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drunk-person · 5 months ago

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The Promises We Make

Pairing: King!Aemond Targaryen x lover!reader

Summary: She was supposed to be his. Not that filthy bastard. He knew her first. He loved her first. Only to they give her hand in marriage to Jacaerys Velaryon. But now the war is won, and as the new king Aemond can have whatever he wants, and he wants her. He wants to fulfill the promise he made to her outside the sept all those years ago.

WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, forced voyeurism, consensual exhibitionism, fingering, oral sex F and M receiving, anal sex (very little, but it's there), possessive sex, dom/sub tones if you squint, mentions of murder, Aemond murdering more kin, bastardophobia, Jacaerysphobia, no description for reader.

Word cont: 4.800k

A/n: My little contribution to Halloween "very evil laugh here". To my Aemond wives: This is basically the dirtiest, slightly darkest thing I've ever written, I'm blushing as I post it. Let's go!

Before

The sept was full of people to watch Prince Jacaerys' wedding, he waited anxiously next to the septon for the bride's arrival while slightly moving his hands.

The door opened and Lady Y/n walked in, at the same moment everyone turned to look at her. Y/n smiled beautifully as she struggled to walk down the hallway, feeling her legs still wobbly and slightly damp.

Her eyes burned as they met Jacaerys' and her smile grew even wider. Her steps became more confident, and when she reached the end of the walk, she stopped in front of the septon, still with that smile on her face.

Jacaerys watched her, visibly confused. They had met about three moons ago and the wedding had been arranged. Until then, he hadn't thought she was so eager to get married, since she barely spoke to him usually. But there she was, eager to marry him.

Interlude

Things had never been so bad. His mother and brothers had perished, and from what he could tell Daemon had also found the stranger, only he was left, the last one to survive. Jacaerys did not know if this was a gift or a punishment.

He could have fled, gone to the free cities and been free now. But he was no coward, he was a Targaryen and would not back down. But courage did not help him much when his uncle's men captured him and brought him to the black cells of the red keep.

Aemond Targaryen. Not content with the title of kinslayer after murdering Luke, he sought even deeper immoralities.

He murdered one by one all the ratcatchers at Aegon's command while they begged for their lives. He killed Rhaenys and exposed the charred remains of the queen who never be, to the kingdom after her victory. He personally beheaded each of the remaining ones who swore fealty to Rhaenyra. He burned the riverlands until only ashes remained on the ground without caring if there were innocents there. He personally exterminated House Strong from end to end, sparing no nobles or bastards, women or children.

At the end of the war, when everything seemed lost, he guided his uncle, Daemon Targaryen, into a trap. From what little was known, Aemond Targaryen lured him to Harrenhall Castle, where, separated from Caraxes, he ambushed him in a dark corridor and before the Rogue Prince knew what was happening, he was dead.

And now with the death of Aegon, who had finally succumbed to his wounds and died shortly after murdering Rhaenyra. Aemond had lost his title of one-eyed prince and kinslayer in favor of a new one.

King Aemond Targaryen, the cruel.

Now

The cell was opened with a loud noise and Jacaerys turned to see two guards enter the cell and drag him out without further explanation. And he just followed them without question, but he began to frown when he noticed that he was being taken to the bedroom wing of the fortress.

-Where are you taking me? - He asked, but received no answer.

The guards took him to one of the rooms, tied him to a chair with a thick rope, and without saying a word to him, left him there alone.

A little while later, the door opened behind Jacaerys, who felt the back of his neck shiver. The temperature in the room seemed to drop, and suddenly all sounds seemed to become quieter. There was no need to look back to know who had entered the room.

A low murmur left no doubt, Aemond had ordered him to be taken there.

-Enjoying your stay, my Lord Strong? - He asked in that cynical and cruel voice that made Jacaerys's blood boil in his veins.

-Velaryon. - He growled through his teeth, and Aemond just hummed as he gently curved his lips.

-No, it isn't. And we both know that. But now I don't need to pretend that you're nothing more than a bastard dressed as a prince walking around the court. - Aemond had a deadly voice as he spoke.

-What are you going to do? Murder me tied up like the coward that you are? Just like you did with Luke?

Aemond laughed as if Jacaerys was telling a joke.

-Please don't try to boost your own ego, we both also know that you wouldn't last even a breath in combat against me. - When he finished, Aemond was serious again.

-I'm not going to kill you, at least not yet. - His cruel voice sounded through the room.

-So what do you want from me? - Jacaerys glared at him angrily. - If you expect me to bend the knee, forget it, I will never do it.

-I don't need bastards to bend the knee to me, their false loyalty doesn't represent any value to me. I'm already the king. - He walked while mocking Jacaerys.

-But there are certain things that need to be put in their proper place. There are some promises I made that need to be kept because after all I am a man of my word.

Jacaerys did not understand a word of what Aemond was saying, and came to think that he had finally lost his mind. Until then there was a knock on the door and he said the words that changed everything.

-Come in, my dear.

The door opened and then closed behind him, soft footsteps sounded against the floor and to Jacaerys's horror when the person finally entered his field of vision he discovered that the one who had come through the door was Y/n, his Y/n. He clenched his fists, locking his jaw, trying to free himself from the chair. Aemond approached her and passed the back of his right hand gently across her face as she closed her eyes.

-Get away from her. - Jacaerys shouted in fury.

-I could. - Aemond just laughed as he addressed him again. - If she wanted me to stay away.

-She never wanted you, my dear bastard. It was always me. - Aemond's mocking smile almost tore his cheeks as he caressed Y/n's neck with his fingertips, his stomach tingling with contentment as he saw her sweet, soft skin shivering with his touch.

-Lie. - Jacaerys practically shouted as he stared at Aemond with cold eyes.

-I'm going to show you the lie. - The king said, suddenly becoming very serious, his eyes flashing in the direction of his bastard nephew.

-Take off your clothes. - He ordered Y/n who hesitated for a second because she was in front of Jacaerys.

-Aemond… - She blushed visibly looking at his hands.

-I said take off your clothes. - He murmured the order very seriously as he gently caressed her chin.

She then obeyed, and looking only at Aemond she removed them piece by piece little by little, becoming completely naked. The look of pure desire he gave her made her press her thighs together tightly as she bit her lip, momentarily forgetting that Jace was in the room.

-Come here, my love. - He called her, extending his hand and Y/n immediately went to meet him eagerly.

-Always so obedient to me. - He said, stroking her hair as she practically rubbed her head against his hand.

Jacaerys watched this without reacting. Y/n had never obeyed him, she seemed like a wild horse. She wouldn't let him touch her, she was never willing to sleep with him, she was cold and cruel no matter what he tried, the few times they lay together she hadn't even moved in bed, or completely removed her clothes, seeming to do nothing. the slightest matter of being there. And now here she was obediently naked before Aemond as she melted into his touches.

Aemond moved his hands down to her nipples and squeezed them languidly, making her open her mouth in a soft moan, while she leaned towards him, silently begging for more. He then brought his mouth to her left nipple, sucking and kissing it, making her moan softly for him as he caressed his hair, pulling his mouth closer and closer to her.

The king then brought his right hand to the top of Y/n's thighs and smiled mischievously against the flesh of her breast, still with the nipple between his teeth, as he felt the moisture that was there.

-Always so wet for me.

He then had an idea. And releasing Y/n, causing her to let out a groan of frustration, he positioned a chair in front of Jacaerys a short distance away.

-Sit here, my dear. - He waved his hand, and Y/n, even hesitantly, did so.

-Now I want you to open your beautiful legs for me, and rest them on the chair. - He spoke in that soft voice and Y/n felt herself blushing to the roots of her hair for doing that in front of Jacaery, but she did it anyway.

Aemond stopped behind her and slowly ran his hand down Y/n's body, caressing her breasts, her belly until he reached where he wanted. And then he opened the lips of her pussy, exposing her to Jace. The wetness dripped from inside her uncontrollably, wet like Jace had never seen.

Aemond smiled mischievously as he gently caressed her folds, spreading more and more of the fluids that ran from her pussy, making her moan and gasp.

-Just look at her, Jacaerys. - He said maliciously. - Melting for me, so wet.

-Has she ever wet herself like this for you? - He said, slapping Y/n's pearl, making her scream as she threw her head back.

-That's enough! - Jacaerys shouted, fuming with rage at seeing his wife in that situation.

Aemond just laughed darkly as he inserted two fingers into Y/n's intimacy, who threw her head back in pleasure with the movements he made.

-Oh my dear Lord Strong, this will only end when I have fucked each of her delicious holes in front of you and taught you how a lady likes to be treated.

As he said that, he squeezed that spongy spot inside Y/n, making her beg for his name in pure desperation. Her moist flesh pressed against Aemond's fingers, begging for more contact, begging to be filled.

-Always making such sweet sounds for me, sweet girl. - Aemond whispered close to her ear, making Y/n gasp squeezing the back of the chair with that voice sounding so close.

With an almost evil smile, gently licking his lips, Aemond turned around, lowering himself between her legs in front of the chair and without warning, pulling her by the thighs, leaving her wet and warm pussy very close to his face.

-Raise your hips a little for me, my dear. - He asked in a firm voice and she did it at the same moment, needing his care more than ever. - Good girl.

Without waiting another second, the king took her moist folds into his mouth, tasting her with desire, eliciting screams and gasps from her lips, which for Aemond were as sweet as that pussy.

-Oh Aemond… - She sighed his name between degrading moans of pleasure as he sucked her pearl and played with her using his tongue, while his long fingers hit that specific spot inside her that made her scream every time. - More, please, more.

Aemond laughed in pure malice against her, making her feel even more pleasure, her soft walls contracting against his fingers as her whole body began to spasm slightly, Y/n's moans became louder and more debauched as she tangled her hands in Aemond's silver hair, practically rubbing herself against his face as ecstasy took over her body, screaming the king's name in desperation as she reached her peak and collapsed against the chair, feeling boneless. The body giving slight spasms as Aemond teased her sensitive pearl with the tip of his tongue even after the intense orgasm.

-Who do you belong to? - Came the firm question in Aemond's laconic voice as he held her by the hair to face him, now standing in front of the chair.

-To you, my king. - She sighed, staring at him.

-Then get on your knees for me like the good girl I know you are! - He growled, still holding her by the hair, making Y/n moan with contentment as she got up from the chair with her legs still slightly shaking.

As she stood up, she caught a glimpse of Jacaerys again, momentarily even forgetting that he was there, and with a mischievous smile she knelt in front of the chair where Aemond was now sitting.

-You know what to do, Issa jorrāelagon. (My love). - He murmured with a sickly side smile to Jacaerys who was about to vomit, while delicately stroking Y/n's locks of hair.

-Yes, my king. - She sighed, nodding eagerly. Without needing to hear anything else, she guided her hands to the laces of Aemond's pants, pulling them avidly, overcome by the desire to please him too.

Her hungry eyes shone as she finally placed them on Aemond's already hard and leaking cock, caressing his hardness with a lewd smile on her lips. Y/n ran her soft hands all over his length, from the base to the tip, leaving a gentle caress with the tip of her thumb on the slit from where that pearly liquid slowly flowed.

With an even bigger smile when she heard the king grunt softly, she finally brought her lips to the tip of his cock, slowly sucking only that part until her cheeks sank, moaning at the same time as he felt the strong taste of his pre-cum on the tip of his tongue.

Breathing deeply through her nose, she lowered her lips as far as she could, sucking and licking him with praise. Taking her mouth off and taking a breath, she only lowered her lips to his balls and kissed and sucked them hard while she moved her hand back and forth on his member, eliciting grunts and gasps from his trembling lips. Without warning, she lowered her lips once more to his cock, making him growl and tangle his hands in her wild hair.

-I'll fuck your mouth. - He growled, giving the first thrust against her lips and Y/n did her best to nod, feeling her eyes water. Aemond grunted lightly with his hands tangled in Y/n's voluminous hair while she sucked his cock hard, kneeling between his legs more like a whore than a lady.

-That's enough. - He growled, feeling his body tremble slightly with agonizing pleasure on the edge of the abyss, making Y/n remove her mouth from his cock and look at him with those doe eyes shining with tears, as if she hadn't just sucked him like a whore, her lips still full of saliva and pre-cum.

-Come here, sweet girl. - He pulled her to sit on his lap with a sideways smile, leaving a hungry and wet kiss on her lips, feeling her moan and rub her hot, wet mouth against him hungrily. For a moment he almost forgot about Jacaerys' presence in the room, so lost in the softness of Y/n's lips and pussy.

Until he heard the sound of wood hitting the floor and looked at his nephew over Y/n's shoulder, letting out a laugh when he saw him writhing in his chair, his eyes burning with fury as he tried to free himself.

-I thought you were stronger than that, my dear nephew. - Aemond murmured mockingly as he firmly squeezed Y/n's ass with both hands, making her moan and throw her head back, rubbing herself even more against his cock.

-Aemond please…- She sighed without caring about Jacaerys. - Please…

-Please what, my sweet? - He asked, laughing, kissing her neck roughly as he looked cruelly at Jace, waiting for Y/n's answer.

-Fuck me. - She begged him without any shame, grinding on his thighs and rubbing her wet folds against his hard, leaking member. - Please fuck me, my king. I'm yours.

-Did you hear that, bastard? - Aemond growled, serrated his lips and then biting Y/n's neck, making her scream for him. - It's me she wants!

With these words, he brought his right hand to the friction zone between the two of them and with a smile of satisfaction, guided his own hard cock, leaking inside her, making her moan with satisfaction as she descended on him.

-Yes… yes… yes… - She sighed in joy, feeling him stretch every corner of her to the edge, scratching the leather of his jerkin, hungry for more contact, hungry for more of Aemond.

-My girl is so needy. - Aemond hissed, slamming his hips against hers firmly, making her scream. - Always eager for my touch, always begging for me.

-Harder, Aemond. - She moaned between sighs as she nodded her head, going crazy with each bite the king left on her neck. Going up and down on his cock, riding him harder and harder, feeling goosebumps covering her skin with the sensation of pleasure that only Aemond could give her. - Please… please…

Growling with pleasure, Aemond tangled his left hand in her hair and pulled her against him, taking her lips in a wild kiss full of greedy bites, while lifting her hips from the chair harder, making her tremble above him and grip him even tighter.

Pulling her lower lip into a bite, he trailed kisses down her neck to her breasts, sucking and caressing them with his tongue, drawing even more pleasure from Y/n, who threw her head back lost in pleasure, finding her husband's glazed eyes watching the scene, looking like he was about to vomit.

The pleasure in her core multiplied. She liked the feeling. She liked seeing the humiliation in Jacaerys' eyes as Aemond took her. Y/n liked the feeling of knowing that he was feeling even more humiliated than she felt every time she was forced to endure his touch.

Feeling Y/n's walls contracting around him, Aemond guided his hand to her sensitive pearl that gently brushed against his pelvis with synchronized movements and caressed her even harder, making her scream and tremble above him, rolling her eyes in pure pleasure.

-Who do you belong to? - He growled breathlessly into her ear, feeling on the verge of his own orgasm.

-You, my king! - She practically sobbed amidst her moans, burying her face contorted with pleasure in the gap between his neck and shoulder, still riding him with trembling legs. - You. Only you.

-Look closely, you bastard. - Aemond growled, rolling his eyes in pleasure as he fucked Y/n with abandon. - I want you to see how well she cums on my cock.

With a loud moan of Aemond's name, Y/n came all over his cock, shuddering and convulsing as she collapsed on him, squeezing him so hard that she practically ripped the orgasm out of the king, who grunted and bit her shoulder, feeling the pleasure tear him apart as his seed invaded her hot pussy.

The two of them stood still for a few moments, panting and immersed in pleasure. The only sound in the room was their uneven breathing. Jacaerys could very well be dead in all that silence. Little by little, Aemond felt his cock slowly come back to life as Y/n's pussy spasmed around him, driving him completely crazy.

She whimpered against Aemond's neck, feeling his now semi-erect cock still buried deep in her sensitive intimacy. Aemond cooed softly at her as he stroked her hair.

-Are you okay, my dear?

She nodded at him as she stared at him with a tear-stained face.

-Can you hold one more for me? - He asked, tucking a strand of Y/n's wild hair behind her ear.

-Yes. - She sighed, throwing her arms around his neck and panting when she felt Aemond harden beneath her again.

-Then be good, go to the bed and get on your hands and knees for me. - He murmured with his lips pressed against Y/n's ear, while firmly squeezing both of her ass cheeks.

Y/n stood up and gasped as her body disconnected from Aemond's and with wobbly legs she walked slowly to the bed, not sparing even a glance at her husband still tied to the chair. Aemond's seed ran down her thighs along with her own fluids and with a sigh she knelt on the bed making every effort to stay steady, with her legs aching after sex.

Aemond walked to the bed and opening the last drawer he took the bottle of oil and Y/n moaned with contentment already knowing what was coming. He positioned himself behind her and gently kissed each of her ass cheeks before spreading them, exposing her wrinkled hole. She sighed at him and leaned her body even further forward just as she knew Aemond liked, her gaze meeting Jace's at that moment with a smile of pure satisfaction as she saw tears running down his damn face.

Y/n then felt the first finger soaked in oil entering her ass and sighed as she buried her face between the sheets. It didn't take long for Aemond to insert the second and then the third while making slow movements with his hand. He brought his other hand to her swollen clitoris and gently stimulated it, making her sigh and moan with the double stimulation.

And when he removed his fingers she waited anxiously for what was to come, the feeling of pleasure taking over her body as Aemond invaded her ass with his cock slowly.

-Seven hells. - Aemond moaned as he sheathed himself completely inside her. - Always so tight back here.

He then slapped Y/n's ass making her moan and began to fuck her hard against the mattress while she moaned desperately. Aemond pressed her pearl again leaving her a mess of moans and gasps for him as she begged for more. She no longer had any strength in her arms and collapsed on the bed, only with her hips raised as Aemond held them and she tried to keep them in the right position with the little strength she had left in her body.

-Whose cunt is this Y/n? - Aemond growled as he pinched her pearl between his fingers making her scream and spasm on the sheets.

-Y-yours Aemond. - She whimpered at him with tears of pleasure running down her cheeks.

-And whose mouth is this? - He murmured leaning down and kissing her in a way that could be passionate and dirty at the same time.

-Only yours my king. - She moaned between kisses.

-And whose is this tight, delicious ass? - He asked, slapping her left cheek, fucking her even harder while stimulating her clitoris with his fingertips.

-Yours. - Y/n cried and moaned. - Only yours, Aemond. Only yours. Always only yours my king.

Jacaerys could no longer look, could no longer feel repulsion, all of this was too much for him. Y/n was his, it was not supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be the king. Y/n was supposed to be his wife. Tears ran uncontrollably down his face as he saw his wife being degraded in the worst and most repulsive way before his eyes.

-Cum for me one more time Issa jorrāelagon. (My love). - Aemond spoke with his body glued to hers as he sped up his movements, and shortly after Y/n came with a moan and collapsed on the bed while Aemond came deep in her ass with a guttural moan and bit her right shoulder.

-I love you. - She said with a tired smile as Aemond pulled out of her and kept his own intimacy in his pants.

-Avy jorrāelan tolī, issa jorrāelagon. (I love you too, my love). - He murmured softly only for Y/n's tired and sleepy ears, as he left a wet kiss between her shoulder blades.

Y/n had never said those words to Jacaerys, had never even come close, had never even told him that he was tolerable. And a tear of pure hatred and betrayal ran down his face. He saw her in bed falling asleep covered in sweat with Aemond's seed dripping down her holes while Aemond smiled victoriously at him.

-What did you do all this for? - He asked with a choked voice trying to keep it steady, feeling the bile about to make him vomit after seeing one of the greatest atrocities of life happen in front of him. - You already had her now.

Aemond walked slowly towards Jacaerys with confident steps and a smile that was a mix of victory and malice.

-No my hateful nephew. I always had her. She was always mine. And you always trying to steal what is not yours dared to put your filthy paws on her perfect body! - He hissed with his eyes burning with fury, leaning over the chair and staring at him deeply.

-On your wedding day she came to me crying and begged me to take her virginity so that she would not have it stolen by you. - He smiled at the memory in an almost melancholic way. - And I did as she asked and fucked her, while she was still wearing that wedding dress, before you had even seen her in it.

-When she entered the sept, it was with my seed dripping down her thighs, just like now. - Aemond laughed victoriously as he watched Jace shake his head in pure shock and sadness.

-She never wanted you, she came to me every chance she got and begged me to give her the pleasure she knew only I could give her. - He hissed angrily, his voice low and deadly. - She told me she felt disgusted every time she needed to feel your touch against her skin and that she would kill you in your sleep if she could.

If Aemond had told him this a few hours ago, Jace would have denied it, said he was lying, but now… there was no denying the facts. Not after the torture she had subjected him to. Not after seeing his wife being sodomized by his uncle while she cried and begged for more beneath him.

-And now… - Aemond said, approaching with a sick smile as he pulled the dagger from his belt. - I will fulfill the promise I made her years ago.

And with his eyes still glazed over from the nightmare he had been forced to watch, Jacaerys waited silently for the stranger, who was certainly coming to meet him in the form of Aemond Targaryen.

The promise

-When my brother is king and I am your hand, I will take you for myself in front of that filthy bastard, and when I finish giving you pleasure, I will cut his throat and take you as my wife. - Aemond whispered softly against her jugular, very close to her ear, making her skin crawl.

And with that promise, Lady Y/n entered the sept to marry Prince Jacaerys with a smile on her face.

The future

Y/n felt free, she felt light, she felt like the most beautiful creature in all the kingdoms. The maids were preparing her wedding dress, beautiful as only something royal could be.

The council warned Aemond about the fact that marrying the wife of Prince Jacaerys, who had consistent rumors that the king himself had slit his throat, would not help improve his already low reputation. But he did not care. And ignoring all opinions, he set the wedding date as soon as possible, because he was sure that his seed had already taken root now with the absence of moon tea.

And today, finally, the most important day of all had arrived. She would finally be Aemond's, Aemond's and his alone, no more unwanted touches, no more pain, no more tears. She would be his alone. And that was why she smiled as they arranged her clothes. Shortly after they had finished dressing, combing her hair and putting her shoes on, all the maids left her alone in the room. It wasn't long before she heard a light knock on the door. Frowning, she went over and opened it, finding a young page standing there with a yellowed piece of paper between his fingers.

-The king ordered this to be delivered to you my lady. - He said, giving her the paper, bowing and then walking away.

Y/n smiled even wider if possible, and when she opened the paper, she thought her heart would explode with pure happiness.

"I'm thinking of you, see you in the sept.

A.T."

She pressed the letter to her chest with a sigh of joy, and then safely put it away in her bedside drawer.

Lady Y/n, soon to be queen, entered the sept with a smile from ear to ear, but this time it was for all the right reasons.

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fantasiesandfolklore · 9 months ago

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V: Queen of Ashes — Vilified Phoenix Queen Verse Info [Part I of II]

TWs & Themes: The fallen heroine; war/war typical violence; magical/fantasy violence; religion; patricide; colonization; mass murder; religious psychosis; gore; child death; fratricide; matricide; the rise of the daughter; the fall of an empire

Note: This is NOT the main way Relta’s Phoenix Queen verse goes/ends. It is if Relta’s power turned her cold and cruel, inspired by the “what type of villain are you” quiz

Relta deposes her father five years before he was to step down, ruling Lunaruz alone and disbanding the council and all aspects of Lunaruz that resemble what would be considered democratic. She fills the roles with those she knows are loyal to her, and support her not getting married to rule.

Relta ends the alliance with her younger half-sister, Aislin’s, fiancé’s country and removed Aislin’s future children from her list of heirs. She also banished Aislin from Lunaruz

Relta ends up killing her father to deter his loyalists about six years into her reign, banishing her biological mother as well.

Relta sets up a set of spies in her court and throughout the kingdom, and sends assassins to knock off any who oppose her matriarchy

Relta does marry one of her lovers in her 32nd year, the 7th of her reign, but keeps them powerless rather than making them a co-monarch.

Relta begins a war on the non-polytheistic religions in Lunaruz, banishing those who practice such religions but not destroying their holy places or relics.

She fully steps into her role as Aphrodite Areia incarnated, wagging war against a former suitor of hers for five years and slaughtering all of his army and navy.

Lunaruz becomes the largest naval and military as a whole in the known world, and expeditions to unknown lands are started to be explored.

The indigenous peoples are left alone for the most part due to Relta not wanting more enemies, yet still diseases wipe out many of the indigenous peoples.

As monarch, Relta has multiple heirs with her consort, but ends the law that the monarch must step down upon their eldest heir’s 30th birthday (usually around the monarch’s 65th birthday). She makes sure to shape her heirs to be cold and calculating like her to continue her progress one she does decide to step down into retirement.

Lunaruz sets out to conquer the kingdoms who were enemies to the kingdom under her father’s rule, being rather successful in doing so

Enemy monarchs are killed and displayed until decay in front of the front line of soldiers to show the new opponent what to expect upon their “fated” loss.

Relta falls into religious psychosis, believing she is meant to bring the Underworld and Heaven to Lunaruz, focusing on “bettering” the kingdom by assuring mass submission to her, as she sees herself as a deity in a semi-mortal shell

Relta sends expeditions out to find the other half of the Lunaruzian Crystal, which is what is believed to give the monarchs their longevity. She wishes for immortality and to separate Lunaruz from the rest of the world as it is “too good” for her version of Earth.

She has her consort banished for treason after they sire enough heirs, taking various lovers afterward in order to fuel her powers more. She secretly sends an assassin after the consort so no one would try an uprising with her consort as the figurehead of it.

Lunaruz ends up collapsing economically in the villages, yet flourishes for the regal as the expeditions and conquering of other lands grants them massive wealth and advantages

Relta goes on hunting trips, however her targets are kidnapped monarchs’ heirs. She kills them after a year’s worth of hunting as to show her growing number of enemies that they too will fall.

Relta’s youngest child, sired with Lord Keife who loves the woman she was, is killed by anti-matriarchy rebels. This causes a mass killing of the rebels in retaliation by Relta herself, slaughtering each with her own blade. She mourns her youngest child deeply, and goes a bit madder upon the child’s death

Relta’s illegitimate half-sister’s secret child is also hunted down by Relta’s loyalists and killed so she cannot be used as a figurehead to dispose Relta

Relta has her rebellious middle child sent off to war to learn combat and serve her as her champion once old enough. He survives, yet defects from Lunaruz due to seeing his mother’s madness.

Upon obtaining the crystal, Relta’s spiritual psychosis strengthens its grip on her and she leads almost all her own battles by being on the front line

Relta killed her final suitor prior to her consort, ripping their foundation out from under them and causing the kingdom to collapse.

Indentured servitude is started, along with serfdom, in order to divide the classes in Lunaruz. Relta punishes defectors that are caught by making them serve lords and ladies that she chose to look over certain areas for her.

After being essentially forced to sign it, Relta signs a paper akin to the Magna Carta. However, she inflicts severe laws that are loopholes in order to punish the people who brought the paper to her and the lower classes

Trade is expanded greatly, with Lunaruz being the main supplier of goods from the newly “found” lands. However slavery remains illegal, and Relta provides more strict laws against slavery as one of her few good actions.

When Aislin, with her husband’s kingdom’s aid, attacks Lunaruz upon seeing that her sister went mad. Their forces are slaughtered, and Relta slays Aislin herself — consequently cracking the Lunaruzian Crystal.

Relta’s eldest child, not sired by her consort but rather a lover, is raised in court until her first legitimate child poisons them to insure their claim to the throne. The elder was born to Relta at 24, before her madness, and killed at age 15 by the half-sibling who was approximately 12-14 at the time

Lunaruz’s former allies join forces to fight Relta and her military, being victorious but at great cost. Lunaruz and Relta survive the Twelve-Years-War, but not without losing much of their power and hold over the other kingdoms.

Relta’s murdered consort’s kingdom sets a bounty for Relta’s head, however going after her is a death wish.

Relta’s supposedly deceased youngest half-sister seeks Relta out, hoping to find the good in her again, yet instead finds herself being used as a figurehead in the growing civil unrest against Relta’s rule. Relta has her beheaded for treason, despite the younger woman having no choice over being chosen by the anti-Relta forces

Relta’s eldest legitimate child kills all her legitimate siblings, as to assure her ascent to the throne. She secretly is aiding the anti-Relta forces in Lunaruz, and is arguably more powerful than even her mother when it comes to magic and divine connections.

Historical Inspirations: Catherine de Medici (“The Serpent Queen”), Marguerite de Valois, Empress Matilda, King Henry VIII, Elizabeth I, Mary I, The War of the Roses, the English Civil War, Ancient Athens, French religious wars in the 1500s/1600s, Spanish/Portuguese/English colonization era; Era of Exploration, Crusades, Richard the Lionhearted vs Prince John, Lady Jane Grey Queen of Nine Days, Eleanor of Aquitaine, St Bartholomew’s Day Massacre in 1572,

[Continued here]

#Muse: relta #v: phoenix queen #v: the phoenix queen #v: queen of ashes #Mobile post #Verse info #Long post Cw

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arcielee · 1 year ago

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Ābrazȳrys

Summary: Aemond goes to see if the king is truly dead and finds his wife instead. Paring: dark!Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader Word Count: 1900+ Warnings: MDNI, dark[ish]!Aemond, Reader AFAB, noncon elements, ghostly voyeurism? rough sex, p in v unprotected, creampie, breeding kink when you squint. Author’s Note: So, this is not for the poll I just had, but something that came from rambling with my muses [thank you lovelies]. This is dedicated to @namelesslosers whose recent piece already had my mind thrumming with dark!Aemond ever since I read your story. Thank you, Mari, this is mostly your fault. 😆 Not beta read, my mistakes are my own and I am woefully sorry for them all. Also, Sȳz ābrazȳrys is Valyrian for good wife.

An accord was struck between the Warden of the North and King Viserys; you were then packed to be sent away to the capital, to wed his second son, Prince Aemond. Your purpose, you learned, was to placate the growing rift within the house of the dragon, but you soon realized it was not something that could be easily mended.

Aemond was complexity carved from marble, both beautiful and statuesque as the blood of Old Valyria was rumored to be. You saw his ire was not unfounded when the crowned princess had returned to flaunt her sins at her side, their tousled dark hair as bold as the crimson curve that cut through the left side of your husband’s face.

You felt the shift, saw the hatred now etched onto his sharp features at the sight of them. “Bastards,” he had murmured loud enough for you to hear. His tone was dark, his hold on your hand stopping the blood from reaching your fingertips.

The tension brought with their arrival was palpable, weaving through the Red Keep and pouring into the Small Hall where dinner was held, as per the king’s request. The pleasantries seemed forced and it ended with a scathing toast, an outburst, and when you tried to follow after Aemond, he had been quick to dismiss you.

You often struggled to find your place in King’s Landing. Aemond was courteous, but cold; both diligent and disinterested in the same breath. He treated you as his duty and it left your heart aching for more. It could not be sated with his family: Aegon was too lost in his cups, as was Helaena but with her dreams, and you had never met the youngest prince, as he was tucked away at Oldtown.

This left you to shadow the queen, which was how you now found yourself quietly at her side, your gaze accompanying her own–her brown eyes were wide and wet and fearful all at the same time. Her handmaiden had brought you to her quarters to hear it firsthand: the king was dead. Now you watched as the Silent Sister finished the wrappings on the body.

There was an attempt to mask the smell of death with the tapers lit, with the cloves and fresh herbs crushed for a smoldering incense that curled upwards into the air, but the lifelessness remained, prominent still. You could only assume it was something so intricately knitted with the late king, a man who had lingered so long on the precipice that life had long rotted away before he had taken his final breath.

Alicent waited until they left before she took the crown and placed it on top of the body. You watched her shudder with a choked grief, her hands pressing onto the altar to hold herself upright until she could regain her queenly composure. She then excused herself without a word, leaving you alone with the dead.

The body in front of you was not your family, but only your king. Your own unshed tears were from the fear you felt, from the loss that would come with the inevitable civil war; you saw flashes of red from the blood to be spilled, black from the ash that would rain over the kingdoms.

“He is even smaller in death.”

You knew the voice, so low but it still wrenched the air from your lungs. You looked up to see your husband poised in the doorway. “It is something that comes for us all, it is inescapable,” Aemond finished, his eye now trained to you.

It seemed a murmured thought and you were uncertain if he would continue it, uncertain if the words spoken were even meant for your ears to begin with. You swallowed thickly, your throat dry from the smoke. “My husband,” your voice cracked with compassion, “I am so sorry–”

“I am not.”

It cuts through you, halting your tongue. You watched him carefully, warily, as his lips curled upwards. “For too long I have watched him slowly wither beneath the crown handed to him by a council,” and he looked back to the altar, a bitterness brewing. “He hid behind some want for a faux peace, but only because he lacked the conviction and the spine to speak the truth.”

His tone clipped, his smile now cruel and cutting into his cheeks as he stepped towards you with his slow, distinct gate. You remained rooted, unwilling to wilt under the weight of the harsh truth that could now be spoken out loud and without repercussions.

You tried again: “Are you certain of this? Of her misdeeds–?”

This time your voice caught once he was close enough for his fingers to trail along the side of your face, coming to cup your cheek and hold your gaze. His palm was callused from his sword, but gentle to touch, igniting a warmth that pooled towards your core. Your eyes flickered over his smile that remained, your breath knotting in your throat as you realized how tall he now stood, as if a weight had been removed from him.

“Ābrazȳrys,” he murmured, his hold now moving to curl behind at the base of your neck and pull you closer to him. Your hands touched his chest, falling into him and his heat, his sandalwood and smoke, the amber scent that belonged so intimately to Aemond.

You burned from his direct attention, something you had pitifully sought after since you arrived, and it was now being handed alongside the corpse of the king.

And it felt so wrong.

His finger curled under your chin, tilting your head back to look at him. “Perhaps if I put a babe in your belly, you can see how strong the blood of dragon truly is.”

And yet–

“Aemond,” you gasped as his other hand moved to clasp around your elbow, pulling you closer until his mouth captured your own.

The room swam in smoke; you felt drunk from the warmth of his lips and with the way his hands roamed your backside, pulling you flushed against his chest. You could feel the swell of his cock pressing against the seams, a heat that permeated through and spread to ignite your nerve endings.

You sighed sweetly with how you fit against his chest and Aemond deepened the kiss with a desperation that you matched against your own volition. Your arms lifted to wrap around his neck, pulling yourself closer still, and Aemond let out a low groan, a vibration that trilled and tightened in your core.

“Aemond, we should leave…”

His passion would not be abated and instead his mouth claimed yours again. Aemond wrapped his arms around your waist to lift you and pull you away from the dead with staggering steps back towards the enclave of bay windows the sun streaked through. His large hands tore through your layers to touch the soft divot between your thighs, until the pads of his fingers pressed to the wet patch that was growing; he hummed.

You broke away and his mouth then latched to the curve of your neck, biting you, marking you, his passion reborn from the tips of his teeth. You cried out from the mixture of pleasure and pain, your body betraying you with how it responded, with how it craved for more.

You tried again: “Aemond, we mustn’t–”

His hand caught your jaw with a hold that dimpled into your cheeks. “You must know by now that the walls are thick, as my ancestors designed them to be,” his eye looked over your kiss-swollen lips and the blood that was staining your features. “Also, the dead also cannot hear us.”

Aemond then surged against you; you could not fight back, you would not fight back. Instead, your hands balled into his tunic to balance yourself, to return the kiss until all the air left your lungs. You felt his smile against your mouth, his arms returning to snake around your waist and guide until you fell down to the rug that covered the floor; a delicious contrast of the warmth he emitted to the cold of the cobblestone beneath you.

He rucked your skirts up around your waist, his hand moving to pull away the small clothes intimately wrapped around before he slotted himself between your thighs. You felt his length grind against your bare cunt and you gasped, only for the sound to be swallowed with another heated kiss that seared the blood now coursing through your veins.

Aemond paused to look down at you. His hair spilled silver in the sunlight and he watched your corset push against your cleavage, the desperate rise and fall to catch your breath. His one arm propped himself up while the other tugged away at the strings laced at his crotch; your fingers slipped into his loosened waistband, pulling it down until his cock was freed. His fingers then wrapped around his base, flushed crimson with his passion, and you nearly cried as he rubbed his swollen head along your folds, silken with your arousal.

His arms caged you and he pushed into you, filling you with his slow thrusts to fit, until he was fully sheathed within your cunt. Your lips parted wordlessly as your pleasure began to kindle with the slow roll of his hips, something that spread towards the ends and returned to build within your core.

You mewled as his paced quickened, the wet sounds of bare skin suctioning as he fucked you into the rug, bruising your backside against the stone with each snap of his hips; you lifted to cant your own, welcoming the bruising pace. You were breathless, your walls fluttering with the first waves of pleasure coiling tightly at the base of your spine.

“Touch yourself,” he rasped, his breath hot against the curve of your neck.

You hand moved between with a fumbling touch to your pearl, swollen and wet and wanting. The pressure was enough to elicit another cry from you, the tears pearling earlier now spilling. Aemond saw this with the black that possessed his eye and his head dipped to lick your tears; his murmured, “Sȳz ābrazȳrys,” scorching against your skin.

It burst forth with flashes of white, a euphoria brimming on too much as his pace continued, until he was spilling and pulsing within your velvet walls. His weight then rested against you, his head turning to place a sweet kiss to your neck before he pulled away to stand, reaching to bring you back onto unsteady feet.

You swayed a moment and he grabbed you, waiting until you met with his stare. Your eyes were wet as they rolled from him and took in your surroundings; you let out a shaky exhale when you saw the body that had been prepared.

Aemond let go to tuck himself away and then stepped to block your view. He leaned forward to press a kiss to your hairline; your lashes were clumped together from your tears shed, wet against your cheeks when you closed your eyes, savoring the softness of his lips.

“We will win,” his confidence now laced his low tone. He repeated: “Do not worry, we will win.”

And then he left you alone with the dead, with nothing but the remnant pulsing sensation of the pleasure he took, his pearly spend now spilling down between the insides of your legs.

Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @sylasthegrim @fan-goddess @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @girlwith-thepearlearring @theobjectofyourire @troublesomesnitch @multyfangirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowprincesa1 @officerbrowneyes

arcie's masterlist

#hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #female!reader #dark!aemond targaryen #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female!reader

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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 5 months ago

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WARMTH

A KINKTOBER SPECIAL - REGENCY AU WITH TOMMY SHELBY

Pairing.| Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Summary.| The Queen is not spared by the King’s cruel nature. However she does get to feel his warmth.

Warnings.| Noncon, dubcon, rough sex, p in v, groping, hitting, manipulating, exhibition, somnophilia at the end

Word count.| 2k

King Thomas Shelby.

To the Kingdom, your husband was their savior. He brought his people out of starvation. Graced the skies of Birmingham with produce, conquest and wealth. The Kingdom that was once doomed to be a dark city of brimstone and ash, has been reborn into a vigorous land.

But to you, he was frightening. He was the weather, his conditions were constantly changing, you could never precisely predict what would occur with him. One moment, he was a brute. Completely ruthless to everyone around him, his humanity drained empty. Those loyal to him - including yourself, his Queen- were not spared by his wrath. But then, the next, he was kind, thoughtful, gentle, and genuine. His persona constantly shifted. You quickly learnt that you would have to wear multiple hats with him, in order to attempt to stay on his good side.

You had been married to the King for only a month. His army had effortlessly conquered your small kingdom. It was your father’s fault, as Thomas claimed. Your father had refused to create an unfair alliance with the Kingdom of Birmingham. So King Thomas declared war.

When your father kneeled before King Thomas, Thomas demanded all of his daughters to come forward. For his personal award of conquest, he wanted to take your sisters and yourself away. However, when his devilish blue eyes laid on you, he had a change of heart.

The ceremony commenced the day your carriage arrived at the Kingdom of Birmingham. The three day journey was not enough time for preparation of your new life. Your family were not invited, eternally banished from Birmingham, forcefully abandoning you from your loved ones.

On your wedding night, you learnt that the King was a slithering snake. He fed lies down your throat to satisfy his own needs and insecurities. He deflowered you without care, but then afterwards he worshiped your body. He kissed every inch on your skin as if you were dipped in gold.

On this cold, late evening, you sat on the edge of your bed. Still sniffing the tears away caused by the events from earlier on. You rubbed your hands anxiously as you felt like your feet were cemented down. The bath did not clean your dirty skin, the steam failed to clear your clouded mind.

“My love” Thomas whispered, leaning against the doorframe as he looked down upon you.

Sharply, you raised your curled chest and rolled your shoulders back. As you tried to sniffle your nostrils clear, you petted your damp cheeks with your sleeve. The King often knew how you sneak up on you at the worst possible times. He was a master at lingering in the shadows. For you believed he was born in the darkness hole of this world.

“I wish for you to sleep in my chambers tonight, the bed feels awfully cold this evening” Thomas ordered blankly with a nod, his arms crossed over his broad chest, the top few buttons undone.

It was common for Thomas to command you to warm his bed, his whores didn’t have the same warmth or comfort which you provided. But usually he had a guard or maid summon you, this was a first.

“Yes my King” you nodded your head quickly and hurried over to him, anxious that if you were any slower he’d shout at you.

The short walk down the hall was accompanied with silence. You trailed behind him like a squire as he strided to his chambers. When you entered his chambers and the heavy wooden door slammed shut, you undressed yourself completely. Awkwardly, you stood by the door with your head down, waiting for his wishes.

Thomas looked back to you as he approached his goblet, full of rich red wine. Even though he still reeked of sex, Thomas’ hungry eyes made his mouth water, mind eager of eating you all up. With each day passing, his whore’s feared that he’d soon forget about them. For the King never complimented them anymore, or seemed rather interested in their company.

“Go on, warm my bed” Tommy ordered, gesturing his hand towards the bed before he took a large swig of wine.

Quickly, your body disappeared under the heavy layers, your body propped on your side as you watched him. Thomas took his time finishing the goblet, his eyes analyzing your face. Admiring the purple bruise on your left eye that seemed to grow darker by the minute.

The goblet clanked down and Thomas slowly undressed himself, his blue eyes not leaving you once. After he blew out the last source of light except the fireplace, he crawled underneath the sheets like a predator teasing its prey. As he slithered up closely to you, the smell of wine lingered up your nostrils. His hand touched your bruised eye and you whimpered, flinching at the contact. Thomas kissed you gently, but sighed when you didn’t reciprocate the kiss.

“You’re upset with me” Thomas stated quietly, but his tone lacked proper care.

“No my King” you lied awfully.

“Do not lie to your King” Thomas hissed lightly, pressing his front to yours as his hand felt your curves underneath the sheets. You took a heavy breath in.

“My emotions mean nothing, my only concern is your health” you answered timidly, looking down as you felt his hands play with the skin of your stomach.

“They do not mean nothing to me…” Thomas sighed, rubbing the side of your heads together. “You’re hurt by what I did to you today, correct?” Thomas inquired through a whisper.

You swallowed down your fear. “Yes, my King” you admitted, whimpering slightly.

“You shall call me Thomas tonight” Thomas demanded softly.

“Yes, Thomas” you corrected yourself.

“My little mouse…” Thomas chaffed, squeezing the skin on your hips.

Earlier today, Thomas’ brother, Arthur made a drunken acclaim to the King. One that demanded a public performance on the King’s behalf. A bet that Thomas would have no shame in reframing from. Arthur made an allegation that Thomas was unable to make you orgasm, that’s why you were still so cowering and shy. He was yet to unleash the creature inside of you.

With a snap of his fingers, you were commanded to bend over the wooden table. The very table that all of Thomas’ advisors sat upon. For an everlasting ten minutes, you kept your eyes squeezed shut as Thomas took you from behind. Every peep you took, an image of filthy drooling mouths flashed.

As you cried out in a painful ecstasy, all of the men cheered the King’s name. The shame weighed heavy on your shoulders as you slowly pushed your chest up. Then, when Thomas attempted to pull you in for a kiss, you made the mistake of shoving him away, your mind fueled with disgust, anger and humiliation. The bruised eye you have now was the reactive punishment of embarrassing the King.

Swiftly, he shoved you back over the table and flipped your dress up, you squirmed underneath him, but he twisted your arms around you back as he took you for a second time. That time however, he demanded that you begged mercy to finish. When you were crying, almost screaming for release, he finally allowed it. Afterwards, he yanked you up from the table and shoved you towards the door, commanding a guard to escort you back to your chambers.

“I am sorry, my love. It was not my wish to humiliate or shame you” Thomas apologized quietly, his fingers brushed over your bruised eye. “I did what I had to do. I could not back down from a false claim, I am the King!” Thomas’ voice raised, you flinched in response. He sighed at your reaction. “You must be grateful, my love! Men with lower titles would treat their wives far more cruelly for such an act of disobedience, for a lesser act even! I only had to show my strength in front of my advisors. But you my Queen, I try to rekindle our companionship on behalf of both of our mistakes” Thomas exhaled, rubbing his nose against yours.

“Thank you Thomas” you whispered.

“You know that I did not intend to hurt your timid emotions, yes?” Thomas murmured, one hand caressing your rear whilst the other squeezed your breasts.

“Of course Thomas” you sighed, burying your face into the crook of his neck. His stiff body relaxed at your action.

“It was harmless, no man would dare to touch you! I merely wanted to make them envious of the perfect Queen who is mine…” Thomas gloated, his erection poking against thigh.

But his words were not powered by care of you, but rather possession. His obsession with you was very similar to love at first sight, but with every passing day, his fixation grew like the roots of a thorn bush. It was true, no man would ever dare to touch what he wanted. The only reason he kept your dress on earlier was from jealousy. The thought of another man seeing your naked state attacked his ego. Your body was for his eyes only.

“You’re weak, just like your father” Thomas joked with a light chuckle. “But also modest, I can only predict to be from your mother” he continued on, hands worshiping your breasts, his slender fingers pinching your nipple.

His mouth lowered to your chest, his sinister tongue slithered over your hardened nipple. You moaned out lightly, goosebumps spiking over your skin. You whined when his fingers brushed over your swollen cunt.

“Did I hurt you down there?” Thomas asked, face raised, eyebrow cocked. You whimpered as you quickly nodded your head. “I apologize for that, my love… I must care for you better. Any day shall we be blessed with the signs of you bearing my heir” Thomas acknowledged, caressing your stomach again, his head resting on your tits.

How were you supposed to stay angered by him? After all, he was the King and you were blessed with being his wife, his Queen. King Thomas chose you, you must remind yourself of that in these moments. He could have easily casted a more foul destiny on you. This was the best possible outcome for yourself.

His lips brushed over yours. Shyly, you purse your lips together against his. Thomas hummed, suckling at your lower lip. Your arms extended out and wrapped around his firm back.

It was so difficult with him. One minute you were terrified to be within arm's distance of him, the next you craved to feel his graceful touch. The King could be such a gentle lover at times. You’d be a fool to avoid those opportunities for comfort and warmth.

“Who do you belong to?” Thomas whispered into your ear.

“You Thomas” you breathed.

“Who am I?” Thomas asked, his fingers rolled over your clit.

“My King” you moaned.

“Go on” he urged, pressing harder against your sensitive bean.

“My husband” you smiled. Thomas hummed, rubbing the sides of your faces again. “My love” you continued, your emotions and sensations pushing your mind into a blissful dazed cloud.

“Yes, I am he, your thoughtful master” Thomas stated proudly, lightly humping his erection against you. You murmured out, laying heavy on the bed. “You must be exhausted, yes?” Thomas assumed.

“Yes Thomas” you answered.

“Let’s lay then…” Thomas suggested.

Easily, he flipped your body around and pressed himself against you, his head rested in the crook of your neck. Thomas caressed your stomach, his lips pecking at the skin on your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut, his erection pressing against your ass.

“Let me keep us warm, eh?” Thomas smirked as he lined up his tip to your entrance. Your sweet painful moans were music to his ears, but gradually you adjusted to his size.

“Yes Thomas” you murmured out. Gently, he buried his erection into your soft walls, sighing out in relief as he kissed your cheek.

“Sleep my love, for tomorrow I am all yours…” Thomas promised through a whisper.

You hummed in response and quickly dozed off. Thomas smirked, gently pumping himself into you as he didn’t want to awaken his Queen.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #smut #dark smut #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #king tommy shelby #regency au #thomas shelby #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders au #cillian murphy kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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houseofhyde · 9 months ago

Text

⏤ another man, series masterlist.

pairing. aemond targaryen x fem!reader

series synopsis. a wolf and a dragon. a queen and a prince. lady stark and aemond targaryen. a marriage should keep them apart. lust draws them together. when one agrees to tutor the other in the many ways of pleasure, a countdown towards their mutual downfall begins. ( each chapter features individual synopses. )

series warnings. canon divergence (the greens win the war), brother-in-law!aemond, stark!reader (though there is no mention of her skin tone, hair colour, etc...) no use of y/n, slow burn, mutual pining, forbidden love, infidelity, sexually inexperienced reader, emotionally stunted aemond, themes of infertility/pregnancy, aegon is a shit husband, angst, fluff, & lots of smut. ( each chapter features individual warnings. )

series wordcount. 65.6k (so far )

a word from hyde. this series features my own reimagining of events pre, during, and post the dance of the dragons, along with my own interpretations of the characters. if you yourself do not like the featured canon divergence or find my portrayal of aemond (or any other canon character) to be ooc, please kindly skip over this series. this series does not have a taglist.

read on ao3. listen to the playlist.

i. another man’s feast. ( 3.5k )

chapter synopsis. aemond has only ever wanted to take care of you. too bad you’re married to his neglectful brother.

ii. another man’s comfort. ( 16.1k )

chapter synopsis. a wedding calls you north, your duty calls you to your husband, your heart calls you to aemond.

iii. another man’s pleasure. ( 13.6k )

chapter synopsis. a pregnancy, a nameday and a drunken evening make for a dangerous concoction between the one-eyed dragon and the royal wolf.

iv. another man’s pain. ( 19.4k )

chapter synopsis. a visit to dorne goes awry as an unexpected visitor arrives, tensions between in-laws come to ahead at last.

v. another man's legacy. ( 13k )

chapter synopsis. prince aemond calls all with fire in their blood forth to dragonstone with promise of a grand announcement, unawares of the king's own announcement.

vi. another man’s jealousy. ( coming october )

chapter synopsis. a vicious rumour spreads through the court, forcing the prince to prove just how green he can be.

vii. another man's promise. ( coming november )

chapter synopsis. in the warmth of summer, hope blooms. but how long until it wilts?

viii. another man’s wrath. ( coming december )

chapter synopsis. a bloodied gown, a funeral pyre, a pile of ashes. in his wrath, her mercy prevails.

ix. another man’s view. ( coming january )

chapter synopsis. aegon confronts the sin of his kin.

x. another man’s love. ( coming february)

chapter synopsis. lady stark learns that, sometimes, to love is to lose.

xi. another man’s exile. ( coming march )

chapter synopsis. the time has come where even a dragon must flee.

xii. another man’s wife. ( coming april )

chapter synopsis. the song of wolf and dragon comes to an end.

#aemond targaryen series #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon smut #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon fanfiction

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k4marina · 5 months ago

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— v. The Spoils of War || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: with highgarden now secure daenerys shifts her attention back to the caves of dragonstone and you finally venture down since your arrival.

warnings: war, executions, death, game of thrones typical themes

a/n: all dialouge in italics is Valyrian

important note at the end, please read.

series masterlist || next part

5.4k wrd count

game of thrones x fem!modern!reader

[gif found on pinterest]

I could hear the screaming from up above. The air smelt like burning flesh and amber as Daenerys had gone around lighting anything and anyone ablaze. My eyes roamed the ground immediately spotting Drogon and Daenerys on the ground. A scorpion's spear was lodged into Drogon’s shoulder and not too far off the side was Jamie wielding a spear, readying himself to attack Daenerys. Thankfully, Drogon noticed and threw fire his way only for Jamie to be saved by someone and thrown into the river.

“Protect them.”

Viserion screeches and fire erupts from his mouth as he lights a ring of fire around Daenerys and Drogon so she could safely remove the spear. I turned Viserion back and aimed him towards the remaining enemy.

“Dracarys.”

Viserion ignites the ground beneath us in flames, destroying any remaining scorpions and Lannister men that were foolish enough to still fight. Through all the screaming and burning I could hear the galloping of horses and war cries. I look back to see a swarm of Dothraki coming from the West. They circle the remaining enemy soldiers, intimidating them.

“Over there,” I say to Viserion. “We’re safe to land over there.”

Carefully, Viserion descents to the open clearing I’d pointed out. Once on the ground again, I jumped off of Viserion and walked over to Daenerys. The fire around her and Drogon had fizzled down and she’d managed to get the spear out of his shoulder. I eyed the wound and then her worried expression.

“He’ll recover.” I glanced back to the Dothraki taking the prisoners. “They got here faster than expected.”

“I had Qhono send his fastest riders.” Daenerys replies. Her eye’s trailed towards the river. “He got away.” She says, referring to Jamie.

“Good.” I turn to look at the river too. “We’ll need him in the future.”

–––

Tyrion walks over the ash covered ground. There are burned bodies and empty cargo strewn about. The Dothraki loot the bodies of any remaining Lannister gold and weapons. He steps up onto the stone boulders where Daenerys stood. Tyrion and I stood on either side of her while Drogon and Viserion were behind her, eyeing the captured soldiers, ready to pounce with one word.

“I know what Cersei has told you,” Daenerys starts off calmly. “That I’ve come to destroy your cities, burn down your homes, murder you and orphan your children. That’s Cersei Lannister, not me. I’m not here to murder. ANd all I want to destroy is the wheel that is rolled over rich and Poor to the benefit of no one but the Cersei Lannisters of the world. I offer you a choice. Bend the knee and join me. Together we will leave the world a better place than we found it, or refuse and die.”

Tension hangs in the air as her words settle into the prisoner's mind. A few Lannisteer men kneel to the ground, while most remain standing. Dragon roars, moving closer to the men and almost all the Lannister men quickly kneel, while a few still remain standing including Randyll and Dickon Tarley, Samwell Tarley’s father and brother.

“Step forward, My Lord.” Daenerys commands. Randyll steps up in front of the kneeling Lannisters, his son not too far off.

“You will not kneel?”

“I already have a queen.” He replies, gruffly.

“My sister, she wasn't your queen until recently though, was she, until she murdered your rightful queen and destroyed House Tyrell for all time. So it appears your allegiances are somewhat flexible.” Tyrion says.

Randyll turns to Tyrion, “there are no easy choices in war. Say what you will about your sister, she was born in Westeros, has lived here all her life. You on the other hand, you murdered your own father and chose to support a foreign invader. One with no ties to this land, an army of savages at her back.”

“If I remember correctly, the Targaryen’s have lived in Westeros for hundreds of years and before Aegon's Conquest they resided on Dragonstone in Blackwater Bay for nearly 500 years.” I turn to him with a pointed look. “Her Grace was born on Dragonstone and forced to flee her home and live in exile in a foreign land thanks to the Usurper. All she’s doing now is coming home and reclaiming what was her families from those who stole it from them.”

Tyrion turns to Daenerys. “Perhaps he can take the black, Your Grace. Whatever else he is, he is a true soldier. He would be invaluable at the wall.”

“You cannot send me to the Wall. You are not my queen.” Randyll grits.

Daenerys doesn’t reply, merely turning to the Dothraki. Two men step forward, grabbing Lord Tarley and pulling him to the side. I watched as Dickon stepped forward.

“You will have to kill me too.”

Randyll pulls away from the Dothraki, turning to face his son. “Step back and shut your mouth.”

“Who are you?” Daenerys asks Dickon.

“A stupid boy.” Randyll replies for his son.

“I’m Dickon Tarley, son of Randyll Tarley.” Dickon answers proudly.

“You are the future of your house,” Tyrion tries to reason. “This war has already wiped one great house from the world. Don’t let it happen again. Bend the knee.”

Randyll nods to his son, wordlessly telling him to save his life. “I will not.” He double downs.

“You’re loyal to your father and family, it’s commendable.” I step forward. “It’s a shame your father doesn’t share the same trait.”

“My father is the most loyal man I know.” Dickon quickly defends.

“Is he?” I say, accusingly. “He fought valiantly for the Targaryens during Robert's Rebellion, and now that the last Targaryen is here, he turns his back on her forgetting that 20 years ago he stood by her brother.” I shake my head. “But that shouldn’t be a surprise. After all, if he could turn his back on his eldest son, he can turn on anyone.”

Dickon looks taken aback. “Eldest son? What do you know about my brother?”

“Nothing.” Randyll sharply replies. “That woman knows nothing.”

“Do I?” I pressed further. “He couldn’t stand your brother.” I stepped down the boulder. “He hated the fact that he chose to read books instead of picking up a sword. So much so that he told his own child that if he didn’t take the black willingly, he’d kill him and make it look like a hunting accident. Instead of letting your brother be and naming you heir, he threw him to the Wall.” I stepped closer to Dickon. “Tell me, is this the man you want to die for? The one who’d murder his own child for reading books? Is this where your loyalty lies?”

The apple of Dickon’s throat bobs as he nervously swallows, shaking his head. “No, my father would never.”

“No? Ask him then.”

Slowly, he turned to his father who looked like he was ready to burst with anger. “Father. Tell me that she’s lying… please.”

Randyll clenches his jaw, casting his eyes downwards, answering Dickon’s question. He looked like he was ashamed. Not over the fact that he’d behaved in such a deplorable manner to his son, but the fact that he’d been exposed to his other son. Dickon’s face fell. He brought his hand up to wipe his face and collect his thoughts. He side steps me, standing clearly before Daenerys.

“House Tarley has served House Targaryen for centuries.” He began, his voice steady. “My father fought for your house against Robert's army and now, I will fight for your house, Your Grace. House Tarley is with you.” Dickon kneels, bowing his head.

Daenerys looks at me, impressed before turning to the new Lord Tarley. “Rise.” She commands. “Your loyalty is greatly appreciated. I look forward to fighting beside you as I reclaim my family's throne.”

Dickon stands, bowing his head once again. I lightly pat his arm, “you made a wise decision.” I turn back, stepping back to my place besides Daenerys.

“I’m giving those who are still standing another chance. Bend the knee or suffer the consequences.” Daenerys looks at the rest of the men standing in the eye as she speaks. Half bend the knee, while the rest too dumb for their own good stood their ground. Daenerys looks towards the Dothraki who pull those who are still standing to the side so they could meet their punishment.

“Dickon..” Randyll calls out his son who doesn’t spare him a glance or reply as he’s dragged away.

Drogon moved towards the prisoners, eyeing them like a prize. Daenerys turns towards them, “I, Daenerys of House Targaryen, First of my name, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons, sentence you to die.”

She pauses, making eye contact with Drogon. “Dracarys.”

Drogon draws in a deep breath and dragonfire spews out of his mouth at the men. They’re instantly engulfed in flames, their bodies completely incinerated. The remaining Lannister men recoil in shock and horror. Drogon huffs, pleased with his work and turns back to his brother.

Daenerys turns back towards Dickon who had tears in his eyes after watching his fathers execution. “I will call for you to raise your banners, Lord Tarley. Until then, rest and prepare for the battle to come.” Daenerys says, sort of reminding Dickon of his new position as Lord, but also as one of her allies before she turns back and walks away with Tyrion not too far behind.

I stood atop the boulder, watching as the men who bent the knee walked away, thankful that they had lived before turning my gaze towards Dickon.

“You made a wise decision.” I say, softly. “It was a hard one, but right. You will be a far better Lord than your father was.”

“That’s not true. I can never be as great as him.” He said, dejected.

“Would you ever threaten your own child for wanting to be in the company of books rather than swords?” I ask.

Dickon shakes his head.

“Then you’re already better than him.”

—–

“Are we ready to leave?” I ask Daenerys and Tyrion.

“Yes,” says Daenerys. “Highgarden is secure. The Dothraki will remain at guard here until a group of Unsullied take over the castle.”

“And I’m assuming you’re going back home to check on the place?” I ask Tyrion.

He nods. “I won’t take too long at Casterly Rock.”

I looked around at the battle-ridden field. The once dead soldiers now buried under ground, stripped of their armor and weapons. I spot a Dothraki carrying one of the Lannisters' swords and get an idea.

I turned back to Tyrion and Daenerys. “Have all the enemy swords gathered and taken back to Dragonstone with us.”

Daenerys frowns. “Our men have plenty of swords, what use are the Lannisters weapons to us?”

“Just humor me.”

Daenerys and Tyrion share a look, but nonetheless, she gives the order to round up the swords. A few Dothraki call out towards us, signaling something to Daenerys.

“They say that they’re ready to leave.” Daenerys explains.

Understanding, Tyrion bows. “Then I will be taking my leave, Your Grace.”

Daenerys dismisses him with a nod and the two of us watch as he makes his way over to the Dothraki that would be escorting him to Casterly Rock. Once they were out of sight Daenerys and I began our walk to where our dragons were.

“How did you know that about Randall Tarley?” She asks.

“I read about him,” I replied. “His eldest, Sam, became a Maester and in his old age he wrote about his life. Growing up, his life on the Wall, being the first man ever to kill a White Walker, basically a biography. In the book he alluded that his father would have done anything to get him out of his family, even making things look like an accident.”

“So you did all of that on a hunch?”

I shrug. “It’s not a hunch if it’s true, is it?”

“I guess not.”

We fall into a comfortable silence, but it’s clear Daenerys is in deep thought. “What do you mean we need him?”

“Who?” I ask. “Jamie?”

She nods.

“I mean what I said.” I said. “We don’t need him now, but later. He’ll be a great ally and an important tool to help knock down Cersei.”

“Jamie will help bring down Cersei? The woman he loves?” Daenerys doesn’t sound convinced.

“He loves her now, but not for long. His bond with Cersei is already strained after the death of his children, it won’t be long for him to realize that the woman he once loved has changed for the worse.”

“So once he’s come to his senses he’ll bend the knee to me?”

“What? No?” I shook my head. “He’s not going to waltz onto Dragonstone and bend the knee. You need to remember, he was there when your father had gone mad, he lived through Aneys’ madness. I know you’re nothing like your father, but he doesn't and he’ll be hesitant to shake your hand.”

“You just said he is going to be an ally. How is he an ally if he doesn't bend the knee to me?”

“Because anyone who is against Cersei is an ally.”

She stops walking, staring off at Viserion and Drogon. Her eyes lingered at the wound on Drogon’s shoulder where he’d been pierced with a spear. A spark of anger runs through her at the thought that her son was injured.

I placed a hand on her shoulder. “She’ll pay for what she did tenfold, we’ll make sure of it. You just need to keep a cool head and trust me.”

She lets out a long breath through her nose, “okay.”

“Though, I think you and I should hitch a ride on Viserion and let Drogon fly alone.” Daenerys agrees with my suggestion and mounts Viserion after I do. Both dragons take to the sky, Drogon a little shaky, and they fly back to Dragonstone.

–––

When we landed we were greeted by Missandei, Jon, and Ser Davos. Missandei was the first to step forward, eyeing Drogon and then the blood on my armor.

“Are you hurt?”

I shake my head, helping Daenerys off. “It’s not mine. Give Drogon something to eat, he’ll heal on his own, so just let him be.”

She nods, relaying the same information to a Dothraki guard who goes to do as I’ve said. Daenerys walks over to where Jon and Ser Davos are standing back, still wary of the two dragons.

As they talked, Missandei turned to me, “have you heard from Grey Worm?”

I smiled, knowingly. “No, but Tyrion is heading to Casterly Rock and I’m sure he’ll send us a raven soon. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of alone time once he’s back.” I winked, teasingly.

She suppressed a smile, blushing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Daenerys turns back, beckoning us forward. We walk over to her, Jon and Davos glance over at the blood on my armor, but don’t comment.

“Jon Snow and his men have been exploring the caves below.” Daenerys explains. “As they’ve said, it’s filled with Dragonglass.”

Jon nods. “From what we’ve explored so far, we can tell that the entire cave system is filled with Dragonglass.”

“We’ll explore tomorrow in the morning,” Daenerys says, watching as the sun begins to set. “Everyone get some rest.”

Missandei and I bow, watching as she walks towards the castle. Today had been a long day and the last thing I wanted to do was explore some caves. Missandei and I began walking back to the castle with the men behind us. Jon and Davos walked silently together.

“How was Highgarden?,” Missandei asks.

“Beautiful,” I recall. “Minus the Lannister force trying to ransack it.”

“I’m sure Lady Olenna had something to say about that.” Missandei laughs, but I don't, catching her attention.

“What happened? Did she make it out safely?” Missandei asks.

I pause, thinking back to her in that room. “No,” everyone stops walking, shocked. I turn back to their expecting faces. “I got there in time, but she didn’t take the antidote. I tried to convince her, but all she said was that Cersei had taken everyone from her, that her time was over and she was at peace with it.”

“So you just?..”

“I honored her wishes. I held her hand until the poison took effect. I’ve already given the orders to have her buried with the rest of her family. At least Cersei can’t split them apart in the afterlife.”

No one spoke, all of them just taking in my words. The air got colder, and the stars began to peak out of the sky.

I shook my head, “It’s been a long day. I’ll see you all in the morning.” I turned, not waiting for a reply and trekked back into the castle. The halls were dark and barren, but it was still nice. The walk to my room was refreshing, there was a small ache in my legs from riding Viserion all day. How Daenerys was able to fly a top of Drogon with no saddle was beyond me. Maybe I could look into making a saddle. Once in my room, I slipped my armor and clothes off and stepped into the already drawn bath waiting for me.

Tomorrow was going to be another big day. Everything was starting to pick up fast. So much was going to start happening in such little time. I could only hope that it’ll end up in our favor instead of Cersei’s or worse, the White Walkers. Once I had bathed I slipped into my nightgown and settled into bed with a heavy heart.

––

The air smelt like salt, fish and seaweed. A gust of air rushed past me as I walked down the stone steps towards the beach, blowing my hair silver back. I spotted Missandei and Daenerys already there, talking amongst themselves.

I bowed my head towards Dany, “it’s fucking freezing out here.”

“The days are getting colder,” Daenerys says.

“Where’s Jon?” I ask, looking around the beach. Both northern men and our Dothraki were scattered around the shore, carrying boxes and supplies.

“There,” Daenerys juts out her chin, pointing at Jon making his way over to us.

“Your Grace, My Lady,” Jon says. “This way.”

He leads the three of us to the entrance of the cave where he’s handed a torch by Ser Davos. The opening is dimly lit, almost inviting until you look deep into the center of the cave where nothing but the dark pit awaits. I clench my jaw, nervous. I hadn’t been in here since that night.

“Are you okay?” Daenerys asks in hushed Valyrian, just loud enough for me to hear.

I stare into the cave and nod, my hand instinctively coming up to where my necklace sits on my neck.

“It’s just a cave, that’s all.” I can't tell if I’m telling her or myself.

Missandei and Ser Davos wait by the entrance of the cave as the three of us step forward. Jon leads with Daenerys beside him while I follow behind her. The cave looked the same as it did when I woke up. I could feel an unsettling feeling settle on my chest as we went further into the cave and closer to it.

“I wanted you to see it before we start hacking it to bits.” Jon says. He lights a brazier, illuminating the cave and the Dragonglass against the fire.

Daenerys looks around the cave in awe. “Is this what you saw when you first entered?” She asks, looking at me over her shoulder.

I shake my head. “No. They’d hacked away at most of the glass in this cave over the years for weapons or jewelry. When I came here it just looked like a cave.”

Jon lights another brazier, listening to our conversation, despite not knowing what we were saying. “So this is it, all we’ll ever need. There is something else I want to show you.”

He steps further into the cave and Daenerys turns back, asking with her eyes, are you okay? I nodded and beckoned her forwards. She turned, following Jon. I held my breath the closer we got to the carvings. A few nights after my arrival I’d sat down and explained to Daenerys how I’d gotten here, or was brought here, more or less, but decided to leave out the part about the paintings.

The jagged cave walls were now covered in multiple carvings. The carvings reached all the way up to the ceiling of the cave. They varied from swirl patterns to drawings and smooth shapes. Looking at all of it so up close, I couldn’t help but marvel at it all. After so many centuries, the carvings remained the same, undisturbed. When I’d first arrived those carvings had either faded or were hacked away by people who wanted “a piece of history” but seeing them now in its actuality left a shiver down my spine.

“The Children of the Forest made these.” Jon uses the flame of the torch to show the molars painted onto the walls.

“When?” Daenerys asks.

“A very long time ago.” He replies.

“They were right there standing where we’re standing before there were Targaryens or Starks or Lannisters. Maybe even before there were men.” Daenerys says.

“No,” Daenerys turns from the wall to Jon. Jon walks to another wall, bringing the flame close to show a decision of the Children of the Forest and the First Men standing together. “They were here together, the Children and the First Men.”

“Doing what?” Daenerys asks, stepping closer to examine the murals. “Fighting each other?”

Jon takes her by the arm, leading her to the other side of the cave, using the torch to light the way. The mural showed the Night King and the White Walkers.

“They fought together against their common enemy.” She says, putting it all together. “Despite their differences, despite their suspicions, together.” Daenerys stares down the painting, silent. “We need to do the same if we’re going to survive.”

“Because the enemy is real. It’s always been real.” Jon finishes her thought.

Daenerys turns to Jon. “And you say you can’t defeat them without my armies and my dragons?”

“No, I don’t think I can.”

Daenerys steps forward, closer to Jon. “I will fight for you. I will fight for the north…” Jons face softens just slightly, “when you bend the knee.” Only for it to harden again.

“My people won’t accept a southern ruler, not after everything they’ve suffered.” Jon doubles down.

Daenerys steps even closer, “they will if their king does,” she argued. “They chose you to lead them. They chose you to protect them.”

There was a pregnant pause, the Dragon Queen and the King in the North staring at each other, either one not willing to back down.

“The Boltens were northern,” I finally spoke up, eyeing the two. They both look up at me. “Second most powerful House in the North after the Starks. Tell me, were they better than Southern rulers?”

Jon opened his mouth to interject but I cut him off. “Is your pride more important than your people's survival?”

Jon closes his mouth, standing down while Daenerys seems pleased that I was there to deliver the final blow. There’s another moment of silence as Jon mulls over our words.

“The torch.” I say, conusfung Jon and Daenerys. “Hand me the torch.”

Confused, he hands me the torch. Daenerys frowns, “are there more paintings?”

Jon shakes his head. “No, Your Grace.”

“There are.” I step between them, walking deeper into the cave. “Let me show you what I saw that night.”

Silently, they followed me, Jon looking between Daenerys and I. I lit the way for the three of us, my eyes bouncing off of the walls for the markings. I stopped suddenly, staring at the wall on my right. There.

I moved to the torch forwards, revealing the full mural. Daenerys brushed past a bewildered Jon and stood by me. Surprisingly, my necklace didn’t react like it did before, allowing me to fully see the mural.

There, same emblem as my necklace; two dragons entwined around a sword with a ruby at the hilt in the middle of a dragon eating itself, like the drawing of a snake eating itself. There also seemed to be a message written below, although crudely. The symbols mirrored the glyphs used in Valyrian, enough for someone to decipher it, but almost illegible. I moved the torch closer to the nearly faded symbols. When I had gone to see the paintings, before I was brought here, everything was smudged but still legible while the words were completely faded away.

“What does it say?” Daenerys asks.

I carefully read aloud. “ābrar iā morghon.”

“What does that mean?”

“Life or Death.”

–––

The walk back to the entrance of the cave was quiet, each one of us deep in our heads. When we reached the entrance Davos and Missandei were joined by Varys who held two raven scrolls. He glances over the three of us before bowing, handing off the ravens to Daenerys. She opened one, reading the contents and pocketing it. She eyed the other, this one tied in red ribbon, on the side a word was written. Knowingly, Daenerys handed it off to a confused Missandei.

Daenerys and I smiled at each other, like giggling school girls before she turned her attention back to the people around us.

“The Westerlands and the Reach are now fully secured.” Daenerys announced.

“That means Cersei has the Crownlands and, what? The Stormlands?” I hum. “If they haven’t turned on her yet.”

“She’s surrounded.” Daenerys says, elated.

“Don’t be quick to sound so excited. We still have a long ways to go.” I say. “She still has whatever remains of Euron’s fleet, the remaining Lannister army and the city's watch, and, if she can, which I doubt, the Golden Company.”

“How is she to gain the Golden Company's support if we’ve stopped her plan?” Missandei asks.

She wasn’t wrong. Cersei’s grand plan to gain the Myrish sellsword company’s favor was to sack Highgarden and by herself an army and supposedly elephants, but now that Daenerys and I have foiled that plan, while also dealing a heavy blow to her army, she has almost no options. But we still have to be vigilant. Everything was going well for Daenerys originally, until she was dealt blow after blow to the point of madness.

“There’s other ways,” I answer. “The Red Keep is the Targaryens' second home. Every King from Aegon the first to Aenys has walked those halls. It’s littered with Targaryen artifacts, not to mention that there are nineteen known dragon skulls under the Red Keep, and many more that we don’t know.” I shake my head, “she still has a way to gain their favor.”

Daenerys grimaced at the thought of Cersei being in possession of her family's items whether it be a simple pot or the dragon skulls of all the dragons that had remained after the Doom.

“Then what do we do?” She asks me.

“We wait.” I say. “We out number her, no doubt. But we can’t rush or else we’ll make a mistake and create an opening for her to strike on. We must stay vigilant.”

Everyone agrees, understanding the full degree of things. We had one shot, one opportunity to take the throne, and rushing was not an option.

Daenerys turned to Jon. “Tell your men to continue their mining, if you require more hands, tell me and I’ll put my men to good work.”

“Also,” I turned to Jon. “Light as much of the cave as you can. Preferably past those markings. And tell your men not to touch them, they’re already faded as it is, we don’t need them wiped away.”

“I understand.” Jon bows to Daenerys and I before he and Ser Davos walk away to begin their work.

––

Everyone in the castle is asleep except for Daenerys and I, lounging in the Painted Chamber. The hearth is lit and a platter of bread, fruit, and wine is laid out for us. On the table an Unsullied figurine stood on both Highgarden and Casterly Rock. The Martel sigil stood tall on Sunspeer and a Kraken on the Iron Islands while in the North stood a Direwolf. The only Lion remaining on the map was on King’s Landing.

“All these allies, all these soldiers yet I’m still not close enough to my goal.” Daenerys mumbles, a cup of wine in hand.

“You will,” I plucked a grape off the vine, plopping it into my mouth. “There’s still a long ways to go.”

She takes another swig of wine, “how far ahead are we?”

I lean back on the sofa, head tilted up. “We stopped them mid way to Highgarden, which is about a day and a half ride to and from King's Landing. Capturing Casterly Rock only took half a day, thanks to the new armor and weapons that Tyrion’s raven mentioned. If I had to guess, four or five days.”

“That’s it?”

“It’s not much, but at times of war every day counts.”

We settle into silence, Daenerys planning what to do next while I try to fight off sleep.

“They’ll starve.”

“Hm?” I slowly open my eyes.

“The people of King’s Landing, they’ll starve. We’ve cut off their food by taking both the Rock and the Reach.”

I nod. “We have.”

Daenerys pauses. “But you already knew that.”

“Mm-hmm.” I sighed through my nose, sitting up. “Out of everyone in King’s Landing, Cersei has the most food. And if she’s such a benevolent ruler, then she’ll distribute it to the smallfolk.”

“But she wont.”

“Exactly. Civil unrest will ensue and the people's hate for Cersei will get worse.”

Daenerys sighed, placing the glass of wine on the table. “How did Aegon do it?”

I watched her tired expression carefully. “He had his sisters. Visenya mostly focused on the war aspect of the campaign while Rhaenys focused on allies and the smallfolk.”

“There’s only two of us.”

No there aren’t.

“We’ll see.” I finished the cup of wine. “Speaking of, how is your and Jon Snow’s relationship?”

Daenerys turns a light shade of red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure.” I say, not convinced. “Have you shown him the dragons?”

She shook her head. “They’d eat him alive.”

“I won’t be so sure.”

She watches me pick off some more grapes.

“ābrar iā morghon. Life or Death.”

I stopped what I was doing, slowly glancing up to meet Daenerys’ gaze.

“What does it mean?” She asks aloud. “What does any of it mean?”

I take a moment, rubbing my face. “Maybe it’s asking us to pick.”

“Between life or death?”

I hummed. “Do you know what a dragon eating itself means?”

She shakes her head.

“It represents the eternal cycle of rebirth and destruction.” I say, absentmindedly swirling my finger in a circle. “It’s supposed to be a snake, but instead this one is a dragon.”

“And this dragon represents you?”

“No, you. Well, rather your house, I guess.” I dropped my hand, folding them on top of my stomach. “For centuries the Targaryens have tethered between destroying itself and thriving. It’s asking you to pick life or death. Do you want to be the reason why the Targaryens finally tip over and destroy itself or the reason it thrives for generations to come.”

She sighs, frowning. “I came here to reclaim my family’s throne, but now that I’m here I’ve been told of the Army of the Dead and now that the fate of my house rests in my hand.”

I stand up, moving to sit next to her. “I know, it’s a lot. But you can do it.”

Her eyes wander over to the map of Westeros, landing on the Lion on King’s Landing and the Dragon on Dragonstone, facing one another. The stone carved lion mocked the dragon. If it could speak it would definitely be saying something along the lines of “I dare you, pussy. Do something,” but more in an old Westerosi fashion.

“One step at a time,” I reached over for her hand. “Everything will fall into place and you’ll have Cersei at her knees and the throne in your hands.”

a/n: another chapter for you lovely people. i was wondering, now that we're getting closer to climax of the story (night king and cersei) how would you guys feel if i also wrote some side stories that would take place after the main one? smt like life after taking back the throne and what not, lmk ur thoughts.

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