#visenya is so done

[thot-chi]

Aegon the Conqueror: marriage is also a way for bringing together houses. (Wiggling his eyebrows.)

Torrhen Stark:...You have two wifes...

Aegon: BUT NO HUSBAND (wiggling eyebrows with more aggression)

[swordsandarms]

"It's probably all propaganda and lies and the Conqueror Trio must not have been that great, what if-"

The way GRRM constructs the Targaryen dynasty and plays around with different kind of rulers gives perfect sense to them being meant to be interpreted at face value (and it's not like it is all milk and honey already as related in history books - things going not as smoothly as some start dying, showing this complementary balance they had was essential to make that 'unrealistic' potential work).

From the experimenting writer's perspective, it makes sense to start with the 'ideal' (balance between genders, between use of force and diplomacy, etc) before starting to deconstruct which branch can go wrong and what that means, starting with 'splitting' the balance into the extremes of Aenys and Maegor, then the 'Patriarch' that loses sight of the strength in that gender balancing act, the one that is too devout, the one that is too debauched; trusts too much, trusts too little; parents too tough, parents too lenient; too daring or too cautious; even the "too liberal values" of Aegon V that aren't wrong but too ahead of their time to try to implent.

From an in-world perspective of realism, it works, too. That this unification project would start with all confidence in capable hands, doing what seems enough to assure its contnuing success from the perspective of that point in time without the foresight of unforseeable complications of the failings of human nature (such as listed above).

The Conquerors having been this balanced conquering and governing team too unrealistic to replicate down the line (so far) adds substance to the dynasty, doesn't take it away.

[tragedy-peanut-gallery]

I live through a vicious cycle 💖

[dulcewrites]

[dragonseeds]

visenya/daemon parallels my beloved...

yessss they never get old to me either. will be here talking the same the dragon has three heads into every generation a visenya is born ouroboros nonsense for years lol

[peachysunrize]

Corrupted by God ⥃ Prince Aemond Targaryen

Summary: after the battle of Rook’s Rest, Aemond comes back to King’s Landing as the heir to the throne with a newfound determination to make the Queen of the Seven kingdoms his queen as well.

Pairing: Prince Aemond Targaryen x Aegon’s wife/queen reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, dark content!!!!!!!!! angst, post Rook’s Rest, post s2e4, p in v, porn with a very little plot, breeding, emotional manipulation/heavy manipulation, dark!Aemond, a bit dubcon, Aemond has a hugeeee god complex, mentions of Aegon’s injury, rough sex, reader is not a Targaryen (the pic was pretty so I used it lol), tell me if i’ve missed something. English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 2.5k+

A/n: pleaseeeeee read the warnings! This was requested by my beloved @sylasthegrim ! I hope I did your idea justice and hope you like it<33 Reblogs & comments are most appreciated🩷

A god among men, that’s how Aemond feels when he closes his eye and lets Vhagar float in the air, flapping her wings once in a while to get to King’s Landing faster. He remembers the nights he prayed to the gods to give him strength, to change his destiny, and to give him a happy life, but today, with his she-dragon soaring through the clouds, he took his faith in his own hands and became a God himself.

A delicious ache in his muscles seeps through his bones, but it is nothing compared to the rush of euphoria he feels as he imagines himself on the throne with his uncle’s head beneath his foot and his queen by his side.

His queen, you, oh how he has done all of this for you. He has turned into a monster, soaked his hand in the blood of his kin while he thought of you, and how he deserves to have a queen befitting him and his reign.

He knows what he must tell the council and his mother, something that surely aligns with Cole’s words, but what he has to say to you has been worded out for so long that he cannot believe his plan has finally reached so far to this point to utter them to you.

He sighs as he feels his pants tighten — at the thought of you and the weight of the Conqueror's crown — and to his luck, the city comes into his view, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth while he guides Vhagar atop Visenya’s hill. He catches the sight of two Dragonkeepers and a horse ready for him, watching how they scurry away from the old she-dragon and wait for her to land.

Vhagar’s body shakes the ground as her feet keep her body secured, and Aemond rubs her scales softly before he climbs down the ropes of his saddle, jumping on the grass before he shushes the dragon again, mumbling a soft ‘Lykiri’ against her snouts.

He doesn’t spare a glance at the Dragonkeepers, he moves past them to the guard who hands him the reins of the horse, and Aemond swings his leg over the saddle before guiding the horse down the hill, bolting through the streets of the city.

The wind blows through his hair as he rides the horse to the Red Keep’s gates, lords and ladies move out of his way quickly, making room for their prince so he can lead his horse to the yard. The guards are fast on their feet to reach for the reins, stopping the animal so Aemond can step down.

He jumps down, patting the neck of the mare before he strides forward inside the castle, the court is already fussy with anticipation of what has befallen their king, but Aemond has one person in his mind that he wishes to seek out.

“Aemond!” The sound of his mother stops him on the stairs, and he looks up to see her running towards him with shock and disbelief on her face, “what’s happened?”

“We took the castle,” he says calmly, almost dismissively, “our king graced us with his presence on the battlefield. We won.”

He tries to move past Alicent with a shrug, but she grabs his arm tightly, forcing him to look her in the eyes before she asks what has been bothering her ever since Sunfyre took the sky earlier that day. But with the look Aemond gives her, she closes her mouth silently, nodding before she departs towards the main entrance of the castle, waiting for the hand to come back to the city.

Aemond scoffs and takes long steps toward the royal chambers on the upper floors, passing the servants who shield themselves from his gaze as he goes past them. 

He knows the path leading to the queen’s chambers like the back of his hand; through the stairs and Maegor’s tunnels — He has walked each way for many nights just to stay behind your doors and listen to your sweet voice talking to your daughter or handmaidens.

Aemond remembers the day you were wed to his brother, covered in a beautiful white and golden gown that brought out your curves to his eye. He was infatuated from the moment he laid his eye on you, and after such a long time, that infatuation has turned into something more primal and possessive, something that he thinks his brother does not deserve, that is befitting of Aemond and not the drunken fool who’s your husband.

Each step he takes adds more to the post-battle euphoria he’s experiencing — now that he’s the heir and the most powerful man, he deems himself fit to not just rule over the kingdom of ash and bone that is about to endure more battles, but to have his queen by his side. What better woman than the already beautiful creature that lies in an attached chamber to the king’s?

A ghost of a smirk forms on his face with each second that he walks within the hallways that lead to your chambers, his chin held high and his fingers itching with excitement in his leather gloves as he locks them behind his back.

Aemond licks his bottom lip, his blood rushing down to his core at the thought of the sight of you heavy with his child and the Conqueror’s crown atop your head. His queen, even the sound of it in his head seems right.

When he reaches your door, he pushes it without knocking, finding you already pacing with a wet handkerchief clutched in your hand.

Sweet sweet lady, the queen of his dreams, he basks in the way you carry yourself with worry for your husband. What a good wife he wishes to say, but no, a good wife to his idiot brother is not much better than a slur.

But to him? Oh, how much of a phenomenal bride-to-be you’d make for him, someone who is kind and deserving of his reign.

“My queen,” he says, standing straight when your head snaps in his direction, concern weaved into your features already. He takes in a deep breath as his eye runs over your form — a red long-sleeved gown with black dragons embroidered on it, your hair wild and free from your usual braids.

“Aemond!” You rest your hand against your heart as you take a few steps towards him, “What has befallen us? Aegon, he—“

“Shh,” he gently shushes you, his gloved hands coming to rest on your elbows, holding your body close to his, “we have won the battle. The castle has fallen and the false queen can no longer have a ground army.”

“That is great!” You utter, “But— what of our king? My husband? Aemond, is he alright?”

He smiles gently, a smile that does in fact reach his eye. There is a malicious look he has that it seems you fail to notice, because even his mother hesitated to let him go easily, but you? No, your soft and loving nature could never go past his mask.

“He is…”

“What? Please, Aemond is he—“ 

“No, no,” he replies quickly, one of his hands coming up to rest on your cheek, “he fought well, and he is alive,” he caresses your cheek as his eye meets yours, thinking how beautiful you look all worried about your husband, soon you’d be looking worried about him and not his brother.

“But…”

“But what? Is he hurt?” You grip his forearm tightly, looking up at him with tears stinging your eyes, “Tell me, please, Aemond, what’s happened to my husband?”

“He’s alive but on the brink of death. The traitor Rhaenys… your grace, such stories are not meant to be heard by a gentle soul like you—“

“I wish to know! What have they done to my husband?!” You demand him to tell you, and Aemond sighs deeply, but the buzz of excitement makes him even more determined.

Sweet lamb falling right into his trap.

“He took the skies quite suddenly, I had little time to meet him in the air. Meleys and her bitch of a rider had their claws in our king, and however fearsome he is, he could do naught.”

With each word that falls from his lips, more tears drop from your lashes, and he feels how numb you’re slowly getting in his arms.

“Sunfyre and Aegon… they survived Dragonfire, but—“

“Gods be good!” You gasp, a sob wrecking your body as he tries to shush you, a gloved finger reaching to wipe away your tears gently.

“I found him; burnt, broken but breathing,” he kisses your forehead, smirking against your skin, “he told me — had me promising him — to make haste and seek you out, to take care of your every wish.”

“Thank the gods!” You ask him, craning your neck to look into his eye, “What else did he say?”

He can’t answer you, not when you look at him with such a yearning, eyes full of tears and longing for condolences. He smooths his finger over your eyebrows, creasing your frown before he leans down and presses another kiss to your cheek.

“I could not say, he was weary, but…” his other hand comes to cup your face, “he told me to answer to your every whim, and that you should stay by my side until he has healed and help me rule.”

“But shouldn’t I take care of him?” You ask, eyes narrowing as he gently backs you up towards your bed, “Aemond, what are—“

“My queen, do you trust me?” He asks as he trails a path from your cheek to the column of your throat with his nose, “I will take care of you, all of your needs. That is what our king wanted, how cruel would we be if we do not obey his commands?”

“We would break his heart,” you whisper, inhaling sharply when he hovers his lips against yours, “we should do as he asks.”

“Hmm, yes, we should,” he closes the gap between the two of you, his lips moving along yours slowly for he feels how you quiver and meet his lips hesitantly.

He kisses you gently at first, hands moving down towards your waist to pull on the strings of your gown, long gloved fingers working on it until the red fabric loses its grip around your waist. Aemond pushes the gown off your shoulders, caressing your skin with the back of his hand before he lets your dress pool around your ankles.

His lips move against yours passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth for the first time, and he lets himself get lost in your taste — sweet with a tinge of lime, hinting that you’ve had lemon cake earlier.

He pushes you onto the bed after he helps you out of your shift, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze. He pulls his gloves off by his teeth, dropping each on the floor next to your discarded clothes, soon to be followed by his belt and dagger.

He can hear the rumbles of his men walking back to the city, but now all his attention is on you, and how he has to take what he has promised himself. 

Aemond doesn’t take his clothes off, he would if he were a lesser man, but now, he’s determined, ready to take the promised prize and faith the Gods have granted him — but no god is intelligent enough to set you as his prize. It’s always been him and his schemes.

He pushes his leather pants down enough to free his aching cock, swiping his finger across your wet slit, eliciting a moan out of both of you as he keeps rubbing your pearl firmly, basking in your whines of pleasure.

His free hand strokes himself to full hardness, thinking of your upcoming wedding night and how he’d take you in front of the council on the bedding from behind, chaining you to him like the religion that has chained his mother to the Seven.

You fist the bedsheets, back arching as soon as he covers your body with his and guides his cock to your soaked entrance. He watches how your lips part in a silent plea when he breaches your cunt, groaning as soon as your walls envelop his length.

“Oh, Aemond—“You reach for him desperately when he sheathes himself inside you completely, not letting you adjust to his size for more than a mere second before setting up his pace, bullying his cock deep inside you with each smooth stroke.

It’s empowering to see you all nude and luscious on your bed taking his cock like you were shaped just for him to do so — maybe you were made for him, molded into this perfect lady to be desired and cherished by him.

“Aren’t you the most beautiful queen the realm has ever seen?” He asks, his eye is hazy with lust as he fucks you harder, finding deep pleasure in how he’s fully clothed and you are bare as the day you were born. He takes pride in having you putty in his hands.

He cages you under him, his lips slotting against yours once more as he licks his way into your mouth while he slams his shaft inside your tight cunt with abandon.

“Gods, oh– I’m— ah!”

“You only have one god, my darling, and that is me,” he groans against your lips, his leather coat brushing against your heated skin while the tip of his cock nudges against your sweet spot that has you seeing stars, “Worship me at your altar, just as your husband wanted.”

You come with a cry of his name, sending him over the edge with your sweet moans of euphoria. He bruises himself to a halt, emptying his sack with ropes of his cum inside you, making sure to make the next king of the Seven Kingdoms with his queen.

The way your face scrunches in pleasure has him almost coming again, knowing it was him who gave you such a blinding peak that has you shaking in his arms.

The sounds of footsteps rushing past your door to the King’s chambers have the two of you scurrying and parting from each other. You are clumsy with how you put on your dress with Aemond’s warm seed dribbling down your thighs, but your husband’s home, your king.

Aemond tucks himself back into his pants, following you out of your chambers into his brother’s only to find the maesters and his mother already there, tending to his burns and wounds.

“Aegon, my love—“ he doesn’t listen to what you say as you try to make room for yourself among the men, wanting to reach for your husband.

“Someone has to rule in his stead,” Aemond exclaims as he leans on the headboard of the bed, looking down at his handiwork before he catches your eyes as you smile with teary eyes at him, nodding to Alicent in encouragement.

“The gods have blessed him with intelligence for he would make a fine ruler, and he shall take care of me, just as our king desired.”

[navree]

I know that Grrm wants the Targaryen to have their tyrant in Maegor but c'mon there was no need for making him Antichrist reborn again, ruled for 666 had a knight named Lucifer fights for him lmaoo like ok we know grrm he is bad he isn't meant to be liked but cmon

I'll be honest I'm fine with Maegor being an utter bastard, mostly just because I think that there is a deplorable dearth of characters who are bad people Just Cuz, everyone's out here being all conflicted and tortured by their own evil and Klaus Mikaelsoning their way through villainy (and I love characters like that I do, I've been in a "reread Batman comics" phase and Jason is my sweetest and most beloved boy for a reason) and nobody's just bad for the sake of being bad. So Maegor having this potential for intricacy early in life (which if you look through my Maegor tag you know I adore) and then once he gets power turning into an utterly evil figure the more he wants to hold onto it is very very fun for me and I don't mind it.

Plus there's a lot to play with in the idea that Maegor was always the unfavored in the eyes of his family until he stole the crown and he decides he's never going to not get something he wants ever again, if he wants it he's got it and he doesn't care what he has to do or how far he has to go anyway not just because of the worsening madness within him and all that (man was out ehre killing things when he was a kid I can humanize Maegor as I often do but that's still part of the homicidal triad) because at this point the only person who matters to him is him. Love that for the man, honestly.

[ghostssimp]

Pretty Boy //Aegon Targaryen

Aegon has always been a mind absent. His mind was mostly clouded with thoughts and he always seemed sorrow. That's what you mostly saw of him.

In the early morning, you would get up. Sometimes he wasn't even there and you found him somewhere else sleeping away. When he was there, he smelled like wine and whores. You knew from the beginning what it meant when Viserys decided to marry you to him. Aegon didn't want to do anything with you. You were his sister's daughter. His niece. And he was supposed to be the Usurper King. He took his sister's throne.

The most important part is that he didn’t trust you. You could see that in his eyes.

But he didn't care. He was hoping that you would slit his throat in his sleep. He hopped you would pierce his chest and take that damn beating thing out of there. Every night, he would get drunk and go to his whores to make you hate him. That drunk, he would lay and close his eyes in hope you would end it.

But every morning when he opened his eyes, disappointment would reach his chest. You never were in bed, your side would be long cold.

The night when he pinned you to his bed and pounded into you, he hoped you would do it. He didn't even look you in the eye. He didn't share not one kiss with you. It was all to make you hate him.

You felt pain in your body from the force he took you. He took your purity, not being once gentle about it. Not having any sympathy for you. But he is your husband. You are his wife. You are supposed to spread your legs to him.

When he was done, he just rolled off. Went to sleep. He couldn't lie to himself, it felt amazing to feel you. He hoped in the morning, they would find his King dead.

Dissapointment.

You were once again, nowhere to be seen.

That morning, you went to your dragon. A beautiful beast pitch black with gray straps on wings. Up in the clouds, it finally felt like you were free from everything. Free from the claws of The Greens.

Your heart leaped towards your mother. You wanted to go back to Rhaenyra, to your brothers. To your father. It all seems like you just could have a change of mind and fly away, but you remember the promise you gave to your mother.

Tears run down your face as she cupped it in her hands. "Mother I don't want to be away from you. Don't leave me here with them." Your voice was pleading her. As she soothed you.

"My heart hurts just from the thought I have to leave you here. But listen to me Visenya. You are the only one that can stop this. Try to reach him. Promise me."

You're here to prevent a war. And it's not doing great. Aegon is absent from you. Ignoring you with his every step.

As you lower down to the ground, you could always see on the faces of the dragon keepers that they were surprised that you didn't escape. That you didn't flee from this hell.

You slide down from your dragon and lean your head against hers. "Kirimvose ñuha gevives." Thank you my beauty.

Your dragon purred a growl to you leaning her head and nudging you. You loved her and it was you and her always. You notice your husband standing just a few feet away. His dragon, Sunfyre nuzzled his tip of the nose against Aegon.

That's when you see a smile. Beautiful smile was plastered on Aegon's face. Something in you stirred. You pat your dragons neck as you walk over to your husband, faded smile making it's way on your lips.

"He's magnificent." Aegon suddenly heard your soft voice behind him. When was the last time you said something to him? When was the last time he said something to you? He couldn't remember and it made him shocked that you even spoke to him. His eyes never left Sunfyre as he embraced the beast.

"He truly is." You heard him. When was the last time you heard his voice? When was the last time he heard yours? You didn't remember.

Your eyes didn't leave his face. To see a good emotion on him was truly rare. "You're pretty when you smile."

He froze. Did he hear you right? He was trying so damn long to make you hate him, for you to kill him and here he blew everything up, by a fucking smile?

"I wish you safe ride, husband." You lastly said as you leaved him. You knew that he wasn't bad to the core. You knew he was man starved of love. His mother never gave it to him. You knew that all she knew was to yell, scream out his mistakes and even strike a slap across his beautiful face. There was a twinge of sadness in your hear for him.

You didn't see or hear from him for the rest of the day. You didn't even think that he would come before you fell asleep. You stood by the window, undoing the last braid in your hair looking outside at silent world when you heard the doors opening.

Your head turned just a little surprise stroke you as you saw your husband entering your shared room, without any odor of wine or whores. He seemed... Normal.

Aegon found his seat on your shared bed, turned to face you. He watches your figure through your night gown. Moonlight making your face gleam with beauty your mother gave you, your hair seemed to shine. You looked too beautiful and too pure for him. He was broken. Dirty and broken from the inside. A black hole seemed to fill him everyday. It made him sick in the stomach now, to think he was ruining you.

"Why?" You heard him whisper. Your eyes found his, confusion placed on your face. "What?"

"Why?" His voice was soft, silent, kind of a broken. "Why don't you end me? Why don't you hate me? I ruined you. I took your mothers throne. I come to your bed drunk, I cheated on you and I-" He cut himself as he lowered his head down, frown on his face. "I've never been gentle with you. Why haven't you ended me by now?"

Your heart broke hearing him. You stood in front of him soon and your hands cupped his cheeks, lifting his head up. You saw pain and void in his violet eyes. "You're my husband Aegon. Everything you do, doesn't matter. You can't hurt me. I know you don't want to."

"You should've killed me."

"Can't do it. I'm your wife." He couldn't do anything to make you hate him. It drew him mad. How couldn't he fall under your pretty foot?

"Then you know your duties." He tried again, last time, he promised himself. He wanted to try to make him hate you one last time, but when a smile reached your soft features, he stopped himself.

"I do." You sat down on his lap, your legs on each of his sides, your night gown pulled up. When your lips cupped his finally, he felt like he was in heaven, something alike a soft whimper left his lips as your hands reached down and undo his pants pulling him out and stroking him slowly.

He finally starts to kiss back, his hands finding your waist holding you close. You lift yourself up and pull him by your entrance.

"Let me take care of you, my King."

[visenyaism]

tyrannical king maegor dashboard simulator

🐉queen-visenya--outlives

Dowager Queen Visenya Targaryen has outlived her nephew the King Aenys I Targaryen. Her son King Maegor I Targaryen has returned to the capital to claim his father’s throne.

💫 sevensent Follow

crusty incest king died. FLOP!

💫 sevensent Follow

wait MAEGOR?

🥔 bowlofbrown

this job fucking sucks. finished my shift and i cant even clock out because i got lost underneath the site.

#dark as shit down here #never working construction again

💌 maidens-smile Follow

i literally cannot believe how many supporters of m*egor i see on my dashboard every day when he is literally flaying and torturing so many seven-blessed poor fellows just for practicing their religion and saying incest is bad??? he’s literally outside my city waiting to burn us all to death DNI if you support him

🪨 dragonstoner Follow

🐉 queen-visenya--outlives

Dowager Queen Visenya Targaryen has outlived the High Septon. He previously denounced King Maegor and his wives as “the abomination and his whores,” and passed shortly after Dowager Queen Visenya and King Maegor flew their dragons to the gates of Oldtown and threatened to burn the Starry Sept.

🪽 maegors-wins Follow

i for one think “the cruel” is a bit unfair given how he has done so much to uplift women’s voices and free us from religious tyranny like. named the first female heir in westerosi history? improving the infrastructure in king’s landing? decentralizing the power of the faith? he literally loves gay people so much he married three of them?

🦓 zorse-deactivated7849

op what does that eleven inch necromantic targaryen dick feel like because if you keep riding that hard I’m pretty sure it’ll rot off

🔮 tyanna

in seven days you will begin to cough

#twelve. btw

🐉 queen-visenya--outlives

Dowager Queen Visenya Targaryen has outlived her great-nephew Aegon Targaryen, henceforth to be known as “The Uncrowned.” Her son King Maegor I Targaryen has slain him and his dragon Quicksilver over the gods’ eye for trying to usurp his throne.

🌞 ullerihardlyknowher Follow

why is this always how i find out how do you know this before even cravings moste popular

#also what the fuck is going on up there

🪰 florian-and-jonquil-on-nymerias-ship Follow

guys the oversexualization of king maegor is so problematic and insane considering he’s not only shy and married as a 13 year old but also is literally neurodivergent (has CTE)

🤲 aegonfort-top

🤲 aegonfort-top

lost my left hand for posting this

#it was kind of hot though

🗣️ towerstower Follow

was not into targaryen rule at all but if we are going to do it it’s kind of fun that we are being ruled by a super powered animated blood corpse and his circle of freaky bisexual witches and also his mommy instead of like. a normie who also fucks his sister

🫀 imasharpknife Follow

seven hells you people would fuck a k*nslayer if they had valyrian silver hair

🐦‍⬛ raventooth Follow

during these trying times when our king is accused of depravity and tyrannies abound throughout the land we must remember the most important truth: the brackens are still a people spawned from the lowest of the seven hells

🐎 brackennation

KILL YOURSELF. Lord Gonzo Tully himself AS YOU KNOW literallyyyyyy gave us the right to move the boundary stones over the tributary. but i wouldn’t expect a blackwood to acknowledge basic laws and rights you’re just too busy doing blood sacrifices to your nasty heathen tree god.

🐦‍⬛ raventooth Follow

as soon as i figure out why balerion is overhead rn im coming over to kill you. btw

🐎 brackennation

wait looks like he’s headed towards harrentown

🐦‍⬛ raventooth Follow

oh cool. KILL YOURSELF

💐 floriansfool36 Follow

hi guys!!! sorry i’m a sennight late posting this, my brother got killed and then one of my other brothers got tortured to death and then my great-aunt died and i ended up having to flee dragonstone for storm’s end and it was kind of scary lol. anyways here’s the update as promised!!!

🌟 maidensgrace Follow

i wish Balerion did get you RPF is literally soooooo problematic. look to your sins op

#daenys the dreamer and nymeria weren’t even alive at the same time????

❤️ lanadelrhaena

i think you did a great job. glad you’re safe xx

💐 floriansfool36 Follow

YOU HAVE INTERNET IN THE KEEP???? HIIIII

[howcouldmuffin]

Dreaming.

You know that falling in love makes you feel like a fool, but what if it’s him?

PAIRING : Jacearys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

WARNING : SFW, Targaryen incest, Non-canon

AN : I was inspired by the song “Kingston” by Faye Webster. Her music is amazing, and the way she describes falling in love is so lovely to me. Although it may not perfectly match the song, I hope you like it.

please be kind to me English is not my first language.

Everyone in Westeros is aware of the long-standing conflict between the Greens and the Blacks. The king is well aware of this issue too, but he hasn’t been able to resolve it, so the problem continues to persist.

You know the Velaryon siblings very well, having grown up under the same roof as them. While your mother’s influence might have made many think that you were not close, children often don’t see things the same way as adults. They, along with your siblings, were raised to constantly compete with each other, enemies by birth. But after they moved to Dragonstone, everything seemed to calm down.

As the years passed, you grew into a princess of great honor, more graceful than anyone in the Seven Kingdoms. You possess every desirable quality, and people often compare you to a combination of Visenya and Rhaenys in a single woman. Such praise could easily lead to vanity, but you know well that these words are nothing more than the desires of those who speak them.

“I’ve heard that Rhaenyra has arrived.” you say as you open the door to Helaena’s chamber. “Will you join me? Mother is likely busy in the small council.” She is preoccupied with your nieces and nephews, and at their age, they are quite a handful.

“I’m sorry, but my children are being quite a handful right now.” she says, confirming the scene before you. The children are getting ready for their bath, and it looks like it will take a while. You decide to help your sister manage her lively brood.

“Who here is being a good child?” you ask as you lift up one of the boys. “Is it you, Jaehaerys, or is it you, Jaehaera?” The children are usually well-behaved around you, and they listen to you quite obediently.

“I am!” the boy answers.

“Well, good children don’t make their mother tired, okay? That goes for you too, young lady.” Both nod in agreement and follow their maid to go take their bath.

“Thank you so much, sister.” Helaena says as she walks over to you. “It would have been even more chaotic without you.”

“You’re welcome, but I should be going now.” you reply, kissing her cheek before leaving the room and making your way down the corridors of the Red Keep.

The decorations here have likely changed since your eldest sister last saw them. Religious symbols now adorn the walls of the building. At times, you don’t agree with what your mother has done, filling the place with the beliefs of your family’s old traditions.

“Your Grace.” you curtsy to the pair as you approach.

“I apologize for not being there to welcome you. I only just heard that you arrived, and Mother is likely preoccupied with the small council meeting,” you explain. Rhaenyra immediately embraces you. Despite your mother’s dislike for her, you are not your mother. Her attempts to separate you have no effect if you refuse to adopt her views.

“I have already received a warm welcome from you.” Rhaenyra smiles as she releases you from her embrace and takes your hand.

“Only from you, niece.” Daemon adds.

“You must be tired from your journey. I think you should rest first.” you suggest.

“My husband and I will visit Father first.” she responds. “and I have someone I want you to meet.” She lifts up a young Targaryen boy while another child is carried by a maid.

“This is Aegon, and this is Viserys.”

“So these are my nephews, my little princes.” you say, taking Viserys from the maid. “They have grown so well.” Both boys have the silvery-golden hair of dragons and possess the regal presence of true princes of Westeros.

“Jace and Luke mentioned they would be heading to the practice yard if you wish to see them.” she adds. Your dear nephews, you wonder how much they’ve grown. You hand Viserys back to the maid after kissing his cheek, then turn to your sister.

“In that case, I’ll take my leave, Your Grace.” They both nod in acknowledgment.

You leave the area and head straight to the practice yard. You and Jacaerys are the same age, while Lucerys is a year younger than you. You Daeron and Jacaerys were all nursed by the same wet nurse, which is why you and your twin brother are closer to them than to others in the family.

After a short walk, you find the stairs leading to the training yard. You catch a glimpse of your brother Aemond, who is also there. Over the years, you have tried to encourage him to let go of his grudge, knowing that he once experienced the same mistreatment as our nephews. You hope he may have come to some understanding.

“Welcome, dear nephews.” you say as Jace and Luke turn to see you, their faces showing a mix of nostalgia as they remember the place where they once lived.

They have grown so much, the boys you once knew have become handsome young men, true princes. As soon as they see you, they rush to embrace you, and you return the gesture. They are still as endearing as ever.

“How was your journey?” you ask them.

As you pull away from the hug, you notice how their handsomeness has only increased. Jacaerys, in particular, possesses a beauty that seems straight out of the fairytales you once read. Your heart races, pounding in your chest.

“It went smoothly.” Jace replies. “You’ve grown so much.”

“And even more beautiful.” Luke adds, making you all laugh together. The moment brings back memories of when you were all young and oblivious to the complexities of the world.

“I wish you the best in the judgment, Luke.” you say, taking your younger nephew’s hand. “I will speak with my mother and my grandfather on your behalf.”

“Thank you so much, Princess.” he smiles back at you.

“It seems there’s a family gathering I wasn’t invited to.” your brother Aemond’s raspy voice breaks in. He walks over, and you notice Lucerys’s discomfort. To prevent any tension, you step in front of him, silently urging Aemond not to start anything.

“Are you here to train, nephews?” Aemond asks.

Before anyone can respond, Vaemond Velaryon, another claimant to Driftmark, appears. His presence is intimidating, and he seems to harbor little fondness for your two nephews. You silently pray that the gods favor your nephews over him.

“I apologize for being late, Your Grace.” you said, curtsying before taking your seat. Before dinner, you had so many things on your mind that you lost track of time in the bath, and by the time Nora came to fetch you, it was already late.

“A princess should know the importance of being punctual.” Alicent scolded you.

“It’s alright. Children always have many things on their minds.” your father said. “Go ahead, take your seat.” You nodded at your father and made your way to the empty seat beside Aemond. Helaena smiled at you, and you noticed Jacaerys watching you as well. He had been the reason you had been thinking about him all day.

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems.” Viserys continued. “I announce here that my youngest daughter will marry my grandson, Jace. I have made my decision, and I ask you all to accept it.” Your father's declaration left the entire room in silence, including you.

You could hardly believe what you had just heard. You looked over at Jacaerys, who was already looking at you. Although you felt a small twinge of joy, the suddenness of the announcement left you stunned. Your mother's displeasure was immediately evident on her face. Viserys slowly stood and shared his thoughts.

People began to rise and speak, but you couldn’t focus on anything else. You were at a loss for words, unsure of how to feel.

“Sister.” your brother called. “Congratulations on your engagement.” Aemond spoke with a hint of amusement, knowing well that you never saw yourself ending up as a wife solely meant to bear children. But if it was Jacaerys...

“How should I feel?” you asked him.

“Be happy, at least he’s not like our eldest brother, sister.” he replied, surprising you. You expected him to mock or tease you, but instead, he offered you encouragement.

“Do you not resent them anymore?”

“I promised you before they arrived that I wouldn’t do anything to stir up trouble between us.” he replied. “I’m trying.” You raised your glass to toast to your brother's words, appreciating his sincerity.

The music played beautifully, and your mother seemed to have composed herself, while others engaged in lively conversation with those seated around them. Before long, Jacaerys stood and invited Helaena to dance with him. You felt a pang of envy as you watched them together—wasn’t he your betrothed?

“Has Daeron sent any news?” your brother beside you asked.

“He’s been training as usual, more diligently than ever.” you replied. “He asked me to thank you for the new book you sent him.” Although you were speaking to your brother, your eyes remained fixed on your newly betrothed. He was handsome, and the sudden betrothal your father had arranged had left your mind unsettled.

“Are you jealous?” your brother interrupted again. “Shall we dance together like they are?”

Your brother had been acting strange lately, starting from yesterday, today, and even now. Although he had promised, his behavior was beyond what you had expected.

“What do you want, brother?” you asked him seriously. “Are you planning to use me as a tool to hurt them?”

“You’re overthinking, sister.” he replied. “Wouldn’t it be better if I were to make friends with another heir to the Iron Throne?”

“Let’s hope that’s true.” you said, offering him your hand. “Don’t leave me behind. My feet are sore.”

The dinner proceeded smoothly, with everyone seeming to be one big happy family. You hoped this friendship would endure and not be shattered.

You closed the door to your room and hurried over to your writing desk. There were so many things from today that you wanted to record and reflect upon. You thought about the conversation you had with Jace today, your heart pounding at the memory. You hoped he hadn’t noticed. Your face had flushed, and you couldn’t meet his eyes. You knew what this feeling was—you were falling in love with him. How could it be so simple?

Should you write to your twin about this? What advice would he give you? Or perhaps you should share this with Helaena, though she was likely busy with your nieces and nephews. In the end, you decided to jot it down in your personal journal, a simple and safe choice.

After trying to fall asleep in the darkness of your room, you realized it was no use. You couldn’t sleep. Perhaps a walk, like you often did, would help calm your thoughts. Before you knew it, you found yourself in the corridors of the Red Keep. The moon tonight was beautiful, and you stopped to gaze at it from a window, its light bright and close.

“Princess.” Jacaerys' voice startled you, nearly causing you to gasp out loud.

“Prince.” you curtsied, and he bowed in return.

“Are you unable to sleep?” he asked.

“Yes, I couldn’t sleep.”

“You must be worried about our betrothal.” he replied. “I swear on my honor, I will not dishonor you, Princess.”

“I will do the same.” you replied. The two of you stood there, looking at each other, and you found yourself at a loss for words. If it had been anyone else, you would have no trouble striking up a conversation, but with him, you were suddenly too anxious.

“I think we should both return to our rooms, Princess.” he said finally. “If you don’t mind, I’ll escort you back.” You nodded in agreement, and as you led the way, he followed at a slow pace.

When you reached your door, you realized it was time to bid him goodnight. You stopped, turned to face him, and gathered the courage to meet his gaze. His eyes were so beautiful, and you wondered if he could see how red your face was.

“Goodnight, my Prince.”

“Goodnight.” He remained where he stood, not turning to leave. You opened the door to your room and closed it slowly. He would leave after you shut the door, you assumed. Your hand clutched at your chest, feeling your heart hammering as if it would burst out of your body. Your hands were trembling. This must be the beginning of that foolishness you had always heard about.

You were overjoyed when your sister said she would be staying here longer. It meant you could spend more time getting to know your betrothed and spending time with him. The activities you often did alone now had him joining you. You talked about matters of the kingdom, the families allied with yours, the histories of different dragons, or even trivial things.

For you, it was wonderful to spend time with him. There were days when the two of you talked until you fell asleep together. When your mother found out about this, she scolded you intensely, speaking about propriety and how others might perceive it. You were confined to your room for an entire week.

But Jacearys surprised you with the secret passage in your room. You wondered if there were passages like this all over the castle. He used that secret passage to visit you while you were locked in your room. You thought about how much effort he must have put in just to talk to you, and it made you think about him even more, falling in love with him all over again.

“So, how was practice today?” you asked him. “Did Ser Criston bother you again?” You were lying on the bed reading a book while he leaned against the headboard, staring at you.

“He seems to have stopped. Aemond kept him away from us.” he replied. You knew well that Criston didn’t seem to like Rhaenyra or her children, but it wasn’t good to pass that dislike onto others.

You closed your book and slowly sat up, crawling to sit beside him. Jace shifted slightly to give you more room. You rested your head on his shoulder, holding hands. One of his arms draped over your shoulder. Life here must have been hard for him—the stares from everyone, the words he often heard.

“I want to go to Dragonstone.”

“Then you’ll have to marry me and go live there with me.” you said, turning to look at the prince. He smiled slightly.

“And if I don’t marry you? Can’t I just go?”

“Wouldn’t you want us to go together, just the two of us?” Jacaerys leaned closer. You looked at him without blinking, and finally, your lips met slowly. He gently slipped his tongue into your mouth, teasing yours as if to savor every bit of sweetness from you.

After a while, the two of you pulled away, gazing into each other’s eyes before laughing together. Jace leaned in again to kiss your cheek.

Now you know what your desire is from here on out. No longer will you need to sleep to recall your dreams, because now your life feels like a dream, and you’ll be living in it forever.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

No Matter What- Aemond T.

Aemond is in love, and he refused to allow his nephew to have her. He will take her from Jacaerys by any means necessary.

Am I just going to keep writing my fics as if Season 2 didn’t happen at all?

Yeah…it’s very likely, yes🤣🤣

Also, for the person that DM’d me and asked if I have a name in mind for Y/n when I write for Aemond, yes. In my mind when I write, her name is Rhaella, I just think it’s the most beautiful Targaryen name I’ve heard. I also love Visenya but I feel it’s overused. The only other name I would potentially use would be Saera.

She was surprised by her Uncles attitude from the moment she first saw him again.

Y/n and Aemond had been best friends in their childhood. She had climbed onto the back of the Grey Ghost when she was only 5 years old (most people believing that the Dragon knew they were the same when it came to how shy and avoidant they were).

They hadn’t been close up until that point, only being 5 and 6 years old and both being outcasts among their family (though she almost preferred it that way). Y/n had offered to take Aemond with her flying one night after Aegon, Jace and Luke had ridiculed him again and he actually agreed, resting his hand on the nose of a dragon for the first time as Y/n calmed him. Climbing into the saddle and holding onto his niece had been awkward and a bit embarrassing until they were in the air and Aemond knew he was truly born for this.

From then on Y/n offered to take him with her quite often, always after their brothers had bullied one of them again. She comforted him, even once letting Aemond take the reigns and fly Ghost himself (which the pale dragon didn’t like at all sadly and only lasted a few moments), but the fact that she had done it meant the world to him. He promised to take Y/n with him on his dragon as soon as he mounts one, wanting desperately to impress her.

Aemond was Obsessed

Their friendship lasted like that for almost 4 years before that horrible night when Aemond was attacked by her brothers. He had been so excited to tell her about Vhagar, he had actually been running inside to wake her and take her flying like he promised when he was cut off.

She had held his hand from the moment she ran in, trying to comfort him as much as she was able until her mother pulled her away. Aemond raged when she was dragged away from his side but he was held down by Criston Cole from trying to take his Princess back, Daemon carrying the 9 year olds squirming body out and away from him.

As they all left the next morning he tried to find her, Rhaenyra glaring at him as he searched the courtyard and he knew her mother hadn’t let her come and say “goodbye”…that night was the last time he saw her for almost 9 years…

It was the worst thing Rhaenyra could have done. She had made her younger brother desperate, and desperate men do desperate things…he would have her back. No Matter What.

Aemond dreamed about nothing but his niece every single day after, determined to make her his despite the fact that her mother would never betroth her to him. He knew the only way he could make her his wife was to take her and make it the only option, Alicent would most definitely force their wedding very quickly rather than watch the only “legitimate” grandchild of her husband (other than his brother and sisters 3 children) carry a child unwed (as she was Daemons daughter “secretly” but could at least be passed off as not being Harwin Strongs).

When he finally saw her again he felt his breath stolen from his body, she was stunning, the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on. A women now, standing just shorter than Jace as she watched him in his training session with Cole. Aemond fought hard, determined to show her what he had become and he quickly ended the fight with his sword at his trainers throat.

‘Well done my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.’

Aemond rolled his eyes at that. ‘I don’t give a shit about tourneys…nephews. Have you come to train?’ He questioned, looking over the both of them before making eye contact with Y/n who blushed heavily as he did. ‘Niece. It is a pleasure to lay eyes on you again…and you are truly a sight to behold.’ He stepped closer, shoving himself between the Strongs to take her hand in his, lifting it to his lips and looking into her lovely purple eyes. Aemond was comforted to see no fear or disgust on her face, but her beautiful blush was something he wanted to see forever. ‘You are just as gorgeous as I imagined you to be.’ He whispered, leaning close to her ear.

‘Thank you Uncle. You have become ever more handsome, a man grown. The ladies must be fighting tooth and nail for your affections.’ She teased, however before he could respond and insist that he wanted no affections but her own, her bastard brother snatched her hand from his.

‘I would thank you to keep your hands to yourself Uncle, my betrothed should not be touched by anyone but me.’ Jace spoke with a smirk on his face. Anyone with eyes knew Aemond had always been in love with Y/n and his nephew was smug to be able to take any kind of happiness away from him as he always had done.

Aemond composed himself immediately, smiling down at him kindly but Jace could see the rage in his eye, the silent threat that he was giving being clear. ‘I suppose congratulations are in order then.’ And though he said it, he gave none before smiling at Y/n who was then pulled in the opposite direction and out of the courtyard.

‘I do not want to see him touching you again, do you understand me?’ Jace demanded as they got into the castle, Y/n pulling her hand from his angrily.

‘You are not yet my husband brother, don’t you dare order me as if you are. I still have plenty of time to tell mother I would rather be betrothed to anyone but you and that Baela can be Queen by your side one day. I am not an object for you to take possession of!’ And with that she stormed off, Aemond around the corner having heard the whole thing. He knew exactly how to get his girl to be his…though he doubted it would be hard with how his nephew treated his Queen.

‘You should be kinder to your future Queen-‘

‘She is mine, whether she likes it or not. I am to be the King one day, she cannot refuse me.’ Jace joked with Luke who snorted, Aemond turning and leaving the hall. Y/n was his future wife, no matter what he had to do to make sure of it.

After the horrific meeting to attempt to give Driftmark to anyone but Luke he was sadly reestablished as heir thanks to the King and Aemond found himself in a bit of trouble with everyone at dinner after calling his nephews Strong.

All of them were sent to their chambers and he hightailed it back to her chamber, slipping in before his niece and her guard arrived, hiding behind the wardrobe in case anyone came in with her.

‘I am tired Jacaerys, all I want is a good, long sleep. Just leave me be for the night, I will not answer you if you come back! I need no protection from you!’ She snapped as the door opened.

‘If Aemond-‘

‘Aemond is not here! And now you are not here either, go to your own chambers and give me a night of peaceful sleep after all of this Bullshit!’ She slammed the door, locking it instantly and Aemond could feel his cock hardening in his breeches. Something about hearing her reject Jace was a turn on for him in a major way and he wanted to mark her neck up with as many bite marks as possible, he needed to show his nephew who his Princess truly belonged to.

‘That was impressive.’ Aemond spoke, seeing her nearly jump a foot in the air as she gasped. ‘Apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you…I just wanted to see you. I knew your betrothed would not allow you even a moment in my presence.’ Her eyes were slit instantly as he said this.

‘Jace thinks he can control me but I will not let myself be that kind of wife! I am not an object to be owned, to be ordered around in front of his friends to make him look like a strong man or King! I do not want to be his wife or his Queen!’ She snapped and Aemond did his best to look at her softly, wanting her to see his empathy and her eyes widened as she realized what she had done. ‘I am so sorry Kepus! You did not deserve that, I am not angry at you. I am so-‘ (Uncle)

‘Breathe Byka Dārilaros…it is alright. I understand how angry he makes you feel, I hate him as well, remember?’ He teased and she chuckled before stepping forward and not hesitating to wrap her arms around his body, resting her head on his chest. (Little Princess)

‘I missed you so much Kepus…I wanted to write to you but my mother wouldn’t let me. She said it was a betrayal to Luke and that since you didn’t write to me, you clearly wouldn’t care but I-‘

‘I did write to you. I sent letters for months before I received one from my sister telling me to stop, that you did not want to hear from me but I knew that was a lie . There was not a single day that passed that I did not think about how much I missed you…’ Aemond looked down at her, his arms around her to hold her to him, hesitating only a moment as he looked into her soft eyes and pressed his lips to hers.

She surprised him a bit when she didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, her hands moving to hold his shirt tightly as he took her face into his and held her close. Y/n was his everything and he had been craving for this exact moment since he was 6 years old, wanting to kiss her since the moment they first flew together. She will be his and he will keep her close forever, determined to never let anyone touch what is his ever again-especially Jace.

‘You are so perfect…’ he mumbled against her lips before pulling away and resting his forehead on hers. ‘Do you want this? I don’t want to force you into anything you do not desire, my love…however I want you to be mine. I have craved you for so many years and I will cherish the ground you walk on if you will be mine.’ Aemond knew giving her the choice would make the difference in pushing her to do what she wanted even against her mothers wishes.

‘I love you Kepus, I always have…our mothers will never-‘

‘There is a way…My mother will insist upon it if I have already filled you with my son…’ he tried to speak softly, let her know that it is her choice to make. ‘I love you Byka Dārilaros, and I want you to be my wife more than anything. The thought of being forced to marry another turns my stomach however I will never force myself upon you. If you would marry Jace then I will love you from afar…but if you want me then I will make love to you right here and now. I will pleasure you all night long until you are so full of me there is no doubt you carry my son and then I will sleep inside of your pretty little cunt for our family to find come morning…let me love you in every way that he can’t.’ There were tears in her eyes as he finished speaking to her and he moved to wipe them away before she spoke again. Y/n reached up, taking the eyepatch covering his sapphire into her fingers before he caught her wrist awkwardly. No lady had ever seen his face and not been uncomfortable or disgusted by it which is why he always covered it whenever he wasn’t alone in his room or in the library.

‘I would look upon your face and see all that you are…while you fill me with our first child.’ He looked at her, startled for a moment before he released her hand and she pulled the eyepatch off.

‘First of many…I will fill you with as many children as you desire.’ Aemond promised before kissing her again, his hands moving to the back of her dress where he unlaced the corset and pulled it down her arms, lifting her out of the dress and moving to drop her onto the bed. She pulled off her small clothes as she watched him remove his shirt and breeches, leaving him bare and revealing his hard cock that was already leaking. ‘You are so beautiful, my love…tell me that you’re mine.’ Aemond insisted, his hand giving his member a firm stroke.

‘I’m yours Kepus, all yours forever.’ She promised as he crawled over her, kissing his jaw and down his neck sweetly. She was just so precious he couldn’t help the needy feeling in his chest demanding he take her.

‘All mine! Should any man look at you even a moment too long ever again, I will remove their eyes and feed them to the ravens.’ Aemond pushed her legs apart more so that he could settle between them, feeling her wetness on his cock for the first time and nearly cumming on the spot. He gave her a moment to relax herself upon pushing into her however she shocked him once again, moaning like a whore only a moment later prompting him to shove his hand over her mouth. ‘If someone hears you then your guard will come in here and we will be dragged apart. I would hear your lovely moans forevermore once I’ve filled your cunt but for now you must hush.’ She whined but bit her bottom lip hard to keep from making any loud noises. Aemond loved the knowledge that he could make her moan like that, in love with fucking her body already as he thrust up into her roughly. Her nails dug into his shoulders, scratching down his back painfully which sent a rush of pleasure through his belly upon him sucking hard on her throat, biting into her perfect skin quite hard and covering her mouth with a hand once again as she nearly screamed, her pussy tightening around his cock in a way he had never felt before which practically dragged his own end from his body. ‘Gods be good, I’ve never felt anything like that before…you felt good?’ It was an insecure moment of him needing that reassurance and while with anyone else he would have been instantly embarrassed, she nodded, quite dazed it seemed and he knew she didn’t judge him for a moment. ‘Your cunt is a form of blissful ecstasy I did not know was attainable. You are mine now Y/n…say it…’

‘Yours Aemond…all yours…you will be my husband as soon as next week and you will be able to have me anytime and any place you desire. I never thought it could feel like that…I love you Kepus.’ Her words touched him and in that moment Aemond knew that he would never need anyone else in this world again as long as he had Y/n and their future silver haired babies.

‘I love you too Mandianna, I always have. From this night on they will never be able to steal you from me again! You are all mine Y/n…and I will take pleasure in making sure everyone knows it.’ He made his point as he thrust his hard cock up into her once more prompting her sharp intake of breath, nails digging into his forearms before pulling him down to kiss her. (Niece)

Aemond spent the night filling his future wife with as much of his seed as his body held, biting her perfect pale skin everywhere he could reach and ensuring no one would ever be able to argue who she belonged to again. He finally had what he had always wanted, the only things left to do was put a tiara upon her head and meet their children.

The knock on the door was the thing that awakened the both of them the next morning quite early and far too soon considering how many hours Aemond had spent filling his bride…(6 hours). It was frantic and Aemond groaned, pulling Y/n closer into his chest as he was happy to ignore it before her mother shouted.

‘Y/n! You aren’t at breakfast and neither is Aemond! If he is in there with you…!’ She warned and Aemond found the half threat amusing.

‘Aemond! Are you in there?!’ His mother was the one shouting through the door now and he smiled, kissing his soon-to-be-wife’s lips before responding.

‘Good morning mother!’ He responded.

‘You Little Fuck! If you’ve hurt my daughter I swear to all of the Gods!’ Rhaenyra raged. ‘Daemon! Get This Door Open!’ She demanded.

‘He did not hurt me mother!’ Y/n stated just before the first loud hit to the door causing his girl to scream, turning to hide her face into his neck as he sat up. It took 2 more strikes before the door burst open and their mothers entered along with Daemon and Otto. Y/n was covered up to her waist while her upper body was pressed to his leaving only her back exposed.

‘Aemond! What have you done?’ Alicent asked sadly, clearly trying to think of a solution, knowing there was only one in this situation.

‘You all know that we have loved each other since we were children. Did you think that would go away just because you didn’t give her my letters sister?’ Rhaenyra’s eyes widened before she glared at him in a rage.

‘What is he talking about?’ His mother asked.

‘I didn’t want him speaking to her! She will not marry her Uncle like-‘

‘Like you did?’ Alicent deadpanned making the Princess look to her. ‘She will actually marry her Uncle, from this moment they are betrothed-‘

‘My daughter is already betrothed to-‘

‘Not anymore!’ Otto cut her off. ‘From this moment on the Princess Y/n Velaryon is to be wed to Prince Aemond Targaryen. The wedding will take place at the end of the week, we cannot have anyone knowing of these indiscretions when she begins to show as I am assuming she is likely pregnant?’ He asked Aemond who grinned.

‘Oh, most definitely. I’ve left no doubt that she carry’s my son. I was actually planning on filling her with another one before you so rudely broke the door down-‘

‘Do not push your luck Aemond!’ His Grandsire warned.

‘I should remove your head you insolent little shit.’ Daemon growled, Aemond seeing the rage in his eyes.

‘Then your grandchild would be without a father, Uncle. What purpose would that serve except ensuring your daughter hates you?’ Y/n moved her hand to pinch his side making him jump. ‘I’m sorry Byka Dārilaros.’

Aemond could see the surprise at his apology in his mother and Grandsire’s eyes. ‘Maybe this will be a good thing after all.’ Otto considered before turning to leave the room.

‘No more fooling around. Get dressed and get to breakfast. Now.’ With that his mother guided Rhaenyra and Daemon reluctantly out of the room.

‘Can your husband help you get dressed my love?’ Aemond questioned and she kissed his shoulder before biting his neck as he had done to her about 30 times the previous night, the evidence of which was very clear to see all over her chest and breasts. Aemond was proud though, because while she could hide those the 5 marks on her neck were not able to be hidden before breakfast where he was eager for Jace to see them.

They were both dressed 10 minutes later, their hair staying down until after they broke their fast for the day, Aemond leading her down the halls and enjoying the smile on his girls face as they entered the room with their family. He sat her down beside him and watched her fill her plate and eat, clearly hungry from their previous nights activities which filled him with pride at being able to satisfy his wife.

‘What is that?’ A voice demanded and everyone looked up to see Jace pointing at Y/n’s neck.

‘Jace, we will discuss this after we eat. You-‘

‘No!’ He cut his mother off, jumping up from his seat and moving to Y/n’s side in an instant, yanking her hair to the side and looking at her neck. Aemond heard her whimper in pain as he pulled her hair, holding her chin to expose her throat to him and he was instantly up from his chair with his hands on Jace.

‘That’s Enough!’ Rhaenyra shouted before Aemond punched his nephew who nearly flew backwards at the force his fist caused before he moved to grab him again, a voice calling his name through the jumble of people yelling which had his attention immediately.

‘Come eat with me Kepus, please?’ Y/n asked softly and he couldn’t deny her that as she held her hand out. Aemond moved to take it, lifting her onto his lap and sitting to eat, feeding her and feeling proud at providing her what she needs, thoroughly enjoying her feeding him as well.

It seemed that everyone was shocked at Aemond disengaging from the fight but his attention was on his soon to be wife as it should be. ‘We should go for a morning flight after breakfast…let me take you for a ride as I promised, late as the kept promise may be.’ Y/n looked up at him and he could see her surprise which he found adorable.

‘You…you want me to-to ride Vhagar?’ She questioned and he chuckled.

‘Not alone of course but yes, I had wanted to take you up with me the night I mounted her but that clearly didn’t happen. It will be fun, I promise.’ The smile on his girls face was worth everything to him. She was precious and he would keep his wife happy no matter what. If that meant that his nephews and older sister needed to be un-happy, then that was just icing on the cake for him.

He finally took her flying with him later that day, though it made her own dragon quite grumpy and forced her to take Ghost for his own flight before they could go back home. Aemond had finally kept his promise, and had ensured he got exactly what he wanted in the end.

Now all that is left for Aemond to do is figure out how to make Y/n his Queen and fulfill his dream of his wife riding him on the Iron Throne.

That one may take a bit more work, but he would ensure it, No Matter What.

Aemond T. Masterlist

[aphroditelovesu]

Hello. Yandere husband Aegon the Conqueror ?

❝ 🔥 — lady l: I love Aegon and I feel that lacks content for him, so I'm doing my part. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of death and toxic relationships.

❝🔥pairing: yandere!aegon the conqueror x female!reader.

Even though Aegon already had two wives, he still chose to marry you. People often say he married Visenya out of duty, Rhaenys out of desire, and you out of love. But what few knew was how much in love he was with you.

Aegon the Conqueror dedicated his love to you intensely and silently. Amid the challenges of the newly unified kingdom, your presence was his strength. There was no doubt who his favorite wife was.

Some said you were chosen as his third wife as a way to stake a greater claim on Westeros, still fragile after the Conquest. You were a good choice, you came from a good family and you had honor, which was enough for others, but Aegon was in love, he was obsessed.

He fell in love with you quickly, being enchanted by your manner, your personality and your beauty. There was something about you that attracted him and he knew he couldn't let you go. He wanted you to become his wife and so it was done.

Some expected reservations from his sister-wives, but there were none. Visenya and Rhaenys liked you and supported Aegon's choice. The preparations were made and you quickly married him, becoming his third wife, Queen and the one he loved most.

Life with Aegon brought joys and challenges. His obsession flourished even in difficult times, consolidating a unique partnership between you. The court commented on the happiness that emanated from the king when he was at your side, and the union between you strengthened the bonds of the kingdom.

He was a loving and dutiful husband, Aegon would always make sure that you were happy and satisfied and if there was something that bothered you, you should talk to him without hesitation. Your happiness was the priority for him.

Aegon pampers you without limits, bathing you in gold, jewels and silks, everything worthy of a Queen. Your whims and desires were met immediately. If you just wanted to eat cake for breakfast, for example, you would have cake every day.

Your husband always sought your advice, confident in the wisdom and vision you brought, your opinion was always considered the most important. The complicity between you was evident, and although it aroused envy in some, Aegon would not let them harm you.

You played a vital role as the king's advisor and confidant, contributing to the stability of the kingdom. Aegon, in turn, never failed to express his gratitude and admiration for the woman he chose as his Queen. He adored you completely, from head to toe and would make sure you knew that every night.

Most nights, Aegon spent by your side. He shared a room with you, unusual for Kings, but he wasn't just any King. He loved you more than anything and wanted you to know that. He loved sleeping cuddled with you, your legs tangled together and arms wrapped around you. Aegon feels at peace by your side.

The harmony between you, Visenya, and Rhaenys solidifies the strength of the Triple Crown. The three of you, the Three Queens, work together to overcome political and social challenges, uniting the kingdom under the symbol of the dragon. Your presence, as the beloved Queen, triggers a period of stability and prosperity.

Aegon is extremely overprotective and possessive over you and this only got worse after Rhaenys' death. He knows he would go crazy if something happened to you and he can't allow anything to happen. He's suffocating and will be breathing down your neck for as long as he can and will kill anyone if they cross you, if they cross him.

You are the only person who can truly control him and Aegon will be happy to let you do so. There is no doubt about who holds all the power over him. Aegon would do anything for you, he would kill everyone for you, slaughter anyone for you. Yours and yours alone.

Once Rhaenys died, Aegon's obsession only grew stronger, Visenya's as well. They lost someone important and not all the destruction caused is enough to make up for it, they couldn't lose you too. Aegon cannot lose you. May the gods forbid, but if something were to happen to you... The world will know the true fury of the dragon.

Your love with Aegon not only stood the tests of time but blossomed into a deep connection that inspired songs and legends. In the halls of the Red Keep, where the flames danced, it was clear that your union was more than political; it was a bond intertwined by the most darkest feelings. It was a shame the bards didn't know about his obsession.

Aegon loves you, he truly does, and although he may be consumed by jealousy and anger, he would never lay a finger on you. He respects you too much to humiliate you in such a way. After all, you are his wife and his Queen and his favorite.

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (10/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: loss of virginity, dubcon, sex content, unprotected sex, oral sex, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

"Where are you?" She asked, looking down at the large family tree spread out in front of her face, lying comfortably between his legs, leaning against his hard torso. They were both bare; to her surprise, she quickly got rid of the feeling of embarrassment when he exposed her body.

The evenings in King's Landing were hot, so they were both relieved to be lying in the cool evening breeze on his bed, the back of her head resting against his shoulder. She heard him hum under his breath as he pointed his finger at one of the last lines which, indeed, was signed with his name.

Aemond Targaryen.

"And you are here." He added, moving his finger sideways to another line.

"Unbelievable." She said surprised, feeling for some reason joy and pride that she was included in this great lineage, somehow thinking that since her father had forgotten her, so had everyone else.

"You are a Targaryen. This is your heritage as well." He said lightly, leaning in, his full lips placing a soft, gentle kiss on her bare shoulder.

She swallowed hard, feeling pain at his words.

"My father would disagree with you." She said regretfully, tracing a line with her finger down from herself, to her father, to his father, and then to his grandfather.

She blinked, seeing that almost every one of them had married their sisters.

"Good gods." She muttered, going lower and lower, seeing that the pattern repeated surprisingly often.

She heard him chuckle behind her, his arms embracing her tighter around the waist.

"Brothers love their sisters. It's natural." He murmured, the tip of his long nose sinking into her soft cheek, his free hand slowly rising higher to squeeze her plump bosom.

He loved touching and looking at her breasts – his hands and mouth kept returning to them. He wouldn't let her cover them in his presence – they were clearly the most perfect example of femininity to him.

Their shape, their softness, the way they melted between his fingers in the morning when they slept in each other's embrace and he involuntarily sought them out with his hand made him purr like a cat.

She was also involuntarily learning other things that he clearly enjoyed with each passing day, though he never spoke of it aloud.

When they were outside, he liked her hair to be braided the way Visenya wore it according to legends, when her body was framed by a riding, leather garment, emphasising her girlish curves.

It stimulated his imagination, but also gave him a sense of closeness by the fact that they looked so similar.

As long as they were among other people, she never approached him or spoke to him first – even when she was practicing archery in the same courtyard where he and Criston Cole were sparring, she didn't disturb them.

She knew he didn't wish it – the example of Lady Floris had shown her what happened when someone kept invading his space and forced him into a proximity he wasn't comfortable with.

She felt his gaze on her, saw in his healthy eye that he was thinking only of what he had done to her during the night and what he would do to her in the evening, that he would summon her again, unable to deny himself the warmth of her body in his bed.

The situation changed completely when she crossed the threshold of his chamber and they were left alone behind a closed door.

He liked to sink his hands into her curls, so her hair had to be loose, on her body only her nightgown and a thin robe – he knew that no one but him had ever seen her in such a negligee, slowly slipping off all parts of her attire, leaving her bare and exposed at last.

It wasn't long before he was joining her, though then he was always vigilant and tense – most notably when she pulled off his eye patch. He watched her then with a stony face, as if for some reason he was afraid to see a smirk of mockery or anything else that would be proof that she was deceiving him, she, however, was entranced by the beautiful blue sapphire shining in his eye socket in the candlelight.

She loved untying the black ribbon from his long white hair.

"– you look like a demigod –" She whispered once without thinking as they lay side by side on his bed, looking at each other, panting heavily after their intense closeness.

She saw that he froze, his eye grew large in disbelief, his lips pressed into a thin line in shame.

"– what do you mean? –" He asked, lying on the bedclothes on his stomach as she did, their heads lying so close together that their noses were almost touching.

She lifted her hand and combed gently through strands of his smooth hair.

"– when your beautiful snow-white hair is loose – you look like some kind of heavenly being with your bright eyes – your face and muscular figure remind me of sculptures of ancient warriors carved in marble –" She muttered in shame, wondering what had occurred to her to say such a thing, her fingers ran over his cheekbone, her gaze fixed on his jaw.

She heard him swallow loudly, looking at her in a way she rarely saw, only when he was surprised and completely vulnerable – his pupil was large, his gaze warm, his expression gentle, his full lips parted slightly in disbelief.

She moved closer to him and cuddled her face into his shoulder, feeling like a fool after what she had said, thinking that he must surely have felt embarrassment at her words, that he would never let her stay in his bed again.

He, however, embraced her and snuggled her into his body, stroking her soft dark curls, her back and her buttocks with his broad hands, gently kissing the top of her head again and again.

He answered her nothing, but that night he did not allow her body to move away from his even a little, keeping her locked in his embrace – she smiled involuntarily feeling that each time he awoke he checked that she was covered in fur and brushed her shoulder with his fingertips, returning to sleep.

Although she had to get through the thick, high wall he had created around his heart each evening, their mornings were sweet and tender.

She was always awakened by the touch of his soft, moist lips on her forehead, his thumb stroking her cheek, his warm breath indicating that he had been awake for some time but wasn't going to get up for a while yet, wanting to enjoy her closeness.

"– hāedar –" He murmured at last, running his hand down her bare back, gliding his fingers as if he were treading water with them.

"– no – just a little longer –" She whispered pleadingly, and he merely hummed under his breath and cuddled her tighter into his chest, allowing her to remain in his embrace.

She usually left before the servants brought him his morning meal – she knew that he would probably let her eat with him if she so wished, it even seemed to her that a part of him would enjoy it, however, she did not want to cross the line.

There was more gossip about them than both of them would have liked anyway.

The fact that news was spreading through the Red Keep like the wind she saw in the displeased look Criston Cole turned towards her as she passed him in the corridor.

"Is the Prince hurting you, my Lady? He is frightening and cold in manner, I am afraid to look at him." Said Lysa, weaving her hair into a braid, her riding attire on her body as it was her turn to fly on patrol around King's Landing.

She involuntarily smiled at her words, feeling a pleasant pulsing between her thighs at the memory of what she had done to him the night before.

The sweet, boyish moan he had let out when he had come deep in her mouth.

She was convinced that she would eventually vomit or suffocate, shocked by the sensation and how much pleasure it gave him, his gaze full of disbelief and fulfilment, his tender arms that embraced her, his lips kissing her forehead.

Gōntan nyke ōdrikagon ao, zaldrītsos?

Did I hurt you, little dragon?

Little dragon.

She liked it when he called her that.

Little dragon, little sister, sweet girl.

He did it to reward her, when he wanted to be tender and gentle, when, satisfied and fulfilled, he fell asleep beside her in a warm bed.

"He doesn't hurt me. On the contrary, I enjoy the time spent in his company. Unlike Ser Criston Cole, who, it seems to me, despises me." She said lightly, casting her a meaningful glance in the reflection of the mirror.

Lysa blinked and furrowed her brow.

"Ser Criston should despise himself above all. He and the Queen only pretend to be humble and full of virtue by day, spending all their nights with each other." She said disapprovingly, and she involuntarily burst out laughing.

"How do you know such things?"

Lysa smiled mockingly.

"Servants know everything, my Lady. You at least don't pretend to be someone you're not." She said and paused as the door to her chamber opened suddenly.

Prince Aemond stepped inside with a confident, lazy stride, erect and proud, not even bestowing a single glance on Lysa.

"Leave us." He commanded, towering over her figure seated in a chair.

Lysa bowed to him, pale, and left quickly without a word.

She blinked, looking straight into his face without fear, waiting for him to convey to her what he had come to her with.

"Today I will be patrolling the skies. We have received reports that a dragon has been seen nearby. It will be safer if me and Vhagar check it first." He said calmly, and she nodded, thinking he didn't need to explain himself to her or come in his own person to tell her this.

He could have simply sent his servant to her.

But he decided otherwise, and she didn't mind.

"Very well. So I will stay and repeat what you taught me last night." She said softly, smiling involuntarily when she saw that his pupil had turned dark, his lips parted slightly at the memory of what she had done to him.

He knew she had teased him.

He took a step towards her, and then another, making her have to lift her head higher to look at his face. She swallowed quietly, feeling a pleasant shiver run through her warm cunt as he ran his thumb over her cheekbone, looking at her as if he was thinking about something.

"Alone? How will you know you're not making the same mistakes? Who will guide you?" He asked softly, cocking his head to the side, his breath deeper and louder.

She looked down and saw that even though the material of his tunic covered that part of his body, his erection had swollen all over, forming a bulge.

She swallowed hard as she saw his hands slide down to his belt, which he undid with a loud click and then did the same to the buckles of his tunic, causing her to breathe louder and louder, feeling both terror and arousal at the same time.

"– do not fret – easy – I acted a little exaggerated last night – you surprised me –" He gasped, untying his breeches with his long fingers, releasing his hard, swollen manhood.

It seemed absurd to her, but his words soothed her.

For some reason, she knew he regretted letting his emotions take over.

She leaned in, gently grasping the base of his throbbing cock, the skin of it soft and delicate, placing a warm, gentle kiss on the pink head of it.

He sighed, sinking the fingers of his hands into her hair, holding her close to his lower abdomen, rubbing his length against her face – she slid her tongue out, running the tip of it over the skin of his fat erection, and he swallowed loudly, trying not to make any humiliating sound.

She closed her eyes, concentrating on his scent, thinking in the back of her mind that he had taken a bath before he came to her – she felt the pleasant, warm throbbing of her womanhood coming to the satisfying conclusion that he had planned this.

He was unable to last into the evening.

"– mmm – yes – just like that – take your time –" He whispered, as if how gentle, slow and tender her caresses were gave him even more pleasure, the thought that she wasn't doing this out of obligation, that she wasn't disgusted by him or despised him.

No.

Her feelings for him were complicated, but deep.

She opened her eyes as her lips traveled up his erection, squeezing it at the root with lazy, sure strokes from which it hardened like rock – she met his eyes, his gaze hot and misty, his lips parted wide in an exasperated breath.

He wanted it, she could feel it in the soft roll of his hips, begging wordlessly for her to let him inside her.

She closed her eyes and spread her mouth wide, leaning lower – she heard his loud sigh as the tip of his length hit the back of her throat. His fingers clenched tighter in her hair, responding to her movements as she began to suck on his manhood, following his advice breathing loudly through her nose in an attempt to control her gag reflex.

His hips began to force his erection deep between her moist lips with slow, steady thrusts, as if he wanted to savour what he was just looking at, her tongue trailing lazily over the delicate structure of his manhood full of his pulsing veins.

"– yes – oh, gods, hāedar –" He exhaled, tilting his head back, speeding up involuntarily with a loud grunt of delight, his thick cock throbbing all over in her mouth, disappearing between them again and again with loud clicks of her saliva.

She could have hurt him, she could have bitten him, squeezed him harder and caused him pain, humiliated him, destroyed him as a lover and a man.

But she didn't.

She was wet.

Her hand began to stroke the base of his manhood harder when she felt it begin to pulse aggressively deep in her throat, clearly close to fulfillment.

"– fuck – fuck, don't stop, don't stop –" He muttered, panting loudly, chasing his peak, his hips with sharp, fast thrusts slamming between her swollen, wet lips with her moan of exertion.

She felt tears run down her cheeks, one of her hands clenched on his cock and the other on the material of his tunic, thinking that she would endure this, that she would give him what he desired and fulfill his fantasy.

"– y-yes – yes, gods, swallow, swallow, swallow –" He commanded with a loud groan of pleasure, and she felt his seed spill over her tongue – this time she knew what to expect and immediately swallowed his spend, and then again and again, breathing hard through her nose, feeling her heart pounding like mad.

His release was sticky and slightly salty, like nothing she'd ever tasted before.

It tasted like sin.

His hips stilled between her lips, his half-hard manhood throbbing greedily deep in her mouth while they both breathed hard, trying to calm themselves. She heard him swallow hard and then he gently slid his length out of her with a loud smack.

She didn't know why she tightened her hands on his back and hugged herself to his stomach, why she felt warmth when he froze and then embraced her slowly, snuggling her into him, stroking her hair with his fingers.

"– I haven't wasted a drop this time –" She cooed, smiling with amusement and she heard him snort with laughter, surprised apparently by her directness and the fact that his approach didn't scare her at all.

"– indeed – I'm afraid I'm going to make more use of those moist lips – and in return –" He gasped and didn't finish, running his fingertips over her bare neck making her leaking, twitching cunt pulsate around nothing.

"– I'm wet –" She whispered and felt his manhood respond before he could react in any way, throbbing hard, pushing between her breasts.

"– how much? –" He breathed out, clamping his fingers down on her flesh, as if her words meant he couldn't just leave it like that.

"– very much, lēkia – my womanhood is all soaked and pulsing with pain –" She mumbled, snuggling into him tighter, feeling her nipples harden all over at her own words.

In a moment, he lifted her from her seat and pushed her onto the table, forcing her to lie down on it – it wasn't a comfortable position, but she didn't think much of it when she spread her thighs in front of him and let his hands undo the ties of her breeches.

He leaned over her, looking down at her with his lips parted in lust, his gaze dark and filled with something that both terrified and attracted her at the same time – she moaned involuntarily, writhing before him and as he rested one hand against her head and slid the other under the material of her trousers, sinking his fingers into her leaking, swollen cunt.

"– quiet – good gods – so wet just from sucking my cock – you have no fucking shame –" He hissed coldly, and she threw her head back as his fingertips immediately pushed against her quivering slit, invading her insides, hitting her sweet spot again and again with aggressive, sharp thrusts.

"– oh gods, oh gods, ah, lēkia, yes –" She whimpered, clamping her hand on his arm wanting more, more, harder.

"– shut the fuck up –" He growled through clenched teeth, quickening his pace – she saw out of the corner of her eye, looking down, that his manhood was thick and hard again, sticking out from between the fabric of his breeches.

"– lēkia – help me – save me –" She mewled, feeling her hot, fleshy walls begin to tighten around his fingers, his sigh of satisfaction and desire making her feel that she was close, so close.

"– come on – soak my fingers – please your brother –" He breathed out and she came with a loud, girlish cry of delight, feeling tears of relief run down her face as wonderful waves of fulfilment shook her body, a pleasant tingling in her fingertips, her lips, her nipples and her throbbing, greedy cunt.

"– that's it – easy now – easy –" He hummed, just looking at her, holding his two fingers deep inside her, focusing on the way her warm flesh pulsed around them, soaking his whole hand.

She knew he would leave; she knew he had to, and perhaps it wasn't his desire at all but still the way his fingers slid out of her body, his look turned away as he knotted his breeches testifying that he was back in the fortress of his mind made her feel an uncomfortable ache in her heart.

"Come to my chamber tonight, as usual." He said, forcing himself to be indifferent, and left, leaving her lying on the table.

She closed her eyes and exhaled loudly, for some reason feeling tears under her eyelids.

She covered her face with her hand and burst into silent sobs.

Who was she?

His whore?

His lover?

His pet?

His object?

His whim?

She couldn't decide.

Whatever she did she would not be his sister.

Not really.

She swallowed hard and breathed deeply, wiping the warm wetness from her cheeks, trying to calm herself, thinking it didn't matter.

She was what he wanted her to be.

Nothing more.

Just when she was deciding she didn't care, the evening came, and then the night, and with it his hungry mouth sunk into her throbbing cunt, his tongue thrusting again and again deep inside her, building her way to her fulfilment.

His face above hers, his sapphire and eye fixed on her, soft strands of his hair teasing her cheeks before he leaned lower and his lips clung to hers in a sweet, soft, wet kiss.

They lay on their sides facing each other, cuddling their bodies into each other's in a tender, thirsty embrace, their lips finding each other in new, deep, soft caresses almost as if they cared for each other, almost as if they missed each other, almost as if they were happy.

Almost.

His broad hand ran over her hair and face, the tips of his fingers trailing over her cheekbone, jaw and neck, his gaze fixed on her, his lips slightly parted.

"– aōha laesi issi hae zōbrie hae lī hen iā myrdys (your eyes are as dark as those of a doe) – gevie (beautiful) –" He whispered, and she felt a squeeze in her heart and burning tears under her eyelids.

Don't do this to me, she thought.

Don't give me hope.

She snuggled into the hollow of his neck, drawing in the air loudly, not wanting him to see the tears running down her cheeks, and he simply kissed her bare shoulder, enclosing her in his embrace.

"– ȳdra limagon daor, zaldrītsos – aōha lēkia iksis kesīr –" He whispered, but his words only made her whoop with her own tears.

Do not cry, little dragon.

Your brother is here.

Gods, how she wished she could love him.

But she couldn't.

She couldn't offer him her heart because she knew he would crush it the moment he ripped it from her chest.

And then she unintentionally told him his mother's secret and saw his real face for the first time.

His tears, his despair, his figure curled up as if he were a infant in her arms.

She was horrified by how vulnerable he was.

How fragile he was.

She realised that the rider of the greatest dragon in the world was a scared little boy.

Some part of her wanted to protect him.

When the King summoned her to a meeting of the Small Council she wondered what had happened – she guessed it had something to do with Cole's and their army's march on Harrenhal, praying that it would turn out that his brother had told him everything, as she had requested.

As she stepped inside, her one-eyed cousin gave her a quick glance, a serenity in his healthy eye.

They both knew that she would spend this night in his bed too.

"What is this important matter that could not wait any longer?" The Queen Mother asked, and everyone's gaze turned to the King.

Aegon grunted and nodded, spreading himself comfortably in his chair at the head of the table.

"I wish to relieve our subjects who live in hunger. This fucking blockade has gone on for too long and I have decided to take measures to remedy it. Greyjoys are tactically avoiding choosing sides in this conflict, and only their fleet could face the Velaryons. In such situations, things are usually resolved through marriage. Lord Greyjoy has two sons, Toron and Rodrick, who are looking for a suitable candidate to marry. My mother and I believe that our beautiful cousin and her dragon will meet all of their father's requirements."

She felt her heart stop for a moment as she looked at him dully, not believing that this was really happening.

My mother and I believe that our beautiful cousin and her dragon will meet all of their father's requirements.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

Here was her home.

Here, with him.

Alicent looked at her son, who was as shocked as she was, his eye and mouth wide open in panic.

Help me, she thought in her head, feeling her body begin to tremble.

Protect me.

"You knew it would end like this. Your irresponsible behaviour forced us to take the right steps." Queen Alicent said, and she clenched her hands into fists.

You are fucking your guard.

You're as much a whore as I am.

She swallowed hard and looked at her king-cousin, feeling her eyes glaze over with tears.

"– here is my home, my King – please –"

"It would happen sooner or later. Better sooner, given the rumours that reach our ears about where you've been spending the last nights. My brother did not deny it, conversing with me today, that he is taking advantage of your…kindness. I want to put an end to this sinful practice." He interrupted her and she was already about to answer him, but they were interrupted by another, familiar voice.

"No." Her lēkia said. "She is a Targaryen. 'Tis I, as your younger brother, who, by all rights, have precedence to her hand."

She is a Targaryen.

'Tis I, as your younger brother, who, by all rights, have precedence to her hand.

Good gods, he wanted to marry her.

He wanted to marry her to protect her, so that she would not lose her home or him.

I will care for you, and your place will always be by my side.

Aegon only smiled at his words.

"You can bed whomever you want, brother. But it is I, as King and her protector, who will decide who she marries, and sooner Vhagar will fit into the Dragon's Pit than I'll give you her hand." He said, causing heavy tears to run down her cheeks one by one.

Why?

"Why?" Asked her cousin at the same moment in a way that made her feel a squeeze in her heart, his voice breaking as if he was really in pain, his eyebrows arched in despair.

"Good gods. Since when can the Kingdom afford marriages out of the need of the heart? Your subjects are starving. This agreement can make us break the blockade. Are your desires more important than the sake of the Realm?" Aegon sneered, and she burst into a loud sobs, hiding her face in her hands.

They will send her away.

She will lose everything again.

She'll be a nobody again.

She will become another man's toy.

"My decision is final. I will have the crow sent to the Iron Islands with our generous offer later today. That is all."

Her lēkia came to her chamber despite the fact that the evening had not yet dawned and she was always the one to visit him – she threw herself into his arms and cried out loud, overcome by complete hysteria, his hands clamped on her body.

"– no – please, don't let him do it, don't send me away, don't send me away, don't send me away –" She begged him and heard him swallow hard, his lips placing warm, tender kisses on her face.

"– shhh – shhh, sweet girl – I won't –" He assured her.

"– you're lying – you're going to sell me, you're going to abandon me like he did –" She sobbed, choking on her own tears, tightening her fingers on his back.

Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me.

She sighed as he grabbed her by the hair and gently tilted her head back, forcing her to look at him.

"What did I tell you? Back then, when we were lying under the stars. What did I promise in return for you taming a dragon?" He asked quietly, and she swallowed hard, looking at him with big eyes.

"– that my place will always be by your side – that you will protect me – that I will be your little sister –" She mumbled out with difficulty, and he closed her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers, exactly as he had done then.

"– and you are –" He hissed, his fingers clamping in her hair. "– you are fucking mine –"

You are fucking mine.

For the first time, it was he who stayed in her chamber – they just lay together in her bed, taking off all their clothes beforehand and kissed, stroking their naked bodies with their hands.

She fell asleep in his embrace drenched in tears.

She didn't believe him.

She did not believe a word he said.

She knew he was just telling her what she wanted to hear, so that she wouldn't panic and run to her father, changing sides at the last moment.

During the night she dreamt that despite her cries and pleas he had stabbed a dagger into her heart, telling her that after the war was over she had become a threat to him, that she and her dragon were no longer necessary to him.

"Did you really think I would let you live?" he asked, and she awoke with a cry of despair, clutching at her heart, on which she clasped her hands.

"– gods – what is it? – what happened? –" She heard his sleepy muttering beside her, his hand touched her shoulder, and she pulled away from him as if burned, thinking that he really wanted to do this to her.

He really wanted to kill her.

He looked at her with big eyes, the pain of rejection in his gaze, as she pulled away from him despite him extending his hand to her.

"– breath, hāedar – a bad dream? –" He asked and she nodded, whooping, unable to catch her breath.

"– yes –" She mumbled out.

He swallowed hard, making a renewed attempt, this time touching her calf, stroking it reassuringly, and she didn't move away.

It was only a dream.

"– Daemon? –" He asked further, and she shook her head.

"– you –" She mumbled, his eye big in shock. "– you stabbed me in the heart – and asked if I really thought you would let me live –"

She mouthed with difficulty and burst into sobs, hiding her face in her hands.

She heard him freeze in disbelief, breathing loudly, his hand clamped down on her ankle.

"– gods, hāedar – no – no, come here –" He muttered, grabbing her arm, and she shook her head, wanting to pull away from him.

"– please – don't deceive me anymore – we both know that when this is over you will kill me –"

"– no –" He exhaled, pressing his forehead against hers, clasping his fingers in her hair. "– I wanted to do it – then, in the Vale – but I wasn't able to – I won't hurt you – after the war you'll stay by my side – as you are now –" He gasped out, pressing his lips, swollen with emotion to hers in loud, aggressive, desperate kisses.

"– warming your bed while you're married? –" She breathed out into his throat, responding to his caresses, melting with him into one in greedy, passionate dance of their slick tongues, their hands enclosing them in their tight embrace.

"– you are the one I will marry –" He growled, as if her words enraged him, turning her onto her back, his knee forcing her aggressively to spread her thighs apart.

They both sighed and froze when she felt the tip of his swollen cock push against her throbbing slit.

"– A-Aemond –" She mumbled out terrified and aroused, feeling the movement of his hips push his hard erection deeper into her with their loud, surprised moans.

She felt she struggled to catch her breath, stretched to the limit on his throbbing manhood, strangely filled, at his mercy.

Her hands clenched on his naked, muscular arms as he lay on top of her and pressed her to the bed, her plump breasts pressed against his torso, the fat head of his cock deep inside her.

"– I can't take it anymore –" He breathed out, and she whimpered, tilting her head back, feeling him thrust deeper and deeper into her, pushing against something inside her that made her feel discomfort and stinging pain. "– I crave you –"

He said and covered her mouth with his hand when finally with one, violent push he ripped something deep inside her, making her squirm in pain, tears of exertion and horror running down the sides of her face, her whole body quivering.

Gods, he had taken her maidenhood.

If part of her had wanted this for so long, why was she so terrified now?

"– shhh – shhh, little sister, the worst is behind us –" He exhaled tenderly, pulling his hand away from her mouth, allowing her to take a deep breath.

"– I'm scared –" She mumbled in a voice trembling with fear and his eyebrows arched in pain at her words.

He made no movement, looking at her as if worried and concerned, stroking her cheek with his fingers, trying to soothe her, his swollen manhood throbbing hard deep inside her.

"– do you want me to stop? – I will if you want me to – forgive me –" He whispered at last in a voice breaking with shame, as if he was horrified by what he had done and how he had achieved it.

She swallowed quietly and shook her head, thinking that if he did this, something would end between them – he would feel rejected and not want to touch her again, and she needed him, craved him and what he was giving her.

He sighed, pressing his face against hers, kissing her plump, hot cheek with some kind of gratitude, as if he appreciated her effort, understanding that she was doing this for him.

"– don't be afraid, zaldrītsos – we'll do it slowly – I won't hurt you –" He assured her, stroking her head as if she were a small child, his forehead pressed against hers.

She sighed as he gently slid out of her before sinking unhurriedly back deep into her body, making a sound stuck in her throat – this experience, of another body deep inside her, filling her to the brim, was so foreign and strange that she didn't know how she should react or what to feel.

He pulsed aggressively inside her and he was hard – a quiet moan rippled out of her throat each time he opened her wide again and again on the thick part of his cock with quiet clicks of her wetness – she closed her eyes as she felt him begin to hit the sweet spot he always sought with his fingers with each thrust, and the first waves of pleasure flowed along her spine like a tingle.

"– ah –" She mewled, opening her eyes, meeting his heated gaze, their breaths heavy and raptured – she dared to let go of his shoulders and slide her hands down his back, to his buttocks, clamping her fingers on them, emboldening him to move inside her faster.

"– does it hurt? –" He breathed out, thrusting into her a little more confidently, stroking her hot face, wet with tears, with his thumb, kissing the tip of her nose again and again, brushing her puffy lips with his own.

"– n-no – not anymore – but – how should it look? – how have you done it with other women? –" She gasped in a trembling voice, and he stopped moving, looking at her with his mouth wide open.

"– do you want to see for yourself? –" He asked, and she nodded.

"– fuck me –" She whispered.

Fuck me.

She gasped and closed her eyes, throwing her head back when he pounded aggressively into her core with a throaty groan of pleasure, as if he himself was surprised at how pleasurable it was, slamming into her with loud, sticky splats of their bodies against each other.

He moved inside her so fast that she could only spread her thighs wider, crossing them over his sweaty back, their moans pathetic and high-pitched as he hit the same wonderful spot deep inside her tight cunt with each push, himself clearly taking immense satisfaction from this wet, intimate act.

Their hands clenched helplessly on their bodies as their hips began to meet – she felt that what he was doing to her dulled her to pain, instead arousing tension in her loins that grew and grew in her lower abdomen, making her leak all over, soaking his cock with every sharp thrust he made.

"– fucking mine –" He hissed through clenched teeth, locking her moans between his lips, which he pressed against hers in an aggressive kiss – she felt his tongue invade between her teeth, repeating the movements of his hips, forcing itself deep into her throat just as his swollen erection burst between her fleshy, throbbing walls.

She was unable to take a breath between his one thrust and the next, panting hard along with him, her core slick and warm, despite her initial resistance accepting him now with ease.

He pressed his fingers against her bare skin, pounding into her with low grunts of pleasure so fast that he no longer slid out of her, his gaze fixed on their joined bodies.

"– vok syt nyke (perfect for me) – ao se aōha byka orvorta (you and your little cunt) –" He praised her, and she spasmed in euphoria as she felt something approaching – she seemed to howl his name as the aggressive, overpowering pleasure shook her body, loosening her completely, pulling a sigh of relief from her throat, tears of emotion and exertion rolling down her red cheeks.

"– oh gods – oh gods, yes, yes, yes, hāedar –" He gasped out and closed his eye, coming so hard that he cried out along with her, a convulsion shaking his body, and then she felt something warm spill inside her in waves.

His seed.

He came inside her.

Good gods, she thought, lying with closed eyes completely without strength, her hands placed numbly on either side of her head.

She sighed as his body fell against hers, their breaths heavy and hitched, their bodies hot and sweaty, his half-soft manhood still pulsing deep inside her.

It was such an intimate sensation, so strange and sticky – two bodies being one, him, filling her to the brim.

"– I will take you as my wife as soon as I return from the battlefield – I promise –" He breathed out into her ear, and she closed her eyes and swallowed hard, wondering why he was saying that.

"– your brother will never agree to this –" She whispered, feeling that she was a different person now.

She was no longer a maiden.

She twisted restlessly in her place hearing that his silence answered her, his face nestled against her temple, the tip of his nose sinking into her cheek before he whispered the words into her ear as if he was telling her his secret.

"– leave it to me –"

[targaryen-dynasty]

SEMPITERNAL. (5/5)

Dad!Maegor Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, p in v, breeding kink, slight praise kink, kinda medieval daddy kink (?), size kink, lactation kink, lactating, pregnancy, pregnant sex

WORDS: 4.3 K

NOTES: Precious Delights comes to an end with this. I‘m a bit sad, because I really started to love the series, but I think I've managed to end it in a good way. Thanks to everyone that joined me on this journey.

It was going to be a day of revelry. The construction of the Red Keep had been completed, and your husband found it fitting to throw a feast in celebration for those who had taken part in it. 

Taking on a fatherly aura the moment your twins took their first breaths, Maegor didn’t want the festivities to start without his precious family present, even though you were meant to depart for your chambers once they started to indulge themselves in bawdier things. 

“You have to sit still if you want Mama to finish the braid quickly,” you warned the little girl sitting in front of you, though there was no sharpness to your tone, knowing you could not expect your daughter to sit still for so long. She was just three summers old after all, and just as excited about the feast as everybody else. 

Your own flowing locks loosely cascaded down your back and shoulders, not combed and unbraided as you had been taking care of your children the whole morning, often taking their care into your own hands as they were a blessing from the Gods above. And, while Visenya was clad in a black dress that once belonged to you when you were around the same age, your swollen curves still were concealed by a white nightgown. 

The raspy chuckle you heard, as your little girl didn’t remain still long enough for you to finish the task properly, prompted you to turn your head towards your husband, sitting in a stool not too far away while the barber tended to his hair and neatly trimmed beard. 

You raised an eyebrow in innocent enquiry at the sound, which briefly changed into something different while your eyes flickered over his frame. He was dressed, but barely. His cloak, and most pieces of his wardrobe, still were draped over a chair across the room from where he sat. His torso was exposed from the waist up, covered only by the leather breeches he wore. 

Maegor had a grin on his lips – entirely different to the expression he usually wore around servants and maids. In the confines of your chambers, he often lowered his guard, not too concerned about what others thought was proper. But in the presence of other people, he was always focused on remaining harsh and cold, wanting to display his dominance and power. 

“Have you been at this all morning?” Maegor asked, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes trailed over your body just like yours had done before. A hint of nervousness filled your veins, and you scolded yourself internally for your thoughts to stray towards things you should not be thinking at that moment. 

Not bothering to hide the blush that covered your cheeks, you finally replied. “Yes, I started at first light, not long after you left. I was hoping to finish before sundown, but this little one…,” you emphasized the word, causing your daughter to glance over her shoulder, flashing her father a big smile, “... has other ideas.”

You continued to braid her hair, trying to stop the braid from becoming too tight whilst also keeping the little princess’ fidgeting at bay. The barber was done trimming Maegor’s beard at this point, packing his utensils and scurrying off at once. 

“You would think that at three she would be more disciplined,” you sighed, smiling softly at your daughter. “But she takes after you.” Briefly pressing your lips into a thin line, you wondered if you had overindulged yourself in the bantering the moment the words slipped past your lips, and if Maegor knew you were just joking. Partially, at least. 

Visenya was the spitting image of your husband in more ways than one. Not when it came to the looks, as she was taking after you in that, but her rambunctious spirit was most definitely one of the attributes she shared with him. Aerion, however, was a different story. His looks resembled Maegor’s more and more with each passing day, while he had inherited your gentle presence. 

As Maegor chuckled, your frayed nerves calmed again. “You might have been better off dressing yourself before attempting to braid her hair,” he jested. 

“And I thought you might have helped, instead of sitting there and making witty comments,” you replied, glancing at Maegor, and trying to disguise your slight frustration as playfulness, directing your husband to your current predicament. 

You knew you couldn’t expect the King to take care of his children, not on an important day like this, but you also knew that Maegor more often than not had deferred his duties in the past in order to bond with the twins. 

Not wanting to admit defeat, you continued to braid your daughter’s hair, fighting against her lack of patience, and trying to finish before she kicked the entire braid off her head. Eventually, you were successful, pulling the braid into a bun behind little Visenya’s head. 

Maegor rose from his seat, and walked over to where you sat behind your daughter. He focused his attention on her, admiring her and your work for a moment, a soft sigh escaping him as he scooped her up into his arms. 

You smiled at the sight, your heart swelling in your chest, more so as you watched the gentleness with which he handled her. In a feeble attempt, Visenya tried to escape his bear hug, grumbling slightly as he snuggled her head and smelt her hair. It was the same as whenever you did it, but something in your children’s scents was just too intoxicating. 

Tilting his head back, Visenya’s little hands grazed over his beard, seemingly enjoying the feeling of the coarse hairs under her fingers just as much as you did, before she placed them at the sides of his thick neck for stability. 

He smiled softly at your daughter, a smile that scarcely graced his features when looking at you. It was gentle and loving, and whenever his eyes met yours, his expression was tinted with desire and longing. 

“Does Mama not know that your Papa is a skilled swordsman, and not a hairdresser?” Maegor asked your daughter in a playful tone, swaying her in his arms and pressing his lips to her temple. She was giggling uncontrollably, barely comprehending what he said, clearly keening at his affection and attention. 

When the doors to your chambers opened, the wet nurse came in with a styled and dressed prince at her side. Getting Aerion ready had taken you one hour at most, and was far less complicated. 

Upon spotting his father carrying his sister in his strong arms, the boy all but barrelled towards him in jealousy. The wet nurse failed to pull him back, leaving him as he tugged on the leg of Maegor‘s leather breeches, demanding to be picked up as well. 

You used the opportunity and leaned past Maegor, trying to fix a stray strand of Aerion’s silver hair – but the excited boy didn't have any of it. 

“My my, look who is here,” Maegor said with a smile, kneeling down while carrying Visenya on his hip.

The boy hugged his father tightly, squeezing him with all the strength he could muster with his tiny arms, which left Maegor chuckling. You could not feel any greater joy than seeing the brute of a man, mostly known for his harshness, so soft and full of affection for his children. 

“I want up, Papa. I want up, now,” the boy demanded, wrapping his arms around Maegor’s neck. The sight was adorable, and you could see on your husband’s face just how much he basked in your children’s affection. 

“Up you say, mh?” Placing a hand under the boy’s bottom, your husband lifted him up with ease, carrying both children on his hips. 

You sighed, bringing a hand to your swollen belly as you planted your feet firmly on the ground, and slowly rose from your seat. It was evident Maegor had wanted to help you, to reach out to support you, but with both arms filled with your twins, he could merely offer you his forearm for you to hold onto. 

This pregnancy was not as woeful as your first one, truly a blessing from the Gods above. And your husband was more generous this time as well, allowing you to walk the gardens and the keep all by yourself, despite it taking you a bit longer to be with child again. The pregnancy in general was not that strenuous for your body, though your breasts and bump had swollen to ridiculous proportions already, and you barely exceeded the fifth moon. 

Approaching them, you brought both hands up to their cheeks, the pad of your thumbs brushing along their soft skin as they leaned into your touch. “That is enough, you two,” you hummed, smiling softly. “You must go with Erena now. We have guests arriving soon, and Mama is not ready yet. It would not do to keep our guests waiting.” 

The twins pouted, but with neither you nor Maegor being too lax with them, they knew there was no chance they could stay for any longer. You motioned for the wet nurse to approach, before you cupped your children’s faces one by one, and pressed a kiss to their foreheads. 

“Aye, you have heard your mama,” Maegor said, having your back. His eyes had taken over a half-lidded look as they were all but glued to your features, your lips mostly, watching you and admiring your motherly aura. 

He put both of them down, but not without ruffling your boy’s hair in a way that had you taking in a deep breath, trying to keep the anger of him destroying Aerion’s hairdo at bay. 

Clinging to the wet nurse's hands, they left the room at once, no doubt going to their chambers for her to read them a book. There were merely two servants around you at this point, stopping in their tracks as Maegor’s deep voice rang out. “Leave us,” he ordered sternly, his usual demeanor crawling back to the surface. 

It was the side of him your children were not meant to see, at least for now, and with Maegor’s paw coming to your swollen belly once you were alone, the softness returned. Cupping your bump gently, he looked down at it in awe.

“Are you ready for the feast?” you asked, smiling softly at him before your eyes trailed over the expanse of his bare chest. 

“I am, for as long as you’re by my side,” he said, his other hand trailing over the slight curve of your waist. Both his hands now rested where the swell was, feeling the gentle curve of your bump. When he spoke again, you could hear a tinge of jealousy in his voice, his words making you chuckle. “But I fear the crowd will pay more attention to you than me.” 

Bringing your hands up to his face, you cupped it just like you had done with the twins before, your thumbs brushing the stubble on his jaw. His eyes softened, fixing yours. “I can not wait for you to be with my fourth child,” he spoke with a mischievous grin. 

You raised a brow. “Oh, only if you will be the one carrying the babe,” you retorted, the tease in your voice and sparkle in your eyes hinting at something only he would understand. “I doubt this pregnancy will spare me from the terrible birthing pains, and I do not know whether I can endure it for a third time.”

Maegor sighed at your words, his hands running over your sides once more, before one moved to the back of your head, threading into your thick locks. Gently tugging your head back, he leaned down to press a kiss to your jaw. 

“Would you like me to try?” he chuckled against your skin, pulling back just enough for you to spot the smirk on his lips. His tone had taken on a huskier edge, one that always forced you to squeeze your thighs together. “The Gods will be on our side this time. There will be only one babe, I am sure.” 

Licking his lips, he kept his grip on your hair, and pulled your face towards his. You anticipated a kiss, but alas, he kept a few inches between your faces, your heavy breaths fanning over each other's lips. 

You tried to chase him for a kiss, but Maegor kept your head in place. “I hope you know the dangers of challenging a Targaryen man,” he teased. 

Oh, you did know. More than once had he proven that it was just not wise to challenge him. It was impossible for him to resist a good challenge, no matter how bold or brazen. Your late brother Aegon was the perfect example, and also the reason he and his dragon Quicksilver were slain by your uncle in the Battle Beneath the Gods Eye. 

Slinging your arms around his thick neck, you kept your eyes locked with his, a mischievous glint flickering in them. “I shall take my chances,” you replied, biting your bottom lip. 

That was the last bit that caused his resolve to crumble. Bowing his head forwards, he pressed his lips to yours fervently, void of any gentleness. Your hair was released, only for him to snake one arm around your waist and bring the other to your arse. Cupping it, it was easy for him to lift you up, holding your body to his in a cradle carry with your lips still connected. 

You pulled back from him to chuckle breathlessly. “We can’t… not now,” you laughed, bringing a hand to his bare chest as if you meant to stop him. “Our guests will soon arrive.”

But he was not having any of it. “Oh, is that so?” he taunted, slowly walking towards your marital bed, shrugging his shoulders when he came to a stop. “Let them, they can wait.”

You stared up at Maegor with wide eyes as he placed you down on the bed, one of your hands cupping your bump, while the other just rested on your chest, your full breasts hard and heavy. He stood at the side of the bed, and began to undo the laces in the front of his breeches. 

As much as you wanted to lock your gaze with his, your eyes always trailed down to where his fingers were fumbling with the laces, your breathing growing heavier and your mouth running dry. 

Maegor was the most handsome of all men, and his other skills were unparalleled. Even though his cock was the only one you had seen, you knew Maegor was very well endowed, and probably possessed one of the most beautiful cocks in Westeros.

Unable to wait any longer, you tugged the skirts of your nightgown up as much as your bump allowed, and shimmied your way out of your smallclothes. Your swollen belly was obvious, but you hadn’t thought of it as so obtrusive. But your husband didn’t seem to mind, if anything, he was even more determined and motivated to have his way with you.

Maegor eyed you just as hungrily, and his jaw set as he noticed the slight glistening of your womanhood as you spread your legs. You were eager and ready to take him. 

Stripping the last of his clothes off, Maegor joined you in bed, making himself at home between your parted legs. Leaning over you, careful not to put any of his weight on your bump, he planted kisses to the side of your neck, trailing up to your lips. His large frame completely covered your significantly smaller one, making you feel protected and safe as your fingers entangled into his silver strands, tugging on them gently and keeping his lips locked on yours. 

His cock was hard, pressing snugly against your soaked womanhood, sure to coat the underside of it and the sac of his stones in your arousal. You couldn’t help but to grind your hips against him, rutting your swollen folds against his hard member which prompted him to groan against your lips. 

“Be still, would you,” Maegor scolded, but his tone was void of any harshness. 

But you couldn’t. Not when your body craved to be filled by him so badly. And Maegor seemed to notice your despair. He sat back on his haunches, looking down at you. The pout on your lips had him smirking smugly. “You have teased me long enough,” you whimpered, innocently batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s what I deserve after this strenuous morning.”

Raising his brow, Maegor sighed – he was admitting his defeat. “I shall make it quick for you then.”

His hands roamed over your bump, the white silk allowing them to slide over it with ease. He then proceeded to lean to the side, fetching one of the pillows next to you and folding it in half. 

Maegor hooked one hand beneath your knee, and used that grip to lift your hips, slipping the pillow beneath them to slightly raise your body for him, and make your back arch in a way that was not uncomfortable. It caused your swollen breasts to spill from the low neckline of your nightgown, the white silk dampened and darkened by the droplets of milk that had oozed out of your hardened buds. 

“Let me take care of you, mama,” Maegor drawled, his dark blown eyes traveling over your frame. Despite most of your body still concealed by your nightgown, he couldn’t be any more attracted to and aroused by you than he was in that moment.  

Gripping the base of his cock, he used your arousal to tug on him once, twice, before aligning the tip with your throbbing entrance. He was completely focused and careful as he pushed inside, moving slow enough for you to feel every vein and ridge of his cock drag along your walls. 

“Gods be good,” you moaned, enjoying the feeling of being stretched out by him, bliss taking over your senses. 

Your husband remained upright, his hands on your knees as he started with a slow, deep grinding. Your smaller one found his and held onto him for stability and to feed your longing for his touch, your eyes never leaving his. You felt the familiar heat building in your belly quicker than usual, the coarse hair around his member grazing over your sensitive pearl every time he moved and fueling the pleasure you felt. 

“You truly were made for me,” he grunted, a large hand moving to splay over your bump, covering most of it. “The most beautiful woman in the realm, swollen with my seed and carrying my children.” With a blush covering your cheeks, you bit your bottom lip, stifling a wanton moan. 

Noticing the color on your cheeks, Maegor smirked, slightly increasing the pace of his hips, his cock hitting deep enough to drag over the spot that had you whining and whimpering. You were squeezing him so well, making it impossible for him to keep going for much longer – not that you had time to do so anyways. 

Your pearl throbbed with anticipation, and your cunt clenched and convulsed around his member, announcing your approaching peak and coaxing grunts and groans to escape his parted lips. 

You tipped your head back into the pillows, unraveling beneath him as you closed your eyes in bliss. 

“So good,” he groaned, reaching to rub your bump before trailing his hand up to your full breasts. “I shall fuck you full of my seed, and bed you until your womb runs dry.” You weren’t sure if it were his words, the thoughts accompanying them or the sensual rolling of his hips, but your brain went fuzzy with pleasure, clouding each thought to the point you couldn't think straight and answer him. 

His big hand tugged the neckline of your nightgown down to the point it ripped at the seam, freeing your breasts from their confines. It could have been a growl or a groan rumbling in his chest – either way it sounded threatening and dangerous, lured out by the sight of your leaking breasts. Clamping one of your darkened buds between his calloused fingers, he squeezed it to force some more droplets of milk out of it, coating his fingers in it.

Bringing them up to his lips, he sucked them clean with a groan, only for him to pay equal attention to your other breast not long after. It was not much, but already helped enough to relieve some of the pressure and ease the fullness. 

You bit your bottom lip and started up at him with half-lidded eyes, a teasing grin on your lips. “Want to get your fill, papa?” you asked, feigned innocence weaving itself through your tone. 

Maegor panted heavily, his eyes glued to where his fingers were milking you. “You little minx,” his husky voice drawled, interrupted by strained breaths. He was close. “Later.”

The coil in your belly tightened each time his body rutted against your pearl in combination with his fingers on your breasts, and it eventually snapped and allowed your peak to wash over your body with a loud cry. Maegor watched you mesmerized, relishing in the way your cunt fluttered around his cock with relief etched onto your features. 

He seized the opportunity, and bowed his bull-like body forwards, placing one hand next to your frame to support his weight as he increased the pace and intensity of his thrusts. Your cunt melted around his hard member, sucking him in with each snap of his hips.

You couldn't deny the slight aching that started to blossom between your legs, growing more apparent with the repercussions of your peak slowly subsiding, but you knew Maegor was racing for completion at this point, his breathing ragged and his jaw set. 

“When this babe is born…,” he rambled, panting in between the words. Strands of his blonde hair fell in front of his eyes, a sheen of sweat on his skin. “… I shall fuck another into you. I can not get enough of watching your body swell with my seed, making it clear to everyone that you are mine.”

“Y-Yes, Gods, please.” The flush on your cheeks grew hotter, matching the growing volume of your whimpers and moans. Suddenly, the thought of another babe growing inside of you didn’t seem too bad. 

It was with a final thrust of his hips that his body finally relented, his cock spending in a burst so strong Maegor stilled his movements. You felt him twitch and throb inside of you, spilling his seed and painting your walls as you milked him for every drop. 

The sight was divine. His muscular body crouched forwards slightly, blonde strands framing his chiseled features, beads of sweat highlighting his flexing muscles, and his jaw set tight enough you feared for his teeth. 

If you weren’t with his child already, you would have mounted him to make sure his seed would bear fruit. 

Every muscle in his body was tensed, until he eventually collapsed into the vacant spot right next to you, careful not to put any weight on your swollen belly. His flaccid cock slipped out of you in the process, causing you to pout at the sudden feeling of emptiness. 

But you were quickly distracted when you looked to the side, studying him carefully. The blissful smile on his lips sent heat straight through your veins again, reigniting the fire and longing for more. You traced your fingertips over his sharp cheekbones, while his hand had remained splayed over your bump in a protective manner. 

Moving to lie on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, mischievous thoughts filled your head, inspired the moment you glanced down at his thick cock. Teasing and arousing you was a weapon only Maegor possessed, and he wielded it so perfectly – intended or not. 

“Mh, our guests may have to wait a little longer,” you said, voice laced with desire. 

It was a bit troublesome for you to get up, but once you managed to do so, you moved to straddle your husband’s hips, his cock trapped between your soaked womanhood and his lower stomach.  

He watched you with an eyebrow raised, but made no move to stop you. You rutted your hips over his length, coating him in your mixed essences and coaxing him to full hardness again. 

Maegor propped himself up on his elbows, a groan leaving his lips, and brought his paws up to graze over your sides. He understood what you wanted, and was eager to give you just that. With unsurprising strength, he fisted the silk of your nightgown and tore it in half, exposing your whole body to him. 

You gasped, more because of the chill air hitting your hot skin than the shock of the sudden movements. 

Licking a flat stripe over the curve of your full breast before wrapping his lips around your hard bud, Maegor sucked on it a few times to swallow some of your milk. You moaned at the stimulation, tipping your head back as your cunt clenched around nothing. 

He pulled back with a string of saliva connecting his swollen lips and your skin, glancing up at you mischievously. And when he spoke, his voice was husky and strained, teasing you with a smug smirk on his lips. “I think they will understand.”

Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @watercolorskyy @xxxkat3xxx @baedebnam @simonedk @heavenhatesme @valyrianglass

General Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @sirenangelroyal @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @docmartinis @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @nockerin @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @goldyfishsstuff @connorsui

[cherryheairt]

Dragon Dreamer pt. V

sorry for the wait, I'm trying to do a mix of longer and shorter chaps depending on how much time I have. Love yall 🩷

tags- @beebeechaos @hueanhdang @emery-aka-emmy @r-3dlips @watermel0nsugarhigh @delaynew

cw- blood, death

"I'll find her." Cregan promised the she-dragon, not stopping to wonder if it understood his common tongue.

He sat upon Red's saddle, looking out into the dim forest. He prayed of the old Gods that she was only lost.

🗡

Daenys had yet to find her mysterious calling. It wasn't a voice or a message, but a persistent tug in the forefront of her unconscious mind. The snow seemed to fall harder the deeper she continued into the forest. She was unsure which way she had come from, but knew it didn't matter now.

White fortresses of snow grew all around her, trapping her from going any other direction. Squinting, she could barely make out a few feet in front of her face. This must be some cruel game the gods were playing, toying with the Princess before leading her to her doom. Perhaps a frozen lake would be fitting. She wouldn't even know that she was standing in the middle of one until she was frozen in the icy depths.

Or mayhaps a cliff so monstrous that the jagged edges left nothing of her mortal body left behind. Whatever it was, Daenys just wished she would reach it already. Now that she was wide-awake, the cold was getting to her, mentally and physically. Even the well-suited fur dress was not enough to keep her alive forever. She needed fire, warmth.

And what of her most recent vision? Tame in nature, but harrowing to her poor heart nonetheless. Daenys had never seen Rhaenyra so undignified before, flying on Syrax in a dirty, worn dress and covered in soot and sand. Her hair was in a loose braid, clearly one meant for sleep and not council duties. She was searching for something that no one else could find. A dragon, perhaps? Maybe Seasmoke had become active again after his depressive state from Laenor's passing. The grey dragon had always liked Rhaenyra. The married couple often rode their dragons together to spend time away from King's Landing. Daenys was sure it would obey her still.

But that look on her face. The same one she wore after returning from her birthing room, without baby Visenya in her arms. Puffy face, red eyes, downtrodded posture unbefitting of the new Queen. It was all the same in her dream, maybe even worse. Daenys was glad that her mother was with Syrax, for the she dragon would keep her safe no matter what.

She smiled slightly at the remembrance of Syrax, the princess dragoness. Though Morningstar was not born from Syrax's clutch, the two had bonded as if they were truly kin. Daenys had even commissioned an iron star-shaped chain to be the dragonsaddle's chestpiece. Rhaenyra had given Syrax a similar heart-shaped chestpiece in her youth and was happy to see the white dragon doning a matching article.

Daenys suddenly felt a pang in her heart, clutching the star necklace hanging at her neck. Guilty ate at her for leaving her loyal dragon behind. She missed her warmth.

She missed Cregan's, too.

She longed for either's protective embrace in this desolate wood.

"Find me," she whispered to the nothingness. The air seemed to still, freezing Daenys in place. She listened for something, anything. She no longer felt the incessant tug. Her mind cleared.

A crunch of snow was her answer.

But Daenys hadn't moved an inch.

"Cregan?" She asked, louder. "Are you here?"

No answer but the one in the wind, like a solemn wolf's howl.

Another crunch. Another step. Cregan would've answered her by now, surely. He was not one for callous pranks or jests. Daenys wasn't alone anymore. Was this the destination? Her mind's call? Would it be a wise seer, or a vessel sent by the gods to deliver a message? Swallowing, she hoped that the entity was merciful.

A low growl answered her desperate wishes.

A wolf.

Not Dusk.

Shit.

Daenys stilled her breaths, bracing her legs into the snow. What does a weaponless person do in the face of a predator? She'd never been taught such survival methods. The Red Keep's wildlife consisted of garden rabbits and squirrels, and Dragonstone had naught but sea creatures and crabs at its disposal.

Her eyes caught the slow movement of the creatures paw, striking dread straight into her heart. The form was smaller than Dusk, by a lot. Direwolves had a size no natural animal compared to. But this one seemed smaller than an average wolf, too. Perhaps a wolf in its teen years, just recently leaving its pack to stake his place in the world.

It was a slim thing, thick coat not enough to hide its ribs. Poor thing. It was starving, clearly. Daenys would have the heart to help it if only she wasn't the current prey he had in mind.

It was survival of the fittest in this world, after all. A dragon and a wolf. Any person with common sense would declare the dragon the victor before the fight could even start. But what was the blood of the dragon without the dragon? Daenys began to wonder if there was anything special about the Targaryens besides their dragons. They gained no special traits. No endurance, strength, speed. Without Morningstar, was Daenys worthy of her namesake? Lightbringer, the realm lovingly called the beast. Fearsome and powerful, a shame that the dragon will never be given glory like other dragons of history.

The dragon wouldn't be winning wars, protecting Westeros, or even stationed at a House to guard. All because of the rider she was bestowed.

A wolf does not care for blood.

They stared at each other, neither blinking nor moving.

Run or fight.

Run or fight?

Her only two options, and both would lead to her death. It wasn't nearly as merciful and quick as a frozen lake or a jagged cliff would be. No, she would be torn apart kicking and screaming.

If she charged it, would it run or have the courage to meet her head on? No, it would not back down. A starving dog hunts best. A starving wolf cannot risk failure.

What would Rhaenyra do? What would Daemon do?

Rhaenyra might stand her ground, ever the Dragon Queen she was. Mighty and proud, though she wielded no sword or plated armor.

Daemon wouldn't hesitate, drawing Dark Sister from its sheathe, beheading the wolf with a triumphant laugh.

Daenys was neither her mother nor her step-father, though she wished futility to be an image of them.

Cregan? Perhaps he would tame yet another wolf, seeing as he clearly had an affinity.

What would a northerner like Cregan Stark do in the face of a wild wolf? Unarmed, unshielded. Pray? Take the death as the will of the Gods? Maybe.

Daenys Velayron was far from a northerner. Fire and blood hot through her veins, not ice or faith. The way of the dragon was to be unchained, forever standing tall above the realm.

Though, wild animals have no reason to care for heritage or blood. The meat on her bones was all it could see.

A wolf does not care for blood.

Daenys exhaled, long and slow. Run or fight. Fighting a starved wolf meant death, instantly. Running gave her a chance at finding a tree or rock to climb–anything to get her a vantage point.

The choice was clear.

She just needed to act.

To turn your back on a predator was to sign your own life away.

Daenys, ever so slow, unbuckled her fur coat from her shoulders. The grey wolf eyed it, snarling. Its yellow eyes grew brighter, like two harvest moons shining against the fallen snow.

Daenys mustered up all the courage she could manage, heart pounding, throwing the fur coat across the distance to the wolf. Immediately, it took it in its maw and ripped its head back and forth wildly. If it were a hot-blooded prey, the coat would be dead with blood spattered all over the snow.

Daenys ran, wasting no time watching the display.

She hoped to blind it temporarily, but it catching the furs was a better outcome than missing entirely.

She panted, adrenaline coursing through her to give warmth and strength to her limbs. They burned with the sudden exertion. Daenys could hear the wolf throwing the fur away, not being able to gather any sustenance from the useless garb.

It barked frustratedly at her disappearance from his sight, quickly giving chase to the girl.

Daenys could only hear her heart beat out of her chest and the sounds of the snarling chasing her, closer every second. Her eyes flew around wildly, hoping to spot a low-hanging but sturdy branch. Kind of difficult when running at full speed. Screeching at a bite nipping at her heels, she jumped to the nearest branch she could reach, not having any time left to search. Daenys managed to pull half of her body over it before the wolf's teeth were on her skirts, tugging violently.

She cried out as she hit the cold floor, winded from the wall. The wolf planted itself over her, leaving no room for escape, nipping at her face. Her arm instinctively flew to protect her throat and face, resulting in the wolf's jaw clamping right down on her forearm. She screamed in agony, flames of pain running through her arm. She kicked at its flank while it snarled deep and heavily, salivating through her arm. The blood and saliva from her arm dripped down hot streaks to her face, blinding her.

When the wolf let go of her arm, bracing to go for more vital parts of her to end her squirming, Daenys accepted her fate. The kicks had done nothing. It hadn't moved an inch nor showed signs of pain. At least her death wouldn't be completely useless. The wolf would be fed, for perhaps a few weeks until it could find another easy prey.

Above her, the yellow eyes were lit with hungry and drive.

Daenys closed her eyes tight, hoping for the end to be swift.

But, she did not feel the jaws of death.

She felt the hot sting of blood being poored onto her exposed skin. She shot up, feeling the head of the wolf fall onto her chest. In a horrific pool of blood and bone, the wolf's head went to her lap as she sat up. Daenys froze, chest heaving with panicked breaths. She wanted to toss the head off of her, throw up, and cry all at once. But she was frozen with shock.

"Is that you, Princess?"

That was not Cregan.

Daenys lifted her gaze from the head to the voice. A man, tall and sharply built, dressed in all black. Perhaps close to Daemon's age, with a salt-and-peppered black beard and hair.

She could only stare at him, eyes wide with terror and adrenaline leaving her body. The pain in her arm was flaring, only growing as it bled onto the snow. It could hardlt be called snow anymore, the radious around Daenys was pure blood red, including herself. Her hair was dyed red, too, sullying into her usually perfect white. She was sure she would never feel clean again, that the hot blood would remain on her forever.

"My lady, focus on me." His words were stern as he knelt to meet the Princess, a hand on her face.

She listened, looking into his crystaline blue eyes. A northerner, he must be, born and raised. "...Ser?" She whispered, hoarse.

He nodded, focusing her face to his and not letting her gaze drift. "Where are you, Princess?"

The question startled her from despondency, confused. "Where am I? The North?" She asked.

He chuckled at her bemusement. "Aye, lass. Very good. What's your name?"

She felt annoyed suddenly, this man was asking very stupid and obvious questions. He called her Princess, he must know the answer. "Daenys Velayron. Who are you?"

"The man who saved your life. You're very welcome, by the way." He smirked crookedly, chortling when she only narrowed her eyes.

"Seamus Knott, at your service, My Lady. I am sworn to the Wall, though, so I am no Ser." He bowed dramatically, though his bitter smile showed his discontent with his position. Perhaps he was sent to the wall in a way he deemed unjustified. Whatever the reason was, Daenys did not want to be alone with him for long. The Night's Watch was loyal to the crown in respect only. She was content to visit, but only because Cregan would be there to look after her. Theives and rapers were a majority of the Watch, Daenys did not want to take any chances with them.

"Why are you so far from the wall, Seamus?" Daenys asked him, still sitting lamely in her spot.

He raised a brow, "why are you so far from your protector?"

She bristled, curling in on herself protectively. Had he been following them? For how long?

Seeing her demeanor shift, Seamus raised his hands in a show of surrender. "Not like that, your highness. I was simply speculating. A princess so far in the North hasnt happened in a century. You are news to us all. At Castle Black, we were informed that you would be arriving with Lord Stark soon."

It did make sense. Though, only three days had passed since they left–

"Step away from the Princess." A voice growled behind the Knott man. Daenys perked up at the sound, the familiar tone putting her heart and mind finally at ease. Ice was held straight to the back of his neck, a perfect extension of the Lord's arm.

Cregan stood tall and firm with his expression almost unreadable. Would he be angry with her for her recklessness, send her back to Dragonstone? Or perhaps he was more angry with the Night's Watch for spilling private information to all the residents.

"Cregan!" She gasped, trying to stand to her feet but was stopped by a wave of vertigo. Her feet were like water, unable to hold up any weight. She held her head with her uninjured hand, cradling the pain.

Cregan glanced at her briefly, brow furrowing at the state of her, before he stepped closer to Seamus. The tip was a mere inch away from the man's stubbled neck, though the older man paid it no mind. Grinning, "I saved the poor maiden, she'd be dead by now if I 'aden't. Where were you, Stark?"

Cregan's jaw ticked, "How did you find her? We're too far from any houses for this to be considered a mere coincidence." Clearly, he was ignoring the man's words. Probably because he was right. The blood had long cooled in on top of her, leaving the liquid to intensify her shivering.

Seamus looked down at him over his narrow nose, arrogantly sizing the lord up. His blood-covered steel sword was still at his side, clenched around a gloved fist. "I have been summoned weeks ago to head the beckoning of Lord Tully. I received a raven from Castle Black's Commander only a few days ago, informing me of the Warden escorting the Princess to the Wall. I merely wished to ensure our Princess' safety."

Cregan was unmoved. "I can handle that perfectly well. She is under my protection, my watch."

"Your watch hasn't even begun, Stark. You have no idea what it means to serve the wall. Sitting pretty in Winterfell while we work thanklessly for our keep." Seamus sneered, nasty expression twisting his uncomely features.

"Who's fault is that, Knott?" Cregan bit back. Daenys was left confused at their familiarity. Did they know each other?

Seamus' grip on his sword tightened, the leathery squeeze ringing in Daenys' ears unpleasantly. Her ears rang harshly, blood rushing to her head and drowning other sounds out. About to vomit her rabbit up or faint, she did not know. Dusk, who had been loyally by Cregan's legs, now moved to Daenys' side at the flick of his owner's wrist. She placed an unsteady hand on his brown shoulder, allowing him to take her weight as she leaned into his warmth. He wasn't quite as comforting as Cregan had been, but the relief was nice.

Dusk huffed into her ear, though he still stared up at Seamus the whole time. When Daenys fell asleep, the sound of steel sheathing filled her muffled ears.

🗡

She awoke to a weight over her body, bundled like a blanket. The strong scent of iron and wood filled her nose and surrounded her entirely. She opened her eyes to see Cregan at her side, under the cover of a tent. Looking around, she spotted none of her belongings. His tent. He crouched on his knee, tenderly wiping at her wound with a wet cloth. While he was deep in concentration, his brows knit together tightly, a frown dragging his handsome face down.

"Cregan?" He lifted his head to face her, turning his attention from her arm.

He smiled tightly at her, clearly still bothered by something. "My Lady, I'm glad to see you awake." Cregan told her earnestly.

Daenys sat up with his help, allowing his arm to linger at her back. "What happened to Seamus?"

Clenching his teeth, Cregan fought the urge to roll his eyes childishly. "Outside. Dusk is watching over him. I had to tend to you before I deal with him."

She kissed her teeth when she felt the sting of her arm come back. The wound was clean, though deep and raised. It would scar her for the rest of her life, a painful reminder of her dreadful night.

Cregan, noticing her downturned face, lifted her chin to look up at him instead. "It is a warrior's scar, Princess. We have that in common." He smiled more genuinely now as he lifted his sleeve to reveal his bicep, raised slightly with an old white scar, one that mirrored hers.

"Dusk bit you?" She gasped, brushing her fingertips over the scar. Gingerly, as if she thought it would still hurt him.

He chuckled fondly, watching her eyes rack over the scar. "When we first met. I was six and ten when I first became Lord of Winterfell. I was forced to imprison my uncle and his sons that day to take my place. I left for a solo hunt to be alone for a while.

He found me first. The size of a normal young wolf. We were hunting the same dear when I shot it down first. Dusk didn't take to kindly to that," He gestured to the teeth marks. "But I won that fight, gave him a scar to match. He's stayed by my side ever since." Cregan left out the part where he discovered his soul bonded to Dusk's, due to him being able to warg.

Daenys smiled, moving her hand away from his arm. "I'm glad I didn't have to fight Morningstar to get her to obey me." She laughed. Cregan laughed along, white teeth glinting in the light.

Cregan survived a direwolf attack all on his own when he was but a young man. Daenys would have died without assistance against her attacker when she was a woman grown. Clenching her jaw, she started, "I'm sorry for leaving last night. I...wish I could tell you my reasoning, but I don't know myself."

He took her face in his hand, inspecting it long and hard. Her violet eyes were half-lidded, a sign of her exhaustion. They still shined brightly in the day's light like they always did. Two perfect amethysts looking straight at him.

"You did nothing wrong, sweet girl." Cregan's thumb brushed the apple of her cheek, rubbing at the clear skin. She now noticed the feeling of the sticky blood was gone almost entirely, except from her dress. He had washed it all off of her in her unconsciousness. "You couldn't stop it, could you?"

Like he knew everything, Cregan seemed to hold all the wisdom in the world. Perhaps that was the result of being a Lord at six and ten. "I stopped walking when the wolf came." Daenys nodded.

He kept his hand in its place while he took a moment to think. "I should've been there, It's my duty to keep you safe, and I failed. Seamus is right, the creatin he is. If he hadn't come first, you wouldn't have come home to the Queen."

She smiled crookedly, telling him she was not upset. "From now on, I must insist." He focused entirely on her, making her face feel hot from the intensity. "You be with me at all times. In my tent, hunting with me, Hells, even on horseback with me if that's what it takes to keep you safe."

"I do not wish to be your burden, My Lord."

"I wish it," He shook his head, a secret pang in his heart that she hadn't called him by his name again.

"Even while you hunt? I am not quite as stealthy as you, I would just scare everything away."

"I will teach you." Cregan said firmly, leaving no further room for arguments. "We will stay in larger clearings from now on, even if it means walking greater distances. I want Morningstar to be with us as we sleep. I do not trust Knott."

"Speaking of," she started, tentatively. "How do you know him?"

He sighed deeply, reaching into his satchel bag to grab a roll of bandage. While he worked on wrapping her arm, he spoke. "My father and him grew up together. His brother, the Knott heir, warded with my father for some time to learn his Lordly duties. Seamus just tagged along because his father wished to be rid of him. He was a jealous, spiteful person even as a boy. When their father passed, he left everything to his rightful heir Kent.

Seamus killed him when he had not even been Lord for a year. He was sent to the Night's Watch by my father, a worse punishment than death for a man who only cares for titles and power. In the Watch, all brothers are equal."

"I do not want to kill him because he saved your life. I also do not want him anywhere near you." Cregan grit his teeth, frustrated at his torn opinions. He owed the man what he asked of, which was simply to accompany Cregan and Daenys to the Wall. Cregan cursed himself for his own honor, the Lord of Winterfell always kept his word.

"I promise, if he does anything, anything, to make you uncomfortable, I will take care of him." Cregan told her, earning a short nod from the Princess.

He stood, bandage firmly in place, helping her up with a sturdy hand. "Change your dress and wash up, then I will bring you hunting." It was too early to allow her to sleep, he wanted her to sleep tonight so that they may only travel during the day. They had completely lost this day thanks for the circumstances, and he wanted to spend the remaining time doing something useful. Also, he wanted to keep his mind of maiming Seamus where he stood.

While Daenys changed, she grimaced at the sight of blood that had made it way further down her dress. The garment was not fixable without a miracle, so she left it outside of the tent for Dusk to use as a temporary bed. Less weight for Mylo to carry, she supposed. Daenys scrubbed the dried blood from her neck and chest, not yet able to clean out her hair. That would take running water, not a damp cloth.

Stepping outside, she doned a new white dress, lined with grey fur. The sight of grey reminded her of the young wolf, filling her heart with guilt. She hoped he hadn't felt fear or pain in his quick end. She was met with Seamus, standing a few yards away from her tent. He wore a wild and proud grin, baring his teeth to her.

"Princess! You're awake, how delightful." She nodded her greeting stiffly. "I have a gift for you to take home, a proper warrior's trophy for the Queen." He presented the wolf's head from a bag attached to his belt, its yellow eyes still wide open, but holding none of its previous hunger. Daenys gasped in horror, bringing a hand to her neck. Cregan, who'd been waiting near the edge of camp for her, strided forward.

"Is this a cruel joke on your Princess, Knott?" He began, hand hovering over Ice. Before Seamus or Cregan could begin to argue again, Daenys rushed forward to take the pup's head in her hands. Both men stared at her in surprise.

Without saying a word, though she had many specific words for the brute, she gently held the wolf's severed head as she brought it to Morningstar, who had been laying in the edge of the clearing. She looked grumpy already, perhaps because of the direwolve's irritating presence, but purred when she saw Daenys finally coming to her. Daenys sat the head gently in front of the dragon's head, "Daor havor."

"Dracarys." Daenys commanded the mighty dragon, stepping back many paces. The three people, and the curious direwolf, watched on as the dragon scorched the head until it was naught but ash. The snow around the head had melted to reveal black burnt ground. Silence filled the campground. Daenys bowed her head, whispering to herself. "Kostagon aōha iemny sagon forever lēda sir"

She turned to look up at Seamus, who had a strange look on his face. "That was a cruel thing to do, ser. Not to me, but to the poor animal who lost it's life to starvation."

Seamus clenched his jaw at the scorning, never having been told off by a girl, much less a younger one. "Aye, Princess." Was all he said, trodding off to sulk in his own small tent.

Daenys looked to Cregan, who smiled softly at her. "That was kind of you, my Lady."

She thanked him, "could we find a river before our hunt? I wish to rid my hair of this blood before it becomes permanently red."

He laughed jovially, agreeing. "I do not think red hair would fit you. White is your color." He gestured towards her dress, then to her dragon, making her grin warmly.

🗡

Cregan led her to the nearest water source he could find, merely a small stream, but it would work just fine. Politely, Cregan turned away, although she wasn't taking any garments off. She snickered to herself at his chivalrous attitude, refusing to watch a lady wash her own hair. It took a lot of scrubbing and numb fingers before she was finally content, seeing no more red wash out.

"How does this look?" She asked the man behind her, who turned to inspect her. Wet hair still dripping onto her furs, she looked as lovely and youthful as ever. Her hair seemed longer, curls not yet bunching it up. "Beautiful, my Lady." He offered her a hand. Daenys hoped that her cheeks were not visibly red at the simple compliment as she was lifted by Cregan.

He smiled that secretive grin once again, walking ahead of her. "We will set a snare up first. Then, I'll teach you how to make a kill."

Daenys swallowed harshly. The last thing she wanted to do was kill another animal. She knew it was necessary, though. The Gods would not be spiteful for Daenys filling her stomach.

She followed Cregan into the denser part of the woods, carefully stepping in every place he did. After a while of her silence, he glanced behind himself with a concerned look, only to stifle a laugh at her delicate tiptoeing. He shook his head good-naturedly, grateful that she was trying.

Daenys watched him carefully set up a snare with the coil of metal wire in his pocket. They both crouched over it, leaving it in by a rabbithole before moving on to set another. This time, Cregan gently instructed her to do her own. It took a while, almost thrice the time he took, but he never got impaitient with her. Finally, she set the wire to the sticks coming out of the snow, triumphantly looking to Cregan for approval. "You're a natural born hunter, Princess." He declared, watching her smile with pride.

The two sat far from their many snares for hours, sitting against a sturdy pine. No words were needed as they kept a comfortable silence between them, Daenys finding herself struggling to stay awake with the peaceful atmosphere. Cregan glanced to her from her side, placing a hand over hers. He traced symbols, cracked joints, and tapped their fingers together rhymically to a pattern she followed by doing the same back to him. The focus kept her awake, her mind on the new task.

As the sun was near setting, Cregan led her to his snares first, picking up two rabbits and his wires. He whispered Northern words of respect for the animal before swiftly stabbing it in the heart. They inspected Daenys' next, finding one rabbit struggling in it. She hesitated to step forward, only urged on by Cregan. "Here," he handed her his dagger, a fine piece of steel that had a direwolf's head placed on the pommel. She kneeled next to the rabbit, thanking it quietly for its sacrifice. She took a deep breath it, releasing it as she stabbed into the white chest. Daenys paused a moment, grimacing. Blood stained her leather gloves, another reminder of the wolf. He would haunt her forever, it seemed. She clutched the rabbit gently in her arms, holding it like she held baby Aegon and Viserys. Cregan fondly smiled at her. "You did well, Princess." They collected the wire, walking back to the campsite. After wiping the dagger off with a kerchief, she handed it back to him.

Cregan gently pushed it to her chest, shaking his head. "Keep that one on you. So I know you're safe, even if we're apart."

Daenys, awestruck, nodding slowly. This was her first gift from a person that wasn't her kin and not a new dress or piece of jewelry. "I will keep it safe." She grinned up at him, earning a hearty chuckle.

They burned one of the rabbits over the fire, sharing it amongst themselves. It seemed like Dusk had gone on his own hunt, gnawing on the leftover bones of his dinner. While Daenys and Cregan settled into his tent for bed, she felt too tired to be nervous. His comforting scent surrounded her like a blanket, his warmth radiating throughout the tent. He slept without the furs of his cloak, a wonder that Daenys was curious about. Did he run so hot that the chill of night didn't bother him, only needing one fur blanket?

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Daenys snuggled into the furs he had given her for her own tent, almost grumbling at their lack of distinct scent. The two fell asleep side by side, the purrs of Morningstar soothing them to sleep.

Daor havor - not food

a wolf does not care for blood

Kostagon aōha iemny sagon forever lēda sir - may your stomach be forever full now

beheadings have become a trend in westeros, i see. i just remembered robb's direwolf and how he was grey.

did you catch that double meaning lol

also rip grey wolf, you would have loved being housed and fed in Winterfell by Cregan

I'm thinking that Morningstar is the child of Silverwing and Vermithor since they're a mated pair. We don't know if they produce asexually or not, so idk. Definitely Silverwing's baby though, since she's the only white dragon alive, but when I imagine Morningstar I see a white smaller version of Vermithor, I adore his horn and face design.

Who knows, the dragons seemed to be random colors. Arrax is white and Vermax is green, even though Syrax is yellow and theres no male whites or greens

[novaursa]

I love all your works and that you write so many characters from the ASOIF universe.

Could you please write one story about Aegon I coming to Dorne and being seduced by Dornish princess? He becomes obsessed with her so much that Visenya believes that she is a witch who put spell on him. She tries to kill her, but Aegon finds it out and punishes Visenya.

Witch of the Dunes

Requests are closed!

- Summary: After Visenya tries to take your life, Aegon finds her with all the fury of the dragon.

- Paring: martell!reader/Aegon I Targaryen

- Note: The reader is married to Aegon.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The days in Dorne were unlike any Aegon had known in the Seven Kingdoms. The relentless sun that kissed the dunes, the soft yet scorching winds that swept across the Red Mountains, and most of all, the presence of you, Y/N. Your laughter, your spirit, and your passion had bewitched him, drawing him back to Dorne time and time again. He was a conqueror, the King of Westeros, yet here in Dorne, he found himself conquered, enthralled by your presence.

You were the princess of a land that had resisted his rule, but Aegon no longer cared for conquest here. In your company, the politics of the realm seemed distant and unimportant. He felt alive when he was with you, and each passing day solidified his desire to remain in Dorne, away from the cold halls of King's Landing, from his duties, and from his sisters.

It was only when he heard the rumor—whispered by one of his men—that something had happened in the night that Aegon's calm was shattered. Visenya had tried to kill you.

He found you in your chambers, a faint bruise on your wrist where Visenya had gripped you too tightly. Your normally fierce eyes were clouded with pain and disbelief, and Aegon’s blood boiled. His sister had crossed a line, and he would not stand for it. You were under his protection now, and more than that, you were his heart.

"I will handle this," he promised, his voice low, though his rage was barely restrained. You tried to hold him back, sensing the fury within him, but he kissed your forehead and left swiftly.

Aegon stormed into Visenya’s chamber without knocking. His elder sister stood by the window, her silver hair falling down her back like a sheet of moonlight, but there was no softness in her gaze when she turned to meet his. Her eyes blazed with cold fury, unyielding, as if she had expected his arrival.

"Aegon," she began, her voice steady, almost detached. "You must see reason. The girl is a witch, a serpent in your garden. She has twisted your mind, made you forget your purpose. I did what was necessary."

He could scarcely believe her audacity. “You tried to murder her, Visenya,” he snarled, stepping closer, the heat of his fury filling the room. “My wife, the woman I love. You had no right.”

Visenya’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “No right? As your sister and queen, it is my duty to protect you, even from yourself. She’s from Dorne, a land of poison and treachery. Can’t you see she has ensnared you with her tricks? You were not meant to love—you were meant to rule. She is a distraction, Aegon, a spell cast upon you.”

Aegon’s fists clenched at his sides. The loyalty he had always felt toward Visenya, the respect he had held for her counsel, was dissolving in the face of her arrogance. "You think I’m a fool? That I would be so easily manipulated? I have been patient, Visenya, with your overreaches, your control, but this—this is treachery. You attacked her as a coward in the night, and you dare justify it?"

Visenya stepped forward, her eyes darkening with cold defiance. “You are blind, brother. She will be your undoing. I only did what had to be done because you would not.”

Aegon’s voice lowered, trembling with suppressed wrath. “What had to be done? No, Visenya, this was not about protecting me. This was about your jealousy—your refusal to let anyone come between us. But I tell you now, if you harm her again, I will not forgive you.”

Visenya’s face twisted with rage. “Forgiveness? You speak to me of forgiveness when you are the one enchanted by that witch? I would rather you hate me for eternity than watch you throw away your destiny for her.”

Aegon’s patience snapped. “You will never speak of her like that again,” he hissed, his voice dangerous. “You think you are the only one who understands power? I am the one who conquered the Seven Kingdoms, I decide what my destiny is.”

He took a step closer, towering over his sister now. “You are my blood, but you will not dictate my heart. From this day, Visenya, you are forbidden to come near her. If you do, I will strip you of your position as queen. I am your king first and foremost.”

Visenya’s eyes widened, shocked by his words. She had never thought Aegon would speak to her this way, never thought he would place anyone before her—not even Rhaenys, let alone a Dornish woman.

“You would punish me for this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Your own sister, for her?”

Aegon’s jaw tightened. “You gave me no choice.”

Without another word, he turned on his heel and left the chamber, his cloak billowing behind him. His heart pounded in his chest, still seething with rage, but as he returned to your side, he felt the tension begin to ease. You were what mattered now, not Visenya’s madness.

When you looked up at him, your eyes questioning, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. “She will never touch you again,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your hair. “I swear it.”