#vermax my beloved

[cookietrains]

To some, today is Father's Day...

To others, it's HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON TWO BABIEEEEEEEEEEE *air horn 📢📢📢

Fuck yeah! Gimme these Magical Beasts ���️

[vermaxs-archive2]

the north is cold and gray and steepled in dark trees, accompanied by a chill which seeps into jacaerys' bones as easily as it must cling to vermax's scales, the southern born boy must wonder: how the people here made it look so easy to survive. running gloved fingertips over the bronze plates that cover her flank, jacaerys smiles softly at vermax. " they don't, do they? " he spots their wary eyes around them, watching as boy speaks to beast with curious looks. " but we are here to make allies, not enemies. they'll learn that soon enough. "

the  endless  winter  sets  a  stunning  contrast  against  bronze  scales  ,      evoking  a  shine  from  her  hide  .         the  dragon  snorts  quietly  ,      uneasy  at  the  attention  of  so  many  commonfolk  :      there  is  no  dragonpit  here  ,      only  wide  open  plains  dotted  with  bare  trees  .      “   are  you  sure  that  they  would  not  like  to  try  ?   ”      dry  wings  rustle  as  they  shuffle  against  her  side  ,      fanning  open      &      closed  as  if  tempted  to  take  flight  .      “   they  do  not  look  pleased  at  our  coming  .   ”

[venusbyline]

I know you write Dark!Jace but what are your headcanons for normal Jace?

HEADCANON: Betrothal with twin!Jacaerys

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x twin sister!reader

— type: smut, fluff

— tags/warnings: female!reader, soft!Jacaerys, betrothal, Targcest (twin brother/twin sister), loss of virginity, vaginal sex, cowgirl position, vaginal fingering, fingerfucking, argument, wedding ceremony, implied Lucerys Velaryon/Rhaena Targaryen, underage sex, switch!Jacaerys, switch!reader, canon divergence (No Dance of the Dragons). no use of y/n, english is not my first language.

— author's notes: Since you asked my "normal" headcanons about Jace, I decided to write something related to Twincest, because besides being one of my favorite pairings, I also think that Jacaerys is the HOTD male character who would be most likely to marry his twin sister.

— high valyrian words used: Kostilus (please), Ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved)

❥ about me • Jacaerys masterlist • HOTD masterlist • main masterlist

• Jacaerys would make a perfect betrothed. As the heir to the Iron Throne, the prince had enough privileges to be able to marry any woman of Westeros. At first, everyone thought that marrying him to a Lady from an important house would be a good move, talking about political terms. Daemon even tried to convince Rhaenyra to betroth Jace to his daughter Baela, just as Lucerys was betrothed to Rhaena by their own choices. However, Rhaenyra had always made it clear that she would not meddle about her children's future relationships and would let them get betrothed whenever they wanted and with whomever they wanted.

• Although Rhaenyra was slightly surprised when Jacaerys told his mother that he would like to be married to you, his twin sister. She did not oppose her children's decision. She had always noticed how close the twins were since their birth, and two House Targaryen's siblings betrothing would not be nothing new to the realm.

• Jacaerys would do everything to always be as next to you as possible since your betrothal announcement. He was euphoric at the idea of finally being able to express to the whole world how much he was in love with you. He would hold your hand during dinners and stay by your side during the Small Council meetings.

• Flying together would be one of your favorite couple's activities. You would ride your dragon and Jacaerys would ride Vermax so you could pass through the skies together and then stop somewhere, a little time away from the Court and with more privacy. At first, Jace always tried to be a gentleman, chuckling when you took advantage of the moment alone and kissed him almost roughly. Jacaerys let you guide his body further away from your dragons and lying on the floor so you could sit on his lap and not just kiss him, but also rub yourself against him.

• "Gods... You are such a tease, sweet sister." He murmured as you rested your hands on his torso, your hips moving back and forth, the friction causing both of you to moan even though you were dressed in your flying clothes.

• Jacaerys tried to wait until the wedding. He really tried very well. He was a gentle young man and had been successful in never going to brothels. But prostitutes were nothing compared to you. Your twin only had eyes for you, and it was not long before the two of you fucking in secret. It started when he went to your chambers during a night when he was insomnia, managing to get through without being caught by the guards thank the Seven.

• You were horny that night. All it took was a bit of small talk between you until the night turned into sighs and low moans of pleasure as Jace sank into your cunt, his eyes wide and full lips parted, making whimpering sounds and enjoying the warm of your tight walls.

• After taking your virginity and losing his too, Jace held you in his embrace, both of you naked and sweaty, your breasts pressed against his chest until you finally fell asleep. He stroked your damp hair and placed a kiss on your forehead, covering your body before leaving, so as not to arouse any suspicions whisper. Even though Rhaenyra was not against sex before marriage, neither you nor Jace wanted your mother to know about you two already doing it.

• Free time at the library was also a joint pastime. It always started with you accompanying your twin during his study hours, helping him learn High Valyrian, correcting him when he pronounced something wrong.

• Jacaerys was always embarrassed when he was corrected, his cheeks red and a pout on his lips to try to hide his slight anger. You knew how much he pressured himself, afraid of not being a great King in the future. Some alternative study methods were needed and established then.

• "Kostilus, ñuha jorrāeliarzy..." Jace moaned tearfully, the High Valyrian pronunciation of the plea and the sweet words sounding perfect for someone who was feeling his betrothed riding his cock. "Ride me faster. I need to cum inside your cunt so bad..." Your brother grabbed your hips to help you move the way he needed.

• During the betrothal, Jace was so soft when he was fucking you, unfortunately needing to avoid love marks that would make it very clear what you were doing hidden in the free time. He also focused more on your pleasure than his own, always making a point of caressing your sensitive pearl with his fingers and playing with them inside you, until you had to put the palm of your hand in your mouth to muffle the moans, sounds wet sounds echoing throughout the room.

• When your lunar blood arrived, your twin's behavior was something mixed with relief and disappointment. A part of him was less worried knowing that you were not pregnant until the wedding ceremony. A pregnancy before the right time could cause a lot of bad rumors about the two of you. But he was also so fucking frustrated, thinking about what your future children would be like, so eager to make that dream come true soon.

• You were not a termagant couple. The few times you fought during the betrothal were because Jace was being stubborn and childish on a daily basis. If he was reprimanded at a Small Council meeting, he would sulk for hours, making you two argue because you tried to talk to him about the situation and he just gave you the silent treatment, even though you were not directly connected to the problem. The arguments did not last long, ending with Jace entering your chambers late at night to apologize, making you sigh with relief and then welcoming him to your bed so you could spend a few hours together to make up the lost time.

• We can say that Jacaerys would be extremely excited for the wedding ceremony. The more the days approached, the happier and more talkative about that your twin brother became. He had been waiting for that specific day for months like an eager boy, also secretly dreaming about a life like this for years. It would be a classic Valyrian Wedding rite and Jace would be smiling at you all the time as if you were the prettiest girl in all of Westeros. And in his eyes you really were. His twin sister, the love of his life. Now his dear wife, the one who would be the mother of his children and his Queen Consort.

[silverwingxox]

A Hidden Challenge - Cregan Stark

Pairing : Cregan Stark x Velaryon!Reader x mentions of Aegon Targaryen

Warnings : Targcest, talks of arranged marriages.

Summary : You fly North to Winterfell and meet Cregan Stark, the young wolf your mother wishes for you to marry, but not without a challenge.

Author's Note : Silverwing girly, I don't know wether to make this a series or not, idk.

“I need you to fly North as an envoy, not a warrior.” your mother Rhaenyra said softly, a scroll in her hands. You looked out to sea, your dragon Silverwing flying in the open air with your brother’s dragon, Vermax. “I will send Jace to the Eyrie and Luke to Storm’s End.” your mother continued. Looking towards the rightful Queen, you gave a nod of your head, the sea breeze blowing strands of your brown hair into your face. 

“Silverwing has been North before, she’ll fare the best.” you agree with your mother, holding your hand out to take the sealed scroll. Rhaenyra brought her soft hands to your face, running her thumbs over your cheeks gently, as though trying to remember each one of your features, this only lasts a few seconds before she pulls you into a tight embrace and presses a motherly kiss upon your crown. 

“(Y/N)...you are my heir, it is only right you should know what I have written to Lord Stark.” The Rightful Queen states, pulling away a little, to look into your (e/c) eyes. Confusion takes over your features as you look up to your mother. “I know I have always said I wish for you to marry a man of your own choosing. But with this war on the horizon, I fear I can no longer allow you that freedom.” Rhaenyra states, her eyes softening as she watches your face fall.  

You had no desire to marry, not for a long time. You had wished to marry for love, not convenience. However, you were heir to the Iron Throne so you knew there would be a chance of you entering a political marriage, you remember crying to your mother about it once your uncle Aemond decided to tease you, scare you in fact, of stories of what men do to their wives. Especially wives who aren’t of their own choosing. How brutal they can be when it comes to creating an heir, how they whore around just trying to escape their wives. It was that night your mother promised you she would have you marry for love, not convenience. 

“Yes mother.” You said obediently, the scroll suddenly feeling heavy in your grasp. Rhaenyra took your hands in hers and looked at you lovingly. “Cregan Stark is closer to your age than mine, he is said to be as loyal as they come and I’ve heard rumors of his dashing good looks.” Your mother said the last point, trying to cheer you up as much as she could. 

“Whatever my Queen commands.” You say monotone, you didn’t mean to take such a short tone with your mother, you wanted to apologize and hug her tight but all you could think about was the man you left back in King's Landing, the man you could no longer love, the man who sat upon your mother’s throne. 

“(Y/N) I-” Rhaenyra tried, she didn’t want to part on bad terms. Anything could happen until the next time she lays her eyes upon you. You put the scroll in the pocket of your riding trousers, and begin to fiddle with the silver knot ring on your index finger. Your beloved ring your Uncle Aegon had given you on your last name day. 

“I best go, It’s a long journey and I need to prepare Silverwing.” As if hearing your conversation with your mother, your beloved dragon turned her body with a loud roar and made her way towards the dragon pit. As you turned your body to leave, your mother grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you into her chest.  “You are my eldest child and my only daughter, promise me you will be safe. Be vigilant. I love you.” hearing your mother’s words, you couldn’t resist any longer. You wrapped your arms around your mother’s waist and squeezed your eyes shut.

“I love you mother.” With one last kiss upon your temple from Rhaenyra, you turn from your mother and head toward your chambers to pack some of your belongings. 

The journey to Winterfell was a long and cold one, you made a mental note to thank Baela when you next see her for reminding you to pack warm. Holding onto your saddle, with one hand, you lean forward and give Silverwing a good few pats. “Māzigon va hāedar” (Come on girl.) you encourage your beloved companion. The high valyrian rolling of your tongue naturally. As Winterfell came into view, you bit your lip looking for a place to land. “Tegon Silverwing.” (Land Silverwing.) Following your command, the majestic dragon scans the white covered land and makes her descend, just outside the castle gates. 

“DRAGON!” smiling to yourself you can’t help the little laugh that escapes your mouth from hearing the panicked shouting and seeing people flea around the courtyard. Silverwing huffs, as though the Northern folk are just over reacting. Once Silverwing had come to a stop, she lowered herself down to the ground, making it easier for you to climb from her back. As you walked towards the gates guarding the castle, your eyes scanned the people coming towards you slowly, all following behind a man who you could only assume was Cregan Stark. Seeing the group of men walking towards you, Silverwing let out a warning roar, making the Northern men halt in their advance. 

“Gīda Silverwing.” (Calm Silverwing.) Your eyes lock with the stormy gray eyes of Lord Stark, you take in his appearance, from his brown hair falling into his handsome face, his broad shoulders, his ancestral sword sat on his back. He was tall, and you hated to admit your mother was right, but he was in fact good looking. You lifted your head, a teasing glint in your eyes as you silently challenged Cregan to walk towards you. 

Unbeknown to you, Cregan Stark was stunned from seeing a dragon outside his castle gates, but shockingly it wasn’t the giant beast that had him at a stand still, it was you. Princess (Y/N) Velaryon. It would seem your mother’s title had been passed down to you, as you were in fact The Realm’s Delight in his eyes. He had never seen a woman so breathtakingly beautiful before, his eyes trailed down your body before returning to look upon your face, not caring that you had caught him shamelessly admiring your body. 

“Princess, It is an honor. Winterfell is at your mercy.” Cregan spoke loudly to you in formality, still a bit of distance between you. “We weren’t expecting you to travel North so soon.” The young lord spoke once more as he walked towards you, despite the uncertain looks from his men and the warning look coming from your dragon. 

“Lord Stark, I have a letter from the Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen.” You spoke confidently, as you pulled the scroll from your pocket, you held out your hand, not moving an inch. Silently daring Cregan to come within touching distance of Silverwing. Cregan smirked at you  as he slowly walked closer towards you and your fire breathing dragon. Silverwing let out a low rumble causing Cregan to halt for a few seconds before he continued in his pursuit. He knew you wouldn’t let your dragon kill him, your mother needed his support and his men, but he still decided to play into your hands. 

As Cregan came to stand in front of you, it was then you noticed the height difference, he was at least a head if not two heads taller than you, having always been a bit on the smaller side, yet another thing your uncle Aemond would tease you about. Cregan bowed his head in respect before taking the scroll from your outstretched hand. 

The young wolf opened the scroll in front of you, his stormy eyes scanning the message written in ink. His eyes met yours as he gave a slight nod of his head, looking behind you at your dragon, Cregan held out his hand for you to take. “Let us discuss this over food and drink.” Slipping your soft hand in his rough larger one, you followed the young lord through the iron gates. 

“Get a few sheep for the Princesses dragon, it has been a long journey for them.” Cregan commands one of his men, as he leads the way to the castle entrance. The man who had received the command looked at the beast with a gulp, suddenly feeling faint, Silverwing shook her head at the pale looking man knowing she wasn’t getting her meal anytime soon.

[starogeorgina]

𝐔𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧

Paring: Aemond Targaryen × Targaryen reader, minor Daemon Targaryen × Targaryen reader

Warnings: Swearing, kidnapping, self harm

1.03

“Shh, shh,” you try to gently rock Daenys to sleep. “Please, calm down, sweet girl.”

Your daughter was brought to you in the early hours since she woke up fussy and wouldn’t latch onto the wet nurse. Luckily, she fed from your breast without issue, but your silver-haired baby was still unhappy and crying. From the flush in Daeny's cheeks and the redness in her gums, you suspect she has started teething.

“Princess,” one of the handmaids approaches you while nervously pulling on the sleeve of her dress. You often wonder how the servants who followed Rhaenyra to Dragonstone felt watching the way their beloved princess was treated. “The maester wishes to speak with you as a matter of urgency. There is a wet nurse in the room down the hall; would you like me to take Daenys to her while you dress?”

Reluctantly, you nod and hand your daughter over to the younger woman. As soon as you’re left alone, you bring the faded nightgown over your head and redress yourself, choosing to put on the light grey gown you were wearing the night you were taken. It was made to accommodate the swell of your stomach, and now the extra fabric hung loose down the front. You had others to choose from, but it was one of the only items you had that was truly yours.

In every passing moon, the maester would examine you for any sign of pregnancy, which was humiliating, so you’d at least attempt to try and maintain a shred of dignity. You comb your hair with your fingers and try to straighten out the creases on your dress. Just as you finish adjusting yourself, the door to the room opens, and the maester, followed by a handmaiden, enters.

—

You were cursed by the ghosts of your father's blindness and your mother's lies. Your mother claimed that before King Viserys died, he declared he wanted Aegon on the throne, and all the men who deemed a woman unfit to rule believed her. Your father turned a blind eye to your family's scheming for years, and now the future of the realm would be full of war, murder, and misery.

As you dig your nails into the palm of your hand to stop yourself from screaming, blaming your parents for this situation was an easy option. If the throne wasn’t usurped, then envoys would never have been sent; Lucerys would still be alive, as would Jaehaerys, and you and your daughter would be safe in Aemond’s arms.

And if your father had been stronger-willed, none of it would have happened.

Being so caught up in your own thoughts, you don’t notice Prince Daemon entering the room. It’s not until you feel his presence beside you that you finally address him, “What is it?”

“A raven arrived from the red keep; one of my little spies has informed Criston Cole and your cunt of a husband that we have taken you north.”

No, no, no.

“They are currently gathering the green forces and will leave in a couple of days. Which means the false king won’t have that hoary old bitch, Vhagar, to hide behind. With only Sunfyre on his side, we can easily take the city back with the mere threat of Caraxes, Syrax, Vermax, Moondancer, and Tyraxes.”

“Need I remind you, uncle, which side my dragon is on?”

Gripping your jaw tightly, Daemon shoved you against the wall. “Need I remind you, niece, that you’re nothing more than a prisoner? I’ve spared your daughter's life, something the fucking kinslayer didn’t do for Luccerys.”

You slap his hand away and say, “You’ve got what you wanted; you're getting another child. Do not fucking touch me again.”

Daemon places both hands firmly on the wall beside your head, caging you in. His eyes flickered over you; he didn’t quite believe what you just said. “The maester confirmed this?”

“I haven’t bled in two moons; the maester is convinced my stomach will swell again soon.” Sarcastically, you add, “Congratulations; I hope you're as excited as I am.”

—

After speaking with the maester himself, Daemon kept his original promise and had you move to a larger, more comfortable bedchamber with crimson colors and dragon decor, and soon a crib would be brought in and your daughter would join you. All you cared about was keeping Daenys close.

You feel the lavish oils soothing the ache in your shoulders when one of the handmaidens rubs them onto your skin. This was the first time in many moons you had bathed properly, and the luxury of having a clean body, hair, and clothing wasn’t something you’d take for granted again.

“My Prince,” the handmaiden nods her head at him, then attempts to cover you up with a towel, causing your uncle to chuckle.

“It’s considered bad manners to interrupt a lady while she’s bathing.”

“It’s nothing new," he says as he stands at the bottom of the tub, showing no attempt to advertise his gaze from your bare breasts. “Perhaps I wanted to join you in bathing.”

“I’d rather you drowned me.“

Daemon smirks, “Leave us.”

The handmaiden gives you an apologetic look, then leaves. No matter how many times Daemon spilled his seed inside you, the reality of carrying his child never felt real until now. You’d already suffered on the birthing bed out of duty; now you’d be doing it again to keep Daenys safe. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you taste the salty tears on your lips. “What happens if this pregnancy doesn’t end well?”

“What do you mean?”

“I had two other daughters once; both of them died.”

Daemon comes to the side of the tub and crouches down so he’s eye level with you. “I wasn’t aware.”

Red blotches appear on your chest and neck as you struggle to stop your voice from cracking. “The first girl's name was Anya; she came early after three days of labor.”

Your mother had remained by your side throughout your labor, and the look of horror on her face when she saw the ‘thing’ you delivered would be forever etched in your mind. Anya’s skin was covered in small scars that looked similar to dragon scales. But no matter how monstrous she may have appeared to others, you thought she was beautiful. Against the maesters advice, Aemond visited you before the silent sisters had come to take the baby, and it was the first time since the night he lost his eyes that you’d seen him cry.

“I gave birth to Rhaella the following year; she was born at the end of the fall but was taken by the winter fever.“

The expression on Daemon’s face was hard to read; he himself knew of the pain you and Aemond have suffered from losing a baby. And you could only begin to imagine the grief and suffering the blacks felt after Lucery's death. “And news of this never reached Dragonstone?”

Your eyes sting from crying. “Our family has always been divided; who would have told you?”

“My brother.”

“Ha,” you scoff. “You saw what my father was like in the end. He had consumed so much milk from the poppy that he became oblivious to everything around him; the only person he ever wished to speak with was Rhaenyra.”

Frowning, he skims his finger over the water.

“I feared I would never again bear a living child, but the gods blessed me with Daenys. But I shall ask again, uncle, What will happen if this pregnancy doesn’t end well?”

“You do not want to find out, niece.”

[nemesyaaa]

THE MOODBOARD IS EVERYTHING. I LOVE IT SO BADLY 😭

jacaerys velaryon

eldest son of queen rhaenyra targaryen and ser laenor velaryon

prince of dragonstone

by: selenetarg

[bumblesimagines]

The Beasts of The North

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

Summary: While he's meant to be convincing the Wolf of the North to send his men to fight a war for his mother, Jace cannot help but grow enthralled by the love between Lord Cregan and Ser (Y/N).

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, mentions/implied homophobia/homophobic religion (The Faith), slight age gaps, slight suggestive content, Cregan and (Y/N) are head over heels, (Y/N) is not a stepfather he is the father that stepped up, bicurious Jace

I know I said I was gonna focus on UTM but my motivation left as quick as my dad did so here we are 🤷🏻‍♀️

~~~

A low, heavy sigh escaped Jace as he sank further into the tub, the heated water digging pleasantly into his skin and ridding it of the cold that'd sunk into him the moment he flew into the North. His head drooped back, the back of his neck resting along the wall of the tub as he slipped in further until the water brushed against his chin. His palms rubbed along his thighs, massaging away the soreness from riding Vermax for so long. 

His eyes glided around his new room, taking in everything around him. It reminded him of his bedchambers in Dragonstone with the stone walls and smooth, warm floor but it was sadly where the similarities stopped. It lacked the salty smell of the sea breeze wafting in through the windows, the sound of the waves crashing with the rocky cliffs, the clinking of metal from guards walking around. Most of all.. it lacked his beloved family. It lacked his precious brothers... it lacked his beloved mother. His skin warmed from embarrassment. He was man-grown and the Crown Prince, yet he desperately wished to have his mother near so he could ask her what to say and do.

Jace pushed himself up and began washing himself, scrubbing his skin clean until he no longer smelled of leather and dragon. He remained in the tub for a while longer, soaking up the heat of the water until it became tepid, before rising from the tub and drying himself. His mind raced as he changed into new clothes, his thoughts surrounding Lord Cregan and what to make of him. 

He'd flown to the Eyrie first to meet with Lady Jeyne Arryn and managed to garner her support through promises of protecting the Vale of Arryn with dragons, managed to sway the support of the Three Sisters in their favor through Lord Borrell, and arranged for Lord Desmond Manderly of the White Harbor's youngest daughter to one day wed little Joffery in exchange for his support. But what could he possibly offer Lord Cregan Stark to lessen the impact of his men undoubtedly dying once war finally began?

Jace had no younger sisters to offer as a potential bride to Rickon Stark; no lands or titles that could even amount to the lands of Winterfell and the title of Warden of the North; no dragons that'd be pleased to call the North home; no older female relatives to offer as the new Lady of Winterfell (and he certainly wouldn't wish to upset a Mormont); no riches or coin that'd be worth sending men to die. He had nothing to offer, nothing the lord would care for, at least. 

His fingers buttoned his white undershirt, his legs leading him toward the window to peer out to the ground below where he had a perfect view of the training grounds. Ser (Y/N) stood by below, his eyes closely watching the squires and boys given to him for training and lips contorted into a frown. He looked older in certain lights, more mature than the age Jace presumed him to be. His lips quirked when Ser (Y/N) smacked the back of one of the squires with his wooden sword, the exasperated expression on his face reminding him of all the times he practiced with Luke and had to scold the boy. 

His concerned, borderline anxious thoughts surrounding his host shifted, recalling the words Ser (Y/N) had spoken before he'd left. The Faith of the Seven viewed relations between those of the same sex to be a sin, something septas and maesters warned young children against. But Jace was no fool, nor was he blind or deaf. He'd heard plenty of rumors in court, seen lingering touches between a noblewoman and her favorite handmaiden or fleeting glances between a lord and his personal guard. His own father, Laenor Velaryon, had been said to enjoy the company of men over women; and looking back on his youth, Jace recalled the times he and Ser Qarl Correy often left together, smiling big and lovingly at each other.

Jace liked ladies, he'd be a fool not to with their beauty. But he'd be lying if he said he'd never looked at a lordling or knight and wondered what it'd be like to be with them. He often brushed those thoughts away and told himself it was simply admiration or envy but something in his heart had fluttered when he laid eyes on Lord Cregan and Ser (Y/N), something that blossomed when he witnessed the adoring exchange between the two. 

Lovers.

Ser (Y/N) had said it so proudly, so sure of himself. Jace wondered how many times his father had dreamt of declaring his love for Ser Qarl, dreamt of being himself publically without facing the scrutiny and denial of everyone around him. He wondered then, if the longing stares exchanged between his mother and Queen Alicent meant something other than a desire to rekindle a long-lost friendship. 

"Prince Jacaerys," He startled and turned away from the window, noticing Sara Snow lingering by the doorway. She smiled politely at him and entered the room, crossing the distance to stand beside him by the window as servants slipped in after her and drained the tub. The servants collected his discarded clothes and bowed before retreating, leaving the two in silence. Jace turned back to her and returned the smile with one of his own. 

Snow. A bastard of the North, yet treated as if she were a full-blooded Stark; perhaps because she looked so much like one with her shoulder-length raven hair and those pale blue eyes that resembled Lord Cregan's. Jace couldn't help the prickle of envy that slipped into his veins. If he'd been born resembling his mother over his real father, nobody would've questioned his parentage nor brought insult to his mother and brother. He'd spent so many years fighting to prove himself to everyone around him that he was Targaryen, that he was meant to be Crown Prince. Everything would've proved much easier if he and Luke had been born with those striking violet eyes and silver locks.

"I hope you're settling in well," Sara's gentle voice pulled him of out his thoughts. She glanced toward what'd captivated his attention moments prior, the corners of her mouth lifting knowingly. His skin warmed, though he couldn't pinpoint the reason why. "I know my brother and (Y/N) can seem... standoffish. They were both raised to be guarded and suspicious, but I can assure you, once they've grown used to you they'll be kinder." 

"I cannot fault them for their hesitance in welcoming me. I am the bearer of bad news; a symbol of war after so many years of peace." Jace straightened his shoulders and posture, clasping his hands behind his back as he spoke. He needed to be seen as princely as possible, needed to be someone worth paying attention to. "Lord Cregan's support would mean everything to us."

Her eyes crinkled and her head tilted to the side. There was a warmness to her presence that eased Jace into relaxation. "I could help you convince my brother as he does seek out my advice but (Y/N) is our master-at-arms and the one who trained many of our warriors in the past few years. He will need as much convincing as Cregan. The Starks have never broken an oath but it is better to have a willing commander over one who feels forced." 

"I agree." Jace nodded, his eyes flickering back down toward the figure below, hearing the muffled groan that escaped the knight when a squire slipped and fell. "And... how would you suggest someone goes about that? He hardly seemed keen on showing me around." Was keen the right word? Ser (Y/N) had seemed outright distraught at the idea. 

"How would you go about taming a bear?" The light, almost teasing tone in Sara's voice made him chuckle softly. "Cregan would know all about that, it seems. (Y/N) came here to Winterfell as a ward under our father many years ago. He and Cregan had been at odds then, bickering and fighting but under all that was the beginning of love."

"What of Lady Arra?" Jace asked. He'd heard how her death had brought much pain to Lord Cregan, how he'd mourned her for many months. Sara sighed softly at the mention and Jace winced, hoping he hadn't overstepped by asking.

"Cregan loved her as much as he loves (Y/N)," Sara told him softly, the glint in her eyes turning distant, her mind drifting back to the past. "Cregan was captivated by both of them, I remember. I was a child, hardly old enough to understand what was so charming about love, but even then I knew he cared for them both, even if (Y/N) occasionally brought out the worst in him. Arra forced them to become friends, for her sake, since she cared for them both. In the end, she brought them together both in life and death."

A comfortable silence settled over them, one that made Jace's thoughts flicker back to Baela. He cared for her, he had since they were mere children, but was it like the love between his father and Ser Qarl? The love between Ser (Y/N) and Lord Cregan? He hadn't minded when his mother announced her intent to marry them. He preferred an old friend over a stranger, and he certainly wouldn't mind having children with someone as passionate and caring as Baela. He believed he'd grow to love her, as many arranged couples eventually did, but what if his love for her remained... friendly?

"There'll be a feast in your honor later this evening. The boys should be in better moods by then." The boys. Jace almost snorted, his lips rolling into his mouth to prevent the noise. He wondered how long it took for little Sara to begin bossing them around, the image of her lecturing them as a child floating around in his mind.

"I look forward to learning more of the North." Jace smiled. 

Sara returned it, though it held a hint of both mischief and pity. "And I hope you're a heavy sleeper, My Prince." 

When dusk fell, the feast began with all kinds of lords, knights, ladies, and squires filling the Great Hall. A proper welcome to the North, if Jace had to admit, finding ale in his hand and delicious food on his plate that he happily ate. He spoke with those around him, his chest brimming with pride and relief whenever he enticed a hearty laugh from a northerner with a jest or a tale. They considered him a southerner, a boy prince who'd hardly fit in amongst the men who looked more like mountains and ladies who knew their way around axes. But with each laugh, grin, and approving nod, he cemented himself further amongst them. 

However, Lord Cregan and Ser (Y/N) paid him little mind, allowing the others around to keep him entertained. 

Jace watched them as he slowly ate some of his apple cake, the lovely flavor dancing on his tongue but his attention focused on the two despite the tale Russal, the castle's steward, recounted a tale of a hunt that had many leaning forward in anticipation. Jace had been among them until he'd caught sight of Ser (Y/N)'s vibrant and pleased grin at something his lover had said. 

He watched with softened eyes as a fussy Rickon finally ceased his whining once Ser (Y/N) took him into his arms, settling the boy on his leg and sparing the briefly distracted Lord Cregan a glance before he scooped some honey cake onto his spoon and offered it to the boy. Rickon wiggled with delight, his small hands grasping (Y/N)'s wrist as he eagerly ate, accidentally smearing frosting over his top lip and just below his nose. Lord Cregan turned back to them and arched a brow at the mess on his son's face, an amused smile stretching across his lips. 

"You know you mustn't have sweets before bed, Rickon." He gave his lover a knowing look, one that (Y/N) responded to with an innocent shrug. Rickon merely giggled and licked his lips, reaching for the spoon once more to lick it clean. He reminded Jace of Joffery, his little troublemaking brother who could sway anyone with just a few bats from his eyes and that toothy grin. Jace watched little Rickon, a longing for home forming in his heart once more. 

The table erupted in loud laughter that snapped Jace out of his thoughts, flickering his gaze toward Russal as the man drank some ale and took in the hearty laughs and cackles his story received. He smiled and chuckled, the laughter of northerners amusing by itself, and took another gulp of his ale. When his eyes slid back to the couple, he found Ser (Y/N) watching him and nearly choked on his ale, managing to cover up the coughs with wheezy chuckles. 

"Princeling," Ser (Y/N) pulled Rickon further against his chest so he could rest his chin on the boy's messy dark hair. The table largely quieted down, save for a few conversations here and there, most of the attention turning onto the prince and Ser (Y/N). Jace straightened his back instinctively with all eyes on him and gave him a nod to go on. "Tell us of dragons."

"Dagons!" Rickon cheered, drawing soft chuckles and coos from those around. 

"Well, uhm," Jace cleared his throat, his mind flickering back to all the lessons he'd received through the years, primarily on the histories of his family. "There are different tales on how dragons came to be. Those who came from Old Valryia claim dragons came from the Fourteen Flames but there are tales that dragons were brought forth through blood magic used on wyverns. Regardless, Valyrians tamed and rode them. It was said Valyrians themselves were descendants of the beasts and were kin with those they rode. Many believe a dragon will accept anyone of Valyrian blood but it is simply not true. A rider does not choose its dragon, the dragon chooses its rider. They will not allow anyone else to ride them for as long as their rider lives and breathes."

"Your dragon chose you, then? It looks quite young." Ser (Y/N) tilted his head. Jace wondered what tales were told in the North about dragons, about his family. Lord Alaric Stark had hosted King Jaehaerys Targaryen and Queen Alysanne Targaryen at Winterfell once many years prior, surely leaving a good enough impression for things to remain amiable between the families. Jace could only hope to leave the same impression.

"The tradition started by Rhaena Targaryen where eggs are placed in the cradle of Targaryen babes allows for a bond to form in youth. Vermax hatched in my cradle so we were raised together as... brothers, in a way. The bond between a dragonrider and their dragon runs deep. It is said a dragon may feel everything its rider feels. They may grow restless when their rider falls ill or is gravely injured." Jace couldn't help the burst of pride in his chest at the curiosity and intrigue in the eyes of those around him. Velaryon blood never ran through his veins but it hadn't made him any less of a Targaryen.

"Interesting." Ser (Y/N) said flatly, and the pride died a little. 

By the time night properly fell, the buzz in Jace's veins had been undeniable. Northerners liked their drinks strong, and Jace had never been one to back down when faced with challenging smirks and glints. Drinking their ale and beer had earned him many burning claps on his back and shoulders but as he stumbled through the halls and toward his bedchambers, he wondered if perhaps he should've paced himself. He almost tripped over his own foot and gave a soft giggle at his clumsiness before his eyes shifted to the streak of light pouring from a cracked open door. Against his better judgment, he approached it like a moth to a flame and raised his head to peek into the room.

"Byran thinks we ought to do a hunt soon. The hounds have grown restless, says they could use the exercise." He found Ser (Y/N) first, the many layers of clothing he'd once worn gone, leaving him in loose beige-colored sleepwear. The knight tilted his head up toward his lover, the warm candlelight and peaceful look on his face chipping away at the slight fear that'd gripped Jace's gut when he'd first seen him. 

"Aye," Lord Cregan responded, and Jace's face warmed when he raked his gaze over his muscular back and strong-looking arms, a shirt pinched in his hands before the lord tossed it aside. His chest and pudgy stomach were covered in dark hairs, ones that Jace tracked until they disappeared beneath his pants. "We could take the princeling, then. Show him how the North works."

"And how does the North work, love?" Jace's veins bubbled when he heard Ser (Y/N)'s light laughter, when he watched Lord Cregan take a seat at the edge of the bed while Ser (Y/N) slid up behind him. His fingers dipped into Lord Cregan's hair, brushing and pulling back his dark strands gently, a gentleness he hadn't given those he'd been training. Ser (Y/N) tied his lover's hair back into a bun, some shorter strands slipping out and framing Lord Cregan's face. 

"The North is... full of surprises." The older man murmured, tilting his head back and ghosting his lips over Ser (Y/N)'s cheek as the knight's arms wrapped around his broad shoulders. When their lips connected, Jace's stomach flipped with a new feeling of longing, surprised by the warmth and sweetness of the kiss. 

Lord Cregan's body tiled and his arm moved, sliding around his lover's waist and dragging him onto his lap. Laughter and giggles freely fell from Ser (Y/N)'s lips, a wide smile on his face as he settled happily across Lord Cregan's thighs. They stared at each other, lips curled upward and eyes crinkled with delight before Lord Cregan pressed a kiss to Ser (Y/N)'s forehead and murmured something in his ear. When Lord Cregan's hand dipped into the knight's pants, Jace jerked back, a violent heat darting up his spine and spreading through his veins. 

Despite his drunken mind, he staggered away from the door and toward his bedchambers, tossing the door open and slamming it shut behind him. His back pressed against the wood when his legs grew too wobbly to keep him up without help, a shaky exhale escaping him. It was hard to pinpoint what swirled around so violently in his stomach; too many emotions threatening to swallow him whole in a single gulp. He felt them prickling along his back. 

Desire, want, longing, mortification, embarrassment. 

He was the Crown Prince, Seven Hells! It was entirely unprincely to act no better than a peeping tom, even if the coils around his stomach and heart yearned to be under such an adoring gaze and needy hands. Jace groaned and brought a hand to his face, pushing himself off the door and stumbling toward the blanket and fur covered bed where he collapsed. He buried his face into one of the furs, feeling the soft strands brush against his skin soothingly. He prayed they hadn't taken notice, hadn't realized he'd been watching. 

He was a guest in their home. A temporary guest who'd leave once he ensured he'd secured the North's loyalty and support... even if he had to withhold from indulging in his growing curiosity.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Snow Angel

Jacaerys' Version

I'll angel in the snow until I'm worthy but if it kills me, I tried.

Gwyane's Version ❄ Daemon's Version ❄ Aegon's Version ❄ Aemond's Version ❄ Jacaerys' Version ❄ Cregan's Version ❄ Criston's Version

Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!Reader | 800< | cw: fem!reader, targcest, reader is aemond's twin, angst, violence, blood, war, death, typos, etc.

A/N: renee rapp my beloved. jacaerys and aemond's version go hand in hand

You remember talking about running away with Jace when you were kids. You told him about your plans to pack your dresses, flee on your dragon, and live off lemon cakes. You cried when he laughed at you and swore never to speak to him again.

But then he did what he did best and cast your worries away. He panicked, unintending to cause you sadness, then made a fool of himself until he got you to smile. And when you did, he promised to himself never to make you cry again.

"Why do you want to run away anyway?" Jacaerys asks after you were calmer, finding a place beside you on the grass on which you sat.

You wipe your nose on your sleeve and give him a look, "is it really not obvious?"

He grows a bit nervous. He internally denies it's because he's made you cry.

"You like teasing Aemond," you turn to your shoes, "Aemond likes teasing me-"

"He does?"

You turn back to him.

"Then I will fight him for it."

"But that's the problem Jace!" you feel your lips quiver, "it's all so horrid. I don't like how you fight," you pull on the grass, "I don't like how he fights me. I don't like fighting."

For a moment, Jacaerys feels guilty. He regrets arguing with Aemond... but then again, he deserved it.

"I don't understand," you speak quietly, "we're twins. I am his half and he is mine. We shared the same womb and yet he acts like we share nothing in common..." your voice becomes shaky, "why does he dislike me so?"

Gods, he so deserved it.

You muse to him about other things your wretched twin brother has done to you, and this becomes your ritual. Every time you are together, you vent to him, and he listens. But one day, his family leaves King's Landing and, again, he does the thing he's promised he'd never do: he made you cry.

He writes to you every week after leaving. He tells you how much he misses you. He tells you how much he misses your laugh, your bad jests, even your dolls, and how Vermax was lonely without your dragon to fly with.

And so one day, in your reply, you ask to fly with him in secret. You ask to meetup somewhere no one would think to look for either of you, then you spend the day enjoying each other's company. None would know about your whereabouts but each other.

But then your family fractured, there was them and there was you, and you found each other opposite sides. One day, you simply could not take it, so you wrote to him: meet me in our secret place.

In truth, you did not expect him to show, but when he did, you were relieved to see him... until he opened his mouth.

"What do you want from me, Aunt?" Jacaerys spoke.

You knit your brows, "what?"

"Have you come to surrender? To pledge yourself to the one true Queen?"

You shake your head in disbelief of what you were hearing. You walk towards him, "Jace, I-"

"She will accept you," he says, "she will accept all of you. You need just bend the-"

"Run away with me," you press your hand to his chest.

He stares at you, nostrils flaring, line forming between his brows.

You rapidly shake your head, "you know that's all I've ever wanted. To be done and rid of this bother."

Jacaerys takes your hand and whispers your name, "you know it is not that simple."

"We can make it simple. Let us ride off and-"

"You have a duty to your family, as do I."

"And what of the duty to our hearts?" you clutch his hand. His jaw clenches. You mutter, "there is no greater duty than fulfilling that of what's borne from love."

He does not respond to you. Your eyes search his. Your grip tightens. He releases you. Soon he's breaking his promise all over again. Tears spill over as you pull away from him, "am I not worthy enough of even this?"

He calls your name as you step back. Before he can speak, his attention is taken by the sky and the loud sound of flapping dragon wings. It was unmistakably Vhagar.

You are unable to keep him from riding off and facing the gargantuan. You look up and watch your brother unleash his fury upon him. You knew better than to get in the way, but you would not have Jacaerys killed when you were the one who called him here in the first place.

You get on your mount and do your best to catch Aemond's attention. You scream and shout but to no avail, not until your dragon knocks into the tail of your twin's.

You did not expect him to be so angry. You did not expect him to attack you. You could do nothing as you watched your dragon choke in the maw of your brother's ride. The sound of your own screams deafen you, and so you hear not the sound of him screaming out your name.

And as you descend from the height, Jacaerys is mortified. He commands Vermax to catch you, and he tries his best, but even his best was not enough to save you from your end.

[annwrites]

⸻ a call to arms. part nine. ⸻

· pairing: jacaerys velaryon x dragonseed!reader · type: part of a series · summary: with the war at its end, rhaenyra summons you to the red keep to choose your reward for your part in it. · tw: ptsd, war flashbacks, murder, fire · word count: 2,448

The people are screaming and great plumes of smoke rise into the sky, blocking out the sun. There is only darkness here.

Flames lick at the sides of sunken ships with sailors still trapped inside.

You can’t save them.

There is only one who you can.

The rest of them can burn.

“Jacaerys!”

You scream his name until your voice is hoarse, even it’s difficult to even try. The air here is unclean.

Everything is. Including you and the beast you ride and commit unspeakable acts upon the back of.

It reeks of the stench of burning, boiling flesh upon this stretch of sea now.

Your fault.

That is your fault.

You’d seen Vermax fall from the sky and Jace with him. And then you had snapped.

You’d unleashed Silverwing upon the enemy without reservation. Had burned ship after ship which blocked the Gullet, screaming in your grief with bared teeth like a venomous serpent looking to swallow its prey whole.

Your lover, your prince, the young man who now holds your heart has disappeared from sight.

But you know his soul has not gone quiet yet; you can still feel him within you. Buried inside of you.

Such a familiar feeling it is to you now.

One you’ll never forget for as long as you live. You pray to the Gods for as much, at least.

You know they won’t forgive you for what you’ve done here, but you plead for them not to punish him for your transgressions.

“Jacaerys!”

A scorpion bolt launches in your direction and your dragon swoops low, easily dodging it.

And the fire in your belly only grows at them trying to take you down, too.

No one here is safe. Not anymore after harming him. After killing a part of him: his dragon.

“Dracarys!” You screech , and Silverwing opens her maw and a funnel of fire shoots forth, charring the scorpion, as well as those manning it.

She doesn’t stop until the entire ship is turned into a mass of charcoal.

Tears slip down your cheeks as you begin to fear that you’ve gone mad.

You’d had something else to live for, but in this moment… In this moment, all you can think of is him. Nothing else matters. Not anymore.

“Jacaerys!”

Suddenly, Silverwing dives and dives without your command, and you don’t try to stop her, because that same draw she’s following toward something unknown, you feel it, too. Trust it. Trust her.

And then you see him clinging to the side of a ship and you could cry and shout from the relief of the sight of him.

But something is wrong.

Something is pinning him to it.

One of those same bolts that your dragon had so easily dodged is lodged firmly in Jace’s left leg, which is turned in the wrong direction.

Bile rises in your throat at what they’ve done to your beloved.

“Jacaerys!”

His head slowly rises and curls full of ash fall over his glazed-over eyes as he stares up at you.

Your dragon dives lower, her feet hanging over dark water as she flaps her wings slowly—only fast enough to keep her afloat.

You strain, reaching out a hand toward him.

“Please!” You shout with tears brimming in your eyes.

He blinks up at you and you know he’s far away within his mind. Perhaps infection is already spreading through his blood.

You won’t let him die like this.

You won’t.

You can’t.

“My sweet boy, please! My love, take my hand!”

Silverwing roars and Jace begins to reach toward you.

“Mama.”

Your brows furrow as you stare at his lips.

The words leaving them are not in his voice.

This isn’t how it happened.

“Mama.”

No, this is all wrong. This isn’t—

“Mama, wake up!”

When your eyes open, you find yourself safe within your bed, but drenched in sweat as little Maisily leans over you with a concerned look upon her young face.

“Mama,” she says, pressing her palm to your damp cheek. “Another nightmare.”

You nod slowly and wrap your arms around her, before pulling her against your breast. “I’m sorry if I woke you, my love.”

She snuggles against you.

“You have to go to the castle today,” she says quietly.

You nod while cupping the back of her head and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I know.”

“But I can’t come,” she says with a pout.

Your lip twitches. “Not today, I fear. I’m sorry, little one.”

There’s a soft knock on your bedroom door then and your eyes flit to it.

“Come in.”

The door slowly opens and your mother steps inside with a smile on her lips, if not a near-distant look in her eyes.

You understand her better now, you think.

Though, you’re admittedly not the same. She’s not a murderer. It’s not her own unspeakable acts which haunt her, but instead the death of the man she loved.

At least you do not share in that.

Alike in some ways you are, different in others.

You’re grateful that Maisily did not actually come from you, then. For you are a monster. And she is pure.

“Today is the big day,” she says softly. “Do you want to rehearse your list again?”

You sit up slowly while Maisily curls around your lap, burying her face in your stomach.

“A proper home, which I know is already being arranged anyway. Nevertheless, I will mention it. And the surety that you and Maisily will never go without again. That you’ll never want for anything,” you say, running your fingers through your little girl’s curls.

Your mother steps closer inside and wraps her shawl more tightly around herself.

“It would do you well to insist upon something for yourself,” she states, seating herself beside you.

You shake your head. “All I want is to know that both of you will be looked after for the rest of your days. That’s all I ever wanted since the beginning. And now I’m sure we’ll have that.”

She nods slowly. “I don’t imagine the queen telling you no in anything after saving the life of her son.”

Maisily sits up then and wraps her arms around your neck.

You smooth the wild curls at the back of her head.

You merely hum in agreement.

You stand silent and only your eyes roam about the room you now stand in.

All you can think about is the swords. There are so many of them.

You wonder how Aegon and his sisters were able to do it: kill thousands without remorse. With pride. With conviction.

Your body twitches and you fight the feeling to run screaming from this room in a panic down.

You need only get through this audience and then you can go home.

And then you hear it.

Click.

Click.

Click.

You remain facing forward, even if it takes all your strength not to turn and look. To watch him. Rather, see him.

The last time you did, he’d barely known who you were, he was so heavily under the influence of milk of the poppy to dull his pain as maesters tended to his ruined leg.

And then he passes you, his betrothed following closely behind.

You swallow down the lump in your throat at the sight of his polished wooden cane and the new limp to his gait.

If you had gotten to him sooner, then maybe…

You tell yourself that you did the best you could. That he may not be here at all, were it not for you.

You feel like a failure anyway.

Next is the young princes, following closely behind their brother: Joffrey, Viserys, and Aegon.

Poor Stormcloud died upon the steps of Dragonstone and Viserys’ dragon egg will forever be lost at sea. But he’s young enough that you’re sure he’ll be given another to replace it.

If Silverwing produces any clutches herself, you will offer one up to him—whichever egg he’d like.

And then the queen enters the room and all bow to her in reverence, including you.

She takes her throne and gestures that you all should rise.

Your eyes flit nervously to Jace and tears sting them at his refusal to so much as glance in your direction.

You need to accept it: that whatever it was that the two of you had—rather, what you thought you’d had—is as dead as his dragon.

As dead as your soul.

You’d been right about him from the beginning: he used you for his own purposes and has now chosen to dispose of you like waste.

You turn to the queen, knowing it matters not. You’re here for your family. And once you’ve claimed your reward for your part in the war, you’ll never see one another again.

He will go on to marry Baela and produce heirs and take the throne when the time comes. And you will long be forgotten to him.

You know not if you want for him to be to you one day.

The wounds of war you bear will never heal.

They will instead leave you twisted and broken, much like his damaged limb.

“I know little of where to start, Y/N,” the queen begins, adding a gentle, thankful smile. “Without your efforts—your part in this war—my son and heir would not be standing here with us today. Without you and my other dragonseeds, Spicetown would exist only in memory.”

You force a smile and wipe your sweaty palms against the skirt of your dress. “For the latter, we have you to thank as well, Your Grace.”

It’s true.

After you returned the injured Jacaerys to Dragonstone, Rhaenyra went near-mad with anger at the sight of her son so close to crossing the veil that shields you all from the realm of the Gods.

And so all mounted up, including her, to go and defend Spicetown.

She’d been a grand thing to behold on the back of Syrax as she served alongside you and Addam and Daemon and Hugh and more as you defended the town’s people.

Lives, homes, and shops were lost, but from what you understand, she has reallocated funds to aid in rebuilding.

The people praise her for it.

You think it is much deserved.

She bows her head slightly. “Thank you. Nevertheless, we are not here to discuss my good deeds, but instead yours, and the reward you would claim for them. For risking your life for us at the Gullet and at Spicetown. So, tell me, My Lady—for I intend to dub you as thee as well—what do you desire?”

You swallow thickly. You are to be titled now? Something you had certainly not expected… You feel yourself undeserving, but do not say this.

Her decision is made in that already.

You shift on your feet and glance quickly to Jace, who stares up at his mother, and then back to the woman in question.

“I know you assured me on Dragonstone, after the Gullet, that if we survived this war, you would provide my family and I with proper housing more substantial than what we now live in.”

She nods. “I did. I would offer you a place here, if it please you.”

Your eyes grow wide.

No.

You can’t have that.

Cannot be near, yet so far from him.

Cannot be near the reminders of this war.

“I…thank you for the offer, Your Grace. But my family and I… We wish for solitude. After…”

You glance down nervously, trying to gather yourself, ignoring the way your hands twitch and your stomach churns, making you feel nauseous. “I merely want peace. Quiet. To be left alone. I can’t…”

She interrupts, so as to lift the burden from you of trying to explain that which words have no use for. “I had anticipated you may decline. As such, there is housing just off of Rhaenys’ Hill I’ve had prepared for you. Just incase. It will be furnished and tended to however you like, to best suit you and your family. Any work you need done, I will have personally saw to.”

Your chin wobbles. “Thank—”

Your voice breaks and she merely nods her head that you needn’t say more.

“Is there nothing more I can do for you?” She presses.

You take a moment to gather yourself. “My mother. She… After my father passed, she has not been the same. To have servants to tend to and look after her—”

“Consider it done. She will want for naught and will have whatever care she requires. That burden is no longer yours to bear from this day forward.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and begin to weep, but know you must press forward for one last thing. “Maisily. My little sister. P-proper schooling. Perhaps a septa, so she might be raised correctly.”

Rhaenyra smiles. “And a septa she will have for all her lessons. And, as she grows older, if she takes other interests, say in music, or the arts, she will have tutors to guide her along in that as well.”

You bite your lower lip and nod.

Rhaenyra shifts and cradles her chin between her fingers. “Would you ask for nothing for yourself, then? Your family will be tended to for as long as my line reigns. Including your sister’s children and so forth. But what of you, My Lady?”

You shrug slightly. “That was all I wanted: to know they’ll be taken care of. And thanks to you, Your Grace, they will be.”

She gives you a warm smile of understanding. “For anything else you might need, I want you not to hesitate to request an audience with me, or to correspond by raven. You have my undying gratitude for your service to me and my cause during this war. The crown thanks you deeply.”

You bow your head. “Thank you, Your Grace, for everything. You have my family’s thanks as well.”

You lift your head and take one last look at Jace, and that is when your eyes finally meet.

It may last for only moment—you gazing into familiar orbs of brown while he looks back at you with a look of indifference, which officially shatters your heart for good—but it simultaneously feels like an eternity…and not long enough at all.

He looks away, as do you as you turn and leave the Keep for what you hope is the first and last time, never to see him again.

You wonder for the briefest of moments if you ever truly knew him at all.

You bury that grief inside of you of losing someone you love yet again, and go home to those you still have.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Painful ink words and snowflakes

Cregan x Jacaerys

warning : be/become in love (implied love at first sight), fluff, comfort, angst, emotional, kiss

Summary : The high wide cold north a realm where Jacaerys first flew on his dragon Vermax. The cold had always fascinated him when surrounded only by fire, warmth and no cold snow and ice. Gray eyes meet beautiful darkness and dark eyes meet the gray pretty sky. A young lord and a young prince together in the north find themselves in pain and care as a raven arrives with painful inky words and snowflakes meet tears.

Info : Episode one was a rollercoaster of emotions and I need more of these two so cute and hot but most of all so ahhh. So I hope I don't make the first episode even more painful here and have fun reading ;)

masterlist

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

The north lay high above King's Landing. It was a great land, the greatest that not only served under the House of Stark. A house as old as the house of Targaryen, the dragon and the direwolf, two houses that had always seemed to have an alliance.

A bond that became even stronger after the death of Visery. A time in which two princes of the realm rose up from Dragonstone, sent by Queen Rhaenyra, to reestablish not only allies but also old alliances.

In a war you needed every man you could get and while her younger son his beloved brother Lucerys Velaryon was sent to Storms End to join the Baratheon who had a connection to the Queen through Rhaenyra, he Jacaerys the eldest son and heir to the Throne of Black was sent to the far north.

The warm clothes he had barely worn in his life, clothes he had still found too warm in King's Landing and had joked with Vermax, ,,I will become a dragon in the warmth," to which his mount replied with a snort and swift flight to cool his riders.

But soon a few hours later, as the sea receded and they crossed fields and paths and valleys, he saw the land becoming more and more barren, barren farms and villages with lights and snow. White snow.

A thing of nature snow was something he had only really experienced once the short winter in King's Landing short winters are good but he found it fascinating even then.

He would help his mother, honor his family and end this dispute. It took a few moments before the inhabitants of the north also saw the prince of the realm and looked up into the sky, excited and slightly frightened. Jace circled the magnificent castle before carefully landing his dragon in the large courtyard, which still seemed a little unusual for the greenish dragon.

He had always been surrounded by warmth since he was born, warmth from fire, from love and from dragons…so he was even more fascinated by the cold.

,,There it is Winterfell and our destination" he speaks with Vermax who understands his ancestors here were their common ancestors here the good Queen Alysanne with her dragon Silverwing a feeling of pride filled the prince.

Vermax looked around with orange eyes and seemed to be interested in the snowflakes that not only circled him, but Jace had to admit that he had never seen such big flakes dancing around him. It was beautiful. Just as beautiful and mesmerizing as the lord before him.

A man only a few years older than himself, a young lord in charge of a house and a wall fortress. A young man of rather and plfihct as he bowed dressed in black with the Valyrian steel weapon ice on his back as Jace did the same.

,,It's nice to finally meet you my prince" came from the elder's lips and he held out his gloved hand which the prince took more hastily than he intended ,,It's an honor to be here in your seat Winterfell you'd think it was an old tradition" Jace said for the first time seeming unsure if he was saying the right thing but those greyish eyes like the cloudy sky he loved to fly through was something that captured him.

The brown hair slightly lighter than his, the face strong, the body seemingly hardened and barely concerned with winter as if he were a direwolf himself. But that smile, that smile of understanding as he pulled Jace close for just a moment, not a real hug, perhaps more of a coming closer as their eyes met.

The dragon met the direwolf and felt small, intimidated and yet…drawn. ,,It is an old tradition and honor indeed my Prince please follow me" he said and walked towards the inside while the prince walked next to him, the younger's gaze just too fixated on the older and Winterfell.

This coolness seemed like something completely different. Not warm, but all the more inviting. ,,I should have visited the north much earlier it's so different from King's Landing or Dragonstone" he said as they arrived in the great hall he looked inside and yet even though they were seated inside it seemed cool rather than warm.

He had turned away from Cregan and looked around slightly, seeming completely fascinated, not seeing the look of admiration on Cregan's face as he scrutinized him. The direwolf looked to see if he could trust the stranger to let him into his pack territory.

His brown eyes are as pretty as the dark starry nights in the woods the lord thought and couldn't stop the smile on his lips, a smile that only showed for a moment, a smile that disappeared when he saw the stranger. A sword at the prince's side let him know why they were here, what was going on out there towards the south and even if the creatures of winter were behind the walls he could probably only fight two wars badly.

,,I'm glad my Prince that you like it so much…not everyone finds beauty in something like this," Cregan said and gestured towards the corridor to go to his personal consultation room, interrupting his ally's exploration who nodded at him, slightly puzzled and then with a stern face, ,,Of course, Lord Stark" came from his lips before he followed the brown-haired man.

The two young men stay in the room for a few hours until the afternoon. They took off their heavy coats of fur and thick fabric because of the warmth that seemed to bother them both.

Their bodies bent over the table, the chairs barely used, too eager to look at the maps, papers and plans they all revealed. The supplies, the men, the weapons and the strength, ,,You see my prince it is not very much but for the rightful queen we give all we can" he said and signed some papers on which the goods and men would have been fixed while Jace secured back the support of men to strengthen the wall and help the north through winter which they always needed.

Winter is coming.

Winter always comes after the hot fiery summer is gone. But Jace knew he could count on Cregan, the look that sirchiet gave him was sincere and honest, ,,For this the Crown and I are eternally grateful to you Lord Cregan," he replied, his smile meeting the elder's as they looked at each other for a moment in silence.

The brown met the gray and vice versa as they faced each other and Jace faded from the gray Freely infinitely beautiful as the sky he seems to be utterly alluring thought the prince and heir to the throne of the realm.

But this momet passed, this breath of cold and fire passed and they decided to go to the wall and put on their cloaks and capes it almost seemed more intimate as they put on their clothes.

A thought that made his cheeks flush and Jace tried to cover it slightly with his curly hair…but Cregan had seen it with an equal thought. The two were silent as they walked side by side, the wooden box of the elevator swaying meters above them, ,,Are you sure you don't want me to take my dragon, my lord?" Jace asked, scowling as he heard the shaking and scraping as the wood was lowered.

But Cregan grinned and placed a hand on the prince's shoulder and squeezed it lightly, ,,Even Queen Alysanne and her dragon only came to the wall not the wall I assure you nothing will happen…and please if you like call me Cregan" an offer Jacaerys accepted with a nervous yet drawn out smile before he placed his hand on his shoulder as well and said, ,,Jace will do…Cregan".

The elevator up Jace felt the height didn't bother him it was the uncertainty that it wasn't a dragon that lifted him into the air. The height and the coolness that surrounded him was familiar and beloved, but this wobble and backlash was reminiscent of their first flights with Vermax when they were both barely practiced.

,,Is flying a dragon less shaky? You looked as graceful as the queen back then," Cregan said with a hint of amusement in his voice and moved a little closer to Jace, seeing surprise in the dark eyes before he heard the short hearty laugh.

A laugh that infected Cregan and they enjoyed the moment of bliss as the wint blew around their strands and they exchanged glances again as they reached the top. Duty entered their eyes as they walked past the men.

Duty and honor they both had and goodness they knew what was at stake and they would stand behind it forever. Jace knew he had Cregan's strength on the ground and Cregan knew he had Jace's strength in the sky. It was a knowledge of each other's worth as they arrived at the small observation deck.

The wind around Jacaery's hair played loose and Cregan could feel it wanting to run through the dark curls, wanting to keep Jace here longer, wanting to show him so much more. ,,The winter and your north is beautiful my Lord Cregan," Jace said, looking out over the endless expanse of ice and snow and he clung to the wooden railing held by the best ice, rope and metal.

,,Infinitely wide and wondrous with bright stars in the sky, dark impressive expanses and yet…at night death," the older man said and looked from the view to Jace who turned to him, he had only heard in books about the danger beyond the wall but whether it was real. He saw how Cregan was probably reminded of this something but was at least intimidated by it.

Jace stepped closer to him and placed his hand on Cregan's, ,,I'll light your night with Vermax Cregan, no harm will come to you. Not tonight, not in the war, never, I promise," he promised the older man and was about to step closer when footsteps interrupted them, ,,A raven from Dragonstone has delivered a message, my lord," were words that made them both pause. Jace looked at Cregan as he unfurled the note of duty that had come back to them both.

Words written in dark ink the second prince of the realm Lucerys Velaryon killed while performing his duties. They were words in ink that gave Cregan a jolt of realization that their abrogation would come into effect sooner than he thought, that he would lose Jace sooner than he would have liked, and that he would have to tell his dragon prince what had happened. His gray eyes full of seriousness looked into the uncertain dark eyes of Jace who waited unthinkingly for the answer.

It was still the hope that this horrible act of reality had not happened but Cregan just shook his head and handed the note to Jace placing a hand on his shoulder, ,,My condolences I'm sorry my prince…Jace" were the words that left the Starks lips as he saw the horrible realization in the dark eyes. As he saw something break inside the prince as if a piece of him had been torn out.

He saw the glimmer of tears come into the prince's eyes as he turned his gaze with an appathetic nod and blink to Cregan, then to the letter and then to the snow. ,,Yes-I thank Cr-Lord Stark…I'd like to be alone-I have to get back," came from Jace, who broke away from the older man and ran slowly, then ran to a platform on which several crates were stacked.

If he jumped it would be the end, he would lose Jace even more than he already had, a fear that immediately gripped the older man. ,,My prince! Jace!" he shouted the name as he saw the brown-haired man mumble something too quietly for him to understand before he threw himself down, his own startled cry piercing the cold, silent north and his hand reaching for the younger one.

He didn't want to lose the one to whose heart his was beating the same. ,,Jace! Wait, come back!" he shouted in anguish and fear as he saw the prince on Vermax clinging to the saddle and seemingly about to fly away in his current state, a distance back in an emotional state that could lead him to suicide.

But the brown-haired boy flew away with Vermax but not towards Dragonstone relieved in the heart of the north dweller who saw the green dragon scream out cries of pain and fear and seem to disappear behind hills in the neighboring forest.

,,Get my horse ready now!" the young lord shouted and hurried into the elevator that was being lowered as fast as he could, his fingers drumming on the wood for fear of what Jace would do. The loss of a brother, a blood relative, a loss that must be more painful than any battle wound.

As soon as the wood reached the ground, he sprinted out to the servant who was already holding his horse, ,,Keep guarding everything until I get back," he said before telling the animal to gallop off towards the forest. The forest in front of him was only a few minutes away, but due to the density of the forest it was difficult to find anything.

But finding a dragon shouldn't be difficult, ,,Faster, come on boy," he instructed his horse, pushing a little harder to the side and was glad that he came to the wooded, uncertain ground as they jumped over tree trunks, he ducked under branches and the roots didn't break the horse's hooves. He shouted the prince's name, he shouted the younger one's name, he saw nothing next to the brown and white that indicated Jace's frustration and fear.

They had only known each other for less than a day and yet something seemed to connect them, not age, not royal blood…it seemed stronger. ,,Jace! Jace where are you!" he matured again and rode on, trying to find his way through the forest that could look no more than the dark eyes he was lost in until he saw a movement in the corner of his eye.

Pulling on the reins, his horse came to a sudden stop, ,,The dragon," the lord muttered, seeing the slightly lighter scales than the single trunks and the looming orange eye, ,,Jace, it's Cregan!" he shouted, slowly coming closer with his horse. He suspected that Vermax would not attack him but creatures of such power who knew?

Slowly dismounting not letting the beast out of his sight his horse bucked however and he let go of the reins knowing it would find its way back on its own if it had to as he strode on. With a whistle his mount would have come back without him he had important things to do.

Even if he just got to the ice he wouldn't stand a chance but he didn't have to because he saw that the dragon had wrapped its wings and tail around something as if it wanted to shield something or rather someone. ,,Jace?" he asked more calmly and empathetically and now stood next to the dragon that radiated a warmth that resembled spring or summer, a strange feeling, but it was a warmth that somehow always surrounded Jace.

He heard several heavy breaths and was afraid that the prince had fallen off the dragon and was injured, but these were followed by cries and a broken, ,,I'm fine…Cregan just go…please me," he heard the broken voice and placed his hand carefully on the green dragon's wing.

Vermax seemed to look at him, his orange eyes looking at him for a moment before he lifted the wing and let Cregan into the safe space where Jace was sitting. He looked down at the ground, his knees drawn up, the sword with splinters of wood next to him and a face lying in his hands.

Wordlessly, he sat down beside him close enough for the brown-haired man to lean on if he wanted to, if he wanted to soothe the pain of hot tears with cold. He let him cry, let him scream and mumble incoherent words, let him come close to him in his arms and detach himself.

,,Let it out Jace…let the pain and the thoughts out it hurts I know my dear prince…just let it happen for this moment" he said and almost fell over when Jace suddenly threw himself against him, chin on his shoulder and just held him, crying silent tears and Cregan, Cregan held him, stroked his back and held him. Again and again Jacaerys seemed to want to mumble something about what he could have done, his fault and the war.

But everything was interrupted by crying while thick, cold snowflakes slowly flew down on them. ,,Snowflakes freeze feelings for a moment Jace look up let yourself be lulled before you travel to the queen" Cregan murmured only hugging him closer yet feeling the brown eyes look up the fast beating heart calm down a little and the sniffling stop.

Instead, it was the prince's tears that were frozen by the snow and the kiss on his head, brief yet effective, that helped the young prince's tears to stop, or at least to hold back until he was in the warmth of Dragonstone in his mother's arms.

,,No matter what happens Jace in the snow and in the cold feelings are waiting for you…I am waiting for you and always will. Fly as fast as you can the war will break out do you understand? Fly and help the queen my prince Jace" were Cregan's words as he rose and pulled Jace to his feet, the prince still looking up at the sky and only now his dark eyes into the gray eyes that were indeed covered with a gleam of sorrow and fear. Jace looked at him for a moment before he nodded wordlessly,

,,Yes-yes I will come back Cregan I must leave…the flame in my heart was waiting for the next meeting" he murmured still slightly in shock but with sincerity as he placed a hand on the older man's cheek and Cregan did the same, wiping away the last of his tears.

,,Fly my prince, hurry up I'll always be here for you!" he called after the prince who had taken to the skies with Vermax to look at them both one last time before Jacaerys disappeared into the gray clouds on the green dragon Vermax and Cregan remained on the ground surrounded by dark trees.

But the next meeting was sure to come when the direwolf and the dragon met again and could lie in each other's arms under different circumstances with affection, understanding or perhaps even love.

[visionsofcarnality]

Devil In Your Eye.

aka: Ptolemaea pt.2/???

A flashback to what happened before the Battle of Rook’s Rest and what inspired Alysanne’s rage at her former beloved and how the war has affected her personally. The scenes depicted take place before Ptolemaea and the flashback at the end is from when Alysanne and Aemond were a year or two younger than in present.

a/n: The original concept for this came from @ellijg who dmed me this concept and i added my own little details to it. The original concept was Daemon and Rhaenyra’s daughter was best friends with Aemond during childhood and the daughter was at Rook’s Rest which triggered Aemond to think about when he killed her brother Lucerys. Obviously spoilers for both Fire and Blood and HOTD 201-204 are below. This short story deals with violence, grief, betrayal, and more than one stabbing, as well as arranged marriage, sibling loss, war, dragons, and a whole lot of angst.

“I’ll be the devil in your eye / If it’s what you need to heal. I’ll be the devil in your eye / if it’ll change the way you feel.”

The Wall was bigger than she'd imagined.

That was the only thought that crossed Alysanne's mind when they first saw the faint blue hue of the ice on the horizon. Silverwing chittered nervously at the sight, rolling her head from side to side like a dog scattering droplets after a bath.

"Ry iksos syrī, dōna hāedar." She soothed over the wind, eyes tracing the lines of ice up and into the sky as they flew closer and closer. Vermax let a cry of greeting ring over the air, and vague shouts of 'dragons' could be heard even from their distance.

(All is well, sweet girl.)

They landed with little ceremony near the base of the Wall, Silverwing still bucking her head occasionally in visible discomfort at seeing the Wall once more. No amount of soothing could completely settle the large she dragon. Even Vermax shuffled closer to the bigger beast like he was closing ranks.

Jacaerys paid them no mind as he pulled his cloak tighter around his narrow shoulders, squinting his eyes to look at her through the still-flurrying snow. Kicked up under their dragon's feet.

"They don't like it here!" She shouted over the wind, drawing closer as they advanced towards the proud dark gate nestled into the towering ice.

"Dragons are made from fire, sister!" Jacaerys answered back, voice raised to match hers. "It is no wonder the ice unsettles them." Alysanne chewed her lip thoughtfully, turning her brother's words over in her head. Those thoughts were startled away by the screech of the old doors' hinges wailing to announce their arrival. Waiting inside was a small company of Northmen, three men in marbled gray cloaks of animal skin. All with dark hair and darker eyes, skin pale from the lack of sun in the North.

For half a moment she wondered which of them was the young Lord of Winterfell, until all three men dipped into bows at the waist, muttering greetings of "Prince" and "Princess". A welcoming party to take them to the Warden, then. Jacaerys took the lead, as Heir he was the apparent authority of their envoy, though Alysanne was both older and looked more like her mother.

It wasn't until they travelled deeper into the wall, carving through a small tunnel just inside the outer layer of ice towards one of the lifts, that she spotted Cregan Stark.

He looked much like how Rhaenyra had described his father, Rickon, the last Stark who ruled in Winterfell. With a square jaw, hair like a tree's bark, and a strong nose. He was fairly handsome, she admitted only to herself, especially when he offered them a cautious smile as they approached.

"Prince, Princess." He greeted amicably, bowing his head at the both of them in turn. "Welcome to the edge of our World."

"The North must stand ready," Cregan finished his speech stoically. "Winter is coming."

"Coming?" Jace looked around with false incredulity, "What is this, then? This that falls from the skies and shivers my bones?"

Alysanne did not smile at his jape, nor Cregan's explanation of a 'late summer snow'. Taking half a step forward from the two men she peered out beyond the edges of the thick ice, eyes squinted to see through the flurry around them.

"Princess!" She whirled at the sound, catching Cregan Stark eyeing her with mild concern. "I would indulge your curiosity on a better day but the wings are high, it would be bad manners to allow an envoy to topple from the Wall."

"Silverwing would catch me." She answered simply, but still took that half step back towards her brother and Cregan.

"Aye, she might, if you had fallen over the other side." Cregan pondered aloud. "I recall my grandfather's tales of our Good Queen Alysanne, and how her mount, the same you ride, refused to traverse over the wall despite her urging." He stepped closer to her, standing between her and Jace in a sort of diplomatic triangle, that he might speak to them at once. "It pleases me to think that over a century ago our ancestors treated in this very place." He smiled thoughtfully.

Alysanne nodded, looking over her shoulder back at the edge of the wall even as she spoke. "The Conqueror and the King in the North..."

Cregan laughed lightly, resting his hands on his sword belt much like Jace. "You, at least, had the mercy not to threaten me with your dragons."

"Not in a time of peace." Alysanne responded flatly, lifting her shoulders a bit to bring the edges of her cloak closer together over her front.

Jacaerys stepped in at that moment exactly. "Surely..." He began, smiling charismatically. "The great Torrhen Stark would've sooner died than bent the knee. Unless he believed the Conqueror could bring unity to the seven kingdoms."

"You are right in that." Cregan conceded, tossing a bit of stray hair out of his face as the wind continued to whip around them.

"The realm will soon tear itself apart if men do not remember their oaths sworn to the rightful heir of Westeros." Jace continued, and for a moment she saw a glimpse of the desperation he tried so hard to hide. Fear for their mother... And her throne.

Cregan gave him a diplomatic smile, one that barely changed the contours of his face. "Starks do not forget oaths, my prince." He assured. "But you must know that my gaze is forever torn between North and South." Alysanne sighed softly, barely audible over the wind. His argument was not without ground, but she knew what that tone meant. "In Winter my duty to the Wall is even more dire than the one that I owe to King's Landing." He was trying, she could tell... But it wasn't enough.

"Whilst your men guard against Wildlings and weather," Alysanne interjected, keeping her voice level to mask the urgency in her tone. "The Hightowers plan to usurp the throne. If our mother is to defend her claim; to hold the realm united..." She paused, taking a deep breath as she met the young lord's dark eyes. "She needs an army." She tried her best to soften her eyes. "War is coming, my lord. We cannot hope to wage it without the support of the North."

Cregan met her hard gaze with matching will, straightening his back at her words. "Do you think that my ancestors built a 700-foot wall of ice to keep out snow and savages?" He posed.

"What does it keep out?" Jace queried, brows furrowed.

The young lord of the North turned to meet his gaze, face serious. "Death."

Alysanne took a sharp breath in as she prepared to play her final card. The only card they had. "Perhaps we could come to an accord." She proposed, purposefully softening both her tone and her posture. "We are in need of an army, you need the manpower you have. You give us men, I will give you a dragon." Cregan's eyes widened. "Silverwing is large and wisened in the ways of the world. She is a worthy garrison to take the place of any men you might send to our cause."

Cregan laughed softly. "And what would you propose? You simply tell the old girl to 'stay' and expect her to sit the wall like a watchman?"

"I'm proposing a joining." She corrected. "Between our houses. Silverwing is my mount and I am her rider. You should have us both if I offered myself in marriage to your cause."

Cregan's eyes widened as he processed the information, taking a deep breath before dropping his shoulders. "We are at an impasse, Princess. Though I am Lord of Winterfell my body belongs to the Night's Watch. Upon taking the Black & sword an oath to father no children." He explained, making Alysanne's cheeks flush in embarrassment. "However... I would honor your request in an alternative way. My younger brother, Torrhen, is close your age. By law of my family any children he bears will be heir to my holdings." He looked between her and Jace. "It is not the marriage to a Lord that you came for, but your children would rule Winterfell until the end of days."

She looked to Jace for just a moment before nodding resolutely. "We have an accord." She watched as jace and Cregan clasped hands before speaking again. "Can we count on your men to fight for their Queen?"

Cregan smiled truly this time. "I have thousands of Greybeards who've already seen too many winters. They are... well-honed."

"So they're old?" Jace interjected, followed by a stern glance from Alysanne.

To both of their surprise the Northerner laughed. "I can ready them to march at once." Cregan insisted. "They shall fight hard. Like Northerners."

Jace grinned, fire stoking in his eyes. "We will have them."

"My lord!" A squire came sprinting down the battlement, "Urgent news from Dragonstone!" Upon seeing the sons of the Dragon Queen the squire seemed to stumble over his words. Alysanne felt something drop in her stomach as she watched the squire hand the slip of paper to his lord.

She wasn't sure if Jace could also hear the ringing in her ears.

"Alys!" Jace called after her as she stalked to her mount, tears freezing to the soft skin of her reddened cheeks. "Alysanne, stop!"

"We must ride for Dragonstone!" She cried, pulling her gloves on so hastily two of her fingers became trapped in the same slot of fabric. "We must speak with Daemon and our Mother! We cannot let this stand!" Jace stopped her with two hands on her shoulders, spinning her around to face him as she broke into a new wave of tears.

“Alys-“

“They took him.” She wailed. “They took Luke!” Her brother pressed his forehead to hers and she let her arms fall around him in a hug, their tears filling the air as they tried to find solace in each other. Two siblings mourning another.

“You must ride to Winterfell.” Jace insisted, choking on his tears.

“No!”

“You must!” He urged her, squeezing her face between his hands gently. “We cannot slip. Luke would not let us. You must fly to Winterfell and treat with Torrhen. Solidify our accord with the Starks.” He swallowed down a sob. “We must finish this, sister.” He murmured. “We cannot let him down.”

Alysanne choked but nodded fervently, her hair mussed from Jace’s hands and her own frantic running from the Wall. “I will ride to Winterfell.” She whimpered resolutely. “You fly to the Vale. Treat with our Aunt. I will treat with Torrhen Stark.”

“I will fly to the Eyrie.” Jace repeated, “We must secure the Vale. You finish with the North.”

She sobbed through her assent, breaking away from her brother and stumbling towards Silverwing, who let out a low cry of despair that matched her Rider’s sorrow, whining discontentedly.

“Īlon līs jikagon, issa hāedar.” She commanded softly, clambering into her dark saddle as her tears turned to steam from the heat of Silverwing’s sorrow. “Īlon daor jikagon lenton sepār sir.”

(We must go, my girl. We cannot go home just now.)

Silverwing trilled in response, beating her wings against the powder below her feet, surrounding them in the breath of the sky as they took to the clouds.

Winter was waiting.

“Aemond we can’t, someone will see!” She giggled, trying to push away the hot mouth currently sucking on her pulse.

“Let them see.” He said, noncommittal. “If my brother can wander about the castle with any maiden he chooses, then I can enjoy some time with my favorite niece.”

“Did you just compare me to Aegon’s whores?” She laughed, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck to lift his head to face hers.

He smiled dazedly at her, drunk on her skin. “If anyone is a whore…” He breathed, hot breath ghosting over her face. “I am yours.”

She giggled at his response, pulling him in for a chaste kiss on the lips. When they finally broke away she stopped him from moving too far with a hand on his chin.

“Promise you will never hurt me.” She whispered, eyelashes fluttering against his. “I could not bear it.”

He met her gaze with an intensity that stirred an unknown emotion deep in her gut, a feeling that only grew when he finally opened his mouth to speak.

“I should die first.”

[presidenthades]

OMG I loved it the new story thank you so much by the way, I was dying for an update and I love angst and drama so much.

Ohhhhh I have so many questions of this what if?

Sooo Luce is dead this means Aemond killed her and why? Did she took his eye in this timeline, or it happened as a result of the letter and that wound festered and Aemond got angry at Storms End

How long has Aegon been hiding, Vermax was coiling with Sunfyre ahhh such a little traitor but I cant blame her she was separated from her beloved Sunfyre

Soo this means Joff and Daeron and Aemond will die tooo I get the sense everyone pretty much is going to die here exept for Jace, Aegon and Jaehaera.

Update soon because Its awesome this new story of yours.

A lot of readers say they consider AHFOD a comfort read, so I wasn’t sure how this Darkest Timeline fic would be received. Turns out HOTD fans really crave angst. What a shocker considering the canon material. 😂

In the main AHFOD verse, one of my original reasons for Luce not taking Aemond’s eye (other than their close relationship) was that in a society with strong gender divides, it really isn’t typical for highborn girls to carry weapons like daggers. A lot of the same reasons I had from the Handbook/Compromise still apply here, since I imagine the main divergence happens when Aegon and Jace’s elopement is thwarted. I may eventually write a recounting of what exactly happened at Storm’s End.

In F&B, Aegon goes to Dragonstone almost as soon as he flees from KL. It’s a similar timeline here.

Vermax broke girl code. 😡 But I like to imagine Aegon frantically trying to get Sunfyre away from Vermax before Jace catches them in the opening scene. 😂

I tagged as much as I could on AO3 without giving away too many spoilers about the deaths. 👀

Honestly I’ve been possessed by a weird angsty muse with this fic. I already have the second chapter drafted.

[fulltimecatwitch]

VERMAX MY BELOVED

[jacaeryse]

@wcrriorhearts

ㅤㅤㅤWhen Jace arrived home for Halloween, the house had been decorated from floor to ceiling, and the furniture had been rearranged. Behind him Cregan carries their luggage through the door before setting it down. Vermax is the first to greet the pair. He barrels down the stairs and makes a beeline for Jace. Picking up the Dachshund, Jace is meant with relentless kisses and whines from his beloved wiener dog. "Vermax! My baby! I missed you, too!" He looks back at Cregan who was lovingly watching the pair. "I'm totally gonna bring him back with us." Jace sets Vermax down in time for Luke to bound down the stairs. He meets his younger brother with an enthusiastic hug and a look of astonishment. Luke was already taller than him before he left for college and now he was nearly as tall as Cregan and Harwin. Man, life was so unfair sometimes.

Having tasked Cregan with putting their stuff in his bedroom he searches the house for Rhaenyra. Vermax happily follows after Jace as he sets out on his quest. "Mom? Mom? Mom?" He called, poking his head into the kitchen to find Harwin removing cookies from the oven. His father quickly sets the tray down, forgets to throw off his oven mitts, and rushes to pull his son into a bear hug. Jace is certain he's got a broken rib by the time Harwin puts him down. "One of these days you're gonna break me in two." Jace pouts, rubbing at his sides in jest. Harwin affectionately cups his son's cheeks and squeezes, earning a glare from Jace. His son pulls away from the display of fatherly love bashfully. "Where's your boyfriend? He's usually always right behind you." Harwin asks, offering Jace a warm sugar cookie. "Upstairs. He's putting our stuff away but should be down any minute now." Jace takes the cookie and bites into it, finding it to be utterly delicious. When Harwin wasn't prepping for a cage fight he could be found in the kitchen, baking or flexing his culinary skills. "Where's mom? I haven't seen her. Is she upstairs with Aemma?" Jace asks after scarfing down his cookie as if he had been starving. "Last time I saw her she was laying Aemma down for a nap. That was about...twenty minutes ago? Just hang tight, buddy. She'll be down soon."

Jace sat down at the counter and was eventually joined by Cregan. He enjoyed watching his boyfriend interact with his dad. He was always so painfully formal around Harwin. For all his piercings and tattoos he was such a gentleman. Jace caught himself staring, chin in his palm while admiring his boyfriend. Man, he had really lucked out.

[lillyfics]

Soaring through the Skies || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: The trials and tribulations in the journey of your love with Aemond.

Chapter 1

Author's Note: The angst dosage increases this chapter as a side effect of listening to Paris Paloma when writing :(((

TW: swearing, sexual violence, angst, heartbreak, violence, child death, infidelity, death, references to smut

Chapter 2 (WC: 3325)

Time flowed, you are no longer a maiden, and the ceremonies came to an end. Slight sadness crept into you. The family you had so far will finally leave you, and you are handed over to a new family. You would also be expected to make a family of your own soon. Hugs and tears were exchanged with everyone. Well, everyone except Jace. Jace left as soon as possible on Vermax, making up excuses that everyone in your family knew to be lies. You were saddened at the fact that this is how your beloved friendship came to be in the end. However, the devastation really hit you once you realized that your father won’t be by your side anymore. He won’t be able to fly besides you anymore. He won’t be there to protect you anymore. He won't be there to teach you anymore. Nevertheless, your father had more faith in you than you did. “You are much more than the dragon of the Runes, you are my daughter.” These words did shock you as you understood his expectations to be that he would want any child of his to be like him, independent and strong. Yet, he was able to compromise with you by stating that he’s on your side, always. Goodbyes came to an end and disappeared across the sky and the shores, yet you were still unable to move. And when you eventually moved, you weren’t as sad as you expected yourself to be because now you had Aemond. And with Aemond you knew you would never feel desolate again.

Aemond’s love was the storm that would flood hell over. Aemond’s love was the forest fire that would leave nothing but ashes in its way. With Aemond, you expected nothing less. You only experienced the height of emotions with him, whether it be joy, or passion. You also find yourself loving the little things. He brushes your hair every night. You help him get ready for training every morning. Neither of you can’t even maintaining a little bit of distance from each other even in deep hibernation. An arm thrown over, leg slotted between thighs, or face buried in hair.

When Aemond’s busy, you find yourself spending time with Helaena and the children. You have always loved children, and you have always loved Helaena. So, children from her made the passage of time invisible to you. You seemed to be finding yourself spending some time with the queen even, as it seems like she is desperate to spend some time with another woman in a meaningful way. You are sure she loves Helaena, but she also understands that Helaena should be dealt with a delicacy that you do not require. Time to time, you also spend your evenings enjoying the time spent with the whole family, whether it be in the gardens or in the dining hall. Despite the discrepancies, even Aegon manages to draw a few giggles from you. The queen ranting about her duties. Helaena struck with fascination of nothing and everything. Children and their remarkable queries. Loud and crowded is what you would describe it as. You don’t hate it. Your eyes look for Aemond, only to find he is already looking at you. Unlike the first time they met at the dining hall a few months ago, they reflect your emotions, like a mirror. Is this what our future would look like one day? Filled with children and giggles and talk of duties among them? It sounds like a lot. A lot that once you would have thought unmanageable, even with your father by your side. But now, you want to fly to that future as quickly as possible knowing that Aemond would be by your side. And with Aemond, any pain would be feasible.

All you could hear was a gentle thumping sound. Your hair spread out on his chest as you lay your head upon his heart, both naked as the day you were born. “May I know the reason for your smile, my love?” asked Aemond. There were many reasons behind that smile, but you couldn’t form a single coherent thought. Was it the feeling of safety? Was it the feeling of warmth? Or was it love? You didn’t know you could ever feel something like this before. You looked up at him and said, “I love you”, which didn’t do the justice of explaining the concoction of emotions you felt, and you hoped your eyes would do that instead. He seems like he understood, as his eyes reflected the emotions you felt as he leaned forward to kiss you. It was a kiss that wasn’t filled with heat like before, but instead with patience and love. A kiss that you could keep on continuing till the end of life. But like all good things, it must come to an end.

You and Aemond are both early risers, but when Aemond heads out of the chambers to train himself you tend to stay within your chambers and prepare yourself for the day and bless yourself with menial tasks before you head out. However, this morning, something seems amiss. The maids who are chatty seems to have an air of nervousness around them. Even the guards seemed to be on high alert this day. While you don’t want to intrude upon, your instincts tell you to do otherwise. You start with the maids. “Do either of you want to tell me what is going on?” One of the maids, Clara, a seventeen-year-old girl who recently started working in the Red Keep, was bursting with the urge to tell you everything she knows because you were like a friend to her. As both were lonely young girls who recently moved to King’s Landing, you both bonded over learning or in your case, relearning the livings of the Keep. “Princess…” she stuttered nervously before one glare from the older maid shut her up. “What?”, now you were really intrigued. The older maid said “I am sorry Princess, it isn’t within our rights to tell us this, we are under strict orders of the Queen to not let you leave and it would be better for you to learn of the news from your lord husband.” You tried to leave your chambers, but the guards stop you from trying to leave, with apologies leaving their mouth. To hell with their apologies. You didn’t need apologies, you needed answers even though your gut already tells you that you know. Sensing your discomfort, the maids hurriedly finish their chores and leave the chambers, leaving you alone. You were always pragmatic, a quality that made you one of the most eccentric Targaryen princesses. You guess, no you know why everyone is acting like this. This act means the king is dead. The climax of this drama that everyone knew was coming, but found it difficult to accept. You couldn’t blame them either, as you possibly couldn’t have made a proper choice in this situation either. You know you should always be by your father’s side, doesn’t matter whether he is right or wrong because you know he would do the same for you too. But just because you should doesn’t mean you could or would. You were also the Lady of Runestone, and as the Lady of Runestone you should make a decision that would benefit the people. That is your duty, and truth to be told you weren’t completely sure that Rhaenyra would be the perfect queen, no matter how much you loved her. She has her own flaws, she is human after all, albeit be one that is closer to god.

All Targaryens are. But what about the other option, Aegon, the second son of King Viserys. Isn’t it also his birthright? However when has even acted like he desired his birthright? Plus Aemond, how did he fit into this? What role does he have in this story and how are you and him going to get through this. You have a duty to your father, duty to the people, and your duty to Aemond. At moments, like these you couldn’t help but despise the late king Viserys. He wasn’t a good uncle to you, but you could chalk it upto the fact he was a tired and an ill man trying to run a kingdom. But what about a father? His blatant imbalance in the act of fatherhood is the reason behind this mess. You couldn’t even give him the courtesy of being a good father to Rhaenyra, as from what you know he practically ignored her the first fourteen years of her life until he finally made her heir. However, you decided that even before his death that his worst was never doing anything to mend the relationship between her and his children from his second marriage, which eventually left her in an open field with no defenses, which in turn sets her up to be a failure as the heir to the iron throne. Your speedrun of thoughts were interrupted by the sudden opening of your chamber’s doors, as Aemond came bursting in. Without a second thought you rise up to meet Aemond, as he also moves forward towards you. Needing comfort, you raise your arms up to hug him, and was surprised to learn that he was also trying to pull you into one of his own. It seems that he craves the comfort too. You and Aemond just stayed in silence within each other’s arms. A few moments pass by before Aemond breaks his arms from around you and instead cups your face with them instead.

“The King-“

“I know”

 A few more moments pass by before you tug him along to the chaise, not letting go of his hands yet. “I had to chase Aegon across the sept, as he was trying to ignore his duties as usual,” states Aemond, hoping that you would agree and provide a sense of support to him. However, the gears in your head were working overtime, finally putting all the pieces together. “Isn’t Rhaenyra the heir chosen by the king?” you questioned. Aemond scoffed, “The only good thing the former king has ever done was to bind our souls together.” You agreed, but at the same time you didn’t. The lords across the realm swore their oaths, and your views were that breaking oaths were an unforgivable sin. Aemond however contradicted saying that oaths can, and should be broken for the betterment of the realm. While not entirely convinced, your conversation with Aemond slowly paved way to an argument; your first ever real fight with Aemond. The fight continued, words were exchanged, and you ended up realizing how determined Aemond could be. Yet you were your father’s daughter after all, not one to accept defeat. Eventually, teary-eyed, you both came to a compromise, at least you think it is one as Aemond didn’t want to see you in distress. The official order continues, you aren’t allowed to leave the Red Keep or get in contact with anyone outside the Red Keep, yet you don’t need to support Aegon as king vocally nor need to attend the coronation. “Sounds like I am prisoner then” you state melancholically. You think you could do more. You have a duty as the Lady of Runestone, and you have duty as the wife of Aemond. You are struck with disappointment about yourself as your love for Aemond had won over. With these thoughts, you hide your face in your hands, as few stray tears escape your eyes as Aemond proceeds to leave the chambers. Aemond, saddened by your situation as much as you are, is aware that both of you are stuck between a rock and a hard place. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he also knows that his grandfather is going to be disappointed as he was highly dependent on the support of Runestone, and with that the Vale follows. He expected the war of the raven would conclude sooner the moment Rhaenyra and Daemon realize that they lack the support they think they have. Keeping his thoughts to himself he stops by the doors as he is trying to leave, just hovering.

“Avy jorraelan”

 You would have almost thought you imagined it if you didn’t see Aemond still by the door, looking at you with despair in his eyes. The silence continues, as you can’t bring any words out of your mouth. Unable to meet your sad pools any longer, he departs.

But as time constricts, they carry on with the coronation, with or without you. Lord Otto Hightower and the Queen- sorry, the Dowager Queen Alicent are dissatisfied, but don’t want to be bothered with your situation right now. However, they still believe that you can be turned around for their cause, and are expecting Aemond to push you in that direction. They also however strictly infer in their talks that other measures have to be taken if you soon don’t bow to their will. You also have very little contact with the outside world. Aemond enters, stays for a short amount of time, and leaves the chambers as quick as he comes. You and Aemond also don’t have any talks besides basic formalities, in fear of reigniting the fire. Besides Aemond, the maids visit your chambers to perform their chores but they also leave without interacting much without you, sensing the tension. Hours pass, and you are aware that the coronation is going to happen soon, as Aemond gets ready in your chambers. It’s almost like his own chambers are abandoned for yours these past few months. For these few hours, you could only hear your own heartbeats, never having felt this way before. Even though this event’s happening is of no control of yours, you feel like your mere existence at this moment is a betrayal to your father, to Aemond, and even to yourself. Aemond leaves without any words, leaving you alone. You sense that he is still disappointed in you for not taking his side, but you are discomforted by the fact he isn’t able to see from your point of view. Wallowing in your self-pity for these past few hours, you failed to notice the weird change in environment until Aemond bursts into your room, as his eyes desperately seem to search for you. You notice there is something different in his aura, the first time you have seen him look like this. “Love, what’s wrong?”, you inquired at the same time he exclaims “Oh good, you’re here!” as he pulls you forward in a bone crushing hold. You let him wrap his arms around you, but his exclamations only rise a few questions out of you. You notice that he looks on the verge of anger and smells of dragon. You try to tilt your head up, ask your questions, but it is almost impossible to be released from the hold he has on you, his fingers tightly curled in your hair. He finally frees you, exhaling, “Princess Rhaenys escaped on dragon back while interrupting the coronation.” So that’s where the coronation was, at the dragon pit. Although it should be expected, you were surprised to find that like yourself, she too was held hostage. Now you know the reason behind Aemond’s aura. He thought that you too have escaped like her.

After convincing himself that you won’t leave, and even if you wanted to you possibly can’t due to the fact there’s no possibility to, or at least he thinks so for now, he finally leaves you alone again to attend a small council session. At this point, you feel like there is a void starting between you and Aemond, but you assure yourself that this is nothing except due to temporary tensions due the King’s passing and the choices between heirs. You believe that soon the war of ravens will come to an end and soon after that you and Aemond could achieve the sort of peace that was the topic of your many late night conversations. However, your eyes fail to mask the hopelessness you feel and Aemond notices it. At this point in your marriage, you and Aemond have become well-versed in the art of reading each others’ eyes, making it almost impossible to hide each other’s emotions. Stepping forward, he pulls you to gentle embrace, different from the one in the morning. In this joining of your arms, your hearts beat as one. Leaning his forehead against yours, he just looks into the pool of your eyes, hoping to convey the emotions his words couldn’t. Your lips couldn’t help but curl upwards, no matter how much you want to suppress it. He responds back with a smile of his own, a smile that is only reserved for you. You realize it will be okay. Maybe the future you dream about won’t be just a dream after all. As moments pass by, he finally realizes that time isn’t moving any slower and he has to leave. He also promises to have dinner with you tonight, just the both of you to rekindle your love.

After experiencing these past hours of loneliness, you are more than happy to look forward to your shared dinner tonight. You decide to fix your hair, add some powder to your face and some perfume to your body to give a semblance of what a normal dinner you would be having with the lack of political tensions. However, a sense of dread fills you as he doesn’t show up as the sun sinks lower and lower into the sky. Your patience finally comes to an end when nothing but the twinkles of the stars alight the sky. You leave your chambers, not alone but a kingsguard is made to follow you everywhere around the Red Keep as you look for Aemond. As you walked around, the members of the court start to give you weird looks. You have received judgment from the small council before, but now it almost seems like you either disgust them or rather they pity you. You hate being judged upon in this manner, as you decided to ignore them and continue your search, hoping that when you and Aemond are within each other’s reach, everything will be okay. Not even the convictions of the court’s members could bring you down. After searching the entire castle, now exhausted, you realize your first mistake was not asking the kingsguard about Aemond’s whereabouts. You assume he might have just told you. However, guilt fills the good ser’s features, repeating the same phrase you heard the other day. “I don’t think you should be hearing this from me my princess.” As you round the castle again, you end up learning that Aemond is not even in King’s Landing, and neither is Vhagar. You try to enquire the dowager queen Alicent about it but it seems like she is avoiding you on purpose to deflect your questions. Her servants decline you a meeting with her. In an anger, your journey ends with you in your chambers, filled with discontent. The pit of your stomach informs you that something is wrong. Locked alone in your chambers, you reject the offer to have dinner by yourself and decide to lay down on the bed and wait for Aemond. Nevertheless, your inability to control your emotions forces a sob out of you, which ultimately tires you and leads you to a deep sleep, still dressed for the dinner. As the moon takes its place, and the hour of the ghost passes by, you are woken out of your deep sleep as you feel a shift in the bed. Adjusting your eyes, you see that Aemond, sopping wet, sitting on the edge of the bed. You also notice that Aemond’s eyes now contain a look that you have never seen before. A haunted look.

“I killed Lucerys.”

High Valyrian Translations:

Avy jorraelan- I love you

[silverwingxox]

But A Boy - Aemond Targaryen

Pairing : Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Targaryen!Reader

Warnings : Angst, mentions of murder, mentions of death, HOTD incest

Summary : Aemond gets a reality check and reader choses a side.

AN : my first one shot, rubbish but enjoy<3<3<3

She ran through the halls of The Red Keep, her sworn sword Ser Arryk Cargyll running behind her to keep the princess within his line of sight, She was a fast runner to say the least, easy to loose track of with his armour weighing him down.

"Princess please!" Ser Arryk called out helplessly, knowing full well that the young woman wouldn't pay him any mind, continuing in pursuit of her elder brother who had just returned from Storm's End. She had to know if the rumour was true, if her beloved brother had turned into a kinslayer.

Pushing open the heavy wooden doors to Aemond's chamber, the young princess barged in, not caring if she was announced or not.

"Is it true?" (Y/N) panted, trying to regain her breath.

Aemond didn't bother to look up from the map of Westeros on his table, opposite the large roaring fire. Keeping his eye sight locked onto the aging map, his shoulder's tensed.

"I think you need to be a bit more specific sister."

Storming over to Aemond, (Y/N) pushed at his side, causing the older boy to stumble back a step at her force, his eye still downcast, (Y/N) grabbed her brother's chin harshly turning his face to her own.

"Did...Did you kill Luke?" The princess whispered, tears forming in her beautiful violet eyes, Aemond slowly brought his hands up to his beloved sister's neck, cupping her face, He pursed his lips before speaking. He knew (Y/N) had formed a bond with Rhaenyra and her bastard sons, Aemond had absolutely no idea why. (Y/N) had always been closest with Jacaerys and he hated it. He would always remember when the three of them were younger, how she would go out riding Silverwing and Jacaerys would ride Vermax. How she would leave him behind to be picked on by Aegon and Lucerys.

"I didn't know he would be there." Aemond muttered, as if it excuse his actions. (Y/N) gasped, her eyes wide. The one eyed prince was quick to try to comfort his sister.

"I didn't mean for this to happen. I promise you (Y/N)..." The Princess tried to push her brother away from her, but it was useless, his grip too tight on her for the woman to be able to get away from him.

"How..how could you? He is but a child Aemond! You told me you wouldn't seek vengeance, you promised me! He took your eye so you took his life! We were both there that night Aemond, we both know you deserved it!" Tears fell from (Y/N)'s eyes as she began to scream at her brother.

Hearing his sister's words, Aemond pushed her away from him at such a force, the young princess fell back on to the cold stone floor.

"I didn't do anything wrong! I was attacked!" Aemond raised his voice in self defence, the one eyed prince starting stalking up and down his chamber, his blood beginning to boil. How dare his sweet sister say such spiteful words, how dare she defend his bastard nephew.

He honestly didn't mean to kill Lucerys...only frighten him, maybe injure him a little, but he didn't mean to kill him. The prince had lost control of his dragon who lost herself in the thrill of the chase. Vhagar would not obey and took down both his nephew and his dragon in one bite, tearing Arrax's wing from his tiny body. Aemond wouldn't admit it to his sister but killing Lucerys was an accident.

"Aemond...you must realise they will want revenge, they will come after us! Aegon already sits on Rhaenyra's throne and now you have killed Luke...Daemon will not let this slide." (Y/N) still sat on the floor, looking up at Aemond, still wearing a horrified expression.

She loved Luke, unlike her two elder brother's, she enjoyed the company of the Velaryon boys, they were always so nice to her. She had many fond memories with them and her half sister Rhaenyra, she brought a hand to her chest, over her heart thinking of the pain her elder sister must be going through at the loss of a child.

"I'm not scared of Daemon, he should be the one to fear me!" Aemond shouted as he walked over to his sister, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her up from the ground with a tight grip that would surely leave a bruise.

"Why would Daemon fear you? You are but a boy." (Y/N) stated, her voice deadly calm, her eyes not leaving Aemond's, she knew her brother was quick to anger, but she didn't care. He needed a reality check and she would be just the person to give it to him.

(Y/N) was never afraid of her brother, he had always been kind and protective over her, he would whisper the sweetest things into her ear when he would sneak into her chambers after supper, he would leave soft kisses down her stomach as he prepared to make love to her throughout the night, he would hold her tight come morning when the sun has barely risen in the sky. 

Aemond had always been soft, gentle and caring when it came to his beloved sister so what reason would she have to fear him? 

“I ride the largest dragon in the world, Daemon has every right to fear me.” Aemond stated as a fact. (Y/N) shook her head, her long wavy hair falling into her face as she did so, the prince pushed the fallen strand and tucked it behind her ear softly, his face softening as he took in (Y/N)’s face. 

“I know you’re scared, but I will protect you.” Aemond moved his head forward, aiming to press his lips against (Y/N)’s soft plump one’s. However, the princess moved her head, Aemond’s lips landing on her cheek. 

“I don’t need your protection. Nor do I want it.” (Y/N) stated before turning away from her brother, heading towards the large oak doors. Aemond took in her retreating form, dread and confusion filled his senses. 

“Where are you going?” Aemond asked, remaining in the same spot. (Y/N) turned as she opened the door, looking at her brother one last time, taking in every bit of him. Memorizing his features.

"Dragonstone."