#you cannot tell me he wouldn't be a baela

[kxrandomness]

GoT/HotD AU: Minho and his dragon, Meleys

"I am blood and fire. Driftmark must pass to salt and sea." - Baela Targaryen

(gifs source: daenerys-stormborn)

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: i caved and did an actual Ewan fic! Given that the lad is more of a public persona nowadays, I reckon it's fine (?) This is pure self-indulgence for all my Ewan loves. May have a continuation but idk for now, enjoy!!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan are paired for press interviews. Despite barely having any scenes together and only knowing each other in passing on set, the chemistry they share cannot be denied...

Your first round of press takes place in a primped up hotel suite in Paris, thanks to the team at HBO.

You are an up and coming actress, much like some of your costars in the show, but the pressure is heavier on you because you were entering in season two, whereas everyone was already well-acquainted with one another.

Your few scenes were mostly with Jace and Baela, so you grew close to Harry and Bethany.

However, the media team decided to pair you up with Ewan for the day. A little fun initiative was set by the team that a character from the Blacks would be do press with a counterpart from the Greens - hence, yourself and Ewan.

You're nervous as you walk down the hallway, unable to fully pay attention to the instructions your lovely assistant gives you.

She tells you about the different interviewers for the day, bloggers and magazine writers from all over the world. She reminds you that each one will only be for a maximum of 5 minutes, so it shouldn't be too complicated. She smiles and eagerly says, "Take a deep breath, you got this!", as you reach the suite doors.

But in your mind, all you can recall is your first interaction with Ewan, almost a year ago right after the table read. You had nervously blurted out to him that Aemond is your favourite character, after he just asked, "How are you?". He laughed, said thank you, before he was pulled away in conversation by Tom.

You pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that things will fare better today. That you won't get all tongue-tied when those steel blue eyes land on you.

Upon entering the room, the team is quick to fuss over you. Sometimes you forget that you're actually an actress now. A celebrity, some might say. It all feels surreal and you have a inkling it won't ever stop being this way.

Ewan is already seated in front of the camera, and he stands to give you a hug as you finally walk over.

"Hey there, how are you?" he smiles widely, smelling like cigarettes and something muskier as he wraps his arms around you.

Unroll your tongue. Rework your brain. Calm down.

"Hey, Ewan!" you respond. "I'm doing great, happy to see you again."

"Well, I only wish we could have had more time together on set." Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to take your seat before he does the same. "But next season perhaps? Who knows?"

"Oh, sure." You settle in, pleased by the fact that your chairs are only about a foot apart. "We can both look forward to my character giving Aemond the arse kicking he deserves."

He laughs, eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on now, I was thinking our characters are actually quite compatible, no?"

"Well, I sure wouldn't want to step on Alys' shoes. She'd probably curse my character all the way to Yi Ti."

"Hmm," he hums, biting his lip. You can't help but hear Aemond when he does that. "I say you can always count on Aemond and Vhagar to come to the rescue of a beautiful maiden such as yourself."

Well, you'll be damned. Ewan, while still an introvert of his own sort, is as charming as can be. If he's turning it on to get himself hyped for the press, it's working.

It's definitely working on you, to say the least.

The media manager gives the signal for the first interview to begin, and a reporter walks in, all ready with prepared script in hand.

"Here we go," you mutter, facing forward.

"Good luck," Ewan replies.

You both shake the reporter's hand, and he introduces himself as Jared.

"So guys," Jared begins. "Why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about what we can expect from your characters this season?"

The question is easy, and it doesn't take long for you and Ewan to think it through. Jared asks a few more basic questions, before drawing the attention more to you.

"When you watched season one, did you have a favourite character?" he asks you.

You smile, "Oh, I mean, I have to say - and Ewan already knows this, by the way - that Aemond was my favourite character."

"Was?" Ewan says, feigning shock. "Unacceptable."

"Was... Is... " you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from Jared. "I think I might be more a Daemon girl now."

"Oh!" Jared exclaims happily. "Does Matt know about this?"

"I'll be sure to tell him - "

Ewan interjects, shaking his head at you, "There's no need to tell him, because I'll convert her back to Team Aemond in no time, trust me."

"Daemon is awesome, though," you say to him, smiling.

"Sure." Ewan makes a face like that fact doesn't matter. Wasn't he the one who said that Daemon would be the character he would most like to play if not Aemond?

"And Caraxes is my favourite dragon." You share a look with Jared, hoping he would agree.

"Yes!" Jared says. "Caraxes is the best dragon in the show, in my opinion."

"Ah, you're both wrong," Ewan says. "My Vhagar is the oldest and baddest dragon in all of the land."

"My Vhagar, he says," you joke. "Seems like someone still hasn't shed Aemond for this press tour."

"And I never will, darling." His gaze is intense when he turns to you, and you clear your throat to fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks.

"Alright, they're giving me the wrap-up," Jared thankfully breaks the tension. "It was a pleasure talking to you guys, congratulations on the new season!"

One interview down, and your nerves have already considerably subsided. Ewan tapping your arm to start up a conversation once more surely helps in distracting you.

In the best damn way possible.

"How do you think we did? That wasn't too bad, was it?"

"I think we did quite well," you casually offer a high five, but your heart skips a beat when Ewan interlaces your suspended hands for just a moment.

"I'm glad they paired me with you," Ewan says, after releasing your hand. You hold on to the armrests to keep your fingers from twitching.

"I am, too," you admit. "I am a fan of you, after all, but I think you already know that."

He blushes, "Well, that's not a bad thing. I think you're a fantastic actress. I must have seen your first film a good ten times."

"You mean my first and only film," you add humbly. "But thank you."

"Only film for now," he affirms. "No doubt this is only the beginning for you, darling. With your talent and your charisma, I'm sure you have potential scripts piled up already."

"I could say the same for you! Have you seen what your fans say about you online? You're the internet's new boyfriend, Ewan Mitchell."

The media manager announces the next interview, but Ewan follows up with a response for you under his breath, "I have seen some things. But when I have a girlfriend, I'll make sure she won't have to share me at all."

Oh, so apparently he is single. But wait - why is he telling you this?

You don't get to mull over that thought. For the time being, the next interview starts and you make sure you do a good job at what you're paid to do - promoting the series.

Not daydreaming about getting with a costar, for heaven's sake. Stay professional.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You feel lightheaded after finishing the seventh - or had it been the eighth? - interview.

Your assistant delivers a coffee to you during the twenty-minute break. Ewan had stepped out to the balcony to have a smoke, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He certainly is everything you expected him to be, and so much more. Insightful, cheeky, dedicated. An artist, through and through. He was in the business for all the right reasons, passion and respect for the craft.

If he had any flaws, you weren't privy to them yet. If there are any reasons for you not to be attracted to him, you didn't know what those were yet.

And with every flirtatious remark and pointed smile, you can't deny the hope blooming in you.

"Hey," he reappears, pulling you out of your musings. "I hope you don't mind that I smell of smoke."

No, you didn't, not when it's him.

"Don't worry about it," you reassure him. You tilt your head forward to take a sip of your coffee, but a lock of your hair falls in front of your face. Annoyed, you think to reach for it, but Ewan beats you to it, tucking it back in place.

"There you go, darling," he croons, gesturing for you to proceed in drinking.

"Th-thanks." His eyes don't leave yours as you take a slow sip.

"So," you say, desperate to break the silence, "which interview did you enjoy the most so far?"

"How can I possibly choose? I mean, I really liked the one with ComicSociety, the guy that said our characters have a lot of chemistry and should get together next season. He's right, I already told you!"

"Ohhh, sure, that will go down really well with the Blacks and Greens."

He smirks, "I don't see why not?"

"For one, Aemond is ensnared by Alys, and my character will never give up fighting for Rhaenyra. I just don't see it happening, Ewan."

"Right," he mutters thoughtfully, "there is still Alys in the picture."

"Still in the picture? With the amount of steamy scenes you two have lined up for season three, I'd say she will be Aemond's entire picture in and of herself."

"Hmm," he glances at you once, then looks down. Dare you think it, does he look disappointed?

"But hey," you add lightly, "maybe we can talk to Ryan and he can flip the entire script just for our characters."

"Yeah," his cheeky smile resurfaces, "maybe you can take Alys' place."

Take the place of Alys? Of Alys. Is he insinuating...

"Next round of interviews, guys!" The media manager announces to the room.

"Here we go again, darling," Ewan squeezes your hand once, before putting on his professional face once more.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

By the end of it all, not even caffeine can perk you up. You were exhausted, you and Ewan having finished four full hours of press.

Your assistant comes to your aid, ready to direct you back to your own hotel room.

"This has been such a pleasure, Ewan, really." You stand, this time initiating the hug.

He squeezes you gently, humming in your ear. When you pull apart, he says, "I honestly wouldn't mind trudging through hours and hours of press with you."

That's sweet of him. You're too tired to mask the warmth that rises to your cheeks. "And I feel the same. Today couldn't have gone any better."

"Truly, and listen, maybe we could - "

"Ewan!" The manager approaches. "I'm so sorry to rush with this, but we need to film just a quick soundbite with you for Aemond. Just two to three questions for the Max Tiktok account?"

"Oh, okay - " Ewan is reluctant to turn away from you.

"Perfect! If you could just stand there by the windows please..." The manager already has him by the arm, directing where he has to go.

"We have to go," your assistant says. "Still have to prep for tomorrow."

"I'll see you soon, Ewan!" you call out to him. "Thanks again."

He gives a half-hearted wave, dejected as he watches you walk out of the room.

"That wasn't too bad," you share with your assistant as you enter the elevators. "Not bad at all, actually."

"Oh, you did so well," she compliments. "It definitely helps with the press that you and Mr. Mitchell have such insane natural chemistry."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

In the calm of your hotel room, you get ready for bed.

Just when you're about to finish with your nightly routine, your phone rings from your bedside table. You're quick to rush over, thinking it could be your assistant or your manager, with an urgent update about work.

But no - it's an unknown number. A UK number, as it appears.

Confused, you click answer anyway, putting it to your ear with a tentative, "Hello, who is this?"

"Hi, darling."

"Ewan?"

"Yeah, uhm, I hope I didn't disturb you - "

"Not at all," your answer comes out in a rushed breath.

"I also hope you don't mind that I got my assistant to ask your assistant to give me your number? It's what I wanted to ask you before you left today."

"Oh." You feel fully awake now, by some miracle, butterflies finding home in your stomach. "I don't mind. I... I should have given you my number, anyway. I have most of the cast's, in case I need to get a hold of you guys."

"Hmm, right," he says from the other end. You hear him calmly breathing, the sound strangely comforting, and wonder if he can hear the same from you.

He says, "I just wanted to keep hearing your voice. Didn't get enough of it today," and your heart just about stops.

"Oh. Okay," is all you are able to respond with.

"What are you doing?"

"Just... just getting ready for bed." Phone pressed to your ear, you shuffle around the room, putting some things back in place.

He says nothing for a few seconds, but you still hear his breathing, and some shuffling in the background. It occurs to you that he might just be as nervous as you are now.

Maybe.

"Listen," he finally says, "do you want to hear my pitch to Ryan about why our characters should get together next season?"

A genuine laugh escapes you. He sure is persistent. Playful, sure, but you're definitely willing to play along.

"Let's hear it."

"First," he says, "you have to renounce Daemon as your favourite character - "

"Not a chance."

" - and swear your love for Aemond."

"Keep dreaming."

He laughs, and you can only picture the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Aww darling," he teases, "don't you love me?"

💌 part two - part three

The OGs will know that the final line is a nod to my first ever Aemond fic! 🖤

Did this slightly delay my series works? Yes, yes it did. Do I regret it? For Ewan frickin Mitchell, I would never ~

[jetblack4realz]

battle baths - jacaerys velaryon x reader

summary - jace runs off to fight the greens and you're left to clean up the wounds

word count - 3.7k

______________________________________________________________

"she doesn't understand! why won't she just trust me?" he shouted, running a hand through his hair as he sighed exasperatedly. you stayed laying in your bed, back propped against the headboard as you watched him with an apologetic smile.

"she's worried for you is all," you tried, earning another dramatic sigh from the prince.

"she needn't be. i am well-trained in both dragonriding and the sword, i would be perfectly fine on my own," he said.

"i know that, my love," you said. "but i think she fears your loss. if she were to lose you, after already losing luke... it'd ruin her. just as it would ruin me."

"and yet you still would allow me leave. you believe me capable to fight in this war, a fight for not just her throne, but mine as well," he said, looking to you with raised brows.

you hesitated, offering him a small shrug of your shoulders. "i have no doubts in your capabilities, jace. i cannot say that i would not be terrified if you left to fight, but i have enough faith in you that i could let you go. i understand the implications of your position and your desire to fight - it's the same as i."

"is she sending you with the dragonseed on the morrow?" he asked. "will you and baela be flying against the greens? she wouldn't divulge her intentions for you."

you sighed deeply, leaning further into the headboard. "i am tasked with the retrieval of my father. your mother believes that i have the best chance at staying his hand and calling him home since apparently he left immediately after an altercation they had. and well, he wouldn't listen to baela."

"when did she tell you this?"

"just after supper. just before i came to bed," you hummed with a thin smile. "i leave in two days' time. i was wondering if you would like to accompany me?"

"i doubt she would even allow that. she was in shambles when she discovered my leave to the twins," he answered with a shake of his head. he let out another huff of angry breath. "she even sends you away and yet keeps me trapped here. what does she expect me to do? how does she expect me to become an honorable king when i cannot even fight for my own claim?"

"jace," you said finally, his eyes drawing to you with a desperate sort of look in them. you smiled softly, tilting your head as you looked at him. "we will figure out something to do; you will fight in this war. but, it is doing you no good to dwell on it now, we will find something in the morning. for now, come to bed. you need rest, love."

he sighed for the upteenth time, nodding in resignation. he slipped out of his boots, his night clothes already adorning his body, and stalked to his side of the bed, blowing out the only remaining candle in the room that rested on his nighttable. after sliding down so your head rested on the pillow once more, you drew his blankets for him and held your arms out.

instead of falling into your arms as you expected, he wrapped you in his own, causing yours to wind around his torso. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lying on his back and causing you to lie halfway on top of him, legs intertwined beneath the thick blankets that winter required. his muscles soothed as your hand ran up and down his chest to his shoulders and neck and back down again, prompting him to relax.

"rest, my sweet," you mumbled, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. he breathed out through his nose, his eyelids fluttering closed as his hold on your waist tightened. he turned his head so it was next to yours, the pillow shifting as he nodded.

"you do too, okay?" he said softly, his fingers tracing circles on your nightdress-clad hip. "goodnight, my love."

"goodnight jacaerys."

--

the next morning you were awoken by the sun, a slight groan slipping from your lips as you rolled over in efforts to avoid the light. you pulled the blankets to your chin once more, scooting further down the bed to reach jacaerys.

except you soon found the edge of the bed - your husband wasn't there.

you sat up with furrowed brows, squinting your eyes to adjust to the light and see if he'd entered the bathroom, but he hadn't.

"jace?" you called out. "jace!"

in moments you were out of bed, a sinking feeling in your stomach. you quickly dressed in your riding clothes, tugging your boots on as you stumbled towards the door.

you raced to the dragonpit, ignoring the looks the maidservants were giving you as you passed them and waving off the guards as they called for you.

"vyraxes!" you called. "māzigon! adere! (come! quick!)"

you could hear your dragon moving through the mount, her loud screeches too similar to caraxes' bringing your heart to some semblance of ease. the red and gold dragon suddenly appeared in front of you, waiting patiently for you to mount the saddle. you were quickly to do so, offering her grateful pats before urging her forward.

"iksis vermax kesīr, ñuha riña? (is vermax here, my girl?)" you mumbled.

you flew through the caves and tunnels to where you knew the dragon normally rested, but you couldn't find him. you knew exactly where he was - and where he'd taken his idiot rider. you cursed under your breath as you returned to the landing. "i'm going to kill him."

--

during your time in harrenhal, you waited for word from him, or any word of how his and the dragonseeds' escapes were going. it seemed no one knew anything of their endeavors, though daemon was incredibly impressed with the young prince's defiant leave of station.

"he needs to be on the battlefield," he'd told you as you walked through the cursed halls, the sounds of his armies training echoing through the stone corridors. "he's the crown prince - knowledgable of both the sword and the dragon."

"father, i know," you answered. "that's not my problem. i agree he needs to be out, but i simply need to know if he's alright. and next time, i need him to tell me where he's going before he goes."

daemon laughed. "of course, young one. keep the reigns on your husband."

"not reigns, just communication," you answered with a roll of your eyes. you eyed the soldiers filling the courtyard as they trained, their movements sloppy and unpracticed as they fought one another. "no offense, but i do not wish for him to end up as you - running off out of the blue with no word to your wife of where, why, or when you'll be home."

he considered your words with a nod, hands clasped over his sword. "yes, i wish that for you as well. i reckon it worries you so."

"it does. and though i know exactly where he is, with those blasted dragonseed and baela, i would have preferred him to tell me. i trust in his abilities, but if something were to happen and he not come home? i haven't said goodbye," you said, tone solemn as you continued on with your father. your words rendered him silent as he mulled them over, coming to a realization himself.

"return to dragonstone. bring word to rhaenyra that i have an army for her and that we intend to march in a few days. i will attempt to return to her before then, and there we will speak," he said finally.

your eyes flashed to the man, a soft smile pulling at your lips. you paused in your steps, hand reaching out to rest on his forearm. "you do have a heart, kepa," you hummed with a light laugh. "i'll tell her. thank you."

he sighed deeply, giving you a reluctant smile before pulling you into a hug. "you're welcome. i expect to see you on the battlefield next to the prince here soon. i've trained you accordingly."

"i know. perhaps you can convince the queen to allow me upon your arrival. and maybe argue for jace's case as well - i imagine she is not pleased."

"no, i doubt she is," he sighed, stepping back but keeping you an arm's length. he smiled at you again, a fatherly smile that always eased your heart as a child and continued to do so now. "i will ensure you are entered into the fight. it would not be wise to keep vyraxes hidden away when she could be a fiercesome foe to vhagar."

"she's not that big yet," you said with furrowed brows.

"no, but if it is her and vermax against the beast you'll likely win. she's already injured from meleys' attack," he answered, nodding encouragingly. a small smirk pulled at one side of his mouth. "or you and i could have a go at the old hag. our win would be inevitable."

"i'll await your arrival then," you said with a small laugh. "farewell, father. i will see you soon."

"yes. be safe," he said, letting go of your shoulders and nodding to where your dragon was waiting on the outdoor cobblestone walkway that exited the castle, her scales gleaming in the sunlight.

"you as well," you wished him, offering him a curtsy and wave as you rushed towards your dragon. "māzigon va, riña (come on, girl)."

you mounted her quickly, ushering her into the sky with a clap of the reigns and a call of, "bē (up)!"

--

it was nearly a week before daemon arrived in dragonstone, the man rushing to his and rhaenyra's shared chambers and disappearing for hours before emerging again. you reckoned the queen was relieved at his appearance given the reaction she'd given you when you informed her of his intentions. you sat at a table in the dining hall, an old valyrian romance in your hands as you lounged. you missed the presence of joffrey and the two little boys at that moment, remembering the way they would beg you to read aloud or abandon the book altogether and join them in play. their absence, and their elder brothers', different may they be, were all reminders of the raging war surrounding your secluded island.

"she received word a few nights ago." you looked up quickly, brows raised as you lowered your book to look at your father fully. he stood in the doorway, one hand on the hilt of his sword as he watched you, nodding slowly. "they're to return as soon as they can. apparently things did not go to plan at riverrun and they need to recoup. i've convinced her to allow you to leave with them."

"and jace? is she going to send him out once more?" you asked, sitting up straighter. he offered a grim smile.

"yes. the prince will see battle again," he answered.

"good. thank you," you told him before suddenly furrowing your brow. "i'm sorry, did you say she heard of their return a few nights ago? and she did not inform me?"

he sighed deeply, glancing at the wall as if there was a script for him to read as an answer to your concerns. "jacaerys is... not in good condition. in the raven it was insisted upon that he was okay, but a second paper from baela implied his injury. she didn't want to worry you."

"didn't want to worry me? i could've gone out and helped, i could've retrieved him-"

"which is the exact opposite of what she needed you to do. your sudden appearance could have incited chaos and things were rough enough as it was. be patient, child, and he will return just fine," daemon said, brows raised as he cut you off.

"but-"

the doors were slammed open suddenly, two guards panting for breath entering as they looked to both you and the king consort. one of them swallowed hard, standing straighter.

"your graces, the dragonriders have returned."

you raced out of the room and down the hall, making your way back to the dragonpit in order to welcome them in. a rushing maester yelled your name as he passed, catching your attention.

"the prince is in your chambers. we are tending to his wounds now and i'm confident he would appreciate your company," the man told you. you offered him a grateful smile and turned on your heel, following him to your rooms.

when you entered, the first thing you noticed was how dirty, grimy, and bloody his skin and clothes were. there were small cuts adorning his hands, one scraping across the top corner of his forehead. his legs were covered in ash, his cloak charred at the ends as he laid on the bed, his face twisted in pain. you then noticed the gash across his abdomen that the maesters were picking at, carefully peeling his tunic and chest covering from the wound.

"jace," you breathed out, entering the room more fully and shutting the door behind you. the maesters barely spared you a glance before continuing with their work, finally removing the strips of cloth and beginning to clean the bloody, dirty, potentially infected cut with alcohol.

the prince grunted, eyes screwing up as he gripped the sheets tightly. you were at his side in a moment, opting for the opposite side of the maesters in order to stay out of their way. he instinctively reached out for you, taking your hand and gripping it tightly. he opened his eyes and offered you a lopsided, pained smile.

"hello, love," he said, his voice scratchy from too much use.

"what the hell happened to you?" you breathed out, brushing his hair from his face and looking over the cuts and bruises that were splattered on his skin. he shrugged lamely.

"war," he muttered. "we were ambushed in the night. i'm lucky i'm as good as i am with a sword or else i'd be dead."

"is baela okay?" you asked worriedly. you had fond memories of swordfighting with your father in the training yard, but baela had no part in any of them. her and rhaena spent most of their time with their mother, laena, and you reveled in your time with daemon. with this caused you worry - baela had no experience in the sword. had she made it out?

"she'd been keeping watch on moondancer," he answered shortly, wincing as the maesters began pressing a balm into his raw skin. "she's perfectly fine."

"thank the gods," you breathed out. you looked at him with a gentle look, worry evident in your gaze. "are you going to be alright?"

"i'm fine, love," he said, feigning a smile before the maesters touched a particularly sore spot and he squeezed your hand, eyes shutting quickly as he breathed out sharply. when he looked back at you, the dishonest smile returned. "just fine."

the maesters continued their work as you sat with him in silence, simply running your thumb over the back of his hand soothingly and letting him rest. once he was suitably wrapped, the men stood, looking to you and your husband.

"we will send for the maidservants to bathe you. do not worry for the safety of the wrappings, they can be wetted and they will dry quickly. you must get much rest tonight, your highness, and drink water. i will be back on the morrow to change the bandages," the maester who had led you here said, nodding to you both.

"no need to send for the servant girls," you told him, offering a thankful smile. "i can handle it. thank you for your services."

"of course. goodnight, your highnesses," he said, all three bowing before exiting your chambers.

you looked to your husband, smiling softly as he looked back at you.

"do you want to bathe now, or would you like a few moments?" you asked. he sighed deeply, shaking his head.

"no, let's get it done with," he said.

"alright, my love. wait here and i will ready the bath."

he kept his eyes train on your figure as you filled the tub with hot water that had been left at the door, sprinkling soothing salts into it and gathering the vanilla scented soaps that had been gifted him by a woman from dorne at his last name day. you stood straight again, looking to him with a confused smile.

"what?" you asked, tilting your head. "why do you stare?"

"i missed you these last days," he told you.

your smile softened, turning almost sad as you approached him, offering him your hands for him to rise. he did as you requested, swinging his legs slowly off the edge to begin standing, your proximity awfully close as he did so. "i missed you too, jace."

you led him carefully to the bath, having him hold the edge for stability as you assisted him in undressing. you tried not to stare at his body too much, but you were not blind to the smirk that pulled at his lips as you examined his toned chest and arms. you set the bloodied clothes to the side and held his arm as he stepped into the bath.

you pulled the stool to your vanity to the edge of the tub, sitting behind him with the soaps at your side. you poured some into your hand, dipping your fingers into the water at his side before lathering it in your hands. once sufficiently bubbly, you began rubbing it over his shoulders and arms. you took extra care around the small cuts by his neck and scrubbed at bit of dried blood and ash on his chest.

"you have to tell me before you leave," you told him as his head rolled back in contentment, your fingers beginning to work the knots out of his shoulders. "i knew where you'd gone, yes. but i was worried sick. i'd like to wish you off next time."

"mother said you will be with me next time," he answered, turning his head enough to glance at you. you continued to knead his tense muscles, watching as his stress visibly left his figure and eased his features. "i am glad to have you at my side, though i have to admit my worries for you as well. i apologize for not telling you - i thought you would be scared for me and that maybe if i left without your knowing i'd ease you of some of that burden. i realize now that it likely made it worse."

"it did," you answered, hand cupping as you dipped it into the water and rinsed off his shoulders. once that was finished, you began wetting his hair, turning his face forward again. "but, i understand that you thought it would help. it will be better when we go off together. we'll be able to protect one another."

"that would ease my worries," he hummed as you began massaging more soaps into his hair. "being able to watch over you."

"mine as well," you said. your fingers worked expertly through his curls, rubbing circular motions on his scalp and scraping it gently with your fingernails the way you knew he enjoyed.

"your a godsend, my sweet wife," he said, nearly moaning at the sensation of your head scratches. you giggled.

"you will surely sleep well tonight," you told him.

"yes, i will," he agreed, leaning back into your touch even more. you took extra time as you washed his hair, continuing the scalp massage for much longer than normal. his eyes were closed when you finally moved to rinse it out, his breathing becoming more shallow. you laughed quietly to yourself as you rinsed all the soap from his curls, before returning your fingers to his shoulders. you leaned around and pressed a kiss to his cheek, whispering in his ear, "wake up, love. let's get you to bed."

he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut before sitting up fully again. you offered him a hand as he stepped out, grabbing a towel off the dresser and beginning to wrap him in it. you helped him dry off and then to change into his sleep clothes, grabbing the silkiest tunic as to not bother his skin.

"i'll go without," he told you, shaking his head as you offered it to him. "just some trousers, please."

you smiled slightly as you followed his request, the boy slipping the trousers up his legs before following you to your large bed. you realized quickly that the sheets were stained with his blood and char.

"allow me," he said, beginning to strip the bed of its covers. he moved with surprising ease, the only change in his posture being an awkward bend at the waist.

"thank you, my prince," you said, grabbing the fresh linens from a closet by the bed. he tossed the soiled ones at the base of the bed and helped you pull the new ones across the mattress. after placing the final blanket, you began blowing out the candles, but before you could reach the last one, jace grabbed your arm.

"what is it?" you asked, looking up at him. he shrugged, smiling softly.

"i'd just like to kiss my wife in the light," he said, pulling you towards him and pressing his lips firmly to yours. instinctively, you tilted your head, allowing him to capture you in a breathless kiss that reemphasized his being gone for weeks. you really had missed him.

your hands raked through his wet curls, his finding a home on your waist as he kissed you again and again and again. finally, after you began giggling into his mouth, he removed himself from you with a cheeky grin. he pecked your lips again.

"alright. time for bed."

you blew out the last candle slipped under the covers, jacaerys immediately turning over to wrap you securely in his arms, your own being careful of the wound at his side.

"thank you, my love," he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "goodnight."

you sighed contentedly, leaning into his embrace and pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

"goodnight, love."

[danxiex0]

When it comes to Omegaverse HoTD I don't think a lot of people realize the full potential of it.

Picture this:

Lucerys Velaryon is the first Omega born into the Targaryen line since the doom of Ol Valyria. He gets spoiled.

Rhaenyra has only the finest clothes made for him. Daemon will do anything his sweet Omegan son asks of him, even let the little Omega crawl into bed between the two Alpha's because he had a nightmare. Jace is overprotective. Joffrey is Daemons mini in regard to Luke. Rhaena and Baela love their precious little brother so much they would kill for him. Rhaenys would give into his demands, he doesn't even have to demand because the moment Luke wants something she'll give it to him. Corlys will bring him back only the finest pearls and jewels from his travels, the pearls get braded into his hair or sewed into his clothes, the same with the jewels.

So Lucerys gets what he wants, when he wants and if he's denied he has an army of people ready to demand he have it or else.

The whole Vaemond story still happens. Only difference is, Lucerys had asked Daemon and his grandsire not to kill him and instead send him to Grandsire Corlys so that he could deal with his little brother.

The Greens seethe at the fact that Luke doesn't even have to beg.

That night after the whole feast mishap Aemond corners Luke in his chambers and threatens to take his eye.

Lucerys goads his uncle because he was raised by Daemon 'Fuck around and Find out" Targaryen and in the end Aemond kisses him.

No love or passion. Just pure unadulterated rage.

Hate sex ensues, bc it's Lucemond what would you expect.

Aemond regrets it the next day. His repressed ass lashes out and says some very unsavory things, as one does.

Luke and his family leave Kings landing after that and the next time he and Aemond meet again is at Storms end.

Luke is there to deliver a message.

"I am not a dog your mother can just order around. At least King Aegon brings me a marriage pact. So, tell me boy. Which of my daughters will you marry?" Borros asked.

Lucerys looked at the girls. Three Betas and one Omega.

He looks at Aemond and feels his heartbeat quicken and then it stops at the reminder of that day.

'You are a whore just like your mother!'

'Wanton bastard!'

'You bewitched me! That is the only explanation for as to why I ended up in your bed between you whorish thighs!'

Such cruel words and he would swallow the now.

Lucerys looks at Lord Borros.

"Sadly, my Lord none of your daughters would be a suitable match for me as they are either Beta's or Omega. However, there are two Alpha's within this hall. Both of whom have a chance at my hand but only one is not betrothed at nor wed, my Lord," Lucerys said with a kind smile.

Lord Borros had his tongue paralyzed for but a moment before he asked, "What do you meen?"

Lucerys smiled as he could feel Aemonds anger radiating off him in waves.

"What I am saying is that even though I cannot marry your daughters I can still marry you. Think of it my Lord. Lord Borros Baratheon, Lord of the Stormlands and Lucerys Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Heir to Driftmark. We'd make a handsome pair, wouldn't we?" He asked with a shy smile.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Lord Borros agrees and two moons later Aegon II Targaryen bends the knee to his sister and Lord Borros marries Lucerys.

Even on his deathbed Borros never questions why his sons, Rhaegar, Rhaegor, Aenys, and Darke, and his daughters, Rhaella, Aemma, Lucera, Deanys, Daela, and Valeria have silver hair and purple eyes.

Nor does he question the closeness of his Omega bride Lucerys and his sworn shield Aemond.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Brave 🐲| Baela Targaryen Headcanon

GOT/HOTD Masterlist

Being the companion (and secret lover) of Baela Targaryen would look like:

You were childhood friends, your father a Lord who fought with Prince Daemon and Lord Corlys in the StepStones. The two of your families often dinned together and therefore you were close to Baela and Rhaena. Often seeking the gardens or library, and when the opportunity arose to the training yard, to get away from Septas. 

Your mother was friends with Lady Laena and Princess Rhaenyra. So sometimes you were to accompany your mother at Court when the Princess wrote to your mother to visit. During those times you exchanged letters to Baela and Rhaena, but more so to Baela--as you two had more interests in common. 

Baela loved a crossbow, you loved a sword. Together you read the histories of House Targaryen and the Conquering of Westeros. You did each other's hair, helped with dressing, and rode horses along the grounds. Baela would bring you sailing with her gransire. You helped her study when the Septas got on her for not paying attention during lessons. 

Growing up you had little interest in boys and marriage, opting to rather read books, paint the gardens, and learn to shoot. Baela was the same, and while you both had responsibilities and expectations, often you daydreamed together of taking a ship far away beyond the lines of the map. Where Baela could fly MoonDancer in free skies. Where you could captain your own ship. 

"Mother has begun telling me of her lady friends' sons. I fear she and my father are planning a match with the Tully boy set to become the Lord of the Riverlands once his grandsire departs." *gasp* "But he is barely of age!!" "From the looks of it, it is either him or a man older than my father. Gods, I'd rather go beyond the wall then marry either of them."

When you realized your feelings for Baela, it was years after the Driftmark incident when you both were ten and seven. Following Lord Corlys illness, Princess Rhaenys requested you to join her and Baela on Driftmark where she was ruling in Lord Corlys steed. She knew Baela felt lonely and missed you while you were back home in the Crownlands. So, with permission from your family--and since your marriage to Oscar Tully hadn't happened yet--you set sail to Driftmark. 

Not long after the relationship you had with Baela shifted. Both of you feeling the difference in the way you sought each other out each time you entered a room. Or how you waited until the other arrived to break your fast. Constantly exchanging glances and smiles when you knew no one was looking. When you both confessed, and started a secret relationship, the only people you told were Rhaena and the few servants you trusted. They of course loved you both considering you were lovely and gracious to your staff unlike most noble ladies, so your secret remained with them.

Princess Rhaenys, however, picked up on it rather quickly. But, out of love for her granddaughter and likeness of you, she turned the other way when questions arose from Lords and Ladies. Commenting how strange it was for the two of you to spend hours of the day by yourselves and made gestures usually associated with courtship. 

Leaving flowers from the gardens in each other's chambers. Baela taking you for a ride on MoonDancer. Spending nights without supervision. Hiding away during banquets and formal dinners. 

Rhaenys did remind the both of you of your expectations. Yes, she wished Baela happiness, but you were betrothed and Baela soon would be too. That conversation was tabled for another day, as neither of you were ready to face the reality of your situation. 

"My uncle was married to Rhaenyra for ten years and it is said he continued to see his lover. We can surely do the same. Our families would never put us in harm's way."  "Darling, my family plans to send me to the Riverlands. And I wouldn't put it past your stepmother to propose a marriage between you and her son. This....we cannot escape this."

But of course, you tried. For a while actually you managed to keep it under wraps. Then of course when Lucerys' claim was called into question, followed by King's Viserys' death and usurpation of the throne, people pretty much forgot about the rumors surrounding you two. Everyone more focused on threat at hand. 

And when years of blood, sweat, tears, fire, and a whole lot of death finally ended with the conclusion of the Dance of Dragons, your efforts in securing Rhaenyra's bloodline onto the Iron Throne were inked down by historians. Right next to the love of your life, Baela the Brave, who you continued to stay by until the end of your days. 

[franzkafkagf]

Just a little disclaimer I’m not asking this question to try to come across as hurtful or anything like that. But I was wondering how as an Aegon-stan his treatment of women can make you have a very nuanced opinion of him? :o

- Personally I’m TB but do have empathy for some TG-characters. I do like Aegon as an antagonist and I do feel for his very toxic and harmful upbringing but due to his violent behavior towards women.. I just can’t really connect that well with him 🫣

Hi! Thank you for your ask :) Super interesting question actually! I have written some things for him in the past, talking about what exactly fascinated me about his character so much ( exhibit one, two three, four and five )

I also urge you to listen to Tom talk about Aegon; this man gets him as a character so well and says it better than I ever could. Some interviews found here, here and here

I can understand not being able to connect with him because of his treatment of Dyana— it's an unforgiveable thing he has done to her and might have done to others. But in spite of that, he is still just a character. Everything he does is meant to inform us about his certain traits he has, even the ugliest of things.

What does it tell us about Aegon? He is entitled, doesn't take things seriously, he is indulgent and does not see Dyana (or other smallfolk for that matter) as a real person (succession reference wink wink)

I wouldn't call his behavior towards women in general toxic though— I actually think he is somewhat demure when faced with women like his mother, Rhaenyra and also Helaena. He seems to kick down most of the time, while trying to get recognition from the ones he sees as peers or above him.

If you look at the culture he was raised in, it's not really a surprise he turned out the way he did, seeing women beneath him as something he can just take if he likes to. Westeros is cartoonishly misogynistic; traditions like First Night or the prevelance of brothels filled with women working under harsh indentures show that.

Young men of noble origin seem to see visits to brothels (again, filled with women that do not want to be there) as a normal past time activity; it's so prevalent that it's surprising if a young nobleman does not participate. Now, I do not want to excuse his actions, but seeing the culture he grew up him and the influences around him? -> He probably thinks this is normal behaviour, disturbingly.

On a bit different note, I want to talk about his relationships. A thought I see often echoed in the fandom is the headcanon that Aegon is violent towards Helaena when that... was never stated anywhere? Now I'm probably biased because I'm a big Helaegon girl but I don't see him being violent with his sister.

People say he impregnated her at 13 when.. he was also just a 15 year old boy? He did not want to marry her! Both literally did not and could not consent to what happened to them, I think it's so sad that people try to demonize a child who just did what was demanded from him from all the adults in his life :(

(like yes tell me about how one of these KIDS forced himself on the other out of fully selfish desire and pure evil. you're so smart and do not lack media literacy whatsoever)

The dinner scene literally shows Helaena laugh at Aegon's antics until he goes a step too far w Baela, and what does Helaena do? She clowns him in front of everyone with her toast. And what does he do? He just takes it... not the behaviour of an evil abusive man but the delulus will swear otherwise.

People will also try to twist her crying at the coronation as some depressive moment for her where she realizes that he will have the ultimate power over her when that's LITERALLY just a (very boring) headcanon. It's hinted at in the text and literally written out in the script that she is scared, because she knows what crowning him means; the dance cannot be stopped. That's all, that's why she's crying. She feels like their end is near.

All in all I think no one can change your mind on how you feel about Aegon; what he did IS unforgivable, but I hope you see a bit of my pov here too. Seeing the nuance in deeply flawed characters and digging to find hidden depths in them is something I'm very passionate about! My Aegon girlie mutuals and me will be feasting come season 2 🙏

[lemonhemlock]

As someone who (unfortunately) watches tons of reaction videos, the impact of framing is UNDENIABLE. For example, the scene of Aemond claiming Vhagar: most people start off excited by the scene, with its epic track (and music is a very important tool) and cool shots of Aemond succeeding; and then they switch up with swiftness when the show tells them that actually what Aemond did was wrong, and he deserved what he got.

Quite a switch up within one episode.

(Side note, this shit is why I’ll never understand ppl who act like Aemond is somehow adored by the narrative. He isn’t. So much unnecessary shit was pulled out of thin air (the addition of newly motherless Baela and Rhaena to the fight) to make him, the victim, look extra villainous. + To me it’s clear that groundwork is being laid for Aemond never being more than Daemon’s shadow narrative.)

i think that, generally-speaking, "Driftmark" is a solid episode that doesn't present the altercation in an excessively biased manner. to my eyes, the 4-1 attack was not presented as aemond getting his just desserts or anything like that & i thought alicent's pleas were displayed in a reasonable manner as a grieving mother at her wits' end.

that being said, i would have added a few tweaks, such as an adult stressing the idea that you cannot steal a dragon, that what aemond did wasn't "theft" and further confirmation that rhaenyra DID ask for aemond to be tortured over an insult. bc in the aftermath of the episode it became clear that a lot of people did not understand that "sharply questioned" was a synonym for torture as they weren't familiar with book terminology or simply forgot when dany told the audience that a dragon is not a slave. bc framing does matter a lot and, like you said, people subconsciously change their view with the switch from triumphant flying music to rhaena's accusation of stealing, which remains unchallenged and thus becomes the baseline in the minds of the audience

as for including the girls in the fight, here they wrote themselves into a corner and that was the only solution. i don't think it was a specific objective to frame aemond as "more" evil but since they made joffrey so much younger (i.e. a literal baby), he couldn't participate in the fight and a 2-1 brawl wouldn't have seemed so dramatic. so adding baela and rhaena was really the only way to keep the outnumbering aspect.

although it needs be remarked that this fight is kind of goofy in its original version too. sometimes grrm really fails at writing children and this is one of them. what would a 3-year-old joffrey even be doing unsupervised at the dragon stables in the first place? 🤦 but, anyway, the point we're supposed to take from this scuffle is that it wasn't "fair" bc aemond was outnumbered

[backjustforberena]

Since you placed this in the tag for the character, I presumed you wouldn't mind a small rebuttal or explanation to your points as to why Rhaenys is a beloved character, at least to me, personally. I suppose I would like to start off by saying that I don't really like the term "girlboss" within the context of House of the Dragon, nor "feminist" given that those concepts do not exist in the universe, though Rhaenys is probably the closest to it as she both believes that a Queen can rule Westeros and also that women can rule lesser houses, such as Baela ruling Driftmark.

I know a lot of this is down to your personal reading on the character and the world, and I can see how you might come to those conclusions. I don't expect to persuade you, just to explain my perspective and factors that I believe, perhaps, you've considered less important than otheres.

Rhaenys is not hypocritical. When it comes to the agency of women and "toiling in the service of men", it is true that she is passive within a lot of the narrative. This is due to her position in court; she is roleless due to her being passed over and remains in a tricky political position shown by the continued reference to her claim. As such, she stays on the periphery of much of the show's conflicts, which are centralized on the nuclear Targaryen House. Also, for much of the events, she is home on Driftmark.

Her marriage to Corlys is as equal as it gets. He looks to her for advice, and they present themselves as a unified team on multiple occasions and Corlys is never shown to minimize her role in public. She may not speak, but that is because she exercises her power privately and does not wish to undermine her husband's power in political negotiations. And she doesn't tiptoe around Corlys's feelings or move to "keep him happy" in private. They argue. They fight. She tells him off.

You seem to be in two minds about Rhaenys's agency. If she is dedicated to keeping her husband happy and is incredibly passive, then how can she be blamed for Laena? I would argue that Rhaenys is very ambitious and absolutely is equally to blame for Laena. It's not a good decision but at least Rhaenys is shown to actively find it not okay but a necessary evil.

"Creepy older man" is a stretch for Viserys, in how Rhaenys would see her cousin. It's our modern lens, absolutely, and should be. We are meant to be creeped out by this. But for Rhaenys, it not only serves her own ambitions but is a good match for her daughter for all the reasons apart from age, which she attempts to mitigate as much as she can. Rhaenys and Corlys would also be able to steer the marriage and protect their daughter much more than Otto can. It's still a horrific act, but I believe there is a difference between the emotional manipulation/seduction that Otto orchestrates from when Aemma dies and the political allegiance that Corlys and Rhaeanys offer six months later.

If you are choosing the Laena incident as the sole evidence to claim Rhaenys's "toiling in service to men" conversation to Alicent as hypocritical, then I think you are mistaken. Not only was that event around 15-20 years ago (I can't remember the maths atm, forgive me), but in that time, Rhaenys has gone through a lot of events that have shaped her opinions. At that same time, she did not believe Rhaenyra would stay as heir if a male child was born. But Viserys kept that word and she now sees a world in which a woman can and should have the crown and the system as it has been can be challenged. There's also much closer evidence at hand that Rhaenys was not going to take Corlys's wishes into account if it had been more beneficial to forsake Lucerys as heir to Driftmark. It is only when Viserys walks in that Rhaenys readjusts her strategy.

Rhaenys has evolved throughout the series, and she has ruled Driftmark absolutely for years, whereas whilst Alicent has a lot of power, she still cannot envisage a course of action that would mean going against the men in her life.

As for the Dragon Pit sequence; I do not think it was executed well. I would have done things differently, but we have what we have and I can totally understand people's rejection of it and different readings. To your point that she "kills a bunch of small folk without a care simply to show off that she’s powerful and better and can’t be chained down." - I disagree strongly, I'm afraid. There's nothing to suggest that Rhaenys does not care about the smallfolk previously and nothing to suggest she takes any joy from the destruction, unlike Cersei and the Sept. If she had wanted to reign destruction and kill loads of people, she could have done a lot worse than what she did. For me, I read it as the doors in the floor being the only way of escape, and we already know that Rhaenys did fear for her life - hence her escape and her need to get her dragon.

And I do not believe that Rhaenys and Corlys would have led a coup. Are they ambitious? Yes. But they're also very different from Otto, as Laena is from Alicent. They have familial connections already to the Targs and have shown to respect for the decisions of Kings before with Rhaenys's own claim. They also believe that a woman can rule, which is one of the main reasons Otto acts as he does. Nor would they believe that Rhaenyra would have to kill their grandchildren to secure their claim, as Rhaenys and Viserys (two rival claimants) were able to live harmoniously and without the need to murder. I agree that Corlys, especially, would have tried to persuade Viserys to name his grandson as heir, but when that failed, there would be little he would or could do.

Rhaenys and Corlys would not want to go to war. Rhaenys would not want to split the Targaryen family up so drastically; to disregard her cousin's wishes, to usurp a woman in so similar a position that she had been in, when they, unlike Otto, can still offer their grandchildren safety and lands and riches. It simply would not be worth it. There's also the fact that Laena is not Alicent and would not act in the same way. There's no reason to suspect there would be discord to the degree that there is between the Hightowers and Targaryens.

Anyway, I'll stop rambling! I just hope that you found it interesting to read and it made you think about things from a different perspective for a moment. Have a lovely day!

I think the love that Rhaenys gets is kind of insane when you really look at her as a character. Because frankly she is insanely hypocritical and selfish.

Rhaenys is incredibly passive in her behaviors and essentially dedicates her life to make her husband happy. Which is totally fine and her choice…except for the fact that she insults Alicent for serving the men in her life and belittles her for it.

She willingly offers up her 12 year old child to a creepy older man to get her blood on the throne and to please her husband by getting his blood on the throne. Which is just as bad (arguably worse than) Otto offering up his 15 year old. So if you hate him, hate Rhaenys.

She kills a bunch of small folk without a care simply to show off that she’s powerful and better and can’t be chained down. And I’m sorry, if you hated Cersei for blowing up the sept (as her one and only option to survive) and the smallfolk in and around it…you can’t support Rhaenys caving the walls in on a bunch of people for no reason.

And really consider this. In the case of Otto, everyone hates him for plotting to get his daughter to marry Viserys and then get his grandchildren on the throne over Rhaenyra. But if Viserys had taken the ludicrous offer from Rhaenys to marry her 12 year old daughter…do you think she and her husband would’ve accepted Rhaenyra as heir? Obviously not. If Viserys married Laena and had sons with her, Corlys and Rhaenys would’ve been the #1 supporters of the “Rhaenyra isn’t the heir” brigade. They’d have used all their power to intimidate Viserys until he changed his mind, and if he didn’t…as soon as Viserys would die, they’d have their grandson on that iron chair faster than you can say “Rest in Peace”.

The only reason she supports Rhaenyra now is because of the marriage between the strong boys and her granddaughters. And the concept of her husbands “blood” being on the throne in name.

You can’t convince me in any way that Rhaenys is in any way a girlboss or feminist. What she is is a hypocritical woman who, if the circumstances were different, would place herself and her family above Rhaenyra in a heartbeat. Lord knows she tried.

[jacaeryse]

Moving Aemond to the cells beneath Dragonstone has been necessary. Confined to a cell he would pose no threat, effectively removing him from the board. Vhagar was out there somewhere, possibly searching for her lost rider, but it mattered not. She would never find Aemond in the bowels of Dragonstone. Jace had changed into his princely finery, glowing in the aftermath of victory. Supper waited for the prince upstairs while he checked in on his prisoner. This would be Aemond's last chance to make amends before Jace offered him up to Rhaenyra.

"Your congratulations are noted, and appreciated." He smiles at Aemond, lifting a hand to his heart. "Those are the first kind words you've ever said to me. I'm touched." Cregan's aid had definitely turned the tide of the battle, Jace couldn't deny that. Northerners spilled out of the woods like a great flood, drowning Aemond's forces in their might. "It truly was a sight to behold. Too bad you were face down in muck, and missed it."

All along Jace had wanted to prove himself to Rhaenyra, to show that he was capable of defending her claim and proving himself as her heir. Sparing Aemond was done out of compassion, one that would inspire song one day. King Jacaerys Targaryen, The Benevolent, they would call him. Though he was quickly regretting it now that Aemond was awake. "She's very aware. In all of her kindness she even selected the tiniest cell just for you." Jace smiles, "You'll be put before her. What she has planned I couldn't tell you, but I cannot imagine it will be pleasant."

Jace's vision went white with rage. "Don't you dare threaten him in my presence." Cregan had to have known the risk when he offered his support and that of his people. They had been made enemies of the crown, susceptible to punishment or worse if Rhaenyra failed to take the throne. Every word that left Aemond was another knife twisting in his gut. Cregan had vowed to fight until Queen Rhaenyra reclaimed her birthright. He had sworn his fealty within the godswood of Winterfell, marking their pact with blood and a kiss. Jace relaxes, reminding himself that in his current state Aemond posed no threat and was merely all talk. Cregan was waiting for him upstairs, along with Baela, and the rest of the court, far away from the kinslayer. His trembling hands move to rest on the pommel of his sword, where after a moment they relax. "You're lucky he didn't happen upon you. Cregan wouldn't have been so kind as to spare you."

"No. Queen Rhaenyra will see you judged before the court where she will make her verdict." Death would come for Aemond, most likely in the maw of Syrax. "You should rest. In time the guards will fetch you, drag you upstairs, and force you to your knees." Jace would enjoy watching that, proud that he had been the one to have brought Aemond to justice.

Aemond's world was a blur of pain and darkness, the battlefield a distant memory. The taste of blood still lingered in his mouth as he drifted in and out of consciousness, catching snippets of voices and the sharp sting of hands tending to his wounds. The last thing he remembered clearly was Jacaerys, his nephew's mocking voice, promising death, yet sparing him at the last moment. He hadn't expected mercy, not from Jace of all people.

When Aemond finally awoke, he was no longer on the battlefield. The rough stone walls and the unmistakable chill of Dragonstone surrounded him, the smell of salt and smoke heavy in the air. He was in a cell, iron bars separating him from the rest of the world, the dim light of torches casting flickering shadows on the damp walls.

His wounds had been tended to, bandages wrapped tightly around his torso where the dagger had struck. The pain was still there, a dull, persistent throb, but it was manageable. Aemond shifted slightly, testing the limits of his injured body, and then leaned back against the cold stone wall. He felt weary, but not broken. Not yet.

Across from him, just outside the cell, he saw Jacaerys, his face unreadable in the low light. Aemond broke the silence first, his voice hoarse but laced with its usual edge of sarcasm. " I suppose congratulations are in order, " he rasped, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. " The Starks arrived just in time to save your hide. I imagine that was quite the spectacle; Cregan Stark and his wolves, swooping in to lend their strength to the Velaryon cause. "

He chuckled darkly, though it turned into a pained cough. " But tell me, Jacaerys...does your mother even know you're keeping me here? Or are you playing at being merciful without her knowledge? I wonder how she'd feel about you sparing the Kinslayer. "

Aemond leaned forward slightly, his single eye gleaming with wicked amusement. " Or perhaps you're waiting for the right moment to use me as a bargaining chip. Or maybe, just maybe, you're struggling with your conscience. Sympathetic, even now. So very...Strong of you. "

The taunt was deliberate, meant to dig into Jacaerys's pride. Aemond's smirk widened as he let the insult linger in the air. He knew exactly what he was doing, playing their old game, pushing his nephew's buttons to see how far he could go before Jace snapped.

But then Aemond's tone shifted, growing colder, more calculating. " You must know this changes nothing. The Starks may have won you a battle, but the war is far from over. I still have Vhagar. And when I fly north, I'll burn their precious wolves to ashes. Cregan Stark, his family, all of them. Gone. A new Warden of the North will be installed, one loyal to Aegon. One who knows their place. "

Aemond's gaze locked with Jacaerys's, daring him to respond. Aemond knew how close the two of them were, how much Jace valued his alliance with the North. That bond was a weakness, and Aemond was all too happy to exploit it.

" Perhaps you should kill me now, Jacaerys, " Aemond continued, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. " Because if you don't...I will make sure the North pays for their treason. And when I'm done, I'll come for you next. Luke may smile down upon you...but I'll see to it that he's not smiling for long. "

Aemond leaned back against the wall again, his smirk never faltering. He was weak, wounded, but his spirit was as sharp as ever. No matter how dire his situation, he would not bow. Not to Jacaerys, not to anyone.