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ladyoftheblades · 21 days

Note

Would you plssss write something about dom Jace but also dom reader?? Even if she’s one of slocents daughters and comes to dragon stone as she believes Rhanerya to be the true queen so she’s being held prisoner atm while they decide her fate. Her and Jace have always had a thing for eachother but he’s so angry about being left in the dark and he takes it out on her (respectfully). Like they have that hot intense sex ??? Maybe they’re arguing before so it’s a bit of enemies to lovers?? I just need some rougher sex with Jace!! He was looking too good this season and the way he was quite sassy and strong willed was so fucking hot

this is so hot?????? girl i don’t get nearly enough jace requests

loyal | jacaerys velaryon

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

warnings: dacryphilia, smut (MDNI 18+), rough sex

────── ☾ ──────

It started when you were children. Your brothers, Aegon and Aemond, often teased Jacaerys and Lucerys for their dark hair. In return, Lucerys tormented Aemond about the eye he had cost him. There was always tension, and always an unspoken competition of which line was the legitimate succession to the Iron Throne.

Your sister, Heleana, stayed out of the fighting. You oftentimes tried to stick by her side, both desperate to avoid the fighting, as did Jacaerys. Despite the hostility between your family members, you and Jacaerys always tried to get along.

As he grew up, he began to come into his own, but was still very much second to his mother. He became more and more handsome as he aged. You were nearly the same age, so you had the privilege of watching him grow, and he had the same for you.

Your mother vied for your brother, Aegon, to succeed your father, Viserys I. Rhaenyra, Jace’s mother and the daughter of Viserys, maintained her claim. When Viserys passed, your mother placed Aegon on the throne, and Rhaenyra took residence in Dragonstone with her children.

Your mother preached the importance of the family sticking together in support of Aegon, but in truth, you knew she was delusional. Viserys never faltered on his decision to have Rhaenyra succeed him, and Aegon was unfit to rule. Your mother had a subconscious belief that if she assisted in upholding the patriarchy, it would in turn reward her. You knew that so long as she was a woman, it wouldn’t.

Rhaenyra, however, was Viserys’s first born and the rightful heir to the throne. She was level-headed and peaceful, like her father, and you knew in your heart that she was the true queen.

So you left King’s Landing.

There was nothing for you there. You seldom got along with your family, and even Heleana was preoccupied with Aegon and their children. The only member of your family you truly cared for was Jacaerys. You wanted to be on the right side of history, and that meant standing behind Rhaenyra in this baseless war.

Jacaerys, however, remained perpetually angry with you. He expected you to make your allegiance to Rhaenyra known the moment Aegon was put on the throne. He assumed you stood with Aegon when you didn’t, and thought you were therefore against him and his mother, and he was hurt and angered by that belief.

In the earliest hours of the morning, you mounted your dragon, departing your childhood home before your mother could awaken and attempt to stop you.

You arrived in Dragonstone shortly after, and were met with members of the King’s Guard, led by Daemon, as you arrived.

“Bold move, arriving on dragonback unannounced,” Daemon spoke as you jumped off the saddle, “I could have killed you and your dragon before anyone else caught sight of you.”

“Ah, but you didn’t, Uncle,” you responded, pushing your wind-swept hair out of your face.

“What are you doing here?” he cut to the point.

“I am not here as a threat,” you started, “I am here in support of your wife and her cause.”

“And I am to simply believe you?”

“I would expect nothing but suspicion from the likes of you,” you said, an amused smile on your face, “but I do not lie, Uncle. I want no part of the claims my mother or my brother make. Why else would I have come here so suddenly?”

Daemon sighed and inspected your face for a moment, deciding whether or not he trusted you. He always suspected the worst, and thought it better to be safe than sorry. He tilted his head toward the men of the guard, shouting, “keep her in the dungeons for now. Your Queen can decide her fate.”

“Daemon-“ you began to protest, but you were being dragged away within moments. You called back, “you cannot honestly hold me prisoner as punishment for my lineage?”

Daemon called back, “yes I can, niece. I do not trust you yet.”

────── ☾ ──────

The Black Council gathered at the usual time, everyone taking their typical seats, Jacaerys remaining standing opposite his mother across the table.

They began to discuss matters of politics and war, when Daemon chimed in, “We also must discuss the matter of my niece.”

Jacaerys furrowed his brows in confusion.

“She did come here of her own volition, to her credit,” Rhaenyra said, “but you are right, we cannot be sure we can trust her.”

This discussion had clearly started previously, and without Jacaerys present.

Daemon adjusted in his chair, getting comfortable. “I had the guards take her to the dungeons for the time being, but Y/N can be very stubborn, and will not accept staying in there long. We must act quickly if this is disingenuous. It may be an infiltration from the Greens.”

“Yes, well, now that she is already here, we-“

“What do you mean Y/N is here?” Jacaerys nearly spit out, pressing his palms to the table in front of him, leaning toward Daemon, who was nonchalantly sat in his usual council seat.

“She arrived yesterday morn,” Daemon spoke casually, not confused by Jacaerys’s frustration, but simply not caring about it, “your mother was out.”

Rhaenyra began to respond, “I must speak to her before taking any action, to determine if her loyalties truly lie with-“

“She has been here for nearly two whole days and I was not informed?” Jacaerys cut her off.

Daemon lifted his head, “why would you need to be informed, Jacaerys?”

Jacaerys let out a huff of frustration. “I am as much a part of this council as you.” He was also frustrated because it was you, and he wished he knew the moment you arrived, but he could not let Daemon know that.

“I am the King Consort, you forget yourself. I have no obligations to brief you on matters that I do not see fit.”

Jacaerys slammed hit hands on the table. “I am the heir to the Iron Throne, Daemon. I expect to be treated as if all matters that pertain to my mother, pertain to me as well, because they do.”

“Jacaerys-“ Rhaenyra tried to catch his attention, but instead he diverted his frustrations to her.

“And where were you? She has been kept prisoner for nearly two days due to your absence.”

“Mind your tongue,” Daemon warned.

Rhaenyra’s eyes remained focused on Jacaerys. “I had other matters to attend to.”

“And yet again you leave me in the dark, as you both did regarding Y/N.”

“It is never my intent to insult you, Jace,” Rhaenyra said.

Jacaerys pushed himself off of the table, pacing back and forth for a moment. “Let me speak to her.”

“Who, Y/N?” Daemon asked, laughing at the thought.

“Let me handle it,” Jacaerys pleaded, ignoring Daemon as he looked to his mother for approval. His voice and posture were confident, but his eyes were desperate. All he wanted was to be involved.

“Fine,” Rhaenyra waved a hand, “you may handle it, but only because she is most likely to be truthful with you out of all of us.”

Jacaerys stood up straight, taking a deep breath and resetting his confidence. He gave his mother a nod, turning around and retreating toward the dungeons, a guard in tow.

When he arrived in front of your cell, you turned around to face him, almost shocked by the sight of him. He had grown exponentially since you last saw him, and his dark hair was now long and curly, framing his face perfectly.

“Unlock it,” Jacaerys commanded the guard, who unlocked and cracked open the door to your cell.

Jacaerys stepped into the cell, hands over the hilt of his sword as he faced you. “Now leave us.”

The guard coughed, “My Prince, I-“

“I said leave us,” he said again, his voice heavier and more demanding the second time around.

The guard stepped away, nervously dropping the key to the cell door on the ground before he quickly retreated up the steps, leaving you alone with Jacaerys.

Jacaerys was clearly frustrated, and it had been a long time since you’d seen one another. You were unsure of what to say.

“What are you doing here?” Jacaerys said, his nostrils flaring as he focused on standing tall.

“As I told my brother, I am here to support you and your family,” you stated.

“Why am I to believe you?” Jacaerys questioned, “why come now? You did not think it important to decide where your loyalties lie when your mother forced a drunken usurper on the throne?”

You did not expect such hostility from him. You imagined what your meeting would be like, and this was not it. “I admit, I did not have the will to leave until recently.”

“And why is that?” he pressed. Was he mad at you? Was he hurt?

“I did not think myself strong enough, but I am growing rather tired of being weak.”

Jacaerys nodded a few times to himself, stepping closer to you. He went to open his mouth three times to speak, but could find no words to say each time.

You decided to break the silence, asking the question you thought stupid to ask, but you couldn’t help it. “You did not wish to see me until now?”

Jacaerys met your gaze for a moment before responding. “I was not aware you were here until mere minutes ago.”

You shifted your stance as you looked at him in confusion. “But I have been here for nearly two days.”

“My mother enjoys keeping me in the dark,” he explained, “I believe she assumes she is prioritizing my safety. Instead, she is simply underutilizing my talents.”

You sighed. “Do you perhaps trust me enough to let me take leave from this cell?”

“No.”

“But-“

Jace was frustrated by how long it took you to decide to back the Blacks, and was also no longer able to hold back his pent up frustration from his mother always leaving him in the dark and refusing to let him be proactive.

“You took forever, did you know that? This entire time, it’s been the same two sides. You are a big girl now, you’ve been more than capable of choosing a side,” he was nearly shouting now, “and instead you chose to stay with the Dowager Queen and her usurper son!”

“What did you expect of me?” you retorted, voice raised as well, “I left behind my life when I left King’s Landing! All to support what I believe is right! And yet you stand here to what, accuse me of being untruthful? Is that what you think of me, that I am simply here to act as an inconspicuous threat?”

Jacaerys stepped closer to you, his torso nearly hitting yours. He was seething in anger. “If you were truly on my side, you should have come here the second that crown touched Aegon’s head.”

“Who are you truly mad at Jace, hm? Are you truly upset with me, or are you upset your mommy won’t let you play Prince?” you snapped back, fed up with his attitude.

“How fucking dare you speak to me like that,” he spat, “if you truly accepted my mother as your queen, you would know to mind your tongue around the Crown Prince.”

“I will, when the Crown Prince is not being such a prick.”

Jacaerys inhaled a sharp breath, his face turning red from all the pent up anger and frustration he was eager to release. He was speechless, unable to think of a clever enough comeback.

“You’ve found your voice in my absence, haven’t you, Jace?” you asked, your faces mere inches from one another. Your voice was low, almost sultry, and your tone, combined with the close proximity of your bodies, was doing something to Jace.

He felt his cock twitch in his breeches, gazing down at you.

“You wanna prove to me your loyalty, is that it?” Jacaerys asked.

“Whatever it will take for you to believe me,” you responded.

“Bend the knee.”

“Alright” you agreed, “let me out of this cell, and once you take me to your mother I-“

“To me, Y/N. Bend the knee to me.”

You looked deep into his eyes. You could see he was frustrated, both generally and sexually. You two had always liked one another, and not seeing each other for much too long only enhanced the feelings, especially now that you were both grown up.

You never broke eye contact as you slowly sank down onto your knees, both hitting the floor gently as you gazed up at him, your head only a few inches from his most sensitive area.

The sight of you on your knees in front of him was awakening something carnal within him, and the feeling was mixing with his pent up rage, making for a dangerous combination.

“You know what to do,” he spoke.

You continued looking up at him through hooded eyes as you tugged at his breeches, but they wouldn’t move until he removed his sword from around his waist, which he did quickly and swiftly. Without any obstructions, you were able to pull down all the clothing that sat on his waist, freeing his cock.

“And if someone decides to check on the Crown Prince?” you asked, watching Jacaerys shudder as your hand gently wrapped around the base of his length.

Jacaerys braced himself by placing a hand on the wall next to him. “I dare them to try and stop me,” he said, gripping your hair in his hand, making a fist and positioning your head in front of his tip, “open.”

You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, and Jacaerys lightly growled as he pushed your face into him, your mouth enveloping his cock as the tip immediately hit the back of your throat, causing your gag reflex to act up for a brief moment.

Your hand remained on the base of his shaft, lightly stroking up and down as he continued to force your head as far as he could down his length, before allowing you to take over. He kept his fingers tangled in your hair, ready to keep you on him if you tried to leave, but he wanted to feel what you could do without his constant guidance.

You set a steady pace with your mouth, running your tongue over and around his tip every once in a while. You looked up at him, and the sight caused his cock to twitch in your mouth as he threw his head back in pleasure.

His lips parted as he involuntarily gasped and whined when you picked up the pace. You continued to look up at him, knowing it added to his arousal when he caught your gaze, his cock bumping your throat as you nearly choked around him.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he began to move your head again, shifting his hips slightly to fuck into your mouth. You tried to maintain your pace, but Jacaerys wasn’t having it. “Stay still,” he demanded.

You put your hands on your thighs, allowing him to take over as he began to fuck your mouth. He was snapping his hips the hardest he could in a standing position.

You began to let out small chokes and moans as he hit the back of your throat at a steady, yet fast rate. You tried to focus on breathing through your nose as you constricted your throat and held your jaw open for Jacaerys to use for his pleasure.

“You look so good on your knees for me,” he spoke through gritted teeth, pushing and pulling your head via your hair a final few times until you felt an unfamiliar, salty liquid hit the back of your throat.

You instinctively swallowed his seed. He held your jaw open as he pulled out of you, checking to ensure you swallowed everything, but you didn’t understand what he was doing.

He ruthlessly shoved two fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and forcing your mouth even more open. When he couldn’t see or feel any more of his seed in your mouth, he sighed, “good girl.”

“Proven myself enough?” you quipped, giggling slight after your statement to demonstrate that you meant it as lighthearted.

“Your mouth may be loyal to me,” Jacaerys said, “but that’s not the only part of you. Get up.”

You pushed yourself up until you were at his level again, and he immediately grabbed your shoulders, swinging you around and backing you up until the back of your legs hit the cell bench. You fell into a sit, and Jacaerys stood intimidatingly over you.

“Pull your dress up,” he instructed.

You began to bunch up the fabric of the dress Daemon had provided you, pulling it upward until it was at your waistline, and lifting your hips so you were no longer sitting on fabric. You jolted slightly when the flesh of your ass hit the cold bench, and Jacaerys watched in amusement.

Jacaerys tilted his head to the side as he ran a finger along the seam of your small clothes, hooking a finger under the band, pulling, and then snapping the band back onto your waist. “Off.”

You pulled them down your legs, dropping them to the floor below you. Jacaerys stared at your core for a moment before dropping to his knees in front of you, lifting both of your legs and adjusting them onto his shoulders.

Your breathing quickened, your chest rising and falling rapidly and he looked up at you, leaning closer and closer toward you. He stuck his tongue out, running it slowly between your folds, watching you sigh in pleasure at the feeling.

“Have you ever been tasted?” he asked, brimming with a confidence you’d never seen.

“No,” you admitted.

“Good girl,” he praised, “you really are loyal to me.”

He pressed his face to your core, his tongue swirling and circling around your clit as he sucked you, his hands holding onto your thighs for assistance with anchoring them to his shoulders.

Every so often he licked a strip from your hole to your clit, collecting all your wetness in an eager attempt to taste you.

You couldn’t help but watch him. It was so erotic, seeing the boy you’ve wanted like this for so long in between your legs, and looking the most handsome you’d ever seen him.

Your hand found the back of his head, holding him against you as his tongue teased your hole, slowly pushing in and curling upward against your spongy walls as you whimpered.

You completely involuntarily started to twirl strands of his hair around your pointer finger, playing with the unfamiliar length almost on instinct.

Jacaerys pulled away from you. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered, “couldn’t help it. I like it like this.”

“Yeah?” he responded.

“Mhm,” you vocalized, tugging lightly at the strands on the back of his head as he dove back into your cunt, his tongue inside of you at the same time he sucked your clit, the brand new feeling nearly overwhelming.

“Fuck, Jacaerys,” you moaned.

“Tell me you belong to me,” he commanded, watching your face as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth.

“I- I’m yours, Jace,” you breathed out, shaky, “a-always been y-yours.”

Your words made his cock begin to harden again, despite having already came.

Jacaerys moaned into your cunt, causing your walls to squeeze as your high approached.

“If you’re mine, then come for me.”

His words drove you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you hard as your back arched and your thighs tried to clamp around his head, but he held them open as he tasted every last drop from you.

Jace ran a thumb over his bottom lip to collect any extra wetness, sucking the digit clean as he stood over you again.

“Could have had you even earlier,” he said, holding his palm out in front of your face, “if they told me you were here. Spit.”

“Into your hand?” you asked, confused by the action.

“I need something to help lubricate,” he explained, “unless you think you’re wet enough.”

His tone was intentionally taunting you, and it drove you crazy. You liked him being domineering over you.

Embarrassed, you forced the words out, “I don’t think that’s a problem.”

“No?” he responded, ruthlessly shoving a finger into your hole, causing you to gasp as he almost immediately pulled it out and sucked it dry, “guess you’re right.”

He lined his cock up with your entrance, holding one leg flush against his waist. “Can’t believe I could have had you yesterday.”

He pushed his entire length into you with one violent thrust, a strangled moan leaving your throat at the sudden intrusion. The force nearly had you crying, your hole not quite ready for his size, even with your immense wetness.

“Poor baby, is that too much? You gonna cry?” he taunted, pulling almost all the way out before pushing into you hard again, causing your body to jolt upward.

A tear ran down your cheek, and Jacaerys leaned down and licked it off of your face.

Seeing you cry reminded him of the frustration he entered the room with, and he would be damned if he didn’t use the outlet right in front of him to release some of it.

He gripped your waist roughly, beginning to piston in and out of you, forcing you to adjust to his size as you went, if that was even possible.

A hand found its way around your throat, squeezing enough to only slightly obstruct your air flow as he fucked you hard. He thought about how mad at you he was, how mad at his family he was, how mad at this war he was, how good you looked underneath him- he was starting to lose control.

You whined his name as your walls began to squeeze him again, overstimulated from having just came only a few minutes ago. Jacaerys slowed down his pace exponentially, determined to make your next climax drag out.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he praised.

You simply moaned in response, his hips rutting into you at a violent pace, his pubic bone hitting your clit with every single thrust.

His hand left your throat and instead snaked around your waist, holding you at a higher angle that felt even better than before.

“Jace, fuck,” you moaned.

You heard armored footsteps clang down the staircase, and within moments, a member of the guard came into view. Jacaerys turned to him, with no urgency, and no shame. He continued to fuck you as he spoke, “not now.”

The man was caught off guard by the sight, and you tried to turn away from him and hide, but Jacaerys grabbed your jaw and forced you to keep your head straight.

When the man only took a step back and didn’t fully leave, Jacaerys repeated himself. “Not. Fucking. Now.”

The man snapped out of his thoughts the second time, bowing toward Jace and retreating back up the staircase.

Jacaerys picked up the pace once the man was out of view, fucking you as fast as he possibly could.

“Always have to fucking repeat myself,” he said, his anger growing as he dipped his head near the crook of your neck.

He spoke with each thrust, “They Never. Fucking. Listen.”

Tears were freely falling down your face now, the intensity almost too much for you. Jacaerys lifted his head to look at you, saw you crying, and lost it.

He pulled out of you, swiftly pulling you off the bench, spinning you around, and roughly pushing you back down so that your elbows rested on the bench, your ass up and level with his hips.

He inserted himself back into you and reset his pace, snapping his hips against you as hard as he could, watching the flesh of your ass shake with each hit.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, harshly pulling until your back arched. He watched your face contort in pleasure, now that there was no hiding. Jacaerys had you completely at his mercy.

“So fucking pretty, crying with my cock in you.”

His words caused your walls to squeeze his cock, only a few sharp thrusts away from coming.

Your second high hit you even harder than the first, your legs shaking uncontrollably as your juices lubricated Jace even more.

You would have fallen, your legs giving out, if Jacaerys didn’t have such an intense grip in your hips. Feeling the weakness in your legs. he wrapped an arm around your waist and one around your chest, pulling you upward so that your back was flush against his chest.

He broke his dominance to ask you, “fuck, Y/N, where can I come?”

You sniffled and whined, “I’m yours, Jace, you can come inside of me. Please.”

“You want me to fill you up?” he tsked, holding you tightly against him as he thrust upward, “then beg for it.”

“I- I can’t-“

“I don’t like having to repeat myself,” he spat, his thrusts now long but hard, your whole body convulsing and giving out in his arms.

“Please, Jace, please come in me, I’m yours, I want you in me, please-“

The begging was enough to send him over the edge, and he bit down on your shoulder to quiet his groans as he came inside of you, spilling his seed deep within your walls, further marking you as his.

He held you against his body for several minutes, relishing in the feeling of you so close to him, before slowly helping you sit down on the bench.

He sat next to you, catching his breath along with you. When he was sufficiently recovered, he put his clothes back on, stood up, and held a hand out toward you.

You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“You want out of this cell or not?”

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ladyoftheblades · 2 months

Text

her heart his duty

gwayne hightower x reader

synopsis: gwayne did not oft travel to court but a visit to his sister was long overdue and young daeron was to join him as a ward at oldtown soon enough. yet when he arrived he found more interest in a young silver haired girl, the kings very own daughter, his sisters stepdaughter.

warnings: smut, dry humping, masturbation, vouyerism, corruption kink, religious guilt, agegap relationship, intoxication, unrealistic fainting, step incest (?)(uncle step niece)

a/n: i had to tweak some things bc gwayne was a little (a lot) ooc originally, thus i gave him religious guilt. also ive been reading laughter in the dark so i think it influenced me. ENGLISH IN NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE i am also dyslexic.

three moons it took to travel from oldtown to kings landing. three months of ridiculus talks and gossips from his supposed to be profesional fellow knights, subpar meals at inns and dingy taverns and horseback rides from dawn to dusk, gwayne had had enough. the gates of the red keep resembled those of the heavens.

his thighs were raw and scaffed from the saddle, his back drenched from the summer heat. the reception to their arrival was at the very least nice. his sister stood on the courtyard, looking the vision of a queen, though they had not grown up together he loved her with his whole heart. he knew the hardships she faced at court were nothing compared to his. a small gaggle of silver haired children were situated around her, two boys on one side, aegon and aemond he mused on the other an absent minded girl and a small boy clutching her skirts, helaena and little daeron. he had once mission: spend some time with the young prince, train him, make him feel comfortable enough to leave home with him and get out.

he dismounted and stood infront of his family. "welcome brother" said his sister. he took her hand into hers and kissed it. "sister, how youve grown" she gave him a warm smile. "allow me to introduce you, this is aegon"

the boy looked bored and his bloodshot eyes as hell as the purple stain in his tunicsleeve told him he was intoxicated as well. aegon only gave a small nod. his mother gave him a scornfull look but said nothing. "next to him is aemond"

"welcome uncle" "it is good to meet you my prince"

"this is my daughter, helaena" continued alicent. the girl gave a curtsy, he gave her a warm smile, she was the spitting image of her mother at this age. "and finally, this is little daeron" the boy only clutched his mothers skirts harder, hiding his face partially behind the dress. gwayne crouched down to be at eye level with his nephew.

"hello, young prince" his hand went to his pocket and pulled out a small hankerchief. he pulled the hankerchief appart to reveal a small wooden dragon. "this, i brough for you especially. it was given to me by mine own uncle, now i pass it to you"

the boy eyes lit up with curiosity, the toy an enticing offer, coaxing him out of his little hiding place. his hands left the fabric and reached out to get the toy, examining it with his hands, a smile tugging at his mouth. "what do we say, daeron ?" said his mother. "thank you uncle gwayne"

gwayne smilled and rose to his feet. "trot along now, i shall see ypu this eve for training, do you enjoy archery, young prince ?" he added. daeron nodded, eyes still trained on his b rand new toy. "very good then, i shall see you soon" and with that the siblings each went their respective way.

gwayne took a moment to study the courtyard, knights walked left and right, some stewards attended to their horses, further back toward the gardens sat a few ladies sat gossiping. as he studied the area, a curious figure caught his eye. a young girl, silver haired and wearing traditional targaryen red, stood behind a wall, her body was somewhat hidden, but her head poked out in curiosity, revealing long silver locks, traditional to the house targaryen. he studied her form from bottom to top, reaching her face. cute, he thought, when he searched to look at her eyes, he found them looking back at him. but they did not stay that way long for the second she realised her curiosity was returned, they widened and she diapeared behind the wall at once.

"is something the matter, brother ?" his sister said, noting his prolonged silence. he returned to his sister "has a silver cat in the shape of a lady made home at the keep or is perhaps another daughter you have hidden from me ?"

his sister gave him another smile "no brother, i believe you saw my step-daughter" gwaynes face twisted into one of confusion. "the princess rhaenyra ?"

"no brother, the younger. she is not half bad, nothing like her sister anyway, she is quite shy especially with strangers. you may not see her at all in the time you spend here." his expression softened, still curious but now moreso.... intrigued.

"come, let me show you to your rooms, you must be exhausted" alicent continued, interlocking her arms begining to pave their way to the guest chambers. they reared the wall behind which the princess had disapeared, excpecting to see her eunning along to avoid him but she was nowhere to be found. how could one diapear so swiftly ?

his chambers were plain, nothing like the ones at oldtown, he was not spoiled but being son and heir to one of the wealthiest houses of the realm grew him accustomed to a certain standard of luxury. they were also exceptionally dull. his training session with daeron had a while to come yet, and thus he decited to visit the so famed library of the red keep. he walked the halls and arrived to the room, excpecting it to empty,most of the lords and ladies preocupied with the official hightower visit.

he oppened the heavy mahogany doors, stepping in cautiously. the room was as excpected, quiet and empty. almost. in front of him, to the other side of the room, sat a small sette near the fireplace. that was no unordinarity, the odd thing, was the oppen book gracing the table, the small blancet hastily disgarded to the side of the armchair and the haphazardly thrown around pillows. clear signs someone was occupying the space. he only knew of one person who would vanish at the sight of a stranger.

he looked around the room, taking note of any further evidence to suggest human activity. and there it was, a hankerchief to the right of the sette. his gaze scanned the shelves nearby the misplaced cloth, and surely, he could make out a form two bookcases back. he smirked to himself, he would coax the girl out whether she liked it or not.

he took a cautious step forth, silently traversing the room, he walked to the sette and picked up the dicarded hancerchief. the figure had not moved from its hiding place. he walked further, amongst the bookcases, pretending to browse the books. when he got close to the form, it began to run, he gave chase, swiftly turning the corner, now faced with the back of the young maiden. "princess"

she stopped, body clearly tense, hands in tight fists next to her body. tenatively she turned around. he could now marvel at her beauty. truly marvel at her features. her face was flushed, red from embarassment, contrasting yet complimenting her mesmerising violet eyes and silver valyrian hair. she was truly, stunning, surely the most comely maiden he had lay eyes upon. "sir gwayne hightower, i do believe" she said, voice coming out close to a whisper, the nerves behind it unmasked to his ears.

"in the flesh..." he continued, eyes studying her form like a predator seizing up pray. "i do believe, you dropped this" he said, raising the hankerchief up to eye level. her hand moved slowly, twitching with nerves and ever so cautiously, to take it, but he pulled his hand back, tucking the piece of fabric in his pocket instead. "wh-why did you um.. i mean, what should you want with a silly hankerchief, ser ?" he gave her a smile mischievy lacing his expression, darkening his blue eyes.

"such an elusive lady you are, and such an intriguing one at that. i cannot give up the one thing tying us together, i should not like to see you run from me... again" she gave a breathy chuckle, uneasiness evident in both the sound and the way her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. "please, i do not wish to interrupt your studying, allow me keep you company" he extended his hand to hers again, she looked to it in fear, yet accepted it anyway. he raised it to his face, eyes never leaving hers, full of lust, and kissed it. her eyes were wide, violet brought out her embarasment, ckeeks somehow even more flushed. he tugged her forth, and moved to take her back to the settee. they walked and sat across eachother in silence.

he looked to the princess, who nervously sat and fiddled with her book, her eyes trained to it, trained to anywhere but him really, as if seeing him would lead to her doom. "what are you studying, my princess ?" she swallowed hard. "umm well, it is no interesting thing not really atleast-"

"anything that holds your attention is a worthwile read i would venture" she sucked in a hurried breath, her expression changing from complete fear, to fear still but now with a mix of excitement.

"oh, it is- it is written by a braavosi traveler, an account of his relationship with the lysenian lady allara"

"a love story then ?" he said, mischeivus smile returning, eyes reflecting a glint from the sun making her chest flush with emotion. "well, yes, a tragedy ore like to be honest "

"how so ?" "well thy were um seperated, by circumstances, you know as it happens usually,they were of different social standing and she was kept away most her life and h-had no real connection with the world so believed his promises of adventure to be void, eventually they were discovered but all was well in the end, as well as it could atleast and-"

she stopped speaking suddently, realising how she had rambled and looked up, meeting gwaynes eyes, excpecting to find disgust or boredom or even fury but none of that were present. he only looked to her in admiration, in intigue. still shame ran hot in her veins, the emotion almost tied to her name, "oh i- apologise, ser, i have incoherently rambled on" she apologised.

"no apology secessary my princess, i find your passion... quite amusing." she swallowed hard at his words, unacustomed to such attention, any attention from a stranger. "do you find yourself in the lady ?" continued gwayne.

"oh, well, i guess i do" she spoke in a single breath. "have you any romantic endeavors with braavosi travellers, my princess ? is this your confession ?" he teased. her eyes widened once again, shifting her position and shaking her head rapidly. "oh no, ofcourse not, how could i even find one such man in this castle"

he gave a saccharine smile, eating away at the princesses defences simultaniously firing up her shame. "do you feel deprived of adventure, then, as the princess in the story did ?" his hand on the table moved, slowly reaching hers. she failed to notice it, too focused on keeping her breathing elevated and not bursting in flame from shame. when his skin brushed against her knuckle she twitched, pulling her hand away, but it was too late. his hand moved swiftly, taking her delicate hand into his calous one, he could not help but notice just how smaller it was, his palm covering it in its entirety.

the contact sent waves of nerves through her body, but something about his warm toutch, something about his smooth movements, the way he caressed her knuckles along with his questions, the interest he showed to her oppinion, it stirred something in her. not just her chest, in her stomach... lower. the feeling was nice but its unfamiliarity alarmed her.

it was true, much like the lady in her book she had minimal contact with the outside world. most she had was the occasional trip on her dragon to her cousin laena and uncle daemon in pentos or the ones to dragonstone with her sister rhaenyra. if she was lucky and the queen was in good spirits, she would allow her to acompany her to the sept, where she caught shoert glimpses st the vibrant city of kings landing. but, as stated before, all of those were quite rare. most of the time she had to content herself with overhearing stories from viting lords, ever too shy to even approach them and ask questions.

"i should say... yes. i do not have many opportunities to exit the walls of the keep." he gave a hum, never taking his eyes off of hers. "should you like to ?"

she was still aprehensive of the man before her, but his words were so sweet. her head was a battlefield, shyness and intrigue kicking up a storm. "i should, yet i fail to see how it would be possible"

"perhaps...with the right company" he teased yet again. shyness, even caution of strangers failed to prevail in the face of promise of adventure. "do you fancy yourself the right company, ser gwayne ?"

he smiled, now genuine and true, showing his pearly teeth. "mayhaps we ought to find out, if you would have me" the air around them shifted, falling into a comfortable silence. they stared into eachothers eyes, blue into violet, sparks threatening to blaze into fire.

alas, their time had to come to an end. gwayne broke eye contact, looking to the window, the hour of his duty was drawing closse. he looked back to the princess, whose gaze had shifted to the book again. "earlier, in the courtyart, upon my arrival, i caught you looking at me"

she oppened her mouth to speak but no words came out, instead her lips formed a little 'o' shape, small breaths escaping. very kissable, he thought. "have i exposed your secret ? is secretly staring at people from a distance a habit of yours or something you reserved just for me ?" she did not move, neither did her mouth, a stone statue, the only semblance of life in her was the blush on her nose. he chuckled, what an intiguing girl he had infront of him. "tis alright, do not tell me, i should like to keep mine own belief, even in delusion"

he slowly rose from his seat, not removing his hand from hers but instead draging it along her arm, slowly, teasingly. through her palm, to her wrist, her sleeve, a snake of temptation, slithering and dragging ints sin, seeping into her skin in its wake. she tensed once again, the shocks from the contact causing her to revert to her demure demeanor. he positioned himself behind her, hand from her shoulder opting instead to play with her hair.

the way the silver of her locks caught the light of the afternoon sun left him mesmerised, the way her shoulders tensed and hunched forward, hurried trembling breaths audible to his ears even moreso. he leaned down, tucking her hair behind her ear and brought his lips to whisper "i shall see you soon, my princess. untill then, i have your little gift to keep me company"

his hot breath on her flesh sent shockwaves to her core, the promise of a randevouz exciting her so. what was this stranger doing to her ? she could not sit and enjoy the feeling of his body close to hers for long though, as he abruptly pulled back. leving the room, leaving her dumbfounded, sitting and staring still hot in her stomach.

training with daeron proved more enjoyable than he had excpected. the boy was witty once he had shaken off his fear, gwayne found himself growing fonder of the boy by the minute. when he was pulled away by his mother to be put to bed, he descited to acompany them, telling himself it was to make his mission succeed, but deep down he knew he wished to spend some more time with his nephew. before he was put to bed for the night, the little prince gave him a big hug which warmed his heart.

time with his nephew was a welcome distraction but the moment the boys chamberdoors closed his mind flew elsewere. the night drew close, soon twilight would be succeded by the dark of night, with it, the fould city of kings landing would come alive in all its debauchery. he wondered if he could approach the princess, if he could help her get a taste of adventure she so desired. the more he thought of her wide eyes the more antsy he grew to see them again. she was all innocence, asking of him to whisk her away, to show her the truth of the world, to corrupt her. he loved and hated it. those were no thoughts of a knight nor of a hightower.

he was a good man, faithfull, devout, the image of chivalry, his name a shining example to every knight in all the reach. many a lady had tried to tempt him, young girls no doubt urged by their ambitious fathers to join the house hightower, others rebelling against the chains of their duty, but he had alwasy shot them down, he knew better. he had had his fair share of indulgences as well, brothels were a booming buisness, even in oldtown after all. but he had the reigns of his desire, never going over board, always in mind of his faith. but this girl... this girl was something. she was young, innocent and the way he had treated her, like a plaything, teasing her in the library, it surprised even himself. he thought back t the words whispered by the lords of the reach, targaryens are closer to gods than men, and found them to ring true. his actions today were not in line with his faith, it made his stomach twist in shame, but he knew, he knew, if the princess asked, he would worship at the altar of her beauty, the seven be damned.

he thought if only he could see her again, if only. the way she had spoken about her books, with such passion, such longing, he wished for nothing but to take her in his arms and show her the world. alas he had no way to approach her. the young maiden was kept under lock-and-key, if the king or worse the princess rhaenyra were to learn of an attempt to tempt her it would surely mean his beheading.

he walked along the halls of maegors holdfast, fully intending to simply get back to his rooms, satisfy his craving for the princess in private and try to approach her again, like a gentleman, in light of the new day. but as he walked, he passed a certain family members chambers, his eldest nephew aegons. he knew some of the princes endeavours, the queens letters oft complaining of her inability to exscersise control over the boy. from oldtown, he though his sister might be reacting dramatically to a simple exertion of youth, this mornings meeting whith aegon told him his sisters words spoke the truth.

gwayne truly meant not to encourage such foul behaviour but... if anyone knew how to slip through the walls of the keep unoticed, it had to be the prince.

a knock sounded at the princesses chambers. given she had had no time to even remove her day clothes, she thought it to be her maids, arriving to prepare her for bed "come in"

the door opened, yet the face of the servant who stepped inside was unfamiliar to her. in his hands he held a silver tray, atop it a pece of paper along with a gray woolen fabric. the servaint said nothing, simply bringing the tray to her, and exiting with a bow.

curiosity killed the cat, she knew it well, the words of gwayne about her peering at him only this morning passing through her mind for a moment. but she was a curious alright, this occurance stirred up that emotion more than anything in her dull life had before. she took the letter upon her hands and oppened it.

to my silver haired cat, if the words you spoke to me ring true, take the path inscribed below at the hour of the eel, not a moment earlier not a moment later. make sure to wear my gift, it is not much but will prove usefull on our adventure. if not, i shall hold onto your hankerchief untill you change your mind. - ser gwayne

she began to kich her feet back and forth, mouth curling into a smile. he was asking a lot of her,sneaking out of the keep and he was, after all, a stranger. he was a man with no obligation to keep her safe, a man she knew naught about, except for the fact he found her intriguing. he found her interesting, he enjoyed her passion for adventure and was holding in his hand all she dreamed of, promising to grant it to her if only she should trust him. he would wait for her, today, tomorrow, so long as it took for her to be ready. how could she not answer his call ?

she swallowed down her nerves, doing her best to not let them trump her need for adventure. she took the cloak in her hands, it was large, large enough to hide her form and silver hair. the hour of the eel drew close, she had to make a descision. she looked to the paper again, a map was inscribled below gwaynes words. it was simple enough to follow, the opportunity was far too precious and too rare to pass up.

this morning she was a shy maiden, apprehensive and petrified at any sight of a stranger, closed off from the world. now, as she placed the cloak atop her shoulders, she remained a terrified maiden but who descited bravely, to open her heart to and interesting man, and seize the opportunity to realise her dream.

the air was cold as it hit gwaynes face, he was waiting at the back exit of the castle, a small arched door, hidden behind foliage and trees, known to lucky few. aegon had given him perfect instructions and a promise of mutual silence to eachothers endeavors. many of maegors passageways lead to the door, luckyly one such had acces to the princesses balcony, a stroke of luck or perhaps, a blessing from the gods.

he awaited the princesses arrival, the distance had lead him to grow impatient. he kept her hankerchief in his hand, playing around with the fabric, tracing her excellently embroidered monogram, hoping, wishing the anxiety in his guts, the guilt of his actions would be smoother over by her. despite the words of the letter, he knew, he would wait for her untill the hour of the wolf if that was what it took. he would wait for her as long as it took.

procuring commoner clothes for both himself and the princess was as humiliating as it was difficult. his skin protested the cheap fabric and his senses the design but it would do for now. he could not simply parade around flea botttom clad in armour after all.

he stood in wait and the more he waited the more anxious he grew. no, no he was not anxious, it was something else, something sinister. he was hungry. he was hungry to see the young princess, to show her what the real world entailed. gods, he could not wait to see her violet eyes fill with graditude upon him fullfiling her desires. it almost made him grow hard in his pants.

as he looked to the moon, mind wondering, he heard someone approach from behind. he turned his head around to be met with the sight he so longed to see. the princess emerged from behind the greenery, his gift draped around her shoulders, but the hood was down, leaving her locks, now in a simpler braided fashion, to catch the moonlight, giving their pretty color an even more exotic appearance. despite the poor appearance of the cloak drawing a sharp contrast to her well groomed royal face and hair, her beauty remained unchanged.

his eyes draged up and down her body, drinking in her appearance, his thoughts of longing turning now more primal. she shifted in her feet, ever so shy, ever so cute. "you came"

"you asked" she replied, eyes on the ground, feet kicking the grovel beneath her soles. "i am glad you did" he continued, taking a step to her, drinking in her ethereal appearance like a man starved. "even commoner clothes cannot stain your beauty, my princess" his hands made their way upward, taking the hood and raising it atop her crown, hiding her silver locks, much to his disapointment. her head remained low, eyes hiding from his. he took her chin with his fingers, and raise it to look her in the eyes. she was trembling like a leaf, despite her fear, her gaze remained firmly onto his, she wanted to trust him, it was her nature which kept her from doing so. he would give his soul to break down her inhibitions.

"do not take the hood off, ever. we do not want reports of a princess sighting in the city to reach the keep now, do we ?" he whispered. she gave a small shake of her head, untrusting of her voice, afraid it would betray her fear. "good" he chuckled, grabing her hand and turning around, guiding her to follow him.

"adventure awaits" if he had turned around he would see the smile atop her lips.

the arched door opened to reveal a grovel path, around the outer walls of the keep. on one side the imposing castle walls kept her trapped outside, on the other rough rock cliffs lead to wild waves below. talk about being between a rock and a hard place. the prospect of her eminent death by drowning petrified her, fear lacing her feet, draging her back, firmly rooting in the ground almost forcing her to yield and freeze in place. but gwaynes reassuring hold on her hand did not let her fall. neither to the pits of fear or to her doom. he took cautious but determined steps, her own feet automatically copying them, quickly leading her around the scary path and onto a road in the outskirts of the city. an real road, paved with more than gravel, set with actual stone. a heavy breath escaped her nose, fear melting now into the steady ground bellow, releasing her from its shackles.

gwayne looked back at her and brought his hand forward, draging her along with it. he recognised the relief painted on her features, glad to see her calmed down. "that was the most difficult part, it is much smoother sailing from now on. come, we have much to see."

he walked with her along the streets, the closer they got to rhaenys hill, the busier the streets got. she marveled at all the sorts of different people in a messy harmony. merchants and bakers and men of all trades walked along the paths, some of them held in their hands leftover product from the day, selling it now at a downmark. other men were dressed in rich clothes, graced with gold and silver jewlery with women of the night flocking around them, figures doused in shadows stalking further back, no doubt awaiting a chance to strike and rob them.

occasionally she could spot gold cloaks on their patrols, but gwayne ensured she was not spotted by any of them. his hand never once left hers. his eyes caught glipses of her face, hidden by the hood, the amazement in her eyes swelled his heart with pride and pants with heat. they walked in silence, enjoying the hustle and bustle of the city. by now they were well on their way to the street of the sister.

in front of him, he spotted a baker, selling several pastries and breads at half price. he approached the man, dragging the young princess with him. she was far too preoccupied staring, gawking moreso, at a band of young men engaged in some sort of game, running up and down the street.

he removed his hand from hers to reach his coin purse. the loss of contact broke her trance, with no warning, she was brought back to reality. to the scary reality. she had lost in a split second her pillar of support, now extremely aware of the world around her. dogs were heard barking viciously in the distance, heavy yelling voices once drowned in the melody of the city now came to the forefront scaring her to her core. the young mens game she had admired a moment past was not but a scary unpredictability, their sudden movements threatening in her head to harm her, gwayne quickly paid the man in exchange of some tart but when he turned around to look at the princess, he realised his mistake.

she looked to him petrified, chest heaving with heavy breaths, hand frozen in place where he had left it, the other on her chest, attempting to regulate her braths. his hand flew to hold her, instead of taking her hand, he took her waist, pressing her body onto his in reasuurance. eyes searched her face, needing to take caution of any change in demeanor. "hey, hey darling, nothing happened, nothing will happen. tis alright i got you"

her breaths still came to her in heavy inhales. the urge to vomit started building up in the bottom of her stomach, vision drawing hazy. gwaynes toutch on her waist was a source of comfort. the support from her knight returned, now in a new form, he was toutching her suggestively, in public no less but without shame, she had half a mind to quit her fainting of fear and swoon from the contact. yet his toutch was anything but unwelcome, anything but a scandal, it was of true chivalry, the hand on her waist along with his sweet words pulling her from the fit of agoraphobia that overtook her.

slowly but surely she regained her composure, focusing on gwayne and gwayne alone instead of the heaps of people circling them. her breaths calmed, coming in rythm of his composed ones. her eyes evidently relaxed, her hyper focused gaze yielding to a relaxed one, searching around his clothing. he smiled "there she is. you scared me half to death my dear" he looked around, searching for a safe place to take her, help her regain her strength.

it just so happened the closest to them establishment, was one of the most famed brothels of the street of silk. oh well, what can you do, he thought. "can you walk, my dear ?" he spoke in a whisper. she gave him a weak nod, and attempted to free herself, to walk independently of his support but failed, slightly stumbling backwards, straight into his arms.

"here, eat this, gain some strength" she pursed her mouth in a tight line and shook her head no. he sighed, the princesses silly attempt a testament to her naivety. "yes, come on, it is for your own good. and do not attempt to stray from me. you are a princess and in need of my aid my dear, it is no shameful thing"

finally she complied, puting it away in one go, some color returning to her face. gwayne sighed once again, this time in relief, his grip on her waist became posssesive for a moment, caging her in, and then, with no warning, he placed a kiss atop her forehead. "come, let us get you comfortable"

she had no time to process such an intimate action as she was taken, gently, along the road, tracing a path to a large purple door. she took note of the dim lanterns encased in shades of pinks and purples, along with the decorum above the door and attempted to deduce what the building was for, a sort of arthouse, a gallery ? it was clearly a sensual place, perhaps a patron of the arts from the free cities, much like the ones who visited the palace, took it up as a project.

gwayne knocked on the door, a woman oppened, clad in a sheer pink fabric, sintched at the waist and embelished with a beaded belt. she could see.... everything, the cut of the dress left little to the imagination, the fabric revealing the rest.

the princess attempted to take a step back, blocked by her protectors hand on her waist. this was not a place of the arts... it was a brothel. her breath hitched at her throat, chest filling with shame. she knew little of how the marital act was done, only aware of bits and piesces accidentally sliped out from rhaenyra. she had attempted to get her hands on books which included details of such an act, only to find out the queen had banned all such books from being kept at the keep. to say she was curious was an understatement. yet despite her need for answers, she did not fancy herself capable of handling such an adventure today. alas she had no other option.

the woman seized up gwayne, clearly noting his pouch heavy with coin, smirking when she took note of his handsome face. then... her gaze fell on her. the whores expression soured, with something the princess could not quite understand. white hot shame overtook her body, one free hand flying to her cloak, puuling down the hood to conceal her face. she had hoped the rest of the workers looks did not leave her so ashamed should they step inside.

the woman did not speak, she only looked to gwaynes eyes again, and stepped inside, urging them in. gwaye gave her a slight nudge, ushering her inside all the same.

immedietly upon entring she was hit with the smell of sweat and exotic spice. another woman, older in age than the one at the entrance and clad in more apropriate clothing, approached gwayne, exchanging words she paid no mind to. women and men lounged all around, in various states of undress, in various poses and on differing furniture. there were women with flagons of wine, filling, overfilling every cup with ruby wine.

gwayne pulled her forward, following the older woman, deeper inside the establishment. the further they venture the more debauched and lewd the acts became. she caught glimpses of it, women lying on to of men, repeating a furious up and down motion, some women were on all fours patrons of the establishment positioned behind them. in one room she even caught a glimpse of two women kissing for the viewing pleasure of a man.

the sights left her speechless, shame spreading through her limbs like an explosion but it also sent a wave of uneasiness between her legs. she attempted to drink in the details of the scenes infront of her, but was unable as gwayne dragged her huriedly along. soon they reached yet another door. gwayne handed some coins to the woman, who smiled slyly and disappeared behind a myrish screen. gwayne oppened the door and all but threw her inside.

she stumbled across the stone floors as he closed the door behind them, the room was... something. nice was no word to describe it, far below the standard she had known. the floor was of pure stone, with soft fur carpeting under the bed and bear the hearth, she did not need to wonder what that was for. in the middle of the room stood a large bed, adorned with an assortment of fabrics and furs and pillows. behind it, on the wall hung a tapestry. she began to study it, the scene quite the scandal, two women with bodies intertwined and kissing, another fantasy of the patrons it must be.

gwayne took note of the silence and her wondering eyes, a smirk growing on his face. "not up to standard ?"

"no... i guess, i dont- wh-why did.... why did you bring me here ?"

his smile persevered, stepping closer to her. "oh, do not be scandalised my darling, i only wanted you to be in... a safe enviroment. here we can be away from prying eyes, and the noise of the people, a while, atleast. i believed you to need it"

"well, i-i guess, i- it was awfully crowded wasnt it ?" he exhaled through his nose, his hand flying to place a strand of hair behind her ear. her eyes trembled, focusing on anything, any other thing but his face. "it was, sweet girl" he moved his hands, undoing the pin that held her cloak together. the fabric falling from her shoulders, he took it in his arms and threw it to the side. he could now admire her gown in its entirety.

it was blue in color, deep like the sea, with the symbol of her house embroidered in black thread on her bodice. the cut of the dress was of much interest to him, it was embelished in intricate white lace and in the shape of a 'v' dipping bellow her colarbone, exposing her breasts. her neck was bare of any jewlery, having ommited it in preparation of the trip in the city. her hair was held back, in a braided crown but some strands still fell loose around her shoulders and colarbone. her hair were his favourite feature of hers, their color their silky feel when he ran he hands through them.. he could only imagine what it was like to tug on them.

but he could wait for that. he pulled his hand away and sat at the pillows sprawled around the hearth, placing her cloak to the side, focusing his motions instead to invite the princess to sit next to him. she took the invite, slowly plopping herself, not next to him but across. ouch, he had thought she was more comfortable with him by now, no matter, he simply had to try more. she placed her knees in frot of her and hugged them in a protective matter, her head placed atop.

" are you feeling better ?" he said, readjusting his possition to lie down further. "yes much better, uh thank you ser" "please, we are far past pleasantries my dear. i whisked you away from home and all but carried you in my arms, call me by my name"

"okay, gwayne... ser." gwayne began to laugh, hand over his heart, eyes closing from the wideness of his smile. his whole body rattled with laughter, it was the most genuine the princess had seen him. heat rose up to her cheeks from her mistake, head falling to hide her face betwix her knees. gwayne, among his fit, took notice of the princesses new position, his heart swelling with warmth at the girls shame. what good does shame do to a goddess on earth ?

"oh, my darling, do not fret, i find your attitude... endearing. you will come around to me, eventually i know it." her eyes peeked out from her knees, shining with the firelight, brows raised as if begging for his words to be true. before he could speak to ressure her, a knock sounded at the door. her brows twisted, sending gwayne a quizical look.

"enter" he shouted. and thus the door oppened, a worker stepped inside, carrying in her hands a tray of two cups and a flagon. she was dressed qeerly, moreso than the girl at the door, a dress held at her hips by a metal belt, the top of it all but fallen off, exposing the entirety of her chest deep down into her navel dark skin glistening in the light, around her waist a series of strung together beads. her hair was loose, fashioned in tiny braids, much unlike her own, and cascading down her back, jet black in color, almost that of the night sky. she was truly beautifull, she thought.

her eyes were full of curiosity and completely trained on the woman. she walked inside the rooms to where they were seated, placing the tray between them. her movements were deliberate, sensual in nature, practiced. she made an effort as she lowered herself, to show off her breasts to gwayne. he smiled at the woman briefly but his eyes did not waver with her little show off. the woman, finally, turned to look at the priness, noticing her amazed, innocent gaze and sent her a wink. the princess went red at the face, hiding once again.

gwayne chuckled for yet another time, this was the most entertainment he had had in a while. he took the flagon and poured them both a cup. "you do know... drinking from such a position will prove difficult, though i would be lying if i said i was not curious to see it..."

she chuckled lightly, the sound rattling her shoulders, and let her legs fall down. they fell in front of her, outstretched, her back still somewhat hunched, hands playing with the carpeting. she looked like a doll, ready to be takena and played with, gwayne thought. he had to stop he knew it well, a princess of the realm was no doll, no thing for him to gaze upon so lustfully, but he could not help himself. "y-yeah i quess" she lifted her head and gave him a small glance, smiling as she did so, and took her respective cup. she sipped at the wine cautiously, small little gulps going down her throat.

yet another movement of hers he found utterly endearing. he took his own cup downing half of it in one go "go ahead, drink, it will do you good" he urged. she heeded his instruction, finishing her entire cup in one go. unused to drinking, especially at such a fast pace and on an empty stoamach, she began to feel the wine hit her head with a small wave, it was strong, nothing like that of the palace. gwayne laughed and poured her another cup. "well, you seem to surprise me at every turn, like a cat. a very tempestious cat"

"i- im sorry" "why now are you apologising sweet girl ?" she gave him a smile, looking to his eyes now, nerves steeled by the alcohol. she took her cup again and began to drink. slowly this time. "well i, i- dont know... maybe i did something wrong or.. or you, you feel i am odd or you know-"

"i find your oddness fascinating, if it please" she gave him a full smile, teeth showing and all. they remained that way a while, their silence leaving the room barren, penetrable by the outside sounds. all sorts of moans and grunts, in all levels of theatrics. they sat and listened a while untill a chortle ran through the princesses body at a particularly high pitched sound. she looked to gwayne with wide eyes, afraid she had done a wrong thing again. but gwayne did not seem repulsed by her in the slightest only replying with a chuckle of his own. soon, the room errupted into laughter, a melody of joy, strange innocence filling the room created to facilitate debauchery.

among their laughs, the princess afflicted clearly by the wine managed to chocke out "wh- what could posses one to create such a sound ?"

gwayne among his own laughter, took pause, still smiling but now his eyes shined with something else, something dark. even the pure crystal of their color could not absolve them of such sinister look. gwayne felt his insides stir with lust, he was leading the princess down a road he knew he should not. he had taken her from her home, showed her the crazed streets of the city, caused her to almost faint and now had lead her into the last place she ought to be in.

but then again, she was no child, she was a young woman, she would have to learn of these things soon... all he was doing really was teatching her, yes, that was it. he did no wrong, he had not toutched her, not forced upon her anything, he was simply exposing her to a different world, he was fulfilling her dream, he was no bad influence, he was a teatcher he rationalized. "well, they are paid to act as if they enjoy it..."

she chocked on her drink, some of it dripping down her chin, even to her colarbone and chest. gwayne looked at the sight, and if she had been able to look at him, she would note of the lust gracing his features. she attempted to clean herself, but only managing to soil her sleeve. understanding the uneasiness of the moment between them she felt needed to do something to remedy it "w-well, i would not know"

she looked down to the floor, body frozen, afraid of what gwaynes response would be. it was, after all, improper conversation. "i did not expect you to, my dear. the ladies of the realm are left with no education on such matters, left to believe the act to be but the prerequisite of creating offspring"

she raised her head, alcohol coursing through her veins washing away the bashfullness of her personality, "but it can be good, no ?" it was gwaynes turn to be shocked, to chocke over his own spit. he cleared his throat and swallowed hard, as if that would aleviate the guilt he felt. he was corrupting her... the evidence began to show, this new side of the princess something most definetly brought about by his and their adventures. but then again, she had a right to know. she had a right to know what the marrital act entailed, she would be married soon enough. he could feel the image of the mother chastising him, his faith a forever alarm in the back of his head, an unnerving lighthouse in the sea of his mind.

but the light grew dimmer and dimmer, replaced by the rose colored visage of the princess, her violet eyes looking to his for answers, her knight, her companion, her teatcher. how could he dissapoint. "well... yes, ofcourse it can. there are many aspects to carnal pleasure, many of the in servitude to women, though they are neglected in the royal beds. women can draw as much pleasure as the man"

his hand went to her extended leg, brushing his thumb along her ankle. what washe doing ? he should get out of there, take her in his arms and take her where nothing could taint her. his heart wished to protect her virtue, but a larger part, a truer part perhaps, longed to be the one to soil her so. "i should like to know" she spoke. gwaynes hand on her ankle tensed, squeezing her extremity slightly. there was no place for the seven in a place like this, this was a house of sin. but knoledge, is ever present, even in the darkest of acts, even in war and death there is something to be learned. this was but another part of life she ought to lear, he justified to himself.

he sent her a look, another squeeze to her ankle, a quizical one this time, asking "are you sure ?". she nodded.

gwayne had half a mind to take her in his arms and show her firsthand all she needed to learn. but he held back, raising himself to stand instead. he extended his hand in front of her face, asking her to take it, though he knew already she would. she looked up at him, innocent eyes through lashes, if only she knew the effect she had on him, and accepted the invitation. he pulled her from her position, a laugh escaping her, only to bring her flush against his front and urge her forth.

they exited the room and began to wonder the hallways, hands entwined, giggling. they must have looked like children frolicking through fields, a vision opposite to their enviroment. sounds of coupling echoed through the walls of the establishment, they passed through several doors and rooms, gwayne looking briefly inside of every single one, browsing. eventually they stopped, having reached a certain chamber, quite unlike the rest. the door was wise open leaving the inside available to spectators, they were much richer in furnishings than the chambers they had resided in, clearly, the client was of exceptional wealth.

"here, take a look" whispered gwayne, bringing her forward to look at the couple, pressing himself to her back all the same.

the scene was... debauching, bewitching, scandalising. in the middle of the room lay a circular bed, on top of it a couple, a man surprisingly young for a client here, and a woman equally as beautifull. the man sat in the middle of it, she on top of him. her hips moved in sensual motions, practiced by the years of her work, each movement of hers must have worked wonders for they elicited loud moans and grunts from the man, the melodious sound mixing with mewls of her own and the sounds of their hips.

the princess was enamoured by the sight infront of her. she felt an ache to her stomach, throbing in her insides, unfamiliar feeling with an unknown solution. she was mesmerised both by her bodys reaction and the scene in front of her, so much so she failed to take notice of gwayne behind her, pulling her in his embrace like a serpent, slithering hands around her waist, head going to whisper in her ear. "enjoying the lesson ?"

feeling his breath, his sweet words in her ear, it startled her, body working on its own, attempting to escape the knights trap. but his hold on her did not relent, his arms working on their own, trapping her further in his hold. "are you uncomfortable ? or simply shy ?". his hand on her stomach began to move, feathelight, back and forth, up and down, sending shocks of pleasure through her body.

"you see my dear, it is not so bad... it is not bad at all. everything is part of human nature, so is this even if the gods deem it private. you neednt feel uncomfortable.." his hand moved further up, possesed, on its own accord, before either of them could realis ewhat they were doing, she felt his hand onto her breast. the tension in her body could take no longer, mouth releasing a loud yelp. the sound came quite louder than she had excpected, grabbing the attention of some of the ladies and patrons near them. immedietly, whispers could be heard, even above the lustfull sound of the brothel, "is that a princess ?" one such whisper reached the ears of gwayne. immedietly he pulled the girl along, before she had time to question him.they began running through the brothel, back to their room.

once again gwayne threw her inside with haste, this time, the ferocity with which his movements guded her, lead the princess to loose her footing and almost land bottom-first onto the floor. almost. she felt strong hands around her waist. once again, gwayne her knight had come to her rescue, the gesture filled her heart to the brim with affection. as his clear blue eyes gazed upon hers with concern, she looked to their vastness, the world stopping for a moment, for that moment, gwayne was her everything and she was his.

it was no time for such emotions however, they both knew, carefull adn a bit akward, she gained her footing, gwaynes hands leaving her, his own body moving to grab her previously discarded cloak from the floor. he took it and placed it on her shoulders, the motion so tender it was more reminiscent of a wedding ceremony.

she would be the death of him gwayne thought, no god could wash away the sins he had commited to her virtue that night, despite it all he knew he would not repent, she would be the death of him, he thought. she his death and his own desire his damnation. "we must make haste if we wish to go unnoticed" gwayne spoke in concern but only playfulness comuted to the young girls mind.

he took her arm, carefull this time to be gentle, and began to once again navigate her through the brothel. whores and patrons alike noticed the swiftness with which they exited but, far too preocupied with catching a glimpse of the targaryen princess in their midsts, paid no mind. they exited the brothel onto the streets once again. gwayne paved a path for them, different from the last one. this time they took the narrow strainous path of the hook.

the princess grew tired of the fast pace but time left little window for rest. noticing her reluctance, gwayne wasted no time, taking her in his arms, like abride on her way to the bedding ceremony, to carry the rest of the way.

there, in the arms of gwayne hightower, she felt a strange peace. she gazed upon the streets of the city, aware it might well be the vary last time she could so freely traverse them. yet, she found herself unable to focus on the experience, the arms around her so sturdy, a worthy distraction. the audible heartbeat of her knight only the crowning jewel of the experience.

eventually, they reached the tall walls surrounding the red keep, at a blindspot to the guard. much to her dismay, gwayne put her down, holding her waist untill she stabilised.

"there is another hidden door here, leading to the kitchens. it is a forgotten servants passage. i believe you can take yourself to your rooms from there ?" she nodded. "good. i shall take a different path, lower the risk of being noticed, nothing to concern yourself with"

she was not ready for their time together to be ended. she longed to spend more time with gwayne, his name to her synonymous with fun. his eyes looked down to hers, locked in time, both of them unknowing what the correct words to say were. the longer he stared at her the more her body filled with heat, the blue of his eyes, the various memories of his hands on her filling her core with that same sensation the show at the brothel brought about. only this time... it was far more intesnse.

she opened her mouth to speak only to be cut off, not by words of his own, but his movement, hand flying to her face, sowly dropping the hood of her cloak so he may marvel at the moonlight in her hair one last time. confident now, his hand found purchase on her ckeeck.

if she was not hot from the strange feeling in her core, his toutch would surely burn her. "my stay at the city will not be long... i only hope to have fulfilled your hearts desire. i know you have gifted me with a night i will tresure forever. are you satisfyed, my darling ?" his thumb dug slightly into her cheek to emphasise his words. she nodded. "use your words my darling, do not withhold your beautifull voice from me"

"yes" she said, voice dripping with desperation. he smiled and removed his hand from her cheek. the loss of heat threatened to send a frown to her face. but she had to brave, for gwayne. instead, his hand reached into his pocket, pulling out nothing else but her hankerchief. "i do believe this is yours"

she looked to the piece of fabric, and considered for a second. "keep it" she said. gwaynes eyebrows shot up in surpruse, his mouth a playfull smile. "i shall treasure it for the rest of my days, my princess"

she felt a strange pull to gwayne, something in her mind, no, not her mind, this was no logical or sensical thought, the heart surely had juristiction over it, or rather, the feeling in her stomach, it told her to kiss him. to give herself to him fully, to repeat the things she had learned in the brothel.

before her body could give in though, footsteps were heard, no wonder the keeps guard. gwayne said nothing, only hurrying her inside the hidden brick door and diapearing. she stood there, in the dark of the basement and stared at the closed door. even when outside the footsteps came to pass, she made no movement. there were things unsaid, things yet to be done between her and gwaye. but they had to remain uncovered, she knew, in her mind the same as her heart.

gwayne tried to sleep. gods he so wanted to sleep. maybe in the unknown land of darkness he would find the one who he so longed to see, maybe then he would be able to do the things he wanted, to say what he thought, bare of shame and guilt. he reached to his 'commoner' pants, the ones he wore on their excursion, shuffling around the fabric, to pull out what he wanted. the princesses hancerchief, the one she had so graciously gifted him. it still held some of her scent.

it was to be a long night and the painfull erection in his undergarments tastament to just that. if he was to get through it he needed a distraction...

the morning light filtered through his window, disturbing his sleep which had not come easy, orgasming into the night untill he knocked himself out from exhaustion. he could still feel the soreness in his legs. one day at kings landing and already he had turned to a sinner. but it was not kings landing at fault, it was the princess.

he slowly rose, placing feet on cold hard ground. the itinary of today dictated breaking fast with his sister and her family, attending to some buisness at court his father insisted upon, training with daeron yet again and in the afternoon, more politics with his father and the king. no time was allocated to himself, no time to maybe try and seek out the princess. there was a small chance of her presance at either the breakfast, or sneaking around in the yard, the sole thing keeping him motivated.

and yet he went on and on with his day with no appearance from her. no lithe form sneaking around walls and bushes to catch a glimpse of, no presance at breaking fast, nothing. he settled back into his rooms defeated. he had gone thought the motions of his nightly routine as if possesed. and when he finally settled into his bed, he felt a pang of rejection. he sat and shimered in the feeling, second guessing his actions of the night before, replaying all the things he could have done differently. when-

his door sounded open and closed, the creaking of the wood at the hinges unmistakable to be anything else. he got up suddently, affraid of there being some threat to his person he had to face. he turned his head around, excpecting the worst, only to see the face he had been excpecting all day.

the princess stood there, clad in only a white nightgown, hair loose and tussling though her shoulders all the way down her back, in her hands a small candle, casting shadows on her face rendering her excpression unreadable.

gwayne knew not whst to say, the gods delivered to him the gratest gift of all. she was here, with him, out of her own volition, he almost could not handle it. he had to take this in stride, one wrong move could send her bolting. and thus he sat there, ever still, trying to hold back his urge to lunge at her and the annoying presence between his legs.

even whith the minimal light, he could see the way her chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. "i-" she began, the rest of the words melting from her tongue. gwayne chuckled, ever amused by the princesses demeanor. "my princess do yo-"

"shut up" she cut him off. gwaybe would be shocked if he was not so amused. the princesses hand fidled with the fabric of her gown, a beat passed adn she stepped forward, steps full of nervous determination. she walked all the way to his side on the bed.

now he could see her clearly, the red of her cheeks, the purse of her mouth, the pink details of her dress so delicately wrapping her form. he still held back, fighting to not reach his hands and toutch her, make sure she was real and not a manifestation of his deepest desires. cautiously, slowly, she placed her candle atop the nightstand. "i wanted to... um... i wh-"

his hand acted on instinct, finding her hip. she looked down on his hand, exhaling. "can i- i- i should sit down right, yes" and she did just that. he repositioned himself to give her space, hand on her hip subtly guiding her movements. "i wanted to... see you i... mised you"

his hand began to move up and down on her body, making her grow tesnser. "i missed you too. never did i think i would, want lingering eyes from the shadows" "well um.. yes, i meant maybe... in a different way"

gwaynes eyes gleamed with hope, dangerous waters the princess was treading but who was he to say no ? "what is it, sweet girl ? you can tell me"

"i have this... feeling in... my stomach i just, i want... you, i just, i cant describe it" gwayne took no time to move, placing both his hands on her hips, knowing where this conversation was going, savouring the princess basically serving herself to him on a golden platter. "do you want to toutch me sweet girl ? is that it ?"

"yes. i want... i dont know, ive been thinking... you know about umm... about the things... we saw, at the brothel" his hand moved, from her thigh to her hand, she did not pull back, allowing him instead to take it, playing with her fingers, calous skin on soft one. "what have you been thinking about ?" "i... thought about... y-you and and me in... their place"

gwayne could feel his cock almost throbing in pain. she would be the death of him. his hand on hers moved, on her back, bringing her closer to him. she grew tense, her free hand still fidling with her skirts. his other hand moved to her face, cupping her cheeck, raising her head to look at him. her eyes looking up at him, her form couped up under him, he swore he was in the heavens.

still, he could gauge the princesses nerves, tense body and trembling hands, and as much amusement as he found in this little game, she remained a flight risk as well as a fainting risk, if he were to take her right away, surely she would vanish. and so, he remained quiet, unlt silently reassuring the princess with his thumb on her face. "i just umm... theres this feeling in my stomach and... it makes me want to do these, things, i- i have been thinking about this, been fantascising"

his hand on her face left, slowly dragging downwards, onto her stomach, just a little bit above her core. "this feeling, here, is it?"

she nodded furiously. she did not know what was happening to her, to her body, she only knew gwayne was causing it and soely he could fix it. gwayne her knight, her confidante, her cause and key. "show me then, sweet girl, how would you do it ?"

her head craned to look at him, confusion lacing her features, mouth open, ready to speak. he stopped her with a kiss. he kissed her, finally. all he had hoped ofr, wanted, longed to do these past couple of days, realised with such a simple movement. to his surpsride and delight she did not pull back, not only, she pressed herself further into him, her hands on his thighs, finding purchase not of nervousness but need. she needed him, she needed the support of her knight.

the princess felt as though she would implode if he did not toutch her, damned shame preventing her from unashamedly speaking her mind. times like these she wished to be like her sister, take what she wanted with no concern of consequences. just as she thought she could take no more, he kissed her. his lips were soft, so soft, a perfect contrast to the rough hands on her back and stomach. her head filled with desire, with need, she belived she would faint again, faint if he would be taken from her. her need gave no space for shame anymore, the longer his lips remained on hers the more shame drained from her body, leaving her only in desperation. he hands flew to his thighs a silent prayer for more.

he pulled away, much to her dismay. his body twisted, reaching the empty space on the other side of the bed, bringing to her a pillow. he knew he could not grant her what she sought, gods forgive, he had done damage enough, soiling the mind of such an innocent creature but he could not dissapoint her either. his mind spoke of guilt but his heart knew, this was but a carnal expression of his devotion, how could such a thing be sinfull ?

he could have his cake and eat it too, please the princess and protect the sambles of purity she still had. it was his duty, as her teatcher and knight, to guide her through the worlds of both duty and adventure. "do you ever... pleasure yourslef, princess ?" she shook her head no. "tis alright, cmon i shall show you" he placed the pillow in her lap.

confusion was not a strong enough word to describe the princessed feeling to gwaynes actions. still, she trusted him with her life, he had proven his devotion, truly, all he needed do is ask and she would jump into the depths of the sea for him. the hand on her back guided her forward, urged het to... sit on the pillow in her lap. ever so trusting, she followed his guidance. slowly, cautiously but unashamedly, she stradled the pillow. the new position reminiscent of the one the worker had on the brothel, now she understood.

"y-you want me to.. do onto the pillow, as i would onto you ?" gwayne smiled, "yes, sweet girl.i want you to use the pillow to take your pleasure, to be selfish. can you do that, for me ?" she nodded. her hands moved from gwaynes thighs to grip the pillow. the shame she had felt earlier but a faint memory, the only thing she could think of was pleasing him. she began to roch her hips, back and forth.

her core was bare on the fabric, leading her to feel every sensation, every rub, everything. she could feel tension on her insides, moving her hips back, pearl bare on the fabric, a completely new sensation. she did not know what exactly was happening, she knew not why this particular spot on her core sent shocks through her body, she only knew it aided in alevieting the tension to her stomach. she pushed her body harder onto the pillow, chasing her pleasure.

she became so consumed with discovering her own body, she neglected to notice gwaynes motions. she craned her head to the side to look at him, to find the reassurance, the praise she needed. she looked to the side and found gwayne, with his cock free, one of his hands caressing up and down, in tandem with the movements of her hips. she gasped at the sight.

gwayne looked at her, alerted by the sinful sound. the princess had shifted her position, hands to the back of the pillow, holding it in place to match her thrusts. her face was twisted in pure acstasy, head fallen back, hair tusslibg down her back, exposing her neck. gwaynes free hand flew to her face once again, pulling it onot his, kissing her.

this time it was different. their previous kiss was sweet, chaste and very brief. it was but a way for him to shut her up after all. this time it was opposite, his lips attacked hers, passion and need pouring from every one of his movements. a particularly pleasurable drag of her hips sent a gasp to her mouth, an opportunity for gwayne to intrude her mouth with his tongue.

the more they kissed the more debauched she became, the previous tension in her stomach replaced with a new one, a ball of pressure building in her loins with every movement. the more they kissed the more she understood what to do with her mouth, tongue mimicking the motions of gwayne, leading him to leave a low groan. he pulled away whispering "you will be the death of me".

by now the tension was almost unbearable, her thighs began to shake involuntarily, it was strange, far too strange and far too much, but she wanted not to disapoint "gwayne i-"

"shhh, i know sweet girl, its ok, keep going" and she did just that. her movements got sloppier, thighs by this point tired, exhaustion fighting a battle with her need to please. she let out a particularly pathetic mewl "gwayne, gwayne please, what"

"i know, i know. let go, its ok.." he replied, placing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, sweet and chaste, the antithesis of what his words had urged. the princess heeded his instruction, letting go. a sweet sensation took over her body, pleasure errupting in her stomach, through her veins, consuming every single of her limbs. she could hardly control her bdoy, movements halting, brows knitting together, moans escaping her mouth freely, almost as loud as the ones in the brothel.

gwaynes mouth found hers once again, mufflig her moans somewhat. his hand abandoned his cock, im favour of taking the princess in his arms. she was trmbling slightly still, the moment she felt his skin on hers crubling in his embrace. with care, he repositioned her to lay down on the bed, now so pliable in his hands, the nervous jittering girls present just minutes ago gone. he himslef moved, laying on top of her, staring at her face.

he could writte ballads to her beauty, entire novels to the way her forhead creased. her hair tussled around her head like a halo, white reflecting the light of the moon through the window and the candle of the bedstand in a dance of shadow and shimmer. his hands moved to her hair, playing with it, tangling in the waves of silver. slowly, so slowly, he dragged then down, brushing hair them from her exposed collarbone, lowering to her breasts, cupping them, sending a jolt through the princesses body and a whine through her mouth.

"you did such a good job my sweet." he continued, lowering his face to press featherlight kissed to her neck "there is so much i could show you... so much more i could teatch you." his words were sealed with a squeeze of her breasts eliciting yet another moan from the princess. "alas... i cannot, you know we cannot"

"but why ?" her questin came as a desperate whine. gwayne bfelt a pang of guilt in his chest, he had oppened a box of doom, one he could not seal. his desire ran a hot stream though his veing urging him to abandon his gods and worship her in their stead. but his divine calling, be it the princess or the seven, was to exist in tandem with the laws of men, and they allowed no such behaviours.

he took her legs, manhandling them across his lap, her body worming its was to his embrace. one hand rubbing smooth circles on her ankles, the other took her head, hiding it in the crook of his neck. he shushed her little whines, holding back with every morcel of his sanity. " i know sweet girl... but it would not be right to do what you ask of me. i cannot make speeches of duty, the gods only know i abandoned such a notion the second i lay my eyes upon you. you have come and turned all i knew upside down. i have not done right by you, not in the eyes of the law, not in the eyes of the seven. but, we ,ay yet salvadge our situation, yes ?"

her head made a move to look at him, perhaps to speak her mind but he prevented that, hold firm on her form. "do not worry yourself with such matters, yes ? sleep, my sweet girl and i shall take care of it"

her mind was still heavy with thoughts but alas, physical and mentall exersion would not allow for her to be arguementative at this time. she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, secure and unashamed in the hold of her knight.

gwayne could hear her breathing even out, steady inhales and exhales a song to his ears. he however, could not so easily forget his worries. the situatuin they found themselves in, or rather, the situation gwayne had put them in, was indeed precarious. if their excursion or worse their nightly endeavors were to be discovered it would end her reputation and his life. but there was a way out. he could, have her. he would have her.

and as the night progressed, sky coming full of stars, he decited, then and there, his purpose was her, her safety his duty and her hapiness wis reward. she would be his life or signal his doom, in either case, as long as she was his, he would be glad to take it.

a/n: alright yall, this took too long but im really happy with the end result. there may be minor rewrittes in the next few days, or i might release an updated version altogether. please give me your thoughts on gwaynes characterisation bc i was working with scraps.

#hotd #house of the dragon #team green #hotd s2 #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #gwayne hightower #gwayne x reader #gwayne x you #team black #house targaryen #house hightower #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire

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ladyoftheblades · 2 months

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its officially by birthday 😗😗 as a gift i would like the hotd writters to stop assasinating the characters of rhaenyra alicent and aemond, and generally to quit this thinly veiled fanfiction they have concucted as opposed to the supposed-to-be cannon show they promised

(also gwayne x reader coming very soon)

#hotd #house of the dragon #team green #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #hotd s2 #gwayne hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenicent

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ladyoftheblades · 2 months

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SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR THE NEW HOTD EP !!!

WE GOT TESSARION CRUMBS BABY LETS GO. idk about hugh or vermothor whatever, finally we get to see the blue queen and daeron 🎉🎉🎉 istg if its just dreamfyre i will cry (i love dreamfyre and helaena btw just excited for my fav tg character)

#house targaryen #hotd s2 #hotd #house of the dragon #team green #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #tessarion #dreamfyre #daeron targaryen #aegon ii targaryen

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ladyoftheblades · 2 months

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Oath of Devotion

Kingsguard Gwayne Hightower x Queen Reader

Tags: angst, mention of SA, romantic tension, pining, forbidden relationship, hint of religious guilt, oral sex (female receiving), p. in v. sex, hopeful ending, third person narrative

Wordcount: 9,440 (I blame Freddie Fox for this madness)

As King Aegon is slowly dying from his injuries, his pregnant wife finds solace in Ser Gwayne's company. One night as the birth approaches, she confesses a terrible secret to the knight…

Author's Note: thank you so much to the lovely Lana who made a beautiful moodboard for this oneshot, here ♡

The Seven Kingdoms never had a Lannister Queen before the golden-haired lady had been sent to King's Landing to marry young Prince Aegon. The match had been decided quite hurriedly, as it had always been thought the eldest son of Viserys would marry his sister, but when the time came, a simple suggestion of alliance with the Westerlands by the Hand had been enough to sway the king's mind.

Strong allies were crucial for the stability of the realm, perhaps even more so than the purity of the bloodline, Otto Hightower argued, and Viserys agreed. Marriages could happen further down the line of succession to bring back dragon blood.

The dragon bloodline was safe, Viserys judged, but the realm was still weak and divided from his decision to name Rhaenyra as his heir. The Lannisters made their contempt and disagreement known many times, although never crossing the line of insolence or treason, and a match between their house and the royal house would no doubt appease them and secure their loyalty once and for all.

Therefore, on a sweltering summer day that would remain in people's minds for years to come, a carriage and a large party of armored soldiers crossed the gates of the Red Keep, bringing with them hope for peace, prosperity, as the young lady's dowry came in the shape of economic and trade treaties with the capital.

Gwayne had served his sister the dowager queen and her son after her, and when tragedy struck and a war for the succession erupted, it was ordered that he would now be sworn to the queen.

She was a bright and sweet girl, her mother-in-law often said, strong and resilient but kind and obedient, despite the occasional arrogance. The prospect of war had soothed her edges and calmed her fires, and she took the responsibilities that befell her more seriously than the young king did. She made a good queen, one that protected her people, and as the war tore the realm apart, she brought them comfort and strength.

Day after day and night after night, Gwayne shadowed the young queen as any threats against her were taken with the utmost seriousness and concern. On the other side of the Keep, brought back from the battlefield injured and without a dragon, King Aegon spent both his waking hours and resting ones in pain, a sweat taking over his body as the burns suffered at the hands of Rhaenys and her dragon spread across his skin in rashes that would never heal.

His younger brother Aemond was now regent, and as he took over with the guidance of Otto Hightower, Ser Gwayne was left to guard the queen away from matters of the realm. Even though he admitted to having felt cast away at first, hurt in his honor to be protecting a woman instead of defending his king on the battlefield, he soon came to understand that his mission was of the utmost importance.

As the queen's belly started to swell, Gwayne accepted that it was not simply a woman that he was protecting, but the future of the realm, as a male heir would secure Aegon's position further and lift the troops' morale as they fought across the lands.

It was a noble charge, a delicate one, and in Gwayne's mind, a holy one. He would keep the queen safe, insuring she would carry her child in as much safety, peace, and quiet as he could offer her, and in the end the realm might be rewarded with a new king to lead it, one with a golden crown of hair, with the soul of both a lion and a dragon.

As the queen's belly grew and the quickening was felt, the child keeping her awake at night and uncomfortable during the day, her mood soured. It was not a happy pregnancy, nor was it an easy one, and Gwayne felt for the young woman. He could see the shadows growing under her eyes, their shine becoming more dull—he didn't voice his concerns, as it was not his place.

He knew the bearing of a child could weigh heavily on a woman's mind and health. Such was a woman's curse, and a man could only pray that the gods would lift her burden.

Gwayne spent his nights in prayers, his eyes trained on the queen's door but his mind deep in pleas to the gods, reciting the texts he had learned. He prayed for an ease to come to the young woman, for relief of her pains, whether they were physical or of the mind, and for the strength to bear what was still to come. He feared she would not survive if she did not regain some sort of strength, spiritual if not any other.

Which is why his heartbeat quickened one night as the queen's first lady-in-waiting came out of the royal chambers with an unusual request.

The rooms were still lit with many candles despite the late hour, and the hearth was blazing hot and bright. She could not bear to sleep, not even to lie down, and even after two baths over the course of the evening, both with scalding water despite the Maester's recommendations, she still could not settle.

She was not one to beg nor reduce herself to ask service from her guards, and she kept to the schedule that was decided for her, but on this night, the burden was too much for her to bear silently.

"The queen wishes to visit the Sept," she heard her lady instruct the knight, but his answer wasn't the one she expected. Instead of agreeing as he usually did to everything she asked of him and leaving to attend to what he had been given, he stepped into the room and after a customary nod, spoke in a measured tone.

"The hour is too late, my queen," Gwayne tried politely, worried etched over his noble features. "Traveling through the city to the Sept is not safe."

Gwayne carried himself with pride and nobility, a quality that she had admired from the beginning, even more so when the knight had been assigned to shadow her day and night. He made the perfect sworn protector, with a non-threatening demeanor that allowed the young queen to feel at ease in his presence, as well as a galant and reverent disposition that brought warmth in her chest.

He was deferent and respectful to a fault, which is why it made her take a step back as he entered the room without being prompted or invited, and for a moment she feared he was acting on the king's orders, as the young man was his beloved nephew.

"The hour doesn't matter," she insisted, hoping her orders would be the only ones he was following. "Wake as many guards or servants as it will require."

Gwayne shifted where he stood, curling his shoulders inward and narrowing his stance, and for a second she thought he looked much younger than she knew him to be, before fright took over any affection she had for the man. "Surely whatever ails you can wait until the morning, your Grace," the man tried to placate, but a sudden burst of anger rose in her chest until she thought she might suffocate with it.

"No it cannot!" she roared, so sharply that her delicate voice broke in her throat and her maidservant flinched. Never had she seen her mistress speak as such, and it was with a trembling hand that she brought a warm cloth to the queen's cheek, delicately wiping her tears away.

"It cannot wait," she wailed, then covered her mouth in panic when her chest heaved and her stomach rose.

Her maid was quick to respond as the young queen turned and fell to her knees, surely grateful for the bucket the servant provided. She wept as she coughed and heaved, holding her stomach with one hand and gripping her maid's arm with the other.

"My queen, is it the babe? Shall I call for the Maester?" Gwayne asked worriedly, ready to bolt out of the room in search for help.

"Call for the Septon, I beg of you," she whined as the maid stroked her hair and back soothingly.

Gwayne swallowed his worried protests and nodded again, retreating from the room quietly as the queen cried and begged in whispers, a despair so sharp that it brought tears to his eyes.

From this night on, Gwayne watched his sworn charge with rapt attention, following the young queen dutifully as she visited the Sept each day, morning and evening, and prayed on her knees with a fervency rarely seen outside of the order of the Sisters. His worries he kept for himself, although they must have shown on his face, and his prayers were silent on his lips as well.

As he watched over the young woman, he prayed without words, asking the gods for wisdom and guidance so that he could protect his queen to the extent that she needed.

She was in danger, at war with a despair so profound it could only come from inside, but no matter how many hours Gwayne spent on the issue, he could not figure out what threatened the queen so much. Her marriage with King Aegon had been young and loveless as the war started, and now that the pregnancy made her position more secure, she was neither saddened by her husband's condition nor joyful at the prospect of an heir.

Something terrible was afoot, Gwayne could sense, but his imagination failed him and he could not decipher it.

Whenever the hour or the weather did not permit traveling across the city to the Sept, she instead spent time under the Weirwood, which she found comforting. Back home in Casterly Rock, the cave where the ancient tree dwelled was a place of peace and harmony for her.

One evening, as her maid and her sword protector waited on the edge of the courtyard, she wondered with sadness if she would ever see it again. She remembered the way her whispered prayers would echo in the deep chamber, as though the rock was murmuring them back to her, repeating them as a parish would repeat a Septon's sermon.

"Ser Gwayne," she suddenly called, smiling as she heard the clinging sound of his armor.

"Yes, my queen," the man answered, and his melodic voice brought a warmth to her chest.

The man was often silent, but never cold, and she enjoyed his presence more than she had initially thought. He was pious and gentle, and he had the utmost trust of the dowager queen—a trust she found herself giving him as well, as each act of loyalty brought her comfort.

Kneeling under the large tree, a book of prayer on her lap even though her thoughts had strayed, she looked up at the man and found his piercing green gaze trained on her eagerly. There sometimes was an earnestness on his features, one that endeared him to her.

"There is a Weirwood tree where you grew up, isn't there, Ser Gwayne?" she asked, and he seemed taken aback by the question.

"Yes, there is, my queen."

"Did you visit often?"

"Not often enough. I wasn't so devout in my youth, I admit."

She smiled as the ghost of a laugh passed her lips. Gwayne allowed the corner of his lips to stretch to the side, comforted by the fact that this detail of his childhood seemed to amuse the queen, and he wished he had more peaceful or cheerful memories to share with her. He had been sworn in to the Kingsguard not long after his mother's passing, and most of his childhood memories were now tainted with her loss.

"How strange for a man who was raised in the cradle of the Faith of the Seven," the queen pressed as a gust of wind blew across the courtyard.

She picked her shawl from her lap and wrapped it around her shoulders, covering her back with the bright red fabric where a golden lion was embroidered.

"Without a doubt, your grace," he replied, and it seemed she found his answer lacking.

"Do you miss it?"

"No, I don't," he answered honestly, and as her bright green eyes lifted to him once more, he continued. "I am exactly where I'm supposed to be, your grace. My life is here, serving the royal family."

"Which is also your family. You are a loyal man, Ser Gwayne. A man of honor," she praised, and she could swear she saw him blush in the dimmed light of the evening, pink erupting under the starlight spatter of his freckles.

For a moment she feared her secret would tumble out of her lips and her chest swelled with the raw emotion of it. She took a deep breath under his attentive gaze, wondering whether he would accept her confessions and bear her burden as she was forced to.

As she took in his noble features, the breeze making his copper strands dance, shame suddenly rose in her stomach and the words died on her lips before she could even give them shape. How could she even begin to voice the terrible secret that she bore, how could she ask such a devout and honorable man to keep her confidence, one that was rooted in utter disgrace and the most unholiest of acts.

Her hesitation must have shown, as the knight took a step forward and offered his arm to help her rise from the cold ground, but as he spoke she was reassured that he had not the faintest idea of the shame and self-loathing she carried.

"The hour is growing late and the air has quite a chill. Perhaps my queen would like to go back," Gwayne offered as he saw her shiver again, and she took his arm with a whispered thank you.

She rose in silence, wrapping her shawl around herself tighter as they walked back to the castle, still tormented by the moment she had just lived. She had been tempted to take the plunge into complete honesty and bare her shame to her sworn shield.

She desperately wanted to be seen, just as she viciously wished to protect her secret and her shame. The duality of such a burden weighed heavily on her, and she was afraid she would die, crushed under this unsurmountable trial.

"Shall I call for a bath to be drawn?" Gwayne asked from where he walked, always a step behind her on her right side.

"This is above your function, ser," the queen remarked casually, almost glad for the distraction. Still, her tone was almost breathless and the knight stopped for a second and dipped his head in silent apology.

"My apologies, I have overstepped," he replied in a demure voice and this time it was the queen's turn to stop. Standing under the archway leading back into the Keep, she turned to face her sword protector, an open expression of gratefulness overshadowed by her sadness.

"You have not, Ser Gwayne. I merely meant that it is unusual for a knight to concern himself with such mundane tasks."

"I concern myself with your comfort, not only your safety," Gwayne explained, keeping his eyes low in what could be interpreted as reverence, but in truth he was unsure if he could bear to look her in the eye at that moment. "You are carrying the future of the realm, after all."

"Of course," she replied, but this time her tone was clipped and cold, and by the time Gwayne raised his eyes to her, she had stepped away again. One of the layers of her shawl was floating behind her as she rushed inside and up the stairs, as though she was eager to take her leave of him.

Shame curled in his stomach as he realized he had crossed the young queen somehow, and for a moment he wondered whether she had been expecting something of him, something he had failed to deliver. He thought of her words, of her emotions that played so openly in her eyes; if one knew how to look past the regal air she gave herself as armor, and he found himself caught on a delicate edge.

He was unsure where the line between insolence and amicable conversation was, whether or not he was meant to speak of his own volition or wait for her prompting. There were times where he felt she waited for his words, as though they bore some profound meaning that soothed her.

"Did I overstep this time, my queen?" he quickly asked, their footsteps echoing in the empty stairwell.

This part of the castle was deserted at that hour, since most of the lords and ladies had retreated in their quarters for dinner, but Westerners dined at later hours, he had found out.

"No, you didn't," she assured, glancing at him over her shoulder. Curls had come loose from the breeze, bringing layers to her updo.

It wasn't until they were back in the antechambers of her quarters that Gwayne realized there were tears in her eyes, and as she turned toward him to dismiss him, her gaze looked like a forest in the rain, a storm drowning acres of pines.

"I have upset you," he stated with mild panic. "Please forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive, my good ser. I have upset myself," she replied with a smile that further concerned him. She took a breath that seemed to rattle her chest or heave her stomach, and her hand drifted to her abdomen.

Gwayne suddenly remembered the night his worries had arisen, and the question that he had kept contained for fear of being insolent suddenly pushed past his lips. "Is there something wrong with the babe?"

The young queen took a step back as though he had struck her, and heaved once more. "Now you are overstepping," she accused, tears rising in her eyes, but Gwayne knew he had found an element, if not the source, of her enduring despair.

Part of him defended that it was his duty as a sworn knight of the realm to protect the future of the crown, but he knew deep inside that his concern for the queen overtook his concern for the realm.

"I am your sworn shield, my queen, your protector. How can I protect you if I do not know what ails you?" he pushed and her hands curled into fists, holding the brightly-colored shawl in front of her like it was giving her composure.

For a suspended moment Gwayne thought she would strike him across the face or order for him to be disciplined, but she did neither. Instead, her face smoothed over and all emotions left her, like a steel vault closing. She took measured steps backward into her chambers and beckoned him inside with a quiet word.

"Leave us," she ordered to the girl who was currently preparing her bed, propping pillows and smoothing the covers. "I need a private word with Ser Gwayne."

The girl left without a word, barely a quick curtsy, leaving him alone with the queen. She looked strangely calm, all of her emotions swimming in her eyes behind her blank expression. She walked to the fire, observing it for a moment as though it held the words she was looking for. The orange light illuminated her features and she spoke without looking up at Gwayne.

"Would you keep a secret for me," she whispered, as though the mere question was a treason, something reprehensible.

"I would never betray your confidence," the knight replied, his heart galloping in his chest as a wild horse. He knew they were on the edge of a confession, that there would be no coming back from it—he would likely never forget her words, and she would likely see them on his face every time she looked at him.

"Swear to me," she said, barely turning her head, and her gaze was fierce and burning.

“I swear to you, my queen, upon my sacred vows, that I would never reveal your secret," he swore, shivering under the intensity of her eyes.

"You once asked if the king hurts me, do you remember what I replied?" she asked bluntly, turning to him and crossing her wrists at the top of her round belly.

"The king doesn't touch me," Gwayne recited coldly.

The queen took a deep, steadying breath, facing her burden and the gaze of her sworn shield with a courage that inspired him.

"The full truth is, the king doesn't need to touch me in order to hurt me,” she said regretfully. "He makes me... perform acts, for his viewing pleasure," she whispered with the look of a frightened deer, gauging his reaction.

He held onto his composure, relief loosening his shoulders slightly. He could easily imagine how a noble woman could feel debased by this, but what she had just confessed didn't touch the more horrible images his mind had conveyed over the last few weeks when he had wondered about her sorrows.

"There is nothing shameful about an act that was performed under duress. The shame is his," Gwayne replied fervently—he knew well enough of his nephew’s proclivities, and regretted that his temper was so ill-matched with that of his queen.

"You do not understand, Ser Gwayne. It is worse than what you are imagining,” she whispered tearily, rushing to him in desperate steps and for a mad second he thought she would reach out, place her hands on his arms.

He lifted his hands from the pommel of his sword, and her gaze quickly flitted to them as though she was considering his touch, but refrained. They remained in heavy silence for a moment, her eyes peering into his with such an intensity, he despaired words could not be shared in this way. Her lower lip trembled and she looked at him with visible heartbreak, as though she was about to bid him a definitive farewell.

"The baby isn't his,” she whispered, quiet and pleading, as though uttering those words would have the gods strike her down before she could finish her breath. "When he came back from battle, before the sweat took over his body, he already could not perform anymore," she explained, a great flush of shame upon her graceful features.

"Then, who..." Gwayne swallowed, unsure how to reconcile this terrible truth with her earlier admission. "Is it Prince Aemond?"

"Gods, I wish it was," she replied with a mirthless smile, twin tears making their way down her cheeks. "But the prince is too honorable and would have slain his brother at the mere suggestion. He would never betray Princess Helaena."

Gwayne shifted his weight, considering his next words carefully in the face of her frailty, but she spoke again before he could find them.

"Aegon had Ser Arryk scout the streets of King's Landing, rounding up the illegitimate children of Prince Daemon or King Viserys. As you surely know there are many working the docks or the brothels," she explained. "He had them brought back to the Keep for a specific purpose, and brought to his chambers one by one."

"I understand," Gwayne assured, but it seemed that now that her terrible secret was out, all the words she had kept to herself and the gods were pouring out of her sweet lips.

"Every night until my moons stopped coming," she recounted, her gaze staring into a void he could not see, her frame trembling as though the pain was cursing through her body once more. "I thought that now that I was with child, he would stop, and for a while he did. However the Maester confirmed that the child is alive and strong, and that there is no reason for me not to perform my wifely duties."

"The night you begged me to bring you to the Sept in the middle of the night..." Gwayne closed his eyes in shame, dropping his chin. Bitterness coated the roof of his mouth as he recalled the two scalding tubs of water she had had delivered to her rooms, her urgency, the way she wailed in despair when he refused to escort her to the Sept.

"I pray to the gods every night... I do not know what to pray for. I pray that it is not a son and that the future of the realm is not compromised, that a second war is not about to erupt," she sobbed, her hands coming to shield her face from his gaze. "And I pray that it is not a girl, because he will not stop until I have given him a son."

Gwayne's face contorted with her agony, and he wished he could lift the burden from her shoulders, and give it to its perpetrator. He loved his nephew—he had loved him as a prince and had often indulged his proclivities, and he loved him as king, but such depravity was beyond what he was prepared to forgive.

"Now my shame is plain for you to see, good ser," she said, looking somehow more rested than she had in weeks, her shoulders dropping in relief.

"The shame is not yours. It is his, and mine. His for betraying your honor, and decency itself, and mine for not having seen it," Gwayne replied fervently.

He took a careful step forward, too close to what was deemed appropriate, and yet she allowed him with wide eyes and parted lips, caught in the pull of his devotion. She took a deep inhale when he picked her hand up, slowly brought it to his lips, and pressed a kiss to the back of her knuckles. "I will not fail you again," he vowed, and she sighed, her small fingers curving into his hold.

He swallowed, suddenly feeling the closeness of her skin like the sun at the highest point of summer, scorching his cheeks, and he could not help himself. He pressed a second kiss to the back of her hand, feeling himself falter—his head spun as he pictured himself kissing along the delicate bones of her wrist, up her arm until he reached the soft skin at the crook of her neck.

He let go of her hand suddenly, taking a sharp step back, and at that she looked bereft; but he was sworn to protect her, and he would not tempt her into sin, no matter his desires and his conviction that he could please her as she deserved.

He saw the moment her emotions burrowed under the surface again, and her features closed over them, her face smooth as marble once more. "Would you call my maid back in?" she said, her voice firm and flat, and somehow Gwayne felt more wretched from that simple question than his own shame.

The next few weeks passed in much a similar fashion than they had before her confession, except that this time Gwayne was much more attentive to her outward signs of distress. He had hoped that the queen's confession would relieve her of much of her burden, as shame was the most wretched companion, but it seemed to have had the opposite effect, and any warmth she had once shared with him was gone.

His mind seemed to clear from the fog of yearning he had found himself caught in before her revelation, and he clung to the mission he had assigned himself as a lifeline. He stood proud and unyielding as a servant came to fetch the queen night after night, refusing for her to be summoned, even when the young man was replaced by Ser Arryk.

His devotion to the queen came in the form of his steadfastness, fueled by the ache in his chest now that he knew of her burden. It came in the form of his silent presence at the door when the time of labors came, and midwives rushed in and out of the rooms to fetch linens and water.

The girl that was born to her was pale as the moon, and yet made her mother smile as bright as the sun. Gwayne looked down at the babe with delight and fondness as he was introduced to her, his second charge, and he instantly took it on with pride.

"She looks like you, your grace," he said quietly, and the slow nod the queen gave him in return was charged. They both knew this time was only a reprieve and that her nightmare would soon start again.

"How marvelous it is, that such a pure and perfect being shall be born of such darkness," she murmured, only for him to hear, pressing her bundle closer to him.

Gwayne dipped his head until the line of propriety was crossed and he could smell the milk on both his charges. "As long as I am sworn to you, I vow that her purity will not be touched by this corrupted world."

The smile she bestowed on him at those words was as soft as a kiss, and he felt it on his face as though she had pressed it into his skin.

With the beauty of that new life shining a light on the queen, came the shadow of what would follow. As she took to her chambers to rest and bond with her baby daughter, and he guarded the door more often than he effectively guarded her. Gwayne felt a tension mount in him, scalding and bitter. It colored his tongue in a way he usually controlled, but this time he could hardly contain himself.

Words came bolting out like a wild horse one morning and he lost his grip on them and on his impulses, until he found himself waiting in the antechambers of the queen, his sheath in hand but his armor nowhere to be found. He felt unworthy of wearing it, his head down like a scolded child after the heated words the hand had spoken to him.

The heavy doors opened and he was summoned, stepping inside with his gaze tilted downward in the foolish hope of concealing his bruised cheekbone and split lip.

The rooms were bathed in the soft morning light and in the smoke from the night's candles. In the middle of those ribbons of white, the young woman sat. Upon seeing her, all shame vanished from Gwayne's chest and instead came a great conquering feeling, and he knew he would not be able to summon an honest apology for his actions.

"It was reported to me that you disrespected your lord commander," the queen said slowly, and Gwayne could only nod. There would be no use denying the truth of his deeds and his words, and he found he had no wish to conceal them from her.

"I confronted him. I asked him how he could allow the king to treat you in this way and never intervene," Gwayne said solemnly, a hint of defiance in his voice, and to his delight the queen huffed a sad laugh.

"You needn't defend my honor, ser," she said, lowering her eyes.

"Yes I do," he replied, widening his stance and looking up at her with the impertinence she knew he sometimes had.

It was the righteous insolence of nobility, of not being a simple knight of the kingsguard, come from squiring for a noble lord, but the son of the Hand to three kings. She found beauty in the way he dared step over the line, and in the impudent way he was looking at her in that instant, showing pride in what he had done.

"You have hardly been able to look at me these last few days," she murmured, licking her lips.

"You misunderstood, I am ashamed, yes, but of myself!" he cried out, taking a step towards her once more, and heat bloomed in her stomach as she remembered the last time he had allowed himself to get close to her. "I was sworn to protect you and I failed to do so."

"Ser Gwayne, you forget yourself!" she admonished, but in truth she wished to reprimand herself for the way her thoughts strayed.

Her hands came to rest on her belly and she closed her eyes, looking for composure. "I did not mean to offend you, or bring you shame," he said, quieter, his temper settling. He knew aches and pains came to her more often now that her term was near, and for all his pride at having struck his commander, he did not wish to distress her.

"You did not. My disdain for Cole is known, if anything I am grateful you spoke your truth to him," she conceded, then licked her lips over a smile that threatened to appear on her face. "I heard you bruised his face."

"I did," he replied, lifting his chin and unfurling his shoulders.

"A shame that he bruised yours," she said, rising from where she was sitting. She fumbled for a moment, troubled, but found steadiness as she dipped a handkerchief into the small basin of fresh water her maid had left on a table.

Without another thought, she came to him in quick steps and reached up, pressing the wet cotton to the split side of his lip. "Your father and nephew won't have you dismissed. We need good soldiers at this delicate time," she soothed although it was unnecessary.

She watched as Gwayne's lashes fluttered, casting shadows on his freckled face, and her chest swelled in yearning. He looked so young in that instant, without the bulky armor that kept his lean frame hidden, and she flushed as she realized she had never seen him so uncovered. Her treacherous gaze flitted downward, along the planes of his chest and stomach under the simple cotton shirt he wore, to the cream-colored trousers where a tantalizing line of buttons rested over a slight bulge.

She averted her eyes but the silent sin had been committed, and when she met Gwayne's face again, he was watching her raptly. He reached up to hold her hand against his face, leaning into her until his nose and lips were nestled in the crook of it.

"Gwayne," she murmured, forgoing his title and all propriety along with it.

His piercing eyes remained on her as his lips followed the line of her veins from her palm to the inside of her wrist and arm, uncovered from her large sleeve pooling at her elbow. They both sighed as she gently threaded her fingers through his copper mane, and a lick of heat went through her as his parted lips revealed his tongue.

She retracted her hand as though his fiery hair had burned her, tears coming to her eyes. “I was soiled, ser. Do not debase yourself," she murmured regretfully as his hand caught her elbow, keeping her close.

"You were not. You are made holier and purer to me because of the suffering you have been put through," he pressed, fervent as ever, and she desperately wanted to believe him, to cling to the reverent way with which he looked at her and hold on to whatever scraps of honor she still had.

"Please," she said, taking a few steps back and he let her go, her arm slipping out of his grasp until her fingers were falling from his, their fingertips grazing.

The cut on his lip was stinging more fiercely now, and he nodded a few times as he pressed his tongue against it subtly—he bent down and picked up the kerchief she had dropped, white tainted with a few spots of his blood, and slipped it into his pocket.

He watched feebly as she closed her eyes against hot tears, taking deep, steadying breaths until he saw her surrender spread across her face.

"The maester has informed me that my afterbirth confinement is to end, and that I may return to the King's bed," she said before she opened her eyes again, and Gwayne swallowed heavily under the implication.

“It may be over soon, my nephew won’t live to be an old king", the words fell from his lips before he could think them through.

“Hush, you must never be caught uttering those words!" she cried out, rushing to him again and pressing her hand to his mouth. "Mind your tongue, even here with me.”

Fear coursed through him and it must have shown on his face—for a second he wondered if he had willfully ignored affection she bore to the king despite his transgressions. However she shook her head, the pressure of her hand lessening until her fingertips were barely grazing his lips.

“I simply meant…" she softened. "You are safe with me and I shall keep your confidence, but I could not stand you being disgraced, or worse, if you were heard.”

The pads of her fingers lingered on his lips, and he could not help but lean into them, seeking her warmth. She gasped as the tip of his tongue came to taste the salt of her skin but did not retract her hand.

They were both breathing heavily, caught in that suspended moment, and he wondered if she would suddenly push him away as she had in the past.

"I will endeavor to remain by your side, always, my queen," he said reverently, dipping his face until his mouth was hovering over hers; such sweet lips deserved to be kissed, to be worshiped. Her fingers dropped from his face but his mouth grazed her cheek as she turned.

"Ser Gwayne, you forget your vows," she whispered.

"What are the meaning of those vows if I cannot protect you and serve you as you deserve? I am sworn to you," he pressed, his breath hot on her face, his eyes full of adoration. "I am yours. In every way you might require."

He tilted his head, seeking her mouth again, and this time she allowed him. Her fingers curled in his shirt as his mouth pressed to her gently, firm but chaste, his lips molding perfectly against hers. He waited with batted breath as she pressed back, letting her guide him, sighing quietly as she pulled back only to push herself up on her toes and kiss him again.

Ever mindful of how delicate she was, he wrapped an arm around her waist softly, enjoying the delighted sigh that came from her parted lips, and the way she melted against him as his tongue prodded hers. Her hand was back in his hair, carding through the thin strands and making the back of his neck prickle, while she tasted his passion and explored his lips with hers.

He was gentle and slow, yielding to her instead of taking, but she could feel the tremble of his body as he restrained his desires.

The healing touch of her sworn protector turned firmer as her hands pressed into the muscle of his chest, and she felt him quiver as she followed the plane of his flat stomach until she reached his waist. His belt was somewhere else with the rest of his armor and she delighted in the softness of his clothes, the ease with which she could reach his skin.

He pressed his moan into her mouth, his tongue curling against hers as her fingers fell to the buttons of his breeches. He buried his face in her neck as she boldly curled her hand over him; he encouraged her, his own hand coming to rest at her bottom.

She rubbed him through the linen, feeling the weight of his stones and the length of his shaft; she relished in how it hardened in her palm. For once she had a choice, and in her arms was leaning a man that desired her, adored her beyond the shadow of a doubt. In his arms, she felt free, cherished—she soared as he moaned aloud when the heel of her hand pressed harder against his tip.

He widened his stance and heat washed over her as he did so.

"Your grace," he murmured in her neck, his voice edging on a whine, pleading and reverent.

"Not here," she whispered in his ear, breathing in the scent of his hair, sweat and soap. "I'm not your queen here. Please."

"You're always my queen..." he replied, his mouth pressing hot, wet kisses along the column of her throat, down into the collar of the gown she was wearing. "My lady of light."

His eyes were clear and piercing as he looked up, his fingers following the path of the tight laces until they found the knot at the base of her neck and pulled. She held his head to her chest, then to her abdomen as he removed the laces expertly, taking her dress and shift down as he went. She shivered as his hair grazed her breasts, his mouth following an invisible line from her collarbones to her navel.

Finally, as his knees hit the floorboards and two rings of fabric laid at her feet, did he look up again. His eyes were dark, blown wide, his cheeks flushed a dark pink and his lips parted on a sigh that could have been her name.

"Gwayne," she called, and he went swiftly, rising gracefully and picking her up, her legs around his waist. Her silk slippers fell to the floor as he brought her to the bed, his breath in her mouth and her core flush with his abdomen.

He laid her down on the edge of the bed with a care that brought tears to her eyes and kneeled in front of her once more. He picked up her feet one by one, and after removing her stockings, kissed one of her ankles, his lashes fluttering.

"Look at me," he said, his gentle tone bordering on commanding and it made her shiver.

She was so used to having him at her call, obeying her every whim, and it felt good to lay back and allow him to take the reins. This control she was giving him didn't make her feel afraid, in fact she relished in it, and in the trust she had in him.

He kissed her ankle, then her knee, pushing her leg up until it came to rest over his shoulder, and finally, he reached the place she so desperately wanted him to kiss.

She braced despite herself, but gasped when the press of his lips was merely a graze, the gentlest of kisses. It made her shudder, a blazing path running from her core up her spine, and she found herself rocking up against him, seeking more friction.

"Oh gods, Gwayne," she sighed as he kissed her pearl firmly, the very place she touched when the night was thick and she was alone, closing her eyes to visions of piercing green eyes and fiery hair.

She watched him as he savored her, his tongue coming to lick a careful strip up her folds, then prodded past the soft flesh to find her most sensitive spots. Soon she couldn't hold herself upright and fell to the sheets, her hands tangling in his luscious hair as her legs curled over his shoulders.

The cut on his lip stung but he ignored it, if anything the low burn incensed him, as though it was a mark of his devotion. She arched her back as he flattened his tongue on her core, and he felt her legs shake over his shoulders, her heels digging into his upper back.

"Gwayne," she whined, her grip tightening on his hair.

"Let go," he pleaded, desperate to feel her peak under his mouth.

Curling his hands around her thighs, caged between her knees, he savored the ache in his jaw as she rocked back against him, gently then more pressing. He felt a tension mount in him as she grew stiffer under his grip, frantic, her body tight like the rope of a bow until it snapped.

She cried out as Gwayne's tongue pulled shudder after shudder of pure ecstasy from her pearl, irradiating her entire body. Heat spread in her core, her most intimate place pulsing with molten waves, curling her toes and arching her back.

As she regained her breath, Gwayne was kissing the inside of her thigh, one of his hands stroking her soothingly while his other was busy between his legs, no doubt working the buttons of his breeches.

"Allow me," she panted, and he obeyed without hesitation; he climbed after her on the bed, his hips on either side of her and she reached up. Her trembling fingers fumbled with the tight buttons for a moment, and by the sight of her knight holding himself over her, his head hanging between his shaking shoulders.

He climbed off the bed as soon as the buttons were undone, pulling his shirt over his head and messing his copper strands even more. She found herself mesmerized by them, wanting to card her fingers through them again as he took his pleasure this time. She traced the curves and planes of his upper body with her eyes—from his defined shoulders to the swell of his pectoral and the carved lines of his abdomen.

Time slowed as they both looked at one another, her gaze caught by the open lapels of his breeches, showing the tented line of his small clothes, while his own gaze was running appreciatively over her curves. Pleasure had left a sheen over her skin, her breasts were peaked, and the long lines of her legs led him to the apex of her thighs where he now dreamed to bury more than his mouth.

Gwayne hesitated—serving and pleasuring her on his knees was one thing, but laying atop her, breaching her and seeking his own peak was another. "Are you certain?" he asked, and he saw hesitation spread over her face in turn, her cheeks flushing in shame.

He licked his lips. "I've broken my vows before, I am not proud of it, but..."

"I've thought of you," she confessed. "To make my nightmares endurable, to make my solitude bearable..." she trailed, then lowered herself to her elbows once more, bringing her knees up to part them.

Without a second thought he pulled his boots off, and soon a pile of rough cloth and linen was joining it, and he stood fully bare in front of his queen.

"Wait," she said timidly as he stepped forward, ready to join her again, and he shivered as he realized she meant to look upon him a moment more.

He flattened one of his hands on his stomach, hoping to soothe the throbbing of his cock. It stood hard and leaking, pink at the tip, his stones heavy under the shaft. He bit his lip as she watched, her eyes blown wide in obvious pleasure as he succumbed to temptation and gave himself a slow pull, but instead of soothing the ache, it made his skin stretch tighter over his hardness.

"Do you ever think of me?" she asked, more brazen than she was a second ago, and her newfound confidence excited him.

He shook his head. "I faltered a few times but I never allowed myself. Not fully," he confessed.

"Would you do it now?" she asked, and he knew there was more to it than simply a woman asking to watch a man—it was a wounded girl taking back her power, taking her place as the one in charge for once, and he felt more honored than when he had taken his vows that she felt safe enough to ask it of him.

"You can refuse," she added, and her care broke his heart. He shook his head again.

"I wouldn't refuse you that," he said, starting a slow rhythm, his skin prickling with excitement as she watched him take pleasure by his own hand. He felt his face and chest flush and he widened his stance slightly, only for the satisfaction of seeing her press her knees together at the gesture.

"Gwayne," she called again, and he knew he would never tire of her saying his name in this way, breathless and adoring.

"One time in the Sept, you caught me watching you, praying on your knees," he reminded her.

"You blushed, I had never seen you so flustered," she chuckled, then bit her lip as his hand sped up.

"I thought of it that night, and I could hardly help myself," he recounted. "I asked a brother to take his place at the watch, else I'd have sinned against you."

"It's not a sin to desire me," she said, then pushed herself further back onto the bed, and he followed her silent call.

He crawled after her, coming to kneel on the sheets, his hand still lazily stroking his length. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he bent forward, and he captured her mouth in a passionate kiss.

She let him press her into the sheets, and they shared a moan when her knees came up to his hips, her thighs resting against his. He let go of his cock to steady himself, his arms caging her in. Soon her hands were roaming his back, his flanks, mapping the shape of his buttocks, pressing him forward until he was flush against her core.

He gasped then, rocking down against her, quivering in her grasp when one of her hands slid between their bodies and guided him to her entrance. His face tucked against hers, breathing into each other's cheek, savoring the first slow press of his cock into her.

He let her guide him, first as the tip breached past the dip that led into her body, then as the stretch made her gasp. He bit his lip as her walls molded perfectly around his length and she clenched, taking him in slowly. He audibly gasped as he bottomed out and she kissed it from his lips with a smile.

They both looked down between their bodies as they rocked cautiously together, but soon her gaze was caught on his face, alive with pleasure. His eyes were closed, his brow smoothed over in delight, his pink lips parted over sweet sighs that he could barely restrain.

Soon she couldn't keep her own eyes open, so taken with his warmth as she was—she fell against the sheets, arching her back against the delicious weight of him. The gentle way with which he was thrusting into her was easing her into it, a slow build of heat at her core.

He dipped his head into her neck, and his lovely moans in her ear only spurred her on. He pressed soft kisses into her skin, seeking the soft spot behind her jaw that made her mewl and grip his back harder.

"My love," the confession slipped from his lips and she gasped, tightening her hold on him, her legs coming to wrap around his waist.

Incensed by her reaction, he murmured it again in her ear and one of her hands slithered back into his hair, pulling him in for another wet kiss that left him breathless. They swallowed each other's names, their tongues curling in time with the rocking of their hips, and their rhythm gradually sped up.

Gwayne could feel a tension building at the base of his spine and he bit his lip, trying to keep it at bay until she was herself in the throes of it, or perhaps even on the edge. He reached down to one of her thighs, propping her leg up until it was almost curled at his shoulder, the back of her knee kept in the crook of his elbow.

The new angle made her nub catch against his abdomen, and he held steady as she ground up against him, chasing the dual sensation. Between the stretch of his cock inside of her, sending sparks up her spine, and the pressure at her pearl, setting her whole core ablaze, she could only surrender and allow the current to take her.

"Gwayne," she whined as she felt herself fall, the edge ever so close.

"I love you," he replied, his own peak approaching and loosening his tongue.

She sobbed and he licked it from her mouth, the grinding of her hips turning frantic as she grew wetter around him. He wanted to laugh, victorious that she would accept his love and have such a deep, carnal reaction to it. Her mouth fell open on a silent cry, her back arching as she threw her head back onto the sheets, her core pulsing around his cock.

He held on, groaning through gritted teeth as his peak threatened to crash over him but he held on until the frantic rocking of her hips slowed to a stop and she grew loose and pliant. He pulled away and she clenched around the sudden loss, whining as the last waves of her pleasure still made her shudder.

She watched as he spent across her belly with a few moans and whimpers, his hair falling into his eyes as his hips stuttered into his own hand.

She mewled as he fell forward, pressing grateful kisses into her chest as her own hands mapped his shoulders, eager to share a few more moments of bliss. She pulled him in by the back of the neck and he kissed her again, sweet and slow.

"Allow me," he said as he pulled away again, this time climbing off the bed in search of a cloth and water to clean her skin.

She sat up, taking stock of the cooling seed on her stomach, and risking a glance to his lean back and buttocks as he turned. He was littered with freckles as stars on the night sky, and she wanted to tell him, but suddenly her words were caught in her throat.

"Are you sore?" he asked almost timidly as he returned with a wet cloth and wiped her skin clean, then folded it and gave her a gentle pat between her legs.

"No," she replied, looking up at him with something akin to adoration.

She sighed pleasantly as he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, his thumb coming to stroke the side of her face, the edge of her smile—she reached up to do the same, grazing the cut that had brought him to her in the first place.

"Do not ever let anyone touch you in this way," she murmured, and he huffed an endeared laugh.

"I swore to ward you and give my blood for you," he replied.

"Cole doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as you," she pressed, her brow furrowing in earnestness.

Gwayne grew serious again, but didn't pull away until he had kissed her temple and murmured his love once more. She watched as he dressed again, their silence rather contemplative, until a knock at the door interrupted it.

He turned to her, a slight panic to his gaze and she slid from the bed quickly, picking up a robe from the back of a chair. "Hold!" she shouted. "Merely a moment!"

Yet the knock started again, more frantic this time, and she threw a look to Gwayne, gesturing from him to remain behind the screen that shielded her bed from the entrance of her chambers.

"Who is it?" she called. "I am in no condition to receive visitors."

At that the door opened and a sliver of a pale face and dark head of hair appeared—the young queen ushered the maid in quickly, and from his hiding spot behind the screen, Gwayne could only hear hushed voices.

A heavy silence settled before the door opened again and quiet footsteps hurried out. The wood creaked loudly as it was closed, the silence broken by a wavering sigh from the queen.

Gwayne took a few tentative steps further into the room, squaring his shoulders and bracing for a terrible announcement, but when she turned to him, her face was one of utter relief.

She breathed a wet laugh, holding her hands to her chest as her eyes brimmed with tears. Gwayne felt breathless, hope and joy bursting in his chest as she spoke.

"You shall need your armor again, Ser Gwayne. The Prince Regent is calling an assembly in the Throne Room," she announced, and he couldn't have been less surprised. "It is all but a coup, my good ser."

"Long live King Aemond," he murmured as she picked up his sheathed sword and handed it to him, their fingers tangling over the engraved pommel.

Dividers by @/saradika

Beta read by the wonderful @arcielee, thank you so much ♡♡

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ladyoftheblades · 2 months

Text

comfort

aegontargaryen x aemondswife!reader

synopsis: the war had caused a shift in aemond, brothel visits, questionable behaviour toward his family most of all his brother, and now news of his lover. his wife had had enough, turning her attention to a lover of her own,none other than the king

a/n: i really hate this but wanted to get it out of the way to focus on new things 😙i finished this drunk off of cosmopolitans and crying my eyes out about my fate, so maybe aegons breakdown is a little ooc.hope you enjoy anyway. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE and im dyslexic.

warnings: smut, p in v, dacryphilia, mutual cheating, descriptions of wounds and scars(not too much tho)

it was a young and uneasy night, sunrays still gracing the sky, dousing kings landing in twilight. the princess sat at the library, the book in her hands long cast aside in favour of staring out of the window. it was a useless thing anyhow, having done little to ease her worries. today was the day she was excpecting news of her husband, aemond targaryen, to arrive from harrenhall.

she knew the rumors surrounding the castle, it was a cursed place, full of mysteries and withcraft. it was especially dangerous for targaryens, since the time of the conquest when aegon burned it down.

aemond had gone to claim it in his brothers name. but the hour ran late yet the messenger had not come. she sat and stared, all of the worst scenarios playing in her head, turning and swirling her thoughts, sending waves of nausea to her stomach.

truth be told, her husband had displayed some very unusual behaviour of late. since the murder of luke by aemonds own hand, he had taken to visiting a brothel in the city. her immediate reaction was one of anger but once her confidants informed her he was visiting the same madam, a woman named silvy, the one who lay with him for the fist time when he was but a child of three and ten, she understood. his actions were not born of lust but of trauma. he had always treated her with respect and love, so in spite of her initial anger she found it in her heart to forgive him, to overlook his slight.

but his strange behaviour had not ended there. the war was taking a toll on him, she could tell. he always had a violent streak, yet he held great mastery over it, always calm and collected, only rarely losing control. the war brought out those tendansies, warping him into a beast of unquenched anger. after the battle of rooks rest, due to his brothers injuries he had been named prince regent which only expedited the change in him.

the battle of rooks rest was the oddest of the ocuurances. princess rhaenys had passed, killed by the joined efforts of aemond and aegon, the king and his dragon sustained grave injuries, incapacitating them fully, yet aemond and vaghar came out of it almost completely unscathed. the lady attempted to coax her husband into talking about the battle, yet every mention of it caused him to break out in a fit of anger or storm out of the room immedietly.

not one soul but aemond could give a complete account of the events, for the king refused to speak with anyone, stating he needed rest. but the account aemond gave was....lackluster. something was off, piesces loose on the tapestry he had paited of the events. if one could poke at it it was sure to come undone, yet the regent allowed none of it. the small council could raise little question, he was -for all intents and purposes- their soveirgn after all.

time went on, the sun hiding behind the western sea, taking all semblances of light with it, the sky now completely black. quite an unpleasant sight. a knock sounded at the door, the princesses heart began to race with unparalleled anxiety "enter, please" she shouted.

she had excpected an envoy from harenhall, one appointed by her, yet none came, in stepped the master of whisperers, lord larys strong. "my lady" he greeted, giving his best bow. "lord larys. i excpected an envoy from harenhall, have you come in his stead ?"

"yes, my lady" he walked further into the room, slowly reaching her spot by the window, taking a seat with great effort. "i must inform you, the nature of the information...is quite sensitive" her anxiety shot through the roof, chest thumping at a hundred kilometers an hour.

"has something happened to my husband ?" she said urgently. "do not fret my lady, the regent is in good health" the air shifted, her anxiety had calmed but something else, something more unsettling took over. what could possibly be of such sensitive nature ?

"go on" she said. "my informats have made me aware of the princes recent behaviours, since taking control of the caste, maybe even pre-"

"oh quit your theatrics and spit it out" her tone was now damn near yelling. the man infrotny of her was stalling, but games of court had no place in the concerns of a wife at alarm. larys took a deap breath "your husband has taken a lover, her name is alys rivers. i am told she works as a milkmaid in the castle, though rumors have it she is a witch"

her heart almost stopped. a lover ? she could excuse silvy, they shared a certain history. a lover ? a paramour ? one that was unpaid, and there to whisper in his ears the gods only know what ? too far. she stood up suddently and began to pace back and forth infron of the window. she continued that way quite a while, not uttering a single word, only flailing her hands in erratic movements, trying to wrap her head around the information, attempting to make sense of the storm of information now revealed to her. larys remained calm. his composure was almost...unnerving.

eventually he attempted to pull her out of her trance "i understand this must come as quite a shock, shall i call for a maester my lady ?" she halted her movements immedietly, regaining contact with reality, yet ever in internal disarray. "no, that is quite alright my lord. who else knows of this ?"

"no one, of yet. i came to inform you first, though i doubt it will remain private for much longer" she looked to larys, a knowing look in his mischievous eyes. information was his trade, and he had provided elite services, a reward was in order. "i thank you for your service lord larys, you may take your leave, your loyalty will not be forgotten, i assure you" with that he was satisfied, giving a final bow, he exited.

with the bang of the door agains its frame announcing larys exit, the emotions hit her all the same. what was she to do ? this was not her husband. war changed the souls of men, bringing forth the worst of their humanity. the brothels she could forgive, the anger excuse, hells she could even overlook the lover, but all three combined ? an insult. a hurtfull, heartbreaking insult, one that could not go unaccouted for.

she had yet to bear aemond any children, if this whore were to come with child, if she was to have a son, it would put her position in danger. semblances of solutions to mend the problem, to find her an explaination at the lest, flew around in her mind, yet she was far too disturbed to give any of them proper consideration. still in that strange trance of betrayal, she began to walk.

her feet acted on their own, unattatche dand seemingly unaffected by the storm that was her mind. they took her out of the library, tracing a path around the red keep. she walked and walked and the more she walked the more she thought and the more she thought the clearer her head became.

power was getting to aemonds head but he was not the ultimate authority, the king was. the root of her husbands behaviour was the death, or rather the murder, of lucerys but rooks rest was the turning point. if he would not provide an explaination, his brother would.

she had shared few words with her brother in law, far and inbetween, aemond always coming inbetween them to root out whatever semblance of a relationship they began to create before it could sprout. but he was pleasant, a little inappropriate in his jests and brash to a fault. he spoke his mind, did as he pleased, with no mind for consequences. the only thing that kept him alive quite frankly, was his position as the fist son, now king. all those qualities, once considered faults, now sounded refreshing. a stark contrast to the lies and masked intentions of others.

the king had locked himself away from the world following the battle of rooks rest. she had heard the whispers of his state, his appearance made up to be groutesque and unnerving. "unlike anything come of our realm" she had overheard one maidservant say.

she traced a path to the kings chambers. security was never strong in the keep anyway and she had memorised the schedule of the changing guard. she reached the hallway of his chambers just as the guards were tuning the other end.

she hadnt much time, begining to advance when suddently three maids exited the chambers in coplete dissaray, clothes soaked and the king audibly yelling from inside the rooms. they began to run in the opposite direction, their voices somewhere between whispers and shrieks, full of terror. something was amiss with the king, even mose so than usual. no matter, she could use the opportunity.

slowly she walked to the rooms, quietly slipping through the door.

"I SAID LEAVE" shouted aegon imedietly upon sensing her presance. the sight infront of her was truly something... the king lay in his tub, his back to her, watter spilled all around, no doubt by whatever had transipired beforehand. his body had been badly burned, maelys managed to damage his body so much, armour melted into his skin. even with his back to her, tub obscuring his visage, the damage to his shoulder and neck was visible.

she took a step forth "im sorry to disturb your grace though i believe you never asked me to exit". upon hearing her voice aegon made an attempt to crane his neck and look at her, the tension to his burns making him wince in pain, immedietly turning back around.

"please, your grace, do not exert yourself" she said, tentatively approaching. she soon reached him, finally able to look at him whole. the water obscured his visage from the waist down but the sight of his face and chest made her heart swell with hurt. the burns consumed the entire left side of his chest, expanding to his neck, fully engulfing the side of his face, even parts of his nose.

thought what struck her most was not his gruesome burns, he was far from such. in spite of the burns his face held a certain beauty, even on the scarred side.

he moved, ignoring the pain, turning away from her quizical gaze. "please, leave, just leave..." none of the previous anger was present, voice laced with only sadness and embarassment. he was voulnerable, oh so voulnerable, exposed, completely at the mercy of the world and his surroundings. she took the kings aversion as a challenge. "oh your grace, please, allow me"

she fell to her knees, the fabric of her dress becoming wet at contact with the floor. "i have no need of your pity" he muttered, face still turned. "i do not pity you, your grace, the scars of war are to be worn as a badge of honor, as proof of your bravery"

she could not see his face still but something told her he did not share that same oppinion. his burns had healed in their majority, forming an angry red scar. some areas remained sensitive, mostly underneath his arm, must be the parts where metal melted into him, she thought. she looked to the desk behind her, an assortment of ointments placed atop.

she looked to the labels on them, spotting one which wrote "after bath". she took it and oppened the top, the smell surprisingly pleasant. "did the maesters instruct a certain ammount be used ?" aegon shook his head no. he was still somewhat uneasy, yet did not deny the assistance.

she put some on her hands and began to apply it to his torso. it must have worked instantaniously for the king eased, becoming accostumed to her presance, and moved his head to finally look at her. she did not return his gaze however, only continuing her movements.

he studied her hands with searing intensity, periodicaly giving satisfied hums. they kept like that a while, the king growing more and more comfortable as time went on. untill she reached his face.

by now it was near impossible not to look at him, yet she resisted. she completed his cheek, and moved to the area around his eye. before she could contunue though, he raised his good hand from the water and grabed hers. his fingers wrapped around her wrist threatening to leave a bruise. she paused, ever so cautious. "y-your grace, i cannot continue if-"

"Look at me." he comanded. she complied, finally looking in his eyes. they were absolutely beautifull, grayish blue hues morroring those of the sea on a moody day, color only accentuated by the candelight. they hid something, something intense yet he dared not reveal it to her, as if her learning of it would embarass him.

"what do you see when you look at me ?" he asked. she was somewhat taken aback by such a question, still she made no attempt to back away, in too deep already. whatever the king wanted she had to comply with. she took a moment to think, knowing the wrong answer might cost her her life. " a boy"

"is that how you see your king truly ? as a boy ?"

"my king is a fierce and brave warrior forged by fire and blood, the one infront of me named aegon targaryen is a boy"

his face began to change, the walls built around his soul slowly coming down, eyes verging on betraying their secret. he removed his hand from her wrist, allowing her to contunie apllying the ointment. she brought her hand forth to his eye, the king leaving a sigh of relief, tilting his head back. she turned around to place the jar to its place, by the time she turned to aegon once again he was looking right at her, head tilted back, eyes dark and playfull. if she looked closely she could even see a smile playing at his lips.

"comfortable, your grace ?" she said, attempting to match his playfulness. he gave a chuckle "very. you my lady ?"

"very" she mirrored his reply. she closed the distance between them, now putting her hand on the good side of his chest, begining to rub soothing circles on his alabaster skin. he enjoyed the contact, she could tell, the smile on his lips turning from one of mischief to one of satisfaction. she knew she could not keep it up for long, her visit was now devoid of purpose, she would have to come up with soemthing quick-

"i never did ask, why are you here ?" he broke her train of thought. she stopped the movement of her hand, moving it instead to play with his hair.

"i have been discarded by my husband im afraid and ... i understood you to be in a similar position. i thought... i thought maybe we could be alone together" she looked straight to his eyes as she uttered that, finalising her last word with an afectionate tuck of his hair beneath his ear. she waited, frozen, afraid of having said the wrong thing, the one that would set him off. yet as time passed, tortourously, kicking her gut harder and harder as it went on, his demeanor went unchanged.

"at first you think me a boy, and now discarded. i ought to have your tongue for that" he moved his hand, the scarred one, to cradle her chin as he delivered his words. yet his toutch was neither threatening, nor malicious. no, he was playing, he wanted a game but more than that.... he was looking for something in her. comfort she had provided already, trust, perhaps ?

she made no attempt to remove her face from his hand, the contact sending shocks through her body... it had been a while since her and her husband had been intimate... the sole attention of the king was something else entirely. "are you not, then ? discarded ? are you not lonely ?"

the game was on. he seized her up, looking to find what he wanted, she spoke again "if you have no need of company, should i take my leave ?" immedietly his fingers dug into her skin "i said no such thing" she gave a smile of satisfaction.

"you admit it then, you are lonely, just as i" her voice was laced with nothing but warmth, coaxing out of aegon his true nature, breaking down any remainants of walls around his heart. "just as you" he spoke, voice but a whisper, a glint of recognition in his eyes.

"we are one in the same. i see you as you are" her words rang true, they were one in the same, cast aside, stripped of their agency, starved of affection, all due to aemond. a wave of boldness washed over her. she moved closer to aegon, head resting on his shoulder, cautious not to disturb any parts not yet healed.

"why did you so rudely dismiss your maids ?" he took in a sharp breath "they thought of me as a beast. i saw it in their eyes, the disgust. besides, they knew not what they were doing, before they even began i could smell the incompetence. i could not allow they stay"

"then why allow me ?" she said, craning her head, looking now to his eyes. "i can trust you. as you said... you see me." she gave a small smile. he drank up the encouragement like a man starved.

"we may help eachother then. i see something troubles you, tell me my king, how may i be of assistance ?"

"my troubles are no secret, these scars trouble me, my face, my... my incapacitation." "oh aegon" she uttered quickly, moving from her spot on the floor, still on her knees, standing behind her king now, hands snaking around his shoulders unashamedly. her head went to his good side, chin toutching shoulder. "aemond may be regent but you... you remain king. ofcourse you are capable, you may rule from your own bed if you wish, council be damned."

a sob rattled his body. she pressed her arms further into him, attempting to stiffle his sadness for every tear of his shook her to her core. something about this man, with all the power of the realm at his fingertips being so voulnerable, putting his heart in her hands and trusting her to protect it, something aemond had not once done, it made her wish to hold onto him and never let go.

he began to weep openly, hiding his face in the crook of her arms. everyone looked at him and saw only what they wanted, be it a king, a rake, an incompetent fool... no one saw him for him, not even his own mother could recognise the pain festering in his body, the unfairness of the situation she put him in. he was given all the power in the realm with no say of his own fate. destined to live a life soely for the sake of others, faithfully serving the realm, his family, his mother, his counsil, never making a choice for his own. and then he was punished for it, punished for all he had no input in, by none other than his own brother, his own blood. ofcourse she knew naught of it, but the way she held him, so tight, so firm, as if she would take away all his pain and pour the love of the world on his skin the same way she had done that ointment, it only made him want to cry more, overwhelmed by the emotion.

she held him close and did not let go, not when the tears ran a salty stream on his face, not when the snot began to fill his nose,making his sobs sound all the more pathetic, not when his hands left bruising marks on her arms, possesively keeping them close, afraid they would be taken from him. she only endured, giving small tuts and shushes as well as little praises here and there.

eventually his sobs ceased, leving him sensitive, puffy faced and shuddering. she tennatively pulled her arms away, much to aegons disapointment, moving to the table once again,bringing a clean piece of cloth to his face. he took it greatfully and began to clean it somewhat.

"your grace ?"

"i just try so hard, all i do i do to please but-" tears threatened once again to spill from his pretty eyes, the princess would do anything to prevent such a thing.

"your grace, aegon, you neednt please anyone, you are far from perfect but you deserve to be treated well, to have your sacrifices recognised"

"they do not respect me"

"fuck them then. you are king, you may impose your authority over the council, you have a mind and a heart, and you can make as strategic a descision as any of them. i will be the fist to support you" his gaze fell to hers, blue eyes further acentuated by the redness brought about by his tears, mouth slightly open, heavy breaths escaping with great difficulty, his eyes from hers to her lips, to her eyes again. she moved her face forward, minimising the distance between them.

she thought of the correct words to say to comfort him, any plan of coaxing truth out of him long forgotten. she had come in with a plan, but his behaviour, his trust in her washed all of that away. she thought yet no words came to he

"aemond is a fool to hurt you"

"aemond is a fool to undermine you" his body reacted on its own, as if possesed by the emotions rooted in his chest so deep and so intense no logic could reach them, and so he kissed her.

his lips were so soft, having been spared, they moved on hers, full of raw intensity. practice attempted to prevail, aegons many conquests having taught him all he needed, yet could not, overrun by emotion. he had no control of his movements, kissing her now like a knight sworn to celibacy, unacustomed to the woea of women, wishing only to express his courtly love.

she pressed onto him harder, taking control of the kiss, hands falling to his face, one on his good side immedietly gripping his jaw, giving back the same desperation he had shown. immedietly upon the contact he oppened his mouth, leaving a whine and allowing her tongue acess. her other hand, ever so carefull not to hurt him, gently rested on his jaw, affraid of horting him.

he broke the kiss, speaking in between pants " my face is-is healed, do not hesitate just toutch me-" and so she did, ever so eager to please her king. the kiss deepened, all the sloppier, all the more desperate, all the more emotional, untill it was not enough to express their devotion.

"are-uh- are other... areas..healed, of yet ?" his face franticaly moving up and down, "yes, all the areas-" he chuckled, a hearty chuckle, such a lovely sound "all the areas of interest are healed, please "

she understood. she rose to her feet and began undoing her gown. aegon watched from his seat, staring patiently, adoration filling his beautifull ocean eyes. it took her a bit to undo the back laces of the dress, she hastily tore it from her body, heavy fabric immedietly falling to the floor, leaving her in only her small clothes, a sheer gown, off white in color, devoid of embelishments, but softly draping over her form.

her body was a painting, brought before aegon to feast his eyes upon. his patience was wearing thin. he moved his hand to toutch her, blocked by her stepping back "please, my king, allow me" he gave a small pout, obeying none the less.

she spared no time in giving him what he wanted, fulfilling finally their shared wish. one leg at a time, she entered the still-somehwat-warm water but faltered, hesitating to put her weight on him,ever so afraid of causing aegon pain.

he sensed her hesitation "its ok, just toutch me, please" desperation filled his body, threatening to chocke him, laced in every word from his lips.

she brought their faces together again, his mouth spilling desperation into hers with every kiss. her hands became unafraid, egged on by aegons words, resting on his chest, one of them reaching further and further down, tracing featherlike lines with her fingers, untill they reached where she wanted. she took aegons cock in one hand, halfhard already, leading him to release a pleading whimper. "good boy" she uttered.

caution thrown to the wind, the praise getting to his head, aegon moaned oppenly. as she began to stroke him, his moans got more and more desperate, each movement of her wrist sending waves of pleasure to his body. much like her he had been starved of affection, all sort of affection, he was desperate to take whatever she was willing to give. "oh gods-"

she shushed him by graciously placing her lips on his, resuming their previous kisses. but it was nowhere near enough for aegon. his hands found purchase on her gown, bunching up the fabric, tugging desperatly. he wanted, nay needed more. he began to tug the gown upwards, a pleading movement, asking of her to be as voulnerable as himself. she was oh so ready to provide.

she took his hands into hers, guiding them to take the gown off, finally it went up, revealng her stomach and breasts to him. immedietly he moved, taking her form into his arms, placing kisses on her colarbone, wasting no time to go lower and lower, reaching her breasts. he took a nipple in his mouth suching in tandem with her thrusts. the princess threw her head back, moaning with her full chest, uncaring of the world around them.

her hand never faltered, his cock began to twitch with his impending release. he detatched from her body, panting like a dog on a dry day, each inhale sending waves of equal parts oxygen and lust in his brain, making his vision hazy. he was not ready to give her up yet.

"p-please, please, im close"

she halted her movements. aegons disapointment traced a path from his abdomen all the way to his throat, releasing a pained whine. his hands moved on her back, clutching her sides for support, the pleasure so rudely torn from him and the previous exhaustion, leaving him stranded in the storm that is the haze in his mind.

"why my darling ? did, did i do something ?" it came out almost more as a cry than a question. "no, aegon, ofcourse not, youre perfect"

his chest fell in relief, lips immedietly finding hers, a kiss of graditude. a kiss of praise. "but im not done with you quite yet. i only wish to please my king after all"

her hand moved to his cock again, she pulled her hips down simultaniously, guiding it to her entrance. his tip barely teased her entrance and he was already a goner. he thrust his hips upwards, chasing the contact he craved so much. "patience, your grace"

she moved his tip forth, coming into contact with her pearl, sending jolts of pleasure to both of them. aegon was on the verge of becoming undone, barely clinging onto his sanity. she gave him a tutt, looking down onto her voulnerable king, his eyes already on hers, looking through his lashes, void of inhibitions and filled with unimaginable lust.

"please" he whispered, begging, such a man brought down by one woman, broken down onto the barest pesces of his soul by the world, pu to gether again by her toutch. "yes, your grace"

finally, finally, she brought her hips down. his cock entered inch by excruciating inch, untill finally she settled, having taken him whole. she resisted moving though, taking strands of silver hair on the nape of his neck, tugging his head to her chest, burrying it between her breasts. his desperatuon had reached a tipping point, this simple act sending him over the edge, sobs wreacking his body once again.

"ooh, my boy, did i pain you ?"

"it just, it feels good. youre so good to me" he muttered, head still buried in her chest and burrowing further, leaving sloppy kisses on her flesh and sucking marks surely with the intent to leave a reminder of him. "aww my darling, do not fret, i will take care of you, just you wait"

she gave his head little reassuring scratches, attempting to ground him somewhat, preparing the boy under her for what was to come. cautiously she began to move her hips. the sobs wrecking her own body just as much as his, only giving her more courage.

the water of the tub began to sway, more and more and more, she picked up her pace, moving her hands through his back, tracing the rough parts of his scars, the sensitivity of those areas adding to his pleasure. her pace picked up further, frantic hip movements rocking the entirety of the tub, the furniture begining to scratch against the floor.

aegon could take it no longer, amidst sobs and moans he began to move is own hips, matching the pace of the princess. his movements executed with no semblance of grace nor purpose, only focused on his own pleasure, seeking retribution for his lost orgasm.

the tub rocked, water splashing all around, aegons sobs turned to little whimpers, salty tears mixing with his spit on his ongoing assault to her chest. her movements began to falter, close to finishing, the white-hot pleasure in her abdomen threatening to burst. her body began to tremble lightly, yet she kept her composure, still in servitude of her king. he was in no better state, cock begining to twitch once again.

he was so so close, and not about to stand for this one to be taken away from him aswell. she took notice of the familiar signs he displayed "im close, aegon, so close"

he took this as a sign to let go, holding her body down with all the strength he could muster, forcefully, halting her movements, selfish for once, taking what he wanted. her orgasm hit her with that final forcefull push on his cock, pleasure exploding from her abdomen, rocking her body while from toes to fingers, face twisting in an expression of absolute extasy, brows knitted together and mouth slightly agape. aegon peeked from her chest, looking up to her face, illuminated by the candles, light softly cradling her features, exposing to his hungry eyes her beautifull expression, the mutters from his mouth a prayer to her beauty.

his own orgasm took over his body, sending a final sob through his mouth, a final wave of tears to his eyes, hot seed spilling inside of her.

they stayed that way a while, her hands cradling his head, his own softening on her hips, softly massaging them, attoning for the shelfish way he had taken his pleasure.

she craned her head down, giving a final kiss to his lips, soft and innocent, unlike any previously shared. he looked so utterly mesmerised by her, though he would not say it, she knew, the same as he did, she kew this meant so much to him. they remained that way, sitting in their understanding, she would do anything for her king and he anything for his lover.

she had come in search of answers to her husbands behaviour yet was left with something different, better. she had gained an ally, more than, she had gained her first genuine friend, her very own lover.

#hotd #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd s2 #team green

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ladyoftheblades · 2 months

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Ali- "was it the court or was it their mother ?"

Gwayne- "you did your best"

she was a child raising children with almost no support, she did her best to love them under the circumstances.

you may hate her for many things, but she loves those kids even though their relationship is extremely complicated.

Alicent could tear her heart out of her chest with her bare hands and bleed her guts out in the middle of the street for her children but some people would still call her a bad mother and I'm just so tired at this point

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ladyoftheblades · 2 months

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my sweet boy out for blood

#you're serving cunt? the small council does naught in the absence of the queen but grouse and claw for power and you're serving cunt?

#the sword stays during sex

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ladyoftheblades · 2 months

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HEIR APPARENT

jacaerys velaryon x aegonstwin!reader

synopsis: the realm worships firstborns, seconborn children however, especially girls, need to make their own way in the world

words: 11k (bear with me)

a/n: i realised this after i finished and was too bored to correct it, imagine rhanenyra didnt have time to propose marrige beyween reader and jacaerys due to driftmark. ALSO i havent watched the dinner scene in 2 years and i cannot find it on the sites so excuse any unorthodoxy. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE im also dyslexic :) !!!!! this was heavil inspired by the lovely @myladysapphire 's fic "seduction" which you should go read warnings: some gaslighting, dry humping, fingering, heavy petting, making out, intoxication

the birth of a child is a joyus occasion for any ordinary family, for the royal house targaryen ... not always.

it was a sunny summer day when the queen alicent went into labour, the sun shined its golden rays upon the keep making its redstone material even more beautifull. while the festivities of the tourney in the babes honor roared outside, the noise and cheers and laughter penetrated the keeps walls, filling the rooms with the joy of the celebration. all rooms but one.

alicent screamed and whrithed with the unimaginable pain of labour. viserys walked up the stairs with a newfound excitement, yet, as he reached the door of his wifes rooms he stopped. the weight of his pursuit of an heir, the one than killed his first wife hit him like an angry wave. cold sweat ran across his forhead. no, his beloved aemmas life was not in vain, rhaenyra would sit the throne, he rationalized. straightening his posture, he oppened the door.

every minute felt like eons for viserys. by the grace of the gods the babe arrived quickly. "a son, your grace" said the maester. music to viserys ears. a midwife handed him the swaddled babe. "welcome to the family aegon"said the king. enamoured by his son, it took a second before he heard his wife groaning again. "another babe !" exclaimed the maester. "another blessing" chimed in the midwife. and thus, a girl was born.

that was how the princess came into the world. a little surprise for her family. a little unwanted surprise.

as the princess grew up that was the word that defined her existance, unwanted. not abused,no, but she was not the first boy, not the heir, not even the spare. just another girl.

she came to understand her position very well, quiet and demure, refusing to cause any fuss around her existance for no one else did.

especially not her older sister rhaenyra. despite the little girls admiration for her, rhaenyra never spared her a second glance.she did not mistreat her younger sister by any means, just too busy being heir and having children of her own. she had no time for a child that was unwanted in the first place.

Her father on the other hand, downright ignored her. the excitement of having a son consumed him in those first years after their birth. there was no love left for her. soon, even that ran out and it was as if her and her brother never existed.

it did not matter though, she found solace in her other family. the queen alicent loved her daughter dearly, not absolved of ignoring her at times in favour of her brother, but it was ok, she did far more than any other. attached by the hip to aegon,they did everyting together, it was only natural, the realm viewed her as nothing but an extension of him anyway.

by the time her twelfth nameday came to be, it was widely accepted she would be married to her twin. though young she understood the implications of such a proposal. aegon, her fathers long awaited male heir, would be king and she his queen. the idea rooted in her mind. queen of the realm. the most influential woman of the seven kingdoms. it rooted and festered untill her rambition consumed her everymost descision. to her, it was only fair. all the attention she was denyed in her childhood would be atoned for. she would finaly get what she deserved.

the gods had other plans though. more like, otto hightower had other plans. rhaenyra proposed a betrothal between helaena, alicents secondborn and jacaerys her firstborn. to alicent it was an insult, one that had to be prevented by any means.

it was not difficult for otto to get the king to agree to marry helaena and aegon instead. to the king it made no difference, the affairs of his daughters whose name were not rhaenyra did not matter.

:readmore:

the news reached the princess on her way to driftmark for her aunt laenas funeral. ser otto hightower, upon the queens incistance, was tasked with breaking the news.

"that is not fair!" she shouted toward her grandsire, franticaly moving around, her erratic movements exaderated by those of the ship. "oh hush child, you know better than anyone nothing is promised in this life" he responded, calm, collected, slightly irritated.

"but i heard it, mother and lord larys, saying the marrige would sway the kind toward changing the succesion". Suddently otto rose from his seat. the princess was throwing a tantrum, a dangerous one. if word were to reach the king about their scheming to strip rhaenyra of her heritage, it could cost both his and his daughters heads. "now how did you hear such a thing?". the air had shifted, the calmnes in his voice replaced by more irritation and something new. fear, perhaps ?

"it... it matters not how i came upon the information it matters that i now know. so please explain to me why i ought to be cast aside in this way. i am a princess !"

"so is your sister. you love your sister, do you not?" "i do... but i was promided something and i plan to see it realised" diplomatic words for a child, otto thought.

"it does not matter though does it ? you understand rhaenyra is heir, yes ?" she nodded. "and your goal, as i understand, is to be queen, yes ?" he had now moved from where he was standing and was sitting next to her on the sette. she nodded again.

"you know of the favouritism your father shows rhaenyra, as he sees it she is his only child, therefore his only heir"

"but-but father wanted a son, he should be the heir" startled by ottos movements, her initial anger turned to silent disapointment, her little face pouting. "do not go around running your mouth saying such things" he responded hurriedly "you may be a princess but your neck is in as much danger as anyones" he turned to look into her eyes

"we understand the way things are, your father however is blinded by his grief. aegon is not heir, his wife will not be queen. you would not acquire the power you seek either way."

"i understand...".

Satisfied with himself for having stiffled his granddaughters tantrum, he turned away once again. "now you are free to take a husband of your choise, to seek love, is that not what all young maidens dream of ?" her pouting face remained. "love is nothing in the absence of power" otto chuckled, if only his daughter had shared that same mindset. the dragon was more hightower than he thought. "in what book did you read that now".

Before she could answer a knock sounded at the door. the queen entered, sir criston in toe. "we are to dock soon, return to your siblings at once little one" said alicent, somewhat taken aback by the sight of her dughter and father side by side. "yes your grace" said the little girl before quickly exiting.

alicent turned to her father. "i trust you were not corrupting her with any of your sheming" she stated, matter-of-factly. "trust me daughter, i did not need to... be more careful when speaking with the small council from now on, the walls have eyes in the red keep"

after docking the little princess was going through the motions of royal protocol as if possesed, certainly lacking the sort of queenly air shed carried herself with up untill that point. it no longer mattered. her dreams were shattered, all she ever wanted, all she ever hoped for, gone, in a single boat trip.

vaemond spoke yet none of his words reached her. she looked to her sister rhaenyra from across the procession. the vision of a queen, long silver hair braided in the fashions of the queen rhaenys. hugging her children close to her arms, arms meant to hold her.

no matter how much she attempted to push these feelings down, to pretend, her sisters indifference hurt, now more than ever. the longer she studied rhaenyra and the longer rhaenyra refused to spare her a single glance, she got more and more depressed. so much so she did not notice a pair of big brown eyes next to rhaenyra staring right at her.

after the procession was completed the guests started mingling, lords discussing deals, families exchanging condolances and such. as a princess of the realm she was excpected to offer her condolances to the family of the deceased, she walked forth to greet her cousins, baela and rhaena, the dragon twins. normally it would be a chance to excersise her queenly grace, now it was but another motion. "im sorry for your mother, my condolances." she spat out. "thank you, cousin" replied baela. rhaena was solemn, only looking at her shoes. her nephews standing next to her, she could not care less.

having fulfilled her duty she left without a word. no one would pay attention to the thorn of house targaryen anyway. and none did. except for those same brown eyes from earlier.

as she walked further and further away from the crowd she was greeted by the salty driftmark air. the rough cliffs and architecture were opposite of the red keeps. but it was a welcome change, the red keep was a place of lies and dissapointment.

eventually she reached a small nook amongs the salty castle walls. finally some respite. she sat on the ground and took a deep breath.silence. yet peace did not last long. soon footsteps sounded, coming toward her, untill they stopped.

she looked up. a young boy of dark eyes and darker hair. jacerys velaryon. the firstborn of her firstborn sister. his features struck her even more from up close. she knew the rumors. alicent spoke of them constantly when she thought she was not listening. she may have perpatuated some of them herself, on those bad days her sisters rejection particularly stung. she never thought of jacerys, never spoke to him, as far as she was concerned he was only an extension of her sister.

"what do you want ?" she spat courtly. "i dunno"replied jacaerys.

"its your aunts funeral you should be with your mother and siblings" "dont want to."

cautiously, he sat next to her. they stayed there a while, siletly staring at the wild waves ahead. it was...strangely comfortable. jacerys was born a few years after her and despite their both growing up in the red keep togerher, they rarely spoke. he knew nothing of his familys distaste for her, a stranger to the sins surrounding her name, ther girl doubted his mother spoke of her. to him she was practicaly a stranger.

after a while sitting in this comfortable silence, he dared speak up. "should we head back ?". "you should, i doubt anyone noted my absence"

"why ?" his voice rung with something unfamiliar to her, something akin to...concern. "you cannot note the absence of something you took no notice of in the first place" replied she solemnly. the emotion in her voice surprised even herself, something about this boy moved her. the princess did not like it. "i took notice, i mean, i followed you here" she felt his eyes on the side of her face yet did not dare return his gaze. "...thank you jacerys. why did you follow me ?"

"i thought you looked lonely" if shed turned her head sideways the princess would note him blushing. the comfortable silence returned.

prince jacerys knew not of this feeling bubbling in his chest. he had noticed his aunt during the funeral. he always took notice of her. walking around the keep, catching glimpses of her in the library after finishing her studies. his favourite part of training was gazing upon her form, framed by helaenas window, the yard had a perfect view. he always noticed her, always saw her, even when she looked elswere. his mother never bothered formally introducing them, rarely ever spoke of her. neither did his grandsire. he never went out of his way to greet her either, out of fear or nerves he did not know.

today was his window of opportunity. rhaenyra had sent him to comfort his cousins yet he could not take his mind off of his aunt. when she came and greeted baela, walking away right after, it was perfect. quickly, he dismissed himself and slipped away from everyone. the vision of her walking the tumoltous balconies of driftmark, silver hair blowing in the wind, she looked like a vision, calling him to her side. and now here he was.

neither of them knew how long they sat like that. they only knew of the feelings flowing between them. a strange sense of comfort. eventually though they had to return. she stood up first. "come on, we must head back, your mother is worried about you"

heading back they were greeted by no rhaenyra and no daemon. before jacerys could speak a word to the princess she vanished. he joined his cousins once again, they spoke to him yet he heard none of it, silently staring at the direction she dissapeared.

the princess awoke the next morning, having slept soundly that night, a certain strong face haunting her dreams. she arose from her bed and went to call for her handmaidens, yet stepping outside the room, no guard was present, confused and still foggy from sleep she put on a robe and began walking toward her good-sister helaenas room, not far from her own. stepping inside she found her sister blankly staring out of the window, not unusual for helaena. what was unusual was her complete unacnoledgment of her. cautiously she approached the window. "helaena, sister, what has happened ?" "he closed an eye.." her sister was always a bit odd, most brushed her strange words off, but the princess understood the importance of her strange visions

"helaena, please speak it to me plainly, who closed an eye ?" helaena tore her gaze from the scenery outside, vast uneasy brown eyes staring into her sisters

"aemond claimed vhagar late last night, lucerys took his eye in return"

years passed since that fateful night in driftmark. the night the house of the dragon official split in two. the two factions came to be known as the greens and the blacks.

she had grown, childhood long gone -if it ever existed-, now matured into a young woman. what never left was her feelings of betrayal. aegon and helaenas wedding took place not long after driftmark, and though she loved her sister deeply, jealousy ran deep. helaena was a fool who was handed an opportunity she could not comprehend. it took her some time to get over that day but she did, she had to.

despite ottos words on the boat, she knew better. after driftmark the greens scheming became more obvious. though she wasnt privy to all information, she knew their plans. stupid stupid otto hightower. he told her it did not matter, he told her all the things she wanted to hear, needed to hear. she hated herself for falling for his honeyed words. she was only a girl of two and ten but still. she ought to have known better. maybe, if she had put more pressure onto alicent she would have won. her resentment grew into a monster, wild and untameable, feeding on her want for the throne.

there was one other consequence of that day, she never got to see jacerys again. she never thought it would bother her before, but it did. that day, the words he spoke to her, his tone, the genuine concern laced in every sentance haunted her dreams. she dared not think about him while awake, fearful of what conclusions she may reach.

fate is funny in its ways. the uncertain parentage of rhaenyras children officialy came into question.

her sisters reckless behaviour came to bite her in the rear, the spoiled firstborn finally was to get a taste of consequences. not only that, the petitions for driftmark would require the entire family be present,including jacerys. not that she cared, no.

the view of dragons and ships approaching kings landing was perfect from the princesses window. syrax and caraxes landed near the dock, soon the family ship followed. the rest of the way they made by carrige. the lack of reception for the heir and her husband was the princesses own idea. a small revenge.

she dared not venture to the courtyard for she knew her nephews would be there. waiting instead to face them officially in the throne room.

not many are privy to the red keeps secret passageways, she was one of the lucky few. in order to avoid the courtyard she followed one such secret hall to cut through the godswood and immedietly into the throne room.

fate, as stated before, is very humorous.walking through the godswood she was greeted by her most favourite guest, rhaenyra. as her sister stood in the courtyard, for the first time in her life the princess saw her for what she was, a scared mother, a woman who knew she had a mess of her own making to clean up. there was no need for approval from such a pathetic creature.

"sister" greeted the young princess. rhaenyra turned to face her. "ah, dear sister, how are you fairing ?" dear, wow the gaul

"i am...well, it is nice of you to ask, even if for the first time." the sarcasm did not go unnoticed by rhaenyra. "times change sweet sister, attitudes are as moveable as the tides, especially within family" the tone those words were spoken in dripped with false sweetness, if it were another day she would have lapped it up, not today. today, she understood they came not from a genuine place but from a need of support.

"when family comes into question, the tides of opportunity roar, i see" surprised by her sisters words, rhaenyra stepped closer.

"i fear the circumstances of our reunion, of my arrival, are unfortunate, that does not mean we need be hostile to eachother" the younger scoffed

"the only times we reunite are under unfortunate circumatsnces. last we spoke i cannot remember, i actually cannot recall a time you struck up a conversation with me. only now, concerned with your sons succesion, when you require my help, we speak"

rhaenyra was surprised, more surprised than shed been in her life. she thought her relationship with her sister was what it had to be, what was required, the rift between their family was much vaster than shed realised.

"i am sorry for any pain i have caused you, please, let us discuss this in a manner befiting of family, i promise i am not what these people have told you" she reached for her sisters hand, immedietly the younger pulled away.

"these people are my family, more my family than you have ever been. do not worry sister i would not concern you with anything beneath what befits you. we need only talk if it concerns the crown.please, do not pretend to care for me as family again, ypur idifference hurts but false concern is a pain i cannot manage" rhaenyra opened her mouth to speak but could not find the words.

"goodbye, dear sister. i look forward to hearing your petition." and with those words she left, fighting the urge to turn back and look at the face of the one who hurt her the most every step of the way.

jacaerys stepped off the carrige and into the ground of the red keep with a goal, to see his aunt again. he had grown into a capable and gracious young man in their time apart. she haunted his thoughts and steps toward adulthood in a way he could not describe. it was not love, he atleast did not think so, more like a strange hunger to see her again.

it scared him to think about. why was this longing so deeply rooted in his chest ?

with lucerys by his side they stepped forward into the familiar courtyard. immediently he gazed upon that same window he knew he may catch a glipse of her in. yet no one was there. it was silly to think someone would. why was his mind like this ?

lucerys must have noticed his wandering glances, nudging his side. "what ?" replied jacaerys. "are you ill brother ?". he had never spoken a word to anyone, not about that day in driftmark, the events of that night far too heavy to bring up,certainly not of his confusing feelings for the princess.

"im fine lucerys, are you feeling well ? it is a difficult day we have ahead of us, for you most of all" "im fine."

he was not fine, but it was best not to press on. lucerys had to deal with his emotions on his own,as did he.

the throne room had not changed since last he visited. he and his family stood on one side while the other slowly filled with hightowers and green supporters.

suddently, there she was.

the princess targaryen. her blueish green gown only exagerated her beautyful fratures, long silver hair shining, adorned by intricate braids and golden jewlery. she looked like she hung the sun in the sky. his eyes were trained on her form, not moving an inch, commiting every detail to memory, afraid shed disapear again and take the light with her. and then, against all odds, she returned his gaze.

it was like seeing the deep blue waves of the ocean again after years in the desert. jacerys vlaryon, in all his glory. looking back at her. she dared not tear her eyes away from his familiar brown ones. they stood there, surrounded by people yet alone locked in time.

eventually, otto hightower announced the start of the pettitions, and jacerys had to tear his gaze away. it was not a bad thing though, it allowed the princess to study his features more closely. despite his dark brown locks and eyes there was something uniquely targaryen about the boy, fair skin and aqualine valyrian nose betraying his heritage. he looked like the carbon of his mother. it scared her, it scared her because his resemblance did not deter her emotions at all, if anything it made her heart soften toward her sister. no man should hold such power over her.

the petitions went on and on but she heard few words far and in between,eyes focused on her nephew. periodicaly he returned her gaze studying her with equal intensity, alternating between commiting her to memory and comforting his brother.

for the fist time in her life she allowed herself to think of him in detail. she imagined how he would look speaking to her, hearing his voice, changed by the years, matured, deep, rich, manly. she though of his and when she tired she thought of them together. strolling through the gardens, flying on their dragons, sitting together... waking up next to him, walking the altar toward him.

and for the fist time it hit her.

all these years and yet her father had not changed his mind about the succesion once. not once did his resolve to put rhaenyra on the throne falter. aegon would never be king, helaena never queen, so long as the current kings will persevered. but it did not have to signal the end of her queenly ambition. jacaerys was rhaenyras firstborn, her first son and therefore heir. as far as the princess knew, he was unmarried and yet to be betrothed to anyone.

the window of opportunity so violently closed by otto on their was to driftmark suddently was wide open again. she could marry jacaerys and finally be queen, finally get what she wanted. ofcourse it would mean she would have to support her sister. every end had its means. so be it.

making up with her sister would be difficult, yet something about their conversation earlier told her it might not be impossible. the answer to her ambitions was infront of her all these years, jacaerys was the key.

euphoria filled her limbs making her mind hazy. floating on a bed of feathers, gears already turning in her mind paving the path that would lead her to jacarys. but good things never last.

princess rhaenys was speaking her peace when suddently

"the princess rhaenyra has informed me of her intentions to wed her son jacaerys and lucerys, to my granddaughters baela and rhaena, a proposad to which i wholeheartedly agree."

what. what. jacaerys and ... baela. she looked upon the ceiling of the throne room as if seeking the heavens, vying for the attention of the seven, whty did fate punish her so ?. ofcourse, why would she get what she wanted ?

she looked toward baela, a look of confidence and satisfaction gracing her features, eyes trained on jacaerys. she dared not look at him, she wanted not to know how he felt of this arrangement.

did he know ? had he agreed to it beforehand ? she could have sworn those looks he gave her earlier meant something. but this was now more than just her feeling toward him. this was about her gtting what she wanted, getting her throne.

jacaerys and baela ? no, that would not do. she was no longer that wide eyed girl, easily dettered by words of her elders, easily manipulated into complying with others wishes. one betrothal was torn away from her, not again. she would wed jacaerys she decited then and there, using any means necessary.

jacaerys heard his grandmothers words the same as his aunt. he was somewhat aware of their plans to betroth him to baela, but hearing them, actually hearing them, spoken in the presance of the king, it was another thing entirely.

he briefly looked to baela. she seemed very content with the arrangemend. the same could not be said about him. his aunt had been the sole person to hold his affections thus far. as much affection as a stranger across the bay could, atleast.

why was he so dissapointed ? was he even dissapointed ? did he really think there was any merrit to his feelings for the princess ? they shared one conversation all those years ago. whereas he and baela had a solid relatioship, a friendship, one that could be built upon. hed thought about the betrothal in the past, he could find some semblances of feeling in his heart for his cousin.

yet everytime hed thought of baela, another crossed his mind.

no, that would not do. his aunt was beautifull, yes, maybe it was just that, her beauty that bewitched him, the air of mystery around her. it was pointless to assign any meaning to it, he descited. he was a prince of the realm. he would preform his duty to baela and to his mother as best he could. childish fancy would have to be put to sleep.

a targaryen event without atleast one murder is considered a dull afair. thankfully they had daemon to provide entertainment.

the king had once again shamelessly supported his firstborn. for a rotting corpse, he sure was determined. the death of vaemond velarion signaled the end of the pettitions. lucerys would inherit driftmark along with his cousin rhaena.

rhaenyra would inherit the throne and in turn jacarys along with baela. not if she had a say.

with the first lord to step foot outside of the throne room her plan was set into motion. the alegiance between the blacks and the velaryons was strong, but not unbreakable. her sister was an honorable woman, a good mother, but a less than conscious politician. logic and aliances would not sway her, love however would.

the princess knew rhaenyra would reside in her chambers untill the family dinner planned for that night. a little snooping, more like a little talk with her ladies maid, told her daemon would join his old friends in the gold cloaks for the afternoon. after their talk, the princess and her handmaiden were to each take their leave. "oh, alia, i requre your help with one more thing" the maid turned "anything for you m'lady"

"i need you to place a rumor.."

with no warning, no knock, the young princess stepped into her sisters chambers. to say rhaenyra was surprised was an understatement.

"sister, what- what brings you here ?" the younger stepped further into the room. "i understand our talk earlier was not to your liking" she began, looking to her sisters eyes graced by an unreadable excpression.

"well, you made your wishes clear, i thought you would not wish to see me unless it was necessary. it gladens me you here though, please, take a seat" ever so polite. the sisters sat across from eachother on the chambers table, for the first time together of their own volition.

"do not misunderstand me, i would not have come here unless it was of the utmost urgency. as it stands matters of the crown plague me" rhaenyra looked concerned, what matters could the crown possibly have than were not directly concerning her ?

rhaenyra remained quiet, waiting to for the younger to show her hand before she revealed hers. "i heard today the proposal you offered princess rhaenys, to be frank, it is foolish." rhaenyra was yet to understand the road her sister was going down on, she remained quiet.

"keeping aliances strong is of upmost importance if you wish to secure your claim, however quality cannot completely trump quantity..."

"what are you saying, sister ?" sister finally,without the dear, bold. yet the younger remained quiet, pouring herself a cup of the wine placed upon the table. she was bold but her plan bolder, it required taming of the nerves. the longer the silence stretched on the uneasier the elder became.

"what do you want ?' asked rhaenyra finally.

"i want what you want, what we all want" rhaenyra understood finally.

"you wish to sit the iron throne then ? is it the reason behind your questioning my alliances ?" she grew irritated of the youngers antics, tired of the years being used soely for her birthright, her confusion twisting now into anger.

"you would think so, but no" she took a big swig of her wine "i want a family, my family, united. you saw the lords today, you saw my grandsire. you may think fathers support is sufficient, but he will to be around for long. there will come a time, sooner than latter, when you will be without your biggest ally, and the house of the dragon will be torn apart once and for all"

rhaenyra shook her head "i am the rightfull heir, the lords of the realm know who they swore an oath to. i have no need of you false concern."

"attitides are as moveable as the tides, the lords will rally behind whomever they believe benefits them most, oaths be damned. our family will be in shambles, you must prevent that, we must prevent that" she moved now, a mix of wine and sudden confidence moving her legs from her initial seat to the one next to her sister.

"wed me to jacaerys" rhaenyras confusion returned. she poured herself a cup and downed it in one go. "and why would i do that ? your void threats ?" "i can support you and your efforts best. rhaenyra looked toward the fireplace, turning her body opposite of her sisters. "moonfyre is a formidable dragon, and my mother may yet be swayed if we work together"

"i tried once, to ally myself with the green counsil, they refused. besides , it will be an insult to the house velaryon, an insult to my daughter."

"i am not the green counsil, i am your sister." mirroring rhaenyras earlier movements in the godswood, she took her sisters hands into hers. only unlike earlier, her sister did not move. "i know you have cast me aside, since i first came into the world. yet as a girl i wished every night with every prayer for you to see me, finally see me." rhaenyras eyes as if possesed found her own. an understanding started to bloom.

"i have longed to be by both you and jacaerys from afar all these years, let us not be enemies, do justice by our targaryen name. if not for an aliance for all you feel toward me as you sister. i have thought of everything, you need only say yes."

rhanyra ture her gaze and hands away once again, pouring them both another cup of wine, hoping her eyes would not betray her inner conflict. the sisters took their respective cups, drinking in silence.

"i knew not of these.. feelings you describe and for that im sorry." rhaenyra dared speak up. "i cannot give you the yes you seek but if truly your plans are as solid as you describe them, i have no way of stopping you" not a victory but not a defeat. "thank you, dear sister"

rumors have a way of spreading in the red keep. a phenomenon unlike any other. you could take your carridge for a visit to the great sept a maiden and return a whore. what a sinnfull and dishonorable thing. but what a usefull one to those who know to utilise it.

the queen alicent was enjoying a quiet evening after the very eventfull petitions. helaena on her left, embroidering a spider on one of the childrens tunics, said children on the floor playing with their toys, and her, reading "seven histories of seven prayers" all was at peace.

alicent finished her book and made a moved to acqure another, the library was near, she could go and be back in less than a feather sweep. excusing herself from the company of her family, she moved to do just that. the halls of the keep were never to the queens liking, much prefering those of her home, alas she navigated them, low sound of chatter radiating off of each room. gossiping was a sin, one the queen refused to indulge in but the day had other plans.

passing through her eldest daughters chambers she caught wind of words that shocked her. cautiously she moved closer to the door, hoping her ears were playing tricks.

"i mean can you believe it ? what a sandal, our princess and rhaenyras son ? oh the insult" said one of her daughters ladysmaids "alia, i am yet to understand, how could our lady fraternise with that family, they have not seen them in years" replied another "im not saying now, maya, back then, at driftmark"

"i heard it was the reason for the princes fight, prince aemond attacked jacarys for dishonoring his sister, thats how he lost his eye" replied another.

"and what of todays betrothal ? the queen would never allow such dishonor befall her daughter" "thats the fun part maya, the queen knows none of it, as for the princess baela, she has recently received proposals from the north, house tully and house stark, however, princess rhaenyra forced her hand to prevent herself allying with the greens" replied the voice of alia.

"i believe none of it, how could you come upon such information ?"replied the unnamed voice again "the cook, told me he overheard an exchange between the young prince and his betrothed.."

the queen stepped back, her breathing laboured. they were way off mark for driftmark, that was certain. but what if there was truth behind their words ? it would not be unheard of. most rumors around the keep stemmed from some truth

still, the queen had faith in her daughter. aegon was a rake, sure, but he inherited all of the rebelion in the woumb, her daughter was as pure as freshly fallen snow. seeking lord larys council would be an option but the queen feared what he would ask for in return. no. she was no fool, she would seek for herself the truth.

the dinner was an idiotic idea. alas, the head that defies the king does not stay attatched to its body for long. the young princess sat at the head of the table along with aemond, already nursing her third cup of wine. it burned going down but not more than her mothers gaze did. she knew.

her mothers gaze threatened to melt her face off but it was not what hurt most. jacaerys and baela sat next to eachother, exchanging laughs and pleasantries. if the wine did not cause her to vomit, they would. just a little bit longer, a little more patience, she would get jacaerys and the throne and baela the door.

the night went on oddly calmly. until the speeches began.

king viserrys took the lead. "we have a cause of celebration it seems. jace and luke will be married to their cousins,baela and rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses"

if the princesses eyes rolled any further back into her head she would see her brain. she looked to jacaerys, his eyes on her, only to immedietly be torn away once she looked back.

the king continued with his heartfelt speech, somewhere among the words of uniting the house of the dragon, rhaenyra and her sister locked eyes, the understanding between them having bloomed into a garden. her fathers worlds were certainly the missing piece to convincing rhaenyra of the betrothal.

rhaenyra took her turn followed by alicent, heartfelt words betraying the affections the two still shared. jacaerys was next. despite him talking about aegon and aemond his eyes fell on her periodically, never too long though. as if looking at her too long would turn him to stone. his fear was evident, but was it brought about by alicents menacing stare, or .... his own emotions ?

it was better not to mangle matters of the heart with those of the crown, she had to remind herself, despite her chest thumping with every glance. helaena gave her speech, toasting the happy couple yet again. her words on marrige brought about a sense of uneasines to everyone. rhaena, bless her heart, made an attempt to mend the situation "it leaves you, cousin. have you any suitors ?".

rhaenyra tensed, alicent even more so but most of all jacaerys. his stiffness caused baelas concern, who nudged him lightly. her movement laboured no reaction from the prince, she turned instead to find the object of his gaze, none other than his aunt.

"n-no, not of yet im afraid..." she gave her best semblance of a calm reply. rhaenyra, feeling bad and still mindfull of their earlier conversations, took the liberty of replying "it is best not to worry about these things, you may yet find your affection in unlikely places"

alicent gave a blank stare, she moved her mouth to speak but was interrupted, by none other than daemon. "best not to wait though, my dear, a young lady may fall to her charms only for so long..." his words earned him hateful looks and one of firm diaproval from his wife. his eyes however, gleamed playfully, ever the provocatour. daemon knew.

she could not hold back her emotions if she wanted. opting to give a small, sad smile, for an answer would surely betray her tears. she looked to jacaerys. this time his eyes unapologeticaly on her, looking to her form with raw pitty. helaena took her hand and aemond gave her a small pat on the arm. alicents anger was on the brink of overflowing.

before the queens wrath could be unleashed upon demon, the king groaned in pain, immedietly he was escorted away by the guards. the family was left in shambles, once again. yet the evening was far from over. rhaenyra ordered for music to be played, more courses arriving at the table. the princess cared for none of it, the plan was working, yet daemons words stung all the same.

a hand appeared next to her, asking to dance. looking up to find the owner, she found none other than jacaerys velaryon. she stood up quickly, ignoring her mothers gaze, taking it into hers.

the unwanted child of house targaryen, she was unused to being shown attention, most of all the sole attention of her beloved. a familiar melody sounded in the backround, years of observing others on the dancefloor yet never joining left her entirely unprepared for the dance that was to come. jacaerys noticed her nerves.

"do you know the stepps ?" she shook her head no. the reaction brought a smile to his face, genuine and warm. "not to worry, it is not a difficult one, you only need a capable lead"

arriving finally to the dancefloor, the music picked up. jacaerys hands led her to stand infront of him. since he noticed her uneasined, his eyes had not left hers once.

he began the dance, jumping left and right, she soon joined his pace. it felt like ascending the skies on her dragon for the first time, each little jump leading her further and furhter away from the ground, away from the drama of her house and into the heavens.

his pace changed, stepping forth to take her hand into his. the toutch was electrifying, gentle yet firm, he brought their joined hands to eye level, gaze forever steady on her form, like the eternal rocks beneath the tumoltous sea, somewhat grounding her. they began to turn around eachother. slowly at first, he began to hasten his turns, having now to hold on tighter, keeping eachother in orbit.

jace took a step back moving their joint limbs above her head, intending to spin her around herself, his other hand gently on her waist, as to keep her steady. the wine was taking effect for before she could turn to face him again she stumbled, slightly falling forward, straight into his arms.

he did not let her fall however, the hand on her waist immedietly snaking around her fully, the one above her head going to hold the side of her face, preventing it from coliding with his. by the time she gained her balance, the position between them was highly innapropriate. the warmth of his hand on her cheeck made all skin receptors go haywire. his lips had slightly parted and she could feel his breath on her own, if she leaned a little forward she could even....

"THAT IS ENOUGH !" queen alicents booming voice sounded. their moment of tenderness so rudely interrupted, the princess pulled away from her nephew, he complied, taking a half-step back, his hand previously on her waist however moved to hold hers once again.

" do you take me for a fool ? sharing words of support and love to my family, while your son has corrupted my sweet daughter, laughing now in our faces, i will have it no longer !"

everyone was shocked, rhaenyra held onto her husband, who moved to stand up, aegon and aemond shared a look equal parts amusement and comradery, while rhaena and lucerys held hands. the only one to keep his composure was the queens father. ooto knew. baelas legs were bouncing up and down furiously. everyone was in dissaray.

"what are you implying your grace ?"sounded daemon full of rage and malice. "i am implying nothing i am up and stating it since your family is playing the fool. your son has corrupted my daughter tainted her virtue and has now come to flaunt his debauchery infront of everyone! " jacaerys remained quiet, his hand unmoving.

like fish to bait, the princess thought. she anticipated the queens reaction, what surprised her was how public it was. a new variable. no matter, she had come this far, no way in the seven hells would she quit now. her eyes searched for and found rhaenyras, her beautifull face painted one sentance, i hope you know what youre doing.

"daughter, please regain your composure." otto attempted to calm his queens nerves. one public outburst escaping the family was bad, two would be ruinous. rhaenyras eyes remained locked with her sisters, the two communicating simply from eye contact. the younger sent a pleading look. not wishing to anihilate the little pieces of reconciliation the dinner had acheived, the heir sprung into action.

"please, your grace, it has been an eventfull evening, let us not end the night in animosity. the hour is late, we ought to all retire and discuss this with the light of the new day." daemon went to express his rage his atempted outburst swiftly sqashed by rhaenyra holding his arm. lucerys and rhaena immedietly stood up, followed by helaena, exiting at once, not wishing to partake in the conflict.

alicent attempted to voice her dissagreement, rage and adrenaline pulsing in her veins, but could not, the hand of her sworn shield along with her fathers stern gaze bringing her to reality.

aemond stood, approaching the still-frozen couple. his imposing frame cornered that of jacaerys "carefull nephew, should i find any truth to these accusations, i will ensure you pay the price this time" and with that, he pulled his sister away. she turned to look to her beloved, for the final time time of the evening, their eyes locked, a silent promise to speak again.

the events of the night were all blurry in the young princes head. whithin less than a day he reunited with his aunt, was btrothed to baela, descited to put aside his feelings for his aunt, witnessed a beheading, had his feelings for his aunt reignited and was now accused of deflowering her.

after she was so rudely torn away from him, the prince was faced with the fury of his betrothed. baelas face twisted in a way he had only previously seen on daemon, it petrified him. "is it true ?" asked the girl. "what ? i dont-"

"it is a simple question jacaerys, are alicents words true ?" "ofcourse not ! i would never do such a thing" tension was rising with each exchange of words "what was this buisness today then ?" "the princess fell, what was i to do ? allow her to fall ?"

"she is the enemy jace, you cannot trust these people" the words coming out of baelas mouth filled him with rage never before experienced "the enemy ? are you being serious ? you know nothing about the princess-" "neither do you."

they were almost yelling, daemon started to advance toward them. afraid of his stepfather he attempted to deescelate the situation."i do apologise for any discomfort i have caused you, baela, but i will not stand to hear such nonsense."

baela scoffed "if you are unable to see past the intentions of those who only mean to use you, i hold in my heart not discomfort but pity for you, my prince. goodnight. " and with that, she exited. by this time deamon hat taken the place of his daughter "come, we have much to discuss" looking behind him one final time to see his mother and queen alicent speaking quietly, he followed his stepfather.

they walked the halls of the keep solemnly, daemons calm demeanor betrayed none of his emotions, it only irritated jacaerys more and more as time went on. each torturous step made his mind race, from the dance to the fight to the princess to her hands to his betrothed to daemon to his aunt again, her lips, her smile, her body against his... it all was far too overwhelming.

the salvation from his torture came with their arival at his chambers. "come" daemon instructed, oppening the door, he could only follow instructions with the reverance of a septon executing the gods will, afraid of arousing his uncles rage. "sit" he sat, his uncle soon occupying the chair next to him.

"so, did you do it ?"

if one more person asked him that question jace swore he would throw himself from the tallest window of the keep. "no, i would never" daemon chuckled. "tis alright boy, the flame of youth roars with unparalleled passion, in this family especially, i would not have blamed you if you had." jace swallowed, a weight lifted from his chest.

"alas what i believe matters not, only what the queen does and as it stands, she thinks you deflowered her most favourite daughter. how do you plan to answer these accusations ?"

"i.....i do not know. i would not go back on my promise to baela sir. i swear it" daemons hand reached his sons shoulder. "i know. worry not about baela. we must understand what possesed the greens to spread such a rumor, they are coming for your inheritance boy, the same as your mothers."

heavens give me strength, the young prince thought. "with all due respect, you know nothing of who spread such a rumor. the princess would never soil her reputation in such a way. "

"damn right she would not, the princess is far from cunning enough" jacaeys hands turned to fists "it is certainly the work of her grandsire" he had had enough. "you only see the events of today as an excuse to express your violence"

"such are the tactics of war. we can not be seen as weak at this time, jace. they mean to take yours and your mothers birthright, to start the war and tear our forces apart-"

"i see finally, you care not for me nor baela, only for supporting the efforts of a war yet to materialise, if it even is to materialise. you only seek glory for yourself- " "myself ?" daemon interrupted "all i do, i do in support of you and your mother"

"then allow us to counsil my mother before you jump straight to actions which might soil her name" daemon gave no answer. his wife was his weakness, jacaerys knew it very well. and though he was prone to brash violet actions, he did so in servitude of his family.

daemon stood up sudently, still not having said a word. the young prince knew he had not quelled his bloodlust but the seeds of doubt planted in his mind would keep him occupied long enough. and so daemon exited.

before jacaerys was allowed a moment of respite, not a few seconds after his fathers exit, the painting near his window opened from behind.

emerging from the shadows, none other than the princess. jacaerys was left speechless, the night kept becoming stranger and stranger. "what-the...what, h-how did you get here ?" he chocked out.

"i found a sort of map of the red keeps passageways when i was young. one of them leads from my chambers to these" replied the princess shyly. "have i disturbed you....i should leave, my apologies-"

"no !" exclaimed jacaerys. the day had taken a toll on him, daemon and baelas words giving him a lot to proces. one thing had not changed though, he still longed to see her.

turning around from her attempt to exit, the princesses face became illuminated by the candelight showcasing her hopefull expression. a beat of silence pased, neither one of them knowing how to approach the other. the princess stepped forward, fully entering the room.

he could now see her dress in detail, a pure white nightgown, flowing gently, encasing her form. she looked like an angel sent from the heavens.

"my mother is very protective of me, you must excuse her earlier actions, she only meant to do good. i-i came to apologise for what went down at dinner" by now she was standing but a step away from him. the prince remained frozen, afraid if he let his body move, he would no longer remain a gentleman.

his silence caused the princesses face to fall slightly a disapointed expression threatening to take over, the same one from earlier that night. he wished not to ever see her that way ever again "is that all you came here to do ?" he spoke up at last.

a small smile played at the side of her mouth "if i may excpress myself freely, my lord ?" the pang of excpectancy in his chest rattled his body "jace, and please do."

"jace" she began, the familiarity of the petname causing him to grow bolder. "i must say, though these rumours are heinous i- i was ashamed not of my soiled reputation, but for the fact they included you" the woman infront of him was a witch, jace descited, she was bewitching him with every word from her soft lips, and he was oh so willing to fall for her spell.

"truth be told i have not forgotten of the time we shared at driftmark, it may seem silly but since that day, i have longed to see you again."she continued "i know not of love ...or lust but these feelings lay in my chest for so long i fear they may drown me"

her eyes looked to his through her lashes, longing, excpecting. once again he was left without words. "jace ? you instructed me to speak freely, have i made you uncomfortable ?" her hand flew forward from her side, softly brushing his knuckles, sending chills to his body, threatening to take his hand into her own but hesitating.

"are, are you cross at me because of the rumors ?" the last bits of his composure were starting to crumble, egged on by both her words and feathelike toutches.

"i could never. i would never hold over you something you have no control over" he replied, unable to take her teasing toutches any longer, taking his hand away in favour of toutching her elbow bringing her closer, so much closer, her other hand flew to toutch his chest.

mirroring his actions at the diner, he placed his hand upon her cheek. "oh, im so glad" she said in a breathless whisper.

"you had no play in spreading the rumors, yes ?" her mouth oppened and closed, eyes and body growing uneasy "y-yes, how could i do something like that ? to you of all people" jace sucked in a hurried breath, cursing himself for almost ruining the moment.

he brought her closer, hand moving once again from elbow to back, possesive and supportive. his thumb began to caress her cheek, seeking retribution for his previous words. "ofcourse, ofcourse, you spilled your heart to me and i have gone and accused you."

"no, i understand." their faces were now only centimeters away, heavy breaths in tandem with eachother "there are many forces at play intending to keep us apart" jace continued. the words of daemon now but a whisper in his head, caution having flown from the window the moment she toutched him.

"do you give them any thought ?"

"i could not if i wanted to. you say you have longed for me since driftmark, my longing dates even further back. this force is pulling me toward you like the morning pulls the sun from its hiding and i fear if you were to be taken from me now, i would never see the light again"

and with that the water tipped over, his lips clashed against her. all the emotions pent up over the years releasing in a dance of mouths and tongue. her hands flew to his his hair, trying to express all of the things words could not.

slowly the princes pushed her leg between his, casuing him to step back, slowly tracing a path toward the bed. when he felt the foot of the bed on the back of his knees, he did not hesitate, hands snaking to her thigh, he lifted her slightly and fell back, ever so carefull to not hurt her or to break the kiss.

her nightgown did little to hide her form, now slowly falling off her shoulder, exposing her chest. his mouth left hers for the first time, only to trace a path down her neck. her hands pushing his face further into her, hungry for more.

his hands on her thighs moved further and further up, skirts riding up with them. her core now bare on his trousers, right where he needed her most, soft skin brushing up against hard fabric, sending pleasured pulses to both her bodies.

she started moving her hips shyly back and forth, head falling back, the mewls escaping her lips music to his ears. by now the arousal in his pants was evident, the friction from her movements doing little to aleviate his tension.

desperation was fogging his mind, movements going from passinate to hungry. sloppy open-mouthed kisses on her neck moving lower and lower, a silent prayer of devotion on her breast, all he could think hear and feel was her.

lost in eachother and the new sensations, they hearn naught og the comotion outside the rooms door.

without warning rhaenyra acompanied by the queen entered the room. the lovers were caught, once and for all, now bound together by duty. alicent began her scolding, rhaenyra agreeing with her and joining. jacaerys took no time in taking a protective stance, shielding the princesses face in his shoulder, raising her nightgown back on her shoulder, trying to maintain whatever semblance of was left to her name.

the princess awoke, in her own chambers sadly, the events of last night still ringing in her head. she could still feel the heat of jaces body on her face, waist and lower... she knew she ought to be ashamed, to order a carridge to the sept straight away and beg on her knees for forgiveness. yet she found no desire to do do.

satifaction filled her lungs with every breath. after alicent and rhaenyra had caught them, jace was dragged away by his mother, yet he accepted the consequences with a stiff lip and an air of pride. alicent still was clinging to her daughters innocence, refusing to accept the situation as anything but her poor daughter being manipulated.

when aemond heard of the news he attemptet to take some form of retribution, going as far as to propose a duel with jace in her honor. aegon had never looked so amused in his life, he only congradulated his twin saying "atleast you sampled the mount before you commited". her grandsire was, once again, the most composed figure of the evening, out of satisfaction of securing his blood on the throne, she thought. helaena had yet to learn of anything.

they had barely goten any sleep, counseling all night in search of an answer to the situation. only one was viable. after the green and black council debated, a clear course of action was set.

given the fact there was no chance of the princess being with child, they would release a statement announcing the betrothal of the crown prince jacaerys to the secondborn daughter of the king, reuniting the realm stated as the reason. the date of the wedding would be set in thee moons time, as not to arouse any suspicion. as for princess baela, negotiations for herbetrothal to lord cregan stark were already underway.

she walked to her vanity, lazily brushing her hair. the smile on the woman in the mirror looking back at her she had not seen in years. each movement of her wrist was excecuted with queenly grace. life had meaning once again.

she stayed there a while, pampering herself for she was a victor, when a certain tapestry on her wall came out of place.

in stepped none other than jacaerys velaryon. jace. her jace. her future husband.

"jace" she said, standing up. "you look... satisfied" began the prince, all shyness from the night before gone. "should i not be ?" teased she. jace remained silent, somewhat sullen, looking to her form, the morning light revealing to him just how transparent her nightgown was.

"i spoke with my mother last night, she revealed to me some new information" the princess tensed, afraid she was caught in her lies, afraid all of her effort was for naught. his composure as he advanced toward her did nothing to sooth her nerves. he began to circle her form, patiently awaiting an answer. "wh-what would that be, my prince ?"

he stopped behind her. was it the formality of the title that caused his pause ? or was it anger ? "she said, you wenr to her yesterday to plead your case for our betrothal. she said you almost begged, to be perscise"

he had not corrected her calling him her prince, leading her to the natural conclusion he was angry. "i-i apologise for not making you aware of such a fact last night. i hadnt the time to you see..." she craned her face back to look at him. begging with her eyes for some sort of reaction.

he looked down to her, something dark behind his brown eyes. "how do you explain such an action ?" he said, voice low and grainy.

there was little room of escape. she had to play her hand just right. "as i said, i hadnt the time to fully explain myself to you. it is true, i looked to rhaenyra to ask for your hand and.... the rumors were really not the reason but the excuse for my actions. i meant to... approach you, from before" he remained silent.

she made an attemt to turn around and face him, only to be prevented by his pressing himself to her back. "baela is of the oppinion wish to use me. both her and daemon said you mean to steal my mothers throne, to take from me what you want only to betray me. tell me it is not true." finally his true colors came to light. the darkness in his eyes was not born of malice but of desperation, of fear.

"please, you most not misunderstand my actions, i only meant to be with you, i have not lied, i woud never. my family knew nothing of it. i understand how this must come across but please, believe me, you must." her joice unashamedly betrayed her desperation to please him, he remained silent still only holding onto her tighter.

"what must i do to make you believe me ? i will beg on my knees if it please you just trust me..." his body relaxed just slightly, hands remaining on her stomach, clinging to her dress. he gave a long exhale.

"i believe you" it was her turn to sigh, runing her hands on his arms tracing lines over his toned forearms. "i believe, you are a cunning spider, who pounced on the opportunity to claim me for yourself." his hand ascended her stomach reaching the space just under her chest, playing with the ribbon tying adorning her gown. "i also believe your intelect to be so infatuating i cannot help but want you more..."

he pulled the end of the ribbon, her dres becoming looser. "tell the truth, did you stop to consider the possible consequences of your reckless actions once ?" his hand went higher, unbuttoning the top of her dress, torturously slow.

"i only thought of you, every step of the way." he continued his pursuit of unbuttoning her gown. "does this mean you accept my apology ?"

"yes my darling, you need beg no longer... besides, i would much prefer to see you on your knees for other purposes" with that, he spun her around, putting their lips together once again. only this time the kiss was less passionate and more possesive. they knew they were bound together forever.

her gown was barely hanging onto her body, jace shruged the sleeves off her shoulders, the gown pooling on her feet. he took a step back, breaking the kiss to look at her. look at her whole. he drank in the sight of her body like the sweetest of wines. "perfect" he muttered under his breath, but before the princess had a chance to reply, he took her into his arms, mouths clashing once again.

effortlessly he carried her to the bed, gently placing her head on the pillows, climbing on soon after. her hands reached to toutch his chest, tugging on his tunic, begging to have it removed. he complied, hastily unbuttoning it. the morning light illuminated his porcelain skin, showcasing his toned arms and chest.

his mouth descended upon her, continuing his previous actions. one leg on her side, the other nudged her legs apart, knee pressing onto her core. she moaned upon the contact earning a chuckle from jace. "you, are magnificent" he said innetween kisses. "my cunning girl"

the fabric on his knee got wetter by the second, dampness reaching the skin underneath. his hand traced a path from her side down to her navel, to her pelvis, finally to where she needed him most. he began his ministrations on her pearl, tracing slow circles, each one sending waves of ecstasy along her body, they reached her throat leading her to release a pleasured moan. "please keep quiet darling, i would hate to be interrupted yet again"

his fingers on her core went lower, seperating her slit, pressing onto her. "wh-what-" she whispered, trying desperately to hold back her moans "shhh, worry not my dear, i only mean to please"

"all i do, i do to please you, my love" with that his fingers penetrated her. sensing her incoming moan, jaces hand flew to her mouth, muffling her sounds, only for him to hear. his fingers began to move, setting a slow rythm, allowing her to get used to the foreign sensation.

it was as if he had studied her body for years, the reverance with which he treated her left a burning sensation in both her heart and core. he continued, slowly picking up his pace, settling into a new rythm, his thumb took to restarting the ministrations on her pearl. she felt a knot forming in her stomach, tesion on her chest becoming more and more and more...untill she felt she could go on no longer.

"j-jace..." she chocked out, "i know, i know darling..." he placed a tender kiss upon her forhead, "let go, its ok..." with that, the tension in her stomach exploded, pleasure enveloping her body, settling into her limbs. "thats my girl.."

how long she spent lost in the throws of ecstasy, she knew not, a fog of pleasure clouding her mind, leaving her to think only of jace. once she started to come out of it a bit, he slowly removed his fingers, earning him a whine at the loss of contact. he only chuckled.

she went to remove her lovers trousers but he prevented her movements, taking her hands and giving each of them a kiss instead.

"allow us to keep something to look forward to on the wedding night." he said, positioning himself next to her on the bed, placing her head to his chest, playing with her long silver hair. they stayed like that a while, simply enjoying the company of one another.

the princess spoke up, "what is on you your mind, my prince ?" he made an insulted face, placing a hand of his heart " do not call me that again, lest you want me to be cross with you." she chuckled, her happiness causing his heart to swell with pride, he was the reason behind her laugh "i am simply admiring my future wife"

she raised her torso to kiss him again, all soppy and sweet. "i do have one last question to ask." she fully raised her body, legs across his lap and head neeling on his shoulder. "please do, future husband"

"last i spoke with daemon, he was ready to go to war in the name of preventing our betrothal. yet this morning, he was all smiles and agreement, i know it was not the efforts of my mother alone. what did you do ?"

"i fear if i answer that, you may turn to cast me aside" she said, begining to leave little kisses and kitten licks onto his neck. he took her jaw into his hand, seperating it from his neck, moving her to look into his eyes "we are in this together now, fully, my love. i wish to know of my wifes nature for i know i will come to love it, i already have."

"well, if you insist... my ladys maid worked under the lord stark, her father is a steward, tasked with writting many of his lords official letters. she learned to writte in her fathers handwritting and well... a certain letter arrived, late last night, detailing the request of the lady baelas hand for his son cregan"

jacaerys gave a hearty laugh " and it really took affect ?"

"ofcourse it did. the lord of winterfell will not question the crowns words, they know better than to refuse an alliance with our house. by the time the source of the betrothal comes into question, we will be on our honeymoon and alia settled with her own lover in braavos"

she looked to his eyes attempting to find any disgust, anything that would show her she was unwanted by him aswell, yet jace only looked to her with love and admiration. "you truly are a marvel, my spider" he kissed her forhead one again, then her brow, her nose, finally her lips.

"i hate to be taken away from you, however...." he began, tearing his body from hers, seeking his discarded tunic. "we have a scheduled, promenade soon. your mother is taking all the steps necessary in making us look like a prim and proper couple" he began puting his tunic back on, the sight of his back muscles flexing giving the princess another rush of arousal.

she chuckled and changed her possition on the bed, stretching her body, intending to entice her lover back into joining her. he turned around to face her once last time, the heavenly sight of her bare body making him question just how important appearances actually were. "do not play games with me girl, i should hate to disapoint the queen again"

"i said nothing..."she teased. "you neednt say anything. one day you will be queen and you may torture our children in such a way, or any way you see fit" he added. she smiled so wide it illuminated every corner of the room. "whatever you say, my king" he looked back once again, on his attempt to exit.

"treasonous girl. goodbye, my queen"

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