thavampress

[thavampress]

[thavampress]

A Court of Flame

Aemond x OC!femTargaryen

Chapter Warnings: This is long lol, light touching/teasing but barely

Masterlist

(Dividers by @firefly-graphics)

Chapter Five

~Saesha~

Saesha was roused by the maids. She sat up, warm streaks of light flowing across the room. She couldn’t help but stare at the wall beside the fireplace. She remembered Aemond’s tall shape slipping through the door that now had no evidence of existing. She remembered…

Her cheeks burned at the thought, and she could hardly believe she had been so bold. She did manage two cups of wine before Aemond appeared in her chambers, perhaps granting her some much needed liquid courage.

Saesha had heard of pleasuring one’s partner with their mouth, but she never imagined the reaction she had received. She had barely been able to keep her wits about her when Aemond offered to reciprocate.

Her skin was burning by the time she got out of bed, her night dress sticking to her. She groaned. The maids had begun to run her a bath.

“That can wait,” she said, slightly sharper than she had intended. “Dress me for flying instead. I will bathe when I return.”

One maid looked to the other, “Forgive me, princess, but we have been strictly instructed by the Queen to bathe and dr-“

“I understand. I am giving you a new instruction. Please fetch my riding clothes.”

The maids did not argue further, making quick work of dressing Saesha in her riding leathers. She slipped through the castle as quickly and quietly as she could. The halls were already bustling wildly with servants of every caliber prepping for the evening’s wedding. Saesha’s wedding. Her skin was on fire.

She managed to escape the castle walls without questioning, hurrying to the back of the Keep as she had before, meeting Vermithor’s enormous shape by the Blackwater Rush.

She mounted him and commanded him upward, knowing the maids who readied her would be reporting back to Alicent any moment. Vermithor took to the skies with a familiar gust of wind, and Saesha reveled in the cool air hitting her skin.

She tried to bank her dragon around the backside of the castle to stay out of sight as long as possible. Mount and rider dipped and spun, riding the currents of the wind with grace. For a time, Saesha felt free, until a massive shadow eclipsed the sun above her.

~Aemond~

Aemond had spent the night staring at the canopy of his bed trying to fathom that his visit to Saesha had been real. He also spent a significant amount of time battling the hard-on he could not seem to shake.

By the time morning rolled around, Aemond had barely gotten any sleep. Not ideal for a man’s wedding day. He spent his morning to himself, reading by the warm sunlight filtering through his window. He had finally found a relative peace—until Alicent barged into his room with a look of panic.

“Mother,” Aemond greeted, standing startled, “what-“

“Saesha has flown off! I’m sure she means to abandon us,” she said in a tizzy. “Gods, I should have known better. I should’ve gone straight to ready her myself!”

Aemond couldn’t explain that he was almost certain Saesha did not intend to abandon him after the night they had. Alicent huffed, bringing her hand up to rest against her forehead.

Aemond took his leave of her—after assuring he would be back with his betrothed in towe before the wedding was to begin. His path was held up by a few lords congratulating him on the fair match, and wishing him many sons. Of course, Aemond wanted a son. He had seen what a dispute of succession could do, and didn’t want any more conflict with the matter. But truly, he looked forward to daughters.

A son felt like unsure footing, strange enough. A boy to discipline, a man to make—something his own father had no helping hand in. With daughters, it felt like Aemond could allow himself to soften. Daughters he could love without condition.

After finally making it free of the castle walls, Aemond found Vhagar coming down to meet him near the bluff. He jogged to get to her, climbing the rope to finally make it to the peak of her back.

“Sōvēs,” Aemond commanded, and the ancient beast took off. It didn’t take him long to find Saesha—seconds in fact. He smiled as he watched her soar around with a veteran dragonrider’s poise. He coasted Vhagar higher, bringing her over the top of Vermithor.

He could see Saesha’s loose white hair flowing behind her, her head turning to look up at him. Then she dove, sending Vermithor plunging downward. Aemond could not maneuver Vhagar so easily, so he pursued Saesha from afar, trying his very best to keep a safe distance.

He followed her over the city, and down toward the same beach they had met on once before. He climbed down once they’d landed, turning to see Saesha’s approaching shape.

“Have you come to wrangle me to the alter?” She asked when they were face to face. Her hair fell unrestricted down her back in unkempt waves. He’d never seen her completely undone before—he was quite fond of it.

Aemond smiled. “I’ve been sent to make sure you don’t mean to abandon me.”

“I thought after last night you wouldn’t doubt my intention to marry you, princeling.”

She was so confident in her words, and yet her pink cheeks betrayed her.

Aemond found himself gazing down at her, unsure what to say. He leaned down a little instead, and Saesha tilted her head without hesitation. Aemond’s hand went to her face, pressing his lips to hers. He went slow and soft, but with purpose like always. The soft lapping of waves covered the light smooches.

“I am glad you wish to marry me,” Aemond said when they broke apart. I am glad you do not think me terrible and wicked.

Saesha smiled, leaning her face into his palm. “I am glad it is you I’ll marry, out of anyone else. You are not what I expected, princeling.”

Aemond felt full then, and warm in a way he hadn’t since early childhood. “I should get you back,” he whispered.

Saesha nodded, seeming more relaxed. “I suppose I’ll see you in the sept.”

Aemond tilted her face up to kiss her once more. “Please try to stay out of trouble until then,” he laughed before leaning down to whisper in her ear, “and later, I’ll finally get to return the favor.”

Her face was flushed when he pulled away, but she was grinning. He reluctantly freed her from his grasp and watched as Saesha mounted herself on Vermithor once again. They took off together, Aemond flying right behind her. He watched to make sure she landed safely at the foot of the Keep, before opting to take Vhagar out for a bit longer.

~Saesha~

Saesha was swarmed with handmaids the second she entered the castle. Alicent appeared around the corridor and rushed them, her soft blue skirts rustled with each quick step.

Saesha dropped into a low curtesy, bowing her head. “Forgive me, your grace. I had no intention of raising your worry. I simply needed the air.”

Alicent sighed as Saesha lifted her head. She didn’t look as flushed as she had barreling down the hallway. Instead, she was looking at Saesha intently, with a look in her eyes that Saesha couldn’t identify.

“I know what it is like to wish to be free,” Alicent said finally. “Just please let me know next time you wish to take flight on one of the most important days of all of our lives.”

Saesha smiled, and Alicent mirrored her. “Now, can we please get you into the bath?” Alicent begged, taking in Saesha’s windswept hair.

Saesha laughed, nodding as the maids began to usher her back to her chambers.

Three maids assisted in Saesha’s bath, which she deemed overkill. One stood at her head, washing and brushing her hair until it looked like a sheet or pearly silver. Another worked on scrubbing her skin with rose and mint scented oils, while the third clipped and cleaned her nails.

As they finished her bath, wrapping Saesha in a green silk robe, Alicent entered with two more maids trailing her. They held an enormous box between the two of them, moving to set it on the edge of her bed. Alicent was grinning as Saesha approached.

“Is it..?”

“Your dress,” Alicent affirmed. “I checked it already. It’s exactly as we discussed.”

Saesha reached out, running a finger along the edge of the box, nodding to the maids who brought it in the remove the lid.

There it lay, the most elaborate and magnificent gown Saesha had ever seen. Alicent had commissioned the start of the gown before Saesha had even arrived in King’s Landing, her measurements having been sent ahead from Dragonstone. Though the foundation was mostly laid, Alicent gave Saesha free reign to customize the gown as she saw fit. The one concession she had refused to make was allowing Saesha to choose black for the fabric. She figured using either black or green was in poor taste, as the entire point of Aemond and Saesha’s union was to put any memory of the Dance to bed for good.

The maids lifted the dress from the box, laying it out on the bed. They went instead with white for the base of the gown, deciding to keep it traditional. The sleeves were long, and lined with pearlescent white scales from shoulder to wrist, where they billowed out and down to the floor. The insides of the long sleeve-tails were embroidered with black scales—the small honor she was allowed for her mother. The bodice was corseted and adorned with more scales to the point that the upper half of the dress looked like armor. The skirt was full, with more embroidery down the sides and back of black and purple dragons and flowers.

It was work of art. Each stitch and scale was perfectly laid, not a single fray or flaw to be found. Saesha felt strangely emotional looking down at her wedding gown.

Alicent took notice, dismissing the staff from the room. Saesha felt her place a gentle had on her arm, pulling her from her stupor. A single tear fell down her cheek, and Alicent clicked her tongue at the sight, gently pulling Saesha into her for an embrace. Saesha didn’t fight her, suddenly feeling she had needed the hug.

Alicent held onto her until Saesha stepped back, swiping the tears from her cheeks. “I am sorry your mother cannot be here today,” Alicent said softly. “I hope I can bring you some comfort where she would.”

Normally, Saesha would sneer at a comment like this. It had been Alicent’s own betrayal that helped spark her family’s downfall, yet Saesha could see in her eyes that she meant what she said.

“Thank you, your grace.”

“Please,” the Queen scoffed, “do call me Alicent. You are to be my daughter-in-law by the end of the day. We can be past formalities.”

The maids were invited back in then to begin Saesha’s hair. The styling would take hours, so they had to begin early.

And hours it did take. Finally, nearing the end of hour three, Saesha had a braided crown wrapped around her head, with the bottom layer free and curled down her shoulders. Tiny amethyst crystals were woven into the crown to match the purple theme of her gown. Saesha looked at the styling with deep approval, feeling more like the princess she was than she had since long before the Dance.

Alicent clasped her hands over her heart. “Oh my dear, you look magnificent and we haven’t even dressed you yet. We may yet get a public smile from Aemond.”

Saesha laughed at her comment. Alicent then clapped lightly, “Right, let’s get this gown on. We have no time to waste!”

Another flurry of maids and Saesha was laced into her dress. The image altogether was truly something to behold. Not only did she look every inch a princess, but bride. A Targaryen bride.

Alicent was crying now, and all the maids in the room looked at Saesha with admiration and approval. A squire entered, also seeming to pause to take in Saesha’s appearance.

“Your graces,” he said, clearing his throat, “the court has begun to gather in the sept.”

“Come, come,” Alicent clapped again, sniffling, “it’s time.”

With a shuddering breath and a last look in the mirror, Saesha nodded and followed Alicent from her chambers.

~Aemond~

After his flight, Aemond headed for his chambers to bathe. Much to his dismay, he was ambushed by his brother accompanied by Ser Criston Cole before he could make it there.

“Come on, brother,” Aegon begged. “It’s your wedding day! Come and have some fun with us.”

“It won’t be anything distasteful, my prince, I will ensure it,” Cole added. “We will stay in the Keep.”

“What exactly did you fools have in mind?” Aemond questioned, quirking his eyebrow.

“Have a drink, play a game with us,” Ser Criston offered.

“Loosen. The fuck. Up.” Aegon stated, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “You are to marry a beautiful woman today. I know your feelings on whores so there will be none of that. Just us, some lads of the court. It’ll be fun.”

Aemond rolled his eyes. “I have no interest in your bachelor festivities.”

As Aemond turned to leave, Aegon reached out to grab his arm. “Then at least let us come be with you while you ready yourself. Just me and Cole.”

Aegon had a strange look a clarity and almost pleading in his eyes. It made Aemond nod his head firmly, stalking toward his chambers with his brother and Ser Criston trailing behind.

Aemond opted not to drink. He wanted to be clear headed for all of the days events. Aegon drank happily, while Ser Criston only nursed a single cup. Aemond sat at his desk, a round mirror propped up on it so he could watch the maid braid small sections of his hair back.

She took two pieces from the front on either side, braiding them back into a small bun at the back of his head, long braid tails running out of it. The rest of his hair was pin straight and loose down his back.

“Like a Dothraki going to battle, brother,” Aegon smiled, holding his goblet up in a toast. Aemond rolled his eyes.

He was dressed next. He wore a black doublet—as usual—but this one had nearly invisible dragon scales embossed into the leather. The lining of them a deep red that appeared black unless under direct sunlight. Targaryen colors. His eyepatch was made from the finest black leather.

“You cut a handsome figure, my prince,” Cole complimented.

Aemond bowed his head in thanks, not spending too long lingering in the mirror. They could begin to hear the sounds of a procession down the corridor toward Aemond’s chambers. It was no doubt the Hand coming to escort them to the sept. Aemond thought of Saesha, being ushered into a litter by his mother. He wondered if she might be feeling as overwhelmed as he was.

Ser Criston opened the door, preparing for the Hand’s entrance. Aegon turned to Aemond then, taking his hand in his. Aemond fought the urge to flinch.

“Do you think you could grow to have real feelings for this girl?” Aegon asked genuinely.

Aemond cocked his head, surprised by such a question from his brother. “I believe I already have,” he answered.

Aegon smiled. “That is good. She seems like the right type.”

“The right type?” Aemond questioned. “For what?”

Aegon hummed. “It will be better if you have a strong Queen.”

As Aemond opened his mouth to question him, Otto and the other lords of the small counsel were standing in the doorway. Otto smiled, his chin raised.

“My prince, it is time we proceed to the sept,” the Hand announced.

The journey to the sept was blur, as was the announcement to the hundreds of lords and ladies in attendance that Aemond had arrived. He walked down the isle stoically, facing the massive Seven Pointed Star hanging above the alter.

Then they waited. The whole sept was eerily still in anticipation of the bride’s arrival. Then, the doors were yanked open, and every head in sept turned to behold Saesha Targaryen in full wedding regalia at the end of the isle.

Aemond sucked in a breath at the sight as the announcement of her title rang out, and she proceeded down toward him.

~Saesha~

Don’t trip, don’t look at the crowd, breathe, Saesha recounted to herself with each step. She gazed up at the Seven Pointed Star before allowing her eyes to drop to where Aemond stood below it. She smiled a little at the sight, and she watched as the corner of Aemond’s lip quirked when he saw it.

He was dashingly handsome all dressed up. Aemond took care of his appearance always, but seeing his hair braided in traditional fashion and wearing their house colors was quite a treat.

She made sure to keep her pace steady. The isle seemed miles long, and she clenched her jaw at each whisper from the lords and ladies surrounding her. But her eyes never left Aemond. The second she had landed on him, she felt an unspoken reassurance that helped her take each step toward him.

Finally she made it to him, and Aemond extended his hand to help her up the steps. His palm was warm, and rough, and familiar. Saesha let out the breath she’d been holding.

The ceremony was traditional, and without event. Aemond cloaked her under his protection, and they said their vows in the name of the Seven. The crowd cheered as they were finally announced as husband and wife.

Husband and wife, Saesha heard the words ringing in her ears all the way out of the sept and to the carriage awaiting the newly weds. She felt Aemond’s hand envelope hers once again, bringing her back to reality. He helped her into the carriage before climbing in after her.

“You look stunning, princess,” Aemond said to her once they were rumbling away from the sept and back toward the Keep.

Saesha observed him sitting across from her, “And you look rather dashing, princeling.”

“One last feast, dragonling,” Aemond said with a sly smile, “and then I’m all yours.”

Saesha let out a breath, smiling deviously at him. “Well then, husband, let us make haste.”

The entire city seemed to be out to celebrate their union, and when they made it back to the castle it was no different. The courtyard, the halls, every bit of the keep was decorated in dragon banners and black and red streamers. Apparently the staff had been busy while they were all away at the ceremony.

Saesha breathed a sigh of relief when she and Aemond were ushered into a side room to wait until they were summoned as one into the throne room. Quiet fell easily over them both, only the hum of a hundred voices throughout the castle to be heard. A breeze blew the soft linen curtains back, allowing the sea air to drift into the room.

Finally, Saesha’s gaze paused on Aemond, who was staring back at her intensely. He took two slow, easily strides to her, cupping her face in both large hands.

“Ābrazȳrys,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over hers.

“Valzȳrys,” she hummed back, closing the gap to press her lips against his.

He sighed, leaning into her. Saesha couldn’t help the smile that quirked the corners of her mouth. Aemond took another step forward—never breaking the kiss—backing her up until they both bumped clumsily into a table. His large hands found her thighs, lifting her up to seat her on the table. Saesha was dizzy as he found his place between her legs, both his hands still on her face as he kissed her again and again and again, somehow deeper each time.

Finally, Saesha tore away, chest heaving and cheeks no doubt as flushed as ever. Aemond was grinning, his own breaths coming out in pants as he ran his thumb over her bottom lip.

“My, my, how did ever get so lucky,” he whispered in their mother tongue.

Saesha smiled wickedly, arching her face up to wordlessly ask for another kiss. Aemond happily obliged.

“That may remain a mystery for the rest of time, princeling,” Saesha responded when they broke away again.

Aemond hummed, his remaining violet eye dark as it had been the night before. Saesha’s breath caught as he slowly lifted the hem of her dress, pushing it up her stockinged thighs. She attempted to keep her breathing under control, failing miserably when Aemond stoked a testing finger over her clothed center.

She sucked in a sharp breath at the contact, her lilac eyes flickering closed. Aemond chucked a little, leaning in to inhale her neck before pressing sloppy wet kisses down to her collarbone.

Another testing swipe at her covered folds.

Saesha bit her lip fighting desperately to keep her sounds contained. Finally, just as Aemond hooked a finger into her small clothes, a knock sounded at the door.

Aemond withdrew from her much to quickly, and Saesha nearly pouted like a child. Aemond laughed, walking over to the door and opening it just a crack.

“My prince,” a servant greeted, “the court awaits you both in the throne room.”

Aemond hummed again, sighing. “Well then, my wife, I suppose we shouldn’t keep anyone waiting.”

Saesha could tell he was doing everything in his power to keep the shit-eating grin off his face. His handsome, rideable face, Saesha thought, despite herself.

She slid from the table, righting her skirts before marching past Aemond to follow the servant to the throne room.

~

I’m sorry there’s no smut like promised. This chapter was wayyyy longer than I intended, but I swear to you all next chapter you shall feast.

Message me to be tagged.

-Taglist-

@hopebaker

@snh96

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[thavampress]

No, I don't have a plot for my book.

I have a vibe and these three ocs I found in a dumpster.

[thavampress]

Y/N: *accidentally brushes Aemond's hand with her own*

Aemond:

Aemond: *aggressively holds Y/N's hand*

Aemond, under his breath to Y/N: Fucking commit to it.

[thavampress]

this captured perfectly their relationship

[thavampress]

Game of Thrones Dividers

Please like and reblog if you use or save.

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[thavampress]

Update

Hello everyone!

I’ve recently gained a couple new followers (hi, welcome, and thank you!)

I promise I am working on a Court of Flame. The wedding chapter is next 🤭 and it’s way longer than I intended. I’m trying to serve the smut I know everyone wants lol.

Chapter Five coming soon!

Thank you all for your patience love you bye

[thavampress]

almost every sketch so far 🫴

[thavampress]

A Court of Flame

Aemond x OC!Targaryen

Chapter Warnings: NSFW, slight m masturbation, oral (m receiving), slight praise

Masterlist

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter Four

~Aemond~

Aemond was awake early the morning after the feast. He rose with the sun as he did normally, but he found he couldn’t sit still. Usually, he’d read by the fire until the rest of the castle roused, but he couldn’t seem to focus on the words on the page.

Finally, he snapped the book shut in defeat, opting instead to make his way toward Saesha’s chambers. Fitting, as she seemed to be the only thought in his head since last night. It was earlier than the last time he’d retrieved her, so he didn’t expect her to be awake. He made sure to stroll rather than march as he usually did.

Saesha marched everywhere she went, always walking with purpose. He’d watched lords of the castle dodge out her way, the menace.

When Aemond turned the corner to Saesha’s room at the end of the corridor, he noticed the door was open. A brief spike of panic shot through him, and his restraint for a leisurely pace evaporated. He was in the doorway in seconds, only to find Saesha sitting in her favorite red velvet chair like it was a throne, legs crossed. Her ring-adorned fingers—always wearing rings—tapped the arm rest.

She’d been waiting for him.

“Princess,” he used the name as a taunt now, “I didn’t expect you to be awake yet.”

“And yet you came to my chambers anyway,” she answered.

“Well, I suppose you’ve got me there,” Aemond smiled. “I couldn’t seem to occupy myself in my chambers so I figured I would stop by on the off chance you happened to be ready early.”

He allowed himself a glance over her. She was dressed for the yard as she had been before: leather trousers, corseted vest over her padded shirt—all black. Her thick white hair was braided back in one braid that went from the top of her head to her lower back.

“And here I am, princeling.”

They paused, staring at each other.

“Shall we go then?” Aemond asked, breaking the silence. “We could get an hour or two in before the yard begins in stir in preparation for today’s tourney.”

Saesha pushed herself from her seat, stalking over to Aemond with clasped hands. They were toe, noses nearly brushing. She leaned up, reaching for his lips. Aemond clenched his jaw, angling away from her slightly.

He heard her make a quiet sound between a growl and a whine before feeling the slightest sharpness against his lower back. He dropped his chin to see her grinning wickedly up at him.

“Have you pulled a knife on me again?” Aemond shook his head, a smirk playing at his lips. “No, you are no princess. You’re a dragonling.”

Something shifted in Saesha’s eyes then, the lilac had darkened to a brilliant violet. “Kiss me, Aemond.”

She rarely called him by his name, and Aemond fought a shiver from the way she used it. How could he deny her? He cupped her face in one hand and ran the other around her back to pull her close.

Gods, her lips, Aemond thought.

She even kissed with purpose. Their mouths moved together easily, and when her tongue ran along his bottom lip, Aemond felt powerless to stop himself from consuming her.

Saesha breathed a soft moan into his mouth and Aemond ripped away immediately. He looked down at her, lips swollen and cheeks flushed.

“If I plan to keep my resolve,” he panted, “you cannot make that sound for the next twenty-four hours.”

Saesha beamed with a broad smile. “We shall fight instead.”

She pulled herself out of his arms, sheathing the dagger she had pinned behind his back at her hip. “You promised no more hidden daggers,” Aemond protested as she pulled him by the hand.

“Perhaps I lied, princeling,” Saesha sneered.

Aemond yanked her toward him by the hand just before they made it out her door. She spun, and he caught her with a firm but gentle hand around her throat. He had her up against the closed side of the door in an instant. Her chest heaved nervously, but her eyes were burning with that familiar fire.

He brought his face close to hers, his hand still curled around her neck. “No more lies, dragonling. Not to me, not ever.”

Saesha’s pupils were blown as a grin slowly crept across her face. “I swear it,” she said, barely above a whisper.

He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Then you have the same vow from me.”

He meant it, and he could see she did too. As Aemond looked down at her, gazing back at him with a certain willingness, he vowed to himself to never take her for granted. Saesha had every right to be spiteful and cold toward him, and yet she accepted him and her fate of marrying him with grace. Though, she seemed to find a certain retribution in subtly terrorizing the members of the court.

Aemond let his hand fall from her throat, remaining close to her. “Well dragonling, we are losing our head start.”

Saesha snuck in a quick kiss before ducking away from him and slipping out the cracked chamber door.

+

As Aemond had predicted, the yard was empty when they made it there. The sun had just begun to beam over the castle walls, spilling a lovely golden light over them. Aemond moved to pick up two training swords, turning back to see Saesha standing with her hands leisurely behind her back, admiring the morning. The golden light made her white hair glow, and Aemond felt suddenly like he was in the presence of a goddess.

Though he’d never admit it to her, for fear of her ego being blown.

Aemond swallowed the smile on his lips and tossed a sword to her. She caught it with an impressive grace.

“Tell me,” Aemond said as they began to circle one another, “just how often did you train with your father?”

Saesha hummed, amused, as she adjusted her grip on her sparring sword. “Every morning since I was old enough to lift a sword, though I haven’t had the chance since the Dance broke out.”

Saesha’s father, Daemon Targaryen, had been another casualty at Aemond’s family’s hands. Aemond’s younger brother, Daeron, had been sent to meet Daemon at Harenhaal, where they both met an untimely demise. It was supposed to have been Aemond, but he was called to defend the coastline along the city.

Aemond never knew just how grateful he’d be for the replacement, no matter how much he grieved his little brother.

Saesha stepped forward then, engaging him with a few swats of her sword. Aemond countered, testing her. She defended well enough, but he had only just begun.

They danced around the yard, Aemond tapping and Saesha whacking, laughing and throwing insults. After an hour of sparring—with breaks in which Aemond would teach her little tricks—Ser Criston’s call pulled their attention from each other.

Aemond craned his neck to the top of the stairs, his mother standing rigidly beside her knight. He knew Alicent wouldn’t necessarily be happy with this unsupervised get together of theirs, regardless of their soon approaching marriage. Saesha offered a polite bow of her head, dipping her knees slightly in acknowledgment for the Queen. Alicent offered a tight-lipped smile, beckoning Aemond with her eyes.

“Well princess,” Aemond sighed, catching his sparring sword by its dull blade, “it appears our peace has finally been broken.”

Saesha nodded. “Your mother did not seem pleased.”

Aemond cracked a joyless smile, “She hides it well, no?”

Saesha approached him, tossing a glance over her shoulder be sure Alicent had taken her leave. “I do not blame her. I stand for everything she despises. My family took her children from her. Now she must surrender the best of those remaining to her to me, a reflection of my mother.”

“Ah, Saesha,” Aemond’s smile was real now, “for once your wise words are wrong.”

Saesha peered up at him confused.

“This was no political plot hatched my my grandfather. Otto disdained the idea of my marriage to you, for all the reasons you just said,” Saesha’s lilac eyes searched his face. “It was all my mother’s idea. She was the one who convinced Otto of our betrothal…and me.”

“I don’t understand,” Saesha began, “If not just for politics, why?”

Aemond paused. “She felt the least she could do, after everything, was give sanctuary a girl left all alone.”

Saesha flinched, her eyes suddenly glassy. She look at Aemond hard for a moment, her face betraying nothing but slight shock.

“And is that why you agreed to marry me, princeling? To help a stray kitten?”

“I agreed to marry you because my mother told me it would benefit our family,” Aemond answered. “And because a year ago, before the Dance, you were the only one above the pettiness enough to spare me of the whispered jokes and sideways glances. You were nothing like the rest of them, Saesha, even if I couldn’t tell why then.”

“And can you now?” She whispered.

“I believe I’m starting to.”

~Saesha~

Saesha took her leave of Aemond, deciding to get breakfast while he attended to his mother. She had half a mind to barge down into the kitchens herself to see what she could scrounge up, but instead opted to return to her chambers and have breakfast brought to her. She had her maids run her a scalding hot bath—the only way Saesha took them.

She dismissed the maids to go and fetch her food, freeing herself from her sparring clothes and sinking into the hot water, humming with delight. The bath had been scented with eucalyptus, which made Saesha melt further into the tub.

A light knock sounded at the door, and Saesha shouted for them to enter assuming it was the maids with her breakfast. Instead, Aemond strode into the room, the door falling shut behind him before he realized what was in front of him.

Saesha startled up, covering her chest with her crossed arms and bringing her knees up. Aemond was frozen in the middle of her room, his remaining eye gazing at her.

“Aemond Targaryen,” Saesha breathed, “what on earth do think you’re doing?”

Aemond couldn’t help the smirk that cracked his features. “I did knock, dragonling. You invited me in.”

“I had assumed you were my maids with breakfast,” she huffed, pulling her knees closer to her chest.

“Well,” Aemond drawled, taking a step forward to sink into the chair beside him, “perhaps you shouldn’t assume who’s at your door when you’re in such a…state.”

He cocked his head, observing her from where he sat. Saesha was sure he could only see her head from the high rim of the tub now that he seated, so she let her legs go, turning a little to face him.

“My the state your mother would be if she saw you now,” Saesha tsked.

“My mother is not here,” he answered in such a tone that Saesha couldn’t help but shiver. It did not go unnoticed. She watched Aemond’s violet eye darken a shade, and his jaw tick with anticipation.

“My maids will return any moment,” Saesha could only whisper.

Aemond hummed, and the sound made her body flush. She tried desperately to tell herself it was the heat of the water. “I will take my leave then, princess.”

He rose from the chair, folding his hands behind his back before striding over to her. Saesha scrambled to crumple her arms up again, but Aemond was on her too fast. He grabbed her wrists tightly, but still gentle enough that he did not hurt her. She stared hard into his eye, but he was busy wandering over what he could glimpse of her body.

He passed one of her wrists to his other hand, easily holding both in his grip. He moved his freed hand to gingerly grasp her jaw, lifting her mouth to his. Saesha leaned up to meet him, suddenly not caring as much about her exposed chest. He kissed her passionately and deliberately, as if he’d studied the subject. Knowing Aemond, he very well might have.

Saesha reached her hands to wrap around his neck, but Aemond pulled away just as he had time and time again. She groaned in frustration, and Aemond grinned at her as he stood again to full height.

“Remember, princess,” he cupped her chin again, running his thumb briefly over her bottom lip, “we must keep our decency. It’s only one more night.”

She threw him a scowl, “Oh please, you keep your resolve all you want. Good luck at the tourney today, princeling.”

Saesha hadn’t missed the tightness of Aemond’s pants, and it would seem he hadn’t either. She could’ve sworn she saw a blush dust his cheeks as he gave her a much stiffer bow than usual before taking his leave.

~Aemond~

Aemond hated to admit just how worked up his accidental intrusion on Saesha had made him. He paced his chambers, unable to ready himself for the afternoon’s tourney. With a defeated groan, Aemond threw himself back on his bed, contemplating up at the canopy.

He desperately needed relief. Especially if he were to preform today.

Begrudgingly, he freed himself from his pants, giving his length a few testing strokes. Deciding that any release is better than none, Aemond made quick work if it. After he’d finished, he washed and dressed in his under clothes before summoning the squires to bring his armor.

+

The joust was the first event of the tourney, as was customary. Aemond mounted a black horse, settling into the saddle before a squire handed him his lance. He was to represent the King today, as Aegon would be far too busy drinking and laughing to participate.

A booming voice began to sound inside the arena. Aemond’s horse nickered, pawing at the ground. Aemond hushed the beast, stroking a hand along its neck.

“…And representing his majesty King Aegon Targaryen, comes Prince Aemond Targaryen!”

Aemond took his queue, giving his horse a small kick and galloping out onto the lists. Everyone gave him a cheer as he did a lap. In Aemond’s opinion, tourneys were a waste of time and money, but oh, how the masses seemed to eat it up.

After his lap, he brought his mount to a stop in front of the royal box, where his brother sat in a high, throne-like chair. To his right sat their mother, and to his left sat Saesha. Her long silver hair curled down her shoulders, the front of it braided into an elaborate knot at the back of her head. She wore a deep purple gown embroidered with twin black dragons on either breast.

Aemond nearly fell off his horse. Purple is her color, he thought, It belongs to her.

Aemond gave a polite bow of his head to the three of them. Otto sat behind them all, like the overlord he was.

“Princess,” he called up, suppressing a smirk at the title, “may I have the honor of bearing your favor today?” The crowd clapped in approval at the new Targaryen couple.

Saesha stood, revealing her gown in its entirety. It hugged her waist exquisitely, as everything seemed to, but Aemond decided then that this was certainly his favorite. She came to the stone railing, looking down to him with a smile. Aemond couldn’t help but return it genuinely.

He raised his lance, resting the end of it on the railing in front of her. She slipped a small wreath of dark purple flowers that matched her dress over his lance. “I wish you the best of luck today, my prince,” she replied politely. “Please see that you end the day safe.”

That last bit was not part of the customary response, and it warmed Aemond to think she cared for his safety. He gave Saesha a last long look before spurring his mount back to the lists.

+

Aemond either hit or unseated every knight he faced in the joust. All but Meryn Tyrell, who landed a harsh blow to Aemond’s shoulder twice, and was ultimately named the champion of the joust.

Next was ground combat, which Aemond was not soon to be bested at. He easily batted away every lord and knight who faced him, no matter the weapon they chose. Aemond was named champion of this event and all others.

At the end of the tourney, Aegon announced he’d be gifting Meryn Tyrell his choice from the Keep’s stables for being the only one to best his brother. Aemond clenched his jaw at the announcement, but smiled amiably anyway.

I don’t give a shit about tourneys, he reminded himself.

It was easier to remember that fact when he saw Saesha again, this time down by the lists waiting for him. Aemond excused himself from the lords congratulating him on his performance, making his way through the crowds to get to her.

She grinned at him. “Well well, princeling, I believe I must offer you congratulations.”

Aemond scoffed, rolling his eye, “Hardly. Most the participants are old men tired from war or green boys who’ve never smelled the battlefield.”

“Then consider my congratulations revoked,” she quipped.

He smiled down at her, her sharp lilac eyes on him. “You look quite beautiful today, dragonling,” Aemond said softly. “I do think that is my favorite gown of yours.”

She blushed despite herself. “You looked quite strapping yourself out there today, princeling.”

Gods, he wanted to kiss her, but there were too many lingering eyes here. Saesha’s eyes seemed to be screaming for the same thing.

“Would you visit me this evening?” She said, barely above a whisper. Aemond stilled, clenching his jaw.

“In your chambers, dragonling?”

Saesha failed to stifle a shiver, and Aemond felt his resolve reduce to a thread. Her face was close to his now, and he could have sworn she was standing on her toes under her skirt.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Aemond asked, swallowing hard.

Saesha shook her head, that wicked grin appearing on her face. “Will you come anyway?”

Aemond shook his head, laughing through his nose. “You will be the death of me, princess.”

Saesha’s eyes still held her question. Aemond hummed, clicking his tongue, “I shall think on it.”

He chuckled at her scoff as he turned from her, making his way for the tents.

~Saesha~

Saesha crossed her arms, watching Aemond stride away from her. For a moment, she had the impulse to follow him to his tent and make the decision hers.

I shall think on it.

He was teasing her. It was infuriating, and yet it made her core warm.

Saesha was inexperienced, despite her intentions. She had no interest in protecting her maidenhood—if anything she was bitter at the concept—but no one worth the effort ever seemed to present themself. Even if it wasn’t about purity, Saesha respected herself enough to wait for someone she at least desired.

She’d heard servants and ladies alike speak of some happenings in the marriage bed, but being Daemon Targaryen’s daughter, Saesha was never clueless. Much to her mother’s disdain, Daemon never really censored himself around Saesha or her siblings.

Saesha knew ways to rile Aemond, but couldn’t ignore the pull of nervousness in her gut. After all, knowing of and acting on were two enormously different things.

So, instead of chasing after her betrothed, Saesha turned to the main ring of large tents enclosed around hundreds of long tables. The sun was setting, the sky turning a deep red before settling in a deep purple that almost matched Saesha’s dress. Fire pits and torches made the circle glow bright, matching the boisterous laughing and chattering from all the lords and ladies in the city for the royal wedding.

Saesha would’ve preferred to return to her chambers now, but since this entire event was in hers and Aemond’s honor, she was obligated to attend. She walked down the long center row between tables, giving polite bows and smiles to those who cheered her and toasted to her. Finally, she made it to the head table, where Aegon sat with Alicent and Otto flanking either side. A few members of the counsel sat to Otto’s right, leaving the seats next to Alicent for Saesha and Aemond. The table was raised on a wooden platform, so Saesha held her skirts carefully as she made her way up the steps to sit beside Alicent.

The Queen Mother smiled warmly, patting Saesha’s hand as she sat. Food already decorated the table; a roast pig, bowls of candied peaches and apples, potatoes smothered in butter and herbs, and more wine than Saesha had ever seen in a place. She couldn’t deny her hunger, but instead of eating she found herself scanning the crowd for Aemond.

She wasn’t entirely sure what had shifted in her. Perhaps it was their first kiss, perhaps it was the fact that Aemond was undeniably a stunning and fascinating creature. Most likely it was Saesha’s ability to accept her fate, and let go of the guilt she didn’t deserve to feel. Plus, she’d always been drawn to Aemond more than his siblings…more than anyone really. But it was always wrong. He was the enemy. But now he was not.

Finally, that unmistakable platinum hair was coasting down the isle toward them. He was clean now, having washed the blood and dirt from himself and fixing his perfect hair. His armor was replaced by a well-fitting deep purple doublet, and his usual black leather pants and boots. The rough brown eyepatch he’d had on for the tourney was also replaced with a sleek black leather patch.

He bowed to Saesha as he approached, reaching his hand out for hers. She granted him her hand, which he brought gently to his lips. She smiled and Aemond sat.

They ate, casually talking with Alicent. Occasionally Aegon would butt in with some sort of obscene comment or gesture, which Saesha honestly found amusing more than anything. Otherwise, Saesha simply enjoyed sitting beside Aemond as they ate.

For the first time since the Dance broke out, Saesha didn’t feel alone. She nearly shuddered at the sudden thought, he gaze falling on Aemond. His blind eye was closest to her, so he didn’t catch her at first.

When he did he smiled, “Simply gazing at me, princess?”

She wrinkled her nose at him, looking back down at her plate. She stiffened when she felt Aemond’s large hand rest just above her knee. He smirked into his fork, using his free hand to eat. Saesha was gripping her own fork as Aemond’s hand drifted up, gripping her thigh in earnest. Her hot gaze was on him again, her eyes screaming at him to stop and at the same time never let go of her again.

Aemond hummed through a smile, pulling his hand away after giving the flesh a squeeze. He leaned down to her ear, “I’ve considered your offer, dragonling, and I will visit you at your request.”

His breath tickled the shell of her ear. Saesha swallowed thickly, her mouth suddenly dry.

“I intend to keep my promise, though,” he added. “I will not spoil you before we are wed.”

Saesha nodded slightly, attempting to focus on gathering a candied peach onto her fork. The bite never made it to her mouth. She stood, excusing herself, giving Alicent and Aegon a bow. Her eyes trailed Aemond as she walked past.

~Aemond~

Aemond watched Saesha go the whole way. He watched the way her curls waved down her back, the way her hips moved with every step, the way she walked with her head high even after everything.

He waited a respectable couple of minutes before excusing himself. Alicent gave him a disapproving look.

“I am going to be bed, mother.” He falsely assured her.

She gave him a curt nod, and he took his leave, striding back up the rows of tables and up into the castle. He went to his own rooms first, where the guards and servants could see him retiring. He poured himself a cup of wine, downing it in two gulps. With a deep breath, Aemond approached the wall beside his bed, giving it a push. The wall gave as the hidden door swung inward. He slipped through the entryway, closing the door behind him. He walked through the tunnels without a torch, following the wall with his hand.

He had been down here many times, and knew the way to the wing of the castle which Saesha lived. After a few minutes of darkness, Aemond came to a stop at the door he knew was hers, a thin line of candlelight flickering under it. He reached for the knob attached to the door, pulling it until the door released it’s seal. Saesha startled a little, sitting by the hearth that the door opened next to.

She had changed out of her purple dress, and now just wore a sheer white sleeping gown. Her hair was freed from its elaborate styling, and fell in thick waves over her shoulders. He pulled the hidden door shut behind him, taking a step toward her.

She rose, “I was expecting you at the front door.”

He chuckled. “Apologies for the surprise, princess.”

She was right in front of him in a second, hands pressed against his chest. Her eyes flickered from his lips back to his eye. He took her queue, feeling he owed her a little for earlier. Their lips met once again, and Aemond let himself sink into the feeling. He was slow about it, and Saesha didn’t seem to be protesting. She moaned softly into his lips, clearly trying to stifle her own sound. His palms moved to either side of her face, pulling her lips toward him.

She pulled away this time, breathless. Her lilac eyes had turned dark again. “Sit down,” she whispered, but her voice was firm. Aemond quirked an eyebrow.

“I told you, dragonling,” he warned, “I will not go any further.”

“Be quiet, Aemond and sit down.”

He sighed, dropping down into the other chair beside the fireplace. She walked toward him, and Aemond mindlessly reached his hand out to grab at her hip. She tutted, slowly sinking to her knees.

His eye watched her every move intently. She rested her hands on his knees before slowly snaking them up his thighs, just as he had at dinner.

“Saesha…” Aemond warned again, his breathing picking up at the sight of her.

“I do not wish to go all the way,” she said finally, looking up at him with devilish eyes. “I only wish to try something.”

Her hands rubbed up and down his legs, coaxing him. His eye fell shut for only a moment, and Saesha’s hand was over the bulge in his pants. His eye snapped open to see her watching him closely.

When he didn’t move to stop her, Saesha began unlacing his pants. It was like he couldn’t stop her, not that he truly wanted her to. When she reached inside and gripped the base of him, he drew in a sharp breath. He groaned, and in a final move of surrender reached into his own pants to free his hardened length.

A small gasp left Saesha’s lips, but she did not hesitate. She swatted his hand away and replaced it with her smaller one. She gave his dick a few testing pumps, paying close attention to the way his face scrunched up, his jaw finally loosening.

“I may need your guidance,” she whispered. He opened his eye, not even realizing he had closed it. She looked up at him for reassurance. He reached down, stroking her cheek and gave her a gentle nod.

She took a deep breath, continuing to pump him with delicious pressure. Aemond’s mouth fell open at the feeling of her lips enveloping his tip. Her tongue swirled around it, drawing a moan from his lips.

He reached down again, gathering her silver hair into his fist. She finally bobbed her head down, taking half of his length into her mouth. Aemond tensed, trying desperately to keep himself from ramming his hips upward.

She continued to bob her head up and down, licking at the vein on the underside of his cock. This earned her another deep groan from Aemond. He never knew such pleasure, not in any other encounter he’d had. She couldn’t even fit all of him in her mouth and still the warmth he got was maddening.

She began to try to go further, gagging a little around him. “Hollow your cheeks a little, dragonling,” he panted.

She obeyed, creating a little bit of suction, drawing her soft cheeks in around him. He gasped at the intense sensation, feeling the tension in his groin growing.

“Gods, you’re doing so well,” he groaned.

She moaned around him, and the vibrations were what finally sent him over. She continued to suck at him, pulling his cock into her mouth as far as she could get it. He spasmed as he came, accidentally pressing his hips up and further into her throat. She swallowed diligently, gently sucking on his tip as he came down, shuddering. He pulled her off of him by her hair when he couldn’t stand it any longer.

Aemond’s chest heaved as his grip loosened on her hair. Saesha wobbled a bit as she stood, trying to catch her own breath. She grinned down at him. He was surely in a state after that.

“Are you satisfied, my prince?” She asked, her voice seductive. Aemond could only find it in him to nod. He took another deep breath, standing back up to tower over her. “You’re a wicked thing,” he told her. He tucked himself back into his pants, Saesha having done a good enough job cleaning up the mess to allow him to do so.

He grabbed her at the base of the neck, pulling her lips up to meet his. “Shall I take care of you, dragonling?” He whispered in her ear, his lingering lust clouding him.

Saesha tsked. “Now now, princeling, we only have tomorrow to get through. I do believe I can keep my resolve.”

Aemond gritted his teeth. She had gotten him back ten fold over. He smashed his lips onto hers once more, swallowing her wicked grin.

“Alright then,” he held her close still, looking down at her with admiration, “I shall see you tomorrow then.”

“I won’t get to see you in the morning, will I?” She asked, her mischief leaving her.

Aemond brought his hand to cup her cheek. “Probably not. But I will see you at the end of the aisle. And then all the lords and ladies will leave and the fuss will be over. We can be left alone for a time.”

She smiled, resting her cheek against his chest. Aemond knew then the Gods had served him so much pain to make it all up with this. With her.

-

Enjoy the crumbs for now lol

Next chapter you shall eat

-TAGLIST-

@hopebaker @snh96 @kaelatargaryen

[thavampress]

@arcielee @em-writes-stuff-sometimes @ewanmitchellcrumbs @foxee-writes @valeskafics @womprat00 @mercurygray @pancake-stray-doggo @f4ll-for-you @aboutdragons @flowerpotmage

I made this for us feral kittens. Works with Daemon too. Sorry for those I forgot to tag.

[thavampress]

A Court of Flame

Aemond Targaryen x OC!femTargaryen

Masterlist

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Chapter Three

~Aemond~

Aegon sat across from Aemond, his feet up on the table between them. He swirled the goblet of wine he held, sniffing in discontent.

The room was quiet, as it was just Aemond and Aegon. They were in Aegon’s chambers, meeting as they’d grown accustomed too. A strange byproduct of the war was a reconciliation between Aemond and his older brother. After so much loss over something neither of them completely supported, they’d learned they shared a mutual understanding of one another.

Aemond nursed his own wine as Aegon drained a third cup. “What do you make of your betrothed?” Aegon asked. “She has grown quite attractive, has she not?”

Aemond laughed through his nose. “She is quite something.”

“Oh please, I am sure you look forward to your wedding night,” Aegon chuckled, pouring himself another cup.

“Tsk tsk, brother,” Aemond replied, taking a deep drink for himself. “She has a certain fire about her, I suppose.”

“Well that’s very Targaryen of her.”

“I find myself strangely…drawn to her,” Aemond said hesitantly. “Not just in wanting to bed her. I feel we are the same, in a way.”

“Very poetic as usual, brother,” Aegon smiled, reaching across the table to snatch a grape of out a bowl between them.

Aemond hummed. “She said she would not hold her brother’s death against me.”

“Well, your future wife is very forgiving then,” Aegon replied.

“No, not forgiving,” Aemond corrected. “Something else entirely.”

“Like what?” Aegon asked, popping another grape in his mouth.

“That,” Aemond said, reaching for the wine pitcher to refill his own goblet, “remains to be seen, dear brother.”

“Are you looking forward to your party?” Aegon was mocking now, knowing full well Aemond preferred to avoid feasts and fancy where he could.

Aemond rolled his eye in response. “I only hope it improves everyone’s shit mood.”

“I for one, shall indeed enjoy the festivities all in your honor,” Aegon said, lifting his cup. “For there’s no better place for a drink and a fuck than a feast.”

“You may wish to consider sobering up then, brother,” Aemond suggested, standing from the table. “Your big moment in is less than eight hours.”

Aemond left his goblet half full on the table, taking his leave of Aegon’s chambers.

~Saesha~

Saesha awoke that morning with dread pooling in her stomach. She had loathed feasts and parties when her own family hosted them, let alone the snakes of the Red Keep.

This evening’s event was the first of the three-night celebrations leading up to her wedding to Aemond. She could hardly believe that it was actually happening. But something had shifted, she could tell. Ever since Aemond’s appearance in her chambers, she noticed him lingering.

Whenever she was with Alicent putting anything together for the wedding, he’d suddenly appear to check on his mother. When she sat with some ladies in the garden yesterday afternoon (not by choice, but in decorum), Aemond happened to be taking a stroll himself.

She even caught him looking at her differently. His air of disinterest seemed to have holes poked in it. His gaze was too intent. She found herself drawn to Aemond as well, and even though she swore not to feel guilty for the marriage she’d been shoved into, she couldn’t help but feel wrong for it.

Saesha opted to stay in bed that morning. When the servants came in to bathe and dress her she groaned, burying her face in the pillows.

“Princess, you must bathe,” one servant pleaded. “We will need sufficient time to prepare you for this evening.”

“Hours to twist my hair into knots, you mean?” Saesha replied, sitting up in bed with a huff. She didn’t mean to be so snippy, but there was something about being forced to attend this feast like prized horse that made the all-to-familiar anger bubble under her skin.

Alicent had been nice enough, but Saesha wasn’t quick to forget, and she certainly wasn’t handing out forgiveness.

After a bit more gentle encouraging, the servants finally got her into the hot bath tub, steaming with oils of mint and lemon. Saesha sighed as she sank into the tub, the hot water spreading chill bumps over skin. One of the servants washed her long silver hair until it shone like metal and smelled like fresh mint leaves. Saesha liked the cool scent, for some reason it reminded her of Dragonstone.

When she was scrubbed clean, the servants dried her and dressed her in a flowing silk robe that was a deep red. It was a beautiful thing, she had to admit. She sat at her vanity once again as the maids braided her hair into an elaborate net that seemed to cover the back of her head. The rest of her hair hung in loose curls down her shoulders.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen,” the guard at the door announced suddenly.

Aemond strode in, a long box in his hands. He bowed, and Saesha rolled her eyes. “I bring a gift,” he said.

“Leave us,” Saesha sighed. The staff shuffled out quickly.

Aemond set the box down on the little circular table beside him. “So sorry to bother, princess,” he said sarcastically.

“What it is?” Saesha asked, ignoring him and instead focusing on the box.

“Open it,” he said, smiling. “Though if I’m honest, I cannot take credit. It is truly from my mother.”

Saesha stood from the vanity and crossed the room to the table and Aemond standing beside it. She did her very best to seem entirely interested in the box.

She refused to be guilty, but she also refused to give him the satisfaction.

Saesha plucked the lid from the box, revealing a folded up gown in the most stunning, deep emerald green. She hesitated before lifting it out. It had beading along the bodice that almost looked like flames licking up the dress.

“It is beautiful,” she commented softly. When she looked up at Aemond, she caught him taking in the red silk robe she was wearing.

“Indeed,” Aemond said, forcing himself to look at the dress in her hands. “My mother thought you could wear it in honor of my dearly departed sister.”

Ah, yes, Saesha remembered. Her parents had launched a plot to murder Aegon’s children in retribution for Lucerys’ death. Aemond’s sister, Helaena, had thrown herself from the highest tower of the Keep as a result of the loss of her children.

Saesha clenched her jaw. “Why would she want me to honor her, of all people?”

Aemond’s face was hard now. “I do not know.”

There was a moment of stillness, and Aemond did not look away from her.

“It is a lovely gown,” Saesha said finally. “And I am sorry, for what happened to your sister. It was not right.”

Aemond did not respond, but his features softened a bit.

“Why did you bring it to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you bring me the dress? Why not have a servant bring it?” Saesha asked, laying the dress back in the box.

Aemond pondered, that familiar hum resonating from him. “I suppose I wished to see you before the feast tonight,” he answered. “I am not completely sure why.”

Saesha had to smile. “Well I am glad you came. I suppose I should wish you good luck.”

“And to you, princess,” Aemond said with a bow of his head. He turned to leave then.

“Aemond,” Saesha called, halting him at the door, “perhaps we can meet in the training yard tomorrow morning? I promise no hidden daggers.”

“You wish to train with me again?” He seemed incredulous.

“As I said, why should I have to be miserable? Why should either of us? We are to be married in three days, I ought to be able to manage a sparring session.”

“Deal, princess,” he said, a handsome smirk arching his lips. “Though I will fetch you from your chambers, like a damned gentleman.”

She laughed as he exited with a dramatic slam of her door.

+

Saesha stood outside of the throne room doors, flanked by kingsguard. Her emerald gown fit her perfectly, and was modest enough for Alicent’s taste. She fussed with the sleeve, rich lace flowing down her arms. She could hear the commotion of the crowd inside. She knew Aemond was already seated at the head table, all them were. She was to enter last, to be presented to the court officially as Aemond’s betrothed.

Finally, three loud booms thumped from inside, and she heard Aegon addressing the crowd.

“I am happy to present…” The heavy doors open, and every noble eye is upon her. “…Princess Saesha Targaryen, true born daughter to Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen.”

Aemond stood beside his brother at the head table.

“Let us toast to my brothers soon to be bride, and finally uniting House Targaryen after so much strife.”

The room erupting into a cheer, everyone raising their cups to her and the King. Saesha was honestly impressed that Aegon made the speech. He was generally disinterested in any kingly act outside of drinking and fucking whatever he pleased with impunity. Perhaps he did it for his brother.

Aemond smiled down at her as she approached the table, admiring her pretty green dress. He walked around it, meeting her at the bottom of the stone steps leading up to the throne. He took her hand and lead her back to their seats, as was customary.

Aegon leaned forward, capturing both her and Aemond’s attention once they were both seated. “Do I have permission to enjoy myself now, brother?”

Aemond scoffed, “You are the king.”

Aegon grinned, standing from his seat again. He raised his goblet, “To my brother, you bastard. And to Saesha, his lovely bride, perhaps you could bring him some joy. Though what he could truly use is thorough fuck-“

“Thank you for the sentiments, Aegon,” Aemond interrupted.

Aegon only laughed, trotting down the steps and disappearing into the crowd occupying the dance floor. Aemond rolled his eye with a chuckle, taking a deep drunk from his cup.

Saesha filled her own goblet. Aemond eyed her with a slight smile.

“Are you accustomed to drinking, princess?” He asked.

She rolled her violet eyes, lifting her cup to her lips and tipping it back slowing, gulping down the entirety of it. She set the goblet down firmly in front of her, licking her lips before grinning up at Aemond.

“It’s our feast, princeling,” she announced, reaching for the pitcher to refill her cup, “we must celebrate as adequately as everyone else.”

~Aemond~

Aemond stared at her, smiling. Truly smiling. He felt a slight buzz from the wine he’d had prior to the feast, on top of the cup he’d consumed at the table.

Saesha Targaryen was a vision tonight. Her dress left all to the imagination, as his mother ensured, yet it still accentuated everything perfectly. Her silver hair was braided elegantly in their ancestral fashion. She was a worthy bride, and Aemond felt grateful for that. Everyone else ranked beneath her.

He watched her take another deep drink of wine as a tiny droplet escaped the corner of her mouth. Aemond found himself fight the urge to swipe it away. Saesha reached a ring-clad hand up, wiping it away herself with her middle finger.

“Pardon me,” she smiled.

Aemond found suddenly that the wine was going to his head, because he felt urged to lean down and kiss her. He didn’t think she’d appreciate that very much. Though she had teased him that day in her chambers, and she’d been consistent in saying she planned on attempting to enjoy their marriage.

Without really knowing what he was doing, Aemond stood. Saesha gazed up at him, eyebrows raised in surprise as Aemond held out his hand.

“Dance with me, princess.”

She grinned, taking another swig from her cup and taking him firmly by the hand. Some of guests clapped as the walked onto the dance floor. Saesha ignored them, he noticed, only ever looking right at him.

The musicians started an upbeat song, and the line of lords and ladies ensued in a dance. Aemond watched her as they stepped forward and spun and did it again. On the third turn, Aemond saw that wicked grin appear on her face. Her steps became more bouncy, until she was jumping around in circles, dramatically motioning the steps of the dance.

Aemond couldn’t help but laugh. She took both his hands then, and began spinning them both around. She looked utterly free—face flushed and cracked with a genuine smile.

They halted with the song, and Aemond noticed some of the court eyeing them with questioning glares. He couldn’t care less. Even before the Dance, he never concerned himself with the chatters and opinions of the castle—or otherwise.

The crowd resumed around them as another tune began. Saesha led the way back toward the table. It was empty now.

“Do you want to eat?” Aemond asked.

She shook her head.

“You really should eat, princess.”

“Oh would you stop calling me princess,” she sighed, suddenly very close to him.

“You should eat something so you’re not ill on the morrow, Saesha,” he corrected.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes. Her eyes were red and glassy from the wine.

“I think I’d like to leave,” she said in quiet Valyrian.

“Where would you like to be instead?” He replied in the same tongue.

She was quiet for a moment, thinking.

“Somewhere quiet,” she decided.

Aemond scanned the room, looking for his mother. He didn’t find her. Otto Hightower stood at the far end of the room observing the dance floor while speaking to some Lord Lannister.

He took her by the arm, leading her up the stairs to the throne, passing the mass of swords and out the door looming behind it. It was immediately dark, and so much quieter. He let go if her arm, but quickly felt her hand grabbing at his. He smiled to himself in the darkness.

He led the way until they came out the other end and into torch light. The corridor that stretched to either side of them was empty, and a wide balcony overlooking the sea was in front of them. Saesha took the lead now, walking out into the moonlight. Aemond followed.

She took a deep breath, pointing her face to the sky with her eyes gently closed.

Ethereal.

Aemond didn’t know what was happening to him. Never had he been so captured by any woman, never had he been so distracted. It felt strange the she was truly to be his wife.

“How do you really feel about all this?” Aemond blurted.

She opened her eyes, looking at him with a hint of curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” he replied. “How does it make you feel to be marrying me in two days? To live here in King’s Landing?”

She looked out at the dark sea, shrugging. “I suppose I feel indifferent, now. I used to be very angry, but it’s exhausting to be so angry all the time.”

“Do you miss Dragonstone?” He ventured a bit further.

She nodded, a sad smile on her lips. “I do. I enjoyed flying over those bluffs. I like the castle as well, and the land was good for exploring.”

There was a comfortable pause, the distant sound of waves crashing far below. “We could go and be at Dragonstone, if that’s what you wanted? There’s no one there to claim it, and it’s ours—yours by right. I’m the second-son, there’s no reason to stay.”

He didn’t really know why he was offering this. Aemond didn’t want to live at Dragonstone, he’d prefer to remain in King’s Landing with remnants of his family. But maybe it would make Saesha happy. It’s not like he couldn’t just fly back if he needed to.

Saesha looked at him with what looked like genuine endearment. Her eyes were glossy and she held her clasped hands up to her chest. She took a few steps forward, closing the gap between them.

Aemond breathed slowly, trying to remain calm at their sudden proximity. She gazed up at him, and Aemond felt the last bits of his restraint beginning to tear. Much to his relief—and enormous surprise—it was Saesha who leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

Her lips were as soft as he’d anticipated, and the way they moved against his had him suppressing a growl. He cupped her cheeks with both hands, angling her face toward his. She sighed happily into his mouth, standing on her tip-toes in an attempt to deepen the kiss. Aemond gave in only for a moment, indulging himself, before forcing himself to pull away.

Her lips were swollen, and her face was flushed. She looked up at him with confusion, and a little bit of disappointment. “I shall wait to explore you until after our wedding,” he said.

Saesha groaned, rolling her pretty violet eyes. “You seriously want to be traditional? After everything that led us here?”

“If you think about it,” he said, smirking, “we’re being about as traditional as we could get. We’re marrying each other in the custom of our House, and in a more Westerosi manner, we’ve been arranged together for political gain.”

Saesha’s annoyance cracked with a smile. They remained on the balcony for a long while, talking, catching up, learning what the war had made of each other.

Aemond walked her to her chambers, bidding her a good night before retiring himself. He went to bed that night relieved, and feeling capable handling tomorrows tourney.

-TAGLIST-

@hopebaker

@snh96

@kaelatargaryen

[thavampress]

Finally, a Masterlist

A Court of Flame

Aemond x OC!Targaryen (post-dance, angst, smut, plot)

-ongoing-

The Dance of Dragons has finally met its bitter end, and left Saesha Targaryen, daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen, without her entire family. In a last ditch effort to put the war to bed for good and unite a broken realm, the victorious Greens seal a marriage pact between the last survivor of the Blacks, and the notorious second son, Aemond Targaryen.

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five

[thavampress]

“The rats play when the cat is gone, but my son Aemond will return with fire and blood.”

[thavampress]

A Court of Flame

(our series has a title)

Aemond Targaryen x OC!femTargaryen

Masterlist

Chapter Two

~Saesha~

Saesha could not sleep. She couldn't seem to shake the heat from her skin. Finally, she ripped the covers back, making for the balcony. The white slip she wore was so sheer the moonlight exposed her, yet still she boiled.

It was anger. It rose like this, every now and again. Hot and unshakeable. She wasn't really sure what she was angry at specifically, or who.

To start, she was angry with the people around her in the Keep. She hated the way chittered about nothing, the way they gorged themselves on the castle's wine and food. Privileged.

The war caused them no real pain, no real loss.

Saesha resented them for it.

Second, she burned to take Otto Hightower's head from his shoulders. The very thought of his smug smile drove her to a rage.

Saesha found the balcony was little help. She needed open air and sky. She quickly clasped a coat over her slip and pulled on her boots. She made her way through the empty castle with ease, her steps barely making a sound against the stone.

She had refused to have Vermithor put in the Dragonpit and possibly withheld from her, so she made her way around to the other side of the castle, toward the Blackwater Rush. She cleared the Keep and walked along the raging dark river until the area around it cleared. She was close to the bay now. Vermithor's shadow circled overhead before sweeping down over her. He set down with a few gentle clicks.

Saesha ran a hand over his neck as he craned down. She climbed his wing to his shoulder, mounting him at last. Saesha Targaryen opted not to use a saddle. She gripped the protruding spikes on Verminthor's back, and commanded him to fly in their mother tongue.

The Bronze Fury took off with three heavy flaps of his great wings, sending a brief windstorm down below. Saesha audibly sighed as they rose into the sky. She circled the Red Keep twice before making out toward the sea. She closed her eyes, leaning back a bit to let the wind really catch her hair. She banked back over the city, flying low over the copper rooftops. Even at this hour the city was alive. Torches blazed on every street, and Saesha could make out the little dots of people still swarming the streets. Little more than ants from here.

Saesha thanked whatever gods there were for giving those of her blood dragons, for she could not imagine a life trapped on the ground.

As if whichever gods heard her, a larger shadow joined her in the midnight sky. The beast flew overhead and Vermithor pulled down with an uneasy rumble in his chest.

"Lykiri, Vermithor," Saesha cooed, trying to calm her own sudden nerves as much as her dragon's.

Vhagar roared, turning away from them. Saesha pulled back toward the sea, bringing Vermithor lower. She glanced over her shoulder, peering into the dark for Vhagar's massive shape, but she was gone.

He was gone.

She brought Vermithor down on a wide, unoccupied beach a little ways south of the city walls. She patted him hard where she sat, whispering more Valyrian encouragements. She slid from his back, her boots landing hard in the sand.

She listened. Waves lapped on the shore, a breeze rustled through nearby bushes. Vermithor growled again, and Saesha heard it, exactly what she'd been listening for; wings.

Massive wingbeats came down upon them as Vhagar landed on the opposite side of the beach. Saesha was tense, and suddenly very aware of the fact that she was unarmed, and half naked.

Aemond's unmistakable form climbed from Vhagar's back before turning to march down the beach toward her. He stopped about ten paces from her as Vermithor lifted his massive head and brought it over her, curling his lips back.

Aemond only smiled. "Curious time to be riding, niece."

"Is it?" She replied, cocking her head. "And what exactly are you up to?"

"I could not seem to rest," Aemond said as though it were her fault. Oh how she hoped it had been her fault.

It was her turn to smile, "I could not sleep myself, dear uncle."

Aemond narrowed his eye at her. What was he thinking?

The wind gusted again, and the bottom of Saesha's coat parted to reveal her thin white slip underneath. She shivered and watched distinctly has Aemond's lilac eye darted to her thighs, barely covered, before raking up to her face.

Saesha clenched her jaw hard to not shiver again.

"I should escort you back, princess," he said much softer now.

She only stared back at him, at the enormous beast behind him. The dragon that ate her brother. Suddenly the air in her lungs felt heavy, and her mind clouded. It felt like the entire war was back, crashing over her head like cold water.

She was paralyzed, while Aemond Targaryen watched.

~Aemond~

She stood, arms crossed, big violet eyes locked on Vhagar behind him. Aemond could not read the look on her face.

"Princess?" He asked, taking a step forward. Vermithor grumbled again. Aemond ignored him, taking another step. "Saesha?"

Her eyes snapped to him. "Why did you do it?"

Aemond clenched his jaw. He knew what she meant, but he asked anyway, “You’re going to have to be more specific, Princess.”

“Why did you kill Lucerys that night?”

"I fear you will not quite believe me, Princess" He replied.

She shook her head. "Try me. And stop fucking calling me princess.”

Gods, it was a challenge. She was undeniable, and that fire had returned to blaze in her eyes. Aemond was ashamed at the giddy feeling it gave him. All his life it felt like Aemond was surrounded by snakes, not dragons. Aegon was a drunken fool, his grand sire the Hand was a conspirator and a liar, even his own mother seemed to slither through the Red Keep, ever at her own father’s side.

Saesha was a Targaryen, through and through. A dragon of Old Valyria. He wanted her, he realized suddenly.

“At Storm’s End, Lucerys’ arrival took me by surprise,” Aemond began, “It angered me, to see him flying about trying so blatantly to win the support of the great houses to Rhaenyra’s side. I suppose I was more angry at your mother than anything. Everything that had ever happened, the taunting, my eye, it rose out of me all at once. We had a verbal altercation, I demanded he give me his own eye, and Borros Baratheon commanded us to to leave his hall. I couldn’t help myself, the rage was so thick. I mounted Vhagar and went after Lucerys on dragonback.”

Saesha watched him, eyes glistening with tears, but her face was hard as stone.

“I only wanted to scare him,” Aemond said quietly. “I never intended… Arrax attacked Vhagar. I’m sure he was only afraid, but Vhagar takes no small offense. She pursued him, denying my every command. I could not stop it.”

The beach was so still for a moment. Even the ocean seemed to still at his words. Aemond waited.

“I believe you,” she said at last. It was the last thing he had expected to hear. “Somehow, I do. It’s like I can tell.”

Aemond was relieved. Saesha was to be his wife, and the last thing he truly wanted was to spend his life with someone who resented him and believed him a cowardly liar. He never used to care, especially once the war was done. He had known once Rhaenyra was finally dead that he would be betrothed to Saesha, it was all part of Alicent’s larger plan.

But standing before her now, both their scars bare for each to see, he realized he wished to give her some peace. She deserved that much.

“I am happy to hear it,” he mustered.

Her eyes were still so sharp, “I do not forgive you. I do not think I will ever forgive you. What you did was the act of scorned child, and my brother lost his life for it.”

“I was a child, you are right, but any child in me was killed during the Dance,” Aemond defended.

“As was mine,” she replied, turning from him to approach Vermithor. She stopped, turning back to face Aemond.

“I understand that rage, Aemond, better than most. I suggest for both our sakes we do not tempt it from each other.”

She mounted Vermithor and took to the skies, soaring back toward the Keep. Aemond remained on the beach for awhile, staring out at the moonlit sea.

For the first time in a long time, Aemond Targaryen felt fear, for he felt himself hoping.

~Saesha~

Saesha had done a fine job at avoiding Aemond in the Keep. She had learned his schedule, his habits, over the last week. She’d take different corridors to avoid the ones he frequented, and would hide in her chambers when he wasn’t tied up in a council meeting or in the yard.

All of this felt a little futile as throughout the same week of avoiding Aemond, Saesha was being fitted into wedding gowns and subjected to countless flower arrangements and food samples.

Alicent was surprisingly warm to her throughout the process. She wanted to let Saesha choose as much as she could to make the celebrations more to her liking. The festivities were set to last three days. The union of the House Targaryen after a brutal year of war was a turning point for all of Westeros, and the people were long overdue for something to celebrate. Aemond and Saesha's wedding was the symbol of peace at last, and it seemed to make Saesha ill to think about.

Alicent sat in Saesha's chambers as two maids draped elaborately jeweled necklaces around her neck.

"The pearl matches your hair beautifully, princess," one maid remarked as the other held a pearl laced collar around her neck, at the center an enormous ruby dangled down her chest.

"It is quite exquisite," a deeper voice called from behind them.

Saesha caught his reflection in the mirror, the glint of amusement in his eye.

"Aemond," Alicent scolded, "what if she had her dress on? You could've spoiled it."

Aemond shook his head with smile playing on his lips, crossing the room and taking a seat in one of the velvet chairs just behind where they all sat at Saesha's vanity. "Hardly, mother," Aemond assured. "Saesha isn't much for tradition."

Saesha scoffed. "You would know?"

"I can tell these things."

She hadn't turned to him yet, gazing instead through the mirror at him. He looked comfortable, she noted. His posture was straight as always, but the way he crossed his leg in the chair, and gently circled his fingertips together made him seem at ease.

Alicent stood, breaking the pause. "Why don't we be done for now?"

The maids bowed, collecting the boxes of necklaces and taking their leave. Alicent squeezed Saesha's hand as she passed.

The room was quiet when the heavy doors thudded closed behind her. Saesha sat still at the vanity, staring at Aemond through the mirror.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"I missed you," he grinned.

Cheeky.

He sighed. "I suppose I wished to... feel you out after our last encounter."

For reasons she couldn't explain, Saesha fought a deep shiver.

"What is there to feel, my prince?" She turned to face him at last, realizing begrudgingly that she relished in baiting him back.

He was smirking that particularly Aemond smirk at her. "I do not wish to enter this marriage with resentment and awkwardness between us. I came to ensure we had made amends."

"You mean for killing my brother?"

Aemond clenched his jaw. "Indeed."

"As I said, I cannot forgive you," she began, "but I will not spend our marriage cold and resentful toward you."

Aemond Targaryen had the audacity to smile. It was a real smile, she realized.

"Do not flatter yourself," she said, standing from her place at the vanity and slowing stepping toward him, "I am not doing it for you."

Aemond gazed up at her, now standing above him with the light from the windows glowing behind her. "Then who for?"

"For me, you idiot," she whispered, leaning down to rest both hands on his knees, now uncrossed before her. Her face was inches from his as she continued, inching her lips closer to his with each word. "I have suffered enough, and it is my own family's actions just as much as yours that led me here. Why should I have to live bitter and cold? Why shouldn't I enjoy what has been given to me?"

Aemond was leaning up to meet her. She grinned, standing back up in a flash. Aemond looked flushed, leaning back in the chair beneath her.

"So no, princeling," she cooed, sitting back down at the vanity, "there shall be no awkwardness between us, I assure you."

-TAG LIST-

@hopebaker

@snh96

I am super new at Tumblr, so I am learning as I go. Let me know if you want to be tagged in the future! Mastlist to come.

[thavampress]

the targs are way more interesting when you don’t view them like they’re MCU characters and instead as a family doomed to relive the lives of three people (visenya, aegon and rhaenys) forever because they have escaped their deaths they should have had during the doom

[thavampress]

[thavampress]

To me that’s cinema 🤌