#young aemond targayen

[una-hopeless-romantic1118]

ACT I - CHAPTER 1 ⋆.˚ ☾.˚of wolf's blood and dragon's wrath — Aemond Targaryen⋆.˚ ☾.˚

a/n: thought I would release this here :p still going to be releasing in ao3

summary, playlist, and character aesthetics

(p.s. @saturnssrings ik u requested i post the story here. so sorry I haven't been active on here since I was already doubtful the story wouldn't attract ppl, but here it is if you are still interested)

pls let me know in the comments if you would like to be added to a taglist :)

WARNINGS: not proofread, non-canon aemond bc both show!aemond and book!aemond suck, cursing, mention of blood, pathetic male yearning, graphic depictions of violence, rlly bad Northern accent dialogue

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Aiana attempted to simmer down the already tense air between the Princes, her bestest of friends. Her father called it admirable, but advised strongly against it, for reasons he does not tell her.

But of course she knew the Velaryon boys were bastard-borns; she too noticed and questioned it herself, their physical traits so distinct from Targaryen likeness. And since no one dared speak about it to her, she asked about it no longer. What made her different to the gossiping maids however, was that she was still intent in maintaining her friendship with them. She did not see the scandal the whole court seemed to grimace on about. Their characters were respectful and kind. They were her Princes, and she respected them no differently than she respected the Targaryens. And most especially if their mother, the Princess Rhaenyra, was ever so caring to her, and their father, Ser Harwin Strong, a man her Father thought suited honor well.

Aiana thought Aemond the loveliest, sweetest of all. Of course, next to Helaena. He was always gentle-mannered in everything he did with her, in teaching small phrases and words of his familial language and in comforting her when Aegon would insult her Northern habits and her adoration for her direwolf pups. 

But as friends do, they always maintained a consistency of tender love with playfulness and mischief, as one or the other always initiated in playing chase. They shared secrets and gossip they managed to grasp from whispers, and giggles as they hid under tables and dared one another to wrap a hand around a victim’s ankle to startle them. 

But their friendship was structured firmly with their adoration for one another—an understanding of each other to an extent no one else had the privilege of seeing. 

Aiana was the second born child to Rickon Stark, but the Gods already gifted the family a first born son called Cregan Stark, so right when she entered the world, she had given the Northerners another reason to find relief in the existence of her brother. She would not be treated with the utmost respect like a highborn Lord like Cregan was, only adoration, that a little she-wolf so gentle and blissful was born to during the harshest of winters.

There is no mistake that her parents still expected good judgment from her and to take her position as a proper lady seriously, but her fate was still as clear as day: she wasn’t meant for much.

Aemond was half-brother to the Princess Rhaenyra, and the second son to Queen Alicent. This line of available heirs left Aemond in the dust, but he too had a lot to prove to fulfill his title as a Targaryen prince.

They were observers, the pair of them. They were forced in the back to watch their older siblings, the priorities to everyone. But Aiana did not seek the praises Cregan would receive. All Aiana wanted was to be taken seriously, not be portrayed as a flimsy little thing, Cregan's little sister and the mighty Lord Rickon's darling daughter.

Aemond wished for the same, but it was never easy. Soon enough, he expected the whole world to pay for it.

The night of the tragedy was the first time she learned a valuable lesson. Dragons belonged to the skies and the stars, and wolves kept their patted paws in the ground.

She hated that she woke to the smallest of sounds, but to the sound of the mighty Vhagar growling outside the castle walls, she had to get out from her sweet slumber to watch in fascination.

Though distances in the sky away from her small window, Aiana squinted with all her effort at the figure atop the dragon. A new rider already? She was eager to discover who the dragon had chosen at this hour of late, and this early on, considering her former rider had just been sent to rest at sea.

The dragon neared to land, and the rider was still too small to see compared to her size. But the distinct, faint blonde hair hit Aiana like a revelation. Despite her tired state, the overwhelment from anticipation and eagerness to meet her good friend had aroused her completely awake as if it was the new day already. She quickly slipped into her shoes.

She had not a care in the realm whether her running in the empty halls were disrupting others from their own slumber; in fact, if they did wake, she would be glad in having more people celebrate the young Prince. 

Aiana was looking through every possible window to find where the Prince had landed, and upon the main hall of the Velaryon castle, she was able to arrive exactly as the new dragon rider did, at the area behind where the wake was held for the late Princess Laena.

She had sped past her fur coat, only dressed in her favorite blue sleep dress in the late hour. And now she was glad to at least have her shoes on so at least her feet were not cold and dirty.

The young Stark wolf rushed out to the back of the castle and sped down the stairs.

“Aemond!” She wheezed out as she watched the Prince jump out of the dragon’s saddle and slide down her wing, though maintaining a cautious distance and volume so as not to make the warrior dragon feel threatened.

She tried again louder but breathlessly, this time finally getting his attention.

He squinted in the dark. Aiana took another step forward the nearest torch, and Aemond broke out into a wide, relieved grin. “Aiana?” His breath was heavy, evident in the white air that expelled from his mouth. His voice alone let Aiana know he was ecstatic. “You saw?”

She nodded frantically. “It woke me from my slumber, but I did not mind. And surely not when it was you had claimed her. Well done, Aemond!” She gushed.

“Why must you dwell in the dark? Wouldn’t you like to come closer?”

“I would, yes.” She responded as she marveled at the dragon. “That is the very reason I came down.”

“Well, then, come closer,” he ushered her with his hand, an air of confidence Aiana chuckled at. 

“I would rather not. I don’t want to make her feel threatened.”

“That is nonsense, Aiana,” he let out a laugh. “I've bonded with her. She knows my heart. I want you to meet her.”

Aiana giggled to herself at how quickly Aemond is to boast his new dragon. She thought it fair, as he had waited for years, growing desperate at times enough to visit the Dragonpit unaccompanied. That is what she and the Queen Mother shared; the concern for Aemond and his tireless determination to pursue a dragon that he would place himself in such dangerous situations.

She approached under the light of the night sky, watching the massive dragon in front of her. 

Aemond laughs at her timidity. He grabs for her arm and pulls her into the light of Vhagar’s view closer.

“Aemond!” She scolded him under her breath. Her hand was naturally trembling when he slowly led her hand against Vhagar’s head, which lowered for Aiana. She looked at him in disbelief.

The gesture eased her anxiety, and despite the rough, uncomfortable feel of her scales, and the focus of her amber eyes on her, Aiana found it flattering that a creature so fearsome could find it to be sweet tempered with her. 

“Your hands are cold, Aiana.” Aemond’s hand squeezed hers. If she hadn’t peeled her eyes away from the dragon to look at him, she would have never thought the Prince’s concern was laced with amusement. “Where is your coat?”

“Do not insult me! I’m cold, but I’ll survive." Then, she giggled. "Wolves are made to adapt to whatever cruel measures one sets for us." She mocked in her Father's voice.

Aemond was quick to slip out from his coat despite. Aiana watched with a complexed but amused expression. “But you will be cold.”

“I will not,” he covers her with his cloak and ties the strings for her, his cold fingers confident and free of shaking, but they occasionally brush against her chin and neck. “I am of fire, and with a dragon I can surely prove it now.” Indeed, the smell of the dragon from his cloak —which was a strong mix of a musky and ashy smell— was quick to fill her nostrils. 

“Well, you certainly smell like one too.” She smirked, to which Aemond mimicked, taunting her high-pitched voice. 

She wrapped the thick clothing further around her, grinning at her friend. “She is marvelous, Aemond. Well done.” 

Aemond only tilted his chin up. “She will surely silence my nephews. Humble them, even.”

Aiana tried to ignore the unusual chills that crept up on her skin. She debates whether to argue back, but it would not be an argument of logic, only bias. While she cared for the Velaryon brothers, Aiana was beginning to surpass their immature, unacceptable behavior because of her pity for their legitimacy and the shame the people enforce on them that they must bear for the rest of their lives. She would defend Aemond against them when the time called for it, but she limited and chose her words in a careful manner that her defenses were small and useless.

But like her Father always tells her, “find a voice of your own,” and despite the hope that his encouragement would encourage her heart, he couldn't help but add, “but there are sure consequences to the use of it.”

Combing her hair with his bear-like hands, he would explain, “you’re a wolf of the North, little jewel. I’m raisin’ you to have judgments of your own, but I can’t promise the rest of the realm will smile down at you. They’ll frown upon you, and then at me, gossiping behind our backs to criticize my ways. You’re a little girl, who will surely grow into a woman whose single hair on her arm wouldn't raise in fear at the harshest criticism or curse. Aye, the woman you will be, so stiff against insults from lousy men—you’ll remain standing, upright, like a wolf against the strong winter winds.  

“I want you to know you have a valuable place in this world, sweetling. If you say or believe, I trust that you’ll know to think on it first with that brain of yours. And to tell the truth as it is. Don’t go and sugarcoat to coax people. A wolf’s eyes and ears are keen in observin’ their surroundings, and we can gather a lot of the world even in our silence. Especially in our silence. It’s what we decide to do with ‘em that matters, if we do our part in tellin’ the truth. Honesty inspires honor, and honor, to justice.”

How heavy the words were to a small heart like hers. Guilt plagued her quickly.

Aiana knew Aemond’s pain all too well. She too longed to prove herself worthy. To Aemond, it required a dragon for the ridiculing to stop. To Aiana, it required a male anatomy to be a son for her mother to love her. She was a failure from the beginning, no matter how hard she mirrored her brothers’ mannerisms or jests, she could be nothing like them.  

Her circumstance, though impossible to treat, allowed her to sympathize with another with a similar experience.

In this moment, Aemond needed her honesty. Her defense. Her Stark voice.

She reached for him and clung on to him in an embrace.

“How relieved I am that this pressure for a dragon on your shoulders has sloughed off,” she said against his shoulder. “It has been a lot on you, and while I care deeply for the Velaryon brothers, I tried my hardest to convince mine mind that their mistreatment of you was just playful. But I know what playful is, and it was never funny to me seeing you after another series of their jesting. I care about you as your friend and forever comrade in this cruel world. I’m sorry if it seemed like I didn’t care for your feelings.”

Aemond has been still since Aiana had practically crashed herself onto him. Aiana would hate to let go, as she never feels satisfied if the hug was not returned, but waiting for it to be returned in this way is not only awkward— it might also make the Prince feel restrained from his own will.

She lets go to look at Vhagar again, though his eyes were heavy on her.

She began to feel the pressure of them and she began twirling the strings of his cloak, muttering comments about her scales, her growling, anything, until-

“You think you must apologize?” He muttered incredulously. 

Aiana frowned. She forced herself to face him and was immediately alarmed. “Why do you look nauseated? Are you alright?”

The young Prince was standing awkwardly— uncomfortably—beside her. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at her, his breaths shallow and audible. He was in utter disbelief.

She thought she was right, that he was hurting through the newfound anger. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, Aemond. I thought it best to be hones-”

“ No, Aiana.” He responded firmly. “It boggles mine own mind how you, out of all of them, are the one to even think about apologizing.” His tone portrays correctly his disbelief. “Trust me, you have done no wrong. You are in no place to apologize. Everyone pities those bastards.”

Aiana flinched at his anger. She hoped to revert it. “That is an offensive word, Aemond.”

He only smirks. “Their whole beings are an offense to our line.”

“Aemes-”

His attention was back on Vhagar, and there is no doubt somewhere in his mind he is brewing for his revenge. Aiana twirled the strings of the cloak as she observed him, and for the first time, Aiana feared Aemond.  

The Aemond of yesterday withered away from insults, where behind closed doors he only then expresses disappointment in himself. The Aemond of now clenches his jaw, plotting, his fingers flexing, and his eyes reflecting the fire from the standing torches that is no doubt mirroring his brutal intentions. This was the Aemond she pitied, the one she would gladly comfort. Now she faces a dark soul fuming with such unfamiliar anger, Aiana could only look down from it.

She had to be honest with him. 

Aiana shifted her weight on one leg uncomfortably, and Aemond snaps free from his thoughts. “Would you like to?” He motioned to Vhagar. “I know you’d like to.”

She did. Aiana shook her head, a look of dread on her face at the thought of riding with him in this drunken state. “I’m not dressed for it.” She lies so easily for a Stark. “And in this late hour?”

Aemond laughed. “Oh, now you’re scared? You made me swear upon knifepoint you’d be the first person I take for a ride on my dragon. Don't you remember?” 

She recalls, but she cannot bear to go about the night pretending to be daft to the Prince’s new guise. Even if Aemond promised he feels no hatred for her, Aiana still felt like she might offend him for walking one foot alongside him, while the other accompanied the Velaryon boys. She does not want to side with either if it would betray the other.

But it didn’t have to be a feud, if each side would just get along. They were family. It should not have to be a challenge.

“I do not mind, Aiana.” Aemond reminded. “Vhagar wouldn’t either. I’ll keep you safe, I promise. We won’t go as high.”

“It’s late, my Prince.” She reasoned, her voice weak. “Tomorrow, when the sky is brighter, mayhaps?”

Tomorrow, mayhaps, when he is much sober from this wrath and arrogance.

“Then it’s settled.” He offered her his hand. “Let me walk you to your chambers.” 

Aiana handed him her hand. Expecting Aemond to take the lead, he instead pulls her in a hug that alarmed the young girl.

“You are my one and only true friend.” She felt him sigh into her shoulder.

She was just a few inches taller, so Aiana rested her cheek on top of the Prince's head. Her doubts still linger, but she feels for Aemond. “It is an honor,” she sniffled, finding relief that she can recognize her friend again.

Then she tugged the end of his blonde hair. “Pretty girl.”

He scowls at her while massaging his scalp. Not a minute spared he returned the action by twirling first her black hair in his fingers, and then tugging harshly down at it. “You’ve got a tangle in your hair, wolf.” He spat back.

“Compared to yours,” she swatted his finger away, “my hair is better kept. Yours is always frizzed and wild.”

“As if yours are never sticking out of place like a witch’s.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Take a bath.”

“You first.”

They left Vhagar to rest again, and she was quick to fall back to sleep with a low growl of pleasure.

Aiana, too, relaxed. Her old companion is back as she lures him away from the source of his arrogance.

“How was it then?” She sniffled from the cold. “The first flight. Must be as thrilling as it looks.”

“It is even better,” Aemond sighs blissfully. 

“Must have been terrifying, too. Was it not?” 

Aemond scoffs. “Hardly.”

Aiana only rolls her eyes, unconvinced. “There is no point in lying. Even I remember the Princess Helaena struggling to maintain a perfect balance sitting atop such a creature. Even your drunk of a brother.”

“Well, that is simply that: Aegon is a drunk. He staggers about as he loses his senses to the wine.” He pauses, hesitating. “But if I admit to it, will you tel-”

“I swear, Aemond. I will not tell.” She faced him. “Your secrets are safe, for however long you’d like. I won’t mutter any of them out even if Aegon tries to weasel his way to one. But you needn’t lie about them, either. I can read you well.”

Aemond’s whole system flooded with relief. “Then, it was a struggle to get on. But I held on tight.” It was a challenge to confess, as if being humble was a sin, and after he is searching in her face for any twitch from the restraint to laugh.

He found none, but a smile of absolute sympathy. 

“Must have been,” she looked back at Vhagar. “She’s massive. Surely, however, soon you’ll be able to ride her like it is second nature.”

She spoke with such gracefulness and kindness, it was enough to make Aemond’s heart full to burst. He is so grateful for her. So forever in her debt. His forever comrade in this cruel world.

Aemond in his late nights awake often dreamt of becoming a fearsome dragonrider, sword strapped into his waist belt, riding into battle against those who have taken advantage of Aiana and her kindness. Pathetic as his fantasies may be, the fantasies along with Aiana’s faith in him have given Aemond enough encouragement to claim his right to a dragon. Now, he rides the largest in the world.

Aiana introduced him to a friendship and kindness that he could not find in his own family. How does she expect him to accept that she is to move back to the other end of Westeros? Aemond felt like a helpless child again. 

They see the underground passageway from their distance, and all the while they walked and talked of bonding with dragons, the subject of her direwolves came up.

“They’re growing faster than I expected. Of course, my Father warned me. Cregan too, but to reflect on their tiny yapping and their fragile bodies, and remember now they’re big enough to stand on their hind feet and feed off my plate at the dinner table—I don’t think I can bear it. But, at the same time, it’s a joy to tend to them.”

“Do you miss them?” Aemond asked, and Aiana hugged herself.

“With every fiber of my being,” she thought sadly to herself. “My time away only makes me worry for them. Silly as it may sound, they are both my friends and children. It's rather lonely at home being the only girl.”

It would sure make someone scowl in snicker at the thought. 2 pups who were by all means always covered in mud, and whenever they would pounce on her, Aiana would get scolded for letting them dirty her finest dresses. Their howls could never be silenced, because they are happy and filled with pride and life. They were hounds who always woke everyone in the hall with their pawing of Aiana’s door in the early mornings, eager to be taken for their walks.

It was Ivory and Luna—it was the 2 of them, as her sworn and loyal protectors forever. Her girls.

Aemond sees the glimmer in Aiana’s eyes, lost in her thoughts. It was moments like these between them that Aemond liked to observe. He often observed things he would rather not, but of his own accord he would gladly study a beauty such as Aiana. He would even gladly argue with a thousand men who would say her shining eyes simply reflected the moon’s kind and gentle light. He knew it was more than that. It reflected her own benevolent heart that lives for those around her, deserving or not.

Aemond thought it deserving she was nicknamed the Northern Star. Everyone likes looking at pretty things, and they’re twice as desirable if they are completely out of reach. 

Aiana was a star alright, unattainable and untouchable even if she was down on this Earth walking amongst commoners and sinners and cowards. Southerners thought Northerners as filthy brutes who were below them. But here she was, Aiana, a beauty Southerners can’t help but eye for. Aemond is no different, and as much as it disappoints him to admit it, his nephews share the same observation.

But Aiana was much more than a beauty. She was indeed a spectacle in the sky that gives purpose to those who wish upon it, a sense of direction to the lost and hope to the desperate. 

Only now does Aemond allow himself to be the lost, desperate boy, if it meant being lost and desperate for Aiana. 

“What’s wrong?”

Aemond’s nose twitched, alert. “Nothing.”

“You stare quite a lot at motionless things.” Aiana looked off to her side, at the beach. “I suppose the beach is quite lovely at night. It’s calm. I’ve never been to many beaches, you know, as you can assume there are none in Winterfell. Just the same, boring lakes that freeze and melt away as the seasons pass.”

Aemond swallowed hard. “Do you plan on returning to Winterfell, then?” His voice came out hoarse. He had overheard Ser Criston and his mother discuss Lord Rickon’s plan to return soon and hoped it to be false. 

It was a question that has been plaguing his mind and soul lately. Even though he wished Winterfell was a place Aiana hated and despised as much as he did King’s Landing, her solemn “yes,” plunged into his heart brutally.

Aiana was quick enough to pick up his sagging shoulders. “Winterfell is my home, Aemond,” she shook him. “Of course I must return.”

“But what of your studies with Septa Marinah?” was his first attempt.

“I have my own Septa at home, Septa Elayne.”

“But Septa Marinah is one of the best. She’s young and patient and kind-”

“Aemond-”

“And what of Lord Stark and Cregan? They must uphold their duties here.” 

“My father is just an old friend of the King. He has no duties expected of him here except to accompany your father in his hunts and wine tasting. We are temporary invited guests from the North, and so we must return home, sooner than later. I know our fathers and your uncle have bonded over hunting,” she gave him a tight lipped smile, “but this isn’t my home, Aemond. I hate the sun’s intensity here. I wish to go home.”

But Winterfell is a sad, gray place, he wanted to reason. What about the flowers you enjoy so much you’ve made it a habit to collect them and make everyone flower crowns? What sign of life can you find in the desolate North?

He kicked the sand, frowning. “It snows here, too...”

“We’ll still see one another as we always have all throughout our lives,” she added as they entered the cave. “Every name day and every wedding, we shall come back. It’ll be an offense to the King, your father, if we don’t.”

Aemond let out a small grunt as he stared at his own two feet, too pained to look at her. He already foresees his future days. He might as well resort to living in the skies, among the clouds, if he can’t walk the land without the Northern Star by his side.

“Can’t you just ask for your direwolves to be sent here?”

Aiana chuckled. “Aemond–”

“It’s him!” A voice squeaked from out of the quiet. “And the Lady Stark’s with him!”

Aiana noticed a look of betrayal in Baela and she returned a puzzled one. Soon followed Jacaerys, Lucerys, and her little sister, Rhaena. 

Feeling the sudden, overwhelming heat of the 5 young dragons around her, practically fuming fire from their nostrils, Aiana slipped out from Aemond’s cloak. “Have we done something wrong?”

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[helaelaemond]

50 Helaemond Kisses

day 11 - in joy

Aemond takes his first ride on Vhagar since claiming her. Helaena follows them on Dreamfyre. Young love fluff.

"Please let me go, it doesn't even hurt anymore!"

Alicent looked at the maester with a furrowed brow. "Surely it's too soon, grand maester."

Orwyle smiled at the queen. "The prince has healed well enough. I think it would benefit him to go his dragon. They say that the bond between rider and dragon strengthens-"

"Aegon will go with you," she interrupted, not wanting to hear it.

Aemond opened his mouth to protest, but Helaena stepped in.

"Dreamfyre is bigger. Aegon won't be able to keep up with Vhagar, but Dreamfyre can." The princess smiled widely at her younger brother. "I'll keep him safe."

Alicent considered her children for a moment, and sighed. "Ser Criston will escort you to the dragonpit, and you're not to go far, do you understand?"

Cole stepped forward and bowed his head. "Your Grace, Vhagar makes her lair south of the city, in the Kingswood. I will take the prince to her myself."

Helaena shook her head. "Aemond will fly on Dreamfyre with me. It will take much less time for us to fly to her than to ride on horseback."

Aemond's scarred face lit up at the mention of flying with his sister, and Alicent frowned again. "Helaena, I don't know if that's wise."

He looked at his mother with his own good eye, and squeezed her hand. "Please?"

After a long pause, the queen relented. It seemed that she couldn't refuse him. Not after all he went through.

An hour later and they had already found Vhagar. Aemond was reluctant to slide out of the saddle made for two and away from his sister, but excitement coursed through him like a fire. In a great clearing of her own making, Vhagar rested. The sunlight pouring through the trees made her look a deep emerald, her monstrous body rising and falling with deep breaths. Behind him, Dreamfyre called out quietly.

"Vhagar!" He was more confident than the first time. The bond had already been made, and the first flight flown. It would not be as difficult this time. The dragon groaned, but did not stir. He called her name again, and Helaena laughed when Vhagar turned her head away.

"Do you think you're interrupting her dreams?"

Aemond grinned at her over his shoulder. "What do dragons dream about if not flying?"

Helaena laughed again, and Dreamfyre let out a noise of contentment under her.

"Sīmonagon, Vhagar!" Rise!

Her mighty jaws opened and she raised her head and turned to look at her little rider. Aemond froze as she turned her open mouth towards her, but no fire rose in her throat. He realised with a leaping heart that she was simply yawning. It made his chest swell with affection. With surety that had served him well last time, Aemond grabbed the ropes and ladders that were slung over her huge body, and he began the climb up her side and with aching arms and legs, he finally settled into the saddle. It belonged to a dead woman. The saddle for him hadn't yet been finished. But this time, he was more careful.

Vhagar rumbled beneath him, sensing his presence on her back. He hastily wrapped ropes around his waist to secure him into the saddle that was too large for him, and then he leaned forward to shout his command.

"Soves, Vhagar!" Fly!

With an almighty effort, the dragon dug her talons into the earth and heaved herself up. The young trees around the clearing were no match for her when she began to lumber forward and they crashed down as she picked up speed. Aemond covered his face from the splinters and branches that were sent spiralling into the air, and then all of a sudden she spread her wings, and the treeline was cleared. He opened his one good eye and a scream of delight escaped him. They were in the sky and there was nothing between them and the sun.

Not far behind, Dreamfyre spread her wings and leapt up to follow, singing a sweet song to her new companion. There was something of Helaena in the dragon's calls. He didn't feel alone. He felt free with his dragon, with his sister. "Jikagon adere, ñuha raqiros!" Fly faster, my friend!

Vhagar obeyed, and the leisurely pace she had set suddenly became a race. The wind whipped his face and he could barely see, and his shouts of joy were lost in the mighty beating of her wings. He looked over his shoulder and there was Helaena, bent over her saddle and cheering on Dreamfyre. The smaller dragon didn't stand a chance at catching up despite her own immense size, and Aemond laughed again.

They quickly came up to King's Landing. The Red Keep stood proudly at the south point, and Aemond flew low to rush over it. He hoped his father was watching. He hoped his father was frightened, ashamed. Let the old man suffer. He hoped his mother was proud.

Dreamfyre was more nimble, and Helaena guided her to bank sharply and fly around the Keep twice. Aemond watched over his shoulder, and he grinned. She would make a fine queen one day.

The city sprawled under him. As he flew Vhagar higher, her shadow grew greater, and her shadow swallowed streets at a time. For the first time in a long time, he felt powerful. Beneath him was a fearsome weapon, a magnificent beast. And she was his. All his.

"Iksā sȳz, Vhagar! Issi ao biare?" We are doing well, Vhagar! Are you happy?

Whether the dragon truly understood the question, Aemond didn't know, but she let out a rumbling roar in reply, and he took it as a yes. He urged her on, and together they kept the coast on their right. It took less than an hour to reach Duskendale. Its squat drum towers emerged from the dirt and sat proudly at the mouth of the harbour, and Aemond looked down in delight at the earth below him. A little beyond the town walls, he finally set Vhagar down. Dreamfyre was not far behind, and he watched her join them on the low cliffs that overlooked the sea.

It was difficult not to shake with the anticipation and joy that rushed through him. How strange it was, to feel so happy. Not just happy to ride his dragon, but to share the moment with his sister. He slid down Vhagar's side with the help of the ropes, and the beast watched him with a soft and low call, and he thanked her in the Valyrian that felt like home.

"Did you see that?" he called out excitedly as he ran to Dreamfyre's side. The blue dragon watched him approach without warning him back like she once did. He reached up to help his sister down, and she lept into his arms. How happily he caught her.

"You flew her!" she answered in delight. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she laughed.

"I flew her!" He hugged her tight in reply. He was a bit taller than her now. His arms were strong around her, and he picked her up and span her, joy overflowing from him. "You said I'd have a dragon!"

She squealed and held onto him tightly. He didn't want to let her go. "And now you ride Vhagar!"

"Together, we ride the biggest, the oldest dragons! Us, Lae! You and me!"

"Us!"

He grinned, and set her feet back on the ground. "There's no one I'd rather share this with."

Helaena bit her lip, laughing. It seemed that joy was not his alone at this moment. Whatever he felt, so too did she. "It's how it will always be, Aemond."

He nodded, and cupped her cheeks. "Can I tell you something?" He blushed.

"Tell me!"

He was smiling so much that his face ached. "I've never been this happy. I didn't know it was possible. Is it... is it possible for dragons to love us?"

Helaena nodded and strands came loose from her two long plaits. "Yes, of course! Vhagar loves you, Aemond! She chose you, like you chose her! And she loves you!"

"She does?"

Her nose crinkled as she smiled even wider. "Of course she does!"

Aemond beamed, and he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. "You're magic, Lae!" He peppered her whole face with kisses, and she squirmed and laughed in delight. He wrapped his arms around her again and held her while she pretended to get away, but all the while her hands held his arms. Perhaps it was him who kissed her lips on purpose, or perhaps it was her who turned her face at the right time.

Whoever it was, it didn't matter. When their lips pressed together, the rest of them stilled. His hands on her back grew slack, and her grip on his arms loosened. It was a soft kiss, but joyous. It broke when they both couldn't stop smiling.

When they broke apart, Aemond's eye was closed. "Lae, I-"

"You're magic, too, Aemond."

He could hear the happiness in her voice. He looked at her. She was still so close to him, and he could see every freckle, every eyelash. In her eyes, there were flecks of purple, like their ancestors. "I won Vhagar. Now I want to win you."

"I've always been yours. You know that."

He bit his lip and looked down. The smile on his face would not dim. "I want us to be married one day. Aegon doesn't deserve you, but I do."

Not even the mention of their brother could dim their shared delight, and Helaena squeezed his arms.

Bravely, he looked her in the eye again and continued. "If we can marry, I will want for nothing else, ever. I will have Vhagar, and I will have you. Will you have me?"

Helaena nodded without hesitation. "Always."

"I mean it. Do you want to marry me one day?"

"I do. I want us to be together always. I don't want to live a single day without you."

He kissed her forehead, and they hugged tightly again. On the ride home, Aemond thought of what he would say to his mother and father. Surely they would have to listen now that he had a dragon - the dragon - and had proven himself to be worthy of his name. They would have to let him marry Helaena one day. They would have to. He grinned in joy the whole flight home.

[nena-la-fresa]

The Dragon and The Wolf |Part 1|

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.

Part 2

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f! Stark Reader

Warning: Arranged Marriage | Steamy Themes | Angst |

Word Count: 1807

A/N: Hasn't been proof read so bear with me I'll fix it later. Aemond is also aged up to the actors age cuz that’s the age he looks.

You could overhear the whispers, the pity in their voices. The young wolf being sent off to marry a dragon. 

All due to the stupidity of your house. How infuriating that they accepted an audience with Rhaenyra's son. It was most definitely seen as an act of treason to the Crown. No matter how much you pleaded with your father not to accept the meeting. You had the sight, you had seen what would happen if they had sided with her. You never disliked Rhaenyra, she was absolutely beautiful, you had always admired her since you were a child. But knowing that the safety of your family was now jeopardized you could not stay silent. But your family was permitted to stay on good terms with the Crown under the condition that you marry Prince Aemond. 

The whispers of how you were kissed by visions from the gods had reached Otto. He was the reason your family was given a second chance. What better way to win wars and make sure his blood stayed on the throne than to marry his grandson to a Greenseer. The wedding would take place in a month's time. Plans had been formed to begin as soon as you had left for Kings Landing. 

The road was long and no amount of sleep could calm your nerves. 

“Mother please not now.” 

Aemond pushes the door to his chambers, unable to close it as Alicent was close behind. 

“I understand you are upset. But you know it is your duty. Your brother is sick, he’s practically on his deathbed. So your grandfather thought it was best to find you a wife in preparation.” 

“The Stark girl who comes from a traitor family? How is that any good?” His voice hinted with malice. 

“Because she is a great asset to our family. You know how your father always spoke of Targayens and their prophecies. How they escaped Old Valyria. This could be good for us, Aemond. We wouldn’t have to lose anyone else.” She moved forward and touched his arm as he stared into the fire. “Aemond please.”

“It’s not as if I have a choice mother.” He sighed and placed his hand on hers. No matter how frustrating a situation he could never be upset with her. “When will the wedding take place?”

“Two days after she arrives.”

Much to your dismay you had arrived at King's Landing. Your wedding was in two days time, nothing could prepare you for it. You hadn’t even seen your betrothed since the moment you got there. You had met the Queen and she had asked for your forgiveness at her sons, ‘Shyness’. You expected as much. You heard rumors, the whispers of how cold Aemond was. In fact you preferred that he didn’t see you. But contrary to what people believe you were not always within the favor of the gods. 

“I know what people say of my son. And I am sorry you have to hear that. But I can assure you he is at the very least a gentleman. If my son ever does you harm please do let me know and I will do my best to correct his behavior. “ 

“Thank you. I very much- '' You were cut off by the sounds of the doors opening loudly combined with heavy footsteps. 

“Mother, Aegon has been begging for you. Please shut hi-'' He paused as he saw you sitting there. Before you turned to him could only describe you as cold looking and distant, with a hint of poise. He thought your look was very fitting for a Northerner. And had he known his mother requested an audience with you he wouldn’t have come barging in. 

“Good you're here.” Alicent got up from her seat and headed towards him. “I’ll deal with your brother. But the two of you need to converse.” 

Alicent closes the door behind her, “Make sure he doesn’t leave just yet.” She tells the guard on post. 

You turned away from him and focused your attention on the fire as you began to fidget with your hands. Aemond takes notice of it, and he sees the same movement his mother does when she gets nervous. Then he hears you wince, and the sight of blood can be seen on your thumb. 

“Stop that.” He took three steps before he was in front of you and grabbed your hands. You had looked up at him in surprise, looking at him now you couldn’t believe the rumors you heard of him looking hideous. Your eyes softened a bit at his touch and by the look of concern he gave you. He had an ethereal beauty to him, even with the eyepatch and scar. 

As he looked down at you he took notice of your eyes, doe like. And that coldness he saw was gone for the moment. He then remembered the blood on your hand, not having anything to wipe away the blood he brought your hand up to his lips and sucked the blood. 

You should be weirded out. But the sensation of his tongue and lips against your finger sent a shiver down your spine that made its way to your nether regions. 

“Aemond.” You whispered his name. Yet it seemed as if he didn’t hear you. You cleared your throat and spoke clearly, “I think the blood has stopped now.” 

He let go of your hand “Forgive me.” In a panic he turns and heads straight for the door. As he opens the door the guards stop him. 

“Forgive me Prince Aemond but your mother said not to let you leave just yet.” Aemond gave the guard a look. 

“You must be joking.” 

“Sorry my Prince.” The guard shut the door leaving Aemond trapped. 

“Unbelievable.” Aemond made his way over to sit by the fireplace. You both sat in silence for what felt like hours. You watched him as the fire casted a shadow on one side of his face and illuminated the other. 

“Are you always so quick to run away?” You playfully joked. 

 He turned his head quickly to you and was quick to respond, “Maybe if you had not picked at your skin I would not have run away.” 

You were taken aback by his response, almost getting whiplash by his change in tone. Just a minute ago he was gentle with you. “Me? Then maybe you should not have kissed my finger.” 

“You dare argue with me?” He scoffed. 

“Yes and what of it.” You stood up and made your way over to him. “Are you going to have me killed?” 

He laughed and stood up, he towered over you. “No.” He smirked and leaned down at eye level, “I could just do it myself.”  

“And risk another war?” 

“Oh please, your father begged my grandsire for forgiveness. You really think they’d go to war for a daughter?” 

“You must know very well considering they call you kinslayer.” 

“Hold your tongue.” He hissed and grabbed your face firmly. 

“You must know what love for one’s child could make anyone do. What your sister did for her son, and what your mother did for hers.” 

“Do you always speak when you’re told not to?” His voice no longer hinted with any concern he had for you earlier. You felt his breathing become heavy, and his grip tightened. 

“Do I upset you?” You smirked slightly, “Were you expecting someone quiet? Someone who won’t put up a fight?” 

“Like how you put up a fight when I cleaned your blood?” His face moves closer to your ear as he whispers. “You don’t think I could feel you shaking? Or hear your breathing hitch?” 

“What are you doing?” You try to pull away as you feel his hot breath on your neck. 

“Not much of a fight you’re putting up is it.” He kissed your neck, and sucked for just a second. Just enough to make you let out a small whimper. 

“Aemond stop.” You pleaded as he kept teasing you. You felt the heat rising in your body and I’m sure that he felt it too.  

His lips were moving down your neck to your collarbone. He sucked a bit harder, enough to leave a mark, you winced and pushed him away. Without even thinking you slapped him. 

His face turned only slightly, it was almost as if it hadn’t even hurt him. You kept looking at him and noticed the light tint of red on his cheek. Not only that but the corner of his lip began to bleed, the sight of it had distracted you from the stinging pain coming from your palm. 

You hurt him, but he kept pushing. But maybe it was your fault for teasing him. But he practically defiled you before you were even married. He went too far. Yes you were to be married but, what of this mark. What will others think? Will they think you were a whore? Will they question your virtue and think another man has touched you? Will this get your family and you killed? You hadn’t seen this, in fact you hadn’t seen anything regarding Aemond in your dreams or visions. Your thoughts ran wild and you couldn’t stand to be here anymore. It was all overwhelming. What were you doing here? How could your father be so stupid. How could he do this to you? You weren’t some common whore. 

“Forgive me, my Lady. I went to fa-” Before he could even finish what he wanted you were gone. His head turned to hear the doors fling open and your scurrying footsteps. He began to run after you but ran into his mother in the corridor. Alicent had looked back at you and then at her son. She could see his tinted check and the blood. 

“Aemond what did you do?” She wiped the blood off his lip. 

The next two days were spent with you avoiding Aemond at all cost. You had practically locked yourself in your chambers. Thankfully Alicent had permitted it, but that didn’t help much as tomorrow was the day. The day you would be binded to him forever. The whole day was nothing but making sure that your dress still fit and that you were prepped for consummating the marriage. It has plagued your mind. Not even sleep could help with this. 

The sounds of the bells had brought you out of your trance. You don’t even remember how you got up here. But here you were next to Aemond hand in hand about to be trapped. 

As both your hands were tied together the man spoke, “Let it be known that Y/n of House Stark and Aemond of House Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

[starrynightmuse]

Sign of the Times Masterlist 🏛⏳️

Aemond Targayen x reader, Library of Alexandria AU

(Title inspired by the Harry Styles song)

Blurb: It's summer in Alexandria, Egypt, and the heat has reached sweltering heights. Children dash toward the banks of the Nile, eager to find relief in the cool waters while ladies fan themselves under the shade of palm trees. Thick mud huts keep families cool under the boiling sun. It would be 1,892 years before the first ice cubes would be invented and nearly two millennia until air conditioning. Even Jesus Christ wouldn’t be born until another 48 years. But what you have are the teachings of Aristotle and the works of Euclid. You're the first and only female scholar at the Library of Alexandria, the first institute of its kind. All your life has been spent in the pursuit of knowledge — until the arrival of a mysterious young scholar named Aemond.

Series warnings: period typical misogyny, ancient academia, teacher x student relationship (but they're the same age), violence, fire, sexual content (18+), reader is loosely based off of Hypatia of Alexandria, Targaryens x Ptolemies crossover, character deaths, inaccurate history for the sake of storytelling, accusations of witchcraft, debates on fictional religions, Daemon being a menace.

🏛⏳️

Chapter I: Broken Dragonfly Wings

Chapter II: A Swarm of Locusts - Coming soon.

[roseunspindle]

What if shortly before Rhaenyra and fam arrive to defend Lucerys right as heir, Aemond has a training accident. Takes a nasty wallop to the head.

Now, he wakes up with no real memories. He gets the Green sides run down of things, but from an outsider with no internalized prejudices.

He can...see thins a bit clearer. Such as how inconvenient a king like Daemon would have been for Otto, and equally now, how inconvenient a Queen like Rhaenyra would be for him. (He's found himself often talking to lord beesbury who seems to have a relatively unbiased view of things.)

He can see easily that Aegon is a useless drunken raper and ass.

That Helaena is all things sweet but she's suffering.

That his *mother*...

Honestly the way the queen had acted at first he thought she was his wife or something. She keeps pl s looking to him for comfort and reassurance and it's odd. She's also venomous about Rhaenyra. Though according to lord beesbury the queen and princess had been dear friends until the queen wed the princesses father after visiting him without telling the princess. Then the whole affair with daemon and the brothel, and the queen "declaring war" her sworn shield abandoning the princess for the queen after brutally killing the prince consorts paramour...

It does not paint the "greens" in a good light.

His eye is a matter of conention... but he wants to ask young lucerys first and foremost why. All he's heard from those not in hightower pockets say the boys are fine squires and haven't the...reputation aegon does.

That the boys may be "bastards" doesn't bother him at present for he knows he lacks context for what being a bastard means. He is confused that their hair color is at fault for paintings depicting princess rhaenys in the portrait hall show the targayen princess with a full head of raven locks. Princess Alyssa, his own grandmother has golden hair and mismatched eyes.

It does ache and he wants to know. But he cannot truly trust most of his family to actually tell him anything truthful.

Helaena tries but he does not always understand.

He does like his dragon, Vhagar, the grand old dragon seems fond of him too and there is nothing at all like dragon flight.

[sephirothsplaything]

DNA| Sec.80 high power-chapter 6.1

A/N: Me when this is the shortest chapter i've ever written. Yes this is filler but I promise some of the stuff in here will be important later on.

also, young rhaella flashback with her mommy TT

Kings Landing, Aemond’s 12th name day, Pre the death of Lady Laena Velyeron.

“ I wish to ride with father!” A young Baela exclaimed. The family was preparing to set off towards King’s landing for Aemond Targayen’s twelfth name day.

Laena smiled fondly at her daughter. She glanced at her youngest, Rhaella. With her large, violet eyes and her silver curls piled into an updo on her head, the girl was only one and ten years of age.

“Would you like to ride on Caraxes, Rhaella?” Laena asked. Rhaella shook her head furiously. Her father’s red dragon was much too fast for her liking. Instead, she turned towards her mother’s own dragon, Vhagar.

Baela pulled Rhaena by Caraxes, sticking her tongue out to Rhaella childishly.

“Rhaena and I shall have all the fun!” Baela said. Rhaella clutched the wrapped gift in her hand, intended for her cousin Aemond.

“Baela, be nice.” Laena reminded. Daemon looked on at his children in amusement. He couldn’t understand where Rhaella’s quiet nature came from.

Daemon helped his two twins onto Caraxes, before hiking himself to mount. Rhaella watched the dragon take off into the sky in envy.

One day, she’d hope. One day she too will be in the skies.

“Come, my love, let us be off,” Laena said. Rhaella’s tiny brown hand brushed against Vhagar’s hardened scales. The mighty she-dragon allowed it, even softly chuffing at the action.

Laena picked up her daughter, mounting Vhagar. The dragon was slow to leave the ground as Laena tightened her grip on the reigns.

“Vhagar, sōvēs.” She said. Rhaella held onto her mother’s waist as the weight shifted and the dragon took to the sky.

“Are you excited to see your cousins, Rhaella?” Laena asked. Rhaella hummed thoughtfully. Her older cousin, Helaena, was three and ten years old and was always nice to her. Rhaella had been eager to speak with her again. She hated Aegon, his sleazy gazes made her want to hide.

“I took one of Father’s books, for Aemond,” Rhaella said. Laena couldn’t fight the smile. Daemon would be deeply annoyed at the discovery.

“I’m sure Aemond will appreciate it, dear,” Laena said.

After a while, the pair flew over Kings Landing. Laena landed Vhagar a ways away from the city. Laena jumped down from her dragon, helping Rhaella off as well.

Rhaella adjusted the blush-colored fabrics of her dress. The matching headband was off-centered due to the wind. Chuckling, Laena adjusted it on Rhaella’s head.

“There, and how pretty you look!” Laena gushed. She glanced at the book in her daughter’s hands with a playful smile.

“I’m sure Aemond will agree as well,” Laena said. Rhaella looked away from her mother bashfully. She was always saying things like that. Rhaella supposed her mother liked to jest.

Mother and daughter walk to the gates of the Red Keep. In the outer courts, the festivities had long since begun.

Rhaella could see her two sisters already in conversation with their cousins, Jace and Luke. 

“Laena, I see you’ve made it.” A voice rang. Princess Rhaenyra approached the two, smiling eagerly. Rhaella watched the two women embrace as she stood awkwardly to the side.

Pulling back from Laena, Rhaenyra smiled at the small girl by her side.

“ Aren’t you just a proper lady!” Rhaenyra said. Rhaella gave a shy smile to the princess.

Leaving the women to catch up, Rhaella walked over to the long table. Baela was engaged in a spirited conversation with Jace while Rhaena and Luke watched on.

“Where is Aemond?” Rhaella asked. She had noticed that the boy was nowhere to be seen, and on his name day no less.

“I don’t much care,” Baela said. Rhaella’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. She had thought her sister would have the courtesy of being a little softer on this day.

Rhaella abandoned the group, wandering far from the party. The bright sun was beaming down on her face, temporarily obscuring her vision.

Then, she saw him. Propped up in front of a Weirwood tree, there sat Aemond.

Rhaella sighed out, glad her walking efforts we not in vain. She took a seat in the grass opposite to him.

Aemond glanced up in surprise. Rhaella and her quiet footsteps had startled him.

“I suppose everyone is missing me if they sent you here,” Aemond said. Rhaella toyed with the book’s wrapped parchment.

“ In truth, no one much cares,” Rhaella said, rather bluntly. Despite her tone, her eyes met his, clear with mirth. 

“I thought as much,” Aemond said, sullen look deepening. His attention was pulled to the present in the girls’ hands.

“What’s that?” Aemond asked. Rhaella passed the book to him.

“It’s for you,” Rhaella said. Aemond eagerly ripped apart the covering, revealing the book.

‘ Dragons and Histories’ 

“ Father will be cross with me for taking it, but we have plenty of others,” Rhaella said.

“Thank you, Rhaella,” Aemond said gratefully. Rhaella shrugged. She had read through the same book many times herself. She knew her cousin shared the same hunger to learn.

Scooting closer to him, Rhaella flipped to a page she knew well. Sketches of Balerion, the Black Dread filled the page. Among all the dragons, Rhaella favored him above all else. 

“Father told me he was named after the Old Valyrian God of death,” Rhaella said. Aemond looked at her in awe. His cousin always seemed to know much and more than he ever could. 

“I want a dragon like that,” Aemond said. He longed for something undeniable in power. Something that the realm would have no choice but to acknowledge.

“I think I would too.” Rhaella agreed. Aemond gave her a side glance.

“ Balerion was ridden by Aegon the Conqueror, he would be best suited for a man.” 

Rhaella scoffed at the absurdity of the comment. “ Princess Aerea rode him, you should know that if the maesters have taught you anything at all.” She said.

Aemond fell silent at Rhaella’s scolding. Rhaella’s eyes soften. Perhaps she had been too harsh, it was his name day after all.

“One day, you and I will fly all over the realm together,” Rhaella said. 

“I want to see the ruins of Old Valyria,” Aemond said. Rhaella pulled a face. Old Valyria was a dangerous place but she declined to add the fact in for Aemond’s sake.

“I’d much rather see Dorne,” Rhaella said. It was the only place their ancestors couldn’t overtake. Her curiosities regarding the place always bubbled over.

“Dorne, why?” Aemond asked. Rhaella closed the book, pushing it to the side.

“It’s warm and the women are fair,” Rhaella said. Aemond glanced at her in confusion.

“Perhaps I’d marry a Dornish prince as well. Rhaella added. Aemond grimaced. Why she would venture to Dorne for a husband? It was beyond him.

“They’re all right, you are quite strange,” Aemond said. Rolling her eyes, Rhaella stood up in a huff, dusting off her dress.

Aemond stood as well, placing the book under his arm. 

“I don’t much like being called that,” Rhaella said. The two began walking to the festivities. Rhaella was fixed on not missing the cake.

Suddenly, Rhaella halted in place, a sly smile dancing across her face. Turning to Aemond, she places a peck on his cheek, causing the boy to freeze.

A furious blush makes its way to Aemond’s cheek, much to Rhaella’s enjoyment.

“What was that for?” Aemond asked, fumbling his words.

Rhaella stared at him in bemusement. She turned to continue walking, Aemond quick on her heels. 

“You should cheer up, cousin,” Rhaella said.

“I’m here for you, after all.” 

[dulcewrites]

Omg that would be such a slap to the face for Aemond and I’m kind of living for it. Imaging him and the reader finally reconcile just for her to die and the kids realizing he’s the root of all the problems. Living with the guilt that he did this he ruined it. Yes, a happy ending would be lovely but realistically they wouldn’t have that loving relationship asap. It would take years for reader to forgive and even rekindle love for him. She’s not the same person at the beginning who would let Aemond tell them pretty lies and carry another child to forget all about it. It’s even showing in Daella how she’s no longer interested in the things that tie her to the father. His actions definitely reflect and even though she’s young she can sense it too. For the sake of the children and their safety I hope they’d come to an agreement or at least in a situation where they are safe. But to have the reader die for her children and Aemond realizing he could’ve prevented all of this but he didn’t *chef’s kiss*.

Omg but now I’m thinking about Aegon for statues of Aemond and daeron commissioned… he would so do that for reader if she died. Truly just fell to my knees in Walmart.

A targayen man leading to his wife getting killed… a tale as old as time