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queers-gambit · 3 months ago

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Give Every Man Thy Ear, But Few Thy Voice

title citation: Hamlet

prompt: similar to Penelope Featherington, you overhear your best mate's choice words about you after dancing at a ball.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!Tyrell!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

collection masterlist: The Truth Will Out - coming soon collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 18.3k+

note: SLUTTY ANGST CLUB, COME GET Y'ALL JUICE!

warnings: not edited. heapings of angst, hurt and no comfort, fuck your feelings. tweaked timeline, cursing, Bridgerton influenced, Aemond's both a bestie and an outstanding, fucking asshole - so is this vilified Aemond? eavesdropping trope, nicknamed reader, insecurity, insults, betrayl, abundance of ye ol' misogyny, self destructive tendencies; a single, non-graphic line that alludes suicide as an unserious threat to convey displeasure. there's men being men, men being gossipy little bitches, and the most random Lord of the Rings quote that kinda breaks the fourth wall?

Bridgerton - available to watch on Netflix 🍒 this fic was written before season three premiered

Jacaerys Velaryon version: coming soon

Tonight was a celebration that echoed across the entire Realm. Lords and Ladies alike with their service maids, House guards, any available singletons flocked to King's Landing for the courting season. They did this annually. Three solid months for eligible singles to make a match and attempt to secure their bond in matrimony.

Ladies wore layers of multicolored fabrics. Lords dressed in embellished tunics. Ladies tied on tight corsets to push their breasts to their necks. Lords shaved their facial hair, appearing "cleaned up". Ladies smelt of exotic perfume and Lords stood in shiny boots. All wore sparkling, gaudy jewelry.

While the Starks of Winterfell and the Umbers of Last Hearth traveled over a month to reach the capital, your family, the Tyrells from Highgarden, had a much more comfortable commute. Greyjoys and Mormonts sailed in from the Iron Islands and Bear Island, Tullys from Riverrun, Royces and Arryns from the Eyrie. Single, available, eligible Hightowers returned under Queen Alicent's sponsorship, Lannisters prowled in from Lannisport, and select few Martells arrived in gorgeous, gloriously golden carriages from Dorne.

Everyone who was anyone descended onto the Red Keep, eager to earn King Viserys' stamp of approval - being that he only granted one couple his presence at their ceremony. It was the highest of honors, a prize to be won, a chance to show off and show out; giving the two bonded families bragging rights until the next season. Plus there's a superstition that all weddings the King attended were prosperous, healthy, and long lasting marriages. There was a buzz in the air, a static of excitement and mystery; tension brewing when the members of court arrived and sized each other up for that first week. You thought they were silly for this energy, akin to strutting peacocks, treating their own like competition, treating bloodlines like currency.

You never realized how many purists there were.

While the other Houses had to travel, you were most lucky to already host residence in the Red Keep. Your uncle, Evin Tyrell, had once been in line to assume lordship over Highgarden, but after losing his son to the War of the Stepstones, Evin turned away from his inherited responsibilities; forcing it onto your father's shoulders. You had several siblings, both younger and older, and eventually got lost in your bustling, busy, arguably large family. Evin had no more children, wife long departed from this life, and was excited by the prospect of being a guardian; insisting you come with him to King's Landing, where he accepted a tutoring position for the King's children and grandchildren.

You were absolutely romanced by the idea of existing among the royal family, telling your father it was your one chance at a decent, higher education - an opportunity to study under the Targaryens being once in a lifetime. Truth be told, you're not entirely sure Lord Tyrell even processed your words, approving with a distracted grunt and a wave; gone by the next morning without even breaking your fast with your family. Evin hooked both your beloved horse and one of your father's young stallions to a wooden cart you shared, using the journey to King's Landing to prepare you for the life you were soon to live.

You had always been a little wild child, so, Evin felt it necessary to remind you of your manners; brushing up on your etiquette, quizzing you on members of the Royal Family, explaining what would be expected of you now that you were a guest to the royals.

For well over a decade, you were the single wildflower blooming through dragon fire, earning the moniker Rose of the Realm; living under Queen Alicent's good grace. She seemed to like you well enough, going as far as to invite you to family events after noticing the bond between you and her openly favorite son, Prince Aemond. Years ago, when you were fresh and new to the Capital City, your uncle brought you to attend Lady Laena Velaryon's funeral on Driftmark at the King's invitation. You already had a friendship with the young royals; keeping Helaena company, trying to sneak Aegon's chalices of wine out of his grip, and when the time came, rushed off over the sandy dunes with your best mate after he told you his plan to lay claim on Lady Laena's dragon, Vhagar.

After the King's heir, Princess Rhaenyra's (rumored) bastard son, Lucerys, slashed Aemond's eye from his socket, you became incredibly close. Impossible close. Like unbelievably close; being thick as thieves, joined at the hip, magnetically pulled towards one another before clicking into tight place. You were his pillar of support, his anchor to reality; and he was your salvation.

You realized you were in love with him when you turned ten-and-six. It was something strange, the two of you studying together in the library and when you looked up from your book to meet his eyes, you just understood. Something in your brain clicked, heart cemented in knowing, guts twisting in sudden realization, words caught in your throat and only letting out an inaudible gasp. Ever since that day, you were acutely aware of anything the Prince did; from the way he would caress the back of your head at each embrace, to his eye darting to look at your lips during conversations. From how he took almost every meal with you, to the way he insisted upon your invitation to family, public, and / or royal events. From the way he absorbed your secrets and opinions, to the way he shared his own - getting back what you put forth, forever mutual.

Being friends - best mates, even - with Aemond was easy. So easy, in fact, that nobody ever batted an eye when they saw the two of you unchaperoned. Your friendship was wholesome, endearing, supportive, enlightening, and pleasurably challenging in the sense that Aemond liked pushing your envelope; testing your boundaries. He set new standards and helped lift you to meet those goals, made you think harder, consider new points of view, expand your humanity.

What more could anyone ask for?

About half way through the current season, your uncle sent for you to join him for afternoon tea in the gardens. "Do you recognize these?" He asked when you arrived at the pavilion he sought shade under, admiring the bushes of florals surrounding the bannister.

"Of course," you smirked, hands behind your back as you stood at his shoulder, "they're honeysuckle."

"Native to only Highgarden, just like I called you in your youth," Evin added, plucking a bloom to admire. "Do you know why they're planted here?"

"I imagine through pollination?"

"A sound guess, but no," your uncle handed you the flower. "These were imported years ago, but have only bloomed now."

You nodded, sucking the bud to extract its honey-sweet taste, asking through puckered lips, "Imported by whom?"

"Do you remember your 17th nameday?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess, it was only a few years ago. You weren't here, you were on some diplomatic matter, right?"

"Inna way. After I concluded my affairs, I returned to Highgarden. You see, Prince Aemond confided in me how he wished to do something special for your birthday and knew you missed home. He asked me to bring these seeds back."

"Aemond asked you to plant honeysuckle?"

"Specifically here," Elvin grinned, "so they were within easy reach."

"So why have they only just now bloomed?" You tried to keep the jittery excitement out of your voice; baffled yet giddy from hearing about Aemond's kind gesture.

"There's an old legend," Evin gestured you to the patio table and chairs that was dressed for your social visit. "It's said, when the honeysuckle is gifted from lover to lover, they will only bloom when love surrounds them. I believe they have come to life this season as a portent to an impending match to be made."

"You spend too much time with Otto, Uncle, you're starting to sound like him - veiling your words and talking in riddles. Tell me why you called me here, Uncle, I know it's not for a botany lesson. Out with it, please, for the sake of my sanity."

Evin chuckled, watching you lean forward to pour two mugs of tea. "I was wondering, sweet niece, what the nature of your relationship is to the Prince Aemond?"

"Oh," you blinked, adding a sugar cube to your brew before stirring in a bit of milk, "well, I hate to disappoint, but I don't know what to tell you, Uncle. We're friends, nothing more or less."

"You seem real chummy."

"We're close, yes."

"Romantic?"

You scoffed, "Uncle, please - "

"Tell me the truth of it."

"Nothing inappropriate or unseemly nor nefarious has occurred between us, Uncle, I promise you. The Prince and I are just friends."

Evin sipped his tea, nodding slowly, "Well, humor me. If I asked who you would marry, who would you choose?"

"Well, as of right now, I'd choose myself since I don't know the men at court yet, only rumors and whispers."

"And if the offer of marriage presented itself, would you marry the Prince?"

"I would do my duty to our House, no matter the suitor."

Evin nodded slowly, "If I said I had struck a pact with the Queen and Hand, what would you say?"

"That despite what I've just said, if you marry me off to Aegon, I'll pitch myself from a window."

Your uncle's head tilted back as he belted short laughter. "I would never condemn you to such a fate, honey girl! Have more faith in me. I speak of Prince Aemond - it's why I asked about him."

"Uncle, speak plainly. Have you attempted to make such a match between the Prince and I?"

"Pending a few logistics, the Crown's interested in the match."

The words echoed in your mind on an obnoxious repeat for the weeks to come, surely living a dream. The longer you dwelled on the impending match, the giddier you felt; a secret smile brightening your features, small spring in your step, an air of positivity hanging around you that even the tiresome Rogue Prince wouldn't be able to taint. The One-Eyed Prince has long been your best mate for a decade, surely, this match would've been offered sooner or later; it was a smart choice, the definition of compatibility.

Some might've referred to this elation as "cloud nine", though you'd say it was cloud 10, 11, 12, 100! You were flying high, feeling good, and mistakenly allowing your hopes to heighten while imagining what marrying your best friend would be like.

You prepared for that evening's courting session with a dreamy, dazed look in your eyes. Even your ladies-maid picked up on your joyful spirit; questioning through her smile, "What's got you so distracted, my Lady? You've been staring off into nothing with that smile for an hour now."

"Huh?" You met her eyes through the vanity mirror, the woman standing behind you to intricately braid your hair. "Oh, no, no, nothing, I'm only lost in thought."

"Which thought?"

"It doesn't matter, it's just a thought. When it becomes a notion, I'll tell you, my friend."

She repeated with a grin, "'Yeah? When's that? Are you expecting good news?"

"Perhaps."

"Fine, fine, keep your secrets," she playfully tugged your hair. "Do you know which dress you'd like to wear tonight?"

"The lilac one," you answered, lips stretching your smile.

"You mean the dress that matches Prince Aemond's eye perfectly?"

You both giggled girlishly.

When you arrived at the Throne Room, there was already more than 75% of guests in attendance; getting a jump on their mingling. You greeted several familiar faces, locating your best mate standing at the side with his arms crossed and shoulder leaning on a pillar. "Well, you certainly look happy to be here," you teased when at his side, leaning on the other side of the intricate column.

"It was Mother's idea, Rosie, you know I do not dance," he frowned. "She's not given up the hunt to make me a match. She's adamant this is the year."

"Perhaps if you participate, you could organically meet your future wife."

"Hmm," his eye rolled, thin lips quirking in a smirk; gaze turned on you, watching you scan the room.

There was another 20 minutes of mingling before dinner was called, laid out on tables that stretched the entire length of the Throne Room. Naturally, like every single day, you and Aemond took side-by-side seats together at a risen table that hosted the royal family which provided an incredible view of those in attendance this eve. With your elbow, you nudged Aemond's bicep, making him lean over instantly so you could speak in his ear quietly. "Looks like Lady Fell and Lord Blackwood are gonna jump each other's bones," you mused, smirking, adding, "though I heard she's already hiding a growing belly and is trying to nab herself someone more mature in age with the intent to trick the Lord into thinking she's having his baby."

"No," he scoffed in amusement.

"Yes!"

"That's diabolical. Blackwood's the father? Truly?"

"I'm pretty sure."

"Good for him, good for Blackwood - didn't know he had it in him." He paused to take a pull from his goblet of wine, continuing, "Hm! Look, look," he grinned coyly, "do you see what I see?"

"It's packed in here, so... No, I don't see whatever you're seeing."

He snickered, "Lady Mormont looks smitten with Lord Greyjoy, looks like she wants to eat him."

"I thought he was romancing Lady Redwyne?"

Aemond hummed in amusement, "Perhaps he is considering options, courting more than one lady. Are we taking bets this season, again?"

You grinned, "Of course."

"Lay out the criteria, what're the parameters?"

After thinking a moment, you answered, "The pairing and timeline of impending weddings?"

"The stakes?"

You just shrugged, "Bragging rights?"

"Oh, c'mon, Rosie," he tisked.

"Fine, uh, how about... 10 Gold Dragons?"

"Both our families have enough money."

"Then you decide the rewards."

He lowered his voice, ensuring his family couldn't eavesdrop, "If you win, I'll go to Highgarden with you next time you visit. But if I win, you have to come flying with me on Vha - "

"No," you snapped instantly.

Aemond smirked, "Those are the terms, my Lady. Do you accept? Or will the Rose of the Realm shy away from challenge?"

Well, when you put it that way...

"Fine," you relented. "You're eager to lose so bad, let's do it. Who do you think will couple first?"

"Does it count if I get at least one correct? Such as, if I predict Lord Umber and Lady Lannister, but Umber marries Lady Tully, does it count that I still predicted Umber?"

You mulled his idea over, humming, stabbing a piece of roast goose from your plate to place in your mouth and chew thoughtfully. "Hmm, no, no, you gotta get the couple completely correct."

Aemond nodded, accepting your terms, "You really don't wish to go flying, do you?"

"What gave me away?"

Sharing a chuckle, Aemond finished, "All right, Rosie, bring it on."

When dinner concluded, once more, patrons were allowed to mix and mingle; dancing to the live band, drink spiced wine to their heart's desires. Like the common wallflowers you were, you posted at the side of the room with Aemond, content to watch the sea of vying adults trying to establish and rush courtship. It was the most comfortable you could be at these events, being anxious in judgmental crowds and seeking salvation from Aemond's domineering aura.

"Lady Tyrell," Jason Lannister purred as he approached you with his chest puffed out, "I was hoping to hold your ear tonight. Your father was telling me about your love to ride horses."

"Oh, my father said that?"

"That's who he said he was - "

"My father's in Highgarden, my Lord," you corrected, knowing for fact that Evin always described himself as your uncle.

"Ah, well, right," Jason cleared his throat in embarrassment. Did this pompous arsehole just lie about talking to your father to give the illusion he was an honorable man? That your father approved of the golden headed Lannister? "Perhaps you would honor me with a dance?"

"Perhaps not," Aemond cut in sharply, bringing the tension to focus.

"My Lord," you distracted, on behalf of Aemond's anger, "uh, thank you for asking, that's very kind of you. Though I'm afraid, I'm all, uh, danced out. I won't be on my feet much longer."

"Means fuck off, Lannister," Aemond growled, appearing positively murderous at the honey blonde's audacity.

Jason eyed Aemond, stiffly bidding, "I see. My Prince, my Lady, enjoy your evening."

You bid the older widower the same, Aemond chuckling the moment the lion was swallowed by the crowd. "As if you'd ever dance with a Lannister, let alone court him," he mused, looking down at you. "But he had the right idea, you need to dance at least once. Shouldn't waste this dress standing on the side with me."

"I'm quite comfortable here with you," you shrugged off, seeing your uncle at the royal banquet table exchanging hushed words with King Viserys and his Queen, Alicent.

"C'mon," he held his hand in offer, palm up.

"What? No, no, Aemond, I'm not dancing - I've two left feet!"

"You can break every toe on my feet and I'd still ask you. Just one dance. With me, Lady Tyrell."

"You don't dance!"

"Perhaps the mood has taken me. C'mon, petal."

Your head turned from left to right as if looking for someone spying on you. The moment your hand laid daintily in his, you melted right there on the spot, not having any coherent recollection about how you ended up in the middle of the overzealous contenders. You realized you'd follow this man anywhere.

Beating off your immense anticipation and overwhelming excitement to join The One-Eyed Prince for an intimate activity, you kept your composure amongst everyone else. But, my Gods, did you want to scream in delight the moment he placed one hand on your waist and the other clasping yours to raise in the air at your side. But in this position, you could feel the ridges of his stomach - making you briefly feel embarrassed, wondering how you must've looked to the members of court.

"You sure about this?" You whispered nervously, but you had a feeling that was due to the intense concentration he pinned you with.

"We'll be fine, Rosie, just breathe and follow my lead. I got you."

So launched your dance with Prince Aemond Trgaryen, second son of King Viserys. You couldn't divert your gaze from his porcelain, angled face to save you from overthinking your dancing skill - or lack there of. A few times, he'd smirk and whisper how good you were doing, mind flashing to an image of you and he, married, tumbling in bed sheets together while he praises you. Everything he did became sinful to you; every touch, every glance, every smile, every private studying session setting your skin on fire and heart to beat rapidly.

It was a longer song, string instruments creating a pleasant, ideal, slow-paced, soft environment. Yet you couldn't hear the music, too focused on Aemond's single piercing eye and quirked lips. It was as if the two of you existed outside of time and reality, forgetting the people packed in the stuffy room. Aemond told you softly, "See? You're not so bad at dancing - you just need the right partner."

You wanted to be partnered every single dance from now until your death with Aemond.

"I thought you couldn't dance?" You coyly questioned.

"I said I don't dance, not that I couldn't."

To your idle shock, Aemond gave you a few twirls that made your hair and dress fan around you in an angelic motion. Dare you say it, you even laughed with mirth when you found yourself enjoying the courting season more than ever before - all thanks to your best friend and hopefully, soon-to-be intended. You were acutely aware of his hot and heavy hands holding your flesh, knowing this feeling would burn into your skin to remind you of his closer-than-close proximity. To remind you of his gentleness, to remind you of this dance and the way he gave you his complete and undivided attention.

When the musicians concluded the song, you were grinning authentically while joining in the applause to show appreciation towards the artists.

"Gods," you panted, "that nearly winded me. Think I'm out of shape."

"And you said you had two left feet," he mocked with a scoff, head shaking, but the smirk on his lips told you he wasn't serious. "You're a natural, Rosie."

"You're not such a bad dancer yourself, my Prince," you complimented, the applause subsiding as a new song began. "Though you'll have to excuse me while I get a drink."

You parted way in search of two empty goblets and one of the servants carrying decanters of spiced wine. After being served, you rocked on your toes to try and gaze over the heads populating the room. You were unsuccessful, so, you backed up to the edge of the crowd and moved around the involuntary empty loop along the wall, behind the pillars. There was no reason finding the white haired prince with an eyepatch would be this difficult, yet, you got more than halfway around the room before finally locating him.

Once again, he was leaning on a column, but he wasn't alone. No, there was a gaggle of Lords around him, all exchanging chatter about the Ladies they had to choose from this season.

"Well, c'mon, what about you, Aemond?" Cregan Stark pondered. "Things with The Rose look like they're escalating - congrats. Are wedding bells on the horizon?"

Hearing your name, you quickly scurried behind the same pillar, just out of sight but able to still listen. Look, eavesdropping was highly frowned upon, you knew it was bad manners, but if you heard men gossiping about your name, you would've done the exact same!

Aemond scoffed in pure amusement, "Come off it, Stark."

"No, c'mon, mate, I saw you two," Cregan continued, "dancing together, pressed all close."

"You two make a handsome match, logistically speaking," Paxtan Florant labeled. "Could marry someone abundantly worse, I think you two are quite the pair."

"Handsome and logical as it may look, there's no possibility I'd court the Lady Tyrell, let alone marry her," Aemond declared with a chuckle, your heart stalling and brows wrinkling together. "The Tyrells only just obtained their name in court, they're still too low born for a prince to entertain. Peasants like that are uneducated, prominently not intelligent enough to be my counterpart; uncultured, unwise, unable to retain most information we study during lessons."

You blinked in shock. If anything, you were Aemond's ONLY intellectual counterpart!

"So, she's not as smart as you, mate, so what?" Cregan cocked his head. "You don't need smart, you need fertile and capable."

Though he was attempting to defend you, Cregan's words made your skin prickle. How could they think you weren't intellectually on their level? Was it because you were a woman? You read the same books, attended the same tutoring sessions, was questioned on the same material they were and hardly ever answering incorrectly! And yet now you're reduced to your reproduction system?

The Prince scoffed, "Think about it, if I married a Tyrell, their lowly standing would taint the Targaryen bloodline."

"So, it was all an act?" Paxtan snickered, "C'mon, mate, you two looked dazed, all enamored with each other. Can't convince us there's nothing there, not after that."

Aemond chuckled, "You want the truth?"

"Lay it on us."

"I shared a single dance with her because I pity her. Don't any of you? The way she all but repels suitors? Surely, you've noted her dresses as well? They're terribly revealing, unlike anything a proper lady would don. No self respecting woman nor future princess of mine would wear something like that. It's as if she's so desperate for attention that she has to flaunt her flesh just to get a man to look at her since her personality surely doesn't reel suitors to her."

The men laughed, your mouth dropping open in offense. You're not chasing men away - look what happened with Jason Lannister! It was Aemond who told him to fuck off! After years of friendship, was this truly what Aemond thought of you? How did it come to this - the man you loved, the man you considered your best mate, slandering your name to any able ear willing to listen? How could he speak such calamities about you? Was this entire friendship a folly, just a cover for his pity? Was he only your 'friend' to entertain his own selfish boredom?

Was everything just in your head?

"I don't know, I like how she dresses," Tyler Lannister mused, the teenaged son of Tyland Lannister, Jason's twin brother.

"None the less, I find desperation unattractive in a woman," Aemond rejected, tears gathering in your eyes to silently stream down your cheeks. "Besides, Lady Tyrell isn't my type, she talks far too much. Truly, there's never a moment of silence, I cannot even hear my own thoughts when she's prattling - and it's never anything of substance, just useless nonsense. It's as I said, it was a pity dance, I felt sorry that she has little to no suitors."

"Seriously, mate, have you considered the reason she has no suitors might be because of her proximity to you? They might stay away because they feel threatened by your friendship, thinking she's spoken for - and trust me, no man here would dare compete against a prince for a lady's affection," Cregan scoffed, mildly disgusted by Aemond's choice words.

"The courts know there's no affection shared between Lady Tyrell and I. We are simply friends - no more or less - and that's as far as our relationship will ever progress."

Cregan hummed, nodding his head sarcastically. Then his curiosity questioned, "Answer this: are you attracted to her?"

"Truthfully, I just don't think she's... Attractive enough to be my wife. She's a pretty lass, I'll admit, but if she's called the Rose of the Realm, I fear to learn the appearance of other ladies from Highgarden." A few lads chuckled. "Additionally, there will be public outings I must attend, and as my wife, the people will expect to see someone alluring - someone qualified and fit for the position as a princess of the Realm. Someone stunning and worthy of the title, able to fulfill royal responsibilities."

"Gods, why're you so against this match? You're being terribly superficial, judgmental, and defensive - she's your friend, after all. Wouldn't this be a love-match? Do you know how rare those are?" Luras Arryn snarled, sounding genuinely distraught and jealous.

"And if you're so against her, why do you constantly escort her to formal events?" Arnas Blackwood tacked on. "It creates the illusion that you're courting, my Prince, surely you're aware of that."

"As I stated, her blood isn't pure, but she's also criminally clingy. She's always lingering around and I feel awkward not inviting her to royal events - since she's right there, all alone, in front of me. I only invite her out of obligation. Again, I take pity on the girl, knowing when she leaves the Red Keep, she'll never experience this life again."

"Well, if not the Rose of the Realm, who do you have your sights on?" Luras Arryn asked stiffly.

Aemond's smirk was clear as day, answering swiftly, "The Lady Floris Baratheon is appealing enough."

The lads obnoxiously cheered in supportive approval, directing the conversation in a new direction about how bloody gorgeous Floris was - one of them even mentioning she deserved the nickname, Rose of the Realm.

You heard enough, more than enough, more than you ever wanted to know in an entire lifetime; rightfully insulted past belief and violently nauseated, feeling cold and mechanical. As swiftly as you could, you rushed to set the goblets down and speed walk towards the doors, shoving past both individuals and couples; not wanting to linger where you're clearly not wanted. Where you were apparently not welcome. After making your inconspicuous getaway, tears fell faster than earlier, mind replaying Aemond's words while sprinting to your chambers.

Describing you as clingy, desperate, unattractive, not his type. Dubbing you an improper lady who lacked self respect. Thinking you talk too much - that you prattle nonsense. Labeling you unworthy and unqualified to be his wife or assume the title princess with all the relating responsibilities. How he pities you and doesn't ever want to be more than your friend; thinking you're uneducated, uncultured, unwise. Declaring House Tyrell peasants who would taint his family's pure bloodline. How you 'have' to flaunt your flesh to attract suitors - since your personality did you no favors. Marking you a friend out of obligation...

Were you even friends? Did you even understand the definition of a friend? Have you been operating in a delusion this whole time?

In the words of King Théoden: how did it come to this?

Feeling utterly humiliated, you ran away from your peers; lungs heaving, huffing and puffing, panic ready to overflow. You burst through the wooden door, fully sobbing by now, engaging the iron lock and dropping to lean your weight against it.

Most, if not all, of your insecurities were aired out like soiled bedsheets for all eligible bachelors to know. Aemond might as well have hung a painted wooden sign around your neck: DESPERATE AND CLINGY LOSER - DO NOT ENGAGE.

Nothing about this situation felt normal, it all felt terribly impossible; absolutely heartbreaking and vile, like it was some kind of bad dream. But everyone woke up from dreams. You'd never wake up from this, you'd be forced to remember and relive it day after day. Tonight would haunt you, cast a dark shadow around you as if a thick, temperamental, torrential storm. Yet every storm eventually breaks, but tonight, there was no remedy, no shelter, no protection - you had to weather this alone.

It felt foreign, enduring anything by yourself. For years, Aemond was your partner, always at your side, level headed, insightful and wise; supportive, protective, calming, and something like a safety net when you faced trouble. Now, he's left you devastatingly alone; where after tonight, the very idea of being in the same room as him made you nauseated and anxious, fearful and small.

In that moment, your brain screamed that you were no longer welcome in the Red Keep - Uncle Evin's position be damned.

You sat on the stone cold floor for the better part of half an hour before your bottom turned painfully numb. After sluggishly hiking up your dress skirt, you removed your shoes and tossed them aside, standing to swollen feet to unhook your jewelry and place everything in their safe and proper place. Then, a particular necklace made of red rubies set in a thinly crafted Valyrian Steel chain caught your eye and mocked you. It was Aemond's gift on your ten-and-eighth nameday, laid in a plush velvet case for adequate preservation. This simple piece of jewelry was your absolute favorite in your collection, a treasure beyond words of appreciation that you greatly admired, now rusting in salty tears.

Being gifted this necklace had once convinced you Aemond might've felt the same for you as you do him. You remember even trying to rationalize it as a sign that the One-Eyed Prince was at a loss and didn't know how to confess his feelings. That he was shy, perhaps afraid to ruin your friendship if you didn't feel the same.

Angry tears of betrayal fell like acid over your cheeks, gritting your teeth, clenching your jaw as you snapped the velvet box closed and with a barbaric grunt, hurled it (with impressive strength) across the room. You felt so confused, so lost; deceived, lied to, and puppeted - and then the anger flared again when you realized what family you were angry with.

Why bother being upset, emotional, distressed? You had no right because your feelings truly didn't matter - not in the grand scheme of things. Nobody cared about your trivial feelings! You were just a Tyrell and by comparison, a peasant nobody who never deserved, earned, warranted, or was bestowed respect. In fact, to the Targaryens up on their mounted pedestals, none of you mattered - not a citizen in all Seven Kingdoms.

In fact, it was almost treated as a curse to not be a Targaryen. Some kind of punishment for daring to exist amongst the privileged royals as a lowborn - which, despite your family's newly established status in court, you were still characterized as. In their eyes, anyone NOT a Targaryen was lowborn; deemed unworthy to the white haired bloodline, being merely tolerated for the sake of politics, strategy, and reproduction. It was a sick game, and the Targaryens always won.

They do what they want, when they want, with no consideration towards other people's safety, emotions, wellbeing, stability, or comfort. The Targaryens were always stationed above everyone because, after all, they were closer to Gods than men; entire family spoiled, entitled, narcissistic, holier than thou, avoidant of any and all consequence.

They're legendary. Untouchable and worshipped.

And you? You're just a Tyrell, the tiny beetle trampled under the God's boot. Beetles were essential to any ecosystem, similar to the Tyrell's providing to the Realm productions of wheat, grain, barley, and corn. Similar to your family, beetles are also disposable - meaning the Targaryens might tolerate you, but they never need respect you. They could stomp you into the ground whenever they wanted because where one beetle died, three more takes place. Where one House might falter and fall, become doomed, eradicated, or subcomes to tragedy, others step up in an effort to establish their usefulness; prove their House's necessity to the Realm's ecosystem, attempt to diminish the threat of being razed to the ground by dragon fire.

Why be so upset with the Targaryens when they can do no wrong? What right did you have? And how could you ever think a Prince of the Realm would remotely be romantically interested in you?

You felt delusional and pathetic, crying over a man who was never in your league. Yet betrayal gutted you like a fish, a bright reminder that your friend would expose you like that; offer loud disrespect, speaking hatefully, to finally voice hidden malcontent. It felt impossible to stomach that your first friend, your favorite person, secretly hated you.

Because how could he not? You did not love anyone you could speak so lowly of.

Sobbing harder, you yanked pins out of your hair, working at break-neck speed to strip from your gown, then freezing when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the vanity mirror. The reflection looked distraught with exhausted red eyes; glowing in defeat, in a desperate need for a long, hot soak in the washtub. With shaking hands, you tossed a spare blanket over the mirror, despising the sight of yourself as Aemond's words continued to ring on a loop in your ears.

Clingy, desperate, unattractive, not his type. Improper, lacks self respect, talks too much, lacks suitors. Unworthy, unqualified, pitiful, never desiring to bloom past friendship - which is constructed around obligation. Uneducated, uncultured, unwise. Unfit, tainted, lowborn blood with a lowly personality. Revealing, tempting dresses.

Your mind, heart, and head screamed that no matter how hard you hoped, prayed, and tried, you'd never have a place among the Targaryens. Yelled that Aemond's right: you're ugly on the inside and out; damaged goods, undesirable - all because you were not born amongst fire and blood. Bellowed about your lack of quality, purpose, contribution. Reminded you that the one person you trusted unconditionally never truly wanted to be your friend; that he spoke horrendously on your name when absent, didn't value who you were - and never did.

He took every insecurity you confided in him and weaponized it; used it against you, made it into a joke with people you didn't trust nor want to know about you...

You sunk into the bath water, submerging as if to hide from your own thoughts.

The knock at your chamber door didn't surprise you. Servants and your uncle had been coming and going since you first refused to leave the morning after the ball. You figured Aemond would come around eventually, too curious for his own good and still under the impression he had to play "friend", thinking his deceit was unknown to you.

Aemond called your name through the door, asking, "You awake? Could I come in?"

You didn't answer.

He sighed, "C'mon, I know you're there. You haven't been seen in four days, you have to eat. You should get some air, feel the sunshine."

Silence.

Aemond frowned, "When you're ready, come find me, petal. I'm worried about you."

You wiped the tears off your cheeks, pulling your knees to your chest. For four days, you couldn't stomach the idea of running into the Prince, just wanting to avoid anyone or anything that would remind you of what Aemond said. You understood there were several decisions left to be settled, lost in an endless rampage of confusing emotions, maids bring you full trays of food and removing them with more than half still left.

Humiliation knotted in your chest, the harrowing thought of punishing yourself for being so stupid something you couldn't fight. All you registered was the feeling of betrayal, something that inked into every single thought you had, but with it came sinking realization that you were done. Simple as that.

On the sixth night, you sat with Uncle Evin, forking through your full plate and blurting, "Don't do it."

He paused to finish the bite in his mouth, "Do what, honey girl?"

"Don't - Don't make a match with Alicent and Otto. Don't make the arrangement with Prince Aemond."

Evin nodded slowly, washing his bite down with a mouthful of wine. "There a reason for your change of heart, love? The Queen thinks it's a handsome pairing. Just before, you seemed content with the match - dare I say, you seemed pleased?"

"Things change, Uncle," you spoke evenly, "and I can't shoulder this responsibility. In fact, I... I do not think I'm capable of making my own match. I will be stepping away from courting for the time being."

Your eyes seemed distant and dark, proving serious. So Elvin agreed easily, allowing you to withdrawal from the current season officially. He understood something was deeply amiss and didn't want to make worse whatever turmoil you teetered in. He didn't want to upset you and make things worse - you obviously had enough going on.

Aemond knocked again the next day, "Petal? You awake?" But you didn't answer. He sighed, "You've been missing lessons, love, and I just... I brought you some books. Thought maybe you'd like to catch up?" When there was no answer, he ended, "I'll just leave them here for you, petal... I'm not sure what's wrong, but I hope you're all right in there... I miss you."

You scoffed quietly, wiping your tears.

Ten days after withdrawing from the courting season, you left your chambers for the first time. But it wasn't like anything changed - it was still as if you were invisible, like a ghost. Losing your best mate turned you silent, refusing to attend lessons and since Aemond was your source for solace, had turned to seeking shelter at the Sept. It was the easiest way to avoid everyone - mostly Aemond.

He had shunned the religion the older he got, though respected his mother's devotion to it in trying times. He couldn't remember the last time he was in the Sept... So, it was perfect for you; a safe space.

You were no longer seen in the library - a once daily occurrence. If you ever wanted to read, you sent your ladies maid to collect content for you; but the drive to learn and read had abandoned you as swiftly as Aemond's loyalty. The stables grew cold in your absence, refusing to ride; something that troubled your uncle gravely. No longer did you take meals with family or Aemond, always seeking solitude to eat alone in your room or the physical kitchens; the Red Keep growing dark over your lack of sunshine - that had shone so brightly in the previous weeks. Even then, when you ate, it was in small quantities to only sustain yourself; mostly feeling nauseous when food was put on your stomach.

The first time Aemond saw you, you were returning from the Sept in a dress that reached close to your pulse point of your neck. He tried to get to you, but you slipped through the cracks of the Keep and disappeared when he dodged around a set of Kingsguard. Yet it was still a comfort to him to know you had left your room finally.

He knocked on your door about half an hour later, but like usual, you didn't answer.

"Rosie?" Aemond called, sighing. "I know you've not been feeling yourself, but, uh, tomorrow's Helaena's nameday. We're having dinner for her on the terrace..." He waisted, not hearing a single thing from within your chamber. "You're invited, as usual, petal. Your uncle said he'd attend, wanted you to know you're always welcome at our table."

But you didn't show up, you couldn't bear to see any of them.

You didn't eat that night, you were far too anxious and spiteful against yourself that you refused to allow yourself to indulge in celebrating your companion.

Despite withdrawing, you still heard rumor of all the matches being made and the courtships established through your ladies maid. A cord struck in your gut when you heard the couples you had bet upon were public and engaged, but so were Aemonds... Which meant you both won; and if things were different, would mean a flight on Vhagar to visit Highgarden. On nights of merriment, you would sit alone in the Godswood sometimes; attempting to connect to the Old Gods, but they never spoke back. They never connected with you.

Tonight, you were under the blood red leaves in earnest curiosity; quiet, just as you had been since the day you found out Aemond's betrayal and discouraged your uncle from making a match. It was there Elvin found you, frowning as he took a seat beside you in the grass.

"The Old Gods do not speak to me," Elvin offered softly.

"Nor I," you whispered.

"Yet I always feel at peace here," he nodded, sighing deeply. "I must ask you something, honey girl."

"Hmm?"

"Do you... Do you wish to depart? From King's Landing, I mean?" He questioned. "I ask because I intend to ride for Highgarden, your father's nameday nears. Your mother intends to throw him a grand celebration, since turning 50 seems such a milestone."

"You ride for home?"

"Tomorrow morning."

You paused, then answered, "I would like that... There's nothing left for me here."

Aemond's words had done irreparable damage, making you feel worthless and alone. Bitter. Damaged and unworthy of any such match; forever worrying if your best friend could harbor such ill will and hatred for you, surely, a husband would as well. Yet you were not new to being a woman; you knew the role you were to play, how marriage was strategic and calculated. Political. You could be a wife, you were so sure of it; but would you ever feel worthy of love? You feared you never would.

"We will stay a few weeks."

"I don't know if I would like to return, Uncle."

He offered a sad smile, "I figured as much. But should you want to, feel able to, you may return. You, my sweetling, are always welcome at my side."

You leaned into his shoulder, sighing softly. "I should thank you," you whispered in the wind.

"For what?"

"For taking care of me all these years," you lifted off him to meet his eyes. "You didn't have to, but you wanted to... And you've shown me a father's love when I thought it gone from my life. Thank you, Uncle."

He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, humming, "Don't tell the others but you were always my favorite. I consider it a great pleasure to raise such a gorgeous young lady - and I mean that, honey girl. Inside and out. Now," he pulled back and found his feet, offering his hand to you, "come, we've packing to complete."

"Of course."

However, while in the midst of packing, you felt a jolt in your heart. This had been your home of a decade or more; these people were who you grew and learned with. Who influenced your life in the best and worst of ways; they did not deserve to read your praise and thanks for friendship in a letter... So, you swung a cloak on and ventured out of your room.

Otto was first since he was the easiest to say goodbye to. He was gracious of your parting words of thanks; telling him how much you appreciated his wisdom and riddles.

Aegon was next. He insisted you share a last goblet of wine together - since you did not intend to delay your parting. It turned into a bit of a drinking game with his mates, but you didn't mind; far too used to the company of these debaucherous lechers. Dare you say, you enjoyed yourself.

Helaena was after, your words harder to say as your emotions strangled you. She was a sweet girl, an endearing companion, constant and dependable, albeit a bit strange and unorthodox. But you loved her all the same and cried tears of sadness when hugging her tightly as a last ditch effort to convey your gratitude for her authentic and generous friendship.

You only offered Ser Criston Cole a soft, "Farewell."

Alicent was perhaps hardest to say goodbye to. After Aemond, you were probably closest with the matriarch and found her wisdom and lessons a privilege to learn. She was kind to you; usually with a stern hand, but that was because she could recognize the little girl you once were who missed her mother tremendously. She introduced you to religion, another common bond. She encouraged you, supportive and curious; sharing affinity for the histories, often reading to one another for moments of peace.

Saying goodbye to Alicent hurt. You both shed tears of sorrow, the Queen wishing you the very best and insisting you return for her nameday and other celebratory events. She told you to write, told you to keep in touch; insisting if and when a match was made, to invite her since she would love to attend your wedding. Truly, Alicent considered you one of her own and to know you were departing in pain wounded her.

King Viserys was last. He was already in bed, half-asleep, a Maester at his side; but still, he accepted your audience. You thanked him for his hospitality and kindness - especially to your uncle. You thanked him for hosting you, for allowing you residence at the Keep and the for the years living under royal privilege. You told him you'd not forget his generosity.

You returned to your chambers after that and finished packing. You didn't sleep.

When morning broke, you stood in the courtyard with Elvin; packing the wagon you would use, your horse tacked and waiting as you both intended to ride. Alicent and Helaena came to see you off, hugging you tightly one last time before the Queen offered you a handheld velveteen case. "Just a little something to remember us by," she smiled lightly.

"Oh, as if I'm in a hurry to forget you?" You mused. "My Queen, this is too much, I cannot accept."

"You have not opened it."

"I do not need to, I know you," you smirked. "Your leadership these years is enough gift, my Queen."

"I'm not taking it back, you might as well accept it," she insisted. "Helaena and I picked it out together..."

You lifted the case lid, blinking in shock and gasping lightly. There laid a gorgeous chain necklace of Valyrian Steel, a dragon pendant dangling from front with gems of bright emerald - surely a representation of the Hightower side.

"Thank you, Your Grace, my Princess," you breathed, closing the case and caressing it to your chest. "It's more generous than I deserve but will treasure for the decades to come."

Queen Alicent nodded and pecked your forehead, leaving you alone with Helaena to speak with Elvin. The moment her mother was gone, the Princess asked, "Did you say goodbye to Aemond? I'm surprised he's not here."

"No," you spoke softly, "I cannot, Helaena, it is too painful to even look at him - let alone share words of parting. I have nothing left to say, no more words for him."

She frowned, "You know... I don't think he meant what he said. He says things he does not mean when anxious or feeling as if he's cornered."

Your head cocked, "What? H-How do you know what's been said?"

"I saw it - in one of my dreams."

You sighed, "I know you mean well - "

"I just do not wish for you to think that is his honest opinion about you."

"If it wasn't, he would not have spoken so loudly for so many to hear. Your brother has never sounded so sure, Helaena, I do not wish to relive it."

She sighed and nodded, "Will you write?"

"Every week," you promised, the two of you meeting foreheads and breathing as one. "Take care of yourself, Helaena."

"You, too, Rosie," she smiled, letting you depart. Alicent clipped your new necklace in place and gvae you a final hug, watching you mount your horse, stare at the pair for a moment longer, then follow your Uncle Elvin out of the courtyard.

As you rode down the streets, Aemond came sprinting out of the Keep in a blind panic after running into Aegon in the hall. Normally, Aemond wouldn't have bat an eye at his hungover brother, but he had said something about you drinking him under the table and demanded to know what Aegon meant. Upon hearing you had "left", Aemond sprinted to your bed chambers and didn't even knock - just burst in.

Never before had the Prince felt such anger as when he learned you had left King's Landing without saying goodbye. Without a single word to him - as if the past decade+ hadn't meant anything! He needed to know, Aemond needed to see for himself the truth because surely, someone was mistaken. His brother, surely still drunk and misremembering because there was no possible way you could've left! Not without Aemond! Not without a word! He refused to believe it.

He panted, tears gathering in his eye, finding your room bare and stripped. Aemond's breathing picked up in panic, hands shaking as he stepped into your room; looking, desperately, for any sign of life. But there was nothing... Nothing, save for a letter addressed to him left on your table with the ruby necklace he gifted you for your 18th nameday.

Gingerly, Aemond reached out and plucked up the necklace. He frowned, petting the jewels in disbelief; noting the way a few were missing, some loose - evidence of your anger. Slowly, Aemond sunk into a chair and with the necklace still in hand and his heart hammering in his chest in a rattle, opened your letter.

Aemond ― I know you'll be the one to find this, of that, there's no doubt. Sooner or later, you will learn of my departure and come looking, and for that, for being unable to say anything in person, I am sorry. Though this might come as a shock, it shouldn't as I would hate to give you the satisfaction of being right by burdening you with a desperate goodbye. I would hate for you to think I am clingy, even after our friendship died. So, I figure a letter is better than nothing. Goodbye, Aemond. Though all a lie and dedicated ruse, thank you for the years of friendship. You made time in the Red Keep pleasant enough. ― Rosie

Aemond sprinted to the courtyard, flinging open doors and shoving past patrons; desperate to find you, understanding you overheard him all those weeks ago and needing to apologize. He needed to explain himself, the confirmation now that Aemond was the cause of your pain and reclusion? His heart was about to burst. He skidded to a halt in the dirt, turning left and right and in a circle as he realized the gates were open and you were not in sight.

"Aemond?" Helaena questioned softly, Alicent taking to her side. "Brother?"

"Wh-Where is she?" He panted. "Rose - Rose - Rosie, where is she? Where is she!?"

"She's gone, Aemond," Alicent frowned, shaking her head slowly; startled by his desperate tone, "gone with her uncle back to Highgarden."

"When? When? When did they leave!?"

"She's gone, brother," Helaena snipped, sending him a look of disappointment; ears ringing from her dream, repeating what he had said to you.

Aemond swallowed harshly, asking his sister, "She heard me, didn't she? I know you know, Helaena, please, tell me. She heard me?"

The Princess nodded and walked away, the One Eyed Prince turning to his mother in desperation and for the first time in 10 years, perhaps more, he collapsed in her arms. Emotion clawed at his chest and into his throat, starting to tremble, sniffing heatedly; his mother's arms tight and comforting.

"I love her," he whispered.

"I know," Alicent answered, "but she should've been the one you told." A pause and her hand lifted to caress the back of his head, just like when he was a child. "It's too late now, Aemond. She's gone."

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

does this count towards the Clingy Baby collection? since Aemond technically calls her clingy amongst other things?

621 notes · View notes

lilacgaby · 25 days ago

Text

˗ˏˋdie for you.ᡣ𐭩

after an attempt on your life, the royal family turns to promising young blood, hoping to find someone to protect you. katsuki was chosen and ended up dedicating himself to you in a way even he never predicted.

✩pair. knight!katsuki x princess!reader tags. fem!reader, royalty, no quirk au, swords, violence, pet names, reader is referred to as she/her, fighting, fluff, happy ending, wc. 7k

✩note. this is like really old, i decided to let it graduate from draft jail while i work on the otherr

A sword at your throat. the familiar weight of your crown on your head.

that's all that you processed before it faded to black.

who knew a walk in the garden would be so dangerous? the attempts on your life were growing more frequent by the day, the recent tensions between your kingdom and the villages surrounding it just fueling the violence.

of course, this, much like the other three attempts in the past week hadn't worked. the witches and wizards around you successfully poisoning the man holding you and killing him instantly.

it barely shook you anymore, the feeling of waking up in your bed safe and sound after being threatened. perhaps you were getting too used to the sensation of being in danger.

but this didn't help you in the case of your mother, who worried, and rightfully so. they had called you into the grand courts the next morning, giving you a day of reprieve before letting you in on the plans.

“[name].” your father, the king spoke. his eyes looking sorrowfully down at you, as if he pitied you. “we will be searching for new crowns guard members and keeping you under full time surveillance from now on. these attempts are

becoming more and more common, and you have no means of defending yourself.”

you sighed, crossing your arms. “i don't have any say in this? being under constant watch is disgraceful.”

“my dear, it is only what's necessary! i argued over this in your stead for days, but with these recent attempts.. it is what needs to be done.” your mother pleaded with you.

a moment of silence passed over, thoughts flowing like a waterfall through your mind. knowing she had the final word, you bowed in mock agreement. “i give you my full permission to do whatever needs to be done.”

“very well then, fetch me the fresh blood.” the king barked. “only the best, i want a good bunch weeded out before the trials.”

at this, the consultants bowed and rushed out to the villages. the trip to the village was almost an hour away, and people working for the royals were not very favored at this moment because of the strained relationship. the horses led them to the villages, the sound of their stomps the first evidence of the new arrival's presence in the town.

katsuki, who had been sharpening his swords outside, was the first of the young men in the village to see the royal carriages arrive. with a glare, he waltzed over to the central square, where many others had already gathered.

“i apologize for the intrusion!” a man, wearing silks worth more than a house stood, speaking quite loudly. “we have job opportunities for any young soldiers in training! if you pass the king’s trial, your family will be greatly compensated. any willing to enter, please,” he stepped over to gesture to the carriage with empty spots. “gather your belongings and settle into the carriage before sundown. thank you!”

katsuki scoffed, looking over at the other imbeciles who thought this would be their big break. did he care for royals at all? no. but this would be a way to climb to the top. a way to become a big name. so, he'd go.

he walked right back to his mother's store, a tailoring business, and starting packing. “i'm leaving.” he announced to her and his father, a satchel packed and swung around his arm as he looked nonchalantly.

his mother only waved a hand. “go do whatever you'd like, but don't die.”

his father, with a tearful expression, wished him good luck with a smile. “you'll do amazing son.. though i don't know where exactly you're going. you've always been destined for greatness.”

“of course i am. don't fail the business in my absence.” he turned and walked out of the only home he'd ever known, to go and see what these royals were all about.

he was sat next to a lot of the village boys he'd grown up with, a bunch of them must have lost hope, because the numbers dwindled down severely. with a smack of a whip, the horses began to move, guiding the now twelve men to the kingdom.

the estate was even more huge up close, the golden sunlight from the fleeing sun making the castle seem all the more impressive. even katsuki couldn't help but voice his opinion, muttering under his breath, “wow.”

they were dropped off in front of the main door of the castle, leading to the main chamber. the twelve nervously walked in, greeted by the sight of the king’s piercing eyes, and the queen's grateful smile.

“is this all who came then?” the king said, his voice bellowing throughout the castle. at a man’s nod, he began to address the villagers.

“you all, i offer my thanks for your participation. recently, multiple uprisings have been taking place in different villages. ones that have threatened my daughter’s life. we've done our best to keep this out of the news, so most of you have not heard of this before, correct?”

the boys all nodded, surprised at the revelation that the princess might have been killed.

“the reason why i sent out for you, is because i want not only a personal guard for my daughter, but a crowns guard protecting the perimeters of the castle. all of you, for even arriving here, will be getting paid handsomely.

but, to ensure only the best is personally assigned for my daughter, you will all be dueling right now.”

surprised gasps echo and bounce off the walls, none of them were prepared, but katsuki was determined to win even in this odd situation.

“you may be forced to fight in the middle of the night or the middle of a garden, being ready at all times is key for a successful knight. if you fall to the floor you lose, this is an all out battle, so do what you must to win.”

the queen personally handed out training swords made of wood to each of them, making them all bow in thanks. even katsuki felt honored in a way, the queen’s presence the very essence of royal.

they all assumed fighting stances. since there were no rules other than to stay up, it meant they'd need to be aware of all possible threats from any direction.

“begin.”

katsuki went in with guns blazing, knocking a man to the floor instantly. others charged at him at the same time, so with a timed dodge he made them collide, then eliminated them simultaneously.

it was obvious that the king had been taken by katsuki. his eyes locked onto him, small commentary between the queen and him as they examined the way he fought, his fighting style brute yet calculated.

there was now only three left, the weaker of the men being taken out the fight in a flash. katsuki let them take the first move, them naturally charging at eachother because of their proximity.

with a smart move, katsuki knocked them over as they were on the offense, kicking the other’s lower body to knock them over.

applause rang out through the court, servants and consults clapping for him. even the king and queen gave him their respects. katsuki could only smirk, he really was destined for greatness.

“it's decided then, you my lad, will be assigned to my daughter’s detail tomorrow morning. tell me your name.”

he pointed his sword at the king, making the servants appear applauded at his audacity. “katsuki bakugo. don't you forget it.”

the king could only let out a hearty laugh. “i don't think i could bakugo. as for the rest of you, you all fought valiantly. you will all be assigned your positions tomorrow by the head of the knights. bakugo, follow that young lady over there. you will sleep in only our best chambers.”

he smirked victoriously as he followed the older servant, his satchel in her grasp. with a polite smile, she walked with him down the hallways. he decided to question her about this princess, wondering if she'd be stuck up. “hey, lady.” he asked, making the girl jump.

“ah.. yes?”

“this princess of yours, how's she act? stuck-up?” he questioned, noting the way the servant’s eyes seem to get offended for her. “no, no! i've worked for many princesses you see, and she's been the most gracious one i've had the pleasure of serving.” he nodded to signal he was listening, as she continued.

“she has her moments of frustration, but never takes it out on her staff. she's a very kind princess, the future of this kingdom is safe in her arms. that's what i believe young man.” the lady finished, stilling in front of a large door. “this is where you'll be staying, the princess herself stays in the room across the hallway. from when she wakes up you will need to be there, so get some sleep.”

she opened the door, revealing a huge bedroom the size of his shop. the bed weaved of silk and linen, pillows feathery soft, a gorgeous window offering a view of the moon. there was even an area dedicated to just weaponry, not to mention his own private bathroom. he felt speechless as he was left alone there, the clothes he wore feeling unfit for this new environment.

he fell asleep pondering this new life of his. wondering if this was going to be worth the headache of being at some princesses hand and feet.

he was woken up by the same old lady, embarrassed of how deep of a slumber he'd been in. those sheets were heavenly, he'd have to get some for his parents back home.

he was given royal clothing, the cloth feeling light and refreshing on his skin. a purple band around his arm signifying his connection to you. as he put his sword on his back, he walked over to the room across his. he knocked on the door and waited.

the sight that greeted him made him think he had died and went to heaven. the old lady had never mentioned just how gorgeous you were, the silk night robe clinging to your figure in all the right ways, your face still dreamy from being half-asleep, your hair slightly messy from how you slept on it.

“hello?” you said, your hands holding the door open while eyeing the handsome knight outside your room. he was very clearly eyeing you, you'd be flattered if you weren't so sleepy. “are you my new knight?”

those words finally snapped him back into reality. “um.. yes. yes i am. im bakugo.” he replied, standing tall and at attention now. “oh, okay. come in bakugo. i'm [name].” you stuck your hand out for him to shake, but he had to bite back the urge to kiss it.

he didn't know why he was panicking so bad, this had never happened before. he had known several gorgeous women back in town, ones that had even come on to him, but you were on a different league to them.

he had always laughed and joked about those knights who'd willingly lay their lives down for a princess, but he'd never understood them more then when he was just in your presence.

he shook your hand tightly, before letting go and just standing awkwardly. “i don't really.. know what to do.” he said honestly. “you don't have to watch me all day, just don't leave me alone. i think.” you said before going back to lay on your bed. “i don't have any meetings or stuff today so, i can give you a tour around here if you want? i don't feel like just doing nothing all day.”

“anything you want princess.” the words had slipped out his mouth before he could process it. he'd smack his hand over his mouth if he could, but he didn't want to embarrass himself further. you didn't seem to notice his turmoil though, stretching and walking over to your bathroom. “okay, that settles it then. you can lay on my bed while you wait for me bakugo.”

you changed into a casual everyday dress, choosing the one with the easiest corset to tie yourself. basic makeup and hairstyle aside, you walked out ready to take him around.

after styling your hair, you grabbed his hand off where he was sat on the bed. “let's go!”

you were going to be the death of him.

your words were barely processed as he was enthralled by the sight of you. your mouth was moving yet he couldn't hear anything more than the sound of his beating heart. your skin was glowing, lips soft and plump, eyes shining and full of intrigue.

his hands grew sweaty, he hoped you didn't notice as you pulled him along with you for the fifteenth time today. you'd finally finished he though, until you revealed you'd only gotten through one floor. you laughed at his distressed expression, and brought him out to the garden instead.

“this is my favorite spot.” you admitted, taking him to farthest side of the garden where you could get a view of the village. his village. “i wish i could visit, it seems so.. inviting, you know?”

“that's where i live.” he pointed to the house on the edge of the village, although it was small from his perspective, he could recognize the cloths laying outside from miles away. “my family owns that shop, i practiced outside there everyday.”

your eyes grew wide, smiling at the news. “really? that was you? i always saw someone running around there.”

he flushed, he'd never realized he'd had an audience. especially not a royal one. “youre not lying right?”

“of course not. people watching is all i really do out here, besides almost get killed you know?”

“huh.. those are two very interesting hobbies.” you smacked his arm playfully. he decided to keep telling you about the village. pointing out the villages, explaining what happens inside, telling you about his daily life back there.

he felt your eyes on him the entire time, though thankfully he was starting to get more used to your presence.

they had brought dinner out for the two of you, the spread being larger than katsuki ever had in his dreams. the amount of meats, salads, cheeses, and wines on the table would've lasted his family for months he thinks.

“choose whatever you'd like bakugo.” you invited. he nodded and started to eat, you did too. most of the items went uneaten though, you two getting full before even eating half of it.

“it's okay, they'll save this so don't feel bad.” you assured, taking his hand a final time. “i'm kind of sleepy though so, i'm gonna head to bed.” he followed you back to your room, feeling like a boyfriend leaving his girlfriend at her home when you left him with a, “goodnight bakugo.”

the next day was one where he actually had to work. sitting around your bed as the servants surrounded you, tightening the corset around you, doing your hair, and finishing off with your makeup. he followed you and your entourage as they led you to the meeting room.

he stood by your chair as various other royals came up to you and your family. he was surprised at the utter lack of awareness they seemed to have, asking for large sums of money and help with no embarrassment.

'aren't rich people supposed to be fancy? why do they ask for things more than the poor?’ he pondered, looking down at you and your bored expression.

for some reason, the topic of your hand in marriage was a recurring topic whenever the foreign royals didn't seem to get far. they'd talk about you like some object, a prize to be won.

all you'd do was yawn in boredom your father denying every request that day. no wonder everyone wanted to murder you.

a knife was flung at you faster than anyone could process, the only sound was the unsheathing of katsuki's sword in response. he was now in front of you, the knife in his hand as the guards swarmed the royal who had attacked you.

the king and queen looked at him in respect, as you did in awe.

that happened a lot more over the months, you and him grew closer and closer, but any public meeting where your attendance was needed would be a hotspot for potential attempts.

you had started to grow enamored with him too, his name slowly changing to a more familiar “katsuki.” his presence being by your side even when it wasn't required, you would test the bounds of his physical affection more. the sight of you two hugging as you read was not a strange one anymore, in fact it was preferred for the both of you.

he used to only had seen you as a stepping stone for his success, a rock in the bridge for his assent to victory. but as he held you in his arms, hearts in his pupils as he doted over you silently, he knew he was too far gone.

late night talks turned into affection shared between you. forbidden kisses and pleasures untold as you held eachother through the night.

his room began to dust, his bed going unused as he'd be with you eternally. it became an armory more than anything, as whenever he'd finish up any business he'd find himself running back to your side. he wished to live eternally there.

he was in his room once, disrobing after spending another day with you. he was lost in thought, before he heard you scream. he ran out, sword unsheathed, eyes rabid and wide as he saw the tip of a sword pressed against your neck, blood dripping down as the offender held you as a shield.

“you're a villager too aren't you? don't you realize with the death of the princess the kingdom will surely fall?” the man spoke, deepening the sword into your throat as katsuki gripped the hilt of his so hard he thought it'd snap. “i am a villager. im a villager at heart and in soul. but killing someone without any affinity other than blood is purely idiotic.”

the man scoffed, throwing you to the floor and making you groan. his boot pressed onto your back as his sword hung over your vital organs. “i see. you choose to be a dog.

even so, if you do behead me here it will achieve nothing. we want change, change that cannot be achieved without th–”

“shut up.” katsuki swung his sword through the heart of the man. “don't look up [name].” he directed, before throwing the man out of your window where he had broken in from. he watched as he fell to the ground, the blood of his body painting the pristine white roses red. he closed the window, closing the blinds just for precaution. you were looking at him, eyes wide and white with fear. your hands shaking

he looked at you, an expression in your eyes you couldn't place. the hilt of his now bloodied sword was still tight in his hands, until he let it drop to the floor.

he held his arms out, letting you crash into him and confide in his protection.

you sobbed in his arms, this attempt was different, it was calculated. you were all alone, and scared. he stitched your neck up, the blood spilling all over your dress as you whimpered in pain. you didn't want to be left alone now, not ever again. katsuki didn't leave your side though, he slept with you through the night. being there when you woke up.

he held you through the morning, no words leaving his lips. your eyes were swollen from crying, you face buried deep in his chest. he had a thoughtful expression on his face as he caressed you, suddenly pulling you out the bed with a determined look on his face. “trust me.” was all he uttered before leaving the room.

he dragged you down to speak with your father in the morning, he decided he was going to voice his opinions whether you liked it or not. “katsuki no! my father hates being questioned, please listen!”

as you begged him not to, he pulled you along like a ragdoll. “we have to do this princess, it's for your sake and mine.”

that silenced you for the rest of the walk, he didn't have to pull you as harshly now, walking beside you with your hand tightly gripped in his still.

you finally made it to the king's quarters, where he looked surprised at the sudden intrusion. “bakugo, [name], what are you two doing here?”

“why not just change the kingdom and appease the people instead of letting your daughter get hurt over and over? her neck had to be stitched together yesterday, and a man's corpse is rotting outside her bushes.” katsuki ranted, finally letting his inner turmoil's out.

“it's not your job to question me. silence now.”

“i don't think i will be silent, king. you'd rather let your daughter potentially die than give a bit of money to the poor? you hear out so many royals, so many failures of your rich society, yet you can't give an audience to the people who've built your wealth?”

silence loomed over the room, you'd never seen your father so angry. he bitterly laughed, clapping his hands. “so passionate, i knew you village peasants were interesting.”

“father, don't speak of them li–”

“silence. both of you.. since you believe that my kingdom isn't up to your standards.. do you realize that you are committing treason?”

your eyes and katsuki's shot up, you stood in front of him and started to plead. “father no! he was trying to protect me!”

“i know what is best for this situation. [name], leave the room. now.” the king ordered. you looked to katsuki for a brief moment, begging him silently to remain cordial, before waiting outside the door.

“come here boy.” he ordered to katsuki, making him walk closer hesitantly. the king started to speak with a smirk on his face.

“i will not be changing the way my kingdom was built solely because a couple peasants are starving to death.”

katsuki’s eyes widened, he continued. “my kingdom was built on this bloodshed, this suffering. a paradise where all are equal is just a fantasy, besides,

i can always have more children if she dies, i'd just prefer for my wife to not be upset at her death.”

katsuki felt nauseous as the king grew a sick smile on his face. “i like you. i see myself in you. i will give you two options lad. one: leave and do not utter a word to her, go far away and speak nothing of this. or two: i can strike you down right now and act as if you threatened me first.

how about it, peasant?”

katsuki packed up his things silently. ignoring your questions, the heaving of your chest as you begged him to stay. the tears staining your dress, the fear he knew would strike you at every moment.

you had turned him around, forcing him to look at you. to look at those eyes filled with tears just for him, the stitched up scar on your neck, the feeling of your hands pulling his. “katsuki.. why– why are you doing this? did he say something to you?” you hiccuped. “just answer me! please!”

the only safe response he could give you? none at all. he ripped his hands out of yours, breaking both your heart and his as he did so.

he walked away from you, not looking back as he entered the carriage that'd take him to a village, from where he'd have to walk a bit further.

he tried not to think of you, but how could he not when he saw you in everything? in the golden sun that served to mock him, in the grass that flowed freely in the winds, in the flowers that sprung from the ground.

he could never leave you behind. not your memory.. and not you yourself. as he sat in a tavern, drinking his sorrows away with the purple band clutched in his hand, he overheard a group of men speaking.

“so we do it next week, we have to kill the king.” they whispered, cloaks hung over their heads as they pointed out locations on a map. he was walking over before he even realized it, the group staring at him as he examined the map. he thinks it was just his liquid courage, or maybe it was just the desperation to go see you again.

“this is all wrong. the castle isn't laid out like this.” he muttered, grabbing a marker and starting to correct it. “hey– what are you doing man?” a red-haired man spoke.

“i'm fixing your map. you wanna kill the king right? i do too.”

“oh, awesome man!” he cheered. “sit next to us random guy.” he patted the seat next to him as katsuki sat down, finishing up the changes on the map.

“how do you know all this stuff?” a red and white haired man spoke, eyeing him curiously. “i was a knight until yesterday.”

this made them all gasp. “well.. guess that means you'd know it the best then, huh?” a green haired one spoke, “we really want to do this right so, help us with our strateg–”

“you can't kill the princess. that's my condition.” the group of five collectively eyed each other in confusion. “uh.. that's fine i guess. weren't really planning on it.” a yellow haired guy replied, “but we just want the king down. if you wanna keep her safe that'll be your job then random guy.”

“bakugo.”

this prompted them to go around the table introducing themselves. kaminari, kirishima, todoroki, midoriya, and shinsou. they had a mix of magic and manpower. but the only way they'd pull this off would be with immense planning. well, them anyways. he only had one goal: to save you.

the plan was for him to go to your quarters and escape with you while they caught the king by surprise. they'd need to cast spells and put the guards to sleep, the only blood they wanted to shed would be the king himself’s.

katsuki sighed. they had a week to prepare, but he didn't know what he'd do for that week away from you. he fell asleep to the thought of you, training vigorously for the chance to apologize. to take you with him, to build a life with you if you'd grace him with it.

to take you to meet his parents, his village. to show you how life entails, what it could be for the two of you:

during the day he'd train, detailing the schedule of not only the king but the servants around, the guard’s hours in full. he'd slash trees and bang rocks in anger and frustration over the cards you two had been dealt.

at night he'd ponder what to say to you. how to approach you, how to confess what had happened. how to convince you to leave with him, leave your life of luxury for one of uncertainty. a lifetime of uncertainty just to live with him.

the more he pondered the more he'd groan in frustration, which would make kirishima smack him on the head with a pillow. “go to sleep.”

he'd grunt and fall asleep to the moon, the same one you'd be looking at too.

you hadn't been faring well since he left. your days consisting of crying and screaming. you didn't leave your room, you didn't attend meetings or your classes. you didn't go to your spot in the gardens, the sight of the village mocking you, knowing he was so close yet so far.

he had rejected you. he probably hated you, the words from the man who wanted to kill you had stuck in his mind and now he was disgusted by royalty such as yourself.

your handmaids approached you with the caution you'd give to a baby, talking to you as if you were on the verge of a breakdown every second, which you were.

you hated that you'd let him into your life so easily, how much he held over your heart. you hated your feelings for him and how safe he made you feel.

what you hated the most was that you didn't hate him at all, you realized as you stared at the haunting moon, not knowing he was looking at it while thinking of you too.

days passed and it was time. they had spent the previous day traveling, bribing some horse traders to let them in through the gate. they all wore cloaks and had magic that would allow them to communicate throughout the kingdom together.

they all split up, katsuki by himself as he fled to your section of the kingdom. they all fled to surround the king.

not like he cared for that old man. all he wanted was to see you.

he noted how they hadn't bothered to clean the blood spilled on the rose beds under your window, the window that he started to climb. he hung on the windowsill as he peeked in to see you, with bloodshot eyes holding yourself. you looked as if you hadn't slept right in days, a look of paranoia over you.

he knocked on the window making you jump. at the sight of.. him with a cloak on? you scurried over, opening the window as he hopped in. “[name], i uh.. i came back for you.”

“why did you leave me in the first place katsuki?” you looked despaired, your hands clenched into fists as you stared at him.

“i.. i don't have much time. and i didn't have much time then. but i need you to come with me [name].”

“what?”

“we need to leave this place. you can't be here for a couple days and i can protect you. please [name].” he bowed down to you, pleading for you to just trust him though he didn't deserve it. the communication magic was setting off rapidly, they had made contact with the king already.

“get up katsuki, just– i'll go okay?” you said, helping him up. “but you're gonna explain everything.”

“right.” he helped you pack a bag full of essentials for you, helped you change into a dress that allowed for more mobility. he helped you down the window, holding you tight as you fled down the castle walls. he even let you keep your crowns and jewelry, your rings and things you'd loved from your birthdays.

you'd boarded the stowaway carriage, waiting for his ‘partners’ to get back. he neglected to tell you they were here to murder your father, the king, but from the spell tugging in his head he knew.

it was a success.

you had fallen asleep on his shoulder, cuddled up to him, snoring slightly. he held your hand as he held you close, you were so knocked out even the yells of happiness from the rebel group didn't wake you. they escaped into the night, kaminari and kirishima teasing katsuki about his relationship with you.

“no wonder you wanted to save her so bad, you're in love with the princess.”

“we can officiate your wedding man! as long as you don't want actual papers–”

“shut up.”

the rest of the ride was filled with that mockery, the rebels filled with excitement of what would become of the kingdom. the king was dead, the queen and princess were missing. well, the princess was safe and sound by katsuki’s side in actuality, but it's not like the townsmen knew that.

you woke up to the feeling of being carried, it was already dawn, the sun had begun to awake. katsuki was carrying you to a house of some sort. your arms wrapped around his neck, your eyes half lidded from sleep. “morning 'suki.” slipped from your lips as you yawned.

he looked down at you with a small smile. “good morning [name], we have uh-.. things to talk about. a lot of things.” he was nervous, you could tell from his tone. he set you down on a bed before sitting beside you, holding your hand.

“so, would you like the good news or the bad news first?” he asked you, avoiding eye contact. “bad news? what bad news?” you questioned, examining both him and yourself for injury. “well, your father is dead and your family has been dethroned.” he said quickly, not allowing for pause.

your eyes shot up in surprise, and just as quickly.. you.. yawned?

you weren't having much as a reaction as he planned for, he planned to have to beg you to stay, console you as you screamed out in terror, but you looked almost unimpressed. “i mean.. he had it coming. he treated everyone horribly, i hope mother is alright though.” you muttered. “anyways, the good news?”

he was flabbergasted to say the least, but he continued. “uh.. yeah. since he died the villagers usurped the throne, destroying the royal structure of the land.”

“can i keep my crown?"

“sure you can.”

“then it's okay with me.”

“oh..”

“is something wrong..?”

“nope, uh. thats all.”

“so, can we explore the village today?”

“yes, yes we can.”

he took you everywhere he imagined in his dreams. you got along with his mother, surprisingly. fitting in like a missing puzzle piece into his life.

wealth had spread throughout the lands, everyone prospering as the people had elected for a people run government.

you'd adjusted surprisingly well. your huge gowns had become modest smaller ones, your jewelry now gone and replaced with leather bands. you'd had to do chores now, jokingly complaining but honestly learning to like the mundane aspects of life.

with your knight at your side, now devoted to you in not only soul but heart, you knew everything would go perfectly.

tags: @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @hiimsaraaandyou @amayaaaxx

@i-the-fluffo @uy242c @irenne-stans

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sfznyxio · 2 months ago

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-ˋˏ WITHIN THESE CASTLE WALLS ˎˊ

SYNOPSIS. saving twins from getting killed who turn out to be rulers of the celestia kingdom isn’t part of the plan. neither is being instated as a member of the royal guard as their gratitude. with the alarming increase of assassinations, you’re wary of everyone in the castle. who is your ally or enemy, or who will be the one to capture your heart?

CHARACTERS. albedo, arataki itto, dainsleif, diluc, eula, jean, kaedehara kazuha, kaeya, kamisato ayato, sangonomiya kokomi, tartaglia, thoma, xiao, zhongli

CONTENT. gn!reader. royal au. fluff. 1.3k words. rewrite of within these castle walls [i] at my old main blog @/verxsyon. inspired by fire emblem: three houses. mentions of assassination attempts which many of them failed. assassination attempt (tartaglia). seduction (sangonomiya kokomi).

VERA. can't believe it's been two years since i wrote wtcw. time flies by really fast. i miss this series so much. will i rewrite for the other parts? no, because respectfully, they suck oof. initially, wtcw was supposed to be one part so here it is lol.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ALBEDO

a noble descended from a lineage of alchemists. albedo prefers to stay at home to tend to his research and to avoid social interactions. in spite of believing that relationships are bothersome, he’s only interested in you. as an attempt to create a friendship, he brings you flowers which one of his books suggested. he becomes self-conscious that his efforts may not be sufficient, you appear happy when thanking him and complimenting his thoughtfulness. for a split second, an awkward smile graces upon his lips.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ARATAKI ITTO

a mercenary of oni blood. infamous in his hometown for causing trouble with the authorities with his gang. itto is a popular figure because of his “dashing” looks and abrasiveness. his overconfidence is one reason why you can’t stand him. you never met someone this unbearable. he always disturbs your training by challenging you to a duel, lots of them. comes determined to win the match, but loses every single time. perhaps you’ll indulge him once more, just to see what happens when he finally will be victorious.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. DAINSLEIF

captain of the royal guard and royal advisor to the throne. assassination threats have been circulating throughout the kingdom, so he constantly puts his guard up even though you saved the twins. it’s the fact that they trust a complete stranger with battle experience who can kill them any time. nevertheless, he takes you under his wing in accordance with their wishes. his paranoia is understandable, but you believe he’s too harsh on you. he assigns you extra work to prove your worth as an asset. you hope you’ll survive the initiation process.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. DILUC

head of house ragnvindr, tycoons of the wine industry. everyone swoons over the flame-haired man. one of the girls at the flower shop can’t stop talking about diluc like a knight in shining armor. your opinion of him is that you don’t get the hype. politics are supposedly not that important to him, but it’s a whole different story when the royal guard is involved, opposing their operations. it’s suspicious that his comments align with a vigilante who wears a ridiculous costume at night. for sure, you think he deserves respect to protect the place called home.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. EULA

exiled daughter of house lawrence, the clan with a tarnished reputation. the twins are gracious enough to grant eula a position of a royal soldier, upsetting the majority of citizens. you admire her dissociation with her clan’s history, wishing everyone sees her past that. she doesn’t deserve hate for something that is beyond her control. you want to befriend her, but her sense of humor is unique in a way that it kind of gives you chills down your spine. if it makes you feel any better, she likes you for seeing her as herself.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. JEAN

head of house gunnhildr. jean dedicates her life to serve the kingdom, to the point where she tends to overwork. more worried about the state of the state more than her own health, she doesn’t know how to reconnect with her younger sister and what romance feels like out of the romance novels she reads. as someone who spends most of their life in one place, you sympathize with her, therefore offering to solve her dilemma. after all, both of you need breaks from interfering with assassinations. she is confused as to why she feels warm when you’re around.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

a former refugee from an insular empire. upon entering the kingdom a few years ago, kazuha was thought to be an assassin which he of course got arrested for, but was pardoned and given the option to live here and serve the crown. in the present, he patrols the seas to fend off intruders. at the end of the shift, he disappears from his crew just to find you. his captain knows that he is smitten with the soldier who was trained as a mercenary. the poems he recites at sea are essentially confession letters in hopes to make you his one day.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KAEYA

a fellow royal soldier adopted into house ragnvindr. the elderly consider kaeya like their own grandson, but he is so far from angelic. he misleads patrollers to another direction of the crimes and dodges your questions regarding his whereabouts. the citizens might be involved in his antics, avoiding eye contact with you whenever you mention him. apparently, you’re dense, failing to notice the signs of him trying to make a move on you. he’s been doing those things to make you pay attention to him and have you all to himself in private.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KAMISATO AYATO

head of house kamisato. responsible for managing external affairs, ayato is required to travel, always away for business. although it’s said he goes on trips most of the time, his appearance is a mystery. rumored to be tall with blue hair and a mole near his mouth, everyone joins in the hunt to find him at the royal party, sending his sister and retainer in a frenzy to protect his identity. your dance partner fits the description to a t. when the guests discover that you were dancing with the commissioner, your partner kisses your hand and whisks away into the night.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. SANGONOMIYA KOKOMI

head of house sangonomiya. kokomi is also its military strategist. having the ability to foresee the tactics and its outcomes of another army, she is a force to be reckoned with and a valuable ally to the crown. you had the pleasure of being invited to her guest room, where she was waiting for you in an extremely thin nightgown. not the type to show emotions, it’s rare to see her amused, and she beckons you to come inside. not only is she well-versed in the art of war, she’s surprisingly an expert in the art of seduction as well.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. TARTAGLIA

a diplomat from a neighboring kingdom, or so he claims to be. there is something about childe that sets him apart from the other diplomats who visited the kingdom. your first encounter with him is not pleasant. a mutual distrust forms between the two of you, yet the space you both share is tense. one night with crazed eyes and a knife at your neck, he reveals that he was assigned to assassinate the twins. you’re in the way, but oddly enough, he doesn’t want to hurt you. it seems like he’s doing this against his will, or it’s the tension talking.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. THOMA

retainer of house kamisato. thoma is a fan favorite among the royal staff by being the type of servant they needed. honestly, you don’t like him. but you don’t dislike him either. the epitome of perfection, but too perfect for your taste. he’s also too nice for his own good, hearing him apologize things he isn’t at fault for and saying yes to all requests from the staff. as he serves a clan full of swordsmen, he knows how to fight. so when you unleash a surprise attack on him, he doesn’t retaliate. it reminds him of a similar incident in the past that changed his life for the worse.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. XIAO

a deity sworn to protect the kingdom centuries ago as a promise to one draconic god. xiao finds humans strange, but you’re even stranger, as a child who fought against a beast by yourself in the forest, accidentally fulfilling a commission for a mercenary group who struggled to kill it for months. he despises crowds, but decides to pose as a royal soldier to meet you. when you encounter a dangerous creature during your patrol, he comes to your rescue. then he whispers into your ear to call his name in times of desperation before disappearing into thin air.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ZHONGLI

a knowledgeable historian. zhongli is friendly and enjoys having casual conversations over tea. there isn’t anyone within the castle who has not been invited to his corner of the library. you have been there as a regular you already lost count. from those meetings, you track his mesmerizing amber eyes. you swear that you’ve seen them in some history books of a draconic deity who once presided over this kingdom. it’s impossible, as higher beings perished during the cataclysm, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise.

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endless-ineffabilities · 2 months ago

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Chemical Override (bonus chapter 4) - Above The Gods Eye

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: I had envisioned bonus chapters as not too integral to the main plot (as in, you will be able to follow the story without reading them), but this one... this one might just count.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

A series of moments from the vault, occurring in part eight of the story, now yours to enjoy. 🤍

The one with the second sons…

The photoshoot has wrapped, and the cast of House of the Dragon has drifted into all corners of the set, exchanging laughs in between much-needed sips of caffeine. The next item on Entertainment Weekly’s agenda is the video segment recordings, pairing cast members for various games and interviews.

Fabien and Freddie finished their narrative recap of season 2, with more jokes than actual informative recaps. Harry and Bethany played a game where they guessed whether the line is from House of the Dragon or Game of Thrones. Tom and Emma played a ‘which sibling' game, leaning into the dynamic between Aegon and Rhaenyra that clearly should have been explored in previous seasons.

As it happens, Matt and Ewan are paired up for an Aemond or Daemon game, meant to give the audiences a glimpse of what to look forward to. Their notorious rivalry, culminating in a battle that will be their last.

The two film their segment in Studio E, the set consisting of the great cellar of the Red Keep where Balerion’s massive skull looms on a pedestal. The dozens of candles surrounding it have been lit, casting dramatic shadows as they take their seats, facing each other in what could easily be mistaken for the start of a duel.

“My name is Ewan Mitchell and I play Aemond Targaryen,” Ewan starts.

“And I’m Matt and I play the Daemon Targaryen,” Matt follows. “And we’re about to play Second Sons: Aemond vs Daemon.”

“Let’s go,” Ewan rolls his shoulders, his sense of competitiveness all fired up, intensified by the fact that the man in front of him potentially could become his rival off-screen. That is, when it concerns the battle for your affections.

He can still hear it ringing in his ears, the sound of your laughter in the background, distracting him during the photoshoot. That laugh, so addictive, so yours, was a melody he could listen to forever - except when it’s Matt Smith who’s the culprit.

The lads take their cue to read the first prompt displayed on a screen above the camera. The game begins.

“Who is the better swordsman?” Matt reads aloud with a smirk. “Well, that’s obviously Daemon, mate. He’s older - ”

“Age doesn’t always mean better,” Ewan counters smoothly.

“Ah, but he’s battle-tested. He fought in the Stepstones, and was the Commander of the City Watch, for heaven’s sake. What’s Aemond got?”

“Aemond spent years and years training with Criston Cole in the Red Keep yard, honing his skill,” Ewan argues. “He clearly has the dedication. He’s disciplined.”

“Training,” Matt scoffs, turning to the camera as if sharing an inside joke. “Put Aemond out there in a real battle, then we’ll talk.”

“Alright, alright,” Ewan concedes, biting his cheek to keep from saying more. “Next one. Who’s the better dancer at the royal ball?”

Matt can’t help but chuckle, “Neither of us are inclined to - ”

“Yeah, I don’t know.”

“But if we had to pick, then I'd say Daemon. We saw him dancing in the first season, didn’t we?”

“I don’t think Aemond would be much of a dancer,” Ewan says, before adding with a smirk to the camera, “unless it’s with Vhagar.”

“Oh, yeah?” Matt asks him. “Short of dancing partners, is he? Can’t say I’ve got that problem. I’ve got Rhaenyra, I’ve got my daughters, and of course, the lovely Alyna.” His voice drops at the mention of your character, and he notices a telling flicker in Ewan’s expression. The younger boy latches on to it, hook, line and sinker.

Ewan’s brows scrunch, not missing the bait. “Oh, she wouldn’t dance with you,” flies out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“Alyna wouldn’t?” Matt tilts his head, feigning hurt.

“She’s… she’s too busy fighting the war,” Ewan quickly musters. “She’s got better things to do.”

“Mate, I think we all are. But that wasn’t the question.”

“I just don’t think she - ”

“She’ll dance with Daemon,” Matt says confidently. “Once she realises how good he is, then it’s game over.”

“I disagree,” Ewan easily says to the camera, willing the viewers to side with him.

“Next,” Matt continues, “Who’s more likely to get into a fight at the tavern? Is this… so far, it's been all Daemon! This one too.”

Ewan nods, but adds slyly, “Aemond’s not one to waste his time at the tavern, no.” His answer is an apparent concession to Daemon, until he adds, “which is why Alyna would prefer to spend her time with him. He’s calmer… more reliable… no unnecessary tavern brawls or anything…”

“Calmer, mate?” Matt rolls his eyes, chuckling to himself. “Come off it, yeah?”

“Compared to Daemon, he clearly is.”

“He killed Luke and Rhaenys!”

“That was an accident,” Ewan shrugs. “He feels bad for it.”

“Alyna better steer clear,” Matt points to the camera, making his point.

Ewan shakes his head in protest, “I don’t agree.”

“So, for this one, again, it’s Daemon,” Matt finishes.

Ewan lets it go, the Alyna comment lingering in the back of his mind. It didn’t seem like an Alyna reference; it felt like a message to you. His stomach twists, suspicious of the other game Matt seems to be playing at. Turning to the prompter, Ewan reads, “Who’s got… the better hair care routine? Oh wow.”

“Daemon’s been at some dingy castle,” Matt says, “clearly no showers there. Forget it.”

“Aemond’s got this locked down,” Ewan grins.

“Has he? Alright then,” Matt responds, amused. “He does have that pin-straight hair, doesn’t he? It’s almost like… well it’s almost like it’s a bloody wig!” He laughs, and some of the onlookers behind the camera mirror the sentiment.

“I did read somewhere about Aemond having a 20-step hair care routine… ”

“20 steps? Blimey, mate. I’m surprised he even makes it out the door,” Matt says. “Would you say he’s got better hair than the women on the show? Than Alicent or Alyna maybe?”

“Oh,” Ewan leans back, mulling it over. How to one-up Matt without making it seem too obvious? He’s about to respond, when he hears some soft giggling in the corner. It appears that you’ve made your way into Studio E with Phia and Liv. The sound came from Phia, who gives him a thumbs up when she notices his diverted attention.

Matt notices your presence too, and when the director waves a hand for them to carry on, he answers for Ewan, “We could say Aemond has the better hair. Alyna’s way too busy training with Daemon anyway. We do tend to get into that rough and tumble during our sword fights.”

“Mmm,” Ewan narrows his eyes. He then ignores or conveniently forgets the fact that it’s Matt's turn to read the next question. “Who’s more likely to fight a dragon for their lover?”

The two men lock eyes, the air between them charged, more so due to your appearance. If a rivalry is what the viewers expect, then that is what they’ll get.

Matt puts a hand up. “I think Daemon’s the one with the guts to fight a bloody dragon. Daemon will stand against anything and anyone. Without a doubt.”

“It’s different with him, though, isn’t it?” Ewan responds. “Daemon would be doing it for the glory. He’d be doing it for himself. Whereas Aemond… he’d be doing it out of pure devotion.”

“Are you talking about the same devotion he had for his brother? I’d say he’s more likely to burn his lover to a crisp, than fight a dragon for her.”

“There is a completely different dynamic with his brother,” Ewan explains. “I think that when Aemond falls in love, there is nothing at all that he wouldn’t do for them. In season 2, we already kind of saw him leaning into this reputation of being the most wanted man in the realm. So… he’d fight anything for his lover, that’s for sure. He’d burn the seven kingdoms down if necessary.” He turns to look at the camera, but he catches your eye instead. You’re shaking your head slightly at his answer, but the small smile that graces your lips tells him that you enjoyed it.

He simpers at your apparent show of approval, but Matt cuts the shared moment short.

“I think Aemond’s a young buck,” Matt says, “who’s desperate to make his mark. He wouldn’t know the first thing about devotion. But Daemon… that’s been his internal struggle this whole time. He’s proven that he stands behind his brother and Rhaenyra, no matter how much he tries to act to the contrary. But yeah, we’re going a bit off track here. What was the question? Who’d fight a dragon… ”

“For their lover,” Ewan finishes. “I would still say Aemond. Daemon is too unpredictable.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Matt wags his eyebrows at him. “But I’m standing by my answer. We clearly saw Daemon basically pledge himself to Rhaenyra in the last episode. What more proof do you need?”

“Aemond’s got something up his sleeve,” Ewan says. “He just wants to be loved, that’s it, and when he finds that, there’ll be no question of what he’s capable of doing for Al - ” He catches himself at the last second, before he fully lets slip your character’s name. “I mean - ”

Matt’s eyes light up, sensing an opportunity. “For Alys, you mean?” To the camera, he adds, “spoiler alert, everyone.”

“Right,” Ewan lets out a breath, “Of course.”

“Can’t be anyone else,” Matt challenges him.

“I don’t know for now,” Ewan tries to keep up.

“You currently have a bit of a lack in the lover department,” Matt smirks.

Ewan narrows his eyes at the apparent insinuation. He better be referring to the show. “Fine, then, we can give this one to Daemon. But as to their real-life counterparts,” he locks eyes with you again, “who’s to say? I bet I have this in the bag.”

Matt follows his line of sight, pleased when your attention switches to him. “I think that’s yet to be decided.”

“Alright, we’ve got some more,” Ewan quickly says, in an attempt to divert Matt’s gaze from you.

Matt reads, “Who’s more likely to maintain a good social media presence? Oh, bloody hell, we’re crossing over into uncharted territory with this one.”

“That’s interesting.”

“I’ve never touched it myself,” Matt shrugs. “I’m not on anything, only Facebook for a moment ages ago, but I did not have any desire in going back. Oh wait, we’re meant to answer for our characters. Apologies.”

“Hmm,” Ewan nods. “I don’t know if Aemond would be on social media, no.”

“Yeah, this is a weird question,” Matt says. “Maybe Daemon then? But only to post pictures of Caraxes or something. What do you think?”

“Yeah, Daemon can take this one,” Ewan replies. “Personally, I’m not on social media too much - ”

“But didn’t you jump into the fray recently? With… which one was it?”

“Instagram? Yeah, yeah, that was something.” His mind flashes back to the pictures he had up, both attesting to his love for you. But you had asked him to take the latest one down, which led him to deactivate the account altogether. Temporarily. If the fans assumed that the action was meant to symbolise an end of his involvement with you, then now would be the perfect opportunity to prove them wrong. “I did have to take a step back, because it was kind of overwhelming. I just needed to take some proper time off.”

“Oh really? I wouldn’t know,” Matt says. “Did you actually share some photos there?”

Ewan smiles, pleased at being able to answer this question. “Yeah, I shared a few of my most treasured ones. They were some great pictures, but I’ve got loads more of the same in my phone, and I - ” He throws a warning glance to the camera “ - I think I’ll be keeping those to myself for now.”

Matt, oblivious as to what he’s hinting at, reads the next one. “Who’s the better brother?”

“Aemond for sure.”

“Clearly Daemon.”

And so the banter continues for a couple more prompts, sharp yet flowing naturally, foreshadowing the frenzied fan reactions when the segment is shared online for all to see.

The one where Ewan needs his cowgirl…

Ewan paces around his dressing room, settling into his outfit, awaiting his cue from set. The outfit is a bold mix of traditional Western elements and high fashion: a tailored deep brown leather jacket with intricate embroidery, a crisp white shirt with ruffled cuffs, fitted trousers, and a wide-brimmed cowboy hat. His boots click against the wooden floor as he moves. He’s nervous but determined to impress you, even though it’s always been you with a knack for making his heart race.

After a while, he makes his way out of the dressing room and into the bustling set. The set is decked out to the theme. The director and crew are scattered all around, but Ewan focuses solely on finding you.

When he finally does, his world seems to slow down. You are standing near a vintage saddle, dressed in your own Western-inspired attire. Your smile is radiant as you speak to your assistant, and the way your eyes light up when you see him makes his heart skip a beat. No, it never gets old, he realises, you will always have a maddening effect on him.

He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and saunters over with as much swagger as he could muster. “Howdy, darling,” he greets in his best cowboy lilt.

You look him up and down with a smile. “Why, hello, good sir,” you say, even doing a playful curtsy.

“Ready to give them a show?” he asks, gesturing to the expanse of the set. Ready to be my cowgirl, darling? He wants to ask instead.

You hum a response. “As I’ll ever be. I’d say you’re a natural at this whole cowboy thing.”

“Oh, darling,” he smirks, “you’d be surprised by what I can do with my lasso.”

“Down, Mitchell.”

“Whatever you want, my cowgirl.”

The atmosphere is electric throughout the shoot, with Ewan constantly leaning down to whisper suggestive lines in your ear.

He finds himself getting lost in the intensity of the shoot, but his focus remains on you. It isn’t as if you are making it easy on him, with your lingering touches and flirtatious remarks.

The camera's shutter clicks away, and Ewan and you pose for one perfect shot after another. The set is alive with activity, but he only sees you, the lighting casting a warm glow on your rouge-stained cheeks. Forgetting where he is for a moment, his hand reaches up to caress your face, and he leans in slightly.

You pose accordingly, likely thinking that he’s just giving the shoot what it demands.

“What was that you were saying about a lasso?” you smirk, in an attempt to diffuse the tension, but it only spurs him on.

“Care for a demonstration?” he shoots back.

“Why not?” you reply easily, adjusting your stance.

“We may need a more intimate setting for that, darling.”

“More intimate than this?” you laugh breathlessly, the warmth of it fanning his face. He’s close enough that the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

He smiles, deaf to the low warning that escapes your lips when he leans in for a kiss on instinct.

Just as his lips are about to graze yours, the director’s voice cuts through the charged silence.

“Cut! Break, everyone!”

The spell is broken instantly. Ewan pulls back, his expression shifting from one of intense concentration to surprise and a hint of frustration.

You stand facing each other, flustered and left wanting. Ewan wants nothing more than to just reach for you and pull you in a closet, and show just how well he can use that bloody lasso. If you want him to. But he forces himself to croak, “To be continued, darling?”

You mirror his heated gaze, nodding once, before turning on your heel and heading to the break room.

When the set is mostly emptied, Ewan picks up the hefty lasso that’s been put aside. With a determined look on his face, he swings it expertly through the air, causing a resounding thwack. The movement is deliberate, a release of his frustrations about you. About Matt. About everything.

But it doesn’t quite bring him the relief he needs, because only you can offer that.

It’s only ever been you.

The one with the first date…

You glance at your phone to check the time, heart fluttering with anticipation. Matt had promised to pick you up at 2, and it is only a minute past, but you’re already standing nervously in your living room. Not a moment too soon, your buzzer alerts you of his arrival, and you press the button to allow him upstairs.

You sneak one more glance at the mirror, smoothing a hand over your t-shirt and jeans. You opted for a casual look, dressed up with some jewelry and heeled boots.

Finally, there’s a knock at the door and you grab your purse as you walk up to meet your awaited visitor.

There he is, standing in the doorway, as impossibly charming as ever. Matt’s dressed in a perfectly fitted black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms, paired with staple dark jeans. His tousled hair looks like he ran a hand through it on his way over, and his signature mischievous grin plays at the corners of his mouth as he takes you in.

“Hello there,” he greets cheerfully.

“Hey, Smithy,” you blush under his gaze.

“You look absolutely incredible,” he says, his gaze sweeping appreciatively over you, “As can be expected. You are my Alyna, after all.”

“Thanks,” you manage to say, your voice soft, almost breathless. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Glad to hear it. I was worried I’d underdressed,” he teases, though the way he carries himself shows that he knows exactly how good he looks. He steps a little closer, his hand lightly grazing your arm as he does.

“You ready to go?” he asks, his voice just a shade deeper, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that still catches you off guard, no matter how exposed you have been to his charms.

“Yeah,” you nod, suddenly aware of how close you’re standing, the air between you thick with tension. “Let’s do this.”

The late afternoon air is crisp as you walk with Matt down a quiet street near Hyde Park. The anticipation from earlier has settled into something more relaxed, yet there’s still an undercurrent of excitement, an unspoken awareness of the new territory you’re both navigating.

Matt leads you to a small café tucked away from the bustle of the city. It’s quaint, with ivy creeping up the walls and soft lights glowing through the windows. As you step inside, the rich aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries envelops you, and you can’t help but smile. The interior is just as charming as the exterior, and a few patrons sit scattered throughout, each absorbed in their own worlds. Too absorbed to notice two somewhat renowned actors entering the premises.

“Pick a spot,” Matt says, his hand gently brushing the small of your back. The touch is fleeting, but it’s enough to send a warm tingle up your spine.

You choose the table with a view of the park just beyond the glass. Ever the gentleman, Matt pulls out a chair for you before settling into the one across from you.

“Hope you like this place,” he says, his tone easy and genuine. “It’s one of my favourites. Feels like a bit of an escape from everything, you know?”

“It’s perfect,” you reply, taking in the cozy atmosphere. “I can see why you come here.”

A waitress comes over to take your order, and Matt gives you his recommendations which you happily go along with. The familiar way with which she addresses him as Mr. Smith confirms his frequent visits. Once she leaves, you lean back in your chair, letting yourself relax into the moment, though you are aware of his eyes watching you the entire time.

“So, how are you finding the city? It’s different from set life, that’s for sure.” Matt asks, his eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and something deeper. Something you can’t pinpoint just yet, though it’s not unfamiliar. You’ve seen that look before. From Ewan. The sudden thought of him drives a wedge in your focus, and you have to shake it off before you answer.

“It’s been great,” you say, smiling. “It’s nice to be able to explore it more this time around, since I've got some downtime. And, of course, the company’s been pretty good too.” You add the last part with a playful tone, which makes him chuckle.

“Oh, I’m sure it has,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eye. “But don’t let Ewan monopolise all your time. I’m around if you ever need a break from him.”

The mention of Ewan brings a subtle shift in the conversation. It’s light, but there’s a hint of something more - an awareness of the connection you share with Ewan that both complicates what you have, or what you could have, with Matt.

“You’re a good friend, Matt,” you say, your tone still light but more sincere. “I appreciate that.”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips, though there’s a flicker of something in his eyes. “Friend, sure,” he says, his voice low and smooth. “But, just so you know… I’m here, if you ever want more than that.”

It’s a simple statement, but the weight of it hangs in the air between you. He’s not pressing, not trying to make you uncomfortable, but it’s clear that he’s laying his cards on the table. Matt’s always had a way of being direct without being pushy, and this moment is no different.

You meet his gaze, feeling the sincerity behind his words. There’s a part of you that’s tempted, drawn in by the way he makes you laugh and feel seen. But there’s something - someone - holding you back.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply, smiling softly.

Matt nods again, his smile resurfaces, as sure as the sun rising. “That’s all I ask.”

The waitress returns with your coffee and pastries, breaking the tension with the clink of cups and the sweet scent of buttery croissants.

After a moment, Matt takes a sip from his own cup and raises an eyebrow. “You know, I heard that drinking coffee in a café like this can increase your charm significantly. I think it’s working, do you?”

You play along, pretending to consider this. “Hmm, I don’t think you need help in that department. But… I’ll still be careful. Just in case you charm me into agreeing to a second date.”

Matt leans closer with a grin. “Second date? Love, if I’m being honest, I’m already planning our third date.”

The conversation shifts back to lighter topics - your favourite places in the city, funny stories from the set, and his many revealing anecdotes about Fabien. Like the one where he got properly sloshed after a night out at the pub, so much so that he stuck some croissants in his washing machine thinking it was the oven.

“To his defense,” Matt exclaims as you giggle uncontrollably, “the two appliances are similarly shaped!”

As the date progresses, you feel undeniably warm and comfortable in Matt’s presence, but you also can’t ignore the lingering thoughts of Ewan. Your phone had buzzed at some point, and when you snuck a glance at the screen, it lit up to reveal three missed calls from Ewan One-Eye. He knows you’re on a date, so he must be interrupting on purpose. Thankfully, Matt’s enthusiastic regaling keeps you from lingering on Ewan - from worrying about him, missing him… from wishing that he could freely allow himself to take you on a date just like this.

As you and Matt stroll back to your apartment, the city lights cast a warm glow on the pavement, creating a magical backdrop for the end of your evening. His arm around your shoulders brings you a sense of ease, and you no longer feel that nervous flush as earlier.

He walks with you inside your building, and when you reach the door to your apartment, Matt pauses by the entrance, turning to face you with a gentle smile. “Well, this has been quite the evening,” he says. “I’m really glad we got to do this.”

You return his smile. “Me too. It’s been a lovely night.”

There’s a moment of hesitation, a shared look that speaks volumes without words.

“Well, I - ” you swallow, your nerves returning, “I better head inside.”

As you reach for your keys, Matt’s hand gently wraps around yours, causing a jolt of electricity to travel up your arm. “Before you do,” he says, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “there’s something I’ve been wanting to do all night.”

You look up at him. Screw your newfound sense of ease. Your heartbeat now pounds in your ears like an erratic drum. “Oh? And what’s that?” But something tells you that you know just what he means.

Without breaking eye contact, Matt leans in slowly, his face drifting closer.

“This,” he mumbles the word as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And then his lips touch yours.

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

This poll caused quite the stir amongst yous, I see. Consider me amused. Since part 9 isn't out yet, and my mind isn't set either - if you've got something to let off your chest, some supporting arguments, you've got one more chance to let me know below (or let each other know) 😉 I always read all your opinions, and they are properly taken into account. What did you think of Matty after this?

When Ewan called her at the end of part eight, do you think she had company? Anyway, something sweet is coming in part nine with Ewan and his darling!

To those who are seriously worried about the outcome, note that is and always has been a Ewan x reader fic. I am a Ewan girl just like yous. Hold fast and have fun on the wild ride, darlings 💙

#chemical override #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #matt smith #matt smith x reader #daemon targaryen

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nonasuch · 2 years ago

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here is a fun little star wars scenario that has been pinging around inside my head like a screensaver:

so let’s say there’s some very zealous, very low-ranking fresh young Imperial officer on duty the day they take the Senator from Alderaan into custody.

and he is very very nervous because a) he’s been here for like a week and b) none of that week required him to be in a room with Darth Vader. which he now is. so he is trying to focus very very hard on Doing Everything Exactly According To Protocol, as a means of not focusing on the seven-foot evil wizard standing fifteen feet away.

and part of the protocol for processing new prisoners is to make a new file for them in the prisoner database, and enter all their biographical details and vital statistics and a gene sample and their known associates and the nature of their terrible crimes against the Empire and so on. which he does! very meticulously!

except the computer keeps throwing an error message. the stupid thing keeps beeping at him, this awful grating little noise that makes his shoulders ratchet up tighter and tighter every time it honks at him, and he can’t fix it and Darth Vader is right over there—

except oh god oh fuck the beeping noise must be annoying Darth Vader, too, because he’s coming over here and our poor junior officer is convinced he’s going to die before he even lives long enough to send his first paycheck home to his poor widowed mother —

he stammers out an apology. Vader just stares at him. he swears he’ll figure out the problem right away, sir, it’s probably a bug in the system, it’s just that for some silly reason it keeps saying this gene sample doesn’t match the one on file for the Senator so he can’t get her logged as a new prisoner just yet —

“Dismissed,” says Vader. the poor kid flees, gratefully.

Vader considers the matter. in fact, his underling was correct: the gene sample, which he saw taken through his very own helmet lenses, does not match the official record of Senator Leia Organa, heir to the throne of Alderaan. so: perhaps the sample on record was falsified. not impossible, but very, very difficult. and ordinarily a crime attempted by the lowly and desperate. he cannot see any need for it, in the daughter of a queen.

another possibility presents itself. Alderaan has no history of using royal doubles, as some worlds do. but Bail Organa has worked closely with royal houses where the practice is long-established. perhaps he was inspired. perhaps the girl they captured is not Leia Organa at all.

Vader runs the gene sample against the ship’s database. it is woefully incomplete, of course, containing only a fraction of the Empire’s billions of citizens: the ship’s own complement, a selection of known criminals and Rebels they might encounter, high-ranking officials whose identity must be confirmed should the Emperor require their presence. unlikely that this girl, whoever she is, would have a record here, or even a partial match—

the computer beeps at him. it’s a cheerful beep, this time, not the error message that stymied the junior officer. the computer reports that the gene sample is a partial match for Pooja Naberrie, the Senator from Naboo. they are, with eighty-nine percent probability, first cousins.

and Vader just. kind of stands there. for a minute.

when he goes to Leia’s cell, there’s no interrogation droid with him. he goes in. he shuts the door behind him. he stands there, silent, for frankly a worryingly long time, until Leia has run through her entire stockpile of “how dare you, I’m a member of the Senate on a humanitarian mission” and “whatever you want, you can’t possibly think I would be of any help” and “well, if you’re going to interrogate me, get on with it already” and “are you even listening to me?” and falls silent herself.

Vader has been listening to her. he has also been listening to the Force, which seems to think that she’s not lying. obviously the humanitarian mission part is bullshit, that goes without saying. but the “I’m Senator Leia Organa” parts and the “I won’t help you” parts? yeah. he searched his feelings. he knows them to be true. the Force is singing in his head, bright and clear, in a way it hasn’t for nearly twenty years.

there’s still Tarkin to deal with, though. Vader turns and leaves the cell without a word.

Tarkin wants to blow up Alderaan. this is unacceptable, obviously, and Vader forbids it on the grounds that the Queen and the Viceroy possess vital intelligence, not disclosed to their daughter, that must be acquired. said intelligence being, not that he’s saying this out loud, how the fuck Bail got his hands on his daughter, and who else knows about it.

“the fate of the galaxy rests on it,” is what he does say out loud. from the way the Force harmonizes with his words, that might even be true.

so the Death Star just. parks there. in an incredibly threatening orbit around the planet. they issue a demand that the Organas surrender themselves, or else, but apparently the happy couple just left for a low-tech weekend retreat in the mountains, what awful timing, they’re sending someone to fetch them right away. Vader shuts himself up in his quarters, to seethe and watch the surveillance feed from Leia’s cell. he’s not really paying attention to much else.

and it’s not like a random freighter getting tractored in for being an incredibly obvious smuggling vessel is the kind of thing you’d alert Darth Vader over, anyway.

so he’s still sitting there, one great big thought filling up his whole entire head, watching Leia take a frustration nap, when her cell door opens.

and a trooper comes in.

and the trooper takes off his helmet.

and he says, “I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.”

(continued here)

#i have no idea what happens after that but it's definitely not the plot of star wars: a new hope #star wars #not fic

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venusbyline · 15 days ago

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Gift ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 16, oct.

— pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x servant!reader x Aemond Targaryen x Gwayne Hightower x Criston Cole

— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: punishment + exhibitionism

— summary: Your bravery to face King Aegon II would be admirable, at least if he did not humiliate you in front of his brother Aemond, his uncle Gwayne and Ser Criston.

— word count: 1.9k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 16th day, female!reader, dark!Aegon, dark!Aemond, dark!Gwayne, dark!Criston, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, punishment, exhibitionism, rape/non-con, nipple playing, degradation, non-consensual touching, blood, face slapping, face punching, implied gangbang, dacryphilia, public humiliation, public nudity, crying, breast worship, body worship, sexism, oral (male receiving) mentioned, curse words, dom!Greens, sub!reader, canon divergence (Pre-The Dance of the Dragons), porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole @badger-reads @turdettethefirst

— crossposting: AO3

You had not been working at the castle for a long time. Alicent had hired you just days after the coronation of her firstborn, Viserys' second child, Aegon II. She needed more servants to deal with her son's stupid demands.

You would rather have gone to the Red Keep to serve the Queen Consort, Helaena, or specifically care for hers and the new King's children. You would rather have been chambermaid to other members of the royal family, any task that you did not have to deal so directly with Aegon.

However, it was impossible. Alicent had specified that you take care of the King's private chambers. Not the matrimonial chambers, where he rarely went to sleep with the Queen, but the room where he took the Ladies, the prostitutes or even some maids. The room that was always stinking of wine, sweat and male fluids. Sometimes even his urine. You hated your work and you hated Aegon.

Alicent ordered you to clean Aegon's chambers even though he was still asleep that morning. She had not explained the reasons why you needed to clean with the King's presence still there, but you did not dare question her. You loosened the ties on your uniform as a precaution, as you already noticed how Aegon always smirked when he saw your curves accentuated by the tight fabric. Even though it was Alicent who gave you the clothes on your first day in the Red Keep, you knew very well that it was probably Aegon who demanded his mother that his servants wear only smaller and tighter sizes. After all, where would the fun be for him if they always dressed appropriately?

Upon entering the room, the smell of wine immediately hit your nostrils. You had nothing against drinking alcohol, but the strong stench present inside the room made you hope that all the wine from Westeros would one day run out.

"You look angry." The King's deep husky voice caught your attention, and you swallowed hard as you approached with the two buckets and some rags.

You ignored his words and lowered your head, positioning the buckets on the floor to begin carrying out your task. "Excuse me, Your Grace. Your Lady Mother has ordered me to clean your chambers immediately."

Still lying in bed, Aegon's sleepy eyes fell on your kneeling figure, your delicate hands cleaning the wine stains spread across the floor. Aegon did not remember very much about the night before, only that he had drunk a lot and ordered the guards to bring him some random maid for him to have fun with before bed. He wanted to ask for you, order the guards to bring you even if you were dragged by your hair.

However, he was so drunk that he could not even say the order correctly, then he had to fuck the servant his men brought. She was pretty. She was hot and had a tight cunt. But she was not you.

"You look so fucking beautiful when you are angry..." Aegon continued to tease, making you take a deep breath and look up at him. His milky white skin remained covered by the silk sheets, his blond hair was messy and probably tangled, his lips were still reddened by wine and there were dark circles under his eyes. He was quite a sight, even if you hated admitting it to yourself.

"I am not angry, My King." You went back to mopping the floor with the wet cloth, trying to ignore your thoughts and the fact that his cock was so marked under the sheet.

"Yes, you are." He chuckled, especially when you got up to clean some other part of the room. The glimpse he saw of your pretty breasts pressed into the neckline of your uniform was enough for Aegon to grab your hand, stopping you from moving to the other corner. Preventing you from continuing your task or continuing to ignore him. "Do not play that fucking shit with me. Do not you dare ignore me."

As harsh and angry as his reprimand was, you could not help but look at him with contempt. Those fingers that were inside another servant's cunt during the last night now held your wrist as if he wanted to mark you. The smell of alcohol and sex around became even stronger. "I am not ignoring you, Your Grace. I am just doing my task."

A humorless laugh escaped the King's lips. "Your task? And what would it be, uhm? To look with disgust at my chambers? Or perhaps to loosen the ties on your uniform because you know I am always looking at your body like a hungry man? Is your task to hate your King?"

Your gaze moved away from his hand squeezing your wrists and shifted to his violet eyes, his pupils so dilated when you stared at each other that you could not tell if he wanted to push you onto the bed and fuck you rough or if he he wanted to order the guards to send you to the guillotine. Perhaps both.

"My task this morning is to clean your chambers, something you, My King, are not letting me do properly."

Aegon's jaw clenched at your boldness. He was not used to receiving sharp words from his own servants. It stressed him out and turned him on with equal measure. The way you were staring at him like you wanted to kill him, the way you did not flinch from his grip, the way you ignored his other questions, and most of all... The way you did not deny that you hated him and did not even beg for forgiveness.

Aegon felt his heart accelerate with anger and his cock begin to throb with arousal. He released your arm from his hands, and brought his calloused fingers to your cheeks, caressing the soft flushed skin for a few seconds. "You are a brave little thing, you know that, my dear?" He purred, lips pulled into a dark smile, before silencing what you were about to say with a slap.

The sound of his palm hitting your face left you in disbelief and fear, your eyes wide and filled with tears as Aegon shouted for Ser Criston Cole, who was doing his daily patrol in front of the outside of the King's private chambers.

"Yes, Your Grace? What does the King desire?" Criston asked, positioning himself and looking curiously at the sight in front of him, you with a redness mark on your cheek, Aegon's fierce and at the same time sarcastic gaze. It was clear what had happened.

Aegon let out a slight chuckle before saying. "I have some things to sort out with my brother and my uncle Ser Gwayne in the Small Council room. Please take this girl there when she finishes cleaning here." Aegon murmured, getting up from the bed, letting go of the sheets and starting to walk to the washbasin, his bare ass and his boner catching your attention when he looked at Ser Criston one last time. "Take her naked, preferably. Aemond and my uncle need some distraction and fun. Just like me"

When Criston pushed you into the Small Council, a weak whine escaped your swollen cut lips from the punch he had given you a few minutes before when he had to drag you through the corridors. You flinched as you held the tray with three glasses of wine, entering the room with red cheeks, the gazes of the three men sitting at the table landing on your naked and vulnerable body.

"Your Grace..." You murmured with a sad and shy reverence, walking over to them and placing the tray on the table, handing the largest glass to King Aegon, who smirked excitedly at your presence.

"Oh, finally! My most beautiful servant!" Aegon clapped his hands before taking the drink and taking a sip, admiring the view of your ass when handed the other glasses to Aemond and Gwayne. The prince looked at you with the same cold gaze as always, although he was enjoying watching your shivering body, completely vulnerable. The knight, Aegon and Aemond's uncle, widened his eyes, taking the drink and whispering an embarrassed thanks, your breasts so close to his face. "You can sit with us, Ser Criston. I am sure my other guards will not mind."

Criston nodded silently, sitting on the chair, but remaining with a severe face as he looked at the hairs of your cunt.

The awkward silence followed for a while, despite Aegon's amused smile when he saw you standing naked next to him, your hands clasped in front of your body, waiting for any more orders.

"What did the girl do to deserve a punch on those pretty lips, Ser Criston?" The King teased, the tip of his thumb rubbing circles on your waist, an involuntary sigh escaping and making you squeeze your thighs together reflexively. Your reaction did not go unnoticed by any of the men.

"She tried to refuse to walk naked through the castle halls while I brought her here." Criston looked at you with a little anger and you lowered your head so as not to see their reactions, but Aemond let a low 'uhm' escape coldly, along with Aegon's laugh as if the royal guard had told him the best of jokes.

"Oh, I see... She is a pretty stubborn little whore. Sometimes too brave for her own good." Aegon's mockery was like a knife spinning inside your chest, further adding to the humiliation when even Gwayne Hightower smirked too.

As much as you wanted to take the dagger from Criston's armor and stab the King to death, until his blood ran all over the marble table and permanently stained the green robe he wore, you forced yourself to look at him with false regret. "Forgive me, Your Grace."

It was an absolute lie and everyone knew that, but Aegon did not address your insincerity words. He caressed your bare waist again, moving his large hand up until it rested on your nipples, playing with them for a few minutes, enjoying your pathetic whimpers and the way your body twitched, without even trying to move away. It would be worse for you if you fought his sadism.

"Do not you think she is beautiful?" Aegon's smile was macabre, his thumb and forefinger wringing the small buds becoming hard like rocks, quite reddish and painful.

Aemond and Criston let out a similar scoff, but nodded in agreement. "She is pathetic." The prince added, looking your body up and down. "But she looks better than most of the stupid maids you fuck."

Aegon chuckled and nodded too, turning to Gwayne. "And what do you think, uncle?"

Gwayne looked at you, his red hair matching his flushed cheeks as he gave his nephew a mischievous smile. "She is quite a sight, My King."

Aegon laughed again, moving his fingers away from your breasts and scratching his chin to think of something that could humiliate you a little more. He knew this would be crossing the line and would make his mother reprimand him furiously, ashamed of the firstborn that came out of her womb. However, it did not matter anymore. He was the King now, and a King should decide how to punish his own people.

"I think you would like to receive some pleasure after the tiring journey to King's Landing. Right?" Gwayne seemed a little shocked by the suggestion from Aegon's words, but it did not take long for him to agree.

"Yes, my nephew. It would be very useful." Gwayne ignored the tears that streamed down your face when Aegon forced you to kneel in front of his uncle, lifting your face so you could see the lust on Gwayne's face.

Aegon petted the top of your head like a puppy, before smirking and whispering. "Well... then take her as your welcome gift, uncle."

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yanderestarangel · 1 year ago

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐌𝐊1 | "𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒��𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄?"

TW: dark themes, toxic relationship, physical aggression, afab anatomy, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, yandere themes, smut, nsfw.

｡˚☽˚｡⋆ SHANG TSUNG : You two met when he went to collect a debt from one of your neighbors in the small village where you lived with your family, he would ask if your neighbor was there, since he didn't answer the door, you would talk distractedly taking care of some flowers that I didn't know for sure, oh my, the wizard was already madly in love with you, he would ask for some water and then ask your name and then kiss the back of your hand leaving with some men. From then on, his life would be a real hell. He would research everything about you and your family, he would be the type who would first try to win you over like a normal person, but soon he would see that you didn't seem very interested in her, soon leading him to a plan B. - He would start threatening the owner of renting your house immediately increasing the monthly payment, leaving you and your family in complete despair, however, he appeared as a "great savior" giving the house to your family again, with one caveat, you would have to go out to dinner with he. Shang Tsung was very seductive, he would pick you up at home, dressed in beautiful gold and red royal attire, loose hair and extremely expensive perfume, he would know how to convince you to stay with him, telling you how lucky you were that he had bought your house, in no time you would be in his hands and with sweet words and some wine, he would be between your legs at the end of the night, fucking you hard and slapping your face.

You two start dating immediately, and it becomes hell in your life, Shang wouldn't let you go home anymore, you would practically live with him in his castle, all his henchmen from exoterra weren't even allowed to breathe near you, much less let you go out without him around. He would be busy with business but he would leave you beautiful and locked up in another shared house between the two of you - don't take him the wrong way, but he wouldn't feel comfortable leaving you in a house full of likely exits to run away and never come back to him again. -

He is well controlled, Shang really knows that you won't leave him, because in addition to having developed emotional dependence on you on purpose, he could kill your beloved family at any moment - perhaps he even did this before, so you could only have him, but just maybe- But every jealous crisis he has you will be fucked by her until you can no longer walk, he will sink into you without any mercy for your poor pussy, talking while he puts his dick in you with all his strength that you are a dirty slut who wants to give that pussy to anyone, and that only he can have your body and heart, whether you want it or not.

You wouldn't, like never, if you even dared to mention that you wanted to end the relationship you would see a family member of yours killed, by your boyfriend while he smiled insanely and asked if he heard what you meant to say correctly. He would also never break up with you, for him you are the only one in his life and will always be and if you try to run away he will find you and make your life hell, first of all you wouldn't even leave the exoterra, he literally has contact with You wouldn't even be able to get a ride to go as far as possible from exo terra and if you did, it would be one of contacts to pick you back up. You would soon realize that it wasn't the right way and you would panic seeing Shang Tsung just ahead waving happily to the driver. You would try to scream and then cry but there was nothing else you could do in that situation, he would take you home and soon he would have him by your side and kissing your neck, of course, with your wrist held by a pair of handcuffs on your wrist. At the head of the bed, he would lay his head on you, hugging you while your tears flowed : "-My love, you will never leave here, you will die here, whether you want it or not."

｡˚☽˚｡⋆ BI HAN : Please never have a relationship with this man, seriously darling, Bi Han is the type of man that you can't even breathe someone else's air and he will have a jealous crisis taking you both home - this man's crises are always happen with the two of you out - he wouldn't be shy and say that you were wearing too short clothes to go out and that's why you were at home - not because he was jealous because you simply smiled at the waiter after he gave you a drink - and After arriving home, the two of you would have extremely violent sex on Bi Han's part, he would record fucking your pussy from behind while pulling your hair - regardless of whether your hair was short or not, he is 6'1 tall, meaning he would reach your head calm down - and right after cumming inside you, his cum warmed your entrance recording the cum dripping from your pussy. He would also be extremely controlling with things related to your work, forget leaving the house after dating him, you only go out with him or if you are accompanied by a man he trusts from the Lin Kuei - Mainly Sektor - if he knows you left alone he would have an outbreak when he got home - let's say maybe, but just, maybe, he put a tracker on you, with the help of Sektor, specifically on your cell phone or maybe on yourself, this man is sick - and this outbreak it would generate an outcry from him, and you would only hear it silently, crying quietly, since the last time you raised your voice to him you left the mark of his hand on your face for 3 days. He's the type to punish you physically, he thinks you'll learn better from pain. Things like hitting you if you dare to raise your voice to him have become normal in his life, he also faithfully believes that hitting you is not wrong and will never apologize for the opposite, he will pretend nothing happened and have breakfast with you like a happy couple. Unlike the others on the list, there is no way not to notice the red flags in the relationship, you went into this knowing how problematic Bi Han was and thought you could change him in some way, you were mortally mistaken. If you tried to escape from your house he would find you in hell, the entire Lin Kuei would come after you, and deaths would happen because your dear boyfriend knows that you couldn't bear to see civilians dying because of you. Soon the grand master would see you come out of a small house in the village that you were hiding with your hands up, there were people looking at you shocked by everything and others dead on the ground as you passed, obviously all the witnesses would be neutralized. Bi Han hugged you tightly, placing kisses on your head as he carried you in his arms. "-I told you my love, you will never run away from me, you are my soulmate, have you forgotten? If you try to do something like that again, I swear I will slowly kill every person you love in this life."

｡˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHNNY CAGE: This man is a Labrador type, he is a cute man but when he wants to he can turn your life into hell. You met Johnny in one of his films, and he soon became very passionate and in a record amount of time you began to have a relationship, in the beginning it was always normal and respectful, but he has already shown some strange signs, like always asking what you smiled so much writing on your cell phone - which was ironic since he was always glued to his cell phone - which would generate a mini fight between the two of you with Johnny saying that he was afraid of losing you, that he couldn't live without you and that he would do anything To have you by his side, he's the type who will apologize for raising his voice in a fight but will try to justify why he did it. The man will go slowly, showing several red flags, such as expelling his friends from the house that was shared, saying that he had had enough of the noise and that he needed to rest from unlike your friends leaving a horrible atmosphere in the room. You looked at your boyfriend in disbelief as he opened the door and each of your friends came out awkwardly smiling in your direction, the argument between you would be heated with him calling you a slut in the process which would make the older man apologize soon after while you If you locked yourself in the bathroom, you would only make up when you left the room and saw Cage silently crying while looking at your photos. He really has problems with trust, he loves you and trusts you, but he can't say the same about his friends and the world in general, even with you being in his life for many years, he doesn't trust himself, you two would end up fucking with Johnny Cage beneath you talking about how he couldn't see his life without you, while you rode him and kissed him, the man's hips went in desperate rhythm as he saw the goddess that was you moaning on his dick, and oh my he could never lose you.

+ BONUS CHARACTER

｡˚☽˚｡⋆ KUAI LIANG : Kuai Liang is literally on the same level as Bi Han, seriously, maybe even worse. This man would lay eyes on you for the first time and soon become obsessed, in this context you would be a support soldier in the mission against Perseus, everything was supposed to be normal but you soon find yourself cornered by Kuai and his sick thoughts. The man wouldn't give you a choice, either you stay with him or you die, simple as that. He would first try to win you over by normal methods, like bringing flowers or inviting you to dinner and if you accepted, you would fall into his web of control. This relationship would be a prison, you couldn't leave this man's side and if you did it without authorization you would be punished, he would love to punish you with humiliation, making you suck his dick under the table while there is a very important meeting with the Lin Kuei or just you depriving you of wearing clothes at home, he would always, literally always, fuck you, the bastard knew how to break your mind, he knew how to have sex that made you cry while you trembled on his thick cock. During sex he would praise you saying how good you are for taking his dick so well in your pussy, you were already not feeling very well with everything that was happening, so a Stockholm syndrome bond was formed with the man, rightfully so. to you crying every time Kuai deprived you of contact. Well, I think that with all this there's no need to say how jealous he is, you're just his, it could have happened that a man who tried to buy you a drink turned up dead in some alley, he's not the type to hit you , but, he will do much worse things. You will never escape, forget that dear, he will put you in a house far away from everything and everyone with the security system high and to avoid the risk of an escape, so you just let the man take control of your life. Kuai Liang would arrive home and see you on the porch, sitting in a beautiful white flowy dress that showed off your cleavage all dressed up, you looked sadly at the forest landscape around you, life had already left your eyes, you were a soulless doll, Kuai's broken doll, he sat next to you, slowly placing you on his lap while running his hand through your soft hair, you were broken, Kuai Liang knew, but there was no going back.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2033

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nebulaafterdark · 4 months ago

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The Succession (Part 3)

Summary: After the battle of Rook’s Rest, Queen Y/N is forced to rule alongside Prince Regent Aemond, in an attempt to keep her children safe and eventually seat her mother, Rhaenyra, on the throne. While attending her husband, on what appears to be his deathbed, she begins to unravel the dark truth of his near passing.

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

Alicent’s idea of a procession to gain support for their wounded King, has quite the opposite effect. The smallfolk swam them, knocking the attending members of the royal family from their carriage and down onto the streets with them.

The Dowager Queen clings to Helaena and her daughter by law. With gold cloaks of the city watch forcing the crowd away from them. Making a path back toward the Keep.

Chérie watches in horror as it unfolds, amongst the sea of people, she spots a familiar face. One of Rhaenyra’s ladies-in-waiting. “Elinda?”

“Chérie?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to deliver a message to Princess Y/N, from Queen Rhaenyra.”

“May the gods be with you,” Chérie remarks.

“Where is she?” Elinda asks.

Chérie points toward the center of the mob. Alicent, Helaena and Y/N covered by guards attempting to protect them. “There.”

“Give us the Queen!”

“We want the Queen.”

“Back, all of you!” The guards demand, preparing to draw their swords.

Y/N tries to step forward, give the people what they want.

“Y/N,” Alicent keeps a firm hold on her, shaking her head. “It is not worth the risk.”

“You drug me away from my husband’s sick bed for our people to see me.” Y/N reminds her. “Let them see me.”

Alicent releases her, against her better judgment.

The mass of commoners threaten to engulf the Queen, with the banner of house Targaryen held proudly in their midst. “We want meat.”

“The King makes false promises!”

“You feast in your castle as we starve!”

The shouting builds to a crescendo.

“Do you want my help, or simply to hurl insults at the crown?” Y/N waits until they fall silent before she continues. “Before the King’s coronation, I was told the realm would never accept a ruling Queen. I heard this same sentiment recently, as my lord husband returned from battle, grievously injured. Yet you raise my mother’s banner in my husband’s streets.” Y/N says, loud enough for all to hear. “War is a terrible thing, that costs us all that which we love. It drives a wedge between our houses, makes fools of us all.”

“Stop the war!”

“End the blockade!”

Y/N hesitates, “I have no more agency over that than any of you, I fear. But I believe, as I know my husband does, that our victory relies on the smallfolk. We take to the woods, this day. We will hunt for our meat and we shall feast upon it together.”

The smallfolk murmur to each other.

“Most of you are not trained for the hunt, to which I say, neither am I. But we must stand together, not tear ourselves apart. We are one people, we are one heart.”

Slowly, the townsfolk begin voicing their approval.

“Take to your houses,” Y/N instructs, “gather your weapons and join me at the gates. They will open for us or we will break them down!”

“If you want a word with the Queen, now is your chance.” Chérie whispers.

“And you?”

“I must stand watch over his grace, until her return. After what I have learned this day…he mustn’t be alone.”

The mob cheers as they disband, knocking Chérie and Elinda apart.

Alicent rushes Helaena inside as Y/N heads for the gates.

“She should not be alone.” Helaena says.

“No, she shouldn’t.” Alicent presses cups her daughter’s face in her hands. “Ser Criston.” She calls.

“Your grace,” he stands at the ready.

“You are to accompany the Queen on this venture.” She tells him. “Y/N is not to be out of your sight, no harm must come to her.”

“Of course, your grace.” Cole nods, excusing himself to meet the Queen at the gates. They remain closed as commoners fall in line behind her, pushing at one another as she fights her way to the forefront.

“Where is it you think you’re going?” Aemond asks his niece.

“To give our people meat.” Y/N sneers, spotting her husband’s dagger on his hip. Without hesitation she reaches across, staring him dead in the eye as she yanks the blade free of its sheath. “You are welcome to join us.”

Aemond cocks his head to the side, knowing he has the final say in directing the King’s guard, “open the gates.”

————————————————————————

When Daemon receives Rhaenyra’s letter, detailing her plan to secure Y/N’s safe passage from King’s Landing to Dragonstone, he believes it is a terrible idea.

What they need is for her to hold the throne, the moment she abandons it, any claim Rhaenyra or Aegon holds over it will be lost to the Prince Regent. He knows better than anyone that the realm will suffer if Aemond, one eye, rules.

Instead he plans to enlist help of his own to secure his grandchildren’s safety. With Y/N and Aemond out roaming the woods, taking over half the King’s guard with them, he finds his opportunity.

Whistling through the gates to one of the white cloaks, who harbors a strong dislike of the Hightowers. The man abandons his post, meeting Daemon at the bars.

“How would you like to make a year’s worth of gold in an hour?”

Blood swallows harshly, “what would you have me do?”

“You can start by opening the fucking gate.”

The man does as he’s told.

“Follow me.” Daemon leads him down the alleyway to another man, whom he calls Cheese. “This is an old friend of mine, tonight he’s going to be your friend.” Daemon tosses them each a sack of gold.

“You said a year’s worth.”

“Half now, half when the job is done.”

Blood and Cheese count their bags of coin before nodding their agreement.

“What I need of you is simple. Enter the castle, find my grandson, Aegon.”

“The King?”

“Prince Aegon. He is a babe with dark hair.” With his father incapacitated, they have a good shot at it. “If you cannot retrieve him safely, leave.”

“Is that all?”

“Be sure to scare the seven hells out of the maids while you’re at it. But you are not to cause harm. This is a ploy to increase protection of the Queen’s heirs. Nothing more.”

“What is it they need protecting from?” Cheese wonders.

“Do you want the job or not?” Daemon snaps.

“Y-yes.”

“I will be waiting to collect him at the north gate.” The prince informs them. “You have one hour.”

————————————————————————-

“Disperse and take your share, all of you.” Aemond gives the smallfolk his blessing. They scatter in all directions, desperate and searching.

Y/N sets off with a pack of them into the east woods. Cole follows.

Aemond stays with the masses, showing his good faith. Hoping to win back their support of his claim.

Y/N is the first to spot a deer, running from them, “just there.” She sets off toward is. “Who wants it?”

“I, your grace.” A man with silver, gray hair marches toward it.

“Very well!” Y/N praises, “everyone come round, be sure it does not escape.”

“Together, now.”

They take the first, with some difficulty. Each to follow becomes easier.

Aemond makes his kills alone, happening upon the group eventually. Just in time to see the gleam of the White Hart, watching on from a safe distance. Willing him to slain it, prove himself once and for all, as Y/N toils in servitude of the smallfolk.

“Your grace!” One of the men yell, pointing to the stag. “For you.”

“For us,” Y/N pats his shoulder before hiking up her ruined skirts, “for us.”

“For us!”

Aemond draws his sword, spooking the animal into hiding.

The Queen’s eyes widen.

“May the beast be slain by the true heir, as a sign of good faith.” He says, taking off in search of it.

Y/N runs after him.

“My Queen!”

“Stay with the Queen!”

She chases Aemond deeper into the woods, but the stag cannot be found.

In an instant, Aemond turns on his heels. Leaving the end of his blade pointed at Y/N’s belly.

She flinches as his sword grazes her cheek on it’s upward swing.

Aemond smirks, watching the blood bead on her skin as her eyes well with tears. “Behind you.”

The stag bolts away.

“Aemond!” Ser Criston calls.

The Prince Regent sheathes his sword. “It got away.”

Y/N’s knees buckle, she does not fight as she falls to the ground. It was him. He who would sooner shroud his brother in dragon fire than fight at his side. He who jumped the line of succession to turn the war in his favor.

“Your grace,” Cole moves to her as Aemond retreats. “You’re injured.”

Y/N holds a hand up between them.

“Let me help you stand.”

“Why?” Y/N asks, “each time I stand I am struck down.”

“Because you keep rising.” Cole tells her. “You know, I may not have fathered them, but I raised both Aegon and Aemond as my own. He would not want to see you this way.”

“He may never see me again.”

“I do not believe that is true.” Ser Criston sighs, “so long as you live, he will find a way. My responsibility to Aegon now lies in ensuring he has something to wake up to.” He says, pointedly. “You have not made it an easy task.”

“I overheard you call my mother a spoiled cunt once.” Y/N scrubs a hand over her face, “be forewarned, I am worse.”

Despite himself, Cole smiles. Something just beyond her catching his eye. “My Queen.”

She follows the direction of his finger.

“This will be the sign we all desperately need, they would fall in line behind you. There will be no further question.”

The White Hart stares back at her, unblinking. “Have you come to die for me too?” She pushes up to her feet, flashing the blade before the animal’s eyes in warning. But the stag comes closer, she strokes its bowed head, plunging the dagger clean into its heart, allowing the stag to collapse onto her. Rocking the creature as best she can. “Thank you for all you have done for me. Your sacrifice is not in vain.”

Cole carries the slain stag behind Y/N, trudging through the forest, covered in its blood. The smallfolk know what this means. There is no need for a Prince Regent, they have a Queen.

Aemond nods. She’s won the battle, but he’ll win the war.

————————————————————————-

With the smallfolk contented, Y/N retires to her rooms, allowing the bath water to soothe her muscles and her mind. Chérie is still about, therefore the Queen allows another of her ladies to scrub the dirt and blood from her skin.

“It is done, my Queen.” Livia nods, “should you like a towel, or to soak a while longer?”

“The water is filthy,” Y/N murmurs.

“We might draw you a new bath, your grace.”

“No,” Y/N shakes her head. “Just the towel please.”

“At once, your grace.” She reaches for the plush cream fabric, holding it open for her majesty.

Y/N wraps herself in it, as her hair is rung out over the tub.

“Are you thinking of braids, your grace?”

No. Not in the least. “You may leave it hang.”

“Are you certain?” Livia blinks at her.

“Yes, help me dress in my nightgown, please. I am quite exhausted.”

Livia nods, scurrying to the dressing area and returning with a pale purple gown. “Is this to your liking, my Queen?”

Y/N smiles, “it is lovely. Thank you.”

The woman returns the gesture.

“You needn’t always address me so formally when we are alone. I wish for us to be friends.”

“A Queen is not expected to be friends with her servants.” Livia says, “my mother has served the dowager Queen Alicent for many years.”

“My mother was always kind to her ladies.” Y/N tells her. “That is the Queen I hope to be.”

Livia nods, easing the material over the Queen’s head, followed quickly by her robe. “I should like that very much.”

“I understand how difficult it can be, taking on a new role without knowing what’s expected of you. If you’ve questions, please voice them to me, I am more than happy to answer.”

“I have heard whispers from other ladies…that Chérie joins you and the King in your bed.” Livia stammers, “you are both very lovely, your grace, but I would not know how-”

“Oh no,” Y/N huffs a laugh. “Livia, that will never be asked of you. Chérie is very dear to the King and I, but that is not a task expected of my ladies.”

“Forgive me for assuming.”

“It’s quite alright, I am glad to clear the air between us. I would hate for you to be nervous in my presence over a misunderstanding.”

Livia exhales, “thank you for being so kind.”

Y/N takes her hand, “of course.”

“Y/N,” Chérie pants, having rushed past the guards. “It’s Aegon.”

Y/N moves, as if in slow motion, taking the bloodied dagger from the floor. Down the hall, to her husband’s rooms, shoving open the door.

“You’re hurt.” He says, taking in the sight of her, freshly dressed, hair still dripping from the bath.

She gawks at him. Willing her legs to move and dropping to her knees at the side of his bed, casting the weapon aside. Y/N rests her cheek against the coverlet, not daring to touch him.

Carefully he reaches for her, feeling the charred skin of his chest pull as his hand passes over her hair.

“I thought you were dead,” Y/N whispers. “Chérie rushed me out of my rooms to you. I thought you were dead.” She sobs, violently enough that any shred of anger Aegon harbors for the disregard of her own safety is forgotten.

“I’m going to look in on the children.” Chérie excuses herself.

Aegon whispers, as the doors close, “come round this side.”

“I can’t.” Y/N struggles to draw breath, shuttering as she does.

“I wish to hold you.”

“I will hurt you.”

“Hearing you sob on the floor, while I am no more than a foot away, is worse than any pain I am in. Let me comfort you.” Aegon insists, “please.”

Y/N stands, climbing carefully onto the bed, lying her head on the pillow beside his.

Aegon’s neck aches as he turns his head to face her, left eye swollen shut.

“I do not see where it is safe to touch you,” Y/N admits. The unmarred half of his face now rests against the pillow.

“Rest your head upon my shoulder.” Aegon sighs, “but let me look at you first.” He’s just taken milk of the poppy, enough to dull the sharp edge of pain.

“I am a mess.” Y/N lets out a watery laugh, dragging the back of her hand over her face, mindful of her graze.

“You are beautiful,” Aegon half smiles. “Tell me what’s happened.”

Y/N sucks in a breath, “the small council appointed Aemond as Prince Regent. The smallfolk were discontented in their hunger, I took them to hunt. I happened across a white stag and followed it into the woods. Aemond as well. He drew his sword once we were far enough out though Cole found us before anything happened. I think he meant to kill me.”

Aegon swallows, “you must stay away from Aemond, do you understand?”

Y/N nods.

“When I am well enough-”

“Has he done this to you?” Y/N needs to hear it plainly.

“Sunfyre and Meyles were locked together. There is no way of knowing what his intentions were, but it was Aemond who gave the command.” Dracarys.

“I’ll kill him.”

“You cannot.”

Y/N begins to protest.

“Listen to me now.” Aegon presses on, “I want you out of King’s Landing. I want our children out.”

“No, I will not leave you.”

“Go to your mother on Dragonstone.”

“No.”

“Shh,” Aegon gentles her. “I need you to hear what I am saying to you. This is the only way she can take back the throne. She wants Aemond’s head more than any. It will ensure your safety and the kill. I hate being parted as much as you do, but I cannot protect you here.”

“Who will protect you if I go?”

“My mother.”

“She would stand against Aemond, if it comes to it?” Y/N challenges.

“I do not want you here if it comes to that.”

“Why?”

“I will not have you stand between me and a blade. I will not allow you to be harmed or mistreated. I will protect you and our children at any cost.” Aegon says.

“The White Hart appeared for me,” Y/N is sure of it. “It fled from Aemond, returned for me and I killed it. For you, for our house and our people. I am not weak.”

“My concern is not because you are weak.” Aegon tells her, “at present, you are the largest threat to Aemond. He could end me now with a pillow held over my face.”

Y/N’s eyes widen.

“I jest, I jest.”

“I will do it myself if you dare say that again.”

He chuckles, “ah!” The movement is horribly painful. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“I promised the girls they could come visit you.” Y/N tells him, lowering her head to his shoulder.

“Are you certain that’s a good idea?” Aegon nuzzles against the top of her head. “They should not have to see me this way.”

Y/N sighs, “you are their father. They love you no matter what.”

“And you?” Aegon whispers, “you would have me still? They say I may never walk again.”

Y/N pulls away to stare at him with furrowed brows. “Aegon, of course I will have you. I love you.”

“I know that you love me.” Same as he would love her with roles reversed, “but will you…desire me? As your husband?”

Y/N presses her lips to his, oh so gently. “Of course. When you have recovered, we shall make up for lost time.”

Again he nods, not entirely convinced. “I should like that very much.”

“I speak true, husband.” Y/N insists. “Surely my body is different now than it was before our babes and you desire me still, do you not?”

“I desire you more.”

“We’re going to grow old together, you and I. In which time we will both surely change, that is the way of things.”

“Your grace!” Chérie calls, rapping her fist against the door.

“Come,” Y/N wills her.

The woman charges in, clearly distraught. “My Queen,” she says, without realizing Aegon is still lucid. The maesters warned his moments of waking will be few and far between. “Something awful has happened.”

“What is it?” Y/N springs from the bed.

“Prince Aegon…he’s been taken.”

“Taken where?” Y/N demands.

“I cannot say, the maids reported two men in hoods. They came with knives, threatened them and took the babe.”

“Bring us Dahlia, Visera and Laenor.” Aegon insists. “Send in the guards, they are to tear apart the Red Keep until my son is found.”

“Of course, my King.” Chérie bows.

Y/N steals the abandoned dagger, making for the door.

“Where are you going?” Aegon calls after her.

“To kill your brother.”

Part 4

Series Taglist: @oh-you-mean-me @barnes70stark @lovelyteenagebeard @niyahnotnia @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @callsignwidow @hyde-jpg @novelswithariana @klutzylaena @ynbutbetter @ravenqueen27 @danart501

#house of the dragon #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon imagine #aegon ii

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the-fiction-witch · 6 months ago

Text

You are not a Queen. You are The Queen. My Queen.

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Alysanne Targaryen (Daughter of Rhaenyra, wife of Aegon) Rating - Sweet AF Word Count - 2437

The carriage bumped and bustled through the king's landing streets, the crack of the whip of the horses echoing in the mad rush.

Alicent sat across the carriage in her impressive green dress, with golden chains and symbols of the faith of the seven. The crown she has always worn as queen nettled in her brown hair with her veil trailing down her back. She sighs and hardens herself for what must be done.

Aegon sits dressed in his finery even if he shivered and he slightly cried trying to think of any way he could escape this fate. "Do you love me?" He asked his mother his voice plaid it like a joke but she didn't know the strength it took for him to utter those four words, and the deep tethers within him that those words and her answer would hold.

"You imbecile," she shook her head,

Her answer was enough of an answer for him to understand, but he felt compelled to speak once more, "Where is Alysanne?"

For a moment there was silence, and it spoke more than her words ever could, but after a time she speaks, "I send word for her but she could not be fetched. We couldn't wait."

He chuckled, "She is my wife." He glared, "We couldn't wait five minutes for her?"

"every moment we wait risks the wrath of dragon stone."

"Yet you had time to change your dress?" he glared,

"She would remain where she is safe, with the children."

"So if Rhynera comes to burn the red keep we will all be in the dragon pit, except my wife who is in the red keep."

"That is not what I intended-"

"Maybe not but its a helpful circumstance,"

"We should not speak of this,"

Aegon tried to protest but they arrived at the dragon pit, before anyone had much time to think Aegon was forced from the carriage and taken inside no matter his arguments.

The High Septom prepared the oils as the smallfolk were forced through the streets and ushered into the dragon pit until it was full, A small stage was set up with Alicent, Otto, Cristen, Helena and Aemond all waiting, preparing for this moment.

Otto steps out to address the crowd, "King's Landing! Today is the saddest of days! Our beloved king, Viserys the peaceful... is dead!"

Muttering of shock comes from the crowd,

"But it is also the most joyous of days!" he continues, "For as his spirit left us, he whispered his final wish that his firstborn son Aegon should succeed him"

more muttering but soon applause echos through the dragon pit,

Members of the city watch rush the dragon pit pushing smallfolk as they do, they make a path to the stage half to keep smallfolk out, and half to keep aegon in. Horns ring out in royal tones as the armoured men raise their swords.

Aegon does not wish to do this but he is forced out, so he takes slow and gradual steps a tear slipping from his eye as he begins the walk, the swords dropping behind him one by one, Each step makes him want to run, makes him want to fight his way out but with each one he is cementing his fate.

His family's fate.

His people's fate.

His city's fate.

His realm's fate.

He glances back and sees the swords are preventing his way, he really has no way back now.

He holds

"It is your good, great fortune to be here, to witness this. A new day for our city. A new day for our realm. a new king to lead us."

He looks up and meets eyes with his mother a rage boiled inside him, that all this was her doing.

When he climbed the steps she came and held his cheeks kissing his forehead, leading him by the hand to the Steptom of the faith of the seven.

He looks to Otto who two gives him no choice he simply nods to him,

So Aegon kneels,

silence rings out,

"May the warrior give him courage, may the smith lend strength to his sword and shield, may the father defend him in his need, may the crone lift her shining lantern and shin his way to wisdom." the Septom says and with each anoints his head with oil,

The crown is then taken from its pillow. The crown of Aegon the conqueror, sharp spikes of Valyrian steel with gems and jewels of finery.

"The crown of the conqueror, past down through generations." Sir Criston takes the crown and places it on Aegons head even if the crown doesn't fit him right, "Let the seven bear witness, Aegon Targaryen is the true heir to the iron throne."

For the first time in what feels like hours, Aegon lets out a breath, feeling the weight of the crown on his head, he gets to his feet and looks to everyone in attendance seeing how each bows to him,

"All hail his grace! Aegon second of his name, king of the Andals the Roynar and the First Men. Lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm!"

The bells toll out as cheers erupt for him,

Aegon looks out to see the faces of all those who cheer, all those who look at him with joy, none of them know the death and destruction he brings. But even so, he can't help but feel a pride, and a swell of his ego as he takes Blackfyre from his belt and thrusts it into the air. For a moment he is swept up in his own family's pageantry and feels a joy to be king.

But it doesn't last, as a rumble comes from below and suddenly dust and stone erupt up from the floor of the pit, people scream and try to run but there is no way to get away as the floor crumbles under their feet the red queen comes though the floor the dragon crushing smallfolk and killing hundreds in her wake otto tries to demand the doors to be opened but people are already dying, as Rhaenys sits on top of her dragon as the dust clears.

Alicent jumps in front of Aegon putting herself between the dragon and him,

The Red Queen screeched at everyone before turning and flying out and away into the sky.

Aegon remains in the dragon pit, the pageantry of the moment long faded, the true death toll of his day hitting him, the weight of the sword in his hand and the crown on his head causing him to ache. He had such conflict in his heart, as he truly thought it all though.

He never wanted this... and yet it was done.

He never thought he was the heir... yet now the crown rests on his head.

His coronation... left hundreds dead.

This moment... had surely begun a war that would tear apart his family, his realm, his house and all that he held dear.

And in all of it, he stands alone, or so he thinks.

Alysanne walks the up the stairs he walked up, her eyes looking only at him. Her gown is a body of green velvet, with silver threat lacing the bodice, black leather sleeves tight to her skin all the way to her wrists, a large skirt of green velvet with black flames embodied on the bottom, a long cape from her shoulders of a sheer black fabric cut like dragon wings. Her hands behind her back as she reaches the stage, she bows to him dipping her knees and lowering her head before her eyes meet his once more.

His wife, in this moment, she is the light in this darkness. but there is so much sadness in him as he looks at her starlight eyes.

"I am sorry Alysanne," He told her,

"I hardly believed it to be true," she began, "Once word reached me."

He felt unable to speak,

"Oh Aegon..." she said, "what have you let your mother do to you?"

Aegon looks at her with a mixture of guilt and shame, his throat tightens with emotion as he takes in her words. "I didn't have a choice,"

"I know." she nodded, "You are the king," She said almost not believing her own words,

He looks away, his mind filled with sorrow and anger, he is king, but he isn't happy. "This... already ways heavily on me... I cannot carry it alone."

"If you are a king... I suppose that makes me a queen,"

He feels the weight lift a little, to know that she is beside him in this, "I am not a King. I am the king. You are not a queen. You are The queen. My Queen." he gives her an affectionate smile,

"so it would seem," A smile escapes her, but soon fails, "what- What is to happen to our children?" Her voice was full of fear,

Aegon's heart sinks as she asks, he knows his children are in danger, he feels already like he has failed them and his wife, he knows no matter what he can't protect them from this. "I do not know..."

"Forgive me, I should not sour your victory with my concerns."

"You should, concerns are now my most important matters." He told her, "I am sorry Alysanne, truly, I wanted to share this moment with you more than anyone. I am so sorry you were left behind,"

"... well, it's over now. it doesn't matter."

"It does. you are my queen and the fact you where not beside me for this moment... it breaks my heart."

"I admit... I am upset. that your mother had called this, not just for the politics and the show of the realm but... she wore her finest dress, her gold and her jewels, brought your family here, coronated you in front of thousands, gave you a crown, a sword, and the title of king... and I. Was left at the red keep with our children. Like a nursemaid." she explained, "I wish I could have been here is all..."

He felt his blood boil that she felt this way, he took her hand and squeezed it, "I wish you could have been here, I wanted this to be for us. I wanted to take the crown with you by my side to take your own. I wanted our children to be here to witness the crown that may one day be theirs. and my mother robbed us of that... I am sorry, truly sorry. and I know I can never repay the injustice done to you." he explained, "You are my queen... and... you do not even have a crown."

"I do." she said, as she revealed her other hand, "She gave me this when they arrived back to the red keep." she said and in her hand sat a small tiara of gold and green. No larger than a hair clip, and for a moment he remembers the crown his mother had worn today a large headband of gold and emeralds His own wife. His queen. Was tossed a crown, Without even being given a coronation. "I... I hardly wish to wear it at all... seems... foolish,"

Aegon stares at the tiny tiara and feels an intense surge of anger at the treatment his wife has received. It is a reminder of her insignificance in his mother's eyes, and it hurts him deeply. But he doesn't want her to be sad, he wants her to be proud of her new station. He looks at her, her face filled with a mixture of anger and sadness, and he doesn't want her to feel that way. He wants to make her happy and to make her feel wanted and accepted. "Wear it." He says, firm but gentle. His voice is a command, but also an appeal. He wants her to wear this crown, to let the world know that she is his wife and his Queen and that he is proud of her. He wants everyone to know that she is the Queen, no matter what his mother says or does.

"There's no point..."

"Here," He takes her by the hand and tugs her with him to stand in front of the banners, he takes the small tiara from her and smiles, he gives it a clean on his shirt to make sure no fingerprints are on it before he does is most epic and dramatic voice for her, "May the warrior give her courage, may the smith lend strength to her sword and shield, may the father defend her in her need, may the crone lift her shining lantern and shin her way to wisdom. May the mother be an ever-sweet light in her life, may the maiden keep her safe, and may the stranger's visits be few," He explained, "The crown of ... uhh... the most beautiful of queens," he makes up as this crown had no name,

she chuckles at him and he gently but sweetly presses the tiara into her hair, crowning her as his queen, his hands run down her hair and he kisses her lips softly,

"Let the seven bear witness, Alysanne Targaryen queen of the seven kingdoms." he proclaimed, "All hail her grace! Alysanne Targaryen, queen of the Andals the Roynar and the First Men. lady of the seven kingdoms, protector of the realm, beloved bride and mother. My queen. My sweet queen," he cooed,

"Thank you Aegon," she smiled,

"You're welcome, and I promise you. You shall have a crown more worthy of your beauty and title." He smiled,

"I think we have more pressing matters than a crown Aegon," she said,

"True," He nodded as his heart sank, "... you said once, not long after our children were born, that perhaps it would be best to cut or losses, to fly to Dragonstone with the children to meet with your mother, to cleave to your mother and beg for her mercy."

she shook her head, "... it's too late for that Aegon, no matter what side we are on. Blood will be spilt, and the only way to keep our children alive is to be on a side of our own."

He nodded and briefly smiled, "You took to talking queen fast," He chuckled,

She smiled, "Aegon darling, I have been talking and acting like a queen for as long as I can remember. Our family ensured that. Come. The children wish to see their new king, and we have much to do." she explained taking his arm, he nodded and squeezed her hand happily walking with her even if the two were beyond scared of what now was to be done.

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dipperscavern · 2 months ago

Note

dippy I’m sorry I’m a bit stupid I did not read either of the prompt bit 😭 but if possible could I just add a prompt to my previous Cregan bit? If so, ‘voices change around each other’, bc pookie would be all ‘👹👺fuck y’all I am the lord of winterfall RAGGHHH- Oh hi darling 🤗😘’

urs truly, ur very stupid cheeky anon

you’re ALL GOOD!! thank u for your congrats & i hope u enjoy!!

9. voices changing around each other (whether it deepens or their tone in which they speak changes)

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

in cregans defense, he was usually ever level-headed.

being lord of winterfell and warden of the north, you had to be — patience and understanding is cregans middle name. it’s not often he loses his temper, even less often is it unjustified when it happens, and right now, his men had royally fucked up.

winter is approaching, and with it, cregans main task has been securing enough food to last winterfell & its inhabitants for as long as necessary. the maesters can foretell when winter comes and summers ended, but how long winter lasts is never known. strengthening alliances with other houses, expanding food stores, implementing more farms and crop production — cregan had pushed everything else aside to ensure the security of the people.

even if it put pressure on cregans soldiers, his hard work had made it so winterfells’ food stores were filled to the brim — and cregan was looking forward to being able to cease his constant worrying about having enough to eat.

unfortunately for him, the gods see fit to test him once more.

one of his men hadn’t closed a food store properly, and wasn’t aware until cregan himself checked on it a few days later. by then, the food inside of it had rotted.

it wasn’t the guard himselfs fault, as one of cregans council members had failed to instruct the newly appointed guards on how to close the stores properly. in cregans opinion, error truly laid with his council. you cannot expect people to perform properly if not taught or instructed, and this was so simple a lesson, cregan felt frustration at the prospect of having to teach it.

“Am I to understand, that because of your err, we’ve been lessened an entire store?”

the men in front of him glance at one another, attempting to swallow their nerves. the food store was now being emptied in the background, as cregan had not waited to “properly” assemble in the council room. they stood outside, where cregans tone had deepened, the way it does when lord stark is angered (which is, thankfully, not often)

cregan pauses, waiting for a response, and is only offered a- “Yes, I’m afraid so, my lord….”

“Winter is almost upon us, and you intend on crippling me further. How are you meant to advise me if I must coddle you as a babe?” his tone is harsh, unforgiving. he thinks to hear ideas of solution, about what could be done, but cregan notices something else.

instead of looking at him, every man is looking past him instead. ‘have they no respect for their liege lord?’, a part of him whispers; but curiosity takes over. he turns around, and is met with you.

he blinks in surprise. “Wife.” he says, not expecting your presence. his tone is light now, airy — alike to the cregan that usually graces winterfell. the contrast in his voice from a moment ago to now would make some grin if they weren’t afraid of inciting more of their lords anger.

“I missed my lord husband at supper,” you say, as if nothing was even amiss. “You worried me, Cregan.”

cregans tongue darts out to wet his lip, momentarily forgetting about the men behind him. “That was not my intention, I-“ he cuts himself off, turning back for a moment to glance at the food store being emptied. he sighs, choosing his next words carefully.

“I shall join you momentarily.” he says, turning to face you once more.

you hum, reaching to interlock pinkies (you’re close enough to be discreet). you lean to look past cregans shoulders (a hard task), and you’re met with the faces of cregans council. instead of their usual smug-ness, their faces are a mix of awkwardness, discontent, and embarrassment. the sight of it only makes you smirk, and when you return to cregans gaze, you find a hint of bashfulness swimming in his pupils.

“Behave yourself, my love.”

cregan nods, and you shoot him one last knowing smile before you move to return to the castle.

your presence has calmed him, allowing him to think without the cloud of emotions hanging over his head. he turns back around, and shoots a look at his council before focusing all his attention on the nearby food store.

“What can be done?” he says, tone still edgy, but nowhere near what it was before. his council share an equal relief, grateful to their lady stark for her rescue.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

#dippys asks #dippys 1k #cheeky anon #🫣 anon #house of the dragon #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #sorry if this isn’t as grumpy/sunshine as you’d like!!!#i could always redo it :3

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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

Text

Not All That Glitters is Gold

prompt: during your engagement dinner, you learn from your fiancé's niece that he holds choice words about you. or finding out he calls you clingy behind your back.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 3.1k+

warnings: cursing, draaaama, mild angst, AU timeline technically, hurt and comfort (reader don't play those games i guess), relationship angst, half edited.

His cloak was a shimmering beacon of golden glimmer even in the dark of night. It promoted an air of confidence and swagger, something independent from his usual cockiness. No, with that gold cloak, he walked as if the very air you all breathed was produced by him; being silent and domineering in his presence. It had been something you were initially attracted to, his alluring mystery and overwhelming stoic self-awareness.

He moved around the Throne Room like wings were gifted to his feet, carrying him with lithe movements to look as if gliding. All eyes were on him, whether out of admiration, jealousy, confusion, or lust - eyes followed him no matter where he went, no matter what he did, who he interacted with. You lifted the heavy gold goblet to your lips, taking a careful mouthful of wine before setting it down, swallowing, and standing from your seat at the banquet table.

You wanted your lover, so, you got up to satisfy your craving.

You approached him as he spoke to a pair of noblemen, slowing your gait to ease your arrival and not cause a surprise. Your dress was something a little more alluring, more revealing than you'd usually wear, and as you approached the men, the eyes not belonging to your new fiancé nearly bulged from their skulls.

Daemon turned his head and saw you, smirking as his arm opened and he welcomed you into his side. "I was beginning to wonder where you got off to," you told him softly, one arm around his hips as the other planted your hand against his chest. "The Aunties have descended and are becoming insufferable, I fear I needed reprieve."

Daemon grinned, sounding amused, "It was a matter of time before they found you. Stick with us, darling, the Aunties will stay away."

"They're about to serve dinner," you told him, "perhaps we should find our seats?"

He nodded, looking at the men he had been speaking to before you showed up. Daemon bid politely, offering no other explanation besides, "Excuse us, gentlemen."

They bowed out of their Prince's way, letting Daemon lead you toward the head banquet table (again) where his brother, King Viserys, was sitting with other prominent members of court. The night had been pleasant, everyone rejoicing in the upcoming nuptials between you and the Rogue Prince. For years, he'd been something chaotic and shunned; and after the passing of his first wife, Rhea Royce, he was like a kite cut from string. Loose and set adrift. Wild and out-of-reach. And then you came back into Daemon's life after not seeing one another since you were ten-and-six, and all of a sudden, the Rogue Prince was something more domesticated.

It was a refreshing change, albeit totally uncharacteristic for Daemon.

Viserys was the most shocked of them all, constantly praising you for whatever you had done to his brother to reel him into a controllable pace. He thought you and Daemon were perfect for one another, likened you two to fit-together puzzle pieces. The King had been more than happy to host the celebrations, starting with tonight, an engagement party! You had to play part of dutiful fiancé and upstanding citizen since you were to inherit a royal title; being poised and collected at all times with either a calm, passive expression or one of bright entertainment.

"Here, love," Daemon whispered, pulling your chair out for you. He waited until you were sat before taking his own seat, sighing when he glanced around the table only to settle his gaze on you.

"What's wrong, my Dragon?" You asked softly, leaning in to place your hand over his on his lap; pressed into his side despite the wooden chair arms between you.

"Just amusing," he mused, "most of these Lords and Ladies had much to say about my first marriage, and now, they break our bread to celebrate us."

"Cannot be the first time someone's tried to suck up to you," you chuckled, moving your conjoined hands in your lap. "The dragon does not concern himself with the opinion of the sheep," you advised smartly, "they only tolerate the sheep because one day, the dragon will need to feast - hmm?"

Daemon smirked, "When did you become so insightful, darling?"

"I've always been, you're just pussy-whipped now that I make a lot more sense."

He laughed, letting a servant pour your wine. In your ear, he mused, "Jest all you want, but you were meant to be a Targaryen. Once we are wed, I will plant my seed, and bind us together for eternity."

"Our marriage wouldn't doing exactly that already?"

"A child is more tangible - it's a bloodline."

You shrugged as a plate of blood-red lobster was set in front of you. Viserys truly went all out - giving a wide variety of foods to taste. "A marriage is for life, though," you countered.

"So is a child."

"Until they are married off."

Conversation continued, flowing easily between the family members and patrons of court. Viserys looked pleased, enjoying the celebration as his ailment often caused him grave pain and he could not attend events. He hardly had reason to smile, but when he watched you feed a bite to Daemon, he let his lips spread without thought. Queen Alicent clocked the King's expression, glancing at you and Daemon, then smiled fondly before reaching for her husband's hand.

Throughout the dinner, Rhaenyra watched you and Daemon with a bitter glare on her face; jaw locked and lips pursed. You ignored her obvious displeasure in favor of your husband, both too enraptured with one another to ever pay attention to the Princess' distain. When the meal was over, the dancing, mingling, drinking, and musical portion of the evening commenced.

And cake. Cake was to be served.

Daemon's golden cloak swept around guests as you both played dutiful host for your party, and mingled with those who arrived tonight to celebrate your upcoming nuptials. You did your best to keep up with the plethora of Lords and Ladies, like Daemon did so effortlessly, but it was a lot. You still held your own, but by Gods, there was a lot of people in attendance tonight and there was noway you could remember any names.

Thankfully, while Daemon was caught in a conversation with Ser Gerold Royce, you eventually made it to a small group of familiar faces: Princess Rhaenyra, Ser Harwin Strong, his brother, Larys, Lady Laena Velaryon, and her twin, Ser Laenor.

You graciously received the compliments, well-wishes, and joyful greetings of them all, but acutely noted the Princess did not offer even so much as a polite greeting. "This dress was made for you, it's just darling," Laena complimented, petting the bodice. "It must've cost a fortune."

"It was a gift from Daemon," you told her with a soft smile. "And the necklace, too! See?" You showed her, "He had it custom made, it's Valyrian Steel with embedded jewels."

"The perfect combination of your Houses, and a gorgeous piece of art to hang on such a gorgeous neck," she praised, but it was Princess Rhaenyra's scoff of annoyance that peaked your interest.

You thanked Laena Velaryon before eyeing Rhaenyra. "Princess?" You questioned. "If I may ask you something, plainly?"

"By all means."

"Have I... Upset you in anyway?"

"You mean beside my uncle spending the Crown's coin to buy you something exquisitely made; being a fleeting, lady interest of the Princes'? No, no, nothing's wrong," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"What is this distain you hold towards me - towards my relationship with Daemon?" You demanded, the alcohol in your system spurring you on despite knowing the looming consequences of offering a member of the Royal family sharpened words.

"Truly? You wish to know why I do not fawn over you as others?"

"They do not fawn, oh - " You stopped yourself, sighing deeply and correcting yourself, "Of course I wish to know what the issue at hand here is, Princess, I do not wish for ill-will between us. I wish to resolve this."

"In truth, I simply do not understand it, this - this sham of a wedding," she snapped. "Daemon might buy you pretty things, but it's only out of guilt."

"What guilt could he possibly - "

"He finds you overwhelming, overbearing, suffocatingly clingy. So, with his distain, he, too, felt fleeting guilt - being why he showers you with gifts, it's for his own conscious. But if you ask me why I host such distain towards this union, it is because I know my uncle is not happy with your overwhelmingly clingy behavior. He's voiced his displeasure many-a-time. Not just to me, but to the King and Queen, as well."

You felt shell-shocked, acutely aware of the lingering eyes of the audience around you. You worried: how many of them had heard this rumor, how many secretly pitied you? Finding your voice, you managed to squeak out, "I beg your pardon?"

Rhaenyra only shrugged, "You asked, I answered."

"I see," you cleared your throat. "And your answer is that my betrothed has, what, started to slander my name behind my back?"

"Indeed. His chief complaint is how you seem to cling to him more and more, and he doesn't have the heart to push you away more than he already has. You're the one daft enough to not take a hint."

"And where do you get your information from?"

"Daemon, himself."

Your mind raced with all the little things: how Daemon would release your person during public events, avoid physical touch, ignore you sometimes, shut down your woes (call that gaslighting), how he stiffened at times you took his arm, how he seemed to shut down and only offer bored 'mmhms' when you spoke to him about your life. Your heart sank to your feet as you realized there were some truths to Rhaenyra's words.

You nodded slowly as Daemon chose that moment to approach your awkward group. His arm slithered around your waist, but you were silent as the grave and stiff as the corpse in said grave. Your mind raced with the idea that Rhaenyra could just be fucking with you, but the also with the idea that all she said was true.

"I'm going to retire for the evening, I've a headache," you told Daemon, finding an easy way out of his grip, "but you stay, enjoy the celebration. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am just tired."

He agreed and gently kissed you - sure to remain modest but still affectionate. "I'll visit you tonight," he muttered in your ear.

"No, I am truly tired," you told him softly but sternly. "We'll see each other tomorrow."

He hummed, "Then I shall walk you out - "

"No, you're needed here to save face. Go, mingle, play nice," you dismissed him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You bid whoever you came across a good and safe night; thanking them for their attendance tonight. After thanking the King for hosting the party, you disappeared, taking a few secret passages to avoid the main hustle-and-bustle of the feast. When you arrived in your room, you slammed the door, bolted it, and leaned against it for a good long moment. Your mind was reeling with all kinds of thoughts regarding your intended, his niece, all of it suddenly feeling very overwhelming.

You were exhausted, so, you swiftly stripped, unpinned your hair, refused your maid's help, and soaked in a long, hot bath. After, you settled into bed with a book, and tried not to overwhelm yourself with the anxiety tomorrow would bring.

About an hour later, you heard Daemon knocking at your passage door. You paused, not making a sound, hearing his muffled voice, "Love? My love, are you awake?"

You didn't answer.

"Please, sweet girl, let me in," he begged quietly.

When you wrenched the door open, you seethed, "NO!"

"What - ?"

"I heard plenty tonight from your niece. In your moments of frustration, you know what? Sure, complain about your woes - but to find out you call me clingy when in regard to my affection - that's not something I'm going to be happy hearing, Daemon!"

"I know, but let me explain - "

"What? What will you say? That you just needed someone to talk to? To vent your feelings? I get that - I really do. But you fully offered slander to my name, to our relationship; to who I am as a partner. Your poisoned words of your irritation is soaked into your family, in the courts. And now, I must endure the pity those will offer knowing my husband truly holds distain for me!"

"No, you've got it wrong, I don't - "

"Then why!?" You demanded, voice cracking. "Why say those things? Why not come to me and communicate you're not comfortable with this and that behavior!? I won't know unless you tell me, so, instead of talking your shit to the courts and your family, why not just speak to me!?"

"I should have!" He admitted quickly. "I should have, I know that, and it was my mistake, my love. But I regret it, I regret feeling so, so - I don't know! Sure, let's call it frustrated, irritated, I don't care, I just needed it off my chest!"

"I understand that fully, but being as we're to marry one another, I should be the one listening to you when you need something off your chest. You should talk to me. And if I'm the one you need to speak about, choose more trustworthy confidants that do not need further reason to despise me!"

"What're you...? What? What does that mean?"

"Rhaenyra, Daemon! Your niece, Rhaenyra! Every-fucking-thing you've said to her, she remembers, and holds it against me! You forget, when you speak to family about the woes of your relationship, that's all they remember. You get to make up with me, we get to move on, but because you needed t'vent to them, that's what they can hold against me. Do you even wish to marry me, still!?"

"Of course, I do!"

"Then something needs to change," you deadpanned, exhausted by this. "I refuse to be belittled, spat on, and disrespected by your niece any longer."

"I will speak to her."

"Yes, you will! This is far too out of hand! She has weaponized your frustration to drive a wedge between us, and she chose a public event with an audience to lob it all at me!"

"What truly happened with Rhaenyra? What was so bad?"

"Daemon, she called me out for 'being clingy' in front of an audience! At our engagement celebration! Do you know how humiliating that was!? I'm more embarrassed than angry!"

He nodded, "I'll handle this. I swear, my darling, this will be resolved."

"You know what?" You breathed. "Do whatever you please because I've realized something. Not only did Rhaenyra spew our business to others, but you... You said it in the first place. You said those words..."

"Out of anger - "

"But you still spoke them!"

"I was foolish to do so!"

"You are a fool for many reasons, Daemon, but this is one act I am not willing to forgive so blindly. Wear your jester hat all you'd like, but it will take more than pretty words to make this up to me."

"I'll do what it takes to fix this." He tried to step into the room with you, but you held your ground in the doorway. "My love, please, how can I make it up to you if you do not let me in?"

"You must find any other way to do this because there's no chance in any of the Seven Hells that you share my bed again - married or not." You offered him a look of distain, musing, "You know what, I've decided: I simply don't care what you or your family thinks. I am extremely proud of who I am, and there's not a soul alive that can make me feel lesser than. Your words hurt, they cut deeper hearing it from the Princess, but that's simply your opinion," you eased. "I refuse to modify myself, but it's good to know you don't like my affection - I can always reserve it for whoever I choose to warm my bed. What was it you said?" You quipped venomously, "Marriages are political arrangements?"

"Not ours," he snapped.

"Oh? We're so different, are we?" You laughed.

"Of course we are, there's nothing I'd change. Hear me? Nothing," he sounded angry. "I was a fool to speak out of term, but you're right, I should talk to you about it - I am simply unequipped to having a wife I've chosen."

"Oh, spare me - "

"It's true," he insisted, "what woman in my life has loved me as you do? Has encouraged me to be so - so - loving and safe?"

"Apparently, I've been clingy and not as encouraging as I thought."

"I spoke out of turn," he insisted. "You're right - I can't go and take back what I've said. But I will do all I can to ensure I change their opinions on you, to mop up whatever verbal mess I've made."

You laughed without humor.

"And I will set Rhaenyra straight about all of this, I will ensure she knows that there's no room for such tension, jealousy, hatred."

"You swear to clean up all your messes?" You wondered earnestly.

"I swear."

"Good," you mused, "after that, how do you intend on rebuilding my trust?"

Daemon blinked, "You do not trust me anymore?"

"Of course not," you assured, "not since finding out how you speak of me so hatefully without my knowledge. That's where trust comes in, Daemon, but you proved me wrong, and now, that trust is gone."

Daemon looked confused, mouth opening and closing rapidly, shaking his head, "No, no, no, love, don't do this. We're okay, all right? We're fine, things with us - we're fine. We're okay."

"Saying it doesn't make it true."

"Do not tell me," He snapped. "H-Have I lost you?"

"Mhm. Not saying you can't fix things between us, but as of now, there's nothing about you I can trust."

"And if you cannot trust me, can you love me?"

You paused, considering his words. Honestly, his betrayal was something that hurt worse than anything you've endured before. "I'll have to think about that one," you whispered. With a saddened look, you hugged the door, sighing, and bid, "Goodnight, my Prince."

"My sweet - don't shut me out. Don't do this."

"Find a way to make this all up to me," you demanded, "because I'd hate for either of us to eventually resent this marriage, too."

He tried to argue but you shut the door on him forcefully; loudly locking it from the inside to prevent him from following you. You felt yourself brimming with anger, but nothing was like the betrayal coursing through your heart and veins. There was no sleep that night, there was a lot of tears, a lot of pacing, and a lot of grumbling to yourself.

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