#tribute to princess grace

[gracie-bird]

Princess Grace and Alfred Hitchcock at the director AFI Tribute at Lincoln Center in New York, 1974.

[eraenaa]

Gold Rush

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister Reader Tag List

Synopsis: Everybody wants you, and I don’t like a gold rush.

Warnings: Enemies to Lovers, Mutual Pinning, Jealousy ¿Simp Aemond?, Mature, 18+, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, P in V sex, Face Sitting, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 7, 912 (I may have overindulged) 

Beauty worth their weight in gold, and it’s the greatest blessing from the gods that you have both. The only child of Lord Lannister. Spoiled and sheltered, you had never known hardships or troubles. Pampered in the halls of Casterly Rock or anywhere you go. You leave a trail of mystification, enchantment, and adoration. Suitors line up and beg to pay you tribute. Songs and sonnets are made just to entertain and encapsulate the beauty and purity you have for centuries to come. Commoners and Lords offer their lands, riches, and allegiance just to have your hand, and now, a certain prince dared to join. 

When the words slipped out of your uncle’s lips that you should join your father in his visit to the capital, the Red Keep was abuzz with curiosity. The Golden Beauty of the realm shall grace their presence. They shall finally see and admire the being that has been coveted and praised for years. Prince Aegon was excited, to say in the least. He has been curious and titillated by your said charms ever since poets decided to write nothing about the allure and trance you placed upon men by just one look of your emerald eyes. His brother found it as a hoax. He frowned at how they exalt your name and praise you as if you were The Maiden Herself when, in reality, they only read or hear of you. He would scoff to himself every time his brother would reread the songs made in your name. He would roll his eye every time he heard gossip and talk about you from the maids and knights. He was certain that this popularity and recognition had only made you egotistical and vain— a judgment made and solidified in him despite not having known or met you. 

When the day of your arrival came, his older brother was the first to greet you, whilst Prince Aemond stood by the window and watched from afar. He frowned upon Aegon’s actions greatly, paying recognition to a girl whilst ignoring his wife, but alas, his brother could not be reasoned to nor be persuaded to do his duty. Aegon was always easily swayed and distracted by a pretty face, and with beauty such as yours, the queen’s first son had turned simple. Aemond rolled his eye as he stood by the balcony, watching his brother tour you through the gardens. Aegon displayed a beaming smile and an odd blush on his face as if he were the maiden and not yourself. You simply kept a small, pleasing grin on your lips as the eldest prince kept on speaking and offering you flattery and compliments, trying to ignore the feeling of a gaze following you ever since you entered the palace walls. 

You set your gaze above, catching the lone lilac eye of a second silver prince. You held his gaze, which showed contempt and agitation you did not know the reason for. When Prince Aegon had noticed your attention had shifted, he cast his eyes above only to see his brother with his brooding demeanor, almost scowling at the two of you. “That is only my bitter brother, Aemond. Pay him no mind, my lady,” Prince Aegon stated and offered his arm for you to take. Your eyes shifted between the two princes, quickly curtsying towards the one who stood above and the took hold of his brother’s arm before he hurriedly escorted you out of sight of the younger prince. 

You were soon introduced to the princess, the wife of the elder prince. The princess’ presence you then favored instead of her husband, who had a gown quite… touchy and clingy. You stood next to the princess, who introduced you to her adorable children, babes tugging at the hem of your gown and pleading with you with their big violet eyes to carry them. Your heart grew soft and took the little Prince Maelor into your arms, smiling widely as the babe clung to your neck and buried his adorable face into your hair. “My son has taken quite a liking to you… he is most fastidious to other’s presence, my lady,” The princess smiled. “He is simply adorable, Your Highness,” You say and brush the silver hair of the babe. “He is… he quite reminds me of my younger brother when we were children,” The princess mused, her voice afar with nostalgia. 

“Have you been introduced?” The princess then asked, “To whom?” You inquired, distracted by the babe who shifted in your arms. “To—Ah, Aemond! We were just talking about you,” the princess then exclaimed, the silver prince standing by the door. You turned your gaze to the prince you had not been introduced to yet formally. “Lady Lannister, my brother, Aemond,” The princess introduced, and you curtsied since more at the one-eyed prince while having his nephew in his arms. You hindered your frown as he said no word, only simply giving a nod and the action of his lips thinning. 

“I was just telling Lady Lannister how much Maelor resembles you when we were younger,” the princess smiled. You turned to the prince, who tried to give his sister a small smile but looked more like a grimace. “The young prince is quite charming,” You smiled and turned to the prince, who stood before you, stiff and brooding. Aemond clenched his jaw as his eye caught yours once more; you are not at all chaste nor demure in the presence of royalty as any young lady should ought to be. You were perfectly comfortable taking a member of the royal family into your arms as if you were equal in rank. Aemond seemed to stand uncorrected with his early judgment of you. 

“She is quite handsome… I always thought the songs they made were an exaggeration, but it seems to not do her justice,” Aemond heard his mother whisper to his sister, quite entranced by your beauty, and it would seem as would everyone present at the dinner table. Princess Helaena generously invited you to their intimate family dinner. His hand clenched around his chalice of wine as his brother shamelessly leaned closer to you and whispered something in your ear to cause a sweet, amused smile to play on your lips. “Are you not bothered by this?” Aemond could not help but as his sister. “About about what, brother?” Helaena asked, clueless and concerned by the agitated state of her younger brother. 

“Lady Lannister, we are most glad that you are finally here to accompany your father,” the queen said, not allowing Aemond to answer his sister’s query. “Thank you, your Majesty. You have all been so welcoming to my presence.” You smiled and could not help but let your gaze travel to the one-eyed prince, whose contempt had been nothing but plain and quite obvious. “Of course, the golden beauty of the realm is most welcome here indeed,” Aegon then chimed in. “But may I ask why it is only now that you join your father to the capitol?” The queen inquired; your gaze flew around the table, eyes expecting your answer, except for the lilac gaze of the younger prince, who stared steely and harshly at his plate. “Oh… it is because my father and uncle wishes for me to be acquainted with the court… for they are planning for me to marry soon, your Grace,” You said truthfully. That is when you feel a lone eye finally place itself upon your frame. 

The queen hummed and looked not at all shocked by your admittance; her children, however, shared different expressions from what you could read. The princess simply nodded with a ghost of a smile on her lips. The prince beside you seemed surprised and, dare you say, disappointed by your purpose of coming. And the prince across from you seemed… you could not decipher his reaction through his hard gaze. 

When morning came, you were pleased to receive an invitation from the princess to join her in the gardens to break your fast. You followed a squire, and you were led to a table surrounded by flowers and greenery, three children of the crown waiting for you. A pleasing princess and her brothers, one stoic, the other drunken. “Good morning, Your Highnesses,” You greeted and bowed, surprised as the young prince stood and matched your curtsy, moving to assist you to assist you to a seat across from him. You try not to over-analyze his actions; just hours before, he seemed disinterested in you— animosity was heavy around him. However, now, there seemed to be an air of civility surrounding him. 

“What are your engagements today, my lady?” Princess Helaena asked as she sipped on her tea, you stirred yours and replied. “My father was planning to introduce me to some of the members of the court,” You say and turn to acquire the last piece of candied lemon. “Some suitors?” The princess asked, her brothers not at all joining in the conversation, merely sitting around the two of you as if they were dolls. “I am not quite certain, princess,” You say and let your gaze travel to Prince Aemond, who stared at the candied lemon on your plate. 

“Do you have a favorite among them?” Prince Aegon then inquired; you frowned at his question. “I beg your pardon?” You asked for clarification. “Does any of your suitors hold great favor with you?” He said and took a chalice into his hand so early in the morning. “I have still yet to meet them, my prince… but I was told that Lord Arryn’s son was quite handsome, and many ladies of the court seem to favor him,” You answered but was turned to the princess, the topic seemingly more appropriate for the two of you. “Ah, yes, handsome Lord Henry,” Princess Helaena said in recognition, “It is true that he is comely. However, I heard he is one to wander,” The princess said delicately. Confusion painted your face once more, and it was the second prince who clarified, 

“Lord Henry is quietly known for his depravity,” Prince Aemond said, making your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Like our brother Aegon,” he added, smirking as that earned a giggle from his sister. “I think it would best if you stay far from the son of Lord Arryn,” The princess said, and you nodded along. 

You spent the day being introduced to Lords and Ladies of the Court, but more specifically, their sons. You felt the constant drone of a gaze following you as you conversed with the prospects of your hand. Their faces seemingly merged, and their names eluded you, so you could only offer them your pleasing smile and mindless small talk and keep your hand on their arm. 

“Do you not have to train, brother?” Helaena then appeared beside Aemond, who was hidden behind a pillar, as he observed you being acquainted with the eligible sons of the court. Helaena held a cheeky smile as she caught his brother’s actions. You had only arrived yesterday, and the princess was already certain that you had caught the attention of her enigmatic brother. It was plain to her the attraction and curiosity Aemond harbored for the golden beauty of the realm, even long before you arrived. Yes, the One-Eyed prince would scoff when his eye would catch anyone reading a pamphlet containing the written songs in your name. Still, Helaena noted that he was the first one to acquire the said pamphlets, religiously reading them until Aegon caught wind of a lioness whose beauty was hidden in Casterly Rock. As a result, the one-eyed prince hindered himself from admitting that he and his brother were attracted to the same girl. Yes, the One-Eyed prince would roll his eye in annoyance whenever he heard gossip about you in the halls, yet he still stayed and listened to all of them. 

“Should you not be joining the line of her suitors?” Helaena teased, amused by the way her brother’s nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. Helaena waited for his reply, but none came. It was a rare occurrence for Aemond to not find words. “I shall see you at supper, sister,” Aemond gritted and walked off, leaving Princess Helaena amused and with new ammunition to lovingly tease her brother. 

Supper came, and to Aemond’s displeasure or satisfaction, you were there. Seated next to his sister, whispering and giggling as if you were the oldest friends when, in reality, you had only waltzed into their life just the other day. He supposed that he should find joy that his sister had finally befriended someone, but must it be you? 

Must it be you who had to join them in supper and be in his constant presence? Seducing and tempting him even though you merely just sat there— making him question himself and his honor as he watched wine stain your lush lips or the way you would let out a low moan at the taste of the pie placed on your plate. You were too much of a temptation, a trial sent by the gods to test his patience and honor, in which he was seemingly failing, for all he wanted to do earlier was cut all the suitors who dared touch you and now taste the wine on your lips. 

When supper had come to an end, Aemond was quick to stand and had a great wish to retire to his rooms, but his mother had different plans. “Aemond, will you escort Lady Lannister to her quarters? A young lady cannot be left alone in the halls at such an hour,” You turned your expecting gaze to the prince, watching as his jaw ticked and his tense form turned rigged. It was alarmingly clear that he had no wish to extend such generosity to you, but still, he obliged his mother and offered his leather-clad arm for you to take. 

You walked out of the dining hall in exchange for the corridor. Tense, suffocating air surrounds you and the second-born prince, whose reluctance was nothing short of obvious. You tried to make polite conversation with him as he walked with you through the never-ending, dimly lit halls of the Red Keep, but his replies were only a nod and a grunt. When you reached the door of your chambers, you let go of the prince’s arm, pride wounded as you were completely ignored and could feel unaccounted animosity towards you. “Good night, Your Highness,” You drawled, growing annoyed by the moment but still had the respectability to lowly curtsy before the prince. 

Aemond gulped as you curtsied before him once again, giving him a heavenly sight of your bosom that made him stiffen in his spot. He knew that your actions were a sign of respect; he should take it as a compliment that you had bowed before him lowly, but every time you did so, all you did was tempt him more. You were shameless as you fashioned a dress with such a neckline, giving every man a sight for their desires to only fester. Now he knew why every man who had encountered you had been left entranced and obsessed; you were a vixen, a true lioness. 

Days passed as you stayed in the Red Keep, and you could feel the constant and growing animosity and disapproval Prince Aemond held for you. You had no idea the reason for it; you could not recall what you had done for him to grow so callous and mean towards you. You would hear his scoffs of derision whenever someone paid you a compliment, and he was within earshot to hear it. You would catch him as he would roll his unique lilac eye whenever you spoke or offered your opinion or even when you laughed. It was such a shame that such a handsome and attractive prince was so vile and rude. You were growing impatient and irritated with him. On any other occasion, your course of action will be to avoid and not put yourself in situations that would require you to be near the prince, but somehow, the gods were cruel and had twisted fate to have you in each other’s presence constantly. 

When night finally came and offered respite from the bitter prince, you sighed in your chambers and tried to find a reason for his contempt towards you. It was an odd feeling you did not wish to fester; all your life, everyone you met was quick to grow fond of you. You were quick to leave them enchanted by your beauty and charms. You named it as your greatest gift— your greatest power was how well beloved you are by anyone… how you could wrap them around your pretty little fingers, which is why the prince’s dislike for you had left you entirely unnerved and bothered. You were growing scared that perhaps your charms were slipping and soon, all too, would feel the same animosity the prince harbors for you. You could not find rest that night, fear trickling into your system. The prince had unraveled your deepest fears with just his quiet distaste.  

You step out of your guest chambers and threaded the halls of the Red Keep, walking the darkened halls and trying to find distraction in the library. You walked straight and paid no mind if any soul was in the library because you were certain that no one else would be present at this hour. You were mistaken. 

Prince Aemond frowned to himself, thinking his mind had placed a trick upon him. The image of you haunted him even in the dead of night when he thought he could finally escape your beautiful torment. But as he heard books being retrieved from shelves and the way your scent wafted to where he sat, he grew aware that the image he saw was no apparition. You were there, with him, alone in the quiet room. 

Aemond took quiet steps towards you, the moonlight bathing you in its light. Your frame aglow, making you look more ethereal as the silver light lights your golden mane. Aemond clenched his jaw as the same prominent desire for you only bloomed tenfold. “You should not be here,” He gritted, standing at arm’s length. It was concerning that he was standing at such a close proximity and you have yet to notice. It only solidified his theory that you were so enveloped in only yourself that you care not about the world around you. Aemond bit his tongue as an amused smirk threatened to escape to his lips. You jumped in your spot and turned to him wide-eyed in fear. He had never seen a lion frightened. 

“My prince… I— I apologize, I did not know that the libraries are restricted at these hours,” You said and closed the book in your hand. “It is not,” comes the reply of the prince, making a frown of confusion paint your face. You turned your entire frame towards him, peering up at the prince who looked at you with nothing but resentment in his cold lilac eye. “Then why shouldn’t I be here?” You asked with a tilt of your head.“You should be in your chambers.” Aemond gritted and removed his gaze from you because looking at you illuminated by the moonlight made him feel too much. He stepped back, but you matched his actions and stepped forward. He took a step back again, and you only mimicked his steps. It was an odd scene, a dragon being toyed by a lioness. 

Watching Prince Aemond’s nostrils flare and his jaw tick again made you smirk, as he was clearly annoyed by your presence. “You do not like me,” you suddenly announced, making his shielded gaze cast itself upon your eyes again. “You do not know me, yet you do not like me… why is that?” You asked and stepped forward once again, leaving just a sliver of space between you and the prince. Aemond gulped thickly as you were just a breath away from him. Your scent evading his senses, your enchanting eyes assessing his every move. 

“Oh, I know you,” He spat but felt his knees weaken when you raised your brow, painting a fake confused look on your pretty face. Siren eyes mockingly turned into doe ones, and plump lips parted in fictitious shock. “You do?” You asked. “You know me? I apologize, my prince, but I do not recall our first encounter. Please, tell me how you know me,” you rolled your eyes and finally let your annoyance slip, for you had enough of the prince’s judgment. The prince and you stared each other down, him not finding words as you had your expressive, scathing gaze upon him. He did not know how to handle himself— he was always silver-tongued and quick-witted, never one to be speechless, but apparently, that changed when it came to you. When pitted against you, he felt like the quiet, dragon-less little boy he once was. His raging fire weakened and turned to mere flickers. 

You scoffed and shook your head, not wavering or stepping away from the prince, ready to retire back to your room, but he took hold of your arm and pulled you even closer to him. “I know you. You’re a spoiled… vain… flirtatious little brat,” He spat, and watching your eyes widen and fill with offense brought back Aemond’s confidence, and he once again gained his silver tongue and towering, imposing demeanor. He watched as your cheeks flushed and wondered how it would feel to touch them. Would it be as hot as the fire that burned in his veins? 

“My father and uncle used to always speak highly about you… about how cavalier, genteel, and dutiful the second prince of the realm was— it is disheartening to be faced with a mean, calloused boy who had shown me nothing but animosity since I’ve arrived— animosity which I do not understand the reason of!” You retaliated and pried his hold off you, Aemond trying not to grow amused as you said the words with a stomp of your foot as if you were throwing a tantrum. “You want to know the reason?” Aemond hummed as you glared at him. “Yes.” You said and crossed your arms across your chest. Aemond caught the action and reminded himself not to let his eye linger upon the deep live between your bosom. He was certain you did that on purpose. You were calculated; you did each of your actions, knowing fully well that it would elicit a reaction from those around you that would only selfishly serve you and your vanity. 

He could see it in how you interacted with the lords and other men, flashing your coy smile, batting your eyelashes, and seducing them with just a mere movement from your graceful frame. He could see it in how you toyed with Aegon, letting him whisper things to your ear, leaning in closer when the older prince spoke, and laughing at whatever meaningless word came out of the prince’s wine-smelling mouth. And you did it with him as well, the way your eye would hold his gaze, seeking him out during dinner and distracting him whilst in training. You were a shameless flirt. Someone who craved attention, and everyone seemed to be grateful to give you what you sought— except Aemond.

“Because you are a flirt— a tease. You toy with men because you were gifted with beauty,” Aemond seethed and that only brought a deep furrow on your brows. “I am no such thing!” You defended yourself, and the prince only scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You are. It is plain. You have them wrapped around your fingers— you know how easily an attractive face persuades them,” the prince said but frowned as he saw your lips twitch upward. As if his words and insults were a jest. “Tell me, my prince… do you agree with their sentiments? Do you find me attractive as well?” You asked and tilted your head, smirking to yourself as the dragon’s fire stuttered and backed away once more. It was a battle, each opponent taking their hits and reloading in time just to fight with the other again. 

The prince gulped and felt heat rise to the tips of his ear; luckily, the reddening flesh was covered by the curtain of his silver locks. “I— I don’t,” He said and stood his ground, forcing his voice to be steady and scathing though he told a plain lie. “I do not find you attractive,” He said more firmly and slightly more convincing this time. “You don’t?” You asked and watched as he curtly nodded and thinned his lips. “That is good,” you mused and backed away from the little space you had given him. The prince’s brow twitched as you said your sentiment, as he heard relief from your voice. “Why is that?” He curiously asked his turn to step closer to you. 

“Because your mother had proposed to my father that a union between us would be well suited; well suited to whom I do not know, but that is what she had proposed. Telling my father that she had needed to bring the subject to you to see if you agreed.” It was a nice scene to see the prince’s whole body turn to stone in shock. His thin lips parted, and his eyes held cluelessness and disbelief. You took the moment of silence from the prince to speak once more. “Well, it is most fortunate that you clearly don’t agree— it would save me from having to be in the presence of such a… prejudiced and bitter prince.” You relished the way you caught his hand clenched around nothing and the way you were certain he was ready to turn violent by your words. However, you still continued to speak.  

“Though the title of princess is quite tempting, and I am certain I’d look exquisite with a tiara— I’d rather run off with the stable boy and live in squalor than live in a place with you.” You finished with a satisfied smirk on your lips at the murderous look on the prince’s face. When his lips parted and tried to speak, he flailed on what to say. That only added to your triumph. “Good night, my prince, Aemond,” You said in a sickly, sweet tone and lowly curtsied again before walking your way back to your chambers. 

It should greatly shame the prince. His actions would haunt him for moons to come, but the moment you exited the library, and he was once again left alone, he succumbed to his desires and undid the laces of his trousers. Pulling his painfully hardened length and pleasured himself with the thought of you. Your scent still hung in the air, and your voice still rang in his ear, but what pushed him over the edge was the image of you curtsying, almost going to your knees before him. His mind was made then. Whatever act he had portrayed the past few days will quickly come to an end for he shall certainly agree with his mother that a union between him and you would be most suited. 

You sat in disbelief and utter confusion as your father announced to you that a union between you and the prince shall take place. “Why? Wh— did the queen ask his thoughts on this? Or was it just your and Her Majesty’s decision?” You questioned as you recalled the night in the library with the prince. It had only been two days since the heated and angered scene transpired, and you had done your best to avoid him and his raging lilac gaze. “The prince came to me and asked for your hand. And given the conversation I had with the queen, I assumed that his proposal has her blessing.” Your lips agape, and you try to work out your objections, but your father cupped your cheeks. “You, my darling, will be a princess just like you had always dreamed of.” He said softly, recalling how you ran the halls of Casterly Rock with a tiara atop of your head when you were younger— always begging your septa to tell you stories of princesses and their princes finding 'happily ever after.’

“I shall leave you to get ready— it will be announced to the court later today, and the wedding shall take place in a week’s time.” He announced, making you stand in utter surprise. “What?! Father— Why so soon?” You asked in disbelief. “The queen wishes his son to be married before the king meets his demise. He wishes for the king to witness Aemond joyously with his bride,” You were stunned and were certain that joy would not appear from a union between you and Aemond, making the Queen’s wishes moot. “Now, make haste as you shall be presented with your betrothed!” Your father smiled and kissed the top of your head, and hurriedly left the guest chambers. 

Aemond observed as your proud gaze was planted on the floor as they announced the upcoming union between the two of you. He was certain that news had left you in quite a state of confusion. The prince passed his eye at the sea of people, mostly on the men who had lined up for years and courted you, only to witness that the beauty they coveted was then promised to the dragon prince. Aemond’s look turned to his brother, whose jealous gaze was upon him, and Aemond couldn’t help but smirk. He then returned his gaze to you again, finally having looked up and locked your eyes upon him. Nothing but confusion in your orbs, and perhaps anger that Aemond simply found endearing. 

“I do not understand.” You gritted as you and Aemond were given a chance of privacy to get to know more about each other before the wedding. You two were in the room of the small council, the queen, your father, and the lord commander standing by the other side of the door lost in discussion as you and your betrothed were about to thread towards an argument. “You and I shall marry each other; what is so hard to understand?” The prince retorted. “I suppose the saying is true… the more comely the woman is, the more she is simple,” Aemond quickly added, grinning at how quickly you were to grow red in rage. Your cheeks match the scarlet of your gown. 

“Why, in the name of the seven, would you agree to this?! You and I are not suited for each other!” you whispered harshly, not wanting your parents to hear you quarrel. "And what makes you think so?” The prince hummed, stepping closer to you, tightening in his trousers once more as your plump lips were agape. “I haven’t had a civil conversation with you. All our interactions have been arguments— do you truly think that a marriage between us would work?” You asked incredulously, mind spinning at how abrupt, incomprehensible, and inexplicable the fates were. “You wish for a civil conversation? Let us have one then,” he simply replied and took a seat in one of the chairs housed in the long table separating the two of you.

You took in deep breaths and studied as he sat calmly, his hands placed atop the wooden table. You eventually took the seat across from him. “Why did you agree to this union?” You asked, your mind still replaying the scene in which he stated plainly that he dislikes you greatly. “Because I am in need of a wife,” he answered. You licked your lips and shook your head. “Why me, then? When you are perfectly aware of our shared… distaste for one another,” You said and watched as the prince shrugged. “Because…” the prince trailed, licking his lips as he was certain you would not believe what he would utter because he himself would find it hard to believe as well at how he had treated you since you had come. “I want you.” He finally said after a long moment of steely silence. The prince clenched his jaw as he heard you scoff, and a sardonic, melodious laugh soon followed. “You want me?” You asked, “What? You want to punish me? Make me miserable with a union with a man who hates me?” You added. “I do not hate you,” the prince sighed and rolled his eye as you stubbornly shook your head. 

“Ever since I have arrived all you had done was glare at me, pick quarrels and squabbles. You had offended me right to my face, and now you say want me?” You asked incredulously. “They say Targaryens are mad… but I had hoped your mother’s blood had leveled your and your sibling's heads.” You mumbled and did not expect to see an amused look on the prince’s face. A beat of silence surrounded the two of you, staring each other down. A lioness with a confused scowl on her face, and a dragon who had amusement and content on his. “I still do not understand,” You said, and the Prince sighed once more.

“It was all an act,” he sighed. My animosity towards you—all of it was an act. A facade to protect me because when I saw how you interacted with the other prospects for your hand… how obliging you were with them, I could not stomach the fact that you would not be mine,” he admitted, letting himself be vulnerable for the first time in years. I… I do not like sharing,” he then added. 

“I was five and ten when I read the first poem written for you,” he started. “I have not seen you… I have not a clue of who you were except that you were Ser Tyland’s kin, and you were of great beauty as they have written, and you already managed to make me grow curious,” You stayed silent as the prince continued on to explain. “I waited every week for new poems to be published… the songs in your name still did not receive much recognition— you were still unheard of by the others. I was certain I was the only one who bought those pamphlets; you were a secret for me alone.” You nodded along and rested your back against the chair, observing the prince intently as he spoke. “Aegon found the pamphlets and began to grow curious too… along with the entire kingdom, and I just did not enjoy the thought that I have to share the desire to know you— to be with you with other men,” He finished, and you bit your tongue as you did not know how to take the prince’s explanation. Was it flattering or puzzling? You had no clue. All you knew was your heart was beating loudly in your chest and your stomach was filled with butterflies. 

“My uncle often shared stories of you and your siblings…” You spoke, your turn to share an anecdote. “As a child, I have always been enthralled by the idea of royalty. So he would oblige me and tell me stories of the Dragon Princes.” Aemond nodded along as your eyes were cast upon the wooden table. “He would always go into great detail about your brother, Aegon… seeing he will be king, but I was always more curious about you,” You admitted. “But he said you always kept to yourself, so he could not truly tell me stories about you, so I would make him repeat the anecdotes already told time and time again. On how kind you were with your sister and how dutiful you were to your mother… how you were brave and determined— ceaselessly training with the sword even if you had lost your eye. And if you were not training, you were adding to your scholarly knowledge.” You turned your gaze to the Prince’s exceptionally beautiful lilac eye, “I have been fond of you long before I have met you, my prince. Ask my father and uncle… or anyone in Casterly Rock, for that matter,” You said truthfully, watching as Aemond’s lips twitch into a smile

“I would admit; I came here with the hopes of getting to know you… that perhaps a match between us would fall organically and not one that our father and mother made.” You said and fisted the fabric of your scarlet gown as your heart beat loudly at your admittance. The prince licked his lips, “Should it matter how this union was made?” He asked, “Either way, in the end, we’ll still get what we both want,” Aemond stated, his whole being satisfied as he was not the only one who pinned over a person he was still yet to meet. “I suppose not,” you smiled as your impending nuptials with a prince you had dreamed of since you were a child was to come. The door then swung open, revealing your father along with the Queen.“I hope the both of you had gotten the chance to grow more acquainted with each other,” The queen smiled, already excited with the prospect of your marriage and for you to be her daughter. You were most fitting to their family; not only will her son gain an incredibly charming and comely wife, but her daughter too will gain a friend. 

“We have, your grace,” You said with a small smile. She gave a pleased nod, and her smile widened, “That is good. Come with me, child. Plans have to be made, and you still have yet to be fitted for your gown!” She said and held out her hand for you to take. You stood and turned briefly to your betrothed; you once again curtsied before him. Now, a smile intended for him was placed on your pink lips, and Aemond’s longing gaze followed you as you walked out of the room with his mother. 

The day of your wedding was quick to come, and you felt entirely giddy and excited about marrying Prince Aemond. Your father escorted you down the aisle, the eyes of the kingdom following you as you gracefully walked to your soon-husband, who had a rare smile on his lips. When your father gave your hand for the prince to take, you felt gooseflesh scatter throughout your entire body. Aemond looked at you adoringly throughout the entirety of the ceremony, not at all paying attention to the Maester who blessed your union. 

Aemond was entirely impatient for him to announce you as his wife and for him to finally be able to kiss your lips. To mark you as his in front of the gods and the entire kingdom. And when that moment finally came, the desire that burned brightly inside the both of you only grew. Aemond was not one to show affection publicly, but he could not hinder himself as he cupped your cheeks to deepen your kiss that was witnessed by all present in the hall. Their screams and cheers faded and turned mute as both of your lips intertwined. 

Suppressed desires could not be contained any longer as you and Aemond had finally had a taste of each other. There was supposed to be a banquet to celebrate your union; the Queen had organized the feast to perfection, and your father spared no expense for the celebration. But it was unfortunately missed by you and your husband as Aemond quickly led you to your shared bed chambers, both of you unable to wait for nightfall to be in each other’s arms. 

“Aemond,” You mewled as he pushed you up against the stone pillar in your chambers. His lips kissed your neck, leaving his mark with every kiss, and his hands quickly untied the laces of your gown. You hear him growl as you boldly move your hand to cup his hardened length against his trousers, hesitant as you move your hand. “We should be in the feast,” You said but made no move to halt your pleasurable actions. Aemond shook his head, “Do you want to attend the feast, or do you want to be pleasured, wife?” He asked and watched with dark eyes as the sleeves of your dress draped down your arm and revealed more of your milky skin. “I want you, husband.” You breathed, and Aemond let out a pleasurable sound as your hold on his length tightened. 

“Kneel,” Aemond gritted, and your eyes widened at his command. “Kneel and show your devotion to your lord husband,” Aemond demanded and clenched his jaw as you did as he asked, slowly going to your knees, your eyes still locked upon him. You licked your lips as you were eye-leveled with his bulging length, “Take it out,” Aemond commanded and tightly closed his eye as you did the action, your skin finally touching his. You bit your lip at his massiveness, at how well-endowed he was and how beautiful he fully was. You swallowed thickly as you recalled the books you had read in the dead of night, detailing how man and woman should be. 

Aemond let out a strained sound as you placed a ghost of a kiss upon the tip of his cock, your name spewing from his lips as you peppered light kisses along his length. “Stop being a tease, little wife,” he gritted and felt his stomach tighten at the smirk on your lips and the view of you kneeling before him. Your dress had dropped lowly, and he could see most of your bosom that had been tempting him for days on end. 

You let out a breath and to him to your mouth. You half expected yourself to be repulsed, but with each moment you had his length between your lips, bobbing your head, sucking harshly, hearing the moans your husband spewed, and looking at his pleasured etched face, you felt your cunt drip with want and anticipation. Aemond groaned louder as you fondled his other parts, thanking the gods for blessing him with you as his wife. Thanking them for their favor to let him be bound to the Golden Beauty of the realm. The prince breathed in harshly as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, the need for release in him loudly pronouncing itself, making him abruptly pull out. He could not be so selfish and let himself succumb to pleasure whilst you were still filled with need. 

Aemond pulled you to stand, fervently meeting your lips once more, and guided you to bed. Your dress finally fell, and Aemond greedily took one of your tit into the hot cavern of his mouth. He bit the bud and elicited a sweet whine from your lips, and he quickly soothed it with his tongue and felt you clung to him tighter. Taking his other hand and guided it to you other needing tit to pleasure it as well. Aemond smirked upon your bosom at how in need you were of him. Aemond moved his lips to your neglected tit, and his hand trailed down south, your eyes rolling back and your hands fisting the back of his head as you finally felt his cold hands upon your needing heat. 

“So desperate for me, little wife,” Aemond hummed in satisfaction. Your moans echoed throughout the chambers, along with the sound of your wetness as Aemond slipped his finger in you, his thumb circling the pearl of your cunt, earning more of your sweet moans. Aemond moved to kiss your lips again, feeling how tightly your cunt clenched around his finger. You parted your lips as you felt climax nearing, your wide, lusted eyes locked in with your husbands, but before you could even succumb to ultimate pleasure, Aemond stole away his finger. “Aemond,” You whined, but your husband only smirked and pecked your lips. Making you watch as he brought his coated fingers to his lips and sucked the essence of you clean. 

Your mind was dazed and frustrated as he denied you pleasure. Your eyes followed him as he removed his tunic and lay nakedly on the silk sheets of your feathered bed. “Come here,” He ordered, and you hesitated for a moment. You took your bottom lip between your lips and did as told, moving to straddle him as he lay. His hands found home on your hips, urging you to move forward, and you furrowed your brows in confusion as your core threaded farther away from his length. “Aemond, I—“ Words were lost as the prince’s lips were met with your cunt. His hands forcing you down upon his face. Your head tilted back in pleasure as you rolled your hips upon his face, his prominent nose perfectly aligned with your nubbin and his tongue darting in and out of your tightness. 

“Aemond,” You cried as your thighs were quick to shiver; release was finding you once more. “Aemond… Aemond…” You uttered his name like a prayer. With one flick of his tongue, you came undone, your moans ringing loudly that you were certain that it was heard in the halls but could not find care. Aemond had a slight smirk as he moved you closer to his length. Your eyes were still glazed from your climax, and your mind was so disoriented that you did not even realize that Aemond had positioned his length at your entrance. The sharp pain of your maidenhead being taken was the only indication you had that you had now sunk upon his cock. 

Aemond relished at the sight of you atop of him, your cunt taking and squeezing his cock. Your breast was heaving, and your eyes were welling with tears. Aemond reached out and took your bosom into his calloused hands, kneading the taut, soft flesh— earning a pleasured moan through your pain. Aemond gave you the liberty to move whenever you felt comfortable doing so. He was an impatient man, but he savored every small movement you made as you clenched along his cock. 

Your furrowed brows dissipated, and your mouth parted as the tip of cock perfectly hit the spot inside of you that made you see stars. Aemond’s breathing labored as you rolled your hips, seeking further friction. He moved his cold hands to your hips and guided you to bounce upon his cock. “Aemond!” You cried, and Aemond could only marvel at your pleasured face and bouncing tits; you squeezed him so tightly that slight pain mixed with his delight. “Are you going to come, my wife? Will you come at your husband’s cock?” Aemond hummed and sat up, placing his head between your ample breasts, greedily inhaling your scent. “Yes… gods, yes!” You cried as he harshly thrust inside you. Both of you meet your peak, Aemond spilling his seed deep inside your cunt and you clawing at his bare back and leaving your own marks. 

“My wife,” Aemond hummed in satisfaction and nuzzled his nose against yours, a smile on your lips as your foreheads pressed as the cheers from the feast that you two disregarded were lowly heard in your chambers, “My prince,” You smiled and kissed his lips, your heart full. Your being wholly satisfied as you were bound to the prince that your young heart had wanted long before. 

[drgnmnts]

knuckles bruised (like violets) │ jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!OC

Title: knuckles bruised (like violets)

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!OC (Daenys Targaryen, daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Alicent Hightower)

Summary: There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin, especially for those caught in between, longing only for peace as they're met with fire and blood.

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Chapter 5 - A Final Tribute

Word count: 4.6k

The journey to King’s Landing had been pleasant enough regardless of Daenys’ nervousness in the days leading up to their arrival. As the carriage she shared with Jace, Luke, and Joffrey crossed the King’s Gate, the sight of the towering castle made her chest feel tight; despite how much she had missed the place initially all those years ago, the truth was that the Red Keep did not feel like her home anymore. 

And yet, there was a part of her that couldn’t wait to see her mother’s face, to hear her brothers' voices, and hug Helaena and the children. Daenys had been thinking about it the entire journey, imagining different things she could say or do to be the conciliator and make the days they were to spend there as peaceful as possible. 

However, her hopes quickly faltered when the only person to greet them upon their arrival was Lord Casswell. Jace held her hand reassuringly, in an attempt to convince her that perhaps they were simply caught up in preparations. But Daenys knew better. She was no fool, nor a child anymore. Rhaenyra’s family wasn’t welcome in the Red Keep— and neither was she.

As Rhaenyra and Daemon made their way inside to see King Viserys and introduce him to their children, Daenys followed Jace and Luke to the courtyard, a feeling of uneasiness set in her stomach. 

“Ah, see? I told you it would still be here after all these years,” Jace said to Luke, pointing at an indentation in the stone, a story that Daenys knew nothing of but made Luke smile at the memory. 

Before she could even ask what that was all about, the sound of clashing swords made the three of them turn their heads and approach the noise.

The tall, slender man sparring with a member of the Kingsguard Daenys recognized right away. As soon as their eyes met among the crowd surrounding the sword training, Aemond put down his sword.

“Sister,” he said, loud enough for everyone to turn towards Daenys, their stares making her feel scrutinized. She noticed Jace tense up next to her.

“Aemond,” she greeted in kind, an unsure smile on her lips. As the crowd scattered, Aemond took a few steps towards them. Once in front of Daenys, he grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles solemnly. 

“It brings me joy to see you again after all these years,” he said, and Daenys believed him.

Before she could say something in return, Aemond dropped her hand and turned towards Jace and Luke.

“Nephews,” he spoke to them then, “have you come to train?”

Jace’s face was anything but a pleased one, however he managed to offer Aemond his politest smile.

“My brother and I are mere spectators, but we appreciate your invitation,” he replied, ever so civil.

“We have only just arrived, brother,” added Daenys in an attempt to ease the tension. “Perhaps a meal and a conversation?”

“Hm, I’m not the kind to dine and converse, I’m afraid,” he replied, eyes lingering a bit too long on Jace, as if silently challenging him, before returning his attention to his sister, “but I do expect to see you tomorrow at court for the petitions—”

From the open doors leading to the inside of the castle, Ser Criston unknowingly interrupted Aemond.

“Princess Daenys,” he called ceremoniously, “His Grace the King wishes to see you. And Prince Jacaerys.”

__________________________

The King’s chamber was dark and lugubrious, and it engulfed them in the sweet scent of incense and something else Daenys couldn’t quite identify. Hand in hand, the couple approached the royal bed, and the sight of her father made Daenys’ breath hitch; King Viserys had lost most of his hair and half his weight, his skin had taken on a pallor that attested his sickly state and, despite being covered by pristine bandages that had been very recently changed, his face resembled the very image of the Stranger. His moans of pain and ragged breaths were the only proof that there was still some life left inside him and, despite everything, it made Daenys want to cry.

“Father?” she called as the pair stood by his bedside, still holding hands, none of them brave enough to touch the man. Her voice came out more like a whisper, and she tried once more, a bit louder. “Father.”

When the man spoke, he sounded tired and in pain.

“Rhaenyra…”

The confusion was nothing new to Daenys, and she was kind in her correction.

“No, Father, it’s Daenys. I’m here with Jace,” she explained, “Ser Criston said you wished to see us.”

“Daenys… Jacaerys…” Viserys said, reaching out to touch them. Jace held his hand. 

“We’re both glad to see you again, Grandsire,” he said, his voice loaded with fondness. If there was someone in the world who had always defended Jace, Luke, and Joffrey, apart from their mother, it was King Viserys.

The man smiled.

“Good children… you’re all grown now…” he said.

“Ten-and-seven, my King,” Daenys said.

“The betrothal… is it a happy one?” he asked then, perhaps in hopes that at least one of his decisions regarding his family had been the right one.

“Very happy, Grandsire,” answered Jace, smiling sweetly at Daenys, “Princess Daenys and I are… very fond of each other.”

King Viserys sighed with contempt.

“Good… good. In that case, I see no reason for the wedding to be postponed any longer.”

After sharing a look with Daenys, Jace spoke again.

“Queen Alicent thinks it’s best to wait until we’ve both turned eighteen,” he informed the king.

“Nonsense,” Viserys declared and, to Daenys’ surprise, his voice sounded steady. “I wish to see my daughter and grandson marry… it shall happen within the fortnight.”

The pair looked at each other again, hearts beating a little bit faster than before.

“Are you sure, Father?” Daenys asked, unsure of how much she could trust the king’s words in his state. Viserys nodded slightly.

“Otto and Alicent are in charge of the matters of the realm… but I am still the head of this family… your betrothal was made to unite us all again… and so it will be…”

As if able to sense that their king was in pain, two maesters Daenys had never seen before entered the room, ready to ease his discomfort and give him as much relief as possible given his circumstances. Feeling like an obstacle in the midst of the maesters’ work, Jace and Daenys decided to leave.

__________________________

Later that day, Daenys was summoned to the small council room by her mother and the Hand. As a child, she hadn’t been allowed in that room, which had led her to imagine it as far more majestic than it actually was: just a long table surrounded by fancy chairs and presided by a small wooden throne. That very head of the table, where Viserys would sit in the past, was now taken by Queen Alicent, ruling in her husband’s stead with the help of her father, the Hand.

After an awkward hug from her mother and a caress to the cheek from her grandsire that felt way too foreign, Daenys took a seat. 

“I hear you’ve been faring well at Dragonstone,” Otto said. Daenys nodded.  “It gladdens me, and the Queen.”

Alicent smiled softly. “I still remember how much you cried when we told you you had to go with them. You made quite a fuss,” she said to Daenys. Regardless of her smile, the queen’s eyes were no mystery to her daughter, and Daenys knew there was something going on.

“Well, yes, because I didn’t want to go. I didn’t know them… I was scared,” Daenys defended herself, because despite how much she loved them all now, she still remembered how abandoned and frightened she had felt back then.

“And yet I take it you’re quite happy now, are you not?” asked Ser Otto.

It bothered Daenys to admit to him that he was right, but she would not deny her happiness.

“Yes, I am.”

“Good,” he said.

“And your betrothed?” asked Alicent. The woman put her arms on the table and Daenys thought her mother was going to reach out for her hand, but instead she laced her own hands in front of her, as if their conversation was just another council meeting and she was not a mother, but a queen. “Is he kind?”

At the mention of Jace, Daenys smiled instantly.

“He is. Jace is gentle, and… loyal. Very intelligent. He will be a fine king one day,” she said.

Something in Ser Otto’s face didn’t sit right with Daenys, but it was such a fleeting gesture that she wasn’t able to fully discern what it could mean.

“I assume you have bled already,” he said, and the change of topic for one so intimate made Daeny’s face heat up in embarrassment. She looked at her mother, who encouraged her to answer the Hand.

“Yes, two years ago. Our maester says I’m perfectly healthy.”

Ser Otto nodded, pleased with the information. Then, he spoke again.

“I know my question will make you uncomfortable, but I must ask, and you must tell me the truth. Has Prince Jacaerys touched you?”

Daenys was left aghast by her grandsire’s question. She crossed her arms over her chest as she snorted indignantly, her cheeks turning cherry red. 

“What kind of question is that?” she inquired. 

“Just answer him, Daenys,” commanded Alicent, and whether she also wanted to hear her answer or not, Daenys didn’t know.

Reluctantly, Daenys did as she was told. “No, Prince Jacaerys has not touched me. He hasn’t done or said anything inappropriate to me, ever. He is honorable, more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Ser Otto held his granddaughter’s gaze, only to nod once more at her answer. Daenys knew he believed her, but that didn’t bring her any solace.

“Let us hope he keeps his honor, until the time is right,” he said. Daenys had to make use of all her willpower to not scoff.

“Speaking of time,” she said then, and the two adults turned their heads towards her. “My Father, the King, has expressed his desire for Jace and I to marry within the fortnight. He says there is no reason for us to wait, and we agree.”

“Of course you do,” muttered Ser Otto.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Daenys questioned, anger making her forget about her manners and the rules of the court, and Alicent was quick to appease her daughter’s outrage by grabbing her arm. 

“What the Hand meant to say,” the woman began, giving her father a pointed look, “is that it is only natural for the two of you to want to rush things, but there is no need—”

“‘Rush things’?” Daenys asked, sounding incredulous. “Mother, we’ve been betrothed for six years. Aegon and Helaena have two children already, and Jacaerys is the crown prince.”

Ser Otto shifted in his seat, but Daenys didn’t notice.

“Yes, he is,” said Alicent, thin-lipped. “And what your sister has, that will come to you as well… when the time is right.”

“But my Father—”

“The King says many things,” intervened Otto. “He barely discerns reality from illusion. One must not take his words to heart, as it is difficult to know whether he means it or not.”

With that, the conversation was finished.

________________________

Daemon had sliced Vaemond Velaryon’s head in half. 

It had been a tumultuous hearing, one that had brought tears to Daenys’ eyes at the way the man spoke about Rhaenyra and her children, but Daemon had put an end to it the only way he knew how to handle things: with violence. 

At least the debate was over: Lucerys Velaryon would inherit the Driftwood Throne, as declared by King Viserys himself with the support of Princess Rhaenys.

Daenys didn’t know whose idea it had been, but the whole family was gathered at the dining hall, ready for supper. She was sitting between Jace and Aegon, who had been drunk all day and had only shown his face to greet his sister a mere couple hours before dinner. Aegon’s attitude saddened Daenys, especially because Helaena didn’t deserve a husband who spent his days in his cups, or asleep, or doing gods know what. 

“You look very beautiful,” Jace whispered in her ear, interrupting her thoughts. Daenys smiled from ear to ear. They hadn’t been able to see each other again after their conversation with the king, at least not alone. After the events with Vaemond Velaryon, Daenys had spent the rest of the afternoon with Helaena and the children, who were just as lovely as Daenys had imagined.

“Likewise,” she replied, briefly stroking his cheek. Unbeknownst to Daenys, Aemond was watching her and Jace very carefully, and so was Ser Otto. 

They all rose when King Viserys made his way into the hall, carried by his most trusted guards. Once he was settled between Alicent and Rhaenyra, everyone sat down again. 

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems…” he began, out of breath. “As I’ve… recently decided, my daughter Daenys will marry my grandson Jacaerys… before the next moon.”

Daenys and Jace shared a look as they smiled with relief: now that it had been said in public, there was no way someone could try to diminish the King’s words. As Viserys continued speaking, Daenys raised her brows at Ser Otto, as if saying: See? I told you.

“Hear, hear!” cheered Daemon, raising his cup to them.

“Moreover,” the King continued, “as agreed by Princess Rhaenyra and Princess Rhaenys… my grandson Lucerys shall marry his cousin, Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses.”

Daenys smiled with excitement as she reached over Jace to give Rhaena’s hand a squeeze. She was aware that weddings weren’t always joyful, but knowing Luke and Rhaena, Daenys was certain that the pair was as thrilled as her and Jace.

Overcome by the bravery that happiness can bring to a person, Daenys decided to stand, chalice in hand. 

“If it pleases my King, I would like to propose a toast. To Prince Lucerys,” she said, giving her soon-to-be brother by law a complicit look, “I’ve had the privilege to watch you grow into the young man you are today, and you’re as dear to my heart as any of my brothers. I wish you and your betrothed all the best in the world. To the future Lord of the Tides.”

After they all had drank from their cups and Luke had expressed his thankfulness, Daenys sat down again. Jace kissed her cheek as Rhaenyra smiled at her with gratitude for her gesture: Daenys had kept her promise, and the crown princess would not forget it.

 “I see congratulations are in order,” said Aegon, low enough so that the rest could not to hear him, only Daenys. His breath smelled of Dornish strongwine. “I do have to say, sister, I’m afraid you’re about to be terribly disappointed. But I am feeling kind today. So, if you ever need me to demonstrate to your betrothed how to please a woman, other than just put a dark haired babe in you and call it a day, all you have to do is ask.”

Daenys silently prayed to the gods that Aegon was too drunk to notice the red of her cheeks. His comment wasn’t just inappropriate, it was venomous.

“Perhaps you might want to focus your kindness on your wife, dear brother,” she replied, her lips a thin line.

“Is everything alright?” Jace asked in a whisper.

Aegon gave Jace a look and opened his mouth as if to say something to him, but Daenys pressed her fist against her brother’s thigh, her rings digging into his skin through his trousers, and Aegon fell silent.

“Yes,” Daenys said softly, smiling sweetly at her betrothed, her back turned to her brother. “Aegon is an idiot, that’s all.”

Princess Rhaenyra stood up now, raising her cup for Queen Alicent. Her words were sincere, and Daenys could tell her mother was trying hard to keep hold in her emotions.

“Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess,” the Queen said. “We’re both mothers. And we love our children. You have raised my daughter admirably, and for that I am thankful. We have more in common than we sometimes allow. I raise my cup to you and to your house. You will make a fine queen.”

The appreciation for Rhaenyra’s role in raising Daenys did not go unnoticed to her, and Daenys wondered how different she would be if she had spent the last six years at the Red Keep, with her mother.

Daenys didn’t notice Aegon walking behind her and reaching for a decanter near Jace, but she did hear what he said to him.

“You do know how the act is done, right? Where to put your cock and all that.”

“Aegon, stop it—,” she started, but was interrupted by Jace’s fists banging the table in anger. When he stood, Daenys looked at him with pleading eyes. Please, don’t ruin this.

But Jace wasn’t like that. He wasn’t vicious like Aegon, nor violent like Aemond, who was already standing, ready to jump at any sudden movement from his nephew.

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond,” he started, and Daenys sighed in relief. “We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends. I understand your worries, as brothers, about your little sister getting married soon, but I’ve been preparing to be the kind of husband she deserves since I can remember. You have nothing to worry about,” he said, his eyes burning holes through Aegon’s skull in spite of his friendly smile. “To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles.”

Daenys put her cup to her lips to hide her grin.

That seemed to be the end of all the bickering, as the dinner progressed without further incidents. They were about to finish their first course when Daenys decided to have a conversation, or at least try, since he had not opened his mouth all evening.

After excusing herself, she stood and walked up to where her brother was, with the excuse of serving herself some more wine. The band was playing a cheerful tune, and the atmosphere in the dining hall was welcoming and warm.

“Have you seen the trees behind Evenfall Hall in Tarth? They’re starting to flower. I flew over the island a moon ago and it’s a beautiful sight���”

“What are you doing?” Aemond asked, eye fixed on Daenys, his brow slightly furrowed.

Daenys was taken aback by his reaction.

“What do you mean? I’m trying to speak with you.”

“So first you switch sides and now you wish to sweet talk to me about flowering trees—”

“Switch sides? They are my family, Aemond, just as they are yours despite how much you try to convince yourself otherwise.”

Aemond smiled, but there was no sign of amusement on his face.

“They’re not my family, they’re b—”

Daenys’ face hardened. She put the decanter back on the table with a loud thud, the impact causing the table to shudder slightly, and everyone turned to look at them.

Aemond quickly grabbed her wrist before she could go back to her seat, and Jace stood up. The music stopped, and the sudden silence made Daenys’ ears ring.

“I will not apologize,” Aemond said, speaking only to Daenys, as if he didn’t care about everyone staring at them. In his one remaining eye, Daenys saw the little boy from their past, the one who had once been the most important person in the world to her. She felt like she could cry.

Aemond’s thumb rubbed softly against the skin of her wrist, right above her pulse.

“Then I’m afraid you’ve lost me forever, brother,” she said, and this time Aemond did let go of his sister.

Daenys walked back to Jace, who put his arms around her in a protective way.

“Can we leave?” she asked him.

Perhaps it had been the way Daenys had searched for refuge in Jace’s arms, or the way he had shot daggers at Aemond with his eyes, or something else entirely, but the One-Eyed Prince stood up then, raising his cup.

“A final tribute before you leave, then,” he said. “To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” his eye was fixed on Daenys, and he only looked away when he spoke again, “strong.”

“Aemond,” Alicent warned, knowing all too well where the situation was going.

“Come,” he continued, “let us drain our cups to these three strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again,” said Jace, his voice threatening, positioning himself in front of Daenys.

“Why? ‘Twas only a compliment. My sister speaks wonders of you boys, and yet when I try to be polite like she wants me to be, I seem to offend you. Do you not think yourself strong?”

Jace’s fist landed on Aemond’s face with a loud crack, the sound of bone meeting flesh echoing through the room. From that moment on, everything happened too quickly:

Daenys went with Helaena, who was covering her ears, overwhelmed by the situation, and hugged her sister. As Aegon pushed Luke’s face against the table, two guards held Jace away from Aemond. Alicent tried to reprimand him, but Aemond freed himself with ease from his mother’s grasp, and only shut his mouth when Daemon put himself between him and Jace. 

“Go to your quarters. All of you, now,” ordered Rhaenyra. Rhaena and Luke, as well as Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena, left the hall. Daemon was speaking with Jace, trying to calm him down, and Daenys found solace in Rhaenyra’s arms.

“Rhaenyra,” called Alicent as she approached the two, and Daenys could’ve sworn it pained her mother to see that she was looking for consolation in Rhaenyra’s embrace, and not hers. “I apologize for this ugly ending to such a lovely evening.”

Rhaenyra nodded and gave her a closed-mouth smile. “These things happen, I suppose.”

Alicent put her hand on her daughter’s arm. “I was thinking… well, before all of this happened, anyway, that perhaps you would like to stay here until the wedding. It would be good to have everything prepared to your liking, and I’m sure Jahaerys and Jahaera would love to have you around a bit longer. And I as well.”

The idea of tending to her wedding preparations with her mother and sister by her side sounded like a dream come true to Daenys. With a small smile on her lips, she looked at Rhaenyra.

“If Princess Rhaenyra is fine with it, I… I would like that very much,” she said.

Rhaenyra smiled back, and left a motherly kiss on her forehead. “Of course,” she said. 

“But…” Daenys added, “I would also like you to be here, as well.”

Rhaenyra shared a look with Alicent, not knowing exactly what to say to Daenys’ proposal. Alicent smiled kindly.

“The King and I would like that very much,” she said.

“Very well, then,” said Rhaenyra. “Let me see the children home, and I’ll return on dragonback.”

Daenys’ troubles dissipated with the idea of spending such special moments with the most important women in her life, but her smile faded when she turned and saw that Jace wasn’t there anymore. 

Daemon said she would find him in his quarters, where he was indeed already packing up to leave.

Daenys approached him and grabbed his arm with both her hands to make him stop, and he did, but his eyes were still fixed on the trunk that contained his personal belongings. Daenys put her chin on his shoulder and, when she spoke, she did it softly.

“We’ve decided it’ll be good if I stay here until the wedding,” she said.

To this, Jace took a step back, meeting her gaze with eyes wide open.

“No!” he exclaimed, “Absolutely not. There is no way you’re staying here without me.”

“Jace,” she tried, gathering all the patience and good temper she possessed. “I will be fine, your mother will be here. I think I need this last moment with them, to— to put things right and make amends.”

Jace scoffed and turned towards the bay window, which looked out onto Aegon’s Hill. “I truly cannot believe you’re that blind,” he said.

His tone caught Daenys off guard; he had never spoken to her that way. “I don’t understand,” she said.

“Can you not see what he’s doing?” he asked her now, pointing at nowhere in particular. “What happened tonight, do you think he was just trying to irritate me?”

“Who?” Daenys asked, extremely confused.

“Aemond!”

“What about him?”

“He is in love with you!” he yelled, exasperated.

Daenys blinked in confusion. “What— that’s stupid, Jace.”

“Is it?” he asked, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Shaking her head, Daenys crossed her arms over her chest. “You wouldn’t know that. I mean, you don’t know Aemond, you wouldn’t know.”

“Believe me, I know what loving you looks like.”

Daenys’ frown immediately softened, and she bit her lip to hide her smile, but she failed terribly.

“Why are you smiling?” asked Jace, and his previous anger seemed to have disappeared already.

“What you just said… it was very sweet.”

Jace breathed through his nose and, although his face was still a serious one, he closed the distance between them and put his hands on Daenys’ waist, who immediately placed her hands on his cheeks.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said, and the true regret in his voice warmed Daenys’ heart. “And I’m sorry everything got out of hand.”

“It’s already forgotten,” she assured him, her forehead against his. “But I do need you to understand something. You and I are going to be married in less than fifteen days,” she began, and the thought made both of them smile. “And it’s not like things are going to change much between us because the truth is that I’m already yours, Jace. No matter what happens, or who tries to get in between… it’ll be to no avail.”

Jace’s eyes were glued to her lips, and it took all of his willpower not to kiss her right there and then. He knew that, of all places, the Red Keep was the least appropriate to share that kind of intimacy before the wedding.

“What about Aemond?” he asked.

“Aemond is confused. He wants everything that isn’t his, that’s how it’s always been. You mustn’t worry, I promise.”

Jace sighed. “I will anyway, but I trust you.”

“Thank you,” she replied, and gave him a soft peck on the lips.

“Princess Daenys, where is your decorum?” he quipped, and Daenys let out an honest laugh.

“I will see you in a fortnight, then,” she said, hands in his curls as if she was afraid of never touching them again.

“A fortnight,” he confirmed, stealing another innocent kiss.

“Miss me terribly, will you?” she asked, letting go of him and walking backwards towards the door. 

“I will try,” he joked, although both knew they would in fact miss each other terribly and be miserable about it.

Rhaenyra and Daemon’s family left that very evening, with only Daenys and Alicent seeing them off at the King’s Gate. 

Later that night, King Viserys died in his bed.

__________________________________

Sorry for the delay! We rescued a kitten this week and I've been MOTHERING! But here you are my loves, I hope you enjoy!

If you liked this, let me know in any way! And if you're missing from the tag list, please let me know!

Series Taglist: @void21, @burningwitchobject, @hellish-idiot, @inf4ntdeath, @klutzylaena, @swimmjacket , @helo1281917 , @cat-winter, @deltamoon666 , @strawberrymangoes , @lenadoerrer , @lenasdmns, @parkyurri , @groovycass , @yagbookstand02 , @jacaeryslover , @moonshine147, @neocity-mel

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Madhubala (Mughal-e-Azam, Barsaat Ki Raat, Mr. & Mrs. '55)—The Venus of India; heart-throb of all who saw her; responsible for the sexual awakening of every single desi lesbian I know (including me!) And my god, she is breathtakingly beautiful. Look at the subtle grace with which she moves, and that smile - the kind of radiant smile that can make you laugh with sheer delight, or cry because of its hidden pain. Those wild curls! That Cupid's bow! The way she tilts back her head and smiles at you with mischief dancing in her eyes! She has a way of looking at the camera that makes you feel she's sharing a private joke just with you; it's something about that quizzical twist of the lips and eyebrows. As an actress, she is inimitable; she seems to effortlessly inhabit roles ranging from a heart-broken courtesan to a laughter-loving socialite. Fun fact : she's had quite the fan following in Greece! Stelios Kazantidis even wrote a song as a tribute to her.

Ingrid Bergman (Gaslight, Casablanca, Notorious)—Where do I even begin with Ingrid Bergman? I fell in love with her with her astounding performance in the 1956 version of Anastasia -- the best Anastasia movie in large part due to her wonderful and touching performance. She's got this amazing, fascinating intensity to her in whatever role she's in. She commits 100%, and she's got this light in whatever she's in that's stunning. She's utterly convincing no matter what she plays, from an amnesiac possible lost princess, from a nun, from a woman taking her revenge on the town that wronged her, to light romantic comedy. She's never missed in any role I've seen her in! Also she became quite the MILF.

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Madhubala:

An icon of Bollywood, who was well known for her beauty and has continued to inspire performances and songs into the 21st century. She was at times described as "the number one beauty of the Indian screen" and "the biggest star in the world".

SHE IS EVERYTHING AHHH. JUST LOOK AT HER SMILE-

She's been nicknamed the Marilyn Monroe of India and was one of the highest paid actresses in the Hindi film industry (the term Bollywood did not exist yet) during the 1950s. Also an extremely talented dancer and singer

SHE'S JUST SO STUNNING, like seeing her eyes IMMEDIATELY CAPTIVATES YOU, THE DANCING, THE BEAUTY!!!!!!!!! She worked in Bollywood for over 20 years and passed away at a sad early age of 36, BUT THE IMPACT SHE HAD WAS UNMATCHED!!!!!

That sassy sideways glance she does always has me WEAK AT THE KNEES. And when she's making silly faces at the camera to mimic someone ahhhh my gay little heart <3

Ingrid Bergman:

God, she's fantastic. She's both beautiful and a compelling actor who's more than capable of putting the whole movie on her shoulders if necessary. It's worth noting that while her beauty is conventional, she was seen as refreshingly "natural" with more eyebrows and less makeup than many other leading ladies of the time. She's well known for her role in Casablanca, but in Notorious, Spellbound, (both available on archive.org ) and Gaslight (1944) she shows how immensely capable she is.

I mean...she's Ingrid Bergman. I feel like that should be enough, you know? She's physically beautiful (her eyes!) but watching her is like a transcendent experience. Her voice, her expressions... beautiful woman, beautiful actor.

I'm a gay man but even I understand her appeal. I'll watch any movie she shows up in. Gorgeous woman.

Just try and watch her movies without sighing wistfully, then get back to me!

Choosing 1-3 movies where Bergman was at her hottest was agony because, of course, she was always at her hottest. Not just because she was beautiful but because she was absolutely willing to go up against the bs women in Hollywood were constantly dealing with. When exiled from Hollywood for having an affair with Roberto Rossellini, not only did she refuse to apologize at any point, but she went on to say that Hollywood's films had grown stagnant and boring to her. Though she said she appreciated her time working there, she wanted to try new, different techniques (hence starring in Italian neorealist films, working on stage, and acting under directors like Ingmar Bergman). She was not afraid to chase after her artistic ideals and go outside the box regardless of what society had to say about it. From her first movie to her last she killed it. There's so much more to say about Bergman's career and life, but I've already written five million words so I'll stop at that.

ion words so I'll stop at that.

One of the most incredible actors I've ever seen on film. Her facial expressions are so intricate and poignant that I cannot look away. I'm either ace or straight, but damn she made me question that.

SEVEN TIME OSCAR NOMINEE QUEEN. Girl also PULLED, having affairs with famously hot men Gary Cooper and Gregory Peck IN ADDITION to her three marriages...sexy

She has a very natural beauty to her, and she's from Sweden!

She left Hollywood and only became more beautiful. You could drown in her eyes. She can look innocent AND like she's seen it all. She is effortlessly elegant. She's played Joan of Arc (automatically hot) AND was in the movie that coined gaslight as a term. And where would we be without that!

She was known for being a breath of fresh air on the movie scene at the time with her windswept hair, dreamy smile and soulful eyes. I have loved her in every movie I have seen her in - she was just magnetic!

Where do I even start. There's a neighborly quality to this beautiful, talented actress that makes her hotness one of a kind and her looks impossible to forget

With a career spanning five decades, Bergman is often regarded as one of the most influential screen figures in cinematic history. Known for her naturally luminous beauty, Bergman spoke five languages – Swedish, English, German, Italian and French – and acted in each.

She's hot, don't get me wrong, but I've always found her very approachable, like she could easily be a member of my friend group

A lot of the time hotness in a movie is just about words and framing. "You're the most beautiful person here" [vaseline lens] well I sure hope so because that's who you cast. But when, in Casablanca, they call Ingrid Bergman the most beautiful woman in the world... they were not fucking lying. And such a dynamite actor too!! I'd only seen Casablanca up until last year, and there she's confined to love interest. But in Gaslight she was maybe one of the most incredible actors I've ever seen!!!! Goddddd shes so fucking hot and cool.

[thepascalparadox]

The Echoes Between Us

Those who bear great responsibility must be willing to sacrifice their lives for the sake of others.

Aemilia Aurelia, the sole daughter of Rome’s reigning emperor, Antoninus Justus, is resolute in her desire to be a Domina remembered for her compassion, grace, and unwavering devotion to her people.

Marcus Aurelius, a general of Rome's mighty legions, has pledged himself wholly to the service of the empire. His life is a tribute to duty—he would lay it down without hesitation for his comrades, his emperor, and the imperium he holds sacred.

Neither of them had dared to dream of love’s tender joy. Aemilia, bound by the chains of duty, knows her marriage is but a tool for political alliance, not the sanctuary of affection. Marcus, hardened by the burdens of command, has vowed to keep his heart as barren as fallow earth, so his focus in battle do not falter.  

To some, may be a burden. To them is an honor, a sacrifice gladly embraced. And yet, it took but a single glance, and everything changed. Chapter One - Beyond the Window

Chapter Two - Everything Feels...

Chapter Three - Echoes of Us

Chapter Four - Duty

Chapter Five - Everything Changes

Chapter Six - Away

Chapter Seven - Princess of Nowhere

Chapter eight- Responsability Above All Chapter Nine - A Fragile Bubble Chapter Ten -

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

Author notes: please be kind! It is my first fic, English is not my mother language, and to be honest I don't know if will write something big! To give some "guidance": I really don't like the Y/n stuff, but maybe I'll put it in the first person? Not sure yet.  I'll try to do some Marcus's POV because it will be important to their story. I'll definitely put smut on these because I love it too, and I hope to make it very romantic. But there will be slow burn! Is what a had in mind since the beginning, so I'll be loyal to that. 

I'll try to be poetical as well because it is the only way I see Marcus behaving.

The Original Character has no specific physical description!! She has her physical abilities like Lucila in the movie like her gracious way of walking, long hair (no color specific yet) but a little shorter than the actress. 

Please, if you feel like you can KINDLY help me with the grammar and such, direct me! I know I need help, and I'm also very open to learn. But anything disrespectful I will ignore and know that it won't affect me (therapy in check!) That's it! I'm very excited to develop the character and maybe do something that will be remembered like I do to so many fics in here!

[kckt88]

New Beginnings.

Summary:

In the midst of yet another tedious council meeting, a new heir to the Iron Throne is named and another Targaryen makes their entrance into the world.

Warning(s): Childbirth, Swearing, Allusion to Child Loss.

Word Count: 2200.

Author Note: A companion piece to Wedding & Consummation/Arrival(s)/Mother & Father/Petitions & Final Tributes/The Hand, The King & The Dragon/Dragonstone/Blood & Cheese/A Time for Grief/The Gullet/Harrenhal and the Rivers/The Gods Eye & The Fallen Queen.

But can be read as a one-shot.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

“I know this might be tough for you to think about Your Grace. But you should consider marrying again”.

“-And why would I do that?” asked Aegon.

“Y-You need a male heir Your Grace” uttered Roland Westerling nervously as he noticed Aemond narrowing his singular amethyst eye at the Lord of the Crag.

“Who do you consider worthy of becoming the wife to a King?” questioned Aegon.

“Borros Baratheon has other daughters that can be taken to wife,” said Roland.

“Is my brother Daeron not enough of a boon to Lord Baratheon that he would seek to have another one of his daughters married to a dragon” snapped Aemond.

“It was merely a suggestion Your Grace” muttered Roland.

“What of the ladies Baela and Rhaena?” asked Royce Caron.

“Are you mad?” exclaimed Vaera running her hands over her rounded stomach.

“Your sister’s have Targaryen and Velaryon blood, it would be a fine match and having his blood upon the Iron Throne might assuage Lord Corlys’ ire,” said Tyland.

“Legitimizing his bastard son and granting his petition to have him named as heir to Driftmark will also do that, besides Rhaena is betrothed to Garmund Hightower” said Vaera.

“Another bastard in line to Driftmark, does Lord Corlys have no shame” muttered Torrhen Manderly.

“Lord Corlys is also requesting the blessing of the King for a marriage between his granddaughter Lady Baela and his son Alyn upon the agreement of his legitimization” said Grand Maester Munkun.

“I think the King should consider it” said Vaera.

“It is of little consequence what you think Princess” said Manfryd Mooton.

“-And what is that supposed to mean?” demanded Jayne Arryn.

“Women have no place on this council” argued Manfryd.

“How dare you?” snarled Aemond slamming his fist into the table.

“M-My prince” gasped Manfryd.

“You dare sit in front me and insult my wife” snapped Aemond.

“I meant no offence Prince Aemond but-“

“I am Hand to the King and my wife is the Mistress of Laws and you will show some respect, My wife sists on this council by the command of your King” shouted Aemond.

“Apologise Lord Hand, but perhaps on the matter of Lord Corlys your wife is swayed by her personal feelings”.

“I merely wish for the King to make his own choice and not be forced into a union that he does not wish for” said Vaera.

“I-I will grant Lord Corlys’ request. Alyn will be legitimized, and my blessing will be given for his granddaughter Baela to marry” said Aegon.

“But your grace who-“

“I shall take no wife. Discussions for another marriage will never be spoken of again” exclaimed Aegon as he pushed his half-filled cup of wine away.

“You need to secure the succession Your Grace,” said Tyland.

“It has already been secured Lord Lannister. I may have no son, but I already have an heir”.

“Your not making sense Your Grace,” said Roland.

“My nephew Rhaegar” replied Aegon.

“You can’t be serious?”

“Why not? My daughter cannot be named heir, lest we start another war and I do not wish to have more children. So, we will have an official ceremony where Rhaegar is named heir to the Iron Throne, and I will also announce his betrothal to Jaehaera” said Aegon firmly.

“I think that’s a splendid idea your grace” said Munkun.

“Do you not agree with the King’s decision, Lord Westerling?” asked Aemond.

“I was merely suggesting that-“

“-That you wish for another to be named heir instead. Mayhaps, you desire to see Aegon the younger or Viserys on the Iron Throne” said Vaera, taking a deep breath as a dull pain rippled across her stomach.

“No. I was-“

“Enough Lord Westerling. My decision is final. Through my brother, my nephew is naturally next in line to inherit the Iron Throne and I would see him married to my daughter, to see that my own blood ascends after me” said Aegon.

“As you wish, Your Grace” replied Roland.

“Now with that out of the way, I wish to discuss the situation with Dalton Greyjoy”.

“The red kraken’s support of Rhaenyra during the war is known, as were his raids on the western coast,” said Tyland.

“-And they still continue?” asked Aegon.

“Yes. Greyjoy conducts his raids from the Iron Islands,” said Tyland.

“Mayhaps we can support-“ gasped Vaera as her hand flew to her stomach.

“Is everything ok?” asked Aemond worriedly.

“I-I don’t-“ stammered Vaera as she felt something wet and slimy slid between her legs.

“P-Princess your wet,” whispered Jayne, noticing the puddle on the floor.

“The-The babe is coming” exclaimed Vaera as another sharp pain tore across her stomach.

“That’s it Princess, keep pushing” encouraged Maester Munkun.

“AEMOND!” screamed Vaera.

“I’m here my sweet” replied Aemond.

“I-I can’t do this,” cried Vaera.

“Yes, you can” exclaimed Aemond as he climbed onto the bed at sat behind Vaera.

“W-What are you doing?” muttered Vaera.

“Lean against me and take my hands” urged Aemond as he sat Vaera between his open legs.

“A-Aemond” gasped Vaera.

“Now, you squeeze my hands as hard as you like” said Aemond.

Vaera was sweaty and exhausted, but she took a deep breath and as the next contraction ripped across her stomach, she pushed.

“FUCK!”

"Keep going my sweet you’re doing great" said Aemond.

"I'M GOING TO CUT YOUR COCK OFF!" screamed Vaera.

"Oh, my love, surely you don't mean that".

"I do. This is ALL your fault,” cried Vaera.

"I seem to recall that you were a willing participant in our love making, if not the instigator on several occasions my love" replied Aemond.

"Not even remotely funny" yelled Vaera.

"Another push Princess" 

“I swear if you say push one more time. I'll feed you too my Cannibal” snarled Vaera.

“The head is out Princess, but I need you to stop pushing. The cord is wrapped around the babe’s neck” exclaimed Maester Munkun.

“W-What” cried Vaera in alarm.

“It’s ok. Issa dōna ābrazȳrys. Just breathe” said Aemond (My sweet wife).

After a few moments, the maester had managed to cut the cord from the babe’s neck and with a wet squelch the babe arrived.

But the room was silent.

“M-My babe?” asked Vaera her hands raised in expectation of receiving her babe.

“Just a moment” replied Maester Munkun as the babe was lifted off the bed.

“What’s happening?” yelled Vaera, her hands still grasping endlessly for her babe.

“Why is the babe not crying? What’s happening?” exclaimed Aemond.

“Aemond” sobbed Vaera, her entire body shaking in fear.

Aemond could only sit in silence as he watched the Maester try to save his newly born babe.

Vaera began wailing loudly in anguish, as the seconds passed.

She couldn’t think of anything except her babe. Not even the pain of the afterbirth swayed her mind away from the quite bundle in Maester Munkun’s arms.

Her heart was in her throat as the Maester did everything he could to stimulate the silent babe.

“No. Please. Don’t take my babe. Not again. I can’t lose another babe. Please I pray to the mother. I pray to the god’s of old Valyria. Save my babe” sobbed Vaera.

Then the sweetest sound in the world echoed around the room.

A loud shrieking cry.

“A daughter, Princess” declared the Maester.

Vaera all but snatched the crying babe away from Maester Munkun and sobbed.

“T-Thank you Maester” breathed Vaera, the tears streaming down her face.

“Your welcome Princess” replied maester Munkun.

“S-She’s ok. Aemond, look” gasped Vaera.

Aemond who’s face had been buried in Vaera’s shoulder, let out a sob of relief as he gazed at his crying daughter.

“My daughter. She’s ok. She’s alive. Thank the gods” gasped Aemond.

“She’s beautiful” sobbed Vaera as she stroked her daughter’s head.

“What shall we call her?” asked Aemond.

“Vharla” whispered Vaera.

“A-After my dragon?”

“I know how much Vhagar means too you and I wish to honour your old girl” replied Vaera.

“A perfect name. For a perfect little girl”

“So perfect” whispered Vaera.

“I’m so proud of you Issa prūmia” (my heart).

“I love you” muttered Vaera.

“-And I love you. My sweet perfect wife.” praised Aemond as he nuzzled Vaera’s neck.

“Would you like you hold your daughter?”

“Please” whispered Aemond as he manoeuvred himself away from Vaera and climbed off the bed.

Their daughter. They’d almost lost her. But she’s here. She’s safe.

Aemond cried openly when his wife placed their tiny babe in his arms.

“A-Are you ok?” asked Vaera her voice laced with concern.

Aemond nodded meekly as his gaze never leaving his precious daughter.

Nestled in her father’s arms, Vharla had opened her eyes for the first time and Aemond’s heart stopped.

Those eyes. The colour of dark amethyst.

Exactly like her big brother’s.

She had Aemon’s eyes.

"Daddy. Up" urged Rhaegar eagerly.

“Be careful sweet boy” said Aemond as he helped his son climb onto the bed.

"Come. Meet your sister" said Vaera quietly.

Rhaegar plopped onto the bed next to his mother and stared silently at the babe nestled in her arms.

"Her name is Vharla".

“Gevie" replied Rhaegar smiling as he leaned towards his sister and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead (Beautiful).

"Just like your mūna" whispered Aemond (Mother).

Vaera blushed ever so slightly at Aemond's compliment.

"What shall we do about an egg, Dreamfyre hasn't delivered another clutch yet-"

"-No egg" said Rhaegar sternly.

"What?" asked Vaera.

"Your sister deserves an egg" said Aemond

"Vharla will fly with Brightfyre" replied Rhaegar in a sing song voice.

"That's very nice of you to say but-"

"No daddy. Sister will fly with Brightfyre. I saw it" said Rhaegar.

"Y-You saw it?"

"When I was asleep. I saw her fly" cooed Rhaegar.

"Oh, you had a dream" said Vaera.

"I was flying with her. She was laughing" muttered Rhaegar.

"That sounds lovely"

"It was mama. My brothers and sisters were flying too" exclaimed Rhaegar smiling.

"B-Brothers and sisters?" gasped Aemond.

"Yes" said Rhaegar as he snuggled into his mother and silently observed Vharla as she slept.

"How many-" asked Vaera curiously.

"I'm not going to tell you that mama" whispered Rhaegar.

Vaera exchanged a look of shock with Aemond who simply shrugged.

Rhaegar however smiled ever so slightly.

Vaera entered the chambers she shared with Aemond, and she was stopped in her tracks at the sight that greeted her.

Her husband sat by the fire, with their six-week-old babe fast asleep on his bare chest.

“Issa dōna hāedar” whispered Aemond. (My sweet little girl).

Vaera smiled and simply observed her husband and their daughter.

“Issa byka zaldrīzes” (My tiny dragon).

Despite his initial fears over what type of father he would be, Vaera could say with absolute certainty that Aemond was an amazing father.

The love he had for their children was unparalleled.

Most husband’s left the upbringing of the babes to their mothers or the nannys. But Aemond had insisted from day one that he be included, whether it was changing their soiled cloths, helping to bathe them or simply rocking them to sleep.

He was there.

“Valzȳrys” whispered Vaera. (Husband).

Aemond turned towards his wife and smiled. His sapphire eye glistening in the dim light of the fire.

“Is everything ok? Issa prūmia” asked Aemond. (My heart).

“Rhaegar is fast asleep, and I’ve had my check up with Maester Munkun”

Aemond raised a curious eyebrow at Vaera’s mention of the Maester.

“He’s declared me healthy and ready to engage in matters of the marriage bed” replied Vaera.

“But…” said Aemond.

“I-I would like to wait just a little bit longer if that’s ok?” muttered Vaera.

“Of course, it is. I will wait for as long as required. The Maester can declare you sufficiently healed, but it’s your body Vaera and you’ll know when you’re ready”.

Could he be any more perfect?

“Besides there are other forms of intimacy besides sex” whispered Aemond as he carefully placed Vharla in her crib.

“Such as?” asked Vaera smiling.

“I could hold you in my arms as you sleep, or mayhaps we could simply take a walk together” suggested Aemond.

“A walk sounds nice” muttered Vaera shyly.

“I know how much you like the moon my precious pearl” replied Aemond as he pulled on a loose tunic and slipped his eyepatch over his head.

“I will call Myla to watch Vharla and Rhaegar” said Vaera as she quickly left the room and then reappeared a few moments later with the nanny.

“We shouldn’t be gone long” muttered Aemond.

“Of course, my Prince. I will watch over the little one's whilst you're gone” replied Mayla.

“Come my sweet” said Aemond as he held out his hand.

Vaera took one last look at their sleeping daughter before she took her husband’s outstretched hand and the two of them left the room.

Aemond could help but smile to himself as he walked around the gardens of the Red Keep hand in hand with Vaera, the chill of the wind washing over them.

“Thank you for this” exclaimed Vaera happily.

“I live to make you happy my sweet. Mayhaps on the morrow we can go flying on Vhagar and Cannibal, my old girl has been feeling quite restless lately” replied Aemond.

“Has it been a while since you flew together?” asked Vaera.

“I haven’t taken her out since we returned to Kings Landing”.

That was surprising, Aemond never usually went more than a few days without flying Vhagar.

“I-Is that because of me?” asked Vaera nervously.

“No, in truth I’ve been feeling a bit strange lately”.

“S-Strange?” mused Vaera curiously.

“Yes, the thought of being separated from you or our children has me on edge. It’s difficult to explain but the moment we thought we’d lost Vharla…”

“Aemond” whispered Vaera.

“I feel like I’ve failed in my duty as a husband and father” muttered Aemond.

“What! No how could you say such a thing?”

“Aemon is dead, and I should have been there. I should have-“

“You are not to blame. What happened was not your fault. The man responsible is gone from this world, you avenged our son” replied Vaera.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“I love you more than anything. You are a fantastic father, promise me that you will never doubt yourself again” urged Vaera.

“I promise” replied Aemond quietly as Vaera wrapped her arms around him, her head resting on his chest.

[howyouloveyourdragon]

alicent has a younger omega sister who is politically savvy but ignored by otto. when it is announced that alicent is marrying the king the hightower omega reader and alpha rhaenyra team up (get married) and become a power couple to get back at otto. if you want them to reconcile with alicent that may be something good to have happen but not likely to happen with otto as there's a lot of differences/anger between them. Headcanons though you can use it if you want to turn it into a longer thing.

pronouns: she/her warnings: inferences of misogyny

A/n: your honour i love hightower reader, i got carried away but i hope you still like! this idea is going straight into my pocket

okay so i'm going to use the assumption that Otto had the idea to place Alicent as Queen for a long time so he focussed most of his attention on influence Viserys and Alicent

so he doesn't have plans for you just assumes that once Alicent is married, he will have a plentiful of powerful lords offering tributes for your hand

he doesn't suspect that everything can flip so quickly

I think Viserys would take interest in you for your intellect if he noticed some of the quips you made or the books you read

so he may offer you become a cupbearer to sooth your curiosity

I imagine that Otto wouldn't be entirely happy about this because of your nature but it is another step to gaining the King's favour so he lets it slide

then you almost drop the large jug of wine on Lord Beesbury's lap when the announcement is made but you don't say anything until you're both back at your private quarters, you decide to deal with Alicent later, she's a mere pawn in your father's game but she is not completely innocent

"I don't understand." You roar at your father. "Alicent has been gallivanting with the heir to the Iron Throne since they were children and now you have her betray the princess? Are you a fool, father?" Otto's gaze narrowed as he stared past his child's exterior. "She may not always be the heir." He snapped, his implication clear. Y/n stepped back and scoffed, folding her arms. "You cannot be serious."

"When your sister bears a son, the King will reconsider her position."

that changes everything because you always suspected your father of wanting to claim the Iron throne but this was direct treason

you call him an idiot and storm out basically

and you smack into an equally furious Rhaenyra who is seething

you both share a heated stare but there is no malice

her eyes flicker over you in recognition

"You're Alicent's sister." She states to which you nod warily. "A Hightower."

That's when you clench your jaw and she definitely notices, now with a mischievous glint in her eyes instead of her anger and a burning idea "Well spotted, your grace"

if it were her father you were speaking to, you may have bowed but you knew Rhaenyra, you had seen her fume at the thought of biting her tongue, you doubted she would appreciate you holding yours.

"It seems I am in need of a new lady-in-waiting." You cock your head but don't give her the satisfaction of asking, if she wants something you want her to work for it and especially now that you know of your father's plans to usurp the throne

It's Rhaenyra's turn to clench her jaw

"Would you be interested?" Were you interested in becoming the future Queen's lady-in-waiting? Yes of course you were but Alicent was still your sister and you didn't want to just replace her because of the princess' judgment

then again, wouldn't it be fair to betray her like she had betrayed Rhaenyra? "I would be honoured, princess." You agreed, attracting a smirk to her lips

Her lips curl and her eyes narrow playfully as she links your arms

so the next three years you spend under your princess' arm and discussing the future of King's Landing

but there's no giggling in the godswood or studying Nymeria–you're not Alicent and you need her to know that

in its place you instate deep speeches in the library and chasing one another through the castle

since then, Rhaenyra has presented as an alpha and her presence as heir has practically been reaffirmed for it

she's still the same mischievous teenager that she was when she was younger but with you by her side, guiding her through political and social events, she's much more secure in herself

the idea of you seems to linger in her mind now that her liberties have been broadened, the restrictions from when she was younger no longer apply

her father still wants her to get married but he's a lot more relaxed around it considering her position and large prospects

your own relationship with your father hasn't improved, you're both increasingly wary of each other with snide remarks while dining but even those times are few as the princess demands your presence at her own table where she bears no shame flirting with you while Alicent grips her cup too tight to be coincidental

after one dinner in particular two scenarios happen, one between you and your sister and one between Rhaenyra and her father

"What are you doing?" She asks, hurt clear in the shake of her tone

"What?"

"You chastise me for heeding father's ambition and yet you do the same as I. You're a hypocrite" That boils your blood but you stay as calm as possible

"I don't know what you're talking about"

"Yes you do!" She snaps "You're taking her from me!"

"She was never yours!"

"But she could have been" Alicent's voice comes out choked and you finally see the tears in her eyes "if I'd known she was a...I, I would have–" She doesn't need to finish her sentence as you wrap your arms around her and hush her cries

it was times like these that you forget she was the elder

your hand strokes through her hair as she murmurs her pains and regrets

meanwhile, Rhaenyra is working on keeping her shoulders level as she stands straight and composed opposite her father

"I have something to ask of you" She tells him and he's surprised at the authority of her voice "Then speak it" "I wish to claim a bride" His eyebrows shoot up, fairly certain that she would have suggested an allegiance with House Velaryon. He nods in encouragement and smiles "Of whom?" "Y/n Hightower" He nods and grasps her hands in his "Of course, my dear child" Though there is the slightest hesitation and suspicion in him, this is the second Hightower child to be brought into the Targaryen dynasty and Otto's influence feel overbearing these days

However he could never deny his darling daughter Rhaenyra of course

a lot happens that night but she doesn't tell you of the news right away, she waits a few moons to make sure it is something you would be interested in, she was rejected by Alicent she could just as easily be rejected by you too

but she had to try

so once the sun has fully set on the fourth night since and the moon shines down on you like a promise, you brush through the courtyard trying to understand the scalding heat in your loins while whimpers drip from your mouth

you lay upon the cold stone of a bench and take deep breaths until you're found

by Rhaenyra

and with a bright beam of her smile she is telling you the good news as you present yourself to her like an unfolding flower

with a new glow and spring in your step, you're attached to the hip

she likes that you can be affectionate in public with her, that was one of the reasons her relationship with Alicent deteriorated, she always felt like she was about to get caught

you can tell your father feels torn at the news, this one step closer to a Hightower on the throne but that Hightower has stated her dislike of the idea

as you enter the throne room to arrange the betrothal, Otto's eyes are as trained on you as yours are on his and the tension isn't hidden, a standoff waiting to happen

When it comes to the wedding and you begrudgingly take his arm down the aisle, his mouth is close to your ear

"I hope you understand now, I am only here to protect you." Your eyes turn to him, emotions indistinguishable "I'm sure" Your voice is dry and lacks depth, erupted an irritated sigh to escape your father's chest "Must you always be so difficult?" "Must you always be so delluded" He doesn't have a chance to respond as it comes time

He turns to remove your cloak only to remember that it's not there and steps to the side

Viserys was happy enough to perform a Valyrian ceremony for his daughter and at the word 'unbreakable' you knew it was the way to go

all uncertainties are lost as intimate family witness the union

you avoid Alicent's eyes and when you finally meet them you don't find the distaste you expected

as Rhaenyra and you lock your stinging hands together, there's a transfer of something deeper within you

[snawbeanart]

a small tribute to those 2010's character tribute videos (some context under the Read More)

(Copied from the YT description)

Tribute video for Fawfuigi, a "what-if" scenario if Fawful had fawfulized Luigi early on during Mario & Luigi: Bowser's Inside Story. Also a tribute to those really old Mario tribute videos from the late 2000's - early 2010's (especially the Luigi and Mr. L ones that'd use this same song). Set quality to 144p for the optimal viewing experience. Song used is Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace, and I drew all the artwork (though some are edited Nintendo renders / artwork. also some backgrounds are from Mario & Luigi: Bowser's Inside Story).

If you're not familiar with the Mario & Luigi series and are wondering what's gone wrong with Luigi, he's been turned into a goofy prankster bean man by a genius evil bean scientist / engineer named Fawful. Fawful sparked chaos throughout the Mushroom Kingdom by starting an epidemic of bloated Toads, hijacking Bowser's Castle, stealing a forbidden object of great dark power, with the kingdom's authorities trapped in Bowser's stomach all the while.

Fawful does something called fawfulization throughout the kingdom during his conquest- this usually means he stamped his face and/or likeness onto something. He fawfulized statues, carpets, castles, animals, and even clouds. So what would be a bigger middle finger to Mario than fawfulizing his own brother?

The story of this scenario / AU (note this is an unfinished and pretty condensed retelling, I didn't want to write out all the elements of BIS that'd still happen but weren't really plot-relevant):

The morning that Mario and Luigi were supposed to appear at the Blorbs epidemic conference held at Peach's Castle, Luigi was strangely absent. Luigi is assumed to be late and the meeting continues until Bowser barges in and, under the influence of Fawful's Vacuum Mushroom, inhales all of the participants.

Meanwhile, the now-fawfulized Fawfuigi is running amuck, further adding insult to injury to the befuddled kingdom. He doesn't mean much harm most of the time, but his sense of humor can be very mean-spirited. His objective is to stall Mario from getting anywhere near Fawful, but can't seem to find the red plumber for a while.

Mario has been struggling without his brother. When he finally leaves Bowser's body, he's too late. The Dark Star the princess had warned him of was stolen. Things were only going to get worse.

When Mario leaves the town's caves and hobbles home to take a breather, he finds that his door has been slathered with rotten eggs. His shelves have been unconventionally reorganized. Someone had drawn over his family portrait with marker. Mario was infuriated but also baffled. Who and why?

He finds out soon enough. When he sees Fawfuigi, he knows that must be Luigi, but he doesn't want to believe it. He found him at Bumpsy Plains, setting up banana peels on the pathway to Bowser Path. When Fawfuigi spots him, he hurls a ball of electricity at Mario intending to start a fight, but Mario doesn't want to hurt him. Starlow urges Mario to do something to stop him, but after Mario fails to reason with Fawfuigi, he flees.

[catherinetheprincessofwales]

Capturing History and Tradition: Prince Michael of Kent's Royal Portrait for the Coronation of King Charles III by Rory Lewis.

"On May 6, 2023, the British Royal Family gathered at Westminster Abbey to witness the historic Coronation of King Charles III and Queen Camilla. Among the distinguished guests were H.R.H Prince Michael of Kent and Princess Michael of Kent, who graced the occasion with their regal presence. Prince Michael, a member of the British Royal Family, holds a significant place in the lineage, being a paternal first cousin of Queen Elizabeth II and a grandson of King George V and Queen Mary. Prior to the grand event, a unique portrait of Prince Michael was commissioned at the London Studio, evoking a sense of history and tradition.

Prince Michael of Kent bears an uncanny resemblance to his great grandfather, Edward VII. Inspired by a portrait from Edward VII's era, the decision was made to capture a profile shot reminiscent of the king's military portraits. The chosen approach, with its harsh lighting, aimed to maintain a certain level of intensity while highlighting Prince Michael's distinguished features.

As Colonel of the King's Royal Hussars, Prince Michael's first set of portraits featured him adorned in his regimental uniform. Against a crimson backdrop, the color of royalty, the portrait not only paid tribute to the significance of the occasion but also represented the distinctive trousers and peak cap of the King's Royal Hussars. This unique feature, bestowed upon the regiment by Prince Albert, stemmed from their exceptional performance as his escort during his wedding procession.

For the second set of portraits, Prince Michael changed into his Household frock coat, symbolizing his position within the royal household. Set against a black backdrop and illuminated with harsher lighting, the intention was to create a more dramatic and emotionally charged image. Utilizing intense chiaroscuro, the portrait sought to evoke a sense of mystery and dutiful devotion.

The Royal portrait sitting proved to be a smooth and enjoyable experience, enabling the artist to capture history and tradition in a single frame. The artist's goal was to encapsulate the essence of Prince Michael's lineage and the significant roles he has played within the British monarchy. The result is a testament to the artist's skill and the subject's commitment to preserving the legacy of the Royal Family.

Prince Michael of Kent's portrait for the Coronation of King Charles III and Queen Camilla embodies the merging of history, tradition, and regal elegance. From the uncanny resemblance to his great grandfather to the homage paid to his regimental affiliation, each element of the portrait carries profound significance. The artist successfully captured the essence of Prince Michael's role within the British Royal Family, making this portrait an enduring testament to the legacy of a remarkable lineage."

[vxmpswxn]

ㅤ

ㅤ

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈┈ ៸៸ ﹙ 🎂 ﹚

To my eternal flame, my fallen angel—another year of your life is a gift to this world, but to me, it’s a glimpse of eternity. You are the shadow in my light, the blood in my veins, the forever I never dared to dream of. Happy birthday, my love, my darkness, my everything—until the last star dies, yours ( @american-satan ).

As I sit down to write this, the world seems to fade, and it is only you that lingers in my thoughts, like the soft hum of a requiem. How do I even begin to capture the immensity of what I feel for you? How do I describe the depths of my love, when words themselves feel so fragile, so inadequate? You are not just my husband, Cailan. You are my everything—my dark prince, my salvation, my partner in this beautifully haunting dance we call life.

This is your day, my love, the day the world was graced with your presence. And yet, it feels as though it is I who has been gifted beyond measure, because I have you. From the moment we first crossed paths, there was a spark—a knowing, as though our souls had always been destined to intertwine. Back then, we were merely friends, walking a path of connection neither of us fully understood. How naive we were to think this connection could remain platonic, that a bond so electric, so magnetic, could ever be contained within the confines of friendship.

But now, look at us. Two souls bound not just by fate but by choice, by love, by fire. We have built a world together—a beautiful, chaotic, perfect world. Nova, our little dark princess, fills our days with laughter and mischief. Arrax, our loyal wolf, guards our nights with unyielding devotion. And, of course, Conde, who has been with us from the start, a silent witness to the unfolding of our extraordinary story.

And then, there’s our little wonder, the secret miracle growing in the shadows of our love. Even in its silence, it is a testament to the depth of what we have created together. You have given me more than I ever thought possible, more than I ever dared to dream.

You are my dark sun, the light in my shadow, the fire that ignites my soul. With you, every moment is poetry, every breath a hymn. I am alive because of you, my Cailan. You give my life meaning, and every beat of my heart is a tribute to the love I hold for you. You are my fallen angel, my guardian, my reason.

On this day, I want you to know just how deeply I love you. I love you bloody deeply much, with a passion that consumes me, with a devotion that knows no end. You are mine, and I am yours, forever and always. There is no force, no power, no darkness that could ever tear us apart.

So, here’s to you, my beloved. To your strength, your kindness, your fire. To the way you love me unconditionally, the way you make me feel like the only woman in the world. To the way you hold me, kiss me, and remind me every day that I am cherished. You are my home, my sanctuary, my eternal flame.

Happy birthday, my love—may this day be as extraordinary as the love we share. You are my forever, and I am endlessly grateful to walk this path of life with you.

Yours, now and forever,

Lena, your little kitten.

💍🖤🥀

[fearthefluff]

Fantasy Romance Recommendations Pt.1

I'm a big fan of Fantasy Romance books but I've noticed that a lot of recommendations lists have the same books over and over again. Nothing against Sarah J Maas, Jennifer Armentrout and Holly Black, but I have read their books already and I'm looking for new suggestions. And thus, I decided to make my own little list (with help from @housebaylor and @shirewalker). Maybe it will help someone somewhere. XD ***Some of the books listed here are not Romance novels officially but all have romance and have HFN or HEA endings Fantasy Romances The Fallen Empire Trilogy by Grace Draven The Kraelian Empire has ruled with an iron fist for centuries, its grip unyielding until the power of three women, and the men devoted to them, break it.

The Winternight Trilogy by Katherine Arden Vasya Petrovna is a young woman gifted with the Sight which allows her to see spirits who inhabits the world. The arrival of Christianity spells trouble for her and the world of the spirits at large. This story has her rebel against her fate as a woman in medieval Russia, go on a great adventure and meet amazing characters.  One of my favourite.

Nettle and Bone by T. Kingfisher A subversive take on Fairytales! After years of seeing her sisters suffer at the hands of an abusive prince, Marra―the shy, convent-raised, third-born daughter―has finally realized that no one is coming to their rescue. No one, except for Marra herself.

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not.  It is called Le Cirque des Rêves, and it is only open at night. Celia and Marco's beautiful story of challenges, love and magic. Beautiful haunting magic. Radiance by Grace Draven Two people brought together by the trappings of duty and politics will discover they are destined for each other, even as the powers of a hostile kingdom scheme to tear them apart. The Bird and The Sword by Amy Harmon Magic is forbidden and gifted people are sentenced to death. Lark, a voiceless young woman, has a gift she must keep hidden. The day her mother was killed, she told lark's father she wouldn’t speak again, and she told him if Lark's died, he would die too. Then she predicted the king would trade his soul and lose his son to the sky. A Fate of Wrath and Flame by K.A. Tucker Portal Fantasy! Gifted thief Romeria is transported into another world into the body of a treacherous princess. Romeria is plunged into a startling realm of opposing thrones, warring elven, and elemental magic she cannot begin to fathom. Only read the first book so far Married to Magic Trilogy by Elise Kova Shared Universe, Fantasy Romance, Stand Alone Novels About Young Women and their Unexpected Romances with Magical Men Rhapsodic by Laura Thalassa Callypso Lillis is a siren with a very big problem, one that stretches up her arm and far into her past. For the last seven years she’s been collecting a bracelet of black beads up her wrist, magical IOUs for favors she’s received. Everyone knows that if you need a favor, you go to the Bargainer and everyone knows that sooner or later he always collects. Only read the first book Promise of Darkness by Bec McMaster Princess. Tribute. Sacrifice. Is she the one prophesied to unite two warring Fae courts? Or the one bound to destroy them? If you like S.J.Maas you might like this YA Fantasy Romances Uprooted by Naomi Novik Agnieszka lives in a quiet village bordering a corrupted Wood. Her people rely on the cold, driven wizard known only as the Dragon to keep its powers at bay. But he demands a terrible price for his help: one young woman handed over to serve him for ten years, a fate almost as terrible as falling to the Wood. Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik Multiple POVs fairytale Miryem gains a reputation for being able to turn silver into gold. When an ill-advised boast draws the attention of the king of the Staryk--grim fey creatures who seem more ice than flesh--Miryem's fate, and that of two kingdoms, will be forever altered. The Girl who fell Beneath the Sea by Axie Oh Mina's people believe the Sea God, once their protector, now curses them with death and despair. In an attempt to appease him, each year a beautiful maiden is thrown into the sea to serve as the Sea God’s bride, in the hopes that one day the “true bride” will be chosen and end the suffering. An Enchantment of Raven by Margaret Rogerson With a flick of her paintbrush, Isobel creates stunning portraits for a dangerous set of clients: the fair folk. But when she receives her first royal patron—Rook, the autumn prince—Isobel makes a deadly mistake. She paints mortal sorrow in his eyes, a weakness that could cost him his throne, and even his life. Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson Elisabeth was raised in a magical library where dark magical grimoire are kept. She hopes to become a Warden whos job is protecting the Kingdom from their powers. Then an act of sabotage releases the library’s most dangerous grimoire. Elisabeth’s desperate intervention implicates her in the crime, and she is torn from her home to face justice in the capital. Shielded by Katlynn Flanders Hidden Princess, arranged marriage, yearning! A kingdom ravaged by war, and the princess who might be the key to saving not only those closest to her, but the kingdom itself, if she reveals the very secret that could destroy her. Half a Soul by Olivia Atwater Ever since she was cursed by a faerie, Theodora Ettings has had no sense of fear or embarrassment - a condition which makes her prone to accidental scandal. Dora hopes to be a quiet, sensible wallflower during the London Season - but when the strange, handsome and utterly uncouth Lord Sorcier discovers her condition, she is instead drawn into dangerous and peculiar faerie affairs. A Crown of Wishes by Rosha Chokshi Book 2 of a series. A captured princess and a wise prince team up and to win the Tournament of Wishes, a competition held in a mythical city where the Lord of Wealth promises a wish to the victor. ****Part 2: Urban Fantasy recs to follow.****

[gracie-bird]

Princess Grace of Monaco, between Francois Truffaut (left) and Alfred Hitchcock (right) arrives at the Film Society of Lincoln Center's tribute to Alfred Hitchcock in New York City on April 29, 1974.

Photo by Ed Azzopardi.

[graceandfamily]

Princess Grace attends the Film Society Tribute to Alfred Hitchcock, at the Lincoln Center in New York, New York, April 29, 1974. (Photo by Oscar Abolafia)

[thedragonbloody]

~ Fire & Love ~

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masterlist

CHAPTER 5

Rhaella

The steep cliffs rose majestically, defying the horizon, and Rhaella, with her bow and arrows in hand, enjoyed the view.

The salty breeze caressed the princess's hair as she stood on the highest cliff, her piercing gaze fixed on the target ahead. The ebony bow sparkled with the promise of exceptional skill, a precious gift.

Focusing, the string was extended until the bow reached its perfect span. In the same gesture, her arms lowered it, maintaining its position. The arrow was almost at eye level. She was getting used to the sting of her fingers and the force she had to apply to the string. She wasn't thinking, and could barely notice time passing. She perceived her surroundings through her mind, with the almost perfect focus in which she united her will and her strength, and turned the aim into reality. Her fingers moved and the rope was released. The energy accumulated in that stance was released all at once, propelling the arrow that cut through the air in a graceful arc before hitting the centre of the target with precision. A subtle smile curved her lips as she prepared for another attempt — she seemed to have got the hang of it.

However, the momentary joy was broken by the distant sound of bells announcing morning, bringing the princess to the sudden realisation that she had exceeded the time.

The distant sound of the bells echoed across the Narrow Sea, marking the transition from dawn to morning. Each chime reverberated like an uncompromising reminder of the time that, like the bells, waited for no-one. A metallic symphony, a ritualistic echo that carried through the halls of the fortress, calling subjects and nobles to their daily duties. However, for Rhaella, on that hillside, the bells were a warning that her moment of tranquillity had to come to an end — she was late.

The princess slung her bow over her shoulder and prepared to descend the cliffside. She had to get back quickly before the seventh toll.

The hem of her gown trailed across the rocks, and her nimble feet, with calculated steps, found support on the steep ledges embracing the Red Keep. She moved with a peculiar grace, her long silver-white hair flowing in the wind like a royal standard.

The mesmerizing sight of the Narrow Sea stretching below captivated her momentarily, allowing the princess to forget the duties awaiting atop the castle.  However, during this little act of distraction, the once firm stones beneath her feet began to show their treacherous nature and an unexpected slip altered the course of her descent.

The princess's breath caught, her heart leapt - but her countenance remained determined. With swift and precise movements, instinct guided her to find a foothold, enabling her to resume her descent and cling to a ledge before the fall could be consummated.

Her knees and palms grated against the rough stones, but each injury was accepted as a kind of tribute for her fleeting freedom.

As the princess neared the slope's base, a stone above her slid, striking her forehead directly. The impact with the ground was abrupt, a cut opening on her forehead, staining her face with blood. Rhaella rose disheveled, shaking off the dust from her dress in an attempt to mitigate the grime.

She ran her fingers over the corner of her forehead, noticing blood trickling and a sharp pain emerging immediately.

— If mommy sees this, I'll be in deep trouble...— groaned the princess in concern.

Swiftly, she opened a small pouch, extracting a cloth usually reserved for herbs hidden for her sister. Then she remembered that she still needed to get the catnip herbs that Vhaelys had asked for earlier. The princess sprinted towards the sea as fast as she could, dampening the cloth with saltwater and wringing it out. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, pressing the cloth against the wound as forcefully as she could.

The burning, although painful, was not the cause of her despair. She needed to return promptly because breakfast with the family awaited, and only the Seven knew that Queen Alicent wouldn't allow her to see the light of day if she appeared in such a state in front of the court guests.

She rinsed the cloth in the water and wiped her stained face, then ran back to the secret passage while pressing the cloth over the cut.

In a hidden corner above the rocks at the entrance to the passage, she spotted the plant her sister had wanted. The herb grew solitary on the cliffside, and small grasses could be seen growing slowly around it.

She removed the blood-covered cloth and wrapped the herb to prevent it from crumbling inside the bag.

And hoped the bleeding wouldn't start again.

Jacaerys

Meanwhile, Jacaerys, the first-born, stood before the looking glass, fine-tuning his elaborately embroidered garments. His expression reflected a mixture of expectation and responsibility. The impending arrival of his birthday carried an anticipation that harmonized with the vastness of the sky beyond the castle walls.

The week of celebration loomed, and, of greater import, the first flight that the prince would undertake astride his dragon in the public eye. Although not yet fully grown, Vermax had already grown enough to take the young prince to the skies.

Jacaerys was robust and somewhat tall for his years, took longer than his sisters to fly his dragon. Vermax, despite having hatched first among the brothers' dragons, was still not big enough to carry the prince to great heights.

Princesses Vhaelys and Rhaella, who took to the skies with their dragons when one was seven and the other six, flew together and some say that at that moment the bond between the two sisters became unbreakable.

Jacaerys was adjusting the embroidered garment for the fifth time, even though the maid had already done so. His brown eyes reflected his obvious anxiety in front of the mirror.

Today he had to receive the guests for the celebration with his mother and Queen Alicent, he had to behave. 

His thoughts were swept away to some corner of his mind when the doors to his chambers opened and his mother entered accompanied by his dear sister Vhaelys.

Princess Rhaenyra approached with an affectionate smile.

— Good morning, dear — she stroked the boy's hair and placed a kiss on his forehead. — Are you ready?

Prince Jacaerys smiled nervously.

— Sort of... — he looked at his mother. — It's going to be okay, right?

Princess Rhaenyra stroked the boy's face, she was very proud of her son, and always appreciated his commitment to his duties — even when he was anxious, like today. A fond smile appeared on her lips.

— Of course you will, Jace. I'll be right by your side, there's nothing to be afraid of. You'll do fine, I'm sure. 

— Just say hello to some nobles who are arriving, brother — Vhaelys smiled. — Why are you so nervous? We've already done this several times.

Jaecarys rolled her eyes and grimaced at her sister, her snub nose wrinkling.

— It's different this time, Lys.

— You're the crown prince, Jace — now it was Vhaelys' turn to roll her eyes. — The lords should be anxious, not you. Right, mama?

Princess Rhaenyra watched her children exchange grimaces and laughed.

— All right, that's enough for both of you — she stroked her belly. — The day of your brother's first flight is coming up, don't upset him so much, darling. Come on, Jace. I'll fix your hair, I still need to see Luke.

— Where's Rhae? — asked the prince as his mother reached for the brush on the dressing table. — Don't tell me she's run off with some horse this time... — he whispered to his sister.

Princess Vhaelys sighed.

— No, she went to the cliffs. She must have practised with her bow again — Vhaelys sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her brother. — Don't even think about making that face, even you wouldn't stop her. Unless you want to get another finger bitten off.

Jacaerys laughed and raised his hands in surrender.

— What are you both laughing at? — Princess Rhaenyra approached and began brushing her son's hair.

Vhaelys looked at her mother and brother and laughed again.

— Remember when Jace told you that Rhae had sneaked out to play in the kennels?

— How could I forget... — Rhaenyra laughed. — She was five, I still don't know how she managed to get out.

— When Mum brought her back to her room, the first thing she did was try to pull my hair - Jacaerys smiled. - She couldn't even reach.

— That's true, — the mother smiled nostalgically. — Didn't she end up biting your fingers instead?

— Yes! - the children replied in unison.

Rhaenyra laughed without holding back and so did her children.

— I remember trying to get her mouth off your fingers — she wiped the tears of laughter from the corner of her eyes. — Jace, you thought she'd ripped your finger off.

— She bit me like a dog! — Jace defended himself.

— You haven't stopped crying, Jace! — accused Vhaelys and laughed again. — Remember, mama? You needed Ser Harwin to hold her down so you could look at Jace's fingers.

— And you, Lys? — accused the prince — You just watched!

— Well, you split on her — she shrugged, smiling.

Rhaenyra stroked her son's head as she watched the two of them argue.

The crown princess saw the loyalty between her children as a sacred bond, a pillar that transcended the intricate webs of politics, which more often than not separated rather than united. For her, her children were not just heirs to a legacy, but fundamental pillars for each other.

The relationship between her children was a source of pride and comfort for her. Every gesture of loyalty between them was like a tribute to the lineage of the three dragons — a testament to the blood that flowed through their veins.

However, there was a peculiar aspect to her sons' loyalty that Princess Rhaenyra noted with amusement. Their ability to hide Rhaella's escapes, even when the matriarch already knew the truth, was a sign of the complicity that permeated the family.

She saw this act of secrecy as an expression of love and protection.

— She cried and apologised for about three days - Jacaerys sighed. —  Now I understand, why dad can't fight with her...

—  Your father can't argue with any of you... — claimed the princess. —  Speaking of him, has he turned up here yet?

Ser Laenor Velaryon, despite his commanding presence when wielding a sword, was known for his compassionate and affable nature, a trait that often made it difficult for him to take a firm hand with his children.

His reluctance to adopt a more authoritarian stance could result in moments of indecision, especially when faced with situations that called for more assertive leadership.

Even so, Ser Laenor's compassion left an indelible mark on his childrens' hearts.

Prince Jacaerys nodded.

— I haven't seen him this morning, maybe he went to see Luke first.

Suddenly, the door swung open and Ser Harwin Strong, Princess Rhaenyra's loyal knight, entered with the silent grace characteristic of guardians. His polished armour shone in the dawn light and his golden cloak stood out on his shoulder.

His build was a mixture of strength and robustness. With a stature that defied common standards, Ser Harwin was said to stand like a tower, indestructible, his broad, muscular shoulders conveying a sense of undeniable power. His massive, muscular body was a representation of his unrivalled strength, and his imposing aura could eclipse even the giants of the North.

His face was adorned with a sparse beard that signalled the virility of his actions, a map of lived experience. Deep lines skirted his eyes, silent witnesses to battles fought. A pair of brown eyes that have witnessed the best and worst of the court. The fierce glint of these irises, sculpted by life, seemed to reflect a wisdom moulded by the intrigues and loyalties that permeate the corridors of power.

His steps were firm, echoing a determination that resonated in the halls and battlefields, a presence that undoubtedly left a mark wherever he went. This was Ser Harwin Strong, known as Breakbones.

The knight bowed his head in deference and spoke.

— Good morning, Prince Jacaerys and Princess Vhaelys — he resumed his resolute posture. — Princess Rhaenyra, the preparations for breakfast are almost ready. I think you only have a few minutes before you meet the king and queen.

The prince and princess said good morning in unison - this happened quite often. The commander's presence, although marked by imposing physical strength, was also wrapped in a human warmth that won the hearts of Princess Rhaenyra's children.

There are those who say that the relationship between Ser Harwin and the princess's children was shaped by a genuine affection. Septon Eustace, in some of his writings, says that Breakbones was not only the knight who protected them, but a confidant, a mentor and, above all, a friend.

The children's admiration for Ser Harwin went beyond his skill with the sword and his impeccable armour. It was the honesty of his advices, his patience with their endless questions and his warm smile that won their hearts.

Princess Rhaenyra smiled and nodded to the knight.

— Thank you, Commander - she turned to her children and said. — I need to see your brother before we go to breakfast. Why don't you go and meet your uncles? I'll see you soon. — And she kissed each of them on the forehead.

They both agreed.

The princess headed for the door and left her son's chambers just as the door behind her closed. She sighed wearily.

Ser Harwin

There was a subtle exchange of glances, laden with promises and shared memories.

— The princess should rest — suggested Ser Harwin with his polished tone and deep timbre. — The end of the pregnancy is near.

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, living up to the Valyrian lineage, embodied the majesty and beauty of her house in every feature. Her hair was a cascade of liquid silver-gold, gracefully falling over her shoulders with a sheen that captured every gaze.

Her violet eyes were like incandescent stars, piercing and full of boldness, a boldness that persisted even after giving birth to Prince Jacaerys. Her expression, often marked by determination, could instantly soften when she looked at her children.

For them, her gaze took on an unparalleled tenderness. The princess's rigid posture dissolved in front of her children, revealing a woman who not only led with firmness but also harbored a maternal devotion. Her womb, a silent witness to the future of the House of the Dragon, was wrapped in luxurious robes that emphasised both her majesty and the promise of new life.

While maintaining the demeanor of a future queen, Rhaenyra carried with her a touch of softness that only motherhood could bestow. But just like everything in life, there was a price to be paid for the joy her children brought her.

The fatigue of motherhood was not only physical but also emotional, a journey that demanded not just physical strength but a resilience that transcended the limits of the body. The constant presence of the princess in the roles of mother and future queen added an extra weight to her shoulders.

Despite the weariness of potentially giving birth to her son at any moment, she remained unyielding.

—There are many things to do, Commander - her hands rested lovingly on her belly as she walked — And rest is not one of them. It seems to me that Rhaella has gone beyond the walls again... — whispered the princess.

Ser Harwin smiled.

— She went to practice with the bow — he informed. — Woke up early and passed through the kitchen, as usual. I still haven't figured out where she exits…

The princess chuckled.

— If even you haven't figured it out, then she's cleverer than I imagined… — she paused for a moment and looked through the window in the hallway. — There are guests to be received, and in the coming days, there will be more. Find her before her absence is noticed by others…

Her eyes, deep and intense, carried a veiled meaning that only they shared. There was a silent complicity, a mutual understanding that extended beyond the formalities of the court.

— As you wish, princess — his voice resonated with devotion, and with a bow, he left.

His bond with Princess Rhaenyra went beyond the duties of a simple protector; there was a deeper connection there, a bond that only the most attentive of hearts could understand.

The flame of this feeling, fuelled by intrigue and impossibility, burned brightly, illuminating the darkest corners of his being. His eyes, often hidden under impenetrable armour, reflected the duality of his position as protector and lover.

Every touch, every glance exchanged between the two was an act of rebellion against established norms, weaving a complex web of emotions that intertwined with their intertwined destinies.

However, this love, although deep, was interwoven with the fragile threads of discretion. Aware of the shadows that hung over them, Ser Harwin and Princess Rhaenyra kept their relationship away from the judgemental eyes of the court. It was a dangerous game, but for Harwin, every moment shared with Rhaenyra and her children was worth the risk.

Harwin's heart swelled even more when it came to the children. For him, each child was a reflection of the love they shared, and he welcomed them with tenderness and dedication. Each child's laughter was a symphony that echoed in his chest, each innocent gesture a reminder of the life they had built together.

Rhaella

Cavernous silence enveloped the stone walls of the secret passage as Princess Rhaella Velaryon emerged into the dimness of the basement below the kitchen. The vaulted stone ceiling cast dancing shadows over her as she made her way through hidden corridors that connected to the darkest and most secret corners of the castle.

The dim glow of the little light that managed to enter the depths of the place revealed stones worn by time, and the distant whisper of the sea echoed loudly. The path, an intricate labyrinth hidden beneath the foundations of the Red Keep, was known to few.

As the princess continued, a veiled tension weighed on her shoulders, reflected in the haste of her steps and the agitation in her eyes. The soft sound of her breathing echoed in the underground chambers as she neared her final destination: a discreet corridor in Maegor's Holdfast, close to the bedrooms.

Maegor's Holdfast was a castle that stood like an imposing sentinel in the heart of the Red Keep. With a square structure and thick walls, it was known for being impenetrable — which wasn't quite true. King Maegor had ordered the construction of some secret passages — few, but very well hidden. However, two of them had already been discovered by Rhaella and her alone.

Nevertheless, on the winding path between the shadows, fate had an unexpected encountee. As Rhaella pushed the small stone wall behind an ornamental cabinet in the castle corridor, stealthily emerging from behind the furniture to turn the corner with her quick steps — the impact was inevitable.

Ser Laenor Velaryon, her father, emerged in front of her. The encounter was like the clash of two powerful chains, a collision that reverberated through the empty corridors. The princess, for a moment, unbalanced, the force of the encounter dispelling her haste, and her eyes showed a spark of surprise.

At the same time, Ser Laenor was also taken aback. The momentary expression of shock on his face soon gave way to a mixture of concern and paternal recognition.

— Rhaella! — he grasped his daughter's shoulders. — What happened?

— Papa! — the princess spoke in surprise. — What are you doing here?

Ser Laenor quickly looked around to make sure no one was nearby, then he put his fingers to his lips to indicate silence.

— We need to keep it down — he whispered. — Are you okay?

A mischievous smile appeared on the girl's lips.

— You're hiding too! — she accused. — Left the castle without mommy knowing again and you're late.

Ser Laenor laughed.

— Guilty — he crossed his arms. — Let me guess, you sneaked out again to the cliff, and lost track of time.

She raised her hands in surrender.

— Guilty.

The man bent down to her height, lifting her bangs. With the rough hands of a swordsman, he examined the wound on Rhaella's forehead, concerned not only about the visible injury but also about what could have led to such a state.

— If your mother sees this, she'll kill both of us — he remarked. — How did this happen?

The princess, with a hint of weakness, tried to smile to reassure him, but the urgency was evident in her gaze. She shook her head, indicating that it wasn't the time for explanations.

— Papa, forget about it. Come on, quickly — she pulled him by the hand. — I need your help; Ser Harwin must be after me. And if he finds me, we'll both get a scolding from mommy.

Understanding the situation, Ser Laenor acted swiftly — he picked up the girl in his arms and headed toward the princess's chamber.

The pair continued through the silent corridors, father and daughter, sharing a secret.

Vhaelys

— These birds are watching us — Vhaelys said as she walked in the company of her brother in the lower courtyard.

— Really? — Jacaerys restrained a laugh. — Are you... how do they say it? — with her arm wrapped around his, he made them both stop walking and whispered. — Ah yes, paranoid. Or maybe our little sister filled your head with old legends last night.

Vhaelys smiled and squeezed her brother's arm as a warning sign — he shouldn't laugh at her.

— Maybe both things — the princess's dress hem rustled as she grabbed it and pulled her brother along to keep walking. — But I'm sure that raven on the top of the wall scrutinized all our movements.

Jacaerys laughed and exchanged a playful glance with his sister.

— They must be curious about the approaching celebration — a voice came from behind them. — Even the birds wish to see Jace's first flight.

— Daeron! — Jacaerys smiled upon seeing the boy.

Daeron Targaryen's golden hair cascaded in soft waves, capturing the sunlight like threads of liquid gold. His beauty was remarkable, but it was the warm and friendly expression on his face that truly highlighted his presence. The amethyst-cut eyes reflected subtle intelligence and the kindness that defined his reputation, emanating a serene light that calms and attracts.

Even at such a young age, the refined and graceful posture he held revealed a confidence that was not imposed but innate.

The prince wore a finely crafted fabric tunic, adorned with delicate details that indicated not only his royal position but also his refined taste. The chosen colors seemed to complement the softness of his smile, while the embroidered symbols revealed to which house he belonged.

— Good morning, Jace... — he greeted the prince with a smile and then bowed to his niece. — Good morning, Lys.

— Good morning, Daeron — the princess replied, trying to hide the smile that threatened to appear on her lips. — Has Helaena left for the hall?

— I can't tell you — the young prince looked back at the tower behind him. — I haven't seen any of my siblings this morning. But I believe she should arrive with my mother.

— I see... — she sighed dejectedly. — I hoped to meet her on the way.

— Daeron, are you going to practice in the Dragonpit today? — Jacaearys asked.

The prince turned his gaze away from his niece.

— I intend to — he smiled. — After we receive the guests with my mother, I can ask Ser Criston to take us there.

— That would be great! — Jacaerys replied excitedly. — Aegon said he'd give me some tips, but he didn't show up yesterday...

— Aegon... Well, how to put it... — Daeron sighed. — He's Aegon.

Jacaerys laughed.

— Did he get into trouble again?

— The question would be when is he not in trouble? — Daeron murmured. — Aegon and mother are not on good terms, so don't be surprised if his mood is unpleasant. You know...

— But is he okay?

— I don't know, you know how he is...

— I think we should head to the hall before they miss us — the princess warned. — I'd hate to receive a reprimand.

The princes agreed in silence and headed towards their destination.

Ser Laenor

The tranquil atmosphere of the room was disrupted by the entrance of Ser Laenor, who accompanied Rhaella to the edge of the bed. Carefully, he positioned his daughter in a seated position, focusing his attention on the cut on her forehead.

— Let's take care of this, my dear — he said. Stepping away, he began searching for something around the room.  — We don't want a scar.

— A scar? — the girl exclaimed, startled. — It wasn't that deep, papa. Look, it's already stopped bleeding.

Laenor chuckled from the other side of the room.

— Papa, maybe you should check the false bottom in the dressing table drawer. Lys keeps a wooden box with ointments for these situations.

Laenor, curious and grateful for the discovery, retrieved the box and found a treasure trove of medicinal solutions prepared by his eldest daughter.

— You and your sister always surprise me, — he said, taking the box out of the drawer. — How many times have you been injured?

— Just a few scratches here and there — the girl said, swinging her feet absentmindedly.  — Lys is very good at taking care of them.

— Has your sister been sneaking things out of the meisters' room? Where did she get all this?

Opening the box, the man found an enchanting array of small vials carefully organised. The scent of herbs enveloped the room.

He identified jars containing wine and vinegar, each playing a unique role in the preparation of treatments. The wine, known for its antiseptic and anti-inflammatory properties, demonstrated Vhaelys' attention to detail. Vinegar, meanwhile, could be used to clean and disinfect wounds.

Small dried leaves from various medicinal plants were carefully arranged in separate compartments. Vhaelys, with her expertise, had selected each herb with specific properties, creating a versatile collection for different needs.

Alongside the leaves, Laenor found homemade ointments made from a mixture of natural ingredients. These ointments, duly labelled by the princess, promised relief for her sister's injuries.

— Well... — she laughed. — We both made them, but I brought some of the leaves. But it's a secret, papa. Don't tell anyone, okay? Lys will be angry if she finds out I let you take this.

The man laughed, but his heart swelled with love.

— I promise I won't tell - he held out his finger to the girl. — A knight's word.

The girl wrapped her finger around his and smiled.

— A knight's word.

He approached his daughter's face and brushed away the small strands of hair that had fallen out. He gently took the clean cloth he had found and moistened it in vinegar, and began to gently wipe the cut on Rhaella's forehead. The sensation of the cool liquid contrasted with the temperature of her skin, but the man tried to carry out the procedure gently, ensuring that the cleaning was effective without causing any further discomfort to his daughter.

— It looks more superficial than I thought. You'll be fine.

As he worked, the soft light in the room emphasised Laenor's calm expression, contrasting with Rhaella's anxiety. The vinegar, with its antiseptic properties, played its part in purifying the wound.

— Your sister really cares about you. — Dad smiled. — But you should be more careful, little one. Try not to get yourself and your sister into trouble, okay?

Princess Rhaella agreed sadly.

― I know. I'm sorry, papa.

― It's okay — he applied ointment to the wound. ― Looks like we're done. Are there any more injuries that need attention?

The girl smiled mischievously and lifted the skirt of her dress to show scratched knees, then turned her palms to her father.

― Maybe a few more...

Ser Laenor sighed.

― Will you tell me how you got all of this? — he said, focused on cleaning the scratches.

― I slipped on the cliff... — when she noticed her father stopped what he was doing and looked at her worried, she quickly added, ― Nothing too dangerous. Just like you said, I didn't go that high this time.

― I would hardly classify slipping on the cliff as nothing too dangerous, Rhae — he raised his eyebrows.

The girl smiled.

― Oh, papa, I promise it wasn't really dangerous.

The father returned his attention to the other knee.

― Rhaella, I didn't give you a bow as a gift to put yourself in danger like this — once he finished cleaning the wound, he focused on applying the ointment. ―If your mother found you the way I found you, you would have given her a damn heart attack. Or worse, what if the queen found you like this?

The girl's expression changed.

― I know. I'm sorry... — she sighed disappointedly. ― I meant to come back earlier, really. But I got distracted, and by the time I noticed, the bell was already ringing... And I ended up slipping when I tried to come faster. I'll be more careful.

― Okay, as long as you know that, it's enough — he took one of the girl's hands and applied vinegar. ―We don't want to bring trouble to your mother.

When Sor Laenor finished tending to all the scratches on his daughter, they both realized they needed to hurry to breakfast as soon as possible.

― I'll call Eileen; you need to get ready — he turned to the door, but was stopped by the girl's hands.

― No, we can't call Eileen — the girl ran to another corner of the room where the dresses were. ― We don't have time; the seventh bell rang a while ago. You'll have to help me, papa.

― Rhaella, you need to wash up ― he looked at the girl's face and hair still matted with dried blood. ―There's no way you can get to the hall in this state.

The room shared by Princess Rhaella and her sister was a sanctuary of elegance and comfort. The sturdy, finely adorned stone walls gave the space an aura of royalty. The duality of personalities was reflected in the meticulously chosen decoration.

The high ceiling extended over a majestic canopy bed, intricately carved, with silk curtains flowing gracefully. Fine linens and meticulously embroidered pillows provided a touch of refinement.

Luxurious rugs, woven with intricate patterns, covered the cold floor, providing a welcoming atmosphere. A fireplace carved with dragon details offered warmth and soft lighting. In addition, two leather armchairs, one on each side of the room, provided comfortable places for reflection.

Small details revealed the distinct personalities of the sisters. Shelves housed favorite books and personal items, reflecting each one's unique interests. The gentle scent of scented candles permeated the room, creating a cozy atmosphere.

In the corner, separated by a long wooden screen, there was a bronze bathtub adorned with flower paintings. And around it, soft fabrics and robes hung, ready to envelop the sisters in comfort after a rejuvenating bath.

Laenor's eyes wandered around the room and settled on a bucket next to the bathtub. He approached, picked up the small container nearby, and dipped it into the bucket.

It was water.

― Rhaella, was this water from yesterday's bath?

― Oh, yes! Lys didn't use all the water they brought ― she said without taking her eyes off the dresses, and for a moment she seemed to have an awakening. ―Papa! That's it! You're a genius; we can use this water to clean me up!

Sor Laenor laughed.

― Well, that's what I was thinking ― he rolled up his sleeves. ― We need to be quick, come on!

― I still haven't found the dress! ― frustrated, she huffed.

― Come and clean up, and I'll look for it, okay? ― Laenor approached his daughter. ―Which one is the dress?

― It's the black and blue one, you know? The one grandpa Corlys gave me.

― All right, ― he smiled. ― I'll look for it; now, go clean up quickly.

She agreed.

The dark wooden cupboards were full of exquisite costumes, but Ser Laenor, aware of his daughter's tastes, searched meticulously through the garments. With a masterful touch, his skilful hands found the desired fabric, and he removed the dress with a triumphant gesture.

― Here you are, darling. This is the one you were looking for, isn't it? ― Ser Laenor asked, presenting the black and blue dress, adorned with delicate details.

― Yes, Papa, this is it. Thank you.

Ser Laenor arched an eyebrow and asked.

― Haven't you started cleaning up yet?

The girl pouted and whispered.

― The water's too cold...

Ser Laenor rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

― Anyone who's late has no right to complain about the water, Rhaella ― he laughed, putting his dress on the screen. ― Come on, I'll help you. We need to be quick.

The bucket, sturdy and polished, rested in skilful hands as Ser Laenor lifted it to pour the water into the tub. Clear, sparkling drops fell from the container with a soft sound, echoing in the calm atmosphere of the room.

The water, now released, created delicate ripples on the surface of the bronze tub. It was as if tiny liquid diamonds were dancing in the light, capturing and reflecting the golden hues that permeated the room.

Rhaella, waiting with anticipation, finally stepped into the tub after it had been filled. The clear liquid enveloped the princess in its cold embrace, causing a wave of goose bumps.

Ser Laenor, attentive to his daughter's expression, skilfully completed the task, allowing the water to reach the desired level. He placed the bucket on the floor and leaned close to the table to pick up the soap, handing it to his daughter.

Rhaella took the vegetable oil soap, with its enveloping fragrance of calendula and rosemary, and began to apply it to her skin. The soft texture of the soap glided delicately over her body, leaving behind a trail of perfumed foam. The enveloping fragrance of calendula and rosemary wafted through the air, creating an atmosphere of freshness and relaxation.

Rhaella's movements were cadenced and gentle, as she dedicated herself to cleansing every centimetre of her skin. She spread the soap on her hands while trying to remove the dirt from her nails.

Ser Laenor, realising the need for more specific care, picked up the washcloth from the table and began to gently scrub Rhaella's back. The vegetable fibres, impregnated with foam from the oil soap, glided delicately over the princess's skin, gently removing any trace of dirt or impurity.

With skilful and attentive gestures, Ser Laenor concentrated on the areas most prone to the accumulation of impurities, such as the nails and the hardest-to-reach parts of the back. The loofah, in his hands, became an instrument of care, an extension of paternal affection as he ensured that his daughter was completely clean.

The soft sound of the loofah gliding across her skin blended with the murmur of the water in the bath. Dedicated to his task, Ser Laenor picked up the small container, dipped it into the water to collect a little and carefully poured it over Rhaella's head. The water, now charged with the essence of soap, ran down the princess's hair, carrying with it any trace of her adventures.

At the feel of the cold water, the princess let out a pained moan and another wave of goosebumps ran down her back.

— Papa! — she exclaimed, as she tried to remove the strands of hair now stuck to her face.

— We're almost done, don't be such a whiner.

He gently massaged his daughter's scalp, his skilful fingers working to wipe away the trace of blood that persisted. The foam turned into a fragrant cascade, enveloping the strands of Rhaella's hair.

And in that serene silence, Ser Laenor not only washed his daughter's hair, but also wove an intangible tapestry of affectionate memories. Each touch resonated in a connection that transcended time and the ages.

Daeron

The Small Hall, a majestic enclosure within the Red Keep, unfolded in grandeur under a high, vaulted ceiling. The room, designed to hold up to two hundred people, boasted a refined grandstand that ran the length of the room, offering a splendid view to all who had the privilege of taking their seats

Carefully arranged tables adorned the space, offering an elegant and functional setting for important meetings and events. The imposing, richly carved wooden doors guarded the entrance, inviting those present to walk through the ornate entrance.

The choice of location had been prompted by the preparation of the Great Hall for the Princes' Name Day. However, unlike the vastness of the Great Hall, the Small Hall had a more intimate atmosphere, with its tapestry-covered walls and polished floor.

— It looks like we're just in time — said Jacaerys. — We're the first.

Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting golden reflections on the meticulously prepared tables. Arranged in symmetrical rows, they boasted embroidered linen tablecloths and a collection of fine plates and silver cutlery. Arrangements of fresh flowers, picked from the gardens of the Red Fortress, adorned the centre of each table, spreading a soft fragrance throughout the room.

— Mummy must be on her way... — the princess murmured. — Let's sit down and wait.

The enticing aroma of freshly prepared food enveloped the small room, creating a combination of smells that aroused the senses. Small portions of freshly baked biscuits, with a golden crust that seemed to crumble at the slightest pressure, were displayed on an engraved silver tray.

The servants moved gracefully, serving the delicacies with attention. Their silent but hurried footsteps added to the atmosphere of the hall, while silver plates and utensils tinkled softly under their skilful hands.

A large brown bowl, permeated by the comforting warmth of cooked oats, was adorned with slices of fresh apple and sprinkled with a generous pinch of cinnamon. The cosy scent enveloped the Small Hall, awakening the promise of morning comfort.

Orderly rows of loaves of bread of different shapes and textures took pride of place and exuded an irresistible fragrance of fresh fermentation.

Porcelain chalices contained almond milk, with its creamy texture and smooth flavour. Silver kettles released steam while mint and nettle teas infused the room with a combination of aromas. The freshness of the mint and the herbal notes of the nettle danced in the air, creating a relaxing atmosphere.

The Knights posted at the entrances to the small hall kept a discreet watch over the place. Their watchful eyes swept the room, ensuring the safety of the Royal family.

There were moments — not many, but a few — when Prince Daeron seemed content with his family's absence. It was nothing new that when everyone was together the tension increased, and everyone's thoughts could be heard if someone looked closely.

Daeron liked little company, and each of them was well selected. He wore a thoughtful smile, but in his heart there was a loneliness that no child should hide.

Ever since the conversation with his mother about possibly being sent to Oldtown - his mind had been filled with anxiety and anguish. But as soon as he crossed the courtyard and met his nephews, calm set in.

It was true that he preferred Tessarion's company more than anyone else's, but he cherished the moments with Helaena and Vhaelys. They were attentive, and their conversations were curious and thought-provoking. Even if it was about embroidery — he would still enjoy it.

He didn't notice that he was staring intensely at the princess in front of him, his amethyst eyes gazing at her with curiosity, even though he didn't understand what she was talking about. Until he was asked.

— Daeron?

He blinked confusedly, as if he had just woken up from a deep dream.

She laughed.

— You didn't hear anything, did you? — her eyes were shrewd and teasing. — I asked if you and Jace had read The Reckoning of Time. Jace said no.

— Ah, yes... — he tried to regain his posture. — No, I mean I haven't read it. What would it be about?

— Don't push her, Daeron.  She'll start rambling about time again.

Daeron smiled and arched an eyebrow.

— Well! You see… — she seemed ready to give a speech. — It is considered a grand work. It is, indeed. Archmaester Walgram delved deeply into the issue of ancient studies, where various cultures count days, seasons, and years differently. You see, I've already spoken about this.  The way we perceive time is so senseless. Other people might perceive it differently! The concept of time is so… I don't even have words. Oh, it really makes me… how do you say it? Truly…

— Bothered? —  Daeron suggested.

— Exactly! Bothered, that's the word.

Jacaerys began to laugh.

— Two things you shouldn't mention around Lys. The time and cats. She won't keep quiet about that...

Vhaelys rolled her eyes.

— It's just that you boys can only think about swords and fights. It's hard for you to keep up with my reasoning, Jace.

Jacaerys stared at her in confusion.

— Did you mean to say I'm less intelligent?

— Oh, I didn't say anything. You should spend less time with Aegon your head is becoming as empty as his — she turned to Daeron. — No offense.

Daeron laughed.

— I'm not offended.

— Hey! Wait a minute, I study as much as you do, Lys — accused the brother.

— Yes, of course you do. But it wasn't me who confused Evenfall Hall with Harrenhal... — she teased.

— It was one time, Lys! Just once!

— Well, there was that other time you said—

— All right! — Jace interrupted. — Very clever of you...

While laughter echoed in the room, Daeron couldn't help but wonder if he would ever have the confidence to share lighthearted moments and jokes with his own siblings.

Aegon's judgmental gaze and Aemond's more reserved demeanor seemed to form a barrier, making him a distant observer of the more intimate family dynamics. Restlessness grew within him as the dilemma of possibly having to say goodbye and leave for Oldtown cast a shadow over his heart.

Among laughter and shared memories, Daeron would realize that his journey was his alone and that, perhaps, finding his own voice within the complex family fabric would require time and patience.

— For your information, we've already learned about the Ghiscari wars, haven't we? — Jacaerys directed his question to Daeron.

— Oh, yes, Maester Gavin taught us...

— Five times did Old Ghis fight Valyria when the world was young, and five times did they lose — Jacaerys rambled. — Imagine the number of dragons in those days...

— It's said that the ancient Ghiscari Empire was the first great civilization in the known world. According to Maester Gerardys, the empire was already forming before the Long Night... — a shiver ran through the princess. — Eight thousand years ago.

— The Long Night... — Jacaerys sighed. — Rhaella loves hearing about those legends, doesn't she?

— Well, let's change the subject. I don't find it the least bit enjoyable to talk about it on a morning like this. Or any morning, actually...

— Do you believe in the legends, Lys? — Daeron asked curiously.

— It's not that I believe; I just don't think it's good to talk about...

— Has Rhae been reading about demons and giant ice spiders to you and Helaena again? — Jacaerys smiled. — Septa Noelle must love that.

Vhaelys nudged her brother as a reprimand.

— For your information, Septa Noelle hasn't complained about anything. We've all been studying very well, thank you.

— Speaking of Rhaella... — Daeron spoke up. — Where is she?

Aemond

Aemond was immersed in the pages of his book, each word an escape to a distant place. His serious and concentrated countenance revealed his curiosity for the written words, whose stories flowed through the lines like winding rivers.

In the silence of that moment, the door slowly opened, revealing the majestic figure of Queen Alicent and the graceful presence of his sister Helaena. Their gazes fell on Aemond, who didn't lift his eyes from the book.

Alicent Hightower, the queen consort, radiated elegance with every graceful movement. Her noble features were emphasised by a serene expression, indicating the presence of a queen. Her hair was tied up in an elaborate hairstyle, which gave a clear view of her expressions.

The dress, meticulously designed, hugged the queen's figure impeccably. The green colour chosen was so deep that it could be compared to the dense shade of a lush forest. Luxurious and ornate fabrics made up the outfit, giving it a quality that only a queen could boast.

Intricate details adorned the sleeves and collar of the dress, adding an intricacy that echoed belonging to House Hightower. Fine jewellery, matching the lush green, sparkled on her fingers and neck, subtly reflecting the light.

— Aemond, it's time for breakfast. Come, my son.

While the promise of a meal brought with it the anticipation of sharing the table with his family, there was a heaviness in his heart that grew by the minute. The echo of talk of dragons and flying would fill his ears, and he would have to hide his frustrations.

King Viserys, his father, would talk animatedly with Jacaerys and Daeron about the Name Day and expectations about the flight. For the Targaryens, these majestic creatures represented not only symbols of power, but also a magical connection to Valyria's heritage. However, this connection had escaped Aemond, leaving him in a state of despondency and insecurity.

He couldn't have been more despondent about breakfast.

— Aemond? — Queen Alicent called out again.

— Can't I stay away from breakfast today? — he asked, even though he already knew the answer. — Just today...

She watched Aemond with a stern expression as he reluctantly took part in breakfast. Her usually serene eyes became as sharp as razor blades at her son's attitude. The sternness on her face reflected not only maternal authority, but also the expectation that her son fulfil his duties.

— Aemond, I understand that we don't always want to follow through on our responsibilities, but the commitments of your position are undeniable - with a firm voice and obvious patience, she continued - We're close to your brother's name day celebration. There are guests, and we need to show perfection. What do you think they would say if they knew you were absent from breakfast? There are whispers in this castle, Aemond. I need you to do this, okay? Everything has to go according to plan.

Aemond opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it.

— I know you don't want to hear about dragons — she sighed. — Even I'm tired of always hearing about these beasts. But one day, I told you, you'll have your own dragon. When the time is right. For now, I just need you to fulfil your duties, understand?

He agreed.

— Yes, mother. I'll do what you want.

Alicent smiled.

— I'm proud — she paused, then looked at the book her son was reading. — What are you reading?

 — The Edge of the World by Maester Balder. It's a collection of tales and legends.

— And the seven-pointed star? You're reading it, right?

— Yes, I read it last night before going to sleep as you instructed.

— Ah Aemond, I'm happy. I really am - she caressed her son's face. — You'll be a great man, faith will keep you on the right path. The seven will guide you, you'll see.

The little prince's chest swelled, he could make his mother proud. His father never paid him enough attention, and without a dragon Aemond was apparently nothing in his eyes. However, in his mother's eyes he could be great and ruthless if he wanted to.

It was great to have her recognition.

— If Aegon were just a little more like you... — she rubbed her face. — May the seven help me.

— There's blood on swords... — murmured Helaena in the corner of the room. — Cracked heads... blood, blood.

Helaena was a unique girl, wrapped in a cloak of strangeness and sensitivity that sometimes seemed incoherent with the reality around her. The boy was used to her sometimes disjointed speech, which manifested an inner dialogue that remained enigmatic to those around him. Her words were like fragments of dreams escaping, creating a web of mystery around him. Aemond couldn't help but wonder about the thoughts that inhabited his sister's mind, a peculiar and confusing world that he couldn't fully understand.

The queen looked at her daughter with affection and reached up to stroke her hair. But as always, the princess shied away from the touch.

— Helaena, darling... — the queen sighed. — That's all right. I think we should go to the small hall now. Today will be intense.

— Is Aegon awake yet?

— Of course he is, I sent him to the small parlour first, so there wouldn't be any unforeseen circumstances... - she tightened the skirts of her dress. - From today onwards, the next few days must be perfect. You all need to look good.

— Do I need to welcome the guests with you?

— It won't be necessary, Daeron will do it. It's his name day, so it's only fair. Don't you have a lesson with Gavin this afternoon?

— Yes, mother. We're going over the arrival of the Andals and the Age of Valyria. It's been very productive.

— That's great. And Septon Eustace? Is he teaching you well about the faith?

— Oh yes, Septon Eustace has made us repeat often that men bow to their lords, and lords to their kings, so kings and queens must bow to the Seven Who Are One. That's the order.

— Septon Eustace is a wise man, he's right about that - she smiled cheerfully. — Remember, Aemond, that the laws of kings are one thing and the laws of the gods are another.

Alicent adjusted her posture and set off resolutely towards the door.

— We're wasting time. Come on, my children — as soon as the door opened, Ser Criston Cole approached and whispered something in her ear. The queen's expression changed, her eyebrows arched and a disapproving look crossed her eyes. — I wonder if that child will ever learn to behave like a real princess. But I think it's unlikely, the apple does not fall far from the tree...

Aemond didn't have to think too hard to realise who his mother was referring to.

Alicent Hightower's stern expression unleashed a storm of thoughts in Aemond's mind. His eyes, turned away from his mother's reproachful gaze, sought refuge in the memory of the moments shared with his niece.

He was used to his mother's judgements about Princess Rhaella's behaviour, especially when compared to the strict standards of the court. But for Aemond, the girl represented a breath of fresh air in the midst of expectations.

A bright spark amidst the shadows of rigidity, she epitomised freedom and authenticity for Aemond. Like an artist of the imagination, she transported him to lands of fantasy and dreams, where conventions were forgotten and the magic of the mind could flourish.

The young prince knew that, in his mother's eyes, the connection with his niece was viewed with disdain, a deviation from the paths she had set for him. However, Aemond couldn't give up the joy that the girl's presence brought, and every laugh shared became a rare treasure that he secretly treasured.

[linaaaa3]

All Because Of You

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1987

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: Michael Is at the studio and he can't get you out of his mind, so he calls you up there to give you something to remember.

Tags: love, interconnected, Comfort, Support, happiness, slow burn, fluff, smut.

TW: NSFW, established relationship, 18+, Fingering, orgasm, and more…

Word count: 1k

Aurthor’s note: First time writing a short story on here, be nice!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Michael sat in the studio with Quincy, feeling a sense of normalcy wash over him, much like any other day. As he adjusted his headphones, he sensed a familiar comfort in the routine. Quincy gave him the cue to start, and with a gentle nod, Michael began to sing "Liberian Girl." But as he poured his heart into each note, his thoughts drifted to you. Your sweet face, which he cherished deeply, filled his mind, transforming every lyric into a heartfelt tribute to the love he felt for you. Michael felt a deep longing for your presence at that moment, but he was caught up in his work. He was determined to finish the song for his album, knowing how important it was to him. Balancing his emotions with his responsibilities was difficult, and he hoped you could understand the urgency he felt. Quincy glanced over at Michael, a hint of anticipation in his voice. "We’re about to dive into the vocals, Michael. You ready?" He could see Michael lost in thought, a distant look in his eyes.

Michael took a moment to shake off the distraction as he contemplated the long hours they had ahead in the studio. With a deep, steadying breath, he braced himself for the intensity of the work. Yet, even amidst the flurry of musical notes and melodies swirling around him, his mind kept drifting back to thoughts of you. The yearning to see you again cast a shadow over his focus, making the hours seem even longer as he mentally counted down to the moment he would be reunited with you.

Just a few hours into an intense recording session, Michael felt a surge of impatience coursing through him—he had to see you. Without a second thought, he shot you a text, urging you to meet him at the studio because something important was on his mind. “Quincy, I need to take a break,” he announced, his voice tinged with urgency. “It’s been hours of non-stop recording, and I need to rejuvenate.” Quincy, sensing the weight of Michael’s emotions, nodded empathetically. “I understand. Just let me know if you need anything,” he replied before heading out the door, likely to find refuge in the break room. The tension in the air was palpable, and the anticipation of what Michael wanted to share added an electric thrill to the moment!

Michael reclined on the couch, anxiously awaiting your arrival. He found himself missing your presence—the comforting scent that lingered in the air and the graceful way your hips swayed as you walked. Overwhelmed by emotions, he gently closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath, longing for the warmth of your company.

He heard the soft click of the door swinging open, yet kept his eyes shut, assuming it was Quincy entering the room. “Michael,” you whispered gently, your voice a warm caress in the stillness. Instantly, his eyelids fluttered open, revealing a smile that lit up his face. He sat up quickly, drawing you into a tender embrace, the warmth of his body enveloping you like a cozy blanket. As he inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of you filled his senses, and he let out a slow exhale, his breath brushing against your skin and sending delightful shivers cascading down your spine.

“I missed you so much, Princess,” he murmured, his warm breath brushing against your lips. You returned his gentle gaze with a soft smile, lightly caressing his hair. “I missed you too, Michael. I wanted to come sooner, but I didn’t want to impose on you,” you confessed, looking into his deep brown eyes, filled with understanding.

Michael furrowed his brow, his eyebrows arching upward in surprise. “You should have come,” he said, his voice low and gentle, yet laced with concern. “You’re never intruding on anything.” The warmth in his tone contrasted with the seriousness of his expression, inviting reassurance.

Michael gently takes your hand, leading you into a dimly lit, isolated room. As he closes the door behind you, he makes sure to lock it securely, creating a barrier between you and the outside world. He glances around to ensure no one is watching before turning off his microphone, signaling that this moment is private. With a sense of urgency, he pulls you into a corner of the room, tucking you both away from the view of the large window. The air feels charged as he leans in closer, creating a sense of intimacy in this hidden space away from prying eyes.

With a smoldering intensity in his eyes, he bites his lip, gently cradling your face as he pulls you into a passionate, fiery kiss that ignites the air around you. You let out a soft gasp at his boldness, considering that Michael is the shy type, you just don't know what has gotten into him. His fingers trickle up your back, causing shivers making it so much more intense. The sound of you and Michael’s lips together got more heated within seconds. He pulled away just a little to catch his breath and to look at your beauty, his eyes grazed at the arousal on your face and how flustered you were.

He gave you a beautiful smile kissing your lips, his hair in a frizzy ponytail to the back with his few curls hanging in his face, you could see little spots of his vitiligo and it only made him look even lovelier, You loved that, even if he didn't.

“You are so beautiful” he whispered brushing his lips on your neck and nibbling on your soft skin, he gripped your waist pulling you flush against him. You let out a soft moan, only making Michael want you more, his self-control slipping away by the second.

“Michael, Get out of there!” Quincy spoke knocking on the glass. Michael looked at me, “Moan” he directly asked, “W-What-” You spoke in confusion, getting cut off by Michael’s hand in your panties, and began to rub your bud fast, keeping eye contact. You closed your eyes bit, your lip, and let a groan come out, “Baby let him know what's happening, louder,” he slipped his two fingers inside of you causing you to let out a breathy moan, “M-Michael,” You moaned. Michael's eyes darkened. “Louder baby,” he whispered, the pace of his fingers fastening, and gliding inside you with ease from your slippery walls. Your mouth opened letting out whimpers, grabbing hold of his arms for support, for you had gone almost weak in the knees.

He went faster feeling you clench around his fingers, “Michael, M-Fuck!” the feeling in your abdomen tightened. Michael watched the desire on your face with a smirk enjoying every second of it, while he on the other hand was aroused, he was damn near the edge without touching himself, But your pleasures always come first.

You pulsated on his Fingers, feeling your panties covered in your essence. You bit your lip gripping his shoulders hard, feeling yourself about to cum. You held onto the release until you felt a familiar coil in your abdomen, “Michael…” You let out helplessly, as you came hard on his fingers breathing hard. He slowly slipped his fingers out with a ‘Pop’ sound and brought them to his mouth sucking them dry.

[gatabella]

Princess Grace and her kids Princess Caroline, Prince Albert and Princess Stéphanie

“It doesn’t seem like 40 years. Many times during a day, a week, not only do I find myself thinking of her, but numbers of people still recall her to me. They remember her and that’s a great tribute to her and who she was — to what an exceptional human being she was.”

-Prince Albert of Monaco