Daemon’s eyes began to mist over but he said nothing and let Royce continue.

“You can imagine my fear when mother dragged us to the Red Keep.  Words mean very little when what you actually witness is something different.  Save for our  mother, kindness and love did not exist to us, especially not from those with power.  Our father was a mere lord and he treated us as if we were scum so in my mind, the Targaryens, the rulers of the seven kingdoms and higher up in authority than him, would far outstrip his cruelty to my sisters and I.  I had heard stories of this new Princess of Hearts, but I thought them the same as fairy tales: made up fantasies.  For no Targaryen could possibly be so kind!  Oh, and your father, the Dragon Blade.  Well, I was in awe of tales about him but if I ever met him in person I would never have expected him to be anything other than deadly and vicious.  He was like Balerion The Black Dread to me. ”

Daemon did not look away as Royce turned to face him.

  “I did not believe it when Rhaenys, She Who Might Have Been Queen, vowed we would not be imprisoned.  Daeron and Joffrey, despite their friendship with me when my family arrived, insisted we would be treated fairly and still I did not believe. They were not the ones in power, our very fate in their hands.  The Dragon Blade had my father thrown to the dungeons for being rude with his words, so I prepared myself to be screamed at and possibly beaten when we were brought before the Queen…when your grandsire ordered everyone out, Rhaenys pulling us back so mother could talk to him alone…I thought it was over for us.”

Royce smiled sadly, continuing his story. 

“I wanted to cry when everything turned out for the better, when the Hand promised we would not suffer for my father’s sins.  I wanted to crawl up into mother’s arms, to praise her for being the bravest woman in the whole world for facing King Consort Daemon Targaryen himself… but we were in court and it would not have been proper, of course.” He laughed lightly, brightening the mood and Daemon smiled, keeping his silence so Royce could keep talking.

“It just…as soon as I saw there was nothing to fear from Daemon or the Queen, I felt like I wanted to know everything about them, these silver-haired dragonriders! Quite sure father would have beaten me to within an inch of my life if I had dared to ask him if he had magic.  Lyanna must have had patience to spare, with all the impertinent questions my sisters asked of her family and bloodline.  Her not simply boxing their ears and sending them off to their chambers as my father would often do was a miracle, to be honest.”

Daemon laughed at this along with Royce.  Hearing him speak of these things, it was as if he were there himself, watching it all unfold.  

“Oh gods, if your over protective mother had known how clumsy Cassandra was, holding Catelyn would have been out of the question.  It's a good thing babies and pottery bear no resemblance to each other or my wife would have ended up on the ground as soon as Lyanna had handed her off.”  Daemon was crying with laughter now, Royce smiled with glee, allowing him to catch his breath before going on with his recollection of things. 

“And when your father appeared!  It was very jarring to see what, to me, seemed like a deadly creature sidle up to your beautiful mother and gently give her a kiss. She did not fear him whatsoever! I was in shock, I think.  I expected him to ignore me since ,compared to everyone else present, I thought myself of no consequence.  He actually squatted down to talk to me.  Me!  A lad of a mere 5 years.  This man who even the guards at home spoke of in fear,  who had my father imprisoned just for talking!”

Daemon leaned back in the chair, listening intently.  Hearing all this, he felt as if he were meeting his father and mother for the first time.  He felt Royce’s joy and enthusiasm.  

“Being around them, your parents… it just felt safe.  I didn't sense any hooks later to be reeled in for favors from their kindness, like with other lords and ladies…there was no barrier of formality. I didn't feel like my nerves would snap if I made a mistake with court decorum.  I did not feel stupid and worthless.  They did not paint us with the same brush the rest did due to my father’s actions.  I felt I could be myself.  It was quite freeing, let me tell you.”

As Royce continued to talk, servants replenished the food and drink.  Daemon continued to listen well into the night, happy to finally get to know his mother and father.

CHAPTER 2

[ohstardust]

tom glynn-carney masterlist

Everything with an asterisk (*) are shorter ‘imagines’ or blurbs.

☆ STANDALONES ☆

↳ Riptide ↳ Figure My Heart Out ↳ Can I Be Close To You? ↳ How Close Is Close Enough? ↳ Are We Gonna Finish What We Started? ↳ Feign Ignorance

Seeing as my TGC fics have been gaining some major traction recently, here’s my little masterlist for him!

Updated: 2nd January 2023

[roselirry]

Wait what tom Drabble? Did I miss something?

I wrote a Tom Glynn Carney drabble!!! 

[ohstardust]

for the blurb thingy one of the boys making fun of a 20 yr old reader, calling her young and small and stuff like that in a cute way

If there was one thing Tom loved to tease her endlessly about, it was her small stature. She guessed she’d been around fourteen years old when her growth had come to a screeching halt, no longer one of the taller ones in her high school class, and she hated it with a burning passion. There were upsides to being slightly below average, of course there were, sneak attacks, getting out of tricky situations, pretending to be invisible, but the majority of the time she wished she were just a few inches taller. An average height wouldn’t have been such a hardship to deal with. 

“You’re so little, like teeny tiny little.”

Her face became stoic and she sent her strongest death glare Tom’s way, hoping to convey even a fraction of her dismay, “Just because you’re virtually a foot taller than me doesn’t mean I won’t fight you. Being smaller means I can bite your ankles or go for the kneecaps. If anything my height is a weapon.”

“Sure sweetheart, I hear ya, but you’re a little young ‘un.”

“I’m gonna fight you, you sod. I’m almost 21 - I’m a bloody adult!”

He shot her a toothy grin, his eyes crinkled as he giggled, “Of course you are, a small adult.”

She glared at him sternly and pointed her index finger in his direction, her eyebrows raising as she felt the effect of two glasses of wine making her a little giggly, “I’ll have you know that the myth states that you don’t stop growing until you turn 21, so that gives me,” she glanced at her watch, her tongue poking out as she tried to calculate the time, “forty-six minutes.”

“You better chop chop then, time waits for no one.”

“And my friggin’ fists don’t either, you oversized shit.”

@prettyboytgc might appreciate this which is fitting seeing as we’re talking right now