#which i think is also true of aemond and aegon

[fruitageoforanges]

thinking about how the greens are so conquerors-coded. obviously aegon ii has those parallels to aegon i, a terrible legacy and expectation of fire and blood, but helaena also has parallels with rhaenys as a queen who’s considered a softer counterpart to her husband and beloved by the smallfolk.

then there’s aemond. possibly the most visenya-coded targ since the woman herself. he has her dragon, her penchant for war crimes, her commitment to her duty, potentially also her black magic depending on what the truth of his relationship with alys is — but i think the way he’s most like visenya is in his relationship with his siblings, especially aegon. he really is aegon’s visenya — his sullen, sometimes disagreeable protector. his sword will always fall on aegon’s side. he saves him at rook’s rest, rules the country in his stead and doesn’t try to take it, eventually dies trying to secure his crown. say what you will about aegon and aemond’s relationship, i think at the heart of it he has visenya-like devotion and duty.

[bronzefuryfic]

Thinking about Aegon's attitude towards Helaena in Ch. 10:

"What?" Aegon asked, glaring at them. "She was my sister first."

and how loaded "she was my sister first" is.

In that it is both a reclamation of the fact that despite their betrothal they are siblings first and foremost and Aegon holds that part more dearly than either Aemond or Rhae realize. And in addition to being upset that his relationship with Rhae is threatened, his betrothal threatens to reframe his relationship with Helaena as it exists now.

But also "she was my sister first" is an assertion of the fact that Aegon has known Helaena the longest, she was his sister before Aemond was even conceived, and Aegon is jealous of the notion that Helaena is closer with Aemond. He's angry with both Rhae and Aemond for not recognizing that he does care about Helaena. And that's his own fault, because Aegon likes to act aloof.

But it's not true. They do talk. But about what? Hm...

[fioiswriting]

Muña | one shot

Summary : Marrying your bastard nephew to mend fences between your families wasn't exactly what you had planned. But when you realise that Jace has grown into a strong and handsome man, you might be ready to rethink your plans.

Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Aunt!Reader (Reader is Alicent and Visery’s daughter. She’s one year younger than Aegon)

TW : p in v sex, mommy kink, sub!Jace (kinda), Dom!Reader (but they both switch tbh), inappropriate use of the word muña, oral (f receiving), afab reader, incest, unprotected sex, not proofread

Words count : 8064

AN : hi everyone!! I’ve been very busy lately so I haven't had time to update BUT I’ve been working a bit on various fics. Sorry to all my Aemond girlies but today it’s time for some Jace x reader. It’s a fic I’ve written for my gf who’s turning into a Jace girlie 🤭 It's full of indecency and inappropriate things.

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 

Enjoy 🖤

The gardens had become your refuge over the past few days. Under the shade of the trees, on the soft grass, you had found a peaceful haven away from the excitement caused by the arrival of your half-sister and her herd of bastards. The Red Keep made you feel suffocated. And seeing your mother pacing back and forth, running left and right, didn't help. You had to calm her down. You had to keep an eye on your older brother, making sure he didn't slip away into the maze of Flea Bottom for the umpteenth time. You had to hold your family together, and you were tired. 

You almost envied Daeron, in Old Town, away from the hustle and bustle of the court.

At least no one would think of looking for you where you were now. And you could enjoy a moment's respite, poring over the thick book you had borrowed from Aemond's library. Had he known that you had entered his room without warning, had he known that you had dared to disturb the perfect tidiness of his precious bookshelves, he would probably have threatened to feed you to Vhagar. But what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Besides, you could perhaps find a way to pay him back later. 

For now, you just needed to be left alone.

You stretched out, arms reaching for the sky. The sun's rays crept through the leaves, their warmth leaving a pleasant sensation on your face. Summer was back and you were delighted. The gentle breeze that ruffled the corners of your book and occasionally lifted the silver curls around your face gave you a sense of freedom. You deftly kicked off your shoes and lay back for a moment, your eyes closed.

Footsteps echoed on the cobbled floor, and you sighed in annoyance. You didn't have to open your eyes to see who it was. You recognised his footsteps. So, you kept your eyes closed. With any luck, he would continue his way and leave you alone to find someone else to annoy.

"Hey, my favourite little sister," Aegon exclaimed as he landed heavily beside you, his body brushing against yours. You opened one eye to acknowledge him, then closed it again, your arms crossed behind your head. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?" he insisted when he saw you weren't answering him. "You know, make sure I don't run off or end up drunk somewhere…Stuff like that. Which our mother probably asked you to do."

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. It was true that Aegon was terribly annoying. But of all your siblings, Aegon was still your favourite.

You resigned yourself to rolling onto your stomach, your chin resting on your hands and your head tilted sideways to face him.  "My dear brother," you replied sarcastically. "Unable to occupy yourself, as usual."  He rolled his eyes before reaching out to remove a leaf that had gotten caught in your hair. He subtly ran his fingers through one of your curls, his touch as light as a feather. "And why have you decided to come and disturb my moment of peace, tell me?"

He blew the leaf away and you watched as it flew away on the breeze. Your big brother's eyes shone with mischief. "Why would I need a specific reason to spend time with my favourite sister?" he added, and it was your turn to roll your eyes. He moved to lie next to you, his body practically pressed against yours. 

If you moved a few centimetres, your elbows would touch his. 

You'd always been inseparable, and the habit had stuck over time, even when the teenage years had driven you apart. But in those moments, you were like two children again, ready to run away from Septa lessons to get into mischief in the castle.

“Because you always have a reason for everything,” you replied, and he looked at you with a fake hurt look that was greatly exaggerated. With Aegon it was easy. It had always been easy.  He wasn't as serious as Aemond, he wasn't as strange as Helena, and he wasn't as far away as Daeron.

"I just wanted to make sure my little sister was all ready to meet her betrothed tonight." He paused. "And also, that she hadn't suddenly decided to become a pious woman and follow the path of the Seven." His voice lowered. You poked him in the ribs. "See? I'm a caring big brother. I care about you."

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied. He laughed. Then he rolled onto his back, arms crossed behind his head, one leg bent, and he closed his eyes. The golden rays caught in his long lashes made him look like an angel. 

Everything he wasn't. 

'Well?' He added. “Excited to see Jacaerys Strong?”

You sat cross-legged. The bracelets on your wrists clinkled. Aegon knew how much the idea horrified you. You had no desire to marry Jace, to sacrifice your freedom for your half-sister's bastard eldest son. You had no desire to leave the Red Keep, to follow him to Dragonstone and spend your life bearing him children. It was your mother and Rhaenyra's idea, of course.

The union of the eldest daughter of one and the eldest son of the other, as a way of repairing the rift that has grown between your families over time. 

As if you were destined to mend fences, to undo the mistakes of your own parents.

It wasn't that you hated Jace. But he was your older sister's son, a bastard who had pretensions he shouldn't have precisely because he was a bastard. He was the model son, the perfect son, the prodigy son, the one who always did everything right. It irritated you. He irritated you with his brown curls and his awkward posture.

 It wasn't fair that your father showered him with praise when he could barely remember your own name.

You stood up, smoothing the folds of your red dress to make yourself more presentable, and you caught your brother's eyes on your body, his eyes riveted on the thin fabric that revealed your delicate shapes. God, you loved to play with that. You knew how to get men wrapped around your finger with your sweet, innocent air, and Aegon was the first victim. You approached him and held out your arm to help him up, which he accepted by pulling himself to his feet heavily. After putting your shoes back on, you bent down to pick up the thick book in your arms. If you lost it, you could be sure that Aemond would be angry with you. And that was a risk you didn't want to take.

 "Perhaps you're right, lēkia. I'd better go and make myself more presentable for my betrothed. I wouldn't wish to disgrace our family." And with that you turned back, your hair swirling in the air behind you as Aegon watched you go with a small smile on his face. 

You knew how much Aegon hated being ignored, and even more so when it came from his little sister. You knew that he would return with his tail between his legs and a pleading look on his face. Between his constant whining and his dirty jokes, he gave you little respite, but it was a game that had developed between you; a game that, deep down, you enjoyed.

He was so predictable. 

“If I had known you liked strong men, I would have dyed my hair,” you heard him shout from behind you. Aegon wasn't the least bit shy. You shook your head, your silver locks bouncing.

"Get lost, you moron," you replied without even turning around.

The meal in honour of your betrothal promised to be exciting.

*** 

As soon as he saw you, your nephew rose to pull the chair beside him in a gallant gesture, and you found yourself watching him. Really watching him. His long, broad fingers on the back of the chair. His dark locks falling around his face. His precise features; his straight nose and deep eyes and square jaw. You hadn't realised how much your nephew had changed. He'd grown up too, and he was now a good head taller than you. 

He had become a strong man, indeed.

But you refused to admit that Jacaerys Strong had become quite pleasant to look at.

"Princess," he said, pushing the chair back for you to sit down. Fingers brushed the skin of your partly bare shoulders. The touch had lasted a fraction of a second, enough to make you wonder if it had been a figment of your imagination. 

"Lord Strong," you replied in greeting. If the words hurt him, Jace didn't show it. Always the perfect son. What would it take to push him over the edge? To crack the shell he'd built around himself? To shatter the image of the gentleman?

To your right, Aegon was already seated. He was holding a glass of wine between his fingers while Aemond seemed to be lecturing him about something you couldn't understand. The exchange between you and Jace had obviously not escaped his notice, and the corner of his mouth had already curled into a smirk. You knew what it meant. 

His silence was full of implications, louder than any words. 

Your mother had lectured him before dinner, warned him to behave because that was what was expected of him, and she was counting on you to make him obey. 

But your older brother didn't say anything. He simply raised his glass in your direction, his lips forming a word that you couldn't read. You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed.

You looked at your nephew. He had donned a gambison in the colours of the Velaryons, and you couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. 

After all, a bastard in blue was still a bastard.

"Enjoying King's Landing?" you asked your betrothed, in an attempt to start a conversation. His attention turned to you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. 

“It's quite different from what I remember,” he replied, his voice a little lower than usual, his warm eyes meeting yours. “But of course it all depends on the company you are with."

You hesitated, suddenly unsure.

You hated what the sound of his voice did to you. You hated the way his eyes suddenly made you feel vulnerable. 

Fuck.

“It all depends on the company, indeed. And do you find yourself in good company tonight, nephew?" You gave him a defiant look, as if to judge his reaction. 

As if to unveil what he held within himself. 

“I'm not quite sure. Should I?” He paused, one eyebrow raised. He had taken the bait. “What would yousay?”

His eyes sparkled with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't the malice you usually found in Aegon's eyes when he wanted to tease you. It wasn't the gleam that animated his mind when he came up with a new plan for you to cover. 

"I would say I'm in pretty strong company," you replied as you took your cup, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of your lips that you hid behind the glass. 

You were cruel, giving him no respite, you knew. But you admired his composure. He hadn't cracked yet. 

You knew men who were less patient.

Jace leaned towards you. A slight tilt of the head, just to make sure you were the only one to hear him. As if he wanted to share a secret with you. “Careful, Aunt,” he began, his voice suddenly quieter than before. It was almost a whisper. “I might begin to think you enjoy my company.”

You know I don't, you wanted to reply, but Jace had already straightened up as if nothing had happened, his head turned away from you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Baela give him a questioning look, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred in the pit of your stomach. 

An unpleasant heat. 

A hint of irritation.

You were annoyed, and you didn't know why.

“Look how handsome your betrothed has made himself for you,” Aegon sneered as he reached for the decanter and leaned in close to your ear. “A true Velaryon, isn't he?” He huffed.

You wanted to slap him on the thigh, make him swallow his mockery. 

“If you think he's so handsome, I can happily leave him to you,” you replied, and Aegon's eyes widened. You saw him take a sip of wine, and something deep inside you told you he probably wasn't opposed to the idea. His usual mischievous smile was hidden behind the wine glass, but there was no mistaking his eyes.

Aegon had that tendency to give himself away, and you could read him like an open book.

The meal proved to be as boring as you had imagined. Small talk exchanged over fake smiles. An illusory moment in which everything seemed to be going well for one evening.

You weren't fooled, and you knew it was all a facade. You knew your family well enough to understand that the slightest spark could set things alight. You knew your brothers well enough to realise that all it would take was a simple glance between them to liven up an evening they found dull.

You just hoped they wouldn't cause too much trouble tonight.

To your left, Jace was still deep in conversation with Baela. They had that kind of complicity that made your blood boil inside; a shared laugh that sounded in your ear like the squeaky music you hated. You frowned. It was you, his betrothed. It was you, not Baela, and you didn't understand why that statement was suddenly so important. 

After all, you despised this union. You hated Jace. You had no desire to promise him the rest of your life.

Jace was a bastard, and you deserved better.

So why did the sight of him touching Baela's hand cause a twinge of jealousy in your body?

His fingers brushed over hers absently. A light touch on her knuckles. 

And all you felt was fire.

And then. Then, your fingers slipped under the wooden table. 

You knew you were playing with fire. And you knew that if anyone paid too much attention to what you were doing, they would see that you weren't exactly behaving like the perfect Princess Targaryen you were supposed to be.

But you didn't care.

You let your fingers wander, running along the outside of Jace's thigh before moving up to settle in the hollow that connected his thigh to his hip. With a faint touch, your fingertips brushed the inside of his thigh, and then lower, tracing small circles through the fabric that was already beginning to tighten. 

Jace almost choked. 

He spat out the contents of his glass, his dark gaze fixed on you. Everyone had fallen silent, their heads turned towards him. Rhaenyra's eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

And you hadn't removed your hand. 

An innocent smile lit up your face, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You wondered if Aegon could read you. If he could see that look on your face, so similar to his own. That distinctive feature you shared. 

Deciding to play with your prey a little longer, you put on your best fake concerned face, pretending to be worried about his health.

"Are you all right, Jacaerys?" you asked, your voice a little higher than usual as your nails dug into the fabric of his breeches. Not to hurt him, of course. Just enough to wake a certain part of him, just enough to remind him that you were his betrothed.

He cleared his throat and coughed again.

“I swallowed wrong,” he replied. 

Your fingers crept a little higher, trying to explore his upper thigh, where you knew your nephew would be sensitive. You didn't want to be rational tonight, you wanted to let the fire take over and consume you. 

You wanted to let the sleeping dragon within you awaken.

The taste of the forbidden was divine, and the heat spreading through your lower belly was too delicious to stop now.

"Be careful, mandianna. We're not married yet." you said.  We're not married yet and look where I've got my fingers. You kept your thoughts to yourself. "I wouldn't want to find myself a widow already," you replied in High Valyrian, amused, and Jace looked at you with his big brown eyes, somewhere between anger and excitement, embarrassment and curiosity. 

Under the table, out of sight, your hand brushed the stretched fabric where you could read the confirmation of what he was feeling, the manifestation of his desire.

He was hard.

Perfect.

It was you who provoked this. 

He responded to your touch.

You felt a familiar breath on the back of your neck and realised Aegon was leaning against you again. He was pretending to serve you some of the vegetables that had just been brought in for the starter, taking the opportunity to whisper in your ear as he did so well. "Try to be more discreet, little sister," he chuckled softly, his voice nothing more than a whisper to make sure no one heard you. Discreetly, he nodded to where your hand still rested on your nephew's thigh. He tilted his head. "Rhaenyra is right in front of us. Do you think she can see what you're doing to her son under the table?"

He put on his best disinterested face. As if the words exchanged between you were nothing more than banalities. 

As if he weren't commenting on the indecent deeds you were doing under the table, unworthy of a girl of your rank.

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. You didn't want him drawing any more of your family's attention to you, especially when you hadn't finished playing.

Your big brother gave you a knowing wink, as if to promise you that your secret was safe with him.

And you decided to continue entertaining yourself with the new game you'd invented.

You were bold, and you decided that if Jace didn't already know it, he would find out soon enough.

*** 

It wasn't that Jace was disappointed with his betrothal. You were divine, and the dress you wore made you so regal that he couldn't keep his attention anywhere but on your body, on your cleavage so gracefully offered to his gaze.

It was precisely why he had turned to Baela, why he had tried to distract himself with their conversation, why he had desperately tried to find something else to hold on to.

Because you were making him lose his footing. And that was a feeling he hated.

No, Jace did not regret his betrothal. You were everything a man could want; you were beautiful, you were regal, you were clever, and above all, you were a Targaryen. A princess. The king's daughter.

The only problem was you were distant and elusive.

Jace remembered your pretensions and mockeries from his childhood. He remembered the little brat you were, following in your older brother's footsteps. He remembered a little girl with a strong temper, who knew what she wanted. He remembered the pranks, not just the ones he'd taken part in, like the Pink Dread, but the ones that had turned against him because of you and Aegon, too.

It was clear that the little girl you had once been, taller than him, with long silver curls and an air of self-assurance far too confident for her young age, had grown into a beautiful young woman. 

And that was something Jace hadn't considered.

He couldn't concentrate on his conversation with Baela, not when your fingers were digging through the linen of his breeches into the flesh of his thigh, as if to remind him to whom he had been promised.  

Your fingers, slender, light, burning against his inner thigh. 

He clenched his jaw.

All around him, the words and faces of the guests mingled in a swirl of sound and colour. Fuck.

Fuck.

His breeches were really becoming too tight.

You'd dared to do that. You'd dared to slip your fingers under the table, in front of everyone, and Jace didn't know whether to admire your audacity or wrap his fingers around your wrist and force you to take them off. 

Suddenly he felt hot, a familiar warmth spreading between his loins. 

He wasn't sure he could get up, not with his member pulsing between his thighs. 

Fuck. You weren't supposed to make him feel like this. He wasn't supposed to feel such a desire for you when you weren't officially married.

This dinner was about officially declaring your betrothal, not consummating a union not yet pronounced.

He was trying to calm down. He tried to ground himself back into reality. Perhaps by staring intently at the contents of his plate he could ignore the sensation of your fingers rising dangerously high; the desperate need to finally have your fingers wrapped around his manhood.

His knees slammed into the table in a sudden movement.

Your fingers had just brushed the bulge that had formed between his thighs. 

And he needed more, infinitely more.

You couldn't have the cruelty to arouse such lust in him and then leave him like that. He would never forgive you.

"Stop that," he growled in your direction, low enough for no one else to hear. 

But you still had that damn innocent smile, that damn audacity to act as if nothing had happened. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, mandianna." Nephew. The sound of the High Valyrian rolling off your tongue sent a wave of heat between his legs. Seven hells, you were going to be the death of him. 

He wanted more. 

He needed more. 

More of your fingers around him, more of your tongue against his length, more of that innocent look on your face as you knelt before him, more of your tight cunt.

Jace was on the verge of losing it. You'd made him a slave to his own desire. You had closed your claws around him and he knew there was no turning back now.

“If you play with fire too much, you might get burned, muña," Jace retorted, leaning towards you, and he felt the imperceptible movement of your hand twitching at the threat. Aunt.

Despite his dwindling strength, King Viserys tried to make a speech about family, betrothal, and a whole host of other undoubtedly honourable values, but neither you nor Jace paid any attention. You were caught up in your own game.

Then Jace stood up, forcing you to remove your hand. 

You could see he was uncomfortable, for you knew where to look, for you knew what you had done. 

You knew he had a painful erection between his thighs, and it was all because of you.

But you could only admire your nephew's composure. 

“To my uncles, Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. I have fond memories of our shared childhood.” His glass between his fingers, he raised it in the direction of his uncles, then turned to you. "And to my sweet and beautiful bride-to-be, who I'm sure will never cease to surprise me with her daring and surprising side. May our marriage be filled with joy and satisfaction".

The toasts continued, as did the meal. The servants had brought the rest of the dishes consisting of steaming meat and tasty garnishes. It was almost too joyous, almost too happy to be real. As if there was a threat lurking somewhere in the corner.

But Jace still had to teach you a lesson.

The music started, the sound of instruments filling the room. Jace apologised to Baela and walked over to his aunt. His other aunt. Your sister. 

And you felt the anger return; the same inner turmoil as before. 

Jace had held out his hand to Helaena and led her to dance a little further away. You immediately exchanged a questioning look with your brother, who had also stared at Jace in disbelief as he had walked away on your little sister's arm.

"So?" Aegon began. "It seems your betrothed didn't appreciate your little game?" You glared at him, but he just scoffed. "If he changes his mind... You know I like it." 

You wondered if you could do the same. You wondered if you could ask Aegon to dance and if Jace would feel the same bubbling inside him, the same jealousy coursing through his veins.

You hated that feeling. 

You shouldn't feel that kind of emotion, especially not for him.

You obviously didn't see it, too focused on your own annoyance, but Jace kept glancing in your direction, as if to make sure you saw him. 

He wanted to make you jealous. He wanted to fuel the feeling he'd identified in you. He wanted to catch you at your own game. And one thing was certain, Jace hadn't played all his cards yet.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

After a moment that seemed an eternity, your betrothed returned to sit beside you, Helena going back to her own seat. You were less and less able to hide your annoyance, and no doubt Jace noticed, for he leaned towards you, a satisfied look on his face. "Your sister is very sweet," he murmured. He knew very well that this simple phrase would be enough to send you over the edge. 

You liked attention. You liked compliments. You liked to be praised. 

You said nothing back. But Aegon had his trademark grin, the one that stretched his lips when he had a devious plan, and he was already getting up on the pretext of serving Baela some wine so he could whisper in his nephew's ear.  "I know my little sister can be particularly demanding.” He paused. “And difficult to tame. So if you ever need any advice... Or demonstrations…"

Jace was fuming, but he knew he had to keep his cool. It was Aegon, typical Aegon, to push his buttons, to succeed in making him suddenly unsure of himself, to make his mind confused. His fingers closed around his cup, his jaw clenched, and it took all his self-control not to throw the contents in his uncle's face. 

He didn't even look at Aegon, who had returned to his seat with a triumphant smile.

But you felt something under the table. Something slipped between the folds of your dress, along your skin, discreetly, lightly, a delicious touch against your skin that made you want more.

Your eyes widened.

Jace. 

Jace the perfect son. Jace the model son. 

Jace slipping his fingers under your dress, touching the skin of your thigh, rising dangerously high where you could already feel the wetness forming in the crease between your thighs. 

This was the moment he snapped, you knew it. You hadn't heard your brother's words, you had only seen him lean towards your betrothed, but you knew he must have struck a chord with Jacaerys Velaryon. That he had probably touched his weak spot. 

Or perhaps you were just getting your comeuppance. After teasing him, after making him hard and desperate.

Jace moved his hand, tracing the space where your skin was soft and tender, all the way up your thigh, with a slow, gentle touch. His hand moved further towards the centre of you, where you were sensitive, and he brushed against your crotch. He didn't even need to apply any pressure with his fingertips to tell that you were wet.

Your hips automatically moved towards his hand in search of more contact, causing you to wiggle in your chair. All you wanted to do was grab his wrist, force him to slide his fingers under the fabric separating you, force him to touch you right here. But you were still at dinner and the game was becoming far too dangerous. 

"I told you to be careful," Jace whispered as he withdrew his fingers and resumed his serious gaze, his fingers fidgeting on the wood of the table. “Two can play at this game.”

And then perhaps the Seven heard you. Perhaps they were offering you a way out. To be honest, you weren't sure if it was a miracle or a curse. For Aemond had risen, and he had done what he did best; he had made a mocking and provocative speech to his nephews. 

Everything happened quickly. Jace and Luke leapt to their feet to answer the provocation, Aemond and Aegon were ready to fight back, and even Baela and Rhaena were prepared to defend their family. You had no time to move, no time to react, for dinner was already over, and so was your little game of cat and mouse with Jace.

This was your way out, you knew it. You were tired of sitting around a table listening to boring speeches. And the entertainment that had consisted of sliding your fingers under the table to push Jacaerys Strong over the edge had now turned against you.

"I shall rest," you warned your mother, who was deep in conversation with Rhaenyra, her features wrinkled with worry. "Tonight's events have left me somewhat tired. And I think a night's rest would do me a world of good."  She nodded, stroking your hair, and you knew instinctively what she was thinking. Always the perfect daughter.

And as you passed through the heavy door of the dining room, you hurried off in a direction that was not that of your room.

Oh, but if she knew.

*** 

Thankfully, the corridor was deserted. You didn't have the slightest desire to run into a guard who would ask you where you were going or escort you to your room for security reasons. 

Your steps were as discreet as possible on the stone floor, like those of a small mouse. You moved quickly, stealthily, almost on tiptoe.

Only the crackle of the fire broke the heavy silence between the cold walls, where the dancing shadows of the flames distorted.

You slowed your pace. You had a doubt. You weren't sure which door was the one you were looking for. 

And then suddenly, as you reached the end of the corridor, you felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you against the wall, away from prying eyes. A strong grip, as if it didn't want to let you vanish again.

Jace was holding you between the wall and his own body. Despite the darkness, you could see his eyes shining in the candlelight, fueled by a devouring hunger you didn't know he possessed. He stared at you for a moment. His eyes in yours. A tension hung between you, burning, ready to consume you both, and you were completely willing.

Gently yet firmly he turned your body. Your chest against the cold wall, your back against his warm chest, and you pulled your hips back to provoke him. You wouldn't succumb so easily, not to Jacaerys.

He pressed himself against you, moving his pelvis forward so you could feel his hard member against the top of your buttocks.

"Do you feel what you're doing to me?" Another thrust of his hips. "Can you feel the effect you're having on me?" He pressed harder against you. Through the layers of fabric between you, you could almost feel him throb. Gods, he seemed big. "Teasing me all evening... Such a tease, aren't you?"

If it wasn't the consequence of your own actions.

You stifled a moan with your arm so as not to attract any patrolling guards. What you were doing was dangerous. At any moment you could be caught. At any moment you could be in big trouble.

But you couldn't stop now. Not when the best was yet to come.

You moved again, seeking more contact, seeking to make Jace harder and more painful than he already was, and you turned your head to challenge him. "What if it's you who's just too weak?"

You felt his hoarse breath against the back of your neck, at the base of your hair. He seemed to be hesitating, thinking. About what he was going to do to you, about what he was going to do to make sure you were responsible for your actions. Again he turned you so that you had your back to the wall, facing him, and you recognised the gleam of desire in his eyes.

Towering over you, he lowered his gaze to you, your faces inches apart. For a moment he let his eyes devour you, wandering from your eyes to your lips, from your lips to your breasts, visible through the fabric of your dress. He wanted to keep this image printed behind his eyelids; your half-open lips, your pleading gaze, like that of a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

You looked ravishing.

"Tell me to stop," Jace murmured. And you knew it was the sensible thing to do, you knew it was better to stop everything now, while it was still possible to turn back. For you weren't married yet. 

But you had no desire to be responsible.

His fingers curled around a lock of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, waiting for your answer before continuing.

"What if I don't want you to stop?" you replied, your eyes locked with his. He felt your hand against his cheek as you detailed his face, tracing his well-sculpted cheeks, and he longed for more contact, his face seeking the warmth of your palm. 

You put your arms around his neck to draw him closer, to close the distance between your lips, to feel his warmth against your body.

To quench this desire, this need that was becoming uncontrollable.

And your lips met in a feverish, urgent kiss. He pressed you further against the wall, his fingers running down your sides, brushing against the breasts he so craved.

He found your hips and his fingers worked frantically up the bottom of your dress in a crumpled ball of fabric to reach your core. "Look at how wet you are." His fingers brushed your folds through your undergarments. "All of this just for teasing me." He pressed one hand against the wall, still leaning against you, but not giving you what you wanted: his hand had stopped, and you tried to wiggle your hips to force him to continue, to force him to give you what you wanted.

Deep down, you loved the way he was losing control. 

You loved that side of Jace you didn't know. 

So you grabbed his wrist, guiding his fingers under the last barrier that separated his skin from yours. 

The sensation was delicious. 

The touch of his warm fingers against your folds sent a wave of heat from your lower belly through your entire body. You didn't want him to stop. "Here." You breathed against his lips. "This is where muña needs you." Aunt. He tensed beneath you, and you wondered if it was the ambiguity of the family tie, uttered in High Valyrian, that had such an effect on him. 

You let your lips brush against his.

He collected your wetness on his fingers, exploring the slit between your folds up to your little pearl. You were soaking wet. And you desperately needed him inside you. 

His fingers slid down to your opening where he applied a little pressure with the tip of his index finger without ever penetrating you.

"I know," he murmured, drawing small circles before abandoning your opening to return to your bud. "But I can't give you what you want now."

You whimpered under his cruelty, against his lips. 

You could see through his game. 

He wanted to make you beg, but you weren't the kind to beg. You were the one with the power and you were going to show him.

"We shouldn't stay here," you muttered, rubbing yourself against your nephew's hand. "If someone catches us..."

Jace nodded his head in agreement, withdrawing his fingers glistening with your juice, which you guided to his own lips, spreading the stickiness against his lips. 

"If you're a good boy, I'll let you taste me."

And with that, he pulled you into his room.

*** 

Lying on the bed where you'd pushed him, Jace watched as you removed your dress, his prominent erection stretching the fabric of his breeches. The dress fell to the floor, forming a red puddle that you stepped over, one foot after the other.

Your nephew couldn't look away from your hypnotic figure, but his eyes inevitably wandered back to your breasts. You'd seen him glancing at your cleavage all evening, you could tell he wanted to run his fingers over your soft flesh, his lips over your nipples, and now that you were completely naked in front of him, you could see the unmistakable desire in his eyes.

You walked up to him. He clenched his jaw when he saw you. You, and the perfection of your shape, your little pointed nipples, the tantalising path that led from your chest to the space between your thighs where he knew you were soaked for him. 

The flat of your hand pressed against his chest, forcing him to lie down between the pillows. He complied, never breaking the eye contact between the two of you, and you took your place on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. His husky breath escaped through his parted lips, lightly caressing your face.

You were naked, he was still dressed, and you had infinite power over him.

You lowered your hips against his covered crotch, the essence of your desire staining the linen of his breeches as your hips began to move slowly.

You leaned down and traced his jaw with the tip of your lips, planting kisses along his throat. Underneath you, his member twitched. Mimicking what he'd done earlier, you let your fingers rest on the painful bulge between his legs and whispered, "I know." You applied a little more pressure, drawing a moan from between his lips. "I know it's painful. But I can't give you what you want right now."

Jace growled. He wanted to turn you over, slam you against the mattress, pound into you and make you swallow your insolence. But he wanted to see how far you were willing to go. He wanted to see you keep control for a while longer.

You deftly undid his breeches to make it easier for your hand to slip through. You found his hard member, warm and heavy between your fingers.

It was a new sensation. As a model princess, you'd never ventured into this territory, saving your maidenhood for your future husband.

But Jace was your future husband.

You closed your fingers around him, your thumb collecting the sticky beads that had already formed at the tip of his cock and spreading it along his length. 

"First I want to come on your tongue," your lips articulated against the skin of his throat as the hand that was in his breeches moved up his torso to close around his jaw, your thumb caressing his lower lip to emphasise your words. "Will you let me?" you added. In response, he let the tip of his tongue slip between his lips, touching the pad of your finger. "Let me show you," he whispered.

And indeed, Jace worked devotedly between your thighs, his tongue tracing the length of your slit, drinking in your essence as it flowed from your entrance like a delicious nectar. His tongue tickled your little knob, his thumbs spreading your folds to gain access to the treasure he coveted.

One of his fingers found your hole clenching around nothing, tracing small circles against it to force you to voice what you wanted. "Do you need me here?" he whispered against your flesh, the vibration of his deep voice sending shivers through your core. Your hands buried themselves in the dark mass of his hair and you moved your hips against his face, urging him to maintain the contact of his mouth against you. "Use your words, muña," he added, despite his nose being buried between your folds.

When you gave him the answer he was waiting for, he let a finger enter you in a delicious stretch. You held back a moan, your fingers digging deeper into his hair, not caring if you were hurting him or not. He continued to explore your cunt with his tongue, like a thirsty man, like a devoted man.

You wouldn't last long, your release close.

Jace then added a second finger. The sensation of his fingers inside you, against that rough spot, combined with that of his tongue between your folds, against your pearl, was simply divine. 

"Go on," Jace started, but you immediately cut him off. "Shut up." You didn't want him to speak. You wanted him to continue with his damn tongue, with his broad fingers inside you. You didn't want him to stop. "I am... I am close."

And your climax washed over your entire body like a wave of warmth. Your legs closed around your nephew's face.

It was probably one of the best sensations you'd ever experienced.

Still between your legs, his fingers gripping your thighs, Jace collected your arousal on his tongue, sending shivers of overstimulation down your spine, and your whole body shuddering in a brutal spasm. You straightened up, knees still bent, your hand returning to your nephew's hair to guide him over you, his face close to yours. You stroked his cheek gently, as if to let him know he was a good boy, and your thumb picked up the sticky fluid that was smeared all over the bottom of his face.

You were both out of breath. You from the intense release you'd felt, he from the dedication he'd shown.

A smirk formed at the corner of your lips, and you pressed your thumb between his lips to ensure he didn't waste anything. Jace tilted his face close to yours. "You taste divine," he breathed, turning your cheeks red. "But now I need to be inside you."

His fingers slipped between your thighs, where your centre was pulsing, still far too sensitive from the ministrations he had given you. 

"You can give me another, can't you?" He asked, and you nodded, so sore.

After he undressed, Jace pushed on your shoulders to make you lie down, but you skilfully changed positions, taking him by surprise.

You were unwilling to give him the power he wanted, not yet.

Straddling him, you moved your hips to rub your crotch against his erect manhood, spreading your wetness along his length. Beneath you, his torso rose and fell rapidly, and the grunts he let out conveyed his need for more. So your hand sought his hard member, guiding it to your entrance without letting it penetrate you. "So?" you asked playfully. "Do you think you've been a good boy ? Do you think you deserve to be inside me?" You wanted to make him beg, and Jace could see right through you. "To be the first?" you added, lowering your voice slightly, as if you were telling him a secret.

But he wasn't sure he could hold out much longer.

So he capitulated, giving you the defeat you'd been waiting for.

"Yes." he breathed. "Please." Your victorious smile stretched your lips and you guided him further against you, pressing his erection against your opening. Fuck. He was massive.

He was about to breathe a sigh of relief, ready to feel your velvet walls tighten around him, but you blocked his hip movement. 

It wasn't enough.

"Please who?" you asked, your fingers moving back and forth around his manhood. He glared at you. You were gloating. "Please, muña," he finally begged, and you gave him what he wanted.

You lowered your hips to let him slide into you in a long thrust that stretched you around him. He was indeedmassive, and the new sensation of having him inside you was a delicious mix of dull pain and burning pleasure. You stood still for a moment to adjust to his presence inside you, your core throbbing around him. The initial pinch gradually dissipated, replaced by a pleasant sensation that sent a wave of warmth through your body. 

And then he began to thrust in and out, pushing up to sink into you. "Fuck...fuck, you're tight," Jace growled. Your loose hair cascaded down either side of your face, tickling his cheeks, and he caught it in a messy bun to hold it behind your head. 

You could feel the same pleasure as before building up in your lower abdomen. 

Gods, you could feel him so intensely. So deeply too. Bouncing rhythmically against that particular part of you. 

You buried your head in his neck, his woody scent filling your nostrils.

It was primal. Animal, between the two of you. All that mattered was the here and now. Your body against his, the sweat beading between you, the moans filling the room.

Jace tugged at your hair, causing you to throw your head back, freeing access to your chest, and he straightened up into a sitting position, his member still deep inside you, to find your breast. He buried his face in it and your hand instinctively found the back of his head to stroke his hair. Jace's lips traced a trail of kisses down the valley between your breasts, following the curve of your flesh before closing around your nipple, which he sucked gently. One of his arms wrapped around you to hold you tight against him, his other hand resting on the breast he wasn't devouring.

You stayed like that for a while, your legs on either side of him, his mouth seeking solace in your breasts, the divine sensation of being full, with him inside you, in the softness of the night, the flames rocking your lovemaking.

One of Jace's arms finally found your back and in one swift movement he reversed position. He desperately needed more, sensing that he wouldn't last long. 

He pinned you beneath him, against the mattress, your legs immediately closing around him and the pace quickened.  His thrusts became more messy, more sloppy because of your two combined essences.  "You're mine, now" he grunted, and you shivered. His index and middle fingers wandered between your folds, caressing the spot where you were joined before moving to the pearl hidden at the top of your slit. "Am I?" you replied teasingly. You could feel him throbbing inside you. "Then be a good boy now and give muña your seed."

That was the spark that ignited the fire. Jace quickened the rhythm of his hips, his fingers still buried between your folds, his movements erratic. With each of his thrusts, you felt his member hitting that sensitive spot against your spongy inner walls. You tensed and for the second time that evening, your release flooded your entire body.  You were followed by your nephew as Jace spilled into you, his seed painting white ropes against your womb.

He lay still inside you for a moment, his cock softening as you both caught your breath, your hands in his dark curls, his head at the nape of your neck. 

You winced as he withdrew from your still sensitive core, his now cold seed flowing between your thighs. Jace dropped down beside you, satisfied. Then you turned to him. You grabbed his wrist one last time and guided his fingers to your centre, where your folds were smeared with the remnants of your lovemaking.

"Look how much you've left inside me," you whispered into his ear, making Jace collect his own seed on his fingertips and push it back into you. "I'm going to keep it all inside me, would you like that, sweet boy?" you whispered again.

And Jace pulled you against him to kiss you, his member stirring between his thighs, against you. It was true that he'd given you the upper hand this time. But he was ready to show you what he could do. You snuggled up against his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

"Perhaps…We should bring the wedding date forward."

And he smiled.

[lizzyiii]

Hello, I would like to make an obscene yandere request to Aemond Targaryen for a cousin who is a Helen of Troy, she never met her cousins ​​and Gwayne locked her in the lighthouse because the children in Antigua have already declared duels and fights for her, please

“Alexa play Angel by Massive Attack.”

A Beauty Too Tempting

pairing | aemond x cousin!reader word count | 5.4k summary | when aemond targaryen learns of his cousin—a beauty so captivating that men are willing to die for you—he becomes dangerously obsessed, determined to claim you for himself. tags | 18+ MDNI! smut, p in v, slight dubcon, fingering, oral sex (f) receiving, possessive sex, rough sex, virginity kink, breeding kink, obsession, dirty talk, no description for reader, creampie, religious guilt, guys this was crazzzyyy, yandere aemond, delusional aemond, obsessive aemond. a/n | this was such an interesting and creative prompt, damnnnn. also I think this might be the best smut I've ever written. KEEP BOTH HANDS ON THE PHONE (NOT PROOFREAD)

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Aemond had finally ascended.

His reckless, wine-soaked brother was a shadow of the past, burnt and broken beyond repair. Though the Seven Kingdoms still called him “Prince Regent,” Aemond knew he held the true power of a king—and wielded the might of a dragon unmatched in all the realm.

He was Prince Regent, yes, but also the rider of Vhagar, the Queen of Dragons, the slayer of Daemon Targaryen, the butcher of his treacherous half-sister and her rabble of bastards.

At God’s Eye, he had cast Daemon down, wresting from him the title of warrior to which he clung so stubbornly. And when Alys Strong’s deceit led him astray, she too had met the edge of his blade, her charms and false promises extinguished in the cold stone of Harrenhal’s dungeons. Now, what was left of his family was but the bones of the house.

Only his mother and his niece remained, the ones bound by duty and blood. Helaena, broken by grief and driven mad with sorrow, had thrown herself from her chamber balcony, finding an end that her shattered mind had long sought. Aegon, the crown’s fool, lay in a stupor of smoke and agony, burned and nearly lifeless after his fall from Moondancer’s flames.

But Aemond ruled now—his alone was the realm’s rightful power. The Seven Kingdoms were his to bend, as was his every desire. He had broken his betrothal to the Baratheon girl without a second thought; a warlord and dragonrider of his stature deserved a bride worthy of his legend. He was the last dragon of House Targaryen, and his queen would be a beauty revered, one whose grace and purity might rival the Maiden herself.

And that was when Aemond first heard of you.

Fleeting whispers had reached him from Oldtown, speaking of his uncle Gwayne’s daughter—a maiden so beautiful that men spoke of you as if you were touched by the gods. Tales claimed you had been cloistered away in the Watchtower’s highest chamber, veiled to protect the eyes and sanity of any man who caught sight of you.

There, concealed behind shadows and stone, you were kept far from the reach of suitors who risked life and honor in duels, each vying for even a single glimpse of your face.

Your father, Ser Gwayne Hightower, had fallen in the fires of the Dance, and your mother had died bearing you, leaving you alone in that desolate tower—an unclaimed jewel, hidden and waiting.

The thought stirred something fierce within Aemond. He would go to you, he decided. He would see this beauty so lauded, this Hightower daughter untouched by the world’s corruptions, and he would decide if you were worthy to become his Queen, his Targaryen bride. For if your beauty proved true, you would belong to him alone, bound by devotion and a loyalty owed only to the dragon and its rider.

After landing Vhagar just outside Oldtown, Aemond took a horse into the city, riding with the air of a conqueror. But even he was taken aback by the scene awaiting him. High walls surrounded the Watchtower of House Hightower, fortified and stern, yet it was the gathering outside that seized his attention.

Hundreds of men crowded the courtyard and spilled into the streets, shouting, some nearly brawling as they jostled against one another. Their voices rose in a fervent cacophony, names and cries echoing like a battle chant.

Aemond’s gaze swept over them with disdain. Fools, all of them, clamoring over the mere hope of being in your presence. As he approached the Tower’s gates, the guards lowered their spears and bowed their heads, recognizing the rider of Vhagar, the One-Eyed Prince who now held the realm in his grip.

They opened the gates without question, allowing him through to the Tower’s base, where a young servant girl waited nervously.

She kept her eyes down as she led him up the spiraling stairway to the highest chamber. But Aemond’s curiosity simmered, and his tone was sharp when he finally spoke. “Who are these men gathered outside? What madness drives them to swarm like starving wolves?”

The servant’s face went pale, but she dared to glance up briefly, voice trembling. “They’re suitors, my prince…men from every corner of the realm. Many have traveled from the Reach and the Riverlands, even as far as Dorne and the North, all to seek my lady’s hand.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, a dark satisfaction curling at the edge of his lips. While the Dance Of Dragons had gone on, you had become something of a legend—a prize for fools and hopeful knights. But you were not for them.

“Let them scream themselves hoarse,” he murmured coldly, mostly to himself, as they reached the final stretch of the climb. His voice softened, though the weight of his words was fierce. “By nightfall, they will know she belongs to me alone.”

The servant kept her gaze down, fearful of the silent promises in his tone. They finally reached the door to the high chamber, and with a deep breath, she pushed it open, bowing as he strode past her.

As Aemond stepped inside, the air was thick with expectation, and he knew: he would let none of those suitors have you—not while he still breathed.

A figure stood near the narrow window, framed by the dim light filtering through the high stone walls. Draped in a gown as pale as starlight, a delicate veil fell over your hair and face, obscuring your features with an ethereal softness.

You looked less like a woman of flesh and blood, more like some forgotten goddess cast down from the heavens, your beauty hidden behind gauze and shadow. Almost nervously, the servant girl who had led Aemond withdrew, sparing one last, uncertain glance before closing the heavy door, leaving him alone with the lady in white.

The room was silent but for the faint rustle of fabric as the veiled woman turned, your movements graceful yet guarded. You saw him—a tall, imposing figure shrouded in the black and crimson of House Targaryen, his silver hair gleaming like the steel at his hip.

Though your vision was blurred by the veil, there was no mistaking him. Even in the isolated walls of your tower, you had heard tales of him, whispered rumors that crept into your dreams. Aemond Targaryen—the One-Eyed Kinslayer, the dragonrider who had torn through his own blood, leaving most of House Targaryen ashes in his wake.

A shiver coursed through you as you lowered your head, barely daring to meet his single, penetrating gaze. You bent your head respectfully and murmured, “Your grace.”

At the sound of your voice—soft and lilting, as if it had drifted down from the heavens—Aemond’s breath hitched, and he paused, his gaze never wavering. You sounded like the very embodiment of the myths that had reached him, a voice so pure it defied the violence that had carved his path to you.

He took slow, deliberate steps toward you, each one bringing him closer to the veiled creature he had come to claim. “I am not only your Prince Regent,” he said, his voice low, almost reverent. “I am your kin as well.”

You nodded, your lashes fluttering beneath the veil. “Of course…cousin,” you replied shyly, your voice no more than a murmur, though it reached him clearly in the silence of the chamber.

Aemond’s lips curved, a hint of satisfaction flickering across his face as he closed the distance between you. “You must know,” he continued, his tone possessive yet calm, “that I have not come all this way merely out of kinship. You are spoken of as if you were a queen in waiting…your beauty, your grace. Men would kill for a single look upon your face.”

Your cheeks warmed beneath the veil, though you dared not lift your head. The idea of such fierce, consuming attention unsettled you, yet you could not deny the pull he exerted on your senses—a dark, magnetic power that seemed to draw you closer, even as your instinct told you to step back.

“And now,” Aemond murmured, lifting a hand toward you, fingers ghosting over the edge of your veil, “it is I who have come to see if these tales hold truth. To decide if you are worthy…to stand beside me as my queen.” He let the words hang in the air, laden with meaning, with possession.

Beneath the veil, your lips parted, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The One-Eyed Prince had not come to court or woo you like the other men clamoring below; he had come to claim you, with a certainty that brooked no refusal.

“Tell me, cousin,” he whispered, his tone heavy with dark intent, a veiled promise lying beneath each word. “Would you defy me if I named you mine?”

He drew closer, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a shiver through you as your heart hammered against your ribs. The weight of his claim felt as tangible as the stone walls around you, and in that instant, you knew defiance was a luxury that held no place here.

Before you could gather the breath to respond, Aemond’s hand rose toward your veil, his fingertips hovering just above its delicate fabric. A sense of desperation seized you, and your voice broke through the silence, raw and pleading. “Don’t! Please… I only wish to spare you.”

Aemond’s lips curved in a faint, humorless chuckle, his eye gleaming with something far more dangerous than mere amusement. “Spare me?” he murmured, as though the very idea amused him.

“You misunderstand, cousin. I do not seek to be saved.” His voice softened, yet the iron in his tone was unmistakable. “I seek only to behold my future wife.”

Your heart raced, every instinct urging you to step back, but your body seemed to betray you, rooted to the spot as Aemond reached out, his fingers grazing the edge of your veil. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted it, casting the thin fabric away and laying bare the face that had haunted his imagination.

The moment the veil fell, silence claimed the room, broken only by Aemond’s sharp intake of breath. His gaze devoured each feature of your face, sweeping over you with an intensity that bordered on reverence, as if he were drinking in the sight of a rare and coveted treasure.

He exhaled slowly, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his fingers traced a line along your cheek, his touch both possessive and tender. “Beautiful…” he breathed, his voice thick with awe and something deeper, something darker. “Far more than any tale could capture. You are… a vision.”

A flicker of fear mingled with the warmth on your cheeks, and you dared to lift your gaze to his, the intensity of his stare almost unbearable. He studied you, and you sensed it was not mere admiration that darkened his eye, but hunger—a need so consuming it seemed to radiate from him.

“From this day forward,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the line of your jaw, “you are mine. And I… I will allow no one, not even the gods, to take you from me.”

Your breath caught as Aemond’s fingers ghosted over your skin, sparking a fire that seemed to radiate through every inch of you. For a fleeting moment, your eyelids fluttered closed, helplessly savoring the sensation. But reality, sharp and undeniable, tore them open again, reminding you where you stood—and with whom.

“C-Cousin, please…” you murmured, your voice trembling as your hands pressed against the hard plane of his chest, a fragile attempt to create space. “This… this cannot be. You should not…”

The words stumbled from your lips, half-hearted at best, even as your body betrayed you, arching subtly toward him, drawn like steel to a magnet. A flush of warmth rose beneath your skin, pooling in your cheeks, and beneath the thin fabric of your gown, your nipples peaked, aching under his gaze. The rush of sensations nearly overwhelmed you, each one more intoxicating than the last.

Aemond’s lips curved in a knowing, wicked smile, his eye gleaming as he took in your struggle, your futile attempts at resistance. He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, so close that his breath mingled with yours, warm and heady.

“Wrong?” he murmured, his voice a dark, velvet caress, each syllable dripping with unrestrained desire. “There is no wrong between us, cousin. Only what was always meant to be…only fate and desire.”

Your heart raced, pounding against his chest, each beat echoing the dangerous thrill of his words. His hand slipped to the nape of your neck, his touch firm and possessive, as though he could bind you to him with that single gesture. He tilted your head ever so slightly, his mouth hovering just above yours, his gaze burning with intent.

“We are bound by blood,” he whispered, his words low and fervent, “by something far stronger than any foolish notion of right or wrong.” His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, a featherlight touch that set your skin alight. “Do you not feel it, the way I do?”

You barely managed a nod, your mind clouded by the closeness, by the undeniable pull of him. With a fluid, almost predatory grace, Aemond’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, so close you could feel every contour of his lean frame pressing into yours.

His chest was a wall of heat, solid beneath your touch, and your breath hitched as you became all too aware of the hardness pressing insistently against your belly.

“Let me guide you,” he whispered, his mouth brushing the shell of your ear, his breath warm and laced with promise, “to pleasures beyond the realm of mortal imagination.” His voice was low, dark, each word dripping with seduction as he continued, “Yield to me, and I shall make you mine in ways the world could scarcely comprehend.”

Every syllable curled around you, dissolving your remaining resistance like morning mist. Against all sense, your body softened, your resolve unraveling beneath his spell. Aemond’s words, woven with desire and power, coaxed you toward surrender. You melted against him, instinctively seeking the warmth he offered, your heart racing as his grip on you tightened possessively.

“Cousin…” you whispered, barely a breath, a mingling of plea and prayer.

Aemond’s lips curved, and he let out a soft, almost condescending click of his tongue, a smirk flickering in his eye. “I ask for so little,” he said, his tone deceptively light before his voice softened, becoming tender, almost reverent.

“Simply allow me to reign over you, to be the master of your heart and soul. Give me your loyalty, your love, your fear… let me own you in spirit and in flesh. Do that,” he murmured, his mouth grazing your jawline, “and I will serve you, worship you, slave to your every desire.”

A tremor ran through you as his hand drifted lower, fingers grazing the swell of your breast. Your nipple pebbled instantly, a jolt of pleasure-pain shooting straight to your core. You gasped, your hips involuntarily rolling against his straining erection.

“Please... ” you whimpered, your resistance breaking in the face of such carnal temptation. ”I-I am a maiden, a child of the Seven.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Aemond's chest as he felt your delicate form yield to his touch, your body betraying its innate desire despite your protests. His fingers curled around the plump mound of your breast, kneading the soft flesh through the thin fabric of your gown.

“Child no longer,” he rasped, his thumb circling your aching nipple, coaxing it to an even harder peak. ”Maidenhood ends today, and a woman shall be born.”

With a swift tug, he ripped the laces of the front of your gown, exposing the swells of your breasts to his hungry gaze. He palmed them roughly, thumbs teasing the stiff peaks as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, plundering the sweetness within with his tongue.

"Mine," he growled against your lips, his hands roaming your body possessively

Your cry of shock morphed into a moan of ecstasy as Aemond's mouth ravaged yours, his dominant presence swallowing your very essence. The rough handling of your breasts sent sparks of delight coursing through your veins, your nipples throbbing in time with the pounding of your heart.

"No...no," you breathed against his lips, the words tumbling out unbidden. "This is wrong... this is sinful."

Ignoring your feeble protests, Aemond continued to explore your body with unrestrained lust. His hands roamed freely over your curves, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence usually reserved for sacred texts.

“Sinful indeed,” his voice was a husky purr against your lips. “Yet how sweetly addictive it tastes.”

His hands trailed lower, bunching your skirts to your waist to find the damp curls at the apex of your thighs. He groaned at the wetness he found there, a testament to your body's readiness for him.

“Such a delectable little cunt...” he whispered, his fingers slipping between your folds to test your readiness.

Your head fell back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat as Aemond's skilled fingers delved deeper, stroking your slickened flesh with a confident touch. A shudder rippled through you, your hips canting upwards in desperate pursuit of more.

“P-please...” you gasped, your voice trembling with devastation. “I...I've never...”

Aemond's knowing smirk only heightened your mortification, yet it couldn't quell the inferno building inside you. Your body was aflame, craving the release only he could provide.

“I'm afraid...” you murmured though your eyes were glazed with desire.

Aemond's eye gleamed with triumph as he watched you squirm under his touch, your innocence and inexperience only fueling his desire. He pressed a finger inside you, feeling your tight walls clench around the invading digit.

“Fear not, sweet cousin,” he cooed, his voice dripping with false reassurance. “I will be gentle... at first.”

He pumped his finger slowly, savoring the exquisite sensation of your virgin passage yielding to his touch. His thumb circled your pearl, applying just enough pressure to send jolts of pleasure racing through your nerves.

“You're doing wonderfully,” he praised, his free hand sliding up your thigh to grip your hip firmly. “Now, let's see if we can't coax out that pretty little scream, hmm?”

Your mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the onslaught of sensations assaulting your senses. Aemond's fingers moved within you with a practiced ease, each thrust and twist sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“N-no...stop!” you managed to choke out, even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch. “It's too much!”

Aemond's grin widened, his eye flashing with dark amusement at your futile attempts to resist. He withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching for more.

“Foolish girl,” he chided, his tone dripping with condescension. ”You crave this, every bit of it. Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind doesn't.”

He seized your wrists, pinning them above your head against the window as he loomed over you, his face inches from yours. His hot breath fanned across your cheeks, carrying the scent of smoke and masculine musk.

“Now, be a good little maiden and spread your legs for me,” he commanded, his voice low and commanding. “Let me taste you.”

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body thrumming with a mix of fear and exhilaration as Aemond's dominance asserted itself. Despite your reservations, a traitorous part of you yearned for the promised pleasure, your core clenching in anticipation.

"N-no...I won't...” you stammered, even as your thighs trembled, betraying your resolve. Aemond's grip on your wrists tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he forced you to submit.

“Please...” the word escaped your lips before you could stop it, a plea for mercy that sounded suspiciously like a plea for more, though confusion filled you, ”Why would you wish to taste me?”

Aemond's gaze raked over your trembling form, drinking in every quiver and gasp with sadistic delight. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his words dripping with dark promise.

"Because, my dear cousin," he purred, "I want to devour every inch of you until you forget your own name. Until all you know is my touch, my taste, my possession."

With a wicked grin, he released your wrists, only to grab your waist and throw you down upon your bed. You had no time to react before he settled between your legs, his shoulders pushing your thighs apart as he lowered his head, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh.

Your heart raced, pounding in your ears as Aemond's words painted a vivid picture of degradation and desire. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at his mercy as he positioned himself between your spread thighs.

“And then, once I've had my fill,” he continued, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your slit, “I'll make you beg for more.”

“No...please...” your protests dissolved into a whimper as his tongue made contact with your aching sex, the wet heat of it sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Aemond chuckled darkly at your feeble attempts to resist, the vibrations of his laughter sending shivers through your core. He increased the pressure of his tongue, lapping at your slick folds with relish, savoring the taste of your arousal.

“It's too much...I c-can't take it...” even as you spoke, your hips bucked upward, seeking more of that intoxicating sensation. Your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer, to grind yourself against his questing mouth.

“You lie, sweet cousin,” he murmured against your flesh, his voice muffled but unmistakable. “You crave this, crave me. Your body sings for me, begs for my touch.”

He sucked gently on your pearl, the suction pulling a sharp cry from your lips. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he feasted on your cunt, his skillful tongue driving you closer to the edge with each passing moment.

“Release for me,” he commanded, his eye locking onto yours, burning with an intense, possessive hunger. “Let go and give me everything.”

Your entire being was consumed by the inferno of pleasure that Aemond ignited within you. His words, his touch, his very presence overwhelmed your senses until nothing existed beyond the coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter in your core.

“Ahh...oh gods...Aemond!” your cries echoed off the stone walls as you said his name for the first time and he pushed you relentlessly towards your peak. Your back arched off the bed, your nails raking down his scalp as you held him close, grinding shamelessly against his face.

“Yes...yes! Don't stop...please don't stop...” you babbled incoherently, lost to the maelstrom of sensation. And then, with a final flick of his tongue, you shattered, your release ripping through you with the force of a tidal wave.

As your climax crashed over you, Aemond drank in your essence, reveling in the taste of your release. He lapped at your spasming cunt, prolonging your pleasure until you finally went limp beneath him, panting and dazed.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction as he gazed up at your flushed face. He crawled up your body, claiming your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to plunder the sweetness of your mouth.

“Now, let us see how well you respond to other pleasures,” he murmured against your lips, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple into a stiff peak. “We have only just begun to explore the depths of your devotion.”

Your mind reeled, struggling to process the intensity of what had just transpired. Aemond's control over your body was absolute, leaving you weak and pliant in his grasp. Yet even as you trembled with aftershocks of pleasure, a thrill of anticipation coursed through you at his words.

“Other pleasure?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the fear that lingered, a spark of curiosity ignited within you, drawing you deeper into the unknown realm Aemond promised to show you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your breasts heaving with each ragged breath as he fondled them. The sensation of his calloused palm against your tender flesh sent jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core, making you ache for more.

Aemond's smile was a wicked curve of his lips as he watched your reaction, delighting in the way your body responded to his touch.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I speak of the exquisite agonies of pleasure, cousin. The kind that make you scream and beg for mercy even as you crave more. The sort that leave you trembling and spent, yet yearning for the next touch, the next thrust...”

His hand slid lower, fingers tracing the juncture of your thighs before dipping into your drenched folds. He circled your sensitive pearl, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

“Shall I show you these delights, Beloved? Shall I push you to the very brink of madness and back again, all for my own entertainment?”

A shiver ran down your spine at Aemond's words, a delicious chill that mixed with the heat building inside you. His touch was both gentle and ruthless, coaxing out responses you didn't know you possessed. Your hips bucked involuntarily as he stroked your most intimate places, seeking more friction and relief.

“Y-yes please...” you breathed, the word torn from you on a moan. Your hands came up to tangle in his long silver hair, holding him close as if to anchor yourself against the storm of sensations he unleashed.

Aemond's fingers danced across your sensitive flesh, pushing you higher and higher until you teetered on the edge of another release. Your vision blurred, your lungs burned for air, and still he teased, denying you the release you craved.

“Please...I need more,” you whined.

Aemond chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending vibrations through your quivering form. He released your pearl, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh before gripping your hip possessively.

“More, hmm?”

He leaned back, his piercing gaze drinking in every flush of color on your skin, every hitch of your breath. “Very well, cousin. Let us see how you fare against my cock.”

With a swift motion, he shed his trousers, freeing his rigid length. It stood proud and unyielding, the tip already glistening with pearly wetness. Aemond grasped your ankles, spreading your legs wide as he positioned himself between them.

Your eyes widened as Aemond revealed his manhood, the sight of it making your mouth go dry. The size and shape were intimidating, but a part of you thrilled at the prospect of being stretched so completely. You nodded, unable to find your voice as he spread your legs wider, exposing you fully to his hungry gaze.

“Are you ready to be filled, to be claimed in the most primal way possible?” He asked, his voice a husky growl.

"Yes...” you managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

Aemond's grip on your ankles tightened as he aligned himself with your entrance. The head of his cock pressed against your slick folds, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for the intrusion.

“Please don't hurt me,” you whispered, your voice tinged with desperation.

Aemond's expression softened slightly at your plea, though the intent in his eye remained unchanged - a fierce, almost feral hunger. He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “I would never harm you, sweetling," he paused, "at least not unless you begged me to."

With that, he surged forward, his thick cock driving into your welcoming heat in one powerful stroke. Your cry echoed through the chamber as you were split open around him, your body stretching to accommodate his impressive girth.

“Fuck, you're tight,” he groaned, pausing for a moment to let her adjust. His hips flexed, pulling nearly all the way out before plunging back in, setting a relentless pace. So fucking perfect...

A sharp cry tore from your throat as Aemond's massive cock impaled you, the sudden invasion sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your core. You arched your back, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move within you, each thrust driving deeper and harder than the last.

"Gods...it's too much..." you panted, struggling to breathe through the intensity of the sensation. “You're so big...”

Despite the discomfort, your body seemed to mold itself to his, craving the stretch and fullness he provided. Your inner walls clenched around him, trying to draw him in even further.

“More...give me more...” you whimpered, your hips rising to meet his punishing rhythm.

Aemond grunted in satisfaction at your wanton pleas, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The obscene slap of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by your keening cries.

“That's it, take it all,” he growled, his hand fisting in your hair as he angled your head back. “Scream for me, let everyone hear how thoroughly I'm claiming you.”

His free hand slid between your joined bodies, finding your swollen pearl and rubbing mercilessly. The dual stimulation had you writhing beneath him, your body wound tighter than a bowstring.

"Come for me, Beloved,” Aemond demanded, his voice rough with lust. “Come on my cock like the desperate little maiden you are.”

The words fell from Aemond's lips like honeyed poison, stoking the flames of your desire until they consumed you whole. Your release crashed over you like a tidal wave, your vision blurring at the edges as ecstasy coursed through your veins.

“Yes! Oh gods, yes!” you screamed, your voice echoing off the stone walls.

Your inner muscles spasmed wildly around Aemond's pistoning cock, milking him for all he was worth. The pressure building at the base of your spine reached a fever pitch before exploding outward in a burst of pure bliss.

“Aemond!” your name was a ragged gasp as you convulsed beneath him, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

Aemond threw his head back with a triumphant roar as your orgasm triggered his own. His cock pulsed inside you, spilling his hot seed deep into your clencing cunt. Each jet seemed to last an eternity, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

“Take it all,” he snarled, grinding his pelvis against yours to ensure every drop was absorbed by your eager flesh. “You're mine now, forever and always.”

As the final spurts subsided, Aemond collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily as he savored the aftermath of their coupling.

When Aemond's release flooded your womb, you felt a sense of profound completion wash over you. Your body went limp beneath him, utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.

“Yours...” you echoed softly, the word falling from your kiss-swollen lips in a daze. “Forever and always...”

As exhaustion tugged at you, your limbs grew heavy, and the events of the day settled over you like a warm, thick blanket. Nestled in Aemond’s arms, you felt a strange comfort, a warmth you’d scarcely known, drawing you closer into his embrace as sleep beckoned. The solid strength of him, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was all that held you tethered as your eyes drifted shut.

“Rest now, my love,” he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rasp, laced with a possessiveness that left no doubt of his intentions. “We have much to discuss when you’ve recovered.”

Even as you slipped into the gentle embrace of sleep, Aemond remained vigilant, his gaze never leaving you. His mind churned with plans and possibilities, already anticipating the obstacles that lay ahead. He knew that securing his claim upon you—upon both of you—would not come easily.

His arm tightened around you, a silent vow to protect, to possess, to keep you from any force that might try to tear you from him. Whatever it took, no matter the cost, you would remain his. He would allow no other fate.

A faint, triumphant smile touched his lips as he studied your sleeping face, taking in the softness of your features, the way your hair curled against your cheek. Tonight, he would let himself bask in the satisfaction of knowing you were his, that he had claimed your body and heart as surely as he had marked it.

“Sleep well, my queen,” he whispered, reaching out to brush a stray curl from your brow with uncharacteristic gentleness. His thumb lingered a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek, committing every detail to memory.

“Tomorrow, I take you to your new home.”

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

[youraverageaemondsimp]

A brother's duty. // Husband!Aegon ii Targaryen x Wife!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: Aegon seemed to have noticed how much his younger brother, Aemond, fancies you, as a self proclaimed caring older brother, he decides to fulfill that role by giving Aemond what he wants, which is you.

WARNINGS: afab!fem!reader, dubious consent, threesome, m/m/f, dacryphilia, rough sex, manhandling, slight humiliation, degrading, double penetration, mentions of infidelity (aegon visiting brothels), slight misogyny, breeding kink, tiddy sucking, oral (f. receiving, m. receiving), pussy drunk aemond, lactation kink, cum eating, anal sex, lmk if I missed any! + not proofread.

WC: 4.7k

A brother's betrayal. - can be read as p2

A/N: the anal sex in this isn't "realistic" aka no prior preparation so please don't come at me and go ''that isn't how anal sex works 😡😡😡 you have to do blah blah blah'' ik but this is just a work of fiction so pls just enjoy it // divider credits: @cafekitsune

“Aemond, do you perhaps fancy my wife?” Aegon tilts his head to the side, questioning his brother as they sit together in the library, quietly reading, of course, until the short pale haired man decided to break the silence.

“Brother, this is no place for such discussions.” Aemond tries dodging the question, but Aegon simply rolls his eyes grunting loudly in displeasure, “Just answer the question.” Aegon says annoyed and Aemond pursues his lip, lost deep in thought.

“What if I say ‘yes’?” Aemond asks, “Then I'd have your head for that.” Aegon smiles which makes Aemond shift uncomfortably in his seat, “Come on! I was kidding, do you really think I'd kill my own blood-related brother over a woman?” Aegon laughs loudly and Aemond sighs but he furrows his brows, “She is your wife.” Aemond states sternly, but Aegon shrugs, “And you are my brother.” He replies.

Aemond lets out another heavy sigh, hoping that he'd escape this situation he'd somehow gotten into, “So?” Aegon pushes further, poking at Aemond to answer the question and Aemond hums in irritance before being fed up and answering Aegon's question. “Yes, I do fancy your wife.” He admits, slightly ashamed.

Aemond was a man of the faith, believing in the faith of the seven, and according to the scripture, desiring a woman is a carnal sin, diabolical if she's a married woman, abysmal if she's your own brother's wife.

But Aemond couldn't help it, it's as if though the gods were testing him, not only were you pleasant on the eye but you were also very polite and had the same interests as him, and most probably the only woman — besides his sister — who was not disgusted after seeing his injury.

He knew he had to stop developing an interest towards you once he found out that you were being married to Aegon, but for some inexplicable reason; that only made him want you more, perhaps it was the label of you being ‘forbidden’ that enticed him further, making him yearn to get the taste of the forbidden fruit more than ever.

How he had wished that it was him instead, the one getting married to you, he wished it was he who fucked you, he wished it was him who got you pregnant, he wished it was his babe you waddled all around the red keep with, he wished it was his child that you had given birth to.

But those were nothing more than just wishes, wishes that would never come true, unless a miracle happens.

“That wasn't hard now was it?” Aegon's voice snaps Aemond out of his train of thoughts and Aemond simply hums, “Why did you ask such a question?” Aemond inquires curiously and Aegon smirks at him, “I may not be sober most of the time but the way you stare at her doesn't go unnoticed, your desire burns deep for her doesn't it? I've especially taken note of it when she was pregnant with my child, your eye never left her womb.” He answers and Aemond rolls his eye.

The atmosphere is filled with silence once again as Aemond continues to silently read his book.

“I would've let you fuck her if you had asked me to.” that statement which left Aegon's mouth made Aemond choke on his spit as he stared at him wide eyed, shocked at what he had just said, “Pardon?” Aemond gazes at Aegon confusedly, and Aegon gets a thrill out of this, watching his brother be flustered.

“I said what I said, you could've just told me so, you're my brother Aemond, how do you think I will ever turn any of your requests down?” Aegon says it so casually, as if he was giving an item that belonged to him which Aemond had always wanted so badly, except you weren't an item or an object.

Aemond remains silent, unable to talk because of how baffled he was, but Aegon pressed on, “Don't you wanna feel her cunt around your cock?” This makes Aemond slam his book down and get up, and Aegon raises his hands in surrender, “It was merely an offer, I wouldn't mind sharing her with you, we've shared whores before.” Aegon tries justifying his reasoning and Aemond scoffs, “But she is no whore, she is your wife, you should treat her with respect.” he replies agitated.

“Enough with the sterness, reply plainly, do you want to fuck her or no? I won't ever bring it up ever again if you say no, we'll pretend we never had this conversation.” Aegon sighs before raising his eyebrow.

Aemond swallows thickly, should he take this chance? He always yearned for you so badly, it's like the opportunity presented itself; he could seize it, but he was in a dilemma, not wanting you to face such disrespect, your self respect will be obliterated to pieces, you'd be drowning in self shame.

You were a very dignified lady, a woman who carried herself confidently no matter what, this is why you weren't even affected when Aegon still visited the brothels. As long as the word didn't get out, you were fine with it. You simply did your duty as a wife and a mother. He couldn't imagine you allowing him to fuck you and ruin your honour.

“Decide fast brother, I have to leave soon, it's been a while since I laid with my wife, the maesters had told me to give her a break for a minimum of six weeks, yet eight weeks have passed, my cock craves her cunt so desperately.” Aegon speaks explicitly, and Aemond's breath hitches in his throat, imagining what your cunt would be like. “Then why do you visit the brothels if you seem to like her so much?” He questions, trying to change topics, “That's cause she can't satiate my depravities, otherwise I wouldn't even be visiting those wenches anymore.” Aegon talks as though it was a minor inconvenience.

“Either way, decide quickly.” Aegon urges and Aemond swallows.

He opens his mouths to reject it, but for some odd reasons his mind forms a explicit thought of burying his cock inside your cunt which causes his cock to stir slightly, the blood flowing to it at the mere thought of fucking you.

‘No Aemond, she is your sister in law, your brother's wife, you cannot let this desire succumb you.’

‘But didn't you want this for a long time? Imagine how her cunt would weep when you'd shove your cock into it hm? Her breasts bouncing up and down while you thrust into her.’

He swallows thickly, those internal arguments happening in the span of seconds before he has had enough and made up his mind.

“Yes, I want to fuck her.”

The babe in your arms cooed as you rocked him gently — caressing his chubby cheeks with your thumb as he slowly fell asleep due to your movements, “He's cute isn't he?” You ask the servant that was in charge of him and she nodded, smiling at you.

“Yes princess, the more he grows, the more he resembles his father, Prince Aegon.” She gives her commentary and you give her a small smile and slightly nod your head. The babe finally closes its eyes, going into slumber and you chuckle at his cuteness, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, just then, the door the nursery opens which reveals ser criston cole.

You were confused as to why the kingsguard was here himself, “Prince Aegon has sent me in search for you, he is calling you to his chambers.” Those words were enough to clarify the situation. He wanted to lay with you, “I'll be there in a minute.” you reply and he nods, you give the babe to the servant before smoothening your dress, and leaving the nursery.

You reach your martial chambers quickly, you turn around to thank Cole and dismiss him, you then open the door to the chambers and shut them just as quickly, taking a deep breath before turning around and venturing deeper into the room.

You spot Aegon sitting in his chair, but what was odd was that he was accompanied by Aemond, who you've meet occasionally and had nothing but a positive opinion on about, you were confused on what he was doing here.

Maybe Aegon did not want to lay with you? Maybe Aegon was trying to get closer to his brother for having a bond of a family? You knew how strongly bonded these brothers are, especially since after whatever happened at driftmark, so it wouldn't be weird to assume that Aegon is trying to get you and Aemond to become good friends.

“Ah, wife.” Aegon gets up from his chair, coming over to hug you, and you return it awkwardly, knowing that Aemond is in the same room, Aegon chuckles at your awkwardness. He quickly gets behind you, pushing you forward until you're right in front of Aemond who stares at you from below, all the while Aegon nuzzles his face into your neck.

You're confused not knowing what's happening, “Brother, undo her front laces.” Aegon commands and you furrow your brows immediately, baffled at how Aegon was behaving, perhaps he had drunk too much? You felt bad for Aemond, probably stuck in this unwanted situation, you try to give him an escape route but you are surprised when his warm knuckles graze against your collarbones as his fingers hook underneath your laces, beginning to pull them apart.

You were perplexed by his actions, not knowing what to do, you grip his arm from further undoing the laces but Aegon forcefully pulls your hands back, holding both of them behind you as Aemond pulls off the corset.

You were wearing a dress with no sleeves, but that did not mean you went completely shoulderless, your shift and chemise beneath you acted as the sleeve’s replacement, so when Aemond undoes the laces that were holding your long gown up, it immediately plummets to the floor, leaving you in your chemise.

Aegon nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck from behind, taking in your scent while placing small kisses on your shoulder, still not letting go of your hands, “Darling, I hope you don't mind Aemond joining us today, he had admitted to me that he fancies you, and as his older brother, it is in my responsibility that i take care of my brothers needs.” Aegon coos into your ear and you bite your lip, you are about to respond but you are interrupted by your own gasp when you feel Aemond caress your breasts, squeezing the flesh and playing with them.

“I'm afraid— I don't understand?.” You reply confusedly, staring at Aemond play with the mounds of your breasts, and Aegon chuckles into your ear pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear, “I'm simply allowing him to wet his dick inside your cunt.” Aegon puts it plainly, making you bite your lip in shame; all the while Aemond's hand slowly travels up your thigh, underneath your chemise, before it disappears inside; reaching your core.

You squeal when you feel him pinch your clit before he stroked small circles onto it.

“W-why?” You question, trying to free your hands from Aegon's grip but he doesn't budge, but instead watches with amusement as his brother's hand brings out such reactions from you, you whimper as Aemond's finger travels down your slit and to your opening.

“It's my duty as his older brother.” Aegon replies nonchalantly, Aegon loosens his grip momentarily, changing his grip so he can hold both of your hands in one of his. His free hand lifts your chemise up, as he peeks from over your shoulder to see what his brother's hand was doing to your cunt, he chuckles mockingly when he sees your juices dripping from in between your legs.

“Look at her leaking yeah? Her cunt is literally weeping.” Aegon comments and you clench your eyes shut because of the humiliation you are feeling, your husband is parading you out like a whore for his younger brother, and Aemond— whom you've thought of so highly— is letting this happen while participating in the act.

You gasp when you feel one of Aemond's finger enter you, your walls tightly clamping around his finger which makes him grunt, “Fuck you're squeezing my fingers.” He breathlessly says. Aemond suckles on your neck, biting your sensitive spot which makes you whimper. Aegon finally lets go of your hands and then holds you by your waist before rubbing his cock against your ass.

Aemond's finger trail over the spongy spot inside of you, that makes you let out a moan and he takes note of this and presses against that area that causes you to tremble in pleasure, your hands fly up to his shoulders to balance yourself, though you knew you wouldn't fall, Aegon was holding from behind after all.

You were trapped between these two men, both of them peppering kisses on the opposite sides of your neck making you feel dizzy so you rest your head on Aegon’s shoulder, revealing more of your neck for the men to claim.

Aemond adds another finger inside you, stretching you out whilst providing you pleasure, his fingers skillfully grazing your spongy spot, constantly hitting it with precision.

You didn't even feel your peak approaching; it was ripped out of you so suddenly, you let out a loud moan of Aemond's name, clenching onto his shoulders extremely tightly, tears streaming down your cheeks at the intensity of your peak. Aegon's warm tongue glides over your face, collecting your tears on his tongue and licking at them.

You feel Aemond pull his fingers out of you, and you watch with hooded eyes as he puts them in his mouth, licking your essence up before he hums in delight, before pressing a kiss to your lips, making you taste yourself.

You are surprised when you are pulled away from him by Aegon, he lifts you up hurriedly and carries you over to the bed before harshly throwing you on it, he is quick to undress, taking off his breeches and undergarments, getting completely naked and harshly grabs your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

His hands rip apart your chemise in a hurry, before he forcefully spreads apart your legs and positions himself in between, he gives you no warning before roughly shoving himself inside you, that make you slightly shriek in pain but eventually the pain fades, he moves in and out of you fast paced, ramming into your hole with such an intensity that it has you seeing stars.

“Are you jealous?” Aemond taunts Aegon and Aegon rolls his eyes, “No, I just couldn't hold back anymore, I've missed her cunt so much.” He replies to the taunt and Aemond chuckles, undoing his own breeches, freeing his cock from its confines. “Can I use her mouth?” He asks Aegon and Aegon grunts, “Do whatever the fuck you want with her.” he thrusts brutally into you.

You feel the space next to your head sink and you look over slightly only to be face to face with Aemond's cock, it forms a shadow over your face under the candle lights, you gasp when you see it physically throb. You've never seen that before.

He uses that slight opening as a chance, hooking his thumb in your mouth and spreading your mouth open before pushing his cock inside your mouth, you are taken aback by this and try to pull away but Aemond holds your head in place before shoving himself inside your mouth further, his tip caresses the back of your throat, which makes you gag on his cock, but that only further provides additional pleasure as he groans.

“Seven hells—” Aemond grumbles, his hand hold your hand as he thrusts into your mouth, thumb caressing the outline of his cock that forms in your throat when he pushes as the way, your eyes well up with tears and soon you're panting for air that makes you involuntarily suck on his cock, Aegon's thrusts from downwards make your body jolt upwards, taking more of Aemond's cock.

Aemond suddenly pulls out which makes you suck a sharp breath automatically, “Easy there sweetheart.” Aemond coos and you pant heavily staring at him with doe eyes, “I'll shove it once again alright? Breathe— through your nose— fuckkk.” Aemond instructs as he shoves his dick inside your mouth again, but this time you're prepared so you follow his instructions.

You hollow your cheeks which makes him grunt in satisfaction, “Good girl.” Aemond compliments you, which causes your cunt to clench around Aegon's cock, to which he responds by a chuckle, “Guess she liked that brother, she's squeezing the fuck out of me.” Aegon talks to his brother and Aemond hums in response, Aegon's thrusts speed up, that constantly hit your sweet spot, he bends forwards and takes one of your breast in your mouth, suckling on the nipple and soon– beads of white droplets begin to come out, directly into his mouth that makes him suck more harshly, enjoying the taste of your sweet milk.

“She's lactating? Fuck I wanna have a taste.” Aemond moans, noticing how the milk started to drip from the sides of Aegon's mouth.

Aegon's tip constantly caresses your spongy part, which causes something to tighten in your stomach before it eventually snaps, causing you to cry out in ecstasy and choke on Aemond's dick.

The sensation of your throat tightening around his cock makes Aemond finish as well, he shoots his load down your throat which you have no option but to swallow, and soon— Aegon is finishing inside, painting your inner walls white.

He pulls out immediately after, falling forward onto you and positioning you in such a way that he is able to suckle more, Aemond joins him soon after; shuffling and turning down to take your free breast into his mouth.

You couldn't help but whine as the two brothers suckled on each of your breasts, your recent high made you even more susceptible to sensitivity, yet you couldn't help but caress their heads gently, Aemond clamped his teeth down on to your nipple hardly which made you wince; but he later soothed the area with the wetness of his tongue. Aegon on the other hand was more careful to not graze his teeth against your sensitive buds, only using his tongue and swirling it around your swollen bud.

Aemond let's go with a wet pop, cleaning up the milk and sat up straight before tugging you, this displeased Aegon who wasn't done yet, but he had to let go, Aegon watches as Aemond settles in between your legs before he crawls down, by then Aegon had already caught on to what he was doing, and assisted him by holding you against his chest, your back pressed against him tightly, meanwhile you on the other hand; had no idea what Aemond was about to do.

“Aemond what are you— huh? Ahhh!—” You ended up squealing in surprise when you felt him place his wet tongue on your clit— you tried to shut your legs from the embarrassment but Aegon held them open— so you could only watch helplessly as Aemond gave kitten licks to your clit, which undoubtedly made you feel pleasure.

He licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit before fully engulfing it in his mouth, sucking on the flesh as if he's starving, Aegon's cock is already beginning to harden again as he witnessed such a depraved act.

Aemond groaned when he felt Aegon's seed in his mouth — which he sucked out of you — but he didn't let it stop from devouring you, his tongue licked through your folds before he sucked on your clit and let go of it with a pop before repeating the motion all over again, you unknowingly pushed his face further into your cunt, which made him moan knowing how desperate you were for him, the moan caused additional vibrations which sent pleasure through your body in waves.

You rested your head on Aegon's shoulder as you watched Aemond continue his ministrations, Aegon turned your head slightly before he connected his lips with yours and you moaned into the kiss.

The familiar feeling of the tightness began to form in your stomach again and you break the kiss with Aegon and start to hump Aemond's face involuntarily; trying to just desperately reach your high.

“You're such a fucking whore do you know that? You look so desperate humping your face against his face.” Aegon coos meanly into your ear and you whine, staring at him with teary eyes and he smirks meanly, pulling your hair harshly, “Whore.” He degrades you and your bottom lips tremble as you are about to start crying, but you aren't able to when your peak hits you at the same moment, making you moan in pleasure instead.

Aegon mockingly smiles at you, “Here I thought that you were a prim and proper lady, hell— you don't even let me do these things to you, but maybe my judgement was wrong, maybe you're a whore from the silk street disguised as a lady.” He accuses you meanly, you shake your head no at his accusation while trying to calm down from your high.

Aemond doesn't say anything to that, but simply sits up, and shifts positions once again, pulling you off Aegon and onto his lap instead, you cry onto his shoulders and he simply coos at you, he caresses your hair to calm you down, “Goodness brother, you've made her cry.” Aemond sneers at Aegon who just shrugs his shoulders. “I've only stated what I've observed.” He replies and you whimper.

“All of that aside— do you think she can take us both? In one hole.” Aegon speaks before Aemond could come up with a response and you furrow your brows, and Aemond is lost deep in thought, “We'll have to test it out.” Aemond responds and you push back, immediately staring at him wide eyes but Aemond just pecks your lips.

He lays down, taking you along with him, one hand holding you against him while the other is grabbing your hips and sinking you down on his boner, you bite your lip at the delicious stretch, you're in a position where Aegon can clearly see your pussy stretching around Aemond's cock. Aegon straddles Aemond's knees and lines his cock against your entrance and you turn your head back to see what he was doing, his cock bumped with Aemond's before he found a slight opening to shove his cock into the same hole. “Ah—!” You let out a squeal from pain as you feel his tip intruding and stretching you far than you're capable of taking.

Aegon grows frustrated, not being able to enter his cock fully inside you as your walls clamp down, resisting furthermore intrudence, however that only makes Aemond's pleasure elevate as your walls squeeze him tightly.

“Fuck this, I'm taking her from the rear.” Aegon gives up pushing his cock inside you, you gasp when you feel his thumb poking and pushing inside your puckered hole on your behind. You cover your face with your hands ashamed but Aemond pulls them away before crunching upwards to kiss you on the lips.

Aegon collects your wetness that's dripping from your cunt and smears it on your slightly stretched out hole before doing the same with his cock and lining the tip with the entrance and slowly pushing it inside.

“Ahh— Aegon— wait– I don't think— hgh!” You squeal once his fully settles inside you, and you couldn't help but tremble from the burn of the stretch as he slowly started to move, tears streamed down your face when you felt Aemond move too.

You were feeling highly humiliated, how your dignity has now been sullied, though this encounter wouldn't get out; you knew you wouldn't be able to see Aemond in the same light again, you'd always think about this day whenever you'd encounter him, a dirty little secret you'll have to keep hidden from the realm.

You are pulled from your thoughts with a sharp thrust from both of them penetrating you, you couldn't stop it but moans slipped from your mouth like prayers, you gasped and choked while calling out their names, the position; the act; the pleasure and humiliation you were feeling all combined made you feel hot, and to your horror, the pain began to subside leading you to enjoy this act.

You clinged onto Aemond as the brothers both rammed into you at such a fast pace that made you see stars, you clenched your eyes shut at the new sensations they were making you feel, and soon you're moving in rhythm along with them.

“Fuck fuck fuck I'm gonna cum.” Aegon grunts, his thrusts eventually becoming sloppy, “Me too.” You tell him and Aemond takes that as a cue to thrust faster into you, his hips ramming against you, the sound of flesh slapping rapidly fills the room.

Once again, you're blinded by the pleasure that was ripped from you, you came with a loud moan just as simultaneously as Aegon did, he pulled out and came on your back, he couldn't help but watch in awe as his seed dripped down onto your ass cheeks.

Aemond's pace became slow and messy, indicating that he was near too, “I'm gonna cum inside you, get you pregnant alright? This time you'll carry my child, not Aegon's. I'll make sure of it.” He grunts out mindlessly, pressing you down tightly to his chest, and Aegon just snickers. “Only time will tell, Brother.” Aegon replies snarky.

And with that, Aemond finishes inside you, shooting his seed far up into your walls, and you just nod silently, processing his words, his grip loosens after he finishes you fall off him and onto the bed, and soon Aegon collapses tiredly as well.

You hoped silently, that this would be the last of it, and that you'll not have to do this again, though it was enjoyable— it was humiliating, you were not that kind of lady that indulges in such depravity, maybe you'll be able to forget this and move on as if it never happened.

You prayed to the gods desperately.

But the gods are cruel.

Such encounters became frequent, Aegon and Aemond were enjoying it too much to stop, and soon you eventually got used to the routine, yet you couldn't help but feel guilty when you'd go to the sept with Alicent, when she prays that Aemond can find a good match, when she talks about the proposals that came for Aemond to you, unbeknownst to the fact that her son was constantly fucking you and was way too obsessed with you to let go of you and marry another woman.

He'd began fuck you without Aegon being involved and when you told Aegon about it, he simply shrugged furthermore simply allowing him to do so, telling you that it was his duty as a brother to let Aemond have the things he wants, the very same excuse he used during the first time.

“So, what do you think about Floris Baratheon? Do you think she's a good match for you?” Alicents voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you stare at her, who is addressing Aemond, who seemed to be as disinterested as ever.

“She's decent.” He replies shortly before he turns his gaze to you, and you immediately avoid it, staring at Alicent instead who sighs in annoyance, soon; the feeling of stickiness between your legs—which you've tried to ignore— becomes more imminent the longer he stares at you.

And guilt overwhelms you, you didn't know why you were even joining this meeting with Alicent, you –infact– hated it, knowing that moments prior to this, you were fucking Aemond in the secret hallways of the keep.

And that his seed was currently dripping out of you.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

[thewritetofreespeech]

kinktober: frottage

tags: frottage, making out, secret relationship, targaryen incest [aemond/rhaenyra's daughter], immense pinning by aemond

-------------------------------⚔️--------------------------------

“Where is Aemond?”

“I do not know your grace,” Larys replied. Remaining calm in the Queens frustration. She had been hunting for her middle son for hours, and he was no where to be found. “I have checked with the guards and sentries, and no one has seen him leave by Vahgar or horse.”

“So, he must still be in the city.” Alicent deduced. Hoping he was still in the castle as well. “The conclave starts soon, and we need…a united front for the court.” The plan to weave her family’s place to the crown was to start today. First, but claiming Driftmark back from Rhaenyra's brood. Then, with them illegitimized, start making the case that Aegon should be king. “He knows how important today is. How could he do this to me?!”

“The prince is nothing but a servant to duty.” Larys assured her. He may not see eye-to-eye with the prince, at least with the one he had left, but the Lord did respect that he seemed committed to his family and their goal. “I’m sure he will come out of hiding eventually.”

In a further, deeper part of the castle, indeed hidden away from all those who had not truly explored it, Aemond laid sequestered with his maiden. Marveling at her beauty in the low light between kisses. Beads of sweat forming at the back of his neck from the warmth of the candles in the small space and their hot, panting breath. Bucking against each other with soft gasps & grunts in the nest he had built for them

“We have to go.” His lady insisted. For the umpteenth time, yet neither one of them had made a legitimate effort to move.

“No, no. Not yet.”

Aemond didn’t want to go back to the ‘real world’. A world where his family and hers were fighting. Where the rift between them seemed to grow every day. Separating them. Lines in the sand now a chasm that seemed impossible to overcome.

He also knew what was to happen today to Rhaenyra's bastards, and that she might not forgive him for his part in the plot of disinheriting her brothers. Aemond wanted to stay here a little longer, where she wouldn’t be mad at him.

“People will be looking for us.” She told him as he moved to her neck, which was freely given.

“They’ll never find us.” It had taken him years to find this place and even then it had been difficult to remember where the opening was until he had committed it to memory.

“Oh yes. Because you’re so clever. Ow!” His lady yipped but then moaned when he bit at her neck. A true Targaryen. Wanting a little pain with her pleasure.

“We should just leave and never come back.”

He’d made the offer before. To take their dragons and ride until they reach new land. Conquer it like their ancestors. Build a new kingdom, instead of being stuck in this conflicting one.

Yet, every time, she just laughed it off as a joke like she did now. Not realizing the seriousness of how much he wanted to leave, and never come back, and just be the two of them in the world. “You would miss the tarts too much if we left. Come on. Let’s get going.”

Aemond finally let her go, though disappointed about it, and let her right herself.

In the right light, her mused hair and clothes looked like she had been riding. No one would think where Rhaenyra's Targaryen jewel had truly been. In the arms of her scorned, much less beloved uncle. His cock throbbed in his breeches. Desperate to make her truly his, but he would not take such liberties. Aemond would not tarnish their jewel nor besmirch her honor. He loved her too much for that. That’s why he wanted her to run away with him, so they could be together. Growing up in a world beloved & adored, she does not see that her parents will never allow them to marry. Never allow them to be happy. Their jewel will be given to someone politically inclined to help secure her mother’s place on the throne, and Aemond would be unhappy & unfulfilled.

He would join the Watch before he call anyone but her wife.

Righted and upright, Aemond tucked a lock of silver behind her ear. Marveling at the affection reflected in her eyes. “Will you see me later? After the conclave?”

“Of course.” She told him. Her earnest something he wanted to hold on to. “Here, or somewhere else before dinner?”

“Here.” Where he could pretend. And if he spoke his words sweet enough maybe she would take him up on his offer to finally run away.

They exit their nook and depart. Her back to her family and Aemond to his. His mother found him readily enough, given how frantically at this point she had been looking for him, and asked where he had been.

“Day dreaming.” Was all he told her. It was a peculiarly enough answer that it halted all further questions from his mother and left him to get ready for the meeting.

After today, his daydreams where all he might have left. Let him keep them for a little while longer at least.

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry [3] | Aemond Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: MDNI 18+!! smut, angst!!!!!!, unedited, infidelity, revenge cheating, oral (m receiving), kinda slightttt dub con if you squint w/ Aegon x reader, Aemond is frustrating, so is reader tbh, slight deviation from canon? again, if you squint, soft!aemond if you also squint. But also---angry Aemond (rahhhhhh), tell me if I've missed any warnings!

Author's note: my APOLOGIES on the wait, y'all. Hopefully this scratches an itch!! it's 11PM here, which is the earliest I've ever posted a fic funnily enough. I also reallyyyyy appreciate the love on this series so far!!! Love you all. As always, please don't hesitate to comment or to interact or hmu in my inbox w/ me bc I LOVE yapping with you guys. Send in feedback or criticism (but like I'll cry if it's super mean) or some headcannons!! or even your best dad joke. Anyways, xoxo kisses!!! <3

Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen was an intelligent man. Yet for some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been acting as the realm’s largest imbecile. 

Time and time again, Aemond had let his ego and his pride run ahead of his brain, and had failed to think of the effect that his actions had on people other than himself. Sure, he cared for those who were important to him. His sister, his mother, his grandfather, Ser Cole, Aegon (although Aemond may not have realised it) and even to some extent his wife. 

He realised, perhaps too late, that you may as well be a stranger to him. And at one point, Aemond had truly believed that keeping whatever unlucky woman he was to wed at arms length would be for the best. 

The first time he met you was insignificant. It was as per tradition and formality. Aemond’s interactions up until the wedding was mainly with your family, despite the efforts you made to acquaint yourself with him properly. You were much more timid then, shyer than Aemond had expected from the to-be wife of a weaponised prince. But then again, he had only assumed that a Lady like his mother would have been chosen for him; confident, cunning and strong-headed. 

At the time he had begun to understand you better, Aemond had lost track of himself. A sort of descent into darkness where he went from a young prince to a man, eager to prove himself at whatever cost. Satisfied by the control he gained through fear, strength and reputation. Now that he had stopped to think about his marriage, after you had left him hard and desperate in his own bed, Aemond came to realise a few things. 

You were a purity among the wickedness and politics of the Red Keep. An inherently good person and a woman of grace, kindness and compassion. He had already noticed the dwindling of those traits brought on by your new life, confined to the walls of a fortress that was littered with deceit, distrust and gore. Aemond was a far darker entity than you–he had accepted this fact after the first true conversation you shared. 

Corrupting you was both tempting and terrifying. Aemond had always been loveless–deprived of the affection he craved and deserved but also clueless about how to give that affection. And while he wished he could learn how to right himself and how to quell the carelessness of his temperament and the destruction that was left in its wake, Aemond didn’t know how to. 

Perhaps it would come naturally. He was a lot more open to that notion now, despite the fact that most of him was convinced he was incapable of such change. 

Aemond regretted–something he didn’t feel often–how he had pushed you away. Even if he had not intended to. 

Because now, he was starting to see you as you were. A woman who had far more of an influence over his emotions than he realised–a woman who he had begun to crave the affections of in such an intensity that it only served to scare him away from you. At one stage, you had been another stranger among the walls of his home bound to him in nothing but title but, at some point throughout this ridiculous game that he had stupidly encouraged, Aemond had started to see you as his wife. 

The whore that he had let into his bed was not actually a whore. It was a woman Aemond had known–a witch whom he had shared the pleasures of his body with before the two of you had wed. Alys was always eager for him and once, he would have returned it with his own enthusiasm. Not anymore. She was simply an easier option. A whore would never sully the sanctity of his chambers. It wouldn’t have made a difference if he had been honest and told you that Alys was not from the Street of Silk. 

To anyone who came asking, including you, Aemond would first admit to taking a whore into his bed than a lowly witch.

He cursed himself for letting his honour fall so short that this is what it took for him to wake up. For him to have tainted his loyalty to you, to have let a woman whom he could barely get it up for shatter the confines of his marriage, for him to have been left unwound with a hard cock, his hand and only the scent of you on his thigh to release the tension that was driving him mad. 

Aemond wished he hadn’t been so short sighted. He would subject himself to whatever punishment he deserved should it be the burn of a whip against his back or the sickening ache of starvation if you were to demand it. 

All of a sudden, in the days that had passed since your encounter on his bed, Aemond found himself looking for you throughout his day. He hoped you’d cross each other in the halls, cursed the world for keeping him too busy to spend an afternoon with you in the gardens, sworn at the war that was raging for binding him to his duties and keeping you apart. 

So at the first opportunity he had to take time for himself and for the first time in your short marriage, Aemond had called upon you to join him for afternoon tea.You stared at the young servant who had been sent to retrieve you, half wondering if you had heard the boy incorrectly. Had he called you simply one moon ago, you would have dropped everything you were doing to meet your husband for tea with a grin and a skip in your step at the prospect of finally spending time with him on his own accord. 

But now? It both excited you and infuriated you. 

You gave the boy a soft smile, holding your reserve together when his face dropped at your refusal. “You may tell my husband that I am otherwise attended to for my tea.”

It wasn’t a lie. You had important plans for the afternoon with the other Targaryen son. 

The servant stood still for a moment. “Yes, my Lady.”

“The rest of my afternoon is already engaged with the King,” you purposefully added, a mixture of adrenaline and excitement beginning to simmer in your belly. “Tell him I will take tea with him another time.”

You were walking away from your chambers before the servant had turned to leave. A part of you felt bad for him. Anyone would be wary of delivering rejection to a prince. It felt as if you were sending him to his death in a way, knowing that the seemingly innocent excuse was balancing on a wire that was already frayed. If the young servant had known of your sly plan for revenge, he would have spoiled his breeches. 

There was a chance Aemond would catch on straight away. There was a chance that he would take a little longer. 

Either way, so long as he caught on, everything would unfold in your favor.

Aegon had been waiting for you, a mischievous smile on his lips at the sight of you eagerly rushing towards him. He was an immature and distracted King, and he was definitely not without his flaws, but he had never been bad to you. Sometimes, you even appreciated Aegon’s efforts to involve you in conversation or to pull a smile out of you when you had clearly been distressed. Nonetheless, he was still an infuriating cad and you had often considered giving in to violent urges at the way he treated Helaena. 

Helaena. 

A stab of guilt in your gut at the thought of her. Sure, she had confided in you on numerous occasions and you knew she felt little care for Aegon’s outwards ventures with women but you knew she was saddened by the state of her marriage. And here you were, as wretched as the whore that Aemond had bedded. It was no different; you were doing the same thing as her. Only it wasn’t your job; you weren’t doing it for the money. 

The satisfaction of bringing Aemond down to the same level he had brought you to was all the motivation you needed. It would be treading a thin line but it would be worth it. 

“I had wondered how long it would take you to find yourself in my chambers, Princess,” Aegon’s voice held that boyish shrill he had never grown out of. The way he had stepped aside to let you pass, eyes holding yours through his lashes as he dipped his head with a grin. “For a cup of tea, of course.”

Comparing Aegon’s chambers to Aemond’s was instinctual. It was brighter here, messier and there was an unkempt feel to the furniture despite the servant’s having kept things relatively put together. A King’s chambers, it was; grand and large and adorned with all sorts of artistry. Aemond’s chambers had held a darker tone; presumably because Aemond was sensitive to light on his blind eye and somehow even the glow of light from the lamps were deeper and warmer. 

You liked Aemond’s chambers better. 

“It has been overdue, Your Grace,” you weren’t sure of that. “Thank you for indulging me this afternoon. I wager a King such as yourself is no short of duties to tend to.” 

Aegon scoffed, pouring himself a cup of wine as he watched you take a seat at the small settee from the corner of his eye. “My family seems to be taking care of my duties on my behalf. I am a king in nought but title, you see.”

There was nothing you could say at his unbridled honesty. Aegon was different to most of the people who presided here in that way. He cared little to hide behind a facade of false indifference and stoicism. 

He fell to the cushion beside you, close enough so you could smell the drink he balanced in his hand. Aegon laid back lazily, resting on his elbows and watching you as you sat pin-straight and brought the piping tea to your lips. “‘Tis not a concern. I would much prefer to have more comely company than those clueless cunts who sit on my counsel.”

“I do not doubt that, Your Grace,” you coughed lightly, growing alarmingly aware of the fact that you hadn’t thought about how this was going to play out. There was absolutely nothing that you knew about seducing a king. No less, a king with Aegon’s track record. “I beli-”

“You have been different,” He cut you off. Swiftly pushing himself up so that his face was beside yours, breath tickling the strands of your hair that had fallen loose across your cheek. Aegon’s lips were gently turned up as his eyes traced every curve of your face. 

Swallowing thickly, you will yourself to meet his eye with confidence. The curiosity in his familiar violet eyes was paired with an immature lust and you wondered if he had any idea how easy it could be to use his forward thinking cock against him were you a woman of cunning ambitions. You didn’t miss how his gaze flickered across your throat and towards the curve of your chest. 

But something in the way that Aegon looked at you in that moment, like you were a woman of such beauty that he would risk whatever consequences were sent his way just to feel your touch sent a slither of saddened longing across your chest. Not even your husband had made you feel as if you were so captivating. 

It made the knowledge of how ever long you’d be alone with him far easier to stomach.

“I do not know of what you mean, Your Grace.”

Aegon laughed, bringing his face so close to yours that the point of his nose touched against your cheek. His hand fell to rest flat just above your belly, brazenly close to where your dress tucked underneath the curve of your breasts. 

“I know well when a Lady is not…” he dragged his nose across your soft skin, eyes carefully watching your reaction. “Sufficiently satisfied by her husband.”

Your breath hitched at how quickly Aegon had set his target. “If you mean to-”

“Does my dear brother forego his duties for the comfort of whores, perhaps?”

Pursing your lips, you gently turned your face so that your lips were centimetres away from his, Aegon’s fringe brushing across your forehead. There was a ringing in your ears, a nervousness about how you were so close to betraying your husband and how you were unsure that you could handle the fallout of what was definitely about to happen. Things are much different for women; infidelity and adultery would be grounds for far worse than simply an annulment. This world was not so kind to a lady who partakes in the same treachery as a lord.

Above all, you were conflicted.

“It seems my husband is no different to any other man who does not hunger for his wife.”

“I hunger for his wife,” Aegon all but moaned at the way your lips nudged closer to his. He cocked his head to the side and pressed his fingers into your flesh. “But I am no fool, my Lady. Aemond has always been the sole object of your gaze. You are here for more sinister reasons, I suspect.”

You blinked. Why did these Targaryen princes so often seem to be one step ahead?

It was a relief that he had not moved away from your closeness. In fact, Aegon leaned further into it. His smile never faltered and he waited patiently for you, watching as you thought of your next moves. There was a flush of embarrassment that prettied your skin and it was clear that your facade was close to crumbling. Aegon was not a man you desired in such a way. Merely a means to an end. 

So you sighed, resigning to the fact that being honest with Aegon would be best. 

“You are right,” you muttered. He shook with a silent laugh at your bravery and the way your chin remained turned up. “I-I believe you are aware of my intentions, Your Grace. Will you have me dragged back to Prince Aemond’s feet or will you allow my scheme?”

Aegon was in front of you in a matter of seconds, bending down so that he met your height as you stayed seated. “I would risk meeting the wrath of a man whose temperament and pride are unchained.”

“Teach me how to make it worth it then, my King,” you held strong in forcing the tremble out of your voice. You didn’t want to bed him entirely–absolutely not. Just what you had seen through the gap in Aemond’s door would be more than enough and there was a bubbling gratification in your stomach knowing that Aemond would not be able handle what he had so easily served out. 

His hand held the back of your neck and he jerked forward to catch your lips, grunting when you turned your head from him. You couldn’t kiss him. You weren’t interested in kissing him–only fulfilling the steady thrum of excitement at the need to both experience what you had been teased with and show your husband that he should be sorry. 

In fact, and you were loathsome to even rationalise it, you felt sick at the thought of kissing him. And you felt a little drop in your gut at the thought of taking him in any kind of way but it was different. Less frightening than kissing a man you were trying so hard to convince yourself was sexy enough.

There was no man for your body’s desires aside from Aemond Targaryen-–

A deep breath and you looked at Aegon through your lashes, bringing your fingers to feel the softness of his lips. “I do not want you to fuck me, Your Grace. But show me how I may give you pleasure with my mouth. And how a man can satisfy me with his.”

Aegon became excited at your use of such foul language, his hand remaining behind your neck as he straightened and guided you roughly to his hips, groaning as your hands instinctively found his thighs and moved upwards. He was painfully hard in his breeches–he had been since the first moment you looked at him with that stubborn intent and purpose. 

There was a strong urge to push him away but you fought through it. 

“I am sure your husband is already searching for his brazen little vixen,” Aegon watched as you breathed heavily, your chest heaving and your soft breasts pressing against the tightly laced corset of your dress. “And I am sure you wish for him to find us. Very cunning of you, I must say.” 

His touch didn’t pull that feeling from you. The feeling of Aemond’s touch that had made you feel as if you were floating in lava and drowning in a molten heat that could only be quelled by him. But it made your blood rush down, growing sensitive between your thighs at the prospect of pleasuring a man who openly lusted for you and had no care for hiding it. 

Aegon didn’t care for games that shattered your self-worth. He didn’t care to make you feel lesser than a whore for your curiosity of how it felt to have a man tremble from your mouth. All he wanted was to feed his appetite for you–the beautiful Lady who he had envied his brother for having to himself.

“I want to learn how to do it,” you whispered, melting into Aegon’s guidance as he hastily fiddled with the embellishments on his tunic to undo half of it and push the velvet fabric out of the way. The laced belt at his waist was discarded in seconds and you took little time to pull him out of the confines of his breeches. “So I can–so I can show him.”

There was a certain light headed nervousness that you felt when you realised that you don’t actually know how to do what you wished to. It seemed easy enough when you watched how that woman had given Aemond her mouth but now that you were faced with trying it out yourself, you worried how you would fare. Aegon triggered a natural response from you, one that you had learned was instinctual of human bodies, but you just could not find him desirable. 

Momentarily, you doubted you could find it in you to disregard your aversion to the King. An aversion that suddenly became more pressing an issue than it was merely seconds ago.

Aegon must have noticed your apprehension because he guided you forward, the hardened length of his cock brushing against your face. He was breathing heavily when he spoke. “Lick it. Use your tongue first and then-fuck, that’s right-” you hesitantly followed his instructions, dragging the tip of your tongue across the sides of him, gentle flicks down to the base and then a long stripe up to the top. It was an invigorating thrill when you felt him throb against your mouth. His hips jerked when you hesitantly wrapped your lips around him. 

It was slightly uncomfortable but it was not a bad feeling. Aegon tasted musky and salty, and a little bit sweaty. You took a moment to find the best way to stop your teeth from grazing against him and started to move along him, watching as he threw his head back, eyes shut tightly. 

The image of your husband stayed ingrained in your head. Would Aemond taste the same? Would he feel the same on your tongue? Would his cock react to you in such a way? Would you enjoy taking him in your mouth more than whatever this was?

Shamefully or not, you let yourself pretend that Aegon was not the man standing above you. That it was Aemond instead, enjoying what you were keen to give him and praising you for being so eager to taste him. 

You wished so hard that it was Aemond instead, that for a moment, when you gazed upwards it was him looking down at you with his hair falling perfectly and his eyepatch discarded. Alas, it was King Aegon, who revelled in staring at you with an amusement coupled with bliss that only felt belittling. 

It did set your body into a light rush of arousal but you couldn’t stop the doubts that flooded your mind. Were you dishonouring the sanctity of your body out of spite? Were you betraying the man you almost loved just to have a jab at him? Guilty tickles grew in your ribcage but you distracted yourself from it, focusing on the way that Aegon steered your movements. 

“Shit,” he hissed. Aegon’s hand found the back of your head and he adjusted your pace how he preferred. “Use your hand. What doesn’t fit–hold it.”

It became slightly easier once you found your rhythm, following each instruction that Aegon gave, drinking in the way his thigh trembled under your hand that rested against it, holding yourself stable as you hollowed your cheeks. Whatever you did, it almost came naturally and Aegon seemed to be enjoying it far more than you had expected. 

But it quickly became too much–Aegon started thrusting in a way that didn’t match your movements and you gagged, eyes burning at the ache of him hitting the top of your throat. You made a noise, pulling off and gasping for air, whining as he tugged your mouth back to him and chuckling. Lungs burning, you tried to meet whatever pace Aegon was moving at in an attempt to make things more comfortable. 

You reminded yourself of why you were here. The image of Aemond, head thrown back and groans slipping past his lips as he let that woman take him in his mouth. The image of Aemond, head buried between her legs, the skin on his chin glistening as he smirked at you while pleasure another woman. 

The feeling when your courtly acquaintances who you once thought of as friends would slyly belittle you for failing to give your husband an heir, belittling you because word of his infidelity had reached their gossiping mouths, belittling you because the Prince who they loathed you for having was hardly yours after all. The looks that they had given you, the way that they snickered and sneered at your failures as his wife. Whispers you had overheard from Lords alike; that for such a pretty thing, you must have been dreadfully dull in the ways of pleasure if Prince Aemond of all men had resorted to whores. 

That was how they all saw you; a failure. Because it was never a man’s fault but always his wife’s. 

You loathe to think that Aemond harboured the same thoughts. But you would show him how mistaken he was and make him feel what you had felt so that he would regret it all. 

“Fuck-” Aegon let out a drawn out groan as he pushed your head down, pushing himself as far down your throat as he could. You struggled to breath and you gagged twice but let him move you as he pleased, a satisfactory moan vibrating against his sensitive skin when he threw his head back and grumbled about spilling himself down your throat. 

It was a chaotic moment. 

The protest of the kingsguard through the wall and the bang of the door slamming open and you didn’t even need to turn and look. Aemond was seething, barely given the chance to put the pieces together before Aegon simultaneously groaned and laughed, the salty taste of his seed gliding past a sensitive part of your throat and pulling another gag from you as you yanked yourself away from Aegon. 

Everything seemed to pause for a moment. And despite the obnoxious laughter coming from the King as he tucked himself back into his breeches, the heavy breathing of your husband and your gasps for air, everything felt silent. 

Your blood ran hot at the way Aemond looked between you and Aegon. Nonetheless you met his eye, holding your chin up and wiping a bead of Aegon’s peak from your lip. 

It felt good. Watching as Aemond forced himself back into his stoic resolve; only bothering to subdue the way his eye filled with the same betrayal you still felt in your gut at the thought of the whore who had been on her knees for him in an almost identical way. 

Stoicism and slow, simmering, silent rage. 

The air around you turned hot enough to light a candle. Aemond’s presence alone had proven to be enough to send you spiralling from the heat he encased you in whenever he was in the same room but this? You were choking, sick to your stomach and doing your best to keep your knees from buckling at his intensity. 

Aemond heard Aegon ramble out some hideous insult, watched how you frowned at him and heard the echoes of his cackle. But the ringing in his ears overwhelmed it all and he had no clue what his brother had taunted him with before his fist met Aegon’s cheek with a loud crack.

He didn’t bother sparing his brother a second glance. Aemond was stood in front of you and despite his obvious anger, he pulled you up from where you were seated with a gentleness which had your mind reeling. 

There was a threat hidden in his voice. “Come with me. Now.”

Perhaps you had made a mistake. The gentle fury in Aemond was terrifying and even though you knew he would never raise a hand at you the way he thoughtlessly did at Aegon, there were so many ways that a Prince could ruin you. 

You felt a pit of regret now that it was over and the curtain of lust had lifted. It was easy to see how simple it is to get lost in the touch of another but it was easier to see how simple it is to avoid it. 

There was satisfaction. And you felt it simultaneously with the adrenaline of being caught and the doubts of your actions. Princes and Princesses and Kings and Queens were so unaware of their hypocrisy until it was spat back into their faces. 

Aemond would never in a million years have understood what he was doing to you if you had just been a submissive little wife and forgiven him. But now? Now he would know. And now things would be balanced and your desire to hurt him as he had done you has been fulfilled. And now you could see how this marriage would really stand against such tests.

And now, you may finally know whether Aemond truly did not care for you. Because if Aemond did not care for you–or even in part; love you–then he would not be hurt and he would not be feeling such betrayal.

Right now, as Aemond silently walked you towards his chambers, hands fisted, jaw clenched tightly and his gaze fixed ahead, you were fearful of how things would fare. As strong as you wished for your resolve to stay, Aemond’s disappointment was showing you a new weakness. And his words, you knew, if they were used as weapons then you would stand little chance against them. There was a heavy weight against your lower back where his hand sat, pushing you gently so that you glided through the halls faster. 

It wasn’t a long journey back to Aemond’s quarters. But it felt like hours to the Prince, the nausea in his gut silencing him the entire way. He felt like a child again, presented with a pig instead of a dragon, the shrill laughs of his cousins and his brother striking him with flashes of humiliation. 

Again and again and again, Aegon would do whatever he could to see Aemond crumble. Aegon would always take Aemond’s dignity, his honour, his crown. And now he just had to take his wife? 

Aemond shut the doors to his chambers roughly and you were quick to put some distance between the two of you. There was a hollow ball of guilt and fear that caught in your throat but you couldn’t deny the elation at the mixture of emotions in Aemond’s eye as he turned to face you. 

It was a reflection of how you had felt upon finding Aemond in bed with another. He would finally understand. 

Only Aemond was worlds away from the damned arousal you had felt and instead it was replaced with a youthful dread, a panic that you had never seen from him before now. 

There was hardly a moment for you to register the harshness of Aemond’s grip on your bicep as he pulled you toward the bowl that was kept by his bath, filled with clean water and accompanied by a tray of freshening oils. He lightly shoved you toward it as he let you go, unfazed by the sound of shock that you could not hold back. 

“Wash your mouth,” he spat. Although your back was to him, you could feel how he suppressed the extent of his rage as he was ever so good at doing. “And then we will talk.”

You bit your tongue and did as he said, wincing at the ice in his words and the angry strain of his voice. There was a lot that you wanted to say, to scream at him. He was angry–and to some extent he had every right to be–but how could Aemond have expected you to be okay with something that he clearly could not take on the chin?

But the way he had held you, the tone of his voice and the harshness in his glare had you wondering if revenge was worth whatever comes next. Because, amongst the whirlwind of fear and guilt and regret was gratification and fulfilment. 

The prickle of Aemond’s glare had disappeared before you were ready to dry your mouth with a towel. Quiet as ever, he had snuck away and by the time you had realised, the sound of the door shutting and the click of the lock had notified you of his absence. 

Aemond had locked you in. When you had swiftly tried to push the doors open, unaware of where you would go and truthfully not intending to leave in the first place, it didn’t budge. And when you called for the kingsguard who stood at the other side of the door, you went unanswered aside from a curt reply that he had been ordered not to let you leave. 

So you had resigned yourself to sitting atop Aemond’s bed rather than the seating arrangements scattered around the rest of the quarters. It smelled strongly of lavender, leather and Aemond’s very own scent–the one that always had you on the verge of drooling. But it only sent your nerves into overdrive, afraid that the consequences of your vengefulness, no matter how satisfying it was initially, may be too dire to recover from. 

The thought of whatever Aemond had planned for Aegon was not nice. You were correct in assuming that your tryst with Aegon would only cut your husband deeper because it was Aegon. The depth of whatever issues these brothers shared was far beyond you but you had only assumed that all second born princes would be affected in such a way. And Targaryen’s were full of complexities, each believing that they were better than everyone. Even their own siblings. 

Aegon had known that his younger brother would become nothing short of murderous. But he had never been a man to avoid even the slightest of temptations. Both the idea of indulging in you and inflaming the ever unresponsive Aemond were far more than slightly tempting. It would be worth the bloodied nose, the split lip and the sick that he’d spewed over his shoes when Aemond had returned to grace him with an inhumanly strong hit to his balls. Somehow, Aemond had made that act of violence seem like child’s play with the threats that he had rained down upon Aegon. 

King Aegon, who simply did not know when to keep his mouth shut and had all but asked for it with the way he taunted Aemond with a sentence he never had the chance to complete. “Seeing as you cannot satisfy even your own wife-”

He wasn’t there long. Aemond’s angry mind was racing and he couldn’t think past the red of his rage. But Aemond still knew better than to stay where he would surely commit a treason he would regret. 

Whatever fury Aemond had unleashed upon Aegon in the short time he was away had seemed to calm him down. He was still clearly angry when he stepped back into his quarters but there was a far less frightening storm brewing in his eye. 

At his return, you had stood from the bed. The air was sucked right out of the room when Aemond stood right in front of you, so close that you could count the creases in the leather of his eyepatch. There was a tense silence in which he stared at you, waiting for you to fold but you only held your head high and met his gaze stubbornly. 

Minutes had passed before Aemond spoke. His voice was far softer than you had expected and he seemed to have settled down a bit as he dragged his knuckles across your cheek, only to grip your chin so that you could not look away from him. Aemond held you tightly but not tight enough that it hurt.

“Enough of this,” It was an order, stern and unrelenting. “No more. This was a step too far-”

You scoffed in his face. “A step too far? Had you not done the same thing?”

Aemond had never in his life apologised for anything. He never felt sorry. And he never wished to admit to his mistakes. But here he was, face to face with the effects of one of the biggest mistakes he had made. If there were anything he could have done aside from apologise, he would have done it. But it was the only thing that would ease the mess of guilt that had arisen inside of him. For what he had done with the whore and for everything he hadn’t done for your marriage. 

“It was a mistake. If I could undo it, I would,” I’m sorry. “This was childish of you. Vengefulness is unbecoming.”

There was a beastly disgust that Aemond felt when he thought of another man even looking at you. The image of Aegon’s cock in your mouth, his seed leaking from your lips made him want to burn the entire realm to ashes. Aemond’s eye trailed along your jaw, to your neck and then down past your stomach. Did Aegon touch you where only he was to touch you?

Fuck treason. Aemond would feed Aegon to Vhagar if he had indulged in your body. 

“It is more than vengeance. You would not have understood what I felt. How I suffered because of you and your whore,” you tried your best to keep your voice stable. The lump in your throat and the tears that blurred your vision forced you to pull out of Aemond’s grip and turn your back to him. “You promised me you would never do that. You dishonoured me. You insulted me. You hurt me–Aemond, do you have any idea the things that they say about me?”

Aemond frowned and you could not see how he reached for you, only to drop his hand back to his side. “I–”

“That I am a failure. That I am-that I am so repulsive and so dull that you cannot even lay with me to produce an heir,” you couldn’t help the sob that escaped you. “And I saw what she was doing to you, what you were doing to her. I could never even have imagined the existence of such an act that had given you so much pleasure-”

“There was no true pleasure with her.” Aemond mumbled. Pathetically. 

Pathetic was exactly the word. Aemond may have been good with a sword, in a fight, with his dragon and when strategizing wars. But he was a pathetic husband–a pathetic partner, a pathetic lover. And he had the urge to take out his good eye for being so mindless and so ignorant. 

Hindsight was his worst enemy, it seemed. Because in hindsight, Aemond would have done everything differently, right from the moment you were introduced to him.

“Lie. It was clear, Aemond. They are all right, are they not?” You felt him step into you, his warm chest against your back. Leather and lavender and him. “I have failed. My womb is still empty. The last time you visited my bed was moons ago. I know you do not love me, my Prince, but I have love for you. Men are not the only ones who need intimacies of the body–I needed that and you have never given me anything. Yet you gave it to her. I wished to hurt you as you had hurt me.”

There were no words that Aemond could find. So he settled for shaking his head and watching you as you sat yourself down on the edge of his bed, staring down at your hands on your lap. You were so wrong in your perception of him but he couldn’t find the words to explain that. But Aemond decided in that moment that he would show you, one way or another. He hesitated before sitting beside you. 

You couldn’t meet his eye if you tried. It was as if your body was telling you to stop talking, that these thoughts were too painful to share, feelings too abstract and tender to put into words. 

“It is wretched, I know–to have turned to Aegon,” you felt him tense beside you and against your better judgement, you placed a hand on his thigh in an attempt to give him some comfort. “I wished to hurt you but I also wished to learn. I thought maybe if I knew how to-how to do things that would make you feel good so that maybe you would feel for me as I have for you. Aegon said he could show me. It is ridiculous, I understand that now.”

Aemond took your hand in his, the heat of your skin against his was fierce for such an insignificant action. He hated that it was easier for you to turn to Aegon than it was to turn to him. “I could have shown you. I can show you so much more. If only we had been honest with each other from the beginning.”

“I thought you do not want me.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. It would be less painful to drive his own dagger through his heart. “I crave for you, my love. I was just too stubborn to admit it and too afraid of what it means. And I did not know how to show you how badly I burn for you.”

The sight of tears had never fazed him until they were yours. Aemond was not particularly pious, he prayed simply because his mother had raised him to pray, but he would be on his knees every hour of every day if it meant that he could take these feelings away from you. If it meant that he could take it all back and start over. 

“I am sorry. No more of this,” you said. “No more seeking out the touch of anyone else in place of each other.”

“I will be a better husband,” Aemond stated, as if he were telling it to himself as much as he was to you. “I will try for our marriage and our duty. And for you.”

“Your promises haven’t proven to mean much to me. All is not forgiven just because we have talked,” You sighed, but gave him a weak smile, turning to look at him. 

He gazed down at you with determination, his jaw tight and his eye glistening with tears that wouldn’t fall. There was no attempt to push you away when you reached up to take off the leather that covered his bad eye. You wanted to see him as he was, even if only for a moment.

Gods, he was beautiful. 

As you stood you forced your smile to turn lighthearted as you teased him through your heavy hearts. “Jealousy motivates you well, my Prince. I shall remember that.”

Aemond hummed, mostly serious as his hands tightly grabbed your hips. “Do not jest like that. I will not be able to look at Aegon without dreaming of murdering him for defiling you how only I should. I cannot afford such treasonous fantasies.”

There was a silent threat in his words. Nonetheless, you leaned down to his ear, gasping gently at the harshness of his fingers squeezing the flesh of your hips. Just his hands on your body alone set you alight. 

“Perhaps my husband should leave the door to his bedchambers open tonight,” you let out a small laugh at the way that he pulled you to straddle his lap so suddenly, gently nipping the skin of his earlobe. You weren’t quite done messing with him. 

“Is that so?” He smiled and you thought that it made him all the more beautiful. 

“Yes,” you smirked, when he groaned frustratedly at your next words, softly throwing you onto the bed. “I may wish to show you exactly what I have learned.”

[insufferablelust]

The Prince Regent (Aemond Targaryen x F!Sister!Reader)

{Can be read as the sequel of Gevī}

There are rumors floating around after the march of the greens in Rook’s rest, you were shocked when you learned of what has happened, rushed to confront your brother— you were made to once again quell the madness within with rekindling the fire with him.

This work contains mature acts, Minors DNI. 18+ Only.

Words counted: 10.4k+

Content include: 18+ MDNI! Targcest (canon incest practice of the Targaryen house), Smut, Sex, Oral sex (F receiving), Heavy breeding kink, Slight exhibitionism (Sex at the council chamber), Choking, Rough sex, Dumbification, Manhandling, Slight degradation, Reader has the attributes of the Targaryens (silver hair, purple eyes etc), Mention of violence, Canon injuries and death, Mention of usurping the throne (half-canon), LOTS of pet names, Slightly Dark!Aemond (He is so obsessive and possessive and feral of you.)

Note: Hello! I am back with new fic yay! this is another Aemond fic, which can be read as the follow up of my last fic, Gevī which can be found here, or you can also read it as a standalone, up to you! This work is NOT beta’d (there will be revision) since once more I am still slammed with work so I have yet the time to refer to my beta reader, but hopefully there is nothing much amiss, if there is, I apologize and I hope it will not disturb your reading experience. ALSO AEMOND IS UNHINGED IN THIS ONE YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Remember that english is not my native language so bear with me. My request is always open for HOTD characters. Enjoy and let me know what you think! thank you my loves.

Masterlist

The day has been moving rather slowly today, you mused, the sun looks as though it is shining but overshadowed by gloomy clouds at the same time— horizon darkens as the end of the day is fast approaching. It has been a strange day, oddly quiet even in the hustle and bustle of a dreaded war-coming, you had heard of your brothers whereabouts, both the King and the Prince as your mother was panicking earlier when they both were absent from the small council meeting.

You ignored the ever so loud chattering of the lords and ladies around the hall, as you sat below the Weirwood tree to read your book, the only place where you ought to sought comfort and refuge from the looming darkness that follows ahead, you had always been more receptive— taking in your surroundings and only use your sharp wit when necessary, you are like your brother, Aemond, in that sense, where you do not find pleasure in talking much if it does not have any meaning to it.

Though, you had not been silent since the days following Aegon’s crowning, your expertise in knowing Westerosi territories and politics are often seen be used by the small council as Aemond would come to you in any instance he needed help. You also always tried to interpret Helaena’s cryptic messages— having realized of your older sister’s ancient-like gift since you were little, it was you that had warned them to move the crowning ceremony anywhere but the Dragonpit when she had said “Beware of the beast beneath the boards.” Yet when they do not paid attention to you nor your sister, tis’ true that your family was one second away from being engulfed in Meleys’s fire if not for the Princess Rhaenys’s last minute compassion.

But alas, you had not been of useful as of late, ever since the passing of your nephew, Jaehaerys, you scolded yourself often on why you were not with Helaena that night, or why you did not have the time to interpret what she had said about the rats, though, Aemond had repeatedly assured you that there was no way that one can know such cruel thing would happen, and that there was nothing you could have done— moreover if you had stayed with Helaena that night, all your lives might be even more in danger due to the fact that you’re a young maiden.

You still feel guilty though, for you had been spending your night in the arms of your husband that night— comforting each other in warm embraces inside your chambers.

You and Aemond had always been inseparable since the day you were born, his little sister— someone he had always come to whenever he was faced with a hard time finding solace due to the constant torment and taunts your eldest brother and nephews has caused upon him. You can scarcely remember the times where Aemond is happy in his childhood, but the memories that stood the tallest in your memory are ones akin to when he would read to you about the Aegon’s conquest or Rhaenys’s journey to Sunspear, or Visenya’s tales with Vhagar.

Another one is when he had ventured through Maegor tunnels to get to your room and would ask timidly to sleep in your room because he was plagued by nightmares, or that time when he had come to your defense as Aegon broke one of your crystal jar, one that housed the famed rose from the North, or that time after he claimed Vhagar, eye sewn shut in Driftmark, you had visited him in his chambers despite your mother’s warning to let him rest when you know better that he would feel better accompanied by you. Tis’ unbreakable this bond of yours, strongly linked, and undoubtedly passionate.

Aemond finds all the thing he is not, in you, you are gentle, soft spoken, soothing in nature— even as your hair is as silver pale as he, your jaws are as sharp he, your wit are as bright as he— Aemond adored the part that truly empowers you, your compassionate self, your jaw-dropping smile, your unmasked confidence, your unapologetic self is what makes him honored to have you by his side.

Your presence calms his raging stormy minds and hot tempered self, your sweet saccharine voice, your angel like touches, your supple smooth skin— always seems to be flustered in heat when near him, your soft lilac eyes that gives him assurances, your slightly curlier locks— something you get from your mother, always half braided with half fanned to your side— the necklace you wore, given by him, a Valyrian ruby that always adorned your enthralling being, you are the epitome of a Valyrian goddess, graced with the beauty that people would go to war for, solicited by your intelligence that makes you powerful altogether. The word ‘infatuated’ does not even cover his love for you.

Speaking of your brother, the days following his return from Storms end had caused many distraught upon learning of what befell your nephew, in the flurry of it all, Aemond had taken your maidenhead, which he swore to wed you then— and that he did, asked his mother to betroth him to you once and for all as you had always meant to be— insisting after the death of Jaehaerys that it is crucial to have more heirs so that if the time comes, your bloodline will not perish so easily— Alicent, of course, had been furious at his son for, “How dare you corrupt your little sister!” but when you came to Aemond’s defense, she let her guard down and at last grant you both what you wished.

The deal with the Baratheons has been annulled… for now.

You both were wed in the sept just a few days after the tragedy, and were happily consummating your marriage if not for the news of Ser Cole and Gwayne Hightower’s success of house Darklyn in Duskendale, and is set to march to Rook’s rest once more, where Aemond is to to join him, he had told you once after an intense rounds of fucking.

You were finally pulled out of your reverie when the chatter around you gets louder, feeling irked by it you look up from you book only to have your frown wiped out by the sight in front of you. You saw few of Aegon’s knighted guards bringing a huge wooden box covered with your house’s sigil— Gods be good. You have thought of the worst then, what if it is Aemond? what if they are carrying his de—

“Princess, Her Grace the Queen Dowager has requested your presence in King Aegon’s chamber.”

Aegon?

“Thank you, Ser Harrold.” You replied, clutching the book tightly as you stand up, and walk towards where the other knights and seemingly hurdles of Maesters rushing to, your throat dried at the possibilities of what might await you once you reach Aegon’s chamber.

Is he alright?

Is Aemond alright?

Did they defeat the Blacks? What happened in Rook’s rest?

“Mother.” You muttered as you halt your steps upon reaching the now packed room, your eyes does not yet know where to land it’s sight on, the frantically moving figure of Maester Orwyle tending to a charred body on the bed, or the hisses that came from the servants who brought fresh linens, cloths, and water, or at your mother who stood with panic written all over her face, eyes glassy with tears.

“What has happened?” You asked, still unable to figure out exactly who is it that laid there, due to the hurdling of bodies taking pieces of armors off. The smell of burning and dragon fire is so evident, that the ladies around you scrunched their nose— you thought none of it considering you are no stranger to the smell of dragons— but what caught your line of sight next shocked and silenced you quickly.

There laid the King, your eldest brother, Aegon, with half of his face badly charred, his body littered in wounds from fire— the sight of him like that makes you choke and sob as you lean against Alicent who also watches with terrified eyes, “Is my son going to die, Maester?” Her shaky voice only enhanced the amount of tears you let out, lips trembling in confused emotions.

How did— who did— why did—

“I will do whatever I can to help him, your grace, but now I must get back because this is the most important step.” Came Orwyle’s response. You may despise Aegon for his lack of respect towards anyone— women in particular, but he is still your brother, your king.

“Why isn’t Heleana here?” You asked, turning your head to look at your mother, “and… Aemond?” came the question that have plagued your mind since you were fetched by Ser Harrold earlier in the Godswood, is he alright? did he suffer the same fate? did the blacks charred him too? I can not live without him, he— I cannot—

“Come.” Your mother beckoned you out of the chamber to sit by the bench near the Weirwood tree you sat earlier, your eyes are frantic, trying desperately to understand what is going on, what happened, and most importantly if your brother— Aemond is alright, “I can not call for Helaena… she—“ Alicent’s voice came with a choked sob, it breaks your heart seeing her like this, after seeing what befell Aegon, you understood that this is hard for her regardless the way how anyone feels about him, your brother, her son.

“I can not put more burden on your grieving sister, you must understand that only you can do this.” Her irises stabs right through yours as you ponder her words, digesting on what she could mean by ‘do this’— you understood why Helaena wasn’t called first thing to Aegon’s chamber despite her being his Queen, his wife, the reigning monarch in his absence, due to her still sullen with grief, but then it all clicks for you.

Ah.

This is about Aemond, if Helaena is your mother’s pawn to strengthen Aegon’s claim, then anything linked to you have always been, will, and must be about Aemond.

Only you,

You’re the only one that can soothe Aemond, calm him, hear him, understand him, discipline him when needed, tame him when necessary.

Only you that can release the ever glooming glorious tension that has risen and finally reached its peak between the heirs— one who was born first as a male heir, and the other one who is actually deserving of it by power and knowledge.

It’s you, his soulmate, his other half— it has only been you and everyone knows it, even your sister whom have said you are meant to fill the socket of the eye that Aemond has lost, you’re the missing piece in his tormented soul, the very needle that threads his wound, heal his anger, and cool down his temper.

But before you can open your mouth to respond, the sound of clanking armor once again reached the both of you and a voice boomed through the otherwise serene peace of the Godswood, “Pardon me, Your Grace, Your Highness, but the small council has gathered, and has asked for the presence of the Dowager Queen.” the Knight spoke, causing you to sigh and drown the words you had meant to speak of.

“Very well, I must return but please,” She looked at you feverishly, “My love, you need to talk to him, reason with him, because he will not do so with me.” Your heart once again breaks at that, yes you may have not had the fondest of love for your mother solely because she was too busy preparing Aegon, being queen in your father’s sickness, and feuding with your half-sister to care for you but alas, just like Aegon, she is of your blood, she is your mother— knowing she feels powerless to aid her own children, so much so, she asked for her youngest daughter’s help is a sorrowful thing to witness.

“I will, mother, now go.” You said, pulling your best smile to soothe her, the tresses of your silver locks blowing in the wind as she cup your face to kiss your forehead before fleeing to the small council chamber— leaving you with your thoughts once more, deserting you to quell over your confusion, with no comfort of assurance or security— you need Aemond, and he needs you, but how can you both reason with him when he is not within your reach, you just seek to know his safety and shield him, Helaena, and your niece of all this— but alas,

Did he do it?

Did he burn Aegon?

Is his desire for power so great that it quenches whatever left of affection you all had as siblings?

What will you do?

You love Aemond, you love him more than anything in the realm, your bond with him as strong as the bond you share with your dragon, Valyx, you do not and will never betray him— you had remembered his promise of making you his Queen, that the realm will bow to both of you, that his love for you is so great that it will be more than enough for him to fight and relinquish in victory— but at what cost? You had half the mind to seek Helaena, to ask for her guidance but that thought is quickly diminished by knowing the fragile state of your sister after Jaehaerys’s passing.

No, you will have to speak to Aemond, whatever result it may produce, whatever madness awaits you, whatever turn of story that may arise— you have to be ready for it, willing to face it, conquer it— for you do not wish for harm to ever come to those you love, to Helaena, your niece, your mother— and most importantly Aemond.

You just hope the Gods will grant you their blessings and forgiveness to what you will do or don’t do.

—

You had waited hours outside the small council chamber, pacing in front of the huge grant door, thinking and pondering on what you must say to Aemond, what you will do to reason with him. Your thoughts are plagued with the memories of your last encounter with Aemond, not that you can help it, it practical branded itself to you— He had always branded himself to your memory with everything he said and does.

It was the night after his small council meeting had gone awry, well according to his recollection— Aegon had once again undermined his knowledge and acted foolishly, not trusting his brother’s judgement, Aemond laid down on your lap, as you caresses his hair, his patch is off now that he is alone with you, in your chambers, with you only wearing your lilac shift and he, a tunic pants.

“Zȳhon mition yne amīvindis.” He had said that night as the flame dances through his iris and shappire— there is that unquenchable anger in him, you felt it miles away even before he laid on your bed, you knew that he was furious by the way he stormed to your room at the hour of the wolf, you had been sleeping when he entered, but quickly made way for him beside you. His stupidity infuriates me.

“Aegon?” You asked as your fingers cards through his hair in a soothing manner, you wish you can take away his pain, his worries, his fear— but Aemond is a hot tempered man, who will not be denied of his desires, who will not back down from a fight, who will never cower in silence, “Hm.” He hummed to you, “He is your king.” You humored him, passing a chuckle to the wind.

“Not for long.” Your fingers halted as he looked at you, trying to process what he just said, you knew your brother is hungry for power— for his throne, but it has always been a blur to you just how he was going to win— especially with Rhaenyra’s looming threat of war now, “Aemond…” You whispered, a distraught look is evident on your face, your rosy lips pout like it is begging for him to kiss you feverishly— to claim you once again.

“Do nor fret, sister,” He said, eyes sharp through yours while he bring his thumb up to your lip to press down on your ever so cute and tempting pout, what a tempting little tart, he thinks, “I do not wish to bring upon the ruin of the realm,” He pushes his thumb slightly in, you gladly open your lips to take the tip of his thumb inside and suckle on it as it is your lifeline. Your eyes closed for a second from a comforting gesture it brings you, he knows this calms you, content you— “Unlike Aegon.” He whispered the last part before completed parting your lips with his thumb so you can suck on it with little mewls of contentment.

He cooed at your subdued state, gods, he does not care of anything but to serve you— give you the realm as you fully deserve, his queen. Beautiful, untainted, pure, and the very image of both the Mother and Maiden bestowed upon a figure— you, you and your flustered self, you and your cherry lips, fluttering eyes, smooth silver locks, body of a goddess, a personality of Eve, charm of Rhaenys, dream of Daenys, fierce of Visenya, and soul that is unique to just you. He worships you more than you know, but he will show you— he will always show you.

“There you go, sweet girl.” His voice both soothe and heat up your core, and it catches you by no surprise when the night ended with you both tangling atop of the bed, with you on your hands and knees, his hand against the back of your neck— as he fucked your cunt with a varying pace of both a feral madman, and a devout husband— yours. You had been naught but a whimpering mess, a shaky shivering little girl overwhelmed with pleasure.

He had worshipped you then, kisses you softly on your skin as he brings you to your peak over and over and over again with his fingers, mouth, cock— every inch of him is solely to make you feel heavenly, so much so, that you are sure that your vision had gone blurry and you slumped onto the bed as he took care of you.

Your mind was quickly pulled once more from your thoughts when you heard the door of the small council chamber had finally been opened, you stood diligently to the side, waiting for your husband so that you may speak to him. You watched the lords move outside one by one, bowing to you when they catch you, which you had curtly but politely nod, until Lord Larys Strong came to your line of sight.

“Princess, how nice it is to see you.” Now you have never hold much disdain towards those who does not deserve it, and though Larys had never done anything to you personally, you are but know how much a rat he truly is. Indeed, he is an intelligent cunning man, known for his whisperings and cruel deeds that, even you, do not wish to know—but for the sake of the crown, you begrudgingly smiled, “Likewise, Lord Larys.” The fingers behind your back is picking at your cuticle in stress, Gods where is Aemond.

“The Prince Regent will certainly be delighted with your presence, regency is not an ea—“

“Regent?” Your brow furrowed at the mention, head spinning and running by a thousand miles— “Aemond… regency?” You asked, desperately trying to figure out what in the Seven hells happened and what has been done by it, “Yes, your highness, he—“

“Larys, may I speak with my wife in private now?” His voice came from inside the room, and you can scarcely see his figure emerging from inside, he is wearing his usual black attire, adorned with a green coat as a sign that he had been riding Vhagar prior, your eyes slipped to see the now two dagger on his side, one each, and your lips twitch with shock as you spot Blackfyre on the scabbard, you can not mistaken it, for it is one of the only two mighty Valyrian sword left that belongs to your family. Aemond had watched you gawking at him with an aura of eerie calmness to him, the sight making your spine curled and skin shivering.

This is all for you, sister, all I do is for you, he wants to say.

Your stare fled from his dagger up to his calm form, the way he holds so much power even when he is just standing there, with his arms behind his back, legs parted, head tilted, and lips pressed into a thin line—your violet eyes went up up up until his own gleams into yours, heating what feels like a suffocating heat around you. You continued staring into his eyes as your heart thundered inside your chest, you do not even notice that Larys had said his farewell and had left you both alone, at the entry of the council chamber— or at least you thought you were alone, before your mother’s voice spoke from behind the door— caught your peripheral vision.

“What are you doing here so late, sweet girl? have you had supper yet?” She asked, hands coming up to cupped your cheek in her otherwise cold hand, she’d been furious, you mused, eyes fleeting to the red marks on your mother’s finger, it seems that old habits die hard, “I wish to speak to Aemond, mother.” You bit the inside of your cheek at the way you almost whimpered his name— yes you are confused and possibly angry at him right at this very moment but he is your husband, the love of your life, your other half— you are also drowned by worries and fears of his safety, especially after seeing the state Aegon is in.

“I need to know he is well.” and safe and I just want to run away with him where no one can find us, I wish this madness can stop and be in peace with him— but you do not say that, no, you just smiled softly at your mother upon hearing Aemond hummed at you intriguingly, almost like he is both amused and mocking your sense of worry.

He knows that you know he did what he did.

Good, he thinks, let you see that he would burn the realm down for you, he would sooner die than to give you any less than what his wife, his precious sweet sister deserves.

“Very well then, I shall check on how Helaena is doing.” You do not miss the way Aemond’s lips twitches at the mention of either your sister or your eldest brother, his stoic self is evermore transparent yet foggy all the same for you to read, “Tell her we send our well wishes…” It’s his turn to speak now, eyes never leaving your figure with his voice ever so so alluringly gentle, “and to Aegon’s recovery, of course.”

Your spine curled at that, the invisible hair on your skin risen at the chill and smugness of his voice— Gods, Aemond… what have you done.. that’s all you can think but moreover, what will I do with you.

Your mother left you both at that, yet you can’t find it in you to move or speak to him, the slit on your dress passes the breeze seeping through your skin, the neckline that came above your breasts seems so tight now as you take desperate breaths to calm yourself down— you both just stared at each other, his, with longing, love, affection, you you you.

Yours are filled with the same longing, same love, same subject of desire yet there is a glint of confusion, uncertainty, and doubt swimming in your eyes— not to spite him or put distrust in him, he knows that, he knows you best— He knows you are just confused, a darling little pet you are, even when thrusted with so many responsibilities at the time of war, you still have that innocent childlike self in you that cowers in his gaze, that is desperate to seek good in the midst of destruction, that is curious, always seeking his approval, his assurances. It warmed him, for he knows that, only he, can assuage that building turmoil inside of you, only he can ease your pain, assure your worry.

“Come.” He said, Aemond beckoned you inside the council chamber with two flicks of his fingers, you followed suit, hands cold in front of you— blood of the dragon yet cold hands, he always muses to you often time he warmed you up, ah you do always love his warmth, engulfing you with security and love, comforting you the only way Aemond can, you longed for that, and you know he longs for it too.

“Aemond..” Your lips trailed as the door closes behind you, there Aemond stopped in his tracks, leaning against the table with his hand perched back against it, lips turned in an amused smirk with his head tilted.

Fuck fuck fuck, you need to focus.

“Aemond…” You said once more, walking closer to him but stopping just few feet away, keeping a respectful distance— not that it mattered much, if he wanted to— and he does— he could have you so easily, manhandles you right here right now, bending you over the very table he now commands and pound you to oblivion, releasing his pent up rage and frustration in that sweet sweet cunt of yours, “Hm?” Aemond merely hummed at you even when his mind conjured up the most obscene things, he has to have you, he needs— “Speak, little one, I am listening.” He grinned with mockery, which made you huff and stomp your feet like you used to do when you were a little girl, yet he finds you so sweet as you do it, only making his heart soar with love and desire for you.

What are you doing to him, little girl?

“What has happened?” What he would do to wipe that pout from your face, why are you testing him so far today, his little nymph, “It was a successful operation at Rook’s rest.” He replied calmly, making your blood boil as you scoffed and shake your head disdainfully at his remark, “It was foolish, reckless even—“

“Did we not took out the largest looming threat?” He pressed on, edging you to be angry with him, “It was a worthy effort, a worthy price.” His eyes twinkle when he see your heating face— such an angry little dove, you are, what a temperament that has long been subdued by your years of princesses duties, causing you to retract back to a shell— though he knows better, that you and him share the blood of dragon and fire in you.

Let it burn, sweet sister, let it burn and we shall emerge from the ashes.

“A worthy effort? your king is at the teetering edge of death.” You bit your lip to suppress your anger, let it simmer but do not let it boil to overheat, “What of Helaena, Aemond? she has just lost her son, and now you’ll take away her husband too?” You tried to reason with him, eyes fleeting from his yes to his puffing red lips back to his eyes.

Focus, fuck, why can’t you focus.

“What do you take me for, sister?” His tone is accusatory, eyes sharply glared at you, if he was annoyed before, he is furious now, “You accused me of treason, is that it? deem me a kinslayer?” You tap your feet below you, a sign that you’re either nervous or irritated— maybe both at this point.

“You said it, not me, Aemond.” It was a pitiful attempt at trying to not think of him that way— even in your anger, you still want to find the good in him, but dearest sister, alas your soulmate is one paradox only you can understand, one cursed being you can love, a match to your own fixation, “Tell me you did not do it.” Your eyes held so much hope in them, pleading and begging for his assurances. He truly would do anything to destroy anyone that make you this worrisome, but if it is him, then he shall do what he always did, to declare his love for you, so immense that he can do naught, but serve the realm on a golden plateau for you.

He closes the gap between the two of you, standing tall over you, leaning his head forward to press his forehead against yours— breathing with rage with his warm palm coming up to cup your jaw, a possessive gesture, served only for you, there is so much passion between the two of you that your mind gets hazy and fuzzy with it, “Sweetling,” He breathes, once, twice, three times, “What have I told you over and over, hm? what did I promise to you?” His words thrum against your skin, with your bones stilling itself in the desire to melt into him— become one with him.

I will never leave you, dōnus ñuhys, you are destined to be my queen, for all the Seven, nor the Old Gods can never deny us.

“There will be nothing left for us if this madness do not cease, Aemond…” You whispered his name, eyes prickling with sharp heat beneath your eyelids— forcing you to close them shut even when you do not want to, “I am terrified.” You muttered it out of desperation and pure fear and that troubles Aemond, oh no no, his little girl, how has he been so blind to your cries.

He can feel his heart tugs with pain, his stubborn self is telling him to soothe you, calm you down, relieve you of your misery that is looming fear, oh little dragon— he hadn’t mean to scare you, only to show you his dedication, for who will he show it else to if not for the most important person of his life? he would not have find it in him to even claimed Vhagar, if it were not for you, you’re his source of life.

“Look at me.” That was not a request from him, but a demand, one you so eagerly followed, “You have me, what are you so terrified of when you have me?” He punctuates each of his words with pressing against you harder, your body jolted lightly as your rear hit the edge of the table after being spun by him.

“The war—“

“If we march together, our power will not easily be subdued— tis’ what needs to be done, and I will be ready to do it, risk my life so we will prevail. Would you not have done the same?”

“I would, you know I would.” Your eyes remained close throughout his declaration, eyes trying to frantically stop your tears but alas, it is a useless pursuit, tears flows down your cheeks at a faster rate than you’d like, at this Aemond cooed, wiping your tears, “You and I, we can have what is ours, sweetling, what has been ours since they took our eye.”

Our eye, he says, not mine— “You’re the missing eye that fills his socket.” Helaena once told you.

“What of Aegon?” You opened your eyes at him, holding his stare as best as you could even when he took a sharp breath and press his thumb on your pouty parted lips, “Aegon rushed to Rook’s Rest to proof his worth despite the better judgement offered by the council,” He paused, nose nudging into yours where you can feel every single allure that drips off your husband like its second skin, “He challenged Meleys, got overpowered, and I had to come in to save the armies… as I have intended to do before he so recklessly join in with Sunfyre.” His lips are touching his thumb now, the only thing shielding your petal bloomed parted lips with his.

You should be concerned by his statement, for you know Aegon would not ended the way he is now if Aemond had actually meant to ‘save him’, there is something else, you know he would not kill out of spite even with the years of insults and torments that Aegon himself, had bestowed upon your brother, he would not deliberately kill him, yet the intention to hurt is not lost on you.

Meleys is a strong dragon of your house, a battle trained one at that, but still not enough against the mighty Vhagar, that fought alongside Visenya on Dornish war and conquer it, let alone two dragons— but perhaps, you have naught but pressing longing now, your impulses seems to control you— your innate desires taking over and you can only do what your heart and body wants, never mind what your mind says, it matters not, you’re his, he’s yours.

You leaned impossibly closer to him, urging him to take away his thumb against your lips by tugging on his wrist as your glistening eyes look up at him with desperation in them, his humming is slightly cold, but you know better that its full of mirth— he is teasing you.

“I suppose now that I am in charge…” He tilted his head menacingly, pressing his lips upon the gap of your brow, hold you tight to him as he took in your rose oil scented skin, how heavenly, he thinks, “You ought to call me, your grace, isn’t that true, princess?” His thumb slipped inside your rosy lips then, the force is too heavy to bear as you sigh and suckle on the tip of his lips— eyes fluttered shut, “Uh huh.” Your lips parted from his thumb with a lewd pop!

“Your grace.”

Your eyes flit open, droopy with want, heat on the apex of your thigh is ever so persistent against the now soaked fabric of your silk smallclothes, Aemond eyes are sharp— ravenous as he stared at you, “Syz riña.” He purred. Good girl.

Having no more self control over him, Aemond use his free hand to hold the side of your neck— lightly pressing on the pulse point, enough to make your head dizzy, and presses his lips on yours with so much want, need, pressure of claim-claim-claim and mine-mine-mine.

If there is one thing about Aemond is that he’d never be denied, not when he was destined to claim the greatest dragon in the realm, not when he is supposed to sit on the Iron throne, and certainly not when he’s going to have you— no, you’re his, since you were bare as a babe, to now, his beautiful sweet girl of a wife.

Fuck, he’s achingly hard just at the feeling of your lips, body heat, and thought of your sweet flushed face. Gods be damned.

You gasped at the feeling of his teeth grazing your bottom lip, asking— no, demanding you to part your lips by biting at it— not too hard, yet enough to make you squirm on the ledge of the table, as your pretty pink raw lips parted in obedience, he wasted no time to push his tongue inside passionately— exploring your oh so delectable wet cavern like a madman, whilst you mewl with the lightheaded feeling of his grasp on your throat and his tongue battling, or more like conquering yours.

Your body is now dangerous low to the tabletop behind you as your nails fisting weakly at his leather tunic, a silent plea for him to give you time to breathe, its pure instinct he knows, but how can he deprive himself of you. Your melodic whines, the way your pink lips parted and indulge him so so sinfully, the way your chest heave with each gulping breath you try to take, and the way you clench your thigh, oh yes he knows all about it, little girl.

After you slap at his chest for a few times, Aemond finally relent, parting his lips from your now cherry bitten lips— you take big gulps of breath, gasping for what seems to be minutes after he released you, your head spins and you’re sure your knee would not been able to hold your figure even against the table if not for his strong grip on both your neck and waist.

“Come back to me.” He whispered, temple pressed against yours as you let out soft whimpers at the heightened pleasure of fuzziness in your head— just him him him, just Aemond Aemond Aemond, “I— please.” You can do naught but to plead with him, eyes watery as you stared at him—lips trembling, wanting to say so much more, please claim me, fuck me senseless, please make me forget that this realm exist, make me only yours, make me your queen just as you promised— but he knows, Gods he knows you, he knows what you want, he always does.

“Please what, sweetling?” But does it thrill him to no end seeing you so desperate, so needy for his touch that you’d beg and beg—Seven hells, not only is his heart thundered against his ribcage, but his cock is painfully aching at your dewey flushed face, “Use your words, zaldrītsos.” His words might be encouraging, yet his tone is anything but— its mockery, he is taunting you and it makes you drip down your legs. Little dragon.

“Touch me… please.”

You gathered all the voice you have left, even if it is just a mere whisper that sounded more like a meek mewl, “I am touching you.” He said, his fingers trails up and down the sleeve of your gown, making you shudder with want— tiny wantons of needy whines escaped you as his fingers trail upon the material of your silk covered breasts— nipples pert with peaking desires.

“Not— you know where I want your touch…” The frustration embedded within you forced this snappy remark of yours, one he clicked his tongue at, just like he always did when you were little— when you had eaten all your lemon cakes in a single sitting, when you would hide beneath the grassy slope atop of Rhaenys’s hill, when you would constantly fuss to keep his wound clean, so much so that you had stayed whenever the maester came in to change his dressings albeit the warning from your mother. It’s the click of the tongue that signifies not only to remind you of disobedience, but it holds a stronger purpose to know that he so affectionately loves and ardor whatever it is you do, even when you are being a fussy bratty little thing that you are.

“Being an impudent girl for me will not serve you well, I had thought you know this by now.” He shakes his head at you, fingers trailing backwards to slowly unlace the neat tying of your ladies’s work on the bodice of your gown— all the while brushing your half braided silver locks to the side and lean forward to nip at your neck causing you to gasp.

Oh he wishes to bend you to him, but moreover to protect you, all the same, as he did when he would wipe the lemon frosting from your lips, or give you his last candied sweets, or grip your wrist to lead you back to Maegor’s tunnels to not incurs the wrath of your mother, or clasp a hand to your lips to keep you from squeaking as to not alert Aegon of where your whereabouts— it is all meant as a testament of his often unspoken devotion to you, and you know it.

“Aemond—“ You are unable to mutter anything let alone an apology as you feel your gown slides off from your body down as it pooled on the ledge of the table— only held by how your body is pressed against the stone table, now only clad in your thin silk shift and smallclothes, you felt so exposed, your neck snapped sideways as you looked at the door behind you, it dawns in on you that you are in fact in a room where someone could just walk in, and found you both in the state of lewdness, “Aemond, not here.”

“I am the Prince regent, I shall do what I please, where I wish.” Came his reply, you can do naught but shudder at the deep rumble that is his voice, at your small gasp, Aemond continued to press soft almost gentle feather kisses on the exposed skin of your pulse point, down your jugular, to the base of your neck, behind your ear—“Ah!” You can feel him chuckling at your voiced pleasure, he knows you like the back of his hand, which spot makes you tick and jolt— you arch your back when he suck and nip at the sensitive skin, ever so reactive to his touch, you are.

You always are, little dove, like you are made to respond to him— his voice, touch, kisses, pleasure, demands— each and every single one of his decrees.

Aemond palm comes up to cusp your flowery breasts next, fondling the soft skin with your buds firmly against the calloused skin of his palm. He then rolled the blossoming darkening buds of pleasure between his index and thumb, causing you to grip onto his biceps, “Mm Seven—.” You tried your best to remain sane but alas, you never were to begin with, nothing is ever normal nor sane but you could not care less, not when it is him.

He chuckled at your oversensitivity, mouth slide down from the crook of your neck to your stern collarbone, before reaching the valley of your breasts. He looked up at you menacingly as he takes one of your pert bud into his mouth to suckle on it as you yelp— hand clutching his doublet in desperation, you are sure by now that your smallclothes is not only drenched but soaked from the way your cunt pulse with each second going by.

“Doñus riñus.” He murmured as he littered marks all over your now flushed skin, moving to the other neglected nipple, applying the same treatment of pull-tug-suckle on the poor overstimulated bundle of nerves. Sweet girl.

Aemond released your now reddened bitten tender buds with a loud pop! causing blush to once more darken on your flushed skin, he smirks up at you then,“Lay down, ābrazȳrys.” wife. He lightly push you downward against the stone table, you shuddered lightly when your heated skin met the cold surface, your eyes are glistened— wide yet droopy with needy innocence as you stared up at him, eyeing him as he removes his breeches slowly.

“Aemond…” You whined and pressed your thighs together when he keeps on teasing you by undoing his laces way too fucking slow, he knows it will drive you mad especially since your drenched tight cunt is inviting him oh so warmly— fuck, he thinks, you looked like the Maiden and Mother has painted, created the perfect goddess of the realm, silver locks wildly splayed on the table, with your braids almost undone, and your body glistened with thin layer of sweat and some of his spit, skin flushed with his markings on you, “Fucking temptress little slut.” He groaned as he stared at you panting.

Your puffy cheeks are heated with lust and neediness, your eyes stared at him like you always did when you sought comfort or wisdom from him— the same way little you had looked up at him whenever you beg for his remaining sweet treats, or when that first time in your reading chambers, oh how you had asked him so so sweetly to touch you— open and take your maidenhead like a good obedient little girl you are, how your bitten raw lips is murmuring pleads to him as if he wouldn’t give you what you want— oh his poor little darling, always wanting more more more.

Then his gaze fall down the swell of your breasts, the way it rises up and down with each breath you take, inviting him to suck and nip at the tender buds once more, and when he dropped his sight to your fluttering folds— he bit his lip, hard, for the view is both the most sinful obscene yet heavenly thing he could ever have witnessed in his lifetime, there you lay, ready for him, ripe for the taking, and the center of your pleasure is weeping for him to take care of you— to take you.

“Gevie.” He whispered as he drank his fill of you— you, the embodiment of a Princess, a Queen— all in name, nature, body, spirit, and soul, everyone should worship you, for he can swear to the Seven that you are holier than any deity common folk would pray to, you are not just the core of his being, but the essence of his vitality— his his his. Beautiful.

Aemond wastes no time to drop to fold your legs so he can enjoy his treat, he grunted before leaning down to kiss the inside of your mound— hand holding to your hips and one on your thighs to keep them there, his hold is stern enough to let you know that if you were to move them, oh little one, there will be consequences. You tried your best to keep them there as he press sweet lingering kisses all over the very surface of your folds, all wet and begging for him.

You gasped at the sudden sensation of his fingers parting your warm heat gently, making way for his tongue to spread the wetness from your opening up up up through the soft muscle then to your pearl, focusing on the now reddened and hardened nub with teasing licks and not yet a suckle on the oversensitive gem for he knows you would crumble and reach your peak oh so suddenly— no he wants to keep you on edge for a little longer, having you on that teetering insanity, controlling your pleasure as he pleases.

But when he does let up and suckle on the raw pulsing nub— you let out a sound akin to that of a scream, somewhere between a loud needy whine and strained moan— causing him to grunt, sending vibrations through your core, you jolted at the feeling, arching your back to pull away from him but causing a grinding effect instead— you clasped a hand on your lips to stifle the wanton sounds you let out.

“Ah-ah, do not hide from me now, little one.” He rasps against your cunt, you had half the mind to be bratty and yank his hair for causing you to be so so messy, but you only bit your tongue to halt yourself from getting yet another bruises from the last time you were bent over his knee— which was not that long ago, having been ridiculed on yet another Aegon’s quest, combined with your snappy attitude had him seeing red.

“Enough.”

“No.” You raised your eyebrow at the fuming man standing tall over you, having you crane your neck just to look up at his sharp eye and the mean clench of his jaw, “Thread carefully, sister.” He warned you, tilting his head that should’ve been an indication for you to stop— but alas you wanted to push him, to see the limit that is Aemond Targaryen, if only there is one— you rolled your eyes then, biting the inside of your cheek in an act of defiance. Oh now you have done it, little girl.

You barely seen him coming for the next you knew, you yelped as he manhandled you over his knee on the bed, both of your wrists are behind you, tightly gripped by his much larger ones— “Let me go.” You whined, trying to tug free of his grip only for him to chuckle darkly, “You wanted to test me, push me, and now you shall see the consequence of your misbehavior.”

“Aemond—“

“Ah-ah, if you wanted me to treat you like a whore, all you gotta do is ask, darling.” You clenched at that, letting out a squeaky gasp at the way his voice resonates through the room, “Hm, lets see if we can put that mouth to a better use than running your tongue like a tart.” With that he pushed two of his free digit to the inside of your bitten lips— down down down until it rests against your throat.

You looked up at him with teary eyes, heated cheeks, and lips wide open with his fingers stuffed inside of you— both preventing you to speak and constrict your air intake, causing your head to get fuzzy— not dangerous just flying on that mind space of him him him, Aemond notices your now cloudy lilac orbs and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead— all the gentleness short lived, however, when he freed your wrist from his grip to press a loud impactful swat to your cheeks causing you to yelp against his fingers.

“Now lets see if your dumb little head can count for me.”

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you feel the stinging white noise of his slap against your folds— yelping as you feel your peak closing in, “I’m close— please please.” You writhed underneath him before he gently shushes you, taking one of his hand and intertwining it with yours, whilst he enters your wet warm opening with the other— a finger slides in, before a second joining the pleasurable stretch.

“Tight little thing, you are.” He shakes his head between your thighs but your ears are ringing too loudly to register anything right now, mind so so hazy with cunt so so overstimulated, meanwhile, Aemond continues his ministration on your pearl, suckling on the poor nub with vigorous attention, “Mmnh, I—“ You can feel the height of your pleasure come crashing down on you, stomach tightening with heat, too hard, too much, so quickly.

“Let go for me, sweetling.”

You obeyed at his command, as you always do, a good girl you are always do as he wishes— your peak was a long one with you letting out a silent scream followed by plethoras of his name and chanting ‘ah’s’ and ‘oh Gods!’ as he savor your release.

The man above you grinned as your body shake beneath him, having one of the hardest peak of your life, he pulled his fingers out of you with a satisfied smile— a proud one at that, having to see your essence coating not only the tabletop where all the lords that serve him now would sit to discuss the runs about the realm, about his reign but also covering his fingers. You’re a delectable delight, perfect molded whore, carefully shaped nymph for him. His.

Aemond stands up, intertwining both your fingers together to guide you to sit up— having been near insensate from your heightened senses, he had to support your spine as you shakily face him again— and his sight of you is one he can only describe of all Seven heavens in itself. You, a mess you are, silver hair mused and wild as if you had been on Valyx back, it cascades down the plane of your shoulder and back, your face is flustered, eyes droopy, unfocused, and lips, your lips pulled into a drunken kind of smile.

Oh, he has gotten you in a place where all you can do is take what he gives you. Fuck.

You, sweet pliant you, in the daze of your peak welcomes him gleefully when he presses a passionate kiss on your lips, feverishly moving your lips with his, you gasp as he bit your bottom lip, tongue entering to enter your wet cavern once more, before parting with a lewd pop! sound, “Syz riña.” good girl.

The gentleness of his actions are short lived though, Aemond smirks before you feel him manhandled you around, and bend you over the cold stone table, causing you to gasp in both surprise as well as feeling the chilling sensation on your tummy and up your overstimulated chest area, “Shh, no fussing.” He scolded you as if you’re a child, but his stern tone alone made your knee goes weaker.

You can hear the sound of his breeches being untied behind you, the sound alone has your neck craning to the side, your head pressed against the table and drags one of your leg upwards to graze against his legs, smiling to yourself in a post peak-haze state, “Hurry.”— that soft giggly voice of your demand surprises Aemond as he chuckled behind you, shaking his head at the gentle brattiness you let out.

“Aemond!” You yelped when you feel his hand coming down on your bottom, not once but three times in loud harsh succession— you lift your legs once more not out of teasing nature but to quell the pain and the oh so good feeling that comes from it, your cunt clenching around nothing as you arch, “Little girls who ran their mouth will not get anything but this, you hear me?” He said, palming your now reddened tender skin roughly, though the sensation makes you whimper.

“Of course you’d love that too, filthy girl.” He gives you no time to process his words before he tap the now hard leaking length against your opening, which makes you whine lewdly, he is pushing just slightly in, but not enough to even get half of his tip in, making you cry out in frustration, “Kostilus, lēkia.” Please, brother.

“Hm, I do love seeing you beg for it.” He hummed, pressing a kiss on the skin of your back, before breaching the tight opening of your cunt inch by inch, “Fuck, missed this tight cunt.” He grunts, feeling the way your walls sucking him in inside your warm heat.

The stretch caused you to wail and mewl “Tis too much—“ and, “too big!” if anything, the sound of your protests and the contradicting clench of your cunt around his cock is making him more feral— almost animalistic in how he thrusts harder inside you, before burying himself deep deep deep, head nudging the opening of your cervix with just the right amount of pain from the pleasure of being opened by his length, and pleasure from the way the curved tip hit your spongey spot with ease.

Aemond does not let you breathe much it seems, as he begin his fulfilling assault on your battered cunny, thrusting his length oh so deep before pulling, then slam it back in with vigorous pace, hitting all the right places even when his width alone made you shudder near your peak, “So good— oh!” You moaned, closing your eyes and arching your back, to which he responded with a hand yanking your silver locks tightly, the impossibly deep arch of your back has you both drunk on the feeling.

“Take it, take me.” He moaned in your ear, not once does he relent in his pace, always fucking into you harder, pounding you into oblivion, so much so that your cannot care anymore of who might heard what the of you are doing in the very same table he now commanded, he now holds the highest marble rank, the thought would exhilarate you further if you had not been so consumed by the way his cock reach your sweetest spot over and over again.

“Let them hear you, sweetling— fuck, let them know who you belong to, who is in fucking charge.” His words have double the meaning, that you can interpret perfectly, for he relinquish in the knowledge of claiming you, owning you, which you happily obliged, but he also needs to hear it from you that he has deserved this place, as the Prince Regent, that he has fully earned it, and shall lead the realm as his own.

“I belong to- Ah! you, My Prince…” Your voice is shaky in the wake of your nearing release, your velvety walls involuntarily clenched around him when his hips stuttered at the revelation that is you words, it seeped into his skin, thrumming along his veins— his grip on your hair and waist is tightening, for you are sure that your skin would be covered by his love marks by the morrow, but you did not care, let them see, let them know who rules the Seven Kingdoms, and who is steadfastly stood by his side, his Queen.

“Ao nykē perzōñi iksi, ābrazȳrys. Hen prānot hae mērȳ zālagon indīliks.” You and I are made of fire, wife. We have always been meant to burn together.

“Issa! zaldrīzo ānogar, Īlvon qumblī iāris.” Yes! blood of the dragon, ours runs thick. You replied in the midst of your clouded mind, his declaration has made you seen the stars that for a moment you thought you had been flying through the sky with Valyx, yet make no mistake, for his hips driving into you, and the way he snaked one of his arms down around you to rub at your pearl, instantly ground you back to earth, “Va sȳndroti vāedroma.” Joined as one. He whispered deeply, “Avy jorrālean, zaldrītsos.” I love you, little dragon.

“Come for me.” He rasped deep in your ear, that was the last restraint you have on you, as the combination of the never ending pounding of his cock inside your now oversensitive cunt has you curling your toes, the feeling of his fingers rubbing quick circle over your now engorged reddened nub has tears running down your face so prettily, so messily, painting the perfect picture of a ruined slut just for him.

You came with sobs escaping your lips, the plethora of whimpers of his name heightened the pressure inside the now sex smelling room, the sound of steps are loud from the grounds outside the keep, so does the sound of the occasional knight’s armors clanking, but all of that escaped your mind— too dumb speared on his length to give a fuck, your eyes closed as his hips faltered, feeling him shake above you at the telltale sign of his own impending release, you smiled drunkenly at the knowledge of your effect on him, “Give it to me, please, fill me up,” You mewled softly, finding every bit of your strength left to urge him, “Give me a babe, Aemond— mmh! let me give you an heir.”

Aemond groaned loudly at your words, “Fuck— fucking shit.” You have no idea what you have said to him, sweet girl, you have no idea how the thought of him marking you, both bound by blood, vow, and his seed inside you, does to him. You have no idea how much he wishes to always keep you full of his come, so you may be swelled with babes, because then nobody would ever question his claim over you, nor claim over the true line of Targaryen blood that is deserving of the Iron Throne.

He thrusted inside you one more time before stilling himself deep— so fucking deep inside you with his tip nudging your womb, and releases his seed inside of you with words of lewd affirmations spilling out of his lips, “Good girl, gonna watch you swell with my babe.” and, “Take it, little one, I’m yours— fuck!”

Your neck craned to the side as warmth filled your insides, smiling and biting your lips at the overwhelming sensation of both searing pain as well as being completely full of him, claimed and mark by him, undoubtedly his, “Avy jorrāelan, valzȳrys.” I love you, husband. You muttered, his eye still closed and his lips peppering small kisses along the plane of your back and your spine.

After some moment of calming down basked in silence, with only each other’s deep breathing, and him humming high Valyrian to your ears, he then slipped out of you, before turning you around and carry you to the where the chair for the King, or in this instance, the Prince Regent is located.

He sat down on it, with you laying on top of his lap in a fetal position, the crown of your head is tucked safely under his chin whilst his palm caresses the skin across your back and arms softly, “I hope I was not too rough.” He murmured against your hair, kissing at the messy silver strands lovingly.

“You were…” You mumbled, looking at him mischievously, he raised an eyebrow at you- biting the inside of his cheek awaiting your response, “But I like it.” Came your reply, cheeks flushed once more at the way he muttered something akin to “Fucking hell” under his breath.

“Aemond—“

“I will never put you in danger.” He said, eyes boring into yours, full of hope, full of promises, “Do you trust me?” His voice came out with a hint of vulnerability to you, almost like he bares his neck for you to bite if you so please.

You frown at this, “Of course,” You put your palm on his jaw, “Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo, rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi.” Vow spoken through time, of darkness and light. He smiled at your words, have long he had dreamed of binding your blood in the tradition of Old Valyria, he is perhaps the perfect devout son that worships the Seven, yet he is also very much connected to the blood of the dragon as you are with yours. Tis’ something he have vowed to do with you once the realm’s stability comes back.

“Do not be afraid.”

“With you? never again.”

It is true that you longed for nothing more than to be with him in a world of your own, in a world where there is no more bloodshed, in a realm where peace is known, no green— no black, just you and him— but you also know that it is wishful thinking, for you all have a part to play, you included, as Helaena has said before, if your part is to be the eye he had lost, if your part is to be his anchor, his devoted wife, his sweet sister, his lover, his destiny, then by his side is where you shall be.

For it is better to go to Seven hells and back with him, then to live in agony without him.

You’re bound by vow, by blood, by wounds, by heart, and most importantly by that invisible string of everlasting fire. You are meant to burn together.

[ellebakers]

☆ My love (+18)

Aemond Targaryen x reader (twin sister)

Summary : Being Aemond's twin sister is a good thing, he is gentle with you, always kind and affectionate because you are his twin but also his wife, but with the others, he is cruel and you have more than enough of it.

Warnings : Smut, slight angst, language, incest.

You would be his wife, that's what your mother Queen Alicent decided when she gave birth to you, three minutes after Aemond. And until today everything was perfect between you, obviously as a child there was only platonic love and joy, over the years this love was transformed into desire especially for Aemond who knew that you were going to be his but who had to watch you become a woman without being able to touch you, suffice to say that your wedding night was not very relaxing..

“To these three strong boys.”

You let out a sigh as you heard your husband's cruel words directed towards your nephews.

In a split second things escalated, Jace hit your husband and Aegon slammed Lucerys onto the table, everyone stood up, screaming and panicking.

Aemond wore a smirk as he turned to you, hoping to see you laugh at the situation, but it was a tired and cold look that you gave him, shaking your head.

You got up from the table and informed your mother "It's time for me to retire mother, have a good night."

Hearing your nonchalant tone of voice, Alicent offered you a sad smile "Of course my dear."

Aemond watched you leave the room, a little disappointed that you didn't appreciate his provocation.

You sighed and walked towards the nursery where one of the maids was sitting, watching your daughter, you smiled tenderly and whispered to the maid "You can go and rest, I'll keep Aenora in our marital bedroom."

The servant bowed "Of course princess, I inform you that Aenora does not want to drink my milk, it is possible that she will ask for it later."

You smiled and nodded, taking the little girl, only three months old, into your arms.

The small Valeryan looked at you, cooing as you stroked her cheek while taking her to your room.

When you arrived, Aemond was sitting on your bed, waiting for you, he raised his head when you entered. “I told myself that my wife had fled the castle.” He tried to joke.

You didn't bother to answer, settling into your reading chair you kept Aenora close to you, rocking her lightly.

“Did I do something to make you angry ?” Aemond asked with a hint of sadness in his voice.

You sighed. “Why do you have to be so cruel to everyone other than me ?”

He sat down next to you "You are my wife, the love of my life, I only need to be nice to you and our daughter."

You shook your head slightly and handed him Aenora. “Take her, I have to change.”

Aemond grabbed the baby and wrapped his arms around her, smiling tenderly at her as you stood up to take off your dress.

"You know what I'm talking about, why did you need to tell our nephews that ?"

Aemond scoffed "Because it's the truth, they're bastards."

You gave him a cold look. “Don’t use that kind of language in front of our daughter.”

He chuckled "She's four months old honey, she can't understand."

Once changed into your nightgown which left nothing to the imagination, you sat down again next to Aemond. “Even if that is true, why do you constantly need to remind this poor childrens of that ?"

Aemond scoffed, his jaw clenched. "Children? They're men, didn't you see the way Jacaerys was looking at your breasts ?"

You frowned a little, not paying attention to the way your nephew was looking at you. “What are you talking about ?”

"My love, you should stop thinking that everyone has good intentions. Jacaerys almost had a hard-on looking at your dress hugging your chest."

You slapped his shoulder, laughing lightly, “Stop.”

Aemond smiled "It's my role as a husband to protect you and if I can humiliate these.." He was about to say an insult but seeing your look he did nothing "Boys.. by the same opportunity, so I do it."

You rolled your eyes and smiled "You're stubborn, are you aware of that ?"

He smiled and kissed your lips “That’s why you love me.”

Aenora started to get agitated and cry, Aemond handed her over to you, understanding that the little girl was probably hungry.

You lowered the strap of your nightgown, letting your left breast come out, and the little girl hastened to put it in her mouth to extract the milk.

After a moment you saw Aemond moving out of the corner of your eye, pulling on his pants that were becoming too tight.

“Don’t tell me that seeing me breastfeed turns you on?”

Aemond couldn't help but moan "Can you blame me ? It's been a week since I've been able to touch you... do you have any idea of ​​the torture you're inflicting on me ?"

You couldn't help but laugh, "You're insatiable." Aemond came closer and nibbled on your neck making you moan slightly, thanks to the gods Aenora had finished drinking and was starting to fall asleep.

You gently placed him in his little bed, and as you turned to face Aemond, he threw himself at you, kissing you furiously.

You stepped back and fell on the bed, your twin took the opportunity to lift your nightgown, he pulled on your thighs, bringing you a little closer to him.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking up at him lustfully, he maintaining eye contact with you as he knelt down and attached his mouth to your pussy.

You gasped and threw your head back, your hand came to his hair instinctively, pushing his head a little closer to your pussy to feel even more pleasure.

“Lords.” You moaned and moved your hips as he continued to devour you, his tongue working magic as you arched up moaning harder each time, and when you felt the orgasm approaching you grabbed a pillow and put it on your move to cover your cry of pleasure so as not to wake Aenora.

Once recovered from your orgasm, you looked up at Aemond and saw him take off his pants, leaving him with his tunic, he grabbed his hard cock let his hand slide over it to harden it a little more, once ready he grabbed a pillow and put it under your pelvis, then, with these firm hands he grabbed your thighs and spread them a little further.

You closed your eyes and gasped as his length entered you slowly and deliciously.

“Still so tight.” He whispered to you, letting out a moan in your ear. “So hot, wet and good… you’re perfect.”

The act was so sensual and romantic, different from what he used to do before your daughter was born.

“Aemond.” You cried with pleasure.

He grabbed your thighs, wrapping them around his hips, he continued his slow and terribly delicious movements, you felt every inch of his length as he moved in and out.

"My love." He moaned, with his fingertips he pulled down the top of your nightgown, exposing your breasts to him, he grabbed the left breast, licking and sucking your nipple, extracting some of your milk while he massaged the other.

Having enough of his slow movements you swapped positions.

He let out a groan of pleasure, you placed your hand over his mouth "Shh, you're going to wake up Aenora." He smiled against your hand and gave you a thrust making you moan.

You started moving on his cock quickly making you moan mutually

"That's my little dragon." He groaned, running a hand over your face, letting his thumb brush over your lips, you grabbed it and sucked on it while looking at Aemond.

He growled and slid his hand between your legs, playing with your clit, and in no time he had a hand over your mouth as you came, letting out cries of pleasure.

It was up to you to shut him up with your lips on his mouth as he finished inside you after you clenched your pussy around his length.

You pulled yourself off of him and dropped to his side with one last moan, both of your bodies sweating, out of breath.

He turned and kissed your lips while caressing your breasts “I love you.”

"I love you too." You sighed, trying to catch your breath.

After a while you fell into a deep sleep, but before you fell asleep you heard Aemond's words as he stroked your hair.

My love...

[mythicmanuscripts]

god i love your writing so much. i saw your ask about the jealousy thing, what if it was the other way around and someone flirts with their wife and the wife just very pointedly and proudly introduces them. like "have you met my husband" like aemond or daemon is the sweetest person on the planet. for all our boys please.

Ooo I love this!!! I think I'm gonna write a little bit about a few different characters and then we can always expand on something or if you have your own thoughts then feel free to send them in!

AEGON:

As we all know, Aegon is extremely needy and very very much in love with his wife. The entire kingdom knows this, and they all know what an amazing change in Aegon you managed to bring out, but of course they arent stupid either, they know that Aegon is still prone to emotional outbursts.

I bring this up because all of the above means that people generally arent dumb enough to flirt with you, and certainly not to flirt with you when Aegon is in the room somewhere. Most people tend to think that if they tried anything with you then they'd be killed, which actually isnt the truth. Aegon would certainly be upset, but because of his insecurities he'd never try to hurt the other guy because if he's honest, the other guy would probably be a better husband than him anyway.

So when someone hits on you and you respond by actually calling him over? You motion for Aegon to come to you and of course he's on his way immediately. The moment he's next to you, you wrap your arm around his waist and give it a little squeeze. Then you introduce the man that was flirting with you to Aegon and say very clearly that you love your husband so much.

When the guy walks away Aegon is positivity BEAMING.

AEMOND:

Aemond is in complete shock when you respond to flirting by actually pointing him out? The shock comes from the fact that he's honestly never had anyone be fully satisfied with him alone and not think of him as second fiddle to his brother. He's never had someone actually be proud of him, and not just proud of his achievements but actually proud of him, as a person?

His stomach does several flips when he realises you're motioning to the man you're speaking to to look at him. You smile at him when he catches your eye and soon after the man walks away.

Aemond comes to you then and asks why you were pointing at him and you just smile and inform him that you the man you were speaking to was trying to get you be with him instead and so you just politely showed the man what a beautiful lovey husband you have and how no one else could ever come close.

Which... well done he's now crying in the ballroom.

JACE:

You learn pretty quickly that Jace's methods of dealing with emotions is the tried and true method of bottling them up until the bottle explodes in a massive mental breakdown before getting a new bottle and starting he whole process all over again. After a while he starts to come to you when he can feel he's beginning to struggle because then he knows you'll keep a close on him.

Besides just that, you also start trying to understand what triggers him and makes him this upset so that you can try to avoid it in some way. One such thing is when another hits on you, especially when they insinuate that they'd be a better husband because their lineage has never been in dispute.

Previously you thought the best way to handle this was just to turn the guy down and move on, often without telling Jace at all. But this runs the very real risk that if he does find out he will be devastated.

You have since found a way to stop the jealousy from impacting him at all, and that's why bringing him into the conversation and allowing him to hear you defend him.

[dyingswanpavlova]

Secret affairs || 》 Aemond Targaryen 《 OneShot

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x sister!reader

warnings: sorry guys, I'm new to this, I'd say probably mild smut? And also, incest between siblings obviously, a few curse words. Also the dinner scene is a little violent. Love y'all!

summary: Aemond has always found comfort in the loving arms of his sister, that's exactly what he does after his brawl with Jace at the family dinner.

It had been obvious, considering the ridiculous tension in the room. But the moment, Jace and Helaena started dancing, without Aegon bashing anyone's head in, I had considered us to be safe.

But Luke just had to laugh.

At him.

The moment he slammed his hand on the table, followed by a "final tribute", I knew we were done. But I also did not try to stop him. What good was there in it? I could not have prevented it anyway, he was too stubborn and too proud. My seemingly level-headed brother who also was also a brooding, ticking bomb, just waiting to explode.

"To these three...Strong...boys."

"I dare you to say that again."

"Why? 'twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?"

The next thing I saw was how Jace punched him right in the face. I instinctively jumped up - as if I could have done anything to help - but to no one's great surprise, Aemond did not even flinch. He did not even spill the wine from his goblet. The next moment, he tilted his head to the side and pushed Jace to the ground. Luke jumped up as well, only to have Aegon slam his head into the table.

Everyone was screaming and hissing wildly, but Aemond watched with a smug expression as guards pulled the boys back, only to be confronted by Rhaenyra and Daemon.

I finally woke up from my trance and rushed forward, gripping his elbow tightly.

"Was that really necessary?" I asked and sighed.

He was actually calm, which made the situation all the more unnerving. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at me.

"Jace swung first. I was merely speaking my mind. You should be happy.”

I rolled my eyes.

"That may be technically true, but we both know you provoked him. We barely made peace with them."

Aemond gave me a glare. He didn’t like when I was the logical one, especially when it came to the situation at hand.

“And why should I care? Luke’s a bastard.”

"Shh."

I grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the tumult.

"Are you trying to get your tongue cut out?"

He pulled his elbow out of my grip. He hated that.

“What? It’s the truth.”

He crossed his arms again. So stubborn. I hated that.

"I know it's the truth. But don't you remember the last time we discussed this so openly, hm?" I pointed at his eye patch. "Mother barely talked father out of having you sharply questioned, just hours after you lost your eye. Aemond..." I lowered my voice.

"Father will always be on their side, you know that."

He was silent for a brief moment, before rolling his eye in annoyance.

“I am perfectly aware of that.”

He huffed before grabbing my arm and pulling me behind one of the pillars so no one would overhear.

Behind the pillar he was closer to me than he had been all night. His one hand was on my arm, keeping it from moving, but the other was gently placed on my waist, to keep me in place as well. His face was completely stoic, yet I could tell there was anger and frustration bubbling up within him.

“I am not an idiot. I know father does not care about me or any of us. I am well aware that he would choose Jace or Luke over us, any day.”

My expression softened and I gently touched his cheek.

"I know they're bastards, Aemond. And I'm not angry at you for provoking that fight. I'm just worried about you."

His body seemed to relax as I touched his cheek. Yet, he stubbornly still refused to show any proper emotions.

“Worried about me? I can take care of myself. You don’t need to protect me.”

"Yes, I do. In fact, we need to stand up for each other. You, Aegon, Helaena, mother and me. Because no one else cares about us." I said firmly.

He hated admitting it but I was completely correct. He did not speak for a moment. He still held me close, refusing to let go even as he looked at me.

“That does not change the fact that they are bastards. That does not change the fact that Jace will be heir to the throne one day, simply because Rhaenyra is a whore.”

"Aemond." I said sharply and glanced around. Everyone was busy chattering wildly in a mess.

He grunted as he moved towards me, pinning me lightly against the pillar with his body. His hands went to my waist, just to hold me in place as he bent his head so it was next to my ear.

“You may be the only person I love in this family, but that does not mean I will not speak the truth if I want to.”

I closed my eyes.

"I..."

I swallowed.

"I'm not asking you to stop. Just...not here. If someone overheard that, Aemond...It would be considered treason." I said quietly.

His one, amethyst coloured eye shut as his head stayed close to mine. His body was still pressed against me, keeping me trapped between him and the pillar.*

“You are too soft, you know that? Too scared. Father would not care if someone overheard us.”

I scoffed.

"Father would have our tongue cut out in no time if it meant he would protect Rhaenyra and his precious succession."

He growled softly in annoyance as he pulled away from me, still keeping me caged in with his arms, but not as close as before.

“Damn him. One of his bastard grandchildren could do the worst thing in the world and he would still protect them until he dies. But then he would not bat an eye if anything happened to any of us. I mean hell, I lost an eye and he did not give a damn.”

"Do not remind me." I almost hissed. I remembered that day vividly. Aemond did not even shed a single tear, except for when the panic coursed through his body, right after it had happened. Later on he only said Do not mourn me mother. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon. While I had spent all night sobbing.

He heard my hiss, and he immediately felt guilty. He knew that day effected me, maybe more than it effected him. His voice had become much softer as he spoke again.

“I have not forgotten the look on your face.”

He gently grabbed my chin, forcing my head up gently to look at him.

“It was like you were the one who lost an eye.”

I reached out and gently trailed my fingertips along the outline of his eyepatch.

"If only it had been me." I said quietly.

His eye shut as I grazed his eyepatch. He hated when I said things like that.

“Do not ever say that.”

He suddenly grabbed my wrist, so I would stop touching the eyepatch. He could tolerate a lot of things being said about his missing eye, but the one thing he could not take was when I made that comment.

He gripped my wrist tightly as he continued to hold it. He could still remember how upset I was that night. How I cried and cried and how nothing he could say seemed to calm me down. He even remembered holding me that night, just so I would calm down.

He pulled my arm gently, forcing me flush against him once more as he leaned down so he was once again close to my ear.

“The look on your face that night, seeing me all bloodied up and missing my eye…I do not want to ever see that look on you again.”

I sighed deeply. "I felt like I was dying."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his chest to hide it. I sniffled softly but somehow I had to smile.

"I still cannot believe you had to comfort me."

He instinctively wrapped his arms around my waist when I held onto him. He even smiled slightly as well as I buried my face in his chest.

“You could not handle the sight. You are too soft and emotional.” He teased.

I shook my head.

"It was not the sight that made me go insane that night. It was...you. It happened to you of all people."

Aemond’s heart skipped a beat when he heard me say that. He was quiet for a brief second. A thousand feelings and thoughts passed through his mind. Yet his voice was quiet and soft, almost sheepish even after a second.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I pulled my head back and gently cupped his face in my palms.

"It means, I love you and you got hurt that day. And that almost killed me." I said quietly.

He felt a shiver go down his spine when I gently cupped his face. No one had ever touched him, especially his scarred face, with that sort of gentleness. No one but me. He found himself leaning into my touch, his eye closing for a moment.

“It is just an eye, Venice.”

His voice was uncharacteristically soft. He hated feeling vulnerable. It was one of his only weaknesses- me.

"Not to me." I whispered back.

He was silent again. He suddenly felt like that night again. When I had cried and begged and pleaded for him to be more careful. How I had wrapped his face in a cloth and tended to his eye, while trying to keep his face hidden from others.

His voice was still soft, as if something in his mind had suddenly snapped. He swallowed as his hands held onto my waist.

“You love me too much, you know that?”

I smiled gently.

"I am well aware." I said quietly. "I cannot help it."

He was quiet for a moment, soaking in my words, soaking in my touch. He suddenly pulled me fully against his body. My head tucked under his chin so he could hold me as close to him as he could.

“You are being ridiculous.”

Yet he could not deny that he craved my love and affection all the time. He was desperate for my attention.

I laughed softly.

"And you are an emotional cripple." I teased.

He chuckled lowly as he held me even closer with one arm, while the other hand went to my waist once more. He suddenly grabbed a little tighter at my hip. He loved my teasing. No one had ever spoken to him in such ways before. He knew our father might not even give us a second glance if we were suddenly dead. Mother was trying. In her own way. And failing.

“I am not an emotional cripple. You are just annoying. An annoying brat.”

I smiled warmly and pinched his cheek.

"I know you are not. I was teasing you."

He grunted and made a face as I pinched his cheek. He tried to act annoyed, yet he was actually quite fond of my touch. He suddenly pinched my on your rib, in the same place he knew I was ticklish. Accidentally, of course.

I laughed breathlessly and swatted his hand away.

"Hey!"

“Whoops.”

He said nonchalantly, as if it really was an accident. However he smirked when I swatted his hand away.

"Careful now, little sister. I may have to start tickling you for real.”

I smirked and looked up at him.

"You better not, you know? I fight back."

I bit my lip and my expression turned more serious when I heard how mother apologized to Rhaenyra on our behalf behind the pillar. I sighed and buried my face in his chest again.

"Can I come over later?" I asked quietly.

It was not uncommon. Ever since the eye incident, I would sleep in his bed ever so often. Being near him made my nightmares go away. I felt like the older we got, the more inappropriate it felt, so I would normally sneak into his room after dark.

We had gotten...close, a few times, but I had never misinterpreted it as something meaningful. We simply needed each other...Or at least that was what I told myself.

He quickly noticed my changed demeanor when he heard our mother. He could have scoffed at them, but he was more focused on me at the moment. I looked troubled, clearly upset. He nodded subtly as I asked to come over later. He tried to sound unbothered and indifferent as he responded.

“As if I mind.”

His heartbeat was picking up. Me sneaking over at night had become more normal in the past couples years, ever since he had lost his eye. He would never admit it to out loud, but I knew he preferred having me in his bed.

He glanced down at me as I buried my face into his chest. He suddenly felt extremely protective. He was aware of how inappropriate it probably was to continue having me sleep in his bed. However he was too stubborn to stop it. He had almost become dependent on it over the years, especially after I started becoming much more affectionate towards him as well.

He placed a hand on the back of my head and gently played with my hair as he held le close.

“You are such a needy little brat.”

I smiled faintly.

"But only to sleep." I whispered, not sounding too convincing to my own ears.

He smirked slightly once more as I whispered that to him. He was amused at the fact that I was trying to insist that I only needed him to sleep, and that it was all it was. He was not stupid. He caught all the affectionate gestures, the stares, the looks I would give him. He could tell I was just as dependent on him as he was on me.

“Of course. Only to sleep.”

He said in a sarcastic tone, trying his best to hide the fact that he enjoyed having me in his bed.

I swallowed hard and bit my lip. I intertwined my fingers with his.

"I mean it. We will simply sleep. We cannot continue to..."

I closed my eyes.

"You know what I mean."

That was what I said ever so often and a few days later we would fall back into our old patterns.

He raised an eyebrow when I linked my fingers with his. He could not help but get a little annoyed at the fact that I kept insisting that we both would not do more than sleeping together. He let out a quiet sigh through his nostrils.

“Yes. Only sleep. I got it.”

He responded again in a sarcastic tone. He knew deep down I would probably not keep the promise of never going further. I never did.

As I was holding his hand, he suddenly gave it a slight squeeze. He was growing irritated at how badly he wanted me at that very moment. He did not like the way I made him feel so needy and desperate.

“Just come over after dark, as usual.” He finally spoke again, his voice low and soft. He was trying his best to sound nonchalant about it.

I nodded and squeezed his hands back.

"I will go to my chambers. Promise me you will not get into any more fights tonight?" I said teasingly but there was a hint of concern in my voice as my fingertips gently trailed along his bruised chin.

He rolled his eye and chuckled lowly, finding my request amusing- although he knew deep down I was only half joking. He leaned into the touch of my fingers on his face. He would never be able to say no to me when I was sweet and affectionate with him.

“I promise to be on my best behaviour. No fights, no insults, no snide remarks. I shall behave with the most decorum tonight.”

I smiled sweetly and looked at him for a moment longer before I gently withdrew from his embrace and left the dining hall with quick steps.

*

He reluctantly let me go when I pulled away from his embrace. He wanted me to stay, to continue feeling my body against his and my skin under his fingertips. However he knew it was best to not take the risk of someone seeing us two like that.

He immediately felt antsy and irritated once I was out of sight. All throughout the rest of the dinner, he fidgeted and was restless. He felt extremely distracted. The bastards were back in their quarters, but Aemond could not get his mind off something else entirely.

Once in my room, I took a quick bath and got myself ready for the night. I put on a white nightdress and a white robe. Then I sat down on the bed to read until I was sure that everyone was finally deep asleep. When I thought it to be late enough, I closed my book, opened the door and rushed through the corridor with quick, quiet steps until I reached the door to his bedroom. My steps echoes through the hall, but no soul was close by. I did not bother to knock and quickly vanished inside his bedchambers.

He was laying on his bed, wide awake and reading a book as he waited for me. He had already changed into his nightwear: an all black, satin robe that he wore with nothing underneath. He was slightly frustrated already, having grown very eager and desperate to have me in his arms again. That frustration faded slightly as the door slowly creaked open and I appeared.

He shut his book and set it on the bedside table as soon as he saw me. He sat up, his eye watching me as I practically scurried over to the bed.

He watched as I climbed into his bed on all fours. His heart was beating faster than normal and he was growing impatient. He immediately grabbed me by the hips and pulled me onto his lap. He was in dire need of having me close, having me in his lap, with my legs on either side of his hips.

He was still frustrated and a little irritated, as he wrapped his arms around me in an almost possessive way. His eye darkened as he took in my figure in the white nightdress.

I wrapped my arms around him and rested my head on his shoulder.

"How was the rest of the dinner?" I muttered.

He let out a sigh, suddenly feeling much, much calmer now that I was in his arms, on his lap. He gently cupped the back of my head and ran his fingers through my hair in a soothing motion. He responded in a low, gruff tone as his eye was still darkened with lust - however, he was trying his best to hide it at the moment.

“It was fine. Aegon was as drunk and as unruly as usual. And Rhaenyra was as stubborn and bitchy as always.” He almost spat the last line, as he had never gotten along with our older half-sister.

I smiled faintly.

"So I did not miss much."

He hummed in acknowledgment as he continued to run his hand through my hair. He was growing more and more eager as he was holding me on his lap. He could already feel his body reacting to my closeness. It was driving him insane having me in his lap, wearing such a sheer and revealing nightdress.

“Just the usual. Nothing of worth happened.” He responded in a slightly distracted tone, as he suddenly grabbed my hips a little harder with his hands.

I closed my eyes. I felt how his body reacted to my proximity and of course, my own did, too.

I swallowed and tried to keep my tone nonchalant. To at least try to stick to my earlier words.

"That is good." I said quietly. "Are you in pain? That punch was pretty nasty, but you did not even flinch."

His eye darkened even more when he heard me question him about his injury, specifically about if it was painful or not. He suddenly gripped my hips even harder, his fingers digging into my skin just barely as he shifted me in his lap, grinding me against him.

“I am unharmed. It was a light punch. I have had worse brawls even with Aegon."

He responded, his eye not leaving the way his hands were gripping my hips, the way my sheer nightdress was almost slipping over my thighs.

I could not help the small gasp that left my lips.

He chuckled lowly when he heard that gasp from me, knowing that he had finally gotten me to slip up and give in to him. He suddenly leaned in against my ear, his breath hot and tickly against me as he spoke in a low, gruff tone.

“Does my needy little sister need me?”

He teased me, as he started slowly grinding me against his lap once again, making sure to make me feel how I was affecting him.

A shiver ran down my spine and I let out the softest whimper. Oh, and how I needed him.

"But...Aemond...I thought, we said..." I protested weakly.

He smirked at the way I was already quivering in his arms from his simple touches, and at the way I mewled and whimpered softly as he ground me against him and his lap. It was like music to his ears, watching me lose my composure so quickly.

“I do not care what you said earlier. We both know you need me just as much as I need you.”

He responded with a harsh tone, and he roughly grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

He leaned closer to me, his breath still hot and tickling as it came against my neck now. He roughly grabbed both of my hips with his hands and pulled my body even more tightly against his. He let out a small hiss as he felt my heat rubbing against him, making him feel desperate and needy.

I let out a soft moan and rested my forehead against his shoulder.

"Ah, shit." I whispered breathlessly.

He smiled faintly at my soft moan, his hands grabbing and squeezing my hips roughly as he pulled me even closer to himself. He started slowly grinding me against his lap, the pressure against his own aching length making him even more desperate and needy than he already was.

“Tsk, I told you this was what was going to happen if you came to me. You just cannot resist me, admit it.” *He whispered against my neck, biting and sucking it harshly, leaving marks all the way up to my jawline.

He continued to bite and suck on my neck, leaving a trail of dark marks from my neck to my jaw, marking me as his. He started breathing hard against my skin, desperately gripping m, hips and grinding me against him. He was slowly losing his patience and his control.

“I hope you don’t mind wearing a few extra pretty accessories tomorrow to cover up your neck.” He said in a sarcastic tone in between kisses.

I could not help myself. I rolled over and pulled him along, wrapping my legs around his waist.

"Idiot." I whispered breathlessly. "Last time I was covered in hickeys and bite marks for days. It was so hot outside and I had to run around, covered like a Septa. Mother was so suspicious."

He let out a low chuckle against my neck as I pulled him over with me. He immediately grabbed my legs and held them tightly with his hands. He was completely desperate now that I had initiated the move and started to practically take control of the situation.

"I remember. It was hilarious.” He responded with a smirk, still remembering the fun he had whenever he saw a new bruise he had left on my neck or any exposed skin. I ignored his idiocy.

"Kiss me." I whispered and impatiently started undoing the buttons of his night shirt.

He smirked once again when he heard me demand for him to kiss me, and again when he felt me starting to undo the buttons of his nightshirt.

“So impatient…”

He muttered, as he leaned down and finally started to kiss me in a deep, passionate way. It was a kiss full of desperation, all tongue and teeth. He started getting more and more frustrated as he felt me trying to undo his shirt, but just could not quite do it fast enough.

He grabbed one of my hands and suddenly yanked it away from his buttons, pinning it above my head on the pillow. He was now in the position of power, taking back some of the control that I had grabbed from him, and also frustrated at my lack of speed in undressing him.

“Be patient. You are acting like a spoiled child.” He mumbled against my lips in between messy kisses. He started sucking and biting my bottom lip, wanting to hear me mewl from pain and pleasure, which I quickly did.

I moaned softly against his lips and let out a soft whine.

"Come on, do not make me wait. I have not felt you in days." I whispered pleadingly.

He smiled faintly against my lips at the sound of my whiny and pleading tone. He enjoyed how impatient I was, how desperate I was to have him. It was always a massive boost to his ego whenever I expressed just how much I craved him, just how much I needed him.

“You are so whiney.” He mumbled against my mouth again, before quickly ripping the buttons of his nightshirt open, desperate to get it off.

He pulled the buttons all the way, completely opening up his nightshirt and exposing his upper body to me. He was desperate to feel my touch, to feel my hands on his skin, and he was desperate to feel my body against his as well.

“There you go, princess. Happy now?”

He muttered, in a sarcastic tone, before leaning down and kissing me again.

I let out a shuddery breath and kissed him hard while my hands impatiently roamed around his exposed chest.

He smirked against my lips at the way I was roaming my hands all over his chest hungrily. He enjoyed the feeling of my hands raking across his skin, the way I was desperate to touch him, to feel him, and he was desperate to feel me as well.

"Gods, you are so needy… and impatient… always desperate for me to give you what you want, are you not?”

He mumbled against my lips in between messy kisses.

"I cannot help it. You ruined me." I whispered as my lips found his neck.

He let out a low, stifled moan as I started to kiss and suck on his neck. He closed his eye, relishing the feeling of my lips against his skin and the way my body squirmed under him, wanting him. He was losing control and I was only making it worse.

“I know I did… and you are not complaining, are you?”

He responded as he tightened his hold on the hand that he was holding above my head on the pillow, still pinning me down, on my back, beneath him.

He shifted and moved himself lower on the bed so he could lay in between my legs. He started kissing and nipping at my neck, slowly sucking on the skin, leaving a mark, as he started grinding himself against me again.

"You are all mine, princess. You do not need anybody else - you will be mine, always.”

He started whispering in my ear, still grinding and rubbing himself against me, feeling how my body responded instantly to his touch, to his voice in my ear.

I rolled my eyes.

"Do I look like I am complaining?"

I smirked and gently bit his earlobe, only to whisper: "You ruined me. You compromised me. You turned me into a needy, naughty mess. And I loved every second of it."

He let out another low moan as I whispered that statement in his ear. It was like music to his ears, hearing me admit just how desperately I belonged to him and him alone. He smirked, knowing just how much he had completely changed me, how I had been completely transformed, how he had completely conquered me.

He shifted a little, still laying in between my legs, and he started grinding his hips against me harder as he responded.

"And I take great pleasure in the fact that I did that to you.”

"Oh God-" I moaned softly and immediately my hands went down to undo his pants.

He could not hold back the grin on his face when he saw my hands start to hurriedly undo his pants, clearly getting frustrated with the buttons and buckles. He loved how desperate I was for him, how much I wanted him, and how I was getting impatient with the speed.

“So impatient… so needy… desperate for me, are you not?”

He teased and taunted in a gruff, lust-filled tone.

"Aemond, do you not dare tease-"

When I realized he wore nothing underneath, I laughed.

"So much for only sleeping. You planned this."

He let out a low, amused laugh at my reaction when I realized that he was completely naked beneath his pants. He smirked in response to that comment, loving the fact that I had just realized how much he had planned this out. How he had made sure he was ready for me.

“You know me so well, princess. Do you really think that I would just be lying here, fully clothed, waiting for you to come, knowing you would not be able to resist me?”

He responded with a taunting, teasing, tone.

He smirked again, watching the expression on my face before he started to quickly move himself back up towards me and leaned in close to my ear.

“You should know by now that the only thing I am ever thinking about is you… I cannot get you out of my head… the way you look… the way you react when I touch you… the way you moan and cry for me…”

He started whispering in my ear, still grinding against me as he talked.

"Please." I whispered breathlessly. "I...I need you, Aemond. Now."

He could not ignore the pleading and desperate tone in my voice as I whispered to him how I needed him. He loved it. He loved when I got needy and desperate for him and he could not deny that it was turning him on, making him want and crave me as well.

“Beg for me then, princess… beg and I will give you everything you want.”

He responded, in a deep, lust-filled, voice, still grinding against me as he continued to tease and taunt me.

He felt how my body was squirming and writhing beneath him, how I was so desperately trying to touch him, to touch his body. He loved how needy I was becoming, how I was completely falling apart beneath him, completely under his control.

“Go on, my dear… beg for me… if you want me… if you need me… beg me for it.”

He responded, still taunting and teasing me with his deep tone, still grinding against my aching heat, but not giving me quite what I so desperately wanted.

"Please." I whispered, swallowing my pride. "Please, I am begging you, Aemond. Let me feel you."

He felt his control slipping when he heard my pleading, the way I was begging him, the way I was clearly desperate to feel him. My pleading tone, my desperate words, were all feeding his ego.

“Gods, I love it when you’re pleading for me… begging for me like that… desperate for me to give you what you want…My naughty little love." He responded, still taunting and teasing, but his own need and want growing stronger by the second. He could not deny how badly he wanted me as well.

That was when he decided not to torture me any longer. He positioned himself above me and I finally felt him - teasingly, almost painfully slow.

"Oh God, Aemond-"

I let out a shuddery gasp and buried my hands in his silky hair.

He could not tease and taunt me anymore once he had felt me as well. He had teased and edged us both long enough, bringing us both to the brink of desire, and now he could not hold back any longer. He started pushing himself against me, taking his time, and going painfully slow.

“Gods, I’ve wanted this… I’ve craved this all day… I’ve been desperate for you all day…”

He gasped out in a deep and lust-filled tone.

He felt my hands immediately reach out and grab onto his hair, holding on tightly, and he could not hold back a moan at the feeling of my fingers digging into his scalp.

“Gods, I have missed you, sweetheart."

He muttered out between gasps as he continued to push himself against me, still going as painfully slow as possible, to tease me more.

"Please, Aemond. Do not tease me. Not right now." I gasped out.

He smiled.

And then he made me his. Again and again.

And again.

Until the only thing my lips could form was his name.

And on the next day we promised that all we would do would be to sleep.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

I love your writing!! Could you do a short 1 or 2 part fiction based on this prompt: a highborn girl is to become Aemond's wife but she is a mute. Her other senses are well even though she isn't able to speak. She is youngest in her family and is extremely shy. No fiery bone in her body. Alicent coaxes her son into being betrothed to her due to Alicent having issues with high-born ladies not wanting to marry the prince due to his eye missing and his tendency to have a temper. They bond over reading and Aemond is enthralled with her beauty. Also Aemond never is a kinslayer in this story lol. Thank you!

Her Voice

Summary: You are introduced with the prince as his second option for a marriage in your family. But how will the Prince react to you own affliction | Mini-Series Masterlist

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

A/N: I changed the request up a little and it's strange that I got this ask because I do actually have a stutter myself that was debilitating growing up, so I tried to shoehorn some feelings that I felt myself into this character, but hopefully I still did it justice (and I made it more about her intelligence cos I think Aemond would find that hot)?

Thank you for the request anon! Also thank you all for your love and comments I really love them! I can’t comment on them since this is a side-blog, but I appreciate you all! 

Warnings: none, just fluff, Aegon being Aegon

"Do you think that any highborn woman with a brain between her eyes would desire to spend the rest of her life with a tempestuous prince?"

Alicent was circling the room, hands smoothing over one another to keep herself calm, doing this in exchange of picking at her fingernails, which her father hated. And with Otto sat brooding in the corner of the room, Alicent chose her actions wisely.

Aemond barely resisted the urge to roll his eye, one hand rested on one side of his face, disinterested. Another reprimand for his temper, his behaviour. He didn't realise his mother had it in her to keep on doing this for so long, especially after having a son like Aegon. But even then, her solution had been to marry him to his sister, and it was clear how well that ended. And how Aegon's actions persisted.

"Perhaps if they were not so empty-headed they would know to leave me be"

"Like it or not, you will be wed" Otto butted in, resulting in Aemond sending an annoyed glare, "It has been difficult enough to introduce ladies to you"

"Because they think me a monster" Aemond retorted, one hand gripping the arm of the chair beside him. His mother was still pacing around, a million thoughts banging around in her brain, working endlessly on how to resolve this. In truth, he did not enjoy seeing his mother in such distress and his heart to see her in this way more often than not.

"That is not true, Aemond" Alicent's voice was soft, as if he were still a child.

"True enough that it whispers through the court"

"A marriage and children with her would mean security in the Reach" Otto said simply. His mind forever focussed on matters political and never of the heart. Alicent was proof of this and at this quip, Aemond could see the discomfort it bought her.

"I do not wish to marry that loud-mouthed half-wit"

Every time Aemond protested, he could see his mother begin pacing around the room once more.

"At this rate, half the ladies in Westeros will have met that beast before you"

Aemond extended a hand out with a sigh, "It is no fault of mine that she is scared of Vhagar"

"It nearly landed on top of her, Aemond!" Alicent begged out and Aemond genuinely had to hold back a smile as he imagined Vhagar pinning the girls dress to the ground with her large claw. It had scared the girl stiff and her loud-mouthed was quickly stiffened from the presence of the largest dragon in the world before her. Her face pale as a sheet.

"Vhagar did not like her" he simply responded.

A moment passed in silence and Aemond nearly stood to leave when Alicent crossed her arms, her warm, brown eyes trained at her second son. Half in pride and half in scolding.

"There is of course, another choice" Alicent suggested quietly, taking a side glance at her father.

Now stood before his mother, seeing over her easily, he placed his arms behind his back, a brow was arched in not only question but anxiety at her suggestion.

"She has a younger sister, only half a year younger than you"

Aemond scoffed, "This is desperation"

"It is a suggestion" Alicent corrected. In front of her son, she seemed so small as she took his large hand in both of hers, her rings clicking together to rub her fingers over his skin, "See how you feel"

With a sigh, he took his leave.

There was no harm in trying.

The days seemed to pass the slowest and the Prince busied himself as he usually did, performing his duties. He trained with Ser Criston, he read books on various subjects and he rode on Vhagar in an attempt to tame this temper his mother so wanted gone. One that she thought would be solved by marriage.

But one insufferable thing he could never escape from, was court gossip.

It seemed so rampant and neverending that he wondered if the ladies ever did anything else.

On more than one occasion he heard the ladies talk in hushed whispers when he walked by.

"I heard his dragon almost ate her"

"I do not see what woman would want a man who looks like that"

"I think he looks rather handsome with it"

"Yes, but he has a quarrelsome temper. Blood of the dragon indeed"

"I heard her little sister is to join the court. His dragon may actually swallow her whole with any luck"

"She is a hollow little fool. I heard she has not spoken a word since she was a babe"

He knew better than to listen to any of it. But it seemed to impregnate the walls of the Keep, like a smell that won't go away. Slowly seeping out of the stone to skulk in heavy plunders of smoke across their feet. It smelled of deception and the feeling was so heavy, it was almost liquid.

Like oily blood.

He had barely paid attention to his mother as they all lined up outside the Keep, anticipating the sister's arrival. The older sister had been closest to the dirt road, wanting to see her siblings and father before anyone else. The Royals were all standing shoulder to shoulder at the top of the stone steps, Aemond's eye trained forwards, not focussed on anything in particular. Aegon wishing he were somewhere else, preferably at the end of a barrel of Dornish wine. And Helaena, whose gaze never found anyone's, staring at the ground, watching the ants disappear beneath her slipper.

Alicent almost jumped out of her skin as the lady screamed in delight seeing the familiar colours of her house on the side of the carriage, pulling up to a stop. Aemond's chest inflated and he tightened his grip behind his back, bracing for the undoubtedly emotionally painful exchange he was about to have.

The carriage door flung open and two brothers emerged, clearly a lot older than the sister had been, but nonetheless they scooped her up into a hug. Aemond raised an eyebrow and dared look over at his own brother, who was smiling back at him already, as if suggesting they should hug like that. And at this Aemond did roll his eye.

The three siblings were stuck like this for a moment, talking over and amongst each other like a clutter of turkeys and it was impossible to tell what they were actually saying. The father eventually found his footing outside the carriage, a small figure following small behind him, head lowered. The older sister wrapped her arms around her father's neck but she was quickly pushed away, and not a single one of them seemed to address the youngest, who blindly followed her father.

"Queen Alicent" the father addressed, taking her hand in his to kiss at the ring.

"My Lord, how nice it is to see you and your…family again" she swallowed her words and her roundabout manner made Aegon smile somewhat.

"And you, your Grace. I hope my daughter has been a grateful guest"

There was a faint echo in the background of her horrific laugh, the father closed his eyes slowly, bracing himself for the sound of it.

Alicent merely smiled, "I understand we are to receive your other daughter"

The father stepped aside, but the figure still remained relatively hidden, "Yes, although she is the slowest of my daughters, your Grace. She…finds it difficult to speak"

The father looked behind him again and gripped his other daughter's arm and Aemond noted how hard he held her, so much so that when he tore away the marks remained. And he wondered if he was so rough with his other daughter, the one he thought was the grace of his house.

The girl was presented before Alicent. Yes she shared features with her sister, but hers were much were smoothed out. Her sister, while sharp featured and cheeks plump, her eyes were too close together and her nose seemed unfit for her face. This sister however, her cheekbones were higher and eyes were almond-shaped and she had a faint mole next to her eye on one side.

Her eyes briefly met Alicent's and sent a small smile and a curtsy, doing the same to the Princes and Princess, but never really meeting any of their gazes directly.

"Your Grace, my youngest"

Aemond almost scoffed, he didn't even have the decency to address her by her birth name.

"As I say, your Grace, she is quite slow but her mind is nimble, her other senses remain…unaffected"

All the young woman could do was listen to her father's cruel words about her, her hands were clasped in front of her, one finger fiddling with a golden ring that was on a forefinger. Aemond's gaze raked over her form, the dress she wore just being a bit too tight and he wondered if it might have been in her ownership for a while and had grown too big for it. This made her chest swell against the fabric and her could not help but admire the way she fit into it as she inhaled and exhaled, the golden necklace against her chest moving as well.

It was as if she could feel his burning eye on her and her hand raised to her necklace to turn the pendant over, her gaze briefly meeting the one-eyed Prince's before her cheeks became flushed and averted instantly. In a strange turn of events, it made Aemond smirk, knowing that someone would blush in his presence.

"If you'd like to follow me, I can introduce you to the King" Alicent stepped side to side with her father, "Perhaps your children might amuse themselves"

Her father turned to face his children, a haggard expression on his face, "Make yourselves scarce"

The young woman merely watched as her siblings waltzed away without her, no doubt to drown themselves in drink. And she stood for a moment watching them enjoy themselves before feeling a hand grasp her elbow to find Aegon's face close to hers. She made a surprised sound.

"Extraordinary" he murmured, pulling the poor thing to walk with him, "How much I would give to have a woman who did not speak back"

She attempts to push herself away, but he was much stronger.

"I bet that mouth is as disgusting as those whores on the Street of Silk"

A hand clamped at Aegon's shoulder, shoving him away and the woman looked back to find Aemond parting the two with his body, a hand brushing against her arm to place her behind him.

"Brother, I do not think she desires your company"

With a focussed eye zoned in on his brother, Aemond failed to notice that she had himself wrapped his hand around her wrist. A wave of heat rose to her face s she looked down and saw how his large fingers easily took her, feeling the sheer body heat of the Prince next to her, so much so that she was able to smell the various musks that had attached themselves to him. A faint smell of leather from his clothes, whatever he used for his long, illustrious hair and then something akin to being around an animal. Was this what dragon smelled like? She wondered if he had been riding before meeting her family.

His touch was easily softer than Aegon's grip had been, and for this she was grateful. He had been the first man to lay a hand on her that had not been forceful. The brothers continued to bicker.

"She is not deaf, Aegon. She can hear you"

"Deaf or not, she is a simpleton. If you are to marry her, do yourself a favour and find comfort in others, as I do"

All the blood seemed to rush to your ears in embarrassment and you tore your wrist away from the prince, turning swiftly on your heel in the other direction, away from the harsh words you had unfortunately become accustomed to. Your steps were swift as you heard Aegon cackle with laughter, but you did not see Aemond's saddened stare bore into your back.

With a book clutched longingly to your chest and the echoes of your already drunken siblings echoing down the halls, you pushed a hand to the library door, finding comfort in the quiet of this room in the chaos that was the Red Keep.

It had of course, not been your first time here. You had accompanied your sister on her journey many moons ago, and even then you felt the stares of those at the court boring into you like a flame. The hushed whispers of those were not lost on you, perhaps they also thought you were deaf. But it didn’t matter. You heard the horrible things the ladies said about you and equally, the awful things the men said as well. Although some of those had been about other matters.

Contrary to popular belief, you were not entirely mute. A lot of it was purely by choice. And you had become accustomed to the silence, for simply trying to speak, becoming out of breath and tight about the chest, gave you more anxiety than simply saying nothing at all.

You sighed in relief, finding the library completely empty and almost just how you had left it all those months ago, when you had come here for relief after your sister had accustomed herself to the ladies.

The book, which you had been in the middle of reading last time you were here, was still perched on top of the fireplace in the heart of the room, with a piece of paper sticking out in the spot where you had been rudely torn away. Your hand grazed over the cover, feeling all the intricacies of the people who may have read it before you. The spine was slightly worn away, and the fabric that coated the front page was discoloured. But it was the book smell that enticed you so and you opened where you were to bring to the pages to your face.

It smelled like home. Like a solitary childhood.

It reminded you of who you were.

Someone so disenchanted with life that they would lose themselves in books, fiction or not.

You lifted your skirts, inhaling sharply as the corseted part of the gown dug into you for being too small. Your father refused the request for new dresses, so you had to make do. After all, it was your older sister who was supposed to be enamouring the Prince, not you. So what need was there for fine dresses.

The chair hugged you, its fabric arms tucking you in like a bed and you laid the book before you to pick up where you had left off, the only sound in the room being the flickering of some candles and the uncomfortable sound of your finger tracing the next page.

You had been so interested in your book, the large oak doors opened without a reaction from you.

"I know you are not deaf, my Lady"

The voice startled you, and your head popped round the back of the chair to see the Prince standing closely, smirking and arms tucked behind him. A surprised sound left you as you stood, the book that had been placed on your lap hurtling to the floor as well as a small notebook you had been clutching. Your cursed yourself for the clumsiness but offered him a curtsy all the same before bending to retrieve the books.

He seemed to move too quickly for his stature and had his hand flat on the book before you had even reached out. Turning it over he smiled, bringing the book with him stand,

"Ah, so it was you"

You grasped the small notebook in your hand and stood to meet his gaze, eyes slightly wide with fear. As if he had caught you in his grasp.

He let out a small laugh, which seemed uncharacteristic for him, "Do not worry. I merely found it"

He placed the book down on the table and looked back at her. Even though he had one eye, it seemed to rake over her for an eternity before returning to her face.

"Are you afraid, my Lady?" he asked, still smirking.

Realising that she had been gawking, gripping onto her notebook, she shook her head. He seemed satisfied with the answer, only offering a 'Hm' in response as he began pacing the space around her.

"I may have limited vision, but I can see you are not afraid of me"

His back was facing you now, and with his eye not trained on you, you took the opportunity to study him and his form for a moment.

He was tall and his long silver hair trailed over his back, thick and straight. He certainly had that air of intimidation behind him and seemed to dress as such to scare people. In thick black leather with clasps, he almost looked imprisoned in his own clothes, straining against them. All this study of his form made you look down at yourself, wondering what he thought of you. The small woman without a voice, dressed in the clothes she was made several years ago.

"Your sister says I have a temper" he started, turning slowly to meet your gaze. He studied the way the candles flickered washes of amber and yellowish hues onto the side of your face, bringing the flush of your face out even more. How the flames bounced off the colour of your eyes. He wondered; how could someone be so expressive with simply their gaze.

He could not explain it, but you seemed content in the silence between you.

Slowly, as if movement would trigger the man, you opened the small notebook you carried with you, using the strip of charcoal to scribble something down. Aemond smirked seeing how concentrated you looked staring at the pages, how the line in between your eyebrows popped out slightly as you wrote.

You passed him the notebook, pointing at the page. He handled the book with such care that is astonished you, the way his fingers grasped it, there was a sensitivity to it. You swallowed your breath as his eye ran over the page all too slowly.

I do not know you well, but I have seen no temper.

Without moving an inch, his eye met you again and for a moment you worried you had said something wrong. But he softly handed the notebook back to you, watching your every move.

"Is this how you communicate?" he asked genuinely.

You nodded, as if embarrassed. Thinking of something to write down, you quickly flipped to a new page.

He accepted the notebook again once you had done, looking significantly more nervous this time, the charcoal rubbing black on your fingers.

I hope that the suggestion of our marriage does not embarrass you. If it is to be, I will be an amenable wife.

Aemond read the words on the page a few times, each time saddening him more so than the last. He saw how you fumbled with the charcoal, eyes averted, afraid of his reaction. He sighed so quietly that you did not hear it and only looked up once again when he handed the notebook back to you.

The words seemed to sincere, it bought a pain to his heart to see you think such things.

"Do not reduce yourself to such a thing" he said. But you did not look up.

There was a pregnant pause between you both as he regarded you.

"You are not entirely mute, are you"

You shook your head at his question, he winced at the painful look on your face. Immediately scribbling something down, faster this time.

It is sometimes better not to say anything at all.

Aemond nodded at this, "It is good advice, perhaps it can be bestowed on some within the court"

At this genuinely unexpected quip, you looked up at him letting a laugh escape you, hand immediately coming to your face to hide the smile that bubbled there.

It surprised you how quickly his eyes lit up upon hearing your voice. You could not help but look at him as he smiled before you, your cheeks firing up with embarrassment and you cleared your throat almost immediately, trying to dispel the air.

"You have a lovely voice" he said. It was here that you realised you were still smiling, eyes on his face, trying to find any signs of deception. For a second, you opened your mouth, tempted to say something. But the confidence quickly died as a block constricted your throat and the breath was expelled, but you nodded anyway, in thanks.

Do you read?

He nodded, gesturing to the book you had been reading, now reserved to the side table, all but forgotten.

"I do. I come here often" he said quietly, pacing about again.

You could no longer hide the way you looked at him. Your sister had said he was quick to rise and that she had been scared stiff at the interactions with him, that he had given her no notion of acceptance or equality. She spoke like he thought he was above everyone else.

But this was not the person you saw before you. Before you was some so soft spoken, you could barely hear him most of the time. Someone who enjoyed the serenity of a quiet library with the only sound being the flickering of the candles and the rain hitting the stone walls outside. You envisioned him being the only one to people-watch at parties, not amusing himself with the prospect of dancing. And perhaps not entertaining the thought of speaking to a woman directly.

"I come here when people like your sister remark on my tempestuous nature. Solitude is the only remedy for it" he paused looking over at you, "I imagine it is the same for you"

You scribbled something down, meeting his gaze when you handed it over.

Perhaps it is just that we are misunderstood. Solitude offers comfort.

A smile tugged at his lips once more and he thought that this is the most he had smiled in a long time.

"And books, it seems"

You nod genuinely, your eyes lighting up with an idea. Placing the notebook to one side, you rush past the Prince, giving him an opportune moment to feel the fabric of your skirts pass his thigh and the whips of your hair drag across the leather of his arm, releasing their scent. And with his eyes closed, he relished in these perfumes.

He allowed himself to think about what it would be like to live in that scent. To have it around him.

You placed a book in his hand, looking up at him excitedly. His long fingers grazed over the cover, admiring the gold leaf applied to it.

"Is this your favourite?" he asked, noting how close you remained after placing the book in his hand, though this you had not realised yet. You nodded, smiling as he opened the cover page to inspect the contents. A book he had not read.

He squinted at the pages, confused and looked back at you, barely needing to move his head since he was so tall.

"You can read this?" he asked. Ever humble, you shrugged your shoulders, "This is Valyrian" he sounded almost as if he did not believe you.

But you had read enough books for a lifetime already and you intended to prove to the Prince that what you were implying was truth.

Taking a deep breath, you lean forward and point to a word in Valyrian, inspecting the swirling text upside down. It had been a page right in the middle, telling the history of Aegon the Conqueror's mission to the Riverlands.  

"…i-istan…hae…" you took another breath, not meeting the Prince's eye, nervous that if you did all confidence would surely die, "…darys…"

"…dārys" Aemond softly corrected. You could not help but look up at him now, the eye that had been filled with mischief and confidence, now had something else there. You licked your lips and motioned for him to repeat what he has said so you might copy, "dārys…"

"…dārys…h-he….he…" you struggled on the 'h' sounds of the next words, so paused to gather your breath and push past the newly developing blocks. But the Prince waited patiently, more enamoured at the fact that you were attempting to speak before him and that this was possibly the most you had said to anyone in months, perhaps years.

The mere sound of your own voice surprised you, but concentrated on finishing the sentence, you licked your lips once again in concentration. Aemond almost laughed as the line between your eyebrows returned, "…hen ry…vest, vesteros…o-o…" you sighed at yourself, frustrated. The words beginning with vowels were always the hardest.

"…ondoso…" you managed, pushing past the breath quickly and it was the loudest word you spoke in the whole sentence. It felt clumsy and wrong, but if you had looked ahead, you would have seen the hooded look of Aemond looking down at you, mouthing along with you in silent appreciation.

"…rhaenys…" you finished, looking up at the prince. He closed the book and repeated the word back at you but with the trilled 'r' that was difficult for many to pronounce. You smiled, fiddling with your hair, only now realising how close you were to him so you were able to read the book.

You stepped back, suddenly feeling embarrassed and hot. As if you'd been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

"Very good" he said. The smile on your face was difficult to keep at bay and he placed the book to one side, "It is not an easy language to learn. From books?" he asked, to which you nodded.

You were grateful he did not mention anything about your slowness, about the stumbling over the words. He simply complimented your ability to even read and speak any Valyrian and that was all you wanted from him.

You scribbled down.

Perhaps you could teach me how to pronounce it properly.

"I would enjoy that, my Lady" he stepped forward to give you the notebook back, only to keep a hold on it when you tried to take it. His other hand laid on top of hers and all of a sudden, it all felt so real.

You could feel his fingers rub over yours with a strangely soft touch and all the heat rose to your face again.

"It is a brave thing, to show yourself to someone" he said, looking down at you, "Someday, I hope to do the same for you" he said quietly.

You flicked from one of his eyes to his eyepatch, knowing that this was the source of his own pain. All the things the ladies and your sister had said about this man. Saying he was monstrous, tempestuous and someone to fear. It was clear that these people just did not know him.

"Being with you is like being alone" he said quietly, almost to say it to himself.

Your other hand came to his arm, hand smoothing over the soft leather, reaching out to touch him to see if he was real. Your smaller hands barely came around his arm but you squeezed it, offering whatever comfort you could.

At his words, you nodded in agreement, and he could see the sincerity in your eyes. Perhaps he merely wanted to be understood, like everyone would like, but something that people like yourselves was difficult to find.

Dropping the notebook, the charcoal fell to the ground and snapped in two and before Aemond could open his mouth to question, you laid your head against his chest, hearing and feeling his heartbeat through the thick leathers.

He stood stock still for a moment, hands suspended in the warm air around you until he carefully laid them on your shoulders, pulling the hair over your shoulder. And for a moment he could not tell if he was greatly confused, shocked, horrified or comforted by the feeling.

A shudder rattled down your back as you felt his chin rest on top of your head.

"Kirimvose" he whispered, making a burst of air leave you with a laugh. It sounded mildly forced, and it warmed your chest in a way that bloomed across your whole body, knowing now that despite his discomfort, he had said it.

Thank you.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 14 Autumn sadness

Chapter 14 of Moonlight

A/N- Aemond stop being horny for your wife challenge (Impossible)

Warning- Swearing, talks of pregnancy, Aegon!, mentions of sexual harassment, angst, fluff, SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- 2x04

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

“Here again?” You query while you shade your eyes from the luminous sun starting to peek over the roof of the Dragonpit. “Another rendezvous?” You smile.

Aemond looks away from Aerion in his arms and shakes his head. “No, it’s something else.”

You squint your eyes and probe for more. “Like?”

Before Aemond can answer a Kingsguard shouting catches your attention. “Stand back!”

You look over and notice some Smallfolk trying to approach the stairs in an attempt to reach you. “Princess!”

“Princess!”

“Over here!”

Unlike before this time the calls aren’t born from admiration and excitement, you can hear the desperation in their voice as they try and steal your attention. You can see the plea for help in their eyes, the helplessness, and the hunger.

“Bring us some food, please!”

Your help wasn’t widespread, you would feed and give money to those few people you came across. You were never allowed to do more than that, but your charity is well known now that they’re looking for any kind of help. Anything that can feed their growling stomachs, and needing children.

“<I told you,” Aemond remarks in High Valyrian. “Feed one stray dog and others won’t fail to follow to beg too.>”

You glance at him with a disturbed look before you take a look at all the people you can’t help when they need you the most. You have money, but what good is that when there’s hardly any food for them to buy? All you can do is offer them an apologetic look before you ignore them and drive your attention to this early morning adventure Aemond has yet to explain.

“So are you going to tell me why we’re here?” You pressure him to fill your curiosity.

Yet he just smirks at you, making you roll your eyes and focus on the building holding sacred power just under its surface.

Which is pretty unbelievable! These powerful dragons your family can ride, that you can use to burn down towns and people to ash are kept in chains under a stone building that they can easily destroy, or that can also easily be their death.

It’s crazy to think about, but it’s true isn't it? If your mother decided to come in secret with all the dragons at her side they could attack the Dragonpit, and the rubble could be the dragon's death. Your dragon's death…

Thinking of Astraea dying is worse than thinking of someone you love dying. You’ve known your dragon since you were a babe, literally, she hatched when you were only a few months old, and you haven't been apart a moment since then. She's your soulmate. Losing her would be like losing yourself.

But your mother wouldn’t be so desperate as to attack the Dragonpit and kill the power of your house, they’re sacred, powerful, and majestic. Better than any army of men…

“I wish we had more family to ride dragons,” you express what springs to mind.

“What do you mean?” Aemond quickly follows up on your comment.

“Just that,” you counter with growing excitement as this idea keeps unfurling. “If we had more family we could trust, they could ride the other dragons that reside at Dragonstone. All who had riders in the past.”

Aemond gives you all his attention as his interest is completely stolen by what you’re trying to get at.

“There’s Vermithor,” you list the dragons that live in Dragonstone, on your fingers. “Silverwing, and…my father's dragon, Seasmoke.”

Thoughts turn behind Aemond’s eye before it all seems to come to a halt as he comes up with a conclusion. “We don’t need the other dragons, we have Vhagar.”

You scoff and get closer to him to argue for a sole worry, his safety. “Yes, but Vhagar and Sunfyre alone won’t win against my mother's dragons. They have 5 to your two, or three if you count me,” you add.

“There’s Tessarion,” he brings up the forgotten son, making you quickly brush him off.

“Still not enough, he’s young—Do you want to know what Daemon wanted to do when he found out Aegon was crowned?” You share with a bit of desperation, which is why you don’t let him answer. “He wanted to attack King’s Landing with all the dragons. Tell me if Vhagar would’ve survived that?”

Aemond looks ahead and answers with silence because he knows you’re right. He doesn’t want to admit that though, so instead he deflects with a question that he’s been wondering about since the war started. “Would you have attacked me with them?”

There’s nothing to think about, you know this answer as clear as day. “No,” you admit confidently. “I wasn’t mad at you then. I told you…I missed you.”

Aemond’s guard falls, and his eye falls on Aerion before he looks back at you with his eye reflecting the sun's beams peeking over the roof.

“You know,” you finally have a chance to admit something you haven’t talked about, and something he hasn’t asked out of fear of what you’d say? Who knows.

“If I knew what Daemon wanted to do I…don’t think I would have let him go through with it. Even if I thought I hated you at the time.” You swallow thickly and a breath escapes past his lips, making him collect himself to finally dig into this matter that has been running in his head.

“Where were you?” He asks.

You sigh and briefly steal a glance at the approaching entrance. “We were in the North,” you say quietly. “When we arrived at Dragonstone Daemon was not there anymore. I didn’t even know about his plan until the next day after I returned from Driftmark. And when I did find out,” you pause and sigh deeply before you meet his curious eye as he waits for more.

“Before Jacaerys could finish telling me what actually happened I was struck with fear…my world went dark when I thought you were killed,” you admit and feel yourself grow flustered as he keeps his eye on you. “And then when Jacaerys finished telling me the news I was horrified. You believe me right? I would never have let Daemon kill Jaehaerys.”

Panicked tears well in your eyes and he quickly assures you.

“I know.”

You nod in comprehension and breathe out that slight panic that just rattled you. “Anyway,” you continue with what you started with. “I couldn’t fathom you being killed, so it’s lucky that you were gone,” you feign a laugh. “I mean I’m not glad where you were, but it saved you so.”

Aemond comes to a stop, and you climb to the top before you stop and face him with a quizzical brow.

“I was not at the brothel because I sought lust,” he says again to get it through your mind and heart, but this time he adds something else that makes your heart skip a beat. “I did not think you would return home, I needed to talk to someone.”

A smile slowly spreads on your lips and you climb down to be in front of him before you assure him of one thing. “We would have found our way to each other eventually. I believe that. We’re one heart, one soul, one flesh. We literally drank each other's blood.”

He scoffs softly and you grin, making bliss glimmer in his eye and pull a soft smile to his own lips before he reaches over to cup your cheek and gently stroke your flesh.

You swoon at the touch and can’t help but reach over to grab his hand and hold his warmth.

There’s so much both of you can say on the aspect, you can reminisce about the past when getting married was a prospect that excited you both, and that you wanted more than anything. You could admit that fear is something you don’t feel when he’s close, but it is something he does feel because of the love he harbors for you. Yet neither of you says anything.

Your love is shared through the windows of your soul, right there on top of the steps, under the soft morning sky, with your son as a witness. Actually, he’s the one who interrupts the moment when he notices you just a hair's breadth away by reaching for your cheek with his little hand to try and grab you the same way Aemond was grabbing you.

When Aemond and you notice, you both share a laugh.

“<Beautiful, huh?>” Aemond directs at Aerion with a proud smile, making you giggle before you fall by Aemond’s side and hook your arm around his.

“Now,” you move this moment along by making him continue forward, and by moving on with this conversation. “Will you tell me why we’re here with our son?”

The corner of his lips tug up and he looks at you with a mischievous look that intrigues you.

“Spill,” you encourage him.

“Shrykos, the dragon egg chosen for Jaehaerys hatched the other day,” Aemond reveals, making your lips part with surprise—“I wanted to bring Aerion in hopes they will bond.”

You blink in surprise, but that quickly transforms into nothing but worry that knits your eyebrows and pushes you to share your concern. “But won’t Aegon be mad that you’re trying to bond Aerion to Shrykos?”

Aemond scoffs. “Why should he?” He retorts as walks you inside the dimmed arena. “Shrykos is free to claim now. It doesn’t belong to him.”

Is that what he said about Vhagar too?

“Hm, I suppose you’re right, but Aerion is still a babe,” you express more building-up worry. “He can’t defend himself if it doesn’t work.”

“I will have my blade ready,” Aemond makes sure to quickly assure you, but nothing he says actually gets rid of that feeling weighing down on you. Especially not when you reach the hall where the hatchlings and eggs are kept. It starts to feel like you’re lacking fresh air to breathe.

If anything happens to Aerion you’ll go mad.

“Aemond,” you try to express your worry, but he turns to assure you again.

“It will be fine, the keepers are here, and I have my hand on my pommel. I won’t let anything happen to our son.”

You hold his gaze to take more of that reassurance you need before you approach the stone table where Aemond sits Aerion, and where they have Shrykos’ carrier.

“<Since the one trying to bond is a babe, there won’t be commands, we will have to trust they communicate from within, the way you also communicate with your dragons.>” One of the keepers explains, making you clench your fists before you press your hands on the table to be ready to snatch Aerion if it all goes wrong.

“<Ready?>” The second keeper asks and looks between Aemond and you, making you and Aemond share a short speechless look before he answers with a nod.

The keeper then unties the crate's latch and lets a small swamp-green hatchling slowly crawl out of the darkness of her crate.

At first, it seems too timid to fully leave its crate, it stands there and tilts its little green head while her orange eyes focus on Aerion directly ahead of him.

Aemond and you share a curious look that's also mixed with worry that steals more of your breaths, and triggers your heart to race; causing the blood in your veins to pump rapidly, whilst also making your hands tremble.

Aemond notices your fear taking over, he senses it too because he feels concerned too, so he reaches over and wraps his hand around yours, letting a deep breath escape through your nose, and making your racing heart find some ease.

Yet not enough, it still thumps as you watch the hatchling completely leave her crate with her eyes locked on Aerion. All the while your babe glances over at you with no idea what’s going on; he doesn’t seem to be scared, he just steals a glimpse at Aemond and you before he returns his attention to the dragon and tries to reach for it.

Shrykos seems curious by Aerion’s movements so she crawls forward without that initial timidness that held her back before. She comes to a stop in front of Aerion and tilts her head to the side to look at him.

Aemond lets your hand go and uses both hands to hold his blade's handle and pull half of it out of his sheath. You lift your hands off the table and leave them out to be ready.

Aerion coos and leans forward to try and get a hold of the dragon, seeming to attract Shrykos to Aerion’s legs. That's when the babe finally brushes his little fingers over the dragon's head and smiles.

Shrykos blinks and her pupils seem to dilate before she coos back and suddenly climbs on Aerion to wrap itself around his shoulders and nuzzle her head against his cheek, making Aerion squeal.

You gasp and turn to look at Aemond at the same time he turns to look at you. Nothing is shared at first, but when you grasp that Aerion bonded with Shrykos you both share a proud smile.

“<It's done,” one of the keepers confirms what you concluded. “They are now bonded.>”

All the tension escapes you and you can’t help but grin and hug Aemond’s arm before he reaches over and takes Aerion in his arms with a proud grin on his long face.

“Good job, my boy,” you coo at Aerion as you stroke his cheek, but the boy is too focused on his dragon to pay any attention to you.

“Now no one will look down on you, my boy,” Aemond whispers to Aerion before he presses a kiss on the side of his head.

Your gaze drifts to look at Aemond as you take in what he said, as you detect the hurt in his voice brought by his childhood trauma when he was dragonless and picked on for that reason alone.

“We would never have let that happen if this hadn’t worked,” you tell Aerion whilst you also reassure Aemond. “And if they tried I would have protected you like I protected your father.”

Aemond hums and leans over to press a kiss on the top of your head.

“What time is the council meeting?” You ask him as you grab his arm.

“Not until noon,” he says. “Why?”

You offer him a mischievous smile and even if you know that he takes his responsibilities seriously and that the war outside this city's gates brings a tension within the Red Keep that takes a grip around everyone's throats, what’s wrong with a little escape? What’s wrong with getting carried away in the joy and pride that is brought by Aerion bonding with a dragon?

You aren’t making him abandon his responsibilities, you’re just asking for a little escape. And surprisingly he accepts your proposal and lets you take Astraea out so you both can mount your dragons and take them to the skies with Shrykos mounted on Aemond’s shoulder since her wings are still delicate to fly long distances, and she wants to be close to Aerion, who is strapped to Aemond’s chest.

It’s true, perhaps being on dragonback out of enjoyment is insensitive, tragedy has struck the kingdoms and you are royalty. Perhaps it’s also reckless considering the blockade that doesn’t stand too far away, and maybe it’s also a bit irresponsible. There are other moments and places to take time for yourselves where there aren’t millions of desperate souls watching, but neither Aemond nor you care. What other people might think doesn’t cross your mind.

All that exists is each other upon the skies; feeling the cold sea water splash over your face as Astraea grazes the tip of her wing in the water as she flies within Vhagar’s shadow. After a moment she straightens out and flaps her wings to fly forward. When she's past Vhagar, Astraea tilts up before she spins upward to reach Vhagar’s level and cut her off.

You chuckle and it's soon carried away by the rushing breeze, but your beaming smile is something that can’t be blown away, just like the bliss that completely fills your heart. It’s actually a contagious thing, your bliss. It’s a wonder that heightens Aemond’s own happiness the moment you beam at him over your shoulder.

Now he isn’t as expressive as you, that’s something that’s always been true. You have always been the one that shines the most and it’s something that never bugged him, not then and not now. He does get bothered when other people stare too long in awe at you, but that’s only because they might try taking you away from him, that’s it. He’d never try and diminish your light, and he’s glad it hasn’t snuffed out after what he did.

He fears that this war will diminish you, but even then that wouldn’t matter, he’d still look at you with the same admiration. He’d just have to work to revive that divine light; even if his presence alone is a spark of life itself. As long as you have him close, as long as he’s alive, that luminous light that he sees but you don’t, will never die.

Doesn’t he know that he’s like the moon and stars that you cherish with your heart? He’s cool like the moon in the night sky. And like the moon and the stars, it’s impossible not to admire and love him when he’s not looking or even when his attention is focused on you, like now. He looks at you with that cool blue eye that glimmers under the sun's kiss, and you just get lost on his face not tense with trying to look intimidating; he's smiling softly without stress, his long hair is flowing back, and he’s nothing but playful in this stolen moment as you fly next to each other in understanding that whoever lands on the empty patch of land first is the winner.

However, the winner is an easy guess. It’s you and Astraea. He may have cheated by taking a shortcut, but Astraea is faster since she isn’t as old or gigantic.

Your dragon actually ends up swooping around Vhagar and Aemond, and neither of you loses eye contact, causing a tense need for each other to burn hot and only escalate when you’re on the ground with your back pressed against his chest, his lips brushing over your ear, his breaths unfurling over the goosebumps on your skin, and his hand over yours as he shows you how to practice a certain action.

“Okay, I got it. Let me do it,” you whisper and slide your feet back to your usual fighting stance; something which makes him push your feet back to the way he’s been teaching you.

“Why do you keep standing like that?” He queries.

You glance down at your stance and realize that it’s the way Cregan stands with his sword.

“When you watch different fights you pick up on different things,” you throw out as an excuse which is actually kind of true. There’s been so many others you have taken notes on so you have grasped different techniques.

“I can still kick your ass,” you tease and he huffs softly, so you show off by swiftly managing to push him back with your elbow. You then swiftly spin around and flip the sword in your hand to point the tip to his throat. In the exact same way, you saw him do it once.

“Your own move on you, my love,” you taunt with a wink.

Aemond’s eye falls on the sword before he meets your gaze and can’t help but smirk.

“You caught me off guard,” he points out, making you snort and nod.

“That’s the trick to winning isn’t it?” You tease him and start to lower the sword, leaving him the opportunity to lunge forward and capture your wrist to twist you around and yank you against him with your back pressed against his chest again.

“No fair,” you complain in a whisper as he slides his hand down to cup your hand and press it gently so you can let his sword go and be left unarmed.

“That was not right,” you add and let out a punctured breath as he drags his other hand around your torso, letting his fingers brush over the flesh your gown leaves exposed.

“I really like this gown,” he whispers against the shell of your ear and feels his way all over your body covered by the sea-green gown you wear, making you shiver and draw in the same deep breath he stole.

“You’re distracting me,” you don’t actually mean a word you say, you want him to keep touching you with those firm yet gentle touches that light your skin on fire.

“A warrior doesn’t get distracted,” he rebuttals.

You laugh breathlessly and tilt your head to the side to let his lips touch your cheek because you’re starting to ache for his mouth to be on yours, but don’t want to move away from his touch.

“This is not fair,” you keep saying and he lowers his head to press his nose against your neck and take in a deep breath of your sweet scent.

“I hate when you do that,” you murmur without actual meaning and bring one hand down to wrap it around the hand he has around you and slide it down to your hips, causing him to grip onto you with a mischievous grin.

“Aemond,” you coo out and turn your head, making your lips touch and driving you to insanity. You can’t hold back anymore, you turn around to meet his hungry eyes before you glance at his inviting lips and indulge your desire for a heated moment. You don't linger too long, you pull back rather quickly, leaving a string of saliva that connects you both until he leans in and presses a gentle peck on your lips.

“You remember what I have to do today,” he brings up.

You sigh and nod stiffly. “Yes,” you say back and pull back to meet his gaze. “I was hoping I could leave Astraea out to just protect the city while you and Vhagar are gone. I will feel better knowing she’s out on the ready.”

Aemond holds your gaze and you plead speechlessly and hope desperately.

“In truth, I would feel better if she was out too,” he says, letting you let out a relieved sigh. “I will tell Aegon, but leave her out regardless.”

Now you can send your mother her warning without risking you or anyone else.

No one will keep track of Astraea's whereabouts, and if they ask where she is you will say she’s hunting for her meal. She likes to eat fish after all.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a sweet smile.

He hums and presses a kiss on your cheek before you part away, and both speechlessly decide that you should head back to the Red Keep now.

Nevertheless, when you go to Aerion you find him asleep with his arm around Shrykos neck as she too is lost in deep slumber.

“Oh my,” you muse and touch your heart as it completely melts inside you at such a precious sight. “Look, Aemond.”

Said man sheaths his sword that was left on the ground and then walks to you. When he’s behind you also watching what you’re watching, you look back at him with a wobbly smile and happy tears in your eyes, catching him smile in awe and pride because now he doesn’t have to worry about his son getting bullied the same way he was because he didn’t have a dragon.

——

*LATER*

It’s never hard being quiet when you’re sneaking through the secret tunnels. You always make sure to take your shoes off so the heels don’t reveal your presence, while any jewelry that dangles and makes noise is tucked away. That’s easy to control, but natural occurrences like coughing or sneezing are always an aspect that terrifies you.

You'd be caught right away and there would be no excuse that could save you from any consequences.

It’s not to say you feel any urge to cough or sneeze, but it crosses your mind as you approach the window and listen to the council meeting.

“Fuck you,” is the first thing you hear Aegon spat. Graceful. “I told you we should’ve sent our dragons. And now look what’s happened. Daemon, of all people, has taken Harrenhal.”

Does he mean that in a good or bad way? Because if it’s bad then maybe he needs to really reveulate his uncle's capabilities. Not to toot Daemon's horn, but he did win the battle at the Stepstones, he knows more about war than Aegon does. It should not be surprising that Daemon took Harrenhal. He should be surprised that he has no army to defend his stance there.

“I give you a job, and now you just sit there,” Aegon’s voice rises with his frustration. “It's your fucking castle!”

“Well, that castle is more crippled than I am, Your Grace,” you hear Lord Larys defend himself, making Aegon scoff— “It’s like to drive Daemon to madness as he attempts to make use of it. It is beyond his faculties. It’s also penniless,” he adds to try and reassure Aegon. “As I happily control all of its gold. So, as Harrenhal saps Daemon’s resolve, the false Queen remains trapped on her Island and Ser Criston continues felling castles in the Crownlands.”

“Wh—” Aegon stammers whilst you hear his feet stomp about the room. “I need to be informed of these things if I’m to make informed rulings. I will not be made to look a fool in front of my allies and enemies.”

“Harrenhal must wait,” Aemond interjects, causing a breath to escape past your lips. “Ser Criston is marching on Rook’s Rest.”

So he’s finally telling them.

“Rook’s Rest—a pathetic prize,” Aegon stammers. “I gave no such command—”

“The castle is small,” Aemond cuts Aegon off as you hear a chair creak before you recognize your husband's footsteps strike the floor. “Weakly defended and Lord Staunton sits on Rhaenyra’s council. After Cole smashes it, we’ll have Dragonstone effectively cut off by land. This war will not be won with dragons alone but with dragons flying behind armies of men.”

And that is why Aemond and Ser Criston have been secretly planning because Aemond is obviously the most strategic. Sure, his plans don’t favor your family, but you can still be proud that you married someone smart right?

“No! Have him turn about,” Aegon wastes his breath. “I want Harrenhal back.”

Aemond’s footsteps once again hit the ground and you imagine he’s returning to his seat while he responds. “Cole is already preparing his attack.”

Which is why after Aemond leaves you have to send word to your mother.

“Uh, how-how do you know this?” Aegon demands to know in a more perplexed way than upset.

“He sent word to me,” Aemond reveals half the truth as you hear him sit back down.

“To you?” Aegon asks, and you can’t help but detect a bit of hurt. “The two of you have been…plotting…without my authority?”

A second of silence passes before you hear Aemond fill the hall in Valyrian. “<You had more pressing matters to attend to. Such as holding court, choosing your sobriquet, and naming imbecilic lickspittles to our Kingsguard.>”

You can’t help but smirk at Aemond’s counter, knowing damn well that Aegon is only understanding part of that.

“Mm,” Aemond hums before he goes on as if trying to make Aegon look a fool. “<Do you have a wiser strategy, my King?>”

Oh, that rolls off his tongue so smoothly that it makes you tingle.

<If so, you should voice it to your council. We all wait your answer,>” Aemond finishes saying, making that smirk on your own face deepen, while a pride grows within you and grows exponentially as Aegon takes a moment to answer.

“<I can have to…” he responds in High Valyrian hesitantly. “Make a…war?>”

You cover your mouth to stifle your laugh.

Please! His own daughter probably knows more Valyrian than he does!

What a joke.

“Mm,” Aemond hums back, causing people around the table to clear their throats in response to Aegon’s failed attempt.

“Harrenhal is a useful morass,” Aemond continues in the common tongue. “It will keep Daemon well-occupied while we strengthen our host and weaken Rhaenyra’s support on the mainland. We will deal with it in the Riverlands in time. But right now. Rook’s Rest is an easy target and a worthy effort. Don't you agree, my King?”

You lean your ear towards the window and wait for him to agree. What else can he say? He had no other plan up his sleeve that could actually rebuttal Aemond’s plan, so all he can do is agree to that plan, and Aemond’s plan to go with Vhagar too.

Maybe this will teach him to be more strategic so he doesn’t get made a fool again, which is a bit pitiful, you do admit. If he were anyone else you would feel bad that his brother keeps upstaging him and planning behind his back, but he’s Aegon. You don’t feel pity or remorse, especially not after the way he treated Aemond not long ago in that brothel. Just like your husband, you relish in his torment.

If only you could witness more, yet Aemond is left satisfied and you depart from the shadows to return to your chambers before the meeting is done and Aemond accidentally discovers you.

And leaving at the time you did ends up being a lucky choice because the moment you sit down with your book, and pretend that's what you were doing, Aemond walks in.

“My love,” he greets and marches over to grab his sword right away before he finds his way to you on the ground keeping Aerion company.

“How was it?” You pretend to be clueless.

“As you would expect,” Aemond shares and crouches down to give Aerion some attention as the boy spends time on his tummy. “Aegon is fruitless when it comes to war, he’s bloodthirsty, thinking boldness is the better option. He’ll have all our dragons killed if we act out his plans.”

You close the book and tilt your head up to look at him. “Which is why it’s a good thing you sit at his table. How did he take the news?”

Aemond scoffs and a sly smirk plays on his lips. “What do you think?”

You sigh and guess. “Whiny and offended.”

Aemond nods before he snickers. “He tried speaking Valyrian, but he butchered it. He couldn’t even form a sentence.”

You laugh softly, but not as much as you would want knowing the actual context. Then again not like it matters because your amusement is quickly killed because you know you can’t escape the inevitable.

“Will you stay for dinner at least?” You try to make him linger behind.

Aemond lifts his eye off Aerion and catches the gloss in your eye that accompanies your speechless pleas, so he looks back at his son and gives you his answer. “I have indulged in my pleasures today. Rhaenyra might have already heard about our approach and may attack soon, I cannot risk leaving Cole defenseless.”

Your eyes flicker down and you sigh deeply with worry, pulling Aemond to his feet, and attaining his gaze that attracts you to look up and meet his gaze before you listen to your impulse and follow him up.

“I will return,” he reassures the worry creasing a frown on your features. “Sooner than you think.”

You close the empty space left between you and gently place your hands on his chest before you slowly trail them up his shoulders and bring them to a stop on his jaw, noting his armorless body left vulnerable to any deadly attack.

“I wish you would armor,” you express your concern.

Aemond’s gaze hardens and he grabs your elbow to remark. “Do you doubt me? Why is it that you never seem to trust my capabilities? I am met with doubt every time.”

Your eyebrows pinch together and your eyes harden as you’re confused by this outburst, but just as you want to argue, your anger fades when you realize that he doesn’t really understand where your doubt is coming from. So you sigh softly and look at him with a softening gaze that fills with admiration, and brings a teasing smile to your face.

“No matter how many times I tell you, you still don’t understand,” you quip and bring your hand down to smack his shoulder. “You may be smart with war plans, but there is something you do not seem to understand.” You scoff and your smile widens as your eyes perk up with bliss. “I do not doubt your skill Aemond, not on dragonback and not with a sword, I worry. It’s concern that I share because I love you.”

Aemond holds your gaze for a moment before he looks down as he loses that hardened demeanor brought by self-defense, and instead grows flustered.

“I do not wish to have your corpse returned to me,” you continue softly and try to find his eyes. “Vhagar may be the biggest dragon, she may have more battle experience than any other dragon, but she nor you are invincible. It takes one arrow, Aemond, raging fire, or a lucky bite from the other dragon's jaw and I am left a widow. Do you understand that?” You push your love into his heart, making him express nothing but love and awe in return as he finally lets you find his gaze.

“I just would feel more comforted if I knew something protected your face and your body. That’s all.” You say and slide your hand up to cup his cheek.

This time Aemond moves his hand up to meet yours so you can keep it pressed against his cheek and he can take in all the comfort you offer, while also making sure to stroke your knuckles with his thumb.

“I will be careful,” he assures you. “I won’t fall today. Nor tomorrow for that matter.”

You scoff in amusement and pull his face closer to you. “I need you to come back,” you express what torments your heart. “To me. I…can’t do this without you.”

Aemond’s breath catches and after a second he drags his hand up your arm while also raising the other one to grab your face with both and reassure you sweetly. “I will be well protected with Vhagar, I will return. I will be okay and I do not need armor to assure me of that. I will come back.”

Your breath trembles and you nod softly before you lean in and share your love with a deep kiss you linger in to keep him with you a bit longer, while also hoping that a deep kiss will convince him to stay. Yet he begins to part away.

But before your lips can be greeted with a cold abandonment he takes you in for a second kiss that’s shorter, but surpasses the passion that already fueled your first kiss.

Unfortunately, there’s no third indulgence, you do stay close and press your forehead against his to linger in each other's presence for a moment longer. Not letting anything penetrate this moment in time where all that exists is each other, your intertwined hearts, and your interconnected souls.

“I love you,” you break the silence after a while and caress his cheeks.

Aemond presses a kiss on the heel of your hand and whispers back. “I love you too. Come see me off?”

You scoff at the ridiculousness of his question. “Of course.”

After getting the last things he needs, and after bidding goodbye to Aerion, you walk with him all the way to the last gate, but no further because he doesn’t want you returning to the Red Keep alone.

“Astraea is allowed to roam the skies as freely as she wants while Vhagar and I are gone,” Aemond lets you know and unknowingly connects the missing link you had to help your mother. “If you mount her, don't approach the blockade or do anything reckless.”

“Reckless?” You feign innocence and touch your chest. “Me? Never.”

His lips tug to a smile before he goes serious and presses that. “I am being serious.”

You offer him an assuring nod and whisper. “I know. I will stay out of trouble.”

He hums and before he can leave, you reach for your neck to take off your necklace that holds the sigil of both of your houses, Velaryon and Targaryen. “I do want this back, it’s my favorite,” you say and grab his hand to give him your pendant. “For luck.”

“Your favor?” He teases with a smug smile.

You hum timidly and watch him snatch your hand before all he has is your haunting touches, and slowly brings it up to his thin pink lips to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles, causing your heart to skip a beat and a giggle to escape past your lips.

“Everything will be fine,” he adds in his soft voice that works like a trance. It keeps you under its spell now, but you know later it will wear off and your concern will drown you again.

“<Be careful,>” you tell him one more time, but this time you pass him a confident look also oozing with pride.

Aemond steals one more touch from your warm cheeks before leaning in and pressing his forehead against yours to steal one last sweet moment before he steps back and stands tall to show off the intimidating persona he’s built over the years, but never scares you. You see his confidence and his determination, but he does not intimidate you.

“<Goodbye, my love.>” He bids.

You offer him a last smile and whisper back so only he can hear. “Goodbye.”

You wave at him and linger where he left you behind to watch him get further and further away until not even his long shiny silver-white hair is visible. Now when you're sure that he won’t walk back for something he forgot you turn to head back inside, but the moment you do face the Redkeep, you catch Aegon looking out one of the windows of a high tower.

His eyes are unmistakably on you, letting you know he saw your last goodbye with his brother.

Was it with envy? Annoyance? Anger?

You don’t know, you can’t see the expression that paints his features from where you stand. Besides, when your eyes meet he turns away and abandons the window, letting you head inside.

At first, you walk at a normal pace, but when you’re inside you hurry back to your room to write that warning to your mother in High Valyrian so there’s less of a risk of someone unwanted reading your note. Which is unlikely because Astraea will carry your letter, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry.

“<Ser Criston Cole is preparing his attack on Rook’s Rest. Vhagar and Aemond will be there too in hopes of catching one of your dragons by surprise, which means he will be leaving the city defenseless for today and tomorrow. I will write more soon.>

You don’t sign your name, nor do you address it to anyone out of caution. You keep the letter short even if you wish to write more. And before anyone can interrupt you, you rush off using the tunnels so no one can stop you, or see you and report your comings and goings to anyone who shouldn’t know.

Once you make it out to the cove behind the castle, your dragon is already waiting for you.

“<Good girl,>” you praise her and caress her snout. “<Now go to Dragonstone and deliver this message. Be careful.>”

Astraea brings her head down to let you attach the note to one of her long horns.

“<Now go,>”, you tell her and press your forehead against her before you step away and watch her fly off to Dragonstone, wishing that there wasn’t a raging war happening so you could go too without worry or fear.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“The powerful are powerless to someone aren’t they?” Helaena comments and leaves you pondering about the actual significance behind such a simple comment.

“Yes,” you muse and prop your elbows on the stone railing to rest your chin on your hands and admire the crimson blood that stands out like shining rubies on Astraea’s purple feet as her large claws puncture her prey while she drags their lifeless silver body with her.

You like to think that your family got your message, you went to see Astraea a few hours after she returned yesterday and neither the letter nor the ribbon was attached to her horn anymore. Do they have to send anything in return? No, but maybe they could send back a different colored ribbon or something small like a shell in your satchels hanging on her saddle. You looked and looked but it was all empty, so you were left hoping the letter did not fall in the water when she flew there.

You’ll have to let them know to send you some discreet message in return next time to let you know that they got your letter.

“Even the King's answer to someone…” you add to your forming thought. “They may be powerful, but that power can easily be taken by anyone really. They just need the right motivation.”

Helaena hums and her eyes then slide to watch you watching your dragon.

“How are you feeling Helaena?” You ask and turn your attention to her. “I haven’t asked today.”

“About?” She probes.

You push yourself up and carefully bring up what worries you about her. “Your boy. This war. You being Queen.”

Her chest raises high and when it goes back down she looks out at the horizon. “Well…being Queen comes with more attention, I can feel them all looking at me, waiting for me to do something. But I don’t want to. I don’t want them looking at me.”

“Hold your head up high,” you try to advise her sweetly. “Paint on a facade and they won’t really see you. Just worry about caring for your daughter, that’s all that matters.”

Helaena blinks and her eyes fall. You study her face closely to watch for any change in emotions, but she’s harder to read than her brothers, so you wait for her to give you her response.

“Alright.”

You offer her a kind smile and look back at the horizon past the window, coming out surprised when she continues to share what troubles her soul.

“And Jaehaerys,” she pauses and your eyes return to her. “My sadness isn’t as grand anymore. I miss him, but he’s not suffering anymore.”

You swallow back and can’t help but frown with pity and sorrow that you don’t hide so she knows it’s okay to be sad, that if she wants you can be sad with her.

Yet she puts on a brave face so all you can offer her is a faint smile.

“Daeron sent me a letter,” she shares with glee. “And he sent me a butterfly with it. It was dead of course, but I added it to my collection because I did not have it yet.”

“That’s nice of him. I would like to see it after we see the maester that is.”

She nods. “Of course.”

Silence follows but she doesn’t let it last. “Are you scared?” She asks back which is a general question, but you answer with what plagues you the most.

“Yes…I have a lot to lose,” you murmur and step back, making her wait for you to start walking forward to be able to follow at your side.

“But I know I must put my trust in them,” you add and fiddle with a starfish that decorates the golden chain around your waist. “They are strong in their way. I just…don’t want to lose anyone anymore. I don’t want to…end up alone.” Your voice breaks without warning.

“But,” Helaena’s parting lips echo down the lonely hall. “You won’t end alone.”

The corner of your lips form a quick smile and you can’t help but show it off to her. “I will have you that’s true—”

“No,” she cuts you off, and her eyebrows furrow as she seems to grow impatient. “But you won’t end up alone.”

Your smile disappears, and your anguish leaves with it, letting conflict push your eyebrows together, and part your lips as a small gasp leaves your mouth.

Helaena watches you and she can’t seem to get a hint of what you’re feeling, but her impatience to be heard gets lost.

“No?” You ask for reassurance even if a part of you warns you not to believe her simply out of self-protection, while the other part of you completely trusts what she just said.

“You,” she pauses and comes to a slow stop, making you stop, and bringing Ser Jason and her guards to a stop behind you. “You believe me?” She asks softly as she doesn’t see that same pitiful smile everyone offers her when she shares something ominous she needs them to understand.

“I believe you,” you throw all your trust in her and offer her a sweet smile.

Helaena’s gaze lingers on you as her thoughts swirl behind her eyes. “Okay,” she breathes out. “Thank you.”

You hum softly and continue down your path back to your chambers. “Why shouldn’t I? We are part of a special family, my favorite ancestor is Daenys the Dreamer, she’s the one who saved our house thanks to what she dreamt. And even still we follow the rule of men when it’s women who have saved us from doom.” You grumble and roll your eyes.

“Well, men—”

“No,” you cut her off and scold her. “Don't well men me. Women are just as capable as men. In ruling and combat if given the chance. And we are not afraid of blood…well some of us at least, because we bleed all the time. Do you see what I’m trying to get at?”

She shrugs lazily. “I suppose.”

You loll your head to the other side and click your tongue in disappointment.

“Anyway,” you drag out and clasp your hands together. “Sunfyre and Astraea were nuzzled against each other yesterday when I went to take her out. Isn’t that so cute?” You change the subject to a more lighthearted matter that doesn’t really catch her attention, but she still shares a comment nonetheless.

“I’m sure Astraea is happy to be out.”

You smile and nod. “Delighted. She has been spoiled beyond belief with her freedom, which makes it hard for both her and me when it comes to putting her in chains here.”

“I’m sure she knows it’s not because of ill intent,” she tries to comfort you.

You huff. “Yes, she knows that. She just…prefers her freedom.”

Before you know it you reach your chambers and Maester Orwyle is already inside preparing what he needs for your examination.

“Your Grace,” he greets Helaena first before he greets you. “Princess.”

You offer him a faint smile and a warm greeting. “Hello Maester, I hope you haven’t been waiting long. We were taking a stroll after breaking fast.”

He shakes his head and responds. “No, I got here a moment ago myself. Now will you tell me what you have been feeling so I can conclude to the right results.”

You sigh and watch Helaena take a seat on one of your couches before you let your eyes wander ahead as you tap into your memories. “Well, it has been a month since I last bled. I…started feeling more exhausted than usual a couple of weeks after the war started. I have been craving foods more than usual, and…well I have had more frequent headaches as well as stomach aches.”

The maester hums and he studies you before his gaze goes to Vanessa. “How has she eaten?”

Oh because he couldn’t ask you?!

“Not well, but it also varies, some days she tends to eat like normal, while on other days she hardly touches her food,” she happily obliges with sharing…well a lot of what you would have not shared.

“Ok, Princess, if I may ask you to change into a lighter gown so I can do your examination.” He orders while you pass Vanessa an annoyed glare she doesn’t fret to brush off as she pushes you behind a divider to help you undress.

“You did not have to share all of it. I eat,” you whisper sharply, and she turns you around harshly to untie the corset, while you pull the halter strap over your head.

“Define what eating is to you,” she rebuttals and you try to sass her.

“Eating is when you—”

“Prince Aemond would have my head if I did not reveal the truth to the maester. He already pressed me to feed you more,” she cuts you off and shares what you didn’t know.

“He shouldn’t have,” you mutter as you purse your lips together.

Vanessa sighs. “He's just worried…in his own way, that's all. And why shouldn’t he be? You haven’t told him.”

A perplexed look flickers on your face before all that paints your face is anguish. “I just…need to be sure first. I mean I need to hear it from a maester.”

“I understand,” her voice eases off the frustration. “Ok, it’s done.”

You let the gown fall to your feet before you step away from it and slip on a lighter gown to rejoin the maester out in your room.

“It does seem that you have lost weight,” The maester points out now that he takes a second look at you in a less busy gown. “But that may be grief as well. I’m certain it has not been easy.”

You scoff and gently shake your head as you make yourself to your bed, and he follows suit with gadgets that he uses inside you…

“Okay just try and hold still. We have done this before so you remember the procedure, right?”

You gulp and offer him a breathless response that gives him the okay to proceed and examine you carefully so as to not miss something, or diagnose you with the opposite of what you may have.

Like he said you have gone through this before, but it still is quite uncomfortable. You get lost on the ceiling above you and wait for him to stop before you move so he can press your belly with his fingers, and also feel your breasts to check if they are tender.

Once his quiet examination is done he steps back from your bed and stands formally before he finally addresses your anticipation. “Congratulations Princess, you are indeed with child.”

It’s meant to be a happy moment, but you’re tormented by anguish as the truth is finally proven and you can no longer hope that it's all some silly mind game played by all your troubled emotions.

Now…the possibility of your passionate night with Cregan resulting in a joyous bundle is more real. Then again you hide behind the hope that one night did not lead to a child. You convince yourself that Aemond is the father because it is true, your fear is just wicked and playing with you.

“Twins?” You ask and he blinks with surprise before he nods hesitantly as if surprised that you know what isn’t meant to be obvious yet.

“Yes…there are two babes. Two different placentas.”

“I told you,” Helaena blurts over the couch before she returns her attention to the books you have spread all over the couches since Aemond has his map on the small table.

“But,” he adds and your heart drops. “I would like to keep a closer eye on you. It seems one babe is smaller than the other.”

You drag yourself to the edge of the bed and press him for more. “Wh-what does that mean? Will they be okay?”

Maester Orwyle lets out a deep breath before he makes your heart hurt with his honesty. “I cannot say for certain, that’s why it’s important for you to eat princess. If you are not healthy and strong the babes will not be. This time you will have to eat for three which will take that much more energy.”

“I understand,” you whisper your comprehension.

“Like I said I will come and check on you more often. I want to make sure that the babes are growing as they should.”

You nod and he bows his head before he offers you one more congratulations and then turns to talk to Vanessa about teas and different foods that you should and shouldn’t eat. And before he left he did not forget to tell you to share your news with Aemond, as if he didn’t already plan to do it himself because apparently you are incapable of controlling your own life.

Regardless, now you know. Now there’s no use hoping you’re simply overthinking and that Helaena’s head is too lost in the clouds, she was right, and you are with child. You are going to have twins with Aemond.

Okay…maybe that prospect does excite you more than you thought. You might have your own Daenys soon, and maybe another girl or more boys!

Whatever they may turn out to be your worry turns to overwhelming bliss you can hardly contain. If only Aemond was here to tell him, but he’s too far and you would be too reckless to fly to him just to share the news.

You have half the mind to go, but that would be oh-so stupid. You’ll have to wait and maybe think of baby names?

Or embroider a nice cover? You are terrible at sewing, but you have the urge to.

Maybe you’ll sing to them and Aerion! You would sing to Aerion when he was in your belly all the time and he would kick like crazy when he got older because of it.

So yes! That’s what you’ll do! They may be too small now to hear, but you need to do something that will release your excitement. Besides you can take advantage and learn more of the songs and ballads that are in the book Aemond gave you.

They’re all so beautiful and full of rich stories. And as sad as some are, knowing that these songs were sung by people in Valyria does delight you as well as make you feel honored that you now get to know them, sing them, and cherish them. It makes it easy to get lost in the songs and have the day pass. Before you know it, noon has already crept in.

The sun is still high so the entire day didn’t pass under you. The only reason you do break your attention from your book is because a persistent knock raps on the door.

Is it Aemond?!

You beam at the possibility.

“Come!” You welcome the visitor as you throw the book on the couch and stand up to spin and face the door.

Nevertheless, who comes in isn’t your tall long-haired husband, it’s his brother, Aegon.

“Your Grace,” you mumble in confusion and look him up and down as you note that he looks smaller than usual in such historic armor that Aegon the Conqueror once wore.

“Niece,” he greets and flashes you a smile before he closes the door behind his guards.

“Aemond is not here,” you state the obvious even if the hairs on the back of your neck rise as they warn you that he’s not looking for your husband.

His heavy footsteps thud as he begins to make his way toward you with a mischievous glint in his eyes that deepens that smirk on his face.

“Yes, I know of my brother's comings and goings.” He says, causing fear to strike your heart. “But I am not here for him.”

You glance at his Kingsguard for help, but you should have known better, they look away, and at that very moment they let you know that you’re alone and defenseless against whatever antics creep into Aegon’s mind.

“Then why are you here? In armor.”

He shrugs. “I am going to battle. Obviously,” he chuckles and his smirk turns to a grin.

You see that he’s past the couches so you continue to back away until you’re behind a couch. “That seems rather reckless. You are King—”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” he spats and his grin falls back to a smirk that keeps that mischievous outward.

“Why are you here Aegon?” You ask again and he keeps making his way toward you, not caring that you’re obviously trying to keep your distance.

He huffs. “I’m here for your favor,” he finally reveals and you swallow thickly and run into a chair.

“I already gave it to Aemond,” you try to keep Aegon away. “And you have a wife. Ask for her favor.”

He lets out a sigh. “It's not the Queen's favor I desire,” he quickly brushes you off and hops over the living area to hurry over and trap you against the chair so you cannot keep running away.

“It’s yours,” he whispers and leans his face closer to you, letting his strong wine breath whaff all over you which causes you to try and slide away, but he throws his hand out to grab the chair and block your exit.

“Aemond—”

“Is not here,” he cuts you off again and uses his other hand to start reaching out for your arm, but you grab your golden waist belt to avoid his incoming touch.

“Aegon,” you hiss. “Leave.”

“After a kiss goodbye hm?”

You shake your head and rebuttals by throwing his hand around your arm, but he doesn't pull you anywhere, he just grabs your arm and makes you feel utterly powerless. You hold so much battle knowledge, you know how to make someone unhand you, you can sweep someone off their feet, and so much more, but at this very moment with his hand on your arm and his wine breath unfurling over your cheek, you can’t move a muscle.

“Aegon,” you try to call him off you again, but his hold loosens and the tip of his fingers travel to your hips.

“Stop,” you mutter with a quivering lip. “Please,” your voice trembles.

He spares you a glance before he tilts his face to the side to force you to kiss his cheek first.

You don’t want to, you want to push him away, to scream, but he won’t move and you can’t find the strength; it hides like a coward under Aegon’s presence. Thus you’re left with no choice, you pucker your lips and lean your face forward to press a light kiss on his cheek so it can make him leave faster, feeling disgust swirling what little you have in your stomach.

When you pull back you expect him to back away and leave you alone, but his hand presses against your hip and you feel the warmth of his hand start to travel up.

“Aegon stop it,” you sneer shakily.

Said man’s hungry eyes start to lower to steal a glance at your chest exposed by the v-neck your bodice was designed with.

“Aegon,” you call out desperately, making him find your gaze and smile.

“Wish me good luck,” he says in return.

You swallow back nervously and part your lips, but before you can utter a word the doors get thrown open, pulling your eyes to the welcoming visitor, and seeing Ser Jason with his sword halfway out of his sheath, and his face hardened.

“Ser,” you call out with relief.

Aegon looks over his shoulder and his smile dies.

“Your Grace,” Ser Jason greets coldly without letting his sword go but making Aegon’s kingsguard grab their own swords to prepare for an attack.

“Just in need of my niece's favor,” Aegon is quick to throw out an excuse. “Ser.”

Aegon proceeds to snap his head back around to steal one more glimpse at you before he slides his hand off your body, letting you finally breathe when he backs away and gives you his back.

Even then, though, as he's leaving he makes sure to take his sweet time more so to taunt you that he has power over you now.

“Ser,” Aegon directs at Ser Jason with a taunting smirk that he makes sure is the last thing you see before he disappears down the corridor, knocking out any sort of confidence you could show off to Ser Jason as he remains there past your doors.

“Th-thank you,” you clear your throat and fight the urge to cry as you’re left defeated and feeling powerless. “Ser. For coming to my aid.”

Ser Jason finally lets his sword fall back in his sheath and his blue eyes soften to pity as he watches you fight back your tears.

He wants to ask if you’re okay, but he also knows that would be a stupid question considering he can see you shaking, and hears you heaving.

“Princess,��� he whispers and you pull your eyes up to give him your attention through a teary gaze.

“I’m—I’m okay, Ser” you stammer and nod even if you feel violated.

Ser Jason whispers his comprehension, but rather than walking out and standing guard outside your doors, he steps further inside and comes to a stop shortly after to watch you with a certain conflict battling in his deep blue eyes, a conflict that you pick up on before you turn away and clutch onto the chair to try and calm yourself down after something you feared the most happened.

You tried so hard, but you were utterly useless. You couldn’t move a muscle, or find the right thing to say back. You were nothing at that moment but something else he can now order around.

You feel so stupid, so weak, and—

“Princess,” Ser Jason calls out and now you hear that he’s closer than before.

“Ser,” you breathe out and turn around, seeing at that moment that your eyes fall on him, that his eyes express his pity while also trying to offer you the comfort you need the most.

“You…you are not alone,” he says and you can’t help it, you break down and all you want is your mother or Cregan…

He was always there when you felt the most anguished without a fault.

But he can’t be here, nor can you go to your mother. And even Aemond is gone to feed his hunger for battle, leaving only your sworn protector.

“Okay,” you whisper with relief and he slowly starts moving toward you with his hand slowly rising off his side in an attempt to offer you a comforting touch.

Albeit before he can even get near, your eyes find Lord Larys limping toward your open doors, causing you to drop your head to hide your tears.

Not like it was a fruitful act, the Lord takes note of your anguish.

“Lord Larys,” you address his presence, making Ser Jason almost throw himself back as he backs away from you so the Lord doesn’t get the wrong idea.

“Princess,” the lord greets in return. “Forgive my intrusion. I was coming to pay you a visit and I came across an open door.”

You shake your head to dismiss his apology. “Do not worry about it, Lord. You are welcome.”

You glance up at him and catch an exchange of looks between Lord Larys and Ser Jason before your sworn protector walks out of the room in a hurry, leaving Lord Larys and you alone in the confinements of your chambers.

“Please take a seat,” you point to your table. “I would offer a seat in front of the fire, but I’m ashamed to say Aemond and I have a mess.”

Lord Larys shakes his head. “It’s quite alright,” he reassures you and limps toward the table to take a seat on a wooden chair.

You turn to walk towards the flagon of water and wine so he won’t see the tears that leave your eyes red.

“Water? Wine?” You offer as you wipe your cheeks and draw in a deep breath.

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

You nod in comprehension and serve yourself some water before you turn and face the Lord in hopes he will reveal what brought him here.

“I hope you have found yourself well, a gaze stuck between two sides must be heavy on the heart,” he says.

You bring your gaze down to watch the water within the golden goblet. “I find myself quite well,” you lie with a smile you direct at the Lord. “It was difficult at first, but now…my conflict has been resolved, and the only weight I carry is the worry for my husband and son's safety.”

He hums and you notice him dig his hand in his pocket as he interjects. “As you should be, with Prince Daemon on a path of revenge, who knows what else he might do.”

Your gaze narrows to a glare for a brief second before you take a small sip and take a seat across from him.

“I have been meaning to thank you for telling me about Prince Aemond’s whereabouts when I was gone,” you address the matter and set your cup down, but keep your fingers around the neck of the goblet. “Telling the truth really helped us reconcile.”

The Lord brings a fisted hand up to hang over his cane while he offers you a faint smile. “I’m gladdened. It’s important that the realm sees the picture of unity among the royal family. Now more than ever.”

You scoff. “They need food. Not a glimpse at our marriage, they could care less about us whilst they’re starving,” you rebuttal bitterly and take a glance out the balcony.

“That’s easier said than done with the blockade cutting off any transport of food,” he adds, making you return your gaze to him.

“If only there could be something done about it,” you mumble bitterly and leave out the fact that the crown could spare food, or send a dragon to break that blockade.

“Maybe you can,” he suggests, piquing your interest. “You have Prince Aemond’s ear, and he has a seat upon the council. You could ask him to give an idea to the council.”

You tap the neck of the goblet as you think about what he just said. Which is honestly not a bad idea, but would they even agree to offer any help?

Doubtful.

You could bring it up nonetheless. Maybe.

“That is a great idea, I might do exactly that,” you don’t hesitate to give Lord Larys his props.

Lord Larys bows his head to offer you his thanks before he moves his fisted hand and pushes it over the table. “I did come to give you this…back.”

You slowly sit up straighter and press your hands on the table as you watch him put down a small brown wooden box on the table.

“It seems you lost it recently,” he pauses and pushes the box toward you with the tip of his finger, causing curiosity to tug the corner of your lips to a faint smile.

“…in the North.” He finishes and your hand freezes just as you’re reaching for the box.

At first, you were completely in the dark about what he was reeling up to, but now that he pulls the truth out of the murky waters, you start to realize what the box might hold, and the insinuation he might have as bait.

And alas, when you grab the box and bring it toward you to open it, you see exactly what you suspected; the sapphire ring you had lost in Castle Black. The ring Aemond had gifted you when you first returned from the North. The ring you dropped as you were kissing Cregan.

“It was brought to me from Winterfell,” Lord Larys adds with a certain change in his tone of voice. “It seems someone found it in the bed chambers of the Warden of the North.”

So the ring was given back to Cregan. That’s…nice.

“Any idea why the Lord would have such a meaningful ring in his chambers?” Lord Larys presses, and you start to hear it, the insinuation he does not directly say.

“I had lost it,” you try not to express your horror and close the box to hold Lord Larys' gaze without fear. “He obviously found it. Are you suggesting Lord Stark stole from me?”

Lord Larys scoffs in amusement and shakes his head. “No, I could not see Lord Stark doing something so below him. Albeit it seems his honor does dwindle when it comes to a much more valuable Gem of the Sea.”

The nonchalance you wore falls, but you don’t break. You are not stupid either, you know who Lord Larys is referencing when he brings “Gem of the Sea.”, but you do not let him bait you, nor do you find yourself powerless like when Aegon was here moments ago. What is Lord Larys?

He’s no King. No Warden, no knight, he only holds the title of Lord because his family has not tried to fight him for the title and lands, and the other part of his family is dead. He’s not fearsome, he’s a man with a club foot.

You will not cower behind a shadow that cannot even overshadow yours.

“Lord Larys,” you feign a laugh and open the box to pull the ring out. “Answer me this…do you take me for a fool?”

Lord Larys sputters and ends up saying nothing after he did not expect you to rebuttal as fearless as you did.

“I know what you are insinuating,” you continue and slide the sapphire ring back on your ring finger. “And it really is a nasty thing,” you roll out and snap your eyes up to look at the disbelief he’s trying to wipe off.

“But just so we are on the same page, tell me what exactly you are referring to,” you lull out and bat your eyelashes while a large winged shadow suddenly flies past the windows before a chitter breaks in the sky, and a growl soon follows.

He nor you need to look out to know it’s your dragon, it’s why he swallows back nervously and parts his lips, but you interrupt him because you know a bunch of shit was going to come out of his mouth.

“That’s what I thought,” you mutter with your voice losing that sweet honey and growing intimidating. “Did you know that rats are easy to kill here? Be that with traps, poison, or corner them where they nest and burn them.”

A loud roar rattles the room and a smirk begins to grow on your face, making Lord Larys clutch onto his cane and lean back against the chair.

“Come at me with that shit again, or threats and some bait to try and control me,” you spat. “And I will not need someone to get their hands dirty for me, my Lord. I enjoy chasing and catching my own prey.” You giggle. “It’s exhilarating. And I bet seeing how fast you run will be quite amusing.”

You stand up from your chair and point to the door. “There’s the door my Lord. It was,” you pause and drag out a deep breath before you finish. “Refreshing speaking with you. Come again.”

Lord Larys gets up from his chair and bows his head before he mutters his goodbye. “Princess.”

You raise your nose in the air as you watch him leave between your lashes.

“Oh,” you add as he’s making his way out. “And if I hear that wicked rumor spread about, I know who to look for, so don’t worry trying to hide, my Astraea is a great tracker.”

Lord Larys doesn’t add anything in return, he walks out in defeat. It’s only once the doors close behind him, and you’re enveloped in silence that you let out a deep and exhausted breath.

Having Jacaerys and a stranger find out is completely different, your brother wouldn’t out you to anyone, or spread your secret like a plague, but a stranger would so you had to show your teeth. You had to be threatening, which is new! It’s such a new feeling, but…it’s such a rush seeing people squirm in fear under you!

You can’t say you dislike having that power or any power at all for that matter. You can’t say you dislike showing it either, you want to relish in it. You want to bear it proudly.

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“And…” you trail off and lower the wooden bow your hands embrace to watch the sharp metal arrow puncture the bullseye. “That’s how you do it.”

You spin on your heels and stretch your arms out like a dragon spreads its wings.

“Eagle eye,” Ser Jason mocks, and you chuckle and jump up to go and collect another arrow from your satchel.

“I mean that—” Ser Jason begins to stumble over his words as he realizes he was perhaps too bold, so you cut him off.

“Hush, it’s okay. And! Actually, my friend Lady Arra Norrey, Lord Stark’s wife, used to call me that because well…at first I was not a good shot.” You muse with a growing smile. “Do you mean it mockingly, Ser?” You shoot him a pointed look that makes him squirm and ends up making you grin. “I’m messing with you Ser.”

He scoffs and lets the tension fall from his shoulders.

“Now watch this,” you keep his attention on you as you turn on your heels and position your arrow before you break into a jog and bring your aim up.

Yet just before you can shoot your arrow, in the flash of a second, you swiftly spin on your heels and hastily aim at the third dragon head on an ugly green banner, before you let the arrow fly.

The arrow whizzes through the air rapidly, and the sharp arrowhead rips through the third dragon right in the beady eye.

“Fantastic!” Ser Jason praises you as he claps for your wickedly good shot.

You bow again as you laugh with glee.

“Lucky shot, but my ego will grow nonetheless,” you tease as you walk over to grab another arrow.

Albeit just as you take the arrow and turn to walk to your spot a guard walks over and clears his throat to let you know he means to talk to you. “Princess, Vhagar is approaching the city.”

A smile breaks on your face and you let the arrow and bow go to pick up your skirts and run through barriers of space thinking of no one else but Aemond, the cure to your solitude, and the warmth that left you in the cold.

Ser Jason is quick to follow after you in a hurry to make sure nothing happens to you whilst you run from courtyard to courtyard and swerve busybodies. When you reach the last gate that leads to the city you come to a stop and he doesn’t fail to come to a stop a few paces behind, making sure he never lets you out of his sight as you wait for your husband to appear down the cobble street, and slightly worrying of what he will do if your beloved husband doesn’t return alive.

It’s an outrageous thought, but he plans ahead just in case. Plus he can’t help but plan ahead. It’s how his mind works.

Nevertheless, his relentless planning is for naught because from one moment to another your fidgeting hands relax, the corner of your lips slowly rise, and your searching eyes lock on him, your husband, your Aemond.

From afar he seems unharmed, but that’s something you still need to make sure of before you truly thank the gods for his return.

Yet checking for his well-being is not what pushes you away from your spot, when his eye finds you just outside the gate your breath catches as you’re riddled with relief over the fact that he’s walking to you on his own two feet and not lifeless on a carriage.

All while Aemond himself comes to a stop, not because he’s overcome with relief that you’re alive, he never feared for your death whilst you stayed in the Red Keep. He freezes and is riddled with disbelief because no matter what, he did not expect you to be waiting for him past the gates of the Red Keep. He expected to find you in your chambers even if he knows how much your excitement can drive you.

And he's not thinking that catching you outside the Red Keep gates bothers him, his heart skips a beat as he realizes that you’re not some fever dream, you’re there, beaming at him before you break into a sprint to rip through barriers of space just to join together in a clashing embrace.

“Aemond,” you chuckle and cry with joy.

Said man is still caught by surprise for a second so he remains stiff before he melts in your warmth and returns your embrace with a much tighter hold that assures you that it's really him.

“I was worried,” you share softly against his neck.

Aemond caresses the back of your head and nuzzles his nose against your neck, letting himself display his affection for you around bypassers because he wants people to know that he is loved and that he loves someone dearly.

“I’m alright. I told you, didn't I?” He whispers and you can't help but hold him tighter as his voice travels in your ears.

“I will always worry,” you mumble before you pull back and grab his arms to look him up and down to check for any injuries. When you find nothing but soot and his messy hair your heart jolts nervously, but you also feel relief wash over another part of you as you reassure yourself that he came back to you in one piece.

“Nothing hurts?” You still ask him and slide your hands down to grab ahold of his. “Vhagar?”

His eye falls on the ground and he hides a timid smile. “No, I’m fine. I did not get hurt. And Vhagar is fine too.” He says quietly.

You study him one more time before you raise your hands to grab his face. You don’t say anything, nor does he. Aemond just slowly brings his eye up and looks at you with admiration while you watch him completely enamored. At that moment, without the need of opening your mouths, expressing how much you love each other, and how much this time apart was like a strain on the heart. It ached you both.

You also keep expressing how glad you are that he’s back, but it’s that twinkle that joy brings to your eyes that makes his jaw clench, and a deep breath to furl through his nose as he remembers the news he bears, news that will break your heart.

“Uh, I did not have time to warn you, but you must have seen,” you interject and fall on his side to hook your arm around his and head back to the safety of the Red Keep. “Aegon and Sunfyre went to Rook’s Rest.”

Aemond nods and rolls his eye in annoyance. “Yes, we unfortunately crossed paths.”

Your hand stiffens around his arm as you remember Aegon’s visit before he left. “Where is his Grace?” You mutter.

Aemond answers with silence for a moment before he gives you his response. “Aegon got hurt during battle.”

The corner of your lips threaten to pull into a happy smile, but you manage to feign worry. “What? How?”

Aemond stops and slips his arm away, but makes sure not to let go. He grabs a hold of one hand, while he uses his other hand to grab your shoulder.

“<Aegon,” he says in a High Valyrian accent before he continues in the same language. “Was fighting another dragon.>”

You hold his gaze and try to find his concern or pity, but rather than finding any flicker of worry, you catch a darkness dancing in his blue eye.

“<And the dragon burned him,” Aemond continues to add stiffly. “It was…a foolish act on his part to go to battle and challenge the dragon, but that act was repaid with dragon fire and broken bones.>”

You can’t pretend to be worried, you don’t care if he’s hurt or close to death. If you could you would clap and celebrate, but you hold it all back behind a shocked expression that raises your eyebrows and parts your lips.

“<What…” you hesitate as the other part of you that had begun to worry slowly starts to take over you. “…Dragon was it?>”

Aemond doesn’t answer right away, he keeps holding your gaze, and the corner of his lips twitch up, while that darkness brings a malicious gleam to his eye that you don’t miss.

It’s not difficult to read into these small expressions, for you at least. For anyone else who doesn’t really know Aemond beyond the facade he puts up wouldn’t realize the truth he masks behind that lie, but you do. You see it clear as day. Is it because he let you read him? Or because you know his soul?

Both, but regardless, you know it was no other dragon that brought Aegon down. Not after Aegon humiliated Aemond at that brothel, not after knowing the tension between the brothers, the pranks Aemond never forgave. It was Aemond and Vhagar. You don’t need him to put it in simple words for you to know.

Nor do you care that it was him. You’re actually proud it was him, and he sees that pride, just like he also reads your speechless praise between your lips twitching up and that gleam in your eye.

What a cruel pair you make huh?

“It was Meleys,” Aemond finishes sharing in the common tongue, bringing that relief and that pride to an end as the worry that only captured a part of you now takes over you completely.

“Meleys?” You mumble and clutch onto his hand while your eyelashes bat frantically as you try to find the reason why she would be there. You warned them. You sent it early so they’d know!

“Yes,” Aemond mutters and brings down the hand he had on your shoulder to grab your hand. “Listen to me...”

He says it. He shares the cruel truth and it all comes crashing down.

You don’t want to accept it at first, you can’t accept what came out of him, but he wouldn’t lie about it. What reason was there to lie about your grandmother dying along with her dragon Meleys?

Yet you want it to be a lie. You want it to be a cruel jest.

“Please,” you beg in a quivering voice. “Do not lie.”

Aemond doesn’t respond, he swallows back nervously and that only helps to reaffirm the truth; your grandmother Rhaenys is dead. She’s gone and so is Meleys.

Your grandmother…is gone. Someone else is dead, and you don’t need to ask who it was, you see that victory in his eye. It was Aemond again.

But right now that’s not what occupies your mind, right now all you know is grief once again. Agonizing, and heart-tearing grief.

It doesn’t let you breathe, it doesn’t let you think of nothing else but the pain. There’s so much pain.

You can’t breathe, it all weighs down on you. You want to be numb to it to not feel a thing, but you feel it all in all its glory.

“No,” you croak and feel streaks of tears rush down your face. “No,” you cry under your breath. “Please no.”

Aemond tries to pull you into an embrace, but you push yourself away and try to catch your breath, you try to take it all in to try and calm yourself down. However, your blood is rushing in your ears, making everything inside you hectic, making the noises around you louder than they are, and making the world move faster than it is which disorientates you.

You don’t know where you are, that knowledge is lost. All you know is the pain and the deep need to see your grandmother again. You want to see her one more time. You want to hold her longer. You don’t want her to be gone forever.

“Please,” you beg under your breath. “Help me.”

She told you that if you needed help to let her know, to tell her. You’re telling her now, you want her help now. You need it like you need to breathe.

But it won’t come, she won’t come to your aide. She won’t embrace you, or tell you that it will all be fine, she’s gone, and you can’t breathe because of it...

Everything around you begins to spin, and you start to feel lightheaded. You want to keep yourself stable, but you can’t find a wall. You actually stumble and the world that was once spinning around you stops, but only because a darkness begins to consume you.

You try to call for help, but your lips part and nothing comes out. You do however hear another voice, but it doesn’t belong to you, as you get swallowed by the darkness you recognize Ser Jason’s panicked voice. “Princess!”

Yet it’s not him who catches you, you know that much. The last thing you see is clear, it’s Aemond’s worried face above yours...

.

.

.

.

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A/N- You reacting to Aegon is how Daemon thought Rhaenyra would react to Blood and Cheese

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[endless-ineffabilities]

sapphire-hearted (part two)

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

After his betrayal, the reader is determined to forget about Aemond. But her attempts at entertaining a potential suitor seem to be thwarted at every turn, by none other than... who else?

themes/warnings: jealous!Aemond, angst, third (and fourth) parties involved but not really

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

a/n: the title changed, yes! Also, can you believe I actually thought this would remain a mere oneshot? But no, I got hungry for more angst and jealousy and all the good stuff. Much love to all my fellow angst lovers for breathing new life into this fic!

When the whispers started, you knew they would eventually reach Aemond.

You were rumoured to be entertaining Lord Ramsay Beesbury, the youngest son of the late Lord Lyman Beesbury.

His older brother, Braxton, was your initial suitor many moons ago. But you refused him, of course. For a certain one-eyed prince.

Lord Braxton had been the one who became Lord of Honeyholt after his father and he has just recently taken a wife. Unlike his father, however, he opted to side with the Greens and to back Aegon's claim.

Ramsay began to seek you out himself, not long after finding out that you are now more receptive to marriage proposals.

Everyone knew. Well, it seems that way, at least. It is common knowledge that you and Aemond were closer than to be expected of mere friends. Any Lord who might ask for your hand knew not to expect to be met with warmth and eagerness. They tried anyway, and failed.

Because each time, and without even needing to say so, they knew that you were choosing Aemond.

"I don't know why you would think that," you lie with a sweet smile, when Ramsay presents his concern about you and Aemond. "Prince Aemond and I are acquaintances, and that is all there is to it."

"Oh." Ramsay smiles, evidently pleased with your response. "My lady, I am glad to be spending this afternoon with you here in the gardens. After some time, I would hope that we can join our Houses, as humble as mine might be." He averts his eyes shyly. Ramsay is surely a gentle lad, as far as you have seen.

"You need not be concerned, my lord. My House is just as humble. But we make do, don't we? At the very least, we do not have to busy ourselves with all the politicking the more nobler Houses seem to get into."

"That is true, my lady." He grins, and you notice lines burst around his eyes, though he is merely five and twenty. Ramsay has spent a life imparting and partaking in laughter.

Unlike a certain sullen, brooding Targaryen. Could you get used to Ramsay? Surely. Could you love him? Perhaps so.

"So what shall we do on the morrow?" Ramsay closes the distance between the two of you on the bench, and his knees brush against yours under your skirts. He takes your hands in his, "I propose - "

He stops, his head whipping to the side, looking toward the treeline.

"What is it, my lord?" you ask, looking in the same direction. But you see nothing.

"I thought I heard something." He whispers, then looks again to you. "Where were we - "

"Fine weather we're having." You nearly jump out of your skin in surprise, as Ramsay is interrupted yet again. Aemond stands about a foot away from your bench, hands clasped behind him in usual commanding stance.

"My prince." Ramsay stiffens, your hands still held in his. You see that Aemond's attention has been drawn to this, his lips curling in distaste.

You both rise from the bench. Ramsay is no longer touching you, but still stands close.

Closer than Aemond would like. His hand clenches into a fist behind his back. He muses about whether it is unbecoming for a Targaryen prince to sock a young Lord in the jaw unprovoked.

He does not much care either way.

"It is, indeed," Ramsay says. "Which is why I thought to take the Lady out for a walk in the gardens."

"And a fine idea it was," you add, purposefully looping your arm around Ramsay's. "It's best that Lord Ramsay and I get to know each other well, if we are to wed soon."

Aemond decides not to punch the young Lord Beesbury. Not just yet. Clearly you're provoking him and he is not going to give you the satisfaction.

"A wedding in the middle of war?" Aemond hums. "Do you not think such a union foreshadows plenty of discontent and strife, my lady?"

You scoff, "Oh, what does it matter? When will we ever not be in a war, in some form or another? That should not stop us from marrying whom we please. From loving whom we please."

Loving. Love. Aemond's heart sinks. You mention love in front of him, when you have yourself wrapped around another man. One whom you plan to wed.

How can you speak of love, when you are planning to sacrifice it? Aemond might transgress with Alys, but at least he is doing it for the realm. For you.

Is he not? Then why does it seem like he is losing you?

Ramsay beams to Aemond, "My lady is truly clever, is she not, my prince?"

"She is." Aemond genuinely agrees. He only has eyes on you, running over the planes of your face which he has committed to memory, all those nights of watching you sleep next to him. He looks upon you with longing.

With love.

For a moment, everything feels right. You and your love gaze upon each other, all else forgotten. Your arm slides down from Ramsay's in your brief reverie.

Then Ramsay clears his throat. "What are you doing here, Prince Aemond? Can we help you with anything?"

"Oh, I don't think you can," Aemond says pointedly, clearly pleased with himself.

"P-pardon me?"

You interrupt the exchange, your voice icy, "Not busy today, my prince? No plans of battle to discuss? Grand spells to concoct?"

"No." Aemond merely shakes his head. "I've no use for those at the moment."

"What a surprise," you sneer.

Ramsay glazes over your mention of spells, thinking he misheard things. He then addresses Aemond, "It seems that the tides have turned toward our favour, my prince. The Greens' favour. I can only hope that the aid my House provides has played a part, albeit small."

Aemond does not mince his words, disdain clear in his voice when he says, "Surely the barrels of honeyed wine that your great House provides has been crucial in advancing our cause, my Lord. If you yourself possessed any mettle, then you would be out there in the battlefield. Instead you sit here in the gardens, wasting your days trying to covet something of mine. "

Unbelievable. Your mouth nearly falls open in shock at his demeanour. "Aemond..."

"I need to speak with you, my lady."

"I am occupied at the moment, my prince." You respond through gritted teeth.

"It's alright," Ramsay nods to you, clearly disheartened. But he holds his ground, and bravely takes your hand in his. Completely aware that Aemond watches, he leans down and plants a kiss on the back of your hand, eyes on yours the entire time.

Aemond feels his restraint dissipating, hanging on by the flimsiest of threads.

"Come with me," Aemond takes your hand, the very same which Ramsay just kissed, and begins pulling you away and walking towards the tall hedges.

You can feel his thumb brushing against your knuckles, as if trying to eliminate any trace of Lord Ramsay.

"Stop - " you say, but to no avail.

When Ramsay is no longer in your line of sight, you pull your hand from Aemond's grip. "What is wrong with you? Ramsay did nothing to deserve that."

"Ramsay," Aemond rolls his eye. His shoulders are stiff, and you can easily tell he is angry.

"I should go find him, and apologize for your behaviour. Clearly you will not."

"I do not need to apologize for anything to that weak-willed, little - "

"Then apologize to me," you interject, voice breaking.

"Whatever for?" He reaches for you, but you stand still. Doing nothing as his hand cradles your face.

"For everything... for being with someone else... for not choosing me."

"But I choose you. I always - "

"You chose Alys."

His face scrunches at that. Aemond thinks that he did not choose Alys, he merely chose to use her powers for his gain. But it will never be her over you.

"Just apologize to me," you shrug. "Or don't. It does not change anything. We can soon set all of this behind us."

You watch him intently, drinking in every slight change in his expression. The curve of his lips. The way his eyelashes brush against his skin when he looks down.

If you have to let him go, you will always want to remember him. To remember everything.

He says nothing for the longest time, just holding your face in his hands.

Until you step away. His arms fall to his sides.

"I have to choose Ramsay, Aemond. I have to do this for myself," you say.

Still, nothing. His gaze is trained downward, and he feels helpless as he can feel you slipping away from him.

You finally muster up the strength to say goodbye, "I'll be seeing you, my love."

Your feet feel heavy as you walk away, crunching against the small rocks on the path.

"What if we were to wed? What then, hmm?" He suddenly says, making you stop in your tracks.

He continues, "Will you choose me?"

Will Aemond finally give up Alys? Will he marry the reader even if it will be frowned upon and seen as an unfit union? *shrugs* you tell me

Will Aegon make an appearance in part three? *nods* yes. Yes, he will.

In my mind, Ramsay is played by Callum Turner or Jonah Hauer-King. Just a thought. Aemond's got some competition *laughs evilly*

I hope I managed to include everyone in the taglist!! If not, just let me know 🖤

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[bbygirl-aemond]

I can't believe they had Alicent give Aegon up after everything she put him through. I hate it here

i know a lot of people are very angry about this and maybe it's just that i find anger to be an exhausting and unproductive emotion generally but i'm not really mad about it in the same way? i know rhaenyra says the "son for a son" line, which makes sense for how rhaenyra is viewing things, but i saw parallels with helaena's choice in how it wasn't really a choice. helaena and jaehaera are, at this point, the only ones alicent can save. and even then, accepting this is no easy task for alicent.

i'm not a huge fan of the "alicent only put aegon on the throne because viserys said so" thing, so let's set that aside and just focus on what has happened this season, since aegon's coronation, that could have brought alicent to this point.

first, aemond has gone off the rails and alicent strongly suspects that he is the one who burned aegon. this has majorly weakened the green's position; their most important player is not reliable and they've lost one of their four dragons. this has also created a sense of danger in the red keep, especially in light of aemond's burning of sharp point. aemond has demonstrated a pattern of hurting easy targets when he feels angry and alicent has reason to fear for aegon's life, but also for hers and helaena's and even jaehaera's.

second, remember that orwyle and larys are rehabilitating aegon in secret to avoid aemond coming after him to finish the job. we as the audience know that aegon has woken up, and is walking around again, and is making progress. alicent does not know this. for all she knows, he's barely woken up and will probably live but is not really making progress in his recovery. i'm not saying that alicent wants to mercy kill him, because she does first try to find a way to spare his life, but from her perspective aegon is still very much out of the picture when it comes to the war efforts.

lastly, rhaenyra has added three dragons to her cause. this is the most significant thing and is something i think most people who are upset aren't giving enough weight to. seasmoke and silverwing are both large adult dragons, and vermithor is a massive dragon who rivals vhagar. alicent is here to surrender to rhaenyra because at this point she very understandably does not see a possibility where she and her family win.

all of these things happened after alicent crowned aegon and are things she could not have anticipated. so alicent is looking ahead at two futures. both of them are futures in which her son does not sit the throne because rhaenyra has won. in the first future, the one that would come to pass if alicent does nothing, rhaenyra uses her dragon power to take the throne by force. thousands of soldiers and smallfolk die, and aemond probably kills aegon before rhaenyra can even get to him, and alicent's whole family dies, and rhaenyra gets her throne anyways. in the second future, the one alicent is trying to make a reality, rhaenyra is let into king's landing and assumes the throne. the soldiers and smallfolk are largely spared, and alicent is able to save the female members of her family.

alicent did not choose to throw aegon under the bus after years of forcing him to assume the throne. she put him on the throne, yes, but now she and her family are basically guaranteed to lose in her eyes after the events of this season, so she is trying to salvage what she can. and even still, even knowing that there is no true way to spare aegon, she wants to. the part where she tries to justify keeping aegon alive is the pure denial of a mother who does not want to accept that there is no way to get her son out of this alive. she is faced with the same false choice helaena was: save your daughter, or save no one. of course she makes the same choice. of course she saves the only one she can still save.

[veloursdor]

the thing about larys strong is that i think he's been lonely his entire life, lonelier than even he realised/admitted to himself. he craves connection, someone to see him for who he is. and that's what's been guiding most of his actions throught the entire time we've known him.

when he saw alicent being unheard and unseen, he tried to form a connection with her as he saw himself in her (through manipulations of course, but his intention there when saying "i could be your ally" were sincere). but she rejected him (by refusing to see him as a man, by being horrified at his true self (the harrenhal fire), etc) and thus he grew to resent her and want to control her/humiliate her like she "humiliated him", probably thinking it was enough because of the power she gave him.

but then viserys died and alicent's power died with him.

spoilers for season 2 of house of the dragon below the cut

i think his "love" for her... changed or was put on the back of his mind after 2x04, especially after he sees the moon tea and she's in pain. when he asks her about criston, his reaction to her words is as if he is confused, as if he's recalculating what he thought of her because he's seeing her in a whole new light.

and maybe he is seeing her truly for the first time ever.

he said "you and i are the same", was always listening in on her conversations to gather information, maybe even convincing himself by doing so that she truly was like him. but, i think that, when larys says "you have not been yourself" is his way of saying "who are you? are you who i've always thought you were or someone i do not know?" and has to change his view of her, of what he convienced himself he saw in her.

maybe he sees that he's been living in a lie made of his own words.

so, when the council scene happens, he pities her and rejects her idea, because it has no ground and she's grasping at straws. (i do think he does feel sorry for rejecting her but he also doesn't have enough solid ground with aemond as regent (his position in the small council is fairly new) and slighting aemond would cost him the power he has, so he stays quiet and looks away).

however, he also manages to drive a nail to alicole's coffin but he walks away without looking back at the mess it left.

they then don't share a scene at all for the rest of the season.

from then on all his scenes are with aegon, and we see a side of larys we haven't seen before.

ageon gave him power (of course larys manipulated aegon with the Hand comment) because of his "loyalty" following blood and cheese (i still believe larys "let it happen") and made him his master of whispers. he placed larys in the small council (when alicent never did in the 6 years she acted as regent) and gave him status outside of the dungeons. he "brought him [larys] out of the shadows" in a way.

the show has made a point to tell us, since episode one of season two, that larys has been looking at aegon the same way he used to look at alicent in season one, staring him down as if he could see what he's made of, constantly analysing and calculating how to best approach him.

he made small attempts at conversations and funny lines ("that castle is more crippled than me") as the whole alicent thing is going on.

and then the battle of rook's rest happened.

with aegon barely holding on, we have a scene where larys is honest, vulnerable, sincere maybe for the first time ever (yes there's manipulation, but also genuine compassion). he sees the struggles aegon will have to face because he lived them himself.

like with alicent in the weirdwood, he tried to form a connection with aegon. but where alicent "rejected" his true self, aegon instead listened to what larys was saying, saw the truth in it and raged, which made larys feel seen and heard, beyond manipulation and twisted words, probably for the first time in his life

larys, for all his talk that love is a downfall, craves connection, the desire to not be alone in the world. he does feel love.

and whereas alicent rejected his love and was disgusted by his true self, aegon welcomed his help, invited his advice, and embraced his aid to become stronger

i think larys will be loyal to him as long as aegon allows his love and it does not fester into resentment, like his love for alicent did